#this one is quite a bit darker than the OG

[thewildsideseries]

Chapter 40 - [ AO3 | FFN ]

“Sadie?” Stiles asked warily. “What…?” The moment I reached for his bloody pantleg, Stiles pushed my hands away. I tried again, but he flinched back, grabbing my wrists so I couldn’t continue. I looked up at him in confusion, but the broken, guilty look in his eye told me all I needed to know. “Sadie, don’t—” I ripped my hands out of his grasp and pushed his shorts up. There were two slashes in the skin of his thigh, bloody but no longer bleeding. They weren’t deep, not enough to prevent him from walking, but deep enough to scar if he didn’t get the right treatment. The severity of the cut didn’t worry me. That wasn’t the reason that my jaw dropped in horror, or that tears sprang into my eyes. The two cuts were crisscrossed, forming a large X. Stiles grabbed my hands again, stopping me from investigating any further, but it was too late. I didn’t need my hands to see the dark stain on his jersey, the trace of blood that was staining the twenty-four from the inside. He had a cut there, too, probably the same shape. One in the leg. One in the shoulder. “Sadie, hey.” Stiles slid his hands up my arms, trying to force me to look at him. “Sadie, it doesn’t matter, okay? I’m right here. I’m fine.” “They know. He—he took you, and he did this—he knows—” “Sadie, look at me. It doesn’t matter, okay? They let me go—” “Because of me! He did this to you because of me and because he knows and because he wants me to be scared and he wants me next and you’re hurt and it’s my fault and—” Stiles leapt from his seat, crushing me into a hug as the world began to spiral. He was bleeding, and he was hurt, and it was my fault. I had shot Kate, and she’d died, and it was my fault. Derek had bitten Victoria, and she’d killed herself, and it was my fault. I’d lied to Allison, and she’d told Gerard, and he’d tortured Stiles, and it was my fault. It was my fault, my fault, my fault…

[stu-dyingstudent]

third war continued/Sakura sent to war prematurely fic recs

Okay, I'll be completely honest, this is one of my ultimate favourite tropes when it comes to Sakura-centric fanfiction! Unfortunately, there really isn't too many of these out there and most are not completed, so if you know of any more then please send them my way. I'm begging.

Started: 2024.07.23

Last Updated: 2024.07.23

note: feel free to check out my master list which has a bunch of Sakura Haruno fic recs (all organized)!

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Your Move, Instigator (draw your weapon and hold your tongue) - Laysan_albatross || ao3|| third war extended AU || complete

“We are still under wartime policy,” the recruiter had told her parents. He had an envelope in his hand. He sounded sorry. “She has two parents who are successful ninjas. We would be remiss to overlook her potential based upon that alone.” The Third Shinobi War never ended. Konoha needs more soldiers, grabbing anyone who can fight, especially those who can't say no.

You guys, I love this one to death. It's definitely a darker take on the Naruto universe, but I thoroughly enjoyed it. The civilian born shinobi are deemed as more expendable and thus thrown into war while the clan born remain sheltered. I found it quite interesting that the Uchiha were also lobbed into this group, but it was more done as punishment instead. Very raw and properly gets across the devastation that this brings.

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still waters by Vulpecula_et_Anser || ao3 || gen || M || Sakura sent to war early AU || one-shot complete

Sakura is twelve when she queues up in front a desk with a bunch of other equally-terrified looking shinobi. The ages range from younger than her to old enough to be her grandpa. The man sitting at the desk is stony-faced as he doles out assignments. Sakura obediently shuffles forward when it is her turn, and recites her shinobi identification number in a shaky voice when asked. When the provost marshal looks at her, looks down at his paper, looks back at her, and grimaces, Sakura knows it’s not going to be good. OR How Sakura survives the war, told in bits and pieces.

Canon-fodder! Sakura makes her shinobi debut on the front lines, forcing her to get creative in her means to survive. It's gritty, raw, and the clever use of seals is great! In most of the other works of this type, Sakura is placed on a team of sorts or has some "support" (kinda), but here she is all alone. She is forced to fight for her life, to keep going despite how she feels because ultimately, Sakura does not want to die. She does meet some people later on though and it was great to see. Y'all know this type of story is my personal guilty pleasure (also one of the best I've read thus far)...

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Find Your Place (whatever it takes) - Dovey || ao3 || third war extended AU || incomplete

The war lasts longer than in canon, and has only just ended. While most of the 'Konoha 12' are clan heirs and thus protected from having to go to war prematurely, Sakura is from a civilian family, with naturally advanced chakra control, and thus is thrown immediately onto the frontlines. Now she's on a genin team in peacetime, and she's struggling to figure out how to live when she's not constantly at risk of dying. Team seven bonds in new weird ways, The Uchiha are actually all dead except for Sasuke (including war-hero itachi) who's got a chip on his shoulder the size of Konoha, Naruto isn't the kyuubi container and he finds Sakura kinda scary. Sakura would just like to have a hobby.

Find Your Place (whatever it takes) is the og fic of this category as far as I am aware. The main difference to consider is that it primarily focuses on the aftereffects of the war and the impact that it had on Sakura as a person.

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team. - waterpllar || ao3 || gen || third war extended AU || complete

She’s under Neji's command, which apparently means she’s under the Hyuuga’s command. The Hyuuga’s role is on the frontlines, but Neji must be special for a kid from the branch family, because they mostly send him and Sakura out after the big battles are done, to pick off the wounded, and burn bodies. Sakura kind of wishes she had someone to keep her from the big fights, too. Her job is with Neji, taking back kekkei genkai and retrieving important people’s bodies, but she has other assignments, too. She’s given a dull kunai and told to go through the battlefield, dodging blows and jutsus from friend and foe, slashing at whatever isn’t wearing a Konoha headband.(the third shinobi war doesn't end, dragging on for years. konoha is running out of troops, and unimportant children in the academy with even a modicum of talent are snatched up to the warfront. sakura, unfortunately, is one of them. so is neji.)

Such a strong beginning, although, I gotta say that the ending was rather disappointing imo. There was so much potential, but the author admitted to not wanting to continue the story so it was cut short. Hopefully more works of this nature will come to light!

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Induction - Anonymous || ao3 || M || gen || third war extended AU || incomplete

in·duc·tion /inˈdəkSH(ə)n/ noun: induction 1. the action or process of inducting someone to a position or organization. enlistment into military service.   or; The Third War does not end soon enough. Children pay the price.

Definitely not my favorite take on this trope, but it fits the bill, so it's here! Anyway, tbh I never actually made it far enough reading to get to the actual war part, so I don't have too much to say.

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Ground Zero - TheIzzatron || ao3 || gen || T || third war extended AU || incomplete

Desperate times call for desperate measures. If this means forcing weapons into the hands of children, then so be it.

AHHHHH I'm praying for the day we get another chapter of Ground Zero!! I really appreciate how we actually get a training arc where we get a base of the characters and how this system works before they properly get dispatched. The characters and their emotions are so well done that you truly feel how unfair the situation is. They aren't heartless, they are children. Highly recommend.

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Control - Dragonist || ao3 || gen || no rating || Sakura sent to war early AU || incomplete

Kumo kidnaps a child of Konoha. Sakura graduates from the academy only a year after starting it. There's a war going on, and she's obedient enough to stay quiet and follow orders. Then the war ends, and it's unclear who is really giving them. (a mystery from a child's perspective)

I haven't read Control yet, but I really need to get around to it!

Ok I just noticed I forgot to add the link to this one, but that has been fixed!!

Edit: bruh, I’m so mad I didn’t get around to reading this sooner because it seems the author deleted it 😭 if any of you have a link/download, please send (I’m begging)

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Please send me more like these!!!!

[spookybokchoy]

I got inspired from other ppl doing redesigns of Hazbin characters and wanted to give a go at it. I don't watch the show but I know info about it from the internet because it's kinda hard to avoid it with it being everywhere. Like most ppl I like the fun idea of their designs but there is much left desired when taking account animation and how they stand out from one another in the background. I focused on character design in college so I'm looking at it through a designer's pov. I feel I know enough about the show to give design feedback. Even so you can still disagree with me/challenge me and be valid. Critique is how we grow as artists! We need to know how to give good criticism and how to take it ourselves :) I'll say the strengths and weaknesses of each original design and go over the changes/why

Charlie- Her original design in the show's cute but I thought she was a clown, not a demon at first. Already has a "demon form" with horns+ tail so I added those built in already. Wanted her to feel optimistic but unsure of herself. Lucifer- Original suit tells he's an over the top king, added gold shoulder pads matching the crown piece and exaggerated his shortness so now he has a Napoleon complex and takes pride from being short. Him and Charlie keep the mostly red yellow white color scheme to signify their royalty. Vaggie Vega- Unique hair shape, good for recognition. Changed name to Vega/Vegatha, sounds strong willed, better fitting for her. "X" over hair distracts from her face, put it underneath. I also made her a bit darker in value to subtly show she's a fallen angel Husker- Eyebrow game is strong, got a unique face from your typical toothy big-eyed citizens. Too many symbols that look pretty but don't make sense in his character. He's a sulky hard ass who doesn't want attention but he's got a design that's very eye-catching. I made him look lower class since he used to be an overlord and is fighting a gambling addiction. 180 color change too so you know he's a cat with owl features.

Angel Dust- Iconic floofy hair swoop. Darker suit to bring out face with a heart choker bc he's a feminine fellow after all. On that note, more pink leaning color scheme. Added abdomen for more spider theming. Dr. Pentious- His Victorian steam punk theme is fun & quirky though you can't quite see it in his design. You can't really see it in my design either cuz I was more focused on filtering out all the eyes and extra details. I would want to take this back to the board and do it over. His original top hat face distracts from his actual one so that had to go. 2 front fangs to appear more snakey. Alastor- His design works for the 1930s the decade he passed. I don't get the correlation to radio and voodoo though. The whole discourse with him being creole is messy so I scrapped it and made him a white American broadcaster to not deal with that. I made him blind with supernatural hearing abilities leaning into the sound aspect. It feels chilling knowing he hears your every move, emotion and heartbeat like the warden from Minecraft. Deer and orange fox themed for a dual nature. Vox- This idea of a tech savvy con man is super fun. Made his persona charming and eccentric, being able to appear friendly while being sketchy as f. His body is made of wires too with his teeth resembling the shock waves on his hat. Kept the pinstripes for a wirey feel.

I also did some Helluva Boss redesigns too! I think Helluva designs deliver pretty well (besides Queen Bee) so I more or so redesigned them based off my own head cannons. I used to watch the show but fell off around halfway of S2 bc I wasn't vibing with the direction of the story. Octavia- Young entrepreneur, takes after her father and mother being snobby and looks down at lower classes who she sees as less intelligent than high class. Very creative in problem solving. Millie- I like her og clothes alot. Those overalls are chic. This outfit is what she'd wear out in the field when she's working for IMP or at the farm. She and Loona fight alot about who works harder and Loona having an attitude problem towards everyone. Sallie Mae- Not much change other than white hair and removed eyelashes. I might want to make her shirt dark muted blue instead. I gave her a backstory how she ran away from toxic masculinity parents and eventually gets hired at IMP as a spy.

Loona- Emo to the extremo. She's originally goth but I got emo from her I'm sorry she just doesn't look goth. She's very lax when it comes to her job and slacks off constantly. She still does it well despite not working as hard as Millie, Moxxie or Blitz. She's strict but means well and cares for ppl around her. She also gets adopted at age 14 in my head cannon.

Bee- 180 change completely. She's a thick queen! Made her black coded with more stripes cuz she's a BEE. I don't get why Vivienne didn't give her stripes bc that's a design thing she uses so much and she doesn't use it in a character whose name is BEE? What??? anyway her design is still complex but simplified and uncluttered for animation so the animators can have pleasant dreams. She's the child of Beelzebub and a hell hound. So that's my take on Hazbin/Helluva character design! This was fun re imagining not only the characters but the story itself. I may write a fan fiction but i dunno right now. I respect the original source material which is something I feel everyone needs to acknowledge when they do a redesign of anything. There are things I don't like about the original and that's ok! That's part of why I did the redesigns. That being said I don’t support Vivziepop :)

[boyfridged]

What is your opinion on the Arkham Knight version of Jason

i have to say that I’ve never watched the full walkthrough nor played the game, but I did watch fragments and read the comics (although that was some years ago), so this is what my opinion is based on. &also there are things that i don’t enjoy about it, like the militia and aesthetics that comes with it, but fash undertones are present in so many batman titles, i’m not going to get into it right now.

i would like to say that i’m quite ambivalent, but that’s a lie because i usually have a soft spot for all jason iterations, even if they are very far off from the original characterisation and even perpetuate stereotypes that i can’t stand in canon. and that is, i think, for the most part, the case with arkham jay, an elseworld characterisation that might have even inspired the mainstream red hood comics a bit too much… especially that the arkham universe seems to be much darker and hopeless.

needless to say, I don’t like it in the main continuity, but for that title i didn’t mind it. if anywhere, pieces of media like that are the place to explore these themes.

two things i find interesting:

pre-robin/robin jay: something that is central to my reading of canon jason is his kindness and dedication to the world. this is attitude that ak jason is many ways definitely lacks. he is sensitive of course & motivated by desire to protect the innocent, but he is already cynical before he even gets to become robin.  it makes sense if you consider he’s older than jay when we first meet him in the main continuity, and that ak jay’s circumstances are much worse from the beginning (which is something i don’t appreciate that much tbh. you know i love willis & i don’t like this portrayal of gotham nor the crime alley specifically; not even sure if they call it in game/ak comics the same either). ak jay doesn’t give up (which i love), but he is already much more vidincative and has more of this somber determination. in batman and red hood comics flashbacks bruce sometimes mentions that jason “always” treated crime-fighting like a “game” – and this rings more true for ak jay than it ever did for 80s robin jason. i’d say ak!jay does treat life as a game because he knows that to an extent, it is one – and he is already on a disadvantaged position, which is why he’s willing to play dirty in the field. it’s a gritty take and much less mature and empathetic than what we get in og jason storylines. there’s def something captivating in this unromantic approach – hence its popularity even with rh retcons & fanon, but i'm more willing to accept it here than on earth prime. the way we can choose to believe that maybe robin could affect it and let him work him through his grievances with the world, only for it this chance to get completely crushed.

ak!jason: this is the universe in which jason gets to actually blame bruce for abandoning him (as a result of psychological torture, of course, but he still does), and in which he seeks revenge on him specifically. it’s interesting to see it unfold since in in comics it makes only for a short episode in the lost days for jay. (however, ngl, i also find it interesting that so many fans who are obsessed with jason being autonomous and responsible for all of his actions seem to adore this take.)

so, tldr, i guess while i do like this version of jason, he’s also basically a stereotype of og jason and everything i don’t want comics jason to be, which is a bit ironic. but there is some good storytelling in there and nice panels in ak: genesis.

and ngl i do like the monicker & his design. perhaps more than the red hood one even.

[mouseinthegreenhouse]

Angel's Kiss

This is a snippet of my WIP set in 1800s England, called Just Otto. Thought i would share my lad here as I go through all my OG WIPs and pick out lil bits to share <3

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“Here we are, young sir,” Mrs Bolston says cheerfully, peering back at him with the same smile he has seen parents give their children as they wait for a show to start. It says that she thinks he’ll be excited and that is an almost sickening thought.

He smiles back weakly. She’s good sort. 

For a moment, he hovers, unsure if he is meant to go ahead. He’s relieved when Mrs Bolston opens the door, walking inside with a respectful bow of her head at whoever is inside. Otto follows at her heels and tries not to feel like a little duckling waddling after its mama.

“He has arrived, my lord,” Mrs Bolston announces and Otto raises his gaze from where it has been fixed resolutely on the floor. The drawing room is stunning, a show of elegant wealth, but, as rude as it may be, Otto cannot take his eyes of the man sitting on one of two settees facing opposite each other.

Even as he sinks into the plush creme fabric, he still holds incredibly poise, as though he is suspended like a statue above the settee itself. He’s lean and long, like a cat, and dark brown hair, even darker than Otto’s own, is pulled back behind one of his ears, framing a widow’s peak. His features are sharp and his bright eyes sharper as they dig into Otto like daggers, assessing every inch of him.

He tries not to flinch.

“I can see,” Viscount Henneton says slowly, tilting his head just so. His voice is more rumbly than Otto thought it would be. He raises a hand and gives a small nod. “You are dismissed, Mrs Bolston.”

The housekeeper nods back and bows her head before sending Otto a encouraging smile and trotting out of the room. He jolts slightly as he instinctually goes to follow her before the gaze of Viscount Henneton pulls him back to reality.

Otto ducks his head in a bow. “Pleasure to meet you, my lord,” he says quietly, trying to mimic Mrs Bolston’s manner of speaking and way of address. He isn’t sure he pulls it off.

He leaves his head ducked and hands clasped behind his back. He fiddles with his fingers uncomfortably, picking at his cuticles and biting his tongue to keep him from saying something untoward. God knows how many posh adults he has upset in his lifetime, seeing as he has always been better and joking and making jokes that children find funny. Jokes that adults, especially the well bred ones, do not.

��Look at me boy,” the viscount orders, tone even in a way that makes Otto much more antsy than relieved. Lifting his head to see the man’s calm yet greatly indifferent demeanour makes him feel even worse.

“Otto, is it?” Otto nods and the viscount hums lowly. “Not my first choice but it will do,” he says and Otto can’t help but baulk at the thought that Viscount Henneton might have decided to change his name.

Does… does this mean the viscount is taking ‘Otto’s’ claim as his son at face value? That’s not–

That’s not what he would have expected from a man like him and before Otto can stop himself he finds himself questioning it.

“Are you quite sure I’m your missing son, sir?” he asks, unable to make himself feel complete regret even as he is sure he has just sped up his rejection, real son or not. Can viscount legally kill people? Is that a thing?

Confusion spreads across Viscount Henneton’s face, clear as day, and his eyebrows shoot up. His mouth parts and it is obvious he wasn’t expecting that but then he smiles.

It’s small, merely a soft turn up at the corners of his mouth yet it is surely a smile. Otto doesn’t know what to think—what he should think—and he knows even less so when the viscount leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and tilting his head with interest. He looks like the large bird that used to perch atop their tent when they stopped down north, with its intense gaze and raised wings right before it swooped down and caught something in its mouth.

Dahlia always drew him away before he could get closer and see what it was.

“I am sure,” Viscount Henneton says, almost softly. He says it like a fact, like it is undeniably true in a way that Otto knows it can’t be. Even if he is this missing son, they will never know for sure. 

Something gentles in the viscount’s eyes and then–

“You have the same birthmark you did when you were younger.”

Otto’s breath catches. He knows the birthmark the man is talking about, as does anyone who meets him. A distinctive red splodge beside his left eye. Its unusual colour has always gotten him odd stares from strangers who weren’t the troupe (family) but it was mostly accepted as he was entertainment anyway. It just added to that. Something interesting to gawk at.

He can’t imagine the people of the ton will accept it so easily, nor the viscount. Yet the disgust never comes.

Instead, Viscount Henneton’s smile grows slightly. He sighs something wistful and adds, almost to himself, “Your mother refers to it as your angel’s kiss.”

Your mother.

Otto’s hands shake. 

Viscount Henneton shakes his head and he seems to shake away that softness with it. When he meets Otto’s gaze once more, his eyes are steady and his face tells nothing while the boy feels himself tremble as his world flips upside down. Clearly, the ability to shed vulnerability as if it is a cloak is not one passed down.

Because, it does seem, that there are things that have been passed down, that can be passed down. For Otto is the viscount’s son. He wishes he could fool himself for a little bit longer.

“You are my son,” Viscount Henneton tells him resolutely. It’s said without shame but also without pride and it's with a great deal of disgust that Otto realises that it bothers him. He tells himself, like a pigeon-livered fool, that it is only the fact that he hates the unpredictability of it all.

Otto doesn’t need pride from a father he never knew.

[erigold13261]

Hi can we hear more about the Failed Rock Revolution AU? It sounds and looks intriguing and amazing!

Oooh yes! I’d love to! Though there is a lot to this AU so I don’t know if I will get to everything. I can give the gist of the AU for the most part and go into details on anything someone might want more info on!

And again, under the cut because it is fairly long. And just a note, this is a darker AU. It’s not as fun or silly as my Swap AU. I don’t think there is anything too drastic to warn about. I do quickly mention a minor character death, abuse of power, deteriorating mental health, but I don’t go into great detail.

I’m mainly going to be focusing on the aftermath of the failed Revolution, but I can go into how things in history changed to make people act differently. Like, for example, the Goolings in this AU had a rougher break-up making Tatiana even more stuck up and hostile to rock, and Neon and his Wife’s relationship is different which kept him from fully going with the cyborgification (he still has plenty of robotic features, but he has his face/head in this AU).

But the main gist of this AU is that 1010 were able to stop the Rock Revolution. Mayday and Zuke sustained some heavy injuries from the fight that left them incapable of playing their instruments anymore, meaning the Revolution kinda died. And since May and Zuke did not fully complete the Revolution like in-game, things are very different for a lot of the characters.

For DJSS, he was stuck in orbit for a bit longer. When he did eventually come back down his head had severe cracking. Other than that actually, he is not affected by the Revolution that much. He was affected more by the past where he was fired from his teaching job instead of quitting, making him much more bitter and hostile to others than the OG DJSS.

For the Sayu Crew, Sayu is not an AI and won’t become one, especially not after people start thinking robots/AIs are dangerous from how 1010 fought B2J. The Crew is also very confused on what they should do, whether to stay with NSR and keep making music that now feels wrong to them or quit and try to figure out what to do with their lives at such a young age with no real backup plan. 

The only other thing that really changed history-wise for the Crew is that Dodo was given cybernetics and can now talk (not that he wanted them, it was forced by his parents) and that Remi has not come out as trans yet and is still seen as a girl using she/her pronouns (at least publicly. With the Crew he is seen as a guy between them).

For Yinu, her piano stays broken. There is no music magic to fix it and so a lot of passion for playing is actually stifled in Yinu. Her job that once brought joy is now becoming bittersweet and exhausting. Mama sustained damage to her spine from the fall (which is actually the same for my OG Mama, I just haven’t shown it much) but she refuses to use a cane (which is NOT like my OG Mama).

Historically, not much is changed for Mama or Yinu’s past. They still lost Papa and moved to Vinyl City to work for NSR around the same time. The only difference really for them is that because the music magic never fixed the piano, and there was no reconciliation between the family and B2J, Mama has become even more protective and overbearing on Yinu. Which just makes Yinu even more upset and wanting freedom and to stop playing the piano.

For 1010 and Neon J, there is a lot that has changed (of course there is, this is me. 1010 all the way lol). Both historically and after the Revolution. They intertwine a lot, but I will try to keep it brief. The doll/kid versions of 1010 were destroyed, meaning they never get those memories of Neon’s Ex-wife and kid, or any peace-time memories before the war. Because of this, they are not as human-acting when MK units (if anything they act more like canon 1010 than my versions of 1010) and Neon is not as attached to them as he is as OG Neon with his 1010. He still loves them, but not in the way as he would if the dolls were able to become the MK units, since to him these are just robots he built to fill an empty void. They were not even given names (I like to think the fanon names are the names Neon picked out for potential kids, so he would not give these “replacements” real names), so instead they are just their colors (White, Blue, Red, Yellow, Green, and Purple).

As you can see, Purple is, or at least WAS, a part of 1010. The reason he is no longer part of 1010 was because Tatiana destroyed him to set an example of what happens when robots become dangerous to the public (she honestly thought Neon would just rebuild him and was trying to set an example so 1010 would behave). Well Purple was lost, and Neon was trying to find a way to quit NSR without abandoning 1010 as NSR owned 1010 at this point in time (this was the same in my OG version, but negotiating with Tatiana got them out of that situation, but this Neon was too scared to attempt that for fear of losing 1010).

At the time of the Revolution, 1010 were all metal (no flowing hair or kinda human-like silicone skin) and just following orders given by Neon (All-kill protocol). Even without their human-like memories they would know not to ACTUALLY hurt B2J too much, just to try and stop them. But as B2J destroyed 1010 and the factory, Blue became desperate to protect his troops, his captain, and NSR. Which led to Blue breaking May’s arm (to the point it later needed to be amputated) and severing a tendon in Zuke’s arm, fracturing his skull, and damaging his spine/legs (he was more hostile to Zuke because of Zuke’s comments on destroying the factory). In the end, it was this act of violence from Blue that put 1010 on the spot for possibly being too dangerous along with questions of what to do with Sayu if she were to become an AI at some point. (there’s probably more with 1010 but I will leave it there for them).

For Eve, she never fought B2J. So her feelings for Zuke were never dealt with. What she did have to face though was the fact that Blue had almost killed Zuke, leading Eve to resent 1010 and start acting very cruel to them. I feel like her mental state was very fragile at this point, causing her to spiral and hurt people around her: Blue, Neon, Remi, even Zuke when she tried to reach out to him since now she had an idea of where he would be. Everyone to her was an enemy at this point and she felt more alone than ever. (She was not in therapy because I have the idea that Eve only started therapy after the Revolution, so since that was stopped, she is not getting the help that she needs.)

Historically, instead of staying with both parents while her parents split, she instead stayed with her mother only and so she was not raised alongside Remi at all. Even though they are half siblings, they are not very close at all. If anything, Eve doesn’t even see him as a sibling while Remi looks up to her, basically putting her on a pedestal and trying to be more like her (even if it is the more negative aspects of Eve that are more apparent in this AU).

For Tatiana, like I said earlier, the Goolings had a much harsher break-up. She is now a lot less caring about those around her. Even when her OG version was cold, she still cared about the city and the people who worked under her, but this version is a lot more callous to the point of pushing her artists more and more. Rock is definitely a thing she detests now, not just dislikes and annoyed with. Even other genres are pushed back, making a lot of the Megastars have to redo their music at times if they stray too close to a particular genre outside of EDM for fear of some kind of retaliation. This could be in the very SEVERE case of 1010 losing a member to her anger, or Mama getting implied threats about Yinu’s future in the music business getting a lot more difficult. It has become a very toxic work environment that puts EDM above everything else.

For the Revolution part of her story. She was happy that B2J was dealt with, but not with the fact that 1010 is now seen as a dangerous tool in the hands of a record label/power company. So she forced Neon to remove all weapons and fighting abilities from 1010 or else she would get someone else to do it. She put restrictions on robots, AIs, holograms, and anything else the public might get spooked by. Meaning that Yinu, DJ, and Eve would all be forced to work overtime very soon after recovering to pick up slack for Sayu and 1010. Leading to just more resentment between all the charters, most of it aimed at 1010 and Neon (the only one not TRULY angry or resentful of 1010/Neon is DJSS). 

Some of the resentment comes from fear of robots now, such as Mama terrified that one of 1010 is going to go haywire and try to hurt Yinu. So she tries to keep them away, yelling at them when they get close or even shoving them away so that Yinu is safe in her eyes. There’s resentment for ACTUALLY hurting a loved one, which is Eve hating 1010 (mainly Blue) for hurting Zuke. She now treats the group, and Neon, with cold hostility, and if she is ever alone with Blue she uses her mind powers on him to show him what Zuke must have felt when Blue was attacking. Then there is the resentment of losing work, which is the Sayu Crew who are now being forced to basically take a pay cut and not be as creative all because 1010 decided to hurt people. 

It’s not just others hating 1010, there is resentment within the group. White hates almost everyone around him (especially Tatiana and Blue), the only exception being Neon J. Blue is full of self loathing, anxiety, and fear of messing up again and leading to the death of the other members of 1010 (along with the fact that Blue is the technical leader of 1010, White is only the leader in the public eye). Red is terrified of everything. He is almost always cowering behind Blue or Yellow when not around fans. Yellow has become an absolute prick, picking on White, Red, and Green. Trying to take back some control in his life on the few people he deems lower than him. And Green is just tired of everything and wants to quit music. He is very depressed and once his weaponry was removed, his ring acted like a force shut-off button, which Yellow and White love to pull and make him shut down. Everyone in this AU has basically become toxic to each other because of the environment, and it seems like no matter what people try to do, things just get worse.

Um, I think that’s all I have for now with Tatiana. No one figures out she is Kul Fyra. She doesn’t blast her head off revealing any crystals. Her fire/spark for rock stays extinguished. There is no talk between her and Kliff. To her, everything goes back to normal except with a few more rules to keep the order. It’s all perfect to her and so she can’t see the terrible environment she is promoting both for her megastars and for the citizens of Vinyl City.

For Kliff, I will be honest, I haven’t thought of him much in this AU. I kinda see him bailing on B2J the second he realizes they were done in by 1010. He probably feels guilty about kinda being the reason robots now have such heavy restrictions on them, but not enough to try and reach out to Neon and reveal himself. He would try to get in contact with Tatiana or B2J at some point. Failing to get to Tatiana but able to get to B2J. There would be an apology at first and then the formation of a new plan to get back at NSR, only for the 2 to just tell him to go away. They can’t do this anymore. Their spirits were broken along with their bodies. Probably leading to Kliff feeling abandoned again, but not as much since he could physically see why the two were giving up rock. Still though, he’d try and start a new revolution somehow, kinda vanishing for now. (I’ll try to think more for him, but for now this is what I got.)

For DK West, he and Zuke had the first two rap battles. So when Zuke ended up disowning West, then going up against 1010 only to get severely hurt, West didn’t know what to do. He was hurt by Zuke but still loved his brother. This ended up with him selling his house, land, and wagon to move to the city and take care of Zuke and May. Trying to find ways to help them pay for medical bills and become accustomed to their new way of life. I don’t think Zuke ever really apologizes to West, but it is a fear in his mind that potentially the last thing he said to his brother was that they weren’t related and that he basically hated him. The two have a very strained relationship, and May is trying to help them figure things out, but it is all just pain and sorrow for the three at the moment. 

That is all the main stuff I have! I could go into more details about specific characters, either histories or how their personalities have changed because of their environment. I really want to draw more for this AU because it is honestly a lot of fun to think of it! I have no idea what to call it other than like “Failed Revolution” or something, so I will go with that for now. I’d love to talk more about this if people want to hear more! :D

[kirnet]

How is Trigun Stampede? I loved the original, but I was a bit put off by the opening and the character design of the remake, so I kind of put it off...

As some one with no attachment to the og bc I’m only on ep 10: I like it! It’s much faster paced and the plot seems to be different? Or maybe it is the same but just a bit rearranged/ accelerated.

I personally really like the new designs! And I think the cgi animation is really well done. It’s so so fluid and they keep a lot of the traditionally painted (or at least heavily texture painted) backgrounds to give it a lot of contrast in a way that I personally think is quite beautiful. Ep 6 also has some traditional 2d animation and a change of a few styles that is really cool to tell a backstory. Also the way vashs coat is animated during action scenes… I’m always gonna focus on that stuff but I think it’s worth paying attention to even if u usually don’t!

I’d say maybe watch till ep 3 and then if u really hate it it won’t be for you? I’m really enjoying both shows but im definitely considering them to be their own separate things. Enough plot happens by then in stampede that you’ll know whether it’s for u or not. So far it’s a lot darker and less goofier than the og. Also Millie isn’t in stampede which is a crime :(

[yunwooz]

OK THANK U SOMEONE ELSE ALSO DOESNT LIKE ATEEZ TEASER PHOTOS. Like don’t get me wrong the guys themselves are serving, esp love Sans hair. But can we just talk abt the fcking clothing and background colours??? Hongjoongs hair literally melting into the bg?? Le sigh. And how overly photoshopped the pics are😭😭😭😭

oh wait i really do like the concept pics LOL 😭 i really love the clothes and outfits as a whole esp, as far as the background, it sorta looks like they went in after the fact and changed the color of the background and it maybe wasn't that color originally 😭 i don't quite get what you mean about hongjoong's hair, in the og concept pic it stands out quite a bit from the bg imo? the way i personally edited it, it def melts into the bg but that was a personal choice bc i prefer darker tones and deeper contrast TT black red and gold are one of my fav color combinations i really love that, and i do think a grey bg was a smart decision considering the detailing and embellishments on the outfits themselves but the bg itself looks a bit odd to me?? esp in this photo you can really see where they did some weird weird things in editing

like these portions of the background look very heavily edited in a bad way and from what i saw of the other photos it seems that grey grainy looking thing is indeed part of the set and it's a hanging banner but i think overall they should not have included that in the trio pic bc it leads the eye there in a bad way

and personally to me it looks like they overedited seonghwa's face in this photo or maybe its how they did the makeup bc the saturation of his eye makeup is not the same on both sides and the way they styled the mullet looks like they just attached a triangle of hair onto the back of his head rather than something more natural TT

if i were an editor for kq i personally would've done something like this to the pics, but this is also a preferred personal style of editing. i think higher contrast in the background would keep it from looking muddled, and more saturation to the skin and bright reds and golds would keep the photo from looking so greyed out and muddy as well as provide some nice contrast to look at ^^ i always do some sort of noise filter on pics i edit but i think that would look esp good with this concept since it's a royal concept and since it's harkening back to wonderland, even a sepia filter might look nice to mimic the gold tones of wonderland pics! but again that's all just personal opinion and what my eye would have preferred seeing.

[yvtro]

Hi! I apologize if this has already been asked and answered many times, I couldn't find if that is the case.

But I would love to hear what you think of Jason in the Arkham Knight video game? Do you like him? Thank you and again, I'm sorry if this is redundant :(

disclaimer: i’m moving blogs. still here to go through my askbox, but you will find me at @boyfridged from now on.

first, i have to say that I’ve never watched the full walkthrough nor played the game, but I did watch fragments and read the comics (although that was some years ago), so this is what my opinion is based on. (also there are things that i don't enjoy about it, like the militia and aesthetics that comes with it, but fash undertones are present in so many batman titles, i'm not going to get into it right now)

i would like to say that i'm quite ambivalent, but that's a lie because i usually have a soft spot for all jason iterations, even if they are very far off from the original characterisation and even perpetuate stereotypes that i can’t stand in canon. and that is, i think, for the most part, the case with arkham jay, an elseworld characterisation that might have even inspired the mainstream red hood comics a bit too much... especially that the arkham universe seems to be much darker and hopeless.

needless to say, I don’t like it in the main continuity, but for that title i didn’t mind it. if anywhere, pieces of media like that are the place to explore these themes.

two things i find interesting:

 - pre-robin/robin jay: 

something that is central to my reading of canon jason is his kindness and dedication to the world. this is attitude that ak jason is many ways definitely lacks. he is sensitive of course, but he is already cynical before he even gets to become robin.  it makes sense if you consider he’s older than jay when we first meet him in the main continuity, and that ak jay's circumstances are much worse from the beginning (which is something i don’t appreciate that much btw! i don’t like this portrayal of gotham nor the crime alley specifically; not even sure if they call it in game/ak comics that). ak jay doesn't give up (which i love), but he is already much more vidincative and has more of this somber determination. in batman and red hood comics flashbacks bruce sometimes mentions that jason "always" treated crime-fighting like a "game" – and this rings more true for ak jay than it ever did for 80s robin jason. i'd say ak!jay does treat life as a game because he knows that to an extent, it is one – and he is already on a disadvantaged position, which is why he's willing to play dirty in the field. it's a gritty take and much less mature and empathetic than what we get in og jason storylines, but i do not dislike it. there's def something captivating in this unromantic approach, and the way we can choose to believe that maybe robin could affect it and let him work him through his grievances with the world, only for it this chance to get completely crushed.

ak!jason:

this is the universe in which jason gets to actually blame bruce for abandoning him (as a result of psychological torture, of course, but he still does), and in which he seeks revenge on him specifically. it's interesting to see it unfold since in in comics it makes only for a short episode in the lost days for jay.

so, to summarise, i guess while i do like this version of jason, he's also basically a stereotype of comics jason and everything i don't want comics jason to be, which is a bit ironic. but there is some cool storytelling in there and my beloved panels from ak: genesis with jay excited about the library.

also like. i think we need to objectivelly agree that his arkham knight design is much cooler than red hood...

[driflew]

was like damn i don't think i posted anything new this week somehow entirely forgetting the whole,,, fuckin lamplight bomb i did earlier this week. which is to say this week, six sentence sunday is actually for fun facts! these’ll mostly be about worship the ashes

1. the basis for worship the ashes is only rlly alluded to, but i wrote it after a convo in a gc abt how risky it is walking around with a god you can just, like, carry. that information makes it to the wrong person and youre sort of screwed. i was originally not gonna post it at all simply bc it was darker than i wanted lamplight to be, and then went “well, if im not gonna post it, might as well go all out” and made it treebark. 

...and then i finished and went “dammit i like this a lot actually” and now you guys get to see it

2. Really enjoyed beefing the fire/burn-based body horror up in that one from the OG draft i made. it's still not super extreme, of course, but i had quite a bit of fun. there’ll be a few more scenes like that--not burns but other sorts of fun horror nonsense--in at least two more lamplight fics, which im pretty excited abt 

3. every time ive thought abt Offshoot Scenes that won't work in canon plot line ive now just been sticking them in that ‘verse, so that offshoot technically has a few more scenes LMFAO. im not gonna write them but it is pretty funny to me

4. the name of this doc on google is “lamplight /r” and the name of this on ao3 before i posted it was “lamplight /r (please think of a real title)”

5. speaking of titles, i considered another one: “two syllable word meaning ‘gift from god’” (from the song not entirely alone by the narcissist cookbook). i didnt go with it cuz i didnt like the way it sounded, but the song’s a good lamplight song as well

6. when i mused out loud that i couldnt think of a sixth fun fact my roommate suggested i just start lying. so my sixth fun fact is that im letting her take over all lamplight writings for the foreseeable future 

[proxylynn]

MY WISH WAS ALWAYS YOURS (part #7 Prologue bonus chapter)

{Random posting is random. Long after finishing this story, I still think about all the lore I made and so, I couldn't help but work on a bonus chapter. If there are mistakes, that's because writing the OG main story broke my keyboard. Writing is so much harder when your "e" and "t" keys don't work. Still, I did go over everything, every chapter, and cleaned it up. Added new bits. Fixed and clarified details. I'm way happier with it now. I know this chapter isn't super long, but I think it's a nice length for what it is. Thank you all for making it this far with my silly writing. I hope this was a good read. I may make chapters as it's open to any idea that feels right to me. Have a pleasant day/night and I'll see all you precious lovelies next time. ^_^}

Once upon a time; years ago in a kingdom far far away, things were quite different than they are now. For one, the royal family didn't have ogres in it's bloodline, but that's a story that doesn't need to be told more. No, this tale takes place back when the kingdom was in darker times and the power-hungry stopped at nothing to get what they wanted no matter the cost or the lives destroyed to achieve their ultimate goal.

One such soul makes their way to a place they didn't think they had to venture to but have no other choice. Away from the main cities and at the end of the Pinocchio River, sits a bleak and unwelcoming ramshackle tavern on the edge of a sinister forest not fit for the faint of heart. There are some places in Far Far Away that law-abiding folk should steer well clear of...and the Poison Apple pub is one of them.

You'll find no decent fairy-tale character here, if they can help it that is, only black-hearted rogues and scoundrels. If you're looking for a fight, a mug of ale in bad company, or even a villain for hire, the Poison Apple is the place to go for such troubling things.

A group on horseback approaches The Poison Apple. The fancy noble-looking man leading the group halts his steed and grimaces, clearly not pleased with being here.

“Are you certain this place has what I'm looking for, Thelonious?”

The masked torturer/executioner gives his lord a thumbs up and the noble sighs with a roll of his eyes.

“I suppose if it has your approval, then that's something. You've never steered me wrong before.”

He snaps his finger and is lifted off his horse by Thelonious, the rest of the guards dismount in turn as the rather short noble struts up to the tavern. Seems the horse is affixed with a large set of gauntlets and a pair of leg extenders that reach down to the stirrups which makes him look tall on the saddle. So the four-foot-tall noble (four and a half feet in heels) knocks on the door and a large single eye peeks out of a small hatch.

“What do you want?”

A gruff Cyclops asks. The small noble clears his throat.

“I am Lord Farquaad. Ruler of the kingdom of Duloc. I seek entry into your...ugh...fine establishment.”

The little lord grits his teeth to remain polite.

“Under what grounds? We don't get many of your types here.”

“Yeah, I bet you don't...”

The lord mutters.

“What was that?”

“I said, I have gold.”

Farquadd snaps his fingers and one of his guards flashes a rather hefty sack of gold coins.

“Oh, well, why didn't you just say so?”

The cyclops opens the door, letting Farquadd in but blocks the rest of his men.

“Sorry, but we have an occupancy limit. That and, the lot of you will set off our customers. Only one of you can join him.”

Farquadd huffs with annoyance but goes along with this.

“Come, Thelonious.”

The executioner obliges while the other guards groan and whine about wanting to drink or eat.

Inside the tavern is a seedy gathering of misfits. Pirates and witches sit at the tables. Two trees arm wrestle and two dwarfs fight. Someone is playing darts with throwing axes. Captain Hook plays the piano and sings, a lit cigarette burns away off to the side, and a brandy sifter is filled with coins at his side. The Headless Horseman downs a drink and burps. The Evil Queen plays pool and hustles some drunks. Two pirates sit forlornly with their mugs. Mangiafuoco the Puppet Master takes a drink out of a beer mug...surrounded by a bunch of other empty beer mugs. A small group is gathered around a Cyclops riding a medieval mechanical brazen bull, hooting and hollering.

A few glance at Farquadd as he and his subordinate head up to the bar, Thelonious picks him up and places him on a bar stool as the bartender turns around.

“You're a new face. Don't get many of those around here.”

This would be Doris, she and her sister Mabel run this pub. They are known as the ugly stepsisters and are less famous than their beloved stepsister Cinderella. But they make a decent living serving the discarded and washed up. She's honestly not bad-looking. Most are just thrown off by her manish voice and masculine features.

“Yes, well, I hear from reliable sources that this is where one can procure certain...services.”

Doris leans over on the bar counter.

“What kind of services are we talking about here?”

Farquadd leans in as well.

“I need someone to find a different someone to then get rid of that somebody.”

“So a hit?”

“If you want to be blunt about it, yes.”

“Well, take your pick. We got a smörgåsbord of choices.”

She nods her head off to the side over to a table.

“There's the cheap newbies that want to make a name for themselves...”

She then points him elsewhere.

“The old salt professionals that'll cost you an arm and a leg...”

And she gestures over to the other side.

“And your mixed bag of nuts that are a few needles short of a haystack if you get my meaning. Take your pick.”

Farquadd scans the options and sneers with uncertainty.

“I was hoping for something a little more...pleasing. Someone discrete yet effective. Someone none would think was capable of harm but could make a body disappear like it was an accident.”

Doris gives a knowing smirk.

“Oh...Okay. I know just who you want.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. But they aren't here right now.”

“What?”

“Relax. They'll be here soon. They're just taking out the trash.”

This confuses him till the door opens and a woman comes in with a guy under her arm.

“Hey, all! Look who I found in the woods. You all be nice to my buddy now. He's a little shy.”

The 'buddy' in question is the Pied Piper and he looks a little awkward but grateful.

“There's your hire.”

Farquadd looks at Doris funny.

“The minstrel?”

“No. Her.”

His confusion grows.

“The woman?”

“Who else?”

Doris waves to the woman to come over. She leaves Piper and comes over to the bar.

“Yes, Miss Doris. Is there more you need me to do?”

“Lynsie, this fellow wants to hire you for some business.”

“Oh?”

The young lady gets a good look at her would-be client.

He's a good foot shorter than her but that means nothing to her, hell, dwarves are typical pubgoers. His outfit of mainly red and black with gold accents which suggests high status. Sporting a 5 o'clock shadow on his prominent square-shaped jawline and a large chin, shoulder-length black hair cut in a sleek straight bob with blunt bangs resembling a pageboy haircut, and his posture and expressions convey arrogance and self-importance. He wears a red, velvet-like tunic with gold trim, puffed sleeves with black undersleeves, matching red gloves, and a wide red hat. He also wears black leggings, black knee-high boots, a black belt with a gold buckle adorned with a blue jewel, and a red cape that adds to his regal, albeit pompous, appearance. His clothing emphasizes his status and attempts to convey power and control.

All in all, not bad looking.

“And what kind of job can I help you with, fair sir?”

In turn, Farquadd does the same, giving this potential hire a good-looking over.

A bit tall for a woman but compared to the others in the pub she is what he'd deem a lady to be, his standards and bias being absurdly high. Appearance-wise, she's nothing to shake a stick at in his eyes, with no makeup or attempt to be feminine to fix up her tired-looking face aside from some bland metal earrings, it's no wonder she's a tavern wench to this rotten little hovel. Yet...Her beautifully layered dress with an eggplant velvet, lace-up waist cincher, an attached cream crinkled bodice, and sleeves, as well as an attached purple iridescent satin skirt with a sage green overskirt, and with a floral wreath with ribbons did make her figure worth looking at. That soft creamy brown hair held aloft in a high ponytail reaching her shoulders. Plus those eyes, like muddy emeralds lit with embers waiting to burn in intensity.

Okay, maybe his standards had some leeway after all.

“My apologies, where are my manners? I am Lord Maximus Farquaad, ruler of the kingdom of Duloc.”

He takes her by the hand and pets her knuckles instead of kissing them for sanitary reasons.

“It must be such a pleasure to meet such a fine gentleman like myself.”

His egotistical words make Doris roll her eyes as she gets back to serving and the young woman merely smiles.

“You honor me, sir. Please, let us go discuss business in quieter settings.”

She motions to private rooms off to the side.

“Ah, right. Let's go, Thelonious.”

The torturer picks Farquadd up and they head off towards the rooms. Once out of earshot, Doris scoffs.

“That guy's ego is bigger than he is.. Bet supporting such a heavy low is why he's so short.”

“Ego or not, it's nothing I can't handle. Guys like that like feeling high and mighty, the center of attention. So I'll play my part and bat my eyes, be sent off to kill some bum, then make some serious coin. Business as always.”

Doris puts a glass of milk on the counter for her to drink.

“You know...You're still young. A girl like you should be out living life to the fullest after getting out of that hell of a house. Not staying cooped up in your room when not working in the bar or off doing dirty work. You're better than that, sweetheart.”

Lynsie sighs through her nose and takes the milk, mulling Doris's words over as she downs the glass.

“You make a fine point, Miss Doris. But I don't know. I am free. I have been taught skills and given reign over what path I can walk. Yet I am not accustomed to having such free will. I basically have all the tools I could ever need but have no clue what to build. You know? I have no idea what to do with my life. Is this all I'm good for? Is this all my meaning?”

“Whoa whoa whoa! Getting way too deep on me, dear.”

“Sorry.”

Doris pats Lynsie's head reassuringly.

“We all don't know what we're supposed to do with our lives. But worrying about it won't do anything other than stress you out. You'll find your calling one day. Just keep an open heart and have faith.”

“Don't you mean open mind?”

“I know what I said. If you follow your heart, you'll find what makes you happy.”

Lynsie smiles.

“Thank you, Miss Doris. You're the best.”

She puts the now empty glass down and heads off to the private rooms to get this potential job started.

Doris watches her go as her sister Mable comes out from the kitchen to swap places.

“You got that mom look on your face. Did something happen? Oh! Don't tell me you and Hook are...?”

“No. We're waiting till marriage before thinking of kids. I'm just worried about our little sweetheart.”

“Need me to go talk to her?”

“She's with a client right now.”

“Ah, before bed it is.”

The sisters don't often rent out rooms unless absolutely needed or out of emergency. Lynsie was an exception when she came around some months ago asking for work, and due to not having a home they gave her room. Never did they think this girl was a wandering mercenary and killed before the age of 10. Once they got her to open up about her past...yeah...Made way more sense. Fleeing an abusive mother, shit siblings, and being taken in by roaming bandits before being recruited as the apprentice of The Master Thief will lead one to be anything but normal while giving them a major existential crisis. Still, they know she's a strong girl. Having gone through all that is proof enough. So if she can take on all the horrors life threw at her and still be as gentle, they have faith their little live-in part-timer can find her true calling.

…

In the back private rooms, Farquadd sits with Thelonius as Lynsie pours them all some water.

“I apologize for the wait, gentlemen. I help the bar when not taking jobs such as the one you seek.”

She sits and Farquadd swirls his cup while Thelonius drinks.

“Quite alright, dear. It can't be helped. It's just what you common folk do, working so much and whatnot. It's like a hobby for you people.”

She looks at Thelonius and even while hooded she can read the “just fake it” look in his eyes, so she ignores the lord's basic ineptitude.

“So then, with pleasantries out of the way, let's put our cards on the table as they say...”

Pulling the ribbon from her hair out, the held locks fall and she fluffs her hair casually.

“What kind of mission is it you want done?”

Farquadd looks her up and down. Might as well since, well, he is but a man. Thelonius fidgets slightly.

“Before that, how am I to know you are qualified for handling tasks of importance such as what I have in mind?”

She rumbles faintly growing perturbed.

“Always the same...”

“What was that?”

“Is it because I'm a woman you doubt me? If it is, I'm used to it. No one thinks the little lady serving drinks can possibly be as skilled as claimed. I mean, the other rouges look so ragged, but me? My skin seems so fair...”

She rubs her arms in slow skimming teases, brushing against her chest, her voice dipping into softer honey-laced tones.

“I'm too delicate. So fragile and frail. How could I possibly harm anyone, let alone a fly?”

Did the temperature suddenly rise in here or is it just them?

“But a smart man, such as yourself, knows not to be fooled by appearances. For even something as harmless as a rose has thorns that can make the strongest cry like infants. Wouldn't you agree, my lord~?”

She didn't have to go that far, he was buttered up already. But the sweet way she said his title had him burning. Oh, she's good. Poor Thelonius grips his glass so much it's starting to crack. Farquadd shakily composes himself and clears his throat.

“Um, y-yes. That's...That's quite right, my dear. Appearances can often be very...very misleading.”

“So you're not worried then that I am what I say I am and just so happen to be a woman?”

“Not one bit.”

“Good...Then if price is what you find worrisome, I'm reasonably flexible. But I assure you, that doesn't mean my skills are lacking. Because if you want something stolen...”

She merely shifts in her seat, crossing her legs to show off a bit more skin, causing the men to be distracted and not notice anything till they look up to see she's holding their belts.

“I can steal it.”

She tosses the belts to them. Farquadd putting his on right away.

“And if you want someone dead...”

She unclasped a pin on her bust, bending it straight, and flicking it behind them...pinning a fly by its wings.

“I can kill them.”

Farquadd is astounded and Thelonius whistles in amazement.

“Now, please, don't make me repeat myself as I hate wasting time. What is it you want done?”

Her voice remains warm but has a more serious inflection to it. Taken aback but now understanding this is the skill he was looking for, Farquadd grins. This isn't some wench just trying to seduce him into wasting his gold, no. This woman is the complete package. A femme fatale. No wonder the barkeep suggested her. She's perfect!

“My dear, do you know...The Muffin Man?”

She looks at him funny.

“The Muffin Man?”

“Yes, the Muffin Man. I want him gone.”

“Oh? How interesting.”

She lounges back, a confident and curious look about her features.

“Yes, I have heard of him. It's a bit surprising to hear he's the target. Did he sell you bad sweets or something? Maybe a not-so-funny prank cake that was less than flattering?”

Thelonious snickers and Farquadd sneers.

“No. I'd never consume any of his filth. His corrupted confections are a pox on my perfect kingdom. I want it so that the only thing baking in that little shop of sugary horrors is him and all his disgusting doughy freaks! Leave no crumb unburnt o ash! I will remove his sickness from my land, cleansing it with blood if I have to! I will have order! I will have perfection!”

His temper flares, throwing his water against a wall and shattering the glass. He huffs a few times before composing himself once more.

“I apologize. That was most unbecoming of me.”

She waves him off.

“Relax. It's fine. I've seen worse and dealt with stronger outbursts. Consider it as if it didn't happen.”

She gets up.

“A hit of this size, a man and his business, it isn't too big. Striking at night will avoid unnecessary casualties and witnesses. And, just to be clear, this is a pure elimination, correct? Not an 'accident' or attack of competitive espionage from a rival gone wrong? You want him dead and for it to be obvious that it was murder?”

“Yes.”

Farquadd joins her in standing.

“I want this as a statement. And that statement being magic is no longer welcomed anymore!”

While her expressions have been rather collected and benign since meeting him, the mention of his intent causes her demeanor to flinch ever so slightly. She's not magical. She's not a fairy tale. She's a nursery rhyme, or at least, a part of one. Her mother was the rhyme's main focus and none of the children or even the Old Woman were properly named in it. But she is part of it nonetheless. And she knows it. She knows she's different from normal people. And this man's intent...It is unsettling for a world of magic.

He takes note of this subtle flinch but knows how to sway those with “moral dilemmas”. He snaps his fingers and Thelonius stands, grabbing his pants quickly as he forgot about the belt thing, fixing that before pulling out a sack of gold and offering it to her.

“I am a very generous man, my dear. This is but half of your payment. You'll get the rest upon completion.”

She takes the bag and opens it, eyeing the hefty sum.

“So...Do we have a deal?”

Farquadd offers his hand and she sighs, mentally getting herself in the right state of mind to proceed, then taking his hand.

“Consider it done.”

She takes his hand and her sudden strong grip surprises him, yet he chuckles.

“Excellent. How soo-...”

“Do not question more, I have to prepare.”

Her demeanor is different. What pleasantness there was is now stoic professionalism. Her eyes even harden in focus.

“I will leave tomorrow and send word of success upon completion. If, for whatever reason you hear nothing after a week, then something has happened.”

That quirks his brow.

“Are you insinuating you can fail?”

“I'm being realistic. Life is unpredictable. Even flawlessly laid plans can falter. But I do not relent once I'm on a target. And, barring some randomness beyond control happens, I won't.”

Not many of her kind would be so forthcoming with things like that. Had he picked any of the others in the bar, they likely would just boast about how amazing they were and it would be impossible to fail.

“...You're rather honest for someone in your line of work.”

“Lying is pointless and a waste of time. That and it's just bad business. You can't trust a lie when you know the truth. Claiming otherwise only shows how pathetic one truly is.”

“Oh...Oh, I like you.”

With a smirk, he claps his hands and Thelonius picks him up.

“A pleasure doing business with you, my dear. May we meet again. Maybe on more causal circumstances?”

She bows her head and does a one-handed curtsy.

“Perhaps. Take care, gentlemen.”

“Let's go, Thelonius. We mustn't take too much of the fair lady's time. We have a long ride ahead of us.”

She watches them leave and glares at the door once they're gone. She doesn't like it. This is beneath her. A baker? This noble picks an mercenary with high ranking assassin skills...to kill a BAKER?! What is the point? He doesn't even want all her skills used. He wants a murder. Any of the guys in the bar can do that. This was insulting. But a job is a job. The coin is decent. And...she hated everything about it.

A roar of frustration cries out, silencing most with the haunting sound.

Outside, Farquadd is helped back on his horse as he and his men begin the ride back to Duloc.

“Were you able to acquire the services you were looking for, my lord?”

“Indeed. An unexpected find, but a promising one nonetheless.”

“I liked her.”

Thelonius adds much to the puzzlement of the other men.

“True. Shame she's a commoner. Such beauty is wasted out of noble blood. But her skills? Now that is worth adding to one's ranks. Perhaps I can negotiate a deal for her to be my chambermaid? But that all depends on her success of course. Can't let weak failures in my court. Everything must be perfect.”

Questionable glances are shared between the men. Did...Did Farquadd score a lady of ill repute?

“My lord, do forgive me, but I thought you came here for an assassin?”

“I did and I have.”

The guardsmen captain is still confused.

“But you said it's a woman?”

“My good man, are you questioning my choices? Did you think I fell for some ditsy harlot that flaunted herself for coin? Because we can turn around and I will gladly enjoy watching her humiliate you in front of not just your men, but that entire hovel of villainous scum. In fact...I'm tempted to do just that.”

“N-N-No need! My apologies, my lord. I misspoke. I won't do so again.”

Farquadd smirks. Nothing like threatening someone's masculinity to get his jollies.

“See to it that you don't. Who knows. If all goes well, I might hire her permanently. If she can get rid of those freaks for me, I won't have to deal with that pompous Horner any longer. Blasted nursery rhymes. They're just as bad as fairy tales but less magical. Barely makes them tolerable. One day...One day I'll be rid of them all.”

Oh, if only this little lord knew of the rumors spoken behind his back. Some speculated Farquadd was not so short due to genetic reasons...sort of. The tea was that he himself was of fairy tale lineage, the child of one of the seven dwarves that aided Snow White and a different princess. Some even went so far as to say his parentage was the dwarf Grumpy and the Pea Princess, sighting his reason for hating all things magic on his hate of his father. How this was thought up is unknown. But oh how fun it would be to watch as he learned that people were besmirching his name in such a way. He'd give the Queen of Hearts a run for her money with how many beheadings he'd have done for this heinous crime.

[Four days later on Drury Lane]

Twas a night like any other for the marvelous Muffin Man and he had just finished taking care of his tidying up after closing. The Muffin Man is a middle-aged man with graying brown hair, a mustache, a goatee beard, and sporting a pair of glasses. He wears a classic white baking uniform, a tall white chef hat and apron, a red scarf, and a badge with his initials in gold.

Simple things like this will make tomorrow run smoother if they get done now, like preparing ingredients, getting the right utilities out, washing dishes, and sweeping up crumbs. Little things like this help him relax and put his mind at ease. Not that the day was hard, oh no. Quite the opposite. The day treated him well. Very well. He had lots of customers and they all enjoyed his wares. Any baker worth their salt gets no better joy than when someone else is made happy by their confections. Though, now that he thinks about it, there was one oddity about his day. Or rather, a few random bits of strangeness that's been happening for the last few days. It's all been incidental minor stuff so he didn't give it much thought. But four days now? He'd be lying to himself if he didn't admit it was eerie.

On the first night, he just thought he heard critters that snuck about looking for sugary goodies, only there was no sign of such things and he didn't hear the sound again.

On the second day, he found his work schedule out and open in his room, he had no idea how that was as he had sworn it was in his desk drawer but chalked it up to misremembering.

Last night, there was a scuffle and the clatter jolted him awake, he found a trail of crumbs leading to his back door which was open with no one insight.

Now today, his usual order of ingredients was delivered and all seemed fine, but as he helped the courier that's when they noticed there was one crate more than the typical order. The woman had a simple explanation, it was marked on her list as to be brought here and had his name on it, so it likely was just extra that didn't get pact right in one crate and needed two to still give him what he ordered. It was an answer he accepted at the time as it made some sense. But now...now he's not sure. With all the strangeness happening it's begun to make him paranoid. That crate is now sitting in his storage room.

“Hey...”

The sudden voice frightens the poor man and he nearly smacks Gingy, the living gingerbread cookie with his broom. Gingy is no bigger than a grown human hand and decorated with colored frosting, blue for the brows, red for the mouth, and white for the eyes along with limb accents. Two grape gumdrop buttons of which he is very protective of.

“Whoa! Watch it!”

Realization hits and he is quick to drop the broom, visibly shaken as he approaches the table where the cookie stands.

“Gingy...M-My boy, I'm so sorry...”

“Papa? You alright? You don't look so good.”

The man rubs his face and steadies his breathing.

“Just my nerves. Maybe too much thinking. Nothing a good night's rest won't fix.”

Gingy looks concerned but nods.

“Yeah, you do that. Leave the rest of the cleanup to me. I'll have it done in a jiffy.”

Muffin Man smiles and pats the cookie's head softly.

“You're a good boy, Gingy. Goodnight.”

“Night papa.”

Muffin Man heads for his room. Gingy watches for a bit before leaping down to go find a spare toothbrush he can sweep with.

Maybe he was just tired and his worries were piling up to make up things that weren't really there. He'll feel better in the morning once he gets some rest and back into his normal routine. He opens his door...

*BAM*

The man goes flying back and tumbles, knocking over things as he falls to the ground. Gingy hides and peaks out as a figure emerges from his father's room. This figure is in nothing but black from head to toe, from their gloves to their tights to their long sleeves and the hooded cloak that hides their face. Heavy boots tread gently against the floorboards. Gingy can't make out details as they seem to be a living shadow in all that black, the cloak even hiding what the attacker is, heck, he barely can see their eyes.

“You really should lock your windows...”

How ironic this assailant's voice is as sweet as the baked goods around them. Though it sounded slightly familiar in an odd way to the cookie.

“You'll catch your death if you're not careful.”

The Muffin Man writhes on the floor, disoriented, the blow to his head being one thing but he lost his glasses too, so his blurry vision isn't making his dizzied mind any better. Still, while he can't see the figure's shape in the dim light, he can see the shine that glints off of a dagger and he scrambles in trying to move away.

“S-Stay back!”

“Don't be foolish. You're only delaying the inevitable.”

The figure stalks after him ominously, slowly, and deliberately, unbothered by his attempt to flee. Gingy, while frightened, isn't about to just stand there and watch as his father is killed. He has to do something. So he looks around for what he can use and scampers away out of sight. The Muffin Man manages to get back on his feet and feels around for things he can defend himself with. This results in him chucking random items at the figure. A vase of flowers. A book or two. A frying pan that he regretted throwing. And so much more till he's backed against a wall with a large rolling pin held tightly to his chest.

“Are you done?”

Sweat drips down his brow, his chattering teeth and his heart thundering deafening his hearing. He knows if he doesn't do something he's a dead man. So, despite his quacking knees, he lunges with the rolling pin to give this attacker a good walloping. But, again, he can't see them all that well. So when he lunges, the figure captures the utensil in their free hand and yanks it from him, making him trip.

“I hate taking jobs like this. This is just insulting.”

The figure whacks the Muffin Man with the rolling pin and knocks him down, treading around him.

“You know something? You and I have something in common. We both take pride in our craft. We worked hard to hone our skills and master techniques that are to be desired. Yet, here we are. You, a man with such talent that you can bring your goods to life...”

The figure flings the rolling pin off to the side and it hits a row of hanging pots, knocking them loose atop Gingy who had managed to find a knife of his own but is now enclosed under a sauce pot.

“Then there's me, a trained master in the art of taking things. Be it objects, information, or lives.”

The figure kicks the Muffin Man's side and flips him onto his back.

“And I don't know about you, but nothing pisses me off more than wasting time. But that's what this is. A big waste of time. You're a baker. You have no defenses. No fighting skills. Any moron could've been used for this job. Hell, the only dangerous thing about this whole mission was the pair of raccoons I found in your attic. By the way, you're welcome. I got them out before they made a nest. Lord knows that would be a major health code violation.”

“R-Raccoons?”

That explains a few things. The skittering sounds, the crumb trail, his open back door...

“W-Wait. Then...What's that extra crate?”

He thinks aloud.

“Oh, that? It's as I told you. It's your order, but they packed it all wonky, so there's just an extra box. If you're thinking I was in there...I wasn't.”

His eyes widen when he hears that and it clicks in his mind.

“Y-You...You're the courier?!”

The figure kneels over him.

“Thank you for your patronage and have a simply sweet day~.”

He shivers as he hears those words again and in that innocently chipper voice. The figure brings their dagger to his throat, dragging the blade faintly along his skin.

“You're a predictable man. So routine I can set a clock by you. Your little work schedule alone made this all so shamefully easy. This is like taking candy from a baby, but worse because the baby is blind.”

They groan in annoyance.

“This isn't personal or anything. I take no enjoyment in this. But once I'm given a task, I see it through.”

The figure grabs him by the throat and climbs on top of him, their weight keeping him from struggling too much but also an awkward feeling has him freeze stiff as the dagger is held up high ready to strike.

“Any last words or final requests? I respect the rights of the dead so long as it's reasonable.”

“So...L-Letting me go is off the table?”

“Correct.”

“Worth a shot.”

This is it. These are the Muffin Man's last moments. Thankfully for him, Gingy can't see this happening, his poor little candy eyes would sour if he were to witness such a horrible sight.

“Fine. Kill me. But you'll never get my secrets!”

“I'm not here for your secrets. I'm here purely because you're wanted dead.”

Confusion flashes on his face. This...This wasn't about his baking secrets? Then does that mean...?

“Goodbye, Muffin Man.”

The figure brings the blade down.

“You're not working for Horner?”

Cold steel stops inches above his left eye, his lashes brushing against it as he blinks. He's going to need a change of pants after this.

“What did you say?”

The man is still in “holy shit I nearly died” shock and doesn't speak, leading to the figure stabbing the dagger into the floor beside him before yanking him up by the hair to get in his face.

“Answer me! How do you know that name?!”

“W-What?”

“Horner! How do you know that name?!”

“I...I...I...”

His voice struggles to work as, well, he's unsure if he's still gonna get killed or not. A sudden blurry movement is in his vision, a brown lump holding a shiny object. This is also seen reflected in his gaze.

“Don't risk it, cookie. I can still snap his neck before you even move another step.”

Seems Gingy had slipped out of the pot and crept up behind them for a sneak attack with the knife he found. Sadly for Gingy, this assassin is very good at what they do.

“Please...Don't hurt my papa.”

Gingy lets the knife fall and the figure sighs.

“Once I'm given a task, I see it through...”

The figure lets go of Muffin Man much to their dismay.

“But, I don't like this task. So I'm going to make you a deal.”

The figure takes back their dagger and tucks it away as they stand up.

“I won't do what I was paid to and give you the information on who sent me, in exchange for what you know about that name...and I'll clean up this mess. Seems only fair for the trouble I've caused.”

The figure pulls back their hood and shows their face. The face of a tired woman. She offers her hand.

“Do we have a deal?”

Gingy gasps.

“The delivery girl?!”

She rolls her eyes.

“We've already established that, yes.”

The Muffin Man takes a moment to calm his rapid heart and breathing before nodding, taking her hand.

“Deal.”

She pulls him up with surprising ease, this slightly portly grown man weighing nothing to the younger woman.

“Thank you.”

“Do not thank me. You got lucky. Had you not said that name you'd be dead right now. Now then...”

She collects the fallen broom and starts cleaning.

“Tell me what you know.”

And with that, the dreadful turmoil inside the bakery had come to an end. The night resumes its peace while dim candlelight remains lit inside the building.

The Muffin Man holds up his end and divulges what little he knows. He knows the name Horner as it's a baked goods competitor that's been popping up in the area recently that mostly does pies and other desserts. It's relatively new to Far Far Away, what with the main hub of the business being across the sea, so he's not sure of the exact location. He had heard rumors of the ruthless actions the company was willing to take to ensure business and had figured she was sent to kill him for that very reason.

On her end, she informs him of Lord Farquadd of the Kingdom of Duloc hiring her to kill him because he has a disdain for magic. She even shows on a map where Duloc is, as she had ventured there before, and cautions them to avoid it, as Farquadd didn't seem to know the baker's location otherwise he'd have just sent his men instead of her or would've told her when arranging the hit. As compensation for her attempt and payment for a favor, she gives the man 50 gold coins, requesting he send a letter to the Poison Apple informing the ugly step-sisters of the transpired events...and that she won't be returning.

With nothing further to say and having done as promised, she leaves the Muffin Man to live with the information given, doing with it what he pleases. To his credit, the man heeds her warning and would never set foot near Duloc. The same can't be said about Gingy, who would later attempt to sneak in and end up being captured. But that is a different story for some other time.

[Time skip]

It has been quite the journey.

After using what gold she had left to buy information, food reserves, and decent travel across the waves, Lynsie finds herself as far from her roots as she thought possible. She was now in Spain and it was a bit of a culture shock at first. That and her Spanish was rusty, barely understanding things and having to pantomime to convey things on her end.

She started this self-imposed mission long ago, a promise made in her youth that she vowed to uphold, and only now so many years later was she able to make due on.

All out of gold, she has been wandering from ports to villages, to towns, and so on relearning the language as she finds Horner Pie shops along the way. The logo used is something she's not seen before but recognized all the same and the initials J. H. speak volumes to long-held memories. She gets lucky one day, spotting a shipping cart making its departure from the village of Del Mar after restocking the shop there. Now, it's not like she could catch a ride in the open back of the cart. But after causing a distraction that made the cart stop for a time, she hooked to the underside and went along for the ride unbeknownst to the driver.

After a miserable painstakingly bumpy ride, the cart finally starts to slow down and she detaches to at least let her body remember what it's like to not be moving. When her senses settle, she takes in these new surroundings. The vibrant sky is cast into dark dull cloudy haze as vast plumes of bellowing smoke from industry choke the space above. The Tudor-style buildings of this city are odd in this part of Spain, due to them being English in origin, but it has all the charm one would expect from a city of such welcoming architecture and ambitious folks. She walks the cobblestone streets, taking in the oddly comforting ambiance.

Suddenly her nose is hit with a smell that triggers nostalgia. The sweet sugary scent of plums. She follows the aroma deep into the city's heart till she comes to a bridge that leads to an enormous factory that sits in an equally massive river that cuts through the city. Quite smart to use the current as a power source. The gate is huge but she can make out the golden glinting J. H. on the doors.

“From a humble wagon to all this? Most impressive, Jack.”

As she strides over the bridge, the deep sounds of the factory provide a wired rumble that is unnatural yet oddly inviting, even if the blazing roaring chimneys sound like slumbering dragons. Near the gates, a man sits on a barrel and looks in thought, sort of out of place but one could assume he's just taking a break. There is a small boat tied to one of the lamp posts along the bridge wall. Perhaps a grounds keeper that ensures the water wheels don't get jammed. Upon getting a better look, he's in a uniform, the emblem of J. H. on his vest. He takes notice of her and stands.

“Halt! What business do you have here?”

She pays him no mind and stares up at the gate, above the doors is a golden version of the logo she's seen on shops, only this thing looks like it's done to resemble a noble crest. As if this were a castle. Then again, it's not like the building is too far off from looking like one. It makes her chuckle.

“My, look how far you've come. They can't ignore you now, can they?”

The guard unsheathes a sword from his side and points it at her.

“This is your only warning. You are trespassing on the property of "Big" Jack Horner. Leave now or your life is forfeit.”

“Calls himself "Big" now, does he? Interesting...”

She turns around and walks back, making the guard eye her. His suspicion proves right as she spins back around bolting at him.

“This I have to see for myself”

He charges at her and swings, but she leaps, using him as a springboard to then jump onto the lamp beside him. She continues to bound off the lamps like a deer till she lands atop the fortified wall.

“A word of advice. Get a different job.”

The man is not too happy about this.

“Intruder at the gates!”

He shouts and she rolls her eyes.

“Someone's a sore loser.”

She jumps down as guards rush in, brandishing swords, long poleaxes, and bows at the ready to fire. It's a good amount of people. At least twenty or so. So much enforcement for a baked goods factory?

“I take it no one is up for doing this the easy way?”

They aim their weapons and she cracks her neck, limbering up.

“Okay. But I'll hold back. Killing you all would make me look like a poor guest.”

She holds her arms out and slowly pops her fingers one by one before punching a guard with a poleaxe, stealing his weapon, and kicking off one hell of a brawl the guard on the bridge wishes he could see.

…

Inside the factory, Big Jack Horner is locked deep in thought at his office desk, the quill in his hand writes steadily as he tends to the mundane amount of paperwork that comes from operating such a vast expanding enterprise. The latest reports from his test shops in Far Far Away came in with mixed figures. Some products are easier to sell than others. Some things never change. Plum is still not a commodity people want there. Oh well. That's why these are tests. No real financial loss in trying, not when he makes up for it with sales over here. Still hard to believe his family had to leave their homeland to finally make it big. Nursery Rhymes always did have it hard over there. Some more than others.

His quill stills for a moment. An old memory comes to mind before being cast away. What nonsense. He hasn't thought about that time in his youth in ages. That brief time when he was eight and met a girl.

“Then be strong. Be strong for her and yourself. Mama promises her sweet little man that one day you'll have everything you ever wanted. Even her. Can you be strong till that day comes?”

He scoffed at the thought. How cruel of his mother to make such a promise. Any such faith in it was dashed once they crossed the sea. No. If he was going to have everything he's ever wanted, he'd have to make it happen himself. It's why he works so hard. Why he uses every dirty trick in the book to gain power. Why he hardened himself into a cold remorseless soul bent on nothing but his own needs. It's why he did everything he could to overcome and overshadow his childhood self to be the big man that he is now. Aside from some old posters from the factory's humbled beginnings, there's not a trace of "Little" Jack Horner anymore. Only a big man with big goals and bigger ambitions. And he preferred to keep it that way.

“Mr. Horner!”

A guardsman rushes into his office. Not a smart move. Jack doesn't like it when people bust in like that.

“You have five seconds to give me a good reason not to chuck you out a window.”

The guard gulps, knowing that's not a threat...it's a guarantee.

“Sir, we're under attack.”

This gets Jack to look at him with a mildly curious brow.

“The gates have been breached and the men manning the front have been beaten. We're currently doing what we can to keep them in the main hall and tire them out, but we don't know for how long-...”

*CRASH*

“Oh shit, they got in!”

The guard departs to try to deal with this but now Jack is interested. It's not every day that some idiot grew some balls and attacked his factory. Probably after his magic collection. Why else? Still, something didn't sound right. Tire them out? So it's not a group? No way this is just one person. It can't be. ...Right?

His interest peaked, Jack got up and headed out to see this action for himself. Beats doing paperwork for another hour, so this is hopefully an entertaining break in his day. Following the sound of clashing brouhaha into the depths of the factory, Jack comes upon a rather perplexing scene. A figure cloaked in black and bounding about making his men look like idiots, simply making them attack each other while doing the bare minimum of defense when needed. Like...What the hell? These are his men? Is this the quality he's paying for? How is one person making a joke out of this by breaking in and not even taking it seriously enough to kill anyone? This isn't entertaining. This is just annoying. It only pisses him off.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!”

This was more or less directed at his guards, but the sheer intensity of his voice made everyone finch. His guards flinch. Random staff flinch. Even mice in the walls and passing birds flinch at his booming yell. But the figure? They get affected the worse. Not only did they flinch, but they shrunk in on themselves and protectively braced for excepted blows to follow. This is enough of a break in their concentration that the guards can subdue them. This seemed too easy and way too anticlimactic for Jack to accept.

“Bring them over here. I want to see who this moron is.”

They do as told and this is when figure snaps out of their stupor, forcing a jerk back before kicking them away to rush up to Jack...only to stop at the tip of his shadow.

“Wow. You really did get big...Neat.”

Jack eyes this odd intruder as they pull their hood back to show their face and to say he's surprised to see it's a woman would be an understatement. Especially their choice of words, which was puzzling.

“You know, for someone that broke in, you are doing a lousy job of killing and stealing.”

She tilts her head like a confused puppy.

“I mean, yeah, you're not wrong. But I didn't come all this way to do any of that. I came to see you.”

Now this was just weird.

“Not what I was expecting. But I've heard stupider things.”

She huffs at this.

“You don't remember me, do you?”

“Am I supposed to?”

She palms her face.

“I get we've both gone through changes over the last, what, twenty years? But I would've thought I made some kind of impression on you.”

She pauses for thought as the guards creep up to nab her once more, but Jack holds out his hand and makes them wait. He wants to see where this is going.

“Oh! Right. Probably giving my name would make this simpler.”

She clears her throat and smiles.

“It's me, Jack. It's Lynn.”

That name hits him like a ton of bricks. Flashes of his youth and brief time with her come to the forefront of his mind. It can't be. This can't be her...Can it? She wasn't like this. She was pathetic and weak. This woman is far from it. But if not, who would know he even knew someone of that name at some point? Certainly no one here. Still, he had to be sure. This required proper investigating.

“Come with me.”

Jack turns on his heel and starts walking.

“Okie-dokie.”

She follows up beside him, taking in his appearance and comparing it to her memories of him. The guards are beyond baffled. That woman just broke in and caused so much chaos, yet their boss is just...letting her go with him? Who the hell is she and what the heck is up with Jack?

Jack brings her to his office, locking the door to ensure privacy.

“You look different.”

He mutters.

“So do you.”

She retorts as she stands in the center of the room, watching as he circles her and takes her in, studying her. She gets it. He doesn't trust so easily. She'll need to convince him with things that only they know.

“You don't think it's really me, do you?”

He says nothing and she sighs.

“Can't believe I have to do this...”

She grumbles and he stops to eye her when she pulls the cloak off completely, as a show she's got nothing to hide. The tights she wears hug her figure, she's curvy but skinny, a far cry from the malnourished kid he recalls, but it still seems she doesn't get enough to eat. She grabs the end of her top and turns her back to him, pulling it up to show her horribly scarred back. His eyes widen with recollection. Yep...it's her.

“I might look different, but I know you can't forget seeing this. When we first met, you brought me to your parents. Your mom took care of the bleeding. Your dad gave me pie. It was my first time having pie...I wept. It was so delicious. The first real thing I considered a meal in lord knows how long. You called me weird because I cried while smiling. But I was just so happy. Strangers were being nice...to me...without expectancy or malice...I was...so overwhelmed.”

Her voice was waning as if trying to avoid succumbing to the emotions that were attempting to come out. He doesn't speak, all he does is take in the sight. Slowly he cautiously touches the menagerie of devited flesh, his large index finger skimming over the deep lashes and making her squirm uncomfortably. But she takes it. If he needs to feel her shame to be sure it's really her, then so be it.

“You never told us who did this, but we knew.”

His voice breaks the awkward silence that had built up.

“With how you'd get all freaked out if we mentioned your mother, it wasn't hard to figure it out.”

Her head hangs low, her gaze on the floor.

“The night your wagon left...It was the worst beating I can remember. I think it hurt more because I...I had no one anymore. No safe place to forget that THAT was my life. She left me to die. With how bad it was, I know she had to believe I would be dead come morning. But I...I didn't want to die. I refused.”

She pulls her top back down.

“I ran away. Got taken in by a group of bandits. Raised as a killer. Got picked up by The Master Thief. Was his apprentice for a while. Took up mercenary life as a means of making coin and covered as a bar waitress for a bit. And...that's about it. My dull uneventful life wrapped in a nutshell up to this point.”

He chuckles at her nonchalant way of describing some pretty intense shit.

“If that's what you call dull, I'm curious as to what would be considered hectic.”

“And what of you? What happened to you after, you know, your wagon moved on that day?”

The amusement on his face bleeds into more of a sour grimace. He didn't like his childhood. Scratch that, he hated it. But he knows she hates hers way more. So he copies her way of explaining. Keeping things as simple as he can.

“We moved around some more. Saving coin when able. My old man got this idea in his head, since competition was a pain, we could try going elsewhere. Somewhere that didn't know of us, our pies, or was hounded by cheap magic bullshit...”

He clenches his fists till his knuckles bleach. It's a moment that is brief, but it's telling all the same. He still has a temper and disdain of magic.

“Luckily, his idea was a good one. Plums weren't common here and pie was mostly used for meat dishes. It wasn't long till we dominated the market on pastries. Business boomed. We settled in a small town that sat on major trade routes and built a small shop. But nothing stayed small for very long.”

“Clearly.”

She interjects.

“This place might as well be a castle. The town is a city. And you...well...Puberty hit you big time. And I do mean BIG.”

That was a welcomed reaction for him. Usually, others would jab at his appearance or bring up his old moniker. It's nice having his stature seen as impressive.

“Yes, I did hit a bit of a growth spurt, didn't I?

“Understatement of the year. Look at you! I used to be level with you. Now...What, you're like, two feet taller?!”

Oh, how his ego was loving this.

“You used to be so timid. Where did this side of you come from?”

She smirks.

“I was this way to you back then too. You just didn't like it.”

He leans back against his desk, his eyes scanning her face, trying to reconcile the memory of a timid beaten girl with the strong confident woman before him. Memories of a time when he was still "Little" Jack Horner, the kid with big dreams and a heart that hadn't yet been hardened completely by life's harsh realities. But those days were long gone, and now, he was "Big" Jack Horner, a man who didn't take kindly to nostalgia or sentimentality. His mind raced, filled with questions he wasn't sure he wanted answers to.

“So...How did you find me? My name isn't known over there. Least not yet anyway.”

“The Muffin Man told me.”

He cocks his brow.

“The Muffin Man?”

“Yeah, the Muffin Man, who lives on Drury Lane.”

“And why did he tell you about me?”

“He thought I was working for you.”

“Why did he think that?”

“I was hired to kill him.”

That makes him snort a chuckle.

“What?”

“Yeah. I let him live in exchange for info. I took that info and all my coin to get here.”

He palms his face.

“You're serious? You dropped everything and spent all your money, just to find me?”

She rocks on her heels innocently.

“Well, when you put it that way, it sounds rather silly.”

“It sounds psychotic.”

“That too.”

He sighs.

“Let me ask this. Why did you do this? Come all this way and whatnot. What do you expect to happen?”

She pauses, searching for the right words. Her eyes meet his, and for a moment, the hardened veneer she built over the years weakens. Her vulnerability showing. She takes a deep breath and then speaks.

“I came because of a promise. A promise I made to myself, to your family, to you, and to the memory of a time when things felt...possible. When you and your family were the only ones who showed me that I had value. That I wasn't all the things my mom said I was. I was a good girl. I was useful. I wanted to keep living to feel that. I came here to see if...if there was still a place for me in your world.”

His expression shifts slightly, the hard lines of his face softening, but only just. He turns away, staring out the window of his office, watching the plumes of smoke rise from the chimneys, blending into the overcast sky.

“You were part of a life that I left behind, Lynsie. I had to become someone else to survive and thrive. "Little" Jack Horner doesn't exist anymore.”

She clenches her fists, working up the nerve.

“Neither does that scared little girl who lived in a shoe.”

She replies, taking a step closer.

“That child who was looked down on more lowly than dirt and was the target of unwarranted abuse died long ago. She died the moment she tasted compassion. And if both our old selves are gone, then let this be a new beginning. If that little girl can't be with that boy again, then this woman as a request...”

She stops behind him and kneels.

“Please. Jack. Allow me to serve you.”

Jack remains silent for a long moment, wrestling with his thoughts. The sheer gravity of her gesture struck a chord deep within him. The memories of their brief connection swirl in his mind. He turns to face her, his towering frame casting a long shadow over her kneeling form. When he finally speaks, his voice is low and measured.

“You honestly mean this, don't you? You want to serve me, just like that?”

She keeps her head down.

“I do.”

He sneers.

“I don't need servants who are bound by old promises or childhood memories. I need people who are loyal, capable, and unflinching. I need tools that can and will lay their lives down for my goals.”

“Then I will be your tool.”

“Don't say things you don't mean.”

“I DO mean it.”

His eyes narrow as he regards her and she looks up at him, their gaze locking, determination radiating off her despite her submissive posture. The room is thick with tension, each moment stretching out as he considers her words, her sincerity, and the potential risks and benefits of allowing her back into his life.

“Stand up.”

He commands, his voice a low rumble. She rises to her feet, her gaze steady and unwavering as she stands straight at the ready.

“You want to serve me? Prove it. I need someone who can get results, who can handle themselves under pressure, and who won't break under my command. If you can do that, maybe—just maybe—you'll earn a place here.”

She nods, her expression resolute.

“Tell me what you need, and I will get it done.”

A dark smile tugs at the corner of his lips, a plan already forming in his mind. He can see the fire in her eyes, the unyielding spirit that had survived unimaginable hardship. She wasn't the weak fragile girl he once knew. She had transformed, much like he had.

“I don't know what you've heard about me. But I, let's say, have a rather unique hobby. I'm a collector of rare magical goods.”

She cocks her brow intrigued. He hated magic as a kid. So him collecting it as an adult is a surprise.

“Tell me...Have you ever heard of The Golden Apples of the Hesperides?”

She shakes her head.

“The Garden of the Hesperides is Hera's orchard in the west, where either a single apple tree or a grove grows, producing golden apples. According to the legend, when the marriage of Zeus and Hera took place, the different deities came with nuptial presents for the latter. Among them was the goddess Gaia, with bronze branches having golden apples growing on them as a wedding gift. Hera, greatly admiring these, begged Gaia to plant them in her gardens, which extended as far as Mount Atlas. The Hesperides were given the task of tending to the grove but occasionally they'd picked apples from it themselves. Not trusting them, Hera also placed in the garden an immortal, never-sleeping, hundred-headed serpent-like dragon named Ladon as an additional safeguard, that twined and twisted around the tree.”

“Oh. Well, that's just delightful.”

He chuckles darkly, enjoying her reaction.

“Yes, it's not exactly an easy task. But I want those apples for my collection. They are said to possess immense magical properties. Your task is simple: bring me a few of these golden apples. They're highly sought after and heavily guarded, making them the perfect test of your skills.”

She takes a deep breath, her mind racing with the enormity of the challenge before her. But the fire in her eyes doesn't waver.

“I can't tell if you have faith in me or just want me gone. But either way, I'll get you those apples.”

He leans back, his expression still calculating.

“Understand this: fail, and there won't be a second chance. You'll be out on the streets, no different than where you started. Succeed, and I'll entertain this request of yours.”

She nods, her resolve firm.

“Understood. I won't fail. This will be tough, but I'll find a way. I always do.”

His eyes glint with a mixture of admiration and skepticism.

“Good. You have one month. Don't disappoint me.”

She flinches momentarily before nodding. She leaves his office, the weight of her mission settling on her shoulders. As she walks through the factory, past the bewildered guards and the rumbling machinery, her mind races with thoughts and plans. This was it. Her chance to prove herself, to reconnect with the one person who once offered her hope. She wasn't going to fail him. She had made a promise long ago, and now, she had the chance to make it happen. Nothing short of death would stop her from fulfilling it.

Back in his office, Jack returns to his desk, the weight of his empire pressing down once more. The past he thought he had buried was resurfacing, and with it, the possibility of change.

“Lynsie...let's see if you're truly as useful as you wish to be.”

[Time skip]

Days slowly turned into weeks since Lynsie embarked on her seemingly impossible mission to retrieve the Golden Apples. Every day was a grueling test of her skills, perseverance, and sheer willpower. She recalls the lessons she learned from the Master Thief, the survival instincts honed by the bandits, and the discipline and focus that kept her alive all these years. Each step forward is a testament to her growth and determination. She traveled through enchanted forests, scaled treacherous mountains, and navigated labyrinthine paths, all while dealing with mythical creatures, random lowlifes, and cunning traps both natural or not to protect the location of the sacred apples from greedy foolhardy mortals.

Meanwhile, back at the factory, Big Jack Horner went about his business with his usual ruthless efficiency. Despite his outward calm, he couldn't shake the memory of Lynsie's determined eyes and the fire that burned within them. He hadn't heard from her since she left on her seemingly impossible mission and he found himself wondering, more often than he'd like to admit, how she was faring. Part of him was certain she would fail—after all, it was a dangerous task, one that even seasoned adventurers would find daunting. Yet, another part of him—a quieter, more hopeful part—wondered if she might actually succeed. Those eyes. How they burned with a fire he hadn't seen in years.

As the deadline drew near, Jack's empire continued to expand. His factory churned out more products, his wealth grew exponentially, and his influence spread further. But in quiet moments, he wondered if she was still alive, if she had managed to survive the perilous journey, and if she would succeed in her seemingly impossible task. He found himself growing more restless. He spent more time in his office, staring out the window at the sprawling city below, lost in thought. His guards and staff noticed the change but dared not comment. "Big" Jack Horner was not a man to be questioned.

On the final day of the month, as dusk settled over the city, Jack stood in his office, his eyes fixed on the horizon. A knock sounded on the door behind him then slowly creaked open, and he turned to see one of his guards standing there, looking nervous.

“Sir, there's...”

“Did I say for you to come in?”

The calm in Jack's voice only made the guard quake, he'd forgotten to wait for permission.

“F-Forgive me, sir! It's just that...”

“Yes or no? Did I tell you to come in?”

The guard gulps.

“N-No, sir.”

“That's right. Now you're going to close the door and knock again. This time, with your face, and wait till I tell you to enter. Am I clear?”

“Y-Yes, sir.”

Reluctantly the guard shuts the door and Jack waits for it.

*THUD*

*THUD*

*THUD*

*THUD*

*THUD*

*THUD*

“Come in.”

The innocently sweet tone Jack uses is like salt on a wound. But the door opens and the guard is looking quite banged up now.

“T-There's...someone here...t-to see you.”

The guard said, his voice trembling and slurred from the damage.

Jack's expression remained stern.

“Send them in.”

The guard nodded and stepped aside. A bruised and exhausted Lynsie entered the room, her clothes tattered and dirty with some blood, but her eyes shone with that same fire he knew her for. In her hands, she death grips a small leather satchel. Jack's gaze locked onto her, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. Then, with a slow deliberate motion, he dismisses the guard. Poor guy needs to go see a nurse now.

“Well, well, look who's back.”

His voice was laced with a mixture of surprise and amusement.

“I half-expected you to end up as dragon food or worse.”

She doesn't comment back, merely drags herself to his desk and places the satchel down, a faint golden glow seeping out. Jack's eyes widened slightly, and he reached out to open the sack. Inside, nestled among some silver leaves, were three glistening golden apples. The sight was enough to momentarily silence him, and he carefully picked one up, inspecting it. It was perfect, almost otherworldly in its beauty, and radiated a subtle magical aura.

“You did it.”

Jack murmured, turning the apple in his hands, his voice low and measured.

“Impressive.”

Lynsie smiled wearily.

“I told you, I would not fail you.”

He set the apple back into the satchel and looked at her, his expression softening ever so slightly.

“May I ask...How?”

She runs a hand through her hair.

“Locating the garden and the dragon were my priorities. The Hesperides were of no threat. Mere a minor inconvenience. One that stopped when they saw the dragon go down.”

He chuckles in amusement.

“You? Took out an immortal multi-headed dragon?”

“As I said, I'm not that weak girl you remember. I had to survive, and I got good at it. That and there is more than one way to take a beast down. You said it was immortal and never slept. Not that it couldn't be paralyzed. And in my bandit days, I learned of some very powerful toxins. So...I nabbed you a little something extra while I could.”

Curiosity compelled him to dig back into the satchel and feel something smooth like glass, pulling out two vials. One has viscous crimson liquid and the other is a clear yellowish runny fluid.

“I heard Dragons are getting to be low in numbers, what with all the overcompensating idiots trying to make names for themselves killing them. So when you said you collected magical goods, it occurred to me that dragon blood and venom would be quite the additions. I would've gotten you more but, turns out an elephant's dosage of paralytic didn't last as long as I thought it would on a ticked-off dragon.”

He couldn't help but feel a swell of appreciation and slight respect as he gazed at the vials in his hand. The blood glinted ominously under the dim light of the room, while the venom seemed to catch the light with an almost ethereal shimmer. Dragon blood and venom were indeed rare commodities, highly sought after for their potent magical properties and unparalleled value. She had gone above and beyond, not only securing the coveted golden apples but also procuring these additional items that could fetch an exorbitant price or be used in crafting powerful enchantments. He set the vials back down gently into the satchel, his gaze shifting back to her.

“You certainly know how to sweeten a pot. Quite the haul for a simple mercenary.”

He said, a smirk playing on his lips. She just shrugged, the exhaustion was evident in her posture.

“I wanted to make sure you had no doubts about my conviction. I meant what I said. I want to serve you, to be of worth. I'll be your tool, your weapon, whatever you need. Give this life of mine a purpose, a real one, even if it's just in your shadow.”

He studied her for a moment, considering her words. The determination in her voice, and the lengths she had gone to, all pointed to someone who had transformed from nothing into a formidable force. She was a weapon with no aim. But in the right hands...His hands... His mind raced, calculating the potential uses for someone with her skills and just what other things she could do for him.

“You know, few could have managed what you did.”

“That being?”

“Meeting my expectations.”

She exhaled deeply, the weight of his words lifting some of the exhaustion from her shoulders. There was a sense of satisfaction in her eyes, though she maintained her composure. His gaze hardened slightly, though a hint of a smile remained on his lips.

“Don't relax just yet. This was just the first step and you met my bare minimum. You wanted to serve me, to prove your worth? Fine. You have your opportunity. And you best maintain it. I don't tolerate weakness. So you better not hinder me, my company, or my goals. Do I make myself clear?”

Lynsie nods, her resolve firm.

“I understand. I won't let you down.”

Jack moves from his desk, towering over her, his presence imposing yet no longer as intimidating as it once was. He moved closer, examining her with an intensity that made her heart race, though she refused to show any sign of weakness.

“You've shown me you can handle yourself in the field. Now I want to see how you fare within my organization. Working for me means total loyalty and commitment. There are no half-measures, no hesitation. You'll be stepping into a world where betrayal, incompetence, and failure are not tolerated. If you serve me, you serve me fully, with everything you have. You'll be dealing with matters both internal and external. Prove that you can be trusted, that you can execute my orders without question.”

Lynsie met his gaze steadily, the fire in her eyes burning brighter as she held a hand over her heart.

“I swear to you, Jack. That this life of mine is now yours. Nothing else in this world matters to me. Your goals are my goals. Your happiness is my own. Money has no meaning. The only reward I aim for is satisfying your needs. Give me any task and it will be done without question. No matter what, I...”

“Okay! Geez. I get it. Stop being so dramatic. You sound both ridiculous and desperate.”

“...It was the satisfy needs thing, right?”

“That part was just weird.”

She slaps herself.

“Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!”

He puts an end to that with a hand on her head.

“None of that. You got beaten enough as is, no need to start doing it to yourself.”

“Sorry.”

He leans down so he's at her eye level, his voice steady and commanding.

“You are undoubtedly...still so damn weird.”

Despite how it sounds, this makes her smile. He takes his hand off her and flicks her forehead, knocking her down.

“Come now. Don't just clutter my floor.”

She looks at him confused but gets up, following him as he leaves his office. Jack's towering figure moves with a confident stride, his demeanor shifting back into the commanding presence of a leader. As they walk, Lynsie can't help but notice the curious glances from the workers and guards they pass. Some look at her with curiosity, others with suspicion, but none dare to speak.

“Um...W-Where are we going?”

He doesn't bother with visibly acknowledging her.

“You look like hell. I can't have someone representing me who looks like they spent a month being Sisyphus's boulder.”

Fair enough. She couldn't argue that she probably brought the health code down in her current state. There wasn't a point during her mission that she stopped for long, barely sleeping or eating to ensure not to waste a single valuable second. But health be damned, she had a deadline and stuck to it as her training had drilled such conviction into her.

He leads her through a series of hallways and stairs, the sounds of the factory growing distant as they enter a quieter wing of the building. Eventually, they arrive at a set of double doors. Jack pushes them open and her eyes widen at the shift in environmental tone. The atmosphere here is more refined, with plush carpets and ornate fixtures that speak of Jack's success and wealth. She wasn't expecting such posh living quarters in a pie factory of all places. After a short stroll down a small hall, Jack opens a door to reveal a luxurious suite, complete with a large bed and a joint lavish bathroom.

“What do you think? Pretty nice, right?”

“If I didn't know better, I'd think a noble stayed here.”

“Please. Royalty wishes it had it this good.”

“And this room is...?”

A smug laugh leaves him.

“Oh, this room? Don't tell me you think this is yours. Ha! Heavens no. This is my room. It's where I rest my weary head when I don't bother going home.”

She rolls her eyes. Ah, yes, a most hilarious jape. Showing off extravagances to the poor person. Rich people's humor is wild.

“No. Your room is over there.”

That took her by surprise. They move a few doors down and he opens the door, showing a more simple room compared to his. She steps in and looks around the room, momentarily taken aback by the gesture. It's a stark contrast to the rough conditions she's been used to for most of her life. She turns to him, her expression a mix of gratitude and bewilderment.

“This is mine?”

He waves her off with a dismissive hand.

“Don't read too much into it. I can't have you back on the streets looking like a beggar while you're here. First impressions matter, and you're now representing me in some capacity. So go get cleaned up. There's some basic linen in the dresser. I'll leave some food in here in a bit. You need some meat on your bones before you drop dead and are of no use to me.”

With that, he turns to leave, but pauses at the door, glancing back at her.

“And don't mistake this for kindness. It's purely practical. You're here to work for me, and I expect you to earn your keep.”

She nods, understanding the gravity of his words.

“I won't disappoint you, Jack.”

He gives a curt nod and smirks.

“Good girl. See to it that you don't.”

He leaves on that note, closing the doors behind him. She stands in the middle of the room, taking a deep breath as she momentarily forgets to breathe. The weight of her new position and the responsibilities that come with it are heavy, but so is her sense of purpose. For the first time in years, she feels like she's moving towards something meaningful.

The room was a haven, a sanctuary from the harsh world outside. She wasted no time, heading straight to the bathroom. She peeled off her tattered clothes, wincing as she saw the bruises and cuts marring her skin. The hot water from the shower was a welcome balm, washing away the grime and tension of her arduous journey. She scrubbed herself clean, letting the water soothe her aching muscles and refresh her spirit.

Once clean, she stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in a soft towel. She rummages through the dresser and finds a simple nightgown, which gets her thinking. He did all this. Why did he do this? This room, it's new or at least fixed up from something else. It still has the scent of fresh mortar. So did he anticipate her success? He really made a room...for her. Her appreciation for him only grew. Another smell hits her nose. There was a small table with a tray of food and a note in Jack's unmistakable handwriting: "Eat. Rest. Report to me at dawn." She smiled faintly at the terse yet considerate gesture.

“I did it, Miss Doris. I found my path.”

She takes her time with the food, the first real meal she'd had in days, savoring every bite. She can't help but think about everything. The young Jack Horner she knew had grown into a powerful and ruthless man, one who had built an empire from nothing. And she? She had transformed from a weak, broken girl into a capable and determined woman. Their reunion was unexpected, but perhaps it was fate. Now, standing at the precipice of a new chapter in her life, she resolves to give it her all. No matter what challenges lie ahead, she will face them head-on. For Jack, for herself, and for the promise of a future she never thought possible.

_______________________________

Months passed, and Lynsie quickly proved her worth within Jack's organization. Her intelligence, skill, and unwavering loyalty set her apart, earning her a reputation among the staff and within the underground network that Jack controlled. She executed missions with precision, handled delicate negotiations, and ensured that Jack's interests were always protected. Her transition from a mere tool to a trusted confidante was gradual but undeniable, soon being known around the facility as Little Lynn.

She had made herself to be not just a capable asset but an invaluable one. She had a knack for identifying weaknesses in others and exploiting them in shrewd ways, a skill Jack found particularly useful. Her skills in espionage, negotiation, and strategic planning had already yielded significant results. Jack found himself relying on her more than he initially expected.

She had settled into her role, taking on increasingly important tasks and earning the respect of the staff, albeit begrudgingly in some cases. She was working directly under Jack as his right hand, helping manage his collection, procure rare items, and deal with...problems as they arise. The quickness of her placement in a high position made most skeptical of her intentions, a good many believed her to be using Jack. Such thoughts would be buried in time. Her transformation was noticeable, not just in her physical appearance, which had become more full and polished, but in the way she carried herself. She was confident, efficient, and unflinching in her readiness to act in his service.

Jack observed her growth with a mix of admiration and caution. He valued her contributions but remained wary, knowing all too well the dangers of trust in his line of work. Still, Lynsie's unwavering dedication and the way she seamlessly integrated into his world were without fault. The child who once was so broken had become an indispensable part of his empire.

One evening, Jack sat in his trophy room reviewing research reports. His underworld connections have been fruitful at first when it came to gathering information on his goal, but now the well is running dry. For him, collecting magic is just a small drop in the bucket. Priceless artifacts and memorabilia of legend are little more than a means to a greater end. A testament to his superiority over that which once belittled him. No. These objects are nothing compared to having actual magic at his control and not by use of conduits. Which is why he aims to give himself such power. But not just any magic talent will do. He wants ALL of it. Not just a bit. Not half. ALL of it. He would be special. Command the power that was denied and be master over all. It's his wish. The thing that will finally make him happy. All that's stopping him from making his wish come true is a single map. If only he had a clue to work with.

A soft knock broke his thoughts.

“Enter.”

Lynsie entered quietly, approaching him with a calm demeanor, her eyes sharp and attentive. Over the months, she had become accustomed to the subtle nuances of his moods, reading the unspoken language of his body and expressions. Tonight, there was a tension in the air, a sense of urgency that made her pulse quicken.

“Master Jack...”

She began, her voice low and steady. Her professionalism is now more or less her default state, something he preferred along with the title she used. The causal familiarity was a bit too awkward for his taste. This seemed to be something she picked up on and kept it to a minimum and mostly when in private.

“The latest shipment arrived. I've had the items cataloged and stored. But there's something else—rumors about a relic that might interest you. My sources suggest it to be Poseidon's Trident.”

Jack's eyes flickered with interest, his fingers drumming lightly on the desk. Poseidon, god of the sea, storms, earthquakes, and horses. Frankly an oddball god when Jack gave it thought. But the Trident was a coveted prize among collectors and power-seekers alike. Total command of water, storms, and be able to rock the very earth? He'd be a fool to let that slip away from him.

“Go on.”

He prompted, leaning back in his chair.

“It seems that it has found its way into the hands of some pirates. Now, I don't know about you, but a bunch of salty scalawags don't need such a powerful instrument. I'm thinking we should kindly relieve them of the trident posthaste. After all, said item should really be in your rightful hands.”

His expression darkened, a calculating gleam in his eyes as a smirk curls his lips. Such words do cater to him so well.

“And how do you propose we abscond with such a wanted prize?”

She approached, a contemplative look on her face and her hands held behind her back.

“Hmmm...Pirates are kind of all over the place. Gung-ho, superstitious, protective, and paranoid, but also reckless and foolhardy. If word has gotten out to this point, then they will be expecting underhanded tactics. We more than likely won't the only ones aiming to steal it. So...I suggest a well-coordinated strike.”

His brow cocks and she continues.

“Ports aren't too large. A team can cover the area and lock off escape routes, effectively making any potential runners that may or may not have nabbed it go down selected paths that lead to ambushes. It's a funneling tactic to force your target into a better position of attack. A main unit can go in and attempt to score without the group, but can always fall back on the group for aid if needed.”

He let such an idea play out in his head as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk as he studied her.

“And you can arrange such a thing?”

She smiled slyly.

“I can start the groundwork at your approval. We have contacts who owe us favors and can be persuaded to help. The promise of coin goes a long way. Overall...It will take some coordination, but it's doable.”

His eyes glinted with approval. She had proven herself capable time and time again, and this plan was another example of her resourcefulness. He couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation.

“Good. You may proceed.”

He said, his voice firm.

“Prepare a team and make sure everything is airtight. No loose ends.”

She nodded.

“Understood. I'll make the arrangements and keep you informed.”

As she turned to leave he called her back, his tone softening slightly.

“Lynsie.”

She paused, turning back to face him. He hesitated for a moment, his expression unreadable.

“Don't disappoint me."

A flicker of fright crossed her eyes, and she gave him a small hardened stare.

“I won't.”

With that, she left the room, closing the door behind her. He sat back in his chair, lost in thought. He honestly didn't care if he got the trident or not. At least right now. It would be his, after all, patience is a virtue he learned to use when it came to important matters. This wasn't important. This was just a fun little test. Pushing her buttons for results. This was one with a small meaning though. A box in his desk drawer is her reward. One she has to earn. Her loyalty and competence were proving invaluable, so a little token of menial gratitude was due. Especially since...never mind. He shoved such thoughts away. As he gazed at the artifacts in his trophy room, anticipation welled within him. The future held untold power and possibilities, and he would stop at nothing to claim every last bit of it for himself. For now, he would focus on the task at hand and ensure everything went according to plan. After all, the game was only just beginning, and he intended to win.

_______________________________

It's a dark and quiet night. The moon hangs low, shining brightly over the still waters of a quaint port town. Docked like a proud beacon above all else, a pirate ship. Simple yet fair enough to see from a distance. Such calm serenity is far from true, not when chaos erupts on the deck of the ship.

It had all started when Puss in Boots had snuck aboard as the crew of cutthroats haphazardly slept on the deck. Like the stealthy thief he is, Puss pounced around and avoided waking the sleeping crew. He searched around, looking for any sign of the prize he sought. Unfortunately, the seaside hilltop village of Del Mar had been hit with a rather harsh drought, causing thirst, famine, and much hardship for the people. Puss, being a charitable Gato and hero, sought the trident to bring rain and save the town from further grief.

His search doesn't take long. Sleeping at a desk is the captain and in his grip is the trident, the blue-green gem in the core shimmered off the gold metal. Carefully, he shimmied the object from the man's grasp. Confidant in his skill, Puss lets his guard down, unaware that the captain had woken and spied the pilfering pussycat. The captain comes up from behind and snatches the weapon, attempting to stab Puss. The tabby is fleet of foot, avoiding the attempted impalement, and delivers a series of rapid kicks to the man's face. This knocks the man out but the trident is sent flying. Puss grabs it yet the momentum has it going overboard...straight for the jaws of a hungry shark.

The shark, however, goes hungry. Puss and Trident are pulled back from the brink by Papa Bear, who is of course with his family, Mama, Baby, and Goldilocks. The crime family separates the cat from the weapon and nearly rouses a pirate from their sleep when the trident is fumbled. Luckily, they stay asleep. Unluckily, this is when another enters the picture and stirs things up for the worse, at least for them. Kitty Softpaws, high up on the mast, busts out a guitar and strums loudly which wakes the ship's crew.

An all-out brawl broke out between the ship's crew, Puss in Boots, Goldilocks & the Three Bears, and Kitty Softpaws. The trident is tossed around like a hot potato as one and all fight for it. Weapons clash and claws slash. Then within moments of it starting, it seems over. Kitty gets her paws on the trident and takes off. Goldi and the bears abandon ship after her, leaving Puss to the wrath of a pissed-off band of marauding pirates...who proceed to stuff him into a canon intending to fire. But such action doesn't happen though. Not when Kitty saves him by using the Trident to summon a massive wave that washes the crew off the ship.

With threats mostly taken out and whatever pleasantries done between old familiar faces, the thieves scatter into the night, running through streets to flee the little town before daybreak. Kitty, with the trident in paw, finds most paths oddly crowded since she entered. This isn't too much of a bother, a cat is more than capable of leaping around like the world is a playground. This...was a poor move.

A faint low whistle cuts the still air. A single arrow splits into four. She can't react in time. In a flash, she's pinned to a wall by a thin but strong net. A few on horseback make themselves known but one emerges from the shadows further back, bow in hand. Kitty scrambles, unable to claw the net. Curse her former owners for this! The farthest figure comes moving in fast, her visage becoming clear in the moonlight, upon recognition Kitty's thrashing stops and her calm returns.

“I thought we were on the same team, Little Lynn.”

The cat's sassy tone falls on deaf ears yet the woman does slow down.

“Forgiveness, Miss Softpaws. I aimed to follow the glow of the trident. You just so happen to have the target.”

Lynsie reaches her and pulls the item from the netting, slinging it to her back under the bow.

“Fine work, Miss Softpaws. Master Jack will be pleased.”

She takes a dagger out and cuts the netting, freeing the captured cat.

“So...What of the others I had sent?”

Kitty scoffs.

“You might want to check the water. Those fools got chummy with the pirates and passed out after all the fun they had. If you ask me, they needed a good whooping.”

Lynsie rumbles lowly, displeased by this news. The feline stretches and jumps in surprise when a bag of gold is dropped by her.

“Payment, in full, as promised. I hope we can continue to do business with you in the future, Miss Softpaws.”

Kitty collects the bag with a smirk.

“Always a pleasure.”

She bounds away but pauses to look back.

“Tell Jack I'm available if ever he needs some real help!”

She leaps away before she can notice the murderous glare sent her way. Lynsie reaches back and clutches the trident, her grip turning her knuckles bone white.

“You should learn to keep your mouth shut. It can get you into some faulty situations.”

The gem on the trident glows, causing the ground to quake. A crack rips at her feet and travels like a shark zoning in on unfortunate prey. The men on horseback come in, one holding the reins of another steed.

“Are things okay, Miss Lynn?”

She just looks off silently, as if expectantly waiting for something to happen. Suddenly a yowl erupts, and a faint black speck flings up into the moon's glow. A smirk comes to her and she accepts the reins.

“Yes. All is fine.”

She mounts the horse and takes the lead, signaling to the rest of the units around to follow.

“What of the others?”

“They can walk. I do not tolerate such insolence. If they bother returning they shall learn this lesson personally.”

“Isn't that a bit harsh?”

The night air feels colder all of a sudden.

“Are you questioning how I run things? Because, by all means, do tell. I'd love to hear your thoughts.”

The man shrinks more and more into his saddle at her snarling.

“N-No, Miss Lynn. My mistake.”

She sneers and snaps the reins, urging the animal to take off like a shot. She intends to return with haste, racing the moon as it sinks and the sun rises.

Mission complete.

Status...Success.

...

The journey back was uneventful, the silence filled only with the soft thud of hooves against the dirt road. The moonlight bathed the landscape in a silvery glow, creating an almost serene atmosphere. As dawn approached, the returning team rode through the gates of the pie factory, their success evident in their confident demeanor and the secured trident. The night's events had gone according to plan, with minimal complications and maximum efficiency. Lynsie dismounted and handed the reins to a stable hand before making her way inside to Jack's office, the artifact held tightly in her grip.

Jack watched the dawn break from his office window, the first light illuminating the meticulously organized space. Pulling all-nighters isn't uncommon for him but it was less often than before since he had help. Help that should be returning any time now. As the seconds ticked by, he allowed himself a rare moment of contemplation, reflecting on the journey that had brought him here and the path that lay ahead.

The sound of a light knock on the heavy door sounds, waiting for the command to enter before it creaks open.

Lynsie stepped in as he leaned back in his chair. She carried the trident with both hands and then kneels, presenting it to him with a slight bow of her head. Jack's eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he rose from his chair, walking over to inspect the relic. He took the trident from her, feeling its weight and examining the craftsmanship. It was a magnificent piece, pulsating with power, its legendary aura almost palpable. He nodded appreciatively, his eyes flickering back to Lynsie.

“Impressive work.”

He murmured, his eyes never leaving the trident.

“No complications, I assume?”

“None, Master Jack.”

“Well done.”

He said, his voice carrying a rare note of genuine praise. She couldn't hide the small smile that tugged at her lips.

“I'm glad I continue to meet your expectations.”

Jack nodded, a faint smirk curling his lips. He placed the trident on his desk. Turning back to Lynsie, he crossed his arms, studying her. There was a newfound confidence in her stance, a subtle but noticeable shift in how she carried herself mere months ago.

He walked back around to his desk, reached into a drawer, and pulled out a small intricately carved box. Placing it on the desk, he slid it towards her, his expression unreadable as he leaned forward.

“Open it.”

He instructed. With confusion and caution, she took the box. She opened it to reveal a finely crafted silver choker band, lined with five large amethysts. It was simple yet elegant, and it puzzled her greatly.

“What do you think.”

“It's lovely.”

“It's yours.”

She nearly drops the box in shock.

“W-What?”

He merely turns his back and faces the window, being as nonchalantly detached as one would expect.

“Consider it a token of my, uh, acknowledgment. An incentive to continue serving me or whatever.”

She looks at him, then the box, then back to him, and then the box again before putting it down on his desk. The sound is enough to get him to look back and now he's the puzzled one.

“What are you doing?”

“I can't accept this.”

His eyebrows furrowed in surprise and irritation. He turned fully to face her, his gaze hardening as he tried to read her expression. The rejection of a gift, especially one given in a gesture of acknowledgment, was unexpected. He was accustomed to people clamoring for his approval, not turning it down.

“And why not?”

He demanded, his tone sharp.

“You know I don't GIVE things away, right? I TAKE what I want and make sure others don't have it if I can't.”

She stood her ground, her eyes meeting his with a stubborn intensity.

“This feels, how do I put it...Awkward.”

She said guardedly, choosing her words carefully.

“I serve you because that is my want, not to collect rewards. Heck, I have to quarrel with you about being paid as is. My loyalty isn't something that can be bought with gifts. Because it's something I have already given to you freely.”

Jack studied her for a long moment, weighing her words. Her sincerity was clear, and it struck a chord with him, though he wouldn't admit it.

“Fine. Then let me rephrase myself.”

He walked over to her, picked up the box, and held it out to her again, his eyes locking onto hers.

“This is yours.”

He said, his voice lower but no less firm.

“You've earned it. I am...gifting...this to you.”

His face bunched up with straining effort to utter such words.

“As a symbol of your position and your value to me.”

His face began to flush with vibrant red tones, not due to fluster, but from a lack of air as concentrating on putting on this act this hard took all his focus and breathing was something he had completely forgotten about doing.

“Wear it with pride, as a reminder of what you've achieved and what you're capable of. That I...”

“For the love of all that is god, man, stop!”

A heavy labored gasp comes from him as he gulps air for his life, being somewhat decent took more effort than he was used to.

“I...am never...doing that...again...”

“Please don't. While I appreciate what you were trying to do. That was just...so very wrong.”

“Noted...”

She took in this moment and watched as he regained his composure. He was a remorseless and greedy bugger, yet for a brief moment, the harsh calculating exterior he always presented seemed to soften, revealing a glimpse of something more human. She wasn't quite sure how to feel about that, so best to pretend like it didn't happen and move on to something far less awkward. She slowly reached out and took the box from him, her fingers brushing against his large palms.

“Thank you, Jack.”

She said quietly, her voice filled with genuine gratitude.

“I am humbled by this most gracious of honors.”

Now back to normal, he nodded, satisfied with her acceptance of this 'gift'. Ugh, that word made him feel dirty. The hell was he thinking? Nope. Never doing this kind of thing. Doesn't matter if it's her birthday. This was way to damn unpleasant for him. Best forget this happened and get back on track.

“Good. Now, go get some rest. I want you back to duty in the afternoon. We mustn't disrupt our natural schedule.”

“Then you too should sleep. I can tell you haven't.”

Any of that humanity is tossed out the window as he glares at her.

“Just do as I say. I'll rest when I'm ready.”

Much better. All is right with her world as he is being himself again.

“As you wish.”

“Good girl.”

She nodded and left the office, clutching the box to her chest, the door closing quietly behind her. He sat back in his chair, his gaze lingering on the trident. For the first time in a long while, he felt a sense of satisfaction not just from acquiring a powerful artifact but from the loyalty and competence of someone. It was risky, what he was doing, letting someone close and being vulnerable. Just this once. See how it goes. He'll invest in this risk and hope it pays off in his favor.

As the morning sun continued to rise, Jack allowed himself a brief moment of contentment. He had built an empire, surrounded himself with capable individuals, and was on the cusp of achieving the ultimate power he craved. But there was still much to be done, many more artifacts to acquire, and rivals to overcome. The game was far from over, and Jack Horner intended to play it to the very end, ensuring his victory in the most spectacular way possible. For now, he would enjoy this small triumph and plan his next move, confident that with Lynsie and his other loyal followers by his side, nothing could stand in his way. The future was his for the taking, and he would stop at nothing to claim it all.

She returned to her room, a mixture of emotions swirling within her. Placing the box on her nightstand, she sat on her bed and stared at it, the weight of her journey and the responsibilities she had taken on pressing down on her. But not in a bad way. This was validation. This was proof. This was meaningful.

“You know I don't GIVE things away, right?”

A smirk creeps on her lips.

“I TAKE what I want and make sure others don't have it if I can't.”

Yet he gave her so much. Not just the choker. But this room. The her job. The clothes on her back. A sense of belonging. And the very spark that started her down a road to a different fate than life had.

“You vex me, Jack. You really do.”

After a moment, she opened the box again and took out the choker. She ran her fingers over the smooth silver and the amethysts, feeling their coolness against her skin. With a determined breath, she fastened it around her neck. The feel of it was both comforting and empowering, a tangible reminder of her progress and her place in Jack's world.

The morning light streamed through the window, casting a soft glow over the room. Lynsie lays back on her bed, feeling the exhaustion of the night's mission catching up with her. She closed her eyes, a sense of purpose and resolve settling over her. She had found her path, and she was determined to walk it with unwavering loyalty and strength. Serving at the side of the one she felt worthy by.

~~~~~~

[I love writing for this pair. The dynamic is fun and the lore I've crafted I try to keep in check with the in-universe canon. I hope to make more when inspiration hits. There's always room for more even if it's one-shots.]

[readsalot1]

-Chronicles of Prydain; it gets a bit darker as the series goes on, but I'm 99.9% sure it has no swearing--they end up talking about Annuvin a bunch, but (a) it's not actually hell, and (b) all the place names are in pseudo/actual Welsh, so he probably won't know if it pops up anyway, lol

-Another series by Lloyd Alexander is the Westmark Trilogy; I read it at around 14? Really good, but it has more mature themes than Prydain. There's probably swearing in at least book 2 (The Kestrel is quite possibly the most blatantly gory YA book that I've ever read--I pulled an all-nighter so I wouldn't dream about it, haha) but book 1 (Westmark) will probably be okay? Although thinking about it, the series opens with "Theo was, by occupation, a devil. A printer's devil..." as in an apprentice to the trade. It put my little sister off the series until I told her I'd read it out loud and substitute "devil" with "apprentice" (she's so cute, I love her)

-if he likes Star Wars, I 100% suggest the OG Thrawn Trilogy (the one from the 90s; I haven't read the new one yet), and maybe Young Jedi Knights (pretty sure it's YA? if he's more willing to jump into grimdark, New Jedi Order is AMAZING)

-I totally forgot Earthsea!!!! So good! Ursula Le Guin was an amazing writer. It's probably targeting late YA/mid- to late teens, now that I'm thinking about it. I remember having a really obsessive phase in 7th grade or so? and the creepier stuff went over my head. You might want to read them first to decide if he'd like them--there's some stuff that looking back was actually really dark? But it's so well written, and the things that were bad were very obviously painted as Things Not to Do, so it gets a place on the list

-Redwall is really good, actually--if he changes his mind he should go for it

Trusted mutuals and friends, I put a question to you: my youngest brother (thirteen years old) is desperately looking for some books to read—do y’all have any recs? A few criteria: a few of his favorite series recently have been Keeper of the Lost Cities, The Unwanteds, and The Green Ember. He’s also pretty sensitive to swearing, but not so much to violence.

[acourtofladydeath]

🎵💚 Once bitten and twice shy, I keep my distance but you still catch my eye. Tell me baby, do you recognize me? ❤️🎵

I certainly hope not because I’m going out of my way to ensure that you don’t

Hi it’s me again (santa)

I hope your week is going well!! I’ve been thinking about your present and I was curious if you would prefer something canon-compliant/canon-divergent and/or pre-canon?

Also, I have plans to incorporate Nesta and I was wondering if there were any other characters or ships that would be fun for you to read if I included them? No promises to get them all, but I’ll do my best!

Final fic-related question: do you have any hard limits? Anything that you actively do not want to read or read about? I want to ensure that your present is as enjoyable as possible ❤️

Now because you seem very cool and I’d like to get to know you, I’m going to quiz you a little more 😂

What is your favorite color? (mine is either cornflower blue or mossy green)

What’s your go-to comfort film? (a few of mine are P&P (2005,) Under the Tuscan Sun, and The Holiday.)

Most Ardently Yours,

Santa

HI SANTA!! Thank you for that, by the way, I will now have that song stuck in my head through the end of the year at a minimum.

I like to stay close to canon compliant, but it could be pre, during, or post! Honestly as long as they're together and happy.

I did want to add that I will enjoy smut, but I truly want these boyos to be in L.O.V.E. = LOVE. I'm such a sucker for a good story behind any smutty bits that may be included. Smut not required, story preferred. (BUT smut not discouraged AT ALL, I just prefer it to be a part of the bigger story. Set the stage, ya know?)

So excited to hear about Nesta!!! If and only if it works with your story I'd love to see the bat boys in there for 2 reasons:

Nessian moments, my other favorite ship.

The bat boys reactions to Azris is one of my fave parts of the ship.

Also would never say no to seeing Lucien, especially for more brotherly love vibes. But I don't have super strong opinions on additional characters!

I had to think about hard limits for a while because I don't have many, if you've delved into my AO3 bookmarks at all you'll see QUITE A RANGE LEMME TELL YOU. I'm typically not a fan of anything that straight up bashes characters, I truly see them all with faults, strengths, and weaknesses. As long as things/opinions are explained within a fic, I'm good with most of it. There are no individual characters I avoid or dislike. I'm not a fan of elriel (I'm mentioning this because it's one of the only things I typically scroll past but not sure it's at all applicable here?) If you're specifically asking about kink ranges, lemme know cuz they're WIDE AND VARIED. If there's anal there must be lubrication of some kind, that's a hard line for me.

As for my favorite color, I've got a lot of teal things, but I'm starting to tend more towards deeper, darker blue-greens and lots of forest greens.

Comfort movie? Oh gods...this question...I'm not sure that I have one. I literally had to go look at my streaming services because I haven't watched many movies recently. I also tend to rewatch TV shows more than movies d/t time constraints. I'm also such a mood watcher/reader/listener that this answer literally changes hourly. I'm a huge fan of Disney's Peter Pan (see: my Azris Peter Pan AU), Beauty and the Beast (OG animation), and Hercules. I don't think I could watch The Prince of Egypt enough in one lifetime. Anastasia is another favorite. I enjoy The Proposal a lot too. White Christmas is my favorite Christmas movie. I'm a huge sucker for movies like "Rush" that are retellings of actual events (and a big F1 fan).

Pride and Prejudice and The Holiday are both great movies that I really enjoy, but haven't watched in a while!!

I'm looking forward to see what you cook up with and getting to know you more as well!!

Sincerely,

A chronic over explainer who could not come up with simple answers and I hope that's okay. Please feel free to ask for clarification on anything!

[nireidi]

Among the Stars and Bones- mostly about space archeology, but at least 2 characters confirmed queer

Monstrous Agonies- a monster advice column, lots of confirmed queer characters,

wolf 359- a classic, has at least 1 confirmed queer character but is mostly about an isolated space station, darker than eos10 but it’s one of the og fiction podcasts

The strange case of the starship iris- gay space pirates

Midnight burger- a time travelling dimension hoping diner with scifi intrigue, at least 1 confirmed queer character

Astonishing Tales of the Highly Improbable- a radio show that seems to just be telling stories, but they all connect to a bigger universe, both in the podcast and literally, as the creator has several musical albums that continue the story told in the podcast. Gets real meta everyone is gay or trans usually both.

The Sheridan Tapes- basically the Magnus Archived in America, right down to the asexual protagonist- but giving Jon sims a gun certainly changes the outcomes quite a bit.

I desperately need more (queer) fictional audio dramas/podcasts

The exploration list Spotify overwhelmes me so much

[sepublic]

Basilisks and Coven Binding Timeline...

In discussing the timeline of when coven bindings were made, I think we should look at the Basilisks;

At this point, we can all agree that Belos cloned them in his development of the coven sigils and/or Day of Unity spell, being interested in the Basilisk ability to drain bile magic. While it’s possible he only began research for developing the DOU ritual and had already figured out the coven bindings, the timeline of coven bindings not being a thing thirty years ago leads me to believe the Basilisks coincided with the coven bindings.

Ergo, we can guess Belos devised the coven bindings after he cloned and studied the first basilisk, at the very least; This may very well be our Greater Basilisk, which of course has implications for her role in everything... Likewise, we don’t know how old Vee is, but given the parallels to Luz, I’d guess she’s around fourteen years old.

It’s possible Belos figured out the DOU ritual alongside the coven bindings, that they both had to be figured out at once, in order to do one. Which of course could suggest that the coven bindings were only finalized a few years ago at most, since Vee doesn’t look much younger between the experiments, and when she first escaped. There’s also the possibility that Belos cloned additional basilisks after Vee, Three, and Four escaped; He tried finding them at first to regain lost assets and eventually gave up, and/or wanted to hide evidence of his experiments.

We also don’t know how old the Greater Basilisk is, even if she seems to be the eldest; Probably One or Two. She might’ve grown a few years before Belos studied enough to figure out the bindings, so GB might’ve been alive during the Raeda flashback of last week’s episode. But overall, I think the timeline of the Basilisks are worth taking into consideration as to when Belos developed the coven bindings and began to apply them. Likewise, we know Wrath was an adult and warden when Vee was being experimented upon...

Alador’s Bonesborough Brawl photo seems to insinuate that Wrath is around the age of Ed, Lilith, Raine, etc., the parental generation; He himself IS a parent no less! But then again it’s hard to discern his species’ age... He might’ve been quite a bit older than the others in this photo. But overall, I think it’s likely that Wrath was around everyone else’s age as a young adult. We don’t know when he became the Warden, or how old he was when Vee was experimented upon (plus Vee’s age must be taken into consideration, since he’s covered in his mask... But again, it’s worth considering.

TL;DR The coven bindings were likely developed and introduced alongside the cloning and study of the basilisks, so after Eda and Raine met, within thirty years ago; Eda says Lilith cursed her around that time, and we know the curse happens seven months after Raine and Eda meet. Vee being cloned about fourteen years ago could suggest she’s older than the coven bindings, or at least the DOU spell was developed after the bindings were introduced.

All in all, this adds some horrifying new context to the coven bindings if they really were that recent; As well as Darius’ reaction and disapproval, as someone who grew up without them being a thing for even an OG Coven Head like Terra! It casts into a darker light Belos’ sudden mad scramble to bind witches... It’s not just in response to the impending Day of Unity, it’s him making up for lost time now that he finally has the bindings figured out! There must’ve been a massive upsurge in bindings, especially forced ones, which would be quite the violation of bodily autonomy...

The bindings might’ve been a hard sell at first, but Belos just went F it and decided to just go for them, instead of gradually introducing them to the population of the time. And actually...

I JUST remembered this, but Raine also mentions how they discovered witches being forcibly bound after they joined the Bard Coven, after their breakup with Eda! So that’s another point in the timeline to consider; By the time Raine joined the Bard Coven post-breakup, coven bindings were a thing and were being forcibly applied to witches. I wonder if this all coincides with Belos (publically) ceasing petrifications thirty years ago, around the time Eda was cursed...

It’s possible Belos ceased petrification because with the coven bindings, he opted for that as a more practical option; Witches were more useful to him as batteries than statues. But every now and then, Belos discreetly rolls out the petrification ceremony as a means of threatening people... So if coven bindings were developed thirty years ago (or Belos started cloning the basilisks and opted to put executions on indefinite hiatus, since he would develop binding for condemned prisoners in a couple of years anyway), that could suggest that the DOU ritual was still being figured out years later by Vee’s birth and adolescence.

That, or Belos kept cloning and studying the basilisks years after he figured it out, either just to be safe in knowing everything, and/or morbid curiosity. The fucker.

[adobe-outdesign]

What are your thoughts on hisuian arcanine?

I have a lot of thoughts about Hisuian Arcanine, but I'll start off by saying that I like it a lot. In fact, I actually like it better than the original Arcanine (which I already liked), if for no other reason that the prominent lion dog theme is much more visually interesting than just a large regular dog.

There's also some really nice things going on in the design in general. The bright red looks great and really shows off the fire-typing, the way the fur looks like curled smoke is perfect, and even the way the fur on the front paws is drawn seems to be a reference to Arcanine's beta design, (which was just known as "wing", because you know, it had wings on its legs):

Admittedly, I did expect it to gain a few more lion dog features--lip markings, longer fangs, ect--but that's not a big deal, and what we got still looks solid. The artwork has also been improved on, with a much more dynamic pose. Overall, good stuff.

With that said however, there are a few things visually that don’t gel with me, the biggest thing being the colors.

Don't get me wrong; the red looks great against the dark grey and it really helps the design pop. However, the thing about regionals is that there's a careful balancing act between not making it look to similar to the original (Alolan Meowth) and not making it look completely unrelated (Galarian Meowth). Now don't get me wrong: sometimes different colors can help make regionals more visually distinct, and there are some Hisuian designs that I think could actually use a palette change.

However, Hisian Growlithe already has a different palette than regular Growlithe, being more red and white instead of orange and cream. Because H. Arcanine already changes a ton about the design, this palette would've been enough on its own. By making the mane--the part of the design that changed most--dark, it pushes the design a bit too far away from the original line. To show what I mean, here's a quick mockup of it with the red and white palette next to OG Arcanine:

It's still very visually distinct, but now doesn't look quite so disconnected.

And speaking of which, it also looks disconnected from Hisuian Growlithe because of this. Why does the mane suddenly change colors instead of just staying consistent? If you're going to make the mane dark, at least do so across the board (original on left):

Also, if you must keep the grey, at least make it darker, both to match the stripes and to add contrast. Like this (original on left):

The muzzle also feels like it should've been red and the inside of the ears should've been pink like the mouth, but that's not as big of a deal.

Like I said, the grey looks great, and symbolically fits with statues, the rock typing, volcanic ash, ect. But it could've been kept in a different way: just make the white the default and the grey the shiny. Have your cake and eat it too.

Anyway, aside from the colors, the horns look weirdly tacked on. I thought that they would get bigger and more craggy at this stage to reflect the rock-typing, but instead it just... adds two very small ones. Either do something with them or drop them, but this isn't quite working as-is.

Additionally, the eyebrows have a weird shape to them. I think they were referencing lion dogs' eyebrows, but the diamond shape of the forehead creates some unpleasant negative space compared to the original, which had the shape around the eyes reflected by the ear shape. Just make the entire forehead grey.

And finally, considering that lion dogs have curly manes, H. Growlithe has a curly mane, and half of H. Arcanine's mane is curly, it feels like the mane should've had more curls to it instead of mostly being straight "petals". You can have large curls and still retain the layered look and red inside marks, so I don't know why they felt the need to change the style there. Not to mention the same diamond shape shows up again in the front fur in a way that looks very unnatural and doesn't quite flow right.

As a whole, Hisuian Arcanine has a really striking and elegant design with a lot of good thematic elements and thought put into it; it's just the colors that aren't quite working. But even with that said, I'd still consider it a worthy successor to the original.