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 Posted: Fri Apr 07, 2023 6:53 pm
no cracks
It was probably ridiculous of Lilith, to be sitting in the roof of an apartment building only a few blocks away from her own, in a pouring rainstorm, powered up and feeling deeply sorry for herself.
But that was indeed what she was doing.
It was stupid. She damned well knew that it was stupid. She would probably be sick, when she got home. But she couldn’t be in the apartment she shared with her brother, not when he was so obsessed with fretting over everything happening to Faustite. Not when she could see him coming apart at the seams, all while trying to pretend that he wasn’t completely terrified of being left behind, of losing the person he had come to love so fiercely.
Especially not when it was very likely that she, too, would be abandoning him.
Well. “Very likely” minimized the truth. Almost certain, really. She just….needed to find the right people, or well, the right person. She wondered, briefly, if it would have been smarter to simply throw herself at Princess Ida during that battle, or if that would have resulted in nothing but failure. And her death.
Ugh. She had been too afraid to do anything, and it had cost her an easy chance at getting away. Now she would have to try again, hope that she found another Princess, hope that there would be an opportunity to escape.
And there would be, if she could just wait a few patient weeks. It would be difficult, but she needed that time to plan her disappearance properly. Hinata Yukimura had to stop existing, and that would be a challenge. Moreover, she had to stop existing without alerting Haruhiko or making him suspicious. If he knew….she could not trust her brother not to rat her out. He would weigh loyalty to her against loyalty to the Negaverse, and against the safety of the man he loved, and she would not win that contest.
Truth be told, she wasn't sure he wouldn't just kill her to keep her quiet, and forget the entire infrastructure of reporting her. It almost made sense, really; Haru hated trusting things to someone else when he could do them himself. And no matter how much she assured him that she had no intentions to betray him, or Faustite, or their team, that even if Order took her before the appointed day she would not breathe a word, it wouldn't matter to him. The concept of Haru trusting something so important to chance....no, he would never, and so she would have to keep her intentions wholly secret.
She really did not intend to betray her team, though. They had never....really done anything wrong by her, all things considered. Too zealous, too loyal to Faustite by half, too eager to rip the faces off anyone who looked at their beloved General the wrong way, but a collection of fine officers. She would miss them, to a degree, she knew. There would come a day where it would be someone else checking Albite's reports, managing their messy, but beloved little group, generally working to keep the delightful idiot squad in line. It would not be her duty, and it was hard to imagine who might take it up after her. Jadarite, perhaps? She was certainly competent, and already well capable of everything that wrangling their ridiculous squad might require.
Plus, Albite clearly adored her, which was important to keep him in line.
And, in any case, if she breathed a word of the plan, that would risk Faustite's life, and whatever other failings she might have, whatever other treason she might be contemplating--Faustite was the General she'd sworn herself to. The one she'd chosen, rather than having one chosen for her. The one that had decided to take a chance on her, and let her show herself to be more than a nice pair of legs and an even nicer set of tits. He'd never once disrespected her, never acted like she was a brainless bimbo, never given her anything to dislike. It was unfortunate that his unraveling meant the team's, and that she didn't trust what they might do if he was no longer holding their collective leash. They were simply, collectively, too much of a wild card to allow her to trust.
And, she was still certain, if they ever found out about her and Keiko--about kisses and more shared in the snow of a beautiful world in space--they would undoubtedly turn on her like the ravening hounds they were. If anything went wrong with Faustite's purification, and they discovered that she was disloyal.....
She would be blamed, she was sure of it. Whether she spilled information or not, it would be her fault. So, the ambush had to go perfectly, which meant that unless something went exactly perfectly....she might have to stay in the Negaverse until it was over. Because while she was many things, while she certainly had blood on her hands, she would not have the blood of a comrade splattering them, and certainly not the General that she so admired and that her brother so dearly loved--and if there was reason to suspect that Faustite's purification might be compromised, she feared they might call it off, change the plans. And there was no time for that. Not when Faustite was dying. deteriorating rapidly, practically in front of their eyes.
And she would not allow herself to be complicit in anything that damaged his chance to survive. Truth be told, she was reluctant to consider the possibility of helping with a plan that might keep him stuck on the other side, considering what that would do to and mean for her brother. But she would have to take her shot then--Princesses were few and far between, after all, and if she was smart and canny, perhaps she would be able to stay behind. Get lost in the crowd. Get to whatever Princess freed Faustite, if there was one, or to someone else if there wasn't, and be free.
It was risky. It was tense. Lilith wasn't entirely sure she believed in her own ability to pull it off. But she had to make it happen. She had to get out, had to free herself. Because even if the team didn't turn on her, even if some shred of loyalty kept them from killing her over her relationship with Keiko, over her treasonous thoughts, over whatever else--there were worse fates. And with Faustite gone, she would be thrown adrift again. It was hard to trust the possibility that she might get lucky twice, get another General who liked and respected her. Perhaps she would be allowed to stay with Albite--or perhaps, no matter Jet's protection or not, their team would be broken apart for fear that they harbored a traitor regardless.
Ugh. This whole thing was utterly miserable, and Lilith hated it. She hated the stupid girl who had heard pretty promises from the Negaverse and decided to cast in her lot with them. She hated the woman who reveled in the power it gave her--power that she lost in so many other aspects of her life. She hated how good it felt to be an officer, hated how much it felt right. Hated that she had chosen this, every step of the way,t hat no one had lied to her or manipulated her or anything. She was the idiot. She was the one who bought the propaganda, who signed up, the one who wasn't even sure she completely disbelieved it. Even now. Even after everything.
If there was a way to serve the Negaverse, and keep Keiko, and keep her life, and not have to be afraid, would she take it? Perhaps. But she suspected that she had left that chance behind several other choices ago. She wasn't sure exactly where; had this all been set in motion from her first kiss with that beautiful girl? From the moment she joined Faustite's team? Earlier, even? Was her career in the Negaverse inevitably going to end with her fleeing into the light, or was there a way that she could have done this where she would be safe and comfortable and powerful, forever?
(Because, truth be told, she loathed to give up the power. She hated the thought of going back to not having any recourse against shitty men and their groping, grabby hands. She hated knowing that she would never again experience the high of ripping a starseed from some creep who didn't deserve to breathe air. That probably made her a terrible person. Lilith wasn't sure she cared.)
She inhaled, tensely, and stood up, and started to pace the rooftop. There was much work to do, much to figure out--her life as Hinata Yukimura had to end as carefully as possible. She had to vanish. Had to make sure that it seemed natural. It would be complicated; she wasn't sure exactly how she would manage it all. But she could do it, she knew.
She had to do it, or she was doomed.
1,521 words
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Posted: Fri Apr 07, 2023 11:40 pm
no breaks
It was easier than Lilith expected, to start transferring her money out of her accounts. She couldn't take all of it, of course; to draw it all out would be stupid, and far too obvious. But she could begin. Siphoning bits and pieces here and there. Moving things between accounts, through ones her brother didn't know about, to hidden Paypals and Venmos and Cashapp accounts whose information was kept in a little notebook that she hid in her subspace. It was her insurance: her promise to herself that whatever else happened, she was going to at least have some money in her new life.
It was probably shallow to think of that. To plan to take money, to secure herself financially for however long it took for the New Her to find a new job, get comfortable, live the way she was used to.
Would she ever be able to live the way she was used to again? Ugh, the thought made her furious. It wasn't fair, really--that she had to give up her whole life, everything she had built and worked for, just because she wanted to change magical girl teams. Because this bullshit infiltrated every single ******** aspect of her life. Because there was no space for Hinata to exist without Lilith, not once Lilith was born. The second she'd agreed to join the Negaverse, she'd signed away her life in ways she wasn't even aware of. It made her wish she could go back in time, run away, refuse, find an Order cat and just be on the right side from the start. Then, she wouldn't have to do this. she'd be able to keep everything that she had made for herself over the years.
And it hadn't been ******** easy, either. She'd had to hide, at first. Mostly showed off her gameplay. Only slowly gotten into chatting and interacting, because she realized that made people stick around more than just a silent gameplay stream. Endured who ******** even knew how much harassment--she'd stopped counting the number of death threats, rape threats, horrible suggestions of what people would like to do to her years ago. It had not gotten better when she'd finally shown her face on stream, when the creep faction had a set of tits to attach their fantasies to.
But it had helped in other ways. People liked her streams. Liked her looks. Sent her money for suggestive photos--for much more than that when she started her OnlyFans. And yeah, sure, the harassment never stopped. The dogpiling came like clockwork any time she had a gameplay clip get a lot of attention, or one of her long-term haters remembered she existed and had to have a go at the Tiddy Streamer that was, as best as she could tell, the bane of his existence and the object of all his weird, dehumanizing fantasies. It never stopped being gross. It never stopped feeling awful. It never stopped being the reason that she wanted the power the Negaverse gave her.
More often than she liked to admit to, when Lilith drew energy off some random, she imagined that they were one of the people that had tried to bury her in vitriolic abuse. Imagined that they were one of the ones that sent her graphic fantasies, that insisted she was faking, that asserted she couldn't possibly be who she said she was, that she was the face for some dude who was actually pulling off her gameplay.
The one thing that had made it worthwhile, that had kept her going, was that--goddamnit, she was living off this. She was out of her parents' house, away from her father, and she was doing it with her skills and her face and her voice. And people liked her. Wanted her. Wanted to be her.
And if she wanted to keep her head and play for the right magical girl team, all of that would have to go away.
It.
Wasn't.
Fair.
Really! Why couldn't she have just Awakened on the right side! Sure, she wouldn't have been able to stop her father quite as easily--no starseed pulling for the pretty people in white--but surely, between her and Alkmene, they could have taken him down. She could have kept her brother safe. Could have kept him from going to the Negaverse, and selling his own soul.
Could have kept him from meeting Faustite, who made him so happy. Who was currently breaking his heart. Was that for the better or for the worse? Maybe only time would tell, and Lilith certainly didn't have a lot of that left. Certainly right now, it seemed like it might have been for the better, when she was watching him come apart at the seams. But fit he plan worked, if Faustite was returned to them whole and fully human, perhaps it wouldn't be. She was no oracle, for all that she loved her tarot cards. The future was a mystery to her. She was left guessing and hoping, in the end.
And knowing that she couldn't just leave Haru to himself. He'd certainly gotten himself some attention online, was pulling in some money because he had the right kind of pretty boy charm for a specific subset of people who were happy to throw money at that, never mind monetizing his music, but it wasn't nearly what she was getting, and she couldn't ******** off on him.
So some of her money was pulled out into cash, hidden under her bed, where he would almsot certainly find it after she left. Fortunately for her, she could trust that he wouldn't touch her stuff now--for one, he was far too distracted with Faustite to even consider that anything might have been going on with her, even ignoring that he was just....not the type of person to snoop through his sister's s**t. Not after how their father had been, turning their rooms upside down when seeking evidence of things they had done wrong so he could come after them for it. They'd learned respect for each other's privacy at the end of a fist, and with a promise to never, ever be like that. To trust each other. To only look in an emergency.
Her disappearing, she suspected, would qualify as enough of an emergency to get him to look, and he would find a duffel bag of cash. Silly, yes. Tropey, certainly. But an effective way to store some money to keep her brother financially secure after she was gone.
It was in that bag that she left a note.
Quote: Haru,
I'm sorry I couldn't tell you this to your face. I'm sure you understand, though--I love you, of course, but I can't trust you with this kind of thing.
I've left. Gone over to the other side. If we ever see each other again, it's likely I won't remember you. So I'll say here what I won't be able to say to your face: you're my big brother. You've always looked out for me and Tomoko, and I need you to keep looking out for her after I'm gone. And tell her that I love her too, please. That it's not about either of you.
But I can't stay in the Negaverse.
The calculus is simple, nii-san: our team is fanatically loyal to Faustite. Faustite is going to be irrevocably changed. And, if I may confess, there's this girl. Someone on the other side that I've been seeing for a long time now. Faustite knows about her--well, sort of. I certainly asked some questions about acceptable tactics in the vaguest way possible; I doubt he ever suspected it was a genuine romantic entanglement. But I love her, and even ignoring that, I've bene involved with her in secret for far too long for it not to pose a danger, at this point. If our team ever found out, I would be dead, and I really like being alive, nii-san, so this is how it has to be.
Tell the others I'm sorry, and that I hope they're all well, but that with all the adoration in my withered little heart, I hope we never see each other again. Again, truly: I like being alive, and I trust that they will do their very best to make me very dead for my treason.
But trust: I have revealed nothing. I will reveal nothing. Order will learn of none of our plans from me. I would not hurt you, or Faustite, or them in that way.
The next time we meet, we'll be on opposite sides. But let me hope for a moment that we won't be enemies, as foolish as that hope may be.
Love,
Hina
A last message for the brother she adored. A hope that perhaps he might find it in his heart to forgive her.
She doubted it, of course. But hope was, in the end, all she had.
1,502 words
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Posted: Sat Apr 08, 2023 4:12 pm
no mistakes
it was easy, honestly.
Too easy, if Hinata thought about it.
She rarely gave any time or attention, emotionally speaking, to the people that hated her for the various crimes of “being an attractive woman on the Internet”. Seemed a silly thing to get all dramatic about, but so many men who followed her as a streamer looked at her and saw their “me love you long time” fantasy, or their Dragon Lady, or their anime waifu, or their big tiddy goth gf, and forgot that she was a real person. And sure, she played into that a little. She let them have their fantasies. Those fantasies paid.
The problem was, there was the flip side, as there was with everything. The ones that were mad at her for existing. The Frollos who couldn’t handle the existence of a woman they were attracted to. The incels who were offended that a pretty woman was successful and unashamed of her body. The ones who had projected their fantasies onto her, once, but she’d done or said something that shattered the fantasy, and they couldn’t handle it.
There were lots of people in the first category. And there were just as many in the second.
She’d dealt with hate, abuse, and harassment of just about every flavor since she’d started getting popular. Moreso since she’d gone pro and dedicated herself to streaming full time. It was the way of things, as far as she understood, and there were so many things about herself that she kept under wraps just to protect herself. Games she played off stream became precious secrets that couldn’t be shared, so chat couldn’t ruin them for her. Her actual attractions were closely guarded; couldn’t damage her audience’s fantasy of being able to get with her. There was so much Hinata had to pretend not to be.
Perhaps it would be nice to leave all that behind. She'd thought, before, of all the positives it had brought her. All the hard work she'd done to claw out her own space. But that wasn't the whole picture. Not by a long shot. There was so much about it that just...sucked. That was exhausting. That was having to put on a performance for three hours a day, five days a week, with bonus extra naughty performances on weekends. There were no days off, either, really. Her Twitter had to be perfectly curated so as not to leak too much real personality all over people's fantasies. And yeah, sure, she had a hidden account for the things she really loved, but the fact that she had to have two different accounts, that never could the personalities cross....it ******** sucked.
Every piece of her that she put out there felt like a piece of herself she lost.People expected too many things of her. Too many specifics. She had to sing the songs they wanted, perform the way they l;iked, dress the way they expected, as long as she was on camera, and even when she was off it.
(But she had done one thing with it, for herself. Her last cover--not that she'd said so. Not that anyone knew. But a remake of one she'd done a few years before, one that felt all too appropriate now.)
"Beware, beware the Daughter of the Sea."
"Beware," I heard him cry.
His words carried upon the ocean breeze,
As he sank beneath the tide.
Those blood-soaked shores of Kalimdor,
Where sailors fought and died.
The Admiral fell at Theramore,
because she left his side.
She would not, she had to admit, miss those particular parts of this life.
And, in any case, it was far easier than she'd thought, to light the match that would burn down everything she'd built.
There were, after all, plenty of people who hated her. And she'd never really infiltrated their circles--wasn't so concerned that she created socks to monitor what they were saying or anything absurd like that--but she knew where they hung out. Knew who the ringleaders were. Knew exactly what they looked for, exactly what they would hate.
Exactly what might light the fire to start a mob.
Part of her felt wrong for doing this; surely there was a better way to make her online presence disappear. Surely it didn't have to all go down in flames. But in truth, she knew; it did. It would. There was no other option. She couldn't simply stop posting; people would worry, people would ask questions, it might draw attention to her disappearance in ways she didn't want. There were too many variables. Better to close it all out. Better to stop being Ironwing and become someone entirely new.
And what better way to end it all than by bringing the wrath of the online mob down on her.
It was a martyrdom, of sorts, and she knew that. A dramatic exit that would by necessity put a lot of eyes on her on her way out. But, well, she was taking an arson fire to her whole life. Might as well at least let her online presence go out with a spectacular bang.
After all, she'd given so much to make this. She wanted to destroy it on her own terms.
The thing was, she had options. The right reveal at the right time, and she wouldn't even have to do anything. They'd descend perfectly naturally. But she wanted to be sure.
A slip. A retweet of some racy fanart of exactly the "wrong" "problematic" ship to the "wrong" account. A gasp, an apology, a deleted tweet and a coverup. But it had been screenshotted, was undoubtedly being passed around to exactly the sort of people who cared way, way too much about that sort of thing. Then, a couple of trans positive posts--silly that such a thing would work, but the incel squad was the easiest to bait. An expression of support for another streamer that was being harassed, because she’d found that inevitably turned people on you, especially if they thought the other streamer “deserved” it for some asinine ******** reason.
And they already wanted to hate her. All she had to do, at that point, was sit back and watch the shitstorm brew.
It was magical, almost. And even knowing that she'd done this herself, incited it on purpose--it really was remarkable, how fast it spilled over. And, of course, the only thing to do was to keep posting, to attract more attention, to make the storm bigger.
People wanted to hate. Wanted an excuse to unleash their rage on the Internet, on someone they already barely considered a real person. It was almost spectacular, the vitriol that started pouring into her replies, her mentions, her DMs.
Step one was to close her DMs, with a public notice and apology.
Step two: mention changing her @-mention settings.
Step three: be very public about turning off replies on several of her tweets.
Let them think they were winning. It made for more blood in the water. And the more blood, the more sharks that would inevitably circle.
It wasn't that it didn't suck. Hinata hated every minute of it. Just because she'd tipped it on purpose, just because she'd known it was coming--just because she was, in some ways, used to this kind of treatment, because people had been saying all these things to her for years, making all of these accusations, attacking her for exactly the same things they always had. But it was never easy, and the thing was: even though she'd started it, even though she'd been one hundred percent certain it would work?
It still hurt to see it work so goddamn well.
Human beings in a mob, and so on.
Haru was worried about her, she could tell, not least because she had to let it marinate for a few days, and if she was honest, it was taking a toll on her. She wouldn't be sorry to let this part of her life go, really. It would be nice to not have to watch what she said so carefully. To be able to retweet art of fictional girls kissing without getting accused of being a horrible person because they were the wrong fictional girls. To be openly, fully herself, because she wasn't pretending to be a pretty doll.
He suggested she step back, that with everything else going on, she didn't need this too. She agreed, of course. That was the point.
And, in this, she was restrained. A simple announcement that she would be stepping away from social media. Privating her accounts that could be privated. Making a clear statement that she wouldn't be posting for a while on the ones that weren't.
She wondered if she would forget all of this. If the new her might stumble back into the same traps, or if she might be able to make something that was more joy than stress out of it. Or if this would be what she remembered, the careful preparations to close out the life of Hinata Yukimura, and it would keep her away from it.
Hina wasn't sure what she hoped for.
All she knew was that this was a clean break from what she'd had before, and a clean break was what she needed.
The rest, the details—those were for after.
1,521 words
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Posted: Sun Mar 31, 2024 9:01 pm
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