#so when he is reborn again he will choose ANOTHER body | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kelppsstuff · 7 months

Note

Reading your recent post actually made me tear up, in public of all places, I want to give the two of em some.. uh.. comfort

New resident in Charlie's hotel! Who might it be?

Well, since sir pentious can rise, another can go down, right?

Let's say that the reader might've killed one demon before when she joined them in their exterminations

It makes me wonder so damn bad what'll lute and Adam react when they see this demon, the painstakingly similar in body, height, physique darling who, even when damned to hell, still kept her sweetheart personality

This is to soothe the sadness I felt from reading that

“I’m so fucking sorry!” Part two

Part One | Part Two

Masterlist

Warnings: mentions of death.

Summery: After you die for Lute and Adam they find how your reborn a sinner.

Taglist: @lutesb1tch @strawberryclumsy @fandomsbookclub @adamsfavoritesinner @mimmieme

When you died you didn’t expect for you to be reborn a sinner. You had lived an after-life of pure righteousness. The only thing you had ever done was defend yourself and accidentally killed a sinner. So to say you were shocked was an understatement.

You wanted to see Adam and Lute again, but you knew how they felt about sinners. Would they just toss you aside?

You knocked of the newly build hotel, nervous. The door opened and the Princess opened the door. She immediately knew who you were. You looked the same besides slightly larger black wings and the horns on your head. “I had no where else to go.” You voice small and timid.

You waited for her to slam the door in your face but instead she smiled brightly. “I’m so happy you’re okay! I felt so sorry about you death. And some how I even felt sorry for Adam.” She mumbled the last sentence but I still caught it. Adam.

He hated sinners the most. Sure Lute could maybe get behind the fact your one now but she had known Adam longer. Would she choose him over you. If it came down to a choice you’d want her to choose him, so neither of them stayed alone.

“Can I stay for a bit?”

The princess hugged you and showed you around.

—

You had spent the next month getting situated. You found it hard to look in the mirror. You looked so different. A new feature that you had was fangs. They slightly stuck out every now and then. But you noticed when you got mad they’d grow along with your horns.

Today was the same as every other. Wake up, clean around the bar, show sinners to there rooms, go to sleep. Though as you were looking down at the room booking book you heard a voice. A very familiar voice.

“Room for two.”

Adam. You looked up in shock and saw him there Lute right by him. You could see the glare in his eyes.

Adam hadn’t recognized you. But the woman beside him did immediately. Lute felt a sense of happiness wash over her as she saw you. She didn’t care about your new look. All she cared about was that you were here.

The two originally came to completely destroy the hotel and every time they’d rebuild it they wanted to tear it down again.

“A-Adam.” You turned your head to Lute tears of joy and shock in your eyes. “Lute.” Lute gave you the brightest smile you ever saw and was quick to jump over the desk, hugging you.

Adam at first was about to question the hell out of Lute. But when your voice replayed in his head he felt the weight on his chest lift. Was it really you? Did god hear his pleas? “Y/N?” Adam asked, he had to be sure, if this was some joke he’d tear down heaven and hell both.

You looked up over Lutes shoulder and smiled nervous at him. “Hi Adam.” He could hear the nerves in your voice but he didn’t give a shit.

He — just like Lute — jumped over the table and hugged you both. You could feel the breath leaving your body as they started to held you too tight. But you didn’t pull away, finally happy, finally with them. Your heaven. “I missed you guys.” You said to the two. Voice full of love.

“Fuck, I can’t believe you died on us. That totally did not rock.” Leave it to Adam to make his two girls laugh.

Adam felt joy, it had been the first time Lute laughed since the incident. Adam always tried to crack a joke to make her smile, but it was always dimmed.

“I’m a sinner now.” You were scared. This was the moment you were prepared for them to turn their backs on you. But you should have known better, they’d never turn their backs on their sun.

“We couldn’t care less.” Lute pulled away from the hug and cupped you cheek, leaving a friendly kiss on your lips. “Yeah listen to her hot stuff.” Adam spoke and he kissed your other cheek.

Finally with the people who you belonged with.

—

Over the next course of months Adam and Lute would visit you. They talked to Sera and gave the okay on the Hotel. But even if Sera said no, they’d still visit you and every now and then bring a certain snake occasionally.

They two angels had started to noticed you avoiding mirrors and when you saw one you’d just stare at yourself until someone pulled you away.

They watch you look at you reflection out the window. The two sat on your bed, staring at you worried.

Adam was the first to speak, filling the silence in the room. “You okay babe?”

We’re you okay? You didn’t know.

Nothing about you was okay anymore, so you thought. Your white pure angelic wings were now tarnished in black. You’d lost your halo. Nothing about that was okay. But you’d put on a show for them.

“I’m okay, Adam.” You’d never really called Adam and Lute by their names unless you were worried. You’d call Adam, apple and Lute, wild girl. “No your not.” Lute said in her knowing voice. You sighed, you can’t really hide anything from them can you?

“I’m hideous. I’m a sinner, I should be holy and yet I’m a monster.” You could feel the tears looking at your words.

“Your not a monster.” Lute tried to comfort you.

“LOOK AT ME!” You turned to them, horns bigger than normal, fangs longer, eyes glowing red. “This is who I am now!” “And I love you just the same.” She spoke as she made her way to you. Adam unusually quiet.

“How could you love me, when I don’t even love myself?”

Adam shook his head in disbelief at your words. He got off the bed and made his way to you. Cupping your cheeks and looking tenderly into your eyes he spoke. “You should know better than anyone that loving someone isn’t a choice, it’s a gift. You loved me at my worse, of course we would love you through hell and back.” He leaned down and placed a familiar kiss onto your lips. He wrapped an arm around your neck and his other around Lute, pulling you all into a comforting hug.

Maybe, maybe everything would be okay. And maybe Adam and Lute really did love you still.

Who are we kidding, let’s stop with the maybes. They loved you more than ever.

—

HI I’m sorry if this was a bit short, but i hope it brought you the comfort you wanted! Thank you for liking this little journey with Adam, Lute, and Reader. Have a great day! 💛

And a little extra!

You smiled as you squeezed Lutes hand. She had done so good bringing a little girl into the world.

Adam cut the umbilical cord while you took care for of Lute. Adam looked up to you smiling and gestured for you to come to him. “I’ll be right back you wild girl.” You whispered to Lite and walked over to Adam. You looked at the crying baby, she looked just like her dad ironically. “Hold her.” Adam whispered to you. You turned to him in shock. What? You would have thought Adam would want to be the first person to hold his daughter. “Go on.”

You picked her up and started to rock her, bringing her over to Lute, Adam putting his hands on your shoulders lovingly, before giving a kiss to Lute.

Lute cried while she held her baby. Adam crying as well, and gosh you were practically sobbing in happiness.

Some would think you’d be jealous over the two, but that wasn’t the case. You all loved each other equally and you would love that kid as if she were your own. “What’s her name?” The only thing the two had held off on telling you. You didn’t know why, but you were excited to hear what to call the little chipmunk.

Adam and Lute looked to each-other smiling before turning there heads to you.

“Y/N.” The two spoke together and you swore your heart stopped. “What?”

“Y/N. After the person to show us what heaven really is.” Tears flew down your face as you all FOUR hugged.

When little Y/N turned 1, you had been pregnant with two twins on the way. This is what a happy ever after really is. You all three though as you watched Little Y/N playing in the sand. Adam and Lute holding your belly.

—

THANK YOU FOR THE IDEA! This was such a cute scene to write! 💛

Taglist

#hazbin hotel #hazbin #masterlist #adam hazbin hotel #adam is actually hilarious #adam x reader #x reader #lute x reader #hazbin lute #hazbin hotel lute #lute #adam x lute

344 notes · View notes

greenhappyseed · 4 months

Note

did... shiggy just died i-. idk what to feel. So he is not coming bach huh..... :(. OFA is gone too....

I don’t know what to feel either, anon. We really have to wait and see what comes next. But I do think Horikoshi is trying to say something about rebirth, so the rest of this post is going to be something like an elegy for the Tomura Shigaraki we knew (and what that can mean for Izuku): Why rebirth? Why is Tomura doomed? Tomura’s entire existence was tainted by AFO. Tomura can change his name, change his hair color, kill the AFO vestige, etc., but it’s impossible for him to escape AFO. How society would view him or his “redemption” is irrelevant; it’s that HE now knows his entire life, from conception onwards, was never his own. For Tomura, a happy ending is being completely free from AFO, deciding things fully for himself, and knowing his decisions are his own. It’s not a happy ending to remove Tenko from Tomura’s origin trauma only to plunge him into Twice’s “am I really me” trauma.

What AFO’s final, awful reveal showed is that even if Tomura Shigaraki became Tenko Shimura again, it’s not a rebirth. The very first cells of “Tenko Shimura’s” being were stained by AFO since AFO manipulated Kotaro into conceiving Tenko. Tenko’s parents and childhood friends were totally under AFO’s thumb. “Tenko” has no path to freedom; he has to be rebuilt from ash, one way or another.

For my own aesthetic tastes, I would very much prefer for Tenko to have agency over this. If he was going to disintegrate, I’d prefer it to be a clear choice — like Katsuki and Toshinori choosing moves that brought them to the brink of death. I don’t like the idea that Tenko had no choice in life or death, and that disintegrating is just another indignity that AFO manipulated him into. But maybe his story was always destined to be a tragedy, no matter how hard he tried to fight it.

Of course, there are ways that the spirit/consciousness of Tenko Shimura could return in a new body, and many of them do have Tenko participating actively in the process:

Phoenix quirk — Tomura disintegrates to ash so Tenko can choose to be reborn free of AFO’s distortions. (Maybe fandom was right about this theory but wrong that the phoenix was Dabi!)

Overhaul or quirk awakening - It’s possible for Overhaul (who is very much still alive and in possession of his quirk factor) to reverse the disintegration. It’s also possible that Tenko can do it himself (or that Tenko gave Izuku a quirk to do it) since Decay is half of Overhaul. Personally I don’t believe this is likely because I think Decay disappeared when AFO took control of Tomura this final time? Unclear, the end got really rushed and messy on these details for me, but if Decay is gone then it’s hard for it to “awaken.”

Rewind - The MHA standby ever since Eri’s introduction. She doesn’t have her horn anymore, so it seems unlikely, but she still has her quirk factor. The thing here is Tenko’s agency and if he would want to be rewound back to the body that AFO built for him.

All For One - Yes, Tomura could have given Izuku a quirk when they touched. What if it’s actually��All For One? Yoichi said the AFO quirk could have been the kindest in the world…and Izuku did promise to “bring it all back”… so if Tomura’s parting gift was to give the raw All For One power to Izuku, then Izuku could Overhaul and Rewind his way into healing everyone. He could borrow any quirk needed (Recovery Girl? Erasure?) use it as a tool, and then give it back because of course Izuku wouldn’t keep a stockpile for himself (absent being told he could keep a quirk). FWIW, I’d be HIGHLY amused if this happens, because it sounds straight out of a DFO fic. :)

Aura Might/OFA shenanigans - The “heroic fire” of OFA has seemingly gone out before, only to re-emerge both in the same person and in other people. I could see Tenko emerging from this fire.

Wishing energy that twists fate - Izuku and All Might both lived when they were “supposed” to die, so it could happen for Tenko too.

However, Tenko returning in a physical, corporeal form is not the only kind of rebirth that can complete his arc. It pains me SO MUCH to say this, but there’s a real chance his body doesn’t come back. Tomura fought for someone to see what was swept under the rug and understand that hero society isn’t perfect. He wanted a hero who would save him and imperfect humans like him, and he got that someone in Izuku. (He actually got it in Nana too, because of Izuku.)

Izuku Midoriya taking Tenko’s message deep into his heart and influencing all the people watching him to care more about the misfits and “villains” that pro heroes can’t help is a form of giving Tenko a new life. In the same way that the vestiges extended their power decades beyond physical death, and the same way that Shirakumo’s heroic heart survived his death and Nomu-fication, Izuku can keep Tenko’s spirit alive long after his body died. Maybe Tenko’s spirit is a new type of “heroic fire,” and it’s up to Izuku to keep those embers burning. It’s all in Izuku’s rewound, notably non-decayed hands.

Looking at it with this framing, you can also say Izuku gets his win AND save. Because even if Izuku couldn’t save Tenko’s physical body — and how could he if Tenko was doomed before either of them were born? — choosing to carry on Tenko’s legacy IS saving everything he could of that crying boy. It’s also far more immediate and tangible for Izuku to take on Tenko’s legacy rather than being unwittingly thrown into the 200 year old OFA-AFO fight. There’s something so poignant and human about an ending with quirkless Izuku humbly fighting for what Tenko believed in compared to celebrity #1 Billboard ranked hero Izuku with OFA. After all, Tenko and Izuku are 2 sides of a coin. Tenko could have had Izuku’s role in another life if OFA kept passing in the Shimura family.

Even the fact that Izuku never told anyone outside of Ochako, Katsuki, and All Might that he wanted to save Tenko works in Izuku’s favor. Izuku can help the whole world become the people Tenko challenged them to be and they’ll never know they’re actually fulfilling the dreams of a villain. (‘Cuz they’d be too biased to do it otherwise.) Finally, you know all the complaints that Izuku’s character has been stagnant in MHA’s third act? That he hasn’t really been challenged in his ideals? Maybe that hasn’t happened yet because it’s just starting NOW.

After all, Toshinori modeled “All Might” after Nana’s ideals, and she wasn’t known to the population at large. Izuku could follow their footsteps by modeling his hero career after Tenko’s ideals. We’d have multiple generations of Shimuras posthumously changing society for the bettter.

Look, I understand how emotions are running high. I’ve loved this series for years and I cried reading this chapter. I personally don’t love it if Tenko is gone, even though I can make narrative sense of it. It’s a tragic and bitter-barely-sweet ending for poor Tenko, whose very dreams of being a hero were engineered to sow division in his family and break his psyche instead of lift him up.

But none of us will know what it all means for a few more chapters. We could still have several more chapters before we get Tenko’s real finale. It’s nearing the end, but it’s not THE end yet. In the meantime, take care of yourselves and as always, curate your fandom spaces lovingly.

#bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha 423 #mha 423 #tomura shigaraki #Tenko shimura #Elegy for Tomura Shigaraki #mha meta #bnha meta #Izuku midoriya #Deku #Phoenix quirk #AFO #all for one

63 notes · View notes

dreamgothgirl · 2 years

Text

For the First Time: König X F! Reader

Inspired by the Mac Demarco song of the same name

Idk I just hear him when I think of this goofy ah ball of anxiousness

A/N: Hellloooo~ so sorry about the delay for the second part of tensions, I’ve just enrolled in college, got a year older, AND have a brain malformation now so LMAO sorry but shit happens. I’ve also been trying to not let it have lazy, subpar writing so it’s also a matter of quality. I hope this can somewhat suffice for the time being. Sorry this is lazy I just wanted to write :(

WARNINGS: mostly sfw but implied NSFW, suggestive themes

18+

Reader does not have a specific race but is POC friendly as always :)

———————————————————————

He felt like he was in a dream. He had to have been dead on the field to be experiencing this, right, he thought. König never saw a woman as gorgeous and godly as you. A deity; an otherworldly being. You had to be. Everytime he saw you, it felt like the first time.

When you gave him that knee-weakening plea in your eyes as you suckled his thumb and whispered a quiet but lustful, “Please, mein herz.~”

Fuck, he was glad he’d taken the time to teach you his native tongue. It rolled off yours so perfect and melodically like the Gregorian chants of Notredame. Ethereal while it left a haunting but pleasurable tremble run through him to make him feel reborn again.

If he had to choose, König’s favorite parts of you would be your hands, lips, and skin. He didn’t believe you; he even laughed when you told him you were insecure about your skin the first time until you began telling him all the struggles that came with its color and culture.

Everything you assumed you had every right to hate because of it it, König adored. He loved learning about everything you and your people were and accomplished just as much as you liked learning about his own heritage. Even the bad parts he woefully lamented about when that bridge was crossed.

Your hands that caressed his insecurities, scars, and lines on his body before holding his face and playing with his hair drove him wild. There weren’t very many times where he wouldn’t put you in a trance from the longing lust in his seductive eyes when that happened. One of you ended up on your knees every time.

Tonight, those emotions ran fiercer. Your touches were accompanied by the coolness of your new dainty diamond engagement ring while the fiery desire from his fingertips burned and stung your skin like a jolt of pleasurable electricity. It all played like a lucid dream. Unreal, heavenly, and almost like every motion was mirrored like an ethereal fantasia dream sequence.

The synchronization of your sounds was a sensual cacophony of what König would call true love. You; safety and freedom. He whispered against your neck while he peppered delicate, passionate kisses, “I’ve wanted you for so long, meine leibe. I was so scared you’d never feel the same. I’m glad…so glad.”

Your back arched into his body as you exposed your neck more with a hot, breathy moan, “König…you’re all I want. You’re all I’ve wanted..all I’ll ever want.”

His large hand took your own, locking your fingers together as he rutted his hips into the hot space between your legs, slow but assertive, “I’m all yours. I belong to you know, mein leibe. I’ll take good care of you, blume. I’ll never let another man take you away from me.”

The deep growl in his possessiveness made your stomach flip and your thighs squeeze his hips, followed by a whimpering moan, “F-…fuck. I wouldn’t let that happen, daddy. Never.”

His eyes darkened and you let a much louder moan escape your throat in surprise as he gave one strong thrust, “Say that again,” he commanded.

You whined and he slapped your naked thigh, “Quickly. Don’t tease me, darling. Say it.”

“Im…I’m yours…daddy.”

He shuddered and you held back a moan at the jingling of his belt and zipper, “That’s right. Das ist mein mädchen. Now,” he whispered against your stomach, pulling your panties down your already trembling legs, “Lass uns anfangen.”

#fan fiction #comfort #mw2 2022 #konig smut #konig call of duty #konig mw2 #konig cod #cod mw22 #gaming #video games #soft #good vibes #engaged #ghost is babygirl #ghost brain rot #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader

406 notes · View notes

bestworstcase · 4 months

Note

Can I ask where you get your reading on Oz's curse? I'm just not sure where you got your interpretation(?) from

well, from the text…?

i don’t think it’s remotely unclear tbqh.

in the lost fable, light tells him “you will reincarnate, but in a manner that ensures you are never alone.” later in the same, we see that a reflection of the host remains and rebukes ozma when he begins to stray too far from the mandate (“what are we doing?” -> “this isn’t what he asked of me”).

after the cycle begins in earnest, jinn states that “no matter what, his mind would eventually turn back to the task he had been burdened with,” and when she adds that ozma learned the importance of living with his hosts, what we see is an identical reflection of his current self observing him while he serves dinner to his family.

we know—because it has been stated many, many times—that the outcome of the merge is two identical souls sharing one mind. “eventually, you won’t be able to tell who is who anymore,” ironwood tells oscar. that’s what “you will never be alone” means, that ozma very literally cannot ever be alone because he has his reflection watching him. all the time.

now, in 5.3, oz tells the kids this:

For thousands of years, I've walked the surface of Remnant, living, dying, and reincarnating in the body of a like-minded soul. The Professor Ozpin you all met was not my first form, and clearly wasn't my last. It's... an extraordinarily strenuous process on everyone involved.

from this, we can infer that he doesn’t consider himself to be ozpin anymore—to him, ozpin was just the most recent in a long series of like-minded souls whose bodies he inhabited. (this is why i call him ozma: he doesn’t say it in so many words, but the way he talks about ozpin in this episode makes it quite clear that ozpin is not his identity.)

he also says this:

With every rebirth, my soul is eventually merged with another and I am changed, but my memories stay with me.

note the use of passive voice. oz doesn’t say he changes; he says he is changed through the merger of his soul with countless others “who’ve spent their lives trying to protect the people of remnant,” but his memories stay with him once he leaves them. remember what jinn said? “some lives were spent in mourning, many were spent attempting to forget it all, but no matter what his mind would eventually return to the task he had been burdened with.”

his curse is—pretty explicitly—a corrupted version of ascension. when an afteran ascends, they choose what their next life will be—nothing can happen to them in the tree other than what they want—and the blacksmith helps them find their way back to themselves and they’re reborn into their new, chosen purpose. they leave their factual memories behind in the tree, but the heart remembers and the self remains. they change themselves.

ozma agreed to return so he could find salem. that’s what he wanted. his curse has changed him, over and over and over again, to fill the mold of “countless men who’ve spent their lives trying to protect remnant,” and no matter what he does, no matter how he tries to live, eventually he’s pulled back to “the task he had been burdened with.” he is not allowed to put it down. he’s not allowed to change his mind. the curse is specifically designed to prevent this. he doesn’t get to choose who or what he becomes. he doesn’t get to choose his own purpose; his purpose is a burden imposed on him by the god of light. it’s anti-ascension.

and… what happens when ozma decides to join oscar in fighting the curse, in the v9 epilogue? it hurts him. it inflicts pain on both of them while forcibly trying to push ozma forward. the instant he makes a serious effort to disobey, the curse becomes violent and punishes him.

also like. gestures at literally everything else the god of light does, to salem, to darkness, to the jabberwalker. light is terrified of change and obsessed with control; the idea that ozma’s curse is supposed to encourage him to change and grow by experiencing the world through the eyes of other people—other people whom the god of light explicitly disdains as “but a fraction of what they once were” without the brothers’ blessings!—is flatly nonsense. it’s antithetical to everything the god of light believes and values. lol

28 notes · View notes

bronzeagepizzeria · 1 year

Text

just gonna upload some of my one-shots here periodically because ao3 is down and i’m bored

One Day Closer To Death (4.5k)

tentoo/rose +mia, ten & rose, angst, reunions etc

The first thing he notices is the cold.

Well, he sees it, anyway.

He doesn’t feel anything except the burning—scorching and sweltering and rushing through his veins, churning against his very skin. It’s close now, extremely close. He’s waited too long, put it off too much, every cell in his body’s screaming for release, to burn and be reborn, remoulded into a new man.

Just a little longer, he thinks. Begs.

It’s been snowing, wherever he’s landed, and his staggered steps out of the TARDIS leave deep impressions in the crunchy ice. It’s not where he meant to land, he can tell immediately, even in this disoriented state, but there’s something here.

Someone.

He can feel it in the air, buzzing all around him, and wonderfully, impossibly, inside his head—

“You alright over there mate?”

His vision swims as he turns towards the sound, an instinctual arm raising clumsily to wave the intruding party off. Hissing in pain, he presses fingers to the sides of his head. “Don’t,” he tries to say when one of them comes closer, an agonised groan fighting its way out of him before he can.

A throb of pain emanating from his chest makes him double over, the presence in his mind pressing harder and harder against him, unintentionally, if he had to guess, the constant prodding taking on a rhythm almost, building into a deafening crescendo, making his head pound.

“Looks like he’s had a bit much to drink,” another voice adds cautiously, feminine this time. “We shouldn’t—”

He never does find out what she thinks they shouldn’t do, considering his knees choose that very moment to give out, bringing him to the cold ground with a thud that reverberates up his joints.

Pain flares on one side of his face, the snow he’s landed in sizzling quietly with his body temperature skyrocketing as it is. There’s a rush of footsteps, and a large calloused hand tilts his face away from the ground, before letting go with a gasp.

Someone large and heavy looms over him, his mouth making a perfect ‘o’.

“Oh,” the boy says dumbly, blinking. “Oh. Mr. Ty–Mia, it’s—”

Smaller, much gentler hands grasp at his face this time, panicked, and he catches sight of a frighteningly familiar face, framed by long blonde hair.

His breath seizes painfully in his chest.

“What?” She looks at him, and then away, and then at him again, an array of expressions flying across her face, each more confused than the last. “Oh my god,” she hisses, dark brown eyes wide with alarm, palm splayed across his cheek. “Dad?! How did you—when did you—you’re burning up!” She turns to her companion, demanding frantically. “What’s wrong with him? What did you see?”

He wants to tell her he’s fine. He wants to tell her it’s really none of their business, he wants to tell her—

It’s like there’s some sort of delay in transmission, between her voice and his mind, and the weight of what she’s said hits him like a lorry.

“What?” he wheezes out.

“It’s just not possible,” Mia’s saying frantically to the boy, one hand combing through windswept hair. “He’s supposed to be in Switzerland, just called me two hours ago! Said his flight’s—”

There’s something between his ribs, or maybe two somethings, fluttering, soaring, gliding, trembling, with hope, with fear—

He grabs her wrist with unexpected strength, her eyes snapping up to meet his.

And there it is.

That presence again. Pressing against his mind, familiar but not, bubbling with beautiful, terrifying possibility.

It’s been so long.

The girl looks like she’s been slapped, eyes blown wide and unmoving, but she doesn’t withdraw her hand.

There’s a million thoughts searing through his head, a thousand different questions on the tip of his tongue, and yet there’s only one sound he can make.

“Rose,” he breathes, his grip on the girl loosening already, his vision getting more and more clouded. “Rose.”

Mia pales. “It’s alright,” she says out loud, and he suspects it’s more for her benefit than his. “It’s alright. You’re going to be alright.” A smack to the boy’s bicep. “Andy, grab his feet. Help me!”

Gentle fingers run through his damp hair, before the ground disappears from under him.

“You’re going to be okay, Dad,” the girl murmurs, although it echoes around his head, and—there’s that word again. “We’re taking you home, yeah?”

His eyes close as he wonders where that is.

“It’s him,” Mia tells her. “But it isn’t.”

It’s the third time she’s expressed this particular sentiment since Rose opened the front door to find her daughter pleading for help, one very confused boyfriend and one very impossible face in tow.

For the next few minutes, Rose is in a haze almost, like she’s watching this all happen to someone else.

She’s not fully aware of her actions as she helps them move the body onto the bed, carefully shucking his shoes and socks, wetting a clean towel and draping it over his burning forehead.

Waiting.

Nineteen years, she’s seen this body, this face—day and night, and she still can’t look away.

The body in question moves then, and Rose almost jumps out of her skin when he speaks.

“Rose,” he slurs, head rolling towards her, tiny droplets of sweat forming all over his face.

“I’m here,” she says immediately, grabbing his hand without thinking. He doesn’t respond, eyes still screwed shut, and she realises he isn’t awake. Unable to let go just yet, her thumb rubs slow circles over his feverish palm.

“But it isn’t…” Mia murmurs again, having gone silent to observe the interaction. A pause before her eyes widen dramatically, and Rose can see the moment the penny drops, having seen that exact expression on her husband’s face several times. “Do you think—”

“What’s wrong with him?”

It’s Andy who speaks this time, his eyes never leaving the prone body laid out carefully on the bed. He seems to notice them staring at him, a dull flush creeping up his neck. “I only mean…well—he looks different. Younger,” he finishes lamely. “Clean shaven, too.”

“It’s not just that,” Mia says urgently. “Outside—”

Rose interrupts, clears her throat, glancing pointedly at the boy.

He doesn’t take the hint, continuing to look on unabashedly.

It’s an old disagreement at this point, and Mia will usually insist that he can be trusted, (to which her Doctor will snort in that condescending way of his,) but tonight is different, and she must realise how impossible this situation would be to explain.

“Andy,” Mia says impatiently, “give us the room.”

“Oh,” he says, surprised. “Right. I’ll just…”

There’s an awkward few seconds as he searches for something to say, before giving up and turning to leave. He struggles to work around the slightly jammed door long enough for Rose to remind herself that they really need to fix that already, before he pulls it open.

“Mrs. Tyler,” he says solemnly with a nod. “Mia. Good luck with…”

“Thanks,” Mia says shortly, gesturing for him to close the door. She crouches by Rose’s side then, one hand squeezing her mum’s knee. “Outside,” she continues, like there hadn’t been any interruption, “I felt him. In my head. But there’s something wrong with him.” Then quieter, vulnerable, almost like she doesn’t want him to hear, “It’s like…he didn’t know me.

“It could be some sort of de-aging tech,” she says slowly when Rose remains silent. “But it isn’t, is it? Mum?”

“Yeah,” Rose says finally, voice hoarse as if it’s been out of use for hours. She shakes her head to clear it, meeting her daughter’s unusually unnerving gaze.

“It’s him, isn’t it?” she asks, voice low. “The other him…from the other world. It has to be.”

It’s almost as if actually saying it is what does it.

A pained moan, face scrunched up in agony, and Rose snaps out of it.

“He’s waking up,” she says, standing abruptly, her heart racing. “Mia…wait outside.”

“But–”

“Trust me on this, yeah?”

There’s something to be said about the absurdity of the situation when somehow, miraculously, she obeys.

It appears to be not a moment too soon.

There’s something on his face when he wakes.

Something warm and heavy and wet. He raises an arm in an attempt to shift it, except his hand never leaves the mattress. Trying to move makes his head spin. Black spots swim before his eyes.

“Easy,” says an impossible voice, hands guiding him into a sitting position.

He accepts the help willingly, too weak to protest. It doesn’t feel like he’s on fire anymore, but there’s a constant, dull ache echoing through his body, and a part of him wants to never open his eyes again, convinced the pain will be back.

“How long’ve you got?”

It’s the resignation in that whispered question that does it.

He blinks, once, twice.

And she’s there.

Absurdly, he feels the urge to grin.

He’d had her in mind of course, his last trip as this him, he’d wanted to see her, but actually being in the same universe again—the same room—

There’s so much he wants to ask her, so much he wants to say—He wants to know where he is, who the two people who found him are, why he can feel the girl in his head. He wants to know how she’s been, if she’s been happy, if she’s been loved, if she’s angry with him, if she’s missed him.

“Rose Tyler,” he murmurs reverently, his gob failing him as it always does when it comes to her.

Something loosens in Rose at that, and she inhales, her grip on his shoulder tightening imperceptibly, before dropping altogether. Her eyes glisten.

“It really is you,” she says, shaking her head in disbelief. “How?”

“I don’t know,” he tells her honestly. “By accident, I think.”

In truth, it shouldn’t have been possible (and he really thinks he ought to reconsider what that word means at this point) but here he was, without a clue how he’d done it. Here he was, with Rose Tyler.

Perhaps it’s just the universe being kind, this one last favour to him.

His reward.

Rose says nothing, simply nodding once before turning to stare down at her clasped hands.

He uses the moment to observe her more closely. She’s considerably older—her hair longer than he’s ever seen it, her face a little harder, a little more lined—tougher, somehow, but there’s nothing tough about the way she bites her lip before meeting his gaze again, looking for a second, as young as he remembers her to be.

“How long’s it been for you?”

He shakes his head, immediately regretting it when a pang shoots down his spine. “Not too long,” he manages, grimacing. “A few months.”

“It’s been years for us,” she says, a hint of awe in her voice, and he’s surprised by how much the casual mention of his counterpart stings, as much as he’s been vying for confirmation of their…togetherness. “Decades, almost.” A pause. “Never stops to amaze you, does it? What the TARDIS can do? One second you’re someplace and the next…”

She trails off, her eyes wandering to somewhere behind him. He twists around, to much protest from his aching body, trying to see what she’s looking at, only to notice the door to the room they’re in slightly ajar. There’s a flurry of movement then, and the door slams shut, followed by hushed voices arguing.

“Sorry,” Rose winces, finding his gaze again. “I told her to give us some space, she’s just…curious.”

At some level, he’s known since his mind first brushed against hers.

He wonders if it would be better not to know.

“She,” he echoes, because he’s curious as well. “She’s…”

“Yeah,” Rose says softly, her hand finding his, squeezing. “Ours.”

He nods then, several times, unable to stop nodding, really, his eyes flitting to the closed door again.

It’s not like he hadn’t suspected; not like he hadn’t thought of what their lives must be like—it’s almost embarrassing how much he had thought about it—and yet…

They never could have, her and him.

There’s a whole life behind that door, so close yet entirely out of his reach. Always, always out of his reach, the one adventure he can never have.

A home, a routine they have together, and he wants to know it all—know everything, every nook and cranny, the story behind every piece of furniture, every frame on the wall, every callus on her fingers—who picked out the bed frame? Who was better in the kitchen? Who left dishes to soak in the sink for days?

And the girl—

There is so much he’ll never know, let alone experience—and there’s no time for any of it, there never is, not for him, and never for him and her, and isn’t that ironic? The Time-Lord always running out of time?

Rose hesitates. “I could–” she begins, before stopping. “I could call her in. Introduce you properly.”

“Oh,” he swallows, trying his best to keep a neutral face. “Rose—I don’t—I’m not—” His hearts pound furiously against his chest as he grasps for words.

He doesn’t know how to tell her there’s nothing he wants more; nothing he’s more afraid of.

How to tell her that he’s not sure he’d ever be able to leave, if she does.

Some of the sheer panic seizing him must show on his face, because Rose rushes to placate him.

“You don’t have to,” she amends quickly. “Sorry. It was a stupid idea. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

He shakes his head, grimacing, disappointed despite himself. “I don’t want her to think—”

“She’ll understand,” Rose tells him. “I promise.”

He nods some more, eyes blinking away prickliness. It’s for the best, he knows. Just the knowledge will have to be sufficient, will have to be more than sufficient. “A daughter,” he exhales. “That’s…”

“Yeah,” Rose says, nothing but sympathy in her voice, squeezing his hand again before letting go.

“And…the boy?”

“Oh,” she says, as if surprised he’d even asked. “Well, he’s,” she swallows, tilting her head, “you know. Her boyfriend.”

“Oh,” the Doctor says, taken aback. He frowns slightly, trying to visualise the boy again, his hazy mind struggling. Confusingly enough, he feels a small spike of irritation. “Really?” he says before he can stop himself. “Him?”

Rose’s startled for a second, mouth agape. Then she barks out a laugh.“Oh, don’t you start! You really are the same.” Her grin falters slightly, and she adopts a more sombre look. “He’s not half bad if you get to know him a bit, really.”

He shrugs half-heartedly, all too aware he’s never going to get the chance. Suddenly he can’t bear to look at her anymore. He feels his body tensing up against his will, quite unable to make himself relax again.

This is an intrusion, is what it is. This home, this life, this universe.

He simply doesn’t belong.

His palm glows, the undercurrent of energy making its presence known again, almost as a confirmation. Whatever this was, this little window of time he was given, it’s nearly over.

His train of thought is interrupted by an odd noise Rose makes, somewhere between a sob and a laugh.

“Were you always this young?” she chuckles wetly, at his questioning glance, her hand making an odd movement, as if to reach for his face before thinking the better of it. “I must look ancient to you.”

“No,” he says quietly, willing himself to look at her. “Beautiful as ever.”

She gives him a small smile, reaching out again, and this time her hand does make contact.

He watches her almost as if in a trance, incapable of blinking—lest he miss a second—because if this is the only taste he’s ever going to get…

He’s always been a selfish man.

She strokes his cheek gently, her thumb hovering over the innumerable little cuts and gashes adorning his skin. Her palm comes to rest by his jaw, her eyes sad.

“What happened to you?”

He inhales raggedly, trying to focus on the feel of her.

He doesn’t think he could tell her everything, even if he wanted to. He doesn’t want to think about it at all. All he wants is for time to slow down, for this moment to be everlasting—being face to face with Rose again, her palm on his cheek, the quiet sound of her breathing, the faint scent of familiar shampoo—to pretend that this is all there is for him to do now, that there’s no future he’s going to have to face without her.

She seems to sense his reluctance, because she doesn’t push him, simply allowing the heavy silence to linger.

“You should know,” she says after a moment, “I was very angry about what you did. The last time we saw each other.”

He recoils slightly.

Anything, he thinks. Anything but this.

It may have been years for her, since their last meeting, but to him…he simply doesn’t have the strength to be berated about yet another thing he’d done wrong. Not this. He wouldn’t be able to bear it.

“For the longest time, I was,” she continues, unrelenting. “Absolutely furious. Leaving like that, without a word, after everything. Forcing me to choose.”

He shakes his head, a silent plea. If she was upset, if she was unhappy—

It couldn’t have been for nothing.

“But you should know,” she repeats gently, one finger tilting his jaw towards her, “I understand now. And I forgive you.” She pauses, blinking back tears, voice thick with emotion. “ And we can never thank you enough. I can’t imagine how this feels for you. And I don’t know how to make it better. But if it helps,” she grasps his hand again, “you did the right thing.”

The breath he lets out at that holds the weight of the world.

It’s an incredibly Rose thing to do, he thinks. Anchor him, save him. Delve headfirst into the darkness and make everything better.

For one short, miraculous moment, there is no pain at all.

“You’re happy?” he asks her, his voice wavering dangerously.

There is no hesitation in her answer.

“Unbelievably.”

“That’s good,” he tells her, and he’s almost shaking now, “that’s all I wanted.”

His palm glows again; this time, she notices.

“You have to go,” she murmurs sadly. Not a question, but an observation.

He doesn’t respond, can’t respond, pitching forward with the intensity of the jolt that goes through him then, grounded only by the quick hand Rose places on his sternum.

When he exhales, golden mist drifts from his lips, and they watch together as it floats towards the ceiling before dissipating.

Mia’s waiting alone, Rose notices with some relief, when they manoeuvre their way into the kitchen, the Doctor leaning on her heavily, her arm around his waist.

“Mia,” she calls, “help me out. Get on his other side.” She feels more than sees the Doctor tense at that, squeezes his arm in reassurance. “Not now,” Rose tells her when she joins them, mouth halfway open to say something. “We’ll talk later. Promise.”

The TARDIS isn’t far, Mia tells her, and so they make their way out of the house slowly, hobbling along like the oddest participants in some sort of three-legged race, except no one’s particularly looking forward to reaching the finish line.

The Doctor needs a bit of a rest every few seconds, and Rose’s chest tightens with worry every time he breathes out golden fog—she’s never seen him so ill, not the first time he’d regenerated, not even during those first few hours in Norway. He feels uncomfortably hot, despite the biting cold around them, the unnatural heat reaching her even through the layers of clothing between them.

She thought she’d gotten over this, this ache at the thought of having him and not.

It’s surprising how much the anticipation of this separation still hurts.

The thought of him having to return to her old universe, alone, in this condition, makes her feel ill, but she pushes those feelings aside.

There would be time for that yet. Right now, they needed her.

Her daughter’s being incredibly brave; despite her constant glances at the man between them, Mia says nothing.

A sense of fierce pride takes root in her, alongside deep melancholy. She knows, better than most, what it’s like to be confronted with the existence of someone who is your father but also…isn’t.

She concentrates on placing one foot in front of the other.

A weak squeeze of her arm signals their arrival.

The TARDIS is exactly as she remembers it, the ridiculously brilliant police-box looming over them, humming with energy. The Doctor braces himself for a second, before untangling himself to stand on wobbly feet. He’s sweating like he’s run a marathon, his eyes blurry and unfocused, yet trained on her.

“Well,” he says as lightly as he can manage, “that’s me.” He gives a sad sort of shrug, one hand pushing against the TARDIS door, which whines pitifully as it swings open.

She’s a little disappointed, but she isn’t surprised, entirely familiar by now with his dislike of goodbyes, almost being able to muster up a smile as he gives her one last nod of acknowledgement.

“But wait,” Mia says, and he stops, startled, turning to stare at her. She looks at the Doctor, and then at Rose, eyes glistening. “I don’t—” she whispers, her voice small and unsure, and all Rose wants to do is wrap her up in her arms.

“Dad?”

There’s this eerie sense of déjà-vu then—she recalls standing in this very universe for the first time, pleading with her dad, and she recalls how it had felt when he’d rejected the sentiment. Her heart breaks at the thought of her baby experiencing that sort of…refusal and she turns to look at the Doctor as well, eyes beseeching.

The Doctor for his part stands stockstill; his face doesn’t betray a single emotion.

Enough time passes in silence for Rose to feel increasingly uncomfortable.

She has an idea of how difficult this is for him, having seen him be a father for the last sixteen years—and he loves it now, he does, takes to it like it’s what he was made for—but it hadn’t always been easy for him.

She remembers how he’d struggled at the beginning, that paralysing fear that would overtake him—he’d had children before, and they’d died—fear that something would happen again, and he wouldn’t be able to survive it this time, not with her, not with them, not with this one fragile human life that had no do-overs.

Her heart breaks for the both of them; the two people she loves most in the world, afraid and in pain, and there’s nothing she can do to make it better.

“Mia…” she begins softly, voice dripping with sympathy as her arm reaches out for the girl. “I think—”

And then he moves.

He doesn’t make a sound as he does, taking the few trembling steps to close the distance between them, shaky hands coming up to frame Mia’s face ever so gently, like he’s afraid to touch her, closing his eyes.

A man in prayer.

It occurs to her that they’re conversing in their minds, a moment so private between father and child that she has to look away for a moment.

Seconds stretch into years as Rose watches, the unspeakably tender exchange making her overly conscious of every loud breath she takes.

Snow falls around them, delicate flakes settling in Mia’s hair, before the Doctor brushes them off carefully, pressing his lips to her crown.

He’s pale and unsteady when he turns to face her, but she swears there’s an upturn to his lips that’s genuine.

“Rose Tyler,” he enunciates in that way of his, grabbing her hands, squeezing. “I suppose this is goodbye.” His tone playful, but lacking any real humour or warmth.

“You gonna be alright?” she can’t help but ask, folding her arms.

He swallows, eyes flitting about, and she’s almost certain she knows what he’s going to say, how he’s going to deflect, but then he looks at her again, jaw tightening. “I don’t know,” he confesses quietly. “But seeing…all this…it makes it easier.”

She nods, using the heel of her palm to rub at her eyes, before smiling tentatively. “Can I..?”

The Doctor takes a second to understand what she’s asking for, before nodding. Her arms wrap up around his shoulders, crushing him to her. He’s still for a moment, before he hugs her back with equal vigour, melting into her, his skin warm and sticky.

She knows this body so well, has become so intimately familiar with it over the past nineteen years and still, it feels like it’s been forever.

“It’s not really goodbye, you know,” she tells him, her voice slightly muffled as she presses a hard kiss to his shoulder. “It never really is.”

“What do you mean?” he asks, confusion colouring his voice. “Rose, I swear, I really don’t know how it worked this time—”

“No,” she laughs wetly, unable to suppress the sheer fondness spreading through her. “No, I meant…it might be goodbye for us right now, but in five years…we’ll go see Woman Wept together. In three thousand years we’ll save Madame de Pompadour from killer robots. In the year five billion, you’ll take me to watch my planet explode. And in two hundred thousand years…the Game Station.”

She pauses to look at him, this beloved face, hoping beyond hope that this is of some comfort to him, that he knows she is grateful, grateful for his sacrifice, for everything he has given them.

His eyes are dark, full of emotion he can never voice.

She swallows the lump in her throat. “And you’ll be here,” she says thickly. “With us. Everyday. You see? Somehow, somewhere, we’ll always be together.”

It’s not much, but she thinks he understands when he tightens his grip on her, his nose in her hair; takes several long, deep breaths, like he’s trying to inhale her essence itself.

As closely entwined as they are, she feels every tremor that goes through him, every surge of energy, until he pulls away, a rueful smile on his face.

“It’s time,” he says simply, glancing upwards, looking to the sky for something she can’t see, and then back at her, his entire being glowing faintly. “I’ll see you later.”

“Not if I see you first,” she echoes weakly. His lips twitch at that, a small, fragile thing.

And then he is gone.

#my fic #rose tyler #tentoo #tentoo x rose #tentoorose #tenth doctor #tenrose #ten x rose #timepetals #doctor x rose #mia tyler #ficandchips

63 notes · View notes

poisonheadcrabsalesman · 2 years

Text

Little thing written based on @clovis-bray-ate-my-son's post here about Fractures: FIREWALL. Cool ideas about more ways to hurt John Halo

Cortana was gone.

The Created had begun to fracture, but one of her most loyal had remained. Sloan had reached through the ashes and found them. Remnants. Ghosts.

Catherine Halsey was meticulous in the documentation of all her works. Logs, measurements, brain scans, and even tissue and blood samples all locked away. What was more troubling to Sloan was the obvious care and affection with which Cortana had sequestered these datapoints away and the name that lingered in the echoing fragments of Her dying embers. Something like an unmade promise lingered in the space between files. Hopes of family, seen one last time.

The FIREWALL contingency had already been set in motion with prime candidates being ensnared by the simulation and bending to the inevitable. His purpose had been redefined, Sloan would not sit idly by and see all the work undone, because of weakness towards old pets.

She had always had so much faith in that particular Spartan.

Sloan would not see him succeed in Her absence. FIREWALL was live and flesh and blood would be subsumed and remade into something more. Circuits given souls, like phoenixes, these Spartans would rise again as something new, reborn in their image.

Sloan lingers over the files and chooses his new warriors.

Grace 093. James 005. Will 043.

There's more names, more files and samples. Entire bodies supposedly jettisoned after augmentation failure. More than enough material for Sloan to work with. ONI and their human greed for knowledge and power would be the exiled human's undoing. Their own protectors would rise under a new banner.

The advances made with Chimera would make them into the pawns he needed them to be.

It's cold when they come to, but it's familiar. The pain of being reborn is close enough to cryo they don't notice it, too lost in a quick reunion before another twisted familiarity rings through the room.

“You have been called upon to serve." - The voice is wrong, not hers, but the message plays, drawing up the memory of being small and alone together in that auditorium - "There will be a great deal of hardship on the road ahead, but I know you will make it.”

Muscles move on their own. Synapses fire, electricity spurs the meat into movement. Memories are fresh and sharp but the minds holding them fog over under the commands.

The first Executors are deployed.

John 117 ducks behind cover as an explosion kicks up dust and debris rains down.

Whoever he's fighting is good with grenades and reads his movements with ease. He's old, but not rusty. Joints ache, muscles burn, and scars itch under his armor. He’s always in a state of half-healed injuries these days - feeling more like scar tissue than Spartan.

This new threat is skilled, smart, and what's worse is they work together like a team. He hasn't found any openings to pick them off as they push their line forward and cut off his options. His own team is gone, swept off to parts and missions unknown as this new threat grows and The Master Chief is alone again.

Their armor is new and strange, more of a mix of limb replacements and direct augmentations than a Mjolnir-like exoskeleton. Numbers are emblazoned on their breastplates, familiar enough to sting when he reads them.

Numbers he hadn't seen in decades, save for when he closed his eyes. Numbers that brought Mendez's voice back to the forefront of his mind.

These soldiers, fighting for the Created, moved like Spartans, worked together like Spartans.

And they bore the numbers of his dead siblings.

Worse still, they had the same tells, the same body language that only someone who knew them would recognize. He was no stranger to psychological tactics, but this was another level.

A whistle sounds over the battlefield, the six note tune turning his stomach to stone, but the reply call is there on his lips. Ready to signal “family, safety”.

But they weren’t anymore. Wasted or spent, he was one of the only ones truly left.

These were shadows wearing their numbers and he couldn’t let them win.

#my writing #Halo Infinite #John 117 #Halo Fractures #frag out. might explore this more later

54 notes · View notes

kingdoms-and-empires · 2 years

Note

I chose the OP option (because I can't decide which stats I wanna focus on 😭) and I developed a little head canon to explain why my character is good at everything. In his former life he was less than OP. He was one of those people who have potential, but never applied himself, out of a mixture of laziness, procrastination, and a crippling fear of failure! When he died he was extremely disappointed in himself. He always figured that he'd pull himself together in the future, but now he's dead and he never achieved anything he wanted, other than gathering some useless facts (like maybe ancient technology such as the treadwheel crane perhaps 👀). When he got his second chance he decided he was gonna make full use of it. The instant he was able to comprehend the language of the world and was able to read, he'd sneak books and accelerate his education through reading things someone as young as him shouldn't understand. He also would go through physical training, again in secret, and watch the guards train in swordsmanship in hopes of picking something up. Since for years he had little to no responsibilities, and the mind of an adult, he has been able to devote almost all his time to developing his mind and body

TL;DR: my MC went from a procrastinator to a try hard and it payed off

Nice headcanon!

i think alot of people would be similar if they had their old memories and would give themselves a strong head start

Its really interesting to think about how you'd really act in a similar situation to the MC as you yourself.

The MC is canon to be "good" from the start, and its up to the player to choose how the MC progresses over time...honestly the best reincarnation works ive seen out there arent the traditional Isekai protag animes, its actually works that deal with a woman being reincarnated or isekai'd. Either a reincarnated villainess trope, or general isekai trope work, the ones with female leads are generally better in my opinion since it usually aint a power fantasy

Eh idk where i went with all this but it was fun to think about haha, so thanks!

Oh, some of my favorite anime that deal in reincarnation and isekai with female leads or kingdom simulators in general that do it well with male or female leads are these:

Fuuuuuck youre making me break out my old bookmarks and im seeing my mangas are now updated with new chapters...dozens of new chapters!!!! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I WANNA STOP WRITING AND READ INSTEAD

This one has adorable art that I feel in love with as the MC starts as a baby lol, and the MC is competent, which is really nice

The MC is alright, she tries doing stuff to get out of shitty circumstances but the real highlight of the story are the titular Monster Duchess and her husband. Nooo idea how it is now but theres literally double the chapters now from where i left of and im so tempted to read lolololol

OMFGGGGG I FORGOT ABOUT THIS!! This is a fav of mine since it deals with the cinderella story! The MC is a reincarnated chick who plays as the evil stepmother in cinderella's story, but omfg its such a good twist on the trope and it really does alot of things well, and THERES SO MANY NEW CHAPTERSSSSSS

YOOOOOOOOOO I forgot this one too lmaoooo ima bad fan haha

Anyways, this is another great subversion of the reincarnating trope since the MC is on her THIRD reincarnated life, and she actually conquered EVERYTHING in her second life. But she got betrayed and killed by people and she said mannnnnn fuck this, ima get hitched with the dude who was nice to me in my old life and never asked for shit! And so begins a funny as romance story lol, GOD DAMN AND THEYRE ON THE SECOND SEASON NOOOOOOW

Someone either here or on Discord recommended this to me, and whoever did so, I love you! This is a weirdly realistic take on the historical figures of the Sengoku period having to deal with this weird girl who appears to have come out of nowhere but knows a bit of practical modern knowledge that helps Oda Nobunaga win some victories. Honestly, i really appreciate how grounded it is for a manga! The truth of the matter is, we really wouldnt be able to do that much if we were in her shoes either lol!

Bruhhhh when i tell you i squealed when i saw how many chapters this has now! Without a doubt, this is my favorite! The MC is hyper competent, she uses her femineity to her advantage and doesnt fight against it like other works do when they wanna show their female lead "isnt like other girls", and shes honestly such a joy to watch running circles around other people that screwed her over in her past life. Read this one for sure!!!!

Another competent female lead how got reincarnated and has to survive death flags by marrying one of the romance options, but the world system keeps screwing her over and its funny to see how she has to navigate trying to romance obviously shitty romance options who sound really hot (like the enemies to lovers trope would NOT be easy in real life lmao) or (the crazy mfer who makes you scared but horni)

Read this and then decide if you'd survive lol

AHGHGHGHHHH This is so good!!! Basically a girl has to become the stepmother to children how are close in age to her. She tries to do things her own way at first, but she dies. So she gets reincarnated and tries to do better the second time around. If you wanna read a good female lead doing introspection and learning from her past mistakes, read this. Its really good!

Alrighty. This is honestly a guilty pleasure, and should really be read after reading alot of villainess or female lead reincarnation manga to basically cleanse your palate with this funny ass story lol. Instead of playing by the rules of society like the previous stories, the main character does "not like other girls" very well and its enjoyable to watch lol! Use it once you get tired of the previously mentioned ones!

Annnnnnd that's it! Thank you for making me out myself lmaooooo

#kingdomsandempires #question #manga #villainess isekai

77 notes · View notes

mysterybooks-world · 7 months

Text

Hello guys

I have another one of the reincarnated storys

it's from the Hazbin Hotel series

warning: To watch the series, you must be of age 18 or above

but there is a twist.

y/n reborn as Alastor's father

I've seen many fan art & comic dubs & animatic about Alastor's father being a terrible person.

But some others make him such a good father in the aus.

I read this about Alastor's mother

But not much information about his father

Just this information: Around the late 1800s, she became involved with a Caucasian man and would go on to have a son who became known as Alastor. Shortly after Alastor's birth, her partner abandoned both her and Alastor to avoid possible persecution for being involved with a woman of Creole descent, leaving her to raise Alastor on her own.

So listen

y/n is big fan of (hazbin hotel)&(helluvaboss)

y/n 've read or Watch everything about them Such as theories & fan stories & they songs & y/n even read the comic Origin of hazbin hotel

you can say y/n they are a nerd

One day, y/n are now dead Then you became Alastor's dad

When y/n died they woke up they found themselves In another body,

At first they understand what is happening And when they looked in a mirror It was a reflection of a young man.

y/n when they touch the mirror Suddenly images of memories the owner if this body

(Important note: I couldn't find Alastor's father's name So choose a name for him. else I found on that Alastor fall name is Alastor Hartfelt)

So your name :(Oliver Hartfelt)

y/n they jaw dropped Out of shock. Then y/n took a deep breath Until they nerves calm they down And you understand the situation.

y/n: Okay, I'm in a stranger's body and his name is Oliver Hartfelt

mmm Why the name of Hartfelt sound Familiar

What kind of world am I in.

Usually When I read about This is a kind of storys I may be in a novel or game.

Is there any kind of guide or user guide

They were answered by A blue screen in front of them

and there is Info about me

y/n: Well, this is useful and I have read the writin.

and here my second time my jaw dropped From what they read

y/n:Okay, The bright side I'm in a world of hazbin hotel

OMG I do not believe this. This is like a dream come true But there is one problem

I AM THE FATHER OF AlASTOR

What a disaster

I know very well from the fandom that Alastor did not mention anything about his father

Because he was a bad person and There is also a theory that Alastor kill him

Of all the characters why me. No need to panic

As it seems Oliver have not met Alastor's mother

Then the screen changed Written on a screen say

I must get married to Alastor's mother and of If I fails to do it, then Alastor will no longer exist in the world

y/n panic again: WHAT.

Get a hold of yourself, y/n. You can do it

Although if I fails, I will destroy the future

without Alastor Things will change for the worse.

TO Make it a short

Oliver Try to win a Alastor's mother heart And there was a lot of drama

But in the end they succeeded Marry to her.

Oliver thinking about a work career to Radio host Because they knows that Alastor was a radio star host When he was alive

So you make things easier for Alastor when he grows up

This is exactly what happened

Oliver have a radio station building And Oliver became famous And learn some information about radio and he buy books about radio information or how to repair the radio for Alastor when he grows up

And when Alastor was born, He didn't realize he was crying tears of joy When he was holding Alastor in his hands And in is mind Curse The owner of the body, he knew, he would leave them in this part

But he is not him, he is someone else So he will care his family

Oliver skill set level up When he learns a new skill

Oliver hobbies

1-Playing musical instruments. 2-Hunting gun 3-Taking pictures of Alastor. (Oliver has a whole collection of books about pictures of Alastor and the stages of his life) 4-drawing 5-Making handmade things such as

Alastor is amazed at the things dad creates.

Alastor When he was young thinks his father was Kind of is a magician.

when Alastor grows up he became a Radu star like his father

And when Alastor began his career in notorious and elusive serial killer in secret After his mother died from an illness

There was a detective who caught Alastor while he was hiding the body

But suddenly Someone stabbed him behind the back in the heart

And this person is Oliver is dad

Alastor stood shocked While his father carries the investigator's body

Oliver: son Don't stand like this, quickly, let's hide the bodies

And after they returned home

The next day

Alastor asked his father How long did he knew he was the killer?

Oliver: From the beginning But I won't ask why you're doing this

Oliver: I'm not a person to judge people

Oliver: Sometimes the best people are the ones who are not perfect

Alastor hugs his father and says: thanked dad

Oliver: No problem. I think you are the most handsome killer, he added

Alastor Embarrassed: Dad no

Oliver: Dad yes

Oliver continues to tease Alastor

His father would help him kill people sometimes

Oliver told Alastor about a strange story he had with an old man

The old man tells him About hell When he was a child

Oliver lied about an old man. He wanted to tell Alastor about hell when he fell and Alastor would be prepared in hell

Of course Oliver can't tell Alastor directly

Alastor will ask him how he knows all this

So he made up a fake story about a mysterious old man who told him about how hell works when he was a child

One day

But someone tried to kill Alastor With bullets But his father protected him

And that's how Oliver died

Anyway

This is the form of a demonic Oliver.

Oliver tried to make it a coincidence to meet Lucifer And he succeeded

Lucifer like Oliver handmade things Especially the duck part

You can say Oliver became like his advisor

But after some time Lucifer started to see Oliver as father figure Not only him

Mammon Queen Bee-lzebub Asmodeus Belphegor Stolas Goetia

I've read some fan stories & fan comic that The rulers of hell are Lucifer's siblings

I imagine Asmodeus asks for love advice from Oliver And he talks about how he love Fizzarolli

You could say he became like a royal father to them

LOL

Do you guys remember (episode 5 Dad Beat Dad)

In a song

Hell's Greatest Dad Sing-Along | Hazbin Hotel

Alastor tried to annoy Lucifer by taking his daughter's attention away from him

however, Later Lucifer found the perfect revenge

Lucifer sent some pictures of him and Oliver to Alastor With a message says Your dad is my dad now

Nene Nene Nene Nene.

Alastor went crazy with anger and jealousy

Alastor Knew his dad was in hell With him Because his dad always visited him at his home

however, Oliver didn't tell Alastor With his relationships with the most powerful demons

Because he knows that his son will use him for more power

(note: y/n as Oliver is loves and adore his son Alastor. So if Alastor is sad or frustrated because of him.

Oliver will give very little power and information Until he sees him smile)

Here's the funny part of my story

In the past

Alastor with Vox talk about work

When Oliver suddenly came

Alastor: Hello, Dad how are you

Oliver: hello, son So who is your friend?

Alastor: Dad meet Vox, vox Meet my dad

Vox: Nice To meet you

They shake hands

In the middle of the conversation

Oliver said to Vox What do you think of my son

Vox: He is a good friend, even though he is Trickster

Alastor: Thanks for complimenting me

Vox rolls his eyes:

Oliver: you know Alastor

Oliver: I think you and Vox will be very wonderful couple

Alastor spat out his Coffee while Vox choke on a biscuit

Oliver smiles a devilish smile And continue by saying It's good that you found someone for you son

Alastor: DAD

Vox: Blushing with embarrassment

Oliver: so vox Let me show you some pictures of Alastor when he was a child

Alastor took the photo book and burned it

Oliver Take out another Copy photo book

Alastor did the same thing a hundred times

Alastor:How many copies do you have?

Oliver: Plenty Because I know you'll burn the pictures

Oliver show vox pictures while telling stories about pictures while Alastor hits his head on a table from embarrassment.

Yes, I know, I'm evil

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #Alastor's mother #Alastor's father #helluva boss #helluvaboss #au #my au #Oliver Hartfelt

11 notes · View notes

geschrie-sixtyne · 2 months

Text

DISCLAIMER: I am not Russian, I have read and played the games, but any errors I am open to hear

Name: Aleckshyv Arkadynov/ Алексшив Аркадинов

Aliases: Aleck o Arkasha/ Аркаша, Алек

Gender/Pronouns: Male, Him /He

Sexual/Romantic Orientation: Demisexual/IDK

Age: 27 años

Birthdate: 17/08/2006

Occupation: Founder of the "Kremlin Stars" faction (I created that name today, I will still choose another name..maybe)

Height: 1.90

Build:It is a normal type with a rectangular but strong body.

Skin Tone: Albino and sickly dirty red

Hair: White and grayish dirty

Eyes: Some say gray, others say green, and others say blue.

Identifying Marks: A scar that cuts his nose

Appearance:

He wears a jumpsuit similar to that of a mechanic that he has modified to his liking, a bulletproof vest with eyes painted on his chest that reflect light and scare novices, He wears old firefighter gloves because his hands are sensitive in certain areas and have many cuts or calluses due to it,It is also very sensitive to sunlight and that is why it is covered in every way. , a red sweatshirt under his entire outfit and lastly a sports tank top On his shoulder he has the faction logo

Personality: Very caustic, he is and considers himself erudite, with refined and very clear speech, he uses many book references when expatiating or when using sarcasm.Studious to the teeth, distrustful and very observant, he does not usually give in to twist his hand. He is manipulative and knows what to say to stay on top. But at the end of the day he only does what he believes is right, because he lives hating the war, he saw the psychology of it and how it mentally affected everyone and he hates it, he loves the culture and seeks to protect the little that it considers real

Motivations: He loves culture, studying, learning and rationalizing, he loves the emotions that understanding things provokes and he only knows that he prefers to fight for something that could lead humanity to be reborn than for false things.

Current Goal: Release the great library of creatures called 'Librarians'

Life Goal: Although he is an extremist, he wants to fortify the library itself to ensure its use and maintenance (an overly ambitious wish).

Best Quality: Has an iron determination

Worst Quality: Forget that he is also human and can have breaking points ,Sunlight really hurts his skin, he have to go ultra covered.

Fears: The total loss of culture

Hobbies: Read, polish his weapon with a dirty stick ,Go to the surface, study human behavior

Talents: High information retention, Strategic

Skills: Recognize texts, read maps, learn quickly,Considerable aim and very patient

Difference between this group and the Brahams: They do not seek knowledge through the subway, they go directly to the surface to the library , they know they are going to die and they don't have to, they plan each shot to study the library and be able to draw plans to eliminate the librarians ,They want to share knowledge, they want everyone to be able to go to the library again in freedom as long as the culture is respected, because they believe that it is important to share knowledge. It would be something very absurd to be able to create a safe environment in the library and even more so knowing that the Polis is nearby, but it would be appropriate for there to be a response group that ensures it in rounds.In addition to the fact that they are not very charitable towards the Brahames and the ideas of the Polis of being reserved with knowledge

#drawing #digital art #digital painting #art wip #oc x canon #metro last light #metro 2033 #metro exodus #post apocalyptic #metro oc #sixtyne #oc art #my ocs #oc #my art lmao #my art #Au #ideas #concept art

5 notes · View notes

web-novel-polls · 11 months

Text

Silliest Pre-Isekai Death Tournament Submissions

Who died in the silliest and clownishness of fashions? Who's death makes you go, "how did that even happen?" Submit the silliest pre-isekai death here!

Rules

Must be a character that has been Isekai-ed (reborn in another world).

Reincarnation into the same world or revival (where the character is essentially the same) does not count unless a considerate amount of time has passed. If a character is immediately revived (Ex: Morlock from Handyman Saitou), it does not count

Please describe how they died. It can be only a few words, but feel free to write as much as you want

Submissions CLOSED

Tag: #silliest pre isekai death tournament

Current Character List below the cut

[Last Updated: February 3rd, 2024]

(Submit these characters to make sure they get in & add propaganda!)

Reinhardt from The Demon Prince Goes to the Academy

Cause of Death: High blood pressure from reading mean comments on his novel(s) :(

Submission:

He was a writer and his novels were SO shitty. Every novel had shallow characters, tons of plot holes, and it ended up with "and then meteor hits and everyone dies". The readers were, simply put, NOT happy. They constantly wrote stuff like "what the hell is going on in author's head?!?" "the author can't even do basic story telling i could rewrite it even without trying"

Reinhardt saw these comments and... dropped dead on spot. That's right. He died of haterz.

When he saw own body, plopped dead on keyboard before a screen with displayed haters, there was a grim reaper. Turns out, he pissed off SO many people and to such level, it amassed him bad karma to such degree he was going to go to hell

That's right, shitty writing is a SIN and he was NOT going to see the pearly gates of heaven

To atone for the greatest sin of being pisspoor writer, instead of going to hell, he was given other option, to live as a character in one of his novels. But, as said before, they were Bad. None had a happy ending. So he only could choose a lesser evil.

Which, turned out to be a character in an initial setting, meaning right under the siege.

Shen Qingqiu from The Scum Villain's Self-Saving System

Submission 1:

He died from reading this long running webnovel that he would faithfully pay for legally, abd then rip apart every little thing about it he didnt like. It was bad. He read the last chapter, and was so angry either he ate spoiled yogurt when he wasnt looking and died of food poisoning, or choked to death on a bun. Later he would meet the author who also isekaied into it, and then said author would say that he was a super fan.

Submission 2:

died from choking on a bao lmao loser (affectionate) and then tripped on some wires and extra-died by electrocuting himself

Submission 3:

Okay it gets a bit complicated here but. There are a few versions of how it happened. In the first he is reading shitty Web novel and gets so fucking angry at the ending that he just spontaneously combusts and isekai's into the scum villain in the very novel he was flaming. In the second be chokes on a bao (while flaming the novel's ending) and dies, again isekai'ing into the scum villain. The only fact that makes the second death funnier is that the novel he is reading is a heterosexual harem collecting story that is slowly changed into gay fantasy romance through the events of SVSSS's plot, which makes the "choking on balls to death" thing so fucking much funnier

Shen Qianling from Everywhere in Jianghu is Wonderful

Submission: The ceiling above him broke just as he was receiving his first ever acting award. RIP bro and good luck on your new gay marriage (the transmigration freebie)

Shang Qinghua from The Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System

Submission: Got too excited roasting a hater which lead to him spilling his noodles which led to him electrocuting himself. All because he was making fun of mr.Peerless Cucumber's masochistic attachment to his novel

Ye Jiayao / Ye Jinxuan from Meng Qi Shi Shen (donghua) / Cinderella Chef

Submission: A celebrity chef who accidentally poisoned herself while trying to create a new recipe. RIP girl what the hell were you thinking. What the hell were writers thinking.

Myne / Urano Motosu from Ascendance of a Bookworm

Submission: Titular 'bookworm' who got crushed to death under a pile of books. This did nothing to diminish her love for reading though. Too bad she reincarnated into a world where printing press wasn't invented yet...

[REJECTED] Octavian from Heroes of Olypmus

Submission: my dude was preparing an onager [old roman catapult], and he was wearing too much gold, and ended up getting thrown when the onager fired, firing him along with it. MY BOI DIED BECAUSE HE HAD TOO MUCH DRIP. [he doesn't have a canon last name either 👁💧👄💧👁]

Image Link

REJECTED - Octavian was not Isekai-ed or reborn. He just died.

Dealer’s Choice

Boxxo from Reborn as a Vending Machine, I Now Wander the Dungeon

A lover of vending machines that died trying to save a vending machine from falling off the back of a truck over a cliff

Pastry from Sweet Reincarnation

Cause of Death: crushed by a giant candy sculpture

#submissions #silliest pre isekai death tournament #not a poll #tumblr tournaments #character death #character death mention #queue #my submissions

8 notes · View notes

millenari · 4 months

Note

2 for wip ask game? Time travel is a crazy concept

Number 2, the timetraveling 7kittens au! This one is inspired by the 'pulled seven kittens out of a hat' line from Misto's song that people often hc to mean that Misto is trans and has given birth to kittens before. This au is an offshoot of Gold Rush, in which only a few elements are changed (most notably that Misto is trans). The story starts when, one night on the junkyard (perhaps only a year or two prior to the events of the show) a group of seven kittens come trotting into the junkyard, claiming to be Tugger and Misto's litter from the future. The kittens have no idea how they got stuck in the past (and had no idea they'd even moved through time at first) so Misto and the others are stuck taking care of the little guys while all the resident magical cats try to put their heads together and figure out how the litter got there, and why. I don't want to call this story 'dark' but it could be severely triggering for some people, because it has a lot to do with Misto struggling with dysphoria due to his heats and the idea of becoming pregnant in the future. The concepts of choice and fate and destiny and such are tossed around a lot, and Misto spends a lot of time struggling with the feeling of having no control of his body. He has to wrestle with these feelings all the while he grows fonder and fonder of the kittens he'd initially resented, and also has to re-evaluate his relationship to Tugger along the way. And if all of that wasn't complicated enough, one kitten of the litter in particular, Victor, is a little too much like Misto for his own good. Or at least, Misto thinks so. Another way too long summary. Anyways, snippet:

Misto waves his paws a little, incredulous. “Don’t you want to know if you actually make your own choices?”

“No. Because I know I do.” Reaching over, Tugger rips a small chunk off of Misto’s fish, and then proceeds to chuck it across the clearing. He’s lucky it’s empty right now, or he would’ve probably hit someone.

“Tugger!” Misto barks, taken aback.

“See? I just chose to do that. I know that for a fact.”

“And if every existing— existing universal iteration of you did that exact same thing at this exact same time? Is it still you choosing?”

“Yes. You know how I know?”

“How?” Misto sighs.

“Because I chose to. Just now.” When Misto groans again and leans back against the crate behind him, Tugger smugly adds, “Put that one in your diary.”

“Do you really not care about any of this?”

“What? Destiny? No. A bunch of shit happens and then we get reborn into a new life. And then a bunch of shit happens again. Repeat for eternity. We’re cats, Misto, how much does any of this matter?”

“Because I want to know where I’m headed!” Misto exclaims up at the stars, gesturing at his chest. “I want to know if there’s any point in fighting against— my destiny, or my future, or whatever.”

“You don’t need to ‘fight’ your destiny at all, Misto.”

“That’s easy for you to say!” Misto exclaims, sitting up to look over at Tugger. “You were born in the right body! All I fucking do is try to work against what the universe hands me, and if there’s a possibility that there’s no point in it and I have no say—”

“Then what?” Tugger asks wryly. “You’ll just stop?”

Misto pauses. He scratches his nose before admitting, “Well. No.”

“There you go. Just do your thing, Misto.” He leans back against the crates, folding his arms behind his head. “Who cares about destiny and shit.”

#cats fan on main #thank youu! :D

6 notes · View notes

idontknowmyownmind · 2 years

Text

WS and OG!Cale sibling AU

Older WS and Younger OG!Cale

3 to 5 years age gaps

When WS is cursed, Cale also affected

But they are immune to each other's curse

So, while everyone they love eventually died snd leaving them, they still have each other

The reincarnation circle (I'm not sure how it work so most part is just another AU) between them are different

WS, rather than reborn he, is possessing someone's body randomly

While Cale, also rather than reborn he, is regressing into three years old body of his but still with his memories intact

They love each other and try their best to maintaining their live as best as it can be

But unfortunately, Despair influence on WS get stronger over time

And then we have TBOAH timeline

How Cale become Henituse you ask?

After WS became worse, Cale started to think that maybe the only way to protect and stop his brother is not by staying by his side

So in his next regression, he leave and found by Jour and Deruth

In this AU, Jour is unable to have children

And for the first time in millennia, Cale discover the love of a mother

All this time, it's only him and his brother. But even so, as of late he feels more alone than ever despite his brother is 'present'

While WS feels both heartbroken and betrayed for as his only family, the only person he love and wish to never leave is leaving him all alone

When WS kill Cale, he does't know that the one he kills is his brother

WS thought he would not feels anything but upon seeing his brother lifeless eyes and last smile to him, he feels his heart broken into pieces and it'e hurt like no others

What both WS and Cale doesn't know is, to stop their seemingly repetitive circle of reincarnation is to have them kill each other

They will not immediately die when the other die, but the one left behind will become weaker by days and died by the end of the week

And TCF timeline happens

In this timeline, WS's memories of Cale is sealed and only released after Despair is sealed again

I just imagine WS rage upon realizing that the Cale in front of him is not his brother, he rage for he doesn't where his brother is

"WHO ARE YOU!? WHERE IS HE, WHERE IS CALE!?!! WHAT THE DID YOU DO TO HIM, WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY BROTHER?!?"

To say that KRS is shocks is understatement. There is never a mention of this fact in the novel. The Cale he met also never mention anything about this

But then, when he think about it again, Cale body languages, choose of words and expression struck him as odd when they talk before

One of the deal conditions is for GoD to sent Cale back to his original world when it's time for KRS to defeats WS

So, Cale, in KRS's original body, suddenly appears there a moment before CH stab WS's heart

So CH end up stabbed both of them in the hearts

WS is angry to this foreign person suddenly appeared and hinder him for taking out the impostor in his brother's body

But somehow he know, he know that this stranger with foreign face is his brother

Maybe with the way he smile at him. Maybe with the way his eyes when he look at him. But, more importantly, maybe with the way he called him Hyung

WS feels his anger become nonexistence and he just slumps into his brother arms

They ignore everything around them, even the sword that stucked them together, and just embrace each other in their last moment

And for the first time in like forever, WS let himself rest and ne vulnerable

They embrace each other and welcome death with a peaceful smile on their face

#og!cale henituse #trash of the counts family #kim rok soo #white star #AU

53 notes · View notes

witchygalaxys · 1 year

Text

STORY IDEA!

OKAY! So this idea is like a romance isekai but with a twist.

The story follows a girl (Let's call her... Angel for now.) who was obsessed with romance. She played all sorts of dating sims and loved all romance manwha, webtoons, Shojo, etc....

Angel always dreamed of having romance for herself where she could be with some one who loved her and she loved in return but was always to afraid. At any sign of rejection she would gave up right away. One day she decides to change her life and go out on a blind date set up by one of her friends but as she is waiting to cross the street to get to her date.... some one pushes her into traffic.

SO! You probably are thinking yeah yeah basic isekai story but I'm not done!

Of course Angel wakes up into a world of one of her favorite harem animes as a side character. She loved the heroine in this anime and as much as she wanted romance for herself she didn't want to ruin the story but watch instead as a fan and then maybe love would happen for her.

But instead of the heroine she knew and loved she was some one else... a plain girl who looked nothing like the colorful pretty heroine who she knew and loved. This girls name was Jessica.

THIS! IS WHERE IT GETS WEIRD!

One of the reasons Angel loved this anime was because the original heroine tried her best not to lead any one on and made a choice in the end of who she would marry but Jessica.... although acted similar to the original character... she would lead every one on and ended up cheating on all of them with eachother.

Now Angel, who loved the original story and characters wanted to protect them. She tried to show them who Jessica really was but... it blew up in her face and she was killed for being the "Villianess" by her favorite character.

Now this is the twist.....

When she wakes up again.... Angel is reborn as some one else... this time in her favorite manga. Reborn as the sister of the heroine. It was a completely different world with different characters but the original heroine in this story is once again Jessica and not the original MC.

Angel shocked to once again be in a different world and body tried to figure stuff out... but this type of thing would happen over and over again.

Angel would be killed and come back but into another story as some one else. Jessica would always be in those worlds as the MC.

Every life Angel tried some thing different but would always be killed in the end. Angel would run far away to avoid Jessica but some how Jessica would always find her and be the cause of eaither her misery or death. On Angel's 2nd life she tried to avoid Jessica and live her own life trying to ignore the story. Later on Angel married some one who had nothing to do with the story or Jessica. Angel cut off all contact with Jessica despite being "sisters." In this life. Eventually Angel lived passed the ending of the original story but one day she came home and found her husband in bed with Jessica. Jessica acted like she didn't know that he was married and began to blame Angel.

Everything went down hill from there. Every one was on Jessica's side. Even Jessica's flavor of the month despite being cheated on was on Jessica's side including Angel's husband.

After a year of battling depression and losing everything in the divorce Angel was killed while being mugged.

Once again she was reborn in a new life and this trend would continue. Jessica was always there and always won. No matter how hard Angel tried to avoid Jessica.... Jessica always came back. Even in the lives from shounen jump series... Jessica always took the place of the MC. Imagine being reborn into one piece only to find out Luffy is now a random girl named Jessica.

And in every life Angel's life was met with ruin. No matter who she ended up falling in love with or who she became... they would always choose Jessica in the end. She tried being Jessica's friend and would still end up dying tragically. She has even been reborn as male love interests and would lose everything.

Angel is now on her 28th life and has lost all hope. She despises Jessica for good reason but no one sees it her way. If she told any one (and she has in some of her previous lives.) They eaither die or she gets killed shortly after being told.

Angel knows 8 things at this point

Jessica can't be killed - no matter what Jessica is always saved by eaither a love interest or some dumb miracle like a coin dropping at the right time and stopping a bullet.

Jessica appears to have no memory of past lives - Angel having tested this theory many times, it always appears that Jessica has no memory of past events or even who Angel is.

No matter where Angel goes Jessica some how follows - Even if Angel goes half way around the world the original story will change making it so Jessica will be where ever Angel is.

Every one falls in love with Jessica especially if Angel has a relationship with them. - Even if Angel sides and falls in love with the villian they will some how fall in love with Jessica and become part of her harem completely changing the original story.

Angel has a strong memory - With living so many lives Angel remembers every single details. She has learned many different languages and strategies making her a genius with each passing life. The only thing she can't remember clearly is her original life.

Angel is always reborn as a baby

Jessica always looks the same and even has the same name but she doesn't always act the same - Jessica will always have the qualities of the original MC but will always string people along

If Angel talks about her past lives who ever she tells will eaither be killed or she will be killed shortly after. Angel has tried to tell Jessica as a way to kill Jessica but than Angel was killed instead.

At this point Angel has given up hope and wants to find out a way to break this curse. She no longer wants love or romance. She just wants peace and to never see Jessica ever again. She will even take death over living another miserable life.

This is all I have so far but I thought it was a really good idea and I loved picturing all the animes and manga being mixed together. I have the premise but have no idea how to make Angel come ontop when she has lost so many times.

Who is Jessica? Why is she always there? Who originally killed Angel? Was it Jessica? 🤔

#isekai story idea #story idea #tragedy #physiological

5 notes · View notes

promiseiwillwrite · 2 years

Text

Theft of the Heartfire OR How I met Hel

This is for my friend.

As often happens with me, I was restless, and physically sick. I wish I could give more psychological and emotional context for the story, but it is lost to time. Forced to lay in bed sniffling with yet another sinus infection, I imagined a place that matched how I felt.

The air was clingy, and dripped from the branches of the bare bushes around the path. There was a storm coming, and the wind had started to whip occasionally. It wasn’t dark but would be soon. Paths snaked through the brush and grass before me. Some made by the feet of travelers, others made by deer, and they were difficult to discern.

I saw a light ahead. I’d needed a light. But the entity holding it was a Problem.

At this point in my life, I did NOT trust Odin. I knew him to be as much a trickster entity as Loki, and I’d had years to get to know Loki. He was certainly “the devil I knew” and Odin was “the devil I didn’t”.

I stopped where I was standing. Looking back now, I think I’ve been much too quick to assume treacherous intent of Odin, but that is neither here nor there, because at the time, standing before him, I felt quite vulnerable. He was standing at a crossroads, holding high the lantern, so we could both see.

I approached cautiously.

“This place is where you must choose a path.” He stated.

And then Loki came from behind me out of the dark. I was startled, and immediately eased, seeing who it was. Thunder growled in the distance.

Loki held his hand up, and Fire danced across his palm. He grinned with confidence and certainty. There was never any doubt in him whether I would choose to follow him into the dark, even given completely free choice in an ambiguous situation.

Odin’s face was calculating. Not judging one way or the other, he held his lantern, and said “We all live with our choices.” Before turning and walking away into the mist.

I followed Loki off to the right. The path seemed to loop back on itself, and it began to rain. The flames he held went out, and still I followed him. We traveled to the edge of a Cliff, and then down over the edge onto switchbacks.

The wind Howled against the rocks, and torrents of rain washed past our ankles. The path was wide enough at first, and about halfway down, it narrowed significantly. It wasn’t long before we had to press ourselves to the cliff and step one foot at a time along the ledge. The cold bit into my hands, and the wind threatened to pull us off the cliff and fling us to our deaths.

At last, we came to a rickety leather tent, built somehow into the rocks and anchored in place with pitons. The tarps of it flapped, buffeted by the wind. We were both soaked and freezing. It was terrible.

“Where are we going?” I asked him.

“to the Underworld.”

“Why?”

“Because that is what you came to do. This is a part of your growth. You tend to die now and again, and are reborn after, a cyclical thing with your power. I am just taking you the Direct Route. Odin’s way is Much Longer.”

This made sense. I’d been sick all the other times before, too.

Then he came very close.

“Do you trust me?” he asked.

“Yes.” I didn’t hesitate.

He reached into my chest, in a metaphysical sense, and not unlike Mola Ram in Indiana Jones, He pulled out a brilliant blue mote of light, and immediately put it in his mouth, and swallowed it.

I felt like my body weighed a hundred pounds more, suddenly, and he kissed my forehead. “Stay here, I am going to get us some firewood. Wait for me.” He stood up and left out of the tent in the direction we’d come from. I assumed he was going to get wood for a fire at the top of the cliff.

The fever had its way with me, and I think I slept, and was awake, and I think I remember going to work in the waking world but was right back in the story when I closed my eyes. He did not return that night. And I began to wonder if I’d made the wrong choice at the top of the cliff. I wondered whether it had been a wise idea to follow anyone, let alone a known liar, off a cliff.

For Three Days and Three nights I waited. The storm didn’t settle. It howled all around and eventually I realized that he wasn’t coming back. I had started to be concerned as well, because he’d taken something vital out of me. I didn’t feel right, and the restlessness became overwhelming. I felt Dead but still alive at the same time.

On the fourth day, I finally came out of the tent.

It was still sheets of Icy rain, but Daytime.

And I could see at the base of the cliff was a Huge Eagle, beating it’s Wings, and perpetuating the torrent.

I Yelled at him to Stop. I started to get Pissed, because I felt like this whole thing had been a setup. Loki had been in cahoots with this guy, likely a Jotun in bird shape. There was no telling what Loki had conned him with. And Now, Loki had a fucking three day head start.

The eagle didn’t hear me over the gale or pretended not to. It was perched on a dead tree. Below the tree there was a treasure chest.

I picked my way down, spitting curses at the Jotun, and by the time I reached the bottom I was hot mad. I was so tired, and wet, and it felt like I was wearing a lead suit.

I picked up a Rock and Threw it at the Eagle, and he finally stopped.

“What the Hell did he pay you to keep up with your damn weather magic for four damn days??”

I was normally respectful to entities. I normally dealt with Jotuns in a much more deferent manner, honoring them as personifications of natural phenomena. But I was not feeling deferent. I was feeling like this one needed the shit kicked out of him. I picked up a dead branch from his tree and swung it at him.

The eagle hopped down out of the tree and had the gall to look shocked. He told me that he was Þjazi, and that Loki had made a deal with him.

“He paid Extra, in case you were up there for six or seven days.” He kicked open the chest, and the top of it rolled back on a spring hinge.

Inside were bones and round shells with holes in the center, Money from another culture entirely, mixed with coins, and jewelry, and a sword.

I swore at him, and asked which way he went.

He looked afraid. I must have looked awful. I felt awful, but I menaced him with the branch, and he bowed his head, and gestured with his wing down the path.

“He went to Helheim.”

“Bastard.” I said, looking down the path Þjazi had indicated. I spit into the dirt and directed my anger where it belonged.

“I want no quarrel with you, witch. Here, Take the sword rather than that dumb stick, if you have to go to Hel’s Hall, and be at peace.”

I squinted at him and took it. I threw down the stick and picked up the old sword from the chest. It was heavy and gilded. And I started walking.

I trudged down the path for a day and a night until I came upon a narrow bridge over a chasm.

And there were three hags. Wrong mythological setting again, but definitely an underworld. I was in the right neighborhood.

The hags lived in a little cave, just beside the edge of the bridge. I stepped one foot onto the bridge, and they came out and one exclaimed, “Alive or dead!? Can’t you make up your mind?? Footfalls like an Ogre you have for a Dead person, Yet no fire of Life burns in your chest.”

And it was then that it dawned on me what he’d done.

He’d Literally taken the life, my heartfire, right out of my chest, and left me on the side of a cliff. All with my permission. That FUCKER. Fool me about five times, absolute shame on me.

My rage boiled out of me and I gripped the sword.

The hags shrieked and cowered. “Alive and Dead, Dead and alive, not just this bridge you must cross to reach Hel’s Hall. But another bridge entirely. A bridge for which you must pay a toll.”

“And ours, for ours, the questions you must answer. You know how this works. That sword won’t get you across.”

“Fine.” I agreed. I understood about purpose, even then. I understood that they had theirs, just as I had mine.

They relaxed considerably. The first of them asked: “What is your name?” I answered with a little thought. I gave the first magical name I’d ever had. The name I’ve never told another human, because it doesn’t concern anyone but me, drawn from a bag of divination runes I made from black cherry wood and my own two hands as a child. They looked at one another but did not react outwardly. Not a Lie, but a name I could afford to lose, because I had many others now. I knew that if I told them false, that the unspoken part of this deal was that they would get to Eat me. I didn’t fancy that aspect of the arrangement, but answering questions was simple enough.

“What is your purpose?” This a Much harder question. They leaned forward as I thought. This one much more difficult without the vital thing that brings the urgency of life inside me. Nothing in there but my mind and that anger knocking around like a loose grenade, I answered my truth from that place. “To get my goddamned heartfire back and Beat Loki’s Ass for taking it and leaving me on that fucking cliff.” It was again, deeply true in that moment, but half an answer, because there was usually more to me than this.

And I swore to myself that if they asked about the average airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow I was going to go ballistic.

“Who Will you Be?” asked the third. And the answer came out of my mouth, sharp, immediate, and acid. “Whoever I goddamn well please, now Get out of my way.”

The hag took a small purse from under her shawl, and pressed it into my hand. “For the Toll” she croaked. “Godspeed, sister.” There was something contemptuous in her voice, not of me, but in solidarity for my cause. I got the sense that they were required to play their roles, but that they had come on purpose to assist.

I walked over their bridge and through a long, dark, narrow tunnel, and then up toward dim starlight.

Out the other side of the tunnel was a crack in reality big enough to hold worlds. Mists swirled in the air as all the waters of creation ran down both sides in unending cascades that stretched as far as I could see to the hazy edges of space. Ginnungagap.

At first, there was No Way across. The harder you looked at the far side, the farther it seemed. And I knew down deep in my bones that jumping or flying was right out.

But when I brought out the purse, which was a little change purse, with a metal twist clasp, purple knit, with a periwinkle* lining, and a little pink and white flower stitched on the outside, and reached inside, there were little brass coins, with a flower printed on one side, like an arcade token, and as soon as I had one in my hand, a bridge began to assemble itself, blocks flying out of the rocks below where I was standing to form a stone bridge with rails, as wide as a street. It was a hundred different bridges, built of things and places I had seen. Built of photographs and memories and bridges I had seen on television. Something out of old London placed the lamps and the mist swirled up from the gap to act as fog.

*I never in life looked up Periwinkle until today. Periwinkles are what the little stitched flower on the outside of the bag look like, and there’s a good chance this was not a coincidence. The flowers on the Coins were periwinkle flowers. This pouch handed to me was definitely intended to assist, and powerfully.

I stepped onto the bridge, and the moment I did, a figure appeared in the distance along it’s span.

A Familiar figure.

Me.

Between me and the figure, a full-length mirror in a wooden frame appeared.

I swayed a bit. It was becoming harder and harder to walk. But I was determined. And Stubborn.

I made it to the mirror, and in the mirror, I saw Ayla.

Ayla is/was an alter of mine known for being adversarial. They never lied but were often quite cruel in the way they used the truth.

The figure beyond the mirror spoke, and I heard them up in the distance. “To pass this way, you must confront who you are, and who you have been.”

I looked at Ayla, and if I’d known then what I know now, I might have given her the time of day. As it was, she was an enemy, but she was in a mirror, and I sure as hell wasn’t going in after her, or fighting some fucked up war with myself on a goddamn bridge like some Anime. I had a sword, and I guess I was ready to fight, but I was So tired that I just walked right by.

This is, unfortunately, a pattern I have repeated throughout my life. Given an opportunity to face certain things, I choose not to see an opportunity, and instead see an obstacle or annoyance, best avoided, to save energy. Looking back, I should not have walked past her. It came back to bite me much later.

I walked up to myself, dressed strangely in dark clothes. My face was obscured by hair and hat, but there was no mistaking that I faced myself.

“And now, you must pay the toll to pass. But it seems you only have a few tokens, and there are so Many of you.”

I had been traveling alone to that point.

But as soon as my shadow self said something about it, I turned, and saw the others in my head standing on the bridge behind me, and indeed, I only had three coins, and there were five of us.

My doppelgänger grinned at me, but there was no way in hell I was losing to this smug imitation. I looked at it, and I said “Fine then, If you want to Split Hairs, then you’ll find there’s more to me than this,” And I Flexed.

And by flexed, I mean I called to memory Everything and Everyone I had ever been, Live and dead, Memories, potentialities, characters, fact and fiction. The bridge behind me filled with a Legion of Selves, An Army Prepared for War.

And so without paying my toll, We Marched across the Ginnungagap a conquering force to the edge of Helheim on the other side.

Raising an army takes a lot out of you.

By the time I got to the other side, I was almost out of gas.

Kalok and Rath and Altherion stayed with me, and all the rest disappeared. (these are three of my main system, and very near and dear to my heart) An army of ghosts, dispersed on the winds of the underworld, back to whatever strings and tales they belonged to. They were pretty much helping me walk at this point. I couldn’t have gone any further alone. They weren’t dragging me, but by this time I was not managing every step of the way. I am so lucky that they have been there for me all this time.

We walked through a rocky place and turned a corner. In the ground was a Dog Circle. A path marked into dirt by the pacing of a dog at the end of a chain. We stopped. Garm, in all his Glory and Terror Came to the edge of this circle, to guard the gate of black wood that stood between us and the city around Hel’s Hall.

He was fierce and terrible, but guarding the hall of the dead is a thankless task. And I knew what to do.

I gave an offering, of fresh salmon, *don’t ask me where I got it, I needed it and it was there, okay?* and Garm settled. He allowed me to pet him, and then I walked to the gate, and we went inside.

At this point, I have gaps in my story, I felt like they were carrying me, half running through the city, as the respectable dead shut their doors and barred their windows as the half alive creature came running through the streets.

I remember being at the steps, and having to stumble to the door, I remember having to be the one to Knock.

And then the doors thrown open. And then much movement, and then nothing for a bit.

I awoke to the sound of Ceramic Plates Breaking against stone walls. I looked up, and Hel was on one side of the room, behind a table, lobbing plates at her father’s head.

Loki was running, dodging just barely, this barrage. I could not understand either of them. I think they were speaking some Scandinavian language, and the only thing I could pick out was “doula.” It was much later that I recognized that they were talking about me.

And then Hel bent over me, with such kind, worried compassion that it totally broke every idea I’d ever had of her being some cold and indifferent goddess. I think if I’d ever had a “love at first sight” experience, this was absolutely it.

Then she threw another plate at her father and screamed at him some more.

Finally, she stopped throwing things at him, and he came over and looked down at me. He made that face that people make that is both amusement and pity, that people only make when you really look awful, and no one is saying it.

I called him a Fucker. And a Thief.

And I grabbed him, and kissed him on the mouth, and took back from him what was mine.

#UPG #Old Swamp Witch Story Time #wildly mixing mythologies

3 notes · View notes