hello! This is the writing account of @enzie-ki! My inbox is currently CLOSED/TEMPORARILY INACTIVE! I write for, Alice in Borderland, The Uncanny Counter, and All Of Us Are Dead!
PEOPLE. OR WHO EVER GOT THE FIC THAT WAS CALLED A VOICE IN MY EARS. IT'S BARELY STARTED AND U FINISHED AND I CANT FIND A WAY TO UN-POST IT, DONT READ IT
SUMMARY: You've just finished your shift, and are waiting in an alleyway for a bus because your phone is dead. That's a dangerous situation to be in. Especially with evil spirits around.
WARNINGS: harassment, 2 instances of language
A/N: stay safe my guys, make sure your phone is fully charged when you go out, make sure you have a ride home, or at least are sure that there will be a bus or a train or something, don't go into alleyways to wait, especially not in the night (but try to avoid them anyway)!
ALSO I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER, I HAD SUCH SEVERE WRITER'S BLOCK.
WORD COUNT: 1.6K
. ▒█▒█▒█▒█▒█▒█▒🔘▒█▒█▒█▒█▒█▒█▒ .
Zero could describe a lot of things in your life right now.
Zero energy, zero signal, and now, zero battery on your phone. You tapped the lifeless screen in an attempt to coax a response out of it, but to no avail. Your shift had already been hard, and this was just the cherry on top.
Maybe catching a bus would be a better option than calling a ride.
You stepped away from the building, but as you were about to cross the road, a drop of water splashed down onto your head.
And then another.
And another.
It didn't take long before the drops turned into a frigid downpour, and you, having nothing to cover yourself, were forced to run backwards into a nearby covered alleyway.
Great.
Could things get any worse?
No battery, no energy, and now no way of getting home on foot without getting soaked.
You grumbled internally at your situation. All you could do was wait.
A presence hung in the shadows. 2, if you counted the spirit.
"Easy kill here, Chun-gi." whispered a tiny voice in the man's ear. His eyes locked onto your back, looking you up and down. He brought a hand down to his pocket, and his fingers closed around the handle of a flip knife.
You were none the wiser to the danger approaching behind you, eyes straight ahead on the road, checking for buses, and staying warm.
Then, suddenly, you felt something behind you. Not a person, no. You'd feel less distressed if it was. You turned around sharply.
Nothing.
Your senses must've been tricking you, but something told you they weren't. The feeling persisted as you turned back around, pulling, nagging, urging you that something was there, something was there, something was there, turn around, turn around, turn around turn around TURN AROUND—
"Nice legs, pretty."
Your head would've flown off had you turned around any faster. You stepped back, now facing away from the road.
You looked the man in the eyes, before backing away to the opposite wall, ignoring the comment. You weren't in the mood for this.
"Aw, come on pretty, don't ignore me!" he persisted, stepping over to you again.
"Leave me alone."
"Heh, you're a feisty one. You've got a nice ass too."
"I said, leave me alone, asshole!"
The man's eyes shrunk into malevolent slits, mouth shifting from the leering grin, to something slightly more aggressive.
"Now that's just rude." he snarled, hand creeping to his pocket.
"Rude girls like you need to be taught a lesson."
The next few seconds stretched out like dripping tar. You saw the telltale glint of a knife in his hand, and immediately turned and ran out of the alley towards the road, before being grabbed by your collar and fully thrown backwards into it.
People can't do that? People can't do that!
No fucking way.
You crawled backwards, getting up a safe distance away, frantically searching for another route out of the alley. 3 paths, 3 dead ends.
One outcome.
Wielding your bag like a club, you scanned for any possible escape route. Climbing the wall? Nothing to hold onto. You could jump on a bin and try from there, but the chance you'd fall was too high.
The man stepped closer.
"She's got no escape, and there's no one here! Now slit her pretty little throat."
He flipped the blade out.
You swung your bag around you, once, twice, before lunging forward and smacking him around the head.
Dazed, he fell.
You made a break for it, dropping the bag, but something grabbed your ankle, and you faceplanted into the pavement.
The man got up, didn't bother to wipe himself off, grabbed your collar, yanked you up, and slammed you against the wall. Now unarmed, all you could do was use your arms to block your face.
Nothing you could do. You'd bleed out in a dinky little alleyway, and your body would be found maybe hours later. He would've gotten away by then.
But you didn't give him the satisfaction of a defeated expression.
"Any last words, pretty?"
"Fuck you."
And as if that expletive was a message to the world that death was not on your agenda today, a voice called out.
"Hey!"
You both turned at the same time. A man stood on top of the wall you'd been planning to climb, pale grey skies making his figure a shadow.
"What do you want." the man said, dropping the knife into his sleeve.
"What are you doing to that lady?" he replied.
"Lady? This is my wife! Isn't that right, honey!"
Obviously you'd protest. And as you were about to, you felt the smooth metal against the back of your neck. One wrong word and you were dead.
And so, letting fear widen your eyes, you nodded, shaking.
"What are you doing! Don't try and steal my kill!"
"I'm not. This host has an annoying sense of morality."
"Leave!"
"I'll try and make him— oh?"
"Oh what?"
"Just got an exciting new proposition. Kill you instead."
"I doubt that. Let go of her."
"Or what?"
He jumped off the wall, landing effortlessly and almost soundlessly.
"Wanna find out?"
"You're dead."
The man, as if he'd heard something, seemed to tremble slightly. The pressure of the knife did not disappear, in fact, quite the opposite, you could feel your skin threatening to give. You gasped.
The man saw your face change, and in a single, fluid, completely unexpected motion, he kicked the man in the jaw. He crumbled like so many bricks. The knife clattered to the ground.
"You're so dead."
He looked at you. Looked at the pouring rain. Looked at your lack of anything waterproof. He reached into his pocket, and pulled out a folding umbrella.
"Here. I'm guessing the reason you were here in the first place was because of the rain."
You were hesitant. He grinned, and shouted,
"Think fast!"
On reflex, you caught the object. You looked back to the man, teeth bared in a friendly smile.
"I'll deal with this guy later." he said, walking up to you.
"I could walk you to the bus stop, if you'd like?"
"Um...if it's no trouble."
"It isn't."
With one last glance at the unconscious man, your saviour got up and the two of you left the alley together. You put the umbrella up between the two of you, sending raindrops flying and running down the sides.
You walked in stunned silence for a few minutes, brain processing what just happened. You'd come so very close to death, one slip of the hand away from bleeding out on your way back from work. And this man, this mysterious silhouette had jumped off a wall and saved you.
"So, um, I just wanted to say thank you."
He looked down at you.
"It's no worries. What's your name?"
"I'm Yeong-nae. What about you?"
He paused briefly.
"Cheong-sin. I like your name."
"Thanks, my mom gave it to me!"
He chuckled. It was an oddly pretty noise. It might have been random, but you felt yourself get a little warmer.
The shelter of the bus stop got closer as you made your way through the rain, chatting and laughing. The sound faded out into a comfortable silence, and you could hear the bus approaching.
"Well, it was nice meeting you!" he grinned, eyes locking briefly on the bus.
"And you! Maybe I'll see you again?"
He smiled.
"Maybe."
The bus rolled up, you waved goodbye, and he began to walk off, before you realised the umbrella was still in your hand.
"Wait! Your umbrella!" you called out, not daring to chase after him, lest you miss the bus. He looked back with a cheeky grin on his face, before jogging off. Friendly curses left your mouth as you folded it back up and got into the bus, sitting down on the first seat you found.
That interaction remained in your mind for quite a while. A strange, charming silhouette named Cheong-sin. Hopefully you would see him again.
As your bus rumbled down the road he made sure it was out of sight before he dashed back down the pavement, heading back towards the alley.
"You didn't have to waste so much time, you know."
"And you don't have to be so picky but you don't hear me complaining."
The brick arch of the alley made itself known, but the man was gone.
"He's still close."
He stepped into the alleyway, footsteps silent like a cat's. The spirit signalled him towards the wall at the opposite end of the alley, and there was a telltale splotch of blood on the umber bricks. Bingo.
With an impressive leap, Cheong-sin leaped straight up onto the wall, and looked down. Oh, what a pitiful sight. He had clearly attempted to climb the bins and escape over the wall, but his head was still scrambled so he'd cut himself on the knife, and fallen into the bushes behind.
"Hello again."
"Go to hell."
"Already done that one."
"Traitor!"
"Relax, you'll just be making me more powerful. Greater good, you know?"
He hopped down into the shrubs, crouching over the man's body as his eyes bled into crimson. There were no screams, barely a struggle as the ash-cloaked blue smoke of a corrupted soul was forced out of his mouth, and into Cheong-sin's, his eyes staining to black, veins twitching at the sudden surge of power.
The body was left in those shrubs as Cheong-sin took a flying leap onto the roof, landing effortlessly. Brushing himself off, he cracked his back before staring into the road, the red top of your bus disappearing into the distance.
kind of wanna reinforce this here. because i’ve seen ai writing become so popular on tik tok.
ai writing is not okay.
it’s literally theft. just like how ai art steals, ai writing steals. it’s using authors’ very real work to generate whatever you type in. and this also needs to be said as well.
writing is a form of art. fanfiction is a form of literature.
seeing this all over my fyp is REALLY discouraging. fanfic itself is already a labor of love and we love it when you interact. but please do not use ai writing for your fanfic needs when this writing literally steals from fanfic authors.
genuinely don’t know if this post will go around because my interactions outside of hcs are shit, but i hope it does.
AGREE WITH THE CHEONG-SHIN LOVERS! Hiiii, you write for him? That's it, we are bff now and i love you hahaaha but can we talk how he Is a hurt puppy? He just needs tons of love and attention, just imagine His reaction as you take care of His wounds AND he genuinelly Is so shochekd ahhhh i love him
MHM MHM WE BESTIES and yes he is a hurt puppy or maybe a hurt kitten, here's some wounded Cheong-Sin for ya :]
SCRATCH
(Bad header by me)
REQUESTED: yes || no
PAIRING: Ji Cheong-Sin x named!fem!reader
SUMMARY: Cheong-Sin comes home one night, covered in blood and still bleeding. You'd worry about what happened later, your priority now was to patch him up.
WARNINGS: graphic description of injuries, blood
. ▒█▒█▒█▒█▒█▒█▒🩸▒█▒█▒█▒█▒█▒█▒ .
The time was 7 PM. You were sitting at your desk, working on an assignment from work, about what was and wasn't in stock. What you didn't get was why you specifically had to do it, there was a whole team who did that kind of stuff. Maybe they were understaffed? You didn't know.
What you did know, is that you had to get this done by tomorrow, or your boss would be pretty pissed, so, you tapped away.
If you were passing in front of Natsuo Apartments at that time of night, you would barely have noticed the glistening red droplets on the pavement, and if you had, you'd probably assume it was just water.
Of course, it wasn't. It was blood. Around the side of the building, Cheong-sin clutched his side in pain, blood spilling out from between his fingers, coating his hands in slick. Red trailed down from his nose, his mouth looked like a failed attempt at lipstick. Every breath he took was strained, straining against the drops of his own blood dripping down his throat. He coughed and a red flower bloomed on the ground in front of him.
"For once that girlfriend of yours could be useful. We still have the strength to climb, and there's a pipe. Get up there."
"What do you mean for once? Shut up."
"Never mind. Just, get up that pipe, before someone catches you."
He looked up at the building, taking into account the large pipe standing tall against the wall. His hand dragged across the bricks before coming to rest on the pipe. He hit it.
Sturdy.
You turned your head to your window briefly. A noise outside had caught your attention. Like a metallic echoing. The wind rushed at your face as you stuck your head out of the window. The only things outside were the city, the moon, and the rest of the building below you. Nothing.
Cheong-sin pressed his back to the edge of the pipe as he heard a window opening. No one could see him, or he'd have to kill them, and killing someone in his girlfriend's apartment block was a no-no. The thud of a window closing triggered him to start climbing again. His arms felt weaker still, pins and needles crawling up his muscles, sparks gathering at the edge of his vision. Why the hell did those stupid tracksuit-clad Counters have to be so strong today?
A bloody hand grabbed the edge of a windowsill. He pulled himself to eye-level with the window looking inside the room. [colour] wallpaper. [colour] floors. And in the center, you, sitting at your desk, lamp illuminating your desk.
Tap. Tap.
You spun around in your chair and almost screamed. A bloody hand was tapping at your window, leaving red dots on the glass. There was no way in hell you were going near that.
The tapping increased in fervour, and as you were about to get a knife from the kitchen, a cry caught your attention.
"Yeong-nae!" it cried, voice hoarse. You knew that voice.
"Cheong-sin?"
"Yeong-nae, open the window, it's me!"
You turned away from the kitchen and ran towards the window, practically throwing it open.
"Cheong-sin! What happened— nevermind that, get in here!" you exclaimed, grabbing his outstretched hand and pulling him up through the window. He collapsed onto the floor, sprawling out, exhausted.
You sunk to your knees beside him, eyes prickling with tears. What on earth could've happened to him? He looked like he'd been through hell and back multiple times. Red flowers bloomed on the carpet beneath him, bloody smudges their stems. Only a few seconds passed before you were at his side with a damp towel, wiping the blood from his face, and pressing the cloth to the wound on his head.
Your breaths were erratic, moving so fast that you were clumsy, stumbling on air to make sure he was fine. You peeled the jacket off his tired body, and bloody hell he was a state. His side had several deep cuts, like he'd been stabbed or sliced, or whatever else could be done with a knife. His shoulder was pretty messed up too, grazed like he'd been dragged across the ground.
This was a hospital matter, but since he'd come here, you'd patch him up the best you could.
Over the next 20 or so minutes, a pile of bandages built up next to you, and slowly began to shrink as you tended to Cheong-sin's wounds. The gashes in his fair skin were gradually replaced with plasters and bandages, most were bloadsoaked by the time you were done, but he wasn't bleeding as much anymore, which you were glad you even managed to do, seeing as you were not a trained professional.
Now for his head wound. The trickier bit.
You lifted his head slightly, pain biting your chest as he winced.
His hand crept across the carpet, shaking as he raised it up to your arm that was busy patching up his head, and grabbed onto it.
"Aegiya, what's up?"
His grip tightened and you felt your arm begin to move from it's busy position and across, to his bare bloodied chest. He placed his hand atop yours, breathing in, and out.
It was as if your touch revitalised him somehow, because his heartbeat seemed to be slower now, steadier too, and his brown irises were now visible, eyes wide and alert.
"I'm sorry." he said, simply.
"Sorry? Sorry for what?" you replied, just thankful he was talking.
"Putting this on you. I shouldn't have come—"
"Quiet. Don't apologise." you responded, using your other hand to tie the bandage around his head.
"There we go. Let's get you onto the bed or the sofa or something soft."
He cracked a smile.
"You can't carry me. I'm fine on the floor." he said.
"Hm. You're not fine on the floor." you replied, stepping away and towards the sofa. The cushions on it were chucked onto the floor and Cheong-sin turned his head slightly, to see what you were doing.
"If I can't move you onto something soft than I'll just," you started, lifting his legs up and sliding a pillow under them. Next with his back, and then his head, until he lay atop a makeshift mattress, which would soon be surrounded by other pillows and blankets from around the room.
"I'll just move something soft under you."
"You're far too kind to me."
"It's about time there was a role reversal." you replied, smiling.
(SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT, I THOUGHT I POSTED THIS, BUT DUMB BRAIN KICKED IN AND I DIDNR POST IT SMH)
Hiiiii, can we talk how would Cheong-Shin react when you get hurt? He is 9348490% an over protective cutie
Absolutely, let's do that.
Minor Injuries.
Be it something as small as a scrape on your knee, or a graze on your arm, Cheong-Sin spends precious time patching you up.
He'll clean each wound meticulously, giving you small kisses to try and distract you from the pain from the rubbing alcohol.
Finally, before putting plasters or any sort of covering, he'll kiss each wound, and even with no proper evidence, you both swore that it made them heal faster.
Major Injuries.
(TW: car accident, mentions of murder, broken bones, drunk driving )
A/N: The police number in South Korea is 112, and ambulance/fire dept. is 119
Also potentially unrealistic injuries, I've never been hit by a car so I wouldn't know
Let's be honest here. Cheong-Sin doesn't let you get badly hurt.
When you go out, he's with you.
When you're at home, he's with you.
When you're out with friends, he may not be directly by your side, but he'll be in the area.
However, with the Counters after him now, he had to spend more and more time away, leaving you vulnerable to whatever society had to throw at you. He couldn't even use a proper phone, lest it get tracked and traced back to you.
You, on the other hand, didn't know what was happening to him. He'd be with you for a few days, then disappear for a week, with barely any notice. You couldn't even call to ask where he went, due to the dangerous nature of his job. But sometimes he'd call you with a burner phone, just to check on you.
(You don't know what he actually does, but he's told you he's an agent of some sort, which excuses these absences.)
So, on one of the days he isn't in, you go out to buy groceries. It's weird not having him with you. It feels like you're missing something. Not as large as an arm, nor as painful as a heart. Just a presence. A sense of safety.
But it was fine, right? You'd been okay without him before, you'd be alright now.
You stepped out of your apartment building into the not-so-busy streets of Jungjin. The occasional car streamed down the road. The sky was a pale grey, the sun a light spot against the cloud cover. Not much was going on today. Oh well.
You turned the corner onto the street that led to the grocery store, making sure to step over the ground tile that stuck slightly up as you removed your earphones from your pocket.
What to listen to?
(or replace that with your favourite song)
The tunes swirled around in your mind as you turned up the volume, blocking out the boring environment, blocking out practically anything that could be heard. Which was technically unsafe, but this was a relatively safe city. The street was also empty, except for a few people in cafés, so you'd be fine.
You started to recount your grocery list in your head.
A sharp pain, a sensation of flying, and the world went dark.
It was a shame you couldn't hear what was going on around you, or you would have heard a faint rumbling behind you, and might have been able to jump out of the way of the car that had sped onto the pavement.
Your unconscious body was sprawled out on the ground, head and nose bleeding.
The people in the cafés began to pour out, having seen the car through the glass. Several people called 112, others called 119.
Coincidentally, your phone began to ring. Unknown Number.
In a hotel on the far side of Jungjin, Ji Cheong-Sin typed your number into his burner phone.
"Who you calling?" asked a voice from across the room. He looked up to see Hyang-hui standing there, smiling as always.
"None of your business." he replied, letting the phone ring.
"Aw, who is it? Come on, tell me!"
"I said, it's none of your business."
"Damn, why so cagey? Don't tell me you've got a secret girlfriend or something?"
He put his hand on the bed, as to stand up.
"Damn, ok! I'll leave you alone then!" she said, slipping out of the door.
He sighed and sat back down. You weren't picking up the phone. That was very strange.
Normally you either picked up, or messaged saying you were at work, but no response at all? That was odd.
He called again.
As you were carried into the ambulance, your eyes began to crack open.
You raised your hand to your face, shielding your eyes from the light. Murmurs surrounded you. A face entered your frame of view.
"She's awake." it said, standing up.
A collective sigh of relief filled the vehicle.
"Ma'am, do you feel pain anywhere?" asked another one.
"Mhh...what?"
Then the pain did kick in. Your arm shot to your knee, it felt like you'd, well, you didn't know what it felt like, but it hurt.
The care assistants took a quick glance, and it was quite clear to see. Your kneecap was deformed. Fractured.
"Kiyo, I need a splint, Hyun-dae, tell the hospital about the patient." said one of the people.
"Gotcha Jae-dal." replied another.
Cheong-sin was getting worried now. Normally you'd have sent him a message or something, but you just hadn't responded at all.
"Cheong-sin? Is your secret girlfriend not replying?" called Hyang-hui from outside the door. Her footsteps retreated into the other room as Cheong-sin got up. He threw the door open but instead of confronting her, he approached the door out their hotel suite.
"Where are you going?"
"Out."
"You know the Counters are looking for you, right?"
"Don't care. I'll be back in a few hours."
"Hours?! Where are y—"
Cheong-sin closed the door.
After hailing a taxi, and paying the driver to go faster than was safe, he got off in front of your apartment building. He ran up the stairs, and hastily unlocked the door with the key you had given him.
Empty.
Now he was really worried. Not picking calls, not in your apartment, where would you be? Was he being obsessive? No, he wasn't.
*buzz* *buzz*
He yanked his phone from his pocket, to see two nerve-clenching messages.
"am in the hopsital"
"*hospital"
He could not have run faster.
You lay in your hospital bed after seeing the 4 missed calls from an unknown number. Cheong-sin was definitely worried about you. Well, you were worried about him too, you didn't want him to get hurt in his job as some sort of secret agent.
"Can I go to the place where you go home? My boyfriend's gonna be worried."
"Well we should keep you here for a bit, just to make sure your condition is stable."
"Well, I feel fine. My leg and hand hurt, but we established that in the ambulance. Can I go?" you asked.
"We don't advise it."
"I'll be fine. Is there like a form or something I can sign so I can leave?"
"Alright then. Yes, there is."
After signing, you were provided a pair of crutches, and assisted to the exit.
The next few seconds felt like a lifetime for Cheong-sin. As you came into frame, knee in a cast, and crutches under your shoulders, his heart sank. He rushed forward, eyes almost glassy.
"This is what happens when you form human connections, they're weak. They get hurt. Why not just kill her and save yourself the pain?", whispered the spirit, but Cheong-sin paid no notice. That was the furthest thing from his mind right now.
He pulled you close, burying his head into your shoulder, lifting you off the ground slightly.
You wrapped a feeble arm around him, smiling.
"I'm so, so sorry. If only I had been there I could've—"
"Quiet, aegiya." you said, pressing a hand to his mouth. "If you'd been there, you'd only have gotten hurt yourself."
"But I wouldn't have been." he started, pulling your hand away. "I could have got you out of the way, or stopped the car, or— I'm so sorry." he replied, squeezing your hand tightly.
Cheong-sin carried you in his arms all the way home. No matter how much you said you could walk, he refused to let you. You'd already been hurt enough.
He wouldn't be returning to the hotel tonight. Hyang-hui could wait.
Recovery.
Cheong-sin would try his best to be around for your recovery, but obviously he couldn't, but every chance he got he'd stay by your side, get you food, water, things to do, check on your situation, by phone if he couldn't be there in person. You wouldn't be able to worsen the injury even if you tried, despite what the hospital said. Your leg was immobilised, as was your [non-dominant] hand, so nothing could really happen to you.
The driver who had crashed into you was drunk, and was taken to the police station once the police were called. An accident took place that night.
A drunk driver was broken out of a holding cell in Jungjin police station. There were signs of a struggle, but there was no security footage for about 3 minutes in that police station. Once it came back, both drunk driver and the person who broke him out were gone.
Some people reported hearing screams late in the night, but when the area was examined, nothing was found.
No police officers had any record of this happening.
And Cheong-sin got home slightly later that night, with scarlet eyes.
HOW WOULD OTHER BORDERLAND CHARACTERS GET MIRA KANO-ED IN THE Q❤️ GAME? SPOILERS AHEAD!!!!!!!!
(By Mira Kano-ed I mean like all the hallucination and manipulation crap that Arisu and Usagi had to go through)
WARNINGS: not-so-bad derealization, mentions of pills, child neglect.
Characters:
Niragi, Chishiya, and Shinrai (OC)
.▒█▒█▒█▒█▒█▒█▒ ❤️ ▒█▒█▒█▒█▒█▒█▒.
NIRAGI
(honestly I doubt he could have made it to the rooftop without bleeding out or just collapsing and dying cus he was dying for like half the season and coughing up blood and then he literally got shot but IF HE COULD—)
It says on the wiki that he was a game designer, and I took that and ran with it.
He definitely would be a tough one to break, seeing as he got burned, fell off a roof, burned again, and shot in the stomach.
That would be something he would be unable to forget, ever (because he's covered in 3rd degree burns, and has a hole in his stomach)
But experiences can be simulated, and so can pain.
He was a game designer, correct?
Well, his company had started to delve into virtual reality, and he was the first tester for the new VR lenses.
This one wasn't a headset, no, these were lenses, that were put into your eyes like contacts.
But it worked too well. The lenses latched onto nerves in his brain, and would not release him until the game was finished. (neuroscientists don't come for me TvT)
Borders? That's something that occurs in videogames, right? Lasers that come from the sky? That couldn't happen in any place other than a videogame.
*cue visual of lenses being taken out of the eyes*
Mira was one of the people in management at the company, and was working to remove the lenses. She was also the creator of the game, which she called "B🂡RDERLAND".
*cue Niragi realising he's in the "real" world again, but tied to a chair*
Mira tells him that they fear the experience may have altered some of his brain functions, and he needs to take these pills to end the games.
Niragi's always been suspicious of taking pills or consuming stuff that he doesn't fully know the effects of, or just taking consumables from people.
(because he got bullied)
So, he asks what the pills do, while trying to get out of the restraints, as they bring back bad memories, and Mira just keeps telling him they end the games.
He slowly begins to remember that the rules for the game were play 3 rounds and don't quit, and as he struggles against the restraints, and Mira just keeps telling him the pills stop the games,
*cue ripping sound effect*
As the restraints on his arms tear off, he finds himself back in Borderland again.
(we all know that in reality he would have tried to shoot her, and since he's not that rational, probably would shoot her, thus dooming himself (and everyone else I think), but for the sake of this let's give him some rationality.)
CHISHIYA
(just remembered that he's also bleeding out but he was barely fazed by that)
We all know this man wouldn't be affected by Mira's words and would probably manipulate her into letting him win.
Or it'd be a standoff manipulation battle between the two.
Ok, but let's think about what she could to to try (and fail) to get him to quit.
The one thing we've seen Chishiya be even slightly perturbed about was that one scene in the hospital where they had to give the heart to a guy who had made lots of donations to the hospital instead of this little boy whose mother he had promised her son would get better.
She'd probably start on about how the decision haunted him and he'd immediately say "um, no it didn't, sure, I was kinda upset about it, but like, all that taught me is that life is unfair and choices are cruel. Anyway let's play croquet I want this to be over."
Mira would immediately try and find some other memory, but Chishiya hasn't had much stuff to faze him. Like ever.
This man has only been mildly amused or slightly shocked at literally everything in his life.
Mira has nothing to go on here, so all she can do is stall, and keep trying to scan for trauma, but she's got nothing on him.
His mind isn't an iron fortress, it's just plains, with nothing on them. No spikes for hurt memories, no blood for pain, no holes for grief, no.
(If you cover spikes with dirt, it appears as normal ground.)
But anyway. Mira is, for once in her life, stumped.
However, when there is no trauma to prey on, you have to create it yourself.
She scans his mind for anything that could be used against him, friends, family,
All Chishiya's friends are people who he knows are safe, and his family? All his memories of them are locked in stone.
But even if she did find anything, he's fully aware of his situation now, and he's just sitting there at the tea table, grin on his face.
"Let's play croquet, shall we?"
(honestly, if I was Mira, I would be stumped too, because how do you hurt someone when you have nothing to hurt them with?)
SHINRAI (OC)
(I had a dream this morning about her backstory, and I just had to, if you don't want OC content, don't read. Also, TW: Child Neglect, because Shinrai is somewhere between the ages of 9 and 11 (no that's not meant to be a joke), um, yeah that's it, enjoy.)
Quick Before-The-Content:
Kid who ended up in the Borderlands, and has mainly survived because she is a child, and her very high IQ.
Partnered up with Chishiya for some time in phase two, they are kinda alike in personality and intelligence.
Despite being so young, Shinrai is extremely mature, but in the wrong ways, (as in she only got to be a child for 5-6 years before getting put into foster care, she has adult perception of the world, but is a kid inside, so all her emotion and interaction receptors are way massed up), she feels the world is cruel due to having terrible foster parents, who completely neglected her, except for basic needs.
However, one day they got a massive bonus from the company they worked for, and splashed out on expensive clothes and most importantly, a holiday overseas. Also, so she wouldn't complain, they bought her a crapton of toys.
Left for their holiday, leaving Shinrai alone in Tokyo, BOOM! Borderlands time!
OK THE CONTENT STARTS NOW
Shinrai wouldn't be a tough one to convince, as she has a hell of a lot of trauma for Mira to use.
Once the manipulation started, Shinrai would be back in her room, the one in her foster parents' house, surrounded by toys which she didn't have much need for, but had become pretty much her only source of entertainment.
She had built a Lego wall around the front of her room, and within that wall were numerous amounts of dolls.
A handmade doll with dark curly hair and dungarees. A boy in a plushy cat costume.
Herself, Chishiya.
A boy with spiky hair in blue and white clothes. A girl in mountain climbing gear.
Arisu, Usagi.
A strongman and another doll, which had partially melted, due to being stuck behind a radiator and catching fire.
Aguni, Niragi.
A girl in spy gear, and one in a swimsuit.
Ann, Kuina.
An ornate doll with long black hair and a twinkly black dress.
Mira.
Slowly, but surely, she began to realise. All these toys represented people she had met during her time here.
Even Mira.
All her life, her imagination had been hyperactive, creating wild worlds in her head, so was it possible, that this whole experience was something she'd created?
No. Surely not.
The Mira-doll spoke up.
"Your foster carers left you here, and didn't come back from their holiday. Food was running out, and you don't have keys. So, you distracted yourself with these toys."
"You created a whole world in your head. All of this is your doing. You even put yourself in the world." she said, hand moving towards the Shinrai-doll.
Shinrai would probably go into immense shock from this, because, well, it sounded plausible.
But that meant all her friends, all the relationships she'd built, they were fabricated?
"You don't want to live a false life, do you?" said the Mira-doll, eyebrow raising.
"N-No?"
The doll hopped off her pedestal, walk across the floor, and exit the wall through a Lego archway that didn't seem to be there before.
"All you have to do is step out." it said, extending a porcelain hand.
This would be it. Mira would win, and Borderland would continue until everyone's visas ran out.
A hand grabbed onto her trouser leg. She looked back. The plastic hand of the boy with spiky hair.
"Shinrai? Hey, it's me, Arisu! We're all real! Don't listen to her!"
The mountain climber girl came next.
"Yeah! Shinrai it's Usagi! You remember us? We're real!"
The girl in a swimsuit.
"You think all of this is fake? Hell no! Don't go, Shinrai?"
And finally, the boy in the cat costume.
"You think you could have fabricated someone as complex as me? Don't listen to her."
And finally, the illusion would end with Shinrai turning around to the masses of dolls looking up at her with determined eyes, and saying,
"No thanks. I'm staying with my friends."
(I hope you enjoyed this! Kinda got carried away, but I loved writing it, and I hope you liked reading it! Have a blessed day folks!)
