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spikedfearn · 16 days

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I Said Just a Little Bit, Then I Got a Taste of It

Chapter II

bjorn x fem!reader

summary: After being transferred to another sector of Jackson's Star you reluctantly befriend a ragtag group of people with the exception of one cocky asshole who knows just how to get under your skin.

On the surface, you hate each other, but after experiencing a particularly harrowing event together, the two of you grow closer than anyone else could ever imagine.

warnings: secret friends with benefits, enemies to lovers, angst, alcohol/drug use, sexual themes, non-linear narrative, side rainkay, trauma bonding, near death experience, brief mention of child abuse, more tags to be added

a/n: a slight correction from the first chapter: I realized after I posted that I wrote Kay being under the influence when she runs after you when she is, in fact, pregnant in this au. I don't know how I whiffed that up when it's a relevant plot point to the story (ￗ﹏ￗ) either way though, I went back and edited the chapter but just in case anyone following this story didn't reread it after I made the changes, I wanted to put a disclaimer here!

tags: @asvtrials

wc: 3.3k

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You remember the night the two of you first met with a stunning amount of clarity.

It took place a few weeks after your compulsory transfer, a result of the mines in sector two having been exhausted of all its valuable resources, the higher-ups deciding to split the colonists inhabiting it among the other five.

Truthfully, you still don't know how to feel about it. Sure, it sucks being uprooted from the only home you've ever known, forced to live in an alien environment, even if it is just another extension of the same colony.

But, on the other hand, it's sorta nice—starting over. Being relocated to somewhere no one knows you, your story. Able to shed your baggage and leave it behind, only bringing with the clothes on your back and the dog tags of your late mother, the only things that truly matter to you.

You're nearing the end of another one of your shifts, sweat gathered in the folds and creases of your body, watching sparks fly off the hard mineral you're drilling into when the girl next to you yanks down her face shield, narrowly turning away from the rock wall to bend over and vomit in the walkway instead.

It’s not unusual for people to get sick while working, the conditions down here are hazardous and the safety equipment provided does little to protect you from the harsh fumes and kicked-up debris. Still, you sympathize, knowing firsthand how miserable it is to try and push through til clock out time.

However the supervisors do not, one of the men patrolling the area to ensure endless labor shouting, “worker #1693! Why have you stopped working?”

The girl lifts her head in response to being reprimanded, the headlamp strapped to her hard hat illuminating the man looming over her, the head of the drill she was still holding stabbed into the soft earth beneath their feet, using it like an impromptu crutch.

“I'm sorry sir,” she coughs, voice rough from the stomach acid and bile she just spewed everywhere, “it's morning sickness—I'm pregnant.”

A wave of compassion comes crashing down over you, everyone else in the immediate vicinity paying no mind as they continue to excavate, wanting to avoid a scolding of their own. Not that you can blame any of them, insubordination at best results in hours lost and at worst, an automatic jail sentence, the only place somehow worse than the mines.

You want to turn a blind eye like the others but—you can't, feeling guilt gnaw at your conscience. Even in the limited light you can tell she's sick, skin pale and glistening with a fresh coat of sweat, chest spasming as she doubles back over and starts to dry heave.

“Well get back to it, we have a quota to fill!” He orders, growing increasingly agitated.

Almost instantly you find the words, “how long do you have left?” leaving your mouth before you can process what you're saying, watching as she looks back to find you.

“What was that?” She asks, using the back of her wrist to wipe the string of spit hanging from her lip, looking so small and so vulnerable, like she's on the verge of passing out. It's enough to make you commit to what you say next.

Pushing the goggles up and over your helmet and the face shield down and away your mouth to unmuffle your voice you repeat, “how long do you have left? Like—how many hours?”

“Four?” She answers, confused, the same supervisor that had warned her moments ago barking, “worker #1251, why aren't you working?!” The threatening buzz of a shock stick now being aimed towards you.

Four hours. You're in the last hour of your own shift, bone-tired and barely hanging on, adding another four after the fact might actually kill you.

With that in mind you find yourself volunteering, looking between her and the guard ready to taze the fuck out of both of you, “I can pick up her hours. Sir.” You tack on, albeit sarcastically.

Her eyes round out in surprise before the skin between her eyebrows wrinkle in confusion, understandably so. It's incredibly rare for a stranger to show humanity in a hellscape like this, where it's every man for himself.

“Why?” She asks, straightening her back out, hand coming up to cup her still flat stomach.

You shrug despite knowing exactly why, not that you'd share that with a complete stranger, replying, “don't worry about it,” before offering, “because I want to,” instead, hoping to avoid any follow up questions.

A pretty smile breaks out across her face, so big her eyes nearly disappear, turning the headlamp attached to her helmet off to get a proper look at you, “thank you so much. Really. I totally owe you one.”

“Sure,” you say, not intending to cash in on that favor at all. You don't want to owe anyone anything or them to owe you.

It's a dangerous thing—caring about someone or something on Jackson's Star. One of the only valuable lessons life in the colony has taught you. Better to lessen the weight of the emotional impact when they inevitably leave. Easier.

Your eyes follow her as she walks the path leading towards the exit, a cute little skip in her step. You can't help but smile, the muscles in your cheeks twitching at the foreign stretch of your mouth. You don't remember the last time you felt one of those on your lips.

The extra time doesn't end up killing you—which sucks, it could've been your ticket out of here.

Morbid humor aside, you can barely move as you head to the clock out station, summoning the last bit of strength you have to heave the drill up on top of the counter, ignoring the loud clang it makes when it hits the metal countertop. If they wanna dock you for the damage fine, you can't find it in you to give a fuck at the moment.

The lady behind the transparent partition checks your equipment back in, the clacking of the keys sounding loud without the constant drilling, being the last miner to leave.

“Worker #1251. Drill returned, no visible damage to report. Twenty hours logged.”

“Wait,” you interrupt, her fingers pausing above the keyboard, eyes still glued to the computer screen, “the four hours. Could you give them to the girl I covered for?”

She looks at you then, like you're high on the fumes circulating through the tunnels. Maybe you are, because who just volunteers to do hard labor? And for free? That and you still have to come back and clock in four hours from now.

“Are you sure?”

Though you don't hesitate to nod before verbalizing, “yeah,” your thoughts straying to the baby she's growing inside of her, “she’s gonna need the hours more than I do.”

It'll be the last nice thing you'll ever do, because you're never doing that shit again, offering to cover for someone else, for someone you don't even know.

Except—you do.

Because the morning sickness doesn't go away for the next two weeks, no matter how little she eats to try and combat it. And, regardless of the front you put on, you have a heart. A heart and a motive, one you plan to keep close to the chest whenever you step up and tell whatever supervisor nearby that you'll take on her workload only to transfer the hours to her at the end of the night.

Her name is Kay. You learn that after the third shift you cover for her when she comes up to you during everyone's designated lunch break, taking a seat on the bench next to you, far away from the others eating together.

You're reluctant to give her yours, preferring to just be a faceless number among the crowd, because knowing each other's names means familiarity, and familiarity means attachment. And you never intended for that to happen, wanting to just keep to yourself after the transfer but Kay looks a little crushed when you don't give it to her the first time she asks so, eventually, you do.

It's fine. It's just your name. This doesn't have to mean anything.

Except—it does.

Opens the door for Kay to start joining you for lunch, to stand next to you while you're working, to start asking you about yourself, wanting to befriend the angel that's come to her rescue the last few weeks. Her words, not yours.

You don't disclose much, keeping your past private the only thing keeping you safe from heartache. From that type of overwhelmingly raw pain only loss can bring and, while you've done your absolute best to pick up the pieces, you'll never be the same.

Shattered glass can be put back together but the cracks will always, always remain.

Kay seems to pick up on it because she doesn't broach the subject again, choosing to redirect her energy by trying to convince you to come hang out with her and her friends instead.

You reject her offer every time she asks, giving out your name is one thing, socializing outside of the mines is something else entirely, but Kay is persistent, annoyingly so. Begs you to come out for just one drink whenever you guys have downtime at work, giving you the puppy dog eyes while she does it, whining and stamping her foot when you inevitably turn her down.

You're sitting together during lunch one day, on the little metal bench you claimed the first night you started working in sector six, eating the same boring sandwich you make before the start of every shift.

However, for the first time in a long time, you feel good today, well-rested, chalking it up to not covering Kay’s shifts over the last three days.

She's roughly two months along and no longer vomiting on the job site, able to work her full shifts for the last seventy two hours, the worst of the morning sickness seemingly over. You're glad she's finally feeling better, and, if you're honest, a little relieved.

Not that Kay ever expected you to cover for her, you know her well enough now to realize that, can noticeably see the gratitude she radiates every time you volunteered, but you would've kept doing it, even if she stayed sick for the remainder of her pregnancy.

“Sooo,” Kay starts, drawing out the o, playing with the bendy straw sticking out of her apple juice box, “the gang and I are gonna hit up a bar tonight.”

“Cool,” you mutter, already seeing where this is going. It's the same tactic she's used the last dozen or so times she's invited you out. “Have fun.”

Kay pouts, her eyes big and pleading, “you should come with, it'll be fun. I'll even buy you a drink so I can properly thank you for easing my stress for a little while.”

“You don't have to thank me Kay,” you reply between bites of bologna, “I didn't do it for free beer.” A chuckle following after.

“C’moooon,” Kay bemoans, wiggling her shoulders for emphasis, “stop being such a buzzkill.”

“Can’t. That's who I am, Captain Buzzkill.” Your words slightly muffled by a napkin you use to wipe your mouth clean once you finish eating, crumpling it up along with the cellophane and brown paper bag you brought your sandwich in.

“Why are you the most stubborn person alive?” She whines, chucking her now empty juice box into a nearby waste bin.

“That’s probably not true.”

“Well you're up there! Now please just come out with us tonight. For me. And if you really don't have a good time I'll never ask again.”

“Never?” You ask, feeling your resolve slowly eroding away.

Her eyes glisten with newfound hope, nodding her head enthusiastically, “never ever.”

“Fine,” you relent, “but just one.”

If this is what it takes for her to stop bugging you about it you'll do it, just this once. Besides, you can slam a beer pretty quick if you're dead set on it.

You smile and roll your eyes at the squeal she makes, her arms wrapping around you to reel you in towards her chest, hands settling on your bicep, one on top of the other, her fingers creating wrinkles in the fabric of your shirt sleeve from how tight she's hugging you.

You awkwardly pat her forearm, not used to receiving affection, “but just one,” you reiterate. If you're gonna do this you're gonna do it on your terms and your terms only.

“Just one,” she echoes, rocking the two of you back and forth, the whistle of the horn above you signaling the end of your lunch break.

One turns into three.

You had every intention to leave after the first but, as much as you hate to admit it, you are having a good time.

Kay’s friends are cool, nice, having welcomed you in with ease, like they’ve known you for a while. In a way they do, Kay having told them about you, what you did for her. You don't think it's a big deal but they seem to think so, what with the warmth they show you from the outset.

“So you're the angel that's been helping my little sis out!” Tyler, Kay’s older brother, greets you cheerfully, pupils dilated from the alcohol, having already started without you, not that you actually care. “A proper little mutha’ Theresa in our midst!”

You snort at that, waving him off, “not really. She's pregnant. I'm not so, I thought I'd just help her out.”

“Well it's really sweet,” Rain chimes in, more reserved than the others, preferring to let everyone else talk. You can already tell the two of you will get along. “Which is pretty rare to find around here.”

Besides Tyler and Rain, there's Rain’s brother Andy and their friend Navarro. Andy, like Rain, is also on the quiet side, the programming he has installed a little outdated. Though Navarro, the resident techxpert, is working on an upgrade, building a chip out of scrap metal and wiring, she scavenges from the local scrapyard.

You're all crowded around one of the dozen or so tables taking up half the floor, the bar brimming with other colonists, knocking back beers or playing darts, the room filled with the sounds of laughter and chatter blending together. It's not a place you would choose to go on your own but it does add another layer of entertainment when you're with the right people.

“I guess,” you reply, cautiously agreeing with Rain, even though you know she's more than correct. It's just hard for you to accept compliments, you're just not used to hearing them and don't think very highly of yourself to begin with.

You finish off the rest of your drink, pulling your leather wallet out of the back pocket of your jeans to order another, but Tyler is quick to stop you.

“Nah—nah,” Tyler says, his hand lifting off the tabletop to wave you off, “don't even,” he pauses to turn away and burp before turning back around to face you again, “don't even trip. I got your tab covered.”

“You sure?” You ask, hesitating to put your money away. It's not like you all are compensated fairly for your slave labor. That and if you let him pay for your drinks, wouldn't you owe him then? No, you reason in your slightly tipsy state, he's paying you back for taking care of Kay, meaning you'll be even and no one will owe anyone anything.

So—you let him buy you more drinks, slowly but surely relaxing, thanks to the alcohol and the easygoing nature of those around you. It's clear how much he cares for Kay by how he's treating you.

It's endearing, you can't deny that. Apparently Rain and Tyler dated for a short period of time, just under a month before Rain realized she was really into Kay. But, instead of getting angry or jealous, Tyler just accepted it, even gave his blessing since Rain was better than the jerk that knocked his sister up anyway.

It's been a good night—a great one, better than you could've ever imagined, but something always has to come along and ruin it. Life just has a funny way of doing that.

“Bjorn, mate!” Tyler yells over the noise, looking towards the front door with his arm waving in the air, flagging someone over, “over here!”

That someone maneuvers around the crowd, appearing at Tyler's side in just under a minute, a grin splitting his face in two as he takes the empty seat next to him, swiping Tyler’s drink to wash down his excitement.

“Good night?” Tyler jokes, taking in Bjorn’s appearance, currently vibrating on the bar stool he's sitting on, his attention focused solely on his cousin.

“I'm fuckin’ buzzin’ mate! I finally beat that stupid fuckin’ level,” he begins, launching into a tirade about some game he's been playing for awhile, hands coming up to wildy gesticulate as he speaks.

Your eyes are automatically drawn to him, analyzing his side profile while he's distracted. He's attractive, probably one of the most attractive men you've ever laid eyes on. From his under plucked brows to the oceanic hue of his irises, the single silver hoop threaded through his ear and the silly little frowny face tattoo on his neck down to the plushness of his pretty pink lips, framed by just the right amount of facial hair. He's perfect. Perfect until he opens his big fucking mouth.

He finally registers who's sitting around the table, eyes angrily narrowing when he zeroes in on Andy, gaze flickering over to Rain, “why tha’ fuck did you bring this rust bucket ‘ere?”

“Bjorn,” both Rain and Tyler preemptively warn, like they know what's about to follow and they probably do, considering he's Tyler’s cousin. Rain takes the lead on this one, adding, “don’t start.”

“And why tha’ fuck not? Ya’ fuckin’ knew how I'd feel if he was ‘ere! Ida’ just stayed tha’ fuck home,” he hisses, accent made thicker by his anger.

Tyler pinches the bridge of his nose, looking exasperated by his cousin already, “we just wanted to come for a pint mate. All of us. No use losin’ your head over it.”

“Right. Right. No use. Just like this hunka junk synth.”

You’ve never had a filter, never needed one when you've grown up never having to consider someone else's feelings so you can't help but snark, “do you practice being an asshole in the mirror or does it just come naturally to you?”

You feel everyone’s eyes on you, probably taken aback by your intervention, not expecting you, a total stranger, to speak up on behalf of Andy. But—you've never been good at biting your tongue, never needed to when you only have yourself to worry about, overconfident in voicing your displeasure when you're the only one who'll be punished for it, unlike those with familial connections who talk back to the higher-ups.

“And who tha’ bloody fuck are you?” He spits, face souring like he's bit into a lemon, looking you up and down, from the flat tabletop that sits under your breasts up to your hairline.

“Not a piece of shit like you,” you retort, squeezing the unopened beer Tyler bought for you, hard enough to crease the label wrapped around the circumference of the glass.

“So!” Tyler interrupts, trying to change the subject, directing his attention to you, “why’d it take ya so long to come out and join us?”

Kay squeezes your knee under the table and Rain looks grateful, reassuring a somewhat confused Andy that he's more than welcome to be here, that he isn't bothering anyone that isn't a totally immature man baby.

“Not really my scene,” you answer, ignoring the crisp hiss of the carbon dioxide being released when you pop the lid on the glass bottle Tyler bought you.

“Oh! Not good enough for ya’ princess?” Bjorn mocks, still simmering with anger from his side of the table.

“No, just not good enough for you, asshat,” you flip him off, still pissed on behalf of Rain and Kay and any girl that has to interact with him, feeling Kay’s fingers curl around your shoulders like she's trying to stop you.

You decide to let it go, for now, despite how angry you are, for Kay, sticking it out until she warns you it's time to leave. Because other than that—fuck that guy

#I'm sorry i cut it off before it got good again #but it was getting sooo long #it'll be hot and heavy next chapter #if you wanna be tagged just lmk #bjorn alien romulus x reader #bjorn alien romulus #bjorn x reader #alien romulus #spike fearn

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rollinouttahere-writes · 8 months

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What about monsters au or maybe a fairy au

These have yandere themes to them from when this was supposed to be part of a Halloween event, but I decided to keep it that way because I like it. The first paragraph lightly explains what they are, the second is a reader-insert scenario.

Yandere Straw Hats Monster AU

2.3k words

Monkey D. Luffy - Faerie

Luffy has some intense fae vibes in my humble opinion. He’s chaotic, marches to the beat of his own drum, and he’s prone to dragging people into lifelong friendships that they CANNOT escape from. Luffy finds other fae to be rather uppity, and he prefers the company of humans. They’re so funny and weird! Plus he likes their food. Luffy comes from a very powerful bloodline, though people tend to forget about this fact until it’s too late and they’ve already provoked him.

One day when you’re out foraging, you almost step inside a fairy ring. You count your lucky stars that you didn’t and turn to leave and give the ring a wide margin, but a voice comes from behind you. A faerie is casually sitting in the circle and asks if he could have some of your food. Not wanting to upset him, you toss the snacks you brought for the day to him. He all but demands that you come to visit him once in a while, and you’re forced to abide. Refusing would upset him, but agreeing and then not keeping your word would be even worse. Fortunately, as you continue to meet with him, you find him to be awfully kind and fun for a faerie. You begin to look forward to these meetings. When he asks one day if you’re his friend, it’s only natural for you to say yes. A big mistake, you would quickly come to realize. By agreeing that you’re his friend, you’ve unwittingly given him ownership of yourself. But it’s okay! You two will have lots of fun along with all of his other friends!

Roronoa Zoro - Werewolf/Barghest

Another case of vibes, Zoro just screams werewolf to me. The barghest is a monstrous black dog originating from English mythology, with some sources claiming that a wound inflicted by its claws will never heal. I’ve combined this creature with a werewolf to make it a bit more interesting. When Zoro transforms, he takes on a grotesque and massive wolf-like shape with green fur. He’s capable of standing on two legs, but walking on all four feels much more natural in this state.

Zoro is a renowned monster hunter, as well as a close colleague of yours. After working with him for years, it’s deeply concerning to you when he comes back from a mission only to seal himself away in his home and refuse to interact with anyone. You try to be patient with him, but as time goes on, you NEED to get to the bottom of what happened. He’s been holed up for over a month, so you figure that he must be leaving in the night to get food and water. As you’re lying in wait in a nearby shed, rather than seeing him leave, you hear crashing and yelling coming from his home. Without thinking, you rush in. You don’t know if he’s being attacked or what, but you can’t leave him to suffer. It takes some effort to break the door down, but you do. The home is in shambles. Furniture is ripped to shreds, holes have been punched in the walls, and there are claw marks everywhere. Your attention turns to the writhing mass of limbs and fur in the corner. The moonlight illuminates the room just enough for you to recognize the shade of green the fur is, and your heart falls into your stomach when the creature turns to look at you. There’s a scar over the left eye. Before you have a chance to process this gut wrenching information, he’s on you. As he’s snarling over you, you wonder if you’ll be able to bring yourself to kill your friend before he can kill you.

Nami - Kitsune

Kitsunes are highly intelligent, cunning, and mischievous. All of these traits fit Nami perfectly. She is still quite young for a kitsune and only has two tails so far. In order to make some easy money, she establishes herself at a shrine and demands tribute, primarily in the form of money, though she will also accept fine jewelry and kimonos.

The shrine she occupies happens to be the one your family cares for, making you her personal shrine maiden. Well, shrine maiden in training. In the beginning, you’re run ragged trying to accommodate such a demanding spirit. Once Nami is confident that you are a good match for her, she relaxes somewhat, but demands near constant attention. You’re unable to eat with your family because she wants you to eat with her instead. Opportunities to see friends are consistently shot down by her requesting that you brush her hair/fur for her or other mundane tasks. It was a little flattering at first to have a prestigious spirit favoring you, but it rapidly becomes draining. It isn’t truly your place to be asking her questions, but you do anyway. Why is she so dedicated to taking up every second of your time? You aren’t even a proper shrine maiden yet, doesn’t she want someone more experienced assisting her? Nami giggles at your inquiry and pets your head in a way that feels more than a little condescending. She explains that it only makes sense for her to be focused on you. Your initiation ceremony is coming up, and those play out like wedding ceremonies more or less. Of course she’s going to favor the person who is about to essentially be offered as a spouse to her.

Usopp - Drider/Anansi

Anansi is a popular figure in Akan mythology and is strongly associated with storytelling. He’s known for being a bit of a trickster, but also a hero and extremely cunning. I’ve combined this with a drider to make him more humanoid, but he is also capable of shapeshifting when he so pleases. Usopp has a reputation for being troublesome, but ultimately helpful. Sure, he drives the locals up the wall some days, but he’s willing to step up into a heroic role when necessary.

Usopp had been dwelling near your village for a while now, longer than he normally would. He just can’t help it though, you’re one of his favorite people to tell his tales to. You never question the validity of what he’s saying or roll your eyes, you just eagerly listen to his stories with a sparkle in your eyes the whole time. When he’s causing trouble, you take it on the chin and laugh it off. He falls fast and he falls hard. Slowly, he starts to incorporate scarier stories into his repertoire. To make sure that you fully believe what he’s telling you, he’ll shapeshift into various forms and lurk around just barely in the corner of your vision, only to flee when you whip around to investigate. When you vent to him about how frightened you’ve been as of late, he’s quick to offer a solution. Why don’t you come with him? He’ll bring you somewhere safe and keep all the monsters away from you. Doesn’t that sound perfect?

Sanji - Yaoguai

I bounced around with a lot of different monsters before eventually settling on this one. A yaoguai is a type of demon from Chinese mythology. Though technically, he’s only half-demon. His father was a god turned demon who was banished from Heaven by the Jade Emperor when he became too arrogant in his power and miserably failed in defending an important artifact. Ever since then, he has been desperate to regain his godhood and has resorted to trying to make supremely powerful warriors of his children. Their mother was a human who was forcibly taken and used in their creation. Sanji suffered a lot of cruelty for being the weakest of his siblings, with the only kindness he ever received being from his human mother (as well as a certain chef after he ran away from home). It’s unsurprising that he strongly prefers the company of humans to demons.

That also means that in his quest to find true love, he’s only looking at humans. Unlike his father, he desperately wants to have a loving, mutual relationship. He tries so hard, but his courtships always end the same way. Everything seems great in the beginning, they’re happy, they’re falling in love. The problem is that all of these begin with him taking on the appearance of a normal human. He wants to be open and honest with what he’s hoping will be the love of his life, so when it’s gotten serious and marriage is brought up, he reveals his true form. Every time, every single time, they scream and run away in horror. Sanji has lost track of how many times he’s been chased out of a village after doing this. He’s getting desperate. By the time he ventures into your town, he’s made up his mind to not tell the next person. At least not before the wedding. Even if you scream and cry and say that you hate him, he’ll make you stay with him long enough to see that he’s the same Sanji that you fell in love with even if he does look different now. He isn’t going to hurt or eat you, you just need some time to realize that. After you have, everything will be fine. At least so he hopes.

Tony Tony Chopper - Leshy (there are so many spellings I’m sorry if this isn’t the right one)

A Leshy is a type of guardian deity for forests from Slavic mythology. They rule over and protect their given forest, and their attitudes towards people imposing on it can really vary based on where the legends originate from and how the intruders act in the forest. They are able to take the form of anything in the forest and imitate woodland noises. It’s anyone’s guess how they will handle a human wandering into their domain. Maybe they��ll be lighthearted and playful, or maybe that person won’t ever be seen again. They’re very ambiguous. Chopper leans towards the more lighthearted side of things. He’s very shy towards most humans, but can become angry and lash out if they do something he doesn’t approve of.

Living right on the edge of a massive forest can certainly be nerve wracking, but you do your best to make it work. You did everything in your power to avoid potentially upsetting whatever Leshy is inhabiting the forest, and it seems your efforts worked… Perhaps a little too well. It started with seeing a bizarre deer-like creature amongst your livestock or outside your windows. Then you started hearing things. One day you could have sworn a terrible thunderstorm rolled in abruptly, only to dash outside and see nothing but clear skies. Eventually, the Leshy got bold enough to approach you directly. You knew you should have been distressed to have such a deity so close to you, but it was hard to be scared of such a small and cute creature. Chopper seems so youthful and childlike that you can’t help but grow fond of his little visits. Then he starts pushing for you to visit him. He has a home at the center of the forest and he desperately wants to show it to you. It couldn’t hurt to go just once, right?

Nico Robin - Harpy/Gamayun

The Gamayun is a prophetic bird with the head of a human woman from Russian mythology that is said to know literally everything and to spread prophecies and divine messages. Again, I’ve combined this with a Harpy for the sake of giving her a more humanoid form. While some people appreciate the endless knowledge Robin possesses, others fear and want to repress it. Robin can rarely stay in the same area for long without worrying about an attempt on her life.

It’s after an almost successful murder attempt that she meets you. One of her wings was shot, leaving her unable to fly away. When you suddenly appear and usher her into your home, she is highly suspicious of your intentions, but she goes along with it because she feels like she has no other option. Much to her surprise, you misguide the people hunting her and then tend to her wounds. As time goes by and she stays put while she’s still healing, she is shocked at how you never once ask her for information or prophecies. You’re being kind to her… because you want to? And you expect nothing in return? It’s unheard of for her. By the time she’s healed, she’s completely enraptured by you. She can’t go back to her perpetual solitude now that she’s gotten a taste of kinship. You must feel the same. You have to feel the same.

Franky - Talos

Talos was a giant bronze statue built by Hephaestus to guard the island of Crete in Greek mythology. His main job is to drive off pirates and other enemies by hurling boulders at them. For the sake of this AU, let’s say that rather than dying, he is simply subdued and ultimately lives. Franky feels lost and like a failure. He leaves Crete to set up shop on a new island where he takes it upon himself to take misfits under his wing. He doesn’t want other people to feel the way he does, so he does his best to take care of them and give them a sense of purpose.

Admittedly, you haven’t made the best decisions in life, that’s a given. Being a petty thief and general troublemaker is hardly anything to brag about, but it’s your life and you’ll do what you want. That is, until some giant bronze behemoth snatches you up and declares himself your mentor. He isn’t even giving great advice, it looks like he’s herding cats when he tries to get all of the local hellions to work together to better their lives. Unfortunately for you, not only can you not escape him, the others are buying into it and trying to drag you down with them.

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shyravenns · 1 year

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NikPrice headcanons that I wrote at 2am

. Price doesn't bother to say much to Soap or Ghost about their relationship since they so often remind him of Nikolai and himself. He sees the same level of codependence and rapid-fire intensity that they display towards each other, and he can't help but think of the gold necklace that's neatly tucked in his shirt.

- No such thing as a slow burn for these two. If you thought Ghost and Soap were codependent then you haven't met young!nikprice. They got better as they got older, but You Can Tell

- met in a scary forest, nik got a knife held to his throat, and Price woke up three hours later in an abandoned shed with their clothes scattered everywhere god bless 🙏

- both of them have scary dog privileges

- no matter where he is, Price will always look up at the sound of a helicopter and watch it until it fades into the distance.

. Price doesn't believe in soulmates, but he remembers to thank whatever God must be out there for putting him and Nik in that God forsaken forest where they both met each other.

. They absolutely fail at pretending to be excited when they see each other. Soap snickers as Price damn near refuses to take his eyes off of Nik vs Farah who rolls her eyes at the goofy smile Nik has plastered to his face when he sees Price. They're like *children*.

- Price is a boydad and Nik is a girldad go argue with the wall

. Price so blatantly loves the faint grey hairs that are slowly beginning to grow on Nik's belly. It's a reminder that they're still alive, and that maybe that happy ending is just on the horizon for them both. He wants to grow old with him.

- Nik, who is so gleeful at the faint grey hairs that have began to show in Price's beard over the years.

- got married in a run down chapel with a priest that Nik may or may not have threatened with a knife

- they have mastered the art of silent conversations much to everyone's annoyance.

- Nik is a romantic, and if you see Price with different flowers on his desk every Friday then no you didn't.

- both of them have shot each other, and no one knows the full story (Nik has told several different versions every time someone asks)

- they hibernate in the winter or at least they try to lmao (they both love naps). There's no little spoon or big spoon, just pass out on the bed and pray that neither of them fall out.

- dear God the snores that come from the both of them 💀

- He was his King, and God help anyone who dared to disrespect his King 😤😤😤

- They both enable each other lmao they're both several shades of unhinged, and honestly it's what makes the sex between them better

- my personal au is that Nik eventually gets hurt to the point where he can't go on missions anymore, and Price does not hesitate to step back from being in the field to take care of him. He's tired, and if this is the final push for him to lay down his weapons then so be it.

- They know each others moods as innately as they would their own. Nik can read the lines of exhaustion on Price's face as clearly as ever, and Price knows the deeper meaning behind every single one of Nik's "jokes"

- Price surprising Nik with his own new identity, and taking his last name 🥺 As if Nik would ever give up his last name "Price"

- would kill for each other 100% don't even have to ask twice.

- they like to fish, but honestly Price just likes it when Nik begins telling another one of his stories while he sits back and listens to the sound of his voice and gentle waves of lake at their quaint little cabin

- Not the best cooks, but they try! Have definitely taken a cooking class together with mixed (aka illegal) results.

- Alpha/Alpha coded im not sorry

#thats all i have bc im tired #nikprice #nikolai cod #price cod #john price #hc #cod mwii #inkove these two so much #call of duty

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dilfmobius · 30 days

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i need to put this somewhere because it is just rotting in my google docs lmfao

anyway i was literally inspired by @natendo-art every time i see their mobius art and he has nipple piercings fgdkgfskgfks big fan 10/10 no notes

this is just a snippet of a fic that was supposed to be strictly pwp but oops i needed loki to have a feelings crisis and it's kinda getting away from me and i haven't even gotten go the smut yet fjhfjfhkgdskd :)

Loki first notices when he and Mobius get back from a field op. They’re both soaking, caught in a torrential downpour, and it’s inevitable; their sopping wet clothes clinging to their skin, leaving almost nothing to the imagination. Of course Loki was going to notice. Mobius wastes no time ushering himself and Loki through a time door into his apartment. “Why doesn’t the stupid tempad track weather patterns?” Loki shakes his head, wet hair flying, water going everywhere. “I mean, really, how—“ His words stop on the tip of his tongue as he finally sees Mobius, who has already shed his suit jacket. His dress shirt is stuck to his skin and Loki can’t tear his eyes away from the agent’s chest. Staring right back at him are Mobius’ nipples; more importantly, two identical piercings. Little ball bearings poking through the fabric, on either side of each of Mobius’ nipples. Loki’s mouth goes dry. “Hey, can you not shake like a wet dog, please?” Mobius says. “I’m gonna go grab us a couple towels, and toss this in the tub.” He waves his jacket as he walks down the hall towards the bathroom. Loki is left standing there in the foyer to Mobius’ home, the image of Mobius, soaking wet, with nipple piercings. And it completely ruins him. —- Loki doesn’t stop thinking about it, he can’t stop thinking about it. They’re sat across from each other at their usual table in the archives; Loki can’t stop staring at Mobius’ chest. They have their meals together, again, sitting across from one another, Mobius’ legs tangled in between Loki’s long ones under the table. Loki fixates on where Mobius’ jacket hangs over his pecs, fantasizing. During a briefing, surrounded by Hunters and Minutemen, as Mobius and B-15 go over the mission, Loki practically leers in Mobius’ direction. He sees how the fabric of Mobius’ shirt shifts and now Loki notices how it catches on the small metal beads, hyper aware of what the agent is hiding. Luckily, it seems as though he’s just staring off into space. It consumed Loki’s every waking thought. “Hey, you okay?” Mobius asks after the briefing. His voice is quiet and gentle, only for Loki to hear. Loki clears his throat and tears his eyes away from the agent’s chest, opting to look him in the face instead. “W-what?” Loki asks. Nice. Mobius looks at him, a bit quizzically. “Where have you been lately? I know my briefings aren’t the most exciting, but you seemed to be far off somewhere.” Loki shakes his head. “I’m fine, just.. got a lot on my mind.” Mobius’ face twists in confusion, but he catches himself, and asks, “Anything I can help with?” Oh, yes, please, Loki thinks. “It’s nothing really, don’t worry about it,” he says, instead. Mobius looks like he’s about to reply but B-15 cuts him off, calling for everyone to ready up and move out. “Duty calls,” Mobius says.

i'm working on this little by little with a couple other lokius fics so finger crossed i can finish it dghksgkdgfs.

#lokius #loki laufeyson #mobius m mobius #loki series #just screaming into the void #this is just me trying to jump back into fandom after being inactive in every sense of the word for like 4 years dfghsgdkfsdf #i miss writing fic 😭#mine: fic

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would-this-pokemon-be-a-friend · 10 months

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Evolution Line Spotlight: Zorua & Zoroark (570-571)

For our first evolution line spotlight, we’ve got a pretty severe rank gap. It’s interesting, because zoruas and zoroarks have pretty similar personalities. A lot of it comes down to size: zoruas are a much more manageable size, so this evolution line’s move set is a lot less formidable coming from them. They also don’t have quite as formidable claws as their evolution.

As I talked about in each of the two’s personal posts [linked below], they both have some pretty powerful illusion abilities, but they use them in different ways. In the wild, when these two evolution stages are found living together, zoroarks act like the protectors, so their illusions are a lot more in-your-face. They like to disguise their lairs, where the more vulnerable zoruas hide, with scary illusions, while the little guys mostly just disguise themselves to avoid attention. Both of these things are gonna be kinda awkward for a pet, but I reckon that having a pet disguise your entire home is gonna really annoy your neighbors. And good luck getting mailmen to drop off packages near your home, if they can even find it. They’d be great to have around at Halloween time, though.

This is a bit of a random side-note but I wonder how badly this species sheds. I know someone with a dog with black fur that gets absolutely everywhere to a really bothersome extent. Both evolutions of the species have a lot of fur, but again I’ve got to look to zoroark as the potentially worse offender. I could imagine that mane shedding a lot. I mean, when you think about it, they have like five feet of hair. People with fur allergies might have a big issue with that. I’d also like to reference a comment left on the original zoroark post by @shrimpmandan: zoruas and zoroarks are foxes, and foxes are STINKY! I wouldn’t be surprised if their illusions can cover their smell for survival purposes, but when you’re at home they’re probably not always going to be in illusion-mode. Bathing them, especially zoroarks, if going to be a whole ordeal.

If I had to recommend one stage of this pokémon as a pet, I’d definitely go with zorua. If you live somewhere with a strict landlord, HOA, or something like that, it’s probably going to be a lot easier to convince them to let you have one for a lot of reasons. I mean, let’s be honest, there’s probably a prejudice against dark-type pokémon as pets in a lot of places since they’re often associated with “evil”: your better chance at getting permission to have one is the cuter, less dangerous kind. I definitely don’t think zoroarks would be a terrible pet or anything, but they’re a particularly tough one to get social acceptance of. If you’re already an owner of a zorua, I wouldn’t recommend evolving them unless you have the space (of course) and are confident that the people you live around won’t be too put off by it. That being said, so long as you don’t get kicked out or anything, you don’t always have to worry about what other people think.

Would I personally have a zorua or a zoroark as a pet? Probably not. I think they’re really neat, but I think I’d have a hard time dealing with their illusions. I have a lot of sensory issues that I think could be aggravated by being constantly confronted with stimuli that I know is false. Also the shedding and the smell. All respect to the prospective zorua or zoroark owners out there! ❤️

Zorua Post: https://www.tumblr.com/would-this-pokemon-be-a-friend/734002549347287040/can-zorua-and-zoroark-being-good-pet-they-maybe-a?source=share

Zoroark Post: https://www.tumblr.com/would-this-pokemon-be-a-friend/730103133132455936/i-wonder-would-a-zoroark-either-the-unovan-or?source=share

#pokémon #pokemon #zorua #zoroark #pkmn irl

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kangals · 8 months

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Congrats on puppy!! Is there a reason you wanted another rough vs smooth? Preference? The chance of two dogs with surfer bro bangs?

just preference! this particular breeder actually breeds mostly smooths so i would have made things easier on myself if i didn't care, but i'm stubborn lol. i do definitely like smooth collies, but i think roughs have a much more striking appearance. and being able to bury your hands/face into that ruff is glorious.

im definitely jealous of the lower grooming needs of the smooths, but i actually prefer the shedding of long-haired dogs over short. it's the same amount of hairs, but short hairs are stiff and fly up everywhere and stick into things like a million little eyelashes, vs long hair tends to sort of clump together and sink. one of my co-workers has a gorgeous smooth but every time i touch that dog i'm brushing little stiff hairs off me for hours. i'm fine with trading that for an extra half-hour of grooming per week.

#i'm shallow and like having a dog that people think is pretty #and ough man if youve never buried yourself in collie ruff. you're missing out.#i would LOVE another surfer bangs dog but tbh i've only ever seen bangs on sables so im not optimistic

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gotafewtricks · 11 months

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Holy shit Hc's for a Kitsune!reader w kiriko? I think it'd be so funny and cute with how her spirit animal and reader might interact with each other 💀💀

Also hope you're having a good day!

(Might send a crap load of requests cause my brain can't stop coming up with things 😭)

★ O' fox spirit...

Hey !! I love getting requests, and if you're the same anon that requested Genji with a dog!reader, then I'll call you silly animal anon lmao :3 unless if you want to assign yourself w/ a name, that is!

With first impressions, Kiriko would've been pretty pumped about it all!

It wasn't an everyday occurrence that you'd see a yōkai out and about. If you are taking on a human form, then she'd know not to cross with you—not just because of your heritage, but because she knew wise you were! As she has practiced under many ceremonies relating towards the kitsune, she understood the nuances of those mythical creatures; how elegant, yet sly they were with their cunning attitudes.

Kiriko would be very understanding of many things, and would not go around and tell everyone that you were a kitsune—considering her most loyal companion is one, and there'd be no use in letting really anyone know about that without your permission—if you were secretive about it.

She'd love to know how you were doing, and would equally love the chance to strike up some small talk.

The girl would laugh at the silly interactions between you and her companion, always wondering what'll happen next.

Her fox friend would be very interested, I'm sure! I like to imagine that it doesn't appear very often, only in times of need (such as combat) then it'll be summoned. Or, around the comfort of Kiriko and her family. Not everyday you'll see a ghost, eh?

That's how she'd know that you were a kitsune; if you did not have anything outright screaming at her that you were one. If you didn't have the tail(s), ears, or a mask (though, she understood that people may wear them for just apparel), judging by the energy you give off—Kiriko would sense something. Also, it's terribly obvious if her kitsune is also reacting to it, as well.

If you were comfortable with turning into your animal form, she'd then lovingly sigh, as she's crouch down to level the height of the two foxes before her. She'd jokingly chide the two of you to behave; which you two do... sometimes. Causing mischief has never been more fun!

Kiriko would always respect you, and understand if you ever need your time and space. Spirits get busy, and she gets busy—so, it's only fair for her to try her best to ensure that you're okay.

She knows that you can take care of yourself; without needing anyone's help. Judging by your abilities and powers, you were older than the oldest businesses here in Japan that she could think of. If you needed help with anything whatsoever, specifically in reference to adjusting towards human life, she'd do her best!

If you were reluctant with interacting with others, she understands. Humanity is pretty terrifying at times; especially with the Hashimoto now clogging up the streets of Kanezaka. Kiriko would say that, even if those criminal organizations keep up piling on and on, if you were to try and persevere, and focus on the good you're doing now—it's worth it in the end. Even if you just make a few people smile, it's still worth it; even for those few people.

Kiriko would be all up for causing some fun-loving trouble, however, she will back out if things get too dicey. If you wanted to help her with the current yakuza problem, then sure! She'd hate to rope you into something that you may not want to get involved in, so she would want your ultimate consent.

Hanging out with her would be so fun! You're surprised by how she is able to think of so, so many things.

Having trouble with cleaning? She understands! Either that's helping you pick out the best shampoos for your fur, or brushing out and straightening it all—she's got you. Though, be careful about shedding everywhere...

Want to go win some costume contests for Halloween? You guys could go as, well, kitsunes together! Though, Kiriko may say that she'd rather go as something else; knowing she could excell in such a costume, the fox spirit, so she'll dress up as other things—witch, fortune teller, or cosplays from her favourite animes.

All in all, she would adore to have you—even if her hands were already full with her current fox, she's lucky to've been able to meet you.

#overwatch x reader #ow x reader #kiriko x reader #kiriko kamori x reader #kiriko yamagami x reader #x reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #overwatch headcanons #req #reqs open

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scriveyner · 2 years

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always summer #13

always summer #13: frotting | bungou stray dogs |👿🐯 | #kinktober 🔞| ~1500 words

Atsushi clung to the side of the overturned rowboat, claws dug into the old wood, and laughed. He had avoided getting brained by the oar Akutagawa was wielding, attempting to keep him from overturning the boat trying to climb back into it, but had not, in fact, avoided him overturning the boat.

Contiune on ao3 or:

Akutagawa was clinging to the other side, cursing inventively, and it made Atsushi laugh even harder. “Does Rashomon not work when you’re wet?” Atsushi asked, sides heaving and treading water.

“Do not tempt me, else I send her through your heart, weretiger!”

Atsushi snorted, still snickering audibly. “Sorry.”

“Sorry? Sorry? I told you not to stand upright, and your tiny cat brain apparently doesn’t have the processing power to understand even the smallest concepts--!” Akutagawa cut himself off with a racking cough, and Atsushi’s amusement twinged into worry.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” He didn’t sound fine, coughing again heavily, and Atsushi transitioned from treading water to kicking, heading the capsized boat toward the nearest swatch of dry land, a stretch of sandy dirt tucked away between two enormous old trees. Akutagawa didn’t complain again until his feet touched the ground, and he staggered out of the water, shedding moisture into the air as Rashomon absorbed the liquid saturating his clothes.

Atsushi beached the boat and flipped it, checking where his tiger claws had dug into the hull and making certain he didn’t accidentally penetrate the wood. Akutagawa said nothing, hand over his mouth and watching the muscles tense in Atsushi’s arms when he so casually turned over the heavy, water-logged craft.

“Well, that could have gone better,” Atsushi said, soaked through, ankle-deep in water and hands on his hips. Akutagawa’s ire rose again. “At least we hadn’t caught any fish yet.”

“You are an idiot,” Akutagawa hissed, arms folded. Atsushi rubbed his hand through his dripping wet hair and grinned sheepishly, which only seemed to incense Akutagawa further because his face had pinked significantly.

“Could have been worse,” Atsushi said.

“How?”

“Could have lost the boat.” He nudged the beached craft with his bare foot. “Oh, shoot. Our lunch was in the cooler. That should float, I’ll go get it.”

Before Akutagawa could open his mouth Atsushi splashed back out into the water, swimming almost effortlessly. There were a few bits of detritus floating about, including the cooler with their lunch, and Atsushi dragged back to shore what he could. Akutagawa kicked around the hardscrabble dirt/sand mix and finally found a seat on a downed tree trunk. He scowled as Atsushi splashed out of the water again, holding their recovered items.

“Lunch,” he called gleefully, dropping the cooler just past the water line. He shook his head, spraying water everywhere, and proceeded to drip all over creation as he marched over toward Akutagawa, damp and yet in dry clothing. “Are you sure you’re okay? You were coughing bad, did you inhale water?”

“I cough,” Akutagawa said. “Stop worrying about me and worry about how I’m going to mount your head on a decorative plaque when we return to the cabin instead.”

“You’ll feel better once you eat something,” Atsushi fished a miraculously dry sandwich out of a Ziploc bag in the somehow watertight cooler. He presented the food to Akutagawa, who grudgingly took it, and then stripped out of his damp clothing right in front of him.

Akutagawa held the sandwich with both hands, already forgotten as he stared at Atsushi. “What…what are you doing, weretiger?”

“I’m soaked,” Atsushi complained. “I’ll let my clothes dry in the sun while we eat.”

“That will take hours.”

Atsushi shrugged, spreading his clothing over a branch in the sunlight, completely naked. “What, did you have somewhere else to be?”

He fished a sandwich for himself out of the cooler and then used it as his seat, munching away happily. Akutagawa looked at his own sandwich, and then at Atsushi, before looking away angrily and taking a sullen bite.

Atsushi seemed happily oblivious. Some of what he’d rescued was the fishing poles, and the tackle box—after filling his belly he got to work setting up the poles and casting away from the shore, standing in the water up to mid-thigh and humming as he fished. Akutagawa found other things to look at for a while before he gave up and stared at Atsushi’s behind.

“I can feel you staring at my butt,” Atsushi said, and Akutagawa flushed red angrily. Atsushi looked back over his shoulder at Akutagawa and grinned, happy and open, and…comfortable. He was comfortable, standing there with his back to Akutagawa, humming as he fished, completely vulnerable to any method of attack should Akutagawa choose to end their accords.

Akutagawa swallowed and looked away, but found his eyes drawn back to Atsushi, the sun washing over his shoulders and showing off the muscles in his back. Before he even realized it, Rashomon acted, looping around Atsushi’s waist loosely and tugging him insistently back toward the shore.

“You made me drop my pole,” Atsushi said, one hand wrapped around Rashomon, but untransformed. “This better be good!”

Akutagawa stood and came forward, Rashomon still looped around Atsushi’s hips like a belt. Atsushi raised his eyebrows as Akutagawa looked him up and down, then sighed, audibly, slumping his shoulders. “God damn it,” Akutagawa said, finally, and Rashomon loosened and dissipated.

Atsushi made a noise of confusion, a verbal question mark, and Akutagawa put his palm against the center of Atsushi’s chest, feeling how warm his skin was from standing in the sun, and the strong beat of his heart. Atsushi put his hand over Akutagawa’s, threaded their fingers together, and lifted Akutagawa’s hand to his mouth, brushing his lips over Akutagawa’s knuckles.

“Stupid,” Akutagawa breathed; because he didn’t know what else to say; his other hand flailed to the back of Atsushi’s neck as he was pulled in close, and then they were kissing in the late summer sun.

More time passed than either of them noticed, although Akutagawa had staggered backward, back to his tree trunk and Atsushi had followed, kissing him still hungrily, both hands framing his body and braced on the soft wood of the felled tree.

They didn’t have anything to use for lubrication out here. Akutagawa bit Atsushi’s bottom lip as he drew back slightly, panting audibly, and said, insistently, “so we don’t use lube—”

“Are you kidding, no,” Atsushi said, mouth just barely out of reach of Akutagawa’s. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I don’t fucking care,” Akutagawa groaned, both hands on Atsushi’s hips, fingernails scouring red marks into his skin. “I want it to hurt, I want you to hurt me, please, I need you to—” he tried to follow Atsushi’s head as he jerked it back but couldn’t go that far, held against the tree trunk by the press of Atsushi’s body. “Atsushi.”

“No,” Atsushi said, softly.

Rashomon erupted from Akutagawa’s clothes, tendrils wrapping around his neck and shoulders, but Atsushi didn’t budge. He didn’t even seem to notice the ability constraining him, eyes locked on Akutagawa’s; he slid his hand down Akutagawa’s side, pushing the waistband of his shorts over the sharp jut of his hip. Akutagawa gripped Atsushi’s arm, fingers curled into his biceps as Atsushi freed him from his shorts.

“I’ve got you,” Atsushi said in that same soft tone, stroking Akutagawa slowly. “I’ve got you.”

Bare hip to bare hip, Atsushi’s cock against his, warm hand wrapped around them both, stroking slow and measured. Akutagawa panted, eyes locked on Atsushi, and Atsushi didn’t look away from him.

It was a lot, Atsushi’s weight pressing him into the tree, his hand tight around their cocks, fluid slicking together making each stroke easier; Atsushi’s hips rocked a little and Akutagawa groaned, mouth open.

Atsushi leaned in, but not for a kiss. He breathed against Akutagawa’s ear, “I don’t ever want to hurt you, Ryuunosuke. You deserve better than that.”

Akutagawa let out a small, choked sob, and came all over Atsushi’s hand, his fingernails drawing blood. Atsushi didn’t release him, kept his hand tight around them both but started thrusting his cock into his hand, rubbing through the fluid dripping between them until he pushed over the edge himself, the overspill patterning the dirt between their feet.

He shoved Atsushi with both hands, swallowing hard. “What the fuck, weretiger, you can’t just say shit like that—”

Akutagawa was cut off by Atsushi’s mouth on his, and he gave in immediately and didn’t fight it, kept kissing him until they both were more than breathless, Atsushi’s weight against him more a crutch now because he wasn’t sure he could stay on his feet.

They sat in the hard-packed dirt on the edge of the water, watching the lake ripple and gently wash the shore. Akutagawa’s shorts joined Atsushi’s clothing on the sun-warmed branch, though he at least still had his shirt hanging open on his shoulders.

Akutagawa looked away, arms folded, but then leaned against Atsushi. “That still doesn’t get you off the hook for capsizing the fucking boat,” he said, finally, and Atsushi laughed, sticking his legs straight out so the water washed over his feet.

#bungou stray dogs #kinktober #sskk #shin soukoku #lemony fresh

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kisskida · 7 months

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Bleeding

-Megumi x reader/oc

tw: extreme angst, rape and non-con mentions, assault and murder

-Blood doesn't have to be weeping red liquids. We are all bleeding on each other in one way or another as we roam the earth, spending our entire lives searching for a purpose. We cry to know we are alive, and we bleed to know we are living. The tears we shed are our souls bleeding as we destroy ourselves and the blood we shed is our bodies telling us we have fought for our destruction

The darkness cannot possibly consume us all, or perhaps I used to think that way; I used to believe that. My eyes stung as lumps of dirt clung to my face, my skin rubbing raw against the isolated path. "Please, please let me just..." my muscles screamed at me as I scrambled to my knees, pleading to the heavy work boot in front of me, a leering snarl above it, belonging to an icy, sharp face twisted in rage, with a mop of dusty brown hair and cruel, narrow eyes. "Please, please no, no" I dragged my body backwards, skin shrieking as I groped around for something, anything to protect myself. Spots danced in my vision as a boot slammed into my sternum, shattering any cohesion I had left as my voice echoed hoarse screams, mocking shouts echoing back at me.

"And this happened when?" The officer in front of me looked entirely unimpressed as I sat bloodied and bruised, face filthy with dirt, tear marks leaving clean lines down my face, I cradled my wrist with the other hand, sitting on the edge of the offered chair, every part of my body cried out at the slightest touch.

The heaving in my chest made the thumping of my heart painfully aware to my aching skull and weeping joints "today, just earlier! in the back alleys! Please, please you have to believe me! please-" I reached to grab his hand, desperation evident in my tone and panic crossing my face as his thick pencil moustache twitched, beady eyes looking everywhere but me as he yanked his meaty hand back. Paperwork rustling as I clutched thin air. "Why...why would I make this up...please" I begged him, begging and begging, self-worth torn to shreds and thrown to the dogs.

"I think you need some supervision...these marks are clearly self-inflicted. That bruise around your throat has upward pressure, everyone knows strangling leaves downward pressure" Wasps buzzed in my head, droning noises drowning the rest of my thoughts as I frantically tried to explain it.

"He pinned me to the floor and was pushing up to-"

"Enough miss, officers call a nurse and-"

"He was lifting me by my throat!"

"Silence miss, officers have the nurse alert the psych ward we have-"

"Officer! Believe me! Please! I would never-"

""Shut up little girl! Sit back down and be a good girl, the hospital will come and take you to a place you can't pull any more of these stunts" He shouted at me, spittle flying everywhere as blood rushed to his face, likening him to a tomato, a bastardly one at that. The situation sunk in and the blood rushed from my face, I must have resembled a ghost as my bloodshot eyes began to weep again and my skin coloured the same as porcelain. The world was silent as the droning consumed all, blurring scenes flashing before me as hands grabbed me, pulling me up stairs, down stairs, between streets. My body swayed and my heart was thumping in my chest; one pump, two pump, three pump, four. One step, two step, three step, four.

It was cold outside. It was grey outside. It was silent outside. The sun was gone, hidden away from me and in hiding it had taken all comfort from my heart. The ache in my bones for the warmth and peace of basking in the sunshine was a ball and chain holding me to the ground, rooting me in place as the hands yanked on me again; I was not moving until the sun came out.

Inside the van was…odd. There were little scrapes where nails had scrabbled, scrambling to escape. Ropes on the sides, attached to hefty rings that you couldn’t pull down. It wasn’t as dark as I expected it to be either, for a van, it was despicably bright and hauntingly empty of anything but the driver's seat and a lone cushion. White walls and a white floor, bars between the driver and myself, I tried to rationalise the situation, to understand this from another perspective. If I was a nurse and this body the patient, how would I make her tell the story?

Okay, I started by asking her what had happened, how she had come to have such injuries. The story was harsh, the story was brutal and I fought to remain impartial as tears flooded her cheeks and she began to shake. Did she call for help, I asked her what she tried to do once she was cornered, did she even try, did she perhaps not do enough. But she did, screaming and crying her story to me until I could no longer stay outside it and I collapsed into myself. Curling in a fetal position as my lungs contracted, squeezing all the air out; I was wheezing and my nails scraped lines into my skin as I tore at the fabric on my chest, air was escaping me and my throat constricted, unwilling to cooperate, unwilling to save this fruitless life of mine.

I now found out the purpose of those ropes as my arms were strung across the van, holding my body upright and forcing them away from me. No crown of thorns lay on my head as the sins of my brutalizer became the suffering of my own. “Please” I croaked, the words scraping out hoarse, forced and shaky “Please let me die” No energy left to thrash and no energy left to scream, so clearly no energy left to persuade, to barter for the right to my own life, and the loss of it.

The sun was still away, gloomy and reclusive as I was walked into the building. Eerily empty again, stark white coating every surface and all furniture bolted to the floor, no shade darker than silver and no noise louder than a whisper. The glass was almost as thick as my arm, no chance to break it and no chance to escape it.

“Why are you dragging her like that? Can she not walk?” The voice was gentle, cold but refreshingly so in this silence.

“She's been…difficult”

“Uncooperative”

“We were told she has a difficult nature and needs strict watch”

A frown appeared on this stranger's face, his delicate face contorted with confusion “She’s so injured and you’re still rough handling her? I see no resistance from her even as you’re standing still”

“Look, son. We follow instructions from the police captain and he’s told us to be strict with her.” The guarding officer stepped in my line of sight.

“Please” I whispered, life returning to my limbs as I tried to pull myself free, to stand on my own “Let me go, I didn’t do this, please” I pulled one arm free from a nurse and tried to shake the other loose as I strained to have the stranger in my vision again. He was a beautiful contrast to the white void, dark hair, dark clothes and abyssal, dark eyes.

“Let her go, I’ll take her to an empty room. I was visiting Geto to check on him since the incident but he’s lost it and kicked me out.” Before anyone else could react he was between my quivering form and the guard.

His hands were indescribably soft as he led me through dark halls, no windows, only flickering greenish lights lending the halls an even eerier glow than the lonely hall. The bed in my room was somewhat soft, comfortably so but the stark white contrast from the glimpse of the real world outside the window to the little box room was depressing.

“You know…I didn’t do anything to end up here.”

“You don’t look like you would”

“They didn’t believe me because he was smart”

“Smart men get away with more than they ever should”

The micro-conversation was soothing as I sat and stared at the clouds, bubbly shapes rumbling around behind the loose wispy scraps drifting emptily through space. Shards of sunlight peeked out from the lumpy mountain like clouds but the sun itself never showed. Not even as the clouds darkened, the baby blue deepening through cerulean and turquoise before it tainted red and purple, the clouds mimicking their golden sun before they were shrouded in the darkness that was night. Engulfed in the loneliness as the cold moon cast her gaze down to me.

“I hate the moon”

“Why?”

“Because it gets dark and cold and-”

“Don’t look down or away, finish your sentence”

His voice was unreasonably calming and gentle as he lifted my chin to look at him “That’s when those smart men get away with it all” I knew I was right, because that’s what always happened. In the dark of night, in side-alleys or sometimes even in main streets their boots would strike me. Their hands would grab at me and I just prayed the sun would rise again.

“I hate the sun”

It was my turn to look at him in surprise, what reason could you possibly have to hate the sun? It was full of warmth and provided life to everything around it, smart men didn’t dare act up when the sun was out.

“Why?”

“People just pretend, they put on a fake self to present to society”

“And when the moon rises they’re real?”

“Exactly”

It was a foreign concept to me and I couldn’t understand a thing he was saying about the moon. It was a cold and lifeless piece of rock, the sun burnt bright and beautiful to provide for us. I sat there, staring at the moon through the thick glass, trying to see how he did, to walk in his shoes and understand his perspective. It was a cold rock with a little halo because it couldn’t shine on its own, it relied on the sun to give it light. The sun burnt so bright that even in the depths of night it still reached us through the moon, though it burned so aggressively it was burning itself out, still it continued to provide.

“I’m leaving now”

I flinched away as he reached out to me, shying away from contact “Sorry” I moved back to where I had been, letting him gently pet the top of my head

“You apologise too much, I’ll come back tomorrow. Go to sleep”

It felt lonely without him, the moon had almost been inviting, almost comfortable but as the door clicked shut, a tremor ran down my spine and goosebumps prickled on my skin. No amount of tossing and turning lent me warmth, the threadbare blankets I had piled on barely had any weight. I felt naked and disturbed under the watchful gaze of the moon, a chilling eye unrelenting and unforgiving no matter how I tossed or turned I could not escape.

The whine of the rusty hinges startled me upright, bracing myself in a defensive tuck, clutching blankets around me. The moon was gone now and the sun beginning to warm me but it was too early for visitors, I knew that much. “Who…who’s there” I couldn’t look, I couldn’t do that to myself as I called out to the figure, dark and hulking; not my boy from last night.

Since when was he my boy? When did I use possessive nouns? I didn’t know his name either.

“Stay quiet missy and it’ll be fine”

“No!” I screamed, but the walls were sound proof; so silent I became. Just enduring, I didn’t open my eyes, not once as tears as silent as I was, fell down my cheeks. It was silent in the room but in a very loud way as every creak of the bed and every rustle of the sheets tried to drag me out of my mind, pull me from my isolation. As his skin ran over mine, everywhere we touched I was burning up, a fearsome heat that made my tears flood faster. The sunlight burned my skin as it reached out, whether it wanted to help me or hurt me, I couldn’t tell but it was too bright and it burned. The same droning wasps were invading my skull and the noise would not go away, the noise was my comfort as he touched me in places untouched and ways I wanted to scream at. I longed for the cold and cruel darkness who didn’t pretend to hug me and didn’t soothe my nightmares.

He found me sitting behind the bed, out of reach from the sun, with blankets wrapped around my body and covering every inch of exposed skin.

“The sun is out”

I was silent.

“Did you sleep?”

Silence.

“Alright”

I recoiled as I felt him tug my blankets away from my face, sitting next to me. “I can wait as long as you need” the hushed tick, tick, ticking of the clock gave comfort in routine as I drummed my fingers against the floor with every ticking second; every minute spent silent was a minute more I had held myself together. I was proud of my resilience but the walls I built were becoming the prison that held me as comfort sat not even a metre away but I was unable to reach out, throat tightening every time I so much as aimed a glance at him.

“Your name”

“You don’t know it?”

“You never told me”

I hadn’t, it was true but I assumed like everyone else he would simply call me girl, miss or whatever name the police had put on my report.

“What should my name be then?”

I faced him for the first time today, ignoring the shooting pain up my spine and the turmoil thrashing about in my stomach that made me want to heave and retch until my body was empty of anything and everything.

“Luna, you should be Luna”

I hadn’t expected a response.

“Your name?”

“Fushiguro, Megumi”

“Megumi”

“Yes?”

“I just wanted to say it”

His hand gently caressed mine as we sat, side by side, silent as the other but not silent in a loud way and not silent in a scary way. Silent in the way the forest is silent even as the day changes, silent in the way the ocean is silent even when the tides change, silent in the way that everything would be alright. The threadbare fabric of the blankets piled upon me felt hot, far hotter than they had last night against the cold moon and far more intrusive than they had last night as I cried. Sickened with disgust I flung the blankets off me and wrapped my arms across the scrapes on my body, trenches dug with my own nails as I silenced my screams.

“Who did this to you?” His face flashed dark, the calm and cold personality that had comforted me was now frigid and filled with venom “I’ll kill them”. His hands were still so gentle holding mine, even as he gently caressed my face.

“I didn’t look. I couldn’t make myself look”

“When”

“I’m sorry” my voice scratched at my throat, a lump forming as I tried to tell him more “the sun was up. I was wrong, I’m sorry” I threw myself into his arms, his cool skin soothing the flush that rose to my skin and made me feel like I had walked into the flames of hell. My sobs wracked my body as I was held, trembling, shaking and crying in his arms. The only other noise was the soft rustle as he combed his hand through my hair and rubbed my back, just between my shoulders. His hands never fell below my shoulders, like he was aware of the damage done and how fragile I was.

Da-dum, da-dum. Da-dum, da-dum. I rested my head on his chest, letting the rhythmic beating overwhelm the droning in my head, the wasps had woken up and begun to move but like a lullaby it soothed them, back to their slumber

“You did nothing wrong, okay? You are a victim” his voice was soft, so soft I wouldn’t have caught his words if the wasps hadn’t been silenced only moments before. “I never want anyone else to go through this. My dads have been in such a situation and now I’m down to one, permanently locked in his room. Not again, not on my watch” So he could relate my experience to someone else close to him, all anxieties soothed as I understood his motive, the reasons he held me so close and the reason he held so tight.

“I’m hungry”

“You haven’t been given food?” He let go of me, standing and scanning the room for something. “Lets go, I’ll take you to the kitchen and have them make whatever you’re craving”

I accepted his outstretched hand and trailed him like a duckling would its mother, all the way down to the main hall and then some more until we reached a place illuminated only by electric lights. No windows here. Keeping my body sheltered behind his he strode forward to the head chef, recognisable by the toque standing tall on his head as his peers moved around with just hair nets.

“She hasn’t been given food in almost two days, what are you doing if not your job?” Though his tone wasn’t abrasive, it was clear megumi was angry and his anger was clearly directed. “Luna, what do you want to eat?” he gently cupped my face, his tone doing a 180° as not to scare me.

“Rice…sushi and rice” I nuzzled into his hand, meekly asking for my favourite foods.

“You heard her”

“Indeed we did, get to work boys! Get this girl the best sushi of her life or I’ll have you reassigned to clean the toilets!” The chef was boisterous, nothing like his stern expression had suggested earlier, he was rather friendly, chattering with Megumi as the other chefs worked. Megumi squeezed my hand as he moved out of my direct line of sight, letting me see the bustle in the kitchen.

“Was it any of these men?” he whispered softly to me, leaning down slightly so as not to arouse suspicion among the co-workers who placed their trust in each other on a daily basis.

I shook my head, no the man had smelled. The kitchen was not a place for a foul smelling, sweaty hulking man to work. “No…the smell is distinctive”

“The smell? So you can identify by smell?” He ruffled my hair affectionately, accepting the large bowl of sashimi, rice and little sushi rolls from a chef and leading me away. “That’s good, we have a lead, a clue. Good girl” the praise would have made me uncomfortable if another man had said it, instead little butterflies rustled in my stomach and a smile twitched on my lips.

The rest of the day was spent roaming the building. For a psychiatric hospital it was extremely quiet and empty, the air conditioning ran full blast in the hallways, making it resemble the Antarctic, an icy desolate desert. I wrapped my arms around myself, hugging myself to try and preserve at least a little bit of warmth, the scrappy gown they had dressed me in was okay to sleep in as it was light and it was okay in the sun because it was warm but roaming these halls I could feel every hair on my body standing on end as goosebumps raised on my shivering skin.

“Don’t suffer in silence” A warm hoodie was dragged down over my head, smelling heavily like the boy next to me “If you’re cold, just say something” His grey hoodie hung loosely on my frame, squaring my shoulders so it fit better against me.

“Other than being long, it fits pretty well on you. You’ve got more muscle than me at least” he smiled down at me, petting my hair affectionately and adjusting the hoodie on my body so it sat snug rather than scrunched and awkward. I nuzzled into the hood, taking comfort in the warmth and smell.

“Won’t you be cold now” I looked up at him, fiddling with the sleeves.

“I have a long sleeve shirt on, and my clothes are better quality than those dodgy gowns” He took my hand and tugged me along further down the hall.

“Megumi”

“Yes Luna?”

“I just wanted to say it”

He laughed, for the first time since meeting, and it was a beautiful sound. A beautiful sound that captivated me and drew me closer to him. “You do this adorable thing when you’re talking to me. You tilt your head like a puppy might when it smells a treat.” once again he ruffled my hair “I can’t help just wanting to touch you, to hold you and pet you like I might a dog or cat”

“I can’t help it” a small pout formed on my lips as he tugged me around the corner and into a stairwell leading upwards.

“I’ll show you my secret but you have to promise not to come here without me” His face was stern now, and I nodded

“Pinky promise, sworn to secrecy” I held out my pinky finger, letting him interlock his with mine.

“Alright then” he popped the lock on the heavy wooden doors, forcing them open with his full body weight.

The evening was beautiful. The sun had begun to set and the sky was a kaleidoscope of colours and the clouds an array of shapes. The pale blue of midday was weeping into several hues of violet, indigo and lavender whilst the clouds had taken it upon themselves to defy the colour spectrum with vermillion shades threading between crimson and gold, speckling stars resembled diamonds upon a watercolour canvas with sprays of blood littering the delicate painting.

“Its beautiful”

“Wait until it gets dark”

And so we sat there as the reds, purples and gold sunk beyond the horizon and the omnipresent gaze of the moon became unmissable and the diamonds multiplied by the thousands, the millions of billions even. They shattered the darkness and gave the world a gentle glow, not even the moon and her shimmering halo could compare to the billions of stars spread as far as the eye could see, and even farther.

“Oh”

“Oh indeed” his arm snaked around my shoulders, just holding me gently against him. I nestled against his warmth and hummed a contented approval as he combed his fingers through my hair, massaging my scalp with nimble and cool fingers.

“Not even two days and I already just…feel like I can trust you” I snuggled into him, craving the feel of his skin and the sound of his heartbeat

“It’s like we’re bleeding on each other, the trauma we’ve been through and we’re trying our best to stitch each other up” He pulled me tight to his chest, murmuring against the top of my head “I feel like I’ve known you for a thousand lifetimes and it’s been us in every one”

“Do you think we’re this tragic in every lifetime?” a thousand stars shimmered in his eyes, forming galaxies of their own and I wished I could burn this memory into my brain, sear it onto the back of my eyes.

“I think we might be” His eyes never left mine, even as the reddish, rusted light flicked on and cast us into a crimson light. Glazing my eyes the same vermillion as the sky hours earlier. “It almost looks like there are roses in your eyes, the stars and light have combined in such a way”

“Your eyes have formed galaxies of ebony and indigo” I reached up for his face, cupping his cheek “You’re warm” I held onto him in that moment like a sailor might hold onto driftwood in a shipwreck, like a small child clinging to the hopes and dreams that their heroes inspire.

“The moon bids us to sleep Luna” He kissed the top of my head and guided me back to my room. “The moon will watch over you for me, until tomorrow” and just like that he had melted into the darkness and beyond my reach.

The night wore long as I clutched my blankets to me, hyper-aware and on high alert as the memories of yesterday morning burned fresh in my mind. I couldn’t sleep with that constant fear breathing down my spine; the pungent smell of his body on mine and his gravelly, domineering voice as he rough handled me. My tongue darted out, catching the little salty teardrops from my weeping eyes, my chest heaving as air got harder to suck in, my breaths shorter and sharper.

The sun was an unwelcome sight as it heated my flushed skin and invaded the darkness I had come to love. The blinding rays forced me out of bed to try and hang a blanket over the window, which failed. I almost felt feverish as I stumbled back to my bed, headache pounding in my skull and a dry thirst aching in my throat with every breath I took. The maternal comfort I found in the daytime had vanished with yesterday, left was an eternal yearning for darkness, the love under the moonlit sky. I heaped all the blankets I could find onto the floor, alongside my pillows to create a little nest where the sunlight didn't directly reach

The whine of the rusty hinges startled me upright, recoiling back from my comfortable nest on the floor until my back hit the wall. I grabbed the closest blanket to me and hugged it to my body as my muscles seized, tension from the fear overriding my logical thoughts.

“Whoa, easy Luna…its me”

I knew that voice, my lower lip trembled as I tossed the blanket aside and scrambled towards him, throwing myself into his arms. Breathing in his scent, revelling in the cool comfort only he could provide.

“Megumi…” my voice was muffled as I buried my head in the hood of his jacket, up around his neck. The blessed darkness it provided soothed me from the sun burning against my back, the hot and cold flashes felt insignificant when I was in his arms as all my worries melted away.

“Luna! You’re sick, what are you doing up!” He scooped his arms under my legs, hoisting me into his arms and carrying me bridal style out to the hallway “I’m taking you to a room where there are curtains, you need a cool dark environment to get a good rest”

It felt good to be looked after and I couldn’t help relaxing in his arms, my subconscious trusted him far more than I must have believed as I wrapped my arms around his neck and nuzzled him affectionately. “I hate the sun, it's too bright…and hot, it's so hot” I murmured as he gently laid me on another, empty, bed.

“Hush, you need rest.” He caressed my face, gently brushing my hair from my face and placing a soft kiss on my forehead. As he went to stand up I grabbed his hand

“No…stay”

“Alright, alright then. Tell me, you suddenly hate the sun when you loved it just two days ago?”

“I thought the sun could protect me from the dark side of humanity but it doesn't do much” I let out a content sigh as his hand gently stroked my hair. “The sun is cruel, it burns up everything with no remorse. The moon is gentle and kind” I reached a hand for his face.

“The sun is gentle, it gives us light and warmth. All we need to grow and survive is provided by the sun” he grabbed my hand, holding it to his cheek and humming with contentment just as I had done . “The moon is gentle but it doesn’t give us much”

“We swapped. You like the sun over the moon now and I like the moon over the sun” I laughed, rolling onto my side and sitting up, witnessing his gentle smile from the best angle, right in front of him.

The day flew by with laughter and smiles as we talked about all the insignificant things in the world, sharing stories that you might believe crazy if we didn’t have the scars to prove them. I was still weak and feverish even as he tended to me, gentle as a gardener with his brand new flower bed, however weak I was he still looked at me the way a wolf looks at the moon, a tender affection ever present in his navy eyes.

“Did I ever tell you how much your eyes look like an abyss?” I voiced my musings out loud as I lay in admiration of him.

“You might have once or twice” my admiration was returned in his kind expression.

“Good. They’re like an eternal abyss but still so much deeper, like the universe itself, filled with galaxies and stars but ultimately an intangible cosmos of mystery and excitement”

“You can have them if you really like them so much” he poked my cheek “I really can’t stand how dark and dull they are. Unlike your eyes, glowing gold like the rising sun”

“Perhaps I’ll take you up on that offer” I threw a pillow at his face and yanked him down while his vision was obscured.

“If you wanted cuddles, you just needed to say” he snuggled up to me, swinging his legs up and tangling them with mine, resting my head on his chest and holding me tight. The steady rhythm of his breathing was a lullaby to the discord in my head and I settled into a state of serenity, a tranquillity I haven't felt since before the attack. My heartbeat settled into a duet with his, each beat syncing together as the waves synchronised themselves to the quiet after the storm.

“Maybe we aren’t as tragic in this life. Maybe all our lives could be this gentle”

“If all our lives were this serene, I would ask for nothing else”

The rhythmic motions of him finger combing my hair combined with his steady heartbeat and gentle, deep breaths resonated his soul with mine. Every living being resonates on a unique harmony but for now, we shared a note; soundwaves connected on the same frequency.

“Then let's pray to whatever gods exist, that we get our happy ending” I snuggled as close to him as I could, I wanted to exist as one entity with him, one being, one body and one soul.

I felt his smile against the top of my head “then please gods, let us have each other”

“I hate that word”

“Who said the word please that made you hate it so much?”

“I did”

The silence ensuing wasn’t one of discomfort though nor was it comfortable. I felt a small tear fall onto my face. “You deserve the world Luna, a world without any of this violence. Through the stars has your kindness bled through to me and through the moon, I hope mine can reach you”

“We don’t always get what we deserve Megumi” I kissed his jaw and rolled away from him, knowing if I saw him cry, I would start crying too. His hands softly kneaded my shoulders, massaging the tension.

“I have to go early today Luna. I came in early to make sure your morning didn’t repeat yesterday but I can’t stay till nightfall with you” he placed a soft kiss on the back of my neck “I’ll inform staff that I’ve moved you. My dad is two rooms down from you now as well, if you wanted to make a friend. Though he’s not in any state to socialise.”

“What’s his name?” I rolled back over to face him.

“Geto, Suguru Geto.” He placed another gentle kiss, this one on my cheek, before standing up. “I’ll get you some food before I go”

He came back after a few minutes with a large sandwich, accompanied by some vegetables, a fork and knife for cutlery. “Thanks Megumi” I placed the tray on the nightstand and sat up to hug him.

“Be a good girl until I see you again tomorrow, I’ll leave this here in your care” he slid his hoodie off and tossed it into my lap.

And then he was gone, the darkness of the room was still comforting but it just felt colder and lonelier without Megumi, the reason I loved the darkness so much. My eyelids were heavy as I lay staring at the ceiling, hot and cold flashes taking me through paranoid delusions and trippy dreams where everything was twisted and sickly. I clung to the hoodie like a drowning sailor to a piece of driftwood, it was a liferaft in the stormy seas that tossed me around and brutalised my mind.

I heard movements in the hallway and struggled to pull myself to a sitting position, a curious face with dark, narrow eyes and silky black hair, let loose down his back, watched me from my doorway. “Geto?” My throat rasped as I spoke, dehydration clearly getting the better of me.

“You’re Megumi’s girlfriend right?” He began to step through the doorway when a hand grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back. Another man appeared beside him, a mop of unruly white hair and unnaturally bright blue eyes decorated his features.

“Sorry for disturbing you, just came to check on my husband” He pulled Geto away and I was left all alone with my thoughts again. That would be his other dad, they looked alike at least, though polar opposites in personality and colour palette. They had been a nice break from the darkness. As much as I enjoyed the dark, I couldn't help missing the warmth and light the sun brought; it was a struggle to get up and open the curtains and I almost quit twice but the moment the light hit my face, it was worth it.

I cuddled close to the hoodie, cutting a piece of the sandwich from earlier to quench my hunger and stabilise myself as my body swayed with fatigue. Megumi’s smell filled my senses, it reminded me of a forest in a storm, the fresh and energetic scent while the atmosphere weighed heavily with the weight of the electrifying rage it was bringing from the heavens to earth. At the same time it brought memories of the heartwarming moments shared between those I had been close with, laughter and smiles in an untouchable moment of kinship.

I didn’t bother to glance up as the hinges on the door squealed again, assuming it was just Geto being curious. “What’s up?” I had my back to the door as I basked in the sunlight, watching a butterfly flit past, bright and blue. I furrowed my brow as silence met my question, a low chuckle sounded and my body stilled. A pungent smell invaded my nose and I spun, grabbing the wall to steady myself, my head spun and memories violently tore through my mind, reeling from the horror associated.

“You seem much better” his voice was rough, aggressive and almost mocking.

“Get away…get away!” I flung a half drunk glass of water at him as he approached me, steady and smooth stride, confident in himself. “Stop! Please…don’t…please no, get away” I fell to the floor sobbing, collapsed in on myself as I struggled to suck in breath, the oxygen escaping me.

“Be quiet little missy or we’ll get-” a boot slammed into my shoulder, tossing me across the room “-caught” I let out a terrified scream, slamming my fists against him as he grabbed me and threw me onto the bed. His sweaty palm covered my mouth and I thrashed desperately, my limbs were heavy and I could barely land a solid blow; even when I did, he was unfazed.

Tears rolled down my face and into my hair as I squirmed, energy draining at a rapid speed. Sobs wracked my body and my muffled wails filled the air as he straddled me, his other hand undressing me with practised ease. I tried to get a closer look at his face, for Megumi, if I could help Megumi identify the man, I could get away, but tears kept flooding my eyes and everything was blurred. I dug my nails helplessly into the man’s arms and wrists, scraping and scratching, begging and pleading for him to stop. His leering grin watched over my vulnerable body as I frantically tried to save myself. “I’ll wait little miss. It's more fun when you’re still and if you misbehave, I’ll ruin your pretty little face so bad nobody will ever recognise you again”.

My voice grew hoarse and I could no longer wail and scream for help, I still whimpered and whined but my efforts were pitiful as the fever took its toll on my body and I lay unmoving, shaking in my skin perhaps but no more could I struggle “please…stop” my voice was brittle and shaky as I let out one more desperate plead for mercy, I put my hands to my face, biting down onto my arm to stop myself from crying out. His hands burned against my skin as they ran rampant all across my body. I couldn’t stop myself from screaming and thrashing as he slid between my legs, malicious intentions clearly communicated by his iron grip on my hips.

I flung my arm out, barely noticing as my knuckles slammed into the side table, fumbling for something, anything to end my misery. I felt the wooden handle of the knife on my plate, gripping it tightly “Let go of me!” I was screaming again and thrashing, though I could barely make out my own hysterical words. The sun had vanished from the sky and I saw the moon, regal and comforting in her beauty, offering her hand to take me away. His heavy hand grabbed at my wrist but my energy was renewed as I tucked my arm back close to me, slashing the blade across his face. I laughed maniacally as he reeled backwards, clutching his face but my relief was short lived as those sweaty, heavy hands redirected their iron grip to my arms. He caught my wrist mid slash and aimed the blade for my chest.

“I’ll fucking get you for that bitch” he spat globules of blood at me as he struggled to form words properly with his sliced up face. I couldn’t stop the laughter bubbling in my chest as he pushed the blade closer and closer to my heart. It was like ice on my skin as the tip pressed into me, blood welling up as my hand shook with the force he was applying. “Now die” my arm gave out and the blade sheathed itself in me, all the way down to the handle.

My laughter had turned to screams again and I cried for help “Please no!” I could feel my heart tearing itself to ribbons on the jagged piece of metal “Megumi! Megumi! Help me! Someone please!” blood bubbled up in my throat as my frantic heart only shredded itself. The crimson liquid seeping down my bare skin and staining the fresh sheets beneath me. My vision faded to black and my last thoughts were of Megumi’s sweet face. I hoped he wouldn’t cry at my death but I knew better, in our next life perhaps we could be destined for a gentler fate and a sweeter love.

A sharp pain twisted Megumi’s chest as he lay reading on the couch at home. His dad had come home not long ago, saying he saw Luna and Geto wanted to meet her. “Gojo-” he called out for his dad, worried he might be having a heart attack.

“You look pale Megumi, is everything alright” his voice sounded from the next room over

“My chest hurts can we-” the phone rang, interrupting him

“Megumi, it’s about Luna” Gojo’s face was solemn as he handed him the phone.

The silence was heavy as he took it, dreading what might be said next. “What’s wrong with Luna” he demanded into the phone, courtesy be damned, they wouldn’t ring him if nothing was wrong.

“Megumi, there's been an incident. It seems she attacked a staff member and then took her own life with the blade you gave her. We’d like you to come to the hospital to give us your statement on this.”

“Bullshit! Luna would never!” he hurled the phone against the floor, shattering it on the ground and watching the screen go blank. His mind was thrown into turmoil as he felt his cheeks dampen, tears flooding them. His body trembled and his chest heaved as he grabbed the nearest thing and flung it against the wall, watching it shatter like the phone had. “Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck” he kicked the coffee table onto its side, breaking several mugs. Shards of glass covered the living room as he sank to his knees, desperately wiping his eyes as he struggled to breathe. He didn’t even register the sharp pain in his knees as the debris sliced into his skin. “no…”

“Megumi! What happened!”

“I’m going to the hospital” He shook off his dad’s worried look, slapping the concerned hand away as he ran between rooms, grabbing his keys and racing off. The laws didn’t matter to him as his wheels screeched on the road, foot pressing the accelerator to the floor. His speed climbed 50, 100, 150, 200, until he reached the hospital. Time nor space seemed to exist as he sprinted through the building, crashing into several walls in his haste around corners.

“Let me in” he screamed at the staff as they tried to bar him from her room. He took a deep breath, stilling his frantic body “Let me in while I’m asking nicely” his tone was murderous as he glared at them, abyssal eyes promising their demise if they refused him.

The murderous calm fled his body as he saw a knife buried in her chest, her clothes discarded beneath her, bare body on display for the world. There were shards of glass and ceramic from the plate and cup shattered on the floor and the side table had been knocked out of place. Her expression was gentle in death, she looked more peaceful than he’d ever seen her while alive. “This was clearly a murder. Look at the struggle, the way her body is and the downward angle on the blade” he tried to keep a tremor out of his voice as he observed the way her body was. “Where is the man who did this”

“He’s a victim in protective custody sir, you can’t-”

“My father is the police commissioner, I damn well can!” He almost felt bad for the poor girl he shouted at but he would bar nothing in his drive for justice. If he could not get her justice while living, he sure as hell would get her justice after death.

“Well if it isn’t the little police boy” the man smirked at him, a slimy grin accompanied by stitches across his face from a jagged knife wound. Blood matted his dusty brown hair and his narrow, cruel eyes leered menacingly at Megumi.

“You bastard. Handcuff this man” He turned to face the investigating officers, stony resolute now set in, the hysteria gone and in its place, a bloodthirsty need for revenge. He was obeyed instantly for fear of his father now that he’d made it clear who he was, the whole hospital staff snapped into action alongside the officers.

“Megumi?” The gentle voice of Geto broke him from his murderous glare and he barely had time to turn before he was wrapped in a tight hug “Don’t speak, cry” cool hands hugged his head tight to the mans chest and rubbed soothing circles on his back as the reality set in and sobs began to wrack his body. “Easy son, I’m here for you” he collapsed into his fathers arms, clutching the fabric of his shirt tightly in his fists, struggling to ground himself in reality as the world around him blurred, time flew by as he stood sobbing into Geto’s arms. People came and went, their words sounding foreign to his grief obstructed senses. Many hands patted his back, some ruffled his hair but he was only aware of the thumping of his own heartbeat and the gentle breathing of Geto, still holding him close.

“She…she-” his voice broke as his chest heaved and he struggled to even find words, his head thumped with a migraine and everything felt slightly surreal as Geto stepped back to let Gojo comfort his son.

“He’ll never leave prison, you got justice for her megumi, its okay.” he rested his hand in the mop of dark hair, bright blue eyes gentle with reassurance. Megumi trained his eyes to the floor as they left the building, Geto gave him a soft hug goodbye but he barely registered it as the flashing lights obscured the serenity of the moon, red and blue filling his vision. The drive home was silent, the normally pearly moon hung crimson between the stars, clearly mourning as he did. “A blood moon, happens once in a lifetime”

“Like roses blooming on her surface” he clutched his heart as the dull ache throbbed, a hole where her soul had fit, right alongside his. Two puzzle pieces meant to join now forever alone, on opposite shores of the river styx.

#megumi fushiguro #jjk megumi #angst #rape/non con elements #murder #assault #tw sex assault #jjk fluff #megumi comfort #stars x moon #psych ward #im not paying for therapy #Spotify #through the stars did your kindness bleed #its me kida what did you expect

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