#even a 1% chance of saving someone's life is worth it

[gynandromorph]

modern CPR is around 60 years old. that's just wild to me. related but tangential: also wild to watch people resuscitate animals, solely with chest compressions

[exocaliii]

❦︎ And You Look Half Dead Half The Time (nsfw)

(pt. 1) (pt. 2)

| Kang No-eul / Guard 011 x fem!reader |

side! | Se-mi / Played 380 x fem!reader |

Summary: For six years, you've watched your best friend and only companion mourn a child she barely got to know. Now, you're given a chance that might finally rid her of this lifelong guilt.

Word Count: 6.2k

Warnings: death, violence, angst, hurt/comfort, smut, making-out, fingering + cunnilingus (r! receiving), bathroom sex, one use of Y/N even though I tried my best to avoid it lol, extreme jealousy/possessiveness, no-eul is not playing about her girl in this one LOL

A/N: finally reached the romance stuff in this one but there's still some build-up of course, hope you all enjoy and as always, i appreciate any type of feedback or comments, they make the writing worth it!! :D this is so self indulgent omg

—

When the platform begins to spin, you feel a firm grip on your hand, looking up to find Se-mi already staring at you with a calm expression on her face.

“Stick with me.” 

You nod, and before you’re able to check on Min-su, you’re nearly thrown off your feet by the sudden stop of the surface you’re on. 

“10 players.” 

The boom of the announcer clears your senses, and as Thanos and Nam-gyu laugh and spin, you see another group of five waving their hands for more people. You shout at the loudest volume you’ve used since arriving here for them to come over, and with a tight grip on Se-mi’s hand, you drag her to the open room right across the arena. Thanos, Nam-gyu, and Min-su (who you can now see was hiding behind Se-mi) follow right along, and, thank goodness, the other team of 5 do the same. 

“Are you okay?” You don’t respond to Se-mi's question because the answer should be obvious with the way you’re trembling, but she only nods in understanding. “Just stay calm, it’ll be fine.” You want to believe her, you truly do, but you see Min-su’s fear, and in that moment, you accept that this may be the game that kills you. 

The lock clicks open.

Your group of ten steps out, stepping over the blood of those who lost the last round.

You want to retch, but you stay focused and get back on the platform. 

With your hand in Se-mi’s, you block out the happy singing of Thanos and Nam-gyu, opting instead to pat Min-su’s back when you see him basically shaking like a leaf. He jumps, but turns to you with a grateful look in his eye. You pray that he lives, because someone like him should not die in a cold place like this.

“4 players.”

Your heart drops. Thanos glances back and forth between the three of you as Nam-gyu stands at his side. Your heart feels heavy in your chest, and your legs are stiff, ready to run. His eyes stop on Min-su, and you know what’s about to happen.

“You-”

“I’ll go.” 

Se-mi barely has a chance to react before you rip your hand from hers and run to find another group. Somewhere in the bustle of the crowd, you swear you hear her call your name, but you’re too locked onto three men in the distance. They’re already in the room, but they’re calling for a fourth person. Fear threatens to strangle you as you run over, the countdown playing loud in the overhead speaker. Their eyes are desperate, arms open to beckon you over to save both your life and theirs.

 

At the last second, you basically ram into one of the men as you barrel into the room, one of them slamming it shut behind you not even a second before the lock clicks. No one speaks as shots ring out from outside the room, and you begin to come to terms with your act of sacrifice for someone you had just met yesterday. 

Fuck, what were you thinking? Are you in this to win or not?

The lock clicks open, and you all step outside. There’s even more fresh blood on the ground, blood that you ignore as your eyes search the arena for your old group. 

“Y/N!”

You spin fast enough to snap your neck at the sound of her voice, and Se-mi runs over to you followed by the rest of the group. You think she’s about to hug you but she stops just short of it, arms lowering back to her side awkwardly before she resigns to grabbing you by the shoulders instead. For a second, you stare at each other in silence, neither knowing what to say.

“Oh shit, that was too cool girl.” Thano’s voice ruins the moment, but before you all begin heading back to the platform, you hear a soft voice from behind Se-mi.

“Thank you.” 

Min-su meekly looks at you with obvious guilt, and Se-mi drops her hands from your shoulders to take your hand as you all walk back towards the center. It’s comforting to have her hand in yours again (especially after you almost died letting go of it).

“It’s fine, I already saw the other group before leaving.” Obvious lie, but he didn’t need to know that. 

As you all begin to spin again, Se-mi gives your hand a short squeeze before looking down at you with a gentle smile that, as always, almost looks like a smirk.

“I was right about you.” You chuckle at this and turn away to hide your reddened face, but of course, the moment doesn’t last very long. 

“3 players.”

The three of you barely spare a glance at Thanos and Nam-gyu before you grab each other’s hands and run off, hearing the rapper scream a curse at your betrayal. You almost want to laugh, but you’re too focused on holding onto Se-mi and Min-su’s hands for dear life as you run towards one of the few open rooms still available. 

They’re filling up too quickly, and out of the corner of your eye, you see two other groups scrambling towards the one room you have your sights set on. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you come to the horrifying realization that groups of three might be too small to fit everyone that was still alive, even if they were all paired up. The thought makes your legs move that much faster, but just as you’re about to reach your safe haven, a body collides with yours and sends you flying towards the floor. 

10 seconds left.

“Min-su?!” He was on your left, but where is he?

7 seconds left.

“Get up, get inside the room!” Se-mi. You’re pretty sure it’s her rough hands that grab your sweater and pull you up.

5 seconds left.

“Where is he?! Min-su!” You stumble over your feet, your mind reeling as you’re bouncing back and forth between trying to find him and trying to follow Se-mi into the room.

3 seconds left.

“Wait! Wait, please help me!” He’s half on the ground, half fighting against a man trying to get up in front of him to enter a room to your right. You’re already in yours, and an arm wrapped tight around your waist prevents you from running out to save his life once again. 

1 second left.

“Let go! Min-su!” 

The buzzer sounds right as the door slams shut in your face.

The lock clicks shut.

Somewhere outside, you hear gunfire and the desperate cries of men and women who failed. 

For a second, you think you can hear him begging for his life, but then a single shot rings out and his fate is sealed.

—

Somewhere in the haze of emotions, you continue to grasp onto her arm like a lifeline. Your head rings, and you don’t even hear the announcer’s call for each of the next two rounds. It’s Se-mi who makes sure you’re right next to her the entire time, no matter which group you join or which room you scramble into. She doesn’t bother to ask if you’re okay (because it is extremely obvious this time, with tear tracks on your cheeks and shallow eyes staring into the distance), but her firm hold on you still shows her underlying care. That, and the slight shake of her body reminds you that despite her previous bravado and confidence, she’s still human just like you. 

When the game ends, you step over the blood of the losers to make it back to the main room (you wonder if you had stepped on Min-su’s as well - the thought of it makes you sick to your stomach). 

Thanos greets the two of you with excitement even after you left him and Nam-gyu in the dust, but you don’t even have it in you to entertain his antics now. Your head was pounding, and the only thing keeping you from curling up into a ball on the spot was Se-mi’s arm around your shoulders; she was holding onto you like you would curl up and die if she let go, which you might. 

When you both settle into her bed, you really begin to feel the weight of his absence. 

“I’m sorry for grabbing you like that,” she says, her voice quiet as if you were a deer about to sprint away. “...You wouldn’t have made it in time-”

“I know.” You’re curt, almost rude, and you feel bad immediately for your outburst. It wasn’t her fault, you reminded yourself. It wasn’t her fault that your first selfless moment in this hellhole means nothing now. “I… I’m sorry. You saved my life. Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that.” Her hand caresses yours, soothing you into finally allowing your tense body to relax.

Something about her gentle demeanor coaxes out a more peaceful side in you, and you lean your head on her shoulder. You’re pleasantly surprised at her lack of resistance, and something in your gut burns when she leans her head right back on yours. 

For a second, you think about No-eul and feel a strange amount of guilt creeping up on you, but Se-mi changes her grip on your hand slightly to interlace your fingers and it all goes away. You owe nothing to her. Companionship isn’t something she should bar you from looking for when you face death at her hands everyday now. 

What’s so wrong with finding your own comfort in the beautiful, kind, and unexpectedly soft woman sitting next to you? 

—

350 million won. 

It’s enough for those smugglers, enough for her, and so, it’s enough for you to change your vote. 

When red LEDs light up your face and you begin exchanging your blue patch for a red one, you feel the weight of the entire situation crashing down on you. 

You chose life this time. From now on, if you die, it won’t be of your own volition anymore. This fact disturbs you greatly, so you’re quick in pushing through the crowd to get right back to Se-mi’s side. You’re glad she chose to live too. If you made it out of here, you wouldn’t want to lose contact with her. Trauma bonds are pretty strong apparently. 

—

When two groups of men start walking out of the bathrooms covered in blood and money begins to fill the pig again, you shuffle a bit closer to Se-mi, and her grip on your hand tightens. 

Supposedly it was a brawl, and from the frantic head counts of both sides, the O’s had lost one extra man. The sight of a bloody Nam-gyu shuffling onto Thano’s bed, shaking from the drugs with a frantic, bloodthirsty look in his eyes made your stomach drop. Now, there was no idiotic rapper to take hold of his leash, and you were sure he would want to kill you two after you turned your backs on him twice. 

The cold steel of the fork you took from dinner provided a comforting weight inside your pocket. 

“Se-mi.” She turns towards you.

“Yeah?”

“Sleep on this side tonight, okay?” Your grip on her arm is tight and you know you must look completely shaken by now, but she still gives her signature confident smirk.

“Sure, but you better make it worth my while.”

Your face goes red and you scoff, making her chuckle. God, you’re glad you have someone like this by your side.

—

When the screams begin, you immediately dig into your pocket and pull out your makeshift weapon. You want to call out for her, but you’re terrified that if you make a single noise, you and her will be swarmed by the wolves tearing apart the people all around you. 

Where the fuck are the guards?! No, who are you kidding, of course they would sit by and let you kill each other. Probably the highlight of their night. Under the fear, you feel so much anger and pain at the situation that you can barely focus.  

No-eul’s face flashes in your mind once again but now, you’re beginning to struggle to differentiate her from the other murderers all around you. 

No, no, no. You can’t think that way. She’s not like any of them.

“You traitor bitch!” You turn your head down to look for the familiar voice, and to your utter horror, Nam-gyu is standing right below you. Across from him (and cornered against the wall) is Se-mi. Even with the strobing lights, you can see the intense fear under her angry expression. “I’m gonna fucking gut you!”

When he charges at her, you make one of the easiest choices of your entire life and roll off the side of the bunk. 

You nearly miss your landing, but your fork doesn’t and his scream of pain reveals that instantly. You take both him and yourself to the ground, but your heart is racing and you can still feel him bucking from beneath you, so you don’t get a chance to breathe before yanking the fork out of his shoulder and slamming it back down into the side of his neck. The feeling of it sinking it and spraying your hand with hot blood is sickening beyond belief, but you block out everything except the feeling of his squirming beneath you and raise the metal above your head again. 

You aren’t sure how many times you bring it down on him, but a body colliding into yours knocks you out of your spiral.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Se-mi’s voice barely comprehends in your ears, but you can feel her arms around you clearly. “He’s dead, it’s okay, we’re okay.” Her hand rubs your back soothingly, and only then do you realize there are tears pouring down your cheeks.

Your chest heaves as you openly sob, clinging to her like a lifeline and unintentionally smearing the back of her sweater with Nam-gyu’s blood. You shut out everything but her voice, and even when the guards enter and fire into the air, you don’t find yourself flinching once, simply dropping to the floor still in her arms.

—

When some of the players gun down all the guards in the room, you hide in the corner with Se-mi (who was still whispering comforting words into your ears). You watch as players 120 and 456 take center stage in the room, shutting down the last bits of the riot and forcing the one square-mask guard onto his knees. They call for others to join them, others with military experience or even those with the faintest idea of how to use a gun. 

Of course, you had military experience right alongside No-eul, but the ache in your body and the tight grip Se-mi has on you keeps you from getting up. Your head pounds and spins as your eyes begin trailing around the slaughterhouse of a room. 

Dead people in green, dead people in pink. Your eyes linger on the guards and their triangle-masks, immediately recalling the shape No-eul had on hers. 

What if…

No.

The moment the team of rebels leaves, you go to get up but a tight grip on your forearm drags you right back down. 

“Hey, hey, where are you going?” Her eyes are confused but her voice is just as gentle as it’s been the entire time she sat there combing her fingers through your hair and whispering about how brave you were and how thankful she was. “Talk to me please, what’s wrong?”

“I just need to check something, that’s all.” She doesn’t look satisfied, but Se-mi lets you get up after you give her a brisk hug and a strained smile. 

With a shaky breath, you begin to make your rounds. You can feel the eyes on you as you walk up the first guard and pull off their mask, letting out a quiet sigh of relief at the lack of familiarity in their dead eyes. 

With each one, you grow more and more tense, steeling yourself for the possibility of seeing No-eul’s empty, dead eyes staring back at you. 

It would be the thing that kills you. The loss of your reason to fight in the first place. 

Kneeling down next to the final guard, you can barely breathe as your fingers brush against the edge of their mask. Your hands are shaking so bad and you curse yourself for your sudden lack of strength. You would die if it was her. You would pull that fork out of Nam-gyu’s neck and jam it in your own if it was her. 

Shutting your eyes tightly, you tug it off and let it clatter to the side. Your breathing slows when you peek and immediately recognize the face as belonging to a younger man’s, not your No-eul. 

Please God, give me this one thing and let her live. Let us leave with my blood money and never come back.

—

You can’t even feel joy or disappointment when the rebellion inevitably ends in a whimper. 

456 is dragged in and from a quick glance around the room, you see that 001 and 390 are missing as well. 120 and 388 sit dejectedly not too far away from you, and you can’t help but feel for them; they were people, far stronger than you, that failed to be the heroes. You can’t judge them, you never even considered fighting alongside these brave people in the first place. 

Now that everything has calmed down again and lights-out happens like every other night and not the bloodbath that ensued earlier, you’re far more aware of the sticky feeling of blood on your skin. Your sweater even feels slightly heavier, the entire front of it stained with deep red fluid.

“I-I need to wash this off.” Se-mi, who was almost drifting off next to you, shoots awake and gets up right behind you.

“I’ll come with you.” It’s an unspoken fact that she definitely would, but you’re still happy at the confirmation. 

In the haze of everything that’s occurred, you completely forget that No-eul has been the only reason you’ve been able to get into the bathroom these days, and the only reason she lets you in is because you’re you. So, when you call out and the door opens as usual, you’re confused at her stiff posture. However, after a weird awkward silence, she steps aside to let both you and Se-mi in, almost slamming the door behind you two. 

—

No-eul’s eyes trail you two as you enter the bathroom together, and she can barely control herself from charging in there and kicking 380 out altogether; she had warned you about people like her, so what were you still doing clinging to her side like that? Moreover, seeing the blood practically covering your entire front was like a gut punch. 

She should’ve been there. She should’ve blown the heads off of whoever did that to you. She’s been careless, and she understands that now.

The worst she felt was during the Mingle game. Each time she had been sent in, her breath would hitch and she would hesitate for a few seconds at the entrance, eyes scanning the wide open area for any signs of you. Every single time she failed to spot the number 037 on the clothes of those she shot, a weight would be lifted off of her shoulders. 

After the final round, the room doors had opened just before she was able to leave through the soldier’s door. She takes the chance to search for your kind face, and instead is faced with the sight of you practically hanging off of 380, a lost, soulless look in your eyes. Pain for your sadness mixes with some other ugly emotion, and for a second, she lets herself imagine how your expression would change if she sent a bullet through 380’s heart. 

Would you cry out for that woman, or would you call No-eul’s name out of instinct, like a lost animal begging for comfort?

In the end, she simply leaves with her fellow soldiers, silently cursing herself for such a violent thought. 

—

As you scrub the blood off your face, neck, and hands, you do your best to not let your gaze drift back over to Se-mi. She finishes cleaning up long before you, and you can feel her eyes on you as you scrub away. But no matter how hard you seem to scratch at your hands, the faint red tint just won’t come out. Your breathing grows heavy, and you begin to rub at it harder with the soap. 

Your hands are still red.

The blood from his neck covers your hands, the sounds, the sounds-

“That’s good enough,” a soft voice sounds from beside you, gently taking your hands in hers as you shake.

“No, no, there’s still blood, I-, there’s still…” You turn your hands this way and that, examining them and the red tint you can’t seem to get rid of.

“It’s not blood, you’ve just been rubbing too hard…” She shushes you gently and her thumbs begin tracing circles on your raw palms. “I’m sorry you had to do that, I really am.”

You can only shake your head and press your face in the crook of her neck. It’s a familiar position, one you were in only last night but with a completely different woman. She’s just as soft as No-eul, but she doesn’t wrap her arms around your body and pull you close. Instead, her fingers find the zipper of your bloodied sweater and gently begin to pull it down. The motion makes you back away a little, and she lets your sweater fall to the ground after tugging it off you. 

It’s freeing without the weight of all that blood on you, and your heart swells when she takes off her own jacket to put it on you. This is the kind of care you rarely find yourself receiving, and whenever you did, it was usually by the hand of only one other person. You would have never expected the cocky, confident girl you met two days ago would become this important to you. 

You were right about her. Se-mi was the ever genuine, ever caring woman you hoped she was after your first real conversation together, and you wonder if the world finally decided to go easy on you for once by sending you a beacon of strength in the middle of this hellhole. 

“Thank you, Se-mi,” you breathe out, the feeling of her fingertips grazing the skin of your arms still present long after her hands have dropped back to her side.

She doesn’t respond. Her gaze is still heavy on you, but this time, you hold eye contact and let yourself drown in her eyes. For a split second, you’re sure you see them dart down to your lips, and you think she might just eat you alive with the way she’s examining you.

In an act that surprises even yourself, it’s you who leans forward and presses your lips against hers. Cliche fireworks don’t go off, but the second she reciprocates by grabbing the back of your neck to deepen the kiss, you feel the tension between you two finally reach a high point, and it’s euphoric.

You hold each other with pure, unadulterated desire as one of her hands travel down to your waist, pulling you in. The kiss deepens and somewhere in the back of your mind, you think of No-eul. She was right outside that door, what if you were caught?

What the hell are you thinking about right now?

“You’re beautiful, so perfect,” she whispers, and her words make your heart beat that much faster. “My brave girl.” Se-mi breaks the kiss to press her lips against your neck now instead, drawing a moan from deep in your throat. She’s still holding onto you like her life depends on it. 

Unfortunately, your mind is still whirling and you have to remind yourself once again that you owe No-eul absolutely nothing. She shouldn’t and wouldn’t be angry over you finding someone to love, who loved you in a place like this. Is it wrong to search for comfort when you’re so sure you might die tomorrow? Especially from someone like Se-mi, who has done nothing but protect you and care for you.

Your hands tangle in her hair as she slides a hand beneath your shirt-

“Player 380.”

You spin around as the door slams open, a gruff voice making you jump apart from Se-mi. You shouldn’t feel ashamed, but you do, especially when you can feel No-eul’s eyes trailing up and down your disheveled form, and you know she knows exactly what happened here.

“Get back to the room.” You look down to see her revolver gripped tightly in her hand, as if she’s fighting the urge to lift it.

“Just give us a couple more-”

“Now.” She practically growls out that last word, and you can hear a click in the silent bathroom as she loads her revolver at her side. 

Se-mi is brave, but she’s still smart enough to realize that she’s being threatened and would not win a fight against the taller woman with a loaded gun. WIth her head held high, she takes your hand and begins walking around the guard, but No-eul steps in her way and shakes her head.

“037 stays.” You all pause, and Se-mi grips your hand tighter.

“What? What the fuck are you on about? Just let us go back to the room-”

“She stays. Now get out before I make you.” No-eul takes a step forward, hand raising to point the barrel of the gun in Se-mi’s face. 

It’s difficult to hold herself back when she’s this close to doing what she wants with this random woman who’s begun impeaching on her world. The barrier holding you and No-eul together, apart from everyone else, has been disrupted, and she begins to wonder if you’ll actually hate her if she pulls the trigger now. She wants to, especially hearing you fucking moan for this woman.

Where else has she touched you? 

Her trigger finger twitches. 

“It’s okay, Se-mi,” you whisper, breaking your gaze from No-eul to look over at her. 

First name basis? You really want her to kill this woman.

“Just go, I’ll see you in a bit.”

Se-mi looks at you, confusion apparent in her features, but your face is perfectly calm and even though that disturbs her a little, she accepts it. She’ll trust you to stay alive with this psycho.

“Okay, just call out for me if you need anything.” No-eul scoffs at this, earning a glare from Se-mi before she walks out the bathroom. She spares you one final glance over her shoulder, and with a nod from you, she exits.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, huh?!” You’re practically burning with anger at her behavior, but No-eul ignores your outburst and walks over to the door, turning the latch to lock it before turning back around to look at you. “You think ‘cause you have that mask on you can just go around pointing your gun at everyone?!”

“And what the hell were you doing?” She pulls her mask off, throwing it to the floor before pulling down her face covering. Now, you can actually see the anger simmering beneath her eyes, an accusatory look on her face as she steps closer. “Were you planning on having sex with her or something? This stranger you just met?”

Your face begins to burn for a different reason now.

“That’s… that’s none of your business. I’m a grown woman, I can decide what I want to do or not do.” Your voice is far too unsure and she laughs sarcastically. Running a hand through her sweaty hair, she approaches to stand right in front of you. Your breathing slows as her eyes trail down your face, locking onto the number 380 right above your heart. Her lips curl into a frown and she grabs Se-mi’s sweater, looking like she wanted to burn a hole through the number on your chest. 

To her, it’s a reminder of her failure to protect you as she swore she always would, and now, in the wake of this failure, another person has come along and threatened to take her place - a place in your life she would kill anyone to keep. 

“Take this off,” she breathes out. The air is tense, and you almost want to deny her just to see what she would do, but fuck, she almost looks genuinely hurt and you can’t say no now. 

With your eyes still locked onto hers, you slowly pull the sweater off and let it drop to the ground at your feet. Her eyes are still pinned to your chest, but now you’re so close that you can feel her soft breathing on your face. You swallow harshly and press your face against her shoulder, bunching up her pink tracksuit in your hands as you pull her closer. The feeling of her so close again kills all the tension in your shoulders. This is the safest you’ve felt in 24 hours, and it’s in the arms of a woman who’s been killing people like you the entire time. 

You’re almost a bit ashamed, but what’s wrong with being a bit selfish for once?

You’re shaking in her arms when she pulls back slightly to cup your wet cheeks in her hands. You hadn’t even realized you had started crying again, but now, she’s looking down at your glassy eyes and swollen lips with so much intensity that you forget why you were crying in the first place. Her thumb swipes a tear off your cheek before she leans down, lips brushing against yours. 

“My beautiful girl.”

Finally, nine years after the day you met, she presses her lips against yours and claims you as hers. Faintly, you feel your back collide with the wall behind you as her tongue slips in your mouth. You’re holding onto her suit for dear life as she practically devours you, and you wonder how you were ever angry at this woman. It’s far more intense than the softness you experienced earlier with Se-mi, and you’re beginning to feel the effects of being pent up for so long. 

It’s not like you’ve never had sex with her before (to be fair, it’s only happened once), but this was far too emotional to be compared to the drunken haze you were both in when she fucked you over the seat of her van. There were no kisses shared then, no gentle caress of your face before she took you for herself. 

You’re dragged from your own thoughts when you feel a hand slide under your shirt and bra, gasping into her mouth as a cold hand cups your breast, roughly pinching your nipple between two fingers. You whimper right into her ear as her lips move down to your neck, sucking and biting as you openly pant. She’s practically surrounded you by now, but it’s not enough. 

With trembling hands, you grab the zipper of her pink suit and yank it down to reveal her slender body underneath. She practically tears the black turtleneck underneath the suit off as you stare. Your fingers scratch down her toned torso and you drink in the wonderful groan that leaves her mouth. As you’re preoccupied, she tugs on the hem of your sweatpants, pulling them down right along with your panties in one pull. 

Faintly, as her hands grip the plush of your thighs, you try to determine if you’ve ever felt such strong feelings of desire, of love, of anything with anybody. 

No, you’re sure you’ve felt this before. 

Your eyes shoot open as she calls your name. Somewhere in the haze, No-eul has dropped to her knees in front of you, and now, she’s looking at you like you hold the world in your hands.

“Do you still love me?” A pause, and her fingers press harder into your thigh, cold leather gloves long forgotten on the floor. “Can you still accept me?”

Every moment that you remember being so close to that overwhelming emotion, No-eul is right there next to you. 

“I’ve loved you since the day we met.”

A tear falls from her pained eyes, but you aren’t given the opportunity to wipe it away before she leans forward and presses her open mouth against your core. A gasp leaves your mouth and you immediately tangle your fingers in her short hair. It’s a bit too much to take in all at once - the woman you’ve loved for years is fucking you, and this time, you think she might actually love you back.

No, who are you kidding, you know she loves you. Maybe not as much as you love her, but she has to love you if she’s on her knees like this for you.

With the comfort of this knowledge, you lean your head back and lose yourself in the feeling of her tongue deep inside you, strong hands holding you still against the wall even if your legs feel like giving out. As your moans and pants fill the room, you beg internally that Se-mi isn’t waiting right outside the door to walk you back (or at least let the sound-proofing be decent). 

Unsurprisingly, after a couple years without any genuine intimacy with anyone (you couldn’t bear to let anyone fuck you after No-eul did), you reach your peak quickly. It doesn’t feel like some triumphant moment; your legs shake as the tight coil in your stomach unwinds and it’s satisfying to some extent, but you can’t stop the sudden rush of tears that follow. 

Why did your acceptance of your feelings for her have to come in a place like this - covered in the blood of someone you killed with your own two hands? 

Your legs finally give out in your grief, but she’s quick to catch you, leaning back to properly sit down on the floor as she carefully guides you onto her lap. For a moment, you just tuck your head in her neck and cry as a hand gently rubs your back. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” No-eul whispers, caught up in her own guilt for leading you down the same hateful path she accepted long ago. Why did you have to love her? Why did you have to follow her road towards self-destruction, the one she vowed to shield you from?

You want to tell her that she has nothing to be sorry about because you chose all of this on your own, but you can’t bring yourself to speak. You’re worried that if you open your mouth now, all you’ll do is start spouting nonsense about how much you love her and how much of your humanity you would forsake to protect her dream. 

Instead of further exposing yourself, you gently take the hand she’s kept on your waist and guide it down lower once again. To her credit, she understands right away and you’re given no time to prepare for the two long, slender fingers she pushes inside you. The sound of your sharp inhale right next to her ear must’ve been enough confirmation that you were okay, because she immediately starts moving them up and down inside you, rubbing gently against your still sensitive walls. 

Your hands wrap around her back and grip her shoulders as your hips begin to move in tandem with her hands, your heavy breathing a stark contrast against her soft one. The hand she had on your back is still there, soothing you until your tears turn from ones of sadness to ones of pleasure. 

As the high you’re chasing starts to get closer, you tear your nails down her back. Even though she’s still the same person as she was minutes ago, something feels different this time.

“Please don’t stop, please-”

“I won’t, I swear.” The hand on your back flies down to grip your hips to hold you steady as your movements grow more frantic. “I’ll never let you go, not for anything.”

You almost fall forward when she suddenly leans back, but you catch yourself on her shoulders once again. This time, she looks you square in the eyes as she pushes you over the edge, her gaze filled with an emotion you know too well.

“I love you,” she breathes out, and this is all you need to fall apart in her hands. “I’m in love with you, I can’t let you go, I won’t.”

In the afterglow of the moment, she wraps her arms around your waist and pulls you right up against her body.

“Even if you can’t love me anymore, I’ll continue holding onto you for the rest of my life.”

You smile at her words. You feel more content than you ever have before.

It wouldn’t be so bad to die in this place now.

—

A/N: my bad min-su fans and nam-guy fans, its for the plot y'all😭😭also if im being completely honest, I started writing writing this longass story just for smut with no-eul but it got so unexpectedly deep cuz I couldn't handle writing it with no build-up or emotional tension or ANYTHING

hope y'all enjoyed and LOL to the fellow FREAKS out there I hope the smut was alright cuz that was the most difficult part for me... LMK WHAT U THINK!! pt. 3 is coming in SEVEN MONTHS LMFAO😭😭😭SEASON 3 SAVE ME... SAVE ME SEASON 3

also if u request feel free to add details and stuff I might be able to build it into a longass story like this (but WOW this took too long) also I LOVE TO WRITE SAD SHT!!! SEND ME SAD SHT ILL LOVE IT!!

Taglist: @asvterias

[shewolfofvilnius]

I feel sorry for Orin

repurposed from an old Reddit post of mine

Edit: Wrote an epilogue fic where my Durge, Sofija, seeks redemption for her sister with the Gods

Raised from birth in the Bhaal cult and has never known ANYTHING else. Literally the result of incest between her mom and Sarevok (her father AND grandfather) - and for her entire life is actively manipulated and groomed to worship her "Grandfather" second only to Bhaal (leaving a disgusting implication that Sarevok might eventually try again). Literally every single day of her life spent in a murder cult, never knowing anything else.

Her mother is actively manipulated when Orin is seven to try to kill her daughter, only for Orin to reflexively kill her first, at which point Orin was briefly possessed by Bhaal himself (per some Sarevok dialogue). AT AGE SEVEN. And even from a young age, Orin's true gift is her artistry, a talent that outside the Bhaal cult probably could have been nurtured into something phenominal, but inside the cult is twisted into a sinisterness in the kill that, when she's out of earshot is decried as wasteful.

She eventually rises through the ranks (never have had any choice), having never felt a meaningful moment of compassion or kindness and, desperate to be cared about, sees the power and fear and respect her bloodkin (The Dark Urge) has gained and uses their hubris to take them out.

Ironically, in the timeline where Durge lives, they get a gift Orin couldn't even dream of - a 2nd chance. With their brain scrambled and the tadpole present but being interfered with, the Dark Urge got a chance to be someone new. (Whether they accept or reject that 2nd chance, they at least got a choice this time).

What did Orin get for her troubles? Her (grand)father openly coveted to either take her out, or worse, take her out - when the time was right, her own allies both detested her (Gortash openly revels at the idea of working with the Dark Urge again)

and most brutally, if you manage to confront her with the truth, any of it? About Sarevok, about her mother, etc? She immediately believes you. And for one (1) moment, maybe there's hope for her.

Hope that Bhaal immediately rips away; an Orin confronted with the truth and showing even the slightest hesitation is immediately forcibly transformed into the Slayer by Bhaal himself, with a strong implication that the core of the old Orin is gone forever win, lose, or draw. "No more doubts, no more fears, no more Orin. Become murder.". Seeing what Bhaal's reaction was the moment Orin had one (1) instant of hesitation also confirms that she'd likely have never had the chance to choose differently, either Bhaal would always step in or else she'd eventually meet her end.

Imagine the AU where Orin takes her CLEAR flair and artistic talent to become a truly great artist. Where she gets the same second chance that Durge got - If she'd been able to use her talent for impersonation and desire to great to do something powerful instead of being forced by her family from childhood into the family business of murder.

She literally never had a chance. Even Bane and Myrkul and their respective cults were never so unfathomably cruel, and she never knew anything else.

At least for my own first game, though, my Durge recognized that without her "sister," she'd have never gotten the chance to save the world, never met Shadowheart, never stopped a century worth of Ketheric's torture on Dame Aylin, never set in motion the liberation of the Githyanki...In the right world states, Orin unwittingly saved the world, but it's a world she'll never get to see or know, and probably never could have.

That's tragic as hell.

[luanna801]

Despite me joking about Lan Xichen not reading the room re: NMJ and JGY, I actually disagree with the idea that the Sworn Brotherhood was inherently a terrible idea and he should have known it would make things worse. I think it's a classic case where because we as the audience know how it turns out, that outcome seems like an inevitability and the characters end up being called dumb for not predicting it. But I think with the information Lan Xichen had at the time, it wasn't unreasonable for him to think this might work and was at least worth trying.

And I think in a different story, this is the kind of idea that could easily have worked and led to a heartwarming story about redemption and healed relationships. MDZS is just sadly not that story, at least for these characters, but as always fictional characters don't know what story they're living in and can't be expected to predict the future. All they can do is act based on the information available to them, and I would argue Lan Xichen didn't really have enough information to predict how this would turn out:

(1) At this point, the only time Nie Mingjue has tried to kill Jin Guangyao is when he mistakenly thought JGY had actually betrayed them and defected to the Wen side. Once the truth was cleared up, NMJ is still furious but backs down from trying to kill him. (JGY, meanwhile, has made no attempts to kill or even harm NMJ yet, and in fact actually saved his life.)

From Lan Xichen's perspective, he has every reason to think this incident was just an anomaly based on a very extreme situation where NMJ was acting on faulty information. He has no reason to think Nie Mingjue would try to kill Jin Guangyao again, or vice versa, so as far as he knows the worst case scenario for the sworn brotherhood is just... that it won't go great. That maybe they'll never really get along again, but they'll still collaborate politically for the sake of the Sworn Brotherhood, and there will be no real harm done that they tried. There isn't really a way he could have predicted things would escalate to them trying to kill each other.

(2) Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao used to not just tolerate each other but get along/work together EXCEPTIONALLY well, and Lan Xichen saw them during that time. He also knows they're both pretty closed-off people who canonically don't have a lot of friends and are hurt by the way things fell apart. It makes total sense for him to think they might be able to get back to how things used to be if they just got a chance to clear up misunderstandings and be reminded of the things they used to like about each other. And it makes sense that as someone who cares about them both he would want that for them.

(3) Lan Xichen sees both Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao as fundamentally good people. We can argue that he's mistaken in one or both of those evaluations, but based on what he knows, and indeed what they're respectively actually guilty of at that time, I don't think it's unreasonable for him to think so.

Most of JGY's worst actions are still in the future at this point. His only real crime (other than the things he did undercover, which LXC doesn't condemn) is killing the captain, which is an ambiguous enough situation that it makes sense for Lan Xichen to not consider it conclusive. Especially when weighed against what for LXC is far more substantial proof of JGY's goodness, like JGY having saved his own life when he was on the run, his time loyally and effectively serving NMJ, his incredibly brave and critical contributions to the war effort, etc.

Likewise, Nie Mingjue has yet to start acting as violent and unhinged as he later will on account of the saber spirit. While he's gotten angry, it was typically in rational ways that are largely proportional to the situation. He isn't doing anything comparable to the way he later flies off the handle at both Jin Guangyao and Nie Huaisang in largely irrational ways.

(We could argue that LXC should have known that he'd eventually end up there because of how saber cultivation works, but considering even Nie Huaisang apparently didn't know about it, I don't know that a member of another clan would have that kind of in-depth knowledge of the effects of Nie saber-wielding. LXC presumably knows the basic idea, but that doesn't necessarily mean he knows the specifics or how bad it can get.)

Therefore, from LXC's perspective these are two fundamentally kind, good people who all other things being equal should be able to work things out. And on the whole, he has far more evidence backing that up than contradicting it at this point in time.

[ankababy]

A Home (part 19)

Part 1 Part 18 Part 20

Chishiya x reader x Niragi

Aaaand everyone is immediately on you, we expected that.

(AN: Forgive me if I get any character/object/thing names wrong, watched the show in my language!! Also please give me thoughts and opinions on my Kuina characterization because I don’t think I got her right. Of course, everyone has a different opinion about her in mind but I’ll try to put something together from the opinion y’all have. I tried.)

The longer the wait, the sweeter the kiss—isn’t that what they say?

Niragi would’ve laughed at that if he could think straight. He never cared about sweet things. Sweetness never got him anywhere in life. It never fed him, never protected him, never stopped the fists from falling. Sweetness was a lie, a trap, a weakness.

But you… fuck.

You made him want to believe in things like sweetness. Things like softness. Things like… you.

The world tilted as you two kissed, narrowed, shrank to nothing but the heat of your mouth, the soft brush of your fingertips against his jaw, the quiet little breaths you let out against him. His hands slid around your waist, pulling you closer, needing you closer, until there was nothing between you but the frantic thrum of your heartbeats.

And he could’ve—no, should’ve—seen this as a chance to manipulate you. That’s what he used to be good at. Taking things, twisting them, bending people to his will. He knew how to spot a weak point, dig his fingers in, and rip someone apart.

But with you?

He didn’t want to break you. He didn’t want to twist you. He didn’t want to mold you into something easier to understand, easier to control.

He liked you just like this. Soft. Sweet. Unbelievably you.

His mind wasn’t on games or manipulation. It was all you.

You, with your stupid little bag full of oils and bandages. You, who had kissed him so softly it made his chest ache. You, who touched him like he wasn’t a monster. Like he was worth touching at all.

His heart raced, pounding so loud he swore you could hear it. His hands shook as they slid up your back, curling into your hair. His lips stung from kissing you so much, so hard, and he didn’t care. The boner between his legs throbbed, his body tight with want, but he shoved it down, buried it deep. He didn’t want to rush this. Didn’t want to ruin this.

He just wanted you.

His angel. His babydoll.

You made a soft sound against his lips, something sweet and breathless, and his whole body shuddered. Fuck. You were gonna kill him. You had no idea what you were doing to him—the way your fingers curled into his shirt, the way you pressed closer, soft and warm and perfect.

He wanted to devour you. To pull you into his lap, pin you beneath him, and never let you go. But instead, he kissed you softer. Slower. Savoring the taste of you, the feel of you, the quiet little sighs you made when his hands slid down your sides.

You pulled back just enough to breathe, your eyes fluttering open. You looked at him like he was something precious. Something worth saving.

Niragi felt like he was drowning.

You smiled softly, fingers brushing against his cheek, and he leaned into your touch like a man starved. He closed his eyes, breathing you in, his heart pounding so hard it hurt.

He was fucked. Completely, utterly fucked.

And for once… he didn’t care.

He could still feel your lips on his, even as you pulled back. It lingered—soft, sweet, something unreal. He wasn’t sure if he was breathing right anymore. Or maybe he wasn’t breathing at all. His mind was quiet for once, blank, save for the warmth of you pressed so close. It was almost unbearable.

You looked at him, eyes soft and sweet and heavy with something he couldn’t name. Your fingers danced along his jaw, so gentle he almost shivered, before sliding down to his arm. You traced lazy lines up and down his sleeve, the warmth of your touch seeping through the fabric and settling into his skin. Fuck. It felt like you were trying to soothe him. As if he were worth soothing.

He hated it. He needed more of it.

“You should sleep.” you whispered softly. Your voice was a quiet thing, like a secret meant only for him. “You’ve been awake for too long.”

Niragi scoffed, looking away. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not.” Your thumb brushed over the curve of his wrist, circling there, slow and steady. “I can feel it. You’re shaking.”

He tensed. “No, I’m not.”

“You are.” Your hand slid further up his arm, gliding over muscle and bone, soft and warm and fucking unbearable. “You’re tired.”

Niragi clenched his jaw, refusing to look at you. Tired. Yeah, no shit. His body had gotten used to running on fumes a long time ago. He didn’t need sleep. He didn’t need anyone. He was fine.

But then your other hand slid over his, fingers curling around his palm, holding him. Like you cared. Like he mattered.

“Niragi.” you whispered, soft and pleading. “Just close your eyes. Just for a little while.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, hating the way your voice made his chest ache. He wanted to snap at you, to tell you to fuck off and stop caring so much. But he couldn’t. Not with your hands on him. Not with you looking at him like that.

“Why do you care?” His voice came out rough, barely more than a whisper. “Why the fuck do you care what happens to me?”

You tilted your head, frowning softly. “Because I do.”

“Why?” His voice cracked. “I’m not—I’m not good.”

“I don’t care.” You squeezed his hand, gentle and warm. “You’re tired. You deserve to rest.”

Niragi let out a shaky breath, his head falling forward until his forehead rested against your shoulder. “You’re fucking insane.”

“Maybe.” You laughed softly, the sound vibrating through him, warm and sweet. “But I still want you to sleep.”

He stayed like that for a long moment, eyes closed, breathing you in. Your fingers kept moving up and down his arm, slow and steady, like you were trying to lull him into sleep.

And maybe, just maybe… he’d let you.

~

Chishiya found you two at dawn. The sky was just starting to bleed pink and gold, the streets still quiet and empty. He kept his steps light, silent, watching his breath curl in the chilly morning air as he rounded the corner back to where he’d left you. He didn’t expect much. Maybe you still sitting there, eyes fluttering from how tired you were. Maybe Niragi pacing like the restless animal he was.

But instead, it was you, curled up next to Niragi, head resting softly on his shoulder, fingers still laced with his. Niragi was slumped against the wall, body loose, mouth slightly parted as he slept. His head tilted towards yours, just barely, his face soft in a way Chishiya hadn’t seen before.

Pathetic.

Chishiya’s eyes narrowed as he took it in. Niragi—that violent, pathetic little boy—asleep. On you. Using you like some kind of comfort. As if he deserved that. As if he had earned that.

Chishiya crept closer, steps silent, and crouched a few feet away. His pretty eyes scanned Niragi, watching the slow rise and fall of his chest, the twitch of his fingers against yours. His gun sat at his hip, forgotten. His guard was completely down. Foolish. Pathetic.

Chishiya could kill him right now. He could slide his knife—the one he got from you—into Niragi’s throat before the bastard even knew what hit him. It would be easy. So easy.

But he didn’t.

His gaze shifted to you. Your face was soft, peaceful, your breath slow and even. The dawn light painted your skin gold, made you look almost unreal. Like some fragile little thing, too sweet for this place. Too soft.

Too good for Niragi.

Chishiya’s fingers curled into a fist. He should’ve been the one you leaned on. Not Niragi. Never Niragi. Chishiya clenched his jaw, watching the way your fingers curled softly around Niragi’s. It made something dark twist in his chest.

Pathetic.

But not just Niragi.

Chishiya exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. Somewhere along the way, you slipped under his skin, dug into his bones, and now he was stuck with you there. Clawing at him. Driving him fucking insane.

And Niragi? He was too blind to see what he had. Too dumb to realize that if he wasn’t careful, Chishiya would take it all away.

But not yet.

Chishiya stood slowly, watching the two of you for another long moment. Then he turned and walked a few steps away, leaning against the wall. He folded his arms over his chest and closed his eyes. He could wait.

After all, patience was one of his many talents.

~

You woke up slowly, the world soft and quiet around you. The first thing you felt was warmth—the kind of warmth that made you want to drift back into sleep. The pavement beneath you was cold, but the body beside you wasn’t. Niragi.

The memories came. His hand in yours. The lavender oil on his wrist. His voice, low and rough, spilling out every dark, twisted thing he’d ever done. The kiss.

Your cheeks warmed at the memory. His lips, surprisingly soft against yours. The weight of him next to you. The way his fingers had curled into your body, like he was holding on for dear life. God. What had you done?

You blinked slowly, eyes adjusting to the pale morning light. When you finally focused, the first thing you saw was Chishiya.

He stood a few feet away, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, eyes already on you. He looked almost bored, but there was something else there. Something quieter. He tilted his head slightly, and his voice broke the silence.

“How’s your knee?”

You blinked again, pushing yourself up slightly. Your knee twinged in protest, but it wasn’t bad. The dried blood made the skin tight, and the ache was dull, more annoying than painful. You glanced down at it, then back up at him.

“It’s fine.” you said softly, your voice raspy with sleep. “Thanks for asking.”

Chishiya hummed, his gaze flicking down to your knee, then back to your face. “You sleep well?”

You stretched a little, feeling your muscles protest. “I think so.” You glanced to your side, where Niragi was still slumped against the wall, his head tilted back. He looked almost peaceful, his face soft in sleep. “I guess I needed it.”

Chishiya scoffed quietly. “You’re not the only one.”

You turned back to him, watching the way his eyes lingered on Niragi. There was a sharpness to his gaze. You opened your mouth to say something, but before you could, Niragi shifted beside you. His breath hitched slightly, and then his eyes fluttered open. For a moment, he just blinked, squinting against the light. Then his gaze landed on you.

“The fuck you two talking about?” Niragi’s voice was rough, low with sleep. He shifted, sitting up straighter and rubbing at his eyes. His fingers twitched towards his gun out of habit, but he didn’t grab it.

You smiled softly. “Morning.”

Niragi grunted, running a hand through his hair. “Whatever.” He glanced at Chishiya, his eyes narrowing. “You watching us sleep, asshole? Kink of yours?”

Chishiya raised an eyebrow, completely unbothered. “Just making sure you didn’t drool on her.”

Niragi scowled, opening his mouth to snap something back, but you reached out and touched his arm gently. His gaze snapped to you instantly.

“Hey.” you said softly, squeezing his arm. “It’s okay.”

Niragi stared at you for a long moment. Then he scoffed, looking away. “Tch. Whatever.”

But he didn’t pull away.

Chishiya watched you rub the sleep from your eyes, soft and slow, your little fingers curling against your face. He almost didn’t hear Niragi’s growl of irritation because he was too focused on you—the way you blinked in the morning light, the way you sat there, so soft, so sweet.

“We’re almost there.” Chishiya said.

Your head snapped toward him, eyes wide and bright. “What?”

He shoved his hands into his pockets. “The Beach. Should only be about one and half an hour away. If we keep moving.”

For a second, you just sat there, processing. Then, the most beautiful, heart-stopping grin spread across your face, and you lit up. Bright and brilliant, like the sun rising. “Really?”

Chishiya only nodded, but you gasped like he’d just handed you the moon. You scrambled to your feet, ignoring the pain in your knee, and before either of them could react, you grabbed his sleeve.

“Let’s go!” You tugged on him, so soft, so sweet, and for once, Chishiya’s body moved before his brain could. He let you pull him along, his sleeve bunched up in your fingers, your excitement bubbling over as you babbled about how you couldn’t believe you were so close, how you couldn’t wait to finally get there, how you hoped the people weren’t too bad—

And Niragi was still on the ground.

Just sitting there.

The spot where your warmth had been was cold now. The memory of your body curled up next to his, of your lips on his, was all he had left. And you’d just… left him. Like he was nothing. Like last night didn’t mean a goddamn thing.

His jaw clenched so hard it hurt. What the fuck was that about? One second, you were kissing him like he was the only thing that mattered. Like you saw something in him worth holding onto. And now you were up and dragging that smug little bastard along like Niragi didn’t even exist.

His hands curled into fists, nails biting into his palms. He could still feel the ghost of your touch on his arm, soft and delicate. Like you cared.

But if you cared, why did you leave?

Niragi shot to his feet, ignoring the way his head spun from standing too fast. He shoved his hands in his pockets and walked after you, his eyes burning holes into the back of Chishiya’s head. That little fucker. Acting all cool and detached while you practically clung to him. Niragi wanted to rip him apart. Wanted to shove him into the pavement and make him remember whose side you slept on last night.

His mind was spinning, dark and violent and loud. He didn’t know what the fuck he felt anymore. All he knew was that he wanted you. Craved you. And the sight of you slipping through his fingers—after he’d finally had you, after you’d finally let him in—made him feel like he was going insane.

But you were just there, holding onto Chishiya. Smiling and chattering away, completely unaware of the war raging inside him.

Niragi grit his teeth, his footsteps heavy against the pavement. Fine. He’d follow. He’d always follow. But he wouldn’t forget this. Not for a second.

~

The three of you stood at the edge of it—the Beach. A hidden back entrance.(like the one where Chishiya was about to leave after collecting the cards but the game started) You couldn’t hear the music or the parties from here, only the wind curling through the trees and the sound of your own breath, a little faster than usual.

“Oh my god.” you whispered, gripping the strap of your bag. “We’re actually here.”

Niragi scoffed, lighting a cigarette. “No shit.”

You barely heard him, eyes wide as you took in the sight. After everything, after all that walking, after the games and the near-death experiences—this felt unreal. The Beach. You felt like you were about to meet some sort of mythical creature.

“Oh my god. Wait. Wait, wait, wait.” You turned to the boys, gripping Niragi’s arm before spinning to Chishiya, practically vibrating with nerves. “Do I look okay?”

Chishiya blinked at you. “What?”

“Do I look okay?!” You waved your hands over yourself, frantic. “I mean—this is, like, a thing, right? A community or whatever. I don’t want to look like I just dragged myself off the floor.” You looked down at yourself and winced. “Which, okay, I kinda did, but still.”

Chishiya just stared at you. Niragi blew out a long stream of smoke.

You ignored them both, running your hands through your hair, trying to fix it. “Ugh. I probably look awful. God, I haven’t even seen a mirror in days.” You turned to Niragi, tugging his sleeve. “Do I look awful?”

He pulled his arm away, glaring. “Why the fuck are you asking me?”

“Because you have eyes!” You whined, bouncing on your heels. “Oh my god, they’re totally gonna judge me. Should I button this up more?” You fiddled with the buttons on your dress. “Or—or less? Maybe I should show a little more collarbone. I feel like collarbones are very in right now. What do you guys think?”

Niragi looked about two seconds away from strangling you. Chishiya, on the other hand, just tilted his head, watching you quietly.

You huffed and turned to your bag, rifling through it. “Maybe I have something in here. Ugh, I should’ve grabbed more stuff from that beauty store. Fuck.”

Niragi groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Fucking kill me.”

“I’m serious!” You snapped, waving a hair tie in his face. “First impressions matter!”

Niragi swatted your hand away. “Who gives a shit?”

“I give a shit!” You stomped your foot. “I just—I don’t want them to think I’m… I don’t know. Weird.”

Niragi let out a dark laugh. “Too late for that.”

You glared at him. “You’re no help.” You turned to Chishiya, hopeful. “Chishiya?”

He blinked, the corners of his lips twitching slightly. “You look fine.”

You frowned. “Fine?”

“Perfect.” he corrected.

You paused, blinking. Heat crawled up your neck. “Oh.”

Niragi made a disgusted noise, flicking his cigarette away. “Can we go now?”

You chewed your lip, still fussing with your shirt. “Okay, okay. Just… wait.”

You ran your hands over your dress, trying to smooth out the wrinkles. It didn’t do much, but it made you feel a little better. Then you turned to the boys, taking a deep breath.

“Okay.” You nodded to yourself.

Niragi rolled his eyes. Chishiya shoved his hands in his pockets. And you followed them.

Music thumped through the air, heavy and relentless, the bass vibrating through the cracked tiles beneath your feet. Lights flickered across the pool, the water reflecting shades of neon pink and electric blue. Bodies twisted and swayed to the beat—half-naked, sunburnt, and wild-eyed, moving like the end of the world was just another reason to party.

And maybe it was.

You squeezed yourself closer to Niragi, fingers curling around the hem of his shirt. You’d been so excited just minutes ago, bouncing on your heels at the back. Now that you were inside, that excitement felt a little tighter in your chest. Like a rubber band stretched too thin.

Niragi jerked to a stop. His hand shot down, fingers curling around your wrist. You blinked, startled, but before you could ask what was wrong, he wrenched your hand off his shirt and held it in his own.

You stared at him. “Uh—”

“Don’t get lost.” he snapped, eyes darting around the crowd. His grip on your hand was a little too tight, rough fingers curling against your pulse. He looked like he was ready to tear someone’s throat out.

Chishiya glanced back at the two of you, before shoving his hands in his pockets and continuing ahead.

You blinked down at your joined hands, then back up at Niragi. His gaze was locked on the crowd, jaw tight. You bit your lip, trying not to smile. He didn’t let go.

The three of you moved through the mass of bodies, and you could feel the eyes on you. Not many—most were too drunk or high to notice much of anything—but some did. Whispers started, quiet but urgent. Heads turned.

“Is that…?”

“No fucking way.”

“Thought they were dead.”

You glanced at Niragi, squeezing his hand. His lip curled, eyes scanning the crowd.

The two of them were infamous, you realized. The kind of infamous that made people avert their gaze and pretend they hadn’t seen them. Well, Niragi definitely was. They seemed more focused on him than Chishiya.

And then there was you.

Soft. Small. Dressed in all pink.

You stuck out like a sore thumb. The little angel walking between two devils.

“Who the hell is that?”

“Dunno. Never seen her before.”

“Shit, you think she’s new?”

“She with them?”

You curled in a little closer to Niragi, the heat of the stares prickling at your skin. He didn’t let go of your hand. Chishiya walked ahead, seemingly unaffected.

A drunk girl stumbled into Niragi, laughing as she pressed against him. “Heyyy.”she slurred, eyes glazed. “You wanna dance?”

You felt her. Niragi was hot.

Niragi’s grip on your hand tightened, knuckles going white. He bared his teeth, shoving her off with a snarl. She hit the ground hard, staring up at him in shock as he stepped over her without a second glance.

You winced, glancing down at the girl. She scrambled to her feet, disappearing into the crowd.

“Niragi.” you whispered, tugging on his hand. “Was that necessary?”

He didn’t answer.

Chishiya led you through the crowd, weaving between bodies with the kind of ease that made him hard to track. You followed, holding tight to Niragi’s hand, the music pounding in your skull.

The halls of The Beach were more luxurious than you’d expected, though the air smelled faintly of chlorine and stale alcohol. The distant thud of music from the pool party barely reached you here, muffled behind thick walls and heavy doors. It felt… wrong. Too quiet. Too pristine.

You swung your arm with Niragi’s as you walked, fingers curled loosely around his. He didn’t pull away, but he sure as hell didn’t swing back. His arm was stiff at his side, shoulders tense, eyes darting around like he was expecting someone to jump out and slit his throat at any second.

“You’re so tense.” you said softly, leaning your head against his shoulder for a moment. “Relax. We made it.”

Niragi scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Yeah. Lucky us.”

You ignored the sarcasm, skipping a little as you swung your arms dramatically, trying to get him to loosen up. His hand twitched, fingers curling slightly around yours before he caught himself and ripped his arm out of yours. You pouted. He scowled. Chishiya sighed.

Now Niragi walked a little ahead of you, one hand shoved into his pocket, his rifle slung over his shoulder. Chishiya trailed behind, quiet as ever, eyes half-lidded, like he wasn’t paying attention. But you knew better. He noticed everything. He always did.

You reached the end of the hallway, where two guards stood on either side of a door. They tensed the moment they saw Niragi and Chishiya, eyes going wide. One of them took a step forward, mouth opening like he was about to say something—but Niragi just tilted his head, raising his brows.

The guard’s mouth snapped shut. He stepped aside without a word, and Niragi pushed the door open.

The room was big—bigger than you’d expected. A long conference table stretched across the center, surrounded by high-backed chairs. The walls were lined with massive windows.

Mhm. People.

Kuzuryu. Ann. Mira. Aguni. That weird bald guy I don’t know the name of. I just call him bald fuck. (But of course, you don’t know their names yet ;) ) And a handful of other people who looked just important enough to sit at the table but not important enough for you to remember later.

The conversation ground to a halt the moment you walked in. All eyes turned to the three of you.

You blinked, eyes wide, frozen for a moment under the weight of their stares. Then you smiled. Big and bright. You even waved, your fingers wiggling enthusiastically.

“Hi!”

A long silence stretched through the room. You swore you heard someone’s jaw crack as they clenched their teeth. Chishiya stuffed his hands into his pockets, his expression bored as he leaned against the wall. Niragi just stood there, silent, head tilted slightly to the side.

“Well, well.”

The voice broke the silence, smooth. Hatter.

He pushed back from the table, standing slowly, a grin spreading across his face as he looked the three of you over. He looked… pleased. Like you’d just walked in and handed him a winning lottery ticket. “And here I thought we’d lost you.”

Niragi sneered. “Wishful thinking.”

Hatter laughed, the sound loud and bright, cutting through the tension. “I always knew you were too stubborn to die.” His gaze slid to Chishiya, eyes narrowing slightly. “And you… I should’ve known you’d find your way back.”

Chishiya said nothing. Just tilted his head slightly.

Hatter’s eyes finally landed on you. His brows lifted, a slow smile curling across his lips. “And who might this be?”

You straightened, beaming. “I’m Y/N!”

His smile widened. “Y/N.” He said it like he was tasting the name, rolling it around on his tongue. “A pleasure.”

You bounced a little on the balls of your feet, still smiling. No one else spoke. The silence stretched again, heavier this time. Ann watched you, fingers tapping rhythmically against the table. Even that fuckass Aguni bothered to move his eyes at you.

No one else said a word. No one else smiled.

Except for Hatter.

“Well.” he finally said, clapping his hands together. “It seems we have much to discuss.”

You weren’t sure what that meant. But you smiled anyway.

His dark eyes lingered on you from behind his sunglasses, curious, intrigued. There was something about him that made you feel oddly… safe. Or maybe it was the way he treated Niragi and Chishiya. Like they were his boys. Like they mattered.

“Well, Y/N.” Hatter said, stepping closer, his voice smooth as silk. “It seems I’ve been terribly rude. Let me introduce everyone.”

He gestured to the others at the table. “That’s Kuzuryu.” The man inclined his head slightly, eyes… strict behind his glasses. “Ann.” She didn’t move, her gaze flicking over you briefly before returning to Niragi and Chishiya, like she was trying to piece together what the hell was going on. “Aguni.” The stone-faced man barely spared you a glance, arms crossed tightly over his chest. “Last Boss. And of course, Mira.”

Mira smiled, soft and sweet. It didn’t reach her eyes.

“And the rest…” Hatter waved a hand dismissively. “Well, they don’t matter.”

You giggled softly, biting your lip. He was charming, in a way that felt both natural and rehearsed. Like he knew exactly what he was doing. But you liked it.

“And you.” Hatter stepped closer, taking your hand in his. His touch was warm, gentle. He raised your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against your knuckles. “Are a delight.”

You flushed, eyes wide. “Oh. Um. Thank you.”

Behind you, Niragi scoffed. Chishiya rolled his eyes.

“Now.” Hatter clapped his hands, the sound echoing through the room. “Why don’t we all take a seat?”

You hesitated, glancing at Niragi. He caught your eye and tilted his head towards the chair in front of him. His chair. You blinked up at him, confused.

“Sit.” His voice was low, a little rough.

You hesitated. “But—”

“Sit.”

So you did. The chair was big, almost swallowing you whole, the leather cool against your bare skin. Niragi stayed behind you, arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the back of the chair. His fingers brushed against your shoulder, almost absentmindedly.

Chishiya took the chair in front of you, leaning back lazily, arms draped over the armrests. He looked like he couldn’t care less.

Hatter settled into his own chair, folding his hands in front of him. “Now.” he said, eyes glinting. “Why don’t you boys tell me what happened?”

Neither of them spoke. The silence stretched, heavy and uncomfortable. You shifted in your seat, glancing between them.

You sighed softly. “I found them.”

Hatter raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”

You nodded. “After a game. They were… pretty beat up.” You glanced up at Niragi, but he wouldn’t look at you. “I took them in. Helped them heal.” You hesitated. “And… they stayed.”

Hatter’s gaze shifted between the two boys. “How sweet.”

Neither of them said a word. Niragi’s fingers tapped against the back of the chair, slow. Chishiya didn’t move.

Hatter leaned forward, resting his chin on his hands. “And what exactly happened in that game?”

Again, silence. You bit your lip, glancing at Niragi. He tensed, his jaw tightening.

Finally, Chishiya spoke. “Does it matter?”

Hatter chuckled. “No, I suppose not.” His eyes slid back to you. “But I must say… I’m impressed.”

You blinked. “What?”

He smiled. “It’s not every day someone manages to tame these two.”

You flushed. “I… I didn’t tame anyone.”

“Oh, I think you did.” Hatter’s gaze flicked to Niragi and Chishiya, his smile sharp. “And I must say… I approve.”

Niragi scoffed, Chishiya just sighed.

Hatter laughed softly. “Oh, don’t be shy. You’ve clearly grown close.” His eyes glittered with amusement. “Very close.”

You shifted, glancing at Niragi. He stared out the window. Chishiya’s expression was carefully blank, his gaze fixed on the table.

The air wasn’t tense—no, it was worse than that. It was thick. Sticky, like honey, slow and dragging. It wrapped around Niragi’s throat and made it hard to breathe. Or maybe that was just you.

You looked so fucking small in that chair. Proper. Polite. Hands folded neatly in your lap, ankles tucked under the seat. Every time you shifted, the soft rustle of your clothes filled the silence. You were all pink, somehow untouched by the filth around you.

The way you made him feel was actually insane.

“Y/N.”

Your head snapped up at the sound of Hatter’s voice, and the soft little “Hm?” you let out made something twist inside Niragi’s chest. He clenched his jaw, eyes narrowing.

Hatter smiled. That fucking smile. It stretched across his face like a serpent. “How do you find our little haven?”

You blinked, glancing around the room. “It’s… nice.” You hesitated. “I mean, the halls were pretty. The pool party looked fun.” You smiled softly, tilting your head. “I bet people feel safe here.”

Hatter chuckled, the sound low and smooth. “That’s the idea.” He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. “And you? Do you feel safe?”

Niragi tensed. His fingers dug into the back of your chair, white-knuckled. He wanted to shove Hatter’s teeth down his fucking throat. He wanted to grab you and drag you out of here, away from all these leering eyes.

But you just smiled, soft and sweet. “I feel safe with them.”

Hatter’s eyes flicked to Niragi and Chishiya. “Is that so?”

You nodded. “They’ve been really good to me.” You hesitated, glancing down at your hands. “I… don’t think I would’ve made it this far without them.”

Niragi scoffed, looking away. His chest ached. You were too soft. Too trusting. You didn’t know what the fuck you were saying.

But the worst part? He wanted to believe you.

Chishiya sat silently in front of you, his mind was somewhere else. Niragi could tell. He was too quiet. Too still. He didn’t like it.

“They’re lucky.” Hatter said softly, his gaze lingering on you. “To have someone like you.”

You flushed. “Thank you.”

Niragi rolled his eyes. This was fucking unbearable.

“Sweet little thing.” Mira murmured, her voice soft and lilting. She tilted her head, studying you like a butterfly pinned to a board. “I can see why they kept you.”

Your eyes widened. “Kept me?”

Mira just smiled.

Niragi clenched his fists. He wanted to tear the smugness off her face.

Ann, quiet until now, leaned forward, her gaze settling on you. “How long have you been with them?”

You blinked. “Um. A month, I think?” You glanced at Niragi, then Chishiya. “I’m not sure. Time feels weird here.”

Hatter chuckled. “Well, isn’t this fascinating.” He leaned back, folding his hands behind his head. “Two of my most dangerous boys… and a little angel.”

You bit your lip, glancing down. “I’m not an angel.”

“Oh, but you are.” Hatter’s gaze slid over to Niragi, then Chishiya. “And I’d say they know it, too.”

Niragi’s jaw clenched. He could still taste you. Soft lips and warm breath. It had been a mistake. He shouldn’t have kissed you. Shouldn’t have let you in. But fuck, he’d wanted it. Still wanted it.

You shifted in the chair, the soft rustle of fabric cutting through the silence. Niragi’s eyes flicked down. Your knees pressed together, your hands fidgeting in your lap. So small. So sweet.

Chishiya hadn’t said a word. Niragi glanced at him, eyes narrowing. The bastard looked bored. But Niragi knew better. He could see the tightness in his jaw, the slight twitch in his fingers. He was thinking. About what, Niragi didn’t know. Didn’t care.

Because you were here. In this room. With him. After everything he’d told you last night, after everything he’d done, you were still here.

You turned back to Hatter, smiling softly. “I just… I want to help.”

Hatter raised his eyebrows. “Help?”

You nodded. “I mean… if I can. I don’t know how things work here, but… I’m good at taking care of people.” You glanced at Niragi, then Chishiya. “They can vouch for that.”

Chishiya snorted softly. Niragi shot him a glare.

Hatter chuckled, shaking his head. “Oh, darling. I think you’ll fit in just fine.”

You smiled, bright and beautiful. Niragi hated it. Because he wanted it. And he knew—deep down, where all the dark, fucked-up parts of him lived—that he would do anything to keep it.

Hatter leaned back in his chair. That slow, satisfied smirk tugged at his lips, sunglasses gleaming in the light. The weight of the room settled heavy over your shoulders, but you kept your soft little smile, hands clasped neatly in your lap, just the way they liked it.

“Well.” Hatter drawled, dragging the word out like smoke curling from a cigarette. “I’d say that settles it.” He raised a hand, two fingers flicking lazily in the air. “Give the girl a bracelet.”

One of the hot ass bodyguards moved forward. He pulled one of those bracelets from his pocket, the silver number glinting under the lights. As he reached for your wrist, his gaze softened, just a little. His fingers brushed against your skin as he slipped the bracelet on, and when you looked up at him with that sweet, bright smile, he actually smiled back.

Chishiya noticed.

Of course he did. Chishiya noticed everything. The slight tilt of the guy’s head, the flicker of warmth in his eyes. He liked you. And why wouldn’t he? You were a dream. Something soft in a world that had gone hard. Chishiya watched the way you thanked him—the little tilt of your head, the flutter of your lashes. So polite. So sweet.

He felt sick.

The bracelet fit snugly around your wrist, the silver number catching the light. You turned your hand this way and that, watching it sparkle. “Thank you.” you whispered, soft and sweet, and the bodyguard gave you a little nod before stepping back.

Hatter clapped his hands together, the sharp sound cutting through the quiet. “There we have it!” He gestured lazily at Niragi and Chishiya. “You two can fill her in on the rules later.” His eyes slid to you, grin widening. “Welcome to the Beach, angel.”

You smiled, bright and innocent, completely oblivious to the way the room watched you. To the way Chishiya’s stomach twisted at the sound of Hatter’s voice curling around that word. Angel.

Niragi’s hand landed on your shoulder. Heavy. Possessive. “Come on.” he muttered, giving you a little shove.

“Wait.”

Aguni’s voice was low, rough. Niragi tensed. His hand dropped from your shoulder as he turned, eyes narrowing. Aguni didn’t say anything else. Just looked at him.

Niragi scowled. “Tch.”

You blinked, glancing between them. “What’s—?”

“Go with Chishiya.” Niragi grunted.

You hesitated. “But—”

“Go.”

You bit your lip but nodded. Slowly, you pushed yourself up from the chair. Chishiya stood as well, like a cat stretching in the sun. He didn’t say anything. Just slipped his hands into his pockets and waited. You glanced at Niragi once more—but he wouldn’t meet your eyes. So you turned and followed Chishiya out of the room.

The halls were quiet, the distant thrum of music echoing from the pool. “Do you think Niragi’s okay?” you asked.

Chishiya raised a brow. “Does it matter?”

You frowned. “Of course it matters.”

He studied you for a long moment. The soft curve of your lips. The gentle furrow of your brows. So fucking sweet. It made his teeth ache.

You walked in silence for a while. Chishiya’s mind spun, thoughts clicking into place like puzzle pieces. He’d been trying to figure you out since the moment you found them. Since the moment you saved them. Why would someone like you care about someone like Niragi? Or him, for that matter?

He glanced at you again. You were staring down at your bracelet, fiddling with the band, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip. Chishiya frowned.

“What?” he asked.

You startled. “Huh?”

“You’re thinking too loud.”

You laughed softly. “Sorry.”

He waited.

You hesitated, glancing up at him. “Do you think… Do you think Niragi’s mad at me?”

Chishiya snorted. “Why would he be mad at you?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. I just… I feel like I did something wrong.”

Chishiya watched you for a long moment. The way your fingers curled around your wrist. The way your eyes darted nervously down the hall. So fucking soft.

“Niragi’s always mad.” he said quietly. “Don’t take it personally.”

You didn’t look convinced. But you nodded anyway.

Chishiya sighed, looking away. This place was going to eat you alive.

“So.” you began softly, looking up at Chishiya. “What’s the deal with the bracelet?”

Chishiya spared you a glance. “It means you’re a member.”

You blinked. “That’s it?”

He sighed. “It means you have a room now.”

You smiled at that. “Oh, that’s nice.”

Chishiya arched a brow. “Is it?”

You frowned, glancing around the pristine hallways, the flickering neon lights in the distance. “Isn’t it?”

Chishiya huffed out a quiet laugh. “We’ll see.”

Before you could ask what he meant, a door swung open down the hall, slamming against the wall with a loud BANG. You jumped, eyes widening as a figure stormed out into the corridor.

“Chishiya!”

The woman’s voice was sharp, echoing off the walls. Chishiya didn’t flinch, barely even spared her a glance. You, on the other hand, blinked rapidly, taking a nervous step closer to him.

“Kuina.” Chishiya greeted, voice as flat as ever. “Miss me?”

The woman—Kuina, apparently—stormed toward him, eyes blazing. She shoved his shoulder, hard enough to make him stumble a step back. You gasped softly, eyes darting between them.

“You disappeared.” Kuina’s voice was low, angry. “For a month.”

Chishiya shrugged. “Got caught up.”

“Caught up?” Her eyes narrowed, fists clenching at her sides. “I thought you were dead, you asshole.”

“Sorry to disappoint.”

Kuina rolled her eyes, those shifting to you for the first time. Her anger faltered, brow furrowing as she took you in—the soft pink of your dress, the nervous grip you had on Chishiya’s sleeve, the wide, innocent eyes staring up at her.

“And who are you?” she asked, voice softening just a little.

You smiled shyly. “Y/N.”

Kuina stared at you for a long moment. Then she looked back at Chishiya. “Seriously?”

Chishiya shrugged. “She’s… interesting.”

Your smile faltered. Was that a compliment? It didn’t really sound like one.

Kuina huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking her head. “Unbelievable.” Her eyes softened as she looked at you again. “You okay?”

You blinked. “Oh! Yeah. I’m fine.”

“Good.” She shot Chishiya a glare. “Because this one? He’s an asshole.”

You giggled. “I’ve noticed.”

Kuina smirked, crossing her arms over her chest. “I like you.”

Chishiya sighed. “Of course you do.”

Kuina ignored him, turning back toward the hallway. “Come on. You’re new, right? I’ll show you to your room.”

You hesitated, glancing up at Chishiya. He gave you a slow nod, and you hurried after Kuina, your soft little steps echoing against the marble floors. Chishiya followed behind you, watching silently.

Kuina was right. He was an asshole.

She glanced down at you, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “You’re cute.”

Your eyes widened. “Thank you.”

She chuckled. “No wonder Chishiya likes you.”

You blinked up at her. “What?”

Kuina just smirked. “Nothing.”

The two of you walked in silence for a bit, the music growing fainter behind you. You fiddled with the bracelet around your wrist, the cold metal pressing against your skin.

“Do you have a bathing suit?” Kuina asked suddenly.

You looked up, startled. “What?”

“A bathing suit.” She gestured toward the walls. “You’ll need one if you wanna hang out by the pool.”

Your lips parted. “Oh.” You blinked. “No, I… I didn’t exactly bring one.”

Kuina moved that fuck around her mouth. “Come on. Let’s fix that.”

Before you could protest, she grabbed your hand and tugged you down another hallway. You stumbled after her, your soft little gasps echoing through the corridor. Behind you, Chishiya sighed quietly and leaned against the wall, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Kuina led you to a supply room, its door slightly ajar. She pushed it open and flicked on the light, revealing shelves upon shelves of neatly folded towels, stacks of pool floats, and rows of colorful bikinis hanging along the far wall. Your eyes widened.

“Whoa.” you whispered.

“Help yourself.” Kuina said.

You hesitated. “Are you sure?”

She shrugged. “They’re just sitting here. Might as well put them to good use.”

You bit your lip, glancing over the selection. The bikinis were all so… tiny. Delicate strings and soft fabrics, all in bright colors and bold patterns. You ran your fingers over a soft pink one, your heart fluttering in your chest.

Kuina made sure the door was closed before she plopped down on a nearby chair, crossing her legs. “Try some on.”

Your cheeks flushed. “Oh. Uh…” You shifted nervously. “Okay.”

You grabbed a few bikinis and disappeared behind a rack of towels, quickly slipping out of your dress. The first bikini was a soft baby pink, the fabric barely covering anything. You hesitated before stepping out, your arms wrapped around yourself shyly.

Kuina raised a brow. “Damn.” She grinned. “You look hot.”

You giggled, hiding your face in your hands. “Stop!”

She laughed. “I’m serious.” Her eyes flicked over you appreciatively. “Chishiya’s gonna lose his mind.”

You blinked. “What?”

“Nothing.”

You tried on a few more bikinis, Kuina offering her opinions with each one. She was surprisingly sweet, her earlier anger at Chishiya melting away as she giggled and gossiped with you. After a while, you found yourself relaxing, the two of you falling into cssual conversation.

“So,” Kuina said as you tried on a soft blue bikini. “what’s with you and Chishiya?”

You blinked. “What do you mean?”

She arched a brow. “You two seem… close.”

You bit your lip. “Oh. Well…” You hesitated. “I found him and Niragi after a game.”

“Niragi?”

You hesitated. “Yeah.”

Kuina crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair. “And?”

You sighed, sitting down beside her. “They were both pretty banged up. I… I took care of them.” You fiddled with the hem of your bikini top. “They stayed with me after that.”

Kuina frowned. “And Niragi?”

You hesitated. “He’s… complicated.”

Kuina snorted. “That’s one way to put it.”

You bit your lip. “I know he’s done bad things.”

Kuina scoffed. “That’s an understatement.”

You looked down at your hands. “But… I don’t know.” Your voice softened. “He’s different with me.”

Kuina sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Be careful with him, okay?”

Too late for that, after last night.

You nodded softly. “I will.”

Kuina studied you for a long moment. Then she smiled softly. “You’re too sweet for this place.”

You flushed. “Oh. Um… thank you?”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Come on. There are way better looking ones than this.”

You giggled, the two of you diving back into the racks of clothes. Outside the door, Chishiya leaned against the wall, listening quietly. His lips curled into a faint smirk.

You really were too sweet for this place.

~

You dropped the bikinis onto your bed, the brightly colored fabric a stark contrast against the white sheets. You turned toward Kuina and Chishiya, your eyes sparkling as you held up a soft pink one, the delicate strings dangling from your fingers.

“I used to have a bikini kind of like this.” you said, twirling it in the air. “But, like… nicer, you know?”

Kuina raised a brow, lounging in the desk chair with her legs draped over the armrest. “Nicer?”

You nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah! It was designer. Cost a fortune, but it was so worth it.” You sighed wistfully. “It had little crystals along the straps.” You plopped down on the bed, spreading the bikinis out in front of you. “I used to have a whole collection of designer swimsuits. And dresses. And shoes.” You paused, frowning slightly. “I wonder what happened to all that stuff.”

Chishiya, perched on the windowsill with his arms crossed, raised a brow. “Probably doesn’t matter much now.”

You pouted. “I guess.” You ran your fingers over the soft fabric of a blue bikini. “Still… it’s kinda sad.”

Kuina tilted her head. “You must’ve been pretty loaded.”

You shrugged. “My family had money.” You smiled softly. “Lucky that I didn’t turn out a bitch.”

Kuina hummed, watching you quietly. You were so… soft. So delicate. Sitting there cross-legged on the bed, surrounded by pretty little bikinis, your fingers brushing over the fabric like it was something precious. Chishiya just watched you in silence, his eyes half-lidded.

You sighed, flopping onto your back and staring up at the ceiling. “I miss bubble baths.”

Kuina blinked. “Bubble baths?”

You nodded, your voice soft. “Yeah. And scented candles. And those little bath bombs that make the water all sparkly.” You closed your eyes, a small smile on your lips. “I used to light candles, put on some soft music, and just… relax.”

Kuina scoffed. “Sounds nice.”

“It was.” You opened your eyes, staring up at the ceiling. “I miss soft things. Fluffy towels. Cozy blankets. Big sweaters.” You sighed softly. “Everything here is so… hard.”

Kuina looked at Chishiya, who just shrugged.

You turned your head to look at them, your eyes wide and soft. “Do you guys miss anything?”

Kuina hesitated. “I dunno.” She shifted in her chair. “I guess… I miss normal stuff. Like… going out for drinks with my friends.”

You smiled. “That sounds nice.”

Kuina nodded. “It was.”

You turned to Chishiya, your head tilting slightly. “What about you?”

Chishiya blinked slowly. “I don’t really miss anything.”

You frowned. “Nothing?”

He shrugged. “Nothing worth missing.”

You stared at him for a long moment, your eyes searching his face. Finally, you sighed softly and looked away. “That’s kinda sad.”

Chishiya just watched you in silence, his expression unreadable. Kuina leaned back in the chair, arms folded, one brow arched as she watched Chishiya perched against the windowsill, looking as nonchalant as ever. She huffed. “Alright, genius. Time to get lost.”

Chishiya blinked slowly, tilting his head. “Excuse me?”

Kuina shrugged. “She needs to change.” She gestured toward you, who had paused mid-bikini inspection to blink between the two of them. “Unless you wanna stay and watch.” She raised her brows. “Wouldn’t put it past you.”

Chishiya scoffed, though his expression didn’t change much. “I’ll pass.” He pushed off the windowsill, slipping past Kuina toward the door. Just as he reached for the handle, he glanced back at you. “Don’t take too long.” Then he slipped out into the hallway, the door clicking softly behind him.

Kuina let out a sigh, stretching her arms over her head. “Finally.” She turned to you, gaze softening. “Come on, princess. Let’s get you ready.”

You giggled softly, scooping up the pink bikini and hugging it to your chest. “Bathroom?”

She nodded, following close behind as you pushed open the bathroom door. You set the bikini down on the counter, eyeing the shower longingly. “God, I need this.”

Kuina shrugged, leaning against the doorframe. “Take your time.”

You hesitated, glancing over your shoulder at her. “You… you can stay. If you want. Just… don’t look.”

Her brows shot up. “Seriously?”

You nodded, biting your lip. “Yeah. I don’t mind. I just… I don’t wanna be alone.”

Kuina’s expression softened. “Alright. I’ll stay.” She slid down to sit on the floor, resting her back against the door. “Promise I won’t peek.”

You smiled softly, turning back to the shower. The water sputtered to life, quickly heating up into a soothing stream. You slipped out of your clothes, carefully folding them and setting them on the counter before stepping into the spray.

The water hit your skin, and you let out a soft sigh of relief, tilting your head back and letting it cascade over you. It was hot—hotter than you expected—and it felt like it was washing away weeks’ worth of grime and fear and exhaustion.

Kuina kept quiet, respecting your silence, only the occasional rustle of skin on fabric or the soft tap of her fingers against the tile filling the space.

You reached for the tiny shampoo, lathering it into your hair with slow movements. “Hey, Kuina?” you called softly, your voice barely audible over the sound of the water.

“Yeah?”

You hesitated, biting your lip. “Do you… do you think we’ll get out of here?”

Kuina was quiet for a long moment. “I don’t know.”

You swallowed, rinsing the shampoo from your hair. “I hope we do.”

Kuina let out a soft chuckle. “Me too.”

You reached for the razor you’d found earlier, carefully dragging it along your body, taking your time. When you finished, you turned off the water, the sudden silence almost deafening. You stood there for a moment, just breathing, before reaching for the towel hanging on the rack.

Kuina kept her promise, staring pointedly at the wall as you wrapped the towel around yourself and stepped out of the shower. You caught her eye in the mirror, offering her a soft smile.

“Thanks.” you whispered.

She smiled back. “Anytime.”

You turned to the counter, carefully unwrapping the pink bikini and slipping it on, adjusting the straps until it sat just right. The fabric was soft against your freshly cleaned skin, and you felt… new. Almost.

Kuina pushed herself to her feet, crossing the small space to stand behind you. She rested her chin on your shoulder, meeting your eyes in the mirror.

It was actually insane that you made her this comfortable—like, her chin on your shoulder, insane—in such a short time. But she saw that you were genuine. Kuina liked you.

You let her in, she let you in. That easy.

“Damn.” she said softly. “You’re gonna turn some heads.”

You blushed, ducking your head. “You think so?”

“I know so.”

You giggled, the sound light and soft, like the first rays of sunlight after a long night. And for the first time in a long time, you felt… okay. Maybe not great. But okay.

You tied your hair up, the pink bikini sitting pretty on your skin. Kuina watched from behind you, arms folded.

“So.” she drawled, tilting her head. “Where to? You wanna check out the pool?”

You perked up at the suggestion, eyes lighting up as you turned toward her. “Really? That sounds… nice.” You smoothed your hands over the fabric of your bikini, as if making sure everything was just right.

“Alright then. Pool it is.”

You gave her a soft smile, grabbing a hair tie from your bag and twisting your damp hair into something that felt right.(AN: could be a bun, a ponytail, anything you like, but put it up, it’s pretty.)

Chishiya was still outside the room. Leaning against the wall, arms folded across his chest, his head tilted back against the wall. His eyes slid lazily toward the two of you as the door clicked shut, taking you in quietly.

You barely noticed him, too busy chattering softly with Kuina as you padded down the hallway. Chishiya pushed off the wall, falling into step behind you without a word.

You were different now.

He watched you as you walked ahead, your ass not what caught his attention—though he checked that out too—no, it was the lightness in your step. The way you moved, the way you laughed softly at something Kuina said, the way your fingers fluttered in the air as you talked, painting pictures with your words.

You were always different.

He’d seen you bare before. Not just in the physical sense—though he had—but in the quiet moments. The raw, painful ones. When you cried under the spray of the shower, your body curled in on itself, trembling. He hadn’t cared about the way your body looked then. No, he’d been too focused on the way you’d fallen apart. The sound of your soft sobs, crumbling into pieces.

And now… now you were this. Soft. Bright. A little beam of light bouncing off the cold walls.

It was brutal.

How could one person hold so much? How could you be so many things all at once? Every time he looked at you, it was like seeing someone new. And every time, he wanted more.

Chishiya shoved his hands into his pockets, eyes narrowing slightly as he watched you. Was this what people called… obsession? No. He wasn’t obsessed. He was curious. Interested. That’s all.

That’s all.

~

The pool was alive with music and laughter, the water glowing under the soft lights. People were all over the place, drinks in hand, bodies pressed together as they danced and laughed and tried to forget where they were.

You slipped through the crowd with Kuina, the two of you giggling softly as you made your way toward the edge of the pool. Chishiya hung back, watching. Always watching.

He thought about earlier. About the way he’d wanted you, back when you were still on your way to the beach. Not just in the way most men wanted women, though there was that, too. No, it was deeper than that. It wasn’t your body—not really. It was you.

You were light. Softness. Sweetness. In a world that had stripped everyone bare, leaving only the worst parts behind, you remained untouched. Untainted.

That’s what why he wanted to ruin you.

Or maybe… maybe he wanted you to ruin him.

Fuck.

He didn’t understand this. He didn’t understand you.

But he wanted to.

The music thudded dully against Chishiya’s ears, but all he heard was the sound of your laugh.

You stood near the pool, Kuina at your side, chatting with some random guy. He was tall, dark haired, good looking enough. Not that Chishiya cared. He wasn’t paying attention to him. His eyes were on you.

You were smiling. That soft, sweet smile that made something inside him twist violently. He told himself it was just curiosity. That’s what this was. You were… interesting. A new thing to his life, that’s what made his insides turn. That’s all.

But god, it was so much more than that, wasn’t it?

Denial.

You tilted your head, eyes wide and curious as the guy said something. You laughed softly, and Chishiya’s jaw tightened. Fuck. Why did that sound crawl under his skin? Why did it feel like nails dragging down his spine?

He hadn’t figured you out yet. That was the problem.

What the fuck were you?

You’d wormed your way into his head without even trying. One moment, he wanted to push you away, watch you stumble, watch you fall. The next, he wanted to pull you close, feel your warmth against him, see if you were real.

He’d wanted you in bed. That much was simple. Primal. Easy.

Then he wanted to see you smile.

Then he wanted you gone.

Then he wanted you closer.

Then he wanted to tell you things he’d never said out loud. Things he barely admitted to himself.

He watched you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, your fingers delicate, your smile soft. The guy leaned in a little closer, saying something that made Kuina snort with laughter. You giggled, pressing a hand to your mouth.

It was unbearable.

You weren’t his. You weren’t anything. You were just… you. Soft and bright and untouchable.

And he wanted to touch.

He wanted to ruin you. To drag you down into the dark with him. To see what you’d look like when there was nothing left of that softness.

But then…

Then he wanted to protect you. To keep you safe. To shield you from every sharp edge of the world.

His mind twisted itself into knots, the thoughts coming too fast, too fucked up. He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, scowling.

What the fuck was wrong with him?

Chemistry, Chishiya. Chemistry between two people is wrong with you.

He was good at keeping people out. At staying detached. But you… you wormed your way in. And he didn’t know what to do about that.

And then—like you could feel him watching—you turned.

Your eyes met his, and you beamed. So sweet. So soft. So you.

Before he could even think about looking away, you excused yourself from the conversation and started toward him. Chishiya straightened subtly. His heart kicked against his ribs. What the fuck was that about?

“Hey.” Your voice was soft, light. “You okay?”

Chishiya raised an eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

You shrugged, that same sweet little smile playing on your lips. “I dunno. Just… you’ve been over here all by yourself.” You tilted your head, studying him, making sure he was alright. “Thought I’d check on you.”

That stupid twist in his chest tightened. He scoffed softly, looking away. “I’m fine.”

“Okay.” You nodded, not pushing. Just accepting. That made him grit his teeth even harder.

Before he could say something snarky—push you away, push you away, push you away—Kuina walked over, a grin tugging at her lips.

“What’s this? The Chishiya actually socializing?” She gasped dramatically. “What’s next, Niragi handing out hugs?”

You giggled softly, and Chishiya just rolled his eyes. “Don’t get used to it.”

Kuina snorted, crossing her arms. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” Then, her gaze flicked back toward the pool, where the guy you’d been talking to was still lingering. “You make a new friend?”

“Oh!” Your eyes widened slightly, glancing back over your shoulder. “I guess? He was nice.”

Chishiya’s jaw ticked. “Who was that?” He meant for it to sound casual. It didn’t.

Kuina raised an eyebrow, a sly grin curling at her lips. “That? That’s Akira. He does gambling sometimes. Collects information. And, apparently, flirts with cute girls.”

(AN: He’s not an OC or anything, but he WILL be important!! I swear I’m not one of those writers who put random OCs in their fics, I created this character for a reason.)

You blushed. Chishiya hated that, too.

“Come on.” you said, grabbing Chishiya’s sleeve and tugging softly. “Let’s sit down.”

Chishiya’s heart pounded against his ribs, and he had to swallow hard to shove down the sudden, burning heat that crawled up his throat.

Kuina watched him with a knowing smirk, and he scowled. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” She blinked innocently.

“Shut up.”

But still, he let you tug him along.

You led them over to a pair of sun chairs near the pool, plopping yourself down on one and patting the seat next to you. Chishiya hesitated, but after a long moment, he sighed and dropped into the chair, stretching his legs out lazily. Kuina flopped down on your other side, propping her chin in her hand.

The three of you sat in silence for a while, the music thudding softly in the background, the water shimmering under the lights.

“So…” Kuina drawled, kicking her feet out in front of her. “What do you think?”

“About what?” you asked, tilting your head.

She gestured vaguely to the pool, the music, the people. “All this. The Beach. The ‘utopia.’”

You pursed your lips, thinking. “It’s… nice. I mean, it’s a little weird. But everyone seems happy. And the pool is pretty.” You smiled softly, eyes catching the light as they danced across the surface of the water. “I dunno. I think it’s nice to pretend for a little while. Even if it’s not real.”

Chishiya watched you quietly, his eyes studying every little movement, every flicker of emotion across your face. You were so open. So soft. He wanted to protect it. He let out a soft breath, leaning back and closing his eyes. Your words buzzed in his head, soft and warm, curling around his thoughts like smoke.

Nice to pretend.

For the first time in his life, he found himself agreeing.

You stretched out on the sun chair, your fingers trailing lazily over the fabric, your legs tucked beneath you. The soft glow of the pool lights painted your skin in hues of blue and green, making you look almost ethereal. Chishiya glanced at you from the corner of his eye, trying not to be obvious about it.

You tilted your head, eyes flicking toward the DJ booth. The guy behind the turntables was shirtless, his fingers dancing over the soundboard. He caught your eye and winked.

“Oh.” You blinked, surprised, before breaking into a soft giggle. “The DJ just winked at me.”

Chishiya’s eyes snapped open. He turned his head slightly, squinting at the guy.

Niragi would’ve killed him.

He didn’t know why that thought hit him so fast, so clear, but there it was. Niragi would’ve walked across the pool deck and ripped the guy’s fucking face off without a second thought. And Chishiya… Chishiya would’ve let him.

Kuina snorted, resting her chin in her hand. “Well, you are cute. I bet he’s not the first guy who’s tried.” She nudged you playfully. “What do you think? Gonna go over there and dance for him?”

You laughed, soft and sweet, shaking your head. “No way.”

Chishiya hated the little twist that made in his chest.

The DJ spun the track into something faster, bass thumping harder, and a cheer went up from around and in the pool as people started to dance. You tucked your knees up against your chest, resting your chin on them, watching the party.

Kuina stretched, sighing. “This place is insane. I swear half the people here are completely unbearable.” She glanced at you, turning that little stick around her mouth. “You sure you’re not interested in that DJ? He’s not bad.”

You made a face. “He’s okay, I guess. But…” You hesitated, chewing your lip. “I dunno. It feels weird. Everyone’s acting like this is some kind of vacation. But it’s not.”

Chishiya watched you closely. Your voice was soft, thoughtful, and it made something curl in his stomach. Of course you saw through it all. Of course you did.

He wanted to protect that part of you.

Or maybe he wanted to break it.

His thoughts were a mess—tangled, cutting him every time he tried to unravel them. One minute, he wanted you soft and safe, untouched by the filth of this world. The next, he wanted to pull you down into the darkness with him, watch the light drain from your eyes as you realized there was no hope, no escape.

That was because he was so jealous.

You shifted beside him, and the scent of lavender drifted through the air. You smelled like that.

He hated you.

He wanted you.

He wanted to destroy you.

He wanted to save you.

“Chishiya?”

Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts. He blinked, turning to find you looking at him with those wide, curious eyes. Fuck, those eyes saw too much.

“Hm?” He raised an eyebrow, masking the feelings swirling inside him.

You smiled softly. “You okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

You shrugged. “You seem… quiet.”

He huffed, leaning back on his elbows. “I’m always quiet.”

You giggled, and Chishiya felt his heart skip a beat. Fuck.

He glanced back at the DJ booth, narrowing his eyes. “So. You interested in him?”

Your eyes widened. “What? No!” You laughed, shaking your head. “I just thought it was funny. He winked. That’s all.”

Chishiya hummed, watching you closely. “Mm.”

Kuina arched an eyebrow. “Why do you care, Chishiya?” Her tone was teasing, but her eyes looked like they knew what was up, watching him closely. “Jealous?”

Chishiya scoffed. “Hardly.”

But the truth was… he didn’t know what he felt. It wasn’t jealousy. Not exactly. It was something darker. Something worse. Something possessive and cold, curling around his heart like a snake.

He wanted to take you away from all this. From the DJ and the pool and the party. From Kuina. From Niragi. From everything. He wanted you all to himself, soft and sweet and perfect, just for him.

And that terrified him.

You shifted closer, resting your head against his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here.” you murmured softly. “Both of you.”

Kuina smiled at you, her eyes soft. “Sure.”

Chishiya said nothing. He just stared at the pool, the music fading into the background, and tried not to think about the way your warmth seeped into his skin.

Kuina watched you with a kind of fascination. You were weird. Not in a bad way—not at all—but in a way that didn’t fit into this place.

What the hell were you doing with Chishiya and Niragi?

She glanced at Chishiya out of the corner of her eye. He was stiff, unreadable as always, but there was a flicker of something behind that cool gaze every time he looked at you. It wasn’t like him. She’d known him long enough to pick up on the subtle shifts in his mood, and this was… different. Unsettling, almost. Like watching a snake slowly coil around something soft and unsuspecting.

And the worst part? You didn’t even notice.

You just smiled, leaning toward her, eyes lighting up as you caught sight of her nails. “Oh my god, your nails are so pretty!” You reached out, taking her hand gently, turning it this way and that under the lights. “Where did you get them done?”

Kuina blinked. “Uh… did them myself.” She felt herself softening under your attention, your sweet little voice chipping away at her usual guard. “You like them?”

“They’re gorgeous.” you breathed, grinning up at her. “I used to be obsessed with doing my nails before all… this.” You gestured vaguely at the Beach, the world, everything. “I was terrible at it, though. Always smudged them.”

Kuina chuckled. “I’ll do yours sometime. I’ve got a bunch of colors.”

Your eyes widened. “Really?”

“Sure.”

Chishiya shifted beside you, looking distinctly unimpressed with the conversation, but you ignored him. You were too busy chatting away with Kuina, bouncing between topics. It was weird. But Kuina liked weird. Weird was interesting.

And then Niragi showed up.

Kuina tensed the moment she spotted him, her smile fading. That fucking guy. He moved through the crowd like a predator, his rifle slung casually over his shoulder like an accessory. People parted for him without even realizing they were doing it, some instinctual fear making them step aside.

Kuina hated the way he looked at you.

You didn’t seem to notice the tension that settled over the group as he approached. You just blinked up at him, curious, as he stopped in front of you and tossed something into your lap.

You caught it clumsily, frowning down at the object in your hands. A key.

You looked up, confused. “What’s this?”

Niragi smirked, leaning on the back of the chair next to yours. “Got you a good room. You’ll like it.”

Oh, so like, a better one? Sure.

Kuina watched the exchange closely, her stomach twisting. The fuck was that about? Niragi wasn’t exactly known for being generous. If he got you a new room, there was a reason for it. And judging by the way he was watching you, it wasn’t a good one.

You, of course, just smiled softly. “Oh… thank you, Niragi.”

Kuina almost choked. What the fuck? No one thanked Niragi. Ever. She glanced at Chishiya, expecting some kind of reaction, but he just sat there, quiet his gaze flicking between you and Niragi.

And Niragi… Niragi was looking at you… different.

Fuck.

“Well.” Kuina said, standing abruptly. “This has been fun, but I think I need a drink.” She grabbed your hand, pulling you to your feet. “Come on, let’s go.”

You hesitated, glancing between the boys. “Oh… okay. Um, I’ll see you guys later?”

Neither of them answered.

As Kuina dragged you away, she risked one last glance over her shoulder. Niragi was still watching you. And Chishiya… Chishiya looked almost bored, but Kuina knew better. She’d seen the way he watched you.

The moment you disappeared into the crowd with Kuina, Chishiya and Niragi stood there, silent, the music thumping around them, neon lights streaking across their faces. Chishiya leaned back in his chair, arms folding lazily across his chest, his gaze flicking to Niragi’s rifle, then back to his face. Niragi’s lip curled.

They didn’t need to speak. The air was already poisoned.

Niragi tilted his head,, eyes narrowing mockingly. “You’re awful quiet.” His voice was low, half a sneer. “What’s wrong, Chishiya? Don’t like sharing?”

Chishiya smirked, the corner of his mouth curling upward, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Sharing implies you have something I want.”

Niragi laughed, shoving off the chair. “Keep telling yourself that.” He slung his rifle back over his shoulder and disappeared into the crowd. Silent. He didn’t need to stick close to you—he knew how to follow unnoticed.

And Chishiya let him go.

Because Niragi wasn’t the problem, was he?

You were.

Kuina liked you. She couldn’t help it. You were just so… sweet.

The Beach was a fucking nightmare. Even now, in the middle of a party, the air felt too thick, the music too loud, the smiles too fake.

But you? You were soft. Gentle.

She watched you as you spoke, your hands fluttering with every word, your eyes wide. Like you didn’t belong here. Maybe that’s why Chishiya was acting so weird. Maybe that’s why Niragi hovered in the shadows, the fucker.

They didn’t deserve you. Neither of them.

You turned to her suddenly, your fingers brushing her arm, your eyes bright. “Kuina, did you see that guy’s shirt? It had little sharks on it!” You said, soft and sweet, and Kuina found herself smiling despite everything.

“Yeah.” she said. “Wouldn’t wear it, though.”

You giggled, and Kuina felt something twist in her chest.

Fuck. Okay.

Chishiya watched you from a distance.

You were laughing at something Kuina said, your face bright, eyes sparkling under the neon lights.

It made him sick.

No, that wasn’t right. It made him angry.

Why were you like this? Why did you care? About him? About Niragi? About anyone? What did you see when you looked at him? When you touched his arm, soft and gentle, like he was something worth saving?

He wanted to ruin you.

No, he didn’t.

Yes, he did.

Fuck.

Chishiya closed his eyes, taking a slow breath. He’d wanted you before. He could admit that. Wanted to push you against a wall and see what sounds you’d make. Wanted to feel your soft little body under his hands, all pliant and sweet.

But that wasn’t what this was anymore.

It wasn’t about sex. It wasn’t about power.

It was about you.

You, who had wormed your way into his mind. You, who made his chest tighten and his hands shake. You, who made him want.

Niragi’s fingers twitched on the trigger of his rifle.

He stood in the shadows, eyes locked on you. The music pounded in his ears, the lights flashing across your face. You looked so soft. So sweet. Too sweet.

You kissed him.

You kissed him, and he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Your lips, soft and warm. Your little hands on him. The way you looked at him afterward, eyes wide, breathing heavy. Like you cared. Like you fucking wanted him.

He should’ve laughed in your face. Should’ve shoved you away. Should’ve told you how pathetic you were for thinking he was anything but a monster.

But he didn’t.

He let you kiss him.

And now he was losing his fucking mind.

He watched you laugh with Kuina, your smile bright, your body soft and perfect in that little bikini. He wanted to drag you away. Wanted to pin you down and hear you beg for him. Wanted to mark you, bruise you, claim you, make sure everyone knew who you belonged to.

But more than that…

He wanted you to smile at him like that.

Fuck.

It was all you.

It had always been you.

It all revolved around you.

Every glance, every breath, every heartbeat. You were the axis the world spun on, the thread woven through their minds, tugging tighter with every step you took, every word you said. You. It was you.

Chishiya felt it in the quiet spaces—the moments where you tilted your head, eyes soft, waiting for him to speak when no one else dared. The way your fingers brushed his wrist, light as a ghost, comforting him without even knowing it. You smiled like you had no idea what you were doing to him. Like you didn’t know you were cracking open the parts of him he’d kept sealed off his entire life.

He’d spent years building walls. Years perfecting his indifference. No one ever got close. Not really. Not until you.

And Niragi? Niragi felt it in the chaos.

You were the only thing he thought about anymore. You, with your soft voice and your wide eyes. You, who kissed him like he was worth something. You, who looked at him without fear. It made him crazy. He wanted to break you, to tear you apart, to see what you’d look like shattered under his hands.

But more than that, he wanted you to stay.

Every step you took, every laugh, every soft glance—it all belonged to you. They belonged to you. And you didn’t even know it.

You moved through the crowd like you belonged there, but you didn’t. Not really. You stood out like a candle in the dark.

And they wanted to snuff you out.

Or maybe they just wanted to keep you.

Maybe they wanted to lock you away, safe from everyone but them. Maybe they wanted to hold you so tight you could never leave. Maybe they wanted to own you. Completely.

It didn’t matter.

Because it was all you.

It had always been you.

~

You dropped your pink little bag onto the pristine white bed, the bikinis spilling out. The room was bigger than the last one—softer, quieter, tucked away from the chaos outside. You could barely hear the music thumping from the pool, just a low, distant pulse. It felt… safe. Or as safe as this place could get.

Chishiya stood by the window, hands in his pockets, eyes half-lidded as he stared out at the dark city. He didn’t say much. He never did. Just watched. Always watching.

You flopped onto the bed with a sigh, legs kicking lazily in the air. “Okay, this is definitely an upgrade.” you said, grinning as you rolled onto your back. “What do you think?”

Chishiya shrugged, gaze flicking toward you. “It’s a room.”

You pouted. “Come on. It’s nice. Don’t be so grumpy.”

That earned you a slow blink. “I’m not grumpy.”

“You’re always grumpy.” You propped yourself up on your elbows, watching him. “Well… unless you’re with Kuina. You two seem close.”

Chishiya’s brow arched. “Jealous?”

You laughed, soft and sweet. “No. She’s nice. I like her.” You paused, biting your lip. “She asked about you, though. About… us.”

That made him turn. “What did you say?”

You shrugged, picking at the hem of your top. “Just that I found you and Niragi after a game. Took you in. She seemed surprised you stuck around.”

Chishiya huffed a quiet laugh, leaning against the wall. “So am I.”

You frowned. “Why did you?”

He looked at you for a long moment, like he was trying to figure something out. “Why did you?”

You blinked. “What do you mean?”

“You could’ve left us. Let us die.” His head tilted. “But you didn’t.”

Your fingers twisted in the sheets. “I couldn’t.”

“Why?”

You hesitated. “Because… I don’t know. You looked like you needed someone.” Your voice softened. “And I wanted to be that someone.”

Chishiya’s lips parted, but no sound came out. He just stared at you, something flickering behind his eyes.

You shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. “Is that… weird?”

“No.” His voice was quiet. “Not weird.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. Just sat there, the silence stretching out.

Then, softly, you said, “I’m glad you’re here.”

For the first time, he had no idea what to say.

You sat up, crossing your legs on the soft white bed, the bikinis still scattered around you. Like candy wrappers. You tilted your head, watching him.

“What’s up?” you asked, soft and curious. No accusation. Just care.

Chishiya blinked, slowly dragging his gaze to you. “What do you mean?”

You patted the bed next to you. “Come sit.”

For a moment, he didn’t move. Just stared at you with that usual asshole expression of his. Then, with a soft sigh, he pushed off the wall and crossed the room, his steps quiet against the carpet. He sat at the edge of the bed, his back straight, hands resting loosely on his knees. He didn’t look at you.

You shifted closer, the warmth of your body brushing against his arm. “How have you been lately?” you asked, voice light and sincere. “Like… really.”

He hesitated, gaze flicking to you for a second before looking away again. His fingers tapped idly against his knee. “I’m fine.”

You frowned. “That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only one you’re getting.”

You sighed but didn’t push. Instead, you shifted closer, your knee knocking against his. The silence stretched, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Not really. Just… heavy. Like there was too much in the air that neither of you wanted to say.

After a while, you spoke again, voice soft. “You know… you don’t have to be fine.”

He glanced at you, brow furrowing slightly. “What?”

You shrugged. “It’s okay not to be okay. I mean… look at where we are.” You gestured at the room, at the world outside. “No one’s fine here. Not really.”

Chishiya’s lips twitched into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “And you are?”

You laughed quietly. “God, no.” You looked down at your hands, twisting your fingers together. “But I try. I try to be okay. For you. For Niragi.” Your voice softened. “For myself.”

“Why?” Chishiya asked.

You blinked. “Why what?”

“Why try?” He tilted his head, studying you. “Why care?”

You hesitated, biting your lip. “Because… I want to.”

“That’s stupid.”

“Mhm.”

The silence stretched again, but this time, it felt softer. Warmer. You reached out, your fingers brushing against his hand. You squeezed his fingers gently.

“You don’t have to tell me anything.” you said softly. “But I’m here. If you ever want to.”

He looked at your hand in his. Swallowed thickly. “I don’t.”

“I know.” You squeezed his hand again. “But if you ever do…”

He didn’t say anything. Just stared at your fingers curled around his own.

He didn’t know what he felt.

You smiled softly, leaning in a little closer, your knees brushing against his thigh. Chishiya stayed still, barely breathing, watching you.

“You know…” you started, voice quiet, almost hesitant. “You’re amazing.”

Chishiya blinked slowly. “What?”

You laughed softly. “I know I already told you, but I mean it. You’re so smart. You always know what to do. You… you stay calm when everything’s falling apart. You’re brave. Even if you don’t see it.”

His brow furrowed slightly. “I’m not brave.”

“Yes, you are.” You shifted closer, your warmth seeping into him. “Bravery isn’t about not being scared. It’s about doing what needs to be done, even when you are. And you always do.”

He scoffed quietly, eyes flicking away. “You don’t know me.”

You tilted your head. “Maybe not. But I want to.”

He swallowed thickly, trying to keep his expression neutral, but something inside him twisted painfully. Why were you saying these things? Why were you looking at him like that? Like he wasn’t a selfish, manipulative motherfucker who would throw anyone under the bus if it meant surviving.

He almost flinched when your fingers reached out, soft and gentle, pinching the tiny bit of skin under his chin. You giggled, and the sound was so sweet it made his chest ache.

“And this.” you said playfully, giving his chin a little shake. “This is adorable.”

He stared at you, frozen. No one had ever done that before. No one had ever dared to touch him like this—soft, teasing, affectionate. It felt wrong. It felt right. It made his skin crawl and his heart race.

You smiled up at him, eyes warm and full of something he didn’t deserve. “You’re amazing, Chishiya. I don’t care what you say.”

He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t move. All he could do was sit there, as you kept pouring sweetness over him like it wouldn’t rot him from the inside out. His hands curled into fists on his knees, nails biting into his palms.

Why were you doing this? What did you want from him? No one was kind for no reason. No one cared without expecting something in return.

But when he looked into your eyes, all he saw was honesty.

Amazing.

You’d called him amazing. Wasn’t that a joke? Wasn’t that the cruelest fucking joke he’d ever heard?

He could feel the warmth of you, even with the small space between you both. It soaked into him like poison, slow and sweet, curling around his heart and squeezing tight. He hated it. He hated how good it felt.

Chishiya never wanted things. Not really. He learned a long time ago that wanting led to disappointment. To pain. But right now, he wanted. Fuck, he wanted.

He could take you away from all of this. The Beach, the people, the blood—all of it. You didn’t belong here. You belonged somewhere soft, somewhere safe, somewhere that smelled like flowers and sunshine and all those things that made him sick to his stomach because they were never meant for people like him. But maybe they were meant for you. Maybe he could find a way to give that to you.

If you didn’t want to leave, he could make you. It wouldn’t be hard. You trusted him. You’d follow him anywhere, wouldn’t you? And if you didn’t… well. He could be even more of an asshole. Manipulation was second nature to him. He could twist things just right, plant the right seeds in your head, make you believe it was your idea to leave. That it was for the best.

But then there was Niragi.

That psycho wouldn’t let you go. If Chishiya took you and Niragi found out—and he would find out—he’d burn the whole fucking place to the ground trying to get you back. He’d tear through the Beach, through the games, through anything and anyone in his way. Niragi was unpredictable. Dangerous.

Even Chishiya wouldn’t be able to outthink him when it came to you.

Because Niragi was just as fucking obsessed.

And that made something dark curl in Chishiya’s stomach. He hated the way Niragi looked at you. Hated the way he hovered, like you were something fragile he needed to protect. As if he could ever be gentle enough to deserve you. As if he wouldn’t crush you the second he got his hands around you.

But Chishiya was no better. He knew that. He was selfish. He was cold. He didn’t care about people. He used them. And he was fully aware of that fact.

But you? You made him question things. You made him feel things he didn’t understand. Things he didn’t want to understand.

He could take you away. He could find a way. And if it hurt Niragi? If it made him burn? Well. That was just a bonus.

But then you turned to him, eyes bright and curious, and all those dark thoughts faded for just a moment.

“Chishiya?” you asked softly, tilting your head. “What are you thinking about?”

He blinked slowly, forcing his expression back into place. “Nothing important.”

But it was a lie.

Because the only thing on his mind was you.

You shifted closer, tucking your legs beneath you, your pink bikini strap slipping down your shoulder. You didn’t even fix it. Just sat there.

“You should go to bed.” Chishiya said quietly, his voice flat. Detached. He needed you to leave. He needed space to breathe.

You blinked, soft and slow, and tilted your head. “You should sleep too.” you said, just as soft. “You’ve been awake all day.”

He scoffed. “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”

You frowned. “Don’t say that.”

Chishiya closed his eyes, exhaling through his nose. He could feel your eyes on him, burning into his skin.

“Seriously.” you pressed, your hand coming to rest on his arm. “You’re tired. You need rest.” Your thumb brushed over his skin in slow circles, so soft, so gentle. “Baby, please.”

Baby.

He swallowed hard, his throat tight. “I’m fine.”

You didn’t look convinced, but you didn’t push. You just sat there, watching him, your hand still resting on his arm. “Okay.” you whispered. “Okay, Chishiya.”

You were dangerous. More dangerous than Niragi. More dangerous than the Beach. More dangerous than the games.

And he was completely powerless against you.

You stretched, arms lifting above your head, body soft and sleepy under the dim lights “I’ll get ready for bed, then.” you murmured, soft, like you were already half-asleep. You ran a hand through your hair, turning toward the bathroom. “Don’t stay up too late, okay?”

Chishiya didn’t answer.

You hesitated in the doorway, glancing back at him. Your eyes lingered for a second—maybe two—and then you smiled. That soft, gentle little smile that had dug its way under his skin, nestled somewhere deep and painful. Then you disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of running water filling the silence you left behind.

Chishiya sat there for a moment. Still. Silent. Listening to the soft sounds of you moving around, humming some quiet tune under your breath. His hands curled into fists.

He needed to get out of there.

He stood quietly, moving through the room without a sound. His footsteps barely whispered against the floor as he slipped out the door, the soft click of the lock behind him the only proof he’d ever been there at all.

The hallway was quiet, the party downstairs a distant thrum in the walls. The Beach was never truly silent. Even now, late into the night, there was life somewhere. People drinking, laughing, fucking, dying. It never stopped.

Chishiya exhaled slowly. Then he turned.

Kuina was leaning against the wall.

She raised her brows, arms folded across her chest. “Thought you might sneak off.”

Chishiya said nothing, sliding his hands into his pockets.

She pushed off the wall, falling into step beside him as he started down the hallway.“What’s the deal with her?”

He didn’t answer.

“Come on, Chishiya.” She sighed, stepping ahead to watch his face. “You disappear for a month and come back with Niragi and some… sweet little thing in pink? That’s not like you.”

Still, he stayed silent.

Kuina huffed. “You’re really not gonna tell me?”

Chishiya’s footsteps slowed. His head turned, eyes cold and empty when they met hers.

“No.”

And he walked away.

~

BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG.

You startled, sitting up so fast the sheets tangled around your legs. The room was dark, the heavy curtains drawn tight over the window, but the sound was unmistakable. Pounding against the door.

Your head felt heavy. Slow. Everything moved in syrup, your body sluggish and soft with sleep. You rubbed your eyes, blinking.

BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG.

You stumbled out of bed, the floor cold against your bare feet as you walked across the room. The banging kept going. Louder. More impatient. You fumbled with the lock, hands clumsy and slow, and pulled the door open.

Niragi stood there.

His eyes raked over you. Bare legs. Sleep-rumpled hair. Face soft and dazed, blinking up at him with those stupidly innocent eyes. You looked like a dream. Like something unreal. It made his stomach twist, sharp and ugly, and he shoved past you into the room without a word.

You blinked after him, confused. Still half-asleep, trying to make sense of the situation. “Niragi…?”

He didn’t answer. Just paced across the room, one hand shoved deep in his pocket. The gun was in the other. He never went anywhere without it.

You stood in the doorway, watching him. “Is everything okay?”

He scoffed. Loud. Sharp. “Yeah. Peachy.”

You frowned, slow and soft, trying to process. Your brain felt foggy. Heavy. “Then… why are you here?”

Niragi’s jaw clenched. He turned toward the window, yanking the curtains open. Morning light poured into the room, cutting across the floor. The sky was pale blue, the sun just starting to rise.

You winced, squinting against the brightness. “Niragi…”

“What?” he snapped, not looking at you.

You flinched. He heard it. Felt it. His hands curled into fists.

You were so fucking soft. Always soft. Even now, half-asleep and confused, you were soft. Sweet. Gentle.

It made him feel sick.

You closed the door and walked toward him, slow and clumsy. “Did you… need something?”

Niragi scoffed again, louder this time. “What? Can’t a guy visit his favorite little dumbass?” He shot you a grin, mean. “Or do you only like it when Chishiya does it?”

You blinked. Slow. Confused. “What?”

He rolled his eyes, turning back to the window. “Forget it.”

You stood there for a moment, watching him as he sat down in the huge windowsill. Trying to understand. Then, quietly, you moved to his side. You sat down in the windowsill next to him, tucking your legs under you.

Niragi didn’t move.

The two of you sat in silence. The morning light spilled across the room, warm and soft, dust dancing in the air. You looked out over the Beach, watching the sun climb higher.

Niragi’s fingers tapped against his knee. He could feel you next to him. Small. Warm. Close. Too close.

His mind raced. The kiss. Your hands on him. The softness of your lips. The warmth of your touch. He’d felt it all night. Could still feel it. Haunting him. Driving him fucking crazy.

He wanted to ask. Wanted to demand what the fuck that had been. Why you’d done it. Why you weren’t running. Why you weren’t scared.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he sat there. Silent. Watching the sun rise. Being a pussy. And you sat with him. The sunlight poured through the window, soft and golden, warming your bare legs where they curled beneath you on the windowsill. Niragi just sat there, staring out at the Beach, jaw tight, fingers drumming against his knee.

You glanced at him. His face was blank, but you knew better. You could feel it—that barely leashed violence simmering just beneath the surface, coiled tight in his shoulders, in his eyes.

Softly, carefully, you bent down and reached into the pocket of your little pink bag what was on the floor. The familiar glass bottle was cool against your fingers. You held it out to him.

“Do you want some lavender oil?”

He looked at you. “What?”

You blinked. “Lavender oil.” you repeated, holding up the bottle. “You know.”

Niragi stared at you. Then he barked out a laugh. “You think I’m stressed, babydoll?”

You frowned. “I just thought—”

“Don’t think.” He sneered, looking away. “It doesn’t suit you.”

You shrank back, biting your lip. The bottle trembled in your hands, the little dropper inside clinking against the glass. Niragi watched it. Watched you. His lip curled.

Then he saw the way your fingers curled around the bottle. The softness of your hands. The gentle slope of your throat as you swallowed. Your mouth—fuck, your mouth. The memory of your lips on his crashed over him. He clenched his fists so tight his nails bit into his palms.

“Why?” His voice came out low, rough. “Why did you kiss me?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“The kiss.” His teeth ground together. “Why did you do it?”

You stared at him for a long moment, your face soft. Then you said quietly, “Because I wanted to.” You hesitated. “And because you needed it.”

Niragi went still. For a moment, he just stared at you. Then he laughed—dark and bitter, the sound scraping down your spine like rusted metal.

“God, you’re fucking stupid.” He shook his head, grinning wide. “You think I needed it?” He leaned closer, the heat of him prickling against your skin. “I don’t need shit.”

You tilted your head. “Then why did you kiss me back?”

The grin slipped from his face.

He scoffed, leaning back like the question was too ridiculous to even consider. “Please. You threw yourself at me. What was I supposed to do, say no?”

You didn’t flinch. Didn’t shrink away. You just looked at him—soft and calm and so fucking steady. “You kissed me back because you wanted to.”

His breath caught.

“And because you needed it.”

His fists clenched. His jaw tightened. He wanted to hurt you. Wanted to grab you, shake you, scream in your face until you stopped looking at him like that. Like you could see straight through him. Like you understood.

But he didn’t.

He just sat there, shaking with rage. And you sat beside him. Silent. Gentle. Warm.

It made him want to tear you apart. He wouldn’t look at you. He stared out the window, past the Beach, past the party, past everything. His eyes were dark, burning. His whole body looked ready to snap.

You watched him quietly. Studied him. The curve of his sneer. The tension in his muscles. The way his fingers twitched, restless and angry, like they needed something to hold onto—or destroy.

“You’re scared.” you said softly.

“The fuck did you just say?”

“You’re scared.” you repeated. “You pretend you’re not, but you are.”

His head snapped toward you, eyes narrowing. “You don’t know shit about me.”

“Maybe not.” You tilted your head. “But I know what fear looks like.”

He laughed. “Oh yeah? What else do you know, baby?”

You hesitated. Then you said quietly, “You’re angry.”

“No shit.”

“No.” you said. “You’re always angry. It’s not just a feeling. It’s part of you now. It burns in you. Every second. Even when you’re quiet. Even when you’re still. It never stops.”

His face faltered.

“You push people away.” you continued, voice soft. “You hurt them. Because it’s easier. Easier to make them hate you than to let them get close. Easier to destroy things than to admit you care.” You paused. “Because caring hurts, doesn’t it?”

“Shut the fuck up.” His voice was low, dangerous.

“You don’t trust anyone.” You shifted closer, your knees brushing against his. “Because the second you do, they’ll leave. Or betray you. Or die. You’ve convinced yourself that the only way to survive is to be alone.” You looked down at your hands. “But you don’t want to be alone.”

His breath hitched.

“You act like you don’t care about anything. But that’s a lie.” You looked up, meeting his gaze. “You care. So much that it eats you alive.” You hesitated. “That’s why you kissed me.”

His jaw tightened. “I kissed you because I wanted to.”

“I know.” You smiled softly. “But that’s not the only reason.”

His fists clenched.

“You’re desperate.” you whispered. “For something. For anything to hold onto. Even if it hurts. Even if it burns. Even if it destroys you.” You reached out, fingers brushing against his knuckles. “You’re drowning. And you don’t even realize it.”

“Shut. The fuck. Up.” His voice trembled.

“You hate yourself.” The words hung heavy in the air. “You hate yourself so much you can’t breathe. And the worst part?” You swallowed. “You think you deserve it.”

He grabbed the little bottle of lavender oil from your hands. You barely had time to blink before he hurled it across the room.

It shattered against the wall, glass and oil raining down.

The room went quiet.

Niragi stood, his breath ragged, hands shaking. He didn’t look at you. He couldn’t.

Without a word, he turned and walked out.

You sat there, staring at the broken glass. The lavender oil seeped into the carpet, its scent soft and sweet and overwhelming.

You didn’t move. You didn’t speak.

You just sat there.

Because you knew.

You’d been right.

❤︎︎ @lizntstoptalking @cherryheairt @fiction-fantasy-folks @monkey4lifer @psychicyouthfox @so-dramatic1 @mypsychoticlove @unhinged-sorcerer @rattymess @mocchii-writes @adanfore @scarlet703 @fluentgoddess @maxinehufflepuffprincess @onyxmango @bluerthanvelvet444 @risingofjupiter @enhasrii @potato-vagina @cherryyserenade @l5byrinth @soaplickerrr @sillyenemyarcade @miellette @sk1ndx0

[avelera]

I feel like I don't have the spoons for this, nor the understanding of real-life PTSD enough to explore it, but I feel like it's worth examining Jayce's arc for signs of PTSD. Much has been made of the canonical mental illnesses and PTSD of characters like Jinx, and I've mentioned that I think Jayce might have generalized clinical anxiety, but I think it's worth looking at how much of his behavior might be PTSD related even before he goes to the Anomaly future.

Some possible places I'd look:

Jayce has been getting fed paranoia by Marcus and by the tension that is being deliberately ratcheted up by Silco and Jinx. Yes, he says awful, bigoted things to Viktor on the bridge, but it is worth pointing out that he's not saying this in a vacuum, there are people in proximity to him deliberately stoking his paranoia and that of the city for their own ends, literally Marcus is gaslighting him actively by telling him the Firelights are responsible and the best way to keep people safe is shut down the bridge.

The fight in the Shimmer Factory gets more wild to me every time I watch. Jayce should not be there for so many reasons but one of them is Jayce is not a fighter. I think his video game counterpart sort of obscures this, but unlike Vi who has spent her whole life fighting AND in prison for years, Jayce has never, ever wielded that hammer before. He didn't even have it until the day before! And suddenly he's up against the Shimmer-infused berserkers who are some of the toughest fighters in the whole show. He almost gets his head cut off, if not for features he built into the hammer like weightlessness and the shield, he'd be dead, and then he makes what I call the, "Jayce is Making Bad Decisions" Face (I need to make a gifset of this face btw, he makes it a couple times, also while resurrecting Viktor).

Ok I might make fun of the Jayce is Making Bad Decisions face, BUT on a serious note, it's clear the Fortiche animators are doing a superb job showing someone who has gone into "Adrenaline Mode". REAL fighters do not want adrenaline. Adrenaline fucks up your reaction times and makes you shaky and turns off your higher brain functions. I've been in a fight when fear adrenaline kicks in and you just start wildly swinging to get people away from you and that is exactly what happened when Jayce's face got scrunched up and he started shooting wildly, he just wanted to stop the threat because he's never fought before, unlike Vi. And then he kills a kid and the triumph of his first fight against an uncomplicated enemy just dies and btw, never returns except in that moment fighting more Shimmer berserkers and Renni but those are clear self defense and there's no triumph in it.

BRO gets HIT BY A ROCKET, has a pure panic response leaving living people who need his help in the chamber to save Viktor, and he doesn't go back as far as we know.

Ok so the things that me, as not an expert would be curious to note as possible PTSD responses would be:

Jayce not leaving the lab after the attack except 1) to go to the funeral (where he's attacked AGAIN) 2) to comfort Caitlyn after Mel basically tells him to, 3) to make weapons for Caitlyn's team specifically to keep a small group of people safe, not arm an entire army. Besides that, it looks like he spends all his time holed up in the lab, even after Viktor is gone, because that's his safe space and I think I read once that PTSD has a way of shrinking your world down to just the people and places you trust.

Dragging that hammer around with him in the Anomaly future. Look, Jayce is a city boy, he has no survival instincts, but it wasn't just a bad idea because it broke his leg, it was actively detrimental to his chances of survival because lugging an anvil around drained him of water and calories. Bro had a lot less chance of survival with it, but he thought he was surrounded by zombies (he wasn't, they're all dead and they're all controlled by Viktor, we learn he was never in danger, though I don't blame him for that). But that could also be a PTSD response, his actual emotional support hammer.

Clamming up and not talking to Mel about what happened because she's not in his circle of trust anymore, it's more or less shrunk down to just Viktor (once he can save him) and Cait, maybe.

Ok as usual this got longer than I intended by just... some things that are in my mind right now.

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

hi - do you have any fics with scenes like the one in "but the world won't stop turning" where derek time travels and meets his mom? in this one she knows it him by scent (in her time he's 7-ish) and they just have lunch and talk bit. it's very bittersweet. i was hoping there might be more like it?

Hi anon. Let's see.

But The World Won't Stop Turning by thepsychicclam

(1/1 I 19,906 I Explicit I Sterek)

Derek glances at Stiles, who is watching him with a curious expression.

“Oh shit,” Stiles exclaims as comprehension dawns on him. “Everything makes sense now. Derek, I know what the witch did, she cursed you with – “

But before Stiles is able to finish his sentence, everything fades away and Derek is surrounded by darkness.

***

A Chance Worth Taking by ash_mcj

(1/1 I 1,885 I General i Sterek)

When Derek woke up, he thought he was in a dream.

There were posters littering the familiar forest green walls that he hadn’t seen in years—Star Trek, Black Eyed Peas, even a Destiny’s Child one he had completely forgotten was on the back of his bedroom door that he’d stolen from Laura’s wall when she’d left for college. A burgundy and white letterman jacket was slung over his desk chair, bold letters spelling his surname and his basketball number across the back with Beacon Hills Cyclones Basketball on the lower half.

This wasn’t possible—this room had burned to ash years ago, and his nightmares almost never featured such simple scenes as this one. There were no foreboding feelings, no sharp smell of smoke, no guilt-inducing screams. 

And just as he was about to dig his clawed hand into his thigh in an attempt to wake himself from this maybe-dream, he remembered. ___

[or: with the help of some magic, Derek and Stiles go back in time—giving them the opportunity to save not only their future pack, but also the first one Derek lost]

Days Like These. by Missy_Moo

(6/23 I 8,801 I General I Sterek)

Derek and Stiles mated right after Stiles finished highschool, they had been trying for a baby ever since. Unfortunatly nature was against them and everything they tried had failed. Until their third and final round of IVF, they were pregnant! Deaten finds the spell to send Derek back to stop the fire on the very same day that they find oout about their pup. Now its Dereks choice, his new family or his old one.

-

Or where Derek goes back in time stops the fire, forgets about Stiles and has to find his mate all over again. While Stiles pouts his way through a virgin mary style pregnancy.

Blood of my Veins, Bone of my Body by DaoOfGay

(4/? I 10,679 I Explicit I Sterek)

Derek Hale was a stupid and very proud teen. He always regretted the words he told the one that was his Soulmate... That day was the day he threw away his chance at happiness while pushing someone down a path of no return.

He regretted it so much...

Now, at such old age, he lived a lonely life. His friends, family, and others he loved- he pushed them away slowly, and he didn't even notice it. So, as he died alone, all he wanted was to go back...

"-rek, tell me this freak is lying and that you two aren't Soulmates-"

He hadn't even come to his senses- everything was so weird, but when he heard those words, his entire being screamed and he opened his mouth to say: "Of course we're Soulmates-"

There was only silence in the school cafeteria.

Back to the Beginning by erraticallyinspired

(7/? I 18,532 I Teen I Sterek)

"The last thing he can remember is turning his back to Jennifer-Julia. It was stupid, of course, because she was the Darach and knew perfectly well how to handle werewolves. [...] He has to be dead."

Jennifer knocks Derek out in the elevator, but he doesn't wake up there.

A Simple Wish by monkeyihihji

(5/5 I 23,022 I Teen I Sterek)

In less than seven days, his girlfriend had randomly broken up with him and kicked him out. He was forced to move back home to a family that seemed to not really want him. His bed was too small. And his former childhood best friend--who he just figured out he was in love with--was with someone else. Happy Birthday, Derek. It was a great week, really. The candle flickers and seems to mock him. He takes a deep breath and blows.

"I wish I could go back and fix this whole mess."

Time To Say Goodbye by matildajones

(1/1 I 34,323 I Teen I Sterek)

Derek finds an older version of himself at his front door, along with Stiles, a boy from the future.

[mrsparrasblog]

You're losing me pt.2

pt. 1 pt.3

TW: mention of rape, unprotected sex, drinking, blood, violence, angst

The liquor on his tongue didn’t even burn anymore; too much was already in his system, trying to wash down the events of this day. You were the love of his life, the woman he wanted to marry, even though he didn’t know how it would be legal for you to marry all of them. And now, he lost you. The worst part? He can't even remember how it happened. He felt so disgusted in himself in so many ways—disgusted for breaking your heart. God, your look, how you tried to keep your tears in check, broke him. And then his whole body felt disgusted; it felt like a layer of dirt he couldn’t wash away. He scrubbed and scrubbed, but it didn’t go away; the shame still lingered. It felt like someone had taken something from him, but it was his own fault. He must have said yes and bought those drinks. It was his own fault, he told himself over and over again. Normally, he would talk about this kind of stuff with you; you always knew what to say. But you hated him.

"‚‘nother on’," he said to the barkeeper. This was probably his sixth. Johnny knew how he could handle alcohol; he was never that pissed before to not remember a thing. And there she was, the medic, sitting down next to him.

"Hey, Johnny," she smiled brightly, like she didn’t have any worry in her life.

"I ken a dinnae whit yesterday happened bit tis ne'er aff tae happen again."

"Come on, you enjoyed it yesterday."

"I dinnae remember yesterday."

"What a shame."

He stood up, throwing some pounds on the table, wanting to leave, but she stopped him. "Come on, Johnny. I'll help you forget, make you feel at peace again."

"No."

"Then please, let me invite you for a drink as an apology," she smiled sweetly, pushing the drink towards me. Wait, how had she a drink prepared if she sat only for a minute next to me?

"No."

"Please, a drink won't kill you."

"I said no."

"Just one sip, Johnny, and I'll make you feel good how she never could."

"How come ye're sae persistent fur me tae dram this drink?"

"You're silly, Johnny. I'm just being nice," she looked panicked - weird.

While many people thought of him as someone who is just a silly guy who isn’t able to think properly, you told him all over again that he was so smart, smarter than all of them, if someone would just give him the chance to show. And right now, his brain implanted a sick thought on him. "Dinnae tell me ye put something in mah drink."

Her eyes widened. "Of course not," she mumbled.

"Don't lie to me," his hand immediately went to her throat , choking the truth out of her.

"Knockout drugs," she whispered. She was fighting for air as I let her go; the men in the pub already stood up trying to save the poor woman from getting abused by a man.

"You raped me." His shock hit deep; he always thought something like that wouldn’t happen to him. He was strong and able to protect himself. He was the guy who killed people, the youngest man in the SAS, the guy who beat up an officer because he touched a civi. But now, he was the victim.

"Have fun proving it. No one will believe that a tiny girl like me raped the big bad soldier," she laughed, and screamed for help. "Help, this man doesn’t take no for an answer," He was kicked out of the pub; his face was bloody from all the beating.

All he wanted was to reach you, ask your advice, be in the comfort of your arms, telling him all over again how he is a good man, how he is worth everything and not a dirty soldier. But you didn’t pick up; he came to the realization quickly; that no one would believe him.

**Soap:** Please tell me we used a condom.

**Medic:** ;)

Fuck.

————————————————————————————————-

4 am and you still couldn’t sleep; your head was full of thoughts. Why were you not good enough? Why did he do it? So, you made a thing your friends would kill you for. Calling John, you weren’t sure if he would pick up, but he did.

"What's wrong, love?" Source of habit, he thought.

"Why did you do this, John?" you sobbed.

"I didn't mean for it to happen; it was an accident."

"Then why didn't you say sorry?"

"Love."

"Don't fucking call me love. You cheated on me, and you didn't say sorry. You didn't run after me, you didn't apologize," your sobs broke his heart.

"I'm sorry; it was an accident."

"An accident is making a typo, not sticking your dick in a whore."

"I—"

"I hate you, John. I hate you so much," and you hung up. This wasn’t what you expected. Why doesn’t he feel guilty? Why are you not good enough? Why didn’t Simon say something? Why didn’t Kyle come here? Of course, you broke up, but why don’t they care?

If you only knew how Kyle was, blood-covered in the hospital, too many rookies in his way. How Simon was trying desperately to find Soap to see he didn't drink himself to death, and then he would come to you, he told him self all over again. And how the captain didn't leave his office, not even for food.

And how Soap went into John's office, trying to explain to him the truth, only to see a disarranged office, hands covered in blood after he tried to pick up the liquor he smashed at his wall. He never saw his captain so vulnerable, and if Soap didn’t know better, he would have sworn he saw tears.

"Captain, I—"

"You did already enough, MacTavish. Let me have at least one day to mourn over the loss of the love of my fucking life."

"Captain—"

"LEAVE," and he did, he crawled into his bed, knowing he lost everything in a day, the love of his life, his best friend Kyle, his captain, his pride, and safety, and not even Ghost was there.

[tealvenetianmask]

Moxxie and His Weapons Grade Daddy Issues (Part 1)

I keep saying it, and now I'm going to explain what I mean. It's worse than it seems. Really. Blitz and Stolas get most of the attention for being our favorite disaster men™, but Moxxie's underlying issues are just as bad. And eventually shit is going to hit the fan.

Disclaimer: I love Moxxie and M&M, and Moxxie and Blitz as friends. I'm about to shit on how Moxxie is overly dependent on these relationships. And this is not a "they should ditch him" situation. It's more- the guy needs to understand his own worth and do some serious growing.

Prologue: Crimson is the worst, obviously.

He taught Moxxie two main lessons.

You have to be stereotypically masculine. Everything it entails. Tough, good at violence, straight. That's the only way to have value. Oh, and the reason this all doesn't come naturally to you is because you're a weakling.

2. Be loyal or be killed. Fucking literally.

Moxxie found a new life, but the lessons from his dad stuck with him.

He didn't internalize EVERYTHING his dad taught him about masculinity. He's open about being bi, and about liking musicals and baking and generally being a sweet guy. I think it's been really helpful for Millie to show time and time again that she loves him this way.

BUT I think his self-acceptance has a side that masks his serious lack of confidence. Is it great that Millie can be "the strong one" in the relationship and they can defy gender stereotypes? Yes. It's ALSO really worrying that he doesn't believe he's strong himself- he deserves to feel strong too, and not as a "tough guy-" as himself.

We see Millie and Blitz save Moxxie a bunch, and the times when he's given a chance to prove himself (see Murder Family, The Harvest Moon Festival, and Unhappy Campers), the guy completely freaks out. I'm not using a screenshot from the fucking penguin short (because I'm still salty) but there's even a moment in there where Moxxie has the chance to take the kill shot on the seal, and even though he DOES pull it off, he looks really scared beforehand . . .

Moxxie WANTS to prove that he's strong and competent, but the issue is so weighty for him that the moment he tries, his brain goes haywire. Over and over again.

2. He got himself out from under Crimson's thumb, and even learned to stand up the guy a bit. I think it's really telling that the moment he first trusted Blitz to lead him was when Blitz told him he had to get out of jail for his daughter.

Moxxie has learned that he wants something different from what he grew up with. It's also worth noting that Moxxie feels comfortable arguing with Blitz, criticizing him, and talking back, in a way couldn't have gotten away with when following Crimson.

And the "strong" woman he married, who protects him? She's a total sweetheart, and they have fun together all the time. She doesn't tell him what to do. She supports him pretty much unconditionally, as we see in Unhappy Campers.

BUT here's the problem. Moxxie's thinking is still kind of authoritarian, in that he seems most comfortable when someone else is in charge.

He calls Blitz "Sir." And yeah, it's sort of iconic at this point. It was pretty much the only thing he called Blitz, until--

I think that Moxxie really liked the idea of Blitz asking him to use his name. He wants to be on even ground and have a real friendship. But he DOES keep saying "Sir." Not exclusively anymore (people make a big deal of him saying "Blitz" in the van in Mastermind), and this isn't a full tally, but...

It's pretty obvious who else was Sir . . .

Moxxie was raised to follow, under threat of death. I think it makes sense that someone with that experience would have kind of contradictory feelings toward their boss...

Moxxie WANTS to challenge authority. He WANTS to offer input on missions. He WANTS Blitz to see him as a friend and an equal, but at the same time, whenever Blitz is unable to lead. Well.

A shallow reading of any Moxxie-centric episode has Moxxie fixing his problems. I've seen multiple reaction youtubers getting confused when he still struggles in subsequent episodes- didn't he just get over that? But the realizations he comes to really are baby steps. He practices his skills for building independence and confidence but doesn't quite get there . . . he's saved either physically or emotionally by Millie or Blitz (even Loona in Ghostfuckers, though that's more of a joke). And then the underlying problems remain.

I want to get deeper into the M&M dynamic and what this all might mean for the pregnancy plotline and their relationship going forward in another post. But for now, I guess I'll conclude by saying that there's some problem avoidance happening, which gives fans a false sense of security, and Moxxie's mental health situation might get worse before it can truly get better.

Update: Part 2 is here.

[regalevansworth]

The butterfly effect🦋

Pairing : Chris Hemsworth x male reader

Summery : Elated and thrilled to be able to start off your career in the fashion world, your first assignment is to help create costumes for superheroes. But this elation brings a sudden change in your life's trajectory when a chance encounter with none other than the Hollywood sensation-slash-hunk Chris Hemsworth transpires.

Warnings/tags : Explicit, SMUT 18+, resolved sexual tension, oral sex, anal sex, age difference (you're in your early 20's and Chris in his actual age), size difference, biting, Choking, dirty talking, manhandling, strength kink, body worshipping, Mature themes.

Word count : 6.3k+

A/N : Serving you, my first Chris Hemsworth fic. Despite being so underrated, CH fandom will live. I mean....who doesn't love our good ol’ Hemsy, right? So, here it is- a hot and spicey Chris Hemsworth smutty fic. I profusely apologize for all my mistakes and errors . Nevertheless, I enjoyed writing it and hope you enjoy reading it as well. And fyi, I envisioned Chris single in this fic. But it doesn't matter so you can pretend otherwise. Other than that, it's a legitimately sexy time. Likes, comments and reblogs are welcomed. Enjoy <33

Never in a million years would you have thought of getting an oppprtunity like this. For as long as you can remember, fashion has always been a subject of fascination to you. The puzzle of fabric, needle and thread intrigued you so much so that you decided, at a very young age, that you'd be persuing fashion as a career. Your parents held no grudges on your choice of profession. They encouraged you even.

So here you are today, after 4 years of continuous study with utmost diligence and dedication, bagging your first ever job as the wardrobe supervisor of costume department in a 250Million budget movie. Which, also apparently, happens to be a Marvel Studios movie. The next THOR movie. Hence, to your inner superhero geek, it's a cherry on top.

Your interview with the head Costume designer and other production managers was pretty jarring as they encountered you with several complicated aspects of being a wardrobe supervisor. But you proved your worth with practiced ease although feeling a bit self-conscious of having no prior experience. All in all, your wit and knowledge saved the day. And you could tell from the look on their faces that they were pleased with your talent at such young age. But, today comes your first day at work.

Your list of to-do's for Day #1 is surprisingly not as overloaded as you expected. It just consists of a meeting with the whole crew and the director. It goes considerably fine, save for the revelation part where they delegate you the responsibility of supervising Chris Hemsworsth's entire costume fitting process. Thus, you get extra pressure of work on your shoulder. Nevermind that you are not nearly ready to face any of the stars of the movie and it's surely getting on your nerves.

Having been already moved to Australia, the production of the movie is continuing on full swing. It's the 4th day that the crew finally decides to start work on the costumes of the lead characters. As the supervisor of Chris Hemsworth's costume preparation, you, inevitably, have to accompany the rest of the crew (which is funnily of 3 members) to his trailer.

On the way to your destination, you feel the dread of meeting someone like Chris Hemsworth slowly looming upon you. It's no surprise to you that being gay you've always been attracted to particular alpha male like him. Sure, you had a small crush on him like the vast majority of world population, maybe you still do, but it's absolutely pointless, Isn't it? There's no way in hell he's going to notice much less give his undivided attention to some random guy like you. And he's straight.

Mind occupied with these gratuitous thoughts, you don't notice when the group suddenly comes to a halt in front of a wooden door, nameplate shining with the letters C-H-R-I-S H-E-M-S-W-O-R-T-H. You feel sweat slowly pooling at your neck and collarbone. You pull out your handkerchief to dab at the places and hear one of the crew member saying, “Are you okay, Y/N?” You look up at her and try to give your most calm smile, “Yeah, I'm okay”. She nods and waits with the rest of the crews for the knocked door to open.

God! Why am I feeling so nervous? It's nothing. I'm just going for a purely professional meeting with Chris Hemsworth. Big, handsome, hunk of muscles Chris Hemsworth. Nothing else. It's not like I'm gonna rip his shirt off and and worship him on my knees and then bend over for him at the first opportunity. No. I'm fine and I got this.

Realizing how ridiculous you sound, you pull yourself out of your stupid inner rambling and straighten your posture. When the door opens, you take one last deep breath and follow your teammates into the suit. The trailer finely decorated —as a star's trailer should be— but right now you can't focus on anything else but the man in front of you.

Chris Hemsworth stands before all of you in his all broad muscular glory. From the state of his physical appearance you can guess that he has just finished working-out and didn't take a shower after. Maybe he didn't have the time. However, his short dark blonde hair is disheveled and sweat stains forming all over the tight tank top he's wearing. You can see the outline of his chiseled abs through his drenched shirt. Inhumanly broad chest and fine crafted pecs are heaving in time of his heavy breaths. “Good lord” you mumble breathily at the sight of his arms and biceps that are the size of your entire head. Angry veins popping up from all over his biceps to forearms and you just wonder for a moment, how it'd be like to trace them with your tongue.

You immediately shake yourself off before your mind leaps up to dangerous territory and look over at the head designer who's now having a quick chat with Chris Hemsworth. Then, suddenly he turns his head towards you and beckons you closer. You visibly startle but head over to them nonetheless. “And this is Mr. (Y/N) (S/N). He'll be overlooking your entire costume fitting process” Your cheeks immediately flushes at the mention of your name and you try to make out if this whole ‘making acquaintance’ part is necessary as there won't be any business other than professional.

But, when you look up at Hemsworth you see his blue eyes already resting upon you. So blue you sigh inwardly as he steps closer to you and offers a hand, “Hello, mate”. His voice is so deep and resonant that you feel yourself swooning just from that. Clearing your throat, you take his offered hand to shake it and get instantly captivated by how strong and callused they feel against your soft palm. “H-Hello” you somehow croak out, feeling your cheeks and ear burn to the root. But looking up at him, you, for the first time get transfixed by just how handsome he looks up-close. His Bearded chin and jaw, strong-thick neck, and perfectly curved nose signify his classic but exceptional Australian handsomeness.

His eyes are a whole different story, that are now gazing heavily at you. You can feel the heat behind those deep sea blue eyes as an imperceptive wave of emotion flashes over them. There's a sudden fluttering in your stomache and the sensation is so new that the hairs on your neck stand at alert on their own accord as if detecting a danger.

However, the unknown spell is immediately broken when someone from behind Chris clears their throat and beckons the group to start the meeting. As the chatting progresses you start taking notes from each side of their own opinions and giving your own. But every now and then, you catch Chris staring at you from the corner of your eye. But when you try to look back, he turns his head immediately as if he's caught doing something wrong. I must be seeing things you think as you keep your track with the meeting and wonder just why Chris Hemsworth would be giving you the occasional meaningful glances. That's just too stupid and absurd.

By the time the meeting ends, it's already been 1 hour. After calling it a day, your team start to slowly file out of the room. Not wanting to be the last one to leave, you jump up to your feet in a haste and follow the others out of the room. You covertly take a glance over your shoulder to see that Chris is now talking —more like listening— to the head designer. But then his gaze shifts and locks with you for a moment causing you to jump in surprise and turn around instantly. You hurriedly make your way out without managing to trip over.

✯———————✯

It's exactly 6:30 a.m. when Chris' alarm goes off. Groaning sleepily, he shuts off the alarm and sits up. After waking up his first thing to do is to check the day's schedule. Today's list only includes a lot of workout and some interviews then script discussion with Taika and other cast members. Throwing the sheets off of himself, he climbs out of the bed and quickly grabs his towel to take a shower. Turning on the spray, he proceeds to rinse and clean himself.

As he does so, he can't help but shift his mind off to yesterday's events. He'd been notified that the costume team would be on his trailer to discuss some things. Which turned out to be total useless as the team was talented enough to handle things on their own. But he appreciated their concern of his involvement all the same.

But there is one thing from yesterday's occuring that possessed all of his rational thinkings. Well, not a thing but a person. A very beautiful and lovely person at that. (Y/N) (S/N). Yes, that was his name. (Y/N).

The man —more like a boy, he looked pretty young— had a very gorgeous appearance. With his beautiful (s/c) complexion, wavy (h/c) hair, a set of wide (e/c) eyes that he found himself lost in the moment he gazed on them, petal like lips that he knows for a fact that they would feel as soft as they looked. He also had an aristocratic body type. Very slender but sinuous and quite short at height. The sage green cardigan of his attire accentuated his beauty all the more.

Chris is sure he felt quite captivated by the young man and the desire he felt was also quite strong. He didn't feel such attraction towards someone for a very long time and he longs to feel that body beneath him, to hear all the sound he can elicit from him, to feel his heat engulfing him whole.

Not wanting to get hard, Chris quickly pulls himself out of his thoughts and shuts off the shower. Then quickly toweling himself off he wraps the towel around his hips and goes to his suit to get ready for the day.

As expected, the day turns out to be quite uneventful but the meeting with the stars was pretty fun. After excusing himself, Chris makes his way towards his room but stops down shortly when a familiar voice calls out from behind “Mr. Hemsworth!”. Turning around, he catches the sight of the object of his sudden obsession making his way towards him. The young man is looking more delectable today. A cream colored hoodie accompanied with jeans making his appearance just as lovely. He's also wearing rounded glasses today which makes him look rather endearing as they highlighted his doe-like eyes and made them appear even bigger.

You stop Infront of him with a clipboard in your hand, allowing him to take in the scent of your cologne —fresh, and mouth watering sweet. He feels desire pooling in his stomache just being near you again. Having remembered you called him out for some reason, he smiles kindly, “Yes?”. His smile broadens when he sees a high blush rising on your cheeks and going down your neck to disappear under the collar of your hoodie, fully aware of the affect he has on you. You clear your throat and look down on the clipboard, “umm...ahem.....I’m just....here to inform you that we'll be taking measurement of your...umm...body...for your costumes so the team will be in your room in about an hour”. The full time you spoke, your gaze were anywhere but on him.

On the other hand, Chris was mentally devouring you the entire time of your forced rambling and without thinking, he blurts out, “will you be there?” He could've kicked himself for asking you that but the dumbstruck look on your lovely scarlet face, lips parted, eyed widened makes it million times worth it. But he immediately straightens up to make the conversation look professional. You peer up at him from beneath your lashes— a sight Chris is committing to memory— and nod, whispering, “Yes, I'll be there. It's under my supervision”. “Cool. I'll see you there, mate” comes Chris's jovial reply and because he can't help it and he really wants to touch you somehow, he grasps the exposed skin of your neck, squeezing it a bit.

Hand lingering there for a moment, He hesitantly retracts it but the softness of your skin on his rough palm left him craving for more. Images of him trailing kisses down your neck and leaving marks on the smooth expanse flashes through his mind and before he loses his composure, he flashes a wide smile and abruptly turns on his heels before striding away.

You stand there, shaking, eyes wide like saucers. The unexpected touch having made your rational thinkings go hayware. Head spinning thousand miles per second from the feel of his solid grip on your neck. Goosebumps still fresh on your entire body as you feel pulse throbbing on the side of your neck where moments ago his veiny hand rested.

How it'd feel to have those hands roaming all over your smaller frame? Holding you down as he pounds you onto the mattress? He could easily fit both of his huge palms around your hips

You shiver at the thoughts and immediately snap out of your reverie. Still blushing like a lovestruck teenager, you make your way towards the costume department's office, the interaction still fresh on your mind. Chris Hemsworth smiling at you, touching you. The same fluttering sensation returns like a thousand butterflies roaming around your belly. You shake your head again,. He isn't into you, you moron! He's just being friendly. Yes, he's just being his usual cheery self. Stop thinking otherwise. And Chris Hemsworth isn't gay for god's sake!! You mentally chide yourself, slapping at the back of your head once and twice.

It isn't untill one hour passes that you prepare for the impending visit to Chris Hemsworth. Just when you're about to gather your team, one of them walks up to you with an apologetic expression and you immediately know this isn't going to end up to your liking. “Hey, uh, (M/N), sorry to bother you but the other guys will be busy for next some hours with you know, set props and stuff. So, you'll have to take the measurements of Mr. Hemsworth alone” He rushes to explain again when he sees the shocked look on your face, “It's nothing difficult, really. You know how it's done, right?” You take a moment to collect yourself and nod unsurely. “Great! Good luck” He pats you on the back and hurries away.

“Shit” comes the first thing from your mouth and you know that you're gloriously fucked. But you also know that despite your current predicament, this work has to be done as soon as possible otherwise the pressure will grow on everyone. So, after releasing a long defeated sigh, you grab your things and head out. On your way, you pray to whatever higher power is up there to shorten your time alone with Chris Hemsworth and save you from the ultimate embarrassment.

Chris has just finished doing some light push-ups and weight-lifting knowing that it'll help broadening his muscles to make his body susceptible to perfect measurement. Just as he is about to grab a towel and clean the slight sheen of persiperation off his body, there comes a knock to the door. Musing it'll be the costume team, he walks over to the door, shirtless, and pulls it open. There, fidgeting like a nervous teenager, stands (M/N). But when those alluring eyes fall upon him, they widen almost comically. Never being able to focus on one thing, they shift from his face to his chest, abs, arm and every inch of his naked skin. He can't help but smile smugly at that.

Chris then sees you gulping visibly before looking up, face flushed so prettily and for the first time Chris wonders if you are a virgin. “Hey mate, I was waiting for you, come on in.” He moves aside to let you in. Seeing it just you, he asks, “You, uh, alone?” You nod, obviously more than nervous.

After an awkward amount of moment passes, you pull out the measurement tape from your back pocket and look up at him expectantly, “Shall we begin?”. He smiles, adjusting the ball cap he's wearing, “Sure, let me just clean off the sweat. I don't wanna make you uncomfortable” You nod and set down the notpads on the near table. After some moments, Chris comes out of his bedroom looking slightly fresh but the evidence of his chore is still fresh on his bronzed skin.

Unrolling the tape, you move closer to him and a wave of musky scent of sweat and ozone mixed with faint spicy cologne hits your nostrils. The man radiates musculinity and of pure testosterone which is practically overwhelming your senses, making your knees buckle. Trying to calm yourself down, you proceed.

Placing the metallic tip of the tape on his right shoulder, you measure out the length of his arm and then doing the same to his left arm. Following the same procedure you measure out the length of his upper body. Jotting down the numbers after immediately everytime.

Then you move to meter the width of his neck and collar and by the close promiximity you can now feel his hot breath down the side of your neck. Can feel his eyes boring onto the same spot and the delicious heat wafting off of him. You quickly dislodge yourself and move around to measure the width of his muscular shoulders, impressive at that. His eyes trailing your every movement. Gulping nervously, you shuffle around untill you get the measurement of his biceps, forearms and chest, eyes widening from the sheer size of them.

When it is time to get the measurement of his waist and lower body, you begrudgingly have to get down on your knees which seems to be only convenient.

Chris silently observes you getting down on your knees. The sight already having made his blood rushing south, cock thickening inside his shorts. He can feel your breath coming in contact with his crotch even with the barrier of thin fabric when you circle the tape around his waist. He is having an absolute hard time stiffling his groans. Multitude of lewd, pornographic images flashes through his mind, each one dirtier than the other.

You can clearly see the tan line on Chris's skin from where you're crouching in front of him. His low hanging shorts doing nothing to hide the trail of hair disappearing under the waistband nor the obvious swell of of a prominant bulge. You swallow thickly realizing you're eye to eye with Chris Hemsworth's very clothed manhood and how easy it'd be to just tug the ridiculous pair of shorts down and choke yourself on his huge Australian cock.

Chris is also having a hard time restraining himself to just smash your pretty face onto his crotch, fingers twitching from the effort. But when you look up at him suddenly with your wide (e/c) eyes and parted lips, he loses all the battles against his lust.

He picks you up in a flash. Ignoring your yelp of surprise, he smashes your lips together. The force of his kiss almost knocks you off balance. But you pull yourself together from the utter shock and wrap your arms around his neck. He wraps his huge arms around your waist and tugs yourself close even though there is not an ounce of space left between you, chests flush together. You try to kiss back as much as possible but you feel already delirious, mind hazy.

He eagerly sucks on your bottom lip. You moan in pleasure, making him groan and deepen the kiss. Soon his thick tongue seeks entrance to your mouth which you are very happy to comply. He licks the inside of your mouth, groaning from the taste. Tongues enterwining, you both lose yourself in the act. He bites your bottom lip and you whimper in response. His tongue is warm and heavy in your mouth, so as his body against yours.

He soon breaks the kiss and reluctantly pulls away, a trail of saliva connecting your lips. Both of your breath became heavier by now and he looks at you so intensely that you, feeling somewhat scrutinized, look down with your hands still clutching both of his meaty shoulders. Curling a finger under your chin, he tilts your head up and you notice for the first time, that his eyes are completely blown away, the blues of his orbs are blackened by what can be called as raw hunger. You can't help the shiver that wracks down your spine.

Wordlessly, he slowly backs you up against the nearest wall and once more kisses you so passionately as if trying to devour you. Involuntary tears gather at the corner of your eyes from the light suffocation. If it wasn't for him, you never would've known that kisses can be this much pleasurable to bring you to hardness in an instant.

Chris absolutely loves the taste of your mouth as he licks around every cravice. Your heavenly moans and whimpers going straight to his already engorged cock as it's leaking a steady stream of precome inside his boxers. He wants to hear you more, the sounds he can emit from your sinful lips as he makes you his. With this single thought in his minds, he pecks you on the lips one last time and slowly descends down the long column of your neck.

He takes a whiff from the juncture of your neck and shoulder before pressing his tongue flat on the skin. “You smell so good” he purrs in a husky tone and starts to suckle on your neck, pressing wet open mouthed kisses on your skin. You bite the back of your hand to stop yourself from making any more embarrassing noises. But he's just making it so hard from his slow ministrations.

Feeling restless and too worked up, you slowly start to roam your palms around his strong back. Both your hands don't even come together from the wideness of his upper back. As he feasts upon your neck, you rake your nails on his sweaty scalp, making him groan into your skin. So far, you are completely ignorant about how things escalated since you step into his trailer. You just simply can't bring yourself to care.

Chris tugs at the hem of your hoodie, a silent indication for you to remove it. You comply without any question and as soon as it comes off, his touches become more bolder. Pressing both of your naked chests together, he kisses and nips at your collarbone, lavs at the dip of your clavicle all the while letting his teeth graze at the soft skin. He follows the same movement on your throat and jaw before taking your earlobe between his teeth and gently bites down. You whine at the sensation as he kisses behind your ear and issues one demand, “I want you”.

That's the moment you know you are utterly and entirely his to do anything with and you don't even try to hold back the Yes that leaves your mouth in a whine.

At your permission, he settles both of his large hands on your hips and marvles at how they engulf the entirety of your narrow waist. Still kissing, he sneaks his hands down your waist to rest them on your ass before squeezing both cheeks roughly that has you moaning in his mouth.

At some point, Chris aligns both your hips together and thrusts forward and your eyes immediately roll back from the hard press of his large bulge against your own erection. Yes, he is going to split you open and you will absolutely let him.

But first, you need to worship the Greek god in front of you. Trace each dip and swell of his muscles with your tongue, have that heavy cock down your throat and then let him wreck you however he wants.

Mind made up, you try and push him away to make enough room. He looks at you with a puzzled expression and then slowly realization dawns on him, perhaps your needy expression gave you away. But you can only care less as he grins and let his hands fall at his sides.

Having enough space, you move forward to press a shy kiss on top of his left pec. The muscle feeling hard on your lips as a low groan leaves from the person above you. Pleased with his reaction, you grow more confident with your touches and shower open mouthed kisses along every inch of his tanned skin, tongue darting out to chase the salty taste of his sweat leaving a wet trail of saliva in it's wake.

While your mouth is busy worshipping his glorious abs, your hands roam on his strong biceps and equally dense triceps. You can hear him panting lightly as his hands gently pushing down on your shoulders to get you on your knees.

Your knees gently hits the soft carpet and you look up at him wide wide eyes, flushed cheeks and swollen lips. Chris curses at the sight of you and combs his rough, thick fingers through your soft locks and buries your face in his crotch. You grip at his strong thighs for support and inhale his strong musky scent, making you moan and leak inside your boxers.

He's so hard and the press of his hard, long and thick cock against your cheek feels every bit the exciting and terrifying. You can feel the heat of his members even through the fabric of his shorts as you mouth at his covered shaft hungrily.

“Fuck baby, c'mon. Pull it out. I wanna feel your pretty lips wrapped around me”, rasps the man in his deep Australian accent, making you bite your lip from moaning out loud.

You scramble to obey him and tug his already unlaced shorts down to his thighs. And immediately, his engorged erection springs free and slaps you across the cheek. Your eyes widen at the sight in front of you as you take in the size of Chris Hemsworth's beast of a cock.

It's long and as thick as your wrist, the tip is swollen and an angry shade of red with precum beading at the slit, veins running around the shaft and a thick vein at the underside, a nice thatch of dark blonde pubic hair at the base. So big. You drool at the thought of having it in your mouth and look down to spot his heavy looking balls that are not surprisingly also large, hanging between his thighs. They look so full, I wonder how much cum they can produce. You think in awe.

In no time, Chris grips your soft (h/c) locks and tugs you forward. You comply happily and wrap your lips around the thick spongey head. Throwing his head back, Chris groans at the feel of your soft lips on his sensitive glans. So hot and wet.

Pleased with his response, you press your tongue flat on the slit and lick up all the salty-sweet precum constantly dripping from his cock. The taste is strongly exquisite and you double down your effort to taste it more. Swirling your tongue expertly around the head, you try to take him deeper all the while gripping his strong thighs for support.

Chris watches is amazement as you continue to deep-throat him. Occasional low grunts leaving his lips as you bob your head up and down on his thick shaft. Spit and drool covering your chin as you gag and choke on his length. Chris swears at your relentless pace on sucking his cock. Even if you can't take him all the way down to your throat, you compensate with wrapping both hands around the missed portion. Jerking in time of your head movement.

You can feel Chris' thighs shaking as he presses one palm on the wall behind you and you realize that he is close. Moaning loudly around his cock, you continue faster than before and with both hands on his hips, you urge him to fuck your face. Chris immediately starts thrusting inside your warm mouth, a litany of curses falling from his lips.

You choke everytime the tip bumps the back of your throat but you don't give him any sign to stop. Drool making his cock shiny and slick as it travels down the base of his cock onto his heavy hanging balls. Wet slurping and gagging noises fill the room along with Chris Hemsworth's groans of pleasure.

“Fuck baby, I'm close. You want my cum?” Chris groans out between heavy pants as he looks down to see you looking pleadingly up at him.

“Mmm” is all you can say with your mouth full of his incredible cock but it's all he needed to hear before urgently thrusting a couple of more times and finally you can feel the warm rush of Chris Hemsworth's cum on your tongue. The taste of his sweet and salty seed in your mouth coaxing you to moan in delight as you swallow every single drop.

After he stops coming, you pull out his cock from your mouth with an audible pop and lick the remnants off of it. Looking up at him through your lashes as you press your tongue on the slit and wrapping your lips around it to give it a fierce suck to draw out any left behind, already hungry for more.

Chris watches with lidded eyes as his lustful gaze travels all over your body, blown wide pupils zeroing on your face. Cheeks flushed, eyes puffy and glistening, lips parted around his already hardening cock, chin covered in drool and cum, hair in a tangled mess. You're the perfect picture of debauchery and he can't waste anymore time.

With a hungry growl, he picks you up from the floor. Strong hands gripping the underside of your thighs to hoist you up in his arms. Taking the cue, you throw your arms around his neck and legs around his waist as he carries you to the bedroom, lips on every inch of your neck, his coarse beard a delicious friction on your soft skin.

Once reaching the pristinely decorated room, Chris deposites you on the bed, promptly climbing on top of you and claiming your lips once more in a heated kiss. It doesn't take long for him to slide his lips and tongue down your jaw to hungrily mouth on your neck. You can't keep the whimpers of pleasure that leave you parted lips which seems to encourage him to continue with his ministrations.

One hand fisting on the sheets and other entangled in Chris' dirty blonde hair, you arch upward with a high pitched moan as he latches his lips onto one of your nipple. Biting and rolling the hardened nub between his teeth before gently tugging and blowing on it has you writhing in his hold.

“P-please”

“Please what, baby?” Chris growls around your other nipple. You shake your head, tears of sweet torture skipping down the side of your face.

Raising up on his forearms Chris grabs ahold of your face and leans down to whisper hotly, “I want you to say it”

“P-please t-touch me” cheeks aflame, you breath out. Chris smirks but complies. Sneaking his hands past your stomach to unbutton your jeans, tugging them down along with your boxers. His hand immediately wraps around your aching flesh, completely engulfed in his big, sturdy hand. Your eyes flutters shut as a long moan escapes your throat, Chris immediately swallowing it down by pressing his mouth to yours.

With his sure hand stroking up and down your cock, you find yourself running your hands all over his sun kissed muscular body. You can't get enough of off him. The way he dominates you, makes you feel good and the way he overwhelms you with his equally overwhelming figure is something you're sure you'll never find anywhere else again. He completely ruined you—ruining you—for any other man.

It takes a while for you to register that his other hand that wasn't occupied are now busy between you parted thighs. One thick finger prodding at your entrance, making you jolt up in surprise. “L-lube” you choke out, knowing that his big digits won't be comfortable for a dry intrusion and you want this as painless as possible. But the thought appears unconvincing as you watch Chris nod with a smile and gets up to retrieve lube from drawer, his big cock bobbing and swaying with his movements.

Chris returns with a small container of lube in his hand, squirting a generous amount on his digits before coating them nicely and dropping the container on the sheets.

“Relax. Let me loosen you up, hmm?” Chris says with his deep voice that immediately soothes you, allowing you to take a deep breath as the first finger approaches you. Chris rhythmically thrusts his index finger inside you and the initial discomfort fades away as you listen to him saying, “You're doing so good baby. Such a good boy, getting ready for my cock”

Hearing Chris saying those things to you doubles your pleasure but it compare to when his finger hit that sweet spot inside you that makes your toes curl and back arch, silent scream erupting from your throat, eyes wide from the sheer intensity of it.

Chris has a triumphant expression on his face as he thrusts on that spot repeatedly. And before you know, three of Chris' fingers are inside your ass, loosening your walls. Chris watched you as a string of pleas fall from your lips and he knows that you're close.

Suddenly, Chris pulls out his fingers, making you whine at the loss and the emptiness. Chris chuckles, “Don't worry baby. I'll fill you up with something much better”.

With that, you watch as he drops a generous amount of lube in his palm and coats his large flesh with the substance. Chris shuffles closer, pressing the tip to your entrance as he looks at you for permission. You nod without hesitation, aching to be filled with his monstrous cock.

As the fat head of his cock pushes past the ring of your muscle, you already find yourself breathless. Winding your arms around his neck, you encourage him to go on. And he does. Chris pushes the entirety of his large manhood inside you tight channel with one long thrust. “Fuck” Chris grunts from how tightly your walls are gripping his cock “You're so fucking tight”

Meanwhile, an actual scream erupts from your throat as you feel him reaching so deep inside of you, at the same time stretching you so wide. The pain and pleasure making your senses go haywire as a sob rips from your core.

“You're so- so big”

Chris can't response. Not when he feels this good. He can already feel the tingling in his balls, already churning and filling up with cum. He can no longer hold back. He needs to move. To pound into your tight- sweet ass till both of you can't remember your names.

“Fuck, baby. I need to move. Can I move?” Chris grits out, muscles straining from the effort of holding back.

Overwhelmed yourself, you lock your ankles behind his back and can only nod. But thankfully Chris notices as a sigh of relief leaves his lips. It soon changes into a look of determination as he pulls back till only the tip is inside before slamming back in with full force.

It jolts you from you position but soon after Chris' hand grabs your hips in a tight grip and his powerful hips starts thrusting without inhibition. It's like a dam has been broken the way Chris delivers each of his thrusts. Both of you are a moaning and groaning mess.

Chris hits every right spot inside you that makes you toe curl. You watch transfixed as his powerful body collides with your much smaller and petite one. Every single muscle in his body looks on overdrive with each snap of his hips. Sweat sprouting on his forehead, some of it gathering between the slope of his pecs making it glisten in daylight. Every fibre of muscle in his biceps bulging with how tightly he's grabbing your hips, sure to leave marks in it's wake. His abs also glistening from sweat, tightening with tension as a few drops gathering on his dark blonde pubes. In this moment of passion, you realize you have never seen a man so handsome, masculine and equally beautiful in you life. And said man is now giving you the wildest ride of your life.

“You feel so good, baby. So fucking good”

Your response in only a choked moan. But you somehow manage to let out, “Harder, Chris. Please, harder”

“Yeah? You want me to go hard, baby?”

Again, you can only nod. But Chris grants you wishes. With one swift movement, he flips you onto your stomach. Roughly pulling your ass up and smashing your face onto the pillow, he slides back in. Every inch of his glorious cock and starts to pound harder than ever.

You bite onto the pillow to muffle your sounds but Chris leans down and grabs you chin, murmuring in you ear, “Don't cover your sounds. I want to hear them. I want to hear you scream my name baby”

With that, he pulls his cock back slowly, letting you feel the delicious drag of cock inside of you before snapping back in and immediately hitting your prostate. Your eyes snap open as he makes you scream as promised, “Nnghh!!!Chris!!!”

After that, Chris doesn't relent. He jabs at your prostate with his cock mercilessly. His heavy balls slapping against your ass as he thrusts from behind and you push your ass back in time of his thrusts to meet him halfway. Yes yes please please Chris words fall from your lips like mantra.

“Yeah? You like that? You like my big cock inside your sweet ass?”

“Yes yes” you nod your head frantically

“Tell me how much you like my big fat cock”

“So much. Please”

“Yeah? And what do you want?”

“I want— oh yes —I want your cum”

“Fuck”

Chris again flips you onto your back. Pushing back in and setting up his rhythmic thrusts, he leans down and starts sucking bruises on your neck and shoulder. By the time both of your breath becomes heavier and pants starts to grow louder, you can't hold back anymore. Without even touching, your cock is ready to explode.

“C-Chris, I'm coming”

“Shit, baby. Me too. Cum with me”

And with one last precise thrust that hits you right in your sweet spot you're coming all over yourself. Cum landing on your stomach and pooling on your lower belly.

At the same time, Chris lets out a low growl and comes inside you in long spurts. You can feels his hot seed coating your inner walls, painting them white. There's so much of it that it starts to leak around his cock, still deep inside you. Your cock gives a weak little twitch from the sensation and then Chris collapses right on top of you. Your lithe body squished beneath his sweaty bulky one.

“That was fucking amazing” Chris breathes out, face buried in your neck.

“Yes. I loved it” you giggle, looping your arms around his shoulders and stroking his sweat drenched hair.

Chris looks up at you and grins. Dorky and satisfied. “Shower?”

You nod shyly. Chris tugs you up by the wrist and guides you towards the end suite bathroom.

On the way there Chris slaps one of your ass cheeks and smirks suggestively down at you. “Next time, I'm eating this out before doing anything else”

You feel your cheeks boil as he laughs his famous booming laughter. But neither you can contain the smile that tugs at the corner of your lips.

Next time

A/N (2) : phew! At last. I'm sorry guys this fic is too much lengthy. I always feel the need to explain every single situation in my fics also very prolonged and detailed smut. And honestly it's so much tiring and mentally strenuous as fuck. So I swore to myself that I'm going to keep my thought process at minimum from now on. On second note, I don't know shit about a movie's costume making process, i just made the whole thing up. Guilty. Again, I'm sorry if the story longivity bothers you guys, I'm trying my best. See y'all soon with another of my groundbreaking fic Lol ;P

[choking-on-ice]

exactly 1 person asked, so here's 30 minutes worth of reasons why Silco x Viktor is my Arcane OTP and more people should open themselves to it's glory

and yes, I did format it a little like an oral presentation, what of it

General Compatibility

Both of them have a dry wit and unique outlook on life

People who don't know them well might find them very blasé but in truth they're both very caring and passionate people

Their banter would be top tier, frankly it's hard to picture anyone would be able to match Viktor’s quips as well as Silco could (Jayce understands the jokes and teasing ofc, but I just don't see him being able to bounce back the same energy. Though Mel could probably keep up just as well as Silco, but in a more light hearted way)

Silco wouldn't struggle with pitying or underestimating Viktor for his disability, nor would he ignore it and be all “it doesn't matter, it's what makes you, you” (as a disabled crutch user, ppl pretending ur disability doesn't exist and just expecting you to act able bodied is wayyy more common than people being over the top “worried”)

Viktor would very much be the angel on Silco’s shoulder, while Silco would be a bit of the devil on his

Silco is arguably the angel on other people's shoulders at times, given that he gives ppl who would be in senseless gang wars a real goal and drive towards progress for Zaun

Viktor could be considered the devil on Jayce’s shoulder sometimes, tempting him to push against authority for sake of technological advancement

Silco needs someone who has the mind for tech, strategy, politics, and philosophy at his side, since he's in a position of power with no advisors

Viktor needs someone who values him for his mind, body, and heart, but also his background. He's seen as “one of the good ones” and this never really gets a seat at the table, he needs someone who genuinely trusts in his input that would put his advice to work

They're both men of action, sitting on their hands and twiddling their thumbs doesn't suit them. There wouldn't be a “will they won't they” and the chances of them getting together in the spur of the moment only to realize there are real feelings there much later are pretty high

Similarities

Disabled men from the undercity who are driven by their desire to prevent anyone else from having to suffer the way they have at the hands of a corrupt system (in a non "gotta cure all the poor cripples way" cuz that shit is as uninspired as it is insulting)

Have dedicated their life to improving the living conditions of their people

Very intelligent and clearly brilliant in their professions, despite how different they may be

Both their altruistic goals come to ruin because power, whether they wanted that power or not, blinded and corrupted those goals

Impulsive as hell, Silco in his personal life but Viktor in his personal and professional

Differences

Silco is disillusioned and doesn't see a path to freedom for his people that doesn't involve bloodshed

Viktor is an idealist who might understand the necessity for violence in certain instances but would never seek, encourage, or enact it

Silco is a strategist, and a very good one at that, who uses the genius of others to gain and hold power via technology

Viktor is an inventor, and the most brilliant one we see in their world, who yes pushes boundaries of authority but never seeks power over others (from his perspective, his Messiah era was meant to be a chance at freedom for people who had been denied it, not authority over them)

Viktor is deeply trusting, he doesn't plot or scheme and barely ever lies

Silco trusts very little, we even his moment of doubt that Sevika might kill him that one time, his greatest skill is his ability to scheme and cheat others

Viktor doesn't believe in “the sacrifice of the few to save the many” but would commit the personal sacrifice of those he holds most dear to achieve his dream of helping Zaun and the world

Silco does believe that the death of a hundred to save a thousand is worth it, but he would never allow a personal sacrifice of the person he holds most dear even when it would mean Zaun becoming a free nation

Potential Dynamics

Disappointed Leader and Follower

Silco thinks Viktor is a class traitor, who abandoned his people as soon as the wealthy Pilties showed him an ounce of approval

Viktor thinks Silco is brilliant, and was an eager follower of his when he was younger, but now thinks he's abandoned his goals of freeing Zaun from Piltover and is just replacing the subjection of their people by Pilties with his own.

As they get to know eachother they come to understand better that their goals are the same, the only difference is how the world allowed them the chance to pursue it.

Is this fighting or making out?

Silco likes the power of putting “Piltover’s Brightest” in his place

Viktor is even more stubborn than he is smart, and maybe has a bit of a thing for humiliation

Who's worshipping who?

Silco is in secret awe of enlightened Viktor, but is overwhelmed by the idea of putting his hope and heart in someone else's control

Viktor is putty in the hands of his childhood hero, but can't shake the feeling that even now with the Arcane flowing through him, he isn't strong enough to stay afloat in the storm that is Silco

(Would happen in a version where Silco is revived by Viktor, but in this one the ppl saved by Viktor retain their personalities)

Scenarios / AUs

Early enlightenment Viktor being sought out by Silco who at first is worried about him being a threat, but then seeing the vision Viktor has for Zaun and the things he's capable of deciding he is an asset. Silco providing protectors of their sanctuary, under the guise that he’s “planning how to use Viktor as a pawn” when in reality this commune is the first sign of hope he's seen for Zaun in a long time.

Viktor seeking out shimmer from Silco, because he recognizes the ingenuity behind the drug even if he doesn't approve of it. Silco distrusts him and will only sell to him if he conducts his experiments on it down in the undercity. Viktor starts pulling double duty, working both in Piltover and in Zaun and they become closer and begin to collaborate on the creation and distribution of a new strain of shimmer, not meant to be used as a recreational drug but instead as an affordable, accessible medication for those affected by the toxic fumes from the mines. Viktor is reminded of his roots, and realizes how distant from his culture he's become. Silco is reminded that his dream for Zaun doesn't mean anything if the generation of those he wants to build it for are dead. (Also a great opportunity for some Jayce/Viktor Silco/Viktor love triangle jealousy nonsense hehehe)

Silco succeeds in his negotiations for Zaun freedom before he can become a chembaron, Viktor ends up becoming an ambassador for Zaun. Specifically dealing with education and technology as Zaun would have limited resources, so he is one of the people overseeing the building of the educational system and helping to fix the pollution from the mines with Hextech (he and Jayce would obviously be able to recreate Hextech, but the existence of a free Zaun means that the property of it is shared by both nations)

Viktor loses his benefactor when they discover something from his past that the Pilties deem “unfit of an Academy member” and must return to the fissures, this time as the right hand man of Silco who would never be stupid enough to let his talents go to waste.

Silco replaces Sky as Viktor's astral guide (because let's be real Sky was just thrown in there bc Arcane was queerbaiting the fuck outta Jayce and Viktor for some reason so they needed a random woman who had barely ever spoken on screen before) and their astral conversations go a little differently

Honourable mentions to: Viktor doing that shimmer painting stuff for Silco or vice versa, Speakeasy AU where there's a Zaunite run speakeasy topside that both Viktor and Silco frequent, Altered Timeline AU where Viktor seeks Silco out just before he becomes a chembaron to bring him to the Council as a temp member while they consider his proposition for Zaun's independance, Viktor must form an allyship with Silco so he can work on reducing the toxic gases in the fissures without being arrested by enforcers as he's going against council orders, or being killed by the other chembaron who runs that section of the city, Viktor joins the Firelights after Jayce threatens war on Zaun and begins brokering deals with other smaller gangs until Silco hears word and is interested in forming an alliance.

I hope you enjoyed this ted talk, please feel free to share with your friends and to tag me in any fanart / fanfics you see out there because I'm rabid for these fellas

thank you @orionchildofhades for the opportunity to go apeshit on main about these two

And big shout out to @blueberrymffn who's fanfiction The Things We Do For Progress got me hooked on this ship

[luimagines]

hey hey! it’s been awhile

could i please ask for a continuation to the wars soulmate au?

-🫓

Sure thing buddy! :)

Masterlist

Part 1

Content under the cut!

Now- you pitch yourself off a cliff. That's what.

You stand up abruptly- breaking the tension before it can fully form and run out of the room.

This is mortifying.

This is not what you wanted to learn today even if it still makes sense given what Sky had told you about how the soulmate stones worked. Of course Warrior was your soulmate. Had to be. It's not like it would have been one in a bajillion chance at ever meeting him.

And what does it say for when all of this is over?

You do abandon your friends and family for the sake of following him? You can't ask him to follow you. He's too important. Too many people are depending on him for him to simply go with you and live whatever simple life you had to offer.

Is this the end then? Are you still doomed? You doubt you would be able to move on from this even if you were never going to be together.

"Hold it!" Someone grabs your arm.

You scream and jump, trying to tear your arm away but it's Warrior.

Of course it's Warrior.

"What?" You ask with you heart in your throat. "Don't make this harder than it has to be. Please!"

He stills and instantly lets you go. Whatever words he had on his tongue die in an instant and you have the ever subtle feeling that perhaps you shouldn't have said that. Could this get any worse?

Warrior takes a deep breath, bravely meeting your eyes. "I'm sorry."

Why must you tempt the universe? How much more must you pay for your hubris?

Your jaw drops and your stand there stunned. "Wait-"

"I just..." Warrior starts again, cutting you off. "I'm sorry. I'm probably not your first choice." -Oh my god- "I know that my past has more baggage than it's worth." -What have you done?- "But I thought... The stones were honest though, right?"

He looks so hopeful. Had he actually wanted something from you? With you? You sudden get cotton mouth. You can't speak. Your brain flat lines there are no thoughts for you to grab onto.

"Right?" He echoes his previous question, wanting confirmation. "Even... if that was incredibly embarrassing, it was true, wasn't it?"

Somehow you nod.

Warrior lets out a shuddering breath. "Oh... Oh, ok... good. Uh- I mean. I'm... I'm glad that you.. um... Look, I really like you." He says, biting the bullet. "Like... really really like you. I wasn't- I didn't want to seem like I was coming on too strong and the guys give me a hard time enough as it is. But if this is true... If you like me too, do you think...?"

You feel like you need to sit down again. you're only saving grace is that you're outside where no one seemed to have followed you. "...You... like me?"

"Is that so hard to believe?" He flushes, the tips of his ears burning a bright red. "I had thought you believed I was just a joke."

"Funny." You choke on the word. "That couldn't have been further from the truth."

"What is the truth?" Warrior stress, boldly closing the distance between you again. His blushing features don't help him stay stoic and cool like he would have hoped.

You gulp. You don't have the words. This is both agonizingly slow and much too fast for you to handle. Why couldn't he just read your mind and- Wait. The stones.

Double wait.

You're close to each other. The stone would be silent. Cursed be the need to communication!

You take his hand instead and hold it tight. "I think... we both already know the truth."

You kiss his knuckles before you can second guess yourself. His hands are smoother and softer than you would have thought. He wasn't wearing his hand guards yet, still in his casual wear.

The effect of your kiss on Warrior was another delightfully bright blush all over his face, down to his neck and beyond. "I.... I see."

"Do you?" You whisper, feeling like a fish out of water. Everything about this feels raw and sensitive. One wrong move and everything would blow up.

"I think so." Warrior leans in, kissing your cheek. "Better?"

You suddenly feel like you can breathe again. "Much better."

[presidentdisastraofgallifrey]

Gallifrey Relisten Lists: Series 1

Romana, Destroyer of Worlds

Her backup plan if negotiating fails is to blow up the entire planet of Gryben and everyone (the Time Lords trapped) on it. Initially she wanted to lower the barrier and give some people a chance to run, but she doesn't argue when Brax vetoes this (Weapon of Choice)

Insists that they stop the theft of the timeonic fusion device from its testing despite knowing what will happen, allowing Minyos to be destroyed without even trying to find a way to save it (The Inquiry)

Romana is Suicidal

Plan A involves waltzing into a charged situation and offering herself to the terrorists in exchange for diffusing the timeonic fusion device. And, yes, this is a trick, but it's a very risky one and still counts because the first idea that came into her head involved her own potential death (Weapon of Choice)

Plan B involves having Brax blow up the entire planet to prevent the device going off, with her on it to prevent a war starting about it (Weapon of Choice)

Plan C involves sitting there and waiting for said device to detonate a few feet away without trying to diffuse it, betting that it's actually a bluff and will never go off (Weapon of Choice)

Says "all of us are willing to die to defend our beliefs" as if it's a pure truth of the universe (Weapon of Choice)

Casually refers to both herself and Napenthe as martyrs (Weapon of Choice)

Is faced with a "robot" attempting to kill her and just completely forgets to run away in favor of asking it questions about its anomalous behavior (Square One)

Runs off completely alone to confront Brax about his alleged dangerous criminal behavior, refusing to allow someone to come along and protect her (The Inquiry)

Later that same day, demands to accompany Brax to fight servitors (though they didn't then know who they'd have to fight then) and stop the theft, again risking her life (The Inquiry)

Parks her tardis in front of a speeding train to frighten Andred-Torvald into telling her the truth, and I truly don't think she knew if she would go through with it if this plan failed (A Blind Eye)

Leela is Smarter than the Time Lords

She's the only one paying enough attention to notice the Monan spy in the Free Time movement (Weapon of Choice)

Memorizes door codes after being told by K9 once (Square One)

Workes out the logical person to be in the robot costume very quickly (Square One)

Annoys and needles Narvin into very nearly giving away information he doesn't want to (The Inquiry)

Honorable mention: despite drowning in grief and betrayal, is the only one to walk away from that train in a dignified and adult manner in a story where Romana nearly kills a bunch of people and meets with a known criminal, Torvald tries to break the timeline on purpose, Andred commits identity fraud, and every just generally behaves badly (A Blind Eye)

Everyone is Autistic

Romana relies on her emotional support Braxiatel to help her regulate her emotions and initial reactions. I don't think she realizes they're doing this, but he clearly does and has clearly done it often enough before to be unconcerned about whether she'll listen (Weapon of Choice)

I'm not going to record every instance of this because it's (far too) constant, but Leela processes complex concepts through familiar metaphor, which is why Romana automatically explains things to her like that (Weapon of Choice)

Despite knowing the plan and understanding subterfuge, it takes Leela a moment to process that K-9 has shifted from his usual self to the evil persona he's playing (Weapon of Choice)

Leela assumes a new situation will work the same as it has in the past and she doesn't need to think through the logistics, thus assuming that Torvald will pay for the meat she grabs (Weapon of Choice)

None of them can lie worth a damn when put on the spot (Weapon of Choice, but also just...all of it)

Leela takes a long time to understand space sex work euphemisms despite understanding the concept of space sex work (Square One)

Leela struggles (again) to get in character despite understanding why she should lie (Square One)

Narvin...uh...*gestures vaguely to Narvin's entire deal and all attempts at diplomacy* (Square One, but also always)

Leela doesn't understand why she should follow inquiry protocols when they're redundant, such as introducing herself (The Inquiry)

Narvin decides never to trust Brax because "he disagreed with me once"

Even when openly contemptuous of a person, Narvin is awkward and uncomfortable when dealing with emotions, his or theirs (The Inquiry)

Romana, Leela, and Narvin all stick very strictly to their own moral codes and get very upset when something or someone doesn't match up (The Inquiry, but also always)

Romana telling the conductor that she's President of Gallifrey is such an autistic mannerism. My guess is it's a holdover from when she didn't understand that aliens wouldn't get it that became an inside joke with herself (A Blind Eye)

Narvin is so incredibly proud that Andred found no conspiracy, that he runs a squeaky clean...black ops spy agency. Do you think he understands that he is literally the only CIA agent this determined to follow the rules? (A Blind Eye)

Leela's "we must protect even those who disgust us" is along the same lines (A Blind Eye)

[wellofdean]

Thinking about @luckshiptoshore and her liveblog of watching Supernatural and how much I love following it and how great it is to watch someone just fucking ENJOY the show...

And then, there were a couple of people in my Discord who love the fic, but have never watched the show, and folks in there were trying to convince them that it was worth watching (duh!) and that knowing the show by heart makes the fic so much better and like yes, again... DUH! And then I was suddenly overcome with such a feeling of ENVY for all the people who still have the chance to watch Supernatural for the first time already knowing what happens in the end.

I mean, I watched 14 years of it in real time (after downloading and bingeing season 1) and at least I was clever enough not to be in the fandom trenches that whole time, and just enjoyed it for what it was, but the end broke my brain, and changed the whole show for me.

Because, like, here's what happens in Supernatural by the end: Dean and Cas are in love. It was not subtle. Dean can't say it because he never has a single moment of not being up to his pretty, pretty eyeballs in dealing with the ongoing and constantly multiplying trauma of being the man his father raised him to be, and god's specialest boy to boot, but in the end, Cas finally does just fucking say it. Not only that, he waits until he can use it to save Dean, and show him once and for all in an incontrovertible, undeniable way exactly how deeply and truly loved and SEEN he is.

When you watch it knowing that, knowing that the the whole story is going to end in that stupid bunker dungeon with Cas telling Dean who he is and dying to save him, the whole thing just HITS DIFFERENT, because the Dean of season one with his outcast liminality and pretty, pretty lips is the poor, lonely, weird boy who will one day be loved like that by Castiel, an angel of the lord -- an impossible Eldritch being who learned what love and selfhood are from closely observing Dean.

The consensus amongst most Supernatural fans is that it is trashy and bad and that its all evil queerbaiting, but I would contend that it's actually deeply entertaining, culturally rich and interesting (yes, even its flaws and missteps), often impressively well-written and acted, never puts on any airs about being prestige television or high art, but still manages to be ultimately epic and somehow sublime, and that it's a queer story, about queer love saving the universe, and it is so, so worth watching.

Like, my brainworms are not 'they strung me along all that time and then never let them make out', by brainworms are 'they told us so many times and in so many big and small ways, and now I need to watch every bit of it again and again and again so I can finally REVEL IN IT (and, friends, that is the Supernatural rewatch journey: realising it was ALWAYS THERE). My brainworms aren't 'but does Dean reciprocate??' they are: 'of course he loves Cas, and of course Cas knows that Dean loves him, and the one thing Cas can't have? That's just his chance at happiness and a soft epilogue with and for Dean, because Cas, impossible, cosmic, Eldritch being Cas, traded his chance at happiness for his family's lives and sacrificed himself for love of his son and Dean, because that is what you do when you love someone, and what he has watched Dean never stop doing for even a minute of his beleaguered life.'

And then, Dean dies (yes, it's stupid), and he cannot just go to heaven, drink a beer and hang out, he needs to climb into his magic soul vehicle, hit the axis mundi and tear the universe up looking for his angel and his happy ending in The Winchesters? Fuck me.

And like, it's the most romantic, and devastating story I have ever been told? And I love it so much?

[jovefondech]

YutaMaki all canon evidence! Read this if you lack knowledge about Yutamaki. Why they have development and not a lackluster.

Yutamaki deniers and Yutamaki defenders, take note!

If you’re wondering about Yuta Okkotsu and Maki Zenin ending up together, Im here to show you why many people believe in YutaMaki and why the evidence strongly supports it. There is no headcanon, there are numerous hints throughout Jujutsu Kaisen that point toward their romantic potential. I will list them them down here, using only canon source material. I will also list down counter argument that denies Yutamaki endgame.

1. Hints from Jujutsu Kaisen 0

Even in JJK 0, there were clear signs of YutaMaki being set up.

Panda ships them. Panda first teased Yuta about Maki, showing that he sees potential in them. One example is when he asks Yuta what kind of boob size he likes, and Yuta answers, “Big ones.” Panda immediately cheers Maki on, implying she has a chance. Another moment is when Maki playfully hits Yuta on the head, and Panda blushes and giggles at them like a shipper watching their OTP interact. Maki, confused, asks Panda why he’s laughing.

Maki’s only blush in the series is because of Yuta. During their classroom scene, Yuta praises Maki, and she acts like a tsundere, clearly touched by his words. When she leaves the room, she blushes, something she doesn’t do for anyone else in the entire series.

Rika’s jealousy and Yuta’s protective reaction. After Geto injures Maki and the others, Yuta heals them, but he’s especially concerned about Maki. Rika, jealous, snatches Maki’s unconscious body and shakes her, yelling, “It’s not fair! It’s not fair! Always thinking of you! Always thinking of you!” Yuta, visibly angry, scolds Rika, saying, “What are you doing, Rika?! She saved my life! Hold her gently, like a butterfly or a flower!” This moment is significant. it shows that Yuta deeply cares for Maki, to the point where Rika, who represents his deep emotions, feels threatened. It's also been months since he's been with his classmates with the real rika so during those times, Rika watched Yuta and Maki interact in a way that made Rika jealous, Although he is close with all his classmates, it should be a coincidence why Rika would specifically target Maki. It is worth reconsidering the reason behind her actions.

2. Gege Akutami’s Interviews and Official Hints

When asked, "Will Yuta like another girl other than Rika?" Gege responded, “I'm sure he will from now on.” Note that Gege included "from now on" hinting that he already had it in mind, and who could that be? Who is the only girl Yuta is close to at this point? Maki.

When asked how Maki’s view of Yuta has changed, Gege replied, “From an annoying beansprout to an incredible beansprout.” This shows clear character development in her perception of him.

When asked, “Who is Maki’s first love?” Gege replied, “I don’t know,” but placed a manga panel of Panda shipping YutaMaki right next to the question. Coincidence? Probably not.

3. Light Novel Evidence (approved by Gege)

The JJK 0 light novel gives even deeper insight into Yuta and Maki’s feelings.

Yuta is shown admiring Maki, thinking:

"To Yuta, Maki is like the shining star in the winter sky."

This is nothing romantic for them but

This kind of poetic description looked a bit romantic in perspective. It also enhanced their chemistry.

After their conversation, Maki feels warmth in her chest and blushes, recalling his words.

There’s also an interesting parallel:

Yuta’s thoughts on Rika’s spirit disappearing: “Rika’s body became more and more transparent, the form that had been imprinted in his childhood memories began to melt like snow under the winter sun.”

Yuta’s thoughts on Maki: “Like the shining star in the winter sky.”

The winter imagery is a deliberate connection, suggesting Yuta sees Maki in a way similar to how he once viewed Rika.

4. Anime Q&A Hint

In a Q&A segment where the girls (and gojo) were asked about their type, Maki answered, “Someone who is stronger than me.”

Who is the strongest sorcerer alive by the end of the manga? Yuta. And Maki knows Yuta is stronger than her.

5. Yuta and Maki’s Bond in the Main Series

-before Yuta appears, Yutamaki was foreshadowed. Megumi introduces Maki by saying she’s rough with others, but Panda, blushing a little, adds that she’s much softer when she’s with Yuta. This suggests Maki treats Yuta differently from everyone else.

-When Yuta finally reunites with Maki after a long time, his first words to her are, “Are you okay? Can you move?” showing his immediate concern for her well-being.

-Maki is the one who reassures Yuta that he’s stronger than Hakari. Given that Maki specifically said her type is someone stronger than her, this is a meaningful statement.

-Maki comforts Yuta after Gojo’s death. She places a hand on his shoulder when he’s in deep distress, showing emotional support.

-Maki is the only one who visibly showed strongly opposing Yuta’s self-sacrificing nature. Even though his friends also oppose him, Maki is the only one who voiced it to him. She stresses about him risking his life and argues against it multiple times, showing how much she cares.

-After the final battle, Maki lectures Yuta for being worthless (actually more like risking his life that he almost died)

Yuta, kneeling with his head bowed and even tearing up, apologizes to Maki, something he hasn’t done to anyone else except Rika.

Maki yells at him, worried despite her tough demeanor.

I'll also quote during that scene:

Maki: "I'm not trying to blame Yuta, I got hit by multiple blackflashes! But this guy... ugh! nevermind."

Yuta: "??"

Panda and Inumaki giggle at them, as if they know she’s being a tsundere.

You see, This scene shows that Maki was really worried about him because he almost died.

-The last panel of Yuta shows him walking with his classmates, but he’s looking at Maki and smiling stupidly.

6. The Final Illustration and Epilogue

After the last chapter, Gege released an illustration of Yuta and Maki together, with Maki side-hugging Yuta while they both smile.

In the epilogue (JJK year 2080), Panda meets two children:

The grandson looks like Maki (or another Zen’in), with a clear resemblance.

The granddaughter looks like Yuta and wears Yuta and Rika’s ring necklace.

Panda directly calls them Yuta’s grandkids and says about the granddaughter, “She has a bad personality.”

Maki once said, “I have a bad personality.” in jjk 0. So The granddaughter’s personality seems to mirror Maki’s.

This heavily implies that these are Yuta and Maki’s descendants. Gege could have easily drawn random kids, but instead, he made sure one resembled a Zen’in and the other resembled Yuta, making the connection almost undeniable. Gege drew the grandkids for a reason.

7. Yuta’s Character Theme: Love

Yuta’s entire character revolves around love. He’s not the type to move on quickly or start a relationship with someone random, he deeply values strong bonds. Geto once called him a womanizer, but Yuta refuted it, saying, “How rude! It is pure love.” If he were to end up with an unknown NPC woman, it would completely contradict his character theme.

8. Jujutsu Kaisen Is a Shonen Series. Gege Doesn’t Care About Making Ships Canon for Fanservice

Let’s be real. Jujutsu Kaisen is a shonen battle manga, not a romance series. Gege Akutami isn’t interested in writing love stories or confirming ships just to satisfy fans. If they were, we would’ve seen explicit romances like in other series that cater more to shipping.

Gege barely focuses on romance in the story. The only “confirmed” couples are ones that existed before the story (Toji & Megumi’s mom) or happen entirely off-screen (Jiji & Yuji’s mom). semi-canon ships but less screen time (Mehamaru & Miwa ) and implied (Hakari & Kirara) , they all weren't focused enough so it should be the same way with Yutamaki.

That’s why most relationships in JJK, romantic or not, are built through implication rather than explicit statements.

Gege doesn’t care about confirming ships, especially since he purposely rushed the story. Yet, YutaMaki is one of the most developed pairings in JJK. Even though they remain friends throughout the series, their strong chemistry supports the possibility of them ending up together.

This is exactly why YutaMaki wasn’t shoved in our faces with a dramatic confession or wedding scene. Gege left hints instead of outright confirmations because that’s his style of storytelling.

Gege is more of a subtext writer than outright confirming. Yuji's mom being kenjaku wasn't stated but only visually shown, Kirara being trans wasn't stated but was visually shown in a bonus. So YutaMaki endgame not stated but visually shown would make sense. Explicitly confirming it wouldn’t matter and would be out of Gege’s writing style, especially since it’s irrelevant to the main story.

The idea that “it’s not canon unless it’s stated” ignores that JJK simply doesn’t operate that way. If Gege wanted to make an obvious fanservice couple, he would’ve done it, but he didn’t. Instead, he gave us Yuta and Maki’s bond, the implied grandkids scene, and all the subtext without spoon-feeding the conclusion.

At the end of the day, denying YutaMaki just because it isn’t “confirmed” is missing the bigger picture. Gege doesn’t care about forcing ships, but he still put in all these YutaMaki moments for a reason.

9. The "Yuta’s Grandkids Could Be Megumi’s Descendants" Theory Is Nonsense

Some people argue that Yuta’s grandkids in the epilogue must be related to Megumi instead of Maki, just because one of them looks like a Zen’in. Heres why this theory doesn’t make sense at all:

-Megumi Has Nothing to Do With Yuta’s Story

There’s no logical reason for Yuta’s grandkids to be linked to Megumi when he has nothing to do with Yuta’s personal story.

Yuta and Megumi barely have personal interactions in the manga. They respect each other as allies, but their relationship isn’t deep or significant to Yuta’s character arc.

If the epilogue was supposed to hint at a connection between Megumi’s bloodline and Yuta’s future, there would’ve been some kind of setup or foreshadowing in the main story, but there wasn’t, Thats why that would be an Asspull.

-assuming Yuta and Megumi got laid by some random npc girls

Straight to the point without process Megumi ending up with some random NPC girl out of nowhere makes no sense narratively. As for Yuta, if he ended up with a random NPC girl, it would contradict his character, making him a womanizer like Geto once said to him that Yuta despised. He already developed a strong bond with Maki, so why would he need to form another one when someone already compatible with him exists?

- If Yuta’s Descendants Weren’t Maki’s, It Would Undermine His Relationship with Her

If Yuta didn’t end up with Maki, then all their moments in JJK 0, the main series, and even the bonus chapter with the grandkids would have zero payoff.

What would be the point of all the hints, their strong chemistry, Panda shipping them, the deep emotional connections, and the grandkids both resembling Yuta and Maki if they weren’t actually endgame?

Gege isn’t the type to waste character arcs like that. If Yuta’s grandkids weren’t connected to Maki, their designs wouldn’t have been so obviously linked to her.

At the end of the day, Jujutsu Kaisen doesn’t confirm ships outright, but the subtext is undeniable, the epilogue strongly implies that Yuta and Maki ended up together and had a family. People can stay in denial, but the hints are all right there.

- The Epilogue Is from Panda’s POV

The perspective of the grandkids scene was from Panda.

And who has been one of the biggest YutaMaki shippers in the entire series? Panda.

If Panda sees Yuta’s grandkids and immediately connects them to both Yuta and Maki (especially pointing out the girl’s "bad personality," which Maki literally said about herself), then there’s a reason for that.

7. "timeskip Yuta had many years to develop a relationship with some girl" is nonsense.

That statement is bullshit. Jujutsu Kaisen is a written story, not real life. Fiction follows narrative structure and character development, not random off-screen events that aren't built up in the story.

If Gege wanted to establish Yuta forming a new relationship, he would have at least hinted at it. But instead, the story had Yuta’s bond with Maki. Fiction isn’t about "realistic possibilities" it’s about what is shown, implied, and developed within the narrative. Saying "it could’ve happened off-screen" is just an excuse to ignore the evidence in the actual story.

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Conclusion

The amount of hints and foreshadowing throughout Jujutsu Kaisen strongly suggests that Yuta and Maki were intended to be endgame. Their relationship has been built up since JJK 0, and continued to develop throughout the main series. This leads up to the epilogue, like connecting pieces of puzzles together. However, the pairing is never explicitly stated in the story, but the evidence makes it clear.

If you still don’t see the YutaMaki vision after all this… well, you just don't like the ship and you're in denial and have no reading comprehension. But at least now you know why so many fans believe they’re canon.

Btw I'm not saying Yutamaki is canon, they are actually semi-canon because they're just hinted, not confirmed.

Finally, if you read allat, then you just gained Great Yutamaki knowledge, thank you for reading.

[fumifooms]

Let's TALK about this drowning scene hello, specifically Chilchuck trying to save Marcille at the risk of his own life. The context is: This is after the demon leaves, when the dungeon collapses, the dungeon gets flooded by water and they go under, with no sense of where or how there could be an exit to this. 1: Since the dungeon is collapsing and reviving someone only works in dungeons, there is no guarantee that Marcille or anyone would be able to revive someone during or after this, NONE. 2: He is risking his life for her, he is STRAIGHT UP playing his life on this choice, action hits and shit gets more serious than it ever has, and he yet does it anyways. Perhaps it's the gravity of it that pushes him to make this choice, that this time if someone dies it's for real and he can't accept that, but either way his choice is made in a split second, he prefers the risk of dying trying to save her than the risk of living while she died. He is fighting for scraps of hope, seconds more of holding onto life. Which, 3: This situation is HOPELESS. In the end yes they end up being spat out the dungeon by some exit with the strenght of the flood, but there was no way to know this would happen, and like we see in the third panel Chilchuck and the others do lose consciousness. That's the hopelessness for "a way out of this", but even moreso, what is he hoping to accomplish? He's small and weak like he always reminded the party for fights, he CANNOT PULL HER UP TO SAFETY, HE CANNOT PULL HER AT ALL, WE SEE HIM STRUGGLE TO AND FAIL. HE CAN'T DO ANYTHING BUT HE STILL TRIES DESPITE THE RISK. You might also say- haha!! You might also say that this is a show of optimism from him!! You could say that after Marcille changed him, pushed him to have more hope in him, he now has the strenght and will to hope that this might do anything, that this might save her! A little similar to the situation with his wife actually, the point is that the chance is worth taking even if it might not turn out like hoped for- the point is that it's always worth trying and keeping hope to fight on, there is risk in being vulnerable and reaching out to his wife yes, there is risk, as with jobs, as with finances, as with anything- It's not that you'll never fail, but you have to not give up when you do- there's a risk but you can't just shut yourself off to the world and to relationships, you can't suddenly care about nothing! That's Chilchuck's arc! Do you prefer the risk of trying and failing or the risk of not trying and things being broken forever?

And then the water miracurously spits them out of the crumbling dungeon. He gets up and he runs to marcille fearing she's hurt but no, they're saved, she's fine, they're all alive and out of danger. It worked out. Having hope was right.

(This is an excerpt. Read the full character & arc analysis here!)