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#I should check again after Discover University releases
mollywog · 8 months
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Everlark Executioner AU inspired by this post
Read on Ao3
Had the messenger arrived a day earlier, he would have been greeted by a yellow flag above our door, and had to turn back, summons undelivered.
The odds, however, are not in my favor.
My sister, having been ill the week prior, had quarantined us both at home. She hadn’t been fearfully sick, just unwilling to put her patients at risk. The flag hadn’t prohibited me from hunting alone but it had kept the townspeople and duties away for a spell.
I should have known my temporary reprieve would need repaid in spades.
So as my luck would have it, there's no obstacle to the trembling messenger boy delivering the summons. It seems my services are needed for a midnight hanging.
I am an executioner by chance, not choice. Well that’s not exactly true.
Though the Capital acts as judge and jury, the districts must supply the hangman. And because no one willingly seeks the position, about once a generation, they hold a ceremony to select a new one. They call it a reaping: someone’s idea of a joke. Haymitch Abernathy’s name had been drawn twenty odd years ago after the previous executioner had disappeared into the wild, never to be seen again. Haymitch should have been it for another decade or so, but he’d given everyone a scare two years back when he fell off his horse and into a coma for a week. He came to no worse for the wear but the district officials decided he needed an apprentice lest they discover him face down in a ditch with no one to measure their next noose. My name had not been called, but my sister’s had.
I ‘volunteered’ to take her place, but there was really never a choice in it. She never would’ve survived the social isolation let alone the job requirements.
After that my sister and I moved to the far edge of the District near the woods. It’s better not to know the condemned or subject the town to my presence. Most people know the proper direction of their anger, most don’t blame the executioner, but they still avert their gaze and hold their children tighter to their chest as I pass.
My sister, Primrose, on the other hand, is universally admired; a born healer in a place where there are few and the need is great. If I keep myself scarce, they still seek her out for treatments.
Prim is somber as she hands my satchel up to me. She’s used to hearing news from town ahead of time but with our week sequestered, we know nothing of who I may face. But Midnight hangings are reserved for the most deprived criminals,so I’ll take solace that the wearer of my necklace will be worthy of it.
The hanging tree mars the district skyline. It looms ominously over the landscape, growing as I approach the center of town.
The fog thins as I arrive at the tree, a noose is already in place as invitation to the crowd. The messenger this morning claimed the hangman was indisposed, but Haymitch has at least prepared that much before absconding into his bottle; He will have taken into account the wearer’s height and weight when selecting the rope's gauge and length: I inspect his work. Likely a man: Average height, but well fed. I release a breath: no chance it will be a child today.
In the Justice building I check in with the clerk and settle in a seat. Dropping my head back, I close my eyes, pretending to nap, lest someone try to speak to me. I hear fragments of the gossip: three murdered.. a fire… caught red-handed. At least this time my nightmares will revolve around the condemned’s actions and not my own.
Time crawls by. The growing clamor outside is my cue that the time is nearing and I shrug on the executioner's robe, rubbing my sweaty palms down the fabric at the thighs. The hood isn’t necessary, Haymitch gave it up years ago, everyone knows who we are, but I flip the material over my head anyways. If only it could shield me from my conscience.
I had always assumed Haymitch drank because he didn’t care. Now I know it’s the opposite; he drinks because he can’t help caring. I refuse to fall victim to the bottle, it doesn’t solve the guilt, I suppose nothing will, but there are other ways to live with myself.
I take the dose of elixer Prim packed with enough time for the herbs to take effect, making me feel hollow enough to perform the job, but as I exit the Justice building, I'm immediately on edge despite the tonic
Something’s not right.
Through the numbness I can feel the stilted weight of the crowd. The low simmering of discontent is unexpected. With the allegations, I’d expected eagerness if not indifference.
I take my place on the platform. The mayor nods in my direction distractedly.
Head Peacekeeper, Thread, emerges from the prison, two uniformed men in tow, dragging the limping convict. His head is bent, obstructing my view of his face, but I take in the broad shoulders and yellow hair. Another surprise. The man I am to execute is from the merchant side of town, where most have the means to survive without breaking the laws or bribe the Peacekeepers into turning a blind eye.
The man is placed beside me and I discreetly peer around my hood for a better look. The name registers right before it is spoken. My stomach drops.
Peeta Mellark
Oh, no. Not him. No, the odds are not in my favor today.
Why him? I think. Then I try to convince myself it doesn’t matter. Peeta Mellark and I are not friends. Not even neighbors. We don’t speak. Our only real interaction happened years ago. He’s probably forgotten it. But I haven’t and I know I never will.
At eleven and in my lowest moment a boy had risked a beating to give me two loaves of hardy bread. The loaves and the hope it provided saved my life. I haven’t yet found the courage to thank him, and now I never will I think as I stare at the boy with the bread’s limp form.
I’ve broken into a sweat despite the chilled breeze. The Mayor reads the charges, but I hear nothing except a buzzing in my ears.
I’m fighting through a violet haze to make sense of my dilemma. I cannot kill this man, but refusal to do so will earn me a spot swinging beside him. Damn Haymitch! This should have been his problem, and I could have wiped my hands clean if Peeta Mellark. But no, that’s not right either. My debt and his death would haunt me for the rest of my miserable life. Besides, something in my gut tells me I am meant to be here, that there’s still yet something I can do.
A single word floats to the top of my memory.
“Nightlock,” I murmur, no more than a whisper, but it’s enough for the mayor to pause his reading. In the years of my apprenticeship it was only mentioned once. Haymitch had been drunk. Much drunker than usual when he’d discussed a small list of extenuating circumstances and loopholes. When I’d pressed him for more, he’d told me to ‘forget it’ before shattering a bottle and demanding I leave. I had left, but not before hearing him break down in sobs. I’d seen him in all forms of drunk, but never so much as to weep. So, of course, the word was immediately, irrevocably branded into my brain.
“Excuse me?” The Mayor interrupts my muddled memories.
“Nightlock,” I state more firmly.
At the sound of my voice Peeta lifts his head and sways on his feet. The motion reveals what his hair has concealed; a lump, angry and purple over his eye. He’s likely concussed.
There is a mixed reaction among the crowd at my outcry: mostly confusion, but some of the older spectators understand the implications of what I have said and begin whispering among the crowd. The Mayor mops his brow, his pained expression cautiously hopeful, “Do you wish to enact the nightlock clause Ms Everdeen?”
“I do” my voice sounds foreign to me; More fierce and decisive than my foggy mind.
“And Mr Mellark do you accept?” I grasp his arm urging him to stand straighter, supporting him under my shoulders. “Trust me,” I whisper. He has no reason to believe me, but I suppose it doesn’t matter; his only other option is the dangling rope.
His mouth twitches in something of a grin. It can only be a reflex though, I’m surprised he’s lucid enough to slur out, “I do,” and when he does, I’m uncertain whether it’s in response to the mayor or in answer to my plea.
Either way he’s said the words; The ones that will save him from the gallows and bind him to a new fate
“Then I now pronounce you man and wife,” The Mayor’s voice booms over the crowd. “Congratulations Mr Mellark, you’ve been granted a pardon.”
The Hanging Tree Series
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destiny-smasher · 2 years
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After three years of off-and-on development in my spare time (after conceptualizing the characters and concept in the mid 2010's), I finally pushed myself to release my work-in-progress build of the original visual novel I've been creating!
DownRight Fierce by Destiny-Smasher
A visual novel about fighting game gals finding themselves, losing themselves, and finding themselves again.
The slice-of-life shenanigans of visual novels like @brianna-lei's Butterfly Soup and D̷o̸k̷i̸ ̴D̶o̷k̶i̸ ̸L̴i̷t̷e̶r̸a̸t̵u̸r̴e̵ ̴C̵l̶u̴b̷ meet the quirky, power-infused worlds of fighting games like Street Fighter and Rival Schools in this character driven visual novel. Designed to feel like the fully fleshed out backstory of a small fighting game roster, DownRight Fierce will have players riding shotgun with protagonist Nishiko Shimomura as they are shipped off to a private school after acting out one too many times by abusing their latent Street Fighter -esque powers. Nishiko will have to navigate relationships in Windy Pines Academy, a strict boarding school designed to train those who are able to wield Ki-Flow, the ability to manifest one's own soul and spirit energy into physical form.
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Make choices that will influence Nishiko's personal growth, from physical attributes to friendships and, if you're lucky, perhaps some sweethearting on the side. The choices you make will alter Nishiko's abilities, affecting how they perform later on in fighting scenes, as well as unlocking or locking dialogue options at various points. Think of this like a TellTale/Life is Strange styled game with a primary narrative but branching side scenes and various alternate moments -- much less flashy presentation but a lot more variables and variation in things that can happen during scenes.
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I personally do not think a character's identity or sexuality should inherently be considered a 'spoiler,' but I can respect wanting to discover these characters' identities yourself in-universe. So for now, what I will make clear is that this is a queer, LGBT+ story, featuring characters of various ethnicities and identities.
I created this story concept and its main characters in ~2014, and the release of Butterfly Soup inspired me to start adapting it and rebooting it as a visual novel. I've been working on it sporadically since January 2020, and this is the first public release of my progress so far. As of this build (January 31, 2023) I've managed to edit the Prologue through to much of Chapter 2. I'll leave what I have past that present in this build, and intend to do a follow-up update in February or March to bring things up to the end of Chapter 3 before progressing further into the game's development using feedback I get from this public build.
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Thanks for checking the project out, and please let me know what you think of it! I have a lot of work to do but this is a big first step for me and the project has come such a long way since I started it.
(Yes, there is a $ tsundere stat)
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(Logo art by Shannon Ehrola, Character sprite art by @sakura-rose12, and smoke photo by Pascal Meier. )
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ear-worthy · 7 months
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Ear Worthy: Markle Redux; Pod The North Sparkles ; Augmented Reality Guidelines
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Meghan Markle podcast -- Part Deux
 "If you don't succeed, try, try again" is a familiar maxim for those who screwed up the first time.
The podcast network, Lemonada, is taking a chance on a second chance. The network just announced a new creative partnership with Meghan Markle, The Duchess of Sussex. As part of their new deal, Lemonada will distribute the first season of the award-winning “Archetypes” for all audio platforms and also develop a new original podcast series as yet untitled hosted by Meghan, The Duchess of Sussex. 
In 2020, Spotify had announced a $20 million podcast deal with Markle. Although the podcast Markle produced and hosted, Archetypes, was generally well-received, Spotify abruptly canceled the deal last year when it discovered to its surprise that its "We will conquer the podcast universe by throwing money at it" strategy failed.
Archetypes has seen over 10 million downloads, averaging nearly a million listens per episode, and debuted as Spotify’s No.1 podcast in 47 countries around the world.
No word yet on guests, but Archetypes didn't have a problem attracting big-name guests, from Serena Williams to Mariah Carey.
_____________________________________________________
 Canada's Finest Podcast Newsletter -- Pod The North
I think it must suck a lot to be America's neighbor. Overlooked, misunderstood, and patronized, Canadians actually do have their own media universe. 
We have Canada to thank for Rachel McAdams, Celine Dion, Michael J. Fox, Ryan Gosling, Ryan Reynolds, and many others. Can we return Elon Musk for a full refund?
And guess what, America? Canada is kicking our ass in all kinds of podcast engagement,
 Did you know that 71% of Canadians have listened to at least one podcast at some point, and 29% of Canada’s monthly podcast listeners spend at least five hours per week listening to podcasts?
 Revenue from podcast advertising is expected to reach $127.1 million in Canada in 2023, and brands have seen 89% higher brand awareness after advertising on podcasts. Even more impressive, 51% of bi-weekly podcast listeners have bought a product after hearing about it on a podcast.
And the future is bright for Canadian podcasters because 42% of Canadian monthly podcast listeners are aged 18 to 34 years old, so they'll be around listening for a long time.
If you're interested in podcasting in Canada, be sure to check out the Pod The North Substack newsletter by Kattie Laur.  
Pod the North is a free, biweekly newsletter aimed at uplifting the Canadian podcast ecosystem and fostering community. In each issue, you’ll find ecosystem commentary (to keep you in the loop), podcast recommendations, opportunities for your podcast ($$$ and notoriety!), and digestible interviews with Canadian podcasters who you need to know about. 
Kattie Laur is an Award-Winning Freelance Podcast Producer, Consultant, and Writer based in the Greater Toronto Area. Last October, Kattie hosted a live anniversary celebration of Pod the North in Toronto. I'm sure they'll be more live events to come.
You can reach Kattie: @Podkatt (Twitter, Spotify, and Goodpods) | @ PodtheNorth (Bluesky)
Here's an example of a Pod The North story. 
"In a press release that came out this morning, Canadaland has announced the launch of CanadaLabs,a hub for the next generation of audio journalists, open calls for short audio stories from across Canada, and applications to become Canadaland’s first Audio Journalism Fellows."
Check out Pod the North if you're a Canadian podcast fan, or an American who realizes that Canada has more to offer than ice hockey, Banff, and maple syrup.  
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Guidelines for Augmented Reality in Ads just released
For many, I'm sure this announcement is filed in the "I don't give a s**t" category.
But we should care, because guidelines on the use of any new technology is critically important. Look what happened when we left social media to do whatever the f***k it wanted. We got Mark Zuckerberg, Elon Musk, trolls, Nazis, Chinese bots, "Fakebook," the conspiracy theory of the day, and Donald Trump midnight rage messages.
So here's what is going on.
 In collaboration, the Interactive Advertising Bureau (IAB) and Media Rating Council (MRC) have released their Augmented Reality (AR) Measurement Guidelines to establish clear and consistent definitions and measurement guidelines for ads within Augmented Reality campaigns. The guidelines are open for public comment for a 30-day period until March 9th, 2024. 
The IAB AR Measurement Guidelines Task Force, working with MRC, set forth guidelines for advertisers and marketers to quantify how much media is delivered and gauge how well their media achieved their business objectives within AR media campaigns.
“Brands are increasingly utilizing AR in their media campaigns to connect with consumers in more meaningful and immersive ways,” said Zoe Soon, VP, Experience Center, IAB. “The Augmented Reality advertising market is projected to generate $1.2 Billion in revenue in the U.S. this year. Thus, as an industry, we need to establish a greater consistency on how we define and measure AR advertising to foster fairness and transparency for buyers and sellers.”
To effectively capture the impact of AR campaigns, these guidelines set a framework to establish clear and consistent definitions for ad delivery, viewability, audience, engagement, and performance. The guidelines are inclusive of AR’s interactive and immersive formats, as AR can accrue non-physical interactions with products as well as the physical interactions related to browsing in the context of attribution.
Did you get all that? Good. Now, can you explain it to me.
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izdatazn · 8 months
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S.U.I.T.S - Terran's Hidden War
TERRAN 1 - BIRTH OF FIRE
"Miyagawa Akane, do you have it in your sights?" she asked, sprinting through the thick bushes.
"Confirmed, Asuka," replied Akane. She kept her eyes on the figure as it ran into the darkness. "It's heading towards the shed near the border. Aikawa Eiji, where are you?"
"I'm chasing after it," Aikawa responded, increasing his speed. "I had no idea it could retreat so quickly."
"Well, whatever you do, do it quickly, Eiji," Akane urged as she pursued them. She briefly stopped to aim her gun at the hooded figure and fired before continuing her chase. "If it crosses the 38th parallel into North Korea, capturing this hooded figure will become much more difficult."
""Miyoung, can you offer some assistance?" Asuka inquired, tossing her fan at the figure as she caught up to them.
"Certainly," Miyoung replied. Perched on a nearby tree atop a hill, she focused her attention on the hooded figure. Despite Akane's skilled sharpshooting, they were unable to halt the figure's progress. Miyoung aimed her gun at the hooded individual and adjusted her monocle sights.
Her bullet struck the hooded figure's shoulder, causing it to stumble forward. It rolled violently before crawling towards an abandoned shed. Just as it reached for the door handle, Aikawa swiftly intervened and chained the wounded figure before it could attack again. Asuka joined him in restraining it and reached for its hoodie with burning anger in her eyes.
"You're not going anywhere," she hissed vehemently at the hooded figure. Akane arrived shortly after and used her gun to further immobilize it. "I should kill you instead!" Asuka shouted furiously. She retrieved her pistol from her pouch and aimed it directly at their captive's head. "Don't do it, Asuka," Miyoung warned as she spoke. "The SUITs want to interrogate the hooded figure." Asuka stubbornly kept her gun aimed at the figure, her hand visibly trembling. Her anger was evident in her eyes. "Don't jeopardize the mission, Asuka."
Aikawa approached and carefully reached for the gun. Lowering it, he firmly took hold of it. "We have what we need, Shigihara." Aikawa gently released her hold on the pistol and took it away from Asuka. "Asuka, we need to go.”
I gazed around the brightly lit medical room where I was undergoing a check-up. The room was filled with advanced futuristic and sleek medical equipment, unlike anything I had seen in modern hospitals in Japan. I lay on a bed while something above me scanned my vital signs. Standing beside me was a woman tapping on something that was hidden from my view.
She spoke, "If you're speechless because of my beauty, don't bother. I'm way out of your league, Issei Kobayashi." She continued speaking firmly and directly, "Plus, I'm over a couple hundred years old and married to Daisuke Modegi."
"He's married?" I exclaimed in surprise.
"Didn't he tell you that he's also a couple hundred years old and mentioned his post-graduation at Tokyo University?" she asked. I nodded. "Seems like he fooled you. By the way, my name is Kokoro Tanaka. It's finally nice to meet you." She continued writing and finished after a few minutes when the machine stopped scanning me. "Well, it doesn't seem like anything serious is happening to you internally or externally, but we'll do a few more check-ups over the next couple of weeks.”
I straightened my posture and extended my dominant arm to grab the guest jacket, only to discover that it had been severed by the hooded figure. Using my non-dominant hand, I carefully wrapped it around my shoulder. This is going to take some getting used to. As I scanned the surroundings momentarily, curiosity engulfed me: "Do you have any information about what happened to my friends?"
Kokoro answered confidently, "They're in the room next door on your right.”
Kokoro Tanaka was born in 1160 into the influential Minamoto clan, which shared power in Japan with the Taira, Fujiwara, and Tachibana clans. In 1180, a civil war erupted between the Minamoto and Taira clans. During this time, Kokoro served under Tomoe Gozen as one of many female warriors who fought alongside samurai men. Unfortunately, Kokoro was later captured by Lady Hangar Gozen of the Taira clan. She endured slavery and abuse at the hands of Gozen until 1201, when both were involved in the Kennin Rebellion and ultimately perished during battle.
I conveyed my gratitude to her and exited the room before making a right turn into the adjacent one. As soon as I stepped inside, Hideki and Ren came into view lying in their beds. Nanako sat by Ren's bedside, attentively monitoring him while holding his hand. Ren was hooked up to several medical devices, indicating a more serious condition compared to Hideki's. Nanako noticed my entrance but remained focused on her little brother's well-being.
I fetched a chair and positioned myself between Hideki and Ren in the SUITS medical ward. Despite a week having passed, they were still in the process of recovering from their intense battle with the red lady. Since that incident, Nanako hadn't left Ren's side for even a moment. Thankfully, he had survived both the explosion and fire; however, he had suffered severe second-degree burns.
I solemnly picked up Hideki's broken eyeglasses from the table and examined them. My reflection stared back at me through the cracked lens. With a heavy heart, I gently touched the noticeable scar that crossed my left eye. A sigh escaped me as I said, "I apologize, Nanako.”
"You don't need to," Nanako replied, firmly grasping Ren's hand. "This isn't your fault anyway." She felt his grip tighten as tears streamed down her face while he slowly regained consciousness. "Oh, thank goodness," she said, her voice trembling as she embraced him tightly. "Please stay at home and live a normal life."
"Nanako," he complained. "You're hurting me.”
I heard footsteps echoing down the hallway, and soon enough, Kumiko appeared before me. With a sigh of relief, she rushed over and embraced me tightly, burying her face in my shoulder. Her voice was muffled as she spoke through tears, "I thought you were dead, Kobayashi. I never expected to see you again."
A groan erupted from the bed on my right, and Hideki whispered irritably, “Can’t you guys be loud somewhere else? I'm trying to rest." Nanako retaliated by throwing a pillow at him and retorting, "You know I'm injured too, Nanako?"
"Shut up!" she snapped.
"It's good to see that you're alive and well," I chuckled at Hideki. He weakly lifted his arm towards me and made a fist. I tapped it with my own hand.
"You owe me a dinner date," he joked.
I glanced over Kumiko's shoulder and noticed a couple of familiar figures standing outside in the hallway. It was Asuka and Aikawa, observing us from a distance. For a brief moment, my eyes met with Asuka's. Her eyes conveyed a sense of relief that I was alive and well. She didn't want to disrupt the emotional reunion.
We shared a room with Asuka, Aikawa, and Akane. Kumiko was not present, but Shiro was with us. It felt like we were back in class as we sat in the front row with Shiro at the center.
"The Grim Reaper," Shiro said, referring to the hooded figure. "Based on recent information from its capture from before, it was following orders from Raquel Gustov, also known as the Red Lady." A holographic scene of our school appeared in the room. "You caused quite a scene, Kobayashi," I observed as I noticed the destruction on campus that I had unknowingly caused.
"Me?" I asked confusedly.
"Yes," Shiro replied. "Fortunately for us, the illusion shield held strong and no civilians were harmed. However, it did take time to rebuild your school before we could turn off the shields." He continued as he showed me a couple of social media videos on popular platforms. The videos depicted The Grim Reaper suddenly emerging from the illusion shield and causing chaos in a restaurant by injuring its patrons. "Within just a few days, these videos garnered millions of views."
"We didn't anticipate things getting out of hand," Asuka said. "That video instilled fear in people."
"We collaborated with world governments and companies to swiftly remove the video before it spread further," Shiro explained further. "Due to Kumiko's recklessness, she will face trial with SUITs council. There are rules that SUITS Agents must abide by; otherwise, they may cause consequences that humanity is not prepared for.”
Asuka inquired, "How are you feeling?"
"I'm famished," I replied. "I haven't eaten since I woke up."
She giggled and suggested, "Come with me, let's grab something to eat."
"Okay, but why is Aikawa following us?" I asked, slightly annoyed.
"I'm here to catch my love rival in case you suddenly faint," Aikawa retorted with a smirk.
"Oh, how romantic," teased Asuka.
After leaving the medical wing, we entered a sprawling open atrium bustling with SUITS agents. They strolled around while multiple elevators were attached to the walls for going up or down. As we made our way through another hallway towards the abandoned cafeteria wing, we passed by an information service desk situated at the center of the atrium.
Finally settling at a circular table in the cafeteria, my companions watched as I slowly devoured a bowl of Chicken and Egg Rice along with another bowl of Pork Cutlet and Egg Rice. Additionally, I ordered a plate of sashimi accompanied by miso soup and Japanese dumplings. It was challenging for me to use chopsticks with my non-dominant hand.
"Allow me to assist," Aikawa offered kindly as he extended his hand towards the chopsticks.
"I don't require any help," I argued in response.
"Just take a look at yourself," Aikawa retorted, lifting the pork cutlet with his left hand and reaching for the chopsticks with his right. "It pains me to see you struggling while eating." He proceeded to lend a hand in helping me enjoy my meal.
“This is so cute,” Asuka whispered. She reached for her phone. “I need a picture and send it to the others.” She snapped the picture as she quietly giggled. “Ima savior this. Issei so cute here.”
"Oh, good! I didn't expect to see you here," Daisuke spoke hurriedly as he joined us at the table. "I have a fifteen-minute break before I have to go to work. Welcome back to the land of the living, Issei." He had an energy drink and a cup of water with him.
"How did you revive me?" I asked, taking a bite that Aikawa offered me. Afterward, I lifted up my miso soup and took a sip.
Daisuke explained, "We used a basic serum called A4 to bring dead people back to life as members of SUITS. However, I had to add a few special mixtures in order to revive you." He added, "You have a unique type of revival, just like the three of us sitting at this table." Taking a sip from his energy drink, he continued, "During your time at the atrium, you might not have been aware of this, but there is a difference between regular SUITS members and special operatives. Regular individuals follow standard directives while those who are considered special are part of the Specialized Unit Investigation Tactics and Surveillance (SUITS) team."
"Why are Asuka and Aikawa considered special?" I asked, brimming with curiosity.
Daisuke unscrewed his water bottle. "Watch," he said, gesturing towards Aikawa who placed a bowl and chopsticks on the table. I watched in astonishment as Aikawa manipulated the water, creating a bubble out of it. He then returned the water to the bottle and continued feeding me.
"Aikawa is capable of manipulating water," Daisuke explained.
"And I have the ability to manipulate wind," Asuka added, raising her hand with her palm open. A small tornado appeared over her palm before vanishing instantly.
"That's amazing! What about me?" I eagerly inquired.
"Now comes the exciting part," Daisuke replied. "We don't know yet, so I'm here to deliver a message from Master Shiro. You are supposed to meet him after you finish eating. Asuka, once you are done here, I have a mission for you.” Daisuke took a sip from his water bottle. "It's time to start working now. See you later.” He abruptly stood up.
“What about my right arm?” I asked. 
“I’m working on that right now.” He answered. “I’ll give it to you after you meet with Master Shiro.” Daisuke walked away after that.
"I know he always seems rushed, Asuka," I mumbled with my mouth full of food, "but his face looks incredibly exhausted. I'm surprised he hasn't collapsed from consuming all those energy drinks."
"Well," Asuka answered, "he has been working for the past five days reviving you, Issei.”
I had the opportunity to learn about the real life of Daisuke Modegi. Daisuke Modegi was born in 1850 as a member of the Satsuma clan. He left his samurai lifestyle at a young age under his father's guidance. He witnessed the end of the Tokugawa Shogunate and the beginning of the Meiji Restoration. In 1868, Daisuke took part in the Satsuma Rebellion against the newly established Imperial Japanese Army, during which he was wounded and captured in battle. In 1873, Daisuke joined the Imperial military and participated in the Battle of Shiroyama in 1877, which marked as the final battle of the Satsuma Rebellion. Unfortunately, he succumbed to his wounds after successfully suppressing any remaining rebellion forces.
Auks left our side as soon as we entered the atrium. I was astonished by how vast and spacious it was, exceeding my expectations for an underground facility. Aikawa guided me to another area where the constant movement of people caught my attention - every spot was occupied.
"Welcome to SUITs East Asia's Sector Facility," Aikawa greeted me. "This is just one of many facilities hidden beneath Earth's surface."
"There's more than just this?" I exclaimed.
"You're mistaken if you think there's only one facility," Aikawa chuckled. "Each facility is interconnected, so you'll eventually see the others. Don't worry though, they all look the same." He continued, "Since Master Shiro didn't give you a full tour, I will explain. We have different divisions in the Sector Facilities like Medical/Science Division, Defense Division, Front Line Division, and the newly established Assassination Division."
"Since there are multiple Sector Facilities, does SUITS have a main headquarters?" I inquired.
"Yes, the sector facilities are concealed deep within Earth's Mantle while the main headquarters is hidden in Earth's Inner Core," Aikawa explained. "You will eventually visit there. The main headquarters address issues beyond those of just Earth."
"More issues?" I asked curiously.
"The sector facilities handle problems within their respective sectors like high-value targets operating on Earth's surface," replied Asuka. "The Main Installation deals with extraterrestrial beings such as Raquel Gustov - also known as 'the red lady' - and Master Shiro who are far more complex challenges."
"Master Shiro is a problem?" I questioned.
"He hails not from Earth, yet he played a crucial role in the development of SUITS during a time when Earth had attained enough stability to establish facilities.
"Is he an ally?"
"Yes, indeed an ally. However, he does not adhere to the rules governing SUITS. He is what what we humans  refers to as an independent contractor, much like master Shiro." Aikawa explained. "In any case, gathering this amount of information has been quite overwhelming for me, so I won't delve further into it." Truly fascinating indeed.
Aikawa made his way down the hallway leading to the training sub sector of the Front Line Division. We passed by numerous rooms occupied by combat soldiers and elementalists. Eventually, we arrived at a room where Master Shiro was present, accompanied by another individual. Peering through the transparent window, I realized that it wasn't just him but someone else standing next to him. Asuka opened the door, and we entered.
"Ah, you're finally here, Kobayashi," Shiro spoke. "I invited an officer to join us."
"What do you mean?" I asked as I noticed an officer in uniform stepping forward. 
"Let me introduce myself," she said. "My name is Anita Patel from the South Asia Sector." Suddenly, a gust of wind brushed past my left shoulder followed by something striking against the wall behind me. The object not only missed my left shoulder but also grazed my cheek, causing a small wound that started bleeding slightly. Anita continued speaking: "I'm here to be your partner."
Another rush of wind passed by as Anita's weapon returned to her hand while another weapon materialized in her empty hand. Glancing at Aikawa beside me, I saw that he had vanished from sight too as well as Master Shiro.
From above came Master Shiro's voice echoing throughout the room: "I know you've just awakened from slumber, but we must first determine your element." Anita will take it easy on you."
Once again, Anita hurled her weapon at me with astonishing speed. Reacting quickly, I instinctively snatched it from the air with my left hand—a surprising feat considering how recently I had awakened from sleep mode and regained my fast reflexes. However, in that split second, Anita materialized behind me effortlessly retrieved her weapon from my loose grip as it returned to her possession. Glancing at both weapons for a moment, I noticed they were chakrams—circular weapons with sharp outer edges measuring between 12-30 cm in diameter.
Anita Patel was born during the decline of the Gupta Empire in 450, when Skandagupta ruled as the emperor. Throughout her life, she witnessed several leaders vying for Skandagupta's throne. Tragically, Anita met her untimely demise in 497 at the hands of the Alchon Huns while they were carrying out their incursions across the Indian countryside during Narasimhagupta's reign as Gupta ruler.
Reacting on pure instinct once more as she lunged towards me again, I flung myself forward in an attempt to evade her grasp. In the process of breaking my fall, my dominant hand reached out to catch myself but then realized it was no longer there. Landing forcefully on my chest and rolling several times, I eventually mustered the strength to push myself back onto my feet by relying solely on the power of my left hand.
I was fast, but she proved to be even faster than me. As I skillfully evaded her attacks and even managed to surprise her with some light counterattacks, it became clear that my strikes weren't causing any harm. Desperately trying to escape, I found myself running out of space when she unexpectedly hurled her weapon at me like a submarine pitch. Realizing the imminent danger, I quickly planted my dominant right foot on the wall and launched myself off using my non-dominant leg. Utilizing the momentum, I propelled off the wall and executed a flip just in time to avoid being hit as the weapon collided with the wall behind me.  However, I never anticipated seeing Anita's fist appear in view and landing a successful punch on my face, causing me to spin in multiple directions before crashing onto the ground. For a few seconds, I rolled around in pain as my vision gradually returned.
As I struggled to regain my footing, her weapon returned to her and patiently awaited my recovery. It took some time, but eventually I managed to get back on my feet. However, she wasted no time in launching another attack, catching me off guard with a series of unexpected combinations. In response, I bravely retaliated and attempted to strike back whenever she came within reach. Swiftly sliding underneath her weapon swing, I quickly regained my stance. 
Instead of hesitating, Anita remained determined as I turned to face her once more. Suddenly, she threw her weapon at me with precision, causing it to bounce beneath me and briefly diverting my attention from the ongoing fight. Seizing this split-second distraction, she landed a powerful right straight punch directly on my face.
The impact sent me staggering backwards as she continued relentlessly with various combination. In the second round, I managed to adapt from my previous mistakes and learned to dodge and defend myself more effectively. Despite catching up to her speed, she elevated it even further which made it increasingly difficult for me to track her movements. Her strikes were much more precise and forceful than before; my reaction time was sluggish and frustration began creeping in.
I focused on understanding her perspective, evading some of her attacks successfully while others managed to breach my defense by sheer luck. I stumbled and found myself backed into a corner once again. As Anita suddenly materialized in front of me, brandishing her weapon, she swiftly unleashed a boxing straight towards my face. With little room to maneuver, I stepped forward and slid beneath her strike, only to be caught off guard by another one of Anita's attacks that sent me hurtling forward.
As I came to an abrupt stop, a wave of excruciating pain coursed through my entire body. I forced myself to lie on my back and stared up at the ceiling. Suddenly, Anita materialized above me, descending towards me with her weapons poised. Acting swiftly, I rolled away just in the nick of time to avoid being struck by her as she crashed onto the ground. Struggling to regain my composure, I unsteadily rose to my feet only for Anita to reappear behind me.
With my dominant foot planted firmly on the ground and shifting my weight to the right, I summoned enough strength and momentum to deliver a punch with my non-dominant fist aimed at her face. She retaliated fiercely as our fists collided in an intense exchange of blows. The impact caused a loud shockwave that reverberated throughout the room, creating a small crater beneath us. Her counterattack launched me across the room, slamming into the opposite corner. In that clash, Anita emerged victorious.
As I struggled to maintain my balance, my vision became increasingly blurry. Leaning against the wall for support, I desperately tried to restore clarity to my sight. Suddenly, a figure materialized before me - it was Anita, brandishing her weapon and preparing to strike. Although I couldn't react swiftly enough, an unexpected surge of power compelled me to catch her weapon with my bare hands.
What astonished me was the fire that enveloped my hand, firmly grasping the weapon. Surprisingly, there was no sensation of burning; instead, there was an inexplicable sense of tranquility and beauty emanating from the fire. With a flick of my wrist, I cast the weapon aside as the flames spontaneously extinguished themselves. Anita retrieved her weapon and affixed it securely onto her belt.
"Birth of Fire," breathed Anita heavily.
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divinelement00 · 2 years
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How come I'm not getting AOL mail anymore?
There was a time when AOL was universally regarded as the premier ISP. There were no issues with AOL's email services. This means that issues with email and desktop software were extremely unusual.
As soon as an issue was reported, the AOL mail team would do anything they could to get things working again.
However, AOL was not able to keep its monopoly for very long. Because of this, AOL email subscribers have started having issues of varying severity.
This "AOL email not received" problem is one of those vexing ones. When a person accesses their inbox, only messages from the past will be displayed.
IOS DEVICES USING AOL MAIL DO NOT RECEIVE EMAILS
Before doing anything else, check to see if your internet is actually connected. You can move on to the following section if you have a reliable internet connection.
My AOL Email Stops Updating—What Gives?
Whenever spambots are in the process of filtering emails, AOL subscribers typically do not get fresh ones. The following conditions may be at play here.
The recipient of your AOL emails has been changed.
Problems connecting to the internet.
The address used is not one that can receive mail.
There is currently an outage of AOL services in your location.
The IMAP/pop configuration is wrong.
Incorrect settings for automatic synchronization.
What Can I Do If My AOL Mail Isn't Working?
Take Away All Email Filters Currently In Use
When fresh messages stop appearing in your AOL inbox. The mail filters should be removed from the account settings.
Almost certainly, the account has a filter set up. This prevents any new messages from being sent to the account. Go to your iPad's or iPhone's "Settings" menu.
To send an email, select the "Mail" tab.
Just hit the "Accounts" tab immediately.
Just hit the AOL key on your keyboard.
Enable data retrieval by activating the "Auto fetch" setting.
Get to your inbox by closing the settings. See if mail is being received by the program. Turn off "Auto retrieve data" if you're still having issues with your iPhone's email account after trying the previous troubleshooting steps. Once you've verified your email settings, add it again. You can reset your account by following these instructions.
Go to your account's "Mail" settings by going to "Settings."
Choose "AOL Mail Account" from the list of accounts by tapping the "Accounts" button.
To cancel your account, select the corresponding button.
You should now restart your iOS device.
Navigate back to the preferences and then to the inbox.
Pick the "Add Account" tab.
Create an AOL account by entering your desired email address and password.
Simply hit the "Finish" button.
You may have checked your mailbox recently and discovered that AOL Mail is malfunctioning once again. That's okay, you have plenty of company. In fact, you're not alone; thousands of other AOL customers face the same problems every day.
When the Internet first became widely available to the public in the early 1990s, America Online (AOL) was one of the first companies to capitalize on the opportunity. AOL Mail, their email program, was one of the first of its kind when it was released in 1993.
Anyone of a certain age is likely to have a warm and fuzzy memory of their renowned "You've got mail!" tagline.
While it's true that "old" often denotes trustworthiness, it's also true that even the most tried-and-true software has its quirks, especially after years of updates. So, let's take a look at some of the more typical issues with AOL Mail and how to fix them.
Reasons Your AOL Service Might Break
There are certain problems that are inherently associated with webmail applications, and if you can solve those, you may be able to get AOL Mail working again. To name a few of the most typical:
Low Quality of Internet
For obvious reasons, you should always double-check your network connection before trying to send or receive emails. Finding out if the issue is with AOL Mail or the Internet, in general, can be done by visiting alternative websites and running your operating system's diagnostics checks.
Incompatible web browser or OS
In spite of their monotony, software updates are essential to ensuring the continued functionality of programs. An increasing number of browser and OS updates can cause incompatibilities with third-party software.
Downtime of Email Servers
It doesn't matter how stable your Internet connection is; an email system is only as reliable as the mail server that hosts it. Although AOL Mail server downtime is not particularly common, it does occur on occasion, often due to routine maintenance.
Due to Incorrect Email Account Settings
Like every webmail program, AOL Mail has its own set of configuration options for each mail account. Account settings errors, like a mistype or an SMTP port error, may cause an issue in connectivity between your inbox and the email service.
For solving AOL mail not arriving problems
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irvinenewshq · 2 years
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Black Adam Cinematographer Talks Filming Put up-Credit Scene
Picture: Warner Bros./DC Comics Black Adam is out this weekend, and as is commonly the case with superhero films, its post-credits scene teases some attention-grabbing potentialities for the way forward for the DC film universe. Chances are high you already know what it’s (both by simply seeing the movie or numerous different means), however simply in case: don’t learn this if you happen to haven’t really seen the movie and wish to be shocked. Now then… So sure, Henry Cavill’s Superman is again in motion, as beforehand reported. Rocking a model of his Man of Metal go well with and with slightly curl on his brow, Superman exhibits up in Kahndaq telling Black Adam (Dwayne Johnson) that they should have a chat now that the latter has smugly declared that nobody on the planet is able to going on-one-on towards him. Johnson was beforehand mentioned to have fought onerous for that scene to occur—so onerous that when then-head of DC Movies Walter Hamada mentioned “no,” the wrestler/actor went over him to get it authorized—and a current story from the Hollywood Reporter actually underlines how near the wire it was. Adam’s cinematographer Lawrence Sher advised THR that director Jaume Collet-Serra basically pitched the scene to him as “one thing for Dwayne to stroll into … And we’re going to shoot it in like 10 minutes.” Johnson’s half of the scene was shot on the ultimate day of reshoots, with the group doing the Superman half through a physique double and a model of John Williams’ traditional Superman theme they discovered on Google. Just like the post-credits scene for Shazam, solely Superman’s emblem was proven on the possibility that issues wouldn’t work out. Watching it play out was “really goosebumps,” mentioned Sher. “I assumed, ‘Wow, that is 100% going to work. Now they want to determine if they’ll get the man with the top to be there.’” Check screenings for Black Adam went nuts after they noticed mentioned scene, which made securing Cavill much more of an crucial. As soon as Johnson received that authorized, Cavill needed to movie his half in London only a month in the past, the place he was presumably filming the third season of The Witcher. For that, Sher needed to movie remotely, since he couldn’t journey to the UK. Of seeing Cavill carry out the scene, he mentioned: “There are particular individuals which are iconic because the characters that they play, and he’s actually one in every of them.” G/O Media could get a fee Black Adam is in theaters now. Need extra io9 information? Try when to anticipate the newest Marvel and Star Wars releases, what’s subsequent for the DC Universe on movie and TV, and all the pieces you’ll want to learn about Home of the Dragon and Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Energy. Originally published at Irvine News HQ
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victorluvsalice · 5 years
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It’s Day 7 of Emmett and Nikal’s (still captionless) Newcrest Adventures, and we’re wrapping things up on their end with another holiday -- Harvestfest! Yes, it may only be the beginning of November around here, but in my game, seasons are only one week, so they’ve already come up on Sim!Thanksgiving. Which means food (like freshly-brewed tea), fun (like washing dishes next to your pooping husband) --
AND GNOMES. We all remember the trouble I’ve had with these little buggers, don’t we? Fortunately, they weren’t quite such a problem this time. Emmett looked like he was keeping the “upset the gnomes and suffer for it all holiday long” streak alive when he angered the ghostly gnome with pie, but -- well, turns out the ghostly gnome is a bit more chill (ha) than some of his brethren. One quick pleading, and Emmett was forgiven for his trespasses. Which is good, as I didn’t feel like fixing everything on the lot, even if Nikal DOES have Repairio!
To be fair, though, maybe the gnome looked at Einstein and thought they had enough to deal with at the moment -- yeah, our dog woke up sick again. Bad case of swamp mouth, poor thing. Fortunately, I’d previously stocked up on wellness treats, so it didn’t take long to cure him. Just in time for the gnomes to invade the bathroom when Nikal wanted a shower! -.- Will an offering of a toy police car get them to go away?
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cloudteawrites · 4 years
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chapter: six ( 15.5k ) rating: mature (death, past abuse, eventual smut) genre: mystery | romance | hurt/comfort tags: bts x reader | ot7 x reader | hybrid | poly summary: when an estranged uncle leaves you his massive fortune you wonder if the universe is playing a joke on you. when that fortune comes with seven hybrids, you know for sure that it is. << first < previous | next > last >>
what is hybrid marking
8.2 million results. 
While scent mixing (heretofore referred to as ‘scenting’) is temporary and lasts a maximum of twelve hours if left undisturbed, scent marking (‘marking’ in common parlance) is semi-permanent. A ‘mark’ is created when the pheromones present in a hybrid’s bodily fluids are applied directly to their markee’s skin. When said chemical compounds seep below the epidermis and bond to the sweat glands found within the dermal layer of the skin, the target has been officially ‘marked’. Between domesticated hybrids and their human caretakers, this is most commonly done by applying hybrid saliva to the skin of the neck, where a human’s scent tends to be strongest. While the behavior involved in marking resembles some aspects of human foreplay, it is a non-sexual expression of mutual trust and affection. It is important to note that most hybrids of age are able to mitigate the oral secretion of pheromones and cannot mark accidentally-
“How do I look?” 
The sound of Jimin’s voice makes you jump. You fumble with your phone, trying to exit out of the website, shove it in your pocket and look at the leopard hybrid’s outfit at the same time.
“You look great!” You tell him once the device is safely tucked away.
He rolls his eyes at you. “You’ve said that about everything I’ve shown you.”
You had, but only because it was true. No matter what the trio of hybrids tried on, they all looked great. You weren’t sure what it was, but seeing them in something other than neutral sweat suits made them look even better than they already had. You were discovering they all had unique senses of fashion too. Taehyung preferred earth tones, soft fabrics and slouchy cardigans, Yoongi tended toward plaid overshirts and dark denim and Jimin had just come out of the dressing room in his sixth button down and second pair of chelsea boots. 
When the four of you had arrived at the mall that afternoon, you’d told them to go wild and call you when they were ready to check out. There was an entire section of the shopping center that catered specifically to hybrids and you were certain they’d be able to find everything they needed and more. You’d been all set to sequester yourself in a booth in the food court and indulge your hybrid research habit, but Taehyung had fixed you with a forlorn look the moment you tried to part with them and Jimin had insisted that you personally review every piece of clothing he put on. You wouldn’t deny that you were having fun, but surreptitiously trying to google what every little thing they did meant without getting caught was getting harder and harder. 
Jimin breezes past you to the semi-circle of mirrors on the far end of the fitting rooms, brushing his tail against your shins as he passes. That was another thing that had changed. Since the talk you’d had with the boys last night, it seemed like they were always finding some excuse to touch you or brush up against you . You didn’t know if it was a manifestation of their cat genes or them just wanting physical reassurance that you were there, but it seemed like every time you turned around there was a tail curling around your calf or a nose tip against your ear or a shoulder brushing your own. You were practically wreathed in them. Even Yoongi hadn’t seemed to mind when your fingertips had brushed against each other at breakfast when you’d passed him the juice. You didn’t know if you should count that as progress, but you want to. 
You’re not entirely used to physical contact and nearly every time Taehyung rubs his cheek on the top of your head or Jimin reaches out to link your fingers together, you jump. It feels strange, to have people be so blatantly physically affectionate with you. It’s not like you dislike it, exactly, it’ll just take some getting used to. Whatever adjustments you need to make, you know you’ll need to make them quickly. You don’t think the hybrids will give up on friendly hugs just because you never initiate them first.  
“Y/N-ah,”Jimin calls, catching your attention. He’s twisting this way and that on the platform, trying to catch his reflection in every possible angle. He hums in disappointment as he turns back to the front, tail waving behind him. “This collar,” he says, tugging on the offending band of bright green plastic around his neck, “-is ruining my outfit. We’ll need to get real ones today.” 
You feel like a stone has settled in your stomach. Your shoulders sag, but if the leopard hybrid notices, he doesn’t say anything. “Yeah,” you reply. “Yeah, you’re right.” In truth, you’d hoped to put it off for a little while longer. Collaring and leashing a hybrid had always seemed odd to you. After all, weren’t they people too? The law was the law, you knew, but something about publicly and visibly marking someone as property...well, the morality of it was gray at best. The temporary collars had provided you with a stay from the inevitable, but there was no avoiding it any longer, you supposed. They’d have to get collars. 
“I saw a store for them a couple shops down,” Taehyung supplies as he steps out of his dressing room in a white linen shirt and cream drawstring pants. “We could go there?” 
“That works for me...Taehyung, one of your buttons is in the wrong hole.” 
The tiger hybrid squints down at his shirt, feels blindly for the hole he missed, but can’t seem to find it. 
“No,” you tell him. “Not that one, the other- do you just want me to fix it?”
He pauses and looks up at you for a solid three seconds before giving a single, slow nod. 
You come to stand in front of him and start undoing the buttons from the top. There’s only four of them but each one you pop open reveals more and more of his honey brown skin and prominent collar bones. Your fingers brush his skin accidentally and he chuffs happily, one hand resting on your lower back as you start buttoning him up again. Heat starts crawling up your neck unbidden. Even through the fabric of your t-shirt, you can feel the warmth of his palm, how long his fingers are. He presses you closer until your arms are nearly flat against your chest as you try to finish buttoning him up. It’s hard to move squished between the insistent pressure of his hand and the- surprisingly- hard line of his body, but you make do. “There!” You pat him gently on the chest as you finish the last button. “All done.”
He dips forward and rubs his cheek against your forehead, rumbling so deep in his chest that the vibrations pass into you. “Thank you.” He releases you and pulls away, but as he does, his lips brush against your hairline. You try not to read too deep into it. 
The tiger hybrid sidles over to his friend in the mirror, wrapping his arms around the smaller man’s waist and dipping his head into his neck. Jimin reaches back and scratches behind one of his ears and your heart swells in your chest. It was nice to see them be so openly affectionate with each other. They’re so close in a way you can’t even begin to understand. It’s beautiful. 
Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you thumb the screen to life. An incoming call from Mr. Seo. “You guys keep trying stuff on,” you tell the pair, already standing to make your way out of the dressing room. “I’ve gotta take this.”  They both call at you to hurry back and you give them a shout of assent as you rush away. 
The second you’re outside the store, you answer. “Hello?”
“Ms. L/N,” Mr. Seo’s voice crackles on the other end of the line. “I trust you’ve settled in well.” It isn’t a question and the tone of his voice makes it clear that he doesn’t wish to spend what precious time he has exchanging pleasantries with you. 
“Yeah, everything’s okay.” Everything had most certainly not been okay when you’d emergency dialed him two days ago about the tiger on your couch. The text he’d sent you back six hours later had told you to figure it out. You had and you knew you weren’t his responsibility, but him tossing you in the deep end was still a sore spot for you. 
“There’s been a change of plans.” 
You grimace. Straight to it, then. “What’s going on?” 
“Black Mountain Canines- the company your uncle purchased two of the hybrids from- changed their pick-up date. They want you to come get them in person today.”
“Pick-up?” You frown. “No, they were supposed to drop them off.”
“They were,” Mr. Seo confirms, “But it’s apparently no longer profitable for them to drive all the way into Seoul to hand-deliver two of their charges. They also claim they’re incurring additional expenses by feeding and housing two hybrids who’ve already been purchased, but we’ll see about that when we arrive.”
Your anxiety spikes and your fingers wrap tighter around your phone. You’d promised the boys a whole day out. All you’d done so far was get them phones of their own and furniture for their room. There was still so much to do, so much to see. “What about Yoongi and Jimin and Taehyung?” You blurt out.
Mr. Seo sighs and his breath crackles over the receiver. “Those are the cats, I assume? I suggest you let them know sooner rather than later that they’ll have to share their space.” There’s a flurry of movement on his end of the line, the sound of someone calling his name and papers shuffling. “I have to go; they need me to look over some case files.” He tells you. “I’ll be at Haneul Tower to pick you up in three hours. Be downstairs waiting.”And the line clicks off. 
You sigh and hang up. What were you going to tell the boys? Day one of your new friendship and you were already breaking promises. 
“Trouble?” Yoongi’s voice right behind you makes you flinch and whirl on him. His ears press back against his head and he takes a step back at your sudden movements. 
“Sorry!” You tell him, forcing your spine to relax. “Sorry, I didn’t notice you there; I thought you were still shopping. ”
“I can tell,” he snarks, but there’s no heat behind it. His eyes trace the line of your shoulders, still tense and flick to the phone in your hand. “I dropped my stuff at the register. What’s going on?”
You gnaw on the inside of your cheek, nerves making your stomach ache. “C’mon,” you tell him, walking back into the store. “Let’s pay and grab some lunch. I’ll tell you when we sit down.” He follows after you a few paces behind, trying not to let worry prick in him at the anxious shift in your scent. Something was about to change, he was sure, and not entirely for the better. 
Twenty minutes later, the four of you are sitting in the food court, a mess of shopping bags at your feet and a bowl of tteokbokki between you. Yoongi and Jimin had picked out all the fish cakes first and were bickering good-naturedly over who the last one should go to, but Taehyung seemed content to just gnaw at his rice cakes. You’d hardly touched anything, your eyes flicking back to the time on your phone. 1:20 P.M. Two hours and forty minutes ‘til Mr. Seo would be at your apartment to pick you up and bring you to get two more of the hybrids your uncle had bought. You push a rice cake around on your paper plate with the end of your chopstick. Well, no point delaying the inevitable. 
“Hey, guys?” You call softly. Three pairs of ears swivel toward you immediately. The words die in your throat and your tongue feels like lead as they look at you, all their eyes focused and expectant. You clear your throat and force yourself to continue. “So...you know how I…” You search for the right word, but there’s really no other way to say it. “...inherited you guys from my uncle?” 
Taehyung’s eyes flick toward Jimin and the leopard hybrid brushes his tail against the tiger’s. Silent communication you couldn’t even begin to decipher. “Yeah,” Yoongi says, tossing his chopsticks down and leaning back in his chair. “I told them.”
That was right. What you’d blurted out at Yoongi yesterday on the street you had yet to disclose to his juniors. “Thanks, Yoongi,” You tell him, meaning every word of it. He’d spared you from yet another uncomfortable conversation. 
“...For what it’s worth, we’re glad it’s you,” Taehyung tells you, his tail twining around your ankle under the table. He looks at his hyungs for confirmation and when neither of them deny it, he settles his amber gaze back on you. “We like being here with you, even if you didn’t pick us. It’s...It’s nice.”
You can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips at his words. He beams at you, his boxy smile soft despite the sharp incisors poking his bottom lip. “I like having you guys around, too,” you admit, taking the time to meet each of their eyes. Jimin purrs as you look at him, the corners of his mouth curling. When your gaze meets Yoongi’s, his ears twitch but he doesn’t look away. He doesn’t blink either, just holds your stare with an intensity that makes heat crawl up your neck. You suddenly remember the warm stretch of his body over your’s, the sensation of his lips against your neck. You snatch your eyes away and cough to cover your lapse in speech.  “It would’ve been scary, I think, if I had to deal with all this alone.” 
You couldn’t even imagine it.That clinically clean apartment with its blank white walls and its imposing emptiness would have driven you down until you couldn’t stand it anymore. You’d always had a little pit of loneliness inside you. You didn’t know how long it’d been there. Maybe it always had been, a seed of something sad and dark at the core of your soul. You’d done well keeping it contained. You felt it in your goshiwon, but your room was small. It couldn’t grow beyond your keeping. In Oliver’s penthouse, it would’ve had endless room to sprawl and with no one to clip it back, you would’ve choked to death on vines of doubt.
“There are others,” you tell them, before you can down spiral into the mire of your own thoughts. “He bought other hybrids before he died. They weren’t supposed to be coming until next week but their company wants me to come get them today.” 
The mood at the table shifts almost immediately. Taehyung’s ears and tail sag, Jimin’s smile goes sharp at the edges and Yoongi’s lip curls. “How many others?” He asks, crossing his arms over his chest. You notice he does that when he’s nervous or uncomfortable. It’s a defense mechanism, no matter how at ease it makes him seem. 
“Four,” you answer and the bobcat hybrid’s ears tilt back in irritation. “Two are coming home today and the other two toward the end of next week.” Jimin doesn’t say anything, but you see the tip of his tail flicking back and forth. He’s annoyed. Taehyung drops a hand onto the smaller hybrid’s back and rubs circles in it, trying to soothe him. 
“Maybe it’ll be okay?” The tiger hybrid offers. He’s trying his best to be diplomatic, but you hear the strain in the deep timbre of his voice. “Having other cats around again might be nice. We used to live with a lot back at the center…”
You wince. “...they’re canines.” Almost immediately, all of their ears go flat against their skulls and they hiss in unison. Yoongi stifles himself the quickest, setting a hand on Jimin’s knee and squeezing to get the leopard hybrid to get a hold of himself. 
“Hybrids of different species don’t play well together,” he explains. “Especially not when our animals are solitary in the wild. The only reason Jimin, Tae and I are able to stand sharing the same territory is because we’ve known each other since we were kids and we’ve had to do it before.”
Before? A question forms in the back of your mind, but now isn’t the time to ask it.
“We don’t like sharing what’s ours,” Jimin continues for his hyung, interlocking his fingers with yours on the plastic table top. “It’s instinctual.”
“I know, I know.” You squeeze his hand lightly, trying to reassure him. “But the apartment is big; can’t you avoid each other starting out?”
All three of them give you a strange look and Jimin’s lips curl in a way that isn’t quite a smile. “...right,” he purrs, a little delayed. “The apartment.”
You chew on the inside of your cheek, anxiety sinking its claws into you. “I’m really sorry to spring this on you guys, I know it’s not great, but…” Your shoulders sag. “I don’t want to have promised someone a home and rip the rug out from under them, you know?” You knew what that felt like. You wouldn’t wish that feeling on your worst enemy. “I’m just...I’m worried that they’re not being treated well.”
“They were up for sale,” Yoongi drawls. “They definitely aren’t.” 
The taxi ride back to Haneul Tower is uncomfortably quiet. Jimin still holds your hand and Taehyung still leans on your shoulder, but nobody says a word. You help them carry their bags upstairs and drop them off in the master bedroom. You’d told them they could have separate rooms if they wanted, but they’d insisted on sharing, so you thought it was only fair that they get the largest room in the penthouse. Clothes went onto hangars and into closets and before you knew it, there were only ten minutes until Mr. Seo’s arrival. 
“You don’t have to go,” Taehyung huffs. He’s got you wrapped in a bear- well, you suppose a tiger hug and his cheek is mashed against the top of your head. You don’t even think he’s actively scenting you at this point, just keeping you from leaving. “Send your assistant instead and stay here with us.”
You let out a puff of laughter and pat the hybrid on the back in a way you hope is soothing. “Mr. Seo isn’t my assistant, buddy, he’s my uncle’s attorney.” You give a little tug away from him and he lets you go, albeit with a sad little mrow that makes him sound just like a disappointed cat. “I couldn’t ask him to do that. The only reason he’s coming is because they broke the contract. And I can’t drive.” 
The look Taehyung gives you is so downtrodden that you toy with the idea of calling the whole day off and staying with them- but no. You can’t bail out now, especially not with what you’d put Mr. Seo through when the first group of hybrids were delivered. “I’ll be back before you know it,” You tell him with a steadfast smile. 
“You’d better,” Jimin says, nudging the taller hybrid out of the way. Taehyung gives a half-hearted growl, but settles as Yoongi squeezes his shoulder. “The longer you’re away, the longer you’ll have to sit in the stench of those mutts.”
You frown. “Jimin-”
“Only joking,” He soothes, bringing both of your hands up to his cheeks. You don’t believe him, but you don’t press it. The leopard hybrid nuzzles into your palms, purring happily at the feeling of your skin against his. Your palms nearly burn from how warm he is. You feel a warm puff of air against your fingers and tense as Jimin presses all ten of them against his lips. 
“Jimin.” Yoongi’s voice is hard, but his junior’s lips curl up in a satisfied smile, one of his incisors pricking at the pad of your index finger. 
“Hurry back,” he murmurs. You try not to shiver at the feeling of his plush lips moving against your oversensitive fingertips. 
“I’ll do my best!” You say,  a pained smile tugging your lips apart. He hums in response and drops your hands, his fingers trailing across yours as he lets you go. 
“Hyung,” he calls over his shoulder. “Is there anything you’d like to say to Y/N-ah?”
“Don’t let them scent you.” Is all Yoongi says as he breezes toward the stairs. “You know better now.” 
It’s as much as you were expecting. “I’ll see you guys later,” You tell them as you head out the door. “Finish setting your phones up and text me if you need anything!”
True to his word, Mr. Seo is parked out front at 4 o’clock on the dot. You haven’t seen him in a little over a week and you’d almost forgotten how imposing he was. He cuts a sharp figure against the backdrop of the bustling street, dressed in all black and leaning against a brand new Buick Enclave. The poor valet stationed at the front door looks like he’s been trying to work up the courage to ask to park his car for the past twenty minutes and sags in relief as you start heading over.
The lawyer dips his head in acknowledgement at you and checks his watch. “Miracle of miracles,” he says, popping open the passenger side door for you. “You’re on time.”
“I was late one time,” you huff, sliding past him and into your seat.
“And that was enough,” he snips back, closing your door before you can come up with a retort. You grumble to yourself, but don’t press him. You know he’s right. He’d gone out of his way to help you and you’d put him out. 
“I’m sorry,” you tell him as he settles into his seat and reaches for his seatbelt. “It won’t happen again; I know you’ve got other things to do.”
He stills and looks at you over the gold frames of his glasses. For a long moment he holds your gaze, unblinking. You gnaw on the inside of your cheek. Had you done something wrong? 
Finally Mr. Seo blinks and finishes buckling himself in. “I apologize for staring, I wasn’t sure if I’d heard you correctly.” He push starts his car and pulls away from the curb. “I never thought I’d see the day a L/N would apologize to me.” He edges the car into the steady stream of Seoul traffic and you’re off, zooming toward the freeway.
Silence fills the car again, but as Mr. Seo takes on-ramp, you work up the courage to ask your question. “Did Oliver never apologize to you?”
Mr. Seo snorts and it’s such an undignified sound that you almost can’t believe it comes from him. “You could tell your uncle the sky was blue and he’d argue that it was red until he was. And your grandfather-” He seems to catch himself, reigning back whatever meager bits of his personality had managed to slip through the cracks in his normally flawless veneer. You’re all ears.
Up until a week and a half ago, you hadn’t known you had any family, much less an uncle who owned buildings and bugattis. Now you were finding out that you had a grandfather too. “What about my grandfather?” The word feels strange in your mouth. It’d been years since you’d followed the word ‘my’ up with any type of familial relation. 
Mr. Seo cuts his eyes at you, and flicks them back to the front. “Nothing,” he replies, clearly done talking about him. “I spoke out of turn.” He reaches forward and turns on the radio, the sound of national news filling the silence.
You pout and slouch in your seat, disappointment setting in as the promise of new information slipped out of your grasp.
The rest of the drive is easy. Mr. Seo takes the highway out of Seoul and up into the foothills but you’re asleep before he even finds the exit. You’d slept more in the past two days than you had in the previous three weeks, but it seemed like years of bad habits were catching up to you.
Last night, you’d passed out halfway through the second movie snuggled up between Jimin and Taehyung. They’d been so warm and soft and the quiet thrumming of their heartbeats had lulled you to sleep before you knew what was happening.You’d woken up with them still curled around you and -maybe most surprising of all- Yoongi plating breakfast in the kitchen.
Still, it seemed even twelve hours of the best sleep you’d gotten in years and a peaceful morning devoid of stress -for the most part- hadn’t been enough.
You wake up just as the asphalt transitions into gravel, the sound of it crunching under the tires and the car’s shaking waking you up. You’re bleary-eyed and confused, but a sign up ahead snaps you to wakefulness. Standing like a guardian over a chain link fence topped with barbed wire is a metal sign, imposing as it is tall: Black Mountain K-9s, written in stark font.
“We’re here,” Mr. Seo says, as if it’s not obvious. He kills the engine and without its purring to distract you, you feel nerves starting to boil in your belly. What kind of place was this? You half expect sinister organ music to kick on and lightning to start flashing from black clouds. Neither of those things happen, though. The sky remains startlingly clear and the only things you can pick up are the sounds of whistles being blown, dozens of people doing call and response, and one voice, louder than all the others screaming for people to ‘Run faster! Get those knees up!’
You pop the door and step out of the car before Mr. Seo can open it for you and head around to the nose of the car, taking in the compound. 
“This facility produces some of the highest caliber bodyguards in the country,” He says, coming to stand beside you. The attorney rebuttons his suit jacket and flicks his sleeves up before settling his arms over his chest. “Politicians, celebrities, even a few former presidents all have hybrids from this training center.”
“It looks more like a prison,” You remark, nodding toward the barbed wire. “First big cat hybrids, now this...Why didn’t Oliver just get regular pets if he was lonely? Was he worried someone was after him?” 
“Anything I can tell you would be pure speculation,” He replies, walking away from you and heading for the callbox. “Your uncle very rarely confided in me.”
“But you were his attorney.” 
For just a second, the tight grip Mr. Seo has on his composure slips. His lips press together and his shoulders sag- but just as quickly as it’d lapsed, his mask is in place again. “Yes,” he says after a beat. “I was.” And he presses the button on the call box before you can pester him with any more questions about the dead men he’d known.
The call box crackles to life, speakers squealing with feedback. You flinch and slap your hands over your ears to protect them from the splitting sound. Mr. Seo doesn’t react at all and you’re stunned, wondering how he can stand it.
“Seo Seunghan and Y/N L/N for Lim Hangyeol.” 
The person on the other end doesn’t respond. The speaker cuts and a second later, the metal gate before you starts rolling to the side, pushed by invisible hands. It’s like a curtain going up at the theater. 
Before you lies a wide, dusty yard, devoid of any plant life. The thick-trunked trees and lush grasses of the surrounding mountainside had been stripped down to the roots here. All that remains are a few weeds poking out around the base of the long metal buildings that ring the fence, and even those seem like an intrusion. People are making use of the space in whatever way they can. A group of people with matching cropped black ears and docked tails run past you in four straight lines, all perfectly in step with each other. Over to your right, there’s a pack of teenagers working in pairs to scale a ten-foot tall sheer wooden wall and in the center of the field, twenty kids are running through taekwondo forms, supervised by a widely smiling instructor.
You’re in awe of it all. Every single person is like a cog in a well-oiled machine, all in the same black tactical pants and compression shirt. You’d never seen so many hybrids in one place before and certainly not all of the same breed.
Mr. Seo places a hand in the center of your back, steering you away from staring and toward a squat cement building.You let him lead you.
“When we get inside,” the lawyer begins, his voice quieter than you’ve ever heard it. “Let me speak first. If we can get him to admit to breaching the contract right away, it’ll be much easier to get him to agree to a settlement.”
You frown at that. “Why would we settle?” You ask him. “It’s not like I need the money.”
“It’s a matter of principle, Ms. L/N.” He sighs, pulling open the heavy metal door and ushering you into the building. “He did something wrong, and it’s most easy for him to bear the brunt of atonement financially. Without requiring damages be paid for breaches, contract law would collapse.” 
“Can’t you just have him apologize?”
Mr. Seo’s mouth twists up like he’s just tasted something unpleasant. “As you attorney, it is my duty to advise you against accepting restitution in the form of an apology. You’ll get a reputation for being a pushover.” 
You wanted to be anything but. “Alright, alright,” you concede, “Do whatever you think is best.”
The building you’ve ducked into seems to be an office. Along one wall are a set of metal folding chairs doing their best impression of a waiting room. Along the other is a metal door covered in peeling paint and one suspicious dent bearing a plaque that reads ‘DIRECTOR LIM’. Set between you and it is a desk covered in a mess of paperwork. An old desktop stands among it like an island in the ocean and middle aged hybrid woman in coke bottle glasses is hunched before it, tapping away at the keyboard at a mind-boggling speed. One of her ears twitches as the pair of you approach. 
“Take a seat,” she orders in a reedy voice, not bothering to look up from her work. “The Director will be with you shortly.”
“Send them in, Eunjung!” Someone shouts from behind the metal door  just as she’s finished. She doesn’t look up or stop typing or even acknowledge you two again. Mr. Seo takes it upon himself to breeze past her desk and open the door for you. 
The office is militaristically organized, all right angles and bare metal surfaces. There’s a black leather couch that’d seen better days to your left as you enter, a half empty water cooler to your right. Bookshelves lined with trophies and textbooks dominate the western wall. You scan the titles as you pass: Predatory Instinct: The Teaching and Training Canines, The Utility of Force, On Raising Hybrids, The Art of War, all dangerous and daunting as the man they belonged to.
Lim Hangyeol is the most grizzled man you’ve ever seen and the only other human besides yourself and Mr. Seo in the compound, it seems. He looks like a drill sergeant from an old action movie, his salt and pepper hair buzzed short and his face craggy with frown lines. There’s a semicircle of pockmark scars marring the skin of his right cheek and as you get closer, you realize they’re teeth marks. You shoot a concerned look to Mr. Seo, but he’s more focused on giving the director a shallow bow than allaying any of your fears. 
“Director,” He says, straightening back up. “Thank you for having us-”
“Spare me the bullshit,” The older man orders, kicking back his office chair and sinking back into it. “Take a seat. Let’s talk business.” 
A cold smile settles on your attorney’s lips and you see a cord twitching in his jaw, but he merely nods and replies in a breezy voice, “Of course.” 
The two of you do as you told, settling into two metal chairs in front of his desk. These ones are nicer than the folding ones in the waiting room, but no more comfortable. You try to slide yours forward only to find that it’s bolted to the floor. 
“Stops the dogs from throwin’ em when they get bad news,” Director Lim tells you as you uselessly tug at the legs. “Got tired of replacing windows.”
You grimace. If the awards on the bookshelf, what Mr. Seo had told you and the dozens of hybrids running boot camp drills outside were any indication, the man before you must’ve had some idea what he was doing. You didn’t end up providing security for high profile public figures without a smidge of credibility, you knew, but the bite marks on his cheek, the little crack about people throwing chairs at him and the way he’d referred to them as ‘dogs’ didn’t inspire confidence in you. 
This was your first time visiting a place that produced hybrids, you realized. You’d never even been into a shelter before and certainly not a breeding center. Were they all like this? Devoid of anything soft or comforting, rigid with rules and regulations? Had Yoongi, Jimin and Taehyung come from a place like this? You don’t know and you’re not sure you’d like the answer if you did. 
“Thank you for agreeing to meet with us on such short notice,” Mr. Seo starts, popping open the hinges on his briefcase and pulling out a few sheaves of paper. “After the sudden cancellation of your company’s contract with Ms. L/N, I was concerned for the state of our business relationship.” He slides one of the packets across the desk to the director. 
“If I remember correctly,” Director Lim says, scanning the lines of ink and unintelligible legalese, “Me and your boss signed for delivery, not me and whoever this little girl is you brought.” 
Your eyes narrow and your lips curl, but before you can give voice to the nasty thing crawling up your throat, Mr. Seo gives a subtle shake of his head and taps you twice on the knee, out of eyeshot of the director. You grumble, but cage it behind your teeth. 
“See?” The man jabs one gnarled finger at the page, right over your late uncle’s flourishing signature. “It says it right there: L/N Oliver. Last I checked, he was dead. I’m not holding on to a dead man’s dogs. ”
That same muscle tenses in Mr. Seo’s jaw. “The contract states that Black Mountain Canines would deliver the hybrids my client purchased to his residence on December the eighteenth and that they would be received by a proxy if he was unavailable. You were made aware of the fact that he was unavailable, as well as the fact that he now has a proxy-
“I’ll pay the goddamn fine!” The Director barks, throwing his hands up in the air. “Christ above, I don’t know why he wanted those two fuck-ups in the first place, but I don’t want them on my property a second longer.” 
You shoot Mr. Seo a look of confusion, but he just watches, blasé, as the Director rifles through his desk drawers. The man finds what he’s looking for and drops two manila folders on top of the contract. “The pair of them are useless. If it weren’t for my reputation, I’d’ve had them both sent to shelters years ago. Or put down, but you know how touchy the law is about that.”
“I don’t.” You say, your voice edging dangerously close to a snarl. It slips out before you can stop it. Mr. Seo shoots you a warning look and you ball your fists up in your sweater sleeves, fingernails biting crescent moons into your palms with the effort of keeping your mouth shut. 
You can’t stand this man, you decide. He’s awful. You should’ve known that from the moment you saw elementary school aged hybrids stumbling through taekwondo drills with their ears taped and bandages on their tails. You’re going to take whatever hybrids Oliver bought, get them the fuck out of there and never look back. 
If Director Lim had heard you growl at him, he gives no sign of it, just flips open the folders. “To be honest, I should be paying you to take them off my hands. They’ve been nothing but a pain in my ass since they aged out of training. I told your uncle he could have his pick of the litter for what he was paying, but he wanted a wide-eyed buffoon and a mutt who’d rip your hand off soon as look at you.” Clipped to the insides are photos of two men, staring back at you in black and white. 
One has the same black and tan cropped ears as every other hybrid you’ve seen thus far. Unlike them, he’s smiling. His eyes are little upturned crescent moons and he beams at you through the photo paper. There’s so much light in his face it’s nearly blinding. 
The other is not nearly as inviting. The photo is taken at an odd angle and it’s blurry at the edges, like whoever took it was much shorter than the subject and had to zoom in to even get the shot. His ears, larger than any of the other hybrids and longer furred, are pinned back against his head. His jaw is clenched and he glowers down into the lens, one eye soot black and the other piercing blue. 
There are stats listed on the pages behind their photos: height, weight, shot records and the like. Among them, you see their call signs, highlighted in yellow: Hope and Monster. 
“I don’t know where I went wrong with him,” the director says, tapping Hope’s photo. “He went through all the training, passed all the tests, but when it comes down to it, he just doesn’t have the instinct.” He gives a single shake of his head, clicks the tip of his tongue against his teeth. “No one wants a guard dog that’d sooner talk an intruder’s ear off than actually guard what he’s supposed to. He’s not good for much but nannying the pups, but he’s too soft on them too.”
A light bulb clicks on and you realize the hybrid in question had been the one instructing the kids outside in the center of the yard, his tail wagging a mile a minute as they completed another form correctly.
“Now this bastard…” the director continues, jamming a finger onto the second photo with so much force, it rattled the cup of pens on his desk. “Is my biggest failure.” He crosses his arms and kicks back in his chair, his dislike of the hybrid in question obvious. “His mother was the cornerstone of this facility for nearly a decade. I sold her pups to assemblymen and actors alike. Centers around the country wanted pups with her genetics. If it weren’t for her, we’d never have grown to this size.” He sounds wistful as he spreads his hands out, gesturing around himself like a king taking in his holdings. “But all good things come to an end,” He sighs. “A pack of wild hybrids settled a little higher up on the mountain.” His face darkens and his lips twist. “Wolves,” he snarls with all the disdain he can muster. 
“All that about them being noble and self-sacrificing? Complete and utter bullshit,” He scoffs. “They’re transient lowlifes who’d slit your throat as soon as look at you. At first I didn’t care. They stayed on their side of the mountain and I stayed on mine, but then they started sneaking down here at night to steal my food and fuck my dogs. By the time I managed to get the cops out here, they’d cleared out and my top breeder had gone with them.”
He let out a low chuckle and shook his head. “I tell you, I thought I was ruined. But wouldn’t you know it, she came stumbling back here six months later, barefoot and howling to be let in and heavy with some wild thing’s pup.” Director Lim snaps both the folders shut and slides them to you across the desk. “The thing about breeding hybrids is, the money’s all in the bloodlines. No one wants a dog with mystery genetics. The only way to solve that problem is to cut it off at the root- but it was already too late by the time she got here.” 
You feel sick to your stomach. You hope he isn’t implying what you think he is- that hybrid children he hadn’t planned out himself were mistakes in need of correction- but you know he is. Deep in your gut you know.
“And she spoiled him. She let him run roughshod over everyone and everybody in this compound. I tried telling her wild hybrids need a firmer hand- he certainly did if we were gonna break that wolf he’s got inside him, but she wouldn’t hear it. I tried to crop him with the other pups his age, he gave me these,” he said, gesturing to the teeth marks in his cheeks. “We keep him shut up away from the others, now, in the back when he can’t bother anyone. He gets his meals delivered but we don’t ever let him out.” The grizzled man shakes his head. “A drain on resources is what he is.”
“And his mother?” You ask, quietly. 
“Eunjung?” he questions. “You met her on the way in.” The director stands and unclips a ring of keys from his belt buckle, making his way around the desk and gesturing for you and Mr. Seo to follow. “I’ve got her doing desk work now. Gotta keep her close so she doesn’t cause any more trouble.” He pushes open the door to his office, barks something at his secretary and steps outside, not looking back to see if you two are following. 
You shoot Mr. Seo a look before you stand and he meets it, evenly. “We’ll discuss this in the car,” he says, stuffing papers back into his briefcase and flicking the clasps shut. Oh, you most certainly will discuss ‘it’ in the car. 
You don’t really know what it is or where to even begin. The kids with bandaged ears? The fact that Director Lim seemingly decided who was allowed to see the sun and who wasn’t? You think back to the conversation you’d had with Jimin, Taehyung and Yoongi last night. Right now, it seems years away, in some unreachable, idyllic past before you knew how breeding centers worked and how security hybrids were made. You feel foolish. Who were you to try to get them to let go of their pain and their hurt? If what they’d been through was even a little like what was going on here, they wouldn’t be able to for a long time. You’re angry. You’re disgusted. You are unquantifiably fucking sad. 
You pass Eunjung on your way out. In your time in the director’s office, she’s pulled her ash brown hair into a low ponytail at the nape of her neck. Peeking out of the collar of her sweatshirt you can see a faded scar in the shape of a ring, little puncture marks pale and glossy. It looked similar to the one on the director’s cheek, but this one was a complete circle and not ragged at all, like she’d stayed completely still while it was given. Teeth marks. 
You swallow. You want to do something, to give her some words of encouragement, but you have no idea what to say. You still don’t as you slow to a stop beside her desk, but you open your mouth to speak anyway. “I’m sorry,” You tell her, with all the sincerity in your heart. 
She doesn’t answer, but one cropped ear flicks toward you and her fingers slow in their incessant race across her keyboard. 
You turn to go. Mr. Seo was holding the door open for you and you can hear the director barking orders at a group of trainees to run an obstacle course faster. Just as you set foot over the threshold, she speaks. Her voice is so quiet, you have to strain to hear her over the steady clack-click-clack of her nails on the keys. 
“He likes green things,” she says, not looking up from her work. “And old books.” 
You look over your shoulder at her. Her face is a mask of neutrality, her eyes clear and her mouth set in a relaxed line. She looks fine, but there’s an ocean of meaning behind her words. You see her, just for a moment, as she’d been all those years ago, barefoot in the snow and begging for shelter, her stomach full with one of the moon’s own children. You commit the sight of her to memory. Then you turn and you go.
The director is waiting outside, shielding his eyes from the sun and regaling Mr. Seo with some long-winded explanation on the best way to treat hip dysplasia in Doberman hybrids. “Where to?” you ask, effectively cutting him off mid-sentence. 
The man gives you a disgruntled look but despite the anxiety you feel spiking in your belly, you meet it evenly. Once upon a time, anyone in a position of authority looking at you the way he was would’ve sent you into a tailspin of self-doubt and nerves, leaving you shivering as your heartbeat thrummed in your ears, warning you of non-existent danger. If you were honest, it still did- but you didn’t have the luxury of running away and hiding anymore, not when there were people who needed you. 
“Hope’s bags are in the barracks. He just needs to grab them, and he can be on his merry way,” The direction grunts. “Monster’s still locked up, so I’ll-”
“I’ll go.” You can feel Mr. Seo stiffen beside you. 
“Ms. Y/N-”
“If he’s really that aggressive,” you start, your eyes not leaving the director’s for a moment. “Wouldn’t it be better for me to meet him now instead of when we’re packed into a car on a two hour car ride?” Director Lim narrows his eyes at you, but you don’t falter. You hold your hand out for the key. Your boldness surprises you. He drops the key ring into your open palm and you wrap your fingers around it, stuffing it in your pocket before he can snatch them back. You turn on your heels and march off in the direction he tilts his head in, nothing but a hiss of your name from Mr. Seo’s lips to accompany you. 
You walk quickly, eyes straight and willing your legs to go faster with every stride. It’s a long way across the compound but the less time you spend walking, the less time you have to stew in anxiety. None of the hybrids training in little packs spread across the yard pay you any mind- except for Hope. 
Your path takes you directly behind the group of kids he’s working with. You give them a wide berth, not wanting to disturb them, but you get a little distracted. Your steps slow for just a moment as you drink him in. He’s tall- the same height as Taehyung, if you’re judging it right, but there’s an ease about him the tiger hybrid hasn’t yet mastered. Everything about Taehyung is pulled in. He’s always coiled tight, like he’s preparing to spring forward at any moment, all his energy drawn into the center of his being. Even last night, when you’d been cuddled up with him on the couch, he’d pulled you tight against his side, shifting and rearranging himself til you both fit on one cushion. He’d held you tight through both films, his tail curled around the both of you and his spine tight, like if he let himself relax for a moment, you’d both turn to dust on the wind. 
Hope has no such fear. Everything about him is spread wide open, from the heart-shaped smile on his lips to his arms as he demonstrates a series of punches to his little pack of students. They all watch him with rapt attention, ears perked up and bandaged tails wagging. One of them asks him a question and he laughs, ruffles their hair. He laughs in a way you’ve never seen before, shoulders shaking like he can’t contain the force of it alone. It makes your heart flip. 
His ears twitch, picking up the change in the cadence of your footsteps. He looks up and your eyes meet for the first time. He looks surprised to see you, for a moment, face blank- but then it melts into a soft smile, brimming with affection you’ve done nothing to earn. You snatch your gaze away and fix it to the dirt in front of you, embarrassed at being caught. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see him cock his head to the side in confusion, but he doesn’t go after you. All the better, you’re all but running away from him now. 
You shuffle across the compound in a blur of scuffed sneakers and frayed nerves. You barely give yourself time to look up at the small cinder block building before you, shoving the key in the padlock before you can lose what unearned confidence you have left. You twist it, yank the rusted thing open, take a deep breath and enter.
You don’t know what you’d been expecting, but it’s certainly not what you find. The way Director Lim had spoken about him and this place, you’d been expecting cobwebs on the ceiling, blood spatters on the wall and rusty nails on the floor. What’s before you is almost entirely the opposite.
The room is a veritable Eden. 
There are vines climbing every available wall, wrapping around structural posts and digging their way between concrete blocks. Every surface is crammed full of flowering plants in makeshift pots: lilies in old water jugs, violets in a worn out boot, black-eyed susans dripping orange petals from an upturned helmet. The floor is in a similar state, ferns and foxgloves turning what little space around his bed there is into a meadow. It’s beautiful. 
“He likes green things,” you marvel, stepping into the room and pushing the door shut behind you. It seemed every living thing that’d been uprooted to expand the compound had found a second life here, sheltered from the Director’s violence. Maybe the hybrid who lived here had too. 
A plant different from all the others catches your eye. It’s set up on the cardboard box serving as his bedside table and it’s the only one in a real pot from what you can tell. It looks just like a miniature tree, complete with knobs on it’s trunk and tiny leaves. You let out a little sound of wonder and crouch in front of it, your fingers reaching out on their own to trail across the delicate branches-
A massive hand wraps around your wrist, stopping you cold. “Don’t touch that.” 
You hadn’t heard him approach, but now you knew he was there. You could feel his presence behind you, heavy and warm. He’s looming over you. You swallow and make your arm go limp in his grip. No need to give him a reason. “I won’t,” You tell him. “Will you please let go of my wrist?”
He drops your arm without protest and relief floods your body. You weren’t sure if there was a hybrid version of lockjaw and you certainly weren’t itching to find out. You sit back on your heels and struggle to your feet, still hyper aware of the person behind you, his eyes boring holes into the back of your head. By the time you turn around, he’s back where he came from, standing in the entrance for a bathroom you hadn’t seen, half hidden behind a curtain of vines. 
He looks different than the others. You’d been expecting that, but the full-length fluffy tail held stiffly behind his back and the long-furred ears pointed away from you are still a surprise. His fur, instead of being in rigid black and tan points, is marked by whorls of black, brown and gray. Instead of the lean musculature all the other hybrids had -all trim waists and narrow ankles- he’s sturdier, his shoulders broad and the veins in his forearms popping as he clenches his fists. He’s looking at you with that mismatched glare, his chin tilted toward his chest and his eyes shining aquamarine and obsidian. 
“If you’re new,” he starts, voice raspy. “They should’ve told you: you’re supposed to knock before you come in.”
“No, I’m not-”
“You can leave the food over there.” He nods toward a little plastic folding table jammed into one corner. It’s the one surface in his room that’s devoid of plants and there’s nothing on it besides a metal cafeteria tray, licked clean. “I won’t move when your back is turned.”
“I’m not here to deliver your food.”
He frowns, brows drawing together as his shoulders tense. “Then why are you…?”
You ball your hands up in your sweater sleeves and turn to face him full on. “I’m here to take you home with me.” You tell him. “They didn’t tell you?”
He laughs, but it’s a cold sound, devoid of joy. “Nobody tells me anything.”
Based on the short conversation you’d had with Director Lim, his sudden cancellation of contracts and the way he seemed ready to bulldoze over anything and everyone that didn’t fit his agenda, he didn’t seem the sharing type. Still it was hard to believe he hadn’t told him he’d be leaving the compound that’s been his home for over twenty years. 
“You don’t have to come with me,” you add, softly. “If you don’t want to. I know I’m a stranger. But you can leave-”
“I can’t go anywhere.” He taps the collar around his neck. At first, you’d thought it was the same as the ones every other hybrid had been wearing. You can see now that it isn’t. Theirs had all been leather with thin silver buckles holding them in place. His was leather too, but the band was broader and double-layered. There’s a little box on the side with hinges and a small drawing of a lighting bolt. A shock collar. 
Your stomach turns. 
You take a slow step toward him, but the second you do, his ears go flat against his head and he pulls his lips back, revealing sharp teeth. You freeze, hands held up and the keys dangling from your thumb. “I have the keys,” you say, extending them toward him. 
His eyes flick from your face, to the keys in your hand and back again, like he doesn’t believe what’s happening, like he can’t believe you’d actually want him free. The silence drags out into a little eternity before he speaks again. “If I try to unlock it, it’ll shock me.”
You blink up at him and risk another slow step forward, hoping you’ve caught his meaning correctly. This time, he doesn’t growl but his ears stay pinned back as he watches you through narrowed eyes. You close the distance between the two of you. 
When you were six, your mom scraped together enough money to take you to Busan for your birthday. You’d spent the day down at the beach, building sand castles with sea shell windows and wading through tide pools. After the sun had set, someone had set off fireworks and you’d watched them cuddled up in your mom’s arms, eyes wide and filled with a riot of colors you had no name for. It’s strange, you know. The ocean is miles away, but that’s what he smells like: the sea and the sand, and the last curls of smoke from homemade bottle rockets. He smells like that day. 
You lift your hands to the clasp on his neck and slide the key home. You twist it and the collar falls to the ground, a monster that can’t hurt him anymore. His skin is warm under your fingers, but puckered with scar tissue. There’s a ring of it around his neck, branching with whatever current had run through him in different directions. There’s no way this was legal, no way anyone with half a heart could treat another person like this. Your fingers trail one of the splits over his adam’s apple and he swallows beneath your touch, snatching your wrist again. 
“Dont.” His voice is cold. You blink, shaking off whatever spell you’d been under and shuffle back quickly, eager to give him space. He cradles his throat with one long-fingered hand, massaging the skin. He rolls his neck and you look away. You shouldn’t stare; the last thing you want is to make him uncomfortable. “I’ll go with you,” he rasps, answering the question before you can ask it again.
You gape for a second. You really hadn’t expected it to be that easy. “Really?” You can’t stop a note of relief from creeping into your voice.
“Anywhere’s better than here.” He answers back. So, you were a means to an end. It doesn’t bother you. You’ll be whatever you need to be to get him away from this place and that man who seemed to only want to drive him down. 
“Do you need time to pack, or-?”
He gives a firm shake of his head. “There’s nothing from this place I want to keep.” And that’s the end of it. You push open the door and stride back out into the cold mountain air, trying your best to exude the confidence you know you lack. The hybrid slinks behind you, head hunched between his shoulders and every step stiff. He hesitates at the threshold and looks up at you, uncertainty written in the rigid line of his spine. He’s nervous. He has every right to be. 
How long had he spent in that little cinderblock room, shut away from every living thing? How long had he spent being told that he was a monster? You didn’t believe it, not for one second. No one who was as violent as the director had painted him out to be could’ve raised that garden. 
He leans out of the door frame, sniffs the air and lurches forward, out of the shadow of his room, His shoulders bunch up even higher around his head and he goes stiff like he’s waiting for a shock or a shot or a shout- but none comes. The sun is still shining and he’s barefoot in the sand, standing for the first time in years under the open sky. He exhales in a short puff and it looks like he’s going to walk beside you- but he turns on his heels on goes back inside. 
You make a little noise of distress in the back of your throat. Had he changed his mind? Did he not want to come with you anymore? You go to call his name out of concern- but realize you don’t know it. All you have is the call sign he’d been given and you sure as fuck aren’t calling him ‘Monster’. You don’t have to flounder for long. He comes back out two seconds later, cradling the bonsai that’d caught your attention to his chest. 
“I’ll take this,” he mutters, shuffling into place behind you. You can’t smother the smile that starts tugging at your lips. Yeah, no one hateful would hold a little tree with as much tenderness as an infant. 
You give him a little nod. “There’s a terrace where I live,” you tell him, starting your trek across the yard once again. “It’s got a garden and a little greenhouse on it. It’s not very big, and it’s not as pretty as your’s, but you could grow new things there, if you wanted.”
His ears twitch in response, but he keeps his glower firmly focused on the plant in his arms as he shuffles along beside you. It’s then you notice he’s barefoot. “Do you wanna go back and get your shoes?” You ask, trying to make the question sound as innocuous as possible.
“Don’t have any,” he grumbles back. “Don’t need them; I never go outside.” 
Alright, that was understandable. Your first stop when you got back into the city would be a shoe store to get him a pair to wear- or maybe not with the way he kept flinching every time a whistle blew and his ears were swivelling like satellites at each new sound that reached them. You chew the inside of your lip. You don’t want to ask, but you know you should. Better to rip the bandaid off now, than get surprised later. “How long were you shut in for?”
“Fourteen.” He bites out. 
“...weeks?” You venture. There's a hopeful uptick at the end of your words. Even that would’ve been horrible, even that would be worthy of the litany of profanity you’re mentally lobbing at Director Lim- but it’s still better than the truth. 
The hybrid cuts a flat look at you out of the corner of his eyes. “Years.” 
A wall of your scent hits him like a freight train, vacillating between the thick, cloying odor of sadness and the burn of anger. His nose wrinkles at it, brows drawing together in confusion. 
However little you might’ve known about hybrids, however limited your view of them was, you knew they weren’t supposed to be locked up. Domesticated hybrids like hamsters and cats might’ve been fine inside a house all day, assuming they still had regular interaction with people- but dogs weren’t. And he was half wolf. Wild, he’d have had dozens of square miles to roam over, and he’d been limited to a four-by-four yard room for fourteen years. Your goshiwon was a similar size, but it hadn’t been your whole world. All he’d had was one tiny window and what narrow view he’d managed to glimpse in the doorway when his meals were delivered. 
You open your mouth to say something, anything, but you’re cut off by a scream of delight and a snarl keying up in the hybrid next to you’s chest. Your jaw snaps shut with a click. 
A few yards ahead, there’s a group of kids wrestling in a massive pile. They’re all giggling and rolling over each other, tails wagging a mile a minute as they play bite and make grabs for the person at the center of their puppy pile. A head of black hair and a pair of cropped ears pop up and you see that it’s Hope, smiling bright as the sun as his students try to pin him. 
“You can’t leave!” One particularly determined kid yips, adamantly pushing his shoulder back to the sand. “Who’s gonna teach us?”
Hope just laughs.”Lisa is gonna teach you with the older kids-“
A chorus of disappointed barks and howls breaks out. “Ms. Lisa’s classes are too hard!” A little girl complains.
“Yeah!” Someone else chimes in. “And she’s strict!” 
The hybrid ruffles both kid’s hair affectionately, careful of their bandaged ears. “Just because she won’t let you get away with skipping night practice doesn’t mean she’s strict,” he laughs. He’s only met with more grumbles and complaints. 
It warms your heart to see. Even if these kids were at the mercy of their director -for now, at least- it was good that they had him to rely on. Your eyes meet and the sheer force of light in his face makes your own heat up. You look away, but he’s spotted you. He disentangles himself from the mess of kids and draws himself up to his full height. He’s in the same uniform he was in before, albeit with a black tactical bag now strapped to his back. He takes a step toward you and the wolfdog hybrid's ears go flat against his skull. He’s not deterred. “Joonie?”  It takes you a second to realize he’s talking to the hybrid next to you. “Kim Namjoon, is that you?” Hope takes one step forward and the hybrid - Namjoon - takes a step back to counter him. Hope looks like he’s going to advance again, but a small pair of hands wrapped around one of his own stops him. 
A little girl is holding on to him. She can’t be more than six years old. Her tail is still long and her ears are still floppy and she looks so small in her child-sized boots and cargo pants. “Mr. Hobi,” she whines, her head craned back to look up at him. “Please don’t go.”
He falters. His eyes flick from the pair of you back down to her, then he crouches, holds both of her hands in his. “I have to, Sowon-ah,” he says softly. 
She sniffles pitifully and juts out her lower lip.”But why?” 
It’s a fair question. You’re about to tell him that he doesn’t have to come with you if he  doesn’t want to, but he beats you to the punch. “Because it’s my job, sweetheart,” he tells her, smiling softly.
“Y-your job is to teach us,” she hiccups back, face growing blotchy as tears well up in her eyes. Hope swipes one of them away with his thumbs. 
“I teach you so you can grow up well and protect your person, right?” She nods, little hands balling the fabric of her cargo pants up in her fists. “Right. Well this,” he continues, turning and looking at you with a soft smile. “Is my person. And I’ve gotta go make sure she stays safe.” 
You feel your heart jump into your throat. He’s looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky and you don’t deserve it. You’ve done nothing to warrant that much unearned loyalty. Sowon rubs at her eyes with the back of her hands and Hope pulls her into a tight hug. 
“Ah, don’t cry, Sowon! You’ve gotta make sure you get stronger so someone takes you home, okay? You don’t wanna get old and still be here like me, right?” He squeezes her and goes to stand, but gets mobbed by his students again, all wanting their own hugs and making him swear to write them letters. It takes another five minutes of tearful goodbyes and Director Lim approaching for them to turn him loose.
“Get back to your training, all of you!” He barks, stomping out of the office and slamming the door, Mr. Seo on his heels. The kids scatter to the four winds almost instantly, not wanting to be underfoot for whatever scolding the director was about to deal out. Hope’s face remains the same but you catch his ears droop just a little as his students leave him. The wolfdog hybrid- Namjoon, you remind yourself- on the other hand has his ears flat against his skull. A growl bubbles up in his chest and rips past his lips. It’s a dark, full bodied thing that has you taking a step back and Hope shrinking with a whine. 
“Joonie-” he pleads. 
“Don’t fucking call me that.” All the fur on Namjoon’s body is standing on end, from the points of his ears to the tip of his tail. Even his hair has fluffed out. His mismatched eyes are narrowed, lips pulled back in a snarl that reveals his incisors and all that fury, all that rage, is leveled on Director Lim. 
To his credit, the grizzled man doesn’t shrink back an inch before the enraged hybrid. His lips twist and he yanks a little remote out of his pocket, mashing a red button in the center. Namjoon flinches, his hands fly to his neck- but nothing happens. The shock collar is gone and the director has no power over him anymore. 
The man in question’s eyes widen, flicking between the remote to the column of Namjoon’s throat, now devoid of his one element of control. “Where’s his collar?” He demands. “How the hell did you get your collar off?” He advances on the tall hybrid, his hand in the air and though he doesn’t stop snarling, Namjoon ducks his head, anticipating the blow. 
You don’t know what moves you. Maybe it’s Hope pleading for it all to ‘stop, just stop!’. Maybit’s how Namjoon knows exactly how to move when he’s about to get hit. Maybe it’s your own lack of self-preservation. Whatever it is, you blink and you’re in front of Namjoon, your hand up and clutching the director’s forearm, stopping him from striking the hybrid behind you. You’re not strong enough to stop him, not fully. Your elbow buckles in and you stumble back, your back pressing into the wolfdog hybrid’s chest.
The director yells something at you, red flooding his face. You can’t hear him over the rushing of blood in your ears, the pounding of your heart. You force a dry swallow down your throat, put on your bravest face and glare up at him. “Don’t hurt him anymore.”
He reaches out with his free hand to tug you out of the way, but before he can touch you, Hope is there. He presses close to your side and holds the director’s wrist firm, his eyes on the sand and his shoulders hunched up by his ears.
Director Lim looks angry enough to spit. “Hell of a time for you to grow a backbone,” he snarls at Hope, making the doberman hybrid flinch. “I want all four of you off my property now.” He snatched his arms free and you don’t miss the nasty glare he casts at Namjoon. “And if this mutt ever shows his face around here again, I’ll-”
“Director Lim,” Mr. Seo cuts in, his voice cool. “You’ve made yourself clear; we’ll leave. You needn’t make threats.” There’s an underlying warning in the attorney’s voice. The director locks his jaw.
“Get out.” He breathes. Hope ducks around him, his head low and his docked tail pressed close to his back. If he could tuck it, you think he would. You follow after him, eyes fixed straight ahead and your back ramrod straight. He might’ve scared the shit out of you, but you weren’t going to let him see that. Mr. Seo fixes you with a hard look and the second you’re within arms reach, he presses a hand to your back and ushers you toward the gate. The only one who remains is Namjoon.
He looks like his anger has rooted him to the spot. His ears are still flat against his head, his lip still curled. 
“Do it, boy,” the director taunts. “Give me a reason-”
“Namjoon.” At the sound of his name, his ears prick up and you turn around. It’d come not from Hope- which you’d expected, seeing as he seemed to be the only one who actually knew his fellow hybrid’s name- but from the open door of the office building where Eunjung stood. She looks at him, her expression unreadable and he stares back. All the tension in his body has shifted and for a moment, you think he’s going to spring toward her and fall into her arms- but she gives an almost imperceptible shake of her head and his face hardens. His arms tighten around his bonsai. You think you know, now, why it was the only plant in his room that had a pot. 
“Go,” she says and all the tension leaves him. His shoulders curve in and he drags himself past the director, out from the fence and toward Mr. Seo’s car. There’s something final about the way the gate rolls shut after him. If you hadn’t known better, you’d’ve sworn you heard him whine as it locked. 
The car ride down the mountain is...interesting to say the least. Hope insists that the seating arrangements inside the Buick be done to his specifications,( “You’ve gotta sit in the middle,” he tells you, pointing to the narrow center seat. “And Joonie and I will sit on either side of you to protect you in case we crash!” His tail is wagging a mile a minute behind him. You’re surprised it can move that much, given how short it is. Mr. Seo looks affronted at the unintentional jab at his driving and Namjoon just looks irritated. “I told you to stop calling me that.”) and he keeps throwing an arm across your middle everytime the car hits a bump. You’re going down the side of a mountain. There are a lot of bumps. He also keeps pressing his nose against the glass of his window, ears pricked up and trying to take in every tree that passes by. Namjoon, on the other hand, slouches back in his seat, his body curved around his plant and ever so slightly away from you. He still watches the world pass by, but he doesn’t acknowledge any of you or speak- which would be fine if anyone else would. Hope seems to be doing his best to appear stoic and alert every time you look at him and Mr. Seo seems comfortable with the quiet. So, you’re left to ride the two hours back to Seoul in silence. 
You almost cry with relief when your phone buzzes with an incoming text. You fish the device out of your pocket, thumb it to life and scan your notifications.
Unknown Sender [7:13 PM] where are you
You frown. Very few people had your number or any reason to text you. You’re about to chalk it up to a wrong number when the second text rolls in.
Unknown Sender [7:14 PM] it’s yoongi
Now that’s a surprise. When you’d hurriedly told the boys to text you, you’d been expecting Jimin to urge you to hurry or for Taehyung to ask for updates, not for their hyung to check your progress. A little smile pricks at your lips as you rush to reply
You [7:14 PM] We’re on the way back now!
Unknown Sender has been changed to Yoongi 
Yoongi [7:14 PM] can i call
You bite the inside of your lip, suddenly nervous. You know there’s no reason to be. After all, you tell yourself, what’s scary about a pair of roommates talking on the phone? You give him the go ahead and not three seconds after the delivered notification pops up, you get a call. You answer it on speaker.
“...Hello?”
“Did you just start driving?” Yoongi’s voice is thick with sleep, like he’s just woken up. It’s different than normal, his usual smooth drawl gone gravelly. 
“Y-yeah,” you reply, trying to ignore the way Hope is watching you out of the corner of his eyes and Namjoon’s ears have swiveled back toward you. “It’s gonna be awhile, still. Are Taehyung and Jimin-”
“They’re fine; They ate dinner earlier and they’ll be asleep til you get back.” He yawns and you picture him slouched on the couch, his hair mashed up on one side and his face puffy.  “Why do you sound nervous?”
“I’m not,” you counter. It’s a blatant lie and he knows it. He hums in doubt, but doesn’t press you.
“I’ll see you when you get back.”
“Do you want me to text you when we’re close?” It’s an innocuous question. There’s no reason you can see for him to pause as long as he does. For a second you think you’ve lost him- after all, mountains aren’t known for having great reception- but then you hear his breath fan over the receiver. 
“...Yeah.” 
You give a little nod you know he can’t see. “Okay.” He makes a little noise of assent and then his line clicks off. You hang up. Just as you do, another text comes through. 
Yoongi [7:16 PM] don’t let them scent you
“Who was that?” Hope asks in a small voice, pulling you away from your phone screen and Yoongi’s insistence that you remain scent-free. His tone is open, but you can tell by the way his knee is bouncing that he really, really wants to know. “Is that your husband?”
The bark of laughter that rips past your lips is out before you can think to stop it. Namjoon flinches and you wince at him in apology, your hand flying up to cover your mouth. Hope is frowning at you in confusion, his head cocked slightly to the side. You force yourself to calm and answer him. “No, Yoongi is not my husband.” You weren’t sure if you even really qualified as friends at this point. “He’s another hybrid that lives with me.”
Hope perks up in his seat. “You have another hybrid? Director Lim always told us that once we left the center, we’d be alone.” Your expression sours at the mention of the ill-tempered man and you shake your head. 
“No, there’s a lot of hybrids in Seoul,” you tell him, eager to dispel some of his misconceptions. “The three that live with me are named Yoongi, Jimin and Taehyung. Yoongi’s around your age, I think. Jimin and Taehyung are younger.” The doberman hybrid sits at rapt attention, soaking up every bit of information you give him and waiting eagerly for more. What else could you tell him about them? You remember the boys’ reaction that morning when you told them you’d be bringing dog hybrids home. “...They’re all felines,” you say, slowly, trying to gauge their reactions. 
“So that’s why you smell like that.” It’s the first words Namjoon’s spoken since you all piled into the car. You turn to him, but he’s not looking at you.
“What do you-?”
“You smell like other hybrids,” Hope says, covering for him. “But I’ve never smelled any that weren’t other dogs before.” He leans closer, his seatbelt stretching. You tense and lean away from him, but he’s not deterred. The tip of his nose brushes your neck and you have to fight off a shiver as he breathes you in. “They smell the same…” he starts, his breath fanning over your throat. “...but different? And one of them isn’t as strong as the others-” He presses closer, trying to catch the scent that’s eluding him. You make a noise of mild distress and lean further back, pressing into the solid wall that is Namjoon. 
“Hoseok, let it go .” Hoseok. That was his real name then. To your surprise, the dog hybrid pulls back as instructed, settling back into his seat without so much as a whine.
“I’ve never met a cat before,” he muses, turning his attention back to the window. “I hope they’re nice.”
You think about the chorus of hisses you’d been met with when you told the boys they’d have to share their space. You hope so too.
It’s 9:30 by the time Mr. Seo drops you off back in front of your building. He wishes you a good night and promises to call later in the week to discuss Black Mountain Canines. You’re not sure if there’s anyone to report him to or anything you can do, but you want to try. What you’d seen at the compound was wrong any way you looked at it. It made you sick to leave anyone there knowing how the director treated Namjoon and Hoseok. No one was useless. No one deserved to be locked away for years at a time for the sheer crime of existing. You’d make them see that. 
The moment you step out of the car, Hoseok is all wide smiles and exclamations. “Woah, you live here?” he asks, tilting his head back to take in all fifty-one floors of Haneul Tower in their sparkling, glass-paned glory.
“Yeah,” you tell him, handing him his bag. In his excitement to get out of the car, he’d abandoned it and Mr. Seo had nearly driven away with it. “But I just moved in a couple days ago, so it’s still pretty empty.”
Hoseok nods, scanning the windows like he’ll be able to pick out which one’s your’s. Behind you, Namjoon is lingering on the sidewalk.
He’s still got his bonsai clutched close to his chest and he’s hunched down around it like he’s trying to stop unseen hands from picking at it. His shoulders are bunched up by his ears, and he flinches with every car horn, every siren that comes to you on the wind. He’d grown up in the mountains and spent the better part of his life indoors. It only made sense that he’d be sensitive to the sounds of the city. 
“Is there a security system?” Hoseok asks, still enamored with the building. “How many entrances does your apartment have?”
“Just one second,” you tell him, forehead wrinkling as you take in Namjoon. You slide slowly toward the wolfdog, not wanting to startle him. “Namjoon?” He flinches when you call his name, head whipping toward you. “Do you wanna go inside? I know it’s new, but it’ll be quieter, I think.”
His mismatched eyes flick from you, to Hoseok, to the building and back to you before settling firmly on the concrete at his feet. He seems different than he had in the mountains. He’s smaller, quieter, less sure of himself. Was it because this is all new territory for him? Or had the snarling hybrid in the mountains just been a roll he was forced to play, the mythic monster to the director’s tyrant king. 
“You don’t have to go inside if you don’t want to,” you tell him, in a voice you hope is reassuring. “We can wait, if you need to.”
“I’ll wait with you, Joonie,” Hope chimes in, giving the larger hybrid the same soft smile he’d given his students earlier. 
He swallows, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “It...it’s fine,” he mutters, “We can go in, I just…” He takes a few hesitant steps forward and huddles closer to you. There’s still an inch between you, but it’s closer than you’d thought he’d come. 
You peer up at him. “Okay?” You ask. He gives a single nod and your little group moves through the double doors and into the lobby. 
It’s quieter at this time of night. You don’t recognize the woman standing behind the reception desk. There’s no one really around except one man, pacing the width of the lobby looking thoroughly put out. You can’t really see his face, but there’s something familiar about the slant of his body. He whirls around as the glass doors click shut and you catch sight of a fringe of gray hair, pointed ears, narrowed yellow eyes and an all too familiar pout. 
Yoongi. 
“Fuck.” You’d completely forgotten to text him. Judging by the look on his face as he stalks toward you, he wasn’t happy about it. To his credit, Hoseok does his best to guard you, sliding in front of you and pushing you behind him. You can’t see Yoongi’s ears beneath the hat he’s wearing but if his curled lip and narrowed eyes are any indicator, they’re pinned straight back. 
“Move.” He snarls at the doberman hybrid. Hoseok is taller than he is, but the closer Yoongi gets to him, the smaller he seems to shrink. There’s fire in the bobcat hybrid’s eyes. Hope whimpers and slinks out of his way, ears low. 
You wince. “Heeeeey, Yoongi. I’m sorry I forg-“ before you can even finish the sentence, he tugs you toward him by the shoulders. His face roves your neck, sniffing in earnest as he tries to pick up the scent of the other hybrids on you. All is well until he reaches the right side of your throat and grazes over the exact spot Hoseok had nosed earlier. He pulls away slowly, his shoulders tight. His head turns slowly to the doberman hybrid, mechanical. 
“You.” He hisses at the other hybrid with so much virulence it makes your blood run cold. He takes one step toward him, teeth bared in a snarl, but Namjoon slides in front of him bumping him back. A growl bubbles in the bobcat hybrid’s chest and the wolfdog matches it, both their ears pinned flat against their skulls. 
“Hey-” If either of them hear you, they don’t react. They’re too focused on having a staring contest. “Hey!” You push between them, a hand on either of their chests. Namjoon snarls as you touch him and Yoongi looks ready to skin him alive for that alone. He pushes against your hand, trying to get closer to the taller hybrid. You ball your hand up in the fabric of his shirt. “Stop it!” The receptionist already has the lobby phone in her hand. She’s whispering earnestly into it and you’re sure security will be on the way any second. You exhale and squeeze your eyes shut. “Everybody, elevator.” 
Yoongi hurls an accusatory finger in Hoseok’s direction. “These fucking-”
“Yoongi, please,” you plead. That gets him to stop. His arm falls to his side and he glowers down at you for a few seconds before stalking over to the elevators and slamming the up button. “I’m sorry,” you murmur to Hoseok and Namjoon. The smaller of the two hybrids is still hunched in on himself and the taller has Yoongi fixed in his mismatched gaze, his lips curled in anger. 
This was not the way you wanted this to go. You’d wanted them to have time to settle before you discussed next steps and gave them the same talk you’d given the felines, but it didn’t look like that was in the cards. You don’t know what’s gotten into Yoongi. You’d thought the bobcat hybrid was calm, cool and collected, completely unflappable in the face of anything. Apparently not. He seemed upset that some of Hoseok’s scent had gotten on you, but there’d been no way to help that. You’d been packed in a car with him and Namjoon for two hours. It was inevitable, wasn’t it?
“It’s not okay,” you tell them, wanting them to know you didn’t condone the way Yoongi had acted. “I don’t...I don’t know why he’s acting like this; he doesn’t normally. Do you wanna go up separately?”
It’s Hoseok who answers. “No, we’ll go up together,” he assures you with a small nod. “If...maybe if we get used to each other, it’ll be okay?” 
You’re not optimistic, but you give him a pained smile you hope is reassuring. “Yeah, maybe?” You cast a look back over your shoulders. Yoongi is waiting by the elevators, his arms crossed over his chest and his tail flicking in irritation. The elevator dings and the doors slide open. Well, there was no avoiding it. “Come on,” you tell them. “Just...keep to the other side, for now. I’ll stand between you and him.” 
The four of you pile into the elevator, all tucked into your own corners. It’s strange, you think. It’s never seemed small until now. Hoseok keeps casting worried looks over at you, Namjoon keeps subtly shifting closer and Yoongi is still glowering at the both of them, angry for a reason you can’t quantify. 
“If it helps,” Hoseok starts softly, his voice an intrusion in the awkward silence. “I really didn’t mean to, honestly-”
“Don’t apologize.” Namjoon counters. “If it bothers him that much, he can speak up” 
You don’t know what they’re talking about. It’s too late that you realize the canines aren’t addressing you. Suddenly, Yoongi’s fingers are hooked through one of your belt loops. He yanks you backwards and you stumble, falling against the length of his body. “My bad,” You shoot out, before the hybrid can hiss at you. “I just lost my bala-” The words die on your tongue as Yoongi fixes his mouth to the soft skin of your throat. The elevator goes quiet.
The canine hybrids avert their eyes almost instantaneously, instinct telling them they’re witnessing something they shouldn’t be. Yoongi keeps them fixed firmly in his sights, a dark growl bubbling in his throat. 
Your fingers flex uselessly at your sides, hands clenching unclenching as the hybrid works over the sensitive skin of your neck with his teeth and tongue. ‘Don’t make a noise,’ you plead with yourself. ‘This isn’t what it feels like. Don’t make a noise, don’t make a noise, don’t make a noise-’ Yoongi’s incisors graze over a vein and a little whimper slips past your lips before you can stop it. The grip he has on your hips becomes bruising. You feel your legs turning to jelly beneath you. Any more of what he was doing, and they’d have to mop you up off the elevator floor. You force your throat to swallow. “Y-Yoongi, I think that’s enough-” You don’t know if he hears you over the noise he’s making, so you lace your fingers through his and untangle them from your hips. He releases you with a wet pop and you slap a hand over the skin he’d marked. Heat floods your face and a smirk spreads across Yoongi’s, his teeth flashing at the canines. He leans in again to rub his nose against the mark he’d made- but a hand on his chest stops him. 
“Can you stop?” You ask in a small voice. Honestly, you’re embarrassed. Regardless of what the articles said about mark-making being platonic, it doesn’t feel friendly. It feels possessive and mean and you don’t like it. “I’m sorry I didn’t text you like you asked, but what is with you today?” Yoongi’s expression changes from smug satisfaction to confusion and then surprise, like he hadn’t expected you to protest. “I know what I said about you being ready but…” You rub a hand over the mark, wiping away saliva and your sweat. The bobcat hybrid visibly deflates. The elevator chimes for the fiftieth floor and the doors roll open slowly. You rush out before any of them can and start punching the code in your door with shaky fingers. You don’t know what to say. You’re tired and stressed and you don’t know what’s going on. Was this about the apartment? You knew the felines wouldn’t be happy about sharing their space, but why had Yoongi gone this far?
“Y/N…” He trails after you, his ears drooping. You shake your head, You can’t talk to him right now. 
“In the morning,” you tell him as the door swings open. “We’ll talk about it in the morning.” You can’t deal with everything that’s happened today, and Yoongi flipping out and getting the canines settled. You weren’t that good at juggling. 
By the grace of all that’s merciful, Taehyung and Jimin are still asleep when you walk in. You’d need to have an extended meet and greet tomorrow, you decide. Maybe do some icebreakers or team building exercises. If they reacted anything like their hyung did, you were in for one hell of an adjustment period. 
Hoseok and Namjoon trail you into the penthouse warily, sniffing the air. You want to give them time to explore and get their bearings, they deserve that, but with the way Yoongi still seems agitated when they venture anywhere but exactly in your steps, that’ll need to be saved until tomorrow morning too. You give them the most spartan tour you can muster up and show them each to a guest room, promising to order them furniture and get them the things they need tomorrow. 
By the time you collapse into your own bed, it’s damn near 11. You groan and drag a pillow over your face as you ask the universe for the thousandth time why it had decided to continuously kick your ass. Having three hybrids had been hard enough. Having five of all different species was likely to prove impossible and having seven was going to be a sisyphean task you’d had no training for. You groan and kick your feet in the air, allowing yourself the brief respite of a temper tantrum before crawling under your covers and flicking the lamp off. Maybe in your dreams there’d be no stress and no snarling hybrids with behavior you couldn’t explain.
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thatmultifandomhoe · 4 years
Text
Wish Upon a Star
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Our childhoods began with the magic that was found within these movies. Whether it be Disney, Pixar, or Studio Ghibli, our love has not once wavered. We’ve grown, and dare we say that we’ve matured, but there’s still a special place in our hearts for our favorite movies.
Except, these movies now have a twist.
We are no longer kids.
Welcome to Wish Upon a Star, where your favorite childhood movie finally grew up.
Disclaimer: The following stories are a combination of SFW, NSFW, or a combination of both.
Wish Upon A Star is collaboration of works containing stories based on some of our favorite movies from Disney, Pixar, and Studio Ghibli.
Writers from both the BTS Fic Hub and BTS Smut Hub servers (founded by @gukyi​​) have come together to write stories for the month of January. While this event is not directly affiliated with these servers, please feel free to check them out!
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Name of the Game by @ggukcangetit​​​​
Movie: Anastasia
Starring: Seokjin and Reader
Summary: The Hotel - Strange, The Manager - Far Too Charming, The Situation - Dire, The One in Trouble - You.
Rating: NSFW
Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 9th.
Two Birds, One Cake: by @pajaritojin​​
Movie: Brave
Starring: Prince Seokjin and Witch Reader
Summary: After Seokjin fails to return his mother to her human state because Y/N gave him the wrong spell, he is forced to release the Queen into the wilderness whilst he tracks down Y/N.
Rating: NSFW
Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 20th.
That Famous Happy Ending by: @jinpanman​​
Movie: Enchanted
Starring: Seokjin and Reader
Summary: You don't know what you expected when you followed the Prince to Andalasia... but of all things, you didn't expect to fall for him and his kingdom so quickly.
Rating: SFW
Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 21st.
The Medallion Calls by: @pajaritojin​​
Movie: Pirates of the Caribbean
Starring: Captain Seokjin and Governor Reader
Summary: Upon Seokjin’s wash up to shore after months of being lost in a wrecked boat, the town is attacked by a crew of pirates. Kidnapping Governor Y/L/N Y/N, the crew of pirates flee — leaving her friends and Seokjin to rescue her and keep the town at peace.
Rating: NSFW
Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 29th.
The End of the Fucking World (or: the Alpacalypse) by: @hauntedlilies​
Movie: The Emperor's New Groove
Starring: Seokjin and Reader
Summary: Over the past few years your life has been slowly falling apart. You didn't think it could get any worse — until your father comes home with a talking llama alpaca who claims he's the emperor of a lost civilization. But is he really who he says he is?
Rating: NSFW
Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 22nd.
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The Ghosts of Daegu Town by: @cremeandsuga​​
Movie: Monsters Inc.
Starring: Ghost Yoongi and Phasmophobic Reader
Summary: For the last 18 years, Min Yoongi had been appointed Resident Ghoul for his Scare Ratings. He managed to scare the life out of everyone…except when your door came down before him.
Rating: NSFW
Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 24th.
Second Star to the Right by: @thatlongspringnight​​
Movie: Peter Pan
Starring: Yoongi and Reader
Summary: Min Yoongi never believed in magic, but all it takes is a found shadow and one very frustrating girl to turn his world upside down. The real question remains: Will he keep that magic in his heart and choose to stay in Neverland, or will he abandon this magical world and the girl he's grown to love?
Rating: Combo
Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 3rd.
Basil & Beliefs by: @cremeandsuga​​
Movie: Ratatouille
Starring: Sous Chef Yoongi and Heir Reader
Summary: When the long lost daughter of Gusteau reappears and gets hired at his restaurant, she is expected to stay quiet and stay out of the spotlight — but her and her server friend Seokjin can’t do anything to stay out of the eyes of the sous chef, Min Yoongi.
Rating: NSFW
Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 14th.
A Restless Slumber by: @wwilloww​​
Movie: Sleeping Beauty
Starring: Yoongi and Reader
Summary: When one of you is always asleep, spending quality time together becomes easier to do in dreamworld.
Rating: NSFW
Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 1st.
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Coral Subconscious by: @hermosohoseok​​
Movie: Finding Nemo
Starring: Mermaid Hoseok and Mermaid Reader
Summary: When Y/L/N Y/N swims past Hoseok’s reef and saves his mother from the teeth of their terrorizing resident barracuda, he can’t help but feel indebted.
Rating: NSFW
Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 15th.
Cactus by @hesperantha​​​
Movie: Fantasia
Starring: Hoseok and Reader
Summary: Meeting a stranger at the club turns into an adventure. Starring Mickey!Hoseok, featuring Yensid!Namjoon.
Rating: NSFW
Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 2nd
Bare Necessities by: @hermosohoseok​​
Movie: Jungle book
Starring: Bear Aspect Hoseok and Adult Mowgli Reader
Summary: After Y/N’s life is threatened by resident Tiger Aspects Yoongi and Taehyung, Y/N is forced to vacate the jungle and leave behind her friends. Along the way, she finds the bear that saved her as a baby.
Rating: NSFW
Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 27th.
Smutocchio by @jinpanman​​
Movie: Pinocchio
Starring: Hoseok and Reader
Summary: You didn’t mean to fall for the growing dick man.
Rating: NSFW
Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 13th.
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A little less than 101 Meetings to fall in love: by @thatlongspringnight​​
Movie: 101 Dalmatians
Starring: Namjoon and Reader
Summary: Kim Namjoon has seen enough of the world to know two thing, dogs always look like their owners, and he's going to be perennially single. A chance meeting at the park changes at least one of those ideas forever.
Rating: Combo
Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 10th.
The Aftermath: by @queridonamjoon​​
Movie: Big Hero 6
Starring: Engineer Namjoon and Friend Version Tadashi Reader
Summary: After Y/N dies in an attempt to save Namjoon, his dreams are nothing more than memories of her and their adventures together — so he builds Y/N prototypes for every scenario, in which he will always be able to save her.
Rating: NSFW
Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 26th.
One Cube At A Time: by @queridonamjoon​​
Movie: Wall-E
Starring: Cyborg Namjoon and Cyborg Reader
Summary: Namjoon is the only functioning being left on planet Earth — imagine his surprise when he is made aware of a completely different world just a few galaxies away.
Rating: NSFW
Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 11th.
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Otherworldly Lovin’ by @thatmultifandomhoe​​
Movie: Flubber
Starring: Alien Taehyung and Human Reader
Summary: Not only did he crash land into you yard, but he also crashed right into your heart...among other places.
Rating: NSFW
Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 6th.
In The Doghouse: by @mariposatae​​
Movie: Lady & the Tramp
Starring: Dog Hybrid Taehyung and Dog Hybrid Reader
Summary: After Y/N finds herself in some hot water with Jungkook and her housemates, she must trust from afar as they find a mate for her in a serial monogamist with a knack for knocking up.
Rating: NSFW
Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 25th.
Bad Stitch 2.0: by @jinpanman​​
Movie: Lilo and Stitch
Starring: Taehyung and Reader
Summary: You and Taehyung finally get the house to yourselves and you’re not going to let it go to waste.
Rating: NSFW
Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 5th.
Blood from The Emperor: by @mariposatae​​
Movie: Mulan
Starring: Solider Taehyung and Solider/Princess Reader.
Summary: Y/L/N Y/N is the only daughter to The Emperor, and when she escapes her luxurious life in the palace to join the military, Kim Taehyung is the one to discover her.
Rating: NSFW
Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 12th.
Had it Been Another Day by @ggukcangetit​​
Movie: The Princess and the Frog
Starring: Taehyung and Reader
Summary: When the universe hated you enough to pair you with the most obnoxious guy in your class, for a project that would decide your future but had no such implications for him.
Rating: NSFW
Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 16th
Fairy Wings: by @ezralia-writes​​
Movie: Tinkerbell
Starring: Taehyung and Reader
Summary: "You should have never crossed the border," he choked out, "I should've known better to stop this before it even began."
Rating: SFW
Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 30th.
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Unholy Lightning: by @sunnydelightjimin​​
Movie: How to Train Your Dragon
Starring: Lightfury Hybrid Jimin and Nightfury Hybrid Reader
Summary: Y/L/N Y/N was taught to soar in the clearest of skies and attack in the deadliest situations — crazy how she has a tendency to flip those in her mind.
Rating: NSFW
Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 17th.
Chasing Waves by @magicalcrwn​​
Movie: The Little Mermaid
Starring: Jimin and Reader
Summary: From a young age, their curiosity grows stronger. For the human princess who has always been interested in the ocean’s secrets, for the merprince who has always been interested in the surface’s life. What would happen once they finally chase the waves to sate their curiosity?
Rating: SFW
Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 18th.
Lava In The Afternoon: by @sunnydelightjimin​​
Movie: The Incredibles
Starring: Immortal Superhero Jimin and Immortal Villain Reader
Summary: Y/L/N Y/N has terrorized the City of Seoul for generations alongside her friends — and Jimin has been tired of fighting her time and time again.
Rating: NSFW
Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 28th.
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The First Snow: by @carinojungkook​​
Movie: Bambi
Starring: Rabbit Aspect Jungkook and Deer Aspect Reader
Summary: When the daughter of The Great Prince is presented before the forest on the day of the First Snow, Jungkook finds himself enamored with the doe eyes filled with fire.
Rating: NSFW
Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 19th.
The Fourth Unforgivable by @ggukcangetit​​
Movie: The Lion King
Starring: Jungkook and Reader
Summary: Seven years is a long time. Enough to bring about many changes - new laws, dangerous associations, and the return of the one you had forced yourself to forget.
Rating: NSFW
Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 23rd
Moves Like An Ape, Looks Like a Man by @carinojungkook​​​
Movie: Tarzan
Starring: Tarzan Jungkook, and Animal Researcher Reader,
Summary: When animal researcher best friends Y/L/N Y/N and Kim Namjoon are sent on an expedition to gather information on the gorillas of West Africa, they aren’t expecting anything but — and yet, are met with none other than Jeon Jungkook.
Rating: NSFW
Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 8th.
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Abstract Thought: by @milktbaby​​
Movie: Inside Out
Starring: Emotion OT7 and Student Reader
Summary: When Y/L/N Y/N is leaving her hometown of Busan for university, she is faced with a series of unexpected events that make her realize she’s not where she needs to be.
Rating: NSFW
Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 31st.
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You’re never too old to find yourself wishing upon a star.
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an-annyeoing-writer · 3 years
Text
vulnerability. – chap. 1.
Read the prologue here
Story info:
Pair: Byun Baekhyun x Reader
Rating: +18 for mentions of s*x and violence (future chapters)
Genre: angst, smut
Chapter info:
Release date: 16th May 2021
Word count: 3 727
Warnings: mentions of trauma (nothing descriptive)
Vulnerability Masterlist || Fanfiction Masterlist || Ko-Fi
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Taglist:
@shesdreaminginoverdose @mybiasdashboard @marimsun @byuns-asscheeks @multi--kpop--fanfics @vunv @making-me-blush @skittlez-area512 @bloopbloopkai @byuns-asscheeks @baekyeonoreo @kimcarinaa
Please, always comment on the newest chapter if you wish to be added to/removed from the taglist. I will be also checking the tags, so if you're shy – feel free to leave a note this way.
Previous (Prologue)
Chap. 1.
Living in a small apartment close to the city center was not always convenient.
You regretted you couldn’t buy all the pretty things that you saw in stores or on Pinterest, because they’d easily overwhelm the limited space. Your neighbors constantly reminded you that they’re a few meters away from you, with screams, children’s cries, music, or chopping meat at 2 AM if that’s what a particular neighbor decided to do.
Fortunately, as the time passed, you got used to most of it and started to appreciate the small space, almost effortless to keep clean, close to both your university and the workplace, and the city center – an area that was always restless during the long days and nights that you spent watching it through your tall window, as if waiting for someone to look back at you.
Despite the comfort of living alone that you tried to indulge in, you couldn’t help growing lonelier and lonelier with every passing day. At the very least, your job and university often took the worries off your mind, and they eventually became your whole life, an existence that focused on never-ending effort in the name of better future, as though there was nothing in the present worth fighting for.
You studied finance; you didn’t give it much hope at first, but it ended up becoming interesting as you started connecting the dots and realizing how broad and important this topic was. Yet, as any newborn financier, you used your secret knowledge in the mysterious field of retail. In other words, you worked part-time as a cashier in a convenience store. Twenty four years old, on your way to getting that famous Master’s degree, already more than halfway through the process, yet – education without experience mattered nothing, as you realized the very moment you started looking for your first job, unable to keep counting on your parents. Not like you wanted to stay in touch with them, anyway.
Adulthood was difficult; the small apartment, due to its location, costed more than your whole family’s used to in your hometown. A small scholarship kept you set up with electricity and water fees, but for WiFi you needed to depend on a close-by library with a good signal; it turned out to have the connection good enough to reach from at least one place in your apartment, the one you coincidentally used for occasional observations. You weren’t sure whether you discovered the WiFi while sitting or if you developed the observing habit upon having to spend your time there over any other place. The only downside of this solution was that some sites were blocked after a scandal over men in the library performing actions other than polite studying, with the help of library computers. The event was outrageous to some, but primarily it became an object of jokes and memes all thorough the city, and maybe even country-wide to some extent. Either way, in times of need, your phone still had its meager data transfer. Good enough.
It was Saturday now; Saturdays were good but busy, because you worked at nights, then slept the shift off, and after you woke up, you could go and study all that you missed throughout the week, if for any reason the classes didn’t sound appealing enough or something else happened, distracting you from them. You spent Saturday afternoons either by the window of your room (where the WiFi reached) or just went straight to the library – a place way more spacious than your own apartment, and quieter as well. The only issue was, that you couldn’t snack in there and you ought to stay quiet. You decided to go with the latter and set foot towards the library.
Therefore, when your phone suddenly rang there, a few faces snapped towards you in obvious disapproval; you cursed internally, before you even managed to pull the phone out of your pocket, because you panicked so much that your hands shook at the initial attempt to do so. You got up from your seat and quickly disappeared between the bookshelves, where the people staying by the tables wouldn’t hear you so well anymore.
“Hello?” you whispered into the phone.
“Hello. Am I disturbing you?”
Your heart dropped as you recognized the voice, although you weren’t completely certain if you recognized it well, it sounded a bit different through the phone. The number was unknown on your phone, but there was only one person that could be calling you today.
You took a few seconds to compose yourself; less than you actually needed, but just enough so that the silence would not turn awkward.
“Um… I can’t talk loudly, but that’s okay.”
“I can call you later.”
“N-no need to, I’ll just whisper.”
“Okay, then.” He was quiet for a few seconds, but you heard some shuffling on the other side. “Do you have time tonight?”
The question was sudden, so you weren’t completely sure, if you did. But your mind felt too empty to figure that out, anyway.
“No. I mean, yes. Sorry, I meant I don’t have plans. So, um, yes, I’m free.” This didn’t sound professional at all. However, you heard quiet laughter on the other side and exhaled almost audibly in relief; it was the first time you heard him laugh with you, and it served to calm your nerves like a wave of calmness coming over you.
“Well, do you want to meet? I’m going to a museum and I don’t feel like going alone. What about that?”
“A museum? That… sounds nice.” When was the last time you’ve been to one? What a perfect opportunity to make a fool out of yourself. “What time?”
“Around six? If that’s okay with you.” If you remembered well, it had to be around three now.
“Sounds alright, where should we meet?”
“I’ll pick you up.”
“Okay. Thank you.” What were you exactly thanking him for? Hard to tell. But you heard him laugh again; you felt like he’s mocking you, but you quickly realized it couldn’t be the case – a warm voice like this couldn’t be ill-intended.
“Sure thing, you’re welcome. We’re set up, then?”
“A-actually, I have a question, if it’s not a problem.” You bit on your lip, knowing than in less than ten seconds, you were going to probably embarrass yourself in front of an educated and serious adult.
“What’s the matter?” he asked politely.
“So, um… What should I wear?”
* * *
You were grateful for the few tips given by Byun Baekhyun at the end of your conversation, because otherwise you’d either be underdressed or overdressed. You ended up wearing a more elegant university attire, something you usually wore for exams, but which didn’t make you appear too formal; a long, woolen skirt that was your private treasure due to its ability to keep you warm even in winter (and it was still spring; the weather was questionable), as well as leather shoes, a beige shirt and a thick, knitted cardigan. You felt quite modest; something told you that it wasn’t a regular date. You didn’t feel a need to reveal anything, or to focus on your feminine attributes. You just felt like it wouldn’t serve any purpose. As long as Baekhyun was concerned, you had an impression that he’s more interested in your mind than in the way you look – the clothes you wore last time, just a little bit revealing and suggestive, had done nothing to save you. You wanted only to look appropriate, and you were sure you managed to achieve at least that.
As you found out soon enough, he wasn’t particularly dressed up, either. A button-up shirt without without a tie – bow or neck type – and jeans, made of high-quality denim, not like the ripped through or worn out ones people sometimes wore. And a suede coat. Although he wasn’t dressed up to look attractive, it would be difficult not to feel attracted to him. Byun Baekhyun had his own aura of independence and considerate distance connected with subtle proximity, and this time, you had the chance to appreciate this harmony, working perfectly for him, highlighting his soft masculinity. Even more so, when you noted a small, gentle smile that appeared on his lips when he spotted you leaving your apartment block.
“Hi there” he spoke.
“Hi there” you replied.
“The museum is nearby, so I didn’t take the car, is that okay?”
It was probably too late to change the means of transport anyway, so the question was pointless. But no, you didn’t mind.
“It’s okay. What museum are we going to?”
He put hands in the pockets of his coat and tilted his head to the side, observing as you approached. You crossed your hands over your chest; it was a bit colder than you expected, and the skirt only warmed you up at the bottom, the wind still reached the top.
“You should put on something warmer. It’ll get even colder on the way back” he spoke. “Go back and get yourself a jacket, I’ll wait.”
You wanted to oppose and say it’s alright, but you didn’t; it didn’t feel right to argue with him. You only nodded and went home to retrieve a better outwear; you were back in no time.
“So? Which museum?”
You looked up at Baekhyun: the man walked by your side, or – in fact – you were walking by his; he stayed in control of the situation, but resonated with warmth and peacefulness rather than the coldness and stillness you experienced last time. And especially as he spoke, you found yourself easing into the conversation more naturally, and your initial fear quickly turned into innocent shyness upon the older man’s presence.
“A complex of museums nearby. There’s everything there, a historical museum of the region, one about the history of mining worldwide, and an art museum. I wanted to see the last one, I heard they unveiled a few new pieces since the the last time I went. You’re not local?” He glanced at you with polite curiosity.
“Not really. I moved here to study” you explained. “I know the nearby area, but I’m not too… um, social. I only know where to do the cheapest groceries and where they sell the best bread.”
“Where?”
“Behind the river, by the intersection with the highway. It looks small but really, you should try it out. Especially their cinnamon rolls.”
Baekhyun hummed.
“That sounds nice. I can recommend the best pizza in return.”
“You eat takeouts often?”
“Yep.”
“You’d save money if you cooked for yourself. Pizzas are expensive.”
Another warm laugh reached your ears, and through them, your heart as well.
“I’ll save money if I spend the time for cooking on working instead.”
“Okay, that’s a valid point. But homemade food is healthier.”
“Depends on where you buy your takeout.” He seemed to have an answer to your every doubt. “I wouldn’t trust just any restaurant, you know? It’s basically what my diet consists of.”
“Variety is also important. Don’t argue with me on that.”
“I won’t. But I won’t take you for a pizza, if that’s your stance on that.”
“I didn’t say I don’t want it” you remarked right away; he replied with laugh, which you found yourself copying naturally.
The conversation flowed smoothly, reaching more or less unimportant topics: the city life, current events, your university, possible career, Baekhyun’s interests – you found out he likes music; it’s too sad to work in silence – and the museum you were going to.
The place you felt initially quite neutral about, brought you more peace than you expected it to. It looked harmonious and the lights were soft. No one hurried through the gallery, and the paintings, although not so interesting at first, you soon learned to appreciate, trying to catch onto small details that, you could tell, Baekhyun already knew by heart, but he smiled every single time you pointed at something specific that caught your attention, even if it was as silly as matching colors, or realistically portrayed lights – these were your favorites.
And, slowly but surely, you got accustomed to the pretty sights, excitement turning into relaxation, and even Baekhyun himself seemed more content than you thought he’d be in your presence.
“You’re different,” you spoke as the two of you sat on a bench in front of one of the tall, monumental pieces; this one was a modern painting full of splashes and mixed colors, soft browns, yellows, and greens, so big that it definitely wouldn’t fit in your bedroom – the first thought you had upon seeing its size.
Despite the painting being in the very center of the gallery, you were the only ones watching it now.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re different today than you were yesterday” you elaborate. “Less… intimidating” you tried to put your thoughts into words.
Baekhyun laughed in response; the laughter was soft and warm, which made you exhale in relief – you feared that he’d feel offended at the remark.
“Yesterday was different. I needed to test you.”
“What do you mean?”
He stared at the painting as he leaned forward, resting elbows on his knees and shifting a little bit, probably thinking how to say the thing he had to say, without causing misunderstandings. You stared at him, completely having lost interest in the painting by now, ready to hear out whatever was to be spoken.
“People often come to me because they’re attracted to me. Well, not blaming them” he grinned; you rolled your eyes a little, but it did relieve the tension, most likely according to his own intention. “However, I’m not interested in romantic relationships. If you come to me expecting a date, you’ll get disappointed. And you won’t be able to handle what it is truly about, if I’m the only thing keeping you interested. It’ll be a hassle for the both of us.”
He glanced at you only briefly, ensuring that you’ve heard him so far before shifting his eyes back forward.
“So I’m always like this at first, just to see how determined you are, and how you behave under pressure. Then I leave you for a few minutes so you have the time to reconsider and leave if willing. That’s a safety measure for you.” He stopped for just a few seconds. “And you – all of you – always check what’s on the other side of the sheet. That’s a safety measure for me.”
“Safety measure?”
“Trust is the basis of the whole deal. If you don’t admit, that you looked at it, it means you’ll keep hiding things later on as well, and I can’t have that.”
“So if I…”
“Yes. If you didn’t correct your statement, we wouldn’t be here right now.” The words sounded ominous even despite the calm tone that Baekhyun used.
“I understand.”
You actually did; the strange aura of yesterday’s meeting finally started to clear out, leaving the simplest facts that all fit into the bigger picture. Yet, you still didn’t know enough. There were more things, more questions, each of which demanded an answer of its own. However, you were still unsure of your stance, and of what Baekhyun had planned for you – for the both of you.
“Will you accept me, then?” you asked finally, breaking through the silence.
“I don’t know yet” he replied in an honest tone, finally reciprocating your gaze. His features were soft, you could tell, he tried not to hurt you with his words. “You’re a nice girl, but I’m not sure if it’ll work out. I need more time. Primarily, I need to get to know you better. And I feel like you need more time, too.”
You nodded slowly.
“Could you, um… tell me more about it?”
“About what I do?”
“Yeah. You didn’t tell me much last time. You mostly only asked questions.”
“True. I may answer some of yours, if you’d like. What are you interested in?”
You cleared your throat; some questions seemed more intrusive than the others and you preferred to leave them for later.
“What would you want to do with me, if we set up a um… a scene?” Is that how you professionally call it? You didn’t remember all that well; you were, in fact, with no experience, only the Internet and your own curiosity to lead you forward – the temptation to explore your interests had been progressing in silence up until now.
“Well, depends on what would be suitable. I do different things with different people. Sometimes, it’s about what they like, and sometimes about what I like, and, the most often, it’s about what we both like. Everyone needs a different approach. I enjoy finding the right approach, and exploring it. It’s different when you start with a virgin, different when you start with a brat, different when you start with someone experienced, different when you start with someone with trauma. The last type is a person I don’t like engaging in. It’s a vulnerable ground and the person often seeks relief instead of therapy. I’m not a therapist. I’m a dominant.”
You took your time to analyze his words and put them all together in your head before you spoke again.
“You wrote something like that on the sheet. That I may have trauma.”
“That’s different,” Baekhyun was quick to elaborate. “Everyone has trauma of sort. Childhood traumas are more common than you think. I meant specifically trauma that comes from similar ground as the one I’m on. It’s not the case for you. According to what you said, you’ve never had any experiences like this and never engaged sexually or romantically.”
Pointing that out hurt a little; yes, so what if you’re 24 years old and a virgin? You had the right to choose your pace. But, you quickly realized, it was your own insecurity poking at you, because Baekhyun sounded anything but judgmental. He didn’t seem particularly impressed either – and you were thankful for that as well. You’ve seen enough men sounding excited when a woman was discovered to be unexperienced. You hated that even more than those who made fun of you; and in the long run, you just learned not to overshare. Telling Baekhyun this truth wasn’t the easiest, so having him say it so casually was definitely weird in your ear.
“However, that’s also a vulnerable point. You don’t know what you’re getting into. It looks different on the screen or in the books than it is in real life. I’m not going to reject you just because you’re new, because everyone’s been at some point. But you must understand, it’s a responsibility, and I don’t want to take one I’m not capable of handling.”
“Have you ever been with someone else like that?”
“With a virgin?”
“…Yeah.”
“Yes. Once. But I didn’t handle it too well back then.”
“What do you mean?”
Baekhyun rubbed his chin, pressing his lips together in slight uneasiness. But you didn’t revoke your question – maybe you should have, for the sake of his comfort, but you felt that the answer wouldn’t be meaningless to you.
“She wanted to be exclusive,” the man finally answered. “I tolerated her for too long. I should have broken the deal as soon as I started seeing red flags, instead of ending up sleeping with her. It made everything only worse.” He spoke quietly, making sure people passing by at times would hear no word. You heard everything clearly, though. “That’s why I’m more picky now. Breaking the deal is not a good thing if it comes from one side. It may leave the other devastated, that’s why I’d rather reduce the risk in advance.”
He looked at your face, seeking understanding and acceptance. You nodded slowly, trying to keep your face as neutral as possible. You didn’t want to add to the pain already displayed on his own. But you appreciated his transparency.
“Does it mean that sex is not always involved?”
“With me, it rarely is” he admitted patiently. “I’m not against it, but I usually do other things. People rarely expect it, and I never pry. Mainly, because in this particular case, I do expect exclusivity. So, as long as no sex is involved, I know some of my subs are dating other people, or even engaging with other doms. However, for safety reasons I demand health checks prior to intercourse, and so on. Not just for me, but because I’m not exclusive myself.” You wondered if his choice of vocabulary was meant to make things less awkward. “However, actual sex is only one of the possibilities. Sexual pleasure that doesn’t involve direct touch may be used as a tool for training, for rewarding and for punishing, even as entertainment… not necessarily to the person it influences. As I said, it depends on who it’s done with. And it may take different forms, too. What’s your stance on that?”
“I don’t feel like I’d be able to as much as undress in front of someone who’s not my doctor” you answered almost instantly, the answer obvious to you, a matter you’ve thought about enough. “Although… well, I suppose it takes time. I’m not against the idea, just… you know.”
Baekhyun only nodded; you glanced at him, feeling a need for any reply that’d soothe you a little.
“I understand. That’s okay.”
You figured it out now; using more formal language made it less embarrassing to listen to. It’s like he tore the words off emotions and left facts only, and you found yourself easing into saying more and more, your embarrassment dissolving as well. No judgments were made.
“Is there anything else you want to know?”
“A lot, to be honest. But I think I know enough for now.”
Right as you said the last words, a sound echoed in the museum, in a soft female voice saying that the museum will close in fifteen minutes.
You took one last glance at the huge painting in front of you, but you felt like, at this point, you wouldn’t find anything new among the random stains and splatters. Baekhyun got up from his seat on the bench and so did you. You spotted him hide a small yawn behind his hand.
The day was coming to an end, and so was your small date – as un-date-ish as it could be.
* * *
Please, reblog if you enjoyed, it'll help me a bunch!
Author's note: hope you're enjoying it so far! Trying to give it a bit sense before more things happen, and, hopefully, this chapter clears it out a little bit. Feel free to talk to me if anything is unclear!
Next (Chapter 2.)
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madmensideblog · 3 years
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MAD MEN BOOK RECS
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Happy pride/Don Draper’s fake birthday ❤️ Below the cut, I’ve listed info on my favorite Mad Men related books and a couple I haven’t read yet but I’m really looking forward to. Let me know if you check any of these out, or if you have any other recommendations! ❤️
Mad Men Carousel: The Complete Critical Companion by Matt Zoller Seitz
“Mad Men Carousel is an episode-by-episode guide to all seven seasons of AMC's Mad Men. This book collects TV and movie critic Matt Zoller Seitz’s celebrated Mad Men recaps—as featured on New York magazine's Vulture blog—for the first time, including never-before-published essays on the show’s first three seasons. Seitz’s writing digs deep into the show’s themes, performances, and filmmaking, examining complex and sometimes confounding aspects of the series. The complete series—all seven seasons and ninety-two episodes—is covered.
Each episode review also includes brief explanations of locations, events, consumer products, and scientific advancements that are important to the characters, such as P.J. Clarke’s restaurant and the old Penn Station; the inventions of the birth control pill, the Xerox machine, and the Apollo Lunar Module; the release of the Beatles’ Revolver and the Beach Boys’ Pet Sounds; and all the wars, protests, assassinations, and murders that cast a bloody pall over a chaotic decade.
Mad Men Carousel is named after an iconic moment from the show’s first-season finale, “The Wheel,” wherein Don delivers an unforgettable pitch for a new slide projector that’s centered on the idea of nostalgia: “the pain from an old wound.” This book will soothe the most ardent Mad Men fan’s nostalgia for the show. New viewers, who will want to binge-watch their way through one of the most popular TV shows in recent memory, will discover a spoiler-friendly companion to one of the most multilayered and mercurial TV shows of all time.”
A classic episode-by-episode look at the series from reviewer Matt Zoller Seitz.
The Legacy of Mad Men — Cultural History, Intermediality and American Television (Edited by Karen McNally, Jane Marcellus, Teresa Forde, and Kirsty Fairclough)
“For seven seasons, viewers worldwide watched as ad man Don Draper moved from adultery to self-discovery, secretary Peggy Olson became a take-no-prisoners businesswoman, object-of-the-gaze Joan Holloway developed a feminist consciousness, executive Roger Sterling tripped on LSD, and smarmy Pete Campbell became a surprisingly nice guy. Mad Men defined a pivotal moment for television, earning an enduring place in the medium’s history.
This edited collection examines the enduringly popular television series as Mad Men still captivates audiences and scholars in its nuanced depiction of a complex decade. This is the first book to offer an analysis of Mad Men in its entirety, exploring the cyclical and episodic structure of the long form series and investigating issues of representation, power and social change. The collection establishes the show’s legacy in televisual terms, and brings it up to date through an examination of its cultural importance in the Trump era. Aimed at scholars and interested general readers, the book illustrates the ways in which Mad Men has become a cultural marker for reflecting upon contemporary television and politics.”
This is a really beautiful collection. It was published in 2019. It’s rather expensive. (I found a used copy for much cheaper.) If you can afford it, I really, really recommend buying it. There is a pdf floating around if you know where to look though. But like I said, it’s really amazing work and the women who curated it deserve high praise and compensation.
A few favorite essays of mine include “Don Draper and the Enduring Appeal of Antonioni’s La Notte” by Emily Hoffman, “Mad Men’s Mid-Century Modern Times” by Zak Roman, “Mad Men and the Staging of Literature via Ken Cosgrove and His Problems” by Aaron Shapiro, and “What Jungian Psychology Can Tell Us About Don Draper’s Unexpected Embrace of Leonard in Mad Men’s Finale” by Marisa Carroll.
Mad Men and Philosophy: Nothing Is as It Seems (Edited by William Irwin, James B. South, and Rod Carveth)
“With its swirling cigarette smoke, martini lunches, skinny ties, and tight pencil skirts, Mad Men is unquestionably one of the most stylish, sexy, and irresistible shows on television. But the series becomes even more absorbing once you dig deeper into its portrayal of the changing social and political mores of 1960s America and explore the philosophical complexities of its key characters and themes. From Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle to John Kenneth Galbraith, Milton Friedman, and Ayn Rand, Mad Men and Philosophy brings the thinking of some of history's most powerful minds to bear on the world of Don Draper and the Sterling Cooper ad agency. You'll gain insights into a host of compelling Mad Men questions and issues, including happiness, freedom, authenticity, feminism, Don Draper's identity, and more.”
This collection was published just a month before the start of season 4, so it only concerns the first three seasons of the show. As such, it includes some assumptions that are proven false and a few strange misreadings that I’m sure would’ve been cleared up had they had the rest of the show at their disposal. But there are some great philosophical insights and analysis.
I haven’t yet read the whole collection, but my favorite essay of what I’ve read so far was “Pete, Peggy, Don, and the Dialectic of Remembering and Forgetting” by John Fritz.
The Fashion File: Advice, Tips, and Inspiration from the Costume Designer of Mad Men (by costume designer Janie Bryant)
From Joanie's Marilyn Monroe-esque pencil skirts to Betty's classic Grace Kelly cupcake dresses, the clothes worn by the characters of the phenomenal Mad Men have captivated fans everywhere. Now, women are trading in their khakis for couture and their pumas for pumps. Finally, it's hip to dress well again. Emmy-Award winning costume designer Janie Bryant offers readers a peek into the dressing room of Mad Men, revealing the design process behind the various characters' looks and showing every woman how to find her own leading lady style--whether it's vintage, modern, or bohemian. Bryant's book will peek into the dressing room of Mad Men and reveal the design process behind the various characters' looks. But it will also help women learn how fashion can help convey their personality. She will help them cultivate their style, including all the details that make a big difference. Bryant offers advice to ensure that a woman's clothes convey her personality. She covers everything from where to find incredible vintage clothing and accessories to how to pair those authentic pieces with modern shoes and jeans. Readers will learn how to find their perfect bra size, use color to convey a mood, and invest in the ten essentials every woman should own. And just so the ladies don't leave their men behind, there's even a section on making them look a little more Don Draper-dashing.
I recently ordered a used copy of this book and haven’t yet received it, but I’m very much looking forward to it. Like Mad Men and Philosophy listed above, it was published between season 3 and 4, so unfortunately does not cover the whole show. It sounds like it might just cover the women’s costume design, though I’m not sure. Janie Bryant is such a meticulous, genius costume designer that I can’t wait to read it. Relatedly, you should follow her incredible costume design instagram where she posts lots of her work from Mad Men and other shows with fascinating insight into her process.
The Universe is Indifferent: Theology, Philosophy, and Mad Men (Edited by Ann W. Duncan and Jacob L. Goodson)
Centered on the lives of the employees at a Manhattan advertising firm, the television series Mad Men touches on the advertising world's unique interests in consumerist culture, materialistic desire, and the role of deception in Western capitalism. While this essay collection has a decidedly socio-historical focus, the authors use this as the starting point for philosophical, religious, and theological reflection, showing how Mad Men reveals deep truths concerning the social trends of the 1960s and deserves a significant amount of scholarly consideration. Going beyond mere reflection, the authors make deeper inquiries into what these trends say about American cultural habits, the business world within Western capitalism, and the rapid social changes that occurred during this period. From the staid and conventional early seasons to the war, assassinations, riots, and counterculture of later seasons, The Universe is Indifferent shows how social change underpins the interpersonal dramas of the characters in Mad Men.
I only just found out about this collection, but I’m very interested in finding a copy. This was published in 2016. You can see the table of contents here. EDIT: This book is available to read on Scribd. They offer a 30 day free trial.
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otterskin · 4 years
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Dumb Details From the Loki Trailer I noticed but then got too serious about
First - apparently it’s not a trailer, so I guess we’ll get ‘Trailer 1′ later? ‘Exclusive Clip’ hardly seems accurate, but hey, I’m not Disney’s marketing division. I wouldn’t live in a shoebox if I was.
Dumb detail no. 1:
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Owen Wilson’s jacket is...weird. Look closely.
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And another shot:
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Yeah...his jacket has a ‘reversed collar’. It’s a cut-out rather than cloth folding on top. Huh. What a strange design choice. What could it mean?
I’ve no idea, but that I watched the trailer enough times to notice this should concern you.
Detail No. 2
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In this scene, we see what we can presume to be President Loki’s ‘Throne’. Notice the candy-canes. This is a Santa Claus throne, presumably from some mall Santa. This whole place might be in a mall, judging by the stuff in it.
But the Loki in this shot is not President Loki. Notice that he’s wearing brown pants, a thin brown tie, and the beige shirt he’s seen wearing in other parts of the trailer after he's apparently joined the TVA. President Loki wears black pants, a green vest and a wide green tie with a golden clip that resembles Loki’s little chevron he always has (more on that later).
So it would seem that Loki might meet President Loki here. President Loki might even be addressing him at the end of the trailer. It’s possible that his minions turn on him because there’s two Lokis and they don’t know which is the ‘imposter’. 
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Speaking of, there’s a minion with bicycle handlebars grafted to a football helmet here, likely meant to resemble Loki. I dig it. There’s also cans of food scattered among the rubbish here. Makes sense that food production is non-existent since everyone has resorted to wearing license plates and spoons. Love how tattered the whole aesthetic is.
This reminds me of the opening Michael Waldron’s script ‘Worst Guy of All Time’, which featured a similar post-apocalyptic setting after the ‘worst guy’ ruins everything and makes himself king of the ashes. That’s likely what’s happened here, but I hope that Loki isn’t anything like Logan Paul, who was the inspiration for that title character.
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Ah, the mysterious female character watching a meteor shower WAY TOO CLOSE UP. But my eyes are drawn to one thing...
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What is that oblong object with a shiny handle? Could it be...
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A sword? I do love swords. Did you know there’s a bunch of pictures of me in the stock photos for ‘Fencing?’ That’s my cred for loving swords.
I suspect that this female character will be an amalgamation of Amora (shudder) and Sylvie and an alternate Loki of some kind. This sword is currently in her possession, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it or another timeline version of it becomes the Loki Show’s Loki′s weapon. 
Loki has lacked a ‘weapon of his own’ in the MCU for quite some time. I mean, yes, he has his little knives, but they are many and disposable and something he chose for himself, rather than the two legendary weapons wielded by Odin and Thor, Gungnir and Mjolnir. In fact, throughout his appearances, Loki has seemed to want such a thing of his own - he briefly had Gungnir, and then the Gungnir-like scepter, and even tried to lift Mjolnir.
One might ask why Odin would’ve overlooked such an obvious show of favouritism. Why give Thor a storied weapon and leave Loki empty-handed? Heck, even Hela had the Necroblade.
In Thor 1, we might’ve assumed that the Casket of Ancient Winters was perhaps intended one day to be given to Loki, as it is shown with Mjolnir in the Vault and thus connected to it and the children who would inherit it.  But in the comics, Odin did have another weapon of storied history put away for his second son: Gram the Sword.
It was locked for eons by Odin in a special vault which required five keys to be opened, and it was meant to be for Loki if he be worthy.[2] The five keys were infused by Odin with the powers of "journeys", "endurance", "secrets", "new beginnings", and "brotherhood", respectively.[3]
The sword, like everything else in comics, has a complicated history full of take-backs and twists, but let’s just leave it at ‘it’s a representation of Loki’s worthiness and belonging in the trifecta with Odin and Thor as a King of Asgard’. It gives him ‘equality’.
In the original mythology, it’s wielded by Sigurd to kill the dragon Fafnir, and the only relation it has to Loki is that Loki is partially responsible for Fafnir existing in the first place (my username is nod to this myth by the by. Sorry Ottär.) But hey, maybe that means we’re getting a dragon? The Fafnir would be very cool.
Or it could just be a bit of rebar in this mining quarry.
Then again...it appears somewhere else...
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It’s easier to see in motion, but that’s a sword swinging on this person’s back.
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So the hooded figure is this lady...shall we call her Amylkie? Does that mean she’s the antagonist of this show? Well...maybe, but I suspect the true antagonist is foreshadowed here  -
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So, what’s going on here? A young girl (Young Amylkie? Some other TVA prisoner that the guard is watching over? An oracle, A Norn, or a kid who wandered off from the tour group in a basilica somewhere?) She’s giving Mobius M. Mobius a...piece of chocolate. Maybe he saw a Dementor, I dunno. I suspect it’ll be a MacGuffin of some kind later. He looks pretty concerned here, which contrasts with his ‘another day at the office’ blaséness when dealing with Loki. But of course this is the eye-catcher:
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So, Norse Mythology. It’s been Christiannized. You can thank Snorri Sturluson for that, but you can google all about him later. Let’s just say that he made many Norse figures into equivalents for Christian ones. Baldur is Jesus, pure and a sacrificial lamb who dies for a greater good. And the devil is...Loki. Something the Marvel comics and the MCU have continued.
Here we have a devil, dressed in green and with a distinct shape on his chest:
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Hmmm...wait...I know that weird horny shape...
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Ah. I’d say that cinches it. This is meant to be Loki. If you look at the devil’s hair, it also resembles Loki’s, being shoulder-length and black.
So, what’s devil-Loki doing? Laying an egg? Trying out a foot massager? For a second I thought it was a moon, but we see the moon over his left shoulder, amongst the stars. Which means this is - probably the Earth.
...Dammit; I live there.
So Earth is barren and being devoured by flames, likely caused by this Loki sitting atop of it (in a throne, no less). Aw gee, things look pretty bad, don’t they?
But wait - what’s that? Under the Earth (and, possibly, under the earth)?
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It’s a plant. A shoot, to be exact.
Back to Ragnarok for a second. Ragnarok isn’t the apocalypse (something we see a lot of in this trailer - all of it seems to be exploring the end of days). Ragnarok is the fire meant to wipe out the old and fertilize the ground for the new. And after the gods have died, what happens? Well, Baldur emerges from Hel, one of the only surviving gods (hmm, seems him dying worked out, didn’t it?). He’s joined by Líf and Lífþrasir, who are the new first man and woman, who’s names mean ‘Life’ and who are pictured, usually, with plants and new life. It is they who are tasked who growing a new Yggdrasil after the destruction of the old. The previous first man and woman are Ask and Embla, meaning Ash Tree and Vine/Elm tree, so there’s a theme there. 
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So a new sprout, possibly a tree, growing out of the destruction of the old.
This fits with Loki’s role as understood in mythology. He checks the arrogance of the gods, including when they tried to achieve immortality (sorry, Baldur, nothing personal), and that keeps the gods at their best. After Loki is imprisoned, the gods become weak, unhelpful and foolish, and Yggdrasil starts to rot. Eventually Loki escapes and returns along with Surtur (who also resembles this figure) to burn it all to the ground. This is also referenced in Thor:Ragnarok, with Loki releasing Surtur in the Vault, a place of thematic importance to Loki and one that represents the hidden secrets and sins of Asgard). You could say Ragnarok continued into Infinity War, where Loki played an important part in aiding Thanos’ destruction, giving up the stone to protect his brother and essentially dooming the rest of the universe - but also ultimately leading to its salvation, even if, like Myth Loki, he wasn’t around to see it.
So, we see Amylkie literally start a fire in the trailer -
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- in fact, this whole trailer is awash in flame -
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It’s fire, fire everywhere and she’s setting them!
It’s possible Amylkie’s our big bad, but I think there’s a chance she’s either a red herring, or, much like how Loki ‘worked’ with Thanos in The Avengers, she is the pawn of a greater foe -
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  - a Loki bent on destruction, for some reason or other. The TVA is obviously aware that this is the case, and it seems like they might be trying to ‘fight fire with fire’ by enlisting one Loki to combat another. The villain could be President Loki, since there's evidence of 2 Lokis in that scene - or maybe that's one of many Lokis, and the Big Bad Loki is being played by Hugh Grant as Old Loki. In any case, it would appear that Loki will be coming face-to-face with the worst versions of himself, and many of them. And, if I’m right about this scene:
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...Loki will likely eventually discover that even his ‘good’ timeline ended in the destruction of his people and home, plus his own gruesome and torturous death. Although I think the TVA will keep that from him, and just show him the happy parts in an effort to inspire ‘good behaviour’. Until Loki inevitably discovers the rest of how that timeline played out and realize he’s been lied to. I don’t imagine he’ll take that very well...
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Damn, even our ‘hero’ Loki is burning stuff down! Does this mean that Loki is doomed, always meant to be an avatar of death and toasty destruction?
Well...let’s go back to that stained glass.
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Hmmm...wait...I know that weird horny shape...
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And there’s something else...the bottom of the Earth is being lit up, and not by fire. Light appears to be coming off this little plant.
What colour is this plant again? That’s right, green. Green is the colour of new life and growth and change and...hang on, I’ve heard that before, too...
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Hang on hang on HANG ON... let me have a look at the shape again.
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That’s...a letter. An L? For Loki? Like in the title sequence?
Wait...no, a different letter. An older letter. After all, Loki is old Norse. How do you spell his name in that again?
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ᛚᛟᚲ ᛁ -
And ENHANCE on that third letter!
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This, my friends, is a Kenaz/Kaunaz, or what would become 'K' in our alphabet. It is also known as the 'Loki Rune' (and the Ulcer Rune, for some reason. I suspect Odin understands why). It’s used to spell his name, but is also used on his own to represent him. Heck, it's even his Superman 'S' in the comics:
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Runes are more than letters - they are symbols for concepts. So what else does it mean?
Primarly, it means ‘torch’.
And also ‘knowledge’ (ken). As well as ‘growth, change, the search for truth, decay, arrogance, elitism, feminine, kinship and creativity.’
...Okay, that’s a lot, but you have to admit it fits.
More specifically, it means ‘Mastery of the Fire’. As in, someone who has learned to tame fire so that it is helpful, not harmful. To bring light and, symbolically, knowledge.
There’s another way Loki’s been associated with fire - in the Wagner Ring Cycle, Das Rheingold, the opera that inspired much the Thor films’ aesthetic and certainly their helmets, Loki is called ‘Loge’, which means ‘Fire’. He’s usually dressed to match, too -
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Many trickster figures are associated with fire. They are usually called ‘Fire-bringers’ - See: Raven, Lucifer, Prometheus, etc. They are often complex figures with a foot in different worlds, but who nonetheless help mankind with the gift of ‘fire’ - although they usually pay for it, and tend to be self-destructive.
(Side note. Lucifer means light-bringer, which is what luciferase is named after. Because it glows. Which is helpful in labs. In case someone needed to know that.)
Moving from a destructive fire-starter to a fire-bringer seems like a great character arc for Loki to take, especially given his rehabilitation in pop culture, the comics, and even wider culture. Loki has gone from being seen as an evil, deviant, destructive character to one who’s seen as a patron of the arts and creativity, of stories rather than lies. Heck, some scholars of Norse Mythology even posit that he’s the closet thing to a protagonist Norse Mythology has, so I guess that backfired, Snorri!). Being dressed in green and with the sprout clearly also being stylized after his Kaunaz, there’s foreshadowing that he’ll be capable of growing good things even out of ashes.
So, to sum up: Being ‘Satan’ sounds pretty bad, but with a little letter re-arranging like we see in the title sequence, you can be...
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...practically a saint. Maybe even a saviour.
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Merry Christmas, everybody.
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roguishredaxion · 4 years
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My BnHA AU List
Sorry for the length. Fics that are currently available to read have links. To those of you mentioned in this post, I wanted to make sure people knew where the ideas originally came from. (And you’re all awesome anyway!)
Can't See The Forest For The Trees - Genderbent Midoriya Izuku who became a vigilante known as the Forest in Musutafu. Has been operating for five years dealing mostly with information gathering and dispersal and some smaller situations that crop up on the streets. Todoroki Shouto is on patrol in the area and takes an interest in the unknown vigilante after she helps out with a situation where he got in over his head. AO3
A Piece of Patchwork (Improperly Placed) - AU where Izuku and Aizawa swap places in canon. Izuku fights the hero system to become the first quirkless hero, graduating alongside Present Mic. He gets called in to help in a situation where the villain has the ability to steal quirks, five years before the start of canon, providing part of the back-up team for All Might. Part 1 is the battle against All for One, part 2 is an alternate ending to the fight. Part 3 is Izuku learning to use One for All, which was forcefully given to him by All Might at the end of the battle. Part 4 is the other half of the role swap, where Aizawa grows up alongside Bakugou and is trying to get into UA. AO3
The Fallacy of Greatness (AKA Tenth, in my files) - AU where the whole first year class of UA in canon is born 4 years later than in canon. All Might encounters a 10 year old Izuku who asks if he can be a hero. Even after rescuing Bakugou and proving his heroic spirit, All Might elects not to give One for All to a child as young as Izuku. Izuku, desperate for someone to believe in his dreams, realizes that he has to be his first believer and decides to take matters into his own hands and prepare for a future in heroism on his own. AO3
The Capture Scarf Caper - Based on an idea from @terrible-my-hero-academia-aus Izuku finds Aizawa's capture scarf discarded in an alley and takes it home. He figures out how to use it and becomes so proficient that it accidentally gets mistaken for a quirk. Deciding to capitalize on the strange bias he's come up against, he uses the capture scarf to get into Class 1-A. Unfortunately, this means his teacher is the original owner of his scarf. Suddenly his deception is a lot more desperate and precarious. Meanwhile, Aizawa is trying to figure out why his instincts are telling him to pay such close attention to this anxious kid. AO3
The Better Part of Valor - Suspected Traitor Izuku AU a la @gentrychild. After Aizawa discovers one of Izuku's hero analysis notebooks, he drags Izuku to an interrogation room trying to get him to confess to being the traitor in UA. Izuku comes to realize that several of his classmates were also made aware of this theory and have been feeding information on his movements to their teacher for a while. Betrayed, he starts to pull away from class, falling back into some of the same habits from middle school to go unnoticed and fall off of people's awareness. At some point, his classmates realize that he's no longer staying in the dorms, they only ever see him in class, and All Might is the only person he will voluntarily interact with.
Civil Disobedience - All Might doesn't track Izuku down after the slime incident, but Bakugou's parting words cut far deeper after the day he's had. Realizing that everyone talks about how great of a hero Bakugou will be, Izuku comes to the conclusion that he wants to be the exact opposite of what Bakugou is. He elects to become a villain who goes after and exposes corrupt heroes. Adopting the username Wasureta for his villain work, he collects information on heroes who aren't performing their job as they should and releases it to the court of public opinion, taking away the support that has kept them from being exposed before this. As he digs deeper into the cesspool of rotten heroes, he manages to collect enough information to rake Endeavor over the coals and ends up with an interesting new follower. Dabi, meanwhile, is shocked by the ruthless but polite teenager he found when he tried to find Wasureta and he's not sure if he's impressed by what the kid has accomplished on his own, or horrified by the scope of what he controls.
Hunting Prometheus - There is another quirkless student attending Aldera Middle School, but she wasn't born that way unlike Izuku. When she was seven, her quirk was stolen from her by a man with a smooth voice and a forgettable face and she's been existing in a state of carefully cultivated rage since that day. Before, she never even considered becoming a hero. Now her only goal is to become a hero so she can find that man and punch him in the face. (OC fic, obviously)
Lost Stars in an Indifferent Universe - Leverage AU, five parts, origin for each member of the team. Izuku is told to be realistic and he tries to be following his disastrous encounter with All Might. But realistic means that he has already exceeded the life expectancy of quirkless individuals, acknowledging the fact that no amount of studying or work will let him join a remotely helpful career, and he is stuck living with his mother while he wastes away as a janitor at a nearby middle school following the completion of his high school education. When he returns to a tall building he hadn't managed to convince himself to jump off of yet, he finds that the abandoned space has been taken over by a black market of sorts and gets folded into a world of grey morals and an underground economy based on merit instead of quirk. When he becomes aware of an illegal quirk experimentation operation and tries to blow the whistle, several attempts are made on his life in order to shut him up. Instead of disappearing, he gets angry and decides to collect a team to strike back and prove the shady shit the lab is up to. (Izuku=Mastermind, Shinsou=Grifter, Hatsume=Hacker, Shoji=Hitter, Eri=Thief)
Love and Other Things Not Bound By the Laws of Time - Mr. Peabody and Sherman AU. Nezu adopts a young Midoriya Izuku whose mother died shortly after he was diagnosed as quirkless. Determined to show his new son that one's quirk or lack thereof means nothing in the grand scheme of things, UA's principal develops the WABAC machine to travel through time and prove just how capable people were before quirks manifested. He indulges Izuku's passion and curiosity, encouraging him to look into as much or as little as he wants on any subject. It becomes clear that, while not supernaturally intelligent, Izuku is a genius whose ability to make connections and strategize is by far his greatest asset, especially as he still holds onto the goal of becoming a hero.
The Quiet Revolution (collab w/ my sister) - The Todoroki siblings need therapy. Instead of getting that therapy, they decide to meet up for dinner every Saturday night, begin a tradition where they burn their father in effigy each week, accidentally start a highly successful Minecraft YouTube channel, and generally cause the downfall of the existing hero system through the power of networking.
You Can Tell What I Am By The Lines In My Skin - BnHA/Naruto AU. Naruto dies in his own universe and is reborn into the My Hero Academia Universe as Midoriya Izuku. He remembers who he was, but his chakra, which followed him into this life, is always out of reach. He trains as best he can to keep up his regular ninja skills but can't break through the barrier separating him from his chakra. He still meets and trains under All Might. When he receives One for All, however, the sensation that fills him is entirely familiar. It breaks through the barrier as though it isn't even there, and settles inside like it's always been there. Honestly, he had been missing the angry furball anyway, so he was glad Kurama managed to follow him to this world. With access to his chakra again, the world is about to discover just how effective one shinobi can be in a world of heroes.
War Games - (Inspired by RogueDruid's Hero Class Civil Warfare and others similarly inspired by it.) A year-wide hero class exercise is announced. Bakugou is announced as the Hero leader while the villain leader's identity is kept secret. Izuku knows it's him before the letter appears in his room. The students are allowed to pick whichever side they want, but most choose the hero side, which has won the exercise every time it has been run. This year is no different. Todoroki realizes that Izuku is the villain leader and signs up with him. Izuku goes and recruits Momo and Monoma to his side. Then, after consulting the rules, he folds in Shinsou and Hatsume as well. Monoma plays decoy villain leader and attempts to collect a few more people, but they've already signed up for the hero side. Izuku, without explicitly saying that he's signed up with the hero team, gets folded into the hero strategy sessions since no one expected him to make a different choice. He proceeds to get "taken out" in the first villain assault, and most people don't realize what's happening until it's far too late.
Life's A Game (And I'm Player One) - AU in which Izuku realizes that he does have a quirk but can't tell anyone about it because a) he can't prove it and b) it could be dangerous if he talks about what he can see. His quirk, which he privately calls Stat Check, freezes time just for him in order to open up what looks like a video game character bio that explains a person's quirk, as well as containing vital statistics. It only works in person or on unaltered photographs with a person's face or a distinctive enough feature to identify them. As he gets older, more tabs are added to the bio, and he starts to notice signs above certain people's heads telling him what level he needs to be to fight them (he stops seeing these after receiving OfA, until he sees AfO in Kamino Ward). In pictures, only the first tab is available unless he took the picture while time was frozen, in which case all the tabs are accessible. Because of this, he has accordion folders filled with photographs of people instead of analysis notebooks.
Of Unpainted Fences and Raw Ingredients - Smart Izuku AU. He has been writing essays about hero society, morality, and several other issues since before UA, but he doesn't realize how much people are paying attention to them until the essays start becoming required reading for certain classes. Meanwhile, the teachers are desperate to get in contact with him, not expecting that the essayist they have been gushing over is sitting near the back of the class, trying not to blush.
In A Mirror Darkly - Aizawa is out on patrol with Shinsou and Midoriya when they are attacked and the boys are apparently obliterated by an enemy quirk. The rest of the class attempts to help Aizawa, but he blames himself for their deaths. It doesn't help that he keeps seeing flashes of them in the mirror out of the corner of his eye and could swear he heard one or both of their voices in the middle of the night. Meanwhile, Shinsou and Midoriya are stuck out of sync with the rest of the universe and can't communicate with anyone except Aizawa, and only through mirrors. Izuku figured out that they have maybe two weeks before they waste away since they can't interact with anything being stuck in this in-between space. The only way they can get out is for Aizawa, who was there when they de-synced, to touch them and bring them back in sync with the rest of the world.
Guerilla Tactics - Vigilante Class 1-A AU. After the slime villain debacle, Izuku runs away from Bakugou and the heroes. He literally runs into Todoroki Shouto and they commiserate about how the heroes have failed them. Realizing a bit late exactly who Shouto's father is and why he's trying to run away, Izuku offers to come up with a plan to help him get away cleanly. (This is sort of the worst timeline, where most of the good teachers aren't employed at UA, Nezu is not the principal, and the HPSC is in charge of almost everything.) The plan they come up with involves Shouto failing the recommended exam, then disappearing the day results arrive home. Izuku, meanwhile, attends the regular exam and sees how the whole points system benefits those with flashier quirks and easily aimed egos. He gets to talking with a lot of hero hopefuls and sort of steals them out from under UA when their applications are rejected. They move into an abandoned sector of outer Tokyo and start working as vigilantes. Dadzawa makes an appearance, as if summoned by the horde of teenagers with no form of parental guidance to speak of.
No Rest for the Wicked (Or The Damned) - Person Of Interest AU. Instead of apologizing to Izuku when he asked if he could still be a hero without a quirk, Inko points out the other ways he can be a hero, by building the things they would need to fight crime. Figuring that one of the main problems with villains is that no one knows when they're going to attack, Izuku creates an intelligent program that can assess a high volume of data and extrapolate when and where a villain attack will take place, and who the villain will be. When his mom is killed and he's badly injured in an attack his AI predicted, Izuku realizes that no one is taking his information seriously because he's quirkless. He decides to take matters into his own hands and reaches out to an unlikely helper. Dabi doesn't know why this kid decided he was the best option to stop a lot of the more violent crime he somehow knows is going to happen, but he promised and then delivered Endeavor's fall from grace, so he's willing to see where this goes.
Binary Stars - Slight Megamind AU. Before their respective planets were destroyed, Izuku and Bakugou were placed in small space pods and sent towards Earth. Bakugou's people were warriors who looked enough like humans that they intermarried (unbeknownst to humans), thus bringing about the first quirks. Izuku's people, however, are survivors. Their planet was populated by predators so their greatest asset was their ability to camouflage themselves. As Bakugou's people often hunted Izuku's people, they gained a sort of sixth sense for them, which is why Izuku's very presence pisses Bakugou off. (All for One is from Bakugou's planet. He was exiled for stealing power. The last power he stole was what he gave his brother, and the brother always resented him for getting them both sent away.) Izuku still receives OfA, and is the first of his species to have a quirk/power like that.
The Wings of Icarus - Spy AU. Todoroki Shouto works for Yuuei, an espionage agency run by his father. He's been training practically since birth, no thanks to his father, and is second in the spy business only to a person known as Icarus. When something goes wrong on a mission, he is rescued by a short man with freckles and deep green eyes shortly before he passes out. He is found at one of the entrances to Yuuei with a note from Icarus to the tune of "I think you lost this", making Shouto the only person to have actually seen Icarus. Meanwhile, Nezu is running a small but successful info brokerage out of a bakery with three kids he picked up off the streets years before: Izuku, Shinsou, and Hatsume. Codenames: Icarus, Psyche, and Daedalus, respectively. Nezu is known as Zeus.
Dark is the Night (Momo is Batman: version 1) ​ - Based on an idea from @terrible-my-hero-academia-aus​ . Momo loses her parents in a villain attack when she's eight. She throws herself into her studies in earnest, determined to be a hero. In the meantime, however, she has a hard time ignoring all of the hardship she sees on the streets, all of the crimes that go unanswered.  However, to duck the vigilantism laws and disguise her identity, she wears a suit that covers every part of her body (think Cassandra Cain as Batgirl) because no one would assume that someone with a creation quirk that needed exposed skin to function was under it. She produces everything she needs at home. Aizawa notices that there's someone off about Yaomomo, something fake. It isn't until he runs into her on patrol that he figures something out.
Used to the Darkness (Momo is Batman: version 2) - Based on an idea from @terrible-my-hero-academia-aus​ . Bruce Wayne was reincarnated as Yaoyorozu Momo. She remembers everything about her previous life, but she has adapt all of the fighting training she knows to her new female body. The intelligence and detective skills are useful in this new world, especially since a good portion of logic and deduction has fallen by the wayside for the majority of those in law enforcement. The quirk is something else to get used to, but it's highly effective at producing materials of various things needed for vigilantism. She's interested to see how far she can take the limits of the superpower this universe had given her. At the very least, she's more than capable of recreating the gear she had. Even though her parents haven't died in this universe, she still ends up going out at night and trying to help in whatever way she can. Upon meeting and befriending Todoroki Shouto, she realizes the good she can be in this universe. She attacked the corruption in Gotham wherever she could. Why shouldn't she be able to do the same here? The night is still dark and the people who hide in it are the same cowards they've always been. It's about time someone reminded them that the dark hides more than just their actions.
A Rose By Any Other Name (AKA the Haruhi AU) - Based on a prompt found on @rayshippouuchiha‘s blog. Midoriya Izumi is having trouble staying in uniform after starting middle school because her bullies have decided to step up the abuse a little bit and keep burning them. She had three sets of uniforms, and all three are burned by the third day of classes. What's more, the nurse doesn't have any spare girls uniforms and her teacher insists that she needs to be in uniform and not in her gym outfit. Since the nurse does have a boys uniform that would fit her, Izumi elects to follow her teacher's instructions and shows up in a boys uniform as she doesn't care as much about the clothes she's wearing as she does about following what her teacher said. Cue a gender identity crisis. AO3
Nothing But The Truth - Izuku is hit by a truth quirk while out on patrol and Aizawa is made to babysit him until it wears off. Although he tries to avoid more sensitive lines of questioning, Aizawa asks about his analysis notebooks and ends up accidentally learning about One For All, Izuku's life prior to receiving it, and what his Problem Child's true goals regarding heroism are. (Might become a series with this as a oneshot, or a multi-chapter story as originally planned.)
Panacea - Izuku has a hidden quirk his whole life, one that people didn't even consider could be a quirk. He has a super-powered immune system, and it can and will treat damaging quirks as an infection to fight. His burns from Bakugou's quirk heal faster and faster, emitter quirks used on him start to be less effective after the first couple of times until they don't work at all. He has the ultimate cure in his blood and no way to share it. And then he receives One For All, a powerful stockpiling quirk with a secondary aspect that makes it capable of passing from person to person regardless of heritage. Izuku doesn't realize it, but his invisible quirk got a free pass to start changing the world, one touch at a time. (Possible Dad For One) (Just had the stupid thought that Izuku's quirk is basically Cure For All)
Prototype - While getting scolded after the Slime Villain incident, an underground hero known as Prototype shows up and forces the other pros on the scene to back off. They then walk Izuku home (accidentally forcing him to miss All Might's offer). During the walk, Izuku confesses that he is giving up on his dream of being a hero since everyone says it's impossible. Prototype points out that Izuku was the only one on the scene who was thinking about a solution from more than one angle, which is a useful skill for an underground hero to have. They offer to take him on as their apprentice in the underground, promising that if he still wants to be a hero, an apprenticeship would be more flexible and faster than trying to become a hero through one of the heroics schools. They advise Izuku to think about it and discuss it with his mom, since he would probably be spending a lot of time training out of the house and not every parent is willing to let their child basically move in with someone they barely know. Izuku, after talking things over with his mom, decides to go for it, embarking on a totally different journey to being a hero than he ever expected.
Yesterday's Sunshine (A Storm On The Rise) - Based on @hey-hamlet's End of An Era AU in which the mind of a 19 year old Izuku fighting a losing battle against Paranormal Liberation Front and the League of Villains is sent back to his 14 year old body, a mere month after he started training with All Might. He is traumatized and trying to hide the fact that he is shocked to see the people he knows died walking around again, untouched and whole. He's determined to make everything better this time, to keep his loved ones from dying or betraying him in the worst ways. He also needs to try and stay ahead of the people around him, who are trying to figure out why this child who shouldn't have encountered many villains in his life, is so terrifyingly good at putting them down hard. (I'm considering adding an aspect of DFO.)
Searching for Tododeku - Or Five Times Shouto Tricks Midoriya Into A Date and One Time Midoriya Asks Him Instead. Featuring semi oblivious Izuku, Shouto stealth-competing for the title of supreme memelord with Kaminari, and a cameo of Endeavor's crippling addiction to tabloid magazines.
Planar Shift - An All For One-Izuku body swap just weeks prior to a fight that would have left AFO and All Might both greviously injured. Izuku is quick to realize that the person he ended up in doesn't seem to be a nice person (and he tries not to think about what it would mean if the person is in his body around Kacchan) and has a lot more quirks than a person should have. His childhood doctor is there, as is a strange boy with delicate skin, a disintegration quirk, and a love of video games but little else. Then there's the purple mist person who reads as both alive and dead to one of Izuku's new quirks. When he figures out that All Might is trying to track this villain down (and will probably think it's a trick if Izuku tries to explain his situation), he decides that he should get himself, the kid, and the not-dead-but-not-alive person out of there. He doesn't know how long he's going to be in this body, but he wants to be the hero those two need, even if he's technically a villain.
Environmental Damage - Hitman Izuku AU. When Izuku's mother is killed when he's young, he manages to track down the killer but the police won't take him seriously because he's quirkless. Neither will any of the heroes he approached with it. So instead he goes back to the criminal underground where he found most of his information and talks to an assassin who had a soft spot for him. Izuku agreed to become the man's apprentice so he can take out the person who killed his mother himself. After that, he starts selling his services to people who can't get out of bad situations, offering a much reduced rate compared to other contract killers. Then a kid his age with red and white hair approaches him about killing the Number Two hero.
Summertime and Seaglass - Aizawa keeps running into this mute homeless kid on his patrols. He's not sure what to make of him, except that he needs someone to care for him, especially as the nights are getting colder. Treating the kid a bit like an abused and feral cat, he starts taking food with him to offer the kid when they meet up. It's more or less an accident when he learns the kid's name is Midoriya Izuku, a child thought to be dead and burned three years before when he and his mother were caught in a villain attack that was ended violently by Endeavor. Aizawa wants to give Midoriya and all of the other victims of Endeavor's carelessness the justice they deserve, and maybe by the time he's done the kid will let him bring him in from the cold.
The Importance of Being Batman - (Based on an idea from @terrible-my-hero-academia-aus​ .) Izuku spends a lot of time on forums for quirkless people, getting support and advice from other people like him who don't have a quirk. He gets the attention of an old Admin, Toshinori, and they talk about heroics, pre-quirk comic books, and the importance of representation and symbols in modern media and culture. After failing to get into heroics in the entrance exam, Izuku shifts his focus slightly. Batman didn't have any special powers in the comics, but he was one of the best heroes in his universe. Izuku decides that if he can build the skills, knowledge and (most importantly) money to become his own version of Batman, that would be almost like being a hero. It's time that society learns that 'useless' is a matter of choice, not birth, and even someone who doesn't have a quirk can do incredible things.
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Morning! I hope you don't mind if i give you yet another She-Ra thought I'm too damn lazy to post on my own. Also, it's long again. I WILL find that character limit some day.
So, we know the way Shadow Weaver raised Adora resulted, among other issues, in her being selfless to the point of self-sacrifice, which came to a climax in the Heart's failsafe business.
And it's been suggested that this was basically intentional on Shadow Weaver's part. Basically, selflessness is a very beneficial quality for others to have. My theory is that <b>her plan for Adora had always been specifically for her to someday use the failsafe and release all magic</b>.
(i will admit i am also curious how formatting works in this app. thank you for your help with these experiments)
So, evidence. Let's start with her name. I know this is a remake and they were stuck with the existing names, but there's a scene where Scorpia complains about it ("yeah i GET it, everyone LOVES you"), which constitutes the writers acknowledging its meaning, which makes me think it's fair game to analyze.
First, I'm obviously assuming Shadow Weaver choose it, as part of her ongoing parenting plan. It's also possible it was her original First One-given name, we don't know. Neither quite works because either she or Light Hope should have had some issues knowing what the name was and they clearly knew automatically. Really the entire series is weird in that everyone communicates with everyone else way too easily, and i will definitely rant about that someday.
For now let it stand that Shadow Weaver is the parent figure, it makes the most sense for her to pick the name, both in-universe and narratively, so i shall assume so by default. I have two things to say about that choice.
First, as we all have noticed, most of the princesses have names ending in -a. All of them, if you count "Glimma". It's never said to be intentional, but it would make sense. And then IF such a tradition exists among Etheria's royalty, it's not unreasonable for Shadow Weaver, a notable and moderately respected member of the land of knowledge, to know about it.
And then if she knew, of course she would take it into consideration when looking for names. Admittedly it's a little weird with the anti-Princess propaganda that the Horde has, but she doesn't really need to explain or justify this. Hordak has a very [i]laissez-faire[/i] attitude, and everyone else she clearly doesn't care about.
And if she knew or suspected that the princesses' powers were related to the Heart of Etheria, which i will argue for later, then giving her a princessy name is also adequately ironic.
The second name bit is that Scorpia clearly knows some Latin, but not enough. True, <em>adorare</em> means to worship and/or to love, but Latin verbs are more complex than that. _Adora_ specifically is 3rd person singular present indicative active. The translation would be "she loves".
Names aside, i want to talk about how they (we) learned about the Heart of Etheria. Castaspella doesn't know what to do, Shadow Weaver suggests they take a road trip to research, which she's reticent about but concedes is probably the best use of her time, and they find success. We don't know how long it took them, but i had the distinct impression that it wasn't very long.
Naturally, I'm suggesting Shadow Weaver knew all along, and led Castaspella on the trip to have an excuse for the inevitable "how do you know?". Also tricked her into thinking it was /her/ discovery, and maybe even that she was succeeding where Shadow Weaver had failed before, if necessary.
That's why she's so excited to share their results with everybody, and Shadow Weaver cuts her off, apparently just to antagonize her for fun, but I'm suggesting it was also because for her this is the culmination of a decades-long plan, and she wants to Get On With It.
It's also interesting that there was a mural depicting the Spell of Obtainment in the hallway leading to the failsafe. It was a reminder of Shadow Weaver's past, and an opportunity for her to show she regrets her results but doesn't repent from her choices, which i quite like actually. But I'm also saying that, meta-textually, it was a signal that she'd been there before, literally.
And then there is the potential in-universe connection, since we don't know what exactly the spell was meant to be obtaining. Power, for sure, and from what happened we're probably meant to assume it's tapping into some sort of demonic entity or dimension.
Fair enough, except that it never comes up again. And it's kind of a big plot point that Etheria is isolated from the rest of the cosmos, which may or may not conflict with it having a contactable "hell". Meanwhile there's the Heart of Etheria Project collecting all that magic, which Mara's allies (and their descendants) would know something about, have access to at least one backdoor to, and may well have tried to tap into its power at some point.
And then what went wrong may well be one of the defense mechanisms of the Project, though I'm admittedly veering into unfounded speculation.
So, a rough timeline. Light Spinner was always motivated to excel and craved power. She was probably always envied the princesses, who command greater magic than most sorcerers with apparently none of the study and practice.
She took to researching everything she could that might lead to power, eventually discovering the chamber with the failsafe, and presumably other information left by Mara's Friends, either in other chambers or in documents she's since removed. She would have learned a lot of things from this.
As i suggested, i believe she knew there's some connection between the princesses at large and the Heart of Etheria. Incidentally, i don't know exactly what that connection is, and in particular whether princesses were created by the Project or an existing phenomenon that the First Ones co-opted. But it doesn't matter, exactly.
What's important is that there's clearly a connection, more specifically a control system for the princesses and their magic, which is presumably related to how Shadow Weaver was able to tap into the Black Garnet's power. With Hordak's help, obviously, since she clearly believed it when he claimed he could cut her off at will, but he's later shown to have basically no understanding of First Ones' tech, so the knowledge must have come from her.
For the record, i would guess she thinks princesses are artificial, empowered both magically and politically to keep the planet in check, and that they would be depowered once the failsafe was fired. I also think that may be true, actually, since it almost happened when Entrapta was messing with the system, and if i recall none of them were shown to use any magic after Adora did fire it, while she clearly used Perfuma's power. But anyways!
Back to what Shadow Weaver learned, she would know some of what the failsafe does, namely disrupt the system that's hoarding most of the planet's magic, thereby spreading magic to all (most notably her), and some of how to use it, and the fact that she couldn't do so and hope to live, and some of the criteria for who can. That part is important.
But first, she also learned the Spell of Obtainment, deemed it more likely but didn't think she could do it herself, despaired of getting help until she thought Hordak's rise to fame would give her #casus belli#, lost her patience when the Mystacor leadership disagreed, etc etc etc. Pretty uncontroversial in this part, i think.
After she'd joined the Horde, when Hordak showed up with baby Adora and wanted to lump her with the rest of the orphans they have, Shadow Weaver pleaded to have her get special treatment. She even said that she's special, and it couldn't have been her leadership skills or good heart, since she didn't have either yet. It's heavily implied she could recognize her as a First One, but it's not clear why she would care, since they were known for leaving behind advanced technology, which a baby also doesn't have. Unless, of course, she knew there are devices only a First One could use, and maybe has plans related to that.
So I'm pretty sure she learned the criteria that the failsafe requires, devised some spell or technique to check people for them that she pretty much used all the time, just in case, and was very surprised when a newborn tested positive. She was also surprised when Hordak made her personally responsible for the raising of the kid, but her reaction is pretty much "ok, that could work, i guess".
Also also, i suspect she can read First One script. Not perfectly like Adora, but better than Bow's parents probably. Mostly because when she puts Adora's hand on the crystal and says "i think you know the password", that seems like a very transparent attempt to pretend she knows it too when she doesn't. But that seems irresponsible at such a crucial moment, she and Castaspella should really have researched it earlier. Or at least her line there should have been "you can read this, right?" or somesuch.
So I'm thinking it's a double bluff, hoping everybody assumes she doesn't know so she doesn't have to reveal how and why she knows, again.
And that's all i have, i think? This is not nearly as well laid out as i would like. But then, nothing ever is, right?
Also it's not even close to morning anymore. Thank you if you even got this far, and have a good evening!
hi!!! this took me a while to answer, i'm so sorry about that <3
i'm very low on energy today so i cannot summon up the brain energy to respond properly to this, as much as i want to, i'm really sorry for that as well
i love this theory!! it actually fits in really well with canon and makes, like, a LOT of sense now that i think about it. i definitely wouldn't have thought of this on my own, so thank you for sharing this with me!! :D
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richincolor · 3 years
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Interview with Axie Oh
We’re excited to feature an interview with Axie Oh today. It’s release day for her latest novel, XOXO.
Cello prodigy Jenny has one goal: to get into a prestigious music conservatory. When she meets mysterious, handsome Jaewoo in her uncle’s Los Angeles karaoke bar, it’s clear he’s the kind of boy who would uproot her careful plans. But in a moment of spontaneity, she allows him to pull her out of her comfort zone for one unforgettable night of adventure…before he disappears without a word.
Three months later, when Jenny and her mother arrive in South Korea to take care of her ailing grandmother, she’s shocked to discover that Jaewoo is a student at the same elite arts academy where she’s enrolled for the semester. And he’s not just any student. He’s a member of one of the biggest K-pop bands in the world—and he’s strictly forbidden from dating.
When a relationship means throwing Jenny’s life off the path she’s spent years mapping out, she’ll have to decide once and for all just how much she’s willing to risk for love.
*There will be several online events to help celebrate release week and you can find out more about those here.
Congratulations and happy release day. Thanks so much for taking the time to share a little bit about your writing. I just re-read XOXO and it was even more fun the second time through. I had so many smiles and plenty of laughter. I also had to find and listen to a few songs along the way as music is such a big part of the story.
Axie: Ah, I love that!
Jenny is clearly a music lover–though K-pop isn’t exactly at the top of her playlists. Has music and/or K-pop always been important in your life?
Axie: It has! My mother, who immigrated to the US when she was in high school, listened to Korean music—though I’m not sure if that would be considered K-pop at the time, and so did my older brother. In elementary school, I was into 1st generation K-pop groups like Fin.K.L and Shinhwa, then in middle school I was obsessed with Super Junior, and finally in high school and college, my favorite groups were Big Bang and Exo, among so many others. BTS debuted in 2013 right after I graduated from college, and I was a fan of theirs from the beginning!
Is there a K-pop song you’re loving right now or a K-pop group you think people should listen to immediately?
Axie: Right now I’m really into TXT and ENHYPEN’s music. If you like BTS, you should give them a listen! See the below question for what songs I think you should listen to immediately!
I’ve seen playlists for Rebel Seoul and Rogue Heart. Do you make one for all of your novels?
Axie: I do! I make playlists after each book I write as something fun for myself and they also provide some nice extra content for readers. I recently shared my playlist for XOXO, which I spent months on—it’s a K-pop book so I really wanted to showcase a variety of artists, and curate it well with songs that fit the book’s mood and tone. I even attempted to match each song to a chapter, so there are 40 songs on the playlist! You can check out the Spotify playlist here.
Do you feel like you are finished with the characters in XOXO or is there a possible follow-up?
Axie: I wrote XOXO as a standalone, but if my publisher came knocking, I wouldn’t say no!
What did you like about going from writing sci-fi books to writing a contemporary romance?
Axie: I liked exploring a completely new genre with so many fun, familiar tropes. And XOXO in particular is a very light-hearted and happy book, much different than my moody, atmospheric sci-fi series. Though there *is* worldbuilding involved in writing a contemporary, it’s not as intense as a sci-fi novel, so that was also nice for me!
And I see your next publication The Girl Who Fell Beneath the Sea is a fantasy re-telling. Are there things about writing a fantasy that you’ve appreciated?
Axie: Fantasy as a genre is actually my first love, and retellings my favorite subgenre of fantasy. I love how in fantasy you can explore new worlds, and there are no limits to one’s imagination.
No matter the genre, what do you love about writing and what can be a challenge?
Axie: As a generally private person, I love how through writing I can share parts of myself with others. I feel like I express myself best through fiction. I also definitely don’t feel like I create in a vacuum, but in conversation with others. What I mean by this is that I’m inspired by other forms of media when creating my own stories. For example, XOXO is inspired by my love of K-dramas, the Rebel Seoul series is a love letter to mecha anime, and The Girl Who Fell Beneath the Sea is my addition to the YA retelling subgenre of books, like those written by Robin McKinley and Diana Wynne Jones.
As for challenges, there are so many—difficult revisions, bad writing days, comparing myself to other writers—but at the end of the day, the need to express myself through writing is most important to me than all the rest combined.
What are your most anticipated reads that haven’t been published yet?
Axie: I blurbed a few books that I’m very excited about! Nafiza Azad’s sophomore novel THE WILD ONES releases next month and it’s absolutely stunning. If you liked XOXO, and were curious what it’s like to be a non-Korean idol in the K-pop world—in this case, Chinese American—then check out Alexandra Leigh Young’s IDOL GOSSIP, out in September. And lastly, Julie Abe’s YA contemporary debut, THE CHARMED LIST, is as charming as it sounds, about two childhood best friends to enemies to lovers who go on a road trip together—they also happen to wield magic! This one isn’t out until Summer 2022.
We’re looking forward to seeing XOXO out in the world soon and having a group discussion here on the blog about it too! Thanks again.
Axie: Thank you for having me!! This interview was so much fun ☺
Axie Oh is a first generation Korean American, born in NYC and raised in New Jersey. She studied Korean history and creative writing as an undergrad at the University of California – San Diego and holds an MFA from Lesley University in Writing for Young People. Her passions include K-pop, anime, stationery supplies, and milk tea. She currently resides in Las Vegas, Nevada with her puppy, Toro.
You can find her on her website and on Goodreads, Twitter, Tumblr, Pinterest, and Instagram.
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shimmersing · 3 years
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Constellation
Part One | Part Two | Interlude | Part Three
Rating: General Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/M, Gen Relationships: Female Jedi Consular | Barsen'thor/Male Republic Trooper, Jedi Consular | Barsen'thor/Republic Trooper Characters: Female Jedi Consular | Barsen'thor, Jedi Consular | Barsen'thor, Qyzen Fess, Yuon Par, Parkanas Tark-Lord Vivicar Additional Tags: Angst, Tython, Emotional, Mentioned Mutual Pining, Fluffy, Sad, Melancholy Returning to Tython after shielding the last master suffering from Vivicar’s Force plague, Aitahea is faced with more struggle in her efforts to heal the Order and keep the Force in balance. Tired, injured, and longing for someone she can’t have, perhaps ever, the lines of her responsibility as a Jedi and her own convictions begin to blur. As Aitahea nears the end of her quest to save Yuon Par and the other Jedi Masters, she’s confronted with painful revelations and answers that only give rise to more questions. Shouldering the lives and minds of Jedi across the galaxy – alone – may prove to be more than Aitahea can bear.
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Part Two
“Thank you for coming. I have made all the preparations for the ritual to find Lord Vivicar.”
Yuon turned to greet Aitahea with a rueful smile. “I plan to create a connection between us, using your shielding ability. If it is - was - Parkanas, this should work. Drawing on your strength, I will invert the link between myself and Vivicar and use it to sense his location.”
Aitahea didn’t know the details of what Parkanas might have experienced, nor did she wish to know. She did understand that as a result of what had occurred on Malachor Three, Yuon Par and Duras Fain were the parents of Laranna Fain. All of the Masters involved had abandoned Parkanas, whom they should have protected, she realized in dismay. That’s what the Jedi were, protectors, defending the innocent and championing justice, weren’t they? What did it mean, truly, that Yuon had called Parkanas weak?
“Don’t expose yourself to Lord Vivicar’s influence any longer than you must, Yuon.” Aitahea found herself whispering a plea. “Please.”
If this failed, it would cost lives, Yuon’s and Aitahea’s surely among them. In the quiet moments after her crying had passed, she’d discovered a calm remnant of strength, her private conviction that being a Jedi meant protecting everyone she possibly could.
Focusing on these newborn doubts would not benefit anyone. Her trust felt shaken, but Yuon had never brought her to harm before.
“I won’t. For your sake, as well as mine.” Yuon sighed, resignation in the drop of her shoulders. “There are risks. For one, the shielding you gave me on Coruscant will be severed.”
Aitahea flinched. The shielding had become a comfort, perhaps not so unlike the Force bond that some Masters and apprentices formed through training. But as a shield and not a true bond, it was more akin to a signal she could check at will, adjust, improve, and repair as necessary. Aitahea thought of both Yuon and herself as fiercely individual in certain ways, and she’d never truly considered the implications. It had simply been so crucial, so necessary.
“I don’t know what will happen then,” Yuon continued, looking focused and prepared again. “It’s possible I could die once your shield is gone.”
“I’ll protect you, Master.”
“With your strength to sustain me, we will do what we can.” Yuon forced another smile, little more than a grimace. “No matter what happens, you must give me as much time as possible. Reversing the link may be a long process.” She knelt on the carpeted floor. Aitahea followed suit, while Qyzen stepped back to lean watchfully against a pillar.
“Let us begin.”
The Force wrapped her, whole and complete, and Aitahea suddenly recalled a childhood visit to an artificial sea on Coruscant. She’d been young; the memory was little more than a hazy sensation of warm, buoyant safety. Yuon’s presence across from her smoldered like the banked embers of a fire, steady and glowing.
Sinking further into the lull of meditation, Aitahea found herself adrift in the numinous experience of the Force. On Tython, with her own Master, under the watchful eyes of the Council, Qyzen’s comforting presence near them, in the safest place in the universe. All was as it should be. For a moment, she rested calmly in the knowledge that she had everything she needed.
Then Yuon’s gentle warmth grew abruptly fierce. An unnamable distress gripped Aitahea; the profound embrace of the Force around her shuddered. An unnamable something snapped, and Aitahea gasped aloud at the acute absence of her carefully constructed shielding. Her eyes flew open to see Yuon swaying.
“Yes, yes – it’s working. I can feel his mind and… uhhh… I can feel—I…” Yuon’s words trailed off, reeling listlessly for a horrible moment. Just as Aitahea was about to call her name, Yuon’s eyes opened.
Only they were not Yuon Par’s eyes. With horrible, sickening recognition, Aitahea felt the tendrils of darkness that she’d battled for almost a year once again entangling her beloved Master. When Yuon opened her mouth, it was not her voice that spoke.
"She can feel the power that she’s challenging." Yuon slowly stood, motions mechanical. “There is no hope.” Aitahea reeled back in alarm, and Qyzen hissed a sibilant curse. Vivicar laughed, examining Yuon’s body as though it were a costume he wore.
“Yuon has drained your strength and made herself vulnerable to me. Still arrogant and reckless.” Turning back to Aitahea, Yuon’s head tilted in a horrible parody of affection, her Master’s face a rictus of agonized delight. But it was Vivicar’s voice that uttered her name.
“Aitahea.” She shuddered but held her ground. “You don’t look as strong as you did last time we spoke.”
Inhaling slowly, Aitahea raised her eyes to meet the horrible, mindless stare in her Master’s face, thoughts racing to find a response. “I know your name,” she exhaled in a shaky whisper. Vivicar twitched Yuon’ lips into a smirk but offered no reply. Aitahea continued, voice trembling. “You were once Parkanas Tark, a brave Jedi. You could be that man again.”
“The past means nothing,” Vivicar growled, waving a hand. “All that matters is the future, which doesn’t involve you, Aitahea.”
She clenched her jaw at his mockingly familiar use of her name, restraining a distraught scream of please stop. It would only fuel him further.
“See how Yuon’s will crumbles before mine.” Vivicar threw Yuon’s head back with a laugh, casually plucking her lightsaber from her side. Aitahea felt frozen; she could not bear fighting Yuon again, not after Coruscant. But when Vivicar ignited the blade, the usual lively green replaced by unthinkable red, she stumbled back in incomprehensible terror. Every cell of her being shrieked at her to flee. Yuon’s careworn face sneered down at her with unrecognizable hate. “Fitting, that two of my enemies will destroy each other.”
Stunned into a blank, silent moment by the abject horror of her present, Aitahea observed her own motions as if they were saber stances, performed by an initiate in practice. Lightsaber hilt to hand. Ignite. Ready position. Block, but if the blade isn’t fully —
Aitahea was shocked to find herself pinned brutally against the back wall, the ruby blade just inches from her skin. Qyzen was already aiming, but Vivicar flung out Yuon’s hand and threw him to the opposite corner. Aitahea took that moment of barest distraction to send Vivicar himself flying, then climbed unsteadily to her feet and placed herself between Vivicar and Qyzen.
Vivicar drew Yuon’s body up, limbs dangling as though they were on strings, a youngling’s broken toy. Qyzen pushed to his feet again, growling a string of curses behind Aitahea, who hesitated at the sight of Yuon’s lolling head and drooping eyelids.
At serious risk of toppling over, Yuon bent unnaturally and picked up the saber that had tumbled from her hand. Aitahea could sense that Yuon had been knocked unconscious by her reckless, panicked Force push, but Vivicar still drove her lifeless body forward.
“Parkanas Tark, Yuon Par was your friend!” Aitahea dodged a clumsy thrust. “Did she never once show you kindness, that you can do this to her? Release her! Parkanas, please!”
Aitahea blocked a second inept strike, and for a moment, Yuon’s eyes cleared, her voice was her own. “Aitahea!”
Vivicar stumbled back, clutching at Yuon’s head and keening pitifully. Yuon’s saber hilt clattered to the floor again. Aitahea reached for it, only for anguish to pierce through all her shields, white-hot agony suffusing her. Distantly, well beyond her own tormented scream, Aitahea somehow heard Vivicar’s wail become Yuon’s voice again.
“It… It worked!” Yuon cried, her own eyes peering out from her spent, elated face again. “Listen, Lord Vivicar… he’s out in deep space, on some sort of vessel… the coordinates!” Her hands reached out, beckoning.
Aitahea, panting in the wake of the assault, looked around for the datapad they’d had nearby, hoping that it hadn’t been damaged in the struggle. A cluster of Jedi had crowded into the doorway, alerted by the unusual commotion. Aitahea found and handed the datapad to Yuon, who began softly muttering as she searched the galactic map.
“He’s surrounded himself with defenses. Send this. It’s his code. It will give you… time to get aboard.”
Yuon pressed the datapad back into Aitahea’s hands, then sank to her knees again, clutching at her head. “No—the darkness… Vivicar’s will is too strong!”
Over one shoulder, Aitahea addressed anyone who was listening, fighting an overwhelming fatigue. “Fetch the Council and a medic immediately!”
“Yes, Master!” came a chorused reply as several youthful volunteers scattered. A few others began to clear the hallway in a spurt of practicality.
“I can’t hold on! Please, kill me!” Yuon threw her head back, arching her spine, a strangled moan tearing itself from her throat. “End it now!”
“No, Yuon. You’re safe now,” Aitahea soothed, Qyzen thankfully at her side again. He lifted the datapad from Aitahea’s hands so she could pull Yuon into her arms, willing the shattered shielding back in place.
Excruciating moments passed, punctuated with agony that Aitahea couldn’t identify as hers or Yuon’s or a lingering effect of the ritual. It was tedious and exhausting, like the time she’d attempted to paste back together a statuette of Master Gnost-Dural that a youngling under her care had broken. Pieces had been missing, and she’d been unable to fully complete the repair. Now, she filled in cracks and breaks with what felt like pieces of her soul.
Finally, the shielding began functioning. She could feel every straining fissure.
Yuon groaned, shook her head, and pulled herself from Aitahea’s tenuous grasp. “The darkness… it’s gone.” Yuon passed a hand over her face, blinking as though she’d woken from a long slumber.
“I’m glad, Yuon,” Aitahea murmured, swaying. Yuon started, suddenly recognizing her former student’s distress. She grasped Aitahea’s shoulders, steadying the other woman.
“You—you look exhausted.” Guilt flickered over Yuon’s face like a shadow. “Aitahea… You have sacrificed so much for me.”
Aitahea offered a doleful half-smile, struggling to keep her eyes open. “The Jedi way is to serve. Vivicar should no longer be able to influence you, Master,” she assured Yuon.
Several Padawans rushed into the room and began fussing over Yuon, her keepers that Master Satele had mentioned during their first meeting, she assumed. Qyzen leaned down and offered a scaly arm to support Aitahea as she struggled to her feet.
“Your shielding has driven him from my mind,” Yuon said. Brushing off the exasperated Padawans, she caught Aitahea’s other hand between her own. “Thank you.”
Palm to palm, Aitahea sensed the delicate strength of her shield, already showing signs of deterioration. “Of course, Master.”
The Padawans rushed in as soon as Yuon released Aitahea’s hand. “I—I must rest.” She blinked, and two of the Padawans took her arms, making soothing sounds. “Master Syo and the Council. They must hear of what we’ve learned.”
“Herald needs treatment for injuries,” Qyzen added as Yuon was pulled away.
Aitahea felt utterly wretched yet single-mindedly determined to end the plague as swiftly as possible. They knew where Vivicar was hiding. They could end it all in just hours.
“The Council first, Qyzen.” Aitahea lifted her hand experimentally off Qyzen’s steadying arm, feeling the lump in her throat tighten when her legs quivered. She took a breath, then a step, and finally waved for Qyzen to follow. With a shake of his head, Qyzen acquiesced, staying a step behind her.
By the time they’d reached the Council chamber, Aitahea had reached deeply into the Force to dampen the pain of her injuries and the fatigue of conflict. It didn’t eliminate her agony, but it allowed her to focus long enough to deliver her debrief to the Council.
“The ritual was a success,” she began. “Lord Vivicar is out in uncharted space in a hijacked vessel, the Progress. He knows I’m coming.”
“Now only your shielding ability can stop him,” Master Satele said, the other Masters nodding their consensus.
“You’ve shown great fortitude and once again saved Master Yuon, despite the odds.” Master Syo leaned forward in his chair. “But Lord Vivicar will have made preparations, and he still has his greatest weapon—the plague itself.”
Aitahea took a tremulous breath. “I believe I can save him, Master Syo. Now that I know who he really is, I could return Vivicar—Parkanas, that is—I could return him to the light.”
Syo shook his head. “A noble thought, Aitahea, but don’t take unnecessary risks. Your shielding ability is our only hope.”
Master Jaric finally spoke. “Jedi, you’re exhausted. You need medical treatment and rest.” Qyzen grunted beside her in rare agreement with Master Jaric.
“There’s no time to waste, Master. We must move now, before Vivicar strikes back,” Aitahea argued. “I can recover en-route; I have a very capable crew waiting.”
Syo glanced at Satele, then gave Aitahea an reluctant nod. “Go to the coordinates quickly. And, Aitahea—may the Force be with you.”
Aitahea accepted the dismissal with a shaky bow, unable to trust her voice, and left the Council chamber. Qyzen followed, arm steady as he offered it to her again.
“Herald cannot—”
“Qyzen, we must,” Aitahea interrupted. “I’ll rest on the Luminous, Sia will manage the flight, and Tharan and Holiday can offer some assistance, I’m sure.” Qyzen hummed a skeptical agreement but said nothing.
They limped to the shuttle pad. Aitahea idly hoped there wasn’t a trail marking their path after she noticed the oozing wound at her hairline. No wonder the Council had looked so concerned; she probably looked a fright. With the coordinates already sent to Prelsiava onboard the Luminous, they could leave as soon as they were onboard. Then she would rest.
Qyzen mindfully guided Aitahea to a seat on the shuttle. She spent a few moments in unsteady healing efforts, but her grasp of the Force felt tenuous now, soaring thousands of meters above the sacred ground of Tython. Finally, Aitahea shambled on leaden feet through the orbital station to the Luminous, ready and waiting.
See-Too made a little stuttering gasp of alarm when he saw Aitahea climbing the stairs to the main deck and tottered over to fret as they ascended the stairs; Qyzen had kept her upright through the orbital station, but Aitahea’s fragile strength was nearly spent. “Master Jedi, we must get you to the med bay at once!”
“Kriffing hell, Ai.” Sia pushed past the droid, slinging Aitahea’s arm over her shoulders. “What happened to you?” she asked, dragging the barely-conscious Jedi to the med bay. Between them, Qyzen and Sia got her onto the observation bunk while See-Too went in search of Tharan.
Aitahea roused, seizing Sia’s sleeve. “Are we leaving?” she whispered, eyes briefly opening to squint blearily at the pilot.
“Got underway as soon as you closed the hatch.”
Aitahea sighed deeply, the faintest smile on her lips as she closed her eyes again. “How long?”
“Six hours or so, if I got the calculations right, and I always do. You’ve got to rest. I’ll get Tharan and Holiday in here to patch you up at least, bandage that head wound. Don’t give me that line you always do about self-healing.” She folded her arms, disapproval in her narrowed eyes. “You’re starting to scare me, Aitahea. Very little in the galaxy scares me; you know that. When does this end?”
“Soon,” Aitahea murmured. Sia sighed but didn’t press her further.
“You’d have been better off staying on Tython where they have a full medical suite, you know,” Tharan mentioned casually when he walked in, Holiday on his heels. He scanned a few labels before selecting a medical stim and a sedative from their supply. “Fortunately, See-Too has done exceptionally well keeping our stock current. You’ll recover quickly.” He unceremoniously injected Aitahea with the drugs, efficiently bandaged her obvious wounds, and then ushered everyone briskly from the med bay. Aitahea was asleep before they left.
Her wrist comm beeped; a call was coming through. Aitahea stirred but drifted back into stillness once the alert ceased to sound. A few moments later, the missed contact’s ID popped unseen onto the display:
Lieutenant Erithon Zale.
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Constellation: Part One | Part Two | Interlude | Part Three
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