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xjoonchildx · 5 years ago

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guarded | jhs x reader | chapter five: italian leather gloves

summary: you’ve tried to separate yourself from your infamous crime family, but a new case has your carefully-constructed world crashing down around you. now you have to figure out how to heal old wounds and handle the new man who enters your orbit.

pairing: hoseok x reader

genre: mafia AU, E2L, slow burn, tsundere, smut

rating: 18+

word count: 6.0K

A/N: so the smut warnings start to go into effect in this chapter, guys! i can’t believe how many kind messages i’ve gotten about this story. please just know that i read every single one and i promise they all make me so happy. i really hope you guys like this chapter and i hope it answers some questions. of course i must thank the squad @ladyartemesia @taetaewonderland @ppersonna for being an amazing support system and kick ass beta readers. love you guys.

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | EPILOGUE

****************

Everything hurts.

The moment you open your eyes, you wish you hadn’t. Late morning sun streams bright and unforgiving into your bedroom, making the ache in your temples even more pronounced. You spend a good ten minutes lying flat on your back, staring at the ceiling and remembering everything that went wrong last night.

So terribly, terribly wrong.

Your punishment today -- apart from the pounding headache and sour stomach -- is that despite doing your very best to drink yourself to blackout, you remember every minute of last night in painstaking detail. There’s a cruel clarity to the way your mind replays the awkward dinner with your boss and the confrontation with Donghyuk.

And your fight with Hoseok.

Shame curls in your gut when you recall the nasty things you’d said to try and get a rise out of him. The nasty things he’d said in return when your goading finally worked.

“People like me do the dirty work so people like you can impress rich assholes at stupid parties.”

It’s not like you didn’t already know Hoseok saw you as some kind of entitled rich bitch -- but that didn’t make hearing the words spoken out loud any easier. It didn’t make the anger you provoked in him any less jarring.

And it didn’t make the moment he saw your scar any less humiliating.

That’s when you feel like you might be sick -- when you remember the way Hoseok went completely still at the sight of your damaged skin. The way he’d tried so hard to look like he wasn’t staring and failed.

You get out of bed and slip an oversized sweatshirt over your head, take a few deep breaths to try and calm the wobbling sensation in your stomach.

That’s when it hits you.

You don’t smell coffee.

****************************

Kim Seokjin looks like he’s made himself quite at home when you finally work up the nerve to leave your bedroom. He’s reclined deep into your couch, long legs propped up on your living room table, tablet in hand. He looks up from the screen to take in your bedraggled appearance with wide eyes.

“Rough night, huh?”

“Something like that,” you say quietly. You make your way to the kitchen in search of a glass of water and Seokjin stands up from the couch to follow you.

“Hoseok, uh --”, he pauses for a moment, rubs one hand across the back of his neck, “ -- said he needed a couple of days to take care of some personal stuff.”

You pour lukewarm water into a glass, take one tentative sip and say nothing.

“So you’re stuck with me,” Seokjin continues slowly, “For a little while, anyway.”

You stare into your glass, unwilling to meet Seokjin’s eyes. It shouldn’t surprise you one bit that Hoseok took off after what happened between you last night. It probably shouldn’t hurt either.

But it does.

The little water you’ve managed to get down feels like it might come right back up.

“You okay?” Seokjin asks after a long pause.

“No,” you admit. “I don’t feel good. Probably going to stay in bed for the day, so it’ll be a quiet one for you.”

Seokjin nods sympathetically.

“You know what’s good for when you’re feeling sick?” he asks. “Samgyetang. I found some in your fridge. It’s pretty good too, kinda --”

Your stomach lurches at the mention of that goddamned soup.

You leave Seokjin mid-sentence to retch in the privacy of your bathroom.

*****************************

The next time you open your eyes, it’s to complete darkness.

You wake disoriented, not sure if you’ve slept for hours or for days. The last thing you remember after getting sick was barely getting down some painkillers and a little more water before crawling back into bed.

Then it was lights out.

Physically, you feel better. The hammering headache is gone and the motion sickness is gone with it. But as you lie awake in the darkness, there’s no way to escape your tumultuous thoughts. The ones that keep going back to Hoseok and that fight.

“People like me follow orders so people like you don’t have to.”

No doubt the story of how you left the Gajog has been distorted over the years, passed between gossips in some twisted game of telephone. No doubt the story that’s told now is not about the scared teenager desperate for any semblance of stability; it’s about some spoiled little girl who decided she was too good for everyone else.

“People like me stay behind and handle our responsibilities so people like you can walk away from yours.”

That was definitely the worst blow of the night, though.

There is just enough truth to that accusation to make it stick, to make it sting. You did walk away. You did leave your brother behind.

You run a hand through your hair and reach for your phone to check the time. 9:30 PM.

You feel almost human by the time you get out of the shower and walk out into the living room to find Seokjin dozing on the couch. You feel guilty for rousing him, but it’s his job. You know this is something you have to do right now.

“Jin,” you call out, nudging him gently. His eyes blink back, unfocused as he tries to get his bearings.

“Yeah?” he’s alert at once, looking around. “You okay?”

No, but I’m going to be.

“I’m alright. I need you to take me to see my brother.”

****************************

Namjoon has a beautiful penthouse on the water, a luxury apartment high above the Han River. But there’s no wife, no children waiting for him at home. Nothing in that place but echoing walls and modern art.

So he spends most of his nights at the office.

Seokjin called ahead, just in case -- but you knew your brother would be there. He’s still dressed in his suit, a tumbler of scotch in hand when you arrive. Seokjin doesn’t have to be asked to leave.

“You don’t look well, Amsaja,” he says quietly as you sit in the chair opposite his grand desk.

“You are not the first person to allude to that today,” you say with a humorless laugh. You look down at your giant sweatshirt and jeans, and shove a hand through your still-wet hair. “Message received.”

His eyes are soft with concern. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing,” you say, blowing out a heavy breath. “Everything. I just -- I just needed to see you.”

You were still a little girl when you learned the hard way that tears were futile and pointless and only served to make you a target. But you feel them welling in your eyes anyway. The reflex feels foreign and rusty after so many years of disuse.

“I’m so sorry, Namjoon,” you choke out, voice thick. “So, so sorry.”

Namjoon sets his tumbler down on the heavy wood of his desk, walks around it and over to you. When he gets down on one knee and reaches out a hand to brush your cheek you don’t see the grown man at the helm of Seoul’s largest criminal empire. You see the brother who took care of you when no one else would.

Despite your best efforts to stop them, the tears come anyway.

Namjoon holds you close, strokes your hair while you cry into the jacket of his expensive suit. He doesn’t say anything for a while, just waits for your body to stop shaking with the force of your sobs and for your breathing to even out.

“Why did you let me leave?” you ask once you’ve managed to regain some control. “Why didn’t you ask me to stay?”

Namjoon sighs, standing to stretch his legs. He grabs his drink before walking over to the window to peer down at the lights streaking by below.

“One of us deserved to have a choice,” he says quietly. “It was never going to be me. I didn’t want the same for you.”

Your heart breaks all over again, hearing Namjoon say those words out loud. Your brother, born into a legacy he never asked for and a responsibility he could never run from. Your protector who let you walk away from the life he couldn’t escape.

“You saved me,” you whisper. “He would have killed me if I hadn’t left Seoul.”

“I know that,” Namjoon admits, “I saw it coming, too. The worse his drinking got -- I couldn’t let that happen. I refused to let that happen.”

You stand out of the chair to walk over to the window. Your brother’s profile is illuminated by the passing lights, mouth set in a grim line.

“You forced him to let me go.”

It’s not a question. Namjoon nods.

“I told him I would disappear if he didn’t let you leave. And then what? He’d have spent his entire life grooming me for nothing. He was just weak enough from the drinking to agree. He couldn’t fight me on it anymore.”

You shut your eyes against the fresh tears that come.

“I’ve been so selfish.”

“We’re all selfish, Amsaja,” he sighs. “We all want things we can’t have. That’s human nature.”

It makes your chest squeeze -- how desolate that admission sounds. You think about your brother’s massive, empty apartment. Who takes care of him? Who does he have to talk to? You swallow past the taste of guilt in your mouth.

“We could leave all of this behind, Jaegyueo. Start over. Make our own choices this time.”

Namjoon huffs a sad laugh into the rim of his glass.

“How I got here is not the point anymore,” he says. “You think if I dismantled this organization right now that all of this would just stop?”

He turns away from the window to look you in the eye.

“There would be ten syndicates ready to fill the hole we would leave overnight. And I promise you,” he shakes his head, “None of them would conduct business as neatly as we do. This organization keeps everything from going to shit. This is our way of balancing the scales.”

You wrap your arms around yourself and look back out the window, out to the lights that make the city glow at this time of night. You know your brother is right.

This is his destiny.

“You talk about being selfish,” he continues quietly, “How’s this for selfish? No matter how much you’ve suffered in the past, I still want you here by my side. I still want you to come back.”

Your heart squeezes in your chest.

“Namjoon, I --” He interrupts you with a raised hand.

“You don’t have to defend your stance. You have every right to leave this all behind you forever. Just know that you are the only person on this Earth that I trust without question.”

The ice in his scotch tinkles in the quiet of the office as he swirls the contents of the glass.

“Just know that there is a part of me that will always be waiting for you to come back.”

*********************

HOSEOK

Hoseok had to get out of there.

He had to put space between you and him or he was going to lose his mind.

Thankfully, Seokjin didn’t ask too many questions when he’d phoned in the middle of the night asking to be relieved for a few days. Seokjin didn’t press too hard when he asked about how you were doing and Hoseok nearly took his head off. And Seokjin hasn’t asked why Hoseok is texting him every day to make sure you’re alright.

Sometimes -- rarely -- Seokjin knows exactly when to shut the fuck up.

Hoseok knows he should be using this time to get his shit together.

He knows he’s this close to doing something stupid. He knows he’s got to figure out a way to release the pressure building inside of him before he explodes.

He thinks about how satisfying it would be to put his fist through Kang Donghyuk’s face.

He stares down the stone-and-glass entrance to Kang’s apartment from the driver’s seat of his car, one hand tight around the steering wheel. He tightens his grip on the wheel and loosens it, over and over and over.

A call comes through.

“Hey, it’s Jimin.”

“Yeah,” Hoseok says flatly, eyes never leaving the entrance to that apartment building. “What’s up?”

“I already briefed Namjoon but he wanted me to call you, too. We finally got a hit on Lee Hyejin.”

Hoseok sits up straighter in his seat.

“What did you find?”

“We got access to her accounts. Regular payments, every two weeks -- coming through an offshore wire. Started about three months ago.”

“Shit,” Hoseok says under his breath. “A Ssijog account?”

“We’re still working on confirming that -- but yeah, like 99% sure.”

Hoseok scrubs a hand down his face.

Who gets to break the news to you that your only friend has been fucking with your case -- fucking with your entire life? He thinks back to how blank and despondent you’d looked the night of the snake incident, how withdrawn you’d been the night of the charity dinner.

How much more of this pressure can you withstand before you explode?

“What about the guy?” Jimin asks, after the line is silent for too long. “Any news on him?”

“Not yet,” Hoseok murmurs, tightening his grip around the wheel again. “But it’s coming. I know it’s coming.”

“Okay. Tae is still trying to get a complete list of accounts linked to that offshore one. If we find out more, I’ll make sure you know right away.”

Hoseok ends the call just as another call comes in.

He takes one look at the screen and rubs his fingers across his tired eyes before sending it to voicemail.

He knows he could have handled the situation with Dae with more care. He knows he could have done more than end their casual arrangement with one call. Dae had been furious, demanding he give her some kind of explanation so she could understand why it was over.

Hoseok hadn’t been lying to her when he said he didn’t know why.

But as he sits in the dark -- staring at the entrance of Kang Donghyuk’s apartment building -- he considers for a moment that he might have been lying to himself.

His phone rings again.

“Jung,” Namjoon’s voice comes over the line. “You in the middle of something?”

“Nah,” Hoseok lies easily. “Just relaxing. What’s up?”

“Come have a drink with me.”

*********************

It’s nearly midnight by the time Hoseok makes it across town.

Namjoon appears to be in a contemplative mood tonight, glass of scotch in hand, long body leaned back into his plush chair.

“You’re off-duty tonight,” Namjoon says, taking a sip of his drink. “Scotch?”

Hoseok makes a face.

“Definitely not. Have any whiskey?”

“Yeah, I think I’ve got a bottle around here somewhere.”

Namjoon picks up his desk phone to reach his assistant, who makes quick work of finding a bottle and a clean glass. She delivers both with practiced silence before slipping out of the room.

Hoseok can’t help but notice his boss’s gaze lingering on the pretty young woman as she retreats. He keeps his mouth shut because he’s not an idiot.

Once he has a tumbler of whiskey in hand, Hoseok leans back into his own chair, undoes the top buttons of his dress shirt.

“Something specific you want to talk about?” he asks, sipping his drink.

“Just checking in,” Namjoon says quietly. “I’ve barely seen you these past few weeks. Want to make sure everything’s alright where you’re concerned.”

“I’m fine,” Hoseok says. “Jimin called me about the shit he found on the Lee girl, though.”

“Yeah. I don’t think my sister’s going to take that news well,” Namjoon murmurs. “She’s not exactly the trusting type. A betrayal like this -- ”

He trails off, abandoning one thought for another.

“Does she talk to you?”

Hoseok clears his throat.

He tries not to think about the last time he saw you and the terrible things you’d said to one another. He tries not to remember the look on your face before you turned away from him.

“Not really. Keeps to herself a lot.”

“Yeah, well. She’s had to put up with a lot of shit over the years,” Namjoon admits, rubbing his fingers across his lips. “She keeps things close to the vest.”

Hoseok sags deeper into the plush chair and takes a drink, welcomes the burn that comes with it. He already knows Namjoon is not looking for some kind of dialogue tonight. Namjoon is looking to unload.

Hoseok keeps quiet and lets him do just that.

“My sister has been punished for things beyond her control since the day she was born,” he continues. “My role was clear from day one and hers much less so. My father was too ignorant to figure out how to raise a little girl without a mother and too disinterested to even ask for help.”

Hoseok’s fingers tighten around his glass.

“She spent half her time trying to get his attention and the other half regretting when she finally did.”

The image of that scar comes into Hoseok’s mind, unbidden. The jagged lines of it, the deep indent of it. All of the tiny details that speak to the brutality behind the wound.

“He hurt her,” Hoseok says quietly, looking past Namjoon to stare out into lights outside the window.

“A thousand different ways,” Namjoon sighs, shoving a hand through his hair. “I did what I could, but I couldn’t keep her from all of it.”

The ice in his glass tinkles as he empties his drink.

“I know what people say about my sister, Hoseok,” Namjoon exhales. “None of them know what they’re talking about. She was going to be damned either way. She did what she had to do to survive.”

Hoseok swallows the last of his whiskey around the knot in his throat.

************************

He almost took the night off.

Hoseok’s body could have used the rest, and his mind certainly could have, too. But every time he closes his eyes he sees you, hears your brother’s words.

The pressure inside him keeps building.

He woke up this morning thinking about that photograph inside Namjoon’s desk -- the one taken inside your apartment. The one taken while you were sleeping and at your most vulnerable, inside your own home.

Every cell in Hoseok’s body is telling him that Kang Donghyuk took that picture.

That’s why he’s in his car tonight, following Kang home from the office again. That’s why he’s pulled into a space just outside the man’s high-dollar highrise prepared for another night of waiting and watching.

Fuck, he’ll do it every night until he gets the answers he’s looking for.

A call comes in from Seokjin.

“Hey,” Hoseok answers on the first ring. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Seokjin sighs. “Quiet. She’s busy working in her room or something. Why do I have the feeling you’re not at your place taking the personal time you said you needed?”

“Mind your business,” Hoseok mutters.

Seokjin laughs.

“Honestly, I just called because I’m bored. Wondering if you ever plan on coming back to your post. I’m going out of -- “

“-- Shit,” Hoseok interrupts, sitting up straight in his seat. “I gotta go.”

He ends the call before Seokjin can ask why.

Hoseok squints against the dark when he sees Kang Donghyuk walk out of the entrance to his building. Kang stands on the curb, hands shoved into the pockets of his dress pants. Even from a distance, Hoseok can see he’s looking up and down the street.

He’s waiting for someone.

Hoseok’s entire body is tense as he watches a sleek silver car pull up outside the building’s entrance and Kang slip into the passenger seat. The car takes off and Hoseok’s pulse picks up.

This is it.

He waits until the sedan is a few hundred feet ahead to pull out into the street. He’s careful to keep pace with the surrounding traffic so he doesn’t give himself away. And after a short drive, the silver car parks outside a run-down warehouse in one of the shittier parts of the city.

Hoseok pulls into a dark space, cuts the ignition and hides the bright display of his phone.

He watches Kang Donghyuk get out of the passenger seat, followed by the driver of the car. A man Hoseok recognizes as Ssijog right away. The men have a short conversation in the street before disappearing into the warehouse.

Hoseok’s hand tightens around the steering wheel, then loosens. Again and again and again.

He knows the protocol. He knows he should have called this in five minutes ago.

He hasn’t.

He won’t.

Instead, he reaches into the console to pull out his favorite pair of Italian leather gloves.

*************************

Dressing the part has always served Hoseok well, even in this line of work.

Tonight -- his meticulously chosen suit and tie are his ticket inside Kang Donghyuk’s secure high-rise apartment building. Hoseok walks right past the security guard on duty so casually that the man barely looks in his direction.

It takes him only a few minutes to find the door to Kang’s apartment and the entrance to the service elevator nearby. Hoseok stands back into the recess and balls his hands into fists. He concentrates on the stretch of his leather gloves.

Then he waits.

Kang Donghyuk doesn’t keep him waiting long.

Just a short while later, he’s at his apartment door, fumbling with his keys. Hoseok waits until he nudges the door open before making his approach.

One firm hand to the back of the neck and one firm shove is all it takes.

Kang Donghyuk falls through the entrance to his apartment just as Hoseok is closing the door behind him. He rolls onto his back on the floor, eyes wide and sputtering.

“What the fuck man?”

Hoseok doesn’t bother to answer that.

He pulls out his pistol and points the barrel at the cowering man. Kang’s pupils blow wide and Hoseok feels a pulse of satisfaction at his obvious fear.

“Start talking,” Hoseok says, voice low and controlled.

“About what?” Kang squeaks -- voice slipping out an octave too high.

Hoseok clicks the pistol’s safety into place and off again just to ensure Kang hears the sound. The coward reacts immediately, covering his face with his hands.

“Alright man, I’ll talk. Just chill -- “ he wheezes. “I’ll tell you whatever you need to know.”

“I need to know everything, Kang,” Hoseok says between clenched teeth. “Start fucking talking.”

Donghyuk sits up slowly, hands raised and eyes fixed on Hoseok.

“They came to me a few months back. All they said is they wanted her to fuck up the case. That’s all, I swear.”

There’s no feeling of satisfaction for Hoseok when he hears the words spoken aloud. There’s no victory in confirming the guy he thought was a piece of shit all along is actually a piece of shit.

The pressure inside him continues to build.

“You’re working with the Lee girl?”

“Yeah,” Donghyuk admits miserably, eyes unmoving from the barrel of Hoseok’s gun. “She would help me make copies of her keys and shit. She knew where the important files were, too. I mostly had to keep her out of the apartment when they needed to get in and -- ” he clears his throat, “ -- other stuff.”

Hoseok sees red.

Fury ignites inside of him at the innuendo packed into those two short words. His pistol seems to warm in his hand.

“You took that picture,” he whispers, finger tightening around the trigger. Donghyuk winces, swallows so hard Hoseok can see his Adam's apple jump in his throat.

“Yeah,” Donghyuk admits, curling in on himself. “They asked me to.”

Hoseok turns the gun in his hand so fast Donghyuk barely has the time to put his hands over his face again. He cracks the butt of his pistol against the side of Donghyuk’s skull and the man whimpers as he rolls over in pain.

The pistol whip should have been enough to take the edge off of Hoseok’s rage.

But it’s not enough.

He holsters his gun and Donghyuk stares up at him from the floor, terrified.

“Get up,” Hoseok hisses.

Blood has started to seep from a gash on the side of Donghyuk’s head but the man complies. He stumbles to his feet just in time for Hoseok to take him off balance again. He wraps one hand around the man’s throat and squeezes tight, pushing him back against a wall.

Donghyuk’s eyes bulge as Hoseok pins him to the wall with that hand.

“Never, ever --” Hoseok spits the words, grip crushing the man’s neck, “-- go near her again. Do you understand me? That’s not something I have to repeat even for someone as stupid as you, right?”

Donghyuk’s face is mottled, features frozen in fear as he attempts to nod his agreement.

Hoseok tightens his grip and the man starts to turn a satisfying shade of red. The color deepens as Hoseok squeezes harder and all he can think about is how easy it would be to end him, how just a few more seconds of this pressure could cause his windpipe to collapse. How one more hard press of his fingers could solve the problem of Kang Donghyuk forever.

But protocol.

Hoseok finally releases his grip on the man’s throat and Kang immediately slumps down the wall, into a pile on the floor. He gasps, hands clutched to his chest as he fights to regain his breath.

Hosok stands back, straightening his coat and adjusting his jacket underneath.

He gives Kang Donghyuk one last glance before walking to the door.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” he warns quietly. “I’d hate to have to pay you another visit.”

Hoseok waits for the door to click closed before pulling out his phone to call Namjoon in the quiet of the hallway. He’s a little breathless when his boss picks up on the first ring.

“Regarding Kang Donghyuk,” he murmurs. “There’s been a development.”

**********************

Namjoon’s call comes late the next afternoon.

“Hey,” Hoseok breathes into the receiver, balancing his phone between his shoulder and ear. He drops his hand back into the bowl of ice water at his side. “What’s up?”

“I need you to come in,” his boss says evenly. “So we can discuss next steps.”

“Be there in ten.”

It’s a little pathetic, the way Hoseok perks up at having somewhere to be.

Even meeting with his boss to explain how he broke protocol and nearly choked a man to death beats sitting in his apartment, icing his sore hand. It sure as hell beats sitting on his couch, staring at the TV and trying not to think about you.

Namjoon takes the news of Kang’s involvement and Hoseok’s insubordination surprisingly well.

He’d listened to Hoseok’s account of how he’d tracked Kang to the warehouse and ambushed him outside his apartment with quiet calm. Maybe it’s his imagination, but Hoseok could swear he almost saw Namjoon smile when he described pistol-whipping Kang inside his apartment.

Yoongi -- pragmatic as ever -- laid the options out plainly.

He argued that the Gajog could get rid of either Lee Hyejin or Kang Donghyuk, but not both. Killing both, Yoongi reasoned, would put an entirely different kind of target on your back. Both Hoseok and Namjoon agreed with that assessment. Yoongi has always had a mind for strategy, even if his delivery leaves a bit to be desired.

Namjoon promised to think over the options before dismissing them both.

*************************

Hoseok’s hand still aches.

He’s been driving around the city for more than an hour now, not ready to go home and not certain which move to make next. Each turn of his steering wheel sends a throb of discomfort through his grip.

Fucking up Kang Donghyuk was satisfying, no doubt. But it’s not enough.

Hoseok doesn’t feel the sense of relief he’d expected to enjoy after choking that man to within an inch of his life. There’s still a dull ache inside his chest too insistent to ignore.

He tries to focus on the street signs that come and go, the traffic lights that glow against the backdrop of the setting sun. He drives until the night takes over completely and then he drives until he parks outside of your place.

When Hoseok cuts the ignition, it’s like he’s just come out of a fog. He looks up at your high-rise and takes a deep breath before climbing out of the car.

******************

Seokjin’s bag must have already been packed.

After a quick debrief he’s out the door in seconds, leaving Hoseok alone inside the quiet apartment. He sinks down onto the couch and stares at your closed bedroom door.

He should knock, he thinks to himself.

He should get the apology sitting on the tip of his tongue out of the way so the two of you can move forward from what happened the other night. He should apologize for the way he’s treated you and he should beg for your forgiveness.

Hoseok scrubs a hand down his face before resolving to do just that -- at the same time your bedroom door opens. He watches you walk to the kitchen without so much as a glance in his direction and then he hears the sound of running water.

He follows you.

Hoseok worries for a split-second that you might drop the glass in your hand when you finally spot him.

“Oh,” you breathe, “It’s you.”

Hoseok thought the last time he’d seen you -- when you’d worn that incredible gown and pulled out every stop -- he thought that was the most beautiful you’d ever looked. But somehow that pales in comparison to how you look right now, figure swimming in an oversized sweatshirt, hair loose and framing your bare face. He can’t even bring himself to look lower because you’re wearing those godforsaken shorts. Has Seokjin seen you in those things?

His brain derails and it takes a moment to get back on track.

“Sorry,” he says slowly. “Yeah, it’s me. I’m back now.”

“Okay,” you exhale, setting your glass of water down.

“I’m sorry.”

Hoseok had planned on saying something a bit more heartfelt, something with a bit more depth. He had not intended on blurting out his apology the moment he saw you.

“I don’t want you to feel sorry for me,” you say softly. “I don’t want your pity or anyone else’s.”

Hoseok steps closer and you tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, a nervous gesture.

“That’s not what I said,” he insists, shaking his head. “I’m not sorry for you, I’m sorry for me. I’m sorry because I’m a fucking jerk.”

You blink back at him. “What?”

“I’m sorry -- ” Hoseok takes another step forward, “ -- that you have to put up with assholes like me who think they know everything about you when they really don’t know anything.”

Hoseok ignores the voice inside his head warning him not to press you too hard, not to take this too far.

“I’m sorry anyone has ever tried you because I promise you they are going to pay,” he vows, stepping even closer.

You lean back against the heavy stone of your kitchen island, eyes wide.

“And fuck -- ” Hoseok practically chokes the words out, “-- fuck, I am so sorry for wanting you as badly as I do when I know I have no right.”

There is a moment after those words tumble out when Hoseok thinks he may have just fucked everything up for good. A moment when your mouth drops open but you say nothing and Hoseok is certain you’re going to make him leave.

But you don’t.

So he kisses you.

Hoseok swallows the sound of surprise you make when he slants his lips over yours. You reach your hands around his neck to pull him closer and go up on your tiptoes to make up for the difference in height. Hoseok groans into your mouth when your nails scrape against the back of his neck.

Any moment now -- any moment now he’s certain you’re going to come to your senses. You’re going to demand he take his filthy fucking hands off of you. He braces for it.

But you don’t.

Instead, you melt into his touch and whimper into his mouth and what’s left of Hoseok’s sanity evaporates. The sounds of panting and groaning echo off of the stone in the kitchen as you meld your body to his.

“I want you so much,” he whispers, gripping your waist to lift you onto the counter.

It’s easy to ignore the way his hand aches in protest when you’re wrapping your legs around his waist and sinking your fingers into his hair. His cock is so hard in his pants he feels like he might explode.

You pull away from him, breathless, to lift your sweatshirt over your head and Hoseok’s chest tightens at the flash of doubt that crosses your features. The heat that creeps into your cheeks when your scar is bared and on display.

He leans close to brush feather-light kisses against it, lips soft against the rough skin. “Every inch of you is perfect,” he whispers, sucking gently at the indent in your collarbone. “Just the way it is.”

You suck in a sharp breath and release it with a strangled sigh as your fingers grip the back of Hoseok’s neck. He trails kisses from your scar, slowly down your breast, onto one aching nipple.

“Hoseok -- please,” you beg. “I want -- “

Your plea breaks apart he takes your nipple into his mouth, teeth teasing at the straining bud.

“Tell me what you want,” Hoseok murmurs, burying his face into the soft skin between your breasts, “Tell me and I swear to God, I’ll give it to you.”

Your fingers fumble for his belt and Hoseok groans when you work it apart. There’s no way he’s ever been this hard -- ever. He’s certain he could come just from rutting against the counter with your voice in his ear.

“Hoseok,” you whisper again. “Hoseok -- “

He doesn’t catch on to the panic in your tone until you go rigid in his arms.

“There’s someone at the door,” you whisper, eyes wide.

“Shit.”

Hoseok shuts his eyes, leans his forehead against yours.

You slip out of his hold and he leans over the kitchen counter, arms braced against the stone while he tries to collect the last remaining scraps of his self-control. You pull your sweatshirt back overhead and run quietly to the door.

You’re back only a moment later.

“It’s my brother,” you whisper. “And Yoongi and some guy I don’t know.”

Holy shit.

Hoseok grits his teeth, takes a deep breath, and silently wills his rigid cock to stand down. Thinking about Kim Namjoon’s face on the other side of that door helps, actually. It helps a lot.

The door knocker thuds again loudly and Hoseok can hear Namjoon’s voice coming from the hallway. You wait until he’s managed to straighten his shirt and secure his belt before opening the door.

He can see your brother’s frown from ten feet away.

“Hoseok should really be the one to answer the door, Amsaja,” he says, eyes narrowed. “Is he not here?”

“Yeah, I’m here,” Hoseok calls out, hoping like hell that his voice sounds even. “Sorry. I was just -- uh, in the middle of something.”

Actually, I was trying to be in the middle of something. That something being your sister. That’s not going to be a problem, is it?

Yoongi looks between you and Hoseok and Namjoon but says nothing.

“So what’s going on?” Hoseok asks, desperate to move the conversation along. “Something wrong?”

“Jeon is going to stay over tonight,” Namjoon says, pointing to the youngest man on his team. Jungkook walks into the apartment and bows to you before taking a seat on the couch.

Namjoon nods at Yoongi before turning to Hoseok.

“The three of us have somewhere to be.”

**********************

tag list!

@saintjeonofbusan @lemonjoonah @illnevertrustmyselfagain @sunkissed725@shadowhale @sugaminyoonjiji @jinhitwhore @trust-me-im-joly @daydreambrliever @ultraanonymousey @yoon-bug @multistantrash17 @poohsaidhi @alyboo-jpeg @sahmfanficbts @yoongissugarmommy @p-polaroid @vi-hoshi @stressedinmedschool247 @jgissle12 @ctvrty @btsnatalena @strawbewymiwk @stephleee @jalexa83 @livanthi @fantasybangtan @trviahope @mono-kookie @hauntedlilies

#hoseok x reader #hoseok smut #bts mafia #bts tsundere #hoseok mafia au #ficswithluv #btswriterscollective #ksmutclub #btscreatorscorner #networkbangtan #bangtanarmynet

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bottomcasbigbang · 5 years ago

Text

Here you can read all the stories of our second round and check out the artwork our participants have created! Thank you to everyone who was a part of this, be it as a writer, author, beta, reader, cheerleader or helping hand! Thank you so much everyone and we hope we’ll see you back for the next round! ♥

Without further ado, the BCBB 2019/2020 creations:

Wayward Sons by Substiel (Explicit, 29k)

Illustrated by bees0are0awesome

It's the year 1919 and the Wayward Sons are the most powerful criminal organization in the country. It's ruled by Dean Winchester who bares the Mark of Cain. A curse given to him when Mary Winchester made a deal with the Devil to save her dying son. Dean was always a cold blood killer who did everything for business, and he never let anyone into his heart. He didn't dare let himself get too close to someone. That was until the Roadhouse hired a new bartender.

Castiel always admired Dean from afar for helping the lower class have a voice. For some reason, the bartender knows how to get under Dean's skin. There was something different about him which led to the beginning of their newfound relationship. Two broken souls finding each other in the middle.

Archive Warning: Graphic Depiction of Violence

Art Masterpost / Fic Masterpost

My Bloody Luck by TaymeeLove (Mature, 16k)

Illustrated by Kamicom

Castiel was a struggling actor who never had luck on his side in life or his relationships. He met with an accident and his life was never the same after. Will his luck in relationships turn around this time?

Art Masterpost / Fic Masterpost

Metanoia by adestielable (Explicit, 24k)

Illustrated by Noavice

Castiel’s existence has been nothing but pain, humiliation, and degradation. He’s an omega in a world where omegas are objects for an alpha’s enjoyment.

After a brutal assault on his nineteenth birthday, Castiel began entering into beastie fights—matches where instead of people going head to head, bio and mechanically engineered beasts fight to the death. And in Castiel’s months of fights, he’s not lost once.

It’s after one of these fights where Castiel meets Dean, his supposed true mate. Castiel hates alphas, and has vowed never to let one into his life because all alphas do is inflict pain. Yet…Dean is different. And Castiel finds he can’t help being drawn to him.

Archive Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage

Art Masterpost / Fic Masterpost

Profound Kisses by BENKA79 (Explicit, 20k)

Illustrated by Gio (sketching-fox)

Dean knows he's screwed. He discovers he is in love with Castiel in Purgatory, and now he can't even have the angel in front of him, because he knows it's a one sided love. It’s Valentine's day and Dean tries very hard to hook up as always, but he can't get Cas out of his mind. So he drives back to the motel, drunk, and he finds Castiel trying to help him. Then, when Dean asks Castiel for some experimental kisses and the angel accepts, Dean starts a very dangerous game… finding in Castiel's kisses the most delicious experiences, but also, his own perdition. Will Castiel fall in love with him? Or will he stay emotionless as always?

Art Masterpost / Fic Masterpost

Sparks by DragonSgotenks (Explicit, 20k)

Illustrated by VampyRosa

Omega Cas meets Alpha Dean during one of the worst weeks of his life. Sparks fly when they realize they're truemates. But after a wild and intense night that ends with both of them sporting new mating bites, could a simple misunderstanding tear the new couple apart before they even have a chance to begin?

Art Masterpost / Fic Masterpost

Lesson Number 1: Monsters are Real by blueye22 (Explicit, 20k)

Illustrated by kuwlshadow

When Anael "Jo" Novak goes missing during a hike in the mountains with her boyfriend, worried brother, Castiel, goes in search of her. Castiel is surprised to receive the help of FBI agents, Dean and Sam. But what are they hiding?

Archive Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Art Masterpost / Fic Masterpost

You At the End of the Rail by spnsmile (Explicit, 30k)

Illustrated by verobatto-angelxhunter

Dean receives a text message from a new human Cas telling him of his suspicion that angels have found him in Gas n Sip. Still filled with guilt for kicking the ex-angel out of the Bunker, Dean steps up to make it up to his friend. Worried, Dean concludes the ex-angel has to disappear for many days so he asks Cas where he wants to go.

Cas’ answer?

Trains.

Fucking trains.

Archive Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence

Art Masterpost / Fic Masterpost

On Your Knees by raths_kitten (Explicit, 14k)

Illustrated by angeltortured

When Dean gets the assignment to follow the Fallen Angels on tour and write a feature article on them, he isn‘t their biggest fan. But that quickly changes when he hears them play live - and meets their charismatic lead singer Castiel in person.

Art Masterpost / Fic Masterpost

Just Like in the Movies by noxsoulmate (Explicit, 46k)

Illustrated by lotrspnfangirl

In a world where a new mark appears whenever you fall in love, Hollywood sweetheart, Castiel James, is known for his unblemished skin. Oh, he has the faint shadows of old crushes and childish infatuations, but no mark is that of something deep and true. No mark has ever stuck, no mark has ever become more than a hazy outline. Because Cas, well... Cas has never been in love.

The skin of bookshop owner Dean Winchester, however, tells another tale entirely. Dean loves freely, quickly, and deeply. He loves his family, he loves his friends, he still cares for his exes. While the first two don’t show on his skin, the latter do. All brushed over his body in various shapes and forms and colors. Of varying clarity. But even Dean has yet to get that one mark. That mark that sticks. The mark that is so deep, and so sharp, and so clear, it can only be that of a profound bond.

These two men share a common hope; a common desire. That one day, they might have a mark that means they have found a love that is as deep and true as love can be - just like in the movies.

Art Masterpost / Fic Masterpost

Granted by Andromache_42 (Explicit, 20k)

Illustrated by agusvedder

At forty-one, Dr. Castiel Novak is the proud recipient of a generous grant to fund his project on sustainability and urban farming from the Campbell Foundation, a small investing firm based out of Chicago. The night before he meets the award committee, lonely and pushed by his friend Balthazar, Castiel has the best sex of his life during a casual Grindr hook-up with “just-visiting” forty-seven-year-old Dean. Castiel’s life appears to be coming together, until he discovers that Dean is the head of the grant award committee. For the sake of professionalism, Castiel is willing to ignore the intense attraction between the two of them, but Dean turns out to be too tempting to resist.

Art Masterpost / Fic Masterpost

Finding Bigfoot by Desirae (Explicit, 22k)

Illustrated by Tamapochi

“Don’t be such a worrywart. It’s vacation time. Campfires, fishing, beer. What’s better than that?”

“Apparently a sasquatch sighting?” Castiel snarked, with an arched brow.

“Well, yeah. I mean, Sam’s a good substitute, but it’d be nice to see the real thing,” Dean grinned.

Finding Bigfoot wasn't exactly on the itinerary when Dean, Cas, and Sam planned their annual boys-only camping trip, but with his brother in a noticeable funk, Dean was prepared to do what he had to do. Even if it meant keeping quiet about a long-waited love confession from his best friend.

Determined to stay focused on distracting Sam from his troubles, and not make him feel like a third wheel, Dean and Castiel decide to keep their new relationship status to themselves, until after vacation is over.

After years of mutual pining, that shouldn’t be too hard, right?

Art Masterpost / Fic Masterpost

Meet me at Sunset by Suus_Arido (Mature, 55k)

Illustrated by celstese

Ever since the Barrier of Melaina fell and plunged the worlds of men, monsters and magic together, the Republic Elohim has kept its citizens save with help from the hunter organization the Red Circle.

Dean Winchester has never known how the world looked before the fall of the barrier. He and his family have been part of the Red Circle for generations and he knew it was his faith to die in battle. All he is supposed to want is to protect the innocents from darkness. But how can he when his soul is dark and corrupt?

As the monsters start to adapt and become more intelligent, the rise of chaos is not far behind. It’s midst this chaos that Dean meets a human with the name of an angel. Not only does this man believe in the salvation of the world but he also seems to believe that Dean is redeemable as well.

A love story may perhaps develop but Dean knows better, for it is known that the faith of a hunter is tragedy. Will Dean be able to make the right call? Even when blue eyes turn unrecognizable?

Archive Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con

Art Masterpost / Fic Masterpost

Beyond Borders by xHaruka17x (Explicit, 53k)

Illustrated by Diminuel

Sometimes doing what is right, what feels right, doesn't mean you’ll escape the consequences of those actions. Dean Winchester is the Head Alpha of one of the largest packs of the Western Hemisphere. He is days away from being a married and mated Alpha, ready for the next chapter in his life to commence, only for a horrific accident to change everything. Adam, Dean and Sam's little brother, is killed in a car accident across the globe in Russia. Dean finds out his little brother's now widowed Omega is all alone and pregnant, left to the mercy of his horrible home pack. Dean makes a decision and he knows things will explode when he gets back home, but he knows in his heart it’s the right thing to do.

Art Masterpost / Fic Masterpost

The Cleric's Birthright by Scribo_Vivere (Explicit, 34k)

Illustrated by yoyo-deano

Castiel Novak lost his husband and the love of his life, Balthazar, three years ago in a slaying no one has been able to solve. Burying himself in his work at the university as a leading anthropology professor there, he attempts to put the past behind him. When vicious murders begin to plague him in an eerie replication of Balthazar’s death, Castiel decides to find out on his own what sort of evil has descended upon them all. But the answers he’s looking for may not be so easily found, and the revelation forced upon him could destroy everything he knows - about himself, his world, and the faith he once held so dear. Complicating things is his new relationship with Dean Winchester, who may or may not be what he appears. Why is Castiel inexplicably drawn to him like a moth to the flame?

Archive Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death

Art Masterpost / Fic Masterpost

To Soar Without Grace by QuillsAndInk (Explicit)

Castiel is an alpha and a cleric serving the gods of his kingdom and wielding their power in preparation to join a holy war. When he gets taken by the heretical high prince of a rival kingdom, Castiel knows his fate is sealed. That is, until prince Dean tries to persuade him to take on a mad quest to kill his father and end the holy war. With heretical magic Castiel can’t understand forcing him away from the gods he’s always served, Castiel joins Dean. But in the mountain wilderness in the dead of winter with only his sworn enemy for company, can Dean and Castiel get past their differences or will the war swallow them up.

Archive Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Art Masterpost / Fic Masterpost

Cow Bells and Snow Globes by Pimento (Explicit)

It really doesn't matter what the gossip columns say. Dean knows the International Ski Champion Castiel Novak, aka, Casanova of the Slopes is actually just Cas. Loyal, kind, caring Cas. The same Cas he's absolutely not had a crush on since they were teenagers on the competitive circuit.

He's had two plus decade's practice at hiding his feelings, how difficult can it be to suppress them a little longer.

They just so happen to be in the same ski resort, at the same time for an entire season, so Dean is damn well gonna enjoy having his friend back in his life for a while and not screw it up. The fact that he seems to have the magic touch with the grumpy teenage daughter that Cas is trying so desperately to reconnect with is just an opportunity to ease his friends' troubles while he finds his feet again.

Art Masterpost / Fic Masterpost

#supernatural #Destiel #bottom!cas #top!dean #masterpost: 2019/2020 #BCBB

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melyaliz · 5 years ago

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Yellow Umbrella pt 1

Fandom: Marvel

Summary: Demon Lord Loki needs distraction from the mundane life he lives. You need to figure out who you are now that your boyfriend left you. (AU where Loki is a Demon mafia lord.)

Pairing: Demon!Loki x Reader

Warning: This is NSFW - lots of sexual content

Story notes: The character’s name is Yue because I hate Y/N I feel like it takes you out of the story. (This is my creative way around that)

My Notes: Loki won the contest! But that doesn’t mean Jason won’t show up… I have some saucy plans so don’t you worry. I also tagged everyone who liked/commented on the post. If you don’t want to be tagged just let me know and I will remove you.

All Masterlists @melyalizarchive

Connect with me! AO3 / Instagram / Pinterest

DONATE or REQUEST

------

Every story has an ending. That moment when you are sobbing on your best friend’s bed asking her why this happened. He was supposed to be your everything, he had promised you forever. He WAS your everything. You couldn't picture your life without him. Without his morning text, checking in during the day, his opinions on your life.

He had promised you forever.

How could he just leave like that?

As if those 3 years of constant meant nothing.

As if you meant nothing.

In those moments it feels like it’s the true ending. What could possibly happen next? How could life even go on? What would it even look like? How does one go on after such a shift in their reality.

The problem is this is life. There is no ending, no rolling credits. No large THE END on the last page of the book. The beginning to life is when you are born and the end is when you die. During that time there are a million different shifts and changes.

And even then people have lived before you and will live after you.

So when moments like this happen, how do you start over when your entire life has ended?

When your entire life breaks up with you.

-----

Loki sat in his boardroom. And he was bored, bored in his boardroom.

Someone come kill him.

Too bad he was a demon and couldn’t really die.

The king of demons actually.

Well A king really. The world had gotten just a bit too big for one organized faction and demons had never been very good at the whole “following a god” sort of things so many hundred years ago they had given up and did their own thing. The most powerful ones taking weaker demons and building factions to rule over.

Think of it like an underground mafia

And Loki was lord of one of the largest powerful territories.

Which was great, unless you had to be stuck in these endless meetings. Sure they were important, he needed to know what the werewolves had been up to and if the vampires were starting to group again.

But it was all so trivial. (Just send an email or something.)

That was why he had underlings. To deal with these things.

“We have a few spies among their ranks so we will keep you updated.” the man, Yash, droned on, did they intentionally get the one demon with the most boring voice to run these things? Where was the pazazz? They were demons after all.

Next to Loki his secretary Clover shifted. Her black mini skirt pushed up under the boardroom table so that the demon lord could draw lazy lines up her leg just brushing over those crotchless lace panties she had dawned just for this meeting.

She was a good secretary.

“But… the good news is souls are up and our borders have never been stronger.”

“And on that note,” Loki gripped Clover’s inner thigh before standing. Taking his beautiful scepter that his assistant Jeff had gotten him as a gift last year he tapped in against the floor. The sound echoing across the room. “Let’s take the rest of the day off and celebrate!” See Yash, pazazz

The room erupted in cheers as he added “drinks on me.”

Which is was what led them all to a beautiful speakeasy in the heart of San Francisco. The drinks were strong and the bartenders hot.

Just how Loki liked it.

One in particular caught Loki’s eye. A busty blonde who smiled brightly as he walked in. Leaning forward Loki licked his lips as the woman matched his stance, showing off just a bit more of her beautiful cleavage.

“You’re new.”

“Just helping out for the night.”

“Well I would love to learn more about you before you must leave Cinderella.”

“I'll be here past midnight don’t you worry.” she said shaking his drink. Her body bouncing with the rhythm of the movements.

Loki licked his lips, “Perfect”

She smelled of tequila and seltzer as he fucked her in the back. The cold night air coming out in little clouds as he lifted her up pushing against her. She was impressed by his super strength, humans always were, and the cold night air made her nipples perky as he let his tongue run lazily over them.

“God your beautiful.” she said running her fingers over his thick black hair.

“God’s got nothing to do with it baby” he growled thrusting into her again causing her to let out a cry of pleasure.

“Adriana?”

“Shit.”

Loki’s fingers gripped the curvy girls ass digging into the soft flesh. “Friend of yours?”

“Boyfriend…”

Turning Loki instantly knew why she had cursed. The boyfriend wasn’t alone. Four of them stood there and they didn’t look nice.

He had send his own men home assuming he would just have one quick fuck and then leave.

After all everything about that woman had screamed single and desperate.

I guess you never judge a book by it’s cover.

Not that this wasn’t his first time dealing with a jealous lover.

--------

It was raining out. Thick sheets of torrential downpour as Yue walked home. Her soft yellow umbrella taking the brunt of the storm as she sloshed down the street. She really shouldn’t have even been out in it but when you wake up at 4am with a cough that won’t let you rest there is nothing you can do but run to the local 24 hour mart and grab some NyQuil.

This cold air and rain wasn’t helping the cough but there wasn’t much she could do.

After swigging some of the blue liquid Yue started her trek home. And that was when she saw him. Leaning against the wall heavily. At first she thought maybe he was throwing up but as she got closer she realized he was bleeding.

“Are… are you ok? Do you need me to call 911?”

Her phone was out to show him she could call the police even if he tried something.

“Not much good they can do.” he said turning to her. His dark lined eyes smudge from the rain, black hair flat against his face giving him a very emo boy band look.

Welcome to the Black Parade anyone?

Holding out her umbrella the man took a step under it. “Nice boots” he said pointing to the matching yellow boots Yue had on. His eyes lifted up meeting hers with a wiry smile. He had a split lip and a few other cuts and bruises on his face. He also had a few previous scars on across his left eyebrow and one that was under the same eye down his cheek.

That coupled with the way the light of her phone seemed to make his pale skin glow gave him a little unworldly look. As if he was some fallen angel right out of a Gothic comic.

“So little yellow boots where are you taking me?”

“A hospital?”

“That’s no fun.” he drawled, running his thumb over his split lip.

Her response was a few muffled coughs eyes watering. He studied her taking in her flushed cheeks and red nose along with the 7-11 bag she was holding. “Sounds to me that you need it more than I do.”

“Well I was about to take some NyQuil and pass out.”

“Well I won’t keep you.”

She took a step forward about to leave him. She didn’t owe this mysterious stranger anything. But something nagged at the back of her head. Pausing she turned to him, “If you walk me to my door I’ll let you take my umbrella wherever you need to be.”

“What?” he looked down at her surprised.

“I’ll let you take my umbrella.”

He looked her over, his breath thick with the smell of whiskey. “Ok.”

They walked in silence, the only sound was the echo of the rain hitting the little sunny covering over them.

Once they approached her small apartment complex she stopped turning to him. His eyes lazily looking around, hands in his pockets giving him a very laid back look. She had no idea how he had gotten beaten up but it really didn’t seem to affect him much.

Holding her umbrella up she flashed him a slightly painful smile. Her mouth was so dry from this dumb cold.

“Here”

He leaned forward looking down at her, taking her in for a moment that same lazy smile on his lips that he had worn their whole walk back. His fingers wrapped themselves over hers for a moment, the cold steel of his chunky silver rings sending shivers down her already sensitive skin.

“Thank you love.'' His voice thick and smokey. Dangerously sexy, sending a shiver down her spine that wasn't from the cold.

“Good night.”

“Night”

And they parted. Him down the street disappearing into the stormy night and her into her complex to drug herself into a peaceful slumber.

Little did they know on that rainy night under a sunny umbrella that a new story was about to unfold. A moment that shifted in time changing the course of their lives forever.

--------

-GET TAGGED!-

Forever tag: @the-shadow-of-atlantis @coffee-randomness @0hmydeku @xx3fsxx @daisyboobear @jason-redhood @hello-i-lovespiderman-blr @pinkwitch21 @tomhncharliep @cdwmtjb8

Loki: @wayward-hell @winterssoldierrs

Story: @irwin-hood @hit-th3r0ck @cruel-kitten @boofrarti @i-miukimiuki @mmimagine-40 @mynameofuser @pia-1000 @angelgl16 @the-fifth-marauder03 @plutos-deamonchild @frenchfrostpudding @carydorse @neverleturheartshow2 @sebhiddleston @probsjosh @dracaryspowpow @andrea20967 @saiyanprincessswanie @olive-tini @albinotigerpython

#Loki x you #Loki smut #Demon!loki #Loki x reader #Loki x oc #Loki fanfic #my writing #Demon lord #Marvel Smut

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yellowcanna · 4 years ago

Text

Two Sides, Same Coin

Summary: Since the beginning of Quirks, Yokohama has announced independence from Japan and closed itself from the rest of the world.

To this day and age, no one knows what lies within the city of Yokohama—or that was what the public was made to believe. In reality, Yokohama has long fallen into the control of the world’s largest criminal organization known as the Port Mafia.

Follow Class 1-A as their principal organized a field trip to Yokohama! In their short trip there, they must change their perspectives and learn exactly what it means to be justice and what it means to be villains.

Rating: T

Genre: Crossover, hint of shounen-ai (boy love)

Pairing: Contains mild Soukoku (Dazai x Chuuya) and Shin Soukoku (Akutagawa x Atsushi) if you squint

Author: Canna / Yellow Canna

Available on AO3!!

┏━━━━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━━━━┓

◅ PREV MAIN NEXT ▻

┗━━━━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━━━━┛

CHAPTER 16

THE BEGINNING (NIGHT 3: TUESDAY)

This story has been beta'd by Momentary_Flight, Nanami_ontheShore, Shady Spades

“Jirou-chan…will be alright, won’t she?” Hagakure mumbled worriedly.

The three U.A students stood by the wall, nervously watching the doctor work on Jirou who was laid across the table. Her legs and arms were raised with random items they gathered to keep her limbs up so her blood flow would be concentrated around her torso.

Midoriya and Shouji didn’t answer Hagakure’s question. They couldn’t. The three of them just stared at Jirou, as if her eyes would suddenly pop open at any moment.

“Geeze, you people are acting as if she’s already dead,” the little blonde girl huffed with her hands on her hips, conceitedly looking up at the three older kids.

“Oh no! That’s not it…we’re just a bit worried!” Hagakure tried to explain, though no one could see what expression or gesture she was making.

They all had been so worried about Jirou that they had forgotten about the young girl!

“Um, my name is Midoriya Izuki!” Midoriya crouched down so that he was eye level with the petite girl. “You’re Elise-chan right? Thank you so much for saving us back there! You were very brave! Normal people wouldn’t be able to do that!”

The green-haired teenager had spoken with a voice filled with excitement accompanied with the brightest smile. However, the reaction he received was…different than he expected.

“…Did you hit your head?” The girl deadpanned, seeming to be disgusted by his behavior and even took a step back to keep a distance. “You’re more disgusting than Rintarou. Don’t come near me.”

Midoriya was completely petrified by the girl’s sharp words. Worst of all, he didn’t even know what he had done wrong! He couldn’t ask either, for the blonde had already walked away, going to the far side of the basement.

“Don’t worry about Elise-chan,” the doctor snickered, turning his head to look at the high schoolers. “She’s a little shy around strangers.”

“I’m not shy!” Elise hissed like a cat that had her tail stepped on.

“No, it’s alright!” Midoriya frantically waved his hands.

He watched the doctor turn back to Jirou. With the tension eased, Midoriya found his eyes wandering around the basement. It was a very empty basement. There wasn’t anything except the table, a couple of boxes and some old wooden chairs. Elise was sitting by one of the boxes and using a red crayon to draw over it.

“Hagakure-san, Shouji-san.” Midoriya turned back to his classmates. “Back then…when that person appeared, what did you see?”

“What do you mean?” Hagakure asked in confusion.

“The man that took Kyuusaku-kun. When we saw him…did you see anything else?”

“Umm…no?” Hagakure replied after some thought.

“Was there something we should have seen?” Shouji inquired.

Midoriya’s lips were pressed into a thin line as he remembered that gigantic tiger. It was just like he thought, Shouji and Hagakure hadn’t seen anything. He was the only one who could see…which meant there was something more to those goggles.

Or perhaps…the goggles weren’t meant to be used as a see-through tool in the first place?

Midoriya snuck a glance at the doctor. While the doctor himself was suspicious enough showing up in this kind of place, he was helping them and he had Elise with him. While Midoriya didn’t fully trust the doctor, he also had no reason to suspect him.

“I saw a white tiger,” Midoriya finally said. “When that man appeared, I saw a gigantic tiger. It was only after the goggles broke that I saw him.”

“A tiger?” Shouji’s brows arched up at the unexpected information.

“So…you’re saying that the goggles made you see a person as a tiger, Midoriya-kun?” Hagakure’s voice went a pitch higher upon realizing what could possibly have made her classmate see such things.

Midoriya nodded slowly. He recalled the form of that massive beast with claws that looked like it could easily tear apart a grown man.

“I believe that the goggles you’re talking about are Ability detectors,” the doctor suddenly spoke up.

Midoriya’s head snapped to the doctor, not expecting him to know anything and even if he did, wouldn’t have made any comment.

“Ability detector?” Shouji repeated the name.

“It’s a device that detects a person’s Ability,” the doctor explained while using a handkerchief to wipe his bloodied hand.

“That is the reason they are fighting up there.” He pointed towards the ceiling, turning around with a smile on his lips. “Those white cloaked men out there created these devices that can detect Ability users. The Port Mafia caught wind of it so they came to destroy them.”

“Why?” Hagakure asked.

“Simple. If this organization were to use their technology, then they will harvest many Ability users, even those that are newly born. That is something the Port Mafia cannot overlook,” the doctor replied.

“You know a lot about these things...” Shouji looked at the doctor suspiciously, then to the little girl who was still doodling on the box.

“You’d be surprised by how much information doctors can learn.” The raven-haired man carefully peeled his rubber gloves off, making sure his bloody fingertips didn't touch his skin. “Yokohama also has laws enforced by both the Special Ability Department and the Port Mafia banning any technology targeting Abilities.”

“Special Ability Department…” Midoriya remembered that Kunikida had mentioned this name before as well.

“You can come up now.” The doctor tossed his rubber gloves onto the floor and stepped aside.

At the news that the operation was done, the three U.A students all but ran up to the table.

“Jirou-chan!” From the hand print on Jirou’s arms, Hagakure was gripping onto her friend while calling out her name over and over. Unfortunately, Jirou didn’t show any sort of reaction.

Her skin was deathly pale and her lips a dark purplish hue. Her eyelashes didn’t even flutter in the slightest movement. If they didn’t know any better, they would all think she had died.

“Judging from her injury, the bullet that went through her body was about 11 mm and has damaged the inferior vena cava. I’ve cauterized the injury, but that is as much as I can do.”

“Inferior…vena cava?” Hagakure struggled to repeat the name.

“Oh? You don’t know?” The man looked at them in mild surprise. “Do they not teach you in your Hero school?”

They all shook their heads, not even surprised anymore that this man could tell they were Heroes considering how many times their covers got blown already. Right now, they just want to know if their friend was alright.

“It’s the largest vein of the human body.” The doctor pointed over Jirou’s wound. “In simpler terms, this vein’s function is to carry blood from the lower body to the right atrium of the heart. If you cut this vein, it will trigger a massive blood loss that can kill a person in a matter of minutes. Fortunately, your friend’s vein was only grazed and because you have been holding her with her legs up, you managed to keep the blood flow around her heart. She wouldn’t have lasted this long if you hadn’t.”

“Then...!”

“She will be fine.” The doctor assured Shouji whose shoulder sagged in relief.

“That’s great…!” Midoriya fell onto his knees, the tension that had been keeping him on his feet finally disappeared. “Thank you so much! Thank you!”

“Yes! Thank you so much!” Hagakure hiccupped.

“We can’t thank you enough!” Shouji bowed.

The doctor just smiled, saying nothing as he checked his wristwatch.

“The people from the Armed Detective Agency should be arriving to pick you up soon. What do you say we talk a bit until then?”

“How do you know we’re from the Armed Detective Agency?” Midoriya questioned, his muscles tensing in anticipation in case the man turned out to be an enemy.

“Oh? It seems you don’t remember me.” From his coat pocket, the doctor pulled out a piece of crumbly paper. The paper was filled with scribbles drawn in yellow and blue crayons. When the man flipped the paper around, all three of them saw the familiar flyer they were handing out just this morning.

“You were the one who gave this to me on the street, young man.” The man waved the piece of paper in front of the green-haired youth.

“I-I did?!” Midoriya spluttered, voice cracking from how high pitched it had become. Never would he have expected that response. “I’m so sorry, I...I didn’t remember!” While apologizing, he tried to think back to this morning, but there were too many people passing by that he couldn’t remember every single person who took a flyer.

“It’s quite alright,” the doctor chuckled. At this, the little blonde girl came over and stared at him in disdain.

“You’re still keeping that, Rintarou?” She eyed the crumbled paper with her hands on her hips.

“Of course! It’s Elise-chan’s lovely drawing! How could I ever throw it away?!” The doctor swooned, not even hiding the fact that he had been using the flyer as scrap paper for the girl to draw on.

“But…how did you contact them?” Shouji asked. After all, they didn’t see the doctor pull out any device and even if he did, would his device even work?

“I was accompanied by my subordinate when we stumbled across you, so I sent him to find help,” the doctor replied. “I believe I haven’t introduced myself. I am Mori Ougai. This is my daughter Elise-chan.”

“I-I’m Midoriya Izuku! Sorry for not introducing ourselves before!” Midoriya stammered and hastily gave the man his own introduction.

“I’m Shouji Mezou, thank you again for helping Jirou-san.”

“I am Hagakure Tooru! Thank you so much, Mori-san!”

“It’s always nice to meet young, aspiring Heroes,” the older man commented. “Though I must say, I didn’t expect to meet so many Heroes so soon, especially after coming back to Yokohama.”

“Were you in Japan before?” Hagakure wondered curiously.

“I may not look like it, but I once managed a pretty large company,” the doctor boasted. “Though I’ve retired and was traveling around the world with Elise-chan for the past three years. In the end, we find ourselves returning to this city.”

“Do you…like Yokohama?” Midoriya couldn’t help but ask. He didn’t know why, but he just wanted to know the answer, especially after everything he had witnessed in that fight.

“I do,” Mori replied without second thought.

Midoriya was a little taken back. It wasn’t as if he was expecting the man to hate the place he was from, only that he hadn’t expected such a fast and certain response without even the smallest shadow of doubt.

“Mori-san…you mentioned that Yokohama bans technologies regarding Abilities. Why is that?”

“If people were allowed to research Abilities, what do you think would happen?” The doctor questioned back.

“Ability users won’t have freedom anymore and there will be more bloodshed to capture them.” Midoriya said after some thought. This was the only answer he could come up with, linking back to what the man had told them about those Ability detectors.

Mori chuckled, seeming to find something the boy said amusing. “If Abilities are allowed to be researched, then Abilities could one day be mass produced.”

“Is that possible?” Shouji couldn’t believe it. After all, these were powers, not solid products that could be made in factories. Even Quirks don’t have something like mass production.

“Well, it is simply a speculation,” the doctor shrugged.

“So it’s to protect everyone?”

“Protect?” Mori’s smile turned sharp for a split second before going back to normal. It happened so fast that none of the kids were able to see it. “Well, it certainly is for protection, but it is more of a necessity for the future of this city.”

“The…future?” Midoriya thought over the doctor’s words. “So you’re saying that if Abilities could be mass produced, then all the Old Humans will become Ability users...then Yokohama will become no different than our world…!”

“You catch on fast, young man.” Mori complimented. “If every single human within this barrier gained Abilities, then this city would fall into chaos. Unlike Quirks, Abilities are dangerous because their possibilities are limitless. You can even pull a god into the body of a human vessel.”

Creeeak

Everyone froze at the sudden sound. The three kids turned towards the source, which was coming from the other side of the door. It was at this moment that they realized how quiet it has gotten.

There were no more sounds of destruction going on outside…just an unusual silence.

Within that silence, they could hear something coming towards them from beyond the door. Midoriya didn’t know how to describe the sound. It sounded like something was constantly being crushed and grinded into pieces. It was a sound that sent a weird chill down his back.

With their training kicking back in, Midoriya, Hagakure and Shouji moved to stand in front of Mori and his daughter. They braced themselves as the sound came closer and closer.

Midoriya only saw a flicker of something moving through the door. He didn’t know what it was, as it was too fast for his eyes to follow. For a moment, he thought he was hallucinating but the next second, the door fell apart into tiny pieces—revealing a man in a black trench coat with black hair that was white at the tip.

The man’s hands were tucked in his coat’s pocket as he walked over the remains of the door, causing the wood to break apart under his feet.

Midoirya knew without a shadow of doubt that this man was an Ability user. It was the only explanation for how the door fell apart like this. But what power was it? With his hands in his pockets, it couldn’t be something that required his hands.

He tightened his fists and brought them up—only to be shoved aside when the middle-aged doctor’s body collided against him.

“Ah, Akutagawa-kun.” Mori walked up to the man with his hand also tucked in his pocket.

At the sight of the doctor, the man known as Akutagawa pulled his hands out, folding them behind his back and bowed.

“It has been a while,” the man spoke in an aloof tone.

“Indeed it has!” Mori nodded before looking back at the students. “Shall we go then?”

“Uh…go where?” Hagakure looked around—not that anyone could see her doing it.

“Out of here, of course,” the man answered. “Your agency members should be arriving soon. Akutagawa-kun, have you seen them?”

“No,” the man responded curtly, not providing any additional information.

“Well, I’m sure they’re on their way.” The doctor wasn’t the slightest bit bothered by the other’s lack of social skills.

He turned to Shouji and said, “Would you mind carrying your friend? And do keep her legs and arms up.”

“Should we be moving her?” Shouji asked worriedly. After all, Jirou’s condition did not look good. Even if her wound had stopped bleeding, it didn’t change the fact that she lost a lot of blood.

“Of course,” The doctor waved absentmindedly before turning to his daughter. Immediately, his entire demeanor changed and he called her out in the sweetest voice he could muster. “Come now, Elise-chan! It’s time to go!”

“I’m not done drawing yet!”

“But Elise-chan, don’t you want to change out of your wet clothes?”

“…Fine!” The girl tossed her crayon aside, clapping her hands from the filth before walking back over to her father.

“Let’s go then, Elise-chan!”

“Ah—” Midoriya wanted to call out to them, but the doctor and the girl were already making their way up the staircase.

The black coated man just stood to the side like a statue, making no move to leave.

“What do we do?” Hagakure whispered, trying to avoid letting the strange man overhear her.

“Let’s follow and see…” Midoriya swallowed, feeling those steel gray eyes lock onto him. It must be his imagination, right?

Very carefully, Midoriya and Hagakure moved Jirou into Shouji’s arms, holding her legs and arms up as instructed.

They were cautious around the man, but the other didn’t seem to care for them at all. They slowly walked around him, ignoring the way those sharp eyes followed them as they moved. When they emerged from the basement, all they saw was the ruin of what used to be a house. The house they went into was gone and in its place was nothing but piles of debris. The only place that was clear was the stairwell leading towards the basement.

“Hm…the air after a shower is quite refreshing,” Mori commented, gazing up to the sky to see the parting clouds.

Midoriya looked around at the destruction, taking note of how awfully quiet it was. Or perhaps the night was supposed to be this quiet, he just forgot.

There was no more screaming, no more gunfire, no more lightning, and no more rain.

Just…peacefulness, as if everything that happened was but a dream.

Within the silence, they could all easily hear the roaring sound of an engine coming from the distance. The three U.A students looked down the street to see a car driving towards them. It was a very plain and ordinary silver car, but the speed at which the vehicle was coming at them was anything but ordinary.

Hagakure let out a scream as the kids frantically moved back just as the car spun, making a one-eighty and came to a screeching stop in front of them.

With a light click, the door facing them—the passenger door—opened.

Midoriya, Hagakure and Shouji finally showed relief on their faces at the sight of the Armed Detective Agency President, Fukuzawa Yukichi.

Another sound of the door opening came from the other side of the car, but this one wasn’t as gentle. Yosano Akiko climbed out of the driver seat and slammed the door so hard that the entire car shook.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Mori-sensei.” Malice was practically dripping from her voice as she walked around the car, her red heels clicking against the cement road. Her eyes were wide with a grin on her face, making her look as if she had suddenly gone insane.

The woman’s behavior shocked the three teenagers.

In that moment, Midoriya was reminded of the first time when he had to engage with Villains back in the U.S.J. He was getting the same vibe as back then…except this one was stronger and more suffocating.

“Ah, Yosano-kun,” Mori smiled at the woman as if he couldn’t see the menacing way she looked at him. And just like that, he dismissed her and shifted his gaze to Fukuzawa. “Fukuzawa-dono. It has certainly been a while, hasn’t it?”

“So it has, Mori-sensei,” Fukuzawa said before looking over to the four children, eyes lingering on Jirou’s limp form a tad longer than the rest. “Yosano-kun.”

“Yeah,” Yosano walked over to Jirou with a small frown on her face and her gaze turning serious and losing that crazed look.

“Um…” Hagakure wanted to explain, but Yosano reached out, grabbing the make-shift bandage around Jirou’s abdomen and ripped it off.

“Be careful!” Midoriya couldn’t help but shouted out at how rough the woman’s action was.

Yosano ignored them, observing Jirou’s face that didn’t even twitch at her action. She pressed two fingers into the side of the girl’s neck and her frown immediately deepened.

“For someone who is no longer part of the Port Mafia, you sure are engaged in their affairs.”

“The Port Mafia…?” Midoriya’s head immediately snapped towards the doctor. This man used to be part of the Port Mafia?!

So he was...a criminal?!

“What can I say?” Mori shrugged. “My successor has no respect towards the word retired.”

He tucked his hands back into his lab coat pocket and looked towards the four children. “But retired or not, it’s part of my duty to ensure we uphold our end of the deals.”

“Ability,” Midoriya’s attention was brought back to Yosano whose hand hovered over Jirou. “Thou Shall Not Die.”

Purple rings made up with small characters appeared and circled around Jirou’s body. The three children saw purple light shrouded Jirou’s entire body before bursting apart into tiny particles, fading away.

The moment the light was gone, Midoriya instantly noticed the change in Jirou’s body. The first was the missing hole in her stomach. The bullet wound was gone without leaving any traces of scars. And the second more noticeable thing was the healthy colour in Jirou’s skin. No longer was she deathly pale, and her purplish lips had also become red again!

“What…!” Shouji almost choked when Jirou moved. They watched as Jirou groaned, eyelashes fluttering a couple of times before her eyelids began to peel back, revealing black irises.

“Jirou-chan!” Everyone could hear the tearful cry in Hagakure’s voice. The invisible girl jumped onto Jirou, causing Shouji to stumble back, but somehow maintain his balance.

“H-Hagakure?!” Jirou nearly jumped at suddenly being pounced on. Then she looked around, noticing the unfamiliar area they were in.

“What happened?” As soon as she spoke, she sucked in a sharp breath as the memories before she passed out flickered by. Her hand instantly flew to her stomach, but she didn’t feel the wound that was supposed to be there.

“Jirou-san, are you ok?” Shouji watched Jiro pat her own stomach, the confusion on her face turning into surprise.

“Jirou-san, do you feel pain anywhere?” Midoriya added.

“No…” Jirou slowly shook her head while eyeing her stomach. “It doesn’t hurt…wasn’t I shot?”

“You were!” Hagakure cried while shaking Jirou back and forth. “We were so worried! I thought you would die!”

“Well then, it’s time for us to take our leave, isn’t that right, Elise-chan?”

“Eh?” Midoriya quickly turned around to see the doctor holding out his hand for his daughter to take. “Please wait!”

He hurried over to the doctor, but stopped just a couple steps away, maintaining some distance between them.

“You were…part of the Port Mafia?”

Mori didn’t answer his question. Instead, the man reached into his pocket and flicked something towards the teen. The boy’s first instinct was to dodge, but when he saw what it was, he reached out and caught a small white card.

“Give that to Toshinori Yagi-san for me, would you?”

“Toshinori?”

“Who’s that?

Shouji, Hagakure and Jirou looked to one another, none of them familiar with that name.

“That’s right, you know him better as All Might, don’t you?”

“Eh?! You know All Might!?” Hagakure exclaimed in surprise.

Mori only smiled at her. Together with Elise, they walked away, casually strolling down the quiet street that was once filled with violence and bloodshed.

“Let’s go,” Fukuzawa told them as he too turned to leave. He walked back to the silver car and climbed onto the passenger seat.

The four kids followed and cramped themselves in the back while Yosano took the wheel.

“Buckle up now,” she told them with a smile. That was the only warning they got before she stepped down on the gas pedal—hard.

They couldn’t help but let out a terrified scream with how the car sped down the road so fast that the wheels were lifting from the ground.

“We’re gonna crash!!” Hagakure screamed when she saw how the car was heading towards a building.

Yosano didn’t slow down. If anything, she sped up even more and with a turn of the wheel, the car nearly flipped over as it made a sharp turn.

Fukuzawa sat there calmly with his arms crossed and eyes closed, seeming to be asleep while the screams of bloody murder constantly echoed from the back.

Shouji, Jirou and Hagakure were practically thrown to the side from the force of the turn while Midoriya clenched onto the door beside him for his dear life. It was also at that moment that he looked out the car window to see the night sky that was now clear of clouds.

His eyes were almost immediately drawn to the large full moon behind what looked to be a clock tower. On that clock tower, Midoriya saw two black figures standing on the roof. He couldn’t exactly make out their forms as the moon had casted a dark silhouette over them, but Midoriya could see the pair of gold and silver eyes looking back to meet his own.

Before he could get a better look, the car slammed back down and Midoriya knocked his chin against the car door. By the time he collected himself and looked back out, the clock tower was blocked by the rows of buildings.

The car sped through the street, going straight down the road until they came bursting out of the neighborhood the four teens had been trapped within for so long. They had gotten out so easily that they almost couldn’t believe it.

It was only when they began to see other cars and people that the vehicle slowed down, driving at a perfectly normal speed to blend in with the other cars.

Nobody spoke during the ride back to the Armed Detective Agency. They just stared at the bright light surrounding the street and the happy people walking about. It was almost as if they had come to a completely different world.

Midoriya saw a family of three walking out from a toy store with a boy hugging a robot toy. Seeing the little boy reminded him of Kyuusaku. He wondered where the child was at the moment, and whether or not they were safe.

When they arrived at the Armed Detective Agency building, they were greeted by all of their classmates who were outside waiting for them.

Aizawa and Toshinori were there as well, accompanied by the young blond boy called Kenji.

“Is everyone ok?!” Iida was the first to shout and rushed up to them with the rest of their classmates.

“It’s great that you guys came back!” Yaoyorozu’s shoulders sagged in relief.

“What happened? Did you guys get into any fights?!” Kirishima queried worriedly.

“Well…” Midoriya began, but was cut short when Fukuzawa spoke up.

“Let’s talk inside.”

All the children quiet down, as they all knew how much trouble they were in.

Thankfully, the atmosphere was brightened a little when Kenji bounced to the door. “Right this way please!” He sang in such a happy voice that it made them relaxed just a little.

Aizawa and Toshinori trailed after the kids, neither of them speaking a word. When they arrived at the Armed Detective Agency office, they were greeted by Kunikida who was waiting for them at the doorway.

“Come in and take a seat,” the blond told them, motioning to the chairs set up inside. There were twenty in total. The kids obeyed, taking a seat while the adults stood.

“I would like an explanation,” Aizawa was the first to speak up after they all settled down. At first, the students thought their homeroom teacher was talking to them, but Aizawa’s eyes were fixed on the members of the Armed Detective Agency and their President.

“What do you mean?” Kunikida glanced at the raven-haired teacher.

“You know what I mean,” Aizawa narrowed his eyes. “Why were my students put into danger? Why wasn’t there someone looking after them?”

“Your students are all sixteen,” the blond-haired man pointed out. “They should have been fully capable of looking after themselves. The only reason we had someone looking after them on the first day was to make sure they obeyed the rules of Yokohama. After the first warning, I didn’t think it was necessary to continue monitoring them.”

“That’s—”

“First,” the President cut in, “why don’t we have the students tell us what happened?”

In the end, Iida was the one who retold the story of how they got themselves into the situation…including how it was Kaminari and Mineta who got the location of the nightclub. After that, Midoriya took over in explaining the events of what happened after separating from the large group to chase after Kyuusaku.

The adults listened quietly without any interruptions. It was only when Midoriya mentioned Jirou getting shot that the class as well as their teachers retracted.

“Jirou-san, you were shot?!” Yaoyorozu shot up from her seat in alarm.

“Ah, I’m fine now, look,” Jirou lifted her shirt for everyone to see. “There’s not even a scar!”

Although Midoriya saw it happen with his own eyes, he couldn’t help but gawk at Jirou’s stomach again. Never in his entire life has he heard of any Quirk which could heal someone flawlessly like that. Jirou was not only shot, but she had also suffered heavy blood loss. She wasn’t even conscious, yet with just a wave of Yosano’s hand she woke up absolutely fine.

Rather than calling it healing, it was more like time had rewound on her body—returning her back to when she was in perfect condition.

“Let me see,” Aizawa pushed aside the kids and made his way over with Toshinori. The two teachers inspected the wound, but no matter how hard they looked, they couldn’t figure out just where the girl had been shot.

“What happened?” Aizawa questioned with a frown on his face.

“Yosano-san healed Jirou-chan,” Hagakure replied.

Aizawa glanced back to Yosano who met his gaze with a smirk.

“Let’s hear the rest. What happened afterward?” Kunikida looked back to Midoriya.

“Ah, yes!” Midoriya picked up from where he got interrupted. “After Jirou-san was shot, we ran into the alleyway and…”

Midoriya trailed off when the image of that woman’s head and her face flickered through his mind. It was an image he had tried hard not to think about, but now that they were safe, he involuntarily remembered it.

The woman’s dead gaze, the temperature of her head and the texture of her hair…

He couldn’t stop the sudden nausea in his stomach. He bent over and gagged, but there was nothing more his stomach could throw out.

“Deku-kun!”

“Midoriya!”

“Midoriya-kun!”

“Get back, he needs air,” Aizawa ordered, stopping the others from getting close.

“Young Midoriya, are you alright?” Toshinori rushed to his side almost immediately and crouched down next to him.

“Y-yeah…” Midoriya blinked away the tears that had come out while gasping for air. “Sorry, I—”

“It’s fine,” Aizawa told him before turning to Shouji. “Shouji, continue for Midoriya.”

“Yes…” Shouji nodded, knowing full well what had made Midoriya react in such a way. He finished telling everyone the story, including their meeting with the doctor who turned out to be a former member of the Port Mafia.

“That’s right!” Midoriya remembered the card pulled it out from his pocket. “That man, Mori-san wanted me to hand this to you, All Might.”

“To me?” Toshinori accepted the card from his pupil. He looked down and realized that this was a simple looking business card with the name of a clinic. He flipped the card around and saw the address of the clinic on the back with words written on the space below in fine black ink.

Wednesday 12:00 pm

“An acquaintance of yours?” Aizawa asked, looking down at the card as well.

“I’m not sure…” Toshinori replied unsurely. He racked his brains, but he couldn’t think of any Mori he may know of.

“He seemed to know you, All Might,” Hagakure added helpfully. That only made Toshinori��s brows furrow even more.

Unable to think of anyone, he decided to think about it later and tucked the business card into his own pocket.

“I think you owe us some explanation.” Aizawa had turned his attention back to the members of the Armed Detective Agency. “It’s too much of a coincidence that my students would head to the nightclub in an unpopulated area and get caught up in a war.”

“You’re right, it was no coincidence,” the President answered, looking back at the teacher calmly. “But we were not the ones who have set your students up.”

“But you knew it would happen.” Aizawa stated with full certainty.

Fukuzawa said nothing to deny it.

“If I may, your students are partly at fault for being so easily led by the Port Mafia,” Kunikida cut in. “Going to the night club is one thing, but if they hadn’t insisted on following some kid, they could still come back without getting caught up in the battle.”

“But Kyuusaku-chan was—”

“Look,” Kunikida sighed, holding up a hand to stop the invisible girl. He seemed tired of constantly repeating himself. “I will say it one more time, do you really think any ordinary kid would show up in that kind of place late in the night? Especially now, after knowing there was a battle so close by?”

“But we can’t just—” Iida wanted to argue, but Kunikida was already done.

The blond knew by now that no matter what he said, these Heroes wouldn’t understand. They simply don’t know the danger children could bring—especially if they were Ability users.

“Even if your students didn’t go to the nightclub and if the Port Mafia wished them to be involved, then there was no way to avoid it.” Fukuzawa said, pulling the blame off the students and onto the Port Mafia.

“You told us that as long as the children don’t use their Quirks, they won’t be in danger.” Toshinori said. “But they got involved in a battle and one of them was shot.”

“Are they in danger now, then?” Kunikida made his point by glancing over to Jirou.

“You know that’s not what we meant,” Aizawa snapped. “This wasn’t what was promised when we made the deal and came to Yokohama.”

“No, your deal is correct,” Fukuzawa replied. “But your deal was not with us.”

“What do you mean?” Toshinori didn’t know why, but he was starting to feel like the mystery was slowly starting to piece together, like he was reaching the answer of something, but just hasn’t grasped it yet.

“We, the Armed Detective Agency, were not the one who made the agreement with U.A to allow you into Yokohama.” Fukuzawa explained. “We were simply requested to take you in and have your students learn from us.”

“What…?” The two teachers’ eyes widened.

Their agreement wasn’t with the Armed Detective Agency?

Wasn’t Nezu’s old friend someone from the Armed Detective Agency? Aizawa and Toshinori even assumed that Fukuzawa was Nezu’s old friend, given the other’s age. While Nedzu didn’t make it clear, he also seemed to think his old friend was someone in the Armed Detective Agency.

“Who made this arrangement?” Aizawa hurriedly asked.

“The boss of the Port Mafia,” Kunikida replied. “He was the one who called us and had us take you in.”

“What?” Toshinori almost couldn’t believe his own ears. They all assumed it was the Armed Detective Agency that struck a deal with the Port Mafia…but it was the other way around?

“What is it? What’s going on?” Kirishima looked around, not following the conversation at all.

“Just shut the hell up,” Bakugou growled beside him.

“I know you have many questions, but we are not the ones who can provide you with answers,” Fukuzawa said. “The Armed Detective Agency merely took you in due to a favour I owe to the Port Mafia.”

“And what is this favour do you owe them that would make you take in twenty kids from a Hero school?” Aizawa didn’t like the sound of where this was going.

“A month back, the Armed Detective Agency and the Port Mafia were both attacked by an organization known as the Rats in the House of the Dead,” Kunikida explained. “The mastermind behind the organization is an Ability user from Russia. Both the President and an Executive who is the second-hand of the Port Mafia boss were hit by a cannibalizing Ability.”

“Cannibalizing?” Uraraka paled just hearing the name.

“As in…that cannibalizing?!” Aoyama squeaked.

“Is there any other meaning for cannibalizing?” Sero whispered helpfully.

“It is a viral Ability that contains minuscule supernatural lifeforms that grow into maturity in forty-eight hours and eat through the hosts’ bodies. There are only two ways to stop this Ability,” Yosano took over the conversation and held up a finger. “The first is that if one of the two hosts dies, the Ability will disappear.”

She then held up another finger.

“The second is to find the Ability user and make them cancel their Ability.”

“I want to hear your opinions as the future Heroes of the outside world.” Fukuzawa said seriously, looking at the children. “If the leader of the League of Villain, Shigaraki Tomura and Aizawa-san were infected by such an Ability, what would you do?”

“Of course we find the mastermind and beat the crap outta them!” Bagkuou roared, smacking his right fist into his left palm.

“Yeah! We’ll just find the guy and stop that Ability!” Kirishima shouted, pumping a fist into the air.

“There’s forty-eight hours! There’s plenty of time for us to find them!” Sero added.

Midoriya nodded in agreement with Todoroki.

The rest of the class more or less gave the same response, all of them agreeing to find the mastermind instead of going for the head of the other host.

“Is that so?” Fukuzawa muttered quietly, not even surprised by the children’s response.

“Is that not what the Armed Detective Agency did?” Iida asked, not noticing how the looks in Armed Detective Agency members’ eyes had changed.

“We chose to kill the Port Mafia Executive.” Yosano stated bluntly, startling all of the children.

“W…what?” Midoirya choked out, unable to believe what he heard.

They chose to kill the other?

Why?

That didn’t make any sense,

They can understand if the Port Mafia came to kill the Armed Detective Agency President, but for them to target the Port Mafia Executive? Certainly the other may be a criminal, but to kill them just so the other could survive?

And wouldn’t that just be playing into the mastermind’s hand?

“I will tell you the real reason why you were sent to us,” Fukuzawa suddenly announced.

“Why did you decide to explain all of a sudden?” Aizawa eyed the man skeptically.

“Because I’ve decided to allow your students to observe us for the remainder of your stay within Yokohama.”

“So you were never planning on letting us stay long,” Toshinori muttered. He wasn’t surprised. Since the first time he met the President, he has noticed how aloof the other was. Despite having so many additional people within his agency, he never showed up again until tonight.

“I hold no ill will towards you or your students,” Fukuzawa began. “Even if it’s to repay the Port Mafia, I do not want to let innocent people that have nothing to do with Yokohama get involved in Yokohama’s affair.”

“What changed?”

Fukuzawa didn’t answer. Instead, he turned to their Agency’s physician. “Yosano-kun.”

“My Ability is called Thou Shall Not Die,” Yosano started with a wave of her hand. “My Ability allows me to heal any injuries without any exceptions.”

“Any?!” Ashido gasped.

“Any,” Yosano repeated with a devilish smirk. “Even if you were to have your arms and legs chopped off, or had your organs ripped out...as long as you have a breath left in you, I can fully heal you.”

She paused to let the information sink into the Heroes who were all gawking at her in shock. Such power was unheard of. Just thinking how many people she could save if her power was to be used in their world…!

It wasn’t just the kids who were overwhelmed by the news.

Even Aizawa and Toshinori were caught off guard by the revelation of such a huge secret. As long as Yosano stood, there won’t ever be a single death around her. This was a power that people around the world could only ever dream of because such a convenient power did not exist—or so they thought.

“The condition to use my power isn’t as simple as you think,” Yosano told them. “To activate my power, my patient must be in critical condition. In other words, if I want to heal a minor wound, I have to half kill my patients first.”

“But you’ll be able to heal them back? That’s amazing!!” Ashido blurted out with sparkling eyes.

“Wait…then back then, when Jirou-chan’s…!” Hagakure’s voice trailed off as everyone looked towards Jirou.

The raven-haired girl blinked, feeling a bit self-conscious with all the eyes on her as she turned to Yosano. “So, uh, I almost died?” She absentmindedly rubbed a hand over where she remembered she was shot in.

“Are you familiar with Hypovolemic Shock?” Yosano asked, though she didn’t wait for any response and continued on. “You lost over half of your body’s blood. The lack of oxygen circulating in your body has already begun to destroy your cells. By the time I arrived, you were already in a coma.”

“Eh?” Midoriya’s eyes widened as he recalled how Jirou wouldn’t wake up no matter how Hagakure called her. He knew she had passed out from blood lost, but a coma?

“That’s why that man appeared…it was to save Jirou-san until Yosano-san could get to us,” Shouji muttered.

“Yosano-san…your power also allows you to bring back someone from a coma?” Yaoyorozu inquired.

Yosano ignored the ponytailed girl and continued to focus on Jirou, as if she was trying to capture the slightest movement she would make.

“I see, so that’s what happened…” Jirou looked up to Yosano and smiled. “Thank you for saving me, Yosano-san.”

Yosano’s eyes widened lightly, but she swiftly recovered herself and let out a small snort “Aren’t you a good girl?”

“Eh?”

“No, it’s nothing.” Yosano waved and walked back to stand next to Fukuzawa.

“Well then, do you now understand why the Port Mafia sent you to us?” Kunikida observed the kids, then to the two teachers whose eyes were fixed on Yosano. It seemed that the two pro Heroes had already realized the situation they were in.

“I see!” Midoriya gasped as he jumped out of his seat, startling Ojiro and Sero sitting beside him. “It all makes sense now!”

“What? What makes sense?” Kirishima asked, looking around to see if anyone got what Midoriya was getting.

“Are you a moron?” Bakugou snapped before his crimson eyes shifted back to Yosano.

“Remember what they fucking said? As long as we don’t use Quirks, we’ll be safe. But ear jacks over there got injured even though she didn’t do a damn thing!”

“I see…so that’s it!” Iida gasped while Yaoyorozu seemed to have gone into deep thoughts.

“Uh…what does that mean?” Uraraka asked while sheepishly scratching the back of her head.

“It means that even if we don’t use our Quirks, we could be in dangerous situations and even get hurt, but as long as we don’t use our Quirks, the Port Mafia can’t let us die. They will have to protect us until Yosano-san comes to heal us! This is what they meant by us being safe!”

“It also fucking means that these Mafia shits got plans to put us in danger just like tonight, isn’t that right?!” Bakugou smirked widely at Kunikida.

“And if we use our Quirks in those dangerous situations, the Port Mafia will kill us,” Midoriya finished, hand moving up to touch his neck.

“Yes…” Kunikida adjusted his glasses. “Precisely.”

◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥

“There’s another one alive! Hurry and bring the stretcher!”

Bang

The echoing sound of gunfire resounded in the air as a man in a black suit stepped away from the body of a white cloaked man.

“Enemy survivors discovered in block C. They’ve been terminated,” the black suited man reported to his earpiece before continuing to check the bodies littered over the street, searching for anyone alive amongst the corpses.

“So these two are the Ability users from Mockingbird?” Higuchi Ichiyou walked up to two white cloaked men lying on the ground, bound in thick chains.

“Yes,” one of the men guarding the enemy replied. “The one on the left is the electricity Ability user and the other is the one creating the miasma.”

“How many sedatives were injected?”

“Four. It should be enough to keep them down for an entire day.”

Higuchi nodded just as a black van drove up to them. “Move them into the vehicle with caution. It’s possible that they still have comrades around.”

“I believe there is no need to worry about that.” an elderly voice cut in.

Higuchi turned around to see the Commander of the Black Lizard making his way over to them. At the sight of the man, the other Port Mafia grunts immediately tucked their hands behind their backs and bowed towards him.

“Hirotsu-san,” the blond-haired woman was slightly surprised by the sight of the old man. “Welcome back from your break.”

“It seems I have returned at the right time,” Hirotsu commented, looking over at the two bounded Ability users. “No, or perhaps this was all within his calculation…”

“Hirotsu-san?” Higuchi blinked, not catching what the man had just said.

“Who are these gentlemen, Higuchi-kun?”

“They are the leaders of the organization Mockingbird.” Higuchi replied. “A couple days ago, we received word that this organization created devices that allow you to detect Ability users.”

“Ho?” Hirotsu arched his brow with great interest. “That’s quite the achievement. What about the data?”

“Akutagawa-senpai should be—” Before the woman could even finish, there was a huge explosion in the distance. She turned around and saw black smoke towering into the night sky.

“It seems that they have been successfully destroyed,” Hirotsu chuckled. “But to go against the Port Mafia’s rule and secretly develop such technology…either they were confident in their strength, or there is a third party involved.”

“Yes…we’re still investigating that matter. Fortunately, it’s only a prototype with limited functions. At the moment, we’re disposing every single device—”

Another explosion sounded at that moment. This time it was from the complete opposite direction of the first one.

Hirotsu gave one glance to the second explosion before he smiled. “There really is no place like home.”

“So Hirotsu-san, did you come here for something?” Higuchi asked, glancing down at the case in his hand.

“Yes,” Hirotsu looked down the street to see a dark figure walking towards them. At the sight of the man, all the men and women in black suits around once more had to stop whatever they were doing and bow.

Within the silence, everyone could hear the light coughs the man was trying to suppress.

“Akutagawa-sama,” Hirotsu bowed lightly at the sight of the young man. “A splendid job as always.”

“I wasn’t the one leading the operation tonight.” Akutagawa replied coldly before his eyes fell to the briefcase in the elder’s hand.

“I see,” Hirotsu bowed again. “Then I shall pay my respects to Atsushi-sama in a bit.”

He unlocked the briefcase and held it up, presenting it to the younger man. “The boss has ordered me to deliver this to you, Akutagawa-sama.”

“These are… blood?” Higuchi furrowed her brows as she tried to figure out what was inside. She has never seen any drug as red as this before.

“These are drugs made from a Quirk user in the outside world with the purpose of permanently erasing one’s Quirk,” Hirotsu explained. “The boss wants you to test them on Ability users to see if it will affect Abilities the same way.”

Akutagawa pulled out one of the syringes, looking at the crimson fluid inside before his gaze shifted to the two Mockingbird Ability users.

◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥

Yosano looked out the window, watching the U.A students and their teachers walk down the peaceful sidewalk and head back towards their dormitory.

She could still remember how excited the kids looked upon hearing her Ability. Even after they found out the real reason, they looked more relaxed rather than fearful, including the two teachers.

This made the woman frown.

To those people, instant recovery to their top form was like a dream in their fight against Villains. Heroes fight with a clear goal in mind—to save people and defeat the Villains. It was thanks to this simple, clear and reachable goal that they were able to fight.

But would they be able to fight in a war where the people on the other side were no different than them? Would they be able to withstand constantly being recovered and thrown back out into the battlefield, over and over until their mentally broke apart?

“Heroes are such a carefree bunch, aren’t they?” She looked back to see Kunikida and Kenji stacking the chairs away.

“…It can’t be helped. Our cultures are just too different for them to understand with words.” Kunikida sighed. “I can understand the President’s decision to let them stay.”

“Yeah,” Yosano agreed. She had been against the whole idea the moment she found out what the Port Mafia wanted her to do. However, that all changed after tonight—especially after hearing such naïve answers…

She clicked her teeth in annoyance because she knew that this whole mess was targeted at them, the Agency members. Sure the U.A students were targeted too, but the event that played out tonight was for those kids to experience and them to witness.

The Port Mafia boss knew they were going to turn these outsiders away, so they made a show tonight to convince them.

“It’s just like Ranpo-san said, isn’t it?” Kenji said cheerfully, not reading the heavy atmosphere.

Kunikida sighed, unable to argue with that. He hadn’t doubted Ranpo. The genius detective was never wrong, after all, but to think the Port Mafia would use such methods to get them to accept these children…

“Though come to think of it, who is this Kyuusaku they spoke of?” Kenji asked while tapping a finger to his chin.

“…I’m bothered by that as well.” Yosano crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against one of the office desks. She had never heard of that name before, but if those Hero students were right, then the one who picked the kid up was none other than the White Reaper of the Port Mafia.

Kuinkida paused in his cleaning up to ponder over that name as well. He had been concerned over this mysterious child ever since he first heard of them over the phone call. That was why he wanted those kids to ignore them and come back. In hindsight, he probably should have seen it coming given these Hero’s unusual sense of justice…but he hadn’t expected them to be bold enough to do that in an unknown territory.

Now that he knew that this kid was also part of the Port Mafia, he was even more wary. There were only two reasons the Port Mafia would have children in their ranks. Either that child was some sort of prodigy, or they were an Ability user.

Kunikida didn’t need to be Ranpo to figure out the answer. From how the kids described the child, they weren’t right in the head. If his assumption was correct, they would have attacked the students had the White Reaper not stepped in.

The thought of the whole mess tonight made Kunikida’s head hurt all over again.

“Really…” Kunikida grumbled while using his fingers to rub out the crease forming between his brows. “First the Selection war and now this…just what is that man planning?”

┏━━━━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━━━━┓

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#soukoku #mha crossover #bnha crossover #bsd crossover #bungou stray dogs #dazai x chuuya #bsd fanfic

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ckret2 · 5 years ago

Text

A Million Golden Fungi

So in January when I asked for some short prompts, I got this prompt on ko-fi: “Maybe some ideas how we can get back our Lord and Doom King Ghidorah in Monsterverse?”

Now, the easy/obvious would be to say it comes from San’s decapitated head—either San regrows his other two heads and entire body, or he gets made into Mecha-King Ghidorah. However, a lot of other people have played with both of those ideas already, and there’s decent odds Monsterverse itself will do something very similar if it keeps going long enough to make use of that Chekhov’s gun; so I went, what can I do with San’s head that’s like nothing I’ve seen anyone else do?

###

"It appears to be rotting," Alan Jonah said.

Maybe rot wasn't the right word. He'd seen quite a few forms of rot in his time, and none looked quite like this. He expected maggots, bloating, discoloration; not this... fungus? Something fungal-like, at any rate, deforming and pushing out the great dragon's scales. And the stench was all wrong for natural decay.

But there was a stench. Oh, lord, was there a stench.

"I doubt Earth organisms have evolved to rot an alien corpse," said Dr. Matheo "Matt" Fiez, with some disdain.

Jonah gave them an exasperated look. Dr. Matt Fiez was the latest addition to his little crew. They were a biologist of some form; based on their name, their accent, and their complexion, Jonah suspected they were Swiss. Perhaps Norwegian. He didn't know; he had no idea where half of his followers came from, secretive as they tended to be. He tried not to let it bother him. What did bother him was how Dr. Fiez seemed far more interested in the monster itself than in what Jonah's organization intended to do with it.

But, then, was that not why Jonah had hired them?

"I doubt Earth organisms have evolved to eat an alien corpse either, but I didn't notice Godzilla suffering any indigestion from swallowing Monster Zero's other head," Jonah said. "Or perhaps it's being rotted by some alien bacteria it carries to Earth with it or some such, I don't know, nevertheless I think we can both agree that it's rotting, hmm?" He gestured impatiently at the massive head. "Which means it's likely too far past its expiration date to do us any good."

They'd put it on ice too late to preserve it, no doubt. Or perhaps they hadn't been able to freeze it all the way through and it was rotting from the center out. Dr. Fiez had objected to attempting to freeze it at all, concerned it could damage the tissue and convinced it would be fine without it. Some expert they were. Even with the ice they'd lost their most valuable titan specimen.

Jonah gave the head one last frustrated look—the surface of its scales were warped in what looked like the beginnings of mushrooms—then let out a frustrated sigh. "Get to work arranging a way to dispose of it—"

"He still has brain activity," Dr. Fiez said.

Jonah blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

"He might be decaying on the outside—if that's what this is, decay—but his mind is still firing. He isn't rotten all the way through. He isn't even dead."

"I—w—" For a moment, Jonah was at a loss for words. "And when were you going to share this revelation?"

"When it became important instead of merely interesting. I thought that preventing the head from being thrown out counted," Dr. Fiez said. "If he is rotting, clearly he's too big to rot all at once. There might be damage on the surface, but if part of him is still alive—"

"Yes—fine. We'll keep it. But next time, tell me if it does anything interesting."

Dr. Fiez nodded and smiled.

Jonah didn't quite trust that smile.

###

Life was coming back to the cities that had been ravaged by titan attacks.

Not necessarily the kind of life that anyone wanted. In many cases, not human life. Often not even animal life. Just rampant, unrestricted plant life, very often in places where such abundant plant life had never grown before and ecologically should not grow. Armchair environmental activists who thought the recent devastating loss of life was some sort of net plus crowed about forests rising out of deserts, while ecologists nervously pointed out that there shouldn't have been forests in the deserts in the first place.

But nobody liked what was happening in Boston.

In Boston, as everywhere else, pale little white sprouts had emerged from the ground just a few days after the devastating battle.

But everywhere else, the little sprouts grew leaves, turned green, turned into vibrant verdant life.

In Boston, anything that turned green withered and died. The only things that flourished were the pallid white sprouts, growing ever taller, gradually looking less like new plants and more like fungus—long, slender stalks of mushroom with narrow, cone-shaped caps.

A map of the new sprouts was plotted: someone discovered that the new sprouts were found spraying out in the direction that Godzilla had been facing when he'd incinerated Ghidorah's final head, along the path where the ashes would have fallen.

Every time the sun came out, the fungi got taller and thicker: most of them like long grass that tickled just below the knee, a great many of them as tall as an adult human, and a few already as tall as telephone poles.

And then stalactite-like structures began dripping down from the edges of the pseudo mushroom caps. Stalactite-like... or horn-like; as if each mushroom was a miniature reptilian head pointed toward the sky.

And then the fungi started to turn gold.

And then they grew eyes.

###

Jonah watched the news coming out of Boston obsessively.

It had always been his intent to purge Earth of human life. Humans did not deserve this planet—humans were a parasite.

But he didn't much like the idea of turning the planet over to just another parasitic species. If the sprouts in Boston were what he feared they were—if those millions upon millions of little mushrooms all had the potential to grow as large as Monster Zero...

It wouldn't just be humans that were wiped off the Earth.

Jonah could accept some native Earth species being driven to extinction in his crusade against humanity. But he didn't want them all dead.

The fungi growing out of the head under his control were smaller than the largest in Boston, but many were four feet long and a few were eight. All of them were the same dirty brassy gold of the head they'd spawned from—no time wasted being pale white. Sometimes, if he stared at them long enough, he could see them very slowly twisting and writhing. Sometimes when someone entered the room where they were stored, he could swear they turned toward the new arrival.

"We've got to get rid of it before it becomes a plague," Jonah told Dr. Fiez. "And go help out Boston, most likely—I don't care if we have to nuke the damn city, lord knows the Americans won't have the guts to do that on their own turf—but first we need to deal with our own."

"I suggest we burn them," Dr. Fiez said.

Jonah gave Dr. Fiez a surprised look. "Do you? And here I was sure you'd fight to preserve Monster Zero." He'd almost begun to think they were among the daft fools that had begun worshiping the titans, they regarded their specimen so reverently.

"It's clear that, if left unchecked, they could overrun the world," Dr. Fiez said. "We know that they can still grow even when frozen. Chopping them up does no good—"

"Does it not? How do you know?"

Dr. Fiez blinked. "Boston," they said. "I'm in contact with some biologists there who have taken... trimmings of the new growths. They simply keep growing. Some spawn additional heads from the point they were cut."

"Additional heads. How wonderful."

"And so burning them is the only option."

Jonah nodded slowly. "It'll be quite a conflagration. We'll have to abandon the facility."

"It will be worth it."

"Mm. I'll see how much gas we can get here.”

"We don't know how flammable Ghidorah is. It might be a good idea to add wood to the fire."

"Wood?"

"And perhaps knock out a wall first to ensure the fire gets enough oxygen.”

"A proper funeral pyre. You've put some thought into this." Enough that it made him uneasy, when so recently Dr. Fiez had been so eager to keep their beloved specimen alive.

Dr. Fiez smiled wanly. "I knew you'd be asking me to kill them soon."

It seemed they both understood each other. "Then let's get to work. We have a fine cremation to prepare for our friend Monster Zero."

###

In Boston, scans of the caps of the tallest fungi revealed a row of hardening internal structures that they feared were teeth.

At Jonah's isolated facility, all their equipment and supplies had been packed into a caravan of SUVs and removed in anticipation of the fire that would destroy this site. The caravan parked far enough away that they could watch the low, unassuming building by binoculars as it went up in flames.

A cell phone signal set off the incendiary charges in the room with Monster Zero's head, which had been packed with the dry fallen trees and branches. It wasn't long until they saw flames shooting through the three skylights that had been blown into the roof.

And then, from amidst the flames, an arc of golden light. And then another.

Like molten glass hardening as it was removed from a kiln and shaped by a glassmaker, the soft white tubes of fungal flesh grew firmer, their edges sharper, their outer layer darker and shining metallic. Thin phlegmy films stretched and tore as bones tore free, only to be covered in new skin. Almost like...

Almost like when Monster Zero had regrown its missing head on Isla de Mara, standing in a pool of fire.

Oh, Jonah was a fool.

More new necks shot out, many with charred black trunks and branches sticking out of the soft fungal flesh. The dead trees were absorbed into the neck before scales formed.

Its regrow the was powered by fire. The physical matter needed to fuel its growth came from the trees. The only thing that slowed it down had been ice.

Jonah turned to look at Dr. Fiez.

Dr. Fiez was beaming gloriously, like a true believer listening to their favorite hymn.

"What have you done?" Jonah demanded. "Why?"

"You consider yourself an environmentalist of sorts, don't you?" Dr. Fiez asked. "You care so much about your planet's ecosystem."

"'Your'?"

Somehow, it had never occurred to Jonah until now to consider the full implications of the fact that Monster Zero was an alien.

Such as to wonder how it had gotten here.

Or whether there were more.

"When I asked to join your organization, I wasn't lying when I said it was because I'm something of a radical environmentalist myself," said Dr. Matt Fiez. "But the interconnected ecosystem I concern myself with is a bit more interstellar than yours."

A hundred necks, necks like spiraling ribbons, necks like writhing tentacles, burst from the building; then the noise of wings, like standing in the middle of a murder of crows as it took off, or like standing in a dark cavern as a colony of bats awoke overhead. Static cracked in the air; the sky darkened with clouds. The first few bolts of lighting shot from the glittering writhing new creatures into the heavens.

In Boston, awoken by a distant psychic signal, millions of fungi a hundred different sizes tore open their new mouths, dragged their wings from the dirt, and roared toward the sky.

At Jonah's isolated facility, Metphies closed their eyes in rapture, listening to the sound.

###

This fic is crossposted to AO3, link in my description. If you enjoyed the fic, a reblog or comment would be appreciated.

#ghidorah #king ghidorah #kotm #godzilla #metphies #fanfic #my writing

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officialleehadan · 6 years ago

Text

Wolf Club

The skinshifters were always difficult.

The wolves were, of course, the most common, but every now and then someone took differently to the bite and a bird or some other beast filled the skin of a human.

They had a pack system set up that was, for lack of a better word, somewhat inefficient. They made the human gangs look reasonable and organized.

And the territory disputes were always a problem.

Fortunately, like most other Others, they took staying out of human notice fairly seriously, and Helena didn’t pay them much mind, all things considered.

It was always a pain to have to deal with them, but there were enough pack-leaders that, when the need was dire, they could be reasoned with.

Helena hated that, since she was the one to bring the matter before the council, she also got to be the one to deal with the wolves.

Owen came with her for reasons of his own.

“This is a Wolf club,” he noted as her driver pulled up in front of the thundering nightclub, this time driving a sleek, but subtle black car, rather than Helena’s limo. “You sure you want to walk in there?”

“The Shifters have the next biggest community after us,” Helena said. She hadn’t bothered to dress for the occasion, dresses simply in black slacks and a glowing silk blouse that matched her crimson lipstick. “Ivan rules the largest of the packs, and carries a great deal of respect among the other Packs. If he joins us, so will the others.”

“Don’t werewolves and vampires hate each other?”

“You watch too many movies. No, we don’t, but there are always tensions between the Covens and the Packs.”

It would be better if Ekaterina was doing this. She and Ivan were from the same part of the world and shared a mother tongue.

The bouncer held back throngs of clamoring people, and stank of Wolf. When Helena strode up to him, Owen in her wake, he eyed them both, but lifted the red velvet rope without a word.

“He’s just letting us in?” Owen wondered, and no surprise. He had never seen this part of the Other community before. At least, not from the inside. “Does he know you?”

Helena let herself smile in remembrance even as she led him around the dance floor to the VIP booths. “The last time I was here, he caused me some difficulty, and I put him through a wall.”

“seriously?”

“He was very rude.”

“Und Soviet Russia, Wolves wear you for a fur coat.”

Ivan was a huge man, even without shifting. Helena turned to see the burly man clad all in black biker leather with a grin that showed his true nature. Half of the dancers showed signs of shifting, but Ivan didn’t need to.

‘Alpha’ radiated off him in waves. Here was no wonder why he held the head of the biggest pack in the city. Rumor had it that he won his last challenge without shifting at all.

Helena admired control, and disliked Ivan thoroughly.

“Hello Ivan,” Helena said, and glared when it was clear his attention was elsewhere. Perhaps on an issue with his pack. It was the only thing that Ivan took seriously. “How have you been?”

“Living good life,” Ivan sprawled across from them in the booth and took up one of the couches by himself. “Making money, eating food, finding pretty ladies to-“

“I already know your predilections,” Hélène held up a hand to keep him from telling her the gory details. He would, if she let him. In graphic detail. “I do not wish to hear about your conquests.”

“Why not? They are many,” Ivan smiled and showed all his teeth even as a server appeared. “Get me vodka. If I have to talk to a vampire, I am not being sober.”

“There is a Hunter army forming,” Helena told him, and resigned herself to a few shots of Russian vodka. There was no negotiation with Ivan without it. “They mean to wipe the city clean of Others.”

“Which ones?”

“All of us.”

That made Ivan stop and look her over seriously. “How good is intel?”

“Would I be here without good intel?” It was no secret that she hated the club, but there wasn’t anywhere else to meet with Ivan. He made a spectacle of himself if she tried to take him somewhere civilized.

That made him laugh so hard he nearly rolled from the couch. “Suppose you wouldn’t. Ah, Vodka!”

The bottle appeared with three shot glasses. The server disappeared back the way she came and was gone into the Fog and strobes before Helena could get a good look at her.

Clearly the wolves knew their leader well. Vodka and privacy. At least with the booming music, it would be hard for anyone to overhear them.

Helena accepted the first three shots with grace, because that was needed when talking with a bad-tempered, prickly Russian werewolf. The fourth she sipped, and Ivan laughed at her.

Owen met his eyes and took his with a smile that somehow seemed more dangerous than the spelled gun under his coat. Ivan looked him over, suddenly far more interested.

“You a pet?” He asked rudely, and Helena bit off a sigh. “You do not have smell.”

“An ally,” Helena said before Owen could reply. Ivan would probably think he was funny, but the wolf might also kill him, and that would be inconvenient. “The one who brought word of the impending danger.”

“Impending danger,” Ivan mocked her and took another shot. He hauled himself to his feet and waved them back down. “Stay. Enjoy club. I am finding out if you are telling me the truth.”

With that he disappeared up a set of quietly subtle stairs that led up to the private booths reserved only for ranking wolves of his pack and for Ivan himself.

“Is he going to help?” Owen wondered, taking his vodka more carefully now that he wasn’t matching Ivan shot for shot. “That was... abrupt.”

“He will,” Helena told him and sighed. “He just wants to make me uncomfortable. He knows I dislike coming here.”

She was old enough to find this sort of club somewhat vulgar, and the music was far too loud for her sensitive ears.

“Dance with me,” Owen said suddenly and stood. He smelled of vodka, but seemed steady on his feet. He saw her incredulity and cocked a grin. “Seriously. If he’s trying to make you uncomfortable, this is the best way to prove him wrong.”

“You can’t be serious,” Helena said, but as she said it, the music turned to something darker and slower. “That is entirely incorrect.”

“You want to prove a point to Ivan?” Owen leaned over and pulled her to her feet before flicking his gaze upwards towards the balconies. “He’s watching to see what you do.”

She knew that, and had been watching the wolf out of the corner of her eye since he appeared. Damn t all, Owen was probably right, no matter her own thoughts on the matter.

“Alright Hunter,” she said, and watched him brighten. He smelled like gun oil and controlled interest as she stepped into his space. “Show me how you dance.”

+++

Blood and Passion:

White Marble

First Negotiation

Blood Summit

Blood Claim

CovenHold

+++

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tahlreth · 7 years ago

Text

I Want That One

AN: This is such a dumb titles for a story, I hate it. XD I’m pretty happy with the story itself, however! It’s pretty long, almost 10k, so if you want to read it on A03 instead, you can find it here.

Anyway! This is for @kirah69 for the Steter Secret Santa Exchange, and I hope you enjoy it! Thanks to @stetersecretsanta for organizing the even!

Alliances were tricky beasts at the best of times, and part of Peter was absolutely delighted to see Talia struggling to form this one. Having dared to question if she would be able to succeed in tying their clan to a neighboring tribe of Octarians, his dear sister had forbidden him from participating in negotiations with their leader. It was a bit ridiculous of her, really. He wasn't the one who called them bloodthirsty savages, after all, and even if he did he wouldn't mean it as an insult. Peter admired their willingness to go to war to protect their own, and even a small tribe of the fierce warriors was capable of destroying an entire settlement of Merfolk.

With more and more dark creatures crawling their way out of the abyss of a nearby trench, their clan needed that kind of aggression on their side.

That was why he would, of course, step in to aid Talia in securing the alliance - eventually. Once her common sense overtook her pride and she asked him to join her at the table, he would be happy to do so. Peter wouldn't even make her beg. Much. Until she broke, however, it was far more amusing to watch her flounder when faced with the stern leader of the Octarians. Unlike him, Talia truly did believe the other species to be savage, crude and inferior.

'They don't even build shelters, Peter', she'd told him once from where she was lounging on a bed of coral and sea silk. 'They don't clothe themselves either, or create jewelry or art or music - all they know is war'.

Looking over the visitors from his favorite alcove (one mostly hidden in the shadows that few ever took notice of), Peter found himself in firm disagreement. Perhaps the adornments the Octarians wore looked more crude than the glittering ornaments his people crafted at first glance, but there was artistry there regardless. Most pieces were probably made of bone rather than coral and shells, but they were just as skillfully shaped, carved into interesting shapes - Peter itched to get his hands on the necklace the leader wore so he could examine it closely. Many of their visitors wore brightly colored spikes and barbs from tropical fish woven in their hair, and if they felt no need to hide their bits behind useless scraps of frippery, Peter saw nothing wrong with that.

He was absolutely fascinated by the symbols that the Octarians had tattooed into the skin of their human halves. There were stories in those tattoos, Peter was sure of it. Most of the ink was black, a deep blue or a vivid red; only a few members had emerald greens, vibrant pinks or shocking oranges. Older members were the ones that were the most decorated - the man Talia was dealing with was nearly covered completely from waist to neck. Perhaps they got them when they became accomplished warriors or hunters, or they could be a right of passage... he wanted to know. He hated when knowledge eluded him, and he knew his sister wouldn't ask any questions about the tattoos, not when they were both scandalous and indecent in the minds of most of the Merfolk in his clan.

Peter could hardly wait for her resolve to break so he could be formally introduced to the Octarians. He had so many questions that needed to be answered once their alliance was secured.

Focused intently on the flagging discussion happening in front of him, Peter had been largely ignoring his surroundings... so it was no wonder, really, that he was taken completely by surprise by a light touch to the inside of his left wrist. His pride would sting later when he remembered the way he startled - he hadn't had anyone sneak up on him in ages, and he was absolutely going to give whoever had touched him without permission a tongue lashing.

Except when he whirled to face the interloper, he found himself staring into wide, unfamiliar brown eyes that almost seemed to glow. At the same time, the touch on his wrist turned firmer - no, not firmer, something was sucking at his skin and he couldn't bring himself to look down at his arm to see what was happening. That would mean tearing his eyes away from the beautiful face in front of him and Peter wasn't ready for that yet. He was too interested in drinking in the pale, almost pearlescent skin that was marked by small, reddish rings that in a true human would have been called 'beauty marks' - and oh, they were lovely. Peter found himself wanting to brush his fingers over them, wanted to map they way they disappeared into short, dark hair and the way they trailed down the right side the Octarian's neck.

For the moment he could only let his eyes follow that path, ignoring the way he felt something wrap around his wrist to create several more points of suction. The Octarian who had interrupted his spying was male and likely younger than Peter. He was old enough to have been inked, at least - his was that vibrant red, looking so delightful against pale skin that Peter longed to run his hands over marked inch of him. Not that there was much of it, as the Octarian's tattoos were limited to a sleeve of swirling lines on his left forearm and a piece that wrapped around his right shoulder to grace that collar bone, a few delicate lines curling into the hollow of his throat.

Forget his hands - Peter wanted his mouth on those beautiful adornments.

Letting his eyes drop further, he found himself just as entranced by the many legs that his new obsession owned. His octopus half was the opposite of his human; the majority of the coloring was the same deep red as those delectable marks on his face and torso. Dotting the skin (which Peter thought might feel like the velvet rich humans wore) were rings of pearlescent white, some of them just large enough to be seen while the largest few were as big as his fist.

It was as he let his eyes run down the length of one tentacle that Peter fully processed the fact that one of the appendages was curled around his wrist. He felt his eyebrows lift at the realization before he gave into his curiosity and twisted his hand enough to stroke the limb that was holding him captive. Just as he'd thought, the surface was velvet to the touch with firm muscle beneath and just a hint of sliminess - it wasn't at all unpleasant, and from the way the Octarian shivered at the touch, the other man felt the same way.

"And who do we have here?" Peter asked in a croon when the Octarian unstuck himself to release his hold. When he glanced down, there was a ring of vivid red circles that might even bruise; they ran all the way around his wrist. They looked rather lurid, almost obscene on his skin, and they left Peter with the odd feeling that he'd been somehow claimed. He arched a brow as he met the Octarian's eyes again and was delighted by the way a red flush began to wash over his face. "Darling, if you wanted to mark me all you had to do is ask," he added while drifting a little closer.

Talia would be furious with him, both for endangering the alliance and for 'lowering' himself by dallying with an Octarian. Peter didn't care - the other man was beautiful, and Peter wanted him.

"Hello," the Octarian breathed, scooting back a little at Peter's advance. Two of his eight tentacles, however, kept drifting towards Peter and twitching - probably an aborted attempt to latch on, so he was fairly certain he wasn't completely unwelcome. "Hi. I mean hello. I said that already. I... I didn't mean to grab you, I'm sorry, I just saw you up here while I was exploring - no, not exploring because this is your home and that would be so rude, to be, you know, snooping around. So I wasn't. Exploring. I was... lost? Yeah. I was lost. And then I saw you, and your tail is just really pretty so I got maybe a little distracted and then before I knew it I was over here and touching you. Hi."

"Hello," Peter said, giving a grin that probably showed off too many of his sharp teeth. The Octarian thought he had a pretty tail, and Peter preened at the thought. He was a rather handsome specimen, and he was well aware of that. Even with his personality (which many people who weren't him found a great deal of fault with) Talia was constantly fielding requests from other merfolk wanting to mate with him. The electric blue of his eyes was mirrored in his tail, and his markings resembled that of a mandarin fish - bright yellow near his waist and shifting to a vivid orange as his scales moved down to his fins. It was very pretty, and he spent a considerable amount of time grooming his scales until they shone. Peter took great pride in the rest of his appearance as well, and while modesty was all well and good he also believed in being truthful. He was stunning, and he was pleased that the beautiful Octarian had noticed.

"Hi." Peter bit back a laugh at the newest, breathless greeting - he didn't want the Octarian to think he was making fun of him.

"Now that we've said hello several times over, let's try something new. You can call me Peter, and if you're so curious about how my people live I would be extremely pleased to give you a guided tour. We can begin here and - if you'd like - end in my bedroom." The Octarian let out a soft sound that wasn't quite a yelp, darting back with more force than he'd been using previously. He managed to run into a wall and kept his back plastered there, staring at Peter with those lovely brown eyes.

"That's. That would be... I don't think..." the Octarian gulped, bringing Peter's attention to his neck - it was already lovely, but the pale, slender length would look even better decorated with Peter's bite marks. "I'm Stiles," he said, not quite shrinking away when Peter got close again. Not wanting to crowd... Stiles so much he felt threatened, Peter stopped an arm's length away. It was hard not to grin when the tip of one of Stiles' tentacles began to lightly stroke his side, shifting between skin and scales and making shivers of pure pleasure zing down Peter's spine. "That's not... my mom was from a tribe that lived in different waters, and the name she gave me is... most can't... so Stiles is good. I think my dad would kill me if I agreed to go to your bedroom, so. Not that I want to even if he wouldn't get mad - not that I don't want to, exactly, but. I'm sorry for grabbing you?"

"Don't apologize for that," Peter said with a smile, holding up his wrist for Stiles to inspect. "You look good on me, sweetheart."

Stiles' lovely eyes darted from Peter's to his wrist and back again several times, mouth dropping open a little in an expression Peter couldn't quite interpret. "Yeah," he whispered finally, sounding wrecked. "I mean! Uh. I shouldn't have done that. Probably." A second tentacle had joined the first on Peter's opposite side, and he refused to draw attention to the soft, exploring touches - it felt far too enjoyable. It made him want more though, made him wish Stiles would wrap all those tentacles around Peter and leave marks all over his skin. "My dad is probably wondering where I am. I should probably... go and join the talks again before they realize I slipped off. I wasn't going to do anything, I just wanted to see," he added hurriedly, perhaps realizing how bad it could look to have a member of a diplomatic party slip off unattended to 'explore'.

"If Talia says anything, tell her that I'll vouch for you," Peter said, shrugging one shoulder. It was a risk, but one he was willing to take if it kept him in Stiles' good graces. If it pissed off his sister at the same time, that was just a happy bonus. "I'm afraid I can't help you with your father, however."

"... right. Okay. I have to go now."

"Of course."

"I mean, I really need to."

"I'm not stopping you," Peter pointed out, breaking his rule and carefully settling the fingers of either hand on the tentacles that were touching his sides. He loved the way Stiles shuddered as he skimmed his fingers upward, but he didn't try to hold onto him when Stiles pulled his tentacles away. "If you need to go, darling, I wouldn't dream of keeping you."

"Right. I'm going to, uhm. Go then," Stiles said, starting to edge his way along the wall, away from Peter. True to his word, Peter stayed where he was... but there was probably no hiding the interest he felt. Stiles' eyes never left him as he inched away; the Octarian went so far as to swim down the hallway backwards so he didn't have to look away. Just before he turned the corner, Stiles paused and swallowed hard again. "Could I maybe... if you're not busy... could I maybe see you again? Later? If my dad doesn't, you know. Kill me. I still probably shouldn't go to your bedroom, but you could maybe, uhm. Give me a tour of the other stuff here. So I don't have to explore by myself."

"I would be delighted, Stiles. Shall I come find you in the morning? I assure you that time spent with me will be far more enjoyable than whatever mindless entertainment they've set up for your group tomorrow."

"I'm sure I'll find time with you extremely pleasurable," Stiles said before turning that lovely shade of red again. "So... so I'll see you tomorrow then? Oh, but won't you get in trouble? I'm really not supposed to wander around without Talia's permission."

"Let me worry about Talia," Peter said, pleased to have found someone who was willing to use his sister's name instead of her title. "You just wait for me tomorrow morning, and I'll come."

"... alright. I'll see you tomorrow then, Peter."

"Tomorrow."

"Right. Bye."

"Farewell for now."

"Mmm. Bye." Stiles paused again, human hand gripping the edge of the entrance. "... bye."

Even once he hurried out of Peter's sight, Peter stayed right where he was, staring down the hallway with unseeing eyes. Stiles was beautiful, and there had been a glimmer of intelligence in his eyes despite the way he'd babbled mindlessly. If things went well during the tour he'd offered, perhaps Peter could solve Talia's alliance problem and catch himself a lovely mate in one fell swoop.

It was certainly something worth considering. Talia would hate the idea, and who knew how the Octarian delegation would take it - to say nothing of Stiles' family. But his sister had been after him for quite some time to settle down and choose a mate, so she could hardly complain. Hopefully his position as Talia's Left Hand would be enough to impress Stiles' family and gain their permission. So long as the next day didn't end in complete disaster, it really was an idea with a lot of merit.

If he could convince Stiles of that, Peter would be able to get his hands and mouth on Stiles just the way he wanted... and he could probably get Stiles to thoroughly mark his own skin in return with just a little encouragement. Looking down at his left wrist, Peter felt heat curling in his body at that ring of red circles Stiles had left behind. They really did look good on him, and Peter could hardly wait to get more.

~.~.~

Peter stared down at the trio of dead, gutted fish that was on the floor in front of his suite. They were strung together with a bright red spine from another fish, and between each was a carved bead made of bone. He had no idea what exactly he was supposed to make of the... gift? Warning? Threat? There wasn't anyone waiting to tell him what in the void it was supposed to be, or why someone had dumped it in front of his door. But it looked like a good deal of effort and thought had been put into it, so he gave a put-upon sigh and scooped up the present and brought it into his room for further inspection.

From the beads, he thought it was a safe bet that it had come from one of the Octarians. Perhaps Stiles would be able to tell him what it was for.

Reminded of is self-appointed task, Peter smiled and looked down at his left wrist. He was right, and a few of the marks that Stiles had left with his suckers had bruised, still starkly visible on his skin. Pleased by that, Peter had found a cuff bracelet that he could put on just below the marks, hoping that would draw some attention to them. Just to make sure, he'd taken the time to grab the inks his clan used to paint their skin - bought from humans, it was spelled to resist water, and was mostly used for special occasions. He almost never utilized them, but that morning it had felt right to decorate the back of his hand and bring swirling lines down to his wrist. Peter echoed the tattoos he'd seen on Stiles as best he could remember them, hoping the Octarian would appreciate the gesture.

All in all, he fully expected every eye to be drawn to the marks on his wrist, and he was sure he would preen every time he noticed it. He smiled down at it, pleased with himself, then swam off toward the visitor's quarters with powerful strokes of his tail. He ignored everyone that he passed, though he did spare a nod to Derek and a small smile for Cora. Thankfully he was able to avoid Talia altogether, and soon he had reached the suite that Stiles would be sharing with his fellows. Peter briefly wondered why it was that Stiles had come with them - he was clearly the youngest in the delegation, and while he was beautiful he doubted that was a reason to bring him along.

He put it from his mind as he knocked, however, intent on enjoying his time with Stiles. Before his fist connected with the door for the third time it was yanked open almost violently, and he came far too close to hitting the object of his affection. Stopping himself just in time, he turned his hand and opened his fist, turning the gesture into one where he could smoothly cup Stiles' jaw. "Good morning," he said with a smile, smoothing his thumb over Stiles' cheek.

"Good morning," Stiles echoed, eyes wide and skin flushing a sweet red. "I wasn't sure... you came."

"You didn't think I would? I do believe I'm hurt. Since we don't know each other very well I'll forgive you just this once. But Stiles - when I say I'll do something, I always follow through." A thought occurred to him, and he let himself drift a little closer to the Octarian, doing his best to contain his glee. "Did you leave me a present this morning sweetheart? Is that why you didn't think I'd come?"

"... maybe."

"The beads were lovely," he said as he searched Stiles' eyes.

"I made them when I was younger," Stiles was quick to reply, a smile hovering on his lips as one tentacle reached out toward Peter. If he nudged the appendage with his right arm to encourage the tentacle to wrap around him, that was entirely his own business. Well, it was Stiles' business too, especially since the tentacle wrapped around him with no hesitation, suckers moving over his skin almost like they were tasting him. "We all have to make at least two sets - that was my second. They aren't... they aren't as good as my friend Scott would have given you, but--"

"I don't want any beads from Scott, Stiles, no matter how lovely they are. Yours suit me just fine." Another blush fell over those pale cheeks, and Peter couldn't help but chase it with his thumb before sliding his hand down to cup the side of Stiles' neck instead. The motion drew Stiles' attention to Peter's wrist, and he saw the moment when Stiles realized what he'd done to draw attention to the marks left there.

"Peter," he said, voice sounding strangled. "You... that's..."

"I told you - I like the way you look on me." Peter told him with a shrug. "I want everyone else to see how pretty you make my skin look." Stiles made a sound that was nearly a shriek, then seemed to pull himself together. "Should I not have?" he wondered, for the first time realizing he may have crossed a line that Stiles' people found important. It was one thing to thumb his nose at Merfolk propriety; it was another to offend the people of his potential mate before they'd pledged themselves to each other. "I can wash the ink off if you--"

"No! I mean... no. It's... fine. Better than fine. Good. It's... so good. It's just hard to figure out... this would be easier if we were in my territory. I made sure it was alright to kill the fish, but--"

"Darling, if you're trying to court me I give you permission to kill whatever you need to. But first..." Peter carefully pulled away, making sure to be gentle with the tentacle wrapped around his right forearm. When he did, there were marks left behind, but they weren't anywhere near as dark or satisfying as the ones that had decorated his wrist. Swiftly hiding his disappointment, Peter bowed the way he'd seen humans do, then offered Stiles that arm. "I owe you a tour, I believe. Come while the day away with me."

Stiles grinned and took his arm, making sure to shut the door behind him as they left. Almost immediately the Octarian launched into a series of rapid-fire questions about Merfolk, Peter's home, and Peter himself. His questions were as delightful as Stiles himself was, showing a great deal of intelligence and wit. When he wasn't blushing and stammering because of their flirtations, Stiles was also excellent at responding to Peter's biting sarcasm with more of the same.

Peter was mer enough to admit he was smitten. Even if Talia forbade it, even if it didn't help secure the alliance, he was going to have Stiles as his mate. They'd spent the whole day together and Peter hadn't found himself bored even once. Better still, Stiles' tentacles and their suckers had kept up a light but constant exploration of him, moving over his scales and skin in equal measure. It was rare for Peter to be touched in his day-to-day life - he hadn't known how much he missed it until Stiles.

He had a feeling that he would be saying that about a lot of things in his future.

~.~.~

Well before Peter would have started the next day, he was yanked from his dreams by the sound of someone pounding thunderously on his door. Certain it was his sister, come to ruin his happiness from the day before, he didn't exactly rush to answer it... and was taken aback completely when the door slammed open before he reached it. Before his sleep-slow brain could process what was going on, each of his arms was held tight by a set of tentacles - neither belonged to Stiles, and Peter found the situation intolerable.

"What is the meaning of this?" he bellowed, tail thrashing and revealing his agitation. It took all his willpower to keep from fighting against his captors right away; instead he forced the rest of his body to go slack. If they thought he was submitting, he might find it easier to escape their hold should he really need to. The leader of the Octarians - John, Talia had told Peter that his name was John - no longer looked stern and noble. Instead fear and rage were mingled in his expression while washes of a bright yellow ran over his usually tan lower body. The vivid warning color made the Octarian's bright blue rings stand out even more, and Peter found himself certain that John was hanging on by a thread.

"Where is my son?!" John was even louder than Peter had been, human fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. Like Peter's, his lower body was an even clearer indication of how upset he was, tentacles curling into themselves before lashing out - if one managed to hit him, Peter had no doubt that it would be extremely painful. As the Octarian's words penetrated, Peter found himself at a loss. John had a son? A son he'd brought to this meeting? He hadn't known that, didn't know why they would think he knew anything about-- "Where is Stiles?!"

Shit.

"What do you mean, where is he? Did something happen?" Peter tried to move forward, but was held fast by the other two Octarians. He didn't even try to keep from snarling at the one on his left, but even the way the other winced back wasn't enough to mollify him. "I left him last night in the guest quarters. I was supposed to see him later today."

John was scowling as he watched Peter, but after a few moments he waved a hand and Peter was released. He hated the light suction marks they had left on his skin, and the two Octarians should pray they disappeared before he saw Stiles again. If his mate-to-be suspected him of any kind of unfaithfulness, Peter would gut the both of them.

"He was gone when I woke this morning," John said, beginning to move back and forth in the water, tentacles still barely under control. "I thought... I had hoped he snuck away to be with the Mer that he had been gushing over. He gave you fish and beads," John added in a mutter, running a hand through his hair. "I thought for sure he would... you really haven't seen him?"

"No," Peter said shortly, refusing to be worried just yet. He needed to stay as calm and collected as he could - he would give into the urge to worry and turn hysterical once Stiles was found. Then he would either kiss the Octarian senseless or strangle him, whichever was most appropriate. "Have you told my sister? Talia could--"

"You're Talia's brother?"

"And you're Stiles' father," Peter knew his voice was terse, but there was no helping that. As he spoke he was headed for his door, itching to put a plan in motion to find Stiles. "Clearly there are things we should have spoken of, but now is not the time. You have no idea where he could have gone?"

"No."

Peter didn't growl at Stiles' father, but it was a near thing. How could he have lost Stiles? He refused to talk to the Octarian as they moved, too busy trying to put a plan of action together. He didn't want to draw the attention of his entire clan, not with an alliance and Stiles at stake. There were some Merfolk that he wouldn't trust not to overreact - they would decide Stiles was a spy of some kind and might hurt the Octarian he wanted to take as his mate. Talia would have to be told, unfortunately, and then she'd stick her nose into his courtship which he wasn't looking forward to. Still, the warriors that he did trust to take the task of searching for his mate seriously all answered to her or his nephew.

Which meant he'd have to get Derek involved, which would intrigue Cora and Laura, and soon the entirety of his nosy, annoying family would be involved. Marvelous.

Despite the reluctance part of him felt, Peter sent the first mer they came across to fetch his nephew to Talia's chambers immediately. John frowned over at him, and he held back a sneer in return. He needed to make nice with Stiles' family, especially since their courtship hadn't been completed yet. Beyond that, the Octarian looked to be hanging on to his temper by a thin thread, and he had no doubt John wouldn't have a problem lashing out in his anger. It was a trait he admired in his people as much as Talia found it distasteful.

He hadn't wondered if the alliance was really a good idea for his own sake.

By the time Peter and his Octarian escort arrived at his sister's chambers, Derek was hovering by the door. His heavy brows were drawn into a frown, though one arched in a silent question once he caught sight of Peter. His nephews eyebrows said more than the dear boy ever managed with his mouth.

"My son is missing," John snapped instead of letting Peter answer. "If I find out your people know where he is--"

"I can assure you that we had nothing to do with it," Peter interrupted in his 'I'm very diplomatic' voice. "If even a hint of something like that had reached my ears, I'd have killed the one doing the whispering. Talia!" he called as he threw open the doors to her room - she'd know they were there, and this was no time to stand on ceremony.

His sister was scowling as she swam up to him, hair still mussed from sleep and none of her usual finery in place. "Peter. What is the meaning of this?"

"Stiles - my son - is missing," John said yet again, starting to go quiet in his anger. That worried Peter, and he did hope that this wouldn't turn into a diplomatic incident. For all that Talia and most of their clan considered them savages, Peter doubted they could stand against the Octarians if they found a reason to go to war. "I want him found, and I want an explanation - you assured me that we would be safe here, that no one would move against us--"

"None of my people had anything to do with this," Talia interrupted, and another wash of violent yellow ran over John's lower body. Peter thought if another person didn't let him finish the Octarian was going to do some damage. "Peter, why are you here?"

"Stiles has - apparently - initiated a courtship with your brother," John said, terse and to the point. "I had... hoped," he continued, though the grimace that accompanied the word indicated that he'd felt something completely different. "That I would find them together in Peter's room. Instead my son is missing, and I demand your aid to find him."

"Peter, you--" Talia stopped herself and shot him a look that meant trouble later, while Derek looked almost happy with surprise. It was strange to see his face without a sullen glower on it. "I apologize, John. Now isn't the time. Of course we will assist you. I assume you have an idea of where to start, Peter."

"Only who we should send. If word of this spreads, we may lose control of the situation. Derek, if you would be so kind as to lend me Boyd, Erica and Isaac I would very much appreciate it. Just do remind Erica to keep her mouth shut for the time being. And Talia, I believe we should use your honor guard - they would die before they betrayed your trust. Did Stiles say anything last night that gave any sort of clue as to where he might be?"

"No. He spoke only of you, and how he wished he'd been able to find something more impressive to offer you than mere fish."

"I liked the fish," Peter said, frowning at his mate's apparent insecurity. "He managed to catch my favorite." Peter had planned to prepare the both of them a meal using the gift for lunch, one of the first steps in the courtship dance of his own people. If Stiles didn't manage to come back to him before the midday meal, Peter was going to be rather cross with him.

"Stiles worries," John said, sounding both fond and exasperated. "If no one abducted him, I'm sure that after you parted ways he talked himself into thinking that you found his offering to be lacking. Once he gets his mind set on something... well. It is possible that he managed to sneak out," John allowed, looking unhappy at the admission that there might have been no wrongdoing on the part of the Merfolk.

"Excuse me," Derek's voice was unexpected, which meant it was probably something important. Peter turned toward him and made a gesture for him to continue, and his nephew did so with heavy brows. "But I don't know much of your rituals. Does Stiles need to hunt something to present to Peter for the first step of courtship?"

"In a manner of speaking. Usually we try to hunt a more dangerous creature to prove that we are capable of protecting our mates and any children that come from the union. However, if we are in an area where that's impossible or if an Octarian is a poor hunter, they may choose to hunt a prey animal instead to prove that they can still provide."

"Stiles was disappointed that he could only give me fish," Peter remembered suddenly. "He was worried about hunting things he wasn't supposed to in our territory. I... I gave him permission to kill whatever he needed to. I was jesting, but--"

"Well... shit," John said quietly, running a hand through his hair. "So he probably went off hunting, on his own, in unfamiliar territory looking for something dangerous. Lovely."

"I think... it might be worse," Derek murmured, reluctant as always to give his words away. "Stiles is... he is the one with the red markings on his human half, isn't he?" Peter saw just a hint of red dusting his nephew's cheeks and he didn't even try to keep himself from growling. Derek just rolled his eyes, eyebrows drawing even closer together. "I was talking with Cora and Boyd about the recent increase of invasions from the creatures of the abyss. He... may have heard. If he's so determined to impress uncle Peter...."

Dread swamped him, turning his human parts cold as the arctic sea. Even the least of the infernal beings was a monster, and facing one alone was akin to suicide. If Stiles ran into one of the larger, more dangerous creatures.... Peter propelled himself backwards until he hit the wall, using it to support himself as he tried to think. John had wave after wave of yellow washing over his tentacles, while the other two Octarians were changing colors as well. John and Talia were barking orders to their respective people, while Derek left to get Boyd, Erica and Isaac. On his way out he took just a moment to stop at Peter's side and give his shoulder a firm, reassuring squeeze.

His mate was out there hunting monsters born from darkness and nightmares, and Stiles was doing it to impress him. Peter was going to strangle the idiot once he returned, he decided as everyone but he and his sister left the room. He wouldn't kill Stiles, because many of the preparations he'd made to cheat death would work only for him, but he might maim the Octarian. His stupid, reckless mate deserved nothing less, and if he got hurt during this ridiculous attempt to win his hand, Peter would make him grovel for forgiveness.

Well, after he nursed Stiles back to health. Yelling at and strangling him would be far less satisfying if Stiles was already injured.

Making the decision that he'd let himself be weak for long enough, Peter took a breath and pulled himself together. Almost as soon as he'd left the support of the wall behind, however, Talia was on him. "An Octarian, Peter? Really? I have brought mer after mer to you, ones who were accomplished, refined and beautiful - some from clans even wealthier than ours! - and you spurned every single one of them--"

"They were boring," Peter said, eyes narrowing in a warning Talia was almost certain to ignore. "Most of them were also stupid or complacent. Stiles is far more beautiful than any of them ever were, and his mind is absolutely fascinating. So no, not an Octarian - I want Stiles. I don't know why you're getting into a snit, sister," he continued with a growl when Talia opened her mouth to argue. "This will probably help you get your alliance, though I had no idea Stiles was John's son. Though I had wondered why someone so young had joined the delegation... but none of that matters. Not until he's found and brought safely back here where I can maim him myself."

"Hmph. You call our people stupid. At least none of us would be so foolish as to--"

"I would think very, very carefully about the words leaving your mouth, sister dearest. Stiles will be my mate, so long as John doesn't forbid it. If you think I'll let you or anyone speak ill of him..." Peter trailed off, then gave Talia a smile that made her shiver and move back just a little bit. "Your position means nothing when it comes to him. If you can't keep a civil tongue in your head then I'll be happy to rip it out."

With that, he swept out of her chambers, heading for his own as swiftly as he could manage without rousing suspicion. Once he'd gotten there, he went straight for his armor - he had no intention of sitting at home flipping his fins while others searched for his mate. His chest piece had been made of the scales from the very monsters Stiles had gone hunting, given to a master blacksmith on the surface to turn into a protective work of art.

It was nearly impenetrable, black with a sheen of colors dancing over the surface like oil on water. It included a pauldron that covered his left shoulder in the shape of a leviathan, with it's eyes done in jewels that were the same color as Peter's eyes. The guards he pulled onto his forearms were far less intricate and far more flexible, giving him the dexterity he needed to wield the daggers he preferred. As soon as the belt that held six of them was strapped around his waist, Peter was off, headed for the place where they'd all agreed to meet.

If Talia or John thought to keep him out of this, he would stab first and ask for 'permission' later.

Thankfully Stiles' father did no such thing. Indeed, he and the other Octarians with him were kitted out in much the same fashion as Peter, though his weapon of choice was a spear. When he saw Peter approach, something close to respect and acceptance crossed his face, and the nod he gave was one of approval. Peter knew that many other underwater denizens considered his people soft, and they weren't entirely wrong. He was, however, happy to prove that not all Merfolk were content to stay in their shelters and let others protect them.

Once Derek joined them with his three underlings and Talia's honor guard, they spoke briefly to make a plan. Peter ended up in 'command' of two Octarians and Erica - it had been decided that breaking into groups that included both peoples was the best option. The Octarians were more battle-hardened, while the Merfolk knew their territory and the best ways to fight the beasts that rose from the darkest depths. Hopefully the mixed groups would be able to cover more ground and come back safely.

As they left their shelter, Peter swore once again that he would never forgive Stiles if he got hurt. Peter was already impressed, already determined to make Stiles his, after all. There was nothing that could make him change his mind... not even the realization that his mate was just a little bit stupid.

~.~.~

Peter wasn't the one who found Stiles.

Erica and the Octarians - Jordan and Liam - had done well despite that. They'd run into a few small threats and gotten through them all with nothing more than a few small cuts and bruises. The Octarians had impressed him quite a bit, and he'd been pleased with the way Erica was completely willing to work with them, adapting the way she fought to accommodate and compliment their own styles. It had reinforced the benefits of the alliance in Peter's mind, and if his sister found a way to fuck it up he was going to seriously consider a coup.

One of the last pitfalls they faced was a shark - aging and scarred from a life well lived, she wouldn't stop attacking until Peter finally ended her pain. She had gotten a few good smacks in with her tail, and his ribs felt bruised and tender as the four of them worked together to bring the carcass home. While his clan didn't often seek out shark, it would provide quite a bit of food, along with teeth and other things they could use. It would have been a waste to let the carcass rot in the water, and they'd been out long enough that Peter thought it best they check in to see if anything had changed.

On reaching the outer wall of the settlement, however, he saw that their catch was not going to be the big news of the day.

Someone had killed a druaqon. Though they weren't the largest of the dark creatures by far, they were still vicious and difficult to bring down without a solid plan and, preferably, at least three Merfolk. Peter very much doubted that any mer at all had been involved in the slaying of this particular brute, however. Not with Stiles standing proudly next to it, a spear dripping with black ichor; some of it was also smeared on his arms and in a long line down his back. Along that same line were large welts where the creature had gotten Stiles. Peter knew from experience that they were painful, and fully intended to sit his idiot mate down as soon as possible so he could care for them.

"Erica?" he murmured, eyes fixed on the wonderfully stupid Octarian he fully planned on twining his life with. "Could you please go to Deaton and ensure that a batch of the antidote for druaqon venom is being made? If no one had the brains to request it before I arrived, have him start one."

"So that's your mate, huh?" she said, voice heavy with interest and suggestion. "I can see why you like him so much Peter." When he slanted a look her way, she was grinning. As soon as he growled, the little minx winked at him, then flitted off to Deaton as he'd asked.

"Brat," he muttered before looking over to his Octarian helpers. "We can leave the shark here - the kitchens will come to retrieve the meat. I think we'd best go see how much trouble my mate is in."

"You two aren't even--"

"Shut up," Jordan interrupted before Peter could, elbowing Liam in the gut as he spoke. "Stiles went and killed a monster for him, and Peter was ready to kill one to keep Stiles safe. I have a feeling that if either John or Talia try to get in the way of this match they'll be the ones who ended up backing down."

"Of course they would," Peter said with a smile, deciding that he liked Jordan but would happily stab Liam a few times - though in non-fatal spots, since he had done well against the shark. "My sister knows better than to stand in my way when I want something... and right now I very much want Stiles." Octarians were stronger but Mers were faster. It was easy to put on a bit of speed and leave his temporary companions behind.

As soon as he was in earshot, he could hear John shouting at Stiles. Underneath the anger was a layer of fear and just a hint of pride; Peter hoped Stiles would take all three emotions to heart. He was also a little upset that John was the one doing the yelling, if he were honest with himself. Nothing between him and Stiles was official, as Liam had reminded him, so he had no true claim to be the one doing the shouting. He'd been afraid for his mate and angry that Stiles had so foolishly struck out on his own - he wanted to be the one threatening to wring Stiles' neck. But his father did still have first rights to that, unfortunately, so Peter supposed that for now he would play the supportive mate and save the scolding for later when they were alone.

In that spirit, Peter slid up to Stiles' side from behind, splaying his hand over Stiles' lower back where there were no welts. Stiles, who had been staring defiantly at his father, startled and then looked over at Peter. Instantly his expression melted to one of pride and pleasure, and Peter was suddenly hard pressed to be all that angry with him. "I found something better than fish," he declared, waving a hand at the dead druaqon. "I'm supposed to give you another set of beads, since my first offering was unworthy--"

"It was not," Peter interrupted, offended on his mate's behalf. "I was perfectly happy to accept those fish, Stiles. I had planned on using them to make the both of us a meal as my own first courting gift, but that's been rather ruined, I think." Stiles' face fell, and the proud set of his shoulders slid into a slump. Peter told himself to remain firm - he had a reputation to uphold, and all the gathered Merfolk could not be permitted to see how easily Stiles had wrapped Peter around his little finger. "I hope you will accept the shark I slew with some assistance from two of your people and one of mine."

There. That wasn't too soft of him, but it still brought some of the light back to Stiles' eyes. "You killed a shark for me?"

"Mm. Well, I killed it while searching the ocean for my intended mate, who vanished without a trace, telling no one of his destination. During that rather frantic attempt to find him--"

"I get the point, Peter."

"Oh, I very much doubt that. Regardless, the shark was killed during an effort to protect you, and I can prepare a meal just as well from it instead of your fish. I don't need another set of beads either, Stiles," he said as he leaned in to casually drag his cheek over Stiles' jaw. Peter was deeply pleased when two of Stiles' tentacles immediately began touching Peter. The tip of one was exploring the scales of Peter's tail, while the other wrapped around his waist from behind, curling around his side to rest on his chest as well. He could already feel the way Stiles' suckers were marking his skin, and he preened at the further evidence that his mate had chosen him back.

"This is all very sweet," John broke in suddenly, sounding exasperated, angry and fond. Peter had a feeling that combination of emotions might be common around Stiles. "But that was still an incredibly stupid thing to do, Stiles. I don't have words to express how stupid it was. Anything could have happened to you, and we probably wouldn't have even been able to find the body!" Stiles did flinch back at that, and Peter couldn't help but pull the Octarian protectively against his side. "You don't get to do that to me, kid," John said, suddenly sounding exhausted. "You don't."

"Sorry dad," Stiles said softly.

"I know. That doesn't make it better. And that doesn't even begin to address this... this... this!" John added, gesturing to where Peter and Stiles were connected. "What is this?"

"We're courting," Peter said smoothly, stalling Stiles' attempt to answer. From the way Stiles had gone rigid against him, he had a feeling whatever Stiles said wouldn't be helpful. "But I think any discussion of that can wait until after my mate's--"

"You're not mated yet!"

"Details," Peter said, waving the concern away. "Stiles is injured, is my point, and any discussion of our courtship can wait until they have been tended. Deaton should be finished with his concoction by now," Peter murmured, turning his head to speak the words against Stiles' temple. "Will you let me tend to you?"

The blush that graced Stiles' cheeks was both adorable and delicious, and Peter had absolutely no choice but to press a kiss to that rosy skin. "That sounds good. Nice. Yeah, let's do that. Hey daddy-o, as much fun as this has been, I'm going to let my mate--"

"You're not--"

"Why is everyone so worried about the formalities?" Stiles complained, plush lower lip pushing out in a pout. "We've done the first step of a courtship, which were actually the same which is nice, because we haven't talked about the differences between how my people court and how you Mers do it," he said, blinking at the realization. "Peter, why haven't we talked about that?"

"Because I woke up yesterday to find fish waiting for me in front of my door," he reminded the younger male, chuckling as an even darker blush washed over his face. "We'd only spoken once - I had intended to wait a little longer before offering you a token of my intent. You beat me to it, darling."

"Oh. Right."

When Peter glanced at John, he looked utterly resigned even with one hand covering his eyes. "Stiles," John said on a sigh before looking up at the pair of them. "I ought to lock you in your room until we leave. But you'd only find a way to wiggle your way out and find Peter despite it. So fine, go. You have my blessing. Just try not to skip any courtship steps, please, for my sake. Oh, and I expect you to come stay with my tribe soon, Peter - I won't have you two formally mating until that happens."

"Of course. I'd planned on doing just that."

"Good. Now go take care of my boy."

"Yes sir."

Peter ignored the commotion that was starting as more and more Merfolk learned what had happened. He breezed right past Talia without a word, guiding Stiles with a firm but gentle hand on the small of his back. By the time they neared Peter's room, Stiles was clearly beginning to feel the pain. The Octarian didn't say a word about it, however, choosing instead to bite his lower lip until it turned white and Peter began to fear that he'd bite right through it. The tentacles on Peter were also tightening, and he was sure he'd have dark bruises left behind by Stiles' suckers. While he wasn't opposed to that result, he was less than pleased with the cause behind them.

"Is your back the only place that's injured?" Peter asked, unable to help how terse he sounded.

"Yeah." Stiles looked over at him as they entered Peter's room, looking truly uncertain for the first time that Peter could remember. "You're angry with me, aren't you? I didn't mean to make you and dad worry, I swear. I meant to be back before anyone even knew I was gone. Not that that makes it better, probably, but I didn't think it would take so long. And I wasn't trying to find a creature from the abyss either, exactly, it just sort of... happened. I think it was injured or really young or something though, because it was moving really slow and it was pretty clumsy. I kind of thought I was going to die when I accidentally met up with it," he admitted, flinching at the wounded sound that escaped Peter's throat. He kept talking though, even as he laid on his stomach on Peter's bed. "I mean! I was hoping I could run away? Yeah, I was going to run away, definitely. I didn't just charge in or anything. Nope. Not me."

"Stiles?"

"Yeah?"

"This isn't helping."

"Oh. Sorry?"

They were interrupted by the arrival of Erica, who passed over the salve Deaton had made. She left with a lascivious wink, which made Peter roll his eyes. Curling up on the bed at Stiles' side, he gently washed away the ichor staining his mate's skin before beginning to apply Deaton's creation to the welts. Stiles did not take the application in a calm, stoic manner - the idiot whined and complained the whole time. It made caring for him less enjoyable and intimate, and Peter really was close to strangling him before the end.

The way Peter remained completely smitten despite that spoke to how wonderful his mate was.

After shucking his armor - he would clean and polish it later - Peter joined Stiles in the bed. It wasn't strictly appropriate, but they were courting. And considering the events of the day, Peter was fairly certain that they would be mated sooner rather than later and that no one would be able to stop their union. Not when they were so well matched and not when it would solidify ties between their two peoples. Besides, Peter had a feeling John would be hard pressed to find anyone else so willing and eager to take Stiles off his hands.

Stiles squirmed and wriggled and chatted for a ridiculous length of time before Peter huffed and dragged the idiot closer. Then the both of them were struggling to find a comfortable position, which was only made more difficult by the way Stiles' only option was to stay on his stomach. Eventually - finally - they settled with Peter on his back and Stiles draped half over him. It felt like he had tentacles everywhere, wrapped around his tail, torso and one of his arms. He couldn't wrap his arms around Stiles for fear of disturbing his injuries and the salve working to heal them, which meant he had to let both of them lay in a fairly uncomfortable position for far too long. Stiles' face was smashed against the side of his neck, where he'd probably start drooling and he was already snoring. He was too hot, too crowded, and too aware of Stiles to fall asleep with his usual ease.

Peter was certain he'd never been more content in his life.

#steter #steter secret santa #kirah69 #steter secret santa 2017 #my fic

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twelvesignsrp · 7 years ago

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congratulations logan, capricorn is now luca yamada with the faceclaim ryan potter !

Character Sign: Capricorn

Character name: Luca Yamada Birthday: January 19th Sexuality: Fluid Gender: Cis-Male Moon Sign: Aquarius Faceclaim: Ryan Potter Power:

MATTER ABSORPTION; The user can absorb matter, while removing it from the source, into their body and use it in various ways, gaining some form of advantage, either by enhancing themselves, gaining the drained power, using it as power source etc., either temporarily or permanently.

Luca’s ability is complete earth based, meaning he can’t absorb matter that isn’t naturally made or largely complied of earth base compotents. Items like clay, stone, metal, sand, and even gemstone can be taken from and used. How it’s used? Think of it like a layer of armor, in some ways, as Luca can absorb the chemical or atomic makeup of a substance—it’s matter—then reincorporate that matter into his own genetic makeup. Basically his skin and to some point his muscles or organs completely shift into the matter he absorbs. Whether that’s taking in a concrete wall creating his arms to be as heavy and dense as stone or absorbing metal railing, to coat his knuckles to be as strong as steel. His ability doesn’t give him abnormal strength, endurance, or durability—but depending on the composition of the matter he takes does change him. Imagine you punching someone’s face and then imagine punch a stone face…the matter is what makes him “stronger” but he’s still human, and has his limitations.

LIMITATIONS; Firstly proximity is needed, via touch. Luca can not mentally or psychically absrob matter. Like the element of earth it is person and physical. Luca’s limitations grows via science. Magic might be able to bend many rules in the world but never can absolutely break them. The porpotion to which the material Luca is absorbing is equally porpotion to how much he can collectively transform his body. If he absorbs a pebble or a stone the size of a brick, he can only spread that to about the size of his forearm or less… Walls, metal railings, or solid desk leave him more than enough material he let his body manifest into the element he’s absorbing. Secondly, as his powers grow stronger, Luca can have a slight chance of destroying the material he’s syphoning. Taking an objects matter is one thing, but if he takes too much he can destroy the integrity of it. As most stone objects, like rocks or bricks, have chances of disintegrating. So far most walls or metal objects don’t fully break down but might be structially more weak or it way rust. Lastly his limitations are that he’s still human, not inhuman. Luca can still feel the weight of his ability, almost as if he’s lifting weights. He must train himself physically and must work hard to withstand the physical demands of his ability. He might be able to take more hits, be denser or stronger, but that all fades once the matter does too.

SUB POWER, FERROKINESIS; Shape and manipulate metal, a solid material (an element, compound, or alloy) that is typically hard, shiny, and features good electrical and thermal conductivity. Metals are generally malleable—they can be hammered or pressed permanently out of shape without breaking or cracking—as well as fusible (able to be fused or melted) and ductile (able to be drawn out into a thin wire

Since Luca has absorbed large amounts of metals ranging from steel, iron, alluminum, and copper—when his power boost came into effect, his body developed what they know best. Metals. Luca is able to shape or manipulate metals, never create them from thin air. His ability is also weaker than if it was a main gift, as he often can only dismantle, twist, or destroy metal than truly shape it to much. His ability is normally heightened if he has recently absorbed metals or alloys.

LIMITATION; Luca’s limitations are practice and understanding. Chemistry was never Luca’s first choise, so understanding the softness of metals and their strengths and weaknesses have been a learning curve. If he tries to manipulate or form metal too sharply or outside of it’s scientific properties it can shatter or grow weaker than he’d want. As a weaker manipulation, he isn’t able to mess with heavy ammounts or large pieces of metals, much like his brain is too weak to mentally lift such a mass. Emotions can help him push pass that but as of now, he is limited to the largest thig he’s manipulating being a street lamp.

What do they study: Criminology

Biography:

self-con·trol

You were precision in perfection, a graceful force biding your time. As a child your chaos was order; neatly stacking your toys in the spaces they held, to coloring in the lines—dazzling your parent’s with your “skills”. However those skills or talents they’d dote on you for, felt nothing but natural. You like having a plan, a goal to reap pride and glory from. Your bones were etched with method and reason, your muscles woven with patience that rivaled most your age; truly you aged faster than others. By ten your ballet shoes would be trade for kickboxing ones—as the control that ballet offered grew boring. The older you got, that graceful force churned and brewed needing an outlet that wasn’t just lines and beauty. No, your hands ached with a soreness you indulged in. You were learning to become a soldier of your own pursuits.

re·spon·si·ble

Time moved on and your maturity produced your most remarkable trait. Your sense of duty. Martial arts only were steps to your goal, learning to protect yourself but a seed of virtue would bloom into protecting others. You, like all sixteen year olds, played your hand against Fate—tempting the laws of the world and breaking what you could, yet you never treaded too far across the line. You had patience for the things that so many around you eagerly wanted. You were a catious driver, a conservative when you partied, and above all else a studious boy. Your parents goals for you were lofty, but you worked towards them. Your dreams would stay on the back burner, as they would speak of being a doctor or becoming a lawyer…you held your tongue. Being dutiful to them meant everything, but you wanted nothing more than to be the opposite. For your heart was that of a lion, big and bold, beating to a rhythm of one thing; to become an officer.

pes·si·mis·tic

Graduation had came, you walked the stage with your canary colored sash, being first and the best among your peers. However you found a part of you that you never expected. Doubt and fear, a trait you fought hard against with grit and horns. You pushed past a lot; your sexuality, your parents plan for you, physical struggles, test, college acceptances…etc. You should feel the weight you are feeling before you fly off to Durham. You’ve made it, you are pursuing your dreams, you are free from your past—yet with your future open to so much your doubt festers a colder side of you. Judgement and sharp words become your mask you slip on with ease, while your eyes hide a mind that is softer than you know. You never forgot your virtue, to uphold and protect the law and it’s people, yet you forgot how to be yourself. More comfortable to be hardhead than vunerable.

stub·born

It’s been years and your life was on a track to success; everything you’ve wanted. However Fate is a fickle bitch, and you’ve found yourself butting heads and grinding your teeth for over a year now. Your life has shifted, to a plane or reality that has no control or understanding. That irks you. Your dreams are being put on pause, your finish line was so close but you and eleven others are being hijacked to something else. Part of you wants to run, to fight another day, to return to your life…yet deeper than that, a part of you that wants to serve and to be apart of something bigger keeps you there. Even if you rather not corroborate and feeling like you are being dragged along instead of leading it. You are here, you are now a witch, you are apart of something larger than the law.

Patrouns: Luca’s patronus would be that of a Heron, white with black tipped wings. Herons represent wild determination and inteligence. The grace of these birds are known for their adaptablity and diversity, since they tread between three elements—that of water, earth, and air. They are crafty creatures, fidning new ways to hunt and survive which for me describes Luca. His whole life has been polishing himself to be better, pressure and focus he puts on himself to hopefully be able to withstand it and become a diamond in the end. Not to mention his mother has a traditional Japanese painting that has a Heron in it; which Luca grew up loving and appreciating more and more.

Five interesting facts about your character:

Luca is tri-lingual knowning Japanese, English, and French. Most people find it surprising that he knows French as he’s American and attending a British school but his aunt is from Bordeuax, France—which he visited often as a child.

Luca is trained in martial arts, almost 11 years in Judo and Taekwondo. He doesn’t brag about how good he is, saying he does it to stay in shape and is just a agression reliever but really he is good. At seventeen he was nationally ranked in the top five, and a small ranking around the world. His coach thought he could work into trying out for the Olympics but Luca was more focus on college to do that.

Is secretly an HGTV lover and is a big fan of Property Brothers. He just loves watching people decorate and creating a space, which reflects as his apartment is very true to him and his aestehtic.

Most people are shocked to learn that Luca hates sushi, even most fish. His mother being more dissapointed about that, but still loves other Japanese dishes and is a bigger fan of rolled omlettes than anything. He still fakes liking it when his dates taking him to sushi places, just to be polite.

Luca owns a pet Husky named Opus, that is just 3 years old. The little guy (who isn’t that small anymore) is Luca’s pride and joy. They two are a perfect match between master and friend, as Opus is as loyal and trained as Luca is particular and ridged. He often shows Opus off by letting him perform tricks like getting him a soda or letting him open his bedroom dorm for him.

Character Quote: “Just because you are soft doesn’t mean you are not a force. Honey and wildfire are both the color gold.”

WRITING SAMPLE

Have you ever have déjà vu? That overwhelming feeling of familiarity; well think of that times ten and add a wicked head high to it and you can imagine Luca’s reaction to watching the scene in front of him ‘return’ to normal. His eyes flickered images of predictions, rapidly fliping ontop of one another like a frame by frame photo—like if stop animation had become his state. He watched a women that was about to drop her bag, drop it four different ways, each trailing like a streak of light with how the apples would fall (which was 80% more likely to fall over into the road than not). His brain felt short circuited, shaking his head. Each person or thing, whatever was in movement, spliced into several things…several decisions being produced. Watching birds fly to three different points on a tree, to seeing a car stop infront of an oblivious teen girl to then watching the chances of it hitting her too all in the matter of moments.

He moved out from the street and into a little vintage shop, hoping to gain clarity and solitude for a moment. His head felt less dizzy after he rubbed his eyes a few times, wondering if he was drugged or not. It wasn’t until the clerk asked him if he needed help, which he swiftly dismissed with a shake of his head and off to a rack to breath. “What the fuck?” he thought, before wondering what had happened. He’d spend several hours after that wondering more and more, but simultaneously worried about why it felt so comfortable too. It didn’t feel like a drug, like a blanket you borrowed from a friend to use—it felt apart of him, like he spend days and weeks making a blanket only to use it intimately.

ANYTHING ELSE?

Favorite colour is probably slate but recently I’ve been digging forest green a ton.

Also more so I’ve missed you all and this RP a ton, and stoked that I have the time now to devote to it than I did last summer. I have my own computer, myown place, and a better work schedule (even if I’m still gonna travel more and camp more)

#accepted #capricorn #quietly screams a bit

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omgkalyppso · 7 years ago

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29. "I thought you were dead."

- Shoker; ShepardxJoker

"What do you think about me and EDI?"

Joker had expected the look of surprise that crossed Shepard's face, but not the concern in her tone as she asked, "Like, romantically?"

"Well, yeah ..."

Her eyebrows knit together and her tone grew dangerously loud considering how close EDI was seated, despite the noise in the club as she answered, "The same EDI you jokingly called "mom" a few months ago? The same EDI who is barely three years old, who is still learning how to interact with organic life, and who's only had a body for a few weeks? That EDI?"

"Uh-"

"Joker, not only is it amazingly unwise to date someone who has control over your oxygen supply, your access to firearms, and video records of everyone sleeping, talking and shitting for the past - who knows how long, that seems wildly insensitive to her as a person." Shepard caught her breath and motioned to the bartender for a shot. "No. No, I don't think you should pursue EDI."

She extended a finger to him while she downed her drink, and continued as she paid through use of her omni-tool. "At least ... not yet, I guess.”

“Now I know, I know there's no time left in the galaxy,” she powered on, “and everything is happening now and it's true that we should always live like it ... And I feel like, you should know that while I'm coming from a place where I care about the both of you so much - that you might want to ask someone else, because it hurts that you would ask about her and not about me."

Shepard had got up and left after that; after Joker had hesitated too long while her piercing eyes challenged him. They'd just been friends before, hadn't they? And then after her resurrection - she should have hated him. She had every reason to. It seemed impossible that somehow this had been the result of his plea for advice.

After they activated the Crucible, it was about a day until they found Shepard, but even then, they'd locked her away in some medical lab for weeks afterwards. Her crew and associates, and the public, were assured of her survival, but what that meant was negligible in regards to her state of being. Covered in burns, broken bones, punctured organs and brain damage, Joker could only speculate that his comatose commander might never wake up. He knew that Miranda was assisting the medical team, based on updates from EDI and Liara, but the resources the Alliance and Citadel could dedicate to her recovery were dwarfed in scale by what the Illusive Man had once pumped into reviving her.

Now that most of her skin had grown back, the Alliance was allowing her to have guests - but this felt like it was only open to pay your respects, as she still hadn't been roused from her dark sleep. He went to see her, once, twice, it was different than visiting an empty grave on Earth, but still he felt closest to her when he was running errands in the sky, wishing he'd be interrupted by a message of her recovery.

How long was it then, by the time he was awakened in the dead of night by a call from EDI: Shepard woke, and was speaking for about an hour before she'd passed out again - but only sleeping, it would seem.

Within the week he'd been granted another audience with his commander. His hand hesitated on the door, and he could feel the gaze of the guards prickling the hair on the back of his neck.

"Busy-bodies," he muttered over his shoulder as he pressed his way inside.

"Joker!" Shepard exclaimed in greeting. She wore what appeared to be some kind of pale yellow duckling pajamas and a long white robe with blue trim, her skin was rashed in places and scarred in others, and she was seated in a wheelchair by the window; but her eyes were bright.

Joker felt himself tearing up and mocked a cough to regain his composure before he nodded respectfully, "Commander."

She rolled her eyes in great exaggeration. "You better fucking hug me. If only James Vega gets written up for inappropriate conduct with a superior officer, I'll kick your ass."

A scoff punctuated their embrace as Joker leaned down into her outstretched arms.

"Gently," she whispered against his neck, and Joker squeezed his eyes shut as he rest his hands on the warm skin of her neck. He wondered when he had last had human contact, and realized that now might not be the time to really speak with her.

"So," he blurted as he pulled away, "you saved the galaxy - or more of it than most at least. How do you feel?"

Though Shepard smiled, she rang her hands together, something Joker had never seen her do. "I feel ... proud. Pained." She rubbed a tear from her eye, "More than a little defeated." Her smile was largest as she finished, "Ready to rebuild."

"I'm sorry about Anderson," Joker said as he sat on the bed. "And many others."

"Thank you," Shepard answered as she looked at the floor. She glanced back up at him as she asked, "Any news of your family?"

"None. They could still be alive, but ... I hope I see them again someday. Regardless."

The woman nodded, her buzzed and bandaged head bouncing shakily in a nod.

Joker turned his attention to the table by the window, covered in booze, flowers and other gifts from guests. He fiddled inside of his pocket and retrieved a palm-sized model of the Crucible. "I, uh, got you something," he said to change the mood. As she exclaimed her surprise and reached out for the trinket he added humbly, "They'll definitely have larger ones soon, but still, someone's making a killing on selling toys that resemble the invention of our salvation."

The joy and excitement in Shepard's eyes seemed to fade a bit at Joker's last sentiment. "Right ..." she muttered as she placed it on the table.

He felt his soul shrink a little as he wondered whether he should have just brought flowers. Weakly, he mumbled, "I thought it would make a nice addition to your collection."

Her smile was still distant and polite as she agreed, "Definitely. Thank you."

He removed his hat from his head and ran his hand through his hair restlessly. This mild disturbance was raising his marked disdain for himself. Joker couldn't help thinking that if he'd already upset Shepard, there was no reason not to risk making the situation even more awkward.

"Shepard. I thought you were dead. Twice now."

"Well you were right once -"

"Not helping." Joker faltered. "I just. I came by ... half a dozen times to visit your grave before I left to find Cerberus, and I think ... I almost tried to forget you before they told me that you were their goal. It just hurt too much to think about. And I know we've been through this - but I got you killed. How was I supposed to live with that? Everyone on the Normandy knew, even then, that you were the best hope the galaxy had for survival.

"And then you woke up. You were back. Nothing felt real from then on for a long time. I had buried you, my career with the Alliance, my relationships with people. It was ... insane, building a life again. Having your support.

"I know it took too long for me to see you as a person again, and not just ... a concept, or a ghost. And I guess, what I'm building up to is, after you've recovered: What do you think about me and you?"

#long post #fanfic #my writing #shoker #shepard #commander shepard #joker #jeff moreau #shepard x joker #don't ask me what ending this is it's all bullshit #i hope i communicated what i wanted to get across and that it made some sense #i wanted a recovery arc for both these characters so badly #femshep #i made this #bioware

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gethealthy18-blog · 5 years ago

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324: Increasing Immunity Naturally & Skincare From the Inside Out With Four Sigmatic

New Post has been published on http://healingawerness.com/news/324-increasing-immunity-naturally-skincare-from-the-inside-out-with-four-sigmatic/

324: Increasing Immunity Naturally & Skincare From the Inside Out With Four Sigmatic

Child: Welcome to my Mommy’s podcast.

I am so excited to finally be able to share a top secret project I’ve been working on for years…this episode is sponsored by Wellnesse… a new company I co-founded to create safe, natural and obsessively tested products for families. You’ve heard that much of what you put on your body gets absorbed and goes into your body. We turned this idea on its head, creating products that aren’t just safe to put on your hair, skin and in your mouth, but that are beneficial. We started with the toughest first, creating the first of its kind natural toothpaste that is free of fluoride and glycerin and that contains ingredients like green tea, neem and hydroxyapatite to support the mouth. Our haircare is free of harmful ingredients and contains ingredients like lavender and nettle to support healthy hair! Be the first to try it at Wellnesse.com

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Katie: Hello, and welcome to the Wellness Mama podcast. I’m Katie from wellnessmama.com and wellnesse.com, that’s W-E-L-L-N-E-S-S-E.com. It’s my new personal care line that is EWG safe and totally natural. And this episode, I am here with a good friend of mine, Tero Isokauppila, who is a true fun guy, pun intended. So, Tero’s roots, or mycelium in his words, if you will, are in Finland where he grew up foraging for mushrooms and other wild foods on his family farm that they’ve owned since 1619. He later earned a degree in chemistry, business and a certificate in plant-based nutrition from Cornell University. In 2012, he founded Four Sigmatic, which is one of my favorite companies. It’s a company devoted to elevating our daily routines by making every day magical through using revolutionary mushroom-based products, like mushroom coffee, edible skincare, etc.

He’s an expert in all things related to mushrooms, adaptogens, health, startups and punny dad jokes. He’s also the author of two bestselling books, “Healing Mushrooms” and “Santa Sold Shrooms,” which is a children’s book. In this episode, in light of everything going on currently, we go deep not just about natural skincare and how what you put on your body goes into your body, but also about the immune system and how we can support our bodies from the inside out and the outside in, in stressful times and make sure that we are optimally set up to handle whatever life throws at us. So, without further ado, let’s jump right in with Tero.

Tero, welcome, thank you for being here again.

Tero: Thanks for having me on. It’s always a pleasure, especially now in these wild, wild times that we’re living in.

Katie: It has gotten a little wild. I definitely know we both want to talk about that a little bit today and there’s certainly a lot that you can share on a lot of different aspects of this. But to start off, what I was originally bringing you on to talk about today before things got a little wild throughout the country is you have recently launched a skincare line through Four Sigmatic and I’ve also been in development in the personal care world for my toothpaste and shampoo and have done a lot of research in this world over the last year, and so that’s a really important topic to cover. And I know that we will actually tie this into immunity and to some other topics that are very top of mind today. But to start, I’d love to hear about what went into the development of your skincare products, and to the point that, from my understanding, they are actually even not just okay to eat but actually fully edible. So talk about that and how that came about.

Tero: Yeah, we launched our skincare line earlier this year and it’s been a wild ride. It came about a lot through consumer feedback, so a lot of our customers and community was asking for skincare products. They read in my book and other sources how mushrooms and adaptogens can help with skin and they’d seen it in other skincare products more that use mushrooms or adaptogens that otherwise might have not been quite as clean. And so a lot of consumer feedback and just learning from, particularly, the Korean and Japanese cultures, beauty worlds, and how some of these mushrooms can help improve skin quality.

And the problem with me was that I don’t really use skincare and I use like ultra-pure personal care products as well that were hard to find and there’s not a product on the market that fit my personal quality standards. And I wanted more transparency, I wanted more of real food ingredients and that kind of inspired us to launch our first skincare products that are also fully edible. So a face mask that is also hot chocolate using really simple ingredients like cacao, spices, mushrooms, adaptogens but you can also put it in your skin.

Katie: I love that. I am very much on the same page with you about that and I think most people have a passing understanding that what we put on our bodies gets into our bodies to some degree but I think people don’t necessarily always realize the extent to which when we put harmful things on our skin, a lot of that does actually enter the bloodstream, it does enter our body, and also changes our skin microbiome and can impact even through that our gut microbiome and all kinds of things down the road. So let’s talk about some of the common things people need to know and avoid when it comes to traditional skincare products.

Tero: Yeah, just to build off of that, I think a lot of people, like, vaguely know that what gets put in your skin gets into your bloodstream, but like you said, they don’t realize the extent, which to me is a little surprising because when we buy a nicotine patch or something, the nicotine does go into our bloodstream. So we don’t think that these plastics and other harsh chemicals will enter our bloodstream as well, that’s kind of, to me, a little surprising. So one is just getting real good understanding is that a huge part of things that we put in our skin will enter our bloodstream to the extent that if you swim in beer, you get drunk. If you take a bath with magnesium or Epsom salt, you will get that into your bloodstream and relax. And we just don’t take that into account. And a lot of people say that, well, it’s just a small amount, but that small amount every day multiple times builds up so when you use a toothpaste or a skincare serum on a daily basis, if not twice a day, then that’s going to have a big, kind of, compounding effect. So that’s obviously a great starting point.

The other thing is I think understanding the industry is really valuable. We buy really expensive skincare products and also personal care products, realizing how much does it actually cost to make them? And this is all public information but if you go to L’Oreal and Estee Lauder’s website, you realize that they spend 3% to 4% of their sales on the actual product. So it’s very common that you buy a $100 skincare product where it only costs $1 what’s inside the bottle and then $2 to $4 on packaging and the rest is just margin. All those fancy ads that they do and models they pay and luxurious lifestyle, that’s paid by selling you $1 of value for $100 of cost, and I think that’s also pretty sad and frustrating. So those might be two good things to think about when you generally approach skincare and other, kind of, beauty and luxury products.

Katie: I agree, and what I found really interesting as I started researching this world as well is that you’re right, people don’t really acknowledge just how much can enter our body from the outside, but at the same time often will look at any kind of skin problem as a purely external problem. So if it’s acne, they think they need to treat it just with something topical on the skin and they don’t think through the fact that…and we now know from the research so much of that is actually internal. Any skin problem is originating in the body somewhere and we’re just seeing it on the skin as an outward expression of that. So let’s also talk about the nutrition and internal side of how we can improve our skin from the inside out as well.

Tero: Yes. So yes, it would start with what skin is and what does it do? So skin is our largest organ and it’s built from cells like anything else. So if you live healthy or unhealthy and what’s the quality of your mitochondria and your cells will impact including your skin. It’s just a difference between topical skincare and ingestible skincare, ingestible beauty is the time frame. Skin doesn’t rejuvenate itself every day. Depending on how old you are, it could take anywhere from 20 to 40 days, or even longer if you’re older. So when you eat for beauty and have a healthy diet, that really helps you long-term versus topical skincare can solve a problem today, and like many other forms of health, we’re often drawn to the immediate quick fix, right, and that’s kind of a bummer.

But topical skincare can help with, I would say, the symptoms, but if you want to work on the cause, you want to have a healthy body, healthy cells. That also means that when you have a healthy body, healthy cells, healthy skin, you need less product and the product works better. So eating for skin is so so important, and there are specific nutrients that are particularly good for the skin if you think of what the skin does. I think you already partially touched upon it, but the aesthetic element of the skin is just one of pretty much, I would say, 7, 8 functions of the skin, you can even extend it to 10 different functions the skin does, and the aesthetic part is just one.

Our skin will touch, it will protect us from temperature changes, it will protect our absorption of nutrients, even oxygen. People don’t know but the skin absorbs oxygen. But the big thing, I think, to me, is protection. So there’s immunity on our skin. Besides being the first barrier against pathogens, it’s also where a lot of our immunity lives. We’ll always have bacteria, so if you are scared of bacteria, it’s just good to know that no matter how much you scrub your skin with this coronavirus, with soap or others, there will always be bacteria on your skin. you can never out-scrub your bacteria. And wherever there’s bacteria, there’s also going to be mushrooms.

You know, you have your microbiome, also which is your mushroom biome, and not just your gut biome. So both your gut and your skin will always have bacteria and always have mushrooms. It’s just the question becomes what kind of bacteria and what kind of mushrooms does your skin have and are they supporting your immunity and your aesthetic function or are they hurting your immunity and aesthetic function? So it’s just very important to know that topical skincare can help short-term but in order to have long-term good skin, you need this ingestible beauty and you needed to know that no matter how much you scrub your skin, there will always be bacteria and mushrooms in it and that with certain types of nutrients, you can help your skin also internally as well as externally.

Katie: Yeah, absolutely. I think, at the end of the day, that’s the key, it’s not either/or, it’s both and always. And I think that I noticed that when I was a teenager and I struggled with acne, I tried to treat it topically for a long time and it wasn’t until I addressed things like gut health and all the internal factors related to health did that fully resolve itself. So I’m curious, both on a personal level and I know that you do a lot of research in this area for your products, what should we be consuming for good, skin what should we be avoiding for the sake of our skin and our overall health, and how does that work, like what does your actual routine look like for that?

Tero: Yeah, I mean the bad news is that you have to take a lot of things into consideration. The good news is that the same things that you take into consideration to having beautiful skin are also the things you take into consideration to have general longevity, have immunity, have strong cognitive function. So all of these are very much connected. I mentioned one of the things that you have to take into consideration is your gut biome and your microbiome. So your gut health, that’s incredibly important. And this can go both ways. This can be removing things from your diet that might be harmful for your gut as well as adding things like probiotics, prebiotics, good bacteria, good mushrooms into your diet. So gut health is definitely one major factor in skin health.

The other one is inflammation, and I would even say inflammation/stress. Your skin can be all kinds of…have inflammation/stress infections, rashes, and calming down the body overall is really valuable. At the end of the day, probably the best thing you can do for your skin is sleep. The best thing for anything in your health is probably sleep. So just maintaining healthy stress levels and kind of fighting off inflammation, and the gut health is obviously very connected to that inflammation, as you well know. The second one would be stress. It’s very valuable.

And then finally, any types of antioxidants, particularly certain types of polyphenols that you can…and certain color pigments are particularly good for the skin. So we can deep dive on what would be those foods that would be really good for your skin. But to summarize, gut health, stress management/inflammation, and antioxidants, those would be just three, kind of, key things I would keep in mind when eating for your skin.

Katie: Got it. I love that. And yeah, we can definitely go into more specifics within each of those categories. And I think this dovetails perfectly with an area that I want to talk about and I’m so glad I get to talk about with you, which goes along hand-in-hand with this, and that’s immunity. And anybody listening to this, I know there’s a lot of talk about that right now and there’s a lot of, I think, probably overwhelmed and some fear going on. And you’re one of my favorite people to talk to about this because I know that you come from a very level-headed place and a well-researched place and that you’re not going to buy-in to all of the fear, but you’re also probably taking a very practical and research-backed approach. So I’d love to kind of dovetail this now into the area of immunity and how we can all use certain functional foods and products to support our immune systems during this time.

Tero: Yeah, again, taking the 10,000 food perspective first is that immunity, unfortunately, is not top of mind for a lot of people, even really healthy people. They say that nobody buys an umbrella unless it’s raining and that same goes for immunity as well. So very few people focus on immunity unless it’s the “immune season,” which means the flu season. So a lot of people are focused on the flu season. And let’s be honest, a lot of people die of the flu every single year. But the immunity doesn’t take breaks. The immunity doesn’t know that there’s an immune season. It’s just something you should take into consideration all the time and not just because of staying healthy but also because the immune function is so much connected with other areas of our life, including the skin and cognitive function.

But back to the immune function, you will have this internal protection system that starts with your skin. But you will have these internal security officers in your body, natural killer cells, cytokines, white blood cells, and they’re there to protect you. And make no doubt about it, every day there will be intruders in your body. There is no way to, like, protect yourself even if you’re in quarantine of all pathogens. Like, there will always be pathogens trying to enter your body and every day your body is fighting off, that never ends. Sure, at times, those intruders might be stronger and might require more of resistance from your body, and if your internal protection is low, you might get the flu or a cough or prolonged in people with poor immune systems and they might be a little more sensitive to things like cancer.

There’s also another element of this is that if your immune system is hyperactive versus passive, it means that your body is so actively trying to fight off that it can’t even fight off healthy cells and things that are not intruders. This is when allergies and autoimmune disorders can really build up. So our immune system is quite complicated and intelligent but at times it’s either passive or hyperactive and that’s when the daily fight against these pathogens can get really difficult. So, therefore, you should be feeding your immune system on an ongoing basis with good stuff. I mentioned gut health being quite vital for it and for that reason, like not being afraid of bacteria on mushrooms but understanding that those will always be part of yourself and just having good bacteria mushrooms, which kind of takes us to the solutions.

Like, what can you do to improve immunity? Well, again, it’s what you don’t do and what you do. What you don’t do is probably feed off your body with processed foods, sugars, and common allergens. Those might not be the best thing for your body versus what is amazing is things that feed the immune system. And obviously, my big passion is mushrooms and these mushrooms have these particular types of polysaccharides, particularly these beta-D-glucans that are among the most studied things for immunity and they have these immunomodulatory benefits that are able to modulate the immune system either more active or more passive depending on your body is at need. You can also find these beta-D-glucans in small amounts in things like oats and certain berries like goji berries but they are the most prevalent in these mushrooms.

And then the other thing is prebiotics, so good fibers into your body will feed off in your gut, the good types of bacteria and fungi. So adding fibers and prebiotics and adding these mushroom extracts into your diet is one of the best ways. On top of that, there’s more seasonal solutions that you might want to consider if you know that you’re likely to get, in the flu season, hit a little harder such as high dose of vitamin C, certain minerals such as zinc. But you got to be careful with certain nutrients that are promoted for immune function such as echinacea, even garlic. If you consume them on an ongoing basis, they are immunostimulants, they stimulate the immune system, but if you use them on a prolonged basis, your immune system might get overstimulated. So you want to look for both seasonal solutions that might work great for a few months of the year. You also want to be mindful, which one of those you want to use year-round, and mushrooms are great just because these reishi mushrooms, and shiitakes, and chagas, you can consume year-round.

Katie: That’s a great point. Yeah, I’m a big fan of cycling most supplements for that reason of not letting the body ever adapt to it and because then they can have opposite consequences, like you said, at some point and I love that mushrooms are one of the ones that we can safely consume every day, and I certainly do. I know that you do as well as. Are there any specific recommendations when it comes to mushrooms that you’re especially focused on right now just in the interest of supporting your body and your immune system?

Tero: Yeah, I would look at these mushroom polysaccharides and beta-D-glucans like chlorophyll. You probably want to consume chlorophyll on a daily basis into your body, but it doesn’t mean you eat spinach every day. You probably want to have arugula, you probably want to have nettle or dandelion. You want to, kind of, rotate the types of chlorophylls that you’re consuming the same way you want to probably rotate a little bit of these mushrooms. But for the sake of immunity purposes alone, all the top mushrooms have these beta-D-glucans for immunomodulatory purposes, but if there is one superstar for immunity particularly, it’s the chaga mushroom, C-H-A-G-A, and it’s getting a lot of attention now considering where the world is on just the unique functions that that chaga mushroom has and then its ability to support the immune system.

So if people are looking for solutions for immunity, I either recommend a blend of multiple mushrooms, you know, anywhere from like 5 to 10 of the top mushrooms in extract form, so try to find products that have a fruiting body, that are extracted, and they’re organic, those would be the three quality factors, and taking a blend of 5 to 10 mushrooms daily. Or if you really want to have a bazooka effect for immune system, then I would really look for chaga mushroom particularly, like a high dose, over 1000 mg of wildcrafted chaga extract would probably be a solution I would consider, and combining that with a high dose of vitamin C, both for absorption of the actives in the mushroom but also general immune support. So that would be my recommended protocol.

Katie: I love it. And I know also that you live a very holistic life and focus on a lot of other factors as well. So separate of just foods and supplements and things that we should definitely all be focused on, I’m curious if there’s any other things you are changing or optimizing right now? For instance, I’m making sure that we’re spending time outdoors and getting movement every day, which we do anyway, but making sure that’s a focus, same with sunlight, proper hydration, sauna use, which of course, I know that you’re also a big fan of. Are there other things that you’re ramping up or implementing right now?

Tero: Yeah, I think this is a great point. I think when we travel, for example, we often don’t adjust our behavior even though our external world is changing. So we have this thing where a lot of us don’t have a seasonal routine. We always kind of try to live year-round in a similar way, and I don’t think that’s really the ideal. Obviously, you visited Finland, you see how the differences in the winter and summer. So we have to live seasonally and I look at this is a beautiful thing even if I don’t have to today. So I try to look at the external world and also my internal schedule is like, how is my internal schedule and how do I need to adjust my behavior? And right now, obviously, the external world has gone upside down and things like immunity are at a higher value. So I’m trying to adjust my behavior to more be in line with where the world is right now and how is my daily routine?

So there’s certain things I do all the time such as resting to making sure that I’m not overly stressing my body anyway, so maybe extra sleep or a nap is something very valuable right now not to…If you push your body too hard, you are also putting your immunity in jeopardy more. So extra rest is something I’m mindful of. You mentioned the other one, which is sweating in the form of movement and in the form of sauna is also quite, quite valuable right now. So that’s another way how you can remove toxins but also support the body with this beautiful kind of soft hormetic stressors. So that’s something I would be more mindful of now. People love to stay indoors in this current situation, which makes sense, but just so you know that even the cleanest indoor air will not be better than outside air. So having maybe your windows open, doors open, going for a walk, whatever you can do to get fresh air is particularly valuable. So even well-purified indoor air will probably always lose to outside air. So those are things that I definitely keep in mind.

The other thing that I’ve been really ramping up is spices. I think spices are some of the most underrated things in health and wellness, plus they often taste great. They’re something that everybody can afford, whatever your budget is, take high amounts of spices. They’re good for your gut health. They also contain these like quite immune-supporting benefits. So ramping up ginger, turmeric, cinnamon, cardamon, clove, they’re quite protective of the body, and finding ways how you can start adding spices to daily life is one of the easiest ways. And right now, in the winter, I anyway add more spices but given the situation, I’m just like doubling down on more and more spices and various peppers might be something fun to experiment with. If you want to kind of get crazy, various kind of spicy, hot peppers might be something worth exploring.

And then yeah, I’m just doubling down on my adaptogen mushroom usage right now on top of that. But having that seasonal outlook in life, in general, is probably going to serve you well, not trying to live all the time the same way and having courage to go over normal dosages. So whatever is your dosage in vitamin D or vitamin C, this might be a time when you go over those normal recommendations and having the courage…especially with those water-soluble vitamins, having the courage to take higher dosages.

Katie: Yeah, I absolutely agree. Even things like vitamin D, I know normally, I would recommend getting that tested, which might be difficult to do with all of the current things going on, or there might be a delay in getting tested but we know from the research, for instance, that if you have low vitamin D levels in your body, you’re actually more at risk for respiratory complications and all kinds of problems. And so that’s one that I’ve been giving my family just to make sure all of our vitamin D levels are in good ranges because right now, we’re not getting as much sun as we would be in the summer months. Like you said, same with vitamin C, there’s some really strong data on that for the immune system and that’s something that’s water-soluble that we can all increase at times like this.

I also love that you’ve touched on the mindset side because I think that is an area that hopefully we are all working to optimize our diets and our sleep is a huge one, like you said, things like that. But if we’re also living in a state of sympathetic nervous system because we’re overwhelmed and fearful and panicking, that’s also really not good for the immune system and I think that’s one thing that’s on my mind so much right now is just the idea, that encouragement of taking a deep breath, still having gratitude, still finding calm, still focusing on those that we love and community and mindset even if the next few weeks continue to get a little bit crazy but keeping those things, supporting each other within whatever way we’re able to at this point, and just still focusing on the gratitude and the good. And I know that’s often your mindset as well and that you continue to remain in a positive mindset through this as well. Any mindset tips as we face all this uncertainty right now?

Tero: Yeah, actually, a friend of mine was asking like, “How are you so calm in this whole situation?” Like, I’m going to get to the massages at some Asian massage place, and he was like, “How are you so calm about it?” And I was saying, well, A, I take care of my immunity all the time so I feel pretty confident about that part. The other part is I know that like the importance of your mind and how that also impacts your physiology, for example, your endocrine system if you’re constantly in a mode of fear, in fight or flight, how that actually decreases sleep quality, hurts your immunity. So there’s a compounding effect of the mind that impacts our stress, sleep, and immunity, so that’s why I think it’s so, so valuable.

And just to make it ultra-specific is, for example, people are right now obsessed with washing their hands and particularly hand sanitizers. And I think this can potentially backfire if you overdo this. Not to say that good hygiene is not important, it is, but if you’re constantly sanitizing your hands with harsh alcohol or hand sanitizers, it can have a pretty big impact on your skin and your biome on your skin, and that’s why I think, like, soap is so amazing because of those, kind of, like, friendlier fats to our skin and using fats, in general, is a good tip in these difficult times. Just the constant worry about washing your hands will double down on cortisol that will further then hurt your sleep quality, and poor sleep quality will lower your immunity. It’s a vicious circle.

So I think this moment is a great opportunity to practice your Zen behavior and practice things like gratitude becomes even more important. So when things are crazy and seems like it’s been a rough 2020 so far, what can you do to be grateful, what can you be grateful of? And finding those moments of beauty in your life right now, and then if you’re really stressed, adding practice like meditation, or what I love is cold exposure and breathwork. So maybe a breathwork session can actually help mitigate some of that stress that you have. But just so you know is that taking precautions is smart but stressing about it is going to hurt you more than helps you.

So this is a great time to find gratitude and joy and beauty around you and not to dwell on fear that much. And it’s obviously easier said than done and there’s a lot of concerns about us, our health, and our loved ones, but knowing that control what you can control and you don’t always control what happens around you but you control the reaction it has on you. That’s just something both will help, and also happiness, it’s good to be mindful and meditate a little bit on.

Katie: I absolutely agree. I am a big fan of a lot of the stoic philosophers and a phrase that comes up a lot with them is “amor fati,” which means basically love your fate or love what is, and I think that’s easy to do when things are easy or good or prosperous or times are easy, and I think that’s even more important to do at times like this when things are uncertain or seem crazy or out of control. And so that’s been something I’ve tried to focus on. I love your tips about breathing and meditation and cold exposure. Certainly, I know not everyone has access to saunas or cold plunges but you can do a lot of that at home in your shower and your bathtub, and breathing we can all do everywhere.

And just like you said, focus on keeping stress levels down and keeping focus on the positive. I think that goes such a long way toward staying healthy and not panicking and realizing that for many people who even if we get the virus, hopefully, it may be very uncomfortable but our immune system will be able to handle it, especially if we can optimize all these factors. Like you said, rest, get sunlight, get ways to support our immune system. Until then, I know that even as a company, you guys are making sure that you’re keeping up with products and getting things out to people, all of these immune-supporting products that you guys carry. So for anyone who’s new to you guys or to your products, where would you recommend them starting, especially right now with all of this going on, with trying mushroom products?

Tero: Yeah. So for me, the big thing has always been compliance. Health and wellness, both you and I probably do 17 things every hour for our health, right? I know when you travel, you’re a little pharmacy yourself with all these supplements. And if somebody who’s new to it looks at that, that can feel very overwhelming, you’re like, “Wow, that’s a lot of things you do,” and it doesn’t have to be complicated. So there is an 80-20 rule to health and wellness as well and we do the rest because we live the lifestyle, we enjoy it. But if there’s some things where you start…I always recommend first upgrading an existing ritual versus trying to invent a new ritual, and it’s just a more sustainable way of improving and upgrading your health and wellness.

So for us, a big part of where most people start is our coffee products that also include, by the way, the chaga mushroom that I mentioned for immunity. So taking a mushroom coffee, either an instant coffee or ground coffee format is probably where most people start. The mushroom coffee gives you a normal coffee experience that tastes similar to your cup of coffee but it doesn’t give you the jitters or the heartburn. It’s kind of more comfortable for your gut. And then on top of it, without even thinking about it, you get this immune support on top of the deal. If you don’t drink coffee, we also make things like hot chocolate, that might be a good starting point.

And we just try and take things like skincare, protein powders, other things that you might already be doing for your health and try to find ways how to make it cleaner and better for you, you know, not that different from what you are building on the personal care side. It’s like, okay, you’re going to brush your teeth anyway, let’s make sure that you’re doing that in a conscious way, and the same what we’re doing with coffee, tea, cocoa, protein, skincare is just trying to upgrade your existing products and rituals by containing the world’s most nutrient-dense, you know, ingredients and none of the harmful, bad things that often get included in these products that are not necessary. So that’s, kind of, it. So coffee is, for most people, the starting point or something like a morning smoothie with our protein powder.

Katie: I love it. And I should have mentioned it earlier in the episode, but I do have a special landing page with you guys at foursigmatic.com/wellnessmama and I know you’ve also graciously given us a discount code, wellnessmama, to save 15%. And like I mentioned, these are products that are very much part of my daily routine and part of my life and my family’s life regularly so I’m a big fan of the lion’s mane coffee in the morning and I do that many mornings, or your matcha, and then throughout the day, especially right now, I’m loading up on the chaga and cordyceps and lion’s mane, and then almost every evening before bed, my husband I drink reishi together.

So I feel like not just are we friends but you are, through your company, so, so much a part of my daily life and I’m grateful to have access to these products, right now especially, with the added focus on immune support.

This podcast is sponsored by XPT. You might have seen me mention this on Instagram as it’s something I’ve been implementing lately…here’s why. If you’re like most people you set a New Year’s resolution to be healthier, go on a diet or to start working out. We do things like lift weights, run, bike, hike, and watch what we eat. But, MOST of us will overlook the most basic activity of all, BREATHING. Validated by top fitness experts, performance breathing is the most overlooked activity that can do more to help you get active, perform and recover. And I’ve got the easy solution for you in just 5 to 10 minutes per day! It’s the XPT Life app and it will blow your mind. Inspired by the training techniques and lifestyle habits of big wave surfer, Laird Hamilton and former Pro-Athlete, Gabrielle Reece. The XPT Life App is rooted in the most basic, yet powerful human trait: your need to breathe. It’s that simple. The average human takes 23,040 breaths per day, so wouldn’t it make sense that we should learn to breathe the best way we can to perform the best you can? It brings together best techniques from around the world to improve recovery, resilience and performance in both mind and body. XPT is offering you access to this revolutionary program for FREE. With the new XPT Life App, you will quickly feel less stress, more focus and improved performance. Just go to XPTLife.com/wellnessmama to download the app. Many health and wellness experts are predicting XPT Life and performance breathing to become one of the hottest new trends in 2020.

Let’s loop back to the skincare just a little bit before we wrap up because I know a lot of people that these are new products for you guys, a lot of people may not have tried them yet. So just walk us through the products that you have and how they work.

Tero: Yeah, so we launched our first three products. We have a superfood serum that gives you additional glow. We use real fruits that are anyway good for skin internally and externally such as olive oil and avocado oil. So again, fats are your friend both internally and topically. So if you want to get that, you know, island skin, avocado is a great source, that Mediterranean skin, olive has been used for a long time, and then we add good oils such a grapefruit, frankincense, and there’s no preservatives so we use natural things like honeysuckle and the frankincense to provide stability to the product. So a serum, which is a pretty affordable organic serum, $55 for a bottle, and it comes in Miron glass, all our products come in Miron glass. If you’re not familiar with Miron glass, it’s like the best possible glass to prevent sunlight from entering it. So when you use these good oils, it’s important to make sure that sunlight doesn’t penetrate or oxidize those. But the serum is probably where most people start on the skincare side.

We also have a face mask that I mentioned, but it also doubles as a hot chocolate. It’s a powdered face mask that purifies the skin. It contains these mushrooms like chaga and reishi, adaptogens like ashwagandha and gotu kola, and it comes in these convenient individual packets, you can just easily travel with them or on the go, just add a little bit of water, put it on your face. And you can also eat it and it tastes like brownie batter. But it’s full of amazing cleansing things like ashwagandha, reishi, but also bentonite clay that is kind of cooling yet cleansing for the skin.

And then we have a body butter, which is the Swiss army knife of our skincare products at this point. So you can use that on your nails and your hair. Again, it comes in Miron glass and it uses things like cacao, like kind of organic plant butters and oils, so just cacao butter. It has organic mango seed butter, which is amazing. Again, olive oil, walnut oil, so these healthy fatty acids is something your skin can use and what’s cool about the body butter is that you can also…I use it when I travel to make a butter coffee. So I just take a little bit of my body butter and put in a cup and profit. So these are really so clean that you can eat them. They’re meant topically but if you want to put them in your body, they’re made out of food.

Katie: I love it. I love that. I’ve tried them all and they’re awesome and I definitely would recommend them. I’m, like you, a big fan of not putting anything on your body that you wouldn’t be willing to eat or put in your body, and that was my focus with the toothpaste and hair care as well. So I will make sure there are links to everything we’ve talked about in the show notes at wellnesmama.fm. And of course, if you’re listening, the link will be there but also make sure to check out foursigmatic.com/wellnessmama to get the discount on any of these products. I just stocked majorly up on several months’ worth of all of them in case we need extra, and it’s hard to get them so I’m well stocked and I would encourage you guys too as well. But Tero, thank you for the time today and for all the work you put into these products and into education and into just spreading positivity in the world.

Tero: Thanks, Katie, and thanks for having me on, and thanks for also doing the education work you do. I come across people all the time who follow you and said you’ve made an impact on their life and obviously, it’s a very difficult and stressful time so taking a common sense approach to health, wellness, and immunity is so valuable. So thanks for the work you do as well.

Katie: Well, thank you. And thanks to all of you for listening and for joining us today. We’re so grateful that you did and we’re grateful for you sharing your most valuable asset, which is your time, and I hope that you all stay healthy and safe and calm during this crazy time and I hope that you will join me again on the next episode of the “Wellness Mama” podcast.

If you’re enjoying these interviews, would you please take two minutes to leave a rating or review on iTunes for me? Doing this helps more people to find the podcast, which means even more moms and families could benefit from the information. I really appreciate your time, and thanks as always for listening.

Source: https://wellnessmama.com/podcast/four-sigmatic/

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ii-thiscat-ii · 7 years ago

Text

And here’s something else I’ve written!

Trigger warnings for parasites. Certain other things too, like blood and surgery without anaesthetic, but mostly parasites. Beware.

(Oh, and for the second part, which you can read even if the trigger warnings scare you off, you might like to revisit the list of sheep in the flock.)

On Ao3

Dipper’s day began normally enough.

He had been bored out of his mind for the last… unreasonably large amount of time, and so had decided to try the whole human thing out for a bit again. It was going surprisingly well. He was pretty sure around half his neighbours believed him to be some kind of vampire or something, which was a very distinct improvement from the last time.

Right now, he was headed home after grocery shopping, which was a perfectly mundane activity, even if his shopping list was mostly sweets and soda. It was a bright, warm spring day. The sun shone, the birds were singing, and the first few bugs were starting to buzz around. One had even stung him earlier.

It was a small, subtle thing. If he had been anyone but himself, he probably would not even have noticed it, but he was and he did. For a fraction of a moment he even considered letting it live, as a tribute to the pure nerve it took to sting him of all people, but no. Stinging bugs did not deserve his mercy.

He was just rummaging around in his shopping bag, looking for a small chocolate bar, when he felt something weird. It was almost like itching, a small movement just below his skin. He scratched at it while still focusing mostly on finding his chocolate, and diverted a miniscule amount of power towards removing the irritation. It was almost as if he reacted to the sting, even if the thought of him having an allergic reaction to an insect was laughable.

His efforts to remove the irritation did nothing. He furrowed his brows and paid more attention to it, but still most of his focus was on trying to get his chocolate bar out of the bag without tipping the largest soda bottle out of it.

Then there was another sensation. The smallest on feather touches on his power reserves, so much deeper than any part of his physical body.

He jerked his hand back in violent surprise, throwing the bottle wide and paying it no mind. By the time he realized exactly what was going on, it was already too late.

---

The man they wheeled out of the ambulance looked terrible, arms twitching feebly and clothes splattered with blood. He looked like he was just coming out of teetering on the edge of unconsciousness. Still, when his eyes cleared, they were open and attentive despite the trickle of blood running from them. He looked like he was following the conversations going on around him easily enough, but Maggie had learned never to assume.

“Mister Pines?” she said, using the name that was written on the ID in his pocket. “Do you know where you are?”

His eyes turned to meet her, and she was sure that yes, he was completely lucid, if in pain. “Emergency room,” he said to confirm her question. “I collapsed on the street and started bleeding, and someone called an ambulance for me.”

She nodded. “Very good. Now, do you know what’s happening to you? Would you be able to tell us?”

He nodded, and she let out a quiet breath of relief. Patients with strange unknown ailments did not happen as often as the medical dramas implied, but they still happened, and they were never fun.

“Static worm,” he said. “I need it out.”

She reconsidered her relief.

She knew what a static worm was, of course. It was one of the many things anyone who worked with non-human medicine had to know, but were unlikely to ever encounter. They were increasing in number, but still counted as rare creatures.

They preyed on shapeshifters. Any kind of shapeshifters, from werewolves through selkies to those strange, bug-like, subterranean things. They found their prey through unknown means, and would proceed to lay eggs in them, which would almost immediately hatch into the larvae the species was named after. The larvae would then somehow freeze the shapeshifter’s shapeshifting ability, no matter how the ability worked, and feed on the magical powers involved until it was fully-grown and ready to release its offspring on the world, all of which was more or less traumatic and possibly fatal to the host.

They also never preyed on non-shapeshifters, like humans.

“Okay,” she said, jogging alongside the stretcher as they moved him along. “Then I’m going to have to ask you some questions. They are only for your own good and will not be made official in any way in case you’re worried about hiding. Exactly what kind of shapeshifter are you?”

“Nothing you’ve ever encountered before,” he said.

“Are you sure?” she asked. “The more we know, the more likely it is we can help you.”

“My kind is very rare and practically invulnerable. We-” He swallowed, probably trying to get the blood out of his mouth. She wondered how much of his lungs was actually filled with air. “We don’t show up in hospitals very often. I’m sure.”

She nodded. Okay, unknown preter. She knew the procedure for this. “Healing factor?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “Damn good one, but this thing’s stopping it. Just get it out and I can fix the rest myself.”

“That’s very good,” she said. Then she called out to ready the damn surgery room already before she turned back to him. “Anaesthetics that work on you?”

“Only one,” he said, squeezing his eyes shut in pain. “But its side effects would… complicate things. A lot. We’ll have to do without.”

“What kind of side effects?” she asked.

“I’d get very high, try and probably succeed in running away, and if you did manage to help me despite that, I’d probably immediately kill you once my powers came back.” He looked her in the eye. “We’ll do without.”

“Yes,” she said. “It sounds like we should. Will you be okay?”

The way he scrunched up his face showed clearly enough that he was not looking forward to the experience, but he nodded. “I don’t experience pain like you do. I’ll be fine.”

They finally got him wheeled into surgery and onto the table. They started cutting off his clothes and he complained about losing his favourite shirt. One of the students joked that if he could complain about that, he was doing fine.

“I hope you don’t mind we’ve got students observing, do you?” Maggie said. “This is a perfect opportunity to see an unusual case.”

“As long as you get this thing out of me I don’t care what you do,” he said.

Maggie absently noted that without his clothes he was more obviously unusual, lacking certain features human males tended to have.

“Would you be able to tell us approximately where it is?” she asked.

He nodded again. “Inside the ribcage, cosied up under the right clavicle.” He dragged his hand over to indicate the spot. “Crawled through my lung a few minutes ago.”

Powerful shapeshifters tended to have unusually good internal sensory systems. She realized he probably felt that quite clearly, and she tried not to cringe. Working in Emergency for a long time would harden anyone, but certain things still got to her, and parasites were unusually horrible.

“I love powerful healing factors,” the surgeon muttered, cutting into the skin of his chest with little regard for if he would be fine later. Maggie quietly agreed. It made things much easier when they wouldn’t have to worry about killing anyone on the table as long as they succeeded in getting the worm out. Honestly, for being a critical case with an unknown species, the situation was almost ideal. At least the patient was awake, cooperative, and had some knowledge of his own anatomy.

“Your limbs seem a little weak,” she said, partially because it might be important, and partially because Pines seemed like he could use a distraction. “Is that something we need to worry about?”

“I kind of half-assed the body today,” he said. “Wasn’t doing anything strenuous, so I skipped on a lot of the detail and compensated with my abilities. Paying for that now. Should probably warn you I didn’t fix up any proper organs either.”

“Yes, I see,” the surgeon said, having just broken through his ribcage with almost disturbing ease. They had an odd look on their face, and they hesitated for a few seconds, looking down into his chest cavity, before they continued.

“Er, are those lungs?” one of the students asked, pointing at a couple of vaguely lung-shaped, muscled organs, one of which had a big hole in it and lay flat like a punctured balloon.

“The heart isn’t plugged into anything either,” the other one said, pointing at a lump about the size of a fist whose only apparent function was to make the sound of a heartbeat.

The rest of the chest cavity was filled with some sort of blackish red goop, which might explain where the blood came from, what with the heart not working.

“I did say I was half-assing it, didn’t I?” Pines said. “I needed enough to sound human and not much more.”

Maggie had to admit that having the patient sass at them during the operation was a bizarre experience, especially with his insides open to the world and also apparently torn up from within, while she could see his one working lung-substitute expand and contract as he talked despite his chest being depressurized.

Then she was distracted by the surgeon swearing like a sailor. They found the static worm.

“Holy fuck,” she said when she saw it.

She had never personally seen a static worm before, and she suspected neither had the surgeon, but they had both seen the pictures. They were white, shapeless worms with sharp spines sticking out of them, varying in size depending on the host. They should not get much bigger than her pinkie finger. This one was as thick around as her wrist, and almost as long as her forearm. It curled around his uppermost rib and had its spines deeply embedded in the bone.

It also moved, squirming away from their attention with vigour.

One of the students had to go excuse themselves.

“Just…grab it?” Maggie asked.

“Just grab it,” Pines growled. “Get it out, before it gets worse.”

The surgeon only hesitated for a moment before they grabbed at the thing, shoving their hand straight up under the ribs, but the worm squirmed away. It broke off several spines and slithered out of the surgeon’s grip, down through the lung it had already passed through, tearing the hole much bigger as it went.

“Fuck! Get it!” the surgeon exclaimed.

Maggie grabbed a scalpel and stabbed at it, to which it reacted by wiggling behind the spine. Pines growled loudly and suddenly, and there was a sharp sound of something cracking. It might have been one of his fingers where he clenched them against the table.

The surgeon dived for the worm and just got their hands on it before it could disappear through the diaphragm, whereupon Maggie stabbed it through the middle.

It violently tied itself into a knot a few times, spraying goop and blood everywhere, before it finally stilled.

The surgeon picked the worm up and put it in a tray.

“You missed a few pieces,” Pines said, and then they all watched as he stuck his hand into his own chest and pulled out the spikes stuck in his ribs.

He dropped the spines on the table and let his hand flop back down.

“If you don’t mind,” he said, “I’m going to pass out now.”

No one particularly felt like objecting.

They all took a few moments to gather themselves before they put their tools down and started looking for the needle and thread.

“Do we even need to stitch him back up?” one of the students asked. “He did say healing factor.”

“Yes he did,” Maggie said, and pointed to the edges of his wounds, which were slowly starting to knit themselves together. “He was probably right too, but we don’t know what he is, we don’t know what this thing’s done to him, his entire ribcage’s cut open, and he’s passed out on the operating table. We’ve all heard stories of people with broken legs who think they can walk it off. Never take a patient on their word that they’ll be fine unless you’re sure yourself, and this time we’re not.”

“We stitch him up,” the surgeon continued, “as best as we can, and then we keep him under observation until he either wakes up or we’re sure he’s stable, to make sure there are no complications. If he’s fine when he does, he can walk.”

With that, they started putting him back together. Or trying to. Maggie picked up a big piece of unidentifiable something that had been thrown around during their chase through his chest cavity, shared an awkward glance with the surgeon, and dropped it somewhere around where the lungs should be. He was still breathing, somehow, when they were done, so they assumed it could have been worse.

---

People on the street were staring. Of course people were staring, they were making a spectacle of themselves.

Lolonja sighed deeply and massaged her face with a hand, but said nothing. At least the hands were nice, if unusual. This whole situation was unusual.

The Master was unwell. That was the most unusual part of all. It happened, but very rarely and never for long. This thing that had infected him and tried to steal his power had left traces, and this time he needed time to recover.

She understood the instinct, to steal power. Anyone who had ever lived wild in the Mindscape would. Still, the mere concept that something so small could even dare to harm her Master made her angry. She was glad it was dead now. It deserved nothing better.

Most of her siblings seemed to agree.

The Master was unwell, but he was also recovering steadily, and at the moment he was staying in a human hospital. This was unusual, but also an opportunity, so Lolonja and several of her flockmates decided to go visit him, because that was what people did when their loved ones were hospitalized.

Unfortunately, the hospital did not admit animals. As a workaround, someone had the bright idea to disguise themselves as humans. Lolonja probably should have realized from the start how badly they would end up messing that up.

None of them looked human, that was for sure.

Groknar (the Destroyer) was a little over two and a half meters tall, had arms as wide around as an average child, skin as black as coal, dangerously sharp teeth and a set of ram’s horns on his head. Star (the Survivor) was about one forty, snow white skin with golden highlights in her hair, three fingers on each hand, a short tail and eyes that were bright blue from edge to edge.

No one else were much better. Lolonja admitted that the hooves she were walking on were not very human-like, but at least her eyes had pupils. Incandescence, who after an incident a few weeks after she joined the Flock would never again take a human-like form, walked beside the small group as a large, neon, rainbow-coloured poodle.

People were staring, and whispering. She swivelled an ear (also not human?) to listen. Everyone seemed to realize they were not human immediately, so that was a moot point. On the other hand, no one seemed to realize what exactly they were. Guesses circled around some kind of satyr subspecies, which was good enough.

Either way, the hospital came up in front of them, and they walked in.

They crowded around the front desk once it was clear, looming just a little over the receptionist, except for the couple of dreams, who could just barely look over the counter.

The receptionist’s eyes widened steadily as he looked between them, and he started smelling slightly of fear. “Can I help you?” he asked.

“We are intending to pay someone a visit,” said Devil’s Child, attempting to give a reassuring smile.

The receptionist flinched back at the sight of a mouthful of needle-sharp teeth. “Okay,” he said, swallowing. “Who?”

Devil’s Child seemed to realize that he was not being reassuring, so he licked his lips with a forked tongue and tried to hide his teeth a little more when he continued. “He is likely checked in under the name Tyrone Pines, after an urgent surgery. It would please us if you would tell us where to find him.”

The receptionist gave another nervous glance at the sharp quills sticking out of Devil’s Child’s hair before he started tapping away at his computer. After a few seconds of that, he looked back up at them. “So, er, you’re his… friends?”

“He is our Master,” said Baaasly.

Lolonja punched him in the side and hissed, “You don’t say that to a human!”

The receptionist paled, and she cringed before glaring back at Baaasly. Baaasly just looked confused.

“Why not?” he asked.

“Humans get twitchy about the ethics of person ownership,” she said. “They tend to react badly to that.”

“How come?” Thalia said, looking up through the bright pink curls that hung in front of her eyes (and grew down her spine and arms.) “It’s not like humans can even own each other. They don’t work like that.”

“One day,” Lolonja sighed, “I’ll have to sit you all down with a history book and teach you some things about humans.”

She glared for another second, (and punched Killer in the ribs for good measure, as she had mostly been snickering and not helping at all,) before she shook her head and caught the receptionist’s eyes. “It’s a… mutually beneficial arrangement,” she said. “Don’t worry. We’d just like to know where we can find him?”

“A- ah, yes,” the receptionist said. “I, uh, I have the room number here. Just, er, you’re not allowed to bring animals?” he gestured at Incandescence.

Incandescence sat back on her haunches and looked very petulant. “But I don’t want to wait outside,” she said.

“I… guess you’re not an animal, then.” He looked just a little shaken, but he did eventually give them the number and instructions as to how to get to the room, and they smiled their thanks and left.

The next obstacle they met was the elevator.

Killer read the sign saying how much weight it could take, took a quick headcount, and crossed her arms (and claws). “We’re not all going to fit,” she said.

The group exchanged looks.

“I… suppose we could split up…” Lolonja suggested, dubiously.

They exchanged a few more looks before everyone ended up looking at Star and Thalia, their two bright, small, breakable dreams that had insisted on coming along and should definitely not be left alone in any way for any amount of time, lest they may get hurt.

“Stairs,” Groknar said.

“Stairs,” Lolonja agreed.

They took the stairs.

They found the room just as a nurse was exiting it. She closed the door, preoccupied by her tablet, turned around, and stood face to face with the group of disguised sheep.

She opened her mouth and made a choked squeaking noise. Then she closed it again. “Sorry,” she said. “Didn’t see you there. Can I help you with anything?”

“We are just here to visit Mister Pines,” Lolonja said before anyone else could say anything.

The nurse swept her eyes over them and cringed a little. “There is a visitation limit of three people, I’m afraid,” she said. “Some of you are going to have to wait outside.”

They looked blankly at her, and she faltered.

“I… really don’t think there’s enough room for all of you,” she said.

“It will work,” Groknar said, crossing his arms.

She swallowed, and stepped away from the door so they could pass.

The room fit them all easily enough, though it did look as if it was a little bigger than it should be, almost as if someone had changed its dimensions from the inside. The Master looked up at them from the bed, a book open in his lap, and he had a look of utter amusement on his face.

“Did you guys walk here like this?” he asked.

Incandescence jumped straight onto his bed, tail wagging like an electric fan, and licked his mouth. He grinned and pulled away just enough to give her a hug and bury his face in her fur instead.

“We did!” she said. “We got some very funny looks and Lolonja was sighing all the time, are you okay?”

He laughed. “I’m perfectly alright. I just need to wait until the block on my power disappears on its own, since I can’t burn it out myself without taking half the city with me. I’m not actually in any trouble. I hope you didn’t worry.”

“Of course not,” Lolonja said. “We just wanted to visit and bring you some snacks.”

Then they crowded closer around him and handed him what they had brought of chocolate, cookies, chocolate chip cookies, and the jar of pickled eyeballs from his pantry in the Mindscape.

At some point as they sat there in what was basically a pile on his bed, another nurse came into the room, looked at them, and backed out slowly.

They barely noticed. Hospital visits were fun; they should do them more often.

#transcendence au #My writing #tw blood #tw parasites #tw gore

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tardisgirlepic · 8 years ago

Text

Ch. 1: “Oxygen” Analysis Doctor Who S10.5: Blindness, Moral Bankruptcy, Dying Well

I don’t have much time to write, but I wanted to post something. This is just going to be a bunch of thoughts, so you’ll have to excuse the flow. Things really are happening at breakneck speed in Season 10 because there is so much story left to tell that has been in the subtext for the 12th Doctor for many years. I’m really concerned about how this will play out because I’m feeling like we are going to get shortchanged, as everything is getting very condensed since Capaldi is leaving.

The 12th Doctor, the Fluid Link & the 1st Doctor

We know the Doctor lies, but the 12th Doctor seems to be taking deceitfulness to new heights in “Oxygen.”

NARDOLE: Fluid link K57. Removed it from the Tardis the other night after your lecture.

(Ah, the good old fluid link. Does it need any mercury this time?)

DOCTOR: That is very untrusting.

NARDOLE: You took an oath, sir. The vault cannot be unguarded.

DOCTOR: Oh, listen to Mister Boring.

NARDOLE: I'm acting under your orders!

DOCTOR: See how reliable I am?

BILL: What's a fluid link?

NARDOLE: No idea. But the Tardis can't go anywhere without it.

DOCTOR: Who told you that?

NARDOLE: You did.

DOCTOR: Exactly. (snaps his fingers) Teach you to trust me.

Actually, the heights aren’t new. He’s acting like the 1st Doctor did, especially in the very 1st Dalek story “The Daleks” where the fluid link (K7) first shows up. (The 1st Doctor really does have to show up with all the 1st Doctor references we’ve been getting. I’ve only mentioned a few to you.)

It’s in “The Daleks” where the Doctor looks totally devious, as he tells Ian, Barbara, and Susan that he needs mercury for the link, which he says most likely would be in the Dalek city on Skaro. It was a ploy, so he could investigate the city. The 4 of them are subjected to the radiation the Daleks unleash when they explode neutron bombs. Strange things soon start happening to them, especially Susan and the TARDIS in subsequent episodes.

At the beginning of “Oxygen,” the 12th Doctor is mirroring, to a great extent, the 1st Doctor.

In the 2nd Dalek story, the Daleks are using humans to build human cyborgs that look like they would become the forerunners to the old Cybermen. However, the Doctor intervenes and takes control of them.

Capitalism Runs Amok Again

“Oxygen,” for one thing, is an allegory of capitalism taken too far where human life has no value at all. This becomes the end point where capitalism dies. Continuing in the vein of episodes, such as “Thin Ice” and “Sleep No More,” “Oxygen” shows us a situation of moral bankruptcy. This time Ganymede Systems charges its workers for the oxygen they use. When the workers become a liability, the company kills them.

I keep coming back to my question of whether Caecilius, who in “The Fires of Pompeii,” wanted to get rich. Did the 10th Doctor sparing him cause this and other problems in the universe? In fact, the subtext in many episodes says that the Doctor, as a human, is responsible for building dangerous machines or businesses and putting profits over people or other sentient beings. Here are just a few examples:

“A Town Called Mercy”

For example, we saw that Kahler-Jex was a mirror of the Doctor in “A Town Called Mercy.” Jex used deceitfulness to trick Academy students into volunteering for what they thought were peacekeeping missions. However, he turned them into cyborg war machines.

“The Next Doctor”

In another example, in “The Next Doctor” both the 10th Doctor and Jackson Lake, who thinks he is the next Doctor (and really is a mirror of the Doctor), are ironmongers in an episode where Cybermen as well as child slaves are helping to build a giant CyberKing Dreadnought-class ship. Here’s the 10th Doctor next to the Ironmongery sign.

Here’s Jackson Lake below with a different Ironmongery sign next to him.

“Human Nature”

In a third example this time from “Human Nature,” we see an Ironmongers sign next to the 10th Doctor and Joan.

“Deep Breath”

Yet another example comes from “Deep Breath,” where the 12th Doctor talks about the metalwork of the half-faced man.

DOCTOR: Well, it would need a constant supply of spare parts. You can tan skin, but organs rot. Some of that metalwork looks Roman. Wonder how long it's been around, how much of the original is even left? The eyeballs look very fresh, though.

Here’s a reference most likely to Caecilius and “The Fires of Pompeii.” Roman metalwork could also be a reference to the Roman god Vulcan, which we’ll examine in a few minutes.

“Oxygen”

Even “Oxygen” provides examples. In fact, the SmartSuits are labeled “Ganymede Systems Series Twelve SmartSuit.” Twelve is an important number here, referring to the 12th Doctor. In fact, in a similar way that we saw him mirroring the Emojibot from “Smile” and Rory mirroring Rorybot from “The Girl Who Waited,” the 12th Doctor is mirroring the suit, shown below. Of course, suit has a dual meaning: the actual SmartSuit and the business people at Ganymede Systems, who are exploiting their workers and killing them. As a human, the Doctor did some things he would never dream of as a Time Lord.

However, the Doctor, playing multiple parts, also mirrors the zombie in the SmartSuit, shown below. Check out how the tilt of his head matches the zombie, someone who is being controlled. This suggests, like so many other things we’ve seen, that the Doctor is being controlled.

This all is not surprising, as we’ve seen how the Doctor, before waking up through the Great Work, was used to do some terrible things in the subtext. Through “Oxygen,” you can see some of the terrible things he was made to do, like killing people through the SmartSuits.

Other Examples

Some of the villains like John Lumic of Cybus Industries are mirrors of the Doctor in the subtext. They build up large corporations who take advantage of people. Newton in The Man Who Fell to Earth built up a monopoly in many areas in order to fund his ship to return to his people. Is this similar to what happened to the Doctor?

Building the Stone Computer: Gallifrey & the Library

I believe the whole capitalism gone amok idea idea plays into building the stone computer, which on Gallifrey turns on the people who built it. It’s a theme that was played out in “Smile” with the Emojibots and Vardy.

Either a mention of the stone computer/circuit board or imagery of one shows up in at least 3 episodes. In “The Fires of Pompeii,” Caecilius is a marble tradesman who mines, polishes, and designs the stone. He makes stone circuit boards to meet the chief augur’s specifications. Then, during “Forest of the Dead,” we see a different stone circuit board behind River when she dies in the Library. Most important, the Doctor talks about a database and stone circuit boards in “Hell Bent” when he and Clara are in the Cloisters on Gallifrey.

A Cybus Industries Cyberman reaches for Clara in the Cloisters.

DOCTOR: Keep away from them! The Matrix can use them as a defence. It means the secret exit must be close.

CLARA: What's to defend in a crypt?

DOCTOR: It's not just a crypt. More like a stone circuit board. This is the Matrix database.

(They arrive at an area with a glowing interlocking circles pattern on the floor without actually noticing. Clara stands in the middle of it.)

CLARA: Database? What do you mean, database?

(The Doctor realises where she's standing.)

A short time later, the Doctor finishes his thought:

DOCTOR: When Time Lords die, their minds are uploaded to a thing called the Matrix. This structure, it's like a living computer. It can predict the future, generate prophecies out of algorithms, ring the Cloister bells in the event of impending catastrophe. The Sliders, they're just like the guard dogs, the firewall. Projections from inside the Matrix itself. The dead, manning the battlements.

CLARA: Was I supposed to understand any of that?

DOCTOR: The Time Lords have got a big computer made of ghosts, in a crypt, guarded by more ghosts.

Before all of this above, the Doctor and Clara come across an entangled Dalek.

DALEK: Exterminate me.

CLARA: Is it trapped?

DOCTOR: Don't worry, it's been neutralised. Those aren't vines. In your terms, they're fibre-optic cables, they're alive and growing. We're inside the biggest database in history.

The implication is that the stone computer ties together the 3 episodes. In fact, while Gallifrey has the biggest database in history, the Library planet has the biggest hard drive, as the Doctor says in “Silence in the Library.”

DOCTOR: It's a world. Literally, a world. The whole core of the planet is the index computer. Biggest hard drive ever. And up here, every book ever written. Whole continents of Jeffrey Archer, Bridget Jones, Monty Python's Big Red Book. Brand new editions, specially printed.

While the largest database in history does not necessarily mean it needs the largest hard drive, I’m taking it as such. The Library and Gallifrey would then be mirrors, which aren’t surprising, since we saw that both the Library and Gallifrey were part of the Eye of Harmony.

Because Caecilius (the Doctor enslaved) helped build stone circuit boards, the Doctor most likely helped build the stone computer on Gallifrey. Not only that, he helped build up society whether it was in Pompeii or on Gallifrey. How much did he contribute to building the corrupt system when he was enslaved?

How Much Does the Doctor Know Ahead of Time?

In “Oxygen,” the Doctor lectures about space, instead of crop rotation, and Nardole sees the warning signs. Also, the Doctor knows about the distress call from the space base when he asks Bill to choose where to go in space. However, does he know about it when he lectures about space? There may very well be more than it seems that is pulling the Doctor to take off in the TARDIS with Bill.

He doesn’t refuse the distress call, so he actually is in a Catch-22 situation about leaving Earth possibly open to attack or definitely letting people on the station die. However, the situation has a broader implication, reaching across galaxies.

NARDOLE: Is that really the best you've got? Revenge?

DOCTOR: Not just revenge. It's revenge as bright as the sun. It's revenge you can see across galaxies! Not bad for a blind man.

So is the Doctor having to decide Earth vs. many planets and multiple galaxies? The subtext suggests that he knows there’s something he has to fix, so he takes the chance.

Interestingly, at the end of the episode, the Doctor talks about what he remembers of the resolution of capitalism gone amok. We learn the revolt against corruption was a fixed point in history.

(The Doctor is sitting with his feet up on his desk, wearing his shades and playing with a yellow yo-yo - not very well, truth be told.)

BILL: Does it work?

DOCTOR: Does what work?

BILL: Making a complaint to Head Office.

DOCTOR: No idea. Never had a head office. But as far as I remember, there's a successful rebellion six months later. Corporate dominance in space is history, and that about wraps it for capitalism.

Are the other station crew really dead? Because I found this exchange below quite odd.

NARDOLE: There's nothing we can do! She's dead.

DOCTOR: She's no more dead than you are. Than I am. Than everyone on this station is. Get me to a keyboard.

Is he only talking about those living? It doesn’t sound like it to me. If not, what happened to the other people?

Part of the Plan & Whose Fault?

Once again, we see a horse in the episode, shown below, this time in the TARDIS, so going to the mining station is part of the rescue plan. Interestingly, the horse is on the other side of the divider from Bill, and there’s a blurry part on the right side of the image. The Ghost may be the Architect here, or whatever is in the Vault. From the trailer, it does sound like Missy is in the Vault. However, is it really that simple? Right now, I suspect it isn’t.

It’s interesting that Nardole brings up the whole not-your-fault about what he assumes was Bill’s death to which the Doctor responds

NARDOLE: Doctor, it wasn't your fault. You couldn't have saved her!

DOCTOR: You know what's wrong with this universe? Believe me, I've looked into it. Everyone says it's not their fault. Well, yes, it is. All of it. It's all your fault. So, what are you going to do about it?

NARDOLE: There's nothing we can do! She's dead.

DOCTOR: She's no more dead than you are. Than I am. Than everyone on this station is. Get me to a keyboard.

Is the Doctor speaking literally when he says it’s Nardole’s fault? Or is it figuratively, meaning himself, as Nardole is a face of the Doctor? Or maybe everyone is complicit, as in one is either part of the problem or part of the solution? I’m taking it as all of the above, referring not just to Bill’s apparent death at the time, but also to the whole capitalistic system gone awry.

He’s taking responsibility for what he did in the past by answering the distress call, but he’s impulsive and very emotional, which can lead to other issues. Also, he takes responsibility for Bill’s terrible situation and risks his own life by giving her his helmet.

More Racism, Species-ism, Etc.

Racism and species-ism come up as our continuing themes. In a twist, Bill is accused of being a racist by Dahh-ren for her reaction to his blueness. Also of interest are the Doctor’s questions about the AI in the suits:

DOCTOR: But can they learn? Evolve? Grow? Maybe get tired of carrying pesky humans around? Know the feeling?

(Nardole nods, and Bill is taken aback.)

It’s probably a reference to the Star Whale being a slave to humans, as well as the Emojibots and Vardies.

Broken Promises, Devastating Consequences & Blindness

Once again, we see the Doctor yearning to be out among the stars when he’s looking out his office window. The urge to leave Earth is just too much for him. As we saw above, it’s part of the rescue plan, and once again he breaks his promise in order to rescue people from a system that has become corrupt to the point of moral bankruptcy. If he did help create the system that he is now railing against, he would feel especially responsible for fixing the problems.

Since Earth can be a metaphor for himself, leaving it vulnerable means he could also be placing others before himself. I don’t mean to suggest that he is always totally selfless; we know he’s not. However, I believe the situation is not as simple as it looks. And he is being driven, in part, by other motives that are more obscure than the text suggests.

Regardless, he and Bill suffered devastating consequences, just as the subtext in the previous episodes said would happen. The Doctor, for once, is not immune, just as the landlord wasn’t. Is the Doctor’s blindness really permanent? It doesn’t look like it from the trailers for the season. Will the Doctor do a partial regeneration to heal his eyes? That seems likely from the trailers, or is the Doctor able to use some other method to see?

How will what happened affect the Doctor and Bill’s relationship? Nardole and Bill’s relationship? Nardole and the Doctor’s relationship?

It’s a Good Day to Die

The Doctor wanting to die well and make his death have a lot of meaning does go along with him dying in battle like Nelson’s falling column suggested. If not a battle, per se, he will go out fighting like he was doing in “Oxygen.” Whatever he will do, the foreshadowing here suggests his death will be big and make a big statement.

Ganymede Has Multiple Meanings

In “Oxygen,” Ganymede Systems is the company that created the SmartSuits. However, Ganymede has other meanings that have importance to the Doctor. Besides referring to the largest moon of Jupiter, Ganymede is the name of a divine hero in Greek mythology who was the subject of a painting by Rembrandt (so is connected to the Doctor) and a character in a Shakespearean play, which also has multiple ties to the Doctor. Additionally, there is a connection to the Vatican, and in the next episode, the clips show the Pope.

The Divine Greek Mythological Hero

Ganymede, who was thought to be the most beautiful mortal, was a descendant of river gods. In one source of the myth, Zeus spotted Ganymede herding his sheep on a mountain and abducted him for his beauty. Either Zeus turned into an eagle or summoned one to fly the youth to Mount Olympus. Ganymede became the cupbearer to the gods on Mount Olympus and gained immortality, the only one of Zeus’ lovers to do so. Zeus later put Ganymede in the sky as the constellation Aquarius, which is associated with that of the Eagle (Aquila). It’s another form of immortality.

Gaining immortality is suggested in “Oxygen” when the Doctor is looking at one of the zombies (red arrow), shown below, who was killed by his SmartSuit. And he quotes the First Epistle to the Corinthians from the New Testament: “Death, where is thy sting?”

I Corinthians 15: 54-57

54. So when this corruptible shall have put on incorruption, and this mortal shall have put on immortality, then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written, Death is swallowed up in victory.

55. O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?

The Doctor, Rembrandt, and The Abduction of Ganymede

Interestingly, Ganymede is the subject of a 1635 painting by Rembrandt, and we’ve already seen that the Doctor is associated with Rembrandt. Because of this connection, Ganymede and the painting become very important. Rembrandt painted The Abduction of Ganymede, which, shown below, shows the eagle carrying an unwilling Ganymede to Mount Olympus. The master painter chose to make Ganymede a young child, dispensing with the homosexual nature of the myth.

Rembrandt’s initial sketch informs us of the changes he made in the painting. Initially, there were people below, who were trying to reach for the child. However, in the painting, Rembrandt omitted them. Instead, the child’s abduction brings darkness and despair on the Earth. The interpretation of the painting is that the child was abducted from life too soon.

Is this abduction connected to the one we saw with the 10th Doctor and the abducted Scottish boy in “Tooth and Claw”? Whom the subtext suggests is the Doctor or a face of the Doctor.

Does the Doctor’s blindness represent the darkness and despair in the painting?

Ganymede & Shakespeare

I’ve been wondering about mistaken identity for a while in DW, and Ganymede shows up in Shakespeare’s As You Like It, which is a comedy of mistaken identity. Rosalind, the heroine, dresses up as a boy, Ganymede. According to Wikipedia, “She plays on her ambiguous charm to seduce Orlando, but also (involuntarily) the shepherdess Phebe. Thus behind the conventions of Elizabethan theater in its original setting, the young boy playing the girl Rosalind dresses up as a boy and is then courted by another boy playing Phebe.”

The themes of the play are love, usurpation and injustice, forgiveness, and court life vs. country life. The play is also a religious allegory to Eden.

So is there mistaken identity going on in DW? Since the subtext suggests the Doctor was duplicated in “The Zygon Invasion” and “The Zygon Inversion,” it’s possible.

Also, mistaken identity could have to do with the Doctor having to hide himself as a human. In fact, not only does Missy say the Doctor was a little girl, the 10th Doctor’s own watch with his Time Lord consciousness in “Human Nature” had the female voice say, “Merge with the faces of men,” as we saw in my meta/handbook Fairytales and Romance “Chapter 10: Explaining the Doctor Who 2016 Christmas Special 2nd Trailer.” What exactly does that mean? The subtext suggests the Doctor is hiding his true identity.

Also, the 12th Doctor episode “In the Forest of the Night” has little Maebh Arden talking to the trees that magically grew overnight. The Arcadian Forest of Arden is the magical setting of As You Like It. Arcadia happens to be the Gallifreyan city that people thought was the safest city on the planet during the Time War. An allusion to the Garden of Eden is also in this episode

MINISTER [on TV} The Government emergency committee, COBRA, has formulated an action plan. We will create pathways through the trees using carefully controlled fires. This will facilitate the movement of essential services.

COBRA is a reference to the snake in Eden, of course. The committee would have destroyed Earth if the plan had worked.

Ganymede and the Vatican

Since the Vatican is involved in the upcoming episode “Extremis,” the Vatican connection may be important with Ganymede. In a Vatican museum, there is a 2nd century Roman copy of the eagle and Ganymede sculpted in marble, which was created from a bronze original by Leochares of the 4th century BCE. Does the death of capitalism or Ganymede Systems have something to do with the Vatican and what is going on?

Does mistaken identity have some other significance?

Mistaken identity must be important because in “Face the Raven,” we see mistaken identity with a link to Season 10 episode “The Pilot.”

“Face the Raven”

In “Face the Raven,” we first see Anah, who supposedly died, inside some odd stasis device.

The Doctor has a conversation about her:

DOCTOR: She's a Janus.

ASHILDR: She escaped slavery. She fled here with her child.

DOCTOR: The child. A daughter?

ASHILDR: No, a boy.

CLARA: Is that bad?

DOCTOR: No, it's not bad, it's just unhelpful. A daughter might've seen who killed her mother.

(The Doctor nods to the back of Anah's head. Clara steps forward to see a second face there.)

DOCTOR: The female Janus is psychic. One face sees into the future, the other looks behind her, into the past.

CLARA: I think we saw her son outside.

A short time later, we learn about the mistaken identity when Clara and the Doctor talk to Anahson, shown below.

(Clara and Anahson are sitting on the settee.)

CLARA: She dressed you as a boy to protect you, but really you're a girl. You have the gift.

ANAHSON: It is no gift. I'm safe as a boy. This is the first place I've ever been safe, and you want me to throw it away? To admit what I am?

Anah and Anahson are both mirrors of the Doctor because they both can see into the past and future, like he can. BTW, adding “son” to Anah is a very Norse way of naming boy children. Anah and Anahson add more proof to Missy’s claim that the Doctor used to be a little girl, who may have had to hide as a boy.

BTW, before the Doctor, Clara, and Rigsy find Trap Street, we see a statue of anti-slavery campaigner John Batchelor.

“The Pilot”

In “The Pilot,” Heather is in the puddle on the strange Ood-like planet. The subtext says she is a Janus because she has 2 faces (red and yellow arrows) like Anah and Anahson. This isn’t surprising. All 3 characters are mirrors of the Doctor.

Crustaceans: The World Is Your Oyster

The Doctor said, “The universe is your crustacean.” That’s an odd statement. The crustacean is an interesting choice of words. It does relate to fish and sea creatures. Also, it relates to the wood lice in “Knock Knock,” since they are non-aquatic crustaceans, related to crabs, lobsters, shrimp, etc.

From the context, I gather the Doctor is referring to the line from Shakespeare’s The Merry Wives of Windsor, “The world is your oyster.” He’s in the position to offer people opportunities that life has to offer.

“He’s In Section 12”

When Nardole told Bill the Doctor paid a price for giving Bill his helmet, he told Bill, “He’s in Section 12.” The AI then targeted Section 12. However, does this have a broader meaning? Especially with the possible mistaken identity? This might be likely.

When we are talking about learning to read subtext, we have to consider that references may have broader meanings in the bigger context. It’s just a hypothesis right now.

NARDOLE: Listen, about the Doctor. He walked in a vacuum for far too long. He's mostly okay but, he paid a price.

BILL: What do you mean?

NARDOLE: He's in Section Twelve.

The SmartSuits have heard that. They register Nardole’s line, shown below, and search for Section 12 on their internal maps.

I can’t help but think this means more than we think. Does it mean the hidden identity of the Doctor, a face of the Doctor, or someone close to him is foreshadowed to be discovered in canon?

Nardole

Nardole gave us some interesting information about himself. How much is real? And how much is a joke?

He got his face on the run.

NARDOLE: I haven't seen my true face in years. Swapped it for this one on the run.

He seems to know Velma, the voice of the SmartSuit, and seems to have dated her.

NARDOLE: Ooo, recognise that voice. Yes! Nice girl, actress, bit orange. Left me for an AI in a call centre.

Nardole talks about stealing.

NARDOLE: What are you mining? Is it worth stealing?

ABBY: You think this is a robbery?

DOCTOR: Well, killing you'd be a good start if it was.

NARDOLE: It's how I'd do it.

(They all stare at Nardole.)

NARDOLE: If I was to do that sort of thing. Which, actually, I probably wouldn't, so please don't worry.

What is clear is that he is the conscience of the Doctor.

Star Trek & “Frontier in Space”

The opening line to “Oxygen,” is the beginning of the line from the opening credits of Star Trek: “Space, the final frontier.” In “Under the Lake” and “Before the Flood,” we saw how the original Star Trek series was referenced in the mural on the wall and the Enterprise-B was referenced in the flood door.

The opening line in “Oxygen” most likely is also a reference to the 3rd Doctor story “Frontier in Space.” In the story, the Master is working to provoke an all-out war between Earth and Draconia, and the Doctor is caught up in a web of intrigue.

Is Missy and/or the Master working to provoke an all-out war? It certainly seems that way. Using Clara, Missy pushed the Doctor over the edge. Therefore, Missy has been controlling the Doctor for quite some time, steering him toward revolt and the events outlined in the Ood episodes.

Why Star Trek?

The Doctor (as Caecilius) is a marble craftsman, and the 10th Doctor is associated with ironmongery. Both trades are associated with the Roman God Vulcan or the Greek equivalent, Hephaestus, who is the god of fire, metalworking, stone masonry, forges, the art of sculpture, and blacksmiths. Hephaestus’ symbols include the hammer, anvil, tongs, and volcano.

Wikipedia says, “In Greek mythology, Hephaestus was the son of Zeus and Hera, the king and queen of the gods. In another version, he was Hera's parthenogenous child, rejected by his mother because of his deformity and thrown off Mount Olympus and down to earth.”

Zeus’ and Hera’s Roman counterparts are Jupiter (here’s a connection to Ganymede) and Juno.

Hephaestus is lame, and he is known by many epithets, one of which is "renowned artificer."

“Artificer” is an interesting archaic word that describes how the 12th Doctor in “The Caretaker” described himself to the Skovox Blitzer.

DOCTOR: Stop! Skovox Blitzer!

BLITZER: Awaiting orders.

DOCTOR: Superior Skovox Artificer. Analyse stop analyse stop.

BLITZER: Superior recognised. Pattern one one oh, Orders orders.

The word means a skilled craftsman or inventor.

The Doctor, therefore, is associated with Vulcan and Hephaestus, and, of course, the volcano.

Caecilius bought the TARDIS in “The Fires of Pompeii” for modern art, which could be reference to Hephaestus and the art of sculpture. Also, tongs are interesting because tongs, a symbol of Hephaestus, are associated with the Bells of St. John and, therefore, the St John Ambulance symbol.

The Vault

So who is in the Vault? It does seem like it would be Missy, especially since she will appear in the upcoming episode. If she is in there, it would probably seem underwhelming as the Vault mystery, since we know she will be in the next episode. Or will there be a twist? Things could always be different than they appear.

#doctor who #twelfth doctor #bill potts #oxygen #clara oswald #river song #meta #nardole

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theconservativebrief · 6 years ago

Link

Late Monday evening, VII (pronounced “seven”), one of the world’s premier photojournalism agencies, discreetly posted a terse, two-sentence statement on its website announcing that Antonin Kratochvil, the famed photographer and one of the organization’s founding members, had resigned. Any further inquiries, the agency said, “should be directed to Mr. Kratochvil.”

Kratochvil’s quiet resignation came on the heels of a bombshell report in the Columbia Journalism Review by Kristen Chick, in which several women accused him of groping and intimidating a number of female colleagues. (Kratochvil continues to deny all allegations.) Her reporting also surfaced accusations against the freelance photographer Christian Rodriguez, who allegedly made unwanted sexual advances toward women and pressured them to let him take nude photos of them; and detailed allegations of rampant sexual misconduct at the Eddie Adams Workshop, which serves as an important learning space for young photojournalists.

Over five months, Chick interviewed more than 50 women who collectively told a story of leading photojournalism institutions rife with bullying, where female photographers have accepted harassment as a cost of doing business, and a freelance labor pool where people are afraid to speak for fear of being labeled as difficult to work with. All of this as editors and directors have quietly “turned a blind eye.”

Almost immediately upon publication, the denials and deflections began.

When Chick reached out to editors at the organizations where this alleged harassment was happening, they denied knowing about it or downplayed the seriousness of the allegations. An editor at National Geographic said Rodriguez, the freelance photographer, was “greatly exaggerating his relationship with us,” and Chick reports that the magazine has opened an investigation. Alyssa Adams of the Eddie Adams Workshop told Chick that “[i]n the past, when [sexual harassment] wasn’t an issue … people pretty much know who the support people are, they would talk to the support people.” Now that sexual harassment was a “real issue,” she said, the workshop had created a code of conduct for its participants.

In the case of VII, Kratochvil was suspended immediately. Officially, VII says it knew nothing: “the circumstances surrounding the allegation of physical molestation made in the [CJR] article against founding member Antonin Kratochvil were shocking to us.” However, in a detailed follow-up to Chick’s article, Diane Smyth of the British Journal of Photography argues that the agency was aware of accusations against Kratochvil and others for some time. These discrepancies have yet to be officially addressed.

There were stories about the toxic culture of photojournalism before Chick’s reporting, including recent articles that brought down the famed sports photographer Bill Frakes and National Geographic editor Patrick Witty. But nothing was as comprehensive and pointed as Chick’s piece. After witnessing a wave wash over Hollywood, the media, politics, and corporate America, Chick’s story should have hastened our industry’s own #MeToo moment. That hasn’t happened — and the reason is bigger than a few bad actors.

When an industry is as dominated by men at every level and at nearly every major institution, a toxic culture toward women is the inevitable result. Thus, it’s disappointing but not surprising that many in the photojournalist community — whose job, ironically, is to bear witness to injustice in the world — want very much to look away.

As a photojournalist and Vox’s visuals editor, I notice one thing at every major Senate hearing: the glaring gender imbalance of the photographic press. In a cluster of several dozen men, I can usually count about three to five women.

Facebook CEO Mark Zuckerberg arrives to testify before a joint hearing of the Senate Judiciary and Commerce Committees on April 10, 2018. Tom Williams/CQ Roll Call

The Washington press corps is illustrative of the industry more broadly. An internal report by the Associated Press, one of the world’s largest news photo agencies, found that 86 percent of its photo staff around the world are men. (Nearly 80 percent of its US photo staff are white.) The pool of Reuters staff photographers and contributors, which totals around 600, is 80 percent male. (Getty Images, another leading photo agency, declined to comment on its diversity numbers.)

Women Photograph has been collecting data on who is credited with the photos on the front pages of major newspapers around the world. Last year, men took an overwhelming majority of lead photographs in the eight largest English-language newspapers.

Christina Animashaun/Vox

From any angle, the number of women behind the camera is small. And, alarmingly, the number is getting smaller: Between 1999 and 2015, the number of women photojournalists at US newspapers fell by nearly half — from 1,536 to 783, according to the American Society of News Editors.

Since 2000, only four women have won a Pulitzer Prize for breaking news photography, and three of them shared the prize with a man. (We omitted entries won by a newsroom staff.) Over the past 60 years, only eight women received the Pulitzer for feature photography, while six women have received the Pulitzer for breaking news photography. Since 1955, the World Press Photograph of the Year has gone to only four women. In 2018, 85 percent of the entrants for the World Press Photo Awards, photojournalism’s biggest international honors, were men.

These numbers are damning for an industry responsible for visually representing the world and its most vulnerable people.

“It’s more than just different chromosomes and skin colors in the room — it’s different ways of seeing the world,” says Andrew Mendelson, an associate dean at the CUNY Graduate School of Journalism in New York. “If women are only shown as victims of conflict as opposed to having agency, then that might limit the way they see their role in shaping the world.”

Think about some of the most iconic images of the 20th century: Eddie Adams in Vietnam, Kevin Carter’s image of a Sudanese child being stalked by a vulture, John Filo at Kent State; what does it mean for us to see our world mostly from the point of view of white men?

I was 21, smoking a joint and poring over Inferno, a book of brutal images from global conflicts by the renowned war photographer James Nachtwey. It captured some of the darkest corners of humanity — civil wars, famine, crushing poverty — but they were making an argument: Do not look away. I was transfixed, and I didn’t want to be a bystander. It was the moment I decided to become a photojournalist.

Nachtwey, as it happens, was a founding member of VII and integral to shaping its editorial focus. He is one of the living legends of photojournalism, but the longer I’ve been in the industry, the more I see how his life’s work also demonstrates the myopias of our profession. There is a style of photography that he popularized — dramatic, high-contrast, black and white, almost always depicting someone in a moment of desperation. It’s a style that invokes urgency to the audience, but also a sense of remove. He’s applied this style to impoverished brown children, people with heroin addiction, and survivors of war, and because that aesthetic won awards, it became widely imitated.

“I hate to say white men shoot all one way, because they don’t,” said Nina Berman, an acclaimed documentary photographer and associate professor at the Columbia University Graduate School of Journalism. “But there is a style of photography created and championed over the years that valued specific methods of working, aesthetics, and distance.”

She went on: “It’s basically an othering that comes from the belief that the man behind the camera has a privileged artistic sense, an inherent superiority despite rarely knowing the local language, or living in the region or neighborhood he’s covering, or having any sustained connection to what he’s seeing.” It’s no wonder, Berman said, that we’ve ended up homogenizing struggle with repetitive visual tropes.

That homogenization of our visual language means we have become fascinated with abjection and violence, and because those images we make have an unmistakable moral urgency, we presume that those “bearing witness” to all this darkness — to shock our consciences — must themselves be noble.

Perhaps it’s this sense of righteousness in our work that prevents us from having a consequential reckoning with the worst behavior in our field; after all, aren’t we the good ones?

Anastasia Taylor-Lind, whose photography has appeared in National Geographic and the New York Times, was in her London flat when she read Chick’s article uncovering the misconduct at VII. Chick detailed an incident at a VII event when Antonin Kratochvil “slid his hand between [Taylor-Lind’s] buttocks … and pushed it forward until he was touching her vagina over her clothing.” Taylor-Lind was stunned as she read the article: She learned that before her, Kratochvil had been accused of harassment by the respected photojournalist Stephanie Sinclair in 2008 and another woman in 2005. Taylor-Lind had thought she was the only one.

She also learned from the article that several members of VII had reportedly known about the harassment complaints against Kratochvil. “If those complaints had been taken seriously, they may have prevented me from being harassed,” she told me. “I was the youngest and only female present during that meeting. This happened on their watch.” (Sinclair officially left VII in 2016 but is bound by a nondisclosure agreement, so she didn’t provide comment.)

It’s worth sitting in Taylor-Lind’s revelation for a moment: If this can happen for years to some of the most respected women in photojournalism without consequence, where does that leave young freelancers coming up in our industry?

Taylor-Lind follows this thread even further. “If a man believes he has the right to touch a woman’s body without her permission in the work environment, how does that man behave if he’s working in Iraq and has an 18-year-old translator?” she wonders. “How might he behave with her? And if something happened to her, where would she go? Who would believe her? What happens when the same man has to photograph a 15-year-old girl who has been raped?”

VII did announce reforms in response to Chick’s article and they appear to be significant: along with adding more female members and a new code of ethics, it has “created an internal female-led reporting structure that can be used to report inappropriate behavior inside the agency, as well as out in the field, free of retaliation.” Other agencies have followed suit with their own attempts to protect women.

But are these correctives enough if the collateral damage is leaving a string of traumatized and diminished female photographers in their wake? If saving the reputations of a few men and photojournalism’s premier institutions comes at the cost of silencing women like Stephanie Sinclair under NDAs and deflecting responsibility, what does that say about our journalistic credibility and integrity?

Since Chick’s piece was published, Taylor-Lind says she’s been disgusted by the industry’s overall inaction. “I now understand that the most dangerous position for people to take is one of the bystander,” she said. “There are more bystanders than people who have been abused.”

One photographer told Chick that “Sinclair told her about being harassed by multiple members of VII,” but Kratochvil remains the only one named. That means there are potentially other bad actors who are being protected, and thus potentially other women who are at risk. It is ironic that Sinclair, whose work chronicles injustices toward women and girls, cannot tell her own story. The rest of us are luckier: We can choose to speak out, to ask the hard questions, to work to reshape photojournalism for a more just age. Or, at very least, not become bystanders.

Original Source -> Photojournalism needs to face its #MeToo moment

via The Conservative Brief

#IFTTT #The Conservative Brief

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takenews-blog1 · 7 years ago

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Hidden Lodge Secrets and techniques: Confessions Of Housekeeping Employees

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Hidden Lodge Secrets and techniques: Confessions Of Housekeeping Employees

As increasingly more individuals journey lately, it’s no marvel that the resort trade is now a $2.1 billion enterprise. With all of this cash, one would anticipate resort would hold its housekeeping division adequately staffed and skilled. However you may wish to suppose once more, as the typical resort maid cleans from 10 to 14 rooms every day (and normally for little or no pay). Do you actually suppose that offers them sufficient time to wash every of these rooms to an impeccable diploma?

You’re about to learn some first-hand accounts and confessions about how clear accommodations actually are, in addition to some journey ideas and memorable tales from housekeepers describing the unusual issues they generally take care of on the job. Be ready — this data ranges from the nice to the unhealthy to the downright disturbing.

Listed below are some information you may wish to contemplate the subsequent time you keep in a resort. Otherwise you may wish to overlook about them, relying on how squeamish you’re!

Everytime you look at a mattress in a resort, you see the cleanest of sheets and comforters. They seem like so clear that they seem to have a sure sparkle. Oh, wait. That’s not a sparkle, however one thing else. That sparkle might very nicely be a stain.

With so many rooms, housekeepers do not need time to scrub each single mattress linen after every visitor. Washing and drying sheets and blankets is a time-consuming job. In keeping with DailyMail, one maid confessed that stains are blotted out or patted down till the stain is barely seen. The maid additionally stated the linens are hardly modified.

Nobody desires any additional visitors sleeping in mattress with them throughout a resort keep. There’s one kind of uninvited visitor that will get on extra than simply your nerves, although. We’re speaking about these nasty little critters referred to as mattress bugs.

These little bugs could have cute-sounding names, however they’re a serious downside to accommodations when infestations occur. Mattress bugs could cause some unpleasant marks on visitors’ pores and skin as a result of they suck an individual’s blood whereas they’re sleeping. Some housekeepers went to redditand reported that the bugs come from visitors, quite than from the resort employees. This occurs as a result of bedbugs are normally present in suitcases and so they journey from suitcases to beds as soon as they’re in a resort room. As soon as an infestation occurs, it may be actually arduous to deal with.

It’s commonplace for housekeeping to wash a visitor’s rooms and loos throughout their keep at a resort. Most individuals assume that the services they’re paying for might be comparatively non-public. Company definitely wouldn’t anticipate for a stranger from housekeeping to make use of their suite’s bathroom whereas they’re cleansing the toilet space.

However human nature takes over for housekeepers similar to it does for the remaining ous. That signifies that when it’s time to go, it’s time to go. Housekeeping doesn’t have the time to go to designated employees loos each time the urge strikes. And once they’re in a visitor’s room, that rest room is each simply accessible and faster to get to. The excellent news: housekeepers are such professionals that they may be certain that every part is good and tidy once they’re finished. Company might by no means inform that they have been even in there.

Individuals go away some actually, actually bizarre stuff behind once they take a look at of a resort room. You title it, and somebody has in all probability left it behind for resort employees to find. One of the frequent issues that housekeepers discover in vacated rooms are intercourse toys. It is sensible – in spite of everything, a number of of us who keep in accommodations are there to have affairs, and who desires to carry the proof again house with them?

Greyhoundpaws shared this story on reddit: “I had a summer time job cleansing resort rooms. In the future a coworker informed me she walked into her first room that day and the very first thing she noticed, neatly organized on the desk, have been three [toys], a word saying ‘please wash :)’ and a 20 crown word (about $2). She didn’t.”

Individuals who keep at high-end accommodations normally have comfy incomes, typically ranging into the seven-figure class. These people have a tendency to decorate nicely, and is likely to be shocked to seek out out that sure resort staff may need the inclination to do some garments “purchasing” whereas cleansing their rooms.

When visitors are out and about, some housekeepers have been identified to slide on an costly article of clothes or two. It might be a once-in-a-lifetime alternative to strive on clothes by the world’s high designers. In a single excessive case, a visitor who stayed at a complicated Miami resort claims to have had a number of gadgets her dear wardrobe ($35,000 price of clothes and jewellery) stolen by the butler whose providers she’d paid the resort for!

You’ll by no means wish to bathe in a resort tub once more after this. It seems like almost each housekeeper on the market has made some type of disgusting discovery within the bathtubs of the rooms they clear. One redditor in Nevada stated “I discovered all types of bizarre stuff however the factor that takes the cake was the complete toenail of somebody’s massive toe. Discovered it within the bathtub. I nearly vomited.” Different reported discoveries embrace issues from lifeless our bodies to greens.

To make issues even worse, a examine carried out by the Journal of Microbiology discovered that “the best ranges of contamination have been within the housekeepers’ cleansing implements, together with sponges and mops—these exact same ones which can be used to wash lavatory tubs, sinks, and flooring.” This data doesn’t precisely make us wish to get right into a resort bathtub anytime quickly.

In an interview with Rooster, one resort maid shared a few of the most annoying issues she’s encountered on the job. This one was the worst of the bunch. “Poop. Heaps and plenty of poop in every single place. Within the lavatory, on the bathroom, on the toilet ground, on the carpet, the mattress, the partitions. I do not know how or why,” she stated.

Disturbingly, this explicit kind of mess is one that’s not as uncommon as you may suppose. Individuals, bear in mind to tip your resort maids! They (nicely, most of them) work very arduous for his or her cash.

You may suppose the largest hazard dealing with a resort housekeeper is likely to be inhaling cleansing fumes or encountering dirty linens. Nevertheless it seems that lots of them have handled some actually scary conditions whereas on the job.

A Redditor who goes by “allthecatsplease” shared a narrative about working as a maid in a trip cottage when she was solely 16 years outdated. She wrote that she “knocked and known as loudly earlier than I walked in. He sat there with an enormous creepy grin on his face. [I] fumbled my manner out the door, turned the colour of beetroot whereas saying sorry repeatedly. Then ran out of the home with the opposite woman who was working with me.” Who is aware of what might have occurred if she hadn’t been so quick-thinking?

Chambermaids see all kinds of individuals each day. Some visitors go to accommodations and consider that they will go away a room as messy as they need as a result of it’s not their very own residing quarters, only a place to go to the place another person will clear up.

Maids discover that some visitors are messy or impolite, whereas different visitors are very clear and well mannered. Some visitors go away their rooms pristine, as if nobody stayed there in any respect, and others go away rooms like a twister had touched down. Guess which sort of visitor resort staff desire?

You is likely to be sharing a mattress with an surprising customer…

Lodge rooms is likely to be occupied extra typically than you suppose. Returning to what was revealed earlier, the housekeepers use visitors’ bathrooms and sometimes strive on their clothes. However that’s not all — typically housekeepers have a look at resort beds as a pleasant place to take a nap.

Maids have been identified to sleep in visitors’ beds and beds in unoccupied rooms, particularly when a collection could be very massive and takes a very long time to tidy up. One maid confessed on-line to snoozing in a mattress in a big VIP room. Lodge employees is clearly not presupposed to do these kind of issues, nevertheless it occurs fairly steadily.

Redditor NovelistResearcher relayed a narrative a couple of member of the family’s expertise as a resort worker. S/he wrote: “My brother is a janitor for Vacation Inn and was as soon as known as to repair one thing in a visitor’s room whereas they have been out. He opened the door and located what gave the impression to be three new child youngsters within the mattress. Seems the outdated couple preferred Reborn dolls a lot they took them on vacation and had added “respiration” mechanisms to them so the chests would rise and fall like an actual child…”

When you’ve ever seen Reborn dolls, that they’re fairly terrifying. This bizarre discovery will need to have scared the daylights out of the worker!

A smart girl as soon as stated that individuals don’t work simply to work… individuals work in an effort to make a residing. Housekeepers who work in accommodations don’t make very a lot, as the typical earnings per yr is simply between $10,000 to $20,000. This isn’t very a lot based on as we speak’s pay requirements, however there’s an incentive for housekeepers who hold rooms clear.

Many individuals could not know this, however visitors may help resort maids get a elevate by holding their very own rooms clear. This makes it simpler on the maids and so they additionally find yourself getting a monetary profit from a visitor who’s tidy (much less time spent cleansing). Maids positively admire visitors like this, and have even been identified to argue over which rooms they get to wash.

Sure, housekeepers see nearly each scenario possible. Daytona Seashore, Florida was one of many hottest spring break locations round. From the 1960s via the 1980s, faculty college students flocked to the coastal city to drown out their school-related nervousness with large quantities of alcohol. These days, Daytona Seashore isn’t fairly the spring break hotspot however continues to be a well-liked trip vacation spot for people and felines alike. Felines?

You heard that proper. Redditor el_malamor wrote in that the resort they labored in had a hazmat staff rush to the premises after a fireplace was reported in one of many rooms. S/he wrote, “We’re all anticipating some wild and loopy Florida man meth-head motion or one thing. However as a substitute of velocity, they began charging via the smoke and bringing out tons and tons of cats. Simply tons of them.” No phrase on the situation of the kitties, nevertheless it in all probability wasn’t good.

People who work at accommodations are supposed to offer essentially the most nice expertise doable for his or her visitors. They need these visitors to come back again, and constructing a relationship with them can enhance the possibilities of a visitor returning. Though a visitor could have a nasty expertise at a specific resort or have an issue with a few of the staff, the resort employees has to maintain up the phantasm that every one is nicely.

Listed below are a few of the fibs informed be resort staff to sad visitors. Employees may inform their visitor that the entire rooms in a resort are the identical (if stated visitor is sad with the dimensions or situation of their room). The resort employees should additionally apologize even when the visitor is the one within the mistaken. Housekeeping employees and different resort staff should deeply apologize and categorical a hope that their visitor returns once more quickly.

There are a number of reviews on-line about linens, together with lavatory towels, not being cleaned correctly. A housekeeper at a complicated Orlando resort confessed in a trivago.com exposé, “I personally have by no means finished something however I heard of somebody who was so indignant a couple of impolite remark made to them that they cleaned the toilet ground with a towel and left it for the visitor as their new towel.”

And Beechmont Inns Company worker Michael Forrest Jones made this upsetting comment to the Every day Mail. “‘You realize the place you nearly at all times discover a hand towel in any recently-vacated resort room that was occupied by a man? On the ground… subsequent to the mattress.” Yecch.

There are specific guidelines and laws that resort housekeepers adhere to. We now have seen that housekeepers are on a pressed schedule and they’re in a rush to wash rooms as shortly as doable. We additionally know that many visitors hold these “don’t disturb” indicators on their door, though they might have already vacated the premises. So how do maids get into these rooms?

Lodge housekeepers have the “three knock rule in place for this very motive. That is so a visitor has ample time to assemble their belongings and hit the street when it’s time to take a look at. Knocking thrice additionally ensures that housekeepers don’t barge in unexpectedly.

Coming subsequent: the tragic aspect of working at a resort

Many accommodations have seen their fair proportion of tragedies – individuals die of their rooms on a regular basis. Usually, it’s the housekeeping employees who makes the grotesque discoveries when a visitor passes away on premises.

A redditor known as _Belmount_ had a tragic story to inform about their office. “[O]ne day a maid discovered a lady who dedicated suicide. She checked in so her household wouldn’t be compelled to seek out the physique. It was the center of the day and the resort was largely clear of individuals. No one heard the gun shot and we’ve got concrete flooring that stopped the bullet from touring out of the room…. The maid quickly stop afterwards.” I don’t suppose anybody might blame her.

Subsequent, how maids really feel about ideas…

Nothing makes the housekeeping employees happier than receiving some additional tricks to take house along with their meager paychecks. One worker at a five-star resort in Orlando informed trivago.com, “it’s a large battle and extra so if in case you have a household. It’s nearly not possible, just like what you’d earn at a fast-food restaurant. That’s why tipping is necessary for us.”

A technique that housekeepers complement their earnings is thru the generosity of their visitors. Being a housekeeper at a resort generally is a arduous job, and each bit of cash that they absorb may help. These mattress pat-downs and fast cleanups are nicely definitely worth the effort in the event that they’re rewarded with ideas from beneficiant visitors.

What occurs if you complain a couple of housekeeper?

Stress could cause even essentially the most docile of individuals to vary their moods and behaviors. Chambermaids typically have a tough time placing on knowledgeable completely happy face due to this. In actual fact, some housekeepers have been identified to blow their stack at instances. This doesn’t profit them in any respect!

We already noticed that some visitors give housekeepers a tough time. However a nasty angle on the a part of the maid will normally end in missed ideas. And even worse, a housekeeper might even be docked working hours for being grumpy to visitors… irrespective of how out of line the visitors’ habits has been.

All accommodations have tips which require them to take the requests of their guess. These requests should be authorized and that is the norm for each main chain of accommodations. Evidently, most resort housekeepers have heard some fairly silly requests.

A little bit humor can go a great distance for some staff, however since these maids are pressed for time, foolish or frivolous requests are regarded down upon. One resort maid obtained a request to make it cease raining when a visitor noticed that it was raining outdoors. This is only one instance of the asinine requests that housekeepers take care of each day.

Now that the reality about maids and housekeepers at accommodations, are you excited on your subsequent resort keep?

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trigafy · 8 years ago

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Hypnosis The Induction of Conviction

Product Description The hypnotist this book full of practical help and guidance. This book is an overview of the history and theory of hypnotism.

Price: $29.95

Used Book in Good Condition

National Guild of Hypnotists Convention 2016 | Our Future is Now

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National Guild of Hypnotists Convention 2016 – Our Future is Now.

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National Guild of Hypnotists Launches Educational Campaign MERRIMACK, NH–(Marketwired – Oct 27, 2015) – The National Guild of Hypnotists (NGH), the nation’s oldest, largest and leading organization for professional consulting hypnotists, is launching a campaign to help educate the public regarding the safe … News story posted on 2015-10-27T09:29:00 You’re probably aware of hypnosis to stop smoking. Or for losing pounds. Maybe you’ve heard how hypnosis can help explore past lives, but there are some things hypnosis can help you do that might surprise or amaze you:

1. Locate lost objects. If you were the one who put it away, or you witnessed it being put away, hypnosis might help. Even if the incident was years ago. Try it and see what happens.

2. Enjoy foods you’ve avoided. Brussel sprouts are healthy, and whole-grain bread is better for you than white, nutritionists tell us. But what if you just don’t like the taste? A little hypnosis and you might change all that, though if your resistance persists, check for an allergy. Sometimes your body just “knows.”

3. End cravings. The reverse of #2, this helps you turn down brownies, stop uncontrolled shopping, or even give up the boyfriend who keeps doin’ ya wrong.

4. Enjoy public speaking. They call it a greater fear than death. Too bad. Being an effective speaker can boost your career in your company, your industry, and beyond. Once-reticent clients gasp at the changes in themselves–and the benefits they reap. If stopping smoking stops draining money, becoming a good speaker puts money in the bank.

5. Exercise longer, stronger and more efficiently. Hypnosis can help your turn distaste for working out into a craving. Ask yourself: “What would exercising give me? What would it make possible in my life?” A talented hypnotherapist spins a powerful motivational story for your subconscious, making it all so desirable that you can’t wait to shop for running shoes.

6. Attract your life partner. You think finding the person of your dreams is about mesmerizing her or her? Nope. Start with yourself. Hypnosis for confidence, sex appeal, or immediate rapport gives you a feeling you’ve never had before. And that sense of self is very appealing to others. Try it out.

7. Get more done in less time. It’s not all about organizing your files or upgrading your technology. Productivity, effectiveness, and enjoying what you do all start in the mind. And specifically, in your subconscious mind. Uh-huh.

8. Relieve an itch. Yeah, really. When is an itch not an itch? When it’s a habit. Keep scratching it and it feels itchier. And irritated. Irritated skin often itches (not to mention bleeds) so you’ve created a cycle. But you can tell your subconscious to disengage that phantom itching, allow your healing, and get back that healthy smoothness.

Finding Your Hypnotherapist

Once interested in hypnosis, people ask me how they can find a good hypnotist in their area. If you live in or near a metropolitan area, it shouldn’t be too difficult.

But people trained in hypnosis can sometimes be found in rural areas too.

You may see the title “certified hypnotherapist” or “certified hypnotist,” and more recently “consulting hypnotist.” Ask which organization(s) certified him or her. For hypnotists who are not licensed as psychotherapists or psychologists (and yet are extremely effective and trustworthy), the National Guild of Hypnotists is nationally known and deemed trustworthy. The American Board of Hypnotherapy is also a respected organization.

When you call a hypnotherapist, found through referral or simply by Googling “hypnosis”, notice how comfortable you feel during the conversation. Great skills are crucial, but so is the rapport between you. If you want to test the waters, arrange for a single appointment, and then decide whether you want to continue.

A hypnotherapeutic relationship can be ongoing, especially if there’s a coaching aspect to it, but it is often short term: one appointment, three appointments, perhaps six, depending on the issue or the habit you want to break–or create.

In your phone conversation, you should be encouraged to ask all the questions you need to ask. As a consumer and potential client, you have that right.

Two good questions are: “How long have you been in practice? And what are your specialties?? (Mine are smoking cessation and women’s issues including love and relationship.) You may also want to ask, “Do you work with ______(your issue)?” And “How often?”

What Can Hypnosis Be Used For

Hypnosis, in a clinical setting–as opposed to stage hypnosis for entertainment–is usually used to create or break habits. These are habits of thought or action. Grabbing the next potato chip, and the next, and the next, without even noticing you’re doing it, is a habit of action. But that action may have been due to a habit of thought. Perhaps you were focusing on a painful, sad, or angry thought or an unfulfilled desire and wanted to distract yourself. And you found that a tasty food could do that for you temporarily.

A conscious motive? Maybe. But it’s often unconscious. You may not realize why you’re reaching for the chip. You’d probably say “I like the taste” or “I’m just hungry and I can’t take a break now.”

Hypnosis is ideal for working for working with the subconscious mind.

The Power of Self Hypnosis

Self-hypnosis is an empowering tool because once you’ve tested the waters, you may want to continue the work on your own, with only occasional visits to the hypnotist of your choice for tougher issues or to upgrade your skills.

Self-hypnosis allows you to work with yourself, whenever you choose, on simple things, reserving another office visit for times when you need an outside perspective or when self-hypnosis doesn’t seem to be working. Smoking cessation, initial weigh loss work, and relationship issues seem to work best with outside help, at least at first.

But once you’ve sampled the powerful results of hypnosis, you might want to make it part of your life. So ask up front if your hypnotherapist teaches self-hypnosis. Many of us do. For example, I teach self-hypnosis one-on-one, in a group workshop, or with a CD I have created for that purpose. When choosing your practitioner, find out what choices she offers.

Hypnotherapy is not psychotherapy

If you suspect you need psychotherapy, don’t expect the “certified hypnotherapist” or hypnotist to do that. She is not licensed for that work. Instead, either look for a psychotherapist who is also trained in hypnosis and uses it commonly in her practice, or go to two different people.

In my practice, I have relationships with many

psychotherapists. When the situation calls for both skills, we share a client, and with her expressed written permission, we exchange progress reports to maximize the impact of our work to benefit that client. Generally I see the client a specified number of times, while the psychotherapist’s care is ongoing.

Clients generally say the combination made a difference in speed, effectiveness, and enjoyment.

Hypnosis is pleasant

The process of being hypnotized is usually a pleasant one. So many of my clients have described as a “mental massage,” that I now teach a corporate workshop called That Marvelous Mental Massage.

Clients often say they feel healthier, more alive and committed to their lives after walking out of a session. They can’t believe they could alter their minds to be so rested and optimistic, after merely sitting on a sofa for an hour, listening to someone say some words to them.

If you have an issue you think can be addressed by hypnosis, call some practitioners near you, describe the issue, what you’d like to have happen, and sample this ancient art and science for what it can do for you.

Wendy Lapidus-Saltz, of Jaguar Mind LLC, is a certified hypnotherapist and master practitioner of NLP with an office in Chicago’s Gold Coast. She especially enjoys working with women on attracting love/relationship and on the stresses of the corporate world–or leaving it. Her websites are http://www.HypnoAttraction.com and http://www.NonSmoker4Life.com .

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