#i need to cause chaos or ill go berserk

[thefandommind]

When your blog is dedicated to aa theme but fun stuff keeps showing up on your feed

[slcollective]

Next part of the series notes.

All nightmares are actually reborn spirits attached to Alpharius at her birth.

They were essentially tasked to help her remove negative entities. Upon her request.

This was their chance for redemption. As all of them were awful people. Who's souls were unusually strong.

They attempted to corrupt Alpharius but failed as she only really listened to one of them. Gold who betrayed all of them and destroyed their chance at redemption. At least that's what they think.

Their corruption takes on several characteristics.

Red/Nightmare Bonnie:

A berserker like rage. Self harm. Aggressive tendencies. Violence in all forms. Respect of only the strong and violent.

Violet/ Nightmare Chica :

Addiction of all types. Over indulgence of food and other pleasures. Being creative but questionable ways. Hedonistic. Masochism. Sadism.

Forest/Nightmare Foxy:

laziness. Depression. Stagnation. Hopelessness. Wallowing in filth as you give up and let the world rot around you. Illnesses.

Teal/Nightmare Freddy:

Insanity. Endless search for "truth". Manipulation. Self destructive planning. Endless back stabbing. Delusions of grandeur. Delusions in general. Paranoia.

Characteristics I have for them so far.

Red/ Nightmare Bonnie:

Is extreme violence but also Valor. He likes blood shed of any type. Yet isn't a sadistic he values war and everything associated. He despises peace times and was always trying to start violence somewhere. As peace creates weakness in his eyes. War brings out the best of humanity and that's what he truly believes.

A might makes right kind of mindset.

Is a bastard son of Genghis Khan.

He's likely going to convince the reader to become a mercenary. He's going to convince the reader to help him escape so they can travel the world too kill as many people as possible.

Evil and brutal as fuck but respects his fellow soldiers and those who are useful to him.

Violet/Nightmare Chica :

Gluttonous. Selfish. Sadistic. Masochist. Yet creative and artistic. Loves to create questionable yet beautiful art in all its formats. Is a pure hedonist. Love pleasure in all its forms. Mostly out to have a good time. Love to experience new things of all types.

Enjoys eating good food and drinking fine wine.

Actually enjoys causing pain and receiving it.

Was a child of a former noble during the French revolution. Died how she lived.

Likely will convince the reader that they're both bored with their lives and drags them into a Rockstar lifestyle. One that slowly overcomes the reader.

She is naturally selfish but the reader will be the soul exception as she finds them actually fun. Will likely convince reader to torture people for both if their pleasure.

Forest/ Nightmare Foxy:

Is laid back and very nice. A loner naturally. Is fascinated by illness and diseases. He enjoys plagues and wants to watch the spread. Gives up easy and lays about. Sees no point in anything and barely tries. Just let's things fall apart around him. It's going to happen anyway. Why fix it. Besides this he's actually very kind to the reader and loving.

Was a victim of Poveglia Island during the Black Death.

Likely convince the reader that life is completely pointless and they should just let everything rot. Convinces them to become a typhoid Mary type figure.

Teal/Nightmare Freddy :

Manipulative and cruel. He intentionally brings people up just to watch them fall. All to his amusement. He enjoys causing madness and loves to break people. Likes to cause chaos around him. Everyone is a pawn to him.

Is a son of a concubine from the Han dynasty.

He will likely convince the reader that the world is broken and needs fixing. Thus. The reader and he break out of Fazbear Frights to cause all kinds of problems.

He will consider the reader as his favorite chess piece. Thus will protect them.

All of this will lead to each of them getting chased down by Alpharius who will seek to stop them.

All this will lead to William to escape his bonds. With the help of his cult. Which the reader of that story will be in charge of.

Yes I did take inspiration from Warhammer! If that isn't a 100% obvious.

That's what I've come up with so far

[misplacedmalice]

Once again, more spoilers for P5R, because I can't sleep and this is what I do.

I'm also going to throw in trigger warnings for trauma, suicide, and several types of abuse. I don't want to cause anyone any pain just because they can't sleep either and stumbled onto my post.

I should preface this by saying I was starting in child development and psychology before I left college due to my own health, so I've done a lot of research into the topics I'm going to be addressing.

Okay. So I want to talk about the mental health implications of Goro Akechi and his use of Loki's special ability on himself to make himself go berserk. The reason I want to talk about this, is because its something that people with the right (horrible) combination of mental health issues and trauma can more or less do, and I feel it will help explain some of the endgame content a bit more comprehensively.

To start off, I want to address that Goro would not have been in a healthy place when his persona was unleashed in the first place. That's canonical. His mother committed suicide, was living life as a prostitute before that, and he was afterwards passed from foster home to foster home before living on his own. That in itself is a whole lot of damage just as a base, but you have to think a bit deeper into it, as well.

Its a known fact, at least in the western world, that growing up with parents that act as sex workers often leads to the child being physically and sexually abused. I think its very likely that Goro went through this with at least one of his mother's customers before she passed. I will double down on the point that its very common, again at least in the western world, for foster children to land in the homes of abusers as well. In that case, its not limited to the care takers, but could even extend to the other minors living in the homes that were older than him. In my studies, I've read many cases of younger male children being taken advantage of by older female children, only to have it brushed aside. A common example of something like that happening is actually with teachers, if you need a basis for where my thoughts were going. Based on this alone, Goro would have been suffering from severe abuse for about ten years before his persona manifested. Keep this point in mind.

My next point actually deals with Goro's persona and when it manifested. There's no real clarification there of what transpired during that event. So, I want to take into consideration the fact that this probably happened without Goro's knowledge, like how Akiren and Ryuji slipped into Kamoshida's palace the first time unawares. Here's the thing; Akiren had Ryuji with him, so even if Ryuji couldn't fight, there was a distinct difference already. It is heavily, heavily implied that Goro was ALONE when this happened. Imagine being fifteen and stumbling onto a literal metaphysical world filled with supernatural entities trying to kill you. That's what would have been happening, realistically. How do you think Goro would have survived that? Manifesting his persona.

But here's the thing: how badly beaten and near death was Goro when his persona manifested? How desperate to survive was he? He would have been weak, and he would have needed a fuck ton of strength boost to get through a situation like that. How would he have gotten it, do you think? That's right; the same way he got it on the cruiser.

Loki's Call to Chaos.

I firmly believe that Loki is actually Goro's "true" persona, like how Arséne is Akrien's at the beginning. I think Robin Hood actually came much later, out of a sad, hurt child's wish that he could have been like Robin. But I don't think he created RH, like how Akiren can create personas; I think he manifested RH much like Akiren did Satanael. But I believe it was at a later date, and was a reflection of his mind, what's still good in his mind, made manifest.

The next thing I want to talk about is Shido and his manipulative behavior towards Goro. Everyone knows all this, though, so ill keep it brief. The effect that this would have had for Goro would have made his previously developed mental health issues so much worse, which lead him to have a crucial thought pattern that's dangerously common with people with his mental illness. At one point, many trauma victims come to think of both other people, and themselves, as acceptable losses.

This actually happens when there's a disconnect in your mind within your ethical reasoning. And here's where I get to the point I wanted to make; Loki's special ability is basically the manifestation of sending someone into a dissociative mania. Basically a manic state in which your mind disconnects from its higher thought patterns, and dissociates completely with how your memories are stored.

The reason I'm talking about this is because trauma, depression, and dissociative episodes can and do cause severe memory issues. I want to bring to a point Joker and Crow's showtime for this, actually. You see at the end of it, Goro walking towards the camera looking exhausted and holding his head. Many times, when people have manic episodes, it leaves them physically drained, and can cause migraines. Most commonly these things are associated with anxiety attacks, though truthfully it has most to do with your adrenal responses.

So now we come to the effects that all these have on the endgame content. I'm not arguing the "is Goro real" aspect of the endgame content, because he is. I've gone through everything I did in this post to try to help make it clear for others what would have realistically happened after the scene on the ship.

A big real world consequence of all the mental health issues I've gone through here are going to be as such: first, Goro is not going to have any committed, accessible long term memories due to the mental strain that a manic episode like his berserk state can cause. Next, he's going to take a hell of a long time to heal after being literally blasted from the metaverse, which is what it seems happened. I believe this is actually paralleled by Ryuji for that reason, actually. Last: he's not going to be himself for a while afterwards. When you suffer such a huge episode, like his berserk episode is heavily implied to be, you're just not yourself after. It's like your whole mind has to reboot. I believe this is why he turns himself in to Sae, because its the only thing that makes sense for him to do.

The second to last thing I want to address is the way Goro seems to 180 after all those events, and how different his personality is. Feral!Goro is his real personality. This archetype--cynical, methodical, sarcastic, and cruel--is actually fairly common in people with his kind of history. He's actually showing his true self, probably for the first time ever. That's a huge step in the right direction for him, and something he's only able to do because of Akiren's support.

The very last thing I'm going to address is actually the events of Maruki's palace, when he goes to shoot and kill Dr. Maruki. This comes back simply to the idea of acceptable loss. This is not something that Goro takes lightly. This is his weighing the outcomes, looking through every door at the same time, like trauma victims tend to. He's choosing the path that guarantees the desired outcome. Its a downright terrifying trait that Goro has, but that's what was happening. Just like (unfortunately) Wakaba, Okumura, and countless others, Goro counted Maruki as an acceptable loss.

And I want to point out that he stops when the Phantom theives point out that he's wrong. I'm pointing it out because that tiny gesture shows just HOW MUCH Akiren helped him start to heal, starting with the events on the ship.

If anyone actually finished reading this rambling post, man, good on you. You have my thanks.

[yanderemommabean]

(1/2) Don't know when you'll reply to the other ask I sent kinda related to this, but I'm going to gush on about this idea anyway because. Yandere Nyarlathotep; honestly, I think he could be the most terrifying yandere ever. An eldritch god of pure evil (although how evil he is is kinda debatable), madness and chaos who is pretty much all-powerful falling in love with a smol helpless human? That human is screwed unless they're into loving and being loved by an eldritch horror from the beyond.

2/2) You can try to run and hide as much as you like, and you might even get a bit far if the god is feeling particularly playful, but in the end he'll always find you and drag you back into his loving embrace. Not to mention you literally cannot trust ANYONE. Nyarlathotep is a renowned shapeshifter and an excellent actor. He could be literally anyone you know and you'd never find out until it's already far, far too late. You're his precious little human mate and he's never letting you go))))

“Y-you aren’t my mom” your shaky voice spouts out, your pointing finger trembling as fear envelopes you and weighs down on your chest. No. No you couldn’t trust anyone! “Youre him! Youre...you’re not my mom!”.

Your mother, or rather the thing dressed as her form, gently grabs your hand and gives you a concerned expression, eyebrows furrowed in worry. “Honey you’re absolutely shaking! What on earth happened? Come on, sit down, sit down” She insisted.

You yank your hand away, backing away with fear and trepidation. Your mind is racing, unable to focus on anything other than suspicion and panic. “NO! NO! Stay away from me! Stay back!” You scream, dashing out of the door and down into the street, eyes darting around to every person on the street.

Their voices bounced in your head, murmuring about how sick and ill you looked and if they should call for help.

No. No if you get any sort of help nyarlathotep would easily take their form! What if everyone was him? Are you even you? You can’t tell anymore, you’re so tired and sleep deprived and unable to even breathe correctly. You haven’t eaten in days because you can’t trust the food not to be tampered with.

Your mind is breaking. You can’t take it anymore!

Slowly, your vision goes blurry as you collapse in the street, your body being so weak and exhausted it forced you to give in. The rush of people circling you was the last image you saw before your eyes closed and you could finally get some sort of rest. Comforting in a sense, obviously something you needed, but who’s to say how long it lasts?

————-

The ringing sound of beeps wakes you up from your unconscious state. Your eyes pry open, trying to adjust to the bright room of what you can only assume is the hospital. You raise your head a bit to look over to the machine making all the noise, and try to find a way to at least turn the noise down a bit.

You feel a sharp pain in your arm when you reach up, seeing a fresh IV sight was just put in. IV? What were they giving you? Wait-what even happened? How long have you been here?

You squint your eyes to see the name of the fluid currently pumping into your veins, and sigh in relief as it was only saline and some vitamins. You flop back down and close your eyes again, swallowing as you try and keep your heart rate normal as to not make the machine go berserk again.

“Maybe he...maybe he doesn’t know I’m here” You mutter to yourself, running your hands down your face as you exhale. “Fuck...I bet I gave mom a heart attack...and the neighbors probably think I’m psycho”.

A soft laugh leaves your lips as you open yours eyes again, looking up at the ceiling. “Well. They aren’t wrong”.

A knock on the door causes your heart to spike in speed again, your fight or flight response kicking in on instint. “Y/N? I’ll be your nurse for the day. How are you feeling? Do you know why you’re here?”.

You nod your head, swallowing nervously as the nurse steps in and begins to write on the dry erase board in front of you. “Oh? Could you tell me then? Just so I don’t have to walk all the way down the hall and grab your chart again”.

Odd. Usually nurses already have that either memorized or on hand. “I...collapsed from exhaustion I think. And was brought here. From what I remember”. Your voice wavered a bit, watching the nurse places the marker down with a low chuckle, and turns to face you with a feral look in their eyes.

“No. You’re here because I want you to be. Because I love to play cat and mouse with you. I told you. I’m everywhere all at once”. Your heart leaps into your throat, and all you can manage is a weak cry for help before a hand covers your mouth.

“Ah ah ah! Wouldn’t want anyone to be hurt because of your misbehavior do you? Now be a good patient and let me play a little longer. The good stuff is coming later, just you wait!”.

[lokikingofasgardslover713]

Bitter Bonds: 2} Covenant

Masterlist

Bitter Bonds Masterlist

Loki Laufeyson X Plus Size Reader

Warnings: Torture, Panic

Summary: We learn more of the readers past with Helblindi and the reader. And talks of trade.

A/N: This came to me after reading @wickednerdery writings and for referring me to read @endlessstairway‘s story, Butterfly! I’m not doing a tie in to their writings but wanted to give them credit for the idea that shit all over my laptop!

Words: +2,200

With stoic features, Y/N looked over the choking Loki as she was helped back to her seat. The berserker guard returning to their own as Helblendi snarled at the struggling god that was beyond terrified. She knew she had to draw attention away from Loki because the longer the giant watched him the worse the punishment.

“What do you want for him? I could use him,” Y/N spoke up. A thing the giant admired about her, straight to the point and never sugar coating it. Helblendi smiled at her as he glance down to the broken creature that was now moving to clean the mess from the dropped bread and the cup of drink he had been given. The cloth having been dropped to Loki by a servant with a sneer.

“Straight to the point as always sister. I see why Býleistr forsake this realm for you. What do you see as a fair price my queen,” he asked quietly eyeing her close as everyone settled.

The giant reaching down to hint to the empty cup Loki had and refilling it. Y/N slipping the god a piece of meat for his troubles and sure to not allow him to touch her. Had she realized that was to be Helblendi’s reaction she would have done better at concealing the action. Noting the servant stepping up next to the giant king on the opposite side to speak with him.

“Well, I am sure you have one in mind. Or the generous offering Thor gave you earlier would have been enough to procure him, as well as plenty left to put in your stores,” Y/N smirked at the giant who turned to look at her.

Watching him glance to Loki and knew he seen the generous portion of meat she had given the slave but knew not to say a word. The giant opted instead to serve her more from the tray at the middle of the table. Beef, a commodity he traded with Y/N for, it kept excellent in the freezing cold and it was a change from the constant meal of fish.

“I wasn’t about to return him to his brother. That would break the agreement with Asgard, the kingdom slaughtered, and the cask taken once again. Laufey may have been willing to let Odin destroy Jotunheim, blinded by his need for revenge to have it almost destroyed once more by siding with Loki, but I am not about to allow it to happen. Our people have suffered enough. I would trade him to you for there is nothing in the treaty that states I have to keep him in my possession. Just that he isn’t allowed to return to Asgard or be placed with his brother,” Helblendi explained.

The giant hinting to the servant next to him to fetch the contract signed with Odin. Helblendi noting Y/N glance down at Loki who was taking his time with his small meal.

“I may be a frost giant sister but I am not so cold that I would allow our people to suffer a third time when it can be easily prevented. Think on a price and we will discuss over the trade papers when it comes time in the morning. That way you have the night to think on it. Is that an agreement that will suffice,” he spoke handing the scroll over the servant had retrieved. Y/N taking it gently to lay it next to her plate to finish her meal before passing another portion of her meat to Loki, sure to let it drop in his outstretched hand.

“It will,” she responded, careful not to linger on the huddled creature between them. She understood Helblendi knew better than to go against her. Though the giant would possibly drive an even harder bargain if he felt it would make her pay up for the discarded son of his father.

“Good. I trust you will read over the contract to ensure the trade want cause Asgard to rain down Hel on us sister, that is the last this realm needs,” the giant spoke as they continued about the meal and spoke of the trade deals they where to go over in the morning. Then focusing on how her people were doing on Midgard.

Loki feeling his own heart skip a beat at returning to the warmness of the realm he had tried to rule. All the while Y/N was just glad Loki wasn’t female Jotun. The queen had a feeling she would have been bringing more back to the realm with her than the broken creature between them.

“You know I will, as well as Ulrich will check along behind me. Sometimes those runes run together and the All-father has a tricky way of wording things to snare the signer,” Y/N spoke up filling a slight shift in the mood of Loki. She swore the god chuckled, but it was almost undetectable if it wasn’t for her gifts.

“That he is sister, that he is,” Helblendi spoke as they finished up the meal. She was ready to get to her quarters to speak with Ulrich and to go over the treaty. Though truthfully she wasn’t sure if she could take looking at Loki much longer, especially as it seemed the longer she looked the more scars she noted. They were scars that she needed no one to tell her how he received them for she knew.

“Ulrich, pen,” Y/N spoke out to the bear of a man that was always at her side. The man stepping from where he stood on the opposite end of the table she sat at to hand her the requested pen. The pen nice and toasty since it had been purposefully kept against his skin to keep it from freezing. The two of them thankful the room they were in was warm enough to remove furs and not freeze the ink thanks to the Midgardian fireplace.

“Here. You come up with a price?” It was late in the night, possibly early morning hours as she put the pen to parchment. A quick thought to her words as she scrawled old runes over the paper in concentration.

“I have. As well as no loop holes,” she began, focusing as she began the actual bargain.

“Why do you…,” Ulrich began and immediately bit his jaw. The berserker knew why his queen was bartering for Loki and kept it to himself. Sure to watch the runes she placed on the paper for loop holes, the room quiet but for the scratching of the pen.

“What I seen, all that chaos he left in his wake, it was not all Loki. There was a darkness there, as well as several vile things caused by Odin himself,” Y/N spoke quietly, it was no secret the queen harbored ill doings with Odin, but this situation was wrong in all ways.

“You plan to trade him more food. I would add in grains, that was a thing I picked up on him asking of when we spoke of the last pickup. Helblendi liked the rice and quinoa you served him on Midgard, as well as fabric along with gold,” Ulrich spoke to Y/N who stopped her scratching to look up at him with an amused glare.

“Who’s writing this? Me or you,” she smirked at the guard. Ulrich was her second in command, having been her husbands as well and almost slaughtered when Blyster was massacred before her.

“By all means princess. I'm sorry I trampled all over your dress,” he bantered back, knowing she would only laugh at him and continue.

“I have planned to trade gold, fabric, meat, seasonings… Sorry, Helblendi calls it spices. As well as herbs, grains, and several other luxury items,” Y/N spoke up scratching at the paper.

“He wants you to warm his bed,” Ulrich spoke up to Y/N who nodded that she knew what he spoke of.

“I have already done that decades ago. He knows the agreement and I held up my end of the bargain as did he. It is settled and as he promised it was to never be spoken of between us,” Y/N spoke still scrawling on the page and not taking her eyes from her task.

“He still fawns over you,” Ulrich spoke, watching her adding in terms of the contract to note she was covering loop hole after loop hole. The continuous loop stating Loki was not to be taken back in any way or under any circumstances by Helblendi or Odin.

“Wouldn’t you fawn over the woman who bore your brood,” Y/N sighed out, adding the last bit to the contract as she made a place for her signature and Helblendi’s.

“Aye. I would, and I do. My mate hardly lifts a finger, you know that. What if he wants more in return,” Ulrich admitted as he read over the contract. The berserker noting that Y/N was sure to leave no room for negotiation as she scooted it to allow him to look it over.

“Then he will have to find another because I can no longer carry. Besides, he was pleased. The ones I bore were female but for the two princes, were they not? That was what he longed for more than anything was girls and now they rule tribes of their own, all of them. They are strong leaders, he couldn’t ask for much more than that,” Y/N admitted as he nodded in agreement, a hand on her shoulder as he gave it a gentle squeeze before starting to the warm fire.

Not a cold flame, but a real flame to warm his hands as she stood to stretch while rolling parchment to place it in a cylinder.  Then moving to do the same to the one from Asgard and placing the pin in her bra. Irritated, she pulled at the traditional leathers she wore, preferring comfortable Midgardian garb in place of the tight clothes that looked bulkier than normal thanks to the fur under them.

Finally stepping over to join the berserker by the fire to get warmed before lying down for the night. No doubt he would be sharing the bed because of the cold.

“Tell me why Y/N,” her guard asked quietly as he looked over to his queen. He knew she had her reasons for bartering for Loki, having seen the forlorn look in her eye the first time Helblendi contacted them to tell them of the latest peace with Asgard and show off his prize from the All-father.

The prize, Loki, the giant had already been breaking in. The god lashed to an ice column, his back bare and covered in vicious gashes that gushed blood. The shackles that bound him preventing the use of seidr to heal himself. That meant Loki had to rely on his own healing factor that was barely able to keep up to prevent him from blacking out.

That was the day she asked to be left alone. The queen taking to hiding in her cabin but more importantly the bathroom. Ulrich never mentioned it, but he knew it made her sick. It had kept her that way for weeks and after every projection ended with Helblendi she had to be alone for the rest of the day.

“I don’t need a reason,” was all she stated, looking at him to put an end to the conversation. It was evident now wasn’t the time to argue with her, nodding and heading to the bed.

Y/N watched Ulrich make his way to the bed to settle. He was a good man, one not to question her unless he was worried for her safety. The bulk of a man bigger than a bear, though he was technically a bear, so to say having all traits and strength of one, just as she mirrored a wolf in many aspects. A rare and almost extinct breed themselves, ulfhednar and berserkers were not shape shifters, they were what they appeared to be, man and beast crossed to blend in with the mortals.

After it appeared he had settled, Y/N made strides to the bed to hurry in hopes of keeping the warmth she had soaked up by the fire long enough to cuddle in next to the bear of a man. The man pulling her  close, making sure to keep her under the furs that had been strewn across the bed. Furs that where first rate and put there possibly by Helblendi’s own hand,

“What if Thor finds out? The Avengers,” he murmured sleepily as the queen settled against his side, pulling close.

“I will take care of it. The disturbances of the atmosphere is kept to a minimum every transport. I know Thor will be back to bargain and he isn’t as stupid as he looks. He will realize I have taken Loki and demand to know where we are. The god of thunder is smart, he will find us, but until then we play this by ear,” Y/N sighed, pulling tight to the heater of a man who pulled his own fur coat tighter around them both.

“Aye my queen,” was all the guard spoke as they tried to get some rest before the day dawned and it was time to work over the trades.

Tags open! And re-blogs are ALWAYS welcomed!

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[koorinohebi]

@gemsofchaldea said:

“A gut feeling. I see, you are very interesting. Are you sure your gut feelings are not confused due to the madness enchantment on the entire island?” A pause “It doesn’t matter I suppose. Thank you for that anyway.”

It’s true, there was no evil or malice in her body. The goddess she was a part of had done terrible acts, driven animals mad, turned heroes into monsters, yet they were not evil. They were doing their task, their duty. they had no ill will towards those she wronged, she simply had to it. Umi-chan herself was not much different. She was tasked with speaking to Chaldean masters and figuring out where BB was, so she was doing just that.

“Interesting.. I suppose that is a way to look at it. It is very interesting to work so closely with you. It will make things easier. I will admit that it is difficult travelling across the island with the amount of Berserkers, so even if you can’t find any your unique skill may help us detect them and avoid them.”

A pause, before the small Berserker shook her head.

“I think this is different. I am not sure how it will effect you, but I do know that it will at least make it harder to think, and make hard decisions. You will likely act irrationally and will start to get angry very easily. Of course this may not be what happens to you.”

It’d be a bit weird if the Master decided to try anything with candy on the Servant, so she just ate it right away! She seemed to enjoy it, if the very quick consumption was any sign to go by. Hm, candy was pretty good.. She might have to ask for more later.

“You don’t have to thank me. But.. I will thank you for giving me candy. Helping others is something I do not mind doing, reward or not. But if you have more candy, I can always attempt to answer more questions.”

"Even if I have more candy," Which she does, "You don't have to barter information for them." Because Kiomi would share them with the berserker anyway, seeing that the servant was already good enough to accompany her on this strange adventure. "We're partners right now. My rations are your rations."

Working on gut feeling most of the time may have led her to a couple of unsavory experiences, but trouble was always something that she factored in with every mission. It was a constant variable otherwise, there would be no need for preparations, everything would be like a leisurely stroll-- but where's the fun in that? So a little bit of trouble and chaos was fine; it just came down to how things were managed in the long rung anyway. Still, that didn't mean that she wasn't going to take into consideration everything that's currently been said. Too keep herself in check while she traversed the Island along with Umi, surely she can find a way around it that wouldn't cause the other any alarm.

"Well then, Umi-chan. I just have one favor to ask of you." She had to make sure that she'd have a countermeasure just in case she doesn't find her servants in time, or if she herself gets affected too badly of whatever it is that was corrupting the minds of everyone on this island. "If I unfortunately fall to the effects of the other you's Noble Phantasm, if you have a way to control me if I go berserk, do it." She'll go down fighting at the very least, just to make sure that she can give the other openings in case the need to flee to safety arose. "Since we're working together, I'll be sure to fight for you if and when the time comes." Probably a crazy sentiment from someone who was supposed to be an enemy, but as she mentioned prior, Kiomi didn't feel anything ominous about the berserker that she now travelled with. At least, that was how she believed it to be.

[misc-oneshots]

The times that made us

For: N/A Words: 2754 Thorin Oakenshield x half-darrow reader

There were three main moments that made Thorin realise he was hopelessly in love with you.

When the King-in-exile had first been introduced to you in the Shire by Bofur, your best friend and self-appointed guardian, he’d been unimpressed. A half-dwarf fighter, and a woman no less, wasn’t exactly the warrior-class company that he’d dreamt of, but Bifur had sign-sworn on your loyalty and fighting spirit, and Thorin respected the Berserker’s opinion. So, with a great deal of reluctance, he extended you a contract and you were drawn into the company with your adoptive family.

For the first five days you could count on your hands how many times Thorin spoke to you, but you couldn’t say you minded, you spent your evenings helping Bombur cook, entertaining the company with Bofur and helping to keep Bifur calm. You were relieved that you company seemed to take to you as a relative outsider, but you guessed being practically adopted by the hat donning comedian and your half-dwarf heritage helped eased any awkwardness. Even Bilbo was very kind and attentive to you but your supposed that you were one of the only people to speak to him and he just saw a young woman in the company of gruff men, but you were sure that his soft approach would disappear as soon as he saw you wield your axe.

Dwalin pretended to be indifferent to you but you knew that the extra blankets that came to you in the night were often his – he seemed to pick up on the fact that being only a half-dwarf meant that you couldn’t handle the cold as easily as the rest of the company. Thorin, well you were part of his company, so he respected you, it was a simple as that. Of course, it wasn’t that simple but only Balin and Dwalin had seen his lingering glances at you as spoke with Ori about knitting patterns or his lip twitch when he’d catch you helping his nephews with their chores for the evening when they’d spent too much time teasing other Company members.

When your journey first started Thorin told himself that his only interest in watching you was to keep an eye on what his nephews were doing and since the Prince’s had attached themselves to your sides that meant watching you, Kili and Fili had decided that you were their new mascot.

The first time that Thorin knew that you were his One was when his nephews upset Bombur. Your adoptive uncle had always been what Bofur called ‘a soft sort’, he wore his heart on his sleeve and wasn’t afraid to show his emotions much like Dwalin, except Bombur didn’t have the terrifying exterior to scare away the meddling Princes.   You were helping Bilbo set up his saddle when you heard Bombur sniffle and Kili giggle, you turned to see Bombur setting up his own saddle with Fili and Kili on either side of him. “Now, now Bombur, we didn’t mean anything by it.” Fili said sincerely and gave the older dwarf a sold pat on the shoulder and Bombur nodded in acceptance of his apology. Kili swung himself up onto his pony, he was still laughing, “Bombur, you shouldn’t be so sensitive!”

You squeezed your hands into fists by your sides and marched away from Bilbo towards Kili. The dark-haired dwarf gave you his usual flirtatious smirk, “Mornin’ Lady Y/N.” You offered him a smile as you came to stop in front of him before reaching up, taking hold of his saddle in both hands and yanking down as hard as you could to send Kili flying off of the pony and to the forest floor. The whole company turned to stare at his gaping face. “What was that for?” He yelped. Your hands found your hips, “Kili, you shouldn’t be so sensitive!” You parroted his words back to him and his face turned a satisfying shade of red as the company burst into laughter.

You turned to face Bombur but found Thorin stood between you, his face schooled but you could hear the amusement in his voice, “Could you not go a morning without causing chaos?” “No.” You answered honestly, and your heart swooned when you were rewarded with Thorin smirking. Kili finally jumped up and grumbled, “I was only joking.” “I would hope that the line of Durin does not end in a child who mocks his people. Especially Darrow who have left behind family to help them fight a dragon.” You told him, you voice was stern, but you had already linked your arm back through Kili’s to show that there wasn’t going to be a grudge held over the little argument.

“We’re sorry Bombur.” Fili apologised and Kili made a noise of agreement. You gave Thorin a playful wink, that had to be the most painless apology that anyone had gotten from the Sons of Dis.

—

The second time that Thorin had realised that you were his One, part of his soul, was when he had his hand wrapped around your neck. Since you’d schooled his nephew’s all those months ago Thorin couldn’t keep his eyes from you and slowly, as the dangers grew, and it looked less likely that you’d both survive the Quest, your relationship had grown into stolen kisses and intimate moments hidden in your surge for survival. Not that your blossoming relationship was a secret, in fact far from it. Once you’d reached Erebor and the sickness took hold of Thorin he would not let you out of his sight, if he found you talking to any of the company without him then he’d accuse them of trying to steal his Queen from him. The only was to calm him was to put your hands to his chest and promise that you saw no other Dwarf when your King was in the room and that would calm him enough for the other dwarf to get away from the mad King.

Bofur hated it and he wasn’t quiet about it but you assured him that Thorin wasn’t hurting you and it was true. Mad or not, Thorin wanted your attention and he wanted you but he did not demand your body when you said no, instead he would hold you to his broad chest and mumble your hair how you were going to be his Queen and how he would find the perfect jewel for you from his hoard.

But when the war was waging outside, and he refused to go fight, you could no longer stand by him. You loved him, but you told him you were going out there to fight. Thorin turned to you and snatched you by the throat. Shock gripped you and the Company, that a Dwarf – a King – could raise a hand to his One.

Well, you raised a hand right back and punched him square in the nose.

Thorin snarled and when he let you go to cradle his nose, you rushed forwards and shoved him backwards with all your strength and he fell back to the ground in a clatter of armour. In your peripheral vision you saw your adoptive family halt in their attempted to get to you. You pointed down at the King, your One, on the floor looking up at you, his eyes finally looked clear of the madness that had plagued him. “Thorin Oakenshield! You are not your Grandfather, stop this madness. I have tried to stand beside you, but I don’t even recognise you now.” You snapped and Bofur was by your side, his finger tips pressing into your neck to check you for injuries. Thorin rose slowly, his hand left his bleeding nose and he caught your hand in one of his while the other moved to you neck to brush your hair away from where he’d tried to throttle you just moments ago. Bofur stepped behind you but didn’t move away from you. “Please Amrâlimê, forgive me. I know I do not deserve it, I have treated you so ill.” His voice was so deep and sorrow laden that to stop your heart breaking you leaned up to stop his torment by pushing your lips to his. You pulled away and rested your forehead on his and you laced your fingers with his, “I forgive you by King but if you raise a hand to me again then Fili will be preparing for his coronation. Understood?”

He smiled softly at you, “Understood.” How had he been gifted such an understanding One? “Fili?” You asked. “Understood Auntie.” His expression softened for the first time since Bilbo had climbed over the wall. Behind you Bofur rubbed your back reassuringly, it was time to go to war.

—-

The last time that Thorin realised how much he loved you was as the snow settled upon you both. “Amrâlimê, you have to open your eyes.” His voice croaked, and you willed yourself to open them, to stare into his eyes for what you knew would be the last time. “Thorin, I’m sorry.” You whispered to him. You were lay on your back, you didn’t need to feel your limbs to know that this was it. You could see your blood staining the snow below you. Thorin was leant on his side beside you, you wished you had the strength to tell him to lay down to stop the wound in his chest bleeding so much – how much pain he must be in! But you were selfish and if you were leaving your One for the Halls of your people then you’d leave looking into his eyes.

“Never apologise to me, Y/N you just need to hold on, we’ll get you through this.” His voice was hoarse, you hoped that help came for him. You reached up to run your hand along his short beard, “Lying suits you ill, my love. Help will come and when it does I wish for you to be King. They all need you.” He was crying, you guessed that you were too, “No.” it was all that he could whisper. He leaned down over you to kiss you softly, ignoring the snarl of pain in his chest. He knew that he would not survive this, he had made his choice during the battle to die for the sake of his people but if he could keep you awake perhaps there was something that could be done for you.

“I love you. I’ll look after the boys.” You whispered and urged him to come down to you again to kiss you. Thorin kissed you hard, in that kiss outpouring all the feelings of the years together that had been stolen, his tears running down your cheeks. His vision was going hazy as he pulled away from you, but your eyes were unseeing, and your breath taken from this world. He sobbed and gently closed your eyes with his fingers before kissing them both. His hand came up into your hair to hold you to him so that he could sob into your courting braid.

—

“Auntie.”

The whispered word pulled you into consciousness and your vision focused on Kili crouched above you. He gave you a soft smile, took your arm and pulled you up to stand but he pulled too hard and you fell forwards into another chest. “Easy Kee, it will take her a moment.” You recognised the voice and looked up at Fili smiling down and you and holding you gently. His eyes where bright and his body and clothes untouched by the horrors of war. You glance to the side to Kili who spared you a little wave. You looked down between you and Fili at your own stomach but found no blood, you even ran your hand down your stomach and felt yourself in one piece. “I – I don’t?” You mumbled and felt Fili’s rumbling laugh. “It’s disconcerting, isn’t it?” He told you and gently stepped away so that you could see behind him. Awe washed over you, the Halls of your people built by Aulë himself was spread out before you. It was more grand and splendid than you could ever have imagined and as the war raged on in the other realm more dwarves where arriving at the grand gates some distance from you.

“We thought you’d appreciate from Privacy.” A voice answered your unasked question about why you’d not arrived at the gates. Two Dwarves came over to you and stood beside Kili, the one who had spoken looked had long dark hair and Durin’s eyes, and you could have sworn that the other Dwarf was Fili just years older. “Auntie this is my Uncle Frerin and my Father.” Fili introduced. “At your service.” Both dwarves bowed and popped back up grinning and for a moment you could have sworn that you they were Kili and Fili. It made your heart ache to think that Dis, the women that you adored but had never met, had lost all four of these men and could still lose more. “How am I here? I’m only a half-darrow.” You mumbled. “You’re our Aunt!” Kili said indignantly. “And you would have been Queen Under the Mountain, Thorin was very lucky to have you, half-darrow or no.” The boy’s father told you.

“I must say, I’m surprised it took you so long to hit my brother for his foolish behaviour.” Frerin offered with a grin, “I took a great deal of delight in watching that!” “Watching?” You asked, still overwhelmed by it all, which Fili must have sensed because he kept his hand on your back so that he could turn you to look out at a river behind you. When you squinted your eyes, you could see your loved ones and the battle below. Kili knelt next to the water and the image changed to Tauriel weeping over his body. “I told you that she loved me.” Kili whispered, his father came up behind him and squeezed Kili’s shoulder. “How could she no?” The voice behind you made you squeeze your eyes shut. You all turned to Thorin who was stood behind you, his royal robes and crown looked pristine, his eyes no longer red from grieving his lost love and his lips no longer blue from a grave in the snow. “Thorin.” You whispered, and Fili let you go but you didn’t move and neither did Thorin who stared into your eyes, he looked more relaxed in death than in the madness he’d suffered in life.

You were shoved forwards from behind and Thorin rushed to catch you and pull you into his arms. His lips found yours as soon as you were in his arms and behind you Frerin was mumbling that if had hadn’t of done something then neither of you would ever have moved. “Amrâlimê, you didn’t think you could leave me so easily, did you?” Thorin asked against your lips. “I wouldn’t wish too.” You kissed your King before reluctantly releasing him so that he could reunite with his Brother, Brother-in-law and Nephews.

You found yourself by that river many times over the next short years and found, as you would have been Queen, that you had a certain sway over the living realm. You watched as you were given a royal funeral beside Thorin with Kili and Fili and used your minimal manipulation over the world to help Dis grieve. Bofur found his One because you managed to set off one his toys to fly off into her hair, you watched as he spoke of you to her and called you his lost daughter, Thorin had held you when you’d sobbed at those words. When any of the company needed guidance, you managed to encourage them to the Shire to see Bilbo since his tea and advice solved most problems. When Moria was seized again you made Ori’s passing painless, so that didn’t have to suffer and could join you and the others in the Halls of Mahal.

Thorin joined you often as you visited the lake, he would ask it to show him the times of the company, like when you pulled Kili off his pony and even you and Nori got caught stealing Dwalin’s cookies. Sitting on the bank of the halls of Mahal, he held you in his arms, his company slowly joining you through the years, and watched the times that made you.

[kootenaygoon]

So,

Chaos had come to Salmon Creek.

Shortly after the American authorities escorted Shuswap Joe out the front of the River Eel Saloon in handcuffs, after they drove him across town and deposited him in jail with a murder charge, that’s when everything caught fire. The black-clad cops were kicking down doors with their guns drawn, wheeling through town with fervid abandon, scaring up criminals wherever they went. Every barrel of Shu-Scotch they discovered was axed to pieces on the spot, the streams of sweet liquid running in rivulets into the street. Meanwhile Special Agent Gord Trapper remained at the bar, where he was getting cozy with Mistress Molly and the rest of the staff. He was sure one of them held the secret to finding Joe’s distillery; he just had to figure out which one. He situated himself at a table by the window, watching smoke billow into the sky from three different building fires, and felt a satisfying warmth in his gut. It was hungry work, doing J. Edgar Hoover’s bidding, but it was well worth it.

“You may be wearing a badge, but everybody in this town knows Shuswap Joe would never murder an innocent woman,” said Mistress Molly. “You’re selling a story nobody’s going to buy.”

“Somebody killed little Lucy Applewater over there. Shot her right in the head, poor thing. Who else would it be?”

“You’re a bastard.”

“You might be right about that, madam, but I’m a bastard for the cause of justice.”

“And what about truth?”

He chuckled. “The truth is whatever I say it is.”

By the next day, Gord had arranged for a local judge to put Joe on trial for murder. The deed was done on Canadian soil, so would be settled in Canadian court. Joe was subjected to a pithy half-day proceeding, with testimony coerced from other prisoners, and found guilty without saying a word in his own defence. All he could think about was poor Lucy. What if he had left her in that doorway, where she was cowering? Why had he involved her in this skirmish? Was this his fault? The image of Gord’s bullet blasting through her skull skittered across his consciousness all day long. He had been shocked into passivity, into silence. 

It only took two men to handcuff him, to lead him into this cell and take away his freedom. Normally he would’ve gone berserk, holy with rage, but instead he was full of guilt. Was he really the man he wanted to be? Had he failed himself? Why was this happening? He questioned everything, and even wondered if it was best they just execute him. He didn’t feel like living in this type of world anyway, where one man could die for another man’s crimes. Nothing made sense to him. In the dead of night he dreamt of the Adams River, slumbering on his cot. The river eels were with him there, navigating the current. He rolled on to his back and felt the water take ahold of him.

One of the eels slithered against his neck while he floated. It began to speak to him in a watery, electric hiss. “You weren’t born to die in a hangman’s noose, Shooooswap Joe.”

“It’s out of my control.”

The second eel approached, and coiled tightly on his belly. “These men are strangers to this place, Joooooe. This is your home. You have the river and the trees and everything in between. You have ussssss.”

“They have guns.”

“Can’t you see? The river has been guiding you ever since you were a baaaaaby. Listen to its voice now. Feel its power. Don’t be afraid of death. Death should be afraid of yoooooooou.”

Right at that moment Joe was jolted awake. Three broad-shouldered Mounties with rifles had entered his cell, and were standing at attention, as a fourth ducked through the doorway. Bald as an egg, his lower face almost entirely covered by a drooping white moustache, this man was clearly near the end of his career. His companions were in uniform, but he was dressed like a burglar and had an air of secrecy about him. He sat down on the bunk opposite Joe, his head hung in shame. For a moment it seemed like he was crying. Then he shook his head, cleared his throat, and introduced himself matter-of-factly as the Commissioner. 

While he spoke, he looked down at the cobblestones.

“I’ve been in law enforcement for over four decades now, Joe. I’ve given my life to the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, my life and my soul. It’s been the only real purpose of my measly existence. I never had a family, didn’t have hobbies. I simply had a nice little life keeping the peace here in the Shuswap,” he said, his voice quavering.

“Now I had many opportunities to take shortcuts, to look the other way here or take a bribe there. Once you become a police officer there’s so many different ways you can be corrupted. You have to stay vigilant, and you have to listen to that voice inside you that tells you when something’s right, and when something’s wrong. Now I’ve never been perfect, never claimed to be, but I’m still a man and I can recognize wrong when I see it.”

He looked up now, firelight smouldering in his glassy eyes. “What Special Agent Gord Trapper did to Lucy Applewater in the River Eel Saloon was wrong. Framing you for murder, that was wrong too. And me, letting my forces stand by while these Yanks stomp all over our sovereignty, well I think that’s the wrongest thing of all.”

Joe didn’t know what to say. He’d long had a distaste for cops, but this honest-talking old man seemed in a class all his own. 

The Commissioner stood suddenly. He was just barely five feet tall, but thickly muscled from his years of riding horses. “Now what you have to understand next is that I am not just a man, Joe. I am an institution. We have a reputation to uphold, and international diplomacy to keep in mind. Whatever happens next cannot reflect poorly on the RCMP in any way, is that clear?”

Joe nodded, feeling a wash of hope flush down his arms. This guy was about to set him free. The Commissioner strutted to the end of the cell with his hands interlocked behind his back, then marched back.

“I wouldn’t be surprised to learn J. Edgar Hoover had never heard of Salmon Creek before this investigation. To him we’re just some foreign backwater nobody’s heard of, we’re all acceptable collateral damage in his ill-fated quest to rid the world of alcohol,” he said.

“But this is Canada. We’re a baby country, Joe, still building our identity every day. The actions we take may very well have repercussions for generations to come. Blood will be shed, lives will be lost. I don’t want you to have any illusions about what’s at stake. You may be nothing more than some bum bootlegger from the Shuswap, but tonight you’re going to be a soldier.”

The Commissioner sat back down to discuss the details. Trapper’s men had some credible leads, and they were taking their RCMP escorts on a mission to work their way up Salmon Creek until they found the distillery. It was only a matter of time before they would be successful. There were multiple automobiles stuffed with machine gun-toting agents, and they were hauling a Gatling gun from the Great War. It was said to be capable of sawing a man in half with its bullets. If someone didn’t warn the workers at the distillery it would be absolute carnage.

“Unfortunately, I can’t offer you any of my men for this mission without raising suspicions. I’ve given my officers strict instructions to work cooperatively with the Americans, and to raise no suspicions. Meanwhile, I intend to come with you,” he said.

“Where?” Joe asked. “Come with me where?”

At this point the Commisioner nodded to one of his officers, who passed him a bottle of Shu-Scotch. He smiled appreciatively, then accepted a pair of shot glasses. He poured them each a mouthful of the amber liquid.

“I’ve got two horses saddled outside. I’ve got all the supplies we need. If we leave tonight, I believe we can beat them to the distillery. If we can do that, then perhaps we can save some lives,” he said.

Then he pulled a lengthy blade from a sheath on his hip, and brandished it between them. He had the look of a religious zealot, like he’d finally discovered his purpose in life. He must’ve been nearly 70 years old but suddenly he had the energy of a much younger man. They stared each other down before taking their shots, smacking their lips and wincing from the sting.

“What’s the knife for?” Joe asked.

The Commissioner watched transfixed as the light glinted off it’s freshly sharpened edge. 

“You’ll see.”

The Kootenay Goon