#like I guess you could argue it could have all been built up to better but like. that describes the whole show lol. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

floralcyanide · 3 months ago

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⊹ when in copenhagen

request: a basic one to start! shower sex with carmy? in which you and Carmy argue your way into showering together.

↝ pairing: Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Fem!Reader

↝ warnings: spoilers for The Bear (kinda?), smut (mdni!), unprotected sex, penetrative sex, brief nipple play, fingering, arguing (a lot), shower sex

↝ word count: 2k

↝ author's note: finally watched The Bear!! so guess what that means lol (I hope you all enjoy this!! I didn't edit lowkey but oh well)

masterlist ⋇ divider credit: @cafekitsune

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

There’s not a lot of room on this boat.

It’s your first thought as you take time to tour where you’ll be residing for a while. You’re in Copenhagen, Denmark, for some cooking lessons, but not alone. You’re with your fellow chef and another student of Andrea Terry’s, Carmen Berzatto. You aren’t quite sure why Chef Terry sent both of you here simultaneously, but you have a few ideas. One of them is that the two of you solve the weird tension you have going on while you’re here. The other is to obviously kill two birds with one stone and send more than one chef to learn new ways to create. But the first idea seemed the most likely. The houseboat where you and Carmen, or Carmy, as he preferred to be called, are going to stay for the foreseeable future is fairly dinky and barely has room for two beds. One of them is technically the couch that pulls out into a full-size bed. You and Carmy will probably argue over who gets which bed. The two of you argue a lot over just about everything. Chef Terry is probably ecstatic that she gets a break from it for a while.

It isn’t long before a disagreement on who gets to shower first begins. There’s also a side banter on who is making dinner or whether or not you’re ordering in and who is doing the ordering. It’s sort of your dynamic to never agree on anything, ever. You wish you had taken this trip separately, but of course, Chef Terry had to deal you a bad hand. Enriching your palettes is one thing, but your stress levels are another. You can’t see the tension between the two of you resolving any time soon, so you fear this supposed adventure isn’t going to be as enjoyable as you thought.

In a moment of pressed anger, a sarcastic comment leaves your lips, “We could always just shower together and shut the fuck up about it.”

“That’s actually not a bad idea,” Carmy rubs his chin before turning around and grabbing two towels from the linen closet.

“What?” you laugh incredulously, “You can’t be serious right now.”

“Look,” Carmy rolls his eyes, “It’s better than standing here arguing all fucking night, is it not?”

You cross your arms and stifle a pout, much like a child, but meet Carmy’s eyes reluctantly, “Fine. Just don’t look at me while I shower.”

“That’s going to be a little difficult since we’re going to be right next to each other, but I won’t have to try very hard anyway,” Carmy rolls his eyes.

You’re slightly offended by his comment but recover enough to follow him to the bathroom without responding. Carmy pulls off his shirt before turning on the shower and tossing it onto the floor. You do the same as the two of you quickly undress, avoiding each other’s gaze. You frown at the somewhat weak stream of water coming from the shower and dare to glance at Carmy’s bare back. You aren’t blind by any means; Carmy is attractive as hell. He’s built quite nicely in a physical manner and has flattering features. Plus, you can’t help but be attracted to how quickly he can match your attitude. So, keeping your eyes averted from Carmy’s naked, sculpted body is a little difficult on your end. But it doesn’t seem hard at all for your fellow traveler to avoid staring, as you had asked him to. It’s a little disappointing, but at least you finally get to wash off the stale sweat you’ve been sporting for hours. The shower stall is small but spacious enough to some degree for two people to fit.

Once both of you find yourselves under the water, Carmy wastes no time scrubbing himself with the soap he brought with him. You do the same, keeping your eyes to yourself and trying not to accidentally nudge him with your elbow. The two of you struggle to rinse off without nearly slipping or bumping into each other.

“How about one of us washes first and rinses, and the other one goes next?” Carmy turns to you, sighing in frustration.

“Who goes first, then?” you raise an eyebrow, expecting to argue some more.

“You can, by all means,” Carmy offers, and your jaw almost drops.

You furrow your brow at him, “And what do I owe you for this lack of fussing?”

“Nothing,” he shrugs innocently.

The reality is that Carmy just wants to watch you. Not in a creepy way, or maybe it is sort of creepy, but he thinks you’re attractive, too. The no-watching rule doesn’t count if you aren't caught, right? Carmy just needs to be slick about it. You hesitantly take up the offer to fully wash first, squirting some shampoo into your palm before lathering it into your hair.

“If you need me to get your back, just let me know, sweetheart,” Carmy offers jokingly.

You snort, “I will. Thanks.”

You manage to wash and condition your hair in peace, unknowingly having the burning blue eyes of Carmy on you. When it’s time to wash everywhere else, you take Carmy up on his offer just to see his reaction. You turn around to face him, his gaze quickly averting away.

“Actually, if you could get my back, I’d greatly appreciate it, Carm,” you smile cheekily, offering him your loofah.

“Oh,” he says, “I didn’t think you’d actually take me up on it,” he scoffs, taking the loofah from you.

“Stranger things have happened,” you shrug.

“Hmm. Really?” Carmy starts to gently scrub your back, “Like what?”

“Us showering together is literally one of those things,” you say plainly.

“No need for sass,” Carmy leans into your ear, “We were doing just fine there for a minute.”

You fight back a shiver at Carmy’s closeness, “You’re right. I’ll be quiet now. Keep scrubbing.”

Carmy switches the loofah for his hand, spreading the suds around with his palm, massaging your tense shoulders. You let out a small sigh at the feeling of yourself relaxing for the first time today. Carmy snakes his arm around you, handing you the loofah back.

“Who said for you to stop?” you turn your head around at him, and you’re met with his eyes being darker than usual.

“I could keep going, but uh,” Carmy clears his throat, “I can’t promise I’ll stop.”

“Why’s that?” you ask curiously, borderline teasing.

“Don’t trek into dangerous territory,” Carmy warns.

You turn to fully face him, “I know your comment earlier wasn’t true. About you not having to try hard not to stare.”

“How so?”

“You stare at me all the time. Don’t think I don’t notice it, Berzatto,” you smirk.

Carmy runs a hand through his wet hair, wondering if he should be so bold to respond with what he wants to. Instead, he takes you by surprise and grabs a hold of your hips, his thumbs bruisingly pressing into the fat of them.

“I told you not to trek,” Carmy mutters, his eyes serious but darkening more by the second.

“What if I want to?” you say, testing just how far Carmy would go.

One of his hands wraps around the back of your neck, bringing you close to his face so he can crash his lips onto yours. You find yourself kissing back, your fingers tangling into Carmy’s hair at the nape of his neck. He pushes you against the shower wall, his one hand still holding you by your hip. Carmy slips his tongue inside your mouth, taking more control of the embrace. He takes a moment to run both hands along your sides, pulling your body closer to his. You feel him hard against your stomach.

“Need some help, Berzatto?” you pull away from the kiss, glancing down at Carmy’s length at attention against his toned abdomen, “I’m already trekking far enough, so why not?”

“Only if you let me make dinner after this,” Carmy says.

“Deal,” you shrug.

You reach between your bodies and begin stroking Carmy slowly, to which he lets out a breathy moan. He has thought about this moment far too many times- you grasping him and getting him off. Carmy thrives off your anger toward him, and you thrive off of his, too. It only seems plausible it’d end up like this.

Carmy daringly grasps one of your breasts as you pump your hand along his shaft at a quicker pace, squeezing you and teasing your nipple with his thumb. You hum at the feeling, spreading around the precum on his tip. Carmy’s hand moves from your chest down your stomach and to your heat, where he cups it, hesitant to go any further without permission.

“Don’t get scared on me now,” you look him in the eyes, “I expect something out of this, too. So go ahead.”

Carmy wastes no time dipping a finger into you, wanting to make a dig at you for being so wet already just from touching him, but he refrains. Instead, he adds another finger, using the heel of his hand to press against your clit. He thrusts his fingers inside you, finding a spot that causes you to grip him harshly in response.

“Keep doing that, and we’ll have to fuck,” you whine.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” Carmy says, his free hand now carding through your hair, his fingernails grazing your scalp.

You pull Carmy’s fingers from you, replacing them with the head of his cock, “Take this as a promise and not a threat, then.”

Carmy drags himself along your slit before guiding himself inside your entrance, wincing at how tight you are as inch by inch is taken by your needy cunt. Once he’s fully inside you, Carmy boxes you in with his arms, pressing them to the shower wall on either side of your head. You wrap a leg around his waist and brace your hands on his chest as he starts thrusting. Carmy’s eyes bore into yours, drinking in your sounds and facial expressions with every jerk of his hips. You move an inch forward to capture his lips into a heated kiss, moving your body along with every movement of his. You moan pitifully into Carmy’s mouth as he hits a spot inside you that makes stars appear behind your eyelids.

“Do that again,” you say weakly, and Carmy repeats the action except a little harder this time.

“Taking my cock so well that you can’t argue about it, can you?” Carmy says in your ear, “Now I know how to shut you up.”

“I’ll do whatever you want if you keep fucking me like this,” you throw your head back against the wall, your back pressed flush to it as Carmy fucks into you as fast as his hips allow.

“I’ll take you up on that, sweetheart,” Carmy smirks, nibbling your ear playfully.

You feel the familiar tightness in your belly growing, “I’m close.”

Carmy sneaks a hand between you and strokes your clit with his fingers, urging you to cum. You teeter closer to the edge as he presses his fingertips harder on the bundle of nerves, rubbing tight circles. With one particularly angled thrust, you orgasm hard around Carmy, your walls clenching his length pitifully. The feeling of you coming undone then triggers his release, and he fills you up to the brim with a low, guttural moan. The water has since turned cold, and once you unwrap yourself from Carmy, you immediately turn the shower off.

“How about that dinner, Carm?”

Carmy is busy catching his breath but replies, “Sure thing. Just don’t argue about what I’m making, and we’ll be fine.”

You grab your towel, “You make it sound like I argue about everything, which isn't true. Sometimes, it’s you who wants to whine and complain.”

Carmy purses his lips at you, smacking your ass with his towel, “Just be grateful I fucked you and am also making you dinner.”

Once bedtime arrives, the two of you decide not to fight over who gets which bed and opt to share the main one. It’s better than making a fuss. Plus, falling asleep with Carmy’s arms around you was worth all the pent-up tension you had dealt with for so long.

#carmen berzatto #carmen carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader smut #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader smut #carmen carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto smut #carmen carmy berzatto x reader smut #carmy berzatto smut #the bear fanfiction #the bear fx #the bear #floralcyanide writes

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miraclesabound · 1 year ago

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My Hero

Summary: Luca helps Reader feel better after her date at his restaurant goes to shit.

Pairing: Luca/F!Plus Size!Reader, pre-relationship

Notes: I've been pondering this story for several weeks, and now I'm finally getting it down on paper.

Warnings: Date gone wrong, canon-typical language, self-esteem issues, mention of dirty thoughts, food and dessert descriptions, tiny bit of food kink?, past fat-shaming, still fluffy with a happy ending (mention of future relationship)

Tags: @pettyprocrastination @cinewhore @nolita-fairytale @phoenixhalliwell @grogusmum

"Chef, we have a problem at Table 5."

Luca sighs when Petra tells him this - she's his most trusted waitress, and she can usually handle anything on the floor. "What kind of problem?" he asks.

"The woman's date snuck out on her, and he stuck her with the check." Petra points out into the restaurant space, and Luca sees the patron in question. She's plump and pretty, but the way she's hunched over her table, Luca can tell how upset she is.

"Was the guy acting weird?"

Petra shrugs. "I mean, he was a little under-dressed, and he'd been twitchy. I guess he was looking for his opportunity to dash - he mentioned needing the bathroom, then he disappeared. That said, the lady has been lovely; I just hope this doesn't sour her on this place for good."

"Okay..." Luca ponders a minute, and then he takes his apron off. Calling to his staff, he says, "Chefs, I'll be right back, keep it moving!"

"Yes chef!" "Heard, chef!" Luca smiles to himself; he's always known his team is dependable.

When Petra comes back to check on you, she's not alone - she's accompanied by a striking man with dark blond hair and an attractive lift to his eyebrows.

"Petra, is this the manager?" you ask. "I'm good for the check, I wasn't trying to angle for a discount."

Petra shakes her head. "No ma'am - this is Chef Luca, our head of pastries. He just wanted to chat with you and see how you were doing." She pats your shoulder and takes her leave.

"May I sit?" Luca asks.

"Sure," you say. FUCK, he's cute - up close, you can tell that his nose and jaw could cut glass.

He sits across from you, and his expression is sympathetic. "Petra told me the basics - are you ok?"

"Well, like I said, I'm good for the check - but mostly, I feel stupid," you admit. "All the warning signs were there that this was a set-up."

"Oh?"

"Yeah - I'd known Oliver for five years, and he'd never gone out with anyone who....who's built like me - and then suddenly he says, "Oh, let's go to this great place I heard about, but can you put the reservation under your name?" We get here and Petra asks us about splitting the check - he says there's no need, it'll be just one check, and when I thank him, he says, "No, thank you for coming out." "

You pause, and then you groan in annoyance. "Shit, I bet he heard about me getting my inheritance from my aunt; that's why he knew I could afford this place."

Luca winces - he's heard of some cowardly shit in his time, but this is ridiculous. "That's the worst; I'm sorry."

"Not your fault, but thank you," you say. "Petra was great and it's sweet of you to check in." You pull out your purse. "I'll pay up and be on my way."

"Actually, do you have to go just yet?" Luca asks. "If you're not in a hurry, I was wondering if you could do me a favor."

Your mind briefly goes to a dirty place, but thankfully it doesn't show on your face. You put your purse back down and look at him questioningly. "What kind of favor?"

"I have a new dessert I'm working on, but I don't think it's quite right yet. Want to try a few samples and tell me what you think?"

That's not what you were expecting, but you won't argue with a handsome man presenting you with handmade delicacies either. You nod, and Luca signals Petra to the kitchen to get a tray together.

Petra returns with a plate full of different variations on the same dessert, along with a glass of sparkling water for a palate cleanser. Your eyes go wide - there must be a dozen different versions of this miniature treat in front of you. Each piece is unique, either by stacking order or by ingredient proportions.

"You don't mind me eating in front of you?" you ask Luca. Unfortunately, you've had it happen once where someone made oinking noises while you ate, and you've never quite lived it down.

"I wouldn't be in this business if I did," he reassures you.

"Ok, that's fair." Looking down at your platter, you decide to start from the left top corner and work your way down each column. It's hard not to notice Luca's eyes on you as you go through, but you figure he's just gauging your reactions.

It's all absolutely delicious, but there are samples that particularly stand out. When you're done, you have your answer. "Keeping in mind that I am the opposite of a professional at this sort of thing," you say, "I think if you took the stacking order of the third one - plum then chocolate then cookie - but then used the proportions of the seventh one where it's heavier on the chocolate than the other ingredients ... I think you'd have a winner."

Luca breaks out into a smile that makes your heart flutter. "I can see that," he agrees. "I'll test a full size version - and maybe you'd like to come back and try it tomorrow?"

"...Chef, are you asking for a food taster or for something else?" After the stunt Oliver pulled on you, you don't want any confusion.

"Well, let me put it this way," Luca says, helping you to your feet and hooking your purse over your shoulder. "If you were to come back tomorrow...there would be dinner before the new dessert premieres - if you're up for that?" He's still holding onto the strap of your bag, and it means you're looking right in his eyes.

"I am," you tell him with a smile. "And even if there weren't dinner, I'd still owe you for saving my night, so...yes. I'll be back tomorrow."

Years later, you and Luca still can't agree which of those nights actually counts as your first date. If someone were to ask Luca, he says it was the first night when you tried his desserts. If that same person were to ask you, you would say the dinner the next night was the change because that's when you had your first kiss.

Petra, who's no stranger to these conversations after all these years, keeps her opinions to herself - but in her mind, you're both off the mark. From what she could tell, Luca was yours as soon as he'd looked at you.

#luca the bear #chef luca x reader #luca x reader

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mostlylurkinbarelypostin · 1 year ago

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Hot take: S3 Dustin sucked just as bad as S3 Mike and Lucas.

I’ve always found it kinda odd when people paint Dustin as some perfect friend in S3. The entire reason that Dustin was with Steve the whole season was because he was mad at all his friends for supposedly “ditching” him the night before at Weathertop. That’s why he goes to Steve instead of them after hearing the Russian transmission. He lies to Steve and says that all his friends ditched him, which, of course, made Steve feel bad for him. He then tells Steve “They’re gonna regret it though, big time, when they don’t get to share in my glory”.

Like come on. Tell me that boy wasn’t being SO petty. He was so confident that he was gonna be an “American hero” after hearing that Russian transmission and yet he wasn’t gonna share an ounce of that glory with his friends because it was late and they were probably tired of listening to him try and call Suzie for literal hours. That’s no exaggeration. When Mike and El leave the rest of the group on the hill, Dustin looks at his watch and says “curfew at 4?”. By the time Will, Max, and Lucas finally leave, it’s dark out and Will even says “it’s late”. They spent all afternoon up there.

So at that point, the group had surprised Dustin when he got home, helped him lug all the radio parts up the hill, built the radio, and then sat for hours while Dustin tried to contact Suzie… but apparently that wasn’t enough for him? Dustin still said that they ditched him, which like yes Mike and El did, but that was unfair to say about the others.

Robin actually says something interesting in the last episode that always stuck out to me. It’s when they’re driving to weathertop and she says “Suzie must be pretty special, huh? I mean if you built this thing and lugged it all the way to the middle of nowhere just to talk to her?” Interesting choice of words considering we were explicitly shown how Dustin didn’t do all that by himself, and how his friends helped him both carry the parts to the top of the hill and assemble the thing. This makes the implication something like “Your friends must be really special, huh? If they helped you lug this thing all the way to the middle of nowhere and build it, just so you could talk to your girlfriend?”

They also weren’t even confident that Suzie even existed at that point, but they helped him anyways. They did it because they love him. So with all that being said, kinda fucked up of him to say what he did to Steve and paint them as terrible friends.

It’s even worse when you look at Will specifically. I’ve heard some people say that Dustin would have totally played DND with Will if he was with The Party the whole season instead of Steve. However, that’s simply not true. Will was the last to leave Dustin on the hill and before he left he asked if they could maybe play DND (“or something fun”) tomorrow. It was a direct invitation to hangout again tomorrow but all Dustin gave him back was a self pitying little “Yeah, maybe.”

He doesn’t hangout with Will the next day.

So Will spent all day doing what Dustin wanted to do, but just like with Mike and Lucas, he couldn’t get the same in return. Even with an invitation to hangout again tomorrow, Dustin still clumped Will in with his other friends who he says ditched him, which makes it kind of hypocritical that Dustin doesn’t show up for Will the next day.

So no, Dustin wouldn’t have played DND with Will if he was around cause he was actively and knowingly choosing not to do that by going to the mall to see Steve. He could have been playing DND with Will if he wanted to. The offer was on the table. He didn’t take it though. He wanted to be petty instead.

So I guess what I’m trying to say is that Dustin was no better of a friend to Will in S3 than Lucas or Mike was. One could even argue that he was worse than them.

Obviously I have no real beef with these made-up children, but I just think some might have missed this part of the story cause Dustin is not the perfect angel character that some see him as 😅

#stranger things #byler #dustin henderson #will byers #No one was being their best self in S3 #I think that was kinda the point #It was a transition season #Now we get to see how they better themselves

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missyasf · 2 years ago

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Game Of Hearts

| 5 |

↳ Summary: Your life is in monotonous tones of grey, day in, day out. Nothing matters besides your sister, the only thing you remember is seeing fireworks before waking up to Tokyo abandoned . Soon enough you are properly introduced to the deadly Borderlands where you must fight for your life in Games to survive. When things can’t possibly get worse soon division arises and rivalries are made. No matter what though, you are constantly plagued by a blonde who, no matter how hard you try, just can’t seem to go too far without.

↳ Pairing: Chishiya/Reader

↳ Genre: Angst, smut, thriller

Word Count: 9k

Previous | Next

Trigger Warning: ⚠️ much like the manga/Netflix adaptation this will be a dark fic which includes mentions of prostitution, attempted murder, child ab*se, sexual harassment, heavy grief and attempted suic*de among other things. Additional warnings will be added for chapters when triggers are brought up. Please read with caution if these are triggers for you or just skip all together!

Note: guess who's back bitches??? it only took a year and season 2 coming out for me to come back but here I am with chapter 5! please leave some comments and tell me how yall feel about the chapter! Shits about to go down in chapter 6

……

You couldn’t quite remember everything that happened, one moment you were facing the sky’s bright hue and for a moment you wondered if your soul was ascending. What you noticed however was a lack thereof, when it came to ascension at least. Then you became aware that you very much were not going up, but falling down.

And falling and falling. The only thing you could think about however was Nanami, your dad, your mother....The empty bottle of pills, the write up of OD even though everyone knew it was suicide. Was this what everyone meant by life flashing before your eyes.

You couldn’t think as your stomach did waves as your body bounced harshly, your gaze now upside down and feeling admittedly nausea at the sight of the unruly ocean beneath you. Oh...oh god…you were alive. Your body hung as you heaving a breath, closing your eyes before they ripped open. Oh god the game! The game! They probably didn’t have much time. You frantically tried to pull yourself up, but again, you hadn’t exactly been fit.

Suddenly you heard the sound of metal clashing and you could hardly realize you were not falling once more until your body crashed into the water, salt burning your eyes and water entering your lungs as you fought to reach the surface for air, the water was fairly calm given but it was difficult to keep your head up as you pushed yourself to the ground at the front of the bridge. Your limbs ached and you could still feel the scorch of the flames licking at your skin as frustration filtered your body, why couldn’t you swim faster!?

Every muscle in your body ached and the adrenaline you felt had left you, leaving your body feeling heavier and heavier until you reached the prickly green grass that you on any other day would have complained about.

Laying against the ground you collapsed as you closed your eyes, god being alive sucked. But you weren’t going to die in this godforsaken place. Your fingers curled against the ground as you forced yourself to crawl up the hill, slowly pushing yourself to stand up, as you groaned, rubbing your hand against your head before fumbling a little with your footing. The hill was admittedly steep and your sneakers weren’ exactly built for walking.

After a certain amount of struggle you had made it to the top, your legs aching and trembling and your body felt sluggish. They better disarm that last car…You took a seat on top of the table that had the screen set put on, looking at the gate that had closed the bridge down.

You could only imagine the chaos of arguing between the other three right now as you dimly squeezed the water from your shirt, spitting out what saliva you had at the sharp taste of salt. Everything hurt and you really just wanted to lay down. You jumped at the sound of a sirening setting before you leaned back on the table enough to see the table once more.

Game Cleared

You didn’t have any doubts but still...it was good to know they didn’t lose their shit after hearing an explosion, you expected nothing less. The gates slowly slid back open and you could see two distinct figures.

“Well shit, she actually survived!” Kuina whistled out a snarky grin on her face as she jogged over to your battered figure, looking extremely tired and also in pain for that matter, “Damn, you look busted though.”

You looked between them both, Chishiya looked nonpulse but there was something about his demeanor, you weren’t sure what, and you weren’t sure if you’d go out of your way to say he looked relieved but...Maybe that was it?

“I’m staying with Chishiya next time.” You sighed and much to your distaste Chishiya had that snide, smug smile curl on is face as if he totally enjoyed watching you admit that, “Stop looking like that, it’s annoying.” Your lips were pouty and you glared down at him before you heard something pop.

Jumping a little your eyes flashed to the disc holder of the laptop which had popped open, scoffing you leaned down, grabbing the playing card. They had anticipated someone doing that drop, obviously, “Can we go? I think I have whiplash in my neck.” You whined as you rubbed the back of your neck which dully ached.

Chishiya rolled his eyes, “Then stop being useless and sitting around.” He swung the keys on his finger as he walked back to the car, Kuina’s gaze had flashed between you both, taken aback at the car being started as you offered a lucrative smile.

“You should really check out the Beach sometime. I think you’d be a really good fit. See you around Kuina.” You waved her off who probably had plenty of questions as you got into the car.

Collapsing as you closed your eyes, “I think…” You paused, making Chishiya look at you briefly, “I’m gonna relax on games. I don’t need to play anyways.” You had never not once in your life, thought bungee jumping, would in any way, shape or form, be cool. And honestly, you felt like every ounce of energy had been sucked out of your body.

“You’ll need too,” Chishiya snorted making you frown as you looked at him, his eyebrow lifting a little before he rolled his eyes, “You look like shit.”

“Thanks.” You laid back in your seat, closing your eyes. You were alive...somehow…

Staring in the mirror you winced, damn he wasn’t kidding, the whole side of your neck had been burned, it wasn’t too severe but it was going to be a pain in the ass to try and sleep against.

Your nose wrinkled as you winced once more, biting down on your lip harshly at the attempt to put the cool cloth against the burn, there was a few burns scattered across your body as well, one of your forearm from where you had presumably protected your face from the blast and one against your shin which was the most painful.

“They already have three other five of spades. Another card gone to waste.” You rolled your eyes at the sing-song tone of Chishiya who made no effort in announcing his entrance into the bathroom, his hands stuffed into his pockets as he leaned the wall.

“Yeah well, I’m not exactly surprised. It’s been crossed out on the wall since before we even got here.” You winced again, your nose crinkling a little at the initial pain that throbbed as you pressed the wet rag back against your neck, the heat temporarily being absorbed, “What are they even missing besides heart cards?”

Chishiya didn’t reply, making you turn to look at him, his eyes were narrowed on your neck- your hand to be precise as you frowned, “What…?” Feeling only a tad under the microscope by him as he still didn’t speak.

Finally he sighed as if he was both exasperated and annoyed, “You’re going to irritate the burn even more using cloth, once all the liquid is dried from the rag it’ll just stick to your skin,” He scoffed suddenly pulling the rag off your neck making you whine, the immediate burn returning as you let out a squeak in pain, “They’re only missing high value cards and a few offshoot of low cards.” Chishiya spoke as his eyes narrowed around the room, “Makes you wonder what they do with all the spare decks though hm?” Your eyes followed his figure, why was he letting his words linger like that...it made it sound like he was plotting something and the last thing you wanted was a bullet in your head for conspiracy, “Not really…?” You tilted your head a little, “I mean, Hiroko mentioned they’re collecting other decks for the next in line and so forth, so once Hatter goes everything just gets easier.”

“You actually believe that bullshit?” Chishiya scoffed, looking almost offended at you as you lifted your chin, a snarky smile on your face as you shook your head.

“Do I look like I believe it?” It was quiet as Chishiya snatched something off one of the shelves you hadn’t bothered to look in though it admittedly looked like it held a first aid of sorts, huffing you sighed looking back in the mirror as you tilted your head a little to look at the large burn, “I mean, what choice do we have Chi? Seriously, you know just as well as I do it’s all bullshit here just under the guise of hope to keep everyone going for Hatter’s gain. Anyone with a functioning brain knows that, we all know that.”

That was right, anyone who didn’t know that was either truly naive or simply chose to be ignorant, the only problem was any discussion of the truth would be labeled as conspiracy and possibly killed. Nobody wanted that in the end.

Your eyes lingered on the door that was closed, but well aware there wasn’t a lock, anyone could walk in at any time. But surely everyone thought the same as you, right? “But that’s how things work here, and I mean, it’s a trade off.”

Chishiya appeared in the mirror, his eyes lifeless as ever as he spoke, “...Don’t call me that again,” You snorted at the way his nose wrinkled, “And not necessarily.” His words made you twist around, looking up at him in confusion, what did he mean, not necessarily…? He puffed a breath, for a brief second almost looking amused at your bewilderment as he spoke, “Things are changing, we’re gaining a higher rank with each game,” He shrugged cryptically a certain smug look on his face, “I have plans to make use of this place.”

Your expression twisted a little warily as you turned back to face the mirror, “Well I’m sure you do, otherwise you wouldn’t be here and you wouldn’t have come with us if you didn’t see some sort of benefit.”

If you had learned anything about Chishiya in your time together, it would be that he didn’t put any effort into anything he thought wouldn’t be beneficial to him. You had never pointed this out to him mainly because you thought it was best he assumed you didn’t know this. Or maybe he did? There wasn't any reason to overthink things now, especially if Chishiya wasn’t your enemy.

You often found yourself walking a delicate line when it came to Chishiya, because he was very unsuspecting to many people, and in some ways, you assumed he did this on purpose, he was a master at disguising his intentions with people.

You didn’t want to be a piece just in the grand scheme of things...You looked in the mirror as you watched him carefully pour a gel onto a cotton round. Why…? Perhaps because, if this was a game, you were too prideful to be a loser.

And Chishiya using you would be a game over.

“If not for gain then everything else would be a waste of resources and energy.” Chishiya finally spoke, that look on his face which meant he was definitely planning something and you knew it would only be a matter of time before he set things into motion, whatever it was he had in mind.

You said no more, allowing him to carefully tend to the large burn on your neck as you thought about his words, it was true, not many people volunteered to do games nightly, or even weekly unless it was needed for them to keep staying in the Borderlands.

It was few and far in between such as yourself that did them as often you did, Chishiya carefully placed a gauze barrier on your neck as he tutted, “Now don’t go ripping this off otherwise it’ll tear at the layer of protection your skin will make to keep any bacteria out. Oh...by the way, Mira was asking for you.”

You blinked several times rapidly before twisting around at such a drastic change in topic, “...Mira…? Like Kano Mira? Number 9?” You tilted your head a little, you had seen all of the council members yes but you hadn’t met let alone talked to any of them.

Mira, was by rumor, a hearts player despite having little to no hearts still on the wall, a few had appeared here and there but a lot had yet to be gained, or those who went out and never came back, experienced games as such, but didn’t win.

Chishiya raised a brow but said nothing, as if in silent ask, just as clueless as you were, “She passed by in the hall and asked me to mention she wanted to see you.” You could tell he was waiting for an explanation you didn’t have.

“I’ve never even talked to her before.” You frowned a little as you shrugged, “If you’re looking for an answer, then I don’t know. Where would she be? Up in the meeting room or wherever the top ten go to brood?” You expression twisted as you quirked a brow.

Chishia hummed, “She said she’d be getting tea.” Why did this woman sound so weird? You couldn’t shake the vague feeling you had as you shrugged, your interest now piqued to see what one of the top ten wanted with you.

After Chishiya had tended to the rest of your burns he didn’t linger for long and you had settled to find Mira wherever she was at now curious as to why she wanted to speak to you. The top ten kept to themselves at the Beach or brooded together on occasion whenever something called for it. It was rare to see them actually mingling with the masses aside from Hatter who was almost always seen prowling around with women and Aguni who was always brooding with the militant sect.

Wandering through the halls your thoughts buzzed as you looked around, getting tea...the only place you could assume was the kitchen but you weren’t surprised that not only was she not there but you were kicked out due to a restock in alcohol and some assuming you were a user looking to get first dibs. Which you were not but understood well enough, not giving them any grief over finding Mira you left without a fight.

Walking through the dining room you paid no mind to the few people who were quietly eating, this was by far one of the calmest rooms in the Beach and that was during the day, during the night however nearly everything was used for a party room, “Y/n! I’m so happy you made it!” You jumped at the fairy-like voice that called out to you, whirling around you turned only to be met with the very woman you had been looking for.

Kano Mira.

You had seen her around few and far in between but she always seemed ethereal with layers of long black hair and delicate lace dresses, sometimes even carrying a parasol on warm days when she took strolls. Come to think of it, that was where you had seen her, you had been going on a run when you had seen her stray from the walking path to water what looked to be flowers. You had never talked to her before but you had made eye contact a few times, and maybe that was what had piqued her interest in the first place. Deciding to not jump to conclusions you offered a weak smile as you walked closer to the table she sat at, a teacup and saucer in hand, “I was told you were asking for me?”

Mira’s smile widened only a little as she softly waved a hand for you to sit across from her, a teacup placed on the opposite side of the table as if she had anticipated you finding her, taking a seat you shuffled a little feeling mildly uncomfortable being put under the gaze of her wide eyes.

You couldn’t read Mira, now this wasn’t a super power persay, but you breezed through life being able to read the majority of people, they’d never have to say a word but their thoughts easily came alive through the pitch of their voice, the short pause in a sentence or their posture stiffening. You could simply just tell how someone felt. There was always an exception to this, Chishiya was one of them, and it seemed Mira was as well.

She looked perfectly calm and the only thing you could see in her expression was pure curiosity. It sparkled across her eyes and she seemed so enamored with you despite having not said a word, as if you were a book and she’d love nothing more than to read you on a sunny warm afternoon.

It was in some ways warm and welcoming, and in others odd and alienating, “I’ve heard you’re relatively new to the Beach and yet you’re already playing many games?” She quirked an eyebrow before offering a soft laugh, “It’s fascinating to me! Especially hearing all this chatter about you possibly being a hearts player! Would you agree…? That you could be a hearts player?”

You looked away from the table briefly before offering a weak smile, deciding that while Mira had an odd energy, she was clearly harmless, “Well…” You sat for a moment gathering your thoughts at her loaded question before you carefully spoke, “I’d rather keep myself busy, then sit and waste away here. Even if it means possible death. I don’t have a specialty yet, so I don’t feel I’m qualified to really answer your question regarding that.”

Mira sipped on her tea, a thin smile tugging on her lips as she ever so slightly tilted her head in curiosity, blinking as she gracefully set her cup and saucer down, “Even if it meant possible death…?” She recited your words once more before asking, “That’s odd.” It was a simple statement that made you raise your brows a little at making her giggle, “It’s odd because most are quite terrified when they first come here. But you aren’t, in fact, I heard you haven't been scared not once since coming here. Even amongst the face of death. Most typically fear death, it’s thought because nobody knows what’s beyond the point of life, thus the irrational fear of the unknown.”

You were now mirroring her once expression of curiosity as she spoke delicately, “But recent studies show that the stimulation of adrenaline when put in life threatening situations can become addictive. For how can we truly appreciate life if we have never been put in a position where it could be taken from us? Do you agree with that sentiment Y/n? I think it’s quite poetic.” Staring down into the deep warm liquid in your teacup, it was lukewarm at best meaning Mira must have been here for a long while now, wordlessly you took a sip as your eyes stayed on the glass. Life threatening situations could become addictive huh…? You thought back to your feelings about the games, how for a brief period of time you didn’t have any thoughts or qualms with going night after night just...just because. Just for the thrill. Because why not? Perhaps her

words did ring some truth.

“I think...people don’t know what they’re capable of until they’re pushed beyond their limits. And when they find that part of themselves, they don’t want to let it go. They can’t,” You spoke thoughtfully, thinking back to a paper you had written in your freshman year of university about the theory of behavioral development, “Because if they only found it- via a life threatening situation, they don’t know how to gain that part of themselves back in a safe and controlled environment. So instead, they seek those uncontrollable situations again to regain that part of themselves.”

Mira’s smile slowly widened as if she was thoroughly fascinated and impressed by your words as she leaned in a little, picking up her teacup once more, a ruby red lip stain printed on the side of the cup as she spoke, “So you believe it’s a loss of identity, and a sense of need for it, that keep them going?”

“It’s not that simple,” You replied as you curved a brow, to say you knew what propelled people- even yourself into why the seek of games was addictive would be presumptuous, “Placing a wide variety of people, with various personalities, flaws, coping mechanisms, home lives, education into one singular lense, would be naive if not arrogant to assume that's what keeps them seeking a thrill. That may be one of many motives for someone to do it, but for some, it’s a sense of power and control, for some it’s the primitive nature of finding themselves, proving their worth, every motive and every person is different.”

Mira’s smile slowly turned into a lopsided smirk as she lowered her teacup down from one last sip as she let it sit clasped in her hands against her lap gently, “By this definition, then what are yours Y/n?”

You frowned a little before you looked down at the table, why did you...in some morbid way enjoy games? “I don’t know.” you softly admitted, your smile was weak as you looked up at Mira once more, “I do them, simply because I can, because it passes the time, because maybe, there’s a grand scheme in the making here, and participating in games leads me one step closer to what it is.”

“And what if there isn’t?” Mira asked, some could take it for a counter, a challenge, but not you, there was nothing but sincerity in Mira’s eyes, as if consciously fascinated in each of your answers, as if she memorized them word for word with each passing second, “What if these games are here simply because they can be? What then?”

You sat quietly for what seemed like a long time, and Mira was in no hurry for your answer, a patient smile on her lips as she returned her teacup to the table to pour in fresh hot water from the porcelain teapot she had set out on the table. You sat and thought about your life before these games, back to when you were a little girl and you sat on your mothers lap when she’d read you a story just at night fall.

Back when you found her body slumped in her bed and an empty bottle of pills on the ground next to her laid out hand that was above it. The cap was still on the sheets next to her pale face and no matter how many times you shook her, hugged her, begged for her to open her eyes, she never woke up. You could narrow it down a little past that event, not her death, but the funeral was when something ached inside you.

Why?

It wasn’t that you had wished for a different outcome at the tender age of five. You simply just wanted to know why? Why did she do it? What was her reason, what was the motive, what did she have to gain? And what did she have to lose? And could have been done to prevent it?

Why?

It seeped into every part of your life, why had your dad gone to shark loans? Why did he choose alcohol instead of a phone call to someone who could help? Why did it have to be you who he took his anger out on? Why did the teacher at your school who saw the bruises you tried to hide simply ignore it? Why did the manager at the only job that would accept a highschooler interview you just to see if you were willing to be filmed on a couch? Why did the people involved not help? Why…?

It’s all you ever wanted to know. Why...?

Your mind drifted to the games, why had the dealers chosen Chishiya, of all people to be your partner? Why did Ryu decide to mention the beach to you? You had so many questions, not to find the reason for the ultimate goal of the borderlands, but the complexities that ran them.

“If this is truly just a game,” You finally spoke, thinking back to earlier when you had been silently letting Chishiya, a man of absolutes who held no regret in anything he did, how your mind had thought in that moment, “With no other high reason to be here, other than to simply be a game. If there is no ‘why’ to that reason other than simply because, then I’d just enjoy myself and win.” You offered a resolved smile.

You hadn’t taken the time to unpack the large umbrella of possibilities as to why you all were in the Borderlands playing games of life or death and fearing for your lives day in and out. Purely because it already took a lot of energy to simply exist here, contemplation on the meaning of it all seemed draining, hence you hadn’t thought too hard about it.

Mira leaned back in her seat as she smiled brightly, the happiest you had seen her the whole conversation as she nodded her head in understanding, “Thank you for that! I think...I understand for now. I’m sure you have things you need to do, don’t let me keep you. Let's talk again though soon, yeah?”

“Of course...um…” You paused, setting down your teacup as Mira tilted her head, as if waiting for you to finish what you were getting ready to ask,”...May I ask what you did before all of this?”

Mira’s smile was bright and bubbly as she let out a little laugh, “Of course, I was a psychiatrist ♡ "

25th Day Sojourn

The past few weeks had remained relatively inactive and you had spent them strictly to your word in not participating in games and letting your burns heal. Which had come a very long way from where they had started- probably thanks to Chishiya who kept you on a very strict regime of maintenance care with them.

You were currently reading sitting on one of the high top tables that was set out on the pool patio, a multitude of people splashing around and Hiroko who was severely mad at Ryu for throwing her into the pool had just stalked up and sat beside you, arms crossed as she huffed, “You okay?” You offered a tiny smile at her disturbed expression as she let out a noise of complaint but said nothing, “...My visa expires in 2 days.” You hummed out, flipping the page of your book, resolving to set it face down on the glass table so you wouldn’t lose your spot.

“So you’re saying you wanna play a game tonight?” Hiroko quirked a brow at your words making you shrug with a lopsided smile, it wasn’t that you were bored but you would preferably like to get back into the groove of playing games again, not that your position on the board mattered but you did get knocked back several positions behind from where you last left off. That and you’d rather at least die in a game than death by laser from the sky.

“Why not? A little birdy told me you weren’t playing tonight though.” You lifted the solo cup up to your lips, the warm trill of tequila and mixer that no amount of ice could make cold. You weren’t really into day drinking but it was difficult to not be at the Beach where it felt like a summer vacation in hell constantly.

Hiroko wrinkled her nose as she shrugged, “I’ve been feeling kind of under the weather, we did get caught up in some cold rain a few days ago. Think it’s a cold. I have more than plenty of time on my visa so it’ll be fine to go a few days without. Why don’t you ask your boyfriend?”

You would’ve asked in more concern for her possibly being sick had she not added that last word making you sputter in confusion, “Boyfriend?”

“Why are you outside? You know that’s just gonna damage the burns even more. You truly are an idiot.” Your lips twisted in annoyance at the exasperated sigh of a new voice that entered the conversation, Chishiya standing before you both, black aviators on and his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket.

“I’m in the shade!” You complained waving your hand at the umbrella stand that had been opened in the middle of the table keeping you from the warm rays of light, most of your burns had healed but Chishiya had told you, in quotes ‘to stay out of the sun since you were probably too dumb to understand it would inflame your burns further’

“Just because there’s shade doesn’t mean ultraviolet rays don’t reach you.” Chishiya spoke in a sing-song tone, “But you don’t care right? Because you’re dumb? A dumbass that doesn’t understand basic meteorology?”

Hiroko stayed silent, in fact, her gaze was an act as if she had proved whatever point she made, sipping on her drink as your lips futilely opened and closed, unsure of how to even respond. Yes, this had been going on for the past few days now, where Chishiya would harshly reprimand you when you wouldn’t listen to him.

“I’m just having a drink, why are you attacking me?” You sounded like a puppy, lips quirking into a pitiful pout at his sharp tongued words, “And just because I call myself dumb doesn’t mean you can!” You hissed out directly afterwards, your eyes cutting into his but he only triumphantly smirked.

“That doesn’t change the truth though, does it?” He egged you on making you roll your eyes as you deflated into your chair, crossing your arms as you both silently stared at each other and with each passing second staring at that cocky expression on his face was becoming more annoying by the second.

“Anyways.” You coughed harshly, your nose wrinkling a little as you sent one last glare at Chishiya before turning back to Hiroko, “It’s fine, I understand, I’ll just find someone else to go with tonight.” Your eyes trailed back to the pool where Nanami was at, her back directly turned to you where she was crowded around her friends, all talking in what looked semi serious, or possibly just gossip.

You hadn’t talked to her...at all these days, she had become more distant from you and in some ways you felt incredibly helpless, as if your relationship with her was fading altogether and no matter what you did, leave her alone, attempt to talk, it only resulted in her anger sparking that much more. You couldn’t do anything right, or so it felt like.

“Well be careful while you’re out…” You were taken away by your thoughts at Hiroko’s careful words, Chishiya had leaned against your chair, observing the conversation though it felt like he was just here to strictly annoy you further now. Unless he wanted to discuss something that he couldn’t in the realms of Hiroko. Which you didn’t understand either as it wasn’t like she was into the front of what the beach stood for regardless, “You really think I’m that bad at games?” You remarked weakly, not used to her care in this way being shown. And it wasn’t that Hiroko didn’t care, she just knew the risks of games just as everyone else did. There was no need for sentimental care here.

“Of course not,” Hiroko rolled her eyes as she crossed her arms, giving you a reprimanding look that made you feel slightly dumb, “It’s just…” She rubbed her neck as she sighed, looking around somewhat apprehensive as she lowered her voice, “...We haven’t told any of the regulars here at the Beach but...there’s another group out playing games.”

Your brows furrowed before you looked to your side where Chishiya stood, one elbow leaned on the back of your chair, he exchanged looks with you but he remained neutral as you frowned, “Like...group as in, like the Beach?”

Hiroko slowly nodded, ‘Something like that, run more like the militant sect though from the sounds of it. They aren’t a big group but they’re pretty violent from what I heard. Hatter apparently had a run in with them during his last game. It sounds like they got word of our operation here and mean business.”

Hiroko was talking in a veiled tone that left you mildly confused but you could at least read between the lines, “Like...raid business…?” Your nose wrinkled further as she frowned with a nod, saying nothing else as she looked away briefly, concern filling her features as her eyes washed over the scene of everyone happily enjoying themselves.

“We already have to deal with the militant sect pushing boundaries constantly for more control of the Beach...the last thing we need is outsiders finding our home base and ruining everything. People are horrible.” She sighed wistfully as she rested her chin on her hand.

“Things are getting interesting,” Chishiya’s lips twisted into a smirk with that annoying sing-song tone of his, “It’s about time entertainment found this place. Just when I thought it was getting boring.”

“Do you even have a heart?” Hiroko sneered as she glared at him, his expression didn’t change though, in fact he looked even more amused at getting under not only your skin but Hiroko’s as well.

“A heart isn’t needed in the Borderlands, so I’d say no, I guess?” Chishiya shrugged illusively as you rolled your eyes, finally leaning on the other side of your chair so you could get a proper look at the smug bastard, he seemed in a relatively good mood today all things considered.

“Let’s do a game with Kuina tonight! I haven’t gotten to play a game with her since she got here, I think it’d be pretty fun.” You smiled enthusiastically, Kuina had immediately become a part of the group the moment she had discovered the Beach and you were thrilled for her company as you got along great together.

Not only thing but much to your surprise it seemed Chishiya also enjoyed her company- though he would never willingly admit to that, you could still sense it though, Chishiya’s expression didn’t change drastically but it was distinct, his nose wrinkling ever so slightly and his lips twisting just by a hair, “Don’t look like that!” You whined, kicking your legs in your chair, “It can’t just always be us playing games. Besides, you enjoy Kuina’s company.”

“I’m not interested in doing a game tonight.” Chishiya replied curtly, his gaze looked near feline as you snorted with a raised eyebrow, Chishiya, not in the mood for a game? In what world?

“What plans do you have- besides brooding in your room the whole day or being a menace to society? You should consider lying out in the sun a little, your ultraviolet rays aren’t making it to your ghost legs.” You waved at him and you could hear Hiroko snort.

Chishiya’s pupils narrowed as he spoke, “Ultraviolet rays are a form of electromagnetic radiation- meaning they’re most prominent during cloudy days, it doesn’t visibly tan skin but can still leave you with sunburn.” You nearly yelped at cold slim fingers suddenly grabbing your chin, forcefully making you crane your head to stare at those cold eyes as you squirmed, “But I’m sure your little brain can’t understand that concept, can it? Hm? Because you’re an idiot?” He spat out though it really didn’t hold a bite to it.

That’s kinda hot.

Your face felt like it was burning and it was absolutely not the ultraviolet rays doing that as you shoved Chishiya’s hand away from you face, thoroughly embarrassed at the intrusive thought that had entered the back of your head, “You’re such a fucking nerd! Jesus, I’m- I’m gonna go find Kuina!” You fumbled out of your chair creating as much distance from Chishiya as possible as you rubbed your neck, “Asshole.” You hurriedly called out for good measure as you began walking into the hotel. Your face felt like it had been lit on fire the whole walk back and you didn’t even want to start unpacking what you had thought because…! It was just an intrusive thought! It happens all the time, no reason to make a big deal out of it…! It happens…! All of the time! “Are you good?” You hadn’t even realized you had found Kuina until she spoke to you, her eyebrow cocked as she snorted, “You seem flustered.”

“I’m fine!” You spoke sharply, crossing your arms, well aware of the broody pout you sported and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t make it go away, “...My-...” You sighed, taking a breath to regather yourself, “My visa ends in two days so I was wondering if you wanted to help me with a game tonight?”

Kuina’s lips suddenly twisted into a grin as she puffed her chest a little, “Hell yeah! We’ll be the power duo of the night!” She wrapped an arm around your neck pulling you way too close to her- “Meanwhile let’s enjoy ourselves, I was just playing poker if you wanna join in?” You frowned, unfamiliar with the rules but you figured why not?

Midday turned into the afternoon and the afternoon soon turned into nightfall where you and Kuina began to prep to go out. Stepping outside the gates of the Beach though you wanted to snort at the sight ahead of you, “Shouldn’t you be in your room brooding?”

“Oh? Shouldn’t you be groveling at my feet in thanks for helping your stupidity?” Chishiya replied, his hood was pulled up and one earbud was dangling against his jacket, he had actually gotten dressed out beach attire today much to your surprise.

At least you weren’t the only one who didn’t care for the beach attire rule. Everyone else just kept making fun of you for it until now, Kuina was still in her beach top but had a cropped jean jacket to go with it and hey, it’s not like her style had changed much up until this point.

You sighed exasperatedly and decided the battle just wasn’t worth it at the moment with him, but granted was it ever? Chishiya was someone who, in his own mind, never lost an argument. But maybe, it wasn’t so much you were looking to win the argument as you were just more times then less, enjoyed dicking around with him and watching him get increasingly annoyed at whatever bullshit flew out of your mouth.

The drive to a venue was unshockingly filled with bickering that never ceased between you both except now- somehow even worse with the addition of Kuina who was more then happy to shove her input into the conversation, which almost always made the chaos even worse.

It was good short trip though altogether, “Uh, is this even a venue?” You frowned at the starlight hotel that was dazzling, obviously it was but…”I dunno about this guys.” You didn’t have a good feeling about this venue. It just seemed way too big.

Chishiya curved a brow as he snorted, “The worst that could happen is your death- which at this point you beg for every other second of the day. Doesn’t seem like a bad trade off to me.”

“Where’s the trade off in that?” Kuina chimed in, walking beside you both as you approached the large building, cars were piled up making the street hard to even get across leaving you all on the side walk with the car a little ways back and you spotted someone already entering the venue. It was probably packed with people given it was such a big venue.

Stuff like this always attracts newcomers too.

“The trade off is Y/n finally dies and I’m rid of her insufferable presence.” Chishiya answered with that stupid thin smile of his making you huff as you crossed your arms, pausing as you watched them both walk ahead before stopping to look at you, who was dramatically puffing your cheeks, “Insufferable yet you only do games with me? Okay. You know, is this some new found kink you have or something? Where you have to remind me every two seconds of how dumb I am or that you don’t like me when you do?” A smile curled on your lips as you leaned forward a little, admittedly feeling a little cocky on calling him out on his bullshit.

Kuina’s eyebrows raised as she turned to look at Chishiya, looking mildly conflicted between suddenly being a third wheel but also too invested to not see how Chishiya would reply. He only puffed an amused breath, as if whatever you said sounded stupid to him, probably did, “Wouldn’t you like to know?” He let out a sing-song tone that nearly had steam coming out of your ears as you stomped your foot….This…! This absolute-

You weren't able to retaliate, cut off by a strangled yelp that escaped you at being ripped into the alleyway by your hair, it was dark compared the well light walkway from the venue, hands were all over you trying to get a good grip on you as you squirmed and yelped once more as being slammed into the wall, “We got one! Let's go!” You could distinctly make out the sound of Kuina’s voice but everything sounded muffled and you were acutely aware of a cloth bag being out over your head and being jostled around. It was only another minute before you were shoved somewhere hard and small- presumably a trunk and then, nothing.

The light was bright in stark contrast to the black tote bag- yes black tote bag- because apparently just using a plastic bag and ending your miserable fucking existence was too much to ask at this point- they had used to cover your head, your lips curled a little and your eyes squinted at the gritty space that looked a lot like a car parking building. What you didn’t like about this, were your hands being tied behind your back and the fact that you were surrounded by men.

Oh, you really didn’t like this. It was clear the whole place had been turned into a raunchy hang out place for all kinds of bad and you could only assume this was the group Hiroko had warned you about.

“There’s our Cinderella!” Your lips twitched and slowly turned into a frown as you heard multiple hollars at the sound of the voice that approached you, the man who was clearly in charge around here couldn’t have been any older than you by the looks of it. In fact...why did he look so familiar…?

He stood in front of you, a smirk plastered on his lips that made your frown further before he grabbed your chin, “Just look at that pretty face, if it weren’t for that little wristband of yours we’d let you stay for free, yeah?” He turned over his shoulder to what you could only assume was his friend and then it hit you.

Kamei Rin, that’s who this was, it nearly made you want to laugh. He was a psychology major just like you and you often shared lectures together- except you were positive he didn’t recognize you the way you did him and his friend was Ichikawa Hikaru, was a major in law. They went to your campus and were pretty heavily known due to being popular and in one of the best fraternities there.

The mention of a wristband made you frown however, he was talking about your room number key, the one everyone wore which had their board number on it. If you moved up on the board you changed out rooms, it was a simple concept but this just confirmed that they indeed, caught on to everyone at the Beach wearing one. Which meant this was why they captured you, you expected no less but still the idea made your stomach churn ever so slightly.

You said nothing, unsure of what to say or how to present yourself in this situation to these two men and all of their cronies that stared down at you, Rin’s hand squeezed your chin harshly as you looked up at him wordlessly, “Obedient are we?” He teased lightly and the words made you want to roll your eyes but you refrained, “Since you’re so slow, allow me to explain everything.”

Your lips twitched a little, now fully resisting a snarky reply as Rin released your chin from his grip, “We’re the Alpha Makeup, our group is small and based around the best of the best, we have our spade team,” he nodded over to one group which seemed to be rough housing with one another, “The diamonds.” He nodded the other way to a more reclusive group and you could’ve deduced that much without his introduction, “The clubs here.” He waved around himself towards the others the piled around you, “And of course us, Hearts players. If you couldn’t tell.” He sent you a charming smile, yes, this was absolutely Rin, you’d remember those pearly white teeth from anywhere, “I’m Kamei Rin, the leader around here.”

“Oh? But you never explained why I’m here…?” Your lips tugged into a helpless pout, your eyes immediately dropping a little and your shoulders curling as best they could. Yes…within those seconds you decided what you’d do, easily.

You could hear a warm chuckle sound throughout the room before Rin kneeled down to make eye contact with you, an amused expression in his face- presumably at your timid reaction, “Well sweetheart allow me to explain- you see you have a wristband which lets us know you’re from another group. A bigger group yeah? The Beach, was it?” Your lips quivered a little as you frowned, at his words, “That’s your group isn’t it? Don’t lie. Even a pretty face doesn’t suit a liar.”

Matsuda Rin was an excellent psych student, he tutored in his spare time, took extra credit, volunteered hours to help programs, but he was also a notorious heartbreaker and was well known for some considerably toxic habits which came to you as ironic, after all, why go into the world of psychology if one doesn’t even want to start with the first change- themselves?

This wasn’t an uncommon occurrence of course, you had run into many people who were in the same major as you and yet they were the ones that genuinely needed someone to tell them the truth about major red flags they exuded.

You wouldn’t dub Rin one of these people back before the Borderlands, he wasn’t the greatest guy, but you had always felt- from what you heard down the line- that he knew what he was doing was wrong and was attempting to make a change. Failing yeah, but it was the thought and attempt that count, but given the state he was in now you could only assume currently that much like many others, he had crumbled to the Borderlands.

“Well...yeah I guess,” You mumbled, your bottom lip jutting slightly as your eyes downcasted, shifted a little uncomfortable due to the restraints that were tight on your wrists, “It’s not an actual beach though…” This made all the men around you laugh, not just laugh, but directly at what you said, as if you had said something insanely stupid.

If it wasn’t for this being an act, you would’ve actually felt self conscious but the more they assumed you a ditz the better of a position you were in when it came to the long run of this situation, you were well aware this situation wasn’t to your advantage, lying wasn’t an option- at least out right and resisting would only end you in murky water- possibly death. They couldn’t begrudge you too much if you simply just couldn’t be blamed for not knowing anything.

Or in your care, pretending you were too much of a ditz to properly answer a question.

“We know that sweetheart,” Rin’s smile was charming but his voice dripped with condescension as he pouted his lips somewhat mockingly, “All you have to tell us is where the location is at hm? Then we’ll take you right back.”

You forced your lips to tremble a little and your eyes darting away from his, making your eyes blur a little with watery eyes as you mumbled, “...Well...I know it’s beyond water...um...I don’t...I don’t drive when we go out for games…” The only reason you felt so warm was probably because of how much of an idiot you felt like at the moment suddenly hearing them all begin to snicker at your obvious daftness.

“I told you we should’ve went for the taller one,” Hikaru tutted, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he looked down at you suspectedly, “ You can never rely on women like this to know anything.”

Rin sighed exasperatedly as he closed his eyes, “All in good time Hikaru, just because she doesn’t know exactly doesn’t mean she can’t give us details in good time, right sweetheart?” His fingers trailed down your jawline making your lips come close to twitching but you managed to keep a doe like expression on your face.

“I...I guess I don’t have much of a choice…” You mumbled once more, frowning as you gently tugged out of his grip though your resistance was weak against the force of his hand. Rin’s smile was thin as he looked down at you, “Don’t act all put out, I know just how you’ll fit in around here until that ditzy little memory of yours is working again princess.”

“...We should get back to the Beach and get help, I don’t think this is a good idea...I mean, there’s two of us, and a lot of them…” Kuina walked up to the large building, a car lot building to be precise, in fact, it was so large, she was surprised it wasn’t a game venue as it looked like the definition of a perfect place for one.

Chishiya had been silent the majority of the time, hands stuffed in his pockets and his hoodie covering the upper part of his face, shadowing out the deep set glare he had on the building, “Oh? What’s the most they’ll do to two willing captives hm?” Finally a sinister smirk crawled on his lips, “Just when I thought things were getting a little boring.”

Kuina twisted a little to look down at the feline eyes that bore into the building before he strode up to it, shaking her head she sighed, deciding to not argue with him after all, what was the use? For two people who weren’t into each other at all, Kuina had a difficult time believing the fact that Chishiya had instantly tracked down their headquarters within an hour and was now ready to face whatever they wanted- was strictly platonic.

But whatever.

She strode a little behind him as they entered the first lot which was unsurprisingly empty and there their journey up the staircase began. It wasn’t until the seventh level that they began to hear distant laughter from above alerting them that they were getting closer to their destination.

Kuina was nearly wiped, her hand gripping the handrail for dear life as she wheezed to get her breath back, “So what’s the plan to get your girlfriend back? We just waltz in and demand they give her back?”

Chishiya scoffed a little, side eyeing her briefly as he leisurely stepped up the stairs, “Precisely what I’ll do, I don’t make exceptions for idiots that don’t even try to cover their tracks.” It was truly a pathetic attempt in kidnap, not only did they burn rubber tracks into the ground halfway through the ride but they had made a pitiful mess on the sidewalk they used to get past all the traffic of cars, and of course the trash they blew past might as well have left a trail, even a child could have found this poor attempt at a hideout.

It didn’t take long for them to be spotted by a few of the guards, granted Chishiya made no attempt at any point to try and hide, after all there was no point in drawing this out any longer then purely necessary, your visa only had two days left on it and wasting tonight was not on the to do list.

“Well look here, two more members of the Beach.” One guard stated with a smug look, peering at both of their bracelets, “Arms up where we can see them.”

“Chishiya…” Kuina glanced at him pointedly but he said nothing, a haughty look on his face as he held up his hands.

“Two more? Then that means you already have one of us here, I guess?"

Kuina glanced not at Chishiya but at the guards in concern, his expression was wickedly sinister, a haughty smirk coiled on his face but his glare looked like it could kill instantly.

Both of the guards however didn’t seem to realize what kind of danger they were in, “Oh yeah we got one of your members already,” The guard snorted as they dragged them both along, “The only thing she’s proven good at is having a nice pair of tits to look at though.”

Kuina’s glare sharpened at the blatant sexualization but before she could respectfully kick both of their asses they entered the top of the stairwell into the main floor of the parking garage, presumably where everyone resided as people crowded up here.

“Well, it must be our lucky day,” A man called out, sitting in a chair, a leg propped over it’s arm rest, “You know these two doll?” He glanced down.

And you were certainly a sight to see, having been forced to change into a pair of cut off high waisted shorts and stripped of your shirt, wearing only the bikini top you had on beneath it. That wasn’t what Chishiya’s eyes had focused on though. No it was the dog collar around your neck, a chain leash attached to it as the man yanked it, make forcing you closer to him where you had been kneeled on the ground. And even more shockingly you didn’t resist, rather the opposite.

You laid your arms over his lap as you looked up at him with mistakenly innocent eyes, “They seem a little familiar, what are you gonna do Rin?”

The man, Rin only grinned, grabbing your chin with a squeeze, “Don’t worry sweetheart, it just means you get to stay with us that much longer.”

Chishiya hadn’t even realized how hard his hand had coiled until a warm sticky liquid slowly dripped into his palm from where his nails dug too deep into his skin.

If there was one thing he was certain of, it was that he would make sure this man had an excruciatingly painful death. He would make sure of it.

#alice in borderland x reader #alice in borderland #aib #aib x reader #chishiya x reader #chishiya shuntaro #alice in borderland chishiya #aib imagine

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fandomlovingfreak · 1 year ago

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By The Cliffs (Ch 5/?)

Paul Lahote x Female Reader

Wattpad I AO3 I Twilight Masterlist

Rating: T+

Word Count: 1348

Summary: It was supposed to be a vacation.

A time to relax after Graduate School and unwind the pent-up tension I'd built up in the years of juggling school and work. Finally, I'd have the chance to breathe. Craving the serenity of mother nature's caress, I'd chosen Forks, a four-hour drive from the University, based on the stories I'd heard from Washington locals I'd known in school. With its endless trees and rainy weather, it seemed a perfect sleepy dream spot.

In retrospect, my belief that it was solely my decision to visit and not the Universe's mystic call pulling me there was mortal ignorance. But who besides a creature possessing the gift of predestination could have anticipated what awaited me by the cliffs?

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or any of Meyer's Characters. This work is not created for profit or financial compensation, and is a transformative fair use work in accordance with Section 107 of the United States Cop1yright Act.

Notes: Paul's POV!! He's got some abandonment issues that will probably be more obvious in his POV's then in other characters (at least so far lol)

Warnings: This fic is about Imprinting. Warning if that's not your cup of tea. There is some swearing (bc it's my love language) and angst. Some abandonment issues but lowkey Paul doesn't even understand his feelings either so it's vague-ish.

Enjoy!

I know I'm not actually angry with her as I watch her retreat back into the house. Truthfully, I was mad at myself. That first impression was a shit show, making it abundantly clear that I had a lot of work ahead of myself if I wanted (y/n) to welcome the imprint.

It's not like she could know that I could hear her entire conversation with Sam and Emily before I walked into the house due to my heightened hearing, but hearing her call me Mr. Hothead had sent a spike of hurt through my body. Even if it was fair-- especially after watching someone spiral out of control like I had.

My piss-poor explanation-- our conversation, if you could call it that-- made me all too aware that her anger was also fair. Just because I could admit all of this didn't mean her rejection didn't sting.

You couldn't pry this information from me, but I had pictured a fantasy where I'd meet this so-called soulmate by whatever chance. Nowhere in that sick romantic fantasy had I expected this outcome. I guess I'd expected whoever she was to feel that instant connection and know we were fated to be in each other's lives. Reality had kicked my ass enough times. You'd think I should have anticipated the opposite.

A sympathetic hand lands on my shoulder, squeezing slightly. I don't need to turn to know it's Sam's hand on my shoulder.

"Give her some space. There's no use in continuing to argue. It'll only drive her further away."

I want to knock his hand off and tell him to go fuck himself... but he's right. I wish I could say he doesn't understand this rejection, but I know out of everyone here, Sam understands everything I'm going through perfectly. Emily wasn't the type to yell, but she'd wanted nothing to do with him initially. I'd felt and heard that memory a thousand times in the past years as his thoughts had unintentionally been shared around the pack.

"Okay." The single word comes out in a huff under my breath.

"Maybe you should run it off," Sam suggests, "One of us will talk to her,

talk her through it... better, and then you can come back and try again later."

The idea of Sam or any others explaining these... almost intimate details

with (y/n) reignites the stinging pain inside me. It should be me. It's our bond.

Rationally, I knew we couldn't find common ground with the heightened emotion that raged between us. Still, I desperately wanted her to understand I wasn't forcing her to do or be anything because of the imprint. I needed to give Sam or someone else to explain the things I fumbled through before... letting her know that the imprint wasn't something that held her to me, but honestly, the opposite. It was me who needed her.

Releasing a breath, I hadn't realized I was holding in, I nod, "You're right. I'll go." It was probably good to get away from the current environment. The breather-- the distance-- away from the pack would help me find my composure.

The first step towards the tree line stung, like there was a rubber band between me and her, and every step away pulled the rubber unnaturally... too tight. I force myself to continue until I'm out of view, mentally blocking out the screaming in my head, begging me to run back to her.

Stashing my shorts under a fallen tree, I phase, breaking into a spring down the familiar path. Though I'm still fighting myself mentally, I try to enjoy the run and surrender to my wolf instincts.

Run. Fast. Hard.

Her face pops into my head, crystal clear, like she's standing right before me, and my claws dig into the dirt, my lungs burning as I stop dead in my tracks. Panting hard, I let my mind wander across the details of her face. We'd spent only minutes in each other's company, yet I could recall the smallest details like I'd known her for decades. Like I had had the chance to study her intimately.

My feet move on their own, propelling myself through the forest toward home as the imprint bond offers me more possible scenes from the future. She's smiling, her hand reaching for mine, our fingers entwining lazily as she laughs. (y/n) looking at me from the passenger side of the car, singing to something I can't hear. She's reaching for me, our lips meeting as she initiates a kiss.

These possibilities, moments where she smiles at me and laughs with me, wants to kiss me, bring me hope. I can fix this.

Phasing back, I make my way into the house. Dad's in the kitchen, drying dishes.

"Paul?" He calls, wiping his hands on the kitchen towel before leaning on the counter to watch me, "What are you doing here?"

"Showering," I smile, close-mouthed at him, trying to make my escape towards the bathroom.

"Showering? It's only," he looks down at his watch, "Four. Don't you have patrol tonight?"

I pause, "I have a good reason."

Dad raises his brows in interest, "And that is?"

"I'm-- going to see a girl." It's not really a lie; it's not really the truth.

"Sam's letting you blow off patrol for a girl?" He doesn't look like he believes a word of it. Or at least, he doesn't entirely "Doesn't really sound like Sam."

I shrug, "Kinda has to. I… imprinted."

The gears turn in Dad's head momentarily as the words catch up with him, "Well, I'll be damned. Are you bringing her over soon? I'd like to meet my

future daughter-in-law." I know he's ragging, but it still makes me

anxious. Bringing (y/n) here would not happen for a while, especially if he

insisted on making that type of joke. After today's events, I'd walk on eggshells around her regarding this sort of humor.

"Not anytime soon. Gotta convince her to talk to me without it ending it an

argument."

"Ah--" Dad crosses his arms over his chest, looking delighted for whatever reason, "She's not local, is she?"

I scoff. As if that matters. An imprint is an imprint no matter their

background, "Nope. The wolf thing really-- freaked her out." The image of her running back into Emily's house screaming about wolves flashes through my memory.

"Understandable. It's not every day you encounter shapeshifters."

The understatement of the century.

"Listen, I'll talk about it later, okay?" I move to make my escape, "I want to drive her back to her car—"

"Why doesn't she have her car?" Dad interrupts.

"I'll explain later!" I turn, making my way down the hall before he can ask any questions.

Shutting the bathroom door behind me, I turn the small shower on before stripping down. Standing under the ice-cold spray immediately relieves some of the tension in my shoulders. I exhale, my body seeming to deflate further. Finally, my head starts to clear ever so slightly, and I can begin to rack my brain for the words I must say to (y/n). Without being pushy, I need to explain the imprint in a way that balances out the power. It was obvious by her words and reactions that she felt I was trapping her, leaving her with no choice but to be with me. I can see how alarming that would be; a stranger coming on to you strongly would freak me out, too.

Driving that point across was important. The other part I needed to make right was her perception of me. I was so much more than anger. And I could be so much for her if she only asked.

If I could get her to see beyond her concept of 'Paul', the asshole who screamed at the guys who saved her and then argued with her when he was supposed to explain imprinting, I would be golden.

Recovering my image wasn't impossible. I'd just have to be more patient with my imprint. If I could be patient for anyone, it would be (y/n).

Thanks for reading! I appreciate all of you who have read this fic, liked- reblogged- commented- sent an ask! You are AWESOME!

#Paul Lahote #Paul Lahote x reader #paul lahote x female reader #twilight #the twilight saga #twilight saga #paul lahote x you #fanfiction #fanfic #reader insert #fandomlovingfreak #new moon #eclipse #breaking dawn #imprinting #imprint #imprinting fic #angst

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croissantlover24 · 2 months ago

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Your New Home (Does Not Welcome You)

(Ruins of Rust AU AU where Dark Sun [Solstice] and Nexus found Copper)

Dark Sun adjusted his glasses as he went through the trash cans outside, Nexus doing the same nearby. While the lunar animatronic had been… less than ecstatic to dig through trash when asked to, he begrudgingly agreed. Solstice dug deeper into the plastic cage, looking for something out of the metal abyss that he could use. He had dropped a tracker into one of the bins a few days ago, but forgot which container it was in.

“What’s this?” he heard Nexus inquire with a scoff. It must not be anything important.

Dark Sun replaced his thin gloves and walked over, gandering at what prompted Nexus to scoff with a bored expression.

Inside of the bin, there was an animatronic made out of copper about the same height as the two in a sitting position. She had a wide hat painted to match the metal she was made out of. Half of her body was a desaturated green, the copper having oxidized over however long she was trapped in there. Her outfit was built into a dress with a circular skirt that was fit tightly into place by the metal it was made from. Her shoes were also copper. Solstice frowned.

“How long has this been in here?”

“I don’t know,” Nexus replied, “but we should throw it through a trash compactor. It’s already rusting and probably doesn’t even work—are you listening?”

Dark Sun had ignored the lunar animatronic to pull out all the bags of trash so he could get a better look at the copper construction.

“Do you think she’s still functioning?” Solstice asked despite knowing that it was likely improbable that she could still turn on.

Nexus sneered. “I doubt it.”

Dark Sun reached around the back of her faceplate to find a power switch, his expression blank as he stared at her permanent smile. He found one. He flicked her on almost mockingly, knowing she had to be out of power after so long.

Copper’s fans began to whir as her white pupils returned to their rightful place in her eyes. She looked up at the two animatronics in front of her, confusion evident on her face. One looked like a Sun model, but… different. He had glasses and a brown sweater with matching pants. The other looked like a Moon model. He was much thinner and taller, however, and his hat went down to his waist. His bulbous red eyes dug daggers into hers. She swiftly directed her attention elsewhere, uncomfortable with his scrutiny.

“Would you look at that?” the Sun model said flatly. “She works.”

“I’m sorry, ah, gentlemen?” she guessed, eyeing their attire. “Who are you?”

The Moon model rolled his eyes while the Sun model helped her stand and exit the trash can. “Solstice,” Dark Sun said. He gestured toward the lunar animatronic. “That’s Nexus.”

Nexus frowned at her. She laughed nervously, quietly thanking Solstice for the assistance. “Copper,” she replied, clearing her throat of dust. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

She offered her hand to Solstice, who shook it. She would have done the same for Nexus, but it was clear he didn’t want to see her.

His next statement proved her hypothesis true.

“Look at her. She’s almost fully oxidized and covered in dust. We should just decommission her while we have the chance.”

Dark Sun glared at Nexus. “She’s working, isn’t she? Besides, she could be of assistance.” Copper didn’t like the sound of that, but didn’t press the matter. “Go do diagnostics on her and see how she’s working,” Solstice added nonchalantly, already wandering off to continue his own research.

Nexus groaned but didn’t argue. He glanced towards the copper contraption, looking over her with an unimpressed expression. He turned around and began walking. After a moment, Copper followed, assuming that was what she was supposed to do.

“Forgive me,” she inquired, “but where are we, exactly?”

“My lab,” Nexus responded, agitated. He opened the door and gestured for her to enter first. While he waited for his computer to turn on, he attached a selection of wires to the back of Copper’s head, ensuring each was on firmly.

He looked over her diagnostics, irritated that she had to stay.

Battery: 100%

That was odd. How was she at full battery if she had been turned off long enough for her to oxidize?

He took a look at how her internal systems were doing. They all seemed perfectly fine as well, despite being rusted and covered in dirt. “Hm,” he murmured under his breath, confused. That was highly unlikely for an animatronic of her stature.

The last line, however, replaced his frown with a cruel grin spread wide across his face.

She had dark star power. Was full of it. Every system inside of her was filled to maximum capacity with the energy. And she didn’t even know! The amount her body held was the same as if not more than the amount a wither storm contained.

“Wow,” he muttered under his breath.

“Is something wrong?” Copper asked with a hesitant smile.

“No,” Nexus replied. “No, this is perfect. You’ll be useful.”

“I… What do you mean…?” Copper queried, shifting uncomfortably.

Nexus quickly fixed his expression. He needed her to stay here so he could analyze how her body could contain so much of it without cracking. He could then apply the same technique to his body and become the god he claimed himself to be.

“Nothing. I meant your diagnostics look great. You can stay here.”

Copper looked relieved at that, falling for his faux welcoming grin.

“Give me a moment,” Nexus requested as he left the room. Copper didn’t follow him, giving him the space he requested.

“Solstice,” Nexus whispered, calling the solar animatronic, “she’s full of dark star power. She can help us defeat the others. She’s the perfect tool.”

Copper decided not to tell the lunar animatronic that she could hear what he was saying.

#falling for it as in being tricked NOT in love guys #sams #sun and moon show #the sun and moon show #tsams #sams au #pastry writes #ruins of rust au au #ruins of rust mad scientist au #your new home does not welcome you #ruins of rust au au part one #fnaf #copper golem au

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only-lonely-stars · 2 months ago

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Orange is the New Black (Chapter 4 - The Kids Are Alright)

[Chapter 3] // [Chapter 4 - you are here!] // [Chapter 5] – (FFN) (AO3)

Part of @ninjago-fic-fest!

Summary:

A rift opens in the sky above Ninjago City just as Cole continues his track record of falling from tall places. The place he wakes up in isn't the same as the one in which he fell... and who's the kid with a man bun who looks just like him?

Chapter summary:

Cole sees what all the fuss is about with Garmadon's constant attacks.

NOTE: The title is a reference to The Kids Are Alright (by Fall Out Boy)! Can you tell I went through a mild emo phase?

The whole world shook with the sound of heavy footfalls, engines, screaming, and maniacal laughter.

A familiar voice called out over a loudspeaker, cackling and overflowing with ego.

“Say my name, Ninjago City!”

The city replied in the form of terrified screams. “GARMADON!”

“What’s my name?!”

“GARMADON!”

Cole looked out over the city. From the docks, he was able to see a full picture of what was happening. A small army of mechs, boats, and planes– and a couple of sharks?– were assaulting the city’s coastline. At the head of the charge, a mech which had a full three meters’ height on every other vehicle around it was marching across the sandbars. Based on how it walked, the driver had clearly been there before.

And, of course, the mech was black with purple detailing. Cole wasn’t unfamiliar enough to have trouble identifying Garmadon when he saw him.

He turned to the bridge, running to find Master Wu. “Master! The city is under attack!”

Wu was looking out the bridge window, toward the city skyline. “I know.”

“What do you guys do when this happens?”

Wu shrugged, tapping his staff against the floor. “My students will retrieve their mechs. Go have fun with them.”

“Have fun?” Cole wondered if he’d gotten a concussion when he fell. “Master, I think I hit my head harder than I thought. Did you actually say–”

“Yes, I did.” Wu pointed toward the warehouse with his staff. “Now go.”

It wasn’t worth it to try reasoning or arguing with Wu, so Cole did as he was told. He walked off the deck of the Bounty, down the gangplank and onto the docks, all the while with Wu watching him go.

The day had been so strange already. Could Wu tell how unsettled he felt? Even the thought of being watched left him with shivers running up his spine, and not the pleasant kind.

As soon as he was out of view, Cole ran for the warehouse at full tilt.

He slipped in through the back door, where he was greeted by the sound of voices and doors slamming.

A moment’s investigation revealed the source of the sound was the red lockers he’d seen the day before. At the time, they hadn’t been worth any thought, but now he heard the Secret Ninja Force’s voices coming from inside them.

“Come on, let’s just get this over with quickly.” It sounded like Lloyd’s voice, but Cole just couldn’t be sure– everyone sounded just a little different from what he was used to.

“You got it, Green!” Nya’s voice was the gimme, the only woman on the team. A slamming sound accompanied her stepping out from one of the lockers, dressed in a gi with cyan and gray detailing. She looked over at Cole and immediately adopted a death glare. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh… looking for you, I guess?” Cole looked around. “What’s going on?”

Another door opened up, revealing Hence in all black– with his ever-present headphones. When he saw Cole, he gave him a jerky upward nod. “Hi, me.”

“Hi?” Cole watched as the others exited the lockers, then run to their mechs and start their engines. “Hence, what am I even seeing?”

Hence laughed, a confident sort of chuckle that Cole found he hadn’t expected. “Our school lockers have elevators that take us here so we can sneak out. Nya built them.” He all but sauntered toward a unicycle-type mech, then proceeded to scale it like a lizard. “Come on, you can ride with me. You got a mask?”

“Yeah, of course I do.”

“Great. You’d better put it on.” Hence looked back down at him, then frowned. “By the way, you’re not the Black Ninja here. I am.”

Cole gaped at him. “Excuse me? I’ve been the Black Ninja for years!”

“Not here you aren’t. We use our colors as code names, and black is taken. Pick another color.” Hence waved him on. “C’mon! I want to get my tunes going.”

Cole took one look around the warehouse, which was rapidly emptying out, and made his decision. A burst of Spinjitzu threw him up onto the body of the mech, and with one good pull-up he was able to climb inside the cockpit.

Hence gave him a strange look. “What was that?”

“What was what? Spinjitzu?”

“Spin-what?”

Cole rolled his eyes, finding a safe space to park himself so he wouldn’t fall out of the moving vehicle. “Never mind.” The cockpit looked like a DJ booth, so he decided to go behind Hence’s chair. It was almost the perfect space– that, and it gave a great view of everything Hence did, which currently included throwing records onto his twin turntables, pulling on a ninja mask, and throwing the mech into gear.

The engine roared. Cole held on to the driver’s seat as the mech leaned back suddenly, then forwards as it charged out of the warehouse.

They emerged onto the docks, but Hence seemed to have the route memorized. He scratched at his records and whooped with delight. “Ninja on the job! C’mon, get your mask on. Do you have a radio?”

“Uh, yeah. What frequency?” Did this world use frequencies?”

Hence told him, and a wave of relief flowed through Cole– it was the same unit, even, which seemed to be a rare thing between their two worlds.

Hence was impatient as Cole pulled on his ninja mask, fiddling with his booth’s many buttons and switches. “Come on, let’s go fight!”

Cole hustled to get it on. Hence didn’t waste a second; he steered them onto a major road and into the fray. The other five Secret Ninja were ahead of him, driving their mechs with all the reckless abandon of their teenage years. The constant rocking motion kept Cole from musing on that fact– even though he’d been just like them once, and he remembered it quite well– because he was struggling not to throw up.

“Hence! Can you take it– hrk– easy on the throttle?” He put one clenched fist to his mouth.

Hence looked back at him, then at the road again. “Yeah, sorry! Forgot you’re an old man.”

“Old man?! Who are you calling an old man?”

“You’re the older one of us, so you!” Hence laughed, and in the back of his mind, Cole noticed just how much he seeemed to be in his element. Was this what the alternate version of him liked? Why didn’t this joy show up in the rest of his life?

Still, Hence was compassionate enough to ease up on the rocking motion, and Cole felt a little better. They came upon the larger city streets, where the other ninja had come to a stop. Bursts of fire and ice fired into the air as Lloyd (or was it Green?) spoke over a loudspeaker.

“Lord Garmadon! Stand down!”

Garmadon’s familiar, jeering voice echoed in response from somewhere Cole couldn’t see. “Kiss my butt! Generals, get those pesky ninja!”

Instantly, the mechs scattered. As Hence pulled back, Cole got his first glimpse of their foe.

A twelve-foot-tall bipedal mech, shaped like a swordfish, firing blanks in the air from its fist. With those blanks, innocent fish were being ejected from compartments Cole couldn’t see, flying into the air with fins flailing. From his vantage point, their landings couldn’t be seen, and he hoped that it wasn’t as unpleasant for them as it looked.

In the cockpit, the other Garmadon roared with glee. He was the same as Cole remembered, with four arms and a penchant for black and purple. The cackling didn’t stop, even when the mech was suddenly struck by a projectile.

Hence swerved around a building just as a poor, innocent fish came flying at them. “Time to rock ‘n’ roll,” he joked, throwing on a new disc so “The Weekend Whip” blared from his oversized speakers.

The fish was vibrating to the music, and Cole clapped his hands over his ears. He had to shout over the din.

“Hence! How are you not deaf? Turn that down!”

“No can do!” Hence called out. “Sorry!”

Through the noise, Cole heard Lloyd’s– no, Green’s– voice over his comm. “Red, fend off the fish!”

Kai’s voice responded immediately. “Got it.”

“Cyan, keep the canals clear!”

A loud splash preceded Nya’s reply, along with indeterminate yelling and threats Cole could barely make out over their connection. “Loud and clear, Green!”

“White. Start working on a wall between Garmadon and Ninjago City Tower.”

“I am a cool, calm, and collected teen.” A white pyramid-shaped mech drove past, shedding ice crystals and snow, and Cole got a split-second view of Zane’s electric blue eyes.

Lloyd kept calling out instructions, directing the Ninja, and Cole watched in growing confusion as the scene before him descended into organized chaos. The Secret Ninja were good at controlling the environment, acting before reacting most of the time, and their teamwork was excellent. This world’s Lloyd was good at giving orders and expected that his teammates would follow them.

When that day came, it would be a welcome change in Cole’s own world…

Nostalgia, homesickness and overwhelm warred within him, but the final outcome was nausea.

“Hence,” he shouted over the music, “let me out! I’m gonna be sick!”

“What? Now?!” Hence expertly directed one mech arm at an enemy car, blasting it with a pile of dirt. “We’re in the middle of battle!”

“You don’t want my vomit in your cockpit, the smell will never come out!”

Hence groaned, back to a shadow of his moody self. “Fine! Can you get out without me stopping in the middle of the road? Maybe with your spin-something?”

Cole pushed to the front of the cockpit. Hence opened a narrow door where he managed to force his way out, gaining purchase on the outer panels. “Don’t change anything!”

On the outside, everything moved faster…

He swallowed bile and prepared to leap.

Three…

two…

one…

The world became a blur as he launched himself into the familiar, practiced motions of Spinjitzu, tinged with orange and gold. Cole heard himself shouting his battle cry. “Ninja-GO!”

He landed with continued motion, rolling to his feet amid enemy soldiers. He directed it into a roundhouse kick, expertly landing on one opponent’s abdomen, throwing him back and onto the ground.

The others yelled in surprise, or maybe rage, and Cole was beset with at least four of them– two were easily handled through Spinjitzu, a third with a single punch.

The fourth was blasted back by a soundwave, loud enough that Cole’s teeth rattled in his jaw.

The comms crackled. “Hey, fake Black Ninja! Don’t get yourself killed!”

Cole scowled, massaging his face. “Don’t call me that, Hence.”

“Don’t call me that,” Hence parroted. “I’m Black, and we’ve got nothing else to call you.”

“Well, I don’t know!” He looked around, then at himself and at his uniform, with its stripe of bold color around the chest. “I guess you can call me Orange?”

“Fine with me– watch out!”

Cole wheeled, and a moment later, strafed out of the way of a large sword.

A sword with a crossguard made of… sashimi?

More importantly, it was held by a mech decorated with sushi, piloted by a cackling, gloating woman who looked very pleased with herself.

Secretly, Cole wished these teens were older and less impressionable, so he could say something rude and possibly vulgar. Instead of doing so out loud, he threw out the best taunt he could think of in a rush. “Your tactics are a little fishy!”

He was rewarded with another swing of the giant sword. One well-timed jump threw him onto the blade, and he held on for dear life as the mech driver swung it again. “Get off!”

Cole laughed, and as soon as she raised it, he dropped down into the driver’s compartment.

A minute’s struggle ensued, with Cole coming out the victor and the driver being thrown out of the compartment. He caught her with one of the mech’s hands and set her on the ground fairly gently. “Thanks for the ride, but I gotta roll!”

She shouted something and ran for the ladder on one leg, but he backed off and turned to run down the street, sashimi sword in hand.

“Nice going, Orange! Head for Ninjago City Tower,” Hence commented, pointing with his mech’s arm at a particularly tall and isolated skyscraper. “Garmadon’s trying to get to the top.”

“Why? What does he get out of that?”

“He takes over Ninjago City.”

Cole stopped in his umami-flavored tracks.

He turned around, staring at Hence as he stopped his unicycle mech in front of Cole’s new two-legged ride.

“What?” Hence– no, Black– looked around. “What’s wrong?”

“He takes over the city?!”

“Yeah?” Hence sounded like he thought Cole was looking at something. “What’s so strange about that?”

“Your city is controlled by whoever is on top of a single skyscraper?!”

“Yours isn’t?”

“No?!” Cole laughed, almost too flabbergasted to speak. “Wh– Of course not! That’s crazy. This whole place is nuts!”

Hence shrugged, driving past him and down the street. “Look, you can tell me all about how weird my world is after we handle Garmadon. Sound good?”

There was nothing to do but follow him. “Sure. Whatever. You’re all crazy.”

Hence laughed, and despite how Cole felt like he was going insane, it was a comforting sound, even encouraging.

Maybe this version of him was happier than he’d been at the same age. Whether he was truly happy was another question… but there was hope.

There was still a battle to fight, even if it was one of the weirdest battles he’d fought in a very long time, and Cole was optimistic that the kids would be alright.

#ninjago #ninjago cole #cole brookstone #ninjago fanfiction #OLST fanfic #OLST writing #ninjago fic fest #tlnm #the lego ninjago movie #dragons rising #ninjago dragons rising #crossover AU

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doberbutts · 1 year ago

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I think it's also wild the way people assume the stealth experience is roses and butterflies. I went stealth+DL about being gay for about 2 years at work in order to be able to work in a trade where people generally skew extremely homophobic/transphobic/misogynistic. I had been on T long enough to pass reliably so I thought, ok, cool, this is where my life as a Normal Guy kicks in, this is where I get to flex the old Male Privilege and work in an industry culture that is toxic to everyone but cishet men.

and I mean yeah, materially? I did okay in my profession, I was good at what I did. People were pretty chill to me because my only major flaw to them was being the New Kid, a problem that eased with time. I did have a female coworker who I learned dealt with some hazing that I didn't. I will say, in that particular situation, I had some privilege over her since my sexist coworkers never said anything to me the way they said shit to her.

but here's the thing - I still heard all of it. The gross misogynistic things they were saying were not meant to be about me, but they sure as hell were anyway.

but oh, boo hoo, I had to hear remarks, but you know, I didn't face any actual barriers or opposition right? yeah, okay, I guess not, and I'm not saying it would have been better to be out in this scenario, or to be a woman, but there's a reason I ended up leaving that field. walking into work and feeling like - no, knowing - you have to lie to all your coworkers and your boss every single day or else they'll hate you and treat you like shit is not a great feeling. you never have a truly good day when that is always at the back of your mind no matter what. you never develop genuine friendships or connections at work if they're all built on lies.

I ended up getting so burned out. it was a good job, a union job, and I was making a good income. I had a path upwards to make *great* income if I had stuck with it long-term. but I ended up leaving it for a non-union job at a younger company, with a more "hip" HR culture that seemed like maybe I would be in a better place emotionally. I took a pay cut to do that too. but a lot of my new coworkers had the same attitudes as my old ones - the first week I was there, one of the other employees went around the shop asking each person, "if Kylie Jenner was trans, as in, used to be a man, would you still fuck her?" and most people, including the fucking foreman, said "fuck no." I ended up saying something like "it makes no difference to me, sure, fine, she's not my type anyway" (having to not reveal I was trans and also not reveal that I prefer men), and right in that moment I realized this wouldn't be a place I could be open either, and it would feel the same as the old place.

so the burnout for that job came much quicker. I quit after only a couple of months. I did actually end up telling the HR manager why, given that this company actually had one, but she was the only person at the job who ever knew I was trans (since she saw it on my background check anyway).

so yeah like, being stealth at work? it's not a privilege. it's a defense mechanism, and it feels like shit. you feel every transphobic and misogynistic barb even if it's not meant for you. one could argue that I would have never even been able to get those jobs if I were out, and yeah, maybe, that's possible, but I had female coworkers at both places. And yeah, one could also argue that, in terms of pay, I was likely doing better than my female coworkers. And you might be right about that if I hadn't gotten burnt out and quit before having a chance to build up any kind of seniority. But instead I took pay cut after pay cut until I finally decided to put my life in full reverse and go back to college - where I had struggled severely due to mental illness, and still do - since trades were clearly not the place for me.

I'm just really sick of people who have never actually lived what it's like to have that "male privilege" of being a stealth trans man deciding it's just the great, most ideal way you can exist as a trans person. I'm sure there are some stealth trans men who were able to adapt to that environment that I wasn't. but at what fucking cost?

I have a friend who worked a military job training the bomb dogs. He is 100% stealth to the point where even people who know, who have seen him naked and even had sex with him, often forget that he's transgender and why he has that barrier of access to some things if he wants to remain stealth.

The type of shit that people would just. Say to him. And he was always having to balance saying something or keeping quiet so as not to draw too much attention to his status as transgender. He was provided room and board by his job and thus lived with 5-6 similarly aged cis men in the same house and the amount of dodging them and biting his tongue he had to do to just to survive... And the job wouldn't be chill if they found out, the talk he'd heard made it very clear that he was at all times operating with a noose around his neck ready to tighten at the very first infraction.

Anyway that's what passing privilege is. Is your life somewhat better because you pass well enough that no one questions you? I mean I guess technically. But what happens in the mean time to your mental health? Having to hide large aspects of yourself and constantly worrying and looking over your shoulder to make sure no one is looking too hard at your hips or your hands or your chest. My friend is post-op. He's "done", so to speak, outside of taking testosterone. And yet this was still something he had to keep in mind.

He ended up leaving that job due to some Stupid Workplace Bullshit unrelated to his gender status but he told me that honestly it was also a huge sigh of relief. The money he got was great but it was corroding his soul to stay. He ended up taking a pay cut and working elsewhere that he is still stealth but no longer feels like he's got an axe to his neck in every interaction.

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horizon-verizon · 5 months ago

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Idk if this has been said before so forgive me in advance if I'm repeating a take, but I think it's pretty tone deaf to use deleted scenes of s1 to argue about the writing for s2.

For instance "Rhaenyra 'begged' Daemon to remain by her side". The scene from the original trailer was different to the one we saw in the actual episode. In the trailer, Rhaenyra gave the impression she was aware of the Greens as a threat, whereas in the actual episode her request came off more as seeking out an old love - given they had also slept together in the driftmark episode (You and I were always meant to burn together) That scene was more emotional than a politically strategic one.

Similarly to Daemon / his daughters. In the show, there's little affection from him. One might even make the argument he's almost indifferent to them. Adding how his marriage with Laena was.... it doesn't help making the picture any better.

So using a single picture from a deleted scene where daemon hugged his daughters to argue that he does in fact love them is pretty useless. Did it happen in the actual show? No. So we might as well not pretend it did.

The reason I'm saying this is because I see so many people using scene A (daemyra) as an argument again the "I can't trust you daemon" dialogue from s2 - nevermind daemon had given numerous of reason for rhaenyra to not trust him (the brothel alone is enough imo) and scene B (daemon [not] being absent father) to ague against Baela saying she hates him.

The writing is barely trying to keep up consistency with what they came up with for s1 and fans still try to argue about these deleted scenes being important for the narrative. I'm quite confident these scenes have been dismissed by the writers. They're not canon even for show-verse

Anon talks abt this post.

*7/14/24* I guess we could argue that Rhaenyra was more trying to address his tendency to leave her when things get too hard by accusing him of cold ambition (as an expression from the fear that he only wants her for power since he didn't bother to help her out at least 2x before, so this is her taking an opportunity to draw him into it and express that fear)...again, this doesn't make much sense when this show has made us believe that they had rather very peaceful and happy and fulfilled days on Dragonstone from S1 E8! This is a pre-marriage argument or at least an argument had either before Rhaenyra proposes to him--thus the argument is her confronting him before she ties herself to him--OR it's had in the first two years when he does something nasty or sus and she confronts him. It's not an argument that one has 6 years after marriage and raising 6 children and seemingly completely satisfied with one's partner WITHOUT HAVING ALREADY WRITTEN MULTIPLE SCENES SHOWING/ESTABLISHING SOMETHING LIKE A MISUNDERSTANDING THAT HOLDS A LOT OF TENSION BETWEEN THEM BEFORE THIS ARGUMENT! It should have been built into to make any modicum of sense. *END*

....................................................................................

I've never even watch the trailer you're speaking about, anon.

I have recorded the episode's conversation, subtitles and all, and cut out unnecessary stuff for the flow:

All Rights got to Max/HBOMax/HBO, this video is not mine!!!!

We have Rhaenyra say that the sea offers an escape and that fire is a prison, then she tells Daemon:

"I need you uncle. I cannot face the greens alone. Let us bind our blood just as Aegon the Conqueror did with his sisters. With you as my husband and prince consort, my claim would not be so easily challenged. The Velaryons are of the sea, but you and I are made of fire. We have always been meant to burn together."

RED for politics, or words that could be more argued as such

BLACK for "pure" love/desire, or words that could be more argued as such

PINK for a mish-mash, intertwined thing--most likely

..................................................................

Show!Rhaenyra point blank says that she can't face the greens alone and mentions her claim needing and will become more protected with him by her side in the actual episode. So while I am ignorant of whatever trailer you mean, I don't see how she isn't also trying to enlist him for herself as she is also trying to have him as a bonafide romantic partner/husband?

..................................................................

Here's the other thing....Epi 10 Rhaenyra was a travesty. And no the brothel scene is not actually enough for the kind of distrust she should have for him.

I know for some Epi 10 was their favorite episode or at least really good. That Rhaenys seems wise bc the whole ethical standard here is no violence for the sake of human life and prevent war at all costs or seems to be. But:

most of the characters of the blacks we know, inclu. show!Rhaenys, tie and time again have shown a lack of care for humans life just for human life sake (beast beneath the boards...if Rhaenys cared all that much she would do all she could to not kill even peasants or "sacrifice" so many...therefore she is not even compassionately "wise" as some figure her show!self to be). I think of her alone bc this is the character people say has the "right idea" of things

Rhaenyra was actually considering giving up the throne when Viserys entrusted her and not the rapist, profligate, excess-loving, much more selfish Aegon with the prophecy...and for a very good reason when he could have doe otherwise when Aegon lived with him since birth and she was at Dragonstone for a bit...and no, do we actually think Aegon would take such a thing seriously NOW of all times without Viserys there and his desire to not responsibly rule?! Much too late.

this is not a world where Rhaenyra or her family would be totally safe from the greens IF one argues what many green stans argued abt Alicentr having good reason to attack and try to diminish Rhaenyra's power at court--fear of other agents using Rhaenyra's kids against Otto and the greens since they do have their own claims....Aegon has less/no claim bc no one swore oaths to him and the lords were much more concerned with how Rhaenyra's claim would benefit their own interests in maintaining the safety of their designated heirs -> thus the greens were much safer with Rhaneyra as Queen than her and her family were under Aegon as King, esp with how jealous he and his brothers were

Daemon was not preparing to go to any sort of war without her say so; he protested that they weren't going to at least try to defend the castle [she she was laboring] AND that she would even think to give it up, which I already described was not-so-smart bc of the above except the prophecy bit

Lucerys' death was supposed to be the actual straw that broke the camel's back to usher in the war. Hello, kinslaying is a huge taboo?!!!! And all of it is just swept under the rug for Jaehaerys' death as if that is the first wrong done and why the war happens! Envoyship!!! This is her son, her "sweet boy"! The heir to Driftmark and to the Velaryon seat. Yes she says that she would never want "Helaena of all people" to go through what she goes through...but that is an emotional matter and not the political one that she brings up as her main reason to distrust Daemon or to accuse him of intentionally wanting Jaehaerys' head in case he can't get Aemond's. She was never with him with the idea of his "neutral" morality.

Instead, in order for the showrunners to recreate a "moral" female character, they remove all the fire and passion she had for her family and her family only to make her an inactive pacifist who cries at a page from a "friend" giving her a page about a female conqueror but has abused her and endangered said children for at least 10 years in their own home. Even the most patient person can't be expected to take all that and not want to defy/punish/use all their strength to flout that entity that is absolutely out to get them and theirs. Male characters can be absolutely insane, sexually deviant/perverted, or just self concerned (Robb Stark, Tywin Lannister, Ned Stark, Oberyn Martell, Tyrion Lannister, Jaime Lannister). etc....but for female characters we draw the line at her looking towards her self interests?

Apart from that, the character of Rhaenyra of season 2 episode 2 doesn't jive with her season 7-8 selves. It's not that I think she should totally accept child-murder as a necessity, or a trivial consequence of the game, or that show-wise she would. So much as I'm not sure how they expect me to believe that she'd think that:

Daemon would go buck wild and go against what he knew would be her wishes when he's already been shown to not want to rule from the very beginning and it's literally been six years of seemingly peaceable married life and two kids later

so much as she questions whether or not he intends to rule through her or use her up -- his actual political priorities concerning if he wants to rule…

she'd have so many detractors (as she seems to think) from her cause after being accused of having Jaehaerys murdered in this society when Aemond killed Lucerys -- esp without sufficient sort of contextual scene to show why she feels this way --

nevermind daemon had given numerous of reason for rhaenyra to not trust him (the brothel alone is enough imo)

Rhaenyra accepted Daemon's "darkness" as soon as she asked him to marry her, and especially when she absolutely knows him capable - willing of killing Laenor if she asked for that ion S1 E7. Because she is and always has been aware of how that darkness is not intended for those he holds dear. She knows (or at least is supposed to) who he is and what he's about, at least that is what they wrote and showed us. Daemon here is also fine with the prospect of just letting Laenor leave...bc he helps her do that.

AND, most importantly, she seemed fine and very aware of the effects of the rumors of her killing Laenor for her reputation bc it built that public trepidation she accepted:

R: This will cost Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys their only remaining child. And the realm will whisper that I was somehow responsible for it. D: Let them whisper. We will know the truth of it and out enemies won't. R: They will fear what else we might be capable of.

She still wanted to marry him of all people bc she trusted he would do a lot for her and do it as well as he can, throw himself into it. So when she says she wants Aemond Targaryen in full public ear to her council and she walks off still bedraggled from her flights she would know he heard that and would take some from of action and she implicitly understands that he will. So for her to distrust that he is not doing as he always said he was doing--do as she asks and not really intending go beyond that--then yes I am very confused why they are even together the way they wrote it.

If Rhaenyra is more politically conscious and is truly looking out more for her kids and for her own claims, she would have thought throughly about Daemon's role and possible disadvantages of him being with her, bring up why he left her, and throughly (not just in one night before sex) go over why he brought her down there in the first place instead of leave that question unanswered until its' pretty much too late and they have 2 sons on their own.

If she had any more substantial issues of where he stood in terms of politics even after she challenged him back in episodes 2 AND he left her be at the brothel when he could have just continued...why bring them up now and not before they marry?! Before she makes him a part of her household and be around the children he's supposed to fight the claims for?

If they show & say that Rhaenyra has such a strong mother's instinct to protect her kids form literally anyone...are they saying that she doesn't include Daemon in that?! Are they trying to say that she is so impractical as they also say she is a quick thinker (the aftermath of Vhagar claim, Aemond's eye, Rhaenyra v Alicent in trying to avoid-inflict punishment for their sons) or a good planner (Laenor-death plan)? Or are they saying she is so abused she cannot think towards her children's safety at the very least?

This also presents us questions on how the hell she managed to actually rule Dragonstone and be as calm and happy as the show itself presented to us back in episode 8 if Daemon actually was as distrustful, scary, disruptive under her home and authority in all the 6 years they've been together.

So to lightly bring back your words but in a different way/meaning:

Did it [Daemon being untrustworthy bc of x, y, z while living with her and her sons] happen in the actual show? No. So we might as well not pretend it did.

If you are going to say that he really and constantly did shit that made her develop a resentful distrust of him throughout their marriage, then you need to show that, not tell it during an argument and expect people to believe that if they already are to projecting their thoughts about Daemon only being w/Rhaenyra for the power onto the scene or, as Sara Hess does, insert their nonreading compunctions about Daemon into the writing. Otherwise we're running on assumptions that themselves do not explain how this event connects to the s1 epi8 events of them very easily and casually presenting a united front, Daemon not necessarily being lead by the nose but truly agreeing and following her lead in many instances, etc. etc. that all convey a relationship of sincere trust b/t them?

And this is another reason why I simply do not care for episode 10 bc yes the choking scene is both an inconsistency as well as butchering a female character--both the female character of the show AND who Rhaenyra seemed to be from the book. They're not selling domestic abuse very well so much as using some of the audience's assumption of it happening to justify the inconsistency. DV/DA seems to be more a plot device meant to easily explain Daemyra to non-toxic ship loving people. And no DV and DA are just abusive, not "toxic" (which is why I constantly ask what people mean when they say something is toxic).

We might be riding a thin line here, but my issue is not that I think she distrusts Daemon's willingness to measure his desires/impulses against his priorities at the right time and place so much as it's not enough to use the brothel scene to explain away all the implied contradictions coming from them not bothering to write out scenes instead of the many time jumps.

#asoiaf asks to me #hotd writing #hotd comment #fandom commentary #fandom critical #hotd fandom #hotd episode 7 #daemyra #rhaenyra and daemon #hotd s2 epi2 #hotd videos #asoiaf videos #hotd inconsistencies #rhaenyra's characcterization #daemon's characterization #hotd critical #hotd characterization #asoiaf #hotd

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en-scribed · 6 months ago

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GATHERER OF GRAIN [fantasy short story]

Personified immortal Stars have lived secretly on Earth throughout history. This piece takes place in 14th century Al-Andalus, so Arabic star names are used as the main roots. Sunbulah (currently the Star Spica) has to save one of her patients while keeping both of their deadly secrets under wraps. The Stars' world was created by myself and @heirmyst. Previous post: [THE THREE BIRDS] [ORION'S FINEST] Next post: [CENTER OF THE WORLD] Word count: 8,746

Sunbulah practically ripped open the letter as soon as she got a moment free, green fire ready to spring from her fingerprints from the excitement.

Sunbulah, it read, Mortals are idiots.

Another sunrise, another civil war threatens to take this so-called great city. This time it has brought a plague with it, weeding out people left and right. You would think this would be an inconvenient time to threaten upheaval. Unfortunately, you are intelligent and possess a working mind, far more than can be said for any of them.

I would ask how you are doing, but given how much that question trips you up, I will ask what you are doing instead. How, exactly, have you been lighting up the hospital this past moon? Let me guess, there is—

Her voracious reading stopped short in the middle of the sentence when she smelled burning. Again.

She stood, toppling too many of her herbal supplies in her rush to calm the source of the fire. Sticking her hand into the flame, she found the drenched wooden core beneath and grasped it. Slowly, but surely, the flames tilted toward her, having found a like-built entity. They settled into her hand and left only a charred stub of wood behind.

Sunbulah breathed a sigh of relief. Crisis averted.

The door burst open with a kick. “Where is the sandalwood?”

She jumped, startled, stepping swiftly in front of the now useless stub. “Head physician Masarra!” She tried to laugh, but its shakiness betrayed her. “How timely of you to bring up sandalwood… you see, the tree it comes from—”

“I have no time for your nonsense experiments, Sunbulah,” he cut in. He smoothed back his frazzled hair and lunged toward the table before she could stop him. “Give me the—!” He froze, staring at the offending table, his hands splayed on its surface. “What…?”

“It’s my… nonsense experiments,” she said, unable to keep the bitterness from the last words. “I promise it’s alright, we can do without the sandalwood! I’ll mix you something else for… whatever you’re dealing with.”

“Whatever I’m…?” He blinked, incredulous. “Woman, have you been around a single person these days?”

“No?” she said, getting impatient. Masarra knew full well that she only ever spoke with him, and that she kept correspondence solely with her lover all the way in Byzantium. “That was the deal, remember? Are you telling me what your patient needs, or should I take a guess and cook up a surprise for them?”

His ire, instead of comically growing like she expected, dissipated instantly as he rubbed his temples, defeated. Sunbulah began to worry. It was never a good sign if even the head physician had given in to hopelessness.

“Better to show you instead,” he said finally, walking back to the door. “Come.”

She blinked, confused at the conversation apparently having left her expertise. “But I’m not supposed to leave the—”

“Sunbulah, I beg of you,” Masarra said wearily, clearly not in the mood for arguing. “Do not make this harder than it is.”

Swallowing her boiling questions, she fell into step behind him.

The first thing to strike her when she took her first step outside into the hospital ward was the smell. Her apothecary cabin’s eclectic scents of wood, herbs, and the occasional fire gave way to rank, putrid air.

Then, she saw the patients on the beds.

They writhed, crying out with pain as the physicians worked to soothe their viscous blisters. Some retched into ready buckets. Even from afar, Sunbulah saw that many had fingers blackened, their flesh rotting. Hadn’t Arc mentioned Byzantium’s ongoing brush with an inconceivable epidemic? How had it made its way to Granada?

“Since when?” Sunbulah could only ask.

“Wake up!” he snapped, a little too affronted considering he was the first to suggest her permanent lodging in the apothecary. “The stars have cursed us and God wants us to repent.”

Sunbulah made a face. As if the situation wasn’t unpleasant enough, he had to bring up astrology. “God, maybe, but what do Stars have to do with this?”

“Put your faithless sacrilege aside for once. There is a plague!”

“Well then, this is where we part ways!” she bit back. “I presume there’s no good studying any plants in a plague-stricken land.”

He gaped at her in open mouthed disbelief. “You’d take flight from our sick frontier now of all times? Are the plants your only concern?”

“Yes!” she said, throwing up her hands in frustration. “That’s why you keep me here! Where did the sudden high ground come from?”

Masarra, ignoring her, ran toward a bed. He sank to his knees next to it and began to clean the infected hand of the young girl laying there, muttering words Sunbulah couldn’t hear.

Tentatively, she stepped closer, and everything she intended to ask Masarra died in her throat. The girl was sobbing quietly, her face caked in grime, but she couldn’t even lift a hand to wipe it off. She was so small, bursting with potential for growth like a fresh flower… and this disease had wilted all of that out of her.

Without thinking, Sunbulah imbued her hand with subtle, cleansing light.

She touched the girl’s face, willing the mess away just as she routinely brought life back to flower petals. Wide brown eyes opened fully to stare at Sunbulah, equal parts awed and confused.

Sunbulah made the effort to smile, remembering Masarra’s lectures on the importance of gentle bedside manner. She’d always scoffed, in disbelief that Masarra had a gentle bone in his body, but here, she had to put her absolute best foot forward.

“You are small, frail, and painfully mortal,” she said. “Understand this to be true.”

The girl blinked, surprised. Masarra turned on Sunbulah, eye twitching with rage. “How dare—?”

“Thank you?” The girl forced out the words, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Finally, someone’s honest.”

Sunbulah laughed. “I say this so you can appreciate just how incredible it is that you’ve survived the affliction to this point. Give yourself credit, friend, you’re firmly rooted, and you have tough enough bark that has let you weather the storm for this long.”

The corner of her mouth quirked slightly. “I’m a tree?”

Sunbulah reached once more to push back the girl’s dirty hair, before Masarra caught her arm. She braced herself for admonishment, but he was still on his knees, looking up at her with urgent, piercing eyes.

“Save her,” he whispered. “Your herb knowledge is unmatched. Pay your dues to this land. Take up physician duty and save my daughter.”

“Your—?” She looked between the two of them. Of course. Now that the girl’s strikingly sharp eyes and sloping nose weren’t completely obscured, there was no denying the relation.

His expression made it clear there was no room for refusal; she could not take flight from this if she wanted to. But if Masarra expected a promise, or invocations of God, or whatever his idea of acceptable responses involved, he wouldn’t get them. Not from her.

“I’ll give everything I can,” she said instead.

The child, whose name Sunbulah learned was Hadija, was washed up in the pool promptly. On Masarra’s orders, she and her trunk of essentials were moved into her own ward, which just happened to be Sunbulah’s own apothecary room. As hard as Sunbulah tried to fight this, Masarra was adamant that the hospital was overflowing already.

Masarra shadowed her anxiously for the first several hours, and only left begrudgingly for work. Truthfully, this worried Sunbulah; on ordinary occasions, she could trust him to be fastidious with not catching the plague himself, but he was too close to this one. She savored the few minutes she’d get without his frantic input.

Hadija blinked in and out of consciousness, always starting her waking spells by hurling into a container. Sunbulah swiftly grew accustomed to handling it.

She stroked Hadija’s back through the last heaves and peered over the rim of the bucket. Predictably, a crude shade of a rejected diet accumulated over a good few days was inside. Except this time, it was marbled with ribbons of red. “Blood,” she noted. “Not good. Are you squeamish?”

Hadija gave her that slight muscle movement that passed for a smile in her condition. “I can’t exactly afford to be.”

“Point taken. Well, unbalanced as your humors are, I do need to reach inside you to fix this,” she said. Hadija, unfazed, only nodded, and Sunbulah took that as her cue. “Hold still.”

Carefully, she propped Hadija up and lifted her sticky, sweat stained shirt from her back. Keeping one hand to hold her steady, Sunbulah reached for a fine blade from the table and cut into a spot of clean skin. Then, quick as light, she grabbed a cup and placed its rim on the incision. Little by little, blood rose into the cup. Sunbulah counted the seconds. Hadija’s heart began to quicken. Sunbulah released the cup.

“It’s done,” she said quietly, guiding Hadija back to the soft mattress.

“Wait,” the girl said, with a hesitant crack in her voice. “Can you… get my trunk?”

Sunbulah arched an eyebrow. It was an odd request, but she complied, keeping her senses sharp in case whatever was inside would give Masarra more cause to yell at her. She creaked open the lid cautiously. Inside, placed gently on top of all the extra clothes and essentials, were hand-stitched dolls.

“The one in white,” Hadija said softly.

Relaxing, Sunbulah handed the doll to Hadija and laid her against the pillow. “Rest now.”

She barely had to say it. The girl had already blinked back into painful unconsciousness before Sunbulah had finished her sentence.

Sunbulah stepped away from the bed and crossed the room to sit at her desk. In her palm, she summoned a steady flame near the cup, scrutinizing the blood. Like studying a blighted plant, she told herself, knowing full well it wasn’t like that at all. There was precious little in plants that Sunbulah couldn’t fix with a wave of her hand and a redirection of light, short of complete cremation.

Humans, with their numerous interlocking systems and frustrating lack of receptors to light, were more complicated. It was grossly inefficient to heal them only secondhand through plants and changes to living conditions. Why couldn’t she directly forcefeed some light to Hadija and—?

Something bright inside the cup of blood caught her eye. A reflection of her flame, Sunbulah told herself, snuffing it out so it didn’t disrupt her observation.

She put the cup down near the table’s edge, lowering her head to its level.

Unblinking, she stared the sample down, not daring to touch it for fear of driving off the answer she needed. Just as she was about to give up and reach for her supplies… the spot of light returned. Its white glow was stark against the blood, impossible to mistake for Sunbulah’s green Star fire.

She stifled a gasp as more little white flames emerged, floating in the liquid as if trying to burn the disease out of existence. This girl didn’t just have her mortal bodily system fighting the plague; purifying fire, a generations-old gift from the Stars, ran through her veins.

Hadija was a witch.

At the least convenient time possible, Masarra burst in, yelling, “Have you done anything of use?”

Sunbulah swiftly hid the cup and shushed him, tilting her head in the direction of Hadija, curled up in bed. “Her sleeping is out of balance as is,” she whispered. “At least let her have the few scraps she can manage.”

He stood up straight, his arms crossed. “Watch your tone, Sunbulah,” he said, quieter but with no shortage of his usual displeasure. “She’s still my daughter.”

“Your daughter who has a week to live, remember?”

“Don’t mock me, woman. If you want to live, you have no choice but to ensure her survival!”

Sunbulah bit her tongue. It was odd, how quickly he discarded all the rhetoric about the plague as God’s punishment once it affected his own. “Listen,” she said wearily, “you don’t have the slightest clue what she’s going through. If you did, you’d have taken care of it without asking for more than a few herbs from me. You’ve already tacitly admitted I’m right for the job, so would it kill your pride to hand the reins over to me?”

“My pride is not the matter at stake and you know it,” he said coolly, striding forward and pressing the crate shut. “You are a liability. Skilled in one area, granted, but a careless accident waiting to happen regardless. I don’t intend to put my child in harm’s way. From you, or the plague.”

She looked away, mortified, fighting to keep her face stable. It was less the man himself and more who he reminded her of that threatened to expose a nerve; hadn’t she heard almost that exact combination of words from the sun king Sol, numerous times? The last thing she wanted to do was prove him right.

Composing herself, she gathered the courage to say the next words. “Then you’ll be happy to know I’ll be out of the hospital for a few days.”

“Out of the question!” he sputtered. “Your insubordination is reaching untold limits! The arrangement—”

“Is rendered moot now that her life is in our hands, no?” she said, not looking for an answer. “I’ve run out of the most crucial supplies, and I intend to leave no stone unturned.”

He stepped forward, close enough to remind her that he towered over her considerably in height. He, a mere human, posed no threat to her physically, but the way he glared down at her was enough to make her freeze in place; this was not the first time she’d served a taller man with the intense disapproving glint in his eyes, and in the moment, it did not matter that Masarra was nowhere close to Sol in terms of power. Still, she didn’t break her gaze, even as her knees began to tremble.

Giving in, he sighed. “For your own good, you cannot leave. I’ll see what I can do about your supplies, but you need to stay put.”

Unbelievable. “You’ll trust me with her life, but not with a trip outside,” she said flatly. “You’re the smartest man in this hospital, and even so I wonder if you hear yourself sometimes.”

He rolled his eyes. “Come now, you always blow everything ridiculously out of proportion…”

Masarra, to his credit, left quietly as smoothly as he entered, but not without casting a few warning glares at Sunbulah. He would return without warning like he always had. He hadn’t forgotten he was technically her superior; it had simply been put aside when Sunbulah became the only one he could rely on.

Hadija stirred in her sleep, and Sunbulah let herself breathe; at least the argument didn’t wake her up.

She sank into her chair, frustrated, angry, and at a loss to whatever to do next; she’d never truly been in a position where safety or restraint were high priorities. Now, there was the balancing act of curing this child under her care without giving any indication that anything unusual marked either of them. She reached for Arc’s letter and read through the rest of it; civil wars, building fortification… he was out there doing things, while she wasn’t even given the liberty of leaving this one room.

This would be when she rummaged through her stock and experimented, but she was out of every herb that would be safe to expose in front of a dying child.

So, she did the next best thing; she grabbed her quill and started a new letter.

Arcturus, always the entirely figurative light of my life,

You know I say this with the utmost affection in my heart, but how in the skies do you expect me to believe your distaste for the mortals when you diligently guard their every edifice? If you despise them that much, I do not see you committing.

Still, you do manage, clearly. If I can be disgustingly vulnerable for just a moment, Arc, I envy your ability to draw a sharp distinction between our worlds. How easy it is for you, to speed through time, fortifying Constantinople’s walls by day, fighting creatures of darkness by night, and always reporting well-gotten results to our king. Regimented, direct, without unnecessary flair… everything I adore about you; skies know our fellow Stars could learn a thing or two from that.

No such neat demarcation has been possible for me. The world is a forest, richly populated and crawling with interlocking life forms, all placed ahead for exploration. Decay, predation, the stubborn persistence of life; name one thing here that is constrained to one world and not the other? Mortals act as if they are the only thinking beings here, as if their pain is unique, unmarked territory. I suppose in that way, they are not so different from us. I already hear your undoubtedly furious response to the contrary.

I lose the thread; what else is new? This is all to say, the plague you mention has made it to Granada. None of my wandering studies have prepared me, and although one moment longer in this limited apothecary might eat into my mind for good, I’m not sure about my capability for the task ahead.

You are no longer my only company here, but still. Send your advice and refreshingly direct criticism my way. With love…

Hadija stirred awake. Quickly, Sunbulah signed her name, folded the letter closed, and burned the seal on it before the girl’s heavy eyes regained their faculties. Thankfully, Hadija’s first glance was at the door, then at the closed crate, and only lastly at Sunbulah.

“Was my father here?” she asked.

Sunbulah laughed bitterly. Now was as good a time as any to begin packing for the trip. “He cannot go more than an hour at a time without breaking down my door.”

She shifted uncomfortably on the bed. “Is it true? What he keeps saying?”

“About you not having long unless we work inhumanly hard? I’m afraid so.”

“Not that,” Hadija said, too flippantly for a girl speaking of her incoming death. “About… God, and punishment, and something about stars…”

Sunbulah scoffed. “You really shouldn’t take everything he says to heart. He doesn’t know as much as he thinks he does”

Clearly unconvinced, she held the doll in white close to her chest. “He knows… most things,” she argued feebly. “I just want to know what I did wrong. For this to happen.”

Putting the last of her traveling gear in her bag, Sunbulah turned her full attention to the patient. “Why would you believe you’ve done anything wrong?”

But Hadija curled deeper into the covers, preoccupying herself with the doll’s hair, and Sunbulah had no desire to disrupt that fleeting moment of comfort. So it was settled; there would be no confessions tonight.

“Well, then.” Sunbulah cupped the girl’s sunken face in her hands. “Good night.”

Just as she cleansed the girl’s face of grime before, this time, she summoned warmth in her hands, easing away the last block keeping Hadija lethargically awake. If everything went as planned, this would last longer than the short, troubled bursts of sleep she’d been suffering from. Once Masarra inevitably caught wind of Sunbulah’s escape, he could easily send someone who wasn’t a ‘liability’ to take over.

“I’ll be back,” she promised the sleeping child, slinging her bag over her shoulder and walking out.

Sunbulah counted on the staff’s fatigue, and her own subtle manipulations of light to mask her exit. When at long last she slipped out of the hospital through the back door, she was greeted with a dead, starless night. Anxiously, she rolled the letter to Arc in her hands, and had to pay special attention to make sure she didn’t accidentally burn it; given the precarity of the plague, her chances of finding a messenger were not great, but she had to hold on to this singular thread of certainty that remained hers. Sad as it sounded, she’d put her apothecary post at stake, so he was all she could count on to last the week.

She scrambled into an unassuming corner and scanned the area for onlookers. When clear, she spread her wings and took to the skies.

She repeated the three items she was out for in an oddly comforting rhythm under her breath. Oranges, hyacinths, sandalwood incense. Easy, basic, effective… and, by her calculations, the very narrow slice available to her under a strict deadline.

It was a short flight to the nearest fruit orchard. Very proud of securing her first find already, Sunbulah dived into the trees.

She moved too fast, and couldn’t stop her descent in time before she crashed through a patchwork of branches, full wingspan, latent flames and all. Her cries were lost to the stray pieces she swallowed, and she fell face-first onto the moist orchard soil.

Still, in the end, she was surrounded by a heap of fallen leaves and fresh oranges. She laughed, holding up the nearest large beauty. “I still win!”

She spoke too soon. Along with the still falling debris, a screeching bundle of feathers swooped down, piercing her find with its accursed claws and pulling hard. Determined not to lose this easily, Sunbulah held fast, fighting the eagle owl’s iron grip.

“Claws off, fiend! It’s mine!” She yanked her hand back forcefully enough to catapult the owl away. The orange was still in her hand. She cheered, but stopped short when she realized the owl hadn’t flown off.

It had fallen to the ground a few feet away. And it wasn’t moving.

Sunbulah cast the fruit aside and inched carefully toward the owl. She reached a hand forward to inspect, but when it flinched from her touch, its wing shifted ever so slightly enough to reveal an underside of charred feathers. Had she burned the poor thing on the way down?

“Oh, skies above, no…” she said softly. She gathered up the whimpering owl in her arms, using one hand to hold the wing still while the other shone a light on it from behind. Bones were broken. “I’m… so sorry.” What else was there to say?

She couldn’t fix bones as easily as stems, but she could do the next best thing. Grabbing a loose branch from the ground, she imbued it with green light, resuscitating its dead cells and growing it as she wished. Soon, it was the perfect splint to hold the wing; she grabbed some twine from her bag and tied it securely.

She glanced back at the fallen oranges. "You shouldn't really be eating these, all things considered. Why...?" She trailed off. The remaining glow of the splint gave her just enough of a view of the bird's insides to know that the liver was not in its best condition. Without further question, she rolled the oranges toward the owl. “All yours.”

Round eyes stared up at her, confused.

“You're hardly the most unusual patient I've had. And I can still fly for more fruit,” she reassured him, flapping her wings. “A little hard work has never hurt anyone.”

Satisfied, the owl began to peck at the new meal.

Sunbulah flitted between the patch of trees, scrutinizing the oranges under her green light and pocketing the ripest looking ones. Hadija couldn’t eat much under the plague, so her best bet for a healing diet was lots of citrus and water. She grew so focused on having her best pick, the blasts eluded her ears for far too long.

Shots rang out, closing in with each successive blast. Sunbulah turned, only to see a chain of violet sparks was heading right for the defenseless, feasting owl.

“No!” She darted into the line of fire, speeding up the growth of the seeds she sent below so young trucks sprang up as a barrier. She couldn’t see the owl anymore, but she heard confused hoots from behind her; he was safe.

Ahead of her, a horse’s hooves pranced forth. Riding on top of the black steed was a tall woman, glowing with violet light, eyes hard as she searched for a target. “Where did it go?”

Sunbulah stood at attention and held a flame out to greet her fellow Star. “Good evening, Aliya!”

Aliya blinked, as if trying to parse an unfamiliar presence, but then broke out into a smile. “I thought I recognized the screams from somewhere!” She dismounted, and before Sunbulah had the chance to respond, she grabbed her by the shoulders, inspecting her for damage. “No one in their right mind would be out in the woods in the dead of night. Where is the Haunting who attacked you? Are you being held as bait? Dubhe and Al-Qai’d are in the air, should I tell them to blast—”

“There was no Haunting!” Sunbulah assured her quickly. Reaching behind the tree, she let the owl climb onto her arm. “See? We were both on a hunt, and I let it have my share.”

Aliya, perking up at the word ‘hunt’, said, “Skies above, small planet, so are we! What are you out for? Did you find a Haunting hideout in this orchard? Or a place for a secret watchtower, or—”

Sunbulah held the bulging bag toward her. “Oranges!”

“Ah.” Aliya’s face fell. “And that means…?”

“Well, a diet of citrus can keep consumption clean and free of the spreading black plague. I also need hyacinth flowers and sandalwood, to ward off what’s infected my patient already, and keeping it simple is my best hope right now, because I’m actually not supposed to be out, you see. Speaking of the plague, have you been taking care of your horse’s intake lately?”

“That’s nice, dear,” Aliya said, patting Sunbulah’s shoulder, clearly having stopped listening once the conversation ceased to promise her anything. She returned to mount her horse, shooting a chain of blasts into the sky. “All clear, you two!” she yelled to the sky.

Sunbulah flinched as it burned through the topmost branches. “That’s a good portion of the yield gone.”

Aliya shrugged. “The mortals will survive.”

“Actually, they have less of a chance of that without the fruit. Because of the plague, they’ll have to make more use of the harvest than usual. Many physicians will be recommending—”

“Sunbulah,” she cut in, smiling in a way that was at odds with the tightness in her voice. “I get the picture.”

Do you? Sunbulah wanted to ask, but before she could open her mouth, two more large holes were burned into the canopy. The owl jumped, startled from the sudden entrance, and she had to hold him steady before he could hurt himself. The two Stars who were speeding downward could have simply used the hole Aliya had already made. Sunbulah decided against pointing that out.

Al-Qa’id, small, quick, and sparking with excited lightning, scanned his surroundings with a wide grin. It dissolved into a frown when he saw nothing to fight. “Where’d it go?”

“It was never here,” Aliya said. “False alarm.”

“Slippery little things,” Dubhe said, balling her fists. “This is dangerous.”

“Did something happen?” Sunbulah asked. “I mean… why the hunt?”

Dubhe and Al-Qa’id, noticing her presence for the first time, looked at her incredulously. “What rock have you been living under where the king’s alerts don’t reach you?” Al-Qa’id asked. Dubhe nudged him pointedly to shut him up.

Sunbulah’s face flushed with embarrassment. “The hospital.”

As if she needed the reminder that the king had walled her out of any tasks after she and Arc found different posts. Silence followed, only broken by the owl rubbing up against her. The three siblings seemed to carry their own silent conversation solely through knowing glances and vague gestures. Sunbulah instinctively reached for the rolled up letter in her bag. Why was there only one Star she was able to talk to without making a fool of herself?

“Tell you what,” Aliya piped up. “Since you’re out already, you might as well tag along. We’ll complete our mission and you can…” She paused. “Collect your fruits and branches?”

Dubhe made a face. “Collect what?”.

She went on, “And you can hand your letter over to Alhambra witches when we’re done! They’ll deliver it for you.”

Sunbulah snapped at attention. “There’s witches at the palace?”

“Where else would they be?” Aliya shifted on her saddle, making room for Sunbulah. “Ride with me. You must be out of practice from all that time cooped up with the sick earthlings.”

Aliya’s siblings laughed quietly at some shared joke and set off into the sky. Sunbulah's mind went a mile a minute trying to process this seemingly very simple choice. Aliya was offering her the solution to everything; a quick ride for her search, a way to Arc, and a possible path to restoring her image with the king? It was perfect.

Too perfect.

Something about where the offer came from, with Aliya’s syrupy tone and her siblings’ incomprehensible communication, put her on guard, even more than she was with the mortals she had to hide from.

Then, she remembered Hadija. Even if Sunbulah saved her life, without the Alhambra witches, she’d never know how to make sure it stayed safe. That tipped the scales to her decision.

As soon as she climbed onto the horse, it took off out of the woods.

Sunbulah positioned herself with her back against Aliya’s, growing and molding branches into a secure perch for the eagle owl. She hung it against the saddle and carefully let the bird climb off her arm. “Alright?”

The owl chirped affirmatively, with such genuine satisfaction that Sunbulah couldn’t help but laugh.

“Wouldn’t you rather cage it?” Aliya asked, a small laugh in her voice.

“He’s injured. He doesn’t need a cage, just a place to rest where he won’t die.”

“Huh,” she said, and Sunbulah sat straight up. Aliya’s tone was thoughtful, but in that maddening manner where there was no way to know what the thoughts were. “You… get a lot of practice on birds at the hospital?”

“Oh, no!” Sunbulah said, brightening. “Only humans! Sick, injured, mad, you name it!”

Aliya turned her head ever so slightly back. “You don’t say…”

“I do! Though, I don’t actually spend that much time around the patients,” she admitted. “This is my first one. The head physician will have my head if I don’t save her. And you know it’s important because he let me see her at all! Usually he wants me to never even set foot out of the apothecary. I’m not even supposed to be here now!”

“I see,” she said.

Sunbulah arched an eyebrow. “You do?”

She laughed. “Well, no. But… it’s intriguing, I suppose. You’re a Star, above this man in every sense of the word. Why are you answering to him?”

And so the horse dutifully carried them through the hills, and Sunbulah let her guard down in the face of Aliya’s questions. She had found Aliya attractive a long while back; who wouldn’t, with that winning smile and knowing glint in the deep blue eyes? That had only lasted until Aliya opened her mouth, and the million undertones to her every sweetly spoken word became too much for Sunbulah to keep up with.

But this new, genuinely curious side to Aliya? Sunbulah reveled in how intently the other Star listened; being able to give information away for once instead of relentlessly hunting it down was a treat too rare to pass by.

She was in the middle of reciting the Compendium on Simple Medicaments from memory when the smell of fresh floral goodness stopped her. “Finally!” She clambered off of the horse, stretching her fingers in preparation to dig the hyacinths free. “Aliya, can you call the others down? All four of us can work faster, and I can go back with a full stock and make Masarra eat his words!”

“Oh, Sunbulah,” Aliya said with sudden, grave sadness, pointedly not signaling for the others. “You’re brilliant. That mind of yours runs a mile a minute and accumulates so much knowledge…” The compliments began to unsettle Sunbulah. The countless layers to Aliya’s speech returned. “But you still haven’t figured it out, have you?”

Sunbulah, already on the ground with her fingers digging through the soil, didn’t dare to meet Aliya’s eyes. “Figured out what?” she asked, uncharacteristically worried that she didn’t want the answer.

“You’re not that man’s herbalist, or physician, or whatever else he’s told you,” she said evenly. “You… are his patient.”

Sunbulah breathed out a laugh. It was all some absurd build up to a joke. “Don’t be ridiculous.” Too forcefully, she released the hyacinth’s roots and yanked out the bulb. “I’m a Star. He’s never had any cause to think me sick, or injured, or—”

“Mad,” Aliya cut in, the single word carrying the force of a thick tome to the head. “Are you sure about that last one?”

She gripped the bulb tight in her fist. The deal, she wanted to protest, before remembering when he’d first found her. After she’d burned her own cabin.

She’d never assumed any intentions he hadn’t stated. Why would she?

“An easy mistake to make,” Aliya went on, undeterred. “You’ve always talked back too readily, been outright incapable of picking up the most basic conversational hints, and every thought you have leads back only to the century’s chosen obsession.” She took a breath. “And most damning of all for these humans? You take the form of a faithless woman unfit for polite society. Why do you think the physician was so adamant you never leave his sight, or interact with anyone outside of your ward? He was studying you, and he knew exactly what he was doing. You can’t aggressively explain your way out of this one, dear.”

Ward. Not even her beloved apothecary remained untouched. By now, the stalk and bulb were hot ashes in Sunbulah’s hand. “You show yourself as a woman too,” she countered weakly. “You ride a horse.”

Aliya stepped forward, wrapping her arm around Sunbulah’s shoulders. “I, unlike you, have the good sense to follow the code of conduct in my limited time around humans. It’s like the king says, hiding ourselves is not only about our powers. It’s about keeping ourselves safe.”

She stiffened, her face growing hot at the mention of Sol’s name, and lost the battle with her tears. “Don’t.”

“Sunbulah…”

“I can pick up hints.” She wrenched herself free. “None of my life ever concerned you before I foolishly gave you a weakness to pull at. Is this just one more humorous anecdote to laugh with your siblings about? Or do you plan to tell Sol? Like he needs yet another reason to lecture me, very loudly, about my conduct?”

A flash of hurt crossed Aliya’s face. Sunbulah no longer trusted it. “This is for your own good! Come to Alhambra with me and my siblings. Next time I see Arcturus, I can even—”

“Stop making yourself out to be the one saving me!” she shot back. “I didn’t need it back in the forest, I certainly don’t need it now.”

She flew off, not caring what direction as long as it was away. Tears blurred the sky ahead of her, but for the first time, she saw everything with paralyzing clarity. Not even this strand of fulfillment she’d found at the hospital had meant anything.

Taking shelter at the top of the first oak she found, she sank into the embrace of the branches and shaped herself a small nook. The warm, familiar feel of bark and leaves surrounding her brought back enough of her senses that she could let herself think again.

Which, considering her circumstances, was a huge mistake.

For once, she hated the evidence-based workings of her mind, because there truly was no way to delude herself into thinking Aliya’s ultimate conclusion was wrong. Not only was it supported by every newly tainted interaction she had with Masarra, but she was no more equipped to contest Aliya’s observations about society than Aliya would be to speak about prophetic medicine.

“Do you think I’m the problem?” she whispered idly into the branches, only daring to say it out loud because here, she wouldn’t have to hear an awkward, socially polished answer. Or any answer at all.

Wingbeats sounded nearby.

Sunbulah froze with alarm, but then she heard the screech.

Giddy with relief, she parted the leaves and began to climb. She emerged above the tree, right in time for the eagle owl to land on her outstretched arm. “You’re healed!” She marveled at the completely intact wing he was showing off. The splint was still there, but it was glowing green; not even the faintest suggestion of the deeply charred feathers remained. “I healed you? How in the skies—”

The eagle owl burbled impatiently, pecking her. Only then did she see the hyacinth stalk he was holding in his beak.

Her smile fell. She pulled the splint’s knot open. “I’m… unbelievably flattered you thought to look for me when you should have been flying free. But I don’t believe I’ll be needing this any longer.”

The eagle owl solemnly placed the bulb on a nearby nook… only to peck her arm, more forcefully this time.

Sunbulah forced her fire to not react disproportionately to the tiny attack. She settled back against the branches. “I was held at the hospital under false pretenses,” she told the bird, hating how pathetic the paper-thin cover sounded in hindsight. “Masarra thinks me mad. Sol wants me completely out of sight and mind, or I might blot the perfection of his Stardom. I’m a pitiable curiosity for Aliya and her siblings. You tell me, friend. What am I even here for?”

He hopped off her arm and retrieved the hyacinth. Then, he opened his beak, dropping the stalk.

“No!” Sunbulah scrambled after it, just barely catching it between two fingers. The bird made a repetitive, joyful noise from his throat. “I don’t know what you’re trying to prove! The only reason I was after this was for…”

Hadija, she remembered.

Even if Masarra trusting her with his daughter was as meaningless a gesture as all the easy herbalist labor he’d made Sunbulah perform… she’d disobeyed him so thoroughly. His approval was never why she was doing this, was it?

Sunbulah sat up, a lump in her throat at the thought of that little girl, fighting for her life against certain death. The girl who Sunbulah almost abandoned on a whim.

No more.

The eagle owl settled on her shoulder as she placed the stalk in her bag. “Two out of three rudimentary remedies isn’t bad, right?” she asked. “Who am I fooling, of course it’s bad! They’re rudimentary, that’s the point!”

The bird bumped against her cheek. She stroked the feathers on his soft head.

“But two is better than none, isn’t it? Thank you for everything…” She racked her brain for something to call him, when her hand found the unsent letter in her bag. She took it out and held it to her heart, deciding there really was only one name to give her prickly, refreshingly forthright new friend. “Little Arc.”

The sun peeked over the jagged horizon. Sunbulah squinted in the new light, daring the new day to throw whatever it had her way. She could take it.

The two of them left the perch of the treetop behind and took to the skies.

By the time they returned, the sun had climbed higher, but the atmosphere above the hospital was gray, more dismal than ever. Sunbulah had no more time to waste. She launched Little Arc into the air and dimmed her own light; she would enter the same way she’d left.

When she crept into the strung-out infirmary, she expected a lot more eyes out for her. In reality, that was Star-like wishful thinking. The preoccupied staff ran ragged, most stretching themselves between two or three patients by necessity; far more had come in during the night.

Sunbulah’s light flickered, threatening to reveal her in an outpouring of care. She now saw a face, a life in every suffering body there. A life no less full than her own, and certainly deserving better than being reduced to a diseased body… or mind. She vowed to never let her own immortality blind her to the value of a full life. She was a healer, whether the Stars and Masarra thought so or not.

Give yourselves to me, she wanted to beg them all. Let me help.

She chided herself for losing focus so easily. One at a time. Setting her eyes on her beloved corner room, she weaved through the crowd, a knot twisting in her heart from every single one she had to brush past.

At the end of the hall, a few men gathered outside Sunbulah’s room, Masarra at the head, barking orders as the other forced tools into the door to pry it open.

Whatever was happening, she needed to change direction.

She backed into the nearest wall, finding the nearest window with a fumbling hand and slipping out of it. Outside, she didn’t have to search for the window to her room; the homegrown climbers lining it marked it clear as day.

She sneaked inside, and was immediately met with a soft projectile launched at her face. The doll clumsily hit its target and dropped to the floor.

“Oh,” Hadija squeaked out, sitting upright on one end of the bed. “It’s you!”

Sunbulah tossed her back the doll and glanced at the large trunk, which had somehow moved just conveniently enough to barricade the door shut. “How did that get there?”

Faintly, her eyes flickered with silver light. “I moved it,” she said too quickly. “Didn’t want to get it dirty.”

“And you won’t get up to open the door for your father, because…?”

“Well, you were gone, and he would move me if he knew! Couldn’t you have…” She clapped a hand over her mouth.

Quickly, Sunbulah replaced the bucket. Then, she marched up to the blocked door. She kicked the trunk aside in a burst of strength, and flung the door open to dumbfounded men and a very stunned Masarra. “You are making the child’s rest exceptionally hard,” she said.

The rest of the men drew back, averting their gazes. Sunbulah could only imagine how she looked to them, hair scattered and eyes wild.

Masarra stood firm. “I need to see her.” And you, she could almost hear him say.

“Right now?” Sunbulah asked. “She’s vomiting into a bucket, and would really rather you don’t. Either you can stand there and mutter about retribution, or I can make her a meal and treat her tumors. Which sounds better to you?”

The man still towered above her, glaring forcefully, but made no move to push his way in. She’d won.

“Now,” she said, smiling sweetly, “Please leave my ward.”

Emphasizing those last two words, she made sure to look Masarra in the eye. Tempting as it would have been to scream at him, or watch him reckon with how she was capable of figuring it out, Sunbulah simply shut the door in his face, refusing to entertain his surveillance. She had a job to do.

At her desk, she emptied out the contents of her bag. After applying the hyacinth between Hadija’s fingers, she finally found a ripe silence to fill as she prepared the citrus meal.

“Hadija,” she said, trying to tread carefully for sensitive information. “Have you ever felt… different, from other kids growing up?”

“What?” she asked, her energy already draining.

“I mean…” She trailed off. How was she meant to make this line of questioning sound even remotely sane? “Like… something boils your blood hotter than others, and you can do things never before seen, but no one else can understand, because you barely know yourself. As if something affects you, specifically, and the flesh prison you inhabit seems to have a mind of its own?”

Hadija turned her gaze to the table, and Sunbulah could have sworn she saw a spark of panicked hope in her eyes. Just as quickly though, she breathed out a laugh. “That’s just what it’s like to be a girl.”

That made Sunbulah stop cold and absently pinch into the orange. She was an immortal Star with no inborn concept of the idea, but for the longest time, she’d considered herself a woman in every way that mattered. She’d never stopped to unpack what that meant; wasn’t it a descriptive category, no different from how a plant could be described by its bearing of seeds or spores? What was she missing?

Hadija cleared her throat painfully. “So… did you have a point?”

Sunbulah shook off her thoughts and crossed the room halfway to the bed. “Your remedies will take time.” She kneeled down to be at eye level with Hadija. “Just… take care of yourself. And if there’s anything at play here, no matter how awkward or unbelievable, you can tell me. I’m open to more than you think.”

A long silence followed. Sunbulah held a few slices of orange out, but Hadija was looking everywhere except at her.

“I didn’t move the chest myself,” she said quietly. “Or… I did. Just not in the way you think.”

Sunbulah nodded. “Go on.”

Hadija sighed deeply and pointed her hyacinth laden hand forward. A blinking white glow surrounded the slices Sunbulah was holding out. Slowly but surely, after dropping three pieces first, she managed to levitate one toward herself.

Sunbulah smiled triumphantly. “Well.”

“You can’t tell anyone!” Hadija insisted through a mouthful of orange. “Not even my father. I don’t want to end up like—”

“Like me.”

“What?” Her eyes widened. “Of course I want to be like you! You’re clever, and brilliant, and you don’t let anyone tell you what to do…”

“I’m also locked in a room I’m not allowed to leave, and generally considered too unstable to be around the decent God-fearing populace,” she added. “Work out for yourself why that is.”

Realization dawned on Hadija’s face. “But you don’t seem… that can’t be true! He must have made a mistake!”

“Even if he did, I have my own secrets. Let’s keep this one between us too.” With one wave of her hand, a stray orange seed on the ground sprouted a sapling.

For good measure, as if having smelled potential oranges from outside, Little Arc hovered outside the window, rapping at the glass with his beak. Sunbulah prepared for horror, for the evaporation of all the confidence she’d earned.

But Hadija stared at it with awe, hugging her doll close. “You can do anything.” She focused on another seed, knitting her eyebrows close, but only succeeded in burning it up and running out of breath.

Sunbulah sprang forward to catch her before she fell off the bed. They sat, Sunbulah holding Hadija the same way the girl held the doll. Both sick, with secrets that couldn’t leave the room, finding inexplicable solace in seeing even a fraction of themselves reflected in a smaller, far more perishable girl. What would become of them in this world?

“I can’t do anything,” Sunbulah admitted solemnly. “I cannot heal you, or the other people out there. I couldn’t even find all I needed to start with you. I’m out of sandalwood.”

Hadija blinked at her, the silver glow returning to her eyes. “No, you aren’t. There’s some on the table right there.”

Sunbulah laughed bitterly. “Burned. Of no use unless I can somehow bring it back to—” Her eyes wandered to the window, to Little Arc, and she grinned as an idea of the insane variety hit her. If she healed the owl’s wing by accident, surely she could undo this damage too. “Wait here.”

She placed her hand on the ashy stub, let the green light seep out of her hand… and did not falter this time. Sol, Masarra, and Aliya’s disapproving judgment all disappeared when she looked back at Hadija; the trusting gaze of a vulnerable soul under her protection was all she needed.

In a burst of light, the original block of sandalwood was not the only thing that had been restored. Somehow, she’d rooted a small tree into her table. The scent wafted through the air, grounding her success into tangible reality.

She let out a disbelieving laugh, turning back to her patient. “Now. Let’s burn it properly this time.”

Two months later, Sunbulah had treated far more than one victim of the plague, and had incidentally accumulated enough goodwill to transcend Masarra’s initial label. She and a much healthier Hadija walked into the royal fortress of Alhambra, and were met with a wonder previously conceived of only in wild imaginations—people exactly like them.

Sunbulah knew the witches they found weren’t Stars in any sense, but they laughed with her like friends, listened to her like enraptured students, and explained the workings of their world like generous hosts.

Best of all, they were all curious skeptics, asking incessant questions until they got exactly what they wanted. Her kind of people.

She took a stray leaf out of her hair, intending to show a group of women exactly how to feed light in a way that made it grow. "Like this!" Just then, she felt someone tap her shoulder.

“I see you learned how to hold a conversation,” Aliya said.

Sunbulah smiled, turning to look at her. “All I needed was people willing to listen. Strange, how hard that’s been for most I’ve met.”

Aliya didn’t smile back. “We need to talk.”

“Do we, now?” Sunbulah glanced at Hadija. The girl was sitting on nearby stairs, with a doll in one arm and Little Arc perched on the other. A few women sat around her, talking with her like they’d known each other their whole lives. She’s in good hands, Sunbulah decided, and nodded to her audience as she tossed the leaf. They descended on it, fighting for the chance to try out the spell. “Practice on your own!”

As soon as the two of them had reached the greater hall, out of earshot from the witches, Aliya said, “It surprised the king a great deal, when we were forced to report to him the news that you, of all Stars, had a more successful few moons than us combined.”

Sunbulah blinked. She hadn’t even known there was competition, let alone one she was ahead in. “But you were going on hunts. What became of that?”

Aliya snorted. “A misunderstanding. There had never been any Haunting threats.”

“Excuse me?”

“Arcturus mentioned a ‘black plague’ in his reports,” she went on. “You know how unreliable messages can get. It was hardly a leap from that wording.”

“I’d told you about the plague!” Sunbulah said incredulously. Right as it left her mouth, she realized. “You weren’t listening then, were you?”

Aliya drew in a sharp breath. “Now, don’t start lecturing me about that little mistake. Believe me, Arcturus hasn’t let me hear the end of it. I’m regretting everything that transpired already.” Before Sunbulah could decide whether or not that was an apology, Aliya shoved a paper into her hands. “For skies’ sake, tell him you’ve graciously forgiven me. It’s my only hope of staying, and my horse does not travel overseas.”

Aliya ran off to join six of her siblings at the end of the hall, leaving Sunbulah with the bizarre position of having influence over decision making.

She unrolled the letter, slowly, with a smile on her face and no flame in sight.

The desperation with which she’d always devoured Arc’s letters was absent. For once, she didn’t need to hear from him; she wanted to.

Wasn’t that, in the end, the peace of mind that had evaded her for so long?

As she read, it occurred to her that she was moving, walking back to the witches. After that, she’d be healing at the hospital, and teaching Hadija. She’d gone from being an unknowing captive to having all these like-minded souls at her behest.

If Stars ever slept, this would have to be a dream.

But since they didn’t, she had twice the time to learn more about this beautiful green planet than anyone had thought possible.

#writing #fantasy writing #short story #original character #oc #stars collapse #en writes #historical fantasy #probably my biggest swing yet. literally and figuratively #i offer you the plant lover mad scientist star #she is strange and offputting and you know what? good for her

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greatideas-badwriter · 5 months ago

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Sacrificed To The Banished Prince Ch. 29

For story-telling's sake, this chapter will have two points of view, Sakura's being first.

Enjoyyyyyyyyyyy~~~~~~

Just one day after realizing she was pregnant, Sakura was bound and taken outside of whatever place they'd been keeping her since being captured. Effectively blind with the thick cloth still covering her eyes, the woman was frantic trying to ground herself. All she could do was try to keep pressure off of her stomach as she lay in a tied up heap on the floor of what felt like a carriage.

Being radically unstudied in matters concerning procreation, she was terrified that the smallest thing would harm the baby. Every bump of their traveling caused her to tense up.

The man who'd watched over her all this time was in the carriage with her, as was the person he called "Kakuzu". The latter spoke very little, so she couldn't get a good read on his personality. They traveled for a long time. Given her inability to see and general vertigo, Sakura could only guess that it was between three days and a week.

Then, she woke up in a freezing cold room. No one else was around. At least, that was what it felt like.

Cautiously, the shivering woman felt around the ground to ensure nothing was there that would harm her bare feet. She shakily got to her feet, relieved that her ankles and wrists were no longer bound. It was her intention to feel around the room to get a better idea of her surroundings, but she could only take one step before the sound of a chain dragging stopped her in her tracks. That was when she noticed the cold weight of a shackle around her ankle. Sure, she'd been treated like a prisoner for at least a month now, probably longer, but for some reason, it was at this moment that the pink-haired woman's composure finally cracked.

Pain shot down her throat as she sobbed, tugging fruitlessly at the shackle. 'I want to go home! I want Sasuke to come get me and tell me everything will be okay!' Her breathing became short and ragged. A tremendous pressure built in Sakura's chest as she tried and failed to properly inhale. She fell to her side, curling into a ball.

'Have I not suffered enough? When will I stop being punished for simply being born?' She knew her current state wasn't healthy for the baby, but that thought only made it more difficult to calm down.

At some point, she must've fainted because the next thing she knew, she was coming to. The captors, who were now present, obviously didn't realize. They continued hushedly arguing. "Why do you give a damn what happens to her? Boss said to dispose of her once the prince is dead so there's no witnesses, anyway."

The very blood in Sakura's body ran cold as ice. 'They plan to kill Sasuke? I can't let that happen!' Someone as self-aware as her was unable to deny how useless she'd be in a fight, but that didn't stop her from mentally preparing to do whatever it took to protect the sweet prince. To her, he was her precious family. He was someone to be cherished and loved, no matter the cost.

"If you absolutely must, visit a brothel. I won't allow you to defile a pregnant woman."

"We're going to kill her anyway, Kakuzu!"

"I said no. If you try to disobey me, I'll behead you, Hidan."

Suddenly, an intense wave of nausea washed over the princess, who gagged and began struggling to sit up. While heaving, there was a shuffling sound in the room. Then, something that felt like a bucket was in the woman's hands, and she was emptying the scarce contents of her stomach into it.

The man she now knew to be called "Hidan" cursed in disgust, "Fuck.... You're right. I should just go to town for the night."

By the time Sakura's stomach finally calmed, she was sweating, trembling with chills, and breathing heavily. She fell onto her side on the concrete floor. Hidan had left at some point, likely to visit a brothel like Kakuzu suggested. A tiny part of her wanted to thank the latter for fending the violent man off, but he was also responsible for her kidnapping, so she didn't bother. She'd only be shocked by the enchanted collar anyway.

Kakuzu, who had only directly spoken to her once or twice, gruffly said, "I'll leave the bucket. Use it if you feel sick again." Then, the woman was left alone in what was probably a glorified cell. Eventually, she mustered the strength to feel around her limited space again. There was what felt, and smelled, like straw amidst the floor. A faint winter breeze was also detectable, leading her to believe they weren't in a house like before, but perhaps a barn or stable. 'I feel like cattle.' While the air was much chillier than at the old place, the hay did help her stave off some of it once she blindly gathered all she could and made a bed of sorts.

A day passed. Sakura woke, unaware of what time of day it was since she hadn't been able to view her surroundings in over a month. Clearly, she'd caught a cold or something similar because she was freezing and sweating at the same time. Her head pounded with ache, she felt even weaker than before, and her muscles ached. Faintly, she could hear voices in the distance. She eavesdropped, always trying to gain intel on her captors that she might be able to use in the future to escape.

"-nothing about chaining up a woman! This isn't what my family agreed to!"

'This isn't another hideout, then? We're at someone's family's farm, by the sound of it.'

She continued to listen as Hidan barked back, "Oh, yeah? And what're you gonna do about it? You'll be charged for aiding the kidnappers of the Kingdom's only princess if you try to turn us in. They'll have you and your family's next generation executed."

"That woman is the missing princess?!" The male voice sounded entirely stunned. Obviously, he hadn't been aware of what those mercenaries were going to do on their property. He was verbally defeated, "Gods forgive me...."

Kakuzu spoke with more composure, "Go back inside to your family, Farmer. And mind your behavior. If we suspect you're merely considering contacting the capitol, we'll send you to hell before you can utter a word."

That night, Sakura was woken by someone sneaking into her vicinity. She scampered to her feet, lifting her hands defensively. Though they were mercenaries, the two men who'd been overseeing her confinement always made noise when approaching. Perhaps it was because they wanted to avoid unnecessary panic from the already distressed woman. So, it wasn't one of them coming to her.

"I'm here to help you. Stay quiet."

It was the farmer from earlier, whispering in a shaky voice. First, he tried to remove the blindfold, only for something to cause him to hiss and let it go. Likely, it had some sort of enchantment preventing its removal, just like the silencing collar. That, too, seemed to harm the farmer when he attempted to unbuckle it.

His hands shook as he breathed heavily and began trying to pick the lock of the shackle on her ankle, "Please don't blame me for letting them stay here. I have a wife and two children to protect."

Sakura was trembling with an unhealthy mixture of cold, fear, and adrenaline.

After a few moments, the tight metal released from the princess's ankle, and the farmer hissed, "I've alerted the nearest village that you're here. I'm sorry, but I can't do anything more to help." Cautiously, she allowed him to help her upright and guide her to the exit of what she believed to be a barn. While lifting her arm, he pointed it in a specific direction, "If you run South and just keep going, you might be able to meet the knights halfway."

Sakura squeezed the man's hand, unable to verbally thank him. She knew the chances of this escape plan succeeding were slim, but she had no other choice. Those mercenaries would kill Sasuke if and when he found them. If she could prevent them ever coming face to face, they'd never have a chance to lay a finger on him.

So, the ill, half-starving, and pregnant Sakura took off in a sprint in the direction the farmer had indicated. The ground was covered in snow. Her toes were freezing to the point that it hurt. She didn't let that stop her, though. No, Sakura ran and ran with little regard for her body's protests. One moment she was desperately trekking through a forest, her hands out in front of her to make sure she wouldn't run head-first into a tree. Then, in the next, the ground gave way and she fell. It could've been a large hill or even a cliff. All she knew was that the air was knocked out of her when she landed on her back. Snow fell on top of her as she struggled to inhale. Beneath the blindfold, her eyes were wide and unseeing.

Before she could manage it, footsteps could be heard approaching. 'Please. Please be Sasuke, or at least one of the knights coming to rescue me!'

Just as she was finally able to draw a breath, the person came close enough to address her. Her blood ran colder than the snow surrounding her body when Hidan's voice met her ears. He called out, likely to Kakuzu, "I found her!"

Then, the woman was pulled upright by her hair. She sucked in a breath, unable to make a peep lest the collar shock her again. Sakura could feel Hidan's breath on her face as he leaned in, likely inches away as he hissed, "You're more trouble than you're worth, Wench."

Sakura found herself back in the barn later that same night. Unfortunately, Kakuzu didn't stand up for her this time when Hidan chose to punish her for attempting to escape. So she couldn't run next time, he cut the bottoms of her feet just deep enough that she wouldn't bleed out from the wounds, but wouldn't be able to walk. He'd roughed her up a little, too, though he didn't hit quite as hard as before her pregnancy was realized. She considered herself lucky they were being careful not to harm the baby, though it might've been futile. If she wasn't rescued soon, it was likely being exposed to the elements and underfed would do both her and the unborn child in.

Almost like a taunt, the mercenaries didn't bother chaining her like before. It wasn't like she could handle the pain of walking more than a few steps.

So, with her hopes virtually smothered to death, the princess curled into a ball on her sad little bed of hay and tried to get some sleep. She'd have to begin brainstorming a new escape plan when she next woke.

Sasuke's POV~

Akuma led the small group of knights, plus the magic-user Kisame, through a dark and dead forest. Snow was falling in heavy, large flakes that whipped around the demon as he raced as quickly as possible. Last night, they discovered a hideout that'd been used to hold Sakura. It was drenched in her scent. When they discovered a room that was little more than a prisoner's cell, they found out why. There were drops of blood all over its stone floor. It was clear by their appearance that not all of them had appeared at the same time, either. That meant the princess was being harmed on multiple occasions. Akuma couldn't stop picturing the woman being tortured.

'I'll eat their hearts. They will not survive this, even if it means breaking my promise to obey the idiot prince. Send me to purgatory. Send me to hell. I do not care.'

The group had followed his lead up until dawn, where they came upon a small village. When Sasuke regained control of his body at sunrise, the party decided to rest. Without the demon's heightened sense of smell, it'd be nearly impossible to continue tracking the kidnappers' trail. The weather wasn't helping, either, because any foot or hoof prints were being buried in the snow.

Earlier, at sunset, the traveling group was preparing their horses to leave, when a few of the local law enforcement knights rushed up to them with claims that the princess's location had been offered by a small farmer who owned land seven hours North. This led to the present, with the group hurrying in desperate silence through the dark forest.

Personally, the demon's blood was pumping with adrenaline. This was the closest they'd come to finding Sakura in weeks. He wasn't about to allow the opportunity to pass.

Akuma glanced at where the sun would be rising within the hour. They'd been riding non-stop since receiving the tip. He wanted to find his sacrifice before dawn because he wanted to be the one to rescue her. He also selfishly wanted to unleash his bloodlust on those who dared steal her away.

'I can do more damage than the prince, and I won't hesitate like he will, either.'

All of a sudden, the faint scent he'd been following became stronger, but it veered off the trail. His neck snapped to the side, his horse obediently turning in that direction.

"What is it?" Kisame yelled above the sound of their horses' hoofs.

Akuma ignored him. He was too focused on the sweet scent of the woman he loved. Minutes passed before he noticed something in the distance and tugged on the steed's reins to slow to a stop. With panic and anger quickening his breaths, he dismounted Shadow and rushed over to a small clearing. Here, Sakura's scent was the strongest it'd been since they left that hideout.

"She was here. Maybe hours ago," he said when the others caught up.

The demon's heart sank as he followed a messy set of footprints to a small clearing at the bottom of a small ravine. It was obvious that someone, likely Sakura, had fallen from the ledge above. Judging by the half-filled footprints leading to and away from the area, she'd tried to escape and was recaptured.

"We need to hurry," one of the knights said. It was evident the entire traveling party realized the situation was becoming increasingly dire.

Akuma climbed back onto Shadow and returned to the trail so they could get back on track. 'Closer. Closer. Just a few more minutes,' he pleaded internally as the princess's scent gradually became easier to detect.

Just as a worn down old farm appeared on the horizon through the bare trees, the sun began to rise. Akuma snarled, jumping off of his steed and sprinting with inhuman speed toward the landmark.

The first thing he did upon arriving was kick the small house's door in, "Where is she!?" He bellowed. His voice was terrifying as his red eyes scanned the area.

His head became dizzy with the sheer amount of blood that filled the air. It was a massacre. With gritted teeth, he searched the corpses in the house to verify their identities before growling. A snarl of aggravation left his lungs, filling the air like the call of a predator in search of prey. She wasn't there. None of the blood was hers, either.

Before he could move a muscle to continue searching the farm for clues, the sound of fighting met his sensitive ears. He whipped around, hurrying outdoors to see the small group of knights had encountered a large man who, surprisingly, held his own despite being severely outnumbered.

When Akuma approached, bloodthirsty and eager, Kisame shouted, "We are capable. Search for the princess!"

Momentarily, the demon's rage faltered. He nodded, sharing a moment's glance with the blue-haired knight before hurrying in the direction of the barns. There were two, both small and showing signs of wear. In the first one, there was nothing but a handful of animals.

'Please.... Please be here,' he thought to himself while running toward the second one. It wasn't the time, he knew that, but he took a moment at the barn doors to pause and take a breath.

Then, he slid it open.

All the air in his lungs evaporated as he lay eyes on a bloodied and bruised Sakura. He unintentionally froze, staring in disbelief. She was clear on the opposite end of the building, but his enhanced senses made it easier to see than a human. Only when the demon realized she was severely shivering did he snap out of it.

With an unbearable tightness in his chest, he tore off his cloak and hurried to where she was curled into a ball on the ground. He lay it over her, only to hesitate on attempting to wake her when he noticed a short chain with a pair of loose shackles near her body. He knelt to study it. 'Why would they be here if they're not being used?'

He glanced at Sakura's ankles, only to do a double-take when he realized the reason. They'd sliced her feet to the point that they'd be lucky not to need stitched up to heal. Rage set him in motion again. He bent to try removing the leather-looking cloth from her eyes. A sharp pain zapped his fingers, making his teeth grit.

He cursed under his breath before shaking his head and grabbing the woman's shoulders, "Sakura! Sakura, wake up! Say something!"

She stirred, taking just a moment before cowering.

He made a shushing sound, brushing her dirty hair from her still-blindfolded face, "It's alright, Dove. I'm here. You're safe now."

Sakura's brow furrowed. Her lips moved to mouth his name, though she didn't verbally say it.

He had no time to dwell on her silence and nodded as though she could somehow see it, "That's right. We've been searching for-!" At the last moment, Akuma sensed a presence behind him and moved. He wasn't quick enough to entirely dodge the attack and ended up receiving a deep cut to his arm, but successfully parried the attackers' sword. His red eyes finally lay on the person responsible for the princess's sorry state. The man had silver hair, magenta eyes, and a wild look on his face that hinted he was just as eager to face Akuma as the demon was eager to drain him of his blood.

"Took you long enough, Prince! Your wife was sure you'd forgotten her!"

Akuma's sword met his. They battled for a few moments before jumping apart. He bit, venom coating each word, "Your death shall be slow. I'll have you beg."

Their swords clashed again.

And again.

The silver-haired man laughed, "Aren't you gonna ask me why we took her?"

"I'll have plenty of time to interrogate you once we're done here. You'll be tortured for as many days as you've held this woman hostage."

The fight lasted too long. Akuma had moments left before the prince would take over the body. With his guilt and frustration fueling his every move, the demon lunged forward. At the very last moment, the mercenary blocked his sword. Colorful curses filled the air in hisses as pain flooded Akuma's body. In his peripheral vision, he noticed the first rays of sunrise coming over the tree-lined horizon. He tried with all his might to hold on, limbs shaking with effort.

Then, it was Sasuke controlling himself. With their drastic differences in strength, the prince's grip slipped. The sword was torn away, clattering on the dirty ground nearby.

"What should I do with you now, Prince? That demon is stronger, and even he couldn't defeat me."

Sasuke narrowly dodged a slash from the man, the shoulder of his shirt being cut. His breath came in puffs as the duo shuffled around one another. 'I want to look at Sakura. Is she okay? She was so pale. How long has she been in this barn with no winter gear?' Pain distracted him as the enemy's sword nicked the same arm wound from earlier, making him growl and refocus. 'I can't think about that right now or I'll get myself killed.'

In the blink of an eye, the sword swung at the prince again. He dodged but was quickly taken to the ground when the silver-haired man tackled him. The blade went through his palm, effectively pinning his dominant arm and rendering it useless.

An unhinged glint met the man's gaze as he grinned victoriously, "Is this all the talent the royal family has to offer? I'm damn disappointed. I thought you'd at least put up more of a fight."

Sasuke barked, fending off his free hand with his own, "I'm not finished yet."

The attacker managed to land a strong hit to his jaw, which made him see stars. "Y'know, we were told we can do whatever we want with your wife once you're dead. I think I might have her keep me company for a while. She'll have to earn her fuckin' keep, though. If she can't satisfy me, I'll have to cut up more of her pretty pale skin, won't I?"

It was as if those taunts snapped something in Sasuke. He saw red. His hand curled around the blade currently penetrating it. He hissed, suddenly having the strength to overcome the cocky villain, "You won't lay a hand on her ever again."

With the fury of an extremely protective husband, Sasuke punched the man, sending him backward and off of him. Then, he was on top of the mercenary, plunging the sword into his chest over and over. A terrifying sound left him with each stab, blood splattering his clothes and body. The man quickly stopped moving.

"Princess!"

Kisame's voice broke Sasuke's bloodlust and focus and caused him to drop the sword. He felt almost drunk with energy as he hurried to his wife's side, ignoring the knights who'd arrived to witness their reunion, "Sakura!"

He fell to his knees at her side, taking in her appearance. It was unclear if she was fully conscious or not because he couldn't see her eyes, but when he touched the side of her face, she leaned into it. Tears welled up as Sasuke tried to breathe. She was skinnier than when he last saw her. She was so pale and cold. Bruises dusted her skin, as did blood, though the only thing that was bleeding that he could tell were her feet.

"She's ill. We should get her to the capitol as quickly as possible," Kisame interrupted his trance.

That was when Sasuke realized Sakura was sweating. Her chest heaved with short, quick breaths. He nodded, carefully bundling the woman up in his cloak before picking her up, "Let's go."

Kisame lifted both hands toward them, like how one would warm their palms near a fire, "I'll teleport you to the first prince's quarters."

Sasuke's grip on his wife tightened, "You're capable of such a feat?" He'd never heard of such a thing.

The knight smiled, though there was no joy or humor to it, "The cost is mighty, so it's reserved for emergencies."

"Wait-" Sasuke couldn't finish his statement before a blinding purple light erupted all around him. The cold winter air was replaced with the scent of incense and warmth.

It took a moment for the prince to realize they were already in the palace. When he did, he sucked in a jagged breath and stumbled toward the door. He was still injured and bleeding, not to mention exhausted, but he didn't dare consider anything other than getting help for Sakura. He managed to exit the room.

A pair of knights on patrol were walking further down the hall with their backs turned, so he called out, "Get the doctors!" They turned and obviously recognized the royal couple because one ran up to them while the other hurried off to get help.

Sasuke pulled away when the knight attempted to take the unconscious woman from his arms, "I have her. Just lead the way." Thankfully, the quiet soldier understood and obeyed without delay.

The Uchiha prince barely managed to glance away from his wife's face enough to watch where he was going. She still had leather covering her eyes and wrapped tightly around her neck. The court disenchanters would have to remove them.

"Brother! Did Kisame send you?" Itachi's familiar voice brought Sasuke the tiniest bit of relief. He nodded, following the knight into the hospital wing of the palace and carefully laying Sakura on the bed.

He felt his elder brother's arm come around his back when he then stumbled. They stepped back and out of the way when the other knight returned with a team of doctors so they could properly work. "What is her condition? Why is she blindfolded?" Itachi asked. He sounded genuinely concerned.

Sasuke felt a wave of nausea and had to be helped to a nearby chair, "I-I don't know."

A handful more doctors arrived, one of them coming over to tend to the prince.

Itachi seemed to understand his little brother was in a state of shock. He could tell now wasn't the time to talk, so he lay a comforting hand atop his head. He offered a small smile when Sasuke looked up at him with the fear and uncertainty poorly hidden in his eyes, "She's alive, Brother."

Sasuke fell asleep shortly after being treated, barely managing to make it back to the hospital wing after bathing and changing clothes. He was told Sakura had a severe cold, that she was extremely lucky to not have developed hypothermia.

When the last doctor was finishing up verifying her bandages weren't needing changing, he offered, "Pardon me if I'm speaking out of turn, but perhaps you should accompany the princess. It may help with her fever."

The prince spared the elderly man a glance. He didn't respond verbally. He didn't even move from his seat at her bedside until they were completely alone.

When they were, he allowed his composed mask to falter. Tears welled in his eyes as he watched the rise and fall of his wife's chest. The blindfold and collar had been removed, but she'd yet to wake. There were claw marks amidst her neck that were obviously caused by futile attempts to remove the enchanted article. The disenchanters hadn't been able to ascertain what their functions were or if they had any at all.

'It's been nearly six weeks,' Sasuke mused, wanting very much for his wife to wake and reassure him she was, indeed, alright. It felt like a year or more had passed since their last encounter.

Being without her was eye-opening in the worst possible way. Before she was taken, he was uncertain of what to do about their predicament. Now he was sure: He would not be able to live without her under any circumstances.

Even if it meant co-existing with The Curse, Sasuke was no longer willing to give up that which he held most precious in this world.

#naruto #naruto fanfiction #narutofanfic #narutofanfiction #sakura #haruno sakura #sakura uchiha #naruto shippuden #sakura haruno #naruto shippuden fanfiction #sasusaku fic #sasusaku fanfiction #uchiha sasuke #sasuke #sasusaku

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yes-these-obsessions-are-healthy · 1 month ago

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the problem with writing OCs in certain fandoms is that if the OC needs to be competent and do something, i.e. be the chosen one or the leader of an organization, I get overwhelmed by the mere thought of being responsible and proactive and literally get so tired I need a nap. Not to mention I'm not clever and have no patience for politics and strategy that doesn't boil down to "Argue/threaten people to be nice and do the right thing or else". Yeah I'm that person who would write a terrible OC that just sits there and does nothing while people do the work for them. At least I'm self-aware hhhhhhhh

It's why hyper-competent OCs are kind of hit or miss for me. Too competent and I get annoyed. Too incompetent and I get annoyed. Hyper-competent, confident, capable OCs have never been characters I've gravitated toward or enjoyed for 'wish fulfillment'. Characters that are a hair's breadth from a serious and genuine mental breakdown (not in the ha ha ha way people would joke about it in the tags, but actually holy shit someone put out this fire, someone help them, someone genuinely actually help them please) and make mistakes and try their best to scramble to keep all the plates spinning are much more comforting. Their anxiety becomes my anxiety, and paradoxically it becomes enjoyable because it's a simulation of those negative feelings. An OC with tons of accomplishments just makes me feel like my real life sucks, lol, I just end up comparing myself to some fake deeds and adventures and end up going 'I wish I could be like that. But I'm not."

anyway this is just rambling, but somewhat also sort of kind of about my Lavellan and the difficulty in writing fanfiction for Dragon Age because there is little room for absolute losers because if your OC is an absolute and actual-actual unlucky incompetent loser, then the plot can't progress. The Warden, the Champion, the Inquisitor *can't* be a loser. Everyone would be dead if they were, so it is difficult trying to toe the line between 'realistic stress and character flaws impeding this character's story" and "Okay realistically and by the logic of the game's universe, the law, the nature of things, and everyone around the OC, this character would have a Game Over screen by now."

Also not to mention that my brain is indeed built for knowledge of lore, but it's not built for constructing anything from that lore, at least if it's fictional. If it's real history I can make all the connections and extrapolations like nobody's business, but I guess because a video game, a book, a tv show, a movie, etc. has so much that is simply not known, it's too big of a fog of war for me to know where to start. No one wants a shitty superficial word vomit of half-baked ideas when there are people who just have more creativity to come up with entire family trees for their Inquisitors or Wardens and can fold in Game of Thrones' level of intrigue into made-up Fereldan - Orlesian politics and nobles. I don't have that dog in me, sad to say.

I know. Just write. Just write what you like to write about. But the thing I want to write about--the thing that would make me feel accomplished-- is the stuff I'm not good at writing and don't understand how to write because it's as foreign and unintuitive to me as Ancient Greek, and no matter how much I read I can't come up with anything. Just a blank. I blame the autism for this blind spot when it comes to my inability to spontaneously conjure up and plot out fake human motivations. I can't even write characters being rude or ignorant--not like I used to--because the thought of even including people like these in my stories is like adding your least favorite ingredient into your favorite stew. Yes it gives it a better flavor profile but you're still chopping up that onion and being miserable the whole time.

Again, rambling. Just rambling. I had six years--count 'em, six--to develop and write down a half-decent walkthrough of my Solavellan relationship and I didn't because I'm not quick when it comes to understanding my own OCs' motivations My OCs are basically the transfer student you get second week of school and it's only by May you realize "Oh we actually have something in common". My OCs are pretty much as much a mystery to me as they are to a reader. I have to spend just as much time trying to figure out who they are and what makes them tick as anyone on the street. I have to parse through things, and try to find a voice and find the tune and string it together with canon characters and events, and it's always extremely slow goings. .. sigh.

#dragon age #fandom #just rambling

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ternfic · 1 month ago

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Reboot

Chapter Eight

“Emmet!” she gasped and ran toward him. He grinned and caught her easily.

“You’re okay!” he cheered, hugging her close. She returned the embrace, hugging him back just as tightly for a second before pulling away to meet his gaze.

“How did you get here? And who’s this guy?” She gestured toward the stranger.

“That’s Rex, my brother.”

“You never mentioned having a brother…”

“That’s ‘cause we had a falling out a long time ago.”

“You had a ‘falling out’ with someone,” Lucy murmured in disbelief. Emmet shrugged.

“It does happen. Anyway, he helped us get here to rescue you!”

“How kind of him.”

“Oh. Lucy… Your ring…”

“I know,” she huffed. “I’m so sorry, Emmet, they took it and I couldn’t get it back-!”

He gave her a reassuring smile. “It’s okay, I believe you. And now I’ll get to make you a better one!”

She took his hands, tugging gently until he leaned down to touch foreheads with her. “I liked that one.” She frowned as a thought occurred to her. “You haven’t said anything about my hair.”

He blinked at her, and almost winced at his realization. He’d forgotten to act surprised. “Should I? I mean I think it looks nice.” Lucy stared at him.

“In fact you don’t even seem surprised at all,” Bad Cop rumbled at him in suspicion. “Almost like you were expecting it.”

“I didn’t see much point in raising a fuss over it,” Emmet floundered.

“And we’ve got more important things to worry about anyway,” Rex finally spoke up. “We’ve got Lucy, but we still have to get the others, somehow. And interrupt that wedding.”

“The wedding?” Rex explained it to her the same way he had to Bad Cop just a couple hours earlier. “So they really are up to something with that.”

“Do you think you could help us in like an undercover sort of way?” Emmet asked.

“After my behavior in there?” Lucy shook her head. “It would be really suspicious if I started cooperating out of the blue. I’m afraid I blew any chances of that.”

“You can’t come with us though, we really don’t have room for a fourth person in the cruiser,” Rex said.

Lucy smirked at him. “There’s three Master Builders here. I’m sure we can manage.”

Rex opened his mouth, ready to argue, and then closed it again. “…Alright, you’ve got a point.” He rapped his knuckles against the cruiser, and it fell into a pile of parts. Together the four of them gathered more parts to rebuild a bigger ship. Rex attempted to help with it, but after a minute, had to take a step back. He couldn’t…

He couldn’t.

He hadn’t had cause to use his Master Building skills after Building the Rexcelsior and his various other equipment, but he hadn’t thought that was something that could ever be lost. And yet he found himself unable to contribute.

Emmet paused, turning to give him a concerned look. “Rex? You alright?”

“I can’t Build,” he answered, tone bordering on horrified.

That got Lucy’s and Bad Cop’s attention. “You used to?” the cop asked.

“Yeah, I Built the Rexcelsior, after all. But that was… years ago. It’s not an ability I’ve really needed to use since.”

“It’s not something that just goes away if you don’t use it, though,” Lucy said, narrowing her eyes. “Like riding a bike- you never really forget how.”

“I didn’t forget,” Rex snapped. “It’s just not coming to me! I can’t- I can’t See how the pieces fit together anymore…”

“…A result of being here for too long?” Emmet hazarded a guess.

“I- yeah, maybe,” Rex accepted, starting to calm back down. “Been hanging around here too much, place is getting to me…”

“You’re sure that’s the case?” Bad Cop pressed.

“Not really, but since I’ve never seen anyone from Systar Master Build anything, or even anyone from back home, after being assimilated, I can only assume it’s not a thing here.”

“Alright,” Lucy sighed. “So we’ll need to be more careful if we want to get out of here still ourselves. Rex, you just- chill for a bit, we’ll finish this.” The rogue nodded stiffly before finding a rock to sit on as he watched them, mind racing.

He was starting to suspect that wasn’t the only thing about him that had changed.

#the lego movie #rex dangervest #emmet brickowski #wyldstyle #gcbc #emmetstyle #coppernauts

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linkspooky · 2 years ago

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I do wonder if Nobara do return— And that’s a big if since it’s been a hot while we last heard about her— What would be her role?

Or not necessarily role, since she does have a unique ability to damage the soul. But more like… character arc I suppose?

Like some people would theorize that Nobara could possibly help Maki from spiraling. However, I personally believe it makes much more narrative sense that it would be Yuta that does it.

I must think that Nobara would possibly go through her own arc. But my question is how?

Since I thought her arc is to be less judgmental with her black and white thinking and expand her world view. But the only person that I can think would challenge Nobara on this is Mai. Since Nobara judged Mai harshly despite the fact that she too was a victim like Maki.

But then like… Mai died so… now what?

Okay, so all the reasons Nobara might come back, and some of the reasons she might not.

Let’s start with why she might not. By the way I’m not arguing whether or not she’ll come back, because in my mind it’s a very strong “...Maaaaaaaaybe?” so it’s just easier to list arguments in support or against.

This is definitely the biggest reason why it would be hard to reintroduce Nobara back into the story. Part of this is Gege’s fumbling his handling of female characters, simply put Mai and Miwa are characters who are better written with way less screentime because they both have obvious character flaws, a character arc is built around a flaw the character has that they either have to work on or face the consequences.

In comparison to Noara, Megumi and Yuji have clear flaws. Megumi is at times borderline suicidal, he’s really emotoinally unhealthy, he picks and chooses between the people he saves and he lets die. He has a lot of connection to bigger plotlines in the Jujutsu World, the Zenin Clan, his legacy as Toji’s son.

Yuji also has a major flaw of being self sacrificing and has little self worth, he prioritizes other people far above himself, he has a character conflict around finding a way to die, being a little too willing to die, acting like he has little agency or that he’s individually worthless and much preferring to be a cog in society, he’s also continually dealing with Sukuna’s machinations from inside his own body.

They have clear flaws and they’re connected to the world around them, in comparison Nobara seems a little tacked onto the trio as an afterthought to the point where it is hard to even speculate on where she would fit in post shibuya. We get one flashback to her home village and it’s not even about her life as a jujutsu sorcerer in the country side, just a childhood friend she had. That childhood friend is apparently just fine in the city, so that character motivation and plotline is resolved for the most part. Everything we know about why Nobara became a sorcerer is shoved into a databook (her grandmother), Saori just seems to be a normal person so I don’t even think there was a mystery about her home town.

You could say her flaw is both her naivete and egotism, she ends up kind of repeating misogyny against Mai when Momo tries to explain what misogyny is like in the Jujutsu World because she views Mai as a bad victim. Solidarity is solidarity with all women and victims, not just the people you personally like. Nobara’s belief that she can simply overcome all adversity with her strong willpower could also be seen as a flaw.

This is a mistranslation it’s more like ...

⇒ “How to put it… The seats in my life? I don’t want people who’re not sitting there to affect my mind in that way or another.”

⇒ “(…) Well, I guess there are people like you who just come bringing their own chairs and sit [with me], too”

which is Nobara saying she only cares about a select group of people, which in a way reflects Megumi’s flaw of just picking and choosing who she saves.

Nobara’s flaw could be seen as her hypocrisy, she’s one of those loud, crazy people who can easily step on other people’s lives. If they’re not in her small circle of friends she doesn’t really care, she feels little remorse over killing Choso’s brothers. If she comes back that could potentially lead to a conflict with Choso, as unlike Yuji who Choso can forgive because they are brothers, not only is nobara also a murderer, but she doesn’t really feel sorry about it.

Her naivete and hypocrisy are things that could come to have consequences for her upon her return, for instance you mention Yuta seems more appropriate for the role of supporting Maki and saving her from her spiral than Nobara does. If you look at it from that angle, Nobara could try to help Maki and fail, number one because she does not actually understand all that much about what happened in the Zenin clan she was just making judgements as an outsider and number two because she never liked Mai and that’s the person that Maki is grieving. Mai in general just represents a part of Maki that Nobara doesn’t understand in her amdiration of her.

This is also the part where I start quoting other people, because I ferociously googled other people’s posts on how they think Nobara might come back due to this being a weak point for me. This post, brings up the fact that if you look at the losses Nobara has suffered so far, they could be the result of Nobara being arrogant and naive to the world and therefore her loss at Shibuya could be a low part in her arc that she has to recover from.

Jujutsu Kaisen is nothing if not rigidly efficient in how it tells this massive story. I believe every instance of Nobara actually leads us to see a low point in her character arc in Shibuya and a possible return in the Culling Games.

The major foreshadowing to her return is during the Kyoto exchange arc. Her fight against Momo clearly has her ignorant of the plight of women in the JJK universe in Chapters 40 and 41.

This seems to return with Mai dead, Maki scarred and Nobara seriously injured. There's some that claim her not being dead would lower stakes when it's obvious Mahito still would have irreversibly destroyed her youth and beauty that she was proud of all the way back in her introduction in Chapter 4 believing she should be a model.

If being beautiful and dressing up is part of what makes Nobara Kugisaki, Nobara Kugisaki then what is she with half of her face deformed or missing completely?

If Nobara’s main strength is the power of her ego and self confidence, then introducing her back with a severely bruised ego with all the losses she has endured then that could represent a new struggle her character has to deal with.

The second part of the post brings up that Nobara’s power is currently under-explored, as I said of Yuji and Megumi she seems to be the least connected to the Jujutsu World around her, but Gojo himself said that all of his students are supposed to have remaining potential. Nobara is referred to having come close to feeling the core to cursed energy, which is why she dealt a bigger blow to Mahito than Mahito expected having written her off as weak.

As several people have pointed out before me, Nobara is the only one of the students to feel the core of cursed energy, which is mentioned s Gojo’s feat that allowed him to come back and defeat Toji. Nobara like Gojo, suffered a near fatal wound that put her on the brink of death, but Nitta went into painstaking detail to point out that there wasn’t a zero percent chance of her coming back due to his cursed technique preventing her body from getting any worse. Just like Gojo, her head wasn’t cut off and she wasn’t finished off.

There’s two possible theories I’ve seen to explain what could lead to Nobara coming back, number one her unlocking reversed curse technique similiar to Gojo. Number one the clear parallel to Nobara in the past trio is Shoko. While Megumi is parallled to Gojo and Geto to Yuji. Gojo even says that reversed cursed technique is impossible to expain and has to be figured out intuitively.

Nobara’s technique also has a couple of techniques that closely resemble reverse cursed technique. Resonance connects her to her opponent, she can even use her own body and connect her with her opponent to share their pain together. Considering she connects herself to the opponent’s soul directly to inflict damage on them (how she attacked Mahito’s soul directly), then either using reversed curse technique to heal isn’t that far of a stretch because she is already fighting y directly applying her cursed eenrgy to someone else, she just inflicts negative harm. Gojo explains reverse cursed technique is quite literally just reversing in order to heal.

Or, there’s the theory my linked post posited that Nobara herself is going to be shown to be an expert of the soul. This is where I bring alchemy into the equation.

This, is the alchemy triangle.

I’ve explained the significance of the man and woman, small and large circles, square and triangle at some length. For a story, we need to focus on the triangle. In spiritual alchemy, the triangle represents soul, spirit, and body. Heinrich Khunrath helpfully labeled the sides of the triangle in this emblem. In red capital letters you have Anima (soul), Spiritus (spirit), and Corpus (body).

It is ambiguous where cursed energy comes and cursed technique comes from, but we are given multiple references for soul, body and mind. Extremely early on it’s mentioned that cursed energy may come from the brain, later on Mahito is able to change Junpei’s brain around in order to awaken his potential for cursed technique. Much, much later Kenjaku does this en masse to awaken a bunch of potential sorcerers.

Mahito refers to the soul and the body afterwards, completing the triangle. Mahito’s cursed technique specifically manipulates the soul to transform the shape of his body around it. In the world of Jujutsu Kaisen, the soul is definitely something that exists and has form.

Todo even explicitly names the triangle later on when counselling Yuji, people exists in this world mind, body, and soul and sorcerers are at their strongest when they draw strength with all three are in harmony. Whereas Todo explains that the three of them being seperate and in disharmony makes cursed technique weaker.

So the goal of the triangle, and alchemy at large is to find the harmony between the alchemy triangle, or the three main characters that represent mind, body, soul (or sometimes, mind, body and heart). The Wizard of Oz is the most obvious example of three characters having to find harmony with each other in order to accomplish their goals by the end of the story.

In the Wizard of Oz, Frank Baum used the heart/mind/body triangle in a completely different way. Rather than marking his protagonist, Dorothy, as heart, as you would expect, Baum assigns heart, mind, and body characteristics to her three companions. The Tin Man is in search of a heart, the Scarecrow in search of a brain, and the Cowardly Lion in search of “some nerve,” in other words the courage that Body characters typically lack.

If you were to divide mind, body and soul then you can center the goal of each character of the main trio. Megumi has to find mind, he’s the most cerebral of the trio as the strategist, his entire arc revolves around his ideals (he hypocritically only chooses to save the people he wants too), his biggest flaw is also being inside his own head and refusing to connect with people.

Yuji is obviously body, he shares his body with an intruder Sukuna, he is also out of harmony with Sukuna because Sukuna constantly possesses him to cause harm to the others around him. He only became a sorcerer in the first place because his body was modified the moment he ate the finger. He was also purposefully birthed for the sake of becoming a vessel, which means he was literally created to be a body for Sukuna to inhabit. Body characters are defined by their hunger and desires, Sukuna’s cursed technique literally revolves around cooking, his true form has a giant mouth on his stomach, Yuji has to eat fingers to grow stronger.

That would leave Nobara as the soul, which is where I am going to reference the other post again.

We never seen Gojo referring to Nobara's potential and so it's assumed it's because she's sidelined but there's no reason to say that it's not because her talents might be a major spoiler to whatever True Jujutsu and the Core of Cursed Energy is.

we already know that the power of the soul is something that goes beyond CE. Mahito even remarks all the way back in Chapter 31 that Sukuna should have less CE than Jogo yet his soul is simply on another level. It may be a completely separate power system and part of how Toji and Maki function so well with 0 CE. Their bodies after all can defeat souls.

, In fact, the separation of Sukuna's fingers into 20 is never explained as it's not a requirement seen for any other Special Grade Cursed Object capable of reincarnating like the Death Paintings (they are also mostly human but 1/3(?) curse). We don't actually know why he is different.

The influence souls have on cursed technique are unknown and unexplored too. The necromancer transfigures her grandsons bodies but specifically doesn’t summon the soul, but because Toji has a special body he comes back.

Kenjaku even theorizes that the soul is the body, and the body is the soul therefore their connection influences one another both ways. Which is like... yet another way that Nobara can come back, if the body conforms to the soul and the soul conforms to the body, Nobara being able to manipulate her soul because her CT targets the soul directly could make her change her body enough to come back.

To make an argument with alchemy though, alchemy works by seperating the individual members of the triangle, and then eventually reuniting them. That’s a brief, brief summary of how alchemy works in a story, but basically for the story to be complete the alchemy triangle has to come together. For example, Naruto, Sasuke and Sakura are a similiar alchemy triangle, they spend most of the story seperated and developing on their own, but the story cannot end until the three of them reunite again.

“The triangle symbolizes the tendency of the universe to converge towards the point of unity.”

“Some philosophers maintain the quadrangle is to be reduced to a triangle, that is to body, spirit and soul. These three appear in three colors which precede the redness: the body, or earth, in saturnine blackness; the psirit in lunar whiteness, like water; and the soul or air, in solar yellow. Then the triangle will be perfect, but in its turn it must change into a circle (that is uncharangeable redness).

“Out of man and woman make a round circle and extract the quadrangle from this and from the quadrangle the triangle. Make a round circle and you will have the philosopher’s stone.”

The goal of alchemy is to form the philosopher’s stone, or essentially reach the endpoint of the story. The “man and woman” angle is also important. Remember, Nobara and Yuji have been depicted fighting together three times, the first time they were in disharmony because they just met, the second time they were in harmony after developing their bond as sorcerers and took on the death painting sibs together, the third time they were in disharmony again and they even seperated with Nobara’s “Death”. Alchemy would require the man and the woman coming together again at the end of the story (this doesn’t even specifically have to be romantic, just as symbols, Nobara and Yuji black flashed together they have a lot of potential for harmony).

Whether or not you ship Sasuke and Sakura (PLEASE THIS iSN’T SHIpS I DONT EVEN SHIP THEM), the story also follows the formula of alchemy, Sasuke and Sakura are seperated for the majority of the story developing on their own and reforging themselves but the story cannot end until man and woman are brought together in a round circle.

Therefore if Jujutsu Kaisen is an alchemical story, of mind, body and soul and cursed technique is at it’s strongest when these three elements are in harmony with each other, then the story can’t end unless the trio is repaired and Megumi (Mind), Yuji (Body) and Nobara (soul) are brought together once more.

#metasks #nobara kugisaki #mai zenin #maki zenin #megumi fushiguro #yuji itdaori #jujuts kaisen #jujutsu kaisen meta #jjk meta #jujutsu kaisen theory

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