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holykillercake · 3 years

Text

FRIED EGGS

KOBY x Pirate!Reader

word count: 2k

summary: Being infiltrated as a Marine and keeping your feelings under control was easy until you were assigned to work with Marine Captain Koby. How you wished he was a jerk.

highlight: ¨I am kissing you... but I am angry, Y/N-san...¨

warnings: read under the risk of developing diabetes.

notes: Hey, guys! This was a lovely request from @pure-kirarin! <3 I had to stop other projects to make this one because Koby threw me out of my comfort zone hahaha I really hope you like!! ALSO 1) Happy Birthday Sabo-kun! ALSO 2) In order to add more dept to the story, the main character is part of a Yonkos´crew, but I wrote in a way that all fit, so choose your favorite! ALSO 3) ART ALERT!

Leave comments, hearts and love!

¨You have been doing a remarkable job in such little time, Commander L/N. We all have great expectations regarding your transference to our Marine Headquarters.¨

The words of the Rear Admiral barely scratched your mind as you discreetly observed the pink-haired boy´s reflection on the crystal clear window.

He maintained a similar posture to yours: chin up, chest out, shoulders back, and stomach in. However, while your fingers remained paralleled to your trousers, you took a glimpse of his clenched fist, thumb fidgeting the side of his index finger.

¨Vice Admiral Tsuru was reluctant to sign your transfer. She said you remind her of herself in the past, which is always an excellent compliment to hear.¨ you nodded, acknowledging his words ¨We´re glad we convinced her.¨

Your heart warmed with his words, and you almost felt bad because you knew the disappointing outcome O-Tsuru-san would have at the end of this. She trained you with the iron face of a merciless soldier, and the elegance that resembled the animal of her name.

It has been three years since you received the green card from your captain to part ways in a long-term solo mission. A journey to excavate the putrid secrets of the so-called defenders of the law. You learned after a short time that justice is not so black and white.

Not that you planned to reveal the dirt, no. That intel your captain could sell to the Revolutionary Army and keep the capital running. You were interested in the arms race, the corrupt diplomacy, and more importantly, the dark pipes where traitors flowed.

Someone from inside the Yonkos was feeding the Marines with crucial information about the Emperors´ activities. And in such a close fight, you could not take those risks.

All other Emperors must have their own undercover agents within the Marines, but even that was a dispute. You could point some names to your boss, who confirmed what was suspected. Those would usually be the best of the best, extravagant and loud.

But not you. You didn't have to make that much noise. You slid between the floors of New Marineford like a snake swimming with the current. Earning the respect of your superiors and being promoted without ringing any bells. You accepted each medal with a firm salutation and relentless performance.

¨The trip must have been displeasing. Submerging ten thousand meters underwater and rising to these fiendish waters require a good rest. Our Marine Captain Koby will escort you to your quarters, Commander Y/N. The remaining instructions shall be presented tomorrow.¨

You saluted the Rear Admiral in front of you and turned to the exit, passing by Koby, who waited for you to leave first. When your paths crossed, the pace of your heartbeats quickened, pumping more blood through your body and leaving a burning sensation on your cheeks.

The involuntary response was instantly interpreted as alertness to danger, which needed to be handled with caution.

Can´t let my guard down around this one, you thought.

In fact, you planned to keep as much distance as you could from him. An officer let slip that he has been gaining incredible control over his Observation Haki since the Paramount War.

But the wind seemed to change direction, and you began to swim against the current. When the morning came, you were assigned to be his partner for an undetermined time, and he would act as your superior. The idea of being bossed around by a younger marine got your temper sparked.

Only he was not like the others, treating you in a patronizing and condescending way. He spoke to you with the same cordiality and politeness he addressed everybody else.

Slowly, your concrete cold expression began to soothe. You would still remind yourself how annoying his good manners were, though. So annoying, seriously!

¨Good morning, Y/N-san!¨ he greeted as you joined him for breakfast.

¨Good morning, Koby.¨

¨Our Border Force correspondent sent his report early in the morning with information about possible Yonkos´ alliances in the Wano Country. We are arranging a meeting as soon as possible.¨

You didn´t like to handle work so early, but this subject, in particular, raised your spirits. ¨Good. It was about time.¨

You noticed that he wore a different headband. ¨What happened?¨

¨Hm?¨ he brought the soup bowl close to his mouth.

¨The bandana. Green, with the fried eggs.¨ he choked on the miso soup, coughing like he had swallowed poison.

You reached for a paper tissue and handed it to him. ¨K-Koby, are you ok?¨

¨Y-Y/N... Y/N-san...¨ he coughed some more ¨They´re not... fried eggs...¨

¨Oh...¨ your brows raised slightly ¨What are they?¨

A depressive aura grew around him ¨They are flowers, YN-san...¨

The edge of your lips contorted as you tried to hide a smile. You haven´t felt like smiling genuinely for years. Annoying boy!

From that moment on, ignoring him became more difficult. He started to ask you to train with him or invite you to spend some time with him and Helmeppo whenever you had free time. Eventually, he began to ask you how he looked before an important meeting.

Most of the time, you would reply something like ¨ok¨. But sometimes, the mouth was quicker than the brain, and you would let an ¨impeccable¨ slip out, followed by an awkward throat clearing and blushed cheeks.

From both sides.

•

¨Oh my-¨ you stopped yourself from finishing the sentence.

You were chosen to complete this mission due to your excellent skills in hiding emotions and acting calm under stressful situations. No one could break you.

Within the Marines, no joke could make you crack a smile, and no torture could make you spill secrets.

Why did you want to ask if he was ok?

Koby had entered his office with bumps and bloody bruises over his face. His always neat uniform was blotchy, and he carried a first aid kit.

¨Garp-san paid a visit.¨ He sat on the couch and opened the white box, throwing everything on the coffee table. ¨I bet it wasn't like this with Tsuru-san.¨ he chuckled.

¨No. She would beat me up, wash me and hang me up to dry.¨

You shot from the chair, moving towards the clumsy pinkette, who struggled to attend to his injuries. He tried to hold the mirror with one hand and suture his gash with the other.

¨Thank yo-¨

¨Shh. Don´t move.¨

You leaned closer to have a better look, giving Koby the same chance. Your delicate perfume smelled like it was tailor-made for you. Your breathing was slightly irregular, and your lip twitched with every given stitch. Your fingers felt like feathers on his skin, so much that he didn´t even feel a sting.

The job was fast and efficient, making Koby wish Garp had put more effort into his Love Fist. Grabbing a piece of wet cotton, you cleaned the dried blood.

¨Alright...¨ you whispered.

¨Alright...¨ he whispered back.

You were inches apart from his face, your eyes traveling across the scar on his forehead, the pink locks, and kind features. Your mind traced back all the way to the Paramount War. You had very little knowledge about him, but the words he spoke that day have always made your heart pound like cannonballs.

You will make an excellent Admiral one day, Koby.

I hope you don´t hate me.

¨Y-Y/N-san...¨

¨Hm?¨

¨Your smile is beautiful.¨

¨What?¨ The stupid scene of yours was interrupted like a DJ stopping the record player.

With cheeks getting pinker than his hair, you shot up and marched back to the chair and your newspaper. ¨You clean this up.¨

He left a low chuckle out and began gathering the mess.

Oh, no, Y/N. You have got to be kidding me.

He is a freaking marine. Breathe.

There were a vast number of reasons why you couldn´t like him: from him being a Marine Captain and you being a pirate to the fact that your mission was coming to a conclusion.

Meaning that your journey as his partner would be very soon reaching its end. The meeting with this mysterious correspondent regarding the Yonkos´ operations in the New World would be the last move in this chess game. You would be going home. Mission completed. Everything perfect, right?

Right, perfect. Impeccable! Ugh!

•

¨... confirm secure line.¨

¨This is Border Officer code 404890. Secure line confirmed.¨ you spoke with a low but clear voice through the nail transponder.

¨What´s the status on our birdie?¨

¨Positive. The birdie is located at 03:24:01.¨ you gave your boss a coordinate to the name of the Marine informant. The answer you took three years to find out remained on file number one, third page, suspect number twenty-four.

An amused laugh echoed on your end, and you buried the speaker on your jacket to muffled the sound.

¨At least he is not one of ours.¨ a chuckle ¨Great job, Y/N.¨

¨Thank you, boss.¨

¨I know this mustn't have been easy, but you were impeccable as always.¨

Yeah, impeccable.

¨You know the protocol now. We´ll see each other in a few days. You´ll have a party waiting for you, kid.¨

¨Aye, aye, boss. But I want the good booze.¨ Both of you laughed.

You finished the call, and the smile on your lips died as the image of a pink-haired boy invaded your mind. You wished he was a jerk like everybody else.

It would have been so easy.

¨Who were you talking to?¨ your chest contracted, pushing the air out of your lungs and sending extra blood supply to your muscles.

You hid the transponder into your jacket and turned, facing your Marine Captain.

¨Eavesdropping, Koby?¨

What should I do?

¨Y/N-san, who were you talking to?¨ he repeated himself, offering the benefit of the doubt. You sighed.

¨My captain.¨

Why the need to be honest with him?

¨Y/N-san, please don´t tell me-¨

¨I´m sorry, Koby. I wish I didn´t have to do this.¨ you couldn´t bring yourself to face him.

¨A-Are you a pirate? Why?¨

You chuckled ¨Why am I a pirate?¨

¨Why did you do this?¨ his face was pale, making your guts twitch in guilt.

¨I´m on a mission. But I´ll leave soon.¨

¨You are like... Vergo-san.¨ he sounded disappointed.

¨I am nothing like Vergo. You know this.¨ or at least you hoped he did.

He closed the door slowly, eyes fixed on your figure. The bright light from the window made him look like an ethereal painting.

While you tried to predict his next move, whether he was going to interrogate you or kick your ass, Koby acted calm and collected, not hesitating. He trusted his Observation Haki to guide his next move. Or maybe his heart.

You saw a pink blur closing distance like a missile, and before you could dodge, his hands pulled you by the waist, connecting your bodies and lips.

He forced your back to meet the thick window with a gasp that was muffled by the kiss. His touch was rough upon the fabric of your uniform, but his mouth felt soft against yours.

Your hands moved to his hair, removing the round pair of glasses and the green bandana so you could get lost in his locks. His grip was harsh under the fabric of your uniform, but his hair felt soft on your fingertips.

A moan escaped your lips when he parted the kiss with a loud snap and struck the glass with both hands, keeping you trapped in the middle. You let go of his hair and grabbed him by the collar, not letting him go away.

¨I am kissing you... but I am angry, Y/N-san...¨ his breath was heavy and carried with a myriad of emotions.

¨I know... I am sorry.¨

¨Why?¨

¨Because I like you, Koby. A lot.¨ he paused for a second, fighting the urge to admit the same.

¨What was your mission?¨

This is the last lie, I promise, Koby. ¨The Marines possessed vital information about something my boss wants. I needed to get it.¨

¨Now that I know that you´re a pirate and that you stole Marine´s assets, I´m gonna have to hunt you down.¨

¨I´ll be waiting for you.¨

You stared him in the eyes, and he kissed you to stop himself from saying what he really wanted.

I love you, Y/N-san.

Diary of Koby-Meppo: The Fried Egg Life Crisis.

💕 @vemuabhi

335 notes · View notes

messwriting · 3 years

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Written for The Smut Pile Collab: Mafia AU | MASTERLIST HERE.

POISON AND PLEASURE

Osamu Miya (Post-Time Skip) x Mob Boss! Female Reader

“Backed into a corner, Osamu makes a deal with the devil -- you.”

Rating: E for explicit | Don’t read this if under eighteen.

Warnings: oh boy. Dub-con (Osamu does consent, but it is coercion); MANIPULATION AND EXTORTION; slight gun play, lasts for a moment; Rough sex; Hate-fucking; Degradation/Humiliation; Spanking, also just for a moment; Oral sex, fingering; Orgasm Denial; Choking; Violence; Dash of corruption and prey/predator; Deep throat; Facial. Fucking in a kitchen/public place. Also, just in case, toxic relationship and money talk (lol).

Word count: 9,889 (such a nice number)

A/N: Oh, this has been a ride. This is my contribution to The Smut Pile Collab, hosted by the lovelies @present-mel, @pleasantanathema and @linestrider. I’m very excited to participate, since it is my first collab and they are my (home) first server. Big, huge, gigantic thanks to Lauren (my wife) for reading this over and beta-ing for me. <3

Well, Osamu fuckers unite! :insert elmo fire: (i’ve been on discord too much)

Osamu gets up from his seat inside his small office, looking from the small window on his door inside the already closed restaurant lit only by the lights that come in through the windows, the time being well after closing. Shady deals are mostly done late at night, he thinks. Right as he’s leaving the office and closing the door behind him with a key, the movement outside catches his eye and Osamu turns just in time to watch as the black BMW sedan of the year quietly comes to a halt right in front of his store. He frowns, knowing who that means. He'd much rather deal with the soldier responsible for his loan initially than with you.

Two men emerge from the front doors of the car, one immediately heading for the passenger door while the driver checks the street; they exchange a small nod before the man on the side of the sidewalk opens the passenger door and when he does, he positions himself behind it and immediately out of the way. Osamu could be intrigued by the action if he didn't feel so represented by it - he, too, would prefer to always be out of your way.

There’s power in the way you move, ingrained in your body as you descend an expensive white heel onto the concrete beneath you on the sidewalk, the other following suit while you propel yourself out, holding the frame of the car for support. It’s late at night and the street is fairly dark, but your simple presence, clad in an impeccable white suit with a deep neckline showing immaculate skin, is enough to brighten the place. There’s an elegant, expensive-looking and equally unnecessary coat draped over your shoulders and your hair was flawlessly styled.

You draw attention as the color black absorbs light-- from all and everything. Maybe it is because of your soul, he muses.

Once you were standing outside the car, your driver marched to the door of the onigiri restaurant, holding it open for you while you strode inside, heels clicking on the pavement, the sway of your hips something Osamu may think beautiful to watch if it weren’t you.

“Hello, Miya-san. Hope you have better news for me this week.” You state as cheerfully as you can, calmly entering the establishment in a glory of white. You shed your coat once you passed the door, the driver catching it while the second man seemed to survey the outside area a little more before entering.

"Hi." Osamu extends his hand with the brown envelope. But you go around him and walk to the counter, calmly sitting down on one of the high stools while absentmindedly looking around his small restaurant.

“I missed my lunch today, so I hope you don’t mind me grabbing a bite before I leave.” You don’t look at Osamu when he doesn’t move for his place behind the counter immediately.

“We’re closed.” He says and you turn around just momentarily, piercing eyes on his profile. One of your men is still by the door and the look he gives the twin is also very compelling. Osamu feels his teeth gritting against the pressure he makes to shut his tongue. "Sure."

One of the goons comes closer and takes the brown envelope from his hands, without you even looking back as the burly tattooed man sits in one of the booths and starts counting the money.

“So, how’s business? I’ve heard you had a hard time these last two months.” You try to make small talk while checking the menu over the counter, carefully done nails threading along the restaurant menu. You only press a long nail against what you want and slide it to him, the 18K diamonds on your small and discreet Cartier watch and matching trinity ring on your finger catching more of his attention than your watchful eyes. Your jewelry is discrete, tasteful, and still amounting enough to buy the whole building where the Onirigi’s shop is located. Osamu's throat moves around nothing in reflex.

"Isn’t it obvious?" He grumbles while working against the counter, starting once he cleans his hands on the sink. He’d like to say his eyes keep diverting to your neckline because of your shining jewelry.

"So rude, Miya." you chuckle. “And I’ve been nothing but nice to you. Didn’t you pay for your little plumbing problem with my money? Is it only dirty to you once I’m present?”

"I don’t like people like you." Osamu doesn’t beat around the bush. And once he’s done with this payment he’d be completely free of you anyway, he doesn’t feel the need to pretend.

“Like me? You mean kind? All I ever did was help you out in a time of need.”

Osamu’s snort is disrespectful. The big man by the door moves but a simple turn of your hand in the air has him standing back, carefully looking down on Osamu, but unmoving. The other’s still counting the money rather calmly, the booth he’s seated unseeable from the shop window.

“You see, disrespect won’t take you far.” You say offhand, your watchful eyes on Osamu’s every move but with no real worry. You don’t trust him, but you know he’s not stupid.

"I don’t plan on it." He answers you after a beat, finishing wrapping the Salmon onigiri, disposing it carefully on a plate, and depositing it in front of you, accompaniments arranged around. Osamu doesn't use the fact that he doesn't like you as an excuse for a half-ass job; he's not the type, which is refreshing. Is what you like about him.

“Get started on a few others. I trust your recommendations.”

Osamu chooses to work quietly, in silence. You, however, are happily chatting away at his high stool as if this is just another day of bullying patrons. Maybe, for you, it is.

“You work very diligently.” You observe, eyes trailing from his toned arms to his deft fingers diligently working on the rice ball. He’s fast and experienced, rolling the nori around the triangled shaped steamed rice after successfully filling it with whatever he chose. Osamu just grumbles out something, or tsk, even when the way you look at his fingers takes an unexpected appreciative turn.

“Maybe I should have you working overtime more.” You muse when he finishes the new onigiris and carefully places them in front of you. Osamu eyes you nastily, clearly displeased at your comment, which makes your lips split in a bigger smile despite your teeth closing around the rice ball. Even so, you’re pleasantly surprised by their flavor.

“See, this is why I like you, Osamu.” The man frowned at your loose use of his first name, the way it rolls off your tongue so nicely. “You always deliver good work.”

“It’s my job.” Osamu retorts, unamused. “I do it right even if it’s for…” He catches his tongue right in time, his eyes catching movement from the man seated down at one of the tables, almost biting his tongue in the process. “--people like you.”

Osamu watches while the burly man with tattoos moves discreetly despite his size, bends down so his mouth can be on your ear level, and murmurs something to you that he doesn’t quite catch. Your steely eyes are momentarily looking down when they blink and fly back to his face, a deep, blank stare that makes Osamu’s brows furrow. His back becomes straighter, a gripping feeling in his gut that triggers his fight or flight.

He presses the urge down - tells himself he doesn’t have anything to fear.

He’s looking down at you, but Osamu feels small under your steady glare. Which in reflex, after several years of being stupid in pair, makes him want to act up.

"Seems to me you forgot some money, Miya."

"What?" His shocked tone is harsh and his eyes dart between you to the two men behind you, looking as steady as his walls and just as broad. "I counted it twice, everythin’ I owe ya ‘s there." His accent comes out pretty hard when he’s agitated.

"You only have fifty thousand here."

“I owe ya fifty thousand.” Osamu deadpans, almost sneering. “What ’re ya sayin’?"

“No, Miya. Fifty thousand is what you owed me two weeks ago.”

"You gave me an extension." He argues, brows furrowed.

"Exactly. I never said anything about the interest.”

"What?"

"You forgot the interest." You talk to him as if he’s a child, lips turning upwards at his confusion. Osamu has the gut feeling you’re enjoying every second of this. Every little moment of his deep discomfort. “You were informed about them when you accepted the loan, you know how they work. If you don’t pay on the due date, 10 percent interest each extra week you remain in debt.”

"Are you telling me I'm missin’ over 10K in interest rates?

"Yes." You say, smiling while tilting your head sideways, analytical. "Because you are."

“I'm paying you back,” Osamu grits through his clenched teeth, almost as if he’s willing it to be true, “Everything I owed ya is there. ”

"Not quite. You’re paying me back about--” You smile and press your lips in thinking, eyebrows furrowing while you calculate on your head the exact number. “-- 82 percent of what you owe me.”

Osamu’s fists close, veins bulging while his heart picks up with the adrenaline rush of a fit of rage. Aggression flows on his body to the point where his entire frame trembles. His teeth are clenched, tightly forced together by his pressed jaw. His brain cannot reason beyond the need to vent that outrage, and with every second he spends looking at your pretty-faced indifference sitting in front of him at the counter, his outrage slowly merges into fury. Osamu stares back at your emotionless eyes, turns, and walks two strides before burying his fist in the nearest plaster wall, the pain grounding him, soothing his nerves.

Pain is familiar -- what Osamu doesn’t like is to feel so deranged.

"Fuck!" He exclaims loudly but still controlled, turns his broad back to you, breathes deeply a few times, and then settles. You watch in delighted silence as he moves to the freezer, grabs an iced pack of random food, and puts on his busted knuckles, his eyes on the hole he left on the wall; The twin sighs audibly, then walks back while coldly regarding you and your two watchdogs who look over to him carefully, almost startled.

You, however, didn’t even flinch.

"So how much do I still have to give you?"

“I think the better question is: Can you pay?”

“I’ll figure it out.” Osamu grumbles out, his clenched jaw working over grinding teeth.

“That’s not how this works, Miya.” You tell him, your spine regally straight on the high seat as if it is your throne. Your lips move around the next word with malice. “When.”

“I--” Osamu stops to think for a moment, coldly calculating his financial situation. He has no way to withdraw money from the main branch to try and cover the losses of this branch, that would be simply stupid. There is no way for him to borrow money from Atsumu, who doesn’t know the concept of savings; Kita can not help him with such a great amount and he can’t recur to his poor parents. He also doesn’t want to resort to a bank at all, which doesn’t leave him many options. A new extension raises interests and he doesn't think he can do it beyond the amount he would need to add. Osamu's chest slowly fills with dread - he knows what’ll come if he doesn’t pay and he refuses to let his business become a Mafia parlor.

You watch Osamu slowly and quite meticulously calculate his options while engrossed in reasoning his dreadful situation; it’s thrilling, you almost can’t hide the contentment blossoming in your chest at his desperate situation.

His expression shifts and turns sour, before slowly building back his blank façade but it’s too late, you already know his conditions and capacities - it’s your job to know. And you pride yourself in never making bets, just assuming calculated risks, so Osamu is right where you wanted him to be.

You do suspect the black-haired male is the same, that disinterested stare in his handsome face nothing short of sharp, his aloof behavior making every second of rilling Osamu up to this manifestation of discomfort all the more delightful. His only problem is that the man plays by rules you don’t. And what you want, you take.

“I’ll need an extension for the rest.” He finally says, so absolutely angered it’s almost a curse. Even the hostility in his tone makes a shiver run down your spine, all the hairs on your arms standing on edge while your insides slowly melt, fed by the images in your brain.

“Really?” You playfully answer, faked surprise not made to convince anyone. Osamu seethes in place, labored breathing making his chest move up and down. “See, now I can’t help you out. I told you disrespect would only take you so far.”

You get up from your seat, a show of touching your expensive black plump Louboutin on the ground. “I can’t let you out like this, not when you did such a show of being… rude.”

“What do you want.” Osamu almost spits at you once you’re rounding his counter, entering his space, closing on him. But he holds himself in place by pressing his nails hardly against the inside of his palms.

“First, some respect.” You sultrily say at him, much as a viper luring its prey. It rolls off your scarlet lips while you look up at him from your long lashes and perfect face. It makes Osamu want to wreck it.

“I don’t respect you.” He says in undertone since you’re close, sounding much like a hiss.

“Doesn’t seem like a smart thing to say to someone to whom you owe so much.” You purse your lips, fake pout. “And you seem like a smart man, Miya. Or am I wrong?”

Osamu blinks, brows furrowing while he looks down at you, his mind working.

“Where are you going with this?” He eyes you warily, his eyebrows furrowing, his mind trying to gauge the target of your wicked intentions. “You want something.”

You smile, pretty red lips stretching to show a beautiful line of white teeth and he’s surprised that the poison isn’t dripping.

“See, I knew you were smart.”

“I’m not giving you my business.” Osamu hisses, like a cornered animal, but his instance shows he’s more prone to fight than flee.

“Don’t want it.” You’re quick to tell him, innocence so out of place that it makes even clearer that you’re being honest. “I may need… services, though.”

Osamu’s spine shoots straight once again, his eyes sharp boring into your face with cold disdain.

“I’m not laundering your money.”

“Money launder, Miya? That’s a federal felony.” You lean back, supporting yourself on your forearms against the balcony, vigilant eyes zooming on him. “Are you saying I’m a criminal?”

Osamu stays silent for the first time. There’s a predatory glint in your eyes that he understands as a warning, but that doesn’t stop him from upturning his brow and tilting his head in a small challenge. Osamu is appalled at what your upturning lips do to his guts, swallowing the saliva that pools in his mouth. He must be wrong in the fucking head to feel anything else than disgust in your sight, but even so, there’s no denying the way there’s a devilish pull around you, like the temptation of a capital sin.

“What I mean is… I have a specific service for you, personally. So you could pay me in...” Your tongue snaps against the roof of your mouth with a small noise, lips turning up in vile intention, “Different goods, per se.”

Osamu refuses to accept his train of thought, eyes pressing into slits while he watches you. His tone enunciates every word of his question.

“What do you mean?”

Your answering smile is sordid.

“You know what I mean Miya, we’ve just established you’re not stupid.”

“I’m starting ta’ think you are, though.”

Your laugh is loud, cheerful even. It makes him look at you as if you’re insane.

“Maybe.” You chuckle, retreating your arms back and straightening your posture on the tool, your neck tilting to the side. “But when I want something, I want it. So why deny myself that? I find the whole point of self-control to be so… pedestrian.” There’s this contempt in your tone at the word, mixing into trivial once your shoulders shrug your consideration for a whole chunk of what living in a society means. “Why hold myself to it if I’m above?” Osamu chooses to ignore that question.

“And what if I say no?”

“You’re free to do what you want, I don’t own you.” Yet, you think, smiling. “Then again you still owe me 10k in interests and with your measly weekly 5k profit and the increased interest percentage with the second extension, we know what’ll happen to you… And I’d hate for that to happen to you.”

The silence is heavy and acidic, burning on him. And you let the seconds pass, relishing in the way he seems to grow aggravated, jaw overworking around nothing to bite, hands in fists by his side.

Oh, you’re close to defiling the pristine white of your designer clothes, the feeling brewing inside you threatening to spill between your thighs. Osamu looks absolutely delicious while being so emotional.

You can see the gears turning inside his pretty dark-haired head, his eyes looking around and back at you, threading down your face, to your neck to the plunging neckline of your suit - you elongate your body while he watches, pleased to have his eyes on you, especially when they're burning with unattended violence and aggression.

Osamu’s always so detached from the events happening around him, so unshakable in that aura of apathetic tranquility that it has caused you to develop an almost macabre interest in making him desperate. And now you are continually enjoying the result, the awakening of the flames that you always knew existed inside the small business owner.

A few minutes pass while you’re just content to watch, the knot in your stomach growing tighter as you appreciate the size of his shoulders, the strength hidden in the strong biceps, the broad, defined torso that you know exists under that simple black outfit simply by gut feeling alone. You are tempted to ask him to turn around so that you can also enjoy his backside.

“Ok.” He says in a breath that seems more like it was ripped out of his chest. Like a dead man last world. You like this analysis. But of course, he can’t have it so easy.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear. Did you say anything?”

Osamu purses his lips in discomfort, almost bites his tongue in the process of not telling you to go to hell.

“I said,” he entones again, though his disdain is showing. “Ok”

“Ok, what?” You press. Oh, the way how his veins bulge on his forearms when his nails press on his palms have your hairs standing on end. You blink at him with a smile, all too pleased with yourself.

“Ok, I’ll do it.” Osamu squeezes out, brows furrowed in discovering your intentions. You’re leering with wicked prowess.

“I don’t think that's how you say it, Miya.” Your brows go up in the tiniest indication of irritation. Your voice is calculated, though unable to hide the elation.

“Ok… Miss. I’ll do anything you want.” The words come out of his mouth sounding nothing like submission and much like he just cursed your whole generation, teeth grinding. Still, it makes you smile. You don’t want to break his spirit -- that’s why you chose him.

“That’s what I like to hear.” You say, pushing yourself out from the counter where you supported yourself. Coat long forgotten on top of it, you cross your arms in front of your breasts, knowing exactly how you look and very pleased at the way his eyes ever so slightly thread down your plunging neckline. “But not so fast. I didn’t tell you I’d accept it-”

“Ya just--” Osamu almost explodes, the arms he holded closed in front of him being thrown in the air as if he’d be ready to grab you. You just turn a hand up and reels at how he actually shuts up right after.

“I just told you, you could pay me in services.” You continue, one step closer to him in your expensive shoes, plump red lips dripping wicked intent.

“But,” You start, closer to him enough that your breath is touching his heated skin and you can smell the sweat his aggression produced, your mouth salivating at the thought of tasting it on his skin.

Your finger rests on his chest and you thread it up while speaking, looking him in the eyes, so pleased at finding so much life in his usual dead stare, “I don’t know if you’re good enough for the job yet.”

Osamu stares back at you, hands in fists forcibly stuck next to his body, feeling the way your hot breath trails on his jaw and hating himself for what it brews in his insides.

You stretch up in your heels, mouth dangerously close to his, which rests ajar to let his breathing out, enough that he can taste your mint breath on his tongue.

“I think I may need a little…” Your eyes thread down to his mouth and then back to his eyes while you speak your next words, “--taste, you know?”

Osamu flexes his fingers, swallows dry around his closed throat, stares at your face -- so close the downright devilish smile on your red lips seems to narrow his field-view -- and he blinks.

The Miya thinks how he wants to wipe that smile off your sinful lips. How he wants to have you trembling, unattended, and disheveled. He thinks about you begging with his name on your tongue, for a release that he’ll keep denying at his disposition. Osamu thinks about leaving you sore and marked, thinks about wrapping his hands around your neck to watch as you struggle, turning purple, life evading you while he fucks you; consider this may be the only way he’d ever had the opportunity to get even close to a payback.

Osamu wants you to experience mind-numbing pleasure you’d never before, uniquelly brought by him… and suffer through the rest of your fucking disgraceful life without being able to taste it again once he’s done paying his debt. Because Osamu swears on his fucking name and whole life, he’ll never give it to you again.

He can see your future already and in it you’re fucked - both by him and for him, while he’s the one who gets away. The twin wonders if you ever lost anything like this in your life, can feel himself growing hard at being the one to make you cry.

“Sure.” Osamu smiles, lopsided, the devil himself being safer than him. “I’ll give ya the taste ya deserve.”

Your eyes press slightly closer in mistrust, the wicked intention pouring from his body so close to yours impossible to miss. Either way, it's your win; that’s exactly what you’ve been bargaining for, despite your game being rigged from the start.

You bring your face close to his as if you were going to kiss him and you are delighted when his eyes go down, although not completely closed, his pupils focusing on your lips.

You smile and retreat, turning to your men still positioned exactly where you left them, behind the bench where you were sitting previously. They remain so observant and sharp as ever, despite looking more like gargoyles than men.

“I’ll need a moment.” You tell them in a serious tone, calm. They both look at you for a second and nod, their stances changing very little despite it. You turn back to him but walk inside his establishment as if you own the place, pushing through the doors that lead to the back and inside his small, equipped kitchen. Osamu follows in silence, briefly wondering if he’d be able to snatch a knife and bury it in your chest.

There’s not much outside cooking paraphernalia, with two big counters and taller than normal table in the center. You stop right in front of it, your hand threading over it for a moment.

“That’ll do.” You say while you turn around to look at him. You look so strikingly bright in the middle of his rather normal kitchen, clad in both lavish clothes and unblemished skin; he wants so much to be able to say your sight doesn’t thrill him -- but he can’t lie to himself.

But then you pointedly eye him and then the ground in front of you, “Kneel.”

Osamu considers his previous thought about burying a knife deep in your chest but walks, stiff, to where you indicated. He kneels with even less disposition than when he walked towards you, the descent slow until the ground’s hard tile is registered against his knee. He makes a point of looking into your eyes as he lowers, hatred overflowing in waves that seem to give you a sick satisfaction, your eyes becoming slightly out of focus.

The Miya’s about to ask what you’d want him to do next, like pledge himself or some shit, when your hands move to the hidden zipper on the side of your impeccable white pants.

It drops to the floor in one go, displaying the graceful planes of your hips, appeasing spanse of flesh, a small triangle of silk hiding your most private parts. Saliva pools in Osamu’s mouth at the sight, his teeth pressing against one another to avoid betrayal. He’s still unsure of what’s his next step until your heel digs on his shoulder painfully, using him as leverage to prop yourself up on the high table.

His eyes snap to yours while he bite his tongue to not curse you out loud. There’s a gun on top of his head that is a big warning for Osamu to behave -- not that he’d have the chance to escape with the watchdogs outside his only exit. If he had, you could be dead already.

Your suit threads up when you move up and slide on the table, the white silk panties peeking in between your open thighs. You move your beretta calmly off his face and thread it slightly, almost fondly, over your naked thigh.

You make a small show of removing your finger from the trigger and depositing it far on the table, enough to be out of his reach and almost yours too. You look back at him once you’re empty handed and just so open right there on the table for him.

“Behave, Osamu. You know you wouldn’t make it very far.”

Osamu grits his teeth but nods, your heel still supported on his shoulder but not digging on his skin anymore. You lay slightly back against his tabletop, forearms resting on the surface carefully. Dressed in a white, stylish suit like the last trend, the skin in between so bright it feels like a taunt, the curves of your breasts so ripe he wants to taste, the closed lapels looking like his own pathway to sin. He can feel his blood boiling, aggression throbbing, and he wants to paint you in red.

“Well then,” You start, happily above him, spread like a meal, “Show me if you’re good enough to pay your debt. Consider this your warrant.”

“Don’t worry.” Osamu drawls out with dripping distaste, his hand slowly, almost bored, threading up from your ankle to your knees. “I’ll fuck ya like you want it. Within an inch of your life.”

His hands lock on the back of your knees and he parts them forcefully, while you leave a yelp followed by laughter, your head thrown back with glee.

You smell of flowers and spice, so expensive he was surprised that you weren’t dripping fucking gold. His palms slide through the back of your thigh and the skin under his fingertips is soft and firm, all shapes of heaven despite being in sole service of the devil.

Osamu starts slowly, the table leaving you open just at the height of his neck while he’s kneeled on the ground, at the perfect height. His thumb presses on your skin while he holds one of your legs up, brings his lips to your knee. There’s a welcoming stain on your panties, and he scoffs at you despite the way his cock responds on his trousers.

“I haven’t even started and you’re already wet?” The way you smile at him is both infuriating and bewitching.

“What? Didn’t you enjoy our little foreplay earlier?” You tease him, plump lips locked under a row of teeth with mirth. His skin feels prickling and Osamu decides he needs more room, roughly pushing on your thighs until he can fit between them with room to spare.

It’s not fair, how good you feel, the delicious smell of your skin, the way your taunt alights him with fire in his veins.

Osamu knows it’s bait -- and he’s willingly falling for it.

When his lips start to thread on the inner part of your knee and up, the twin does it with the intention to mark; he sucks instead of kissing, licks instead of caressing, and bites once he finds the plush meat of your inner thighs.

It stings and you let the smallest of sounds, but Osamu feels it in his gut, brings his hot tongue to soothe over it, bask in the way you tremble under his fingertips just enough for him to sink his teeth and revel in the pain on your groan.

His nose treads along the furthest expanse of the joining of your thighs, touches the silk of your expensive panties, senses the way you tense and watches while your pussy trembles, even while still covered by fabric.

He considers holding back his tongue, but Osamu has never been the type to be held back by the threat of punishment. And you’ve shown to clearly enjoy his fiery side.

“Such an eager pussy right here, isn't it?” He threads his nose against the wet patch in the silk, carefully breathes against the covered lips. Osamu lets one of his shoulders bear one leg and brings his thumb to pass over the growing wet patch. “Sticky.” He presses it from the wetness to the place where your clit should be, watches as you respond to his touch with aborted movement. “Such a slut.” It’s supposed to be degrading, but there’s a hint of appreciation in his words that isn’t lost on you. “Is this all it takes for my debt? It’ll be finished in a second then.”

Your mouth opens to retort but closes in time to withhold a moan before it falls through your lips. His thumb’s pressing against your clit in tight circles while the index of his other hand threads over your covered cunt. Turns out Osamu has moves to back up the big talk.

He’s methodical, clearly good and deft with his fingers, controlled pressure applied in a way that has you writhing on the table despite your intention to make this hard on him. Your desire to make him work for it, apparently, is no match for his.

Osamu presses the tips of his fingers on your clothed entrance, enough force that it barely breaks inside you but the teasing has you churning on the table for him, legs trying to part beyond limits, body arching where it’s been relegated. Your chest feels hot and heavy despite the little clothing. You’re hoping for the moment where he’ll tease the hard nipples pressing against the flimsy lace of your bralet and the inside of your suit with the same intensity he’s depositing on your cunt.

Osamu, on the other hand, has no rush. You did this, gave this opportunity for him to wreck you, and he plans on enjoying it to the bitter end. He’s fairly surprised at how responsive you are, how quickly you melt for him, how vocal you can be despite doing little more than grunts and sighs. A thought flashes through his mind when he feels a renewed wave of wetness blossom against the fabric where his fingers are pressing, his lips turning in a self-satisfied smirk.

“Have you been so desperate for a good cock you’ve resorted to blackmail?” Your eyes snap open at his voice, a warm wave of something that you refuse to believe in being embarrassment depositing in your cheekbones. Osamu’s fingers prod harder against your entrance, fingers spreading against the wet fabric to your outer lips while his thumb keeps drawing endless circles around your clit. “Tsk, what a dirty move from an even dirtier slut.”

He slaps your clit once, then twice, his bulking frame preventing you from closing your legs against the sudden pain. Your body trembles on unsteady forearms. You choke on a breath and then release a moan, the sound outrageous to Osamu even as his cock throbs from it.

“Maybe I’ll give ya what you want.” The Miya teases, his voice sounding even despite the turmoil inside him. You look up at him with such eyes he could fool himself into thinking he wanted this.

His fingers teether on the edge of your underwear, rough fingertips just daring to cross into the emanating heat. Your hips twitch, the emptiness inside you accentuated by your muscles clenching around nothing, desire pouring out against the prodding fingertips. Osamu snorts, throws you a hard stare that is equal parts fire and contempt.

“You’re so wet. Are you enjoying this that much?” It drips acidic from his tongue against your neck, after he bends himself over you. From so close, Osamu’s warm breath is the same as a caress, his tongue teasing you with the way it threads over his lips but doesn't extend the courtesy to your skin. “You’re rather easy to rile up, hah? Or is it that you enjoyed playin’ with me before?” His teeth flash white above your head and you swallow around the desire of having them plunging on your skin. “How was it ya said? Foreplay, hah?”

You feel weirdly wound up inside your own skin, as if there’s not enough space and still a growing void inside you waiting for him to fill. It’s insane, it’s delicious, and a loud moan breaches your throat when Osamu plunges two fingers inside you without warning.

Your body arches in such a curve your breasts press against his chest, the relieving brush too shallow to register in your brain when you’re hyper fixated on the sensation brewing inside you.

It doesn’t even sting, instead you feel like your hunger escalates, fed by such little push that your want becomes need and for the first time in forever you actually consider asking for something.

Your mouth opens, and Osamu snickers. “What?” He presses his thumb over your clit fast, relinquishes in the way you groan, feels the way your insides beg him to keep going.

Still not enough though. He wants it ruined for you.

“Maybe I’ll just make you cum on my fingers right here.” He spreads, scissor and twists them inside you, enjoying the feeling of your tight walls clenching around him at his every move. Osamu’s skin feels on fire, body overheating, and the way your lips turn up to reveal a line of white teeth in glee has his gut twisting.

“You have a pretty loose tongue for such a quiet guy.” You look at him with semi-closed eyes, the victorious smile of the cat who got the mouse. “Maybe you like me more than you thoug--ahhhhh!”

Osamu shoves and prods around your insides for that special place even demons like you have and his assault is nothing short of merciless. Your eyes snap open at the force of his ramming, eyebrows furrowing at the way your pleasure seems to have forgone climb to skyrocket instead. Osamu watches in begrudging enchantment while your lips fall open to suck air into your breathless lungs and your eyes grow unfocussed, shoulders falling against the table so your hands can come to hold his arms but for what he doubts even you know.

He’s not stopping. Until he does.

You let out a noise like a wounded animal, tethering on the edge of mind numbing pleasure he won’t give you and when your body trembles from exertion of a denied orgasm instead of bliss, Osamu’s chest swells in pride.

“Whydidyoustop?” You lament in one breath, eyes are blinking back into focus, sweat and - oh he hopes those are tears - droplets dripping from the corner of your eyes while you turn to press your face on the cold metal surface of the table. “I was so close!” This time you rage, nails pressing against his skin enough to hurt.

“Wadidya mean?” Osamu tilts his head sideways, patronizing. “You didn’t ask for it. I’m just doing what you told me: being respectful.”

You laugh, still breathless, and turn to him in disbelief. “Fucker.”

“Not yet,” He corrects you, nuzzling his hips on your thighs. “Maybe if you ask nicely enough.”

Osamu retreats while you regulate your breath, letting your useless legs fall limp while both of his hands come to help your panties down, marveling at the way they’re peeled off your wet pussy lips. His cock aches and demands, but he’s used to reining in his dick. And he’s just started, anyway.

The Miya pushes you forward on the table, opening your legs wide like a treat. Your pussy is glistening, rhythmically calling for something to fill it while you leak. He plunges a finger back inside to watch you tremble, stimulation enough to make your eyes fall closed, long black lashes against beautiful sweaty skin.

“Look at this.” Osamu plunges a second finger inside, opening them wide enough to sting. “What a desperate whore.”

Your mind is swirling in urge, but you refuse to spill the words on your tongue. It would give you what you want, but at what cost? Osamu looks positively ferocious above you, dark eyes focused on your every move; it sends shivers through your spine, your body trembling and blossoming for him once again. You’re in your personal heaven, in company of the devil himself.

Osamu kneels again in front of your open legs, hook one on his shoulder while he holds the other thigh forcefully up with a grip so hard your muscle aches under his fingers. But you don’t care, in fact you sigh “more” for him right as his breath teases your folds.

“No.” He tells you, two fingers pumping at leisure. His tongue slurps at your inner thigh, teeth closing in a bite with nothing to sooth.

“Fuck.” You breathe out in a groan and his smirk is pronounced against your skin.

Osamu, as you’re learning, is a tease.

His moves are soft, lacking in everything but aim; his tongue moves along the sensitive parts of your body you’ve never really cared for, like the plush flesh of your thighs, underside of your ass, the juncture of your groin. He has yet to taste you but you feel wounded, body constricted under weak ministrations, feather-like teases. It sinks with a piercing revelation that you could cum like this -- in an unfulfilled manner with not-good-enough touches that somehow have made your body feel raw like an exposed nerve in which the minimum touch would be enough to warrant waves of pleasure.

When his tongue comes to thread along your slit slowly, nose caressing along his way, your body clenches and threatens to spasm around unmoving fingers. You’re so close, so close, your body is ready to burst, fraying at the seams of a control you’re not using, your hands flying to try and find your clit at the same time Osamu’s eyes flash and he holds it, presses it forcefully against your belly while his lips slurp at your folds, circle your clit, but it’s so soft, it’s fucking unfair.

“Goddammit, Osamu!” You scream, enraged at the way your second orgasm flies away from you as his fingers leave your quivering hole, his mouth doing nothing more than lap at your overflowing juices with no real worry, no urgency.

“Oh, look at that.” The Miya smirks, drawing back up to look at your disheveled state; flustered, sweating, dripping and unattended. “You wanted a taste.” His hand comes back to your cunt, fingers thread along puffy lips. “I’m giving it to you.”

“You bastard.” His fingers leave your heat just to plunge inside again, a loud gushing sound following it. “Shit.” You sigh while falling back, and Osamu feels his cock throb once more at how breathless you sound.

Your mind works around the feeling of being spread so far you feel as if you’re paper thin. Your mind goes rushing in its last attempt at working. Osamu looks self-satisfied, almost content, so you know where to hit. You want it, so you find a way to have it.

“Oh, poor Miya--” You coo at him with a hoarse voice in glazed eyes, but the condescending tone is clear as day. “Are you trying to hurt me?” You plant a hand on his black hair, pulling at it enough to hurt. “‘Cause I like pain.”

Fire explodes in his eyes and you tighten around his fingers in response, but other than his frown, Osamu remains calm.

He slams three fingers inside before you can mouth any new words, smirks down at you with mischief when you tremble and bite your lips to hold the noises in, eyes falling back closed to hide the way they turn inside your skull. His other hand is holding your thigh forcefully open once again and his palm presses with hurtful intention, fingertips buried in your flesh so hard his digitals may mark you for days.

“Let you cum on my fingers and nothing else, is that going to be enough for you?” Osamu snarls against your ear, hot breath tickling your jaw. His hips hold you open to his assault at your pussy and his hand abandons your thigh to glide over your body and close around your throat.

Osamu squeezes hard.

“Then again I could ruin your orgasm for the third time.” He bends over you, his lips right in front of your sight; eyes looking down at you with such fire you almost wonder if they’re the cause for the burn in your lungs. “Leave you writhing on the table, empty, until you learn to have a little respect.”

This.

Your lips spread in a smile almost maniacal, goosebumps rising on your skin as if you’re electrified. This is what you’ve wanted all along -- passion, fearless assault of words, electrifying pleasure; and also, the detachment, the murderous intent, all merging together in one perfect Osamu Miya. Shit, you think to yourself, at this hate you may actually come from his teasing alone.

“You talk too much for someone who didn't make me cum yet.” You pour gasoline into his fire.

Osamu pulls you up by the lapels of your suit, button flying open at the hastiness, your breasts protected by such a flimsy piece of lace you’re surprised it doesn’t turn to ash at his stare. Your hard nipples mark the white bralet, the air feeling cold at how hot they are.

A hand covered in your juices closes on your cheeks, forcefully opening your lips at the threat of pain, his fingers with lingering heat from your insides.

“Such a big mouth, should I shut you up?” Osamu asks you, eyes boring on yours. The plea is on the point of your tongue as if he’d shoved his hand inside you to yank it himself, and it tips out when his dark eyes steal one single snippet of your smeared red lips open by his hands.

“Fuck me.”

He nods negatively, presses hard enough that your teeth could cut your inner cheeks. He relents and your tongue grazes your lips, moistening them for his eyes.

Osamu smiles, a tilt of his lips up but so earnestly you’re almost hopeful, then: “No.”

Even if as he says it, it’s a lie. He knows he’ll fuck you, but right now he’s enjoying the build-up, toying with you as if you’re his plaything and not the opposite. You growl and curse, head falling back when he palms at your covered breasts, push the lace up, hears the way it strains and threatens to rip.

It’s oddly relatable -- Osamu also feels taut, stretched around a fleeting control that he feels will slip with one dip inside you. His past sexual experiences involved partners who he cherished and few one-night stands which, for the small time his dick was inside them, he was mindful and cared for their pleasure.

Right now, while he pinches and palm at your body, he has not a single worry about your pleasure and all the concern about his. This is for him. He bends his head over your bosom, sucks a nipple inside the hot cave of his mouth and bites. As his cock twitches and aches inside his trousers, he relishes in the pained noises you leave, even when they’re marked by breathless arousal.

“You sure are fucked up. Look how much you’re enjoying this.” His fingers force the howl of your cheeks, feeling your teeth nicking the insides of your mouth even through layers of flesh. There’s an infuriating elation in your expression, and Osamu retaliates by sucking harshly on your skin, teeth finding soft places to close on.

You moan loudly and his hand slides back onto your throat in the motion. Your hand shots up from the table to find his hard dick and your laugh makes his blood boil. “Clearly I’m not the only one.”

His heartbeat spikes at the words, even if Osamu knows it. The twin pulls the suit jacket half-down your arms and slams your body on the slight cold surface of the metal table, noise sounding thunderous but still no one comes after you.

Your skin erupts in goosebumps at the aggression, blood flying so fast through your heart you feel lightheaded. You’re about to spit some more fire into Osamu when two of his fingers gag you, other hand descending on your ass with such force and so unexpectedly your legs give out, dangling from the table as if you’re a ragdoll.

Something remarkably close to a whine turning sob slides through your throat and dies at Osamu’s fingers, just as something big and hot surges over your ass cheeks. Something coils on your chest, the emotion makes your eyes water and for a moment you blink it away, thanking the new position doesn’t let Osamu catch that.

Too soon. Osamu pulls your head back as his hand peels the globes of your ass apart and before you can breathe, the little air inside you is being knocked out with one thrust of Osamu’s hip.

He forces his dick inside you, tearing you open as your walls make way for his aggression, wetness dripping while Osamu fills you to the hilt, because yes, that's what you want. You want his hate, his passion, you want Osamu to tear you apart while you enjoy every second of it.

“‘Samu!” His name is on your lips as your eyes roll back, whole body tensing until you’re falling, just like that.

Then he retreats. “Fuck! Fuck no!” This time it’s a wail, a sob as your third orgasm turns to ashes, your insides trembling with nothing to hold, empty and meager pleasure.

“Wha--Cummin’ already? Nope.” The twin laughs above you, hands tilting your head painfully back. “So embarrassing.” Osamu mocks you and you swear you can feel a renewed wave of cream slide down your insides to greet the head of his cock, nudging along your swollen lips. Your tongue feels so heavy on your mouth, parched and breathless all at once, no way out but silence.

“You are disgusting, you know that? Such a greedy fucking pussy doesn’t deserve to be this tight.”

Your laugh turns into a deep moan when Osamu hits deep inside you. “God yes.” You twist one hand out of the suit’s sleeve just to pull him by the hem of his blouse, your nails digging against the skin of his neck, blooming red yelts. “Talk shit to me Osamu. I know you have better lines.”

“Fuck you.” The twin spits, his hips pistoning harder against yours until he just stops the motion, leaves you open and gapping for him to fill you again. “Of course a pig like ya has the hots for humiliation. Look at that, the slut’s pussy squeezing around my dick because she thinks I'm doing this for her pleasure.” His hand comes down on the other side of your ass, where he hasn't hit yet. It stings, but the way his palm massages and grabs at it before almost soothes the burn. “Disgusting sluts don’t get to say anything, not even begging will get you what you want. I decide what you get."

You look back from your shoulder to see his cock is standing proud and angry, swollen head shining red and dripping translucent white, as if he hadn't been wet from your juices before. Osamu’s big, especially thick and he presses inside you again without giving you time to adjust, unforgiving pace right from the start.

You curse at the way one of your hands keeps locked behind you by your suit, your nails digging on your own skin without anything else to find purchase on; the other tries to grab onto Osamu to no avail, falling on the table to help support yourself at the strength of his pounding. Your mouth is open, divided between sucking breaths and puffs of air. Osamu’s hand has since found purchase in your neck, the way he forces it back painful, the pressure on your throat growing and ceasing as he wishes.

Still, you can’t think. Your mind is lost in a sea of searing pleasure, your nipples pressed against the metal surface as Osamu finally fucks you as you’ve been dreaming. No, maybe even better. The past men you’ve fucked had all been afraid of hurting you, careful with retaliation. As Osamu fists your hair and forcefully presses you against the table; you think you may be having a religious experience. Your eyes water from the force of his manhandling, tears spilling while you left unbelievable noises fall from your lips. You want to scream and laugh, a hot sensation spreading from your fingertips to your core.

The wave of the orgasm is forming quickly, your toes curling against the insides of your Louboutins enough to hurt, the incessant pounding of Osamu’s hips against your ass sounding downright pornographic. As the peak approaches, doubt gnaws at your chest for the first time in forever.

The simple thought of Osamu robbing you of your orgasm this time is enough to make your whole body tremble and recoil, your mind too slow to catch on to his intentions. You consider biting your tongue to hold the plea in, but as you bolt into mind-blowing pleasure you’ve never even imagined before, the alternative feels like dying.

You’re tethering the edge and you feel Osamu pressing harder against you, and you break. “Please!” You cry out, “Pleasepleaseplease, don’t stop.” His movements slow down and halt, and the hand on your ass slides around you, a single finger taps repeatedly on your swollen clit.

“Say it.” He all but howls at your ear, bites on it for good measure.

“Please, ‘samu, let me fucking cum!” You beg but you’re already falling over, whole body shuddering just from the way he nudges his hips against your ass and taps on your sensitive bundle of nerves. Panic surges in between your pleasure that he’ll ruin this one when he retreats from your quivering insides, but Osamu rams back inside you with such power that your head rattles, hips hurting from the impetus of his fucking.

Sound rings in your ear while you drown in the thunderous waves of your pleasure for what feels like forever. It flows and flows and flows to a point you can’t tell if you’re seeing black or just closed your eyes.

Osamu watches, enthralled, how you go completely boneless under him. Your insides have stopped squeezing him tight but his hard, aching cock still throbs inside your heat. It’s honestly unbelievable how tight you feel around him, how fantastic he feels buried balls deep inside your walls. He had to stop trying to fuck you through your orgasm in worry he’d may cum. Poison and pleasure curl in his chest at the thought. Osamu feels like spanking you, choking you, to punish you for this undeserving heaven you have between your thighs.

But he’s not done yet.

Osamu retreats, the slide of his cock leaving your delicious walls -- cold air from outside so less welcoming -- and you sag on the table. He pulls you up on unsteady legs and smirks, proud. Your bare feet touch the ground and Osamu spins you around, swallowing on a tight throat after one look at your disheveled blissful state, but then he retreats and let’s you collapse to the ground.

The image of your legs sliding open on the cold tiled floor, unsteady hands finding purchase to hold your torso up while your head looks up at him in outrage is one he sears in his mind, a wicked satisfaction sliding over his spine at the sight alone. The wreck of you at his feet, by his hands, nothing short of perfect.

His cock throbs and pulses in front of your eyes, dragging your attention and Osamu steps closer, poses one hand on the top of your head, ruins the rest of your styled hair by dragging fingertips in it.

You’re still lightheaded, shockwaves making you twitch on the cold floor and Osamu is elated at how wrecked you look, makeup smeared, hair disheveled, body holded up by unsteady arms. Your lips are open, between breathless pulls of air and heavy exhales, but Osamu doesn't care, hands forcefully tugging your hair back and angling your mouth at his swelled cockhead. He counts as a win that you don’t bite him, your tongue threading flat on the underside of his length as he buries himself on your throat.

There’s resistance, so the Miya retreats, forcing it back a few other times until it finally slides a few inches more inside. While he maintains the force over your hair, his other hand engulfs your chin, thumb breaching your lips to hold your mouth open despite the fact you don’t make any move to close it.

It feels his chest with acidic bitterness that you welcome his aggression, glazed, tearful eyes looking up at him as if the fact he’s using you as little more than a cocksleeve is the brightest part of your day. Still, Osamu’s skin feels close to tearing under the sheer amount of pleasure flooding his insides. His hairs are standing on end, heart beating so fast his lungs burn, every muscle on his body tensed at his mindless pursuit of his high. He buries his cock deep inside the tight space of your throat, your gurgles and groaning enhancing his sensation. It looks painful to you to hold him inside, tears ending your makeup, face turning red at the lack of air. He closes both hands behind your head, making you nuzzle his pelvis even as your nails close on his thighs threatening to break skin.

He retreats to let you breathe just as your eyes go unfocused, feels something squeezing inside as you cough and wheezes and his throat squeezes a large gulp of air when you look up at him, tongue hanging out with a wide-open mouth just offered for him.

Osamu feels like hurting you at how good you are, infuriatingly obedient and willing to be at the end of his aggression. So he buries himself back inside at one go, both hands holding your head for him. There’s too much chaos inside of him, so he decides to pour some out through words.

“You like being used like this, huh? Like little more than a fucking cocksleeve for me.”

“What is it? Does being in power make you this needy? Does being wrecked make you feel this good?” Your groan makes your throat tighter around him, your eyes rolling back from his fucking and degradation.

It’s unfair, infuriatingly so, that this might be the most unbelievable great sex he ever had.

Osamu can’t hold back much longer, everything feeling just too good, his skin burning at the stretch of the tourbillion of emotions inside his chest, the captivating sight of tears dropping from your jaw and coating your long lashes as your face darkens by the lack of air, swollen lips stretched beyond capacity around his cock while you willingly let him go harder, faster, into your tight throat. There’s a warm sensation flowing from his limbs to his spine, melting his bones and weighing on his balls until it spreads over Osamu’s whole being.

He pulls back from your throat in time but presses his hands on your jaw and hair to keep you up and open as he coats your wrecked face with hot spurts of cum -- the final touch to the perfection of your wrecked image at his feet.

It lands haphazardly over your lips and even your eyelashes, tear-stained mess of a face marked by his essence. Osamu tells himself he could never feel anything towards you, but for a second there’s a hint of territorial pride at how you look -- and how it is all his doing. The twin is still swimming in searing pleasure as you lick over your lips, hands almost fondly landing over his as if you're assuring him that he can let go.

He does, trying to step back and slowly descending onto the ground when his knees give out. His eyes are glued to how his cum is dripping from your chin onto your chest, how you bring your fingers to sweep over it and end it by cleaning the digits with your tongue. If Osamu’s cock wasn’t so spent, he’s sure it’d swell right back up at the sight alone.

“Can’t say what’s better,” your hoarse voice is barely above a murmur, “the taste or the feeling.”

As you’re standing on unsteady legs and already fixing yourself while he sits on the floor questioning his life choices, Osamu feels as if he’d made a deal with the devil, and you’ll be coming back to collect his soul.

“Seems like the start of a nice partnership, doesn’t it?”

#osamu miya smut #osamu miya #osamu miya hq #haikyuu smut #tw dubcon #thesmutpilecollab #hq fanfic #osamu miya x reader

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ladyorlandodream · 3 years

Text

Lady Dimitrescu-tag FanFiction List PART 3

here the links for part 1 part 2 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7

401) Venomous Lips (Chapters in progress)

402) She Won't Take Kindly To Grandmama (Chapters Completed)

403) Danse Macabre (Chapters in progress)

404) When Things Go Bump in the Night (Chapters in progress)

405) At the Beginning (Chapters in progress)

406) Within Dark Corridors (Chapters in progress)

407) Obeying Mother Miranda (short story)

408) The Strength of Her Embrace (short story)

409) I'd Rather it be Me Than You. (short story)

410) Guiding Star (Chapters in progress)

411) Blood of a Song So Sweet (Chapters in progress)

412) Indulgence (Chapters in progress)

413) Allergies (Chapters in progress)

414) Unholy Sanctuary (short story)

415) You Had Me Worried (short story)

416) Insomnia (short story)

417) Caring Hearts (short story)

418) Not a Poet (short story)

419) Only You, Forever and Always (short story)

420) ・ (short story)

421) Forever with you, Mother (short story by me, changing capcom ending)

422) Chemicals React (Chapters in progress)

423) The Lady’s Lapdog (Chapters in progress)

424) Sanguineum Miseria (Chapters in progress)

425) Antistrophes (Chapters in progress)

426) A Different Plan (short story)

427) Like a Duck Takes to Water (short story)

428) Shadows on you (short story)

429) Eternal (Chapters in progress)

430) Nu e mai bun decât tine. (Chapters in progress)

431) Just a bad dream, darling (short story)

432) In another life (Chapters Completed)

433) În viață respirăm, În moarte dormim (In life we breathe, In death we sleep)

434) To Exist In Your Space (Chapters in progress)

435) Come let's play a game Winters (Chapters in progress)

436) Tăcere (Chapters in progress)

437) Reborn in Fire (Chapters in progress)

438) She Who Waits in the Dark (Chapters in progress)

439) Down with the lady (Chapters in progress)

440) Mother knows best (Chapters in progress)

441) Shadow of the Four (Chapters in progress)

442) Where the Watermelons Rot (Chapters in progress)

443) Sharing is Caring (short story)

444) Dead Man's Party (short story)

445) Sexual Education (short story)

446) A Storm (short story)

447) Like a dying phoenix (short story)

448) personal, no. out of spite? yes. (short story)

449) Uninvited Guest (short story)

450) Warmth (short story)

451) Oh shit? You're Alcina's maid! (short story)

452) Raindrops on Roses and Whiskers on Kittens (short story)

453) Every Mother's Nightmare (short story)

454) Mother 母亲 (short story, not english)

455) The waterfall (short story)

456) A Guest of Castle Dimitrescu (Chapters in progress)

457) You Dare Hurt My Daughters?! (short story)

458) 【夫人×伊森】孕育 (short story, not english)

459) Entertaining Foreigners (Chapters in progress)

460) Fuck Canon (Chapters in progress)

461) Eros and Psyche, permit me the vision of thy form (short story)

462) The Consequences of Curiosity (short story)

463) Unexpected Circumstances (short story)

464) Size (short story)

465) Common Grounds (Chapters in progress)

466) Heisenburg, You dirty dog (Chapters in progress)

467) an honest death (Chapters in progress)

468) Hello Sorrow (Chapters in progress)

469) The Daughters of Castle Dimitrescu (Chapters in progress)

470) Amantă Sângeroasă (Chapters in progress)

471) Rescue (Chapters in progress)

472) Jealousy almost Kills (short story)

473) The Embrace (short story)

474) Room For One More? (short story)

475) Mother (short story)

478) Mess (short story)

479) To Lose a Life so Precious (short story)

480) Compliments (short story)

481) Vampirii (short story)

482) Your Sharp and Glorious Thorn (Chapters in progress)

483) And Icarus Looked Straight Into The Sun As He Burned (Chapters in progress)

484) Even in this, the darkest of nights, I see her Moonlight (Chapters in progress)

485) Blood and Chains (Chapters in progress)

486) De-a V-aţi Ascunselea (Chapters in progress)

487) A Nightmare Dressed Like A Daydream (Chapters in progress)

488) offer it a soul (Chapters in progress)

489) A Garden of Steel (Chapters in progress)

490) Just as Boredom Tempts The Cat to Break a Glass... (Chapters in progress)

491) Misthios (Chapters in progress)

492) The (Un)lucky Chosen (Chapters in progress)

493) Homewrecker (Chapters in progress)

494) Within The Castle Walls (Chapters in progress)

495) Unleash the Beast (short story)

496) It's Just a Dream! (short story)

497) the art of loving you [alcina dimitrescu] (short story)

498) Drowning Her Sorrows (short story)

499) Sommelier (short story)

500) do you see me? (please tell me you do) (Chapters in progress)

501) Mother of Two (short story)

502) Bloodlust (short story)

503) Lady Dimitrescu x buttermilkink (short story)

504) Break Me (short story)

505) Oh, that’s not what she thought was happening (short story)

506) Vena Amoris (Chapters in progress)

507) Don't look at the moon (or do?) (Chapters in progress)

508) The Tailor’s Daughter (Chapters in progress)

509) here come the sun (Chapters in progress)

510) Call of the Castle (Chapters in progress)

511) Dawn of Love (Chapters in progress)

512) A Wildflower in Early Bloom (Chapters in progress)

513) Custody Arrangements (Chapters in progress)

514) In The Red (Chapters in progress)

515) The Things That We Become (Chapters in progress)

516) Yield to Her (Chapters in progress)

517) Resident Evil Village but awesome: the prequel (short story)

518) Power (short story)

519) we'll cast some light and you'll be alright (for now) (short story)

520) the taste of crimson (short story)

521) Your New Master (Chapters in progress)

522) Trapped In A Nightmare (Chapters in progress)

523) Meet the family. (Chapters in progress)

524) The Way of the World (Chapters in progress)

525) Shadow Work (Chapters in progress)

526) Family Bonding (Chapters in progress)

527) Sick Day (short story)

528) Liberum Vinculorum (short story)

529) Sing for your Supper (short story)

530) Insulă (short story)

531) self-help (short story)

532) Mother of Three (short story)

533) A Talk With Angie (short story)

534) Mind Your Mouth, Man-thing (short story)

535) leviathans (short story)

536) viata dupa moarte (short story)

537) Game of Survival (short story)

538) so don’t come looking for me. I’ve got no joy to lend (short story)

539) Drop-By (short story)

540) The Witches' Funeral (short story)

541) Of Cakes and Late Celebrations (short story)

542) Forever and Always (Chapters in progress)

543) I Bite Back (Chapters in progress)

544) Welcome, Ethan Winters (Chapters in progress)

545) Harvest (Chapters in progress)

546) Blood Not So Vile (Chapters in progress)

547) Only Monsters Come Out At Night (Chapters in progress)

548) Én, a B.F. (B.O.W.) (Chapters in progress in Magyar)

549) A True Home (Chapters in progress)

550) A gift to some , a curse to others (Chapters in progress)

551) The beauty of the grotesque (Chapters in progress)

552) Blessing or Curse (Chapters in progress)

553) Parasite Blues (Chapters in progress)

554) Obedient Servant (Chapters in progress)

555) ice cold sweat (Chapters in progress)

556) in her mercy (short story)

557) Hemorrhage (short story)

558) Dragon Claw (short story)

559) Mother Miranda's secret (short story)

560) Pregnancy Cravings (short story)

561) Sacraments (short story)

562) Resident Evil Village but awesome: the third installment (short story)

563) tooth and nail (short story)

564) Picture Perfect (short story)

565) Notes on Colvyr (short story)

566) In Her Anguish (short story)

567) Someones Waiting For You (short story)

568) Exposure (Chapters in progress)

569) the moments between (Chapters in progress)

570) The Lady and Her Loyal Knight (Chapters in progress)

571) RE : VILLAGE (Chapters in progress)

572) Resident Evilove (Chapters in progress)

573) Las Siete Maravillas (Chapters in progress in Spanish)

574) Most Favourable (Chapters in progress)

575) The Factory (Karl Heisenberg x f/reader) (Chapters in progress)

576) How Far Can One Go For Family? How Far Would You Go To Protect Family? The Dark Side of Life! (Chapters in progress)

577) hirudo medicinalis (leech therapy) (Chapters in progress)

578) What's His is Mine and What's Mine is Mine (short story)

579) I fancy you, Ethan Winters. || A resident Evil Fanstory (Chapters in progress)

580) Cursed Summer Vineyards (Chapters in progress)

581) Shadow and Bone (Chapters in progress)

582) Flowers and Flies (Chapters in progress)

583) On a soft bed, delicate (Chapters in progress)

584) Corrupted Sin (Chapters in progress)

585) Friction (Chapters in progress)

586) 5+1 times Karl Heisenberg was an idiot and got into trouble (Chapters in progress)

587) Licensed to Carnage (Chapters in progress)

588) Vampires have pets too (Chapters in progress)

589) Blood Atonement (Chapters in progress)

590) Beastial Natures (Chapters in progress)

591) A mothers rage and a sons vengance (Chapters in progress)

592) A Mothers Grief (short story)

593) A Simple Song (short story)

594) Sacrificial Lamb (short story)

595) Prepare for trouble and make it quadruple. (short story)

596) Delicios (short story)

597) Escape (short story)

598) Daniela's reign of terror...? (short story)

599) He's no better than you. (Chapters in progress)

600) Eternal (Chapters in progress)

601) Call Me Calloused, Call Me Cold (Chapters in progress)

602) The Plunge (Chapters in progress)

603) Of Stars and Moonlit walks (Chapters in progress)

604) A gift (Chapters in progress)

605) Witchling (Chapters in progress)

606) Created By Man (Chapters in progress)

607) Happy Family Living - Generic Second chance in life fanfic (Chapters in progress)

608) i feel like pulling my guts out (Chapters in progress)

609) I'll See You in the Village (Chapters in progress)

610) Working With Metal (and Not Happy About That) (Chapters in progress)

611) A Faithful Maid (Chapters in progress)

612) Creatures of the Night (Chapters in progress)

613) handle with care (short story)

614) Like A Phoenix, We Are Reborn (short story)

615) She Never Liked Flies (short story)

616) Little Darling Of Mine (short story)

617) Miss You (short story)

618) Certified Simp (short story)

619) In which Alcina breaks your leg and it’s Incredibly Awkward (short story)

620) The Great Morel Garden (Chapters in progress)

621) Metal Wire (Chapters in progress)

622) Ember In My Darkness (Chapters in progress)

623) The Other Side (Chapters in progress)

624) Wonder (Chapters in progress)

625) Nightmares In Castle Dimitrescu (Chapters in progress)

626) Exhaustion. ||KARL HEISENBERG X READER|| MAJOR TW (Chapters in progress)

627) See something you like, Maiden? (Chapters in progress)

628) Man Eater (Chapters in progress)

629) Anything For You (Chapters in progress)

630) The Bride (Chapters in progress)

631) Seraphim and The Angel...or is she? (short story)

632) False Gift (short story)

633) Like A Doll (short story)

634) A Lonely Night (short story)

635) athirst | lady dimitrescu x fem! reader smut (short story)

636) To Serve Castle Dimitrescu (short story)

637) Show me you need it (short story)

638) Hung Up (short story)

639) Unbelievable (short story)

640) Thicker than Blood (Chapters in progress)

#lady dimitrescu #lady alcina dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #re8 #resident evil 8 #lady dimitrescu fanfictions #house of dimitrescu #countess alcina dimitrescu

122 notes · View notes

sombreboy · 4 years

Text

sombreboy m.list⇢18+

18+ | WATTPAD | AO3 | I do not use any other platforms for my fiction.

What is the number next to every link? My xtremity scale provides the level of yandere the piece contains. 1 being very mild and 10 involving extreme themes. Please check warnings on each individual piece before reading!

All my content is explicit unless specifically stated otherwise.

Last update ⇢September 8, 2023

⇢ whine lips | vampire!pjm x reader (non gender, sfw)

⇢ viceversa | yan!jjkxfem!reader

⇢ Biorhythm m.list | jjk x pjm

⇢ Hellbound | demon!jjk x fem y/n

⇢ Yandere!Seokjin HC | Seokjin is jealous when he finds out you like someone, not knowing that this someone is him… Well, until you tell him [1]

⇢ Crazy beautiful | Seokjin gives you the attention that you truly deserve. [3]

⇢ Taste | ksj solo masturbation

Non yandere

⇢ Shared obsession | jjk x pjm x knj

⇢ uhgood | knj x male reader | You teased your boyfriend all day, and the very moment the two of you came home, he reminds you who’s in charge.

⇢ Descend | demon!knj x Y/N | Summoning the demon lord doesn’t come without a price.

Non yandere

⇢ Biorhythm m.list | jjk x pjm

⇢ Split | snake hybrid pjm x female reader

⇢ The alpha | You knew that deep down you desired someone strong and powerful, someone superior to you, to take and claim you as their own—their plaything.

⇢ Misguidance | You arrange a meeting with a hired dom for the night, whom (mis)guides you through the pleasures of pain.

⇢ Two is better than one | pjm x myg x male reader | Collab with @chimoona

⇢ whine lips | vampire!pjm x reader (non gender, sfw)

Yandere

⇢ Expensive doll | jjk x pjm

⇢ Shared obsession | jjk x pjm x knj

⇢ Mused obsession series | yandere!jjkx pjm [10] (xtremity is based on it’s entirety.)

⇢ Treasure | The dragon hybrid lures you into his forest to claim you as his plaything. [6]

⇢ Unsullied |(E) pjm has an extreme obsession with you, and one night he was taken away from you... But he came back, always will come back to make sure you know who you belong to. [8] ⇢ Scented |Your snake hybrid smells another hybrid on you, and punishment follows. [5]

⇢ Flesh | pjm & kth x fem/y/n . [10] ⇢ Friends | pjm & kth kidnaps you to use you as their personal plaything. [7] ⇢ Locked up, chained down | pjm locks you up and does whatever he pleases with you. [5]

Non yandere

⇢ Biorhythm m.list | jjk x pjm

⇢ Please, noona | Switch!jjk x female reader

⇢ Love Maze Series Index | Taehyung x Jungkook

⇢ Wedding night | Taehyung x Jungkook

⇢ Sounding | Taehyung x Jungkook

⇢ Distraction | Taehyung x Jungkook

⇢ Tease me | Taehyung x Jungkook

⇢ Dining out | Taehyung x Jungkook

⇢ Quality time | Taehyung x Jungkook

Yandere

⇢ viceversa | yan!jjkxfem!reader

⇢ Expensive doll | jjk x pjm

⇢ Shared obsession | jjk x pjm x knj

⇢ Mused obsession series | yandere!jjkx pjm [10] (xtremity is based on it’s entirety.)

⇢ Clipped wings | Prince jjk x female reader [4]

⇢ Dare | jjk x fem/y/n. [1] ⇢ First love | jjk x femdom/y/n [2]

Non yandere

⇢ Love Maze Series Index | Taehyung x Jungkook

⇢ Wedding night | Taehyung x Jungkook

⇢ Sounding | Taehyung x Jungkook

⇢ Distraction | Taehyung x Jungkook

⇢ Tease me | Taehyung x Jungkook

⇢ Dining out | Taehyung x Jungkook

⇢ Quality time | Taehyung x Jungkook

Yandere

⇢ Flesh | pjm & kth x fem/y/n . [10]

⇢ Friends | pjm & kth x fem/y/n .[7] ⇢ Bleeding love | kth x fem!y/n. [3] ⇢ Daffodil dreams |murder!suspect!yandere!taehyung x therapist!F [7]

⇢ Daffodil nightmares | murder!suspect!yandere!taehyung x therapist!F [9]

Yandere

⇢ Bad kitten |Your owner jhs finds out that you’ve been playing with the neighbor hybrid, and he decides to discipline you.[6]

⇢ Demon’s whore | demon!jhs x angel!female reader [6]

Non yandere

⇢ Who’s your king? | Your king is your lover, and he loves to see how much you worship him.

⇢ Two is better than one | pjm x myg x male reader | Collab with @chimoona

Yandere

⇢ Corrupted |Your boss craves you with every fibre of his being, so he claims you. [6] ⇢ I will wait |He confesses his feelings for you, but you don’t feel the same... Right now. [1]

⇢ 00:00 | Your vampire neighbor knocks on your door as the clock strikes zero, his desires for you too strong to ignore any longer. [6]

⇢ The heist p.1 | Seven men, one dream. To be rich, without having to work a day longer in their lives. Solution? A bank heist. They were just lucky to find a new plaything in the midst of it.

#yandere bts #bts smut #yandere seokjin #yandere namjoon #yandere jimin #yandere jungkook #yandere taehyung #yandere hoseok #yandere yoongi #yoongi smut #ot7 smut #hoseok smut #taehyung smut #jungkook smut #jimin smut #sombreboy masterlist #bts mxm #sombreboy

3K notes · View notes

holicanth · 3 years

Text

Hanging On Threads (2)

@shinoweek 2021 Prompt 3 - Sunset/Canon Divergence

Words: 3.7k

Genre: Angst. Drama. Shinohina. Tragedy

Warnings: -

Additional Tags: Shinohina, Kibahina, Naruhina, family issues, Konoha’s noble clans, nepotisme and collusion.

Author’s Note: I’m so sorry y’all. I’ve been extra busy :( Here’s chapter 2 (?) of my Shino week series. I hope you have a great day :)

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2

It has been 3 days since Shino disappeared from the Aburame compound.

It has also been 3 days since the Konoha elders re-welcomed the Aburames and reintegrated them into society.

Ever since, Shino has been staying at ROOT, hiding undercover while waiting for Danzo's orders.

And with that, Shino is handed the dreadful task of explaining every little detail to Torune.

"I just can't understand your logic, Shino." He says, clenching his fists on the table. "You should know better than to just run away from home like that!"

"What do you think you'll achieve with this?" Torune grits his teeth, "You cant escape this--there's no way Danzo will let you out anymore!"

Guilt that has previously bubbled inside him was now gone. Shino felt close to nothing as he stays cooped in ROOT. No fear. No anxiety. He was obviously feeling full of himself, believing to have won his side of the bargain. As such, none of Torune's words were ringing bells inside his head.

Shino tries to keep his facade well-put.

"How is Uncle Shibi taking the news?"

"I've sent some beetles to Father. I can tell he's doing well even without me. Nothing else will change in the household."

"Not until," Shino's words come to a startled halt. "Until I finish my promise to Danzo."

His brother bangs the table in a display of panic that Shino has never seen. " You don't know what he'll do to you. Shino, you don't know anything..."

His words cut off abruptly. In a split second, Shino senses a tremble in Torune. A slight quiver of his lips.

Torune used to live with them, and had expressed massive gratefulness towards his uncle. Shino didn't realize at that time (he was but merely eight), that more than anything, Torune's sacrifice was addressed more towards Shibi. The boy would do anything to protect his uncle—you can see it in the way he devotes himself to his work.

A kindred sort of regret rose in Shino. To think that he had so easily thrown away the ideal life that Torune had bestowed upon him—and voluntarily at that.

But both of them know that there is no safer alternative.

(It's an inevitable fate, they console themselves. It is a necessary sacrifice.)

"I had to do it for our clan." Shino repeats the fact to his brother. "We were to be killed soon enough. And it would have been Father first."

Shino's eyes flit nervously as he spoke.

"And who do you think would pull the trigger, Shino?"

Torune didn't ask why. Like he knew all of the details already.

Shino glanced around the room, thinking. He already knows the answer. Rather, he's trying to figure out how to word it in a manner that doesn't...offend Torune.

(Shino could list all the names of the ANBU members that have been in contact with particular individuals. Journalists, Governors, Clan heads, people of high posistions. Their agenda was blatant. Shino knows because their names have been whispered in contemplation throughout the Aburame compound.)

"The jonins," Shino says, in a hushed voice. "The jonins will work together with the ANBU. The Sarutobi clan will be extremely involved too."

There is a pattern Shino notices in Konoha's history. It's that the types of people who reign over the village are identical and identifiable amongst each other. A teacher to their student, A blood relative to their predecessor. Lesser clans would do anything to grab ahold of that social circle.

Replacing an unliked noble clan would be one of such tasks.

Torune listens keenly, in a hum that neither denies or confirms it.

"Not only that," He resumes, "There seems to be equal participation from other clans. Such as the Nara. You know they've been looking to steal our research on bugs."

"They're especially interested in yours, Torune."

He doesn't oblige. Torune was aware of this well before he came to ROOT, too. Fear and suspense were not things Torune had to be worried about. But today, he finds that he had to face it--the abject horror of seeing his little brother in a hostage situation. The pure fear of knowing how hopeless he is engulfs him. Was there nothing that Torune can do?

(A shinobi must constantly opress their emotions, follow a strict set of rules that they decide among themselves, and avoid extraneous conflict.

This was the first lesson Danzo had stamped inside Torune's memories.

To disconnect oneself from the act of murder—it was the essence of a shinobi.

Or so Torune thought.)

"I was to be sent as well, Shino." Torune looks down as he breaks the ice. "They want us gone because of our power. Of our potential. They'll take our knowledge and use it to their own benefit. All the research, medicine, poisons and bugs."

(The Aburames are notorious for being mysterious. All done in order to conceal oneself, to prevent oneself from having their secret techniques outed in public. Ensuring, that they stay formidable, underestimated,

and strong.)

"You heard Danzo say it. They think we're weird. Unsanitary. Off-putting. That our secrecy is a form of betrayal, even when we've been constantly obedient to Konoha."

"And will you die as well?" Shino asks cautiously, "After you've killed all of us, will they dispose of you too, Torune?"

A sorrow smile lit up Torune's face. There was, again, no answer. Shino knows—No, he had plenty of ideas already. Torune’s predisposition was already a valid enough reason for Konoha to justify his death. Killed or not, there are many ways to make a man break. Danzo would have his merry time trying out which one of those methods satisfy him best.

What Konoha was capable of bringing unto the Uchiha was just as likely to happen to the Aburames.

(This exchange ended on a heavy note. Nothing Shino says will add or subtract from the issue at hand. Just a hanging air of dread, looming over their clan's future. Both of them did what they had to preserve their clans. To protect those important to them.

But this sense of kinship—to protect those that they love. Is it not what Konoha preaches to their young, too?

Or was it the reason that Konoha wants to tear apart the Aburame family ties?)

A knock on the wooden door brings an end to the brothers' conversation. The Yamanaka boy comes in, head held high.

"Lord Danzo has requested for you, Shino Aburame. Come along, now."

Shino leaves Torune in the room. Torune knows best that he should not interfere lest he wants to live a day beneath the soil.

It can be said that ROOT was an illegal form of bodyguards, acting as Danzo's personal squadron. A blatant display of political corruption, despite Danzo’s "fancy" position as Konoha's elder. The facility was well maintained, and there was never a shortage of child soldiers sent there. The clan leaders know Danzo as a demanding figure.

The Yamanaka boy—Fuu Yamanaka stops to knock at a set of tall doors. Shino stops to ponder whether he was related directly to Ino Yamanaka.

An oddly lit room opens up by Shino, displaying machines, scrolls, and different books that are perfectly arranged inside the giant walls of bookshelves. Danzo stood in the center, on a throne chair that he does not deserve.

"You may leave now, Fuu." He spoke in a low tone.

Something in Shino buzzes as he watch the Yamanaka eye him begrudgingly while he closes the door. The buzzing didn't stop after he went out.

(His bugs were reacting to something. A feeling that Shino doesn't want to name)

"You. You're the son of Shibi Aburame, aren't you?" Danzo sneers, "So the Aburames have a dojutsu now, huh? What a nuisance. What, is your dojutsu like the Uchiha's? Prompted by deep emotional pain?"

(Shino feels the buzzing again. His bugs were on guard, but for what?)

"Does Shibi have this ability, too?"

"No." Shino spouts a half-lie.

"And how did you get your hands on this? Are you saying that it just appeared out of nowhere?"

Danzo was gauging for answers. Shino was never good at communication himself, but he was naturally gifted in speaking conspicuously

"It was always in the Aburame blood. Just forgotten through time. Nothing new."

"And you vermins have been hiding this to yourselves, haven't you? Yet you wonder why Konoha has no trust in you."

"The other clans have aces up their sleeves, too. It's why they call it a Hidden Jutsu."

Shino didn't mean to sound snark. But Danzo himself might not have the mental intelligence to understand sarcasm, so Shino thinks it's okay.

"So this dojutsu of yours—The Senrigan—tell me how this is more useful than the Byakugan."

Shino bit his tongue before answering. Once more, he'll have to cherry-pick his words exceptionally well.

"I transfer my sight to my bugs. Depending on how many bugs there are and how they're aligned, my sight can reach other countries."

"The Senrigan requires one to be perfectly still, but the bugs can collect all sounds, sights, and other details without having their chakra traced. Hiding my chakra under the bug's natural chakra will make them unnoticed by sensors"

Danzo squints his eye, thinking. "Quite the useful spying tool, huh."

"Still, we need to make sure you're telling the truth. Take off your glasses."

Shino was taken aback from the sudden request,

"Now."

He does as he's told. The sunglasses are safely kept in his pockets. Shino's eyes were dark under the sunlight, and an even deeper shade of obsidian indoors.

"Let's have you demonstrate your Senrigan, shall we? I've sent Fuu to loiter around Konoha's busy streets. Locate him using the senrigan, and tell me every word he's speaking."

And without further ado, Shino created some hand seals, took a deep breath, and a swarm of kikaichu flew out of his body, travelling through the doors and crevices of the ROOT headquarters before dispersing overground. The emerald hue of Shino's eyes looked stunning in the dark.

Even from a distance, Danzo can sense an intricate, huge web of chakra dispersing from the boy's body, Undulating, stretching outwards, and going back and forth between Shino's body and his bugs. Then, as if on command, the chakra fell silent and Shino lets out a long exhale. He's successfully established the connection.

As Shino stills his senses to callibrate himself to the beetles, he orders them to trace any signs of the familiar Yamanaka chakra signature. He steadily reduces his chakra input. When a preferable balance is reached, Shino waits in silence. Until a bug notifies him of any significant clues

(Go to the streets. He instructs them. Hover around in small swarms and don't terrify the people.

A short pause. Don't bump into anyone that I know, He commands again.)

Danzo watches as the Aburame in front of hin froze into a lotus pose. The stare in his eyes blank, but definitely buzzing with intel and chakra. There is much to be studied with this new forbidden jutsu.

Shino is notified of a sighting near Konoha's marketplace. He checks in with the bug, and once their visions link he can tell that the person had the same chakra signature.

"I've located him." Shino said. "He's using a mask and brown cloak, performing jutsus to the local children."

"And what is he saying?"

Shino tries to concentrate as hard as he can. The hand seals that Fuu was using was something he didn't recognize. Apparently memorizing while the Senrigan is activated proved to be more dizzying than he thought.

"Tori, Uma, Ne, Inu, Ne, Tori, Hitsuji, Tatsu, I, Ushi..." Shino recites slowly, making sure that he isn't wrong. "This is a variant of the Water-style technique. He's forming water spouts from his fingers."

That's absolutely correct, Fuu signals to Danzo, who had been telepathically communicating with him all this time.

"Well done, Shino. You've proven to us that you and your clan can be of use."

And with that Shino scrunches his eyes shut. A little bit disoriented from having to memorize while using the Senrigan. His beetles swiftly fly back to him, bringing him a small amount of chakra they absorbed from the villagers.

"I've done my part in reintegrating the Aburames. Give me a month and things will be back to normal. Are you ready to fulfill your side of the promise?" Danzo asked, as he stood up from his chair.

Shino gulps nervously. He didn't really plan out what to do next. But Shino was a master at lying, and with a countenance that no one can read, he was indecipherable.

"Why did you want us gone in the first place?" Shino asks, not realizing that he had voiced the thoughts out loud.

Danzo Shimura was a man who took the Second Hokage's manifesto to heart. Perhaps a bit too much. Shino had suspected, backed with the evidence and observation of his clansmen, that Danzo was pulling strings that led to the Uchiha massacre. It was easy to connect the dots, especially with Shibi and Shino's ability (they were tasked to clean it up. Shibi was fast in doing so, while Shino tended to the unconscious Sasuke.)

From the very formation of Konoha, the Aburame clan was in charge of the most tedious work. Often times having to deal with the brunt of it while Konoha lives scott-free. Border patrols, cleaning up after crimes, interrogation. The Aburames are efficient, but this efficiency ultimately lead to their public consternation.

"You Aburames are skilled, I must admit." Danzo's croaked voice echoed through the chamber. "So much so that any village would want to use you as weapons."

"And that's all there is to it, really. You bunch are too strong. Too skilled. There's too many unknown factors. The higher-ups have agreed to eliminate these threats. After all, Konoha prides itself in being a friendly nation. Your blood brings filth to our soil."

Shino knows that there is a lie slipped between those words. Danzo was not a friendly type of leader.

"The Four Noble Clans of Konoha are in need of a change. The Uchihas have proven to be evil. It is in Konoha's best interest to discard the bad, and salvage whatever is left. Haven't you noticed? The only reason we keep the Akimichi is because they're dumb enough to be controlled by the Nara and Yamanaka. And the Hyuuga's reputation are held at our mercy. You're smart enough to figure the rest." Danzo says, walking to approach Shino.

What?

Did he hear his words right? The Akimichi clan? All along, Shino had thought that the lucky title of a 'Noble Clan' are given to clans who had body modifications that cannot be replicated by other ninjas. To think that his fellow team had such a scheme hanging around their backs...Shino wants to believe that Team 10's friendship is genuine.

"Tomorrow," Danzo says, patting the chuunin's back, "You will be promoted as Jonin and will be registered as a member of the ANBU. Of course, that's a lie. Because tomorrow I will personally have you run... special errands for me."

Shino gulped. He didn't like the close proximity.

"Make sure you say your goodbyes today. You'll be listed as dead for security reasons."

And with that, Shino is let out of the facility. He finds himself pondering aimlessly on a nearby park bench. Autumn has turned the Konohagakure into a beautiful display of warm colors. The trees looked like they've been covered in a rich, velvet cloak and the air was sublime. Shino wonders how long it'll be till he can bask in this scenery again.

First, he'd visit his father. Then, he'd visit his other family members. After that he'll visit...no one. How could Shino bear to look at his friend's faces after resolving so adamantly to despise them? After convincing himself that they've forgotten him.

(And Shino still hopes. He hopes that somehow someone will notice eventually.)

But he supposes he'll finish his priorities first. Evade a civil war, restore his clan's honor, and the rest will be his secondary concerns. It is dire that he doesn't get emotional, especially in the current state Konoha is in.

He looks at the children, playing games under a nearby tree. They were too young for the academy, of course, but if they were old enough to attend, would they all turn out like him? Cold and efficient?

Shino thinks that he used to be a perfectly good student. A good ninja, but perhaps not so good as a friend. One can see plenty of differences between Shino and the rambunctious Naruto, but do they realize how much he envies his cheerful personality?

(And Shino envies him so much. He's taken the attention of the girl he favors. And now, he has taken everyone's attention away from Shino's disappearance.

Naruto had outshined Shino. As if Shino was a shadow that should not exist.)

He's had enough of the pointless thoughts. It was almost noon and Shino has to hurry home if he wants to say proper goodbyes.

But a shrill bark had frozen him to his seat.

"Akamaru, calm down!" A familiar voice shouted.

Shino jolted at the sound. It was coming from behind him. He senses two people walking by, and a dog beside them. Shino was already certain of who they were.

"Akamaru, what's wrong boy? You shouldn't be barking at strangers." The man—Kiba himself said, as he crouched to rub Akamaru's head.

"Maybe he sees someone, Kiba-kun? I don't think anyone's back home from missions..." Hinata replied, looking around the park.

Oh heavens. If there was anyone who Shino would avoid the most, it'd be these two—Hinata and Kiba. He doesn't want to face them. He doesn't even want to be near them. Alas, everytime Shino denies this thought his heart urges him more and more. To simply turn to them. To tell them everything.

(But who was it really who had decided to forget about him in the first place? No one had bothered to ask where he went after the Chuunin exams.)

Akamaru's barking turned into a soft whine. The canine was visibly confused.

Shino has yet to move from his spot at the bench.

"Come on now. No one is here. You've mistaken him for someone else, buddy." Kiba says, sounding a little harsh for someone who claims to be Akamaru's partner.

(Shino wanted to burst out laughing. Doubting a ninja dog's nose? Especially one who has worked with Shino for years? Kiba was a bad liar.

See, even Akamaru notices! Shino thinks to himself, proud to have concluded that the fault was theirs all along.)

Akamaru still whines when Kiba motions him away from Shino's bench.

"Why are you being so difficult today?!" Kiba grunts, frustrated. "Come on Akamaru, you don't want to upset Hinata on our date!"

Oh.

So it’s like that, huh.

"K-Kiba-kun! Please don't shout in public..." Hinata whimpers, fiddling her thumbs together.

And with a little nudge, Akamaru finally moves on with them. The couple enjoying the beauty of Konoha's Autumn, oblivious to everything behind it.

It took minutes. Hours, even for Shino to compose himself enough to process the ordeal.

And those hours were filled with empty pondering. With words that were on the tip of falling out of his mouth. With feelings that he had not been brave enough to admit before. With the eternal, everlasting regret of not speaking up.

But there was nothing he could do.

A shinobi must constantly suppress their emotions, follow a strict set of rules that they decide among themselves, and avoid extraneous conflict

This is for the best. he repeats to himself. Hinata would be better off without him, he thinks.

(But he could have made her happy too. He would've given everything for her.)

A stroll to wash off these thoughts. Yes, Shino thinks that all he needed was to cool his head, shrug it off, and return to his obligations tomorrow. The warm glow of sunset was eager to mask his unease.

The sunset was particularly shy that day, and had swiftly sank to allow the moon to greet him instead. It's already past six o,clock. He knows that he needs to greet his family, but Shino's distraught conscience told him to look at the sky. The moon was still as luminous as usual.

Shino had always known how beautiful the moon is. How beautiful its pearly shimmer is.

(How gentle her eyes were, radiating such a serene, pure love)

And like an opened dam, suddenly Shino feels his chest aching. Like a hole had opened inside him--one that he can't touch nor see. A hole that, no matter how hard Shino tries, would always engulf him in rain. In a downpour that feels like a thousand needles showering on him.

It feels like such a distant memory. Months ago they were still fine. Hinata was still his comrade. And now, she's floating further away from his grasp. Was there no more space for Shino in her heart?

(But Shino was a fool to believe—

A firefly can't love the moon.

Its language can't be heard,

Its wings can't reach the sky,

Its light can't compare to the sea of stars.

It can only do what a firefly does best.

Illuminate the night in its own glow.

A token of a love that falls on deaf ears.)

By the time Shino reaches the Aburame compound, his tears were already dry. Shibi waits for him near the estate gates, and without speaking a word, held his son in a deep embrace. A fitting greeting for a child who's always been forced to grow up before his time.

Shino was going to stay the night in the estate. Saying goodbyes and packing things up. Of course, no further information would be given—everyone was in a state of wary due to the constant supervision.

He had to console them the best he can. Explain the situation. Share his insights. Assure them that this is his job as the Aburame heir. And for that, he would do everything in his capacity to make sure his loved ones don't perish.

A night is never enough to tell stories. By tomorrow morning, Shibi would have said goodbye to two sons.

#shinowek2021 #Shino Aburame #aburame shino #naruto headcanons #naruto fanfiction #hinata hyuuga #kiba inuzuka #akamaru #Akamaru is the real mvp here #we love some good team angst #also...i rlly like the last sentence i wrote in this one 👁️👁️#also..i like the last sentence i wrote in this one 👁️👁️

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tenderlyrenjun · 3 years

Text

[1010 A.D.]

“Do you believe in soul mates?” you ask, lackadaisically, dreamily, while readjusting the ceramic pillow beneath a new fabric cover that your loved one retrieved from his latest bureaucratic outing. It is nice to have him back (and the new gifts, too, adorn your villa delightfully, even the ones hidden here in your bedroom, from wandering eyes). Outside your personal chambers, the scholars gather with you, compelled against their will, to indulge your curiosities, and particular student, who you seized from a recently constructed university, revived The Red String of Fate folklore under a new alias: soul mates. You want to hear Renjun’s thoughts on the term, if has has even heard it in passing.

“What are ‘soul mates’?”

Renjun rolls over in the bed, just as you lift the sheet to join him. Honestly, thank Heaven that your immortal self only requires one night of sleep a month. Leaving your estate unguarded for 8-12 hours of the day is dangerous. Although, months ago, the battlefields healed from the successive, rapid kingdoms popping up every couple of decades. Welcomed peace spreads alongside the rise of education, which is why you and Renjun returned to his home country. Physically seeing a Golden Era circulate the continent gave you two more confidence to re-establish your roots. With your entire coven massacred from rebellions caused by overly ambition vampires and their newborn parasites, the Huang lineage has to counterbalance for the lost political ties and social standing. Fortunately, Renjun’s good looks and charm (and compulsion ability) persuade even the most corrupt aristocrats - which is why he, rather than you, leaves the land every few weeks to reinforce those alliances.

Plus, he does it better: the dirty work.

You prefer to look at the pretty daggers he brings home and to drink red, warm elixirs poured into pretty bronze jia. Still, you admire his insignia ring on your finger during his extended business hours, counting down the seconds until you have him again. The staff are not as nearly interesting as your lover, especially considering how they gossip with you around the corner. Some call you too bold to manage the house; others say you simply lack manners, faulting Renjun for choosing a mate who was not born of noble status (a mere rumor that you take care of, anytime it emerges). Perhaps, that is why you take solace amongst the scholars, practicing calligraphy and expanding your vocabulary, instead of Confucian traditions. At least it gives you something to talk about with your equal, before you two begin recruiting members again - a lone vampire, in possession of a shielding ability, seems promising (and beneficial, in case of another war). So you slide into bed too, pulling his arm under your neck and extendings your similarly, to support his head while you curl into his side, answering his question:

“The sages call them destined.”

Renjun laughs, throwing his head back onto the comforter. He strokes your shoulder with his thumb, bringing the silk material off your skin, and turns to you with a smile that makes his presence natural and bright. Vampire nature is ectothermic and the beds are uncomfortable (how fleshlings survive them daily, you will never understand, not entirely able to recall your own mortality from centuries ago), but Renjun lives up to his name, enveloping you in a sense of reassurance, especially with how his voice melodizes. His opposite arm comes around, caging in you toward his chest so he can remove the strand of hair covering your eyes.

“I thought they were called ‘Soul Mates’,” Renjun counters. After giving you his signature tender smile, he nuzzles his face in your neck, pressing down a soft kiss. The way he lingers makes you roll your face to the window on the ceiling, North Star glowing a little weaker through the glass, now that he is home, holding you.

You sigh, contently, hearing it returned, ghosting over your collarbone. “They are, but Soul Mates are supposed to be people who are ideally matched together.” You glance at Renjun, hoping to scan his face for another reaction, but his eyes are closed, lips relaxed, cheek losing control to stay upright: he is falling asleep. And you almost let him, knowing how exhausted he probably is, from all the politics, the new studies, the art and literature. He is participating in so much that he will likely sleep for more than 12-hours this month. Unfortunately, you want him to answer this one question, and over the centuries, since his biggest promise, he always swears to give you whatever your heart desires. So, you prod his beautiful face, physically asking for an response.

“Mmm,” he whines, the hypnosis faltering enough for him to give you one, though his tired state answers your question with a question - you barely hear him, as he mumbles without opening his mouth too widely. He licks his lips, adding another brief love bite to your collar’s collection, before repeating himself louder, enunciating. “Are you asking if I believe that we are soul mates?” You think that he will indulge your new philosophies, using his statement as a thesis question, but he rolls his cheek further on your chest, tiger hugging your upper body. “Maybe,” he says. It should send worry through your body, were you a new couple, like Doyoung, the now-rather ruthless law enforcer of the Kim family. But you and Renjun have been together for half a millennia at this point, none of the passion ever slowing down. “I don’t believe in soul mates,” he confesses, slugging his words, “but we are naturally perfect together.”

The answer is good enough for you, so you brush back his bangs and kiss the crown of his head. He sighs again, squeezing you into the bed frame. This is how you allow yourself to fall asleep with him: no threats to your country, no threats to your safety, no threats to your relationship.

But ten hours later, you wake up to an empty bed, your lover making quiet noises in the next room over.

So, you go meet him, thinking that he has started brewing an early morning pot of tea, meticulously straining blood in a way that you do not understand. It is nice to just watch him cut lemons, slice ginger, arrange bits of flesh with almonds for garnish. And on the rare occasions, when birds are still writing songs on the rays of sunlight, you try to meet him in the tea room, almost falling asleep on his back all over again because the ambience is so soothing.

Except, you find Renjun hovering over jewellery in your shared walk-in closet, muttering decisions here and there about packing. An odd decision, truly, considering that you have staff rotating hourly. He only does this during surprises. And you sometimes enjoy his spontaneity. So you quietly relax against the door frame, arms crossed and an amused smile on your lips. In the mornings, each time, after he gets back, even without doing anything that might shame the Moon and Stars (before you disappoint Her counterpart, the Sun and Skies), you feel drunk in love, despite having an empty stomach.

“Where are you going?” you whisper, voice yawning the verbs.

Unexpectedly, Renjun jolts, visibly surprised and shifty, then he turns around. And your expression changes with him. Your eyes dart across his face, scanning through his forehead lines to eyes. You hesitate, always glancing back to his eyes, as a precaution in case he might say something reassuring, but he remains frozen, guarded in front of a backpack that you cannot miss.

To reiterate, you sometimes love his spontaneity.

“I’ll be gone for a few years,” he says, slowly returning to the bag, tossing in extra pieces. He contemplates adding a beautiful necklace on display - the one he had handmade for you during the Jade Era, but he shakes his head. No, he has to leave that for you. This break, his packing, does not equate to all the times when he leaves his insignia for you to wear. Renjun looks at his ring, having taken it back the moment he arrived, when you slipped it onto his hand, like a proposal of your own, even kissing his knuckles tenderly. He sighs; the necklace was a promise, and he will come back to you, after he does what he needs to do. And he really needs to do this. Renjun shakes his head, to correct himself, “A couple decades.”

You frown and your eye twitches. “What?” Realization hits you like a moving carriage, horses trampling over your regenerative rib cage. Renjun walks up to you, one hand balled into a fist and the other carrying his bag. You glance at his hands, unable to truly believe his face, and he passes off his insignia. “Tell me where you’re going.” Your voice cracks. “Please.” You can join him - now or in a few days, if he needs space. Although he was gone for a couple months, you can give him more, give him anything, as long as it doesn’t mean what you think it means. “Because we just talked about Soul Mates last night.”

Renjun slouches, opening his arms to give you a goodbye. “Love -”

“Don’t,” you hiss, sustaining red revived eyes at him - a particularly onyx color surges the veins, something Renjun has never seen in a vampire. “Don’t call me that while you are abandoning me.” His timeframe leaps out at you, the expectancy of a human, and you bite again, anxiety manifesting defensively into frustration. “For a mortal, abandoning our promises.” You point an accusatory finger at him, causing him to step back. “We stood before the Heavens and Skies and gave ourselves to each other by side of the Moon and Stars.” Every enunciated syllable pushes him further into your house, until he drops the bag, a shattering sound aiding the action. “You belong to me. I belong to you.”

You find the valor to look at him, eyes shining a vibrant red, and you think, just for a second, that he might give in, but when you try to deescalate the situation, thinking that this is just a lapse in his judgement, that you have a chance to make him stay, he speeds out of your arms. That is so unlike last night. And as you relive the memory, you realize that it might have been a goodbye. He had the opportunity to leave and not return, then chose to come back.

Renjun gingerly steps forward, tucking a hair behind your ear sympathetically, pityingly. “No one belongs to someone else.” It is why you pay your servants, generously. “People are free agents.” He glances at your eyes for the last time, picking up his backpack. “I’m sorry.”

And thirty years later, a decade extra than he intended, Renjun reiterates that plea, in a different context, after his medicinal elixir expired.

“I’m sorry,” he pleas, imploring you with tears pricking his ducts. He can barely see you seated, alone, on a throne, now that the last remaining valet has been dismissed. Renjun drops his bag, walking toward you with intention, pulling your quiescent face into a series of kisses. When you start moving your arms, he thinks that you concede and slows his lips to give you more dominance. You curl your fingers around his palm, a familiar gesture he has missed - mortals no longer give these types of sweet touches. Renjun comes back down to his heels, having edged to the tip toes in excitement, waiting for your embrace.

But you throw his hand off your cheek.

“Get out.”

“What?”

You know that he picked up your request easily, with his super hearing. Yet he asks you to repeat it anyways. Being amongst humans for so long mush have diminished his powers. You so desperately want to ask how he has been. How he has been excusing his eternal youth? Why has no one heard from him, not even Sicheng? Has he been drinking? You lost sleep over all the questions, for years. Vampires may only need half a day per month, debunking the coffin myth, but you have not fully rested in years. So, you repeat yourself, not bothering to glance at him as you walk away to the throne, back turned to him. “Get out of my manor.” You pick up a dagger, soaking it deeply in a jar full of your special poison. “I will not repeat myself again. If you are not gone by my next meeting -” An execution. “- you will be my next meeting.”

“Please,” Renjun begs. He has lost too much today.

The antechamber opens, your newest guard, Xiaojun, signalling your attention. So many vampires live in Renjun’s home, his former home. He knows that power naturally follows the ruthless, in this era, with covens and loners trying to gain ties after seeing displays of authority - either to have your killing machine skills used in their favors or to stay in your favor, avoid being slaughtered. And as you leave with Xiaojun, another two vampire guards drag a muzzled traitor to the throne room. Muffled prayers escalate his headache and he nearly exterminates the vermin himself, but you reenter the room and your prisoner shuts up, the end near.

You throw a dagger beside Renjun’s thigh. The poison you laced it with seeping into the floor, like a tea. While you have yet to singularly perfect the warm beverage, your venom has been shown incurable - a result you feel most proud in. And you burn the bodies before other covens get the chance to examine your work. No one but your shield needs to know that the poison is brewed from the blood of mortals with incurable illnesses: carcinogenesis, dystrophy, haemophilia, etc. Renjun has heard about your cruelty in the last few years, accumulating your dossier before returned home. Rumors circulate the taverns he worked in, spilling story after story about the monster on Oma Mountain between two warring kingdoms where people kept going missing. The immortal community says that you expect loyalty but want none of it, letting vampires reside in your villa lawlessly. Renjun starts to see the origin, especiallly after you rip out your prisoner’s vocal chords, burning it on steel wool and a high molar acid, before it can reattach and function again. He never truly saw you torture anyone, always ending their executions quickly and quietly. This is his fault. Now, you sadistically entertain their pleas for mercy, waiting for them to beg with everything you leave.

Renjun lets the choking garble for a few seconds more, then severs the head - all while staring at you. You glare at him, daring him to leave one more time.

“Do you want me to rip out your vocal chords too?”

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quicksilversquared · 4 years

Text

The Substitute Ladybug: Chapter 11

Final chapter!

After Lila takes things too far and Marinette ends up with a broken leg, Paris is going to have to deal with a different superhero arrangement for a bit. Having to share her superhero identity with her parents before Hawkmoth can be defeated isn’t something that Marinette had planned on doing, but- well, it might end up being a bit of a blessing in disguise.

links in the reblog

Getting to go out again- heading down the stairs without the help of a lift, bounding out the door, rushing unencumbered down the sidewalk to the spot where she was going to meet up with her friends- was amazing.

Tripping over a raised bit of sidewalk because she wasn't being careful and going flying with a squawk... well, that was a lot less fun.

But at least Adrien was right there to catch her before she could hit the ground.

"Easy there," Adrien said with a laugh, setting Marinette back up on her feet. "Man, you're off crutches and already speeding around, huh?"

Marinette laughed, even as she felt her cheeks heating up. "Yeah. I'm just excited, I guess."

"I don't blame you. And no crutches?"

"The doctor said that I'm all good to go, as long as I don't overdo it." Marinette grimaced down at the uneven bit of sidewalk. "Though maybe I should hold off on the running down the sidewalk for a bit. I'm sure someone would be concerned if I showed up with my knees all scraped up not even a day after getting the cast off."

If she were being honest, that someone might very well be her. After weeks of being in a cast, Marinette couldn't help but be a little paranoid that she would re-injure herself and her taste of freedom and normalcy would be snatched away again by further weeks of casts and crutches and bedrest.

Adrien made a face. "Yeah, that wouldn't be the best. I can't imagine your parents banning you from doing things like my father would, but they probably wouldn't be happy." He paused, then flashed her a smile, clearly deciding to move on. "It must nice to have everything back to normal, huh?"

"So nice," Marinette told him. "I can do stairs again! My parents and I are going to work on taking the lifts down and returning them this weekend, so then we can have the stairs all clear again. And they moved me back to my normal room last night and it's so nice to be back and have access to all of my stuff again. Especially my sewing supplies! My parents had offered to bring stuff down, but there were too many things I might need and I didn't want them to dig for things I requested and get everything messed up."

"Yeah, I can imagine how easy that would be," Adrien agreed. "I've seen your sewing set-up and all of the boxes you have. I don't know how you find anything, but I'm sure you have some sort of system."

Marinette nodded. "Yeah. It makes sense in my head." She probably should buy a proper storage system at some point- a modular storage system with a bunch of drawers would be easier to organize than a heap of shoeboxes of all sizes- but that would have to wait until summer.

Honestly, it would be best if it could be customizable and added onto as her collection of tools and materials expanded, which meant that she might end up making it on her own. Which definitely meant waiting until summer, but her shoeboxes could last until then. One or two might need a bit of assistance from some duct tape, but that was fine.

"I'm glad that I got to come out today," Adrien told her as they headed the short distance down the block to their meeting point. Alya and Nino were nowhere in sight yet, but that wasn't surprising. After all, both she and Adrien were running early to their lunch-and-ice-cream get-together. "Father and Nathalie initially wanted me to tag along on some luncheon with one of Father's business partners, even though whenever I have to do those, I need to stay completely silent unless directly addressed. Which happens maybe once per lunch, and it's always really obvious that they're just addressing me to be polite and acknowledge that I'm there instead of just outright ignoring me."

"I'm glad they let you come today," Marinette told him. She couldn't imagine what it would be like to have to go to a fancy lunch and be expected to exist as- well, as decoration, really. The closest thing she had ever done was go out with her parents to meet some of their friends or extended family, people that she didn't really know well and felt a bit awkward around. But they always tried to include her for at least part of the conversation and if she wanted to ask them any questions, she could. "Lunch at the cafe probably won't be as fancy as your father's luncheon, but it should be more fun!"

"Better company, too," Adrien told her, grinning. "And sometimes fancy food is overrated. Honestly, a panini and some soup sounds amazing. And- hey, there's Alya and Nino! It's about time, slowpokes!" he called. "Hurry up!"

"We're coming, calm down!" Nino called back, not picking up the pace at all. "It's not our fault that you two decided to come early!"

Adrien just shrugged. "I was looking forward to coming out, so sue me!"

"I'm just glad your pops finally saw sense and let you out." Nino finally drew close enough to exchange a fist bump with Adrien, grinning at him before turning his attention to Marinette. "So, what did the doctor say? Your cast is off- all good things?"

"All good things," Marinette confirmed. "My leg's healed well, now I just have to build the muscle back up. And that's going to be a bit of a process, but at least it won't test my patience as much as the cast and crutches did."

"Nice!"

It didn't take them long to reach the cafe and place their orders, then crowd around a small table to wait for their lunch to be delivered. Their knees jostled each other as they settled- it definitely wasn't a table meant for four people- but Marinette couldn't help but grin, definitely more excited than she really should be for what was a fairly simple outing. It was just that, well, everything was normal again.

"A hot lunch, a cold treat, and great company- what else could you ask for?" Adrien asked happily as their food got delivered to their table. "What a perfect day!"

They all nodded, already digging into their food. Marinette let out a happy hum as the blend of cheeses in her sandwich that she had ordered hit her tongue. It was the perfect temperature, hot enough to warm her up but not so scalding as to burn her tongue when she took a bite.

"Well, at the risk of sounding like an old dodder, how about a toast?" Alya asked after a minute of happy munching had passed. "To the rest of the school year only being exciting in good ways?"

"Oh, man, I'll drink to that," Nino said at once, accidentally sending his cup sloshing when he clinked it against Alya's a little too quickly. "No more nasty surprises! We've had enough of that this year already."

Marinette nodded, thinking back. There had been a lot of crappy things that had happened in the past year- the Heroes Day attack, Lila's return (and everything that went along with it), her loss of Master Fu's support and the reveal of all (or almost all)of the temporary superheroes, and then her broken leg. Then Nino and Alya- most of their classmates, really- had been hit pretty hard by the reveal of Lila's true colors and the realization that none of her 'connections' were actually real.

Maybe most of the year had been pretty good, but there had been a lot of pretty harsh lows.

"I think we could all do with a few nice surprises," Adrien agreed, lifting his cup as well. "Or at the very least, a bit of calm."

Marinette smiled, thinking of her superhero life. After all the madness of the past couple of months, calm with some nice surprises sounded absolutely perfect.

Luckily for the superheroes, several days passed before Hawkmoth struck again. Ladybug and Chat Noir spent the time doing nightly patrols, racing across the rooftops and practicing some of their battle skills as best they could without getting spotted, or at least without getting spotted close enough for anyone to notice that it was Ladybug and not Coccinelle out. Chat Noir was still being more careful with her than usual- they had to abandon tag because he wasn't trying, just because their tag usually involved tackling- but thankfully he hadn't let that carry over to their battle, instead falling back to their usual smooth dynamic.

Well. Their usual smooth dynamic, with some adjustments. Their nightly patrols had helped them suss out Ladybug's new limits and weak spots ahead of their battle, allowing them to figure out how they might account for that while Ladybug recovered. There was less flirting and more focus- Ladybug suspected that either Coccinelle had said something about timing of puns and flirting and when it would take away from their focus, or Chat Noir had just gotten used to having incredibly focused and fast-paced fights with Vipera, when they never had the time for joking around and any punning could get in the way of Vipera's instructions- and that meant that they were smacking down on the akuma almost as hard as they had been when it was Coccinelle and Chat Noir on the battlefield, with Vipera in their ears.

Ladybug grinned as Chat Noir taunted the akuma, pulling its attention over to him as she dodged in, jumping and flipping over the akuma's shoulder in a controlled tumble so she could snag the corrupted pin holding the akuma's cap on, yanking it off and landing only with a slight stumble. Ladybug crushed the pin as the akuma's (very limited) mind-controlled army stumbled to a halt, purifying the butterfly and releasing it into the air. Chat Noir came over to join her as she called for her Cure, his grin just as wide as her own.

"That went really well," Chat Noir said happily as Ladybug returned the restored pin to the akuma victim. "Only ten minutes, and that was with a mind-control akuma too! And not all of those ten minutes were spent fighting, even."

Ladybug grinned, turning to face him. "Yeah, three minutes of us being out and transformed was just watching the cameras like I did as Vipera to figure out the powers and where the akuma was. Maybe we just got lucky this fight and it won't help as much all the time, but..."

"I think it's a good idea to do that all the time," Chat Noir said, extending his baton enough that he could lean forward on it, beaming over at her. "It's scoping out the fight in advance and gathering intel without having cars and spider webs and random powers getting flung at us. Maybe it won't help as much every time, but when it does..."

Ladybug nodded. If they could shave down battle times at all, it would be worth it. Especially since- well, there were still parts of the battle that could have gone more smoothly, even with their preparation. They needed every advantage they could get.

"Ladybug! Ladybug, a quick word!"

"Aaand here come the reporters," Chat Noir said with a small sigh. He flashed a smile at Ladybug. "Are you good to give a statement now, or should we bounce?"

"I'm good," Ladybug told him. "It'll just be a quick comment anyway."

Chat Noir nodded, still not looking completely convinced. "Okay, if you're sure-"

"Ladybug! Are you back for good? What was the nature of your injury? Will we see Coccinelle again, or will she come out with a different Miraculous? Can you give a statement to Paris about why you decided to leave on vacation in the middle-"

"If anyone questions why I took well-deserved time off, I won't be answering any questions and Coccinelle will come after you," Ladybug told them tartly, cutting across the cacophony of overlapping voices, and the reporters promptly shut up and sent a dark look at the man who had asked about Ladybug's vacation. "As for the rest- yes, I'm back, though Coccinelle and I have not ruled out her occasionally coming out in my place as needed. And I'd like to thank Paris for accepting her with open arms, even without a heads-up that there was going to be a temporary switch." She flashed the cameras a grin and a peace sign. "Peace out, Paris!'

And with that, she flung out her yo-yo and was off like a shot. There were a few cries of protest from behind her since she hadn't answered all of the questions, really, just one. She hadn't said anything about her injury, or if Coccinelle might come out with a different Miraculous, or-

"Wow, you might need to call Coccinelle out again to go after the reporters," Chat Noir commented, landing on the roof behind her. "I can understand being curious about if Coccinelle will come out again, but I thought she made it clear that people need to respect your privacy and not push for details."

"Well, if they can't manage to cut it out, my mom is teaching me her patented Icy Mom Glare." Ladybug giggled. "Though I might rename it to the Patented Superhero Glare, since Mom Glare just comes with implications."

"Good idea." Chat Noir fell quiet for a moment, glancing her way a few times like he wanted to say something. Ladybug raised a curious eyebrow at him, and he glanced away again before letting out a sigh. "So. Uh. There was something else I wanted to talk to you about, if we have time."

"I'm sitting at just under four minutes," Ladybug told him. "Go ahead."

"Right. So. Uh." Chat Noir rand a hand through his hair, messing it up even more. "So I swear that I'm not just bringing it up now because we have less than five minutes left on our timers and you can't get that mad at me in that amount of time, really. But I've been thinking back to my last few battles and patrols with Coccinelle- well, the patrols, really, not so much the battles, there wasn't much time for talking then-"

He was definitely babbling now, but Ladybug just settled back against a chimney and waited.

"-anyway, I didn't really notice anything off at the time, but I think that maybe, possibly, potentially, your, uh. Mom might suspect who I am."

There was a pause. Ladybug blinked.

"I mean, I don't know for sure, and I still don't understand how it could be at all likely, but some of the things she said, sometimes- I mean, it's possible that I just told her stuff and then forgot that I did and I'm just jumping to conclusions. But. uh. I thought it might be important to mention." Chat Noir let out a sigh. "I know you said during the picnic that it was okay for me to talk to your mom and it wouldn't be the end of the world if she figured me out, but I still wasn't expecting it to actually happen. And I worry about what that means for us keeping our identities secret from each other."

Well. She hadn't been planning on passing on Tikki's comment quite yet, since they were only one fight in and she had wanted to have maybe a couple weeks of normal battles again before doing any sort of identity reveal reassessment, just to let the dust and fuss around her return settle a bit first. But maybe she was just overthinking things and it would be better to just keep Chat Noir clued in. Then they could both be in on the same loop and maybe discuss their theories about Tikki's words.

"Actually, about that," Ladybug started slowly, and Chat Noir's ears twitched towards her. "Tikki and I were talking a few weeks ago about identity stuff, and she said that we were getting closer to being able to do a reveal. Like, I thought we would have to wait until Hawkmoth gets defeated, but apparently it's a possibility that we won't have to wait for that. I don't know what, exactly, she's looking for," she added quickly, because really all Tikki had said was something about getting closer and maturation and growth and in all honesty, she didn't fully understand what, exactly, Tikki was referring to, which was probably why her kwami had told her not to try to force the growth. If she tried to explain it to Chat Noir... well, she could easily muddle everything up and might accidentally end up insulting him somehow. "Or how long it would take for us to get there. But the whole leg thing somehow got us closer."

Somehow wasn't exactly the right word for it- Ladybug had noticed some subtle shifts in their relationship compared to before her leg got broken- but she didn't want to draw attention to those shifts. Somehow she suspected that, like Adrien's change in attitude towards Chloe (which was continuing, even as Chloe dug her heels in stubbornly), pointing it out directly might only serve to make him uncomfortable.

Even if she had wanted to try, Ladybug wasn't even sure that she would be able to find the words to describe the differences. Some, like the focus during the battle and the flirting retreating back to fully playful, were easy enough to put her finger on. Others...

Well, others were not, shifts too subtle to really pick out what exactly had changed. It was all good changes, though.

Chat Noir lit up, grinning. "That's cool! So it's really not as big of a deal as I was worried it might be."

"Tikki still wants us to wait if possible, but yeah, the world's not going to end or anything if we slip up and figure each other out." Ladybug grinned as well, unable to help getting caught up in Chat Noir's excitement. "I kind of wish she had said more, but..."

"Well, we'll find out soon enough, I hope," Chat Noir told her. He wriggled in place, clearly hyped up about the news, and then he half-pounced on her, scooping Ladybug up in an excited hug. "This week has been amazing. You're back, we got to hang out with bonus patrols, our first post-return battle was a super success, and we might get to share our identities and- and hang out outside of the masks soon! Or at least before we defeat Hawkmoth," he corrected himself before Ladybug could say anything. He set her down, still grinning. "That's amazing."

"It has been a pretty good week," Ladybug agreed, beaming. Maybe it was early in her post-recovery return, but so far, so good. She leaned forward, hugging her partner tightly. "Here's to hoping that it keeps going that way."

"Yeah." Chat Noir glanced down at her, his expression entirely fond. "I hope so, too."

Another week passed and at school, Marinette slipped back into her normal routine easily enough. She could take the stairs on her own now, no more piggyback rides or taking the elevator necessary. Adrien usually stuck close by when they were on the stairs, close enough to steady her in case she ever tripped- which she hadn't, not yet- but that was the only major change from before.

And it was hardly a bad change, either. Maybe Marinette had come to the conclusion that she needed to hold off on dating until Hawkmoth was taken care of, but getting a bit of extra attention from Adrien was never a bad thing. She was getting used to it now, and not blushing as much or messing up her words when he slung his arm around her shoulder or wound his arm through hers as they walked to class together.

(She wasn't going to read too far into his sudden closeness. Maybe Alya was right and he had developed a crush on her, but maybe he was just making sure that she wouldn't get knocked around and risk breaking her leg again, so soon after getting the cast off. Which- well, it wasn't going to happen, not with the amount of healing that she had done with Tikki's help, but she wasn't going to mention her magically sped-up healing to her friends. It would just open the door to too much questioning.)

The week had two more akuma battles- Tanker joined them for one, not because they were struggling but just because it was the bakery's day off- and several patrols. The patrols weren't strictly necessary- they hadn't regularly done them before, since they had been so busy and overwhelmed- but with the newly-shortened battles, they had more free time to spend together. It also gave the two superheroes time to hang out and tease and joke around when there wasn't the pressure of a battle hanging over them, so they could buckle down and be super-focused during battles without sacrificing their friendship and their bantering dynamic. It was something that Marinette really wanted to be able to keep doing long-term, as long as her schedule allowed for it.

(Tikki really, really liked that arrangement, though she wouldn't tell Marinette exactly why. Marinette suspected that it had something to do with the whole 'growing' thing that Tikki had talked about before. Marinette wasn't going to overthink it, though. Patrols were time for her to have fun with her partner and use the Miraculous to relax- and to get more exercise so that she could start building up her strength and endurance again, that was an extra bonus- and she wasn't going to ruin that time by wondering if they were growing as much as her kwami had hoped.)

Marinette wasn't willing to just let things continue as they were, though. It would be easy enough to sit back and fall into a new routine, one with patrols with Chat Noir and battles that occasionally included her parents. It was working really well, after all. But she had learned a lot while she was sidelined, about strategy and long-term planning, and she wanted to keep working on that. Sure, akuma battles were better now, but it would be absolutely fantastic if they didn't have akuma attacks anymore. If Hawkmoth and Mayura were defeated, she wouldn't have to worry about attacks disrupting her day or waking her up at night. She and Chat Noir could hang out safely during the day, instead of having to stay up late, and could help out around the city when it was more convenient for them. Everyone would be safer, and the city wouldn't have to worry about Hawkmoth preying on their emotions.

It was a nice thought, and Marinette wanted to get there sooner rather than later. And that meant being proactive with her approach and planning what she could do to change things up and throw Hawkmoth off.

She already had some plans in place of things that she could switch up at random, of course. Ladybug could swap out for Coccinelle and Vipera. Her dad could come out as Tanker- and Hawkmoth was definitely scared of Tanker after the beatdown that he had gotten- and her mom could bring out bonus Miraculous or deliver them to backup holders directly, instead of them having to suspend the battle to sneak Miraculous out.

And if that wasn't enough to turn the tides in their favor- well. They could switch things up even more. One of the things that Marinette's time on the sidelines had taught her was that one of the hallmarks of a good leader was recognizing when she might do more good in another position. Maybe she loved being on the battlefield and being Ladybug, but if she was more effective as Vipera and her mom could fill Ladybug's shoes without compromising an overly large amount on fighting ability...

It was just a thought, something for her to consider and keep in mind as more of their battles unfolded. Marinette would have to talk to the kwamis to get their opinions, and of course it was possible that an adult Snake would be able to unlock more- not powers, necessarily, but perhaps flexibility. If the timer-stop could be continuously adjusted instead of having just one fixed reset point with an adult holder, that would be a valuable thing to know. It would make what she had done as Vipera not nearly as difficult to do, so- in theory, at least- then one of her parents could take over as the Snake instead.

It would still be smart not to reset to the very closest point, just for flexibility reasons, but it wouldn't require remembering dozens of resets' worth of instructions.

That was a good starting point, Marinette decided as she settled back into her bed. Above her, she could see the shadows on her balcony shifting in the breeze, pale moonlight beaming down from above. She had a framework in place, things to ask about and try out and see what worked best. There would be a lot of moving parts around and trying new things and constantly shaking things up while keeping track of all of it, but that didn't worry Marinette.

After all, with Chat Noir and her parents by her side, anything was possible.

#Miraculous Ladybug #The Substitute Ladybug #My writing #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste

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yourdesertsunflower · 4 years

Text

Boruto did a disservice to Temari

Sorry, in anticipation I warn you, this will be long.

Okay, okay. I love Temari. She is my favorite kunoichi, I love each and everyone of her appearances in Naruto and Naruto Shippuden, I watched all filler that she was on, and I even have her on my avatar. So, yes, this by no means is to hate on the character but to actually show how Boruto writers completely misunderstood her.

I’ll always love her character, but I got to admit I am not okay at all with somethings they are making her do in the Boruto’s anime. And no, it’s not because she moved to Konoha, or decided to take mainly the role a housewife (a bloody difficult job if you ask me) because I frankly couldn’t care less of any of that if she is happy. I really think that Shikamaru and Shikadai make her genuinely happy and that’s all I want for her. She had went from so much shit that I only want to see her feeling value and loved, that’s the least she deserves and her husband and son give her that.

The problem is that, in most of her characterization in Boruto, I hardly see that Temari we got to know and love in the anime and manga of Naruto. Now when we get to see her in her recurring role in Boruto she is capitalized by her writers as a joke of the “crazy wife and mother that would rather hit you with your fan than having a civilized talk and will be angry twenty-four seven with no apparent reason.”

And that, my friends, is not Temari. At least not the Temari I grew to love in Naruto.

Through this post I’ll try to explain why I think that that portrayal of the abusive housewife and mother that they give her in most of Nara Family moments in the Boruto manga, and specially the anime, is (in point of view) completely mislead. It had become clear to me, through my time watching the show, that Boruto writers are clearly not even trying to understand Temari’s character and how they are using her as a recurring joke rather than considering her as a real three-dimensional character. And I despise them for that same reason.

So, without more vacillation, I’ll get started.

1. Who is Temari?

Before venturing into everything that is wrong about the characterization of Temari in Boruto and trying to pin point when this actually started to happen, I would like to see deeper into Temari’s character. I think it’s only wby understanding her character previously from Boruto that we will actually understand how inconsistent is her writing in the show.

I decided to base my analysis of Temari’s character in the Naruto series in two key aspects: an overarching analysis of Temari’s character profile using the Myres Briggs Personality Types and the Enneagram and in pin-pointing will pin point some specific moments of characterization in the manga of Naruto that show her character.

Before starting with the analysis, I want to be clear about why I use the Myers Briggs Personality Types and the Enneagram in my analysis of Temari. I really don’t usually tend to care for the function of neither of those test in real life (if you do I am perfectly fine with it, it’s just something I don’t do myself) but I think they can be great tools for any author to understand better the behavior, desires and motivations behind their characters. I personally do this in my work and I highly recommend it for any other writer out there.

Remember, this is my own personal analysis and I’ll tell you when my opinion differs from the majority, I’ll justify everything said in my analysis, and I’ll leave links to every info that I give you.

Well, speaking specifically about Temari. Who is she? What she wants? Why she wants it? What she’ll do to achieve it? What she really needs? Which is her fear?

This between others are questions that any author or actor has to ask themselves when they are writing their characters. It’s a question of giving the character depth, making it seem “like a living breathing human-being.”

Kishimoto state it in the most bluntly, yet efficient ways, when he presented Team Seven by making Kakashi ask them about their likes, dislikes and dreams. Naruto, Sakura and Sasuke’s response reflect all this questions even though they are not saying it directly. I won’t analyse this respective scene, because if not this will be really long, but I promise to do it sometime in the future.

Well using the Myers Briggs Personality and Enneagram Test we can get to full-picture of these questions. Myers Briggs Personality test will tell us who the character is in it’s core; how they’ll behave, how they’ll face a situation and their outllook of life. The Enneagram on the other side show us their wants and needs, what they long to archieve and their fears.

In the case of Temari I would classify her as an ENTJ but,her most common classification is ESTJ and a 8w9 as her Enneagram. If you want me to explain why I think she is an ENTJ an not a ESTJ (thoiugh I’ll construct my case over ESTJ) just ask for it cause I’ll be more than happy to do it. But for now, and in order not to make it way longer than it will already be I’ll focus on Te (Extraverted Thinking) and Fi (Introverted Feelings) both functions that both types share as their primary and inferior function respectively and will be key for my analysis.

Source Temari’s Personal Database

(If you want to understand the differences between ESTJs and ENTJs here is a good tumblr source that explains everything quite complete yet quite simply explained)

Let’s go first with the MBTI (Myers Briggs Type Indicator)

What means to have Te as a primary function and Fi as in inferior function?

Te as a Primary Function (Extroverted Thinking): Think of your primary function as your strongest suit, things you are good at. Dominant Extroverted Thinkers tend to be logical, objective and fair. They are very organized and try to arrange the real world to suit their needs.

Strives to bring order, control, and rationality to the systems and operations of the outside world.Evidence: Temari is able to rationalize situations and access their pros and cons quite easily. This is showing in the flashback where she doubts of the productivity of the Konoha Crush since she maintained that there alliance with Konoha was much more valuable any they could gain from the attack.

Insists on objective standards and measurable goals. Evidence: She is prone to be involved in and thinks in things as if they were projects like the preparations of the Chunin Exam, the Allied Shinobi Forces, etc. (see the image of the Fourth Databook)

Tendency to quickly express their judgments and opinion, to literally think (i.e., make judgments, conclusions, and decisions) aloud. Evidence: In her match against Shikamaru she was pretty quick in express her analysis of his movements aloud.

Speak before they listen which can either make them strong and courageous leaders or seem abrasive, dogmatic, or controlling. Evidence: Temari asserted a leadership position within her village and also within the Allied Shinobi forces (despite not being strictly one) showing us her natural inclination to take charge.

Source of the Image

Prone to overstating things. Evidence: In her fight against Shikamaru thinking she knew all the extent of his technique.

They may say things that, in retrospect, they wish they could rescind, or at least soften (specially true for hypersensitive Fi), which can lead them to respond defensively or re-actively. Evidence: Sasuke Retrieval Arc, Temari’s expression as Shikaku reprimanded his son. Konoha Hiden, Temari feels ashamed about what happened the

Fi as a Inferior Funtion (Introverted Feeling): Inferior Function is that thing that we often push aside the most and find most difficult to fully grasp. However, that doesn’t mean it doesn’t play a key role in our behavior. People with Fi are driven by an internal moral compass, helping them adjust their actions in order that what they are doing helps or affects people in a meaningful way. This gives them a sense of loyalty to those around them, considering the wants and needs of those close to them.

Loyalty and dutiful nature due to a well constructed inner moral compass. Evidence: Fierce sense of loyalty to her village and her moral and ethical duty towards it.

Not prone to display emotions, may see them as a weakness.Evidence: The famous, “Had you received emotional training?” after the failed mission against Sasuke.

If taken to their worst they can have an all-or-nothing nature, this is neutralized when more “healthy” and less hypersensitive their Fi is. Evidence: Her whole fight against Tenten. She should to be someone strong, determined, disciplined with a strong chracter that will never let anyone mock her.

Image Source

Strong sense of inner control reached by vigorously working to control the outside world. The only way they can feel in control of themselves is by taking control of their surroundings. Evidence: How she managed to control the situation when Shikamaru was trying to ask her out on a date, her reasoning during their Chuinin Exams fight.

Fi might also inspire them to take up causes that have personally affected them, ingrained on a deep fear of being a bad person or having corrupted moral. Evidence: Given her participation in the Konoha Crush Temari is one of the main actors to amend the relationship between Konoha and Suna in the time skip. Also she wants to archive a peace she never had due to her childhood as a Gaara’s sister and Rasa’s daughter, shown in her important participation in the Shinobi Alliance. Her deep care for both of her brothers given their mother’s death and she taking a position of caretaker within the family on an unconscious level.

Unconscious yet particular empathy and concern for children, often finding great fulfillment in having and caring for children. Evidence: In Part I, after the Sasuke Retrieval Arc, The Sand Siblings stay in Konoha to help at the Academy. Temari reveals to Shikamaru that she had done it because she was fond of it. Children seem to really respect and admire her.

Source MBTI

Enneagram: 8w9 (The Diplomat)

Basic Fear

Eights with a nine wing fear being hurt by others. They avoid situations in which they have less control, generally preferring to be in positions of leadership.

Basic Desire

Their basic desire is to guard themselves against threats and control their own destiny. They may express this by asserting independence at a young age.

Hence Diplomats (8w9) defend themselves by building emotional walls and denying vulnerability. They seek to appear strong, subconsciously believing that being too emotional will make them seem weak (Haven’t you received emotional training?). They,

Dislike taking orders from other people

Though they are certainly not the most chill of all types the most calm and laid-back of the eights.

Struggle to openly share emotions

Fear being controlled by others

Seek autonomy and independence.

At their best diplomats use their wit and ability to see different perspectives to face different projects. Their naturally energetic and confident persona make of them people that can lead others effectively, through support and guidance. They have a talent to give others what they need, and are empowering and advocating for others. They feel a need to protect the ones they love and enjoy their-selves the most when they are surrounded by these people.

Image Source

At their worst diplomats, given their struggle to control their temper and their tendencies to be stubborn or rigid can enter excessively in conflict or disagreement or directly reject and dismiss others. They struggle to face emotionally vulnerable situations due to their sense of lack of inner control with can make them seems overly confident or emotionally detached. They also can develop a dislike for rules from authority figures.

Image Source

The best way to communicate with a 8w9 is to be direct and straightforward, while encouraging them to share their ideas. If conflict arises it’s better to address conflict directly and logically; discuss and work together toward the best solution.

Source of Enneagram 8w9

Conclusion

For that we have seen through this analysis some key things about Temari.

She is quite a direct and logical and rational individual who values to get things done in the outside world.

She has leadership skills, given their courageous and confident attitude, but can also come up a abrasive or controlling.

Tend to overstate things and may say or do things that they, later on, wish they could soften.

Is incredibly loyal to her set of values and those around her and tends to involve personally with the things she works on.

She tends to want to have a control of the outside world and her worst fear is to loose it, cause is in the only way she can feel in control of herself.

She wants independence cause that is the way she can feel in control of herself. Therefore she tends to leave emotions on one side, they are less controllable cause they are in her inner world, and focus her energies on the outside (rational) world.

2. Shikamaru and Konoha Hiden: The Beginning of Everything.

I can begin to trace the disservice towards Temari in this point in time, in the anime’s adaptation of her character from the light novels. From here we can begin to see how they are starting to tweak Temari’s character (in a way that’s unfair and clearly not coherent) to fit her into the mold of the angry or crazy girlfriend/wife though with moderation.

Why? Why, do you have to adapt an moment like this...

Clutching his back, Shikamaru turned his eyes toward the voice.

A woman with a sharp gaze and golden hair tied into two bundles stood there, holding a giant fan in both hands. And that fan had no doubt created the wind that had knocked Shikamaru flying.

Temari...

"So you're just gonna skip out?! You're gonna do whatever he tells you to? That's not like you at all! I expect a lot more from you! Get it together, you idiot! I mean, I know you actually think this guy's boring! His stupid lecture's total garbage! Am I right? Say something! Shikamaru!"

His ears, now accustomed to Gengo's weighty tone, took in the screeching, loud voice, and his eyes flickered with pain. "Ah!"

The haze blanketing his head vanished cleanly and completely. The thing squeezing his heart was gone; it was as if a hole had popped open in his chest.

But it felt amazingly good. He inhaled deeply, down to the bottom of his stomach, and slowly let it out. A laugh naturally followed.

A single blow to pull him out of the genjutsu...

"So you show up out of nowhere to badmouth me?" He put a hand on the back of his head, eyes fixed on Temari as he stood up.

"I came to save you. Quit grumbling and thank me." She rammed the end of the folding fan into the ground, rested her right elbow on the pivot, and puffed her chest out. Behind her stood a line of ninja. They all had the mark of Sunagakure carved into their forehead protectors.

"I can't exactly go letting you die now, can I?" She grinned.

Her smile, glittering like the fire of the desert sun, cleared Shikamaru's heart. Her earlier words came back to life in his head.

Source: Naruto: Shikamaru Hiden - A Cloud Drifting in Silent Darknes (2015) by Masashi Kishimoto, Takashi Yano

as this?

I know this may be completely unpopular but, hey I am here to say what I think. You can always count that’ll be honest. And I don’t like this.

This in my opinion this is not female empowerment, this is not funny and this is not Temari reacting naturally to the situation she is involved in. Is just simply her hitting Shikamaru with no reason at all.

In the novel, as we have seen, Temari lectured him (oh, boy did she lectured him just rightly). She basically made her come into his senses using logic and reason, using words, the same through which Gengo almost defeat him. And that is Temari, she may not be the best at expressing her emotions but when conflict arises she address conflict directly and logically. She explains, in a way that yes may seem imposing for others, but that always uses Te (extroverted thinking) as her main weapon.

Temari would never make someone come to his senses by a love declaration but she wouldn’t slap him on his face either.

Temari does this because, although Shikamaru hurt her, Shikamaru is someone dear to her and she knows that he needs of a little bit of tough love in order to function. This is Temari’s way of being empowering and advocating for others.

And you may be asking. But hey, Temari had already slapped Shikamaru before and you didn’t say nothing about that moment? Yes she did, but that moment was intrinsically different to this second one.

This slap...

It’s justified in Temari’s character. Maybe it’s not the best thing she could do, nor what I pictured her to do, but is not that detached with the situation.

Let’s see another extract of the Light Novel to understand better the context:

"Oil" A voice called to Shikamaru from behind.

He clicked his tongue imperceptibly. The voice belonged to the person he least wanted to speak with at that moment. Ignoring it, he kept moving forward.

"Shikamaru, hold up!" The voice beat at his back, threatening to send him flying.

"What?" He turned just his head to look at the woman over his shoulder.

Temari from Sunagakure. Her hair was shorter now than it had been two years ago, and she had pulled it back into two bundles on either side of her head. Her eyes were gentler now than they had been, set in a fairly adult looking face. But given that she was older than Shikamaru, her face didn't just look grown-up; she was actually already a very fine adult.

"What's going on with you?" She stared at Shikamaru with eyes that drooped somewhat more than they used to.

"What do you mean?"

"You've been weird lately." Temari's slender hand reached out to Shikamaru's shoulder and pulled him around to face her.

What a drag... The words made it all the way to his throat before he managed to desperately swallow them back down.

"I mean your attitude at the meeting there. You just sit there with your mouth shut. Everyone gets nervous; the whole place tenses up, you know."

"It does?"

"You didn't notice it?" Temari's eyes grew wide. "What happened?"

"Nothing."

"It's something you can't talk to me about?" Temari's hard gaze hurt.

In the two years since the Great War ended, Temari had been a good and understanding partner in their work on the alliance. She shared his desire to keep the shinobi from fracturing into factions once more after they had finally come together in the face of a powerful enemy. She had rallied the Allied Forces with him. The strong bond between Naruto, seen as a candidate for the next Hokage of Konoha, and Gaara, the Kazekage of Sunagakure, also played a part; the relationship between the two villages was extremely good, even among the five great nations. With these kinds of outside factors also at work, Shikamaru and Temari each recognized the other as their greatest ally in the alliance.

"Something's happening in Konoha." She had fairly good insight.

However, her shot was a little off. Nothing was happening in Konoha, although it was true that they were trying to take care of the situation with only the shinobi of Konoha. So Temari was half-right, half-wrong.

The basic policy of the alliance was that matters relating to the life or death of shinobi themselves exceeded the framework of the villages and should be shared with the entire group. What Shikamaru and Kakashi were attempting to do was in very clear violation of this policy. Even so, he couldn't say anything. Getting the alliance involved now and stirring up trouble with the Land of Silence was not a good plan.

I'll handle it... His resolve hardened.

"Is there anything I can do?"

"There's not."

Temari dropped her eyes at Shikamaru's curt reply. "Okay," she muttered, lifelessly. In the next instant, the brief look of sadness on her face changed to anger.

It was all he could do to take a breath. He had no room to dodge; before he knew it, Shikamaru was flying. He tumbled down the hall a few times before ending up on his backside in a seated position. The right side of his face swelled up, bright red. Stroking his hot cheek, Shikamaru looked up at an indignant Temari glaring down at him.

"I never actually thought I could've misjudged you so badly!" Her angry yell turned into a powerful wind, pushing up against his face.

"I-I'm sorry..." The words were unconscious. He unthinkingly took on the persona of his father stumbling home in the morning, only to get yelled at by his mother in the entryway.

Taking long strides, Temari passed by Shikamaru and disappeared, her eyes slightly damp.

Source: Naruto: Shikamaru Hiden - A Cloud Drifting in Silent Darknes (2015) by Masashi Kishimoto, Takashi Yano

We see a Temari that is continuously trying to reach someone who she had become closed to and with whom she had worked side by side since the war ended two years ago. Someone who she thought trusted her. The slap is given her sadness with ended up being represented in anger (inferior Fi). She had a real reason to be sad: Temari isn’t someone who lightly trust or cares about someone and Shikamaru was just closing the door to her. Saying that he didn’t need her. And there’s nothing that Temari wants more than feeling need, something that is evidence in her Tsukuyomi Dream, which may not be canon, but yet captured Temari’s character.

Not only that but, as we said, Temari’s basic fear was to be hurt by others. That’s why she usually has that overly confident and seemingly emotionally detached attitude. And once she left her guard down she was hurt by non other than a person she hold dear, which we have seen ain’t an easy point to reach with someone with Temari’s personality. Given her “all or nothing” outlook this might be a really bad wound for her, like if he was back-stabbing her.

That’s why "I never actually thought I could've misjudged you so badly!" and Temari’s cry really is so important. It shows she’s truly hurt. It justifies her punch, no. But it explains it. (I won’t lie, I also wanted give Shikamaru a good punch when I read this)

Also this moment wasn’t exactly the best adapted sequence but it’s much better than the previous one and with the right context it all comes quite justified.

You could also say that there was also that one time were Temari hits Shikamaru with her fan after she realizes in the Konoha Hiden that Shikamaru and her were actually searching for a wedding gift for Naruto and Hinata,

“Hmm, so that’s what it all was....” She said, smiling peacefully.

“No, hold on ...Ah!!” Shikamaru inadvertently let out an exclamation.

It was possible that Temari’s misunderstanding had been- “Hey, oi ...You couldn’t have thought that, right.”

When he said that, for some reason, Temari silently took her tessen off her back, holding it in her hand.

“H-hey...what is it?” He asked. “Why’re you suddenly taking that out...? Wh- what’s up with your chakra...?!”

Temari grinned affectionately at him.

Shikamaru was captivated by the sight, and found a smile forming on his face, too.

Smiling at each other like that, they looked like the very picture of an intimate pair of lovers.

That night in Konoha...

One sudden, out-of-season gale swept over Konoha’s hot springs, and lasted the entirety of the night. The residents and tourists spent the whole night awake, too frightened to sleep...

Source: Konoha Hiden: The Perfect Day for a Wedding (2015) by Masashi Kishimoto and Shō Hinata

And I agree I am not saying this is fine either (though there isn’t that much of an explicit but an implicit hit), but is also something Temari shows to be sorry and ashamed about later in the story. Even though she is prideful and won’t be able to admit it she finally does. Because at the end of the day Temari is a lover and fighter but, even though she won’t admit it, will love rather than fight.

Besides the context in here is different. They had already went on a date and could almost be consider a couple. I had already posted a quote were Ino and Sakura talked about Shikamaru and Temari’s relationship. It was obvious there was something going on for months (If you want to get to know better you can see the time line). It wasn’t that far-fetched to understand the situation as Temari, someone who’s pretty direct, was interpreting them.

It’s something through which they both learn and grew together. Shikamaru will never be as frontal as she might want to but he is willing to give it a try for her and she is willing to try to understand what is going in his mind.

Also I think that this novels suffered of having different writers so it sometimes feels as the story unnecessarily regresses. Kishimoto only illustrates the stories and this becomes pretty showing. However and despite I don’t enjoy Temari hitting Shikamaru, the novels itself aren’t that detached from Temari’s character. The soul of her character is still there.

But are these slight changes in the anime showed us the way that they were trying to head Temari’s character in Boruto, changes that as we had seen during her analysis don’t seem to fit rightly her character. Specially in Perriots adaptation of the manga we see a deep misunderstanding of Temari, from her behaviour to her wants and feelings. Unluckily, the worst was yet to come.

3. Boruto: Why did they did this?

Well, here is what triggered this whole post. Temari’s portrayal in Boruto. And I got to say one thing before starting with this analysis. I really like some scenes of Temari in Boruto.

To see her in action, training with the new generation of the Ino-Shika-Cho and protecting her son were fairly enjoyable but, more importantly, are congruent with her character. It’s her more domestic scenes which I tend to dislike a lot.

I consider than in this scenes they depict Temari as an angry housewife and an aggressive mother which, in my opinion, are the greatest disservice to Temari’s character. Maybe I am the only one that thinks this, but (as I said previously) I don’t find them funny nor that they depict Temari correctly, serve a motif in the narrative or serve any agenda. They are simply treated as comic relief.

This is truly hurting for someone that is not only a Temari fan but a ShikaTema shipper since they transformed a relationship that was based on mutual trust, respect and communication above anything else into this dynamic we see in Boruto.

And I have to hypothesize why they made Temari do this I would have two main factors:

Lazy Writing and Appeal to Nostalgia: All Nara men marry to troublesome woman so they found in this moments a cheep way to remind the audience constantly that Temari is troublesome and therefore be able to make easy correlations to Shikaku’s relationship with Yoshino.

The Tsundere Trend: Maybe this is me overthinking a little bit too much (but when I don’t) but the Tsundere one of the most capitalized dere types in anime. People seem to love them in a way I don’t fully understand. Having a woman inflict danger to his partner is the most easy way to scream “tsundere” maybe not the best but an easy one. Mind that when we speak about a tsundere I mean:

A stock love interest who is usually stern, cold or hostile to the person they like, while occasionally letting slip the warm and loving feelings hidden inside due to being shy, nervous, insecure or simply unable to help acting badly in front of the person they like.

The Japanese term tsundere refers to an outwardly violent character who "runs hot and cold", alternating between two distinct moods: tsuntsun (aloof or irritable) and deredere (lovestruck).

Tsundere Source

Funny enough I never saw Temari as a Tsundere. I would never say, from the manga, that Temari ‘runs hot and cold.’ Yes, you don’t want to mess up with her when she is angry but it’s not like this happen often in the manga.

The only time I consider we have seen Temari go angry pretty quickly (in Naruto) was in her match with Shikamaru when he said that he wouldn’t be defeated by a woman. But I think we can’t apply one situation to larger and broader spectrum. That was in the middle of a fight and, as I explained in a previous post of mine, there were much more other things involved in the context of the manga/anime at that point in time.

I have always consider Temari someone who was deep in control of herself and her emotions, capable of displaying what she wants to show when she wants. This is because of her own basic fear of being hurt, hence she only shows this emotions when she is either, truly hurt, angry or when she trust enough the other person.

That’s why is so important that the only times we have seen Temari fully displaying this emotions were around Shikamaru or her brothers.

I don’t like that much dere types but, if I had to chose one, her sarcastic humor and realistic outlook of life, always seemed more alike to the profile of a hinedere

The hinedere is a sarcastic, cynical person who always looks to the darker, more realistic side of things and is very quick to reveal that to other characters. They tend to be arrogant and cold-hearted however, the hinedere will have a soft spot for their love interest and will reluctantly but reliably do anything for them.

Hinedere Source

This dere type may not be as popular but, I think, fits much more her personality all through Naruto. However, that’s a personal opinion and no falling into a dere type should, if it’s understood correctly, disrupt the core character.

Okay so, they wanted to make Temari fall into this direction but... Why isn’t this her? Well that’s the following point.

4. Why this isn’t Temari?

Temari at the beginning of Naruto is someone that thinks that life is like in the dessert: everything is though and hard and only the fittest are meant to survive. Anything or anyone that shows her weakness is naturally inferior or undesirable. That is her outlook of life: you have to be pragmatic, logic and strong if you want to continue fighting another day. The weak are naturally destined to loose, and hence she doesn’t care to be the one to destroy them since it’s only when you impose fear that you’ll be actually able to survive.

That ideology, she had learn all through her childhood, translates in her battle against Tenten and began to be challenged in her battle against Shikamaru. At the end we see a Temari that, despite being born to fight, develops as a character chooses to dedicate her life to the search of peace in order to protect those weaker ones that she once loathed. That’s why she is an incredible ambassador for Suna and good adviser of Gaara: she yet has that pragmatic, logical and sometimes cynical point of view but that contrast with the idealism of her brother and helps them to balance each other out. She is highly loyal and I am sure she’ll do anything for her family and to protect that peace she found in it.

Hence, I always find it pretty hard to believe that Temari would rather take her fan and hit someone before having a reasonable, direct and straightforward conversation.

Even, before her evolution, we see that Temari is much less willing to enter a unreasonable and violent dispute than her brothers and that is what, in the first instances sets her apart from them.

When Temari first hits the scene just before the start of the Chunin Exams, by mere virtue of the fact that the group that she’s with is intimidating, she becomes a bit scary herself, but she shows to be different than both of them.

Kankuro comes off as the tough, scary guy who you don’t want to mess with only to be swiftly upstaged by the seriously blood-chilling Gaara.

(Sorry for the image in spanish but basically Temari is telling Kankuro to leave Konohamaru alone and to not involve her in his actions)

Temari, on the other hand, stands by coolly, occasionally offering her brothers warnings or plays referee. Her sit-back-and-bide-her-time attitude makes her look like the most stable of the three in comparison; Kankuro picks a pointless fight with a kid and Gaara ends up looking psychopathic.

Temari’s rational and cool behavior also pays testament to what readers later see are some of her major strengths which keeps repeating itself through the manga, in the Forest of Death during The Chunin Exams and in The Five Kages’s Summit it was Temari who during tense times was able to cool them up.

(Temari asking Gaara to calm down during the second stage of the Chunin Exams)

However, I got to admit that Temari isn’t a saint. She has a sharp tongue and she is straight foward and direct what, as we said before may lead to her to say things that, in retrospect, they wish they could rescind, or at least soften, which can lead them to respond defensively or re-actively.

Things like this we see them while she looks at Shikamaru after the failure of Sasuke’s Rescue Mission. Even when she had lectured Shikamaru she then looked at him as if she questioned if she had been to harsh on him. It was clear that she had misjudge him as she realized how much she cared for his friends. Or in the Konoha Hiden as, after having that little incident with Shikamaru she is nervous to see him again.

Images Sources (Manga in Spanish)

That’s why I can’t imagine Temari simply hitting someone just for kicks. Is not like she can’t but that she doesn’t want or sees the appeal to do it.

The is in a lot of senses the perfect kunoichi, disciplined, determined, strong and intelligent and will never let anyone mock her (that’s for sure). She is ruthless towards her opponents cause that is her way of approaching a rival but she will never be violent for violence’s sake.

It’s not like we just attacked the Leaf Village for kicks, you know? We were following orders. That’s all, just like we’re doing on this mission.

Temari to Shikamaru during the Sasuke’s Retrieval Arc

But even less than this I imagine being violent towards people she appreciates and cares as Shikamaru and Shikadai. Yes, I think she would most likely express herself through some tough love, being strict with Shikadai and not letting Shikamaru just slack and complain about everything. But, never, ever, I imagined her being physically or verbally violent towards them without feeling any remorse. Cause she never was in Naruto.

She was direct and honest, maybe a bit to much for people, but after her the Chunin Exams her character never showed to be like that to anyone. Even less towards Shikamaru.

You have the “crybaby” thing going on but I would rather think that of a positive rather than a negative aspect because of the way in which she says it. It shows their connection as individuals which is full of bickering and this back and forth of clever commentaries but that is build on common ground. You may not be the people that like these but that doesn’t mean that Shikamaru feel the same as you.

If not he would never have this expression on this face...

Source Image

Temari is the one that trusted fully in him during war even to the point of considering him capable of being Hokage because “he has the power to reach/.sway away people’s hearts” and she wants to create a world of peace with him. Their relationship was about bringing out the best of each other not the worst, which doesn’t mean they don’t function like fully capable individuals without the other (cause they do) but that through their interactions they developed into better people. We are after all, social creatures and we need of others and the Sand Siblings are exemplary that that doesn’t make you weak but stronger. That you can change your preconceived notions of the world and learn from others, change for the better and use that strength protect instead to attack or seclude yourself.

So why, if Temari was capable to reach a point where she was at her best, letting her fear to be hurt to fall, and use her naturally energetic and confident persona to lead others effectively, through support and guidance, Boruto writers tend to write her in her moments with Shikamaru at what would be her worst, struggling to control her temper and with her stubbornness and rigidness making her excessively enter in conflict or disagreement or directly reject and dismiss others?

This is a complete character regression for Temari. And I don’t mean that characters can’t have their moments, nor that Temari should be perfect, when they are at that stage. But that should be addressed in that manner and not as comic relief.

In my opinion Temari had always a talent to give Shikamaru what he needed, giving him some tough love when he needed but at the same time being empowering.

Source: Naruto: Shikamaru Hiden - A Cloud Drifting in Silent Darkness (2015) by Masashi Kishimoto, Takashi Yano

That’s why, with the clear feel and need to protect and be appreciated by the ones they love and enjoying herself the most when they are surrounded by them, I can’t really see Temari acting like this.

5. PS: I still love you

This turned out to be really long so I won’t pull it any further. Just let me say this last words.

I really like Temari, I really do, and in part a lot of my dislike of her portrayal in Boruto comes from that same factor. I truly think she is an amazing kunoichi and someone girls could look up to when watching Naruto, cause yes she had flaws, but this were addressed as such and were never used as comic relief. Besides, her good qualities and strengths quickly unnumbered her flaws: she was intelligent, strong, honest, disciplined, determined, dutiful, loyal and caring. Yes she might be prideful, overly confident, way to upfront and may not like to show that much her emotions but I don’t consider that this flaws could beat her logical and rational mindset that first matched her with characters like Shikamaru.

Truly I think these scenes are a disservice towards my favorite female character of this whole manga and anime to the extent that if there was one thing I could change about the whole series would be this.

Temari wasn’t that much in the manga or in the anime but she was capable of leaving a palpable impression in me (to the extent that I wrote a +6.6k word essay about her, counting quotes and all) as well as in lots of other people. And that should tell you a lot about her as a character, a character that yes; could have been even better in terms of story and narrative than she was in the Naruto but that also certainly is much better than how they portray her in Boruto.

#naruto #manga #anime #boruto #opinion #temari #shikamaru x temari #nara #shikatema #temashika #shikadai #violence as comic relief is not funny #i will get so much hate for this #character analysis

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nerv0usm3chanic · 3 years

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CORRUPTION

Chapters: 1 || 2 || 3 || 4

((NOTE - This is an introduction to a new PERMANENT AU feature exclusive to nerv0usm3chanic. Please see further, generalized information regarding this AU here: X

Be advised that each of these chapters are VERY LONG. The full content will be tucked under a read more after a brief introduction segment.

DO NOT REBLOG.))

“Arthur...have you been feeling okay?” Vivi asked, taking a seat beside Arthur as he focused on the project before him. He’d been fiddling with robotics for a while just as a hobby, but given how long and hard he’d been working, it looked like Arthur was working on an even more vital project than any before. He was clumsy with his right hand as he set down a pair of tweezers and looked at Vivi with tired eyes and a weak smile.

“I’ve been better, Vivi.” Arthur sighed tiredly. He’d been back from the hospital for nearly a month now - two and a half months since he’d lost his arm - and the blond spent nearly every day working on an intense project. “It’s...not too easy adjusting to not having something...” Arthur admitted quietly, staring at the metal bones before him.

“Oh, jinx! I’m sorry, Artie, I-I didn’t mean-!” Vivi started, backpedaling in her sentence before Arthur reached out with his right hand and touched her shoulder. He smiled at her softly, assuring her that it was alright.

“N-no, it’s okay, Vivi. You know it’s not your fault.” Arthur said gently, reassuring Vivi that what had happened was in the past and really there wasn’t anything she could have done. Except maybe not make them go to the cave in the first place. But Arthur refused to entertain that dark train of thought...it might wake him up. “It was just...a lot of crazy coincidences.” That was something he told himself over and over, day in and day out. It helped him feel better about the absence on his left side.

“Hmmm...well...are-are things going better?” She asked, tucking her hair behind her ears, “Is it easier with your cousin and uncle taking care of things?”

“Hmm...uh, well...to a degree.” Arthur answered, turning back to his project and carefully picking up the tweezers. Even after weeks of practice, Arthur still found it hard to adjust to being right-handed...among other things. “Lucan takes care of the front of the shop and does some fixing and Uncle Lance still runs the shop as normal. I help out with checking numbers and making sure bills and such get paid. So, I’m still working. It keeps me busy when I’m not sleeping or working on this thing.”

“So this is...” the blue-hared woman started, looking at the complex assemblage of metal rods, hinges, and wires, along with a lot of other things Vivi didn’t know the particular names of.

“Yep.” Arthur nodded, using the tweezers to carefully arrange a pattern of wires to eventually lead to sensors in one of the digits. He still had a lot of work to do before he was finished with his prosthetic arm.

“Okay um, yeah, um hold it there, for just a second.” Arthur directed as his doctor carefully positioned the first rendition of the blond’s new left arm. Six months had passed and this was going to be the first attempt to connect the false appendage to the specialized port. In that time, Arthur had spent so much time studying and using the nearby university resources, he might as well have earned an honorary degree with what he was attempting. Arthur knew this was going to hurt and he needed his cousin and uncle for support. The pale fingers of his right hand were grasping tight to Lance’s rough gloved hand in worried anticipation.

“Just take yer time, lad.” Lance replied in the softest version of his gruff voice. He wasn’t the most comforting of individuals, but the short-statured Kingsmen was practically Arthur’s parent with how much time he’d put into raising the boy. Arthur wouldn’t have asked anyone else to be there for emotional support. “An’ don’ do anything ye don’ feel ready fer.”

“We ken always do this later if ye need ta iron out some wrinkles.” Lucan offered, giving Arthur a pat on his whole shoulder. As his cousin, it was expected that Lucan would be somewhat close to Arthur. But seeing as the two had bonded so much more closely since Lucan moved to Tempo, the younger Kingsmen might as well have been brothers. All three men looked to the doctor preparing to attach the false arm.

“I wish I could numb the pain for you, Arthur.” He murmured gently, “But this is a prototype and...we need to gauge how well the adaptor works to communicate between the wires and nerves...” The arm had been through so many tests and iterations with the help of the local university and waiting for more tests wasn’t going to work anymore.

The doctor needed results for his paper. The university needed results to keep funding the specialist and Arthur. Arthur needed results...in the form of a new left arm. The chance that there would even be any kind of re-use of his left arm again was enough to motivate Arthur for this improvement.

“I’m ready...just...be careful.” Arthur nodded, gripping his uncle’s hand tighter as the prosthetic’s port approached the adaptor his doctor had installed two months earlier. There was that ominous tingle in the back of his mind, a dark chuckle rising up from the depths as the separated parts got closer. Amber eyes widened in fear as he noticed a small flux of energy and a tiny zap between the ports now just millimeters apart.

“W-wai-!” But he was too late. A pained scream ripped free from him, lightning practically erupting around Arthur’s arm port as everyone was pushed from the blond. Arthur would wake sometime later in a hospital bed, his new arm heavy and limp. He would cry out in angered frustration, causing everyone to leave the room as he pitched anything within reach at those nearby.

He had failed...again! There was nothing this metal arm could do but sit there! It was an arm-shaped paperweight...it was just good for looking like an arm...until he made a metal finger twitch.

“Alright, you ready to test out that coordination, Artie?” Lewis called over the short distance between him and Arthur while Vivi and Mystery watched eagerly. Arthur was going to be practicing more refined movement with his arm, this time it was catching and throwing a ball. A simple task for many, but Arthur had been so focused on preparing his arm, working on it days and nights for months. Vivi was proud to see Arthur regaining himself; the use of his left arm being the most important thing she’s noticed.

“I’m ready!” Arthur called back, flexing his robotic hand to prepare it to catch the baseball. He’s been working on getting back to being left-handed, but had found tasks much easier to accomplish with developed skill in using both his hands. Forced ambidexrty was interesting to accomplish - and he was exceedingly proud of his abilities - but now the point was to get his false arm’s motions up to snuff.

“He’s improved so much!” Vivi says to Mystery as she watches Lewis pitch the ball gently. “I was really worried about him for a while.”

“Yeah...it was a little shaky for a while there, wasn’t it?” Mystery added, internally still angry at himself for using such drastic action. It’s been a solid 11 months since then and still-! Mystery nearly bolted and then forced himself to sit back down with a huff; he was doing his best to contain the canine urge to chase the ball. The first few volleys back and forth were fine, no trouble at all for Arthur. Mystery felt a sudden strange energy in the air as Arthur caught the ball again and perked up as he smelt a strange singe.

“That had some real pep!” Lewis laughed as he ran to catch the ball and prepared to throw it back. He was so glad to see Arthur seemingly back to himself once more. For a while, Arthur had become a near-complete hermit, forgoing any kind of social engagement to get his arm made.

Arthur himself felt almost too relieved to be able to use his arm so easily. Physical therapy with the doctors was tough and mechanical therapy with the robotic majors at the local university was a nightmare...but it was worth it to have a functional arm once again. And the grant money to develop the appendage further wasn’t half-bad either. It was exciting, thrilling even! He almost could feel the electric excitement as he-oh...oh no. Arthur caught the ball and paused his adrenaline rush as he sees electricity dance over his arm again and hears the sizzle of the tennis ball’s singing fibers in his hand. Quickly he passed the ball to his other hand.

“Ah- uh, I think th-that’s enough for now. I think the arm’s getting a little overworked. Ah, um, st-static and all that!” He gives an awkward grin to ease Vivi and Lewis’s sudden confusion. “I’m ah, g-gonna go inside and discharge.” Arthur gave an awkward laugh and scurried to get inside the mechanics shop again, his trio of friends were left worried and confused.

“Why won’t you leave me alone?” Arthur whispered in a hiss, glaring at his hand as a ribbon of green electricity coiled over the metal. The dark voice in his head merely chuckled as Arthur went to a specialized discharging station in his room.

‘I was bored. You live a very dull life, Kingsmen.’ The voice hummed idly, ‘If you would just allow me to take over-’

“Never! Just-just leave already!” Arthur murmured, sliding into his room and heading for the discharging rod. On the surface, it just let off static electricity. On the inside, there was a battery hooked up and storing the electricity Arthur would often unwillingly produce. He used the power to run a lamp attached to his desk.

‘If I could, I might...but at this moment, I can’t. So I will just bide my time, boy. I am very patient~. And when your friends inevitably abandon you for your behavior~.’ Arthur frowned, furious that he had to deal with this thing all the time. But what could he do? Exorcising a spirit was one thing, but he was sure this being wouldn’t let go after a few holy words, a splash of water, and some special tags.

Arthur might need to find someone who can offer more specialized help than a priest.

Chapters: 1 || 2 || 3 || 4

#curruption au

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meta-squash · 3 years

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Brick Club 1.6.2 “How Jean Can Become Champ”

I’m sorry if some of this is muddled, I wrote some of this post to avoid doomscrolling yesterday (not that it worked). It’s also long.

First of all I gotta say, I do love how Hugo manages to get everything to slot into place, when he doesn’t use his handwavy magic. The chapter opens with Madeleine settling some “pressing business of the mayorality” just in case he decides to go and collect Cosette from Montfermeil himself. Obviously this doesn’t happen, but the fact that he’s arranged stuff in advance means he’s able to go to Arras etc and mayoral matters are settled even when he’s revealed his true identity.

Hugo calls Javert “this savage in the service of civilization, this odd mixture of Roman, Spartan, monk, and corporal.” I’ve always assumed the term “savage” was another reference to his Romani ancestry, as well as his origins within a jail. The rest of the references have to do with different types or levels of self-discipline and sense of duty. Essentially, this phrase is saying that Javert carries his sense of duty with him everywhere and rarely strays from it. I’ve nicked this straight from the wikipedia page on Roman pietas, but I feel like it fits so well: “A Roman with the virtue of pietas did not leave his religious duties at the door of the temple, but carried them with him everywhere, following the will of the gods in his business transactions and everyday life.”

"His whole being expressed abasement and steadfastness, an indescribably courageous dejection.” Weirdly I love this description. Javert hates being wrong, but to admit it is to act justly and according to duty, so he does it. Which is just so interesting because he could easily not even bother to tell Valjean about any of this, and just go on with his life as normal, and Valjean would be none the wiser. But that’s not how Javert functions. The difference between himself and other cops is that his sense of duty and justice extends to himself, which he says much more directly later on in the chapter. I just like that this description includes both his steadfastness to duty and his humiliation and self-frustration at being wrong and admitting it. “Courageous dejection” is such an interesting phrase, but it makes sense. It takes courage to admit you’re wrong, and even more when it’s something as egregious as informing on a superior.

Javert interrupts Valjean here, which I can’t decide what to think about. Part of me assumes that he interrupts Valjean because Valjean hasn’t even started to speak, so it’s still sort of....socially allowed for Javert to tack another bit of explanation onto what he just finished saying. Part of me wonders if Javert feels okay about interrupting Valjean either because he assumes he’s going to be dismissed anyway, and so this small rudeness of interrupting a superior doesn’t really matter, or because despite his sense of duty, he still feels quite a bit of aversion towards Valjean (which Hugo tells us a paragraph prior) and so is less bothered by interrupting him due to his dislike. Either way, it’s interesting that Javert is so keen on duty and correct conduct and yet he interrupts Valjean here.

“...you were severe to me the other day, unjustly. Be justly so today.” Wow okay so. Javert directly disobeyed and contested authority, argued with Madeleine and attempted to undermine his command to let Fantine go. Madeleine reacted accordingly, sending Javert away. And yet Javert feels that this treatment was unjust. I think the reason he sees it as unjust is because he sees himself as defending the honor of a mayor or authority figure (as well as a well-to-do citizen, Bamatabois) against a lowly prostitute. Despite the fact that Valjean specifically defended Fantine and offered her help, he’s still going to see his defense of authority and justice as being in the right over Valjean’s empathy towards her. (Sidenote: I love that he says “the other day” even though Fantine’s arrest was almost two months ago.)

Again, we get another concrete passage of time. It’s been six weeks since Fantine’s arrest. She’s still in hospital. Hugo isn’t huge on indicating exact passages of time. Lots of “eh, about three weeks later” or “maybe four months ago” in this book. Also the absolute mess of the Thenardier boys’ timeline. Anyway, these continuous references to how much time has passed is important. Hugo wants us to know how long Fantine was a sex worker for, and now how long she’s been languishing in bed, still sick.

Javert lists off things that he recognized in Valjean. All of these make sense to me except “information you obtained at Faverolles.” When has Madeleine ever mentioned being from or going to Faverolles? The Hapgood translates this as “inquiries which you had caused to be made at Faverolles.” This makes it sound like he actively tried to find his family. Hugo specifically tells us that by the time Valjean left prison, he had forgotten his family entirely. And yet, it seems here as if he made an effort to find them, or find out what happened to them, once he had the means. What’s interesting to me is that Valjean would do that at all. Part of me says, well of course he would, he still cares about his family, and probably wants to know what happened to them, not to mention he has this thing about rose-colored glasses and probably was hoping he’d get some information despite knowing deep down that they were lost to him. But another part of me wonders why he would do that, considering that it could compromise his identity. Also I can imagine he might associate his past self, even his pre-bread robbery self, with his convict-Valjean self and his past as a “Bad Person,” so I’m not sure he would want to think about or associate with his convict self in that way. Just the idea that he maybe sent to Faverolles for information about his family is an interesting little piece of information.

We also learn that he has a leg that drags a little (and at the very end of the novel we learn it’s because he spent 20 years with a chain on that leg). Something that I’ve sort of written about before, when I reread the book in February last year, is how much information about Valjean we don’t get from Hugo’s narration. Despite much of the book being from Valjean’s POV (or Hugo looking over Valjean’s shoulder, which is how I always imagine it), Hugo always stays respectfully distant compared to his narration of other characters. The post I wrote was mostly re: Valjean’s true Thoughts And Feelings, but it also goes for a lot of his physical aspects and actions as well. Hugo doesn’t tell us about Valjean’s dragging leg when he describes him, Javert has to reveal that to us. We are told a lot of his aspects or actions through other characters interpreting him to him (wow jesus does that phrase make sense?) rather than Hugo showing/telling us while narrating through Valjean.

“He was very poor. Nobody paid any attention to him. Such people get by, one hardly knows how.” So my first thought is that this line is sort the opposite of what I talked about above. Javert knows how such people get by. Partly because he sees it every day, and partly because he grew up like that. While we just got evidence of Valjean remembering his past, this is evidence of Javert rejecting and forgetting his own. And my other thought is again how applicable this is to modern day. Cops, rich people, etc turn away despite knowing how hard poor people struggle. They know “how these people get by,” which is barely, and they know why and they know what can help or fix it, but they turn away and absolutely refuse to see it.

“Such people, when they are not mud, are dust.” This is such a pretty and poetic way of declaring such a gross opinion. But also it’s such an interesting pair of descriptors. When you’re poor the way Valjean was, or the Thenardiers will be, you are in a position to be blown away by society and by poverty, to be dirt that disappears and spreads far and wide with the gust of wind, and if you’re trying to locate a certain speck of dirt that you had been looking at before the wind blew, you wouldn’t be able to identify it. Or you’re in a position to be bogged down, to be stuck packed together, trying to survive, begging and stealing off of others around you because there’s no other way to survive, being stepped on and scoffed at by people in a better position than you, and then scraped up and tossed in a gutter or the galleys when it gets to be too much.

We get an age! Valjean is fifty-four. I feel like this is important mostly for his hair later on. Fifty is old enough to be greying but I think this makes us aware that he’s not yet old enough to be totally white-haired, and the change is a shock for that reason as well.

Holy shit this is the most adjectives I’ve seen used to describe a single character within a single chapter so far. Words describing Javert or Javert’s actions in this chapter: respectfully, conscientious, clearheaded, straightforward, sincere, upright, austere, fierce, violent, soldierly, cold, patient, genuine humility, tranquil, resigned, serious, calm, gloomy, sad, abasement, steadfastness, courageous dejection, solemnity, incorruptible, supplicating, simplicity, dignity, unenlightened, stern, pure, desperate, resolute, bizarre grandeur, oddly honest. The biggest takeaway from all of these, I think, is how much Javert’s pious loyalty to justice and morality is not corrupt, at least in the usual sense. It’s misguided, it’s unsympathetic, but he genuinely believes in his own actions. He is aware of his severity, but he doesn’t see it as cruelty, he sees it as justice. He doesn’t acknowledge the evil of his actions because he doesn’t see them as evil. He is (and I want to go into this later for 1.8.3) a personification of the “evil of good,” and an illustration of how justice can go too far. But he does everything with that air of honesty and cold dignity, because he genuinely believes that his morals and his dedication to justice is in the right.

“And now that I see the real Jean Valjean, I do not understand how I could have believed anything else. I beg your pardon.” So we’ve already established that Javert does not change his mind or admit wrong easily. We also already know he doesn’t like Valjean anyway. The only reason, it seems, that he is admitting to this mistake and asking for dismissal, is because of Valjean’s position of authority. Javert does not do mercy; once he believes someone is bad, they are forever bad. The exception is those in power, those who he sees as authority figures, even when he questioned them just a chapter or two earlier. His sense of duty overrides his morality. Which I think is a major point for him. This is what screws him over later on at the end of the book. When his morality drastically changes, he can’t change his sense of duty to fit it. The issue in this chapter a mistake which is fairly excusable: there is another person he can transfer that moral judgement onto (Champmathieu) and Valjean’s position as an authority figure overrides any of the moral suspicions Javert had about him before this transfer of moral judgement. If Madeleine-Valjean had been just a regular merchant, I wonder if Javert would have admitted to his identity mistake but also continued to be suspicious, simply because his instincts told him that if you think someone is bad, they’re probably bad.

Oh okay so this actually potentially answers my question from last chapter. Javert says “Scaling a wall and theft includes everything. It is a case not for a police court but for the superior court.” So does that mean the police could just toss people into prison for however long they liked if the crime was a misdemeanor?

Javert mentions that the police have not found Petit Gervais. I mostly want to note this because Hugo told us earlier on that Valjean gives money to every Savoyard that passes through M-sur-M and asks their name, and it seemed to imply that in doing that he’s maybe secretly hoping Petit Gervais will turn up. If Valjean hasn’t found Petit Gervais yet, I doubt the cops will.

Javert fundamentally misunderstands how Valjean is sly and cunning. Because Valjean is quite clever and cunning, but the difference is nearly all of his cunning comes not from direct lies or playing dumb the way that Javert is implying, but by using his surroundings and other people’s assumptions to his own advantage. (Plus disguises and wigs, but we don’t see that until Paris.) He buys himself time through things like the fake address trick during the Thenardier encounter, or wandering and disappearing into the woods like Boulatruelle observed, or taking advantage of incomplete information, like becoming Fauchelevent’s brother or burning his passport and becoming Father Madeleine. Valjean’s whole thing is being able to very quickly scan a room, register things, and then adapt and/or react to his situation quite quickly. (Side note: What’s interesting to me is that he’s great at adapting and acting when it comes to action but he is rather stilted and slow when it comes to emotional reaction or adaptation.)

“...tell her to make her complaint against the carter Pierre Chesnelong. He is a brutal fellow, he almost crushed this woman and her child.” Whenever Hugo mentions carts there’s usually symbolism there. In this case it sounds to me like a parallel of Javert, Fantine, and Cosette. At this point, Fantine is still alive though very sick, and Valjean is planning to go to Montfermeil himself to get Cosette. Javert’s imprisonment of Fantine would have destroyed Cosette along with Fantine, just as Chesnelong’s cart nearly crushed Mme Buseaupied and her child. She gets to make a complaint, she has the potential for Chesnelong to be punished. Fantine doesn’t have that, not to the same extent. She dies before it could happen anyway, but even if it could, she’s a prostitute who would be complaining against a cop, there’s not a lot of power on her side, even with Valjean vouching for her. But at this point, she’s only been “nearly” crushed; her child will be with her soon, at least she get that reunion despite being mortally ill, and Javert’s punishment for nearly crushing Fantine and Cosette is, weirdly, Valjean’s refusal to acknowledge his sense of duty and dismiss him.

“Besides, this is an offense that concerns only me.” This almost exactly parallels Valjean’s comment on Fantine insulting him: “The insult is to me. I can do what I please about it.” This is the second time that Valjean has denied, to his face, Javert’s sense of justice and duty by claiming offenses as a personal matter rather than a judicial one.

“In my life I have often been severe to others. It was just. I was right. Now if I were not severe toward myself, all I have justly done would become injustice. Should I spare myself more than others. No. You see, if I had been eager only to punish others and not myself, that would have been despicable!” I mentioned it above, but this is just so telling. Javert knows how severe he is, but he doesn’t see it as cruelty or lack of empathy, he sees his severity as totally in the right because it is for the good of justice. He especially sees it as good because he is willing to treat himself in a similar way. But this does make me wonder, like, would any treatment he got be as callous as the way he treats others? He’s a cop, and while he’s not the favorite of the other cops, he’s still an authority figure. So if he asked for others to be severe to him the way he had been severe to others, would they be? Or would they treat him better because he is or was an authority figure? Anyway, this line really establishes how entrenched in his own morals Javert really is. I feel like these lines here are the entire setup for his conflict and death at the end of the book. If he didn’t believe in treating himself with the same severity as others, the stakes wouldn’t be as high re: the consequences for letting Valjean go free.

Javert calls the defense of a lower person against a higher-up “ill-begotten kindness,” which I think is a really good indication of the way his view of justice works. Defending someone like Fantine, who has been beaten down and nearly broken by the system, isn’t empathy or charity to him, but kindness that shouldn’t be. He seems to think that in situations like this, the person who is being pardoned or defended shouldn’t be, and is sort of like gunning for special treatment by accepting that kindness.

“Good God, it is easy to be kind, the difficulty is to be just.” Maybe this is a weird way to look at this line, but I can’t help but think about Valjean’s conflict after leaving Digne when I read this. At that point, for Valjean, the difficult was in choosing to be kind, rather than choosing to continue to ride his old instincts that would lead to more crime. Javert learns at the end of the novel how difficult it is to be kind when all you know is being “just,” and it kills him. But here Javert equates kindness with moral leniency or maybe even moral abandonment, rather than with empathy and aid. To Javert, people who have done something criminal or morally bad cannot change and cannot be rehabilitated and will always be bad. Which makes me wonder what he thinks kindness actually is. What is Javert’s version of kindness, since he sees kindness in the form of aid or sympathy as reprehensible?

I wonder if Javert is thinking of Fauchelevent when he says, “I have hands, I can till the ground.” Would Javert have changed if he’d gone into labor work for a while, like Fauchelevent? Would work as someone who has no power over others have changed him?

Javert describes himself as a spy in a derogatory way. I think this is the only time he ever references spying in a derogatory way towards himself. However, he has been described as a spy or having spy-like qualities more than once by Hugo. For just a moment, he agrees with the narrator and reader about what he’s like, only it’s from a completely different angle. We can see that he’s “like a police spy” because he’s merciless and inflexible and generally unwilling to change any of his ways at all. He sees himself as “like a police spy” because he has breached a social contract and not only falsely suspected but reported on a superior.

A thought on Tome 1.6: I find it really interesting that despite the fact that this tome is titled “Javert,” it doesn’t include 1.5.13, which contains more of Javert’s narrative than 1.6.1 does. In 1.5.13, we see the drastic effect Valjean’s actions have on Javert, and the emotional turmoil he goes through in questioning authority the way that he does. And yet, that chapter is contained in “The Descent.” Instead, the Tome starts with “Now, Rest,” and Javert’s only role in this chapter is to write the letter to the prefect of police. So despite the Tome being titled after him, Javert is really only emotionally and narratively relevant for the second chapter. I would think that it might have been better to bookend the Tome with two chapters that were most relevant to him, 1.5.13 (which would be 1.6.1 then) and 1.6.2. Instead, 1.6.1 focuses more on Fantine’s condition which, though caused by Javert, doesn’t actually include or affect him at this point. At the same time, the last Tome was titled “The Descent.” This descent of Fantine’s levels out once she has fainted, which is a good transition into the next Tome.

#les miserables #les miserables meta #brickclub #lm 1.6.2 #les mis #les mis meta #also ugh i'm sorry i use valjean and madeleine interchangeably and i've given up trying not to

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romioneficfest · 4 years

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My Gift to the RFF Community

Good Evening/Afternoon/Morning to everyone who has read, commented, reviewed, and most of all created content for this inaugural fest. My Black scaly heart is almost beating normally for all of the excellent works presented for consideration and appreciation.

While the one who inspired this fest didn’t contribute (and ‘tis since RL is a pain in the arse right now for most people!) I’m glad so many did contribute their time and efforts to this fest. 84 total works were submitted, 77 of which are up for voting consideration.

1 more will be published, an unabridged version of one of the fics submitted. The creator trimmed it down to meet fest rules but I promised them I’d post the unabridged version once voting started.

However, I wish to offer my gift to you, one from a special place in my heart - the old theory of what happens to the man who suddenly has almost everything he wants yet doesn’t need? Does it corrupt him, like the Invisible Man? Or is his character so resolute that it doesn’t affect him in the least?

Thus, I give you this fic, as to how I think it would progress.

Title: Windfall Prompt: Bonus Day Author: Dragon Rating: K+ Brief Summary: Hermione comes home from work and finds Ron sitting quietly in his office, reading parchment. When he doesn’t hear her, which is odd for him, she goes to investigate. Ron shows her what has his attention.

Content Warning: Indirect mention of minor character death; Hermione giving serious cheek

‘What a bloody long day,’ Hermione kicked off her dress shoes and put down her satchel, appreciating the fluffy carpets under her toes. Dealing with law enforcement misconduct was always a pain. They needed different procedures on Bailiff and Auror interactions.

Broken from her thoughts by the lack of dinner smell, she looked around. Ron wasn’t in the kitchen, preparing dinner like he loved to do. The kids were still at Hogwarts, with another month’s worth of term left before they returned home.

She tossed aside her purse and went to their office, the one he magically and lovingly expanded so they would have room to work without getting underfoot while also appreciating each other’s company. Sure enough, Ron was in there, wearing the half-moon glasses he picked up last year to help with the small print reading he said to her, even if she knew already. It wasn’t like she didn’t have her own sets to wear as well since there were so many documents crossing her desk that had too much fine print to read comfortably after long hours at the office.

‘Ron,’ said Hermione. He hadn’t heard her walk into their home which seemed a bit odd. He hadn’t heard her this time, either.

She walked the five steps to where he was sitting in his comfortable chair and put her hand on his shoulder. He reciprocated and without saying a word, he handed up the three sheets of parchment up to her, saying nary a word.

Hermione scanned the first page and gasped! While she was never close to Aunt Muriel, she was his family and she would treat her with respect, even if she didn’t like her too much, not with how nitpicky she was with the women in the family. Angelina was the only one. Somehow they’d bonded and were fast friends. Hermione couldn’t understand it.

She flipped to the second page, reading the document and as she scanned the page, her eyes widened for every single subsequent line she read. She flipped it to the third before looking down and seeing her husband quite lost in thought.

She went back and re-read it all, making sure she knew and understood what she read.

‘I’m sorry about Aunt Muriel,’ the bushy-haired witch said.

‘I’m surprised she lived as long as she did. But even Healers couldn’t help her any longer.’

‘She is still family,’ Hermione put her hand back on his shoulder and squeezed.

‘She wasn’t a favourite of mine, not like you or Dad.’ Ron took the parchment and put it back down on his desk. ‘What are we going to do?’

‘That’s up to you, Ron. It’s not like either of us is comfortable attending funerals anymore.’

‘Hell no,’ He sighed. ‘I should go. It’s the right thing to do.’

‘Why don’t you ask Mum and Dad what they think? If they say you don’t have to, then don’t.’

Tapping on the office window interrupted their conversation. ‘Wonder what else is going to happen today?’ Ron got up and went to the window, letting the small barn owl land on his wrist while sticking a leg out for the small rolled parchment attached. ‘Need a kip or a rasher?’

The owl hooted and Ron put it on the temporary roost where the owl could have a drink of water and a snack. ‘Does this need a reply?’ The owl gave one very long hoot. ‘No? Ok. Stay as long as you need. I’m sure you’re a bit tired.’

He unrolled the parchment and scanned the short note, breathing a sigh of relief. ‘It’s a note from Mum. She said that Aunt Muriel made all of her arrangements and, said there are no services since she said we’d been through enough.’

‘That’s surprising, the way she prattled about everyone coming to visit.’

‘Nah, she meant well, even if she was as cranky as Crookshanks.’

‘Well, he is very old, and so was she.’

The silence grew between the married couple, both lost in their thoughts.

‘We could move to a bigger house,’ he blurt out. ‘I know the kids aren’t home much nowadays and that we’re both still working entirely too much but maybe something closer to Mum and work might make things easier?’

‘Our house is fine, Ron. I’m comfortable here especially since most people don’t know where we live. We decided that issue years ago. While yes, I am well known and so are you, if not in the same ways, we don’t need an enormous country estate to flaunt our prestige.’

‘A holiday, perhaps? It’s been a little while since we were off work and away from here.’

‘We can do that,’ Hermione replied noncommittedly. ‘An extended Holiday might be quite lovely, especially if it is somewhere cold this time of the year.’

‘It’s the middle of winter in Australia right now,’ Ron smiled. Hermione returned it fondly, reflecting on that complex time in their lives when grief and rage along with relief and exploration fueled their time tracking down her parents. ‘You said you wanted to return. We could take the kids with us and let them see some of the sights.’

Hermione hummed noncommittedly.

‘What are you thinking, dear?’

‘Do you remember that memorable night about a week after we arrived in Australia?’

‘Which one? Most of them were memorable while we were in Australia. So you’ll have to remind me.’

‘We were in bed after,’ Hermione blushed, ‘and you said what you would do if you had a ridiculous sum of money. While the reward money from the Order of Merlin presentation was nice,’ she added.

‘It was enough to get you your engagement ring and have some galleons in a Gringott’s account,’ Ron added. ‘I think I remember that night now.’

Hermione ran her fingers through his hair. ‘Do you remember what you said you’d do if you had Malfoy money?’

‘You mean before they were bankrupted funding the coup, left destitute and so desperate for galleons Draco went to work?’ He smiled. ‘That part is a bit fuzzy, but then I do think it was half three when we had that conversation and I was about asleep.’

She smiled. ‘You said if you lucked into a stupid amount of money someday and that if we were comfortable financially, you’d want to help others.’

‘I’ve wanted to help others, Hermione. You know the shite I went through, with a broken wand, robes that were too small, clothes that were so short I showed inches of ankles, and those ghastly dress robes.’

Hermione stood behind her husband, rubbing his shoulders. ‘We’ll see to your parents first.’

‘Mum and Dad always come first,’ Ron said without hesitation.

‘And if they don’t want it or say they don’t? What do you want to do?’

‘Tell Bill to put some in there anyway,’ Ron answered.

‘And if the will has them sorted?’

‘I dunno, maybe a Holiday?’

Hermione was quiet, with Ron turning to look at her. ‘What?’

‘Hear me out on this. What if we took some of that windfall and were able to help kids in your situation so they don’t have to be hampered with a broken wand, or robes that don’t fit or can’t afford the books for the term?’

‘Well, the books have already been seen to. You took care of those issues years ago, once you started working.’

‘True but other supplies weren’t included,’ she added. She lifted the parchment and scanned the document. ‘Reading this as I think I am,’

‘Which you probably are,’ Ron added.

‘If we got with some of the rest of the family and asked them to chip in a little bit, say 10 galleons each, once, and with this, we could fund a Trust for underprivileged students.’ She took the glasses down her nose a touch, looking over the top of them at his befuddled face. ‘Imagine being a first-year student with a hand me down wand, hand me down robes, and tattered books. How much more do you think you’d have done if you’d had a set of nice daily robes, a wand that worked, or books that weren’t held together with sellotape?’

‘I thought there was a bunch of wands they used later for the kids who couldn’t afford one.’

‘And you know the lore better than I do – The wand chooses the Wizard. ‘

‘But there are things we need to do first,’ he added. ‘Like – ‘

‘Love,’ she interrupted, smiling brightly. ‘I don’t know if you realize, but the amount bequeathed is a vast sum.’

‘Vast?’

Hermione smiled. ‘Vast, love. Off the top of my head, and the current conversion rate of 10 pounds to the galleon, I’d say it’s –

’10 British pounds to the galleon? You’re full of it.’ Ron took them back and looked at the parchment. He muttered a few words under his breath, doing his calculations.’ He looked up from the parchment and his eyes were about to water. ‘Holy Fuck. Where the bloody fuck did she get that kind of money?’

‘I’m sure it’s been passed down the Prewett lines and with your Uncles perishing before marrying – ‘

‘That left Mum sole beneficiary – ‘

‘And Mum probably asked for Aunt Muriel to pass it over it to the kids.’

‘I imagine the Goblins liked getting their hands on their portion of the Estate. I get that’s how they afford the upkeep and everything but it’s bloody buggering hard to see them get 25% of the value.’

‘At least it’s not on the Muggle side. Theirs is 40% over a certain value.’

Ron looked back at the paperwork. ‘Well, I at least want to give Mum and Dad a Holiday. They’ve not been anywhere for themselves in yonks.’

‘Oh, I agree. And we can take a small one too. It still leaves us quite a bit to play with, I reckon.’

Ron sighed. ‘Growing up, I always wanted to have galleons in my own vault at Gringott’s. I didn’t like that we had to scramble to pay for things second and third hand, listening to Mum begging us to make something last ‘just one more year’. Ron turned his chair around and gave her a crushing hug, squeezing hard but not enough to make her wince. ‘It hurt, Hermione.’

‘I know and we’re not in that situation. We worked very hard early on, saved our galleons, lived frugally and modestly and here we are. The kids are happy and want for nothing, even if they don’t get all they want. We have some nice things, we travel a bit for pleasure, and we’re comfortable.’

‘It’s hard to let go of that mindset, Hermione.’ Ron looked up at his wife, smiling at her. ‘But if we can keep kids from going through what I did, I think it’ll be a big benefit and a tremendous help down the line.’

Hermione kissed Ron on the forehead. ‘Maybe we could speak with Parvati and Lavender and ask them how much a basic robe costs? It wouldn’t be fancy but something that the kids wouldn’t mind.’

‘What about regular clothes? Aren’t most kids in better shape than we were?’

‘It’s easy enough to pick quality things up at charity shops. Supplies shouldn’t be difficult to acquire as well. I’m sure if we ask McGonagall if there are students in need, she’d let us know.’

‘You think we can do this? You think we can make a difference in a kid’s life?’

Hermione knelt, holding her husband’s face in her hands. ‘How much did you appreciate getting nice robes fifth year and a new broom?’

‘Loved it,’ he whispered. ‘I didn’t know for yonks that Harry told the twins to buy me new robes, the git.’

‘But it helped, didn’t it?’

‘I reckon so.’ His face betrayed how he really felt.

‘If you’re worried about people connecting you with what we’re doing we can always put it in another name. We could call it the Muriel Prewett Trust.’

‘She’d go nutters if she knew it was named after her.’

‘So name it after your Uncles? Or Fred? Or Weasley Family Trust?’

An enormous smile broke out on his face. Ron stood, taking his wife’s face in his hands and kissed her deeply, showing her how much her help was appreciated.

‘Esteemed Directors,’ Hermione’s voice boomed in the Wizengamot. She stood in the middle of the floor, splendid in her Tyrian purple robes, a set of gold wands embroidered on the right chest and a Prewitt family heirloom brooch on her left. ‘I wish to broach the last bit of business with you before the term starts.’

‘Go ahead, Solicitor Granger,’ Kingsley’s voice echoed well in the chambers. He smiled, knowing what was about to be discussed.

‘A few months ago, the last of a particular family name from the Sacred 28 passed away from old age. Her heirs, with their blessing,’ Hermione looked up into the stands and saw her husband smiling back at her, ‘have asked to establish a trust for the students of Hogwarts.’

‘The school is properly funded for decades. Why do we require a Trust?’ The elderly wizard she knew all too well spoke first. ‘Hogwarts does not need a trust.’

‘I didn’t say the school, Mr Purifoy,’ she stared back at the old wizard who had previously been Chief Mugwump for the Wizengamot before retiring years prior. ‘I said for the students. The school is well funded. I verified the books before making this appointment.’

‘Go on,’ an elderly witch spoke up. ‘It’s time for afternoon tea.’

‘I promise to hurry, Minister Shafiq.’ Hermione looked around at the old faces and ancient robes. ‘The trust is for the students, for those in need. While many might bristle if it’s considered charity, there are those in need.’

‘No student has ever been turned away from Hogwarts, not in the centuries it’s been open.’

‘I realize that. What I am proposing is that this trust is for those students who arrive at Hogwarts with legitimate needs. How many students arrive at Hogwarts wearing second-hand robes, or a cauldron that explodes the first time they use it because the bottom is too thin? How many have out of date books because that’s all the parents can afford? Minister, we still have a few students coming to us who are the last of the War Orphans. These children have meagre means and no way to catch up with their peers. What I am proposing on behalf of the family is equity, not charity, but investment and philanthropy.’

‘Go on,’ another voice spoke.

‘These students, when they receive their letter for Hogwarts will include in their parchment parcel a letter from the Trust, offering to assist them financially, should they choose. The offering is a set of robes, all necessary supplies, a set of books, and a voucher for Ollivander’s to receive their first wand. Since we don’t recommend children having a duel for a wand, and the number of wands inherited from elders are limited, why not offer these students a head start to their magical education?’

‘That’s ridiculous! Everyone would leap at the chance to have someone else pay for all of their necessities.’

‘You misunderstand me, sir. No one person makes this decision, nor is it made lightly. Why would we make this offer to, say, Draco Malfoy, for his son when they are financially comfortable? These would be pre-screened before they receive their letter.’ She looked around and saw a few heads nodding. ‘It’s not equal treatment, esteemed colleagues, but equity, where those students in need of a hand receive it. While we educate them, we’re also meeting their basic needs and we’re building a better future for our way of life. The funds wouldn’t be thrown around for parties, or fundraising. No, this trust is self-funded by the family in question. And there are ample funds to last for centuries if handled properly.’

‘How many can this help immediately, Solicitor?’ Another voice spoke up.

‘Immediately? Ten students. That accounts for half the starting fund. For every student that doesn’t need assistance, the funds accumulate. Eventually, if properly managed and the one entrusted is bonded to manage the Trust, in 30 years, half the school could be seen to, given current enrollment figures.’

‘Half, you say? That’s a load of rubbish,’ Ewan Purifoy retorted.

‘Rubbish, you say? Since you grew up when being part of a Pureblood family guaranteed your position in society,’ a rumble erupted through the chambers, ‘there are dozens of children starting at Hogwarts who lack a quill or an ink jar. How much return on the investment would we receive to giving those less fortunate children an equal start? How much benefit would Wizarding society receive for these children coming to Hogwarts, not privileged but receiving the tools and supplies they need to prosper? I don’t see you opening your vault, Sir, to afford an opportunity, though you have the means.’

He harrumphed. ‘If the family in question wishes to bankrupt themselves on children who won’t appreciate the generosity of charity, who am I to tell someone how they afford it?’

Hermione bristled. ‘You stood aside when children died. You sneer at as charity is an investment in our way of life’s future. Wasn’t enough magical blood spilt for supposed Pureblood Supremacy? They are our future. You aren’t part of it, Purifoy,’ she pierced him with a hard stare, earning one in return.

A roar erupted.

‘Order,’ Kingsley’s voice boomed. He waited for the room to settle. ‘Motion to proceed on approval of the Fredrick Gideon trust raise their hands.’

Most members raised their hands.

‘Motion to dismiss?’ Two hands went up.

‘Motion is hereby approved. The Fredrick Gideon Trust for Hogwarts students is available as of 8 am tomorrow. Adjourned.’

Immediately Hermione was engulfed by strong arms. “You did it!” Ron spun her around.

“No Love. You did it.” She kissed him.

#Romione FicFest 2020 #Fic Post #Romione #Ron Weasley #Hermione Granger #Dragon's Gift to the RFF community #Submission #Rated K+#Ace Safe #Queue Up for the Dragon

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esausrpmemes · 5 years

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(Originally posted by galacticrpmemes who has since deactivated. Now available again without having to reblog from private users)

ᴅʀᴀɢᴏɴ ᴀɢᴇ ᴏʀɪɢɪɴꜱ ꜱᴇɴᴛᴇɴᴄᴇ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛᴇʀꜱ

change pronouns as needed! cw mature content

“You are called upon to submit yourself to the taint for the greater good.”

“Tis cold in my tent, all alone…”

“We have been given the gift of freedom by our forbearers. Let us not squander it.”

“Surely it has not escaped your notice that I am both armed and armored. Any fight between us would be rather one-sided.”

“Be careful what you wish for. Power is treacherous. I have seen many people–great leaders–consumed by it.”

“Nobility does not exist without obligation. We owe everything we have, even our lives, to our land and people.”

“Must we sacrifice everything good about our nation to save it?”

“There is nothing I would not do for my homeland.”

“Your fascination with glory and legends will be your undoing, _____. We must attend to reality.”

“Please, I have done… so much wrong. Allow me to do one last thing right.”

“That’s what I’m here for. To deliver unpleasant news and witty one-liners.”

“Nothing like a brush with death to make you… not like death much.”

“Just so you know, if the king ever asks me to put on a dress and dance the Remigold, I’m drawing the line.“

“Now that the warm and fuzzy part of the day is over we can get back to the ritual dismemberments. Oh wait, it’s not Tuesday is it?”

“Have you ever licked a lamp post in winter?”

“What? Lead? Me? No, no, no. No leading. Bad things happen when I lead. We get lost, people die, and the next thing you know I’m stranded somewhere without any pants.”

“Watch as I thrash our enemies with the mighty power of floral arrangements!“

“You’re the first woman/man/person I’ve ever spent the night with, and if I have my way you’ll be the last.“

“I love stories far too much to keep them to myself. Everyone should benefit from them, I think.”

“Oh, this looks fun! I bet we’ll have to work together and join hands and sing a happy song to get across!”

“The only way out of this game is to kill or be killed.”

“Change is coming to the world. Many fear change and will fight it with every fiber of their being. But sometimes, change is what they need the most. Sometimes, change is what sets them free.”

“You look upon the world around you and you think you know it well. I have smelled it as a wolf, listened as a cat, prowled shadows that you never dreamed existed.”

“Men are always willing to believe two things about a woman: one, that she is weak, and two, that she finds him attractive.”

“Now we threaten priests? How fun!”

“Some doors should never be re-opened.“

“’Tis a curious thing. I do not know how else to describe it.”

“If you’ve ever heard of me before, it’s probably all been about how I piss ale and murder little boys who look at me wrong. And that’s mostly true…”

“Misery, vomit and malt liquor. Ah, reminds me of home.”

“By the tits of my ancestors!”

“Shave my back and call me en elf!”

“I wish people wanted to share me more often. Especially the ladies. I want more ladies to share me.”

“Aye. I’ve tried twenty-seven different types of ale and learned I’m just the right height to give a human girl a good time. That doesn’t make me a good man.”

“I wonder what it is like to float…or drown.”

“Oooh, Shiny!”

“Now, let us crush something soft and watch it fountain blood. That is a girlish thing to want to do, yes?”

“So? What does it think? I don’t look any wider, do I? I find I am already too wide as it is.“

“Either you have an enviable memory, or a pitiable life, to know nothing of regret.”

“I am a simple creature. I like swords, I follow orders. What else is there to be puzzled by?”

“Happiness is fragile. Nothing can be built upon it that will last. Only duty endures.”

“Where is the cake? I was told there would be cake. The cake is a lie.”

“To be fooled by the world is unfortunate: By oneself, is deadly.”

“The enemy waits. Shall we grant him the death he asks of us?”

“I will not lie motionless in a bed with coverlets up to my chin, waiting for death to claim me.”

“I’m not the sort of person that leaves things unfinished. I’ll see this through, I promise.”

“You’d think one would find a less perilous place to explore.”

“People fear, not death, but having life taken from them. Many waste the life given to them, occupying themselves with things that do not matter. When the end comes, they say they did not have time enough to spend with loved ones, to fulfill dreams, to go on adventures they only talked about… But why should you fear death if you are happy with the life you have led, if you can look back on everything and say, ‘Yes, I am content. It is enough.’”

“Now that we’re in an intimate relationship I think maybe I should tell you where babies come from.”

“Love is ultimately selfish. It demands that one be devoted to a single person, who may fully occupy one’s mind and heart, to the exclusion of all else.”

“Planning has never been my strong suit. Now, killing…killing and love-making. Killing and love-making and witty retorts. Those I am better at.”

“Can you smell that? Like rotting flesh. Just like back in the City. Now if only you could find me a prostitute or two, a bowl of fish chowder and a corrupt politician, I’d really feel like I was home!”

“We all do our share of murdering around here, don’t we?”

“You tend to get up to interesting things. You meet interesting people and then you kill them. I’m game to tag along, if you are.”

“Let’s see… when was the last time I slipped my hand into some dark hole? Hmmm… I remember. Long story, that.”

“In truth, for the chance to be by your side I would storm the Dark City itself. Never doubt it.”

“We need absolute unity to fight against the fulcrum of true evil.”

“Your father made me swear on his deathbed you would not succeed him.”

“Kings, politics…all that is transitory.”

“Good to have you along the road.”

“Something you need? I’m sure either my boy or I can help you out.”

“Are you sure I can’t interest you in this hat? A pair of earrings perhaps? A cheese knife?”

“I hope your compassion hasn’t doomed us all.“

“She’ll put us all in the pot, she will. Just you watch.”

“I am a fly in the ointment. I am a whisper in the shadows. I am also an old, old woman. More than that you need not know.”

“You are required to do nothing, least of all believe. Shut one’s eyes tight or open one’s arms wide, either way, one’s a fool.”

“Be always aware… or is it oblivious? I can never remember.”

“Men’s hearts hold shadows darker than any tainted creature.”

“Weeks of scant food and water, the torture… oh, I’ve never felt better!“

“We should seize moments of levity, especially in troubled times.”

"Ah, I’m sure we’ll be at each other’s throats again in no time.”

“There is no glory in this!”

“I’m not a coward, but this is foolish and reckless. We should go back.”

“They’ll take everything that I am from me– my dreams, hopes, fears… My love for you. All gone…”

“Am I not allowed to have regrets?”

“I have known pain and love, hope and fear, all the joy that is life. Yet of all things I desire nothing more than an end.”

“I prefer to be known as a just and compassionate king. ‘Strong’ too often comes to mean ‘tyrannical’.”

“Maker spit on you… I deserved… more…”

“Well, well. You little spitfire. All grown up and still playing the man.”

“Be firm in your beliefs, protect people from their own ignorance, and be as loyal as you can to your brothers, even knowing that you’ll share their deaths.”

“Nothing you have done has prepared you for what you face now.”

“Oh…you mean, am I married? I…no. No, I’ve never had the pleasure. If I did, I’d be lucky to find a woman as lovely as yourself.”

“My retribution is eternal, spirit, as is my pain. This is justice, no more.”

“You, you seem like a smart sort.“

“I’ve got a job and you’re helping me.”

“Booze an’ adventure sounds about right!“

"Whoa, dizzy for a moment there… how’d I get here?“

"You should learn your place. Meek, subservient, quiet.”

“You’re a light in this dark place.”

“Girl, you are wonderful. Thank you.”

“Take my advice friend: stay away from Storytellers, never know what they’ll say…”

“Some of us don’t match the bard-spy fetish. Like me, pretending I know the lute.”

“We are always in battle. It is only that some of us do not always realize it.”

“Do you ever wish you could have the freedom to piss anywhere you wanted without being stared at?”

“Phew! Am I bleeding? Oh look, a rip in my clothes.”

“I’m not going to die am I!?”

“Why is everything so complicated!?”

“We’re alive!”

“_____, your pet is lecturing me again.”

“As a girl, I broke the fingers of those that poked me needlessly. Just saying.”

“I have a good feeling about this.”

“Come on–no time to waste.”

#meme #rp meme #Dragon Age meme #sentence starters #rp prompts

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phantom-le6 · 3 years

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Episode Reviews - Star Trek The Next Generation Season 1 (3 of 6)

As we draw close to crossing the first month of 2021 off the calendar to make room for February, which in my view is only of use for Pancake Day and nothing more, I’m back with yet more reviews from the first season of Star Trek: TNG. Will these episodes prove any better than those of the first two rounds, or are we looking at more lemons with warp engines? Let’s find out…

Episode 10: Hide and Q

Plot (as adapted from Wikipedia):

The Enterprise is en route to Quadra Sigma to aid colonists caught in a methane explosion when Q re-appears and demands that they abandon their mission to compete in a game. He teleports Commander Riker and the bridge crew, with the exception of Captain Picard, to a barren landscape and appears in front of them wearing a uniform of a Napoleonic era French marshal. He explains the rule of the game is to stay alive, and after Lt. Yar refuses to compete, he transports her back to the bridge of the Enterprise in a "penalty box".

Q returns to the bridge too, to talk Picard into setting a wager. He explains that the Q Continuum is testing Commander Riker to see if he is worthy of being granted their powers. Picard, having the utmost faith in his First Officer, takes the bet, as winning it would mean Q would get off their backs. Meanwhile, Riker and his team are attacked by what Lt. Worf reports as "vicious animal things" wearing French soldier uniforms from the Napoleonic era and armed with muskets that fire energy bolts instead of the classic projectiles. Q returns to Riker and tells him that he has granted him the powers of the Continuum, and Riker promptly returns his crew mates to the ship but remains behind with Q to ultimately reject the powers. Q brings the crew back to the landscape, this time without their phasers and with Picard. The crew are attacked once more by the aliens, and both Worf and Wesley Crusher are killed. Riker uses the powers of the Q to return the crew again and bring both Worf and Wesley back to life.

Riker makes a promise to Picard never to use the powers again and the ship arrives at Quadra Sigma. A rescue team beams down and discovers a young girl who has died. Riker is tempted to save her, but in the end, he refuses to do so out of respect for his promise. However, he quickly shows signs of regret at this decision, which he expresses to the captain. Tension between Picard and his first officer grows as Riker now seems to be embracing his powers, and his behaviour toward the crew begins to change. At Q's suggestion, and with Picard's blessing, Riker uses his powers to give his friends what he believes they want, turning Wesley into an adult, giving La Forge normal sight in place of his visor, and creating a Klingon female companion for Worf. All the recipients reject their gifts, however, with Data even anticipating and declining Riker's attempt to make him human. Picard declares that Q has failed, and when Q attempts to go back on his word, he is forcibly recalled to the Continuum. Picard is pleased to see Q gone, and praises Riker for confirming his trust in his "Number One".

Review:

There are two main reasons to enjoy this episode; Q and Picard. This is the first time since the pilot that we’ve seen Q and Picard interact, and it’s much better this time because both the actors are a bit more at grips with their characters. The scene in the Captain’s ready room between the pair where they both quote Shakespeare is one of the real highlights of the first season, a veritable miniature diamond in a season-long run of rough. In some respects, it’s almost a pity Picard-Q meet-ups aren’t more frequent, but ultimately, I think that they have to be done as little as possible to retain some impact in the later seasons.

Unfortunately, the episode lacks sufficient subtlety in trying to convey a story about power corrupting. The key reason why the Dark Phoenix story in the X-Men comics is a classic that no adaptation has ever effectively captured is because it involves Jean Grey being corrupted by power slowly, inch by inch, until circumstances push her over the edge. When the Primarch Horus is turned to Chaos in the Horus Heresy novels that form part of Warhammer 40,000 lore, it’s not an overnight transformation from the noble being he was to the power-mad tyrant laying waste to Terra years later. It’s a slow, gradual seduction by power, and a single episode of any TV show doesn’t give that.

As a result, the idea of Riker’s shift in character and attitude seems too rapid and falls flat. The only thing that doesn’t fall flat is how the rest of the cast reacts when Riker tries to act with benevolence. It’s a testament to each of them how they resist being granted their supposedly fondest wishes. I especially applaud Geordi and the autistic-like Data for their choices. I never like stories that try to push the idea that characters who are somehow differently abled, either blatantly or through the metaphor of a genre-specific concept, should always want to eliminate that difference. Maybe Geordi can’t see like everyone else, but considering all the different things he can see with his visor, it’s not like the vision he has is any better or worse. It’s just a pity his reason for saying no was more about not liking a Q-style Riker than about accepting himself and all the goodness inherent in that.

Add in Troi not being around at a time when her character could be very annoying without much effort, and you’ve got an episode that has many saving graces propping up a poor execution of a decent core concept. End score for this one, probably 7 out of 10.

Episode 11: Haven

Plot (as adapted from Wikipedia):

The Enterprise arrives at the planet Haven, where the ship's half-Betazoid Counsellor Deanna Troi has been summoned by her mother Lwaxana. Deanna had previously been set into an arranged marriage to the young human doctor, Wyatt Miller, and his parents have since tracked down Lwaxana to enforce the marriage. After Lwaxana and the Millers are welcomed aboard the Enterprise, the parents argue over whose cultural traditions will be honoured at the ceremony. Deanna and Wyatt attempt to get to know each other but find it difficult, as Deanna is still in love with Commander William Riker. Wyatt has had numerous dreams of another woman with whom he has fallen in love, and had initially believed her to be Deanna communicating telepathically with him.

The Enterprise then learns of an unmarked vessel approaching Haven. Captain Picard recognizes it as Tarellian, a race they thought to have been wiped out by a highly lethal and contagious virus. When they contact the ship, they find a handful of Tarellian refugees who have been travelling at sub-light speeds to Haven in hopes of finding an isolated location to live out the rest of their lives in peace. Picard insists that they cannot go to the planet for fear of spreading the virus, and has the Tarellian vessel placed in a tractor beam. Wyatt discovers that one of the Tarellians, Ariana, is the woman from his dreams, and she too recognizes Wyatt. Wyatt tells Dr Crusher that he will transport some medical supplies to them, but transports himself along with the supplies. When the crew discovers this, Wyatt's parents demand that Picard bring Wyatt back to the Enterprise, but Denna insists that he cannot return, as Wyatt would now carry the Tarellian virus. Wyatt promises his parents, Deanna, and the rest of the crew that he knew that this would be his destiny, and is happy to try to help cure the Tarellian virus. Wyatt convinces the Tarellians to leave Haven and search for help elsewhere. Picard orders the tractor beam to be dropped and allows the vessel to depart the system.

Review:

When it comes to Majel Barrett in the era of the TNG-DS9-Voyager shows, her best work as a guest star is her voice work as the voice of any given Starfleet computer. Her worst work is when she’s guest-starring as Deanna Troi’s mother. Her whole character is the very definition of nails on a chalk board, and it’s very rare if ever that an episode featuring her can be anything good. That said, her presence does help to improve Deanna’s character just because it means Deanna’s suddenly no longer the most likely to irk you with her characterisation. Basically, anytime Deanna’s on the screen at this early stage in the show, all I can think is “please don’t have her go all over-sensitive like she did in the pilot.”

Leaving the Troi family aside, the episode isn’t much to get excited about. Just a run-of-the-mill b-plot about a plague ship that interconnects with the main plot nicely to save us from the Trek equivalent of a shotgun wedding. Frankly, I’d have preferred it if they’d done a plot exploring the arranged marriage idea and casting it down as the terrible idea it is, but then I suppose it wouldn’t be politic to do that with a culture that is part-and-parcel of the Federation instead of being the guest-race-of-the-week. I’d give this one about 3 out of 10.

Episode 12: The Big Goodbye

Plot (as adapted from Wikipedia):

The Enterprise heads to Torona IV to open negotiations with the Jarada, an insect-like race that are unusually strict in matters of protocol. After practicing the complex greeting the Jarada require to open negotiations, Captain Jean-Luc Picard decides to relax with a Dixon Hill story in the holodeck. Playing Detective Hill in the holo-program, Picard takes up the case of Jessica Bradley, who believes that Cyrus Redblock is trying to kill her. Picard decides to continue the program later and leaves the holodeck to affirm their estimated arrival at Torona IV. He invites Dr Beverly Crusher and historian crewmember Whalen to join him in the holodeck. While Crusher is still preparing, Picard and Whalen are ready to enter the holodeck when Lt. Commander Data arrives, having overheard Picard's invitation. Entering the holodeck, the three discover that Jessica has been murdered in Picard's absence. As Picard explains that he saw Jessica at his office the day before, Lt. Bell brings Picard into the police station for questioning as a suspect in her murder. Meanwhile, the Enterprise is scanned from a distance by the Jarada, causing a power surge in the holodeck external controls. Dr Crusher later enters the holodeck, first experiencing a momentary glitch with the holodeck doors, and joins her friends at the police station.

The Jarada demand their greeting earlier than the agreed time and are insulted at having to talk to anyone other than the Captain. The crew tries to communicate with Picard in the holodeck but finds it impossible; the Jarada signal has affected the holodeck's functions, preventing the doors from opening or allowing communication with the crew inside. Lt. Geordi La Forge and Wesley Crusher attempt to repair the holodeck systems. While inside the holodeck, the group returns to Dixon's office. Mr. Leech appears, having waited for Picard, demanding he turn over an object he believes Jessica gave him. When Picard fails to understand, Leech shoots Dr. Whalen with a gun, and the crew discovers that the safety protocols have been disabled, as Whalen is severely wounded. As Dr Crusher cares for his wound, Picard and Data discover that the holodeck is malfunctioning, and they are unable to exit the program. Mr. Leech is joined by Redblock, who continues to demand the object. Lt. McNary arrives and becomes involved in the standoff. Picard tries to explain the nature of the holodeck, but Redblock refuses to believe him.

Outside, Wesley finds the glitch; however, he cannot simply turn off the system for fear of losing everyone inside. Instead, Wesley resets the simulation, briefly placing Picard and the others in the middle of a snowstorm before finding themselves back in Dixon's office. With the reset successfully clearing the malfunction, the exit doors finally appear. Despite Picard's warnings, Redblock and Leech exit the holodeck, but dissipate as they move beyond the range of its holo-emitters. As they leave the holodeck, Picard thanks McNary, who now suspects that his world is artificial and asks whether Picard's departure is "the big goodbye", to which Picard replies that he simply doesn't know. Picard reaches the bridge in time to give the proper greeting to the Jarada. The Jarada accept the greeting, heralding the start of successful negotiations.

Review:

The Big Goodbye has a special place in the era of holodeck era of Trek as the first example of a “holodeck-gone-wrong” episode. Later episodes of this series and the spin-off shows Deep Space Nine and Voyager would return to the premise of holodeck malfunctions time and again as either minor or major plot points. Unfortunately, the holodeck is already going wrong as a plot device in the show just from a technical realisation standpoint.

The basic idea of the holodeck is that it creates 3D images that resemble whatever is programmed into the computer, with some kind of force-fields giving the images substance while other aspects of the technology fill in the proverbial blanks (e.g. special programming to create interactive characters, localised environmental controls, etc.) However, everything that exists within the holodeck can only exist within the range of the room’s tech; if anything created by the holodeck moves beyond its walls, it should instantly cease to be. However, in the Farpoint pilot, Wesley Crusher fell into water on the holodeck, and when he walked out into the corridor, he remained wet and dripping when all the holographic water should have disappeared the instance he walked through the exit.

Likewise, in this episode Picard picks up a lipstick mark when he first tries the holodeck’s new upgrades, and that should have disappeared when he later briefs the crew in the observation lounge. Instead, Dr Crusher has to wipe the lipstick off for the captain, despite the fact it should have disappeared from Picard’s face long ago. It’s an annoying issue, and one that could have been easily fixed even back in the 1980’s when this show was made; evidently, this was just another example of how bad the show was at this stage. If TNG ever gets the kind of reboot the original series did, I sincerely hope any use of the holodecks pays attention to and rectifies this error in the application of the holodeck concept.

Otherwise, this episode doesn’t do much more than give Brent Spiner a bit more to do with Data by having him impersonate a 40’s-style gangers and give Patrick Stewart someone else to be besides the captain of the latest version of the Enterprise. It’s a fairly well-made episode for season 1 of this show, and it really sells the illusion of the holodeck program for the most part. The people who made the show just needed to learn that anything that gets made in the holodeck stays in the holodeck. I’d give it about 5 out of 10.

Episode 13: Datalore

Plot (as adapted from Wikipedia):

While on the way to Starbase Armus IX for computer maintenance, the Enterprise arrives at the planet Omicron Theta, the site of a vanished colony where the starship Tripoli originally found the android Data. An away team travels to the surface and finds that what had been farmland is now barren with no trace of life in the soil. The team also finds a lab which they discover is where Dr. Noonien Soong, a formerly prominent but now discredited robotics designer, built Data. The team also find a disassembled android nearly identical to Data and return with it to the ship. As the course to the Starbase is resumed, the crew reassemble and reactivate Data's "brother" in sickbay. He refers to himself as Lore, and explains that Data was built first and he himself is the more perfect model. He feigns naiveté to the crew, but shows signs of being more intelligent than he is letting on. Later, in private, he tells Data that they were actually created in the opposite order, as the colonists became envious of his own perfection. He also explains that a crystalline space entity capable of stripping away all life force from a world was responsible for the colony's demise.

Lore then incapacitates Data, revealing that he plans to offer the ship's crew to the entity. When a signal transmission is detected from Data's quarters, Wesley Crusher arrives to investigate. He finds Lore, now impersonating Data, who explains that he had to incapacitate his brother after being attacked. Wesley is doubtful, but pretends to accept the explanation. Soon after, the same crystalline entity that had attacked the colony approaches the ship. Lore, still pretending to be Data, enters the bridge as the object hovers before the Enterprise and explains that he incapacitated his brother by turning him off, causing Doctor Beverly Crusher to be suspicious, since Data had previously treated the existence of such a feature as a closely guarded secret. Lore then explains that he can communicate with the crystalline entity and suggests to Captain Jean-Luc Picard that he should show a demonstration of force by beaming an object toward the entity and then destroying it with the ship's phasers.

Lore's attempts to imitate Data are imperfect, though initially only Wesley is suspicious, and his efforts to voice these concerns only draw rude rebukes from Picard and his mother. However, Picard does ultimately become suspicious, especially when Lore does not recognize Picard's usual command to "make it so". Although Picard sends a security detachment to tail him, Lore overpowers Lt. Worf and evades pursuit. Meanwhile, the suspicious Dr Crusher and Wesley reactivate the unconscious Data, and the three of them race to the cargo hold to find Lore plotting with the entity to defeat the Enterprise. When Lore discovers them, he threatens Wesley with a phaser and orders Dr Crusher to leave. Data quickly rushes Lore and a brawl ensues. Data manages to knock Lore onto the transporter platform, and Wesley activates it, beaming Lore into space. With its conspirator no longer aboard, the crystalline entity departs, and the Enterprise resumes its journey to the starbase.

Review:

This episode very heavily relies on answering the mystery of Data’s origin and giving him a villainous brother in a manner similar to the Thor-Loki dynamic of Marvel superhero lore (pardon the inadvertent pun) to make it worth watching, because goodness knows it falls down everywhere else. Spiner is remarkable playing the treacherous Lore alongside his regular character of Data, and it’s fun to see him make the best of what ultimately becomes a poor episode on other fronts.

I know some reviewers have stated they don’t understand Lore’s motives for allying with the Crystalline Entity, but as a Marvel fan, it’s actually fairly easy to deduce. Much like Loki in Marvel’s Thor franchise, Lore is a bit of a trickster, an android Q but without the pseudo-godhood or ultimately benign motives of Q. Also like Loki, Lore is the unfavoured son, one who was basically cast aside in favour of something supposedly better, so he’s turned against the humanity his brother admires and emulates out of jealousy and the pain of rejection. It’s not a hard motive to grasp, but with Lore not explicitly saying it, you need that knowledge of another fictional reference to make the deduction. Given that Marvel lore was largely overlooked by the adult world until superheroes were made into a legitimate cinematic genre at the turn of the century, it’s unlikely many original reviewers would have made the link.

However, as I’ve noted, the episode falls apart in other respects. The crew’s haste to reassemble Data’s brother mid-flight is very risky behaviour more akin to the cowboy antics of Kirk’s crew from the original series than Picard’s more measured approach, and they are remarkably stupid in failing to catch onto Lore’s threat. Only Wesley shows the requisite insight and intelligence, but expresses it poorly because at this time no one on the show could write Wesley with any kind of competence. As a result, Picard ends up looking like a total git for his outburst at Wesley, Wesley’s mother comes off almost as bad, and when it turns out that, as ever, Wesley was right, there’s no apology from Picard at all. On balance, this episode rates about 5 out of 10, which can be taken as the anti-Wesley acting having a severely detrimental impact on a great Spiner performance, or a great Spiner performance saving the episode by some horrid Wesley-bashing.

Episode 14: Angel One

Plot (as adapted from Wikipedia):

The Enterprise arrives at the planet Angel One, which is ruled by an oligarchy of women. The ship is looking for survivors from the shipwrecked freighter Odin, over seven years after having been evacuated. The freighter was missing three escape pods and the only planet in range was Angel One. An away team consisting of Commander William Riker, Lt. Commander Data, Lt. Tasha Yar, and Counsellor Deanna Troi beam down to the surface. They attempt to negotiate with Mistress Beata, the "Elected One" of the native inhabitants, to let them search for the survivors. Time is of the essence however, as the Enterprise must travel to a Federation outpost near the Romulan Neutral Zone (where a group of Romulan Battlecruisers has been detected) as soon as they resolve their investigation into the Odin survivors.

Beata reveals that they are aware of four male survivors of the Odin who have caused disruption in their society, and are considered fugitives. Beata requests Riker stay with her (and later requests that he order Troi, Data, and Yar to track down the survivors' camp and their leader Ramsey, while staying and dining with her). After some back and forth, Data concludes Ramsey and the survivors of the Odin would have platinum with them, and Angel One is naturally devoid of platinum, allowing the Enterprise to easily detect them. Meanwhile, Riker dresses in the garb given to him for his dinner with Beata, Troi and Yar tease him for dressing in clothes that sexualize him and, in some ways, demean him. He responds by saying he is honouring the local customs, and acknowledges Beata's beauty, and that the garb is rather comfortable.

The Enterprise searches while in orbit around Angel One. Doctor Beverly Crusher relieves Captain Jean-Luc Picard of duty after he and most of the crew have fallen ill to a random virus on board. The Captain leaves Lieutenant Geordi La Forge in command (Geordi's first time in acting command of a starship). Shortly after, they find Ramsey and transmit his location to the Away Team, who beam directly to there.

When confronted by Data, Yar, and Troi, Ramsey and his men, having taken wives and started families during the seven years, refuse to leave. Data points out that as the Odin was not a star fleet vessel, its crew is not bound by the Prime Directive and the Enterprise cannot remove them against their will. Geordi informs Yar of the medical situation on board, and that more Romulan ships have been detected near the Neutral Zone. Riker gets close to Beata as they compare how gender roles differ between Angel One and the Federation. On the Enterprise, systems are becoming harder to maintain with more crew succumbing to the virus. Geordi (after a friendly reminder from a sniffling Worf) remembers that in command, he must delegate tasks so he can stay on the bridge. Dr Crusher finds that the virus is an airborne organism that produces a sweet smell, to encourage inhalation, after which it becomes viral inside the body.

Riker gets up to date with the situation, and decides that while Ramsey and his group are at large and refusing to leave the planet, there is little they can do. Before leaving they find that one of Beata's fellow mitstresses, Ariel, has married Ramsey, and was followed by Beata's guards to their camp, where they arrested the survivors and their families. The Away Team attempt to explain to Beata the reason for Ramsey's refusal to leave. Beata and her council reject his reasoning, and threatens to execute them the following day. After failing to convince Ramsey and his group to leave with them, Riker contacts the Enterprise in hopes of transporting Ramsey and his group without their consent (despite it being a violation of the Prime Directive, and almost certainly an end to his career). However, Dr Crusher (while treating an incapacitated Geordi in the Captain's chair) refuses to allow anyone to beam aboard for fear of them being infected, but allows Data, an android, to return. Riker orders Data to take command and get the Enterprise to the Neutral Zone before it's too late.

The following morning the Away Team is invited to witness the execution of Ramsey and his followers. Moments after Riker rejects their invitation Data makes contact and informs them that there is a 48-minute window in which Dr Crusher has to find a cure, and Riker must defuse the situation on the planet before the ship must leave for the Neutral Zone. On the planet, Ramsey and his men are prepared to be executed by disintegration despite Ariel's pleas, while Dr Crusher discovers a cure for the virus. Riker is prepared to have the away team and the Odin survivors beamed to the Enterprise, but makes a plea that execution will do Angel One’s society little good. He contends that Ramsey and his men have simply become a symbol for pre-existing dissatisfaction with the current society on Angel One, an evolutionary change that execution may only accelerate by turning Ramsey’s group into martyrs.

After deliberating with her fellow mistresses, Beata announces that she will stay the execution and banish Ramsey, his men, their families, and any others that support them to the far side of the planet. She explains that their banishment will not stop the fall of the oligarchy, but will slow it down enough that Beata will not be around to see its end. The away team return to the ship and Picard, already recovering from the virus but hardly having a voice, orders the ship to the Neutral Zone at high warp.

Review:

Apparently, the idea of this episode was look at South Africa’s apartheid system, but using a gender-based schism in a female-dominated society to explore the concept along gender lines rather than being more direct and using anything akin to a racial divide. As a result, the intention is lost behind some very horrendously sexist rubbish that makes the show seem more like a bad parody of feminism. The episode also has a lousy b-plot of a virus story that adds nothing to the episode, and again showcases how badly the holodeck concept was being handled at this time. A snowball from a holodeck skiing program should not be able to go through the holodeck doors to hit Picard and Worf in the corridor. 2 out of 10 is all this episode deserves.

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