Girl, so confusing

Noi x reader oneshot

Mature content warning: Implied sexually explicit acts. 

...

“Noi, how do I go to work like this?”

You examine your reflection helplessly in the mirror. There are large purplish blossoms clustered from your throat to the collar bones, festooned with imprints of light bite marks. Even more, adorn your hips and the inside of your thighs. It’s as if you have grown morning glories all over.

“Wear a scarf,” she mumbled, voice thick with sleep. She rubbed her eyes as she sat up. Her luxurious silvery strands cascade down her shoulders like a waterfall. The covers over her bare body slide off her shoulders, which she pays no mind to adjust.

“It’s ridiculous to wear a scarf all day inside,” you crane your neck, twisting your body. The re-shuffling has caused the floorboards to feel freezing again beneath your feet. Oh god, there’s hickeys on your back too. Last night was a fever dream of heat and tangled bodies, with just small snippets collected and stored in your brain. Only the blue dusk indelibly remembers the rest.

There’s a creak, and the sound of fabric fluttering across the bed.

A pair of staid, muscular arms soon wrap around your torso. Her supple breasts graze your back, nipples hard like a little pebble from the morning chill. She tilts your chin away from the mirror, her long lashes dipping as she looks down at you, casting a soft shadow across her ivory visage. Her plump, rosy lips curve as she speaks. “You talk too much in the morning.”

“Unlike your work clothes, which can hide it, mine-”

Her lips move lazily against you, tongue sliding in and twisting around yours like a tendril to silence your fretting.

You rest your hands weakly against her forearm. A familiar heat pools to your core, you’d think she devoured completely last night. Being touched by her always feels akin to moving through a soft, gauzy mist, leaving one rather lost and dazed in the midst of it all. Perhaps this was why the ancients so deeply feared human lust and created tales villainising the succubus. Beautiful and tempting, luring one into their hold and taking everything away. Lustful creatures, you all are, unable to resist.

Mouths moving apart, and she leans in to give you one more small peck on your bottom lip.

“Heal it,” you whisper, a little desperate, peering into those unforgiving deep reds that still gleam even in the dimest of morning light spilling through the room. Your fingers slide across her arm and back, in a pleading manner.

“Don’t wanna,” she whispers in return, voice low. Scarlet pupils framed by the milky whites of her eyes regard you like an incarnadine mirror, showing your reflection, both a tease and a taunt.

You lean in to kiss her this time, a good, sweet kiss to please her. There’s no point throwing tempers at the person you’re in the desperate mercy of. “Then just the top?”

Noi thought for a moment.

You give her another two kisses, one on each cheek, to seal the deal.

“Just the ones that show from the collar,” she agreed finally.

You squeeze her hands as they loosen around your body. “Put something on, don’t catch a chill.”

She runs her fingers through her hair, rifling through the mess of duvets and fabrics pooling on the floor. “Gosh, that little thing is so small.”

Still scouring for her sleepwear, which was tossed in a random corner of the room with a careless abandon last night, she throws your oversized shirt over to you.

You catch it with one hand and slide into it. The scent of fresh detergent lingering on your nose. “Thanks.”

Eventually, she finds it. The dainty little thing you bought for her months ago out of a whim, just because you thought it suited her, and it does.

You've never quite confessed the whole truth behind it. In reality, it came from many weeks of troubled sleep and thus, intense hypnagogic dreams. You'd always think it's a ceaseless stream of frenzied, unpleasant experiences which haunt you every time you shut your eyes. Until in one of them, you saw her from a distance in a prairie, wearing a long, white dress. How lovely it was, billowing in languid folds, so tranquil, lacking the usual rowdiness of your lucid slumber. She was the safe repose after a storm. The scene mollified you and became something you've yearned to see again.

She shrugs it on. The ghostly pale nightdress immediately rolled down to her ankles like a river of cool silk. Undulating ruffles, plush and airy in two rows sewn around the chest. A girlish, semi-scallop-shaped lace with intertwining floral stitching at the bottom hem. She flicks her wrist, and her hair flips to the back.

Something is alluring about Noi's dichotomy. Her smile and ebullient personality of the vivid sun, and her almost celestial-like serenity when left alone in the briefest moments of quietude. You always say it, so many times you feel your tongue will fall off, but your mind won’t tire. She’s a siren, fairy or angel; devil, sucubus or belladonna, you’d fall happily into any trap she set, any time she beckons. 

“Hm?” She looks at you. “Something on my face?”

You avert your eyes when you realise you’re staring like a gaping goldfish. “I-I’m going to wash up.”

Turning the door handle, you quickly make yourself scarce from the bedroom in a blink. You rush to the bathroom, pink and squirming, like a little schoolgirl thinking about her crush. The little voice in your head, praying, she paid no mind to the florid complexion painted onto your cheeks.

…

Her lips move over your throat with a small wet smack.

You swallow, quivering. The wall behind you is cold and hard on your back, while her touch is burning and ticklish. Your hands rest lightly against her arms, which are currently tilting your head up, giving access to your bare neck. “N-Noi… I thought you said you’re going to heal me.”

She gently nibbles on the side of your neck, teeth grazing your skin. Her soft mouth then latches on, sucking your tender skin, raw, long before this exchange happened. “Hehe, might as well make a few more before it’s all gone.”

“Bully,” you whisper.

She responds by giving you a sharp bite where she left another rosy flower pattern behind. A cheerful, muted hum escapes her lips, as if satisfied with the garden mosaic she created.

You feel her suck in a breath, and a warm stream of air breezes your skin. The trembling smoke particles dance around you, flickering and static, before fading into nothingness. The only sensation left is a faint wetness on your neck and collarbones from her kisses.

“All done,” she murmurs.

“…Stay safe at work,” you cup her cheek lovingly. "See you tonight."

“You don’t have work tomorrow,” she says casually. Her fingers wrap around your wrist, giving you a final kiss on your palm. Noi traces a finger down your neck, then horizontally across your collarbone, a subtle grin on her lips.

Your stomach did a wild somersault in lieu of a reply.

.

.

.

...

Afterparty:

No tags due to the explicit nature of the fic.

I tend to oscillate between the two girls; you can tell who has been on my mind a little more based on who has more fanfiction released one after another, in a certain period of time.

Anyways, I like how Noi has a gothic beauty to her in the manga.

Noi x reader oneshot

...

She tastes like apples.

Her tongue is slick in your mouth, prodding and all-consuming. When you finally break free, she instantly leans in for more. One hand rests on your hip and the other at your nape. Oh, where else to put your hands but around her neck? Her chest against yours is soft, ticklish, like a plush pillow. You straddle her, legs hanging on either side of her own.

The room is grey and sepulchral, in contrast to the merriment of spring, flowers, golden light and the wondrously angelic atmosphere of the season. An uncanny stillness pervades the space, where your moving, entangled bodies are the only exception.

Noi always eats with gusto, an insatiable voracity in which you find you're not exempt from either. The way she nibbles on your already swollen lips and tugs them with her teeth makes you feel as if you're being eaten alive, like a bruised, rubbery fruit. Yet, for some reason, she's still not particularly satisfied, no matter how much she gnaws.

You eventually struggle free for the second time, a wobbling hand covering her mouth, to prevent further onslaught. She made an unhappy noise of surprise, crimson pools in her pupils almost glowering at you.

Your fingers tremble furiously over her face. Thank goodness you're not standing, because you doubt their abilities to function at the present. "N-Noi… I need to breathe. Please."

She rips your hand off her lips. "Are you done now?"

You don't want to see how flushed you are; there might be steam coming out of your ears. Your heart pounds in your ears, throwing you into a wild daze. Breathe in, breathe out. In and…

"Let's get back to it," she murmurs, leaning in again.

"Noi- mmph!"

Her lips immediately press over yours again, even more mean and domineering than before. You try to pull at her arm, which is firmly on the back of your head this time, pushing your face forward. She didn't budge an inch. It feels like bending an iron bar with a plastic straw. Eventually, you give in and let her have you.

Noi is usually bubbly and boisterous, giving you quick, loud smooches with an exaggerated 'muah!' or sweetly pointing to her cheek to signal her intentions. She hardly ever kisses with so much ferocity. She knows better than this to use her strength against you. It's so unlike her.

In fact, it frightens you deeply.

A small, helpless tear escapes your eye and dribbles down, splashing onto her cheeks due to her proximity. Feeling the unexpected sensation of liquid seems to shock her, as Noi instantly breaks away, like a deer caught in headlights.

She cups your cheek and starts examining you hurriedly, especially your lips for injuries. She was about to blow smoke at you regardless, hoping whatever ails you out of the blue was something physical and would go away once magic was applied. "S-sorry. Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

"What the hell, Noi?" You bury your face in the crook of her neck, and her arms immediately wrap around your torso. It was relieving, sensing her care. She's still Noi. "Y-you're acting so weird today. The moment you come home, you've been acting this way."

Noi finishes work at erratic times, based on whatever whims and jobs En have. Though it is the norm for you to be home before she is. So you were happy to find out she came back so quickly today. But before you could say a word, she dragged you into the bedroom, threw you onto her lap and started whatever this was. Noi have never been the type to lash out her rare, negative emotions at anyone.

People call her happy-go-lucky or childish. You've always found that description somewhat incomplete, with a few essential jigsaw pieces missing. "Happy-go-lucky" insinuates she is doltish and nothing goes through her head. Noi is frank and lives in the present with a rapidly re enacting resilience and thus her seemingly easy optimism. None of which is a dictator of ignorance. One would argue that being joyful in a world where joy is rare is more effortful than being sad. Bitterness comes inevitably, like unceasing tides. However, she's also subject to the occasional plague of her own set of worries and prone to overthinking when the situation calls for it. She is only a person at the end of the day, multifaceted and fickle. Nevertheless, a woman who is largely the master of her emotions and chooses to bounce back from adversity quickly.

"Did something happen today?" You ask softly, the frantic thumping in your rib cage has settled a little.

Her grip around your body tightens. "…You tell me."

Hearing such flat, uncharacteristically dismissive words, you look up searchingly. She has her eyes averted from you, lips pursed.

"What do you mean?"

"I thought you went to work today," she says.

"I did."

She glare at you. "Then why the fuck were you with some guy outside a fancy restaurant in the afternoon? With roses and chocolates, just the two of you? What the hell is that stuff for?"

Cold sweat forms on your back. How did she know? The exchange between you and that coworker was so brief that it would barely be three minutes. Seeing Noi's eyes darken every second you remain mute, you force your tied tongue to move.

"How did you…?" You shake your head; it isn’t important how she knew. “It’s a misunderstanding. It’s not what it looks like."

"Then make me understand!" Her soft, silky hair is rather frizzy, as if electrified by violent indignation. Her face has always been an open book for her heart, beaming when she is jovial, gloomy when she is upset, and now, clearly in pandemonium.

"He asked to discuss work over lunch, that’s why I went. I didn't know the place he booked was so fancy, or that he was going to bring all those things. I told him I was taken and left."

Noi remain silent and sullen after hearing your words, refusing to look at you. Her throat bobs as she swallows hard.

"Oh, Noi…" You gently stroke her face. "I would never cheat on you, swear on my life."

The deafening silence of the room exacerbated the pattering sound of the curtain blinds lifting into the air by the impatient spring breeze, which brought inside the scent of sickly apple blossoms, and hit the wooden window ledge. Someone is coughing, a few storeys down on their balcony. There was a distant honk from a broom.

When you kiss the space between her scrunched-up brows, she finally faces you. Pulchritudinous red orbs in the fading light, sad, like glassy apples.

"I confided to a few closer coworkers, who also confessed he did the same thing to them. Apparently, he just desperately wanted a partner and thought people like me, who don’t have a lot of smoke output, are easy targets to woo," you explained quietly. "He doesn't like me, and I don’t either.”

"I'm gonna kill that shit head," she mutters.

You pinch her cheeks reassuringly. "You're the only one for me, Noi."

The timid disquietude washes over her demeanour again, the elation she normally adorns, rotting and decaying. She lowers her eyes, face crumpled. "Thought I had you, and then lost it. It was confusing. Even when I gave up stuff in my life, like being a devil, it was because I chose it out of my own will… I thought… I got dumped, and I realised I couldn’t do anything about it."

Seeing how she's fidgeting, you knew all the desperate kisses were a frantic display of the female cleaner's fear.

"Noi, I've never left you in the dark about anything, and I promise I won't start now."

"I'm sorry," she mumbles, shoulders slumped. "I've scared you, haven't I?"

"It’s okay, I was just startled."

"But I made you cry, and I've never..." She shakes her head, touching the area underneath your eye tenderly, where the tear had made a path and escaped. Then her fingers rub your bottom lip, red and swollen. Her voice is laden with guilt. "I saw you through senpai's car window as we were driving past. Your eyes were on someone else… and I…"

Her pale face is tinged in a shameful, melancholic pink. "…I'm sorry."

You stroke her head. "I trust you, and I'm not mad."

You two fall quiet again. Noi's magic can't heal non-physical hurt, so in moments like that, she is still traversing the mazy way that is found rife in human relationships.

"…If you still feel terrible, I would like some kisses as an apology. Let bygones be bygones after that."

Seeing her hesitate, you intertwine your fingers with hers and kiss her. Forehead, temple, nose and cheeks. "Do the last one yourself, Noi, my sweet."

Her lips are warm, as they move carefully against yours.

She tastes like apples.

.

.

.

...

Afterparty:

I LOOOOOOOOOOVE NOIIIIII

I really hate it when people call Noi happy-go-lucky online, because I find there to be something inherently missing from that statement. Noi is interesting!!! Annoys me when people think shallow happiness is all there is to her. Being able to be resilient and not chained down by the consequences of that resilience, to me, is the epitome of peace. I think the longer you live, the more you appreciate Noi's mindset. It's so unregretful. If life is a journey, then it's better to be on this journey cheerfully.

Noi x reader oneshot

...

“Another one, so soon?”

“What’s the big deal with that?” Noi replies, her voice muffled, echoing from the bathroom.

“Nothing, really,” you say, flipping a pancake over. You curse a little, and the fresh batter on the other side splatters. It is no longer a perfect circle, and the minor imperfection irritates the eyes. Though the top side is now deliciously golden brown, with a smiley face on it. Noi bought this pan with cute face moulds, saying from now on, your fried eggs and pancakes will have more personality. This purchase has certainly encouraged you to keep your apartment smelling like buttery vanilla batter. “Cartilage piercings hurt.”

“It’s not that bad.” Noi rolls her shoulders as she walks out. The dangling chain earrings from her earlobes, with crosses at the end, glitter and swing forward as she moves, before quickly disappearing behind her silvery hair again. Three other studs: a long and thin bar, and two small and round earrings, appear to wink at you with a beautiful glimmer. Some are a bit older, some are new, all forming a network of metallic constellations on her ears.

How lovely they are, it suits her so well.

“I know you can heal it if it gets inflamed or infected.” You stack the fresh pancakes on a plate, loading them with fresh cream and berries. “But you still have to go through the initial pain and stuff, you know? Your body needs to get used to the new metal, so you technically have to go through the same trajectory as everyone else, magic or not. Plus, you got a rook stud barely two weeks ago.”

“Just a sting.” Noi shrugs, smiling, happily stabbing a warm pancake with her fork.

You wipe your hands on the dry dish towel, ruminating over her nonchalance. Noi’s pain tolerance is undeniably high, and she heals immediately. In theory, all is well. Perhaps you worry for nothing, but the greater the love, the greater the fear, you suppose.

Sitting down, you play with the berries on your plate, blueberries tumbling around on the porcelain, covered in white cream. Only now do you realise one of your strawberries is gone. You look up to see Noi innocently munching on her breakfast.

Coy kitten.

She playfully hooks her foot around your ankle from under the table, giving you an impish grin once she notices your gaze.

“Hmm… what is this?” Noi bunch her brows, chewing thoughtfully. “It’s salty.”

“I made it extra hard today.” You grin, leaning your head on your elbows. You and Noi take turns sneaking food into at least one pancake, then have the other person guess what it is. There is no particular motive or end goal for this kind of game; it is played for the sake of play. Life isn't measured by one's successes or achievements, more so by snippets of little happiness with the people you care about, such as this.

She takes another bite. “Tastes bready… like potatoes. D’you put potato chips in it?”

“Damn, that was fast.” You deflate, poking at the pancake on your plate. It’s a smiling, sad face now. “Waaayyy too fast.”

“Hehe! I like it.”

“Kinda like a hash brown,” you frown, giving it a taste as well. “A little better than what you made last week.”

“C’mon, the miso paste was awesome!” She shoves a normal pancake in her cheeks, flashing an expression of being wronged.

Miso paste is delicious individually, but when paired with fluffy, vanilla-flavoured pancakes and rich cream, the combination became so nauseating and foreign that it might be a flavour designed to induce vomiting. Sometimes when you fall asleep, those miso pancakes chase you in your dreams. Though your feedback to Noi was mild, it was nevertheless critical.

“I accidentally put too much. I thought it’d taste like ramen,” Noi sniffs.

“You scored a hundred on creativity,” you agree. "The marshmallows last time were yummy."

The female cleaner huffs, tone resolved. “Next week I’ll show you better!"

“I look forward to it eagerly”, you grin, taking the empty plates and putting them in the sink.

“I should probably get going. Senpai is probably on his way.” Noi stands up, stretching. Her dangling earrings bounce again, shimmering from the morning sun hitting her back.

“Home for dinner?”

“I don’t think so, En’s so annoying. But I'll give you a call.”

“I’m going grocery shopping tonight, text me anything you’d like before then.”

“Mhm.”

You walk her to the front door, and before she touches the knob, she leans forward. You catch a whiff of her fragrance. She smells wonderful: a soft, nostalgic, sweet, floral scent you can’t put a finger on. Most would think she stinks from the nature of her job, and sometimes she does, depending on how sweaty and covered in blood she is. But on most days, and in quaint moments like this, the scent is so undeniably lovely that one would wish to sink into it and be in it for eternity without ever becoming tired.

She closes her eyes and waits. You cup her cheeks with both hands. Her skin is smooth and free of blemishes. The female cleaner has her guard down completely; you really can do anything you wish. Trust is such a rare treasure in a barbaric world such as this… what a wonderful gift.

You didn’t kiss her farewell immediately. Your eyes couldn’t help but wander to her ear again. The vestiges of her ivory skin, soon to turn red from the new piercing. In fact, you can see that her ear is a little raw, still recovering from her new stud weeks ago. After today, a conch stud will be there. It’ll be pretty on her. Small matters, you know.

“Jeez, still hung up on that?” Noi’s eyes are half lidded, ruby red orbs swimming with mirth. Her warm lips brush against yours as she speaks. “I don’t know why you’re so worried. Some people have more than I do.”

Your fingers found themselves in her silky locks, and you ran through them gently. Your heart twists in an odd, uncomfortable knot. “I just… don’t like the fact that you go through pain. Is that a strange way to put it? It’s an unrealistic and idealistic thought, and you can heal it. My words don’t make sense… I just… not even a sting, Noi. Not even sting would be okay. It would make me sadder than I would admit.”

You dislike seeing Noi's ensanguined clothes from work, even if it's not her blood. You dislike it when she is being silly in the kitchen and accidentally burns herself. You dislike it when she bruises her knees from falling over in high heels. Your cowardly love is not made for this world, and you know it. Yet you cannot seem to halt its suffocating rush as it grips your chest.

Noi can handle anything, and you'll always support her. But there's a dissonance with your feelings. A strange hollowness you can't ascribe the root cause of, regardless of your monomaniacal attempts to explore the reasons. It relieves you in a way to know she somehow understands these poorly articulated emotions, instead of dismissing you as a paranoid, controlling and selfish idiot.

There are moments you occasionally dabble closer to the potential truth. Such as everyone being independent human beings, thus another's pain is immitigable. There's something so alienating about this experience.

“Hehe.” She lets out a breathy laugh, voice low and sweet as honey. It was more decadent than any sugar pancake that the best dessert chefs in the world can create.

She gives you a light, cheeky peck on the lips. The cold silver of her tinkling jewellery chilly against your cheeks, eliciting a shiver. “Worrywart.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. Saying the stronger, three words frightens you, so what is there to do but to kiss her as well. The way your lips and tongue press against hers is somewhat desperate, embarrassingly so.

“Gimme more,” Noi murmurs as you part, lips immediately chasing yours, not giving a moment's respite.

And you do, again and again, hoping all that dissembled fear melts away with the sweetness of her lips.

.

.

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...

Afterparty:

Shin x reader oneshot

Note: This is the same reader from my Shin x reader: Sulfur fic, but this oneshot is perfectly fine as a standalone without any knowledge of the events in Sulfur. 

...

You turn to your side. After a minute, you flop onto your back. Another minute passes, and now you’re on your stomach. The pillow doesn’t feel right under your head, nor the duvet over your body, the mattress or anything, for that matter.

Opening your eyes, you try to recount a good line from the new book you’ve started reading. Laurus by Eugene Vodolazkin: “Understodest thou what thou redest or dost thou but turn the pages?” Why do you like it? Um, beyond the commentary on superficial comprehension, it can also condemn the herd mentality and intellectual dependence… um…

Ugh, that makes you more awake.

You try to count sheep instead. One sheep. Two sheep. Three sheep. Four sheep. Five… Five little ducks go out one day, over the hills and faraway… Mother duck says quack, quack, quack, but only four little ducks came back-

Ugh.

You roll onto your back again. The bedroom is dark and peaceful, perfect for rest. Yet your brain, like a battery, is still green with energy.

“Quit moving around!” The gruffy voice by your side snaps.

“I can’t sleep,” you confess, pouting a little, despite knowing he can’t see your expression.

“Well, I can, goodnight.” He flips to his side, back facing you.

Shin has always been a prickly, near-sighted yellow cactus.

Huffing, you turn and eyeball the bedroom door. On the short, silver hooks glinting in the darkness hang his suit jacket and tie, draped black as night. Next to them was your jumper, the fabric all limp and exhausted. His grouchiness is understandable, truly. Shin slept little last night, but was sent on a job halfway across the city, from the vague and brief phone call he gave you at lunchtime.

Even if he could snooze the moment his head hit the pillow, it didn’t change the fact that you couldn’t. Coming to terms with your lack of destiny with sleep tonight, a bold, new idea came to mind. For you, anyway. Carefully sliding out of the bed and tiptoeing to the door. You quickly and soundlessly wiggle into your jumper and throw on a warmer pair of pants.

The bedroom sheets rustle, and the bed creaks. He squints at you. “Where're you going?”

“A walk,” you mouth, opening the bedroom door quietly. There is a faint clatter as Shin blindly feels for his glasses on the bedside table.

“Goodnight.” You close the door with a gentle click.

…

Shin skulks a step behind you a few minutes later, in his usual suit and tie, hands in his pockets. A thick veil of gloom over his face.

“You didn’t have to come," you say with a weak smile, hands behind your back, admiring the different-shaped neon street lights. Hm, what would be inside a strange meat pie? What is a 'meapwich'? You note the new names down in your mental food lexicon. “It’s just a short stroll.”

“Then we’re going back in ten minutes.”

“That’s too short! Go home, you buzzkill!”

Initially, seeing him follow you all the way down here made you feel touched at the sweet gesture. Now, most of the joy died, replacing it with the same gloom he is presently bathed in. This cactus has latched onto you with its spikes, and you can’t seem to shake him off.

“15.”

You decide the best way to extend your stay is not to argue with him. You nod obediently to pacify his moodiness, in which you don’t have to turn around and confirm.

The night is filled with the aroma of spices, charred smoke and a sharp tang of metal. Laughter reverberates down the street, glasses twinkling and clinking together, and the distant roar of a broom. The sky past midnight is sparkling with stars, with a few rags of grey clouds ambling along. Someone's on a flying carpet, goodness.

"Your constellation is bright tonight," you say, peering at twilight above, where the shining star Spica expends its glistering glow.

“Huh.”

“You’re a Virgo, right?” You point to the stars. “September 9th?”

“The hell’s a Virgo?”

Such a Virgo response. You drop your arm, choosing not to entertain this topic any longer.

You resume admiring the streets, so many passerby adorn all kinds of masks, the range almost dizzying. As much as people here insist the sorcerer world is superior in every way, it still reminds you of the Hole. Vividly colourful, gritty and filled with so much activity that people may feel they’re missing out every time they go to bed. Everyone is eccentric, motivated by their own emotions and desires.

The only differences between the two places are rain, magic and devils. Some are so trivial, some so enigmatic, that it almost feels unimportant. You assume it’s simply ignorance for believing this is so. There’s just something inherently strange about feeling superior over something you’re born with, like magic ability and smoke output. Perhaps you only say this as an outsider, a magicless human secretly brought to the sorcerer world by Shin. The fox who couldn't eat the tall grapes on the vines above would naturally say the grapes are sour and nothing special.

Your footsteps slow, cogs turning in your head, reaching an epiphany. Oh, that’s all the more reason he won’t let you walk alone at night. Heat rises to your cheeks in guilt and shame. One accidental skirmish and your puny butt is a lump of unrecognisable flesh on a random street corner. Shin occasionally complains you're a handful, and you cannot refute those claims to be falsehood.

“What?” Shin glances at you, surprised by your slowed steps.

You shake your head, pretending to huff warm air on your palms to hide half your flushed face. Though many things go through your head, potentially more important considerations also fly past effortlessly. “It’s nothing.”

“Are your hands cold?”

Before you could respond, he intertwines his hand with yours and shoves them in his suit pocket. It is warmer, indeed.

“Put your right in your jumper. I think it’s the one you own with a pocket.”

You comply, going along with the innocent misunderstanding. "…Thank you."

Shin walks slower now, too. He is tall, with long legs and huge strides. Yet, ever since holding your hand, his pace has slowed down considerably. No, he had been walking according to your pace this entire time.

The pavement led you two to the shopping district, with many stores still lit and running. Restaurants are filled with rambunctious customers dining past midnight, their tables littered with food and booze. Clothing stores have gorgeous ladies, their throats layered in glittering jewels and men in suits and shiny watches, both arms filled with garments. There's violent, booming music and wild flashing colours in a large gilded building, with bouncers standing outside, arms crossed. A few people are vomiting on the sidewalk, before glugging more alcohol down their throats. A limousine honks and parks. A few men in leather jackets storm out and start to yell at them.

How lively.

You remember a vague saying, something along the lines that some places or cities never slumber. Perhaps your mind is getting foggy from so little sleep; the true words are all distorted.

In the corner of your eye, you see something lumpy and grey near the entrance of an obscure alleyway, washed out by the pooling shadows of the twilight. Initially, you thought it was rubbish, but then a hairy rat scurries over it. You realise the thing has fingers. A cold, numbing chill rushes down your spine, and you look down quickly at your feet. Sorcerer world or Hole, violence everywhere. Like you've said, same all.

"Are they…" You start and trail off.

"Dead," he replied curtly.

You nibble your lip and nod. Despite his words, you still raise your head. You just wish to confirm again. If there is even a tiny twitch, then the hospital is close, so-

Shin's body blocks your line of sight as he steers you away.

“Don’t look if you don't want to be upset,” he mutters. "Isn't it the same deal as your old place?"

You squeeze Shin’s hand tightly; his stitches pressing against your fingers feel rough and bumpy against your flesh. But the texture helps ease your now anxious heart a little.

"I just don't want to become desensitised to death," you say, voice barely above a whisper. "It's a privileged standpoint, but it'll all be us, one day. It's the only thing we have in common."

"A-and…" Your eyes burn as you remember the lonely, distant past. "Maybe someone is waiting for them back at home."

"Then don't waste your short life overthinking it." His voice was cool, saying no more on the matter. But the way his thumb brushes the back of your hand is impossibly gentle. 

You rest your head gingerly on the side of his arm. How glad you are that he came with you. Maybe you would’ve actually scuttled home faster if he had not followed. Not that you'd let that information become privy to him. 

“…Finally tired?” He sighs, sensing your footsteps had become sluggish. “For someone so sedentary, you got your fill tonight.”

“Humph.” You rub the tip of your cold nose against his arm, too tired to banter back. Your head is heavy and groggy; perhaps you can sleep standing up if you try.

He finally lets go of you and lowers down. “Get on, I want to go home and sleep too.”

“I can walk by myself,” you mumble, abashed. You depend on him for far too many things without meaning to. Noi teases that he spoils you, but it’s more and more apparent that it might not be a joke anymore. “I can’t fight that well, but walking, I can do. Plus you’re tired and-"

“I'm fine, and I know you can walk just fine.”

Seeing he did not budge, you climb onto his back wordlessly in resignation, arms wrapping around his neck. His arms, hooking around your knees, are steady and strong as you both rise. Fluffy, buttercream yellow hair, like a baby chick, is still the same as when he was younger. He smells like the handmade bar of soap you recently bought at the farmers' market.

He’s so warm.

“… I appreciate everything you do for me, Shin.” You murmur, leaning close to press a light kiss at the rim of his ear.

His body jolted and went stiff for a brief moment before relaxing and continuing to walk in large, but slow strides, grip on you tightening almost imperceptibly.

The moving scenes around you all dissolve into shapes and colours, sounds fading into hushed, white noise. He turns his head slightly to reply. But by then, you had already fallen asleep on his shoulder.

.

.

.

...

Afterparty:

The reason I didn't call this Sulfur part 4 is that I never had any intention in the first place to make one. But after some contemplation, it’s a pity not to have Sulfur reader spend more time with Shin like they’ve always wanted to (even though I planned for them to be dead when Shin goes to find them ahahah). I am aware Sulfur was very short, and I reckon people wanted more out of it... So maybe this is an AU where Shin went back and found them alive. Shin will only take a human reader to the sorcerer world if the reader doesn’t have attachments left in the Hole.

I really enjoy the idea of Shin being with a human, actually. It’s a nod to the relationship between his parents. I think a non-sorcerer partner would kindly give him back the human roots he left behind due to his rough childhood.

I like unconventional kissing locations such as the jaw, or the earlobe/rim, the side of the mouth… It's charming to me. 

Noi x reader oneshot

...

“That one looks like senpai!”

You almost choke on your own saliva. Your gaze follows the direction Noi pointed to. Amidst the blur of colours in the tank, a saccharine yellow fish swims languidly between the wiggling thick kelp. Its lips were upturned in a dyspeptic frown, as if fixed in an expression of permanent moodiness.

Thank goodness Shin did not come tonight.

You eye the matte information board on the right for the fish picture. Asian arowana, or Scleropages formosus… He’s a new addition to the aquarium. Oddly pouty and adorable.

“If we give it some glasses,” Noi giggles. “Oooohhh! These fish are kissing! Reminds me of us!”

The two ghostly pale fish have their pink lips tightly interlocked in the corner. Glancing at the information board again, you gulp. Kissing Gouramis kiss to assert dominance or as part of a ritualised fight.

“…You’re much cuter than that fish anyway,” you say weakly. One slap from Noi, and you're a goner.

"And that one looks like En." Noi knocks the glass inaudibly with her knuckle, grinning with a tinge of villainy.

It is a reddish-orange octopus with its bulgy eyes closed, thick tentacles curling on the sandy floor. You're not sure of the specifics, but you wholeheartedly agree with this comparison.

"I'm going to find other fish who resemble people!" Noi gleefully skip away.

All you see is a blur of silver, as Noi happily flit across each display, searching for the leafy seadragons among the colourful coral and poking at the bobbing moon jellyfish swimming behind the glass. The tenebrous corridors and display rooms of aquariums were always dark, lit aglow by the light from the tanks. When people walk through all this blue, oceanic darkness for a while, they naturally feel a little melancholic. Yet, Noi is a bundle of joviality, seemingly more and more exuberant with each passing moment.

"Look!"

Just as you were admiring a sea snail adhering to the glass, a larger hand grabbed yours and promptly dragged you to the other side of the room. Noi stares at you expectantly, a wide grin plastered across her face.

"Noi, this is a lobster." You furrow your brow. "Are you craving lobster? We can have seafood boil for dinner."

"No- but the colour from the seafood boil is a clue! Look at its face. Whom does it resemble!"

It's pretty on the nose given her previous comparisons; nevertheless, you cannot conceal the chuckle escaping your lips. "Fujita."

The two of you burst into another fit of laughter, whilst the lone, olive-green lobster behind the rock stares back, black beady eyes pure and unblinking.

…

"Noi, these clown fish are so small," you tap the glass gently at the family of orange fish swimming among the bulb-like arms of the pink sea anemone. Silence greets you, and hearing no reply, you spin around. Couples walk side by side, children holding their parents' hands, friends chattering together, but not even a shadow of the female cleaner.

Places like the aquarium are an utter delight for Noi, who enjoys new and interesting things. Thus, a natural habitat which fleshes out the pure essence of her child-like wonder and eagerness. This, unfortunately, makes it a nemesis for you to find her. If it were an amusement park, at least you'd have the audacity to call her name loudly, hoping for a yell back. Yet, you can hear your own footsteps echo through the rooms, wordlessly searching for her amidst the sea of people is the only option.

The map explaining the organisation of the aquarium confuses you. The place is all glass and low lights. It's akin to walking in a mirror house, everything seemingly the same. Eventually, you stumble across a somewhat empty room with rows of seats. There's a huge glass wall filled with aquamarine waters at the front, radiating an ethereal blue-green glow. Within them, two large, opaque shapes come into view. White light dapples across their light grey backs, small black eyes on either side of their face and an adorable, cheery smile.

One of them immediately does a cheeky backflip.

It's not very often you see a beluga whale in the flesh. You cover your mouth, smiling. Although no Noi, you may have found her marine counterpart.

It didn't take long after that to locate the silver-haired darling again. The next room down the corridor is a touch pool free for visitors to interact with certain sea creatures. The fishy, briny scent of seawater fills your nostrils as you step inside. Her crouching, larger figure, dressed in her dark dress suit, is at the end of the shallow rock pool, among the young children in colourful frocks and shirts. She is marvelling at a wet starfish in her palm, barely the size of a golf ball.

"How cute." You crouch down also. The sea star is cute like a button, light pink and pebbled. It has four short, plump legs, similar to cake slices.

"They’re missing an arm," she murmurs, touching the stub carefully.

You stay quiet and steal a glance at her expression. Her eyes are lowered, staring at the small animal, and her rosy bottom lip is jutting out the tiniest bit. Her shoulder stiffens. It is all too obvious what she wishes to do.

"Most sea stars are capable of regenerating by themselves. There's no need to use your magic," you smile, tucking an escaped strand of hair behind her ear.

She leans down and gently blows a small gust of smoke at it. “Why wait?”

Fresh flesh of the sea star blossomed over its stub, forming a new arm. Noi gives the top of the sea star a fond few pats and then puts it back into the water, among the rocks. "Good as new!"

"You're such a sweetheart," you sigh and help her up.

"That reminds me!" Noi perk up, face deadly serious. "I've been meaning to ask you this, so answer me honestly."

"Mm?"

"Would you still love me if I were a sea cucumber?"

"…Go wash your hands." You point in the direction of the bathrooms. "Oh, right, did you see the room with the Beluga whales?"

"Yeah?" Noi looks at you innocently.

"Nothing."

…

"That’s what we saw on the poster!" Noi's arms fly up in joy.

Ahead, a stretch of glass burrowed deep into the aquarium’s cavernous black walls, curving to the right and disappearing from view. A diverse collection of marine life darts across the transparent arches of the tunnel. The prismatic, rippling light from the water splashed onto the walkway, cut through by the moving silhouettes of fish. You wonder if this would be what Atlantis was like in the legends.

This mazy way of heterogeneous sea creatures strangely reminds you of the chaotic sorcerer world you live in. Everyone with their own queer interests and quirks, yet all forced to live within the same dark waters.

"Wow, I can touch the ceiling," Noi comments in wonder, brushing her fingertips along the top of the acrylic. A large dark shadow glides on top, diamond-shaped and white, where Noi placed her hand. "Hehe! I'm giving this manta a belly rub."

It's such a minute moment which seemingly echoes for eternity in your eyes. When the manta floated away, Noi, still admiring the waters above, the aquamarine glow set her silver hair on fire with a pearly, surreal luminance. Her long lashes are like rays of light over her dusky, cherry-red orbs. If you had described what you saw in this moment to others, people would've undoubtedly agreed the person in question is indeed a sea nymph or a siren from a folktale.

You pause at the side railings, admiring her. Sometimes, if one stares at something they wish to etch forever in their memories for a long time, without blinking, their brain really takes such a snapshot. It imprints on every sulcus and gyrus, and when it's still not enough, it shares it with the beating heart also. 

You accidentally overhear two teenage boys and a girl hunched together at the back, whispering to each other, saying something along the lines of 'this tall lady's kind of pretty and sexy'.

Gazing back at the woman in front of you, it's clear as day. Noi isn’t 'kind of '. She just is. But she's also a lot of other things. Cute with the fishes. Sweet to the sea star. Dependable and diligent at work. Funny, brave, resilient and loyal.

She's so very wonderful beyond compare.

Noi starts making kissy faces at an ogling turtle.

You touch your flaming cheeks, heart fluttering helplessly. God, what a catch you've made in this great ocean called the world.

.

.

.

...

Afterparty:

I love Noi dearly, but writing her fics is really a struggle. The number of revisions and rewrites is crazy. I'm tired, aha.

Nikaido x reader oneshot

Note: Excessive alcohol, don't read if it triggers you. The reader in the story is kinda sad, so maybe read it when you're feeling the same way. 

...

The world is spinning. There were five glasses in front of you… No, there were ten. But that would also mean you have ten hands, which is even more improbable. So how many glasses are actually in front of you? A little or a Dantean amount.

Who cares.

The glass cup dripped wet with perspiration from the thick log of ice cube, which had long reduced to a deformed, funny-shaped thing, like a conch shell or a scrappy beanbag. There’s still some whiskey inside, bourbon or scotch? You can't even remember. You downed whatever the bartender gave you without a second thought, flavours barely registering in your mind. You kept asking for refills without further elaboration. Clearly, he is used to vague and unhelpful customers like you who only sought to be drunk. 

There's a tingling sensation on your face. You're all warm, even your ears. It was one of the rare, quiet bars on the outskirts of the city. The area has been swarmed by sorcerers frequently in the past, so people tend to stay away from it. Despite this, the chattering of the few customers present was almost amplified, droning with a distant hum. It's making the side of your head hurt a little, as if someone wedged something sharp and thin in your parietal lobe.

Resting the side of your face on the damp counter, you close your eyes and try to breathe. There's a pleasant, toasted fragrance of cigar smoke, cedar, potentially. The inevitable smell of booze was heavy and almost cacophonic in the way it dominated the room. When paired together, it gets nauseatingly sickening after a while.

You normally don’t reach for alcohol; the taste was bitter and unkind, and it burns your throat. However, the way it simplified your brain, making it go all foggy and endlessly cheerful, was worth the trade-off. The ghost of your reason for doing has gotten quieter.

Mmm, what do they call this behaviour? Ah, drowning your sorrows with alcohol. Your chest feels free and vast, as if you can handle anything. No pain, no troubles, no unhappiness.

So, so unhappy.

Rough day.

Feeling the ugly twist in your stomach again, you immediately down the remains of your drink in one gulp.

Must be happy. Should be happy. 

Your tongue feels like the desert as you pay the tab. 

You're going to just… nap here for a bit, and then go home once you’re a little more sober. Who gives a damn about getting mugged? You didn't bring anything valuable today, unless you must include your own life. Then, unfortunately, one thing. 

"What the hell!"

A lovely, familiar voice hissed close to your ear, interrupting your dizzying thoughts. There was a weight on your shoulder, which forced your sluggish body to turn around on the barstool. Her brows were knitted together, deep turquoise eyes dark in the dimly lit bar, her lips downturned. 

"Ni…kai…do?" You slur in your drunken stupor. You didn't even hear the bell jingle when she stormed in. Dear god, you're so fucking drunk. 

She might be a little annoyed. Maybe? You dunno. You giggle at the thought, but why would she be so irritated? She's cute like this. Just seeing her cheers you up like a buttercup.

Nikaido, love. She is love.

"How many drinks did you have?" She demanded, staring at the bar counter, reproach evident in her tone.

"Just one… or two… Nika," you drawl sweetly, blindly tapping a random glass closest to you. "No biggie."

"There are like 20 glasses here, you idiot!"

You shrug lightly, with a small hiccup. "… J-just a...few!”

Nikaido wordlessly turns around. Before you could inquire further, she lowered down and pulled on your arm. You fall like a sack of potatoes, body landing limply onto her back. It was so fast, not even a ‘oomf’ could escape your lips.

She hooks her arms around your knees. "Hold on."

You sluggishly throw your arms across her shoulders. She rises easily, as if you weigh nothing. 

"Hic, where are we going, Nika~?" You ask rather jovially, happy to be held. "Don’t you wanna have a drink too?... I hear their beers are brewed in-house… it's quite refreshing… and sweet… and not bitter at all… a-and the whiskey-”

"Home, and no," she replied curtly, tone biting and hard. 

"Why not? Let's stay a bit longer-" 

"No."

The bell of the door twinkled, and then the crisp, cool night air rushed against your scorching cheeks. The fresh air was refreshing in contrast to the stuffy atmosphere in the bar. It gave you this tremendous, liberating feeling and overwhelmed you completely. You simply must declare yourself under such exuberant circumstances.

"Nikaidooooooo~ I loooveeeee youuuuuuuuuuu!" You began to sing. "I loooooovee-"

"Shut up, buddy."

…

The rag was turning warm on your forehead as you propped your head up on the sofa crest rail. Nikaido wouldn't let you lie down, saying that in case of vomiting, you might choke and die. 

Her jacket on your shoulders smells comforting. You tug it close to your body, catching another whiff. It's like being encased in a big hug, without Nikaido being here. She is getting another towel in another room; you can hear the creak of the shelves and her pattering footsteps.

The alcohol rolled in small waves inside your full stomach. Glub, glub, glub. Despite this, you feel endlessly hollow, strangely floaty and cheerful, all of which, simultaneously. You miss her already.

The rag was soon taken off your head, and another one, chilly and wet, replaced it. Nikaido threw the previous warm cloth under the faucet to cool it down. The flow of water and squelching sounds was revolting. You suppose it's because it reminds you of how horrible your digestive organs must feel.

She wasn't making eye contact with you, and to be fair, you don't expect her to either. You're red all over and acting like a zombie. There's nothing pleasant to see. Alcohol is only permitted to be drunk by adults, but after a few bottles, they all turn into children anyway. You feel like a misbehaved child in time-out right now, awaiting further judgment. 

Night has come. The white light from the ceiling was bright, but not bright enough, and the fan buzzed faintly. The room has a cadaverous feeling, where phantoms have the possibility of springing from the sepulchral shadows in the corners. You suddenly want to burst into tears and cry and cry and cry. It’s prickling violently at the back of your eyeballs; however, you won't let it fall. Being sad is pointless and won't change your circumstances. Troubles unceasing, happiness ephemeral. You try to remember some of the great lessons about stoicism from Marcus Aurelius, to no avail. 

No crying allowed, the alcohol should have cried enough for you. 

There's a dip on the cushions beside you, and a cold rag gently moves across your flaming cheeks and neck.

"Feel any better? Drink more water if you can, or else you're gonna be dehydrated," Nikaido murmured. "It'll take some time for you to sober up."

Hearing her voice instantly caused the dam to break into smithereens. Emotions over logic, how painfully human you are. Most importantly, you're relieved she isn't angry or disappointed. You've certainly done enough of that towards yourself, forever and ever. You wrap your arms around her waist and sob.

"Not a good day?" Her voice was soft, one hand slowly stroking your head. 

You nod. The saltiness of your tears mixed with the lingering bitterness on your tongue. Her hold was snug and tight, as if Nikaido was squeezing each droplet of sadness from you. You try listening to her heartbeat, head still swimming and luridly woozy. The thumping was strong and steady, anchoring your own frantic heart, wild with anxiety and seemingly infinite emptiness.

Her cheek pressed against the top of your head. "Don't run away to drink. Find me next time, 'kay? I'll make you some food. No need to ruin your body."

"…Nika," your voice wobbled at her words. The alcohol's just doing the opposite of what you had intended for now. Shouldn't have drunk a drop. Your tear-stained face made your skin feel deathly stiff and numb. "…Sorry for causing you trouble."

She gently wiped the fat teardrop, which threatened to fall off your bottom lashes, with her thumb. Her voice bubbled with warmth. "You're no trouble at all."

You wound your arms tighter around her body. 

"Silly." Nikaido smiled, squeezing you lovingly. "Everything will be fine."

.

.

.

...

Afterword:

Wrote this sad. Want my favourite character to be there for me.

I think if I told Nikaido and Noi my troubles, both of them would pat me on the head and tell me I'm the silliest girl on earth.

Season 3 is announced for Dorohedoro.

So strange, life is certainly worth living. From not wanting to live, to living for tomorrow, and knowing you have 20 years, and another 20 years, and hopefully another 20 years. A whole life of possibilities as long as you stay alive. 

Nikaido x reader oneshot

...

It had been a common depiction in novels, where people who wake from a nightmare are covered with a thick layer of sweat, sensations akin to fire in their lungs and a head wild with discordance. It’s a fiery and obstreperous experience. 

Yet, you wake up cold and hollow, like a noiseless gasp in the void.

The chill seeps slowly into your bones, savouring every quiver it can elicit from you. Any mutiny against the cold, no matter how tightly you curled within the blankets, was futile. The bed was warm, but you felt like ice. Your fingers wiggle out from the top of the blankets, only to realise winter's breath had long arrived.

You shuffle within the thick duvet and turn around, shivering. Half an arm's length away, thick blonde strands splayed messily across the pillow, and half of her bare neck was visible. Her shoulders rise and fall in a gentle rhythm. Nikaido is sleeping on her back, facing a direction unkind to your current needs.

Damn.

You stare at her hair, like molten gold sunlight in the penumbral room, before turning vacuously to the ceiling. No, it would be repugnant to grab her when she is lost in her sleepy languor and forcefully flip her around. You ponder the possibility of surreptitiously turning Nikaido over. However, that idea was quickly dashed again. Things may go awry, as Nikaido is a light sleeper. Nobody would be happy being woken up before the alarm does. Moreover, you’re worried about having a fist to your face if, in her stupor, you were mistaken for an unknown aggressor.

Indeed, there was something cruel about lying beside the person who could effortlessly ease the unhappy frigidness in your ribs and sickening memories of the dream. People in these circumstances would often say the loathsome word 'suck it up'. But it is hardly a crime to mourn.

You could not surrender to sleep again, nor do you want to start the day either. So you just lie there, suffocated by two equally unpleasant choices. You prayed for your guardian angel to do their job, such as miraculously turning Nikaido over, out of nothing.

A crinkle of the blanket. Your heart rose in anticipation, but Nikaido only let out a small snore, and all was still again. Your heart falls to the pit of your stomach. In the end, you decide crumbs or nothing.

Crumbs.

You inch close to her and crane your neck so your face gently rests between her shoulder blades. Your arms lay limp on your sides, not making contact. The texture of Nikaido’s shirt was slightly rough, but it smells so much like her. A little vegetable oil, a little soap and a little of those fragrant scent balls one puts in their wardrobe, so all the stale clothes smell lovely.

Closing your eyes, you try to sleep again. Though the flavours of the dream lingered, just feeling her warmth made everything a tiny bit better.

All of a sudden, strong, clumsy arms close around your body.

“Mm.” Nikaido makes a drowsy, wet swallow.

Your chest swelled. Immediately, you wrapped your arms around her, snuggling your snowy cheeks next to hers. Your guardian angel had answered your call!

Her hold is like a soft, warm cocoon, and you, a little caterpillar in metamorphosis. Her limbs were heavy when they rested against you. It made you feel safe, as if you're no longer some floaty object, like a balloon, rising and in danger of being snatched away or popped in thin air.

"Ugh, you're freezing," Nikaido chuckled. It was low and throaty, her voice still heavy with sleep.

"Sorry, did I wake you up?"

Her hair tickled your nose. You press a gentle, apologetic peck on the side of her face.

Nikaido tangles her legs with yours. "S'okay. Need to wake up soon anyway… Ah, oh wow, even your legs are cold."

"Humph," you laugh, cuddling closer to her. "Seems like you have a lot of work to do."

"Dummy," Nikaido yawned.

She began to gently stroke the back of your neck with a few fingers. You melt instantly. It was tingly and left behind a wonderful prickling sensation, which only made your body crave more of her touch. Once in a while, she'll give your nape a light pinch. You feel like a fluffy ball of dough. Whatever nightmare had swarmed your mind left, and was replaced by the cherished her.

You hum, content.

Nikaido then moves on to drawing simple shapes on your back, her touch featherlight. "Guess."

"Hmmm… triangle," you smile. "… And I think that's a pentagon."

"How 'bout this one?" The strokes became more complicated, ticklish loops and curves, sloping up and down.

"Caiman," you say seriously, after a brief moment of contemplation.

She snorts in disbelief. "It's gyoza!"

"Oopsies."

Nikaido let out another breathy chuckle. "That's better. You were so stiff.”

She rubs your arm. “All warm now, too.”

"Nika.” You blush. She notices everything; that sweet thoughtfulness more often than not made you abashed like a young schoolgirl. You would follow with a giggle, but it was still too early in the morning to have energy for that.

"I've worked hard, haven't I?" She teased quietly, cupping your cheeks.

She gazes at you affectionately, eye corners crinkled and the traces of slumber slowly disappearing. Instead of describing them as simply ‘blue’, her orbs were actually a murky teal. It reminds you of a river at dusk, after the sunset’s fiery reds and yellows have dissolved into blue twilight. It feels expansive, and so hopelessly pretty. You love them dearly.

"What would you like as a reward?" Your middle finger traces the rim of her ear.

She looks away, smiling, pretending to think. "Hm… I'll ponder on that."

You had almost forgotten she was the delayed-gratification type. "No fairrrrrrr!"

"That excited? Then gimme this one for free." She playfully rolled on top of you in a flash, her fingers slipping to the side of your torso.

“…Ahaha—HAHAHA—N-nikaido, p-please, mercy!”

The happy, sugary aftertaste of your reality burst forth, leaving behind the initial bitterness of the bad dreams. She is sugar, piled on top of sugar, and all the things unceasingly nice in your life.

...

.

.

.

Afterparty:

It’s so obvious who my favourite character in drhdr is, not like I'm hiding it though. Who wouldn't have the hots for someone as perfect as her anyway? I can go on talking about Nikaido for ages. When I write for Nika, I start bleeding pink love hearts everywhere.

I’ve been having nightmares and bad dreams almost every night, so I wrote this oneshot to comfort myself. Whenever I have a real tough time, I'll come back and read it. 

How to not sound like a downer? I am a downer, that's why all I write is happy and comfort fics. 

Shin x reader oneshot

...

38.89°C.

You weakly threw the thermometer to your side. A clatter on the floorboards. Where it disappeared concerned you little; another test would not evade the predicament that plagues you in the present. Your throat hurts, your head spins, and you swear you can feel every microfibre of your bed sheet and duvet rubbing painfully against your skin.

Being sick sucks so bad.

Someone is banging on your door. From the hurried pounding and the way it reverberates all the way to your bedroom, you can tell that it was a certain cleaner. He wasn’t doing it intentionally to cause a raucous or disturbance. He is just… absurdly strong, when others would have to throw their entire bodies on the door to recreate the same sounds. Then, again, he is tame considering Noi broke your door hinge by accident last time.

Nevertheless, you had scolded him about this before.

You close your eyes. Which is more painful? Walking to open the door in your current state, or keep listening to him knock?

You chose the latter almost immediately, and thus began to count down.

Ten.

More violent knocking ensues.

Nine.

“I thought they said they’re home!” Shin’s distant grouching echoes in your ear. “I left my spare pair of glasses in the living room…”

Eight.

A shuffle.

Seven.

More shuffling.

Six.

“Wait, I have their spare key.”

Five.

A jingle.

Four.

“Shit! Which one is it?”

Three. He will soon realise it is the one with a red enamel heart tag attached, you thought.

“Ah.”

Two.

The key clicks into the lock.

One.

The front door creaks open.

Despite your weakened state, you still break into a round of muted applause. For yourself, mostly, because you knew your boyfriend so well.

The door to your room burst open abruptly, forcing a glaring flood of light into your dark room. You would squeal in agony if you had the vitality to do so.

“You’re home?” Shin exclaims. “Why didn’t you open-“

You wave your hand dismissively at him. “…Give me a break.”

Even talking makes your head pound harder. You close your eyes, trying to calm your swimming vision, wild with static and dots. “…grab your glasses and go... I’m happy to see you, but… shoo for today.”

“What’s wrong?” His voice is nearer and much lower now.

You like it when he talks like this. It was gravelly, and the timbre so lovely you want to rub your ears. But most importantly, Shin talks like this when he is worried. You could smell the familiar, deep, musky, and metallic scent on him. It gives you some solace amidst the discomfort.

You hold your palm flat towards him. There's but a blur of his figure. Creamy yellow, black and white. When you feel the large hand rest on top of yours, and the scratchy sensation of the stitches on his fingers brushing against your skin, you guide it to your forehead.

“You’re burning.” Shin murmurs, feeling your skin with surprising tenderness. Then he did so with the back of his hand, to double confirm his conclusion, as if the palm and knuckles are two independent sensory limbs.

If you are healthy, a snarky quip akin to ‘no shit, Sherlock’ would follow his obvious comment. But you are completely at both the fever and his mercy today. Your fingers play with a stray seam poking out at the end of his sleeve. What a strange thing it is when he touches you this way. One squeeze from the cleaner and your skull would be reduced to dust, and your brain would explode and squirt out from the pressure.

Yet, you live.

“Did you have medicine?”

You whine weakly. A non-committal answer.

“Your immune system is ass.” The weight on your forehead lifts, and he steps away.  

“Just close my bedroom door… find your glasses… don’t make too much noise when you do it…” You croak in defeat. “… And say hi to dearest Noi for me… Fujita and Ebisu are darlings too… Say hi… say hi…”

“Do it yourself!” He grumbles, fixing his glasses. Even so, dichotomous to his terse reply, the door to your room closed quietly.

You shut your eyes and welcome the embrace of eigengrau. You can hear Shin trying his best to walk soundlessly around your apartment. There is some muttering. He is probably taking calls. He’s always taking calls because work calls him all the time.

What a busy bee he is.

Then you hear a click, and the electrical buzz of your kettle springs to life. Oh, must Shin make himself a latte in the process, just to find his stuff? Licking your dry lips, you turn over. That action in itself burns. Everything: skin, muscle and bone throb a dull ache as if this flesh is no longer yours. You pray to be lulled to dreamland quickly.

Unfortunately, light soon floods your room again, though not as harshly as before. You squeeze your eyes together tighter, in a desperate attempt to block the whiteness which managed to bleed past your eyelids.

“Eat your medicine.”

Your room dissolves into dusk again.

"I'm fine, it's just a fever… let the antibodies and immune cells do their job…" You throw the duvet over your head in an attempt to shorten this conversation. "They're not… that ass."

"Don't be an idiot.”

The duvet is promptly ripped off you, much to your chagrin. You are then effortlessly lifted up, so your back is leaning on the bed frame. A warm glass of water is placed into your hands, and two white tablets hover close to your lips.

"Eat it and go to sleep."

You do as he says. Resistance is pyrrhic; it is better to go with the flow. The lukewarm water acts like a soothing balm down your raw throat. He takes the glass from you once you are done drinking.

You sink into your pillow. "Thanks…did you find your glasses…?"

"Yeah." He pulls the duvet to your chin.

A wave of ineluctable dismay washes over you as he stands up to leave.

"…Have fun at work." You close your eyes reluctantly, and this time, slumber finally pulls you in.

…

You dreamed in fragments, and the fragments were all confusing and burdensome. There were a lot of people in it, none of whom you knew. The scenes were twisting and sinewing together in painful waves. Then you started to see white flicker to black, black to white. Then became words in newspapers. You were rolling newspapers. Now you were running and jumping on a wheel. And then you were not doing anything at all.

You wake up sweaty and scorched. The dreams you have in a feverish state were always delirious and incomprehensible. Sleep did nothing for you except make you thirsty and clammy. You find fevers to be a dehumanising experience. You no longer felt like a person but a thing. A dolorous, unpleasant thing, where one cannot sleep, cannot stand, cannot speak, cannot feel comfortable in one moment, then briefly can in another. You abhor this limbo between sickness and health.

A delicious scent wafts into your room. It smells like the instant chicken noodle soup stashed deep in your pantry.

"…Shin?" You mumble. You thought he left for work. Did you sleep for so long that it had been the next day already? Or is it at an ungodly hour in the morning when he got let off?

Rolling out of bed with some difficulty, you squint and open your bedroom door. The light is searing; you feel as if you could go blind at any moment. The back of your head begins to hurt furiously, similar to someone stabbing you over and over with a blade.

“Shin,” you sniff. You only knew where to go by sheer muscle memory. This is your apartment after all.

Your body soon hit something hard in the kitchen.

“Why’re you out of bed?”

Arms wrap around you, and you sink into him. “… Shin, why’re you here?”

“I told En. I’m not taking the job. Noi said she’ll bring you some ice cream or gelato after she’s done on her side.”

“She’s such a sweetheart.” You press your cheek to his chest, and for some reason, the fabric of his shirt does not hurt your hypersensitive skin. Your heartbeat sings and twirls in elation at the unexpected news. “Thanks… you didn’t have to.”

“Save your breath.” He feels your forehead. “…Burning even worse than before. Back you go.”

“But I want to stay with you.”

“I am here already! The fever is frying your brain.”

He picks you up, and you let him. When your arms snake around his neck, you understand just how abnormal your temperature truly is. Shin is usually quite warm, yet you found his body quite cool in comparison to the raging heat from your skin.

“You don’t listen, no wonder you’re sick,” he scowls as he tucks you back into the covers.

You ignore his scolding, holding onto his hand, wrought with reluctance.

He pinches your cheek. “Oi, let go of me, dinner is done. Unless you want to starve.”

“I'd rather starve than let go.”

He pulls your cheek so hard you yelp.

…

“Come on,” he sighs.

Sickness does something to one’s appetite. It kills the desire for food completely, allowing the body to prioritise more essential organs. Yet, people still must eat, not for themselves necessarily, but almost as a performance, so the people around them feel better. Turns out sickness makes the patient helpless, but that helplessness, like osmosis, diffuses to the people around them.

Hunger was the least of your worries in this state of bodily discomfort. And consequently, Shin had to take measures into his own hands to ensure you obtain some sustenance, upon realising that if he handed you the food, you wouldn’t bother picking up the spoon.

You open your mouth and chew slowly. It was hot, but it did not burn your tongue. Shin had mixed the instant soup with some rice, transforming it into a flavourful congee. Although msg is justice, you still cannot appreciate the flavours properly in your condition.

You feel like you’ve been chewing forever until you swallow. Clearly, Shin thought the same.

He mixed the congee, the next spoonful hovers, and he realises you’re still chewing, the spoon drops back in the bowl. Rinse and repeat, a multitude of times. It must have been foreign to him, considering how fast he eats himself.

On the third spoonful, you presume impatience would override him, and he'd force you to eat by yourself. However, Shin didn’t utter a single word of complaint through the entire process. Not even when the last drop of congee disappeared from the bowl.

He placed the ceramic on the bedside table. “Rest now.”

You latch onto his arm. The thought that he may go home and leave you alone frightens you.

Adulthood is so lonely. When one's wings harden enough to fly by themselves, dependence and the craving for companionship from others feel immature and shameful. It's an inevitable weltschmerz of the human condition. “Stay here.”

“I never said I’m leaving.” He throws his jacket onto the end of the bed and settles down beside you.

He wraps an arm around your torso, and you snuggle closer, pressing a kiss to his jaw. He grunts and begins to pat your back in a gentle rhythm. It parallels a beating heart, as if you’ve returned to being a babe in a warm, tenebrous womb.

“…Feel better,” he says quietly in the darkness.

"Mhm."

You do already.  

...

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.

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Afterparty:

Shin is the type who acts like he doesn’t care but really fucking cares lmfao.

I was just thinking about the fact that he eats fast and carries out tasks really efficiently. I thought it would be nice to have a story where he slows down willingly. If Shin ever has a significant other (if it isn’t Noi, I enjoy their ship a ton). I headcannon that his partner would absolutely adore Noi so much and always ask Shin to say hi to her for them. Also, I think a clingier person suits him very well, since he’s a bit distant and needs to be shown love and care first for him to feel comfortable enough to show it back.

I suppose a sick fic, along with many other comfort fic prompts like thunderstorm comfort, is all writer induction stuff we all end up writing for eventually. Old but gold, cliché but who cares.

Nikaido x reader oneshot (MATURE CONTENT WARNING)

Note: This is a mature one-shot with sexually explicit scenes. Although weak, still, readers beware. 

...

"It's raining," Nikaido remarked, her voice despondent.

You raised your head to look up at the ceiling. A massive, uneven, splotchy grey patch covered the white ceiling. From it, water came in drips, pooling into the oddly shaped buckets scattered across the floor. It was probably from one or two loose tiles, which eventually became a bigger issue from the years of weathering. You looked further, and in the very corner, there was a gaping hole chewed up by an unwelcome family of rats or possums who lived rent-free in your friend's apartment and left before the damage fee was charged.

A noticeable tinge of melancholy had settled between Nikaido's brows.

It was raining indeed.

"Half my stuff is soaked through," she groaned, bunching her damp hair in frustration. "But thank god all my tech is fine. Clothes and shoes can be washed. Oh, but my posters are a goner..."

Nikaido manoeuvred smoothly through the buckets, making her way to examine her bedroom for the second time. "…Hahah! Just water can do some horrid stuff."

You admired your friend's tenacity to laugh through one of many homeowners' nightmares.

"Nika, you're welcome to stay at my place while we patch this place up." You dodged the buckets awkwardly, reaching the doorframe. Even as she stood there under the dim evening light, you could see her jumpsuit glitter with water.

"Thanks, but I'll be fine. I-"

She sneezed. She opened her mouth to speak in a second attempt, before quickly covering her mouth with the inside of her arm and sneezing again.

She accepted your handkerchief. "…If you don't mind."

…

You dipped the thermometer into the water. It was hot, but not scorching. Steam curled from the bathtub, filling the room with hazy, white steam. The aquamarine water blossomed with soft and glowing ripples, oscillating bigger and bigger until it disappeared at the edge of the tub. "Nika, the water is ready!”

"I'm coming!" Nikaido's voice rang muffled from the other room.

You placed the shampoo and body wash on the floor next to the tub. A rush of cold air blew on the side of your face as the door to the bathroom opened.

"The towel and clothes are on the rack." You nodded before exchanging places with her. "Yell if you need anything."

…

You chewed on a pear as you read in the kitchen. There was a distant buzz of the washing machine as Nikaido's clothes spun in a blur from the round window. The makeshift bed on the couch had already been prepared. You eye the clock, there was still some time until dinner. Caiman would be coming over as well. When the chef is good, customers will flock no matter the distance.

The juice dribbled down your hands. You licked it. It was pleasantly sweet. Perhaps it was slightly overripe, but you still liked it a lot.

When you were turning a page, you heard Nikaido call your name. Leaving your book and the kitchen behind, you walked up the narrow staircase, down the hallway to the bathroom. You could see the perspiration form on the painted door.

Your finger grazed the cool doorknob. "Nika, what is it?"

"I… I got shampoo in my eyes. I can’t reach the towel, and the water is all soapy… I can’t see anything. It's burning my eyeballs the longer I try to figure it out myself."

"M-may I come in?" You tapped the knob soundlessly with vacillation. A drop of water from the door splashed onto the back of your hand.

"Yeah, it's fine."

You turned, and big puffs of warm steam kissed your cold cheeks. Blinking, you observed Nikaido with her eyes closed, body submerged in thick bubbles. Her golden hair stuck tightly to her skin like yellow ivy tendrils. Your heart skipped a beat. Quickly tearing your eyes away, you walked to the rack where you left the towel. Opening the faucet, you allowed cool water to soak the ends of a dry corner. Twist and squeeze.

"Thanks," Nikaido mumbled as you placed the cool cloth onto her eyes, so she could orient herself. Her warm, slick fingers brushed against yours. You quivered.

"Don't worry about it." You stepped back and stared at the tiles on the floor. It reduced you to just odd shapes of colour from the uneven surface. You catch a slight glimpse of movement as she rubs her eyes against the towel. "All good?"

"Mhm."

You reached out a hand awkwardly, eyes diverted. "Give me the towel. I'll get you a dry one."

Expecting the texture of the slightly damp and fluffy towel, something warm and calloused wrapped around your hand instead. You almost leapt into the air.

"…Nikaido?" You asked, refusing to turn around. You clenched your other fist tightly, feeling your nails dig into the flesh of your palm to distract yourself. "Do you need anything else?"

Her hand tugged you towards the tub. You began to tread closer, until your hip hit the body of the bathtub. The steam was making it hard to breathe, and the aroma of your favourite shampoo was almost piercing.

You felt the pad of Nikaido's thumb gently stroke the base of your own, and so you finally turned your head to see her. Her skin was pink from the bath. Her cheeks and lips and ears, all lovely and rosy. She had her head lowered, focusing on the milk-white towel. Though her hand still held yours.

"Nika, I am dirty," you say. You had just washed this morning, but how could anyone feel clean next to someone presently lathered in bubbles?

The hand pulled you downward and made itself home on your cheek. Her lips soon melted over yours. It tasted honeyed. Super sweet, like the pear you had prior. Your pulse trembled, and your stomach did flips. Your tongue licked her bottom lip on impulse, but she let you in easily. She was warm and slippery everywhere.

She tasted better than anything.

You two part with a quiet wet sound. You examined her lips. It was nice and swollen, like a ripe fruit. You wondered if, if you were to bite it, would it burst with juices? Before you could ponder on those ideas any further, Nikaido pulled you into the water with ease.

The initial shock of being submerged in water made you choke in surprise, as hot water seeped into your dried clothes and warmed your cold skin. Water lapped over your shoulders and poured out of the tub, splashing across the floor.

"Nikaido-"

She kissed you again with her wet arms around your neck. You liked it and stopped caring about anything else. The water, the weight of your soggy clothes, and how dirty you feel. You don't care. She was the sole master of your heart and mind.

Her body pressed against yours was incredibly supple. Despite your shirt, you could feel the hardness of her nipple rub against the fabric. Your hands glided to her soft breast and squeezed it gently. She gasped lightly against your mouth.

You gave her another chaste kiss before your lips glided to her neck. The lustre of the soapy water on her skin made you think you found a pearl at the bottom of the sea. You dragged your tongue down her neck to her collarbones. At the same time, your fingers carefully kneaded and twisted at her rosebuds.

"Mn…" The edge of Nikaido's voice trembled.

You pressed your ear close to her neck. Her pulse fluttered fast, like a butterfly. It made you happy.

After some time, your hand let go of her breasts and skimmed lightly down to her stomach, exploring her slick skin. Drawing ovals around her belly button, your other hand felt the soft curve of her hips. Her body went taut, then arched languidly. It felt good to learn her body.

Just as your hands brushed the inside of her thigh, a voice boomed downstairs.

"Why is it so dark down here? Hey, I'm here for dinner!"

"Caiman!" Nikaido breathed, letting go of her hold around you. Changing her mind, she clutched you tightly again, then let go, arms hovering, unsure what to do.

"Hellooooo?" Footsteps echoed closer.

Nikaido threw her hand over her mouth.

And you sneezed.

.

.

.

Afterparty:

Bathtub mermaid was a hard one-shot for me... Mostly the posting bit. I always liked the idea of a sensual bathtub scene, but it's weird to post it for other people to read? I chose Nikaido because I surmised that Noi would be too cheeky for the kind of story I want to write.

And yeah, Nikaido can be very sly from what I gathered on canon events. So yeah, she lied about the shampoo. Our girlboss would not make such a rookie mistake. 

I love female bodies immensely at the expense of having no interest in men. I think the female body is the most beautiful thing in this world. As the great Virginia Woolf had said, women alone stir my imagination. But it also disorients me when I come to the realisation I don’t have much of a female readership to share that kind of bond with, which is a shame.

The pear is a reference to its symbolism in the great novel The Safekeep. If you know, you know.

Won't tag this fic to anything due to its more explicit content.

Young Noi x reader oneshot

...

You're very fond of Noi.

There was a certain earnestness that shone through whenever you interacted with her. The petty and often artificial facades most people donned only made her refreshing, candid nature shine even brighter. Though tomboyish and rough around the edges, she was compassionate with a fierce sense of protectiveness toward things she cared about.

You also adored her smile, which was fortunate because she was often found smiling. Her silver hair and fair complexion gave most the impression she possessed a similar temperament to the serene moon, but she was more akin to a bubbling ball of sunshine. She's sweet and an unabated joy to be around.

This made even her negligible shortcomings delightfully precious. Such as having a poor sense of fashion when other girls her age long had understood the importance of colour, texture and silhouette, and had since applied it daily. Or her slight obliviousness when navigating social conventions, bulldozing her way through with sincerity, whilst failing to notice the feelings of others on occasion.

When coupled with her impressive, strong magic, even devils approved of, Noi was a social magnet because there was simply nothing to despise about her.

Therefore, it was all the more world-shattering tragedy when you found out Noi had practically zero friends to speak of.

You thought she was jesting then, but considering how your own limited smoke production and mellow personality probably made you a social outcast, you start to consider the possibility she was telling the truth. It was simply incomprehensible for her to settle for you as a close confidant if she was hugely popular with her vast pick of friendships.

"So what do you think?" Noi asked, bouncing out of the changing room. She was wearing a red coat too big for her small figure, paired with a vivid green skirt… and are those cowboy boots?

You bit your lip as a warning to yourself. Not a single laugh is allowed to escape. Not when your friend was looking at you with such a shining, expectant gaze. Her devil tail swished with exultation. You can’t look into her eyes, or else you'll start rolling on the floor clutching your sides. You focus on her cute horns instead. She was still early in her devil exam.

You let out a spluttering cough. "Um…what, was the dress code again?"

"There's no dress code." She twirled.

"O-oh… then… maybe a more neutral colour?"

Noi pouted lightly. "Gold? Never tried that before."

She immediately disappeared into the racks of clothing. You could only watch in exasperation as she busied herself. En was hosting some party, and Noi was told to come as part of the family. He was usually fine with Noi dressing as she is, since she was only asked to make her presence known. Nevertheless, Noi's clean blouse and black skirt were formal enough in most situations anyway.

She used to never care about this stuff.

You knit your brow. No, she had been acting in an unwonted manner all day.

"Noi," you said, as she came back carrying a pile of heterogeneous dresses in her arms.

"Hm?" She dumped them into her changing room. "I need to hurry, I have training in the next few days, so I don't have time for this afterwards."

She wasn't making eye contact.

You gently took the gaudy blue sequined gown from her grip. "You can tell me anything, I hope you know that."

She turned around, picking up an orange skirt lying on top of the pile. She stared at her reflection with growing consternation before flinging the garment at the mirror. "… the daughter of one of En's business partners was an asshole."

Noi sat down on the bench, her tail limp. "She said I had weird eyebrows… that I look like a vampire with my red eyes and silver hair. She also said my forehead is big, and I eat and act like a country boy."

"Noi…"

"I didn’t care at first, but then she kept saying it over and over. I wanted to fight her, but she said she'll tell on me to En."

"Noi."

"I don't know what I did to her!"

You grab her cheek to snap her out of the lurid woe. "Who is she to you?"

"… Nobody," she mumbled.

"Does she make you happy every day?"

"…No? We're strangers-"

"Does she pick you up when you're down?"

"…No."

"Does she give you food and shelter?"

"No."

"Do you care about her?"

"No."

You swiped her cheek tenderly once, with your thumb. "Her opinion shouldn’t matter then. But there are two lamentable things we can gain from this: she formed an opinion so disastrously wrong. And missed out on a treasure like you."

You turn her shoulders gently to face the full-length mirror. Then, you smooth a strand of her flowing silver hair to the front and adjust the bow at the back of her head. Your voice went soft. "Overthinking does not suit you, Noi."

She rubbed her eyes. "Ugh! I hate this dress-up stuff, I'd rather be doing anything else."

"Come, the ramen shop has a new flavour." You put your hand on her back. "I heard it's smoked lambchops for the topping. My treat."

"I want two bowls!" Her tail began to sway again.

"Even five would be okay!"

.

.

.

...

Afterparty:

I think the majority of Dorohedoro characters are all outcasts in their own right. One of my headcannons for young Noi is that she struggles to fit in with other girls her age, and may have even experienced some bullying due to her differences. So I guess this was a fanfic to explore this idea. People tend to elevate mediocre people as they find them more relatable. Exceptional girls like Noi would often go under people's radar, or even draw some ire without meaning to.

I like to think people become immune to the cruel opinions of others by experience, and not because we're all born with that type of innate self-confidence. 

Shin x reader

Sulfur: Bright yellow. Symbolising cleansing, transformation and growth.

...

"Senpai, why are we tasked with organising the books?" Noi complained as she walked to an empty shelf. In each arm was a small tower of books balanced neatly. "We're cleaners, but not this type of cleaner."

Shin wiped the dust off a book in his hands. He then pointed to the corner. Ebisu was building a fort surrounding a sleeping Fujita with the exact items.

"That's why."

Noi let out a small wail as she shoved them roughly into the bookcase. She picks up one as well and flips through it quickly. "I tried to read one of these when I was younger, but fell asleep and got drool all over it."

"Oh, I know this book," Shin commented, peering past Noi's shoulder.

"Senpai enjoys reading?" Noi grinned, handing it to him.

"Er, no, to be honest. But a friend back in The Hole used to read these books to me." Shin admired the golden embossed picture of a whale. "Never finished this one."

"You had friends in your childhood?" Noi exclaimed excitedly. "So they're human? Where're they now? Why didn't you tell me earlier, senpai!"

"Dunno," Shin mumbled sheepishly, fixing his glasses. "I didn't want to implicate them when I was being chased, so I attacked them. Might have been tortured like my old man otherwise. I heard they were thrown into protection for a while. We never met again, though."

"Senpai…" Noi's face turned solemn. "Shouldn't you go explain yourself? I would be pretty pissed in their shoes."

"That person can put two and two together." Shin scowled, placing the book into the shelf again. "Plus, I left the bookmark I made for them in their pocket before I left. Even a monkey would get what I meant."

The pulsing door flew open as the two cleaners stepped into the portal. Ebisu squealed, waking Fujita up from his slumber with a start. Shin shoved his hands in his pockets, with Noi skipping by his side.

"Senpai, you've changed so much, you reckon they'll recognise you if they're still alive?"

"I think so."

"And no fair! I want a bookmark made by Senpai, too!"

"You don’t even read!"

Sulfur (END)

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.

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Afterparty:

Honestly, I don't have much to say about Shin. I think he is a victim of circumstance, and definitely did not deserve to be screwed over so badly by the world. He could only save himself; no one can really help him tbh. I don't think the reader could either. 

Shin x reader

Sulfur: Bright yellow. Symbolising cleansing, transformation and growth.

...

When you entered the joinery on a gloomy autumn day, a strange feeling hit you.

Shadows clawed itself in every corner. The place was so quiet you could hear your own heartbeat. Or was your heartbeat just very loud today? There was no usual rhythmic sound of hammering or sawing. The main gate was left ajar, and the windows were midnight dark. You didn’t like the presaging crows standing in a line overhead near the eaves one bit, either. 

You walked timidly down the hall to where Shin worked. No carpenters were around; their tools lay still on their workbenches. You hug the book in your hands tightly. Shin would tell you if he isn't working today, right? You'll just check, if not, you'll say hi another day. He spoke little, but eventually, you've edified yourself with the knowledge that there was earnestness behind the surly front. He would be here. He should be here.

Just as you entered the workplace, a sudden nauseating, metallic smell penetrated your nostrils. You staggered and covered your mouth. Foul was too kind a word to describe it. The woodshop usually smelled quite pleasant; they work with all sorts of wood. It's akin to entering a forest... of dead trees, you supposed. Such imprecations were unnecessary. 

"Shin?" You called out, shivering.

Your voice seems to reverberate in the empty hallway. There was no reply back, as if the building simply swallowed it. You didn’t want to keep going, but you didn’t want to leave if Shin was waiting. Your legs forced themselves forward with each tantalising step.

"Shin!" You tried to call out more confidently. “Are you here? I-“

Your foot hit something hard by accident when you reached the doorway to where he worked. You peer down and are greeted by a thin sheen of blood covering a foot. The room was in such a catastrophic disarray that it was almost unrecognisable. It was also red; there was red everywhere in the room. Red, red, red. This would be what hell looked like.

You see him standing in the middle of the room, motionless.

Before you could scream, your body was sent sprawling to the ground, hard. A hand wrapped itself around your throat to prevent you from yelling. It felt sticky, wet and smelled just as sick as the room.

"I'll kill you if you yell."

The voice from the light blonde boy covered in blood from head to toe was raspy. You saw a flash of steel raised in the air. The hammer he used was now coated in crimson. There was still a thin, fleshy, pink strand hanging off the head. You didn't wish to inquire about the origins.

"Shin, are you okay?" Your eyes stung. "What is going on?"

"You don't know?" His eyes were blown wide amidst the river of red smeared across his face. You could see your own cowardly face reflected in his glassy blue orbs.

"Know what?" You ask, speaking more frantically than before. "Why are you covered in blood? Where is everyone?"

Shin eyed you carefully, and then he bit his finger tip and showed you. As a drop of blood dribbled down his finger, you saw smoke particles dance with the liquid. His grip on your neck had loosened. You turn your head slowly to your left, seeing the corpses of The Militia littering the ground, where his father’s cold, torn body also rested.

“They tortured and killed my old man,” Shin said, his voice hollow. "Boss ratted me out.”

Your head was spinning with the information. The heart within your ribcage was pounding so hard, you worried it would splatter and explode.

“… are you hurt?” You sat up, forcing yourself to breathe slowly. You want to get the details, you like details, you love details. But it’s not the time anymore. “Shin, you need to run. The Militia won’t rest until you’re dead.”

Shin stared at you and then laughed once.

“Shin! I’m being serious!” Your voice shook violently, twisting your fingers together hard. “Let’s clean up the bodies right now. Oh, where do we even hide them? Let’s throw them in an alley! You can hide in my house. The shed is big enough for you to-”

“You’re really not with them.”

“Huh?”

Shin picked up the unfinished book you brought that lay limply in the red wastage and wooden splinters. He tried to dust it off, only to smear more blood on the cover.

He lifted it in the air and squinted as he had all done before. “It would’ve been nice to know how this ended.”

Yellow, silver, black.

…

When you woke up, three soldiers from The Militia hovered over you. Your head hurts like hell. They were saying… something. You didn’t like how their stupid masks were all you saw. It was sharp, and hard, and mean. You wanted to see that soft, baby chick yellow again. 

“Did the sorcerer boy attack you?”

“… I don’t know. I walked in… and he…” You mumbled. How much time had passed? Where was Shin?

The voices of the soldiers droned on, but you no longer paid attention. In your periphery, there was torn paper coated in crimson scattered everywhere. Your book. You saw the tattered pieces of the cover in the corner.

Tears began to drip unceasingly down your cheeks as you wailed loudly. It hurts everywhere. You felt like your heart was being ripped in half, and your organs were curdling and corroding away.

You finally understood the strange feeling now, when you first entered the premises.

“Don’t worry, you’re safe now. You were under attack by a half-blood sorcerer back there.” One of the militia put their hand on your shoulder. “You were the only survivor.”

You were lonely again.

Shin x reader

Sulfur: Bright yellow. Symbolising cleansing, transformation and growth.

...

You knew Shin in his younger days.

Your mother’s coworker’s friend’s sister knew his father. And somehow all those strange connections led to your meeting. Your parents insisted he was a good boy, and there was a lot to learn from him. Independent, mature and responsible, raised by an admirable single father.

All that to just say, they wanted you to have a friend.

For some reason, adults thought that if they put two kids of the same age together, they’d just get along because they share the same undeveloped frontal lobes. Unfortunately, you didn’t have many friends, thus lacked adequate social skills. And he was misanthropic and sullen.

“It’s you again,” he said glumly without looking up from hammering the nail into the wood.

“I brought you a snack,” you say, brushing the sawdust off a short bench, before sitting down.

“Thanks.”

“No worries.”

An awkward silence filled the air, save for the sound of a hammer hitting wood.

“So how was your day?” You ask, feeling silly now, trying to practice your poor social skills on a boy like him.

“Work.”

You wait, hoping he’d say more, but he doesn’t. Staring at the messy floor covered in wood planks, you nibble your lip, unsure what to do. You want to reach for your book again. Your mind was blank, and this conversation was hard.

“You don’t have to come.”

Your head shot up. “Huh?”

Shin’s blue eyes finally focus on you. “You don’t have to actually come here. Lying exists. Just tell them you saw me, we talked, this and that. You can go off somewhere else and read for a few hours before returning home. I’ll handle my side too.”

“But…” Your heart sank. Lying isn’t your forté, and there’s a certain cruelty to just abandoning… whatever this non-existent friendship between you in this way. Everything ended before it started, and that’s just not how you like to do things.

“You don’t have to be here if you don’t want to be.”

“I never said I didn’t want to be here!” You squeaked. The adults were right about one thing: a friend would be nice. You were lonely.

“You’re sitting fifty metres from me, hardly any eye contact, and you barely smile. All you do is keep your head down and read! You might as well be one of the planks here.”

But this prick has no empathy at all.

“Do you know what being shy is?” You stand up quickly, your face crimson. You were embarrassed because everything he said was true. When someone chooses to outright point out a vulnerable aspect of a person, the illogical human thing to do is defend whatever puny honour there was to protect. “Then what about you? I’m trying my best to chat with you, and you give me one or two-word replies back. I can’t talk to you if you’re giving me nothing to work with. A-also, did anyone ever tell you, you have a resting bitch face?”

“Hah, now you’re starting a conversation,” he snorts. “And what do you want me to say about my day? Oh, I ate breakfast. I cut some wood, I hammered in some nails, and I made a cupboard. If you want better responses, ask better questions.”

This goody-two-shoes was just a show in front of the adults. He was such a snarky ass beneath all that stoicism!

“Then what do you want me to do?”

“Wha?”

You play with the hem of your clothes, heat rising to your cheeks from shame. You may be plagued with all sorts of inadequacies, but you’re no quitter.

“I accept your criticisms, and I’m…” You suck in a breath, shifting your weight to the other leg. “I’m open to suggestions.”

…

“What’s the new book?”

“Moby dick,” you smile, sitting on the end of Shin’s workbench. “By Herman Melville.”

“What’s it about?” He shoves a snack you brought into his mouth.

“The consequences of obsessive, overwhelming hatred.” You hand him the book to flick through.

“Seems long,” he squinted, lifting it into the air. “The words are tiny.”

“Even so, I still think you need glasses,” you laugh, taking the book back. “Long stories are good. You stay with the characters longer.”

“Mm,” he grunted. “What’s the plan?”

“I need to go home earlier today. The individual chapters within Moby Dick are many, but each is short, so we can get through a bit.”

“Aight.”

You flick through the page and clear your throat. “Chapter one. Loomings. Call me Ishmael…”

The weak yellowish glow of the incoming sunset began to dapple the drab, grey floor of the joinery. The pages beneath your fingertips were smooth and crisp as they turned. Shin had propped his cheek on his hand, staring at the unchanging, dreary scenery from the dusty windows. He was listening.

Some ample progress had been made in this half year.

…

“… For with little external to constrain us, the innermost necessities in our being, these still drive us on."

You pause. “…What a great line.”

You await further input, only to be met with silence.

“Shin?”

Shin turns to you, almost startled. “Oh? Uh, yeah.”

“Shin, we had discussed and agreed upon analysing important lines together,” you complained, lowering the book onto your lap.

“But you’ve said everything I had to say,” Shin grumbled.

“I said it was a great line.”

“Uh-huh, as I had also analysed.”

You scrunched your eyebrows lightly at the boy. He looked shifty, from the way his boots played with the sawdust on the floor. There was already a mini hill scraped together!

“You were daydreaming, weren’t you?” You’re trying to save him some dignity by not outwardly accusing him of not listening at all.

“Yup.”

And he was shamelessly cooperative.

“Okay then,” you sigh, marking where you left off as you close the book. “We can leave it off for today, then. Classics can be a drag in some segments.”

You stood up to leave, but realised the blonde boy blocked your path. Your heart did a small somersault. He had grown; he was slightly taller than you had remembered. Also, his light blonde hair was even paler than you thought, like a baby chick. A soft, fluffy, newborn chick. 

He wordlessly handed you a thin, piece of rectangular-shaped, light coloured wood. You examined it carefully. It was incredibly glossy, with rounded corners. You could see the darker wooden grains spiral across the block like washed-up sea foam. You flip it, and at the bottom, your name is carved messily, dichotomous to the delicate woodwork.

It may not look like much, but it must’ve taken Shin ages to just sand smooth.

“…You can use it as a bookmark,” he muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets. Although the shadows of the joinery concealed his expression, there was a pink tinge on his ears.

If you were any meaner, you would laugh in his face. Shin was a box of surprises, where you could learn something new about him every day. It endeared you immensely to know he wasn’t as nonchalant as he appeared to be. After all, caring was the true cool.

And you’ve learnt he was actually quite cool.

Noi x reader oneshot

To bridge the gap is a mutual effort

遥 (Yáo): Distant, far away 摇 (Yáo):  Rock, sway/swing

...

"Hehe! I haven’t been to your place for a while!" Noi grinned. She was perched on your dressing table chair, admiring your apartment.

"Mmm? A-ah, yeah, haha…" You force a little laugh as you fluff up her pillow.

Her visit was so impromptu and out of left field that you still haven't recovered from the daze of receiving an extra guest for the night. The female cleaner was given a few days off, and she immediately came bounding to your home, eagerly suggesting a sleepover to make up for lost time with her special one.

Noi continued to chatter on brightly about En and the fun she had working with Shin, which you listened to quietly as you prepared the duvets. You tried to stay attentive; nevertheless, it was almost impossible for your mind not to drift away. It was simply disorientating to see her in the flesh. But by no means were you unhappy.

She could never make you sad.

In truth, you had not seen Noi in months, aside from some spontaneous phone calls at random hours on random days. It was to the point where even if you didn't keep your relationship a secret, nobody would believe you were dating her at all. Noi did mention you often; however, you felt out of place in En's mansion, so you rarely visit. Therefore, her acquaintances and friends thought you a folktale and regarded this as another one of Noi's eccentricities, questioning no more on the topic.

You understood her absence. She mentioned she was busy hunting a lizard man and a woman. Work is work for most, but she happened to enjoy her work. That was enviable, even though most would hardly envy her violent job. But still, the majority of people work half their lives toward eventually earning the freedom to do what they love, and she's already at that point. It felt rude to tear her away from it.

"I haven't seen these before. Did you buy it recently?" She chirped, picking up a comb. "It's fancy!"

You had almost forgotten it existed.

The smooth comb beneath her fingers was half opaque, beige and mottled in black dots at the handle. It was carved from the horn of some animal you cannot name. You knew little of the origins, because this was a gift from a coworker who gave it to you in front of everyone. You didn’t have the heart to let them lose face, so you accepted it reluctantly.

Later, you leafed through some books and learned that giving combs was believed to convey longing.

"Mm," you nod slowly, walking over. You gently take the item from her hand. The symbol it carried was sweet, so it should be used on someone equally so.

"I was about to return it, but I remembered a certain someone has nice, long hair." You carefully tucked the back end of the comb beneath the layers of her silver hair and drove it forward slowly, parting her hair in the middle. Flipping the comb back to the top, you ran its round teeth carefully through her silky locks.

Noi hummed happily on the chair. "I missed you."

You almost dropped the comb on the floor. Flustered, your eyes met the beautiful ruby reds in the dressing table mirror. You cast down your gaze in a flash to focus on her hair. You had once told Noi in the past, very long ago now, about your perspectives on certain phrases.

Before you two dated, you confessed to her as friends that you believed words such as "what can I do for you", "I want to spend time with you" and "I miss you" to be words more romantic than "I love you". You said  "I love you" was a phrase far too complex, too vast, but also seemed to promise unfathomably little. People like to overestimate themselves. Simpler words like this gave you more confidence... it might be sincere.

It was just a casual remark belonging to the past; you weren't sure she was even paying attention then. So you're uncertain if there was even anything insinuated beyond those three words uttered. Noi was a straightforward girl, likely to say things as they are. Yet that was why you were taken by her in the first place.

You swallowed hard. It was difficult to meet her eyes. "I missed you, too."

…

Noi snored softly by your side, one arm loosely thrown over your waist. You were propped up with one elbow, watching her sleep.

Her long lashes are so pale, it seemed like they had been kissed by snow.

Noi had even more endearing traits than physical ones. Such as how she moves through life instinctively and almost voraciously. Eating, sleeping, playing, fighting and working, Noi had always permitted herself to experience everything fully with no doubt. There was a sort of cute innocence to it all. She made life look fun.

You lean down. Her ivory cheek was right there; you could kiss it if you wished. You allow yourself to hover over her face for a brief moment in hesitation, before leaning away. You silently slipped away from her hold, bare feet padding softly on the cold floor to the balcony.

In contrast to your modest apartment, the elegant outdoor swing seemed rather out of place. The thick white bars turned into pretty spirals reaching the middle, forming a heart. Noi had gifted this swing set to you for your birthday. She said it was big enough for both of you to sit together and hang out. Although she never sat on it once.

You eased down on the left of the swing, melting into the cushions. It was a cloudless sky, which offered you a view of the stars. The night wind was comfortable, with the occasional brush of a cool breeze. You still wrap your arms around your legs despite the case.

She could never make you sad, because you were capable of evincing it all by yourself.

In truth, your self-abasement told you Noi completely forgot about you. She seemed busy, and you were too shy to ask her to make time. So having her here in your apartment felt like a dream, and because it felt like a dream, sleep eluded you completely. Maybe if you stayed wide awake for as long as possible, this dream would last as long as possible, and Noi would stay as long as possible.

You closed your eyes, enjoying the sway of the swing.

"You're still awake?"

Your head spun right to see Noi standing on the balcony. She was so impossibly lovely that the sight of her almost felt ineffable. The ankle-length nightdress looked even better than you thought. You told her prior that this was an outfit you bought for a costume party, which didn't fit, but really, you purchased it with her in mind. Noi often wore dark colours, but you liked her in white. For someone who almost turned into a devil, there was an angelic glow about her now.

"Can't sleep," you smile weakly. "Sorry, did I wake you?"

Noi sat down beside you, her leg pushing off slightly, so the swing reset itself anew, rocking the two of you back and forth to a new rhythm. She had her hands neatly on her lap. There was a stiffness in her demeanour. You notice she tended to do that when she felt shy. Last time a gorgeous lady flirted with her in the restaurant, she did the same. It was a stark contrast to her usual boisterous energy.

"Had a dream and woke up," she answered faintly.

You leaned your head against her broad shoulders, your hand gently resting on her arm. She was warm. When she was near, you felt nothing in this barbarous world of mud and sludge could hurt you. "Penny for your thoughts then?"

She shook her head, her voice unusually soft. "It feels good to spend time with you after so long."

"… I feel the same."

"So, won’t you move in with me?" She reached to cup your cheek. "En said yes ages ago."

She had asked you this several times in the past, and you've said no to them all. You secretly didn’t like En, nor were you fond of his mansion. 

But you liked her very much.

Your eyes met Noi's again, though this time you didn't hide from the searching, crimson hues.

"…I'd love that," you agreed. Deep down, you knew it wasn't Noi who didn't want to close the space, it was you.

"Yay!" She cheered, her usual enthusiasm returning.

"Grant me a wish, too?"

"Anything!" Noi grinned.

"Give me a kiss?"

The distance vanished in a heartbeat.

...

.

.

.

Afterparty:

I am just amused by the fact that when I initially watched DHDR, just entering high school, my usually emotionless ass screamed in awe when I saw Noi for the first time. It's just so funny that six years have passed already, but I am still screaming in awe.

Had the idea to write this at like 2 am, literally couldn’t sleep until I finished the whole thing. The power this woman holds over me.

I tried to reference Noi's shy behaviour when she was given some girls by En in S2. The way her voice went all soft, and she sat abashedly still, was so cute!!!

Yandere Nikaido x reader part 3 (END)

You're her small bit happiness in a rough life.

Lingchi (凌遲): Slow slicing, lingering death or death by a thousand cuts

...

Ever since bringing you back, Nikaido had not said a word to you.

You squirmed on her bed, feeling the icy-cold compress she made for you using a towel and some blocks of ice on your face. Her face betrayed no emotion, but you've learned to fear that expression from reinforcement. When one passes the stage of fury, they become a violent bomb ready to blow up at any time with no more warnings. The last time she made that expression briefly led to your kidnapping and loss of freedom. You shivered, unsure whether it was from the freezing compress or not.

God, you need to get her to speak. No, no, you need her to yell at you.

"Nika… I'm sorry," you mumbled, hanging your head.

No response.

Nikaido stood at the other corner of the room, her back turned to you, packing away the medical supplies.

You’re too scared to call her name again.

She shrugged off the bloodied and water-spoiled jumpsuit, then snatched a change of clothes and stormed out of the room without turning to look at you. The door was left ajar, the locks were not set, and the restraints were lying limply on the side of the bed. You could technically leave again, but she knew you wouldn't try the same thing again in one night.

You noticed something left behind on the floor, where she had changed. You cautiously sat up and crept out of curiosity. It was round, a very pale silver, the size of those retro phones you see advertised on posters around The Hole. The screen was black, and there were a few metallic buttons on it. You never knew Nikdaido owned something like this.

Your finger hesitated on what appeared to be the on switch. Nikaido does not particularly care if you touch her things without permission, not that you do often. But right now she's angry at you, at least, you presume that was the case. Then again, she was already beyond angry. You knew you were screwed regardless, so what you do now would make no difference.

Upon contemplating for ages and finally reaching an agreeable conclusion, you press the big button on the right. The black screen came to life, and a red dot appeared on the screen.

Beep! Beep! Beep!

Ice flooded your veins instantly.

Click.

You dropped the compress onto the ground, whipping your head to check the space. No one was in this room but you. With quivering hands, you pressed the button again.

Beep! Beep! Beep!

Click.

The sound was from you. You scramble to feel your clothes, the cuffs, the seams, but there was nothing.

Your legs gave out as you watched your reflection in the black screen of the device. It was a tracker.

You had no chance of successfully escaping to begin with.

Another fragment of memory scratched the back of your mind. It was a blur, but you also heard a click when you were tackled. Does that mean Nikaido had long since arrived and just watched it all-

"I was wondering where I left it. Thanks."

A figure towered over you at the doorway. Small, crystal-like drops of water were still dripping off her hair, and a white towel was thrown over her shoulders. She smelled faintly of a sweet, fruity shampoo you liked.

Your arms hurriedly dragged your body backwards, away from the woman standing at the threshold. "Nikaido, what is this?"

"Didn't you play with it already?" She threw her towel onto the bed.

"I didn't find a tracker on my body."

"Because it's inside," she replied, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"…Inside?"

"It’s attached to the insides of your stomach. Pretty neat invention, yeah?"

With her words, everything else snaps into one piece.

"The metal thing you slipped into my mouth!" You stood up, your hands shaking as you held the tracker in your hands. Your vision began to blur. "Was that why I had stomach pains in the past?"

"…Why are you mad?" Nikaido drawled, smiling at you.

"Huh?"

"…Why the hell do you sound wronged?" Her upturned lips twitched; her eyes were not merry.

Uh oh.

In a flash, your throat was grabbed violently, and you were slammed onto the bed. The air was knocked out of your lungs. The tracker clattered to the floor, sliding somewhere. Suddenly, all the injuries you had gained before all started throbbing at once.

Blonde strands curtained your face. Her face was only a few centimetres away from you. You felt like a cornered animal, about to be eaten by a lioness.

"…Why the hell do you sound wronged?" Nikaido snarled again. "You're the one who broke your promise. You're the one who ran away. Yet, you're the one upset!"

You could not breathe. Nikaido's friendliness and gentleness made you forget what she was capable of. Your fingers pulled at her hand miserably to let go with no avail; it's akin to trying to move an iron bar.

"I… so…rry…" You barely wheeze out.

"I keep telling you to stop saying shit you don't mean!"

You could no longer squeeze words out. Your mind was beginning to feel floaty and light.

"…Why do you make things difficult for me?"

Something warm splashes onto your cheeks. The force around your neck was gone. You gulped air hungrily, while Nikaido buried her face into your chest.

You could see her shoulders shake. Listening to her anguish, almost mechanically, your arms numbly wrapped around her trembling form.

"...Why don't you just stay where you are?" Her voice was thick.

"I'm sorry," you mumbled. "I'm sorry, Nika."

There were so many questions between you still. So much to say. So many feelings. So many grievances. But it was hard to hate her when she adored you so desperately.

.

.

.

...

凌遲 afterparty

Hi, initially I had planned to make a separate post regarding an afterword inclusive of more yandere Nikaido thoughts and just general discussion of my choices, I guess. However, part 3 was shorter than the rest, and I just decided to put it here, so anyone reading this doesn't have to jump to another post. My writing will be incredibly messy and scattered, but I guess that's the charm of the after-party.

Regarding the plot of part 3, I actually initially planned for Nikaido to break one of the readers' legs. However, I ultimately decided against it. That was why Nikaido was deadly silent, because she was contemplating the idea very carefully, but decided not to go through with her impulses. Honestly, I think the leg-breaking thing probably fits some other characters more, like Noi, for example.

This is all just my opinion, though. Since Noi isn't plagued by a fractured sense of identity like Nikaido, she would have a higher level of delusion. Whereas Nika is the one I consider a completely lucid yandere. I think if Nikaido broke the reader's leg, she would struggle to sleep for ages due to extreme guilt. It just wasn't worth it on either side, and she would hate hurting people she loves.

Lingchi was written from an accumulation of some messy yandere imagines I wrote on my notes app past midnight. I was just brainstorming ideas of what yandere Nikaido would be like for fun, and I thought it was enough material to write a short story. I think Nika actually has a lot of traits which is already borderline yandere? Her extreme loyalty, protectiveness, willingness to kill for the people she cares about and also her immense capacity for great love. I was also attracted to her self-sacrificial nature to endure overwhelming suffering without a single complaint. That's why I would almost argue yandere Nikaido isn’t actually too far off…

But in actuality, the one who adore her desperately is me, haha! She is such a wonderful woman. I mean, who would refuse Nikaido? Receiving her love is like winning the lottery.

I'm not sure if I'll write yandere Nikaido again any time soon, unless I have a new idea I want to explore I haven't in the story. I think it's more realistic for the reader to pine for Nikaido, not the other way around, since she's such a mad hottie.

Regarding the way I portray the reader, I guess I have trouble depicting them as strong people or even sorcerers. Because as readers we're all human, and I just can't fathom even imagining myself as crazy strong or powerful. Even if I am a sorcerer, I'm not sure I can even release enough smoke, much less have flashy magic. I just can't write what I cannot imagine myself doing. Sorry, I'm a total amateur at writing.

I'm pretty much completely off social media, and I dislike posting my work online. But I just think maybe there's another Nikaido sucker who also enjoys self-inserts like me.

Yandere Nikaido x reader part 2

You're her small bit happiness in a rough life.

Lingchi (凌遲): Slow slicing, lingering death or death by a thousand cuts

...

You ran away.

You weren't exactly sure why you did so, either, considering there was nowhere to go. There was no home to return to. You have no family, and you couldn't turn to your friends and acquaintances for help, or else Nikaido would find you immediately. You have nothing on you, no money or fight. Walking like this through The Hole was practically seeking death. Yet, people desire what they don’t have, and you desired your autonomy and freedom after being locked inside Nikaido's room for months on end. When weighed against your life, you chose the former with all your human irrationality.

The tall, rusting wire fences, grim, misanthropic buildings, and muddy scenery of The Hole were hardly a place of relief. But when coupled with the mesmerising full moon in the blue hour, which bathed the world in a comforting white glow, your mind was at ease. The clouds have departed, and the starry twilight sky is full of possibilities.

Mud splattered onto your thin pants as you hopped to avoid the puddles from the rainfall. You had been walking for a long time now, and your mind began to wander.

Nikaido was good to you. In fact, spending time with her only confirmed for you that she was indeed the most thoughtful and punctilious person you've ever met. Yet that also meant she never left you in the room alone unless the door was triple-locked, never forgot to tie the cord around your wrist before you slept, and never failed to take any measures to ensure you stayed where she left you.

But hours ago, when the midnight rain still hammered down hard, she came back tired. She never told you the specifics, whether you asked or not. You let her lie on your lap and stroked her hair until she fell asleep. She didn't tie you up; the door was unlocked, so you just stood up and left. It was even easier than it sounded.

You had a vague plan after leaving. Go deeper into The Hole from the outskirts, beg for a job and try not to get killed or conned or both. Now, that was harder than it sounded.

Oh, but the moon above was so lovely, pale and serene. You had to forcefully tear your eyes away, quickening your steps. You prayed Nikaido would sleep until morning; by then, hopefully, you would have found a shelter or job, or at least somewhere to hide. Perhaps you sounded relieved, or apathetic from escaping your so-called captor and friend, but the dull ache in your chest said otherwise.

Aside from being restrained in a room for most of your days, Nikaido mostly treated you no differently before your imprisonment. There was chat and banter, you'd listen to music together, and she made you yummy meals. She gave you everything she could to compensate for your lack of autonomy. Puzzles, books, trinkets stacked aplenty. Even when you were sick, such as tummy aches and migraines in the initial few weeks, she would fuss by your side from day to night.

She also brought you down for a walk at midnight around the block once a week. You were too afraid to shriek for help, because the walk was so normal that it felt anomalous to suddenly yell. If you did have the audacity to commit, the walks might not happen ever again. Maybe Nikaido was counting on that fact, because she knew your overthinking ass brain well.

When your mind began to go crazy under the isolation, you cried and begged her to let you go outside. Although Nikaido was sympathetic to your pleadings, she remained impervious. You gradually escalated to aggravating her when you recognised that she acknowledged your tears, but she won't acknowledge the root cause. You threw things at her, mostly the puzzles and books, which won’t hurt. It was the physical manifestation of your frustration with the intention of conveying to Nikaido how upset you were. She was unmoved by those attempts also. After the items were thrown, she takes it away from you. And you'd understand soon enough, you'd rather have some entertainment than none at all.

Reaching the limit, once when she was feeding you, you bit her hand. Your teeth clamped down hard, refusing to let go. Again, it was a display of aggression with no genuine desire to truly inflict pain on her. You had thought, maybe, from the surprise and sting she'd relent. However to your dismay, Nikaido simply let you. Even when you accidentally drew blood, she smiled and said nothing of it. She went back to feeding you as if the hiccup never occurred.

You had to eventually bandage her hand yourself, when you understood she had no intention of treating it. No punishment accompanied that event either, despite somewhat anticipating it every time she reached to touch you. Soon, it could be comprehended that Nikaido was completely lucid of what had transpired. From kidnapping to your imprisonment, she had accepted your bite as some sort of punishment.

Giving up felt like the only option, back then.

All you saw was Nikaido in your captivity. No one else asked for you, no one looked for you. It was no different than being dead. Your insides shivered at the brief thought that, without her, no one in this world would care about you at all. You're trading whatever distorted affection you could receive for a world that gave and promised you nothing.

Splash.

Beep.

You froze.

Whirling around, the dark alleyway stares back at you, with the distant glow of a street light. There was nobody there. You began to slightly jog, keeping in mind to dodge all the puddles so you can keep your ear out for any sounds.

False alarm. False alarm.

Splash, splash, splash.

Beep, beep, beep

You break into a run, but the splashing turned footsteps and mechanical beeping continued behind you, and all around you. You broke into a sprint.

"I have no money!" You sob, while racing across the desolate alleyway.

Your legs felt like lead, heavy and unused, yet were suddenly forced into extreme acceleration. Your chest burned like fire despite the razor cold air scraping at your skin.

SPLASH! SPLASH! SPLASH!

Beep! Beep! Beep!

Tears threaten to leak from your eyes. Oh, why was your luck so horrific? Why are the footsteps and beeping only getting louder, despite running away at full speed?

Beep, beep.

Before you could squeal, the pursuer violently slammed you to the ground, knocking the air out of your lungs. A rough, gloved hand clamped itself around your mouth, and something chilly was pressed against your neck.

Beep.

Your dazed eyes finally focused on the attacker. You're uncertain to be more frightened or less, given you recognise this person's face.

"Finally found yer, yer sure disappeared for months."

It was the guy you patched up.

Click.

He seemed a little different than before. There was an eyepatch over where his right eye should be, and the hand which muffled you was missing two fingers.

You wriggled furiously, only to have the blade pressed against your blade harder, drawing a thin drop of blood. He wasn't here to save you, clearly. However, nothing had transpired to warrant him to desire your life either.

"Why?" You whimpered. The sound came out pitiful and muffled, but he appeared to understand.

"Don't act like a saint to me, no one is buying yer shit acting!" He snarled, his fist landing on your left cheek.

The pain made your head spin. You taste something metallic in your mouth, and the side of your face receiving the impact had lost feeling.

"I… don't understand," you squeezed out with difficulty.

"Yer don’t understand killing all my buddies?"

"I didn't kill anyone-"

"Yer sent that blonde bitch to murder all of us! You think bandaging me will take us off yer trail?"

"What?"

"Stop acting innocent!"

Another punch.

"Why… she… kill you?" You mumbled, blood dribbling from your lips. If you're going to die, might as well die a knowing person.

"Yer told that blonde whore to send their heads to me in the hospital. That bitch has been chasing me still!" He flipped his eyepatch up, and all you saw was a hole where the eyeball should be.

He began to ramble, his remaining eye twitching from madness. "I'm gonna decapitate yer. Yeah, I can do better, I'm going to use yer as ransom to torture that bitch-"

Something cold splatter across your face. The man's face in front of you was gone.

No, his entire head was gone.

You could hear the dreadful thud as the head finally made impact with the ground overhead, and his body fell to the side. Dear god.

"You idiot!"

A clank of metal, and a flash of yellow.

"Nika," you sobbed in relief.

Nikaido checked your body for injuries with a panic-stricken face. Her fingers tenderly touched the swell on your bruised cheek and fresh blood on your neck and mouth.

"It's okay now," she whispered, her voice wet. She gathered you into her arms and you were lifted up with ease. "Let's go home."

Clinging to her neck like a lifeline, you allowed her to do as she pleased.

Yandere Nikaido x reader part 1

You're her small bit happiness in a rough life.

Lingchi (凌遲): Slow slicing, lingering death or death by a thousand cuts

...

It's been a couple of days and nights. You weren't privy to the specifics, unfortunately.

Actually, it might've only been a day or so. Your brain tends to dramatise the situation, because whatever happens never strays too far from the truth anyway. You've been given something to drink, and now you're here. Nevertheless after awakening, your head is still woozy.

You try another futile attempt to wriggle your arms and legs against the restraints for the gazillionth time. Third time was not the charm, and the gazillionth turns out not to be an exception either. The knotted cord on your hands and wrists was stubborn, just like the person who put you in this predicament. It feels like a round sort of cord, in an attempt not to hurt your skin. It was a sweet gesture, you suppose, if every cloud must have a silver lining.

Oh, you couldn’t speak either. Did you forget to say? Haha… oh, it's not funny? Sitting on the floor in darkness for ages on end without the knowledge of what's coming does something to one's psyche. You think you've reached a stage of deliriousness, which either makes or breaks someone. You need to entertain your mind; otherwise, you'll actually go crazy.

It was hard to swallow; your throat was parched. If only you could lick your dry lips, too. There was a cloth over your mouth, so whatever scream or yell you could muster was muffled and so, so pathetic. At this rate, you decide that you were so thirsty that a drink from whatever concoction Nikaido gave you was acceptable to quench your thirst.

She has never treated you cruelly, and even when you're in this predicament, the details show that she cared. You're friends. That's right. It was some sort of mistake. It has to be. Or some sort of misunderstanding?

Nikaido brought you to her attic, saying she wanted to show you something. And now you're bound up. You wished something greater had happened, but that was really about it. She's not the one to pull pranks like this, but you really wish this were just a prank. You just want to laugh it off and return to whatever normalcy you have in your life.

Collapsing on the cold wooden floorboards in despair, anxiety gnaws at your stomach like bugs. You've replayed the day it happened in your head many times over, especially all the moments you've spent with her. Nothing you've done should've warranted the fate you're subjected to now. You thought the two of you got along well. So well, in fact, she was considered someone dear to your heart, like family. The sinking feeling in your stomach tells you that it might just be your unchecked egotism and arrogance in assuming the feeling was mutual.

You close your eyes, trying to breathe slowly through your nose. Whatever happens, will happen. The Hole is such a bizarre, barbarous place. The people who dwell in it are so too. You're no exception; even if you were not, you've faced enough strange things to simply… accept them quickly. Calm down.

The floor was hard against your body; it was uncomfortable to sleep on, with your face squished against the wood. Yet you somehow managed to doze off, from the aching lull of darkness, along with what's left of the mysterious liquid in your system.

By the time you wake again from an uneasy slumber, your back will be on something soft. An unfamiliar ceiling greets you. You try to sit up, only to realise you were still tied up like before. Wriggling and writhing weakly, you turn your body to your right with a grunt.

The same huge poster of an indie performer was plastered on the door. A crimson headphone was thrown haphazardly onto the floor, but still connected to a well-loved CD player. By its side, a few familiar rock band CD cases were also scattered messily on the floor. Colourful, miscellaneous posters were taped on the wall. You've admired them all before.

Because this was Nikaido's room.

As if on cue with your sudden revelation, the door swung open, revealing the owner of the room.

"You're awake," Nikaido exclaimed cheerfully. Her yellow hair was tied up high. She was wearing the same black crop top and ankle-length leggings the last time you saw her. She was, without a doubt, the same Nikaido you befriended.

You wriggled the cord around your wrists, shrinking to the wall. Her present nonchalance alarmed you.

In her hands was a tray with a steaming meal and a glass of water. Despite your anxieties, your traitorous stomach betrayed you almost instantly.

She placed the tray on the floor next to the bed and knelt next to the bed.

She laughs sheepishly. "Sorry, did this all on a whim. Caiman asked me to go help him train, and then we found two sorcerers and dealt with them. I didn’t want to refuse him, just didn't realise we'd take so long."

Her voice was low and kind. "I didn’t forget about you. I was thinking about you the entire time I was away."

You try to reply, only for an ugly croaky sound to come out from your throat instead. With some shame and embarrassment, you stopped to protect the last shred of whatever dignity you had left.

"Ah!" She laughs again, removing the cloth around your mouth, and presses the cool glass of water to your lips, which you drink greedily. You had almost forgotten what initially landed you in this state.

There was a small, unsettling smile permanently stretched across her lips ever since she had entered the room.

You coughed and tried again. "Nika…what is this?"

Your voice was so weak and quiet, you worried if she heard you at all. Nikaido tossed the cloth onto the floor and picked up a plate of gyozas.

"Hm?"

The golden crust on the perfectly pan-fried gyozas made your mouth water. You firmly tore your gaze away from it and stared deep into the blue hues. "…Why am I tied up?"

She hummed and picked up a plump gyoza with chopsticks. She blew on it gently. "The same reason why most people tie living things up."

She presses the gyoza to your lips, wordlessly asking you to open your mouth. Your mazy mind tried to decipher her vague answer while fighting the urge to bite down.

You just wish for this strange dream to end.

Turning your head away, you ponder for a few moments while staring at Nikaido's white duvet. It was the only way you could answer without the chance of being silenced by a gyoza shoved down your throat. It was the first thing that came to mind. It was a ridiculous answer, but suitable for the equally ridiculous circumstances.

"…so they don't move or run away?" You say dumbly.

Nikaido breathed through her nose, as if suppressing a chuckle. "Good, eat now."

A warm, but firm hand holds your chin, and the gyoza is pressed against your mouth again. You struggle hard against her grip and win. You turn to the other side.

"…Why?" You shook your head in disbelief. Nikaido was an easy person to chat to, yet it felt like you're talking to someone else entirely.

"Then would you stay in this room, or at places where I can see you every day?"

"But why would I do that?"

"Safer that way."

You hear the chopsticks clink on glass. Thinking Nikaido has given up, you finally lift your head to look at her. An overwhelming strength pulled down your chin, before you could yelp in surprise, something warm and crispy was shoved roughly into your mouth.

"I saw you patch up the same few guys who tried to mug you last time," Nikaido commented, wiping her hands on the rag. Then, she leans forward to tenderly wipe the crumbs around your mouth. She was still smiling, though it was beginning to thin.

You chew rapidly, listening to her words, the flavours barely registering on your tongue as you recall the memory. It was some moons ago now. You get mugging attempts all the time because you look like a pussy. You were outnumbered, and if Nikaido hadn't happened to be shopping in the same area, your face would've been torn off.

The food tasted like sawdust in your mouth when you registered the gravity of the situation, upon her mention of the event. Don't do dangerous things alone without her.

"How did you know?" You whisper guiltily, swallowing after some difficulty.

"Buddies."

"I-it wasn't the guy that was trying to kill me! It was one of his other friends! They weren't trying to hurt me this time. He'll bleed to death before he makes his way to the hospital… You were busy, and I only wrapped it up with some leftover clean rags…" You trail off under her glare.

"You promised me." Nikaido lowered her eyes. She chose to focus her attention on slowly folding the rag that she had previously thrown onto the floor into a neat rectangle.

"I'm sorry for worrying you, Nika," you said, licking your salty lips nervously. "If saving me bothers you, you don't need to save me. I didn’t mean to involve you in my shenanigans. I don’t have the expectation… truly."

You're barely passable at fighting back, so makeshift sprays and even fleeing were just common practice for you. By natural selection, your kind of puny human should already be extinct in The Hole. Especially if that someone might also possess a monumental disadvantage, where even having to fathom hurting others was difficult. The only reason there were still people like you around is the existence of stronger, altruistic people like Nikaido who would step in to lend a hand.

"Our promise means nothing to you," she remarked quietly. The rectangle was placed neatly onto the edge of the tray.

"I didn't mean to break it. I just… once a person is gone, they really are gone. That sucks," you mumbled.

"What about you?"

"Hm?"

"If you die?" She repeats.

"Well... I didn't die. And, humans are born to die, if, um, it's unpreventable..."

Nikaido fell silent to your answer. She busied herself, adjusting the cords around your wrist so it doesn’t chafe too much. You thought she didn't hear you, so you opened your mouth to reiterate your meaning in a more articulate manner, but she began to speak.

"So you should understand why you're here now."

She picked up another piece of gyoza, with chopsticks this time. "Open your mouth."

"Nika-"

"Don't make me repeat myself."

Her voice was frigid, so you complied obediently.

...

It was nighttime, you would guess, when Nikaido returned. Her hair was down, blonde strands spilling down her shoulders like sunshine. She said little as she changed. You have your back to her, staring at the blank wall her bed was pressed against.

Eventually, there was a dip in the mattress behind you. The coils around your arms and legs loosened to your relief. Your heart rose; it was clearly just some sort of small punishment! A spoil in her mood!

You felt her hands gently rub the coil imprints on your wrists. Before you could celebrate your liberation further, your right wrist was promptly tied to the wrist of the woman beside you. Gloom cast over you again.

You didn't struggle against her doing. Goodness, imagine raising a fist against a dear friend. Second, one punch from Nikaido might actually send you to the pearly gates. All this was worthy to contemplate before reckless action. Perhaps you are not so stoic against the face of death as you initially presumed.

Her arms found themselves around your torso, her chin resting on your shoulders. Nikaido let out a small sigh.

"…Mm, feels good to have you here," she said softly.

"Nika... when can I go home?" You ask meekly.

"This is your home."

You flip around to see Nikaido's face, hoping to see her grin and say that it was all a joke. Her face was blank, with not a hint of mischievousness. Worse, you think she might be a little angry, from the grave tone in her voice.

"Though you are metaphorically my home, I-I'd like to go back to the physical one," you stammer, suddenly unsure how to pacify her discontentment. "I broke my promise, but I swear I'll do better."

"Pretty words."

"Nika, please…"

"Do you not like living with me?"

"That… that's not what I meant. I just… all this… all of a sudden," you tremble.

"If you can’t value your life, hand it to someone who does."

"Nikaido-"

You felt a pair of something soft press against your lips. Before you could let out any sound, her wet muscle slipped into your mouth. Accompanied it was something round and cold. You had no choice but to swallow. You felt the lingering chilliness in your throat.

When she was sure you had eaten it, Nikaido's lips reluctantly drifted from yours. A thin string of saliva connected your tongues.

"Nika, what was that?" You panted, flushed.

"Medicine. Sleep now."

Nikaido's face disappears into the crook of your neck. You try to shuffle slightly, but realise her staid arms are firm.

"I'll give you some ointment if it's still red tomorrow," she whispered.

The room was warm, and her body was cosy and snug. Yet goosebumps rose on your skin.

There was a wall behind you, a ceiling above you, the floor beneath, and Nikaido in front of you. You find yourself caged within four walls, unsure how to escape.