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kayusenreads · 3 months ago

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Star-Crossed || Chapter iii.

In a city divided by power, loyalty, and blood, love was never meant to be an option.

When Kim [Y/N], the daughter of an influential family, steps into the gala celebrating her induction to the family legacy, she’s only looking for a distraction from her rapidly increasing anxiety. Instead, she finds Jeon Jungkook, a boy from the wrong side of the war—a world of neon lights, whispered promises, and inevitable ruin.

Their love is reckless, electric, and entirely forbidden. But in a world where family names mean everything and betrayal is paid in blood, love is the most dangerous gamble. As tensions rise and secrets unravel, they must decide: can love rewrite fate, or were they doomed from the start?

This is a re-interpretation of Romeo and Juliet, weaving a story of desire, power, and the price of challenging fate.

Pairing - Jeon Jungkook x fem!reader

Genre - 18+, smut, romance, angst

A/N - So I know it’s been over a month but life just got in the way. I just finished moving not too long ago and me and my family are still trying to get settled in. I’ve rewrote this chapter twice and I hope that this version of it is satisfactory. I’m also posting this on mobile cuz I can’t log into my Tumblr from my laptop and my desktop hasn’t been set up yet, so praying the structuring is halfway decent.

Also because I'm not well versed in trigger warnings yet, if something is triggering to you or may be potentially triggering to others, please notify me so I can fix it. I will add a full list here and a list at the beginning of each chapter.

Thank you and I hope you enjoy!

Wordcount - 2.8k

masterlist taglist

Jungkook

The bar owner whimpered, but I could barely hear him over the pounding in my skull. My knuckles ached, split open and raw, but I didn’t stop. Couldn’t. My breath became sharp and uneven, my chest rising and falling with the force of my rage.

The man slumped over, slowly sinking further onto the concrete floor. He sat wide-eyed and gasping for air, his face bloodied, making it unclear where it was coming from at this point. I grabbed him by the collar and yanked him upright, forcing him to meet my eyes.

“You wanna try that again?” I snarled, voice low and cold. Beneath it, though, rage boiled beneath my skin—rage that had nothing to do with the man in front of him.

The owner coughed up a mix of blood and saliva. "I-I told you, I don’t know what happened to your father. The police officer—"

My fist made contact with his face once more, sending him back onto the concrete with a loud groan. “I don’t give a fuck about the old man, where is the money, Ilhoon?”

Ilhoon began crying while pleading and begging for the pain and humiliation to stop. He rolled onto his stomach, the blood from his mouth began to pool underneath him. The bastard mewled, arms shaking as he tried to pick himself off the floor. He wished to speak further without the degradation, but I could barely look at him without disgust.

With my patience already razor-thin, my mood more foul than the stale stench of sweat and fear clinging to the air, I kicked him in the gut. His face slammed back onto the floor.

"Where is it?" I scowled, my voice sharp and laced with something dark. Something barely restrained.

The owner moaned, clutching his ribs where I had just driven my foot. “I-I don’t have it,” he stammered, his voice shaking.

I laughed, humorless. “Yeah? That’s funny ‘cause I saw plenty of cash running through your registers last week.” I grabbed the man by his collar again. “Don’t lie to me.”

The other guys continued to watch cautiously, lingering in the background, guarding the door and waiting. Taehyung and Jimin wouldn’t question my actions as of yet, not after the mood I’d been in all morning. They knew I had been looking for something—someone—to take it out on.

“You know the arrangement,” I whispered in a low growl. “You pay, or you deal with me.”

This was how the Montagues operated. They weren’t a charity, no matter how much the people in this neighborhood liked to pretend they were. Yeah, they protected the businesses and kept the Kims from sinking their claws in, from bleeding them dry—but loyalty had a price—a steep one. And when someone fell behind, they made an example of them.

The Montagues were not merciful, not under my leadership.

“No wonder your father is always in here…” The older man chuckled.

It wasn’t clear whether Ilhoon had grown bold and defiant or had already developed brain damage from the injuries. Maybe a sudden sense of grandeur could combat the indignity he has already faced.

“...he gets piss drunk to fill the void that used to hold the pride he had for his son.”

The room grew cold, and I could feel the jaws drop from the other two in the room. I felt my anger surge, sharp and suffocating. My fingers tighten around the bar owner's collar, my other hand pulling back, curled into a tight fist—

Then everything blurred.

My first punch was controlled, and so was the second. But by the third, fourth, fifth—I don’t even know how many—my body was moving by itself, my mind slipping into something dark and senseless. I wasn’t thinking anymore, just pounding and beating and striking, taking all my rage out on this unfortunate older man.

But I did know one thing for sure while I feverishly attacked the man: I was trying to beat something out of this man that had nothing to do with his debt or the business or even the low-blow remark he made about my father.

A firm grip latched onto my wrist mid-punch, yanking me backward. "Enough!"

I jerked my body, straightening my posture with ragged breath and hazy vision. Taehyung stood in front of me now, positioning himself between me and the bar owner, eyes sharp with warning.

I watched the beaten man slump forward, groaning in pain, his face barely recognizable beneath the open wounds and bruising. I looked down at my own hands, bloodied and trembling. I flex my fingers, trying to stop them from shaking.

The room began to feel too small, too loud, despite only the grunting cutting through the silence. The stench of blood and sweat clung to the air, thick and suffocating.

I had to get out of there fast.

Quickly, my feet carried me out of the storage room of the Poisoned Chalice, struggling to hold up my heavy and exhausted self. They didn’t stop until I had made my way out the back door and into the alleyway.

The glare of the sun was harsh on my eyes, needing time to adjust to the light after the dark of the bar. I leaned my depleted body against the wall of the building and enjoying the way the cool stones feel on my head.

It was then that I noticed my breathing started to pick up, like I had just run a marathon. I tried to steady it, but I just couldn’t. My heart raced out of my chest; my pulse was in my ears, like a thunderous roar.

My hand held onto my chest, and I thought I could stop it. I wished there was a way to reach right inside and calm my heart and stop my lungs from gasping for air.

When that didn’t work, I grabbed my face tightly, trying to mimic someone else telling me to hold it together. I closed my eyes and prayed the world would die, that I would die. But it didn’t work. Nothing worked.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Jimin demanded, both him and Taehyung following me out the door, with a voice full of concern. “You usually know when to quit.”

It was like my pridefulness took over, overruling my body’s panic attack to save face. As much as I desperately wanted to be left alone and get away, I needed to stay because being in their presence was the only thing that could stop me from hurting.

I exhale sharply, sliding my hands down my face. It was only after that action I realized my hands still covered in Ilhoon’s blood. “Nothing.”

“Bullshit.” Taehyung scoffed, pushing his way past Jimin.

Even though I was technically his boss, Taehyung had just about as much power over the group as I did. We were always close growing up and did everything together so it only made sense to run the montagues together as well. In a sense, I was the CEO and he was the COO. He takes care of the day-to-day operations and manages the team, while as a leader, I’m the final decision-maker.

I’m also the strategic planner and overall face of the group, defining us to the community we swore to protect.

And that was why my fuming cousin was in my face right now, scolding me about representation and accountability. I don’t even know what he’s saying because my thoughts are so loud I can’t hear him.

I should’ve been thinking about my father, about the attack last night that landed him in the hospital, about what the bar owner said before he got pummeled. But all I could think about was her, and the way she had looked at me before she walked away—like I was nothing. Like we were nothing.

And I know this to be the reason I lost control in there. I needed to feel like I was something, even if it meant to break a couple of bones to do it.

It ultimately was Jimin’s voice that pulled me out of my thoughts. “What happened?” His voice was lower and calmer than the other. The difference between the two men was respect; Jimin had more of it due to being my assistant and bookkeeper. “This isn’t normal.”

I found myself swallowing hard, jaw clenched tightly.

Even though I’ve been thinking about Jihyo all morning, a vision from the night before with her hit me like a flash bang.

✦✦✦

A sultry red glow bathed the short hallway leading away from the club. Behind the roped-off doorway, there were a few alcoves on both sides, small nooks with only a curtain for added privacy. I approached my favorite room, the usual spot for our rendezvous. The neon lights bled across the velvet walls and a few mirror panels, reflecting the low shimmer of the small chandelier overhead.

Along all three walls stretched a black leather couch, sleek and inviting, but I had no interest in sitting just yet. Alcohol, sweat, and the cheap perfume of the last dancer filled the air. The stuffiness didn’t pair well with the distant thrum of bass from the main floor.

The lounge owner may have built this room for leisure and indulgence, but I couldn’t keep still.

I paced around the little area I had behind this curtain, running my hands through my hair while my pulse drummed faster than the music outside. Impatience whirrs in my veins, and excitement spreads to my fingertips. Wishing for my love to make her way to reunite with me.

There was something electric about the wait every time I found myself here. The anticipation made it impossible to stand still. Every second felt stretched too thin, like the room itself was holding its breath along with me.

And when my Jihyo finally arrives, I can feel time stop around us.

The room suddenly became nothing but a shadow surrounding the two of us. An oppressive dim, but I couldn’t take my eyes off her. The soft light that barely touched her skin made it look as if she was a vision, an impossible dream that my mind had conjured up just for me. Heavy was the ambiance with the weight of her presence. The world on the other side of this curtain ceased to exist.

There was nothing but this moment. Nothing but her.

“Jungkook…” She spoke up, taking a step closer. “I’ve been expecting you…”

Her voice was like a spell, a melody spun from silk and shadow. It dripped with something sweet, something dangerous—like honey laced with venom. It had a cadence that was so rousing it lured you, making it impossible to move away.

I found my eyes tracing the outline of her body, admiring the way the light made her glow like something celestial. I couldn’t wait any longer; I wanted to touch and hold her. Pull her close and never let go.

And in my despairing hunger, I pounced on her, closing the miles of distance between us. I could hear the subtle rustle of her breath, steady and warm, but it felt as if it reached deep inside me, shaking me awake in ways I wasn’t ready for. I couldn’t think of anything but my desperate need for her.

Her scent was an intoxicating blend of jasmine and vanilla; it was all-consuming. It was like a drug that took complete control over every part of me. It clung to my skin, filled my lungs, and settled into my bones like I could never escape it, even if I wanted to.

And I didn't want to. Not for a second.

Unable to resist the urge any longer, my hands moved to the back of her head as my lips crashed into hers. Jihyo responds with the lowest of moans, her hands gripping my shoulders roughly. I took that as the go-ahead to deepen the kiss. Her lips were soft as I moved against them with immense passion and intensity, not wanting to waste a second of opportunity.

“Jungkook, please…” She softly groaned, her lips lightly brushed mine until I hungrily captured them once more.

My hands couldn’t resist wandering her body, fingertips tracing down her back and towards her waist. I left a trail of kisses down her neck and her collarbone. Jihyo's skin was soft everywhere I touched, and she smelled so deliciously sweet that I couldn't help but use my tongue to tease her skin.

She moaned my name tenderly; the compliment made me want to be even bolder.

Jihyo’s fingers raked my back, inducing a wave of desire, and I pulled her closer to my body. My hips buck into her of their own volition; my hard-on was practically begging to break free. A deep groan escaped my lips as I grind forward, my palms traveling lower, grabbing handfuls of her cheeks.

Every part of her felt like it belonged to me—no, like I belonged to her. My entire existence seemed insignificant without her in it, as if she were the center of my universe, the very air I breathed. I am hers.

“Jungkook!”

My eyes fly open when Jihyo stops me and pushes me down onto the couch. The corner of my mouth turns up into a smirk, and I can feel my eyes gleam as I look up at her.

“Ahh, I see,” I hummed, taking off my cashmere suit jacket and quickly unbuttoning my white dress shirt. “My baby wants to be in control today?”

“Please stop. I’m not your baby…”

The moment the words left her mouth, my heart tore into thousands of pieces. Jihyo stood over me, arms folded tight across her chest in an attempt to shield herself. She seemed to shrink into herself and was trying to disappear into the dim light. Her eyes refused to meet my confused gaze. When she finally spoke, her voice was softer and more hesitant.

“I can’t keep doing this, Jungkook…I-I’m seeing someone…”

“Who?” My voice boomed in comparison to hers. “Give me a name. I’ll burn down the whole city for you.”

“Listen, I LOVED the time we’ve spent together. Like you were really great…” She paused to take a deep breath and collect her thoughts. “But I can’t be with someone so…you.”

I watched her, aching to be closer to me as her eyes traced my exposed chest. It was easy to tell that she was afraid of what might happen if I reached up and touched her. And I wanted to so very much. I wanted to pull her down on me and reclaim her. I was starving with want for her—starving for her touch, for her everything.

For her to be mine again.

Without her, I was nothing. And that terrified me immensely.

“I-I don’t understand,” I nervously chuckled. “I gave you all of me, you are my everything. I love you Jihyo, please baby don’t do this.”

“The way you are so lovestruck was so endearing in the beginning, but now its starting to suffocate me. I need to be with someone more normal.”

✦✦✦

“Forget it,” I muttered, but the memories were sinking their claws into me. I tried to fight back against them dragging me down. “Jimin, go back in there and tell Mister Choi we’ll be back in two days to collect. If he breathes a word of what happened to anyone, I’ll be back alone to finish the job.”

Jimin quickly nodded and hurried back into the bar. I turned back to Taehyung and motioned towards the car parked a several feet away. We started to make our way towards it, when he spoke up to my dismay. I was hoping he wouldn’t speak another word of my outburst.

“I know you don’t give a rats ass about your dad, even if he was on the brink of death…So what did whore do to get you so rialed up?”

I choose not to answer, not to give into his taunting. He never liked the fact that I was seeing Jihyo, thought she was too distracting and not worth my time. He always thought she was using me, and I know he would have a field day filled with “I told you so's” if he knew she broke up with me and left me for a better man.

So I just don’t plan on ever telling him until I can heal my heart enough to handle his gloating.

“Whatever,” He gave up rather quickly trying to get a reaction out of me and grew serious. “Sam told me this Namjoon has been planning a gala for tomorrow night and can get us in. It would be the perfect opportunity to-”

“Lets do it.” I interrupted.

I don’t care what we’re doing, but I needed to get back into work, making up for the last few months I’ve been slacking. I needed to go back to the way I was before I met Jihyo and got my heartbroken.

I needed to go back to being normal.

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brineoffire · 11 months ago

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Uuuuuuh hi, hi howdy! I've been super possessed by the need to see more male centered fics with the poly!141 soooo here's a bit. I honestly haven't played the games, but I've been looking into the lore because I'm so hyper fixed on the 141 rn. Bare with me, I haven't posted fics here before and definitely never written army anything. Please please please lemme know if you like it even a lil and I'll type up some more.

Fic notes!

So I saw someone talking about a reader who's in it for the money and I liked that idea- tweaked it a little but the basic jist? Mc loves vidio games so much they went to school for it, can't pay, joins the military to pay it all off. I'm writing this chapter ambiguous on gender so far, but I'm writing with a trans!masc reader here because fuck. I can't find much so better make it myself.

-Edit I forgot to put the title here rip

The Right Price

You can't help but stop to think about how you needed to stop biting off more then you can chew. It's been a few months since your recruiter told you all about the joys, wonder, and honor that comes with serving. You where in the second she told you about the pay. Too many student loans, too much microwave ramen, the list went on, but fuck it yeah? You where the one that said that in the first place when you signed up for your courses. The basics, programming, coding, digital design a bit of physiology because of personal interest. You where over the top when it came to studies. Didn't bother you none when you couldn't have a social life. If you weren't busy studying you where quite literally inhaling any game you could get your hands on. But now when you had to fork over the bill money? You started singing another tune.

So here you are. On the training grounds with the rest of the folks recruited at the same time as you.Your sargent was barking out orders for you all to start your runs one by one, but some smart ass was holding up the line. You actually agreed with half the shit he barked back at the your troop leader, but damn it, you didn't want the consequences.

"That's it! You wanna run your mouth? You can all run double to catch up with Marco's mouth! Now!" He yelled white fisted. The remaining lot of your groan and grumble, starting the run together now at double time to hopefully finish before lunch call. Seven miles was what you had all gotten used to. Seven miles of uneven terrain, hurdles and dives, inclines and ramps now lengthened to fourteen.

"Oh fuck off Marco!" One of the recruit remarks, smacking said recuit behind the head before taking off on a spint. Several others join in on mocking the guy before bolting trying to get it over with. You shake your head as you catch up to him and clap him on the shoulder.

"They'll chill out later man just gotta grit and bare it more y'know?" Marco yanks was shoulder away from you, giving you a nasty glare before taking off too. You raise your brow at that, curious to what set him off before shrugging, taking the course at your normal pace with a hand full of the others. Better late then fatiged. The little spat dosn't bother you anyway. You'll all be split into your first teams in less then a week. You doubt he'd even be grouped with you anyways.

Oh how wrong you where. How very. Very. Wrong. It was actually laughable at this point, because you where either grouped together because your Sargent knew you got under Marco's skin for some reason or because fate wanted to see the drama unfold. You took that as a personal challenge either way. Snapping back snarky retorts anytime Marco decided to fuck around, until one day he had you cornered with a handful of others, in your face yelling about how "your kind" didn't belong in the military let alone the states. You let him finish his rant. Something, something, something, God damned, something, something, blight all the good christians, something, something, belong in the kitchen like a proper bitch.

Oh. Okay. There it was. You laugh in your head. No. Outloud. You flip the positions, getting uncomfortably close to the fuckers so they back off some and spout of some tibits you learned in your phycology classes about the brain being easy to manipulate. Quiet anger radiating from your low tone, keeping it quiet to force them to listen harder. You throw in some extra bs about how you could probably "turn" the lot of them given enough time. That them speaking more shit would be an agreement for him to test his theory. They back off after that, but report you all at once for "harassment". There being no evidence for anything you're transfered to one of the other split groups. Half made up of people you didn't enlist with. Mabey this crop would yeild better results yeah?

Nah. You jinxed it. You know you did. Oh well. This time it's just one guy though. And all it takes is a bit of reverse phycology to have the guy questioning his own damn identity so bad he's sent to the on duty therapist. You're transfered out this time by a different woman. Laswell. She heard out your full story of your transfers and unlike your last transfer she gave you a garentee that she'd make sure to find a good fit for you. You shrug and thank her. No matter what you had to tough it out anyways, you needed that pay check after all. Had no where else to go.

It goes sour when you head with her to a base near Wales. You where supposed to go talk to her about setting up here overseas for a while. Something about spreading out more newbies anyways. You really don't understand half of it so you just agree and you're off to training on this base. As long as you're here you're expected to keep up with basics and the routine set by the Sargents and that's fine by you, whatever to pass the time at this point. They run a drill with half the team ment to run a faux attack on half the base and the rest made to counter. You're getting prepared to counter the fake attack when alarm bells are ringing. That's definitely a little over the top. Usually they just yell over the loudspeakers and... You kinda blink a few times before you realize your group of rookies is being pressed to the armory. It's not a fucking drill at this point. This is NOT what you came here for but, oh fuck here you go! You've played too many games for sure. Mabey it's time to cut back. Because you're immediately focused. Immediately setting up the scene in your head to get you in a headspace where it's all a game. It helps you focus and damn you really need help with that right now.

There's active rounds being fired a ways away from the base as you all are suited with gear and munitions. You've trained for this but damn if you ever thought you'd ACTUALLY use any of that shit. You always imagined it was for show, like how you never use any of the fucking math they taught you anywhere.

You're moving on a sort of autopilot, moving out to a defensive manuver outside, staying under cover like you're told until your unit arrives halfway out, between the fighting and the base. It's impossible to see much past a thick smoke blanketing half the scene but you all move out, groups of three fanning out for any injuries and more importantly, any hostiles. You and your group are about to get to your second vantage point when you catch something they don't, you call out a group of several hostiles over what looks like a member of the base before realizing there's radio static.

Fuck it. Risking your life might score you some bonus merit, some extra cash somewhere along the line, you don't know. You're just trying to rationalize why the hell you bolt for the man, keeping low, keeping quiet until your almost upon them all. You get close enough to make out the British insignia on the man's arm. You've definitely seen him on the base before, and now here he is, no weapon in sight, surrounded by four hostiles. You slow your approach and aim carefully, making sure to get the kill shot on one of them, the spray of bullets catching another in the arm gives you enough time to aim for one of the other ones. You've definitely played too many vidio games but you're damn sure that's what kept you from being shot on your first unofficial day of active duty. You roll. Fucking barrel roll on the ground, with enough force to get you away from the spray of bullets from the last uninjured hostile as you stop yourself and make the shot on him. Dumb luck is what you chalk it up to as the fourth guy falls, letting you finish off the second man as he scrambles to retrieve his weapon.

"Up! Up! UP!" You yell to the man on the ground. You don't notice the look of utter confusion from the guy as you rush to help him to his feet. You've gotta get him back to base or at least the rest of the team and out of harms way. So you sprint as fast as you can as soon as the man's up, keeping to your side as you keep an eye out for anyone else hostile or otherwise. You try your radio again, but nothing you backtrack enough to find the spot you last saw your little team and find them under fire, one covering a wound on the others arm, panicking. You're quick to take over, playing out the scene in the same mind set you started out with. Mission in mind. Quest line to follow. You snap the other guy out of it enough to instruct him on how to stop the bleeding properly and grab the injured mans weapon from him, shoving it into the man's hands and directing him to cover you. Again, your oblivious to the look of pure confusion from the man and your uninjured teammate as you work to bandage up your fellow recruit.

You all make it out in one peice, the base being cleared of the small force that attempted to overtake the base. What you don't learn, and no one bothers to tell you. Is that the man you "saved", Captain John Price, has been talking with Laswell. Not so much talking with her as TO her. Your in it for money? Perfect you'd definitely agree to join the 141 with the pay difference.

"John you can't fucking do that. This kid is green. Way too fucking green! They weren't even supposed to be pulled into active duty! They should have been benched with the newer recuits, not out with their seniors!"

Price laughs and shakes his head. "No. This one's got potential and I wana see how far it'll take em." He was impressed by how some rookie was able to show enough guts to help him when the odds looked bad. He had everything under control, but damn if your actions weren't something interesting. Rolling out of line of fire and still keeping a steady aim? That's quite the task, he boasts for you. Hell, you didn't even think twice about Price's rank or authority, your focused was on recovery and living while taking out the hostiles. As much as Laswell regrets to say there's not much reason to deny Price. His eye for talent really was spot on. What could go wrong in all actuality? She trusted Price, and hasn't let her down yet.

"Fine. But I'm keeping a close eye on this set up."

Price grins as he looks down at your small folder, thanking her and flipping through the pages again. Tomorrow you'd be flying out with him to your new base. Joining the 141 as a tech specialist.

#poly 141 #captain john price #captain price #tf 141 #task force 141 #141 x reader #141 x male reader #141 x trans male reader #kate laswell #141

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itsgirlcraft · 3 months ago

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Rainbow Quest Roleswap AU - Prologue

Heh. Look at my emotionally damaging fic, boy /hj (I love that the prologue reads like an epilogue 🥰)

@its-indigos

You really liked the prev rambling of the au so- lemme know if you wanna be tagged when future chapters post- (there r four <3)

@dracl-dragon bc yes :3

I smiled, watching young Origin exploring the meadow.

I don't know how long it was since I'd restarted the time loop. The Origin hung around a silk string on my head Origin Steve crafted himself.

It was almost like I was a dad now. He now was my world. Who knows how long it'd be until I'd have to dissappear into the background and let fate take hold. I dreaded what would happen to me when it came.

I mean, I couldn't be seen by the Steves Origin would one day create. The past can't be changed, or else reality could break.

But none of that mattered at that moment. I needed to be there for Origin. I needed to teach him all I knew. All he would need to become that ancient Creator I knew.

Maybe he'll start creating before I leave his side. Maybe some Steves will see the true Creator, once and never again. Maybe the truth will be forgotten.

But the one thing I knew I could not tell Origin was of The First Curse. It has to happen. I can't tell him what will happen. Reality itself could fall apart if I screw up.

No pressure there..

...

That had been years ago. Time flies by, heh. Origin Steve was maturing fast. He was already able to create life. I had yet to tell him the complete truth. Of the Origin. Of me and him.

I was changing too. Spending so much time around such pure power transformed me. I had massive black-tipped white wings. Which meant new clothes.

I started wearing draped cloth that tied around my neck or shoulder with a decorative belt. I obviously kept every trinket and memento from my past. I'd managed to keep them intact throughout everything.

I never showed them to Origin. It was too risky to bring up the past..er..future, yet.

Nevertheless, I liked it here. It was so peaceful. I loved watching Origin practice his powers from the edge of the house.

It was a simple little thing. A treehouse. It reminded me of childhood. Except instead of imaginary magic and creatures, it was filled with real magic. The spiral staircase of crimson and warped wood ran around the thick trunk, splitting off with the branches.

In the first week I'd been here, I'd built a very simple treehouse the player way. With my own tools and resources gathered by hand. It was a great time for Origin to learn as well.

Over the years, we've renovated that same treehouse into a beautiful, whimsical, fantastical home. We'd transformed the leaves into rainbow colors that sparkled in the morning light. The branches grew out, and we added more to our home with each branch so wide we could run around without falling.

A training arena using the thick, twisting wood and sharp points as obstacles, rocks and water added in for variety. An enchanting area, built into a knot. That place always flowed with magic. A farm. A crystal-clear pond surrounded by smaller trees where fireflies floated above in evenings, blending in with the stars.

I taught him everything I knew as a player. He found his own way. When we'd spend hours underground, he'd teleport into random caves with no entrances and find diamonds. After I showed him how to make a Nether portal, he showed me his own dimensional portal.

The new dimension was empty of Steves, of course. But it was beautiful. Giant fish swam through the blue-white sky, passing by floating islands filled with mystical hybrid creatures. They all had one thing in common - the pure blue eyes. They reminded me of Origin himself.

We'd moved the portals into the house too. The Nether had its own dedicated room, filled with brewing materials and a pit of lava covered in glass in the center. The other sat at the top of the tree, surrounded by clouds. We'd decided to name the new dimension the Ascended, since the fish and islands floated.

I loved flying through the blue-hued landscape with Origin. It became a regular activity. I felt so free.

It was the lonely times that made it unbearable. Origin had truly become my world, my everything. Nothing else filled the growing emptiness from banishing myself here. It never felt like banishment when Origin was around. Every day he had something new to tell me about or discover. But it felt like torture when he was off doing his own thing. What I'd give to soften the loneliness.

I knew I had to get used to it.

He was becoming a young man. I'd not be needed one day..

...

It had been so long since then. Today was the first day he'd create a true Steve. When I'd no longer be needed.

He'd learned everything I knew. He made his own path and I knew I couldn't follow him once he's gone too far.

It was an Orange Steve. He played with them, just like I had with him. He showed them the world. Our world. Their world.

They were fascinated by everything, wanted to build, to create. I smiled, knowing Origin did it right.

It had been Origin's 18th birthday that I'd given him the Origin. The nether star-like artifact now hung around his own head.

I had changed so much from my original self. My human self. I had long, rainbow tail feathers. I had stopped wearing my bandanna, showing eyes healed from darkness. They were now glowing green, like Origin's own shimmering blue eyes. I had grown large antlers that grew tiny colorful crystals.

Origin had grown a similar set of antlers. Some crystals were growing on his, one of each color.

I knew it would be someday soon I'd not be needed.

...

It had only been a month, but we already had a small village of Steves bustling about with every color. I never used my real name around them. I called myself Creator, Father of All, whatever.

I had told Origin of the past/future long ago. That I one day would no longer be by his side and he'd make some major decisions. He'd have to lead these Steves to glory without me.

Our tree had grown massive, the bark turned a deep rainbow of colors and the leaves pastel rainbow. We hadn't made the changes, it had changed itself. The world was changing. It was flowing with magic.

And now he was ready.

I could leave his side now. Origin had become a leader. I can only hope that I taught him well. That the battle against TFC will not bring about mass destruction of all.

It was inevitable. It all was. I would leave one day. He would create The First Curse. TFC would gain sentience and bring about misery.

But where would I go? To my world? Would I forget everything and do this all over again, until the end of my own existence? Was I cursed to forever loop in a neverending call to duty? Or perhaps I would vanish in a literal way. This form would just stop existing to make way for fate. For the future. For the past me coming in generations later from now.

I fear not what will end, but what will follow.

...

It had been only a couple weeks, and Origin's crystals had fully grown. He knew what they did, and gave them to the Steves. He created the Judge in my likeness. The Steves had quickly expanded into little villages.

I had been exploring the roots of the Rainbow Tree Of Life (that's what the Steves called it, anyways) when I had a thought. Perhaps nothing would come to take me away. I had to do it myself.

So I made a secret room deep underground.

I had grown to 5 blocks by then, so it was considerably smaller than I needed at first. I had gained claws as well, so I had stopped wearing shoes altogether.

I had to expand the little room twice to make enough room to use my magic. I had realized I could probably make portals just like Origin.

I had never bothered to try, so I needed to practice. Deep within the roots, I practiced again and again to create. I had only created one being: Origin Steve. And that was with the help of the Origin.

I had to create a portal to a new dimension I'd never been to without the Origin. And without Origin Steve either. I imitated the moves of the Orange Steves, the free flowing movements awakening the Creator within.

I practiced every day. Letting the symphony of the march of time flow through me. I remembered the good times. The bad times. All that led to my eventual disappearance from the timeline.

I couldn't stay here. Not any longer. It was once my destiny to save this land. And now it is my duty to leave it.

I don't know how long I spent there until it happened. A glistening portal. The frame shimmered in a reversed rainbow, the middle black as Void Steve. An orange center glowed in the deep abyss.

I knew once I stepped through I'd never be back. I would destroy it with my exit from this world.

I returned to the house, which suddenly felt distant. Like a forgotten memory. I wandered the now long, intricately detailed halls and rooms, reminiscing on all my memories. I went into the one room I knew I built myself, with wood and stone.

A memorial to the past.

I had made paper cranes representing everyone from my past. Origin, Rainbow, Light, Dark, Time...they were all there. Except for The First Curse. He doesn't deserve to be remembered at all.

I hung the necklace from Orange Steve/Rainbow around a poorly made wooden carving of him.

I made another for Dark out of gilded blackstone. On his I placed the gold ring he gave me in his final moments.

I made a crude clock mask, placing it on a vaguely Steve-shaped quartz figure for Time.

Directly beside Time's was a full sculpture I tried to make out of leaves, dirt, netherrack, and rocks. It didn't look great, but it was my dedication to Elemental. A fake slice of pie was placed before him.

I made a pair of fake wings for the Blue Steve that became Soul Steve with my molted feathers that I dyed blue. I placed a halo atop their statue's head, made from quartz scraps.

I made so many over the years. One for every person besides the Demons and TFC. I used my own mini crystals to decorate Orange Steve's carving and many others. M, Light, Green, Yellow, the leaders, all of them.

I made Origin's last. It was that same day I'd made that portal.

I had returned with an intricate, pale blue woven silk cloak. Reminiscent of my old green hoodie, which I'd grown out of long ago. It almost sparkled in the light.

I would spend my last days by Origin's side, making sure he knows I love him. This was only a temporary goodbye, after all.

I wrote him a letter, to put in the memorial. He'd find it soon after I'd leave. I would leave a key by his bed. Him being the curious guy he is, would look for it.

I tried not to cry as I stood in the massive room, knowing I'd never see anything again. I didn't know what would happen and all I wanted was for everyone to be happy. To live a good life.

But I knew it would go wrong. The future was dark for them but it would heal. My own future was lonely in the fog of the unknown.

I will cause good and bad times. And I end and begin conflict. And I've brought the love and hate. I am the center of the universe.

And now this center needed to leave. They would fall in the dusk but rise in the dawn. Perhaps I'll be around to see it all again.

How I wish I could change it. Make them all happy. None of them deserve death. Even Void once was a hero. He brought pain, but so have I.

None of us are completely good or bad. We are all but shades of gray. Some shine brighter than others. Some darken. Others brighten over time, often brighter than those once lighter than them.

And now that I have brought the light, it is time to turn the light off and go to sleep. Perhaps we shall meet again in my dreams.

Goodbye Origin. I love you.

I stepped through the portal after slipping the key into Origin's room. Hopefully he'll understand. He knew the truth after all.

My body burned as I stepped through. My bandanna the last thing left behind as the portal collapsed with me in blue and green flames.

Goodbye everyone. You'll never know me but I love you all. I wish you'd know I did this for you. I love you more than anything.

#favremysabre #my post #rainbow quest #rq roleswap au #my aus #my writing #fanfiction #origin steve #rq origin #rq sabre #rq roleswap god!sabre #rainbow quest au #yes im gonna try to tag these fully-ish #also YEP i know the crystals being given by Origin is canon-divergent i forgot that bit when i wrote it #consider these crystals to be prototypes idk man #and no i have no clue what EXACTLY was origins first creation but orange steve is fitting cuz. rq crystal orange. yeagh. angst 👍

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stonecoldholly · 3 months ago

Text

Worldwalker: Chapter 13

Summary - After witnessing a ritual at a pagan festival in her hometown, Sam suddenly finds herself in a world where magic exists and dangers far worse than everyday crime lurk around every corner. Accepting her unfortunate situation is one challenge; trusting these otherworldly beings to help her is another. As she uncovers the truth, she often finds that it leads to more trouble than it’s worth. Sam must navigate this new world, find her way back home, and restart her life.

Warnings - fighting, arguments, a lot of cursing, threats, panic attacks, blood, near death experience, nudity.

Word Count - 13.8k

A/N: There is a lot to unpack here. Enjoy. ....hehehehe

AO3 Link Part 14

“The voices in my head keep on telling me to stay,

If I pull the trigger now, then the demons go away.

And I know my time is coming, so there ain't no time to waste,

So that is all I got for now; I don't wanna talk about it."

Voices In My Head – Falling in Reverse

Velaris, Night Court, Prythian

"The trade route from Autumn splits here," Nesta pointed to a fork in terrain just off center in the Autumn territory. "This goes towards Winter, leading to Summer, where the shipment would exchange hands. There are trading posts all along the routes, but the main joint post is about here."

Sam followed Nesta's finger as it trailed along the map, stopping near the Summer Court border. "So, Autumn's trade route begins just outside the Forest House." Sam stifled back a yawn; the lack of sleep and the long day were taking its toll on her.

Night had fallen hours ago, but the snowfall had yet to cease, continuing to gather along the House of Wind's balconies and the city of Velaris below. Sam would have spent hours standing on her balcony overlooking the snowy town if the wind hadn't bit at her skin. It was like walking into a Christmas movie with all the twinkling, colorful lights and music wafting in the air from down below. It had never felt more like the holidays than in the Night Court.

Instead, she sought refuge in the library where the warmth of the fireplaces and comfort of the limitless shelves of books beckoned her welcome.

"Near their market, yes. They have multiple routes as they have ports of their own, but considering Summer has direct access to the main ports of the Night Court and Velaris, they can get their goods into consumers' hands quicker. Autumn would have to navigate the Isles off our coast to dock at our eastern ports and then make their way across the mountain range where Hewn City is located along with the Illyrian Steepes, which raises the probability of spoiled goods and death.”

Sam studied the map of the Night Court, tapping her finger along the eastern coast while nibbling at her bottom lip, “And that’s why Vallahan couldn’t send soldiers directly to us on our eastern side...because of the Isles.”

Nesta nodded as she leaned over the map to get a better look. “Well, they were following a magical signature left behind when you came through, but our Islands protect us and provide Day Court with some protection on their eastern coast." Nesta traced a large island just off the coast of Day Court. "Day and Night have a joint army base on that island. They were likely trying to avoid it by going straight to Autumn and staying out to sea.”

“So, we have a military base here,” Sam pointed to the island they were looking at. “Another joint military base with Day here,” She pointed to another island on the western side of the map that sat between Night and Day in their combined bay. “And the Illyrian warrior's war camps strategically placed along the northern part of the Court and along the border mountains into Day.” Sam leaned back to take in the full scale of the map again. No wonder Rhys and Helion were on such good terms, guaranteed protections. “I think Cassian would have a hard on right now hearin’ us talkin’ about battle strategy and the trade routes.”

Nesta snorted, rolling her eyes. “It doesn’t take much.”

Sam smirked, pouring another glass of faerie wine for her and Nesta. "So, goin' back to the trade routes," Sam handed Nesta the glass of wine, and she took it with a slight incline of her head in thanks. "If Autumn's borders are locked down, does that affect Spring Court's routes into Summer or the ability to supply northern territories?"

"Maybe. Spring has direct access into Summer here," Nesta pointed to the border where Summer, Spring, and Autumn all connect. Never mind this entire section of Spring and Summer's combined borders. This specific trade route was placed for the center market and vendors that lived in Spring to deliver goods without going towards either coast. It also just so happens that this specific route directly leads to Tamlin's Manor."

“Tamlin’s Manor is nearly butt up against Autumn’s border, then.”

“Not nearly, it is.” Nesta pointed to where the Manor would be located. “It’s...five miles or so from the border? Maybe ten.”

“And where is the Forest House located?” Sam leaned back over the map, her eyes drinking in every detail as she tried to file the information away. For every piece of new information granted to her, another question took its place.

“About here,” Nesta slid her fingertip along the Spring and Autumn border to a cluster of forest grounds towards the east. “The Forest House is the largest High Lord residence in all the Courts, spanning miles along the border and underground, and it's heavily armed with soldiers."

“Bet Rhys took that as a challenge.” Sam’s lip curled in a smile, swirling the wine in her glass.

Nesta matched her grin, "He did; that's why Rhysand has so many."

Sam snorted and sipped wine, spreading the tingling warmth through her body. “Where’d I come through at?”

Nesta pointed to a spot just southwest of the Forest House and just north of the Spring border. "You walked seven miles the day you came through, and Lucien found you here." Nesta slid her finger just a little away from where she entered this world. “Looking at it on the map, you are very lucky that Lucien found you when and where he did. You were relatively close to the borderline of all three Courts.”

Sam watched Nesta make ‘x’ marks on essential locations on the map in blue and trace trade routes in red. "I was just outside the Forest House accordin' to Eris."

"In retrospect, going north was the best-case scenario for you. If you went east, you would have walked directly into Beron's house, and that's if you had managed to survive the guards. If you went west, you would have come across Summer's borders after a while, and though they are allies to humans, you would have been met with suspicion far worse than you would have been if you had come from Autumn. If you went south into Spring, well, no one is really sure how Tamlin has been faring since the war. His Court has nearly abandoned him, and it's said he resides in beast form."

“Beast form?” Sam asked, confused and intrigued at the same time. There was still so much she didn’t know about the world she was living in.

“All High Lords have a beast form," Nesta answered as she traced another trade route towards Winter. "I first saw Tamlin's when he broke down the door to our cabin to take Feyre. It was terrifying; all of their beast's forms are. I hope you never have to see it."

Sam stayed silent as her imagination ran wild, trying to imagine Helion's beast form and Rhysand's. All that she could come up with were creatures of nightmares, powerful and terrifying monsters taking shape in the back of her mind. She shuddered at the images, hoping what her imagination had managed to throw together was wrong in its creativity.

A comfortable silence fell over the pair as Nesta continued to mark routes along the map, and Sam watched her work. She was initially a little apprehensive about asking Nesta for help, but between her and Elain, Nesta would be the better choice. It was also convenient that Nesta had already been in the library when Sam arrived, ready to start tearing her way through maps and books in order to get the information she wanted. Nesta had immediately agreed to help, whether out of boredom or curiosity; Sam wasn't sure, but she wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth, and she was grateful.

They had been standing over maps and piles of books for hours, pouring themselves into research along with glasses of faerie wine provided by the House. The House took pity on them at some point, a tray of finger foods appearing on a small table against one of the windows in the room. They took the tray's appearance as an indication that they had missed dinner and stopped their research long enough to eat before jumping right back into their maps and tomes.

She wasn't sure what she could do with the information about the whereabouts of the trade routes, but Sam wanted to be educated about it. If she wanted to get more information from other vendors or Carys, she needed to know what she was talking about and be able to ask the right questions. Sam didn't know if this rabbit hole would lead to something, but she was following her gut and learning more about this world. Overall, it was a win/win.

Sam’s attention was drawn away from the forest in Autumn and towards the mountain ranges scattered across the Courts. Her gaze was fixed on Montesere and Vallahan, “What areas have caves?”

Nesta looked up at her with a furrow in her brow. "Why do you want to know about caves?"

Sam sighed, running her hand through her hair. “The song.” She turned to shuffle through the stack of books she had procured during her solitary research. Flipping through papers of half-scribbled notes, she came across the lyrics she had written down and showed Nesta, who took it from her hands to read it herself. “It says somethin’ about a cave by the sea. I don’t know if that’s where the child disappeared from or what.”

Nesta’s eyes roamed along the map as she reached for a different colored pen. Her hand blindly settled on a green one, and she began making small circles in areas where caves along coastlines would be located. "Well, it looks like every Court has caves of some kind, along with Montesere, Rask, and Vallahan. Nearly all the mountain ranges in the country are against a sea coast."

Sam felt her possible lead deflate before it had a chance to take hold.

“Night, Day, Winter, and the barren land of the Mountain would be your best bet. Montesere and Vallahan would be next.” Nesta replied as she pointed to each area respectively.

“Considering that the song originates from Vallahan, perhaps that's a good place to look." Sam pointed out, making a mental note to tell Azriel and Cassian when they returned.

“It wouldn't be a bad place to start," Nesta agreed before sipping her wine. "However, I don't know how you will investigate it. Not only can you not get there, but you would be in danger, not just from the fae population but from all the other creatures that reside there as well."

Sam knew she would unlikely ever make it across the sea to Vallahan. Rhys would outright deny her that, but she never once considered the other terrible things living out in the wilderness that could pose such a deadly threat to her. Sam would have to leave Vallahan up to Azriel or Cassian, someone much more experienced than she was. She could focus more on the Courts.

“What else does the song say?” Nesta inquired as she lifted the paper back up to read. “’In the mountains, the forests, or wherever she roams.' You did come through a forest and are on a mountain. Did you have either of those back in Savannah?"

Sam shook her head, “Not really in Savannah. We had forests but no mountains. Now, in the state of Georgia, we have both. The mountains are a few hours north of Savannah, though. We’re a seacoast city.”

Nesta rubbed her bottom lip with her forefinger. “So, not talking about your world, then. Then again, they didn’t know where the babe was taken, let alone a different world entirely. They could have been making a guess about the child being taken to Prythian and away from the Continent.”

"But, as you said, every Court has both mountains and forests. We can't possibly narrow it down that way."

“No, but as we know, you came through the forest in Autumn. You are now located in the mountains of Night. I would at least rule out these two Courts before going further.”

Sam stared down at Autumn on the map, which seemed to burn itself into her retinas. Everything seemed to be leading back to Autumn. "What's the chances of me being able to go to Autumn?" she whispered to Nesta as she continued to fix her gaze on the map.

"Nearly zero," Nesta replied, sitting in the chair behind her and placing the song lyrics on the table. "Their borders are locked down. Beron won't allow anyone in or out, let alone a human citizen of the Night Court, to come waltzing in."

“What if Beron didn’t know? What if there was another way in?”

“Sam…” Nesta fixed her with a stern gaze, her voice filled with warning. “Espionage is exactly what Eris was trying to get you arrested for in the first place. You would only be playing into his hand.”

“Not espionage,” Sam quickly corrected, waving her hand. “Eris.”

Nesta’s look didn’t so much as falter but it did cause Sam to bristle. “That’s an even worse idea.”

"But it could work, can't it? Think about it," Sam began, sitting in her own chair quickly and talking with her hands as she grew excited at her idea. The faerie wine made her nearly bounce in her spot, and a bright smile stretched across her mouth at the possibility of a tangible lead. "The borders have been locked down since I came here, but Azriel and Cassian were able to get through the wards because they were meetin’ Eris. Eris can escort me through the borderline without raisin’ alarm so I can check out my impact site, the forest, and maybe even Winter's coastline! We can start crossing things off the list!”

“You are putting a lot of faith into a male that has no regard for you. Do I need to remind you that you don't trust each other? What makes you believe Eris will even entertain this, let alone protect you for days or weeks on end? What you're suggesting is not a day trip; it's days in his presence, possibly weeks spent in his Court that is currently locked down. If something were to happen to you over there, none of us would be able to get to you in time. Beron would likely view it as an act of war if he hadn't been made aware beforehand, and letting Beron know anything about it is a whole other mess we don’t need to be involved in. Not only would you be putting yourself in horrible danger, Eris would also be putting himself at risk.”

“But Eris hates me enough that he wants me gone, and I believe he would do just about anything for me to leave! He's also sworn to aid me; we can use that to our advantage!" Sam reminded her, her voice getting louder the more excited she got.

“If you don’t think he has already worked out a way to have the contracts work in his favor, you are sadly mistaken.” Nesta snapped, downing her wine in one gulp. Sam could tell that Nesta was becoming more annoyed as the conversation continued, but Sam was running on a high, buzzed excitement and determination, forcing Sam to stay the course. “Say that Eris does agree, do you think Rhys, Cass, or Azrielwould allow you to accompany Eris out of the Night Court and into the heart of Autumn? I can assure you they will sooner tie you to a tree and leave you there than leave you alone with Eris.”

“I can leave the Night Court as long as it is my decision to do so," Sam said as her leg bounced under the table. "I just can’t be unwillingly removed from the Court.”

“So you would be willing to defy your High Lord, who would no doubt give you a direct order not to engage? You haven't been on the receiving end of Rhysand's High Lord's orders; you don't know what it feels like to resist it." Nesta sat back with her arms crossed as she stared Sam down. "It forces you to bow, and going against a direct order from a High Lord is not a pleasant experience."

Sam let out a harsh breath, slumping back in her chair. Just like that, her excitement was starting to dwindle, and she felt the crash in her emotions imminent, influenced by the faerie wine, and Sam was a recipe for disaster. "Jesus Christ…” This was becoming frustrating. There were so many questions in her head and possible leads to go on, but this particular one seemed the most viable. Why couldn't Nesta see that?

Nesta continued, annoyed that the dangers and reality of the situation still refused to hit Sam. “Never mind the tattoos on your back that not only tie you to this Court but to Rhysand and Feyre directly. The moment you step foot out of this Court, they would know. Cassian’s and Azriel's tattoos would flare, and they would have no choice but to answer the bargain's call. You would put everyone at risk."

“So what happens to the bargain tattoos when I leave Prythian to return home?” She couldn't help the snotty tone in her voice; Sam was fed up.

“Rhys will likely release you from the bargains," Nesta replied sharply, her eyes narrowing at Sam’s tone. "He has that ability but does not use it often. He's the most powerful High Lord in history; I'd be concerned if he couldn't undo his own magic or the magic of his Court."

Sam’s mind was in a whirlwind of different choices and options as they opened up before her. Nesta was bringing up good points, logical inconsistencies that Sam hadn’t thought through, not that she would admit it. It pissed her off, really. She liked to be more of a ‘spur of the moment’ kind of person but was forced to have a concrete plan in place instead.

“So what you’re sayin’ is that I need to convince either Cassian or Azriel to go with me if I can convince Eris.” Sam slapped her hand on the table, feeling like she finally thought of a solution.

Nesta pinched the bridge of her nose so tightly that Sam thought she was about to rip it off her face. "Sam, I know you want to help, but you need to foc-"

“If you’re gonna tell me to focus on my research and trainin’ too, I will lose my fuckin’ mind, Nes.” Sam finally snapped as she rose from her chair, her anger rising. "We have been researchin', and we may have found a lead! Wouldn't you exhaust all possibilities if it was anyone other than me? Wouldn't you explore every lead until it dried up? If you wouldn't, tell me now, but if there is even a kernel of hope that what I’m suggestin’ is true, then we have to follow it!”

"Follow what?" Cassian's voice rang from the doorway. Sam whipped around to see Cassian and Azriel striding into the room. Sam took a deep breath, trying to control her anger before explaining to them next. It would be a lot to get out, but Sam was willing to take the time to convince them if it meant getting the answer she wanted.

"Sam wants to go into Autumn Court with Eris," Nesta replied bluntly, and Sam almost wished she could smack the shit out of her for it.

“That’s not exac-” Sam held her hands up in defense as she saw Azriel suck in a breath. It was exactly what she wanted to do, but there was a better way she wanted to approach it. Nesta spat it out as if the taste of it was souring on her tongue.

"Absolutely not," Cassian responded as he approached his mate. "Not a chance."

"You're not letting me explain—" Sam tried again, moving away from her chair to point at the map. If he only looked, she could get him to see her reasoning.

“There’s nothing to explain. No.” Cassian said again as he leaned down to kiss Nesta’s head. “Do you understand how dangerous that is?”

"But it's a lead! If you would just let me explain—" Sam's voice was filled with desperation, and she could feel her heart breaking as her hopes were shot down before she was even given a fighting chance. She was not above begging; she wouldn't like it, but she wasn't above it.

"Azriel and I have already looked at the impact site; there's nothing there besides a crater."

“But you were there to intercept Eris, not to investigate the forest itself! There might be somethin’ there!” Sam nearly stomped her foot like a child in frustration. “If you would only hear me out!”

"There's nothing there, Sam! Nothing!" Cassian's voice rose, and Sam resisted the urge to shrink down and submit. Her whole body flinched as the bass in his voice deepened, and she felt a cool touch of a shadow wrap around her arm. "Eris is the last male that would ensure your safety! You shouldn’t trust him!”

Sam felt that molten lava begin to curl in her stomach as she let his loud voice wash over her. It was acid in her belly, egging her on to keep going and continue to feed it. She tried to take a deep breath, but Cassian was triggering something profound inside her that she didn't know was there. Her eyes snapped up to his, staring him down as she stood up tall before him. Anger pulsed through her so hot that her ears were ringing. “You’re not even lettin’ me fuckin’ speak. You’re not hearin’ me out!”

“I don’t need to when it comes down to Eris.” Cassian snapped back at her, his own temper rising to meet hers. His wings flared in a show of dominance, and it scratched a part of Sam's brain uncomfortably, her fight or flight response kicking into gear. "I don't need to hear a damn word when it comes to him. The answer is no.”

“It could give us some answers!” Sam exclaimed, taking a step around the table. Azriel stepped forward just behind her, watching the altercation closely as the wisps around him grew frenzied. “The trade routes, the song, the magical object, Lucien, me! It has the possibility to ans-”

“No, Sam!" Cassian turned on her, taking a step forward, and his wings rose and spread out. The urge to submit and take a step back from him was nearly overwhelming as her fear spiked, but she held her ground. Her fuzzy brain couldn’t figure out if it should run or stay and fight. "I don't give a damn if it could answer all the questions in the universe, you will not go to Autumn, and you will not go with Eris!”

“Calm down," Nesta soothed as she stood up from her chair. She stood on the other side of it, putting it between her and Cassian while exchanging glances with Azriel, a silent conversation passing between them.

“If you do not let me fuckin' speak instead of talkin' over me, I will lose my goddamn shit. Stop interruptin' me and hear me out!" Sam yelled, taking another step closer to Cassian, who also took another step forward. "Eri-"

“Fuck Eris! You will stay in the Night Court! No amount of begging, pleading, or evidence that you can come up with will change that. The answer is still NO!” Cassian roared at her, and Sam felt the final straw snap. Her mind deemed Cassian a threat that needed to be taken down. Her brain decided that she would stay, and she would fight.

“Oh, you motherfuc-” Sam took a step towards Cassian in a blind rage with full intent to start swinging on him before Azriel wrapped his arms around her body to drag her out of the library. “Get off me!” Even in her rage, she saw Nesta grab Cassian's arm as he intended to follow Sam and Azriel out of the room.

"You need to calm down," Azriel said to her as he continued to haul her out of the room and into the hallway, and Cassian and Nesta disappeared from view. She kicked her legs, trying to find leverage to escape him, as all her training went straight out the window, the knowledge slipping through her fingers like sand in the breeze. There's no reason to be this upset; breathe."

“No reason!?” Sam yelled, twisting against him and grunting when he made no move to release her. “I have a fuckin’ reason! It’s my goddamn life!”

“Stop, Sam." Azriel manhandled her into another room, dragging her inside, where she kicked the door closed with her flailing legs. "You don't have to be this worke-"

“Let me go!”

Azriel released his hold on her, letting Sam catch herself as her feet met the ground. Sam spun around, fire igniting her eyes, and made a beeline for the door. Azriel blocked her way, stepping directly in front of her. Azriel’s face was carefully blank, “You’re not leaving this room, Sam. Not until you calm down.”

"The hell I ain't!" Sam spat as she went to sidestep him, only to have Azriel meet her again. "Move."

"No," Azriel replied calmly, his hands in his pockets. "Not until you can see through that anger and remember who you are.”

“Move!”

"No,"

Sam growled at him, placing her hands on his chest in an attempt to push him back and out of her way. Azriel simply smacked her hands away as easily as swatting a fly. It only made her angrier, being denied and deflected as easily as she had been, so she tried again. And again. And again. She moved to push him away, only for Azriel to evade her as easily as before. Sam decided she would run through him

if he didn't want to move.

Their bodies became a whirlwind of tangled limbs in a flurry of motion, and Sam was sent spiraling into her memories. She couldn't even see Azriel anymore, couldn't place the details or objects in the room around her, she could barely breathe with such an intense pressure gripping her chest. All she could feel was the frozen panic and scalding rage merging into a dangerous concoction. Sam was moving on autopilot, all logic and sense of self disappearing as her instincts and desperation fought against each other in a battle for control. Her mind echoed a single sentence, frantically screaming to get out, get out, get out!

“Sam!”

Azriel’s voice sounded so far away to her that the crash of something hitting the floor and shattering didn’t even register. The black spots dancing at the edge of her vision blinded her, and her breathing came out in sharp, short pants. It was all too much, too much, too much.

The air rushed by her as she felt her body spin around, a firm pressure on her shoulders. The sensation made her feel sick, the sour taste of faerie wine coating her tongue as Sam tightly closed her eyes. She let out a harsh grunt as her back met the unforgiving wall, a strong forearm braced against her collarbones to hold her in place and the feel of a rigid body pressing against her, locking her in against the wall.

“Come back to me, Sam.” Sam kept her eyes closed even as her body continued to fight against the hold. “Come back to me.”

Azriel didn't let up, pinning her against the wall until some sliver of the Sam he knew returned. “I need you to breathe; I need you to take a deep breath, come on.” Azriel fumbled for one of her hands, keeping his eyes on her face while he squeezed their hands between their bodies to place hers on his chest. “Come back to me, Sam. Breathe.”

Automatically, Sam began to mirror Azriel's breathing: deep, steady, and slow inhales of air held for a few moments and then exhaled. Repeatedly, he overenunciated the sound of his breathing, prompting Sam’s mind to keep up or slow down while holding her in place and pressing her hand into his chest.

Sam’s bottom lip quivered, embarrassment beginning to creep into her as she kept pace with his breathing and regained some clarity. Her heart was beating a bruise against her ribs, and she shifted her weight between her two legs to ease the tingling of her skin. She felt lightheaded from the deep breathing, but it was working to clear out the intensity of her panic. Her rage was all but gone once the embarrassment had made its full appearance.

"Come back to me, Sam, come on." Azriel's voice became clear, and it took more courage than Sam felt she had to open her eyes and look into his, nearly rejecting the concern disguised in hazel. A ghost of a smile eased onto his lips as the black spots vanished from the outer edges of her vision. “There you are.”

Sam sucked in a ragged, broken breath, looking towards the ceiling as shame slammed into her next. God, she was an idiot. Oh god, what had she done? Shit, Cassian.

“Hey, hey, no.” Azriel moved his arm from her collarbones to cup her face in his hands, her hand dropping from his chest. "Look at me. Look at me, Sam, look," Begrudgingly, she lowered her eyes to his. "You're okay. You're fine, and you're safe. You’re safe.”

Sam couldn’t stop the tears from coming, even if she had wanted to. She pressed her forehead against his while his scarred hands continued to cradle her cheeks. She cried, harsh and ugly, desperate to release the emotions clawing away inside of her. Her hands came to wrap around his shoulders, her fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck as she held him to her. His shadows wrapped around them, creating a black privacy shield in the otherwise empty room.

Azriel wiped his thumbs over her tears, brushing them away as they fell. "You're safe, Sam, " he repeated, and it was as if those simple words had broken the turbulent dam inside her.

Sam let out a sob, moving her head to his shoulder to sob into the crook of his neck. She held onto him like he was her lifeline, and she was terrified to let him go. If she did, she was afraid she would lose herself in the process. Azriel only stood there with his arms around her, holding her just as tightly against him, whispering reassurances in her ear as her sobs turned to soft shudders.

She cried because she was embarrassed by her outburst, ashamed that she allowed her emotions to overtake her so thoroughly that she forgot all the training they had been teaching her. Sam felt stupid for stepping towards Cassian, someone she truly cared about, out of anger. She had been ready to fight him to prove her point using her fists. She felt childish for how she acted. She was a damn fool.

For what? Because he told her ‘no’?

Oh, what a monster you were formed to be.

Sam knew it was deeper than that, knew the reason was more than simply being told 'no. Cassian and Nesta both had told her no out of concern for her own safety, but all Sam heard was that she was incapable. Weak. It made her feel as if she was incompetent and unable to do anything worthwhile, and Sam couldn't help them find answers. That she was no help at all. Not only was she useless, but they didn’t believe in her either. Worthless. She felt ignored and pushed aside, that her thoughts and ideas didn’t matter and they weren’t worth listening to. Absolutely pathetic. She felt silenced. It had been a long time since she had felt that way, felt so insignificant.

Her life was being decided for her, and Cassian made her feel she had no control or say in the matter. That any control that she thought and believed she had left, she never had at all. Logically, Sam knew that’s not what he meant. Emotionally and selfishly, she was being told that she was wasting her time and to sit down.

Sam sniffled as her sobs eased, breathing in Azriel's deep and intoxicating natural scent of chilled mist. Gathering the strength to raise her head, she turned her attention to him, pulling away far enough to see his neutral expression. Her fingers twisted the hair at the base of his skull as they watched each other, breathing in the same air.

“Well, it looks like we're going to have more training," Azriel whispered. Given how close they were, there was no need to speak so loud. His thumbs continuously swiped away stray tears that landed on her blotchy red cheeks, his fingers cool against her hot face.

Sam hiccuped a choked, humorless laugh, dropping her head down to hide the tears still clinging to her eyelashes. “I’m so sorry.”

Azriel placed a hand on her cheek, guiding her face back up to his. "You don't have to apologize to me. Cassian deserves one, though, as does Nesta.”

Sam's attention flickered between his eyes, the realization of the scene she caused dropping like a stone in her stomach, “God, I’m such an idiot.”

Azriel swiped another tear from her cheek with his thumb. " You're not an idiot, no. I wouldn't say it was smart to challenge our Commander General, but you're not an idiot."

She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth, Azriel tracking the movement. “God, how mad do you think he is?”

"He's probably over it, honestly," Azriel replied, dropping his hands from her cheeks to place them on her waist. He was keeping her pinned against the wall, forcing her to stay upright instead of curling in on herself like she wanted to do. “He’s not one to hold a lapse of judgment against someone he cares about. You do know he was only trying to protect you, right?”

Sam nodded, unwinding her arms around his shoulders to lean against the wall. "I know. I just…" Sam studied the texture of the ceiling above them instead of facing him. “I don’t usually have a problem with people yellin’, let alone yellin’ at me. It was just somethin' about his voice that just...I dunno; it didn't sit right. He wouldn't let me speak; I just wanted to explain my side.”

“Do you think it subconsciously stirred up a memory?" Azriel asked her gently, his thumbs absentmindedly rubbing small circles on her sides. "It was only last night we saw your memories – it’s still fresh. You didn't get much sleep either, and you were drinking some wine with Nesta; it’s in your scent. I also don’t want to be the male who blames anything on a female's cycle, but...your hormones are depleted. I can smell them. All that mixed together...”

Sam’s face burned, “I mean, yeah…but it sounds like a bunch of excuses.”

“They aren't excuses, and there's no need to be embarrassed,” He reassured her, and Sam decided to pick at the scales on his leathers. "I can promise you the last thing Cassian meant to do was trigger a memory, a bad one at that. Eris triggers more than enough memories for us, so it was fighting fire with fire. You and Cassian both were in the wrong.”

“I know. I understand, in hindsight, why he’s against my idea.” Sam replied, flicking a scale that wouldn’t move on his armor. “But I still would’ve liked to explain why.”

“I know, but it is dangerous," Azriel began, watching her face as he spoke to see if there were any signs of distress or retort. "Eris cannot be trusted, and while your idea may not sound half bad, the thought of Eris taking you into his Court is unfathomable. I would rather crawl upon broken glass across the Courts than even entertain the thought of you in Eris's hands; I believe Cassian would also."

“It would be worth a second look, Azriel," Sam mumbled, finally looking back at him. "Or at least worth a conversation with Eris in a neutral spot. The rumor is of another magical object being found in Autumn; not only that, but the trade routes are being impacted, and Lucien is missing."

“Lucien last told you that he would be gone for a while. It's not unlike him to extend a visit if it's beneficial. He was in Spring, yes? He could have made some headway with Tamlin." Azriel answered her, trying to soothe her worries. Azriel may have some valid points, but Sam was still not convinced. She was worried about Lucien.

“I don’t know…” Sam nibbled on her bottom lip, releasing it from her teeth. Azriel could be right; it could be all in her head.

Azriel tried not to sigh out loud. "I will speak with my contacts in Spring." He didn't enjoy using his resources to keep tabs on Lucien, of all males. "I'll inquire over his whereabouts and well-being."

"Okay…" Sam mumbled again, hoping it would ease the anxiety in her gut. "Thank you, Az."

He only nodded to her in return. A few of his shadows disappeared from the black wall they created around them. Sam watched the shadows begin to separate, dispersing to allow more light to seep into their personal bubble. A few stray shadows ran along the edges of her shoulders and the curve of her head, intertwining themselves between the purplish-red strands that escaped her hair tie.

“Do you think Cassian would be open to speakin’ to me now?”

Azriel hesitated, “I’d give him until tomorrow morning.”

“Oh.”

He shook his head and stepped back from her, effectively unpinning her from the wall and dropping his hands from her waist. "Not because he's angry at you, no. You can't hear it, but he's currently otherwise...indisposed with his mate.”

Sam blinked before she stood up straighter, sniffling before her nose began to run. “Oh, they’re havin’ sex. Got it.”

"I'm sure Nesta will be more than happy to thank you for it," Azriel replied smoothly, opening the door to the hallway for her.

Sam gave him a half smile as they filed out of the room and made their way towards her bedroom. Sam still felt regretful and awkward; Cassian had been nothing but forthcoming with her. He had never given her a reason to be angry or upset with him, but she had just given him a reason to trust her a little less. Cass had gone out of his way to protect her, said he would do so, gave her information he felt she should know, took her down to the market, entertained her idea of wrestling, and shared enjoyment in her otherworldly hobbies. What did she do in return? Step toward him out of anger and was ready to fight him.

'Obviously, you're important to him.'

‘I’ve only been here for nearly two months.’

‘And that’s not enough time to become important to someone?’

Sam glanced up at Azriel as he opened the door to her bedroom for her. Cassian had even shared his own opinion on her and Azriel's relationship, giving insight into who Azriel was and how he was with her. Cassian wasn’t wrong; she was important to Azriel. He surely was to her. She considered him her best friend here, someone she shared her fears with, her memories, and her jokes. He was always there to listen, talk, and comfort her when she was upset – just like he calmed her down just now. He was training her specifically in ways that would have helped her in the past, allowing her to heal the cracks in her foundation that long needed to be sealed. Like Cassian said, he was risking his life for her by searching for information. Something she hadn't been fully aware of.

Cassian had given her more information than she had realized as she briefly analyzed her time here and the bonds she had created with everyone. Her bonds with Lucien, Cassian, and Azriel were the strongest, all for different reasons, changing how she saw them and the world she was living in. They were changing her perception of how she viewed life as a whole and the importance of friendships and bonds between each other. She was important to Cassian, and that's why he argued with her. He was important to her as well.

God, she could have messed it all up tonight.

Azriel stepped inside after her, disappearing into her bathroom while she stood in the middle of the room. The fireplace roared to life to chase out the chill. The sound of the bathtub running joined the crackling logs, and the scent of rose and lavender rolled out from the steaming air of the bathroom as Azriel reappeared.

“The bath is running; I'm sure you're exhausted, " he told her as he opened her wardrobe to pull out some clothes. "I hate to inform you, but Cassian will not take it easy on you tomorrow morning, apology or not."

Sam sighed as she stepped out of her shoes, ignoring the fact that Azriel seemed overly familiar with her drawers and closets. “Yeah, I kinda expected him to get his lick back. It’s what I deserve.” Sam would prove herself tomorrow; she was going to beg for his forgiveness, and she wouldn't stop until she felt she had a fraction of it.

Azriel said nothing as he gathered and took her clothes into the bathroom while Sam loosened her dress's backstrings. She held the material to her chest, pressing it against her as she waited for Azriel to reappear.

When he did, he stopped a few feet from her, mentally noting how she looked. Exhausted, deflated, and vulnerable. “Get some rest. If you need me, call for me.”

“How would I do that?”

Azriel looked at her, implying that she already knew how, and Sam didn't need to look around the room to notice the few shadows straying toward the baseboards. "As I've said, call for me."

Sam watched as he made his way towards the bedroom door. “So you are stalking me.” She said, half hoping Cassian had been wrong.

Azriel didn’t even have the decency to look ashamed as he answered, “I am.”

Knowing something and hearing it confirmed it caused her heart to skip a beat. Even in her exhausted, emotionally spent state, his confirmation that he was and had been watching her sent a thrill ricocheting through her body. Azriel had no problem admitting it, and maybe that's what caused her throat to dry up: he was being so straightforward with her as he stood across the room, watching.

“You don’t have to stalk me, Az.” Sam scoffed, pushing her hair back behind her shoulder. The rug beneath her feet suddenly seemed so interesting to her as her fingers twisted the fabric of her dress. Was there always a blue threading there?

“I want to; I enjoy watching you, and you enjoy knowing that I do," Azriel said to her in a matter-of-fact tone. Her cheeks turned scarlet, nearly the same shade as her hair.

Sam stuttered as she fought for a response, getting tongue-tied multiple times before she forced out a coherent sentence. “I dunno what you mean.”

He only gave her a sly grin before leaving the room, and Sam let go of a breath she didn't realize she was holding. She dropped her dress to the ground and stepped out, resisting the urge to cover her body up as she eyed the shadows moving along the floor. Could they see her? Could they give Azriel images? Or could they just hear? What has Azriel seen?

Thank God there were no such thing as surveillance cameras in Prythian. Azriel would have a field day with that kind of technology. But an argument could be made that his shadows were exactly that.

-x-

She didn't have a problem apologizing when she knew she was wrong. Sam also didn't have a problem apologizing when she knew she was right; she's done it on multiple occasions to maintain peace in either a situation or relationship, even if it jeopardized her integrity for the sake of her sanity.

However, she knew she had acted out of line with Cassian. All her well-grounded arguments, valid points, and sound reasons were no longer important if they meant losing Cassian as her friend. The last thing she wanted was to lose him or strain their relationship, so if it meant walking to him with her tail tucked between her legs to beg at his feet for forgiveness, she was willing to do it. Whatever it took.

When she stepped out onto the cold winter air of the balcony, she saw him out in the training ring, going through a series of regular morning stretches. Sam didn't have to say anything to grab his attention; he was already looking at her when she came to a stop at the edge of the mat, her hands nervously twisting around each other as she gathered her courage to speak.

"Good morning, Sammi." Cassian greeted her quietly, finishing his push-up reps and standing tall before her. Sam noticed that Cassian was trying to keep his wings low to make them appear smaller and out of sight, drooping down his back, where they hovered dangerously close to the ground.

Sam felt relief at the sound of her nickname, almost dropping to her knees before him. However, the sight of Cassian attempting to make his wings, himself, smaller gnawed a hole through her heart.

"Good mornin', Cass." She swallowed the lump in her throat, glancing down at her hands, which were still wringing around each other, and then back up at him. "Cass, I am so sorry for last night. I am so sorry for yellin' at you and acting the way I did like I had no damn sense. I was completely outta line, and you didn't deserve any of it.”

Cassian was silent, watching Sam continue apologizing and trying to break her fingers off. She was already expecting him to wave her off and push her aside, declining her apology and moving on with his life, and Sam wouldn't blame him for it. She was a blip on his radar, a small moment in his extremely long life.

“...and I don’t want you to feel like I don’t appreciate what you’ve done for me, what you’re doin’, or what you’re willin’ to do for me in the future because I do. God, I do. I've never had someone willin' to fight for me, protect me, or even fight me for me, ya know? I’ve never had someone want to fill that role, and here you are willin’ and doin’ it. And I shit on it like it wasn't nothin' when it means everythin' to me. Cass," Sam took a deep breath, knowing that her apology was becoming word vomit, but she couldn't help it. Her emotions were choking the life out of her, and she felt that if she didn't get it out now, it would swallow her up and suffocate her. "I will work, every damn day, to regain your trust if that's what it takes. You mean a lot more to me than I thought possible, but you were right; time doesn't matter in the grand scheme. You bein’ in my life, for however short or long it is, has been such a blessin’ to me. You are such a blessin' to me, and I am so sorry-"

Cassian grabbed her by her shoulders and yanked her forward into his chest, wrapping his arms around her in one of the tightest hugs she had ever received in her life. She struggled to breathe in his unique scent of eucalyptus and cedar, clutching the sides of his leathers as tightly as she could. Nearly swallowed up by his large, bulky frame, Sam turned her head to rest her cheek against his chest, trying to keep her tears under control and suck in little gasps of air. She had cried more than enough, and if she suffocated here and now in Cassian's arms, well, so be it.

“You mean a lot to me too, Sammi,” Cassian told her quietly, his words so soft that they almost got lost in the wind. Clearly, this conversation was meant for them and the air around them. “I forgive you as long as you forgive me too.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Cass.”

He pulled away to search her face with sorrowful eyes, a look Sam didn't like seeing on him. "I wouldn't let you speak," He shook his head, a few strands of hair falling from the tie that held it back. "I should have at least heard you out." He pulled her back for another hug, resting his chin on her head. "I didn't mean to be so overbearing either; I didn't realize I was displaying the way I was."

Sam figured he was talking about his wings, “You don’t have to keep them so tight around me. It was just my first time seeing you as...well, as Commander General.”

“I am sorry either way.” He said, releasing her from his grasp. She tried to hide how deeply she was inhaling the air, trying to catch up on her breathing.

"Forgiven," Sam replied. "Always forgiven."

Cassian's wings relaxed, slowly stretching out and shuddering as they expanded. “I will say...I didn’t expect our little human to try and kick my ass. I was pleasantly shocked.”

Sam took an interest in kicking the small pebbles between them on the ground. "If you had squashed me like a bug, I would've deserved it."

“Well, when you put it that way," Cassian grinned as he ruffled her hair, all in good fun. Sam knew that he would take it a little easy on her but that she was definitely going to get her ass kicked, worse than what she had in the past. This was a lesson she needed to learn and retain.

Cassian, while her friend, was someone you wanted on your side but a fearsome fighter. He was also Illyrian in a fae world, completely different from her and what she was used to. She had to remember that as it was becoming too easy to overlook those facts the closer she got to him, to all of them.

So, after two hours of Cassian effectively kicking her ass over and over again, to where she was nearly on the verge of begging to stop; Sam struggled to get to her feet. Her left leg gave out on her, dropping her down to one knee and attempting to steel herself before she tried again. Sam pushed with all the strength left in her to a standing position, swaying from side to side as sweat clung to her hair. She licked the blood from her lips, gathering it and her saliva together to spit a messy glob onto the ground beside them, pulling her weak, shaking arms back in front of her to prepare for another round of sparring.

Truth be told, she should have stopped a while ago. But she felt like she deserved this.

"Sam, you have a broken nose and a split lip. You need to be seen by Madja. We need to stop," Cassian said to her for the fourth time since it happened an hour in.

Sam had tried to evade him by spinning out of the way but only managed to clothesline herself with his stray retreating elbow. It was a complete accident on their part, but the sound of cartilage crunching and snapping made him immediately stop, and the intense flood of blood pouring from her nose had not stopped since.

“Fuck Sammi, your nose is broken. Come on, let’s get you to Madja.”

“No, set it, and let's continue."

“Sam…”

“Set my damn nose, Cass, please? It’s makin’ my eyes water.”

“I’m fin’, come on.” Sam spat another glob of blood out of her mouth, feeling lightheaded as she raised her bloodied fists back up. The training area was a macabre painting of globs and splattered blood, smeared trails following Sam as she moved around the mat. It was an alarming amount of blood from a simple broken nose, to be fair, but Sam was past the point of delirium.

"Damn it, Sam, stop punishing yourself! You have a bleeding disorder, for Cauldron's sake!" Cassian couldn't stand seeing her beat-up face, blood smeared across her chin and cheeks, and sprays traveling far enough into her hair. Sweat droplets mingled with the thick, ruby substance and slid down her face to sting her eyes. She was a murder scene, her black leathers stained darker on the front, going as far down as her thighs in places. Sam had lost a good amount of blood to be concerned about, but she could feel her nose finally trying to clot and staunch the bleeding. She’d be fine.

She took in a breath of copper-filled air through her mouth, digging deep to find whatever strength she had left to circle around him on her wobbling legs. "I can do this all day." It hurt to smirk, but Captain America would be proud of her.

"Please don't make me do it," Cassian begged her as he circled her as well, realizing that Sam was either going to finish her sparring session or she wasn’t aware of just how serious the situation was. He was pleading with her to see sense, to see how badly this was hurting him now. He could hardly find the will to lift his hands. "Sam, please don't make me do this."

“Do it.”

“Fuck, Sam. Please.” Cassian groaned, watching Sam give into a dangerous sway from the blood loss. “You don’t deserve to be punished like this.”

“It’s one of my kinks,” Sam mumbled, her vision beginning to go blurry. Or was the bloody sweat in her eye again? She could still see him if she squints.

“I didn't need to know that," Cassian grumbled, still circling her but refusing to strike. "Mother above, Sam, you're half dead from blood loss!"

“Don't be dramatic." Sam's voice was sounding far away, even to her. Another glob of spit and blood added to the gore, decorating the ground.

Cassian made a pained sound, a near growl if Sam had ever heard one, but it sounded like a wounded animal calling out for mercy. Sam continued to feel her body move in a circle around him. Was she controlling her own limbs anymore? Was she still standing? She couldn’t tell.

“I'm sorry, Sam." She heard Cassian tell her, but what did he have to apologize for? She was the one who was sorry, couldn't he tell? "He’s gonna fuckin’ kill me for this.”

Sam went to reply when suddenly Cassian disappeared in front of her, followed by a rough, quick strike to her neck. The training area, the mat, and the view of Velaris over the railing immediately turned black, and Sam had a passing thought that someone had turned the lights out. She felt her body turn into dead weight, smacking the ground with a dense thud.

Total knockout.

-x-

Sam groaned, squeezing her eyes tightly together as the pounding in her head reached a pinnacle. She had an intense headache pounding through her skull, and her whole body felt like she had been in a car accident, muscles stiff and limbs feeling like they were filled with lead. Her tongue poked out to wet the dry and cracked skin of her lips with another confused, painful groan.

The fuck happened?

“You know,” A voice spoke from her left. “If you had a death wish, there are easier and far more pleasant ways to go besides fighting Cassian and bleeding out.”

Sam let out another groan, carefully cracking her eyes open to the dimly lit room around her. She wasn't in her bedroom at the House of Wind; that much was certain. Her vision cleared enough for her to realize she was in the Townhouse, down in Velaris. The room was decorated in deep reds and natural wood, lavishly covered in flowing fabrics and tasteful décor. This wasn't the bedroom she had originally used when she was first here, either. How did she get down here?

Hissing as she tried pushing herself up into a sitting position, she turned to see Nesta helping her get situated, lifting her from under her arms so her back was against the fluffy, comfortable pillows. “What happened?”

“You lost a serious amount of blood,” Nesta told her, handing her a cup filled with ice chips and water. “You broke your nose and continued to spar with Cassian.”

“I felt okay," Sam said; her voice was broken and rough. She slowly chewed on some ice chips as her memories decided to catch up, staring hard into the bottom of her cup. "Cassian?"

“Cassian is fine,” Nesta assured her, monitoring how much ice she was consuming. “He'll finally be relieved when I tell him you've woken up."

Sam closed her eyes and sighed heavily. What's a little more guilt to tack on? She had gone into the sparring lesson to atone and beg forgiveness. Instead, she nearly killed herself.

Nesta sat back in her chair, which was positioned directly beside Sam’s bed. “Cassian knocked you out so he could rush you down to Velaris to see Madja. You were on the verge of going into shock, and we are fortunate that you didn't."

Sam gently brushed her fingers along the bridge of her nose, feeling for the telltale bump that it was broken. Finding nothing but intense soreness, she turned to Nesta in confusion, “Is my -”

“Madja was able to heal your nose and treat you for blood loss and dehydration. You will likely feel weak and tired for the next few days, along with soreness. You are advised to take it easy.” Nesta explained, and her tone left room for no argument. “Sam, you could have died.”

“Not from a broken nose.”

"No, but the blood loss of a broken nose of somebody who has a bleeding disorder could have caused you to die." Nesta was upset, making Sam want to hide in the blankets. "Madja has already sent this over for you to take once a month."

A little vial filled with a red liquid was presented to her to examine. She turned it over in her hands, watching the little specks of black chase each other in the vial. “What is it?”

"It's a clotting agent; it'll help your blood clot quickly should you sustain injury. It’s usually used immediately on a battlefield or in the camps to control bleeding. Still, given how you bleed out, Madja believes that with enough doses, your biological makeup should be able to mimic its effects and produce its own clotting factors adequately." Nesta explained while she handed her another vial filled with a gold substance. “That’s in case it alters your menstrual cycle. While your blood disorder doesn't affect your cycle, the medicine does not discriminate. If the medicine causes your cycle to worsen, that other potion will halt it every three months to give your body enough time to produce its own clotting factor. It'll be a little touch and go."

“How many doses does Madja believe it will take?" Sam asked as she held the equivalent of Prythian birth control in her hand. That was at least one thing Prythian and Earth had in common with female health remedies: birth control can solve everything.

“Rhys and Madja expect about six doses, twelve at the max," Nesta replied, and Sam heard the underlying message loud and clear.

It was gonna take six months to a year.

This means they were aware that the probability of sending her back to her world could take just as long, if not longer, than that. Rhys was already planning for the future and ensuring her health because of it. Hearing the timeline, though, did nothing to stop the pain in her heart.

In the back of her mind, she knew it would take a while. She even thought it likely would, but hearing it be confirmed by another didn't ease the stab of disappointment. If any other person had told her that it would take that long, she would have held onto the kernel of hope that they were wrong. But now, that kernel of hope was smaller than a mustard seed.

“I know it’s not what you want to hear,” Nesta began, but Sam waved it off, shaking her head.

"No, no, I understand," Sam said quickly, even though the cup of ice suddenly became interesting again. "I get it. Thank you for helpin' me." She motioned to the two vials in her hands. "And...I’m sorry, Nes. For going off on you and Cassian - “

“Sam, you've been out for two days," Nesta responded, handing her some crackers to nibble on. "And the only thing I was mad at you about was ruining our training schedule. We were supposed to start on weapons yesterday." Nesta rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "You being half-dead really put a damper on things."

Sam tried to hide the tiny smile that played on her lips. Nesta had forgiven her. Nesta. Of all people...fae, whatever. Sam was going to boast about this to herself regularly.

“You'll be staying down here for the time being," Nesta told her, and Sam quirked an eyebrow at her. "Rhys thought it would be easier to keep you ground level for the time being as you may experience dizziness for a few days."

“But...all my things…” Sam frowned and ran a hand through her hair. What was she supposed to do ‘for the time being’?

“Cassian and Azriel have already brought everything down, at least, what they thought you would want.” Nesta pointed to the stack of books on a small table. “And...Cassian believed you would feel more comfortable knowing this was around.”

Nesta opened the bedside drawer to her nightstand, and inside, tucked between some cloth, the matte black metal of her firearm lay there. Sam liked to imagine that Cassian handled the gun with the utmost care, but knowing him, he likely had to fight back the intrusive thoughts to go ahead and fire it.

Nesta slowly got to her feet, smoothing her dress from where it wrinkled at her thighs. “You have visitors if you are up for company,” She stopped for a moment as if straining to listen to something. “Though, I don’t think he would take no for an answer.”

The smile appeared again on Sam's face, looking more like a grimace as she ducked her head. “Sure.”

Nesta nodded goodbye before leaving the room, leaving her alone with her cup of ice and headache. She had been out for two days, recovering from her near-death experience and blissfully unaware of the problems still awaiting her.

Sam almost jumped and dropped her cup of ice when the door suddenly burst open, and Cassian filled the doorway. She had to hold back her shocked gasp as she took in his battered face, his black eye standing out against his tanned skin, and the various cuts and bruises littering his arms that were healing and fading. He must have gotten seriously hurt if his injuries were still healing, given how they looked. But the haphazardly thrown-together bouquet of flowers he held tightly in his hand made Sam want to cry.

God, she did not deserve him.

"You're alive!" Cassian exclaimed, bumbling towards her side and dropping the flowers on her legs to kiss her head. "Fuck, I thought I killed you."

“It’ll take more than that to kill me, Cass.” Sam reached around his shoulders to give him an awkward but welcomed hug. “I’m sorry.”

“Madja said another thirty minutes or so, and we would be planning a funeral for you.” Cassian assessed her face, looking for any indication that her injuries were still there. “Why? Why did you continue? You knew what it would cost, didn’t you?”

Sam picked at her cup, frowning at the nearly gone ice inside. "I deserved it; I wanted to punish myself for allowin' myself to be a monster, even for a minute."

“Sam, you’re not - “

“I am, though.” Sam interrupted, “At no point should someone raise their fists at someone they claim to love out of anger, and I did. I did, Cass. I did exactly what was done to me and didn't even think about it."

“You're not a monster, Sam." Cassian held up a hand when she went to interrupt again to insist that she was. "If you were a monster, one, you would not have apologized and meant it. And two, you punished yourself far more than anyone else could punish you. If you were a monster, then you wouldn't be sitting in a bed recovering from nearly dying and still trying to apologize. Monsters don’t do that.”

Sam chewed on her dry lip, "Yeah, but-"

"Hey, Sammi?"

“Yeah?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

Sam involuntarily let out an ‘oop’ but stopped talking, content to swirl the ice chips in her cup. Cassian sat down in the chair, grabbing her flowers from her legs and placing them on the nightstand. “But, can we go back to when you said you loved me?”

Sam balked, “I never said I loved you.”

"You kinda did," Cassian replied with a sly grin. "I can't wait to brag about it."

“You’re gonna be sickening,” Sam groaned but chuckled. She tipped her chin toward him while she eyed his injuries. “What happened to your face?”

“What I thought would happen and something you don’t need to worry about,” Cassian replied, leaning back in the chair Nesta had vacated. “Just know that I deserved it.”

-x-

Rustling and banging outside the Townhouse jolted Sam out of her sleep with a shuddering breath. Her vision adjusted quickly to the darkness surrounding her, and her hands reached for the gun that Nesta had left in the nightstand drawer the day before.

Who the hell was in the Townhouse makin’ all that damn noise?

Her heart was racing, wildly thumping in her ears at the sudden opening and closing of the front door. Wide awake and alert, Sam threw the bed covers back and got to her feet as quickly and quietly as she could manage, weapon held out in front of her with the safety already off.

The banging continued in the front of the house as her blood pressure increased, her heart already under strain due to her massive blood loss just days prior. Creeping to quietly open her door, she pressed herself against the door frame to peer around the threshold, gun aimed down at the plush carpet while she surveyed the hall ahead.

It had only been a few months since she felt this surge of adrenaline coursing through her veins, the thrill of terrifying excitement flooding her nervous system, making her damn near giddy. A sense of impending devastation laced with intoxicating exhilaration hung in limbo around her as she carefully made her way toward the front of the house.

It was making her feel alive.

Cradling the gun in her hands and following the protective sweeping procedures of a house that Josh had insisted on teaching her years ago, she cleared the rooms along the hall one by one. Josh had been nervous about Sam's ex attempting to find her one day and took precautions to ensure her safety. She would have never guessed that she would be using his training for the first time in another world.

She kept her footsteps light, avoiding the creaky floorboards as much as possible. The hallway opened up into the entranceway along the stairs, the dining room on her left side and the sitting room on her right. The faelights were out, near total darkness encasing the house with only sporadic trickles of moonlight illuminating the room's dark corners. If Sam had focused on the shadows that hovered around her, she would have noticed a few disappear into the night.

The stairwell provided coverage, so she kept herself low to peek between the railing bars. Shuffling, murmured urgent curses, and quiet moans carried out of the sitting room.

Sam held her breath, trying to recognize the voice, but she didn't. A hot surge of apprehension rained down her neck as a flash of long, light hair quickly crossed the sitting room threshold, shooting and disappearing to the other side of the room.

Fuck, there was an intruder.

She took a few deep breaths to steady her heart rate, which had skyrocketed to dangerous levels. Either her heart was about to give out on her, or she would survive with a wicked story to tell, the latter being preferable.

The cool metal in her hands settled comfortably, and she double-checked her weapon, talking to herself to get her mind straight and focused. She could do this. She had to do this.

Someone was in the Townhouse, someone she didn't recognize. This house was, for all intents and purposes, for the time being, her home. It was hers to defend, and she would; she didn't need the tattoos on her back to ensure that.

She waited for the right moment, the perfect moment of opportunity, for the flash of light hair to return to one of the sofas. She watched as they crouched down, muttering something so quietly that she couldn't understand what they were saying.

She moved, gliding to the threshold and aiming her weapon directly at the intruder’s chest, hands steady and face emotionless.

Click.

“One false move, and I will drop you where you fuckin' stand, d'you hear me?"

Silence.

"That question requires an immediate answer; now, do you hear me?”

"Yes," a male voice answered. Deep but rich, and still, she didn't recognize it. "Yes, I hear you."

“Good. Back up, keep your hands where I can see them.” Sam moved cautiously forward as the male dropped whatever they were holding and did as she said, stepping back towards the unlit fireplace.

The fireplace roared to life as if the Townhouse sensed her needs, and the faelights around the room began to emit a soft glow. Suddenly, she could see but hoped that what she saw was a dream.

Standing in the middle of the sitting room was a beautiful and regal male Sam had never seen before. Dressed in a gold embellished green jacket and trousers, a disheveled, long-haired blond male stared back at her, his hands still raised in surrender, tracking her movements with piercing green eyes. Almost with near animalistic precision, he watched every inhale and exhale that came and went from Sam's chest. She took notice of the blood covering his hands and staining his white shirt, his gaze flickering between her and the gun as they stood off in a stalemate.

It was at that moment that Sam saw movement out of the corner of her eye, and a familiar red-headed male, bleeding on the black sofa and quietly making pain-filled noises, caught her attention.

“Shit! Lucien!” Sam’s gaze snapped to the male still standing near the fireplace. “Stay where you are.”

She approached Lucien, her body and eyes still facing the unknown fae before her. When she took in Lucien, she nearly lost her composure, eyes wide and breathing halting at the sight of her friend.

Lucien's glazed eye was looking at her, but it was unfocused, his mechanical eye not moving at all, almost frozen. Pale, bloodied, clothes in near tatters, and a trail of blood connecting him to his place on the couch and the front entrance. Lucien was in horrible shape.

“Sam..?”

"I'm here, what the fuck Luce?" Sam whispered in near shock as the male she had at gunpoint took a step forward. "I didn't say fuckin' move!" She thrust her gun in his direction, angrily glaring holes through him.

“Sam, it’s okay. That’s Tamlin, High Lord of Spring.” Lucien took a deep breath, grimacing as he did so.

“Oh fuck,” She immediately lowered her weapon and clicked the safety back on, stashing it in the elastic of her black night shorts at the small of her back. Shit, she just pulled a gun on a High Lord. “Okay, shit, you can move.”

Tamlin nodded in greeting and lowered his hands, carefully approaching her and Lucien but keeping his piercing eyes on her. He looked at her like a predator, assessing a new threat and how one would take it down.

Sam took another look at Lucien before bursting into action. Rushing from the living room towards the kitchen to grab multiple pieces of clean cloth and a bowl of fresh water, she dropped them to Tamlin's side. Then, darting back and forth between her bedroom, kitchen, a closet in the hallway, and the bathroom, she gathered any and all supplies that looked like they could help, not knowing how badly Lucien had been hurt.

Bursting through the threshold again with her arms full of towels, a sewing kit, what looked like a medical field kit, and random vials of tonics, she dropped them in a heap on the floor before sinking to her knees next to Tamlin.

"I don't know what's in a lot of those vials, but I grabbed all that I could find, " she told the blond High Lord, who spared a glance at the vials and her. She turned to Lucien, "We're about to get very friendly with each other very fast."

Lucien swallowed a large gulp of whiskey from a bottle Sam assumed Tamlin had either found or brought with them. "At least I have a view to work with." His tone was attempting to be teasing, but it sounded more like he had a sore throat, low and scratchy, missing its mark completely.

Sam looked down at her low-cut, blue tank top, which was beginning to turn dark with Lucien's blood. She rolled her eyes. "Males." She wasn't offended, nor was she embarrassed about it. She had been sleeping when they came in. Was she supposed to be wrapped like a mummy?

Was it weird that Lucien was looking at her breasts? Eh, maybe. But did Sam care as long as he stayed awake and survived? Absolutely not. He could look all he wanted to as long as he remained conscious.

Tamlin was wiping up what he could with the provided cloth, but it wasn't making much difference; Lucien was nearly pouring from whatever wounds he had underneath his clothes.

Tugging the ripped lapels of his shirt out of the way, Sam was met with a very muscled, slightly tanned torso and abdominals a person could likely wash clothes on...if it wasn't for the significant, gaping slash that was running from his left pectoral muscle down past his right hip bone. Smaller gashes littered his body, and as Sam continued to assess the damage done to him, the question of 'how is he alive' began to echo in her mind.

Tamlin immediately gathered more cloths to apply firm pressure to gushing areas as they revealed themselves, and Lucien groaned in pain at the contact.

Sam controlled the blush that was beginning to creep up her neck as she followed the most significant wound into the waistband of his trousers. "Uh, it runs into your pants...we'll have to remove them." She told him, and Lucien only drank another large swig of whiskey as an answer, likely trying to pretend that Sam was anyone other than...Sam. “Okay, got it. Hold the cloth that Tamlin is holding.”

With as steady fingers as she could, given the adrenaline pumping through her, she unbuttoned his trousers, Lucien lifting his hips high enough for her and Tamlin to ease his pants down his legs. Lucien gnashed his teeth together in agony at the movement, a high-pitched groan tumbling from between his teeth as blood bubbled out from beneath the cloth. Sam hurriedly began to fiddle with a needle between her and Tamlin, pretending she didn't just see what she knew she did while Tamlin placed a large towel on his hips to cover his groin.

Fae males were definitely built differently than human males, and Sam had to force the image that tried to sear itself into her brain.

Fair enough, Lucien could stare at her tits all he wants.

“What the fuck happened, Luce?” Sam asked as Tamlin got to work by drowning cloths in alcohol. Threading a needle had never been more of a pain in the ass than right now. “You need to see a docto-a healer.”

"No, I'll be fine." Lucien began, only to groan again when he shifted his weight on the couch. "I didn't know you were here."

"Is that why you came to the Townhouse? You didn't think anyone would be here?" She asked; a healthy dose of suspicion tainted her tone, and with Lucien's silence, she knew what the answer was. "I broke my nose and nearly died, or so I'm told; that's why I'm here." She shrugged it off, but that gave her an idea. Shuffling through the vials between her and Tamlin, she grasped a dark red vial and plucked the cork out. "Take this, blood replenishing. Madja left some here while she tended to me."

"You nearly died? What the hell happened, Sam? I told you to send for me." Lucien tried to sit up but was forcefully pushed back down by Tamlin's bloodied hand. The movement caused the gashes to rip back open from where Lucien had held pressure on them.

“Nothing that matters right now,” Sam handed him the vial, which he downed like it was a shot of liquor. “When does your fae healing kick in?”

“It takes a minute,” Tamlin answered her in a smooth, rich voice. “He was shot with an ash arrow and - “

"Enough," Lucien interrupted with clenched teeth as Tamlin replaced the blood-soaked cloth with the alcohol-doused one. "I will survive."

"Lucien, you're bleedin' out in the middle of the livin' room in Velaris, brought here by the High Lord of Spring in the dead of night after missin' for nearly three weeks. Respectfully, shut up, and let us help you. For fuck's sake, man." Sam snapped at him, rising on her knees to lean over his thigh to begin stitching the gaping parts of his wound. Tamlin moved the sterilized cloth away as she got into position. "These won't look pretty, but I'm bettin' your healin' abilities will dissolve them anyway. This will hurt."

Lucien glared at her before taking a long drink from the bottle. "You have no bedside manner. Has anyone ever told you that?"

“Do you want me to coddle you instead? Kiss your head and sing lullabies?" Sam asked, briefly catching his eye as she pierced his skin with the needle. Lucien hissed in pain at her. "Drink your fuckin' whiskey and stare at my tits unless you want Tamlin to strip down too?"

Lucien scoffed, “Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

Sam hummed in the back of her throat, focused on stitching his skin together and keeping him talking. “Kinky, I like it.”

Tamlin's hand reached between both of hers from below to dab away the blood oozing from the wound so Sam had a clean and clear area to work on. She worked as quickly as she could, noticing that as she moved down Lucien's body, the cut was beginning to heal faster in the areas she had just left. She and Tamlin worked in tandem, quickly and effectively staunching the bleeding of various wounds, carefully stitching the skin, and wiping away blood and debris from unblemished skin.

"You're not doing half bad of a job," Tamlin said quietly to Sam.

"Thanks. Flesh makes for a rather poor garment, I'm afraid." She tied off the ending of the thread, finishing the gash that ended along Lucien's hip. "Sorry for holding you at gunpoint; I did the same to Lucien when I first met him."

"So, a rite of passage?" Tamlin flashed a half smile as he joked to try to ease the tension in the room. They continued to patch Lucien up as well as they could. Lucien wasn't expressing that he was in as much pain as before, and Sam believed it was a good sign. At least he didn't keel over in the middle of the living room. That would be hard to explain.

“Basically," Sam offered her small smile in return, still unsure of Spring's High Lord given everything she had heard about him. They had worked wonderfully together in a high-stress, emergency situation without knowing each other, and that was after Sam held him at gunpoint. "I consider it a nice icebreaker, at least."

“She comes with her very own warning, Tamlin," Lucien replied, leaning back against the couch with a relieved sigh.

She and Tamlin had just leaned back from working, away from Lucien, when a thundering impact sounded from outside the Townhouse, followed by another as loud. Sam jumped, almost thinking a bomb had gone off, when the hinges of the townhouse door exploded in a shower of fractured wood.

Sam screamed, hovering her bloodied forearms in front of her face to block the rouge splinters from impaling her skin. When she pulled her arms away from her face, her stomach plummeted.

Because, of course, of fuckin’ course, they would show up now. Sam was on the floor next to Tamlin, covered in blood and in her less-than-appropriate night clothes, on her knees in front of a nearly naked Lucien in the middle of the night. This couldn't look any worse.

Azriel and Cassian's presence made Sam shudder, making a part of her subconscious mind want to shrink and submit from the near-primal rage they exuded.

But all Sam could do was raise her bloodied hands up in surrender, her right hand still holding the stitching needle that had just finished passing through Lucien's skin, and she looked at them with wild eyes.

“Okay, look, I know it looks bad, but it’s not what it looks like, I prom - “

Sam went to continue speaking when she felt it. A burst of knee-bending, mind-altering, utterly overwhelming power shook the Townhouse. She felt suffocated as wave after wave of dangerous, dark magic lashed at her body and the air around her, her ears ringing in warning.

Rhysand was coming.

Tag List: @smol-grandpa, @daughterofthemoons-stuff, @plants-w0rld, @rcarbo1

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thatcryptidinthesea · 2 years ago

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Strap in boys, this is a long one.

So I was looking back through the pages of the manga and I noticed something very interesting about Hyuse. It's a really subtle thing but it's been blowing my mind all the way to Saturn and back.

I had to split this post up because of the Tumblr picture limit so if you want the full version you can find it here.

When we first meet Hyuse, he's in the Aftokrator Away Ship, dressed in Aftokrator's military uniform, surrounded by fellow soldiers. And he looks like this:

Look at his hair. It's neat and tidy, slicked back to be smooth and out of the way. It's very round and flat and well-behaved, almost like it's been polished.

Soon after this, Hyuse is instructed to go out and fight Tamakoma-1. So he does. He goes with Viza and he fights Tamakoma-1.

But Tamakoma-1 isn't easy to beat. In fact, they're quite hard to beat, and Hyuse is encountering some difficulties. Their techniques and weapons are new, unusual and unknown to him - he's being exposed to how Meeden works for the first time. And his hair... scruffs just a little bit.

Just a little bit messier, not a lot to really matter. Could be just the effect of an intense fight.

Then he meets Jin.

And then he fights Jin. And after fighting Jin and learning that his fellow Aftokratans have left, he looks like this:

Those back spikes weren't like that before, were they? No, after having fought with Jin and being told he's been abandoned by his comrades, Hyuse's hair is definitely scruffier. (Also, doesn't that crack look weirdly like he's... crying? Food for thought.)

So Aftokrator loses and Hyuse is taken prisoner, and when we next see him, it's here:

Posture slouched, hands in his pockets, hood over his head. A very clear anti-social stance. He doesn't want to be here, he doesn't want to talk to these people, he's pretty much doing this against his will. So he's reluctant, and he's hiding.

This is a common thing with Hyuse. It's how Ashihara communicates the distance between Hyuse and other characters to the audience; if he doesn't want to be there, he puts the hood up and he hides. And it's kinda interesting that the behaviour that is associated with Hyuse hiding is also the behaviour where he covers his hair.

His hair, which went from almost-uniform neatness in Aftokrator's ship to a ruffled mess after being on Meeden.

Do you see where this is heading? Let me keep going.

After the Aftokrator invasion, Hyuse spends some time among Tamakoma Branch as per Border's way of keeping him prisoner. He barely talks to any of the people there, but that doesn't mean he doesn't interact with them. He's still in the same space as them, sharing the same environment, so he continues to gain exposure to Meeden and its people, and he bonds particularly with Yōtarō.

Following this, the next major event in the story is the Galopoula invasion. Towards the end Hyuse meets with one of the Galopoula soldiers (Reghindetz) and demands to be taken with them so he can return to Aftokrator.

Hyuse fakes stabbing Yōtarō in order to convince Reghindetz of taking him with them, but Reghindetz flips out a completely grills him.

Chapter 135 is the first ever chapter to be titled with Hyuse's name; it's incredibly important to his character, and this panel is the centre of it. It takes up half the page it's on. Ashihara wanted to make it very clear to the audience that this moment for Hyuse is absolutely critical - and it is, because this is a major turning point in Hyuse's character growth. He's just had the blatant truth of what it means to be left behind by Aftokrator thrown right in his face.

And you wanna know what Ashihara chose to highlight in such an incredibly crucial moment for Hyuse's character?

His fucking hair.

His messy, fluffy, scruffy hair that looks absolutely nothing like it did when he first arrived in the Aftokrator ship. His hair, which has gone from neat and orderly and controlled to wild and free just from being on Meeden.

But the absolute wildest part? Hyuse looks like a teenager now. The more his hair fluffs up and gets scruffy, the more Hyuse looks like a normal everyday teenager who just grew up on Meeden/Earth. It's insane. It's surreal. It's absolutely off-the-walls batshit bonkers and Ashihara is a bloody genius.

It doesn't stop there either, because the very next thing that happens is the first time the audience gets to see Hyuse put on Lambyris. And lo and behold...

Hyuse, using Lambyris and wearing Aftokrator's military uniform, has scruffy hair.

Ashihara could've just made it so that Lambyris automatically gives Hyuse neatened hair, and excused the previous scruffiness with "he was in a fight". But he didn't. Instead he chose to show us Hyuse putting on Lambyris while looking like a normal teenager, and have his trion body load in with god damn scruffy hair.

What happens afterwards? Well...

Hyuse hides again.

Notice how he took the hood off when facing Reghindetz? He was confident then, self-assured. He had a plan and he was gonna act on it. Now, that's all been crushed. He's back to square one and worse, he's been confronted with the fact that he's been abandoned.

There's a distinct pattern to Hyuse's hiding. Whenever he's faced with something that shakes his world view and/or hurts his pride, he puts his hood up. He creates a second shield for himself and he uses it to cover up his key defining features. This isn't just anti-social behaviour, it's a defence mechanism.

The Aftokrator invasion? No hood, but the moment he's taken prisoner of war it's there. Aftokrator lost and then left Hyuse behind, and he's hiding how he's hurt by that. On top of that, he's being manhandled by Border.

Confronting Reghindetz? No hood, he didn't feel like he needed it. Post-Galopoula invasion? Hood up, head down, won't sit near anyone but Yōtarō. He's having to rearrange his whole perception of himself, Aftokrator and Meeden and it sucks.

And thirdly, confronting the Border Executives. In order for Hyuse to get back to Aftokrator, he needs to join Tamakoma-2 as their second ace, and help them get onto the Away Mission team. To do that, however, he needs approval from the heads of Border - which means he needs Osamu to plead his case.

Notice how, by having him sat down, Ashihara made Hyuse shorter than Yūma in this panel? How Hyuse, who's normally the tallest out of Tamakoma-2, is depicted as smaller than their smallest member? And even more than that, how Osamu is now the tallest?

Where Hyuse is normally the guide, the advisor, the more experienced one that the others turn to, in this situation he is the one reliant on them.

And look, he's regressed. He's gone back to that flat-eyed stare he had when we first saw him in the hoodie, sat in the back of the car.

He's been placed into a situation where he is basically powerless and completely dependent on others to survive, and in response all of his defence mechanisms have gone back up. He refuses to emote properly and only talks when he feels it's absolutely necessary, and the hood stays firmly on - hiding not only his hair but his horns as well, the key defining feature of his Neighbour heritage.

But Mikumo succeeds in getting Hyuse approved for Tamakoma-2. And Hyuse, incidentally, goes back to being depicted as the tallest of the four of them.

From this angle, it also appears that he's no longer slouching. His confidence is slowly coming back.

So at long last, in Chapter 150/151, Hyuse joins Border. He rocks up at the induction ceremony in a customised C-Rank uniform, hair fully exposed and scruffy as ever.

#it's turtle time #world trigger #wt meta #hyuse #this is only part 1 #link to the whole thing is at the start

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imustbenuts · 10 months ago

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nuts reading trigun in japanese 6 - kaite's foreshadowing. plant synchronization's downside

remember in my part 3 and 5 i was talking about hierarchy? surprisingly, it continues past chapter 8 with kaite. and wolfwood. triangulating nyoom

(to be honest... ive been doing these read and analysis completely blind in a 1st JP read through. so its possible ill find new nuances, get things wrong as the context shifts and changes, so my stuff looks like its scattered all over the place. sorry about that.)

i think ill start explaining names and meanings. kaite's name in japanese is kaito. カイト. this can be a homonym with i think 怪盗 (kaitou) in this case, which means phantom thief. for trying to help Neon with stealing loot from the Sand Steamer.

left bubble next to neon: 道案内は的確だったかね！？ I trust your guide has been giving you clear instructions?

^the headaches with manga translations has always been to keep texts short and reasonable for flow and readability, so these simplifications can and sometimes must happen.

but, add dakutens, the " on 2 of those カイト katakanas and suddenly, kaito turns into. ガイド gaido. Guide.

so Kaite has been playing as a guide to lead vash to his death at the hands of Neon. this page is such a fucking whammy with the wordplay going on. if you just read this in japanese theres a moment of "oh shit, no way, Kaite, vash just told you to stop betraying people! what the hell!"

yet theres a level of trust going on already, so its not as bad as it seems

nightow really likes his worldplay. i really like this page.

kaite redeems himself by later charging into the boiler room and helps turn the valve to stop the sand steamer from running off cliff and killing everyone on board....

hm. a guide. and those sequences

we sure have a lot of guides here. one who appears in the manga later with a kansai dialect. and another in TriStamp, where he is younger than he appears.

when i spoke about hierarchy and the fact that vash is over 150, i was also kind of hinting that all of current humanity are akin to children in the system of JP hierarchy. that takes on extra meaning with a little change of context and language

wolfwood is filling in the shoes of kaito here in tristamp. and within trimax, kaito foreshadows him. incredible.

theres actually more going on with wolfwood and certain design/changes choices i wanna talk about with tristamp but ill save it for another day. maybe when i run into him in this read later

Plant Synchronization downside.

....so theres a bad downside to vash synchronizing with the plant that i didn't catch. which also answers what the fuck was going on in tristamp when that version of him hits the ground

nightow mentions this in an interview, link here posted and transcribed by xoxo-otome (thank you!) that he likes action flicks and has incorporated a lot of action into his work. and its true. there is so much action in the form of sound effects.

reading through the entire manga and paying attention to the sfx peppered around offers a lot more context to whats happening in half of the panels that seemingly doesnt make sense

like this one where the top panel has "DADADADADA" sfx. so they're stomping down the corridor with their guns crossed and facing each other. the "GO OH" in the bottom panel emphasizes the sudden burst into open air. unfortunately, anyone who values their life and sanity in this economy will not want to translate trigun's sfxs 100%.

i should have paid more attention when reading trigun in english. but i didn't so here i am. in the trigunbookclub tag now doing this.

why is it important? here. this. below. when vash does his plant thing with his sister:

see those heart panels? i tried searching real quick but nobody seems to have pointed this out. i havent seen this in EN fanfics. maybe i missed it. maybe im stupid:

thats Dokun, the sound effect of a heart thumping. as vash synchronizes, the heart panels with the same sound effect appear, but they gradually split apart further with ellipses "..." to signify his heart beat slowing down. and down. and down....

Dokun, do kun, do... kun....

then the wings comes out. and the panel below it:

sfx: PIIIIIIIIIII

breathes. a FLAT LINE.

aaaaaaAA?!

何かなんだかわかりません I'm not sure what's going on. とにかくプラントの動きは一切止まっています But the Plant's movement has completely stopped. 同時に男にも呼吸　心音ともに停止してます It's the same with that man. His breathing and heartbeat sounds like it's stopped with the plant too.

AAAAA?!!?! the も means vash is in the same state as the plant?

i.... um. um.,, ANYWAY-

AAAAAAAAAAAA?! HUH?! HUH??? HUH?!

is THIS why he has a metal grate over his heart? something happened and he an an operation on his heart???? by some engineer maybe? what? huh? am i reading this wrong? what? wait, hello? HEY!!!

what the fuck. okAY--?!

and then he just. pretends like nothing's happened. doesnt tell kaito anything. and he leaves the Sand Steamer.

and im going to have to sleep bc its 5 am now and pretend like i didnt just realize something this big right in front of my eyes during the first read.

#trigun #trigunbookclub #trigun stampede #vash the stampede

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uh-oh-its-bird · 1 year ago

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Short snippet from my fic 'one step three steps' under the cut. Ft. Shinobi politics and Hatake clan lore via gossiping at the bar about what happens when a clan drops off the map

No context needed, can be read as standalone, I just thought it was neat enough to post on its own.

"What are the odds there are— or were," Izumo grimaced. "Some offshoot branch of the Hatake family out there?"

"Not impossible, I think? They were a real clan once, right?"

Kotetsu blinked. "Were they? I kind of thought they used to be civilians or something, before the White Fang."

"No way, the Hatake's were huge once."

"No shit?"

"Yeah, they were— fuck," Genma squinted into his cup, now well and truly flushed from his drink. For a guy sent on so many honeypot and information gathering missions he was a bit of a lightweight, huh?

"6th? Is that right? 6th-ish clan to come to Konoha, way back when. It's not really taught anymore since they died off so fast and lost relevancy, but they were decently important, wayyy back in the day. Had some sort of deal with the Senju."

"Nerd." Kurenai snorted, but she looked thoughtful.

"Hey, this sort of thing is important!" Genma pointed at her. "This kind of history gets buried so fast, it's crazy."

"But why though?" Kotetsu asked.

"I mean," Genma frowned. "It's kind of complicated. It's a whole politics thing, you know? Every few years they get together and talk about what gets taught in school. All the clans have say and all the big ones wanna make sure that everyone remembers who was there first so there's a lot of pushing on how to split the importance among them. So when a whole clan up and falls off a cliff . . ."

"There's no one left to advocate for them getting taught about." Izumo finished, looking unsettled.

"Damn."

Genma shrugged. "That's just how it is, really. Happened to the Uzumaki's, happened to the Hatake's; Would have happened to the Senju too, if the Hokage was any less sentimental about it."

"And it's not like they teach a lot about history in the first place, do they?" Pointed out Kurenai with a sigh. "Most kids learn that stuff at home, if they're clan brats."

"Pour one out for all the civilian losers with the disadvantage once again." Izumo sighed, and he clinked glasses with a cheering Kotetsu and Kurenai as Genma, the only clan brat among them, snorted into his cup.

Read the full chapter here ->

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birinboom · 1 year ago

Text

Kirishima Comes Home To Reader Drunk Off His Ass

Kirishima Eijirou x GN Reader

Established relationships, alcohol consumption, pet names (Reader calls Kiri ‘honey’, Kiri calls Reader ‘babe’), fluff, spice 💌 832 words

A/N: This drabble actually belongs to a Kiri x OC fic I’m working on. Not sure if I’ll ever manage to finish it enough to even post the first chapter so I rewrote this part to fit a GN Reader. If I left in any fem pronouns please let me know!

You were jerked out of your sleep when the front door slammed, then someone shushed it loudly.

Groaning at the rude awakening, you rolled over to check the time. Eijirou was finally home from his agency’s New Year’s celebration, and it sounded like he was drunk off his ass. Turning on the bedside lamp, you got up with a heavy sigh; when he got this drunk he usually needed help getting into bed. Thankfully you only had to deal with his drunk, stubborn ass once or twice a year.

You found him sitting on the floor by the entryway, trying - and failing - at pulling his shoes off.

“Hey,” you mumbled, rubbing your face.

Eijirou looked up at you with a bright, toothy smile. “Hiya!”

Crouching next to him, you pointed at his shoes. “Y’know it might work better if you untied them first.”

“Oh.”

“Do you need help?”

“Naw, I got this!”

He finally managed to get his shoes off and got to his feet, swaying. You eyed him suspiciously. “How much did you drink?”

“Jus’ a lil’ bit. About… thiiiis much!” he giggled, holding his thumb and index finger up about two millimeters apart.

You sighed again, looping an arm around his back. “You’re such a pain when you’re drunk.”

“Am not! At least I don’t get angerey, like Ba-*hic*-hakugou.”

“Mhm. Let’s get you to bed, honey.”

He shushed you. “We gotta be quiet, my partner’s prob’ly asleep.”

You couldn’t help but smile. This was the first time he had been drunk enough to not recognize you. “Is that so?”

“Yeah! They need their sleep, they work wa-hay too hard.” He let out another giggle. “They’re super-super-duper cute when they sleep. Have you ever met them?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Well, you should!”

When the two of you made it to the bedroom, Eijirou flopped down on the bed, then pointed at the oversized Red Riot shirt you were wearing. “Hey, that’s me!! I didn’t realize you were a fan!”

You had trouble hiding your smirk. “One might even say I’m your biggest fan.”

“Oh, cool! It’s nice to meet ya.”

“Yeah, likewise.” You reached for his belt buckle but he pushed your hands away.

“Whoa, what are you doing?!”

“C’mon, Ei, I wanna go back to sleep. You’re gonna get too warm if you keep your jeans on.”

You reached out again, but this time he grabbed onto your wrists, keeping them away from him. “I don’t want--”

“Ei, stop. That’s not what I’m trying to--”

“No! I’m sure you’re a very, v-very nice person, but I really love my partner!”

“Ei, I AM your partner.”

He blinked up at you for a moment, then his face split into a brilliant grin. “Oh hey, babe! When did you get here?”

You had to fight not to laugh at his change of mood. If you did, he’d never agree to go to sleep.

“I’ve been here all night,” you said.

“Really? D’you know who runs this place? ‘Cos the service here is terrible. One of the staaffff won’t stop hitting on me even though I keep saying no.”

You pulled your hands out of his grip and reached for his belt again. “How awful. Let’s get you to bed.”

“I’d love to, babe, but I think I’m a teensy bit too drunk for that.”

You finally managed to pull his pants off. Straddling him, you set to work on the buttons of his dress shirt. He sat up and kissed you sloppily, one hand at the back of your head, the other kneading your behind. The rank taste of old alcohol filled your mouth.

“I thought you were too drunk for that,” you coughed when he finally let you breathe.

“Well… I can give it a try since you keep in-- insssh-- inshisishting.”

You pushed the dress shirt over his shoulders, leaving him in a white t-shirt. “I’d rather not. Just go to sleep already.”

“Only if you join me!” Wrapping strong arms around you, he let himself fall backwards with yet another giggle. He started pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses against your neck then abruptly stopped.

“Ei?”

You were met with a soft snore. Sighing once more, you shuffled around in his tight grip to turn off the lights and pull the covers over the two of you. He really was the worst, most endearing drunk.

When you got up the next morning, Eijirou was still fast asleep. As soon as you left the bed, he reached out for you. When he couldn’t find you, he instead grabbed your pillow, burrowing his face into it. You heard him mumbling something about a teapot battle.

Checking up on him an hour later, a bottle of water and painkillers in hand, you found him with your pillow thrown over his face. He shifted the pillow a smidge, glancing up at you with blurry, red-rimmed eyes.

“Could you tell the sun to shut up?” he wheezed, voice gravelly. “‘S too loud for me.”

#love letters from em #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #established relationships #tw: alcohol #fluff #spice #kirishima #eijirou #eijiro #x reader #x you #gn reader #drabble #drabbles

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getouyuri · 1 month ago

Note

Hi!! Sorry, this is long because I’m going to YAP- so be prepared!

The LORE your yakuza au has makes me so happy, you don’t know!!! Thank you for giving a timeline because it makes it so much easier to understand the time frame.

My jaw dropped when I saw that Kenjaku killed Kaori! He may have done it in cannon but this surprised me. And him being twins with Geto makes the fall out between them ten times more angsty!! The Geto fic is going to be soooo good, I can feel it now. Also we adopt the twins, I will cry 🥹

Gojo not wanting to wait to propose to Secretary!reader is so funny to me. He wanted to lock that DOWN. The early tension between him and Secretary!reader is going to be amazing.

Stripper!reader being a Zenin came out of left field but I like the idea of it. More people to watch as the Zenin clan burns to the ground. I can see Toji, Stripper!reader, Maki and Megumi sharing a bag of popcorn watching it crash and burn.

I actually love the Toji storyline btw, I am not a Toji fan but I will enjoy this Toji fic. I am a bit of a sucker for the hidden baby trope 🤭

On to my questions,

1. Are Yuji and Sukuna related in this au? I didn’t know if they were or not.

2. Will the Shibuya incident in this au be more like the one in the show or the actual one that happened in 1946?

3. Where does Yuta fit into the story? I may have missed when I was reading the time line and if so I am sorry!

4. Are we going to see some of the childhood shenanigans Geto, Gojo and Shoko got up to before they were pulled into the Yakuza?

Anyway! That was a lot, sorry for yapping so much but I didn’t want to put this long thing in the comments lol

I THOUGHT I HIT POST ON THIS AFTER FINISHING DRAFTING THIS ANSWER? HELLO? okay everything below is what I answered in reply to you like 2 weeks ago 😭😭

HAIIII BLUEEEEE 🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽 so happy ur asking about the yakuza au and that the timeline helps with some things raaahhh and I love that we can yap together about this mhm mhm 🙂‍↕️ ur giving me so much to talk about and I love it!! here’s the timeline for anyone curious as to what we’re referring to

having kenjaku kill kaori felt like a necessary evil cos of canon rip 💔 but it just fits in with the story really well and it’s not only his turning point but also oyabun geto’s point of realization where he’s like ‘oh. he’s beyond repair’ and finds out about the other stuff kenjaku’s done too ☹️😓 i imagine kaori was very sweet and highly intelligent so kenjaku was like 1. I can’t have any ‘weaknesses’ still attached to me and 2. she was too ambitious and clashed with his ideals as well. he is sickkkjwhrkdjw like fr my god… and just imagine how geto feels about that as well (devastated)

i’m SAUR excited to write the geto fic cos of the whole dynamic between him and kenjaku plussss for his progression w/ angels!reader 😁🚬 I actually just recently split some stuff apart and decided to add in a prologue SO u will be getting the first part sooner than i expected to post it 🧌… and them adopting nanamimi makes me sniffleeee neither geto nor angels!reader could just leave them there (i say as i’m still deciding between options as to where they found them…). also the irony of geto raising two twins when he and kenjaku are some fucked up ass twins is soooooohkgjsbfjd

OYABUN GOJO FR COULD NOT HOLD HIMSELF BACK WITH THAT PROPOSAL garuda’s angels assassin toji too 💀💀 but omfg gojo JUMPED to marry secretary!reader. just buying a ring had him mentally blowing a fuse 😭 I feel like any version of gojo, yakuza au or otherwise, is the type to marry fast when he knows that he’s truly found The One person for him.

and then in toji’s case his circumstances are a little special just cos he and goth!reader go wayyy back, they have megumi, toji having always liked goth!reader and vice versa… etc etc.! I won’t be writing a full longfic w/ multiple chapters for toji but I definitely wanna write different stages of his relationship with goth!reader 😁🙂‍↕️ pre-relationship when they’re fwb and after getting together

ALSO I SHOULD CLARIFY stripper!reader isn’t actually a zenin!! her family is really close with the zenin clan who runs the zenin-gumi. so whatever other organized crime group she may have come from is allied with the zenin-gumi ^_^ stripper!reader hates the zenin saurrrr bad though… understandably so. she and the other zenin haters could start a club

andddd here’s my answers to ur questions :3

1. nopeeee yuuji and sukuna aren’t related. I DIDDD consider adding that in but I thought about that insane ass family tree and I backed out of that ideaaaahrjdjqhhtkwje plus it just makes things more complicated story-wise yk?? cos then I’d have to figure out How they’re related, how that works out with kenjaku, i’d have to decide what to do with jin since he’s sukuna’s (deceased) twin but jin isn’t related to yuuji as his father, etc…

so they’re not related but, for humor reasons, they’ve definitely run into each other in passing at like. a store or something and yuuji and sukuna were both like ‘damn… that guy kinda looks like me. well anyways!’

2. it’s funny that u bring this up cos I was doing research on this not that long ago AND I HAD NO FUCKING CLUE THE ACTUAL SHIBUYA INCIDENT 1946 WAS A YAKUZA WAR??? when I found out I was like ?4&274&3 okay so this was meant to be ig… that’s when I decided that I did in fact want to semi include it

sooo the shibuya incident in the yakuza jjk au is a mix of the actual real life incident And the one that occurs in jjk (mostly the jjk one though). the similarities being Very Public fights between rival gangs (minus taiwan’s involvement ofc) and the injuries that the jjk characters got during that incident (maki’s burns, nanami’s burns and fucked up eye, etc.). and kenjaku’s goal was still to fuck up gojo; not trap but kill and/or severely injure by using sukuna. that plan failed obviously

3. yuuta my nephew 🥺🩵 no u didn’t miss anything!! admittedly I haven’t mentioned much about yuuta being next-in-line as the oyabun for the gojo-gumi on this blog 😭😭 so I’ll get into the Basics of that rn :3

he’s still gojo’s cousin in the yakuza jjk au. oyabun gojo basically swore that he’d never have a future partner (this was wayyy before secretary!reader) which meant no future heir & next-in-line. ofc the obvious option is having nanami go from wakagashira -> the next oyabun— but the gojo clan wanted to continue to consolidate power and keep a gojo in the oyabun position. which is where yuuta comes in

you can basically think of yuuta as the ‘second’ wakagashira alongside nanami, but yuuta isn’t the official wakagashira. he spends a lot of time handling business for oyabun gojo (arms deals, international trade & smuggling, making sure the gojo-gumi’s businesses that they control stay in line and pay up, etc), settling disputes, or shadowing gojo to further learn from him hands-on.

yuuta lives at the gojo estate with oyabun gojo, secretary!reader, some of the gojo clan elders, and trainees (i did some research on this and sometimes lower-ranked trainees would live in their oyabun’s house or the syndicate’s actual office headquarters for a couple of months-long training period… whiiiich is why oyabun gojo & secretary!reader split their time between the gojo estate and their own separate penthouse + sometimes their vacation homes 💀💀 they need space. Real bad)

4. YES I’M ABSOLUTELY INCLUDING CHILDHOOD SCENES WITH OYABUN GOJO OYABUN GETO AND INFORMANT SHOKO 👹👹👹👹 I have to I absolutely have to. their childhood days are smth I’ve been wanting to include more in writing… like flashbacks or just full-on little drabbles/oneshots from when they were kids

I especiallyyyy wanna include stuff from their high school days cos of everything that happens with riko & haibara o(-( and i wanna write stuff about teens oyabun gojo & secretary!reader going to hs together and being acquaintances/borderline friends

thank u for giving me the opportunity to yap right back at uuuuu I enjoyed answering these questions sm 🩵🩵

#yakuza jjk au #aisha’s answers #this essay I wrote omg

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spry-the-artist · 2 months ago

Text

Theory Time - Henry was originally going to be turned into Bendy

Alright, so that's a pretty heavy way to start a post. But let's get some context out of the way:

Preface

It's pretty commonly agreed upon that the plot of Bendy and the Ink Machine was heavily modified throughout the release of the chapters. Most notably, though, is that a lot of people, including me, think that the ending itself was changed during the long period between Chapter 4 and Chapter 5. This is commonly accepted to be because people had figured out the ending, but I will also make mention of some other things that could've contributed to this change.

Now, before we get onto the theory, I have to preface with this: This is not meant to be an attack or even a (heavy) criticism on the devs. I also don't think that what I will lay out is indisputable. This is a theory about what could've been the ending of BATIM, not me pretending to know what the devs thought.

I would also like to say that this will get long, and there aren't any images. There are subtitles to separate everything, but take a break if you need to! Conversation is welcomed under this post. Also, while I don't think there would be anyone who would do this, don't repost this theory on Twitter. There is a very different culture surrounding the Bendy franchise on there, and I don't wanna get eaten/silly.

That being said, onto the theory. This will be split into the proof for the theory and possible scenarios for Chapter 5.

Henry is the parallel to Bendy

Now, let's get this out of the way: Henry having an almost identical name to Bendy isn't proof of the theory being true, but it is proof that the characters are meant to resemble each other.

I would also like to add, before we go more in-depth, that Joey is definitely supposed to be a parallel of Boris (at least, in the shorts). In fact, him being so is what really proves Henry paralleling Bendy.

Minus Tombstone Picnic, Bendy is constantly seen as the victim of Boris in the shorts. Boris steals from him, makes him cry, all that stuff. But Bendy and he are still best friends. This is meant to represent Henry and Joey's friendship.

But the parallels between Henry and Bendy don't just end at his treatment in the cartoons, even though they present by far the strongest parallel. Bendy is constantly used throughout the studio and is clearly JDS's cash cow. Henry was/is barely acknowledged for all the hard work he did, yet also served a similar purpose of being Joey's cash cow. He did so much work, and his ideas and work made him a lot of money.

Now, this shows that Henry is meant to be reflective of Bendy. But that doesn't prove that the two characters would eventually merge. So, what's next?

Joey is Henry's foil

This by itself doesn't explain much, but we have to view this through the often theorized concept that Joey was originally going to be the Ink Demon before the Chapter 5 change. I won't be making a case for it here, but just know that it is essential to this theory.

Joey being the opposite of Henry is something that I think most people can agree upon. While Henry makes, Joey takes. While Henry is a (from what we see of him) kind and honest man, Joey is an uncaring and, very notably, dishonest man.

If Joey had indeed tried turning himself into Bendy and ended up as a failure, then the opposite of this would be Henry being forcibly turned into Bendy and being a success. And it also reflects each of them very well: Joey being a crooked man translates to him being a crooked Bendy. Henry being a good man translates to him being a good Bendy.

Henry also resembles Joey in that they both made Bendy (in different ways). So it would make a lot of thematic sense if their paths ended in the same way as they began: making Bendy (come to life). It would also show that their paths are meant to cross once more and merge in such a way that it wouldn't be possible for them to separate once more. Which brings me to my next point:

Why did Joey invite Henry?

It has been argued that Joey invited Henry to fix his messes. Which would make sense character-wise, but we don't see any direct hints of this until Chapter 5. Joey's goal throughout the game is to make his cartoons come to life.

With the similarities between Henry and Bendy (and since the other members of the studio have failed already), it would make sense for Joey to invite Henry to try to finally get his perfect Bendy. There doesn't seem to be anything else that would motivate Joey to invite Henry, since he's not shown as having any other goal other than to use the ink machine to create toons. Hell, we don't even know if he particularly regrets what he's done until Chapter 5, so he could've very well not learn his lesson.

We see that the Ink Demon has some amount of care for Henry. Most notably, this is when he kills the Projectionist. This could be interpreted as being territorial, but story-wise, the Ink Demon coming along coincidentally to kill the creature about to kill us feels cheap at best. Considering the fact that the Projectionist gets killed off seconds after he tries getting Henry, this wasn't exactly meant to scare the player.

This shows that the Ink Demon (in this theory's case, Joey) doesn't want Henry to die. It seems like he wants Henry to be alive for something in particular. Joey does still kill Henry, but these aren't canon deaths. It's full well possible that what Joey is actually doing when he catches up to Henry is bringing him directly to where he wants him to be, but since it's not canon that he does this, they simply just have the player go back and fix their mistake. This is also shown by the fact that the Ink Demon is specifically looking for Henry, which he has no stated purpose of doing so prior to the Chapter 5 reveal that he's scripted to do so.

Joey clearly wants Henry to go somewhere specific, deeper in the studio. He's the one who makes him fall, after all. So, him inviting Henry over would be related to going somewhere specific.

Malice's Behaviour Around Henry

Now we come to a piece of evidence that I haven't seen anyone else bring up. We will be basing the majority of this section on two lines:

"No, Henry! I know who you are! And I know why you're here! And you will not stop what needs to be done!" - Chapter 3, during the elevator crash

and

"I just wanted to be beautiful! Surely you can understand that. Henry... Why are you here? We're all dying to find out. " - Chapter 4, before Brute Boris

Both lines contain one point, and the Chapter 4 line contains another point I don't think I've ever seen used.

The first point is this: Malice knows why Henry is here, and she found this out through observing the studio. Malice is established as having eyes and ears all over the studio, which should equate to her being a character with plenty of knowledge. This aspect isn't used, and it's kinda noticeable. Which leads me to believe that these lines did used to have importance, but that got scrubbed.

Most importantly, though, she is mad at why he is here. There is nothing about Henry that is shown to be bad, and there is no bad blood shown between the two prior to the events of the game. She also specifically notes who he is. Now, while the "creator" is shown to be controversial in the studio, Malice very clearly knows that Henry is not the creator (Joey). But what she says implies that Henry has some amount of importance, and quite frankly, we don't see anything that proves why he would be important and why that would anger her. If all he was was the creator of the characters, there would be no reason for Malice to care. Nothing in-game shows that this is important in the context of the ink.

If Malice saw/heard Joey make plans to turn Henry into Bendy, then it would be believable that she would be mad at this. She's been trying for years to turn into a toon, and now this man who had left the studio decades ago was going to get that privilege? Plus, instead of just stealing Boris during the many tasks that made Henry leave, she waits to use a method that would kill Henry. She is specifically trying to stop him from being used, which would explain why she bothered doing the whole Brute Boris thing instead of just gutting the poor guy like all the others. It would also explain why she goes out to kill him instead of admitting defeat, since she's otherwise shown as wanting to stay on the sidelines and not directly getting involved (hence her needing a good reason to actually come out).

When Malice asks why Henry is here in Chapter 4, she is asking him why he bothered coming at all. She herself knows why he was brought here, but she's curious as to why Henry came. This doesn't add to the theory, but is rather a clarification.

The other point I have is, like I said, one I haven't seen used prior: Malice specifically makes a comment about appearances. This is not particularly bizarre for her until you realize specifically what she said: "I just wanted to be beautiful! Surely you can understand that. Henry..." She is specifically commenting on Henry being able to understand the need to be "beautiful", which translates to being a toon in this context

This could serve as excellent foreshadowing for her thinking that Henry might eventually understand her want for beauty. Whether it's because she thinks he'll become perfect and understand why she wanted it so much, or she thinks he'll fail and that he'll understand her yearning to be perfect, both work. Otherwise, this line falls (so i.e. did fall) pretty flat because we've been told a 100 times already that she wants to be beautiful. If it was just her trying to appeal to Henry's emotions, there could've been more convincing ways to do so, like "I don't have anything else left down here" or "My beauty was taken from me, I just want to get it back". Malice is a manipulative character who knows what she's doing.

Boris's role as Henry's friend.

This comes into the Henry parallels Bendy point, but it's not exactly a coincidence that Henry's only friend happens to be perfect Boris. Bendy and Boris are seen as friends in the shorts and other official media. (even with all their flaws). Now, this in of itself is not proof of the theory, but it does show something that could be:

Even without the knowledge given by future media, Boris very clearly is supposed to be almost 1:1 with Boris the toon (with some personality changes, but it's hard to tell if this was an inconsistency or intentional) which could translate into him wanting to be with Henry because he's heard about Henry being related to Bendy through the grapevine.

The much stronger point I have towards this section, though, is that since Henry essentially serves Bendy's role in their friendship (being the protector, doing things for Boris, being friends in general), it could make narrative sense to end up literally serving Bendy's role, especially since now that Boris is gone, someone has to fill the toon shoes, right?

Other Details

Thematically, Joey forcing Henry to be Bendy would parallel him having forced Henry into being a Bendy-cartoon-making machine.

Sammy, like how I theorized with Boris, might've heard about Henry's purpose through the grapevine (which is especially likely given how he and even the Searchers seem capable of travelling across the studio). Since he didn't directly hear this from Joey/The Ink Demon, he might've had Henry tied up to "give easier access" to his Lord. But, since doing so slowed down Henry getting to whatever location Joey wants him to be at, Joey might've killed Sammy for having wasted time. Or perhaps Joey wants to do everything himself and feels offended at having someone try and "make things easier" for him. We don't see why Joey would've killed Sammy otherwise, so this can serve as an explanation.

Less evidence for the theory, but more so that the idea existed to begin with: Wilson seems to have a very similar plot of turning Audrey into Shipahoy Dudley. This could possibly be a reference to the original plot and/or they changed it to a time loop for sequel/outside reasons, but still liked the original plot they had going on. This is more of an assumption than anything, but it does show that this idea is present in the series. (and also could explain why that segment felt a tad out of nowhere since it wouldn't have the same buildup as it's inspiration)

Predictions

Now that we've laid down evidence, I'm going to lay out my predictions on how this plot might've gone. These do step more into the fanfiction territory than actual theories, but it does use the ideas.

You may have noticed that Allison and Tom don't show up anywhere in this theory, and that's because they only show up for a very brief moment at the end of Chapter 4. I think their general characters would've remained the same, so I will be using that, but their roles here are mostly fanfiction.

Now, since BATIM is a first-person game, it's complicated to say how any of these endings would play out in the game itself, since this is such a visually heavy concept. But let's assume you'd at least get some glimpse of yourself.

Before the Climax

We can safely assume that Allison and Tom keeping Henry jailed stays the same. But this time, Henry actually convinces them to let him out because he's a human and still has a chance to get them out of there.

The original Sammy and Lost Ones fights will get cut out since they feel like they're only there to make Tom and Allison feel useful (Tom killing Sammy and them "helping" us defeat the Lost Ones) rather than have any plot relevance.

But Sammy still will make an appearance. This will be the first time we have any actual mention of Joey needing Henry. He will try to fight Allison and Tom so that he can get rid of any defences Henry might have against the Ink Demon. Henry helps fight off Sammy and probably some Lost Ones and Searchers. I know this is very similar to the original Lost One fight, but this time it has an actual purpose in-story (and lets Sammy be an actual threat and shows that he is indeed a cult leader)

I think Henry will end up falling while they try crossing the same way he did in Chapter 5 (it's not like they would scrap the entire plot between chapters, after all). Things are similar, but obviously, the tapes are different. Specifically, the Thousands Souls and Tom's tape about "life-size figures".

The first creature the machine makes would probably be more akin to a searcher or even a really bad Bendy. But, either way, it's not the Ink Demon. So, Tom's tape would be changed. But, not much because he still needs to mention that the creature(s) the machine is making are soulless. The tape would also probably contain a little bit more talk of Tom feeling weird about this for something I'll get to later.

The entire first part of Joey's tape would be cut out because whatever soulless creature the machine makes probably wouldn't be anything important (probably was killed immediately after). The only thing remaining of the first line would be that Joey is paying them for living attractions, not abominations. Now, since the act of using humans is very relevant in the game's plot (as in, what we do in the game itself), there would be a lot more emphasis on Joey wanting to use souls, specifically those of the "right" people. Maybe even slip in that "if not one of those souls work, even I'd be on the chopping block", or something to a similar effect to foreshadow the reveal of Joey being the Ink Demon.

The area Henry falls into would change since we're not doing the loop thing (so no repeating desks), and we want Allison and Tom to be able to follow Henry (so no lair surrounded by ink). It could remain as administration, but the surrounding area would be different.

I've been talking about a specific place that Joey wants to bring Henry for a while, and I think that it's probably the real Ink Machine. Kinda similar to the lair, but less dramatic. Mostly because it wouldn't be surrounded by knee-deep ink.

They would enter the lair all together, where the Ink Demon is sitting there being all dramatic or whatever. I think this version of the Ink Demon would probably be able to talk, but he could also use other methods like a bunch of cut-together audio logs (unlikely, but cool).

Tom being Thomas Connor is never really brought up in the story, which makes me think that it was originally going to be a bigger point. Hence, I think that Joey, during his monologue, reveals both their identities. Probably by asking Tom to help him for whatever reason: Old times sakes, Maybe Tom caused him to become the Ink Demon so Joey feels like he's in debt, etc.

Eventually, Joey actually reveals his plot. He would probably say something about how there's nowhere left to hide, and then drag Henry to throw him in the machine. This is when the paths split:

Prediction 1: Joey succeeds and gets a perfect Bendy

This is a horror game after all, so a bad ending is definitely in the cards. Since this is a "Joey succeeds" ending, you could go two paths: Either he gets what he wants at a steep cost, or he gets everything he wants (trades his humanity with Henry somehow, gets to leave with "Bendy", and do whatever he wanted to do with him).

I won't go too in-depth with the "everything" ending since there wouldn't be much to say, but Joey getting what he wants at a steep cost (like losing whatever humanity he had left) is the most likely path with this prediction. This would likely have Allison and Tom help beat the Ink Demon after he tries preventing Henry from leaving (because 3-foot nothing Henry sure won't do it alone), which seems to have been their initial purpose because they feel kinda useless otherwise.

This could end with Henry being able to reverse the effects of the machine and save everyone, but he might just have to settle for beating Joey. This would be depressing as hell, but it could end on a bittersweet note that he's helped/will help make the studio a better place.

Prediction 2: Joey suceeds but Henry isn't perfect

Henry might end up turning into a bigger monster than the Ink Demon or simply have something wrong with him (too humanoid, too wonky, whatever). Either way, this would enrage Joey. Henry turning into a bigger monster would probably entail having a mostly solo fight with the Ink Demon, and him simply being imperfect would once again lead to a trio fight. Joey might want to kill Henry to force him back into the puddles for "another try" (or simply because he's pissed).

Depending on how human Henry remains, this ending could end with them reversing the machine's effects or with Henry going out and just needing to hide his ink-stuff. Since this prediction isn't nearly as "villain wins" as the first, it wouldn't make as much sense to have that bittersweet ending.

Prediction 3: Shipahoy Wilson

As I mentioned prior, the plotline in BATDR could be referencing the original plot of BATIM, so them being similar could also work (even if this is my personal least favourite option).

Joey would fall into the machine instead of Henry and become something like Beast Bendy or some other bigger threat. As usual, this would be a trio fight.

Where we go after the climax would definitely be happy. Since BATIM isn't a fighting game, the way they'd beat Joey would probably involve reversing the effects of the Ink Machine and either leaving now-human Joey to rot or doing something to him (bringing him to jail, killing him, whatever).

Conclusion

So, after all this, can I say that I'm 100% right? Obviously not, I can acknowledge that there are some holes in the theory and that, to be honest, a lot of things that I say fall flat in the game could just be because the game has somewhat bad writing rather than these moments having led up to something that never came to be.

And, obviously, as I said before, the prediction section was mostly fanfiction with some theorizing (like me wondering if the Sammy fight might've had a bigger role initially), so it should be taken with the smallest grain of salt.

But, to be honest, I can't really see many other endings in the cards. Like I said at the beginning, the time loop ending clearly feels like something they added to Chapter 5 after figuring, for whatever reason, that the original ending (could be this one, could be others (though, I really can't think of anything else that has clues throughout the other chapters, if I'm being honest) couldn't work.

I've speculated that it could be because they wanted to make sequels and felt like the ending they were gonna go with didn't leave much room for future games. This could certainly explain why Chapter 5's ending feels so rushed and inconclusive.

That being said, I hope you enjoyed this long post, and I'm ever so grateful that y'all have stuck around for 3749 words.

#batim #tagging characters that have heavy presence in the theory #henry stein #batim bendy #joey drew #alice angel #twisted alice #susie campbell #batim theory

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