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#he does not have a special bloodline he was artificially made he did not have a good grasp of jujutsu he had no ct in the beginning
justsomerandomplanet · 4 months
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[ jjk 261 spoilers ]
just rambling thoughts about the chapter now that ive Actually read it (thank u tcb and also i wish ppl who post about leaks without tags a very can you Stop and tag thanks)
tldr; i dont hate the chapter, its an interesting one! feel free to discuss with me if u would like
I don't actually hate the chapter conceptually
Ideologically, Uraume has brought up the topic of being human and the fact to be strong/to defeat sukuna you must disregard that obsession of loneliness/humanity. I also think at the end of the day, it speaks a lot about how jujutsu society functions (in that it uses people regardless of respecting them as people, i.e. the star plasma vessels, children as sorcerers facing death constantly, etcetc).
Nevertheless, I do wonder why Yuta had to do it. At the end of the day I still believe Yuji will be the one to defeat Sukuna, you cannot tell me all that build up to him is for Nothing, but what point is there in bringing Yuta in that case? If he just does more damage and then dies (lol), like. What is there to it. Like in the perspective of the characters i get it, they don't know if they'll win or lose and they're gonna have to use every option they have, but simply on a readers perspective, it feels a bit redundant. I just feel there should be a way to incorporate this idea without it feeling like we'll get gojo v sukuna 2.0. Idk i just want yuji to beat sukuna like that first page was so cool :(!!!!
Anyway, the idea of bringing back Gojo similar to how "Toji" was revived in shibuya is also unbelievable bc Gojo himself is shown to still want to protect the kids. His ideology derives from making sure They Are Alive And Changing The System. Yes, I get it he is battle obsessed too (see the shinjuku battle) but it doesn't change he went out of his way to tell them not to look/follow him for what he's about to do with the higher ups. Theory wise, gojo being brought back like this is dull (but plausible i suppose) (also thinking about it would that Really be gojo? We saw that toji still didnt come back normal, and wasnt it stated that the toji that did come back was more of just the memories of the body rather than the person himself? Idk. Anyway)
Additionally, Yuta, altho caring for Gojo, is still falling back to the mentality that made Gojo alone (the "Strongest" vs Gojo Satoru). Yuta himself wanting to sacrifice his humanity so everything Gojo did wouldn't be moot while still using his body, which inherently disrespects him as a person, is a hyprocritical and flawed way of thinking that makes him interesting for me now lmao. He cares for him a lot, but he has to resort to it as a means to an end. Also I don't care if he dies, in fact the idea of him living while still in gojo is just weird tbh so i really dont see a way put of that? Im kinda just interested to see what happens tbh
I'll be real; I can see both points in how ppl think this is a cool chapter vs ppl thinking it sucks. It is surprising how very Neutral I am on this bc I personally feel like the explanations given made sense to me in the chapter.
I don't think this took away from Yuta's character, nor did it take away from what we've seen before; Yuta is not Yuuji. Yuta has shown that he can kill people. He only sparred Uro and Ryu bc of the rule to be able to transfer points. He admits that he "cheated" in the past month. Yuta is very aware of what decisions are wrong but still does them bc its for the best outcome, even if it means losing his own humanity. Yuta wants the best for Gojo but still looks at it in a flawed way. Yuta is unknowingly falling into Sukuna's/Uraume's ideology.
Yuuji is the only one so far in the series that continues to be filled with regret from killing and still wants to do better. He is forced to dissociate his self-identity to cope with his actions. He has said he would eat anything to defeat Sukuna, effectively throwing his humanity, but does not do so at the expense of other ppl (see Yuji's conversation with Higuruma before shinjuku). Yuji looked past Gojo's infinity so he could give encouragement, even tho everyone else was afraid. Yuji is the antithesis to Sukuna's view of the world
Yuta is not Yuji, and I think that's the point.
I don't think one is better than the other, I simply find this contrast to be interesting when u look at it in the grander theme of change and tradition within jujutsu society.
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sunstriderling · 6 years
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The princess and the hitman Au for Gency? Or maybe just a fluff of Genji confessing to Angela ^^
+ @nappi​‘s request for sick!Angela & caring!Genji. :> Writing this took 7 000 years but to be honest I’ve been really sick myself for three weeks straight and my brain’s ability to put together coherent sentences was non-existent, so, uh, here we are.
( AO3 )
It’s late, well past ten in the evening - after a mission, most of them would be in bed at this hour. Yet here they are, both her and Genji, in the medical bay; the cyborg busying himself with the drink dispenser, the day’s newspaper, and a blanket-covered chair as if he’s set to move in, and Angela, well, cross-legged on the elevated hospital bed with multiple plush pillows piled behind her back. It’s uncomfortable. Unbelievable, really; it’s as if she’s forgotten completely what it feels like to be ill. All these years she’s tended the sick and the wounded and truly, she’s seen it all, but a mere cold, at worst a flu, something so ordinary and mundane and, most of all, survivable, now feels to her like she’s dying.
How long has it been? Fifteen years?
The puncture wound in her lower back aches like a gunshot wound, only so much smaller, like the infected bite of a mosquito or a horse-fly. It throbs with her fever-stricken everything, a drumming inside her brain and bones, an ache in her muscles, and she sniffs idly with glassed-over eyes, finding the whole situation… ironic, almost amusing. No, whatever was in that dart wasn’t poisonous. It did nothing but stunt her body’s artificially improved regeneration rates, her boosted immunity system, perhaps in the hopes that she’d get shot or just break a bone, leaving her vulnerable or, in the best case scenario for Talon, dead. What she’d actually become was just… sick, like her stellar immunity collapsing on her meant nothing to the lurking germs sticking to her but the open opportunity they’d waited for for a good half of her lifespan. Suddenly, it was as if her basic, unmodified biology no longer knew how to handle a simple virus.
This was a flaw in the design of the regenerative design she’d previously regarded as a succesful experiment. She’d realised it the first thing after noticing the aches in her joints, the thickness in her throat, and the slowly growing soreness everywhere. She’d have to fix that, this sudden immunity collapse syndrome, at once when she wouldn’t be shaking madly with the sickness anymore. When her brain worked again. When something worked again.
Everyone had been quite concerned. They couldn’t recall ever seeing her sick and even though surely they had, they may have not noticed it; sickness had never stopped her from working, she’d just chosen projects that didn’t risk her patients on those days, or her colleagues. Sickness made her antisocial, brought her mind back to the workings of her own body, what it was going through, and how she could turn this intimate knowledge of the process of the illness in her and the stages her body took towards recovery into the building bricks of medical science. Even now, that was where her mind had been, and perhaps it was that fact that had calmed the team down in the end. They’d all gone to bed, hadn’t they? She’d told them she’d be fine self-medicating and sleeping the fever off in the medical bay, and they’d told her they’d see her in the morning, wished her a swift recovery, and disappeared into their little holes inside the Watchpoint like a strike team of exhausted foxes.
Everyone except Genji.
He’s got tan lines over his cheeks and forehead, Angela notes as he sits on the side of her bed, offering her a steaming cup of hot chocolate from the dispenser. It’s summertime, and after settling in, after growing comfortable with his companions once more, he’s spent quite some time outdoors with his visor off. She wonders if sunlight still hurts his modified eyes; she didn’t quite know how to fix that after the repairs, after the improvements. She simply told him to get used to it.
Retrospectively, she always felt guilty about that, yet - he doesn’t seem to squint as much anymore, if at all.
“I am afraid it is not Swiss. I keep disappointing,” Genji says with a hint of a grin.
She chuckles, rolls her eyes and lets out a gentle cough that masks the desperate pressure in her throat demanding a much bigger, much sharper relief. She’s not holding it back for him as much as for her own body’s sake; she’ll cough hard when it helps some, but for now, the only thing it does is bruise her from the inside out.
“Silly. I wouldn’t be able to taste it, even if it was Swiss - my body will hardly know the difference,” Angela huffs in response, bringing the cup to her lips and taking the smallest sip to try how hot the drink is.
Quite.
Genji chuckles.“Are you telling me that there are no magical healing qualities to Swiss chocolate, Angela? For all the praise you’ve had for it…”
“I am telling you that, yes.”She thinks it over for a moment before taking another sip and placing the mug between her crossed legs, over the baby blue blanket thrown over her.“You do know that I will do just fine on my own, Genji. Go to bed.”
“No,” Genji replies casually, picking up his own blanket; it’s fuzzier, and sand brown; “I’ll stay here. I know you would do just fine on your own, Angela, but it is a special kind of loneliness, being alone when you are feeling under the weather. So I will be here and accompany you, so you can focus on getting better. It is what a friend would do, is it not?”
She smiles. Then, slowly, she nods.“I had forgotten all about that. I never let myself have it; my career left no time for sick leaves, and it left very little time for friendship, too. So I worked while I was ill and… the kindness you’re showing me is like remembering something from childhood. All those nights as a little girl, with my mother or my father bringing me cold medicine or soup to eat.”
It takes her a moment to get back to the present day, but when she does, she sees Genji tilting his head with a gentle expression on his face.“Tell me more,” he prompts her, “I have never heard you speak of your childhood.”
A quiet chuckle escapes her and she shakes her head, lowering her gaze to her steaming drink on her lap. She waits for some time, perhaps for her mind to start working again, to form a thought one way or the other, but it seems - feels - as if there’s some technical issue with her functions, the whole of her mind reduced to a blank state of white noise. Finally, she brings the mug up to her lips again, shaking a little at the contrast of the hot drink touching her otherwise so cold-feeling body.
“There is not much to tell, Genji. Or - perhaps there is, but it all seems quite mundane and so distant that I wouldn’t know what to talk about. Surely you have similar experiences. Surely nothing I had was that special. I had a mother and a father once, and I was small, and I was cared for and sometimes I was sick, and my mother would sit by my bed singing me lullabies, my father would read me lighthearted poetry from children’s books, and I - would fall asleep and have nightmares. I had a lot of nightmares as a child, from fevers, I remember that being the worst part of being ill. Strange dreams, that you wouldn’t think were scary; objects from the real world beginning to spin around the room, levitating. Impossible things. My blankets and bed turning to thorns. Those dreams scared me then, but I grew out of them.”
She lifts her gaze and examines him.
“What about you? Would you share some memories from your past with me, too?”
Genji’s eyes narrow, but the lingering smile on him is both thoughtful and a little bit amused, as if she’s challenged him.
“When I was a child,” he begins then, “being sick was the only time when my brother would stop pushing me around. Literally. I was our father’s favourite as a young boy - he gave me much of the attention he would not give to my brother, who had to be raised tough for the future of our bloodline, you see. So maybe I was raised like a little girl, too. I did not care for poetry, however. I remember playing video games and being bored out of my mind through illnesses, my body going through phases of fever chills and floods of sweating… Funny, I have not recalled these things in a long time. I have not had to.”
He eyes her, and a small chuckle escapes him as well.
“I suppose that is on you, Doctor Ziegler?”
Angela nods slowly.“Your body’s regenerative abilities -”
“I understand.”
They’re silent for some time, and Angela leans her sore back into the pillows, rests her head and breathes deep, as deep as her itchy lungs allow her from the spasms in her chest threatening her with coughing fits. No, not yet, she tells her body and relaxes; all of that will come soon enough.
“I quite missed your company,” Genji tells her then, his voice softer, quieter now, as if he’s either not quite sure how to approach this subject, or if he’s not sure if she’s asleep and doesn’t want to wake her up.
She peers at him lazily through a partially opened eye, then closes it again, nodding. The nod compresses her throat and she coughs unwillingly, but it passes quickly, letting her relax again.
“It seems strange, all those years we exchanged letters and yet I feel as if I am just now meeting you for the first time,” the cyborg continues.
“It is all quite different since we last met, face to face,” she mumbles, cheekbones burning with fever and most her attention directed towards the fact, “Much has changed; we are older, but we are also very different people. You are no longer lost, and I am no longer an overgrown child.”
“Was I lost when we last met? Were you an overgrown child?” Genji asks her, his voice amused.
“Would you contest either of those claims?” she asks him back.
He thinks for a moment.“No,” he says then; “With confidence, I can say that I was lost. And perhaps I saw you differently then, but now that I have met you once more, you are indeed a woman. I am not quite sure I saw you that way before. You were my doctor, but you were very young, and you seemed out of your comfort zone, even when you were the most experienced person in the room, doing what only you could do.”
“Precisely. I have grown since, Genji. Not quite like you have, and yet, if I could meet my younger self from those days, I would have much advice to give that silly girl.”
They look at each other, and there’s warmth in Genji’s eyes, acceptance, and somehow, Angela realises she needed to see that. She smiles at him before reaching for her hot chocolate again.
“Back then it seemed absurd that there is merely a year or so between us,” she says then; “in my eyes you seemed - immature. Boyish, as if you were stuck in the worst of your teenage years. And I was not done growing up myself. I quite never gave myself the chance to experience youth, and I suppose that made me young for a very long time in the developmental sense. I thought I could bypass the nonsense that other teenagers got caught up in, so that when I turned 20, then 25, all that unspoken rebellion and most of all the confusion and insecurity that I’d never worked through was still there. Yet I still thought of myself above you, because my way of carrying myself was so controlled, so pretentiously mature, and you were caught up in your unpredictable moods like you had no skills in fighting them. Trauma does that to people, and yet I allowed myself to think that this was simply who you were. A silly boy, to project away the truth that I was also a silly girl inside. I hope my words don’t offend you.”
Genji shakes his head.“No. If you’d spoken them to me then, I would have become very angry, but I see the truth in what you say today. I was very lost and I was very afraid, Angela. Perhaps I took much of that out on you.”
“You were angry at me very often.”
“You were safe to be angry at. And you had that annoying professional smile every time that just made me more frustrated. I hated that smile, the way it implied that you pitied me, the way it highlighted how unstable I was, how it made me aware of my behaviour. I hated it, and I knew that you wouldn’t leave me if I showed just how much.”
She nods.“You are not angry anymore,” she says.
“And you don’t give me that professional smile either,” Genji tells her, his eyes twinkling.
She laughs, a careless act that leads to another cough. When she recovers, she nods again, barely noticing the man’s fingers touching her arm with concern and affection. 
“Trust me,” she says to him, “I am even more capable of giving that look today than I was back then; that pained look covering up my frustration with a difficult patient. I give that same smile to my male colleagues who think they can outperform me by the grace of their XY chromosomes as well. I have practiced it, Genji, and I have practiced it long and hard.”
He lifts his brows, looking playful.“Which must mean that I do not frustrate you anymore. Am I wrong?”
“You are quite correct. In fact, I find myself quite fond of your company. I was nervous to meet you again after all these years; what if we wouldn’t have the kind of a - how would I describe it? That kind of a connection that was so apparent to me through our letters. I waited for them so eagerly each time, but the thought of seeing you in person after being separated for such a long time…”
“The fear that the person you were in writing would not be the person you were in flesh, I understand. I felt that too. I had butterflies in my stomach when I landed here, in fact, and the worst of them I felt when I had to shake your hand.”
Her smile softens, turns quite strangely gentle. She feels it linger on her lips even when she runs out of words, as if he’s said everything there is to say.
“Angela,” he begins then, if only to prove her wrong; “I have a confession to make.”
“And what would that be?” she asks him, sipping her drink with her eyes never leaving his.
He seems more confident now, but there’s a tension in his act of relaxedness, a relapse to that nervous tension he described before.
“There is another reason I was so nervous to meet you once more. It is a long story but I think the sum of it is very short indeed. Would you mind if I spoke it now, or would you rather sleep off the fever, and talk with me once you are in a clearer state of mind?”
Angela squints at him, then shakes her head.“My mind is quite functional. I would not work with it, but when it comes to mere interaction, I am not that far gone quite yet.”
He smiles at her, but his smile shivers and shrinks fast, and he seems to second-guess his intentions before regaining confidence.
“That boy you knew years ago, Angela, grew quite fond of you. He would always wish that perhaps we would have a chance to meet again under different circumstances, when he wasn’t quite so angry, and when you wouldn’t see him as that bed-bound project that he felt like then. After all, you were a girl, and he was a boy, and you spent much time together outside the professional framework. He enjoyed those times and when he left this place, those were the times he regretted losing the most.”
Her breath hitches a little, matching the inconvenient pause between her heartbeats, but she says nothing; the cold that grows in her fingertips, her toes and the tip of her nose has nothing to do with the fever chills now.
“That’s why he sent you the first letter,” Genji continues. “Over time, that boy became me, and his affections became my affections. I don’t feel the same way about you as he did, for many things changed since, and the girl he knew is not the woman who sits before me tonight. And yet, the affection is still there, and like myself, it grew over time, and as I learned more about you, it seemed to feed off all those new, wonderful things that I discovered. This is an awful time to ask, Angela, but I was wondering if, once you are feeling less ill, you’d like to have dinner together, or perhaps watch a movie with me? This - I promise you I used to be much better at this, but I also promise that I am doing my best, and yes, I am asking you out for a date. Of course if you’d rather do these things only as friends I understand and I would not mind, and -”
“Genji.”Angela closes her eyes, slipping deeper into her bed; the pillows rub at her raw back and her throat feels sandpapery and sickly, but for the time being, the dizziness, the cold, and the frantic beating of her heart aren’t connected to the illness.“I have a lot on my mind right now, but the first thing I found myself asking while listening to your rambling was that I can’t quite believe you are looking at me like this, with my swollen eyes and red nose and disheveled hair and dry lips, and yet decide to ask me out anyway.”
He gasps a little, physically pulling back from her.“Oh,” he says clumsily, “I - I understand, I should have waited, I don’t want it to look like I’m trying to pressure you while you’re not feeling up to it, I’m… very sorry, Angela, that was not my intention.”
She throws a bored look at him, her eyes unfocused but judgemental.“Calm your nerves,” she tells him, but there’s a hint of amusement to her harsh tone, “Like I said, I am quite in my right mind. What I am not is in my right anything else; I am a sniffling, sneezing, coughing, gooey mess of sweat. And yet, you see this, and you think, yes, this is still the woman I would like to take to movies with me.”
Genji’s quiet now, quite still; she enjoys the confused, yet increasingly hopeful look on his features.
“Of course I’ll join you for a dinner, or a movie, or a dinner and a movie, once my condition improves. I would like nothing better, Genji. As friends, or else; we will have to find out about the details later. Who knows? You are charming, and I’ve more than occasionally felt weak in your presence, or inspired, or yet something wholly different. I didn’t think you might feel something like it too - I never let myself linger on it, thinking it inappropriate.”
“Inappropriate?” Genji lets out, and by the sound of it, the word is his first exhale in a very long time.
She nods.“Trappings of my profession, I fear. I quite simply don’t see myself as… dateable. Psychologically speaking, I think that may be something I need to work on in the future.”
A breathless laughter escapes the cyborg, and he shakes his head.“Trust me,” he says, his eyes playful once more as he looks at her, “You are quite dateable indeed.”
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amerraka · 6 years
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Original Fic Fest day 3-- Non-romantic relationship
The beginning of Sky’s relationship with Jet, her youngest son. 
I just have these two scenes--I may expand them into a story at some point, and then it’ll probably change a bit. 
@originalficfest
-
Sky stood looking out the window. The city shimmered in the heat, glinting like crystallized sugar.
My city, she thought. For the first time ever, she was alone, ruling it. The King had thought that it was quiet enough he and his son, her husband, could go on a diplomatic mission to Mirage. All was well. She should feel serene. She’d even made up with Ember before he left after a month-long fight. And since the city basically ruled itself, she could focus on her children. Already getting so big. Even little Blade. Right now they were all out playing, so she could have a moment of solitude, that, admittedly, she needed at times even though she loved her kids like crazy.
She missed Ember, of course. He’d been gone almost a month. He was due back soon, and then they could pick up where they’d left off. After a night of getting to know him again, exploring his glory, erasing the past with ecstasy, he’d left early in the morning, giving her a kiss, and then vanished like mist, leaving desire twisting in her stomach, shivering across her skin.
But now, unease gripped her. How would Ember react to the news? Perhaps this would shred their relationship just as it was healing.
She’d gone to the infirmary this morning for a routine checkup. The M had held its medical hand over her, and it made an insistent bleep, along with a green flashing light on the M’s palm.
She shot up. “What does that mean?”
The M’s eyebrow raised, looking a little surprised itself. “It means you’re pregnant.”
“I saw that alarm last time, I just thought—it was impossible.”
The M frowned, flexing its medical hand, one metal finger after the other in the air. “It should be impossible. But I don’t think I’m malfunctioning. Let me get another opinion.” And it summoned another medM over.
It checked her. “Yep, you’re pregnant,” it said, flipping its holographic hair, and went back to its other patient.
“Congratulations,” said her M doctor, who had a much better bedside manner than the other one.
“Thank you. I just—don’t know how this happened.”
“Did you not have intercourse with your husband?”
She paused at its rather obtuse, impolite question. “Yes.”
“Sorry. That was a joke.”
“Oh.”
It sighed. “I’ve been told I have to work on my sense of humor. Oh well. Yes, this is very unusual. It has been almost 1000 years since a member of the Royal family has conceived naturally. This is unprecedented in modern times, especially since how obsessive we are about purity—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply—“
She waved a hand. “That’s all right. I’m aware of the lore concerning purity of bloodline—the more pure, the harder it is to conceive naturally. And I’m aware that my own bloodline is as pure as it gets, which is why I’m mystified why this happens. I’m an anomaly.”
“Yes, an anomaly,” said the M, eager to rectify its mistake. “You are unique and should celebrate such an unexpected event.”
“Yes,” she said, and smiled at the M to encourage it for its effort. But inside, she felt a sinking feeling. She should feel elation—but what would Ember think about a surprise like this? It had been conceived from their last night of passion—from the timing, it could only be that night. She wasn’t worried whether he would doubt her; they had DNA tests for that anyway. She wasn’t worried that Justice, the king, would ostracize her. But Ember had inherited some of his father’s fire and his mother’s regard for the rules. Things that didn’t always go well together.
We already have our three children, she thought. What will we do with a fourth? It will be special, but what kind of place will it have in our family? No official role….but never an outcast. No, Ember wouldn’t do that. He loved her; he’d love their new son or daughter.
Her real concern was whether it would bring up memories. Of the past, what she longed to forget—
The records had been wiped from the System but she still remembered.
Her firstborn. A hundred years before she was supposed to start having children. A bleep on the monitor, a green blinking light on the M’s hand. “What does that mean?”
“You are with child.”
Excitement. Even though it was unheard-of….and unorthodox. She didn’t care. It was born from their love. And then—
They’d discovered it was deformed.
“It won’t have any quality of life. It won’t fit in—the best it can hope for is to live cooped up in the Spire. It’s best to get rid of it.”
Tears streamed down her cheeks. “But love—love, Ember. That’s all that matters. I can love it. It can love in return.”
“It’s so deformed it won’t be able to love. Trust me, Sky.”
And so she’d lain on the operating table, waiting for them to put her under, kill it—there it was on the monitor, not even recognizable as a human—best to put it to death before it could experience the misery of life—
And then, its little hand flexed, as if reaching out to her.
She flipped away the mask as it came down toward her face. Stood, gathering the skimpy hospital gown to her chest, and she ran.
Fled to another world, leaving Ember, everything behind, for the possibility, the slight glimmer of hope she’d seen when the baby had reached for her—
In the end, Ember had found her. She gave birth to the baby. And it had lived one month. She’d held it in her arms, and its deformed little face was beautiful to her. And then, one night of horrible gasping, amid the tents of the natives, it had died. In her arms. It was buried out in the wasteland, and Ember would never understand the love she’d had for it. It had shoved a rift between them, even though he loved her with all his being. But he hadn’t loved it. Hadn’t held it in his arms. He said to just forget it. And the family had erased the memory. Except her own. It had put a barrier between them, even though he’d forgiven her for leaving….perhaps she shouldn’t have left. But they would have killed it, even without her consent. It had died anyway—but it had known love.
She’d thought she’d moved on….but now the memories had come flooding back full force. It might shove a wedge in their relationship again, after all these years….another baby conceived naturally. What were the chances? Perhaps something was wrong with her….
She didn’t want to dredge up old pain. But this happy occasion was dimmed by the past, by the fact that this new child wasn’t really supposed to be.
But she had a city to rule, kids to raise. She had to forget it, for just a little….till Ember returned. Then, she’d have to tell him.
-
Sky held the tiny baby in her arms. For the first time, she was in physical contact with him since he’d been installed in the artificial womb 5 months ago, for her own safety. She touched his soft black hair, and kissed the top of his head. His nose was a perfect button nose. He opened his eyes, looked up at her, and his mouth made an ‘o’.
The door opened. Ember walked in, resplendent in his official robes of purple and gold.
“How is he?”
“He’s beautiful.”
Ember stepped over to the side of the bed. “He’s still a bit small. Maybe we should have kept him in the womb a bit longer.”
“He’s perfect the way he is! Look at him. Look at your son.”
“He has your eyes.” Awe filled his voice.
“And your hair.” She reached up, stroked his luxuriant black locks. “He’ll be a lot like you, I think.”
“We have no idea what he’ll be like.”
“That’s the wonder, the adventure of it.” She handed the baby to him. He took him in his arms. 
“What shall we name him?” he said.
“I was thinking….he should be named after your father.”
“Justice? But what about—“ 
“My father?” Sadness clung to her voice. “I want him to be like your father, not mine.”
“Justice it is then.” He leaned down and kissed his son’s forehead.
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kappasigmalife · 7 years
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Desolate Caladium: Chp 4��Is this love or war?
Desolate Caladium: Chp 5
Is this love or war?
Callum had been very distant since he kissed me, all he does is keep to himself while were living out in the cabin, hes rebuilt the wall and stayed out for odd hours of the day only coming home at night. When he kissed me, he said he may love me, im so confused, its like theres multiple sides to him at every turn, the stoic, the loving, and the violent. I wish I could help him through this but I have no idea what goes on in a mages head. Evelyn said that the main problem comes from his lack of control over mana as a mage, but training for five years under a master should of helped him.  This had only happened one time before when he and trev were out in the woods hunting and he got hurt while callum was looking for food. A beast came out of nowhere and callum just snapped breaking its neck in cold blood. She was watching from afar and saw the look in his eyes that told her to stay behind or she may be the next victim. I knew a simple hug wouldn’t help him snap out of the rage, it was something we had to watch and see. The more I think about it the more I notice that I do care about him. When we watched the snow he pulled away from me saying he was sorry for kissing me.
“its not something I can control, I don’t know what I feel anymore, all I know is I feel the need to help you every chance I get.” “then stay with me, your going to do the best you can.” “and what if I am the one to hurt you next”
That made me think all over again what It meant to hurt another person, weve traveled and hid for a long time since the death of the king, and were running out of money. Callum works day in and day out, never sleeping and trying to keep up the energy just to live. He visits Alfin and evelyn in the hospital repeatedly looking for the need to apologize but cant do a damn thing about it. Alfin wants a rematch but callum wont stand for it while hes recuperating. The madness I see in his eyes is nothing but a trivial matter in that state, it’s the power he unleashes that comprimises the sanctity of safety. Evelyn visits me in the day to talk and wants to travel with us in spring as a group considering none of us are capable of being on our own.
“its for the best desmond, were not here for any other reason but to survive in this bout of life.” “doing so will keep us in less danger, so please understand that I need to run this by callum.” “of course he will fully give support on a yes or no, but please we don’t have much time to spare.”
“I know and I will talk to him as soon as I can evelyn, its just he doesn’t seem to wanna talk anymore” “I know desmond, he must be sorting his feelings out, im sure he will be back to normal soon.” over the days going by, evelyn has shown me how to fight with the sickle and even sparred with me a few times, while I am still a novice I will learn to get better. She even made a chain for me to use as a long range weapon and got me a grip so my hand doesn’t get shredded. It was nice of her as I know with alfin in the hospital he wont be much help around so offering her food and a place to talk is fine with her. She does seem a bit worried of both of her friends and doesn’t seem to talk about trev as much as everyone else claims to talk about him as well. She says its cuase hes always distant and would normally just hang out with callum more often than not, but that might be cause they come from similar backgrounds and they saw each other as friends through commonality. Trev was the one who joined him during his training as a guard in case things went south.  She said he was always a man after money and almost got callum expelled cause he was taking payment for guard duty of other mages despite it being against the schools rule of compensation.
Elsewhere in the kingdom, trev appears before a group of elders about his performance. He has been wanted for taking payment against orders and may face expulsion from the knights guard for it. The council perceives him as a threat due to his heritage and bloodline, being a vampire is bad enough but a orc dwarf mix is unheard of even in peasant families.
“dear trevant, why do you think its fine to take wares from those you work under as a job.” “to make a living, nothing more nothing less, I find no need to not accept a payment for a better job.”
“we found the pendent in your quarters, is this what you accepted as payment from that wanted murderer?” “I accepted the pendant as a gift from caladium when he left for training before I was sent over, a personal gift from a friend and comrade, nothing more.” “you think we will fall for that garbage, you let a murderer live regardless of the orders, high treason is what you committed, hence forth the elders have decided to exile you not only from the knights guard but from the kingdom entirely.” “fine with me this place was getting to hectic for my taste anyway, just another group of old folk looking to take down a new generation of progressive movement, heres my weapon and badge, im keeping the armor.” “be sure you will be escorted this evening outside the gate, wehre you go from there is your own issue.” “well thank goodness, I thought id be still here begging for mercy.”
Trev is led out to the citys outskirts and led away from the guards. As he looks back he shrugs his shoulders and shoulders his svardstav looking to the north. He recounts that he is happy to be done with being a knight as he found it too bothersome to save anyone based on an order and many of his so called targets were innocent bystanders, who happen to have crap loads of money. Reaching into his satchel he notices how much money hes got.
“thank you caladium and your magic stash.” trev walks down the dirt path as the snow begins to fall looking upwards he decides to head north before the holiday rush begins, knowing full well being alone on holidays is quite a pain in the ass. He traveled to a small lodging taking a black horse and leaving a small sack of gold in its pen stealing one of the swords from the mans armory and hauling off to the north.
I never thought much of the fact that callum was focusing on himself until it donned on me that he doesn’t have anyone to fight on even footing, at least without going crazy. His fight with trev showed me how skilled he is but also how far hes willing to go for the sake of saving his friend. i see the look in his eyes knowing full well he wont be around all the time for us and that the token of giving up a priceless artifact just to save our lives was not to taken lightly. He came to me for the first time in a few days asking if I wanted to go out to the trade market and shop around. Despite the lack of money, he wanted to get out of the woods and enjoy ourselves for once before the tourists pile in. evelyn chose to stay behind and wait for alfin to fully recover, I promised to get her a new coat as her royal one will remain to conspicuous against finding areas to hide out. I notice though that even as we walked, callum was quiet as ever but was at least smiling at me for the least.
“evelyn been teaching you well, your steps are quieter than before, and your getting more fit.” “well yeah more so im happy that your finally talking to me.” “I know, ive been thinking about what I did and how I either acted stupidly or if it truly was for the best I did it.”
“you didn’t have to do it you know, you didn’t have be kiss me like you needed to prove something.” “well it was an heat of passion, I was blinded by emotion and thought that maybe I had some feelings spilling out, but that wasn’t the case.”
He grabbed me by the arm and dragged me to one of the shops, it was an apothecary that had rare herbs and minerals from far off lands. As I gazed around I could feel the energy was pure and whimsical to say the least. Callum had wanted this to be special for me, so he called in a favor from his friends outside the kingdom to make up for being so distant. In the back he set up a special meal for us with my favorite food. He lit the candles using magic and tossed a sphere to create an artificial moon over us. The night went on for hours as we enjoyed out meal and attempted to move past the  problems that we were facing with new comrades and the guards after us.
“never in my life would I feel safer than with you.” “no matter how far one of us goes, the other shall follow til the very end.” “despite the time, I feel as though we knew one another once before.” “that might be the case, but regardless, here we are now.”
I felt his foot going on top of mine not letting me go and proceeded to take me by the hand as the light dimmed into the room. He swayed me across as if it was a royal banquet and held me close. I felt overwhelmed as no one has ever embraced me as such before. The night felt like an eternity as I felt his gentle hands on mine, he rocked me in the room all night kissing my forehead and telling me that he was right to kiss me.
“no more will I be afraid, you were the first man to show me the look of innocence.” “and you are the man who showed me how to be a stronger person, to protect and believe that I am meant for more.” “I missed you so much over those five years, I always wanted to see you but the kingdom had turned on itself and I couldn’t find a way out.” “and I only wished to pay you back the way you did for me so many times.” as we walked out of the building he took my hand and held me close, I never seen him smile so much from one night of fun. He pulled me as we started rushing in the streets, bringing me to a wooden path.
“I wanted to ensure that this night doesn’t end too quickly, so I found a spot we can relax at.” “you really don’t have to do all this.” “trust me youll love this.” as he pulled me through the brush and down the path, I could tell that things were getting somehow warmer, like not just in the air or his smile. I finally felt like someone cared after so long. When we reached the end of the path I could only see a massive emerald fire burning in a pit and blanket sprawled out. callum sat asking me to join him and showed me what he had done.
“I used some old runes I had to make a everchanging flame, as it burns it shows the emotion we both convey.” “that’s really sweet, I can feel its heat from here.” callum kissed me saying that he was happy I loved the idea, the two of us kissed as we both saw the flames going from green to a yellow, and then to a deep red.
“crimson red, the color of love and adoration , all that I give for you is what I wish to hold.” “so long at you are close to me I can feel nothing but the upmost care for a man I see as my eternity.” Callum laid me down and undid my jacket seeing me sweating from the fires heat. He swiftly took his off and continued to caress my neck. I felt my arms grabbing his shirt tearing it slightly. When I apologized, he looked at me with an intense look.
“no need to think you hurt me, for im going to love you until the dawn breaks.” he took my shirt off holding my hands as he played with my nipples and teased my pants. I couldn’t help but look as he tore his off showing off his husky physique and sweated chest, his hair down and his brown eyes staring deeply into me like garnet nuggets in a kiln ready to be smoldered. He laid me down and unzipped my pants and began sucking me off. I could feel no better sensation than ive ever felt. I noticed his pants getting tighter and I unzipped them revealing this throbbing dagger, wholeheartedly grabbing and stroking it making him moan. I pulled the pants off as we stared at one another naked under the moonlight as callum waved his hands and wrapped the flames of love around us.
“I want you to see the magic of both humanity and the love I burn for you.” I watched as the flames began enveloping into a vortex around us and he laid on top of me his his hair parted and smiling at me. I felt as he began teasing my virgin hole with his hands and tongue, he was willing to do so much for me, and I could see the man I saw on horseback all that time ago, ready to make love for the first time. he held my hand as he made love to me, thrusting gently and slowly grabbing my waist and kissing me calling me name. the flames changing from red to yellow to a heavenly white. It was a perfect site to behold around me but the real sight was the man I wanted to see gazing into my eyes. He never topped pleasuring me even when he was the one doing the work, he made me feel so good that night. He made me climax right before him and as he waved his hand the flames receded to the pit and continued to burn. With us embracing the sun began to rise.
“that really was a magical endeavor callum, thank you.” he couldn’t hear as he had fallen asleep, I parted his and kissed his forehead and nuzzled up to him feeling his heartbeat as we slumbered well into the day.
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groveguardian-blog · 6 years
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Character name: Figaro (Fig)
Link to stats page: 🌳
Character biography: Give your character’s story. It should explain your character’s history, the reason for any powers they have, anything important about them.
Fig was born into a long bloodline of wood elves tasked with being the guardians of a sacred grove hidden away from the world. A relatively small tribe, the wood elves tasked themselves with communicating with plants and helping them grow, utilizing the crisp, cool waters of a nearby spring and the nutrient-rich soils of the land. Everyone had a special connection to the Goddess of the Grove, Gardenia, and regularly prayed to Her to ensure the health of their crops, flowers, and other plants.
For millennia, Fig and his ancestors were tasked with protecting the sacred grove, and so they did, the pristine environment remaining untouched by outside forces. But unbeknownst to the wood elves, and to Gardenia Herself, the forces of industrialization were approaching. It started slowly. Artificial fertilizers saturated the soils with phosphates, and the excess flowed as runoff causing suffocating algal blooms. Their once clear and beautiful springs turned harmful to the plants, and the area became sick and damaged. Before long, the situation grew more dire; phosphates turned to oils as mechanical systems invaded the surrounding forests, humans greedily chopping down the sacred trees for their strong, ancient wood. The ground became polluted and toxic, and the forest was cleared quickly and without warning. Animals fled from their homes as deforestation ravaged the area. Wood elves fought back, but they were no match for the humans and their advanced technologies. The protection of Gardenia weakened and the grove was eventually revealed and Fig, the last of his kind, remained until the very end. When all hope was lost, Gardenia approached him, frail and pale and weakened, but Fig remained faithful, he remained loyal, and he prayed to Her. With Her last bit of strength, She responded, bestowing upon Fig the power to commune with plants so that he may continue his duty elsewhere.
Now alone and without a home, Fig collected the final remnants of the sacred grove—an acorn from the oldest oak—and began his journey. Initially distrustful of the humans who destroyed his home, Figaro eventually encountered friendly humans, botanists and gardeners and environmentalists, with whom he made alliances. He would use his druid powers to heal damaged sanctuaries, plant new trees, and repopulate the natural world with the healing power of plant life. And while he knew he would likely never see his Goddess again, he continued to pray to Her and the withered grove that was lost.
Because over time, Nature always has a way to come back. And Figaro is determined to meet his Goddess once more.
Personality: How does your character act? What personality traits stand out about them? How do they react to different situations? Etc. (Minimum 15 sentences)
Figaro, while being an ancient soul, was one of the youngest wood elves of his tribe. From childhood, Fig was taught about the importance of nature and its effect on the rest of the world. Enthralled by the mysterious allure of Gardenia, Fig would spend much of his time with the elders, learning rituals and prayers for communicating with Her. He also spent much of his life learning from those charged with growing and supporting plant life for generations. A pacifist by nature, the places Fig would avoid in the sacred grove were the areas where warriors crafted weapons and trained. Despite many attempts to train him in the act of fighting, Fig was resistant and determined to avoid conflict at all costs. He allowed the warriors to teach him how to use air darts, but even still he refused to dip them in lethal toxins and poisons, instead opting for sleeping darts to incapacitate and retreat. When his grove was destroyed, Fig watched as the warriors and elders died one by one against the dangers of the outside world, further solidifying his aversion to fighting.
Once he began his travel, Figaro was initially wary of humans—after all, it was them who destroyed his home and killed his Goddess. He would instead speak with plants to find the best ways to maneuver within forests and woods, where people were scarce and easy to avoid. He heard stories of people destroying wildlife from flowers and trees, and so he grew even more wary of humanity. But over the years he encountered humans whose passion for flora matched his own—gardeners and botanists and farmers—who, while occasionally naïve, strove to take care of the plants in their charge. Fig would occasionally stray from his avoidant lifestyle to meet the people plants told him were passionate, and he would offer advice and guidance for keeping crops and gardens healthy. And over time, slowly and hesitantly his trust in humans grew.
Still, he prefers to keep to himself and the company of plant life around him. But his allies have grown in number, and he believes that the people who love nature will eventually overtake those who wish to do it harm.
Abilities: What powers does your character have? (Please explain in detail and Include all powers. Things that aren’t superhuman don’t have to be included, but can be for a better idea of what your character can do.)
Floral Communication: Gardenia, the Goddess of Fig’s sacred grove, bestowed upon him the ability to communicate with plant life of all kinds. He often prays to nature, asks them for advice, and listens to their guidance. He cannot directly control plants as of yet, but his words of encouragement and love have been known to help withering plants back to health.
Weapons/important items:
Sleeping darts: Fig is a pacifist, so his weapon of choice is designed for incapacitation and escape. He utilizes blow darts dipped in sleeping potion when in dire circumstances, allowing him to slip away without being hurt.
Goddess Seed: Fig carries an acorn he picked up from his sacred grove, the last remnant of his old home and a reminder of what was lost. Unbeknownst to him, the seed contains the spirit of Gardenia, the Goddess of the sacred grove and, when planted and nurtured back to health, can be used to revitalize the grove once more.
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OOC contact and your name: sarcasticandgay || chris
Other characters in Isola: 2
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