#and then start really narrowing my searches to specific pieces of info

[definitelynotshouting]

I have no idea how you manage to do extensive research if I was at your place I would do research and then be wrong about everything

OWDNWKDNWKD IM CURIOUS ABOUT WHAT THIS IS IN REFERENCE TO TBH.... but really its just about hunting down the right resources and doing a lot of cross-referencing for me!!! I really enjoy learning new stuff and highly value accuracy so i have a lot of fun fishing for scientific papers and going on research binges for information i can use in a story-- sometimes it takes a minute to sift through the academic language so i can understand what its saying, but usually i can get the gist of what im reading, which helps a lot when i start cross-referencing with more layman-friendly articles :]

#shouting speaks #asks #idk how extensive i'd call my research binges but they usually last abt 2-4 hrs whenever im really invested in smth #i know that au where i started researching different ways to make tattoo ink took a solid THREE DAYS tho that info was hard to find 😭😭😭 #tbh the cross-referencing is v important to me bc there can be conflicting information out there #so i like to cast a really wide net at first and take notes on whats generally represented in all of the papers and articles i peruse #and then start really narrowing my searches to specific pieces of info #and then kinda piece the picture together with a variety of different sources #altho sometimes i have personal experience with stuff so i can just add my own knowledge to the mix skfnwkdjwkdj #random fun fact!!! ive watched cataract and ent surgeries before!!! you'd be surprised at how useful the info from that is #txt

[nobodyfamousposts]

Helluva Deal (Miraculous X Helluva Boss)

Well, since Miraculous crossovers with Helluva Boss/Hazbin Hotel are a thing now, I figured I’d write my own on how I think it would likely go. Since this IS the Helluva Boss universe, expect mentions of death and the afterlife, allusions to violence, innuendos, and general inappropriateness:

“Let me get this straight.”

Blitzo stared down the demon before him.

Said demon simply looked back, unimpressed. The little thing was small with blue skin, dorky-looking round glasses, and uneven horns. It wasn’t even a notable demon. Just a random weaker demon who somehow got the funds to pay for their services.

And normally, Blitzo was hardly one to turn down money—or a job that offered money. But this…

“You want to pay us to kidnap someone from Earth—not murder, which is in our company’s name, but kidnap. Which is decidedly more difficult and less fun.”

“Yep.”

Blitzo steepled his fingers together and held them up to his face. “And you want this person kidnapped—not so you can kill her yourself for whatever issue you may have, but because you want her to make you a jacket.”

“Yep.”

“A plain old jacket you could just get anywhere here in Hell.”

The demon gasped in offense. “It’s not just ANY jacket! It’s an MDC original piece and I want one!”

Blitzo took a breath, getting the feeling he was going to regret this. 

“Why?”

This…made the demon pause and eventually shrug. “Well, I did say I would have died for an MDC jacket. And I’m dead now, so…gimme.”

Well, who was he to argue with that logic?

Although…

“That is going to require quite a bit more effort…” He started, obviously leading…

The demon gave a flat look. “I’m not paying you double. I need the rest to pay her for the jacket.”

“Why would you want to pay for it?” Blitzo demanded. “This is Hell! You’re a demon! Just steal one!”

“It’s a commission! I have to pay for it!”

Blitzo would have spit out his drink if he’d had one.

“What are you even in Hell for, anyway? You won’t kill. You won’t steal. You just want to pay some human for a jacket you could get anywhere. What’s the point of that?” He asked, giving the other demon a strange look because really, what kind of demon WANTED to pay for things?

The demon stared flatly at Blitzo, his tail flicking against the chair in apparent increasing agitation.

"Are you saying that a commission shouldn't be paid for?” The demon asked curiously, sounding a little...too polite. “Because the last guy who tried to skip out on paying for a commission died. Eyes stabbed out and everything. Do you want to risk that kind of thing happening to you?"

…

Blitzo paled.

“Oh.”

The silence lingered to the point of long past uncomfortable as the demon continued to wait for an answer and Blitzo’s not so subtle attempt to desperately press his secret security button under his desk had no effect.

This would turn out to be because of Loona disconnecting the thing due to her hangover. Though in the moment, Blitzo would choose to blame Moxie.

After a good minute of no response from his team, Blitzo started to sweat when the determined artist demon seemed to grow bored and pulled out a pencil.

He jumped to his feet.

“We’ll take the case!”

And immediately fled the room.

_______

Once on Earth, the problem came up rather quickly that they had no idea who MDC was or how to access them. The client only knew the target was a fashion designer in Paris, which narrowed it down to one city at least but still was little help when the city in question was one of the fashion capitals of the world.

Blitzo, naturally, took the lead in trying to work out a means of information gathering.

And by “naturally”, what was really meant was “horribly failing”.

“I’m telling you, the plan is foolproof. We hold someone for ransom until MDC trades herself.” Blitzo said with apparent glee.

“Sir, that would be the exact opposite of subtle and get us the wrong kind of attention!”

Moxie, for his part, was trying to come up with what he would call “sensible plans”. Millie was simply scouting the area while the two argued. Ever faithful Loona stayed behind to try using her own connections…a magazine.

Needless to say, Blitzo was the one carrying the team. Or at least in his not-so-humble opinion.

Blitzo rolled his eyes. “I don’t see you coming up with any plans, Moxie.”

The smaller demon gave his boss a disgruntled glare. “I already told you! We should just go back and ask the client for more information!”

“Hmm…” Blitzo paused, before pulling out his phone. “Hey, Loona. The client still in my office?”

“Yeup.”

Blitzo immediately closed the phone. “Yeah—nope.”

“Sir—”

“He gouged a guy’s eyes out, Moxie! I need my eyes! I’m too pretty to lose them! They frame my face!” Blitzo exclaimed, bringing his hands up to his head in a fit of dramatics. “Is that what you want, Moxie? Do you want me to lose my precious, precious eyes?”

Moxie stared at the man like he was insane. Granted, Moxie had long had doubts about his boss’s sanity, but still...

“Hey, fellas?” Millie called, interrupting the two as she waved them over to the side of the building they had set up a temporary base atop of. “Listen to this!”

Blitzo immediately headed over, with Moxie following along behind looking annoyed. As they got closer, they heard what Millie had called them over about. Blitzo leaned over and peeked into the room in question.

Below them was an open window of the building where apparently a number of teenagers were gathered within for some inexplicable reason. And in this specific room, a group of the teens were gathered around one particular girl with a large forehead and hair that appeared to be made of meat. It was this girl who had their attention.

“—really friends with MDC?” One short blonde asked, looking overly excited like Blitzo did when he got a paycheck.

“Of course!” The meat-girl replied, looking smug. “We go way back! I was even the one who encouraged him to start in fashion and inspired his Heroes line.”

Blitzo looked back up at his team. “I thought MDC was a girl?”

Moxie shrugged. “If no one knows their real identity who's to say if they're a boy or a girl?"

“What else are they saying?” Millie asked, which returned the focus to the room.

More talking from below, using words that none of the demons really understood or cared about.

“—which was why he even made the Fox outfit for me!”

“Wasn’t that design based on Rena Rouge rather than Volpina?” One other girl with blue hair asked from the doorway of the room. She appeared to be rather annoyed for some odd reason.

The meat-girl looked somber. “Well, that was before he had to change it. After all, as bold as he is, not many people would support an akuma line, even if he had kept my idea to donate the funds to charity for the victims.”

The group “oo”-ed over the girl and praised her for her thoughtfulness. The meat-girl preened at the attention. The bluenette rolled her eyes. Some other blond guy looked on in disappointment.

“How amazing!” The little blonde exclaimed, clasping her hands to her cheeks. “I’d love to be able to meet MDC!”

“So would we!”

All eyes fell to the window which Blitzo, Millie, and Moxie used to make their entrance.

Honestly, he thought it was one of his better displays of dramatics. It certainly warranted some applause. Or screams of fear. Maybe one fainting.

“Akuma!”

Honestly, he was rather disappointed by the underwhelming response.

“I know we're demons and all, but I thought this place was French, not Japanese!"

“Nevermind that.” Blitzo replied to his workers before stepping forward to face the students.

Or rather one student in particular.

“Greetings! I am Blitzo. The two behind me are Millie and Moxie.”

The class stared as one of the two glared at them while the other waved cheerfully—or would be considered cheerfully if her teeth weren’t so razor sharp.

“We represent IMP, a for-hire group out of Hell. We take contracts, complete tasks, and make wishes come true!”

The teens looked at the demons in wariness and confusion.

“That sounds nice…” The little blonde in pink said.

“Those wishes generally involve murder.”

“I take it back! That sounds horrible!”

Blitzo grinned. “We are the ‘Immediate Murder Professionals’, dealing with the unfinished business of those poor wretched souls who are seeking some small vindication in their current status in Hell.”

“Then…why are you here?” The bigger male demanded.

Blitzo ignored him in favor of his true target.

“You! Ugly girl!” He shouted, grabbing the meat-girl.

“Hey!” She exclaimed, insulted.

He shook her. “Take us to MDC and we’ll rip out those sausage-links you call hair!”

“…don’t you mean ‘or’?”

He grinned ferally.

“No.”

She shrieked in fear.

“Lila!” Others cried out in horror.

Ah, yes. There was the fear. This, Blitzo was good with. It made him feel better about the previous lackluster response to his entrance.

“Why do you want me?!” The girl—Lila shouted, looking panicked. “I don’t know where MDC is!”

He raised an eyebrow at this. “But you said you were friends.”

She glanced around, taking note of the fact that her cohorts were still in the room. Though he didn’t know why that should matter for her answer.

“We are! But…I don’t know where he lives now! He’s moved since his name got out there and hasn’t given me the address yet!”

A glasses-wearing girl frowned in confusion. “But didn’t you just say that he invited you to his house for fittings?”

“Yeah, you said it was for the latest line that just came out.” Another girl with multi-colored hair added.

“That was months ago. Before he moved.” Lila replied quickly. “So I can’t help you.”

“Sure, you can!” Blitzo replied jovially. “We can just use you as ransom until MDC agrees to hand himself over.”

Moxie approached the two, keeping his gun leveled at the other kids. “We can save some time and see if she can’t call him.”

“Hey, yeah!” Millie agreed, grabbing Lila’s bag off of her and searching for her phone. “If they’re friends, she’s gotta have his contact info!”

“It’s not in there!” Lila replied quickly. “I was worried someone would steal my phone to get his info so I don’t keep his number in my phone!”

Millie frowned, before holding the now open phone up to Lila. “Then just type in the number yourself.”

Lila glanced around the room in growing agitation. “I can’t! I don’t have it memorized!”

“Then where did you write it down?”

“I lost it!”

The demons were looking particularly vexed.

“When and where?”

“It was a while ago. I don’t know where.” Lila replied.

A girl with glasses looked at her in confusion. “But didn’t you say you just called him this morning to congratulate him on the new line? And that he promised you a free outfit as thanks for all your help?”

Lila paled. “I—”

“Then the number should still be in the phone under its call history.” Moxie noted. Millie grinned and looked back to the phone screen to look through the data.

“I deleted it right after!” Lila shouted desperately.

Millie looked up at her in irritation.

Then promptly crushed the phone in her grip.

Lila shrieked, though it would be up for debate as to whether it was in shock at the loss of her phone or in fear that she may soon share that same fate.

Blitzo seemed similarly put out, but ended up shrugging it off as he pulled Lila closer to him. “Then it’s back to Plan A to hold her for ransom. Or torture her to see if she can’t remember the details.”

“No, please!”

“Lila!”

“Let her go!”

Lila grabbed at the arm holding her, panicked but not enough beyond reasoning. She couldn’t afford to reveal she lied now. She could only hope that these monsters would take her somewhere private where she could manipulate them with less witnesses.

Marinette, for her part, was also analyzing the situation.

These were three unknowns. Definitely not akumas. If they were to be believed, they were actual demons. From Hell. Which existed, apparently. And was where Lila would likely find herself in the next hour if she kept this up.

But from Lila’s expression, it seemed she was insistent on staying tight-lipped about her lies. Marinette figured as much due to her history. But she would have thought that Lila would have had some measure of self-preservation. Though perhaps that only applied to the preservation of her lies and manipulations rather than her own well being.

It was clear that Lila wasn’t going to get herself out of this. Not in any way that would spare her and everyone else in the room, at any rate.

As it was, the classmates were about to rally in Lila’s defense. While they had stood their own against akumas in the past,Marinette didn’t want to see how well they would fare against demons. Nor did she want to have to test if the Miraculous Cure would be enough to fix whatever would be left of them if they tried.

Marinette looked to the doorway.

No one was paying any attention to her right now. She could escape. She could go out, find a place to transform, and come back to deal with these…demons.

But by the time she returned, who was to say what could happen. The demons could kill Lila. They could kill all of her friends for being witnesses.

Ladybug may not be able to fix this.

But Marinette…as Marinette, she could.

“I’m MDC.” Marinette admitted.

Everyone froze.

“Come again.”

“MDC.” Marinette enunciated. “It stands for Marinette Dupain-Cheng. My name. I’m MDC. I’m the one you want.”

Alya stared. “Girl?”

Moxie looked at her in consideration. “That would fit with the client’s report of MDC being female.”

Millie, frowned in suspicion. “How do we know she’s really MDC?”

Marinette took a breath and slowly pulled out her tablet. “Well, my signature is in the clothes, so if you’ll let me pull up one of the shots, I can point it out and—”

Blitzo cut her off, grabbing her arm. “Yeah, I think we’ll just take you both and let the client sort it out. Sound good? Good, because we’re leaving.”

“Bye all!” Millie said, waving to the group. “Don’t do anything we wouldn’t do!”

Moxie rolled his eyes. “That’s a pretty short list…”

Blitzo ignored them an opened a portal, dragging both girls after him. Without a glance back, both Millie and Moxie followed him through the portal. Before anyone else could move, the gateway closed behind them.

A long pause followed.

“Not so fast!”

Suddenly, the door was kicked open as Chat Noir burst into the room.

The much less enemy-filled room.

“Um…did I miss the party?”

_______

The room they soon found themselves appeared, for all intents and purposes, completely normal. It looked like an office of the sort they’d find anywhere in Paris. Complete with a secretary’s desk, a few chairs, and a table littered with magazines.

The difference was made quickly apparent, however, through the view out the window. The landscape the deceptively quaint room was mostly a collage of red and black, with a sunless sky above and a myriad of strange buildings. Also of note where the various denizens of…distinctly non-human appearance wandering the streets outside.

“All right, ladies! Welcome to Hell!” Blitzo announced with a flourish, causing the girls to pale.

Lila fell back with a screech, landing on her butt and immediately attempting to scuttle back away. Her path was quickly halted as she bumped into something. Looking up, that “something” was actually a wolf monster, making Lila panic even further.

Loona, for her part, was not having a good morning—ignoring, of course, that it was actually the afternoon. And as if it wasn’t bad enough that her hangover still hadn’t cleared, now some…thing had shoved into her, followed shortly by an ear-piercing shriek that only made her head feel worse.

Seeing the way the wolf demon growled, Lila opened her mouth, possibly to scream even more when Marinette quickly shoved a hand over her mouth with a smile to Loona.

“Oh my! Your hairstyle is quite lovely!” She lied. Blatantly lied to the wolf girl’s face.

“It’s bed-head.”

“I couldn’t even tell. It looks so sleek and shiny!”

“Whatever.” Loona grumbled and stormed off to the break room, slamming the door behind her (and then immediately regretting it due to the noise agitating her headache).

Marinette decided to take the initiative. “So…what do you want with us, anyway?”

“Our client paid us a pretty penny—”

“Basic contract.” Moxie interrupted.

“Pretty. Penny.” Blitzo continued as if he hadn’t heard. “For a chance to meet with MDC.”

Okay, they had mentioned that before.

“Then what?”

“If you are MDC, you can do whatever the client is wanting. If you’re not, you’ll at least make for a decent distraction while we escape and blow up the building.”

The humans in the room blanched at that.

“WHAT?!”

“I know. She was a beautiful building.” Blitzo said mournfully as he actually wiped a tear from his eye. “And I just got my office arranged how I like it, too. But it

Marinette stared.

Lila whimpered.

“I second that ‘what’.” Moxie interrupted. “Nobody at any point discussed blowing up the building!”

“It was on page 3 of the handout I gave you this morning, Moxie.” Blitzo exclaimed, covering his eyes in exasperation. “At least read the mission briefings!”

“Sir, the ‘handout’ was a paper napkin. There was no third page!” Moxie insisted.

Beside him, Millie for her part was looking over the aforementioned napkin for the part that was supposed to mention the circumstances in question…or really any of the plan.

“We’ll discuss it later.” Blitzo said over his shoulder to Moxie as he proceeded to grab both human girls and drag them over to a previously closed door.

“Hey wait—!”

“Hang on!”

Within seconds, Blitzo opened the door and proceeded to shove both girls through before slamming it shut behind them, the last thing they heard being him mentioning where to buy explosives.

_______

So.

Recap.

Hell was real. Demons were a thing. And the two human girls were getting a first hand view of the less than pleasant or holy side of the afterlife.

Marinette was…actually taking it all in stride.

Lila was less so. She was sitting ramrod straight in the chair, keeping a tight grip on her knees and trying very hard not to move as her eyes glanced quickly around the room at the assembled demons.

Marinette actually felt bad for her. And probably should have been panicking herself, all things considered. Maybe she would have been had it not been for her extensive experience as Ladybug.

Sure, it was Hell, but floating gods and people turning into monsters had already broadened her horizons of the possibilities of the universe. Plus despite the name of the company that had kidnapped them both, murder didn’t appear to be on the table. All in all, despite the circumstances, Marinette didn’t feel that scared.

The fact that the “client” in question who hired the group was actually a fan of hers wanting a commission helped quite a bit with that.

As did the flattery.

“OMG! OMG! I can’t believe it! It’s you! Can I get your autograph?! No—wait! I need to focus! Can I get a jacket with your autograph?!”

“Thank you.” Marinette said, somewhat flustered. Honestly, she hadn’t thought she had gained THAT much fame. Especially not enough for someone to want to commission her from the afterlife.

…was that a thing? Could that be a thing?

“What I don’t get is why the other girl had to tag along?” The demon asked, curiously. “Is she your assistant or something?”

Lila brightened, looking ready to speak—likely to try to lie her way out of this. Or mess up what little peace Marinette had managed to create.

“No!” Marinette interrupted quickly, ignoring Lila’s petulant glare. “No, she’s not. There was just a mix up since they didn’t know where I was or who to bring.”

Blitzo rolled his eyes. “Well, how were we supposed to know?!”

“You could have asked me when I contracted you.” Said the demon, somewhat annoyed.

“I have a website, you know.” Said Marinette, very annoyed.

They paused.

“…the fuck’s a website?”

Silence.

Marinette coughed. “In any case, you wanted to commission me?”

“Oh, yes!”

_______

It didn’t take long to make the arrangements. Marinette named her prices and the demon was more than willing to pay her for her services. They made use of Blitzo’s office to negotiate and fine tune some details regarding the arrangement. From determining the materials to writing up the contract to negotiating the costs, it was all pretty professional.

And ultimately involved the humans not being murdered and the building not being blown up, which was always preferable.

It finally came down to determining just how the demon customer wanted the jacket to look, and Marinette started drawing out some sample sketches on spare paper in the office that may or may not have been important documents for Blitzo which she may or may not have particularly cared given the whole “kidnapping and being used as a sacrifice” matter.

The only issue seemed to be that the demon customer wanted the jacket to be made of materials that were only available in Hell. Which made sense, she supposed, since she wasn’t sure how long anything she made on Earth would last in this environment. Millie and Moxie had been sent out to gather the necessary material in question, and what they returned with was a strange sort of leather. It was unique and of a color she had never seen before, and part of her really wanted to get a bit more detail about the make.

…given how pale Lila had already gotten, Marinette kindly decided to refrain from asking questions.

“Well then, let’s go over a few sketches and determine which one you like.”

The demon looked almost giddy at the prospect. The IMP team looked relieved. Except Blitzo, who still seemed to be pouting over their takeover of his office.

Lila was…less enthused. “WHAT?! What are you thinking?! He’s a demon!”

Marinette shrugged. “Well, I do have a non-discrimination clause.”

“That shouldn’t apply to demons!” Lila hissed lowly.

“The demons who have brought us to Hell and are currently our only way of getting back.” Marinette pointed out, dryly.

Lila huffed and went back to her chair.

So, with Blitzo and his team begrudgingly kindly being forced willing to donate their office for her use, Marinette sent to work to try and design a jacket to the client’s taste as quickly as possible.

The sooner she got done, the sooner they could go back to Earth.

…hopefully.

Lila, for her part, was terrified and miserable and just wanting to go back to Earth. Immediately would be preferable. Even without Marinette.

Yeah, thanks Lila.

“Why do I have to stay here? Why can’t I go back home? Or do anything else?”

The client tilted his head. “Are you saying you don’t like art? Because the last person who told me they didn’t like art had their eyes stabbed out. With pencils. Would you want that to happen to you?”

“…can’t I like art and not stay in Hell?”

“No.”

Lila paled and sunk lower in her seat, where she remained quiet for the next couple of hours while Marinette worked.

It was mostly in silence as Marinette drew one sketch after another. Asking occasional questions about preferred length, how many pockets, special embellishments, and which parts of the various jacket styles did he prefer. Eventually, they had come to an agreement about the set look he wanted, the materials needed, and when he wanted it completed by. And from there came the matter of payment…

“Um…I’m not sure what the exchange rate is for Hell currency.” Marinette said, looking at the coins he handed her.

The demon frowned, tilting his head in consideration. “I could always rob a human bank and pay you with that.”

Marinette paled.

“This is fine. Really. I can probably buy some things from Hell with this.” She said with a forced smile.

“There are tons of things you can only find here.” Millie said, brightening. “We could deliver them for you!”

Well, that was a good point.

“That’s true.” Moxie agreed. “You could make other things with the fabrics here. Hats. Shirts.”

He paused, looking over his shoulder at Millie who was busy chatting with the customer regarding the fabric he chose. Seeing she was suitably distracted, he turned to Marinette. “So…how much would it be to make a dress. Just out of curiosity.”

Aww. Even in Hell there was love.

She smiled. “We can certainly discuss it.”

The moment was ruined as Blitzo stepped in and slung an arm around Marinette’s shoulder.

“How about one of those sexy maid outfits for the bedroom? You’re French, right?” He asked before giving Moxie a nudge. “You could stand to have a little more fun in the bedroom.”

“Sir, I’m 14.” Marinette replied dryly.

“And what we do in the bedroom is none of your business!” Moxie rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Didn’t we just have a discussion about this last week?”

Marinette coughed as the two started to argue. “So…um…are we going to return to Earth so I can start working on this?”

Blitzo sighed. “Fine, fine. Killjoys.”

Lila heaved a sigh of relief. “Oh thank God.”

_______

With an agreement forged between Marinette and IMP to have the customer’s order completed and delivered within two week’s time, Marinette and Lila were safely deposited back in their classroom no worse for wear.

…well, physically. Mentally, there were probably going to be a few scars.

Several of their classmates had apparently remained since the earlier incident. Perhaps it was out of worry? Or maybe classes had resumed after their disappearance—akuma attacks and strange circumstances had become rather common, after all.

Still, it was Alya’s cry of surprise and then being pulled into a hug that assured Marinette she was, in fact, back home.

“You’re back!” Alya exclaimed, relieved. “We were so worried!”

It wasn’t every day your best friend and classmate was dragged to Hell, after all.

“—and I’d been trying to reach out to Ladybug and Chat Noir, but only Chat showed up and Ladybug must be busy or maybe she already knew? Did she help you? How did you escape?”

Part of her wondered if Alya had even stopped to breathe. The rest of her was just basking in the happiness that they had made it back safe and nothing too terrible had happened in the meantime.

The absolute LAST thing she needed was to come back and find out Hawk Moth had let loose another akuma that destroyed Paris while she was gone.

Alya suddenly gasped as though struck by a thought.

“Oh my god, Marinette! I can’t believe you did that!”

Marinette smiled. “Well, I had to—”

“You claimed to be MDC just to protect Lila! And here I thought you hated her!”

Happy feeling gone. Gone like a punch to the face. Knocked out. Dead, even.

Alya beamed. “I’m so proud of you, girl! I knew deep down that—”

“Nope!” Came a quick interruption. “That’s not what happened. It was just a lie. Completely and utterly.”

The interruption was half expected.

The fact that it came from Lila was not.

Everyone froze.

“What?”

“I never met MDC.” Lila explained, wasting absolutely no time with subtleties and just blurting it out. “I never knew Marinette was MDC. I just lied about knowing him because I thought he was the next big thing and I knew you would all believe me.”

“…what?”

Lila sighed. “I lied about knowing MDC. And being the muse behind his fashion line—well, hers. Since Marinette is MDC. She never lied. I did.”

The classmates were startled, but seemed to be taking in the information.

Rose, for her part, tried to be positive. “Oh...well, you didn’t have to lie about knowing MDC—”

“No, I mean about everything. Ever. In fact, there’s probably not a single time we’ve known each other that I was ever honest with any of you.”

Everyone stared.

“I’ve been lying since the moment we’ve met.” Lila continued. “I am a liar. Always have been. I am a horrible lying liar who lied about everyone I ever claimed to know and everything I ever said I did just to get you all to admire me because it was easier to manipulate you that way and get you to do things I wanted. From interviewing me for the Ladyblog to carrying my lunch tray to buying me things. I lied about having tinnitus just to get to sit next to Adrien and lied about not being interested in him to manipulate Nino into guilting him into letting me come to his house. Ladybug herself even called me out for lying. And when Marinette got upset that day I came back over the seat change? I threatened her in the bathroom because she was wise to me from the very start.”

A few stares were sent Marinette’s way. She didn’t have any explanation for them though. She was just as surprised as they were. More, even.

Lila shrugged. “Everything I’ve said. Everything I’ve done. All lies. Ever.”

Everyone gaped in shock. Nobody even really knew what to say.

Marinette started. “But why—”

“Because that was Hell, Marinette. HELL. The bad place you go to after you die, reserved for bad people. And until today, I didn’t even think it was real. Or that there could be a chance I could end up there. But I imagine if anything would warrant that, it’d be lying, manipulating, and trying to get revenge on a superhero.”

Nino blinked. “Wait…what was that last one—”

As if a great weight was lifted from her shoulders, Lila sighed. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go join a convent to try and save my soul now that I know I have one.”

With that, she promptly exited the room, leaving the group staring after her in complete bewilderment.

Alya gaped. “...what?”

_________

Epilogue: 

Marinette completed her commission to the demon and later for Moxie. Her fame increased in both realms and she eventually did open up her own design house. The only issue came in the customers who wanted to pay her by removing her competition, which she was mostly able to prevent until IMP took a hit on Gabriel Agreste. While Marinette did stop the attempted murder, this did still reveal his secondary identity of Hawk Moth, allowing the Butterfly and Peacock to be recovered and peace to return to Paris.

The classmates were shocked at the reveal of Lila’s true nature, but were more bewildered than anything given how it happened. They did all feel foolish and embarrassed for trusting Lila, but considering what could have happened, they all chose to take it as a life lesson to be more cautious in the future. They all remained friends and moved on to live quite fulfilling lives.

IMP formed a contract with MDC and gained a secondary job of delivery service as well as assassins, which increased their profits.

And Millie loved her new dress.

Lila Rossi convinced her mother to send her to a convent, where she became one of the most pious and devout members, spreading the message of being good in life more than any other.

#ml fic #ml crossover #marinette dupain cheng #Lila sucks #lila redemption #helluva boss

[hopefulcanary]

@peacelovengranola had a really great question over on my Lord Stark piece that I wanted to answer as a post, since this might get lengthy.

Full disclosure: I am not a historian or anything related to that, I'm just a hobbyist costume geek who loves clothing and history. Please don't consider this The Definitive Guide To anything, just suggestions of what works for me and where to get started when digging in to (specifically Western European & North American) fashion.

For all of my Semi-Historical Stark pieces, my primary sources are artwork from the period (and in some case photos and extant fashion pieces), as well as books. Loooots of books. Once I hit the later 19th century, things like fashion ads, department store catalogs, magazines, and pattern books are incredibly useful tools for fashion history references.

(I recommend avoiding fantasy art depicting mythological folks {gods, the Saints, King Arthur etc} because the fashions get a little, well, fantastical, heads up)

Because there's just so much knowledge out there, and it's intimidating as heck, I go for broad strokes first ("What era do I want to learn about?") then I start carving out specifics.

"Specifics"?

Lord Stark's overall look is from the Renaissance, sure, but specifically England in the 1560s. He's also meant to be a nobleman, as class distinction (and career) is important to how he'd dress, the materials he'd wear, decorative motifs etc etc. While it seems like a lot to keep in mind, think of it as adding filters to a Google search, to help you narrow your focus (and save your sanity).

"But Beck, how do I know a site is legit with their info?"

Look for sources! Any article should list the sources or books they're referencing. Want to avoid Amazon? Thrift used copies or shop directly from the publisher. Can't find physical copies of them, or the copies that do exist are just obscenely expensive? Take advantage of sites like LibGen, Archive.org, and Hathitrust to read digital copies! Or search for Epubs and PDFs, friend!

(Though I would never, ever suggest you illegally download a book that's stupidly overpriced on Amazon or eBay 😶 That would be so wrong and mean to the seller 😶 {please DO support small businesses!})

(Also hilariously, Karolina Żebrowska answered a similar question last year so go watch/read her suggestions too, she actually knows way more than I do.)

Stuff I've been reading:

The Costume Institute at The Met

Fashion History Timeline

A Dictionary of Costume and Fashion - a definite (and cheap, yo!) must if you just want to know wtf something is called, which makes searching for specific examples a breeze.

Reference Book of Women's Vintage Clothing: 1900-1909

The Mode in Costume

Medieval Costume in England and France: The 13th, 14th, and 15th Centuries

European Civil & Military Clothing

Fashion in the Middle Ages

Vintage patterns you can read and reference. These are outstanding if you want to see what regular folks were making for themselves.

Example of a Sears Roebuck catalog from the 20's

Pinterest is a pretty good resource in a pinch, as you can often find fashion albums filtered to specific dates in history. Be aware that they might not always be accurate (unless they're dated on the photo, like with some fashion plates), so you may want to cross-reference as well.

--

This is just a super small sampling of what's out there to read! Don't be afraid to indulge in what you want to learn about either. If you just want to learn about Victorian bustle trends, or Black American hairstyles of the mid-1960s, or the garments of 12th century French peasants, go for it.

If you want to go into even further detail (and if you're a fellow artist), look up how period garments were worn, and the various underthings people wore as well. Get real extra with it and read up on where/how they lived, and their daily lives.

The sky's the limit here, have fun with it 👍 I hope this layperson's primer helps, and makes it a little less daunting.

#my art #fashion history #fashion #self taught

[peregrination-studies]

Hi! How did you go about looking for grad programs? I still have a couple years before undergrad is over but I'm trying to start looking early 💕

Hi hi!

Okay first off this is a REALLY good question. No one ever taught me how to look for/pick programs, so I sort of pieced it all together as I went.

I started off by making a list of all the different degree programs I was considering. If you have a clear idea of what program you wanna pursue, then you can skip this part. For this, I sat down with a pen and paper and my phone's voice memo recorder on and just talked myself through the pros and cons of each program I considered. There were, like, a lot. This took awhile.

Second, I thought about and made a list of all the qualities that my dream school would have (unfortunately a lot of the content on my list went out the window with covid, but I still used *some* of it lol.) That helped give me a general framework to work with. I included factors like geographic location, if it has an online option available/if the online option has good reviews, and financial aid/scholarship info.

Third, this is where the research comes in, but it's not so bad I swear! There are a few ways to do this. You can start by looking at the Big Names in your field and seeing where they went to school. Usually the Big Names will have a few different schools under their belt, and you can just make a note of those schools as especially important/good options bc they produce leaders of the field. That's one way to go about it.

You can also search something like "best schools for [your field of study]" and work from there. If you've got a very particular field in mind, this is probably the way to go. (Like, if you want to study psychology as a masters, and you're interested in it just for studying psychoneuroendocrinology, this is the way to search since not every school has those sort of niche programs. If you're looking at a field more generally, then I recommend the below:)

Another way: instead of going case-by-case for the Big Names of your field, you can do a broader search, and narrow it down from there. One of my favorite programs for filtering through schools is niche's grad school tool. I added a search already in that link (oceanography masters), but you can readjust as you please. That program is awesome for just seeing what's out there, and you can specify 1) if you want online-only, in person, or a mix of the two 2) what level of degree you want (Master's, Doctorate,) 3) specific programs or departments (humanities or comp sci or oceanography etc.) 4) geographic locations. You can view your results either on a map or in a list. (I'm personally partial to the map option, but that's probably just the geography degree speaking.)

Fourth, another really important factor to consider is resources and faculty. Once you've found a few schools that you like, you can do a bit more research into the faculty there. You can start on the school's page, and usually, there's a way to search faculty index by department. (This page is a good example of what I'm talking about.) If you've got a specific interest in the field, you can search through the faculty, and see if anyone matches what you like. Like, for me, I was looking into people who studied paleoclimatology. So I would pull up the faculty page and then cntrl + f for "paleoclimate" or "paleoclimatology" to find faculty members who might work with me.) "Does x school have someone who has similar interests as me and who might be willing to work with me on a thesis/project?" is one of the fundamental questions of grad school consideration. More and more grad schools are offering projects as alternatives to theses, but you'll still want to have a faculty member who can support you through that grueling educational time.

I hope this helps! I know it seems like a really intimidating process, but honestly half the battle is just figuring out what *you* want from a school.

#asks #answered #mutuals #friends #daydreaming-optimist #grad school #advice #resources

[wingsofkpop]

Hiraeth - I.VII: Shattered Memories

pairing(s): Hybrid!Im Jaebeom x Reader, Witch!Mark Tuan x Reader, Werewolf!Jackson Wang x Reader, Vampire!Park Jinyoung x Reader, Supernatural!Got7 x Reader

genre: Supernatural!AU, Dark Magic!AU, Angst, Fluff, light Smut

warnings: Mature language, mentions of death and murder, mentions of trauma, brief depictions of sexual content, nudity, mentions of alcohol, some satanic themes, etc.

word count: 6,9k

synopsis: How far are you willing to go to find out the truth about Moon Dye Bay?…

chapter directory

Your eyes desperately survey the dim room, searching for a way to escape from this strange man who magically appeared in your bedroom. There’s no possibility of reaching the door without alerting him to your motives, nor is the window even an option since your apartment is almost nine stories up. You’ll need to come up with a different plan… Even if it means fighting your way out. 

“Look, I know it’s hard to believe—” 

You glare incredulously at the stranger, curling further into your bed to create more distance between your forms while hissing, “Jackson Wang died years ago, so unless you have some logical explanation or something, then I’m going to kindly ask you to get out of my fucking apartment before I call the police!” 

“I do have a logical explanation!” The man insists as you take another glance at your surroundings. If you play your cards right, you might be able to grab the tea mug off your nightstand, throw it at the stranger, and while he’s distracted, make a break for the door. If anything, the noise will hopefully wake up Sana… 

You snap out of your thoughts when you notice the man beginning to approach your safe perch. Deciding now is better than never, you lurch forward to grab the cup and heave it toward the stranger with all your might. However, the object merely soars straight through the man’s head and shatters against the opposite wall with a loud crash. He continues to stare at you as if nothing even happened. 

A choked breath slips past your lips. “What… the fuck…” 

“I tried to tell you.” The man raises his hands, as if to promise pacifism, and literally slides one arm inside the closed door of your closet, “I am Jackson Wang, and I am dead… but you’re still somehow able to see my spirit.” 

“So you’re… a ghost?” 

He nods. 

You narrow your eyes, still suspicious. “If you’re Jackson, then how did you die?” 

“I was killed.” 

“By who?” 

Jackson tilts his head, “Mark never told you…?” 

Your shoulders slightly loosen at the mention of your witch best friend, but you still remain on your toes in case you have to grab and weaponize your lamp. “How do you know about Mark and I?” 

“Because I’ve been watching you guys.” Jackson’s eyes widen. “Shit—that sounded really creepy. Think of it like… a guardian angel? Kind of?” 

“What?” 

He waves his hands as if expelling the idea before moving on, “If you’re a supernatural being, and you die, your spirit doesn’t really cross over like a mortal would. You’re kind of just… stuck in this place of limbo called the Other Side.” 

“But how are you able to be here? And how can I see you?”

“Spirits can attach themselves to people or objects, and use their energy to stay in the land of the living.” Jackson shrugs, “As for how you can see me, I have no clue. I’m honestly just as surprised as you are.” 

You bite your lip, trying to configure whether he’s telling the truth. If only you had asked Mark to describe Jackson back in the cave, then maybe you could have matched up his appearance. But all you have to go off of is this ghost’s words… which for the most part, seem genuine. And he hasn’t tried to hurt you—big props.  

“Okay. Let’s just say I believe you for now,” You start before quickly raising a stern finger to point your companion, “but I have tons of questions. For starters, why the hell are you in my room?” 

“I don’t really know.” Jackson grimaces, rubbing the back of his neck. “It sounds really weird, but it was like I was drawn to you…”

“Drawn to me? You mean like a magnetic pull or something?” 

He nods. “Exactly. But I really don’t know why. Maybe it has to do with how you can see me.” 

Feeling hot, you shove the heavy blankets from your body and embrace the newfound cold air against your bare skin. An exhausted, baffled sigh escapes as you bury your face in your palms, hoping to calm the throbbing in your head. Your thoughts are too wild though, and you end up meeting Jackson’s gaze in a matter of seconds. 

“So am I supposed to play Ghost Whisperer and help you cross over…?” 

“I don’t think so.” You fight off the urge to flinch as Jackson collapses onto the end of your bed with a deep huff, “But whatever it is, it’s really nice to have someone to talk to…”

“Are you alone? Like can you talk to other ghosts?” 

“I can, but it doesn’t happen very often. A lot of people on the Other Side can be pretty… intense.” 

To your dismay, your heart yearns for him. You grew up on your own after all, so you can understand what it feels like to be lonely.

“You never answered my question from before.” You say after a brief moment of silence, “...Who killed you?” 

Jackson’s eyes are dark as he thinks over your question, almost hesitating to give you the answer. While he’s debating with himself, you take the time to study his features. Now that he’s sitting entirely in the light and you’re able to see everything. 

You’re not surprised you mistook him as a human, because there’s literally no physical detail that reveals his ghastly nature. Unlike the ghost stories you’ve known, his skin is dark like honey and not transparent, while his lips are slightly chapped and hued the palest of pinks. His hair is a mocha-type brown with a couple sun-kissed caramel highlights, complimenting the sharpness of his handsome features. 

In summary, he looked no less human than another man. Although probably a bit more on the attractive side. 

“It’s honestly a long and complicated story.” Jackson says after a while, yanking your attention away from his well-defined jawline. Even so, you still continue to stare as he leans back to lay on your mattress, staring up at the ceiling with a blank expression. “I should really tell you everything from the beginning.” 

“It’s not like I’m going anywhere at…” You peer at the clock above your closet, “3 AM. We’ve got plenty of time to talk.” 

He shakes his head, “It’s not that easy. I can’t stay on this plane for too long, or else some of the witches on the Other Side will pull me back.” 

“How long do you have?” 

“Honestly… seconds.” The ghost forces himself back to a sitting position in order to better face you, “We’re technically not supposed to cross into the plane of the living. I’ve been caught a couple times before, so the witches have been keeping a close eye on me.” 

You furrow your brows. “Why don’t the witches want you over here?” 

“Because they’re afraid of upsetting the balance of nature. You’ve talked to Mark a little about that, right?” 

“He mentioned it once or twice.” You watch as Jackson rises from your bed and begins to head back to the corner in which you first saw him. He catches your gaze when he turns back around, offering forth a small smile. 

“Sorry for scaring you, by the way.” He chuckles. 

You shrug, your own lips upturning slightly. “It’s not everyday you talk to a ghost.” 

Jackson nods at your response before glancing toward the mounted clock. It’s subtle, but you manage to catch the slight flash of worry that overtakes his bright irises. When he turns his attention back to you, however, the concern is gone. 

“I don’t know when I’ll be able to return, but in the meantime, I want you to go talk to my pack.” Unlike beforehand, Jackson’s tone is scarily serious. Though it still contains remnants of his unusual gentleness. “They’ll tell you the basics you need to know to start. And, (Y/N)?” 

“Yeah?” 

Jackson’s eyes soften. “I don’t want Mark to know anything about this, okay? You’ll understand better when you hear the story.” 

“Of course.” You thumb at a loose thread along the seam of your pillowcase before shaking your head toward the ghost, “Before you go, can you at least tell me who killed you?” 

“Like I told you, it’s complicated…” He sighs, “But if you have to know, the Prime Two had a hand in my death… specifically Jaebeom.” 

You don’t know what you were expecting, but it certainly wasn’t the name of the ancient hybrid. Still, it surprises you, and it doesn’t. Given the tension all between Mark, the pack, and Jinyoung and Jaebeom, it actually kind of makes sense. But what about the conflict that Changbin hinted at? Or Jaebeom’s bitterness with Mark? What has everyone been keeping from you?

So many puzzles pieces, yet no clue how to fit them together. 

“I have to go now, but I’ll come to you as soon as I can.” Jackson’s urge brings you back to reality. “Just do what I said and get as much info as you can, okay?” 

You nod. “I’m on it. See you soon, I guess?” 

Jackson smiles again. “See you soon, (Y/N).” 

You open your mouth to say something further, but in the literal blink of an eye, Jackson is gone. Just vanished into thin air. If you didn’t know any better, you swear you hallucinated the entire conversation… but after all you’ve witnessed in Moon Dye Bay, you do unfortunately know better. 

With a groan, you fall back into your pillows, although the exhaustion from before is long gone. You doubt you’ll be able to fall asleep anytime soon, so you rise from your bed and set out to clean up the broken pieces of the mug you threw at Jackson only minutes before. 

Guess having tea before bed comes in handy sometimes. 

 ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

Steam wafts through the tiled bathroom, gathering in a blanket of fog along the glass walls of the shower. Jaebeom releases a sigh of relief as the hot water beats against his bare back and shoulders, massaging the tension from his muscles and soaking the rest of his naked body. To gain better access to the stream, he leans forward and presses his hands against the fogged glass for support. Less he wants to slip and fall. 

Jaebeom peers down to watch the water spill down the drain, tinted red from the blood decorating his skin—Jinyoung’s blood, to be more specific. His mind immediately rushes back to the memory of his brother calling out for help in such agony and pain. He wanted to ignore it. He tried not to care. But then Jinyoung called out his name… what else was he supposed to do? 

Jinyoung deserved a lesson for getting involved in witch business again, but Jaebeom couldn’t just sit back and let him suffer through the hallucinations of their hell of a childhood. He curses himself for giving into such weakness and angrily scrubs away the patch of dried blood on his forearm. 

Maybe if you hadn’t looked at him with those bright, horrified eyes of yours after he left the room… then maybe his inhumanity could have won the battle over his sanity. 

Jaebeom continues to clean himself as his thoughts wander like the steam of the shower. Jinyoung’s fever broke earlier, so he should sleep much more soundly for the next few hours or so. His body will need time to heal, more so because of his stupid, anti-human diet. Maybe Jaebeom will be able to finally convince the pretentious prick to hunt with him after all these years. Or at the very least, drink from a blood bag. 

A faint noise that sounds vaguely like footsteps awakens Jaebeom from his shower-thought reverie. He squints through the shower door, trying to see past the curtain of steam. The bathroom is vacant save for the blurred image of his own reflection. Even so, something still proceeds to urk at Jaebeom’s senses, like an itch he can’t scratch. 

There’s someone here. 

It only takes milliseconds for Jaebeom to corner the figure that sneakily crept inside the shower with him and press them against the tiled wall. A little, feminine giggle emerges from the intruder as the hybrid cages them between his arms and broad chest. His nerves immediately calm at the devious face that stares back at him, instead earning a loud sigh of annoyance. 

“You’re lucky I didn’t rip your fucking head off.” 

“Mhm. I know how… rough you like to be.” 

Jaebeom provides the female an unamused expression. “What are you doing here, Tzuyu?” 

“Come on. I know you’re happy to see me.” Tzuyu flashes Jaebeom a radiant smile that resembles one of a temptress. Because of their position underneath the showerhead, her dark brown hair is already soaked. He also quickly realizes that she is just as naked as him. “I can’t just drop by and see my most favorite person in the world?” 

“You and I both know that’s a lie.” 

Tzuyu smirks. “That you’re my favorite person in the world, or that you’re happy to see me?” 

“What do you think?” He begins to pull away from the female vampire, but she stops him with a tight arm around his neck. Before he can blink, Tzuyu’s lips are pressed firmly against his own. Her sweet taste invades his brain like a parasite, and he can’t help but melt into the kiss, hungrily pushing his tongue past the seam of her mouth to find more of her delicacy. 

When she pulls back, Jaebeom almost growls. He lowers his hands to tightly grasp her waist before pressing her even further into the wall with his own body. In an effort to make up for the loss, he busies himself by sucking and nibbling along the canvas of her throat. His pride swells when she moans at a particular nip. 

“A little eager, aren’t we?” Tzuyu mocks, deviously brushing her knee against Jaebeom’s gradually swelling manhood. His body thrums at the brief contact, quickening his abuse against the patch where her jaw meets her neck. 

“You’re the one who interrupted my shower, remember?” He abandons her throat to trail a hand up to her breast, roughly pinching at her taut nipple and smirking at the low groan that bubbles in her chest. “If anyone’s desperate here, it’s you.” 

“Touche.” The vampire arches her back more into Jaebeom’s alluring touch. The hybrid welcomes the newfound access, dipping his head down to take one of her buds past his lips. Tzuyu releases a faint whimper before burying her fingers in his wet locks. When she harshly tugs against his scalp, Jaebeom responds with a warning growl. 

He detaches from her nipple and chuckles darkly, “We also know that you are the one that likes it rough.” 

“Maybe I do.” Tzuyu’s smile is dangerous. “So what’s the big, bad hybrid gonna do with a helpless damsel like me?” 

Jaebeom relishes the squeal of surprise that flies from her lips as he lifts her body in the air, tying her legs around his waist with a smirk. “I can think of a couple things…” 

Just as soon as the words are spoken, the muffled ring of the doorbell distracts Jaebeom from his lustful rendezvous. He releases a frustrated groan, carefully lowers Tzuyu back to the floor, then shuts off the water. The vampire follows him as he exits the shower, watching intensely as he towels off and slips into a loose pair of sweatpants. 

“Stay here.” Jaebeom says before taking off, quickly making his way through his bedroom, downstairs until he reaches the front door. Shaking out his still rather wet hair, he opens the door, prepared to tear apart whoever interrupted his moment. 

However, all his anger vanishes into thin air at the visitor on his doorstep.

His eyes widen to saucers. “(Y/N)?” 

“Jaebeom.” The animosity along your features falters when you notice his bare chest. You clear your throat before locking your gaze with his own. “How’s Jinyoung?” 

Jaebeom’s mood deflates. You’re here for Jinyoung. Not him. 

“The worst is over.” He replies truthfully, “He should be back to full health in the next few hours or so.” 

“I’m sure he could have been better a lot sooner, but whatever, right?” Jaebeom decides not to drop the fact that he actually did heal Jinyoung. Besides, even if he wanted to, your voice would have beaten him to it, “Anyway, I’m here because I need to know what happened to J…” Confusion invades his veins when your voice suddenly cuts out. He notices your gaze on something over his shoulder, internally cursing himself for already knowing what it is. 

“Who’s this pretty, little thing?” Tzuyu sidles up beside Jaebeom, eyeing your speechless form from head to toe. Her hand slithers to lazily rest on his tricep, but the hybrid can spot a symbolism of claim anywhere. And judging by the strange look in your eyes, so can you. 

“I thought I told you to stay upstairs.” 

“And miss meeting your human pet? How could I ever?” 

Jaebeom shoots the vampire a warning look. Tzuyu innocently bats her eyes. 

“I was actually just leaving.” You say, tearing Jaebeom’s attention away from his devious companion. He wants to say something further, maybe ask you to stay a little longer, but you’re already tugging your bag further over your shoulder and backing away from the door. “Tell Jinyoung that I hope he feels better, ‘kay?” 

Jaebeom shakes his head. “Sure, but (Y/N)—” 

You’re already walking away before he has the chance to finish his sentence. Jaebeom watches your form until it disappears inside a car, and even then, he watches the car until it drives past the entrance gate of the estate and out of sight. A strange, empty feeling remains in his chest, as well as the beginnings of annoyance and rage. 

Tzuyu leans forward to litter light pecks across his bare shoulder. “Should we… get back to where we left off?” 

Jaebeom slams the front door shut with a pound before pushing past the vampire without so much as a response. Tzuyu’s sigh follows him as he makes his way into the living room where he heads straight for the liquor table. He begins to pour himself a drink while Tzuyu situates herself against the doorway. Even with his back to her, he can feel her piercing gaze staring into his soul. 

“She seemed nice… (Y/N), was it?” 

Jaebeom downs his first glass of bourbon before shaking his head, “Drop it, Tzuyu.” 

“So I’m not allowed to learn about your other girlfriends? Though I have to say, I’m surprised you’d ever go for a human.” 

“It’s not like that.” He answers, glaring at the pouting vampire from over his shoulder. “She’s a friend of Jinyoung. We’ve only met like twice.”

Tzuyu smiles. This time it doesn’t spark arousal through Jaebeom’s body. It strikes fear. 

“I saw the way you looked at her, Beomie… I wasn’t lying when I said she’s a pretty thing.” 

Her tone of voice sends warning bells through his chest. 

Jaebeom hisses darkly, “Stay the fuck away from her, Tzuyu. I mean it.” 

“I would never lay on hand on your fragile human, Beom.” Something about the way her eyes gleam leaves an uneasy feeling stirring through his chest. That, and the way she looks down to check her nails with a sinister smirk. “Though I’m sure it would be so easy to cut out that sweet tongue of her—” 

“Tzuyu—” 

“Just kidding.” The vampire leaps from her perch against the doorway to steal the drink from Jaebeom’s hand. He watches her warily as she skips toward the window, staring out on the estate courtyards as she sips at the alcohol. Though her back is turned, Jaebeom can practically feel the cogs turning inside her head. 

He only hopes she keeps true to her words. For your sake. 

 ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

The purr of the car engine blends with the hum of your cell phone receiver. With each ring that passes, the trees outside the window grow more and more abundant while the hope within your heart only becomes less and less. You sigh when the familiar monotone message clicks across the line. For a moment, you debate on whether or not to leave yet another voicemail… It’s not like she’s answered the dozens you’ve already recorded before. 

The little hope that remains outweighs your logic. “Hey. It’s (Y/N) again. I don’t know if you’re not getting my messages or just ignoring me, but… I’m really worried about you, Jihyo.” You bite your lip, readjusting your grip on the steering wheel before steering the vehicle onto another branching, dirt road. 

“Sana was really shaken up last night and things are just kind of screwed up right now—for fucksake, Ji, please just pick up your goddamn phone and call me!” You end the call with a lot more force than necessary, tossing your phone into your open bag resting on the passenger’s seat. In order to calm the frustration bubbling through your veins, you focus your attention on the winding road ahead. 

After somehow managing to acquire the location of the werewolf pack’s hangout from Bambam, Sana agreed to lend you her car. She needs some time to cope, especially with Momo and Mina’s “sudden disappearance”, so she’s taking the next couple of days away from work at Moon Dye Bay’s local cafe. 

You thought it would be wise not to drop the real bomb about her high school friends when she was already wrecked over Jihyo’s walk-out, and while you hate lying… what choice do you have? If you tell Sana the truth, then you’d have to also tell her how and why Momo and Mina died. And with that, you’d have to tell her about the bay’s secret society of witches, werewolves, vampires, etc. 

Disgust filters through your body as you’re reminded of your less than awkward visit at the Project Estate. The fact that Jaebeom is able to fuck one out of probably very many of his pretty call-girls while his best friend endures the worst of all sicknesses right down the hall just rubs you all the wrong ways. Maybe that whole speech about his humanity from Jinyoung was one big hoax to get you to feel sorry for him, but you refuse to do so. 

You also refuse to linger on how that woman you saw with Jaebeom was one of the most beautiful women you’ve ever seen… and how it settles an uncomfortable pit in the depths of your gut. 

At the sight of the cabin, you push all thoughts from mind and maneuver the car to pull up in front of the large residence. It surprises you how abandoned and poorly-taken care of the outside of the cabin is, considering Bam said that everyone in the pack basically lives here. Then again, if one of your closest friends and packmate was killed out of the blue, you wouldn’t care much about appearances either. 

After cutting out the engine and grabbing your bag, you exit the vehicle. Bird songs and the buzzing of mosquitoes welcome you as you make your way up to the front door. You almost trip over a loose board on the cabin’s wraparound deck, but you manage to catch yourself before you slam nose first into the wooden ground. Just as you’re about to lift your hand and rap your knuckles against the door, a familiar voice seizes your attention: 

“(Y/N)? Is that you?” Dahyun emerges from around the side of the cabin, carrying a homemade, woven basket full of wet laundry. With a hand on her hip and a raise of her eyebrow, she continues, “You’re the last person I expected to see today… Did Mark send you?” 

“No, no.” You shake your head, “I was actually hoping to talk to Chan, or maybe Yugyeom about something?” 

Dahyun offers a sympathetic smile. “Sorry, hun. Everyone’s out today except me and some of the youngsters.” She pauses to support the basket against her hip. “Is there anything I can help you with? If you’d like, we can talk while I take care of these clothes?” 

“That would be great actually.” You agree, returning Dahyun’s bright smile with a weak grin of your own. The werewolf nods and gestures for you to follow her with her free hand, which you do so without any complaint. 

Once you turn the corner, your jaw almost drops at the sight of the backyard. Unlike the front of the cabin, which looks so unkempt and depressing, the back is the total opposite. It almost reminds you of a mini oasis, with the tiny pond full of flowered lily pads and the bushes of vivid, flourishing roses. Twinkling fairy lights hang from branches of trees, and you can only imagine how pretty it would appear at night. 

You and Dahyun pass a couple of other strangers playing Uno at one of the few picnic tables stationed around the massive yard. One of them, a young dirty-blonde teen, looks up as you walk by and offers a kind smile, which you can’t resist to return. 

Dahyun hums, “That’s Felix. Chan’s little brother.” 

“Really? I didn’t know he had a brother.” 

You take a seat on a mossy tree stump, watching as Dahyun sets down her basket and begins to hang the wet laundry along an already prepared clothesline. After staring for a few moments, you climb back to your feet and move to help the werewolf. 

She grants you a grateful smile and shrugs, “Most don’t. Felix hasn’t triggered his gene yet.” 

“His gene?” You repeat, pinning a large, black T-shirt onto the line. 

“Oh right. You probably don’t know much about wolves yet.” Dahyun peels open a moist towel and continues, “Basically, we’re born with this gene that has to be ‘triggered’ in order for us to activate our werewolf abilities.” 

“So the whole werewolf bite or scratch thing is a myth?” 

“One hundred percent bullshit.” She laughs. 

You chuckle as well, before inquiring further, “How do you trigger it?” 

Dahyun’s laughter immediately cuts out. Thinking you said something wrong, you open your mouth to reconcile, but the wolf beats you to it. Her tone nowhere near as light-hearted as before: 

“You have to… kill someone.” 

Your stomach twists, butterflies of revulsion fluttering all the way up to your chest. You notice how Dahyun no longer tries to meet your eyes, instead fully investing her attention in wringing out the dripping wet mass of fabric before pinning the corners to the line. 

“It’s usually an accident for most of us though.” She shrugs with a faraway expression, “Sometimes we just lose control of our emotions and things get out of hand… then somebody ends up dead, and you turn the next full moon. Whether you meant to or not.”  

You reach over to place a comforting hand on her elbow. “I’m so sorry… That sounds horrible.” 

“It’s just the world we live in.” Dahyun seems to snap out of her traumatized state and throws a slightly awkward smile in your direction, “Anyway, once your gene is triggered, you turn into a wolf every full moon for the rest of your life.” 

“Do you have control when you turn?” 

“Not exactly. Our werewolf form is like a totally different part of us.” 

You nod in understanding. At her guidance, you begin to take down the clothes that had dried beforehand while she finishes hanging the last of the remaining laundry. Once the last garment is pinned to the clothesline, the werewolf takes a seat in the grass and moves to begin folding the dry batch. You do the same. 

“Now with all that aside, what was it that you wanted to talk about?” 

“Oh. Right.” You bite your lip, trying to come up with the best way to bring up a dead Jackson without striking a personal chord. After a moment of silence, Dahyun must notice your apprehension, as she drops the socks in her hands and leans forward to lightly pat at your calf with a patient smile. 

Her kind facial expression alone is enough to evoke a slight wave of bravery from your soul: 

“Well, I was wondering about… Jackson Wang.” You say carefully, keeping your eyes on Dahyun’s gradually faltering smile. 

The werewolf leans back from you with a heavy sigh before releasing a soft chuckle, “It’s been a while since I’ve heard that name. Though I’m a little surprised… I thought Mark would have told you all about Jackson by now.” 

You shake your head. 

“Jackson was our first Alpha, before Chan took over. All of this actually belonged to his family—” She pauses to gesture to the cabin. “—but after his parents found out he triggered his curse, they gave it to him so he could have somewhere to get away. Eventually it became a sanctuary for the werewolves of Moon Dye Bay.” 

“Mark told me Jackson was his best friend…” 

Dahyun nods. “Ever since high school. Mark helped Jackson when he turned the first time, and Jackson was there for Mark when his mother died.” 

Your heart warms at the thought of Mark having such a close, supportive relationship with someone. However, that same feeling falters when you remember Jackson’s mysterious, tragic death. 

“So how did he die?” You ask quietly, peering over Dahyun’s shoulder to check the state of the other inhabitants in the backyard. Felix and his other friends are still engaged in their rather intense card game and are paying no mind to you nor Dahyun. The information lessens your anxiety, though only slightly. 

You return your focus to your companion when she tosses a wrinkled shirt back inside the basket with a bitter glare. “The Primes killed him.” 

“But why?” Dahyun turns at your inquiry. “There had to have been a reason? Right?” 

“When the Primes first came back to town, about four years ago, Mark and Jackson came up with a plan to try to kill their ancient asses once and for all.” 

“How? They’re invincible?” 

“Mark was going to gather enough power to break the immortality curse that makes them untouchable.” She answers, “Once Mark took out their safeguard, Jackson would drive a stake through each of their hearts.” 

You frown. “I’m guessing that didn’t go as planned?” 

“Mark couldn’t get the magic in time, but Jackson was never one to back down from a fight.” 

“What do you mean?” 

Dahyun rolls her eyes. “Jackson was one of the best people I will ever know, but his ambition always went to that big-ass head of his. That night, he was going to kill the Prime Two or he was going to die trying…” 

“So you’re saying it was… his fault he died?” 

“Yes and no.” She hums with a shrug. “Like I said, Jackson was always that ride or die kind of person. He was passionate and driven, but he was also reckless and stubborn.”  

You furrow your brow before leaning back on your palms. Puzzle pieces are slowly starting to fit together, especially concerning Mark and why he blames himself for Jackson’s death, but what doesn’t make sense is why Jackson died in the first place? If Jaebeom and Jinyoung couldn’t be killed then, and still can’t be killed now, what threat is a brash, pig-headed werewolf?... And why would Jackson be so driven to kill the Primes that he’d give up his own life doing so? 

Before you can spill your concerns to the waiting werewolf, the buzz of your phone seizes your attention. You retract the device from your bag to check the text message, finding a thread of new messages from Sana, one of which asking when you’re going to return to the apartment. You shoot her a quick answer with a promise to also pick up some dinner before you turn back to Dahyun. 

“I should probably get going. I have a couple errands to run before the sun goes down.” 

She rises to her feet in synchronization with you. “Of course. I hope I helped at least a little.” 

“You helped so much, Dahyun. Really. Thank you.” 

“I’m glad.” The werewolf smiles. “It was really nice to see and talk to you, (Y/N). If you need anything else, please don’t hesitate to come visit me again.” 

“I appreciate that more than you could know.” You lean in to give Dahyun a quick, easy hug before walking with her back toward the front of the cabin. In the midst of approaching Sana’s car, your mind shifts back to another important, yet crazy thought that occurred to you while in conversation with Jackson last night. Without thinking about the consequences, you pause and ask Dahyun one final question: 

“Is it… possible to bring someone back from the dead?” 

Judging by her tense shoulders and bewildered expression, your abrupt inquiry takes Dahyun by surprise. She merely stares at you with saucer-like eyes and parted lips for a moment, until she seems to regain her composure. 

Even then, her words are muddled and full of confusion. “I-I mean, I don’t know anything about witchcraft myself, b-but I think so?” She narrows her eyes. “...Why?” 

“Just wondering.” You play off her curiosity by pulling your keys from your bag and opening the driver’s door. With a weak smile and a nod, you bid the werewolf farewell. “Thanks again. I’ll see you around.” 

You don’t wait for Dahyun’s response, too worried that she might somehow pick up on the plan slowly building inside your head. Without a second to spare, you switch on the engine, put the vehicle in proper gear and back out of the cabin’s driveway. Dahyun watches from the deck, and though you’re distant from one another, you can feel the intensity of her stare as you maneuver back onto the dirt, forest roads. 

Once you’re a decent distance from the cabin, you find your cell phone, pull up a specific contact and balance the device on your shoulder. The line picks up after two rings, and you don’t wait for the usual chime of a greeting. Not when you’re so deep into everything now. 

“Bam, I need everything you have on necromancy.” You say into the phone, squeezing the leather cover of the steering wheel in a mixture of anticipation and excitement. “And I also need you to promise not to say a word about this to anyone… Not even Yugyeom.” 

 ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

Changbin is fuming. Absolutely fuming. 

It feels like his entire body is made of electricity, coursing through his veins and boiling his blood red-hot. He can’t control the trembling of his hands. Not even when he stuffs them inside the pocket of his hoodie. The urge to break something is strong, but Changbin doesn’t want to break just anything… No—he wants to break someone. Hurt someone. 

There was once a time he would have never thought these words. Then again, that was before the Primes came to town, and before Jackson was murdered. Everything changed after that. Everyone changed. When the pretentious, youngest asshole of a bloodsucker showed up to reveal that Jackson’s body couldn’t even be handed over, no one put up a fight. No one stood up for their Alpha. Life just went on, as if nothing had changed. 

A hiss sounds through Changbin’s gritted teeth as he thinks back to his most recent argument with Chan and Yugyeom. Neither of them even cared when he told them that Dahyun was the one who came at him first. They didn’t listen… but why would they? Changbin is just the runt with the anger issues, right? Why would anything he have to say matter? Why should they give a damn about his perspective… about his pain?

No one understands how much Changbin misses Jackson, nor do they understand how much anger it brings him that his legacy still goes unavenged. For fucksake, no one is brave enough to say his goddamn name aloud anymore. And even when he’s mentioned, everyone pretends as if there isn’t one giant ass elephant in the room. It makes him sick. Furious. 

Changbin is suddenly awoken from his racing thoughts when his shoulder slams into the body of another walking pedestrian. He reels around and regards the hooded stranger with a deep growl, “Watch where you’re fucking going, asshole! Unless you want me to break your fucking arm!” 

“That won’t be necessary.” Changbin watches, unamused, as the stranger removes his jacket hood. His face is familiar, he realizes. Changbin feels his anger grow tenfold. 

He pulls back his own tattered hood with another growl, “You better have a good fucking reason to be lurking in our territory, witch.” 

“I came to talk to you.” The witch remains unphased by the wolf’s aggression, even when the latter stalks closer and closer to his lean form. “I think you’ll like what I have to say.” 

“Oh yeah?” Although the male is slightly taller than him, Changbin doesn’t hesitate to get up in his face. “And what makes you think that?” 

The witch doesn’t pull away, but merely shrugs. “Because we both want the same thing… Revenge.” 

Changbin’s ears perk at that single word. His ferocity falters, prompting him to create distance between his and his companion’s bodies. After tucking his hands back inside his pockets, he doesn’t say a word, but nods for the former to continue. 

The witch smirks.

“What would you say if there was a possibility to destroy the Prime Two?”  

“I’d say you’re crazy.” The wolf bites his lips, “...but I’d also say I’m the slightest bit interested.” 

“And if I told you there was also a possibility of hurting Mark Tuan in the process?” 

This time, a mirroring smirk pulls along Changbin’s lips. 

“I’d say I’m in.” 

 ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

“Are you sure I don’t need to come over there?” 

Youngjae rolls his eyes at Mark’s concerned tone, adjusting the phone on his shoulder to better his grip on the thick grimoire in his hands. “No, hyung. Jisung and Lia left hours ago, so it’s just me.” 

“I can help you out.” 

“I really don’t think I need your help for a plant revival spell.” He glances toward the array of wilting flowers and herbs, before releasing a chuckle into the phone. “Seriously, hyung. Take the time to rest… You had a long day yesterday.” 

He can almost see Mark shaking his head over the line. “Trust me, I’m very well-rested. I slept close to sixteen hours last night.” 

“Then sleep another sixteen. Satan knows you need it.” 

Youngjae sets the grimoire down on the countertop beside a yellowing, potted basil. He lays his hand over the ancient book, feeling the electric rush of magic entering his body through his palm. Once he gathers a satisfactory amount, he removes his hand and instead points toward the dying plant. 

“I just… hate not being productive, you know?”

Youngjae watches the leaves of the basil gradually lighten and shift from rotted to fresh, finally answering when the plant stands tall, proud and very, very green: 

“You need to give yourself time, Mark-hyung. That’s the most productive thing you can do right now.” 

“I… I guess you’re right.” Mark sighs, and even through the phone, Youngjae can pinpoint his friend’s exhaustion. He hums in response and turns to revive a drooping sunflower, making note to move the plant to a perch where it can reach the sunlight. 

“By the way, have you heard from (Y/N)?” 

“No. Not since last night.” Youngjae answers. 

“I texted her this morning and this afternoon, but she hasn’t texted me back.” The siphoner doesn’t respond, focusing on ripening the cherries of the sick miniature fruit tree. “Jihyo apparently left town last night… You don’t think that’s something to be concerned about, right?” 

Youngjae shakes his head. “She was probably spooked by an ex-boyfriend or something. And I’m sure (Y/N) is busy at the university. You know how hard she works.” 

“Yeah, I know. I just wish she would at least text me back.” 

“She probably needs time to process too, hyung.” He reasons with the head witch, glancing toward the front of the mausoleum when the knock sounds from the door. “I gotta go, but I’ll let you know if I hear anything.” 

Mark hums in agreement. “Thanks, Youngjae.” 

“Mhm. Get some more sleep.” Knowing Mark would retaliate with his command, Youngjae hangs up the phone before he can respond. The siphoner mumbles a quick illusion spell to hide any evidence of witchcraft to the mortal eye, then heads toward the front door, unsure of who would be visiting the mausoleum this late in the evening.

Who Youngjae certainly doesn’t expect to see behind the door is you, standing outside with a large mass of books cradled within your arms. 

Youngjae’s eyes widen when he notices one of the titles of the books, as well as the flames of determination burning inside your eyes. He parts his lips to inquire further, but you beat him to it… and your words nearly knock all the air from his lungs: 

“I need your help to bring Jackson Wang back from the dead.” 

#got7 #got7 fanfic #got7 fic #got7 imagines #got7 x reader #got7 angst #got7 fluff #got7 smut #got7 au #im jaebeom #im jaebeom x reader #im jaebeom fic #mark tuan #mark tuan x reader #mark tuan fic #jackson wang #jackson wang x reader #jackson wang fic #park jinyoung #park jinyoung x reader #park jinyoung fic #kpop fanfic #kpop au

[biopsychs]

hi! would you be able to post some of the advice you learned regarding literature reviews (and searching for papers) when you get a chance? thank you so much!

Yes, definitely! I'll mostly provide links to other resources - I've found that a big part of learning how to do lit reviews is knowing that certain things exist and then figuring out how to do those things when you need them. If anyone else wants to add info or clarifications to this post, please feel free to do so!

First of all, I'd recommend using a citation manager to keep track of papers. I use Mendeley, but I've heard Zotero is good too. From what I understand, unless you're looking for a citation manager with specific features (could be worth googling which one is best suited to your discipline), the best one to use is the one you are comfortable using/are already using.

Mendeley has guides here on how to use their program.

I added the Google Chrome browser extension so I can save papers to folders as I'm searching. Mendeley is free, you can save papers and references to specific folders, change the citation style (always double-check tho b/c it pulls whatever info it can find), and I can log into my account on other computers. When you do save papers, I always like to check that the citations are formatted properly with all the correct info, otherwise, I find myself going back later to find a piece of info that was missed which can take up a lot of time when you have many references. As well, you can highlight text and add comments to pdfs in Mendeley which is super useful!

Here are some good resources below for conducting literature reviews:

Academic Phrasebank (University of Manchester) Super helpful during the writing phase of your lit review.

Boolean Operators and Nesting (Library of Congress) 

Graduate Writing Workshops: Literature Review (Purdue Online Writing Lab)

Literature Reviews: Getting Started (University of British Columbia) 

Systematic Literature Reviews (University of British Columbia) I haven't done a systematic literature review yet, but it does differ from a typical lit review and you'll really need to know what you're doing before you start. 

Ten Simple Rules for Writing a Literature Review (PLoS) 

The Literature Review: A few tips on conducting it (University of Toronto Writing Centre)

Writing a Literature Review (Queensland University of Technology)

I'll add a few specific things I learned that have made my life easier. I'd recommend checking out the resources I mentioned for specific instructions on how to do these things.

Learn how to use Boolean operators. I knew how to use AND and OR in my searches but there's so much more you can do (I’m still learning so I’m not going to elaborate too much on this, but there are some really good resources out there).

If you use any of the EBSCO databases (I usually use PsycInfo for example), there's a thesaurus of terms for each database (check at the top of the page). This makes it so much easier to see exactly how things are categorized in the database.

If you find a good/relevant paper, check out the studies they cited and who cited their paper. I find using Google Scholar, searching for the paper, and then clicking "cited by" to be the easiest way to do this. This is especially useful if you're trying to identify a knowledge gap.

Make an Excel spreadsheet to keep track of papers (do this as you go). I always have columns for the title, authors, year, and abstract (makes it easier to find the paper you're looking for later). Beyond this, it depends on how detailed you want to be. You could have just one column where you type out a few notes about each study. Alternatively, you could have columns for things such as population studied, experimental design, specific methods/techniques, if they included specific variables, a summary of the main results, etc. This really depends on the focus of your lit review, but it’s always better to include more info than you need rather than adding info later.

It’s also useful to keep track of which search terms you’re using. If you go back to searching for papers another day, you might forget exactly what you searched for already. You can include the search terms in your spreadsheet or just create a separate document.

It takes practice to figure out the right search terms/keywords. You don't want to go too narrow, but searching broadly may yield way more results than you need (or might be irrelevant). It can be helpful to talk to someone else in your lab/field about what keywords to use in your search.

#i hope this was helpful!! #i'm still learning myself #asks #answered

[theo-sev]

Here's something I'm really curious about - how do you tackle research? You've got a very specific knowledge set that not a lot of fanfic authors do, especially in regards to Leverage style plots, and I'm curious how you approach researching things you don't understand, whether that be actual plot things or how to do something or even just How to Write.

Oooooh I have a couple of different ways I research, depending on what I need information on:

I need to know about how tech works so I ask Ben. That’s literally it. I tell him my narrative problem and he tells me how tech can work to fix it. Sometimes I know the question I need to ask (can xx do yy?), and sometimes I just know that tech could be a solution and he listens to the problem and gives me ideas that would fit there. He’s a smart cookie.

I need a specific piece of info so I goooooooogle away. I save helpful tabs, like all the sunrise/ sunset times for different times of year in Portland xD And other totally important stuff like that.

I need inspiration so I mainly start with images. Eliot’s cooking? I google a food and then look at pictures until I see something that fits the situation. Sometimes I click links in links in links until I find something that gives me the inspiration I didn’t know I needed. Sometimes I fix a rule, like ‘this is the date’ and then I look for local events that meet that date until I find The Thing I’m looking for. I find narrowing the field even arbitrarily like that can help! (Incidentally, google searches like this are why google thinks I’m a chef who brews my own beer).

For industry stuff I go to work. No but seriously. I have a couple of ideas for Financial Services cases that wouldn’t quite work in real life but would be totally workable for Leverage fics. Mostly these are just pieced together from where I can see places that senior leadership could exploit if they were left to make decisions unchecked (SOX/ PCAOB makes material frauds a lot lot harder for publically owned comanies in the US, so I have to work on the assumption that they are badly implemented for most of these cases to work)...

... I also have experience in a lot of different businesses of different sizes and in different industries back from my days working in Hell (aka doing external statutory audits) so I can draw on that too. And I’m sure I will. I have a lot of Leverage ideas! (And @ anyone reading this, if you have questions about how businesses operate (financials, external reporting requirements, operational stuff...), I can probably help!)

I need specific but totally random information so I google something ridiculously open like ‘what’s it like to grow up in OK’ and Google throws back precisely zero useful results so I close the tab and tell myself I’ll worry about that later. Then usually I find answers at totally random times, just because I’m more open to them.

I need to know how to write so I hope you are online and then I ask for help, and because you are very lovely and a great friend, you give me great recommendations and remind me that it’s probably not as bad as I think it is!

That’s all I can think of for now. I honestly have no idea if this is interesting but I hope it is? Thanks for asking :)

There’s also an E rated version of this post where I talk about how I research for smut too lol.

#asks #lacependragon #seriously i had to cut down some of my ramblings about SoX why am i so boring xD #hah

[shreddedparchment]

A World of Our Own Pt.03

A Streak of Blood

08/12/2019

Pairing: Bucky x Reader          Word Count: 5,863

Masterpost     Warnings: blood, gashes, wounds, slight angst, Bucky in boxers

Prompt: Castaway AU

A/N: I really don’t know how long I’m going to make this story. I kinda just wanna keep exploring it so please bear with me. I’m really enjoying this version of Bucky and I’m super intrigued by this helpless reader whose personality is less apologetic about it. She knows she’s a struggle but she owns it, I think. I hope you’re liking it. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

Bucky sits with his back to you, back all taut and tense. His muscles tied up in nervous knots.

You’ve been staring at him for almost half an hour, saying nothing.

He plays back your reaction again. The immediate reaction because technically this thing you’re doing, sitting there, staring at him is still part of your reaction.

He’s finally told you the truth. After three months of learning to live with you, actually not minding it at all. He��d become accustomed to your voice in his ear, your warm usually sticky—with sweat—body pressed against him in the confines of the fuselage.

Your breath tickling either his neck or collarbone, or his back when you spooned up behind him.

Throughout the day, he'd made sure to only touch you when it was appropriate or what he likes to think of as relevant to the situation. But at night…when the two of you play the day over and wonder together, usually in absolute silence, whether you’ll be stuck on this island forever…he understands the need to feel him.

He’s needed to feel you too. You’re proof that the world exists beyond the shallow shores of the island.

So, at bedtime, when the jungle wakes up and the two of you settle in to sleep, he didn’t pull back when you'd grabbed his metal wrist.

You'd lifted his arm up and over your head as you slid into the crook between his arm and his side, pulling his arm around your shoulders as you let go and wrapped yours around his stomach.

At first he'd laid there, tense like he is now. Uncomfortable with the intimacy of your touch.

Then the next night it had felt less strange. Night after night you grabbed his metal wrist—he's still kind if…not surprised but something close to it, taken aback a bit but also touched that you don’t seem to fear his arm or pay it much mind. To you it seems to he just that, his arm—and wrapped it around your soft humid body until finally, around a month after you’d started doing it, he would open it for you.

He offered you the space against his side willingly. Almost looking forward to the skin to skin contact. He finds himself, even now, missing it.

He doesn’t really think it’s anything romantic.

Okay, yes, fuck—sometimes he watches you swim or work gathering coconuts or fruit and he stares at the expose plush flesh of your thighs or the curve of your back to your bottom.

He's only a man after all. Human.

He looks. Often. But he doesn’t touch.

However the urge to touch you is deeper than lust or like or love. It’s human and he almost needs the contact and conversation to function.

Which is strange because he’s been alone for a long time before. He’d craved the solitude.

With you…knowing you’re close by. He needs you. After three months of enjoying the ways you need him. He realizes right now, as you sit behind him, staring that he needs you.

He hopes that confessing the truth hasn’t driven you away. What would he do?

“Listen…” He finally says, voice low and gravelly. He clears it, shoving his nerves down. “…if you hate me now, I get it. If I hadn’t been on your flight you probably would have made it back to the States with no problem and you’d be home, safe. So, hate me.”

He thinks quickly, what can he offer you?

“I'll finish the hut and you can stay here on the beach. I’ll got to the fuselage but…can-" He hesitates. “Can I still come and eat meals with you? I won’t talk to you. I’ll just eat and go. And I’ll keep lighting the beach fire so you don’t have to.”

That’s not too much to ask, is it?

He feels off. Exposed. Vulnerable. He doesn’t like it.

He scowls, his brow dark, his eyes glaring at the muck of clay he’s almost got to the right viscosity.

“Or…never mind.” He nearly growls. “Forget-"

He feels soft burning fingers slide across the back of his bare shoulders.

He turns, almost desperately happy at your touch but he also doesn’t know what it means. He keeps his face stoic, despite the elation he’s feeling.

You squat down next to him, the rays of the sun shining down directly over the two of you. Here in the shade of the palms, the light flickers across your dewy skin making it look like it’s glowing.

Sparkling fish scales across your soft sweaty skin. You’re wearing your dress again. The one he’d torn and it rides up along your thighs. He wants to look—damn it, he’s having a guy moment because thinking about you pushing him away is making him want to appreciate your presence all the more violently—but he also can’t bear to turn away from your stern face.

“Bucky…” You begin, breath taken in and held as your pretty lips part.

Fuck. Bucky. Get it together.

“Yeah?” His own stoic gaze betrays nothing.

He knows how to keep himself closed off. How to pretend. Like a pro. Thanks, Hydra.

“S-Start from the beginning.” Your stutter is not from fear but uncertainty. Confusion. “Why have you killed a lot of people and who would be pissed enough to want to blow you to pieces?”

“Y/N,” Bucky looks back at his clay coated hands and tilts his head, shaking it slightly as he thinks about his story.

He’s never had to tell it before. Steve and Sam had known. The rest of the team either didn’t care or spent their time away and didn’t need to know.

“It kind of a long story. It could take forever.” An exaggeration but it’s his life. It feels like he’s lived it for ages. In a way, he has.

“Bucky,” You gasp a chuckle, your hand dropping from his back as you settle down on your bottom, straight on the heated sand and dirt. “We’re on a deserted probably uncharted island, with no sign of upcoming rescue. We’ve got time.”

Bucky turns his steel blue gaze back to you, searching your face for a hint as to whether you’re leaning more towards hating him or not but like him, you’re stoic.

“Right…” He inhales long and slow, then releases the breath as he begins to knead again. “Well, if I’m gonna start from the beginning, then I should probably start with when I was born.”

You frown. “What? Why does that matter?”

He can see in your expression that you think he’s being melodramatic.

He licks his lips, avoiding your gaze as he shrugs his right shoulder. “Because…I was born in 1917 so by record I'm one-O-six but because of the Snap…”

“You’re a hundred and two years old?!” Your voice squeaks as you slowly stand, staring down at him as he looks right back up at you and he suddenly realizes you too went through the Snap.

Had you survived or had you returned in the Blip too? He’s so fucking curious now but…you want to know about him. He'll have to be patient.

“How the fuck?!” You nearly screech in shock.

Bucky winces.

Bucky’s layering the crevices of the hut’s foundation with clay. Using his fingers then running the clay down through the long strips of bending bamboo with a new makeshift metal trowel.

This one is flatter, specifically made to spread the clay flat, like jam on toast.

He takes a handful of clay, smears it against the floor in a long slow line so that he can fill as much of it with clay as possible. He wipes the excess off on a piece of the torn-up suit he’d found in that one carry-on, stuffed into the waistband of his boxers, before flattening the trowel against the long lumpy line to smoosh it down into the split between the bamboo logs.

He twists around, scooping more clay into his hand out of the metal bucket he’d made when they’d first landed on the island, and turns to smear it along the next crevice only to find you laying on your stomach, feet swinging casually back and forth, crossed at the ankles. You’ve got your arms on the floor in a bow shape, one hand on top of the other and your chin resting gently on both of them.

He jumps, gasping quietly, not having heard you shift into place.

“Jesus…”

“When did you fall from the train?” You ask him, your eyes all pure and innocent, unaware of the scare you just gave him.

“Ffff…” He has to stop himself from swearing because you’re looking at him, eager for info. The twinkle in your eye is confusing.

What does it mean? Curiosity is what it reminds him off but what kind? He’s not sure whether you believe him completely yet about how he’d come to be Bucky Barnes again. Ex-Winter Soldier. Avenger.

Or, he would have been an Avenger had he gotten back to New York.

“Nineteen forty-five.” He says, voice cracking a little in his low tone as his heart evens out.

You’re surprisingly quiet. Like a cat. Scary.

A word that Bucky had never thought he’d think about you but ever since you sat behind him on the beach, staring daggers until you’d finally gotten up and asked him to tell you his story, he’s seen you with new eyes.

Wary eyes.

He’s lowered his guard around you so much since landing on this stupid island. He forgot what it felt like to be this accessible. When had the last time been? With Steve?

You narrow your eyes. Brow knit together as you roll your lips in to clench them shut as you think. He can see you thinking a million things. Or maybe just one.

I can’t trust that guy. Maybe? Bucky hates feeling like this. He hates not knowing.

He doesn’t like guessing.

Why can’t he just know?

“Okay.” You suddenly say, then get back up and head down the ramp he’d built, towards the large signal fire to start putting fresh dried fronds so that it’ll be easier to light when the sun starts to set.

This isn’t the last time that this happens.

As he’s walking back towards the hut, carrying two bionically crafted metal buckets full of water, you pop out from behind a tree, swinging around it like you’re lost in thought but your eyes meet his.

“Shhh…” Bucky begins but manages to stop himself again.

His heart races, water sloshing as his feet stutter to a stop. Watching you hold onto the palm with your right hand as you stare at him inquisitively, pensive. Concentrating.

“Y/N, I really need you to stop doing that.” He tells you sternly, face kept as stoic as possible so that you won’t notice his surprise.

How the hell are you sneaking up on him?

“Why didn’t you remember Steve?” You wonder, that brow of yours furrowed again as you wait for his answer.

“I…” He hesitates, thinking back to the moment he’d seen Steve on the streets in Washington.

It’s like a blurry watercolor. He remembers it vaguely now. That part of his brain so addled that he has to focus to remember the rocked expression on Steve’s face.

“Bucky?” Steve had gasped, completely nonplussed by the sight of his formerly thought deceased best friend. For some reason, Bucky remembers a smudge of gunpowder and soot from explosions on his cheek, and a soft dusting of it on the left side of his neck.

“Who the hell is Bucky?” Bucky had asked.

He shuts his eyes for a second, trying to retain the memory. Clinging to the small details like the smudge to draw out the bigger picture.

“I was brainwashed, and Hydra had wiped my mind.” Bucky explains, opening his eyes to look at you, only to find you standing closer with your hands behind your back.

You’re staring up at him with those focused eyes. Unrelenting in their indiscernible sparkle. What is that?

“Why would they do that?” You wonder, voice sharp with annoyance.

“I guess it made it easier to control me. Nothing to hold me back, no personal attachments, no weaknesses.”

“Hm.” You hum, then turn and head back towards the beach leaving him itching to know your own thoughts.

*****

He’s walking back to the hut, munching on a banana, mouth full. His cheeks are completely stuffed. He turns to move around the large slate gray boulder, eroded along the bottom when the tide comes in, but you spring out from the other side so suddenly that he drops his banana and sputters around the white mush in his mouth.

He’s coughing, bits of banana flying out of his mouth as he places his metal hand on the boulder and hunches over, choking.

He can already see you talking but he can’t hear you over himself.

You don’t even flinch as a sticky bit of banana covered in his spit flies at you and lands on your cheek.

He gasps, flesh hand on his chest, struggling to move past the constriction of his throat.

“You okay?” You ask, brow furrowed in what looks like annoyance but also a small bit of concern.

“Eeehyeah.” He squeaks. “What were you saying?”

“You were captured in World War II?”

Bucky stares at you, his eyes trained on that muck of his banana on your cheek. He hesitates but then reaches out—and he fully expects you to cringe, pull away from him—cups the left side of your face and with his thumb quickly wipes it away.

“Er…yeah.”

“And Captain America—Steve?” Bucky nods at you. “Steve saved you?”

“Yes.” He replies with trepidation, embarrassed about spitting on you but also nervous about your question.

“Hmmm.” You reply. “Okay.”

You turn and leave him, staring down in slight depression over his now sand covered banana.

*****

All day you continue to jump out from hidden spots or from behind trees or suddenly poking your head over the hut’s foundation when he’s just reached the edge and scaring the shit out of him. Spouting off various questions about his story.

Nothing about just one particular thing. They’re all random so he can’t even decipher what’s got you so preoccupied. You ask about how he killed people, how many at a time, to whether he remembered how it felt to be taken over and whether he’d ever attempted to fight it.

You even asked him what his favorite place to have visited had been to date. Of course, Wakanda was at the top of that list.

“Nothing from when you were the Winter Soldier?”

Bucky had just shaken his head. He remembers the blood not the setting. The kill, not the people. When he’d explained that to you, you’d answered with another, “Oh. Okay.” And wandered off.

He tilts his head back, playing the day over and trying to decide whether this reaction of yours is good or bad. He honestly doesn’t know. He can’t tell. He’s completely baffled by you and he doesn’t think there’s going to be any resolution to his dilemma.

The water in the stream is cool and feels like bliss against his skin. Taking a bath right now had been a good choice. He’s been working hard all day and even though he can take the workload, he’s exhausted again.

Physically exhausted. A nice change of pace for his usual dire emotional state.

Tomorrow, he’ll start on the walls. Four of them. He’s not sure they need more than one room. They’ve already had to change in front of each other. He’s seen your body.

Quick nervous glances stolen at you to see if you were finished dressing or undressing over the past three months. Bucky knows the silhouette of your naked body by heart.

He licks his lips absentmindedly as he thinks about your figure this morning, no pants on, just your t-shirt. Standing on the beach in the glaring sunlight making your form black in shadow. He can’t see anything about it only the outline of it. Then you pull off your shirt and turn to toss it aside, twisting your body towards him to do so, exposing the hard, pebbled tips of your breasts.

What the hell are you thinking about, Bucky? He chastises himself, cheeks flaming underneath his beard.

He’d only seen the outline but damn if he doesn’t know what they look like. He’d gotten a good view that day you’d been upset about his admission to the unlikelihood of your rescue.

He climbs out of the tub, closes his eyes, pulling his pants on and then his shirt over his head as he stands there still slightly damp from his bath. He wills himself to stop thinking about your beautiful body.

It’s difficult. Three months on this island with you. Holding you when you sleep. Watching you during the day to make sure you’re safe. Listening to your lame jokes. Hearing you laugh and giggle and whine and cry. You’re all that Bucky already thinks about. That and rescue but you’re the most prominent.

Wanting you…sexually…Bucky wasn’t expecting that. He doesn’t let himself think about it because it can’t happen. It won’t.

Just because you’re the only woman on this island with him doesn’t mean that you’ll sleep with him. Besides, it’s been so long since he’s been with anyone like that, Bucky wouldn’t know what to do with himself if he got you in that position.

Or any position. He thinks salaciously.

He growls. Hating the images that flash through his head because he won’t ever get to make them so why think about them?

Maybe two rooms would be best? Five walls. After what he’s told you, maybe you don’t want to see him.

Making a sharp turn on the balls of his feet, he makes to head back to the fuselage only to have you crash against his chest.

“Damn it!” He nearly shouts.

Your hands push him back slowly as his heart races in surprise again.

“Why do you keep doing that?!” He demands.

“You killed all those people because they made you do it, right? Hydra?” You ask, face tired, eyes softer but that sparkle still shines through.

Why do they look like that? What does it mean? Bucky’s so tired of you doing this to him.

“Yes.” He shoves past you, irritated beyond words at this seemingly endless barrage of questions. “This is getting really annoying, so what else do you wanna know? Get it all out. Let’s get this over with.”

He can hear you trying to keep pace with his long gait and he almost feels bad but he’s too upset. If you’re going to tell him you can’t be around him, he wishes you’d just do it quickly. All at once. What’s the point of asking him all these questions when it seems you’ve already made up your mind?

You haven’t talked to him once, except to ask him these random questions. You haven’t touched him all day, except for right now to push him away.

He’s already missing the way your body feels pressed against his side. The comfort that he hadn’t known he would need, lost to him because he couldn’t just keep it to himself that he was a former assassin.

“How did you get better?” You ask, breathless.

“The King of Wakanda and his sister helped me get the programming out.” He explains shortly.

“Why did they sever your arm?”

“It was already mangled up, they just cut off more.” Now she’s asking about his arm? Does she hate that too?

“Do you remember them? The people you killed?”

Here Bucky actually hesitates. He’d once told someone that he remembers every single one, but he doesn’t remember them all. Not really. He remembers the blood. The pleas for help. The satisfaction as the mission was over. Then the cold of his slumber.

Only a few faces stick out to him. The important ones. The ones that he can never forgive himself for. They were all unforgivable but some…some he could never make up for. It was too late.

He’d lost his chance. He can never tell him that he’s sorry now. That if he could take it back, he would. That he hadn’t meant to ruin his life. That if he wanted revenge, he understood and this time, Steve can’t stand in the way.

“Yes.” Bucky answers, because he can remember them. Just not their faces. Or their names. It wasn’t really a lie what he’d said. In his heart, they’re all there. Reminding him of the choices he never had a chance to make.

“Are you completely better?”

Bucky rounds on you, his heart aching painfully at this question with its implication that he might hurt you. The idea that he could be the source of danger on the island for you. How dare you!

After he’d done nothing but be there for you. Keep you safe. Feed you. Build you shelter. He’d helped you.

“I don’t know!” He shouts. “No. Yes, I could kill you. I could wake up strangling you. What’s the point of asking me all these questions, Y/N? You already know what you wanna do, so just do it and save us both the time.

“I’ll get my stuff and sleep outside. Give you your space. When I finish the hut, I’ll move you in over there and come back here.” He promises, then turns to head into the circle of flickering orange light of the camp by the fuselage.

He makes a mental note. Four walls.

A soft warm hand closes around his metal wrist and he stops, turning to see you looking up at him.

*****

You tighten your hand around his wrist, a terrible fear building inside of your chest.

You. Alone. Until the end of your days on the island.

“Please don’t leave me.” You beg, taking your other hand and wrapping that one around his metal wrist too.

All day you’ve thought about what he says they did to him and what he did, and you’ve tried to be scared of him but…it’s Bucky!

You shrug.

Bucky who sprung into action when you first crash landed on this stupid island and kept you safe during a hurricane. Bucky who carved and flattened out a path for you and made you a tub and taught you to fish with a spear and tried to think of every possible way to get you off the island even going so far as to send out something as silly as a message in a bottle.

Bucky who is building you a hut on the beach. Bucky who laughs at your lame jokes—"What’s black and white, and red all over? A penguin with a sunburn."—and doesn’t shame you after you’ve thrown a tantrum because you’re so tired of mangoes and bananas and those oranges that sometimes taste like limes that you’re pretty sure aren’t oranges but neither of you knows what they are.

He doesn’t judge you when you cry into his chest at night when you wake up and look around after dreaming you’re back home only to find that you’re still on the island.

Bucky your savior.

“I-I know that you think what you did was bad, and it is…killing people is bad but Bucky…you’re-" You take a shaky breath and step closer, sliding your hand down and intertwining your fingers with his.

His hand responds eagerly, wrapping your smaller hand up and squeezing it with just enough pressure. It’s just the two of you here. This is the truth that never leaves your mind. He’s all you have. And even if there were eighty other people on this island, you’re staring to realize that Bucky is all you’d want either way.

“-you're my hero, Bucky. You saved me. Over and over again. I would be dead by now if you hadn’t been here with me. I would have died that first night.”

He parts those pretty, pouty pink lips. He still looks so absolutely healthy thanks to what you now know is those experiments that they ran on him back when he’d been capture in World War II.

His body is slightly browner. A golden tan compared to the pale peach he'd been when the two of you had found yourselves stranded but it fits him well.

When he blushes, it nearly kills you, his steel blue eyes dazzle you on a daily basis.

No. You can’t live without Bucky. On the island? You’d die. If you ever get rescued…you just might beg him to let you follow him around because you’re almost certain that what you’re feeling…

No. This is about the island. Don’t, Y/N. Don’t think it.

“Stay with me. I don’t care what you did. All I know is what you’ve shown me and you’re my only hope. I need you.” You confess, which is not what you know you feel but close enough without the selfish demands that what you really feel would put on him. “I want you here. Stay with me.”

You watch Bucky’s upset face jump from relieved to shocked to touched, back to confused which is how he’s been looking at you all day, and then finally as you tell him you need him, he softens.

This is Bucky as you like him best. That sweet look in his eyes, those healthy lips curved up into a soft smile.

He tightens his hand around yours, flexing his wrist to pull you even closer.

It takes your breath away as you’re suddenly standing inches from his chest, but he releases your hand and wraps his arms around you, pulling you to him.

Impossible flutters fill your stomach, warmth engulfs your heart.

“Of course, I’ll stay with you.” He promises to your heart’s great relief. “Of course.”

You smile into his shoulder and inhale that earthy and spicy musk of his. Damp sliced oak with a unique and exotic tang that fills your body with the promise of its burn.

You wrap your arms around him, eager to go to bed so that you can lay in his without excuse.

It’s how the two of you sleep now and you need it like you need fresh water.

He holds you for probably too long, but you don’t care.

When he finally releases you, the two of you make your way back towards the fuselage, hands now resolutely kept to yourselves.

You cook the fish that you’d caught earlier in the afternoon, and the two of you eat in giddy silence.

When bedtime finally rolls around, Bucky lays himself down first. As always, he lays against the wall of the fuselage, one hand underneath the almost flattened travel pillows that the two of you had salvaged from the plane crash. The other hand rests on his thigh.

He’s gone ahead and pulled his shirt and pants off leaving him in his boxers. It’s too hot in the fuselage for lots of clothes. You quickly peel off your own pants but keep the sleeveless shirt that you’d cut from an old t-shirt on, then settle in beside him.

You lay on your back at first and stare up at the sky through the fuselage window. The sky is glittering with stars. You turn to look at Bucky after a few minutes, staring up at his sleeping face for a few seconds before turning back to the stars.

Usually you take his metal arm and wrap it around you but that’s when he sleeps on his back. He’s never slept on his side like this before. Not at first.

You’re not sure how to prompt his arms around you. You need him to hold you. Assassin or not, he’s going to be an Avenger. Or already is? Or working for them? Either way, he’s good. Of that you’re absolutely sure.

You’d known it before he’d made his confession.

“Bucky?” You whisper, afraid of waking him because he’s been working so hard today.

“Mm?” He asks, maybe not as asleep as you thought?

“We do need to talk about what happened on the plane at some point though.” You begin. “The bomb? And the fact that it was only us?”

“Mm.” He agrees, jaw growing more and more slack.

“Bucky?”

“What?” He asks, slowly, a slight hint of frustration in his tone.

He’s sleepy…but you can’t help it! You haven’t talked to him all day. You’d had other stuff on your mind before his admittance to his perceived responsibility in the crashing of the plane.

“Do-Do you want me to help you trim your beard? It’s getting long.” You reach up without thinking and stroke the left side of his face with your right hand.

You touch only beard but there’s a small inhale from Bucky anyway.

“Tomorrow.” He replies, slightly less annoyed. “Go to sleep.”

You take your hand back and turn to stare out at the sky again. For five minutes you lay in absolute silence, itching to ask him a million other things about the hut and what he’s planning on adding to it or if there will be two rooms—please don’t let there be two rooms—or if it’ll be just like here in the fuselage but with more space?

You wanna know if he liked the fish or if he’d prefer if you cooked it differently. Should you just keep working on the thatch for the roof or does he want you to help with the clay too? Is there anything else you can build or help make? You’re not that handy but you can learn fairly quickly.

If he’s willing to teach you, you can pick anything up. You just need to focus.

“Bucky?”

“Ugh! Y/N, go to sleep. I’m tired.” He begs, this time clearly annoyed.

“Sorry.” You sigh, turning onto your own left so that you won’t be tempted to talk again.

You shut your eyes, squeeze them tight and remind yourself that he did promise to stay with you.

He might find you annoying but at least he’s willing to stay with you. Put up with you and all the shit you must put him through.

With a shaking sigh, you will your body to relax and sleep.

“Why do you have to ask so many questions?” Bucky asks, wrapping his right arm around your stomach.

He pulls you back towards him, tucking you against his chest and nuzzles his nose into your hair on the back of your head.

His voice is so low, so deep, your stomach flips several times in nervous flutters.

“I’m sorry.” You repeat, whispering because he’s so quiet.

He suddenly knees your legs, pushing them up until you’ve got them folded, curling in against your body.

He pulls you closer, wrapping you up in both arms like a small ball, shaping his body to yours as he inhales deeply, then exhales slowly.

“Tomorrow, you can ask me whatever you want.” He promises, and for a split second, you think you feel the soft press of two plush lips against the nape of your neck.

Your heart goes into arrest as you try and figure out if that really happened. Did Bucky kiss you? Or maybe it just felt like it because he’s holding you so close?

“Sleep.” He orders.

You shut your eyes, and dream about whether Bucky had indeed kissed you or if it was only wishful thinking.

There’s a loud clatter. The sound of foliage being trampled.

Everything happens so quickly that it all happens both in perfect clarity and in a blur.

Bucky springs from around you, running towards the entrance of the fuselage, grabbing the spear by the entrance.

The sharpened metal from the plane glints in the dying embers of the fire as Bucky plants himself in front of the fuselage entrance protectively.

“Bucky?” You squeak, terrified.

“Stay inside.” Bucky orders and the next second you hear a loud keening cry.

It’s beastly but high pitched and it curls your bones into shards as fear makes your heart pound.

You hear other shouts. A man.

“Help!” He cries, loudly and you recognize the voice from the announcements before the plane had taken off after you’d just boarded instantly.

“Bucky!” You gasp, “The other pilot!”

“Stay here!” He calls to you as he takes off at a run.

He doesn’t get far as the pilot comes barreling through the trees, blonde hair disheveled and covered in muck. His pilot’s uniform is torn around the knees and ankles, his shirt sleeves ripped off. He’s dirty and beaten.

He doesn’t look nearly as good as you and Bucky do.

“What is it?” Bucky demands as the pilot turns and scrambles back away from the trees he’d just come from.

He’s headed right for the fuselage entrance and you’re already waiting at the edge.

“Are you okay?” You ask him, as he crosses into the shelter.

“What is it?” Bucky demands from him, but his question is answered just as he gets back to his feet.

That same wild, keening cry pierces the night, closer and louder. He’s suddenly thrown off of his feet, calling out in pain as he falls to the ground.

“Bucky!” You cry, terrified for him, because he has to be safe. Always.

He gets back up and as he turns around to face what knocked him over, your eyes find the frenzied eyes of a boar, large goring tusks stained red with blood.

You wheel back to the pilot who is shaking beside you in terror, but all of his clothes is dry. No red spots.

Bucky.

Courage floods you and you hurry to go to him, but he shouts at you.

“Stay back!”

You freeze as the boar comes barreling towards Bucky again.

This time he’s ready for it. He dives for one of the makeshift ropes you’d made from the various fabrics and palm fronds you’d been tearing apart and catches the boar around the back two hooves.

He dives on top of it, breaks his spear head off and then glides the glinting metal across the boar’s throat.

Vivid red splashes along the dirt as the animal’s cry is cut short. Bucky slides off it’s back and lays beside it, breathing heavily with the effort it took to hold it down.

You race to his side, heart thrumming wildly in your chest as your hands ceaselessly slide from his shoulders down to his arms, chest, sides, hips, thighs, and it’s on his calves where you find the deep gashes from the boar’s skewering.

“Bucky…” You begin, worried.

“I’ll heal, kitty cat.” He assures you.

He reaches up to stroke your left cheek with his right hand, inadvertently leaving a shocking streak of red boar’s blood.

“You’re so stupid.” You nearly growl at him, angry because he’s trying to play these cuts off.

You flatten your hands against as much of them as you can and frown at him.

“I know. On the plus side, we can have some bacon in the morning.” He smiles.

“I hate you.” You spit at him.

He chuckles. “I know.”

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RECENT NEWS, RESOURCES & STUDIES, early February 2020

Welcome to my latest summary of recent ecommerce news, resources & studies including search, analytics, content marketing, social media & Etsy! This covers articles I came across since the late January report, although some may be older than that. Report is a bit short because I was sick this last week; don’t worry, I used hand sanitizer before typing this up, so you are all safe 🤒

I am currently looking into setting up a new ecommerce business forum where we can discuss this sort of news, as well as any day-to-day issues we face. I need some good suggestions for a cheap or free forum space that has some editing tools, is fairly intuitive for inexperienced members, and is accessible. If you have any suggestions, please reply to this post, email me on my website, or send me a tweet. (I will put out a survey once we narrow this down to some good candidates, but if you have any other comments on what you want from such a forum, please include those too!)

As always, if you see any stories I might be interested in, please let me know!

TOP NEWS & ARTICLES 

Searchmetrics says Etsy did quite well [podcast & text] in the Google January Core Update, while both Amazon and Walmart lost a little bit. “Who won January? I’m going to say Etsy. Etsy has really done a tremendous job [with Google visibility] over the last two years. Sure, they’ve been on the winning side of the algorithm update, but consistently, being in that a position, from my experience, isn’t by chance.” Here’s more analysis listing the US winners and losers, including by subject category (sadly, not shopping sites). Marie Haynes says that the update likely targeted sites that aren’t properly disclosing affiliate links, as well as some pet health sites. 

Since a quarter of Americans have a disability, your website, your products & your marketing should be more accessible. Lots of good ideas in here! 

ETSY NEWS 

TOU alert: Etsy has banned the sale of spent bullet casings (often used as craft supplies). It’s not clear why. There is a thread from a seller whose listings were pulled here.

The 2020 wedding trends blog post is one of those pieces that is useful to sellers & buyers alike, and is also good for Etsy because it attracts outside articles and links. Some trend & keyword info of interest: ”there has been a 171% increase in searches on Etsy for bridesman items and a 72% increase in searches for best woman items”... “searches for ‘70s invitations increase 18% and searches for disco ball items increase 18%” ...”24% increase in searches for bridal jackets and a 4% increase in searches for women’s pantsuits” …”searches for reused, recycled, or reclaimed wedding items increasing 7%” in the last six months (compared to the same time the previous year).

Etsy released its annual diversity & inclusion report on January 29, getting some media coverage along the way, for example here, here and here.

Reverb hired David Mandelbrot as their new CEO; he most recently ran Indiegogo. (Etsy bought Reverb last year.)

The 4th quarter 2019 results will be out Feb. 26. I am currently planning on doing my usual summary thread in the forum. 

Decent overview of product photography for beginners, with some pointers on what Etsy wants you to do with photos. For example, “The recommended size for listing images is 2000px for the shortest side of the image, and a resolution of 72PPI.”

SEO: GOOGLE & OTHER SEARCH ENGINES 

So you know what Etsy tags are, but you get confused when people talk about tags for search engines? Read this beginners guide to SEO meta tags. (not needed for Etsy shops, but it is terminology used by some website builder sites, as well as coders of course.)

Data provider Jumpshot will be closing due to the controversies over the revelation that their parent company Avast (the anti-virus software) provided user activity to Jumpshot while perhaps not always fully disclosing this to the users. This will affect some SEO tools that relied on these click stats to generate estimates for traffic & search term use, Hitwise & Moz among them.  “In all likelihood, Avast took the action to protect its core business, as multiple articles, including from Consumer Reports, called out the company for its data collection practices, while some called for the uninstallation of the Avast software. This is probably as much PR damage control as it is driven by any principled position.”

Forbes appears to have been hit by some Google search issue, but it happened later than the Core Update, so no one is sure what is going on.They were previously penalized for selling links, but that was years ago.   

John Mueller listed all of the big Google search news from January in this almost 9 minute video. Click to see the detailed info under the video, because they helpfully summarized the important topics by timestamp, and linked to text resources as well. (Some of it is technical/coding relating; you have been warned!)

There may be another big Google ranking update happening right now (Feb. 9), as tracked by Search Engine Roundtable. Check that site over the next few days for any updates. 

CONTENT MARKETING & SOCIAL MEDIA (includes blogging & emails) 

The time you send your marketing emails matters, although it’s going to vary more than this article lets on. Keep track of your own stats. 

Debunking some myths about Instagram, including the importance of your follower count. “...your follower count isn’t the most important metric on Instagram. Your engagement rate is. Your engagement rate (which is found by calculating the number of engagements you receive divided by EITHER the number of people who saw it OR your total followers, depending on who you ask) is crucial.”

If you use the app Social Captain for Instagram, be aware that your Instagram password was publicly available in the source code. 

Facebook’s algorithm has a lot of different factors controlling who sees your posts, including actually having conversations with others, and including “quality, original videos.”

Facebook’s revenue was up 25% in the 4th quarter of 2019, to $21.1 billion, but they expect the privacy controversies to cut into growth this year.

Pinterest is testing an augmented reality tool called “Try On” that allows users to see what they will look like with specific lipstick colours. 

ONLINE ADVERTISING (SEARCH ENGINES, SOCIAL MEDIA, & OTHERS) 

Google Shopping Ads will soon be shown in Gmail accounts, YouTube and the Discover feed, starting March 4th. Note that “Retailers have been steadily shifty more of their search budgets from text to Shopping ads.”

A comparison of Google Ads vs. Facebook Ads, with plenty of tips. According to them, if you are seriously considering one, you should probably do both. “When we talk about Facebook, we’re also talking about Instagram, What’sApp, and Facebook Messenger. Google also includes YouTube, the second-most trafficked site in the world (behind Google itself).”

Google’s revenue was up 17% in the 4th quarter in 2019, almost all of it from advertising. YouTube makes more on ads than Amazon does. 

ECOMMERCE NEWS, IDEAS, TRENDS 

eBay released its 4th quarter results for 2019 on January 28, with revenue down 2% and gross merchandise value down 5%. Amazon’s sales were up 21% for the 4th quarter. 

BigCommerce now allows customers to check out in over 100 currencies, integrated with several different payment processors. 

Wondering what a good conversion rate would be for different ecommerce pages? Here’s a brief overview of the known stats, with some tips on improving.. (Note that any action can be counted as a conversion, including signing up for an email list, so this isn’t just about purchases.)

BUSINESS & CONSUMER STUDIES, STATS & REPORTS; SOCIOLOGY & PSYCHOLOGY, CUSTOMER SERVICE 

Are you marketing to Generation Z, or think you should be? Here are 52 facts (with the citations); some highlights: Gen Z has more members than millennials do, and “As of 2020, Gen Z makes up more than 40% of U.S. consumers.” and finally “When shopping online or in stores, 65% of Gen Z prefers to see as few items as possible out of stock” (that last one explains a feedback I received, I think LOL Kind of hard on Etsy when you might have a listing with multiple choices & you only have the one left.)

A study of Cyber Week email open & click rates shows that it might be better not to mention the holidays or discounts. 

This article warns consumers of the tricks ecommerce sites use to nudge people to buy more, including some clear examples of deception. “A study by Princeton University and the University of Chicago singled out online clothing seller Fashion Nova, which tells customers that items in their cart “are in high demand.” The problem? The message appears for any item that’s added to the cart. Fashion Nova’s cart also tells shoppers that their items are being “reserved” for 10 minutes. But nothing happens to the items after the 10 minutes are up.”

MISCELLANEOUS 

YouTube wants Clearview AI’s face recognition program to stop scraping its videos for content, and to delete anything it has already collected. (Twitter did the same last month.)

#CindyLouWho2NewsUpdates #SEO #search engine optimization #search engine marketing #EtsyNews #etsy #Social media #contentmarketing #content marketing #Ecommerce #smallbiz #SEOTips #customer service #ppc advertising #Onlinemarketing #ecommercetips #emailmarketing #socialmedianews

[skyechaser]

Silence in Atlas 4/?

This is darkest thing I've ever written. I know I say this at the start of every chapter but this time I'm really serious. If you are triggered by ANY KIND of violent event check the end of the post before reading for a more detailed warning. Things will get worse before they get better.

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

“So this is supposed to be your last day here with us, kitten” the man said, still looking her in the eyes. “I need to make sure you have no willpower left so that you will obey your new owners” Her body tensed. What was that even supposed to mean?

That was when she realized the man had something in his hands.

The pain was sharp, but not as intense as the electricity. She was used to getting hit in combat. Her aura could protect her from this. Not like with the collar. The man hit her again with the bat and she could feel the barbed wire wrapped around it scratching her skin.

“Looks like this won’t work with you” he smiled “You are pretty strong, kitten. Guess we’ll have to do this the hard way”.

Click. Click. Click. She thought she knew what pain was. She was wrong. Nothing could be called pain in comparison to what she was feeling after those three fucking clicks. The electricity was so intense she could feel the veins in her eyes breaking and her heart beating in her ears. When it stopped she could feel her aura depleting.

“Okey. Now we can play my game” the man said as he started beating her with the bat. Blake had nothing left in her. She just wanted this to be over. She could taste her own blood in her mouth as she lost count of how many times he had hit her. After a while he stopped, kicked her straight in the stomach and laugh.

“That is the new level of pain you’ll deal with from now on, okay? If you even think about attacking me, I’ll activate it. It won’t electrocute me because I have this sweet little thing” he added, pointing at a large bracelet in his left hand. “But you know what it will do to you, right?” Blake stared “I said.... You know what it will do, right?”

She nodded weakly. The man smiled.

“Don’t move. That is an order” he held her shoulders with both of his hands. They felt disgusting. He forced her into the floor, facing the ground. The shackles in her hands were trapped under her body, pressing against her stomach. “Good. Remember: don’t fucking move, bitch, or I’ll use it”.

TRIGGER WARNING BEGINS

She was petrified. Not only had that fucking collar gotten three times more painful but her entire body was aching from the beating. She had no aura left to deal with the damage. Still, she could feel when the man climbed on top of her and started fidgeting with her clothes, or what was left of them after the barbed wire. No. Please, no. Not this.

“Good kitten” he said in a raspy tone. She could hear him unbuckling his belt. No, please. Lowering his zipper. The first thing she felt was a hand on the back of her head, grabbing at her hair. Then she felt his weight on top of her. And then she felt him inside her. She wanted to die. She wanted to disappear. She wanted to be anywhere else. She thought of Yang. She had to think of Yang or she would give up. It was painful. The man groaned harder every time and Blake wished she was deaf instead of mute. She took a deep breath. Her mind took her to another place: to her room at Beacon. Those days seemed so far away now, like another life. She focused on that. On classes. On her friends. On the first rounds of the tournament. On the exams. On the teachers. On her team. On Yang. That was her safe place. Those lilac eyes were her haven and she just wanted to see them again.

Then it was over and his breath slowly went back to normal. He got up. Fixed his pants.

“That was great” he said “You didn’t move. You never thought of attacking me” he smirked. “If there aren’t many good offers tomorrow. Maybe I’ll keep you for myself, kitty”

TRIGGER WARNING ENDS

Blake just layed there. Her face devoid of any emotion, too broken and tired to express anything. Once he left, her body convulsed and she threw up. There was barely anything in her stomach but she simply couldn’t stop. When she was done she dragged herself to the other side of the room, as far as she could get without activating the sensors. Then she just layed there, on the ground, too weak to cry. How was she supposed to stay alive through this? Were they even going to find her? Blake took a deep breath. There had to be a way out of this. If she was being auctioned then they had to take her somewhere else, maybe there would be a moment in which she could escape.

She hugged herself, wishing, like every single time she tried to fall asleep in that helhole, that she was back at Yang’s side. She could remember her scent from memory and hear her voice in her mind. She tried to remember every single one of her smiles. Their hugs. Their lingering touches. Would she get a chance to kiss her? The thought of dying before ever enjoying loving her dragon send her into a borderline panic attack. It wasn’t fair. Why had this happened?

“Please find me, Yang” she mouthed silently.  

-----

“This dart is a very specific brand” the expert said. Yang smiled. This could narrow things down quite a bit. It was already day five since Blake had been taken and she didn’t know what else to do. Yang couldn’t stop thinking about what the faunus was probably going through and it made her want to cry. “It comes from a store in Altea Street called The Weaponry. Its downtown”.

“You think they keep a record of their sales?” she asked, taking back the dart from the man.

“Most weapon stores are obligated to in order to have register of every weapon in Atlas. So they should” the man replied. She thanked him and left in a hurry. There was no time to lose. She just wished she had Bumbleby. Or money to take a cab.

The store was pretty fancy for a weaponry but she guessed this was a classical Atlas scenario. The name itself was a clue. She went in, the door activating a bell on top of it. A man standing behind a counter smiled at her. He had black hair and a moustache and seemed around her father’s age.

“What can I help you with?” he asked. Yang walked towards him in a somehow intimidating fashion.

“I need to know who bought this dart” the blonde replied, taking it out of her pocket and putting in the man’s face.

“That is indeed one of our products” the man recognized. “But I can’t tell you who bought it unless you have a…” Yang placed a piece of paper in front of him. She was so glad she stopped by Ironwood’s before leaving the base and got his signature on a search order.

“Got it” Yang stated. Her eyes flashing red for a second.

“Ok…” the man went to the computer at the counter and entered the dart’s serial number. Nothing came on the screen.

“What? I thought you said this was one of your products”.

“It is but we don’t have any registered sale. I might have been stolen or…” Yang had had enough. She was losing valuable time. Something in the way the man's eyes never looked directly at her made her suspect he was hiding something. She took him by the collar of his shirt with her mechanical arm, her eyes fixated on red.

“You are going to tell me who bought this. I know you know so stop making shit up. Whoever used this thing kidnapped my…” there was second there where Yang’s mind tried to define what Blake was to her. The answer suddenly seemed obvious “They kidnapped my girlfriend”.

“Is she a faunus?” the man asked.

“Yes”

“I’m sorry… I can’t…” he cried. Yang smashed her hand against the counter, breaking the glass.

“You are going to tell me right now or I’m gonna make sure you need one of this” she said, referring to her prosthetic. He shivered.

“It’s The Traders” the salesman said finally “We do business with them under the table”

“Why would you do that?” the blonde asked, trying to understand why someone would even sell to such monsters.Was Was Atlas really that sick?

“They have us threatened and I… I suspect the owner of the store hates faunus”. She let him down. This wasn’t this guy’s fault.

“I need to find them” Yang said, her eyes back to lilac.

“Ok” the guy replied “But make sure they don’t know the info came from here. They would make us disappear” the huntress nodded. She was going to destroy them either way.

“I’ll make sure of it”

He told her that The Traders came every week to restock ammo. They couldn’t buy in great quantity without alarming the militia. The next day they would pick up a package at 11pm. One more day. She was so close to find her and now she had to wait. This would be the longest day and a half of her fucking life.

“Please be there” she prayed in her head “Please be okay”.

----------

END NOTES: This chapter depicts extreme violence and a sexual assault. I kinda based it on my own experience with abuse and I tried to be as realistic as possible without being morbid in any way. If you want to skip it its okay, I’ll put a warning before it happens. 

#bumbleby #fanfiction #rwby #fanfic #silence in atlas #yang #blake #yang and blake #blake and yang #Graphic violence warning

[otterlyfabby-blog]

Secrets About Moving Furniture Revealed

شركة نقل اثاث بمكة

What Everybody Dislikes About Moving Furniture and Why

If you're searching with regard to a low cost means for you to ship furniture, try U-Pack. If you've obtained brand-new furniture you probably will have to knock out the old stuff. If you've bought new furniture, this will be reasonable approach dependable going services to permit often the experts manage the new products. You ought to produce a decision as for you to what method you would like to work with to ship your furniture. The very first place to know is that you hope to certainly not just safeguard your pieces of furniture and residence, but you would like to shield by yourself. If a parcel of pieces of furniture requires legs or areas to be removed, you will have to be certain to have a toolbox handy. If you have got to learn to ship a good single parcel regarding home furniture or a complete room complete, our skilled home furniture movers will turn up at your door in time and ready to consider care of your objects with the best associated with care. Because somebody who's lived solely, I've usually moved heavy parts of furniture on my very own along with just a little bit of ingenuity and a partners tricks. For some individuals, the only items worth getting may be valuable parts involving furniture and a husband and wife boxes of personal belongings the sum that might be expensive in order to move with a program intended for large deliveries. Having apart massive pieces of furnishings can aid you receive the more in . or two essential to fit via narrow doorways. Preparing to move massive parts of furnishings plus white goods can be an overwhelming task. Large, bulky parts of furnishings that weight some sort of lot are difficult to offer with plus it'll take more than 1 individual to do the job.

Vital Pieces of Moving Furniture

Talk to us all today to help experience how simple it is to move furniture. Without them all you will end up helpless large plus heavy furniture should be dealt with by simply additional people and the suitable tools to help a person. Lifting heavy home furniture via 1 floor to a different one is usually demanding as lifters can have to manage staircases together with often tight corners. You might even threat damaging often the furniture most likely trying to move. Delivery furniture needs to end up being uncomplicated, and with MiniMoves furniture supplying and transport solutions, really. Instead, take advantage of the moving approach and get home furniture sliders which could assist you in easy furniture shifting and shifting. If an individual wish to end up being transferring furniture inside your home you will have in order to empty them. When you decide how you're likely to help send your furniture, make this piece for transport and acquire ready to begin moving good sized pieces of furniture about your house. Moving furniture just isn't only awkward, however it may likewise be expensive. Transferring large furniture is a good difficult job which provides challenges for your health, home, different furniture in addition to different folks also. From time to time, a person could want to accomplish away with an classic home furniture or sell the idea.

Top Choices of Moving Furniture

Whether you aren't moving or shipment furniture purchased online, an individual has got several choices. Like in the event as some furniture like wardrobe, table and collapsible couch bed, you may well believe it is going to be as well much to lease a good truck to assist an individual move. Make sure that the pieces of furniture is effectively packed regarding its own excellent. Transferring heavy furniture and systems may be a good wearisome undertaking and you as well need to be particular your furniture or perhaps machinery does not become ruined from the moving process. Dust sheets are much through reliable when it has to do with protecting your furnishings from paint splashes as well as other damage that can occur while in renovation. In the event you intend to arranged up office furniture you many probably wish to be given it done whenever simple. Whether you're planning to move your home home furniture or your office furnishings, likely to most possibly require to have this carried out as quick as is possible and even without a good lot associated with difficulty. You ought to be calm and think about move carefully how you are going to pack items and the particular means you will travel them to the new property. Moving is something which everyone will need to find out to become through a person day. It doesn't must be stressful at all together with won't need to become the work of a specific. There's a good deal to consider with regards to in addition to look at, starting from preparing the move whilst continue to in the usa. Therefore the idea is clear that anyone can create your move effortless by getting specialist assistance from a trusted together with encountered moving business found in Hyderabad. The very greatest and most preferred method to have comfy move is becoming experienced assistance.

The One Thing to Do for Moving Furniture

What You Are clueless About Furniture Transferring Company Professional movers have skilled staff together with each other with the very ideal products for handling virtually any sort of bags you'll be transporting. Whenever best movers are reputable, it is advisable to best to make selected you do your research very well in advance of employing a good mover. Therefore, they as well provide correct transit service to their clients. A highly skilled mover can help a person do that. You can find a few Long distance and neighborhood movers out there which it is possible in order to phone and get a lot more info on or else you will be able to go with the web and will attain instant moving quotations through full service shifting companies in your region. Whatever They Informed You With regards to Furniture Moving Company Is usually Dead Wrong... And Here's The reason why Businesses are ordinarily very user user friendly and hence many people will attempt to assist you in every possible way. The good moving van needs in order to be in a situation to spell out inside best details every area of the residential moving procedure so thoroughly and properly so that you could appreciate the total amount of money the charge as relocating fees. You called a great outstanding furniture moving company plus reserved their expert services to the huge moment.

Lies You've Been Told About Moving Furniture

Choosing Excellent Furniture Moving Organization The firms generally present you with the measurement of each trailer and even what type of stuff it can cater to, in order to specifically estimate what type of trailer dimension you motivation. Ensure you choose a good company that correctly is geared your wants, preferences plus budgets. The company furthermore provides free quotes hence the clients can know the particular specific price before the move, which can lead to be able to a good savings up to 40 percent. If you'll seek out the services of a good trusted plus experienced transferring business found in Warangal, one particular thing is a number of a new hassle-free and delighted connection with relocation. Some companies just conduct pieces of furniture moving, although a good deal are usually full-service movers who can also conduct furniture steps locally or long-distance. Numerous corporations supply you using the decision to also screen the development of your own personal effects while they may within transit. If you appointed the right moving business, you can be without doubt almost everything will arrive in 1 piece in addition to that you'll have not be concerned about.

#Moving Furniture

[insanely-creative-things]

Big Hero 7: The Series

www.fanfiction.net

|

Big Hero 7 S2

Muira-Horror!

*The Dark of the moonless, Friday night goes over Sycorax as Liv Amara is discussing with her main employer: Nozako. The old woman stared at the younger lady as the blonde discussed her latest new victim.*

Liv: And that's what I'm adding to Speckles. Is it any good?

Nozako: I suppose so, but if he turns into a chicken send me any footage you can of him. I love seeing insufferable brats like him and yourself squeal like pigs.

Liv:*Taking note of her comment on herself* If that is your wish Madame Nozako.

Nozako: Anything else you would like to tell me?

Liv: Only that I am going to Muirahara woods to search for any...peculiar species to research.

Nozako: Do as you wish... except...

*Nozako pulls out a hologram of Muirahara woods and points to one specific lot of land.*

Nozako: I have business to attend right there in some time soon, and it is in your best interest to not go anywhere to that spot until I deem it necessary... Understand?

Liv: Yes Madame Nozako.

*The Hologram ends from Nozako's side as she floats through the room where she looks at her guard.*

Nozako: Are your men ready?

*The guard nods, bowing his head. Nozako nods her head as well before she goes back to the hologram map where soon, the lot of land reveals itself to be a small, provincial village living in the midst's of Muirahara woods... and her crimson eyes are laced with impending doom.*

*The next day it starts in Krei's office where Alistair Krei himself is calling his assistant, Lois Carter.*

Krei: Judy? Judy? Judy?

*Lois then comes in.*

Lois: Its Lois sir, not Judy.

Krei: Of course, would you please tell Hiro and Mizuchi I need to talk to them?

*Lois then calls Hiro, who is setting up his new lab, and Mizuchi who is lifting the cartons to the storage when they hear Lois via earpiece.*

Lois: Mr. Krei wants to talk to you and Hiro/Mizuchi.

*Soon enough the two arrive at Krei's office.*

Mizuchi: What is it you need Boss?

Krei: I have a very exciting project, how are you two with bugs?

Hiro:*Thinking of tech bugs* I've written my share of code, fixing bugs isn't exactly my strength but I'm up for it.

*The bugs Krei is talking about however, is not of technical bugs that any electronic would experience, but literal bugs. Hiro swats the bugs away before Mizuchi picks him up and puts him on his shoulder to sit.*

Hiro: Thanks Mizuchi.

Mizuchi: You are welcome Hiro.

Hiro: *To Krei* Mr. Krei, why did you take us to Muirahara woods?

Krei: I've been considering buying some land out here for Krei Park, my new tech campus. *Sniffs air* Smell that pine?... or fur... or ham was something eating here somewhere?

Mizuchi: Lets explore the woods more before you could consider the purphase, don't you think?

Krei: Sure! I've always loved the woods!

Liv: Me too!

*That's when the four men turn around to see Liv Amara and Chris walking up behind them. Hiro's grip tightened as his heart raced; sensing Hiro's discomfort Mizuchi keeps a firm grip and fist ready, just in case any of them does something.*

Liv: *To Mizuchi* Hello Mizuchi, haven't seen you around since the dinner party? You doing well?

Mizuchi: I am just fine, Miss Amara.

Liv: *Flutters eyes* That's good to hear. And that's quiet impressive of you, holding the boy up.

Mizuchi: That would be Hiro, Miss Amara, and Krei's intern.

Liv: Is that so? *To Hiro* How is Cora?

Hiro:*Slightly narrow eyes* she's fine.

Krei: Liv Amara.

Liv: Alistair Krei.

Krei; What are you doing out here?

Chris: Sycorax wants to acquire this land for a nature conservatory.

Liv: We infuse business with heart, and nature is mother earth's heart.

Krei; Whatever, find another heart. I'm buying these woods, putting in an offer now.

*He pulls out his phone to call.*

Liv: My offer will be higher. *To Chris* Chris?

Krei: As if they would accept the offer from the a lady who let a monster kidnap a young intern, which ended up being killed to save her life! Not to mention she quitted the next day.

*Liv Amara makes no gestures, but Chris is on his way to call to purchase the land.. but got nothing.*

Chris: I'm not getting a signal.

Krei: Well, if you were using a KreiTech Phone...

*His phone has no signal as well.*

Krei: We're in the middle of nowhere, its the signal's fault.

Hiro: *From Mizuchi's shoulder* No, its Bessie's fault.

Liv: Bessie?

Hiro: A meteorite that-*Pauses as he realized what he was gonna say before he changes subject.* Its nothing actually. Mind if we go talk to Krei... alone?

*Liv Amara says nothing as the three men walk off be out of earshot of Liv and Chris. But Liv merely nods at Chris to which he stealthily hides close to hear the conversation.*

Krei: What's that for? What were you gonna say?

Hiro: Bessie is a meteorite that messes up technology.

Krei: Well that's inconvenient, why hasn't someone gotten rid of it?

Hiro: Well there's this guy, he protects Bessie by pretending he's a monster called the Hybagon. His real name is Ned Ludd.

Krei: Ned Ludd? The Real estate guy? He used to be an old golf buddy of mine! He'll see things my way.

Hiro: Look, the woods changed him.

Mizuchi: And lets just say our previous encounter is less an ideal.

Krei: How much could he have changed? So where is he anyway?

Hiro: Mizuchi knows where he lives.

Mizuchi: You could say that.

*Chris then returns back to Liv Amara and whispers the info he learned, to which she gives a very ominous grin.*

*The three men head back at Krei tech where they are joined with Lois to share a glass of sparkling lemonade.*

Krei: This calls for the good stuff. Sparkling Lemonade. To the Muirahara woods. Which I officially own.

Mizuchi, Lois, and Hiro: To the woods.

Krei: Exactly.

Hiro: Huh?

Krei: To the woods! Tomorrow! I have to convince Ned Ludd to take Bessie and leave.

Hiro: Good luck with that.

Krei: Thanks, since you and Mizuchi are coming. Get some sleep, you'll need your wits in the wilderness.

Hiro; Yeah... no.

Krei: But you and Mizuchi are the only ones who knows where Ned Ludd lives. Plus Mizuchi is the only man who could wrestle a bear into submission.

Lois: And your contract has a mandatory spontaneous camping trip clause.

Mizuchi: You really come prepared don't you boss?

*At Sycorax labs, Liv and Chris.*

Liv: Well this is incredible, six months of searching and we learn from Krei's intern where that meteorite is.

Chris: What about Krei, Hermit, and the giant.

Liv: Krei and the freak will be out of the picture. Mizuchi however, is someone I'm very interested in.

Chris: So what do you propose we do to get them?

Liv: Well... lets make the hybagon legend... into reality.

Chris: Lets just hope we don't go near that place Madame Nozako told us...

Liv: Its OK, she will never know.

*The next day at the Lucky Cat, the gang are eating their breakfast as Hiro relays the news to them. Cass gets off the phone as she goes over and delivers the pancakes to them.*

Cass: I just got a great last minute catering job! But I can't leave the Lucky Cat.

Hiro; Sorry Aunt Cass, I wish I could help but I have to go to the woods with Krei, its in my contract.

Fred: Spontaneous camping trip clause? Yeah, that will get ya anytime.

Minimax: You eat like an animal.

*Fred then proceeds to eat like one while Honey Lemon and Gogo get their pancakes but its shaped like a heart.*

Cass: Still can't believe you two are a thing now! How does it feel?

Honey Lemon: It feels so wonderful! *To Hiro* And you can't bring Baymax after what Bessie did to him last time.

Cora: Not to mention the wolves...

Cass: Who's this Bessie? And what wolves?

Baymax: Bessie is not a person Aunt Cass. Bessie is a-

Hiro: operated chipmunks that are attracted to large white surfaces... they swarm.

Cora: And the wolves resided in the woods where Baymax was but they moved.

Gogo: Yeah, OK. Krei has no idea what he's doing and he's dragging you and Cora's dad into this. I'll go with you.

Cora: So am I!

Hiro: Really? Thanks Gogo, *Puts arm around Cora* And thanks babe.

Cass: *Sighs* Well I guess I should cancel my catering job.

Honey Lemon: How about the three of us run the lucky cat?

Cass: Aw that's sweet. Are you sure?

Wasabi: Absolutely!

Fred: It'll be a piece of taco.

Honey Lemon: Don't you mean cake?

Fred: I prefer tacos.

Cass: Wasabi, and Honey Lemon are for sure gonna be here right?

Honey Lemon: Yeah! And maybe Esme can join! *To Gogo* Be careful sweetie.

Gogo:... I will babe.

*Cora turns to Hiro and holds his hand tight.*

Cora: I'm bringing my book with me, just in case...

Hiro: Cora, its OK. I can take care of myself! No snakes this time K?

Cora: OK

*The two smile before they hug each other tightly. Meanwhile Nedd is conversing with Bessie*

Ned: Bessie girl, if I didn't have you I'd loose my mind! Oh! you haven't touched your sap!

Liv: Hello? Mr. Ludd?

*Nedd turns around to see Liv Amara at the top of the tree ledge. He gets up and prepares his stance.*

Nedd: Hey! Who are you?!

Liv: An eco-forward entrepreneur.

*That's when Chris lands behind Nedd to attack. Nedd spins his staff*

Nedd: Where you come from Handsome?

Chris: The world's most advanced genetic lab.

Nedd: Who is what now?

*Chris gives the go ahead and fight sign and so Nedd does, fluffing his hair for battle. He charges at Chris but the genetically enhanced guy knocks out Ned's staff and disappears.*

Nedd: Hey dum dum! You show yourself!*Picks up his staff*

Chris: Up here!

*He lands on top of his shoulders and presses the five pressure points to submit Ned to temorary paralysis.*

Liv: Thank you Chris.

*The then places the knock out sticker on Ned's neck to keep him out.*

Liv; We'll have Ned take care of Krei for us.

Chris: Will the patch work around that?

*He looks at the meteorite to suggest.*

Liv: Oh Bessie? I have plans for her.

*That is when Chris looks outside and sees smoke coming from the far distance... and what sounded like screaming.*

Chris: A fire?

Liv: Hmmm... its too far and its contained to one area. Its nothing of our concern.

*But when she stands up to walk out she steps on a glass picture. Carefully picking it up her eyes widened before she puts the photo in her pocket. This requires... further research. Meanwhile, Krei is sitting shot gun with Gogo as the driver and Hiro on the back while Mizuchi is driving his motorbike with Cora on his back.*

Krei: Its my SUV, why can't I drive?

Gogo: Because, I know these woods better than you know your own private island.

Krei: Which one? Kreitopia? or Kretucket? Or Little Hawaii?

*The car's power then went out, slowing it down as does Mizuchi, getting off the bike while he puts Cora down.*

Gogo: Looks like we're in Bessie territory. We walk from here.

Mizuchi: And I'll lead the way...

*Baymax opens the door of the café to their costumer, dressed in a cute apron.*

Baymax: Hello, welcome to the Lucky Cat Café!

Minimax: Your dining experience will be exemplary!

Customer: Oh this must be one of them robot cafes!

Esme: Not quiet good sir.

*The customer turns to see Esme in a tight white blouse and blue pencil skirt.*

Esme: Would you like to be seated?

Customer: *With red face and squeaky voice* Yes.

* Wasabi is busy sculpting a foam kitty cat while Honey Lemon delivers the orders to the other customers. Fred had drank the order Wasabi made for Number 16 sadly. When the next customer enters, Mochi leaves through the door.*

Minimax: Was the feline supposed to exit?

Honey Lemon: Oh no! Mochi!

*Honey Lemon steps outside to see Mochi being nowhere in sight.*

Honey Lemon: He's gone!

Baymax: House cats can run up to a speed of thirty miles per hour.

Wasabi: We have to find him!

Esme: OK, plan is simple; Fred, Minimax, and Baymax will go search for Mochi. Wasabi, Honey Lemon, and I will handle the café.

Fred: One hundred percent agree! We're bringing back Mochi!

Minimax: Dead or alive!

*The gang stare at Minimax.*

Fred: Lets just go with Alive for now.

*The day turns to evening as Krei, Gogo, Cora, and Hiro walk ahead with Mizuchi carrying the gear with ease. Though the two teens offered to carry some of the stuff to lighten the load, which Mizuchi appreciated.*

Mizuchi: You certainly are getting stronger Hiro.

Hiro: Oh its nothing much.

Cora: No joke, the training with Papa has been working! Did you manage to pull out the arrow too?

Hiro: Well... not really.

Mizuchi: He has yet to master Discipline and strength.

Hiro; In translation: two heavy rocks tied to my hands.

Cora: You'll get it babe.

Krei; OK, which way now you two?

Mizuchi: We're getting close.

*That is when Nedd comes walking through the woods, shuffling as if he's regaining consciousness.*

Krei: Ned! Golf buddy Hello!... you're gonna need to shave if you wanna get back in the club. Spiders are living in your beard.

Nedd: Think someone jumped on my head...

Cora: Who could've jumped Ned?

Ned: Out of nowhere... from above... handsome styled man... beautiful eyes..

Gogo: He's acting weird.

Cora: Weirder then Ned Ludd weird...

*At the tree house, Liv Amara returned back from exploring the rooms, holding a couple things in her arm. Chris had set up a box to contain the meteorite safely.*

Liv: The containment unit should cancel Bessie's disruption field.

Chris: I think its sweet he named it.

Liv: Everyone names their pets. I named you didn't I?

*She throws a cookie at him to which he catches it with mouth.*

Liv: Good boy. Now shut it.

*Chris locks the box which soon gives Liv Amara signal to activate her dastardly chip on Ned.*

Liv: Perfect.

Chris: So whatcha packed there? I doubt the hermit has anything else valuable.

Liv: He doesn't...*Pulls out photo to reveal a young Akemi with her mother standing by the sea, holding a very familiar herbal book in their hands.* But they do... the question is where are they now?

*The five stare at Nedd as he tries to recall what has happened to him.*

Ned: Show yourself.. Oh! City folks think they're so smart.

*When a piece of his hair moved Cora spots a familiar sticker on his neck and a even familiar chip within it.*

Cora: Guys! Somethings on Ned!

Krei: What a spider?

Cora: No! A chip!

Hiro: A chip?! You mean-?

*The chip activates which soon takes control of Ned Ludds body, twisting his form and making him more feral than ever before.*

Ned: What is happening?!

Krei; What is going on?!

*Finally, Ned Ludd had transformed into the very legend itself. The Hybagon.*

Krei: Please tell this isn't real!

Hiro: No its real!

Cora: 100 Percent authentic!

*The Hybagon jumps towards Krei as it howls. Mizuchi and Gogo grab a stone and throw it at the hybagon, causing the monster to focus on them.*

Gogo and Mizuchi: Run!

Mizuchi: We'll loose him in the trees! *To Hiro* Hiro! take Cora away from here and look for help!

Hiro: Got it!

*Hiro takes Cora's hand and runs faster then before as the hybagon slashes and hops through the trees. Before the Hybagon goes after the teens the monster is pinned down by Mizuchi before he pushes him off.*

Mizuchi: COME AND FACE ME YOU COWARD!

*the hybagon howls before he launches himself to Mizuchi. Hiro and Cora continue running with the group. Mizuchi slashes and bits the Hybagon, his strength pushing tenfold as he keeps him from going after the others. They rolled through the hills, hitting and bitting until Mizuchi has the hybagon pinned down. Before Mizuchi could knock him out, he notices a smell.. smoke.. and its close... He looks up and immediately his heart stops. The Hybagon uses the opportunity to kick Mizuchi in the stomach and send him down, landing with a thud and a groan, finally passing out. The four stop running and look back at the woods.*

Hiro: I think Mizuchi got him!

Hybagon:*ROAR!*

Cora: Oh no! Papa!

Hiro: Lets keep running!

Cora: But Papa!-

Hiro: Would want us to make out of these woods alive and get help!

Cora: *Worry then determination on her face* You're right Hiro!

Krei: Go left!

Gogo: No we need to go right!

*Hiro and Cora pull Krei to the left, which catches Gogo's attention.*

Gogo: Would you hurry up!-

Krei: You're going the wrong way!

*She slides down a ridge and into the river.*

Krei: Well I hate to say I told you so but I told you so!

*And so, Krei runs towards Gogo to save her.*

Krei: Cora! Once I get Gogo bring your herbal medicine book out!

*Meanwhile, Baymax put up a missing flyer for Mochi on a street post along with Fred and Minimax.*

Minimax: Are you certain that these visual notifications are the most efficient way to find the feline?

Fred: Definitely Minimax! Somebody will be able to help!

*Felony Carl then goes to Baymax, holding the missing flyer, while holding a puppy on his other hand.*

Felony Carl: Hey, I got some missing cat here.

Baymax: That is a dog.

Felony Carl: Oh wait. Here you go. * He pulls out a mouse*

Fred: What else you got?

*Hiro, Cora, and Krei run alongside the river to which she notices heads over a waterfall.*

Hiro and Cora: Gogo!

Gogo: Well this isn't good!

*Gogo tries to swim back as fast as she can while the remaining three go after her. Krei notices a thick branch and pulls it out. Gogo manages to cling to a rock while Hiro and Cora lean their way to grab Gogo's hand but the woman slips. Just then Krei slips by and holds out the branch he grabbed earlier and throws it to Gogo.*

Krei: Gogo! Grab onto this!

*Gogo catches the branch just in time as Krei holds onto it. Hiro and Cora soon pull Krei and Gogo out of the waterfall and into dry land.*

Krei: I'm so out of shape I need a new personal trainer!

Hiro; I hate this river...

Cora: I'm suddenly getting flashbacks of the river... radishes up ahead.

Krei: *To gogo* why didn't you listen to me?! Why did you go right?

Gogo: Because the opposite of anything you say usually works.

Krei; The right part of the path had lush foliage! A clear indicator of a significant body of water nearby!

*Gogo and Hiro look at Krei with surprise while Cora is impressed*

Cora: Wow... you really do know your stuff.

Krei: Yeah, I know things.

Gogo; I thought the hybagon thing was fake.

Hiro: Not anymore.

Cora: Thanks to a little chip on his neck.

Gogo: A chip on his neck?

Cora: It looked just like-

Krei: Shh... do you hear that?

*That's when they hear the howl of the hybagon.*

Gogo; OK, not fake! I get it!

*Krei gathers up mud and starts slathering himself in it.*

Hiro: Uh what are you doing?

Krei: masking my scent? Do you know anything?

*Hiro and Cora soon join in slathering themselves in mud.*

Hiro; Gogo come on!

Gogo: I'm already freezing and wet. There's absolutely no way-

*That's when the hybagon shows up in front of Gogo.*

Gogo: OK I'll just take those leaves now thank you!

*The Hybagon howls as Gogo screams like little girl and runs off. The Hybagon hops over the three covered people to give chase.* She dodges and runs to avoid the hybagon but is soon caught in his grasp. Soon enough the three come for her and Hiro jumps into action. Using the fallen tree he gets up and jumps, grabbing a large branch to swing at him, knocking him out while releasing Gogo. However the fall breaks her leg badly. The three carry Gogo to safety and out of the Hybagon's view. Cora is quick to throw mud at her face while giving a look that spoke, 'why didn't you listen?!'. The four stand still until the Hybagon goes away, loosing the scent of the speedster.*

Krei: And what did we learn about masking our scent?

Hiro: Guys... I think we're lost.

Cora: Lost in the woods...

Fred: *looking into a garbage can.*

Fred: Mochi! Where are you Mochi?!

Baymax: Here, kitty kitty.

Minimax; Show yourself calamitus cat!

Fred: If we don't find Mochi Aunt Cass is gonna freak!? Wait! Maybe we could dress up Minimax in a cat costume?! How's your purring?

Minimax: Minimaximum cat impression! Purr purr! In the name of all that is cute purr purr!

Fred:She might not buy it..Ooh! Hey Baymax! You can scan for things and stuff right?

Baymax: Yes, I can for many things and also stuff.

Fred: So why haven't we scanned for Mochi yet?!

Baymax: Scanning for Mochi. *He soon finds a match* Mochi is over there.

*Soon they all see Kage and Baymax 1, carrying Mochi in his arms as he purrs.*

Fred: Mochi!

Minimax: I will get him!

*Minimax jumps towards Kage which causes Mochi to spaz before jumping up the window vendor curtain and all the way to the top of the lamp post.*

Baymax: A fall from that height would be hazardous.

Fred: Hop on down Mochi! Pretty sure I got you out here!

*But Mochi jumps onto the top of the bus instead, being driven away from the group.*

Baymax and Baymax 1: Oh no.

*Meanwhile, Cora had just finished wrapping Gogo's leg with herbs and leaves to deal with the sting on her leg after finding that she couldn't walk.*

Gogo: My ankle is really messed up.

Cora: Lie down and get some rest Gogo.

Gogo; *To Krei* What are you doing?

Krei: Ta da!

*Krei pulls out a brace made of wood and vine.*

Hiro: Its a...

Krei; Its a walking thing I made for Gogo. Put it on.

*He throws the wood brace to Gogo which she catches it. After Cora helps Gogo put it on, the teens help her stand up... and it worked perfectly.*

Gogo: That's actually not bad. *testing the brace and finds herself able to walk* Thanks Krei.

Hiro: How do you know all this stuff?

Krei: Every summer when I was home from boarding school my parents would ship me out to fire scout camp. Who's a fire scout? I'm a fire scout! I didn't really have any friends there so I spent most of my time in nature by myself. I guess that's why I still love it out here, I don't mind that I don't have any friends. Single tier.

Cora: That's really cool!... Papa would've loved to hear that...

*When Krei sees Cora's smile fade and replaced with worry and fear that's when he realizes something important.*

Krei: Listen, first we'll look for edible berries nearby and once we gather our bearings we'll look for your father.

Cora: OK...

Krei:...Come on now, where's that smile?...

*Cora remains her melancholic face as her eyes start to water. Krei sighs as he starts patting on her head.*

Krei; I mean it. The last thing your dad wants is to see you cry.

*That is when they see something in the sky... smoke.*

Hiro; smoke?

Krei: that means other people are here!

Cora: Which means help!

*Hiro and Cora quickly pick up Gogo as Krei runs forward towards the origin of the smoke.*

Krei: Its very close! And judging from the color the fire is dying out!

Hiro; Then we better hurry!

*Krei reaches to the ledge when he stops... his posture stills. Hiro, Cora, and Gogo catch up to him only to see him stand still like a rock.*

Hiro; Krei?...

*There was no response.*

Gogo: Krei?!

*Cora walks over to Krei to wave a hand at his face, only to see his face struck with shock and horror. She turns her head and gasps as what she sees. Hiro and Gogo join to see to their horror... a completely burned out village. Krei slowly slides down along with Cora, leaving Hiro and Gogo to go the longer way down.*

Krei: Check for survivors.

*The four of them look around the remains of the village with caution, their ears open to hear any calls for help. The burnt remains of the ladder collapse, frightening Gogo and Hiro. Cora goes through a door with a missing house, searching for any voice when she looks down to see a lone, simple doll on the floor. She picks up the doll and gently holds it to her heart, realizing what had happened to its owner. Krei then spots a familiar figure, kneeling down in front of a trench.*

Krei; Mizuchi!

*The others hear Krei's voice and soon the fastest to catch up was Hiro.*

Hiro: Mizuchi! You're alive! Did you see any other people survive?

*But when he reaches there, he sees in front of Mizuchi the trench filled with the bodies of the villagers, all of them having bled out to death. He then sees a lone figure in Mizuchi's arms... an old man with a large gaping wound on his side, barely breathing.*

Hiro: Mizuchi... who's he?

*The old man focuses his eyes onto Hiro.*

Hanizuko: Mizuchi... is this... the boy your daughter... is seeing?

*Mizuchi nods solemnly. Hiro goes towards the man, his heart pounding as the man looks at him then Mizuchi.*

Hanizuko: You've really outdone yourself Mizuchi... he's a mischievous one... but with a good heart like you said... You two... and all you love... will live on despite... the dark...ness...

*The old man stops breathing all together, his eyes closing for the last time. the others arrive in time to see the man die and the bodies of the villagers. Cora then runs towards Mizuchi as he places the old man to the ground gently. Cora sobs into his body, to which Mizuchi hugs his daughter tightly back. They look at the rest and soon, without a spoken word, leave the village, using two sticks to use as a grave marker. Once they got out Krei goes to Mizuchi and slowly pats his back.*

Krei:... When we get home, I'm setting up a proper funeral for them...

*Mizuchi says nothing, but nods to show his gesture that he appreciates Krei's promise. That is when Hiro's phone... starts ringing..*

Hiro: *Reading the text* Everything is fine and Mochi isn't... lost'...

Cora: Wait! You just got a text!

*Everyone else pulls out their phone to see that they all have signal.*

Krei; Its working!

Hiro: So what happened to Bessie then?

*That's when they hear rumbling through the trees*

Cora: Uh oh.

Hiro; Definitely uh oh!

*Hiro and Cora join Gogo to help while Mizuchi stands by Krei.*

Krei: Can you guys trust me?

Gogo: Is now really the time?

*The hybagon swings close.*

Krei: Do you guys trust me?!

Hiro: Fine yes!

Krei: thank you, means a lot to me. *To Mizuchi* Mizuchi, come with me!

*soon Mizuchi and Krei leave the three alone.*

Gogo: For the record, I said I trusted you, Hiro.

*The Hybagon jumps towards the three when an SUV and a motorcycle come by and lands in front of them to protect them from the hybagon.*

Krei: I figured if our phones worked, our car would too!

*Cora, Hiro, and Gogo get inside the car while Mizuchi revs the motorbike to confuse the monster before joining Krei to escape the hybagon.*

Krei; I told you to trust me.

Gogo: Just so you know, I trusted you.

Cora: You saved our lives... thank you.

Krei: Thank you Gogo, I'm touched. And your welcome Cora.

*But what they fail to notice is that a truck just so happens to drive by and so the hybagon lands on top of it to chase after the group.

*After much convincing and screaming; Baymax, Minimax, and Fred suit up to save Mochi, with Kage on Baymax's back while Baymax one is on the ground just in case.*

Fred: Mochi!

Baymax: I have detected Mochi on the bridge.

Fred: Nice move Baymax lets go!*to Kage* Hold on man who was formerly known as Obake!

Kage: HAAAAAAA!

Minimax: Salvation is near carnivorous mammal known as mochi!

*The four land on the rope, with Kage clinging for dear life as he tries not to look down.*

Baymax: We have found Mochi. Also Hiro, also Gogo, also Cora, also Papa, also Alistair Krei.

Fred: And- THE HYBAGON! Its real!

Gogo: Wait a second, is that Baymax?

Hiro: And Fred and Minimax?

Cora: And is that Kage on his back?!

Fred: Watch out behind you!

*That's when Hiro turns around to see the hybagon on top of the truck behind them. The hybagon jumps up and lands on top of Krei's car.*

fred: Well now he's in front of you!

*Kage looks at Mizuchi as he drives near the car to reach the hybagon.*

Kage: Mizuchi what are you doing?!

Mizuchi: Not my daughter or her boyfriend or their friend or my boss you walking piece of rotten fur!

*Krei slams the breaks, allowing Mizuchi to grab the hybagon and throw him away from them. Krei gets out of the car to which the hybagon gets back up and roars. Krei stands near the teens and Gogo as Mizuchi stands the opposite side, though during the crash he had badly sprained his leg. Fred then jumps into action as he uses a wall of fire to block its path.*

Minimax: We have to shake hands foul beast!

*The Hybagon catches Minimax and throws him out over the bridge.*

Minimax: AVENGE ME!

Fred: No! For Minimax!

*Fred goes to fight off the monster.*

Fred: Mr. Hybagon, I know we're in the middle of the battle, but I gotta say I'm a huge huge fan!

*The hybagon throws Fred to the rope where Mochi is located but Minimax catches him.*

Hiro: Baymax! Rocket fist!

*Baymax takes aim with the rocket fist and soon it hits the hybagon. But the monster musters enough strength to hurl it back and hit Baymax instead.*

Baymax: Oh no.

*Baymax lands on top of the car.*

Krei: OK, if this thing eats me tell my assistant that I knew her name was Lois but every time I think that I think of Family Guy!

Cora: Really?

*But before the hybagon would slash down the heroes Mochi comes in and starts clawing at the monster's face! During the scuffle Mochi removes the sticker from the hybagon before it goes to Baymax's arms. Kage picks up the sticker before the hybagon gets back up. but when he does the monster slowly reverts back to being Ned Ludd*

Ned: What? Where in blazes am I?

Krei: You've been through a lot but your safe. With Krei.

Ned: Krei... I know a fella named Krei. Cheated at golf.

Baymax: I will scan you for injuries.

Ned: Scanned? I don't wanna get scanned by a robot!

Gogo: Well, sounds like Ned's back to normal.

*Mizuchi looks at Kage before he hugs him tightly. As Baymax scans Ned, he finds some interesting things.*

Baymax: You have sustained Minor abbresion but are other wise in good health. Would you like a lollipop?

Ned: Yes I would! *Looks at the three* What? I got a weakness for sweets.

*The three look at Krei before Hiro looks at Mizuchi and Kage.*

Hiro: Hey... I need you to help Gogo.

Cora and Mizuchi: OK. Got it.

Hiro:...That includes you Kage.

*Kage blinks before he hesitantly helps Gogo up with her leg injury and guides her to Baymax. Cora looks at Hiro walk towards Krei at the side of the bridge.*

Hiro: Hey Mr. Krei. I'm sorry I misjudged you.

Krei; I'm can't say I blame you. I know how people see me. The wildly handsome business tycoon who only understands the finer things in life!.. because he's earned them.

Hiro: I said none of-

Krei: But I want you to know that I've made a decision that Krei tech won't build in the woods.

Hiro; Wow, that's really nice of you.

Krei: Yes it is. If the woods don't exist how would tomorrow's executives impress their interns with survivalist know how?

*Krei ruffles Hiro's hair in an affectionate, fatherly way which made Hiro smile. He then turns his attention to Mizuchi and Cora, who are hugging each other tightly... and on the hug is Kage, who does not hug back but stays still. Hiro smiles at the scene. Later on the Lucly Cat Café is wrapping up.*

Honey Lemon; That would be three dollars and twenty one cents. Thank you so much! have a wonderful night!

*As the last customer leaves Wasabi and Esme finish up cleaning the café.*

Wasabi: Another tip! Today has been super easy!

Honey Lemon; And we made new friends!

*The door opens to reveal Fred carrying Mochi. With Low battery Baymax and Minimax.*

Baymax: We find the HaiRY BaBY! I LoVE hIM So mUCh!

Esme: So I'm guessing your day was-

Fred: Drained. Not as drained as them now.

Baymax: I juST realiSEd! *To Minimax* You're LikE Me! only MIni!

Minimax: Haha oH Its TRUe!

*Later on, Gogo and Hiro and Cora drive Ned back to the tree house.*

Ned: I feel like a complete dum dumm. I can't remember a lick of what happened.

Hiro; Its over and you're safe.

Cora: Whatever attacked you is long gone now. That's whats important.

Ned: You two aren't right about much kiddos...Wait a second! Why isn't Bessie stopping your vechicular thing!

*Ned leaps out of the car and into the tree.*

Cora: Look, its a transneural patch. and it looks exactly like the one Liv Amara sponsored.

Gogo: You're saying Liv amara turned Nedd into a monster?

Hiro; But what for?

Hybagon: Bessie's gone!

Cora: I think... we just our answer.

*Back at Sycorax, the meteorite is at the lowest level.*

Chris: OK, the stolen rock is floating... now what?

Liv: I'm thinking... makeover!.

*She types over her code to the meteorite and soon causes it to break and show its inner most parts.*

Liv: Ooh. Pretty. But when I'm done with you Bessie, you'll be beautiful.

*As of while, Nozako sips her tea as she looks out her window, looking over the recording of the village's destruction as its screams rang loudly.*

Nozako: This is what happens... when someone decides to trick the Madame.

*Soon the flag in the video is planted, with the symbol of the crustacean scorpion hybrid burning through the sky.*

A.N: and that's Muira Horror! Your thoughts? Love you guys!

#Big Hero 7 #big hero 6 fanfic #Hiro Hamada #Cora Mizichio #hiro hamada x oc #Gogo Tomago #Honey lemon #HoneyGogo #Fred Frederickson IV #Wasabi #Baymax #minimax #Kage Mizichio #Obake #Bob Aken #Mizuchi #alistair krei #Lois Carter #Chris BH6 #liv amara #Nozako Mizichio #Warning #a scene will contain death

[myfriendpokey]

clearance sale

clearing out some of my backlog of opinions before the new year so i can start anew. in this post I have accumulated some writing scraps on the only three topics: 1. finance 2. mystery 3. location

FINANCE

i enjoyed these recent-ish posts against the idea of indie sustainability, although as someone who already works a day job i always feel a bit ambivalent about the advice to just work a day job to pay for this stuff - - like yes, absolutely, do it, BUT sell your shit too in the knowledge that the type of precarity we associate w/ creative work is already in the process of being implemented everywhere else as well (or has already been - zero hour contracts, sub-living wages etc). like i am fortunate to still have a day job which pays a living wage and leaves me time to work on my own things on the side - but this feels like an anachronism rather than an inevitability right now.. maybe my unsustainable games will help keep me afloat when my job gets automated and i have to go work in an amazon warehouse, unsustainable games for an unsustainable job, ha ha ha. video games are an exploitative bubble but so is the rest of "the market".

it is true that this is a political problem rather than one in the narrow remit of things that can be fixed with the right 10-point sales plan- -  nevertheless i think the issue of trying to make even small money off these things will remain kind of pressing as, in turn, regular employment comes more and more to resemble irregularly compensated hobbyist labour.

anyway one point i found really interesting, which i think all the above posts kind of grapple with - - the idea that it's not necessarily more "realistic" to aim at selling 1000 copies rather than 100,000. i think while we make fun of the aspiring millionaires a lot of people have just been banking on the idea of a fertile middle ground between the two extremes of tiny and ludicrous amounts of sales, between boom and bust. i'm sure there are still people working in that space but it seems like it's shrinking.

one question brendan keogh asks in his piece is "why should game makers be any different  [from the norm of artists, musicians etc not really making any money]?" i think this can actually be answered a little - because hobbyist game development sort of exploded in tandem with the internet itself becoming more naturalized within everyday life, because the economic basis for indie games was always centered around the internet, which means people working in indie games were always in the vicinity of the massive, startling movements of capital that the internet rendered more visible and immediate. no more were the weird vicissitudes of the market hidden behind closed doors, in boardrooms or stock quotations - now you could log onto any site and see just bewildering amounts of money suddenly funnel into the pockets of this or that individual in real time, frequently to their own surprise as well. and i think this connected to something more general - a sort of ambient awareness of financialization, the way "the financial sector" cannibalized things like industry, the greater visibility of capital not as something embedded in some specific product or set of individual practices but as a kind of weird free-floating aura arbitrarily descending or departing. enormous reservesof "general" wealth became more visible just as the benefits and stability of waged employment became yet more desolate and i think you need to see the draw of one in part as a consequence of the other. 

gacha-capitalism, permanent artificial scarcity coupled with the vague, insistent prospect of fantastic gains, as long as you keep playing. which is a rhythm already enshrined in many areas of working life - broke college students and unpaid graduates hustling for eventual employment, waged workers grinding through until  retirement. but it's one the enhanced immediacy and swiftness of capital on the internet intensified and extended. fabulous payouts can strike anyone at any time, in exchange for slowly bleeding out the prospect of any other kind of livelihood. much like the austerity following the financial crash which levelled so many basic social services for no particular purpose other than the hope that doing so for long enough would please the gods of prosperity to start tossing money around again. all dues, no pay.

i do think it's worth being cynical about the efforts to domesticate this process, building a fair and sustainable biome within capitalism, by using the tools of that same capitalism etc.  but if the format can't be seperated from the wider world then that's something which swings both ways. for me the most interesting critical work around vgames right now is in the effort to move outside of the constant, numbing boom-and-bust cycles of capital, the idiot repetition of exhilaration and depression and exhilaration and it'll all be okay as long as we can hold out one more cycle, particularly when that's a rhythm which has been central to the development of the format from the beginning. i think anyone involved with developing videogames has probably seen multiple generations of cool shit emerge, get abruptly killed off and written out of history in accordance with market diktats, and then replaced with a new wave of cool shit whenever the investors shift gears into "expansion" mode again. a mode of thinking about and preserving what people do that stands in opposition to this is something i can easily imagine being more generally useful in the culture, as ever more areas of life and culture start becoming subject to the same questions.

MYSTERY

there's a mystery in depth and a mystery in shallowness. with depth the habitual glance of recognition goes out and falls through - you can place roughly where something is in relation to the world, but not what it's doing, not where it goes. as a presence it seems to require a new mode of attention to be recognized, which i guess is why it sometimes makes me uneasy - that challenge, the way that challenge can be moralized. are you a bad enough dude to engage with art?? if there are 100 black obelisks in a field which one do you decide to look at? and will it really turn out to be deep, or just dense?

videogames can feel like depth-worship, like the embodiment of an essentially cthonic system of values. how deep did you go and what did you see there? did  you find the gold bars in pac-man? (www.mikesarcade.com/cgi-bin/spies.cgi?action=url&type=info&page=pmgoldbar.info.txt) did you see the secret ending? how far did you get into the game mechanics, into the lore? this marks the top 10 deepest players on this game. surpass  them... if you dare. an ethos of diligent attention, hierarchial levels of  understanding and initiate-dom, a sub-culture. and at best a maguslike  dedication to altered states of consciousness that i can respect, an interest in shifting through mangled pieces of debris in search of secret mysteries. at worst the authority cults and tests of true belonging that spring up around those mysteries, whose value is in being hidden and whose guarantee is in the strenuous effort with which they must be located. paranoia about true spiritual meanings being plundered by opportunistic interlopers. stay out. get good.

the videogame has the basic opacity of the computer system and the act of engaging with this curious abyss is allegorized into dungeons, castles, mazes. trapdoors and secret corridors. one pleasure in looking up older games for me is in seeing them recognize and learn how to thematize this basic sense of mystery. in bubble bobble the obscure scoring mechanics and secret endings are cheekily perverse, arcade challenge by another means - another system to game. in king's quest there's something like a crossfertilization between the strange causal voids of the fairy tale and the adventure game: "Exit the gingerbread house and go east and east. There is a large walnut tree here. Take walnut and then open walnut to discover a gold nut. Head east and take bowl . Look bowl  to see the words “fill” at the bottom. Fill and the bowl will fill up with a delicious stew." the wizardry games took the connection between mysterious game systems and occult knowledge much further - the "true" ending of wizardry iv means finding a secret chamber and answering a series of riddles based on your knowledge of the kaballah (or at least, kaballah-derived tarot interpretations).

it's easy to moralize depth - lotus eaters, magic islands. you wander through a strange land and then return to find it's 5 hours later and you forgot to eat. there's something creepy to me about depth on an industrial scale, about building huge tunnels with massive teams on forced overtime, and then a team of professional tunnel reviewers cautiously start descending on ropes and come back every so often and say, well, 20 hours in and it all looks ok, and meanwhile everybody else is jumping en masse. maybe that's more of an issue with consumer culture in general. but sometimes it feels like a way to avoid dealing with certain inherent limitations of that culture, or even limitations of art in general, by projecting those limits out to the end of ever-deeper tunnels that fewer and fewer people will ever see, the rest of them straggling back, exhausted, getting jobs. well, i can't tell you if red dead 2 is good or not. i only got 60 hours in, and i never even found all the falcons.

if the mystery of depth is having too much space for speculation to operate coherently within, the mystery of shallowness is having not enough space for speculation to operate at all: something is too manifestly there, limited, closed-off, it's hard to push it away to get some metaphorical breathing room. 

i feel this way sometimes reading writers like tove jansson, flannery o'connor - SOMETHING happened, the stories are short and clear and describe some definite event without too much uncertainty, they even have "broader themes" raised - but somehow the themes feel embarrassingly outsize for the stories, and the stories remain too clearly defined to sink back into the murk of a generalized moral or experience. they feel like moral stories when you can't work out what the moral might be.

robbe-grillet on raymond roussel: "Now these chains of elucidations,  extraordinarily precise, ingenious, and farfetched, appear so derisory, so disappointing, that it is as if the mystery remained intact. But it  is henceforth a mystery that has been washed, emptied out, that has become  unnameable. The opacity no longer hides anything. One has the impression of  having found a locked drawer, then a key; and this key opens the drawer impeccably... and the drawer is empty."

there's a famous shallowness to videogames as well that's most often caught by people outside the culture - when you see the fake videogames in a comicbook, or on tv, and they're named something like "washing machine simulator 3000" or "municipal tax assailants". and part of this also stems from the computer, the history of the computer as it insinuated its way into everyday life, as a mysteriously elaborate and convoluted way of doing just impossibly banal things, like balancing chequebooks or printing text. the stubborn thingliness of not-quite-functional machines, the way the thingliness glosses and corrodes their own internal fantasies, mirrors of the basic weirdness that is human consciousness as a material fact within the world. 

with my friend i used to joke  about "e3" just being the dumpster behind an abandoned gamestop - all those needy longform experiences frozen into evocative trinkets. find a nonfunctional disk copy of mario odyssey and it gives you all the same delight as playing mario odyssey, only without having to. i think there's something beautiful about that flatness, that directionless object-hostility, the rejection of the grandoise hero's journey fantasies that it implies – as well as something baleful, a rejection of consciousess in general, the idea that it could take you anywhere not inside your own head.

LOCATION

why are there so many videogames about going outside? every time i've played a videogame it's been inside a room, usually a dark one, mostly while still wearing my pajamas. for me it is an internal activity. but not only do all these games take place in fields and plains, they always talk about the wonders of going on a voyage, the beauty of the great outdoors, the superiority of the wandering main characters to the slugs and layabouts who sit at home all day.... it's weird to me, i demand we move past these cloying pseudo-critiques. raymond williams once pointed out that the first pastoral was written from the perspective of a rentier daydreaming of cashing out and moving to a country home. i demand more games with the courage of their implict convictions and that if they require you to sit motionless indoors  for hours they should explicitly establish and argue for a value system in which this is the best possible thing that you can do. imagine if movies were all set in dark chambers full of people sitting down - i think i can say they would be much less insipid as an artform. "all of man's problems stem from an inability to stay in his room".

(images: Gakken No O Benkyou Soft Kazu Suuji, Legend of Legaia, a Chinese bootleg cart, and ...Iru!)

#gamechat #room

[daniellesayshi]

a perfectly ordinary thing happened at work today but I’ve been thinking about it all day

A woman called my desk phone today saying her sister has stage 4 breast cancer and she’s trying to find information on ‘some kind of t cell therapy’. I don’t usually get phone calls from patients, and I have no idea how this woman got my phone number as it isn’t really advertised anywhere unless you specifically google me, but she did.

I told her the name of the therapy she was describing (CAR T cell therapy), explained how it’s being used, and got her email address so I could send her some links to clinicaltrials.gov so she could narrow her search down a bit and start looking in the right direction

(this was a pretty simple thing for me to do- I’ve worked with CAR T cell trials and spend a decent chunk of time on clinicaltrials.gov as part of my job; took like 2 minutes)

The woman told me she had been calling major hospitals all along the east coast all day, and that I was the first person who actually took the time to talk to her and give her some help. She told me about her sister and some of the side effects she’s been dealing with, and how she knew this therapy could be dangerous but she had no other options and it was time to take a shot in the dark. She basically lost her mind when I told her I would email her some info, she was so happy about it. I got her email address, wished her and her sister luck, and hung up the phone.

And then I just had to sit for a minute. This tiny piece of information I had to give, so inconsequential to me, meant the world to this stranger. I honestly wanted to cry. I’ve never felt like I’ve made any sort of difference in any of the work I’ve done in my life, but today I did, and I know this is probably dumb but I’ve been in such a bad place over the last few months that this almost feels like a wake up call to me. To show that I can help people in my own tiny way, and make some small difference. I was sitting at my desk answering emails and watching the afternoon drag on when I got this phone call. My whole day improved after this.

#I might delete this #but whatever

[megmckinney]

Third week highs + Jungle Hike

We moved into our new second and final lodging the day after Christmas on Saturday, Dec 26. The following Sunday would mark the beginning of our official third week in town. As I started this blog in our third week of being here, you’ve kind of already gotten to hear some aspects of the third week.

Hmm, the third week we feel pretty steady here in Sayulita. We have our little church community, we have a couple friends that we are starting to make plans with. We are in our lodging for the next five weeks. As mentioned in a prior post, we are figuring out and have mostly figured out by the end of the week how to manage in a 1 bedroom. We understand the basic layout of town. Since we haven’t connected much with our friends yet, we are a little bored at times. We don’t know quite know what to do every morning and afternoon. We basically end up at the beach 4 days in a row in the afternoon and eating out these first four mornings, as well. I do some shopping during Summer’s naps, Matt does some work or goes surfing.

Some highlights:

I searched the streets for this one shop that we had passed that had a beautiful baby girl dress hanging in the window. The shop is called Galeria Primavera. It’s at Av Revolucion 46. Matt told me not to spend more than $50. I spent $276. I am obsessed with the clothes here. I bought two beautiful mexican dresses and one shirt. I look forward to heading home so I can wear these pieces. I am currently wearing the shirt and wore the dress yesterday but I worry about getting them dirty. I’d love to be home, get all dressed up, and then take them straight to the dry cleaners afterward.

A couple days later one of our condo mates was wearing this adorable one piece jumper. I commented how cute it was. She told me she got it in town. She gave me basic directions for how to find this shop. The next day during Summer’s nap, I went out in search of this jumper, following the directions I remembered her sharing. I successfully found the shop and found the jumper. As I was ringing up, I ran into Kristin. The same mama from the park and from my morning walk with Noralina. I had just texted Noralina that morning for Kristin’s number. Funny thing is that her, her husband Tyler, and their daughter Stella were with Noralina and her two kids. These are the sweet joys of living in a small town. Summer was asleep with Matt at home and I was free, just bought my jumper, and decided to tag along to whatever they were up to. We ended up heading to a restaurant to get lunch. This restaurant was called Anchor. They had an amazing Farm Bowl-- vegan delciousness. I felt revived. As much as i love the mexican street food, there is nothing better than fresh veggies. Tyler & Kristin drove me home after on their golf cart. After Summer’s nap, Matt and I headed to the playground where we met up with Noralina’s husband, Felix and their 4 yo daughter. Noralina & Felix own a festival clothing company called Noralina that is pretty well known! It was so interesting to hear more about their lives, their business, and what it’s like having two kids!!!

Jungle Hike - on the North end of town, even more north than our first airbnb, in fact, on that same road just parallel to the beach but as far north as it will go, you end up at a jungle hike. We’ve done it twice. The first time we were a little more cautious of getting lost and wanting to stay on the main hike area. We started uphill and followed the trail until we made one left turn, ended up at an amazing Jungle Temple. This is basically a space in the jungle surrounded by the rock stacks. These are all over SD, too, but not like here in the Jungle temple. There are over 100 hip or chest high rock stacks, a small little river the leads towards the ocean, painted rocks, and some of the hanging native artistry. We walked past and ended at the beach but continued on the trail to loop back around.

The second time we did the hike, we felt much more adventurous. We took every single off turn we could which usually ended in a dead end of some sort. One was straight up hill for a while and lead to an amazing view of the entire town. It was hilarious because by the time we reached the top, we could use the base of the music playing from town. Summer would laugh hysterically anytime Matt would slip, or if he would have to bend down to get under a branch. She loved when the leaves would brush her face. Instead of turning left where we did the first time, we continued straight down and reached where the water would be had there been a more flowing river. We walked along the river as far as it would go. It lead us to a little road that we followed and then hopped back on the trail to the beach. This time once arriving at the actual beach, we went right and walked on top and through these big rock bluffs. This lead us to a thing and narrow trail, rather dangerous, actually, and up to a different jungle hike. This hike lead us to a secret beach. Actually, some gentlemen told me not to post about this beach on the internet :/ luckily my blog isn’t really read by many. But, if you’re ever in Sayulita, I’d be happy to give more specific info about Malpasso beach. We didn’t end up going all the way down to this beach since we had been hiking around for some time now but it felt pretty incredible to have found the secret beach and seen it from above.

Another hike we did was the same route to Playa Los Muertos but instead of continuing straight through for the loop to town like I did with my lady friends, we ended taking a sharp right following a sign that said Punto Sayulita. We walked, got a little lost, hit a dead end, turned around, kept going, and then ended seeing some spooky writing (graffiti) on the walls. Things saying like: imagine if that was your last day on earth, etc. Some pictures of the white widow spider, etc. We ended up heading down a steep and narrow path to another more deserted beach. We played here for some time and let Summer stretch her legs. Upon getting Summer out of her hiking backpack, Matt had told her not to go in the water. Just to stay on the sand. She is actually pretty good at listening to us. I recommended the book No Bad Kids by Janet Lansbury to teach how to communicate in an effective way. It seriously works. Shockingly and amazingly. But anyway— Summee started having a tantrum. Crying. It was really interesting. We had also stopped giving her her pacifier since it was starting to become an addiction. She wanted it all the time, wouldn’t enjoy the wagon without it, etc. So today she had a big release. Maybe a release of being told what to do, of withdrawing from the pacifier, of moving into another new space, if not being home. Who knows. But we just loved her, held her, let her cry, and when she was done, she got to enjoy playing on the beach. She had one more of these tough days. I think it was mostly going through pacifier withdrawals but after that, and since then, she has been. She knows the pacifier is now only for the bed.

[seymour-butz-stuff]

You can be aware of the alt right and the white supremacists and QAnon and the rest of them and be concerned, maybe even scared of meeting with their violence in a specific context. But taking a deep, sustained look at the scope and reach of these conspiracy theories is something different.

Since Neiwert is my coworker at Daily Kos, readers would reasonably suspect the fix was in if I tried to write a standard book review of Red Pill, Blue Pill. What I want to do instead is sketch out four key things I learned from the book, information that will expand my understanding of not just far-right extremists but U.S. politics more generally going forward, as well as two big questions I have after reading the book—one of them an urgent question in the context of the upcoming elections.

First, let’s be clear that there’s a difference between believing in a conspiracy—and conspiracies do happen!—and believing in a conspiracy theory. Conspiracy theories, Neiwert explains, “almost universally feature qualities that contrast sharply” with the limits of real-life conspiracies, including that they allege much larger conspiracies than the generally narrow scope of real-life conspiracies and involve far more people than could ever successfully keep such a major secret.

But while conspiracy theories violate the rules of actual conspiracies, they do have their own rules, which relates to maybe the biggest thing I learned from Red Pill, Blue Pill:

What we see now with QAnon, incels, white supremacists, and more builds on decades of conspiracy theories.

Conspiracy theorists “never believe just one conspiracy theory but rather an interconnected web of them,” Neiwert writes. That interconnected web of conspiracy theories “represent a deeper truth about their world while repeatedly reinforcing their long-held prejudices and enable them to ignore the real, factual (and often uncomfortable) nature of the changes the world is undergoing.”

Today, that means a set of theories building on decades of anti-government sentiment, centuries of anti-Semitism, the concept of “cultural Marxism,” and, of course, white supremacist beliefs. You throw together “cultural Marxism” and “political correctness” and the Illuminati and general hatred of women and people of color and Jewish people, stir in a lot of bits and pieces of birtherism and 9/11 trutherism, accusations that Sandy Hook was a false flag and its victims were crisis actors, and conspiracy theories based on the same old hatreds and insecurities become something new. Pizzagate looks outlandish and then chunks of it are lifted into QAnon, which is even more outlandish, but in the new form it really takes off.

The contours of these conspiracy theories, ever shifting but drawing on so many of the same ideas and building on each other, make clear what a big, big problem we’re looking at. Any one such theory may seem fringe (until it doesn’t anymore), but the constant churn of them shouldn’t be underestimated. And understanding the degree to which they’re interconnected shows both the difficulty of breaking their hold and the importance of preventing them from taking root to begin with.

Conspiracy theorists have probably killed more people in recent years than you remember.

Many of—though unlikely all—the cases Neiwert summarizes may ring a bell. But speaking for myself, seeing Timothy McVeigh and Eric Rudolph and Stephen Paddock and Anders Breivik and Elliot Rodger and Dylann Roof and Alek Minassian and Jeremy Christian and Buckey Wolfe and Brenton Tarrant and Lane Davis one after another, with connections drawn between the specifics of what they believed, the conspiracy theory mode of their beliefs, and the crimes they committed is in itself a powerful case that conspiracy theories are incredibly dangerous. The men on this list have killed their family members, they have killed strangers, they have killed with guns and bombs and vehicles and knives, and they didn’t just do it out of nowhere. Neiwert traces the killers’ embrace of conspiracy theories and their spiraling descents to the point at which they became killers, in many cases mass killers.

Law enforcement investigators refused to connect the dots between the most deadly mass shooting in U.S. history and Stephen Paddock’s obsession with guns, hatred of the government, opposition to taxes, and interest in 9/11 conspiracy theories. “That meant,” Neiwert writes, “that the deadliest mass shooting by an individual in American history was committed for reasons that law enforcement officials couldn’t explain—to the victims, their families, the survivors, or to the public. The conspiracy theories that Paddock believed in, in this calculus, could not count as a motive.”

In other cases, of course, killers left behind manifestos explaining their hatred of the groups they’d targeted for murder, and offering a road map of the conspiracy theories woven into the planning of their crimes.

People often get into conspiracy theories gradually, but the ways people are taught to do research can inadvertently lead them into conspiracy theory rabbit holes. And social media algorithms speed the process.

As you may have read—or observed personally—social media platforms, YouTube in particular, constantly funnel you to content they think you might like, which is to say content you might click on and bring them more revenue. Neiwert quotes sociologist Zeynep Tufekci’s TED talk explaining how it works: “The algorithm has figured out that if you can entice people into thinking that you can show them something more hardcore, they’re more likely to stay on the site watching video after video going down that rabbit hole while Google serves them ads.” When people start with right-wing content, that means in practices that they quickly get funneled into white supremacist and conspiracy theorist content.

But people’s own searches for information can produce similar results. Neiwert looks at Dylann Roof’s famous, radicalizing search for “black on white crime.” Information scientist Safiya Umoja Noble has explained that Roof’s “very framing of the problems of race relations in the U.S. through an inquiry such as ‘black on white crime’ reveals how search results belie any ability to intercede in the framing of a question itself.” That is, if you search for a term that only the far right uses, you’re going to get a lot of white supremacist search results.

Information scientist Michael Caulfield suggested to Neiwert that, in such searches, “students are practicing info-literacy as they’ve learned it”—they search for a term, and then they search for factual confirmation of the first results they find, often researching quite deeply within that one mode. But what they don’t do is step back and question the framing of those results. To help people learn not to embrace false claims and conspiracy theories, Caulfield has developed a model called SIFT: Stop; Investigate the source; Find better coverage; Trace claims, quotes, and media to the original context.

Coaxing someone out of the grip of conspiracy theories is very difficult. Preventing them from getting wrapped up in CT to begin with can be a lot easier.

The big question, of course, is how we break the hold of conspiracy theories on individuals and on the nation’s politics. Neiwert makes clear that even at the person-by-person level, it is incredibly difficult. (Though he has a lot of advice for trying that may be highly relevant for friends and family members of QAnon adherents who are facing such a tough situation.) But the first step he offers is “the most effective way of overcoming the effects of ‘red-pilling’ is immunizing people beforehand.” That’s where SIFT comes in, for one thing.

Psychologist Stephan Lewandowsky also told Neiwert that a colleague “finds that if you expose people to a small dose, just like a vaccine, of the conspiracy theory up front, then it finds less traction when people are actually exposed to it. So you can educate, sort of protect people against conspiracy theories, but of course the crucial is you got to get to them first, because if you try to do it after they’ve already been exposed to it then it’s far less effective.”

#2 #qanon #trump #maga #trump derangement syndrome #q