#and how i love the borderlands universe because of it

[sleepy-crypt1d]

i love the idea that jack is a nerd about space, why? because im a nerd about space and also that man needs hobbies and im saying it's space

[werelosingdaylight]

Familiar Hearts

Shuntaro Chishiya x GN!Reader

REQUESTED? [Yes] • No

REQUEST: This is the Request!

WORD COUNT: 524

SUMMARY| Love was always a strong force, but is it strong enough?

Adm Note: I wrote this so fast.

The pounding in your head felt like it had dulled the moment your eyes rested on the face of your boyfriend, if he was still your boyfriend. You don’t even know it he remembers you, the thought alone caused your heart to cry out broken words that the two of you spoke into the nights air, with nothing but the moon and stars as your witness.

There was only one way to find out, ignoring the way your heart picked up; either from nerves or excitement you don’t know. “Shiya?” Your voice was quiet, almost afraid to let the word float through the air and enter his ears.

You noticed the way his body stopped walking at the nickname, his heart strings tugged at the sound of your voice, the same way it did in borderlands. You had managed to soften the strings and mold them into your home, like you were always meant to be there.

Chishiya turned to face you, his heart thudding just like yours. The lights flickered for a moment, almost as if it could sense the two souls reuniting with each other, molding perfectly together to form as one.

You felt a smile pull at your lips from the recognition in Chishiyas eyes, without hesitation you ran to him; throwing your arms around his waist and hiding your face in his neck. “I was so scared, I thought I would never see you again.” Your soul had trembled at the thought of never being complete again.

Chishiya had one arm over your shoulder, the other was softly cradling the back of your head. Oh, how the stars would cry at the united lovers, holding each other so tenderly that even gods wouldn’t have the power to tear them apart again.

You pulled away from the crook of his neck, the galaxies that decorated your eyes seemed to shine brighter when you looked at him, and inside his heart melted because he knew. ‘I love you’ your souls screamed to each other but for now you two were content with just existing in each other’s arms, relived the other was still alive.

You reached up, cupping his jaw and running your thumb over his cheekbone, pulling him to you. Your lips crashed in a kiss that put the oceans waves to shame, passionate and love for the other seeped through every crack of your skin and soaked up into your bones.

Multiple pairs of eyes watched the couple from the nurses desk, jaws fallen open at the display of a supposed stranger being in the arms of the doctor every woman had wanted at least one night with.

They didn’t know he had someone in his heart already, someone who rushed through every vein in his body and had him craving their skin against his.

Your roommate watched from the door of your hospital room with a smile, even if they didn’t remember the borderlands, they were happy the couple in front of them did. Maybe they would find a love like the two of you had, a love so strong that you could remember each other in any universe.

[hyunjinners]

✧:･ﾟRelationship with Chishiya → Shuntarō Chishiya headcanons˚₊· ꒰🩺꒱

꒰ 命 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 ꒱┊Headcannons relationship with Chishiya before Borderland + you together in Borderland.

꒰ 命 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ꒱┊Shuntarō Chishiya x Fem¡reader

꒰ 命 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 ꒱┊Fluff, cute, comfort.

꒰ 命 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ꒱┊mention of death and Borderland stuff, you know.

꒰ 命 𝐖.𝐂 ꒱┊1,4k

꒰ 命 𝐀/𝐍 ꒱┊This chapter was written almost two years ago, so maybe my writing is a little different than usual. Remembering that English is not my first language! There may be some spelling or grammatical errors, so I apologize in advance. Feedbacks are appreciated! 💙 Have a good read. ˙˚ʚ₍ ᐢ. ̫ .ᐢ ₎ɞ˚

⊹₊˚ʚ❛Masterlist❜ɞ

✶ ˖ ࣪ ਏ 𝗛𝗢𝗪 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗬 𝗠𝗘𝗧 ਓ 🌨️ ۪ ♡ ۫

𐐪♡︎₊˚ _ To be honest, the way they met was quite cliché. You have always been passionate about medicine and the first opportunity you had, you couldn't help but study this profession.

𐐪♡︎₊˚ _ You were always first in your high school class, so it was no different in college. Exemplary, punctual, polite, hardworking and, obviously, very smart. It didn't take long for you to complete your internship at a university hospital. To be clearer, because of your intelligence as a healthcare professional, she was one of the youngest students to do an internship.

𐐪♡︎₊˚ _ The first time he saw Chishiya was in the doctors' break room. You were interested because he was a pediatric cardiologist. You couldn't stop thinking about how a strong and mysterious man like him could deal with children so easily, especially in such critical states that most of his patients were in.

𐐪♡︎₊˚ _ It was difficult for you to engage in a conversation with him, as he felt more comfortable with patients than with his co-workers themselves. And it was even more surprising when he started a random topic with you when you coincidentally got coffee from the espresso machine at the same time.

𐐪♡︎₊˚ _ In his opinion, you were too dull for someone like him to get to you...but he proved the total opposite. Chishiya actually thought you were the most interesting in that place. A Brazilian exchange student who was able to stand out so brilliantly in that place. It was fascinating for him to see a woman a little younger than him be so bold and smart.

𐐪♡︎₊˚ _ It was always the same, an exchange of words when they were resting, an exchange of glances when they bumped into each other in the corridors. Until you, unexpectedly, asked for his number. This surprised both of them, but especially you. She was always so into herself, despite being smart, social issues weren't exactly her strong suit.

𐐪♡︎₊˚ _ Over time, you started going out, becoming more and more friends. Despite being opposites, you had more unusual than you thought. They were both determined in their goals and ambitions, they always help those they really care about, perhaps you more than him, but it is still a common topic.

𐐪♡︎₊˚ _ After 6 months of friendship, the familiarity and comfort between you only grew... and other feelings too. I couldn't deny it, initially neither of them had any romantic interest in each other, just admiration. But with time, you understand Chishiya and he loved the feeling of having someone who truly understood him and didn't judge him.

𐐪♡︎₊˚ _ He honestly didn't feel comfortable talking to anyone, but even though it wasn't common, you were the only one he felt safe opening up to without any fear. To him you were like an angel, always there to help him and sometimes he wondered if he was there in the same way for you.

𐐪♡︎₊˚ _ You were always very honest with your feelings so it wasn't a taboo for you. But you loved the way he treated you. You felt unique, special. And that was exactly what you were to him.

𐐪♡︎₊˚ _ You are definitely made for each other and can clearly be soulmates in living form. After a year of friendship, their feelings could no longer be hidden. They both knew they loved each other so it wasn't difficult to declare each other.

𐐪♡︎₊˚ _ It was so simple, but so special for you. They were happy to finally have a weekend off and decided to celebrate together. You usually went to your favorite restaurant, since he always let you choose, but this time they decided to just prepare a simple dinner together and then sit on their terrace to drink some wine while talking about trivial matters.

𐐪♡︎₊˚ _ His chair was very close to Chishiya's chair. Both were slightly drunk, you a little more, but the two of you weren't exactly sober. You placed your glass on the small white table that was in front of you. You adjusted your leg that was resting comfortably on Chishiya's thigh.

𐐪♡︎₊˚ _ You looked at each other for a while without saying anything. You knew that words didn't need to be described for this moment. A comfortable silence reigned between you, until it was broken with a statement from Chishiya. "You can." "What?" You asked calmly, but still confused. "You can do it, whatever you're thinking, I don't care." He said in his usual low and calm tone. "...same?" You said. "...same."

𐐪♡︎₊˚ _ You wasted no time and approached, still calmly, his lips. At first it was a slow and deep peck, which deepened into a real kiss. Still with your lips connected, you climbed onto Chishiya's lap, overcome with emotion. He didn't complain, just squeezed her waist in confirmation, wishing more than ever that I could repeat this moment over and over again.

𐐪♡︎₊˚ _ You didn't know that this kiss could trigger such an admirable and true relationship between you.

✶ ˖ ࣪ ਏ 𝗥𝗘𝗟𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗣 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗖𝗛𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗬𝗔

( 𝗶𝗻 𝗕𝗼𝗿𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗱 ) ਓ 🌨️ ۪ ♡ ۫

𐐪♡︎₊˚ _ You merely remember the day you arrived together with Chishiya in Borderland. Maybe it was like a blur, but the only thing he remembers was that you were together. Chishiya merely felt guilty for joining you in this. He thought that, Maybe if you weren't with him, you wouldn't be in this horrible place knowing you could die at any moment. Of course, both he and you are too intelligent to die suddenly, but it's still an event.

𐐪♡︎₊˚ _ You were slightly scared by how much he closed himself off after entering Borderland. In fact, he was always a little closed off to people, but never to you. Now on the beach, he didn't treat you with so much affection in front of people. He didn’t treat you badly, but he wasn’t the affectionate type like he used to be.

𐐪♡︎₊˚ _ but he didn't behave like that because he doesn't love you anymore, but rather so that you wouldn't be an easy target if someone wanted to hurt you, for example, the Niragi or the militia itself. You understood him and only helped him when he needed it.

𐐪♡︎₊˚ _ He wasn't surprised when you did so well in games, both physical and rational. You were a great athlete in high school and that was one of the many reasons he didn't care about your death.

𐐪♡︎₊˚ _ A very important topic in your relationship is trust, which means you tell each other everything. Which led to his great disappointment when he betrayed Arisu and Usagi behind his back. He knew that you hate people who use others, or take advantage of the most innocent, so he didn't tell you anything about his plan.

𐐪♡︎₊˚ _ When the mess at Praia started, you were still fighting with him, which made him worried. The only thing he knew how to do was think about you. He thought that maybe because you were in such a delicate moment emotionally, you weren't reasoning correctly.

𐐪♡︎₊˚ _ After he found you and saw that you were okay, he became calmer. So he just dragged you along the beach to find a way to get out of there and to do that they knew they needed to act rationally and not just physically.

𐐪♡︎₊˚ _ After he explained that he took the letters just to see you well and free from that horrible place, you forgave him. Your relationship was finally stable, and even though you were worried about the picture cards, you were okay being together.

𐐪♡︎₊˚ _ After the chaos on the beach and the fact that you were separated from the rest of the group, you had many existential and anxiety crises. He helped you as much as he could with this, even more so when he realized that his support meant a lot to you.

𐐪♡︎₊˚ _ No matter where you were or what phase you went through, as long as you are well enough to finally get out of there together, you will be happy.

⊹₊˚ʚ❛original by:: @hyunjinners ¡ Like × reblog!❜ɞ

[olympeline]

Please somebody spare a crumb of kindness and ask me about my scotfruk omegaverse thoughts. I have so many Feelings about the potential dynamics between these three. They are some of my favourite guys to put in situations together. So I’m reworking one of my old posts with a new a/b/o twist:

Gimme a historical human AU where Alasdair, the alpha king of Scotland, was wed to the French prince Francis Bonnefoy to strengthen their nations’ alliance against the English. Everyone assumed Francis - graceful, pretty child he was - would present omega. He might even have been a borderline case who had a “false heat” or two after he hit puberty. So the two royal families were all: “Jackpot!” and married him to Alasdair as soon as they were both of age. Then, disaster! Turns out they’d jumped the gun in the worst way. Against all odds, Francis presented beta. Meaning there could be no children born of his and Alasdair’s union. Disaster for France, much worse disaster for Scotland, opposite of disaster and cause for much laughter, celebrating, and schadenfreude in England. Many jokes made and toasts drunk to royal couple “Alas, no heir” and Francis “Barrenfoy” in the lands Anglo.

Everyone tells Alasdair to set his “useless” husband aside. Annul their marriage and try again. But Alasdair has come to truly love Francis and he refuses. Their wooing was rough at first (ba-dum-tsh!) but opposites attract and they fell for each other in the end. Just in time for all hope to die that Francis could be an omega. Alasdair wouldn’t throw Francis away, though. Fiery, fiercely loving, stubborn man Alasdair is, even Francis himself couldn’t change his mind. Though Francis’s protests are, admittedly, halfhearted as hell. He’s come to love Alasdair just as much. He doesn’t want to lose him or the new life he’s built for himself in Scotland. The guillt still gnaws away at Francis, though. All kings needs progeny as a matter of urgency. If only he hadn’t presented beta. Then everything would be all right.

Meanwhile the English, once they got over their hangovers, decided to take advantage of their neighbour’s political woes and attack the Scottish borderlands. Their forces lead by one Arthur Bloody Kirkland: beta English prince, ready to kick some tartan on his father’s orders. The English aim to seize the lowlands but, unfortunately for them, Alasdair and Francis aren’t so distracted that they’ve forgetten how to fight. It turns into a Battle of Bannockburn style Scottish victory and not only is the English army sent fleeing, but Arthur himself is captured. Though he at least manages to hide his identity and pretend to be an ordinary knight. Swapping armour with a dead comrade just before capture and letting the jubilant Scots believe they’d killed their enemy’s crown prince. The last thing Arthur wants is to be executed or used as a hostage so England is bankrupted getting him back. They’ve lost enough as is with his humiliating defeat. Arthur is taken back to Alasdair’s castle and made into a gift for Francis. Even after such a big victory, Alasdair can see his husband is still depressed and hopes having a sassenach slave to torment will cheer him up. Arthur gave Alasdair plenty of lip while being questioned and afterwards Alasdair decided a life spent on his knees (ahem) as a servant would be just what the doctor ordered for the proud, haughty Englishman.

Francis and Arthur are Francis and Arthur no matter what the universe and sparks fly right from the get-go. Francis does enjoy tormenting Arthur but Arthur gives as good as he gets and Francis…likes it? They both do, actually. Just staring across the room in a: “Grrr, I hate you so much but I want you inside me so badly you bastard fuck you!” way. More guilt for Francis because now he’s attracted to two men on top of everything else and only one of them is his spouse. Alasdair notices and is pissed as hell but then he also can’t help imagining that blonde on blonde Action and ffffuuuuck. He should just get rid of Arthur, who’s a terrible servant anyway, but ffffuuuuck. Seeing him on his knees is…ffffuuuuck. Also, much more importantly, having Arthur around to fight with has rallied Francis’s low spirits at last. So throwing their prisoner in the nearest loch is a big no-no. You played yourself, Alasdair. For Arthur’s part, he knows he should be trying to escape and not thinking so much about Auld Alliance double dickings but it’s like he’s losing his mind around them. Seriously, what is wrong with him? Why is he feeling this way for these sexy husbands he’s meant to hate and also it’s winter so why the fuck is he suddenly so hot all the time?! Scotland is meant to be cold but Arthur is stumbling around flushed and unsteady with a brain full of cotton as if he were drunk. This must be how omegas feel when their heats are close. But that’s not relevant to Arthur, who’s confident he’s 100% a beta and always has been. Which is fortunate because an omega can’t be king in England. Absolutely, totally against the law down there. So it’s a good thing that’s not what Arthur is. That he definitely isn’t one of the 0.01% of omegas who present late for Reasons no one understands yet because it’s the past and advanced medicine still involves covering people in leeches and yelling at stars. No, Arthur is just coming down with something. He definitely isn’t a late bloomer. Definitely. Definitely, definitely. Otherwise his already bad situation would be even worse! And even Arthur Bloody Kirkland isn’t that unlucky. Hahahaha haha…haha…ha

So that’s our pitch, folks! We have Alasdair: the alpha king trying to balance complex political realities with adoration for his spouse. Alongside Francis: the beta king consort torn apart by the guilt of being one of his beloved Alasdair’s Biggest Problems in a way he can’t fix. And finally Arthur: the captured beta (…) secret prince trying to find a way to escape back to his kingdom before anyone discovers his true identity. Oh the drama, oh the angst, oh the romance, oh the everything. Good God, please let me ramble on about these fictional men. I am Like This thinking about them:

[corawritesthings]

chishiya shuntaro flirting headcanons

(gn!reader, presumed to be in the borderlands.)

okay. let’s talk.

pov he's looking at you

-this man, in terms of flirting, would be one of two extremes. I will die on both of these hills.

-the first: this man being the most awkward, embarrassing flirter of life.

-picture this if you will. you two meeting at the beach (and I'd imagine in this scenario you’d eventually get to know each other well, he’s crushing on you, you’re crushing on him, that kind of thing.)

-kuina probably pushed him into making a move—because you know it’d be a cold day in hell for him to approach you himself—and thus begins the STRANGEST COURTSHIP SAGA OF YOUR LIFE.

-he’d probably attempt giving you gifts (gifts here meaning literal weapons he created) and he’d kind of just hand it to you quietly and walk off, leaving you with nothing but confusion.

-compliments would sound a little something like, “you’re pretty good at the games.”

-something distant and impersonal, because he wouldn’t feel right about complimenting specific things about you, if that makes sense? like, it just seems off to him to compliment things about your appearance or your personality. he’d prefer to speak a language he understands.

-(and, let’s not forget, most emotionally unavailable man on earth probably doesn’t want to understand his own feelings, so he’s just as off kilter about the whole thing as you are.)

-in that same vein, he’d probably compliment your intelligence a lot. (again, speaking his own language). he might commend you for your analytical skills or the way you understand things. the way your mind works is something that intrigues him regardless of what universe you’re in, so he’d certainly comment on it if he were making an active attempt to flirt (?) with you.

-he’d be that person who learns your route/routine just so he can run into you. look me in the eyes screen and tell me he wouldn’t. he’d absolutely deny it, don’t get me wrong. he will go to the grave with it. but he would.

-would accidentally insult you without realizing it at LEAST one time. (though if it were a true offense and you were genuinely hurt, I do think he’d apologize in his own on-brand chishiya way. maybe bring you a treat you really like.)

-okay, now for the second extreme, which I personally will subscribe to for eternity.

-this man.

-this MAN.

-chishiya. shuntaro.

-having the most rizz you’ve ever seen in your LIFE.

-it would catch you so off guard—you would NOT see it coming—but this man would be the smoothest motherfucker you’ve ever met.

-picture it. if you will.

-the PETNAMES. tbh I only see a specific set of petnames coming from this man? things like angel, sweetheart. or any variation of pretty. just ‘pretty,’ or ‘pretty girl’/’pretty boy.’ oh my god marry me or nicknames that only he calls you >>>

-if anyone approached you flirtatiously at a party and you were clearly uncomfortable or not interested, he’d just walk up to you and put an arm around your shoulders, asking if you wanted to go somewhere else. probably would verbally obliterate the person approaching you at the same time.

-when you would eventually ask why he did that, telling him you thought he didn’t care, he’d just shrug it off with a smirk on his face, and say something like, “i didn’t like the way they looked at you. that’s my job, isn’t it?”

-honestly are any of us ready for possessive chishiya? I am

-gift giving and quality time are his love languages, so if he’s interested, expect both of those in abundance.

-man would also not understand personal space. he’s a leaner. tell me otherwise, I dare you.

-(please tell me you know what I mean.)

-like, okay, his hands would generally stay in his pockets, but he’d always just be leaning in towards you, or appearing randomly without you realizing it and whispering in your ear to startle you. ESPECIALLY if you’re shorter than him.

-teaser.

-if you get flustered easily, he’d tease you on how your cheeks turn red or how blushy you get when he says something particularly flirty. (“it’s just the truth, y/n,” he’d say with a little hum. “you don’t want me to start lying, now, do you?”)

-if you don’t get flustered easily, he’d just see it as a challenge to up his game. you can leave that up to your imagination <3

-would probably hold your hand just to throw you off guard.

can I do actual relationship headcanons or are you guys tired of him yet?

[trashyjester]

I have always wondered how Niragi was before Borderland. Because we know he is a Game Engineer. He also looks pretty chill and normal in that last scene in the plaza with the others. Just a random guy chilling under the sun in a pretty day.

And I wonder... Was he so much feral and sadistic because he ended up in Borderlands and he thought "well, this is the end, we are all gonna die in a terrible way" and decided that he could just get a revenge from the universe for what his life was during all his childhood and teen years in his twisted way?

Would he be the same in a normal context? I am not so sure about it. He is incredibly smart, quick at thinking and he has a good job that pays him well. He is extremely lonely though, from what he said.

Sure as fuck he is super shitty in the Borderlands, because there is only despair there, but I would love to see him in his everyday life. His high school life was hell. He striked me as someone very lonely, shy, the classic smart but ignored one. And I think his childhood wasn't better. Probably his parents were shitty too. He looks neglected a lot. (BTW I'm not excusing him with this, I'm just thinking).

After his and Chishiya's last scene in the show (that was pretty much the same in the Manga) I just hope that maybe they become friends (or maybe something more, yes, I ship them a lot) because, they say it themselves, they are the same. They see themselves in each other. So surely there will be bickering and bad moments but maybe they could work well together, and have their lil twisted something.

[sugutoad]

— I AM HIS AND HE IS MINE

                            —  IN A LOVE WHICH CAN NOT CEASE

a little self-insert oc exchange with @daemontargaryennn ! This is set in a universe where Rhaenyra successfully won the Iron Throne with the Blacks winning and a crossover between Alice in Borderland and House of the Dragon. I hope you like yours! Warning tho, this has not been reread and edited, I’m winging this tbh (I’m too lazy) and it is a bit too fast paced because I had to fit a bunch of ideas into a one-shot. 

Word Count: 4805 words

Synopsis; After his sudden ‘disappearance’, Jaecrrel Martell finds himself winning a game with the Valyrian, tossing his chances of life away and fulfilling any sort of challenges thrown in his way. After surviving all the games, the now proclaimed ‘King of Hearts’ is sent back to the world of fire and blood, only to realise that the victory of thr Dance has already been given to Rhaenyra Targeyan. After entering the confinements of the Red Keep, Jaecrrel is given the truth about his husband, the Rogue Prince, and his new beloved paramour. 

‘Congratulations, Jaecrrel Martell. You have finished the games. Your destiny awaits you, King of Hearts.’

   A silent sigh escaped Jaecrrel, quickly followed by a bitter laugh. Home. He was finally going to go home to Daemon. His laugh dwindled, a sob building in his chest, forcing him to deeply breath in and out. Choking back his tears, his eyes burned red and a single tear stained his cheek. The walls around him slowly dimmed, the very fabric of reality changing before the Martell Prince — a phenomenon that, while had baffled him the first few times after he completed his challenges, had become a familiar sight.

   White walls turned black before dissolving into a sky painted azure, puffs of white islands in the acres of blue (They oddly reminded Jaecrrel of marshmallows. He made a mental note to buy some once he got home). The solid ground beneath him transformed into a soft, grass-covered expanse, gently brushing against his boots. Jaecrrel was finally back. A gentle breeze caressed his face. The young man pushed back tresses of black that had been spilling all over his forehead allowing the air to hit his face. Surveying around, Jaecrrel quickly realised that he was back on the hill where he had first laid his eyes upon a falling star. A sudden fatigue had hit Jaecrrel back then and he fell down, his body sprawled and unknown to him, slowly disappearing into thin air.  When he had woken up, he had found himself ensnared in some sort of game. 

  A shriek pierced the calm. From a distance, Jaecrrel could see his precious dragon, Krov. The bronze she- dragon headed his way, red wings flapping rhythmically and crying out for her rider. As the beast approached, Jaecrrel’s face broke out in a grin, a smile so great that it ached. His dragon, his precious dragon. Oh, how he treated her so much. She nudged him gently, then once again with a more forceful shove, toppling him to the grass. Mayhaps is was a threat telling her rider to not leave her again, but again, who knows how a dragon truly feels beside her rider? Falling into the grass, Jaecrrel took a deep breath and got up on his feet. The guilt of leaving everyone was finally gnawing his heart away. “Vaoreznuni, ñuha riña.  Nyke kivio bona kesan dōrī ao mērī” he murmured, before sealing his words with a tender kiss on her snout. 

I’m sorry, my girl. I promise I won’t ever you leave again

  Krov softly purred (or at least what Jaecrrel assumed what a dragon purring would sound like), resting her snout against Jaecrrel before pulling away, chirping happily as her rider made his way up in her saddle. Her scales felt cold underneath Jaecrrel’s hand, a feeling he both missed dearly yet despised. Strapping himself in, he settled in, shifting slightly to the side to not hurt the red membrane of the Bronze Queen. “Sōvēs, Krov,” The High Valyrian command seemed foreign on his tongue after so long. “Sōvēs.” Hearing his commands, Krov flew off in the air. 

ཐི⋆⍟⋆ཋྀ

  The wind whistled around him as he flew in the air, his eyes wandering around at the hills and mountain tops. Krov released a series of roars in the silence of the clouds (Jaecrrel would have thought that he could hear a pin drop in the eerie quiet if it weren’t for Krov’s wings flying, releasing gusts of winds). He could finally breathe properly and allow himself to relax. He was free. Adrenaline pumped and his heart rushed as the wind zoomed past him, his eyes watering slightly, but a wide smile stretched across his face. The clouds cleared from his vision as they slowly landed, allowing Jaecrrel at a glimpse of the Red Keep and the town sprawled around it. Something rattled at the back of Jaecrrel’s head. Why had Krov brought him here instead of Dragonstone where the Blacks had resided? The doubt quickly vanished when he saw black banners covering the rusted walls of the Keep, decorated with a crimson dragon bearing three heads — one for Aegon, one for Rhaenys and one for Visenya, the three conquerors. Tendrils of confusion wrapped around his heart, clenching so tightly that he could barely breathe. Has so much time truly passed? 

  Landing near the Keep, Jaecrrel slid off his dragon with much more difficulty than he had wished to and surveyed the castles. The servants were buzzing around, doing as they were told and nobles walked and spoke with dignity. It seemed the same as it always had. Yet a voice that was not his own kept whispering in his ear that something had changed for the worse. Placing a hand on Krov’s hot scales that seemed to possess a life of its own, shimmering and glinting with an ethereal glow as if the bronze scales were imbued with the very essence of sunlight itself. The bronze draconic creature let out a song of its own, roaring and chirping as if flew away. When he was all, but a speck amidst the blue canvas of the horizon, Jaecrrel turned away and gradually made his way to where the throne of swords would be — the great hall of the Red Keep. 

  He felt invisible. As a prince of a great Kingdom and heir to Dorne, flocks of people would always follow Jaecrrel. Yet strangely, everyone brushed by him, not even a simple nod! Either they mistaken him for a low born (Jaecrrel wouldn’t blame them. The Gothic Prince wasn’t dressed in his normal attire, but rather dusted rags) or he had truly been forgotten by everyone. The walls of the red keep seemed more… dull to put it. Rather than the brighter red it was meant to be, the colour was that of dried blood. Jaecrrel stomach recoiled at the sight of reddish walls. Blood. So much blood was spilled in the games. In the war. Walking towards the great hall, the guard straightened his back at the sight of him, his eyes wide open and his mouth in a little ‘o’. He looked rather ridiculous in Jaecrrel’s eyes, but at least someone had finally noticed his presence within the halls of the Keep.

“My - my prince,” The guard bowed down. Jaecrrel looked at his hands that were shaking. “We had thought you died, Your Highness. Thank the Seven for safety.” 

Waving his hand in the air, a small chuckle bubbling in his chest at the stupidity that repeatedly baffles him one way or another. “Announce my arrival.” He said. No — He commanded like a true bearer of the crown. Biting the inside of his cheek, Jaecrrel felt dizzy. How everyone would even react to his sudden arrival never really hit him until now. 

“JAECRREL MARTELL, PRINCE OF DORNE AND HEIR TO THE THRONE” 

  The guard’s voice echoed through the vast hall, ringing inside Jaecrrel’s head. The great hall was flocked with friends and enemies alike, all surrounding the Iron Throne where sat no one, but Rhaenyra Targaryen. Instead of looking around to see his children or Daemon’s smile, Jaecrrel's eyes refused to leave the Black Queen.  The Realm’s Delight was the first one to get up, her mouth wide open as if she wanted to chuckle, but she couldn’t muster a sound. Silver pin straight hair was wrapped in a tight pony, not a single strand out of place. As she stood up, quickly skipping to the man she declared her best friend as a child, her hair bounced around in a rhythmic pattern before it went still when her arms wrapped around Jaecrrel, suffocating the poor boy yet he held on as tightly, his hands clutching on the red fabric of her dress while her own ventured through the tangles of his hair. Once she had let go of him, she craned her head up to meet hazel eyes, flecks of emerald and blue dancing around in pools of brown  — her own pale violet eyes rimmed pink and brimming with tears. 

“I had thought you left me.” 

  A small sigh escaped Jaecrrel, his heart crumbling at Rhaenyra’s voice. Cocking his head to the side, he raised his fingers to flick her forehead - a mannerism he picked up as a child whenever he wanted to get someone’s attention - but stopped when the golden crown rested upon her forehead, seven gems shimmering in the the little light that escaped from the windows which adorned the upper part of the wall. 

  “I would never leave you, Rha-,” He stopped himself, reminding himself once more of her new position. “Your Grace.” Not how everyone else left her. Not like Aemma. Not like Daemon. Not like Alicent. Jaecrrel had vowed to himself in secrecy that he would never leave Rhaenyra when they were younger after the Princess had wept in his arms, hiccuping about Alicent’s marriage to her father. The Martell Prince never liked Lady Alicent much at that time, but hearing Rhaenyra mutter such words boiled his blood. Mayhaps this is what the Targaryens felt at all times - their blood boiling, red flashing and curses swarming in their heads, hoping to burn almost everything. But Jaecrrel had learned from a young age to carefully hold on to his emotions at certain moments, so he simply held on quietly to the mourning, silver haired Targaryen Princess. 

  Rhaenyra let out a laugh, a melody that made almost anyone in the Black Queen’s presence melt. “Do not call me that, I will always be Rhaenyra to you. Never forget that.” The room around almost faded, as if it never mattered or existed to the once reunited friend. 

   “Of course, Nyra.” The old nickname made both of them smile. Jaecrrel had always called her that since they were all but 8 names days old when Jaecrrel was too young and refused to muster out her whole name, claiming it was far too hard for his Dornish tongue to pronounce. While Rhaenyra had later taught him High Valyrian and the words of Old Valyria flowed beautifully on his tongue, the endearment remained.  

  Jaecrrel took off black gloves that had once concealed the scars marked on him, the dark colour jarring against his paler skin, and carefully placed a finger on Rhaenyra’s crown, the orange jewel cold underneath his touch. “You truly did it, Nyra. You became the Queen.” Without my help, Jaecrrel wanted to say, but kept his mouth quiet. He knew that no blame can be put on others. It was him who disappeared into thin air.  Rhaenyra’s smile slowly formed into a solemn pout. Pale violet eyes broke away his gaze, a distant gaze as she looked down before looking up again, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lip. 

  “At what cost? My father is dead. My lover is dead,” her voice shaked. “I killed my own brother with my own hand. I-I killed Alicent. I am why all of Aegon’s children and wife are dead! All for this throne,” Her hands dropped to her side, a bitter chuckle escaping her lips. “And I didn’t even do it myself. It was Daemon who I could have done nothing without and yet it is me who benefits?” 

  Jaecrrel wanted to utter anything to his best friend, anything at all that could soothe her soul, but at the sound of Daemon’s name, he absolutely forgot everything. “Daemon?” He croaked shamefully, his face nearing Rhaenyra. “Where is he?”

  A small sigh escaped Rhaenyra. Jaecrrel was by far one of the more emphatic people she had ever met, always coddling his friends whenever they felt down. Yet a single mention of his beloved Rogue Prince is enough for him to forget the world — almost as if Jaecrrel was a moon that never touched Daemon, his world, but rather orbited it forever with no force ever separating the two. A guilt gnawed at Rhaenyra’s heart as she had no desire in telling Jaecrrel the truth. She looked over her shoulder, anything to not show the guilt in her eyes, but Rhaenyra had never been good at hiding what her heart felt and her eyes betrayed her, lingering on Daemon Targaryen, one of the many figures surrounding them in the hall. 

  Jaecrrel’s gaze slowly followed that of Rhaenyra and he froze. While Daemon was simply standing there, a girl, who couldn’t be older than 15, stood beside him, her arm tightly wrapped around Daemon’s arm and he simply made no effort to push her away (Jaecrrel knew that his beloved hated being touched by people he does not hold close in his withered heart. It took Jaecrrel weeks to simply graze his fingers over Daemon’s hand without Prince flinching away.) Breathing almost felt impossible for a moment, emotions full of envy and disgust swarming in his lungs, slowly choking on him, cold hands wrapped around his neck and dragging him under the surface. Envy and anger were emotions that Jaecrrel always kept hidden under his sleeve, hiding them away in a pocket at the back of his heart, but the pocket was hanging on by a thread and threatening to spill out for everyone to see. He felt Rhaenyra’s hand tightening around his own yet it felt almost numb, the feeling barely existing. Sensing Daemon ripping his eyes away from Jaecrrel in shame, his mouth slightly opened as if he was struggling to find proper words to say, Jaecrrel looked at them one last time, quickly regretting it seconds after. The young girl next to him whispered something in his ear and his once tensed posture slowly let go and relaxed. A smile was plastered on that girl’s face, the small faded scar on her nose slightly twitching as if she was an innocent rabbit. 

  His lower lip quivered for a moment. He wanted to scream at Daemon till he could muster no more words from his throat, at everyone around them who let such a blasphemy continue on like this. He wanted to burn everything around. His nails dug into the skin on his palm, drops of blood blossoming. Instead, as poised as ever, Jaecrrel held his head high up in the air, refusing to be put down by someone so simple. 

  Tugging on Rhaenyra’s hand, he drew her in closer. “Can I be excused, Your Grace? I am feeling rather drowsy after such a long day.”  His lips brushed against her ear and when he looked back down at her, she nodded and looked aside, signalling her guards and maids to take the Dornish Prince to his old room. 

ཐི⋆⍟⋆ཋྀ

  Not a single item was out of place. His fingers brushed against the wooden shelf, the books bound in leather with golden letters carved in each and everyone of it, calling out for anyone nearby to open the dusted pages and flip through them near a crackling fire. The room was dim, just like how it always was with heavy drapes hiding the windows. His bed was made and the floor was sweeped. A small smile danced across his lips. They truly did care for me. Sitting on the coach, he tilted his head up and his eyes locked with Daemon — or rather a portrait of the couple draped in black. He remembered that day, Daemon had been all fussy for dressing up and holding the same position for far too long, but Jaecrrel had enjoyed every moment of it. It was back when Daemon had been his. 

  Jaecrrel had forgiven Daemon once after what Daemon would call an ‘accident’. He had been drunk. Too drunk. The Rogue Prince was drowning in sweet nectar, his body moving on its own, making its way to the Laena Velaryon’ chambers where the twins had been conceived. Though born a bastard, Jaecrrel had taken a pit upon the two kids and had begged Viserys to legitimise them (though a good man, he was a foolish king, easily willed by others). Jaecrrel had refused to look at Daemon that day. 

  Oh, how Daemon had begged and begged, his voice luring Jaecrrel in the pit of the Dragons, a poison that was so sweet to devour yet so intoxicating. Jaecrrel let him be — only under the condition that Daemon would not leave him again. The Dornish Prince truly allowed himself to believe the lies of Daemon. His sweet, sweet Daemon who would never leave him, never turn his back on him. But Daemon was a liar, his words wrapping Jaecrrel in a blanket of delusionals as he moved on to the next innocent thing.

  “It truly hurts does it not?” Jaecrrel’s head swivels at the familiar voice, the knife in his guts twisting once more leaving his body in agony at the sight of the young man in front of him. “To love, to trust someone so greatly and they just… they just turn against you.” A small chuckle escaped his lips.

  “Takeru,” Jaecrrel winced, refusing to meet the eyes of the ‘friend’ he had killed. “I-I am truly…” He found his voice trailing off. ‘Sorry’ did not seem like the right word. It did not fix anything. It did not bring Takeru back to life. What was he even meant to say? He truly did not mean to kill Takeru. It was just part of a game. A game I need to survive.

  “Sorry?” Takeru smirked, his eyes glinting as he danced around the room like a phantom in the night. “Oh, do not fret about that, my friend. I forgive you!” 

  Jaecrrel’ eyes stinged, blinking back tears. How could Takeru dare to act like that? Act as absolute nothing had happened. A small sob built up in chest, his hands fiddling with one another. “I didn’t mean to…” Jaecrrel choked out, his voice trembling, finally letting his facade down in front of Takeru. No. Takeru was dead. This truly must be the Gods punishing him. 

“Shut it, will you? I forgive you.”

  Jaecrrel blinked at Takeru, confused and broken. “What?” He uttered, a mere whisper from his lips. “But.. But I killed you? I have taken your life and you can not. You can not just forgive me like that!” 

  Warm arms enveloped Jaecrrel in.  “I forgive you..” Takeru whispered one last time. “Do not blame yourself any further.” Jaecrrel let his body fall into Takeru’s arms, tears slowly pooling and dripping down his face, his eyes pink if he had to guess. He let it out. Everything he had been holding back for all this time, he finally let it out. The game. The deaths. Daemon. He mourned it all, but mostly he mourned for himself. For all that he lost and for all he had. 

  Suddenly he felt alone. Takeru stepped back, his arms now by his side and his gaze fixed on the door as he frowned.  “That Daemon of yours is coming soon.” Takeru turned back to Jaecrrel, his head cocked, but his eyes… Oh, how it crushed Jaecrrel’s soul seeing the raw sadness in his face. 

“I fear we must depart,” Takeru muttered, taking steps to the door, his hand hovering over the knob. “No.” Was all Jaecrrel could say. 

  “No. No. No. You can not just come and just fucking leave!” Jaecrrel felt his heart racing, his body trembling as he spoke. “Please, please.  I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Jaecrrel kept muttering, almost akin to a prayer as Takeru left, his presence a mere ghost. 

  Jaecrrel allowed himself a few minutes to recollect, his body trembling in agony and pain. He wanted to scream, but he let himself fall into the silence. Licking salty tears of his bottom lip, the Prince let out a sigh, closing his eyes for a moment. 

“Your Highness? Prince Daemon is here to see you.”

 His silence was interrupted when his guard spoke and his sanity destroyed when Daemon waltzed in. Jaecrrel's heart skipped a beat — either out of pure nerves or at the sight of his beautiful face. Lilac eyes were filled with sorrow, an emotion so rarely found in The Rogue Prince, and his lips pursed, slowly nibbling on his lower lip at the sight of Jaecrrel. Jaecrrel found himself licking his own lips for a split second.

“Jaecrrel, I swear upon my own life that —“ 

  Daemon began taking steps, his hand reaching up, fingers grasping and lingering near Jaecrrel’s face before brushing it softly. Jaecrrel flinched under the touch of the man he thought loved him. “If you say that it was not what it seems, I will cut off your cock.” Jaecrrel snapped, stepping away from Daemon, animosity curdled in his voice. 

 Daemon let out a mere chuckle at his beloved remarks. It made Jaecrrel’s blood boil further. “I will be leaving if it pleases you and your whore.” He scoffed, returning Daemon’s smirk back. 

“To where?”

“Why would that be of your concern?”

  “Because I am your husband!” Daemon hissed, his hand slamming on the table beside him, shaking in anger. How quick Daemon was to anger still surprised Jaecrrel as the boy flinched back at the sound, feet’s stumbling into one another clumsily.

  “Ofcource, husband,” Jaecrrel scoffed, venom dripping with tears every letter. “I will be… anywhere, but here.” Though non-specific, both souls knew what the Dornish Prince spoke of. Dorne. That was Jaecrrel’s home, his father’s home that would welcome him with arms stretched open. Or perhaps he should visit his mother’s kingdom where her family, House Burgais, ruled in peace. Where the dark castle sprawled across mountains. Where he called home.  

“You can not.” 

“Why? Because you are my husband? Why not marry that girl of yours instead?” Jaecrrel shot back, his teeth grinding against one another. “Because I love you. Because I want you. Becuase I fucking need you. Do you truly think that I could live for a second, knowing that you are out there, in the arms of another while I die here, in agony?” Daemon whispered, only loud enough for Jaecrrel to hear. Jaeccrel's gaze fell to the floor, closing his eyes to prevent tears. Daemon, The Rogue Prince and his lies. His sweet, sweet lies that Jaeccrel wanted to believe again.

“And yet you… you go and soil my name. You go and break your marriage vows? Why?” His lower lip trembled. “Why must you go and take that simple girl as your lover, ruining everything?” Jaecrrel said, his voice a tad bit louder than before. 

  At this, Daemon stood silent. The Rogue Prince was at a loss of words, what a sight to see! (Jaecrrel would have laughed in any other situation). Jaecrrel scoffed, a faint chuckle underneath his breath. He wanted to hit something. Wouldn’t that be fun? “That is what I had thought.” Jaecrrel mocked Daemon, turning on his heel to turn away from the Lord of Flea Bottom and heading towards the door. Anywhere, but here would be better, so, so much better than this suffocating place. He heard his name once and then twice, Daemon in a pathetic mess to call for his beloved back. Yet Jaecrrel kept walking. He kept walking and walking, the eerie silence of the hall, the dim litter lights and the wood creaking underneath his boots did not bother Jaecrrel in the slightest. He had only truly felt bothered when his eyes set on Nettles.

  Brown eyes stared at him and suddenly his clothes felt too tight. They were suffocating him, the very fabric he once so loved felt like it was burning against his skin every time he moved. What.. What did Daemon see in this simple girl? She didn’t say anything and simply stood as if she didn’t just ruin his life! He tried to say something, but he gave up. Maybe, just maybe, Daemon wasn’t worth all that? If he could not truly appreciate Jaecrrel and Jaecrrel only, what had been the entire point of this? 

“I’m sorry.”

She spoke. She finally spoke and Jaecrrel winced at her raspy voice, so different from what he grew up with. And like a phantom in the night, she slowly walked off, quickening her pace once she was out of his sight, but Jaecrrel could still hear her.

ཐི⋆⍟⋆ཋྀ

It cut deep in his skin. He winced at the papercut and closed his book. Normally, the library helped him escape in a world of vampires and witches, helping him escape the harmful reality of life. Yet sadly, today had not been such a case. I’m Sorry. I’m Sorry. I’m Sorry. Her voice echoed in his head, a constant prayer he could not utter yet listened to. Sorry? Was she truly? If she had been, she would have left his Daemon by now. Perhaps some fresh air could help.

ཐི⋆⍟⋆ཋྀ

“I’m sorry.”

He hears it again, but it wasn’t her this time. Jaecrrel’s grip on the railing of the balcony tightened, as if one look at him would knock him off. “Are you truly?” Jaecrrel fiddled with the end of his sleeve as he stared back at Daemon. A little hope had sparked in Jaecrrel’s heart for a split second when he had heard the voice, but it had slowly dimmed. 

  Daemon took a step forward and Jaecrrel, unwillingly, took a step towards him too until he was all, but a few inches away from Daemon. Could Daemon hear how fast his heart was beating? Beating for him? Beating because of him? Daemon didn’t say anything. He raised his hand to Jaecrrel’s cheek, cupping it softly and kissed him. Oh Gods. Jaecrrel wanted to push away. He wanted to throw Daemon down the balcony from this height as he would watch his bones shatter and blood spill over the concrete castle floors. Instead, Jaecrrel curled his fist, a lock of Daemon’s hair wrapped in it as he held on tightly. It fit so perfectly. Everything was perfect — just like how it always was. Jaecrrel’s face felt hot as Daemon broke the kiss, resting his head on Jaecrrel’s head, allowing a single tear to fall down his face and into his beloved’s hair.

“I left her because I can — I can not imagine a life where I do not wake up to you by my side. I can not leave you for I have once and it has been hell. You know I don’t believe in the Gods at all, but even if they ever did exist, I pray to them that you would take me back. I had truly believed that you had died and in this time, I saw your light flickering in the soul of Nettles and I had simply mistaken for yours.”

Jaecrrel’s heart skipped a beat at Daemon’s words. He looked away to the side, trying to hold back tears and biting the inside of his cheeks to not smile nor jump out of happiness on Daemon. Daemon truly loved him! “You swear?” Jaecrrel pleaded. “Do you truly swear that it is I that you will love till your death?” Jaecrrel stared at Daemon, waiting and waiting for what seemed forever when it had been, but mere seconds. 

“I am yours and you are mine, in a love which can not cease. For even the Stranger can not rip me away from your arms.”

Daemon did not need to utter any more words before Jaecrrel wrapped his arms around his neck, his face buried in Daemon’s shoulder. “Leave me again and I will kill you myself.” Jaecrrel sniffed (jesting of course!). Daemon chuckled down at him, kissing his cheek once before kissing him deeply.

Jaecrrel did not care if Daemon was a liar. He will always devour Daemon’s sweet and honeyed words if it meant to spend a single minute in his arms as the man he loved. 

[myocsfanfictions]

Run at least twice as fast - [Alice in Borderland Fanfiction]

[Masterlist]

Erica left everything behind to start afresh in Japan, a country she cherished from her childhood memories in Tokyo. Faced with parental pressure to dictate her future once more, she chose to break free. Despite the challenges of adapting to a new country without family support, Erica finds herself thrust into a brutal landscape where survival depends on playing deadly games.

Next 》

Chapter 1

“Erica-sensei, can I have a red pencil? There’s none on our table.”

Erica glanced down to find a five-year-old child looking up at her with big, dark eyes and a shy smile. "Of course, Daiki," she said, walking over to the wooden supply cupboard to fetch more colors. Daiki followed her as he always did, and Erica chuckled softly when he timidly bowed his head as she handed him the pencils.

Erica had been working at an elementary school in Ebisu for four months now. As much as she disliked being alone at home, the smiling faces of the children always brought her joy. The job was pleasant, and she had no complaints about the pay. She could afford a small home in Nakano and live a simple life, just as she had always wanted. However, she never expected to find herself completely cut out from her family.

She had arrived in Japan just five months earlier, fleeing a life that felt stiflingly controlling. Japan had always been one of her favorite places in the world. When she was seven years old, she followed her family to Tokyo because her father was the Ambassador of England. She spent five years there, cherishing many beautiful and meaningful memories of Japan. She still vividly remembered how sad she felt when she had to return to her country and how much she missed Japan.

During those years, as her family moved from country to country, Erica never stopped studying Japanese. As a child, she didn't feel the pressure that began to weigh on her as a teenager. Her parents had strict plans for her: achieve perfect grades to apply to the best university for International Law. Their control over her life was tight; she couldn't freely choose her friends, and if her parents disapproved of her friends, she couldn't spend time with them. She had to study relentlessly. But if she didn't like certain people her parents favored, she was expected to befriend them.

Erica had always strived to excel so that her family would be proud of her. However, when she expressed her desire to explore her own path and determine her life's direction, her parents didn't agree. They insisted she follow their plan. She understood they acted out of love, but they never tried to see things from her perspective. Despite this, she persisted, hoping the path would eventually align with her aspirations.

She succeeded in studying at Oxford University, but as she approached graduation, she increasingly felt her life slipping out of her control. Feeling trapped, she made the decision to leave. She hadn’t heard from her parents since.

“Erica,” the voice of her colleague Kyoko made her turn, “Thank you for today.”

The girl shook her head, “Don’t worry.” One of the teachers had a health issue that morning so they had asked Erica if she could cover for her in her fee day. There was not much Erica had to do and it was useful to work a little more.

“You’ve got your nail appointment, today?” Kyoko asked and Erica looked down to her hands.

“Oh yes,” she answered with a smile, “Take everything away from me but not my nails.” That made Kyoko chuckle.

“They are very pretty,” she said, “I should take an appointment.”

“Just tell me and I’ll give you the contact.” Erica exclaimed happily.

“Of course,” Kyoko assured, bowing before saying goodbye. Erica waved as she watched her colleague disappear inside the school. Adjusting her bag on her shoulder for comfort, she then set off toward Shibuya for her appointment.

That was a really hot day. Summer in Japan was merciless, but Erica liked to walk and she would have not let the hot weather win. She began her walk towards Shibuya, passing by sleek cafes where young professionals sipped on matcha lattes and meticulously arranged flower shops displaying exquisite ikebana arrangements. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the scent of cherry blossoms, carried on a gentle breeze that whispered through the urban canyon of glass and steel.

Pedestrians flowed like a river, each person immersed in their own rhythm amidst the symphony of footsteps and distant chatter. Bicycles zipped by silently, their riders effortlessly navigating the labyrinthine streets. Erica noticed the occasional shrine nestled between modern buildings, a serene oasis amidst the urban sprawl, where visitors paused to offer prayers amid the tranquil ambiance.

She was always mesmerized by the beauty of Tokyo, it was a sight that could never bore her.

As she walked, Erica took a look at her cellphone noticing that she had still sometime before her appointment. So she decided to buy something to eat. Maybe an onigiri with tuna and mayonnaise. Her favorite. She could already taste it, and she couldn’t wait to eat.

She stopped at the side of the road, waiting for the traffic light to shine its green light at them. Shibuya was always so busy and full of people that went in many different places: the mall, cafes, work… Erica liked to looked at people wandering where they were headed and what was their lives.

People all live under the same sky, but we know so little of one another. That was what she always found herself thinking.

Then as the green light appeared, Erica heard laughters from behind her, before three boys passed by: one of them was wearing an orange shirt and he was carrying on his shoulders one of his friends, with shaggy black hair and a green shirt. While the third followed them recording what his friends were doing. Erica observed them as they made their way at the center of the road. The sight made her smile, and as they started to spin she found herself laughing. They seemed to having so much fun. She wandered what that meant as she crossed the street leaving the boys behind. She hand never had such friendship. If she thought about it she felt really sad. Her comfortable life had been a lonely one too.

Taking a breath she made her way in a near convenience store. As she leaned forward to chose what onigiri she would have eaten she heard a girl gasping with joy, “Look! Fireworks!” Erica looked at the girl and her friend with their eyes to observe what was happening outside.

Fireworks in the afternoon? Erica frowned returning her attention to the onigiris. Maybe there was some festivity she still didn’t know about, even if fireworks in broad daylight were not an amazing sight.

Then suddenly, the light turned off, but it never turned on again. But what was even more strange was the unusual silence that she heard all around her. Shibuya was never a quiet place. That silence made her shiver. And the chills only grew colder when she noticed that she was alone in the store.

What is happening? She asked herself as she looked around the empty room.

Was she dreaming? Had she fainted in some way?

Taking a deep breath to stay calm, Erica walked towards the exit of the convenience store. Her feet moved slowly and uncertainly, the silence ringing loudly in her ears. It had to be a dream. There was no other explanation.

“Where is everybody?” She asked herself as she stepped outside.

The street was deserted—no people in sight, not a single soul. Abandoned cars scattered along the road stood empty, their doors left open. It was a terrifying sight. Why was everyone gone?

“Hello!” She tried, but the echo of her voice scared her even more. That had to be a nightmare, it was not possible for that to be real. It made no sense. Erica clenched her hands to stop them from shaking. If that was a nightmare soon she would have woken up. And if it wasn’t?

“This is a nightmare,” she assured herself, “Stop freaking out, Erica,” then she frowned at herself. “Perfect,” she exclaimed, “Now I’m talking with myself.”

What could she do? How could she wake up? She tried to pinch herself, but that didn’t woke her up, it only made her yelp.

This is ridiculous! She thought to herself. There must be someone around.

As Erica ventured further into Shibuya, the once bustling streets lay eerily deserted. Neon signs that typically illuminated the area with vibrant colors now flickered dimly, casting long shadows on the pavement. The famous scramble crossing, usually teeming with pedestrians, stood empty and silent, its traffic lights changing from red to green in vain.

She passed by iconic landmarks—a towering department store with its shutters drawn, a row of fashionable boutiques with locked doors, and cafes that once overflowed with chatter now stood eerily quiet. Shop windows displayed mannequins frozen in fashionable poses, their empty gazes mirroring the desolation of the streets.

Occasionally, a gust of wind would rustle through the quietude, carrying with it the distant sound of a door creaking or a loose sign swaying. Erica's footsteps echoed softly as she walked, the only audible sound in the empty cityscape.

With each step, the sense of unease grew. She scanned every corner, hoping to catch a glimpse of movement or hear a familiar sound. The absence of life in Shibuya was unsettling, leaving her with a haunting feeling of solitude in what should have been a bustling urban center.

Erica quickened her pace, determined to find any sign of life or a clue to explain the mysterious disappearance of everyone in Shibuya.

It had been hours when she set on a sideway, trying to keep herself from freaking out. She was not waking up, and it had been hours, actual hours. The sun had set for half an hour now, she hadn’t seen anyone and she had not idea where to go or what to do.

“Am I sleeping or not?” She asked herself with trembling voice. “Am I in coma? Am I dead? What the hell is happening?” That was all so terrifying. She was trapped there and she had no idea what “there” was. She felt her eyes filling with tears; she didn’t like all that unnatural silence, she didn’t like to feel so alone, without a way out.

Suddenly though from the window behind her, the televisions on display suddenly turned on, causing her to turn around. The pale light was the only cause of illumination in that street, making everything the all more creepy. But Erica’s attention was caught with what she read on the screen.

WELCOME, PLAYERS. THE GAME WILL COMMENCE IN A MOMENT.

Erica frowned, “Players? Game?” She read it over and over, but she was not mistaken. Who were the players? What did it mean that a game was about to begin?

“What the hell is going on?” She had lost the count of how many times she had said that to herself that day.

Then the words on the screens changed once again.

THIS WAY TO THE GAME ARENA.

“This is all so fucking creepy,” she muttered looking around. Still no one. So she read the words again. They were pointing in a direction and even if she had no idea what that all was about the words were talking to Players, which meant that other people were around ant that they would be gathering in the same place.

“I don’t like this,” she said to herself knowing that there was not much else she could do. She had to follow that indication, hoping that she would have found someone to have some answers. She finally took a deep breath and she made her way in the dark alley.

**********************************************************************************************************************************************************************

If you want to be add to the taglist just let me know.

If you liked it, please leave a ♥️ and reblog!

[spooky-donut-ghost-house]

Ngl I wish the other BL games were like BL1 like I think that the other Borderlands games rely too much on comedy and stupid shit were as BL1 was more grounded and less comical

Like yeah BL1 had it's comedic moments like with the whole thing with Ned and Zed and the whole goofy annoyingness of Claptrap and Knoxx wanting to kill himself because of how much he hated being on Pandora but it wasn't an entire focus on comedy which is something the rest of the Borderlands games focused on

Sure BL1 suffered some things that could've been done better like have it be more story driven and have a better villain but in terms or atmosphere and less focus on comedy I'd say Borderlands 1 is the best game in the Borderlands franchise

Plus the future games treats the vault hunters like legendary heroes (tho BL3 barely acknowledges the vault hunters outside of gameplay) whereas in BL1 you're basically some nobody on the biggest shithole of the universe looking for some myth that may not even exist

I honestly would've prefered if BLTPS BL2 TFTBL BL3 and MTFTBL were more like BL1

Don't get me wrong I love the Borderlands franchise but I absolutely loathe how dependant the rest of the games are on comedy because most of Borderlands comedy after BL1 can be summed up as swearing, toilet humor and stupid pop culture references

Imo Borderlands suffers the same thing that post Dead Rising 1 post Saints Row 2 and post GTA 4 games suffer from and that's that they are too silly and rely too much on comedy

[sissy-the-siren]

Borderlands: Debt or Alive

"You seem to misunderstand who you're talking to," I growled. "We did this to save you. We're the good guys." "Funny," Fittzwiggins said, a cruel smile curling his lip. "I seem to remember one Handsome Jack saying much the same thing."

Things I was expecting from Borderlands: Debt or Alive--my girls, guns, and fun.

Things I got from Borderlands: Debt or Alive--my girls, guns, fun, Rhysha goodness, Fiona being Very Gay, existential crises, and class revolution.

A solid entry into the Borderlands universe, Anthony Burch doesn't disappoint, returning with the same wit and charm to his writing that made me fall in love with Borderlands 2. Fast-paced and action-packed, this isn't your standard novel and reads almost like a movie script, but it's so much fun, and, well, so MUCH FUN!!!

(If you haven't played Borderlands 2 and Tales from the Borderlands, this book might not make much sense or be enjoyable for you, just a head's up.)

After running and gunning for so long, when con artist sisters Fiona and Sasha finally get their Big Break, they find themselves wallowing in apathy, missing...what, they're not quite sure, but whatever it is, it's preventing them from enjoying their new life of luxury. It only takes Sasha's second death, Fiona's first death, Deathtrap's destruction (don't worry, he gets rebuilt!), Gaige's torture (twice), and an uprising against Eden-5's uber wealthy Elite for them to figure it out, but they get there!

I was hoping--PRAYING--for some Rhysha goodness, and Burch more than delivered; in-between bouts of dealing with her own mortality and the cold realization that nothing awaits her after death, Sasha examines her life, where she's at, what her future holds, and where Rhys slots into it all. I've compiled the following list of Rhysha moments:

Chapter 1 p. 13-14 - Taking place during the last battle with the Guardian, Sasha reflects over the events of Tales, with an emphasis on how she developed feelings for Rhys (and vice versa), largely due to how loyal he was to his friends and the lengths he'd go to protect them. p. 16 - Sasha's death scene, where Rhys is sobbing uncontrollably (described as "heartbreak" by Fiona) and Sasha thinks to herself that he's "[d]umb as a rock" but that he has a "big heart".

Chapter 2 p. 20 - Fiona wonders if she's going to be stuck in the Vault forever while Rhys is free to go and hit on her sister. p. 25 - Sasha's eyes light up with joy, something they haven't done since they were kids--and, Fiona adds in a footnote, since Rhys started flirting with her (she tries not to think about that though). p. 27 - Sasha wishes for a Vaultlander collectible from the Vault, something she learned about from Rhys. He told her about them when she "accidentally brushed my hand against Rhys's arm and he got so nervous he wouldn't stop talking about these things for twenty minutes." Fiona tells her that she can do better, to which Sasha tells her to stop being "such a mom" and that Rhys is "a nice guy".

Chapter 4 p. 39 - The sisters discuss the Vaultlander, Rhys, and whether or not Rhys has ever taken his Vaultlander figures out to play with them (he told Sasha that he hasn't because they're a "sound financial and artistic investment"; the sisters both think he has though).

Chapter 6 p. 50-51 - NOT Rhysha related, but just one--and the most significant--of the many sections that screamed "FIONA LOVES WOMEN!!!!" to me. There is no hetero explanation for the amount of detail with which Fiona observes Holloway. NONE. Chapter 9 p. 71 - Sasha says that meeting Rhys couldn't have been for nothing. Chapter 10 p. 79 - Sasha is able to get a debt cuff off of Fiona because Rhys taught her how to hack. This comes in handy several times throughout the book. Chapter 15 p. 111 - Fiona notes that Sasha ECHOchats with Rhys almost every day. Chapter 16 p. 114-116 - Half of this chapter is Sasha talking to Rhys. Both admit that they miss each other, even if they're in a weird are-we-or-aren't-we place. Sasha thinks that Rhys is a kind, handsome himbo with ambition. Rhys blushes while saying she means a lot to him and Sasha realizes that she likes him. Chapter 31 p. 220-226 - Soooo much happens in these pages! The first thing that comes up is that Sasha notices the beginning of Rhys's mustache and that he's altered his voice. The tone turns serious when Rhys asks if he can call her his girlfriend, to which Sasha apologizes and says that she's not ready for that until she knows that she can promise him with certainty the future that he deserves. Rhys understands and is willing to do whatever is necessary as long as she's happy, to which Sasha admits to herself that she can see them being more--eventually. Things take a MORE serious turn when Rhys asks her how she's doing and Sasha tells him the truth--the full truth, which isn't something she normally would do, but feels comfortable doing so with Rhys because she cares about him and actually wants to let him in to her life. Rhys helps the sisters get back on track and renews their fighting spirits. Chapter 32 p. 227 - Fiona once against questions why Sasha is crushing on Rhys when his brilliant idea to disguise the guns he sent to them is by writing "Not Guns" on the pallets. Sasha says that his heart is in the right place, to which Fiona responds, "[w]here his brain should be." p. 228 - Sasha quotes Rhys ("Mustaches are a facial accoutrement that convey trustworthiness, masculinity, and culture without ever needing to leave the cozy confines of one's upper lip."), much to Fiona's horror, and when his parroted words succeed in swaying the secbot to let the "mustache wax" (pallets of guns) through, Sasha gets an air of "see-Rhys-can-be-useful-who-looks-silly-now" about her. Chapter 34 p. 237-242 - Taking up the bulk of this chapter, Fiona and Sasha argue over Sasha and her inability to make up her mind when it comes to whether or not she wants to be in a relationship with Rhys. Fiona points out that they're not living out of a caravan anymore, not constantly on the run, and that Rhys is a "decently handsome idiot who worships the ground you walk on", going so far to admit that she--Fiona--even likes him. She encourages Sasha to make a decision one way or the other--it's only fair to the both of them. Chapter 36 p. 255 - Fiona hands Sasha a note that Rhys handwrote for her that he sent with the gun shipment. A "big, dumb smile" appears on Sasha's face. Epilogue p. 308-309 - Fiona sends a text-only ECHOcomm to Rhys. Fiona thanks Rhys for everything he's done for her, and for being good to Sasha (of course, she follows up by saying that if he's ever NOT good to her, she'll hunt him down and fill his brain with bullets). She reluctantly congratulates him on officially being Sasha's "long-distance boyfriend".

…and there you have it! RHYSHA GOODNESS IN THE YEAR 2024 THANK YOU ANTHONY BURCH!!!!!

Even without all that Rhysha goodness, Debt or Alive is a solid book and a wild ride with plenty of love, laughs, and anarchy. (Side note: The sisters' last name is Dillon? Dillon?????)

[lola-andheruniverse]

WIP Saturday - Caryl Fanfiction Rec

Dear fellow carylers, today's WIP is from the talented artist and author @alatariel-gildaen. A very interesting TWD X Borderlands crossover that deserves your attention!

Vault of the Savior is posted on 9Lives and AO3.

Summary: Legend has it that the Vault of the Savior will only open for four individuals in the universe at any one time. And Handsome Jack has tracked them all down.

Carol, Daryl, Rick, and Michonne have to navigate the treachery of Hyperion, of bandit clans, monsters, aliens, and of their own pasts to survive Pandora.

Rated: M Word count: 12.940 (04 chapters of?) Published: June 26, 2024 - WIP A lot of people dislike reading crossovers because they don't think they can keep it up or care about characters from different universes. If you are one of them, dear fellow Caryler, let me tell you that the success of a crossover depends entirely on the author knowing how to weave together two different stories, and not on your prior knowledge of them. Believe me, our author has an special talent to it (her TWD/X-Men crossover is incredible and reviewed here), so please give this WIP a try. You're in good hands. I don't play videogames and have no idea of what Borderlands is and I'm hooked! I love the different codenames, backgrounds and motivations behind our characters and I'm very intrigued by the villain's intentions on luring them all to Pandora. Can't wait to see Carol and Daryl's relationship evolve in such a different but equally harsh scenario as the ZA. Plus, this fic gives Rick and Michonne a big spotlight, so if you like Richonne, you're in for a double treat. So far our author is doing a great job writing them, which is difficult after so long writing for a single ship. Let's applaud her for that! I really hope you give this WIP a read, dear fellow carylers! And don't forget to leave a review/kudos. Feedback is love and love keeps our authors motivated to write. Share the love!

[towerartt]

Handsome Jack 8, 12 ❤️‼️

ouhhh so sorry this took me so long to answer...

8. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you despise?

I’ll tell you if you promise not to get mad at me💔

A big chunk of the fandom wrongly views him as the Capitalism Incarnated, while he is quite obviously simply a product of the psychopathy breeding system. Jack’s psychopathy is a reaction to a crime that is uniquely capitalistic. Angel’s kidnapping is a crime of greed. He is, as every Borderlands character, uniquely traumatised by the world he was born into. Borderlands shows what capitalism does to men. Jack is not much different from the psychos/bandits of Pandora. For both, the planet is a prison. Psychos choose to assimilate, and Jack chooses to destroy it. He is the universal threat; neither the poor Pandorians nor the elite are safe from him. 

But does the distinction matter? I believe so. This affects the narrative as a whole. 

We can choose to see Jack as Capitalism, and we get to kill him, and then we all go out for milkshakes. Simple and up-lifting, and very American. But to me, Borderlands is largely pessimistic. Honest people die, the leaders are either cowardly or evil, and the oppressed are often gross, stupid, and difficult to sympathise with. And we cannot kill capitalism, so we kill a scapegoat in its place. The world of Borderlands is fixed: Jack’s death does not affect the status quo; it only frees the tyrant spot for the new, yet-to-come aggressor. This is less satisfying, isn’t it.

(Possibly I am overanalysing a silly shooter game that isn't concerned with a critique of capitalism/colonialism deeper than a simple and straightforward “It is very bad.”)

And despise is a strong word. Interpret him however you want. What I truly despise is haters going "Why are you Jack's apologist?" because he activates my maternal instincts! Next question.

+ personal nitpick. The "Is he/is he not a tragic hero" debate. Girls NONE of you are using the same definition of neither hero nor tragic. I hope a huge asteroid takes out all of us.

12. What's a headcanon you have for this character?

I have soo many so I'll just drop a few here that I haven't talked about before mkay <3

Uncharacteristically (and unsurprisingly) squeamish about burnt flesh. Nisha once brought him a scorched hand after some village burning (it looked kinda funny she thought it would make him laugh how was she suppose to know he is so goddamn sensitive) and he started gagging when she dropped it on his desk. When she gets really mad at him, she dumps some burnt remains at his apartment (she loves him dearly btw)

He journals a lot. Partially because, in his opinion, it is a very Great Leader activity, but also because Angel cannot pry into what he has written down on the pages. He knows this deeply annoys her. She can see everything, and she knows everything except for her father's thoughts. Sometimes Jack makes Angel echo him and patiently wait while he finishes his entry to really rub it in. He sometimes draws her.

I hope this is comprehensible. Part of Jack’s mythos being that he only has scars on his front, kinda like Alexander the Great, because a real hero always bravely faces his enemies. But actually, his back is a mess of scars from childhood. Wouldn’t that be fucked up?? All his fanatics are like "Erm, Jack would never ever let anybody get him from behind because he is SUPER cool and smart, and he never runs away from a fight <33" I think this would add to his inferiority complex.

Thank you for this ask💕 Ouhhh I love talking about this guy

[szallejhscorner]

The Truth That Couldn’t Be Denied - Part I

Mel_Mio once more commissioned me to write the following idea:

“What if Chishiya returns to the real world after the events of CiaD and HLiF, and he does remember y/n, but y/n doesn’t remember him?”

So here’s part I, and part II will follow!

@rainsoughtflowers​ there it is :3

Soul mates, fairy tale romances, lovers for life. Things little children dream about in their glittering dresses, while wearing plastic crowns and watching Barbie movies where people always have their happy endings.

Those dreamers have yet to wake up, and it will happen eventually once they have to face the real world outside of their hope-filled bedrooms.

Chishiya Shuntarou never actually got the chance to dream such dreams. And yet he had found a person to reach through all the walls he built throughout the years, in a world full of death and cruelty. Never would he have thought to find you in the Borderlands – he never wanted to find someone at all. You had been no one to him at first, and up to this day, he couldn’t tell how you had managed to change that. The truth was, though: you had.

You had taught him that his heart was not only there to pump blood through his body, but that it could actually make him feel something. Up to this day, he refused to call it love. But whatever it was, it was there. And that he could not deny.

At night, he lay wide awake in his hospital bed, listening to Niragi’s rattling breaths. They both should be dead now, yet somehow they had managed to survive even the most severe injuries after trying to kill each other. Still, Niragi didn’t remember him for some reason. He didn’t remember anything about the Borderlands, about the games or how his whole body had been burnt in the fire of judgment.

Chishiya on the other side remembered everything, from the shooting between him, Niragi and Arisu, how he had caught the bullet that had been meant for Usagi and how you, the stubborn woman he came to like had kept talking to prevent him from succumbing to death. Chishiya remembered how you had told him hundreds of times how much you loved him, and how you had revealed memories about your childhood and whatnot. He didn’t recall most of it because the pain had prevented him from listening too closely, but your voice had kept him alive. This thought alone sounded so cheesy that Chishiya had to snort, and never would he speak it out loud to anyone.

Impatiently, he had waited for the day of his discharge, because he wanted to find you and see how much you remembered. Chishiya was sure that she shouldn’t remember anything about what happened. He had been supposed to lie there just like Niragi and believe that they all had suffered a one-minute cardiac arrest because of a comet crashing down on Shibuya; nothing more. It could be assumed that you didn’t remember him too – a thought that Chishiya didn’t approve of.

“Allowed to go home already? Lucky bastard”, Niragi laughed as Chishiya switched the hospital gowns for his normal clothes. Home. He had a certain image in his mind when thinking about home, but it wasn’t the place he lived at.

A tiny paper note was resting in one of the pockets, and Chishiya touched it with his hand. He knew exactly what stood on it, without even looking. It was your name, written by his own hands. You had a note as well, only that yours had a university on it instead of a name. While you had promised to find him in the real world, Chishiya hadn’t wanted to make it too easy for you by just giving you his full name. But if you didn’t remember him at all, you wouldn’t fulfill that promise anyway. You’d probably look at the note and throw it away since it had no meaning to you.

It was annoying, but the fact that you wouldn’t come for him meant that Chishiya had to find you instead. He could simply continue his bleak life, of course. Go back to being a medical student, in a world where money ruled even inside a hospital, and shake his head over all the pathetic human beings he observed. Although the Borderlands had taught him that there was a different option, one that came along with you. An option that didn’t make him feel so empty and hollow.

He threw one last glance at Niragi, who was still covered in bandages with several monitors tracking his vitals. That man had been burnt alive, shot several times, and yet he was still breathing somehow. Impossible to kill, the one thing devils and vermin had in common.

The other man continued his rattling laughter that soon turned into a cough. “No get-well wishes? You are a heartless fellow, eh.”

Chishiya smirked and gave him a little wave of his hand before closing the door behind him. Niragi didn’t remember, but Chishiya knew who that man really was. A murderer, a rapist, a psychopath. Deep inside, nothing of this had changed after leaving the Borderlands. It would stay hidden as long as the rules of this world forbid it to wake up, but inside it would growl and scratch to be unveiled.

Because the Borderlands revealed who a person really was. It didn’t turn someone into a murderer if that person hadn’t been ruthless before. He and Niragi would never have become friends, neither here or in the Borderlands. Chishiya didn’t care to be friendly to a man he knew didn’t even deserve to breathe this air.

Not that Chishiya deserved it, either. But just like Niragi, he was still alive and breathing and searching for the one person who made him feel something other than disdain and arrogance.

It was easy to find you. In a world so trapped by social media, almost everyone had several accounts on different sites, sharing way too much information about their real life. Pictures of themselves and their children, their birthdays, where they had gone to school, where they worked. Someone with hostile intent could easily track a person down using all this information, even if the address had never been given. But knowing where the primary school was, that they passed a giant oak tree on their way to the bus station, or that the neighbor had a dog breed with annoying poodles – all that could be used to pin the location down pretty closely. One of the main reasons why Chishiya didn’t give away anything on the internet.

He had even convinced the hospital director to leave out his surname on the hospital’s website, and avoid any images where his face could be seen.

You weren’t as naïve as to give away too much delicate information, but knowing your name and your face as well as some bits about your life that you had told him in the Borderlands, Chishiya soon knew where to find you. Of course he wouldn’t just ring on your door, assuming he’d most likely be a stranger to you. He intended to find out in a more subtle way if you remembered him or not.

The café was a tiny little shop, cozy with its brick walls, steel lamps and different-colored sofas. Chishiya had never been here before, since there wasn’t much interesting around besides a small book store and a pet shop, but it didn’t seem to be all too bad.

You had posted an image of the café not long ago, praising their drinks and cakes as the best that could be found in the whole city. The range did look quite tasty, that much Chishiya had to admit. But the cheesecakes, blueberry muffins and chocolate chip cookies only got a few seconds of attention from the blonde, since he soon found something much more interesting: you.

You were seated on one of the sofas in the back, legs crossed with a book next to you and a hot drink in front. Focusing entirely on what you were reading, Chishiya watched how your lips were slightly parted in concentration and how a lone strand of hair had fallen into your face.

It made him remember the last time he’d seen you; tears in your eyes, dirt on your face, begging for him to survive. On your wrists, the scars from the King of Hearts could still be seen, and Chishiya knew that your shoulder would be scarred from the bullet you had caught in the Witch Hunt. If he pulled up your sleeve, he’d be able to see the cut from that asshole in the Jack of Clubs, and he couldn’t help but wonder if your hands still trembled now and then from all the shocks you had endured on that electric chair. How did you think you’d acquired those wounds? All from the comet, nothing else?

“Can I help you, sir?” asked the waitress and expectantly stared at Chishiya, who ordered a piece of cheesecake and tea to blend into the crowd. He sat down on a sofa close to yours, and you lifted your head for a moment to eye the newcomer. Chishiya wouldn’t admit it, but he wanted you to recognize him. His heartbeat increased, only a little, and it was hard to keep up a neutral expression. Yet you only scanned his face for a second with no recognition at all before you continued to read your book.

The pain was different from being shot since there was no physical wound, and still it hurt more than he liked. Back in the Borderlands, when he had claimed emotions to be a weakness, this had been exactly what he’d meant. You had asked to be his strength, and now all you did was stab an imaginary dagger right through the heart you had claimed as yours.

Pathetic. I’m not better than those little children whose dreams have yet to be crushed.

The cheesecake was supposed to taste sweet, but Chishiya didn’t taste anything at all. He stared into his tea until it got cold, and even when you got up and left the café after finishing the book, he didn’t get up from his seat.

You had been reading the Metamorphosis. The exact same book Chishiya had been reading in the Borderlands, when he and you had spent some days in the abandoned caravan. It could have been a sign that there still was a connection, although it left nothing but a bitter taste. For almost an hour, you had been sitting close to him, and several times your eyes had met his. Not once did Chishiya see the spark you used to carry when looking at him.

You didn’t remember him anymore.

[jack-of-all-trades-21]

My brain came up with a very specific thing for Chishiya (which, beware, is my interpretation of his character), that kind of reminds me of something I've written before but this takes a very different route and also has a different format:

So my thought initiates from the idea that Chishiya definitely can be or become emotional, even if we might have not seen him much like it (or at all).

Since we share the same mbti I am kind off basing my things off of that, but it is also extremely humane to show bursts of emotions.

In short, he can for sure become frustrated when the moment calls for it.

When this happens, Chishiya might think that the universe is pulling his decisions and not him, like it is some sort of role he has to play because it fits the scene.

I think as an intj we are often watchers; Chishiya enjoys watching (much like we see him do during games in the show) and hopes not having to interfere with everyone's true nature. This is simply the most interesting and entertaining thing for him. So when he loses his temper or feels tears well up in his eyes he still feels like he is watching, whilst his body is driven by thing he "can't" control.

So I'm imagining a situation like the following: Chishiya is put into a spades game, and a difficult one at that. Normally he goes into games open-minded, though for this one he did not mentally prepare. Maybe it is due to his energy levels of that day or just his particular wish to do a diamonds or hearts game, but he really was not looking forward to an extreme physical challenge.

Additionally, and this is more for fun in my head, he is wearing his favorite white vest. This because he had a feeling beforehand it was not going to be an exhausting night, yet here he was proven wrong. He does not even acknowledge that this was a feeling; maybe too stubborn to admit that he was using his heart and not his head for once.

Then, it rips. His crisp hoodie is sure to not make it out this game alive. Normally he would stay pretty composed under things like these; his clothes are replaceable and it's not anything he could help anyway. Though today Chishiya feels a lot, mostly frustration and disappointment.

The sudden surprise and adrenaline that came with this game make him lose his composure. As much as he should be happy/satisfied to make it out alive, he is overwhelmed with negative feelings.

This only really happens when he is aware he can feel this way. For example when no other people from the beach joined the game. His surroundings allow his behavior; there were no other members of the beach in the game with for who he had to uphold himself.

And so the rip in his favorite jacket starts to resemble the crack in his normally perfect composure.

If we want to push it even further, we could introduce interaction with someone in the game with him.

With no clue on how they made it even out alive like him (their physique was not promising for spades games), there is someone by his side that is all too eager to aid him.

Their kindness and sociability almost trigger him more. Though he decides to play along. First, because they claim that they can fix his jacket. And second, because Chishiya just loves to see things play out.

He finds himself inside a makeshift atelier (it's just a room inside a rundown building but filled with all kinds of paintings and sculptures). The artist themself scurries across the room to a desk with coils of thread and such.

Now about Chishiya's scene partner: they didn't seem like the type that wanted to be defined or put inside a box. Though in the psychoanalyzing thoughts of Chishiya, he took a guess that they're numbing the pain and shock of the borderlands with their arts. After all, some attempt to deal with things you cant control by pretending to have control.

This way of living can actually anger Chishiya more than you'd initially think. I think this is due to a weird form of jealousy. He thinks he is not able to be as empathizing with anyone like them, let alone a stranger. However, he also believes it is in his nature to be this way (not realizing he can choose his behavior). He also knows that the kind stranger is dealing with things wrongly. Escapism in the borderlands is the dumbest coping mechanism he has seen anyone portray (probably from his realism standpoint). He could think you're wasting your time on materialistic and meaningless junk, whilst there are so many better things worthwhile (training, gathering food, finding a way out of the borderlands, resting,..). And the fact that you are a kind person makes it even harder for him. I am kind of reminded of Arisu here, also too kind for his own good if you get what I mean. Chishiya is at that moment so fed up with the idea that people like him easily can manipulate people like them.

Now how I see him out all of the things he is feeling can be through two ways. He either bottles up everything, can't sleep for a while due to all kinds of thoughts in his head he can't place, and remains like that until he can find logical reasons as to why certain things happened. Or, he snaps at the person he met, desperate to make them realize that the world they're in is real (or that it at least should be treated that way).

Chishiya assumes he's helping you out that way (like it's the thing he should be doing). Though how he then returns this favor is really up to how dirty-minded you view Chishiya.

(What better way to give someone a wakeup call of how real the world is by sharing physical intimacy?)

[astarkey]

So I was tagged forever ago by my lovelies @archeryqueen95, and @bloodychamber, that I decided to combine the tag games since they're basically the same thing. Thank you so much for tagging me guys, and I'm so sorry I'm now getting around to doing them! 🙏🏽💖 The last few months have not been so kind to me at all 😔

Last movie: Scandal (1950)

Last show: I Dream of Jeannie

Last song: Pure Morning // Placebo

Song stuck in my head: Foe // Blackmail

Favorite color: Purple and black

Currently reading: Nothing at the moment

Currently watching: Seinfeld, Wellington Paranormal, Dexter's Laboratory, King of the Hill, Garth Marenghi's Darkplace, The Mighty Boosh, The IT Crowd, Sweet Home (even though I'm having a hard time trying to go through this latest season since I stopped halfway into episode 5. Idk how to feel about it 😔), Community, Alice in Borderland and The Wayans Bros.

Next on your to watchlist: Bargain, The Bequeathed, and Shining Vale

Currently consuming: Well I was consuming some Ruffles sour cream & onion chips lol.

Currently craving: Beef lo mein and general tso's chicken from Szechuan, even though I don't think I'm going back there to eat for a while.

Sweet/spicy/savory: Sweet and savory :p

Relationship status: Still single, even though I tried to change that status last year 😣 Still trying this year.

Current obsession: I think the Yakuza series. Like I was obsessed with it's spin-off Judgement series last year, which I guess is in that same universe, and now I got into Yakuza just because I was curious and wanted to know more about the universe since I finished the Judgement games.

3 favorite foods: Mac and cheese, tacos, and cheese pizza.

Last thing you googled: avatar netflix

Dream trip: Take a road trip across the country to go to the west coast. Maybe travel to Spain, France, Italy, or Japan.

Anything I want right now: For my dad to be okay and to make it through another night at the hospital 😔

I'm tagging (no obligations!) @onyxheartbeat, @bonnielass23, @heatherannchristie, @the-highest-most-exalted-one, @eizagonzalezs, @alwaysupatnight, @lilmissuncreative, @astriferias, @georgieharrisons, @musicrunsthroughmysoul, @esteblogsiesp0rn0, @mediumrarefallingcow, @bustedandblue, @camiladnne, @userlestat, @bentcoppers, @weloveachother and anyone else who wants to do this! 💕

[eddiemunsonownsme]

For niragi

Could you do sfw and nsfw headcannons for him but if he loved the fem reader since they were both bullied and grew up together but reader is shy and oblivious

Fem shy virgin reader plz

Niragi x reader (Clean) P1

Yes, I love this idea. Though I think Imma make it a 2 part so that the minors can read the sfw part you know?

Request by: @stygianoir

Pairing: Niragi x f!reader

Summary: Niragi and the reader were both bullied and grew up together, eventually they bond and start dating. Now I'm making headcanons for you and him during this situation. There will be three parts, before, during, and after the Borderlands. It's set before the Borderlands.

Warnings: Mentions of sex under the cut

SFW

Before the Borderlands

Your relationship with Niragi started at a very young age, given the fact that you were neighbors.

However, you two didn't really acknowledge each other until you were a bit older, mainly in high school and all throughout university.

But the reasons why your relationship got stronger weren't exactly the best, you both got bullied, very often. First, they started bullying you and once Niragi tried to make them stop, they started bullying him too

The kids always found something to bully you about, whether it was Niragi's glasses, haircut, or your inability to catch sarcasm, it didn't matter, they would use it against you if they had the chance.

You'd try to shelter him from the bullying, putting yourself in front of him to take the hits and save him from it, but given your shortness and shyness not much could be done, it made the bullies laugh at your attempt to protect him, usually insulting his masculinity and so on, but he found it endearing, how you were willing to try to help him.

Eventually, you'd start bonding over this, and also your mutual love for dark humor and sometimes sharing your Intrusive thoughts

Later on, feelings of friendship became more and you started dancing around each other with something like love but not quite it, both of being pretty closed after all those years of abuse and bullying.

After a lot of time, he eventually confesses his feelings to you, which takes a lot of effort from him because he's not one to talk about emotions but he makes it work.

In your relationship there's:

Empathy and Understanding - given that both of you have been through the same pain and trauma you have a deep understanding of the possible fears of the other, this leads to you two having a very strong and supportive relationship

Shared identity - Being bullied together can create a sense of shared identity for the victims (yes, I read some articles about it to make sure that it's true), basically bringing a lot of comfort and validation

Desired sense of healing - (at least with real-world Niragi) Both of you desire to heal from the trauma and bullying, so you'll support each other to get through it

But you two also face certain challenges, such as anger issues, mostly from Niragi that you both try to work on so that he doesn't become agressive, or triggering moments or experiences (flashbaks or so) mostly for you, he tries to comfort you as much as he can.

During the Borderland

You and him were separated during most of this time, you were on the other side of the city trying to survive some of the hardest games, usually the ones including sports while he joined the Beach and became a bit more (a lot more) crazy than he was before, now that he didn't have you to keep his anger under control (not in a bad way though) he did whtever he wanted, not caring one bit if anyone got hurt.

You only meet again after Arisu's "Light Bulb" game, you had been hearing rumors about The Beach and how it was a wannabe paradise, so you and two other players who had become your friends tried to look around and see if it was a good idea to join or not. You ended up getting taken by the men of the Hatter (basically the same that happened to Arisu) in the end you convinced them so that they let you stay, sadly your friends weren't allowed. Obviously, the change of clothes is not very cool, and you start to feel exposed, more than you like, as you walk through the crowd you feel all eyes on you, which you don't like. That's until Aguni and his men come and suddenly all eyes are on them, of course, you look at them and you see this one face that seems familiar. Then Aguni starts his speech and all that, suddenly, Niragi starts calling out to the newbies to come meet him privately (like he did to Usagi) because we all know how he is. When he sees that you don't walk towards them (he hasn't recognized you yet) he gets closer to you and yanks your arm so that you get closer to him. That's when he recognizes you, and he is completely shocked, because for all that he knew you were long dead, so he's pleased to see you again, but he doesn't forget where he is or who he is, so he keeps up the act, takes your arm roughly and takes you to his room. Tells his goons to go away and finally you two are alone.

(To be continued)