#she WOULD have been a goddess of violence. the little violences. personal fights and murder and such. but um. she didn’t get to reach her | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hannya-writes · 3 years

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Your Kind

Title: Your kind

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Pairing: Derek Hale x Reader, Peter Hale x Vampire!reader?

Other Characters: Kate Argent (mentioned), Laura Hale, Cora Hale and Talia Hale (Mentioned)

Category: friendship, platonic love.

Warning: Reader is a Vampire! Young Derek, and Young Peter because that's dangerous! This all happened after Paige's Dead. Violence, hypnotism or mind control (not sure but hey!) Peter being wild, I guess this is kind of sad.

Author's note: I didn't wanted to use the common powers of vampires because cliche! And I ended up with a mix of a striga, a bat and kind of werewolf powers, If I write a part 2, maybe I'll explain what's up with my version of vampires. And no! Vampire reader is not killing anyone... Yet. Also gifs are not mine, I found them on google!

• • •

In the moment you had stepped in Beacon Hills you had know that you shouldn't stay there for a long time. You weren't welcome. There was a Werewolf pack in town and werewolves didn't like your type. Maybe because of legends, since they told that your races were supposed to be enemies. Maybe because of a bad experience with someone of your race, maybe because it was engrained in their DNA. You didn't know. You never asked.

You just stayed as far away of the Hale family as possible. It was a problem that you got stuck in classes with no one else but Derek Hale. A teenager that had smell death and blood on you. He was cautious and curious about you, sneaking on you, expecting you to blow your cover. But you didn't. You had smelled him too, he smelled like a wolf, a mix of the animal itself and the smell of forest that came with them and made normal people get scared: the smell of the unknown, of danger.

You played it cool. You were a good student, middly attractive, you spoke when others spoke to you, you were kind and relaxed, you even helped some students in what was possible. When some students decided to pick on you, you didn't reacted. Never lost the patience that had been taught to you.

Then, there was Kate. Kate loved to pick on you, mock you, call you "the new library mouse". It was her insistance on you that had made Derek pay more attention to you. He smelled your murderous instinct every time Kate was close. An truth be told, he was amazed by your self-control.

After being put in a science work with him, you finally got the chance to know each other. You two had speak to each other like civilized human beings. You had joked together, you even became friends.

He wanted, no. He needed to know. He deserved to know, you were his friend now, he wanted to tell you what he was and needed to know more about you.

— Y/n, what are you? — he directly asked you one evening after the end of school, you were the last two people in the library, the question made you uneasy. If he discovered you, his family would kill you.

— excuse me? — was your simple answer, play dumb was your way out. Your parents have told you to do that, and act as a victim if necesary.

— you are not human, I can smell you — he confronted you walking in your direction.

— I'm a human, duh — you rolled your eyes faking amusement — Smell me? — you added with a perfect tone of confusion you had rehersed — do I smell good? — that last question was pure curiousness, you had recognized every part of his scent, you knew what every change in it mean so... Had he, maybe, done the same? Was it disgusting to him because of what you were?

— what? — he was surprised by your last words and you wished earth could swallow you whole, maybe your head first since you were blushing.

— there you are, I've been look for you — just in time, Peter Hale entered the library. And if Derek smelled of danger, Peter reak of wildness and blood. That was the first time you met, and unlike Derek, Peter took the opportunity to attack like the animal he was. Probably because he knew what you were.

Peter snarled at you, showing his fangs and blue glowing eyes, his fingernails turned to claws and suddenly the whole library smelled like wolf. His transformation triggered yours, he was challenging you in the little space that was yours. So, yes. You turned, but unlike him your fingers turned longer, your fingernails became long white claws. Your skin became paler, to the point of looking like a corpse. Your usually y/e/c eyes became red like those of an Alpha werewolf but unlike them your sclera turned black. Your 4 fangs grew in an instant and a high pitch sound inaudible for humans came out of your throat.

Derek covered his ears in pain at the sound that came from you. He couldn't believe his eyes, a wave of fear made him step away from you and Peter, his instinct told him to either fight by peter side or runaway. However his body wasn't able to move.

In a complete opposite reaction Peter jumped over you, hands extended, face contorted in an angry, animalistic expression. You saw him get closer but you didn't back off, you took a stride and with your longer hands throwed him away towards one of the book shelves. He didn't expected it, he had never fought a being like you.

— Leave — you warned him standing over him, but he wasn't afraid, he was angry. He jumped to his feet and charged again at you. You stepped away from his path, making him more furious. You were faster, you got more range with your claws. He was going to loose. That's why werewolves attacked your kind in packs. They trusted in their numbers, the organization. A lonely wolf, was a dead wolf.

Peter roared at you as he once again attacked. You knew what to do to kill him, one single slash of your claws and his lower jaw would be flying in the air. He would bleed out. You could almost see it.

However, instead of killing the menace you used one of the tricks the werewolves hated the most.

— calm down — you said in a soft voice keeping the eye contact and all of his attention on you— I'm not your enemy — you got closer to the werewolf, your hand lightly touched his face.

Peter would never be able of describe the sensation that over took him at your words, it had been as if suddenly he was in heaven, and the person speaking was an angel, better! a Goddess! He loved you, he would do everything in his hands to just hear you a little more. He will kill for you, he'll ask you to order him to kill in your name. Just for that sensation of fullness, happiness. You weren't his enemy, how could you? You were everything he wanted and more.

Your scent, your voice, your light touch, even your face had Peter hypnotized. You fully wrapped the violent werewolf with your presence, and he looked at you with big warm eyes. Even you hated using that trick. It was an induced state of bliss that made people easy to manipulate.

— everything is fine — Derek heard you said softly almost in a loving way, that made him feeling somehow nervous. He knew there was something wrong and he had to do something.

— who are you? — Peter asked in a soft tone that made you feel guilty of using your power over him. You took a breathe to aswer and then froze as you felt claws against the soft skin of your neck.

Peter saw the menace, felt your hand leave his face and fury rose from his chest, he growled warning Derek. He was aware of Derek speaking to you but the words didn't make sense why was Derek telling his goddess to let him go?

— Derek, please wait — hear you say his name made him see red. You had say Derek's name but not his? How could you? How dare Derek try to take you away?

Horrified you saw the werewolf extend his hand to attack Derek, you felt Derek's claws cutting your neck as you moved to avoid that the other werewolf claws hurt Derek. You had pushed Derek to your right. As you felt the spell over Peter was broken. Blood spilled from your wound, the strong taste of iron hit your tongue as you fought to breathe. But you couldn't, not with your throat slashed, not even when you tried to stop the bleeding with your hands.

Peter saw you confused, he didn't know if he had done that. He wanted to think that he had cut your throat, but he couldn't believe it.

— no, no Y/n — Derek spoke with panic as he crawled to you horrified by what he had done. He had kill you. It was like Paige all over again. His hands pressed over your hands trying to stop the bleeding.

— that won't kill her, she is a vampire — Peter said coldly, his eyes greedily watched how you struggled, how your red eyes slowly smother. He was amazed but disappointed, you a mythical creatures, a vampire non the less were dying like a common human being. You weren't as powerful as he expected. Why weren't you healing?

— I'm sorry — derek muttered ashamed, and Peter noticed that his own hands weren't tainted with blood. Derek hands were stained in red.

— no — peter voice was filled with hate, that vampire was his prey. That little vampire was his. You were his. Derek wasn't going to be your killer. His body moved and pushed Derek away from you with a kick, his hands took yours with the intent of taking them away from your wound, but he stopped. A sensation of coldness overtook him, his eyes slowly closed with a sudden desire to sleep.

On your end, the moment his hands touched you it felt like fire, the blood stopped flowing and the wound closed in a matter of seconds. You coughed a blood and the werewolf felt by your side asleep. The tears felt from your eyes freely and after a moment you hugged yourself to get a hold of your panic. The sound of someone else crying made you sit and look at Derek sniffing, with tears in his cheeks.

— D, D... Derek? — you called him out with a gruff voice, thanks to your recently healed vocal chords. — Der, der, derek — you repeated afraid of him being hurt, the worry made you stand up and walk towards him. — did he hurt you? Derek, are you ok? —

Derek looked at you with surprise and relieve, in his face the path of tears was pretty obvious.

— y/n, you are a vampire — he wasn't asking, of course not! the other werewolf had said it as you were almost dying.

— and you a werewolf — was the only thing that crossed your mind as you saw him.

— did you... Kill my uncle? — somehow Derek didn't sound worried, you denied with your head.

— Vampires... Can heal with the help of a werewolf — you said looking down, ashamed.

— but I, I... I tried to help you and.. — He was clearly confused and you sighed, feeling the need to explain yourself

— I charmed him, that makes a bond like the one of a master and a servant. You are not my servant... You can't heal me — you hated that stupid explanation but it was the truth.

Vampires had slaved werewolves to be closer to immortality. But not all of you did that. You had never had to charm someone, it could make people go crazy. It made a big unbalance in nature, made you get closer to the beast inside.

— I don't think Uncle Peter wanted to heal you — the comment made you giggle, but it soon died out.

— I know — you looked at Derek eyes for a moment — I won't charm you Derek, you are the closer to a friend I have and I have only speak to you for like... Two weeks — you smiled with sadness, knowing that this was a goodbye — but I have to go and your uncle has to forget about me —

— you are leaving? — he asked worried and a bit angry after all he had just found out what kind of creature you were — why? —

— Derek, your family is going to kill me if they discover that I charmed your uncle — you admitted scratching your neck nervously.

— My mom wouldn't... — Derek was trying to convince you, he made you feel bad, made you want to stay.

— she's going to do it — you stood up and went to his uncle, placidly asleep, Derek followed you. — I'm a problem to solve, a burden to destroy — you kneeled by Peter's side and reached to the back of his neck with a hand.

— no, you are not — he stated as serious as a heart stroke. — you are my friend — that made you smile.

— remember that if I make your uncle become a psycho — was the last thing you said before sinking your claws in Peter.

— maybe he already is one — he joked and the funny thing: that was the last thing he remembered of that day. He couldn't remember saying goodbye to you or how he got home. His memories started again with him being home, Laura and Cora were laughing and his mother got closer with a smile and a question: "Everything ok? You seem distracted"

And he had lied to her.

• • •

So, are you Team Peter or Team Derek?

#teen wolf #fanfiction #young derek hale #derek hale x reader #darek hale #young peter Hale #peter hale x you #imagine peter hale #peter hale x reader #peter hale x y/n #derek hale x y/n #derek hale x you #imagine teen wolf

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wu-sisyphus-gang · 3 years

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Motion Sickness Chapter 38

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"How long are you going to follow me, you mute bitch?" With her teleportation and illusions there wasn't much I could do about it. We both knew if it came down to it I'd win, though. I'd shown that earlier. But she could escape anytime she wanted so I couldn't chase after her and end it. I could activate my semblance and smash her around with my strength or speed and win by standing still.

But only by standing still.

I walked past a billboard proclaiming Mercury Black, Emerald Sustrai, Cinder Fall, Hazel Rainart, and the Scorpion as wanted. My friends lived. I'd go spy on them later, when Neapolitan wasn't watching. Just to check up on them. Then I'd head my separate way.

She rapidly poked one finger through a loop in the other hand. "Fuck," I interpreted. She pointed at me. "Myself."

She clapped her hands giddily in her approval and her eyes switched colors.

"I need money," I muttered. "And a new scroll. I don't suppose you have any ideas."

She reached out into an illusion and retrieved a red brimmed hat.

"Ones that don't involve Ruby. I really seriously don't know where she is."

She looked like she didn't believe me, eyebrows furrowed.

"Well tough shit. Unless you want to go another round." She rubbed her chest where I hit her. "I'd be all for that."

She just frowned.

"Fair enough," I said. "Why do you even want to find Ruby?"

She drew a line over her throat and fondled the red and black hat.

"You want revenge for Roman Torchwick."

She nodded.

"Ruby didn't kill your boss." I dropped the harsh news on her.

She cocked her head sideways at me as we walked together through Mistral. It was… it was actually nice to have someone to talk to. Talk at, even. Otherwise I'd be alone with my thoughts and that just wouldn't be good for me. I was still wishy-washy on ending my own life.

I deserved it too. I wanted to die for what I'd done to my friends. I was the culprit, the thief in the night who robbed them of the opportunity of ever being 'together, together.'

At least they were together in death, now.

"A Grimm got him," she frowned up at me at that. "You can't even get revenge." I laughed. "You poor bitch. Not that I'm any better." Who was I supposed to kill in my hunt for vengeance now? Me. And believe me I was thinking of ways of getting to that son of a bitch. Unfortunately he was running out of friends.

An alien goddess had control over my mind. I was little more than a puppet under the right circumstances. I suppose if I had been like a puppet, all uncoordinated, Ren and Nora might have had a chance at subduing me. Instead I'd acted more or less fluid. That was a little scarier. Or a lot.

She smashed one fist into the other.

"If you were going to kill me you would have done it back at the bar. Don't act. You can't pull it off. Not while I'm awake and I assure you I'll be on my guard while sleeping. You won't get it done then either, not with my aura level."

She gave me an adorable pout. Her pink lips pressed together and out. Her pink and brown hair flowing over her shoulders.

"I know how you feel. I need revenge against Cinder. You know her? Cinder Fall?"

Her grin stretched.

"Don't tell me you want to kill her too? Did she get your boss killed? Set him up?"

She nodded.

"That's as good as killing him, I suppose. I think we may be able to help each other. Ruby really didn't kill him. Ruby doesn't have it in her to kill somebody. She always goes out of her way to avoid it."

She frowned and pointed at me.

"She's not like me. I'm a murderous asshole."

She shook her head indicating I'd guessed wrong and pointed at me again.

"What about me?"

She rotated one finger next to her head.

"I am crazy. Don't even get me started. If nothing else I'm suicidally insane. And that doesn't even get to these bugs in my eyes."

She pantomimed doing a line of hyper. Pinching one side of her nose and breathing in.

"I'm not on anything. I'm just fucked up."

She touched the tips of opposite forefingers together.

"What's that mean? It's not the same thing."

We walked in two-sided silence for a few minutes down a rainy street.

"You know where somebody with a loose moral compass can make some money around here relatively fast?"

She pointed a thumb over her shoulder back at Malachite's bar.

"Yeah, I sorta burned that bridge. And it can't involve Don Corneo. I had him tortured. Killed a bunch of his men, too."

Her smile widened looking up at me.

"Oh is that how you get your jollies?"

She just grinned up at me.

"Well I suppose we could just do official huntsman work. That's always lucrative."

She pointed a finger between us.

"Yeah I thought you were following me. That makes it an us. Keep up. Plus I just might be your best shot at murdering Fall. I almost fuckin' had her. And I might know where she's headed next."

She looked at me in surprise.

"Yep. Her and Black, too. Fought them relatively recently."

She put a hand to her mouth and silently laughed at me.

"Yeah they lived. Go ahead and giggle. Next time I'll get one of them. At least one of them. Well, Cinder has the powers of the spring maiden now. It might be even harder than before."

She gave me a confused look. Hell, who was she going to tell? She was… easy to talk to besides. I wasn't sure if it was the muteness but it might be.

"It's a whole thing. Ancient powers passed along person to person. Myths and legends. It's fucking bullshit is what it is. Girls only club. So maybe you could get in on that action."

She silently snorted, full of doubt. A little air escaping her nose.

"It's true. You can be the one to fight her and find out the hard way or you can take my word for it. She's even more dangerous now. And she was already a heaping pile of it before. I surprised her yesterday and I'm only getting stronger from what I've seen but she just added a big helping of power to herself."

She pointed at herself then smashed one fist into her open palm to indicate violence.

"Could you beat her?"

She nodded. Letting me know I'd guessed right.

"Maybe. Maybe before but probably not now. You'd be in serious trouble. I'd be in serious trouble." I let that sink in, I was able to beat this ice-cream girl and if I was not able to beat Cinder that only meant she wouldn't be able to either.

She made a complicated series of gestures.

"I didn't get that. But it doesn't matter, does it?"

She just frowned at me and I strode forward. She was practically jogging to keep up and I had no intention of slowing down.

The relic jingled by my side as I walked.

"You know maybe it can involve Don Corneo. You up for stealing from a mob boss? It might involve torture and death. I could use someone with your talents."

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Some broken limbs and I learned the news (Neapolitan had clapped at that). Don Corneo was holed up in his mansion with a whole lot of guards and probably a whole lot of money. Evidently he hadn't taken being tortured very well.

Go figure.

Neapolitan or just Neo was working beside me and honestly it felt good to have somebody watching my back, even if they were criminal scum. Which, I mean, beggars couldn't be choosers from their glass houses.

I needed a pseudonym. I could hardly keep calling myself Jaune Arc even though my weapon and face would be recognizable. I needed a haircut and makeover and a new name. I had to hide from my friends as much as it bit at me.

I was lucky they hadn't reported me to the police. The wounds on Nora and Ren's bodies would be unmistakable as coming from my weapon.

More importantly I needed the money to do all that. I was a long ways away from hopping on a horse and riding out to Merlot's laboratory, as much as I may want to. Instead I needed to stay in the city for a while.

That meant laying low and coming up with a heist. I needed money. Enough that I didn't have to worry about it for a long time.

I was struggling to come up with a new name for myself. That was always the hardest part. Names. I thought that as I broke one of Don Corneo's lackeys' fingers.

Neo and I had him tied down in a hotel room on the lower levels. It was dirt cheap and nobody would ask any questions. Especially if we left no body behind.

He screamed into a gag and it came out muffled. Nickel was the name we managed to get out of him.

"Shshsh." I told him. "You're going to tell me the security details on Don Corneo's mansion or I'm going to break every last bone in your body. If you scream I'll hurt you even more than that. Are we clear? Everything goes well and you get to walk on out of here. You might have to find a new boss but that doesn't really matter compared to your life, does it?"

He seemed to realize I was actually waiting for a response and gave a slow shake of his head. I nodded at Neo and she pulled out the gag.

"Now, what's the security look like?"

"He's going to kill you for this, he's going to-"

Neo gave a lecherous grin and stabbed him through the foot. Who was this guy fooling? He didn't even have aura. There was no way the Don cared about him a Lien. Not that we cared considering we were planning to rob him blind. She covered his mouth with the other hand, not that we really needed to down here per se, and looked him in the eye.

Her gaze flickered out like a hungry lizard's tongue to meet his eyes and devour all of the pain therein.

"Boy you don't even have aura. I can fix that for you. Unlock your aura and make it all go away." He was older than me, probably by a few years. Might be twenty-one, twenty-two. I watched him consider it. Aura was a game changer. A kid like him had to know what it meant, what it could mean. It'd mean a pay raise if nothing else. It meant increased survivability. It meant the power to fight back against those dastardly huntsmen.

"I can make the pain go away too. It'll heal you right up, even your broken fingers." They were tied behind his back. Nice and easy within snapping distance. "What's it going to be, my man."

"Fuck you, I ain't your man."

I broke another one of his fingers. Neo stuffed the gag back in his mouth while he screamed.

"We're not making much headway with this one. Might have to kill him and grab a fresh one. Start over." I said it clinically to Neo. Her eyes went wide at the thought of the violence. I even thought maybe the tips of her breasts were protruding more than before from the excitement. She gave a silent laugh and I hoped it was just my imagination. For my part I didn't have a carnage boner.

A murder erection I distinctly did not have. I wasn't a sadist. Just a pragmatist.

I had to admit there was a bit of an endorphin rush at the thought of snapping this guy's neck, though. With Neo's semblance we'd just walked up and grabbed him from the mansion and we'd walked away, under the cover of an illusion.

Suddenly I had some symptoms come at me and I blinked hard at the tactile sensation of bugs in my eyes until they stopped. Nerves firing which shouldn't have been.

"I'm thinking maybe we just hammer the place. Go all in and kill everyone in our way," I said. "Your thoughts, Neapolitan?"

She stamped a foot.

"Beg your pardon, I meant Neo." I hadn't but she seemed content to insist on it now that I'd figured it out. I took it as a good sign.

"M-m-m. M-m-m." Came from under the gag.

"Sorry, do you have friends in there? Some buddies perhaps?"

Neo pulled the gag out of his mouth. Nickel spat on the floor, very much not in our directions. He didn't want another broken finger was what that told me.

"You'll never make it like that. The Don has a safe room. A panic vault. You'll never get in and get what you want that way."

"And you've telling us this now because…"

"I want a cut. He's got millions stashed away. A-and I want my aura unlocked... And I walk free."

So that's how it is. Money talks, money talks. Apparently louder than broken bones could.

"Tell me about this panic room."

"It's got Titania walls and big electric locks."

"What kind?"

"The fuck should I know? It's like you see in bank vaults though. His office is in there. Or at least it is now they moved it from the second floor. He's been paranoid. There's been talk."

"Talk about how somebody got to him." I nodded. I put my face in his. "Somebody did. I'm going to do it again."

"It was you. It was you at the Honey Bee Inn." His brown eyes went wide.

"Maybe. Tell me about the mansion."

"It's built with choke points in mind. And places we're supposed to go to to lay down fire if there's an assault. It's all built around this central courtyard, too. It has mines in the walls, explosives at every corridor. They can be remotely activated by the Don. The whole place is booby-trapped. It’s supposed to be huntsman proof.”

“Nothing is actually huntsman proof."

He shrugged but the fact he was panting hard ruined the illusion of calm. "Couldn't say."

"Talk to me about the patrols you were on.”

“They’re fairly strict about it. Somebody will have noticed I’m gone, even. Every hour on the hour and through the center courtyard. Around the building, too.”

“How many?”

“A hundred of us at a given time, maybe."

A hundred could be a problem. Especially if they had proper choke points and the right hardware. Hard light weapons or magnetically accelerated rifles were huntsman level. There were also electric weapons which I was sure could find Neo, invisible or not. I'd seen Neptune use one. An explosion could also take me down. Limit was good but I wasn't invincible.

"Aura?"

"Some of us have it, some of us don't. The Don hasn't been in a position to be picky about his men. Not with his empire crumbling under pressure to the Malachites."

I leaned back and folded my arms. I exchanged looks with Neo. She flickered in and out of the visible spectrum and warbled a hand.

"Might be too many to just walk in to. Plus the explosives. They gonna be a problem for you?"

She waved her hand again.

"Samesies," I grunted.

I had him walk me through the layout of the place in enough detail that I was able to draw a map of the first and second floor. The panic office was on the bottom floor. A big, heavy thing like that couldn't be above ground.

Neo gave me a pleading look and I nodded. She walked behind Nickel and she bent down like she was going to untie him. Giving him one last shred of hope before she snapped up and slit his throat. I watched her take extreme pleasure in doing it.

She shuddered with the living corpse as his lifeblood drained soundlessly onto the floor. She looked ecstatic in the company of death. A low narrow smile on her lips.

It was clear to me. I just needed to give her lots of targets. It seemed like it had been a long time since she was able to indulge in such things. Heists. Murder. All of it. Money must trickle. The blood must flow.

Most importantly I needed to keep her focused on Cinder rather than Ruby. I think the message was starting to sink in but she could relapse. Besides, I wanted Cinder to die and another body wouldn't hurt.

I just needed to make sure she didn't run out of her little pleasures and it seemed to me like I'd have a loyal ally. Underneath it all it seemed like she was just lonely and scared. Especially without her boss. I think there was a part of her that liked taking orders.

And weren't we all like all that? I was like that without Ruby for one. I wasn't sure she would approve of this but she probably didn't approve of me murdering our friends either so there was that.

Neo didn't seem so bad. A bit of a sadist but hey, me too. There was a part of me that took sick pleasure in bringing ruin to my enemies. There was a sideways joy in delivering a boot to their faces.

And my friends… if I ever saw them again they'd have to understand. I did what I had to to find out about Merlot… this… my father. I had so many memories. Like visiting Shion. We're they all fake? I had to learn more about myself. If I had to shake hands with a few demons to make it happen then big fucking whoop.

Neo looked at the blood on her stiletto and wiped it off on the Nickel's clothes.

I could work with this. I could live with this. I just needed to throw away my pride.

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-WG

#neapolitan #Jaune Arc #Rwby #ff7 #ffvii #motion sickness #war of the roses #white rose #whiterose #whiteknight #white knight #lancaster #ruby rose x jaune arc x weiss schnee

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corinthbayrpg · 3 years

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NAME. Naida Kastellanos (Penelope) AGE & BIRTH DATE. 3000+ & Unknown GENDER & PRONOUNS. Female & She/her SPECIES. Rift OCCUPATION. Professor at the University FACE CLAIM. Hafsanur Sancaktutan

BIOGRAPHY

(tw murder, death, gore) She had been a queen once, though she is certain that no one remembers her for it. Wily Odysseus had made a fool of her story, and from her life a legend had been formed, pressing her bones like a flower and crushing them between pages in the inky silhouette of a quiet woman, something to aspire towards: the most loyal of wives. Hers was a story of a woman who waited, against temptation and in the face of death and fear— Penelope the weaver, synonymous with loyalty.

Before anything else, she had been a princess, the royal daughter of Periboea, a naiad, and king Icarius of Sparta. Her value had been overlooked then as well, when her father had her cast into the sea for the grievous crime of not being born a son. He had forgotten however, that water was her birthright and while he would have seen her drown she instead was saved from the jaws of sea monsters, brought ashore by waterfowl. This was an omen, if there were any, and he took her back in his arms and named her Penelope, after the ducks, and she became his favourite.

You’re clever, they’d say as she grew older. So often was the mantra spoken that it felt less like a compliment, and more like an insistence— she was clever, because she could be nothing else. Smart, but nothing special to look at, this was the fate of Helen’s homely cousin— known for weaving and being clever, and in the end, being entirely devoted to her husband. She had grown up in a world that was lush and wonderful, albeit lonely, she had always been an unusual girl, with the soul of something ancient and a spirit that mirrored the sea of which she had been cast into. These things made impressions on a body, they were not so easily shaken off. While Helen shone, she found friendship in her maids, her confidants and sources of information— but above all, her friends.

When it came time for her to be married, it was an affair that had called upon many suitors; she was a princess of Sparta after all, and it was games that had been used to select the husband for her. It was Odysseus who had won the race that her father set out, a mortal man from Ithaca and a friend of Hermes, who was considered to be clever as well. Odysseus, who had competed for Helen’s hand, and had desperately wanted to win her cousin. Penelope, observant and meek, saw his eager competition for what it was: an attempt for the second best prize. Despite their circumstance, he was compelling to the young woman, and it made sense to her that he was the favourite of the gods. He was the sort of person who could tell anyone anything, to have crowds eat out of the palm of his hands. Intelligent in the same ways that she was, but infinitely bolder with his speech, he was able to manipulate those around him in ways that she had not yet learned how, and he was a story teller like none other.

He was kind to her, and they were friends, but she loved him as well— he pretended to love her back. Odysseus wanted to take her to Ithaca and her father didn’t want that, but she simply found it humorous that a man who once thrown her into the Aegean now pretended to care. It was the transfer of her fortune that concerned him more than the location of his daughter; she realized much later, but she still left with her husband, sailing away to the island that she would soon call home.

Unhappy and alone in Ithaca, she had only her maids and very little authority over her new home, and then, her son Telemachus was born. A year passed and Odysseus had to go to Troy to help Menelaus, despite his best efforts to avoid his oath. Spreading rumours that he had gone mad, but they were disproved by Palamedes, who had followed Odysseus out into the fields that he tilled with salt, and put Telemachus into his path. Odysseus would never allow harm to come to his child, and he altered the direction of the plow— an action unfitting of a madman, and thus he was recruited off to war.

Ten years passed. She waited and was fed by news of the war, of the heroes within it, but was trapped in her own kingdom, a queen left alone. Tales of a wooden horse filled with soldiers, of slaughter, of Troy fallen, Greek ships setting sail for home: and then— nothing. Empty harbours, quiet. Rumours of his adventures came then, of gods and monsters, and always of how her husband was fighting to return to her loving, wifely arms.

In time, she became ruler of Ithaca and the vast estates. She was good at it, and learned from scratch to keep inventories and rulings. She entertained Athena then, and other powerful guests, who kept her company as she stood in wait. At first, it felt lovely, to be surrounded by a goddess and in her favour, and to hold the attention of others. She’d grow Odysseus’ estates and his wealth, make him proud of her, a worthy second prize. She was busy, but she was alone, praying for his return or for a speedy death from the gods. Rumours came, and went and then, silence.

The suitors came, despite how the prophets foretold their doom. Zeus thundered, even Athena watched with a scowl on her godly face. They whispered words of how they worshipped Penelope, a foolish act that she saw through— she had already had her son and had little interest in having another, and she was no beauty, hardly a Helen. She knew that it was her treasure trove and kingdom that they desired, not her, despite the youth of some of her suitors, they were after the wealthy widow, and perhaps, they imagined, she would die first and from her wealth they could find themselves having the pick of any young and beautiful princess in the land. Too clever for them to conceal such intentions, Penelope endured as they lied, as they came like vultures to a dead cow, circling her home as hope of Odysseus’ return began to dwindle out.

They began to gorge themselves on the wealth of Ithaca, and as her guests, Penelope was obliged to host them. She was meant to despise this behaviour, to hate how they used her, but instead, she enjoyed the attention at first— to hear them raise their voices in praise of her beauty, her intelligence— to hear them lie in song about how they swooned at the sight of her. She was taught to endure, and so for her sake, and in the hopes that odysseus would return, she pretended to view their wooing favourably, keeping them from violence, holding out hope until she was absolutely certain her husband would never come home.

More years passed, and the suitors began to grow restless. Had it not of been for the threat of the furies, her own son would have ended her life to save his own inheritance. She thought of ways to prolong her fate, to postpone the day of her eventual decision among the suitors. Despite stories of god-like intervention, the idea had been Penelope’s alone: she was to weave a shroud for her father-in-law Laertes, and it would be unthinkable to choose a new husband until it was finished.

All day she wove, with the assistance of twelve trusted maidservants, those who had been with her their entire lives, raised on the island as her friends. She loved them, for their chatter and their singing, for their youthfulness and devotion. Her most trusted eyes and ears of the palace, who helped her over the course of three years to weave and then in the dead of night by candlelight, pick apart the weaving in quiet.

They were like sisters, as they whispered and worked, and Penelope cherished them and their secrets, with dark circles under their eyes in morning they upheld loyalty to their queen. One of them in the end, was responsible for her betrayal— they were girls after all, who had fallen to the greedy hands of the suitors in an effort to keep Penelope unscathed, some were harmed, others fell in love, and it was that of which spelled out the end. Her most trusted secret was spilled, and the suitors broke into her quarters at night, finding her there with her twelve maids, picking away at the threads of the shroud. Fooled by a woman, it was the worst of her crimes, and under threat she had to promise to finish it as quickly as possible, and then she would be made to choose a husband.

It had been twenty years since Odysseus had voyaged off towards Troy, but he eventually returned— dressed as a beggar, fooling all those that were too young to have known him now, but Penelope knew, she recognized the barrel chest and the glint in his eye, and allowed the deception to play its course. In the end, it had been her idea, to have the suitors perform a feat with Odysseus’ own bow, to shoot an arrow through twelve axe handles in a circle, a feat that only her husband himself had once completed. The prize was to be herself, and despite the fact that all the stories and myth said she was bamboozled by the disguise, clever Penelope had seen it all, and she knew well enough what was to happen.

Odysseus had won the challenge, and had tasked all the women to be locked into a chamber while he and Telemachus slaughtered all of the suitors. Blood filled the halls, furniture broke and stained under the weight of their bodies and when it was all finished, Odysseus ordered the disloyal maids to wash the palace clean of the brains and gore, tugging them from Penelope’s hands, as they were tasked with cleaning away what remained of men of whom had been lovers and companions of them. When the task had been complete, Odysseus ordered Telemachus to hew the maids, but he decided instead to hang them in a row.

By the time Penelope had made her way to the docks where all twelve of them hung, it was too late. They were to be made examples of, for the way that they had given the suitors the time of day, how they had entertained the men and were disloyal to their master, Odysseus. Penelope wept, but tears do not bring the dead back to life. And so her heart hardened against her husband, of whom she had waited loyally for, the course of twenty years had passed and she no longer held love for him— not in the same way that she had before, not when she heard of his adventures, of his infidelity. In his arms he told her of how much he missed and longed for her, even in the arms of goddesses; and she told tales of how she had shed a river’s worth of tears in his absence. Both wonderful liars, they believed their falsehoods and took them as truths.

As soon as he had come, Odysseus left once again. He lied under his breath, saying that it was the will of the gods that he go and purify his soul after the slaughter of the suitors, and she had watched him go, leaving vengeful ghosts and vengeful relatives to have their will with her. Great goddess Athena no longer visited, despite how she had been a comfort through long, lonely years. It was much later, that she realized that she was already dead. Telemachus grew older, and she did not, her face was free of lines and youthful, as though she was trapped in amber. To the gods she begged the question, what had happened to her? What had stolen away her girls, her husband and had painted the halls of her home in blood but had not touched her? It was Athena who held her cheek and combed out her hair, murmuring by her ear that she was free; she belonged to no man— she had been blessed by the goddess herself to have eternity. The exact moment of her death remained a mystery, and she was glad for that, and for the gifts that the goddess had given her: she could create beautiful worlds around her, and she could travel through space without physically moving, and she would live, unblemished, forever.

It was later that she learned of the power of the shroud, folded up in a trunk and not thought about for years, it held power now, despite how the hem remained unfinished at the weaving was picked and messy at the end. It could be used to reach for souls that had passed, to fish them free from the rivers of the Underworld and to bring them back to her. It was not Odysseus that she sought, not when she knew he would be guzzling wine in Elysium: he had always been the favourite of the gods, but those that had once been loyal to her. They turned their backs to her efforts, running away on feet that never touched the ground— her hung girls, with toes still twitching.

And so, Penelope began her efforts into immortality. Years passed by and she was content to learn and live, to find beauty and discover the truth of stories she had heard only pieces of while cast away on her island, set to wait. She fell in love with the man who slayed Odysseus, and with Telegonus she had a son named Italus, who gave his name to Italy. When he died, she reached not into her shroud to free him of Elysium— instead, she let him pass on peacefully, to find paradise that her own death and blessings denied her of. Bound yet again to walk and roam the earth, she learned of the fate of her cousin, of the beautiful Helen she had been so envious in life, how the world had hammered her story into that of a monster, and hung her for crimes without trial. She saw everything, clever Penelope with her eyes wide open; she saw the tales of women who had been vilified simply for being human. History was a knife in the gut of womanhood, and despite the fact that she was prone to tears and to falling apart, she hardened further.

Athena had blessed her and she would not throw such a blessing away, Penelope found love again and again, through the centuries— it was humanity that compelled her the most, pure souls that bore no damage and would do little harm. Each ended in horror, leaving her hulled out, reaching into her shroud for a hand that did not reach back: the dead could be returned to the world of the living, but it was a feat she did not do without permission. And so she has roamed and so she has been, for thousands of years, a woman stuck in time. Her story echoes now in a thousand forms that are no longer her own, her voice has been suffocated by the oppressive feats of her former husband, and she was been reduced to a weaver, to the pinnacle of fidelity. She has wandered into Corinth now, with eyes open and heart recently broken: magic has once again been affected and she is seeking a place to occupy herself, to put use to her skills and her knowledge.

PERSONALITY

+ intelligent, compassionate, loyal - nostalgic, withdrawn, timid

PLAYED BY Sam. EST. She/Her.

#rift #female #penelope #hafsanur sancaktutan

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theteenygemthief · 3 years

Text

The Things That Weigh On You: Chapter 3

Rating: Explicit | Word Count: 4077 | My Hero Academia | HawksxOCxDabi

Warning: The Things That Weigh On You features Sexual Themes, Violence, Drug abuse and touches on topics of personal trauma, mental illness and assault. Reader discretion is advised.

Credits: The image of Hawks is a screenclip from the anime.

It’s just as easy to justify being a hero when everyone excuses your actions with the amount of glamour and power that comes with it. The media covers all of your triumphs and failures. You get endorsements. It’s almost second to being an A-List celebrity. But what happens when hero’s fall and suddenly, the justification leaves? What happens when ones own inflated ego gets the better of them and how do they bounce back from the rubble?

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The rise and fall...

He had been watching from a distance in interest as their fingers interlaced with one and other. A curious yet dissatisfied glint shimmered in his eye as he leaned against a telephone pole with feigned relaxation. The bullet train that had arrived earlier had long since sped away and the announcer had been making her afternoon calls. His lips pulled into a thin line and he could feel himself bristling as his brows pinched together. His downy mess of sleeked back blond hair moved with the breeze as crimson feathers were near difficult to keep in one place. When he went to his old prison, he had crept in through the window, seeing that she had still kept his room clean, still setting his favorite books out to read as if he were going to be studying for some big exam. He saw how she tried to keep things the way she thought he liked them. She did the same things for her little sister, despite her leaving some time ago. As if it would be enough to bring both of them back.

Edith, had always referred to him as though he were a little brother.

For a while, he ran with it to make her happy. He didn't mind. Hell, he even thought it would be a great idea for him to stop in after four years to show how big of a name he had made for himself. Make his supposed adopted older sister proud of him by saying “Hey look, I'm a big deal now!”, and what a better way to do that than showing up as a surprise guest at a gala? If only he'd known the extent of his emotions when he saw her standing at the balcony with a glass of champagne in hand. Her Crimson eyes staring over the veranda in deep thought as the light from the inside reflected off of the rhinestones of her midnight colored mermaid gown. Her lips had been painted red for the occasion and her arms had been covered in lace opera gloves. Open caplet sleeves and a bare neck and single ponytail adorned with pearls and crystals gave a regal air about her. Almost like the stories about the queens or goddesses they would read together when they were young.

If he could laugh at himself.

The man he had seen her with had been far beneath her league with his leopard print suit and tacky alligator shoes. Yet her calm and calculated demeanor with him at least meant that she tolerated the bastard. He wasn't hardly a notable hero to say the least. Just some schmuck with an extension quirk and nothing more. Someone who was prone to get handsy if one wasn't too careful, and yet he felt that she had completely and totally forgotten about him. So he decided it would be best to dip out without a hello, stop in and say hi to little sister Daphne and be on his merry way.

As it turned out, the man had been a renowned serial killer and it had put Edith in a kill or be killed situation, where she had to resort to defensive execution. The police wouldn't have gotten there on time to find her alive. Pictures from that same night spread all over the news over the span of three days. “Susanoo Kills” or “The Fall of Fukuoka's Battle Queen”. The paparazzi went into a complete and utter frenzy attempting to obtain details of the incident and why a pro hero resorted to murder rather than call the police. She was a small town hero who lived under his old handlers big name. And after it all died down, he found himself watching as her little sister left. Leaving her to come back hours later to find a note that was left on the dining room table. And he would watch as she left the note, pour herself a drink, come back to it and read it again, leave it on the table, repeat. Until finally, watching her had become too painful.

She fell as he rose.

And he wasn't sure if he was supposed to feel dirty or proud.

His thoughts were pulled back to the present as he watched Dabi pull Edith close and he straightened. He could feel his irises shrink to thin rings as he beheld the sight of the taller of the two claiming her lips and watching her melt into them. He could feel his breath catch and his heart race as he proceeded to stand and watch intently at the two. His distance wouldn't blow his cover to say the least but the ache that he felt, the sting was beyond what he had been used to.

“Ed...” He whimpered. “Ed, what are you doing?”

The winged hero Hawks could feel his face twist into a tight grimace as his teeth clenched. Every fiber of his being told him to look away, yet he still stared at the two in the distance. Watching. Waiting for something to happen. He knew Edith was a person of her own convictions. He was fully aware of her need for independence. And if this situation was forced, she would make a move. She would punch him. Stab him. Do something. Anything.

Nothing.

And as he watched as another bullet train pulled in, he could see the intimacy in both of their eyes. The intimacy that he so desperately desired. He continued to watch as Edith turned, only to be pulled into what seemed to be another earth shattering kiss. He felt himself grow week as her knees buckled and Dabi entered the train with her, there was need in her eyes as she looked at him and Hawks continued to feel an ever growing twinge of jealousy. Wishing that he was the one who could do that.

But he digressed.

He wouldn't get into something like that for a while. Instead, he would bide his time and see where the path ahead would lead him.

She was pushed into the bathroom stall as greedy fingers trailed beneath the hem of her shorts. Hungry kisses consumed her throat and collar bone as a familiar click could be heard from behind her companion. His eyes were ablaze with a bestial need that longed to be quelled from their earlier encounter in the shower and the low rumble in his chest only signified the urgency of his desire. She parted her lips to say something, yet all words were chased away when his lips crashed against hers in a searing kiss. Soon, Edith's jacket would be stripped away. Her black turtleneck crop top would be nudged over her breasts with the black lace bralette she wore beneath, and she would be fighting everything in her power not to make a sound as Dabi slowly sunk between her thighs. Her back arched as his tongue slowly dragged along her inner folds, teasing her entrance for just a brief moment as he balanced her quaking body on his shoulders. His voice emitted vibrations against her clit as he growled, encircling his tongue around the nerve.

“Look at you,” He teased. “You are trying so hard not to come undone. You have fallen so far and yet you still worry so much about your image, little girl.”

Edith's eyes flared with mild irritation as her fingers dug into her companions scalp. She knew he was making attempts to get to her. See what made her angry. She knew the psychological evaluations that he had performed on her during their conversations were far from judgmental, but they had still been irritating. He wanted her as more than just a casual fuck buddy and she wouldn't deny that the feeling was mutual. Their relationship had been developing for a while, and he had challenged her. She still feared the day he would decide it wasn't worth coming back. Decided that she wasn't good enough or that she wasn't worth his salt.

Her thighs tightened around his head as she hummed lowly, pressing her hips tighter against his maw and seething as he accepted her.

“Not all of us are born without expectations, Cinders.” She mocked, bucking her hips harder and throwing her head back as his teeth grazed the nerve again.

He wasn't going to correct Edith on the expectations bit. There was no point. He wasn't going to tell her about his childhood or his father. He had made a point of reinventing himself to set himself apart from it all. So instead, he rolled with her punches in this instant. Grinning to himself about how adorable he felt her momentary ignorance was. She would eventually learn about his past, yet that would come about at a later time. Depending on whether or not the situation required it. Dabi pulled away as he felt her quake against him, knowing full well how close she was and set her back on the floor, steadying her against him as he knelt down to pull her panties and shorts back up. He with held a teasing laugh as she whined at him to continue and looked up at her with a raised brow. Did she really think she was going to be let off the hook for her assumptions that easily? He slowly rose and towered over her, sealing his lips against hers for a brief moment so that she may taste herself.

“I don't plan on finishing until we get back to your place, fangs.” He crooned. “Consider it punishment for mouthing off to me.”

The house had nearly been encased in a shroud of darkness as Dabi and Edith crept in through the back. Doing their best to avoid attention from prying eyes. During their trek, it had been obvious that someone had been following them. The occasional flurry of fabric or movement in the corner of their eye had set them on edge, and the fire starter of the two knew that he couldn't return home for the evening. Edith did not mind at all.

“Relax.” She reassured.

“I can't.” he argued.

He stared out her bedroom window as she lit candles in the background. He'd been watching her from the reflection of the glass and doing his best to keep it a secret. Her bedroom had been minimalist to say the least. She kept a coffee table in the middle of the space to entertain guests or close herself off from the world. He wondered how often she closed herself off. How many bad days or weeks she'd had when he wasn't around? He couldn't focus on what they had been doing earlier knowing that she had let her fall get the better of her. Sometimes, he wondered if she felt any conviction to being a villain. Vigilante had been a strong maybe for her. She didn't have it in her to blatantly kill anyone based on their conversations. She was still too much of a goodie good. As much as it annoyed him, it was sweet that she tried. His eyes wandered down to the garden, watching as a couple took the back road home in deep conversation. Had he been able to live a normal life, that might have been him and the woman behind him. The idea of the two walking home arm in arm, deep in conversation on the way home from the grocery store, possibly expecting a child on the way as they hypothesized the quirks they would have was a fantasy that could only afford to be lived in a dream.

Villains didn't get that reality.

SMACK!

The sound in and of itself was enough to start a small fire in the bedroom as he jumped and spun on his heal. His hands cast aflame while his cool blue irises glowed with white hot embers. He had been ready to kill in that moment, only to find Edith's hand curled into a fist around a rolled up KEIRA magazine. Her fists had paled along with the rest of her body as if she had seen a ghost.

“What happened?”

“I had to kill a roach.”

Suddenly, all of the tension he had been holding on to had disappeared as he saw his former fuck buddy, now lover, standing like an actual god of war over the corpse of a roach.And the sound that escaped from him had been far from human.

He spun around in circles as he moved to and fro in his swivel chair. His agency had been calling him several times to receive updates regarding his entry into the League of Villains and it was safe to report that no one had suspected him of anything. At least, so long as he was able to maintain that lie. One person in particular had recognized him and she had been standing behind one of their lieutenants in the shower as her eyes met his. He recalled how the curve of her hips had barely stuck out from behind Dabi as he tucked her protectively in the corner. Something told him that if the Fallen Hero Susanoo had been co-mingling with the league, he would have orders to kill her. He knew just how fast his quirk worked compared to hers, and just how intimately it would effect her if she dared to turn it on him. Then he would have no choice.

His fingers rapped on the edge of the computer desk as he tried to make sense of everything. Tried to figure out how to remove her from the equation in a way where she wouldn't get hurt. Otherwise, he would have to make a decision as to whether or not it was worth being a superhero himself.

“You seem rather transfixed on the files in front of you, boy.”

There it was. The voice he had been dreading all night. He turned to face a man who had been an idol to him since he was small and smiled gleefully, acting as though he had been greeting an old friend as he slowly stood. In comparison the man stood at about six foot four and the fire that he donned on his suit could easily be used as a torch in a dark cave. Perhaps an ignition for a gas pocket if he trekked deep enough. But in that moment, his cold blue eyes were trained on reading him. Looking for a hole that he might have failed to cover up as he looked around the room. His spiked red hair added a menacing touch to his demeanor as he towered over him with folded arms.

“I'm just planning my movements four steps ahead, Endeavor.” He replied, coolly. “With this type of organization you can never be too careful. The information they have is valuable and could potentially cost thousands of people their lives.”

Personally he wished he could turn his back on those people. He didn't understand what the point was in protecting a public who treated you like a damn movie star when you did absolutely nothing for them in their daily lives. Matter of fact, his public face was nothing more than a farce to keep up appearances for the top ten. It may as well have been a pissing match to see who was better at being a self righteous asshole.

“I noticed that you've been to Fukuoka, recently.”

“I have.”

There was a long pause that had run his blood cold. He knew what the other pro hero was about to ask as he did his best to keep his mask on.

“Did you pay her a visit?”

Hawks could feel his stomach turn and twist as the trick question fell upon him. He had to think of an answer as quickly as possible to avoid suspicion, or some sort of confused reaction. He didn't want to bring up what he saw by the train station earlier in the day, nor did he want to confide in a man who could incinerate him right then and there.

“Who?” He asked, keeping a stupid smile on his face.

If playing the fool could fan the flames of rage on a man who only very recently took the top of the hero's roster any more than it did in that instant, he would make it a personal hobby of his. Endeavor was so easy to manipulate in to a state of frustration, and like a jenga tower, his composure was so easy to set off balance. Unfortunately, the smaller of the two men facing eachother was not so easily swayed. He could keep a clueless smile on his face while knowing exactly what he was doing in the midst of danger, all the while his opponent would reveal their hand in thinking he wouldn't use it to his advantage.

So as the flame hero threatened to torch the entire room to ashes, the avian took note of the fire extinguisher in reach.

“Takeda Nonoka's grand daughter, you stupid little...” Endeavor trailed off in a flurry of growls and curses at the smaller man.

“Don't remember her.” Hawks said blankly.

“Fallen hero, Susanoo.”

“Nope.”

He really didn't know why they continued referring to her as Fallen Hero. She had stated in several interviews that she had killed in self defense. He watched as reporters hounded scoop after scoop on the matter, given that the serial killer she had executed was also a superhero.

“Bah!” The older man finally grunted, leaving without another word.

Hawks listened carefully as his stomps disappeared down the hall and waited at least an hour before leaving.

He needed a reprieve.

Edith slowly wandered up and down the aisle, collecting ingredients for a stew she had learned how to make when she was young. It was simple, nothing too big and was easy to send Dabi home with while leaving enough for leftovers. Hopefully no one would try and take his food. She remembered sending him home with lamb curry one evening and received a message more than two hours later regarding him having to make it again himself. And when she hadn't responded he had called her ten minutes later to apologize for not eating the food she'd sent him home with. And now, he was waiting for her to get back home with the ingredients and asking if she wanted him to prep anything, or clean any important dishes. It was a temporary paradise that she could live with.

Temporary being till the moment he went back on his words.

“Don't forget the eggplant.” came a voice.

“Oh believe me.” She said without thinking. “Grams would kill me if I forgot the eggplant.”

“And the potatoes?”

“Already at home.”

She turned to the person speaking to her with a smile, only for it to fade into the abyss. A woman just a few inches taller stood beside her as long wavy black hair fell over her shoulders. Her white trench coat hung down to the middle of her calves as black heeled boots lifted her heel just an inch off the ground. Brown eyes studied her intently as she peered past black spectacles at the older of the two. Her calm demeanor ensuring that no one would pay attention unless the younger of the two made a scene. The basket in Edith's arm nearly fell and as she moved to catch it, she looked up again and the woman was gone. Every muscle in her body had tensed. She wasn't sure how to react and her mind had filled with questions. Questions that would follow her until she sat down for dinner.

She knew Dabi had been watching her. Picking her apart like some science experiment in a psyche ward that continued to make the same mistakes over and over. Perhaps the issue was her. Maybe she was the reason why so many people went away. And if that was the case, how could she change it? How could she turn herself around and make herself more likable? Were there likable villains? No, if there were, they would be endorsed by big corporations and given assignments like heroes were. Her fingers clutched at the table cloth as her mind pondered why a woman she hadn't seen in years had suddenly been showing up after so long. Why would she appear at a grocery store of all places and how did she possibly know that Edith was there? These sorts of things raised questions as to what she needed all of her life. Or if being a villain was a birthright of hers.

“Fuck.” She cursed.

Her hands covered her face as she tried to hold back all the emotions that had been hitting her in that instant. Another hand had gently landed on her arm and though she didn't dare herself to look up, at least some semblance of relief washed over a part of her.

Screams had echoed throughout the building as bodies littered the ruins of her hometown. Bomb sirens sounded off, she had been hiding beneath what remained of a fallen building and her heart had been racing. Crashing and explosions could be heard in the distance as she was currently one of the standing few. A ringing noise in her ear caught her attention as laughter mixed in with the sounds of someone screaming. Fire and ash entered her view and her heart began to race. She couldn't use her quirk. She had no weapons or anything to defend herself against her unknown adversary. And she grit her teeth as she felt helpless with the whole situation.

“Look out!” Cried a voice.

Edith barely had time to think as a force sped into her side, lifting her out of harms way and stealing her breath altogether. Shock had begun to overtake her. She was only a small time superhero who had little experience with life or death situations. She knew the reality of it all, she understood, but she had never had to deal with a situation so intense.

“I'm here.” The same voice reassured. “Just hold on to me, okay?”

Her breath began to settle as she nodded and looked up, the sun flashing in her eyes.

She was whimpering in her sleep again. It was times like these where he felt helpless and incapable of doing anything. When she had returned, something had very obviously shaken her and he knew it. You can't shake quarts without chipping at its roots. And his lips drew into a thin line as to what exactly her roots were. He knew that her mother was a supervillain who expressly showed little interest in her development, though nothing that her grandmother couldn't make up for. However, unlike him, her trauma came at a later date. A later time and even though she had decided to become a hero as a child, the psychological damage she had gone through was pretty apparent. As for the physical...well, based on her scars, he could see that she had barely been through the ringer. Yet there were still those who could sweet talk their way out of a situation or be a complete and total wise ass where it was inappropriate.

He guessed she did quite a deal of sweet talking.

His icy blue eyes landed on a discoloration on the back of her shoulder and his mind slowly tried to make sense of it. As he ran his thumb over the mark, he had found that the skin in the area had smoothed over and thickened just slightly over time. Not like a flesh wound, but like a burn scar. Dabi's eyes narrowed into slits.

“Was this the intent to punish or the means to kill?” he mused.

Sure, he'd seen the mark many times before. No one would even notice it just by a passing glance, and he had been certain that she'd forgotten all about it. He knew full well that he couldn't stop her from whatever decisions lay ahead. She would drink his blood and kick his ass with his own fire if he tried. But in the very least, he could dress the wounds and even stay beside her as she healed. That would at least be enough, wouldn't it?

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Chapters:

P-1, CH2, CH3

#bnha dabi #dabi x oc #bnha fanfiction #bnha oc #bnha keigo #bnha hawks #wing hero hawks #hawks x oc #bnha

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there-is-a-hero-in-all-of-us · 4 years

Text

Edelgard von Hrasvelg

Uhhhh hello

Welcome to my extended opinions on a fictional character that I don’t know if you heard of. Or if you expected to see this random person talk about. Months after release.

So Edelgard is my favorite character in Fire Emblem Three Houses, for months now she’s been called a tyrant, murder, some version of Hitler, etc.

This is something I have basically been going around asking about in great detail about because I do not get it.

But I remember this and maybe I can catch more disagreements here.

So takes of various temperatures coming right up.

My biggest pitfall when I have this conversation is I often find myself thinking of the opposition as “Anti-War/Violence” which can be reductive.

So let’s start with context see where we land and how much bias can be input in the simple set up for a thing.

The land is Fodlan, split into three territories Addrestia, Faerghus, and Leciester Alliance. Some of that is probably misspelled. The House Leaders are all heirs to thrones of the regions. They attend school at Garreg Mach which is run by the Church of Seiros which is set up to be the real power in the land. There is a system of nobility which prioritizes Crest. Crest are something you are born with based on bloodlines.

Uhh spoilers I guess?

So there is this Flame Emperor working with some people they seem to hate that do the equivalent of committing terrorist attacks on Garreg Mach while you’re there. Down with the Church and all that. Oh and the only other group to ever do that was like this old guy Lonato who seems to believe it was a false goddess and you got sent to put him down.

No blasphemy here.

Oh your protag is mercenary that works with your Dad, you both get roped into jobs at Garreg Mach and during one of the Flame Emperor attacks your Dad gets murdered by one of those people the Flame Emperor seems to have this weird “I hate my staff” relationships with.

(Yo imagine if I had clips and shit as evidence for this, no this is low budget just take my word for it fam)

So yeah terrorist attacks on the church, dead dad Flame Emperor guy no bueno.

Oh god oh no, they’re a student of yours. It’s Edelgard.

Bet you didn’t see that coming.

Edelgard is here to take down the false goddess and end the system of Crest!

Now if you’re a good egg who loves your students and you recruited them all and listened to a bulk of their supports you might come out more like me.

If you were like the fuck is a support I am here for gameplay not chit chat back to murder. You might be like what the fuck Edelgard you (your people) killed my Dad.

There is a third group that is like this Church is too down with this whole murder thing and I’m not with it, so I’ll go with Edelgard.

Oh and I guess all the people who are playing Blue Lions and Golden Deer count too. But like pffft a route with no choices is barely worth discussing. (Jk Azure Moon is second best written route)

Let’s take a step back, I previously mentioned being persuaded by supports.

So let’s talk about what we can learn about crest in the early game! So you’ve got Mercedes, sweet girl, she’s a healer, devout too. She and her mother were taken in by nobles and then kicked to the curb when her mother gave birth to a son born with a crest.

Well that feels slimy.

It has to get better though, let’s move on to Bernadetta.

She’s... anywhere from adorable and must be protected to oh my god you are the most annoying character ever what is wrong with you.

She doesn’t like interacting with people much, she mostly stays in her room. Why you ask? Why would anyone? Trauma friends. You see she has a crest and she made friends with one of those good for nothing crestless losers and her Dad was like “no talking to filth” and then uhhh proceeded to physically assault her only friend. And now she’s afraid to have them.

That didn’t feel better...

Everyone’s favorite flirt must be cool with crest? Sylvain! Instant joins your class if you play as the female protag because like why wouldn’t he, he’s a flirt, but what’s this? He is deeply insecure and flirts because he feels that all the relationships in his life are superficial because the people only care about his crest?

Marianne is such a sweet girl why does she seem down? Oh she has a crest, but she keeps it a secret? I thought this were the way to the high life? Oh people discriminate against her based on her crest being that of the “beast”.

I could keep going, but I think that covers a decent variety of examples

Oh wait! Let’s talk about the the main squeeze!

Edelgard!

She has a story too, oh she and 10 siblings were taken by the nobility against her fathers wishes where they were experimented on. Only she survived. Just so she could have another crest. And the people who did this? It was those guys she had that “I hate my staff” relationship with.

So at this point this student of mine is here standing against the biggest power in the country trying to destroy these crest and uproot the current nobility that at this point has proven to be... well, less than stellar.

But doing this starts a war...

This is about where things get pretty contentious.

Her actions will lead to change regardless of her victory or loss, people will most certainly die, is she wrong?

Well I guess that’s up to you.

But regardless of that I think it’s interesting how she is perceived. Like as a tyrant? Some variation of Hitler? Well her stated goal is to liberate Fodlan from the influence of the Church and allow humans to be in control of their fate. A land where the leaders are based on merit and who does and doesn’t have a crest.

Now if Fodlan superpower is the Church and they unite the others against Addrestia how can she be a tyrant when she doesn’t have full control...? I mean it seems like she”s more of a revolutionary if you will? A radical one at that.

And most times at this point people have made a few concessions. I understand why she did what she did, I just don’t agree with it.This is where I get a little on edge. You understand, but you disagree. Well, as you can see, herself and others are victims of the current system. When people have spoken out against it, they have been put down.You can argue the earlier group was violent and ready to fight, but there was no attempt to deescalate the situation. It was go and kill them from the jump.

You see wit the dependency on crest a system propped up and given weight by the church which is the core of power in the country there is no check.They have no reason to care or change the system that has put these people in the situations they are in.

Her direct challenge of that is the only way any change is able to begin.

I understand that violence is unsavory for a lot of people, that the death the war brings is a high price, but people were already dying because of the crest, it was just under the cover of the status quo. If we can create a future where people aren’t suffering because of something that they have no control over I think it’s worth fighting for instead of letting those in power, corrupt as they are continue to control the system that we seek relief from.

You can probably apply a modern lens at that last paragraph too if you think about it hard enough.

But yeah how does a character like this become the Hitler/Tyrant?

Goodness I haven’t even mentioned that the power of the Church is so great that she has to enlist the help of the people that she was tortured and experimented on by, the people that are the direct cause of the death of her siblings. That she openly hates them as much as the system she’s fighting to bring down but is powerless on her own. She states that once the war is done she will handle them next and find a person to rule over Fodlan in her place.

Which like giving up power once you’ve obtained isn’t very tyrannical.

#fire emblem #three houses #edelgard von hresvelg #post out of nowhere #tl;dr

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arahul-abyssia · 4 years

Text

The Endless Cycle

My second story for @starprincesshlc and @jklantern ’s Nintember event! This one sees another entry in story as ancient as a certain kingdom, but there’s... well, let’s say a few twists...

~~ Treasure, Sword, Adversity, Growth, Evil ~~

All his hard work was being undone right in front of him. As far as the eye could see, the storms were clearing and the waters were brightening, the mountains were becoming calm again and the trees were regaining all their bright colors. The day before, the shadowy miasmas that emanated from his fortress were spread from border to border across the kingdom; now, all that remained of them was a thin mist around the walls, and they were still visibly receding as the sun shone brighter and brighter. It was clear to him that his defeat was fast approaching.

Hmph. As if that’s at all surprising…

He was no mere would-be conqueror of the Kingdom of Hyrule; he was Ganondorf, one of a long series of incarnations of the ancient Curse of Demise, and it was his destiny to fight against and be defeated by one who bears the Spirit of the Hero and wields the Master Sword and one who carries the Blood of the Goddess. Such was their never ending cycle. Such was the way it always had been, was, and always would be.

It was not as though he had not tried to find an alternate route, but no creature can win against the hands of fate. He had tried to cast aside the shadows that lingered around him wherever he went, he had tried to guide away the monsters that watched him from the wilderness, following him in hardly-veiled secret and prostrating themselves before him when no civilized creature was looking, and he had tried to ignore the dark impulses within him that told him to bring destruction and ruin to the land.

He had tried, and he had failed. Eventually, he realized that it was no use trying to avoid his fate, and so set about casting his incarnation of terror upon Hyrule, so that a Hero and Princess may arise and bring his downfall. If he could not have peace in life, perhaps there was peace in death, or banishment, or being sealed away or turned to stone, or whatever his incarnation of defeat was to be.

To some extent, he regretted the problems he had caused. He knew firsthand the consequences of using tainted waters and having one’s home and shelter destroyed. Were things truly up to him, not one of his blights would ever have been manifested. But, fate and the Curse had other plans for him and the kingdom, and he could only hope that, after they brought his downfall, the Hero and Princess could make things right again.

The steadily loudening tapping of boots upon stone told him that his adversaries had passed every obstacle he had laid for them within the fortress and were now rapidly ascending the wholly unblocked spiraling stairwell that led to his room at the top of the highest tower.

In five… four… three… two… one…

With much unnecessary force, the door to the chamber burst open, revealing the two who were to be his end, their eyes filled with the fires of determination and quiet-yet-righteous fury. In the Hero’s hand, the legendary Master Sword, glowing with a power that could banish and strike down all evil that dared cross its path, and in the Princess’s hand, the mythical Bow of Light, glowing with a divine radiance that could pierce the shadows themselves.

“So, the saviors of Hyrule have finally arrived… to defeat the source of the evil that plagued your land, to bring about the return of peace and prosperity, to—”

An arrow of light grazed his shoulder, exploding into a gleam burst upon the wall behind him.

“Cut the crap, Ganondorf! We didn’t just march our way through your uninventive puzzles and rehashes of dungeon protectors for you to spew some fancy words about what we already know. Shut up and ready your weapons already so we can fight you and defeat you!”

Ganondorf closed his eyes and sighed. It seemed this Princess Zelda had not changed in the slightest. He had come across her once before, on a trip to the castle in the early days of his fall to the darkness. He did not remember the exact details of the event, but he remembered vividly that she did not care one bit to act like royalty, much less one who is said to hold divinity in her veins. Her gait was casual, her language was coarse, and she had nearly no respect for the norms of nobility. Though she cared for her subjects, no one would think her a princess if not for prior knowledge or her clothing.

“If that’s the way you want it, so be it.” He thrust his hands out to his sides, a double-ended trident materializing in his right and a long curved blade in his left, then moved into a fighting stance. Though he had no formal training whatsoever with one-handed wielding or dual-wielding, something told him that he would find no struggle in doing either.

The two heroes shifted their stances as well, and their battle began. The dark powers within him allowed Ganondorf to shift through the shadows in the room, throwing blasts of dark energy at his opponents between profanely empowered strikes of his weapons. However, their skills and coordination far outmatched his own, and within a short few minutes, he could feel their blows beginning to take their toll. He felt a change in his darkness, as though the curse itself demanded a change in his tactics and spells, and he moved to the room’s center, taking a defensive position and wreathing himself in shadows.

“It seems you two are quite powerful indeed. What a shame it is that we must fight…”

“If you’re so uninvested in this battle, why not just admit defeat now and make this a whole lot easier on all of us?”

Ganondorf began channeling dark energy into a great sphere of shadow. “Because fate does not work that way… I have no choice but to stand before you two as your enemy, in another incarnation of the eternal cycle. No Link, no Zelda, and no Ganon in all history could avoid their place in their incarnation, and each and every time, no matter what it put before the heroes, the darkness always fell to the light in a climactic final confrontation. Why should our story be any different?”

Zelda braced herself to dodge or deflect the attack.

“...It already is…”

This was enough to give them both pause. The dark warrior dismissed his spell and the princess loosened her posture as both turned to stare at the latter’s companion, his infamous silence broken.

“What do you mean ‘it already is’?”

“Our story… is very different… from the legends…” It was clear to Ganondorf that this Link was not accustomed to speaking longer thoughts or giving extended explanations. “Like… our bodies… we are not… what the legends… say we should be.”

The boy gestured at the three in the room. The dark wizard looked down at himself instinctually, realizing that the boy was right; in the legends, the Hero and Princess were Hylians, and Ganondorf a Gerudo, with flaming orange hair and skin tinted a sickly green by the evil within. But it was he who was Hylian now, with untouched dark skin and hair the color of the night sky, and his adversaries showed no signs of Hylian blood; the boy before him held the Master Sword in a scaled, clawed, webbed hand, a trademark trait of the Zora alongside the fish-like tail attached to each of their heads, and the girl glared at him down a beak that could only belong to a Rito, her bow held in hands that much resembled the feathers on her wings.

“And… the legends… have little technology… compared to now. Even the times of the Divine Beasts… we have so much more than them.” He turned his head to look out the window at the sprawling Kodai City, its staggering towers glowing with blue and orange lights. Even Ganondorf’s own fortress and tower incorporated some amount of the splendors of Sheikah technology.

But it doesn’t matter… It can’t matter… right?

“So what if things are a bit different from the legends? That doesn’t change the fact that there’s an evil person, right in front of us, that we need to defeat, so things can go back to normal! I’m getting tired of having to be ‘Zelda.’”

Ganondorf stared at the girl. If her name wasn’t actually Zelda, then that meant that—

“Don’t give me that look! I’ll bet your name isn’t even Ganondorf! Mine certainly isn’t ‘Zelda’, and his isn’t ‘Link’!”

The Princess was correct; he had taken the name as a sort of title when he realized what his purpose was, what the shadows of fate wished him to do. It hadn’t crossed his mind that the same would apply to the two sent to defeat him.

“Ugh… now that you’ve mentioned this, all I can think about is all the other stuff you’ve told me from those musty old books of yours. Wasn’t there something about a previous incarnation having the genders or roles all mixed up, or whatever?”

“Yes… one version of ‘Zelda’ was a prince, and his ‘Link’ was a girl. Another one had a Hero who only wielded the Bow, and the Princess held this Sword.”

“And no one talks about this?!”

“People don’t like to talk about the legends these days… they think it’s dwelling on the past…”

The dark wizard stared in awe as his adversaries discussed the history of the Curse, and the many apparent changes from the very first legends that far preceded his own oddities. If the Curse had deteriorated so, then perhaps…

Perhaps I do have a chance…

The two turned their attention back to Ganondorf. Perhaps they had come to the decision on their own, or perhaps they saw some change in his eyes or posture, but they began to approach him, Link slowly extending his hand. “So, Ganondorf… would you like to return to the light?”

“Obviously you won’t be forgiven immediately. There’ll be a long list of reparations for you to do, since, you know, you blighted every single region in the kingdom and caused harm to countless innocents, and those reparations mean a lot paperwork for me, which I really don’t want to do…” she stopped for a moment and took a deep breath, “...but I was taught to try to avoid solutions that involve violence and murder, so if that’s the trade off, I am all for it.”

Maybe it was as though they had pierced and torn down a veil in his mind, or perhaps flipped a switch he thought broken beyond repair, but he, almost without thinking, stretched out his own hand to the Hero’s, prepared to join them in a life of light.

And then a burning pain filled his chest.

Surprise and panic filled the eyes of the two before him, the Hero’s hand faltering. As a fiery haze began to build in his vision, he was dimly aware of the wreathing shadows beginning to writhe, not only covering his flesh and clothing, but passing into them, too. He collapsed to his knees, dimly aware of Zelda shouting something at Link and him responding frantically in return, but in far too much agony to properly comprehend it.

You will not escape your destiny.

The voice that filled his mind was old and cruel, like the very concept of darkness and evil given a voice. He tried to shut it out, but it wriggled its way through every tiny weakness in his defenses, growing ever louder and drowning out the shouts of the youths. Now on all fours, he lifted his hand toward them one final and desperate time, then collapsed as a golden light, brighter than anything he had ever seen, shone before him, and the haze and voice gave way to utter silence.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When his senses returned to him, Ganondorf found himself lying prone on the stone floor of the chamber, his head aching. After a few seconds, he attempted to push himself up, but he found that his limbs felt far weaker than they had only moments ago. He tried and failed several more times before other hands, two far smoother than his and two far softer, pulled him into an upright position on his knees. Slowly, he looked up, and found two familiar faces staring back at him, their mouths twisted in bright smiles that anyone could mistake for mocking glee.

“What… what… just happened to me?”

“Well, if the dark stormy figure outside is anything to go by, I’d say we just expelled the shadows from you.”

“...Stormy figure?”

The two proceeded to duck under his arms and lift him to a proper upright posture, supporting him on their shoulders, then guide him onto the tower’s balcony. Above it was a great storm made of darkness, shadows, and evil he could feel permeating the air. A black whirlwind twisted down from it to the field below, where at its base stood a humanoid form with glowing red eyes, glaring up at the three in the tower with nothing but hatred and malice.

Ganondorf looked between the two. “But… how?”

At this, Link and Zelda merely smiled and pointed to his hand. On each of the three was a fading golden triangle composed of three smaller ones.

“The power of the treasure of the Golden Goddesses... the legendary Triforce… it can work miracles when united, and directed, toward a common goal…”

“Most think the power is lost, buuut the versions of us seem to have a knack for stumbling across it again and again and again.”

The former dark wizard looked from his hands, to those of the heroes, to the heroes’ faces, to the storm, to his hands again. He felt like his mind was trying to process this sudden turn of events at high speed while he couldn't even think at normal speeds, and having weakened limbs and a lingering headache was far from helpful.

“Alright, rest here, you’re way too weak to help us in this fight right now--Link, come on, we have an ancient evil to defeat, once and for all!”

And as the two vaulted off the balcony and glided to the field below, Ganondorf--no, that was no longer his name or title--the newly purified man could not help but let his face drift into a peaceful, genuine smile.

#the legend of zelda #tloz #nintember #my writing

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snowpeawritings · 4 years

Text

12. Konohana Sakuya

Philemon seems to enjoy seeing his Wild Cards live on with their lives…

insp.

Persona 4 Golden X FeMC!Reader

> . . .

4/30/SAT-Early morning | Yasogami High School

Walking towards the school gate, you and Izanami had to pause from all the pink. The figure looked like someone from that Phoenix Featherman series but they have a thing for cherry blossoms. The pink person fidgeted behind the school gates, having to jump and yelp when a student goes past their body.

Oh, and Yukiko is there.

“Very pink.” Izanami remarked after a beat of silence.

“No kidding.” You remarked back. Deciding that standing there forever would do you no good, you walked over to Yukiko, who was trying to play off having your Persona fidget like it was normal. Once she sees you, she visibly relaxes as she lets out a nervous smile.

“Good morning...” She murmured, never meeting your eyes.

You nodded in her direction. “Feeling better?”

“Y-Yeah... I’ll be coming to school again, so... That’ll be nice.”

She still hasn’t met your eyes, deciding to keep her gaze on her shoes. “I caused everyone some real trouble... I’m sorry.”

A beat, before she shook her head. “No... 'sorry’ isn’t quite right...”

Yukiko finally lifted her head, her eyes meeting yours as she smiled fully. “What I mean to say is, thank you.”

A smile crept up on your lips, returning her smile. Yukiko then goes on how her mother has recovered and that the maids have been busy trying to help with the inn. She continues on to say that her head was clearer now after the incident, though she wasn’t expecting the consequence that comes with...

“I’m surprised your not freaking out more about them.” You said to her, cocking your head to the pink figure.

Her cheeks blushed a little. “To be honest... I fainted around 3 separate times when I saw her.”

You blinked. “Ah.”

“A-Anyway, what about you?” She said, trying to force down her embarrassment. “I think I saw that you have the same thing as I do.”

You furrowed your brows before looking behind you. Izanami wasn’t behind you as usual. You whipped your head around, only to blink at your Persona being clung onto by Yukikio’s Persona. By the looks of things, the pink figure calmed down a lot.

"Um..." Izanami started when she noticed you and Yukiko's stares. "I just started talking to her then she... Well, she at least calmed down."

"That's odd," Yukiko said, "Konohana Sakuya has only calmed down when she's with me."

Despite the long name, the pink Persona hadn't even noticed her user calling out her name. She continues to clutch Izanami's arm, going so far as to bury her helmet (helmet face?) on her shoulder. The sight was cute but you remembered that you were still loitering outside the school gate.

"I'll see you later, Yukiko." You said to her. "I might be late for class."

Her eyes widened. "Oh! Right, I-I'll see you soon!"

You walked over to the two Personas, grabbing Sakuya's arms and attempting to pry them off of Izanami's arm. "Please let go."

She only whimpered, clutching the arm tighter to the point Izanami was wincing. "B-But I only just met her!"

"P-Please, Konohana Sakuya!" Yukiko pleaded, getting her Persona's hand. "______-san will be late!"

She whimpered even more, burying herself further into Izanami that the petal shield that surrounded Sakuya dug her sides. While you two were trying to pry your Personas off from each other, the sight of Yasogami's popular girl Yukiko and the transfer student waving the air around them was a spectacle that the onlookers had walked on so early in the morning.

4/30/SAT-After school | Yasogami High School

"... I see. A bottom."

The resounding smack that resonated in the school roof top couldn't be louder.

"You can't ignore the truth, you yellow-suited hag!"

Another smack, this time with the yelp of Jiraiya and another insult from Tomoe. Beside you, Izanami let out an aggravated sigh before standing up to deal with them, leaving you, Yosuke, and Chie to talk about Yukiko and the team's current predicament. Chie and Yosuke sat on the roof's seating area while you stood up, leaning against the bench next to Yosuke.

As you three were still chatting, footsteps that were coming closer distracted you. You turned your head to see Yukiko with two bowls of instant soba in each hand. Konohana Sakuya was with her, still cowering behind her as she comically staggered behind Yukiko's back. However, once she peeked her head out behind Yukiko's hair, she perked up immediately when she spotted Izanami.

The Goddess who invites, whom was still busy trying to diffuse the fight, suddenly got pushed over by an unseen, pink force before trying to balance herself on her knife shoes. It was amusing to watch, seeing the usually calm Persona flailing her arms and her knife shoes threatening to slice the others before centering herself upright with Sakuya clinging to her back.

"... What's the female equivalent for simp?"

"I will have your head, frog."

"Um..." Yukiko said nervously. "S-Sorry to keep you waiting. The soba is yours, right Chie?"

Chie nodded eagerly, getting the soba from Yukiko's hand. "Thanks! Ooooh, that smells so good..."

She took one more long whiff. "These instant noodles are just the thing to help me through club... How much longer do I have to wait on this?"

"It still needs a few minutes." Yukiko chastised before sitting down next to Chie.

With her noodles now safe in her lap, Chie turned her head towards you and Yosuke. "So why're we here...? Oh yeah, we were going to ask Yukiko what happened."

Beside you, Yosuke winced slightly before sucking in a breath. "Yukiko-san, I hate to bring up stuff you'd rather not think about... But I need to ask you again. Did you recall anything about when you got kidnapped?"

The mood was immediately ruined. Even Tomoe and Jiraiya ceased their fighting as Konohana Sakuya let herself down from Izanami's back.

The girl in question had set her head down, eyebrows furrowed. "No..."

"I guess it wouldn't be that easy..." Izanami huffed.

"I thought I might remember something if I let it sit for a while, but as time passes, it only gets hazier..."

From behind you, Izanami had stepped closer with Konohana Sakuya following suite. The pink Persona had stepped closer to her user, patting her back before Yukiko continued.

"I think... The doorbell rang at the entrance... And someone called for me..."

However, Yukiko shook her head before staring straight at your group. "But when I woke up after that, I was already in the castle... I'm sorry."

Chie fretted immediately. "No need to apologize. But does that mean her visitor is the culprit!?"

"I don't know..." Yosuke said. "If it's true, then that's one daring criminal. What kind of killer would ring the doorbell?"

"An experienced one, most likely." Tomoe added. "However... With that in mind, have the authorities have any leads?"

Yosuke shook his head at her. "The police are probably looking for witnesses... but I don't think we can expect much from them. Heh, as if the culprit wore bright yellow clothes at the scene of the crime."

Jiraiya snickered as he nudged Yosuke's shoulder. "Be careful who you say that to."

Tomoe's gaze locked on behind Yosuke's head. Even with the helmet, you were sure she was glaring daggers at the teen.

Oblivious to her Persona's wish for violence, Chie sunk her head down. "I wonder why whoever it is would do stuff like this."

"We won't know until we confront 'em ourselves..." Yosuke replied to her. "But we can be sure of one thing. It's no coincidence that people keep ending up in that place."

He continued, eyes firm with anger. "Someone on our side is definitely kidnapping them and throwing them into the TV. It's murder, all right..."

Murder was a heavy word but you never would have guessed that you would be the one to almost see it firsthand. The gravity of the situation that Yukiko could've died was something that kept you wide awake.

Remembering Saki and how devastated Yosuke must feel, you were sure he shared the same feelings.

"Oh yeah!" Yosuke's shout brought you back from your reverie. He cocked his head to you as he grinned at Yukiko. "This guy and me are gonna catch the culprit ourselves! The police are out of their league on this case, but we got Personas."

Not wanting to have Yosuke lose his wind, you nodded at the girls. "We'll catch the guy. Don't worry, Yukiko."

Chie raised her fist in the air. "I wanna help too! I can't believe someone would throw people into a place like that. I'm gonna sock whoever's doing this!"

"Chie..." Yukiko breathed out.

With that, you, Yosuke and Chie tried to figure out what could be the killer's next move as well as possible motives. In you discussion, you pointed out that the one thing that stood out from Yukiko's story is how she willingly opened the door for the killer without any hesitation. Even if the killer was daring, like Yosuke said, it still wouldn't make sense for Yukiko to just open the door like that for everyone.

You three were so into your discussion that you didn't hear Yukiko's: "... Let me help too."

The three of you looked over to her in surprise. Her expression showed no hesitance.

"I want to know why this is happening. Especially if someone hates me so much they want to kill me. I don't want to run away from myself anymore."

And with her small speech done, Yosuke jumped down from his seat and smiled. "Alright! Then let's all work together and catch this asshole!"

Seeing the determined faces of your newfound group, you felt as though you can do anything. Even if the group is sort of messy, you wouldn't rather have anyone else for team members.

"Oh yeah, we never really introduced our Personas, huh?" Chie said suddenly. "Well, I'll start. This is Tomoe, my Persona!"

Tomoe stood rigidly, like a proud warrior. "I look forward to working with you, Yukiko-san."

"Introductions huh?" Yosuke said. "Well, alright... This is my Persona, Jiraiya. If he causes you any trouble, please don't direct it onto me."

His Persona scoffed nudging Yosuke with his foot as he laid back against the air. "I'm a part of you. You share just as much of my feelings you know."

"And this is Izanami." You said, gesturing over to your Persona. "Though, I don't think we need to introduce ourselves after that fiasco at the school gate."

"Oh hoh?" Jiraiya drawled out, suddenly placing himself in between you an Izanami, his arm across Izanami's shoulders. "And what, pray tell, happened while I was gone, hm?"

"Don't take it the wrong way." Izanami said sternly pushing off Jiraiya's arm. "Konohana Sakuya is just... Extremely shy."

With her name being uttered, the pink Persona immediately hid behind Yukiko's back. The petals that surrounded her shivered from how much she was shaking.

Jiraiya was indifferent at the sight. "Still. Simp."

Yukiko stared at your Personas in both awe and fear. How were you three already so accustomed to floating beings?

"Um..." Yukiko started. "This is Konohana Sakuya... A-As you can see... She's quite shy."

Sakuya could only let out a meek 'Hello." before sinking back into Yukiko. Suddenly you sensed deja vu.

"Well, you don't need to feel shy around us!" Yosuke said, trying to coax Sakuya from Yukiko. "Sure, Jiraiya might be a prick, but he means well."

"Shy girls are a turn-off." Jiraiya said quickly. "No offense but I'm pretty sure she'll get frightened by a falling leaf if it happens."

Yosuke glared at him. "Don't be a dick!"

Sakuya shuffled from behind before raising her head so that it's visible. "Um... I won't mind at all. A-And I hope that I won't become a hindrance in your mission...!"

Even her voice sounded so shy, despite it being a hollowed version of Yukiko's voice. You looked over to Izanami, a knowing look on your face.

She sighed before stepping in front of Yukiko. "We're happy to have you, Konohana Sakuya. But please don't let your shyness affect the battles ahead."

With that, Sakuya sat upright and nodded. "I-I won't let you down!"

"Siiiiiiimp."

"I will skin you alive."

"I know you may need to rest some more Yukiko but we have to go to the TV world again." You said to her. "There's someone we want you to meet."

"Oh..." She said, slightly nervous at the thought of going back inside. "Okay..."

"Before that though..." Yosuke intervened. He looked down at the bowls that were still covered. "Aren't those done by now?"

Chie gasped before getting her chopsticks and removing the lid. "I almost forgot! Oohhh this smells so good when it's done!"

Yukiko followed, her own instant fried tofu wafting in the air before she grabbed her chopsticks and took a bite. Before they could even take another bite, four presences were felt behind them. It was like something was weighing down on their backs which prompted them to look behind.

"How peculiar!" Izanami gasped out from behind Tomoe, looking at their instant food. "I never knew udon could be carried around so easily!"

"What sort of sorcery is this?" Tomoe questioned behind Yukiko. "When I looked before they were dry as leaves! Now they're soft!?"

Jiraiya whistled. "Damn, I never knew anyone could get udon so easily. This takes me back."

Even Konohana Sakuya removed herself from Yukiko as she stared at Chie's bowl. "It's almost like magic...!"

Both Chie and Yukiko trembled nervously against the deities awe-stricken stares and questions over the magic of instant noodles. You and Yosuke looked at each other. While the scent did made you hungry, you don't think you'll be able to trade this scene for a bite of noodles.

So instead, you and Yosuke sat back down on his spot as you two watched as the girls try to fend off the Personas from touching their food. Maybe the trip can wait.

> . . .

Persona Time

While you and Yukiko were busy talking, Izanami took the initiative to talk to the pink Persona. She knows what it feels like to have no idea on how you were brought to this world, especially when you have memories of a different life. If her theory was right, then maybe this Persona could be a deity in a past life.

Besides, it’s nice to have another Persona to talk to.

“Hello there.” Izanami greeted her, bowing her head slightly. The other Persona jumped, her petals fluttering before she turned her helmet head towards Izanami.

The goddess raised her head up before trying to soften her voice. “I am Izanami. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

She responded with a small nod.

Izanami faltered slightly. “Well... what is your name then?”

She buried her helmet in her hands, petals ruffling. “Ko-Konohana... Sakuya...”

Despite the shaky voice, the name brought a sense of familiarity to the major goddess. She tried to remember the times she was a goddess, recounting the times with her husband. But yet... she recalls nothing. She let out a sigh before looking over to the still embarrassed Sakuya.

“You do not have to be shy around us.” Izanami comforted her. “We are... what humans call ‘in the same boat’. So you don’t have to feel like you’re out of place.”

While Izanami was speaking, Sakuya slowly lowered her hands, her yellow eyes seeing Izanami in a new light. A light that for some reason she feels she’s safer when she’s with her. A hazy part of her memory surfaced, a time that she was a goddess and not the Konohana Sakuya she is today.

She vows to stay by Izanami’s side.

#snowpea writes #series #persona #persona 4 #persona 4 imagines #start of a new fool #yosuke hanamura #yosuke hanamura x reader #yosuke hanamura imagines #kanji tatsumi x reader #kanji tatsumi #kanji tatsumi imagines #teddie #teddie x reader #teddie imagines #kuma #soanf

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vgckwb · 4 years

Text

P5R: Rebel Girl (A FeMC Story/P5R Rework) Chapter 12: Hungry for Answers

The door flung open at the office of Doctor Takuto Maruki. The doctor was surprised. “Um, sorry sir, but I can’t allow anyone in here without an appointment.”

Shinichi grabbed him by the lapels. “What did you do to my daughter?!”

“P-pardon?” said Maruki.

“ANSWER ME!” Shinichi demanded.

“Um, you’re going to have to be more specific,” Maruki said. “I’ve seen a number of patients, and generally speaking about half of them are female.”

Shinichi flared his nostrils. “Sumire Yoshizawa. What did you do to Sumire Yoshizawa?”

“Oh, you’re Yoshizawa’s…” Maruki said. “First off, I’d like to offer my condolences about what happened to her sister.”

“If you thought that you wouldn’t have done what you did” Shinichi said.

Maruki remained calm. “I know it might seem hard for you to understand, but try thinking about it from her perspective. Her sister is gone, and she blames herself. She felt like if she could be Kasumi she’d feel better. So I allowed her to do just that.”

This did not calm down Shinichi. “THINK ABOUT HOW I FEEL?!” he yelled. He began to cry. “I’ve already lost one daughter. I don’t need to lose another.”

Maruki realized what he was saying. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I guess there’s still more I need to learn.”

Shinichi saw Maruki humble himself. He looked him over and saw that he was genuinely disappointed. He let go of Maruki. “You’re lucky she seems to be back to her old self.” He left.

Maruki pondered what had just happened. “I guess something must have snapped her out of it. I wonder what that could be. Still, he does have a point. If I want to create a world that eliminates suffering, I need to be able to understand the broader picture. A grief-stricken father like that doesn’t deserve to feel like he’s lost more. I should write this down.”

“Don’t bother” said a voice. Maruki turned and saw a cloaked figure. “Your world will not exist anyway.”

Maruki just smiled. “Man, what is it with people barging into my office today? I’m sorry, but I’m not going to stop my work just because you told me so.”

“Very well,” said the cloaked figure. They drew their rapier and vanished. During their absence, the figure went over to the stadium, slipped into the Metaverse, and sliced the lab in two, causing it to crumble. They reappeared in front of Maruki.

Maruki looked hurt. “What did you do?”

The figure smirked. “I just chopped down your desires is all.” The figure walked out of the office.

Maruki collected himself after they left. He seemed to be struggling at first, but managed to get his strength back. “Whew. That was unusual. Hmmm. I wonder if I could ask her about that. Maybe when the time is right.”

Meanwhile, Ren was standing in front of the school gate. Morgana got a little restless. “Man, you’re dedicated,” he said. “You got here before anyone else.”

Ren smiled. “Well I just wanted to make sure Kasumi was OK,” she said. That, and that dream I had last night is still in my mind. It felt weird. She looked back at Morgana. “Hey Morgana, what do you think you’d look like as a human?”

Morgana was surprised. “Well… I’m not sure exactly. But I know I would be dashing, but not too dashing that I wouldn’t be approachable.”

“I see,” Ren said. She thought about how Morgana appeared in her dream. It sounded accurate to his description. She smirked.

Suddenly, someone hit Ren. She was confused. “Ah, I’m sorry,” said the man. Ren looked up and saw Shinichi.

“It’s fine,” Ren said.

“The bump aside, what are you doing here?” Shinichi asked. “Waiting for a friend?”

Ren got a little nervous. “Um, yeah. Her name is Yoshizawa. She collapsed yesterday. I just wanted to make sure she was alright.”

Shinichi’s eyes widened. “Oh… I’m her father actually.” Ren was taken aback. “You must you Amamiya. The nurse told me about you. Thank you for helping my daughter. ...Unfortunately, her situation got worse this morning.” Ren was worried. Shinichi smiled. “She’ll be fine. However, she will have to stay home for a few days. I’m here to inform the school, among other things.”

“I see,” Ren said.

Shinichi placed his hands on her shoulders. Ren looked up. “She’ll be delighted to know that you’re concerned about her. I’m sure that information will help her get better faster.” He let go.

Ren smiled, bowed, and said “Thank you sir. I hope Kasumi gets better soon.”

Shinichi stood there for a few moments. “Thank you,” he said.

“Well, I guess I should get to class,” Ren said. “I guess I’ll see you around.”

“Seeya,” Shinichi said. Ren headed into the building. “I should let her tell her herself.” Shinichi made his way into the school.

Throughout the day, Ren’s mind occasionally wandered to thoughts of Kasumi. Sure, her dad said she would get better, but she couldn’t help but worry. She took a breath and tried to relax. During break, she was wandering the halls and heard some truly nasty things.

“Hey, that honor student’s missing classes again today huh.”

“Man, she’s so lucky.”

“Totally. I wish I could skip school without anything bad happening.”

“I know right? Talk about special treatment.”

“How awful!” Morgana said. “Don’t they know she’s sick? It makes me so mad, right Ren?” No answer. “...Ren?”

“Stop,” Ren said.

“Huh?” Morgana replied.

“Just stop” Ren repeated.

“Hey are you listening to me?” Morgana said.

“Stop talking about her like that!” Ren quietly screamed. It appeared that someone was listening, as the world around her stopped. Ren looked around, panicking.

“Well well” said the cloaked figure “How serendipitous.”

Ren immediately went on the defensive. “What do you want?” she asked.

The figure giggled. “The same as you. I want to protect her from all of this. So here.” She offered an apple to Ren. “Take it.”

“Thanks, but you know where I stand,” Ren said.

“Oh right” the figure said. “I guess that was before for you. Meanwhile, I was just born today. Ahahahahahaha!”

Ren was confused. He regained her composure. “Why are you doing this? Why are you so interested in me?”

The figure stopped laughing. They approached Ren. “I’m doing this to stand up to those in power. To show that they can’t control us and do whatever they want.”

Ren was shaken. “Well, I agree with that sentiment, murder and destruction is the wrong way to go about it.”

“And being calm and rational will get you somewhere?” the figure asked. “Please, the only way any of you would fight back without violence is by using the metaverse.”

Ren remained steadfast. “While we have been using it to punish Kamoshida and save Shiho, I believe that we are offering a beacon of hope to those who wouldn’t be able to stand up to anyone else otherwise!”

“That’s cute. But sooner or later, order returns to those in power” the figure said. “The only way for meaningful change to occur is with pure chaos.”

“I disagree,” Ren said. “While some chaos is necessary, what you’re advocating for is similar to what we have. It’s just another system where the powerful abuse the weak. What you’re doing is changing who’s in power.”

The figure giggled. “I can see what she likes about you. And to be honest, I think I’m starting to like you too.”

Ren was confused. “Who is this ‘she’ you keep mentioning?”

“Don’t worry about that for now,” the figure said. “For now, I want to make a deal.”

“We already have a deal,” Ren said.

“I know, but another deal” the figure responded. “I love seeing you stick to your convictions. So, if you manage to hold true to them by the time we reach our dual, I will surrender fully.” Ren was shocked. “However, if there’s even a one percent chance that throughout these trials I can convince you that I may be right in some way and I defeat you in battle, you will become a servant of chaos and work with me.”

Ren. wasn’t sure what this person was doing, but Ren wasn’t one to give up on her convictions. “Deal” she said.

“Ah! Excellent!” the figure said. “I’m going to enjoy breaking you.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Ren said.

“Oooooooo. Someone’s confident” the figure said. “But I like that about you.”

Just as they were about to leave, Ren called out “Wait! Who ARE you exactly?”

“Ah, yes,” the figure said. “We did strike a deal. I guess I owe you that much. Hm. My name is Eris. Goddess of discord and disharmony. One day, I hope to turn you into a soldier of chaos.”

I am thou... Thou art I… Thou hast acquired a new vow...

It shall become the wings of rebellion that breaketh thy chains of captivity.

With the birth of the Hunger Persona I have obtained the winds of blessing that shall lead to freedom and new power.

Hunger-Eris: Rank 1

“Well, seeya” Eris said, vanishing.

The world started to move again. Ren looked around, wondering what just happened. “Ren?” Morgana asked. “Are you OK?”

“Did you see that?” Ren said.

“See what?” Morgana replied.

Ren was shocked. “Don’t tell me you stopped with the rest of the world.”

“Huh? What are you talking about?” Morgana wondered.

Ren noticed she was getting some looks. “Sorry” she said. She rushed to someplace private. She explained what happened with Eris.

“Huh. That IS interesting”Morgana said. “So we have a name, and an upgraded deal.”

“Right,” Ren said.

“We need to tell the others about this,” Morgana said.

After school, they met up on the rooftop with Ann and Ryuji. “WHAT?!” Ryuji yelled.

“Calm down Ryuji!” Ann said.

“But didn’t you hear that?” Ryuji said.

“I did. And it’ll be the last thing I hear if you continue to be loud” Ann stated.

“S-sorry” Ryuji said. “It’s just… I don’t want Ren to submit to this fiend.”

“What do you take me for?” Ren said. “I have no intention of wavering on my convictions.”

“Well, yeah, but…” Ryuji said. “Ugh, sorry. You’re right.”

Ren smiled. “It’s OK. I get it.”

“Still, if she’s confident that you would, I’d be careful” Ann said.

“Lady Ann’s right!” Morgana said. “We can’t take this lying down. We have to prove ourselves now more than ever!”

Ann giggled. “You got it Lord Morgana!”

“L-Lord Morgana? Morgana said, shocked.

“Isn’t he right, Lord Ryuji? Lady Ren?” Ann asked

“Oh” Morgana said, disappointed.

“Uhh, I don’t get all of this Lord and Lady talk,” Ryuji said, “but I’m all for proving our convictions. So let’s send that calling card!”

“Actually,” Ren said. Everyone turned to her. “I kind of want to wait a bit.”

“Huh” Ryuji said. “Well it's your call. Just know we have a time limit to uphold.”

Ren nodded. “You’re right. I'll make sure we do it before then.”

“Well, I don’t blame you” Ann said.”After what happened, I don’t know if I would have had the strength to do something like that either. Let’s go get something to eat.”

“Well, actually…” Ryuji said. “I have to run errands for my mom today. So I guess not sending the calling card worked out. You two go on ahead.”

Ann smiled. “Thanks Ryuji.”

“No problem” Ryuji replied. The four thieves left the rooftop and headed out of school.

#persona 5 #persona 5 royal #persona fanfiction #p5r #p5 femc #p5r rework #p5 rework #p5 #FeMC #female ren #ren amamiya #Yoshizawa's parents #dr maruki #morgana #ann takamaki #Ryuji Sakamoto

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lotornomiko · 4 years

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A Random Valkyrie Profile WIP

Been trying to revive my muse...mostly just randomly spinning from project to project, trying to find something to inspire me long enough to write more than one chapter...and then in the midst of that, got this idea in my head...but I’ve struggled with it, just cause it could go nowhere and just be a pointless one shot, OR! I could make it the prologue to an attempted caged bird rewrite. Problem is I can’t decide either way, so it’s stalled for now...but I like the short bit of what I do have, so want to share...Lezalenne centric, am now eyeballing my RUAli fic to see if I can’t write the next chapter of Sacrificial Maiden...

It’s mostly work safe unless you don’t like written scenes of death and gore....though those massacred were all faceless entities...no actual character death thus far from the games...

It started out as a whisper, one lone voice standing out among the thousands of Creation, that muted whimper of pain a plea so foreign and strange a sound amid the peace and tranquility that had come to perpetuate the many realms. That unwelcome buzzing in her head was joined by a second, and then a third, a suffering so immense and overwhelming, it had nearly staggered the Goddess in place, the hurt there a summons Lenneth could not turn away from or ignore.

That suffering would only worsen, the whispers becoming louder and louder, as more screamed out their pain. The rising agony of so many more then rolled through her, the damage done these people twisting, taken to new levels of a depravity that only heightened the desperation felt. It was a herald of the dying in fact, that tortured wail an unending chain of suffering, each soul that did finally die, replaced by another, and another, their pain this litany of fear, of confusion and anger, even of hate. Her heart broke with that acknowledgment, with the betrayal expressed by those slain. They felt alone and abandoned, some even damning the Goddess with the last of their breath.

She’d shoulder at least part of the blame, the atrocities committed this day, having been done in her name, every last body felled one piece of a message personally crafted for her heart alone. The ringing of it echoed through her, piercing deep inside her own soul, and Lenneth’s wings just couldn’t fly fast enough. Not to stop the massacre at hand, the Goddess arriving to a scene straight out of a nightmare, the horror that greeted her eyes, a far too fitting match for the agony screaming within.

There was so many dead. So many broken bodies strewn about, blood and other things splattered across the pavement. She’d close her eyes to such a sight, trembling with a barely suppressed urge to do her own brand of screaming, this seemingly senseless brutality an abomination that had no right or reason in her universe. It was blasphemy against everything she had ever believed in, and broke truce with the promise that Lenneth herself had bestowed upon the people of this world. It made a mockery of the paradise she had granted, this one sliver of evil twisting everything into something horrible and profane, this perversion both intolerable and unacceptable, a cerulean blue gaze snapping open, that color blazing with the righteous fury of not just the Goddess, but of all those who had been killed on this day.

It was an anger that boiled in the depths of that cerulean gaze, all the pain and the suffering combined with the horror of this senseless havoc, and the utterly lost and confused feelings of the how and the why of such a thing having been allowed to have happened at all. With it came guilt, a part of this her fault for allowing the chance of, her kindness twisted and spat back at her feet, this violence a proverbial slap from the one whose hand had set off on this murderous rampage.

She trembled with the force of her many emotions, both hers and that of those who had died, Lenneth understanding that this massacre made a mockery of her compassion. Of it, and of her mercy, the second chance she had given, the human who had been awarded such consideration in the first place, done so for a favor once owed. A debt that had needed to be repaid, the world saved through the actions of a selfish and utterly lustful man.

A blasphemer by birth, this was just the latest, and most unforgivable of his crimes. This cruel blood shed and torture an act she could not let him slide on, not now, not ever again. The monster that he had proven to be, the true colors that he had yet again shown, a single act of good could no longer free him of the fate that only the most depraved of sinners earned, that soul of his not bound for the heavens or for the hell, but instead set to be removed so completely from the cycle of rebirth so as to have him face the ruin that was the entirety of his being’s utter annihilation. Only then would this world, her paradise, truly be safe, cleansed of the last---the only source of its sin, all that evil and greed an otherwise corrupting force on that of her Creation.

There was no hesitation in her now, the decision made. Not just by her, but by HIM, his reckless ways no longer able to be tolerated for ANY reason, he had tried the last of her patience, the favor owed no longer able to overlook any more of his vile antics. He had used it all up, every last bit of good will and gesture, and with her eyes blazing that bold color of emotions, the Goddess reached for and drew out the sword from the scabbard on her hip.

She took careful step forward, not about to desecrate the remains any further, stepping over bodies and parts, sometimes slipping on pathways made slick with the blood and the gore. It was horrifically cruel, the amount of dead staggering, stretching out farther than she could see, forming a trail that would lead her deeper into ruins. The Goddess already knew for certain just what awaited her inside, could feel that mad pulse of that vile energy beckoning her in, that pulsating thread of a life most perverse and powerful in its own right, daring Lenneth forward. He knew she was there, had in fact counted on her to come, this bloodshed and brutality all done with the intent to gain an audience with the Goddess. He had wanted her attention in fact, and by all she has held holy, he now had it, though the man wouldn’t be reveling in it for long.

Sword in hand, she continued down that pathway in that careful manner, the screaming of the souls for their vengeance nearly deafening her to the sliver of what else awaited her in the deepest part of the ruins. There was not one but TWO threads of life within, HIS, and a much fainter beat, that of a mortal struggling with and losing the battle to hang on.

“No.” Her first instinct breathed out of her on an angry gasp, power coursing forward, to try and bolster the life that was rapidly faltering. With a miracle of love, light, and healing, she sent reassurances to the one in danger, such encouragement needed, the soul that had been so close to slipping away completely, instead redoubling their efforts, fighting to hang on for just a little longer.

She heard a wild and masculine laughter in response, but that monster who played at being human, made no overt gestures toward his one remaining victim now. He was in fact toying with them both, the innocent and the Goddess who would protect all, Lenneth starting to move, faster and faster, until her feet all but left the ground, her wings shuttling her forward the rest of the way, mixing gleaming white feathers into the trail of bodies and blood, the pathway lit up with her radiance, and brought her ethereal form out into a large cavern of a room.

#valkyrie profile #lenneth valkyrie #lezard valeth #wip #work in progress #one shot #no name yet #fanfic #fanfiction

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loyalflutist · 4 years

Text

Fifth Time Around (Prequel) (f!Byleth x Edelgard)

Rating: Mature Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death Words: 3,568 Summary: The Divine Pulse is a powerful ability granted by Sothis to turn back the hands of time. However, with each cycle, Byleth is one step closer to being by Edelgard's side. Upon receiving her happy ending, what happens if Byleth decides to strive for the impossible with another Divine Pulse?

*This is a prequel to the upcoming Final Fantasy Type-0 x Fire Emblem: Three Houses crossover series. However, it can act as a standalone Edeleth OS.

A/N: This is more for my own guilty pleasure and making my own food since no one seems to be writing about this crossover. I decided that a prequel should be in place in order to set the mood and circumstances for the series. However, this OS can act as a standalone Edeleth fiction, so one can read it without any need to read the series. I had fun writing this! Kind of makes you wonder if there's ever going to be a revelation route for this... but at the same time, makes you not want it. Hope you enjoy it! I enjoyed writing it.

Next Chapter: [to be edited]

----

It has been exactly five months since she had been a professor at Garreg Mach Monastery. It has been exactly one day since her departure from Garreg Mach Monastery. It has been exactly five hours since her encounter with the Knights of Seiros and Adrestian Empire’s troops. It has been exactly three hours since she lost Jeralt in the clash. It has been exactly one hour since she last saw Edelgard von Hresvelg.

A shudder ran down Byleth’s spine, the seated professor pressing the Sword of Creator close to her chest. Byleth, Sothis, and a few surviving members of Jeralt’s battalions currently hid out under a stony shelter, the thunders roaring ferociously in conjunction with the pouring rain late into the night. They were fatigued and sustained numerous injuries. (Were it not for the lone healer in their group, they would have all succumbed to their wounds by now.) Byleth wearily stared at the man-made fire as her remaining comrades slept against the wall; the shadows continuously danced amongst the rocky terrains of the ground with each flickering of the flames. Byleth struggled to stifle her yawn.

“Aren’t you going to sleep?”

Byleth glanced at the nearby floating girl. Sothis, the all-powerful and all-knowing goddess, had features riddled with concern. When Byleth shook her head, Sothis loudly exhaled.

“It’s unfortunate that the war has begun much earlier than expected,” Sothis murmured with arms crossed, her gaze now elsewhere. “As expected of that child.”

“…Could I have been the cause of it all?”

“Perhaps.”

“…”

It crushed her. This fifth cycle amounted to nothing more than tremendous agony and unwarranted heartaches.

The first time, she sided with Dimitri because of his beliefs.

Byleth liked him. He was a young man for a brighter future. Dimitri was always so gentle with his comrades. He was always a people's person. The way he carried himself drew Byleth towards him. However, his true nature would leak out on occasion, his startling dark demeanors overwhelming the instructor. When Edelgard initiated the war, the Faerghus prince bellowed out as if he were a beast. His words coated with poison and burning lust to tear Edelgard’s head off her shoulders… Had it not been for Byleth’s presence, he would have spiraled into nothing more than a man seeking vengeance for everything that went wrong in his life.

“I grow weak when I face you…”

Edelgard’s final words struck something deep within her chest. It didn't help that Edelgard intentionally lowered her guard and held back on her strikes. That nearly caused Byleth to falter in her final attack as she, Dimitri, and the Blue Lions watched the vermillion lord fall. Surprising how a single sentence, a timid, almost quiet remark would be so powerful.

At that time, Byleth did not understand what Edelgard meant to say. Or rather, she chose not to understand what Edelgard meant to say.

The deadlocked war finally settled to a conclusion. Members from the Kingdom of Faerghus all cheered for their well-deserved victory. As for their professor, Byleth did not wish to continue her service under Dimitri’s ruling. It was time she earned her rest as well.

She proposed to Mercedes. It was her first love and the older female graciously accepted the proposal. They retired to the outskirts of the Kingdom of Faerghus. Mercedes would volunteer and run a charity organization for the orphanages throughout Fodlan. Byleth would tend to their farm and place food on the table. A simple life many yearned for. The two remained married until Mercedes died from old age.

As Byleth merged her soul with Sothis, her god-like longevity eventually outlasted all her comrades. The world moved forward and she is by herself. Seteth, Flayn, and Rhea would occasionally visit her, but not for long. They too would pass on from this world. And at that very moment, she found herself staring at the nameless, worn tombstone where Edelgard von Hresvelg laid to rest.

“…”

Byleth soon laid down next to the buried emperor. Could it be because she's lonely all these past decades that she decided to visit an old enemy? But why this enemy? Why this particular person and not someone like Claude? A melodic tune that's closely related to the little vermillion princess’s voice softly hummed in the air. It lulled the retired instructor into a deep slumber and encouraged her to be enveloped in the warmth of the song. If only Byleth could turn back time… If only she could ask Edelgard what she meant by those uttered last words…

Byleth closed her eyelids, sleeping by Mercedes and Edelgard, and never awakened.

Yet it appears the Divine Pulse worked in her favor. When she cracked opened her eyes, she found herself staring at Jeralt. Originally, Byleth expected to be finally sent up to the heavens. After prolonged periods of life on earth, the ex-mercenary yearned for nothing more than eternal slumber.

“Let’s go, kid.”

Turns out, Byleth’s physical appearance not only reverted back to its original state, but the female also stared in horror as the entire day began to slowly unfold itself in a predictable manner. Every interaction, every movement, every reaction… It was as if she turned back the hands of time!

“Did I surprise you?” Sothis later appeared. She bopped the mercenary on the forehead and smiled. “I’ve given you another chance to deal with those regrets.”

The Divine Pulse is a wonderful ability. Byleth was sure she would not waste this opportunity.

The second time, she sided with Claude because of his plans.

She respected him. Claude’s endeavors, track record, and perky attitude colored him in a brighter light compared to the Blue Lions’s House Leader. Yet his carefree personality hid a rather sly version of himself. The young man was not as foolish as he appears to be. Questions that were meant to be answered finally unveiled themselves that surrounds Those Who Slither in the Dark and the Church of Seiros. Byleth was also one step closer to figuring out Edelgard’s feelings and opinions towards the now-Golden Deer’s professor.

Unfortunately, Byleth found herself fighting not just against Edelgard again, but against Dimitri too. The three nations that once stood in the practice field for a friendly tournament five years ago now fight for survival and bloody victory. Weapons were tossed and exchanged. Blows landed and missed. The number of casualties steadily rising to unfathomable degrees. Byleth tearfully steeled herself when she faced members of the Blue Lions. Many of them mourned and expressed grief when she tore them apart, the tears running down her face as she impaled her Sword of Creator into Dimitri’s chest plate.

“Professor… why…?”

Those were the last words from the person that she ringed in her past life. Byleth wailed into the ironic sunny day with Mercedes in her arms. Endless tears spilled forth from the professor as the crimson gash that penetrated the holy maiden’s chest continued to flow with magma fluid. She had struck down students from the previous cycle with little hesitation due to a lack of familiarity. Yet when it came to the Blue Lions, she did so with a heavy heart. Byleth leaned forward and buried her face into the soiled woman’s shoulder, her weeping almost never-ending. It devastated her to murder the one that she once called her wife.

Claude had to pull her back to reality with a slap on the shoulder. The young man knew the heavy burden that rests on her shoulders as it did for everyone in the Leicester Alliance. However, it would be unfair if she were the only person left behind. Everyone had no choice but to recover. With that in mind, Byleth eventually recuperated and regained her strength to move onward.

“I wanted to walk by your side…”

Those words were different from when she was with Dimitri, but those words still haunted her. The two had finally faced one-on-one with each other and Byleth was the clear victor. But Edelgard had begged for her to be slain by Byleth. If anything, she wants Byleth to be the only person to kill her, and so she delivered.

Blood slowly trickled from the Sword of Creator’s tip as the professor stared at the fallen emperor. Then, Byleth grit her teeth.

Why did Edelgard have to say this? She still couldn’t understand what she had meant by those words. If Edelgard wanted to walk by her side, why can’t Edelgard just drop everything and join her and Claude’s vision for a better future? Or is Byleth simply deluding herself again and wished to look away from the damages she had done?

“…”

After the war had ended, Byleth found herself married to Claude, though this was more of a political move in order to maintain peace and balance between Fodlan and Almyra. They’ve never had any children and simply passed the royal title of Almyra to the next heir. For Byleth, she continued to act as an important figurehead for Fodlan well after the natural death of Claude and her comrades.

She eventually finds herself looking at the same nameless tombstone again. Here lies the young girl who wishes to be by her side and someone she had to kill once again. Byleth brushed her fingertips on the stony exterior as her eyelids closed once more. This lifetime came to a standstill with the passing of the Enlightened One from Fodlan, her funeral held for countless days.

Yet once more, Sothis turned back the hands of time. "You still have your regrets, don't you?"

The third time, she sided with Rhea because of circumstances.

This was more so out of anger and frustration from Byleth. The instructor, usually so composed and collected, flew into a fury when she realized the dangers Edelgard had posed against the Church of Seiros. Having to choose between the two women, Byleth bore the blunt end of the former Black Eagle’s House Leader attack, her arms shielding the holy maiden from further harm. Disappointment and sadness colored the white-haired’s features. She looked away, retracted her axe, and bit the bottom of her lip. Dorothea had come up to cast a healing spell on the professor as Byleth trucked through the pain.

Byleth taught the Black Eagles and she finally spent time with Edelgard. Why would Edelgard do this?! She stepped forward and sternly demanded answers from Edelgard. Couldn’t there have been another way to resolve the growing tension between the church and her?

The recently-ascended emperor chose to say nothing. Instead, Hubert and Edelgard forcefully retreated from the premise via teleportation, their silence the only answer provided at the time. That was the last she had seen the pair. After all, it wasn’t long until the neon-haired woman fell into another five-year coma once again.

Deep in her unconscious thoughts, Byleth frequently repeated the same question over and over: Why did she protect Rhea, but not Edelgard? Byleth would not be able to get an answer out of herself any time soon… and she would never as she found herself repeating the same course of action as the second time around.

“I wish we could be something more…”

They were out of breath, lacerations of varying depths scattered among their exposed skin, and their gaze ever so penetrating. Edelgard could barely raise her head, her hands using the Levin Sword as support for her weakened figure. Byleth’s relic trembled when she raised the weapon high above her head. Though she was grateful not to have met with Claude nor Mercedes in this route, the pent-up emotions that swirled and muddled together exploded in a single outcry, the blade flying down with startling power.

When the serrated edges came to contact with the emperor’s head, a sorrowful smile crawled on the lord’s lips. The instant Edelgard collapsed, so did Byleth, the tears dripping onto the dirtied pavement. That obliterated the dam that Byleth desperately tried patching up. She clawed at the ground and pounded the rough terrain until her fists were bruised and bloodied.

Why…?

Why?

Why?!

WHY?!

JUST WHY?!

WHY DID SHE HAVE TO DIE AGAIN?!

“EL!!!”

Had it not been for Dorothea, she would have committed suicide on the spot, the opera singer pulling her back to reality. If anything, Byleth finally realized why Edelgard had uttered those tragic last words, and she regrets learning about it. New regrets had bloomed in place of old ones.

Byleth’s internal struggle continued to grow and it became even worse for her psyche. The truth of Byleth’s birth and her origin nearly spiraled her sanity out of control. Once again, had it not been for Dorothea, Byleth would have offed herself. It was almost laughable that every single cycle she went through, she was subjecting herself to a new form of torture. New knowledge meant new forms of pain. Just how much more can she take?

After the war and slain of the Immaculate One, the professor desperately married Dorothea, their love burning for lust and relief from the war with their severe PTSD. Their relationship had become parasitic in hopes of tending to each other’s scars and unhealed wounds. It took another five years for them to stabilize their attitudes and, finally, fell in love beyond physical euphoria.

“…”

Unlike the previous times, to which she lived for hundreds to thousands of years, the neon-haired woman laid in her sickbed. Not even 20 years ticked by and Dorothea is forced to watch her passionate wife succumb to a mysterious illness. Delirious fevers plagued the few unlucky ones in the remote village from the Adrestian Empire and Byleth had caught it. No treatments were available to cure her of the disease. She was bound to die in a sickly manner. Dorothea stayed by her side up until the time of her passing, her songs lulling the weak warrior into another slumber.

“Fourth’s time the charm, Byleth. Don’t mess this up.”

Sothis was right. The fourth’s time the charm. Byleth’s fingertips dug into the palms of her hands as she greeted Jeralt once more upon reawakening.

The fourth time, she sided with Edelgard because of love.

Finally… finally! It was the cycle that Byleth had dreamed of achieving and ridding of the original regrets that gnawed at her when she was with Dimitri. She stuck by Edelgard’s side like glue from beginning to end since the first time they’ve met. When it came to choosing between the two women again, the professor did not hesitate to choose the young house leader. Edelgard was colored with shock, but Byleth wasn’t. Instead, she immediately greeted the student with plenty of support for her endeavors. Of course, this infuriated Rhea, driving her into the corner and lashing out at the two in future events.

The battles were harsh and Byleth struggled to kill those that had once been her students. Dimitri’s battle cries and lamentations drained her of energy alongside Mercedes inevitable death and Claude’s banishment replayed in her head over and over again. At least Edelgard had always remained by her side during those difficult moments. The young vermillion emperor would hug Byleth as the instructor crumpled into a messy heap. Soothing messages empowered the ex-mercenary for one more day. It was for their future and Byleth fought hard for their future. They were going to make it. This was especially prominent when they fought the Immaculate One and defeated her.

When Byleth died, Sothis departed from her body and provided enough life force to revive the originally-still born woman. Byleth was immediately greeted with a kiss from Edelgard once she had awakened from the temporary loss, the professor’s eyes glistened with a range of emotions. It turns out that she has finally found her happily ever after.

“I’ve originally thought that I would walk on this road on my own, but then you came into my life.” Edelgard extended her hand outward. She took her professor’s hand and brightened her features. “Now, we can walk together. I love you… Byleth.”

Their marriage came to fruition after they wiped off Those Who Slither in the Dark and war criminals with some help from their comrades. Progenitor God no more, both females had adopted a daughter child, and peacefully died in each other’s embrace from old age.

Warmth had embraced them into the heavens. Their hearts were always connected with one another and they would always be together.

Yet there was a tug. Byleth felt torn apart from the comfort of her third wife and spiraled into the darkness once again.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

Byleth nodded, her navy hues weary from the anguish she bore through. No amount of weight in the world would be able to appropriately describe the impact the four previous cycles would have on Byleth. It was all to achieve the ending she desired with Edelgard von Hresvelg.

But what about those that she had loved previously?

What about Mercedes, her first wife? The one she first fell in love?

Or what about Claude, her first husband? The one she and he worked so hard to maintain peace and a steady relationship between Almyra and Fodlan?

How about Dorothea, her second wife? The Dorothea from the time she sided with Rhea was distraught from an early loss of her lover?

Then, there are her old comrades. The students that she had taught, the allies she had made, the friends she had met in all four factions… Isn’t it possible for everyone to achieve their happily ever after? Is it possible to save them all from their impending doom?

“I can’t promise you that it will end well. Are you willing to give up your current happiness and peace for a near-impossible fate?” Sothis grimaced when the young woman agreed to one last cycle. The female reached out to touch Byleth’s chest. She lowered her head and muttered, “This is going to be a cycle that will change everything.”

And so, it did change.

Thunder continued to boom in the background. Byleth was startled awake from her nap, her head raised. She rubbed one bagged eye and managed to hold back a profound yawn. Just as she had awakened, so did Sothis. The green-haired readjusted her posture mid-air and stared at her host.

“Is this all a mistake?” The hoarse voice that crackled out of Byleth was out of character. Tonality that would’ve brimmed with confidence and brevity was reduced to uncertainty and anxiety. When Sothis remained silent, she added, “I’ve thought removing myself from the monastery would’ve worked. I thought… I thought I could come back and encourage everyone to openly communicate their problems.”

The mercenary felt her foot twitch as she shifted the weight of her arm onto the relic. “I’m a fool. Even dad died.” Byleth unconsciously smirked. “What’s to say about my other students? They ended up fighting each other in the end, blind to the very end.”

Gruesome blood splattered the field, every flick of a weapon having produced the grimy substance onto the greeneries. Returning in hopes of achieving an almost impossible reality did become impossible. The dream of a happier and more gleeful ending is nothing more than a fleeting wish. Persistence may be the key to success as Sothis was more than available to use the Divine Pulse a number of times for her host. Byleth is free to abuse the power with the guidance of the goddess. Yet the previous four cycles had done a number on the woman.

Sothis recalled the worrisome nature of Byleth when they began the new academic term. She had naturally chosen the Black Eagles House in order to revitalize and restart her relationship with Edelgard. Unfortunately, past red strings of fate wind around her pinkie with three other students, causing the professor to relapse into a potential romantic relationship with Mercedes, Claude, and Dorothea. It was not surprising to see Edelgard, Mercedes, Claude, and Dorothea’s relationship with Byleth become estranged thanks to past commitments.

There were also the nightmares that had plagued the instructor. Post-traumatic stress disorder had gotten severe enough to strangle Byleth into submission almost every night. She would desperately cling to her pillow and violently shiver underneath her blanket. Incoherent mumbles blubber out of her mouth as if she were possessed by the ghost of her past. If it weren’t for Sothis soothing the ex-mercenary, the teal-haired would never be able to retain her sanity.

The goddess watched her host immediately jump to her feet. Sword of Creator readied, Byleth glanced out of the shelter and into the dark, wet field. Two of the five mercenaries stirred from their sleep. When they spotted their leader in an offensive posture, they scrambled and posed similarly to her. Byleth’s knuckles whitened as she dryly swallowed.

“I have no choice but to see this through.”

She raised the now-brightened ancient blade at the approaching enemies. When she took a step forward, an arrow suddenly slammed into her shoulder. The pain receptors delayed its delivery as the chilled rain numbed her body, Byleth reeling her unaffected dominant arm back. Those Who Slither in the Dark raised their weaponries and prepped their magical spells once Byleth and the two warriors ran in their direction.

Sothis face contorts to pure horror when their assaults were exchanged. “Child… You should’ve listened to me before we did this.” Then, she squeezed her eyes and glanced away.

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ghostofviperwrites · 4 years

Text

Incompetent

Requested by: @keltic-goddess

Pairing: LIJ/FC

Category: NSFW

Warnings: language, bit of violence, threats

Word Count: 1859

2. “You’re a lot more attractive when you don’t open your fucking mouth” and 9. “What’s in it for me?” and 47. “I’m not sure I’m done with you”

Manamie smiled victoriously as she stepped out of the conference room, softly closing the door behind her on the meeting still in progress. She couldn’t believe it. They had finally given in and taken one of her suggestions for dealing with Los Ingobernables. It wasn’t a huge victory, but it was a victory nonetheless so she would take it. New Japan had agreed with her stance that LIJ could no longer fire women just because they slept with one or all of the stable members. Or wouldn’t sleep with one of them. From now on New Japan was going to require a viable fireable offense in order to let someone go.

Manamie couldn’t wait to impart that tidbit on LIJ. She could already imagine the looks on their faces. Her smile faltered a bit as she thought about their reaction. There was no way they were going to take this lying down. She had already been subjected to Naito and Sanada’s displeasure for her previous incidents with them. Closing her office door behind her Manamie flopped into her desk chair and stared at her desk as she remembered both Naito and Sanada taking her over it. How much she enjoyed it though she was loathe to admit it. The whole damn group was a thorn in her side. Good sex didn’t negate the fact that they made her job nearly impossible.

Pushing those thoughts away Manamie reached for the manila folder on the corner of her desk. The folder that contained the resumes of individuals who had sent in resumes for the personal assistant position. Carefully perusing them Manamie selected five for interview. She was determined to find the perfect candidate; to find someone that Naito couldn’t possibly get fired. Of course Manamie still held firmly to the belief that LIJ had no need for a personal assistant. In fact they seemed to run like a well-oiled machine when one wasn’t in the picture. Never missed an appearance. Rarely late. Exceptions as always for Naito, but everyone else was where they were supposed to be when they were supposed to be there. Pointing that out to the management had fallen on deaf ears.

A week later Manamie had her girl, Jona Sato, in tow as she led her through the various hallways towards the LIJ locker room, ready to introduce them to their latest assistant. Telling them they wouldn’t be able to fire their new assistant on a whim had gone over about as well as she expected and she still got a shiver down her spine as she remembered the look in Evil’s eyes as he glared at her. Intimidating didn’t even begin to describe the feelings he evoked in her.

Knocking on the door she waited to receive the all clear before opening the door. She had made the mistake once of not waiting. Never again. Upon entering Manamie and Jona stopped short taking in the scene before them. Hiromu was laid out on the floor with Evil on his back, the bigger man’s arm wrapped around the throat choking him as a towel clad Sanada watched with a smirk. Bushi was shaking his head while laughing and shouting words of encouragement to the squirming Hiromu. Manamie found Naito stretched out on the couch, one eye open and lazily watching the fight ready to step in if it looked like Evil may actually murder Hiromu. Finally Evil released Hiromu’s throat, grabbing his hair and whispering some threat in his ear before climbing off Hiromu’s back. Hiromu laughed and remained on his stomach laying his head down on his arms. Immediately the room settled back into a sense of normalcy as Bushi turned his attention to the pretty girl at Manamie’s side.

“Manamie, you brought us a treat!” Bushi said with a smile. “That’s so nice of you.”

“She’s not a treat,” Manamie said harshly making his smile dim. “This is Jona Sato. She is your new assistant.”

“Impossible.” Naito said sitting up and glaring at Manamie. “Did you forget the discussion in your office before I fucked you on your desk?” He smirked as Manamie blushed deeply. “I don’t recall her passing an oral exam.”

“She’s not taking an oral exam Naito.” Manamie told him firmly. “She’s hired. She’s your assistant. You do recall our recent discussion regarding termination of employment don’t you?” Manamie asked smugly as Naito sneered at her.

“You’re a lot more attractive when you don’t open your fucking mouth” Evil said with a glare. “Maybe someone needs to introduce you to a gag.” Manamie found herself locked in his stare, her heart racing as she imagined Evil pounding into her from behind while a ball gag confined her moans.

“I’ll just leave you all to get acquainted.” Manamie said as her face burned red, turning on her heel and making a hasty retreat.

“Bitch needs a trip to the dungeon.” Evil muttered glaring at the closed door.

“Later Evil. For now we apparently have a new assistant to welcome.” Naito said halting Evil’s plans to go hunt down Manamie and give her a little lesson in respect.

They turned their gazes to Jona only to find she had found a seat in the corner and had her face buried in her phone. The five men surrounded her, Sanada reaching and snatching her phone from her hands.

“You need to put together our schedules for the week.” Naito informed her when she simply stared up at them with a bored expression. “There are instructions from the last assistant on top of the schedules. Do try not to screw it up.”

“What’s in it for me?” Jona said with irritation soaking her tone.

“It’s your goddamn job. What do you mean what’s in it for you?” Bushi snapped. “You are our assistant. Get off your ass and do as you’re told.”

“Fine.” She snapped with a huff getting to her feet and pushing past the men. Grabbing the stack of papers she flounced from the room, leaving them staring after her in stunned silence.

That was the last they saw of her that day, and over the course of the next several days they rarely saw her. Things were in chaos as they had no schedules and she refused to impart information to them. She was rarely where she was supposed to be and Naito was at the end of his rope.

“I want her fired.” Naito proclaimed pushing into Manamie’s office without invitation. “She needs to go.”

“Naito, you know the rule.” Manamie said firmly, refusing to rise to his antics.

“You don’t understand. I actually have a legitimate complaint.” Naito protested violently. “She doesn’t do anything.”

“Really Naito? You are seriously complaining of someone not doing anything?” Manamie said disbelievingly. “Speaking of not doing anything, what’s your excuse for no-showing the magazine interview this morning?”

“I didn’t know I had an interview.” Naito said. “I told you she doesn’t do anything. She never told me there was an interview today. She doesn’t tell any of us anything.”

Manamie rolled her eyes not believing a word he was saying as she picked up her phone.

“Jona-chan, can you please come to my office?” Manamie said when LIJ’s assistant answered her phone.

Moments later Jona appeared in Manamie’s office with a bright smile. Manamie gave her a return smile full of reassurance hoping to soothe the young girl’s nerves as Naito glared at her.

“Jona-chan, Naito-sama is claiming you never told him about his interview this morning.” Manamie said watching carefully as Jona’s eyes widened and she quickly shook her head.

“I did tell him. It was on the schedule I gave him last night and I reminded him this morning before I accompanied Evil-sama to his photo shoot. I swear Manamie. He knew.” Jona professed.

“Thank you Jona-chan. That will be all.” Manamie said with a smug grin. Jona had confirmed exactly what she thought.

“What do you have to say for yourself Naito?” Manamie asked. Naito was still staring after Jona in complete disbelief that she had outright lied to Manamie.

“She’s a lying bitch.” Naito snapped turning his attention back to Manamie. “I want her gone.”

“Well, unfortunately, that is not going to work this time around. I’m not firing someone because you can’t be bothered to do your job. Now I’ve managed to reschedule your interview, so you’ll need to head out in order to make it. Please do try to show up this time.” Manamie said with a cold smile.

“I liked you better before I fucked you.” Naito growled storming out of her office. He didn’t have time right now, but that little bitch Jona was going to pay.

Manamie barely had time to recover from Naito’s visit before another LIJ member darkened her doorway. This one sent a chill through her as Evil glared, his sneer promising violence.

“Whatever you’re trying to pull with this little girl needs to stop.” Evil said. “She’s incompetent and if her employment continues I’m not going to be responsible for my actions.”

“You can’t just barge in my office and make threats Evil.” Manamie retorted trying not to let him see just how much he intimidated her.

“She had me in the wrong fucking place three times this morning.” Evil snapped. “Driving all over fucking town because she can’t read simple instructions. She’s an idiot and she needs to go.”

“She’s staying and you better learn to work with her.” Manamie said, disregarding his comments. She finally had authority to not fire someone on LIJ’s whims and she wasn’t about to capitulate this early. She rose to her feet, walking towards her door and moving to shut it as she dismissed Evil. “I’m done with this conversation.”

“I’m not sure I’m done with you” Evil said stopping Manamie from closing the door on him with his hand. Pushing it back Evil stalked towards the now quickly retreating Manamie, kicking the door shut behind him as he moved.

“Evil, you need to stop and get out of my office.” Manamie said as he converged on her. Before she knew it she found herself between the wall and Evil’s thick frame, his hand grabbing her jaw and squeezing tightly.

“Tell me to stop again. I dare you.” He snapped glaring down at her. “You’re a mouthy fucking bitch who doesn’t seem to be able to stay out of our business.” Manamie whimpered as his grip tightened positive she was going to have bruises tomorrow. “Know your role, do your job and fire that cunt.”

Evil pushed off her and stormed out of the office, leaving a wide-eyed Manamie staring at his retreating form. Pushing off the wall Manamie swallowed the lump in her throat and moved to sit down at her desk, Evil’s unspoken threat reverberating through her mind.

Was sticking it to LIJ really worth the trouble she was courting?

#lij fanfic #lij imagine #njpw fanfic #wrestling fanfic #mywriting #ghostofviperwrites

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mountphoenixrp · 5 years

Photo

We have a new citizen in Mount Phoenix:

Doyle Quillian, who is known by no other name; a 25 year old son of Brigit. He is a pathologist at Asclepius General and a medical specialist for the MPPD.

FC NAME/GROUP: kim doyoung / nct, nct-127 CHARACTER NAME: doyle quillian AGE/DATE OF BIRTH: 1st February, 1994 (25 years old) PLACE OF BIRTH: Dublin, Ireland OCCUPATION: pathologist at Asclepius General (full time), forensics (medical specialist for the police – on call for murders only), freelance comic book artist, poet and painter, sometimes teaches self-defence classes DEFINING FEATURES: He was often described as having piercing eyes and an infesting smile. He does look serious most of the times, mainly because he is concentrated, but also because his vision is quite bad (he does wear glasses, but not always). He has a birthmark on his hipbone in the shape of a flower because of his mother, and he has the phrase ‘qui tacet consentit’ (lat. silence gives consent) tattooed very small in his handwriting on the inside of his left middle finger.

PERSONALITY: Doyle is simply fascinating. From the way he talks to people, to the way he makes them feel. Even if they are just his little experiment, he offers them something they all crave for deep inside: attention. He is a master of words, and his honest and sharp tongue hits right where it should, when it should. However, he is quite distant, and does not let people know him. He is the type of person who would answer to ‘how are you’ with ‘but how are you’. The less people know about him, the better, because he is very private. Still, somehow, you cannot dislike him, even if he hurts you. He has the alluring charm of a cult leader, and strategy of a psychopath. He distrusts everyone, so it is natural for him to get suspicious and research people. His philosophy tells him that only dead men do not lie.

HISTORY: The Celtic goddess Brigit praises herself in being for the most part driven by her good nature. But it is in the nature of mankind – no exclusion to gods here – to get a little feisty, maybe a little adventurous once in a while. Still, she did not betray her oath to her father – never to bear children, for she was to help other women bear children. The oath never said anything about creating her own children. So she tried, for years and years. She made her first one out of metal, but he did not survive long enough to tell his tale. She tried again, made him out of twigs, but he could not speak so he chose to die. For centuries she tried to forge a child, for she could create none.

It takes two to give life.

He was a wealthy Korean man, who insisted that he was not vile. Perhaps his sweet smile, and kind face betrayed the women who adored him so. He had something for naivety, and those eighteen year olds were perfect for his experiments. Money buys immunity. So when they found the girls, one by one, mutilated, and unrecognisable, they did not think to blame him. They captured another, one that was not innocent, but no murderer. He escaped, and never looked back. Still, there was no denying that he was absolutely beautiful. And handsome people surely deserve to be forgiven for their sins, right?

Brigit forgave him. Whether it was because of the suffocating feeling of love or because of need is unknown. He liked her, very much so. He wanted to make her his, so infatuated he was. He fantasied about bathing in her sweet, virgin blood. But his carnal desire was not fulfilled. Brigit collected his seed, and transformed him. Now, legends can be wrong, or misguiding. The most reliable source talks about a plant, whose scent is so disgusting, it attracts maggots and flies. Yes, it does smell like rotten flesh. And he was transformed into one of those flowers, but what do we know anyways?

With her human seed, and her incredible talent, Brigit managed to forge a child, her first son. He was frail, and she feared he would die in her arms like the others. But he was a fighter. He survived, and they lived together for years. The story could end here, but stories rarely have a happy ending. The boy grew up as handsome as his father, and as talented as his mother. At the age of three, he composed a three verse poem about the frogs on their porch. At the age of five, he inked the tree in their garden on a scroll. At the age of eight, he broke a wooden plaque with his bare hands, and won a strength contest at school. And at the age of ten, he showed an incredible interest and talent in healing, tending small animals and later larger ones. It would have all been wonderful, if Brigit would have not gifted him with one more thing. The seed of a murderer.

His urges were easy to control at first. He never wanted to hurt animals, so tending to their wounds and helping them die has not raised any unwanted needs. And do not get him wrong, he really did try to control himself. But the lure of blood – you cannot understand, not unless you feel it. It started when he was fifteen, and was entering puberty – hormones moving all over. Most teens are motivated to do wrong things because of something so normal it is almost boring. He was unfortunate enough to witness a car crash. Most people would shy away from such experiences, some never really recovering, some would remember them forever and fear cars as a result. But he was not most people. He watched, fascinated as the blood dripped. It flowed and reached his feet, soaking his sneakers. It felt like a force was speaking to him, calling him. He fell on his knees, in the blood. His pants got soaked, his eyes closed, he felt it. A shudder of pleasure, no, it was much more. It was like he has been blind until now, like he has not had water in weeks. And suddenly he could see, and his thirst was no longer there. The authorities thought he fainted out of shock, and he was forced to go to therapy until they assured his mother there was nothing wrong.

Brigit knew better. She feared her secret would be uncovered, and her benevolent father will punish her for creating a monster. But she could not kill him. She just could not. So with her powers of healing, she tried to heal him. She left, made herself gone. Soon, the boy forgot her. Whether he wanted to or not, it is unknown. The only thing he remembers is a head of orange hair leaving, walking towards the sunset. He painted the exact image a thousand times, yet he never found his answer. He was sent to an orphanage, where he grew up until he turned eighteen. He worked very hard to get into college, and chose to study medicine. Well aware that he is special, he used his powers to help the less fortunate.

The story is not over yet.

Doyle, the name he chose for himself, is a part time night crawler – or in modern terms, killer. The chances of getting caught are so low, he is confident he will keep his hobby for years, and years. To drop all gruesome details, just imagine a trail of bodies everywhere he goes, and unsolved cases, or solved cases – under his assistance. Despite his thirst for blood, he kept his moral self in check. He killed out of necessity, so he targeted bad people. Or those he considered to be immoral. Paedophiles, thieves, abusers, rapists, and the like. He hunted them, and tortured them. There is no reason to cut the life of sinners short.

Eventually, he followed a group of friends to Mount Phoenix. Knowing they are special like he is, and with the promise of a better Neverland, he joined them on their one week journey to this mysterious place. And when he got there, he decided that he will never leave. The chaos never ends on Phoenix, and he is there to entertain it.

PANTHEON: Celtic CHILD OF: Brigit POWERS: Doyle is incredibly talented, and is lucky enough to succeed at everything he touches. He is an asset to solving murders, because he can read the dead better than anyone. He is an incredible fighter, martial arts run in his blood but he is not practicing. However, if there were a fight, he could easily face almost any enemy. He is an artist, in every sense of the word. Sometimes dreaming of a better reality, perhaps. He writes poetry in his free time, and blessed by his mother, his source of inspiration seems to never run short. STRENGTHS: talented in medicine, arts, and martial arts WEAKNESSES: has an uncontrollable thirst for blood and violence; he is mentally unstable and antisocial (despite not showing it) – he tends to isolate himself; his luck depends on circumstances, he is not a supernaturally lucky person and things can go wrong and he could be discovered; his emotions do not always work right, most of the times he cannot feel anything (sociopath tendencies); he could lose control of himself if he murders the wrong person – cannot mentally handle guilt

#kpop rp #krp #nct #kim dongyoung #nct doyoung #mp; welcome

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idioticimagination · 5 years

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The Queen of The Sky | The 100 | Part 14

Request Here!

Pairing: Bellamy x Reader Rating: M (Mentions of murder, blood, and violence) Fandom: The 100 Word Count: 2,939 Summary: Three years ago Y/N, queen of the tribe known as the Ladrones, was sent to the ground as punishment for her crimes. Now the dropship has just arrived along with 100 delinquents. Among which there are many familiar faces. Several stories to be told. Will Y/N’s dark past unravel for all to see? Will her secrets finally be shared with the world? Will the queen of the sky cause sunny days or stormy nights? Is she a villain? Or just the goddess they needed?

(A/N: I’M SO SORRY!!! I HAD WRITERS BLOCK for like six months BUT I HAVE INSPIRATION AGAIN but I’m also gonna be really busy because the inspiration is coming from personal problems that I should really be solving BUT I WILL TRY TO UPDATE MORE! AND I’M VERY SORRY!😖😖😖😖 THE NEXT FEW PARTS ARE ALREADY OUTLINED AND PLANNED BUT I’M PROBABLY GOING TO BE POSTING THE REQUESTS I HAVE PILED UP from like six months ago BEFORE FINISHING THE FIRST SEASON OF THIS SERIES BUT DO EXPECT MORE FROM ME hopefully)

I was escorted back to the city by Kai, who was in front of me, and two more guards who were behind me. Due to the fact that he was the general, Kai was obligated to return as well. I still had the mask on; I was not allowed to take it off until we were within the city walls. The City of Eclipsa was hidden behind a mountain range that eventually lead to a cliff. The mountains surrounded the city offering a natural wall of defense, but Nova, the oh so paranoid, insisted we build another wall around the city. It traced along the mountain range and offered an easier route for the patrol guards, as well as built in areas, to hold the weapons and signal fires.

We had been travelling for quite some time, luckily no attacks had happened so far. We left before sunrise, and as we finally approached the city, the sun was beginning to set. Kai raised his shield, sending a signal to the guards as he waved his arm in the air, the shield proudly showing our city emblem. The gates opened as the patrol guards yelled out commands and declarations.

We walked in to be welcomed by crowds of people lining the streets as they cheered for the return of their queen and general. I straightened out my back and held my head high as we rode our horses through the crowded streets as the citizens of Eclipsa made way for their beloved monarch. I smiled and waved, hoping that the exhaustion I felt could not be seen. I was their queen. They had to believe that I was strong, that I could withstand anything.

As the castle gates opened up for us, a sigh of relief left my lips. The metal gates shut closed as a loud slamming of the iron lock could be heard. A silence surrounded us, an obvious contrast to the screaming and cheers that could still be faintly heard from outside the walls that surrounded the castle. Now all that pierced through the quiet was the trotting of the horses.

I rubbed at my eyes, trying to keep them open as my drowsiness overwhelmed me. As my head began to hang low, I was suddenly jolted upright when I heard the doors to the castle begin to creak open. A familiar blur of a woman in her usual green dress awaited us. She began to descend from the stairs as the troops and I got off our horses. She hugged Kai first, hesitant to let go before she made her way over to me. Her arms wrapped around my neck as I hugged her waist with my one free arm, the other still holding on to my horse. “I missed you too, Nova,” I smiled as she finally let go of me.

As I walked through the castle I began to remove the armour on my body. First I took off my cloak. Next the metal plates that covered my legs below the knee. After, I took my combat boots off, placing it into the arms of the servant that followed behind me, picking up after my mess of undressing. Next were the cuffs of metal that extended across my forearm acting as a shield in battle.

After I slammed the door to my personal chambers closed, I took off the chest plate and battle skirt only to reopen the door to toss them towards the servant. “Thank you,” I said before I slammed the door shut again and jumped onto my comfy awaiting bed. I threw the stupid mask across the room, a loud thud notifying me that it had hit a wall. I allowed my eyes to droop close, telling myself it was just to rest my eyes, but I knew I’d most likely fall asleep.

I groaned as I heard my door open and close, already knowing who it was. “Did you miss it?” Nova asked nodding her head towards the bed. I smiled and nodded as I cuddled into the pillows and fluffy sheets once more. “Then perhaps you wouldn’t be too fond of leaving it behind,” she laughed. I opened one eye to look at her, slightly lifting my head off of my comfy, fluffy, beloved pillow. “Perhaps it may be easier for you to stay?” Nova suggests in an unsure tone.

I glared at her. While it was true that I missed my comfy bed after several nights of switching between cots, hammocks, and tree branches, I was not a fan of what she hinted towards. “Being queen not as easy as you thought? From all that yelling, scolding, and arguing you’ve done while I was the one on the throne, I would have thought that you would be a great, if not magnificent queen,” I teased with a smug smile evident on my face. “I’m not staying,” I said.

“You don’t know that,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone, and the fact that her statement was true concerned me.

I sat up from my bed, leaning against my forearms as I glared at her from across the room. “Do you plan on making me stay?” I asked. She simply let out a soft chuckle before leaving. Wanting an answer, I called out to her as she closed the door. The door shut with a click as I threw my head back onto the mattress, deciding an answer wasn’t worth getting up. Not long after, I fell asleep.

I thought I would fall asleep again as I sat through the council meeting. The council meetings were my idea when we had first became a united people. It was a way to make sure the city is running smoothly and advise each other if anyone were in need of aid. The city entirely was under my rule, but with how enormous it had become there was no way I could rule on my own. That is why the council was made. The council consists of the queen, which was me, the general, which was Kai, the top adviser, which was Nova, and the nobles.

The nobles oversaw the four regions of the kingdom. The north was under Abraham, an elder man who had convinced his village to stand and fight with me against Trikru. The south was under Sofia. She used to be the royal doctor. She values life over everything. The east was under Victoria, the daughter of the man that helped me escape Trikru. He had followed after me along with Nova, and he held the role of noble of the east up until his unfortunate death last year when he faced terminal illness. Victoria was quite young, but she was mature and intelligent. I knew she would be able to live up to her father’s influence, if not I would have chosen someone else for the role. The west was under Damien. He too was young. He was a bit less mature than Victoria, but he provided an insight to the mind of the typical youth of Eclipsa.

Abraham was against having such young people in the council. He stated that they were too young to have any valuable input, but I ignored him. Much to his disbelief, young does not always equal stupid. Just like how old is not a synonym for smart. Besides, the youth are a very important part to society, after all they are our future, and I hold the belief that they deserve much more credit than most elders give them.

I didn’t believe in the practice of handing important roles down a bloodline simply because they shared the blood of someone who once held said important role. Instead, roles are chosen by a lengthy process. The monarch chooses the candidates, the council discusses and decides who shall take the role, and if the council were to ever fail to make up their mind, the people shall vote for whom they see fit. When the time comes for the city to need a new monarch and leader, if I have not chosen the candidates myself by then, it is up to the general and top advisor to choose the candidates. Then the usual process involving the rest of the council and the votes of the people will ensue.

Kai continued to list off everything that happened, occasionally having to pause his not-so-brief summary to answer the question of one of the council members. Most of the questions came from the same person, Nova.

“So by this point they should be fine without you, correct?” Nova asked once Kai finished his little monologue.

“That’s what this meeting is suppose to determine,” I said as I looked at Nova.

“It sounds like they’re perfectly fine, especially now that they’ve established connection with their home,” Nova concluded.

“But they haven’t. They could have sent the message, yes, but they have yet to hear anything back. For all any of us know their home could still think they’re dead,” Sophia said.

“And they are young. They will still need guidance until we are fully assured that they indeed have a full, stable connection with the rest of their people,” Abraham pointed out. “Besides, it is not as if the city is under any danger! I’m sure we can manage a little more if her majesty is to be gone a little longer.”

“Well...” Kai said. I turned to him with a puzzled expression. Has a threat occurred? A rival tribe seeking war? “They are technically actively seeking after the queen.” The council stared up at Kai as panic seemed to have overcome the council. “They know that she is here, that she was sent here.”

“They know the location of the city?” Victoria asked. “Why do they wish to find the queen? I thought you said that her majesty has already spoken with them-”

“Not her as in the queen who remains in Eclipsa. They are seeking her as in Y/N, an old friend, who remains on the ground,” Kai clarified. Both a confusion and relief surrounded us.

“Well, we still need to find a solution. What if they follow all the clues and it leads right here to the city. What if they attack, thinking we’re holding her captive. Or if they feel offended that we did not trust them to know that she’s alive?” Abraham said.

“Then let them find her,” Damien said as we all gave him a surprised and puzzled look. “Just don’t let them know that you’re the queen or the “masked madam” or whatever they called you. If they find you, and already know that you’re alive, then they’ll stop searching.”

I nodded, it wasn’t too bad of an idea. “But then she’ll need to hold up a double identity,” Sofia said.

“I’ve done it before,” I shrugged.

“At ease,” I said as I walked by the guard. Kai walked with me down into the cells where they kept the innocents they had captured. They’d soon be forced into labor if they weren’t simply killed off. “Do you have the keys?” I asked Kai as I held my hand out. He handed the ring of keys to me as I began to unlock the first chamber. However, I immediately withdrew as I heard the door open and footsteps descend from the stairs. I handed the key to the prisoner, telling them to hide it. Indra revealed herself, holding a torch to light the dark pathways.

“What are you two doing down here?” she asked.

“Rumours had been spread of a revolt, a lousy attempt to gain their freedom back. Just wanted to make an example, be sure that they knew what would happen if they were to even speak of such things again,” I said. Behind my back I had slit my wrists so blood would trail along the blade of my dagger. I hid my arm behind me, out of Indra’s sight as I showcased the dagger with a smug smile on my face.

Indra’s smirk flashed into a grin as she let out a small, confident laugh. “This is why you are my right hand girl, top warrior and leader of our forces,” she stated with pride. “Well then, I suppose I should leave you to it. I should go check the other fighters. A sickness must be sweeping the village. It seems as though almost all my best soldiers have suddenly felt ill, so take it easy,” she said before she returned up the stairs. I didn’t let my act down until I heard the shutting of the door echo through the walls. I looked at Kai as I gestured for Kai to check the staircase and make sure the coast was clear. A sigh of relief left me as Kai returned, sending me a nod of approval. I bandaged my wrists up as Kai freed the prisoners. My heart raced, but I had made up my mind. It was for the greater good. Still, the blood would forever be on my hands.

“I can do it,” I said. And so it was settled.

The Nobles left. I greeted them all a farewell and saw them out of the palace walls. As I walked down the halls to my study, I had two voices following me around. It was as if a devil and an angel sat on each of my shoulders. If only, I knew which was which.

“Are you sure about this?” Nova asked, shoving the door I had just tried to shut on her open. Kai followed in after her, although rather than stand in the middle of the room, he took a seat in one of the chairs in front of my desk and made himself comfortable, propping his feet up on my desktop.

“It’s already been settled,” Kai and I said in unison. I pushed Kai’s feet off my desk as I went to sit down in my chair.

“Has it though? Has it really? Because we still don’t have a plan for what to do once they do establish connection to your ark!” Nova said as she crossed her arms.

“The ark. It isn’t mine. I don’t own it,” I said with a scoff.

“Your ark, the ark, who cares? But I’m being serious!” Nova argued and whined, stomping her foot as she pouted.

“When are you not?” Kai mocked as he fumbled around with the pen he stole from me. “We’ll figure it out.” I leaned over the desk to pluck the pen out of Kai’s fingers and put it back in the jar that he took it from.

“We’ll figure it out? When? When it’s too late?” Nova persisted. Kai let out a grumbled breath as I laughed at the way the two interacted. “Have you considered the risks? Do you realize what you are doing? Have you forgotten what is on that ship? Who is on that ship?” I gave her a warning look. “What they did to you?” I rolled my eyes at her. “Why are you so insistent on helping them?” Nova asked.

“Maybe because she fell in love with the leader,” Kai laughed. My eyes widened at his remark as Nova took in a gasp so deep that if she were to exhale, she could cause a tornado. I shot Kai a glare. “With him, she’s almost like that teenage girl we knew three years ago.”

“Kai,” I said in a warning tone.

“But is it true?” Nova asked. She showed sympathy. She should have been angry with me, furious. She has to be annoyed with the situation! But sympathy?

“No,” I answered, “I fell in love with a man three years ago. I never fell out of love with him.” I barked, standing up from my seat. “But that is not who came to the ground,” I stated as if it were as simple as saying the sun was bright.

“Well, regardless we still need to go back. They’re like mice running around in the sky; they don’t know what they’re doing,” Kai said as he stood from his-my chair.

“Their well-being never should have been a priority to us nor should it be now,” Nova argued. “Y/N doesn’t even seem like she wants to help anymore anyway!”

They stared at me, awaiting for my response as my eyes widened. “Well,” Kai asked, “do you?” I sat there dumbfounded. “Do you wish to return?”

The answer seemed clear to me. My mind screamed at me to say no. I knew that my feelings for Bellamy could lead to my foolishness. My weakening confidence could lead us down a dangerous path. I was aware that I saw that the risk of pain was not worth the risk of love, but it had always seemed worth the safety of my people. I still see it that way. But the question was no longer if it was worth it. The question seemed as though it was one of who my people were, who do I stand with?

My head was a mess, and my heart was no better. I felt confused and lost. As if I was overcome with emotion, yet I also felt a certain numbness. Although the situation that caused it was new, the feeling was not. There was a nostalgia behind it, though this feeling had not come to me since I had first landed three years ago. I knew if I returned now, my busy mind dancing with my overwhelmed heart would lead to stupid actions.

Because of this, it only confused me more when my answer of no came out as a “Yes.”

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getoffthesoapbox · 6 years

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[GS] Goblin Slayer’s Foundational Sublayers

“Don't worry about the snakes in your garden when you've got spiders in your bed.”

I hope I’m not stepping on a landmine by posting about this particular show, given it’s controversial nature, but I’m quite floored by the layers I’m discovering in Goblin Slayer now that I’ve watched the first two episodes. I guess I’ll preface this with a couple disclaimers, then work out the rest under the cut.

First of all, I know nothing about Goblin Slayer other than that it is a light novel and has a manga variant. I’ve never read either, and have no intention of reading either in the near future. How the story unfolds or whether or not its intriguing and gripping premise devolves into pointless harem hijinks, I know not. If it’s merely a male power fantasy or if it has more substance, I know not. These things I will discover as they come within the anime. My post at this time is concerning what is right in front of me, the two episodes that are out. Whether the story can make good on what its more subtler layers are promising remains to be seen.

Second of all, this post will not delve into the controversial elements of the two episodes other than to refer to them lightly as necessary. While I believe the human mind is stronger than common wisdom implies, I’m not interested in fighting people over what should have been warned or not, so I won’t be messing with it. It just bogs down the flow of a post to have such things, and it goes against my principles, so I’ll be stepping around it entirely.

Preamble over. Let’s get crackin’.

Edgy Exploitation Fantasy or Psychological Horror Fantasy?

There used to be a subgenre of horror filmmaking called exploitation or grindhouse films. Some of the discussion I’m seeing about Goblin Slayer reminds me a bit of the controversies surrounding these shadier elements of filmmaking throughout film history. Artists are always pushing boundaries, touching taboos, and getting bit for going too far. This is the nature of art, and the whole process is fine--boundaries should be set by culture, but they should also be poked and prodded by subculture. It’s an eternal dance that is necessary and desirable for the health of a society. Go too far one way, and you’re too rigid. Go too far the other way, you’re unable to get your bearings. There is a time and a place to explore exploitation, and artists need to be free to go where the normal civilized person cannot. (Or at least, that’s what I believe.)

Where does Goblin Slayer fall, then? On the surface, one might say it easily falls into an exploitation subgenre. The first episode alone features men being viciously murdered and women facing far worse, all to set up the Heroic Entrance of the blank slate (quite literally, as he has no face) Audience-Insert Hero character. This Audience-Insert Hero Character then proceeds to Destroy All The Bad Things and save the day. In episode two, we find out the Audience-Insert Hero Character not only saves the day, but he’s the Only One who saves the day for the Little Guy and no one but his Harem, who he doesn’t notice because he’s Too Manly, appreciates him.

If the above were all that Goblin Slayer had to it (and perhaps future episodes will truly devolve into such a premise), then I would agree with those who criticize its exploitation of its female (and male) characters for the sake of elevating its hero and allowing its audience the opportunity to both be titillated by the violence being done to the victims and enjoy the fantasy of rescuing the damsels in distress who can be rescued. In some ways, Goblin Slayer certainly isn’t shy about indulging in its exploitative opportunities. But I do think there’s more to it than merely the exploitation layer, and that’s why I haven’t dropped it.

I think Goblin Slayer’s world building is some of the strongest I’ve seen in an anime fantasy setting in a long time, and the first episode left me with a genuine sense of horror that I haven’t felt in a long time. Horror is much like humor--it’s easy to spot and hard to do right. Jump scares and spooky sounds are one thing, but narrative horror--the kind you’d find in The King in Yellow or The Turn of the Screw--is much more difficult. The kind of horror that creeps up on you, that gets you thinking, that’s much harder. The same is true of slapstick comedy--it’s easy to do body humor, but difficult to do the more complicated forms. Goblin Slayer does an excellent job building its world into something truly horrific in its first two episodes, and while this does elevate its hero to truly “heroic” proportions, it also emphasizes just how difficult, unrewarding, thankless and necessary a task this man has undertaken is, and the depths of the evil which has snuck in by the back door.

But more than the world building, more than the harem elements, Goblin Slayer gets so. much. right. on two very important narrative levels most people never even think about: the evolutionary level and the mythological/religious level. These two levels are buried beneath our stories, and most of the time in the rush of planning characters and plots and themes and the “things of heaven” so to speak, writers don’t even realize the “hell” at their feet, the foundation upon which they’re building. When a writer gets it right, you know, because people are drawn to it without being able to understand why, even if the plot, characters, and “themes” are badly written or terrible or repugnant morally. When a story gets the foundation layers right, there’s something in it that really calls an audience’s attention, for good or ill, and that’s what I want to explore here today.

The Serpent In The Garden & The Heart

What struck me about the first two episodes of Goblin Slayer was that this world was fucked inside and out. This is the layer of myth and religion--whenever a story starts with a premise like that, we’re going straight back to the origin stories of mankind--the angry gods and goddesses, the banishment from paradises, the murdering of first brothers. Even if we’re secular people, we all carry within us the DNA of generations upon generations of people who held this mythology within their lives and blood. It influences us in ways we don’t even recognize to this day.

Goblin Slayer makes a clear-cut case for the evils of the goblins themselves, and they’re the easiest to address first. The goblins are this story’s initial enemy, the “serpent in the garden” to to speak. They are the thing, according to the Hero, who is keeping the World from Paradise. The source of the fall, so to speak. And the story does an excellent job of establishing the horror of these creatures. In small groups or one-on-one, outside of their nest, they’re no threat at all, much like a lone rat might be or a lone wasp or a lone termite. But enter their nest and their layer, ignore them to let them multiply, and you’ll soon find yourself battling an infestation of the little buggers. These goblins are nasty little creatures--smart as dogs and rapacious as bed bugs. They hide from larger, scarier monsters, and loot poor, ill-defended villages, pillaging for supplies and women, who they drag back to their layers. Much like pillagers throughout humanity, these creatures swam what they want and devour it in whatever way strikes them. They’re truly horrific creatures.

Now this alone would be rather one-sided if the goblins were the only evil the story highlighted. But fortunately, there is a second layer that touches on the snakes that exist in the heart of every creature. Why are the goblin infestations increasing? Because humans don’t feel like dealing with them. They’re a hassle (like pests), they’re easy to kill as long as you don’t get swarmed, and there are bigger fish to fry (likely legitimately, but that hasn’t been justified yet). Worse, they tend to attack poorer villages that can’t afford to put up a town defense much less hire adventurers to assist them. The bounties aren’t worth it for anyone but the greenhorns looking for experience. So much of the destruction caused by these green menaces is due to human greed and sloth--”strong” humans are too important to waste time on “small” fry like goblins. Greenhorns are then sent to the slaughter--the ones who survive become regular adventurers and soon escape the grind of goblin-hunting while the unlucky ones get slaughtered or worse.

Even with these two sides of horror--nature and the heart of man--this story would fall flat if it didn’t have one last piece of the triangle. Generally when stories fail at this level, they fail because their protagonist is “above” the serpent within. Fortunately for Goblin Slayer, the Goblin Slayer himself is not this kind of character. He may have a harem and he may be “heroic,” but the first two episodes of the story do not justify him or his actions. I think it might be easy to take his backstory flashback as a justification, but there are a few key moments that the story emphasizes which, in my opinion, make it clear that the flashback is merely to explain why he’s obsessed with his mission to eradicate the goblins, not to justify his actions. The first moment is in the first episode when he slaughters the helpless goblin children--while his words may be “correct,” they neither convince the Priestess nor do the visuals agree with him--he’s portrayed visually as an overbearing monster bearing down on the hapless creatures. In the second episode, he attempts to justify himself to the Priestess again, but what we see from her is not her nodding in agreement or having a Sudden Realization of his Righteousness--instead she is praying as they’re slaughtering the goblins. She still views him as wrong, even if this is a necessary evil in order to protect their own kind.

On top of the Priestess’s alternative viewpoint and the camerawork, we have his Childhood Friend, whose pain and loneliness is emphasized. His work isn’t justified by her story, it’s criticized. While he’s off chasing down this endless revenge quest, he’s hurting a woman who has cared for him for most of his life. He’s missing out on the beauty of her company and her companionship, on the brighter side of life, on “heaven” so to speak. Her uncle wants her to give up on him, and understandably calls him crazy. But she is faithful in waiting, and in hoping that one day he’ll turn toward her. To be fair, the story does try to play things evenly rather than simply criticizing its main character (it does want you to root for the Goblin Slayer), and it does this through the Guild Clerk, who in my opinion is the least trustworthy of the heroines so far. She may “value” the Goblin Slayer, but she’s certainly willing to hand out goblin missions to unqualified greenhorns and use them as cannon fodder when necessary. The story makes it clear that she has a serpent in her heart as well.

What I see here, with these three key elements in play, is the set up for a huge redemption arc not only for the Goblin Slayer, but also for the world at large. We’re starting off with both a fall from paradise (the goblin infestations rising) and the Problem of Malice/Evil (the indifference of the other adventurers and the obsession of the Goblin Slayer), both of which will have to be addressed and rectified before the end. It’s clear from the opening that, much like Guts from Berserk, the Goblin Slayer cannot complete his mission alone. He is not going to be able to actualize himself as a person and as a human being and free himself from his obsession until he is shown a bigger picture through the perspectives of the people who come into contact with him.

The exploitation in the first two episodes to me seems to be ultimately necessary for establishing the sheer magnitude of the stakes in this story not just for the main hero and heroine, but also for the world itself. It is a world that has turned a blind eye to injustice in favor of greed, a world that is not functioning with proper order and is allowing chaos to flourish because people are trying to avoid facing what they don’t want to face. If this theme carries on throughout the entirety of the story, and if both the Goblin Slayer and the world change by the end, I think it could have the makings of quite a satisfying quest on the most fundamental of levels, even if it indulges in a few harem hijinks.

Evolution On Display

This might be kind of a funny thing to notice, but I think the evolutionary layer is a key layer in storytelling that perhaps isn’t acceptable to modern sensibilities despite resonating deeply due to the nature of evolution.

On average, women tend to flock toward the men at the top of a hierarchy. These men, evolutionarily speaking, are the most likely to be able to offer security and safety for the woman and her offspring. Since only in the modern age have medicine and work opportunities become available to allow women to not rely so heavily on men’s assistance, this is something buried deep within the female psyche that they most likely don’t even realize is operating within them.

Harem stories are annoying to me in general because I tend to find them unrealistic in some senses (generally the male figures in them are not what women themselves would pick as the “top of the crop” which is why women can so quickly pinpoint a male fantasy character vs. a legitimate top male). Male fantasy characters tend to be average schmucks whose only selling point is that they’re “nice” and can help solve the girls’ problems. Characters like that tend to be off-putting for female audiences because let’s face it, in real life you kind of need more to sell than just your niceness. ;) So in most harem stories of the anime variety, the harems the males gather to them are not earned the way real top males earn their harems.

Take, for example, a star actor or a star sports hero--these men work their asses off night and day to rise above the crowd. They may get several girls who like them when they’re first starting their craft, say, in high school. By college they have a respectable harem of ladies who are interested. By the time they make their first break in the industry, maybe they have a new girl every night if they want. By the time they’re famous, they most likely can have whoever they want whenever they want. This is the nature of what it means to be on top. And this makes sense, because think about what comes “with” being a star of this kind--immense wealth, immense notoriety, immense resources. On a biological level, it only makes sense that these men would be incredibly attractive to women, women who might not mind sharing if it means having a piece of such a man.

What I love about Goblin Slayer is that it actually accurately gets this element. Women see the worth of men and the likelihood of them making it to the “top” of the hierarchy earlier than men do. This is why the Childhood Friend’s conversation with her uncle in episode two was so interesting to me--he sees nothing of worth in the Goblin Slayer, but she already is seeing a man who has the ability to secure the life and resources she needs. She’s seeing the future while her uncle can only see the worthless sack of shit in the present. You see this effect also on the Priestess, who the Goblin Slayer rescues. She sees his worth as a protector, thus security. The Guild Girl also sees his worth in the status sector--he’s the Only One Who Will Fight Goblins, which is a status. The reason he gets ridiculed by other adventurers is because they don’t understand that he’s carving a niche status for himself (he himself doesn’t understand this either), but they instinctively fear that niche status. Ridicule comes from an instinctive fear of excellence. Whenever a man (or woman) begins reaching for excellence, it stirs up anxieties among the people around them who know subconsciously that they’re not striving for the same thing.

Thus we end up with this realistic harem that actually works for once because it’s based (most likely subconsciously on the writer’s part) on actual evolutionary development. The Goblin Slayer is in the process of earning his status, his resources, and his harem. He is doing that with single-minded attention toward his goal, which is ultimately the eradication of goblins. Now, his goal is wrong, and he’ll have to temper it, but it’s an important part of the process guiding him toward the top of the hierarchy, where he’ll find the happiness he doesn’t know he’s looking for now.

Why Fantasy Stories Aimed At Men Still Matter

I wasn’t going to go here when I started my post, but apparently I have something about it I want to say.

There is certainly a push now to make stories of all shapes accessible to women, and I absolutely have no problem with this. Expanding the audiences for stories is perfectly fine (and smart from a business-standpoint!). But at the same time, I think something has been lost for male audiences in the process, and for female audiences as well, in removing the opportunity for a truly male-oriented worldview for (some) stories.

Stories are essentially a way to understand each other, to bridge the gap between our heads and other people’s. It is as helpful for a woman to watch a male harem fantasy as it is for a man to watch a female reverse harem fantasy--both offer windows into the dreams and wishes of each gender and give clues as to what kinds of personality traits are worth cultivating and what traits should be snuffed out as quickly as possible.

The problem comes when one gender gets a monopoly over the other, or when one gender becomes naval-gazing and self-indulgent at the expense of the other, which is why (understandably) we’re seeing a movement toward stories with broader perspectives. The only downside to a broader perspective, of course, is that you lose intimacy and you lose the ability to enter a specific type of person’s worldview. (This brings me to mind of something like Lolita, which probably would not be able to be published in the modern day.) When you can’t narrow the perspective of a story to reflect a single mindset, you definitely lose some flavor along the way. Whether that flavor is worth losing or not is probably up to each individual viewer.

The other problem that I’m seeing at least with recent storylines in anime is that even as they’re extending the narrative umbrella to female audiences, in the process they’re losing the aspirational aspect of men’s journeys. These stories aimed at men are no longer guiding them toward becoming the kind of men who can attract the women they want and be respected by their peers; instead they try to placate young men who have made nothing of themselves by offering them women who will accept them “as they are.” I see the same thing happening in stories for girls--girls aren’t aspiring to become the best partners they can for the men at the top of the hierarchy, instead they’re being told they can just “be themselves” and the top males will land in their lap for no reason at all simply because they’re the heroine. I find these kinds of stories to be dangerous in a great many ways because they foster false expectations and senses of entitlement that aren’t helpful when navigating difficult gender dynamics in the real world.

What does this tangent have to do with Goblin Slayer? Well, as far as I can tell, Goblin Slayer is getting this right. The Goblin Slayer is not a layabout useless sack of crap whose childhood friend has to wake him up every day by jiggling her unrealistic assets in his face. He’s a man who is making his way in the world, a man who has a purpose he chose for himself, a man who pays for his rent, a man who gets himself up every day, a man who politely escorts the lady of the house where she wants to go, a man who is respectful and civilized. He is a man “in process,” which is a great place to start with a hero. Of course there is still growth--he needs to become more than merely a goblin murderer. If he wants to earn the harem he’s beginning to attract, he needs to expand as a person. But what I appreciate about this story is that it establishes the basics of what one needs to begin attracting the opposite sex--a job, industriousness, and excellence in one’s field of work. What’s even better is that this story is establishing that this can all be done without looks being a factor--the Goblin Slayer is never seen without his helmet, which means he’s attracting people based on what he does and how he acts. In other words, the Goblin Slayer is an aspirational figure, even with his flaws.

Stories like this are necessary for young men so that they can see themselves as something other than useless layabouts who need a woman to wake them up in the morning. Stories like this are also necessary for the brave women who care to overlook the male perspective in order to gain understanding of how much work a man has to put in to even be able to attract any notice, and to what men are looking for both in relationships and in their lives in general. I guess maybe I as a viewer just like to see this aspect respected and hope that stories won’t be afraid to regain a bit of what has been lost in transition here. Again, I don’t want to lose stories that appeal to everyone, but I think it’s fine for some stories to focus specifically on one gender in order to help work through many of the problems and challenges that gender faces in the world. Goblin Slayer by itself can’t do that alone, and I’m not even saying it’s the best variant of this genre, but at the moment it’s getting things right and I like to praise things when I see them getting things right.

He Who Runs Away Today Lives To Run Another Day

I hope I haven’t offended anyone with this post (it’s hard to talk about controversial subjects without offending at least half the room), but if I have I offer my sincere apologies. This was meant to be an exploration of the thoughts and feelings this story and some of the controversy surrounding it stirred up within me, and I’m not really sure I accomplished much more than merely getting some thoughts out on paper, but it is what it is.

Whether you love Goblin Slayer or hate it or are indifferent to it, thank you for making it all the way to the end of this and I hope we’ll cross paths again.

Until next time!

#goblin slayer #potentially controversial?#proceed with caution #potentially soapboxing a bit #sorry in advance

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