Kuina Hikari - Blog Posts

How Kuina and Ann feel after being the most iconic duo in the show and clocking everyones teas:

>_<

No way Alice I'm Borderland was out here giving good trans rep in like 2010 and no one ever talked abt it

"So tell me then, how will it be?"

Inspired by that one trend of course. Ummmm nothing much to say except I love them sm😓 They're my favorites and I hope they don't die yes👅 ok back into my hole!

Game of hearts || C.S

A Alice in Borderland smau, no boderlands au, and there also in college, I hope you all enjoy this <3

Part 0: Profiles

A/N: I hope you all enjoy this :)) the next part will be out as soon as possible

Hello? How are the readers on Tumblr? I hope well. I’m here to invite you to check out my work. I’ve recently taken a break (still on it, but will be back soon). I used to write only for the "Scream" franchise, but now I’d like to write for other fandoms such as: Squid Game, Alice in Borderland, All of Us Are Dead, Arcane, Percy Jackson.

I would love to know if you could support my work, please! Thank you, dear ones.

Me and my gf

me and the bad bitch i pulled by being silly

⋆.˚೨౿ female characters that i hold dear to my heart

part 1 | part 2

Kuina Hikari !!

“Evermore”

Kuina Hikari x F!Reader

Genre: Angst + Fluff, Hurt/Comfort (no borderlands)

Warnings: Grief, death of a family member (non-graphic), mentions of depression

It’s raining.

Because of course it is.

You don’t remember much from the past few days. Just static. A fog so thick it clings to everything. your clothes, your eyes, your thoughts. And now it clings to the sky too, grey and heavy like your chest.

You sit on the edge of Kuina’s bed in your hoodie, legs pulled up to your chest, cheek pressed to your knees. You haven’t changed clothes in two days. You haven’t eaten in one. The funeral was yesterday, but you only remember the sound of the dirt hitting the casket.

Your voice is a ghost in your throat when you finally speak.

“Kuina…”

She’s been sitting beside you in silence for hours, not touching you unless you reach out first. She’s good like that. Too good.

She hums softly, like she’s afraid you’ll shatter.

You stare out the window. “I don’t feel real anymore.”

There’s a pause. The air is thick with it, then-

“I know.”

Two words. That’s it. But they hit harder than anything else has since the call. Since they are, it became your new reality.

And Kuina reaches over, careful, gentle, her fingers brushing your hand, then slipping in between yours. Her palm is warm. You’re freezing.

“I know it doesn’t feel like it,” she says slowly, “but you’re still here. I see you.”

You swallow hard. “I wish you didn’t.”

“I know that too.” Her voice cracks, just barely. “But I’m not leaving.”

You want to tell her it’s not fair. That she doesn’t have to play therapist. That she shouldn’t have to sit with you when you can’t even say the name of the person you lost, when your lungs don’t feel like they want to work anymore.

But she’s already seen the worst of you. The version of you that screams into pillows and cries on the bathroom floor and forgets how to breathe in the middle of a sentence. And she’s still here.

So you say none of it. You let your head fall onto her shoulder, let her wrap her arm around you like she always does when the world gets too loud.

⸻

It’s dark outside when she finally coaxes you to eat something. Nothing big. Just a few spoonfuls of soup she made hours ago and kept reheating on the stove. You sit on the couch, blanket draped around you like a shield. Kuina kneels on the floor in front of you, bowl in her hands like you’re the most delicate thing she’s ever held.

“This is stupid,” you mutter, embarrassed. “You’re not my nurse.”

“Nope,” she replies with a smile so soft it aches. “I’m your girlfriend. Which is better, because it means I care even when you’re stubborn and grumpy and don’t want to eat the soup I slaved over for twenty minutes.”

You almost smile. Almost.

She sets the bowl down and presses her forehead to your knee. “You don’t have to be okay yet. But you have to stay. With me.”

You blink fast, trying not to cry again. “I’m trying. I swear I’m trying.”

“I know,” she whispers, kissing your knee like it’ll stitch the cracks back together. “I’m proud of you.”

That’s what finally breaks you. Not the death, not the funeral, not the endless “I’m sorry”s from people who never really knew the person you lost. It’s Kuina. Sitting on the floor, warm hands and warm heart, whispering, I’m proud of you, like you’re worth something even when you feel like nothing.

⸻

You fall asleep on her chest that night, her heartbeat loud and steady against your ear. At some point, you wake up—sweaty, breathless, from a dream you can’t remember—but she’s already holding you. Fingers in your hair. Voice in your ear.

“You’re okay,” she murmurs. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

And maybe you believe her. Just a little.

⸻

Later that week, you cry again. Not because of a memory. Not because of a bad dream. Just because. And when you do, Kuina doesn’t flinch. She just holds you. Lets you cry into her hoodie until your throat’s raw.

And when it’s over, she tilts your chin up and kisses your tear-streaked cheek. “You’re allowed to break. I’ll be the glue.”

⸻

You don’t heal all at once. Grief is never neat like that. Some days you still go quiet for hours. Some days you smile at something stupid that she said and then cry because the person you lost will never laugh again.

But Kuina’s always there. Making late-night pancakes. Doodling smiley faces on your notes. Holding you when the world feels too heavy. Reminding you that you’re still here. That you’re loved.

And one morning, you wake up beside her. Tangled in sheets, sunlight cutting through the blinds, and realize that even though the pain is still there…

The fog is lifting.

The static is fading.

And you’re real again.

Because she never stopped seeing you.

Even when you couldn’t see yourself.

“Sanctuary Amidst the Chaos”

A/N: First oneshot im sorry if theres any mistakes somewhere🩷 i wrote this cause THERE ARE ABSOLUTELY NO FICS OF HER💔😭 someone has to write for my bae

Kuina Hikari x Female Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Angst with Soft Fluff

Setting: The Beach

Word Count: ~3,500

Pent-up energy vibrated through the hotel's dim hallways. The laughter and music drifted through the walls, a backdrop to the tension that stained the beach. It was a place of forced brotherhood, where survival would depend on blocs and the acquisition of playing cards.

You were lounging in the corner of your dorm room, the hum of the air conditioner the only sound to accompany you. The bed next to you was empty, its bedsheets spotless—a quiet reminder that Kuina was not there.

She had departed hours before to do a game, one of the more dangerous ones. The kind that tested not only physical prowess but also mental toughness. You knew that she could manage it, her martial arts training giving her an edge. But the Borderlands were fiendishly unpredictable, and even the toughest could tumble.

The door creaked open, breaking you out of your stupor. Kuina stood in the doorway, her shadow divided by the flashes of light in the corridor. Her uniform was in shreds, grime and blood smearing across her face. But her eyes are what you noticed—anguished, distant, and brimming with an unhappiness she was trying to hide.

She slipped in quietly and closed the door. You rose to embrace her, arms around her in a hug. She leaned against you, her body trembling.

"I'm here," you whispered, guiding her to the bed.

She sat on the bed, fingers intertwined in her lap. "It was… horrid," she whispered. "We lost two people. I couldn't save them."

You knelt before her, grasping her hands. "You did what you had to do. It's not your fault."

Her tears filled, one crawling down her face. "I keep telling myself that, but it doesn't make it easier."

You carefully reached up, brushing the tear away. "Let me help you forget, if just for a moment."

She nodded, and you removed her jacket to treat her wounds. While you were bandaging the cuts and scrapes, she recounted again to you the terrors of the game—the traps, the deceptions, the final moments of those who hadn't made it.

You listened, offering quiet comfort, your nearness balm to her exposed nerves. When she fell silent, you lay down next to her, holding her close.

"I don't know how long I can keep this up," she confessed.

"You don't have to do it alone," you replied. "We'll deal with whatever happens together."

She looked up at you, a tiny smile playing at the edge of her lips. "Thank you."

You kissed her forehead, holding her close as slumber enveloped her. In the midst of the beach's devastation, you were reassured in the arms of each other—a haven where love still flourished despite the utmost despair.