Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

You are a tribute in the hunger games but don’t give a damn. You know this farce is rigged and you, your sister and your aunt are ready.

You wait until the interviews to drop your bomb.
You VOLUNTEERED. Not because you care about the other poor sod dragged here to be murdered for the entertainment of the masses but because you are terminally ill.
You figured since you’re dying anyway, you may as well die usefully.
Anyone thinking to sponsor you should save their efforts for someone more likely to live… provided they can find one. You have a feeling about this year after all and that is there will be NO survivors… Oh, do relax. If it happens that way it won’t be your doing. You don’t even plan to raise a hand either in your own defense or to harm anyone.
If they really must, they should pick someone who will need the help, like the twelve-year-olds dragged away from their families for this.
You simply have no one left to lose since your younger sister has the same condition and your aunt is developing it.

(A side effect of where you and your family were forced to live.
While you are accustomed to getting fucked over in your various lives, this time around the inevitable screw-over came fast, hard, and was happening before you were even born. It just hit harder as you got older and this time around's bio family got smaller because of it. Well, you're long past caring about what happens to those around your current incarnation unless you're on a job... Anyway, the moment you stepped onto the train, if they followed the plan, they’re already dead…)

You are not subtle.
You are jaded, spiteful and doing this for your own amusement… you have little enough pleasures left in life.
You are shit stirring because you can.

After making sure all of the other offerings for the slaughter can hear you and as a warning to the locals and all listening, you let out the knowledge that the best thing a sacrifice can do for their family is die!
You have met THREE former survivors in passing and each and every one of them had ALL of their family die in mysterious circumstances while they were on their victory tour.
Isn’t that just fascinating?
So, all those watching have a choice should they or any of their relatives ever be chosen.
Try and survive and sacrifice their families for the greater good of getting supplies for their section, or allow themselves to die and their families to live… for however long until the supplies run out again. Choices, choices eh?

Why are you sharing this?
Because why should YOU be the only one to suffer?
You have nothing left to lose and so absolutely no f’s left to give and you are petty enough to enjoy any mild inconvenience you can give the dear president…

As to the ‘games,’ you really don’t care.
You haven’t trained and have no intention of doing so.
Nor have you eaten since you got here.
You allowed the stylists to do only the minimum as you have no intention of appealing to the masses, nor do you care how they think of you.

The worst that can happen is, if their ‘beloved’ president doesn’t find you an acceptable victim for his sanctioned murder fests, some other poor kid will be drafted and you will likely die anyway.
It’s not like anyone here cares about human life right?
Not when they’re happy to force a bunch of children to murder each other with minimal training for the dubious prize of survival… and some extra rations for their section.
What’s one more former innocent to the pile?

You break into a series of coughs, puffs of something escaping your mouth but hidden by your hand.
Ah, you’ve gotten too worked up. Your too pale skin is a little blotchy.

You are hustled off the stage by the uncomfortable host and go easily with a shrug.
You have already been heard as this was going out live.

(You also may or may not have already infected all that you’ve come into your air space with the spores you’re breathing out but it isn’t like you care.
There ARE no innocents in this. All participate even if it’s only by watching and all are equally culpable.

As to your ‘section,’ this is of their own making. If they had not forced your formerly large, now nonexistent family to live in that place, they wouldn’t court their own doom as none of you would ever have become infected and carriers of the fungus spoors.

Perhaps they’ll catch it, perhaps they won’t but it gives you a happy and spiteful buzz to think they wouldn’t know what to look for and that they’ll sicken and suffer after your death.

It amuses you to have been brought here for a death tournament as you secretly bring death to them all through the front door.
The health check and ‘beautification’ procedures were surface level after all.)

You are the only one who sits cross-legged and at ease, as you are all loaded into the death game’s site.
You are even humming. No matter who ‘wins’ here, they’re all dead anyway.

Perhaps you should attempt to survive to the end, just to ensure the most murderous of the lot dies properly. It’s no less than they deserve and, on your death, the fungus killing you will engulf your body, releasing it’s spores ALL over the area.
Most of the spores will die as the tropical island setting and the salt are bad for them but, humans make wonderful hosts and so do birds and animals…
You really are a horrible person, aren't you. The poor animals have done no harm but they'll still be collateral damage.
It's too late for regrets or worries now.
No matter how you're killed, it WILL still happen whether you want it to or not.

You survive the first burst.
How strange.
Perhaps the humming and the smile put them off. Or the coughing?
They all ran so fast except for the few that were killed outright.
You lay out the dead neatly and remain by the dying.
They are infected and will take some of the spores back, even if they need the warmth of either a rotting or living body to sprout properly.
The dying take some comfort in you stroking their hair... or you think they do.
Dying is a lonely thing.

One who was badly injured and figured they had nothing to lose answers why you are alive... probably.
Apparently, you creep them out and they figured they can always run you down later. You haven’t eaten and you’re weak right?
You can already tell they're dying of their injuries.
Since when were you designated nurse to the dying?
How bizarre.

In the meantime, you help yourself to the scattered items and make up a little camp in the site.
You make little clusters of food and useful items around the edge of the meadow you were dropped in and laze around, waiting to see if anyone will take them.
You have to entertain yourself somehow and giving the younger and weaker a 'sponsorship' pack of their own might help them last longer.
You do like causing trouble for the snotty and the arrogant. You sort of wish you could cause more.

For some reason, the Game Masters haven’t moved the boundaries to kill you or triggered any other natural disasters.
How odd. You’re waiting after all.
Perhaps they wished to keep the cornucopia of supplies and equipment intact?

The two youngest creep back to grab the packs you made up before bolting away and you toast them with a water bottle.
If they don’t kill you, the game masters will… or the parasitic fungus. You’re late middle stage and the end stage comes hard and fast.
You no longer care about what happens in this ‘game’, one way or another, you’re already going to get what you want.

After day three you went for a wander, more of a stagger really, and find the two youngest heavily injured and likely dying.
This again.
Figures. Poor brats.

With a sigh, you take them back to your campsite. They may as well die in comfort and have a chance to farewell any who might care. Dying is the loneliest fucking thing in the world. These kids never asked for this, even if their families might have by asking for extra rations. The more they did that, the more chance of the kid's name coming out of the barrel for these fucked up 'games'.

To your bemusement you survive to the end and, laughing, you shoot a triumphant smile at the camera drones as you detonate the gathered explosives even as they come for you.
You’re going out with a BANG. There will be NO survivors to this year’s ‘game’ and you couldn’t be happier to rob them of this last thing.
After all, you were on your last legs anyway, very weak and the third stage of infection was coming fast.
You could feel it.
It was only spite and the desire to strike back the only way you could that’s gotten you this far…

(You're probably going to get chewed out by your Patron for this... but no human can go through continuous misery and fuck overs and come out fully sane and you... are kind of out of fucks to give.
You know he doesn't mean it but being the Contracted of a god of Misfortune is really hard on the sanity.)

Chapter Text

You awaken as the Villainess in kitschy eighties girly cartoon, mainly made to sell toys.

You are fresh from yet another defeat and retired from your minion to lick your wounds, which is apparently standard behavior after a defeat and so wasn’t really paid attention to.
It’s a hair-based theme. Dutchess Raven Waves indeed.

You get her memories while you sleep and more and more you wonder what she was trying to accomplish.
Sure, her kingdom was pretty shitty, but it wasn’t like she had many people to care for. Her ‘kingdom’ was essentially a castle and a chunk of wilderness.

Getting control of the child-looking princess, ‘Lady Lovely Locks’ (seriously?) kingdom was pure avarice and a bit of arrogance, sure that your current self deserved better than this.
She just wanted what the other girl had because she didn’t have it.

What a shallow bint.

Her plans were convoluted, often relying on unreliable minions and you honestly don’t know why she bothered.

You snarl at your minion, saying you are sick and tired of losing all the time and maybe it’s time to take a break from this whole… everything!

He advises that you shouldn’t rush your decision and should take the time to reflect and think about things. Think about what you want and how to get it.

You put off your minion (Hairball? Seriously? What a rotten thing to do to a kid, even if he obviously isn't human), retreating to your pretty comfortable wing, saying you need to think… and you do.

You’re not going to put up with this BS of a life, locked like a moon, no, not even that, an asteroid in orbit around the sun that baby faced, good two shoes, sweetness and light mary sue of a princess is. Gag.
(And these floofy, puffy gowns... SO not you. How do they get ANYTHING done?)
You just need to figure things out.

At takes a couple of weeks and you go through this girl’s library AND spell library because, why not.
Who’d have thought she had a secret ‘forbidden romance’ book stash… a little shmoopy for your taste but it’s something to give your brain a break from reading the rest of her so dry its ossified or disturbing, what the actual hell collection.
With their baby faces it’s hard to tell age but honestly, outside of the spell books and a few reference books, her taste is like that of an emo, borderline goth, teenage girl.

Several weeks later.

Right. You can do this. It might have taken weeks for inspiration to strike, rather long than her usual sulking fits, but you think you can make it work for you.
Besides, it wasn’t like the fickle girl did much to keep her ‘kingdom’ running. She left that to minions while she swanned about and did whatever.

It wasn’t until you found that woodcut in the book that reminded you of another picture you remembered that gave you this idea.

The picture itself wasn’t much.
Just a twenties plus game sitting and bawling his eyes out with the caption ‘This used to be fun. Why isn’t it fun anymore?’” that stuck with you because that was nearly you thanks to bullying issues, but it struck a mental spark and finally got your mental gears churning.
You’ve always had a bit of drama to you, theater child that you were. You’ve got this.

You storm out of your quarters and hunt down your minion, looking a little wild.

You start raving about how something or someone must have cursed you because… you’re tired of this.
Tired of the castle. Tired of getting defeated all the time. Tired of trying to one-up the goody two shoes. Just… tired.

Then you start whining with as much 'classic teenage drama' TM as you can pump into it.

'It used to be fun you know?' You tell your minion.
'Coming up with plans and making that sweetness and light, goody goody of a princess life difficult.
And now… now it’s not.
Now, it just feels like you're going through the motions.
It’s not… it’s not fun anymore and you don’t know why, but you DON’T like it.

It’s not… not like you're going soft or anything but it’s like something is draining away all your creativity.
Like… like it’s drudgery instead of the ticket to the good life it should be and… you don’t know.
It’s like your spark has been stolen, you’re not even sure you WANT to be a be this anymore and it’s PISSING YOU OFF.

This… ISN’T you.

Someone’s done this to you?!
They MUST have!

Because this mopy, flat, depressed creature ISN’T you!

You need to find who's responsible for this and MAKE THEM SORRY… because you’re ‘ewww’ full of… of FEELINGS.
Worse. You want to TALK about them. *shudder.

You were… you were even going to tell your minion that, due to the fact you don’t feel like Villaining anymore, you were going to tell him he could go his own way if he wanted… or stay on and that just makes your flesh creep!'

He looks deeply discomforted.

'Which, fair. YOU are discomforted by this entire EVERYTHING.
You’ve been ALL the way through your library, TWICE and found nothing.
You… need more resources.
You're pretty sure Pretty in Pink didn’t do it. Not her style.
One of her ‘maidens’ though or her little Magical parasites though…

After all, none of them appreciated how much time and effort you’ve poured into your plans or that you were serving a role of keeping the royals on their toes and vigilant with your plans.
No, no one EVER thinks of that… and you’re TIRED of this thankless ‘job’.
Let them get complacent and fall and you’ll be there to sweep in and take over when they do…

Meantime, you’re going an a road trip/scouting run. You need more information and you’re going to need to check out any number of resources…

He can stay if he wants and even use your library to come up with his own plans for miss Sweetness and Light if he likes but if he damages a SINGLE book, you’ll roast him over a slow fire and use his remains for slippers! The castle had better be standing on your return as well, though this trip could take YEARS…'

He skulks off as deeply uncomfortable as you are over the whole conversation.

Heh. Nailed it. Thanks, Drama Major.

There are only a few loose ends. You snaffle a few of the more interesting books and a magical satchel thingie. Your former self doesn't seem to have much ready cash but you hopefully won't need to because hey, Magic.

You ready your horse, Frizz, and off you go.
Free at fuckin’ last!

You couldn’t give a toss about pinky blond and kingdom, though you do sort of want to raid that blind dude who used to teach your minion’s library and resources. He must have some good shit to be an advisor to a Queen, even if she just goes by Lady.

A costume change, a touch of magic on you and your horse, and you're a young noble lad on his steed. It’ll be MUCH easier to get around like this. Raven Waves is too recognizable and those dresses were fecking ridiculous for riding, or well, doing anything physical really. A typical noblewoman's dress. Rich, showy, utterly impractical.

Now… you have a whole WORLD to explore though you do make a note to send letters back to the castle from time to time so they know you’re still alive…

This whole villain shtick and Raven Wave’s super dull and repetitive life can go F themselves.
You AREN’T her so you’re noping right out of there.

Traveling will be much more interesting anyway… You have freaking MAGIC even if it’s sort of hair based. There’s got to be SO much more out there to learn right and YOU are going to learn it!

Chapter Text

The Non Joy- a cadre of people who aren't of the Joy family who wish the heal.
They began with two girls, Jessie and Amile, who are turned away for not being Joys as every one knows that only Joy's heal and heal is what Joys do.
Rather than give up, the two girls put out an add seeking a Joy who does NOT want to heal. They struck heh, joy with a Joy who wanted to be a Pokemon Master. She is being pushed to heal and she. Does. Not. WANT to.
They make a deal. She goes, learns the basics and teaches them as she goes, they in turn will go on their Pokemon journeys but teach her as they go. When she's done enough to keep her family off her back, get a copy of everything they teach the Joys and leave. They'll take her to someone who won't quibble if she wants to get a starter pokemon that isn't a version of Chansey.
They draw in a young Heir who is dodging his alliance Marriage.
The Joy gets a Pokecenter far off the beaten track where she begins to teach and train up the Non Joy.
They are JUST as good. Better even than most Joys.

They are soon joined by the Anti Jenny. Jenny's who DON'T want to be cops!
They aren't quite as exclusive as the police, also accepting males who aren't of the Jenny family.

The Joy discrimination is made known and the Non Joy movement begins to rise. They don't have ANYTHING to do with Team Rocket. They loathe those abusive asses.
As they aren't doing anything against the law, they can't be arrested or legally stopped.
The orginal Non Joy, who prefers to be called Sadie, dresses like a grunge punk in ripped clothes, black, chains, patches, pins and cut short, wildly coloured hair. All of her clothes sport the Non Joy logo. Basically a silhouette of a standard Joy head in gray or black, with a red 'banned' circle and bar over the top. The words 'Non Joy' are written across the bar of the 'banned' circle.
Anti Jenny, or just Jen, wants to be a healer and she is quiet and shy. Growlith's scare her but she's decent with her Chansey and she was directed to the same place to get her Starter as Sadie was.

But you're not a... is the bane of their existence. What does it MATTER if they aren't a Jenny or a Joy. They are no less talented for all of that it's just people don't give them a chance because everyone expects a member of those houses to be in place. It's discrimination of the highest order...

Sadie drops by the pokecenter, now staffed with her trainees, from time to time but she's having a blast as a pokemon Master.

James, Jessie and a Meowth who taught it'self to speak human speech form a team with Amile... who promptly caught the Meowth. As a wildie ANYONE could catch him and take him. With her holding his ball, even if he's never inside, they can't and she won't order him around either. He can do as he pleases, this is just surety that he won't be taken away.
In fact, she hands him his own ball. This way, he's his own Master. He keeps the marble-sized ball on a collar around his neck like a charm.

They travel around spreading the word of the Non Joy and the Anti Jenny.

In a town not far from that Pokecenter, far off the beaten track, their movement has given one of the locals 'radical' ideas. Ideas the very, very uptight, steeped in sour grapes Professor objects to strenuously. That is NOT how it's done!

Seriously, she is tempted to just ditch her town entirely and got to the free trade center to get her first Mon.
It's kind of dodgy even if it's still legal... ish.
The problem with that is it's not safe to travel by foot unless you had a pokemon or were in a group with someone else who had one and the free trade center was through a thickly forested section, crawling with pokemon.

Thus, she's likely stuck with the hard arse. She'll... try, but it grates.

She didn't try hard enough and began her Pokemon Journey without a starter pokemon as she wouldn’t take one who didn’t go with her willingly and the professor was something of a stickler.
She would go with a beginner pokemon or none at all.
Despite the fact a couple of the lab-born pokemon would have gone with her, she still ends up with going with none at all, because screw him and the Rapidash he rode in on!

The professor sniffs. She’ll be crawling back soon enough he’s sure.

She was not and did not and that professor soon found himself under investigation.

She was properly Registered though and had her pokedex, pokeballs and equipment otherwise.
Her entire crew ends up being pokemon she’s found injured that need more care than she can give and, after they’re healed she gives them the option of leaving if they want.

So won’t have anyone with her that aren’t with her willingly. Those that want to leave, she’s willing to take them to an area they want or back home and let them go.
She has a few abandoned Pokemon that she’s picked up too.

She’s less interested in winning Gym Battles. No, she’s content to wander, explore and learn.
There’s so much to do and see out there still.

As her beginner Proff was a douche, she doesn't trust Proff’s much so she keeps far more than six Pokes on her at once. In fact, she carries all twenty seven she has to date.

She finally ends up at the NJ/AJ gym/ training center/ poke center and very much likes their style. All Hail to the peaceful non conformers… who are actually doing a pretty good job of things actually. Better than some of the actual Joys/ Jennys.

They’ve even attracted a couple of both those families who don’t WANT to be in pokemon care/ healing or law enforcement.
Your family name/ look should NOT dictate what you want to do with your life! There is now a pokemon trainer Joy challenging the Gyms and making her way to the league battles and a Jenny who is a poke tech engineer and loving it.
There is a male Joy who wants to be an archeologist but no one supports him except the rebel family members.
There is a Jenny who identifies as a Jonny despite the female packaging and NONE of his family get it. He runs away to the NJ/AJ gym. He wants to study stars and learn more about them. Maybe one day go into space.

-0-

So much later she’s wandering in a different world. She’s eating at a nice little Raman Booth when a scuffed, grubby little kid comes in, followed by the glares of the citizenry.

She buys him some Ramen.

Wherever she goes, she feeds the strays when she can.
She’s been there.
Maybe not as bad as these kids have had it but she’s been there while on her travels.
It might not mean much in the grand scheme of things but at least there’s one meal they won’t have to steal or miss.

She didn’t expect the grubby blond to start following her or to spy on her training with her Mon.
She ends up feeding him a second time.

That was a mistake. He won’t leave her alone now and she sits him down to discuss things.

He demands that she take him with her when she goes… then he begs.
He’s DESPERATE to get out, to get away from here.

She knows the kid is watched and she says as much. It’s not like she can tuck him into one of her pokeballs.
(Yes, she knows how to make ‘em. She had to do SOMETHING with herself since she wasn’t interested in gym or league battles. So she learns bits and pieces, working her way around.)

She worked her way around her own world, much the way she is here. She goes hungry as often as she doesn’t as food her Mon can eat is more important but but she does well enough.

The kids snatched at one but she dodged and ducked away, calling apologies over her shoulder. She’d love to help, she WOULD, but that’s a can of worms she does NOT want to open. Not for love nor money.
Did she feel guilty?
A bit but she was a stranger in this world and there was only so much she could do without drawing unfortunate attention.

She hadn’t noticed a ball get knocked off her belt when some ass in a rush knocked her on her arse without so much as an appology.

She picked herself up, collected what of her dropped stuff she could find and moved to the side and down an alley, up turning a box so she could set her stuff down and count it out.
She was a ball or two short and sent a couple of her Mon to track them down.

Odd, she’d thought her number of empties was bigger than that?
Had she caught an ally cat or something by accident?
She hadn’t known they’d even work here?
She’ll check later.

Where’s the kid though.
She’s not seen him since yesterday… when he apparently set off a dozen or so pranks to pull attention away from him. Smart lil brat.

She went back to the Ramen guy and asked if he’d seen the kid.
He was following her almost everywhere and then he just… wasn’t.
He looked like he wasn’t being looked after like he should too…Was he a street kid?

Apparently not. He had secrets attached. It was one of those political situations where if anyone took the kid it would be looked on as favoritism so the kid was left to languish.

Fecking typical. Politics bolloxed everything up.
Still, none of her biz and it wasn’t like she could take him, wandering as she did.
Best she could do is pay for a meal or two.

He waved her off. Someone else picked up the tab and she’d already bought the kid a meal. She was good.

She shrugged.
Maybe he should get someone to teach the kid how to cook a bit.
After all, good as ramen was, he’d need more than that to grow.
If he did a few hours working in the back he could help out and learn at the same time.
Just a thought.

She leaves a few days later with any sign of the kid.
She’s a little worried but she can’t get involved.

A few towns away, in her broom cupboard of a room for the night, she remembers the newly filled pokeball and activates it.

To her utter shock, it dumps her little political stray out on the bed.

The kid yawns, blinks and stares around before his eyes widen and he bounces excitedly.
They’re out of Konoha. ‘Tebayo.

She goggles.
She isn’t sure what ‘Tebayo means but sure?
Meanwhile she’s completely freaking out inside.

What… What the ACTUAL fuck… just… what? That’s a KID, not a Mon.

She’s so, SO confused.
Should she… go back and tell someone?
Well, it wasn’t like anyone was taking care of the kid despite the fact he was watched…
Fuck.
Um… she wasn’t much of a baby sitter and she wasn’t sure where to go from here. She can… release him if he wants?

He does not! Not even a little bit ‘tebayo. That’s the warmest and most comfy he’s been like… ever. He’s sort of hungry though but he’s never slept better.
He’d like to get cleaned up though… which, fair enough.

They’ll need to dye the kids hair though and cover those whisker marks at the least. Luckily, she’s got a couple of Mon who can give him a makeover.
He’ll be going out as a ‘she’ though.
And NOT in this village.

She recalls him and sees about getting food both for the Mon and for herself.
Mon in their balls were essentially in stasis so they didn’t need feeding.
The kid wasn’t a Mon though. She’d have to keep track of that.

Rather than stay the extra couple of days she’d planned on, she bought twice the supplies she normally would, Released a Ponyta and put the saddle bags over it’s back as she walked along beside it.

She knows she could ride it as well but eh, she’s enjoying the road trip.

Looks like she’s accidentally caught a little apprentice.
Maybe she should see if she can catch other kids, just to make sure this sort of thing doesn’t happen again.
(It would also be a good way of getting someone out of harm’s way in a hurry and she could release them as soon as it was safe too.)
Should probably road test it on adults too.

She certainly hadn't expected the kid to snatch up one of her few empty balls, push the button and tap it on the red haired chibi. She CERTAINLY didn’t expect it to actually WORK!
The ball rocks viciously and violently and far longer than it might have for a normal Mon but then it stops and settles as if it was normal.
O-kay? What the fuck?! Or was the brat trying it on every stray he came across?
Oh well, whatever. Looks like she had two pokebrats now?
Eh, at least her Desert Mon would enjoy it.
She’d found the kid, Naruto or some such, could go for about four days before he needed feeding inside his ball. She only put him back when she was tight on funds, she had to travel fast or there was limited food. Most of the time he was walking with her.
He wanted to go to Uzushio, even though it was wrecked. He’d learned about it in school and now he wanted to go there.
She had no issue with that but she was in no rush.

It turns out she can only ‘catch’ those with really strong bloodlines. Something that brings out the ‘other’ in them. Few of the humans around are purely human anymore. They all have a little alien in them now, tying the to some Chakra-producing tree fruit and a ‘rabbit goddess’? Actually an alien but still…

She isn’t sure what a ‘jinchuuriki’ is when it's at home but apparently they’re the easiest to catch.
She has four now… and three other random kids.

One who is also and Uzumaki and her first ‘catches’ relative. She does healing, apparently, and the current host village forced her mother to overuse her abilities, killing her.
The kid, Karen, was happy for a chance to escape.

She has another called ‘Haku’... JUST Haku whose father killed his mother, simply because she had an ability her son inherited.
But that was in Kiri where the entire country is turning on itself.

She picked up her fourth Jinch there too… one who was being controlled by something or someone else. He was actually the boss, of Kage, of the Village and she has NO idea how her 'apprentice' even got close to the guy.
Naruto is very skilled at finding good catch targets.
The two new ones are Yagura, who is near unresponsive, and Isobu because apparently the 'Inners' that are called 'Bidju' have names too... and most of them aren't happy to be stuck inside of human hosts which... fair enough.
She's come a long way from the headstrong brat who refused to have ANYONE unwilling with her... okay, not that much.
She can live with 'caught for their own good' or 'caught for the good of all' for now.

The third non Jinch is called Kimimaru and he’s not well at all. They plan to go looking for a Tsunade sama, who is apparently a ‘Sanin’ whatever that is.
There is another called Juugo but they haven’t caught him yet.

Fuu was the third Jinch caught and seems fine with it. Her 'inner', Chomei is a sweetheart and the two work well together but just want freedom. Something she can get behind for sure.

Maybe if she finds her way to another world she can let them go there.
It’s WEIRD having people in her pokeballs.

After picking up Juugo and finding Miss Tsunade for Kimi kun, Naruto wants to go back to THAT Village. He knows some more people who could use taking away.

At this rate, she’s going to have to make more balls. She didn’t think there’d be anything here to catch!

From Konoha, there is Hinata, Neji, Sasuke, Itachi and Shisui.
There’s a mean old man called ‘Danzo’ too who has done some really bad stuff. Like, Team Rocket but far, FAR worse bad.

A boy called Sai and another called Shin were unexpected but okay…

Wow, the kid has caught himself practically a team of his own, if he was going by the standard Pokemon team number.

Someone called ‘Orochimaru’, who is also, apparently, a ‘Sanin’ and his apprentice, Kabuto are added.

Along the way, Itachi’s ‘partner’, some sharky looking guy with a sentient sword, are also caught - though the sword needs her own ball.
And some one-eyed, silver-haired porn-readying dude who came with his own pack of creatures called dogs... she's a fan. They aren't Mon but damn, are they smart.

Really, Naruto’s having TOO much fun with this.
Brat.

They left a fifth Jinch, inside a young man, in the care of two others of their sort. One older man who was extremely short and a big guy wearing red armor.

The sixth they found was badly, badly hurt and wants to go back to her Village but knows if she does, they're likely to pull her 'Inner' out which will kill her or throw her on another suicide mission.
There is another like her in the Village but he is the Kaga's adopted brother and so has far more protection.
Miss Yugito is more... disposable and her Inner, Matatabi with her. And that's just awful and horrible and NOT good enough.
Once she finds a way off this craptastic planet, she's taking any who want to come with her well, with her.

Chapter Text

Julie, an introvert, near shut in nerd is wacked over the head, dragged into an alley and loses track of things.

She wakes up in another alley but unable to understand the language spoken except for a word or two picked up from anime binges. Everyone spoke too quickly and her primary school Japanese wasn't really up for translating even the signs.

She wasn't hurt... at least she didn't think so but she had NO idea what was going on... or where she was... or how she got here.

She was very, very lost.
She had her wallet but her phone was missing and there didn't seem to be any public phones around.

As a sufferer of Social Anxiety thanks to a rather crappy foster home, being outside like this was one of her worst nightmares compounded by not being able to understand a thing.

She promptly went into shock.

It was days later before she came out of her fugue state and it seemed she'd spent most of it huddling in the alley she'd arrived in, eating out of the rubbish and curling up behind the bins.

She felt disgusting. She'd obviously been wearing the same clothes for days.
She had no idea where the little blond kid came from but if they had kids as young as this on the street, it couldn't be a good area.
All she wanted to do was hide...
At least she hadn't lost her glasses.

She didn't remember much between finding herself in the alley and freaking out but she thought the kids name was maybe Naru?
He was three or maybe four she thought and as dirty as she likely was.

She would... she would likely need to go out there and... where was her medication. She needed her medication and some water.

Three or four months later she had found several little nooks she could hide in.

She and the little blondy scavenged in the rubbish, keeping out of the way of the actual street people, who were tough, self serving and vicious, unlike the two of them who were simply displaced or homeless and just wanted to get on with living as best they could without doing harm to anyone.

Little blondy was able to get into some crazy small places and they were fearless when it came to heights, willing to scamper up and down walls or dive into dark places and, since she was one of the few people who didn’t seem to hate the kid on sight, was willing to bring her with him.

Their nooks were well padded out with off cuts and thrown away clothing, burned mats and so on.
Neither of them really cared if the stuff was in the best of condition, so long as they were still usable.

Julie knew how to sew well enough to patch what needed patching and good at reusing available materials. Rag rungs from bread bags anyone?

Creeping down to the river to bathe gave her the heaving shudders though she hated being dirty just as much.
The two conflicting urges often drove her into immobility but she was managing to force herself to do things to help her little stray...

She was trying to learn the language from the kid but he was so little he didn't really know it. He was learning more English from her than she was this near Japanese like language she was hearing from the people on the streets.

She couldn't speak or often understand but she could mime and she could draw which let her in the back door to some of the brothels where she sewed up some of their outfits for a chance to bathe properly and something small to eat even if she couldn't stay long without getting panicky.
It was little enough but it meant she had something to bring back for blondy to share.

When the people in masks turned up she froze in terror unable to understand them but they weren't taking no for an answer. Her mind went away again.

Someone or something very powerful near by jolted her back.
They’d taken her to someone who looked like an old man but he was very powerful.
He also seemed very familiar and she couldn't place why.

She also couldn't communicate with him outside of drawing a picture.
Trying to explain she only knew a tiny bit from what she'd watched on TV was nearly impossible with just pictures.

Then a pretty man with blond hair and eyes that had no pupils came in and was suddenly in her head.
He rifled through her brain like someone exploring an attic or junk room but, at the end, she could at least under a bit more, even if she still couldn't read it.

About then someone jumped in the window in a full outfit and it clicked.

Naruto.

She hadn't watched much of it for the same reasons she hadn't watched much of Dragon Ball Z.
It took forever to get to the point, the plot was moderately ridiculous (and the man screams were just irritating) and the various abuses of people had made her skin crawl.

The way Konoha had treated the boy had made her just want to nuke the place from orbit. And the things DANZO did. Shudder.

Naruto hadn't been too bright but then, he hadn't really been given a chance, had he. Kids didn't usually do well having to raise themselves and she had personal experience with it.

(Her foster home had been... fraught.

The house mother had collected the kids due to their names.
Each had ended in a 'ie' sound.
Kylie, Shandie, Ashley, Lily, Casey- male, Kerry- male, Mary, Jenny, Mandy, Kelly- male, Kasady -male, Jerry, Jimmy, Jonny, Jackie- fem, Jeremy, Candy and herself, Julie. Not all at once of course.

She didn’t seem to like Asian kids much and moved them on pretty fast. Hispanic got a little more tolerance. Oddly, she didn’t seem to mind dark skinned kids to go along with her pale skinned ones.

Twins, Hikari and Hisashi lasted the longest but eventually their Asianess had her moving them to another home.

The woman didn't really care for them beyond making sure there was food on the table twice a day and that didn't kill each other outright. They were near feral and she sent them to the local public schools, where they got in trouble regularly because of how things worked in the house.

They were allowed to fight for anything they wanted despite being assigned four to a room on double bunks.

For a weak, shy sort with health issues it had been hell.

Eventually, she'd just claimed the cupboard under the stairs and hidden there.
At least she could lock herself in to feel safe.)

It had struck a little too close to home.

(She hadn't watched KHR for similar reasons. If not for plot armour the heavily abused Tsuna would have been dead dozens of times over.

MHA too. She hated bullies. LOATHED them. Perverts too and with Mineta and Bakugo part of Class 1-A…)

Julie didn't have any super powers.

She couldn't be a ninja and she just wanted to go home to her nice safe house and not leave again... From what she'd read on the boards, things had gone to utter shite for Konoha and it was mostly the fault of some ass called Danzo.
Another called Madara and some plant guy who was two people?

She didn't really get it but figured it was like the soap operas.
If you hadn't watched it for a couple of days you had no idea what was going on anymore... from the sound of it, the creator didn't cross reference and fact check at all often so there were contradictions all over and he liked to kill off characters.

All of this flashed through her mind in moments.
She didn’t like the looks on their faces and she’d dissociated for a bit longer, the power of the old guy, the fucking HOKAGE, wasn’t enough to hold her present against her sheer distress.
.
(VIOLATION. He was INSIDE HER HEAD. THIS was MIND RAPE and she was FREAKING THE FUCK OUT!)

When she came back to herself she was being stared at but at least she didn’t think they were going to kill her anymore.

They cut her a deal. If she looked after the little blondy, they'd give her a place to live and help her work on her issues. She'd get a stipend and someone to tutor her for the duration. Supposedly.

She’d take it only because she wanted to be far a fucking way from here, from him, from EVERYONE.

Only, the old man kept forgetting.
Most did.
Forgot her that is.
Only the mind reader remembered her properly and she couldn’t be anywhere near him without dissasociating again.

The old man remembered her while she was there but the moment she was out of sight...

At least the money arrived regularly even if she was forced to go shopping.
It was easier just to garden and little Naru seemed to like doing that too.

Mind reader guy sent a lazy looking guy twice a week since he was now a trigger for her and they needed her at least sort of fuctional.

Finally, after the sixth time mentioning it, the Mind Reader fixed up a tutor for her. The silver haired guy was a douche... he was trying though and so was she.

She’s running from some more creepy masks in the woods, only these on have something on them and she’s terrified.

Falls down a hidden hole in the woods.

Unable to get out easily, she follows the passage to a portal. It leads back to her world which seems to have gone a little made.
Hardly anyone on the streets.
She doesn't even know how long it's been.
Even so, she and Naru might be better off here...
She is unsure.
Can she even get back?

She can.

She finds a paper.
She's been gone months but there is a pandemic.
Everyone is encouraged to stay home.
Those out on the streets without obvious reason are being questioned.

She can't do that. She just... can't.
Instead, she keeps to the back alleys and finds the dumpsters of tailoring shop.
So many off cuts that she can use and she helps herself.
Theres also some manuals in English and she takes those too.

She goes back through the Portal, dumps her haul at home and goes looking for the only person she can think of to tell.
The one who arranged for her to have this little abandoned house at the base of a mountain. Not the one with all the carved heads but one of the lesser ones.

She went looking for her therapist, an outclan born member of that mind reading Clan. He doesn’t trigger her being small, dark and Asian, rather than tall, blond and blue eyed… even if he’s got the same lack of pupil.
(She was pretty sure he'd put something in there to make her want to come back... or something but it was worth it not to freeze in panic at the thought of being outside, near people and so on.
She couldn't even bring herself to care that he'd mucked with her head and that he may have implanted these impulses as well.
She was USED to not trusting what he head was telling her.
It was actually helping even if it came with the care of a tiny blond as the price tag.)

She should tell someone but she didn't know many people here and she trusted even fewer.
She still couldn't speak the language though she was slowly getting the gist of it.
Letting him read stuff out of her head was so much easier.

Finding something to make a living off in this strange place was difficult.
She couldn't make a living gaming here but she still didn't like people, interacting with them or being involved with them and the thought of doing so still made her want to freeze and slink away.

Who knew.
Apparently, one of their traitors had been ducking back and forth through the Portal for years.

She was only one in a long string of kidnap victims according to what they found in the underground place.

They couldn't see the portal though.
Only she, and apparently this 'Orochimaru' person, could see.
She'd not noticed all the side corridors being terrified out of her wits but still drawn straight to the Portal.

She has to actually lead them through it and she's nervous.
Germs were a thing and, even after coming out of her shock, she'd been sick as a dog shortly after she was picked up.

They come out in near empty streets.
Everyone is hurrying and wearing face masks.
They’ve given her back her phone so she’s able to connect and check the news.

O-kay… apparently there’s an epidemic. Something called ‘covid’.
Her phone is a security device and she’s so, SO glad to have it back.
Not just for the photos but because it lets her keep track of the world when she can’t people that day.

She has no food and a quick check of her accounts show that her payments have continued so she’s got money.

She’ll need to food shop. She doesn’t WANT too.
Fuck it. Click and deliver it is.

Her little house is still there. Mostly untouched.
She’s home… she safe… except, she’s not because she has bunch of ninja with her.
It was so EASY to believe this was all a dream.

Their Chakra shit doesn’t work here… There’s nothing wrong with their Taijutsu skills though and she couldn’t fight them even if she wanted too.

She’s NOT going back though. She’s NOT.
Naruto verse is compacted trauma and stupidity. You can tell the writer essentially pulled the story line out of their arse and it’s something she really, REALLY wants NO part of.

Why can’t someone Edo Tensie Minato or Kushina to care for their kid? No one’s going to try and attack a zombie Hokage.

She has no reason to keep secrets so she hands them her laptop and another her tablet and… She takes her tablet back, finds Naruto, opens it and hands it to a random Nin.

Still, she hands her phone to a third and switches the languages to Japanese.
Then she tells them to ask Ciri whatever it is they want to know. It will call up the data that matches their requests.

She shows them how to click, tap, whatever and then she goes to her room, pulls out her blanket, wraps herself in it and stuffs herself in her safe nook under the bed.
It’s dusty but cozy and safe.

Later, she’ll go and make herself soothing tea and maybe have a hot bath.
She’s home.
She doesn’t give a fuck anymore.
She’s sorry for Naruto but that’s not on her. That’s on the shit heads in Konoha.
Seriously, would it be that hard to make a tag or seal to alter the kids appearance and place him with a retired shinbi who doesn’t hate him?

She falls asleep there, blanket burrito ing in her fluffy.

She wakes to the smell of cooking and it takes her fuzzy brain a while to click to what’s happening.
She has NINJA in her home. Fucking Ninja.
She wants, so very, very much to boot them all out and let them feel what she felt, dumped into an alien culture and country where they couldn’t speak the language and half their skills were useless…
That was a pipe dream though. They were still stronger and they could force her. (Not inside her head again. No. No. FUCKING NO. Not again. Never!)

It looks like they pulled an all nighter.
They didn’t have to.
The information isn’t going anywhere and neither is Google.

She nods, turns away and shuffles into the shower. This is HER fucking house.
If they don’t like it, they can go somewhere else. She doesn’t HAVE to house them. They can just deal!
She plugs her devices into the various chargers and turns the T.V. on.

In the kitchen she turns on the radio too.
It’s SO good to have familiar sounds… and tunes. The dried food is still good though anything in the fridge is probably developing sentient life.
It all goes out into the compost bin.

Most of the stuff in the freezer is probably dubious as well.
From the state of her Magnums the house has probably lost power a couple of times so anything with meat or dairy was probably suspect as well.
She went through the freezer, tossing anything dubious into an old esky and asked one of the nin to empty the packets into a marked bin outside.

She had powdered milk. (She liked to use it as a snack sometimes)
Egg powder too and some tins of fish and veggies.
That should be enough to keep the Nin fed with whatever they brought with them while she did a big shop.

They can go out and explore or whatever. She doesn’t care. She’s home and she’s staying here.
Wherever they go. Whatever they do. She no longer cares.
She’s not leaving her house again… EVER.

She says as much. If they want her out of here, they’ll have to drag her kicking and screaming. If they want her taking care of Naru kun… they can bring the kid here.
She’s sorry… but she’s not going back. Not now. Not ever.
If they want to know why, read the damn Manga!
Or… you know, the Wiki.
Yeah, the Wiki would probably be better. It got to the point faster.

She opens the Wiki pages and lets them read the translated version.
They can chase their tails down the proverbial rabbit hole.
She needs to touch bases with her psychologist and those few people she keeps in sporadic touch with.

She needs a doctor's appointment too since she’s been off her meds…
And to get more of her meds.

A peek out the back showed that her little kitchen/ herb garden is overgrown and struggling. She’ll get one of the nin to do it.

She can’t outside right now.
She’s not safe.
ITS not safe.
She can’t…
She can't.
Shecan’t
Shecan’t.
Shecan’t.
Shecan’tshecan’tshecan’tshecan’tcan’tcan’tcan’tCAN’T!
Just thinking of it makes her feel violently sick.
It makes her skin crawl.

She’ll get the meds delivered. Something is better than nothing right? Right?

The anxiety is back in full force and she can barely stand to have the Nin in her house. Her house is her safe place and with them in it… she's not.

The conditioning they did to her is holding… just but the longer they’re here…

She grabs the nearest one and says as much.

She doesn’t care if they come back again or camp in her little wooded copse but she is getting more and more rapidly done with EVERYTHING. Them included.

She shows them how to copy and paste pages and then to print them out. They can take all the info they want, call the books they want but she’s NOT going back.

They have a crap ton of documents and information to take back with them and they’re welcome to it.

They’re gone inside of a day and she couldn’t be happier…

And then Naru kun is on her doorstep less than a week later.
O-kay?
Well, whatever.
No one could deny he’d be safer here and his Bidju would definitely NOT wake up.

It was entirely possible the old man would forget about them.
She was all for that.
It might screw their world over but eh, it was a shithole anyway. He’d be safer and happier here.

From the notes, she learns later, that Orochimaru person has been going back and forth for years, learning all he can from her world.

The internet makes it entirely too easy to learn information and they find out that Orochimaru has several university courses and several more Tafe Courses.

Orochimaru actually has Masters's degrees in genetics, biology and so on.
That's… sort of terrifying actually. At least he’s being productive rather than committing further atrocities on children?

Chapter Text

Reinc finds themselves in the body of the female gargoyle, once of the Scottish Clans, currently using the name Demona.
It was obviously in modern times by the SkyScrapers about and the rather plush apartment she was in… curious.
The female gargoyle had a human form by daylight. Idly they wondered if she’d traded the healing ability of Stone Sleep for this.

Demona mark two meets Macbeth again by tracing their bond to the other end of it and the two make a deal. As long as the two of them live, they are essentially immortal. As such, they make a pact. Essentially, she’ll leave him alone if he does the same for her.
It’s a deal.

In the meantime, she has a life to live no matter what plans this body’s original resident had.
Honestly, she had no respect for the female who let hatred and spite eat her up and drown out all the good things she could have had in life.
She’d had a good thing. A great thing with the noble Goliath though grief and rage had contorted her with his loss. The loss of her clan had twisted her and she’d let it break her.
Would that she HAD actually done what she’d told Goliath and joined the Clan in their stone sleep. She might have remained sane.
Well, the Thot’s loss was her gain. She might have no respect for her body’s former resident but she’d be entirely happy to use her former self's many and plentiful gathered resources.
Demona had done decently there at least but where the two of them diverge is that SHE knows knowledge and power are for using, not hoarding.

She was going to ENJOY her life… maybe even get herself a new mate.
If she remembered rightly, there were other Clans out there that didn’t have the history she and the Scottish Clan did. Their numbers were few enough after all and they needed to breed them back up. Even with all of those in the Japanese Clan and the hatched eggs of the Clan in Avalon, there were still entirely to few of them. There couldn’t be more than twenty-odd… and that really wasn’t good enough.
Thankfully, that mess with Thailog was well over with. Perhaps the Japanese Clan would be interested in a bit of new blood… or the English one.
If she remembered rightly, there was one in Peru as well.
She could try breeding with a human as well.

Chapter Text

You are on your way home from a local medieval fair, held at a tourist venue castle.
You’ve had a good day. Your feet hurt from all the standing but your crutches haven’t gotten in the way too much.
You were there with your sister and your mother. You haven’t been able to get together much lately thanks to this and that so it was fun to catch up.

You are catching a lift home because you can’t drive very well due to your leg issues.

There is an odd flash in the mirror and you turn to your driver to ask…

You wake up on a cold metal floor, very sore and very stiff. Your bag is missing but your clothes, including the cowl you bought to match the one you bought your sister, is still on you.

Your crutches are missing and your feet are killing you. The special shoes you bought to cater to your feet issues are too tight because, after an hour and a half, you just wanted to go home and your assistant person of the day was running out of time.

You know if the shoes come off though, it’s going to be a BITCH to get them back on.

You need to get back on your feet, but your legs aren’t cooperating.

You grip the bars and they zap your hands. It’s painful, but no more than the zap from a cattle prod. Still, you need to get up right.
Your cowl is thick material but you don’t really want to damage it… needs must though.

Your cell is a LOT colder without it.

You can still feel the zaps through it but not as badly. You can grip it long enough to pull yourself up.

Play nine men’s morris which you learned at the fair with the two or three other human prisoners.

Humans are space orcs... but they don't account for injured or damaged ones like you.

They mistake your crutches for weapons and your stick figure drawing of them as a walking aid seems to have blown their minds a bit.

Nine Men’s Morris, which you have a copy of as it was handed out as a freebie seece the middieval society had a bench with the game on it and let you use the bench to sit and search in your bag if you were willing to try a game.

It was low key and fun and you played with your sister and lost terribly. You’re not at all logical or strategic

You were given a bag of counters and a print out of the game squares on a piece of paper. You’d tucked it into your cowl without thinking as it came with a matching pouch.

The game is well known through the galaxy and has vaguely religious overtones. That you have it challenges that none of you ‘death worlders’ are non sentient.

Most of the rules have been lost. Rather like the Egypian game Senet they have some idea of what to do but…

Chapter Text

A high placed Gem, fresh from one of the colonies, is stressed out of her brain.

Despite being VERY good at her assigned task, her new subordinates were… less than welcoming. She’s done her best to adapt to the new situation and conform to expectations but she MISSES her old team. No one here is willing to work WITH her. It hurts.

She wanders, unknowing, into the overgrown garden that was once Pink Diamonds.

A very life-like statue is set in the path but the place is solitary and soothing and just what she needs to destress.

She keeps coming back.

Before long she starts babbling to Miss Statue about her day, her week, her life, her stress all of it and how she hates it here.

It was supposed to be a reward for good service. A promotion.
Maybe it would have been if she didn’t feel so lost and lonely. If she had some damn SUPPORT from what was supposed to be her new team… they hadn’t let her bring ANY of her old subordinates and she MISSED them. She knew them and their quirks and how they worked.
She hadn’t WANTED to leave them behind.
She wasn’t given a choice and now she’s here and she HATES it.

She’s stressed and tired and NO ONE appreciates her work. No one. Get things right. Things run as usual and no one notices. Get things wrong and its all her fault… something her ‘team’ quite happily flings at her. They aren’t even particularly subtle about it. She isn’t one of them and they are DEAD certain they could do her job better.

This continues for years, centuries and it hasn’t gotten any better.

Stephen Universe happens.

Things are changing for the better… but not for her.
Her job is as unnoticed and her team as hateful as ever and she’s… she’s just done.
She can’t even bring herself to care anymore.

Even knowing it’s Pink Diamond’s garden she still goes back.

She’s going to say goodbye to the only place that actually listened and supported her.
After today, she just can’t bring herself to do this anymore.

She did not expect ‘Miss Statue’ to speak back… or move.

‘Miss Statue’ has a name. It’s Spinel. She was created to be a playmate for Pink Diamond… who left her behind. Abandoned her. Steven Universe's message to the universe has told her as much so there’s no point in staying here, is there.
She’s been listening to the gem for SO long now and she thinks of her as a friend, even if the Gem dozed off in the garden after spilling her shards more often than she didn’t.

The Gem invites her new? Friend to come with her.
If the others want her job so badly, they can have it.
She’s NOT happy here… never has been so, she’s leaving. She isn’t sure where she’s going to go but she’s… done. Just so, SO done with everything and everyone.
She wants to see her treasured subordinates (she’s STILL in touch with them even though she isn’t supposed to be and has to be circumspect with it) and then she’s just going to… wander. Wherever her resources and whims take her.
She’s so SICK of responsibility, of having no support, of being the one dumped on but never praised, of getting no acknowledgement and she’s so, SO tired.

Spinel is coming with. Maybe it’s time she saw what was out in the universe for herself too.

They stop by Earth so Spinel can settle her OWN loose ends but, after that, anyone coming after them can suck her contrails up to and including the other Diamonds.
Basically, the Gem version of ‘kiss my arse’.

(There is much wailing and panicked flailing when the Gem does NOT show up for work leaving only a timed messages stating that, if they think they can do her job better, have at. They will have plenty of time to display their skills since she’s not coming back.
Have fun with that.

They had not intended for her to take them seriously… they hadn’t!

The dip in quality is noticeable and, of course, it’s those who are there who are blamed.

She left knowing that they would NEVER be able to offer the same level of service that she does since it’s what she was made for but… she can’t bring herself to care.

They’d cobble something together or they’d bring in someone new to fill the sport and that would be that. Maybe her ‘team’ would learn something from this. Maybe they wouldn’t. Not her problem anymore though.)

Chapter Text

There is a princess, born to one of the Emperor's wives - he has three of those to date, and not the most favored one, despite the fact she birthed the first son and Heir. Black of hair and green of eye, the girl is the fourth princess of the kingdom… but she is not well treated or valued.
Even the youngest princess, born of a maid and brought in as a four year old, is more valued.
The Princess isn’t resentful of this little sister.
Everyone adores Mirabelle. Blond of hair, gentle of voice, gold of eye and sweet of nature - as far as anyone can tell.
Even so, the black-haired princess isn’t valued… and it showed.

The princess had a secret. One not revealed to anyone. Not her sweet sister, not the Heir who was her full brother, not her mother who has nothing to do with her outside of official events and she needs to give the impression of being a family woman and not even her most valued brother who went off to mage school and was the closest thing she had to a friend.

This was not her first life.

Well, it was her first in this world, true, but not her first life.
It wasn’t even her fourth life… or her fifteenth.
She is an old hand at this but being a royal will add a level of difficulty.

When she was old enough to understand her circumstances, she started making plans.
It isn’t hard to begin practicing skills learned in other life times.
Exercises, taking up the hobby of ‘embroidery’, actually sewing, stealth training, anything she could make use of.

Interestingly, being neglected is working for her.
A bit of powder in her hair to lighten the colour, a scavenged maids uniform, a request to the head of household about the maid shedules in the guise of placing some of her favourites on duty regularly, and she had the makings of a plan.

She didn’t have much that was purely hers, that she valued anyway, but she did have a small stipend that was hers alone. All royals did.
A few shopping trips where she didn’t actually buy anything but studied a good many things wanting to give her sister and favoured brother a gift made with her own hands, and the money was hidden and tucked away.
The two things she created were decently well done, but they were a means to and end.
The end was appearing to be spending a good deal of money on samples, odds and sods, when she was actually spending only a little.
It also allowed her to create her own stealth outfit. After all, they’d never allow a princess to wear pants, even when learning to ride a horse.
It was beneath her dignaty as a royal she knew they'd say... Particularly for a princess.

She was fourteen before she was ready… the odd, disquieting looks aimed in her direction were only growing.
She couldn’t help but feel it was more than marriage bait they intended for her and she wanted no part of it.

She waited until a large festival where all the royals were gathered, retiring as soon as she could without causing offense as was her want, and then donned her servant outfit.
Extra staff had been brought in for the event, and she had a nice set of sewing callouses now. That, along with ragged nails, slightly rough hands, powdered hair and some makeup to change her face contours and the slightly weary, tipsy or hungover guards paid her no mind.

With her hair cut short and a letter addressed to her mother left on the dresser, she moved confidently out into the city.
The maid's outfit was shucked once she was outside the palace to be replaced by the clothes of a minor noble lad.
The horse she bought was a rough nag but not something anyone would go after her for.

Once out of the city, she’d change outfits again.
The horse would become a pack horse and she a young entertainer. An acrobat, tumbler and juggler. They would see the outfit and not remember the face above it.
(She was just fortunate that, at fourteen, she had yet to enter puberty properly. Her chest was only starting to develop and she had yet to get her menses. Rather late, she thought, but it was working for her now.)
There were only coppers in her purse, the gold and silver sewed into the lining of her shirt and slightly ragged cloak and the cuffs of her pants

The note she left behind stated that since she was unwanted and unneeded, she would leave.
She would make her way with her own two hands.
She didn’t mind if they cast her from the family. They could even make up something she was banished for as a reason she wasn’t around anymore and think no further about her.
If she died, they would never know of it.
If she lived, it would be far from them.
To make sure they had no reason to come after her, she intended to have a priest remove her from the bloodlines, both nobel and royal.
As far as she was concerned, she was just another nameless one among many.
She wished them no ill and would share nothing about any of them… mainly as she didn’t actually know anything.
Have a nice life.

(Unknown to the runaway Reincarnate, her ‘family’ cared a lot more than she thought… though not because they cared about her. No, she was slated to be a ‘sacrifice’ to a patron god, given up to the temple to use however they wished and shut away for the rest of her life. Such was the fate of the oldest princess of that line.
Now, her mother would have to go through the trouble of risking her health by having another child, hoping it was female and hoping it would be an acceptable substitute if they couldn’t get the girl back.
She had been two short years away from being offered at the temple…
They would simply have to do their best to drag her back to do her duty.
Such a selfish child…

They conveniently forgot that she had no knowledge of said ‘duty’, or the fate that would have likely befallen her doing it.
Her mother had been looking forward to seeing the devastation on her face when she was given up and hearing her screams as the priests made use of her, ripping away her virginities as painfully as possible as an offering to their god.
They wouldn’t kill her outright, but she could ‘look forward’ to a life of extremely heavy ‘use’, pain and misery as the would do it again with every high festival. They had it down to art now.
Doing just enough to cause pain but not enough to cause permanent damage and keeping the girl from ending her own life…
Any royal could request to view or join the rites though any child would remain in the temple, dedicated to their god from birth, no matter who sired it.

That, in itself, said what her family was like.
Truly, it was a lucky escape.)

Shift.

In a distant land, at the heart of an empire created through war and conquest, a Princess is born, costing the life of her mother.
As such, her royal sire had not so much as glanced her way from the time of her birth for depriving him of his beloved wife.
The princess was a beauty with sun-gold hair and eyes of a truly vibrant blue. It was the mark of her sire’s line.

Even though the child was all of seven, she knew all to well her situation for she had a secret.
This was her second attempt at her life.

In the first, her father's complete disregard for her turned her bitter and vengeful. She became a tyrant, murdering her way to the throne and losing anything she might have ever cared for in doing so before what remained of her people turned on her and she was executed.

Waking up as a three or four-year-old had been a nasty shock and she’d had terrible nightmares for several years.

This time around, she decided to disregard her father and brother completely…

Now, if only her older brother would get the hint.
He was a CHILD and she feared for the kingdom if he came to the throne.

He was always trying to get her to come out and play rather than leaving her to study the way she wished. She was trying to be tolerant, to be a better person this time out but boy did he make it difficult.
Natter, natter. Nag, nag. Chatter, chatter.
He might be a good-natured boy… but he was too carefree and naive. He made no attempt at bettering his mind or trying to understand the importance of his rank, none at all.
His childishness grated because everything was given to him so easily and she knew, no matter what she did, she would never have any portion of her father’s regard.
(That still hurt, even now, his cold gaze and rejection right up until the end.)
Really, why couldn’t he leave her in peace?
He blathered on so easily about things she KNEW she couldn’t have or do, as if his merely asking their shared sire (the man was no father, not to her) would somehow fix it or make it possible. She knew what she would be barred from and thus, she pursued her own education.

If she could, she would leave the main palace, leaving him and the emperor who sired them behind her.

She was nine when she stumbled into the Empress garden, attempting to duck her brother and was faced with the sire she’d never met.
She held her baring and faced him down, even though his coldness still stung.
Whereas before, she’d thrown herself into doing anything she could to try and earn a scrap of the attention he so lavished on her brother, now she was apathetic.
Why push herself for a useless end?

When the Emperor attempted to goad her, she said as much.
He has no care for her or anything she does so long as it isn’t an embarrassment to their family name, so why should she put herself out?
She did not mean to come here. She was simply attempting to stay out of the prince’s way so that he could concentrate on his studies as she did on hers.
She could recite her lineage if his Majesty truly wished, but she knows nothing she does will ever impress, so she was attempting to save them both time and effort.

He insists so she recites the linage perfectly… and would have even if he hadn’t threatened her nursemaid to prompt her.
It was not like she’d asked to be born or for her mother to die doing so but she has better sense than to say as much.

She does not know what their sire said to the prince be he became more pestering than ever.
To the point, where he actually brought in another young, painfully familiar, noble boy and his female childhood friend.

She fled in tears unable to control herself.
She’d been in love with him, her, both of them and it was hopeless. They never had eyes for any but each other and, even when she became the ruler through blood and death, their eyes never strayed from the other.
The only glances cast her way were of contempt and defiance.

She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t face it. It hurt too much.
Her body was beginning its transition from girl to woman early which hadn’t happened last time and her emotions were everywhere and she just… just couldn’t.

Wherever they were, she was not.

They never even got to meet her properly outside of her brother being proclaimed the Heir.

Her male beloved rescued her from being trapped by some bore at the banquet, giving her a glass of pomegranate juice.
It almost had her tearing up again. He was SUCH a good person. She’d fallen in love with him for a reason and the other girl was his female complement and counterpart… even so, noble or not, they were ignorant children.

He spoke of seeing her at the Magical Collegium where all nobles went to train.
That she would NEVER be permitted to enter.
They didn’t know that she hadn’t a skerrick of the family magic in her body even if she might be able to use other types.
Something that had made her even more looked down upon last time and more scorned which further fueled her resentment.
She was trying to be a good person this time… but the knowledge still stabbed and tore. She SHOULD have been permitted to study there anyway as the family’s magic had dwindled down to mere sparkles of light but her sire had forbidden it.
They couldn’t have her outshining the Heir after all.

She was actually grateful when one of the guests didn’t see her and spilled their drink all over her. It gave her a good excuse to retire early with the barest of courtesies to her sire and the prince.
(She was working on not thinking of him as her brother. She wasn’t part of this family and knew it, even if she’d longed for it once.)
She might have been all of ten at the time but even SHE knew that much.

The prince MEANT well, but he still had the mentality of a child, even at twelve where he was beginning the transition from boy to man.
He, the other boy and the girl who were all trying to befriend her still, despite her coldness, would all be off to school soon and she could only look forward to the potential peace.

Her sire might have no interest in her but, as a princess, so long as she behaved herself, comported herself with dignity and caused no trouble, she could study whatever she wished from the library…
If she took up riding lessons and the basics of sword and dagger play (her nursemaid was scandalized) no one commented. She had NO intention of leaving the palace grounds but it never hurt to be careful.
She had already died once and had no wish to do so again before she became a properly good person. She knew there was a lot she could do with the wealth her rank afforded her. She just needed to learn how best to use it.
She already had a vague plan of saving twice as many in this life as died due to her actions in the other but she needed more knowledge.

A week before he was due to leave for school, the prince became especially bothersome until she finally agreed to leave the castle walls to check out the market… just NOT with him or those other two.

She woke up bound and gagged, dirty, hungry, sore, thirsty and headachy on what felt like a packed dirt floor. She lay still, kept quiet and listened.

Two male voices were discussing what to do with her.

She felt so bad because it had been nearly two days.

How was she taken? She’d been with her nursemaid and several guards!
(Even if she wanted a low key visit, she wasn’t a fool. Those who didn’t know of her Sire’s lack of regard for her might think her an easy way to get money…)

The nursemaid was dead. They’d bashed her head in.

That had her fighting tears. The woman had been so excited to take her charge out of the palace and dress her in walking clothes.
She’d been the princess attendant for as long as she could remember.

The guards, she was disheartened to know, were easily distracted away from their charge of the day and, she suspected, at least a few were either blackmailed or bribed.
The girl KNEW she couldn’t rely on her sire to pay any ransom. After all, outside of image, he didn’t care if she lived or died.
She couldn’t even be sure he’d send anyone after her.

Worse, her ‘hosts’ had realised that.
There was only the two of them luckily even if one had called in a debt for the chance to strike at them.
They were discussing whether to just kill her or not but had agreed to wait another two days at most before turning to that.

So, she had a day's grace to come up with something!

One of the men left and she ‘stirred’ so that they could hear her.
For now, she’d play the innocent and naive child angle up.

She asked for a drink since her mouth tasted bad and then asked who they were and where she was, all polite manners and wide, curious eyes.
Fortunately, they hadn’t searched her and so the belt knife tucked into her undergarments was still there.
She was very weak still though so she’d have to strike through ambush.

They spun her a cock and bull story about her father wanting her to stay here fo a bit and how they’d only tied her up so she wouldn’t run away before they could explain and they had blindfolded her as a security feature. She couldn’t give away their location if she didn’t know.
That made no sense but she let it slide.

She was a little scared when they told her to take off her dress though. They said it was too fancy and now dirty and they'd give her something to wear instead.
She asked them to turn their back or she wouldn’t. Good girls didn’t take their clothes off in front of males…

That annoyed both men but they didn’t argue.
The piece of cloth they gave her to put on was rough, dirty and holey but she didn’t argue.
It would be easier to move without the dress and it gave her a chance to reach her knife.

They gave her water and a little food and then spun exaggerated stories that she listened to in wide-eyed ‘awe’, asking flattering, childish questions.

There was a knock at the door and one of the men went to answer it, leaving only the two of them facing each other across the table.
That was lucky.

She palmed her little knife and cast, over hand. It had taken her entirely too long to get this down to muscle memory again but it used to be one of her signature moves. Her body was weak and child clumsy but she’d practiced whenever she’d a spare second.

The small blade found his eye and he crumpled across the table, dying with barely a yelp.

She got on the table, pulled it out with a bit of difficulty (falling face first onto the table had driven it deep), wiped it on his robe and tucked it away, taking instead the larger dagger from his belt.

The other man returned to find her pushing at the collapsed body’s arm as though trying to rouse it.

“Mister,” she said. “Mister, wake up! You aren’t supposed to sleep in the daytime!”

The other man hurried to his companion, pushing her out of his way… which was fine.
It gave her a chance to get a bit of distance. She wasn’t sure she had the strength to stab with this dagger. It wasn’t super sharp and people’s skin and muscles are tougher than you’d think.
She pulled her tiny belt knife/ throwing knife again. It might be better to try and go for his throat if she had a chance.

Once he discovered the fluid and blood on the table under his friend, he turned and lumbered toward her, enraged and ranting.
Her father was NOT paying the ransom. He HAD sent knights out searching though.

Yeah, she hadn’t even expected the knights. She supposed he had to be seen to be doing something even if he didn’t care for her personally. This was an insult to his family and authority after all.

She cast for his throat but missed, leaving her no choice too fall back on the bigger dagger. She did NOT want to die! Not yet. She hadn’t become a good person yet.
He grabbed her to choke her, lifting her off the ground and she stabbed for the throat, panic and desperation powering her blow.
She was rewarded with being sprayed with blood as he dropped her to clutch at his throat and stumble away.

She sat in the heap she’d fallen in, in shock and dazed, her throat aching.
She didn’t know how long she sat there but it was long enough for the blood to turn tacky.

She touched, was violently sick and then burst into tears.
She found a little water, cut a piece from her old dress and scrubbed as best she could.
She needed to get the blood OFF, NOW!

She knew she should get up and search the three-room house. Search to bodies. Get outside and find out where she was. Do SOMETHING… but she was dazed to concentrate.
She slid down the wall and just sat there.
She might have been a blood-soaked tyrant in her previous life but here she was a softly-raised princess who had yet to see even her twelfth birthday. She was a literal child and suffering again through first-kill shock and trauma.

She was weak, dirty, hungry, thirsty and shocky.

She lost track of time, but when she came back to herself, it was dark.

She dragged herself up slowly and began looking through the house.

There wasn’t much but she did take the daggers and belts from both of her former hosts, kidnappers, attackers and now, first kills. There was little else on them worth taking. They had a few coppers in their belt pouches and she took those too as spoils.

The small house had only the single entrance and the handle was just above her head.
She would need to either try and jump for it or get a chair… chair it was.

Letting herself out was hard.
The beam used to keep the door latched was almost too heavy for her to shift but it wasn't like she’d be coming back right?

She was in the desert. This lonely little shack was in the middle of nowhere and she had next to no resources. She’d taken the water bottle from inside and the last bit of hard bread but it wouldn't last long and she wasn’t dressed for the desert.

She was feeling pretty unwell too and she didn’t think it was just shock. She’d been out for nearly two days. They’d possibly rattled her skull.

She couldn’t stay here though. Those two had people who knew they were here and who’d passed the word to them. Who knew when those people would be back?!

Despite feeling worse by the second, she resolved to die trying rather than waiting for discovery and death.

The wind had blown away most of the tracks but there was enough dirt near the hut that a path had been worn into it, so she had a direction, well, two potential directions, to choose from.

Flipping a coin, she set off in one and just hoped she’d find help or shelter before she lost consciousness…

She had no way to measure time but she’d already fallen and was fading into unconsciousness when she saw riders in familiar uniforms coming and heard shouts and the babble of voices.

She woke in her own rooms again.
Apparently, she’d been sick for over a week and the prince had found something his father wouldn’t move on. His Majesty had not been to check on her or spared her more attention than usual… that is to say, none at all.
Beyond not permitting the young prince to remain until she awakened so he couldn’t even say farewell, nothing shifted in her day to day life.

Now thoroughly uncomfortable with the disregard and the stranger who had taken her nursemaid’s place, she no longer wanted to be here.

His Highness, the young prince, had left her a letter.
As had his two companions.

The young prince couldn’t understand their sire’s lack of care towards her and why he couldn’t change it.

She felt the young man had taken his first step away from being a child in that moment, on learning that some things couldn’t be changed or altered no matter how much a person might wish it otherwise.

She wrote them a joint letter in response telling him that it was not his fault, despite it being his suggestion. They would have gone after him or any other noble or royal as easily as her if they could… even so, she was leaving the main palace as sharing it with a sire who did not care if she was living or dead and had only sent out his men to maintain appearances and avenge the insult done to their family was making her uncomfortable.
She had much recovering to do and to not bother sending a letter in response as she wouldn’t be there to receive it and she didn’t yet know which of the possible recovery locations she would be going to yet.
The main palace may forward any correspondence for her but she didn’t know for sure.
Study hard and stay well...

She gave herself a week to build up her strength, removed and packed several dozen tomes from the main library to read once she was there, and rolled a pair of dice to decide where she was going.

There were three locations it would be good to recover at.

One was in the mountains by a clear lack and was more of a hunting lodge.
The second in a warm, tropical climate by the sea and the last was in an estate on the border of the desert.

She was going to the seaside!

The letter to his young Highness would be dispatched the day she left…

Shift.

Once, there was a princess born with silver white hair and sun-gold eyes.
She was the beloved second child of the emperor though the first child of his new wife.
His oldest child, his son an Heir, was thrilled to be having a little sibling and more thrilled to have a little sister.

Even before her birth, the child was adored and welcomed.

A vast change from her previous life. At least this time the packaging matched the inside.
Before she’d been male-bodied in a place where womenish men were prostitutes. Lady boy’s made their living dancing, stripping and fucking as no one could get a male bodied person pregnant.

She’d hated it but been willing to try if only so she could feel alright in her own skin.

She’d never gotten the chance.

In the nineteen forties and fifties, Korea was ravaged by war and she… she… miserable, alone, orphaned street rat she, was simply another casualty of a shell gone astray. Simply one more civilian casualty among thousands of others.
She died, in pain, untended to, alone and terrified.

Waking again was a shock.

When she came back to herself at two ish and realized her circumstances and birth gender, she cried happy, grateful tears, thoroughly overwhelmed.
She didn’t know WHY she had been given this second chance but she would NOT waste it. She’d be the best, most genuine and kind person she could ever be in repayment.

Her life was running smoothly until a little after her sixth birthday when several people in dark clothes burst into the nursery.
Neither she nor her brother were there.
She was on the way back from the garden with her nursemaid and her brother was having tea with their mother in her palace.

One of these dark clothed people lunged out of the door and towards her, throwing a dagger at her.

The nursemaid screamed but she barely had time to widn her eyes before her favorite maid, the one who had once been a circus acrobat and tumbler and could, occasionally, be coaxed into performing some tricks for them or teaching them a little bit, was suddenly right THERE in front of her, blocking the blade with a sweep of her apron before she flipped up the captured dagger into a defensive pose.

She heard her nursemaid cry out but the other maid had already stabbed the knife thrower and stolen his longer blade.
She cut him down but their were another three coming.

Old instincts she hadn’t needed since her last life kicked in and she scuttled out of the corridor, got low and hid. Screaming for help only brough unwanted attention. To survive, a smart street rat stayed out of mind, out of sight and got to cover as fast as she could if she wished to survive.

Child her didn’t move and barely breathed, not coming out until the noises of battle had been gone for a long time. That' hadn't quite been a flashback but it wasn't far off.

The daylight was fading when she crept quietly out and the body of her nursemaid was still there and so were the bodies of the dark-clothed people.

Her favourite maid was also still there… but she wasn’t sure if she was alive or not.
The little princess crept closer, holding her small hand in front of the woman’s mouth to feel for breath. It was there. Faint, but there.
There were cuts on her arms and a dagger in her shoulder.

Her face was very pale but her eyes opened a crack.
“Lil princesses,” she slurred, and sighed. “You’re ‘live. Thank any’ thing left holy. Sorry. Poisoned daggers.”

The little girl bit her lip, then took her nursemaid’s dagger from her belt, trying desperately not to cry, and cut strips from her nursemaid’s apron to use as bandages and then fell to wrapping the wounds. She wanted the person who had saved her life to LIVE and this is all she could do to help. Then would go looking for help…

Sure she was dying and wanting to comfort the little girl trying desperately to wrap her injuries, the maid whispered, “Would you like to know a se-cret lil Prin-cess?”
The girl paused to nod.

“‘S born a princ'ss too. Not ‘n impor’n’t one though. Was hated so left. Only m’ best friend knows and he don’t know where I ‘m…”

Her eyes closed, making the little girl panic and run for help.

The maid was a long time recovering. So long in fact that the little princess insisted that the person who saved her life be sent somewhere to get better... and her secret was kept as carefully as the little princess own.

Shift

One weekend day, a month and a few days after a certain sunny-haired princess arrived and settled in, she ran into a dark-haired, green-eyed woman with a freshly healed scar down her face, matching ones on her arms and a heavy limp. Her tanned skin was extremely pale and she leaned heavily on her cane.

Ran into literally.

The sunny haired princess, her guard and the maid attending her had just been barged into by a very rude someone attempting to flee pursuing guards… with a purse that did NOT look like it belonged to them in their hands.
They knocked into the other woman heavily and all of them went over.

At least her guard snagged the cut purse?

A man in mages robes and one in guards robes jogged up to the woman and assisted her to a cafe table.

The mage-robed man treated the gash on the woman’s arm and the graze on the young princess. Both females were extremely shaken as neither was well.

The scarred woman introduced the mage robed man as her brother.

He’d come to find here to pass word of what had happened to her mother, one of their father’s now four wives… and what would have happened to her if she hadn’t fled when she did.

Her mother had been a twin with no one sure who was the older. She’d set her sister up to be the one to go to the temple of passions and their priests. Knowing it would be her daughter next and that she had dodged the arrow seemed to have unhinged her a little.
It was well known that part of the reason the dark-haired woman was resented as a child was that baring her damaged her mother’s womb, the woman having caught an illness that nearly killed them both.
The mother was supposed to bare a third child, female by preference, to continue the line but after that, hadn't wanted to risk herself. That was likely the cause of her fall from favour.

The dark haired woman hadn't known that

With her new inability to bare and the dark haired girl's escape, there was only one person left to offer up as a sacrifice… and the emperor wouldn’t sacrifice his Heir… so, the mother it was.

She was carefully guarded but, on the day the priests would have come for her, she was found dead. More than dead even. She’d taken a poison that would contaminate her body making it so they couldn’t resurrect her even if they tried.

Fun how, when it was HER neck on the block it was no longer a necessary sacrifice but something to be avoided any way she could, huh?

As she refused to do her duty, her corpse was shamed by stripping it nude, shaving it bald, and casting it out into the street in one of the poorer sectors.
She wouldn’t be permitted the honour of a royal burial

The scarred and injured woman shrugged. Couldn’t happen to a more deserving creature, birth parent or no.
She could only wish that someone would curse the Heir to have only sons. It might cause trouble with the kingdom later but at least it would keep that ugly practice from continuing as, with herself out of reach and her mother gone, the female line of their family was extinct.

(She didn’t see the interested gleam in her mage brother’s eyes… she might not move to ill wish, but there was nothing stopping her brother.)

After that, the two recovering young women met often at one of the local tea shops, slowly coming to know each other as their health also began to recover.

Over the course of a year where nothing of interest happened to change their daily routines, they became friends.

The brother left occasionally to deal with either mage business or family business but he always returned within a month or two.
No news was heard from either of their birth families but then, none was expected.

The dark-haired woman healed as far as she was going to. She would always have a limp now as she’d taken a dagger to the back of her knee along with the scar that ran down her face.
Her health would always be a little frail now as the poison had had a permanent effect.

Due to the fact she’d saved the little princess' life though, the imperial couple had promised her care for as long as she lived and the little princess had asked that the woman stay as her personal attendant once she recovered as much as she could.

Our gold-haired princess, who was finally beginning to unwind and had taken up proper sword and knife fighting training, along with learning knife tricks and throwing tricks from her dark-haired friend, along with the basics of archery which they were learning together, found she could relate to the mentioned little princess.

When the dark-haired woman returned to the other other little princess in her life, she would miss the other woman a great deal.
She was the friend and older mentor figure the young girl had never had but always wanted, in both lives, and being around her eased some of the loneliness.

A little after the turn of the year, they were paid a whirlwind visit by a tiny sweetheart of a girl with spun silver hair. The little girl was utterly adorable and the younger of the two residing in this resort for their health could see why her dark-haired friend was so taken with her.
Sun Hair had never been one to coo or dote on younger children in either life, but the little girl really made her want to.

She couldn’t stay long, having come incognito to check up on the woman who saved her life, but they would miss her bright and sunny nature when she left. It was like light infused her and she spread it to all she came into contact with.

Something she said also stuck with the middle girl of the three princesses.

Kindness is a choice. Many will see it as a weakness because it can make a person vulnerable, but to CHOOSE to be kind is one of the strongest, hardest things a person can do, even when someone hurts and keeps hurting you.
Some people are truly evil or fanatical and kindness can’t reach them and there is nothing wrong with removing oneself from a harmful situation but, where a person can, it is a choice and a test of personal strength to be kind. Every day, the youngest of them had to decide whether she would lash out when she was upset or angry or if she would do something that would channel her upset instead. Would she strike back at a person who had upset or slighted her by accident or otherwise or would she do her best to be understanding…
It was human nature to want to strike back when hurt after all or to act out when overwhelmed or upset… but a person could LEARN to be better and that was what their youngest princess was working towards. Being the best herself she could be, not just for herself, but for everyone around her too. Not because she had to be or was expected to be but because she wanted to be.

This was said to Sunny Hair when she mentioned that she was trying to learn how to be a better person. A kinder person.

That… actually made sense to the other girl.

They actually had a Magical picture taken and four copies made (the Wizardly brother also wanted one) before the little girl left. Three princesses (yes, she’d let that slip) older, middle, young, with contrasting hair and eyes.

The oldest of them joked that now they just needed a brown-haired princess and a red-haired one, along with brown eyes and gray eyes to complete their set.

The youngest said the Wizarding brother could do for their brown hair and eyed person… now they just needed to find and bring in a noble redhead with gray eyes.
This caused all three of them to giggle and the brother to look bemused.

Perhaps they could find a dark-skinned royal with black eyes to join them…

They truly missed the little girl when she returned home but the letters to them both became a regular part of their lives.

Two more years slid by, nearly unnoticed along with more visits by their third member.
One time with her mother, of whom she was a near mirror image, except for her eyes and one with the older brother who doted on her and with whom she shared an eye colour and a father.

It hurt the middle princess to watch the two together.
If her father wasn’t so determined to ignore her existence and her older brother wasn’t such a child, that could have been them.
Her envy and annoyance had kept her from reaching out to him at the palace, but there was no reason she couldn’t do so now, from a distance, if she wished…
There was no rush though. She could do it when she was ready… or not at all if she never was.

The golden-haired girl found herself smiling and laughing more. Simply happier and more at ease with her life.
She was actually FINE with being forgotten out here.
Her brother would be sixteen soon and on track to graduation.
She was still envious of that and upset that he took a chance she’d never get for granted though. She wanted to learn so badly.

The Wizardly brother made mention of a school that accepted students from all over the world and was THE best wizarding school worldwide. The school the prince was attending was the best in their COUNTRY.

Then, the youngest of their trio who was back again with her definitely pregnant mother in tow had confirmed that while their middle princess didn’t have the magic of her family's line, like the youngest and even the oldest of the princesses, both of them had the potential to use other forms of magic, elemental Magic… if they wished to try.
Her family would sponsor them both with the young Wizard acting as their escort.

Then, she invited both as healed as they were going to get princess, to come home with her so they could all study together.

The older two exchanged looks… they would actually like that very much.

The mother, who had accompanied the little girl this time out as she was pregnant again and her health was a little delicate. They’d be staying for a bit longer this time around until the mother’s health was a little more stable.

The wizardly brother confirmed that she was carrying twins and it was upsetting her internal balance a little.
There were some infusions she could take to help her body level out a bit and he could make them.
Part of the reason he was sent off to Wizard school was so he could assist the royal wives during their pregnancies discreetly… or ensure no more Mirabelle’s came about no matter whom the emperor pressed his attentions on. It's not like any of the girls could say ‘no’.
He was happy to assist such a sweet and lovely lady.

Within three months, her majesty's health and the pregnancy were stable once more and the group prepared to leave with her.

However, she insisted that the sun-haired princess write to her father and inform him where she was going at the least, not accepting that the man wouldn’t CARE what she did so long as the girl didn’t bring shame on the family.

The girl did as she insisted, but set the letters up to be sent off a week after she left and the knight who had been her main guardsman here insisted on accompanying her… much as their resident wizard did for his own sister.

The siblings shared an amused glance. The dark-haired princess had done something similar to get a letter to the only family member she thought might care… only, she’d left it in the care of a small, roadside temple to the local god of light, with her face obscured and her voice muffled so she couldn’t be recognized.

It had basically explained that he was to ignore any rumors.
She was fine and she’d left voluntarily… before they either set her up to be killed or forced her out another way. She wasn’t wanted or valued, not even as marriage bait, so she wasn’t staying to be treated like trash…
Please don’t look for her as she wasn’t coming back, not for any reason. There was something very wrong with their ‘family’ and she wanted no part of it… To the point where she was going to have herself removed from her mother's bloodline, and then her sires.
She would keep the sires so he could track her through their shared blood if he wished and then removed that two after the siblins have sworn blood kinship... is he wants too.
She was letting him know as the only family member who had ever cared about her.

The priest had been suspicious but this wasn’t the first time such a missive had been given to him and nor would it be the last. Part of their oaths as priests ensure any honest, well intentions missive would be forwarded on to the mentioned recipient. Any malicious or deceitful ones would burn up on contact with his hands

With that, the disguised princess had been on her way once more.

Their sunny-haired middle’s letter to her father was more a statement of fact.

While she doubted the missive would reach him or be read if it did, she is writing at the insistence of the family who is willing to host her.
She has an opportunity for a sponsorship to XXX school and, since she knows she will never be permitted to attend the local one, she has decided to take them up on it.
For a chance to be more than marriage bait or a palace decoration, she is willing to risk this.
If she returns safely, she will bring knowledge with her.
If she disappears or dies in the pursuit of it, well, it isn’t like he valued her in any way after all, so nothing will be lost beyond the inconvenient child he blames for the death of his wife. Yes, she dares mention that because he will have no more influence on her life, either possitive or negative.
She hopes she will never stoop so low as to blame a child for the actions of a parent.
Farewell.
Princess XXX, formerly of XXX kingdom.

Her letter to her brother is a little more understanding.

To him, she repeats the offer she was given and that she is accepting it but she also apologizes for being so distant and cold to him. She thinks he’s a little more adult now. A little more understanding, so she can tell him the truth.
At the time, she roundly resented him for taking for granted the care and connection the Emperor granted on him so easily but would never bestow on her, despite also being his child She resented that her brother could mess around and play while interrupting her and that their sire would overlook his actions.
She KNEW if she had done such, she would be punished and, if she wanted anything in life, she would have to get it with her own two hands.
The prince had been given everything she’d ever wanted but could never have on a platter… and just IGNORED it most of the time.
It would have been so, SO easy for her resentment to tip into hatred so she’d kept him at a distance to protect herself.
Now, she has an opportunity to make her own way and be free of their sire’s influence so she’s taking it.
A family she has become friends with while she was away recovering has offered to sponsor her to XXX school.
The offer might be genuine or it might be false. Either way, it’s a chance so she’s taking it.
She wishes him well but hopes he will take his duties to the kingdom more seriously.
He won’t hear from her again unless or until she returns but she’s arranged to have gifts for the important occasions in his life forwarded.
Health, prosperity and long life
Princess XXX

A missive to the other two sent with her brother's letter basically apologiese for snubbing them but their childish talk of things she would never be permitted to do had hurt her and she didn't want to grow to restent them so, like her brother, she'd kept them at a distance to protect herself. If they have a chance to meet in the future, she'd like that proper introduction and to get to know them better.
Princess XXX, formerly of XXX kingdom.

She understands WHY her majesty had her do so.
A graduate of that place can choose to cut any family or national ties when they agree to attend and can write their own path completely should they graduate. They can choose to reestablish any cut tie after if they wish.
Even attempting the rigorous entrance tests are a thing to celebrate.
Due to that, before an attempt is made, parents or guardians need to be informed should they wish to protest it… there have been races between potential students and guardians unwilling to let them go before.
Even attempting to enter can get a concerned minor some protection for themselves and a chance to retest at a later date in their life.

Feeling like she is finally letting go of an enormous burden, the middle girl of the princess trio steps forward with her two friends and their families, hopefully into a new life.

Shift

The missive comes in her second year of study, when the girl is sixteen.
She and her two companions studied HARD for nearly four years before they attempted the entrance exams.

There was a slight delay to allow their youngest member and her brother to recover from a poisoning attempt, where the youngest of the trio came out to her parents as an elemental user, her sister princesses willingly loaning her their strength so she could summon a higher level elemental than her current familiar to help heal her brother since the high priest was on his annual pilgrimage.

All three princesses AND the prince were exhausted and sometimes recovering.

Meantime, the young wizard prince had been called home as things were getting tense.

He confirmed his sister’s suspicion that something was wrong with Mirabelle.
Something attempted to influence him any time his youngest sister touched him and, while he tried to be subtle about it, it was obvious he disliked being around the girl.
Being near her gave him headaches.

He didn’t like the way she was now starting to eye him and the murmurs starting either.

Next time he was ‘called home’ he might just be entering senior testing at his Wizardry school.
Normally, they liked for the junior graduates to get a bit more life experience before they returned, but exceptional or cocky students could attempt the first level of senior testing to see if they were ready for it yet early if they could prove they were ready to try.
None of them quite knew what that testing or requirement was though.
Even if he wasn’t ready yet, attempting it would give him a good excuse not to return.

So far, while back at the palace, he had NO idea why he’d been recalled and was getting annoyed just cooling his heels.

After three months of waiting, he left when one of his Wizarding teachers requested someone to retrieve something for him, willing to trade a little personal training for the student or former student who did so.

The young prince went easily and gladly and put it around he was willing to take any similar quests the masters and student masters might care to send his way.
The situation at home was tense and he could use the distraction.

This had the young man happily chasing all around the kingdoms, dropping by to visit his sister whenever he was in the area and going home for one or two days at most before he was off again.
He’d take the old student dorms to his room at the palace any time. The dorms might be basic but he’d take that over the rancid atmosphere at the place, no contest.

Despite their variety of ages, the three princesses were determined to attempt the entrance exam together, even if they were entering different potential courses. Each student’s course was tailored to them should they manage entry so no two were exactly alike, even if they had similar subjects.

All three passed, if only barely. The oldest and youngest struggled in the physical aspects required while the middle princess simply wasn’t very good at interpersonal relationships and how to manage them due to lack of practice.

As none of the trio had expected to pass on their first try, they were very surprised.

They elected to remain through, rather than attempt retesting for a higher score.
The oldest of the trio was never going to get any healthier than she was, the middle wouldn’t get the practice she needed with a place and people to practice with and the youngest didn’t want to be left behind.
There was something she was seeking that could only be found at the academy and she needed to be on location to find it, even if she wasn't sure exactly what it was.

The celebration inthe kigndom of the third princess was long, extravagant and for all three of them, the other two fo their trio having become close to their family after being sponsored by them.

(Unnoticed by all but the Empress, the youngest princess older brother was watching their once maid with interest, though he said nothing. Not yet anyway. The woman was older than him by six years and her health wasn't the best... Still, he couldn't help but be interested. He'd see how things went at that exclusive school. Being a graduate of that place would negate a lot of the censure he would have gotten for marrying someone who wasn't even of noble blood.)

It was a struggle at first but that didn’t matter. Every day was engaging, new, different and a challenge. They could feel themselves stretching, growing, and expanding to accommodate all they learned and the new ideas and shifts of worldview that came with them.
They each found other friends and associates but remained close with each other.
The older two princesses decided to cut ties with their former names and kingdoms, simply becoming Princess XXX of XXX course XXX school. They both chose to keep ties with their brothers though.

The missive coming in had the middle of their trio pensive.
Her sire, it seemed, had gotten himself poisoned.
Some Mage had told him that some blood from either a person who either loved him or had a deep, meaningful relationship with him… or even a genuinely respectful one. It would destroy their vitality, along with their ability to reproduce in order to restore his own.

In her return missive, she urged him NOT to allow his sire to do that. She didn’t know if the mentioned ritual truly would heal the man but it was also strikingly like the beginning of a bloodline curse.
One of her classmates is so afflicted and she has been studying them in an attempt to help…
If her brother could get her either a sample of his sire’s blood or the poison vial, she has an in with one of the school’s medical researchers who could possibly give them the name of the poison and if anything can be done about it.
As to his majesty, if he was truly interested in reaching out, he may do so himself.
She doesn’t care enough about the man to do anything on his behalf… but she doesn’t want her brother to suffer and he would if the man died.
She was willing to send him all the notes and research she had on it but it would be magically sealed and sent to his female friend. Only the young Prince’s blood could be used to open the package or read the pages.
The prince will have to remain with any person attempting to read it.
She wishes him well and hopes they can meet again sometime in the future.

Word comes a few months later via her brother that their sire has recovered but has anew trio of Magical Affairs advisors made up of a Mage, a Wizard and a Sorceror.
She put it out of her mind as dealt with.

Chapter Text

She isn't sure what the hell is wrong with her husband.
(That's a lie. She knows EXACTLY what's wrong. Obsession is an ugly, ugly thing and, all of a sudden, she wants her own source of money from a non shared account again. She did was her parents expected and married the up and comer and had come to genuinely appreciate him... until now. She was round with child and he couldn't care less, except for the fact that she was carrying his heir.)
Whatever it is though, she's becoming increasingly uncomfortable around him and it's not due to her pregnancy.
He isn't interested in that save for the fact she's gestating his Heir as expected. He isn't interested in HER. She's not his life partner anymore. Not even a feature in his life. Simply the wife he married as expected. Gestating the heir as expected.
After that, she's not even a blip on his radar...despite the fact she's fought hard to make a life with him, to connect and be his wife.
This, apparently, no longer matters. Nothing matters save his obsession, save finding the 'brother'/ scientific subject he lost.
Never mind that she was friends with Steve too, that it was Peggy AND her the two leaned on.
She wasn't just 'the wife', she was a scientist in her own right. She too had been to collage, she held her own PHD's that, despite her place in society, she's kept her qualifications updated. She's not the genius her husband is, but she's no dullard either.
He's not the man she though she knew. He's leaning on the bottle more and more. It's starting to scare her.
No, a separate source of money is beginning to look like an absolutely FANTASTIC idea.

Part of her 'shopping funds' are given to Jarivs to squirrel away for her. Her bills might got to her husband but she is pregnant, heavily.
Giving the butler money to by baby things isn't unexpected. That not all of that goes on baby things... well, her husband isn't really paying attention right now. Too much of anything.
She starts making plans depending on how he acts.
She knows she told him the sex of their child but she doesn’t think he was listening. She'll know soon enough.

As she predicted but dearly hoped wouldn’t be true, Howard takes one glance at their daughter and storms away, blaming her. The sad thing is, she gets the feel he would have done the same to a son. Nothing and no one will be good enough until or unless the man he had a hand in creating is found.
Time to put her plans into play. She will have to be distant until she can take steps… even if it kills her to do so. That’s her baby girl.

Still, she’s had time to plan and she has given her husband his one last chance.
He failed. Miserably.
She thinks her husband and many, many others forget that she is a BIO chemist even if she has been mostly playing around with it on an Artisan basis.
The testing phase is done and it’s time to use her additives to her husband. With as much as he’s been drinking it won’t be hard. A compound here or there to plant his attention, make him directable and or distract attention as needed.
They will take time to set in properly.
Jarvis is her enabler and he already adores their daughter. Their little Toni Sophia.

Funds are already being diverted and set up.
Toni will need to be raised carefully. She will need to be raised to present a certain front while planning for another.
No true Slytherin… she isn’t sure what that means. Simply that it’s motto to live by and she’ll raise her little girl in that mind set.

Those first two years were hard, hard, so, sooo hard.
She was with her little girl as much as she dared but she couldn’t draw Howard’s attention by changing her habits too much. A little is acceptable to accommodate the new infant but he still expects her to handle the social front. It’s what a wife is for, after all, beyond breeding an heir.
She is careful not to do anything that would draw attention.
Toni is so, so bright. Her little girl is a delight and Howard can’t fucking see it. It’s heart breaking. She does her best to ensure the man isn’t around as much as possible.
If she could. If she dared, she would divorce the man but she can’t give her little girl access to the running start she needs to step up and take over for her father when the time comes. Don’t get her wrong. Her little girl would go far just on her own genius but it’s a parents role to smooth the way where they can and this is HER LITTLE GIRL. Her precious daughter. She will go to and through Hell for this precious scrap of stubborn life that she's helped create.
Already her little one is following her the cues her mother gives and learned to watch.

Peggie blows in and out of their lives and if she sometimes brings along a girlfriend who passes on a tip or two, well…

Jarvis is no Alfred to have a past that allows him to pass on training to his young charge but he IS an excellent male role model. Far better than Howard was.
Twice their little genius takes something she’s created to her father and twice she is smacked down, literally and her creation broken… but little Toni is already playing a role. She will be brash and hasty. She will be irreverent and ballsy. Most of all, she will HIDE are ability to watch people and play a long game.
She already has her father figured and knows that, despite the official distance between them, her mother loves her more than life. Loves her enough to make sure she has the training and weapons to do as she wishes and defend herself from her father and his cronies. Knows how to figure out who to trust and who not too…
Maria is SO proud of her headstrong, brave, genius of a daughter and finds careful ways to let her know it.
Sadly, she needs to keep her husband alive for as long as she can until her daughter is ready to step up.

They are assasinated when her daughter is fifteen but Toni has learned her lessons well. Maria has poured everything she can, love and affection included, into her precious, precocious girl. Even though Maria does NOT trust Obadiah Strain she does trust her daughter.

Maria lingers, unsure how she is, but remains tied to her daughter, unable to do anything but watch. Even so, she’s so, so proud.

Her daughter, though she grieves, doesn’t forget her lessons.
Even as he sells her out, Obadiah Stain is being taken down.

The Ten Rings was hell and she’s got a new glowing chest accessory but Mama didn’t raise no quitter and Toni Stark is NOT going to die here!

Meeting a slender, dark haired, green eyed Asgardian wasn’t in the game plan, even if she did practically land in his lap. The smoking hot guy with the metal prosthetic arm was a nice bonus too… and hottie A managed to fix Yinsen. Which she’s, you know, grateful for. He was sort of bleeding out.

While Starktech was split between weapons and actual technology they’re now going to be leaning towards the tech end of the spectrum.
She’s NOT going to just abandon the weapons side of things, despite being on the opposite end of them thanks to the Ten Rings (Fuck YOU fucking STAIN!)
She’s a loyal American and America’s soldiers deserve the best quality the armed forces can afford… besides, it gets her a LOT of leeway.

She takes Yinsen and hottie B home with her. Hottie A has an open invite even if she wasn’t entirely sold on the whole ‘Magic is real’ deal OR that he was supposedly an Azgadian God.
Hottie A or Loke’s as she calles him, starts turning up more often because it isn’t often she finds someone who can keep the fuck up, with minimum prompting and it’s the same for him.
Asgardians aren’t innovators and the races who do tweak and build, the dwarves and occasionally the elves, aren’t peoples he’s really welcome among.
Midgard, Earth has so MUCH space for invovation and creation and people are lauded for it.
Made much of, rewarded and paid for their efforts.
It’s acceptance and he RELISHES it.
It doesn’t take him much to update himself on tech even if he’s a little clunky using it still.
They spark ideas off eachother and it’s SO much fun.
She’s never had a partner who can keep up before…
He’s helping her Magic Proof the Tower too.

Apparently her mama didn’t move on but Hottie A, Lokes, can help there if they both want.
Toni does.
Her awesome, elegant, cunning Mama who didn’t deserve the dick bag her sire had become, deserves her rest.
Hell, Lokes cane even get the glow ball of doom out of her chest. Magic is SUCH a cheat!

Chapter Text

For once, you are a TRUE side character.
You can’t say for absolute sure as you have NO idea what story you’re in but it’s got all the feel and vibe of a light novel and, unless you do something to change it, you, as the oldest and only legitimate daughter of a noble, mage line family, are due to be married off profitably. You’re actually looking forward to it as it's a way out of the family and, more importantly, away from the house and its messes and drama.
You just want a quiet life…

At the same time, you can’t ignore the poor illegitimate kid who’s locked up in the attic.
You KNOW they aren’t treating her right… but, you don’t want to draw attention to yourself or cause trouble, and protesting about your tiny half-sister’s treatment very much would.
You don’t want her latching onto you either.
It might be cowardly but you DON'T WANT TROUBLE.

When you can, you sneak her books, dry foods that store well, water, blankets… none of it’s flashy or of great quality but you’re taking things that, hopefully, won’t be missed and that your small sister can hide them if she needs to.

You told her the first time you dropped something off, the door between you, that you were sorry and you will try, but you can’t go against father… or something worse than what is being done to her will likely happen to you.
Right now, your match is arranged with a perfectly agreeable guy who you think you could come to love… but if you anger Father, who knows who you’ll be matched with? You can’t risk it. You're sorry that you are such a coward but you just... CAN'T!

The best you can do, when the kid is six or seven, is ask your father if the thing in the attic can even read or write… and isn’t it shameful for any of his bloody to be peasant ignorant?
How can they trade her or marry her off if she can’t read or write and doesn’t know her manners? The family should at least get SOME use out of her. She’d make a decent offering for someone’s concubine at the least.

Your father, in his usual manner, decides that you may have a point but he’s not admitting it and, if you’re so worried about it, YOU can teach her.

You aren’t happy, but you’ll take it.

You had checked the attic and made sure she had the basics, bed, desk for studying, wash jug, and basin. Blankets… you are quite annoyed to find the child didn’t have shoes or socks and had only a ragged smock for clothing. That’s truly pathetic. Necessities are slowly added.

You take snacks with you when you teach and have a small meal sent up.
You warn her not to get attached. It’s Father’s order that she be taught so as not to shame the family further…
You remain stern and firm... but the snacks are often left behind along with other small tokens that won't be missed.

You are to be married when you turn sixteen and you are seven years her senior. Unless the marriage is delayed for some reason, you’ll have a few very short years to teach her. It's a good thing your far too small sister is bright and determined. She learns easily and quickly.
The manners part was the hardest bit.
The girl had been raised in complete isolation and ignorance. She didn’t understand the whys for most of it, which, fair. Most of these ‘rules’ didn’t make sense.

You told her to learn them anyway or be punished.
You couldn’t be too soft with her as you would be judged on her behavior.

Finding the perfect balance of fearfully stern, ‘doing my duty so I also won’t get punished’ so she didn’t get attached, and sneaking in small kind gestures so she didn’t completely hate you was hard. You don’t want complications and you want to rest this life, but at the same time, you aren’t willing to completely screw over an innocent kid. It isn’t HER fault your father couldn’t keep it in his pants…

You didn’t interfere directly when the maids mistreated her but snuck her what you could later on.
If you let her occasionally overhear mutters of ‘How could they treat a child like this?’ and ‘If my husband were to bring one home, I’d make HIM pay… not an innocent child,’ ‘and that you HATED this family!’, then that was fine right? Because that was how you genuinely felt. You just didn’t want the girl getting attached to or reliant on you.

You made it clear that you couldn’t act in the open and she was best relying on herself… You did help her learn whatever she wanted though because she was probably going to need it for whenever she made her break.

The child, a pretty little thing with white hair and crimson eyes, joined her first family dinner at twelve… and it was also then that the missive for a mage of your family to be sent to the North to support the lines there against the monster hoards came.

Your shit of a little brother volunteered your sister for it and you’ve never wanted to hit anyone so much in your life. The girl is fucking TWELVE.
You slip her some Magic books for the journey and hope it will be enough.
You’ve no doubt that one way or another, that tiny brat will be back to rip this ‘family’ to pieces and hope to be out of the line of fire by then.
Collateral damage is NEVER been an ambition of yours.

She does not attempt to contact you for which you are grateful and your marriage goes smoothly. The youngest sister is NOT contacted or invited.

Later, you watch from a distance as the Lord she was sent to serve under takes her as his adopted daughter and the bio family is disgraced and ruined and consider it a job well done.
You’d raise a glass in her direction but you are pregnant with your second child and anything alcoholic has you grabbing a bucket.
You've done it.

Chapter Text

When her king would not listen to her council… she might be only an attendant and bedmate, he would not even dignify her with granting her the title of concubine role, let alone that of consort, she knew she’d have to make other plans if their race was to survive.
She might be lowborn but she had ears everywhere.
The servants were glad that one of their own had risen so far, even if it was unofficial.

(It wasn’t that great. She was stuck. His Majesty wouldn’t give her any title, but he wouldn’t allow her to leave either.
She knew she was just a convenient body and no one would replace his Queen in his mind but he must feel something or he wouldn’t keep her near him… even if the young prince didn’t approve. She made no attempt to make nice with him or suck up and she kept the king’s secrets with her life. She was LOYAL… if unappreciated.)
As a mere third class AND a female, she knew she should be grateful for even that much and she was… she really, really was… but she just wished her lord and king would heed her carefully gathered information occasionally.

But no, he wouldn’t listen so, it was time to make other plans.

She did NOT trust Lord Freeza and she knew she wasn’t the only one.
Bardok might be a third class like her and a scientist, but he was not a fool.
A few workers in the natal center agreed.

It was time to fudge some records. Rather than a single infant and third classes only, they would sneak in second and first-class infants and female, two male trios.
Little attention was paid to third classes and the modifications to suit and program the trios would be easy enough. Sending the babes out alone was cruel anyway. Saiyajin did better in company rather than alone even if they were intended to be picked up later, eventually.
The males would act as rivals/brothers with each other and the female would be their breeding partner when the hormones kicked in.
The pod would program all three of the trios to accept their roles.
With the variety of Classes, hopefully, if Lord Freeza DID betray them, the Saiyan race would still survive and could, perhaps, stage a comeback.
They would be sent to the dark corners of the universe where they could, hopefully, perpetuate their race without interference. They could rise gain and likely would. Saiyajin didn’t do peace and quiet. They were an aggressive species.

It would take some mislabelling in the natal center and a few falsely reported infant deaths, but it helped that all babies were placed in the same natal center for their region.
The coordinates to each of the triple pods would be wiped as the infant was sent.

She didn’t believe in the legend of the Super Saiyajin and likely wouldn’t live to see the results of this work, but if her people survived, it would be worth it.

Perhaps her own infant would join them.

She had not told the king and had no intention of doing so. Neither the King nor the Prince would tolerate a potential ‘pretender’ to the throne.
The pregnancy would need to be accelerated while His Majesty was away at Lord Freeza’s behest.
The King would not take her off world… he rarely took the young Prince either but this time, Lord Freeza had demanded both their presences.
She didn’t trust it.

-

Twins, she was carrying twins! Both female.
Accelerating the pregnancy had done unfortunate things to her health and she would pay the price for the remainder of her life but it was worth it.
No matter what happened, the bloodline of her King would survive. He might have been only using her but he was still her King, still the strongest of them all, and she. Was. Loyal.
She was just more loyal to the survival of their people.

Her daughters were strong and beautiful. At least low-level First Class.
Bardok’s oldest son, Raditz, a Second Class and in training already.
His second son had been sent off before they had come up with this scheme three years ago.
His youngest son, sons actually, were due any day from the twin females he'd mated and would be paired with her little princesses Remon and Raimu (females usually got fruity or leafy names).

For her strong little girls, she was willing to pad things a bit. It was necessary that the princesses survive.
There was a twin world with both of them viable. Her twin princesses with their twin mates (both sets of males would be twins) would be sent to twin worlds, both uninhabited.
They would know they had twins on the world just across from theirs and, if they were clever enough, they would be able to alter their pod enough to go and see them.
They would know they were of a royal line but unacknowledged and hidden for their own safety. Their task would be to raise their numbers and find others to strengthen their race further. They were to survive, live and spread their race across their world.

Each pod also contained other samples, mostly of great Saiyajin warriors and scientists, in case of an accident or the two males not taking to each other. It also had schematics to rebuild and expand the pod. If the child reached the age of fourteen, they would be drawn back to the pod and the information would be uploaded into their minds.

-

Her worst fears were coming to pass.

Bardok and his fellows had staged their diversion of an uprising and she… she was nowhere near the King or the Prince.
No, she had triggered the doomsday protocols. Every single infant in the Natal centers over the planet, every pregnant female and every youngling under two that she’d been able to kidnap from the training halls while the males were distracted had been shoved into any transport available. More pods and capsils had been made on the sly and now, she was abandoning stealth completely.
On the destruction of their planet, ALL would launch using the explosion as cover.

She had no illusions they would all survive. In fact, if even a tenth survived that would be beyond her calculations but at least some would and she would have fought the only way she could. Females couldn’t become the strongest fighters but they were EXCELLENT at surviving and she thought her king might have forgotten that…
Their race WOULD survive!

Like Bartok, she would go to her death proudly, knowing that her children LIVED.

Chapter Text

The Addams Family is actually a single being and a collective. No one, outside of them/ it knows or remembers their origin.
They aren’t actively hostile to humankind… but neither are they beneficent. And they are very, very inhuman in their reactions and responses even if they have learned to fake being human pretty well over the centuries, adapting more with each 'spouse' brought in.
They appear fully human in more modern times, except for on odd occasions when their inhuman nature would break out and they'd do something physically impossible for humans like free climb the outside of skyscraper to get to the roof by scurrying up the sides.

By joining or marrying into it a person becomes part of the collective and the next best thing to immortal. Children are created in the traditional way but they grow up as part of the Collective from birth.

They also have access to 'storage' which has anything a previous Addams ever owned or a new Addams has brought in. When seeking for an item a member of the family's few scans, then focuses their sight on where the item is in storage.

The reaction time of the detachments increases when away from the central source of the being.

If an Addams from their side of the family crossed the sea, they were out of range of the creature. If they died there, the being was left with only the gathered impression of them. Sort of like a magical portrait from Harry Potter only they weren't able to move away and needed to be fed energy and maintained by the being while the living ones could maintain themselves.

As all were part of the collective, it was possible to consult ancestors many generations back though some were 'sleeping' and couldn't be awakened while some woke and were active rarely. If there was a need, they could be accessed.

The being the American version of the Addams family was isn't the only one of its kind.
It has spawn around the world creating their own version of the Addams family and they can communicate though not support a detachment across an ocean.
Only digital life hasn't been incorporated so far.

Magic of the Frankenstein and voodoo sort exist and the being/s can make use of both sorts easily.

Chapter Text

You snap to yourself before you enter a room.
Before going in, you sit, lotus position (surprisingly difficult in this great expanse of corset dress) and attempt to Cultivate. It is not entirely successful and your body is a mess. You have SOMETHING but you aren’t sure it’s ki. It’s mentally based at any rate. A closer examination shows that it’s dream-based.
You’ll have a lot of work to do later but… In the meantime, there is a young man in that room. Before you can make a judgment, you’ll need a closer look.

You allow muscle memory to take over.
The body enters and inflicts a nightmare on the sleeping young man. Well, that explains that. Dream manipulation and viewing… and the original owner wasted it on this.
Seriously. You will have to examine the residue and memories more closely later for her reasons. You just don’t know enough yet.

The boy jolts awake and drops to the floor, begging and pleading.
A collar around his neck and it’s heavy chain confines him to quite a nice room all things considered.
Obviously, she’s reduced the young man to this, deliberately conditioning him so that his little more than a whimpering puppy, grateful for any scrap of kindness or positive attention shown to him. WHY though. From the get-up this body is wearing, she’s obviously a noble so she should be well enough off… she’s spent a LOT of time and effort on this.

You shake your head. You still don’t know enough.

You call the pup to you and he creeps forward, teary-eyed, begging and fawning like a whipped cur. Longing for the promised affection, but fearing torture or a beating instead.
He kisses your feet and nuzzles at your ankles. Before rising to his knees and allowing you to cup his face.
He nuzzles into the touch. What a mess has been made of him. His brain is addled, drugged.
Oh, she’s made a proper job of it. It’s going to be a mess to deprogram and it might not be entirely effective either. The previous resident of this body has done a thorough job of ingraining herself in this pup’s mind as his god.
Outside of a complete mind wipe, he is never going to forget this… perhaps not even then.

You break from the usual, telling the pup he has done well but you will be beginning a new phase of training soon. You will expect his usual obedience and cooperation for it. It will be harder, but the rewards will also be better.
Once complete, he will even be permitted to lie with you and bring you pleasure.

The teary eyes widen and overwhelmed he drops to his belly, pressing his lips to your shoes and babbling his devotion and willingness over and over until you order him to silence and to get on the bed.

The new training begins with this.
You hand him a bottle of antidote for the drug mucking up his system and screwing with his memories. You’ll need a professional to give him a proper look over before you make plans and you need, absolutely, to learn more, not only about this situation but your current body and this world as well.
You have a lot of work to do.

You tell the pup he has done well, caress his face once more and drop a kiss to his forehead, sending him shivering and shuddering.
You tell him it may be more than a week until you can return, but he is to remain cooperative with his caretakers and not to cause them any trouble… You also tell him that this is NOT a punishment. He has already taken the punishment for sleeping in your presence like the good beast he is. No, this is simply a commitment that you can’t get out of and if he patiently waits, he will be rewarded properly. After all, it is not his fault that family commitments have increased to the point where they are encroaching on time you wish to spend elsewhere.
You are NOT leaving him or throwing him away this is just… unavoidable.
You raise his head and kiss his lips, slipping him some tongue and flustering him.
You promise him similar rewards if he can patiently endure until your return.
With a final admonishment to behave you walk out of the room.

Once the door is closed, you lean against it and sigh. What a MESS. That had been… hard.
Dominatrix isn’t really in your nature. Too much like hard work and she’s gone too fast and too hard in her eagerness to make him over to her wishes.
Drugs to mentally inhibit and make him suggestable AND dream control? Talk about overkill.
You’ve seen similar training and conditioning of course. Stripping a person of selfhood made them easy to direct and control… but you aren’t sure why it has been done to this young man.
From what you can tell, he’s roughly sixteen-odd now, so he’d have been fourteen when she picked him up. The lad had said he’d been here for two years…
Hmmm.
So, from simply what you can observe already, this is the body of a noble woman, one set in a pre industrial revolution country/world (from the horse drawn coach) and this young lady, outside of being an amateur dominatrix, is very wealthy… but possibly faces abuse at home.
Given medieval attitudes towards tutoring/training and a young noble woman’s place, it’s entirely possible she faces domestic abuse at home.
If that is so, the responsible party needs to be neutralized… which might be why she was ‘raising’ that pup come to think of it.
From the reactions of the servants and maids, your current self doesn’t have a good reputation either though they are properly deferential.

In the bath, you notice bruises along the arms and legs of this body. Definitely abuse.
The master of the house is away… and the probable source of the abuse. Good to know.
Searching around finds you a diary… a predictive diary, listing events right up until this person’s death by former ‘pet’.
Well, fuck.

You strip and begin to Cultivate again, focusing not only on this body’s memories but focusing on why she has picked up her pet and what she intended him for.
Oh ho. Pet is a prince. Third prince of the kingdom actually.
While she’d called him her beast and Mag, his actual name was Magnus.
Though he’s been trained to call you Miss Lyna your actual name is Ilyana of house Glayne, a Marquess to be once her father passes.
He must have seemed like a miracle dropped into her lap. Someone she could use against her father who she was terrified of. Lovely.

Four days into your Cultivation efforts, the master of the house returns and your body stiffens up in terror. Fair. The training methods that have been used on you, though not unusual for a medieval society that doesn’t know any better, are barbaric.
Beating and starvation to reinforce ‘lessons’. More beatings to ensure you would never think to move against your sire and will do what you’re told…

Fuck that noise.

You’ve been practicing with the local inhabitants and you WILL ensure that additives are included with the master’s meal. It isn’t hard to lean on them a bit to make them more compliant to your wishes… or set a few subliminal commands.
With your ‘pet’ to deal with, you aren’t dealing with your abusive only relative too.
Especially since this body is weak from both the beatings and the malnutrition his screwing with your ability to eat has done to it.

You have influenced the maids and now there is a stash of long-lasting food.
You forget the name of and it was made in the kitchen of the house where the pet is kept, so the servants won’t know of it either, but you’ve used this stuff before. It doesn’t taste great but it keeps for years and has enough fat and calories that it can be lived off.
It was made of animal tallow, dried meat and fruit made into neat little travel bars.
To that, you add fruit, nut and honey travel bars.
You won’t have to worry about being starved again BUT it’s going to take time to undo the damage, both to you and to the pet.

So, you have met the man once and allowed your body to auto-pilot while you probed at him.
His methods have turned your previous self into a sociopath. For some, it's a birth issue, for some, it’s damage taken and then there are cases like your current self where she has been trained and conditioned into one.
(That explains her ‘beast’. He is both her chance for vengeance and her vent and, even though he’ll be her death, for her it would be worth it to both escape her father and set said pet on a path to ruin the kingdom and destroy those in both their way. Her tool that she has absolute control over since she can’t control most of the rest of her life.)
The father is cold, hard and cares about his daughter only in that she is his only blood heir. At the same time, even if he didn’t trigger a trauma/ fear response from this body, you can’t just kill him. He has a high position in the Emperor’s court. One you probably won’t inherit but you WILL inherit his title so there’s that.

You have learned enough that you can peak into a dream without revealing yourself.
You nudge his dreams only enough to give you a feel for the man.
Then you think ‘fuck it’ and place a tag on him to make him subconsciously desire not to have to look at you.
He leaves within three days and you can breathe again.

You go to the ‘pet’s’ cottage more often as, outside of the carers who only drop by to feed him, there is no one here and Cultivate. This body has a crap ton of impurities and has taken a great deal of damage. It also needs retraining. Outside of the damage it’s noble woman delicate. This girl hasn’t done a day of hard exercise in her life. She’s weak and soft and you HATE it.
Cultivating is a cheat but you’ll take all the help you can get.
The results are slow to come and pretty pitiful compared to some other lives, but they do come.
What you wouldn’t give for a phoenix pill or a couple of thousand year ginseng. Hell, you’d settle for fifty year or even ten year ginseng at this point.
You make due with cleansing herbal infusions and teas.

An ear is kept on the social scene though you don’t receive many invitations to attend events.
It would seem this young lady isn’t very social. That’s useful… for now.

A week has passed by quickly and you dress up to visit the pet again.
This time, you bring with you a man with a scarred face. He’s a skilled underworld healer and doctor and knows how to keep his mouth shut.
He’s already given you a brief go over. Now it’s the pet’s turn.

The ‘beast’ has been awaiting you eagerly. He springs from his bed to bow low, whimpering a little in his eagerness.
You inform him that you will be doing something different today and that you know he has endured the separation without causing problems like a good beast. He will be rewarded, but first he must get back on his bed and strip his shirt.
You have brought someone to check his condition and he must cooperate fully if he wishes that reward you promised.
He obeys immediately and the check over is done within five minutes.
The man looks like he wants to get a little handsy with the pet (and you don’t blame him. Despite confinement, drug addiction and the screws put on his mind, he’s fine figure of a young man) but knows better.
You tell the pet to sit and wait patiently while you see your guest off, but that you will return shortly. He may put his shirt back on.

The doctor gives his report which went pretty much as expected and you allow him the use of your coach to leave. It will return a few hours before evening. He knows what will happen if he doesn’t keep his mouth shut.
So… as expected, the pet is thoroughly addicted to the rather dangerous mind altering drug used on him though the amount and dosage have been carefully controlled so he’s still in decent condition, all things considered.
He will face an ongoing battle with addiction due to this bitches efforts but you can help with that. Cultivation works on more than just one person but you will need to build up to it.
That diary indicates that she didn’t pick him up at random, even if he was dropped into her lap.
As the ‘beast’ is the third prince of the kingdom, you are going to need to look into bloodlines, both his and your own.
Meantime, you have a ‘pet’ to reward as he has caused no trouble, despite the detox likely hurting like a bitch.

You return to his room and call him to you immediately. He comes to you, cringing, fawning and kissing your feet. He nuzzles at your ankles and you tell him ‘up’.
You take his face in your hands and cradle it.
“You have endured well,” you tell him. You know this new training has been hard on him and will continue to be so but it is necessary. You have plans and for that, you need him to be more than just your beast. Beasts are usually stupid and, though he is good, obedient boy, your plans need him to slowly return to being human.
As he has endured well, this explanation will be his reward.
More will be revealed, but he has some tasks to do to earn it. Is he up for it?

Fawning more and nuzzling into your grip he assures you, almost frantically, that he is and that he can do it.

You smile at him and assure him that you know he can. He is YOUR beast after all. Your beautiful beast and you don’t waste your time on the unworthy. You have invested a lot into him, so he may hold that to his heart. He may have pride in being chosen as yours.
You assure him that he WILL NOT be tossed aside. Not willingly…

You order him back to the bed and to kneel facing the window with his shirt off.
You wish to check something and you know your obedient beast will hold still and let you do it.
It might be too soon for this, but trying can’t hurt.
With a deep breath, you touch the meridians accessible through his back and run your pitiful amount of ki through them.
It’s not really enough to do much of anything, but you are able to ascertain his general condition.

Physically, he’s not too badly off. Mentally and emotionally, he’s a wreck.
You had some hints… Something about a contract with a beast and what it took to bring it out
You didn’t have all the details though.
You needed this boy more clear headed so you could probe his memory and you needed to look up both your family and his own.

The lad shuddered under your touch, gasping, but held himself as still as he could.
When you were done, you could feel him holding himself rigidly, or he would have slumped.
You embraced him from behind, pulling him back against you and covering his eyes with your hand. You kissed him behind his ear and told him he’d done very well before running your hands down his chest and back up again.
He shuddered again, flustered and whimpering both in confused distress and pleasure.

You released him and ordered him to lay down but to pay attention.
What you had just done, you informed him, would help him clear his mind and begin the slow climb back to being a human again.
Also, you didn’t like the condition of his body.
You will be unavailable for the next two weeks but you reassured him again that he was NOT being forgotten and this was NOT punishment.
During those two weeks, you would leave him tasks to do and, if they were completed to your satisfaction, he would be rewarded both with more information on your plans for him and with a new way to express his gratitude to you.
Once he could read the books you left for him, retain the information and recite it for you when asked, the next stage of his training would begin.
You knew it would be difficult and that you were asking a lot, but you had faith he could do this. That he could trust you, endure and obey even when you could not be directly present.
If he did well, you would give him a gift to keep with him on top of the promised rewards.
If he caused trouble or failed, you would leave him on his own for a week, not as training but as punishment and extra chains would be added to his wrists and ankles so he could feel the weight of his failure.

He whimpered but you covered his eyes with your hand, kissed his lips and left.

With that sorted, you had some research to do.
You knew nothing of your mother, but from what you could gather, SHE had been the one you got the bloodline gift from though it had been your sire who shaped other you into a sociopath. She may have already been slightly mentally wobbly, considering she’d had no one to guide or train her. With her sire’s training and the rush of power the fledgling abilities brought, no wonder this body’s previous self went off the rails.
Having Mag… no, Maguns fall into her grasp sent her off on a complete power trip.
You can’t undo all the damage, but you can modify the ‘training’/ conditioning to be less toxic.

Oh… wow. And you thought the Sharingan activation requirements were bad.
In order to awaken/ make a contract with his most closely aligned spirit being/ beast little Mag needs to fall into darkness and despair and then be pulled out of it. Ahaha. Shit. That’s going to take some doing to engineer.

Two weeks later and her ‘beast’ was trembling with the eagerness to prove himself.
After permitting him to greet you in the way he’d been trained too, you ordered him to the bed, scanning him with ki and nodding with satisfaction.
He was recovering nicely and you could pull the addiction, for this drug anyway, from his system. He’d likely find something to replace it with but that should be okay… depending on the thing. Perhaps you should direct him towards something? You would have to see.

You ordered him to sit and share tea with you while you quizzed him.
He knelt on the floor at your side and leaned into your thigh as you caressed his hair. He ate from your hand and drank from your cup, trembling with the privilege as he’d never been permitted to do so before.
He showed clear understanding of the subject matter and so you shared your plans.

Even though you couldn’t see his face from this angle you could feel his trembling and whimpers as he nuzzled against you for comfort.

You told him that there is a person who has harmed you greatly, though they have left for a short time for now.
When you found him, you recognized him at once. You know he has a powerful bloodline and you were angry enough and desperate enough to snatch the prize that had fallen into your hand. He was meant to be your tool to make that person both back off and pay for what they had done to you.
You turn his face up so his eyes meet yours.
Unfortunately, you have never tamed anyone or anything before and you’ve made a lot of mistakes in doing it. This is not his fault. He has done NOTHING wrong. This is your mistake made through inexperience.
The week’s break was you taking the chance to sit down and think through all the conditioning and training you have put him through and what you actually want from him. What do you want from the final product you are raising him to be?
You have decided that, while you enjoy his dependence and submission because he is so very beautiful when he submits, you need him to be more than a whimpering, whipped beast.
Beasts can only attack and obey or perform tricks.
You want and need more from him than that.
You need him to be able to think and reason and plan. You need him to return to being human.
As it was your over enthusiasm that did this, you will take responsibility once more. You will help him rise back to being a human… as far as your current situation allows.
You had meant to use him as a tool, yes, but an overly honed tool will shatter and break and you were too strict and harsh with his conditioning.
Still stroking his hair, you feed him more tea and snacks and allow him to process.
You tell him, if he has questions, for this session he may ask without fear of punishment.

Hesitantly, he asks “Miss… miss Lyna will keep her beast though? She will keep Mag even if he isn’t what she wanted? Miss won’t throw Mag away?”

“No pet,” you assure him. “This was my fumbling that made you this way so, while retraining is in order, I will not throw you away. You aren’t unsalvageable. You are still my strong, obedient, beautiful beast. I will simply train you how to also be human again.
At the end of the training, if you do not remember by yourself, I will tell you exactly who you are and help you obtain your birthright.
Things will need to change though. I need you as healthy and stable as possible.
As such, I will occasionally bring or send others to assess and train you because, although I conditioned you to behave in certain ways, I know nothing of your natural talents. That was my oversight and I WILL fix it.
In the meantime, you have behaved yourself very well and I’m proud of you, my beautiful.
It will probably be another two week session but the reward, should you endure faithfully, is that I will listen to a single request of yours without punishment. I may not grant it, but I will listen.”

You placed a pair of your shoes on the table and told him that these were his present. He may do whatever he wished with them.
You permitted him to conduct the usual leave taking activities and left with the now unusual admonishment that this was training, not punishment and to endure, remain faithful and obey.
More books and a physical training manual or two will be left for him to study.
There will be some written instructions too, which will be interesting to see if he can obey.
They are simple things. Open his window, provided the weather is good, at a certain time every day. Keep himself clean and neat. Eat properly even when he doesn’t feel like it. Cooperate with his carers and obey and directions they give.
If he can do these, she will know how much progress he’s made and how much more is needed.
His world had been reduced to obedience, punishment and a very few rewards. It was time to see if he could expand it again successfully.

Meantime, you would be cautiously exploring both this new world and the social sceen.
Religion, it seems, was something only the poor did.
If you need somewhere to run, that had potential but you needed more information.
You also need a bit more knowledge on the local world set up and your own independent funds.
(And if you can get some. You know you virginity is likely reserved for your spouse… you will probably give it to the beast as a farewell/ graduation gift instead, but that doesn’t mean you can’t get you some pleasure in the meantime. Perhaps if you cultivate a maid or two and wipe their memory after… oooh, better yet, if you manipulate their dreams, you can have them ‘sleep walk’ and serve you. An abuse of authority for sure but eh… it’s not like it’ll do them any harm.)

In servant clothes, with long silver hair tucked under a kerchief and a spell to hide your ruby eyes, you hire a common cab through one of your connections and check out the temple in your local city.
You can’t hide your pale skin, it’s condition or your soft hands but a pair of rough gloves and a little dirt camouflage that.
It seems pretty standard and you make a note to go back in fully noble mode to see the reaction. They’re more likely to answer the questions of a generous noble too,
There appear to be several dieties but most of them have been forgotten. Only the one, a goddess of mercy and generosity, remains.
Okay.

The local city seems to be decently prosperous which is good.
You have money from household funds and a personal allowance to buy whatever you wish but it wouldn’t be enough to live off or safely run and set yourself up elsewhere.
Schooling and education seem to be up to the parents too and there is no provisions for the poor, outside the temple.
Hmmmm. No state schools at all. Only a bit of centralized training for the various orders of knights… well, that’s not entirely true. The temple runs a seminary course but she doesn’t have more details than that.
The Emperor's word is law… oh, that’s going to come back to bite. Especially if Magnus takes the throne.

You will have to train him up properly… and yourself as well.
If the diary is anything to go by, when he turns on you, he’ll want to dominate and destroy you completely. Turn about is fair play and all that.
Hmmm.
You aren’t sure you’re okay with that. Total control has never been your fetish.
(You wince and shudder. This particular servant, despite the lack of experience, seems to be very skilled at cunnilingas. You cum hard and the ‘sleep walking’ servant swallows it down and licks you clean before taking a warm wash cloth and cleaning you up properly.
This isn’t just indulgence. The more of your essence they take in, the easier they are to direct and control. Your sire - that thing is not a father- might be the technical master here but if you can bend them to YOUR will the damage he can inflict will be less. They might not be able to stop a beating or direct damage but a sleep walk and a door unlocked here, a bruise balm or a snack left there and your life will be much more bearable.

You also are studying hard. You need to know what you have to work with.
You’ve also made your visit as a noble woman and asked for seminary details.
Two years. You’d have to remain for two years.
That… could work. You’ll need more prep work for the lad but, hopefully, not too much more.
Another couple of months at most hopefully.

The sire is back and things in the main house are stifling.
You stay out as much as you can, returning late at night. You’re annoyed. This is cutting into your study time… but like hell are you staying home with that in the house.
You aren’t volunteering to be abused thanks.
Unless the sire directly orders it, you aren’t going anywhere near him.
You go to the cottage instead and study there.
You also begin physical training. That is better done out from under prying eyes and no one is here except your pet… and, if need be, you can put him out for the duration.
Would that you could do that to the sire, but you can’t be to blatant.

Fortunately, muscle memory still remains and, even if you don’t have exact memories, traces and instinctive responses also remain.
The hands know which cutlery to reach for at dinner.
The feet know the most common paths walked.
Allowing the body to do as usual has gotten you through at least a dozen incidences already and not just dealing with your pet.

Speaking of which, you visit him on the appointed day and he’s made amazing progress.
Another ki treatment to help him better metabolise the antidote and expel the drug and you may be able to speed the process again.
His retention of information and understanding are way up as well.

You let him get the greeting process, sans the weeping and whining and begging, out of the way. Those were just annoying at this point.
You told him those had been part of the overly harsh measure you had used to make him your beast. You would teach him new ones for becoming human once more and, as a reward for his progress, you gave him a new way to thank you. By kissing your hand when it was extended to him. An extended hand, palm down, meant he may come forward and nuzzle or kiss it.
Palm up meant you wanted his face in your hand and palm facing him, with your hand in a straight line meant stop what he was doing immediately.
A finger snap in his direction meant he was to leap into action to attend you.
His rewards for doing well and enduring were the removal of his heavy collar shackle and chain for a lighter version. One he could perform his physical exercises while in and the weight wouldn’t inhibit him to much.
For every right answer he gave you, you fed him a morsel of food from you own hand.
You had him sit while you ran your still pitiful but slowly growing amount of ki through his system and while he shivered he no longer flinched.
You kissed the back of his neck as a reward.
Finally, you stood and a finger snap had him in full kowtow at your feet.
You are ready to hear his request.

He shivers in fear and eagerness.
“If… if Miss Lyna cannot spend more time with this beast… can she please touch him more. Can she pet him and praise him? This beast does not want to be abandoned…”

You extend your foot to just under his nose and he eagerly kisses it daring to nuzzle.
“Kneel,” you tell him and he is quick to obey. “That, I can do and for being so reasonable with your request, I will grant you another reward. You will be the only beast, the only pet, I will ever tame and raise. There hasn’t been another before you and there will be no more after you. Do you understand? You are it.”

Tears stream down his face and wet your shoe as he bows again.

“Kneel,” you bark and he jumps and obeys. “I will let that one slide as your previous conditioning was harsh and thorough. From here on out though, you bow only in greeting or when ordered, do you understand?”

“Yes Miss Lyna,” he whimpered, eyes wide and teary.

“Good boy,” you praise and extend your hand.

He immediately seizes it gently and covers it with kisses. You use the other hand to wipe away his tears and cup his face. He nuzzles into it as usual, without releasing your other hand.

“On the bed,” you tell him and he scurries to obey.
You sit on the edge and pat your lap. Despite the elaborate and scratchy fabric of your dress he obediently lays his head in it, curling the rest of his body around you like a cat. It can’t possibly be comfortable but whatever.

You run your hands through his hair. Ki laced fingers trace his face and he sighs in bliss.
“You have done very well,” you tell him. “I am very proud of your progress. You have even kept up with the written instructions and that is very impressive.
Provided you continue to do well and obey instructions, I will allow you to request what sort of contact you would like from me. The time might vary depending on what sort and how much but we will work out rules and boundaries as we go.
Before your training is complete, I may even permit you to lie with me as a man to a woman. After all, we are working towards raising you to be human once more and human men may lie with women. I am your owner but I am also a woman and would much rather you have my first time than whomever I am matched with.”
He shivers and trembles. The idea is too far out of his thought range for now.
“Ah… too soon,” I lament. “We’ll return to that thought in the future. For now, put it out of your mind, concentrate on your training and studies and, of course, my orders.
I should be able to visit weekly but that is no excuse to allow your discipline to slide am I understood?”

A slight ‘pinch’ to his exposed ear with ki has him yelp, but still before murmuring, “Yes, Miss Lyna. This beast will obey.”

You tap his nose gently. “This MAN will obey,” you correct. “You might be a mere beast now, but we are raising you to become human again. If you can not manage that immediately, and I do want you to try, you may say ‘this ONE understands’. Am I understood?”

He shivered and trembled. “Y…yes Miss Lyna. This… this m…m…m… this one understands.”

“Good boy,” you praise, dropping a kiss to his forehead.
“Now, up with you. I will leave you with both books to study and written instructions. You will cooperate completely with the people I send, though, if they touch you outside of medical or training reasons, I wish to be informed. Your body is MINE and I alone will decide who gets to use it, if anyone does, an how. I do not like to share what is mine. I especially do not want someone touching without asking. That is very rude. Should anyone try it, you have leave to defend yourself, even to the point of killing… but ONLY in those conditions,” You gripped him firmly around the back of the neck, letting ki resonate through the collar to shock him.
“Am I understood?”

He pressed into your grip, despite the sting. “Yes, Miss Lyna.”

You changed the sting to a soothing flow. “Good man.”
You released his neck and were impressed when he managed to keep from collapsing.
Good fortitude this one, despite the damage done to him.

You go through the usual leave taking with him and give the usual admonishment. Training, not punishment. Endure, have faith, obey. You will not be abandoned.

Weeks slide by and his progress is rapid.
He has had to kill at least two of his trainers for getting handsy but you do not punish him for it. Instead, you make him write up and After Action Report so he can look back over the incident and see if that was an appropriate response.
In both cases, it was. The two were no loss.

He has become accustomed to your ki running through his body and to being unclothed around you. His body, you told him, is yours so you may look at it whenever, wherever you wish and do what you wish with it as well.
(That is mainly an excuse. Even though you clear you ki from his system after each session, impurities are still being pushed out. Sheets are easier to launder.
What you are actually doing is stabilizing his brain as best you can and minimizing the addiction, though you have yet to find something more healthy to channel it towards.
You intend to leave him a linking mark to, which will break if something happens to you and his body needs to be primed for that to take.)
Rather than cower, he seems to take pride in his body now, thinking it is worth something as you like and enjoy looking at it. You enjoy touching it to and, since he and his body are yours, he’s doing his very best to take care of it.
What a good pup.

His memories are coming back and his nightmares are natural now.
One of his rewards was you easing them for him… though he wasn’t told of that.
He is, quite obviously, touch starved since the only person to touch him has been you… or former you and her conditions for doing it were rather harsh.
Now he’s hungry for your touch any way he can get it and most of his requested rewards involve skin to skin contact.
Soon, the chain and collar are replaced with a symbolic choker with a hidden ring in the decorations. It’s a very fancy collar but he seems pleased with it.

He is becoming more and more lucid and responsive. More intelligent and cunning as well. He can easily intuit that you are training him for something. Something grand.
(You are but you aren’t. Former you damaged him heavily, made him completely reliant on her, made with her own power and control over him.
You can’t undo all of it, but you can blurr the worst memories of his ‘conditioning’ and patch some of the damage.
If he manages to escape, which the future diary seems to indicate he will, then he’s going to return to the palace where his father is dying. You don’t think he’ll have any issue removing his shit head older brothers… though you hope he’s smart about it.)
He is no longer a mere beast, just as you wished… but he is still your pet, your tool, a willing weapon in your hand for you to wield however you wish.
He will never be fully independent again… Okay, you need to set things up so he can find support and strength in other aside from you.
It won’t be hard to set up a subconscious prompt for him to run in the direction of whomever can help him best…
It’s the best you can do for him.

He likes it best when you run your ki through him. It’s one of his favourite rewards even if he doesn’t understand what is happening, he seems to have figured out that your energy is somehow going inside of him. His Miss Lyna is inside his body, possessing him completely.
Oh dear… you think you may have just given him his new obsession as there isn’t anyone else in this world who knows how to Cultivate.
Well fuck.
You’ll replace that memory with the feeling of healing energy running through him later.
There are healers scattered about as opposed to a single you who can Cultivate.
You have that doctor come back a couple of times and run his energy through your boy’s body.
He dislikes it as it isn’t you but the sensation is soothing enough.

Other than that, he likes having your hands on his body, not even in a sexual way.
He just likes you running your hands over his muscles, touching his face.
You’ve bathed him or brushed his hair a couple of times in the name of grooming and your touch still leaves him trembling.
You’ve taken him from his room a couple of times, with or without clothing and asked him to show you what he has learned, stepping behind him to correct him on a few points.
He knows not to leave it without permission but he is permitted to if he is escorted by one of your agents.
You want him to know how to care for himself if your sire manages to catch up to you.

When he became aroused and expected punishment, you told him that such a response is natural though he doesn’t have to act on it.
It is also something that is usually done in private, [though men often buy women or other men to entertain them for a short time. Men of power sometimes have a permanent partner or two, outside of their wives, called mistresses or concubines (those last can be male or female.) Their purpose is to sate their master when his wife can’t attend to him, or doesn’t wish too. Some of them might have other gifts but, since they belong to their master, those gifts are used to his benefit as well.] though, as his owner, normal rules are suspended.
You teach him how to handle himself without making a mess and that it will eventually go down if he ignores it and focuses on something else. Touching himself like that is natural but it still feels wrong to him if he doesn’t have permission.
That’s fine, you would prefer he focus his attention on training rather than pleasure.
He knows you have never been with another man… though you have overheard servants talking and read of it and how to manage it.
He enjoys your kisses and you learn how to kiss properly together.
Sometimes, if he has achieved a particularly high or hard goal, you will remove your gloves or dress and lie on the bed with him, holding him from behind whether he is clothed or not.
You have made certain he understands that these are rewards though, not typical behavior.

Physically, he’s coming along nicely.
You begin having him taught all the court manners bullshit he will need along with history, local area finances and politics.

And then, because things were going to well, you are cornered by your sire and his blow managed to catch you at the wrong angle, knocking you out but also leading to a ki explosion which backlashed to throw you both away from eachother.
You broke a leg and he an arm, while being knocked cold.

Your body is stronger but it still took you a couple of weeks to come back to yourself fully and your sire still isn’t quite sure what happened.
The accident has made him irritable though and he went back to the estate in the capital.

You send a message to your pet, informing him of outside circumstances that have kept you from being able to come.
You will have more books sent and he is to endure and continue his training until you can come once more.
You expect good results from him.

You remove your dress for him and show him the damage on your arrival so he can see it wasn’t just an excuse.
You can’t Cultivate either until the backlash fades, much to his disappointment.
You are annoyed about that too.
Both of you have to make due with a medicinal rub and you, as compensation for leaving him alone for two months, allowing him to apply and rub it in for you.
He is thrilled to be able to touch without punishment and trembles in his eagerness, cock at full mast but taking care of your needs first.

You return the favour and he cums unaided, simply with having you touch him.

He’s almost clear of the drug completely and his addictive behaviour was a bare whisper from what it could have been.

You spend the entire day with him putting him through his paces, but warn him that the next gap might be long again. You will be back once you can activate that energy again so it could be another month or it could be two.

It was a little over three weeks. Faster than you expected, but there is the feeling of time slipping through your fingers like sand and it has you on edge. The current Emperor is slipping closer and closer to death. That is important somehow.

With Cultivation back, you are able to hasten your own healing until you can hobble without support, which takes a little over a week.
Not too bad.

You pay your pet a surprise visit.
He is over joyed to see you.

Once his greeting is out of the way, you strip him quickly and run your ki through him, checking an then sighing in relief.
He is almost ready and you tell him as much.
You’d feared his compatibility might have slipped in your absence, but no, it’s fine.
You tell him you had been preparing his body for a special gift using your abilities. These are also telling you that you are running out of time.

You spend the day with him again, attempting to relax and take your time… but the urge to hurry is scrabbling at your throat and you can’t settle.
You assure your lad that it isn’t him. He has done nothing wrong… in fact, he’s been perfect. All he needs is a bit of socilising and he’ll easily be able to fit back in society but something has twigged your instincts and it’s niggling at you.
You don’t want to short him though. He deserves all the rewards for enduring through the separation and continuing with both the books you left and his training, even seeking out more and similar books when he was done.
You are very pleased that he is once again able to initiate action for himself, despite the early overly harsh training and conditioning.
He asks if there is anything he might be able to do to help you focus more on the here and now… and him.
There are a couple of ways but the quickest and dirtiest is physical pleasure. It tends to override other thoughts and force focus onto the sensations and you ask him if he’d like to try.
He would, very much, especially if it will help his Miss relax and focus on him more.
He’s a very fast learner and, apparently, likes your taste, able to coax three orgasims out of you inside of five minutes.
You can’t help but grind his face into your crotch and he goes willingly, his tongue deep inside of you and his eyes feasting on your pleasure twisted expression, even though he can’t see your eyes under the mask.
You pull him away and up to your face, kissing him hard, your taste and slick on his tongue extremely arousing.
That’s done it though. Your focus is fully on him and you’re able to settle.
You caress, pet and stroke, praises crooned into his ear as you do.
He’s so adorable.
You thank him for his efforts and reciprocate with a hand job.
He shivers, shudders and trembles, honoured and awed that you would be willing to touch him like that.
He’ll have to get used to it. With time running away from you and less time to make his body fully and properly receptive, the quick and dirty method of setting the seal tying the two of you together is sex. It will be doubly effective as you are both virgin and your ki has been flowing through his system regularly.
He needs to be both receptive to your mark and to agree of his own free will though.
You lie together, just holding him and slowly he calms down and relaxes.
He falls asleep in your arms and you allow it, slipping easily into his dreams but unseen and unheard. You spend the time exploring what memories have recently surfaced and blunting the ones of his harsher conditioning.

You know your sending mixed messages a bit. You are trying to set him up to awaken his powers but still survive independently but, at the same time, you don’t want to let him go.
You are still feeling possessive of him, even though he’s almost back to human again.
Your conflicted feelings over this has carried over to your treatment of him and you are rightfully ashamed of yourself… but you still want him.
This was never your kink but he submits so beautifully and eagerly. His teary face is adorable. His voice is sweet when he begs and he’s so quick and eager to serve… ahaha. This body must be having a stronger effect on you than you thought.
You need to get your priorities straight and set up the circumstances where he brakes loose and flees and then gets found by whomever can help him best.
It doesn’t mean you don’t want to ride him though. For a guy whose been kept inside for nearly three years, he’s beautifully built. You can tell he’s from noble stock just by looking at him. Graceful of hand, foot, face and form.
You just hope he can keep his mind after the break. An unstable Emperor will bring everything crashing down… which is probably what the original to take him wanted but YOU don’t. You are partial to stability and peace as it’s less troublesome to live in.

You tell him, if you can, you’ll be visiting weekly again because you feel that something is going to happen soon and you may not be able to visit for a long time later.
Even so, he is to remember, he has NOT been abandoned. You won’t throw him away. Not willingly anyway.
That has him worried, as it should. That was the while point of that sentence, to get that thought in his head.
You bring him the last of the books for his general education.
After these, he will be as prepared as books can make him and one of his rewards will be the ability to request the sort of books he wishes to read or study. (He already has a quill, ink and note paper and his notes are kept together in a neat box.)
Then, you will begin exploring his natural talents beginning with a series of questionnaire that he will not be punished for, no matter his answers. He’ll be allowed to be confused, to ask for clarification or more information or that he feels nothing on a subject either good or bad.
This is simply to pinpoint and begin focussing on and expanding his areas of interest or talent.
He’ll be trying a lot of new things.

Rather than allowing him to grovel and kiss your feet, you haul him to you and kiss him breathless before allowing him to drop.
Dazed, he nuzzles your ankles and kisses your feet and you leave without instructions or a backward glance.
You have a lot to do before your final visit.
One, maybe two more visits. Three at the most and you’ll both be ready.
This is going to hurt. You are used to having access to him but it can’t be helped.
That impending sense of doom is building and to dodge that rolling boulder, this NEEDS to happen… for both of your sakes.

At first, he is wary and confused by the new way of doing things but you make the point that you are trying to locate his natural talents to enhance them, since you accidentally smothered them during his conditioning. Should your beautiful pet, your little princeling, be at his best for you?
Phrased like that, he throws himself into it with a will. He begins to initiate request for books on certain subjects and teachers for these as his rewards and you permit him to leave his room for the duration of their lesson.
There is nothing that would allow him outside the cottage, not yet, but it will likely come in the future. After all, a prince in this land needs to know how to handle a sword.
Something difficult (as you have learned for yourself) indoors.
Dancing too will need to be practiced and that you can do together. Even you have to admit, you move well together.
He is becoming bolder with his reward requests and capable of more independent thought and action. Oh yes, he’s coming along nicely.

The arousal caused by your ki flowing through him is handled quickly and efficiently as you’ve taught him how to sixty nine so you can taste him without lowering yourself.
Soon. Soon.
He understands that this pleasure sharing is needed to bring your bodies more closely in synch.
He also feels, rightly, that after the mark is set, you may not return but hasn’t bought it up.
You sooth those worries from his conscious mind as your ki in his body make it easier for you to enter his mind and manipulate things.
You are setting up a cascade effect. You can’t leave it to chance. It’s cruel but you need him in play, not holed up in this cottage and you’ve already blunted the original conditions that would have set him off.
The first will be the breaking of the mark that ties the two of you. You aren’t sure how that will come about but you know it will. You plan to tie any hold you ever had over him or his mind to that mark. When it breaks, all links to him will also be broken. He will be completely a free agent once more and you won’t be able to enter his mind or dreams again unless he invites it.
(You MAY be able to run ki through him… but only if he allows you to do so. It’s a dangerous gamble but taking him was foolish, dangerous and desperate in the first place. The previous you wasn’t expecting to live. She just wanted to escape one way or another and didn’t care who got caught in the fall out.)
As only death or a memory wipe/ extreme personality change will trigger it, the second trigger will be tied to that.
It will be a letter explaining all you have done, why you did it and potentially what will come next.
That, along with the knowledge that the cottage will be burned to the ground if you don’t respond for three months, and anything inside with it, should tip him enough to send him howling into the night.

(You, of course, plan to have the books removed back to the family library before hand, but everything of the place where he was kept needs to disappear.)

That should be enough to trigger the darkness and despair needed to activate his contract with a family line beast. You suspect his will be of darkness.

He is enjoying exploring his potential abilities and you are getting a sort of vicarious enjoyment out of his enjoyment and learning a few things about yourself too. A noblewoman is very restricted in what is considered appropriate for her to do after all and, with only his eyes on you, it doesn’t matter.
The pleasure sharing sessions are becoming more intense too.
You only need one more session for things to be set up properly.
Where before he was conditioned with deprivation, mental manipulation and torture, this time he’s being trained with pleasure and responds far more eagerly.
He backslides and is still punished from time to time, but the punishments are far lighter and are more withholding of privileges, not being able to touch you or a nightmare or two.
Knowing he WILL still be punished where appropriate are enough to settle him and bring him to heel. (Ah, it’s so HARD behaving yourself. You want to see more of his submission. His crying face, his sweet begging voice. He’d look so beautiful in a muzzle and harness and cock cage, spread wide for you to appreciate properly… sigh. Not the time and the place and you REALLY hate this body’s tastes and urges. If not for the time period and her manufactured sociopathy, she could have made an excellent living as a dominatrix… even a Mistress with several devoted pets/ slaves of her own…)

You take him outside for the first time as the joining will be intense and you don’t want to blow up the house.
The clearing nearby has been prepared and purified.
You will paint the design onto him with infused, specially created ink that will be reacted and sink into him when activated while yours will be purely a ki marking created through the energy of your joining.
Specially prepared food and saki equivalent (that was a BITCH to get your hands on and cost a fortune but eh) will be consumed in a ritual fashion. This is a form of pseudo marriage… not that you’ve told him that, combined with a form of master/ vassel bond.
When it breaks, it’s going to hit you both hard.
Your actual joining comes in a torrent of power and purpose and you both pass out from it, overloaded.

As you are more tolerant, you wake up first with him still inside of you, roll him over and begin to coax him to a full erection.
Fucking yourself on his cock is probably a terrible idea since your body is highly receptive right now but you’re seventeen, hornie and he’s yours. You WANT this and you’re going to have it and him in as many ways as you can before he wakes up and you have to stop.
The ki still tracing his system has given him a very fast recovery time and you ride him to completion several times before he begins to stir.
With that, the blood of your joining still staining your thighs, you lie down slumped over his chest as though still unconscious.
He twitches inside of you and then jerks awake, you ‘rousing’ and sitting up as though confused which drives his cock deeper into you.
You both still.
You ‘involuntarily’ squeeze and he thrusts on instinct.
Before you know it, he’s flipped you over and you’re fucking nearly violently, your legs tight around his waist and your head thrown back as he lavishes your breasts and neck with attention. He keeps fucking you through your orgasim and then his, then panting, sits up but he’s hard again and sits up. Your knees come to bracket his as he presses down on your rear to keep you as close to him as he can.
He rolls his hips and you keen in pleasure.
It takes an hour or two for the ki and ritual based energy to ware off and, by then, you’re both fucked out and exhausted.
His eyes had been blindfolded for the ritual as he’s never seen your face in full.
You wore a bandana style mask… but with your hair and eyes, you don’t he’ll have any issue finding you. They’re pretty distinctive. Still, a token effort must be made.
When the frenzy burns out, you both stagger back to the cottage and fall asleep on his bed.

He is mortified and horribly apologetic when he awakens and has cleaned you and himself thoroughly. He can see and feel the mark of your bond though and is as honoured and awed as he is afraid of your reaction.
You laugh and call him to you. You kiss his forehead and stroke his face, telling him it was a side effect of the bond. You hadn’t expected it to be quiet THAT powerful but it simply proves his own high quality.
You promise that nothing is likely to come from this, as most of the energy was channeled into forming the bond, but you probably won’t be able to join together in future as your bodies are now aligned and it would be very easy for you to fall pregnant to him.
You will touch and hold him, but the sexual activities and running your ki through him were purely to prime his body for this, so that if you need to run for some reason, he can know that he hasn’t been abandoned, you’re still alive and well and settle his mind.
He won’t be able to use any of your abilities or you his, but he will be able to feel your presence.
He cries all over you and you reward this with a chaste kiss.
He is disheartened when you tell him you probably won’t be around as often but it isn’t punishment. You have let some things slide preparing for this and now that he can feel you so he won’t panic, you need to get back on top of them.
You stroke his face, kiss his forehead and rise. You are stiff and sore from you vigorous physical activities but it’s fine. You expect that much. A hot bath and some ki directed to that area should do it.
Now that you have a tie, he doesn’t need to fawn for you to receive your attention. He just needs to lean on the bond to know that you are there and you won’t leave him willingly.
He insists on giving you a proper fare well anyway, kneeling to kiss your feet and nuzzle at your ankles, kissing your hand and holding it to his cheek.
Ah… why does he have to be so adorably submissive and beautiful? Why?
Still, you hold yourself in check and instruct him to continue with exploring his own talents and abilities. You want a list of things he’d like to try for your next meeting.
With a ruffle of his hair, you leave him to clean up and defuse and residue energy in the ritual site. It wouldn’t do to draw further attention to the place.

You are sore and tired by the time you’re done but it was fine.
You are relieved the set up is done.
In the next year or two, you pet prince is going to snap and run. Likely due to something to do with you… and you hate that. You hate having to clean up after other peoples messes or being dumped in the drink with no prep work but it can’t be helped.
Even if you regret the circumstances you couldn’t regret working with and helping reshape you princely pet. Your heart clenched again. Ah, damn. You’re really going to miss him… up until you don’t.
Sigh.

Should you do it. It’s a risk and a gamble and probably really stupid but… you could use the energy raised to lock your body to him. To ensure only he could ever get you pregnant and to freeze you systems so they wouldn’t work again without him… It would need ki to unlock and, if the Seal breaks, that would break with it. The chance you could fall pregnant then is small. It would need his seed as well but…
You decide, instead, to prime your body so that it will fall pregnant to him easily but can still be used by another if you’re matched to someone. It will take time and effort though. Even if the Seal shatters, your bodies are still aligned.

You get one more visit with your boy when the crunch comes in the form of your very curious, very angry father arriving home and you run!
You’ve had a go bag ready since you learned of his taste in ‘discipline’.
The timing is pretty great too. The new term start in three days.
Your boy has two letters. One to open if he hasn’t heard or been visit from you in three months and the second if for if the Seal breaks. The first is being counted from the last time he saw you and you left with the usual admonishment and instructions. This is not a punishment. You are not being abandoned. I will never willingly leave you.
(You wander if he noticed that you’d left out the ‘This is training. Endure, be patient and wait and you will be rewarded. He probably did, but he’s still to conditioned to question with out explicit permission and assurance of a lack of punishment for doing so.)
You don’t attempt to communicate with him but word is still slipped to you of his progress and you are glad he’s keeping up with training and the like.

He was getting anxious. It had been a day or two past the three month mark without any sign or visit from his Miss.
Cautiously, he picked up the first letter and opened it.
“My sweet pet,” he read. “If you are reading this, things have gone awry and I’ve had to run. Long and short, I literally can’t come to see you.
Let me just say this again. THIS IS NOT PUNISHMENT. YOU have done nothing wrong. This is just extremely unfortunate circumstances. I will be in my current location for two years and unable to leave. It’s why I chose it.
It’s a place that normally wouldn’t be visited at all by a noble, but for now, this is the safest place I can find.
I have some instructions for you that will be exceedingly difficult to manage, especially with the mess I made of your early training and conditioning.
If the situation develops further in a negative direction, you may even have to leave the cottage.
Pause. Take a deep breath to center yourself and come back to this thought when you are calmer. Do whatever you need to to accomplish that.
I know. This is HUGE but if things slide further, it might be necessary.
I’m leaving you a list of tasks that should help you prepare if this eventuality comes to pass.
I know. It’s terrifying and horrible and you don’t want to think about it because it goes against EVERYTHING you have been taught.
This Miss is sorry. If he was stronger and able to better protect myself, it wouldn’t have come to this… but, as it is. I intended you to be a sword in my hand as well as my faithful pet.
I need you human.
I know this is rushing things and I HATE doing haphazard work so I am giving you this now so that you can adjust to the idea little by little. Keep poking at it, brushing your mind over the idea until it’s no longer so overwhelming and terrifying.
I KNOW you are strong enough to do this. My pet is NOT weak, nor is he stupid.
Even though it might be a long time until I can see you again Pet, don’t forget, you can feel me. You can lean on that. You haven’t been abandoned or discarded and I won’t do that. You are MY pet. Mine. Even free of the cottage, don’t you ever forget that my beautiful, obedient, patient, talented Pet.
Perhaps, one day, if this Miss cannot come to you, you will be able to go to her instead…

This was followed by a list of instructions that even he could tell were meant to acclimatise him to leaving his room, moving through the cottage, using the various funishing and even going outside briefly.
Miss said he could take his time on this and that it wasn’t urgent. He didn’t need to push himself. It was simply a precaution.
Now that Miss had given him new instructions outside of learn his talents, he’d work hard so that she would reward him on her return.
(He couldn’t even contemplate going to meet her. No, no, that was far to presumptious a thing to do for a Pet, even one that was also a human.)

Two months after that, just as he felt he was making solid progress, he was jerked awake by an agony so vast it swallowed him whole, rang through him and clenched his body in it’s grasp.
He fell to the floor, thrashing feebly and it was three days before he awakened again, his body a stinking mess as he’d voided himself, thrown up, frothed AND leaked blood.
He felt like he’d be thrashed hard enough that he might die of it.

It was another week before he recovered fully and then, to his shock and horror, he realised that the comforting bond he had with Miss Lyra was absent. Not just absent but gone to the point where even he could tell by the void left it was shattered and broken beyond any point of recovery. He frozen up, turning near catatonic in shock.

It was another two days before he snapped back to himself and with reluctant, trembling hands, opened the black envelope.

“My Dearest Princely Pet,” the letter began. “Yes, if you haven’t remembered for yourself yet, you are indeed a Prince, if not an overly valued one.
That to the side.
If you’re reading this, one of two things has happened.
The first is that I’ve died and I’ll tell you now, you have three months from the time I cease to communicate with those I had caring for you to get out of the cottage since it, and anything in it, will be having an accident where it burns to the ground.
Also, I appologise that you will never be able to have your vengeance.
The second option is that I have had to pull on our bond through the Seal in order to defend myself from a life threatening situation.
As a noblewoman, I have no training to defend myself from physical threat and, with my body weakened by my sires idea of discipline, I am even less able.
I had originally intended for you to be my weapon but my own desires clouded my judgement and I was too harsh with you, turning you into a my beast instead. I wanted to bind you closer to me so you would never think of turning on me, but I went too far. I let my own frustrations and fear out on you…
For that, I am sorry.
But, I am NOT sorry I picked you up. Never that.
Back to the point, if/when you meet me again, the shattering of our bond will have broken my mind as well. Depending on how deeply I was forced to draw on it, will be the depth of the damage we both carry.
(It’s fixable on your end, or it least it should be. If you find the right people, and you’ll hopefully know them when you meet them, they can help you heal and become stronger. On my end… We’ll have to wait and see.)
You will feel a void where the bond was and possibly a rising urge to find those who can support your heart enough to help you heal.
I, depending on how hard I had to pull (the harder and deeper the pull, the greater the damage) will suffer memory loss. If it’s bad enough, I might be wiped completely, with nothing remaining of my current personality.
General knowledge may or may not be okay, but the strongest memories are the first to be sacrificed in the name of survival. I can only guess that these would be you and my sire.
I… don’t regret losing memories of my sire. The way he treated and ‘taught’ me, my body would instinctively shake with wild animal terror when near him or in his presence.
You though. You my beautiful princely pet. You I did NOT want to lose… but I didn’t want to die either and if it was one or the other, I wanted to live.
There was a chance that I would be able to find you again, or you me, but I need to be alive for that to happen. And, so do you.
I know what I’ve done to you can never be forgiven and I won’t ask you too… but, if you choose to go after and claim my shell, please be gentle when you break her. She will likely be an innocent without even the knowledge that she has a bloodline gift or any idea how to use it.
She’s going to be so confused, poor dear.
The other reason I have prepared this letter, just in case, was because I have something else as well. I do not know if it’s a part of my bloodline or from something else completely, but sometimes it get nudges or flashes. Often my unconscious mind is working on a thing before my conscious mind is aware of it.
I think this is what happened with you.
I indulged myself until something ‘shook me awake’ and told me to prepare.
You have probably noticed that your retraining was erratic in places, even if you didn’t question.
That was my conscious mind trying to resist what my unconscious was telling it.
My conscious mind wanted to keep you even if you were meant to be a tool originally. Why wouldn’t I? You were beautiful and obedient and loyal and talented and clever and, most importantly, MINE. That you were a prince with a bloodline was just a bonus really.
(Yes, you have one of those. I’m not sure how it’s awakened though. I think the conditions are pretty extreme. Perhaps I was trying to prime you to awaken that? I’m not sure.)
I devoted so much time and energy and money on you. Why would I want to let you go?
So, I tried to ignore the rocks my unconscious was throwing at me in the way of hints… but I couldn’t. Not forever.
That unsettled feeling you had to pleasure me out of? That was my unconscious getting more aggressive about things.
Even though I wanted so badly to keep you and watch what you would become, I KNEW I would lose you… somehow.
I didn’t know how or why or what would take you from me but I knew something would…
I never wanted that… but I couldn’t stop it either. I’m sorry for that.
A few last things you should know. As with my death. Three months after I stop communicating with my people, the cottage will be burned to the ground.
You with it, if you remain. I won’t let this place stain her chance at a fresh start.
Please, don’t remain.
Practice my previous orders more vigorously. Find yourself something you can use as a weapon. Pack your supplies and create a travel pack. Don’t just run screaming into the night.
I’ve done my best to prepare you for this.
Reluctantly, and completely against my will, I release you Magnus, third prince of this kingdom.
Please, live as well and strongly as you can.
Your former Miss, Lyra.

He did NOT take it well.
This second bout of shock and catatonia lost him another two weeks and when he snapped back, he noticed some things in the cottage were missing.
All the books were gone, and some of the nicer furniture too.

Shit. How much time did he have left?
How much had he lost.
He was getting panicky and he no longer had the bond to lean on for comfort.
Afraid he FORCED himself to go through the excercises in Miss Lyra’s last set of orders, FORCING himself to spend more and more time outside and to go further even though it left him shaky and trembling to do it.
All he wanted to do was hurry back to his room and his bed and put his chain back on so he could pretend his Miss was going to come back and things would make sense again but he couldn’t. With each week, the cottage became emptier… until all that was left was the stuff in his room… and that started disappearing too.
They were already beginning not to supply him with food.
One night, he couldn’t take it anymore, packed up what he had left in the pillow case, grabbed the staff that had been one of the weapons he’d practiced with, emptied anything remaining that he cared about (the shoes his Miss had gifted him with included) and defied his last order to him by fleeing into the night… even if he wasn’t screaming aloud.

He wasn’t in good condition when he was picked up by the doctor and his apprentice, but they were good people and helped him recover until he could return to the royal family.
He’d had to sell the jewels from the shoes the Miss had gifted him, even if he kept the shoes themselves. It, and a lock of her hair, was all he had of his Miss now.

(He heard in passing that the young Miss of a noble family had done something very strange. She’d joined seminary classes for the priesthood of the church. AND she’d suffered an accident near where a priest was KILLED. She’d been sick for nearly two months afterwards and awakened with her memories scrambled or simply gone.
They’d allowed her to stay on and finish classes as she was a bidable, studious girl and her friend was willing to help her put in the extra work needed to finish a month or two late.
She would return to her family estate after, but her father was made aware of the accident and it’s aftermath.)

Information learned in passing had him heading for the Estate. His ‘Miss Lyra’ was infact Ilyana of house Glayne, a Marquess to be once her father passed on.
Her father was very important person in the empire… but known to be very cold.
He wasn’t sure why he was going there. His Miss was GONE… and even her shell wouldn’t be there, still in her study course.
Only that the urge to do so was strong. Last time, it had led him to the doctor and his new best female friend.
This was so risky but he NEEDED this…

He bribed a manservent to get into the house and maid to get into her room.
Not as lavish as he’d expected.
There was something strange about her desk, like his eyes were being forced away from it.
Very suspicious.
Rather than trust his eyes, he went to the desk, closed them and felt around, finding a small book. On opening his eyes, he found it was a small personal journal or diary.
He opened it and the words swam, his void wound aching gently as he persisted trying to read it. He could only make out a couple… but it was enough.

So… I know it’s probably REALLY stupid to do something like this but i need vent that’s not some poor, broken kid that’s been conditioned to all hell and gone…
Here goes.
Urrrg… Okay. What the actual hell?
I apparently have a heavily conditioned, nearly completely broken pet… What was this bitch DOING. Did she even have a plan or did she just want a vent?
I don’t know… infact. I’m not sure I WANT to know.

Okay. She had plans. Bloody hell, did she ever have plans.
Semi suicidal plans but still, plans.
How did she KNOW of this stuff? Seriously.
I mean I get prompts and nudges, but that’s due to all my accumulated experience!
How did a sheltered, if heavily abused and sociopathic, noble Miss learn this sort of thing?!
More importantly, what triggered pulling ME in?
From what I could pick up, things are going to be a MESS.
Dammit! I HATE being left holding the bag and I REALLY hate having to clean up messes I had no part in making!
Worse yet, even if I manage to straighten out the kinks forcibly workied into him, that boy will never be able to complete his revenge and I will be the one to catch it in the neck.
FUCK. HER.
No seriously. I want to wade through whatever afterlife this place has, find her and introduce her nose to my knee!
FUCK!
Okay. Okay. Less ranting, more planning.
How do I make this something less of the building clusterfuck I’m faced with now?
There’s GOT to be a way!

So, THAT came about due to an artifact Stupid Bitch was fooling with. I’m not quite sure what it did but using it shattered her soul I think. A worthy fate for one so arrogant and stupid as to disregard the warnings that came with it.
Where that artifact is now? Not a blessed clue. Maybe it doesn’t exist anymore.
How I got pulled in I have even less idea about. Perhaps I was part of the original soul and got kicked awake when Stupid Bitch shattered?
Life (heh) of a Serial Reincarnator I suppose.
I still don’t get what she was thinking though. Did she HONESTLY believe there would be no fall out for this? Was she truely THAT arrogant?
Possibly she did. Look what she did to that poor kid. If I wasn’t here to step in, with what she’s done to him, I don’t think he’d survive and that’d be a damn shame.
Of all the fucking arrogance to reduce a PRINCE to that…
Seriously, I know there was something wrong with her head but this beyond stupid.
I may not be an expert on BDSM in all it’s forms and connitations, but I’ve helped heal and raise up my share of fucked up and fucked over people.
Comes from being one myself.
I wouldn’t put getting landed with a very pretty, princely pet on the level of becoming a splat on the bottom of a demon’s weapon but it was very disconcerting…
I’ll do my best for him though. I want to raise him up from what she’s done to him. I want to watch him grow and bloom and develop. He’s going to be someone, I can feel it and not just because of his lineage.
Damn that bitch. She could have nurtured this. Instead, she choose to break him down to nothing instead. Just how insecure was she to use this method instead of a kinder one…
Then again, it’s not like she’s had any real examples of that.
Sigh.
What a mess.

Ah… her taste is effecting mine and this pet is gorgeous. I don’t really WANT to give him up. Not just his submission, or teary face, or whimpering. That was HER kink and now that I can think straight again, I WANT to rebuild this beautiful boy back up from the whimpering dog she’s made of him.
That she’d dare to do that to a prince, even if he was a lesser valued third prince, is inconsionbable. The audacity, or perhaps, lack of care of the consequences, of that bitch.
Not only am I left cleaning up after her but I’ve got the unenviable task of trying to rebuild this pet back into a person. I don’t know how successful I’ll be. She fucked him over pretty good.
I’m going to TRY though. He’s got SO much potential that she practically wiped so she could have her whimpering, conditioned-to-be-loyal, weapon/pet.
I can’t just cut him loose either. Not in his condition. If I want to live through this, I need to make sure that any break that might happen is NOT my fault.
I… have no idea how to do that but i don’t WANT a fucking bad end.
The sire of this lady might be an abusive sociopath himself, but there’s potential here. If I do it right I might even be able to have a good life…
Haha. I’m not holding my breath.
This whole situation is just a powder keg shit show just waiting to explode.
All over me, likely.
Still, if you don’t count the abusive sire, my sheduled fuck over is still in the works and due to hit.
Likely through the pretty, pretty princely pet.
Sigh.

I’ve done my best for him.
I don’t know why I’m getting nudges but something is coming and soon.
Probably my the first part of my scheduled fuck over.
Putting the ki seal on us both is a bit of an extreme step but it fells… right. This is the right move to make.
How much of that is me though and how much of it is the Plot ™ giving me a shove in the ‘right’ direction? I don’t know this novel, game, manhwa whatever.
I’ve only got THAT to go by and I’ve taken what measures I can to ensure things deviate enough that we don’t both end up with a Bad End.
He doesn’t deserve it. Miss bitch does but I don’t… and fuck catching her fall out if I can dodge.
I’m never going to be able to shake his pretty highness. Outside of mindwipe, the conditioning she put him through was extreme and she’s done her best to make sure she’s left an unforgettable mark… no, SCAR, on his soul.
Power mad bitch.
Not that I’m any better. The Seal, if I ever need to pull on it to the point it breaks, is going to scar both of us but it’s a risk that I have to take.
I’ve got nothing but my name to defend me. Not even money since most of it’s the sires. Even with picking knife training back up, I don’t know if it’ll be enough…
I HATE this.

I know, if I survie whatever’s coming and the little prince does, he’s going to come for me.
That’s pretty much inevitable at this point. I’m too deeply ingrained for him to leave loose and with my abilities… well, I’d be a liability. That sort of thing is not something he can leave out of his control.
I get that. I do… haaaa. I wanted to enjoy myself a little first but eh, there are worse fates.
If I regain or retain any portion of my memories, I will bend my neck gracefully.
I owe him so much more than that, but it’s all I can give really.
A truely shitty compensation, considering the originator is out of his grasp, but what more can I do? I didn’t start this but I DID choose to continue it, even if I had his welfare in mind…
I doubt he’s going to see it that way and yeah, fair enough.
If I’m forced to use the Seal, it’ll probably shatter my meridians and I’ll lose the ability outright… but at least I’ll be alive and, hopefully, so will my princely pet.
The intuition is experience based so, will I even have that with a full memory wipe? I guess we’ll see, though it’s a pity I won’t remember it’s a thing to test it out.

Okay… so, we’re running. The sire is back and he’s PISSED.
I’m hoping the mark and bond won’t need to be used but I have the building feeling it will be.
I hope by doing this, I can avoid some of the worse of it… but I fear I won’t be enough.
Leaving this diary here to hopefully help trigger my memories if I do need to use the seal link is a MAJOR risk… not because someone might find and read it since its geared so only those with active ki in their system can, but because the future me might not have enough memories, knowledge or control of my abilities to even LOOK. It will depend on the damage if the memories are completely gone or simply buried deep.
Will I even have access to ki after? Shit. Well, I have nothing else to use either way.
Sigh.
Perhaps I should leave it out rather than tuck it in a draw?
That also feels risky but I won’t know how reduced I will be until after.
Yes, I’ll leave it here.
A mild aversion field should be enough that no one will find or touch it but future me can still find it… I hope.
This is a gamble and I hate it but I think it might be one of those unavoidable things…
Haaaaa. This SUCKS!
Well, goodbye, possibly forever.
(Oh deities, that sounds so melodramatic! Seriously, what am I, thirteen?)

The young prince closed the diary.
So, he’d had two Misses and both of them had the same body.
From the sound of it, the first Miss who he’d loved and hated with equal fervor, was gone. Whether she was dead or locked deep inside the other woman, she was beyond his reach.
The second had lied… but she had genuinely tried to help him. To raise him back to being a human after the first had reduced him to a whimpering beast.
He felt rage and the black despair of the thwated.
No matter what he did now, he would NEVER be able to make that woman pay. NEVER be able to have her, break her, own her and then, if he wished, discard her or breed her.
The second may have used him… but she also had tried to do right by him and, if this diary and her letter where anything to go by, the current version of her was an innocent with no knowledge of him, what had been done to him or what she’d done to help raise him again.
There was a chance that the second woman’s memories were merely locked away but again the RAGE and despair rose.
He’d take the shell, he would and see if he couldn’t coax her memories back but, if not, breaking and binding the shell to him. Act as her mentor and guide in using her abilities so he could use her for his purposes seemed a fair turn around and, if he could have her kneeling before him, choking on his cock, or writhing on it or simply begging for it, that would just be a nice bonus.
The hinted at ‘predictive diary’ was also a strong incentive to keep her by his side even without the rest.
He would have her, however he could.
In the meantime, he had some princes to hunt and the cause of whatever pushed her into triggering the Seal to track down.
He might not be able to have his revenge on That Woman… but the rest of them? Oh yes, that he could do.
He was going to shake things up around here.

The diary was slipped into his pocket.
He would use it as part of the process of breaking her. It was a precious resource that couldn’t be left to the ingenue she currently was.
First, he would go and claim what was his, using his intelligence and cunning, as the human his Miss had wanted him to become. Then, when he was properly set up, he would snare his prey and tangle her in his grasp so thoroughly she’d never escape him.
Her sire wasn’t so old that he couldn’t breed again so there was no reason he couldn’t take her for himself. She was his, as much as he had been (and in some ways, always would be) hers.

Disposing of his ‘brothers’ was easy. His bloodline had awakened alright. Apparently, he needed despair, rage and darkness to make a contract with such a beast… and that Miss both first and second, had given him that in wagon loads… even if Second had tried to ease his introduction as best she could.
He wanted to have that one writhing under him, driven mad by pleasure. Even if she didn’t remember, her body would and he KNEW all of her pleasure spots.
The hunt excited him now and, watching as his beast partner chased those fools over the very cliff they’d driven him from… ah, that was satisfying.
The beast was only permitted to devour one though he didn’t mind if the other was chewed on a bit. He KNEW how to work trauma and the second, while still alive, was both down a couple of limbs and a gibbering wreck.
He’d dallied with the idea of playing hero but… such didn’t suit him.
It was better if he was seen elsewhere and nowhere near their ‘accident’.
With no other choice, the ailing Emperor wouldn’t have a choice but to put him on the throne and put him on the throne he did.
Now, to get that bunny.

She looked so pure at the ball. So inexperienced and nervous, though she was keeping the noble ‘stone face’ well enough.
Perhaps the relationship with ‘the sire’ had improved because she was sticking very close to him. Fortunately, he’d been able to cultivate a more circumspect minion or two.
Those books about politics, strategies and ruling his Miss had had him study were turning out to be surprisingly useful.
So was the idea of cultivating talent, no matter it’s source, even if it got the nobles up in arms.
One of them offered the lady a dance and then a drink.
She would be drawn to a side hall where he could meet her ‘coincidentally’.
He didn’t have to rush this. Slowly, he’d draw her in until he was her world and all she could think about.
Any child she bore him would be in the care of servants though he would monitor their progress.
It would be interesting to see who they’d take after… and he couldn’t wait to drive into her body.
Make her moan for him, teach her the ways he liked it best and drive her to the edge of sanity through thwarted pleasure until she passed out from the overload.
He’d fill her again and again until she caught and then fill her more because he could.

It seemed the leader of the Storm Knights had a contract too.
He’d studied up on the groups thoroughly, because that is what a human would do and what his Miss had pushed him to do while retraining him.
Due to the Oath and Covenent of the first Emperor, those guys could work independently of him until he got THEIR oath. He needed to get them on side before he could claim his bunny.
They knew her bloodline and it would be extremely suspicious if he displayed how very possessive of her he was.

The moment the girl met him, she almost keeled over, going very pale and staggering.
It took her a good ten minutes to recover and she appolgised prettily say that, ever since the incident that had caused her amnesia, she would sometimes get flashes that would flood her mind when she met a person she was familiar with before it.
It happened with her father and her personal maid… why it was happening with his majesty too, she didn’t know.
It also happened with people who looked similar to others she had known, so she thought it might possibly be that because there was no way she could have met his majesty before…
These incidences were little more than static images with no context or order to them. They made her head split with pain though and the first couple of times, she’d passed out, bleeding from her nose.
It had worried her father greatly.
With that excuse, he bought his commoner born but raised to nobility comrade to examine her.

According to her, the damage to the miss was still healing but the inccidents of memory rush were actually harming her more… and she was far to thin.
This girl needed to be under the care of a specialist, asap.
Any man would be alarmed when if a girl he just met spouted blood and passed out on him.
She was taken to a side room to rest and her father contacted and given the news.
The Emperor hinted that he might want to make arrangements for another heir. This young woman was quite delicate due to being starved during her childhood and would quite likely die in childbirth along with the damage taken in whatever had wiped her mind.
The Marquess was angry and upset and eager to get his daughter home when the Emperor suggested that she remain overnight and his physician attend her.
They would put together a treatment plan for her so she could heal as best she could.

Her father couldn’t disagree. His ‘training’ was part of the issues she was having with her health now and he knew it.

After a month, word came the Emperor had become fond of the girl.

The girl bolted awake, panting. So, she had an ability to visit people in their dreams? And possibly control them. She was thankful to that person for showing her the way out, but this seemed like something his Majesty should know. If she was the person who he was looking for so desperately, the one who had likely harmed him, he probably already knew but he might know how to keep her from doing it by accident.
All she’d done was swat at the stream /thread of red light in her face and she was in that persons very bleak and desolate dream.
She explained to that person that she’d suffered an accident and had no memories past a few years ago and hadn’t even known something like this was possible.
It seems like a rude and dangerous ability and now she knew that swatting at those light thread/strings brought her into people’s dreams, she’d refrain.
She would ask his Majesty about it and what he wanted her to do.
She would much prefer such a dangerous ability be under the direction of someone in authority. She simply didn’t know enough to keep from getting herself into trouble either by overhearing something she shouldn’t or doing what she’d done now and stumbling into the dream of someone dangerous.
The man told her he’d be willing to allow her to live if she’d swear to it.
He seems surprised when she agrees, immediately though he has to coax her through the wording of a binding oath.
Hopefully, his Majesty wouldn’t be to angry.

In the morning she sent a missive to his Majesty, informing him of the situation and how it was resolved. He sent one back ordering her not to practice with it until he gave her leave.
She had NO issue with that… at all.
It was actually reassuring to be able to hand the control for using such a dangerous ability over to someone else.

His Majesty began exerting control over her surroundings, her behavior and who she could communicate with. Even when she could use her senses and eyes, but she didn’t resist, going along with whatever he wished as gracefully as she could. At least he wasn’t starving her or hurting her even if things were a little boring.

She said to him point blank, “I think I must look very much like that person who harmed his Majesty. Or, I may even be her. Perhaps his Majesty hopes that the memories I have lost return so he can have a proper revenge, if I am she. I wouldn’t deny him that. Besides, I’m a loyal noble of this Empire. His majesty has every right to do with us he wishes. Headaches and memory bursts, his control over me and my ability, whatever else he wants from me. It’s all fine.
If it gives him some pleasure or satisfaction, I’m fine with it.”
That drew looks, even from his Majesty.
“Innocent and ignorant, not an idiot gentlemen. It wasn’t hard to figure out that I had been singled out. It was just a matter of figuring out why.”

It soon became clear that it was unlikely she would ever regain her full memory but he found himself enjoying the company of her anyway. She wasn’t his Miss Lyna but she was loyal and fierce and funny and nice to hold.
He would make her his Empress, lie with her and put children into her. He would make her completely reliant on him the way he had once been on her, make her lost without him.
He wouldn’t break her though. This version of her. This ‘shell’ wouldn’t need it. A little molding and tweaking and he could have her in every way.
He might wish vengeance on the first, that he could possess the second the way she had him but this one, this third, he could and would have completely. He thought he could come to love her, even if she wore ‘Miss Lyna’s’ face.

(And her diary had been right. There was no trace of that power, the ‘ki’ in her anymore.
He had written out the words he could read from her diary as that power would probably leave him as well and he’d no longer be able to see it, let alone read it.
Those diary entries were burned into his mind… and he would NEVER let her go.)

Sometimes, in her dreams, she could sense the presence of another. Not like her dream walking, which was done only at the Emperor’s behest, but like someone was stirring. They never fully awakened though and all she got was a sense of drowsy, sleepy, half interest. Perhaps that was the person His Majesty wanted? But, she didn’t know how to wake her and wasn’t sure she wanted to, even if she could. From the memory flashes she got, even if they were only fragments, that person and his Majesty both hadn’t had good lives.
She would rather not remember.
She knew his Majesty was likely only using her and somehow, she was okay with that. It felt… right. Like she somehow deserved it.
Despite the restrictive training, he was never harsh or cruel with her. She knew he was making her reliant on him and honestly, it wasn’t like she had any friends other than the young lady who had helped her in the seminary course and that had been more on the young lady’s side than hers. She wished the young woman well, but had no desire to further interfere in that young woman’s life, especially since the Emperor had decided to involve himself in her own life.
The Emperor was not someone she wanted to inflict on a friend.
He was a possessive man… and she was now a possession of his.
She had no idea what was going to happen next… but being that man’s possession? She could live with that.
Out of all the choices she had, that seemed to be the least bad.
It was a little lonely, but it was okay.
This was okay.
One day, she might even be happy with it.
She would wait for that day.

Chapter Text

A young woman, isakaied into a fantasy world, stuck to her morals to do good and help people, only not becoming a priest because she didn’t believe in any of those gods (they all seemed to have qualifications that she wasn’t okay with) but she didn’t have the innate ability to become more than a herb healer.
She was always a little too late though and so got a bad reputation.
No one had wanted to party with her and she’d struggled alone.

She found, in a hidden Dungeon she’d fallen into, a strange stone that would allow her to be regenerated to shortly after she Summoned to that world.
This time… this time she will get it right. This time, she will be able to help the people she failed last time. She knows she’s not very smart, trying to do things the same but… she genuinely wants to help.

---

Elsewhere, a figure perks up. The bait laid so long ago has caught a nibble. Now, this person just has to sit back and enjoy the benefits of piggybacking the likely desperate-to-improve regenerator. This person even added an extra tweak so that their new exp cow will have good luck so that they will level up faster and this person can leach off their growth.

Several months later, this person is annoyed as the growth is minimal. They ARE leveling up… but very slowly. They vow to locate and check in on that person. Surely they should have grown more than this.

This person gets so, so annoyed. The Regenerator is an AIRHEAD… worse, she is a ‘kind’ naive one.
Oh… for F’s SAKE.
It’s just typical that this would backfire!

This is far more work than they’d planned on as the girl seems to fall for almost every ploy… even if the good luck ensures that she comes out of it mostly alive.
She doesn’t have a good reputation… exactly, but she is considered to be a kind person who will help any who needs it, so long as they intend no harm to others.

Chapter Text

A young late teen/ early twenties man in the hair and clothing styles of a Murim Young Clan Master leans over an unconscious woman.
Both of them have the lean, muscular build of martial arts cultivators.

The woman is attractive without being exotically so.
Dark hair, worn long but up in a high tail, with two tendrils loose at her ears.
Features, surprisingly refined for a commoner, in forced repose due to chains on her wrists and ankles that crackle with red energy.
Pale, slightly weathered skin.
The green diamond of a high level cultivator on her forehead between the arched but unplucked eyebrows, long eyelashes resting on her cheeks.
Hands and limbs a muscled, graceful and toned, the fingers tough and slightly roughened. Scars dot them here and there.

Unlike the Young Master her clothing was a simple wrap top and gathered pants/ long skirt combo in dull, dark colours. A loose, open style over robe was belted at the waist with a sash that sported many pouches and pockets. Footwear is wraps and sandals.
The only concessions to femininity were a set of pearl studs, an ear cuff and a matching clasp helping the high ponytail stay bound. That and slight eye makeup.
There were two hooks in her belt sash for a dagger and long knife set that had been removed.
While her clothing had been put back, her chest and back now sported large seals that were only visible to the eyes of those at a certain level of Cultivation.
This woman, in her mid to late twenties though she didn’t look it, was going nowhere.

The man stooped over the raised pallet, running his thumb along her lips.
He pressed a little, parting the lips before withdrawing and tilting her head by her chin.
The urge to violate this woman who had refused and defied him, then defeated and humiliated not only him but dozens of others with her skills and lack of care or attention for their status and who had been brought down only through treachery, was growing stronger.

HE had gotten to her first and now he would ensure she would NEVER escape him again.
She would be his concubine… never his wife but always there to serve in his bed and bare his children. Perhaps he’d make her the attendant to his eventual wife?

For now, he tilted her head and tasted those forbidden lips, mapping her mouth with his tongue.
For a moment, he thought of just taking her and allowing her to awaken aching from it or on his cock… but no, he wanted her awake and aware for that. This was enough, for now.
These careless lips, which had never shared a lover’s kiss had been simply the first thing of hers he’d claimed. The rest would follow shortly and he’d have all of them.
He’d likely have to fight to keep her… or perhaps he’d rent her out when he was bored of her? Everyone, now that she was weakened, would want a piece of her but she was HIS and would stay that way until he had at least three children from her to strengthen the Clan… and all of her Cultivation techniques of course.
She was lauded as a genius and now she was HIS genius…
He was looking forward to when she awakened.

Reality was somewhat underwhelming.
He had expected flashing defiance or perhaps, an attempt at suicide.
What he got was calm acceptance and almost a lack of recognition.
Had part of her been shut away with the Seals…

No matter, he had her now and she was obedient enough… or at least she hadn’t done anything that would activate either of the Seal’s effects. She remain graceful and dignified, even in captivity and her control of herself and expressions slacked not one jot.
She spoke formally and respectfully when she addressed him without any form of defiance, mockery or embarrassment… or, more annoyingly, any form of fear or resentment.

He wasn’t sure what to make of it. In her sandals, he’d be fearful and sullen, expecting the worst of mistreatment.
Oh, he wouldn’t do her permanent damage. She was far to valuable for that, at least until they could get her to give up her secrets, but she had not even a hint of fear… and it irked him.

There had been no insolent behavior, she had followed quietly and obediently and spoken only when spoken too.

This was troubling. She was TOO quiet. She had to be up to something… but no, on his arrival at the compound and her introduction, she still remained quiet and observant, even through the feast celebrating her capture by their Clan.

His sister must have been feeling better because she was also there that night, though she didn’t remain long. He didn’t miss his prize’s eyes resting on her thoughtfully before dropping to the stone floor in front of her from where she was being made to kneel along side seat.

He knew he shouldn’t be surprised that she made no protest or complaint in regards to her treatment but he was. He’d been deliberately underfeeding her, attempting to provoke a response but she simply accepted it without so much as a blink.
Where was her warrior’s pride? She hadn’t even responded when he insulted her master and her Discipline. In her place he would have been furious and resentful.
She, however, seemed to let it roll over and around her, like a rock in a stream, seemingly impervious and untouched.

Denied food once more, she didn’t protest and instead spent her time taking note of his people and their places.
Nor did she protest when he took her face by the chin and tilted her head up, thumb rubbing across her lips.

Still not so much as a shiver, a shudder or a hint of fear. Her face, like her dark eyes, were as unreadable as mountain stone.
Even denied food while those around her feasted, or being made to kneel on the stone floor for hours, there was no wavering in her disciplined baring. She was like a doll for all the response she gave. The almost empty seeming eyes merely peered back and it bothered him more than he cared to admit.

Annoyed, he released her and rose as the rest of the Clan waded deeper into their cups.
As he stalked away, a twitch had her rising to follow, still graceful and with no sign that kneeling for hours on cold stone after a hard trip should have troubled her in any way.

That evening she volunteered something for the first time since she’d awoken under his control.

She was kneeling on gracefully on the tatami mats by the door in his study which is where she’d be spending a lot of time from now on unless he gave her a specific task elsewhere.

“Young Master,” she broke the silence. “Were you aware that that Young Miss who left early is being poisoned…”

He glanced up sharply and turned in her his head in her direction.
“You are certain,” he demanded.

She inclined her head. “It may not be deliberate but she has all the symptoms and signs of extreme Mana poisoning. I have noticed, while passing through it, that there is a very high degree of natural Mana in your forests. Everything that lives there also has high Mana tolerance and so does everything brought out of it, food and products included. If one was born without the natural tolerances living for generations in such a land brings, it could well poison them instead.
That Young Miss must be quite a fighter to have lived so long.
Usually, unless someone helps them awaken their Ki and help them manually build tolerances, such people die as babes.
The Young Miss appeared to be between five and ten and double tens. She has a strong will.”

“And you think you can help her?”

“I would not have spoken otherwise, Young Master.
I am not a Healer. My touch is not fine and it will cause the Young Miss pain if I should try, but I am a powerful Cultivator. I can help her body expel the stagnant Mana and heal itself.
She will always have residue damage without the aid of a powerful restorative like a Phoenix Pill or Regeneration Potion but she will live and even grow strong enough to fulfill the duties of the head female of a Clan until Young Master marries and that wife can take over.
She will always be a little delicate though and sensitive to powerful Mana.”

He tapped his chin in thought. “I will think on this,”

“As you will, Young Master.” She was quiet for the rest of the night.

It was two days later the Young Master’s prize was introduced to his sister and the offer made.

The young lady, despite the promise of likely intense discomfort and pain, snapped the offer up on the spot.

She refused all attendants and Clan Members and the Cultivator backed her up.

If the Young Miss was uneasy or uncomfortable, this would not be as effective. It was the young Miss choice on who, if any, should witness her discomfort.
(That she wanted and trusted none of them said much about her likely treatment at the hands of her ‘attendants’)

Out from under the eyes of the ‘Young Master’ and the rest of the Clan, the Cultivator captive’s manner changed completely.

“So,” she said, sprawling in a graceless, very masculine fashion. “Shall we try living this time Little Princess?” Her manner of speech and intonation was also very masculine. “Mana overload was a dramatic as fuck way to go out and take the shitheels here with you, but it doesn’t seem to have done us much good huh?”

“You,” the poisoned young woman stammered, “You remember too?”

“Came back to myself the same as the first time, leashed by your young puppy of an older brother. I think my very calmness and compliance is messing with his head a bit though.”

The younger woman, her eyes gleaming a little answered, “This is ‘malicious compliance’, yes?”
‘She’ waggled her hand back and forth. “A little bit. Malicious Compliance is usually things like taking orders to literally or creatively interpreting them in ways that inconvenience the one who commanded it, without getting the doer in trouble… hopefully.
Anyway, how much do you remember?”

“I have been getting impressions, dreams on and off for years but nothing I could remember. It was only when I saw your face at dinner that things settled. It’s why I retired early.”

“Alrighty then. I’ve thrown up the sound blockers so you can vent to your heart’s content. You remember how this goes?”

“Oh, yes,” the younger woman struggled to raise her body as the Cultivator moved in to help her. Despite having her memories of how last time went back, her body was still weak from continual poisoning and lack of movement.

Once disrobed and in position, the Cultivator began… and was quite impressed at the language flying from the Young Misses mouth.

Apparently, this time, she’d chosen swearing over screaming. She could make a sailor blush.

With a snicker, the Cultivator continued.

As the young woman wasn’t resistant in anyway and had entrusted herself entirely to the other’s hands, it went far faster than last time.

They were able to remove more of the damage too.

It’d still take two or three days in total and several weeks of slowly lessening visits to get her to as good as she was going to get with some form of regeneration, but they were off to a good start. The Cultivator would be sleeping in the Young Miss rooms to attend to her needs, though she would receive visitors every day for a short time to check up on her.

By the end of the week, both of them were looking exhausted but the Young Miss was better. She had more energy, could eat more and even rise to tend to her own needs.

The Cultivator on the other hand, looked as though she’d been through a war. There were even traces of dark circles under her eyes.

Still, as he entered, she knelt and saluted respectfully.

“It is done, Young Master. This one will still need to check on her every five hours or so for another three days, dropping to twice a day over the next two and then it should be fine to check the Young Miss only once a day for a month or so.
It would be better if we had a Cultivator Healer look at her. I am sure of my work but I am no Healer and the Young Misses situation is quite unique.”

“Will you need to remain with her overnight?” the Puppy demanded.

“Not really, but I will need to check on her from time to time so please place me somewhere people won’t be disrupted by my rising to do so if possible Young Master… if you don’t want me staying with her.”

He tapped his chin. “Another three days, was it?”

“Yes, Young Master,” she agreed from her place on the floor.

He had a servant bring her to an actual cupboard a few doors down from the Young Miss room.

The servant snickered after opening the door for her but the Cultivator showed no reaction and the servant went away, feeling disgruntled.

What would it take to make this bitch react!

There wasn’t a lot of room in the cupboard but that was fine.
She had slept, meditated and Cultivated in far worse.
At least it was cozy and she could sense the Young Miss easily from here.

To her bemusement, the Young Miss preferred to be attended by the Cultivator than any of the Clan’s servants and made her preferences blatant.

Her lord brother allowed it for four days before he told her to stop being so spoiled and took his Cultivator prize back.

He was less than impressed to find his prize had been set up in a cupboard of all places and the servant responsible for this ‘prank’ was punished heavily.
For a young man who prided himself on his Clan name, his Art and his appearance, to have his prize resting in a cupboard was shameful. It hinted that he couldn’t afford room or space for her.

She had not protested, she never did, but wouldn’t have anyway believing this was his order.

He had already contacted an Outclan Healeral Specialist but that person wouldn’t arrive for a month and his sister was already far more lively.

He wasn’t exactly sure what his prize had done… but the poison he’d been feeding his sister, who had killed his beloved mother with her birth and turned his father into someone he didn’t recognise, now no longer effected her.
He hadn’t wanted to kill her outright as she was all that remained of mother, besides himself, but having her weak, useless and dependent on his good will, disregarded by the rest of the Clan had seemed a suitable punishment.
That it would resemble Mana poisoning and could be treated similarly hadn’t even occurred to him… and, yes, he was aware of the occasional livestock or villager who died due to Mana poisoning. They were only clanless commoners. Like they mattered.

Even with that distraction, he got back to settling his new concubine into her duties… only, she had no feminine skills, training or knowledge. If it wasn’t for the fact she had to squat to pee, he’d take her as a delicately built male.

As she told him, she was a clanless orphan. She, and a bunch of other rag tag brats, banded together for survival, learning how to fight, fix things and so on due to sheer necessity.
The one who had betrayed her was one of only seven survivors out of their band of nearly twenty brats - but there were always people going, either by death or by having been picked up for training, taken by slavers or whatever else and new ones finding there way in.
None of them felt resentment for others who had gotten ahead in life. That was just how things are. If someone is picked up for teaching you wished them well and went on with your life.
The group always had some fighters, but they were no match for slavers, so a kid who was taken had a choice of persisting and seeing if things could get better later, or ending themselves then and there.
Their group sometimes were able to send one or two of their smarter ones to learn under whoever they could. That person would then come back and teach the rest of them.

Then, you had the ones like her who were picked up by a skilled Master.
She went from clanless orphan streetchild to apprentice of a male wandering sage with little on his mind but passing and improving his Art.
She hadn’t even been his first apprentice but, since theirs was an evolving style with there belief of there was NO true one way, simply the way that suits each person best, it didn’t matter. Each apprentice would take the basics of the style and then find new elements and adaptations that suited them to fit with it creating a style unique to them.

Where, along that journey, would she have found someone… or even had an interest in finding someone, to teach her feminine arts?
Nor had she ever stayed in such a place where things like bath attendants happened since her Master was an ascetic and she’d known no other lifestyle.
It was a side of life she’d had no experience in.

He should have guessed as much. A wanderer would have little use for such things and, what little make up and jewellery she had worn was done to honour the Master who had gifted them to her.

He sighed. They would need to bring in a teacher for them both. So shameful… but they had not had a head for female duties since his mother had passed. Various servants took care of different parts. A sad state for their Clan.

His prize was very honest with him in what she could do… while not telling him a thing about her Arts or how they worked. Typical.

While she knew a little of massage and much about the body, she had never had any interest in learning anything to do with bedplay. To her, massage was more about toning the muscles, relaxing them and keeping them in good order. The same with Cultivation and acupuncture.

The girl who had betrayed her had followed the Flower Path, becoming a lower ranked courtesan but she had still done well enough for herself.

When Puppy pushed her on if she was angry at that girl still trying to get a response from her beyond calm stoicism.

Stoic as ever, she said it would depend on if the girl had willingly betrayed her of if she was held the way the Cultivator was.
If it were the first, she would kill her and call it done. She would grant a clean death in memory of their shared past.
If it was the second, what use was it to get angry at the blade that cut you? No, far better to save your rage for the hand that holds and directs it… If she could catch hold of that one, well, she had plans that would make them sorry for ever considering it.

He ordered her to remain where she was overnight in his frustration and she settled, easily enough. At least he was no longer denying her food and it was an opportunity to meditate and, more importantly, Cultivate.

She had not left the Clan house since she’d been brought back with him as he didn’t trust her to be fully obedient yet. Nor had she been given permission or a chance to train.
So far, her captivity was quite boring, but she’d had worse. She could afford to be patient…

Two days after the Young Miss was confirmed as Healed as she was going to get and one before the arrival of the Summoned Healer, the Young Lady of the Clan found her and demanded that the Cultivator take her to town.

She tried to talk the young woman out of it, to take guards as befitting a lady of her station, something… anything.

She was denied and the young lady ordered her to obey.
As the young woman was a noble of the Clan the Cultivator could only bend her neck and do so.

Without killing or harming the guards overly much, the Cultivator and her passenger dashed over the wall and towards the town, with barely any notice.

The Young Miss wanted to both inform them of the Mana situation (she was furious that her brother and her father before had known but HADN’T CARED. The villagers were a resource and deserve to be cultivated properly) and to explore the village.
It had been years since she was healthy enough to leave her bed and now that she could, she wished to so it.

The Villagers were most grateful for the news but she was dreading when the Puppy caught up with them which he did just as the Young Mistress was exiting from the town gates.

Trailing respectfully along behind her, the Cultivator shuddered and dropped, taking a knee and bowing low.

“Sister,” the Puppy demanded, “What is the meaning of this! Are you trying to flee the Clan!”

He was disconcerted when the girl scoffed at him and then went on a full rant about the proper care of resources and how he was doing NOTHING to help them and she couldn’t even send a messenger as NONE OF THEM EVER LISTENED TO HER. So she’d taken someone who was both strong enough to guard her safety AND had no choice but to listen.

From her place in the dirt, the Cultivator added,”This one gives utmost apologies to the Young Master, but the Young Mistress is also a Clan Heir and this one could not refuse a direct order.”

The siblings make their way back to the Clan house, arguing and bickering all the way about respecting other peoples things and not making use of them so cavalierly.

All the while the Young Master was considering his Conqubine’s earlier words.
Both of them needed teaching and if she had enough energy to get such ideas in her head, it was definitely time to begin her training!

On their return, he kept the Cultivator pointedly by his side, even to having her sleep within his bed chambers though not sharing the bed.

He walked her through how to act as his bath attendant, having her strip for it, which she did without any sign of reluctance or embarrassment. Truely, she had no sense of feminine modesty to her, for all her body was very definitely female.
To her, her body was a tool and a weapon and she was quite proud of it.
She did not question the order.
For her, unclothed was merely a lack of protective coverings rather than the ‘naked/ shame’ response it should trigger. It made SENSE to remove garments for a bath, unless a person was planning to wash both at once.

Her master could only sigh in resignation even as he admired the view.

There were a lot of scars but the body itself was pleasing. Muscles wrippled under skin that was still silky to touch even if she was a little on the thin side. That could be fixed easily enough and she wasn’t skinny enough to be unhealthy… not yet.
Outside of the scars of training and past combat the skin was pale.
She was not tall, reaching to perhaps under his chin but there was a lot of power packed into that small form and he KNEW how formidable she was.
Her neck was long and graceful and he noted she did not take her hair out of it’s high tail at night… in fact, she either rolled it into a bun or braided it.
Small, high breasts that needed little support having just enough fatty tissue to give them shape. A nice little handful and when he squeezed one experimentally, she simply tilted her head, curious as though she didn’t understand why he’d do that but willing to go along with it.
The belly was lean and toned, as expected from a practicing Cultivator, having a defined six pack. Hips and thighs were the same. As were the arms and legs.
He noted with interest the hands and feet were also quite slender and graceful and wondered at her lines.
As he’d noticed earlier, her face was quite pleasing too. Many commoners were like unformed lumps of clay next to the noble clans but not her.
Naturally arched brows, a straight nose neither to large nor small for beauty, unpainted lips that were slightly on the fuller side, a wide brow and a small, pointed chin set in an oval face.
The ears were high and small too.
If she hadn’t been picked up by a Master, she could have done quite well in the Flower District of any town.

Curious, he had her run through a water based kata for him.
She’d blinked, bemused but obeyed.
As expected, she moved with an economic grace, like the predator she was.
He was reminded of a great cat he’d seen hunting one time, or one of his contemporaries lean tracking hounds called coursers. They were made for running down a prey and then holding them or tearing into them with their strong jaws.

Quite a lovely picture she made with water still slick on her skin and beads running down her bare body.

The long hair, at his instigation, was unbound for the bath and, heavy with water, straggled over her body, clinging and adding to the droplets on her form.
Such a thing would have driven him mad with irritation but, as usual, she didn’t so much as blink. She simply divided the hair, so that the left portion sat over her right shoulder and vice versa so it didn’t block her vision.
On closer inspection, he could see she had no finge at all. In fact, it looked like her hair had not been cut in years if ever and rarely washed.

Much like his sister, her skin and nails had never been properly cared for…
Someone would have to be punished over that neglect. He’d meant to keep her weak and dependant, not for the servants to get it into their heads to ignore her needs and upkeep. They had an image to maintain after all.

He couldn’t risk getting his prize pregnant. Not yet, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t sample that weapon of a body a little.
He had time now. He could indulge.
He would begin here before moving to his bed chamber… and ensure she had a room nearby now that his sister no longer needed her.

He’d explore every scar on that body with his hands and mouth…

If he had not ordered her not to muffle herself, he would have gotten nothing out of her but he couldn’t help but feel pride that he was the first to touch her like this.
To draw such responses from her.

For a practicing Cultivator, she was surprisingly naive about the pleasure her own body could bring her, far more accustomed to the pain of training.

He’d gotten so distracted by what sounds he could coax from her, he never got around to actually lying with her… besides, with her strength he wasn’t sure he trusted her with his most delicate portion yet and he’d come unaided, excited simply by her startled pleasure and helplessly honest responses.

He could believe now, that she’d never so much as touched herself she was so sensitive.
That was alright, he’d take his time and teach her slowly.

(If he pouted a bit the next morning when she seemed as unflappable and calm as ever, no one had to know. It did hurt his pride a bit though. Even before paying, he was quite popular in the Flower Districts of several of the larger towns…)

The Healer arrived and was welcomed by the full Clan, their captive Cultivator included in the party, three respectful steps behind the Young Master’s right shoulder and on her knees.

Once he was rested, he examined the Young Mistress and corrected a few minor issues but said over all it was a job well done… considering the person was working with only what a Cultivator learned.

Said Cultivator shrugged off the implied insult. She was not a Healer and had stated as much at the start. It was why she wanted an ACTUAL Healer to come and check over her work.

That got the Healer curious and he wished to examine her and to test her knowledge.

The Young Master allowed it despite the fact the Seals that bound her would also be examined.
(She had already seen the Seals through the borrowed eyes of the Young Mistress and discussed what they meant.
Essentially, she was tied to the bloodline, not the Young Master. She could not raise a hand against them and she could not disobey a direct order from them.

If they should all died, the tether would be loosened, but the Seals would not vanish.
She would only be Masterless until someone else figured out what was going on and grabbed her. Her capture, alive, would be the trigger for the next tether bond.

So long as the one who placed it on her lived, she would never be rid of it.

There was also a component for binding any child of hers as well.

Still, she was a high level Cultivator. She’d live for centuries and there was plenty of time to find a way to be rid of it… or to pass it off to another.

This tether was quite loose and she had no interest in triggering clauses that might tighten it.)

It seemed both she and the Young Mistress might have an aptitude for Healeral Cultivation. The Healer suggested that they both begin training.

There was also a need to train both in the female arts.

Now that she had the potential to be valuable, the Young Master had decided his sister would not be married out. Her husband or concubinator would be brought in.

The Healer also encouraged him to allow his captive to continue with her training and Cultivation. It wasn’t good for abilities to stagnate.
That was annoying but his sister and the elders were poking him over it too. The woman was a weapon and leaving such on a display case was a sad waste. She was HIS weapon now, so he should weild her properly.

After that she and the Young Mistress were taught to both read and write in the female language which bemused the Cultivator but she learned anyway and that Healer sent one of his own apprentices to begin the pair on Healingl Cultivation…

Both of them began to have their appearance cared for too.
A maid was assigned to brush hair, treat skin, care for nails and all that other feminine rubbish the Young Master felt needed proper tending to. They even had one each.
It was all very bemusing but her hair had never been so smooth or shiny.

On the whole, she preferred taking care of that for the Young Miss as neither could relax around the house servants and the Cultivator disliked having ANYONE behind her.
Still, it was an order and to be permitted to train again, it was a small enough sacrifice.

Both of their clothing was also upgraded with things the Young Master felt more suitable for their stations.

His prize asked only that it be clothing she could move easily in. He was no weakling, but should she need to call on her Arts in defence of him or the Young Miss, she didn’t want clothing getting in her way.

Reluctantly, he agreed… though he still wasn’t comfortable enough to return her weapons to her… even if he allowed her to practice with replicas.

He really didn’t understand her. In her place, he would have been resentful and furious with what she was being made to learn.

His prize simply tilted her head at him, a gesture she did when puzzled.
She did not understand why she would be but since her owner wished her to explain it in a way he could understand, well, she would try.

“The core tenant of our Sect,” she began, “is that ‘There is NO one true path.’ That agrees with what this one learned as a child which is why this one took to it so easily.
What there is is what this one can learn now, so that is what this one WILL learn now, wholeheartedly. Education like this is a privilege. One this one would have killed to have as a child. Knowing more means more ways of finding food, making things or finding allies. It meant a better chance at survival.
Now, this one, a clanless orphan, is being permitted to learn the same things as a Clan’s Young Mistress. Why would this one become upset or complain? It is free education on subjects this one would never have access to otherwise.
Would the sort of pride the Young Master speaks of fill an empty belly? Will it keep the little ones warm at night or the adult brigands from attacking? If not, what use is it to a person like this one? Clanless orphans do not have the time or the energy for such things…”

When the Young Master tried to point out that she was no longer Clanless, she pointed out in return that she still had but one name and thus, was still Clanless. A captive did not become Clan, just like that.

He left, annoyed and feeling like he lost.
It didn’t help that his prize was rapidly becoming the Young Mistress favourite companion and seemed to have no issue with that.

As a Clan Heir and leader in all but name, he couldn’t cut her out of the contract with the Cultivator girl especially as both of them were learning under the Junior Healer that person had dispatched and doing well.

Still, something had to be done.

A year slid by easily… but there still wasn’t anyone he’d trust to teach the more male/ female side of a woman’s arts.

With that in mind, he left his sister in charge of the estate and took his still virginal concubine on a trip with him.

Despite being dressed more richly she remained indifferent to any potential female pride in her appearance. She wore what was laid out for her and thought nothing of ruining it in a pinch.
She preferred practical, easy to move in clothing and had no idea of fashion or style and was utterly unbothered by that fact.
The Young Miss had a better eye and enjoyed dressing her up.
She tolerated it since it seemed to amuse the young woman and had the Young Master nodding approval… which got him off her back a bit.

She wore make up, beyond the eyeliner that marked her as part of a certain Cultivation linage, only when required too.
Her fine, dark hair was treated the same way. She kept it in the same practical styles she always had.
If she had her way, she’d have cut it short but since it keeps growing anyway, keeping it longer meant she could pull it back out of her face. It had grown as long as it had simply due to a lack of time and tools to properly cut it.
Besides, longer hair meant she could wear her mentor's momento. The same with the ear cuff and studs. They, and the hair ornament, were a set.
(He suspected they were actually Cultivation focuses or something similar).

He’d brought her pleasure often enough and taught her how to do the same for him but she never sought him out and never lost herself too it.
This was shameful to him as both a man and her master.

This required a more hands on approach.

It wasn’t that she was dense, exactly. She just didn’t seem to see any value in seeking it out for herself. It was something nice, but not important.
He wanted more than that from her.

He travelled in style and insisted she ride with him as they approached a certain place in a city several weeks away from their Clan House. They had trade goods with them and it was a river port. Being a trade city, it had a large ‘Flower’ (entertainment) District.

It also had a certain traitor ‘entertainer’ of his Concubine’s acquaintance.

That shocked her a little.
She’d always been fast and she’d been their little pack’s best messenger and out there fighting beside the boys to keep their brat pack safe..
A fight for survival has no pride… but she disliked striking from behind or at a distance, preferring direct confrontation and simple language.
She had since learned to use the right approach for whatever job but…
A chance to confront her betrayer… she would take that.

Perhaps, if that was sorted, he could find someone to help her ‘loosen up’ a bit.

Never going to happen. After a life of privation and then strict discipline, ‘loosen up’ wasn’t really in her vocabulary.

She didn’t expect the other girl, a lesser ‘sister’ in a well established entertainment house, to throw herself at her feet and beg for death.

She raised the other girl to her feet, wrapped her arms around the trembling body and asked a single question. “Are you also held?”

Basically, did she betray her fellow orphan of her own volition or was she made to do so.

“He… arrived a month before you did,” the words spilled and tumbled from the shaking girl. “Bought my contract. I didn’t think anything of it until there were patches of memory missing. And then… then…” The other girl, a brown haired, lively beauty usually, burst into tears, further ruining her make up.

It took her some time to calm down and her older sister just held her.

After wiping her eyes and nose, the younger woman continued. “I… don’t think he cares about me all that much. I was a means to an end. I… think you were troublesome or in his way somehow and he wanted you neutralised. Not dead but out of the way so you couldn’t cause him further trouble. That is just my feeling but…”

The other woman tapped her chin in consideration. “Why give me to the Puppy of a Young Master. He’s no one important… and why not just kill me and have done with it. Why bother binding me?
He knows I have centuries to hunt his arse down and make him pay, not just for leashing me to the Puppy but for forcing one of my few friends to betray me… When I find him, Seals or not, I intend to render him limb from limb, ensuring that he can’t die and then I’ll tie his immortal soul to his skull and have it turned into a chamber pot so I and whatever descendants can continue to display our displeasure for him through the generations! Maybe a couple of hundred years of carrying shit, piss and puke will get my point across…”

The other girl fearfully laid a finger against her lips. “Shhhh. I KNOW he listens with my ears and looks with my eyes sometimes and I have dreams from him. I don’t know what the triggers are though so please…!”

Older Sister patted her head. “It’s fine. He had to have a pretty good idea of what my intentions would have been towards him anyway so it’s not like he’s learned anything new. I’m not giving up one of my few female friends just because the guy who leashed her is a fucktard.”

The mostly recovered girl places a finger between delicately plucked brows as if to stave off a headache and sighed. “Must you be so vulgar all the time?”

Her ‘older sister’ grinned toothily. “Fuckin’ Clanless guttertrash and proud of it, Sweetie.

Anyway, I think the Puppy wants me to learn lady ways. He’s fumbled at me a couple of times but seems annoyed by the fact i don’t come back for more without being prompted. He’s having me taught fuckin’ lady language with his sister, along with Healer shit… I know I’m pro’ly gonna have to sleep with him sometime, but I don’t want to get fuckin’ pregnant.
Healer who looked at it said it’d probably latch on to any brats put into me but fuck that for a joke. Better just not to have said brats. Problem is, I can’t get a good look at the Seal since the Fucktard rendered it invisible to my sight AND my Mana sense.
He’s good, I’ll give him that much.
Long story short, I don’t know if it’ll screw with what I do to control my cycles or not.

The Puppy won’t risk getting me knocked up before he gets a wife and breeds an heir but still…I need to know enough of the bedplay shit to get him off and maybe inhibit a reload before he can stick it anywhere troublesome. My boobes, thighs and arse… maybe my mouth too, won’t keep him distracted forever…”

“Do you have to be so fucking CRUDE…”

Her ‘older sister’ smirked. “Gotcha. And, only around you Sweety. To the rest I’m a model of restraint and grace. You, and maybe the Lil Princess who’s my best pick for leash holder, are the only ones who get to see this side of me. We should have a drink sometime…”

The younger girl raised a hand over her mouth and then turned and wacked her ‘older sister’ in the arm with her soft and dainty little fist while the other woman snickered.

“You shut up. Why do you always have to do that!”

“‘Cause it’s fuckin’ funny. Why else? Anyway, so, will you do it? Teach me enough to keep that Puppy satisfied? Listening ears or not, I wouldn’t trust anyone else to do it right…”

“I…” the other girl sighed and dropped her fist. “Fine. I’ll need to negotiate with your Puppy… I… I mean Young Master first though to see if he’s willing to pay or if you’ll be fit in wherever.”

“It’ll be wherever. Bet.”

“Sigh. Fine. I’ll have him sent for.”

Watching her only surviving accessible female friend lead the Puppy around by his balls wasn’t exactly what she wanted to do with her evening but, as commanded, she took notes on technique and so on.

Their Flower carried on easily but the Puppy had a bit of performance anxiety until their Flower distracted him to the point he forgot the Cultivator was there.

It had her wondering why the Flower was only a midlevel entertainer, barely a few levels up from a tea girl . Surely she could climb higher if she wished…

Nor had she expected the Puppy to leave her there for two months… without bothering to cover the cost. Stingy brat.

Still, leashed or not, she was a high level Cultivator and there was always work.

Her seals did not interfere with any of her skills or abilities… they just ensured she was bound to the service of a certain line. There were always Seals that needed to be touched up and guarding to be done.

While she was at it, she learned how to cook the delicate foods offered, the basics of stitching and caring for the fine clothes and all that other domestic shit along with the games the ladies played between times.

She’d never make her way as either a cook or seamstress but she was good for the basic work.

Between her Cultivation skills and the Healerl training, she was welcome in any house of the area so long as they were willing to teach her something in return.
No knowledge was useless, even when it wasn’t immediately useful. Redundant sometimes, outdated often, but not useless. Old knowledge paves the way for new knowledge and can give hints of the mindsets and language of its era.

Perhaps learning how to wait tables or work in the kitchen wasn’t what the Puppy had had in mind but he should have been more specific.

She was a decent story teller and good in a fight so she occasionally stepped in as a bouncer here or there, or a Healer, a cook, a tea or laundry girl wherever she could find a spot.

Between times, she Cultivated, meditated and practiced with her blades or her martial skills.
It would have been nice to see the rest of the city… but the Puppy had ordered her to stay within the entertainment section and she could not buck a direct order.

In exchange for treatment or treats, the various ladies shared tips and tricks.

As she figured earlier, the Cultivator had no eye for colour or style and was about as artistic as a brick but she picked up technical skills fast, even those of instruments.
She thought, after she was done here, she might keep up with the flute. It was excellent breath control and she enjoyed coaxing sounds from the difficult to master instrument.

She tracked targets to keep in practice, connected with the local street brats and taught them a bit and generally enjoyed her working vacation.

She learned quite a bit about hair and make up and how they could be used to alter a face or compliment a disguise. No one looked at the girl under the paint in the Flower quarter, just what the paint represented.

When pushed on whether she resented this sort of ‘training’ by the Flower, she simply repeated that her mantra.
One so familiar the Little Princess, the Flower and any familiar with her could repeat it with her.

‘There is no useless knowledge.’ Just because the training was on subjects she wouldn’t personally have chosen, it’s free/cheap education and worth learning. Gutter brats pick up learning wherever/ whenever they can. .
(Of course, that meant her writing was a weird mishmash… getting better now, but there wasn’t a thing wrong with her reading.)

The two months passed… and the Puppy didn’t return.

Two months slide into three and then four and she was beginning to grow concerned.

She could not leave the city, though the two months being up allowed her out of the Flower quarter meaning she could send a message which could be assured to arrive safely.
As much as she was enjoying this, she could use an update on the situation back at the Clan House.

Three weeks later, word came back that the Puppy had gotten himself in trouble.

The Young Mistress ordered her to go after and retrieve her wayward brother.

Alrighty then. She grinned. The trail might be a bit cold, but she wasn’t a top Cultivator for nothing. Tracking the Puppy down would be a snap.

Some fucking rats thought they could hold HER leash through the Puppy. She can’t have that.

The entire faction dies. She might not be that fond of underhanded means but… it doesn’t mean she can’t use them.

Shikigami aren’t hard to make and these fools didn’t think to guard against them. A Mana boosted sedative in the meal ensured most of them were down and it was easy enough to send a second wave through to slit the throats of everyone in the complex… save those in the cells.

These fuckers were drugging up those they caught and then selling them off, except for specials like the Puppy.
Men, women, children, they didn’t care.
All of them were firmly addicted to the enhanced opiate.

The Puppy was in for a rough time recovering. Beating addiction was nasty.

She did sort of wander how they’d gotten him though. The Puppy was a decent martial artist and he wasn’t a weak Cultivator either even if he was a special as he thought he was.

Still, she was far stronger and look where she was now.

She kept the Head, the Heir and the daughter along with any brats. Five and younger it was easy to wipe their memories completely and they could be raised to serve the Puppy.

It wasn’t hard to keep the trio unconscious and under control and they obediently wrote out the cypher to their notes… and the rewrote their notes in plain language.
The seals on their back meant they rose, ate, cared for themselves and rested, all without waking up.

Ah… the Puppy was infatuated with the girl, believing her brats to be an orphaned niece and nephew (they were not but her betrothed match at the time hadn’t been inclined to wait and had raped the barely a fourteen year old. She’d birthed the twins safely but it had impacted her health, taking her years to recover. She was eighteen now and her husband to be had been slaughtered by her Clan for the insult) so it was easy for her to get him to have a meal and share laced tea with her.
He hadn’t been fully conscious since.

The Puppy’s sister had a lighter hand with more delicate work, so she needed to wrap things up and get the Puppy back to her fast.

She worked the trio until they could undo the worst of the addiction on their prisoner/ test subjects, had them do so and then did a rough and dirty detox before moving the lot of them to an abandoned warehouse near the docks and burning that place to the ground… hidden underground labs included.

The girl was kept in case the Puppy wanted her but her children would be raised in the Village.

As brats from an alchimist line, she’d have the Healer pick them up once they were old enough.
She wouldn’t need them as the Puppy could always sire more on her.

The locks on the wench would be far stricter than the ones on the Cultivator but this, at least, might distract the Puppy from his fumblings at her. The physical pleasure was nice enough, she supposed but it just felt weird with this female body.

Was it cold and cruel? Damn right it was.
That was the point.
They tried for the Puppy and got smacked down for it. An example had to be made and they were it.

Besides, she was a Cultivator, not a saint.

The Puppy was a weakness and a shackle on her and it was so, so tempting to do a little fiddling to keep him from being such an irritant… but that was likely to trigger something in her Seals as it skated very close to doing him harm.
He didn’t have to last long after all and she didn’t expect him to. Just long enough to marry, sire a few brats and meet the unfortunate end he was rushing towards as an overly prideful, headstrong young man… unless he grew the fuck up.
Five or six years and the Little Princess should have enough experience to step up as family head and take over the raising of the bitch’s brats and headship of the family.
Then, the bitch could die too.

Wow, her inner psychopath was close to the surface today, wasn’t it.
And she had far too much to do to take the time to shove it back in the box.

She’d hunt down some scum later to sate the beast a little, sort the vics (the plan was to tell them they’d been kidnapped for the flesh trade but rescued. Here, have a couple of gold coins and go about your business.), then have the brats shipped back to the village. It could use a bit of new blood and she wanted to keep an eye on the kids in case any of them had talent.

Bitch and Puppy were going back to the Clan House along with the journals.
She’d tell the Little Princess about the Clan brats in the Village in case she wanted to sponsor them for the Clan.

Oh well, she’d hunt down some scum so that she won’t show this bloodthirsty face to the Flower or the Little Princess, tell the Flower farewell for now and get those two back to the Clan House or a near by safehouse to detox.
She’d have the brats shipped ahead.

One of the reasons she could stand with the boys in their little brat pack was she enjoyed taking out fuckers targetting them a little TOO much.
Her mentor had helped her stabalise that rampaging Mana, smooth out the surges and direct that energy to where SHE wanted it to go rather than letting it direct her.
Still, if her darker side was making an appearance, she was sliding towards being out of balance. Damn that Fucktard. The Seals were throwing her out of balance. She was going to have to retrain to compensate for them.

Oh… now that was interesting. The bitch was carrying. Mana traces showed that it was probably the Puppy who sired them too. There was even a marriage agreement, not yet signed.
Well, that was convenient.
With the Seals the bitch was wearing, she wouldn’t be causing trouble.

The Puppy was going to take months to straighten out fully and they’d probably have to recall that Healer too. She was… ah, dammit.

She’d make sure this was properly set up and THEN she was going to go retrain.

The response to her letter to the Little Princess had her snickering. “I believe the appropriate response to that is ‘shut your ghetto whore mouth, you trash!”
Ah… she was coming along well. That response meant she’d handle it and the Cultivator had until the Puppy was straightened out to get her shit sorted.

Nice!

A year. A. Fucking. YEAR. it took them to get their shit straightened out.

For an incarnate the ghetto born, hetro, nigger male had blended surprisingly well with the Clanless, gutter born, orphan, Asian equivalent, female Cultivator despite the fact her personality was mostly suppressed by the Seals.
What could he say? He just vibed with her so hard. She was just so relatable.

Enough of her memories and training had leaked through for him and his theater brat soul revelled in the sheer drama of it all. They might have been from the ghetto but the uncle who raised him was no fool and suffered no stupid shit under his roof.

He might have been a bit player actor getting by on chorus line and extra work but it put food on the table and inspired passion in his little nephew’s soul.
He might LOOK like a thug but he did it with passion and flare.

This scrappy bit of nothing he was cohabitating with now? Her flare, fire and drive practically sparkled to him and some fucker had tried to cage that burning star of a soul?

Fuck that noise.
And fuck the Fucktard responsible sideways… with a chainsaw!

They were stable ish now, even if it required them hunting up a former running mate who was also a high level Cultivator and practitioner to beat shit out of eachother for a bit.

They had a pretty good image and location of those fucking Seals and a counter had been laid on top that would gradually smother and crack that bitch, allowing more of the original owner to leak through.

Female bodies were always in a constant state of flux due to that whole reproduction cycle bs. Tossing Seals, memory traces, fuckin’ lethal strength, reflexes and muscle memory and an Incarnate into the mix just bumped the difficulty level straight into Hell mode.

It was fine.
They got it sorted… eventually but it was going to be an ongoing thing as they wouldn’t HAVE a new normal until this Seal bs and the Fucktard responsible got dealt with properly.

She checked in with the Little Princess who had her brother VERY firmly in hand. His little wife and their spawn too.
The Cultivator might not have been able to touch him but the Little Princess? That was a whole other story and she owed him for a lifetime of poisoning and the rest of the Clan for how they’d treated her while she was an invalid.
Oh no, she hadn’t forgotten that in any way. There was a REASON the Cultivator had been her closest companion.

The brother would now be less of an overly proud stupid young hot head and more the Clan Head he should be.

Meantime, the Little Princess loosed their leash and gave them two missions.
One, find a way to heal the Little Princess body and two, find the Fucktard responsible and eliminate him with extreme prejudice by whatever means they needed to use.

Now THOSE were some fuckin’ orders she/they could get behind!

Thirty years it took all tolled and she got in the Fucktards way regularly and often so his gamebit of leashing her was a minor pause, if that.

The Little Princess was a Clan Head in her own right now. A matriarch even. She had several lovers and even a brat or two of her own at foot.
Her children and her brothers were raised in exactly the same manner so it would be purely by merit that her position was inherited… but that wouldn’t be anytime soon.

The Phoenix Pill had allowed her to Cultivate for herself and she was a mid rank healer. She wouldn’t live for centuries… but she would last past her first century, easily and the Cultivator was glad of it.

They were friends, well, friends with benefits but who was counting and who would comment?
And the Little Princess? She was NO weakness.
It was nice to have a place where a wanderer like her was welcome back to.

Chapter Text

The Emperor, blond, handsome to the point it was painful, with the arrogance of born nobility AND those born with perfect looks combined, ventured into the harem to find his only son and heir.

Why the infant was in the harem rather than with his nursemaid was a little concerning but he rarely interfered with what his women did outside of entertaining himself with them or punishing them if they disrespected his empress or endangered his legitimate children.

It may be that they were simply doting on his Heir as most of them would never have a child of their own. The harem palace had long ago been modified to keep the women from baring or their guards from indulging…

Only his Empress and a few carefully chosen concubines would bare his children and only the children of an Empress could inherent the throne.
The concubine's children were raised as the legitimate heirs’ permanent body servants and attendants.

The royal couple usually tried for three at the least. The heir, the spare and the mare. One to rule, the second to support and the third to buy alliances through marriage. The gender and birth order mattered little. It depended on which child suited which role best. Any extras were marriage bait.

(His current child was only heir presumptive due to being his only child. Once his siblings were born he'd need to prove himself worthy. The Emperor, unless assassinated, could live for over a century. Fifteen to twenty years to wait for his off spring to manifest an ability was nothing. )

He knew it was custom to let the child chose the mothers of his or her attendants (from pre screened candidates of course but the DID get to choose.
Each child was permitted to pick between three and ten women. Less chosen meant each woman had to bare more children but the Heirs were permitted to add a new candidate until they were six.
The choosing started in their first year of life as soon as the Heir/ess was mobile, even if that was only crawling.
The initial pick was between one and three with one or two more being added every year. They had an hour to pick and it was the first two to three women approached that counted as chosen.) but he'd thought the child needed to be old enough to crawl properly or toddle.
His infant he was some what sure was under six months...

The women knew better than to try and harm him of course.
It wasn't just their lives riding on royal favour after all. It was their families, villages and anyone close to them and they would be forced to witness each death which usually involved torture, before they were given to the mages for their experiments.
He wanted anyone so foolish to genuinely suffer before they died after all.

At any rate, he had a gift for his small son.
The son of the head of the latest kingdom conquered, some holy paladin who had given him a decent fight, was pretty enough to suit his taste and so might also suit his sons. The child was four or five and hadn't cried even when he'd tossed the sire's head at his feet. He'd even tried to protect the other brats. None of the others had been up to the Emperor's standards, so they would go through the usual mind purge and retraining to become useful subjects of the Empire, but he admired this kids fortitude and guts.
The little red head, with his clear skin and red brown eyes would likely grow up to be a stunner too.

Their royal family may have to marry an Empress for breeding purposes but there was no reason why they couldn't indulge themselves with males as well.
Non concubine born childhood attendants were often given with that purpose in mind. So the younger royal had someone completely safe to experiment with while being completely disposable.
If his boy accepted his sire's gift, he could do whatever he wished with the red head. While war prizes were often kept for display purposes, few childhood attendants survived their young royals teen years.
They were a fiery, passionate bloodline and could be very capricious. Childhood attendants gave a young royal someone to vent on who wouldn't matter while still teaching important things like actions having consequences.
(The Emperor was quite proud of himself as he had one or two of his still living and they served him still. He was even thinking of breeding them with a few of the older war prizes to see what resulted. He'd have to be involved of course. His pets were trained to the point where they couldn't cum without his involvement...)

He yanked the still bound child to the centre of the cleared space and dropped the lead rope.
The red head dropped to his knees and stayed there.
(His forehead should be on the floor but the emperor let that go for now. At least his head was bowed and his eyes were properly lowered. )

The woman currently holding the baby set him down when the child indicated he wanted to go down.

The child sat for a moment and then scrabble/crawled past the flashy blond who sired him, much to the man's chagrin, and straight to the kneeling red head and clutching his clothes, pulled himself to his feet.
He tries for a pat and accidentally smacks the other in the face and winces. A baby's control of their body is pitiful. He wavers and totters before losing his balance and falling to slump over the wide eyed red heads lap.
The child cuddled into it and falls asleep there.
Once he can speak properly, they'll talk later.

The frozen red head doesn't dare move.

Unnoticed, his sire's who is still pouting over being ignored, nods his head. Present successful and accepted.
The boy will begin his training immediately.

Meantime, the infant naps for about ten minutes before waking up abruptly, using the boy to stand and pulling on him determinedly.

The frozen red head glanced in agonized indecision between babe and the man who captured him, before rising at the child's more forceful tug.

Supporting the other child, the red head stood, staying a step behind.
Well, until the little blond stopped and carefully used the other to balance as he moved behind the red head.

"Ah BAH!" The infant proclaimed, pushing on the ragged shirt/smock the other wore.
It took the red head a minute to catch on but then he knelt and helped the baby crawl onto his back.

The little blond babbled and kicked until the red head stumbled to his feet.
Now mounted, the blond held onto the other boys hair, tugging on the side he wanted his two legged mount to turn and kicking to get him to move forward.

The Emperor watched in amusement as the infant directed his 'mount' through the throng to three women... and a girl child who was barely old enough to be an attendant who had been out in the hall.
The infant had her by the hair so it was follow or have it pulled.
Attendant number two chosen along with the three women his personal attendants would come from.

The Emperor was well pleased.

Chapter Text

A Seres that only has a Familiar of her master left and has 'outlived' Earth finds herself in a new place... with her powers muted and a sad lack of fire arms.

There is Magic in this place but it's munted to all hell and gone.
She still has Pip but not much else.
This place sucks balls.
The ice demons, even if they share her undead state, are creepy as F.
Quarm had those life sucking 'immortals'. (Kill it with fire. Lots and LOTS of fire worked on them too. She drained them to nothing but didn't keep their souls.) Middle ages rules and the only place that treated men and women essentially equally was Dorne.
Everywhere else, women were breeders, traded like horse flesh and otherwise mostly decorative.

She turned Quarm into Bastard city since the people here were being stupid about such things. Any who bore that unfortunate status was welcome so long as they were willing to work.
Hell, they could even pick a surname if they wanted. All the Sands, Stones, Rivers, Waters, Snows etc got confusing after a bit.

Eventually, bearing a bastard name became a badge of honour of a sort. It meant 'everything I have I earned through my own damn work and effort', more or less. Bastard City was actually pretty prosperous.

Ceres was lonely though.
She was the only one of her kind.
She was also staying the hell away from the fire daemon priests/ priestesses.

Because she could and they reminded her of her Master, Godswoods dotted the city.
A few of them even had heartwood trees though those took sacrifices to grow.
She had a particular hatred of rape and murder.
Self defense was one thing but murder saw them watering the trees of the Godswood with their blood... if they had a bit less because she'd helped herself, who was to know... or care. Everyone in her damned city worked though.
Whether it was as a whore or a street sweeper, everyone worked.
The whores, courtesans, gleeman and rent boys were licenced, bonded and health checked.

There was no slavery either.

Raids were an invitation to free violence.
Anyone who wanted to play was on the walls or the streets.
Those who wanted to stay out of it pulled back to the underground cellars.
Survivors/ Captives where either ransomed back or turned out in the clothes they wore and a water bottle.
If they wanted to stay, they had a years probation to prove their worth and worked for the city without pay. They did get free lodging with the others like them though and two simple meals a day. As a citizen, they had access to the healers station, training in whatever trade the city needed for free, basic schooling and a sleeping space.
If they wanted more and better, they had to work for it.

There was also a bank of sorts so that funds didn't need to be lugged around or guarded closely. There was a little outside trade but not all that much.

For when she wanted to go for a wander, there was a council of guild masters and useful types to keep things ticking over.

It was a few centuries later that she heard of, then met strangers at the site of Old Valeria. They'd been here on and off for centuries, exploring and excavating the ruins.
Here, she thought, was hope of a way out of this hole at last.
The poison did shit all to them as it did to her.
She still had NO idea how she’d gotten here and she’d made the best of it, but still…
She was lonely and this world sucked majorly.
Hell, even if they’d just let her travel with them, she’d jump ship in a finger snap. (Her heart no longer beat.)
ANYWHERE was better than here.
It was a noxious toxic mess and she was done trying to fix it.

Chapter Text

You are reborn as the neglected daughter of a villain who is keeping the child male lead imprisoned. Not that you knew it for a bit, not until you learned your birth sire’s name.
You aren’t well regarded and barely make enough to keep yourself alive.
Your father is a violent sort and the boy is a trophy from a formerly well to do rival that he utterly crushed through underhanded means.
He thought to raise the boy as a loyal slave soldier but has been distracted by other issues… and the boy is resistant to mental manipulation magic and has a feel for manipulation of any sort… which is why you’re pretty sure he won’t turn all siscon tsundare on you… or worse, possessive yandere.

He will, hopefully, take it as another neglected child’s attempt to escape and live.

While dodging cliches is being mentioned…
You’d just like to say you did dodged the usual cliche of truck kun or car kun assisting you on to your new life, being zapped into it or whatever. You didn’t even die in hospital.
You aren’t even sure what caused your death… only that you had a bit of a headache when you went to bed and, when you came back to yourself, you’re a kid who has been beaten bloody.
You may or may not have disassociated for a bit.
It was the hunger that brought you back.
For a while, you’re too busy trying to survive to click as to where you are.
Hell, you didn’t even read the book. It was your sister who had found a web comic version of it that gushed all over the place about it, filling you in whether you wanted to know or not.
Now, you’re very glad she did. Any knowledge that gives you a leg up is welcome… even if it’s bad news.

You never got to read the end of the series but you had definite opinions on it since, after your sister’s gushing, you went and looked up the wiki out of curiosity.

This ML was cast as the villain of the piece but was also the main protagonist.
The ‘Hero’ was frankly, an airhead, who won through plot armour, and the main FL carrying most of the load. She didn’t heel face turn on the airhead (though you’re of the opinion she should have) as far as you know because the ML was, admittedly, hot.
The typical spiky black or brown hair worn long enough to put in a low tail, chiseled / arristocratic features and striking eyes, the dark skin of the desert people, black with hints of deep red in certain lights in his case… not that you ever saw them. The cells weren’t well lit and you haven’t seen the guy in literal years, not since he was a pre teen.
(You HAVE seen his pic in his wiki characters bio information though and damn, considering how he grew up, he turned into a lean, muscled and pretty sort. Very much a rogue though, single earring, bandana and all.)

You shared what you could, when you could, with him and shared with him that you knew you were only being kept around until you were old enough to use, either as a sacrifice or a slave (you were keeping a low profile for a reason) and were likely to die here and then asked him, when the chance came, to run and to live.

You made a promise with him that, if by chance, he got away to live however he could. If that meant doing bad things like cheating people or stealing or whatever, DO THAT… but stay alive and you would try and do the same.
He asked what if you both got away and you smiled and told him, then you would both do your bests to live.

(You’re pretty sure he’s your bio brother or half brother. Maybe a cousin.
You’re definitely related anyway and he’s a year or so older.
He has no memories of anywhere but here so he must have been very young when taken. Either his mother was still pregnant with him or he was new born to a few months old.
You don’t want to think about what that meant for his mother… and probably your mother.)

It’s been almost a score of years since then.
Bro is early to mid twenties and you’re twenty this year… now, if only this twit, who you’re sure is an Isakai or an Incarnate, would leave you the fuck alone.

The original manga series had you as a minor villainess who is more of a pest than anything else who disappears from the series with barely a sentence to describe her/ your fate.
Basically, bro bro had a tanti and you were collateral damage since you kept ‘failing’ your tasks.

That reality and timeline/ which you punted the moment you were able, had you as his oath thralled minion/ pawn.

This reality… you’ve not seen the guy since the hideout you skulked around was destroyed when you were ten odd.

You don’t have any outstanding gifts beyond being small, due to childhood starvation, sneaky, due to fearing for your life every day of it for ten years and having to steal food from the kitchens from a young age to survive and fast, from running away from your ‘fathers’ minions.
You were fortunate to have been picked up, injured, by a travelling priest and his caravan, as he recognised your eyes… which you apparently share with bro bro.
That being a trait of the wiped out line.

You’ve never seen your own eyes or appearance and you were very grubby.
Your hair is the ash y dishwater blond of the bastard who likely sired you though shot with darker brown red highlit streaks… not that any of that was recognisable under the dirt, dust and grime. You do have good bone structure though and that showed.
He took you in, had you cleaned up and educated by the female members of his order and nominally protected. You KNOW he’s got plans for you but, until you can manage on your own, you let it slide.

His plans included presenting you as an Heiress of the line and sponsoring you into the Court.
You’ll take the noble education but also circulate rumours that you likely have a brother out there and HE is the rightful Heir.
Should he be found, you are happy to abdicate in his favour as you were educated in a convent and, even with your sponsor’s aid, know little about noble niceties.

You were presented at Court at sixteen, two years late, but your learning was disrupted by a dreadful fever… apparently, another marker of the bloodline but since you were only a half, they weren’t sure you’d survive and you were slow to recover.
You did well enough but played up the delicate health angle and commissioned a search for your noble brother…

Who is boss of his own gang by this time and climbing ever higher in the underworld.

You haven’t had direct contact but you brother knows of his title, your existence and ‘ill health’ and is due to make a move any time.

You have NO idea why this hoe thinks you’re after the airhead.
In the series she fancied him, but nothing more. She was to zombified for more than that… and you have to admit, the airhead has a pretty face… he’s just got nothing between his ears outside of self entitlement and an unshakable belief that HE is the main character and is due to defeat the villain and blah blah.
He ticks all the boxes being a royal younger son, good looking to the point of bishiness, a slender but muscled build, an easy going manner (outside of his innate arrogance) and prodigious sword skills. Red blond hair, hazel eyes and symmetrical features.

FL is also quite typical being a former country lord’s daughter fallen on hardtimes, who made her way to court through cleverness, charm and beauty along with being able to make connections easily. (You envy her that much.)
Long chestnut brown hair with ashy highlights, brown so dark it was nearly black eyes, cupid’s bow lips, a slender yet shapely build. The works.

You drop a few bricks in the way of ‘hints’ before telling her that you never got to finish the series but you have NO intention of getting wiped out by ‘bro bro’ or anyone else.
You want a quiet, easy life.
Honestly, do you need to drop a few memes before she gets the hint.
You don’t know why she’s trying to adhere to the books time line so rigorously, but you’ve got NO intention of playing villainess to her heroine… and you think she could do better for herself than the airhead but whatever. You do you, hon.
You even gave her finger guns to hammer home the point.

You KNOW she’s an isekai… so are you. You just don’t care.
Let them find someone else to play ‘villain/ess’.
YOU just want a quiet life.

She almost has a tantrum over it, dead certain that if things don’t follow the ‘correct’ path, the world will end in destruction.

She is positively gobsmacked by your ‘and? So what if it does? Isn’t that even MORE of a reason to live a comfortable life while you can?’

She storms away and ‘spies’ on you. SURE that your after her man, plotting nefarious deeds… SOMETHING.

Why is it Incarnates/Regressors never think that there might be others of in a similar situation around? Or that things absolutely have to follow the ‘script’ of whatever book/ game/ manga / whatever or things would go to shit.
It never seemed to occur to them that it isn’t just THEIR decisions that can change things.
Free will exists after all and anyone’s actions can change things…

Hopefully, lil miss ‘heroine’ would get bored of it soon because you ain’t lil miss zombie and have no attachments to anyone really in this life.

You know they’ll probably marry you off, try and exile you or both… you just really don’t care. So long as you have enough money and food to get by and some human companionship now and then, this is fine.

Beyond surviving your ‘childhood’ the hardest thing you’ve faced was keeping the ML from turning into the typical Yandere/ Tsundare who was overly attached/ possessive of the female figure. You aren’t the female lead and had NO intention of becoming one.
You’re a side character and perfectly content that way.

Interestingly, both north AND south were regarded as barbarians here. It was the central territory that were the soft, rich elite. Also, in this world, it was the South that was a freezing icebox and the North that was scorching desert heat.
Just your and bro bro’s luck to have grown up in the scorching north.

(You’d never thought of that. Magical planet not Earth.
It’s entirely possible it has a different planetary structural set up right? Different magnetic field or equivalent. Different rotation and all that other jazz.
Why didn’t MORE writers outside of Pratchett play with that idea?
Even GoTs had the North as the froze part… and their seasonal cycle was seriously wack.)

Chapter Text

It wasn’t her fault and he knew she’d HATE him for doing this… but he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t let her challenge the hypocrisy of the people she’d sworn and given nearly everything to protect. Now that the demon king was dead, he KNEW what her fate would be and he couldn’t live in a world without her. He wouldn’t want to.
But she was FAR too good a person to just ignore the injustices and corruption. She wouldn’t be able to help herself and, now that her use was done, the kingdom didn’t need her anymore.
Or, at least, it thought it didn’t.
He was a Sage. He KNEW they would murder her on trumped-up charges, the people would be easily swayed and would cheer.
People were like that.
What people liked more than a Hero was to see a Hero fall.

His holy maiden was beautiful. She was still young, not even having seen her twentieth year yet and she was everything a Hero should be… and that no one else would be able to live up to. People would resent that, resent HER.
And he wouldn't have it.

He hated himself. He did. It was a betrayal of everything she stood for doing this but… it was the ONLY way to keep her alive!
He’d do more and worse than simply drugging his beloved to keep her in this world!
The deal he made was for that.
They had said (and he had a Magically binding contract of it) that if they retired to live quietly in the countryside he and his beloved would be left alone.
On their side, they were not to be called on, ever.
Since this was what the ‘people’ had demanded, if shit started happening, they would have to deal with it themselves.
This Hero and Sage were PERMANENTLY retired.
According to everyone, the battle with the demon king had taken a great toll on the Hero and she had fallen deathly ill. Her sage partner had taken her away so she could live her last days in peace and so he could try and find a way to help her.

He hated seeing her like this. Dazed, unfocused and slow… unable to even train or so much as wield a kitchen knife safely and he knew he was probably fooling himself… but he loved her FAR too much to just let them kill her.
He wasn’t even sure it was safe to have a child since they would always be targeted.
He’d changed their appearance, moved from where he’d said they’d retire to (after leaving some dummies of course) and locked away anything that might give away their identity.
For her, he was willing to throw away his studies and become a simple farmer or something similar.
She would hate this. Hate that he threw that aside… but he needed her to LIVE. Even if he wasn’t sure her current state could be called that.
It wasn’t permanent. He couldn’t bring himself to actually harm her, even if it meant the dose had to be carefully monitored and controlled.
Besides, if something happened to him, he wanted her to be able to care for herself, even if her memories of being THE Hero were locked away. In that event, it would wear off slowly, over a week or two.

When the crunch finally came, and the populous was wailing for the Hero to save them, he sneered, took his slightly dazed lady and retreated to a safe spot of his.
It had been a simple life but enjoyable in its own way and he wasn’t giving it up for some invading army of idiots.

He and his lady weren’t intimate. Doing that with her when she wasn’t in her right mind felt wrong and he didn’t deserve it for inflicting the drug on her in the first place.
Simply being with her and caring for her was more than he deserved… Having been lovers while on campaign together though, it made him miss her all the more. His well-deserved penance he supposed.
It hurt… but he could ensure the two of them could wait the idiots out and nothing had ever been said about not assassinating the other party.
Once they were gone, he could stop and allow his beloved to return to herself.
They just needed to wait this out.

She got sick… and, even though he had eased her off the drugs, she wasn’t getting better and he didn’t know what to do. It was a race between her returning wits and her failing body.
He didn’t know what it was but he felt this was planned. Someone, somehow had planned this.
He went over the contract with a fine-toothed comb but it wasn’t that… no, it was a poison that had been linked into the drugs. If he… if he should ever take her off them, she would die.
(He wasn’t naive or an idiot. Of COURSE, he’d checked everything about them. The drug should NOT be doing this and he didn’t know how they’d slipped this passed him. Right now the how and the why didn’t matter. What mattered was that his beloved was dying!)
He had a choice. He could put her back on them where she would die more slowly but WOULD die in the end… or he could allow her mind and body to become clear and fail.
Oh, they would pay for this. They would PAY.
He couldn’t tell her. Couldn’t face the betrayal in her eye from what he’d done to her.
She wouldn’t suspect, not him but…
He didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t lose her. He couldn’t!

Faced with an impossible choice… he chose a different path completely. After all, what was the point of being a sage if a person didn’t have access to even Forbidden Magics? He’d never delved into them, never needed to but for her, it didn’t MATTER if his soul was tainted or whatever. What mattered was his wife and her life… also her will, but mainly her life.
The ritual was dark, and there was a chance it would kill her but she was dying anyway. He could at least ask her what she wanted to do.

It broke his heart.
She knew.
Somehow, she knew but she still smiled at him, even if there was pain in her eyes now. Pain he’d put there.
He HATED himself… but, she just shook her head, smiled and cupped his cheek like she always had.
She told him not to hate himself or this world.
How could he not though? They were taking away the one thing in his life that gave it meaning.
Let me wake up. She told him. Let me spend my last days with you properly as your wife.

Two months. Two blissful months when she was there fully with him again… and then she was gone.
Worse, she’d wanted to see the outside just once more before she passed and he’d indulged her.
They were caught in a conflict and she was to weak to even lift her sword.
Even with his power, it wasn’t enough and they were chased over the edge of the execution ridge, where traitors and commoners were thrown after they were killed/ died.
He felt her last breath leave her even as he leaped. What was the point in remaining in a world without her?

(No one had expected him to awaken three years later as an undead, him least of all, sweep the kingdom, what remained of it, clear with his undead army and set himself up as the ruler. All of those who had been responsible for his beloved’s situation and the circumstances that killed her were wiped out… even if it wouldn’t bring her back.)

Chapter Text

The ten-year-old girl sat carefully on the bed of the boy she’d been child-married to.
He cowered in a terrified ball because she’d touched him in passing.
It hadn’t been deliberate but someone had done a proper job of conditioning him to be terrified of it.

Not good enough.

It had been a while since she’d needed to do something like this.

She didn’t get closer than the edge of his stupidly big bed (bloody nobles. This thing was at least a king single and for a tiny kid at that. Neither of them were big but they were sharing a room because it was tradition for the family she’d been ‘married’ into. It was a twin bed but they were SO big) and cleared her voice.
“Um… So, touch, proximity or… space? Um, I think that’s right.”

She waited for ten counts and when she didn’t get a response, tried again. She’d move on to tapping patterns if that didn’t work.

Just as she was about to speak again a young, slightly high-pitched voice, asked “W-what?”

“Please don’t feel bad but… I’ve seen some of the soldiers who have been to war react like you did. They’re commander said they had battle shock and I watched how he treated them. I don’t know where he learned it but his soldiers slowly got better mostly. He said people react like that when one of two things has happened. The first one is they’ve had a REALLY big shock and it scars their mind and thoughts. That happens a lot in battle. And the second one is from a person being treated in a way that will hurt them again and again and again. It doesn’t even have to hurt them a lot, just hurt them enough so that their mind equals that thing with pain.
It’s like… if you have a type of food and then get sick, your mind says ‘That food is bad because i got sick/hurt from it’ even if the food didn’t have much to do with it at all. Anytime you eat that food after, you’ll expect a bad thing, even if nothing happens and it will take three or four times when nothing happens for your mind to stop going ‘that food equals bad things.”

“Oh,” the young voice said after a bit of thought.

“So, what will help you best now? Touch, which I think is supposed to help a person anchor themselves in what is happening right here and now.
Proximity, which is what I’m doing now. That is just being in the general area so you know someone’s here if you want to talk, but we don’t have to if you just want quiet. Basically, I’m here if you need me.
Space is where I leave you alone so you can settle yourself or need peace and quiet to sort yourself out because sometimes everything happening at once becomes to overwhelming and you need a chance to calm down.”

“Pr-oximity please.”

“Okay, I can do that. Is it alright if I stay where I am? And would you like me to keep talking or would you like quiet?”

“There… is fine and please talk. Your… voice is nice.”

She blushed hard and sudden. “O…Okay. Um. You don’t have to tell me now but sometime could you tell me what triggered you (that’s what it’s called when something tips you in that state because it’s like the trigger on a crossbow. Squeeze or push it and something powerful and damaging happens) so I don’t do it again by accident.
You’re… um… my husband now and I’d like to learn about you and support you. Doing something that hurts you like that, even if it’s by accident, isn’t doing that. I’d like to know who did that to you in the first place so we can figure out how to stop it too. It’s not healthy for you and I want to be a good wife and Duchess for you. Like… hmmm. I want to be your partner?”

“A… a partner? I’ve… never had something like that before?”

“Me either,” she smiled. “But I’d like to and this is a chance for that. I’d like to be your friend as well as your spouse. They… didn’t like me at home very much, so I want it to be better here. I want a chance to make it better. Is… that okay?”

The cute blond head slowly emerged from the blanket he was wrapped and hiding in. “Mmmm,” her round-faced young ‘husband’ agreed.

She beamed back.
“Should I… keep talking?”

“Mmm!” he agreed again.

She told him all about the soldier who rehabilitated abused animals in his spare time… mainly dogs. Her dog, the one she’d brought with her, was a gift from him because she’d slipped him a few coins from time to time if he’d let her watch him do it and sometimes, he’d even let her help.
She’d introduce them when she could so her dog would know that his person was important to her.
(He blushed again… so cute.)

She fell asleep in his bed and woke up under the covers… which had HER blushing up a storm.
It seemed he was okay touching… just not with unexpected touches.
She promised to let him be the person who touched first until he was okay with someone else touching him.
That seemed to mean a lot to him.

It wasn’t hard to see where the phobia had come from.
That person who was his ‘governess’... he cringed from her and froze in instinctual terror.
That was NOT okay. Not at all.
It might be a fight to get this family back together… but by all that was Holy she WAS going to do it! They all deserved better than this.
Whatever screw over the future held, she wasn’t going to enable it but letting this ‘family’ continue to coast along in cold silence… That wasn’t something she could just let slide.
She didn't know what the future held, but whatever it was, hopefully she'd face it by her young husband's side and, together with his parents, as a family.

Chapter Text

Kagami Higurashi raised her blue eyes.
She was tired of her endless life but had learned long ago not to hope.
Her keeper, the four-tailed demon fox Youkai Kurama, was an extremely jealous creature who would not even so much share her attention. He slaughtered any who found this garden that he kept her in and Kurama was her only company… ever.
As Shikon Miko, she knew he was valuable but the Youkai usually wanted to corrupt or kill her… Kurama seemed content enough just to hold her and have her attention.

She had no idea how long it had been but she had long since ceased to rail against her fate.
There was no point and Kurama didn’t care about her unhappiness so long as he had her attention.
She was only human and she got lonely.

She had no idea how he had lived this long either but thought it might be something to do with Kurama’s power.
A four-tailed demon fox wasn't the most powerful youkai out there but he was still young to be a four-tailed fox already and cocky with it.
His power was nothing on the Western General, the dog Taiyoukai, Sesshomaru or even her dear Hanyou companion, the General’s half-brother, Inuyasha, but Kurama had survived to the four-tail stage and he was cunning, bold and charming despite his youth.

Sure, she could have purified him, or given it a damn good effort… but his band of thieves had no issue with harming humans. It was how they’d gotten her in the first place. Using the helpless villagers as bait. She’d done her best but there had been too many and they had demanded her surrender in exchange for the villagers' lives.
She’d made them sign in blood for it but then been knocked out, awoken in the garden and that was that.

After the first dozen years and being unable to escape she gave it up.
It took nearly twice as long to stop venting at her keeper but she’d had to face it.
Her keeper would never permit another near her to live. He was a greedy creature. Simply having her and holding her was an accomplishment but he wanted to be the complete focus of her attention. NOTHING was permitted to divert or distract it and humans weren’t made to be alone.
She had to surrender or go insane from the loneliness.

She had no idea of the passing of time but one of the few who had found this place, before Kurama killed them, told her the worlds had been separated.
Youkai, Spirit and Human realms were all separated from each other now. The borders might be weak in places, but humans could mostly live their lives in safety…
Even though she could barely remember her face, Kagome missed her mother desperately. She missed her grandfather and brother and even her cat. She longed to go home, or even for a small bit of news regarding those she cared about.
What had happened to the great Dog General? To Rin and Kohaku? To Kirara and her little Shippo? To Sango and Miroku? Was Inuyasha still alive? Was he okay?
She held these concerns in her heart but never mentioned them.

He kept her well enough. Her food and clothing were created from the plants that were his to command, as was her shelter against the rain, though there was never snow here. Kurama wouldn't allow it. The temperature rarely varied year-round and the only things that varied were the plants her keeper brought to add to his collection.
It was her task to tend the garden, though she felt it wasn't really needed.
So the years slipped by.

-

There came a yelping cry and a male Youkai who could pass for human fell out of the sky and crashed into her small pond.
After a few moments of lying there stunned, the wet, slightly muddy and plant-covered individual slowly and painfully scraped himself to his feet and shook a fist at the sky, letting loose enough swears to turn the air blue, before trudging out of the lake.
He obviously hadn’t seen her as he took off his shirt and wrung it, stripping water from his arms and chest with his hands.

Then, he spotted her and froze, before a blush practically burst out of him, going all the way down a VERY nicely toned chest.

Kagami realized she was staring and covered her eyes with a squeak.
It had been so long since she’d interacted with someone who wasn’t Kurama.
Even if he killed them all, she usually got a conversation in first but even so, she couldn’t bring the face of the last one to mind.
And her ‘guest’ was speaking.

“I’m SO terribly sorry Lovely. A sibling of mine has a nasty ‘hobby’ of tossing people through random portals to see what happens.
As all of us have come back safely so far, she thinks it’s fine and funny. Maybe we should have let her see the damage we’ve taken due to her ‘pranks’ but she’s just a kid. She doesn’t get it.
Anyway,” he shook himself off like a dog. “Pardon for the intrusion but would you mind if I kept you company for an hour or so? The portal will be back and automatically suck me in.”

For the first time in she couldn’t remember how long, Kagome’s eyes filled with tears.
It took longer than she liked to calm down but she finally managed to get a hold of herself enough to explain.

He took it better than she expected and the abrupt hug was both disconcerting and nice.
She’d… not been held since before… since before… and he was a total stranger who was going to die shortly.

He let her go after the waterworks stopped and scrubbed a hand through his hair, then he grinned, big and cheesy.
“No sweat Lovely. I’m a serial incarnator. Kill my bod and I’ll pop up again in a couple of decades or so. Each of my new hosts wouldn’t survive without my presence so each incarnation is actually a merger so it’s all good. This sucks, don’t get me wrong, but Foxy obviously knows shit all about the proper care and upkeep of humans. Doesn’t he know that for a human to be mentally healthy, they need more than a visit whenever their ‘owner’ has time to drop by?
Even if he’s a selfish shit who wants your everything focused on him, you’ve done amazingly. Honestly Miko sama,” He gave a florid, overdone bow, “I’m in awe of your mental fortitude and strength. Now, my arrival’s probably triggered some sort of alarm so, here,” he pulled a strange item out, pressed a dot on the bottom and dropped to sit beside her. “Have some instant tea as a memento.
I’ve heard the Japanese like their green tea. Also these,” he whipped out a few containers of mochi and dango from somewhere. “Also, this,” He dropped a small cloth over the containers making them vanish. He handed her a small paper cup and took one for himself, before pouring from the spout on the strange container he just opened.

Bemused, Kagome took the cup and held it in her hands, the smell of the tea curling up to tickle her nostrils. She tentatively moved the cloth and opened the box of mochi.
It had been so long… SO LONG. Tears came again and she thought she’d none left to cry.

He sighed and handed her a handkerchief. “Let it out Lovely. Our little Miko sama has stayed strong like the Queen she is but, you don’t have to hide it in front of me Lovely. I’ll never judge.
As the gladiators say, ‘We who are about to die, salute you.’ I’ll see you again, promise… so let the tears come, take your time and enjoy, yes?”

Kagome, her voice just gone, nodded and dutifully sipped. It was bitter but paired nicely with mochi’s sweetness. If tears flowed down her cheeks as she did, he didn't comment and they stopped on their own after a while. She appreciated the handkerchief he offered too.

Her keeper turned up about twenty minutes later and was incandescent with rage. Not only was his prize’s attention NOT on him, but she was smiling and even laughing, though her eyes were red and her cheeks had tear tracks.
The dango and the cloth were tucked away in her clothing but the mochi box was in the open with a single one left. A third cup sat next to it.

The boy, whose only sign of his other than human heritage had faint points on his ears and slit pupils to his amber eyes.

He raised his cup in the furious fox's direction as he stood to his feet and brushed himself off. “And, here’s our host. Apologies for the abrupt visit. My sister’s aim with her portals is pretty crappy. Anyway, the charming Miko sama has been keeping me company while I wait for the return portal. At any rate,” he bowed to the still-seated Kagame, “It’s been fun Miko sama. Remember, you’re a Queen so, keep your crown on straight and your chin up okay? Head held high. Until next time. Now, I need to go have a word with your man.”

The boy approached despite Kurama’s rage having him nearly shifting back into his animal form, his tails lashing furiously, a growl rumbling in his throat and his teeth bared. Around them, plant life, which was the main focus of the fox youkai's power, shifted and grew.

“Now… before you do anything messy, let’s get out of the sight of the lovely young Miss, Foxy. I’m sure she’s got enough you generated nightmares to be going on with. For someone so determined to keep that Miss all to yourself, you’re sure shit at it.”

Kurama lost patients and ripped his throat out.

Fifteen minutes later, a portal opened, sucking the shredded remains through it and there was a horrified wail from the other side.
Kurama had done his best to shred the insolent one into bloody tatters.

The insensed fox stormed away from his prize, lest he take his temper out on her.

-

Kagome started counting days, weeks, months again. She couldn’t help but hope. She WANTED to believe it.

She was right to believe it.

At roughly thirty years since then, a girl stumbled into the garden. She was fully human but deathly ill.
(Kagome was SO relieved! She'd been half afraid it was a dream after the last of the snacks were gone even if she still had the cloth.)
She spoke with that same casual insolence though.

“Hey Miko sama,” she greeted, pausing to cough so violently it left her shaking. “Haha, yeah. My bod’s pretty shredded and I figured, ‘Hey, since I’m dying anyway, there’s no point in dragging it out. Let’s go keep our promise, visit a pretty, lonely lady and go out with a bang. Assisted suicide via raging Yokai baby. The only way to go.” She raised an emaciated thumb with a wink of unique violet-blue eyes.

Kagome hurried to her and helped her sit, a burst of Purifying power rushing through the shaking body.

“Ahaha. Damn, that’s got a kick. Thank’s Little Queen. That helps.”

“What?” Kagome asked.

“Family Curse, genetic Curse… something like that. The firstborn always dies if not at then shortly after birth. Me surviving wasn’t on the books but eh, I’m a cheat. Even so, I’m in my twenties now, look like a tweenie and it's a given I'm not going to make it to my next birthday.
No regrets though.
Me carrying it like this means that my younger twin and littler brother both got married and their firstborn kids were born safe and healthy. It’s worth carrying for that and I even got a taste of the good stuff. She passed last year due to cancer and there was shit all I could do and I’m tired. So, I thought I come visit, give you my regards and some snacks and get slaughtered. I’ll give your foxy boy this, he does a thorough job with the whole messily murdered thing.
Next time, if I’m healthy, I might even try running just to see how far I get. Heheh.
So, milady, tea?”

Kagome accepted the familiar water heating contraption and a cup.
Three boxes were pulled out and a bottle of hard candies. One was quality chocolate, the second was sakura mochi and lastly, another box of dango.
There was also a strange semi-glove that appeared to be made of gently glowing silk. Outside of the glow that shifted to the pink of her purification energy when she touched it, the glove was a dove gray. It looped around the base of the middle finger, extending to the first finger joint but leaving the rest of the fingers and the hand uncovered. The roughly triangular material tied around the wrist to form an almost slave bracelet-style glove.

“That’s from my portal making ‘sibling’. She’s very sorry to you that my arrival meant getting messily slaughtered and any trauma that might have brought. This is her apology gift. She made a point of looking up my new incarnation to drop it off. No idea how she found me but eh," the emaciated woman shrugged.
"It’ll help you concentrate your Spiritual Power for if you ever need a strong burst and, meantime, stores one or two percent of your power per day. It should be good for three or four shots, depending on the build-up. Meantime, you can also store your presents in there so Foxy won’t nick or wreck them.”

Kagome accepted the cup of tea. “Please… don’t come if you’re healthy.” She asked/stated.

The body of her guest, with its illness-worn face, vibrant eyes, thin illness-bleached hair and washed-out skin looked down for a moment and then sighed. “Alright, Little Queen. If that’s what you want. I reserve the right to come for a quick, thorough death if my circumstances are bad though. Would that be okay?”

Kagome nodded.

“Alrighty then. Let’s enjoy our tea time and see how long it takes for Foxy to get here. You can practice talking and maybe even think of something you’d like me to bring next time…”

“I… music. I miss music the most.”

“Music it is then, Little Queen.”

Foxy must have been very distracted because it took him two hours to arrive and, by then, Kagome’s guest was resting with her head in Kagome’s lap.
The burst of rage aura from Kurama was enough to make the tree branches sway and whip.

Kaogme’s guest jolted awake and sat up nonchalantly.

She yawned, stretched, and fell into a coughing fit that included a small splat of blood this time.
She wiped her mouth on her hand. “Oh, hey Foxy. Time to go get messily murdered.”

A second burst of incandescent rage aura swept over them.

“Geeze Foxy, what got your tails in a twist? That’s some serious rage on. I might not even get an off-screen death at this rate…”

A third, more concentrated burst, ripped her from Kagome’s grip. As she flew away she shouted, “Remember, Little Queen! Crown Straight…”

It took Kagome a few moments to remember as Kurama bounded past her, intent on catching and destroying the figure he’d sent flying. Oh… Crown Straight, Chin Up, Head High. Stay strong until I see you again. It was a promise to return.
Kagome began to cry.

-

That person turned up again and again, somehow always managing to find their way back to the garden, despite whatever security Kurama placed around it and the fact they were an ordinary human as often as they weren't.
Sometimes they were very old, sometimes heartbreakingly young but always ready to go and always with tea, snacks and a gift.
Sometimes the gap was a decade or two, sometimes longer. The longest had been ninety-nine years, ninety-nine days and, probably, nine hours.
That hadn’t been their fault, exactly, as Kurama, thoroughly sick of them, stuffed their soul into one of his hell plants to be fed on and it took them both a while to die and to extract themselves.
After that, they provoked the disgruntled fox until he lost his temper and killed them properly.

On the ninety-ninth incarnation, something different happened. A voice, while she was meditating, came wafting to her as though on a breeze.
“Little Queen, Miko sama, if you have a choice… Stay or go?”

Kagome closed her eyes, took a deep breath and opened them before breathing a single word.

The voice came again. “Understood. I won’t appear again until the time is right. Remember…”

Kagome repeated the mantra that had become her watch phrases. “Crown straight. Chin up. Head high.” She was a Queen and she would carry herself like one.

Just as they’d both sensed, her keeper was becoming cocky and sloppy with it. Kagome couldn’t have said if it was weeks, months or years… but she had sensed it coming.

His presence vanished shortly after and soon, these plants that carried part of his will would no longer be safe for her, despite the fact they were here to both watch over and protect her and had become accustomed to her holy aura.
Kagome began building a purified sanctuary in the center.

This time, he was a tall young man with hair like an anime protagonist. It was dark, with a spiky bang over one eye, with the rest up in a short top knot, so that the resulting tail tuft sat on the nape of his neck.
His eyes were a burning blue and his clothing was also very manga protagonist. He looked like a fusion of Magical Swordsman and Samurai. A close-fitting dark jacket with a tabard over top. Leather armour in a dark green. Knee sandals with slightly loose pants in a dark colour that were barely seen between the coat and the tunic.
His belt held dual sword loops.
He also radiated energy, though she didn't think it was entirely Spiritual. She didn't know WHAT it was, only that it was powerful.

He held his hand out to her and she accepted without hesitation.

She was… she was leaving at last. Wherever they went, she almost didn’t care. She could see something outside of this garden again.
She wept with joy.

-

It took them a year on and off and she slowly got accustomed to seeing and speaking to other people again without having them die.
With him beside her, not even the strongest youkai would come near them and she slowly began to relax again.

She even got to see Lord Sesshomaru, her little Shippo and his wives (the two girls decided on it. He didn’t really get a say in the matter, though he wasn't complaining) thunder demon Soten and the bat Hanyo Shiori, who it was lovely to see again.
Sesshomaru still held the west while the other three kings were deadlocked. He had no interest in interfering with them in any way and only moved if they intruded on his territory.

Being around them helped but it took Kagome a long time to stop flinching around her pseudo son, simply because he was a fox, even if he looked nothing like Kurama.
They were furious on her behalf of course. If that fool ever turned up again, they would slaughter him for the insult.

-

Ten years they remained there while Kagome healed, mentally and spiritually, able to find and center herself again.

When she felt ready, she asked her benefactor to take her home to the human world. Being spiritually gifted, rather than using Youkai energy, it was easy for them to slip through the Spirit World's defensive measures and finally, finally Kagome caught sight of her home.

He’d timed it perfectly.

This was two years after she went through the well for the last time.

-

Her companion gave her a card for a psychologist who was accustomed to both dealing with the spirit world and with youkai fall out.
He was a member of this incarnation’s current bio family and would do right by her.

He young man escorted her right up to the building, knocked, sat her family down and explained as best he could a brief version of what she’d been through.
She’d dealt with much of her youkai fear and the fear that any who spoke to her would die but she would need time and support to adjust to being back in a modern era, the people, the language, the customs… everything. She would also need to be protected as the Shikon Miko.
Lord Sesshomaru had agreed to lend support in the form of her pseudo kit, Shippo and his two wives who would act as companions and bodyguards for her… outside of that, she needed a chance to be a face in the crowd again. She would never be ordinary, but she could become one of many for a brief period.
The firm of the psychologist he’d given her could also dispatch some tutors to help her readjust to modern life and come to terms with what was different. It was one of their specialties.
They would be honoured to help her, he was sure.
As for himself, well, she had his number. She could call him any time and he’d come. For now, he was going to explore the situation on mundane Earth and see what he could pick up.
With that, he embraced her once, excused himself and left leaving Kagome feeling bereft.

Mama treated her no differently and neither did Shouta. For some reason, that helped. Even having the pudgy, grumpy Buyo kitty around who treated her no differently helped.

-

Even so, she was NOT ready when a seventeen-year-old, red-haired Kurama turned up in front of her by accident. He was mediating between a black-haired kid with extremely powerful youkai and a short, very powerful person with a mixed nature.

If not for that person at her side, she would have frozen completely.

At a glance, she could tell what had happened now. Kurama had had to pull what her rescuer and, at this point, closest friend did regularly, to save his life. He had merged his spirit with a struggling human fetus and so was now closer to Hanyo than his former powerful youkai self. The human ‘contamination’ appeared to have done him good… but she still wasn’t ready to see or deal with him.
He might not have been directly cruel to her but she had a LOT of trauma thanks to him.
She had Lord Sesshoumaru’s protection too so she never needed to deal with him again if she didn’t want to… and, for now, she did not.
She was getting her life back together.
Learning how to deal with humans, youkai and spirits without panicking.
Beginning to become comfortable dealing with crowds and technology. Even going back to school to complete her education, though mostly online. She was still not up to dealing with extreme crowds and didn’t think she could handle traditional schooling but seeing the lectures online and studying on her own, that she could manage.
Speaking with that Psychologist along with several spiritual experts, including Master Genkai had helped a great deal too.

She thought she could do this, this whole living and moving-on thing, now.
Slowly, slowly, step by step. She could do this. She’d have bad days and periods where she backslid progress wise but she had patience. Centuries in that garden had taught her that much at least. She could give herself this. Be patient with herself as she recovered and learned and, if some of the scars never faded fully, that was also fine. They were a mark of her journey and she had time. She had all the time in the world.

Chapter Text

She is the only one who lives in that house. No one else wants to be near grandpa’s collection of oddities from around the world.
She, the reject of the family, was only to happy to live near strangeness if it got her away from her ‘family’.
They treated her terribly and it was hard to be charitable towards them when there was nothing redemeable about them. They were almost the classic fairy tail evil step family, except that there were twins, brother and sister, rather than two sisters.
That, and her father had joined the abuse rather than dieing and leaving the new wife and brats to do it.
She knew she made an easy target being overweight, having a bad complexion and growing social anxiety. Thanks family.
Going to school with her ‘siblings’ made it harder but she couldn’t afford to switch to online schooling yet and had no adult figure who would stand for her to switch.
At fourteen, schooling was still manditory, even if they were prefectly fine with her living alone none of the ‘family’ would allow her to drop out. The half sibs would be only to happy to snitch if she started skipping.
Fortunately, if you could consider it that, her health was pretty bad.
She’d never been taken to a specialist but she suspected something was very wrong with her body. Despite the fact she ate as healthily as she could her body continued to expand and she suspected either diabities, a thyroid issue or possibly Pcos. (Her periods did give her hell. They were irregular, heavy as hell, laided her out with cramps so badly her hands shook… probably vitamine deficient in something but she didn’t have enough informaiton.)
She NEEDED to see a specialist… but none of her ‘family’ cared.
She’s SO tired of this and school is a torture, it’s to be endured only.

One day, she directs a well dressed girl her age away from a side street where she knows her younger half siblings and their thugs are lurking.
She hasn’t told anyone of course. Who’d believe her. Her siblings are ‘popular’ in that way that says ‘agree with me and do as I say or you’re next on the shit list’, attractive enough and have a built in alibi in their twin. She would be dubbed a jealous troublemaker if she tried.
She knows from experience. She tried a few times when she moved up, in the hopes this lot of teachers might actually do something about it. She was wrong.
She can’t even commiserate with their other victims because that would draw extra attention from her siblings to them…
This is the only way she can actually spite them and she’s only to happy too.
They beat her up often enough, even knowing that she has no money to give them as all her bills, food money included, are direct debted and she can’t access the money.
(What money she does have, and never on her, comes from writing a few light novels she sold through a self publishing site online.)

The girl was horrified that they do that and, that she is living like that.
For her act of kindness the girl, a young mistress if ever there was, invited her to attend the school she did instead.
As it was between terms right now, her ‘savior’ agreed.
Anything was better than what she had.
She could put up with being a charity case, pet project, whatever this young mistress wanted.
Even if the other students looked down on her, at least she’d be away from her ‘siblings’.

She… missed grandpa. She missed him so much. He was the only one in the family who gave a shit about her.
He was always a little fey, a little strange and though he’d loved his children, they never understood him. Never actually listened to the tales of his travels. Want nothing to do with that house full of mementos of his adventures.
She LOVED it. Not only does it keep the rest of them away but it’s full of such interesting things.
She were never sure how much of the stories were tall tales but you listened avidly anyway.
(A lot of her ‘light novel’ ideas came from his stories and she's sure he wouldn’t mind. Such amazing tales deserved to be shared with audiences who would appreciate them, unlike his ungrateful, privileged brats… of which her father is one.
Her father may have sired her… but, with the death of her mother, anything decent in him has gone. It wasn’t even her birth that harmed Mum so she doesn't know why she is so hated. Her mother passed away from cancer and there was nothing a six-year-old could have done...
She is glad, in a way, that her father didn’t listen to Grandpa's tales. They would have been wasted on him.)
Some of them are positively unworldly.
Like the ‘fascination cabinets and tables’ the well-to-do of England use to keep to amuse and entertain guests, his collection is full of fascinating objects and keepsakes, each with a story attached and she has written up each one.
Despite this, she hasn’t been in there since he died.
There are too many memories attached and she just missed him so desperately.
Maybe… it was time to.
She just needs to gather her courage… if this shift in schools actually happens, she will.
It will be a sign to herself from the universe that things can change.

Chapter Text

Elia Martell, slung over the shoulder of her rapist and murderer, raised her head, her eyes nothing but black pits.

Quick as a striking serpent, her hand flashed to the dagger at the Mountain's waist, and turning, she thrust it into his throat, up through the underside of the jaw.

He froze, releasing her to clutch at it, gagging on his own blood as it gushed from the wound.
He stumbled to his knees and she darted around him to drag out his sword and shove it through his eye.
Slender and slight as pregnancies and the weakness following them had left her, she should NOT be able to so much as lift the blade, let alone weild it!

As his body toppled, her eyes dropped to the part that had hurt her so badly earlier.
Why not?
She sliced open his draws, cut the offending part free and shoved it into his mouth.
Then she left him where he lay.

Wrenching the dagger free, she went after the 'knight' who had murdered her daughter.

She was on him as he entered the throne room, the bodies of her daughter and the child they had brought in to keep her husband's mad father (she was not going to call him her 'good father' as there was nothing good left in that man.) from killing her, carried like to bags of produce under his arms.

She slit his throat from behind.
His blood sprayed nicely as he slumped to his knees and then toppled forward.

Her face was set into a bloody rictus as she sought her next victim.

There... There he is.
The cause of all of this along with her obsessive fool of a former husband.
Tywin Lannister.
He would DIE for what he had instigated on she and her daughter!

Jamie Lannister, killer of the mad king.
Oathbreaker.
Incestuous lover of his twin.
He perhaps didn't deserve death... exactly, but she would have vengeance nonetheless.

She stood in her ruined, torn clothes, bloody wounds from where she'd been stabbed still clear, making all in the room flinch.

The Usurper, Robert, didn't look very bold right now.
“Wh...who. WHAT are you?!”

The form was that of Elia Martell but she moved with unnatural speed and the eyes were coal-black, entirely.
There was no white of the eye or iris, simply a black pit.
The voice held nothing of Elia. All screeching, biting rage, mangled and garbled. She had been strangled as well as stabbed and raped and the things voice showed it.

“An innocent you allowed to die and die horribly simply for who my ex-husband was! There was one who shared my body briefly and, though they could not interfere with my fate, interceded with the Stranger to grant me this. VENGEANCE! A chance to strike at all of those who harmed us! Baby KILLERS. DIE!”

Tywin Lannister went down, throat ripped open as the creature whispered the fall of his house, the drying up of the Lannister gold mines and the incest of his twin children in his ears.

Jaime Lannister went down but instead of his throat, he was slit open from throat to crotch, losing one of his scrota, his face a rictus of horror, not just from the pain but from what the creature spat at him. No one should know of that. NO ONE!

The creature hissed 'Let’s see you sire incestuous bastards now Oath Breaker!”

For Robert, she sliced through his shoulders, rendering his arms useless.
Even if he healed he'd never be able to wield his war hammer again.

“That was for my DAUGHTER,” the wraith spat. “AND the boy child who was innocent of everything and wasn't even of Targaryen blood.
Oh, and Lyanna left with my fool of a former husband willingly rather than be forced into marriage with a drunken lecher like you who would NEVER have respected her.
The thought of being wed to you made her desperate enough to leap at any chance to be free, even when offered by a prophecy-obsessed fool like Rheagar!
You and her father drove her to that. I hope you're happy with yourselves!” She spat on him physically, bloody black foaming spittle.

She leaped away again, eyes seeking more to take vengeance on!

Finding the main instigators gone, the unnatural vitality seemed to leach from her, she sank down, took her murdered daughter and the innocent boy child in her arms and keened, the sound chilling, mournful and completely soul-wrenching.

More than one man still standing called upon the gods for protection.

Their eyes all seemed to fail for a moment and a cold wind, with the scent of a faint charnel reek, swept through the room and out the door. When their sight returned, Elia Martell lay dead once more, her daughter's body tucked against her shoulder and the murdered boy child's body embraced and held tightly on the other side.

None of the men could look at her directly.
Before their eyes, the three bodies broke down into dust and blew away.
How would ANY of them explain this?!!!

Chapter Text

At first it was nothing.
Simply another life set in a technologically modern, well off time, an Earth even, in twenty twenties Korea. She breathed a sigh of relief. At least this wouldn’t be too hard to adapt to.

She was born into a low, middle class very small family.
Pretty standard for her Incarnations since she had the ‘no frills’ version. She got no buffs or bonuses. No miraculous powers and anything she achieved in her various lives was done through her own efforts. Nor had she ever gotten any explanation for why she was reincarnating/ incarnating into different worlds, some she knew, most she didn’t.

For those she did, she was rarely anyone of interest and, most of the time lived her life quietly, out of the way of whatever momentous thing was effecting that world unless that event was global, then she fought to live or died to whatever with everyone else.

The first time, she’d been plowed down along with dozens of others by a car running a red light and found herself in another world, still in her fifty plus body, with exactly what she’d been waring and what she’d had on her and nothing more.
The only difference was her trans female body was bio female now… and she was still passed breeding age.
(She’d cried over that. She’d longed for a child of her own, bio or otherwise, and been denied and blocked at every pass.)

She’d never gotten the hang of what exactly made her Transmigrate to another world in her current body and at her current age and what made her Reincarnate as another person completely since she was more a creative sort than a thinker.
She’d tried listing down factors but there had just been so many worlds / variations on a world and lives by now that she’d lost count, especially since the list needed to be made afresh with each new world… and her memory for straight facts wasn’t that good. She did much better with stories and songs.
By this point she’d more or less given up and just rolled with whatever cards she was dealt with each now life/ Incarnation.

With each life, she was simply in another world and having to learn everything all over again. She actually preferred the full Reincarnations as it meant she had time to get her bearings…

Starting fresh was, as always, an opportunity… but she could have lived without the whole ‘orphaned at a young ish age’ thing.
At least her brother was a good kid (and that, right there suddenly made this worth it. She still loved and doted on children, cherishing it any time she had a chance to have or adopt her own or had siblings to care for and it pained her greatly when a child of hers /sibling was cold to her, neglected her or actively harmed her. They were her greatest weakness and her biggest joy in life… and she had absolutely NO intention of changing!).

He’d been two to her eight ish when she started taking over caring for him but he was smart, hard working and dedicated. Better yet, rather than hate or resent her, he adored her. It made her happy and she spent as much time with him as she could spare… which was all the time she wasn’t in pre/school since her parents seemed to have lost interest in them both. They’d been all for essentially abandoning her baby brother. They’d planned on leaving him home alone while they took her out to do things despite the fact he was barely a toddler and, when she wouldn’t leave him, they abandoned her too going out as a couple instead.
At least they left food or money. Better than some of her previous selves parents sure, but she still wasn’t overly impressed.

(Time that was slashed to nearly nothing after their parents died and she hated them, a bit, for that. She’d been okay being her precious little brother’s parent figure, actually having to WORK to support them both was much, MUCH harder.
She’d done it before but no one would hire a sixteen year old girl full time…)

Her name didn’t really click with her.
Was Han Yoojin a gender neutral name? She didn’t know.
It didn’t feel like HER name though.
It wasn’t like she heard it often either. Korea was an Asian country and the culture was influenced by that.
She was called by her family name, or various titles like older sister and junior or senior, depending. She honestly preferred the ‘older sisters’ she got from her sweet if slightly clingy little brother. Her name with the affectionate ‘ah’ after it was even better.
If not for her brother and for about eight of the sixteen years they’d been around, her parents, she thought she might actually forget it. That’s kind of sad, right, not being able to remember your current name?
That was part of the issue though, she’d had HUNDREDS of previous names. Remembering one more, when it would barely be used, almost didn’t seem worth the while.

(She made an effort to remember other people’s names anyway along with all the appropriate manners as best she knew them. She might be a little clumsy since her most recent parents hadn’t taught her much and each world had slight variations in the language or customs even if the names of the world or country were the same.
She’d tripped over that more than once in the beginning.

It was important as she was an unmarried young female raising a younger child, brother or not, and Korea still looked down on that. No one would care that they were orphans or siblings unless they knew of their circumstances personally.
She couldn’t afford ill will.)

Her boy though. His name she remembered. Han Yoohyun wouldn’t be someone she forgot in a hurry… She didn’t know why people shied away from him.
He was a GOOD kid!

(She DID make a note to keep an eye out for other kids being shunned the way her little brother was, even if it was uncomfortable for her the way it never was around her kid and extend a hand in their direction.
Instincts could be subdued and fear conquered and to ensure others like HER boy weren’t left to founder alone, she’d do that… She had the knowledge and the skill to regulate her instincts and emotions. Even if it was difficult she WOULD do it.

Being alone was hard.
Having blood family who didn’t value you or actively derided or neglected you was way worse so she would do her best to reach out to as many as she could.

Her Yoohyun might be treasured and taught as best she could but she doubted other, similar children would be so lucky.

It actually made her wonder a bit, thinking back on it.
What happened to her parents families? Asian cultures were very heavy on family connections and respect so where were the extended family? The parents siblings or parents? The cousins? Her parents couldn’t both be orphans right…
But she had nothing to work with and no time to poke at it so that mystery was left unsolved.)

When she went straight from middle school into the workforce, she didn’t regret it.
She wasn’t pretty, having a generic ‘face in the crowd' sort of face, but she was big and buff for an Asian girl and the part time job she’d gotten with a small moving company… Well, they were willing to take her on full time since she worked hard.

It would be nice to stop working so many odd jobs to make ends meet. It gave her a lot of experience in different area sure and she knew she should be grateful for the work and all, but it was so tiring to go from this job to the next and the next and keep it all straight as well as do domestic things for and with her boy.
It would mean a little less money but she’d manage…

(Yoohyun had already said that she could learn from his books when he moved on to higher education and he’d help her learn.
This kid. Honestly. She hadn’t been able to stop herself bear hugging him. So sweet.)

It had kept her nicely trim and toned the way hard work did when paired with simple, filling food and the Meditation/ Cultivations she used as a matter of course now even in worlds where it had no little outward effect.
It wasn’t fancy, but it stretched their money just that little bit further… and she had no pride when it came to taking charity. She was an orphan, high school drop out, with a kid to raise. She’d take any help she could get, so long as it didn’t come with obvious hooks.
Somehow, she’d always had a knack for avoiding those.
She just had a feel for the skeevy types.

She taught her boy domestic tasks, cooking included, as they grew because she couldn’t always be there when she wanted due to work and she wanted him to grow into a successful adult who could manage for himself.
It wasn’t fancy, far plainer than most Korean cooking, as they didn’t have money for much more than soy sauce and salt, and leaned heavily on the cooking she’d learned in other lives, rather than what was cultural to Asian cooking, let alone Korean, but it was warm or chilled and filling and she couldn’t ask for more than that on their budget… or lack of one. Rice was easy, versatile and lasted pretty much forever when stored well. If they had access to rice and soy they could survive. Everything else was garnish.
This much, she could help with. They were both lost causes on the social side.

Her brother was happily part of the ‘goes home’ club, not trying to make friends his age at all and she was too busy working to try and socialise. She just didn’t have the time!

That, and she didn’t like drinking.
She was a TOTAL lightweight and, plain faced or not, she was still a young woman going home alone. There was no point in making an easy target of herself right?
Her boy was relying on her to support him after all.
Yeah, she’d used that as an excuse more than once.

Didn’t like how stupid it made people behave and didn't like the loss of control she had under the influence. She never drank just to drink and had no alcohol at home. Not even for the celebration ceremonies that were meant to be carried out to honour family. Their parents hadn’t really done any of that stuff.
She wouldn’t drink at all if it wasn’t such a big part of Korean social culture. - Give her life giving coffee over beer any day!
She couldn’t really afford the good stuff and had never really learned to drink or enjoy it.
She just… didn’t like the taste of cheap booze. Most of the more expensive ones either.

If her bosses took her out for drinks she would go but she generally just bought one she could tolerate and nursed it for the night to be polite.

(She ignored the parts were they twitted her about her social life or lack there of and how they could introduce her to a nice boy.

She put them off politely since, unless the guy in question was interested in a paper marriage, she was nothing anyone scouting a wife would want.

Socially, she was one gigantic red X and nothing any husband could boast of despite her hard working, dedicated nature.
She was a large, plain faced, orphan, high school drop out with no money and a kid to raise. Even if this proverbial husband was willing to over look all of that and offer her ‘a better life’, he’d expect to be her focus completely, with her kid likely placed in a flat out of the way somewhere, with possibly a maid a couple of times a week or a caretaker to make sure the kid didn’t die.

Yeah, nah!

Like hell was she going to be one of those bitches who shoved the inconvenient relative/ kid off, in an out of the way flat, to look after themselves.
Even if doing what wasn’t doing pretty much what her parents had done, ‘out of sight, out of mind’ did NOT work for her.
Never had, never would.
Even as a noble, she’d done her best to interact with the little lives she made and took an active hand in their rearing and education where possible.
Kids needed love and support and guidelines and examples to grow up properly, her boy more than most!
She would NOT do that to any kid of hers. Never!

It might be nice to have friends or a social life but, frankly, she was WAY too busy and she and her boy were a package deal. If people couldn’t accept she had a kid who needed her, she didn’t need them!

So, any ‘match up’ offers or even group mixers were generally turned down. She didn’t need them, their pitying looks if they learned of her home life OR their opinions if said opinions included telling her she was stupid for doing it.
She did NOT need to hear that she should have dumped her brother in an orphanage and lived her own life.

Fuck that noise. Her boy was worth this and so much more!)

Her little brother had been still in elementary school when their parents never returned and she’d taken custody of him as soon as she legally could, as they’d had literally no one else to support them.
Sixteen odd and working for a living.
Well, she’d had worse and Yoohyun made it better by simply being himself.

At least their parents hadn’t left them a debt and she already knew how to live on a budget. She’d been doing if for YEARS at this point and had money put away. Their parents had left quite a bit with the meals so they didn’t have to come back. Enough for the bills and extra.
The only difference was that she knew the money would run out eventually and so moved them to a smaller, much cheaper flat and sold off everything they didn’t need.

They had a little hot house herb garden because she knew they wouldn’t be able to afford to eat out or even get take out except on special occasions.
Yoohyun tended it carefully and did varyingly well.
It was adorable to watch him at it and she helped him set up his only diary/ calendar thing that kept track of water, pruning and harvesting schedules. He got so excited when the plant sprouted or was ready to be harvested. He was always so attentive when she gave instructions and so care ful to follow them as exactly as he could.

This kid. Seriously. Sometimes she just couldn’t help but want to hug the stuffing out of him.

Things were bought in bulk and stored, clothing was brought large to grow into and so on but her boy never complained even though the food was often basic and simple. He didn’t fuss when he couldn’t have trendy clothing or the lates shiny toy/ thing and sometimes had to miss class outings that needed paying for.
Yoohyun learned how to do basic hand sewing along with the cooking and cleaning so he could alter his clothing and repair it if he wanted too. She could get him scraps of cloth and off cuts cheaply and had sourced and old, peddle, sewing machine she fixed up.

Any little corner that could be cut was.

Days off were spent looking for cheap produce and meat and then cooking up a storm so there was food in the freezer.
The large freezer was her one indulgence that she’d kept from their parents belongings, because it meant she could store so much more. Cheap meat cuts and bulk made food went in there to be brought out as needed.

Ah well, even if the work was hard and money was tight, it was also satisfying.
It was worth it to watch her brother strive and thrive.

She insisted on Yoohyun concentrating on his studies though when he wanted to also work to help. Helping with the house hold chores didn’t count apparently?
She begged to differ! Without him taking care of what he could, she would have had to try even if she was to tired and she would have done it badly or not at all..
Him doing them was a MASSIVE help.
His comment of ‘Yeah, but it doesn’t bring in any money’ pretty much broke her heart.
Eventually, she’d had to couch it as ‘I wouldn’t be able to go out and make money if these weren’t being done so you doing them IS helping me make money’ before he’d stop insisting.
Besides, if they were done, it meant, rather than having to do them, Sister could spend what little time she had with him which made a little bit better.

Yoojin was determined that he, at least, would get a good education!
He was going to BE someone, she was sure of it.
(That strange aversion people had to him seemed to have died down some once he got into highschool. Perhaps it was from the meditating they did together? His energy output was certainly less…)
It wasn’t just an overly fond older sister’s doting.
He had the drive, the smarts, the dedication and the presence. He was going to go to the top in whatever he chose to do, she just KNEW it. And she’d be his biggest fan and support every step of the way!

She hadn’t ever dated even before their parents death. Had never felt the urge outside of teenage hormonal crushes and, even then, she was simply too busy for it. She’d already been Yoohyn’s parent in everything but name and busy with her studies and then working any job she could get besides.
If she didn’t parent Yoohyun, no one else was going to, so she’d put dating to the side, despite her parents strong hints that she should find a nice boy/ let them match her already.
She wasn’t even sure she LIKED boys. Besides, it felt a bit weird with all of her extra life knowledge lurking.
With that and her current social reject status, this would likely be her only shot at raising a child this life and she found she fine with that.

She was so, so proud of him… and maybe a little overly attached. Just the teeniest, tiniest bit but proud. She didn’t ear bash people with it but she did take any chance to show off his picture and talk him up.

(She also might have, just a little, arranged with teachers to take pics of videos of class performances and the like she couldn’t be there for. That was one thing she was HAPPY to splurge for. Yoohyn’s embarrassed face was also very cute.)

Give her a break. She didn’t get to raise a kid herself often and he was such a GOOD kid.
He never got into fights, studied hard, helped around the house… she might wish he had more actual friends even if she knew he was popular in school now, or that he could take a bit of time for himself to relax, play, something but he never would without prompting.

She knew their domestic situation wasn’t great but she’d always kept them fed hadn’t she? Always kept on top of his school needs?
(She never let her boy know just how tight money was sometimes because that wasn’t something a kid should worry about. His ‘job’ was to go to school and learn, help with house hold chores and grow up to be a decent person.)

He didn’t need to worry. They were pretty well set up now and he could afford to relax a bit.
He was a kid. He should have a chance to BE a kid…
A person needed more than work in their lives. There had to be something to balance it.
(She’d learned that the hard way…)
Her boy was always so serious. He never spent any time beyond what was mandatory for school around people his age. He didn’t join any clubs or socialise and well… she worried.
He needed to relax sometimes and she knew she hadn’t been a very good example.
That had been something she couldn’t help though and he COULD.
Despite the fact she’d strongly hinted that the good higher learning facilities looked for extra curricular activities in those they considered for sponsorships her boy never really made an effort to join any.
He would if she asked him to but otherwise…

That made helping him try and learn to relax her responsibility then.

So, in her rare brakes, after the cooking was done, she tried to do fun things with him.
Cheap hobbies they could do together, trips to a park or the beach, free entrance festivals and carnivals, exercising and training together…
Well, she tried.

Don’t get her wrong, he was always willing to give it a go but she got the feeling he was just indulging her. None of it seemed to catch his interest and, when given a chance to choose something to do, he was perfectly happy to just spend time with her.

(Well, he did tend their little herb hothouse and hanging pots carefully but that was still a job.
He also typed up the ‘bedtime stories’ - actually recitations of her previous incarnations, modified a bit to be child friendly, after he encouraged her to write them up and sell them as a web based light novel series.

Did it count as a hobby if he wouldn’t do it without her and was mainly doing it for her benefit?

He told her he saw how much big sister enjoyed telling them to him and he’d help her share her stories with EVERYONE which would make her happy… and also get them some pocket money. He noticed that their parents didn’t give them a lot and she made a sad face when she thought no one was looking sometimes. Sister wasn’t allowed to be sad like that.

His story might be full of lies since he HATED her attention being anywhere but him but his reasons got him smothered in affection which he seemed to lap up, despite the stoic face. That seemed to make up for having to share those in his book, apparently.

That continued even when she began working and he was technically too old for bedtime stories and she had no time due to work. When she had a spare moment, she’d record another segment and send it to her boy who would type it out, edit it and put it up online.

On rainy or cold days when going outside wasn’t a good idea, they’d work on that or study together since Yoohyun insisted on fulfilling his promise to help her study from his books.)

In the end, she gave up on activities focused on socializing and continued with the simple exercise regime, the breathing and relaxation techniques she remembered from her previous lives they’d been learning together.

A little bit of massage as well.
Her kid is strong for his age and massage is a good way to help him control his strength. He’s as fond of her as she is of him so he hates hurting her.
He got control fast.

That may have been a bit mean thinking back, but it worked.

When he was a little older, they would meditate together, no matter the weather, to end the day and she came to love it as much as going out and doing other activities.
The familiar but new again breathing patterns were comforting and could help both of them self regulate when the pressure was on and a meltdown felt imminent.
Finding ones that suited her boy best and teaching him variations for this and that was fun.

As he’d grown, his issues with empathizing with others became more pronounced and noticeable. As a kid he couldn’t understand why ripping a branch off someone’s tree to bring her flowers might upset them and didn’t seem to take onboard why upsetting other people might be an issue. Couching it as ‘it would make trouble for older sister’ was pretty much the only thing that seemed to work as a deterrent.

After a few time of older sister needing to apologize for hime, her boy started to watch other children and adults to see what they did and take his cues from there, having to learn what others seemed to pick up innately.

Making trouble for sister was his biggest worry.

(She’d already figured he probably wasn’t nurotypical. Regular morality and social mores wouldn’t work on him.

She remembered their parents had been worried about his lack of reaction and expression.
He didn’t laugh or cry as a baby and it wasn’t until he was four or five that he started smiling back at her. Never their parents since they didn’t like being around Yoohyun but, for her, his smiles were beautiful because they were rare.

Such a solemn faced little boy her Yoohyun was.
Even in his school photos he didn’t smile but she didn’t mind because he smiled for her.

They couldn’t afford testing though and there was still a stigma attached especially with that aura of his.)

Maybe it was related to that inner energy he had?

There might not be active Chi here, or Ki, Qi or any of the other variations but there WAS something. And her boy had it. A LOT of it.
It was what was making that aura that people shied away from before he got control of it.

She doesn’t like the implications of energy like that, but tries to put it aside telling herself she was being paranoid.

He took to meditation and the low key training she used to stay fit with an ease she frankly envied but, overall, he just seemed happy for any time she could spare him.

He was more aware of and better able to manage that energy too… maybe that was why he’d gotten more popular in highschool?
Damn. What did she do to end up with such a great little brother.
(If she told him he was regularly, there was nothing wrong with that right? Nothing wrong with hugs and cuddles and casual affection even if she mainly kept it to an arm over the shoulder or a hair ruffle outside the house.)

Things went on as normal and it was fine. She thought she’d have an ordinary, mundane, hard working life this time where she got to raise a kid and live her life.

She was wrong. That inner energy, of which she didn’t seem to have a lot, probably should have been a hint. That sort of thing rarely happened without cause but she was fully accustomed, acclimated really, to being a person far from the epicenter of whatever world shaking event…

All of a sudden blue /purple door shapes made of an unknown energy that ranged from ground level to hovering at about six stories high appeared in places worldwide, which had her brain giving her a sharp and sudden poke.

She didn’t trust them one bit, for all they seemed to be doing nothing… yet. And that ‘yet’ was the important part.

She made sure to tell her boy as much. Just because it didn’t seem to be dangerous, didn’t mean it wasn’t.
Not that she expected him to listen fully. He might be a good boy but he was at that age now…
He was starting to grow and explore, shaping his own opinions and becoming his own person.

She could, at least, tell him she told him so when the inevitable shit show started though.

More than ever she kept an eye out for people like her Yoohyun. If something was coming, she wanted them to have a hand up.

She’d found six over the years in the various places around the city the many, MANY temp and part time jobs she’d taken on had sent her too, and done what little she could to ease their way, a fair paid here, a gift of food there, a hand warmer, even if none of them kept in touch, at least they should remember that SOMEONE saw them as a person. That not everyone would shun them. She hoped she’d meet them in the future.

Two of them, possibly more desperate than the others, had allowed her to keep in touch.
These two street kids she was feeding regularly and teaching meditation too.
If they could get control the way Yoohyun had, people would start treating them better and they might be able to get help.
She started teaching them safe places to get food and how to sense tense situations and dangerous areas and so steer clear of them.
They weren’t as good at it as she was, but the older of the two did pick up the knack.

She also passed on she and Yoohyun’s old things.

She’d get them off the streets if she could. If they’d go but they seemed to have the same issue Yoohyun had. Not as bad maybe, but people were still wary of them, hurrying by rather than offering any help.
(If the meditation technique of power regulation worked, she offer to teach anyone like them that she came across. Kids deserved to be kids, scary aura regardless.)

Also to be very wary of those Gates. Something about them was making their inner energy spike and she wasn’t sure that was a good thing.
She did recommend getting as far from them as possible, or themselves undercover if anything about the portals changed…

When she was able, she gave them odd jobs to do for food or coin change.
She passed on clothes and blankets. Helped them learn reading, counting and writing.
It wouldn’t be up to school standards and it was in snatched moments, but it was better than nothing. The practiced writing characters with a stick in the dirt.

If she could take them in, she would have in a heart beat… but she couldn’t afford it and knew it.
Giving them what little she could was hard enough but she was able to get them odd jobs, find safe corners for them to sleep in, buy them small things like hand warmers to give as birthday presents as they had their own pride.

She didn’t ask for their stories. It wasn’t her business. They'd tell her if they wanted her to know and not if they didn’t.

The kids weren’t related at all, you could tell that just by looking, but their inner energy was synchronous some how and they’d become partners. They trusted eachother.

It took seeing her Yoohyun and FEELING him, even with his ‘aura’ turned right down for them to trust her though.

(She made note of that. If she wanted to ‘hook’ other shunned fishies, they needed to FEEL she was trust worthy. Once she had their trust, she could teach them how to help themselves… and maybe teach their families how to tolerate, if not welcome them.
Ununwelcoming home was horrible, but it beat being on the streets, so long as the family wasn’t abusive or violent.
She could teach them where and how to find food if that became a problem… shelter was harder to find and the desire not to be looked down on would keep the families from depriving the children of an education or skimping on their clothing. Hopefully.)

It was working for her Stray test cases Little bit by little bit people were shying away and ignoring them less and, when one of her neighbours recognised the older kid as the child of an acquaintance and offered to take her in, the kid agreed, so long as her friend could also come.

It might not be the warmest of households, but at least it got them off the street and they could begin their education properly again.

They could also turn that aura back on if they wanted too.

Yoojin kept up contact as best she could but otherwise patted herself on the back for a job well done and moved on.

Yoohyun was her first priority though and neither of them had met him except in passing.

She kept an eye out but she had little time to spare and working full time, studying with Yoohyun and keeping the bills paid and the domestic tasks done ate most of the rest of her time.
Except for when work colleagues or her bosses took her out, she had no social life and that didn’t bother her.
Most days, she was too tired to care. She doesn’t need more than six hours of sleep, no, really.

Chapter Text

For a little over a year, the Gates remained dormant, and people learned to ignore them.
Most people anyway.
Business in the moving industry was booming right now as a lot of people were moving to get away from the gates. Nice to know she wasn’t the only one with the sense to be wary of them.

During that year, her Strays, for all they were found and homed now, brought to her or made contact with another thirteen like them.
She was still busy, with business having taken an up tick, but for this she’d MAKE time. The more people who knew how to regulate their Aura the better.

Her boy, busy with his own chores, homework and the occasional group study, wasn’t as aware of her comings and goings as he might have been, since he was often out too, didn’t take note.
Her Strays inviting her over regularly to help ‘tutor’ them… wasn’t that unusual.
No need to mention that this tutoring was actually in the park and consisted of exercise, meditation and the occasional lesson in whatever they wanted to learn about. He didn’t notice his old books, the ones she’d already been through, were gone either.
She taught them out of that.
She taught them what plants were good to eat or for medicine and how to make use of them.
She bought jerky and Pemmican and other long lasting foods with her. They might not taste great, but they’d keep a person going.
She tapped old connections to get them jobs that people didn’t have to be face to face for.
They’d know this crash course was working when people stopped shying away from them family, if they still had them, included.

She felt like she was running out of time and this was IMPORTANT.
Her boy might be upset if he learned of it, but she wasn’t a person he could leave people to flounder if she could help… especially children. She was weak, she knew it and didn’t regret that weakness a bit.

By the time she was twenty, the group had over fifty members from tots to teens and a few parents who didn’t understand WHY they were treating their kids this way and wanted it to stop! Ones who were either desperate or open minded enough to try even this meditaion class… especially since Yoojin didn’t charge and asked them only to pay their own way there and back and pass the word along if they heard of someone else with in the same sort of situation.

There was improvement and they could all see it.

For the street kids, knowing there would be free food at the least and sometimes other odds and ends was insentive enough to come.

One of the parents set up something like a phone tree. When she was able to come to hold another of these Meditation days/ afternoons, word was sent out and the Strays got word to those who didn’t have a phone.

Even though she was doing a good thing here and she meditated with her boy every evening, she still missed doing that sort of thing with him. Missed their training days together but school and exams was taking up ALL of his time.

She was… lonely and that was just stupid.
She had adult contacts now. Not friends exactly but desperate parents/ guardians who didn’t CARE that she was a high school drop out. Not when she didn’t charge and her methods WORKED. It wasn’t quite a social life but it was all she was going to get…
(Not that she hadn’t been studying and she was saving up to take the equivalency tests but she wasn’t quite there yet, she’d hopefully be able to shed the ‘high school drop out’ stigma soon since she didn’t want that hurting her boy’s prospects.
He was a few exams short of finishing with compulsory education.
He’d be off to high school soon and the good ones weren’t cheap. That was going to be a drain but her work was stable, her boy was a good prospect for several sponsorships and she had money put away towards it that she didn’t touch… ever.)

It felt almost like hiding a secret lover… which was also stupid but she wasn’t sure how Yoohyun would react or how to approach him about it and he was already so stressed.
This felt very much like something that could and would blow up in her face, being a ‘road to hell is paved with good intentions’ sort of situation but she couldn’t just NOT help.
It just wasn’t in her and she’d told her boy long ago and several times since that if she found others people shied away from like him, she WOULD do what she could to help them because that could have BEEN him. Almost WAS him. If he’d been an only child….

She could only carry on and hope things turned out okay.

They did not. A little after the actual date of her twentieth birthday (Koreans don’t usually celebrate on the day), her boy was sixteen and the Gates changed from cool purple blue to a fiery red orange overnight.

Most people ignored it but she had a bad feeling.
That jangle in the back of her head only got louder.

This was usually a common trope in Korean light novels and manhwa.
(That, sudden reincarnation in another world, summoned to another world and the reset for revenge / to fix what had gone wrong.)
The sudden gate thing that was, only that usually led to an invasion of some sort.
(The ‘Dungeon Invasion’ trope seemed to have petered out in this Korea though, before it could really get started.
It wasn’t just Korea either. She checked. It was worldwide.
The ‘sucked into a Video Game’ tropes was still around just not the ‘Dungeons have intruded on Earth and need to be fought/ cleared’.
Fascinating… and probably should have been telling but, well, she’d been busy and distracted.)

She just hoped it didn’t go the way those usually did, with Monsters busting out all over the place… that never meant good things for the world.

She went to work that morning as usual, trying to keep her unease to herself but…

It wasn’t just the colour, which was brighter than ever, that had changed but also the energy output. The gates had always swirled with pulsing purple blue. Now the energy, in fiery reds and oranges, leaped out of the gates like the flames they appeared to be… like solar flares from the sun’s surface.
It made her nervous and edgy. Her own small well of energy was responding to it… not a fan!

She told her boy to be on his guard today and come home early if he can.
She passed the warning on to the Strays as well. They, at least, should listen because that had happened when they were still on the street a fair bit and they could pass the word along the phone tree.

Something was coming…

She could only hope they all took her seriously. She was rarely wrong the few times she’d felt something similar.

Nor was she wrong this time out.

While on the road with her bosses, a fifty something married couple, Monsters that looked like oversized pterodactyls with fanged beaks, four limbs, wings and long, sail tipped tails began pouring out of the gate.

It was titled the Dungeon Shock later on. The very first Dungeon Break where the creatures from the Dungeons spilled out into the regular world.

It hadn’t just been the one Dungeon either.
It had been ALL of them.
Worldwide.

A lot of people died that day and more were injured. (Her neighbour was among the dead but she wouldn’t learn that for months.)

As was usual in this sort of scenario, a small number of the population ‘Awakened’ or spontaneously developed abilities instead… (Her two Strays and her boy…. Most of the Phone Tree kids too. The ones who survived anyway.)

She was just lucky that her female boss was one of them.

When a Monster swatted their moving van, her lady boss had developed a tough scale like hide and put on bulk. She was able to help break them out of their overturned vehicle as well as kill the attacking creature.

The next couple of years after that were very, very hard on the Unawakened. Those who hadn’t developed powers during the incident as there wasn’t a single sector of the city that was untouched, there were still left over monsters that had escaped the Dungeon that had made their homes in the rubble and some of the people with shiny new superpowers decided they’d much rather loot, plunder and make their own little fiefdoms rather than clear away the monsters and act like decent people.
Which… fair or at least understandable if you though about how those with high Awakening potential were shunned or mistreated previously.
It didn’t make it any easier for the people around them who were now suffering fall out though.

Power and reception both were out over most of the city and damage caused a lot of people to become stranded wherever they were.
Parks, schools and other similar emergency collection points became refuge centers. Some hospitals and supermarkets had power due to generators but not many.
There were so, SO many injured and more pouring in as the monsters that hadn’t been killed took their toll.

She was okay since she had her boy.
(She clung to him and wept? She was SO happy and relieved and he was THERE and alive and… how could she not!
It was normal to cry in relief on realising a loved one was safe. It WAS!
She pretended not to notice the damp patch on her collar where his head had rested.
Nor would she be thinking about the implications of that. Not when she could hold her boy and reassure herself that he was there and he was okay!)

Her Strays too as they’d also Awakened. Not as powerful as her boy but very, very strong. (She cried over them too, which seemed to puzzle her boy until he learned they were from the local area and she’d been their tutor as well as the person who helped get them off the streets.
The pair and a single eye each other suspiciously while she was too stressed to pay attention.)

Travel between the sectors of the city was heavily discouraged unless there was an Offensive high level Awakened willing to travel with a group and most of those not running rampant were fighting left over monsters.
Emergency teams were hampered both with the lack of communications, the lurking monsters and the Awakened brats (in mentality if not age) running rampant.

Her boy got them both home and then left to fight more and she HATED that.
Absolutely LOATHED it. It meant he’d be in constant danger even if his flames were very potent and his skin newly and strangely tough.

She couldn’t sit home. She just COULDN’T no matter what he wanted. She’d fret and worry and overthink. She needed to stay busy.
As she’d worked so many odd jobs, she had permits and licences for all SORTS of different things along with a random assortment of miscellaneous knowledge and skills.

Their apartment building was still standing and she volunteered to go door to door with the Strays since her boy was needed out on the front lines.
That meant she was in a prime position to step up and volunteer to help whatever emergency services were available.

With their sector mostly in tact except for a large swath of destruction about twelve streets away to the south, where something had ploughed through a dozen buildings bringing them down, it should be relatively safe here.

She agreed to go door to door with the Strays while her boy was out fighting, mainly to find out who was home and who wasn’t, if there were any kids left unattended, sick or disabled people and so on.

Also to empty fridges and freezers of food.
She would encourage those who could to pack a bag and any essentials, bring with them any meats or other things that might spoil and bring them down to the street. They should also pack any dry goods, water, sanitation needs and snacks if they had them and be prepared to leave.
It might seem a bit counter intuitive but emergency services would want them where they could see them and it was easier to protect a group rather than scattered clusters of people.

Besides, she had a food handling license and they may as well cook up this food before it went off. She could make shift a grill, had oil and so on.
They’d have a big ‘we survived’ cook off and they’d smoke or dry the left overs.

She and the strays were going to the next apartments over as well.
Hopefully the smell of cooking food and the noise outside might draw the attention of those she was to tired to get too.

In the interest of not having to deal with multiple apartments reeking of spoiled food, the manager was willing to let them into the empty ones.
His kid had been on the Phone Tree and Awakened, though he wasn't high level and hadn’t seen action directly.
It might be against the law but he got the feeling no one was going to be worried about the law for quite a while.

It took nearly three weeks for emergency services to get to them and most people who had trickled in had been put up in some of the empty flats.
Even without power, most people had chosen to remain in their flats… except where it meant walking up a crap ton of stairs.
The less physically able were moved to empty flats on the bottom and second and third levels.

The water was still working in eight out of ten of the buildings but it wasn't drinkable and it was cold. Several people volunteered their water filters and the lobbies of most of blocks of flats became a food/ water/ aid station.
People filled up bottles and took them back to their apartments.

She told the various brats and their families on the Phone Tree, those that had ‘em, they were welcome to head for her area in an emergency and she’d do her best for them.

By the end of the week, ALL of the local buildings had been checked and the fridges/ freezers cleared out. It was a shame about the now slightly off food but it couldn’t be helped. They rendered the meat down for their fat, each meat type in a different pot.

There were enough dry goods to keep nearly a thousand people fed, especially with communal cooking if they were careful with them. All food stuffs beyond snack/ junk foods were added to a building communal pantry with some of them like dried milk and egg powder being handed over to her since she was the person who delt with younger children, Awakened or otherwise, the most easily. She wasn’t sure how that had come about but okay?

Some people even had camping generators which were used to boil the urns or kettles.
Solar camping goods like the solar heaters and solar ovens, not to mention devices that had solar charger, were kami sent.

The local kombini had just given away their food which helped. Theirs wasn’t a very large store and didn’t have a generator. All their frozen or chilled food needed to be used up quickly and she was grateful. The middle aged counter person couldn’t get home as travel through the sectors was discouraged for now, despite being very worried about their spouse, and agreed to come back with her and live out of one of the flats while they waited.
Food, even from the back store room, was distributed between their builds, sadly not going as far as one might think.

The big cook offs had left overs that were eaten the next day and the rest of the meat was already being smoked or dried depending.

Stray kids, depending on age, were either housed with an adult or had an adult come and check on them to make sure they came down for meals and so on.

There was little news from outside that came with each new arrival/s and none of it was good.

Death tolls were said to be in the millions and this hadn’t been a city wide, or even country wide, event. No, it was global. The world as they knew it was GONE.
They wouldn’t know who had survived and who hadn’t until they had access to the death lists.

While her boy, her Strays and sometimes some of her other kids went out to fight (she HATED that. HATED IT. It should NOT be up to KIDS to keep them safe!) she liaised with the other people who had stepped up as ‘building leaders’ to make their area as safe as possible, keep the kids and residents busy and secure more supplies as well as re explore their area.

Looters hadn’t really been much of an issue as theres was a poorer area and a residential area at that so there wasn’t much there to rob. If there had been some, no one told her about it.

The nicest house in the area was the traditional little house that the Strays had lived with their guardian in. It wasn’t big and squeezed between two buildings on the top of a high hill but it was two bedroom, kitchen, bath and a center room and that was MASSIVE for inner city Korea.
The Strays had been back there and essentially hidden anything that might be valuable in the ceiling. They might need that stuff to sell off later.

Despite the frenzy of pickling, preserving and drying in the first few months (things like egg powder, powdered milk and flour were saved until all the fresh produce were used up. Even then, Yoojin put two bags of the milk aside against future need. Their littles would need that more than the adults did), they were beginning to get short on food and considering sending some of their stronger Awakened out on food runs when Emergency Services finally got to them. The train line had been buried in rubble, but the roads were still mostly clear.

There had been a steady trickle of homeless, newly homeless, injured and otherwise bereft people. They were set up in flats where they could be but the trickle hadn’t stopped and they were beginning to run out of space, even with four or five people to a flat.

The Strays home currently had eight of the more injured people in it with one person to tend them. They were checked on once a day to bring supplies as they had a kettle and the stove was a traditional wood fire sort. All they needed was bottled water, something to burn, rice and some things to add to make porridge and they were good.

The park which had already been coopted for impromptu cold storage made out of several pits with clean bins was also acting as the morge. The food stores were on one side of the small park with the body pits on the other.
Some people who had been sick had gotten sicker, some had come in injured or poisoned, a few had snapped and suicided…
There was a little over a hundred people in the ground now.
It was quick and dirty, the person was confirmed dead by one of their two residents with medical experience, even if they weren’t doctors persei, wrapped in a tarp and placed into one of three currently open holes, with a layer of dirt sifted between them before the next was placed on top.
The idea was they wouldn’t be staying there. This was only temporary so they didn’t become a health hazard.
Even so, it was very depressing for everyone.
Those who felt the need to held rites for them.

What should be late summer had turned decidedly chilly due to the weather being effected by residue Gate interference which was helpful for them as it meant the bodies didn’t turn quite so quickly. She felt for all the people being forced to live out of parks and the like though. This would be VERY unpleasant.

Some of the residents hadn’t taken their new confined, slightly starving circumstances at all well and tried to turn violent and her boy, along with the three others he’d picked up, couldn’t be there all the time. Two women had already been raped and one person was badly beaten before that person was stopped.
The were an Awakened, though a low level one and thought THEY should be in charge while ‘that brat’ was away.

They were disabused of this notion, harshly and lethally.

Her boy terrified everyone by burning him to a crisp.
He wasn’t wrong in that Korea no longer had the time or space for such people but that had still been a living person and most of the residents struggled with that, even if they also knew they didn’t have anywhere they could have held him and sending him off would have been an open invitation to have him come back with thugs or other Awakened or for revenge.

(She held her boy tight. This wasn’t FAIR. Why did HE have to carry this sort of load. Make this sort of decision! Why did HE have to go and fight on the front lines when he SHOULD have been walking on a path to bright future!
She believed he’d done the right thing and it was a tough call to make but everyone was afraid of him now… everyone!)

What was worse was there were several more Dungeon Breaks.
Apparently, people needed to go INTO the damn things to fight the monsters there and keep them at the blue stage.
She had to let her kids and the few adult Awakened, no matter their level, go off to fight… and pray they came back.
It broke her heart when they came back injured and she didn’t think she’d be able to handle it if one of them didn’t come back at all.

Despite needing all hands she’d already instigated a ‘seven and over’ rule along with forming up teams of complimentary abilities, with several lower ranked Awakened buffing and supporting one or two upper Ranked as the main damage dealers… and, once it was worked out the Gates ALSO had levels, they were NOT to enter a Gate that was A, above the level of their highest Ranked member if they were a damaged dealer, B, not to enter a Gate that was more than a leve above their weakest member’s Rank if their highest Ranked Awakened wasn’t a damage dealer. By preference, they’d have at least one Awakened with an Area of Attack skill and one healer or energy buffer.
They were NEVER, under ANY circumstances, to enter a Gate alone!
They were also to gear up, when gear started becoming available.

She instigated group meditation and exercise.
Everyone, Unawakened or otherwise, needed to keep busy and beyond the rudimentary school lessons, story times and games, there was little to do but worry. Even the resurgence of traditional crafts, those they had the supplies for, dancing lessons, music lessons and so on weren’t enough. People were feeling confined and restless and only the threat of the Awakened and stray monsters kept people in check.

(Even then, a few thought it was worth the risk and tried crossing sections anyway.
Only one or two made it back and they were injured, one of them actually dying of said injuries.)

Even if they didn’t have the energy for the exercise/ soft martial arts groups, meditation and breathing was good for staying calm and helping a person sort their thoughts.
She needed that right now… like, SO much.
She wasn’t sure why exactly, but she was tired, almost all the time.

Their various Awakened mentioned something like a blue screen, similar to that of a game interface pop up and, with that, the trope was complete.
A System interface.

She worked with their various Awakened when they had the chance to stop and breathe for a bit to figure out what their levels were, what their traits, abilities or whatever they were did and how they could improve.
The meditation circles and groups helped.

They’d even rigged up something like a sauna and had a communal bath day.
They went in three building lots with one of their Awakened with a passive ability purifying the water so it could be re used. With his help, (the guy was in his thirties and a bit of a perv, but harmless for all that. He hadn’t said anything because he thought his ability, E rank according to his interface screen, was useless. He certainly couldn’t fight with it) they managed not only a spar/ bath day but clean drinking water for all.
He might not be much use in fighting monsters with it, but right now he was EXACTLY what they needed. He was helping them stay alive.

Yoojin theorised that he might even be able to purify some poisons but they didn’t have much to test it with. Instead, she brought him some of the edible leaves and some of the slightly tainted food and asked him to try.
The ability was water based. It worked on the leaves but the results of for food were variable.
Still, it would help stretch their supplies further and she was grateful for his presence.

Emergency Services, on arrival, asked them to gather at the school, building by building for processing and for the updated death lists. They were amazed at how well the people in this section had done for themselves, both at how calm they were and how healthy they are. The lists the Officials were presented in return had names, ages, occupations and family members known to live here for all the current residents along with those actually here and those known to be dead.
That was followed by the same details for those who had strayed into the area, all neatly written out and waiting for them. It went by building and apartment number along with who was supposed to be there and who currently was.
A second list went alphabetically by surname and was separated into residents and new comers. (What, they’d a LOT of time on their hands.)
There were two copies of each with the alphabetical one being modified and updated daily as people trickled in and the apartment based one being updated weekly.
A copy of the most up to date version of both lists went with the Officials.

As the leaders who had stepped up, she and the other building heads were commended which didn’t mean much to them.

The dead were to be left where they were for now, but they did drop off supplies which was great… unfortunately, they took the purifying guy with them, which wasn’t.
They did give them a heads up about what was happening in the rest of the city and a little bit on the rest of the country.

There was no North and South anymore. Too many government officials had died, along with the two heads. Companies and Corporations with Awakened employees were stepping into the gap along with a newly formed Association called the Hunter’s Association.
That’s what they intended to call Awakened from now on.
It was gathering the various Awakened under it’s control, organising them into teams to tackle left over monsters and clear out the Gates as well as deal with the rogue Awakened.
They had some pretty strong people already… and they’d heard there were some strong ones here too. The black flame user, a terrakinetic and a few others. They wanted a word with them.

Her eyes narrowed. Some of them were LITERAL kids. Hell be damned was she going to let them be drafted!
She’d pass the word along, but if she had her way, no one under sixteen, fifteen at the most, was getting drafted for service! ESPECIALLY not through the damn GATES.
(There were already rumours, brought in by the steady trickle of refugees, of orphan kids and anyone else they could get a hold of, being tossed through the Gates or forced into the rubble stretches with lurking monsters and any who survived or Awakened being press ganged into service where they weren’t just straight up sold… No. Just… NO. Not acceptable. EVER!)

Globally, from what little they could get, the world economy and power structure had been shattered. Most countries had been hit and hit hard, much as Korea had. Some had been wiped from the map completely.
What little they knew came from ham radio users and power was still out in most places.
If anyone had relatives abroad, or even in other cities, odds on they wouldn’t be seeing them again, if they lived… for YEARS.

Traditional weapons didn’t harm monsters (which they’d already learned for themselves, thanks). It required an Awakeneds abilities or materials from beyond a Gate… of which more and more were becoming available (and they were getting quite a stash thanks to the efforts of their Awakened residents. They kept that to themselves though for when they could trade said items for food, money or other necessities, otherwise their stash would have been confiscated ‘for study’ or some other utter bs.)

Since they were doing okay, they were told they could expect a delivery of basic food, water and medical supplies once a week until things were more settled, but continue to do what they’re doing and to stay strong.
They hope to have the power back on in the sector inside of a few months.

The officials said they’d overlook the breaking entering thing since survival was a priority, it had been done with group consensus and for sanitary reasons and people’s personal property, valuables etc had been packed up respectfully and placed in storage to be claimed by their owners or distributed as their wills stated, but on the whole they were doing well. One of the best managed and least lawless areas to date.

The dead would be left where they were for now. Any new arrivals or new deaths were to be noted down and the updated list handed to an official who would arrive with the supplies.
They would leave a qualified medical officer here for the time being, please make them comfortotable. (This person was escorted to the house on the hill, despite their limp, which was currently acting as hospital and hospice. They could stay there.)

Along with the Purifying guy, four other Awakened all either teens or adults (like hell she’d just let them take the kids, even if they wanted to go and look for family in other sectors), all about C or D level according to her boy, also went with them all of them as fully kitted out as they could spare. (A Healer, one with speed boost Skill and one with a body enhancement Skill.)

The Officials shared looks, but didn’t say anything.

(One thing they noted, but didn’t say anything to her about the high number and the behavior of the Awakened in this area, with more turning up everyday. Compared to other areas, the Awakened here were almost hard to tell from the other residents. The new comers evoked the usual reaction though.

It wasn’t just the fear of the black flame weilder either.

Something was different about this lot though they didn’t take the mention of meditation groups and breathing exercises that helped the Awakened here become aware of and thus able to adjust their energy level output seriously because who would? Cultivators were something out of stories, not reality.

One of those leaving with them just stared them straight in the eyes and said, ‘So were Dungeons and Monsters three months ago’.

They shut up after that and really started thinking.
While they were slightly uneasy around the Awakened here a mention of ‘You’re leaking a bit dear,’ or something similar and the sensation dropped to nearly nothing so possibly there WAS something there.
They wouldn’t be saying anything one way or another until it could be proven though. They didn’t want to look like idiots.)

Slowly the city came back to life though it was years before the rubble stretches were cleared away completely.

It took nearly a year before there was clear travel around the city once more.

That bought in a new flood of people who weren’t overly pleased their homes had been made use of without their permission even if personal objects and valuables had been carefully packed away, clothing and bedding was laundered or hung out to air at least once a week, the apartment was fully cleaned and so on.

There was a LOT of shuffling around as people who had been stuck in their section went home, went looking for relatives and so on.
There were still far, FAR too many bereft people around though, of home, wealth, loved ones, occupation and, in some cases, health.

Looking at the condition of many of those coming in, Yoojin decided that officer had been right. Their section had gotten off VERY lightly.

Yoojin made up a LOT of goodie bags. Home made soap and so on even if the necessary fat was a bit hard to get a hold of.
She still had plenty dried meat, batches of Dampa and Pemmican (a Native American food stuff with shelf life on a year or more where stored properly) around and was willing enough to give some of the stash away, with an explinaiton of what it was and how to use it with it.
She wanted people to survive long enough until they could start living again.
Even so, she didn’t give away even a third of it. She knew this was only the first hurdle. They still had a couple of years of shortages, until the infrastructure was built up again, to face yet.

Snack foods, which had been saved for special occasions (Yoojin finally learned how to do those ceremonies to honour the dead and all the other traditional stuff properly… even if booze was a luxury… until some clever person figured out how to set up distillery to make up boot leg stuff. It was probably an insult to offer it to the ancestors but it was all they had) were more readily available.
The communal garden boxes were still tended though. Each roof top had one and part of the older kids duties were to go up, weed and water. Various veggies, root, leafy and otherwise along with some samples from their little hothouse herb garden.
Those had been quite valuable and treasured during their their year or two as confined.

People could actually go to a hospital again even if the price had kicked up due to lack of supplies so the Strays, who were strays once again due to confirmed dead guardian, had the house back… sort of.
They were stashing new arrivals there now until they could find a place to put them. Many of the flats remained empty, their previous residents property unclaimed.
People used them because there was a need and they were there and empty but it was still sad.

There was little good news beyond finding relatives and being able to come home.
There were food shortages due to farmers not being able to get their produce to the cities, having their produce trampled by monsters or, you know, not being alive to bring in their produce. With no power, fire was needed to cook so various bamboo or wooden things were sacrificed for cooking fire fuel.
With no one working to produce products, despite the sheer amount in warehouses and the like, some places bagan to run out. Learning how to make their own cleaning products soon became necessary too.
Making Pemmican, Dampa, dried meat and other similar foods became a needed skill.

Even nearly a year later, there were communal cooking fires/ grills/ drying/ smoking huts along with communal laundry days which took the newly arrived former residents back a bit but they quickly came to see the sense of it.
Power may have been restored nearly ten months in but the connection was shaky and brown outs or full black outs were common.
Some of the buildings STILL didn’t have water back, which was reason B for the communal laundry days. There were a few currently unused flats where people could come and have a shower.

Yoojin did her best to make sure EVERYONE had at least a place to sleep, clothes to ware and two meals a day and everyone was expected to contribute where they could. It didn’t matter if it was running messages, helping look after the littles, helping clear away rubble, helping with cooking or bringing water, catching rats and pigeons… not safe to eat but they could be used to make tallow for candles, soap and so on.
Lessons were still being held for school basics, along with story telling, exercise and meditation groups. Various craft groups as well.
This also weirded out the new arrivals but they’d adapt fast or move.

There was a small party when the power came back on. People brought out things they’d been saving and a street party was had, with MUSIC and dancing because people didn’t need someone to be able to play an instrument or try and sing without accompaniment now.

People could use their fridges and freezers for more than storage. Why could have music and games. They could do their OWN laundry, even if half the buildings still had cold water only.

TV’s and computers worked again. Phones could be charged even if there was no internet and no phone coverage, at least games could be played, things typed up and so on.
It was one more step back towards civilisation.

There was still a communal cooking fire as supplies were scarce and, even if they took rations home to cook, there was very little too add to the basics until the pickles were ready.
Salt, soy and oil were precious commodities with booze and the herbs from their garden boxes a close second.

The lions share of rations when to their Awakened whose appetites had also awakened in order to fuel the new demands their bodies had placed on them.

By year two, except for the shortages of this and that, their section was almost back to normal.
Internet coverage was back up and so was the phone system.

By year three it was, up to and including people going back to work, buying and selling things again and those apartments that had been free to use for the last three years needing their current resident to either pay or relocate. Legal things mattered again and the death lists were pretty much static and completed outside of accidents and Dungeon Breaks. Wills were being acted upon, bank accounts were usable again and currency had value once more.
Which meant things were about to get very tough for the Unawakened and jobless, including their assorted apartment squatting strays. Even the low level Awakened or those without combat applications would struggle.

(She knew it was fully over when the bodies were finally exhumed from the park to be cremated and sent to whatever families they might have had. The holes, even from their home made cold storage, were filled in, the area grassed over and, except for a little memorial plaque thing at the base of the wall, you’d never know anything had ever been different.)

It was a little heartbreaking really how quickly their sense of community fell apart, with a lot of people moving away, just wanting to get away from this area, the city or all of it.
The problem was, that wouldn’t help. The situation was the same EVERYWHERE. Worse in some areas, better in others.

She did her best to help the newly dehomed… again, find other places they could move to or ways they could make the rent. Others might be okay with leaving these people out in the cold. She was NOT.
Most were still being housed in the Stray’s home until they could find somewhere else to go. The Strays were staying with her for the time being which her boy didn’t like. At ALL.

Her boy had become slightly distant in those first couple of years which, okay, he was working nearly non stop along with the other more powerful Awakened… but he wasn’t trying to bridge the gap.
That hurt a bit though she should have expected it. He was nineteen now. Fully and legally an adult and there was only so much she could do.

Anwakened and a Hunting based society was normalized very quickly with high level Hunters becoming the new celebrities and corporations building Guilds of them out of their Awakened employees… all of them angling for high level Awakened overlooking the potential of the lower ranks completely.

It was found that Dungeon Breaks happened when the Dungeons became overpopulated with Monsters. They needed to be cleared out regularly.

Dungeon Shocks happened when multiple Dungeon’s broke at once or there was more than one S rank Dungeon Break.

Yay for them as it meant stability for a newly unified Korea but boo for her and the rest of the Unawakened. They were the new civilians, the new bottom level of society. Yay indeed.

And… she finally remembered what had been nagging at her now that she had the time and space to sit down and think.

In the life before this one, she had been in a world with no magic or powers but a lot of tech. Between studying, she’d watched a few Manhwa (the Korean version of cartoon format books) recap shorts. The shorts were as much time as she could afford to spend on leisure as there was so much competition and pressure from society and family to get into and stay in a good school, do well, get a good, prestigious job, make connections and bring honour to the family name. As oldest sibling, she was expected to be an example for the others...
(She’d gone her own way eventually, but she wasn’t one to turn down a free education, even though she had less than no interest in an arranged match, being very, very gay that time out.)
She could listen to the shorts while she studied or use them to give her brain a break…

This story had been one of a dozen similar ones she’d watched. She didn’t even remember the name of it. She’d only seen a single episode though as it had been a ‘taster’ compilation and she’d had no time to look up more later. She’d simply allowed Youtube to go from one to the next as she studied with her headphones in.
No wonder it took so long for her to make the connection…

It was the moving truck plus older couple that finally made it click thinking back.

That and learning her boy had Awakened as a purple-black flame-wielding, fire-resistant S rank. Even if he hadn’t shown up until the end of the episode, that was a bit hard to mistake.

She seemed to be in the place of the first episode's protagonist.

He’d been male though and a very doting older brother who’d got quite butt hurt when his younger sibling cut ties, throwing himself into danger willy-nilly, trying to develop some sort of ability so his brother would find him acceptable enough to reestablish ties.
(The Main Character having to go and do the two years of mandatory military service every Korean male between eighteen and thirty had to do hadn’t helped either. Hunters were exempted due to their already dangerous job.)

That person HAD Awakened but only after he’d fallen for ploys and plots in his desperation and hurt, got himself into debt and caused nothing but trouble for his younger brother.
Then, he’d gotten himself permanently crippled, went back into a Dungeon anyway and gotten his brother killed when the brother jumped in to try and defend him from a Monster that shouldn’t have been there, never realizing the younger brother had cut ties to protect him.

It’d taken the younger brother dying to defend him, absorbing his brother's power, killing the possibly a triple S rank Monster and getting the prize, then going back in time to sort it…

Pretty standard for it’s trope she’d thought at the time… she hadn’t expected to be living it.

She would NOT be so foolish and desperate.
Not that it wouldn’t hurt like a bitch if he cut ties, but she wouldn’t make trouble for her boy.
She would keep a low profile, dodge the pitfalls as best she could and get a job that would allow her close without putting her into too much danger… somehow.

She didn’t know when that protagonist had Awakened or how but she wasn’t taking risks.
Her boy would have it hard enough as it was!

She… wasn’t sure how she felt about this. After all those ‘no frills, no one to rely on but herself’ Incarnations, where she wasn’t even a mob character, being the protagonist probably wasn’t a good sign… If she WAS the protagonist.
That could still be her boy but even a supporting or side character was more than she wanted to be. Any time a mob was switched to the main or even side character, it meant nothing good for them and, real life or not, she didn’t see why this would be any different.

She blew out a sigh. Maybe she was blowing this out of proportion or overthinking it.

The person that usually happened to was one of her few contemporaries, also a Reincarnator, but one who had a deity Patron. Unfortunately, that Patron was a god of Misfortune and the least valued member of the pantheon… or they were right until she convinced him to go his own way for a bit and it was discovered that, without him, they had to handle their own misfortunes. Things were better for him now but that didn’t stop his ‘agents’ every main/ important character they incarnated into from getting screwed over though.

Yoojin wasn’t her though so that shouldn’t apply here right? Right?

Did this perhaps mean her endless series of Incarnations might be finally at a stop? That was a bit of a scary thought even if she never really accomplished more than what a person of her level of society would in whatever world she was born/ arrived in would normally manage.
She never had buffs or powers and, anything she accomplished, was done by her own efforts rather than because of buffs, bonuses, divine favour or whatever.
She didn’t learn faster than any other child of the age she came back to herself might.
If she was reborn rather than Transmuting, she usually awakened slowly between the ages of four and nine… provided nothing kicked her awake.
She was getting very tired…

She hoped she wouldn’t have to escalate from ‘ordinary life’ mode. Things always got so messy when that happened.
Normally, she was content to live within the rules for whatever rank, class or whatever, her Incarnate was. If society kept to it’s own rules and those rules weren’t stupid, she was content to also remain within them. If not, she escalated as society did… or didn’t if the society had completely collapsed.

If that one episode was anything to go by and she worked this right, nothing, outside of Dungeons or Breaks should. She’d have to wait and see.

As expected, her younger brother turns out to have an incredible version of these new abilities, being one of the strongest in his generation and only one of five official S ranked in Korea.

The newly formed Hunters Association made no bones about needing him… He got ALL sorts of offers but he wanted his OWN Guild and she was willing to back him all the way. He was already pulling a team around him… which did NOT include the Strays. (A pity since their abilities would have complimented his nicely. The older one had an A Rank Earth Elemental Attack Skill and the younger was an S Rank with a rare dual Awkening skill in a Mana Buff Skill and an Energy Draining Debuff. She could only sigh.)
He seemed to resent their existence and they resented his attitude towards them AND towards her. They seemed to feel he wasn’t treating her right.

The distance between them remained and, in fact, grew.
He wanted her to stay home, stay quiet, stay out of the way and she literally COULD NOT.
Yoojin needed to be needed. She needed to be useful and she wasn’t, so much, to Yoohyun anymore. He was pulling away more and more and she could see it but couldn’t stop it and wouldn’t even if she could. Her boy… was an adult now or close to.
She was a parent figure. That meant she had to let go right?
She… didn’t want to. Some parents remained friendly with their kids even through college even if at a distance…
She bit her lip though. He was already under so much pressure.

None of the kids were old enough to live independently but, since they knew her and trusted her, the government had mandated that she was now the Stray’s Carer.
It was a little odd how many Awakened strays and waifs there were suddenly in their area. Suspiciously so really.
It was also quite odd how the entire building next to hers now housed either mixed families or Awakened of assorted ages… with more coming all the time.

As it distracted her from her Yoohyn issues and she COULD actually help… she did.
Group meditations and exercising were back on the agenda for those who could or would attend, along with a free, picnic-style meal.

She knew her boy didn’t get it and likely never would though she had tried to sit down and talk it out with him, to explain but he wasn’t ready to hear it… and she probably wasn’t ready to try and understand his viewpoint either.
He disliked her attention on people other than him. He disliked how much things had changed. Disliked that she wouldn’t let him pay the bills and disliked that she didn’t want to go out and do the whole drinking celebration thing.

(She was worried it would affect his reputation to be seen with her, the high school dropout since she’d never gotten to the testing before things went to hell… things like that mattered again and also that she, currently jobless, couldn’t afford it.
The year or so of lost income on the flats had been waived since everyone was in the same boat but the following two had nibbled at her savings as she didn’t want to use whatever money Yoohyun had made. He’d need that to set up his Guild ‘cause he’d be fighting uphill all the way… looking back, she was pretty sure he’d seen that as a rejection of some kind.

It was only after he turned eighteen that she accepted a token amount by way of board… and even that was grudging. It didn’t feel right but it made him happier.

He was upset that she wouldn’t let him take care of her for a change. That she wouldn’t just stay home and safe, rather throwing herself into things all the time. Sure, she always made time for him but he wanted to be her FIRST priority… not someone she left a meal in the fridge for, despite the fact he’d grown up that way.
He wanted to be able to see her when he needed to!)

It was the first time she’d seen Yoohyun angry and jealous and she wasn’t sure what to do. She’d seen him upset before, plenty of times, but his upsets were more silent sulks and pitiful looks… but he was angry at her. That was new and and uncharted territory.
She didn’t know how to navigate safely around this and his neurodivergent behavior was more blatant than ever.

She’d TOLD him why she was doing what she did. Even couched it as wanting to make sure, that when he needed people to throw at something, he’d have the best there and waiting.
Helping them stabilize and get control was just one more step towards that.
Was it her fault if he hadn’t taken it in?
What more could she have done to help him understand?...

It obviously hadn’t worked though because he was spending more and more time away, which meant she threw herself more into helping because that, at least, made her feel a little better and was something she could do.
It was a vicious cycle.
They’d even stopped meditating of an evening together and that broke her heart.
The time was coming when he walked out for good. She KNEW it!

Outside of the groups, being the Stray’s official carer meant they were moved in, temporarily, which Yoohyn ALSO hated and that was fair. This should be his HOME, his territory.
She moved them next door instead.

Yoohyun didn’t like it but there was literally nothing else she could do.
She was their guardian now and, if things hadn’t been so totally disrupted by the Dungeon Shock, the two probably would have been living with them… up to and including doing all the festivals and rites normally done together as family.
(She’d never done them with Yoohyn growing up. Just stopped and said a prayer on the appropriate days or left a stick of incense if she could afford it, in front of their shrine and went to clean their graves with Yooyun once a year. She wouldn’t have been able to do them properly anyway. Who was going to sell booze to kid or a tweeny?)

They still owned the house that was currently being used as a homeless shelter of sorts as that had been that lady’s outright and she had no remaining family so, it was hers, along with their finances and the kids themselves, to manage.
(She hired someone to do the business side of it. It had been FAR to long since she’d done htat sort of thing for herself and her brain was still very ‘creative’ focused. She had always struggled with maths and likely always would… not that she didn’t check the final figures and keep a hard copy of everything of course, she was just happy to let someone else do all the brain hurty maths stuff while she checked the final figures.
As he was one of her strays and a low level Awakened who was both terrified of and very much admired her brother, she figured he’d likely behave.)

She wasn’t sure how she’d manage job hunting since her savings had been hit pretty hard, except for the Yoohyn stash and this especially as an Unawakened highschool drop out… and, then she didn’t have too.

She got a small stipend for doing it. Enough to live off if she budgeted carefully.
That and the board Yoohyun currently paid meant she’d be comfortable, with saving, in a year or two provided nothing changed drastically.

Also, in a bid to get more of them registering with the government, Awakened could now get a one time bonus from the government for doing so and that helped… but that was also the Stray’s money, and she wasn’t going to tap that willy nilly.

She did her best to teach him how to manage it though until he was well enough established that he could get someone to do it for him. Getting the other kid to teach him wouldn’t work and she knew better than to try…

For now, she was helping the kids go through the old woman’s stuff and deciding what to keep and what to sell. Yoojin helped them set up a budget, helped them learn how to do household chores, learn how to cook and all the other stuff she’d already taught Yoohyun.
Some of it, had been partially learn already, during those three years but being able to cook with ingredients properly on had was very different to making due because the preserves and various sorts of pickles weren’t ready yet and dried stuff wasn’t as successful as the commercially made stuff.
It was a lot easier too but still filled time until they went back to school full time.
[Make up courses for school work had been available part way through year two and were dropped off with the supplies. They were very basic and had a single set per building per school level but they made it work.
Everyone was very relieved to have the networks back up so those who had devices could switch to online learning.
Yoojin had, of course, requested on for each year level since she was caring for assorted orphans who also needed schooling. That had kept her busy, along side group meditation, exercise groups and finding places for the newly evicted, those to be soon evicted (as soon as the flat was listed, they were to leave!) to live in the meantime.]
It kept her from fretting about work and how Yoohyun was reacting.

She showed the Strays, Park Yun-Si and Kang Kun, how to fill in the new required forms each Awakened was reqired to fill in to receive their bonus.
(It had become a local ritual of sorts, for her to escort one of their sectors Awakened, now called Hunters whether they did or not, off to get their bonus and help them tweak their Skill sheet to either sell or down play abilities depending on their Rank and Skill type… and now she was doing it for her Strays.)
Little Kun, despite being an S rank, wasn’t a combat type and that meant people would probably think he’d be easy to ‘convince’.
Though she hated the circumstances, he and little Yun-Si’s Skills had shifted and grown quite a bit during the chaos years. Putting down the basics only and revising Little Kun’s S down to a high A made the pair desirable but not immediate kidnap or coercion targets.

Despite the fact the two were still kids she knew she couldn’t stop them if there was a Break in progress but she COULD limit the risks they were exposed to until they were sixteen-odd.
That was counted as old enough to decide either way.
Breaks were one thing but they were not going NEAR a Dungeon without training now that there was training and gear on offer. Not even an F ranked one.
(It had been learned the hard way that tackling a Dungeon with monsters above your rank was a fast track to a messy end. Same with Awakened. A civi or an F rank trying to hit a D rank would get only a sore fist for their troubles. C or above would probably break their hand. An E rank would feel it but would be able to shake it off easily… that had NOT been fun to learn, any of it!)

If they wanted to take the government-sponsored training she suggested they do it as soon as possible and mention that they’re a team and won’t work without the other, getting it out of the way before they had to go back to school.
And YES they would be continuing to attend school!

Would that she could say that to her boy. At nineteen and, as an S rank front liner, there was nothing she could do to stop him, so she didn’t try.
Just insisted that he use the best protection gear he could get his hands on, threatening to buy him a set if he didn’t… even angry, upset and hurt, he agreed.
That was just a smart thing to do after all.
There wasn’t much outside the Gates that could hurt him physically anymore. Through the Gates was a whole other story.

When he insisted she also use protective gear, she sighed but agreed. That was sensible too… it couldn’t be anything to noticeable though or it would get her mugged instead of protecting her by people wanting to get their hands on it.

He wasn’t happy, but agreed.

He no longer sought her out to spend time and anything she gave him had to be practical or he’d sell or toss it.
He didn’t like her spending money on him which made things trickier.

She got it. She did. He was hurt, lashing out and doing his best to separate from her and her various strays and waifs were his best excuse but still…

She tried not to push or cling but it was so, SO hard.
Instead, she tried to show him that she cared and she supported him so he’d have something to take with him, after he realized that ‘no, she wasn’t replacing him but was instead trying to ensure he had the best pool to pick from.’
She HOPED he’d realize. Her boy, despite her best efforts, still wasn’t the best with social cues.

(The Strays were doing better on that side because she’d stressed they’d need connections to get by until they could get their feet under them. They were young and there were a lot of shady people out there who’d take advantage of that which they knew from experience due to their time on the streets.

It didn’t help that both were decent looking kids and Kun was a Half. Instead of Asian brown, his hair was a deep plum colour paired with hazel eyes and slightly swathy skin.
Yun-Si was straight Korean but Yoojin could already see that she was going to be very striking when she was older. A true Korean beauty.
They were already beginning to draw unsavory attention and now they were Awakeners on top of it. Oh yes, they’d be reading any Contracts offered VERY carefully.
‘Always read the fine print, my friend. Always read that fi~ne print!’

Other than that, downplay was the word of the day. Yun-Si’s geothermal sensing and vibration detection were left off her description while Kun was registered as another A rank.
Still desirable to acquire but it wouldn’t bring the immediate unwanted attention an S ranking would. He could raise it later when things were more secure.
The Mana Drain Debuff was left off his description along with his minor sensing ability.

Yoohyun’s Awakening had been to flashy for him to hide his status and she wasn’t sure he would have even if he could.

That and all three of them had been NEEDED at the time.

Future kids though, she was determined that none of them would get within so much as spitting distance of a Gate until they were in Jr High school at the least AND they’d have full gear and training THANK YOU very much! Nor would they be attempting Gates above their level until they were legally an adult even if she had to sign up as their guardian!
The new government may be working on altering the laws to accommodate young Awakened who needed to live independently for reasons but that didn’t mean they had to be completely guardian/oversight-free!

It gave her something to focus on as Yoohyun distanced himself.

At least she didn’t have to worry about them being physically hurt now.
As A ranks, there was little in the regular world that could damage them.

She told them not to get cocky though. Elemental attacks, gas, drowning, cutting off their air, those could still affect them and people were coming back with more and more materials from across the Gates too.
A regular knife might not scratch them but a knife made of Monster Materials, or that was a drop Item… they’d be dead as fast as any Unawakened civilian and the same with Monster teeth, stingers, fangs or claws.)

When caring for the Strays, she used their grant money and the proceeds from the dead neighbour’s will, except for birthday gifts and the like. It might seem stingy but she just couldn’t afford not to.

Her boy though.
For him she bought practical gifts for combined Christmas and birthday, using Christmas as an excuse to give gifts on the actual day of his birth with a smaller token on the day everyone’s birthday was traditionally celebrated.
His gifts and everything else still came from her money and she insisted that while he lived under her roof, she would provide his basic needs even if he paid ‘board’.
He’d done the chores most of his life, since she had little to do, it was her turn now, cooking included since, when he came in, he’d probably be tired.
(Probably not a good move in hind sight. The neurodivergent don’t often take changes well. At least the little herb garden was his to tend still.)

She knew he was probably earning absurd amounts of money but was also entering a very dangerous, very competitive trade and he’d need every advantage he could get.
S ranks might earn money hand over fist, but the danger level was equal to that and he’d need equipment that could stand up to the challenge alonge with skilled people.

He protested. Of course he did. He was young and hurt and hot headed but Yoojin insisted. While he was here, for as long as she legally could, she would support him, as she always had and always would… even if she could no longer legally be responsible for his expenses.

She knew, probably better than he did, that it was going to be SO hard for him.
Korean culture leaned heavily toward respecting your elders and their experience, no matter how talented a young person was.

He was going to have it rough, so she used much of the savings she’d put aside for his higher education to buy him basic equipment that he wouldn’t think of… poison detection and deflection gear. Hair ties that wouldn’t snap if tugged on (he liked to wear one on his wrist to tug at when he needed too) that sort of thing.
His combat gear might be the best since he was out there, fighting on the front lines as only he could do but he often forgot the simple things. Socks and jocks that could stand up to wear and tear like a S class would put them through.
His favorite unscented no-wash shampoo/ conditioner and so on.
Little things to let him know he was loved for more than his S rank. Korea needed him, sure, but he was human too and deserved to be treated as such.
Hunting was too important.

(She wished she could remember more of that recap episode but it didn’t go into anything beyond the MC’s life and how it had gone down the toilet, his failed relationship with his brother and the extremes he’d gone to to fix it. No useful information on Guilds, ranks, leveling or anything else. She wanted to know who her Strays would be safest in joining dammit!

She wanted to say she could entrust them to her brother’s care but she couldn’t. He was too young, stubborn and butt hurt right now for it to be safe.)

He couldn’t blame her if she got as many pictures of the two of them together as she could and used every opportunity to let him know she cared and would always be his biggest supporter.
(No, she did NOT care that she was making this harder for him. She might understand WHY he was doing it but hell be damned if she was just going to let him walk away thinking she was OKAY with it. She was NOT and would NEVER be…)

Perhaps that was why he cut ties with her as soon as he was financially able…

Her farewell gift was a set of Items with all the Resistances she could find in the highest Rank she could afford along with a set of infused cookware. She was sure he’d get better later, but she really had the feeling he’d need these and she was making a point.

He took them without a word but he took them and that was enough. He didn’t acknowledge her ‘stay as safe as you can’ and shrugged off her farewell hug… at least he’d allowed it?

Her boy wasn’t one to bend his neck to anyone, not even her really and most of the big players wouldn’t take kindly to that.
His skin might be S rank tough, able to walk off pretty much anything the regular world could do to him, but that wouldn’t save him from things they could sneak into his systems.
Drugs, poisons, Curses (those were a thing now), etc and she had NO doubt that the fat cats would do whatever they had to in order to bring him to heel… including targeting her which is why she wasn’t trying to fight the distance he was putting between them but rather doing her best to get him properly kitted out.

A few days after the date of his twentieth birthday, her boy left her for good… and she Awakened as an F rank.

Chapter Text

Raised as the little sister figure to the protagonist in a harem manga, despite their lack of blood relation, she feels NO attraction to him or he to her.
Convincing his bitches of that is another story.

The Plot™ attempts to induce the usual ecchi shenanigans but she doesn’t respond to the prompts. She’s HAPPY as a younger sister figure and perfectly content for him to go off with his hoes.
She expects him it give her a heads up if he’s going to have sexy times with one or more of his girlies as she does NOT need to see that.

If he falls through the wall of the hot spring through some contrived stupidity, she doesn’t screech and slap him but rather throws a towel at his head to block his sight and another at his crotch because, again, she doesn’t need to see that. No sibling wants to see another's bits past the age of six or seven.

Should he land in her lap or something dumb, she’s more likely to lift his head, wiggle out and drop it again or poke his forehead until he moves.

It’s even more annoying when the horde expect her to just go along with their brother-focused mindset… because THEY like him so very much and she lives with him so she must too, right?

Wrong. Ew. That’s her brother. Yes, he’s okay looking but still, brother. BIG nope.
That’s like saying that because the thot’s live with some of their own male relatives, some of whom don’t have a bio relationship to them, they must also want into their pants? See? Gross!
Even if she DID end up getting dumped in one of his ‘adventures’, she’d STILL think of him as her idiot, somewhat of a doormat brother.
End of story. Now please shut up.

She does her best to avoid getting dragged into hair-brained schemes, plots, spying and outright sabotage that goes on among his groupies.
She’s neutral and completely uninterested in them. She doesn’t have any particular one she likes best and thinks they’re all stupid and her brother is an idiot for indulging them.
He should kick ALL of them to the curb. Fan types never do ANYONE any good.
He’s just too much of a ‘nice guy/ doormat’ to do it.

She isn’t abusive towards him but she has no sympathy either. If he didn’t want the issues that go with, grow a pair and uninvite the vamps.
Having them squabble over him like dogs over a bone isn’t going to do anyone any good.

Worse, the hoes take up space in HER INN that she uses to make a living out of. They don’t pay rent, they don’t help out with the work and they eat all the food!
She has two workers who live there but they actually contribute!
If the bitches paid for their rooms, it’d be one thing but they don’t. They seem to think that just because their target is there, it should be fine if they are too and she’s NOT having it.
Either HE evicts them or SHE will, via local constabulary.

He can see she’s serious about this and he’s sorry for troubling her.
His response is to move out to a different inn.

Little sister is deeply unhappy about this but understands why he’s done it.
He can visit, but until he gets a handle on the stray cats, he can’t live there anymore… even though she’s happy to keep stuff for him.

The Innkeep of his current inn is MUCH less tolerant and they either hire a room or buy some booze or they get out.
Now that they can’t freeload it’s not as much fun, but some of the brighter ones are beginning to realize just how much trouble they’re causing for their crush.

It isn’t until he buys an item that makes him invisible to those who don’t see him as a person that the rest of them start to get the point.
They might think they love him, but they’re mostly just troubling him.

Since none of them can see him under it, he moves back home and life continues as usual.
He disengages it when he’s on a job, but otherwise.

(Yes, he knows this isn’t really dealing with the problem.
No, he doesn’t care. While he doesn’t want to hurt them, he can’t have them causing trouble like they have been either.
Typical doormat comedy harem protagonist!)

Chapter Text

When Mycroft was twelve, Eurus was ten, Sherlock was seven and Sherringford was four the ship the were on went down.
Three of the four children were retrieved but Eurus wasn’t the same after. Herri had been her favourite. She’d liked to poke him and make him react. The brothers spent a lot of time doing their best to keep Eurus from doing the little boy permanent harm but they missed him too.
Herri, despite his intelligence, had been a sweet boy and they weren’t going to give up on finding him.
He, instead, is taken in by a family who finds the amnesiac little boy and gains a new brother who reminds him of someone… Jim Moriati isn’t sure what to make of his new little brother but he can keep the F up despite being years younger even if he’s still entirely too moral so that’s fun.

Shift

Luke was in his twenties when his troublesome older brother popped up again, gushing about his new ‘toy’ and how he was being all boring and caring about his flat mate more than he did Jim… he’d even unearthed the institutionalized sister to use against him.
She’d been neutralized by the older brother though which was inconvenient. Now Luke was stuck with the job of distracting his oh so psychopathic older brother who was a terror when bored.
They’d hammered out, rather painfully, a set of rules and agreements between them which basically boiled down to ‘stay out of my business and I’ll stay out of yours…’ which his older brother occasionally crossed over anyway when bored.
To be fair though, so did Luke… or rather, Q- Quartermaster and head boffin of M-16 in Her Majesty's Secret Service as well as main wrangler of the walking WoMD that were the double O series…
And now Jim was entirely too fascinated.
There wasn’t much that would trigger Q’s genuine anger but threats against his homeland and his Agents were two of them.
Q was really very clever, if less chaotic and Jim didn’t want all of his devices infected with something that would take to an ethics lesson on every link or click.
As good as he was Q was way ahead of him on that front and Jim almost always forgot how annoying his revenges were until he was suffering under another of them.

Now, how to keep the three very dangerous psychopaths from tearing the world down poking each other.

Meeting the object of his brother’s fascination and his ‘flatmate’ was purely accidental and so was being ‘kidnapped’ to meet the ‘British Government’.
Also, apparently, his birth name was Sherrigford Asclepius Homes and Jim’s current object of fascination was one of his bio siblings.
He had three… even if Eurus was again in a mental institution and all of them were high-functioning sociopaths/ psychopaths.
No wonder he’d had little issue wrangling the double O’s.
His siblings, all of them, were the equivalent if slightly less murderous… except for Jim.
Being around them was just like home.

Chapter Text

As she was coming up to the tavern where she was supposed to meet her new teammates? Party members? Group? Whatever, she heard a familiar, slightly obnoxious voice as she passed under the window.

This wasn’t a high-class place. Well, it was for the town that had grown up around the adventurer’s academy since it had a window in the first place… but it was a window that used shutters to keep out the weather, though magic kept out the bugs.
(It was a regular quest for baby mages in training to touch up the magic to keep the insects out of the building. Training chores like this were a way for the poor and the commoners to make their way as they didn’t have family or a sponsor to cover the cost.)
The opened shutters did nothing to stop the voice from carrying over the noise of other parties meeting up after graduation to begin their first official quest.

She was… iffy about her supposed party members but she hadn’t had many offers and two of them were from the same village as her, though she wouldn’t exactly call them friends… annnd they’re proving it now. She’d known she wasn’t popular and they likely didn’t want to rock the boat after having been accepted into a likely rising team with some of their year’s popular kids… but still, chore doer/ monster bait? She thought not.

She shouldn’t be surprised, she supposed. They’d been a little too ‘friendly’, too eager to have her on board when they’d mostly ignored her existence or sneered during their school years. Even so, she had to admit that listening to them describe how clever they were to bait a weakling like her into joining them and now they had both someone they could toss all their annoying chores and stuff at as well as someone they can throw at the monsters to bait them if it comes to that, grated.
At least the inevitable fuck over happened NOW before it could get her killed.

She turned quietly on her heel to head back to the Adventurers Guild House and withdraw her name from their Party list. If that was genuinely how they thought of her, they could just manage without her.
She was sure they’d pick up some other starstruck patsy, but, well, it would NOT be her.

She’d go with her first plan of transporting goods for merchant companies. It was hard for people with her sort of Magic to find a Party just after graduation and no one was allowed to solo adventure straight after graduation. It was with a party or not at all. She’d only been willing to do a Dungeon Crawl with a good party behind her… and that party, sadly, for all they had the potential to be decently powerful, weren’t good. At least, not for her.

If this was going to be a ‘banished and better for it’ trope, she’d rather cut to the chase and skip the suffering before the screw over. It meant they wouldn’t have a chance to see how much better off they were with her in tow, but she honestly didn’t care.

She has the Support Magic of boosted storage. It wasn’t an infinite storage box, but it was still twice to three times the capacity of other newbie Adventurers who normally need two or three ‘porters’ to carry their equipment, food, etc and, of course, and loot.
She has a few other small odds and sods she can do but has never publically listed because she’s a cautious sort now, except for when she can’t afford to be… so no one knows of those and her status window is her own private business. If anyone else ever catches a glimpse, it will NOT be because she showed them.

She’s trying for quietly competent, but young brat’s gonna brat, and the flashy and showy always draw attention, even when all they are is two-thirds flash, one-third ability. Also, because they’re young and dumb, they’re still in the ‘flashy must mean strong’ mindset. The appreciation for quiet competence likely won’t show up until they’ve matured a bit… and had some missions/ quests/ whatevers go fubar on them.

She’s nothing to prove. She wants as quiet a life as someone with her ability (which she was careful to understate, making it seem she’s only slightly better than average) can have.
Merchants will not only pay better, but it would be safer too, so she was going with that.

She’s been told her friend is alive in this world somewhere and would very much like to meet her again. Even with the inevitable screw over having a Deity of mischance, misfortune and ill luck as a Patron inflicts on her, her friend has always stood by her once they recognise eachother as another reincarnate who gets little choice about who, when and where she incarnates too.

Meanwhile, she has nowhere to go back to and has worked hard to get through school, using up the money her mother’s small inheritance has left her to do it. She’ll quietly make enough money to live on and to cover expenses if something unexpected crops up, travel around and see if she can’t find her friend.

She has no wish to get into a confrontation with her might-have-been-party, so she simply leaves a letter at the Guild reception should they bother to ask.

She’s gone with the merchant cart before that party even realises she’s not coming.

When she returns several months later, she is unsurprised to hear that party not only had a major tanty over her not only leaving but choosing to leave that way (and someone leaked her letter to the producers of the newsletter) with only a letter left at the desk to break it off, but also that they managed to get several members, including her village mates (is that even a term?) injured and the porter forced into early retirement due to having a lost limb due to being left for dead on their first quest… They WERE warned about sticking to the newbie quest until their party properly gelled, but well, young and dumb. They wouldn’t be told.
Good riddance.

Chapter Text

Okay, this guy was obviously a ‘Murim, modern world version’ protagonist which meant there’d be annoying female figures who couldn’t do a thing themselves but were arrogant enough to believe he owed them something and send their poor bodyguards/ male relatives after him to get beaten up/ killed and idiot males who’d try and take him on to prove their ‘top dog’ status, get beat and then go running to their family/ bosses to try and take him on/ out.

For a peaceful life, she needed to steer clear of him… unfortunately, she was his ‘childhood friend’. At least she’d been a decent one rather than a leach or a bitch.
And she’d never had designs on him so there was no tension in the family over whether she’d wed him or make a good match with him or whatever.

It was just she and her father, mother having gone back to the main family with her brother, and she hadn’t been heard from since.
Father cared for her in a distant way but he was usually busy working and so not a big part of her life.

The Protagonists family and semi taken her in, he felt more like her brother than a romantic interest and she genuinely cared for him… but she wasn’t going to get in his way.
He obviously had a destiny and, if these things ran to form, would steam roll anything in his way.
Family, who were not all that supportive, included.

His father, the one who had taken care of her and made her part of the family, had been involved in an accident and was badly injured.
His mother wasn’t a bad person, per se, but she was busy caring for his younger siblings, twins, and the two took a lot of her time and energy.

Where the issue was is that his rather bitchy, snobbish younger sister who ‘married up’ to an older husband who gave her all the monies… but none of his time or attention she was a second wife and he already had an heir, had come to help ‘care’ for him.
She snapped and sniped at everyone, flaunting her wealth and rubbing it in their faces.
There was a lot of tension between bitch and mother and bitch and brother.

The only reason he was tolerating her presence at all was it was helping with the hospital bills and she KNEW it.
She was just doing her best to spread the misery as, since she was so unhappy, she felt he, who had been content with his middle class wife, kids, job and life, when he could have been a rising star, should be too.
The bitch absolutely loathed her, since she wasn’t even family!
She doted on the twins though and offered to sponsor them so long as the parents turned over legal authority to her… So far, it wasn’t happening but her toxic presence was turning perfectly good kids into little, entitled, monsters.

Protag had escaped to her quiet little flat a lot as that hurt him a bit.
He’d quite liked his younger siblings and the bitch had turned them ont he rest of the family more or less… except her brother who wouldn’t tolerate her bullshit and shut her down regularly even from a wheelchair.
Problem was, he was in an out of hospital regualrly and so wasn’t always there.

The bitch wasn’t actually living with them, thank goodness, as their small house was far to plebian for her tastes… but she was still around often enough to be an issue.
Money talks and she was doing her best to sideline Protag’s mother in the twins life.
She seemed to hate Protag since he was almost her brother’s mirror image at that age only he took after his mother in looks.

The 'siblings' were in their first year of college and eighteen odd. The bitch had been complicating their lives since they were twelve and the twins were three.
They were both glad to get far away from her as they’d both gotten full ride scholarships. She in computer sciences and he in ancient history and medicines.
The bitch had offered to pay their way if they’d study what she wanted them to but they both turned it down. They wanted nothing from her…

Unfortunately, the bitches ‘niece’ aka, the husbands younger daughter also attended this campus and was quite the queen bee. Bitch, mark two.
Aaaaand she was shaping up to be annoying female contender number one.

Protag was grateful his childhood friend/ pseudo sister was more sensible than silly and definitely NOT a bitch.
She was also more inclined to avoid confrontation were she could and handle things herself where she couldn’t.
She didn’t need a male backer to deal with things. A bit of blackmail here, a few rumours there, a slipped bit of information in that corner and suddenly, those focusing on her had other things to worry about.
She wasn’t a Cultivator, and had carefully stayed that way, but she knew enough self defence to ensure she didn’t need rescuing that often and was careful not to put herself in risky situation.
It gained her a bit of a reputation as boring and a nerd but she didn’t care.
There was enough drama in her ‘home’ life to be going on with. She didn’t need more at school.

Neither of the siblings were legal yet, not fully, and so both were staying with host families… hers was arranged by her father, who seemed more stressed and frantic the few times she’d heard from him, but he was proud of her.
His younger sister and her family.
She hadn’t married up and her husband wasn’t anyone particularly important but somehow, her teen son still had an attitude… their rules were a lot more restrictive than she was used to as well. Far more so than for their son though whether that was because he was their actual child, male or something else she didn’t know.

Apparently, the younger sister had gotten it into her head that because she was raised without a mother she must be a wild child who needed ‘taming’ back into a respectable young lady. After all, just look at her chosen area of study… She’d never get a man that way…

Like she wanted one? She’d chosen what she was good at and what she felt she could make a living off of, what’s wrong with that?
She wouldn’t be marrying for security or advancement… or even compatibility. While she liked kids, she wasn’t going to put herself into a situation where she was struggling to care for a child with a non supportive or even not present partner… or alone. Done that before, it sucked, would not recommend, not doing it again if she has any say…
If she had a kid now, or even got into a relationship, it would be with a partner she was committed to and with and who WAS a partner to her.
She wouldn’t be doing so without decent capital behind her either.
She might want and love kids, always, but any child she had she also wanted them to be raised in a situation where the family wasn’t struggling. She wanted to be able to devote the attention and care a child, or a partner for that matter, needed on them.

As such, she had no issue with the edict of not having any boys around, being back by a certain time outside of late lectures or classes and they wanted to know about those ahead of times and the expected her to keep them up to date if she was with any form of study group…
She was expected to help with the house work when she was around too and manage her own expenses, clothing, laundry etc.
For this she got a roof over her head, access to bathing and laundry facilities and breakfast along with a portion of the evening meal set aside if she wasn’t back in time. She was expected to eat with them when she could. She could manage that.

They were bemused that she was still learning how to work a mobile phone and how to navigate her new laptop. Both were gifts from her father and only had professional numbers in them, outside of their families. Next to no apps either. The phone was on a prepaid plan and her father agreed to pay for it until she was legal adult. Her living expenses as well, such as they were.
She knew how to be frugal and live cheaply. She’s done this before.

Her hostess was, apparently, very disappointed at her lack of feminine clothing and that there wasn’t a single brandname among them. The only even moderately expensive part of her wardrobe were her boots, which were steel capped, came up to her ankle and pretty much everything proof. They’d been gotten secondhand and were a bit scuffed now but well worn in and comfortable. A lot of her stuff was secondhand or gifts and she was fine with that. The scholarship paid for her books and the college app let her into the platform for lectures, timetables, library bookings and so on.
She only had to tolerate them for another two years before she was legal and, if worst came to worst and she really couldn’t stand it, she’d ask Protag if she could room with him.
She didn’t care about reputation or lack of it as she was here to study, no more, no less.

As far as she was concerned, her mother’s family had abandoned her and could go hang. There was a reason she went by her father’s name only.

Protag was staying with the mother’s younger brother who was a sensible guy and not married yet, not even courting much to family disapproval, but Protag mentioned that he was unlikely to ever do that. He was a man whose first love was his passion and job, that of the main designer of a online security firm.
He was very, very good at this job, but it left little time for anything else in his life… including housework.

In exchange for taking over the domestic chores, protag would be allowed to live there though he’d have to handle his own food expenses and cooking.

There was a drinking party to welcome all the new comers but she was able to bail out early due to the curfew her host family had on her.
She noticed Protag wasn’t staying either. Okay then.

Her hostess is a bit bemused to see her back early ish but after having introduced herself and her major and after everyone started getting drunk, she saw no reason to stay. She had a curfew after all and she’d agreed to their rules.

Oh dear. They hadn’t meant it like that. She’s going to need to sociliase if she wants to make good connections and find herself a well set man. (She tunes that bit out completely)
They’ll give her their number and, if something like this comes up again, they’ll expect her to let them know when she’ll be out late and what time she’ll be coming in. Didn’t she socialise at her father’s house at all?

Nope, she was too busy being semi adopted by her best friends family. Her father had been rarely home and it had been the neighbour’s who’d mostly raised her.

Yes, they’d heard about her hanging around some deadbeat…

Er, no. She was hanging about her brother in all but blood who got a full ride, same as she had, and studied hard to get here, just like she had.
It’s possible her hostess had gotten mixed messages from that… person living in the area. The younger sister of the father to that family is living in the area. She is a second wife who married up and her husband doesn’t spend anytime on her. When the father had an accident, she came to stay to ‘help’. She helps with the hospital bills but is generally unpleasant to all believing them beneath her. She especially didn’t have time for the neighbour’s kid who was ‘freeloading’... or the older son who looked like the wife she didn’t like, considering her brother to have married down.
The two of them decided to work hard and try for early graduation to escape that.
Neither of them have caused trouble and both of them have generally kept their heads down and stayed out of any power plays.

The parents seem bemused as though they were expecting an untamed wild cat and, instead, gotten a house cat who didn’t eat much, didn’t make a fuss, took care of her own business and was an excellent mouser besides.
If anything, they found her TOO quiet.

She never stayed out overnight, always let them know if there was going to be a late class, quietly took care of her own domestic affairs, doing her small amount of laundry in the washer dryers on campus, finding her own way home and basically not causing any trouble whatsoever.
She studied hard, kept her head down and socialized very minimally.

If it wasn’t for her hostess insisting on buying her some feminine clothing, she would have had a total of eight outfits she mixed and matched along with necessary outter ware (coat, hat, scarf) and underware (enough to last a week and a half, in case of accidents and four for above the waist), along wifth one pair of winter pj's, one summer nighty and a pair of summer sandles.

As she had no interest in fancy shoes or handbags (her tote doubled as purse, backpack and book bag) she now had one set of cute, low cut sandshoes and a pair of sneakers along with three pairs of fashion socks, two sets of leggings, three fashionable dresses and accessories (her hostess was horrified that she used no jewellery, perfume or make up and all her clothing were practical and sensible mostly in dull, muted colours), two cute button up shirts, two short sleeved T’s with shoulder cut outs, one lone sleeved T and several pairs of flattering pants.
She drew the line at skirts and the dresses needed to be adaptable to day and night ware too. A summer pj set joined her nightie and her hair was trimmed and styled.
She did accept a pair of white dress sandals that went with all of the dresses and matching handbag.
There would be times she’d need to make a good impression and dress the part.

Time rolled by and, as expected of a Protagonist, her former childhood friend was swarmed by the stupid needing to prove themselves and air headed females trying to latch on.
He was grateful for her calm, undemanding presence and she was grateful to be able to hide out at his place since the brat didn’t like the fact his parents were comparing the two’s behaviour and finding him wanting, despite there only being a few years between them.
It was awkward and she didn’t like the way the brat was watching her lately. She didn’t trust him not to do something stupid and the fall out that would happen. She was careful to take her shower before he woke up and to never be left alone with him.

Her hostess was quite disappointed as she was hoping for someone she could do female bonding things with and, while their homestay listened well enough and was mostly obedient, she could tell the young woman didn’t care about any of the things she was trying to promote.
While her manners were nice enough, she didn’t care about fashion, make up, nails, hair, socializing, boys, climbing higher in society or anything else her hostess felt a young woman should.
She took no pride in domestic tasks and the only thing she was even halfway interested in was cooking so she could feed herself whens he moved out. Even then, she was after cheap meals she could make a lot of and freeze rather than fashionable food or recipes.
She wasn’t even looking at any of the boys sharing classes with her and seemed to have no interesting in even getting a boyfriend.
She was so serious all the time, rarely went drinking to relax and, outside of the required chores and shared meals, kept herself to herself.
Nor was she interested in tapping them for anything other than living space and the occasional meal. It was almost like living with ghost...

Things rolled on in this state until word came that her father had been killed in an accident.
She only has a few months until she’s twenty, and by now the standard modern Murim protagonist weirdness has been inflicted on the Protagonist so he’s not around as often, but she asked if he’d come back with her for this, and he agreed.
There is a will to read and arrangements to be made for the funeral.
If shit was going to go down, which it ineveritably would… a side effect from being in close contact with the protagonist and male lead, the she wanted to go in packing heat… and you didn’t get much hotter and dangerous than protagonist.
She wasn’t looking forward to the drama but at least protagonist would be there to curb stomp it.

As expected, it there was drama. SUCH fucking drama.
The estranged mother, who was apparently from a Family, and her now quite prideful and haughty little brother turned up, to ostensibly ‘retrieve her for the family, now she was of an age to be useful. Be grateful’.

Um, no. They weren’t there for any of the important parts of her life so fuck them.
She’d rather suicide that be used for whatever they wanted to use her for… and protagonist was there to make it stick.

Other than a few odds and sods, everything went to her… and her custody was left to the father of the family who had done most of the raising of her.

The hostess was extremely disappointed and so was her husband as they’d expected more, being one of the deceased few relatives.

What more did they want? He gave them money, keepsakes of their parents and grandparents and that was it. His assets had been liquidated, with them getting a third as thanks for allowing her to live in their house, even if they’d benn paid for it as well, with a few trinkets going to friends or workmates and the rest, including most of his money, to her.
Her new guardian was holding the majority of it in trust but she got a generous stipend.

(While he was there, protagonist may have fixed his father… just a bit and paid off what was left of the hospital expenses and then paid back all the funds the bitch had supplied all at once… and that was after she’d commented on how useless and low class he was.

Now that he was healthy ish and they owed her nothing, she was ‘encouraged’ to take her toxic self off and get lost… and dont’ bother trying to bring her husband in on it. He was already aware and wouldn’t make a move on her behalf. Only the twins would miss her, but things would be changing a great deal now that uncle was back in business.

She could hardly wait.)

Ex mother and brother made threats and swore to get the decision overturned but she steps up and tells them she’d rather be dead than go back with them so they can just take themselves right back to wherever they came from and stay there!
They didn’t want her before. They don’t get to try and horn in now. Get lost and she never wants to see or hear from them again.
She rejects them, their name and anything to do with their family…

Protagonist helped her make it stick.

There was only a month or two to go until her year officially turned over and she was twenty so she just needed to ride things out for that long.
She asked for and got permission to move into the dorms as it was closer to the school.
As…welcoming as her host family had been, she knew her odd hours had troubled them and, while she’d miss the homecooked meals, the convenience of not having to report to anyone but herself was what she was really looking forward too.
Not having to be on company manners all the time would be lovely but she didn’t mention that.
Her stipend is raised a little now that she’ll be having to fend for herself food wise with the rent and utilities of the dorm coming out of her fees.
She added two sets of ‘interview’ clothes along with professional ‘interview’ shoes and underware and left it at that.
She’d have to come up with some other excuse not to stay as long during ‘social nights’ but she’s sure she could come up with something…

That sorted and with uncle in charge of the majority of her inheritance, she went peacfully back to student life, while the protagonists crazy continued on track.
She had few more incidents due to being his friend but mostly her college life continued a pace…

And then he took over the world, because of course he did… in usual Modern Murim style, this world was a small world tucked inside of a larger world and not high up on the scale of importance, anymore than ants were to humans. Lovely.

She could only facepalm.
Well, at least it got both aunty, the bitch and her mother’s family off her back AND convinced them she had no designs on the protagonist.
She was unsurprised to be drafted to help manage one of the businesses he set up but the pay and conditions were good, the work was fulfilling and she could be helpful to him and the family who raised her even if he should leave and emerge into the greater world beyond their own.

This was fine.

Chapter Text

Fresh from the trauma of surviving in a Kirigakura produce village, second Mizukage version, where all orphans that were Chakra compatible across the country were drafted for the academy and service in Victory Fucks Shinobi vs corps, she is twitchy and hyper vigilant as a child.

That. Had been DEEPLY unpleasant.
A Shinobi vs was bad enough but adding Victory Fucks where, outside of training matches, once a person reached a certain rank, age regardless, the loser was literally raped by the winner for all to see and witness… and, if they were from the same Village, claimed by them.
Not that they told the orphan or non Clan kids that. They needed SOME sacrifices for the meat grinder after all.

It seemed whatever entity was behind her ‘jumps’ was growing impatient or desperate with her lack of desire to do anything more than live a quietly comfortable middle-class life.
She’d been a noble before, had high status blah blah blah… and, honestly, wanted none of it. She’d done her best, but it was far more trouble than it was worth. Fame, fortune, riches; she’d experienced all of them in varing amounts. Would gladly skip over that if given the option.
They sucked. The pressure, the expectations, the lack of privacy and care… nope. Other people could HAVE those and keep them. She wanted none of it.
Enough money to live on comfortably, a space to make over as her own, occasionally a spouse and children, her art and sometimes a pet. That was enough for her!

But nooooo, whatever moved her along wanted her to tap the wealth of potential within her. Wanted to push her to MAKE something of herself. To finally step up and take her place as a next-level being… they just couldn’t seem to fathom that she did NOT CARE about that sort of thing. She was HAPPY with a quieter life.
They kept dropping her in situations where ‘if she just endured for a bit, her ending would finally unfold… or some such’.
The thing was, why would she WANT to ‘endure’ when death would move her along to the next vs?

Would she like to stop being shuffled on? Sure but NOT if she had to suffer in misery for however long before-hand.
Besides, she had a friend who also incarnated relatively regularly as an agent for a misfortune deity… she had the SHITTIEST of luck with incarnations when she wasn’t on the job and was pretty much the young woman’s (she was Kim this time out and could live with that) only real friend. It wouldn’t be fair to ditch.

In this Incarnation she came to herself around four or five and, as the years rolled by and nothing dire happened, her hyper-vigilance slowly died off until, at twenty odd, she’s living a normal ish life in St Louis.

She had a normal ish up bringing, except that she was an ‘oops’ baby and her father ‘did the right thing’, marrying her mother. They divorced when she was seven or eight and she grew up on his alimony deposits which saw her serious self doing her best all the way through school and into higher education.

She wasn't particularly artsy this time around, sadly, but she HAD picked up a hobby using things left from a grandfather or great-grandfather. She wasn't sure which. One that didn't need her to be particularly art-minded to do it. Stone tumbling didn't as a rule and, if she tended to give stone-based gifts, well that was just a quirk of hers, wasn't it.

She was all set for a normal, civi life.

Then the Vamps came out of the Coffin, Therianthropes (commonly called weres) abound, dead raising is a viable carrier option for those who can do it and the supernatural is everywhere.
Her mother, in her early fifties (you’d never know it now that her mother was a cougar who had enjoyed ‘innitiating’ her young tutees in adulthood by using her own body to relieve them of their V cards… though she never went for anything younger than seventeen. She’d been on her eighth student when she slipped up) did NOT cope well.
She wasn’t religious or anything like that it’s just the scare tales being reality wasn’t a world she could live in.
She had a breakdown and is still currently in care.

The young woman visited her once a week out of duty.

The majority of the alimony money stashed away for a rainy day has been diverted to that instead and her father stopped it a little after she finished her college courses.
She’d been able to skip a few years early by starting at a higher grade when she moved schools as her mother moved from the home she’d shared with her spouse to a smaller, cheaper apartment on the other side of the city.
They’d always lived in the area but not in St Louis proper but they’d moved from the outskirts to actual St Louis itself.
With that, fast tracking (where a middle school student can make an early start on specific college subjects) and whatever classes she could pick up during the summer, she’d finished at her small local college by nineteen and was settled into a small medical lab.
She wasn’t anyone of importance. Just the building janitor… but it let her go anywhere she wanted in there at one time or another.
She could probably have gotten a more important job if she'd wanted. She had the grades for it. But she appreciated the variance on the job as well as the regular hours.

She lived in a small townhouse apartment by herself, was amicable but only distantly friendly with her colleagues and had settled in for the wind down of a mostly civilian life…
Even with the weirdness now out where everyone could see, she kept her head down, stayed quiet, did her job and lived her life.
She went to work, came home, socialized as minimally as possible with her coworkers, socialized a lot more with her guild while Larping, visited her mother once a week, the family storage once a week to indulge in her other hobby and, barring illness, kept to this routine like clockwork.
Nothing to see here folks.

It wasn’t to be.
At twenty three she was vaccinated with the rest of the staff. They weren’t told for what exactly.
She was sick for a couple of days and was still feeling off when she went back to work.
It wasn’t THAT hard to check the boss's computer for what they’d been dosed with.

Well, fuckity.
Werewolf juice. They’d shot the staff up with the werewolf ‘vaccine’... only she’d gotten an ACTIVE dose. Fuckity fuck fuck.
All of a sudden she felt like checking HERSELF into nuthouse because, all of a sudden, if she was reading the signs right, it was about to be HER problem.
She’d been infected and was transitioning into a werewolf.
This was not avoidable. She WOULD become a wolf.

All she could do was fall back on the training of previous lifetimes and start with the meditating and the emotional control excercies… though she’d never been particularly expressive in this life. The nice people called her stoic. The less nice called her an ice bitch or similar phrases.
They’d never know how true they were now.
She needed to research.

They’d also never know what she did in her off time, though she’d have to be VERY careful not to shift her visible habits in any way.
She’d gone exploring in her gap year, or rather, half year.
She’d picked up Larping to get her stamina and skills back up to scratch. Her group was fantasy-based and she was neat, small and fast. A scout and fallback archer.
(Her inner pupper would love it, she was sure.)

She’d also lucked out in the fact that great grandpappy’s stuff was still in storage along with grandpa’s. Lappidary machines, sifting pans and trays and, more importantly, silver smithing equipment. And, from the sheer amount of stock in there and the slightly oversized forge and tools, it wasn’t jewellery silver smithing the man had done.
There were arrowhead and small blade molds in there. Shot, dart heads, caltraps and needles as well.

Last life, as an orphan from a small village, her Chakra coils hadn’t been large enough for much, so she was relegated to Healing and what little Seal Work Kiri had.
dHer weapon of choice had been Senbon. And what was a Senbon but an oversized, double-headed needle?
She wondered how hard it would be to make her own molds…

(She’d been grateful at the time. Medics were oo valuable to offer up for Victory Fucks. Most Villages stuck to the adage of ‘do NOT piss off the Healers as it might well be the LAST thing you do… while the Leaf, with their front line Healer added ‘Because those who heal you know best how to take you apart!’

Even so, the Healers had their own situation. They never got to pick their own mate or even breeding partner. No. Kiri was all about trying to produce the strongest bloodlines to serve the Village. No, they were matched with the strongest the Village had on offer… and quite a few took the opportunity to vent their misdirected ‘unhappiness’ about Healers and Seal Workers being able to skip over the ‘initiation’ rank Victory Fucks started happening in by being rough with their breeding partner.
After all, the Village, Kage and Council didn’t care HOW the girl got pregnant, just that she did.
This, of course, led to several 'accidental' deaths in the field as the Healers weren't above getting their own back. The stud/ breeder had made their deposit and the next generation was secured. They were unneeded after that.
You'd think people would recognise the trend but nope and so the stupidity continued.

Fuck that noise. She took a Jutsu through the chest, shielding the person she’d been healing up on a battlefield.
No one had to know she saw them coming with plenty of time to move.
After all, she was just doing as had been demanded of her… if the arsehole who ordered her there caught it in the throat, that was just a bonus, right?)

Her investigations wouldn’t even draw attention as she’d been studying all she could find about Were folk, Vamps and whatever other supernatural beings had crawled out of the woodwork as soon as she'd heard about them.
Information is ammunition after all and she believed in being as prepared as she could, even if she didn’t have the reflexes to do much.
For instance, a tazer might drop a human, but a were, even in their base form, would just be pissed off.
Their sense of smell and ability to sense another Werefolk were very impressive… and that would be an issue.

A little investigation showed she did NOT want a bar of the new ish female pack lead.
She was toxic poision and into forcing those who SHOULD have been in her care into x rated acts… and then taped and sold them.
There was bitch and then there was BiTcH! She was the second and the newly infected young lady would NOT be getting involved with that pack while she was there.

She considered going anyway and just being small and quite but spiteful hoes like that spread their poison over ALL in reach, especially if they appeared weak.
Her pupper would need companionship though. No, she needed to be removed soonest.
Phosphorus rounds with silver nitrate chasers and an explosive charge. Silver/Iron cuffs or bindings and do NOT let her wake up or think.

She was glad she wasn’t a leopard. BOTH of their leaders treated them like shit and were even WORSE than the bitch.
Still, not her problem.
The bitch, however, was. It would NOT be safe to reveal herself until that one was dead.
AND she would need to do it herself.
She might not have made it to Chunin (Too dangerous except for specialty Nin who were too valuable to risk.
Unless they were claimed by someone strong, a Chunin’s arse - fucking the cunt risked pregnancy and those needed to be planned and sanctioned unless it was Mission Born, was up for whoever could claim it.
Jounin were respected because they’d managed to survive through that to reach the rank… even if it left them fucked over mentally and emotionally.
Clans usually sacrificed a few of their sponsorlings or Outer Clan but the inners were usually kept Genin until they were strong enough to make the jump to Jounin) but she’d had the skills for it.
She knew how to stalk a mark, even one that was likely stronger than her.
She knew how to hide or mask her scent and she should probably do it as soon as possible, before she was distracted by making contact with and teaching her inner pup.

B and E was an option, but that slag would likely be hyper aware unless she was gassed.
The best assassination are those that don’t look like it so at her day job would probably be best though she was likely to be most distracted at her other ‘job’.

The young, to be huntress would need to do some test runs to find the best time for it…

She almost ran out of time and it was NOT as clean as she would have liked… but the bitch was dead and her Alpha, despite his personal feelings, was hunting her killer.
The young woman did not mind. If she was tracked down and died well, she’d just be moved along but she could NOT tolerate an abuser in power over herself.
A pity she could not do the same for the kitties… ah well.

The Vampire Master of the City was a child vamp and as crazed as she was sadistic.
Lovely.

NOPE. While that… thing ‘ruled’, she was staying under cover.

It had been an accident when she came across the abusive scum who had the leopards in his ‘care’.
A Larping weekend had gotten cancelled at the last minute due to supernatural bs and a couple of bodies… which he no doubt had something to do with.

She’d been taking a last run through the forest for her girl when she found him.
He was a brute and a monster… and she could not stop herself putting an explosive round through his throat. And his head. And his heart. His limbs at the joints. His groin… that was shot several times. Throat first would keep any incidental noise down at least.
The rest was shot with silver nitrate.

She had NO idea why she’d found him unconscious in the woods, but who was she pass on such a chance.
She also may or may not have burned the body to ash.
It likely wasn’t fair to the leopards, but it was SOMEthing at least…

Curious that a bunch of Masters and Werefolk were coming down with a bad case of dead. Still, not her circus, not her monkeys.

For now, she was content to train her inner pupper and keep her safe until seeking out the Ulfric (wolf pack leader) wouldn’t equal a death sentence. Fortunately, she was no one of importance and would BE no one of importance. She just wanted to join the pack in order to socialise her pupper.
It was just as well that being able to compartmentalise was still a skill she had and she could literally put the information of her deeds out of her mind so no lie would register.
Her pupper’s emerging had been welcomed warmly and encouraged rather than fearful… though she knew her golden wolf (yeah, that had shocked her too) was lonely, despite her person giving everything she safely could.
The wolf was, despite being young, rightfully terrified of the Master of their City and willing enough to keep her head down until the danger was over.

A year or so later, when the dust had settled a bit and the Executioner had done her thing, and the young woman was willing to make a move.
She and her girl had done okay for themselves. They really had but…
Her girl was lonely, and fair enough. It was the rare wolf that become a lone wolf and it was even rarer for said wolf to be a she.

She’d been ducking into and out of Guilty Pleasures, the strip club that blatantly had werefolk performing, for years as it was as close as she dared get.

Now that the dust settled, she booked a private dance with one she was pretty sure was a wolf (don’t get her wrong, the leopards were equally as gorgeous but she needed a wolf today).
She didn’t even let him get started because she wasn’t here for her. She was here for her Sunny pup.
She released the locks she had on her wolf allowing her to the surface and asked if she could just talk with him. She’d keep her hands to herself but she needed to know. Was it safe now to come out into the open? Was it safe to finally come out to the pack? She’d heard such terrible things but with all the killings that had happened… It was a terrible time to get a bad dose…

The guy blinked and his face went pale. She’d been ALONE for three years.

The young woman nodded. She’d done her best to make sure her Sunny pup self was welcomed and wanted, ensured she had somewhere safe to go to transform on full moons and done her best to make Sunny a happy pup… but the rumours were terrible and it just wasn’t SAFE.
She had no partner, not Alpha or pack to help and Sunny wanted one, badly.
They would also like to lose their V Card and they’d like someone who knew what they were doing to be their cherry picker.
She didn’t doubt the hardworking lads in this Club knew their way about a body, male or female so, if outside dates were allowed, she’d be very grateful if he could ask around to his co workers to see if someone wouldn’t mind initiating her. Preferably someone who was straight or bi. She wasn’t into dominance games or force…

He asked if he could hug her and she nodded and then burst into tears on him.
It’s been SO hard and coming to the shows here were the closest she dared come. It wasn’t enough, but it was SOMETHING and it was all she could give her Sunny girl.

Once she’s calmed down and he let her go, he asked why she called her wolf self Sunny.

She smiled, wiping tears.
Because her wolf self is sandy yellow. Very pretty.
She allowed Sunny to the surface to show him. They couldn’t transform, not here, but she wanted to show off the neat, slender, FAST little she wolf now that she could.

He let out a low whistle and agreed. She was a neat, pretty little thing.

He gave her the details to the Lupinar where all the wolves met to change on the full moon and agreed to pass her details to the Alpha…
Finally. Finally they might have some tolerable for company.

She had NOT intended to do more than run with the pack and continue with her quiet life.
Somehow, the Marshal Executioner had ended up Lupa (female leader) of the pack anyway and the pack was under a new Alpha.
That was good. It meant even if the former Alpha should learn what she’d done, she’d have back up… but she was so innocuous that nobody would look.
Shinobi learned to compartmentalise early or they go insane and the mindset carried over easily enough.

However, the dead raising Martial, Ms Blake, got them involved with the new Master Vampire of the City, his Kiss and his businesses.
At his home base, the Circus of the Damned, she met a VERY fascinating female Master vampire whose Animal to Call was wolves. One was also quite jealous of Ms Blake because she was in bed with most of the men there, on and off, including the Master of the City.

The young woman didn’t care. As long as there were enough around who would give Sunny a good romp, she didn’t need more than that.
(She got the feeling, out side of Sunny’s needs, she was Demi or A Sexual. She felt no desire, this lifetime, for a mate or cubs of her own.)
Apparently, she’d found her exception.

The Vampire woman, Meng Di, was petite, Asian and gorgeous as all of the Line Head's creations were.
The head of that line, Belle Mort, chose only the breath-stoppingly beautiful to turn and her various Childe Vampires had continued the trend. Meng Di was one of Jean-Claude, Master of the City's creations and his taste was exquist.

She was not sure if Miss Meng Di swung both ways, but she could not help but offer.
She did not need to be rolled (put under the vampires influence) to be attracted, nor was it simply the vampire’s admittedly lovely packaging.
She simply wished to get to know her better as a person if she was interested.

If she was not, the young woman would back off. Perhaps with regret, but she had never once forced herself where she was not wanted if she had a choice.

Miss Meng didn’t quite understand that and it was her very confusion that made her curious.

The young woman was a very contained person even if Sunny was her near opposite and not one to come undone for just anyone.
If Miss Meng or any other vampire pushed, Kim handed control over to Sunny and they were likely to get a face full of metaphysical slobber from a brighter than she acted but mostly overgrown and cheerful puppy.

Eventually, to her bemusement, she became the woman’s Wolf to Call as well as her lover.

Miss Meng became Meng Mine and the only one who knew of her Serial Reinc nature and her last incarnation’s carry over.
Beloved or not though, the young Werewolf didn’t pull out her shinobi tricks for just anyone or anything.
Though, if one or two of the more troublesome happened to turn up conveniently dead or disappear, well…

Not her Human Servant though, to her relief, though Miss Meng did feed from her occasionally. The young Werewolf was willing to explore this relationship... but she didn't wish to be here for centuries. A Human Servant was tied to their Master Vampire and the death of one would likely kill the other... but they would the Bond would also keep the mortal half tethered to life as long as their Master Vampire did.

They had decades together… and Kim remained young through her Miss power and then Miss Meng died in defence of the city and Kim turned shadow assassin once more.
If she survived, she would go back to her normal life but everyone of those still surviving who were involved would die, even if she also died doing it.
If Sunny wouldn’t have died with her, she would have suicided before all this began. It wasn’t like she valued her life anymore but she’d been settled here and happy enough.
What was one more death to a serial reincarnate?

She’d done that a couple of times the most recent being her last life but the most memoriable was that one time in a Percy Jackson vs.
A shitshow horror story all of it's own.

She'd been born a demigod like the rest and she, he, was NOT having it.

He’d made it to Camp Halfblood, found they were semi-neglected and treated like shit basically stashed away until their ‘godly’ parent sent them out on a Quest.
They were just marking time until they were thrown at monsters, no one caring if they lived or died beyond their fellow Campers or possibly their godly parent, if they were one of the decent ones.

He, no, SHE made no bones about wanting to die but being unable to suicide.
She slept on the beach, fighting the camp harpies that were permitted to eat those out after curfew (fucking charming) and was basically paranoid, antisocial and very clear that she did NOT want to be here and the Greek Panthion, all of them, could fuck themselves sideways with a pineapple for all she cared.
Honestly, if they died, she’d bring marshmellows to roast on their cremation fires…
She did not CARE if they happened to strike her down in anger. She found them shallow, pathetic and honestly she WANTED to die. She did NOT want to be here!
And, YES, she was female despite being male-bodied…

Dear, traitorous Luke struck her down on his way out of camp, which was fine, because she struck him down too.
Like she gave a shit about this world, it’s timeline or whatever. Let Chronos find another meat suit/ patsy…

She'd finally learned how to overloaded herself and went up like flashpaper, burning the traitor and herself to drifting ashes and gladly woke up elsewhere. Let's go out with a BANG, yeah!

She’d been at Camp Halfblood for a little over three months at that point.

Apparently, the powers that be hadn't liked that stunt and she'd been shuffled into several high tech, low/no powers vs after that until they were willing to have another stab at making her 'get with the program'. None of which had worked to date.

Chapter Text

She is a Sky but not an overly powerful one.
Despite how proud those who took her in are, she doesn’t give herself airs.
Her little town is ridiculously proud of her. She is THEIR Sky, even if she isn’t very strong.

She lets her Flames as loose as she can get them every few days as their people like to feel them.
She isn’t strong but she has a few tricks. She makes decoys and spread them out through the town especially around the outer edges.

She isn’t the smartest but her Rain is an accountant and happy to manage her money for her.

She will likely never need a job as each of the Flame aware or Active in the town pays her a small tribute.
All she has to do is keep spreading her Flame and allow them to feel it.
She can do that and she is happy too. It makes people happy and content and if she can give that, she will.

She will likely never leave this town, but that’s fine too.
She’s safe here and, maybe if her friend can find her, that person can be happy and safe here too.
She’d like to be the one to give her that for a change.

She will likely never leave this town but that is fine.
She is happy with her small part of the world.

She encourages those who are too strong or don’t feel right to herto seek their fortunes and is even willing to sponsor them.
All that money they are giving her in tribute, simply for being a Sky, - THEIR Sky, might as well be useful for something. Her living expenses aren’t that great and, beyond seeing to it none in her town are in need and donating it to worthy causes and making her town better.
Those willing to work for it, their best and brightest, so long as they are willing to keep her a secret, can get sponsored to better schools out of town if they want.

That doesn't mean that she doesn't hide carefully when a stronger Sky passes by though. She knows her limits...

Chapter Text

A blond child about eight stood with a stick in his hand as a weapon while a figure made of shadows resolved into the form of a human.

They had been taken by a Vampire, all the people of this town, he and the rest of the street kids who made up his gang included. The children had been shut away and left for last.
The oldest of them had been dragged off already and the blond knew they likely wouldn’t survive the night, even if they weren’t dragged out of here.
It was too cold for the scraps of clothing left to them to provide any protection against the cold stone of the cellar. The floor was packed dirt but it didn’t provide much protection either.
That and they hadn’t been fed or given water in days.

One of them had managed to create a fire… that was unnatural since there was nothing to burn but right now the boy was willing to overlook it. That fire was all that was keeping them alive. The one holding it though was looking worse and worse.
The fire shimmered through the colours of the rainbow but flicked mostly orange and covered the child’s body, generating a gentle warmth.
It was flickering more and more though and fading with the boy’s strength.

The voice, when the figure spoke, was a melodious tenor rather than the deep, echoing voice or terrifying rasp he thought it would be.
“Be at ease child,” It told him. “I am not here for you. Yon bright blaze is an anomaly and one that should not be here. Here, none of those who should be his can find him and he will be alone, so alone, and fought over.
As it is he is burning himself up to keep his Dying Will Flames lit doing his best to buy the rest of you a few more precious hours.
You will be freed soon enough. The agents of the Church are coming to wipe out the abomination but this child, if he is still here, will not live through it. They will fear his perfectly natural abilities, calling him ‘Demon’ and ‘Witch.’
Would you wish that for a child who is literally killing himself to save your life?’

The figure brushed passed him and the boy shivered.

‘Wha’ about OUR lives’, he dared to ask.

“I have told you the Church is coming. You have a Destiny boy so you, at least, survive.”

“Wha’… Wha’ about the others! If ye takin’ ‘im, can’t ye take us too?!”

“I’m afraid not child. I intend to bring this little brave one through Death and out the other side. Never fear, he will be living. Flames of the Sky do not do well with death as my own could attest but right now, he is only a fraction of himself and, left in this place, he won’t live long enough to grow into them.
As for the rest of you, I hold sway over only those who fit certain criteria. Despair, Destiny, Desperation. Two of these three are needed to call me and, even then, the person in question needs to give up something significant in return. I cannot effect anything without a bargain being made.”

‘What about yon firey brat then?’ the blond demanded, his desperation growing.

“He is already one of mine that had slipped through the cracks. His ancestors swore to me centuries ago… but on another world. How he came to be here, where using his natural fire means burning up his life, I honestly do not know. I had thought all of his living relatively safe and contented… I will take him back to where he should be and place him in the care of his family one more.”

“What d’ they need to give?!” the blond demanded. These kids… he knew most of ‘em. They had run the streets together, fighting to stay alive. They were his responsibility! He couldn’t just let them DIE! “Ye said I got a Destiny right? I’m Desperate and the others ‘r’ plenty Despairing! Wha’ ya need!”

“Oh child,” the Being sighed. “You don’t want to give me that. The price is a Soul child. The Soul of the one calling becomes removed from the natural cycle of their world and is given to my care. They cannot return to it without my leave and, even if they do, they will always be marked by it. Every time they Incarnate again they will feel out of sorts, slightly disconnected. I would not want that for you or any of these other little ones. Especially when rescue will arrive in a few short hours. - Still, I suppose even a minor Incarnation of Death like myself can find a little wiggle room within the rules from time to time.
If you and these other children are willing to grant me a few hours off your life spans, I can remain with you until rescue comes, bolstering this little one’s Flames with the ragged tatters of my own.”

The other children were quick enough to agree. What was a few hours when they were old against likely certain death now if their heat source left.

The Being sat with the child in it’s lap and crooned softly.
Flames like those on the boy rose softly, like writhing shadows to cradle Being and child. Under them, the child’s Flames near smothered but slowly the shadows turned to black fire with flickers of rainbow colours and orange in it. The colours grew stronger but always there were flickers of black and grey at the edges and they simply felt… wrong. Unnatural.
The Aura around the child caught fire again, surrounding the boy with a shimmering orange /yellow corona. The level of ambient heat rose and, between that and the crooning, the children fell asleep one by one.

They were awakened to find their light/ heat source gone and agents of the Catholic Church pulling them out into the light of day.

Even so, the boy who would become the infamous Iscariot Catholic Paladin Regenerator Father Alexander Anderson never forgot the time he met ‘death’ and the mercy it bestowed.
He would never admit it but that meeting gave him courage to throw all of himself into what he did. After all, if death, even a minor one, looked after his own, would not God do more and greater things for his Faithful? When his time came, Alexander would meet death, in whatever form it took, with a smile!
(He also swore that, because of this meeting, he could see the angels of Death, the reapers collecting the fallen. It was why he had no issues with killing Ghouls and Vampires. Their Souls mostly were gone already and they were merely very lively corpses.)

He would see that figure only one more time as he was fading away into nothingness, having fought Hellsing’s Dog, the Vampire Alucard or, to give him his proper title, Prince Vlad Tepes the Third of Wallachia, also known as Count Dracula. He pitied the Vampire and those like him who had been so terrified of death that they turned from it.
Death was nothing to fear.

He gave his last words to his enemy and turned his eyes to another.

The figure stood at his side and crooned for him as it had for he and the other children back in that cold cellar, grey black Flames flaring to wrap gently around him and hold him a while. They didn’t feel wrong anymore. No, they felt cool and welcoming.

As his eyes closed for the last time he felt the figure stand back, releasing him from its shadowy, caressing embrace.

No, death, particularly this one, was nothing to fear at all.

He smiled.

---0---

Chapter Text

A kid has a System but it came in too early.
The kid can’t do the standard daily quests which involve a bunch of exercises.
So, the kid keeps falling into penalty games only, the kid is too little to complete them properly either.
The only reason the kid hasn’t died yet is sheer luck and an item given to him by his wanderer of a mother.

He lives with an aunt and uncle whose care is slip-shod at best.
It's not intentional, they’re both absentminded scientist types and not used to having a kid about.
They have a robot maid who makes sure they eat, drink and sleep and the kid has been programmed into that as well.
Unfortunately, it didn’t have prompting the owners to dress and shower as part of its function so the kid was quite unkempt.
The kid was three and probably would have done better being raised by wolves or wandering with his mother.
The two scientists has been reported more than once but they were important and so it was allowed to let slide.
Nothing was done.

A little before the boy turned four, the System managed to do something.
It enabled the boy to find a useful sort in a street child orphan who was now fourteen odd and just looking for a place to lay low since people were head-hunting him.
Not for any particular reason or because of his own abilities, but simply because he’d remained neutral when all of the others of his peergroup had joined one group or another, died or relocated.

He’d been planning to relocate when the kid found him and the System reformatted him as the Little Master’s carer.
As such, he’d get a place to sleep, food to eat, clothes to wear and, as an extension of his Young Master, he’d be able to see and understand the child’s System prompts.
He would slowly learn how to read from them though he’d have to practice writing since the System expected him to teach the child.

The Scientist types didn’t even notice him moving in and, since the Scientist types didn’t eat their food, outside of coffee, most of the time, he found plenty to scavenge to eat.

His job was to help the kid with daily necessities and help him do the daily quests… or get dragged along on the penalty games for failing them.
This happened more often than it didn’t as the System was trying, but seemed to be having difficulty recalibrating to suit a child that young.
It needed the boy to level up to five at least before it could and the child wasn’t because he wasn’t big, strong or fast enough to kill monsters or run from them.
Most of the time he survived simply by staying still, scrunching down and pretending he was a rock until he was sent home again. Thus, the penalty games accomplished exactly nothing.
The attendant was the System’s last resort at trying to make something happen.
The System provided the Attendant one set of mildly armoured clothing but no weapons.

The Attendant spent a LOT of time running away from things.
If a System could cry tears of frustration, this one likely was.

No progress was made until the Attendant accidentally killed a monster in the penalty game.
It wasn’t worth much but it was SOME progress and the System decided to be generous.
He leveled up to one and got a basic, club-like, weapon.
His Little Master’s own level rose a small amount too as the boy was sharing experience with him.
So THAT’S what he was supposed to do!

The Invintory unlocked as well, though there was little space in it.

The Attendant was determined now.
He had an idea of what to do and, even if he couldn’t kill the big monsters, some of the smaller, weaker ones he could and so he did.

It took nearly two years but finally, FINALLY the Little Master, who he still wasn’t sure of the name of, reached level five and promptly keeled over as the System recalibrated.

The boy’s mother still hadn’t been back even if there were letters and postcards and gifts… mainly left where they had fallen in the front door.
The robot cleared them away and dumped them on a table in the mostly unused study that was now piled deep in mail.
Bills had long since been set up to be autopaid so there were no worries there and, since they didn’t really care what they ate, the robot ordered food deliveries of the same foods every week, made the same mostly easy to eat or finger food meals and got rid of anything left at the end of the day.
(There was none now since the Attendent had taken to eating it.)
As such, any mail that arrived, unless it was something with a window, was more or less ignored.
The robot’s recognition system had only certain types of mail recognised as important and anything else was dumped on the table… unless it was actively junk mail.
With the System helping the young Attendant to learn how to read (and following a rather rank smell) the young man found the Mail Table and was able to find the box with some VERY aged food item in there.
The suspension array on the package had failed and thus the contents were now on the side of being touched with tongs and shoved hastily into a containment bag… then burned.
Fortunately, beyond the smell, nothing else had escaped the box but the young man made a note to go through the table and take any other package with arrays on them to his Little Master… and OUTSIDE the house.

As there had been coins as well as weapons and equipment in the monster drops, both Attendant and child had decent clothes, bedding and food, the Attendent having taken up in a small room off his Little Master’s like a proper servant.
To have laundry done they simply added their clothes to the basket and the robot took care of it.
For cleaning, they simply left their room at a certain time of the day twice a week and the robot handled it.

The System taught both of them to count…

At five, the boy should be either being tutored or in primary school. He was neither and the Attendent, having been ‘raised’ on the street, had no idea of that either so, it was a shock when the boy’s mother turned up.
Apparently, she’d sent warning but she’d obviously forgotten JUST how absent-minded her sibling and his wife were.
That was on her. She’d hoped they’d care for her kid but that had failed.
What she got for assuming.

The Attendant and her boy having the System already active was a shock. It wasn’t supposed to kick in until puberty at the earliest!

Finding her boy unconscious as the System recalibrated was an even bigger shock.
She did commend the still nameless Attendant for managing to get him this far.
She couldn’t take them with her… but she could update the programming of the robot and did so.

A second bot, a tutor bot, was added.
For two or three hours a day, her boy and his attendant would have lessons on various things form language, mathematics and history to cooking in various situations, edible wild plants and survival stuff to how and when to barter with a practical lesson twice a week.

The Attendant (called Ten by the little boy. He accepted that as close enough to a name to pass) now had his own clothes and furniture and was added to the rostered meal plan.
Three times a week, they wouldn’t have an evening meal made for them and would have to make it themselves.

She also taught him how to add or remove instructions from the domestic bot. The tutor bot wasn’t to be touched.
He was now her representative for legal matters regarding her boy, cutting her space case sibling and the equally mentally absent spouse out of things altogether.
It wasn’t like they’d notice either way.

He wasn’t sure how he felt about that…

She explained it as just continue doing what he was doing for her kid, he just now had the right to do so legally.
AND he didn’t have to wait for her to turn up. He could make decisions on behalf of the kid.

Chapter Text

Heroes were summoned from another world… only, their patrons weren’t the only ones attempting a summoning.
In a class of twenty four odd, only thirteen arrived, with the numbers filled up by kids for the classes above and below.
The King who’d had them brought in was ready to discard the two ‘weakest’ as was his backing ‘goddess’ so they could concentrate on the stronger members.
The ‘Hero’ blocked it. Try that again, on ANY of them and he’d walk. Since they were so RUDE as the yank them from their actual lives, the least they could do is VALUE them.
This wasn’t net fishing. They were PEOPLE who’d had lives, families, a world to go back too…
After all, if they’d only wanted a specific type of person, that’s the sort they should have summoned, not just anyone in reach.
Meantime, he wishes ALL of the information available since they’ve already shown they don’t have the stolen class’s best interests at heart.

The king is murdered, the Hero is blamed but talks his way out of it. As far as he knew, both king and goddess were needed to be able to get them home. Maybe even the princess as well. As much as he disliked the man, no way would he kill his ticket home.
And he was right. The Hero HADN’T killed him… it was just they never asked him if he knew who had. One of their classmates had the class Black Magician, with the subclass Assassin. They told noone but he could see it.
They had discovered the king was going to sacrifice them, one by one, to boost the Heroes power but bring his mind under the king's control…with the goddess sanction.
They had promptly been overpowered by rage and killed him before fleeing.

At this rate, since they're stuck here, they might as well just take over and study this shit for themselves. Maybe look wherever the rest of them got pulled to for more information. One of them might have the marry the princess or reverse mind control her or something, but they can make it happen.
Maybe, it their would be 'patron' hadn't tried to screw them over or summoned them in the first place and partially flubbed it, a take-over wouldn't be on the cards but he had and he did.
He's got no one but himself and his goddess to blame.

The missing school mates were actually summoned by other factions… or rather, the summons was hijacked to bring the nearest of those that would suit their needs to their summons circle instead.
Demons, Elves, even a few rival kingdoms snagged a few. The further away from the main summons a kingdom/ faction was, the fewer ‘summons’ they managed to snag.
This was going to be a mess to deal with.

Chapter Text

An Autobot Elder, old enough to remember the second Decepticon rebellion, flails awake sprawled across a broad, dark coloured body feeling absolutely wretched.

Would that this was a simple case of overcharging and waking up with someone inappropriate.

No.

She could feel the new bond settling in with dismay on her part and fettered rage and despair on his.
Almost unwillingly she glanced up, meeting sharp, red, currently burning, optics.

‘Frag my life!’ she said, clearly and with feeling. ‘Someone… is going to PAY for this!’

She felt the form she was sprawled across, chest plate to chest plate shudder under her.
“You… well, Mech?”

A gravelly and rumbling vocaliser barked out a single word savagely. “No.”

She cringed as the effects from being forcefully controlled made themselves felt.
‘UIgg. Slag.’ She is going to pass out shortly. There is nothing she can do about it.

‘Decepticon,’ she states as clearly as she can with the rising pressure in her cranium. It feels like something is trying to fire concussive blasts, from the inside. ‘Get me out of here. Please.
As much chaos as you can. Avoid fatalities where possible. No harm to civilians and the minimum of harm you can get away with otherwise. Priority is getting me back to my own home and subordinates with all speed.
Also, I am going to pass out shortly. I have a singularly BAD reaction to being forcefully overridden and it needs to be documented as soon as possible.’ She placed a slim hand on the face of her new… slave, vocal processors strained, pained and furious.
‘You have my word. Heads will roll for resurrecting this abomination of a practice from history where it should have remained!
And… for what it’s worth, I did NOT agree to this and I am sorry.’

The pain in her head casing spiked and she slumped unconscious.

Megatron, once leader of the Decepticons, grinned with malice and lashed out, following his new ‘master’s’ orders.
As distasteful as it was, they were ones he could get behind. Pity about restrictions on fatalities.
If he HAD to be bound to someone, at least it was someone who loathed this as much as he did.
He recognised her now. A politician and an Elder but a decent one.
She was older than most around now, from the time when he had FIRST been enslaved, watching with horror as his ‘master’ flaunted him through the streets, turning away with clenched fists. Oh yes, he REMEMBERED those optics.
She couldn’t have been in more than her third shell then but her optics, glowing white among the blue and red, purple and green, those hadn’t changed.
She was rumoured to absolutely abhor slavery of any form. Nice to know the reports hadn’t been false.
It could have been worse. It could have been that cyber puppy of a Prime.

They are chased down by said Prime and a few of his team later… until the politician he was bound to told the boy to stand down… and that it would have been him.
He was their first choice to bind their War Prize too.

Doing this was an attempt to both discredit and sabotage her and she did NOT appreciate it… Even if she couldn’t let him go either.
If they were going to be so obliging as to hand her a weapon, she would be using it.
To do otherwise would be a waste and an insult to the living piece of history that Megatron was.

Very nicely put together piece of history too. Oh yes, she wasn’t blind.
Megatron was a VERY fine figure of a mech.
That she was NOT going to touch beyond what the bond required because he was ALSO a sentient. Free will was the right of ALL sentient life… and she deeply regretted that she had been forced to remove his autonomi if not his will.

Sadly, the frequency of their life sparks was a very close match. Should she be killed, he would likely go with her… or, at least, he would have the sanity ripped out of him.
Doing this was POINTLESS.
Yes, she had a captive cyberwolf now but it also painted a massive target on her back and she had now doubt an experienced mech like Megatron had a chosen Heir and contingencies long ago put in place.

She hated all the Decepticons had done and what they stood for, but she loathed Slavery and all the Council had tried even more.

She asks that her new ‘companion’ train the young Prime to the best of his ability.
Not to fighting his people but to how to keep the cybersharks from his neck while he hardens into his own armour. Now that he’s a ‘Hero’ he’s going to need to be able to swim in infested waters without allowing others to take nibbles from him or suck him into their wake.
Or he might be next in line for a ‘Roomate’ with a purple crest as several of her new roommate's had been taken with him.
None of them wanted that.

Chapter Text

After tossing and turning helplessly due to the racket next door, he knew he had to do something but he wasn’t a confrontational sort, so he simply left a note.

It read ‘To the Couple next door.
You’ve found each other, love eachother and are very, very into eachother… I happy for you. Glad even but, could you please have some mercy on a poor, hard studying uni student with far too early classes and let me sleep at least four nights out of seven?
I don’t mean any disrespect but… well, let me put it this way. I tried ear plugs, headphones, music, headphones WITH music and nothing drowns you out fully.
At this point I’m willing to PAY you to take your night play elsewhere on the nights before the early classes or exams.
Since I’m not willing to leave my details where anyone can grab them, please slip me a note with your response if your willing to respond.
Thank you.
Your very tired neighbour.’

He had NOT intended to get pulled into a ‘fuck buddy’ type relationship with a pair of lesbians curious about dick. Especially LARGE dick. How they had learned about that he had NO idea but they were cock teases the pair of them. Unfortunately, really, REALLY hot cock teases…
He was so fucked. Sometimes even literally.

And now he was more exhausted than ever… especially since he was part of what was making them noisy.
At least they spared him on the nights before the early classes and the exams even if they took him up on the option to go elsewhere for their usual play and made him pay it back double in bed afterwards…
(He’d taken to studying on campus as late as he could since he wouldn’t be interrupted there.)

Chapter Text

A late forties former Amish bachelor is suddenly landed with the legal care of his brother’s children. While he had left the conclave and gone his own way after irreconcilable differences with his father and a wish to not provoke him further, not even informing him of either brother or father’s death hurt.

There were only the two of them of his mother and father’s line, which was very unusual for an Amish family but his mother had trouble baring and having his younger brother, along with the sub par medical care, ensured that she didn’t recover fully and weakened a little more as the years rolled by.

By the time Rumspringa had come for him and his younger brother was seven or eight, she was visibly fading and nothing they did seemed to help. Their father’s mood swings became more visible and more dramatic. It worried him and he’d been content to remain within the community for it. Life had other ideas.

Rumspringa, for him, hadn’t been about exploring his options and thinking of his future but rather riding herd (such useful expressions the outsiders had) on his buddy group who were extremely gung ho to go out and explore.
He had little interest initially, but an elder he respected had a daughter of age and keen to go. He wasn’t so blind as to not see the man was hoping for a match between them, but he already knew she and one of his year mates were tentatively forming a connection… besides, his mother approved and it would give his seven years younger brother a chance to step up and do more than help with the chores. It was his brother who craved their father’s approval most.

Their father had always been firm but distant, his affection reserved for their mother alone. His sons could expect little more than a nod of approval when they somehow managed to adhere to his rigid guidelines which were more restrictive those that governed their community.
Their mother’s affection could have one of two effects. Their father might nod approval or, he his face might darken as he turned away.

Assured as he was of his mother’s affection and his place as oldest son, his father’s dark moods, unless they came with unwarranted punishment, had little effect on him.
His young brother didn’t have that assurance and had also to contend with the subconscious blame his father had for him over their mother’s condition.
Their father also seemed to take the affection his wife had for her younger son badly, but didn’t act out against him outright.
He was used to being a foil for his younger brother too.
Long and short, even if he’d been inclined to leave during that period, he could not do so, in good conscious.

Having the most headstrong of the group go tearing off by himself, fall afoul and get stabbed and bleed out before anyone could find him wasn’t a good start.

He’d kept the group together, mostly, and asked politely of the police if there was somewhere they could buy a change of clothing and to stay cheaply.
Outside of the tear away, the rest he organised into groups of three, a male and two females, where he could and he would switch out with each group's male until they were prepared to return to the village.
They would see if they could find temporary work for them too.

Their pooled money bought them four cheap motel rooms which he split between girls and boys as well as visiting a second hand shop, to buy cheap, modest clothes so they didn’t stand out so much. It would be better if everyone wasn’t staring at them while they explored.

A visit by the police and word of the headstrong boy’s death put a damper on things.

While the others were looking in stores and watching people, he headed straight for the library. There was much he wanted to know that he couldn’t in the community.

The lad he was with (they were a man down without the lad who’d run off) was equally interested, but out of curiosity rather than a steadily building desire to know more.
Computers were such interesting devices and this… internet! The ability to access knowledge from all over the world! So exciting! And no one monitoring or limiting what they could learn! Such temptation!
And he wanted to know MORE. Stumbling onto the concept of homeschooling or distance learning! Oh, he wanted, NEEDED to know more!

It would have to wait though. This was not something he could do while under his father’s roof.

After a week, the money had run out, they’d learned of something called a laundromat and how to use it and most were perfectly content to return home.
Whatever their decisions in the future, they weren’t his responsibility… But only after he got them home safely.

The visit by the police and their return of the dead boy cast a pall over their return.
The family of the boy didn’t blame him exactly but…
The rest of the group stood by him and explaining how he’d kept them together, helped them blend and explore safely, and did his best for them and how he couldn’t do anything for the dead boy. After all, what can one do for a person who ran off the moment they got to town?

That incident did confirm something for him. Women were wonderful people but, he had NO interest in one as a life partner, for breeding purposes or otherwise. He had no wish to care for or take responsibility for anyone outside of himself. He would NOT be marrying and would likely make a terrible husband and father if he did.

This likely wouldn’t go down well with his father and he was happy to put that off for as long as possible. With his mother’s failing health, home must be kept as tranquil and peaceful as possible and his father wasn’t one to be provoked lightly.

The years rolled by and he was twenty-four when his mother finally passed.

He had moved out and was living by himself and happier for it. There was no one to monitor if he delved into distance learning.
Apparently, he had a very fine brain and was already mostly through high school despite having started from primary school level.

He also found he needed less social interaction than most of his peers. Honestly, the most enjoyable part of his day was coming home and delving into studying.
He’d taken over the cooking and most of the domestic chores due to his mother’s failing health and his father’s adamant refusal to get one or two of the community spinsters or young widows in to help, so doing it for one person rather than four wasn’t difficult.

As he worked as a farm hand, pitching in wherever help was needed, he had no animals he needed to rise to see to and thus, while one day of the weekend was wholly devoted to God, church and community, the other was devoted to all the little domestic tasks allowed to slide during the week. Laundry, general cleaning, cooking things like bread and experimenting with his own pickles, preserves and dried herbs.

Once a month, he would also catch a lift with whomever had business in town and spend the day in the library or picking up odds and sods, for himself or other neighbours who couldn’t make the trip for whatever reason.

He always returned with copious notes and new things to try with the herbs and weeds around the community.
He experimented with infused waters, tinctures and tonics, both for man and beast. He was no veterinarian, but he was able to help with many common ailments and parasite problems that would otherwise have gone untreated.

The downsides of the Amish like, he noticed, was a lack of knowledge on things and a lack of the means to treat them.
Their animals may be working beasts, but that did not mean that proper care should not be taken of them. A tool worked best when it was well maintained after all and animals were no different.

With his rise as amateur town doctor and vet, his regard, despite his unmarried state, in the community was rising. And so was the pressure, from his father mainly, to find a likely lass, settle and raise a family.
He was still adamant though, that this would not happen.

He’d noted, since his mother’s death, that his father was beginning to behave strangely, to the point where he ‘invited’ his younger brother to come and live with him for his own safety.

He visited his father once a week to ensure the man was being cared for, even though the old man was insistent that he should move back in, which he’d also resisted.
His younger brother was doing better out from under their now extremely overbearing father’s presence and had a good lass, one their mother had approved of even, that he was courting towards marriage.

Then, the old man had taken a bad fall and still refused to allow anyone but family into the house.
Reluctantly, he moved back in to care for him. He regretted that. Boy, did he ever.

The old man was demanding, abrasive and couldn’t seem to handle having ANYTHING contrary to his will. The fact that his older son, his heir, wasn’t married and had no intention of marrying, seemed to be a sticking point. He was a man, edging into thirty now, it was time he did his duty, settled down and had some children.

The arguments and finally, even though he was barely mobile again, his father physically attacked him with his stick, shouting that if he did not wed the girl his father had picked (she was barely passed Rumspringa. No. Just no! Any woman he took an interest in would need to be as hungry for knowledge as he was), he would be disinherited and kicked from the family.

When he would not yield, his father ordered him from the house, banishing him from the family and barring him from returning.
He left, not wishing to stress the old man further.

This solved several problems but also made new ones.

He’d given his brother and his lass the house he’d been living in, which essentially left him homeless for now.
He went first to his brother to pass on what had happened and then to the paster and called together the elders and informed them of what had happened.
Honestly, he was thinking of leaving the community altogether, becoming less and less tolerant of their stubbornness and ignorance as a way of life, though he kept that to himself.

Instead, he asked if there was another community he might go to for a while, as his presence seemed to set his father off and it wasn’t good for his health. He was pretty sure his father’s mind was beginning to slip. He had days where he talked as though he didn’t remember his wife had passed and that wasn’t a good sign.

Wishes or not, the man put forward that his father might need home care, more than a young man about to marry and his daughter-in-law could manage. They had no other family they could lean on, either.
He’d be willing to pay for the wages if there was an older lady in need of some money who was willing to ignore the rants and tirades of someone like his father to give him basic care.

He had NOT counted on his father staggering his way into the square and denouncing him at full volume when his demand that the boy should wed is once again denied and then trying to attack him with his stick.

Into the ringing silence after, the young man sighed, closed his eyes and opened them again.
“It… might be best if I stay in the village for a while. I do not think my father will cope well if I’m around. I had… I had hoped to spare him this. To allow him to keep his reputation intact but…
If… can set up a time, perhaps we can discuss things from there.”

He stays over with his brother that night, and packs his few belongings.
Most of these are his educational notes and his books of notes and recipes.
His hat, clothes, shoes filled one case… he’d never had much. Never needed it.
His household goods and his preserves and herbs, along with the notes on using the various rubs, teas and tinctures he was also leaving behind, he left to his brother who had yet to find a job that suited him and had more need of them.

Over the next week, the elders came to him. They were reaching out to another Communites and, since he still refused to marry, agreed to let him take over dealing with the villagers and he’d receive a small stipend for that.
He was still expected to church and hasn’t been excommunicated, is still a part of their community, but was remaining apart for his father’s health, like a good son.
They don’t quite understand his reluctance to wed, but they will respect it.

He’d expected to be there for no more than a couple of months to a year before he could return.
He attended church on Sabbath but… more and more the looks coming his way were the eyes turned to an outsider and he didn’t know why.

Finally, he asked the paster what was going on.
It might not be directly, so that he didn’t trigger his father further, but he was still working hard for their Community and acting as guide for those young people who chose to do part or all of Rumspringa within the town.

Unfortunately, living outside of the community, some were wondering whether he truly was part of their community or not.
He was far more learned than any of them and, while he would lend a hand and attend all the Community-based events as well as church, he very rarely sought out anyone’s company of his own volition and, most telling, he hadn’t sought out female company at all.

That bothered him, a lot.

What bothered him most though was, after a month or so outside to adjust, he found he actively PREFERRED the mildly curious but mostly indifferent attitude of the townsfolk to the interest and almost nosy friendliness in the community. He preferred his own company more often than he didn’t (reason B, why he felt he wouldn't be good husband material) and had found life within the community, even in his own house, a strain.
He was never happier than when he could part from the others and return to his cosy home, help him self to the slow-cooked casserol he’d left to cook during the day, wash up a little and dive into what ever subject had caught his interest this week, along with whatever studies he was working on the homework for.
He didn’t mind caring for the animals when he was brought in for a sick one, but was grateful that he was responsible for the feeding and general upkeep of none of them.
He ENJOYED his solitude and the ability to sleep in if he wished rather than being up with, or before, the sun. He did miss the work a little as it gave his mind a chance to contemplate the latest thing he’d learned while his hands were kept busy.
Unsure what to do with all the spare time, he did his chores, sought out some casual gainful employment as a fruit picker, handyman/ general hand and continued his studies.

Even after a lot of prayer and study, he still didn't have an answer.

He was called upon for the Community less and less until finally he had to wonder if he was part of the Community at all… and the Elders and Paster were of similar mind.
He WAS actively looked at like an outsider now.

His brother had become ENGAGED and he’d had no word. That was actively hurtful.
Worse, there were some who were of mind to listen to his father’s rants… and take the attitude, if not the words. to heart.

After a year of this, he went to his brother, sold the house outright, settled his few remaining affairs and left.
He was headed to college. It was a small local community one in the near by city, but it would allow him to begin on the path of his interests.
All the sciences called to him, but biology, animal and human, and psychology were his main focuses.

His diet didn’t vary much, and he did a lot of volunteer work between studying, in order to fill his hours and stay fit.
He also still worshiped on the Sabbeth, but was unsure what to do about church going.

He learned his way around computers and electrical devices, and restored and repaired equipment like that he’d been familiar with from the Community as a hobby and then sold the pieces as he had no need for them.
It gave him a way to help pay his fees and keep himself afloat.

As he could manage his own household chores, even in this strange new environment, and knew how to bargain at markets for good quality produce (you would never catch him eating that mass-produced dross and his water was filtered rainwater from a barrel on the roof.
Tap water would do for washing self, clothing and even produce, but he wouldn’t be cooking with or drinking it) and kept up with his herbal habits, caring for his own little window box herb patch, he didn’t see the need to rush or take on the unhealthier eating habits of those around him. It was all about time management and, for a man accustomed to being up before the birds and retiring around ten p.m., there were plenty of hours in the day.

His aim was to become a certified psychologist but that was a long and daunting path. In the meantime, he was gathering the funds a college with a wider range of subjects than this one had would require. Both biology and botany were of interest to him and he felt he could make a living off it.

These colleges could not only fill the gaps in his education, but act as a feeder college so he could go further… The psychology course would have to be done in stages but he was enjoying the challenge so far.

With his days taken up with education, money and household chores, he was less able to volunteer or indulge in his hobby but that was fine.
Morning worship and evening worship were staying in his schedule no matter how busy he was.
He might have broken with the Community, but that didn’t mean he was also broken with the Lord God.

For volunteer work, he cut back to three times a week rather than the near daily he’d been doing previously and set aside thirty minutes to an hour every day for his hobby. Farmers' market and household chores were for the weekend.
A fridge and a freezer made it so much easier to cook in bulk, which was relegated to the day with the lightest amount of classes.

He found that he only needed casual interactions with people around him to satisfy his ‘social contact’ quotient which made things much easier.
There were no demands on his time beyond what he’d voluntarily taken on and it was quite freeing. He had no responsibilities save to God and himself.

The years slipped by easily and, while there were dips, it was a mostly ordinary life.
He kept busy and studied contentedly.
Once he had enough learning behind him, he also began to sell his herbal blends and tinctures which also brought in good money.
He was saving up to do the leap to a larger college to further himself on his psychology track. (A university might be beyond him at this point but it might not always be so.)
It wouldn’t be cheap though he was doing as much of the prepwork as he could via distance learning or through the local Community College.
He was perfectly willing to move to do so, too.
His life was still simple and frugal and he indulged in no sins of the flesh.
Mostly, he was content with God and man.

He had NOT counted on being contacted again by the Community.
He had a niece, a nephew too, and both were orphaned.
He was their only remaining relative.

Part of him wanted to snarl and bite out harsh words as to why he was only being contacted NOW but that would not help in this situation. It was highly likely that they had not wanted to do even this much.

The children were still relatively young, six in her case and two in his.
He KNEW he was not suitable to care for them. His home was in NO way set up for children and just because he’d become disenchanted towards life in the community, it didn’t mean that his brother’s children couldn’t enjoy a solid, hard-working life there…
There were certainly far worse places to grow up.

Still, this was not an issue that should be handled over a phone line and he would like more details of how the children had come to be orphans…
(He wouldn’t lie. It stung that he hadn’t been informed of their births. Just because he wasn’t really part of the Community anymore, it didn’t mean that he didn’t love and care about his younger brother and his the lovely young woman he married. The be cut out so completely hurt, especially as he’d now never get a chance to discuss things and either make a clean break or make it right.)

It felt… strange to be heading back into the Community. That he did so on a bicycle made him stand out even more.
This all just felt so… awkward.

They met in the church hall, with the children.

For now, he put aside his hurt and anger. He’d pour it all out to the Lord later that night in pray.
The focus of this meeting was the children… and the children is where his attention should be.

They were afraid, upset and confused… understandable. Their lives had just gotten up ended with extreme prejudice. They were staying with people who were only vaguely familiar and now there was a strange man who was, apparently, their uncle.

He was surprised they weren’t in tears already.

The best thing, he felt, would be for them to be raised in the Community until they were old enough to have an opinion.

He would go through his brother's house and put some things aside for the children, but the rest, house included, would be sold to pay for their care.
He would suppliment it when he was able, but he’d appreciate if there was widow or spinster or a family that would be willing to take them in and care for them, he’d ensure they were properly paid for doing so. Christian charity was good, but since he was able to supply funds for their needs, he should, and so would, do so.
Whoever took on their care should not be penalized by having to pay for all of the children’s needs when they were putting a roof over their heads and providing a, hopefully, loving environment to grow up in and see to their educational and religious needs.

(Some felt he should just marry, take in the children and raise them in the Community but, he still had absolutely NO desire to do so.
He did not feel a lack in his life being without a wife and children of his own and he still felt that it a single life suited him far better…

In fact, he felt it would be unkind of him to make such an attempt as he wouldn’t be able to give a spouse the attention such a life partner deserved. He would not be able to love and cherish her as Christ cherished his Church.

Far better to live a single life fully than make a poor attempt at a married one simply because it was a cultural norm.)

If the children were settled here, he had NO intention of removing them, even if he himself was no longer welcome here.

The Paster looked a little sad at that. They truly had not meant to make him feel so unwelcome he had no desire to return… even though he knew he had also been somewhat complacent and had not discouraged the others in the Community as well as he might have.

Still, it was done now.

He stayed overnight, seeing the two children settled in with their new carer, a young couple who’d been told that she would be unable to bear children after they’d been through the house and picked out some of the children’s favourite things, including their toys and some of their furniture and had packed up their clothing completely.

Going through the belongings of his brother’s house was painful. So painful. He’d MISSED so much and it wasn’t fair. He was going to struggle forgiving this, he knew. His brother, the paster, the Community… all of it.

It would hurt to sell a lot of this stuff. It was well made and it was obvious that a lot of love and care had been poured into their creation…

His brother and his wife had continued his work with the herbs and tinctures.

He… He could NOT stay here. It was too much. He had to get OUT.
He rose, throw on his coat and shoes and rode his bike out of the Community.
Outside of the gate, he fell to his knees and bawled, pouring his pain, sorrow and hurt out to God as he’d been taught to from childhood.

He didn’t feel that much better but at least he no longer felt like clawing his way out of his own skin anymore.

Even so, it was a LONG time until he could bring himself to go back.
Honestly, one thing he DID miss from his cosy little flat. Electricity. That and hot water. They were so convenient!

He would get the rest of the house done today, packing away the items he wished to pass down to the children in a couple of trunks and what he planned to take with him into another.

It took him two days to pack it up properly and he had to pause as the Sabbath fell between the two.
He attended church but couldn’t handle being among these people who had no even contacted him for the funeral of his only remaining family aside from the children.
It was going to take time not to let his hurt fester and he would be far better once he was away from here.

He would not allow this disconnect to continue. Those were HIS niece and nephew and, as he was financing their life, he deserved to be at least updated, even if he wasn’t directly involved.
He wanted them to have good lives and he didn’t want to be at odds with the people of the Community even if he no longer shared their beliefs regarding education.

They believed that too much knowledge wasn’t necessary and that a person should live simple, frugal lives… but knowledge had helped keep their animals in good condition and even helped ease the lives of the people around him. How could that be a bad thing?
No beast or person should suffer untreated, especially when there were the means to help them, even if it was simply a maintaining of tools…

He would not force his somewhat heretical views on others, but he was no longer comfortable with the ignorance the Community chose to keep themselves in.
He was beginning to feel that the Lord had given them minds and intelligence and, while he didn’t believe in gathering knowledge simply for having it, gathering knowledge so that a person could help others, that he saw no issue with.
He did still believe a person should remain busy and productive but didn’t believe that a person should fill all hours of the day with work to keep their mind occupied.
A hobby wasn’t a bad thing, depending on what it was and his both brought him joy, was useful AND he could sell the results later… perhaps that was a way he could reconnect. He could fix and restore many of their tools that they could not in the Community, simply because he had the knowledge to do so and access to the various compounds and agents he needed.

He was coming to believe that, somewhere along the line, they may have twisted what the Lord had told them via his word.
He still spent a good time studying it and praying for guidance and he truly felt this was the right path for him.

Such were just his views though, and he was unsure if sharing them would be appropriate.
It was times like this, he truly missed having the council of his elders. Few outside the Community could understand things from his viewpoint.
The guidance of the Holy Spirit was good… but his ability to listen and understand was somewhat faulty as a fallen, sinful being, and he missed things.
He could only carry on as best he could.
He would make the offer. That was all he could do.

He was also willing to take up hosting youngsters who wished to explore the outer world as part of their Rumspringa. He absolutely did NOT want another incident like that young man who had run off and returned as a cold corpse… No family deserved that.

To be their man on the outside as well.
He may not fully agree with their lifestyle, attitude and approach anymore, but he would not deliberately slight them either… even if it would take him a long time before he could forgive fully, as he’d been denied news of and contact with his family.