#if he has the morphing power he’s trapped within a week

[polarspaz]

WerewolfLeonRE AU! (( Because F!@# me, apparently I can’t go a week without making another damn werewolf AU for some reason..!    ૮ ⚆ﻌ⚆ა  ))

What Leon doesn’t realize is that the dog he saved from the bear trap was in fact, not a normal dog, far from it. The so called dog is actually a wolf spirit that has lived the woods for eons, a supernatural creature that held some powerful sway over nature.

Leon’s mercy endeared the spirt, but his battle prowess with the El’Gigante impressed it as well. So when the battle is over and Leon gives the wolf a heartfelt thanks, the spirit decides right there to bless him with it’s ‘gift’.

Before Leon can act, the wolf lunges forward and bites into his neck. Leon bucks his arms underneath the wolf, who immediately lets go and allows Leon to throw it backwards. When Leon snaps around, his knife out ready to parry a follow up attack, the wolf is simply gone. Even weirder is that he felt teeth pierce his skin, but he looks, his shoulder bears no signs of wounds or blood.

Disturbed and confused, Leon brushes the event aside and heads off after Ashley.

Then twenty minutes later he’s throwing up the Plaga that had been residing inside his chest. The small thing lets out a pitiful whine as it dies in his puddle of vomit, much to the shock of Luis and to his own relief.

But like a creeping cold Leon starts to feel off. Smells and noises are becoming almost unbearably acute. The rancid smells of blood, rot, and mucus have intensified and Leon finds himself stopping to gag a few times and collect himself.

And damn, when were guns this loud? It takes way more effort than he would like to stop himself from full body flinching every time he fired his guns now. Yet it all comes to head when they get to the mines and he yanks Luis back, making the other man narrowly miss a knife aimed for his spine.

The ensuring fight with Krauser ignites a fire in Leon and suddenly he’s transforming. Both Luis and Krauser share a moment of sheer bafflement as they watch the agent morph into a 7 foot tall, snarling werewolf.

Leon, not really aware of what is happening, uses this opportunity to beat the ever loving shit out of Krauser, who escapes after, still utterly confused. 

Luis finds himself awkwardly standing there with panting beast, who looks at him sharply with it’s blue eyes. Neither of them move for a moment until Luis puts his hands up and smiles nervously. “Leon? You’re not gonna eat me are you?” 

Leon jolts at the sound of his name and looks down at himself before making a confused warbling growl. Then, within a few scant seconds he’s back to being a human again. 

“What the actual fuck is going on?!” Leon manages to ask after a moment, looking to Luis who honestly looks just as confused as he is....

[xxwitchylanexx]

A Night Under The Moon-Cloud Strife x Reader

Rebirth Retold Chapter 3

No Story Spoilers

Chapter 4

Masterlist

*~*

That night their group set up camp on the edge of the somber swamp, finally ready to cross the desolate stretch after two weeks of odd jobs in the Woodlands. The murky water and foggy air made for the perfect hunting grounds for the infamous Midgar Zolom. The possibility of being ambushed had everyone on the edge of their seats. You assured them that the camp was far enough away from the edge. The tents more into the woods than on the shoreline would give ample time if it was to strike. However that had little effect on the rising tension becoming more and more charged with anxiety and adrenaline by the second.

You laid flat backed on your sleeping roll with a knee bent towards the sky. You could barely see the gentle twinkles of the stars above through the thick mist that blew off the sulfuric water. You missed the ambient chatter of the Woodlands despite being literal feet from it. The polluted land long since drove out anything but fiends and scavengers. Even the others grew quiet the lifeless swamp slowly sapping the once joyful vibe leaving everyone disheartened.

You couldn’t take anymore. The silence was suffocating and your ears felt as if an immense pressure was pushing against your ear drums causing the intake and exhales of your breathing to echo loudly in your skull. You rose to your feet quickly and strode off into the shadows of the looming treeline. As soon as you felt you were far enough away from the bottomless pits of muck, debris, and decomposing remnants you slowed. You footsteps quieted into the soft padding of the old dirt road you used earlier that day. The dark withered plants that would crumble by the lightest of touches slowly morphed into strong mossy green ferns, and the occasional patch of wild flowers that thrived in the abundance of nutrients the forest provided. You soaked in the bursting energy for the whispers among the leaves, breathed in the crisp clean air, and only then did the infectious despair fade within the steady beats of your heart.

You knew it was silly. You’ve came toe to toe with bigger evils than the Midgar Zolom. You’ve seen worse horrors than the over polluted river that carried the remnants of the mako pipes that have leaked over the years. It was silly that something as insignificant in the scheme of these could unnerve you. You, who has endured an unimaginable amount of humanity’s abominations. You, who did not falter under the strain of pressure or threat of danger.

You just hated that a place like this was seated on the opposite side of such a wondrous place. You hated that anyone who was lucky enough to flee the monstrosities of Midgar only to find some peace in the Woodlands then gets trapped in the complex uninhabitable hunting ground of Midgar’s creation. You hated that your home, or the closest thing to a home you had, was basically a cage to prevent anyone from spreading their seeing Gaia with their own two eyes.

It was hard to believe you were leaving once again. How long had you been here this time? A year? Maybe eighteen months. You were thankful for Bill. Even after having his plate full with raising his grandkids after the death of their parents he still found space to take you in when you had nowhere to go. He provided you with room and board in exchange with training some of his chocobos, and when he realized you had a special talent for connecting with them he even found you some clients interested in giving you a shot. Then through the power of word of mouth and your hard work you built up a clientele that allows you to do this for a living. You never thought people would benefit from your gift besides betting on your tremendous jockey record.

Your feet carried you up a winding foot path and up a steep incline, using a few of the thinner trees to keep your stability. Once the ground leveled out you slipped through a gap in the trees where the grass grew a bit more wild. A few wildflowers popped here and there across the wide meadow, and the forest gale swept through the blades of grass leaving behind its melody. You leaned against the rough bark of the nearest tree and toed off you boots the course stems of grass tickled at the underside of your feet. You bathed yourself in the light of the moon as you twirled across the field to the center taking in a huge breath relishing in the crispness of the air.

You gazed up at the vast sky, finding peace in the gentle winks the stars bestowed upon you. Slowly you sank onto to your knees before laying down until the flat of your back met the chilly ground. You ran her fingertips through the blades of grass at your sides, and gently plucked at a few from time to time. Time slowed as you allowed yourself to swept away from any troubles in the symphony of buzzing wings, the song of the cicadas, and chirping grasshoppers.

You never could get used to how far the sky above you, unlike the steel sky you grew up under. Everything felt so restricting back then. The darkness of Midgar was skilled in clipping your wings before you truly learned to fly. It kept you shackled to the inhuman ways of greed, lust, and power. Though you tried your hardest not to allow yourself to be caught in the lurking memories of the life you led then, you couldn’t help but wonder if anything had changed. Did anyone miss you? Probably not. In fact many slumlords probably slept easier knowing your blade had been buried with the body they believed was yours while your captor raged at the loss of income you’d brought in.

Six years ago you truly thought you were going to die that night in the coliseum. You hadn't wanted to participate in the Corneo Cup but the debt you owed to that woman for your upbringing-if you could call it that- was was high as the walls around Wall Market, and only winning the matches would provide enough to keep your ‘guardian’ at bay. You survived all the rounds by the skin of your teeth, the exhaustion of such a drawn out competition draining you in a way that left you lifeless. So the terror when they announced a surprise finale had hooked its claws into the fascia of your useless muscle. Bile rose into your throat and you actually considered to just lie down and accept your fate. But when your opponent was released onto the stage with you you knew your death would be far worse than any pain you’d experienced before, and you never in a million years thought the Don to be so cruel. Fresh from the depth of the Shinra labs, as if he knew where she came from, a humanoid figure stumbled through the gates. It’d smelled of rotten flesh and smoky char. Painful groans emanated deep in its’ chest since its mouth was branded shut. Claws glowed a foul purple, more that likely a product of producing some kind of venom that could prove fatal or just paralyze you so you’d be conscious as it teared you apart. You didn’t remember a lot of details beyond the pain that consumed you as its claws impaled you and twisted within your belly. You should’ve died.

You were told you’d struck it down before it could finish the job however you lost consciousness. You’d came to weeks after hidden away in a strange bedroom you’d never seen before. That’s when Chocobo Sam waltzed in, filled you in on the details, and proposed an exchange. He’d arranged for the world to believe you dead, and was preparing a funeral. He would smuggle you out of Midgar in exchange for your employment in the world of chocobo racing. After all help never came for free. Even back then in the streets of Midgar you held a special connection with his chocobos, and with a little training he believed you’d be a world class jockey, and in turn make him a lot of money. Now, as a free woman who’s had the chance to finally spread your wings, you looked for ways to atone for the for the things you’ve done, and people you’ve hurt.

You thought if you stayed on your own, embraced the bitter loneliness that forever contained, and used your skills to help the people of Gaia as you wandered from town to town that maybe the sins of the past would begin to fade. And when you take your last breath on this Planet the scars you’ve inflicted would disappear alongside you. At least that was the hope. Though you aren’t really sure anymore. Maybe there was a better way to set things right.

You told yourself you’d accompany them until they arrived at the saucer, return to your work, and consider it another job well done, but with every day, even though it’s only been two short weeks, you find yourself wishing that you would never have to leave them.

Tifa was like a big sister. The raven haired beauty always checked in with to make sure you was eating enough, or that you weren’t getting too worn down from all the fights that seemed to gravitate their way. She asked your favorite foods, and tried to accommodate your preferences alongside everyone else’s, and don’t get you started about how she nitpicks at your sleeping habits. You don’t understand why it’s such a big deal to sleep under the stars instead of inside of a tent.

You got along well enough with Barret. You quickly learned that as long as you listened to his many stories about the planet and how Shinra was shit, which was the one thing everyone could agree on, you’d get along fine. Though you made a mental note to pick up some ear plugs the next time the group stays in a town. You didn’t mind how much his voice carried in the daylight, but if you had to lose another second of sleep to his ground breaking snores you was going to lose you mind.

You absolutely adored Red XIII. The two of you had become fast friends. In fact the moment you offered him some of the choco treats you had, you had him eating out of the palm of your hand. Literally. As a thank you, Red would often curl up next to your bed roll to cast some extra heat your way. Sometimes after everyone else drifted off you’d point out your favorite stars that hung in the sky and he’d teach you the name of it.

Aerith was a breath of fresh air. So upbeat and full of life. She seen the good in everything, and led her life with grace. As they traveled, she’d point out flowers that she liked or ones she thought you’d enjoy as well. You didn’t have the heart to tell her they were just a part of the background for you. She’d ask you so many questions like: Where are you from? What do you like the most about chocobos? What’s your type in guys? The last one so out of left field it caught you off-guard.

The only guy you currently thought about was the one member of the group that remained a mystery.

Your curiosity burned within you, at times consuming your thoughts that’d be better used elsewhere. The occasional peek behind this tough, brooding act fueled you to be more daring, but the odd swelling of your heart urged you to keep your distance, and he had little to no difficulty in avoiding you. Every now and then Aerith— her insistence seemed a bit odd to you but you figured maybe she was just trying to get him to be polite-suggested that he should sit next to you, or accompany you to collect water or firewood, but even then his body would remain as stiff as a board. It was very clear how uncomfortable he was. Yet, from time to time she could feel the way his stare drilled into you, or when you thought it was safe to sneak a peak at him- I mean who could blame you- he’d already be looking at you. Embarrassment would swell at being caught though the weight of his eyes would remain heavy on your flushed face even after you’d look away.

You sighed as your gaze refocused on the luminous moon, and in a moment of vulnerability you asked it to shed some light on the situation, and maybe ease the fluttering in your chest.

Somewhere in her peripheral a green flicker bounced through the tall grass. You rose onto your elbows, and twisted at the hips in the direction you first saw it. You trained your eyes, scanning high and low for the source. You began to believe you had imagined it until the faint green glow flared once again, flashing six times before growing dark. Lightning bugs.

*~*

Cloud hadn’t meant to stumble upon the scene that played out in front of him. If anything, it was Tifa’s fault since she had asked him to go and find more wood for the fire.

He had combed through the woods after no luck finding burnable pieces near the swamp. Everything was soggy and covered in rot from lying in such mucky water. Truth be told, he jumped on the opportunity to stray from stifling group setting. He basked in the tranquil silence that didn’t happen much anymore since the group had doubled in size the only noises he heard now were the crickets calls and his feet swishing across the ground. He aimlessly picked up dry sticks and bark for kindling and trekked over to a few tress that had a few fallen branches that would last awhile when a rhythmic thumping vibrated through the ground from the clearing up ahead. The movement up him on alert dropping the wood to the ground next to the trunk of the tree he was at and brought a hand up to grip the hilt of his sword.

With measured steps, he stalked forward doing his best to blend into the thin shadows the tress cast to the edge of the tree line. His bicep brushed against the bark roughly as he peered around its’ circumferences. Cloud expected some fiends, boy was he wrong.

The entire clearing was bathed in the full moon’s light. Hundreds of flashing lightning bugs fluttered in circles in soft shades of greens and yellow, and in the center of it all was you in all your striking beauty swaying along with the insects’ movements. He felt himself pull his blade from his back and lean it up against the truck that has kept him hidden. His expression softening without his permission and his eyes swimming in awe of the way you danced as if you were the wind yourself.

His feet began to inch closer to you, his clunky boots padded softly in the grass despite being too hypnotized to care if you was loud or not. He found it rather amusing that he’d tried his hardest not to be alone with you and yet here he was being drawn to you like a moth to a flame. He still didn’t know what to say or do around you. Should he act tough, or should he be more gentle? How would he even go about that? What should he talk about, or should he let you choose a topic and just go along with it? What if the other realize he’s acting different around you? Would they all tease him as mercilessly as Aerith did? He was so stuck in his own head that most of the interactions had been awkward he always felt he came off colder than he wanted to. Only for Aerith to have been watching the entire interaction and tease about his ‘crush’. He’d scoffed, and wave her off saying nothing had changed, but you clung to every bit of his free thoughts and he felt like he was going wild.

You weren’t shy or meek. You had the guts to put Barrett in a headlock when he rambled on for two hours about Shinra killing the planet. Did you have a death wish? You were smart and intuitive, winning Red’s affection by appreciating his intelligence instead of treating him as an animal. How you trained with Tifa and surprisingly could hold your own. His head still plagued him with worry that he wouldn’t be able to protect you in the coming challenges this journey will hold. Yet the spark in your eye when you try to convince him to allow you to fight did something to him. He hated how chummy Aerith got with you. Every day she’d approach him with some new info she learned that could ‘help’ him out. You grew up in Midgar. You liked being in the outdoors vs. being inside. You didn’t seem all that interested in flowers. You preferred salty over sweet, and other things she deemed important for him to know. All it did was make his hands clammy when he got close to you, and internally panic as he was unsure how to interact with you.

So why was this moment so different? Sure his pulse raced, but his need to be close to you override the hesitation that consumed him. Maybe he had to be in a trance so his desires could run freely, though his nose crinkled at the thought that he wouldn’t ever be able to be himself around you. He stopped just a few feet away. You were to focused as you hunched over one of the flickering bugs, your braid falling over your shoulder as you leaned over. There was just something so enchanting about seeing you trying to capture lightning bugs like he had when he was young back home on nights sleep eluded him.

Your brows drew together, and that crinkle between them reappeared, as you stretched out your hands and cupped each one in a half circle. You took in a deep breath and exhaled as you quickly clapped your hands around one, as fast as a snake. You shrieked with joy as you hopped a little as cradled the tiny insect against your chest. You peered down at it through the gaps between your finger, a gentle smile graced your pretty face the greenish light highlighting the e/c of your eyes.

He stretched a hand out to you, for what purpose he wasn’t sure, but you must have seen him then out of the corner of your eye because you jolted upwards with a quiet squeak - cute - and hands thrown up releasing the bug you worked so hard to catch.

“Fuck!” you cried as a hand clutched at your chest as you tried to still your rapid heartbeat. “You scared the shit out of me!” You yelled as you stomped over to him and smacked his shoulder. He had to summon all the stubborn willpower in his body to keep the corners of his mouth from inching into a smile. “I worked so hard to capture him, you ass!” You spun the opposite direction without giving him a chance to explain and began looking for your next target like he wasn’t even there.

He scratched at the back of his neck as he shuffled a tiny bit closer to you, “Sorry. I- uh,” Cloud shifted from one foot to the other uncomfortably. “Was looking for firewood.” Your lack of a response had him cursing at himself. Maybe he shouldn’t have approached you at all. He awkwardly turned back to the forest and intending to collect the branches, get back to the camp, and hole himself up. He even made a few steps back to the treeline before he stopped to consider if he should say goodbye. He twisted on his feet to look at you again.

He hadn’t expected you to be watching him, for your eyes to trace over him, study him, as he struggled with what to do next. The silence continued and while it should’ve felt awkward it didn’t. He huffed before looking over at a group of the bugs to the right of her, muttering. “I, uh, could help.” He flicked his eyes to your face briefly to gauge your reaction, not expecting the lopsided smile to be there as you continued to stare him down. “Or whatever.” He shrugged.

“Really?” You asked your head leaning slightly to the side. He only nodded to answer your question. “Alright, show me those skills, soldier boy.” You laughed the sound making him feel so much lighter.

He groaned at your teasing. “Ex-soldier.”

As ge spent a good hour or two jumping, leaping, and rolling trying to catch one of the damn things, no doubt completely embarrassing himself as you sat back and enjoyed the show, he wished he’d never opened his mouth. You must think him pathetic that a man of his skill set couldn’t catch one little bug, but when he finally caught one to present to you it made every minute of it worth it.

Your eyes lit up like he’d given you the heavens, a wide smile glowed on your s/c skin, and the gentle brush of his hand against yours as he settled it into yours had goosebumps racing against his flushed skin. To be close enough to shamelessly admire you, as you watched the critter flutter around your cupped palms, was enough payment for his services. Not that he’d ever charge you, and he’d do it all again just to see the way your face slowly warmed once you realized the attention he was giving you.

Until you finally couldn’t take it anymore, and you peered up at him through your dark lashes like you did that first day. His heart knocking against his ribs, trying to burst through his chest and land in your palms to be handled just as gently as the bug. Your voice was barely louder than a whisper as you spoke, “Thank you.”

He blinked once and then turned away from you completely. He didn’t wait for you either as he walked back to the edge of the clearing the weight of his thoughts revealing things he’d never expected to feel. How on Gaia did this even happen? One minute he was a bad ass mercenary and one bug later he was a love struck fool. He had to put some distance between you before he lost his mind altogether. He didn’t have time for shit like this. Sephiroth is out there and if he found out, Cloud could only imagine the shit he’d do to exploit this new weakness. He only allowed himself to look back once after he slung his sword onto his back and gathered the wood he’d abandoned there. “Let’s go back.” He called to you before quickly stalking back to the camp, leaving you there alone.

You looked around the shadowed field, noticing all the wonderful critters disappeared almost as abruptly as they appeared. The whole scene faded like a dream and left you with more questions about the man than when you asked the moon just a few hours ago. You glanced at it once more before making your way back to camp wondering if it was mocking you.

[artificidel]

"Did you know?"

The accusation is out of her mouth before she has time to think it over.

"Did you know that someone would open The Dragon's Gate again? Did your master tell you?!"

There's no way he would have known. Mail had been backlogged for everyone. It's not as though he was especially privy to information they all had waited weeks to hear. But even so, the circumstances are so eerily familiar that it's almost impossible to not assume the morph had his hand in it, even partially.

This isn't like the ball, where Lyn could afford to look the other way out of consideration for the atmosphere. Before, she could overlook his presence, a mere defanged dog without a master, but if they were to return back to Elibe, that would be an entirely different story.

She unsheathes her sword and points it at the morph. The others on the boat would understand if they knew what he had done.

"Answer quickly or I will not grant you mercy."

It was not a matter of if, but of when Lady Lyndis would approach him. He knows how this looks. Knows how the facts even align with his means of operating. The rumors of dragons in Elibe a waiting trap, and a lone, outnumbered, servant of Lord Nergal's the bait.

At a glance Ephidel looks all but guilty, with no counter that could not be upended. But if looked at closer, there were facts that still did not add up.

If Lord Nergal had released the dragons, why had destruction not already ensued? If Ephidel was still within Lord Nergal's good graces--still a piece of his plans--why was he only now returning? If Ephidel was to kill the lords, he has had plenty opportunity but still not acted.

This ship was days out to sea. The sun had risen and fallen several times. It would be far too late if a messenger returned to Fodlan or went on to Elibe.

An interrogation from the princess of Caelin was inevitable. But all the same, the drawing of her sword was a bit unexpected.

Just as quickly, a spell coalesced in Ephidel's palm. Unreason was unstable in his grasp. Sparking and pulsing like a powerful void. Strong enough to crack the joints in his digits to unnatural positions.

"Settle yourself, Lady Lyndis." Comes his even response. "I understand your fury, but then you must understand my retaliation."

Most of Ephidel's manipulation tactics have been put aside. They do not serve him as much as they once did, but that is not to say he has abandoned them entirely. Lady Lyndis cares not for Ephidel, perhaps not even herself now. But there is one thing she would relent for.

"There are far too many innocent bystanders on this ship, wouldn't you agree?" He says with a grave look. "I know not more than you, but if you still doubt my words, I would wait for dry land to be beneath us."

[kingmodro]

Meet The Humanoids Cast #5

This one I also got pretty put a lot of thought within.

Say hello to Podipel.

Podipel is an intelligent 27-year-old butterfly humanoid who lives with a strong unbreakable love for reading books. He is known to be one of the smartest and most intelligent humanoids, with an IQ said to be at a whopping score of 176. With this incredible amount of knowledge, he is a qualified expert at teaching the students many various subjects. He is able to teach a student any subject from grade levels ranging from preschool to 12th grade. This extreme intelligence also allows him to be able to solve complex math problems, easily understand scientific subjects such as chemistry, biology, and astronomy, and even solves very difficult puzzles such as a Rubik's cube.

He is shown to also have a very imaginative and sometimes adventurous mind. He has psychic powers caused by his extreme IQ that allow him to bend reality whenever he reads a book by either morphing the world into the world from any book he reads, or conjuring things from the book into the real world. He sometimes uses this power as a weapon to fend off his foes. His wings are patterned with several eye spots, which is believed to be where his powers come from, and he uses his magic reading power by lighting them up in contribution to his intelligence. The wings themselves allow him to fly several meters above the ground.

Podipel's house is often mistaken for a library because it is full of several bookshelves with a plethora of books of all sorts of genres such as fiction, non-fiction, history, and more. He usually prefers to have peace and quiet when he is reading, as he is very sensitive to loud noises. He would kindly confront anyone who tries to interrupt his reading session by making loud noises of any sort. However, he is keen to help anyone who asks for his help when they are in need of assistance when someone is in big trouble.

Despite looking similar to that of a fairy, he is not actually a fairy, and he is known to have a strong dislike in being called or treated like one. Mistaking him for a fairy "really tickles his eye spots" according to him.

Now here is a talk about his history.

Podipel's history behaved similar to a normal butterfly's life cycle, split up into 3 eras.

The Caterpillar Era

The Caterpillar Era was the earliest era of Podipel's life. During this stage, Podipel was in his larval stage. The lower half of his body was long, flexible, and wriggly with many legs and his antennae were longer and much more curly. When he was just 3 years old, he discovered several Dr. Seuss books on a bookshelf at his preschool, and began reading them one by one. He immediately fell in love with books after looking at the Dr. Seuss books' illustrations and silly rhymes. Along with all that, he was able to go to school, study, and focus on schoolwork like a normal student, but that was up until he turned 13 when things went south as the Chrysalis era began.

The Chrysalis Era

The Chrysalis Era was the second and shortest era of his life, which occurred during his teen stages. During this era, he began to undergo the transformation process of changing from a caterpillar to a butterfly. His body was forced in an upright position, and a hard shell (the chrysalis) formed around him. Because of this, Podipel wasn't able to do any of his schoolwork due to the fact that he was trapped inside of the chrysalis and the schoolwork was outside it. As a result, in the first few weeks, his grades were constantly getting worse and worse, and he feared that he wasn't going to be able to graduate and had to start all over again due to this. That was until another student informed his teachers and the principal about his transformation state, in which they realized what was happening to him and decided to let him be.

However, a month into the era, things began to get better for Podipel. He began gaining more and more knowledge and intelligence as his body was transforming inside the chrysalis. So by a miracle, he immediately regained the ability to still learn during this state, causing his grades to go back up. He was still able to hear through the chrysalis, and his voice would still be heard coming form inside it. As a result, Podipel began feeling a lot better. The era went on for 5 years until he turned 18, when the Butterfly era started.

The Butterfly Era

The Butterfly Era is the current and latest era, and is set to become the longest era of his life. After 5 years had passed since the start of the Chrysalis era, the chrysalis began to rattle and shake, and cracks were appearing all over it. Minutes later, the chrysalis broke apart, and Podipel broke free, now with his lower body being more human-like with 2 legs. Large wings grew out of his back, which allowed him to take flight moments after breaking free from the chrysalis. Now at the age of 27, he is set to remain as a butterfly for the rest of his life.

[helioleti]

If Will has powers, theory:

I'm not the biggest theory person but if Will does have powers then his powers are probably gonna have to do with the Upside Down exclusively. Maybe he can manipulate the UD to look, or be constructed like he needs it.

Think about it: After El opened the portal, Will was the first (known to us) person to get abducted into it, and we know for a fact that the UD Hawkins is stuck in the day Will went missing. Ever since then, Will hasn't gone back into the UD (except for s2, but we'll get to that later). These three facts are too specific to be coincidental.

Next questions we ask ourselves are: How was Will able to call Joyce through the telephone? How was he able to put on a very specific song on the recorder from another dimension? How did the Byers house apparently change in real time when Joyce put up the lights and letters on the wall, so that Will could properly communicate with her?

And most importantly: How in the world did Will survive in there for a whole week? We've seen other characters (Barb, to be specific, but we know of others who went missing) get abducted by the Demogorgon, but none of them were found alive. They were immediately trapped or eaten by the Demogorgon. How could a twelve year old boy of all people, be the only person who survived long enough to be rescued?

Here's where a line mentioned very early in the series comes back into play: "He's good at hiding," Jonathan says to Hopper (s1, ep2). This is too good of a quote & characterization to never be touched upon again. But it really hasn't been of any significance within the series yet, except maybe when El said (also in episode 2 in s1) that Will was hiding in the Upside Down.

I doubt that it was just Will's throwaway mentioned skill to be "good at hiding" what saved his life for a week. Not to mention Will has been insanely close to the Demogorgon at least three times when he was trapped in the UD (first time when he was taken [ep1], second time when he put on "Should I Stay or Should I Go" on the recorder and the Demogorgon almost morphed through the wall right after [ep2], and the third time when Will told Joyce through the lights that he was "RIGHT HERE" and to "RUN" bc the Demogorgon was coming [s1, ep3]). This is too insane to just be dumb luck.

It's only that one time nearing the end of s1 (forgot the episode number, sorry) when Will cannot escape the Demogorgon anymore and he gets trapped. This kind of makes sense because we see him weakened, freezing in the UD Castle Byers and telling El to "Hurry" when she tells him his mom is on the way. It's been a week and he hasn't had water or food, and it's just natural that there'd be a limit to his ability to "hide", powers or not.

My guess is that, until then, Will had always (accidentally, maybe) shaped his surroundings so that they make a good hiding spot for him, or to fight the Demogorgon off somehow. (This is still a very vague theory, but maybe at the time, Will's power relied mostly on his emotions and fear, and he wasn't controlling it in any way whatsoever. Meaning the way that he used any powers was also sort of "vague")

Next up: Will's behaviour in the UD in season 2

Here's how the theory that Will might be able to manipulate the UD gets a little wonky. Because this time around, we do see him in there, and we see how he acts in there (unlike in s1, when it was all hidden). There are no powers shown.

Now, I'm not a fan of amnesia or memory loss tropes in stories to hide information that'll be revealed later, because it often comes off as lazy writing (looking at you, season 4) but I do think it would be somehow plausible for Will to be oblivious to any powers he has. He was a 12 year old boy, scared to death, and maybe according to him he really did just go from hiding spot to hiding spot in the week that he was trapped. I doubt that a weeklong exposure to a traumatic life-or-death situation leaves a little kid with 100% memory of it, or how he managed to survive. Plus, I don't think that Will would fail to mention any potential powers he has for three seasons straight.

But how come he was able to hide and survive the UD in s1 (possibly with the help of powers) but didn't truly in s2?

We can be almost certain that the Mind Flayer did not yet play any role yet in season 1. Will is just now seeing this spider-shadow-figure-thing for the first time. It's not shown to be in UD Hawkins in s1 when Joyce & Hopper go in to save Will.

But now it is there, and it's very likely that it overpowers any of Will's potential powers by far. Either Will was way too scared ("Frozen," as he calls it) to use his powers, or the Mind Flayer took control of the UD, or both.

Another thing that is never really explained is: Why does Will shift from our dimension into the UD after being rescued?

We don't see any of the other characters who have been to the UD shift between the two dimensions after they get back. We could say maybe it was the extended amount of time in which Will was inside, or the way he entered it. And maybe that's true, but that wouldn't disprove, but rather enhance the fact that Will has a special connection with the Upside Down. Not just with the Mind Flayer, because he starts shifting between both dimensions already before he gets possessed. This is proven even further when we consider that UD Hawkins is stuck in the day he got abducted.

Also: Why does Will still feel the connection to the Mind Flayer (& Vecna, perhaps)? He got exorcised out of him. But somehow, a connection is still there.

Why? And why him, of all people?

I guess that's for Season 5 to reveal. I have a few ideas, but I don't want this post to get longer than it already is.

But to recap the theory:

If Will has powers, and he most likely does (if we don't want to believe his survival in the Upside Down in s1 was pure luck and "hiding skill"), these powers are probably very different from El's in that they ONLY might work/affect the Upside down. Will has a special connection with both the UD and the Mind Flayer, and I really hope it doesn't all come down to Will having to sacrifice himself so that the Upside Down can be permanently destroyed. If it does, I'll be in the Duffer brothers walls

[sonoftatooine]

Whumptober 2021

DAY 4: ‘TRUST FALL’ - TAKEN HOSTAGE

Characters: Anakin Skywalker, Wilhuff Tarkin, Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa, Bail Organa (mentioned), Obi-Wan Kenobi (mentioned)

Summary: Rebel AU - Instead of falling to the Dark Side, Anakin resists Palpatine’s manipulations, but not without consequences. With Padmé dead, he flees Coruscant, raising their two children in the fledgling Rebel Alliance. However, Palpatine has not forgotten about them. Several years later, Anakin is presented with an ultimatum - give himself up to the Empire or he’ll never see Luke and Leia again.

***

"Anakin Skywalker."

The voice of Moff Wilhuff Tarkin crackled with static as it was played through the holoprojector Anakin had cradled in his hand, his glitching image another flicker of light against the deep blue of hyperspace beyond the viewport of the ship that he had...borrowed without permission from the hangar of the new rebel base that they had set up less than a week past. By now, the message was as familiar to him as those blue lights outside; he had played and replayed it so many times. Every inflection of that smug voice, every minute change in expression on that gaunt face. But no matter the pain it caused him, he couldn't stop himself from watching it over and over, as if this time it would be...it would be—

He didn't know what it would be.

"The Emperor demands your presence," Tarkin continued. Anakin had to fight the urge to clench his durasteel hand into a fist, to crush the holoprojector into dust, as he had once on Kiros when confronted with the presence of the Zygerrian slaver on the planet. "For too long, you have evaded capture. I'm afraid that ends today."

The image jumped and stuttered as two small figures were pulled into the frame. A sob caught in Anakin's throat. Luke and Leia, their small wrists trapped in Force suppressing cuffs. Luke's eyes were full of tears, Leia's full of fury. But no matter how fierce her glare, he could tell she was terrified. They were both terrified.

"You have three standard days to come to the Mustafar system," Tarkin said, thin lips twisting into a small, cruelly satisfied smile. "Alone, unarmed. If you wish your children to remain unharmed, you will comply. Fail to do so in any regard, and you shall never see them again."

Beside him, the tears in Luke's eyes began to spill out onto his round cheeks as he frantically shook his head. Some of Leia's fear began to melt through her mask of anger, dark eyes widening in alarm as she opened her mouth to scream.

"No, Daddy, no! Don't—"

A snarl from Tarkin and the recording cut off. With a sharp clatter, the holoprojector fell to the floor as Anakin bent over with a wounded cry, burying his face in his hands.

It was his fault. All his fault. When their last base was attacked, his thoughts had only been to get them out, get them away to safety. Bail had had them go with Antilles to the rendezvous point, but Anakin had chosen to stay, to fight, to hold back the troopers long enough to allow them to escape. But in the end, it had done nothing to protect them. Luke and Leia had never arrived there. Antilles had been killed, and his children had been taken. Taken because he hadn't been there to protect them. Because he always made the wrong choice, failed the people he loved most. His mother, Padmé, and now...

And now, Luke and Leia—his precious children that he couldn't lose, not like he had lost their mother—were in the hands of the Empire, and there was only one thing he could do to save them.

One thing which the rest of the Rebel Alliance had deemed unacceptable. Most of them had been sympathetic, of course. Bail had been very kind and understanding after they had received the transmission, even as he had rushed to put himself between Anakin and the door to stop his mad dash to the hangar, no thoughts in his head beyond the need to get to his children, couldn't let them get hurt no matter what the cost. "Anakin," he'd pleaded with him, large hands pressing down on his shoulders to hold him back, and for one horrible moment it had struck him that, despite his size, it would have been so easy to just...swat him aside—this man who dared stand between him and the only option he had of keeping his children safe— "Anakin, please. I know you want to protect Luke and Leia, but giving yourself up to the Empire isn't the answer. That won't help anyone, least of all them." Obi-Wan had tried too, but he hadn't been any help. "You are the Chosen One, Anakin," he'd said. "We cannot risk you falling into the hands of the Sith. We will get your children back, but you mustn't allow your fear for them to cloud your judgement."

Obi-Wan didn't understand. He was hardly about to forget that he was the karking Chosen One when it was the very reason Palpatine had targeted his children—the man who had befriended him and manipulated him for thirteen years in order to shackle his power to him, who had taken Luke and Leia for the same end. As if he could possibly have forgotten what it was he wanted from him, when the memories of it still haunted his nightmares. His cajoling in the blood red office in the Senate Dome morphing into snarling threats as the Jedi Temple burnt around them, and then Padmé—oh Padmé—her life force slipping through his fingers like sand and there was nothing he could do—

But none of that mattered. Not now. Not when it was his children's lives on the line. He wouldn't risk defying him this time. He couldn't.

They'd tried. They'd tried to find a way to free Luke and Leia without giving into the Empire's ultimatum. But what could they do? They had no idea where Tarkin was keeping them, and if he caught the slightest wind that Anakin had not come alone to Mustafar, Force knew what would happen. He couldn't risk that. Though he was no longer naive enough to expect Tarkin to simply let them go if he caved to the demands (he steadfastly ignored the small part of him that always felt that if he had taken up Palpatine's offer, if he hadn't angered him with his refusal, that he might have let—he might have let Padmé—), perhaps he could find a way to escape afterwards. He would find his children and then they would all get away. But he couldn't let Luke and Leia suffer because of him. Couldn't let them be killed or-or spirited away and twisted by the Sith into something terrible because their father had refused to act.

He wouldn't make the wrong choice this time.

He hoped that nobody back at the base had noticed he was missing yet. He had left well past dark, slipping past the people on the night watch and away with ease. As far as Obi-Wan and Bail and everyone else were concerned, he was holed up in his room, not sleeping, not eating, and torturing himself over and over with that kriffing recording. With luck that he wasn't strictly supposed to believe in, they wouldn't go trying to talk to him too soon. If they found out he was gone, if they figured out where he was going and decided to go after him, Tarkin could take that as an attempt to breach the terms of the Empire's ultimatum, and what would happen to Luke and Leia then?

He was brought sharply out of his spiralling thoughts as his ship's console beeped at him. Blinking, he raised his head from his hands. The ship was coming out of hyperspace. Oh Force. Oh Force. He felt sick, deep in his stomach. His hands shook. For a moment, overwhelming fear seized him. The fear he had felt in the Council Chambers of the Jedi Temple all those years ago as he stared into the vicious yellow eyes of a man he had thought was his friend. Fear of everything he could do to him, and worse, to everybody he cared about. He could barely breathe. But he couldn't let himself get trapped in that fear. He had to do this. He had to—

The blue lights dissipated as the ship reverted to realspace, revealing the fiery image of Mustafar on the other side of the viewport before him. Anakin's hands trembled violently as he grasped the ship's controls—so hard that they creaked alarmingly under his mechanical fingers. For Luke and Leia. For Luke and Leia. He could do it for Luke and Leia—

He angled the ship towards the planet, and started the descent down towards the surface.

When he had come here to save the Force sensitive children kidnapped by Cad Bane during the Clone War, he had decided that, if there was a planet in the Galaxy that rivalled Tatooine in awfulness, it was Mustafar. The roaring boom of constant eruptions reverberated as fiercely in the Force as it did in his ears as he manoeuvred the ship to land on the platform adjacent to a shielded facility similar to the one he remembered from the last time he had been to the planet. Reaching out with the his Force senses, he searched for Luke and Leia and found...nothing. He swallowed. He hadn't really expected them to be here—too much of a risk that he would simply kill Tarkin, take them and go. Instead, what he sensed were echoes of fear and death, and a familiar presence that he had hoped never to cross paths with again.

Tarkin was waiting for him.

"General Skywalker." After so many times watching the holorecording over and over again, it was odd hearing his that crisp, clipped voice without static or interference. Anakin levelled the man with the fiercest glower he could muster as he stepped out of the ship. "Good evening."

"Tarkin" Anakin snarled through gritted teeth. It was all he could force out without succumbing to the urge to lash out, to let the terrible power within him that the Emperor so coveted reach out and destroy his servant in the blink of an eye. He would deserve it. Would deserve it for taking his children, for daring to threaten them— But his children were the very reason he couldn't do it. He couldn't risk them. With a great effort, he bridled in his rage.

Tarkin smiled—that thin, pallid twist of the lips that he recognised from the twilight days of the Republic. The burning red light of the lava glinting in his steely eyes made him think of the first time they'd met. Lola Sayu. The Citadel mission. Ahsoka had saved his life then. Briefly, Anakin wondered if it would have been better for all of them if the man had died there and then.

"I knew that you would come." The Force sent a flare of warning through him, and he suddenly became aware of the clanking of plastisteel armour as, at a wordless order from the man in front of him, stormtroopers surrounded him, blasters pointed at his back. "The Emperor has predicted your every move."

Tarkin's tone was unbearably smug. Despite Anakin's silence, despite his rage, the smile never left the man's face. The shadows in the deep hollows of his cheeks and eyes made him look even more gaunt than usual. Like a grinning skull, here to taunt him with his fate.

"And now... Now, there is no escape. For you or your children.”

[black-wolf-spirit-art]

I don't talk a lot about crossover content, but me and a friend have been brainstorming a lot of UT crossovers lately, the most recent has been the most fleshed out so far so I wanted to share.

INFINITY TRAIN AU. ( Infinity train spoilers ahead)

The traditional world of Humans in slaving monsters under a mountain has not come to pass, infact monsters don't exist in this world, not in terms of the canon storyline.

Two young boys, were on the way to a costume party, when the older one decides to take a shortcut through town to get there faster only to end up lost along the way. Frustrated and tired they begin to fight.

The younger brother having had enough runs off with the older sibling in pursuit. Trying to avoid him, the youngest opens the nearest door he can reach and jumps though not noticing the abnormally of the doorway. The eldest, terrified of loosing his brother, ignores the bright glowing vortex and jumps in after him, where they end up on the Train.

This is a time before Tulip arrived and One-One took back over as conductor.

Frustrated and confused the brothers travel from car to car meeting many if the original casts monsters along the way...but it's been almost a month and the older brother is getting desperate to get him and his sibling off this mysterious vehicle. The two have no real answers about how they got there or the strange glowing numbers on their palms. The eldest also can't figure out why his is higher then the others, but it gives him a bad feeling in his gut.

One day they are separated for a bit in one of the cars and the eldest is approached by a strange lengthy monster. He claims to be have the ability to help them get off the train. All the eldest has to do is help him with a few tasks here and there. Ignoring the warning signs, the he takes the offer and begins aiding this mysterious being.

Gaster is a monster that was created on the train, he's always been trapped in it. Sickened by his cage and fascinated by the passengers ability to disembark from it he begins to make it his life's mission to get off. Turning to science and eventually resorting to experimentation on passengers. He's made 6 attempts so far, all landing in failure, resulting in the termination of said passengers.

Asriel was one of the first, His soul becoming trapped on the train in a flower monster body, consumed with revenge and just as much of a burning desire to get off the train as Gaster.

...

After weeks of helping gaster with various scientific experiments the youngest brother gets getting suspicious of the oldest random disappearances, but wanting to keep in out of harm's way he insists that they'd get out of there soon and everything would be alright. He has no real idea the extent he's putting him and his brother in danger. In complete darkness about Gasters real intentions and previous failed experiments on passengers. All the wile his number continues to go up. He just ignores it, telling himself it's for their freedom.

Finally after almost a year if work Gasters machine to artificially give him a passengers door to our reality is finished, but in doing so he must force one if the brothers numbers to go to zero then highjack their exit door.

He convinces the oldest to finally being his brother along. Still for the most part unknowing about Gasters end game the eldest goes along with letting the lengthy skeleton strap him into the machine they've been working on.

Floweys been lurking in the shadows, monitoring Gasters progress, waiting for the perfect moment to interrupt Gasters plans. Once he sees the beginnings to the brothers exit door form he takes his chance attacking gaster. In their fight most if the machine is damaged. The eldest tries to defend Gaster, but as he's doing so Flowey reveals the monsters true plans, how he was never intending to save them and that they'd most likely be trapped in the train forever just like him.

Between the damage and the energy strain, the door and machinery implode, creating a vacuum into a between space within the tain's reality and ours. The void.

It sucks gaster in and much if the machinery before the rift closes and explodes outwards. Flowey manages to escape, but the boys are not so lucky. The eldest just manages to get his brother out before the entire car is destroyed, left in a partial rift between realities.

The shrapnel from the explosion ended up killing the two in the end, but due to the fact their numbers where artificially triggered to zero and their close proximity to the explosion their palms glow morphes into the infinity symbol while their skeletons became forever integrated into the train as monsters.

This is of course Sans and Papyrus.

Again the close proximity to the explosion left all three of them with odd abilities, including Sans's ability to teleport between cars.

For whatever reason, due it be to the explosion or transformation, only Sans and Flowey have knowledge about the fact the two used to be passengers, while poor Papyrus has no clue about ever being able to leave.

Too guilty about what he's done to them and lack of wanting to traumatized his brother, Sans does everything in his power to make sure Papyrus never finds out. In secret, much like Gaster, he tries to study about non passengers being able to leave the train.

Like the Cat he begins to collect other passengers Tapes and finds a car to stash his stuff and experiments away from Papyrus knowledge. Similar to his basement under the house in Snowden.

The boys new role on the train is to test the passangers and be gate keepers next to certain assigned car exit doors. Papyrus if course takes his job very seriously, giving the passanger vigorous puzzles to perform before being able to exit, while a passanger will probably find Sans asleep next to the exit door , only to see him at the next car door exit also. He has fun messing with them when he feels up to it.

Unable to let go of his past and the guilt, Sans keeps a small piece of his brothers tape as a necklace to remind him that he once was human and could have left the train.

[scabopolis]

lv au week, day 2: super heroes

Title: superbloom Fandom: Veronica Mars Rating: PG-13 for content, R for swears (Veronica writes in her feelings journal and really lets those swears go) Pairing: Logan Echolls/Veronica Mars Other Characters: Mentions of Mac and Meg Additional Tags: Secret identity (again?! what?), unnecessary epistolary literature (does a journal count as epistolary?), half-baked world building, a vague understanding of superhero lore Word Count: ~1,075 Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7

***

Again, written solely because @cubbiegirl and @marshmellowbobcat are earth angels. I even added a title this time so that MB doesn’t have to come up with one. 

Why did I write this as Veronica’s journal? Mostly because it’s a style which seems to be a fanfic right of passage and I haven’t tried it so...here we are.  

I probably owe a lot to other superhero universes and their world building (as in, referring to them as ‘supers’ ala The Incredibles). What are the full extent of Logan and Veronica’s powers? *shrug emoji*

***

Date: February 15 Tracked a low-level Kane agent to a tourist trap bistro in downtown San Diego. Place was packed. Is this the new thing? Shitty men forget to make Valentine’s Day reservations, so they make them for the day after? 

Thought I had the guy but when I mistimed my pulse he metamorphosed into a cockroach and scurried away. 

Best part of the night was the chocolate mousse I got to-go. Despite appearances within, the food wasn’t too bad. 

Date: February 17 Caught up to Cockroach. Real name is Abel Koontz. Slimy guy tried to escape again, but Mac outfitted me with a souped up Morph Choke as backup — emphasis on the choke. Gonna need to recalibrate that a bit, Mackenzie. 

Bonus! Forgot it was laundry day, so had to wear my backup uni. Next time I run into Meg out in the field I’ll have to ask her if she can see my underwear through it. 

Date: February 18 Finally got around to watching season two of The Boys. Where do they get this shit? 

If Piznarski brings up forming some sort of super team for the 7-millionth time at the summit this year, I’m siccing Clayton on him.

Date: February 21 Got into a fight with Mac. Technically my fault. 

I faded while in public, and look, I get it. 

Being detected while living as my alter would be bad. BUT!! Being forced to interact with my ex as he is on a date with a woman who legitimately looks like she could be my doppelganger is very bad. 

Date: February 22 Clarified with Mac: me fading in public did not worry her. Me tripping Leo on purpose as I faded was apparently a problem.

Date: February 24 Cockroach stood me up.

Date: February 25 For all that is good and holy if another fucking cocky cowboy of a super moves to Neptune, I am going to lose my shit. This newest one? Got in my way as I attempted to track Kane, Jr into a warehouse. Fucking Smirky McCowboy stepped in my way and assured me I didn’t want to follow. Something about a dozen armed guards with guns aimed at the door. MAYBE THAT WAS MY PLAN!

(Because, of course the guy ripped a powers page right out of Superman’s book and has x-ray vision.)

(And, his uni? Not hard to tell when a super has money. They’re always the worst.)

Date: February 28 Ran into Smirky McCowboy again. This time outside of a poker game hosted by a real estate developer with connections to Kane. Smirky said it was a coincidence. 

Still no sign of Cockroach. 

Date: March 2 FUCKING HELL. He beat me to it. AGAIN! How is he doing this? 

Date: March 4 Smirky’s name is apparently Logan. Which I learned because I was getting coffee at Willow Grove (just minding my business while covertly eavesdropping on previously mentioned real estate developer) when some guy sat at my table. Unprompted. Uninvited. UNWELCOME.  

Mask or no mask, THAT SMIRK. 

The more concerning thing is that his x-ray vision apparently sees through the skeletal enhancements Mac wired into my mask, meaning he ID’d me right away. 

Date: March 5 Why do they keep coming here? Doesn’t New York have more crime? Go there!

Mac says it’s my fault for busting the Fitzpatricks, outing Kane as the sociopath he is, and helping all those kids find their lost dogs. 

Okay, she only mentioned the first two, but I think the third has value. 

The point is! these hangers-on need to find their own territory.  

Date: March 6 Mac traced at least 70 arrests to Smirky in the Los Angeles area alone. I hate him.

Date: March 10 If he scoops another one of my cases…

Date: March 11 He calls me Supergirl. 

He calls me Supergirl and I want to punch him. 

Mac says Cockroach’s tracker is still active but the signal is being blocked.

Date: March 13 Saw Meg today. She took down her own parents. Fucking savage. God, I love her. She flew me up to American Plaza and we drank champagne to celebrate.  

Oh! And good news! She says my backup uni isn’t see through. 

Date: March 13 Woke up with this terrifying thought: can smirky see through my uni? 

He wouldn’t...right? I mean...he’s an asshole but I don’t think he’s a creep. 

Date: March 16 I punched him. 

Not for the underwear thing! He swears he’s never looked and I weirdly believe him. 

And I didn’t punch him as much as he walked into a pulse. Yes, fine. 

I maybe purposefully put up the pulse to see if his x-ray vision could detect it. But I didn’t tell him to walk into it. 

(He can’t detect it, btw. I did it a second time just to be sure.)

Date: March 18 Found Cockroach. Or, I guess I should say Koontz. He washed up on Dog Beach as his alter. 

Mac said it could be a coincidence but we both know that’s not true. 

Date: March 19 Did I do this? Did I get Cockroach killed? 

Date: March 19 Logan has very good alcohol. 

Date: March 20 Hangovers. Bad. 

Date: March 20 Logan makes very good pancakes. 

Date: March 21 Logan has seen me drunk, which means Logan must be destroyed. 

Date: March 22 In a certain light, the smirk isn’t so bad. 

Date: March 23 Oh god. 

Date: March 24 Oh god.

Do I like him?

Date: March 25 I hate myself. I’m a giant cliché. I apologize to all women supers everywhere. 

Logan swears he can’t see past the new enhancements Mac made to my uni.

He also asked me to dinner. Was tempted to 1) fade, and 2) run away, but I did neither. 

Date: March 26 Adding insult to injury, Smirky McCowboy really knows how to kiss.

Date: March 27 Mac says I shouldn’t be so hard on myself. 

Actually, what she said was that neither he nor I are all that pleasant to be around so we might be meant for each other. 

Date: March 28 He really knows how to do some other things, too. 

Date: March 29 Logan got me a present: surveillance footage of Kane’s mysterious second-in-command with Koontz the night before he was found.

He’s been upgraded to not the absolute worst. 

Date: March 29 To be perfectly clear: we are not a super team. 

Date: March 30 Logan and I are on surveillance detail tonight. 

Maybe I can convince him to stop for some chocolate mousse. 

[crazy4myself]

No Harm List Pt.3

Word Count: 12.8K

Summary: You live in a city where crime runs rampant. One day, you save a young boy’s life, not knowing that he is the most powerful crime lord's heir. And you have just been put on the no harm list. 

Warnings: Violence, explicit language, angst, brief mentions of cannibalism and human trafficking (like literally just the words are used zero detail),

A/n: Sorry theres no gif or banner! I’m loosing the battle of bandwidth in my house and my computer can’t load any images on such a large post. :( On the bright side Jungkook says: women's rights :D

Jimin sighed as he received the text from Jin asking him to bring a dessert to the impromptu family dinner tonight. 

It was his only day off this week and he really wanted to go the full day without getting flour in his hair. He glanced at his clock in disappointment seeing he napped and lazed most of his day away, and decided he would just pick up a box of pastries from Sugar Daddy instead of making something himself. 

Dragging himself out of bed, he pulled on a dark pair of jeans and a pale blue button-up that was only slightly rumpled. He had a little time to kill before he needed to leave, so Jimin wandered out to the front of the house to see if Taehyung was home. He wasn’t, but the sight of the still-warm bowl of ramen on the breakfast bar hinted that he may not have left too long ago. He sighed as he dumped the bowl in the sink and started the dishes. His roommate wasn’t inherently messy, neither of them was. 

Their apartment was never spotless, but it was clean and comfortable lived in, and that’s how Jimin preferred it.

 But since Tae’s promotion as one of Namjoon’s spiders a few months back Jimin found himself picking up after him a bit more since Tae was always being called out of the house at obscure times. Jimin told Teahyung he needed to set boundaries and be willing to tell their leader no on the occasion, he would understand, but Tae was in love with the task. The boy was enthralled with adopting a new persona and sweet-talking information out of unsuspecting targets. He loved being someone else and living a different life for a short time. 

Taehyung was an expert at stealth, but he didn’t need it when he could become whoever he wanted in a blink of an eye. 

No Taehyung didn’t like to hide in the shadows like the other spiders in Alcor who acted more like flies on the wall, he liked to look his victim in the eye and unravel their secrets with his charm. A true spider trapping his prey in a web before he feeds. 

It worried Jimin to no end, he still didn’t know if he preferred him in the dangers of the streets pushing pills, or in the dens of the most dangerous and powerful people in the city risking getting caught in his own web of lies. 

Jimin liked to play it safe. He works off most of his debt to Namjoon through working at Sugar Daddy, the bakery Jin opened two years ago. There he maintains a regular job and provides his more specialized services in the back. His other work for BTS kept him off the frontlines less than Taehyung or any of the members really. It was rare for Namjoon to have jobs or missions that called for his skillset, so he was occasionally recruited to a job that requires more numbers and brute force. 

Jimin wasn’t a bad fighter or a bad shot by any means; he just didn’t like the violence and preferred taking care of his enemies from a distance instead of risking the lives of the people he loved to put them on the front line. His affinity for chemistry made that possible.

Jimin finished washing the dishes, drying a handful before placing the rest on the drying rack before slipping on his boots and heading downtown. The bakery was within walking distance of his house, and he didn’t feel like dealing with parking, so he opted to leave his car and make the walk to the Den. 

He passed through the familiar storefront of Sugar Daddy skipping the long line and heading directly for the back where he gathered an assortment of fruit tarts and small pies into 2 boxes, silently daring Jin and Namjoon to add the expense to his tab before making his way to the Den. 

Sugar Daddy’s was on the corner of a growingly popular part of the 7th Ward, the growing storefronts down 28th street (most of which were funded by BTS) filled the air with the power of local business, the vintage buildings paired with their modern interiors was making the area grow into a more Hipster part of town. Which in turn was good for business as more university students began making the commute from campus to buy overpriced artisan soap wrapped in burlap. 

A few blocks from the bakery Jimin turned into one of the nicer neighborhoods in the 7th Ward, the grass appeared more vibrant, and the houses grew in size as he made his way down the road until coming to a stop in front of a large Art Deco style house at the end of Gardenia Circle. 

The three-story house had two wings and looked far too grand for the street rats that occupied it. The property was one of the family properties Jin inherited from his Uncle when he passed, one of the few relatives that still kept in contact with him. Jin and Namjoon both wanted to sell it feeling it was far too grand for any of BTS’s needs, but Yoongi convinced them to keep it, the property was already paid for they just had to pay the maintenance bills, and the gang was growing exponentially at the time, so it wasn’t unreasonable to believe the gang would grow into it. 

The Den has had many forms, but the same concept over the near-decade BTS has been around. 

When BTS first formed Namjoon believed in the philosophy that every member of BTS would have somewhere warm to stay each night. The promise that was made when members joined and took the Tattoo was they would always have a roof over their heads and food in their stomachs as long as they stayed loyal. 

If they ever recruited someone who was in a tough spot they were welcome to stay at the Den while they get back on their feet. It also acted as a safe house for people who might have had their cover blown during jobs and needed somewhere to lay low (although BTS had actual safehouses now, keeping a member with a warrant for their arrest in the same place as their leader was not ideal). 

Once the inner circle expanded, the rooms have slowly morphed into ones the members use regularly between jobs or the younger members like Jimin, Tae, and Jungkook lived in and were raised by their crime lord dads. Once the Den was upgraded for the first time it was done so with the intention that each member of the inner circle would have their own room to stay in. Despite having their own apartments by then It was just nice to be together and always have that option. It was also becoming too high a risk to welcome just anyone into the Den. 

The second Den was compromised and raided by a rival gang who infiltrated them two years back, Namjoon was still recovering from the betrayal, and the Den was forced to relocate. That's what brought BTS to Gardenia Circle. 

BTS has made too many enemies nowadays to trust so easily. But with that growing list comes a growing number of resources at their disposal now. People who need somewhere to hide out after a tough job can easily get a room on the 7th floor of the Bulletproof. A floor where rooms were always reserved for the gang members. They also had a number of safe houses and small apartments at their disposal throughout the city. They even had one on the top floor of the bakery where Jimin worked, although Jimin often used it for other overnight adventures…

Their new home had a security gate and was also decked out in surveillance camera, that Suga or one of his minions were constantly monitoring, They even had two guys running security constantly to keep the Den safe. The large building did not just act as a home to the inner circle, but also a number of resources and savings BTS use for everyday business to keep the gang running. 

Despite its larger size the Den still managed to feel homey under Jin’s watch. The interior was completely modernized at this point. Jin and Yoongi saw to its transformation over the years. Taking out nearly all the interior walls that divided the public spaces of the first floor of the house so that the living room, kitchen, and dining room were a seamless area for BTS to be together. Down the hall from the living room lead to the ‘man cave’ area of the house that was best suited for drinking and gaming as well as a door to the garage.The only other doors on the first floor lead to the bathroom and the East wing of the house. 

In the west wing there were enough bedrooms for each of the seven members of the inner circle and any unexpected guest. Although Namjoon, Jin, Yoongi, and Jungkook were the only ones who solely resided at the house. The West Wing also held the gym and training area where the guys kept up with their fighting skills. Hoseok once pushed for an onsite shooting range to practice at, but Namjoon insisted on using the facility downtown, claiming it would be too noisy for him to properly get peace and quiet. 

The East wing was closed off from the rest of the house and was used strictly for business, Namjoon and Jin studies, and the conference rooms where BTS met with trusted clients. The top floor of the wing was where Yoongi and most of his surveillance crew reported for work.

 Upon entering the house Jimin's nose was immediately hit with a flood of spices and savory smells. Jin was in the kitchen stirring at a pan of caramelizing onions. Jimin greeted him and set the pastries on the breakfast bar hands immediately flying to his pockets to check his phone and wallet were still there. It was Alcorn after all where you either rob or get robbed.

“Dinner will be ready in ten,” Jin said in greeting before turning to peek into the box. 

“Did you buy these?” he asked, confused. 

“They’re from yesterday, couldn’t put them out on the floor,” Jimin lied as he headed for the couch where Jungkook was working on his homework. 

“Did you have a good day at school?” he teased ruffling the younger's hair. Jimin still didn’t quite understand how Jungkook could choose to go back into debt with Namjoon in order to go to college, the kid had the chance to cut his ties and walk away before he even graduated high school, taking every job they came across and paying off his bail and any major living cost he accumulated since Namjoon took him in. The boy was brilliant and talented and while like Jimin BTS was the only family Jungkook will have he still wished to see the boy walk away from the life sentence that comes with taking the tattoo when he had the chance. 

“Hyung,” he whined slightly before turning to look at him, “stop, I'm not a kid,”  he said betting his hands away. 

Jimin smiled giving Jungkook a look that said he believed the exact opposite before huffing a laugh, “I guess you aren’t, so what's the verdict on your punishment?” he asked as he reclined on the couch, “Did you get grounded?” he asked with a taunt and Jimin groaned. 

“I have to help open the bakery for the next week, and help train the next round of recruits” he grumbled. 

Jimin laughed, “You love teaching the newbs how to fight,” 

“Yeah but not on Saturday mornings,” 

“You also have to do inventory in the warehouse next month,” Namjoon reminded as he came down the stairs, 

“Owch inventory, your heartless Joonie” Jimin said with a taunting smile as he got up to help Jin set the table. Jungkook followed wordlessly grabbing seven glasses from the cabinet. 

“Well it would be one thing to go prance around the 9th ward like he owns the place, it’s another to sell to a client that’s been blacklisted since before you joined,” Namjoon said with a glare. 

“You tried to sell to Sylvia?” Jimin asked in shock. He remembered Jungkook mentioning the idea to him about a month ago, but Jimin thought he finally let it go when Namjoon shut him down. 

“He was willing to pay twice what we were selling for,” Jungkook defended. 

“The dude’s a cannibal!” Jimin all but shouted in disbelief “And a rapist, and I'm pretty sure he abuses animals” he listed as an afterthought. Sylvia was one of the many monsters in the 9th ward, known for trafficking exotic animals many go there to buy snakes, peacocks, big cats, or what other kinds of odd pet you would need. But he was also known for collecting men and women as well, and the ones he didn’t sell he indulged in himself in a multitude of ways. 

“Everyone in Alcorn is terrible, and he was just buying a sedative for whatever shipment of cats he has coming in to keep his employees from getting hurt,” Jungkook said in weak defense 

“Yeah but he-” 

“Enough talk,” Namjoon said, cutting Jimin off before he could further elaborate on how there was a special place in hell for guys like Sylvia. Namjoon lowered his voice as he watched Teahyung and Yoongi come into the house followed by Hoseok, “you tried to deal with someone on the blacklist, you violated major protocol and almost got killed in the process, you're on probation. But we don’t need the entire gang to know about the mishap, got it.” sending a pointed look to both Jungkook and Jimin.

“Got it,” they both responded and Jungkook had the decency to look a little guilty as Taehyung came into the room. 

Quickly the room filled with mindless chatter as the guys all greeted each other before fixing their plates and taking a seat at the round marble dining table. 

“So why the emergency meeting, “ Jimin asked bluntly, breaking the silence that overtook the room the moment they got Jin’s cooking in their mouths. 

Namjoon looked up at him irritably, “I was going to wait until we finished eating to talk to business,”

“It’s rude to leave people in suspense like that besides were good at multitasking,” Jimin countered with a bratty smile as he stuck his fork in his mouth

“Well I actually have a few interesting jobs that came up over the weekend. I also,” Namjoon sighed as he gathered his thoughts, “wanted to talk about the terms of the newest addition to the No Harm List,”

“What do you mean the terms?” Jungkook asked breaking the short silence that fell over the table, “I figured we just protect her like we do everyone else,” 

“Everyone else is two people, Jungkook.” Namjoon “And this is different Lena and Dax are old and keep to themselves. Their livelihood is in that diner by campus. We have them employ a member or two from BTS and they’re set and safe. Your girl is all over the place,” he explained Jungkook didn’t know if he liked or hated the pointed term.

“Whoa whoa hold up, your girl?” Hoseok asked, confused. He heard JK ran into some trouble over the weekend, but he didn’t realize it was bad enough to mean whoever got involved to be added to the No Harm List. “Can someone please catch me up on what’s going on?” He asked as he took in the brace on the younger's arm and healed his black eye. 

“Kook decided to go through a stroll down the 9th Ward alone last week, some Black Tips snuck up on him and got the best of him, He was so desperate some college girl had to intervene and save his ass,” Suga grumbled with a teasing smirk.

“Ya know I’m getting real tired of these implications,” Jungkook scoffed, letting his fork fall to his plate with a rattled. “I messed up big time and someone had to help me. That’s my bad, and I’m really ashamed of it. I’m not ashamed of the fact that the person that saved me was a woman, but I’m sure as hell tired of you ass holes acting as I should be.” 

Jin beamed proudly at the younger, “You're absolutely right Jungkookie. She’s a hero, and it’s wrong of us to imply otherwise” Jin said, sending a small glare at Yoongi and Namjoon who looked down at their plates, “But her being a woman does complicate things a little more. In a city like this it makes her all the more vulnerable, and even more important we try our best to keep her safe from threats we normally wouldn’t think about. It's important we talk about those things.”

Meanwhile, Hoseok paled as he made the connection between y/n and Jungkook. Jungkook looked at Jin sheepishly and as Hobi took his younger in he saw it, Bambi. Hoseok clenched his jaw and looked over and Jin across the table, who was not meeting his eyes. Jin was the only member who really knew who y/n was staying with him that summer and who y/n was to him. It was Jin’s job to know everything, he had to have connected the dots beforehand and didn’t give Hobi any kind of warning. 

“What's there to discuss,” he said roughly, his voice low drawing all eyes his way.

Namjoon hesitated feeling the change in the mood. Hoseok was like a ray of sunshine, so when he was upset you could feel the temperature drop. He shifted in his seat before he spoke confirming Hoseok's suspicion that he too knew who ‘Cinderella’ was

“We need to decide exactly how many resources are we going to expand on her, how involved in her life do we want to get to keep her safe?”

“What do you mean how involved? Isn’t the whole point of this to keep her safe from a distance, were not about to initiate her,” Hoseok snapped. 

“There's a bit of a compromising matter,” Suga mumbled all eyes shifted to him, “Y/n was wearing her work polo when she intervened, the Black Tips know where she works, and it doesn't take much to trail her after her shift the idiot walks home from work each night”

“Watch it” both Jungkook and Hoseok snapped in usion looking at each other a little shocked. 

Suga continues unphased, “The safest thing to do for this girl is get her fired from her job, but we don’t know her. Jin pulled that she's a college senior. So maybe she's about to get a job, but we have no clue if getting her fired is just going to put her out on the street and in even more danger.”

“She’s going to grad school, she needs that job.” Hoseok blurted

Jungkook looked at him, “You know her?”

“She’s a family friend. She's going to med school and she's going to get out of the west side as soon as she finishes school. She's not getting involved with BTS, it will only hold her back” he grumbled

Everyone stiffed at the unspoken words ‘like BTS holds him back’ Hobi had a chance to get out the west side before his sister died. He even had plans to have his tattoo removed after his sister graduated college. He wanted a better life for both of them. 

“So we get her a new job?” Tae offered with a shrug. 

“She doesn’t owe us a debt, we can’t just hire her somewhere, we have a system,” Namjoon started. 

“You're right, but we do have a debt to her” Jungkook started leaning forward. “Think about it, she compromised the safety of her employment to save me, we offer her new employment. It’s an exchange. Hobi said she's going to be a doctor, she’ll quit the job when she doesn't need it, that can be our way of ensuring her safety while she stays on the Westside. It would be way easier to keep up with her routines. Not to mention if she works in our territory we know no will touch her,” he said proudly with a smile. 

Namjoon couldn’t help but smile as well. That business minor may pay off after all. 

“The bakery does need a new set of hands since we moved Monica to the new club,” Jimin offered 

“Y/n’s next shift is tomorrow, we either get this taken care of before then, or we need someone to be at the store before she goes in incase they’re waiting there to gang up on her,” Hoseok informed

“I can have her boss do it tonight” Yoongi offered taking out his phone,

“Whoa whoa whoa you can't just-” Hobi struggled “How do we get her to work at the bakery”

“Tell her to apply,” Jin said simply

Hobi’s head was near spinning; this was happening too fast. You were too close to the part of his world that he never wanted you to touch. She was going to work at a BTS business, probably befriending Jin and Jimin in the process. Hobi looked at Jimin quickly, the womanizer already smiling at the thought of his cute new co-worker. “You don’t touch her,” he warned. 

“She's off-limits to all of you, got it” he pointed his stare at JK who slumped in his chair.

After a few orders of business involving a promising job for Hoseok to take on in the next month, and a round of dessert, Namjoon announced the meeting adjourned, the guys immediately wondered their way to the living room to start a round of video games, an unspoken tradition. “Hobi you want in this round?” Taehyung asked by holding up a controller. 

“Nah, I'm going to pass tonight. I have some stuff to do.” 

Taehyung shook his head solemnly as if he understood the weight in Hoseok's chest, and he might for all Hoseok knew he felt like the kid was capable of reading minds, before plopping on the couch between Jimin and Suga. Jungkook and Jin were in the kitchen washing up. Namjoon must have already retreated to his study, he’s been slammed since the opening of the club. Hoseok wished the other guys a quick goodnight before heading out. Hoseok made one stop by a nearby Deli picking up a large order of kimchi cheese fries and a 6 pack of apple cider beer before heading straight for your apartment. 

You were only mildly surprised when Hoseok showed up unannounced. You told him you had the evening off and that was basically an invitation for him to come over. You were already dressed down in a pair of black sweatpants and a white tank top, your hair in a messy knot atop your head, your bangs pushed out of your face with your glasses frames even though the oils from your hair always streak the lenses.

“I’m not going out tonight,” you answer with your arms crossed, taking the way he was still dressed like a respectable human. 

“Good, because I was hoping for a night in,” he said as he held up his offering. Your eyes lit up at the sight of the familiar grocery bag and you assured him in. 

“You spoil me,” You said as you walked into your kitchen to grab two forks. Hobi slipped off his shoes before letting himself in the living room to get comfortable. He set the food down on the coffee table, noting that it was already littered with your laptop and a textbook. You must have been studying, you never did stop really. “Your sweats and stuff are in my bedroom in you wanna get comfy,” you offered as you sat cross-legged on the couch. “I’m fine I don’t want to keep you up too late,” he sighed as he unbuttoned his shirt a few notches to better relax. 

“Anything good on?” he asked nodding towards the TV that was playing some mindless home improvement channel. 

“The Bachelor comes on in 10 minutes, can we make fun of them?” you offered with a smile. 

This was your routine watching shitty TV and movies and making fun of it together. Other than marvel movies it was hard for the two of you to watch anything serious because you both talk over everything on the screen. Except for that one time you put on Vampire Diaries as a joke, and you both enjoyed it? You remember last winter being filled with near all-nighters as you were both captivated by the Salvator brothers. Not one of your proudest moments. 

You guys got through the intro, munching happily on kimchi fries and placing bets on who was going to cry before the end of the first date before you decided to break the ice. 

“So are you going to tell me the real reason you came over?”

Hoseok looked at you confused at the tail end of a fry hanging out his mouth as he struggled to stuff his face. “Wudd ya mmean” he asked through a mouth full. You wrinkled your nose in disgust. 

“Kimchi fries and beer, you're trying to make me compliant, and it’s working, so what do you need?” you clarified calling him out on his obvious bribe. 

He looked at you guiltily before taking a swig of beer and clearing his throat, “I want you to consider quitting your job,” he said simply. 

You froze, not expecting that at all, “If this is about the other night-”

“It’s not just about the other night,” he cut you off “All though yeah that is a big deal, the job is sketchy as hell the hours suck, and it doesn’t even pay that well,” 

You don’t know why you felt so defensive, suddenly ready to defend the honor of you convenience store job with a joust to the death, but your felt your face flush as you argued “929 is a good place to work, the owners are nice and understanding about school, the pay doesn't suck it's 50 cents above minimum wage and its close to home. Besides I can’t just not work-”

“I’m not asking you to not work,” Hobi started his voice overly soft the way he does when he tries to calm you down. It only riled you up. “I have a friend who works at this bakery, it’s really nice, they said they’re understaffed right now. The hours are just as nice and they pay $2 above minimum wage plus tips, the atmosphere is nice, and I think you would like it” he said simply. 

You tried to swallow down the lump of pride fighting its way up to your throat, You knew he was looking out for you and just wanted the best for you, but your feelings were hurt you felt like your job didn't seem good enough to him. He was always criticizing your choices. Claiming to be looking out for you. 

“There’s nothing wrong with my current job, and you know it”

You held his stare but didn’t open his mouth to argue. You could almost see the rusty gears in his stupid head spinning as he tried to think of a response that would rile you up more. The way he was tip-toeing around you and not calling you out for your bullshit excuse set you on edge.

“What aren’t you telling me?” you prompted and you watched the hesitation before he replied 

“Y/n, I’m not hiding anything, the job is available I thought it was a good opportunity and-”

“You’re a terrible liar” you cut him off with a scoff as you reached for your beer

“And you’re stupid if you think it’s safe to go back there, y/n they know where you work,” he pleaded

“No, they don’t I told you Ju- Bambi and I got away and hid in the shop if they saw us we would have known,”

“But they saw you in your work polo if they want to go looking for you that would be the first place to start,” he countered, you head your beer to your lips as you froze. 

“How did you know I was in uniform,” you asked softly 

He spluttered “I didn’t, I’m just assuming you-”

“No, no you seemed confident, you know something, don’t you?” you accused your anger sputtering back to life. 

“No I don’t know anything, y/n I swear,”

“Get out, you know I can’t stand liars” you hissed frustrated

“I’m not-” you shot him a withering glare that made him shut his mouth only confirming your suspicion. You watched him with disinterest as he got up leaning toward the table, “leave the beer,” you ordered as you watched his hand go near the six-pack. He only placed a business card on the table, the curly font reading ‘Sugar Daddy.’ You shoveled fries in your mouth in response trying your hardest to convey your petty anger through the action. You listened to him shuffle out the door and heard the click of the lock as he locked it after himself before he was gone. The bastard always looked out for your safety and it made you sick.  But still despite your pride what heated your body you felt goosebumps on your arms as the forewarned threat lingered in the back of your mind. 

 ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You checked your watch again nervously as you stood at the edge of the sidewalk outside of Sugar Daddy, you were 25 minutes early, and you always prided yourself on being punctual, but 25 minutes seemed like just a little too long to wait inside the business before your interview. You didn’t want to seem awkward. You told yourself 15 minutes was an appropriately early time to prove your punctuality without seeming like a nuisance. You watched as patrons flitted in and out of the bakery carrying boxes of pastries and fancy looking coffees as you tried to process the past two days. 

Two days ago you got a phone call right before leaving your shift from your boss telling you not to come in today and that she had to let you go. You tried to beg her to keep you on staff, saying you were fine with taking fewer hours or even a small cut in wages if that would help, but she insisted there was no other way. The prospect of being unemployed hit you like a truck and your first instinct was to call Hoseok frantic and not knowing what to do. But you reminded yourself after the first ring that you were mad at him. For what exactly? For insulting a job that didn’t want you anymore?

You wondered what you did that could have qualified you for being fired, you always prided yourself on being a good and diligent worker, even getting a small raise after your first year at the shop. You were on the edge of your entire routine changing as you got closer to graduation, and the thought of losing your one constant made you want to unravel. 

You knew if you let the phone ring Hoseok would come over immediately to console you saying it was for the best. But you didn’t want to hear what was best for you from him. It took you the entire night of tossing and turning before you decided you would call the bakery the next morning. With the nearing of summer, part-time jobs were being gobbled up by high schoolers, and you didn’t have enough saved up to be unemployed for too long. 

You hated the thought of a handout, but at the end of the day, you were qualified for the job and thought yourself more than capable. The owner Seokjin was kind to you over the phone, telling you Hoseok had already put in a good word for you. You ignored the twinge in your heart and made yourself focus on the positive. The atmosphere seemed fun and the promise of early morning hours would work great with your current and future class schedule.    

So here you were, in a white button-up and slacks wanting to appear professional for the interview. Contemplating what you would do if this didn’t work out. You tried to ignore the small drop of sweat you felt forming at the back of your neck and running down your back, hoping you weren’t about to sweat through your blouse and decided maybe it was for the best if you just went inside now, in the safety of the air conditioning to maintain your professional appearance. Your makeup was light, some foundation and a light dusting of blush across your cheeks, you kept your eye makeup neutral and decided to go for a lip gloss instead of a colored lipstick, not wanting to have to worry about maintaining the pigment in a setting where you would be doing so much talking. 

When you entered the bakery you were hit with the sweet scent of pastries and baking bread mixed with the jolting smell of coffee. Your mouth started watering. The display cabinet by the register was filled with a colorful array of sweet treats, and the far side wall was made up of baskets filled with different loaves of bread people would walk up and choose from. You suddenly thought about backing out of the interview simply so you could maintain your figure which you knew would be at risk when you were surrounded by carbs all day and didn't have an ounce of self-control. 

You stood near the wall taking it all in when you saw a handsome man wearing an apron, with a smiling lump of dough with the word ‘Weirdough’ embroidered above it, approach you. He wore a light pink sweater that matched the icing on a number of the pastries with a pair of jeans and converse. He smiled at you and after further evaluation of his broad shoulders and full lips you confirmed that he was the most handsome man you had ever seen. 

“You must be y/n” he greeted, taking in your professional attire and the small portfolio you held with a death grip in your hand. You nodded unable to find your voice and his smile grew. “I'm Kim Seokjin, the owner,” he said offering you his hand, you accepted it hoping your hands weren’t as clammy as you felt they were and noticed the patch of ink peeking through the rolled-up sleeve of his forearm, but at this angle, you weren’t able to make out the design. 

 “Come on to the back and we can have a talk,” he said with a nod of his head before leading the way. You followed him past the counter and into the back where you saw a blond man in the corner kneading dough with a swirl of cinnamon coloring it.   

“Do you have any allergies, y/n?” he asked looking over his shoulder as you followed him through the kitchen to what you could only assume to be his office.  You shook your head and he sighed with relief, “thank goodness, we make an effort to accommodate all allergies and intolerances in our menu, but it’s a bit harder to escape in the kitchen. I once interviewed someone with a cinnamon allergy, and let's just say that did not go well,” he let out a squeaking laugh and you couldn’t help but smile in return.

“You’re shy for a friend of Hoseok’s although I wouldn’t be surprised if he did all the talking, the only time that man is quiet is when he has a mouthful of food,” 

You let out a startled laugh at the slight jab as you closed the office door and helped yourself to the chair across his cluttered desk adjusting the pillow behind you slightly as you settled. The feeling of tension in your shoulders ease and the knots in your stomach loosened as you took in the cozy office. You took in Jin’s warm presence, still looking so casual even when sitting behind a desk in the business he owned and found yourself able to relax around him.

“Not at all it just takes a minute for my social battery to warm up, he’ll be the one telling me to shut up once I get started,” you said with a smile forcing a persona of confidence up your throat. 

You learned at a young age you truly could fake it till you make it in most social settings. Making your body language appear more confident than you felt. You just needed a few minutes of observing whoever it was you were meeting, formulating how to match their mood. The right amount of humor in your voice, the right amount of attitude. Many thought you were clever and funnier than you actually were. When really you were just a good listener, making a habit of referencing jokes they already made earlier in the conversation to charm them, and get them talking about themselves more before deciding which side of yourself to show them. 

Many could misunderstand your attempt at social survival as you being fake, but you saw it more as adapting to your environment. You never pretended to be someone you weren't; you merely highlighted qualities of yourself that would be most appealing to the setting you were in. Most people do it unintentionally. You were just more aware of it, had to make more of an effort in doing it, to overcome your own anxieties.

Jin grinned as he rolled the sleeves of his sweater back down his arm, you again glimpsed the flash of a tattoo making out a familiar geometric shape. “I understand that completely, I’m the same way,” he offered as he leaned back in his chair. And you felt warm as you realized maybe you wouldn’t have to ride out this interview on false confidence after all. Seokjin seemed to be a kind and understanding man, his warm smile putting you at ease despite the interview setting. 

The two of you continued on with the interview asking the usual questions before Jin asked you to detail your previous work experience at 929. Afterward, he gave you a brief overview of what your duties at the bakery would entail; baking, taking care of the cash register, making coffees, and cleaning. You were a little intimidated by the thought of being responsible for preparing food, but he assured you you wouldn’t be left in the kitchen alone until they felt you were comfortable. 

“So could you start your training tomorrow afternoon?”  he asked as he opened his calendar adjusting the glasses on his nose. 

“You want to- I’m hired?” you asked in surprise. 

Jin smiled at you warmly, “You seem more than capable, and we are in need of a new set of hands, so if you’re still wanting to work here then yes” 

“O-ofcourse, yes thank you, thank you so much,” you said shaking his hand. 

Seokjin gave you some paperwork to fill out before excusing himself to go check on a few things. You took in the office now that you had a moment to yourself appreciating the slight messiness to the desk that was covered in stacks of paperwork, and a few sheets sprawled in handwritten notes of what looked to be recipes, but overall the room was clean. The bookshelves behind the desk were filled with cookbooks of all kinds, a few business-related titles, and to your surprise what appeared to be a chemistry book or two on the bottom shelves were also accompanied by a few knick-knacks and Mario figurines all strategically placed and dust-free. Above the door was a small wooden plaque that said “All you knead is Love”  underlined by a rolling pin. The room overall felt cozy and homey, but maybe that was just the pillow in your chair with the phrase “Espresso yourself” in loving needlepoint, that was doing the talking. 

You gave him your banking information and student citizenship card to document in the system so he could add you to payroll, and within an hour you found yourself walking out of the office with plans to be back at 1 pm tomorrow to start your training. 

“Were asking you to come so late because the morning rush is our busiest time, I would hate for you to be overwhelmed,” Seokjin clarified as he walked you out of the front of the store. 

“Please take something home with you before you go,” he offered, sliding open one of the pastry cabinet doors. This couldn’t be real. Your luck couldn't be this good. You grinned as you selected a flakey blackberry strudel pastry that was braided in a long rope and covered in sparkling sugar. It was delicious, and then you were ready to make your way out the door. 

That is until a familiar face made his way out from the kitchen.

“Hey, boss where did you- oh hello princess what are you doing here?”  Jimin purred with a Cheshire smile 

“Jimin,” Jin warned softly before turning to you with a customer service smile, genuine, but not as warm as the one he revealed to you before. 

“This is Jimin,” Seokjin introduced gesturing at the blond in front of you, “He’s going to be one of your co-workers, he’ll actually be here to help with your training tomorrow.” he introduced “But it seems like you already know each other” he voice ended in a question 

Jimin looked you up and down with a smile as he swept his bangs back from his forehead, you shifted your weight from leg to leg feeling so flustered under his gaze that you almost missed the geometric tattoo on his forearm twin to the one Seokjin had on his,  “We've crossed paths once or twice, I thought you preferred to go by Ella around these parts?” Jimin asked with a knowing look his voice intensifying with his inflection  

“Is that true?” Jin asked his voice laced with concern

You swallowed keeping your eyes on Jimin even as you turned your head to Jin and nodded accepting the protection Jimin offered, “I know my family name isn’t as easy on Alcorn's preferred tongue,” you offered as explanation letting your native accent poke through a bit more to sell your point. 

Jin raised an eyebrow but nodded in understanding, “In that case, I’ll put Ella on your name tag if that makes you more comfortable.” And with that you took your cue to go, your head spinning as you made your way down the block pastry still clamped in your hand.

“Do you think the cover name is really necessary?” Jin asked as he made his way to the register reliving Monic for her ten. 

“Hoseok said she didn’t want her to be affiliated with BTS after she leaves the Westside, and it’s the name Jungkook gave her the night we met. I figured it would appease both of them.” Jimin offered, “besides you have to admit, it is kinda sweet,” he said with a smile Jin rolled his eyes. 

“Jungkook really called her Cinderella, I swear he could romanticize roadkill if you let him think about it for too long,” Jin said with a huff.  “At least she managed to get a cute nickname out of it,” he added as an afterthought. 

“Cute name for a cute girl” Jimin's smile was a little too predatory for Jin’s taste. 

“Yah, get back in the kitchen, what am I paying you for?” the elder ordered with a smack to his shoulder. 

 ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You found yourself standing outside of Sugar Daddy at 12:45p.m. the next day, determined to keep your reputation for punctuality, and smiled at Jin as you came in. 

You wore a white blouse with a pair of light jeans and yellow flats for a pop of color. You were still unsure of how formal or casual to dress for work, having a uniform at your last job gave you no point of reference, so you elevated your casual attire by accessorizing with a pair of yellow dangling earrings the same color as your shoes and a matching silk scarf you wrapped around your hair tie, letting the long ends with a pattern of honeycomb and bees fall just short of your ponytail. You felt like the soft color pallet of the outfit would help you match the vibe of the bakery better, but you may have to get more creative with your wardrobe if you made a habit of it since a majority of your closet was black.

“Ella,” Jin greeted as you made your way to the counter hovering as you were unsure of whether or not to join him behind it. “I’m glad you're a little early, I had something come up that afternoon that I can't seem to get out of, so I wanted to take you in the back and get you started in the kitchen before I have to go. Jimin will train you upfront after that,” he explained before bringing you back in the kitchen where Jimin was frosting sugar cookies with seasonally appropriate designs. You didn’t remember artistic talent being part of the job descriptions, so you hope that task was reserved for him. 

Jimin gave you a kind but unusually quiet smile as he looked up from his work taking his silent cue to head up to the front. You didn’t know what you expected from him today, but the mild mannerism surprised and confused you a bit. Finding out he was your coworker set your nerves on edge yesterday, you had to face the fact that your adventures from last week may not be something you could put behind you. And the fact that you felt more eagerness than dread was a whole other concern you weren’t ready to unbox just yet.

 You wondered exactly what would come from working at a ‘gangster bakery.’ 

The thought of a gangster bakery was so odd you felt silly for being worried about it. You didn’t feel like you were in danger per se, you recognized the symbol on Jimin and Seokjins forearm as the same one that marked Hoseok’s. If this was his way of bringing you into his world after being closed off for so long you weren’t entirely opposed to it. You knew he loved you and wanted to keep you safe. The thought of Hoseok being connected to the night you met Jungkook simultaneously put you at ease and fed your worries.  

It made the unknowns of that night less intimidating. Hoseok being in the same gang as the group of men who know where you live meant he could possibly protect you from them. But the thought of Hoseok being affiliated with that kind of violence also made you so nervous it put your stomach in knots. 

You also realized Hoseok knowing them didn’t mean you were safe. It was stupid for you to assume so, but having a job with them and getting to know them better gave you a chance to evaluate your situation a bit better. That's what you were hoping at least. 

“Ella?” Jin questioned pulling you from your thoughts. You looked up startled to see you had fixated on the ink on his forearm while your thoughts had run wild. 

“I’m sorry what did you say?” you asked flushed and you bit at the skin on your bottom lip. 

“I said let’s get you an apron,” he said hold out the gray canvas to you. It was then that you saw he was wearing a different apron from yesterday, today said ‘Donut worry. Be happy.”

You unfolded your apron to find it blank, but lined with pockets at the waistline and two tortoise shelled buttons where the straps connected to the top, and unnecessary but fashionable detail. “Don’t worry, I’ll have your embroidered once we find the right pun,” Jin assured as if it was an actual concern. 

Your time in the kitchen went by quickly, after a thorough tour of where all the supplies were he showed you how to navigate the iPad that had all the recipes currently on the menu. The recipes were written out in nice steps that made it near impossible to mess it up. Or so Jin thought until you got in the kitchen. 

The first accident happened when you got to the mixer, you were making a classic chocolate chip recipe. The measuring of ingredients went by easily, your time in the labs had served you well. But you had never used such a fancy piece of machinery in the kitchen. You forgot to lock the blender down, so when you pushed the dile to turn it on, putting it at max, butter quickly flew out of the metal bowl and right onto Jin’s cheek. You were both horrified and amused by the shocked sound that ripped through his throat. And had to stifle your laughter as he excused himself to wash up in the bathroom mumbling about being worried about breaking out. He decided that later that night he would write directions for all the equipment in the bakery. 

Once the cookies were in the oven you were tasked with preparing some cupcakes so you could practice frosting. Any downtime you thought you would get from the pastries cooking was spent cleaning and weighing out the ingredients to the next thing. Two dozen cookies and a dozen muffins later you were finally faced with your worst fear, the decoration station. The cupcakes had cooled and you were given the task to pile them high with a swirl of frosting, place a strawberry in the pile at just the right angle, and drizzle white chocolate over it artistically. You would rather dissect a frog. After two failed attempts, Jin took pity and decided to show you his technique for a third time, when his alarm went off. 

“Ella, I hate to cut us short, but I need to get going, you can head upfront with Jimin if you want.”

You did not want. 

But you smiled brightly at him with a cheery ‘of course’ and wished him a good afternoon before heading to the front of the bakery. Behind the counter, Jimin was leaning across the register scrolling through his phone in boredom. He fumbled to put his phone up quickly when he heard you come through the door.

 “Gosh you scared me I thought you were Jin,” he sighed as you approached, carefully as you balanced a tray of cupcakes in your arms.

“Sorry to disappoint?” you said hesitantly as you set down the tray on the countertop tugging at the skin on your bottom lip subconsciously as you focused on keeping the tall towers of icing from tipping. .

“How did baking 101 go, I don’t smell anything burning,” he said, making easy conversation before raising an eyebrow at your sloppy decor job. 

You sighed, “I’m surprised he hasn't fired me yet” you near groaned as you debated your employment. Jimin laughed.

“Well at least you only got a little flour in your hair,” he teased gesturing toward the near-white strand, “Oh no!” You gasped  searching for a reflective surface to assure you were presentable. “Relax it comes with the job, I get flour in all kinds of places,” he amended. 

“No one wants to hear about your places,” a deep voice broke startling you. You looked up to see a grinning V standing across from you at the counter, you hadn’t even noticed he was there when you came in. 

“Oh, it’s you,” you stated dumbly as you turned to Jimin. Tae tilled his head in an oddly felin gestur his curls shifting atop his head as he took you in. 

“It’s always a pleasure to see you too my darling El, got any business?” he smirked as you watched him pluck a strawberry from your cupcake and pop it in his mouth. 

“Hey, I was going to sell those,” you snapped ignoring his comment as he reached for another one of the berries.

“No you weren’t,” Taehyung replied simply between chews, “they’re ugly” he said punctuating the point as he ate a third strawberry. You turned to Jimin in hopes of him defending your honor, but he only smiled at you confirming your decorating deficiency.   

“Alright, that enough,” you hissed, pulling the tray away from him, he chuckled softly before retreating to his side of the counter space right as Seokjin walked out the kitchen decked out in a full suit. It was at that moment you realized Taehyung was dressed in formal attire as well. 

“How do I look Ella?” Jin asked with a confident smile. You started at him wide-eyed glancing quickly at Jimin as you debated the HR policies you read in your hiring contract before settling with a safe “Umm very handsome, sir” 

“Oh god you’ll only make it worse,” Jimin groaned right as Jin gave a confident, “I know,” in response. 

“We should get going,” Tae said looking over to you with a grin “It was a pleasure seeing you, princess,” he said with a flirtatious wink that you were not at all affected by, before turning to walk out the door. Jin gave a quick goodbye, reminding Jimin to behave before the following suit and getting into a familiar sleek black car parked illegally in front of the shop. 

“I guess we should get started then,” Jimin said with a smile, and suddenly you had a whole new set of nerves. 

Working the front of the store was a lot easier than the kitchen. You were already experienced with the cash register system they used, only needing to familiarize yourself with their menu and how to specialize orders. The pastries all had description cards in the display cabinet, so it was easy to know what is what as well as describe it to the customers. The only thing you had to learn really was how to make coffee. You weren't a stranger to fancy coffee shops, almost regularly indulging in an overpriced, over-sweetened cup yourself. But Navigating the equipment will take some time for you to get used to. And considering how grumpy customers got in the mornings Jimin took extra time to make sure you had the basics down to prepare you for the morning shift.

"And then you just pour the milk in like this," Jimin said with a smile as he made a flawless heart in the milk once again. It had been a slow afternoon at the shop, ideal for training you, and once he was sure you got the hang of things he decided he could give you a head start on mastering your barista skills, because you were not going near the frosting again if he could help it. 

The counter was lined with cups filled with various drinks and failed latte art attempts, and the few customers you have had this afternoon had been delighted with the free coffee that came with their purchase. You and Jimin were also buzzing after drinking one too many of the failed attempts. 

"If you ever have time and you want the drink to be really good, mix the syrup in with the milk when you steam it, it may take a little extra cleaning, but it helps the flavor stay consistent throughout the drink," he continues as he demonstrated again on a new cup of milk, you watched the milk slowly darken as the chocolate syrup blended in and became frothy. He poured the milk into a cup of espresso skipping the art in favor of adding whipped cream on top before drizzling it perfectly with chocolate syrup. You gasped as he added a marshmallow on top and lit it on fire with a small torch by the register.

"Ta-da!" he said with a grin, "It has toasted marshmallow syrup in it too. The Fireside it’s one of our more popular drinks. Tell me what you think." he said while offering you the beverage.

You blew out the marshmallow with a quick puff of air before tentatively taking a sip, your taste buds danced in delight, "Oh my gosh this is delicious!" you beamed as you looked at him in amazement. He giggled, ruffling his hair as he thanked you.

"Yeah, I get pretty bored here when it gets slow on nights like this, so I kinda let my creativity run wild. Jin lets me have a specialty menu," he said nodding towards the small chalkboard propped by the register, "and if something in particular becomes a hit then he'll add it to the official menu."

Sugar Daddy was basically an equal parts bakery and coffee shop. The business set itself apart by being specialized in having out of the ordinary pastries and drinks like the Fireside where they lit a marshmallow on fire. To be honest Jimin tried to incorporate fire into the menu as much as possible. He was a bit of a pyromaniac at times. 

The bakery had a modern feel despite being fit into an older building off the main street of the 7th ward. It wasn’t overly girlish in that sickening way most trendy bakeries are headed, where they are over saturated with pastel colors and curly font menus that were damn near impossible to read. No, Sugar Daddy had a relaxed and cozy vibe; the red brick walls and hardwood floors were complemented with more industrial decor, like the minimalist wire basket wall filled with bread and bagels to be sold,  and the Edison light bulbs that hung over the display cases. 

"That's so cool!" you said genuinely impressed by his creativity as you read through the flavors on the list. "Honestly Jimin, some of these pastries are so beautiful they're basically art," you continued as you peeked at the display case again admiring the lavender blossoms painted on the small lavender macaroons.

"You're too kind," he said bashfully and you shook your head as you stole another sip of your coffee, a dollop of whipped cream sticking to your nose in the process. Jimin stepped forward, whipping it with his finger with a swift but gentle flick, fighting the urge to lick his finger as he kept eye contact with you. You looked away shyly, a blush staining your cheek. Off limits. he reminded himself begrudgingly.

"Let's take another go at the register. We don't want you to slip up in the middle of rush hour," he said before turning away and breaking any tension that may have built between you two.

Jimin was a natural flirt, but you made it dangerously easy. He was going to have to keep himself in check as he gets to know you more. You were so enthusiastic about everything he's taught you so far and your personality was sweet enough to give him a cavity even in a bakery. But then you kept surprising him with a snide comment or joke that made him do a double-take, your seemingly innocent eyes suddenly appearing all too knowing. It was your first day and you were already driving him crazy.

For a while he was drilling you again, listing off random orders and making you ring them up on the register as you familiarized yourself with the menu. You were both starting to lose interest, as the streetlight outside came on indicating to Jimin you had a little over an hour until closing, and he was worried you may not see another customer for the evening when the bell chimed and a couple entered the store arm and arm.

 "You take this one," he encouraged taking a step back to clean up the coffee equipment. You greeted them cheerfully complimenting the woman on her blouse so effortlessly, Jimin wondered if it came naturally or if you were gunning for tips.

Jimin clicked with you well. There were no awkward pauses or hiccups that normally came with training days. You were confident and capable so much so he almost found it a little intimidating at first, found himself seeming like he was the shy one as he struggled to think about what to show you next. You were making small talk with the couple as you collected the pastry of choice for them out the cabinet, rushing it to a natural end as the bell chimed from another customer entering the store. He could tell you were practiced in customer service, your overall energy was both warm and efficient, and he could hear the slight tone in your adapt depending on who you were interacting with. 

“Good evening, what can I get for you, sir,” 

“I’ll have a cortado,” Jimin froze as he recognized the familiar voice, looking over his shoulder to see Kim Namjoon standing across from you at the counter.

“Late night?” you asked as you smiled at him sweetly and scrolled through the list of drinks to ring him up. 

“I find I’m more productive in the evenings,” Namjoon responded smoothly. 

“I say the same thing, but if we’re honest I think I’m just guilty of procrastination,” you joked as you wrote his order on a cup and handed it to Jimin, who tried his best to keep one eye on you and the espresso machine as he made the drink. 

“Thank you, Ella,” Namjoon said as he dropped his coins in the tip jar with a rattle, and took his drink from Jimin with a small smile. 

“You seem tense,” you said softly as you watch Namjoon take a seat at one of the tables scrolling through his phone. 

Jimin blinked quickly before turning to you with a smile, “Not at all princess, but it’s almost time for closing so let me show you how we pack and clean up everything,” he said with a smile. Before he could go further the bell chimed again and to his displeasure saw another one of his brothers enter the shop. Jungkook looked about as shocked to see you as you did, despite having the warning. Jimin forgot he and Namjoon were taking care of a deal tonight and using the storefront as a meeting place. 

Jimin watched Namjoon frown as Jungkook walked passed him. A dopey smile forming on the idiot’s face as he strolled up to the counter. You didn’t take your eyes off him as you brushed by Jimin to take his order. Saints, you were both pathetic.

“What can I get you?” you asked your voice shy and small as you reached to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Caramel macchiato,” his articulate brother responded softly. 

Jimin watched Jungkook shift he weight as you rang him up searching for something to say before blurting, “I saw you the other day, at the library”

Your smile faltered, “Yaeh, I know the elevator you-”

“Sorry I didn’t say hi, I guess that was pretty weird,” he laughed rubbing the back of his neck nervously

“It was,” you agreed, eyebrows furrowing, and Jimin had to hide his smile with his hand as he watched the younger deflate. You were brutal and Jimin adored it. 

“But you can say hi now?” you offered catching your mistake. 

Jungkook flushed as a smile broke across his cheeks and gave a soft, “Hey Ella,”

“Hey Jungkook,” you responded as you smiled back at him endearingly and he felt his stomach flutter at the fact that you remembered his name. Jimin wanted to bang his head into a wall at the sight of the middle school romance blooming in his shop. He looked around for inspiration desperate to spoil the moment before your eyes turned into actual hearts.  

“Kook,” Namjoons voice almost echoed in the quiet bakery and you both jumped as you handed Jungkook back his card, “Sorry coming,” he called walking over to the elder. 

They exchanged words softly, Jungkook plugging a jump drive into Namjoons laptop as Jimin talked you through preparing his drink. By time you were ready to bring the drink to him he was gone, “You can set it on the table.” Namjoon said with a sweet smile flashing two crater deep dimples at you. “Jungkookie is just running something over to a friend he’ll be back soon,” he assured. You flushed and realized you probably looked disappointed by his absence and set the steaming mug on the table, wishing to all gods that Namjoon wouldn't notice how you teasingly wrote ‘Hey :)’ in caramel sauce on top of his drink. Stupid, stupid you hissed to yourself as you returned to a smirking Jimin. What were you doing exactly? Flirting??

Jimin got you started with closing the kitchen, standing the doorway to keep one eye at the front of the shop while directing you on how to wipe down the ovens and prep some of the yeast for tomorrow morning. 

At one point Suga came into the shop and chatted with Namjoon, but he didn’t order anything so he kept you in the kitchen deciding you didn’t need to meet the entire household tonight. When you did all that you could while the shop was still open Jimin had you come back to the front to show you how to clean the coffee machines. Namjoon was still at the table in the corner, a small plate of lemon cake half-eaten in front of him as he worked on his computer and Jungkook’s cooling mug across from him untouched. 

“El your sleeves are soaked,” Jimin groaned, noticing the dingy white fabric, “here.” he sighed, reaching for your wrist and rolling your sleeve up your forearm. “You’re going to have to make a habit of rolling your sleeve now that you work in a kitchen,” he said as he reached for the other one. 

You nodded not really hearing him as your own eyes looked down at his arms. You realized while you established you were probably safe to work here, that you still haven’t gotten any answers about the guys. 

“I like your tattoo,” you said, your voice sounding more forced than casual, but Jimin stiffened in response before letting a small smirk crawl across his face, “Yea, you got any?” he asked as he finished and dropped your arm. You shook your head as you shifted uncomfortably, “No, not yet at least, I think they’re super cool though. What does yours mean?” you prompted trying to make yourself seem only slightly interested. 

Jimin glanced over his shoulder to Namjoon observing the two of you with a raised brow, and Jimin rolled his eyes. It’s not like BTS was his secret, it was Hoseok’s. “It’s a family crest,” Jimin replied dismissively, 

Your brows rose in disbelief, “Really it’s so modern looking, I didn’t realize you and Jin were kin.” you prodded as you returned to wiping down the counter. 

Annoyance flashed across his face before he huffed, “We’re very distant cousins, but he’s like a brother to me.”

“Wow you must have a massive family,” you prompted with a smile. And Jimin’s eyes glinted as he saw a way out of your little interrogation. “Very,” he said as he leaned in to whisper, “that's not the only massive thing I have though,”

You immediately turned scarlet stepping away from him, “Jimin,” you hissed scandalized. He smiled cheekily before turning back to the floor, “C’mon nosey let's get back to work.” he prompted. You and Jimin continued cleaning and whipping down the counters before the shop finally closed. Jungkook never came back, and you tried not to look disappointed as you took the cold coffee cup, off the table along with Namjoon’s cake plate. Most of your message sunk to the bottom of the cup in a large sugar lump. You noticed Namjoon still sat at his table working after Jimin flipped the sign, and Jimin saw the curiosity in your eyes as you placed the dishes in the sink. 

“He’s the owner,” Jimin offered as explanation. 

Confusion wrinkled your brow “I thought Jin was the owner?”

At this Jimin’s eyes turned to crescents as he smiled “He owns Jin.” he said simply before returning to the dishes. Once the dishes were dried and put away Jimin took you to the back to finish cleaning the kitchen and preparing the dough to rise for the morning’s bread. 

“It’s getting late, why don’t you head home early,” Jimin offered as you placed reusable cling wrap over another bowl.

“Are you sure, we’re not done?” you asked confused, he nodded with a smile. Feeling tired from the long day you decided to take him up on the offer. You quickly slipped off your apron and gathered your things before leaving the store Jimin locking the door behind you. 

You shuffled down the street as you dug in your bag to grab your pepper spray, while this area was lit much better than your old job, you still were taking a maximum precaution on your walk home. 

“Y/n?” 

You squealed in shock as you whirled swinging your purse at your attacker. Jungkook didn’t seem affected at the bag met his arm with a loud smack, but he looked at you sheepishly as he apologized. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just going to offer to walk you home”

“Gosh, Jungkook I could have hurt you what were you thinking sneaking up on me like that,” Jungkook laughed as he started walking with you, “No you couldn’t have, I barely felt that,” he teased bumping you slightly with a solid shoulder. 

“Don’t tempt me to try again, I’ll make sure you feel it next time,” you threatened lightly. He grinned cheekily at you 

“I could teach you, ya know?” he offered and you raised a brow for him to elaborate, “How to fight- defend yourself I mean, you held your own the other night, but it’s important that people like you know how to defend themselves properly in a city like this,” 

You scoffed, “First things first, I believe it was you who got jumped the other night, and I saved your ass” you reminded

“You did a great job of distracting them, so I could take control of the situation,” he corrected. You ignored him. 

“Secondly, what do you mean people like me?” you asked a flush already creeping up your cheeks. Is it a compliment to be told that your pretty enough to be kidnapped? You made a mental note to reevaluate you standards of what is and isn’t a compliment in the shower later. 

“People who walk home from work at night,” Jungkook clarified and your face fell as you realized he wasn’t flirting with you. He was being a sensible and nice guy. 

“Thanks, but I think I can handle my own,” you said your voice flat, and Jungkook wondered what he said wrong this time. 

“Oh, c’mon I can teach you the good ole’ one, two,” he insisted punching his fist through the air for emphasis.

It was at that moment you caught sight of the trapezoid design on his forearm two. You don't know why you were surprised, You reached grabbed his arm gently pulling it to get a better look, the inner doctor in you trying not to lust after the thick veins protruding from his arm. You should ask him if he donates blood often. “What does it mean exactly,” you asked catching him off guard. 

“The family symbol” you elaborated as you traced the pad of your finger softly around each side. Jungkook tried to contain the shiver that ran through him but had no way of stopping the way he felt his heart swell at your question. You knew. Hoseok or Jimin must have told you. But you knew he was in a gang and you weren’t repulsed by it, you saw it for what it was, a family. You were even willing to let him walk you home. He smiled brightly as he responded,

“They’re doors,” he said simply, “One open inwards one open outwards, it’s supposed to mean you’re never alone, there’s always somewhere for you to go when you're part of the family, The symbol is a promise that you’ll take care of each other.”  

You angled your head as you saw the doors and smiled softly, “So what’s the family name,” you asked still trying to wrap your head around how a Park, Kim, and Jung could all be kin. Their grandparent must have been busy, 

“BTS?” Jungkook asked confused “Oh it stands for-” Jungkook stopped as he saw the way your face fell. 

“BTS as in the gang?” you asked and he tried to not dwell on the waiver in your voice.

 “So you didn’t know,” Jungkook said realizing his mistake. 

“Well I figured, I mean I always assumed Hoseok was apart of something, but when I asked Jimin he said it was a family crest and then you had that beautiful explanation and I thought. I thought for a second that maybe,” your face turned red as you got flustered, “Maybe someone would be honest with me for once, but no I work at a gangster bakery.” You huffed your mouth set into a firm pout as you continue your rant, “ Which is the most absurd thing, by the way, you guys should really re-evaluate your business tactics. Open a dive bar or something cool” you said starting to pick up your pace as you grew frantic or furious. Jungkook couldn’t really tell. 

“Y/n, please I’m sorry I thought you knew,” Jungkook  pleased

And you laughed humorously, “I should have I’m so stupid I really thought-”  Jungkook struggled to understand you as you continued to mumble to yourself angrily your mouth in a firm pout as you turned around to head in the opposite direction. 

“Where are you going?” Jungkook was jogging to keep up with you as you were on the border of full-on sprinting. 

“To talk to my best friend, I wanna know if he’s capable of telling the truth” you hissed and Jungkook slowed as you turned on the road of Hoseok’s apartment complex. 

“Oh man, oh man, oh man” he huffed, pressing his hands to his ears in despair. He tailed you slightly just to make sure you got there safe before quickly sending a warning text to Hobi. Though he wasn’t sure anything could properly prepare the man for you.

You stomped of the flight of stairs in Hoseok’s building, banging on the door to warn him before you dug through your purse for your keys. 

“Y/n?” Hoseok asked confused as he opened the door, you shoved right past him near hysteric with anger, “Let’s talk,” you snapped as you made your way into the living room.

“Y/n, what the hell is going on?” he demanded taking in your disheveled state. 

“I was just wondering now that I got fired from my job and work at your gangster bakery how long until I get my own cute little tattoo,” you said with a saccharine smile. Hoseok’s stomach dropped, “I can explain.” he started.

“I bet you can,” you snapped before your eyes watered your emotions quickly getting the best of you, “Hobi, I don’t wanna be mad I just wanna know the truth.” you pleaded voice wavering. And that was the truth, you felt like you could care less if he was in a gang. It was Alcorn, you had to be in a gang to survive if you weren’t rich. The only reason you hadn’t joined one yourself was because you were an international student and no one cared about you, but even that hadn’t kept you out of it. You and Daewon almost joined Black Pink, a notorious girl gang at your university during a drunken mishap your freshman year.   

Upon seeing your eyes water and your lip tremble Hoseok instantly wished you would scream at him. He didn’t want to hurt you. He didn’t mean for it to go this far. For you two to get so close after his sister's death, or for him to lie to you for so long. He told himself he kept you out of it for your safety, but really it was just too easy for him to live two lives, for you to look at him like he wasn’t a murderer and for him to pretend for a few hours that he wasn’t. He sighed sitting on the couch and you plopped down next to him and waited patiently for him to gather his thoughts. 

“I guess it’s best to start at the very beginning which was when I was around 16,” he started.

A/N: Whew this is the longest thing I’ve written (so far). And I’m super stoked to see what everyone thinks! I had a personal deadline to post before the end of the month bc I’m working 40 hours a week and taking online classes, but I got hit by a truckload of insperation and have felt so beyond flattered by the comments that I started writing during my lunch break and shot this bad booy out and plotted out possibly nine chapters?? So stay tuned y’all we’re in for a long ride. As always thank you for reading! Please comment if you feel led they really help me out!!! <3

pt.4 

[meabd]

Tricks of the Trade

Chapter 2: A Complicated Dance

It was nearly five o’clock when you approached the Heyu Teahouse. As you neared the entrance you caught sight of the slender form of the Eleventh Harbinger as he leaned against the side of the building, arms crossed, a look of concentration on his face. He startled as you stepped into view, his expression morphing into one of surprised pleasure.

“[Y/n], you look ravishing ,” he winked, offering you his elbow. You bowed instead, ignoring the gesture.

“Thank you, Tartaglia ,” he rolled his eyes at the use of his code name.

“None of that now. Call me Childe,” it was your turn to roll your eyes as he ushered you through the front door, one hand at the small of your back to direct you. The hostess was deferential to the young man, guiding you quickly to a private chamber on the second floor. The view over the harbor was breathtaking, and you found yourself distracted by it as Childe ordered for you both.

“You know, if we’re being honest I didn’t think you’d actually show up,” his comment broke you away from your thoughts, though you did not turn to acknowledge it.

“It’s funny,” you mused, eyes trained on the setting sun, “for as long as I have lived here I still haven’t gotten used to the beauty of it all,” he hummed in reply. Finally you turn to look at him, your gaze flickering over his formal Snezhnyan suit. He had no business looking as good as he did. “Why did you really ask me out this evening?” He cocked his head, his lips quirking into a bemused grin.

“Because you’re a beautiful woman with impressive connections with the highest powers operating out of Liyue Harbor,” his voice was matter of fact. The waitress returned with the bottle of wine he’d requested, pouring two glasses and bustling away.

“I’m not an idiot, you know,” you murmured, swirling the wine in your glass as you waited for him to taste it first.

“And I never said you were,” he countered, taking a healthy gulp of his own wine. “So who do you work for?” You took a small sip from your glass before answering.

“Lady Keqing oversees my work for—”

“I would appreciate it if you did not insult my intelligence,” he cut you off.

“I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you sniffed primly. The charming smile had not slipped from his face, but there was a newfound tension around his eyes.

“Come on Miss [y/n], whatever it is you’ve gotten yourself mixed up in it’s nothing the Fatui can’t handle. I’m sure we can, what is it you said? ‘Come to an equitable agreement’?” His smile was soft and comforting—and entirely false.

“Just what is it you’re implying, Master Childe?” You weren’t sure exactly what it was he thought you were, but you were glad to hear he wasn’t either.

“[Y/n], hails from Wuwang Hill, father deceased, mother deceased, brother jailed for petty crimes in Fontaine—is that who it is? Your brother is being held hostage and Fontaine's struck a deal with you?” Your mouth hung open, an expression of sincere shock. Childe leaned back, hands behind his head to enjoy the fruits of his detective work.

Little did he know, your shock was not because he was right, but rather that he actually bought your Cover. Sure, [y/n] was your real name, but it was also the name of a little girl who’d gone missing during the Wuwang Hill landslide. A little bureaucratic magic was all it took to assume her identity.

“It’s okay,” his expression softened as he leaned forward again, laying one hand atop your own, “I know what it is to care for family. You would do terrible things to keep them safe…” his voice trailed off as if he were remembering his own misdeeds. “I want to help you,” his voice was earnest. He was a damn good actor.

“I… appreciate the offer,” you gulped, attempting to tug your hand away to no avail.

“...But?” he pressed you.

“But they’d kill me,” and that part wasn’t a lie.

“Snezhnya is a formidable country. We have ways of helping… people like you,” he squeezed your hand in what you assumed was supposed to be a comforting gesture. It felt claustrophobic.  

“I don’t know,” you bit your lip, dropping your chin a scant inch so you could look up at him through your mascara thickened lashes. “I couldn’t possibly give you an answer right now,” he nodded, withdrawing his hand.

“I understand, of course. Take some time to think about it. The Tsaritsa is a strong Archon, you would be safe within our ranks,” you pursed your lips, hoping the tension in your face read as nervousness and not amusement. A silence fell between the two of you, though not one as uncomfortable as before. When the server arrived with your food, all seriousness bled away from Childe’s face as he thanked the young woman before refilled your wine glass.

The conversation shifted as the two enjoyed your meal. You weren’t completely at ease, but that was nothing special; you never were. Childe, having gotten his ‘proposal’ out of the way was a regular chatterbox. It was really quite impressive how much he said without revealing anything of substance.

He was a charming man, that was doubtless; his conversation skills were remarkable, he was an active listener, and his flirtations (though inappropriate, in your opinion) managed to steer clear of any touchy territory. He was beautiful, to say the least, with striking eyes and a well formed figure that would send any woman’s heart aflutter. He was the perfect Honey Trap.

But then again… so were you.

“This has been lovely, thank you,” you smiled at him with a bit more honesty than was advisable.

“Why does that sound like a goodbye?” He stepped closer into your space, his fingers grazing the delicate bone of your wrist.

“Because it is? I have to go to Master Shizhuong’s,” you backed away from him.

“We’ve got plenty of time,” he cajoled, “come take a walk with me, we could revisit that tree,” his eyebrows twitched up at the suggestive remark.

“No, thank you. Perhaps next time. I’m going to be late as it is,” you turned to leave but were halted by a hand on your elbow.

“When I asked you out tonight I didn’t just mean to dinner, [y/n].”

“That’s all well and good Master Childe, but I do have work to do. Now if you’ll excuse me—” he yanked you forward, pressing his body against yours. His lips brushed the shell of your ear and you shuddered to feel his warm breath against it.

“You don’t honestly think I’d let you out of my sight now , do you? That banquet doesn’t start for another hour at least,” there was a threat in those words, no matter how soft the tone was. You pulled back from him, shifting your features into what you hoped was a neutral expression.

“...I’m the dance coordinator. There’s a Yayue performance before the feast, I have to be there for the arrangement.” Childe’s smile was contrite and his grip on you loosened.

“Sorry, sorry, just being cautious you know,” he laughed. You huffed an incredulous sigh.

“Come on, ‘you don’t honestly think’ I’d run off to wreak havoc at a banquet immediately after your oh so considerate offer,” you tossed his turn of phrase back at him and he frowned.

“I would certainly hope not,” he brushed a stray curl out of your eyes. “See you there, then? That is if you have time for me,” he winked. Despite your better judgement you nodded your assent before making your way to the estate.

As you approached the back entrance to the mansion you let your fingers trace over the wood of the exterior until you found the right panel. As quickly and discreetly as you could manage you lifted it off its hinges and swapped the bottle that was inside with the note you’d had strapped to your upper thigh. You took a moment to lean against the building, one hand pressed against your chest. You took several deep breaths before straightening your qipao and heading inside. To any wayward onlooker it would seem as if you were merely collecting yourself. If who you thought was tailing you actually was, then you’d just solidified your cover as an indecisive and reluctant operative.

Inside the mansion you passed the dancer’s dressing room to enter Master Shizhuong’s private chambers. You removed the bottle from your bodice, dripping its contents onto the bottom edge of an ornately framed painting. Behind it lay the Master’s safe, containing valuable and important documents. Documents that you had on good authority were to be stolen by a Fontainèse spy that very evening.

You re-corked the bottle and returned to the dressing area, satisfied with your work. Launching into your Cover role you helped apply traditional makeup, tied ribbons, tightened bodices and arranged hair as the dancers gossiped amongst themselves. Ming, one of the youngest dancers of your ranks, sat quietly in the corner. You approached her, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Are you alright there?” You inquired. Her large doe eyes met yours and you could see the fear in them. She nodded.

“Are you… will you still help me tonight?”

Ming had come to you the week before with a sob story about needing money to help her sick mother. She shared with you her (rather convoluted) plan to bed Master Shizhuong, then blackmail him into providing her with the necessary funds. She’d asked for your help, imploring you to distract the middle-aged politician long enough for her to ‘prepare herself’ in his chambers.

You had, of course, readily agreed. You would never turn down a chance to take out an enemy operative. You almost felt bad—almost because, frankly she just wasn’t very good at her job. Her Cover was flimsy at best and her true intention—stealing classified documents from your host—was laughably easy to suss out. You smiled gently at the girl, a warm and comforting expression.

“Of course Ming. Anything for you. Please be safe,” you hugged the younger woman and felt her tears on your neck.

“No crying now,” you murmured, wiping a tear off of her cheek. “You’ll smear your makeup. Be strong; think of your mother and be strong ,” Ming’s smile was watery, but she nodded.

This is entirely too easy .

The entertainment had gone off without a hitch (because of course it had, you were damned good at your job) and you were engaging the Master of the house in a spirited discussion on the merits of the use of Cor Lapis in the production of chopsticks. You noticed your host’s eyes drifting over to the clock and you ran your finger down the seam of his sleeve, a coy gesture. Just as you were about to switch topics you felt a hand on your back.

“If I may be so bold, I believe Noctilucous Jade to be the superior material,” Zhongli’s smooth voice cut in and you inwardly groaned.

“Yes, yes, right as always Master Zhongli,” Shizhuong nodded with enthusiasm. “But—ah, excuse me please, I’m afraid I have an urgent matter to attend to,” he bowed before beating a hasty retreat. You hoped you stalled him for long enough for the poison to take effect. You’d be very disappointed if Ming lived long enough to get any of it on your host. You actually quite liked him.

“Hello Uncle,” you smiled pleasantly, using the honorific you reserved for when he was getting on your nerves. Zhongli’s head cocked to the side.

“My my, you’re in a mood, aren’t you? I take it your sortie with our resident Harbinger was not to your liking?” You blanched.

“I—you—he told you?” Zhongli chuckled.

“Bragged about it is more like it,” Childe’s voice came from behind you as an arm snaked its way around your waist. You fought hard against your instinct to flinch away. Zhongli inclined his head in greeting and Childe returned the gesture. “And I thought we had a lot of fun, didn’t we [y/n]?” You knew you were blushing but didn’t bother to fight it.

“Yes, ah, it was quite enjoyable,” your voice wavered just the slightest. Enough so that Childe’s grip on your waist tightened a bit.

“I must admit, I did not see this particular turn of events,” Zhongli remarked, his golden eyes lingering on the fingers tapping against your hip bone. “[Y/n] has never been out with a man, not once in the five years I’ve known her.”

“Maybe I was waiting for the right one,” you grit out from your teeth clenching smile.

“ Ming !” Master Shizhuong’s startled cry was muffled, but audible. The three of you turned in unison to stare at the hallway leading to the dressing rooms.

“Ming… no ,” you gasped, attempting to break away from Childe.

“Hold on—” he started but you pushed him away.

“Ming is one of my girls, I have to— I—” you shook your head before running towards the sound of the shout. You flung open the dressing room door, stopping only for a moment. You knew Zhongli and Childe were following you and you had to make a show of searching.

“Ming!” You screamed, continuing down the hall, throwing doors open as you went. Finally you made it to the master bedroom, your hands flying up to cover your mouth as a strangled sob escaped. You sagged against the door frame, making sure to hold your position until your companions had caught up. In the bedroom Ming laid slumped against the wall, dressed in nothing but her undergarments. The picture frame had been moved and the wall safe was clearly visible. Master Shizhuong sat on the bed, head in his hands.

“Oh no, no what did they do to you?” You stumbled into the room, dropping to your knees in front of her body. You reached out, hands shaking, as if to touch her, but felt yourself being yanked away.

“Don’t,” Childe’s voice was tight. “She may have been poisoned. Don’t touch anything ,” he barked. You felt your breath hitch as tears came to your eyes. These, at least, were more genuine than the one’s Childe had previously called you on. You liked Ming, you really did—she reminded you of yourself when you first started out.

You let that kernel of truth slip through your mask as you sobbed in Childe’s arms. He ran a soothing hand through your hair, pressing your face into the crook of his neck so you couldn’t look at her corpse.

“Shh. It’s okay,” he whispered. “Zhongli, can you handle this?” He must have nodded since you found yourself being tugged to your feet.

“No. I have to—I have to help her,” you protested softly. Childe shushed you again and led you from the room. “That could have been me,” you whispered, your voice hollow.

“It could have,” your companion agreed, though not unkindly. You allowed yourself to be dragged into the adjoining study. Gentle hands prodded you into an overstuffed chair and Childe knelt on the ground in front of you.

“I’m sorry [y/n], but I have to ask—did you have anything to do with this?” You tried to breathe in but the air stuck in your throat. Wordlessly you shook your head, tears still streaming down your face. You were certain your makeup was a disaster and you regretted your choice in mascara.

“Alright. Okay. Stay here. Zhongli and I will handle the rest,” he soothed, moving to stand.

“No,” you choked out, standing as well. “No, I have twenty nine other girls out there that need me,” you sniffled, wiping away the moisture on your cheeks. Childe stared at you, his face unreadable.

“Fine. But wait for me. You’ll need an escort home tonight,” you didn‘t argue. He turned to leave and you reached out without thinking. He stilled, looking down at your joined hands.

“I’m sorry. I… thank you,” you startled at the soft brush of lips against your forehead. He said nothing in reply, sweeping out of the room in a hurry.

Report;

Things have progressed well with Agent Pisces. Target believes me to be operating under duress and has made overtures to turn me. Agent Swan has been eliminated, Millelith on high alert. Will proceed with caution.

Dead Drop at Blue House compromised, Sanitized documents have been left there, please convey a new rendez-vous point ASAP.

Operation Blowback Intercept on hold until further notice.

I await further instructions.

Swallow

[theseaeaglelives]

Round 11

THE SEA EAGLE

MAKING RUGBY LEAGUE TRULY GREAT AGAIN!!!

Round 11

Manly Sea Eagles      28

Defeated 

Parramatta Eels        6

This was a display of muscle, power and solid defence tinged also with sadness following news of the unfortunate passing of immortal and Manly legend Bob Fulton who for obvious reasons will be the focus of this week’s report (see below). Bozo’s passing no doubt cast a shroud of sadness over the Manly camp, but not surprisingly showing due respect to the great man, Manly smashed the hapless Eels into submission in this away fixture at Bankwest.

Manly now have staked their claim as a genuine top eight side and possible top four contender (as long as Tommy Turbo plays).

Manly were up for a big game and they delivered. Manly have now gone from wooden spoon contenders to top 8 contenders in the space of 6 weeks. In fact as it stands today, only the high rolling Panthers and to a lesser extent, the Filthy Wrestlers are playing in better form.

The impact of the Manly forwards in taking the game to their allegedly more fancied Eels rivals cannot be underestimated in this one. Manly gave it to the Eels forward pack and came up convincing winners. When the Manly forwards dominate in a side that contains the likes of Tommy Turbo (and also the second Turbo known simply as Saab Turbo - ie Jason Saab), backed up with the skill and class of Cherry Baby and Turbo's brother Jake, rising star Josh Schuster and quality goal kicking from Ruben Garrick, it will take a very good side to defeat Manly.  

In this fixture that side was certainly not Parramatta.

Special mention must also go to young Reuben Garrick who is sharp shooter with the kicking boot , and is now showing a lot of class on the wing. Young Garrick, a Gerringong junior formerly mentored by Eel legend Mick Cronin, could well have drifted away this season, but he has held strong, no doubt under the coaching of master coach Des Hasler. Manly are the better for it.

The Sea Eagle would also like to take this opportunity to acknowledge the performance of ever improving centre Brad Parker. The Sea Eagle now officially retracts all prior criticism of the attributes of Brad Parker in questioning his ability as a genuine first grader. The time has come to announce that Brad Parker certainly is now of first grade quality and the Sea Eagle publicly apologises for all prior criticism in not recognising what obviously the Manly football management and coaching staff clearly did, and that was to persevere with young Parker.

Wallabies now sponsored by Cadbury

Cadbury now sponsor the Wannabees.

How did Darrel Lea let this one slip by, who wouldn’t want to see the brand “Soft Centres” on the back of each Wallaby player???

Still, we still have the prospect of a Wallaby renaming to the Caramello Bears to look forward to.

 Or perhaps:

   And, as a sponsor incentive, if they start winning some big games (to wit a Bledisloe Cup or a World Cup):

  At least we won’t have to put up with QANTAS as a Wannabee sponsor and their Woke view on the world. The handling of the Israel Folau debacle surely must be placed at the feet of this shameful airline (personal opinion).

Woke Soft Co8!ck Award of the Week

Absolute stand out this week. The organisation known as PETA. These clowns go by the name People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals. Their motto “ANIMALS ARE NOT OURS TO EXPERIMENT ON, EAT, WEAR, USE FOR ENTERTAINMENT, OR ABUSE IN ANY OTHER WAY”

This week these geniuses disputed the traditional methods used  to eradicate the potential life threatening consequences of the western NSW mouse plague (life threatening terms of destruction of food for livestock and for humans to eat). Those methods being poison and associated other nasties to send said rodents to Manyana for ever.

As per the 3AW website on 19 May 2021

Animal rights organisation PETA is advocating for mice, as a mouse plague wreaks havoc in NSW, Queensland and some parts of regional Victoria.

Crops are being destroyed, farmhouses are being invaded, and there are reports some farmers are being forced to spend up to six hours cleaning up mouse droppings.

….

In a radio interview ****, PETA spokesperson XXXX , …

“Our common advice to rodent overpopulation is, of course, to avoid poison which subjects these animals to unbearably painful deaths but also pose the risk of spreading bacteria, and there are alternatives which exist,” she said.

XXXXX blamed governments for the mouse plague.

“It is so unfair that these mice are going to suffer these horrible deaths,” she said.

“It’s the fault of the government because they really should have taken control of this situation earlier .. through humane methods like humane trapping, birth control.

“Their inaction months ago has led to this situation.

“The situation has gotten so bad that not only farmers are suffering, but mice are suffering.””

Sea Eagle Comment:

Whilst cruelty to animals can never be condoned, and live exports fits nicely into that basket, the simple fact remains that humans like beef, chicken, pork, fish, kangaroo, veal and a range of other animals to eat. As well, there is no doubt a wild fish (eg Shark) or mammal (eg bear, dog, lion, tiger etc etc) will not hesitate to take out a human or anything else within its range, in order to eat, or defend themselves, at will, and with impunity. So too will a plague of mice if given half a chance.

Have these clowns never heard of the famous fairy tale the Pied Piper of Hamelin. Perhaps one of them could go through their school things, pull out the old recorder, and take a trip to the Western NSW and see if they can play a nice little ditty to persuade these rodents to follow them into to the Murray Darling basin (PETA members going in first), in order to avoid mice extermination by poison (or attempted extermination by poison by humans). Death under this scenario of course, still being inevitable to said mouse.

The Sea Eagle recognises here that the mice have the upper hand. Firstly though they be small, they be many, and they reproduce at exponential rates. It is probably already too late to stop them.

The Sea Eagle would personally like to see a few card carrying members of PETA, as part of the 2021 Origin series pre game entertainment, to be forced to run successive sets of six against the respective NSW Under 18’s and Queensland Under 18’s forward packs, the task being to see if PETA can break the defensive line. Who wouldn’t want to see that.

And, in the interest of gender equality, perhaps a pre match parade around the ground (if for no other reason than to see how a rugby league crowd might react to a bit of gender equality morphed into animal rights activism) – ie. something along these lines:

  VALE BOB FULTON

Manly Sea Eagles legend and rugby league Immortal Bob Fulton has died at age 74 after a long battle with cancer. The news was announced on 2GB by one of Bob Fulton’s closest friends, Ray Hadley.

The legendary Manly, NSW and Australian representative is survived by his wife Anne, sons Scott, and Brett, and daughter Kristie.

Bob Fulton joined Manly in 1966 aged 18. He never played reserve grade. He  won premierships with the club in 1972 and 1973 before captaining the Sea Eagles to a third title in 1976, in his last game for the club. He also played in two other grand finals for Manly in 1968 and 1970 where Mainly were unsuccessful against the then mighty South Sydney Rabbitohs.

He joined Easts in 1977. He took over as captain-coach of Easts in 1979 but his playing career came to an end midway through the season after succumbing to a knee injury. With Bob Fulton as full time coach, Easts qualified for the 1980 grand final and were minor premiers that season. Unfortunately, Easts lost the 1980 grand final losing to the then very strong Canterbury Bankstown Bulldogs (the Entertainers).

At this point, mention needs to be made of the well known phenomenon known simply as “they never go better when they leave the Nest”.

In the case of Bob Fulton, he is an obvious exception to the rule. Whilst it's true he did not win a Premiership for Easts after having left Manly in the late 70’s, it could hardly be said that he went worse, particularly when he was coming off an exceptionally high benchmark. He still played for Australia and captained Australia through to the end of his career. That he  made a GF in his first full year of first grade coaching, proves that he certainly did not go too much worse, in fact he was only just beginning his meteoric rise as a coach.

Bob Fulton of course returned to Manly in 1983, where he stayed for the rest of his rugby league career. After losing the 1983 grand final to the then mighty Parramatta Eels, he steered  Manly to premierships in 1987 and 1996, and coached Australia from 1989 to 1998. During this period he coached Manly to 5 grand finals for two Premiership wins.

This coaching record alone proves that it is well and truly possible for a former Manly player to maintain the same high standards when they return to the Nest, and there's no doubt that Bob Fulton maintained the same high levels of winning success upon his return to Manly as coach and the absolute head of football during that time.

As an Australian Test coach he led the Kangaroos to two World Cup victories and numerous test successes.

Bob Fulton was part of the first four players to be granted status as ‘Immortal’ in 1981, alongside Clive Churchill, Reg Gasnier, and Johnny Raper. To be named in the Immortals is the highest honour in Australian rugby league and there can be no doubt that Bob Fulton deserved that accolade.

 Manly have had some very good players over the history. Players like Roy Bull, Rex Mossop, John O'Neill, Malcolm Reilly, Fred Jones, Max Krillich, Graham Eadie, Terry Randall, Paul Vautin, Des Hasler, Cliff Lyons, Michael O'Connor, Geoff Toovey, Steve Menzies, Glenn and Brett Stewart, to name a few. No doubt there are plenty more, who cannot be named in the interests of brevity. And then there is the current crop of Cherry Baby, Jake Trbojevic and of course his brother Tommy Turbo.

With that said, and in such illustrious company, there is still no doubt that the best Manly player ever was Bob Fulton.

As a Coach, whilst it might be considered a close thing when one considers the top line coaching abilities of the likes of Ron Willey, Frank Stanton and current coach Des Hasler, in the Sea Eagle’s opinion, Bob Fulton was the best Manly coach of all time.

The Sea Eagle had the privilege of watching Bob Fulton play live on many occasions as a young lad growing up. Simply put there was nothing quite like him. He was remarkably strong defensively, had blinding acceleration, he could draw and pass, he could offload, he could chip over the top regather and score, and he was not injury prone. Above all else, he was always the difference between Manly winning and not losing, when it really mattered.

The Sea Eagle recalls seeing on one occasion in the 70’s, at a church at Manly, a sign displayed that asked the simple question “What would you do if Jesus returned tomorrow?”. In a time when Graffiti was unheard of, someone had written their well-researched answer underneath said sign, which was “put him at 5/8 and move Bobby Fulton to centre”.

There is not much more that needs or can be said.

May he rest in peace.

 THE SEA EAGLE

[harold2sco]

Pre-Birth Wounds

Let’s discuss the concept of “Pre-Birth Wounds.” This is a subject that many people never take into account, yet it greatly affects the quality of your existence on Earth.

Most people have been taught to believe that the path of an individual’s life unfolds after birth. Yet, I'm going to assert that this is not the case; that the factors shaping and molding you appear much earlier.

One thing that we've failed to do in many societies is care for mothers during their time of pregnancy. And, by caring, I mean nurturing them, empowering them physically, emotionally, mentally and spiritually.

See, the females of our species literally take it upon themselves to onboard new Souls into the planet. They become vessels of pure cosmic energy and divine creation.

Women essentially bring forth and perpetuate humanity. Therefore, it's important that each mother is surrounded by energies that fulfill her, that remind her of this divine essence.

Because everything that goes into her goes into the baby and, consequently, goes into our human species. So we are creating the template for who and what we are through her.

This is the time period for a woman, during her pregnancy, when we need to fill her with Love, good energy, everything we want to reproduce and experience more of in our world.

But that doesn't happen very often. In fact, many women during this time period are treated harshly. An expecting mother may be pushed by the social system to work non stop like a machine; to surround herself with harmful chemicals in the environment.

Many of our money-driven societies are set up to be this kind of dog eat dog world. Everyone is scratching and clawing to get “Theirs,” and a pregnant woman must often do the same.

Therefore, subconsciously, she will be worried about survival and safety. This woman may also be related to toxic people or have a partner who hasn't done his own self healing.

Both people in that relationship then, who are psychologically battered, will push each other's buttons nonstop. They may have arguments, experience ongoing feelings of despair and disappointment. In extreme cases, physical violence might become a factor.

Just imagine what all this could be doing to an unborn child. In the womb, we are vessels of pure potential that are being impressed upon constantly by what the mother is experiencing.

And, at the core level, we're all energetic beings surrounded by others who carry their own electromagnetic and etheric fields. We constantly mix and commingle with people and are exposed to their emotional baggage.

Through that process, our own energetic sovereignty is often breached. These disruptive frequencies can then throw our lives completely out of balance. And a baby, being exposed to this, may begin to feel unsafe, under attack, unwelcomed in this world.

Studies have been done to follow the children of parents who, early in life, went through a prolonged period of starvation, torment, terror, or suffering. The children of these people often grow up, well into adulthood, feeling that they are never safe, or will somehow be attacked.

They may even develop to be much smaller and less physically capable than the offspring of people who didn't go through such an enormous hardship. Some of these adult children will hoard things. They may feel inappropriately attached to physical objects.

Others will eat to the point of becoming obese. Because, buried inside of their neural circuitry, is a fear that there will never be enough; that what they have will run out, or that they are in danger of losing bare essentials.

The people themselves are usually not able to identify these underlying fears without help or long periods of introspection. That’s because, in the womb, we don't have language yet.

We don't understand words, reason, or verbal cues. But we do have an emotional, energetic experience which, in itself, speaks volumes. The nervous system memory morphs into a belief structure that makes sense out of fears implanted before birth.

You see, thoughts, experiences, life events, emotions, are not words. Words are simply tools we use to transmit our own internal experience into the minds and bodies of other people.

They are secondary symbols, not the experience itself, which is fundamental. In fact, think of it this way. Every emotion is simply a sensory-based representation of some “Thought or information level Frequency.”

The emotion is, therefore, a thought, in the body. The mother will have certain thoughts in response to her environment. These ideas will be translated into a language that the very cells of her unborn child can understand.

Many of these destructive ideas are not hers. Because thoughts aren’t only generated inside of our heads. We transmit them out into the surrounding world.

Therefore, people around the pregnant mother will give their energy to her. If they are petty, “Small-Minded,” or suffer from self-hate, she gets that as well.

This becomes a dangerous cocktail that is mixed together and absorbed by the baby, a being that is pure potential, at its most vulnerable and impressionable state in life.

I’ll give you another example of how this plays out. Studies have also been done to follow the lives of children who were adopted through foster care. Many have gone into the system because their parents were drug addicts or lived a very destructive lifestyle.

Regardless, during those first few weeks of life, there is an incredible bonding process taking place between child and mother. Musch of our development is reliant upon going through this connective process.

Any newborn who is torn away from his or her mother during that time, endures a tremendously traumatic experience. The mother is probably in extreme distress, which her child can feel.

The baby also experiences a sensation of being “Torn Away” from its safety net. Emotionally, that bond is being ripped apart. This leaves an enormous wound and void within the child.

The infant may be placed in a foster home within weeks. Sometimes he or she will be passed right into the arms of a waiting family.

The new “mother” and “father” will very often go on to adopt the baby as their own. Therefore, the child would only really know and remember his or her adopted family.

Yet, following the same children throughout life, it is very very common for them to have attachment issues, fears of abandonment, oppositional and defiant behavior.

Young boys and girls like this may constantly feel the need to make others react, just to prove that they exist. These children will create, through their behavior, situations that cause peers, classmates, and even other adults to push them away.

All of this, and more, can be caused by an emotional/psychological/ Spiritual injury inflicted on the child either before birth or shortly after. The baby, teenager, adult, will go through life wanting to connect; wanting to feel complete and to bond with other people.

The problem is that he or she simply won't know how to accomplish this. Because the traumatic event wouldn’t be stored in regular memory. It would not exist in words or rational thought, but in the energy system of that being.

Even those of us who were raised by “birth parents” may pick up similar wounds in the womb, shortly after birth, and all throughout life. Just imagine what you might be carrying around, stuck in your system, right now.

It could show up as pain, injury, body dysfunction, weight gain, destroyed or abusive relationships, an inability to succeed and thrive, perpetual poverty, you name it.

There are nearly infinite manifestations that can come from experiences and harmful energies trapped in the human system.

You may be able to talk these things through with a traditional therapist and, over time, work them out. However, there is another way to do the same thing that most people never consider.

That is to cancel out the frequency of abandonment, fear, or whatever else is stuck inside of the body. Once that’s removed, the human being is designed to operate perfectly.

You can accomplish this by applying, to the “wound,” a higher, cleaner, restorative vibration.

Here’s a metaphor to help explain how it would work. Imagine that there is a clog in the drain of your bathroom sink. It has built up over a long period of time. The blockage may contain hair, grime, sludge, hard mineral deposits, all backed up in your piping.

You could go underneath the sink and disassemble everything. You can pull it apart, pipe by pipe, to pinpoint where the exact location of each sticking point is. That might work, at least to some degree, but only after you’ve put in a great deal of effort.

However, what if you instead found some natural solvent; what you might call a “High Frequency” You could run that through the pipes, dissolving the sludge, grime, and build up.

This describes the work that I do with people, connecting them with powerful Divine, healing energies that transform every aspect of their lives. IT’s a way of working with the very intelligence of Nature, the intelligence that created your entire body and everything in existence.

By bringing that level of information in, no kind of dysfunction or disruption can stay put. That’s one of the quickest ways to clear problems out, by working at the energetic level.

The REAL power is in your inborn ability to dissolve toxic experiences, not reminisce about them. This is how we, as humans, Truly Evolve to transcend the difficulties that attach to us throughout life.

[cur10uscr0w]

Character Analysis: Nahiri

With the return of web fiction, many Magic fans are celebrating the return of their favorite characters to the rich, exciting format that fed the rich boom of Magic fandom such as it was in 2016. Spoilers ahead for Episode 1: In the Heart of the Skyclave.

Read here: https://magic.wizards.com/en/articles/archive/magic-story/episode-1-heart-skyclave-2020-09-02 written by @AtGreenblatt on twitter / atgreenblatt.com

It has been a long time for these characters, both to grow in story, and for the fans to keep up with out of story. Nahiri is an oldwalker, a planeswalker born before the Mending (an event 60 years ago in canon that dramatically changed the Multiverse and those with sparks); Nissa sparked just as the Mending took place; and while Jace is only a human in his mid-twenties, he has lived through some pretty intense experiences that have shaped how he sees the world around him.

Episode 1 of Zendikar Rising begins with Nissa and Nahiri meeting on Zendikar, their shared home, and discussing how Zendikar has been gravely injured by the Eldrazi's presence. Their conversation is a foundation for showing who these planeswalkers are today, revealing how the past has morphed their ideologies and particularly their relationship with guilt and protection. 

Both characters view themselves as Zendikar's guardian. This identity is essential to the choices they've made all their life, and it is directly tied to the Eldrazi threat, be it 6000 years ago or just a century ago. Let's look at the beginnings of this self-imposed duty and focus on Nahiri this week.

Nahiri sparked and found herself at Sorin's mercy. Planeswalkers used to be ever more dramatic and dangerous in the old days, godlike in power and territorial of their worlds. There were strict protocols to enter other people's worlds, and intrusions were met with distrust.

"All I see is a tantrum," he said. "If you came to meet an equal, you should have come under truce, following the protocols for parley with a fellow Planeswalker."

Stone and Blood, 2016

"There's no 'we' here, dragon," said Sorin, rising. "There's us, and theres's you. And Zendikar is under her protection."

"Hello to you, too, Sorin of Innistrad," said the dragon. "And on the contrary, when it comes to this problem, 'we' means everyone, everywhere."

He turned his great head toward Nahiri.

"I am Nahiri, guardian of Zendikar," she said. She looked up into the newcomer's inscrutable eyes and tried not to seem afraid. "Whoever you are, you're here at my sufferance."

"Of course," said the dragon, bowing. "Well met, Nahiri of Zendikar, and thank you for your hospitality."

The Lithomancer, 2014

Sorin and Nahiri trained together, and became friends, though Nahiri knew she could not fully trust him. They embarked on fantastic and tragic journeys spanning decades to fight the eldrazi, and in that time, Sorin trained a deep distrust in Nahiri.

"May I have a word with you, Nahiri?"

The clipped, dry voice was right behind her, close enough that she should have heard the man walk up to her, should have felt his breath on her neck. But he walked like a cat, and he drew no breath, and the thought of his lips so close to her throat made her shudder. Vampire.

She'd known he was there anyway—he was walking on bare stone, after all—but he himself had told her not to let anyone know all her tricks. Not even her friends, which wasn't at all sure he was.

She turned to face Sorin Markov—Vampire, fellow Planeswalker, protector of the plane called Innistrad, and the closest thing she had to a friend in this place so far from the world of her birth.

The Lithomancer, 2014

Even so, he was the closest thing she had to a friend. Despite their at times antagonistic friendship, they both appreciated the other and were relieved to see each other was doing well upon their reunion. Nahiri had worried for him, and he was pleased to see her, even dropping his brooding exterior enough to joke and clasp her shoulder.

"You'll have to forgive my rudimentary attempt at shaping stone, young one."

She spun. Sorin!

White hair, black coat, those strange orange eyes. How terrible his aspect, how dire his gaze—and yet she could not keep herself from grinning.

"My friend!" she managed to say at last. "You're alive!"

He smiled back at her, walked toward her, and put his hand on her shoulder. From him, it qualified as elation.

Their time together highlighted her belief in what it meant to be a protector. She saw herself as Zendikar's, and together they tried to protect the Multiverse so the Eldrazi wouldn't harm their home planes. Nahiri views her part in all of this as one who must protect all life. Watching even one settlement suffer on a foreign world causes her heartache, and she strives to instill hope and provide comfort and safety—even in their last minutes.

"You've made their camp for them," said Sorin. "Again. I think it's time we left them to their own efforts."

"No," said Nahiri. "We're here to save them."

"You're here to save them," said Sorin. "I'm here to stop these creatures, on this world, before they spread to others—to mine, or to yours."

Down in the river valley, dark shapes writhed. The sounds of camp life were muted.

"I can't stand to watch them suffer," she said.

"Then turn away," said Sorin, "and look at the bigger picture."

The Lithomancer, 2014

She is ridiculed by Sorin, told by him—and later Ugin—to "think of the bigger picture". Nahiri is 1000 years Sorin's junior, and informed that Ugin is even older than him, and they treat her as a child for her idealistic worldview of preventing all harm, allowing no one to suffer needlessly. She follows their plans however, respecting Sorin's judgement.

He raised a hand and conjured a small, ghostly image of the enormous thing they had seen on the horizon of that doomed world.

"You were watching us," said Nahiri, realization dawning. "And you didn't help."

"There is a whole Multiverse of people to help," said Ugin, "and a multitude of ways to help them. While you were trying to stage a grand battle, I was watching, and learning, so that these creatures can be stopped in the long run. This is a goal the three of us share."

"That's my goal," said Nahiri. "But I question the moral judgment of anyone who views the destruction of an entire world as a research project."

"What have you learned about them?" asked Sorin, ignoring her.

Wonderful. The grown-ups were talking. He had done this to her before, when meeting with other Planeswalkers. But she trusted Sorin's judgment, for the most part. She would hear the dragon out.

The Lithomancer, 2014

When Ugin presents his plan, it is to trap the Eldrazi on a plane that meets the requirements Zendikar does. To find another world would take time, and Nahiri has seen the devastation the Eldrazi wreak.

"Nahiri…" said Sorin, in what she thought of as his aggrieved-parent voice. "You saw what they did to that place. You can keep it from happening again. You heard Ugin. If we succeed, Zendikar survives."

"Risked," said Nahiri. "Damaged. What gives me the right to put everyone here in danger?"

"What gives you the right not to?" asked Ugin. "I am telling you that we can risk one world to save all others. And all worlds, including that one, are already at risk. The choice is obvious."

He lowered his head to look her in the eye.

"If you would prefer not to put your own world in danger, we can take the time to find another plane that meets our needs. If it is defended by a Planeswalker, we convince its guardian to cooperate—By force, if necessary. If it is undefended, we simply begin."

The Lithomancer, 2014

She reluctantly accepts this hardship on behalf of her plane because she believes in Zendikar's strength, and Ugin points out that Zendikar has a protector—her—that can take care of the world while it holds onto the sealed titans. It's the right thing to do, and she acknowledges she couldn't handle the guilt of shoving away the responsibility onto another plane.

They would come here eventually, if they were not stopped. They would come, and when they did, she would not be able to protect her world. And if she trapped them on some other world, to save her own, how would she forgive herself? The air of her beloved home would hold a guilty tang forever.

Zendikar was strong. It could withstand the Eldrazi long enough to trap them. Zendikar would be their prison, Nahiri their jailer, one world and one Planeswalker standing steadfast to protect all others.

The Lithomancer, 2014

Five millenia pass, Nahiri sleeping within the world of Zendikar and keeping vigil over her prisoners. At this point, she has spent nearly all of her existence toiling to keep the Eldrazi at bay so the Multiverse may live in peace. Sorin, Ugin, and she worked together for a few decades setting up the trap, and she had some time with Sorin before that, but she has dedicated 5000 years to holding the Eldrazi for the benefit of the Multiverse because that was the best way to ensure her beloved home Zendikar survived. She still viewed time under the constraints of mortality during the hedrons' construction.

It had taken forty years to establish the hedron network—what had seemed like a lifetime to her then, when she was still immersed in her connections to ordinary mortals. Crafting one single hedron would not take nearly so long, though she did it alone. The hardest part would be shaping the surface without Ugin's guidance.

Stirring Slumber, 2015

In her sleep, the kor misremembered her words about the titans, making a prophet out of her. Vampires have begun to roam Zendikar, and they disrupted the hedron alignment enough to release Eldrazi broods against Zendikar once more.

Above the male figure's head, an arcing banner proclaimed the subject of the artwork: "Nahiri the Prophet, Voice of Talib."

She turned her back on the sculpture and strode out of the building. Outside, she raised her hands and clenched her fists, and a cloud of dust billowed around her as the building collapsed in on itself.

It was her fault. She had been the first to call Kozilek a god, and apparently the kor had remembered that word more than they had remembered her dire warnings about the gods destroying the world. She felt sick.

Stirring Slumber, 2015

Even as she approached, she could tell that this was the point where the hedron network had been disturbed. Right under her nose, while she sat alone in the Eye of Ugin. Fury boiled up in her, directed as much at herself as at whoever had done this.

Fury—another feeling she had forgotten. It felt good.

She strode toward the building, each step shaking the ground and causing trickles of gravel and dust to run down the walls. As she drew near, three dark figures came around the building from the other side, crouching into combat stances as they spotted her.

Stirring Slumber, 2015

The figures seemed human, but she didn't recognize their clothing from any culture she knew. Flimsy gauze barely covered their chests, revealing the stark red paint adorning their ashen skin. Sharp hooks protruded from their shoulders and upper arms and, as they snarled at her approach, she saw slightly protruding fangs.

Vampires? she thought. There are no vampires on Zendikar.

Stirring Slumber, 2015

Nahiri deals with this resurgence and the people who brought it upon them, though it is difficult, and she must do it alone. She had agreed to sleep away her life within Zendikar, promised that should she ever need Sorin or Ugin's help, they would aid her.

Worry blossoms in her, and she is moved to help her friend, Sorin, if he is unwell. It feels good to give in to overpowering emotion again, having fallen into an apathetic halflife during her vigil. She seeks to bring meaning to her long slumber.

Other feelings she had all but forgotten, concern and anxiousness, swelled up in her heart and they made her smile even as they made her ache. They made her feel alive—the sensation of her heart pounding in her chest, the sound of it in her ears, the movement of her muscles as her brow furrowed and her jaw tightened.

What had Sorin been doing all the years she had been cocooned here in the Eye of Ugin? Was he still alive? Had he forgotten her and her vigil over Zendikar? Had he succumbed to the same apathy that had held her for so long?

She would go and find him, wake him up if she needed to, remind him of her and Zendikar and the friendship they had once shared, remind him what it was to live, to feel, to care. She had saved Zendikar, and now she would save him. And then she would return and walk among her people again, she would teach and laugh and love again, and it would matter again. It would all matter.

Stirring Slumber, 2015

Her reunion with Sorin begins alright, he is clearly pleased to see her and she is relieved he is doing well; however, she becomes wary, uncertain, as to what could possibly have kept Sorin away from fulfilling his promise to come to her aid. 

This is also a pivotal moment in how she sees herself in relation to other planeswalkers; she realizes that they are now much closer in age than when she entered sleep and are something akin to equals rather than student and mentor.

She reached up to cover his hand with hers. She was awake now, her body suffused with the warmth of life. His fingers were as cold and dead as ever.

"You never came," she said. "On Zendikar, when I activated the signal from the Eye of Ugin, you never responded. I feared that—"

Sorin withdrew his hand, frowning.

"The Eldrazi have broken free of their bonds?"

"They did, yes."

"Where is Ugin?" he asked.

"He didn't come either," she said, trying not to let bitterness reach her voice. "But I handled it. On my own. With all the strength I could muster, I managed to reseal the titans' prison."

It struck her, suddenly, that she was now far older than Sorin had been when they had met. In her memory he towered over her, her ancient mentor, a thousand years her senior. Now, what difference did a thousand years make? They were equals. At least.

Stone and Blood, 2016

When she inquires why he didn't come, he reveals his magic protecting Innistrad may have possibly prevented her call from reaching him. He speaks to her patronizingly, and she realizes the possibility that he chose his plane over hers and left her to rot, having used her for her service to the Multiverse.

"It's not inconceivable," he continued, sounding bored, "that your signal from the Eye was unable to break through the magic that protects this plane."

Sorin's own spellcraft had kept her from contacting him? She felt a sudden sense of vertigo, and picked her next words with care.

"Did you know at the time that that would happen?"

"It did not occur to me," he said. "Though I see now that it was a possibility."

Stone and Blood, 2016

Get up? she cried. You broke my arm!

So fix it, he said. He wasn't even looking at her.

Fix it? Fix it? How in the hells—

Only then had he finally explained to her that she was no longer mortal. That her body was a convenience, a projection of her will.

You should have told me that to begin with, she said, holding back tears of anger.

Ah, he said, in that bored but benevolent voice. It did not occur to me.

He was using that voice now, talking down to her. But the girl he had mentored was long dead, buried in a tomb of stone. Only a Planeswalker remained. And a Planeswalker would not be condescended to.

Stone and Blood, 2016

"I don't want your enmity," said Nahiri. "All I ever wanted was your help, Sorin. You made a promise. Come with me."

"Not now," said Sorin, with infuriating calm. "Later, perhaps. This is a critical time—"

"A critical time!" snapped Nahiri. "The Eldrazi almost escaped. You're thinking in terms of eons, but for all I know the Eldrazi are loose now. All that we worked for will be lost, your own plane will be in danger—don't you care about that?"

It hit her, then. The imprisonment of the Eldrazi had become her life's work, a constant effort that had kept her bound to her plane for almost her entire existence. But for him it had been an eyeblink—forty years of mild effort, five thousand years ago, in exchange for millennia of peace of mind. And now, with his new countermeasures, perhaps Innistrad wasn't in danger. Perhaps Nahiri and Zendikar and a hundred million carefully placed hedrons had served their purpose, in the mind of Sorin Markov.

Stone and Blood, 2016

Their argument escalates to blows as Nahiri's pain at being used sharpens into anger. She trusted Sorin. She allowed Sorin and Ugin to use her home, and sacrificed so many years of her life to protect the Multiverse. Sorin still sees her as a child planeswalker and won't even come back to Zendikar like he promised to make sure their work doesn't go to waste.

"Don't dismiss this," she said. "I was willing to jeopardize my home by luring the Eldrazi to it. I promised to chain myself to Zendikar to watch over them as their warden. I spent millennia with those monsters. Do you know what that's like? All you had to do was come when I needed you."

The ground began to shake, the bedrock below them vibrating in sympathy with her mounting rage. Of all the stone and metal nearby, only the silver Helvault seemed beyond her reach.

"Don't presume to own my actions, young one. I am obligated to nothing. I owe you nothing! When your Planeswalker spark first ignited, it was I who discovered you. I could have ended you there, but I spared you."

He turned back to her, orange eyes full of malice, face inches from hers.

"I took you under my wing, and molded you into what you are," he said. "If you find it necessary to pester someone, go find Ugin. I have no patience for it."

No patience. No patience. Pain gave way to anger in a white-hot instant.

Stone and Blood, 2016

Strands of eager silver closed around her body, drawing her in. Shards of rock whirled through the air, the bedrock beneath their feet shifted at her rage, but the Helvault itself did not care.

"Damn you!" she screamed. "I trusted you!"

He loomed over her, now, the angel's wings spread behind him, and he spoke one last time before molten silver flooded her ears. He sounded almost sad. Almost.

"I never asked for your trust, child. Only your obedience."

Then the Helvault claimed her, and she vanished into a darkness vast and total.

Stone and Blood, 2016

She spends a thousand years trapped in the Helvault, lost in a sea of darkness and demons. Nahiri gave everything for the Multiverse, and her thanks is to be threatened with madness as she wastes away in a void.

It was not like her cocoon of stone back on Zendikar, the slab of rock where she had slumbered for five fitful millennia. In her cocoon, dreamlike, she could sense all of Zendikar, reach out to any part of it, appear wherever she wished.

This was much, much worse—only darkness, and falling, and the unmistakable scent of Sorin Markov.

Sorin would pay for his treachery. She would escape from this prison, and she would make him pay. She'd thought they were allies. Friends! Now she saw him for what he truly was: a monster, plain and simple.

Stone and Blood, 2016

She comes to realize Sorin is a monster that she should have never trusted, and she isn't the only being wronged by him. His own creation, Avacyn, has wound up in the Helvault and Nahiri recognizes her to be twisted with hate, and Sorin's puppet.

The angel rose toward Nahiri—slowly, slowly, in this timeless void—until they were side by side. The cloud of demons had dissipated as Sorin's protector gained the upper hand. The angel looked over at Nahiri, and for a moment their eyes locked—and finally Nahiri understood. Sorin hadn't enslaved an angel. He hadn't tricked her or coerced her. This angel stank of Sorin, just like the Helvault.

He had made her. Just like the Helvault.

The angel recognized her, from their long-ago fight. Dark eyes flashed with fury—fury Sorin had instilled. He had created her in his own image, twisted her from the beginning. Made her hateful. Made her his. Nahiri shuddered.

Another being grievously wronged by Sorin Markov, one with no chance of vengeance or redress. No chance of freedom. A porcelain doll, to replace the student he had lost.

Stone and Blood, 2016

When she is finally broken out of the Helvault, she returns to Zendikar, a thousand years since she first realized the hedron network was being messed with, and finds her home to be a husk of what it once was. She knows what titans can do to a plane, eating the mana and corroding the land to such a degree the world itself cracks. She resigns herself to the fact that she can't destroy them herself, that Sorin's selfishness has led to the destruction of her home and all the Multiverse, and that she intends to take revenge on Sorin first.

Nahiri fell to her knees, pressing her hands into that lifeless dust.

If this was loose on her world—

If what happened here could happen everywhere—

If she had no preparations, a thin shard of her old power, and a hedron network centuries out of true—

Then the Zendikar she knew was dead. There was no saving it. One might as well try to stop the sun in the sky. She closed her eyes and saw her Zendikar, Zendikar as it had been. The world she had let Sorin Markov destroy. Hot tears of rage ran down her face and landed in that awful dust with a hiss.

"As Zendikar has bled, so will Innistrad."

She opened her eyes and looked down at her hands, at hands that had shaped stone and trapped titans. They were covered in gray dust.

"As I have wept, so will Sorin."

Stone and Blood, 2016

In these six millenia, we see Nahiri give everything, even her sense of self, for the protection of Zendikar. She is thought naïve and a bleeding heart for her unconditional care for those who walk all the planes of the Multiverse. She is routinely told by her mentor, her friend, her ally, that she must focus on the big picture. She is told that she is sacrificing herself for the greater good, to keep balance, and she is congratulated in this endeavor after decades of hard work.

Looming above the highlands of Akoum, the three Eldrazi stood petrified, surrounded by a web of floating hedrons. Nahiri knew the earth here. It was already reacting, growing around the great Eldrazi like a scab over a wound. The teeth of Akoum would swallow them, and the inhabitants of Zendikar would scour the plane of their brood. Zendikar had survived, ravaged but whole, and its people would learn to live in the shadows of the hedrons.

"Well done, Nahiri," said Sorin. "This was your work. Your sacrifice."

The three of them would test the strength of the lock, make sure the titans were secure. Perhaps Sorin and Ugin would help her scour the land of the Eldrazi broods. She hoped so. And then, sooner or later, the two elder Planeswalkers would depart, and Nahiri—and the Eldrazi—would remain.

She stared up at the silent, stony shapes. Ramparts of stone already crept up around them. Perhaps in a thousand years they would be forgotten, their destruction fading into legend. But Nahiri would not forget them, and neither would the land itself.

"This was our work," she said. "My work is just beginning."

The Lithomancer, 2014

When she wakes up from a watch that lasts thousands of years? Her response is to relish in emotion because she has let herself be encased in stone for so long. She laughs through pain because it's so novel, and she thinks of her friend who should be helping her. Nahiri worries for his safety, wonders if he has come upon a similar fate as she had, vows that she will bring love and laughter to his life once more as she dreams of walking through markets and experiencing life again.

His betrayal is a knife in the back. As far as Nahiri is concerned, his words all those centuries back were hollow. He never considered the pain she may be in, nor the fact she may not hear her call for help, as he rose defense around his home. She saves Zendikar from its first Eldrazi resurgence and rushes to save her friend, only to find he has moved on and doesn't care about her.

In a Multiverse where she has failed—the Eldrazi have escaped and will eat all of creation one way of the other—she has nothing to lose. She only has hope that she can exact revenge, and buy as much borrowed time for Zendikar while she does. She knows from her work with Sorin and Ugin that the Eldrazi can be directed, and will ignore other planes in their path.

The hedrons were lure as well as trap, sending out pulses of magical energy that drew the Eldrazi like the scent of blood draws sharks. Slowly, ponderously—and, Sorin reported, ignoring other worlds along the way—the Eldrazi approached Zendikar.

The Lithomancer, 2014

Nahiri destroys Sorin's bloodline, his home, and traps Sorin in rockface, leaving him captured in rockface so he cannot planeswalk away. She leaves him to watch the destruction of everything he holds dear. She leaves him trapped like he left her.

Innistrad is no longer her concern, she's been gone from Zendikar too long. Zendikar had been her salvation to get her through her millenia-long jailing, imagining it in its entirety. Her duty to Zendikar becomes forefront once more, having written off Innistrad, and she is dismayed by just how much has changed in her absence. While the Gatewatch trap Emrakul and halt the Eldrazi threat, Nahiri is focused on how she can help her beloved world, afflicted by the Roil.

Her whole life has been dictated by duty. She sees Zendikar as hers, because when she walked the Multiverse before her slumber, planes belonged to the planeswalkers that claimed them. It is also her obligation to fix what has become wrong because in her absence, her work has irrevocably changed Zendikar and its inhabitants. Her words have been twisted into idolization of the Eldrazi and her hedrons have become a sacred piece of kor spirituality.

Through episode one of Zendikar Rising, Nahiri is easily angered. Her guilt is expressed through fury, because she sees her work on Zendikar as failure. Skyclave fell, and the world is so unstable she can barely get through a short conversation without the world trying to swallow her. When the Roil was new, she likened it to a scab festering over a wound, and it seems 6000 years has only made her disgust of it more severe.

She speaks to Nissa with the same casual dismissal that Sorin and Ugin treated her to, because all her very long life, older planeswalkers treat younger planeswalkers as children. She manipulates conversation to put herself in a place of knowing and leading, not revealing everything so that Nissa must follow if she wishes to aid.

"I might have a solution," Nahiri replied, inclining her head toward the Skyclave. "Something that will heal Zendikar."

Nissa blinked. "You do?" she blurted in surprised, and then awkwardly added, "Sorry, I mean, you're not exactly known for healing. After what you did on Innistrad . . ."

Nahiri raised an eyebrow. "Says the person who set the Eldrazi free."

"I didn't—"

The elf stammered, but Nahiri raised a hand.

"We've both done things that have caused great damage. Let's try to undo some of it."

In the Heart of the Skyclave, 2020

"Look around you—this Skyclave is healing. The Roil stopped below us, and the land is calming. People will be able to rebuild here!" Nahiri said gesturing at the Skyclave's repair.

"At the expense of Zendikar's life," Nissa retorted. She reached out her awareness to the plants and moss that grew in the corners and cracks of the Skyclave, but they didn't respond. Nissa knew then that everything that lived in that ruined fortress was dead.

"You don't know what Zendikar was like," Nahiri said, her voice tight with anger, "you don't know how stunning and bright its people and cities used to be."

"And you don't know what Zendikar is like now. It's still beautiful, Nahiri"—Nissa reached out her hand—"give me the key."

In the Heart of the Skyclave, 2020 

She has spent so long trying to protect Zendikar, and she is willing to do anything to have back the Zendikar that she remembers. To return the Skyclave to the kor. To return Zendikar's stone to the peaceful earth it was before she let herself be duped by an elder dragon and vampire she thought was her friend.

She grieves the world she left behind, unable to see the beauty of the world that she now stands in. On Innistrad, she thinks to herself that a thousand years in the Helvault is rest enough for several lifetimes, and her rage has been building in all that time, rekindled after she let herself fall apathetic for too long.

The sacrifice of some elementals—of even a person or two as we saw in the trailer—is worth it for The Bigger Picture, that she has been taught to seek.

We will have to wait and see how the story unfolds and how her fury carries her through.

Check out Magic Story next week Wednesday for episode 2, and I will be following up on Thursday with a character analysis of Nissa!

[aion-rsa]

Power Rangers Beast Morphers Season 2 Episode 22 Review: Evox Unleashed

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

This POWER RANGERS BEAST MORPHERS review contains spoilers.

In the end this is how it was always going to be. For as excited as I was after last weeks triumphant Power Rangers Beast Morphers episode, there was no way this episode could live up to it. ‘Evox Unleashed’ is good but it’s not great and much of that can be put down to the mandate that has held back Beast Morphers from living up to its true potential.

As I’ve mentioned many times before but bares repeating now, when Senior Vice President of Power Rangers Franchise Development and Production Brian Casentini left the franchise he left us with this revealing quote.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

“I am a big fan of serialized storytelling, but most broadcasters across the globe want more episodic storytelling for scheduling ease.”

Knowing this was a limitation helped me understand the series more and review it under the proper context. It improved many episodes knowing the plot line wouldn’t continue and I could appreciate what they did in such a short time. It hurt others when they didn’t use the standalone story to give us more insight into the characters or even tell a proper one and done lesson. Standalone doesn’t mean it has to be completely disposable.

Casentini went on to say in that same interview that, “I think we found a really great balance (between serialized and episodic) with Power Rangers Beast Morphers.” To give the show credit, many of the serialized episodes did work. The problem was that they more often felt like glimpses into a fully serialized show than proper serialized stories in of themselves. Something felt off about them even when they were good.

That’s not to say only the serialized stories had merit. Some episodic plots were fairly fun and a few were great. Most of them though weren’t used to develop the characters in a meaningful way. Without that the serialized moments the show was able to have couldn’t land. Without character arcs even the biggest of plot moves feel empty.

So it’s no wonder that when we get to the finale we get a lot of great moments that are kneecapped by a lack of development from earlier in the series. The start of the finale is great. It’s tense, we get a tearful moment between Zoey and her mom, and there’s an incredible sequence of the Rangers busting out old weapons. I still wish they had put more time into explaining how the Ranger Vault came to be but it was genuinely clever to have them use old weapons to get around Evox’s ability to absorb their own. Great way to have fan service but still impact the story.

We also get some good callbacks to last episode when Nate says, “I made you, Evox, but today we’re gonna destroy you. As a team!” Perfect way to cement the lesson he learned. Evox later saying, “it’s been a long time since I’ve taken out a civilization” was an excellent RPM callback.

Steel’s sacrifice was also powerful and devastating. More than anyone else we’ve gotten to know and love Steel over these two seasons and he’s always been a delight. Seeing him sacrifice everything was a huge shock but very effective. It gave the rest of the episode more weight. The problem is that while the solution the team comes up with is a good one (combining their human DNA with Morph-X) it’s rooted in the message that the team is strong because they’re human. That’s… true, I guess? But the finale acts like this is something that’s been building up the entire show. It hasn’t. Outside of Steel’s desires to be human this was never built up as a central theme. This wasn’t a constant problem the characters had to deal with in their episodic adventures. I guess you could stretch and say Ravi felt like a bit of a robot when he had to ignore his feelings for Roxy and his love of art but that’s being generous.

Far more effective would have been the very simply message of you don’t have to solve your problems alone. That would have tied into pretty much everyone’s stories in the series. Devon needed to take advice from his dad but refused to listen. Zoey was determined to solve big problems but often tried to do it all on her own. Ravi hid away his feelings and suffered alone. Nate felt isolated from the world and had to build a brother to find friendship. Hell, that would have been a great way to bring in Ben and Betty who while bumbling have always worked together.

And making the ultimate theme of the show, “you’re strong because you’re human” is even more head scratching when you remember the Beast Bots. Are they not strong because they’re robots? Are they only strong because they have human best friends? Is Steel only strong because he’s half human? It’s an odd message with some alarming undertones if you sit there and analyze it. Just looking at on the surface it boils down to ALL MACHINES ARE BAD… when the show did a lot of work to make the Beast Bots sympathetic.

Much of the weight of the start of the episode was able to establish is lost in this confusion and in Steel coming back to life as a human. It’s cute that he finally gets what he always wanted but it robs the show of a more powerful ending. I can understand not wanting to kill a Ranger even if he is a robot but if there were anytime they could get away with killing a Ranger, it’d be here. The human ending is also strange because they add Steel’s voice to his human version. I get why they did it and it was okay in the body swap episode but here it felt too silly. Just give him a regular voice. It would help sell the scene instead of distracting the audience with unintentional comedy.

We then cut to one year later and the montage of scenes is mixed. It’s incredible that Mason Effin’ Truman comes back for a small cameo that also ties off Scrozzle. It subtly does some world building (Corinth and Grid Battleforce are in more contact) and it allows Ben and Betty to finally get some development. Anytime Power Rangers uses James Gaylyn it gets an extra point.

Devon suddenly being a commander doesn’t really work. He moved up in the ranks that quickly? After one year? That’s a little far fetched. Was he even officially enlisted in Grid Battleforce? No one can go from being a recruit to a commander in one year. If he was a commander-in-training I could believe that. This, not so much. Did he even express a desire to be a commander? If this was rooted in an episodic outing earlier in the series it might have been a little easier to buy.

Zoey and Nate working on clean energy was nice though and a good reminder of the franchise’s progressive history. I’m glad they took the time to explain how the city moved away from Morph-X to something that’s attainable in the real world. Power Rangers loves a good message and this was a small but needed one.

General Shaw (love this promotion!) painting with Ravi was cute although it just reminded me how human Roxy was barely in this show. Same with the very bizarre bit with Steel becoming an actor and Blaze being his stunt man. Uh, that came out of nowhere? Steel being an actor, okay, he’s a wacky guy and I can buy that. But Blaze being a stunt man? Yeah he did karate a few times but nothing in the previous episodes set that up. That would have made a nice episodic story that could have reminded us Blaze existed!

The series closes out with the team throwing Steel a birthday and they sing ‘It’s Great to be Human” cementing it as the very odd theme of the show.

Parts of the finale do work, especially the first half, but without any buildup of the shows central themes or the character arcs it all feels flimsy by the end. Its competent but the episodic mandates on the show as a whole crippled its chances. This could have worked with more planning on how the episodic stories could have supported a larger theme but that wasn’t allowed or simply wasn’t done. It makes the finale feel like a slapdash ending that wants to be big and grand but can only manage the trappings of it. The human DNA mixed with Morph-X was a great solution to destroying Evox but rooting it in “it’s great to be human” just made it fall flat. It’s a decent finale but one that will sadly be more known for finally wrapping up the Venjix cliffhanger from RPM than wrapping up Beast Morphers’ story.

This leaves Beast Morphers in a middle ground in the history of Power Rangers. It was a decent series with a lot of potential but ultimately couldn’t deliver on most of it and felt aimless for much of its run. There were genuine moments of quality throughout and you could see a great show in it. Sadly the episodic stories were not up to a high enough quality to sustain the series between the serialized ones, where the show seemed to spend much of its energy. This was Beast Morphers‘ biggest mistake.

Those standalone stories could have been structured in a way to still be episodic while forming a backbone to the show that let those serialized stories thrive. Without that backbone the attempts at serialization just felt like reminders of wasted potential instead of solid stories in their own right.

I’m very interested to see where Power Rangers goes from here. Simon Bennett is one of the more experienced show runners to join the franchise so his influence on the show could be a positive one. Hasbro has also  gotten out of the training wheel phase with Power Rangers and could have a better idea of what they want out of the franchise. I hope they take the lessons learned from Beast Morphers and use them to find the best way to work within their mandates to make Power Rangers the best show it can be. It has the potential, Beast Morphers showed that. Let’s hope they can live up to it.

The post Power Rangers Beast Morphers Season 2 Episode 22 Review: Evox Unleashed appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3gK1hIr

[thekytchensynk]

To Be a Hero (Fictober Prompt 10)

Prompt number: 10

Fanfiction Fandom: My Hero Academia

Rating: G

Warnings: None

Read the story on AO3

Even though the doctor promises that their child has a quirk, for a long time, Neito’s parents aren’t so sure.

They try to give it time. After all, their own quirks aren’t the sort you can see in a child either. Her hyper-eidetic memory could be useful, but was a little hard to notice at first. His ability to tell the exact temperature of anything he touched had to wait at least until the child had the ability to talk and a working understanding of temperature beyond “hot” and “cold.”

But as he headed off to kindergarten, where his classmates were all showing off their nascent abilities, it quickly became clear he didn’t have either of their quirks. And all they could do when he came home asking about it one day was reassure him that the doctor said so, and his ability must just be special, and waiting for him to be ready.

It is three months into the school year before his teacher puts in a tentative call to them. Yes, he’s a bit of a handful, but aren’t they all at that age. Anyway, we’ve been considering whether to call you about this for a while. Yes, we wanted to be sure. For weeks, he has been exhibiting signs of a quirk. No, it’s a little different. It only lasts a few seconds and there was never any consistency. But yesterday was the third time it happened, and we noticed it always matched the quirks of his classmates. No, we’re not sure what it means, but we figured you should know, since you may not be seeing it at home. Yes. Yes. Thank you. Good night.

His parents are thrilled, until family gatherings start to get … distant. Oh, sometimes it’s normal. His grandfather swings him up into his arms and asks about school. Two of his cousins join him in a game of tag in the backyard. But his aunt steps subtly to the side when he runs by, and asks her children to sit quietly instead of joining in the games like usual.

He doesn’t much notice -- tag is tag -- but his parents do.

“It’s not that I don’t love him,” she explains to her sister later when questioned about avoiding Neito. “He’s my nephew. But it’s just … it’s weird, isn’t it? What if it gets stronger when he gets older? It’s copying now, but what if someday he … It’s just … I’m sorry. It’s just weird.”

His parents don’t think it’s weird. They think it’s amazing, a morphing of their two quirks in a completely unexpected way. And their boy is outgoing and self-sure and maybe a little bossy but they love watching him taking on the world.

Doing his assigned chores after school is something that 7-year-old Monoma doesn’t mind, of course. But it’s boring, and he likes talking to his friends --to anyone really -- and sometimes he loses track of time. So today he’s sweeping out the cubbyholes in the back alone, the rest of the students having already finished and fled for the greener fields of the sunny outdoors. His teacher sits at his desk at the front, supervising in name, but mostly grading papers.

The silence settles like an uncomfortable weight on Monoma, so he does what he assumes anyone would -- he fills it. Tells his teacher about the great rescue he saw on TV the other day. How he cut out the picture from the newspaper the next day, and has it plastered next to his desk at home. How he’s going to be a hero too, someday.

When Monoma mentions UA, he thinks he knows what to expect -- the eyebrow raise, the thinning of the mouth, the amused chuckle that so many adults have when he talks about being a hero. But instead, the teacher smiles down at the papers he’s working on.

“Interested in taking a hero course?”

“Yeah!”

The teacher considers this a moment. Nods. “I think that’s a great idea.”

A great idea? No chuckle? The teacher thinks it’s a great idea? Monoma can’t stop the grin. See? At least someone knows it’s not impossible!

“I think a lot of agencies would love to have a sidekick with a power like yours,” the teacher continues, making notes on the sheet in front of him. “They could have two of anyone they needed on site, depending on what the situation called for. You could be very useful!”

“Sidekick?” Monoma’s grin fades. What’s this man talking about? Sidekick. He’s definitely hero material.

The teacher nods. “You always have trouble with the new powers when you pick them up, but if you were working with the same people all the time, you-”

“Wait, I haven’t had an accident in a long time!” He hates that the teachers call losing control of a quirk “having an accident” like he’s a baby who wet his pants. But it’s the word they use, and so he does too.

The teacher looks up, and the sudden move puts a stop to the childish defense. “I know. I know you’re trying and I know you don’t mean to.” And he’s right. Monoma tries not to let it bother him, but he’s right on all counts. New quirks are hard to control when he first gets them. He goes at the last cubby with an extra vengeance, dust particles flying.

“Yours is a difficult quirk,” that voice continues. “And that’s just a limitation it has. I know it’s tough, but better that you accept it now and focus on what you can do. Which is still quite a lot.”

The teacher is trying to be encouraging, but all Monoma can hear is how stupid this man is. How he’s talking down to his student like... like a child! Which, sure, he is technically, but a teacher shouldn’t talk like that! Isn’t he supposed to encourage the best in them?

“Of course, you’ll have to work hard.” The teacher doesn’t even notice as Monoma’s fingers curl harder around the little brush handle, nails biting into his palms as he tromps over to the garbage can and tips the dust in. “And UA may be … a little ambitious. With your grades, you’ll have a hard time getting into the big-name ones. There’s still time though, if you study harder.”

The teacher looks up then, and on seeing his student’s face, his expression grows somewhat softer. “Hey, don’t worry about it,” he says, clearly still trying to be encouraging even though he doesn’t get it, he doesn’t get it at all. “If you work hard, I’m sure you can succeed anywhere you’re accepted.”

Objectively, someone on the outside might have recognized that the teacher could be right. All quirks have limits, and this could very well be his. But in that room, at that moment, Monoma decides he’s wrong, foolishly and completely wrong. The limitation isn’t with his quirk, his quirk is awesome. The limitation must therefore be with Monoma himself, and if that’s the case … well, he just needs to get over it.

And act like a hero.

Putting on his best grin, Monoma says, “Thanks! I’m sure I can too.”

It becomes a weekend tradition -- he goes to the park, or to a mall, or just out on the street and he introduces himself to at least a dozen people. He shakes their hands and thanks them and leaves them mystified as he walks off again. And then he concentrates.

Quirks come in an infinite variety, and he can feel each one in a range of ways. He used to try to explain to people what their quirks felt like, but the strange looks he got weren’t worth it. Besides, they felt their own quirk all the time. They probably couldn’t even distinguish it anymore. It was just part of the landscape of their sensation every day.

But Monoma can, and the feel can tell him how careful he has to be with a quirk, how on guard, how controlled.

His mother’s quirk is squared off and pale, with rigid edges and infinite possibility. It’s supportive and steady and predictable. It also takes very little to control, which is good because he borrows it from her regularly.

Father’s feels different -- it’s a ball of red that sits in the middle of his chest, in the warmest part of his body, and when he reaches for something, it extends a tendril out to his fingertips. It feels alive within him, like a sleepy cat reaching a paw out for a stray kibble.

And over time he learns that’s the first thing to look for -- how alive it feels. Because some quirks want to be used more than others. There’s an electricity to them, an energy that beats against him like a caged butterfly.

He never forgets the day the kind lady with the gray hair and the welcoming smile shakes his hand and he borrows what feels like a cat made of fire. It burns and batters at his ribs and he guesses it shows on his face because her smile fades and she asks, “Are you all right, little boy? Is your mother here?”

I’m fine, he tries to say, but the heat is burning at his throat and he feels like if he does speak, if he relaxes his attention for even that long, it’s going to get out. He darts off, not even hearing whether or not she calls after him. He just runs, runs until there’s no one around and he’s in the grimy but uncluttered alley between two stores on a street he’s not sure of. And here finally, he tries harnessing that animal in him. It feels hot, so he expects fire when he reaches out.

Nothing happens. The maelstrom within rages, but he can’t figure out how to focus it and use it. His fingertips feel hot -- burning -- and he presses then to the wall just to feel the cool of the shadowed stone.

He doesn’t expect them to sink straight in.

But the stone melts under his fingers, and at the same time the power switches -- from a wild cat trapped somewhere it doesn’t want to be to a watchful one, laser-focused on some small animal. With the power having an outlet, it becomes more ordered, but it’s also melting a building and it’s using his fingers to do it, so he pulls them back. But the moment he does, it feels restless again and begins badgering for freedom.

He forces himself to walk slowly, head down and fingers splayed, until the time runs out and the quirk disappears. And it’s hard not to just run home afterward and hide in his room. There’s always next weekend. Another new quirk.

But he doesn’t. He doesn’t because he can’t.

Because the weakness in himself won’t disappear if he hides in his room.

Because he refuses to just be a sidekick.

And because he thinks next time he gets a wild quirk like that he may have a better idea of how to harness it.

He’s 11 when he finally really, truly understands the difference between himself and All Might.

It isn’t Sara’s fault that she still comes to school in last year’s worn out, slightly-too-small uniforms. Kids don’t buy the uniforms, their parents do. Any idiot should know that. But three idiots are following her down the sidewalk after school, loudly making comments to one another about the slight stains. About the way it strains around her shoulders. About her appearance in general. As she speeds up, they speed up too. When she finally has enough and whirls on them, they all raise an eyebrow at her. “What?” The ringleader asks in faux innocence, and she, frustrated, turns and starts stomping down the sidewalk again.

It’s not right. And before he really realizes what he’s doing, he has run across the distance between them and placed himself in the space between the bullies and their target.

“Stop it,” he demands, staring the trio down. “Leave her alone.”

They pause, surprised by his sudden appearance. But none of them look particularly bothered by it. The ringleader -- a wiry boy with a wry grin -- again speaks for the group.

“What’re you going to do about it?” he asks, voice inquisitive.

There’s not really a good answer. He hasn’t really thought that far ahead. So he does what he thinks a hero would do. He balls his hands into fists and says, “I’ll stop you.”

The ringleader exchanges looks with his two friends -- his large, stocky bodyguard buddy on the left and then the lanky, hunched hanger-on on the right -- then looks lazily back at his new target. Monoma, who struggles in gym class and can feel his legs quavering beneath him, isn’t a fan of the look.

A nod seems to be the signal. The bodyguard takes a step forward, his own fingers tightening. Then he lunges.

The musclehead is also 11, and from his hiss of pain, it seems like he hurts himself as well somehow when he punches Monoma in the face. But Monoma can’t really be sure because somehow he’s on the ground and his face hurts and his palms sting and his ears are full of a high, whining noise and he can see the shadow of the ringleader falling over him like a shroud.

“I said, what’re you going to do about it?” the kid asks again. Then, as a bit of punctuation, spits out, “loser.”

Monoma half expects the kid to kick him, but he doesn’t. The group just leaves. He’s apparently not even worth messing with beyond this, and as he lays on the ground, he’s not sure whether to be insulted or relieved.

His unwillingness to explain his bruises and scrapes clearly worries his parents. If he had a mindreading quirk to hand, he might have known about how in that bruise, they saw the harsher echoes of family members who refused to treat their Neito like any other child, of parental fears of cruelty and misunderstanding.

But he can’t see any of that, so when his parents enroll him in judo classes, he guesses they think he’s picking fights and they want him to learn discipline. Which he tries to tell them he doesn’t need. But as long as he won’t explain what actually happened, he supposes he can’t blame them for their mistake.

Judo classes are fun, but by the third one, he starts to get mysterious stomach aches right before they leave. His parents don’t press him after the second session he misses, and he’s sure they have their own thoughts about why he doesn’t want to go. But he expects their guess is wrong.

There are a lot of cool things about him -- it’s actually awesome how awesome he is -- but even the best things have a few drawbacks. And Monoma can’t deny that he has a certain … problem … with impulse control.

It’s like … he has it. Of course he has impulse control. But sometimes, it can be hard to maintain it. He finds thoughts slipping out in words before he even realizes it. He doesn’t usually care about that. But this time, it would be different.

Because whenever he touches one of his classmates, to help them stretch or whatever, there’s that temptation. The temptation to see what their power is like.

It’s not just the practice for his quirk. Neito likes people. Finds most of them fascinating. Tries to understand them, even ones he doesn’t enjoy being around. And there’s always something interesting about seeing what a person’s quirk is, what it feels like. Because all too often, it tells him something about the person.

But he still hasn’t perfected his ability to immediately harness any new quirk. So there’s a chance he might completely disrupt a class without even meaning to. But even knowing that, he can feel that ...that itch in the back of his head urging him on.

So he stops the lessons. Better to avoid the temptation.

Monoma finds most people fascinating, but there are exceptions. In every situation, there are strong people and weak ones.

And he hates bullies.

It’s certainly not personal. How could he possibly be so base as to carry a grudge over being picked on for his quirk, for his way of speaking, for the zealous way he tries to uplift the people he likes and respects? Utter foolishness. It doesn’t even cross his mind. Not once! He can handle whatever they throw at him. Definitely.

But it’s unfair for others. And he doesn’t like it.

Because if you already have strength, using it just to put people down, to hurt them and belittle them? What’s even the point? You already have the power in a situation.

And that makes it hard to admit that he might need to study them.

Because some of them are just brutes, people whose strength is in their fists and their feet. But some of them are a little more insidious. They see the weak points, or dig them up, and attack those points, crumbling their target’s defenses and putting them off balance which makes them all the easier to take advantage of.

It’s a hard thing for him to pick apart because it means paying attention to some truly awful people. But he sticks with it. Because All Might shows that strength in your fists or feet can be a force for good. And Monoma thinks, maybe this can too.

He’s never had a problem speaking his mind, to anyone. He’s been called “blunt” or “mouthy” or “an idiot” (the last one, he resents. The rest …. eh.) And as the end of middle school approaches and the weight of trying to get into UA hangs over his head, the question occupies his mind more and more. How can I be a hero? How can I help people?

He’s gained more control over his quirk -- he can hold more than one now, and “accidents” barely ever happen. But he knows it’s not enough. Because unlike basically everyone else trying to be a hero, he never knows what tools he’ll have at any given moment. His quirk is never going to be enough on its own. He needs more. And since he’s long since learned that the “something else” is unlikely to be physical, it’ll have to be mental. So he’s watched, and learned, and both fears and hopes for the day when he gets to try it.

It comes near the end of his final year of middle school. As he prepares to head home, he sees Ringleader and his henchmen (Bodyguard and Hanger-On) outside trying to “borrow” money for something from a classmate. So Monoma gets to work.

A couple minutes later, he walks up just as the trio is about to walk off, cash in hand. “Hey fellas,” he says, stepping in front of them and putting his all into sounding as familiar and casual as possible.

It bugs Ringleader. Monoma can see it in the narrowing of his eyes. “Whacha want, Hero?” he asks.

That word -- hero -- is a slur on Ringleader’s lips, but Monoma lets his grin get bigger. He puts his arms out to the sides in a sort-of shrug, phone in one hand. “Awww, don’t be like that! It sucks that you probably won’t be getting into any of those schools with the baseball teams you really admired, but hey! Sometimes life is just cruel, right? I just wanted to extend my sympathy.”

Any good humor Ringleader had from scoring money off their classmate (who has wisely retreated from the fuse Monoma has lit) is gone now. “Where’d you hear that?” he demands.

“Oh, nowhere special. Just around.” But Monoma takes a chance, looking down, then letting his eyes dart briefly over to Hanger-On.

On a normal day, at a normal time, probably Ringleader wouldn’t fall for this. But first he got irritated, then he got paranoid, and now he sees that sly glance and as Monoma hoped, he rounds on Hanger-On. “What did you say?” He demands, voice low.

It takes a second for the kid to even realize he’s being addressed. Once he does, his eyes go wide, his hands go up, and while he’s utterly sincere, he’s made himself a picture of deflection and deception in the paranoid eyes of his boss. “What? No, Watari, I didn’t say anything, I swear. He’s lying.”

“So how is this getting around the school?” Ringleader growls. Ignoring the fact that he’d been bitching about this to his friends loud and often enough last week that several people had overheard it while waiting for their rides after school. It hadn’t even taken much asking around for Monoma to find someone willing to spill the “secret.”

But even if Hanger-On is thinking that, there is no way to say it without just making Ringleader mad, so he wisely chooses the better part of valor and books it across the schoolyard.

Ringleader makes like he might go after the kid, then lets out a disgusted “Tch” and turns back to Monoma. “And I don’t know why you thought this was a smart thing to do, but now I’m in a bad mood. Get out of our way.”

Monoma keeps grinning. “Aww, sure! Just give that guy his money back and we’re done.” His voice drops a bit and he leans forward to say, “And hey, if the words i’m using are too big, just let me know. I’d hate to let your limited vocabulary get in the way of this reaching a friendly resolution.”

He thinks it’s the grin more than the words that do it, but Ringleader’s last nerve snaps. He doesn’t even say anything, just nods, and Bodyguard steps forward.

Here goes.

Monoma raises both hands, palms out, and invokes the quirk that’s tingling in his fingertips. A brilliant light pulses from his palms, brighter than a camera flash, and only slightly blocked by the phone he pinches between his right thumb and forefinger. This quirk comes courtesy of an underclassman named Gin who Monoma had clapped on the shoulder before coming outside.

Ringleader reels back, cursing and covering his eyes. Bodyguard’s reaction is less pronounced, but he does also squeeze his eyes closed, and his suddenly unguided attack swings wide of Monoma.

That’s the setup. And now, the closer.

As his hands begin messing with his phone, he lets go of the light quirk and switches to Sara’s own little quirk, which he feels like a cool mist in his throat.

“Wait, please don’t hit me,” Monoma puts a little fear into the words. And he uses her ventriloquism quirk to place the sound directly between Bodyguard and Ringleader.

Bodyguard is all instinct and primed for helping his buddy, so the expected swing comes like clockwork. Connects. Monoma has the camera up as Ringleader goes down. And it’s here that he finally lets himself relax a little. Ringleader’s quirk makes a small sphere of darkness. It wasn’t likely to change how this interaction went, but it could have. He’s glad he didn’t have to react to it. Rethinking the plan in the middle doesn’t sound at all good. Not yet.

He checks on Ringleader (He’s sure being punched hard enough to be knocked out can’t be great for the guy), but once he’s sure he’s still breathing and stuff, he backs out of Bodyguard’s range and messes with his phone some more.

Eventually Bodyguard focuses on Ringleader lying on the ground in a way that suggests he can see at last. Monoma sees a teacher hurrying out of the school, and decides it’s now or never.

“That was a heck of a punch,” he says, waggling his phone in one hand. “Can’t wait to show our friend Watari.”

Bodyguard makes like he’s going to go for Monoma again, but the teacher’s voice cuts through the schoolyard like a breaking branch. “Yuuto!” And he stops mid-move, settling for glaring at him instead.

“You can’t.”

“No? Well, how about this,” Monoma says, tapping the corner of his phone against his own cheek. “You lay off our classmates until graduation and I won’t. Two weeks. Deal?”

“...Deal,” the guy says through gritted teeth.

The teacher sends another student for the nurse, to help Ringleader, then marches Monoma and Bodyguard into the school, to the principal. Bodyguard goes first, probably because between Monoma with his slim frame and “useless” quirk or Bodyguard with his quirk that increases the weight of his hands and feet, it’s not much of a guess to figure out which one had knocked out Ringleader. He listens to them talking about how someone with a quirk like his needs to be extra careful. How he needs to stop picking fights and thinking about his future. That they should maybe suspend him, and only his protestations that it was an accident seem to earn him some leeway. Blah blah blah. Monoma tries to tune it out as he waits for his turn in the wringer.

When Bodyguard finally leaves the principal’s office, he doesn’t even glance at Monoma.

The teacher and the principal ask him questions, which are easy enough to answer.

No, he didn’t hit anyone.

Yes, they were picking on someone and he stepped in to help that person.

Yes, he thought they were going to hurt him so he used the flash quirk. That was why he picked it up before intervening -- so he could defend himself if they decided to do anything.

They don’t ask him how Bodyguard ended up clocking his best friend -- they must now believe his assertion that it was just a mistake when he couldn’t see. Instead, he gets much the same lecture as Bodyguard, just dressed in different clothes. You can’t get in fights like this, you’re only going to get yourself in trouble. You need to think about your future and what you can do. You may mean well, but you keep causing trouble.

He knows they want him to look contrite and chastened, but he can’t. He didn’t do anything wrong. So he just listens, nodding at the appropriate moments, and lets most of the criticism wash over him. He does apologize for using a quirk out on the schoolyard -- he knows that’s not allowed, he agrees -- but other than that he’s just waiting for it to be over.

Because he knows part of what they’re trying to tell him is, stop wanting to be a hero. But that’s never going to happen.

UA, here he comes.

[maswartz]

Power Rangers Bushido Blades

(Logo by @masterpikachu6)

Long ago in ancient Japan there lived a mighty shogun, loved by his people he ruled during an era of peace until a dark threat rose. The Akukai, monstrous beings created from the spirits of the dishonorable dead began to attack the innocent.

Fortunately an order of monks and priestesses discovered a way to infuse kanji with a person’s spiritual essence creating the ability of Kanji-Ryuko. By using a Kanji Command warriors could unleash incredible attacks and abilities. The Shogun studied this ability and had a group of handpicked warriors study it as well. The order also provided a series of talisman to the samurai to give them further power in battle. Using this ability the group of samurai was able to fend off the invasion and finally the Shogun gravely wounded the leader of the Akukai, Chionio (Blood Demon King) as he and the rest of the warriors created a seal to keep the monsters trapped. However in the resulting explosion they were caught in a seal themselves.

Many centuries later the conditions were just right to break the seals releasing both groups. Chionio was still healing from his wounds so his followers attacked the world to avenge him as the samurai aim to ward them off once more as the Power Rangers Bushido Blades!

Red Bushido Ranger- Takeshi Hakuryu*- The shogun of a great land long ago. While he may act arrogant and prideful he truly cares about those under his rule. When he awoke in the modern day he was devastated to learn his land fell while he was gone. His spirit roars like a mighty inferno as he wields the Burning Broadsword. His talisman becomes the Lion Bushido Zord Face Claim: Steven Yeun

Blue Bushido Ranger- Daisuke Shimizu*- A great warrior who once fought the shogun in battle. Once he was disarmed he continued to fight, as he braced himself for the killing blow he was shocked Takeshi had chosen to spare his life. Awed by his power and mercy he swore his life to him. Even after all the centuries he keeps to his vow. His spirit is as powerful as a rushing river as he wields the Rainfall Bow and Arrows. His talisman becomes the Dragon Bushido Zord Face Claim: Ross Butler

Yellow Bushido Ranger-Yoshiko Doi*- A member of the order who discovered Kanji-Ryuko. She is highly skilled in the use of it however her combat ability is lacking at first. She is quiet and contemplative however she opens up around close friends. Her spirit is as solid as a rock as she wields the Boulder Cutter. Her talisman becomes the Monkey Bushido Zord Face Claim: Sakurako Okubo

Green Bushido Ranger-Shun Kobayashi*- A cunning ninja who heard tales of the shogun’s power. He spied on him for weeks watching him until witnessing his full power in a battle. As an enemy attempted to attack the exhausted shogun from behind he cut them down with a quick attack. In gratitude Takeshi welcomed him even after he revealed he knew he had been spying on him the whole time. His spirit grows like the lush forest as he wields the Leaf Spear. His talisman becomes the Bear Bushido Zord Face Claim: Osric Chau

Pink Bushido Ranger- Rin Kazehaya*- An assassin hired to slay the shogun she got within striking distance when the shogun blocked her attack. Impressed with her obvious skill at her craft Takeshi hired her as his personal bodyguard, after having her eliminate her previous client first. Her spirit is as swift as the wind as she wields the Whirlwind Fan. Her talisman becomes the Turtle Bushido Zord Face Claim: Yuuka Yano

Gold Bushido Ranger- Hiroki Fukami*- A student of Japanese mythology who witnessed the Samurai’s first battle after they escaped the seal. He was the one who dubbed them Power Rangers and helped them adjust to the many changes in the world. Soon he would create a way to fight alongside them using a new form of Kanji-Ryuko. His spirit shines brightly as he wields the Glowing Blade. He creates a pair of talisman resulting in the Lobster and Squid Bushido Zords Face Claim: Harry Shum Jr

Red Bushido Ranger- Kiyoko “Kiki” Ryumine* - An idol singer who makes waves by speaking out against the horrible conditions idols often face. She’s currently staring in the Japanese version of Triumph Trio based around flowers, she plays Triumph Rose. She is also the descendant of Takeshi, after discovering her link to him she begins to study the lost art of Kanji-Ryuko. She uses it to restore an ancient Bull talisman resulting in the creation of the Bull Bushido Zord. Her spirit is as fiery as a blaze as she wields the Burning Broadsword. The two Reds eventually learn that a shared relative, the descendant of Takeshi and the ancestor of Kiyoko fell to the Akukai. Now called Yakikiri (Burning Cut) this demonic swordsman is out for the blood of both Reds Face Claim: Kyary Pamyu Pamyu In time the Rangers discover a new talisman allowing a person to unlock all their spiritual power at once creating the Spiritual mode. In this mode a Ranger’s power is increased tenfold. By infusing the talismans with Kanji-Ryuko the Rangers can call forth the Bushido Zords which can combine to form the Bushido Megazord Red- Torso and head Blue/Green-Legs Yellow/Pink- Arms An additional trio of talisman become the Beetle, Fish, and Tiger Bushido Zords each giving the Bushido Megazord increased power as well as combining into the Thunderbird Bushido Zord which combines with the Bushido Megazord to form the Soaring Bushido Megazord

The Lobster Bushido Zord forms its own Megazord as the Shining Lobster Megazord which has four modes including one that combines with the Squid. It can also combine with the main Megazord to form the Shining Bushido Megazord armed with a powerful cannon. The Bull Bushido Zord also forms its own Megazord as the Bull Bushido Megazord. The three Megazords can combine to form the Bushido Ultrazord.

Morphers- Bushido Brushes Morphing Call- Spirit of Bushido, arise and become my blade! Morphing- Their elemental symbol surrounds them in their element forming the suits Rangers Of Two Universes: A warp in reality brings the RPM Rangers to the world of the Bushido Rangers resulting in both teams working together to fend off an alliance of their enemies looking to take advantage of the warp. (Faces by @autumn-clearwater and @dream-chef-flavors) *From Japanese 武 (takeshi) meaning “military, martial”, 健 (takeshi) meaning “strong, healthy”, or other kanji having the same reading. and This surname combines 白 (haku, byaku, shira-, shiro, shiro.i) meaning “white” with 竜 (ryuu, ryou, rou, ise, tatsu) meaning “dragon, imperial” or 柳 (ryuu, yanagi) meaning “willow.” *From Japanese 大 (dai) meaning “big, great” and 輔 (suke) meaning “help”. Other kanji combinations are possible. and From Japanese 清 (shi) meaning “clear, pure, clean” and 水 (mizu) meaning “water” *From Japanese 良 (yoshi) meaning “good, virtuous, respectable”, 芳 (yoshi) meaning “fragrant, virtuous, beautiful” or 悦 (yoshi) meaning “joy, pleased” combined with 子 (ko) meaning “child”. This name can be formed from other kanji combinations as well. and Do (“Earth”) + I (“Habitation”) or (“Well, Mineshaft”) in a different region. “Earth Well” is used mainly in the west and in Shikoku, the “Earth Habitation” kanji is used in eastern Japan. This name isn’t rare and considered out of the ordinary, but it’s uncommon to the ears. *From Japanese 駿 (shun) meaning “fast”, 俊 (shun) meaning “talented”, or other kanji which are pronounced the same way. and From Japanese 小 (ko) meaning “small” and 林 (hayashi) meaning “forest *From Japanese 凛 (rin) meaning "dignified, severe, cold” or other kanji which are pronounced the same way. and Kaze means “wind” and haya means “fast *From Japanese 大 (hiro) meaning "big, great” and 輝 (ki) meaning “brightness” or 樹 (ki) meaning “tree”. Other kanji combinations are also possible. and 深 (Fuka) means “Deep” and 見 (Mi) means “View, Mindset, See” *From Japanese 清 (kiyo) meaning “clear, pure, clean” or 聖 (kiyo) meaning “holy” and 子 (ko) meaning “child”. This name can also be formed from other combinations of kanji characters. and 竜/龍 (Ryu) means “Dragon, Imperial” and 嶺,峰,峯 (Mine) means “Peak, Summit, Mountaintop

Power Rangers Aquitar<-Powerverse->Power Rangers Guardian Spirits