#god women who had to fight for their survival for decades

[sittinginsunflowers]

Amangeaux and Karna are such a beautiful dynamic. Amangeaux attempts to save her from the hit that took her life, and even though she saw her die she still tries to reach out telepathically begging her to still be alive. Karna spent her final day giving her old friend any advantage she could, looking strangely like the lady she met so many years ago. And in the end the secret Amangeaux shares with the mycelium is that she had Karna kill for her, and then left her just two years later, going back on their deal. So when the war ends and the horn sounds, she spends the rest of her life following in Karna’s footsteps.

[protagaster]

Part 1 of the Warrior!Penelope Swap AU

Just a heads up, some of the vignettes in this AU will be structured around the songs in the musical, and some will be short stories detailing the events of the Odyssey (like the prequel did)

Credit to Tumblr users @vioofc and @too-much-flynnolium, for their own ideas surrounding their warrior!penelope AUs led to inspiration for mine!

(Cross-Posted on Ao3)

The Horse and the Infant

After 10 years of war, of battle and bloodshed, the Greek army has finally gained the upper hand against the Trojans. 

From within her Wooden Horse, Penelope vows to do whatever it takes to end this war once and for all. Whether she is truly up to the task, the Gods will see… 

~

Growing up in Greece children are taught to beware of Pandora’s Box: though something may appear to be enchanting on the outside, what it hides within could bring devastating consequences. 

Penelope was thankful the Trojans did not heed the warnings behind this tale. 

The people of Troy underestimated her and her armies, for no greater reason other than the fact they happened to be women. All of Troy assumed that Greece was in a dire state, for why else would the Greeks have to resort to sending their women to fight in their men’s stead. 

While most of her comrades were offended by this notion, Penelope saw an opportunity to finally turn the tides of war in their favor. 

Everything went according to plan. By pretending to sail their ships back home the Trojans assumed the Greeks to have surrendered. This left them cocky, feeling invincible, to the point they did not question the mysterious “gift” left at their gates. 

They brought the beautiful wooden horse into the heart of their palace, not knowing their very own “Pandora’s Box” was about to be unleashed upon their city. 

~

Penelope let out a deep, steady breath.

Inside that very same wooden horse her comrades sat patiently by her side, their clenched fingers fidgeting on the hilt of their weapons. The eyes of her sisters-in-arms were hungry with scorn, their red and gold armor eager to be stained with Trojan blood.

Penelope looked at each and every woman who had chosen to place their trust in her. The Queen of Ithaca’s confidence had never been higher.

The night was silent and the atmosphere calm. There would be no perfect moment rather than now. 

Penelope stood. In her posture she managed to portray the grace of a Queen, the strength of a Spartan, the innate blood-lust of a warrior of Ares, and the anger of a Mother. 

Her comrades, women who fought both willingly and not against their society’s views to stand by her side, who were forced to part with their futures and families over the course of 9 years, they gazed upon their Captain with only the highest of respect and admiration in their eyes. 

After all, it was only with her leadership that they had all managed to survive up to this point. 

All 600 of them. 

Penelope held her head high, addressing her comrades. Her friends. Her sisters. 

“Alright my sisters, listen closely.” She spoke to them in a hush but commanding voice. “Tonight, we make the Trojans pay.”

“These years of war have killed us slowly, but now we'll be the ones who slay!”

Penelope’s eyes dulled in the middle of her speech, her mind momentarily retreating into its most sacred place. 

Home. Ithaca. 

“Think of your husbands and your children!” 

Many of the women grew angry, recalling how many of their spouses were now permanently maimed and broken because of the Trojans. How their children were forced to grow and mature without their mothers, all because of this damn war. 

“Your families wonder where you've been! They're growing old and yet you're still here,” 

Penelope couldn’t help but look at her hair, not as vibrant as it once was 9 years ago. She couldn’t allow this war to go on for another decade. Not after so much time has been lost already. 

“Do what I say and you'll see them again!”

“Yes ma’am!”

~

The women snuck out of the wooden horse, moving with as much quiet and stealth as they were physically able. Each soldier remembered her role, of what Penelope had ordered of them.

“Aegiale will lead the charge,” 

“Clytemnestra will flank the guards,”

“Helen of Sparta will let our mates through the gates to take the whole city at large,”

“Eune will shoot any ambush attack,”

“And little Glauca will stay back,”

“Eury, free Menelaus and the others,”

“Hermy, help your betrothed, kill Hector's home and brothers!”

“Yes ma’am!”

Penelope watched from the shadows, beaming with pride at the success of her army. 

Her plan was coming to a monumental success. The Trojan warriors, men trained in the art of combat from the moment they could walk, were being hunted from the shadows, one by one, as if they were livestock. 

Less and less guards roamed the halls, their bodies lying against each other in a hidden corner of the palace. The palace walls, once an elegant and expensive marble white, were now stained with the vibrant stains of war-red. 

Troy was now vulnerable. 

“Find that inner strength now, use that well of pride!” Penelope reminded her sisters. “Fight through every pain now, ask yourself inside: What do you live for? What do you try for? What do you wish for? What do you fight for?”

Every woman reminded herself of why it was she fought, their answers ranging deep within themselves. 

“What do you live for? What do you try for? What do you wish for? What do you fight for?”

Penelope stared down at the helmet in her hands, unable to forget what it represented. It was specially made just for her, with a metal said to be indestructible. She remembered when it was given to her, only one day before she was forced to leave her home. 

She could never forget the tearful gaze, apologetic and filled with love, of the man who gifted her this helmet. 

Oh how she missed him. 

“Odysseus…”

How she longed to see those intelligent eyes once again. 

“Odysseus…” 

She couldn’t help but recall the time those eyes beamed with pride as they fondly looked down at the very symbol of their love. 

“And Telemachas…” 

Her baby girl, whom she had only known for a single year. What did her baby look like now, 9 years later?

“I fight for us…” 

This was for them. 

“I fight for us!” 

Fighting in this war, aiding her cousin, empowering her fellow woman, following the whim of the Heavens themselves. All of it was for them!

Not for Greece. Not for the Gods. Not even for her. 

For them.

What do you live for?

“Odysseus.” Penelope whispered to herself. 

What do you try for?

“Telemachas.” Penelope stared at her reflection from the helmet’s surface. 

What do you wish for?

“I'm on my way,” Penelope placed the helmet over her head, taking hold of the very spear that started her down this path. 

What do you fight for?

She was going to end this. 

Now. 

“Attack!”

The Greek army made themselves known by jumping out for the shadows, startling the Trojan warriors unlucky enough to be missed during their secret infiltration of the palace. 

Penelope and the others wasted no time inflicting their carnage upon the once untouchable Kingdom. The Trojan warriors were startled at first, desperate to know how their indomitable palace could have been so easily infiltrated. 

It did not take long for them to ready themselves, determined to keep their Kingdom from being painted with even more of that familiar war-red. 

But it was all for naught. 

It did not matter that the Trojan warriors were male; it did not matter that they were bigger, stronger, and more durable than their female counterparts.

For the Trojan soldiers fought to maim, whilst the Greek soldiers fought to kill.

These women recalled how they were forced to watch their husbands leave, only to return one year later with their bodies shattered and spirits broken. They recalled that feeling of loathing and helplessness, unable to even think about avenging their men until permitted by the Gods. 

They remembered the shame on their husbands’ faces for not being able to protect them from fighting in their stead; remembered how their children cried, pleading for them to stay, for the younglings were unable to bear the thought of both parents being destroyed by the war. 

No. Troy had every chance to end this war. Now they suffer just as Greece has, for even the Gods have sealed the kingdom’s fate. 

Tonight, Troy will die.  

~

Penelope, now inside the main court of the palace, speared the throat of one of the Trojan men attempting to slice the back of one of her women. 

There was only a small army of them within that court, both Trojan and Greek alike. The majority of the Greeks fought at the gates of the palace, keeping their adversaries from storming the vicinity.

The warriors fighting by Penelope’s side, only her most trusted sisters-in-arms, worked together to keep themselves and each other alive. Using their many hours of intense training, innate battle prowess, and the blessings bestowed upon them by Ares and Artemis, the women had achieved what was previously thought to be impossible: gaining the upper hand against the Trojan men. 

Bodies littered the dance floor of battle, all of them of Troy. Through Penelope’s strategy, not a single Greek had fallen.

However, as she speared and cut down her enemies, Penelope couldn’t help but notice the Trojan soldiers began fighting sporadically; as if they were desperate to keep her and her comrades from infiltrating the palace any further. 

But why? 

Suddenly, Penelope felt a sharp sting to the back of her head. 

“Ahh!” She collapsed to her knees, rubbing her head to find some relief from the dimming pain. “Who was that?!”

Quick to recover from her bound of shock, Penelope threw herself back to her feet and gripped the hilt of her spear. She was prepared to defend herself against the Trojan foolish enough to strike her. 

What her eyes fell upon, however, was not one of the large, daunting men of Troy. 

It was a Peahen. 

However, this was no ordinary peahen. She was not a modest brown like the rest of her peahen kin. No, this one had her feathers bursting with the familiar blue and green seen on her male equivalents. 

The feathers atop her head had the appearance of a crown, her eyes glowing an eerie white and gold hue. 

Somehow, against all logic, Penelope found herself more fearful of this fowl than she had ever felt against the Trojan armies. 

“A vision…” A voice suddenly appeared in Peneleope’s mind. 

Penelope knew instantly that the voice was coming from the Peahen. The voice was feminine, deep, and full of power. She spoke the same way Penelope would when sitting upon her throne, addressing her subjects. 

“Of what is to come, cannot be outrun. Can only be dealt with right here and now…” 

From that moment she knew the true identity of the Peahen. 

Hera. 

Queen of the Gods. 

Mother of the Heavens. 

“Tell me how.” Penelope asked of the divine Queen.

“I don't think you're ready...” 

The Peahen was honest with the mortal Queen about her thoughts, yet continued with her declaration.

“A mission. To kill someone's son, a foe who won't run, unlike anyone you have faced before…” 

The Peahen walked with grace as she spoke, silently beckoning the mortal to follow. The disguised Goddess led the Greek to a secret staircase, the very thing the Trojan were trying to hide. 

Penelope instantly understood what the God-Queen was commanding of her.

“Say no more!” Penelope ran up the stairs, confidently holding her spear in anticipation. “I know that I'm ready!”

“I don't think you're ready…” 

Penelope pushed the double doors at the end of the stairs open, eager for her spear-point to make contact with Trojan flesh and to finally end this war once and for all. 

She would not have been surprised to see a bulking man waiting for her behind those doors. After everything she’s gone through in the past 9 years, Penelope genuinely thought herself to be immune to the kind of surprises the Gods could throw at her. 

Unfortunately, the Gods never did follow the whims of the mortals they ruled over. 

There was no man standing behind those doors. In fact, no one stood behind them. 

There was only a cradle. 

Penelope’s eyes widened. Unconsciously dropping her spear, she walked over to look inside the beautiful bassinet. 

There he was. Not a cruel man filled with sin, but a babe. Innocent. Pure. Sleeping with not a worry in the world. 

“It's just an infant…” Penelope couldn’t help but hold her hand out, stroking the child’s untainted cheek. “It's just a boy…”

The baby leaned into the warm hand caressing his cheek, recognizing the hand of a mother. 

“What sort of imminent threat does he pose that I cannot avoid?”

The Peahen, once perched on the ledge of the window in front of the babe’s cradle, spread her wings and flew into the sky. 

“This is the son of none other than Troy's very own Prince Hector!”

Clouds started to surround the flying Peahen. They wrapped around the fowl, slowly covering the beautiful bird in white mist. In seconds the Peahen disappeared, the place where she once hovered now a perfectly shaped mass of clouds formed into the appearance of a tall, beautiful, regal woman.

Commanding the clouds around her with a flick of her wrist, the woman shaped one of them into a tiny baby. The cloud-baby morphed, transforming into the figure of a large grown man. 

“Know that he will grow from a boy to an avenger! One fueled with rage as you're consumed by age…“ 

The cloud-man brandished a cloud-sword, slicing at smaller clouds shaped into a crowd of defenseless people. 

“If you don't end him now, you'll have no one left to save…” 

Hera commanded some of her clouds to begin filling the room, surrounding Penelope and the cradle. She modeled the clouds into the form of a very beautiful, very comforting, very familiar man. 

“You can say goodbye to-”

Penelope’s eyes widened, staring at the face of the man whose life she cherished far more than her own. 

Odysseus… 

This cloud-Odysseus, more detailed than any of the other cloud creations Hera had created, stared longingly at the Greek woman reeking of blood. He smiled, that oh-so familiar smile she had longed to see for the past decade.  

“You can say goodbye to-”

Odysseus…

The cloud-Odysseus gazed down at the baby in the cradle. There was this look in his eyes, this desire to cherish and protect. Penelope knew this look well, for it could only be known by a fellow parent... 

No! 

Penelope couldn’t do this. She was a mother! Her role in life was to treasure and protect children, not discard and kill them! 

“I could raise him as my own!”

“He will burn your house and throne.” 

No… 

No! 

Penelope needed to find a way!

“Or send him far away from home!” 

“He'll find you wherever you go.”

 There had to be another way!

“Make sure his past is never known!” 

“The gods will make him know.”

Why was Hera doing this? Why couldn’t she understand!? Penelope can’t do this!

The mortal threw herself down, bowing before Hera in a desperate final plea. 

“I'd rather bleed for ya, Down on my knees for ya-”

“He's bringing you down on your knees…”

The Queen of Ithaca couldn’t hear herself, the Queen of the Gods overpowering everything within her. 

“I'm begging please-”

“Oh, this is the will of the gods!”

Hera’s voice boomed. Commanding. Declaring. Inevitable. 

Penelope shook her head, slowly and in disbelief. Her chest felt heavy and constricting, making every breath a difficult and pained one.  

…how…

“Please don't make me do this…”

How could she be expected to do this? Something so evil, so cruel? 

Something so monstrous?

“Don't make me do this…”

Penelope didn't know when she began to weep, only realizing when her tears splattered on the cold, hard ground. 

She felt a hand being gently placed atop her bowed head. This hand, once commanding and brimming with devastating power, now offered an ironic sense of comfort. 

From one who was also a Queen.

A Soldier.

A Wife. 

A Mother. 

“The blood on your hands is something you won't lose…” 

The hand’s presence disappeared, along with the many clouds surrounding her person. 

The cloud-Odysseus, whose eyes Penelope couldn’t bear to meet, took hold of her chin. This hand, as large and scarred as she remembered it, held her with a firm gentleness she knew was reserved only for her. 

He tilted her head up, compelling her to meet his gaze. Again, Penelope recognized the look he was giving her. It was the same one he always gave her: eyes filled with a warm, comforting love. 

“All you can choose is whose…”

The cloud-Odysseus faded away, still gazing upon her with those eyes until he was fully gone. 

Would the real Odysseus continue to look at her that way, knowing what she was about to do? 

…

Penelope waited.

… 

And waited. 

…

And waited. 

…

Nothing. 

Hera’s presence was no more. 

All that was left was Penelope, blood-soaked and guilt-ridden, and the baby, still sleeping with not a worry in the world. 

Penelope said nothing. She could only stare at the boy, the very symbol of innocence before it was tarnished. 

Slowly, soundlessly, Penelope picked the boy up. She cradled him gently in her arms, similar to the way she held Telemachas after bringing her into the world. She wanted to make sure he was comfortable. 

Then, without a word, Penelope made her way to the roof of the palace. 

[jilyandbambi]

the people who are pissed at Natalie's death and writing off the show bc it turns out the point of Yellowjackets wasn't some 3rd wave feminist #yas queen parable about rejecting societal norms and finding true freedom in the woods remind me of the annoying Intro to Womens Studies nerds who interpret the ending of The VVitch--y'know the movie where a malevolent entity uses starvation and grief to destroy the minds of an entire family so that he can isolate and sexually enslave the isolated & devastated eldest daughter for eternity--as a cathartic feminist metaphor.

people, the principal says it in the first minutes of the show: "all i know is that what happened was a tragedy. A terrible tragedy."

A. TRAGEDY.

because the Yellowjackets worked their asses off to get to Nationals. It was the biggest moment of their lives. They LOVED soccer. They were FREAKING PUMPED to get to Seattle and win the title. This was their DREAM.

because Jackie was a happy, perky kid from suburbia who was looking forward to going to college with her best friend. who found something to love about literally everyone but was doomed because you can't rally a starving team with a rousing speech and an ice breaker

because Shauna was going to go to Brown and grow up and find the confidence to be HERSELF instead of Jackie's best friend. And then she and Jackie have a fight and Jackie dies because of Shauna's betrayal, Shauna's jealousy, Shauna Shauna Shauna. Jackie will be a child forever because of Shauna, so how could Shauna dare grow up? She can't put her grief to rest because Jackie was never laid to rest because of Shauna. So Shauna comes out of the wilderness and marries Jackie's boyfriend and has Jackie's child and gets older year after year but never grows up because one night when she was 17 and scared she and Jackie had a fight and Shauna waited until the morning to say "I'm sorry."

because Taissa had a plan, had goals, had a future already mapped out. Nationals. Howard. Law school. Becoming a hot-shot NY lawyer. Because she got out of the wilderness and kept chugging along with The Plan because she HAD TO. But none of it is real to Taissa because you can't live and be numb, and Taissa has to be numb because if she lets herself celebrate the wins that she managed to swim while her fellow survivors sank, she’d have to remember that she too killed and ate her friends to get there. And Taissa--so distressed by what they did to Jackie she dissociated into amnesia--can't accept that, can't have that be who she is because it would ruin everything she wanted for herself. And then it's all ruined anyway.

because Lotte was a girl with psychic powers AND schizophrenia. She needed her meds!! Stopping treatment cold turkey is painful, disorienting, and SCARY, she needed support, she needed someone to tell her what was real and what wasn't because without her meds it was impossible for her to discern for herself. She needed support but got made into a god instead. And now a false prophet is all she knows how to be.

You get the idea.

The Yellowjackets didn't find freedom from society and the chains of the patriarchy when their plane crashed. They found starvation and guilt and loss and pain. The wilderness isn't a god of decadence and pleasure and ecstasy. It takes more than it gives. The team got to survive in exchange for slavish devotion and grief, and their childhoods, their dreams, their achievements, the people they loved more than themselves, the lives they’d been perfectly happy to keep on living.

They get rescued, go home, and grow into fractured adults who all, to varying degrees, actively make their lives worse because functionally, they're still scared, guilt-ridden kids lost in the woods who know no matter what that nothing will ever be okay again.

NONE OF THEM are glad that this happened. NOT ONCE does anyone say, "You know I'm grateful for this awful traumatizing experience because without it, I never would've [X,Y,Z]" NOT EVEN MISTY, who broke the transmitter so she could have friends for 5 more minutes. THIS SHOULD TELL YOU SOMETHING.

Yellowjackets is a TRAH-JAH--DEE.

[extra-v1rgin]

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Ilya starts out as a girl living in the 1860’s Russian empire. Her family is relatively upper class, but not nobles or any sort of royalty. She grew up very obsessed with romance in both novels and real life.

At the time Russia and Japan had relatively good relations, and the reason for her visit isn’t important. She goes right at the start of the Japanese civil war, but ends up trapped there after fighting breaks out.

Scared and in an unfamiliar country (and only speaking the barest amounts of japanese) Ilya is easily lured into the eternal paradise cult. A commune full of hot men and women lead by an even hotter “god” means she barely needs any convincing.

Ilya is barely an adult, and while she’s smart academically the girl has no street smarts. Douma could eat someone right in front of her and she would hardly blink. In fact he’s sinking his teeth into her neck and she’s convinced they’re having some hot vampire sex. (Vampires being much more prevalent in Russian folklore as opposed to Japanese demons.) The woman bites Douma back, and caught off guard her teeth manage to penetrate his skin.

After an unhealthy dose of demon blood (and Douma unceremoniously kicking her out) Ilya is left to learn about being a demon on her own.

(Is this how being turned into a demon works? no? Well it’s funny this way so be quiet.)

She simply fucks around for about 50 years. Her strategy is to avoid other demons (and slayers), keep moving, and eat anyone who captures her eye. While she never develops a proper blood demon art the woman has a knack for changing her appearance to better attract whoever she’s chosen as her meal. Though Ilya can only hold these alternate identities for a few hours.

Her regular form shifts over time too. At first she adopts Douma’s rainbow eyes. A decade later a shopkeep escapes from her, his black hair stays with her as a reminder. Overtime her eyes and hair and hands shift. Some nights she looks almost human, other nights eyes emerge from her face in a myriad of colors.

Though Ilya tries to keep herself hidden, she inevitably comes across other demons. While in the middle of a fight with one (and loosing pretty badly, Ilya is… rescued? Rengoku swoops in, intending to kill both demons. The second her attacker and the slayer are occupied the girl hides away.

Rengoku consumes her every thought. Through their one interaction (and a bit of clever spying) Ilya finds herself throughly obsessed. Even finding other attractive humans to eat doesn’t fill the hole in her heart.

Instead she wants to be the kind of person Kyojuro would like. The man is long gone by now, but Ilya still has an idea of what a slayer would hate. That idea mostly involves man eating demons.

Going cold-turkey is a bad idea. The demoness mostly stumbles around growing weaker as she isolates herself. She’s sick and delusional, mumbling about true love. Ilya has always been a little insane but on the brink of starvation she’s worse than ever.

Eventually Tamayo finds the girl. She’s not even conscious enough to talk to the woman. It takes quite a bit of time for the doctor to help her. After a few weeks she finally makes it back to normal(ish). Ilya hasn’t regained her human sensibilities. She’s just aware enough to survive on bits of blood like Tamayo and Yushiro do.

Of course the center of her affection is now Tamayo (at least while Rengoku isn’t in the room with her). Yushiro isn’t too pleased, but Ilya can clean and her bedside manner isn’t half bad.

Because she doesn’t provide anything particularly necessary Ilya is allowed quite a bit of freedom as well. With how devoted she is to Tamayo it’s not a concern that she’d spill any secrets.

They certainly don’t expect her to make friends with a cute pair of demon slayers, but there’s technically nothing wrong with it either. Mina and Ayaka aren’t too keen on Ilya, but they’re not actively trying to kill her. It’s a weird little group. Ilya doesn’t help with much of anything. She just makes great moral support standing there and looking pretty.

Eventually they help her expand her blood demon art. Ambush attacks become a lot easier when the duo of fighters look like a pair of trees. The illusions don’t last long, and only work if the target is standing still, but it’s a big leg up. Demons aren’t expecting the slayers to have anything more than swords on their side.

Meanwhile Rengoku is halfway across the country getting murdered by Akaza. Word spreads to the hashira first, and then trickles down to the rest of corps. Neither of her comrades inform Ilya. They’re worried about getting murdered for daring to brake her precocious fantasy.

Time moves forward. The corps grow closer to fighting Muzan. Tamayo moves forward with her concoctions. Yushiro has given up on his human life and there’s no telling if his sickness would return or not. But alongside Nezuko, Ilya is happy to return to a human life. She never had preference for her form, but being able to eat a wedding cake would be nice. Kyojuro might like that better too.

Given Ilya’s mostly irrelevant status she’s allowed to take the serum at the butterfly estate. The demon doesn’t mind children and the trio of girls at the house are used to dealing with all kinds of odd characters.

At some point in between all of Ilya’s random rambling it slips that Kyojuro’s dead. It doesn’t matter which girl told her. She’s completely distraught. The love burning in her lungs is the only thing keeping her going.

It’s easy to slip out. She excuses herself to go to the restroom. (Do demons use the bathroom?) Finding herself in the depths of the infinity castle the only thing on her mind is killing upper moon three.

If she was weak as a demon then Ilya is dead weight as a half-human becoming more human by the second. She’s lucky Akaza doesn’t eat women. There’s not even a real fight. Akaza flings her through a few walls. Her regeneration is slowing to a crawl. She probably won’t die for a few hours, but unless someone finds her then there’s no chance of surviving.

When Tomioka (and Tanjiro) battle Akaza the slender man is all she can focus on. Ilya is still working through the haze of becoming human, and dizzy from blood loss. She’s not quite as crazy as before, but the actions are easy to distort when she can hardly see.

Tomioka (and Tanjiro) notice the women. Their too kind to ever dream of leaving her. Having been mostly secluded at the butterfly estate for several weeks she hadn’t properly met either of the men. They assume she’s a civilian who got trapped in the chaos or another slayer caught out of uniform. The solution is the same no matter what. Helping her to a more secluded area her wounds are bandaged and she’s left until the battle ends or kakushi find her.

She survives with mostly intact body parts. Through the haze of her demonic memories Ilya can’t remember much. Nobody around her is even capable of patching up her memories. Even if they could nobody has the time.

Ilya reads a lot. She catches up on the last 80 years because most of it is fuzzy figures and faint emotions. In between crying and throwing up she does help where she can. Disinfecting injuries and cooking is something she can manage. Everyone is rather nice to her too. She tries to act like a normal teen. She feels like one in some way. All the hot men and women around her are even more of a fantasy than Douma’s cult was. (Ilya faintly knows that she was tricked in most ways.)

Mina and Ayaka are kind enough to help house her. They got along with demon Ilya, but human Ilya is a real person they can talk to. Most of the corps funds are spread out amongst surviving corps members. It’s simple enough to buy a house with the small fortune shared between the trio.

Ilya keeps in touch with as many (hot) people as possible. Tomioka never answers her letters, but he’s available and handsome and rich! Nezuko makes a good companion. She’s the only other person who can relate to knowing people and still not having any idea who they are. Looking at Senjuro makes her heart tear in half even though she doesn’t know why. She does know that the boy reminds her of her (long dead) younger brothers, so Ilya forces herself to talk to him anyways.

Yushiro is a bad conversationalist. He keeps alluding to things she should know. Whenever he mentions Tamayo tears hide in his lashes. He hurts the most to talk to. Anytime she asks the man why he doesn’t want to be human he goes quiet.

It’s a weird sort of ending. There’s no bang or flash that concludes it with excitement. She starts to age again. There’s a big celebration when she finally turns 19. Eventually she’ll show Mina and Ayaka her homeland. They’ll work at a bakery of grocery store once saving run out and finally become normal(ish) people.

[xtruss]

Why Parents Still Try to Ban ‘The Color Purple’ in Schools

Four decades after it was released, Alice Walker’s enduring classic remains at the forefront of the battle over what is available on library shelves.

— By Erin Blakemore | August 22, 2023

Alice Walker reads from her Pulitzer Prize- and National Book Award-winning novel, The Color Purple. Since it was first published in 1982, the critically acclaimed book has been targeted by movements pushing to censor the book's subject matter. Photograph By Johnny Crawford, Atlanta Journal-Constitution/AP

When Alice Walker’s The Color Purple hit bookshelves in 1982, it blew away critics, became a nationwide bestseller, and endeared itself to readers who found pain and inspiration in its pages.

But in the years since its publication, the acclaimed novel has become famous for another reason: It’s one of the most challenged books in the nation, withstanding criticisms aimed at its depictions of race and sex, its portrayal of abuse and agony, and even its spelling and style.

Here’s how The Color Purple became one of the nation’s most banned books—and why it continues igniting controversy to this day.

“A Spiritual Experience”

Walker, who grew up in Jim Crow-era Georgia, described writing the book as a “spiritual experience” inspired by the strength and grit of the Black Southern women she made her heroines. The epistolary epic follows 40 years in the lives of its main characters Celie, Shug, and Nettie, who survive incest, domestic abuse, and racism in the early twentieth century—all while carving out joy, independence, and dignity along the way.

When it was released in 1982, the book immediately caught the attention of both the critics and the reading public, who praised the book for its portrayals of both the brutality and sorrow of racism and sexual violence and its celebration of Black women.

It was critically acclaimed, winning both the Pulitzer Prize and National Book Award for 1983, and inspired a popular 1985 film directed by Stephen Spielberg and starring Whoopi Goldberg and Oprah Winfrey.

Banning ‘Purple’

But something else accompanied the novel as its renown grew: controversy. Though educators recognized the book’s potential as a teaching tool, some parents and community members objected to its presence in school curriculums and libraries.

The first major attempt to ban the book occurred in 1984, when a parent petitioned against its use in an Oakland, California classroom. In a 1985 essay, Walker recalled reading frequent updates on “how the banning was coming along” and watching the book’s sales skyrocket.

“I felt I had written the book as a gift to the people. All of them,” Walker wrote. “If they wanted it, let them fight to keep it, as I had to fight to deliver it.”

Fight they did. Though the Oakland schools ultimately decided not to remove the book from classrooms, the book has consistently been challenged nationwide since its publication, repeatedly making it on the American Library Association’s list of most frequently challenged books.

Why Parents Challenge the Book

Attempts to ban The Color Purple usually contest Walker’s use of slang and profanity, the book’s portrayal of brutal Black men, a same-sex encounter between the two main characters, and its depiction of sexual violence in its first pages.

“One can eat from a cafeteria or a dumpster…but one would hope those placed in charge of our children would have exercised better oversight,” wrote one parent in a characteristic 2013 challenge in Brunswick County, North Carolina. (The book has survived multiple attempted bans in the Brunswick County school district.)

But the same pages that provoke ire in some have inspired others.

Oprah Winfrey, who endured sexual abuse as a child, later recalled reading the first page of The Color Purple “and thinking ‘Oh God, I’m not alone.’” After Winfrey co-starred in the first movie adaptation of the film, she began talking about her own experiences on her talk show.

TV historians now credit the self-disclosures inspired by Walker’s book with helping Winfrey develop her winning confessional interview format.

Modern Attempts to Ban the Novel

Efforts to ban The Color Purple have continued during a recent wave of attempted book bans.

In 2022, the American Library Association documented over 1,200 attempts to ban or restrict library materials—double the number of challenges from the previous year—and most of which attempted to remove multiple titles from shelves.

Among them was The Color Purple, which was removed from library shelves in Florida’s Indian County School District at the request of a parent group that objected to 156 of the books on school shelves, claiming the books contain everything from pornography to critical race theory. Though the district’s school board declined to ban The Color Purple, it did remove five of the other books on the list and approve a permission slip allowing parents to restrict their child’s use of school library books.

With news of an upcoming movie adaptation of the acclaimed musical based on the book, The Color Purple is poised to regain the national spotlight. Only time will tell if the movie will spark more challenges—but for now, the legacy of a book one 1982 reviewer called “indelibly affecting” is secure.

To date, the book has sold over 5 million copies—a number sure to rise as a new generation meets its heroines.

[howl-of-the-blood]

And a Volček songster will tell you this story…

Long time ago, before first cities were built and nature was everywhere, humans and wolves lived in solidarity. Wolves protected humans at all times, especially during the night when demons and foul creatures lurked the most. Humans, on the other hand, offered shelter, healing and food whenever troubled wolves approached their villages. 

One year, unusually heavy rain struck the land. This downpour lasted for weeks and all living creatures suffered. When rivers and lakes near settlements began to flood them, humans sought help and wolves immediately came to their aid. The beasts swam over dangerous rapids to reach the trapped humans, carried children on their backs and gave their lives without a second thought. Many wolves died during that flood, but almost all humans survived.

Over time human kind prospered and developed. They started making tools and building cities and soon they closed the gates of their homes to everyone but their own kind. Yet wolves still faithfully protected them whenever humans ventured into forests and mountains.

Decades passed and one hot summer a terrible fire engulfed wooded areas. No animal, including wolves, could fight such a terrible force. They begged for help howling for entire days and whole nights as they helplessly ran away from their certain deaths. But humans were safe behind their stone walls and they decided to pay no heed to their painful cries. Even when wolves came to the gates while their hides were burning, humans turned their heads away.

However, not all humans were so ruthless. A group of brave and loyal men and women ran outside their walls, carrying buckets of water in desperate attempt to save the forest and their inhabitants. But they were too few and the fire was to powerful. They all died and their bodies turned to ashes.

Gods saw the treason of humans and decided to punish them. Dažbog*, the god who gave life to humans and the one who had commanded wolves to protect them, was furious. He cursed the disloyal humans by making them weak and susceptible to beings of Nav** and demonic creatures. Every todorian, psoglav, ala and aždaja, every rusalka and drowner, every omaya, nežid, mora and kemza*** will want to devour human kind. And there will be no more wolves to aid them.

As for the valiant few that gave their lives to save their animal guardians, gods decided to reward them with second life. However, after ashes were gathered, no deity was able to determine which burned remains belonged to humans and which to wolves. So they decided to mold a new being, one whose form and abilities would resemble both human and wolfish; and thus a new race was born, favored by all gods for their vigor and nobility. 

[mrialorreine]

Bleeding Heart.

Fandom:

방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS

Characters:

Jeon Jungkook

Min Yoongi | Suga

Kim Taehyung | V

Additional Tags:

Vampires

royality

duke - Freeform

Eventual Smut

Manipulation

Love Triangles

Possible Threesome

holy water needed

Blood

Language: English

Summary: Kim Taehyung is the only one of the Kim family who has remained alive during the cold vampire attack in 1653.

Min Yoongi is the Duke of Nevadia, a small town near London whose parents died because of the Kim Family.

Jeon Jungkook is a vampire who was turned against his will.Who will win?

It all had started with a mad scientist who decided to play with Mother Nature. With the power of death and magic they created the perfect soldier to fight alongside human beings during the war invasions in England. The country had to be saved at all costs, and for that a price was paid. The perfect soldier, according the scientist who mind you was a female, possessed inhumane strength, excessive abilities in mind control, pale unbreakable skin, immortality and animalistic thirst for blood. Not just any blood, human blood. The scientist's name was Vampirica Demario. And thus the "perfect soldier" soon received the name "vampire" in honor of the creator. They looked like human, spoke like human, acted like human but they were not human. Instead of red blood theirs was black like tar and sour like vinegar. It contained acid that could burn the human skin in an instant, thus why humans had no chance against those creatures. After England was saved with the help of vampires, it took exactly five decades for the vampires to raise up and press for power. In 1653 a cold vampire attack happened. Those creatures turned against their own creators and villages burnt down to the ground as children and women were brutally slaughtered. No one had a chance against them, not even King Kim's knights nor the soldiers. Whoever crossed their path found their demise pretty quick. No one knew how to neutralize those creatures and because of that, the humanity suffered the consequences of Vampirica Demario's choice. The creatures had managed to reach the royal family's castle and murdered everyone in their sight except a small five year old boy who was hiding in the underground dungeon, shaking and silently crying in pure fear. This was Kim Taehyung, he was the only son of the royal family and the only one who had managed to survive at that time. Walking down a path of dead slaughtered and drained bodies wasn't something that a five-year-old should go through, but life wasn't as easy as it seemed to be despite being a royalty. Taehyung was well-hidden for twenty more years far away North in an abandoned castle with the remained survivors of the attack. At first people were in pure fear of what was about to come, however they didn't lose hope that those creatures would evolve and develop a weak spot. Their prayers were answered when the vampires began bleeding to death under the sunlight and falling on the ground before they vanished in thin air. It was a pure coincidence as well, while a woman was chanced by a vampire during the night, she tripped in a small field covered with flowers that were called "Bleeding heart." The vampire would burst into flames as soon as those flowers made contact with his skin. From then on, the coin quickly flipped. Humans began using those two weaknesses to keep themselves safe. Women and children would roam abroad daylight only and carry with themselves that said flower which was the kryptonite for vampires. No one really knew the reason behind that flower and what exactly contained to turn vampires in a bomb, but they were grateful for it. It was like a sign from God. During that time, Kim Taehyung gracefully took what was rightfully his. He took over the title of "Prince" of the Kim bloodline and everyone loved him for his strong sense of justice, compassion and extreme love for his people. Taehyung refused to become a King because he knew that there would be no better King than his beloved father. The prince helped everyone to build up small villages nearby, gave jobless people land to work over and brought a lot of economic success to England. He was also very intelligent, determined, reserved, stable and a gentle man. Everyone admired his abilities and respected his decisions. Taehyung managed to renovate the castle and completely transform it into his own new kingdom, rightfully so. And soon enough, the vampire attacks had decreased. It was a win against humanity. It wasn't long enough until humans began capturing vampires and using them for their own twisted experiments. Taehyung believed that there was never redemption for everything horrific that has been done so he would capture humans and vampires who did wrong and simply execute them without remorse.

London, England.

Blue flowers. Weren't they pretty? A huge garden with blue flowers that only grew as the seasons came by. Taehyung was always mesmerized. He was standing in the large balcony, brown eyes roaming over the horizon as the sun kissed his pale skin beautifully, making it have that special glow everyone noticed. Brown curly locks of hair were caressed by the warm wind as the scent of those blue treasures intoxicated the prince. Lips pressed in a thin line, his features were soft and gentle. He rarely smiled, but when he did, it was as if the world turned around. "Your highness" a small voice echoed behind the prince. Taehyung blinked a few times and slowly turned around, hands gracefully resting on his back. A small girl was standing not too far away from him. She was blonde, blue - eyed and wore a pretty yellow dress that contrasted with her eyes. "I believe you are here to know what happens in the next chapter of the book, Eve?" Taehyung gently cooed, voice soft and sweet like honey. The girl giggled quietly and nodded her head. Without many words being exchanged, the prince walked inside with the small child. Eyes finding the red book with leather cover and golden letters as he slowly situated himself on the large chair as the girl sat by his side, excitedly swaying her legs back and forth as she waited for him to start reading. He glanced at her for a moment, admiring her beauty. Eve was a child he never thought would survive. When she was brought here, her parents were murdered by a vampire clan and Taehyung felt as if it was his responsibility to take care of her - so he did. He accepted her under his own wing as the little sister he never thought he'd have. "Do I have something on my face, sir?" she asked concerned from the long silence. "Not at all," he replied. Slowly the prince reached for the vase of pretty blue flowers and put one in her curly locks of hair, just behind her ear. "Here, now you look prettier like that." he spoke in amused voice as Eve let out a quiet giggle. Slowly the prince opened the book. "Chapter thirteen, AND then he turned him to the other knight, that was sore wounded. But when he saw the other's buffet, he would not fight, but kneeled down and said, Take my cousin the lady with you at your request, and I require you, as ye be a true knight, put her to no shame nor villainy..." before the prince could continue further, there as a very obnoxious high pitched female voice behind the closed large wooden doors of his chambers. The prince let out a quiet sigh. "Come in," he invited the woman in, she was one of his maids. The woman rushed inside, hands fumbling together nervously, worry was written across her features. She looked as if she had seen something horrific. "Your Majesty, Lord Seokjin is here. He says that it's an urgent matter. He is waiting for you in the dungeons." Taehyung furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. When did Seokjin came back from Ireland? "Very well," the prince spoke lowly, closing the book as he looked at Eve's disappointed face. Soft chuckle escaped Taehyung's lips. "I will promise I will read it to you later." he reassured the little girl, reaching to fix the blue flower in her hair. "Now you may go play in the gardens with Laura," he glanced at the woman then back at Eve. "I will be back soon, I promise." he murmured and with that, he rose up from his seat, fixing his white shirt and button up golden coat before heading out of the chambers. He crossed the long hallways of the castle with fast steps, brows furrowed. Pushing the black wooden doors at the end of the hallway open, he climbed down the stairs as darkness overtook him. There was only a dim glow from the torches hanging on both sides of the walls, no windows. This place, Taehyung hated the most. He disliked being here, but he trusted Seokjin. He was his right hand after all. A honest man and a loyal human who deserved the title that Taehyung had given him. The prince's body shivered in horror as he heard muffled screams while he was making his way toward the dungeon. He followed those horrifying sounds to one of the many cells at the very end of the hallway. He stopped in front of the door, face now twisted in pain as that piercing made his ears hurt. Opening the door, Taehyung walked in and he saw a woman laying on the ground, furiously trembling. She had dirty ripped dress covered in red and black. Then it hit him. Glancing at Seokjin and two more guards, Taehyung swallowed thickly. "What is the meaning of this!" he insisted as the woman kept screaming in pure pain, eyes rolling into the back of her head. It was almost like she had seizures or she was possessed by a bloody demon. The prince has never seen something so horrific in his life. "Our worst fears have came true, Prince." Seokjin straightened his shoulders. Taehyung noticed that he had also blood on his hands and he looked very pale. Everyone in the room were quiet except of the female screaming in agony. Soon her screams died and with one last roll of her eyes, she stopped moving, eyes remaining wide open. The prince took a step forward but was stopped by the guards. "For your safety, your Majesty." "What is going on, Seokjin?" Taehyung asked. "She was in transition." the Lord spoke in a low tone, helplessness in his tone was evident. It made Taehyung anxious. "Transition to?" "She was transitioning to a vampire, Sir."

[aboveaverageallie]

A Retrospective

I’ve been reminiscing a lot lately. Usually late at night, which isn’t god for not crying at the moon, but whatever, she’s never judged me for it before.

I think a lot about how much has happened to me in the last two years. I fell in love for the first time. I graduated from high school; I lost friends, and I gained them. I started college, then I felt real heartbreak, I left college, then started a new one and changed majors. I gained family, I lost family, and I saw some I haven’t in a decade, then loved them enough to make up for the lost time. I worked, I studied, I cried, I lived, and I survived, somehow, but I did.

Now, I know some have gone through more in less, but life isn’t a challenge of who can go through the most, or at least it shouldn’t be.

Recently, an exceptional woman shared some of the best advice I’ve ever received. “What doesn’t kill you may make you stronger, but fight the desire to let it make you mean or bitter.” Woah, right? In one sentence, my paradigm shifted. Suddenly, it didn’t matter if someone went through more struggles than I, they have all made me, well, me.

In full honesty, I don’t like that me every day. Which is normal. I am just human, after all. But again, I’ve come to some powerful realizations. Some days I may not love me, but someone is this world always will.

I have an an incredible Mom who would burn the world down if she just thought it would make me smile. I have a godfather that I know will do everything in his power to keep me safe and happy. I have a godmother who has always been the angel on my shoulder giving me advice and keeping my feet on the ground for longer than I think she understands. I hope she will now. I have incredible grandparents; grandmothers who passed down stories filled with love and hope, and given me amazing women to look up to. Grandfathers that hold a wisdom to them that only grandfathers really can, but I hope to one day hold a fraction of that same wisdom. Two, more, aunts who have shaped me into the person who sees kindness before all else, and who have embedded a deep love of learning, teaching, and just a touch of whimsy to keep me honest. Then there is my chosen family, my best friend who makes the world so much easier to live in, and makes every hard night just a bit shorter. Then, of course, her family who has always been there to lend a hand, even when they had no reason to.

I may have been through a lot these past two years, and maybe I really haven’t in the whole grand scheme of everything. But I’m decisively not the same me, I’ve grown.

I’m better, stronger, but nowhere near colder or bitter.

And I think that’s the best part.

[the-eternal-quest-for-balance]

Dear Friend,

Last May, I was sued by the leaders of the organization I founded, Project Veritas.

After firing me months before that, in their attempt to break my spirit, the board members I had trusted and selected to oversee the organization I founded from my parents’ home, publicly and brutally disparaged me.

In Project Veritas' lawsuit against me, they wanted to stop me from pursuing my work as an investigative journalist. Please make no mistake; they tried to silence me and put me out of work forever.

But that wasn’t all . . . they wanted to humiliate and shame me into hiding.

Today, I need your help fighting back.

While defending myself against their ongoing lawsuit, I've filed a countersuit against Project Veritas and need to immediately raise $74,019 to cover my outstanding legal fees and replenish my retainer.

I'm extremely grateful for any amount you can donate.

I didn’t make this decision to countersue lightly.

Project Veritas’ leaders have gone on air to claim I suffer from Aspergers and narcissism, calling me “Mr. Aspergers Narcissist," they have made unmistakable false claims that I'm "totally drug addicted,” among many other outrageous and slanderous comments.

I‘ve had a girlfriend harassed, personal text messages released, and even had my medical records leaked.

Now, I have been attacked for nearly two decades by the Left. I can take a punch. I can get knocked down and get back up. But I admit that the systematic attacks by Project Veritas’ leaders knocked me to the floor like nothing has in my life.

Betrayal is an understatement. Public humiliation by men you trusted as brothers offers a new type of pain that carves itself into your soul.

I survived by throwing myself into my work with OMG. And you’ve seen those results.

But even that has been challenging due to the bald-faced lies endlessly repeated by these folks I trusted.

Donors questioned me, prospective business partners shunned me, and our enemies on the Left just sat back and took notes to use against me in the future.

If it were not for help from men and women like you who maintained their faith in me, I'm not sure where I would be today.

I thank God for your ongoing support.

And I need you to step up again to finally put this matter behind me.

My attorneys estimate Project Veritas' lawsuit against me and my counterclaim, which would allow me to recover attorney's fees, will cost another $228,000. And that's if everything goes as planned.

But I must come up with $74,019 within the next 10 days.

Will you help? Any amount you can donate will help knock down that large amount.

This isn't about grudges or infighting. 

It is far larger than that, and when we beat this and turn the tables, it will shut down future attempts to take me down.

I can’t prove it yet, but I don’t believe in coincidences. My ousting from Project Veritas came right after I released the biggest story of my life about COVID-19's manipulation by one of the world's largest drug makers, Pfizer.

Winning this will send a clear message that I am not alone. I have you by my side and am eternally grateful for your loyalty.

Thank you again. Please donate today to Liberty Guard's Legal Defense Fund to help me fight back.

In Truth,

P.S. I will let the court decide the damages to my counterclaim. This isn't about money. It's about principle and NEVER backing down. So please, help me stand firm and fight back by donating today.

[realityhop]

"Both men and women are invested in maintaining the fiction that women are the fairer sex, not operating out of ordinary incentives just like everybody else. If you disagree you're either autistic or an incel or both which means you're right-wing and you're not entitled to an opinion."

— Anna Khachiyan | YouTube (2023) 30:35

"The romantic image is that of a knight in shining armour, who arrives on a white charger and saves the princess in distress. […] The expression ‘I can do it without you’ is the guiding principle of recent blockbusters with female lead characters within a totally different set of male–female relations. Beatrix ‘The Bride’ Kiddo (Uma Thurman’s character in Kill Bill) leaves her employer and former lover Bill, whose baby she is carrying. He tries to murder her in revenge. She survives the attempt and will eventually kill the father of her child. In The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, Lisbeth Salander (played by Noomi Rapace) takes revenge on her father and, more broadly, on all the abusive men around her. Furthermore, she rescues the male lead character when he’s in danger of falling victim to a pervert who’s been raping and murdering women for years. Jennifer Lawrence plays Katniss Everdeen in The Hunger Games, a young woman who’s chosen to take part in a ‘game’ organised by the government, in which 12 young people are forced to fight to the death. Katniss not only kills all her opponents, but also saves her male comrade. And he is in love with her, although she does not return the sentiment. We are now a world away from the two most famous women in 19th-century literature, Anna Karenina (Tolstoy) and Madame Bovary (Flaubert), for both of whom suicide was the only escape from their romantic failures. Yet 400 years earlier, Cervantes had already burst the bubble of romanticism with his tale of Don Quixote, a knight who battles dragons to impress his beloved maiden, Dulcinea. The dragons turn out to be windmills, Dulcinea is an ordinary barmaid, and the knight is nothing if not errant. Today’s knights are not only errant, but also afraid."

— Paul Verhaeghe, Says Who?: the struggle for authority in a market-based society (2015/2017)

"Is achieving gender equality even the right goal? Will women ever just be able to enjoy life without everyday oppression?"

— Maureen Devine-Ahl, How to Make the Matriarchy: The Power and Promise of Prioritizing Women (2020)

"Epicurus was content to enjoy life in a secluded garden when most of humankind was struggling for survival.”

— John N. Gray, The New Leviathans (2023)

"To be clear, the Bible rebukes men who would use their power in life to dominate, demean, or belittle. That is not the way of manhood as Genesis portrays it. The Bible’s response to the dangers of power is to demand men subordinate themselves to the sacred purpose for which power exists, to God and his way. Our Epicurean age balks at that, of course. Even as today’s liberals decry male leadership and denounce men as trash, they insist on the sanctity of personal choice."

— Josh Hawley, Manhood: The Masculine Virtues America Needs (2023)

"Men who demean or subjugate women are not free, because they are signaling their secret fear of female power, which remains near total in the still murky and anxiety-ridden realm of procreation." — Free Women, Free Men (2017) "In Blake, Rousseau’s tender nature mother makes a fin-de-siècle leap into daemonic monumentality. Brother to Sade, whom he could not have known or read, Blake revives the bloodthirsty goddess of ancient mystery religion, sensational with Asiatic barbarism. He longs to defeat her. But by attacking her, he creates her and confirms her power. Ironically, he becomes her slave and emissary, a voice crying in the wilderness." — Sexual Personae: Art and Decadence from Nefertiti to Emily Dickinson (1990) "Today’s shallow literary theorists, mired in their own subjectivity, deny there are any universals, but all human beings must confront eternal forces of time, fate, and mortality, which have always been the preoccupation of great art." — Religion Belongs in the Curriculum (2017) "As the Hindu boom subsided in the 1970s, neo-Christian sects like Jim Jones’ People’s Temple rose to prominence. The Children of God, founded in 1968 as Teens for Christ by “Moses” David Berg in Huntington Beach, California, were negligible in number but came to public attention when they loudly prophesied that the U.S. would be destroyed by Comet Kohoutek in January 1974. The group continues under the name “The Family” and is regularly excoriated by conservative Christian watchdog groups for its practice of free love (called “Flirty Fishing”) as well as its heretical beliefs that Jesus was sexually active and that God is a woman." — Cults and Cosmic Consciousness: Religious Vision in the American 1960s (2003)

— Camille Paglia

Blessed mother, save us

[arjaandsimoni]

Prologue

In the distant past, magic was as common as anything. Gods walked the earth and stood alongside humanity, aiding their peoples in driving back the darker forces of this world. But their enemies were many and their allies could not fight forever. Slowly… very slowly… they were pushed back. The gods began to lose their battle against those who would prey on the mortal peoples of Earth.

Countless centuries ago, an event occurred that the secret histories refer to as The Void Rain. Meteorites made of a strange metal that came to be known as ‘Void Iron’ rained down across the world.

This metal was deadly to the supernatural, it consumed magic in its entirety. Mortal magic users would find themselves helpless, stripped of their spells, and supernatural beings would be eaten whole by this baleful metal.

Mortal men however realized that they had naught to fear from it and could even use it. The meteorites were full of much dross leaving only a small quantity of workable material, but this gave rise to a new weapon against humanity’s foes. Weapons that could utterly destroy the supernatural: The Mundane Blades.

In South America, a macahuitl known as the Path to the Underworld cut back the minions of Mictlan.

In India, the Kris of Mahakala forced back the rakshasa and their naga allies.

Japan was home to a katana known as Oni no Nayami, the Oni’s Bane, and it lived up to its name well.

And in Ireland, Claiomh Dorcadas, the Sword of Darkness, became the shadowy mirror to the gift of the Tuatha De Dannan, Claiomh Solias, the Sword of Light.

With these weapons did humanity ensure their survival… but some began to realize they no longer needed the protection of their former allies and drove magical beings out of the world entirely, forcing them into a mirror realm known only as the Supernatural World.

Their foes defeated, humanity spread across the Earth, multiplying and giving rise to new religions and new sciences, and slowly the Mundane Blades were, one by one, lost and forgotten.

Until recently.

Ireland, several decades ago, a castle in the wilderness of the country.

Eliza Fullmoon knew she was dying. Nobody came back from a gut wound like that.

The elderly woman glared up at her son, spitting weakly into his face. “Where did ye find th’ bloody thing boy?!” she demanded. She was such a small thing now... her spells shattered, her wings gone, and a great hole through her middle.

“As if I would tell you, mother.” he sneered. Across from her was Franklin Fullmoon, and she knew with a sick feeling in what was left of her gut that he was to succeed her. The first Patriarch of Clan Fullmoon. The clan had always been led by women before now, passed from mother to daughter, but Franklin had broken this tradition. He was still a young-ish man, his hair only streaked with grey, wearing naught by a mail jacket over a teeshirt and jeans for their duel.

She gasped slowly, her body growing cold even as it fought to stay alive, but she knew it wouldn’t be long now. As she lay there she heard their patron’s voice once more in her mind.

She smirked, “Morrigan has a message fer ya boyo, a gift ta start yer career.” she chuckled, and then she blinked, and her eyes were full of stars, and she spoke in a voice not her own… and she told him his future.

When a daughter of Clan Fullmoon rejoins her cousins in the East, there will come a reckoning.

Its gluttony shall be your undoing. The legacy of Franklin Fullmoon will be no more, burnt to ash and scattered on the wind.

Franklin scowled, and in a blur he sliced her head clean of her shoulders.

“I damn well doubt that…” he glared, turning and stalking out of the room.

From that day, everything changed for Clan Fullmoon. Magic of any sort was outlawed under pain of death and their mission changed dramatically. No more would the clan merely protect people from the predations of supernatural beings. Franklin’s goal was nothing short of genocide. Slaughter them all, down to the last.

He ruled the clan with an iron fist for years… but he never forgot his mother’s words. He always watched and waited for the day that her prediction would come to pass. And several decades later… it did.

Next Story

[ordersreality]

Ratækorn Nañjali

Against the Cult of the Reptile God

Acorn: Leather armor, Cloak of Protection +1, Club +1, Sickle +1, Druidic Focus

2023 April 19 Ratækorn Nañjali. Druid Level 1/Fighter Level 10 XP 85,923.

The1 middle-aged veteran sat under an elm tree doing two important things, watching the widow come to terms with the war at her door, and nourishing her own memories.

The old woman sat on a bench talking to the ghost of her husband. He sat, listened, offered gestures to encourage her work. She didn’t mind the troglopods being killed, best for everyone.

She watched it from her window. Once the birds and squirrels started cheering she knew something was happening worth watching. It even called to her orcish heritage. If only she were forty years ago she’d have been out there, taking heads and beating her chest.

And this woman enjoyed the fight every bit as much. She showed it in her face, her yell.

It’s just, she didn’t dance on their graves. She treated their dead with honor, respect. That called to her love of her life. Portano liked a good fight, a fun fight. Kind of how she fell in love with him. He called to her orcish blood she’d hidden for so very long. He didn’t want to kill. He held back with them too week, and walked away when they’d already lost and wanted to prove they hadn’t.

Both women knew it would take some time, and this would settle. It would have to, or the Voice2 would call to her and make her go.

She smiled.

He arched his brow.

“At my age, by the time I get to that war it’ll be over, and I’ll have nothing to do but grunt.”

They laughed.

That told the veteran they would be just fine.

The fresh druid also played the fight through her mind. What makes a captain good at her job is remembering what went right and what went wrong. Do it right and surviving a loss can make you stronger.

Her time in Geldenvan and the Vale also showed her that a good memory is a wizard’s ally, one that waters innovation and cultivates good fortune. A fluid and flexible mind can stand where others would break.

She’d incorporated the druid’s craft in a fight twice now. Why did the Entanglement work today but not yesterday? Is the temple that dead, that dark? Or was that spell at work, distracting her.

Of course she lingered on the troglopod’s stink. Sure, to make a skunk sick with envy.

The icon of the bull, she kept in her pouch was growing on her. When Owlthullr explained the origins of her horns and tail she retrieved the statue one of her sons had carved for her. Crude though it was, her son had carved it with his hands.

Her son, and the three are sure to inherit this legacy, nañjali, even if they never see a sight of it. Maybe they know something.

She studied it, resting on the cloak that helped her in that fight. Redundancy would not help her. She already carried too much. The only things that bothered her were the shine and the thought she might have stolen it.

One3 possible way to learn if it were abandoned existed.

“Gilno.”

“The boy who lives at a farmhouse just off the road to Hemehiem.”

“There is a rundown little house across that road.”

“The nar-Sheign, disappeared a couple decades ago. Never really heard from them since. Good farmers, better musicians. Might have even had enough spirit to be wizards.”

“And none thought the house worth taking over?”

“Cursed, they say. Who knows what that really means. Can’t even say it is haunted”

Her husband rocked his head.

“Maybe you could be a sinter4 and clean that up for us.”

“See what I can do.”

Portano shot up and off to the pond, again. The woman saw that as time to take care of some household chores.

Well, that left the question in the light, and unanswered.

Tired from the fight and in need of healing she settled deeper on her knees and pulled the hood of the new cloak over her head, and let the elm and screamers lull her to sleep.

· • ° • ·5

2023 April 20 Ratækorn Nañjali. Druid Level 1/Fighter Level 10 XP 85,932

AC 15 Move 30 HP 101 #AT 2 +3

S: 13 (+1) D: 16 (+3) C: 16 (+3) I: 15 (+2) W: 18 (+4) Ch: 15 (+2)

1 Awen, water, ⽔ Flow. Muse, inspiration, Guiding dæmon, blessing, (blood, blot) of the gods, ancestors, elves, etc.

2 A genetic response to a wizard or dwarf’s will which would enslave the orc and their kin to that wizard’s will.

3 Investigation 17+2 9xp

4 Orcish: Sintr, healer, comedian, wizard, all rolled into one.

5 Journal’s XP 9:

[protagaster]

Part 2 of the Warrior!Penelope Swap AU

I really wanted to introduce the crew's Golden Trio, or the ladies who are Penelope's version of Eurylochus & Polites. I think you'll all really like them :)!

(Cross-Posted on Ao3)

Full Speed Ahead

Finally, after having won the Trojan War and securing the future of the Greek world, Penelope and her crew brave the sea to make their way back home.  

~

Finally, after 10 long years, it was over. 

10 years of what many assumed would be endless warfare. 

10 years of watching husbands and wives be ripped away from each others’ embrace, of parents having to wipe the tears of their children whilst hiding their own, of being forced to say goodbye to the homes they spent their whole lives searching for. 

10 years of having to watch their friends and comrades be forever changed by the turmoils of war. Some were killed, those lucky few, while the others had the rest of their lives to adapt to their new bodies. 

10 years of constant battle, both mental and physical, in an effort to survive whilst knowing they would never be the same again. 

It was a long and hard-sought after ending, but against all odds the Greeks had managed it.

The Trojan War had officially come to an end.  

But by the Gods it wasn’t easy. 

Throughout that very first year of war everything that could have gone wrong, well, it went wrong. 

After the battle that took place subsequent to Helen’s rescue, practically every Greek man found his body to be damaged beyond repair. While many were expected to recover after long periods of rest, being told they would one day be able to wield their weapons in the name of spars, hunting, and training, they knew they could never again fight in a battlefield. 

That’s when the decree from the Gods came. 

Greece still needed an army. Because their men were no longer fit for war, it was the duty of the women to take their place in the battlefield. 

Once a daughter of Sparta, and later chosen to become the student of the God of War himself, Penelope was first to be picked for combat; her closest friends were picked shortly after. A small percentage of Ithaca’s women, those who were of age and considered skilled enough to survive Troy, were also forced to follow suit. 

It was a difficult decade, everyone could agree. There were times when even Penelope began to lose hope of this war ever coming to an end, all the blood and screaming permanently etched into her memory. 

But now, thanks to her tactical mind and ferocious combat prowess, the Greeks emerged victorious! 

No longer will she need to worry about every single decision of hers being questioned by her subordinates. 

No longer will she have to worry about the sounds of screams haunting her memories, hearing them at night as they keep her awake. 

No longer will she have to worry about a single one of her comrades being killed for the sake of pride, for she no longer had any enemies that would wish her nor her sisters harm.

~

Penelope sighed happily. 

Only moments ago she had bid a tearful goodbye to her cousin; Helen and Menelaus boarded a ship to Sparta, ecstatic they now had the rest of their lives to spend together. The same went for the rest of her sisters-in-arms, ready to finally live out the rest of the lives they had left behind. 

Something the women of Ithaca were hoping to achieve. 

Standing at the front of her ship, Penelope watched as the place that was once known as the Kingdom of Troy shrink smaller and smaller with distance. Soon there was no more land, only miles and miles of shimmering blue ocean water.

Penelope did not mind. 

After all, Ithaca was a kingdom surrounded by beaches. The ocean was like an old companion; though she may be unpredictable at times, you could always count on her to be right where you left her. 

She let the sea breeze blow through her hair, smelled the scent of sand and saltwater as they envelop her senses, and felt the cool air of open water embrace her like an old friend. 

Taking a peak over her shoulder, Penelope looked at each individual member aboard her main vessel. 

44 women. 

44 out of 600, to be exact. While Penelope knew she could trust every member of her fleet, especially with their gratitude in them all coming out of the war alive, there was just something different about the 44 women aboard her main vessel. 

There was an extra level of trust she put into these women in particular. Penelope knew inside her heart that out of her entire fleet, the members of this ship would be the first to support her no matter what.

Pulling herself out of her thoughts and returning to the moment at hand, Penelope watched as each of her sisters l did her individual part to ensure the ship navigated the wild waters quickly and smoothly. 

Looking over at the other 11 ships following her own, Penelope could see the women aboard those crafts were doing the same. 

Behind each and every woman's hard work and determination was a sense of excitement; finally, after 1 year of helplessness and 9 years of struggle, they were making their way back to Ithaca. 

“Six hundred friends,” Penelope sang out proudly, her sweet voice a melody flowing merrily with the sea's wind. “All of these women under my command! With only one goal in mind-” 

“Make it back alive to our homeland!” Her comrades finished for her. 

“Six hundred friends,” Penelope couldn’t help but be amazed as she ogled the powerful waves supporting her fleet, unable to help stretching her hand over the horizon.  “Six hundred miles of open sea,” 

Penelope eyebrows furrowed despite her cheer, for she knew deep within that her story was only just beginning 

“But the problem's not the distance-”

“It's what lies in between.” The others agreed. 

“And Ithaca's waiting!” Penelope belted. 

“Ithaca's waiting!” The others repeated.

“My kingdom is waiting!” Penelope's eyes glazed with yearning, knowing her home was only so far away. 

“The kingdom is waiting!” Her sisters exclaimed. 

Penelope smiled to herself, looking up at her still outstretched hand. Right there, standing out against the suns’ beams and tides’ gleam,  her wedding ring sparkled against the light blue background. 

Not once, these past ten years, had she allowed the ring to part from her person. The ring, a band of silver and ivory that was both modest and gorgeous, symbolized so much more to her than the union between her and her beloved husband. 

To Penelope, it was a reminder of the goal she’d work so hard to achieve for the past decade. What she promised herself she’d accomplish, no matter what it took. 

“Odysseus’ waiting for me!” 

Waiting...

“So full speed ahead…” 

Penelope gave her wedding ring a quick kiss, something she couldn’t help but do every time her eyes lingered on it. Letting her arm relax to her side, Penelope’s perspective of the sea once again claimed her eye. 

“Full speed ahead…” 

The sea breeze blew through her long dark hair, loose and free to sway like the waves below, and kissed her blooming cheeks, giving the appearance of a heroine of legend to all who gazed upon her.

“Captain!” 

Penelope was quick to give her full attention to the one who called out her name, for she recognized the voice of the women whose guided and stayed by her side since the day she first called Ithaca home. 

There she was, the shortest, strongest, and most trusted member of Penelope’s main crew. 

Ctimene.

Though she was small, Ctimene was not one to be underestimated. Even though it was her brother who was blessed with Athena’s guidance, the Goddess of Wisdom was also apt to pay special attention to his younger sister. 

Not only was she an occasional skeptic and formidable warrior in her own right, she was, of course, the princess of Ithaca. Fourth in the Kingdom’s hierarchy behind only Penelope, her brother Odysseus, and her niece Telemachas.

Her short wavy hair, mirroring that of her elder brother’s, tousled in the sea’s gale, perfectly framing her stern but caring eyes. Ctimene was one of the people whose beauty could never fade despite the amount of blemishes she obtained. Somehow, the faint scar going over her right eye only made her more attractive to the men who gazed upon her.

It was no wonder Eurylochus fell in love in such little time. 

Ctimene, with one hand on her hip, placed her other hand on her much taller captain’s arm. She gestured to a cluster of wooden barrels that were supposed to be filled. 

“Six hundred friends! Six hundred friends with starved mouths to feed,” she wordlessly commanded one of their comrades to tip a barrel, revealing its very empty contents. “And we've run out of supplies to eat.” 

“Curse the war, our food stores depleted.” 

“Six hundred friends,” Ctimene clenched her fists, unsure of whether she could withstand even more suffering for her friends. 

“Six hundred reasons to take what we can!” Ctimene, unsure of what they should do with this dilemma, looked to her sister-in-law with curiosity. “So captain, what's the plan?”

“Captain, what's the plan?”

Everyone wondered what plan the brilliant Penelope, Queen of Ithaca, the very reason behind the war’s end, could come up with in the face of this problem. 

Penelope only smiled, gesturing Ctimene to look up at the sky.

“Watch where the birds fly,” 

“Watch where the birds fly,” Her crew repeated after her. 

“They will lead us to land!” 

“They will lead us to land!” 

“There we'll hunt for food, my second in command,” Penelope spoke with courage, nothing but the utmost confidence in herself and her crew. 

“Now full speed ahead!” Penelope ordered her comrades to follow the large flock of birds, all of whom were heading east. “Full speed ahead!”

Ctimene, with a satisfied smile and complete trust in her captain’s plan, was quick to help Penelope direct the ships to their desired destination. 

“We're up, we're off, and away we go!” 

“We're up, we're off, and away we go.” The women all chanted as they managed the ships, all of whom with full faith in their Queen.

“Full speed ahead!” Penelope continued to cry with enthusiasm. 

“We're up, we're off, and away we go!” 

And with that, the 12 ships set sail following their avian guides. 

~

The fleet had been following the birds for quite a while, so long that the sun began to make contact with the ocean; the combination of their hues made for an enchanting mix of orange, pink, and blue. 

All this time Penelope had not once stopped herself from looking up, even when her neck began to sore and her eyes grew heavy. The birds should have found their way to the nearest land by now, so why hadn't they chosen to land just yet? 

“Captain!”

The second voice to call out for her that day, this one also familiar. However, this voice had a much more merry tone compared to the previous. 

Penelope met the eyes of the woman who seized her attention, unable to control her smile even if she wanted to. 

“Circes!”

Circes was the youngest of the friend group, though not by much. Like Ctimene, Penelope had first made Circe’s acquaintance shortly after making herself at home in Ithaca.

Once a simple village girl with nothing more than her optimism and clothes on her back, Circes and Penelope were quick to become close friends after the Ithacan native made an effort to teach her new Queen all about Ithaca’s culture and customs. Ctimene was almost always by Penelope’s side at that time, naturally leading to a bond between the Circes and the princess as well. 

After years of sparring, weaving, and simply enjoying the atmosphere of their home with each other as company, it was no wonder the three women grew as close as they are. 

Circes was a beautiful woman, which only made it more confusing once others realized she had never married. She was taller than Ctimene, though shorter than Penelope. Circes had light brown hair as long as Penelope's, always braided to the side. There'd always be a pink ribbon streaked between the locks, the ends knotted in a way that it almost resembled a rose; many of the other women would joke she was practically born with it.

Circes was a cheerful young lady who saw the best in others, eager to use words before resorting to weapons. However, do not mistake her altruism for naiveté; Circes was still a warrior and survivor of the Trojan war. 

She just preferred to use the same philosophy that blessed her with a Goddess’ name. 

“Look!” Circes pointed toward the horizon, where a tiny speck was beginning to grow larger and more distinct as the ship inched closer. “There in the distance, I see an island, I see a light that faintly glows,” 

It was just as Circes said. 

Now practically within swimming distance of the mysterious island, every woman could see a bright orange glow emanating from within the foliage.  

“Maybe they're people lighting a fire. Maybe they'll share some food, who knows?” 

… 

No, Penelope thought to herself, feeling something was wrong. 

From a single glance the captain could sense something sinister about the Island. It was perfect. 

Too perfect. 

“Something feels off here…” Penelope looked up at the Island’s sky, confirming her suspicions. “I see fire but there's no smoke…” 

Ctimene, one who truly embraced Ares’ philosophy, already had one hand ready on the hilt of her broadsword. 

“I say we strike first! We don't have time to waste so let's raid the place and-” 

“No.” 

Both Ctimene and Circes gazed in shock, for Penelope was a stickler for manners and not one to interrupt others mid-speech. However, the woman in question just couldn’t allow herself to entertain Ctimene’s plan for even a second. 

Penelope can’t needlessly kill anyone else!

She just can’t…

… 

…that time…the infant… 

That was the whim of the Gods! She had to do it! 

She had no choice…

…

But this time she does! Penelope can choose whether she wants to show ruthlessness or mercy! 

And this time, she chooses mercy. 

“Circes gear up.” Penelope ordered of her friend. “You and I'll go ahead.” 

“You and I'll go ahead!” Circes repeated happily, realizing Penelope wanted to try things her way. 

“We should try to find a way no one ends up dead.”

Ctimene, however, just could not allow herself to agree with this plan. 

“We don't know what's ahead!” The second-in-command reminded, hoping her sister would give this “plan” some more thought. 

Unfortunately for Ctimene, Penelope was as stubborn a woman as a woman could be. 

“Give me 'til sunrise,” Penelope pleaded, placing a reassuring hand on Ctimene’s shoulder. “And if we don't return-” 

Penelope gestured to the large army of women ready to fight in her name.

“Then six hundred friends will make this whole place burn!” 

Beckoning Circes to follow her, Penelope ran toward the rafts attached to the side of the ship’s hull. 

“Now full speed ahead!” 

Circes and Ctimene glanced at the other, aware that despite their strong bond they both had very different approaches to their views and life and means of self-preservation. 

Still, orders were orders. 

“Full speed ahead!” The rest of the crew chanted amongst themselves. 

With a small shrug, Circes ran to meet her captain from within the small raft.

Ctimene, despite a light shake of her head in what was clear disapproval, went on to command the rest of the women in her captain’s stead. 

“Full speed ahead!”

“We're up, we're off, and away we go!” Penelope untied the raft’s bindings, Circes quick to lend a hand. 

We're up, we're off, and away we go-

With both women having released the raft from all of its bindings, their weapons on their persons should the worst come to be, they were prepared to sail. 

“Full speed ahead!” 

Lowering the raft onto the calm black of night’s ocean, Penelope and Circes began to row themselves toward the lone isle.  

We're up, we're off, and away we go-

The others watched Penelope and Circes sail to the island, hoping for the best and prepared for the worst. 

Despite her previous dispositions, Ctimene watched them with a look of genuine worry. She prayed to the Gods above for her friends’ safe returns, for who knew what they could encounter in this journey.  

We're up, we're off, and a-

“Full speed ahead!”

It was not long, practically minutes if one were counting, before Penelope’s and Circes’ raft made contact with the island’s sand. 

[bastart13]

I’ve had a lot of fun recently coming with with female mercenary characters for TF2. I really liked where the concept art was going with making them all individual characters rather than simply “if the characters were women”

The design style is fantastic for distinct simplicity so I tried limiting myself to basic colours and shapes to make these

and I’m pretty confident they pass the silhouette test!

Character names/bios under the cut!

Heavy

Name: Marie Jarrett

Age: Mid 30s-40s

Height: 6’5

Nationality: American (Hawai’i)

Bio: Raised in Hawai’i, growing up she developed more and more drastic measures to fend off the tourists swarming her home. Land mines, electric gates, guard dogs, none could stop them for long until she picked up her trusty minigun to send her message. But even still, she hears the click of cameras in the night.

Eventually, she left her home to explore the world. Enthralled with the image of seeing different wonders across different countries, she’s always disappointed. She’s travelled every continent and still finds nothing that lives up to her expectations. No place, no person. She’s outgoing and open to new experiences, only she usually hates them.

Mercenary life is a great opportunity to earn money, see sights, meet new people and kill them after they don’t meet your expectations. She hates New Mexico and takes every opportunity to destroy the buildings and insult her employer’s tastes. She finds some people she tolerates within the mercenaries as she hasn’t yet visited where they live. However much she hides it, she has a deep, instinctual fear of the Engineer.

  Soldier

Name: Linda Smith

Age: Early 40s

Height: 5’10

Nationality: Canadian

Bio: Canada’s perfect woman… or so she claims. The star of war propaganda posters and clearly decided for the role because of her great tactical assets. She’s there to motivate people into the fight. To spread the glory of Canada and inspire her allies. She believes she has higher orders than anyone else she’s working for (ignoring the fact she hasn’t heard from them for a good few years) and is determined to follow them to the letter. She may have lost the letter but she remembers it good enough.

She represents the ideals of Canada: polite, friendly, apologetic, and pacifistic. None of these are contradicted by how she throws around rockets. That’s not what Canada means. She’s superior to everyone around her and graciously educates them on how to improve through example. She loves her French and British allies and will kindly tell the Americans how to be better.

She’s motivating and actually fairly competent, it’s just that competency might be misdirected. She’s damn good at rocket jumping, shooting her shotgun, and supporting her team, it’s just that you really need to get it in her head when she’s meant to be doing it.

Scout

Name: Patricia “Pat” Herald

Age: 50s-60s

Height: 5’4

Nationality: English

Bio: In her years, Patricia has learnt fear… and she’s learnt to laugh in its face. She wakes up at the crack of dawn, ready to leave at the drop of a hat, boots polished and laced the night before. Her years have taught her that with a gun and Jeremy by her side, she can survive!

The postal route of Appleby-in-Westmorland.

She’s been chased by geese, dogs, cows, elderly ladies, and when her postal route had her delivering post during the war, she developed a taste for blood. Nothing will stop her from delivering her post on time. Every day before 6am, every postbox will have their letters and parcels. One chucked across barbed wire, another house jumped over a river, another house miles into the country with dogs on her heels, she WILL get there and she’ll get there FAST.

But after a couple of decades, she needs a change of scenery, and the Gravels wars are just the holiday she’s needed. With her trusty black and white cat by her side (ignoring the yowling and scratches) she reckons it’ll be great time to enjoy herself.

Quotes: “Oh, hello, Human Jeremy.”

“Bloody fucking Ethel! Building her house out in the country… surrounded by bloody hills and rivers!”

Pyro

Name: Nikephoros Papadopoulos

Age: Late 20s

Height: 5’11

Nationality: Greek

Bio: Survival of the fittest. Nature gives and nature taketh away. If you’re not prepared for that, well, Pyro is more than happy to teach you the lesson. They embody the old values of the Greek gods: f*ck or fire. She indulges her every whim and unfortunately for the people around her it often involves arson.

One year for the Olympic games, she was given the noble title of torchbearer. On complete coincidence, the Olympics shifted to primarily water sports. Underwater sprints became the hot new trend!

She’s merry and chatty, never missing the opportunity to talk to other people about herself and her world view. She can’t wait to spread her gospel to help other people improve themselves (though she always gets a laugh out of those who go out screaming in the flames). She can’t help it if she has a sadistic side.

Engineer

Name: Mikawo Kojima

Age: Early 20s

Height: 5’0

Nationality: Japanese

Bio: Japan’s early-rising industrial revolutions in technology are best exemplified in Mikawo, a young upstart determined to rise to the top, learning everything she can and building the best of the best. Unfortunately, she’s never been the most creative but when you happen upon other people’s blueprints and happen to construct them first, what does it matter who came up with the “concept”?

At first, she appears to be every bit the quiet and demure young woman people expect, only when silk hides steel, that steel is a massive automatic sentry gun. She’s motivated by a distinct contempt for the people who get in her way. Especially those who try to be better than her. She enjoys the flexibility of English, especially the cusses, and she has no reservations about swearing up a storm, even if she still refuses to give a straight rejection, preferring instead to give a small “I’ll think about it.”

Quotes: “This GUN is fair use on your head!”

Demo

Name: Qingzhao Zeng

Age: Late 40s

Height: 5’3

Nationality: Chinese

Bio: The Zeng family has a long-standing family trade in demolitions and explosives, traced down the line all the way to the Song dynasty. Luckily, Qingzhao has sisters so, you know, it’s not all that important. She doesn’t even have to stop smoking and drinking. She hasn’t blown herself up (that much) so clearly, it’s working. Precision is for other people to worry about. She’s apathetic to a T, having seen everything. Measurements come from the heart. A pinch of gunpowder there, a splash of paint there.

Her family has a deep-seated rivalry with the DeGroots. Long ago in ancient China, a Zeng matriarch woke up in a cold sweat, a message from the stars to let them know of their Scottish rivals. Due to being a continent away from each other, the families have actually met each other only a handful of times, but the hatred needs to be kept up because, what if?

Turns out, Qingzhao has met Tavish even before finding employment under the Mann brothers. One drunken night, the two of them had a short, whirlwind friendship, sharing secrets and declaring each other to be their best friends. Luckily for them, they both forgot the night, merrily hating each other as tradition dictates. However, headaches and flashes of this terrible night haunt them both. Could they really get over centuries of hate and become friends?

Absolutely not.

Sniper

Name: Ansa Aaltonen

Age: 27

Height: 6’2

Nationality: Finnish

Bio: Snow. Sugar. Cocaine.  Her life is run by many white powders. Ansa is a professional sniper, with a sharp eye and a steady hand… when she isn’t also high as a kite, lost in the snowy wilderness of Finland and screeching to the sky. When you’re up in the dark and cold, you need something to give you a little pep in your step. It just so happens Ansa liked having a bit more pep than most.

She’s there for a THRILL. There’s nothing better to get your heart pumping at 200 beats per second than a good headshot, embracing the chill, and a hit of sugar. She no longer feels the cold or heat or even pain, shrugging it off until she collapses. It just makes her feel alive. She’s efficient, fast, and determined to get her kicks.

She has an unusual taste, living off fermented fish and tree bark. To most people around the Finnish wilderness, she’s nothing more than an urban legend, but she’s very real and she’s looking for some excitement, happily found in employment in the Gravel wars.

Spy

Name: Yvonne Pleshette [Real name N/A]

Age: 30s

Height: 5’8

Nationality: American (California)

Bio: The silver screen calls to his woman and she’s happy to answer. She trains herself to act in every possible role she can, having a wide range of accents, body languages, and backstories. To truly test herself, she gave up her identity long ago. Lately she’s been going by the name “Yvonne.”

The world of Hollywood is cutthroat and full of backstabbers so she learnt to cut throats and stab backs. While some people tell her the terms are metaphorical, nothing else has given her more roles. Living the mercenary life is simply gathering research for her roles (and earning some much-needed money in the process).

She presents herself as a classic film star, despite being a minor name at best, mostly because she’s always changing it. She has high standards but a cheapskate personality. She’s a bit of a bitch, happily criticising others, especially if they’re working with her. What can she say? She’s a diva.

[Slutshames other spy]

Quotes: “Ugh, actors these days, they know nothing about getting into character. They still have names.”

“’AHHHHH—’ Wait, no. Once more from the top. Scream in agony.”

Medic

Name: Susan Monks

Age: 30-40s

Height: 5’7

Nationality: American (New Jersey)

Bio: The American Healthcare system. Is there a more glorious sight? The exploitation of pain. The money. The debt. The fear it strikes into the entire population it’s designed to help. To Susan, there’s nothing better. She squeezes every last drop from the people she helps, working on a purely transactional lifestyle. She’ll never help someone unless she has all of their insurance information and the payment secure in her bank, and god forbid she ever accept help. It’s not like she can afford her own prices.

She’s very self-aware of her own corruption and proud of it, though she refuses to be exploited in the same way, suspicious of anything “free” but also doing her best not to pay for anything.

That said, she doesn’t much care for how good a job she does. In her eyes, asking for surgery is one thing. Asking for successful surgery is another. She has a variety of skills in both cosmetic and military medicine. She just wishes the license board would stop sending her “malpractice” letters. Ugh, stick to your own business. “Disappearing” all their messengers is becoming a pain.

Quotes: “Why get someone else to do something for you when you can scrounge a way to do it yourself?”

[kcrabb88]

Queer Movies/Books/TV Shows for Pride Month!

Happy Pride everyone!! For your viewing/reading pleasure I have made a (non-exhaustive) list of queer media that I have enjoyed! 

Movies/Documentaries

Pride (2014): An old tried and true favorite, which meets at the intersection of queer and workers’ rights. A group of queer activists support the 1985 miners’ strike in Wales (complete with a sing-through of Bread and Roses + Power in a Union)

Portrait of a Lady on Fire: On an isolated island in Brittany at the end of the eighteenth century, a female painter is obliged to paint a wedding portrait of a young woman (or, two young lesbians fall in love by the sea, and you cry)

God’s Own Country: Young farmer Johnny Saxby numbs his daily frustrations with binge drinking and casual sex, until the arrival of a Romanian migrant worker for lambing season ignites an intense relationship that sets Johnny on a new path (Seriously this movie is GREAT and doesn’t get enough love, watch it! It’s rough but ends happily)

The Half of It:  When smart but cash-strapped teen Ellie Chu agrees to write a love letter for a jock, she doesn't expect to become his friend - or fall for his crush (as in she falls for his crush who is another girl. This movie was so good, and really friendship focused!) 

Saving Face:  A Chinese-American lesbian and her traditionalist mother are reluctant to go public with secret loves that clash against cultural expectations (this is an oldie and a goodie, with a happy ending!)

Moonlight:  A young African-American man grapples with his identity and sexuality while experiencing the everyday struggles of childhood, adolescence, and burgeoning adulthood (featuring gay men of color!)

Carol:  An aspiring photographer develops an intimate relationship with an older woman in 1950s New York (everyone’s seen this I think, but I couldn’t not have it here)

Milk: The story of Harvey Milk and his struggles as an American gay activist who fought for gay rights and became California's first openly gay elected official (the speech at the end of this made me cry. Warning, of course, for death, if you don’t know about Harvey Milk)

Pride (Hulu Documentary):  A six-part documentary series chronicling the fight for LGBTQ civil rights in America (they go by decade from the 50s-2000s, and there is a lot of great trans inclusion in this)

Paris is Burning (Documentary): A 1990s documentary about the African American and Latinx ballroom scene. Available on Youtube!

A New York Christmas Wedding:  As her Christmas Eve wedding draws near, Jennifer is visited by an angel and shown what could have been if she hadn't denied her true feelings for her childhood best friend (this movie is SO CUTE. It’s really only nominally a Christmas movie and easily watched anytime. Features an interracial sapphic couple!) 

TV Shows 

Love, Victor: Victor is a new student at Creekwood High School on his own journey of self-discovery, facing challenges at home, adjusting to a new city, and struggling with his sexual orientation (this is a spin-off of Love, Simon, and it’s very sweet and well done! Featuring a young gay man of color)

Sex Education:  A teenage boy with a sex therapist mother teams up with a high school classmate to set up an underground sex therapy clinic at school (this has multiple queer characters, including a featured young Black gay man and also in season 2 there is a side ace character!) 

Black Sails: I mean, do I even need to put a summary here? If you follow me you know that Black Sails is full of queer pirates, just queers everywhere.

Gentleman Jack:  A dramatization of the life of LGBTQ+ trailblazer, voracious learner and cryptic diarist Anne Lister, who returns to Halifax, West Yorkshire in 1832, determined to transform the fate of her faded ancestral home Shibden Hall (Period drama lesbians!!! A title sequence  that will make you gay just by watching!) 

Tales of the City (2019):  A middle-aged Mary Ann returns to San Francisco and reunites with the eccentric friends she left behind. "Tales of the City" focuses primarily on the people who live in a boardinghouse turned apartment complex owned by Anna Madrigal at 28 Barbary Lane, all of whom quickly become part of what Maupin coined a "logical family". It's no longer a secret that Mrs. Madrigal is transgender. Instead, she is haunted by something from her past that has long been too painful to share (this is based on a book series and it’s got lots of great inter-generational queer relationships!) 

The Haunting of Bly Manor:  After an au pair’s tragic death, Henry hires a young American nanny to care for his orphaned niece and nephew who reside at Bly Manor with the chef Owen, groundskeeper Jamie and housekeeper, Mrs. Grose (sweet, tender, wonderful lesbians. A bittersweet ending but this show is so so wonderful)

Sense8: A group of people around the world are suddenly linked mentally, and must find a way to survive being hunted by those who see them as a threat to the world's order (queers just EVERYWHERE in this show, of all kinds)

Books

Loveless by Alice Oseman:  Georgia has never been in love, never kissed anyone, never even had a crush – but as a fanfic-obsessed romantic she’s sure she’ll find her person one day. This wise, warm and witty story of identity and self-acceptance sees Alice Oseman on towering form as Georgia and her friends discover that true love isn’t limited to romance (don’t be turned off by this title, it’s tongue-in-cheek. This is a book about an aroace college girl discovering herself and centers the importance and power of platonic relationships! I have it on my TBR and have heard great things)

Detransition, Baby by Torrey Peters: Reese almost had it all: a loving relationship with Amy, an apartment in New York City, a job she didn't hate. She had scraped together what previous generations of trans women could only dream of: a life of mundane, bourgeois comforts. The only thing missing was a child. But then her girlfriend, Amy, detransitioned and became Ames, and everything fell apart. Now Reese is caught in a self-destructive pattern: avoiding her loneliness by sleeping with married men.Ames isn't happy either. He thought detransitioning to live as a man would make life easier, but that decision cost him his relationship with Reese—and losing her meant losing his only family. Even though their romance is over, he longs to find a way back to her. When Ames's boss and lover, Katrina, reveals that she's pregnant with his baby—and that she's not sure whether she wants to keep it—Ames wonders if this is the chance he's been waiting for. Could the three of them form some kind of unconventional family—and raise the baby together?This provocative debut is about what happens at the emotional, messy, vulnerable corners of womanhood that platitudes and good intentions can't reach. Torrey Peters brilliantly and fearlessly navigates the most dangerous taboos around gender, sex, and relationships, gifting us a thrillingly original, witty, and deeply moving novel (again, don’t be thrown off by the title, it too, is tongue-in-cheek. This book was GREAT, and written by a trans women with a queer-and especially trans--audience in mind)

A Tip for the Hangman by Allison Epstein: A gay Christopher Marlowe, at Cambridge and trying to become England’s best new playwright, finds himself wrapped up in royal espionage schemes while also falling in love (this book is by a Twitter friend of mine, and it is a wonderful historical thriller with a gay man at the center).

Creatures of Will and Temper by Molly Tanzer: a very very queer remix of The Picture of Dorian Gray (which was already quite queer), featuring amazing female characters, a gay Basil, and a much happier ending than the original. 

Red, White, and Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston: The gay prince of England and the bisexual, biracial first son of the president fall in love (think an AU of 2016 where a woman becomes president). Featuring a fantastic discovery of bisexuality, ruminations on grief, and just a truly astonishing book. One of my favorites!

One Last Stop by Casey McQuiston:  For cynical twenty-three-year-old August, moving to New York City is supposed to prove her right: that things like magic and cinematic love stories don’t exist, and the only smart way to go through life is alone. She can’t imagine how waiting tables at a 24-hour pancake diner and moving in with too many weird roommates could possibly change that. And there’s certainly no chance of her subway commute being anything more than a daily trudge through boredom and electrical failures. But then, there’s this gorgeous girl on the train (This is Casey McQuiston’s brand new novel featuring time-travel, queer women, and I absolutely cannot WAIT to read it)

The Heiress by Molly Greely: Set in the Pride and Prejudice universe, this takes on Anne de Bourg (Lady Catherine’s daughter), and makes her queer! 

Tipping the Velvet by Sarah Waters:  Nan King, an oyster girl, is captivated by the music hall phenomenon Kitty Butler, a male impersonator extraordinaire treading the boards in Canterbury. Through a friend at the box office, Nan manages to visit all her shows and finally meet her heroine. Soon after, she becomes Kitty's dresser and the two head for the bright lights of Leicester Square where they begin a glittering career as music-hall stars in an all-singing and dancing double act. At the same time, behind closed doors, they admit their attraction to each other and their affair begins (Sarah Waters is the queen of historical lesbians. All of her books are good, and they’re all gay! The Paying Guests is another great one)

(On a side note re: queer books, there are MANY, these are just ones I’ve read more recently. Also there are a lot of indie/self-published writers doing great work writing queer books, so definitely support your local indie authors!) 

[love-archon]

A Poem For You

Fleeting romances in the court of the Raiden Shogun, whose reign stands eternally still...

Spring - 春

"In Naniwa Bay, now the flowers are blossoming. After lying dormant all winter, now the spring has come..."

-Wani of Baekje

• The old tales warn of kitsune: yokai that take on forms of handsome men and beautiful women to play tricks on the unsuspecting humans. When they are careless, however, their disguises slip, and one can see a tail or two poking out from under their robes.

• Or, in the case of your soldiers' archery instructor, Gorou, a pair of large, fluffy ears emerging from his hair.

• There are whispers of a general in the rebel army far in the mountains, who has the features of a fox spirit and the slyness to match. Thankfully, the army lacks valuable intel to proceed, and cannot move forward without the use of spies.

• You blink and, in a shimmer like dust on sun-baked earth, the ears are gone. The gentle afternoon breeze rustles the leaves, and he nocks his arrow and lets it fly.

• Perhaps you were simply imagining things?

• Gorou, who guides his trainees with a strong, reliable hand, steady as stone,

• Gorou, who splits arrows in half as they fly, vowing to protect you always,

• Gorou, who smiles fondly at you as you walk through the gardens of your estate, holding your parasol to veil you from the sun, would never betray you or the great shogun. Would he?

• One warm spring night, where the dew still drips from the sakura flowers, he sits with you on the rooftops. His round lazuli eyes meet yours, and he tells you, truthfully, that he'll be leaving soon. Won't you join him?

• Your heart stirs to agree, but you respond that you cannot abandon your duties to your family, or to the shogun. He looks disappointed, but gets up from his seat, telling you that he accepts your decision. “If you ever change your mind,” he begins, but stops when the look in your eyes makes it clear you can’t.

• But you didn't know that "soon" meant now.

• Papers stolen from your family's most secret rooms are rolled up in his hands. His plain clothes melt away to reveal the uniform of the rebel army. The foxlike ears you thought were a dream now rest on his head, clear as day. 

• Most striking of all, however, are the nine tails shimmering behind him- the mark of a fox spirit that’s accumulated centuries of magic.

• Your eyes can’t quite catch the way he leaves, and you’re not sure exactly when you became alone in the night with the flowers.

• Or if you’d imagined the saddened way he said goodbye.

Summer - 夏

"The spring has passed, and the summer comes again;

For the white robes are spread to dry on the Mount of Kaguyama."

-Empress Jitoh

• You do not know who keeps sending these letters, despite your best efforts. Only that they must be a refined noble of high status and excellent taste.

• Each cut of paper, beautifully bound, is dyed the right color to match the season. They are appropriately adorned with fresh sprigs of plants from the sender's garden, or tied with a luxurious ribbon of patterned silk. Lavish scents drift off the pages in a perfume that's sweet and light.

• Oh, and the words.

• The appearance of these gifts pale in comparison to the contents. The mysterious admirer has learned the alphabet borrowed from Liyue, and the complex brush strokes are applied with just the right deftness that each kanji character shines.

• Your beauty is eternal, they proclaim, like unmelting snow on summer mountains, and strikes the heart like a bolt of lightning. In your luminous eyes, the ideal of your god has been met- a thousand times over...

• As dizzyingly romantic as it is, one thing gives you pause, as you lift your own brush to write your reply.

• "Your god," it says. Not mine.

• Who would know the secret etiquette of the court so intimately, to the point that other suitors' letters paled in comparison... and not worship the immaculate Raiden Shogun, much less take an interest in you?

• Then you are sent in your clan head's place to deal with the troublesome Fatui that have slipped past your nation's defenses, and you find your answer then. Their leader wears the traditional attire of a traveling nobleman, and wields his weapon with aristocratic grace.

• His underlings fall rather quickly under your hand, but he himself is annoyingly persistent. He darts out of the way of your attacks, but it takes all your power to stop his from striking true.

• You do not get his name, only his face- fair and clean and luminous, with delicate features twisted in cruel amusement. 

• It’s a shame that you must marr it with your blade, but what can be done?

• Then, he glides past you, close enough to whisper in your ear, and completes the poem no one has seen but you. 

Autumn - 秋

"Even in the age of almighty gods unheard of;

The waters of Tatsuta are dyed in crimson red."

-Lord Ariwara-no-Narihira

• It is time for the great procession- an event of fanfare and decadence, where you and your family must travel from your ancestral home to the domain of the immortal shogun to display your wealth.

• Despite the excitement surrounding the occasion, you know quite well it is nothing more than a way to maintain control over the lords of Inazuma.

• But no expense must be spared if it means preserving your reputation. If it means that no other family dares question your wealth. Not in travel, not in housing arrangements, not in entertainment, not in the hired guards to protect you on your long and arduous journey.

• And so, after you pay the Kaedehara clan the exorbitant sum they demand, they give you twenty able-bodied samurai under their command... including Kazuha, their youngest son.

• The servant girls- and some of the boys- traveling with you blush when he passes, observing his lithe form and gentle eyes and striking, pale blond hair. One streak of red is visible there, calling to mind a sole maple leaf in autumn.

• Kazuha does not join in the other samurai's revelry. While they cheerfully indulge in the food and drink provided to them on the journey, and boast of their prowess when the time comes to fight bandits hiding on the path, he remains silent and alone, his eyes only on his collection of handwritten poems.

• (And, when you aren’t looking, they shyly flit to you before looking away.)

• In the end, however, Kazuha is the only one who actually bests a bandit in combat.

• Late at night, when the others are sleeping off the wine, large shadows flit past the trees. The bandit clans in the area thrive during this time, like hunters when beasts migrate in droves. They're confident that this traveling party will be easy prey.

• But one thief approaches too rashly, too quickly, and one crimson eye opens to meet him.

• Kazuha drifts from one opponent to another like a leaf falling from its branch, carried by strong winds. And yet, none of them can touch him. One after another, each man collapses with a sharp cry, only their silhouettes visible in the darkness. 

• In the morning, the traveling party awakens to see fifty-some criminals tied up and piled up in a heap, and bursts into laughter. As the other samurai are still hung over, it’s clear who was responsible for this.

• Yes, Kaedehara-kun is a wonderful samurai. Skillful, composed, brave. And an excellent companion to have by one’s side, if one is lucky enough to have met him.

• It was quite the shock to learn that he would later flee the islands, sailing onward to the Land of Contracts aboard the ship of a pirate lord.

• But if anyone had the strength of mind to defy the gods- wouldn’t it be him?

Winter - 冬

"In winter, the early mornings. It is beautiful indeed when snow has fallen during the night, but splendid too when the ground is white with frost..."

-Sei Shonagon

• Lady Ayaka is one of your closest friends, with your families being in a partnership for centuries. You have fond memories of playing together in the snow, with cranes flying overhead in the white sky.

• You know her secrets, and she knows yours. Nothing is kept between you- this is how you survive in a court of treachery and lies.

• So when she passes by in a sunlit hallway, you hear a whisper that shocks you to the core. Smooth silver hair floats past your sight, quiet as snow, and just as fleeting. But you must collect yourself quickly, for spies may lurk behind any silken screen.

• You will be betrothed to Kamisato Ayato, your dear friend's older brother, in ten day's time.

• As close as you are to Ayaka, Ayato has always been a shadow flitting in the corner of your sight, being too busy with his duties to see you. So his visage- to you- is as featureless as a field of snow.

• After all the romance novels you've read, it's difficult to accept marrying a man you've never spoken with, but... what can be done? You can only hope that Lord Ayato is kind and treats you well.

• But... what if he isn’t?

• Lady Ayaka would never speak ill of her brother. In fact, no noblewoman would even consider such a notion, even if it were true. Good appearances, on every level, are more important to nobles than gold. 

• But all the same, you’ve seen the ladies of the court who are trapped in loveless homes like birds in cages. How their smiles are painted on, how their laughs ring hollow and empty, how they glance longingly to the world outside, beyond the lavish court that hides them here.

• Your gaze drifts towards the harbor, where the water shimmers with light. You could run away, too. To the eastern mountains, where your former archery teacher hides with his fellow rebels- although to do that would invoke the shogun's wrath. Or, riskier still, follow Kazuha's path to the harbor, and chase him on to Liyue...

• “Young Lord Kamisato is waiting for you,” a servant says, breaking you from your thoughts, and bowing hastily before you can meet her eyes. The servant across from her does the same as the paper doors slide open, and they do not rise as you walk through.

• This room is airy and spacious, of course. Wind from opened windows seems to sigh as it passes over you and beyond, and you can smell flowers from the garden carried in from the breeze. How strange... even a garden that you played in countless times seems completely new and unfamiliar.

• Gracefully, soundlessly, Ayato emerges from behind his ornate screen. Power and elegance flows from his every movement. And at last, you dare to look at what you have never seen before.

• You look at his face, finally revealed before you, like translucent ice giving way to the land beneath the white...

• And gasp.

_______

Author's Notes

Wani of Baekje: Each opening quote is a poem by a famous Japanese author, but Wani was a scholar visiting from Ancient Korea!

Great procession: Known in Japan as sankin kotai. Powerful lords were forced to spend massive amounts of money to travel from their homes to the shogun's castle and back; in this way, the shogun was able to keep them on an efficiently tight leash.