#I was trying to install Manor Lords on game pass

[kpopisthereasonihavenolife]

Kitsune | ii. winter

Jung Hoseok/Reader [F]

Genre: Demon Hunter AU, Action, Romance, Enemies to Lovers, Japanese Feudal Era

Warning(s): Contains Violence & Blood (Semi to Graphic Depictions)

Words: 11.7k

Summary: Demons: man-eating, murderous monsters who would kill anyone for the blood of humans: be it man, woman or child.  They have no need for comrades. Known cannibalize and kill other demons if they so choose. Demon Hunters are tasked with eliminating any and all demons without question, but what would come to pass if they were told that a demon saved a human life? Views, values and relations become altered and absolutely nothing seemed human anymore.  Never sharpen a blade too much, lest you become the wounded. 

Series Index | i. demon 

a/n: you would not believe how long it took me to edit this (and I'm sure there’s still errors RIP) Kudos to my gf who were on discord the entire time while I complained about proofreading LOL.  However! Here is the second installment of Kitsune! I’m pretty happy with how it turned out and please please please tell me how you felt about this chapter!!! Feedback is key folks *clicks tongue*

t.list: @kathrynwynterbourne @tiredjedi @kaekae-93 @multycoloredtaco @sunshinechim-98 @baojinnie @perpetually-single @lexi-tries-art​ @fallingjungwoo​ 

It’s been a year since Hoseok had brought you- a demon- back to the home of his superior Lord Fuuta.  In that year he has also not once come back to that manor.  He never knew what became of you, or of that old man who was on his deathbed; in fact, he pushed you both so far back into his mind he had forgotten after so long.  He wasn’t aware of Taehyung’s actions or assignments.  The only words he exchanged with his lord were short messages of demons that plagued areas that came to him on the talons of crows acting as messengers. 

It was the dead of winter once again in Japan.  Hoseok had hardly changed when it came to his mindset and his all-around opinions. Physically, his hair had grown enough for his dark bangs to brush annoyingly in front of his eyes.  With traveling and battling being his day-to-day occurrences, he began to grow more fit as time passed.  Still wearing his keikogi and crimson haori.  His eyes also withstood the trial of time; remaining as cold as they did for as long as others could remember.

He was currently sat at a small stand selling fresh dango and tea.  Pulling one of the three dumplings off the wooden skewer, he ate silently at the bar on a wooden stool.  A clay, green painted mug of steaming tea sat to the right of his small saucer- the warmth of the beverage chasing away the winter cold.  

The stand itself was a small one- hardly the capacity for the treats to be made behind the countertop and just big enough to squeeze in four stools- making a successful business a hardship. It was located in the middle of a busy city street.  The city he was located in was far busier than any he had come across in the region alone.  

Buildings that varied from small to large with at least four stories to them. All strung with lanterns and candle lights every which direction to light up the bustling, frozen, dirt roads. Travelers trotting through the city on horseback.  Women in loose yukatas- despite the freezing weather- to tempt men and women alike into the brothel in which they were employed. Shops and stands of all sorts; from foods to antiques that were filled with items that were more than obviously fake; sellers only looking for a pretty penny for worthless trash. 

Scamming was a whole trade in itself these days it seemed. 

Fabric shops, sit down places for dining, tea houses, smiths and weapon trades, even sexual desire personified existed in the city- if you look for the right part of the city that is. The city was filled with any one person’s wants and needs if you knew just the right places to look for them. 

Hoseok hated cities.  

He hated how his senses dulled because of the constant noise and movement around him.  He had to always be on edge because even big ‘safe’ cities like this one were exactly the place where all the right things start going wrong. Population does not equate to safety; a fact that most people ignore like fools. 

If he had it his way, he would already be long gone.  However, Fuuta had contacted him via his ever-familiar crow and requested Hoseok to come to this city in the first place as well as a stay until further notice. Fuuta even prepared Hoseok room and board in an inn that was acquainted with the lord. 

Fuuta never explained why Hoseok was to come here and sit on his rear end in a waiting game with no visible end in sight.  He angrily bit and pull off his second dumpling off the skewer at the idea that this could have been an ‘order’ for Hoseok to relax from fighting.  Hoseok wasn’t one to care for himself- pushing himself over and over with injury or illness.  Some might say he was devoted to his work, others- more specifically Fuuta and Taehyung- called him a reckless idiot for never knowing when to stop.  

Taehyung used to often reprimand him for pushing his limits constantly.  Beating him to a bloody pulp in training and literally trying to beat into his head some sense.  It never worked, however.  Hoseok wasn’t always so stubborn, but after an event that sent him reeling inwards in trauma, he’s changed drastically. 

Finishing the third dumpling of his last skewer, he sipped down the rest of his tea.  Standing and ruffling out his haori to let it lay on his back with ease as he placed down yen coins as payment for the small snack os sweets.  Slightly raising the short Noren hanging on the low ceiling of the stand with the back of his hand, he left the stand behind him and headed out into the busy streets. 

It was frosty out, but no snow was coated on the ground nor was it fluttering down from the sky.  Breath chilled in clouds and the frozen dirt crunched under the straw waraji of Hoseok’s.  Ice formed in puddles of discarded water that was thrown out from shops and merchants- begging for a child to run in a playful frenzy and fall on the trackless trap. This winter wasn’t nearly as harsh as the previous had been with nearly constantly snowfall.  However, that could always change. 

Hoseok walked, weaving pass and through the tresses of people.  Holding his swords at his hip, pulling the hilts of them up towards his stomach to straighten how they sat on his side- allowing the tail ends of the scabbards to avoid unnecessarily whacking into anyone.  Any accidental confrontation with humans didn’t interest him; picking fights with people just wasn’t his thing. 

Finding his way and walking into the aged inn he had been staying, he strode through the entrance and down the halls, up to the set of wooden stairs to the second floor.  The only other floor beside the ground level the inn had. Heading down the hall he recognized the room he was provided with days prior.  Pulling the key to the room from his neck that he kept looped on a chain and slotting it into the door, he entered.  

Shutting himself inside, he was met with his room and an open window that most definitely wasn’t open when he left.  Someone, or something, must be in the space with him hiding in the shadows and doing a damn good job of it.  

Keeping his back straight as he walked further into the room with slow steps, he stopped in the center.  Keeping his movements calm, he moved his arm across his torso to grip the hilt of the one sword he always drew.  Holding the top of the scabbard with the opposite hand, he extended his thumb to click the blade out only an inch. He slowed his breathing- now stuck in a game of patience.  The air buzzing in silence as he strained to hear something- anything to alert him. 

Springing from the dark shadow of his room directly below the window, someone charged at him.  Hoseok gasped, hissing through his teeth lightly at the speed of the attack.  He wasn’t even able to draw his sword, the perpetrator’s hand clamping down over his own- pushing the blade back into its scabbard. Grabbing Hoseok’s keikogi at the shoulder with one hand, the other keeping his sword sheathed they began to overpower the hunter. 

Overwhelming Hoseok as they took steps forward, they backed him into a corner.  The mystery figure was cloaked in dark all around and a mask hid their face. Their hair was as dark as their clothes.  Only their eyes remained visible as the dim light that leaked inside reflected off them.  Hoseok’s back was pushed against the wall, the attacker’s leg hiking to push the ball of his foot into the tail ends of the scabbards and closing the distance between the two to avoid any chance of Hoseok drawing.  

Moving the hand that once held Hoseok’s shoulder, they moved to grip his shoulder and quickly stepped back and knelt a fraction.  Twisting around, they pulled on Hoseok’s collar so his chest slammed into the attacker’s shoulder before Hoseok was being flipped over their body and his back slamming into the room floor.  Hoseok sputtering in gasps as the attacker then climbed onto his chest and pressed a knife above the hunter’s eyes.  

A knife Hoseok recognized.  

He let out a breath somewhere between the lines of a gasp and a choke when his body relaxed. He coughed lightly when the attacker also began to relax.  Lifting their knife away from Hoseok’s face and moved to squat above his chest rather than pinning him down.  Twirling the weapon before sheathing it in its small sheath on their back. They chuckled above him, pulling their mask down, letting the black fabric rest around their neck. 

“You really are a pain in my ass,” Hoseok grumbled, finally gaining back his voice after the previous assault upon him.  “What the hell was that for, Taehyung?” 

The light outside shone off of Taehyung’s face.  His hair had grown far longer than the year of last, resting between his shoulder blades, twisted in a braid that threatened to unravel. Face squaring out into a more mature one of a young man.  His birthday running around in the winter season, much like he always seemed to be when the two meet. 

The younger man stood before stepped over and off Hoseok completely, leaving him to finally sit up and rotated around his shoulder and rub at his chest where Taehyung’s shoulder slammed into him.  He winced in slight pain and major annoyance.  Taehyung had moved to light the lantern hanging in the middle of the ceiling before sitting himself down in a cross-legged fashion.  

It was odd to see Taehyung in his gear, but no armor.  His completely black yoroi hitatare gear and extremely fine waraji looked empty without the cover of his armor. From a sarashi belt to his yugake gloves- all was there as he sat like he didn’t completely jump his lower-ranked ally only a few moments ago. 

“Lord Fuuta will be holding a meeting with the main leaders of each branch soon,” Taehyung started out of nowhere.  “He wishes to hold it in this city and asks that you attend.” 

Hoseok looked at Taehyung with wide, incredulous eyes.  He slightly shook his head, running the samurai’s words over and over in his head to make sure he was completely taking in and understanding the meaning of each word he said.  Taehyung’s friendly look in his eyes faded as they steeled into that of Hoseok’s superior- a line he can cross between with ease. 

“The meeting will be held in three days, allowing the remaining leaders to find their way to the meeting location. In that time, I shall have a messenger sent for you to lead you there as well.” Taehyung closed his eyes, lifting his lips in a minute quirk.  “However, the choice in which you want to follow that messenger is all yours.  Fuuta requests you there, but it is no order.” 

Hoseok was skeptical about the situation purposed towards him.  “If there is no order, why the personal confrontation about the matter.”  It wasn’t a question he spoke towards his comrade. More of a stern accusation of something that may be laying under the surface of his words. 

Taehyung just chuckled inwardly to himself.  Pushing himself up off the floor to stand, he looked down the line of his nose at Hoseok still sat in front of him.  He walked to the wooden door opening it a fraction before looking back over his shoulder to the hunter.  

“Isn’t it better to have news spread face to face with whom it may concern? Especially since we’re already in the same vicinity to begin with.” He opened the door to leave but briefly paused on the threshold.  “Oh, plus,” he started again. Voice jumping in a care-free manner with any tone of superiority vanishing.  “It will always be entertaining to tease you,” he snidely finishes.  Ducking out of the room before Hoseok could react- likely in a violent manner.  Left in his solitude, Hoseok sighed. 

His brows furrowed in thought.  He wondered if he should really attend the meeting if that’s truly what Fuuta requested.  Or if he should just leave the city and deny the audience of leaders his presence. 

“What reason would they have to summon me in the first place?” He spits in what is best described as curiosity cloaked in anxiety.  Coming off in a cold, nearly spiteful sounding, tone. 

It was the dawn of the third day since Taehyung had come to Hoseok.  The meeting gnawing at the back of his mind like an itching wound. He fought back and forth on if he should truly attend or not. 

On one hand, Fuuta did request Hoseok to attend and he was curious about who the current leaders were- aside form Taehyung of course.  On the other, he had no purpose there as a lower-ranked hunter among them.  It’s not as if he is bound by the order to go- Taehyung said so himself.  The choice was up to Hoseok, no other.  Both options fought like rams stuck in horn lock. 

Hoseok lay restless in his futon in the same room that has been that of a cell to him recently.  His distaste for cities didn’t warrant him any desire to leave the inn unless necessary.  Dressed in a kimono provided from the inn staff, a white and grey striped piece with a grey sash, he lay utterly bored.  Staring up at the ceiling and unlit lantern hanging above him. One arm behind his head, the other placed on his chest.  Futon covers pushed down to his stomach. The first dim signs of daylight began painting the winter sky orange. 

It seemed to look like another day of cold breezes and yet still no snow.  Winter was always a bland season, even covered in white everywhere one looked.  However, the lack of snow made the cold stripped environment seem worthless.  Snow brought a sense of beauty to the naked, dead-natured world at least.  It was just another ugly dystopia without a blanket of white to cover it all. 

His attention was ripped away when his window- that was closed- began to lightly rattle.  Ignoring it, he only figured it was the morning wind washing over the city in its cold breaths.  His patience was always at a low in the mornings.  The constant window-rattling that seemed to only increase in noise also seemed to rattle away at the already scarce patience he did possess. Sitting up in his futon, he looked at the offending window.  

Looking past the glass, he contorted his face in a look of private confusion.  The bare limbs he could see outside didn’t sway at all, indicating the lack of any wind whatsoever.  It wasn’t blowing. Was something else doing it, or was he simply hallucination from being inside this tiny room day after day with his push and pull thoughts.  

Pulling his legs from the futon covers, he slid out of its warmth and knelt to his knee to lift his sights higher.  He could see nothing outside his window, yet the shaking glass was constant.  He began walking cautiously towards it. 

Hoseok could see the glass shake in the frame when close enough to observe it.  Lightly touching it, the cold glass rattled against his fingertips. His brow furrowed deeper trying to think of why it would be shaking so violently.  Looking around outside the trim on the small ledge, perhaps a critter hand been knocking into it.  However, no animal was seen. 

Grabbing the frame, he began to slide it open.  Pulling the window slowly to his left inching it along.  Moving slowly as to not startle what may- or may not- be at his window. The cold sailed in like a smooth brushstroke, seeping into the warm room by the vacuum of the window opening- cold eating away at warm. The chill traveled throughout Hoseok’s exposed chest snaking down his skin like a winter wind snake. Silence and cold were all that sat beyond his window outside. 

No breeze.  No early morning mutter.  No animals chirping.  Just silence.  Eerie to the human ear and unsettling peaceful to the hunter’s mind. 

The window was fully open now and with the window being open, the rattling ceased.  He let out a breath at the silence.  Standing fully upon his feet, he dropped his guard at the halt of annoyance from the glass. 

Just as his shoulders slacked down, something lept over the outside of his window railing.  Coming out of nowhere it lept inside, landing on Hoseok’s chest with four paws planting on his skin.  Pushing into him with enough force to knock him off his feet, he stumbled onto his rear before hitting the floor with his back.  With a heavy thud, he momentarily felt apologetic to whoever may be beneath his room.  

Laying breathless half on his futon, the four paws on his chest jumped off of him with more force he didn’t exactly welcome.  Wincing, he pushed himself to twist at the waist to sit up on his left side.  Supporting himself upon his left forearm and elbow digging into the floor, he held his chest with his opposite hand, lightly gasping back the breath stolen from him. 

Looking at what just pounced at him unnecessarily his eyes widened seeing a fox in his room with him.  It wasn't a regular fox either.  

Two twin tails swayed at its backside.  The pure white coat of fur with red decorating its forehead and tail tips in nearly flawless spirals.  Its paws licked with minuscule flames of blue that did not spread or did the flames burn Hoseok’s skin when it touched him only moments ago.  Eyes of gold piercing- nearly glaring- at him.  The fox was no bigger than the average work dog.  Hitting Hoseok at least at his knees in height.  

Despite its size, the intimidating aura buzzing off the demon fox would make anyone be on their toes in anticipation of an attack or any sort of quick, uncalled for action. 

Of course, his weapons lay behind the fox.  Leant up against the wall, cut off from his reach.  Hoseok cursed under his breath.  If this fox were to pounce again, Hoseok would have to depend on brute strength and quick thinking maneuvering to claim his swords. 

However, the fox did not move into any further advancing positions.  Instead, it just sat down.  Ears twitching and tails swaying, it simply sat and observed Hoseok.  Hoseok also observed back, not daring to move yet.  Caught in a deadlock of eye contact, no party moved a muscle until the fox got back up onto its paws and trotted to the wall were his haori hung.  Turning it’s back to the wall to once again face Hoseok, it sat below the haori. 

Hoseok’s brow rose in an inquiry.  The fox only continued to stare once again.  The way its tails whipped seemed like a gesture of invitation for Hoseok to change into it.  

“My haori,” he started speaking in a whisper.  Watching the foxes ears twitch.  “Put it on?” To his utmost shock, the fox bowed its head in a single nod at his question to which he was not expecting an answer to.  Though it wasn’t so unusual as the fox was demonic- it wasn’t like a normal wild animal. “Okay,” he breathed out in a long, low syllable.  

Slowly maneuvering around his room, he began to change.  Discarding his kimono and changing into his keikogi, pulling his haori of crimson over his shoulders.  Tying his obi sash around his waist, he pulled his waraji over his tabi socks and slipped his swords onto his hips.  Dressed just as any other day that has passed or that may be yet to come. 

The fox had moved from where the crimson haori once hung back to the open window.  Tails still waving past one another and gaze almost hypnotic when Hoseok resumed eye contact.  Hoseok turned to look at the fox with narrow eyes.  He never thought he’d be unintentionally following the orders of a demon fox.  He scoffed lowly at himself.  Stopping close to the fox in the window, it soon turned and jumped back outside.  

Looking out, Hoseok saw it sitting on a wall of stone just below the window ledge- only a leap width away.  Looking back at him in a silent way of instructing him to follow behind.  He had no reason to oblige this fox; however, had no reason to deny it either.  

Hopping from his window to the same wall the fox adorned, Hoseok followed. 

Climbing walls, rushing through alleys and hardly seeing a soul in the extremely early hour, Hoseok scowled.  He half-believed this demon fox was just leading him around for a lark- as foxes are more than a bit mischievous in bare nature.  Not to mention each time it looked back at him over its fur-coated shoulder, Hoseok swore it sent glares directed at him instead of confirmation he was still trailing on its tail.  

This fox was nagging on his nerves; that he was certain of. 

He wasn’t sure why he didn’t just get rid of the fox in the first place.  It was a demon after all, but just the thought of killing it put a bad taste in his mouth.  The line between what is animal and what is demon blurred- which has never happened to Hoseok before. He knew what he followed was without a doubt demon and it irritated him. 

Following blindly, Hoseok wasn’t even paying attention to his surroundings anymore.  Reacting purely on instinct and reflex as he kept his eyes on the foxes back. Soon, it stopped running before halting and jumping directly upward.  It’s back in front of his eyes before he halted as well.  Looking up, the fox now sat up on top of a tree limb.  Stretching and dragging its claws on the bark just barely before relaxing again and looking down to the annoyed hunter and his furrowed brow.  

The air change around him seemed to finally alert Hoseok that he just moved to a whole new location.  Gasping inwardly he averted his sights down and his eyes widened.  It was like he was in a whole new place out of the city; even the scenery wasn’t that of the winter season.  The weather was warmer too.  He looked around.  

Trees of wisteria surrounded the compound he was brought to.  The compound was elevated above the ground of stone and lush greenery like winter hadn’t touched it in a long, long time.  Much like that of the home of his lord with summer chimes ringing lightly with the breeze that wafted over the estate.  The smell of wisteria flowers that bloomed in purple surrounded everything.  

Moving his attention back to the fox, he saw it glaring down at him.  

“Where did you take me you damned fox?!” Glaring down at him further, the fox got up from it’s sitting position and hissed at him.  Ready to jump down from its tree limb to pounce on his chest again after accomplishing its task of bringing Hoseok to this location.  Its body stopped it’s future violent charge when it sensed someone walk onto the wooden railing porch of the compound. 

“That is enough, girl,” a familiar voice spoke.  “Come on back here now.”  The fox stopped it’s glaring at Hoseok, turned towards the compound and jumped from the tree.  Bounding the distance from the limb to the wooden railing, it landed with grace as a hand reached out to pet at its head.  Relishing under the touch.  

Hoseok looked at the person who spoke and shook his head in small swivels before pushing the ball of his hand against his forehead.  Looking at Taehyung call, command and even show affection to a demon fox flabbergasting him to an extreme.  Taehyung just laughed at him as the fox looked back at Hoseok, no longer glaring- but examining. 

“What is that face?  I told you I’d send a messenger in three days.” 

“You didn’t tell me the ‘messenger’ was going to be a demon!” Hoseok countered with a spiked fury, stunned Taehyung was loitering around a demon in the first place.  The fox’s ears bent back in agitation before they folded back in relaxation again when Taehyung placed his hand back on its head.  

“I didn’t need to.  Besides, what does it matter?  You followed her regardless of her demonic nature instead of attacking her.  I knew if she returned alone, you wouldn’t attend.” 

“I could’ve killed that fox, you realize that right,” Hoseok deadpanned.  Taehyung scoffed, patting the fox once more before folding his arms inside the kimono he spared.  His hair unbraided and resting on his shoulders and back.  

“She’s nimble and crafty.  The most you could’ve done to her is graze her fur.  She would’ve been fine if you lashed out violently. I have the utmost faith in her.”  Hoseok gapped at the confidence Taehyung boasted towards the small fox in front of them.  Taehyung looked down to said fox.  “Go head on inside.  We’ll call for you later, alright?”  The fox looked at him and nodded one low bow before jumping off the railing and running behind the samurai inside the estate.  

Hoseok shook off his shock before he sighed.  “Where did that thing bring me, Taehyung?”  Hoseok still not sure exactly where he was.  Too much happening far too early and too quickly for his brain to catch up completely.  

Taehyung smiled before he started to head back inside, only stopping to invite Hoseok inside with him.  Hoseok followed behind him, both men silent despite having tons of topics to talk about.  Hoseok only kept a cautious eye on his long-time friend as Taehyung kept a small smile on his face the entire time he weaved through the compound.  

“This is like Lord Fuuta’s home,” Hoseok spoke to himself.  

“It isn’t wrong to think that,” Taehyung replied to him.  “It is one of his private locations.  It’s hidden by a barrier, keeping it warm like spring.  He comes here often when his health warrants it.”  

A barrier.  Hoseok nodded.  It made sense- it would explain why it was so warm here and why the flowers and greenery blossomed so excellently.  Stuck in the bloom of spring- it was a nice time of year to stop the flow of time.  Hoseok’s eyes widened, becoming aware of something.  

“Taehyung, is Lord Fuuta here?”  Taehyung just stopped in front of a shoji door, constant chattering behind it.  “Taehyung?” 

Taehyung just slid open the door and walked inside, Hoseok following at his shoulder.  Inside was a group of six people.  Among them, Fuuta sat in his ever-constant glory.  He smiled warmly when his eyes set on Hoseok.  

“Hoseok, I’m delighted you decided to come.”  Hoseok just raised his brow, narrowing his eyes in confusion.  Fuuta just shook his head slightly with a small smile.  “Taehyung, you neglected to inform him, didn’t you.”  

“I can’t help it, my Lord.  It’s far too fun to tease him,” Taehyung sung cheerily.  If not in the presence of his lord, Hoseok would’ve clobbered Taehyung over his head for the comment.  Taehyung turned to his friend he had continued to string along- although he wasn’t fully to blame.  “Hoseok follows me without question anyhow.  It makes it easy,” he teased.  Hoseok was glad he learned self-restraint years ago.  

Taehyung left his friend’s side, moving to take his place at a table sat in the middle of the room.  Sliding into a zaitsu chair among the other six; however, there was still one open chair left.  

Fuuta moved to stand, the other’s coming to a stand with their lord in respect.  

“Welcome to the leader meeting of Demon Hunters, Hoseok.  Please, take a seat next to Taehyung if you would.”  

Hoseok stood dumbly still among the meeting.  Fuuta and Taehyung being the only two faces he recognized.  The other five were completely new to him.  He froze being put into an environment with so many strangers with gazes focused solely on him- the outsider. 

“Are you deaf, boy?!” Hoseok jumped when out of the stagnant silence a gruff voice boomed at him.  Yelling in a belittling tone towards the hunter.  The tacted on ‘boy’ referring to himself made his brow tick down in a pulse of annoyance.  Looking, it was a monk who was now glaring at Hoseok who had raised his voice. 

Even when sat down in his chair, the man was a massive specimen.  Broad shoulders with excessively muscular definitions that pushed along his body and made the kimono covering him look pathetic in its own threaded fabric patterns; his kashaya over his shoulder a golden shade.  The monk was bald with eyebrows condensed to the point there were only two small ovals above the inner corners of his eyes.  Carrying a staff with him- it being tucked under his elbow as he sat- it was iron made with a jewel fused onto the circular top. 

Hoseok suspected this particular monk happened to be nastier than a man among men who people would seek openly. 

“Well?!” He shouted again.  Hoseok caught a few other leaders rolling their eyes.  “Are you ignoring our Lord, or will you do as your told and sit, boy?!” 

“You’ll scare him away yelling like a mad man, Bunji,” the only female attendee spoke in a diversely calm tone. Her voice leagues below the loud echo of the monk- addressed now as Bunji.  Hoseok wondered if he spelled his name with the kanji characters meaning child or govern, seeing as he wasn’t anything childlike- the chance of irony almost made his lips quirk. 

The woman who addressed the monk was shot a warning look by him. She sat calmly, eyes closed and posture straight as Bunji’s staff.  Dressed in armor much like Taehyung’s, only fitting more to her feminine body.  Armor fitting and curving her breast as she sat on the left side of Taehyung. She was obviously the female counterpart to the male samurai sat next to her across the table from the monk. 

Bunji slammed his large, rock palm on the tables wooden surface in a fit.  Absolutely no reaction came from anyone aside from Hoseok who still stood at the door.  Rowdy and obnoxious behavior must be the normal- odd to see coming from a monk.  So much for spiritual ease and relaxation such as meditation.  

“If an outsider is frightened off, so be it!  Such a low-ranked soldier should not be present!” 

“He is here under Lord Fuuta’s request,” snapped the small, nimble man dressed fully in black beside Bunji.  Jet black hair, sitting with his arms and legs crossed.  “Do not object to our Lord’s wishes.” 

Bunji seethed as another gentleman in simple kimono garbs spoke towards Taehyung down the table.  

“Shouldn’t you speak up?” 

“I won’t,” Taehyung replied.  “Anything I say will sound like favoritism since I know Hoseok personally.  I’ll abstain from any comments regarding him.” 

“That is a very wise and mature decision, Master Taehyung!” Bunji shot off in a tone completely new. His condemning demeanor vanishing and being replaced with one of pure agreement when shot at Taehyung.  The switch of his attitude nearly giving Hoseok major whiplash. 

Hoseok spun in confusion- hypothetically speaking of course. 

A few claps from the head of the table and Fuuta calmed all present bodies.  Lowering his arms back down to the table, he smiled his normal, calm smile he seemed to always have painted on his face. 

“Please do not allow Hoseok’s presence to hinder the tasked meeting at hand.  Proceed just as usual if you would.” All were quiet as they silently agreed, no one disagreeing with their Lord. The once chaotically charged room simmered down as Hoseok finally made his way to Taehyung’s right.  Sitting in front of the black-clad, small fellow and now missing the condescending look shot at him from the monk diagonally across from him. 

In a few moments of silence, attention was shifted and gathered as the meeting finally began. Hoseok was clearly out of the loop, not comprehending most topics covered.  From field reports to medical updates and deceased count.  He winced when he heard how many of his fellow Demon Hunters have died since the last meeting held- whenever that may have been. 

Once all regulated discussions were ruled out, Fuuta dismissed the meeting- only temporarily, however.  He asked that the group of 6- Hoseok included- come to the small, miniature shrine and torii he had erected at the rear of the compound.  Claiming he had something to show and discuss with them all.  

Taehyung seemed to be the only body without a puzzled expression as to why and Hoseok could tell from the minuscule smirk he bit back that he knew what would be waiting there- what the thing is Fuuta wants to discuss is. His attitude did seem altered, even a few days ago when he snuck up on Hoseok- something hid under his task of ‘just inviting’ him. 

Once dismissed with Fuuta leaving first, Bunji was quick to catch Taehyung before he left as well.  Hoseok at his back as per usual.  

“Master Taehyung, might I speak with you?!” Yet more loud respect drawing out of the burly man's mouth directed only at Taehyung.  

“Perhaps later, Bunji.  I have other matters to attend to now.”  Taehyung shot him down without a breath of hesitation.  However, the massive monk was not at all pressed by the blatant rejection.  

“Of course!  Excuse me then!” As quickly as he flocked to Taehyung’s side, he left. Hoseok moved to stand beside his friend now.  

“What is with all the ‘Master’ titling?” Hoseok bit in attitude. 

Taehyung shrugged.  “I haven’t a clue, but he’s called me that since he met me.  Perhaps it’s because I’m ranked above him in terms of skill. Or, maybe he simply knows how to respect a man as handsome as myself.” 

“Oh, please.  Could you be any more humble?” Hoseok rolled his eyes as Taehyung chuckled to himself, leaving the meeting room and remaining leaders behind.  Hoseok took the time to finally ask who each leader was and what they command.  Taehyung hushed his curiosities until the two had moved to the private silence of his quarters- a fresh cup of warm tea in Taehyung’s palm. 

“Curious about the others?  You have every reason to be I suppose,” Taehyung chuckled.  “Then, listen carefully, Hoseok.”  Hoseok nodded, sitting with Taehyung on the cushions he had placed on the floor- finally beginning to introduce each leader.  

First, was the monk Bunji- leading in spiritual expertise. An expert when it came to exceedingly advanced and potent mantras for demon extermination.  Skilled with his jeweled staff for exorcisms and many sutras kept in the chest of his kimono as his weapons for battle.  Though his stature is intimidating and larger- when pushed into physical combat, be it with a demon or otherwise, he was not so skilled.  Out of the five leaders, he was ranked the fourth; as well as the newest leader welcomed into the fold- the previous priest dying overseas. 

Next, was the only female member among the mass of men.  The onna-musha, or female warrior, called Kaori.  Descending from nobility, she fights alongside men and has clawed her path up by annihilating any competition that stood in her way; beating men who snubbed or doubted her strength into submission to secure a path of future loyalty. A fierce, nimble and talent-flexible woman, she was a force to be reckoned with.  Respecting Taehyung as her senior and male counterpart, she self-proclaimed she will one day surpass him and be the top swordmaster; not just second best.  Ranked third among the other five. 

Then, there was the bluntly rude and cold shoulder of the ninja leader.  Almost always seen covered head to toe in his official garbs of pitch-black combat, he believed his work never halts and was prepared for any outcome that may lurch his way. Constantly on guard and doesn’t seem to have a joking bone in his body.  His calm and analyzing demeanor deemed him a practical genius in the field.  He often clashed with Bunji and his boisterous attitude.  His name was Takaki.  Ranked first and head of his comrades.  The best candidate for the overall leader after Fuuta;  however, he’s expressed adamantly he does not wish for the responsibility and declined the position offered. 

Ranked the fifth of the leaders for his lack of physical strength and combat skills was Tsutsui.  An expert on anything medicine and poison.  He was responsible for treatment locations as well as keeping the tally of those that have fallen. An entire mass unit of medically trained men and women is what he oversaw as he kept the conditions of any and all hunters filed away- even Hoseok’s.  His role among his peers was absolutely vital and without him, more hunters would lose their lives.  However weak he may seem, if pushed into a corner- his extensive knowledge of potent toxins and poison he creates could gain him an upper hand in battle as well as an opening to escape. 

Finally, was Taehyung himself.  The top samurai and swordmaster among them and ranked second of five.  With Takaki’s refusal of Fuuta’s position as the head leader later in life, Taehyung was to be his new successor.  When Hoseok learned that he was shocked.  He knew Taehyung was strong, but not so strong he was Fuuta’s protégé.  It made the gap between them feel wider than the mouth of the greatest canyon Hoseok knew of. 

Taehyung took the last sip of his tea, concluding the leaders’ introductions to Hoseok. “Does that answer any questions you may have had about their identities?” 

“I… suppose.  I still do not admire that monk, However.” 

Taehyung laughed.  “Yes, well, Bunji leaves that impression on nearly any new face he comes across.  You do not need to be friends, but he is technically one of your superiors.  Grit your teeth and at least try and co-exist with him.” Hoseok scoffed as Taehyung set his clay mug aside, moving to stand and pat down his wrinkled kimono.  “Speaking of co-existing, let us take to the back shrine.  Lord Fuuta is waiting.” Hoseok only nodded unsurely, standing and striding in time to Taehyung’s steps.  

His mind buzzing at what could be waiting for him- and the other leaders- at the shrine at the rear of the compound. 

When Taehyung and Hoseok arrived, only Takaki and Kaori were present.  Kaori offering a prayer at the miniature shrine as the two men arrived under the small torii gate.  Soon after, the remaining two leaders appeared- Bunji being apologetic in the loudest way possible only towards Taehyung for arriving late; or rather, arriving later than Taehyung did.  Hoseok still inwardly curling at his obnoxiously loud boasting. 

Then, their lord arrived- his wife by his side.  Shiro carried with her a folded parasol clearly designed and crafted from the continent.  Brilliant red with flowers painted on the bamboo arms and handle.  Those present lowered their heads to the two of them.  Some drawn speechless at Shiro’s presence such as Bunji who had never properly met her before and only heard of her from Fuuta. 

Taehyung was the first to lift his head and move towards the two, walking to stand at Shiro’s opposite side and taking the parasol from her, opening it to shield her head from the sun. Unknown to the others, Taehyung had been with the couple a vast majority of the last year.  Growing close to both as he trained and prepared with Fuuta more each day to one day succeed him.  All was still as they stood among the wisteria- until the breeze shifted.  

With a shifting wind, a blue fire ignited along the ground; circling the group of leaders- excluding Taehyung- and Hoseok. The trio of Fuuta, Shiro, and Taehyung standing calm and safely outside the flames as they had absolutely no reaction to its appearance as opposed to the initial panic from those inside.  The flames rose high, licking at the tree limbs in height and keeping everyone inside; trapped in a fiery cage. 

Instinct drove everyone as they immediately took to their weapons.  Staff ready, stances rigid, swords and knives were drawn from scabbards and sheaths.  Multiple eyes scanned the fire surrounding them before something sprung from the flames. A human-shaped demon leaping straight from the aqua flames, those same flames coating its entire body like armor.  It’s heels connecting harshly with the largest target’s chest- Bunji’s.  

The force making the monk stumble backward, the demon came to a near kneel on his chest before pushing off of him, flinging themselves back into the area of the rest. Kaori was the first to act- deciding that since the demon was small in stature, she would be the best physical match.  

With each strike Kaori offered the demon evaded.  Bending back and ducking below horizontal slashes and rolling out of the way of vertical strikes.  Rolling around to Kaori’s back, the demon took to the ground like an animal before harshly slamming their palm into her ankle- kicking it harshly out from under her.  Stuck between a fall to the ground and a step to save her fall, the demon shoved Kaori under her shoulder blades and pushed her out and through the flames. 

Covered in a shroud of its own fire, the demon turned back to the remaining men inside its fiery trap.  Bunji, still holding his chest from the demon’s initial action of spring-boarding off him, acting next in a fit of hurt pride. 

Moving his hand from rest on his chest, he slipped it into his kashaya.  Throwing sutra charms at the demon he drew from his wardrobe, the demon moved to burn them before they could touch its body.  Manipulating the flames around its body like flexible armor. Getting nowhere with his charms, and throwing his lack of expertise when challenging someone much more nimble than he aside, he charged and began swinging with his jeweled staff.  Just as with Kaori, the demon evaded- in fact with Bunji’s slower time the chance to evade and strike was fruitful.  Taking each evasion and adding a tap to his body and moving around him, he soon found himself immobilized.  

Frozen like a statue as he staggered to his knees- body paralyzed from the taps to his pressure points.  Pushing their chest to the ground, a tail of flame pushed under Bunji’s chest and lifted him up and over the wall of flames, throwing him cleanly out. 

Sadly, Tsutsui was absolutely no help in a short-handed, up-close fight with nothing he could use on his person as a defense.  The demon was easily able to rid him of the battle circle by simply taking hold of his arm, levering it over its shoulder and tossing him outside with enough force to knock him into Bunji’s still immobilized body outside.  

The demon screeched when something pierced through its flame-like armor and punctured its shoulder. The fire around its body seemed to diminish just enough as the sai that was sticking out of its shoulder burned in the flames.  The demon seethed as it turned to Takaki, standing with one of his two sai’s in hand- the other lodged in the demon's shoulder. 

Charging at the ninja, the two moved as if engaged in a dance.  Flames swirling around the two as Takaki evades just as well as the demon did.  Missed strikes, tumbles, and rolls, jumping and leaping to and away from the fire of azure.  It was a standstill until Takaki managed to get behind the demon and take hold of his lost sai, ripping it out of the demon’s shoulder.  Another ear-piercing scream before it’s attention was forced off of Takaki and onto Hoseok.  

Sprinting away from its previous opponent, it shoved it’s shoulder into Hoseok’s chest, knocking his sword out of his hand, the second one of his being ripped from his side and tossed across the ground away from the action- still held in its sheath. Hoseok eyed his own blade’s metal laying above his head as he was shoved to the ground.  The second one was no use- even if he was closer to it, he would not draw it into battle.  

The demon pinned him as Hoseok held its wrists.  Hovering claws of fire singed his hair as the heat pulsed into his nostrils and burned his lungs as he breathed.  The demon was stronger than most men he sparred with.  The fire of the demon's armor rippled and something akin to familiarization shot through Hoseok.  Clenching his teeth, he pulled his legs up between the two, wrapped them around the demon's midsection- burning his keikogi in the process- and twisted his hips to push the demon sideways into a downwards roll.  Allowing Hoseok to control the momentum to turn the tables and effectively pen the demon down in his previous place.  The flames becoming diminished by the dirt below, Hoseok looked at the face of the demon recognizing it.  

“You are-” 

“That’s more than enough,” Fuuta’s calm voice sounded behind Hoseok.  When Hoseok turned his head, the fire was gone and it was peaceful at the shrine once again.  As if the circle of fire was never there to begin with. Looking around, Bunji was being treated by Tsutsui to get him moving again and Kaori was dusting herself off and rotating her ankle that was harshly palmed earlier on.  Takaki was sheathing his sais as Taehyung stood at his side- assuring him danger wasn’t around anymore.  Fuuta and Shiro stood directly behind Hoseok who still pinned the demon- much less on fire- down. 

Looking down, Hoseok saw the face of the demon who had been on the attack.  The flame armor vanished, and beneath it all sat a simple, almost human-looking demon.  Small red tattoos run to a point along the curve of her cheeks and she was dressed just like Shiro- only her kosode of white was paired with a Hakan of royal blue as opposed to Shiro’s red Hakan. Hair a mess beneath her pinned state as Hoseok glared at her fox golden eyes.

“You’re that demon from a year ago,” he muttered more to himself than to you. Hoseok was soon shoved off of you, as you brought your leg up and slammed your heel into his gut, extending your leg to throw him clear off you, landing in a puff of dirt dust.  Groaning he moved to sit, rubbing his head as Taehyung was soon beside him, offering him a hand up and both of his swords back to him. 

The group watched as Shiro knelt to your side, sitting you up and pulling your Hakan loose just enough to inspect the damage inflicted on your shoulder from Takaki’s sai earlier.  The wound seeped steam and small rolls of blood that stained your kosode.  Fuuta- pulling a cloth from his kimono- handed it to Shiro to press along your shoulder.  You hissed when her cloth-covered palm pushed into your flesh. 

“It is nothing serious,” Shiro told you softly.  You only kept quiet and sat still. 

“My Lord,” Fuuta turned when called by Takaki and his harsh voice.  “I’d like to know the situation, if I may be so bold to ask.”  The edge in the ninja’s voice certainly wasn’t one of inquiry, but sharp agitation instead. 

“Of course,” the lord smiled with a small breath.  “I was not planning to keep this a secret from you all.”  Fuuta turned to Shiro.  “Take her inside for a change of clothing.  She’s covered in blood, dear.”  Shiro nodded as she took your arm, gently lifting you to your feet.  Some leaders still stood rigid at you on your feet.  

Shiro began leading you inside as Bunji finally managing to speak- his voice previously locked with his body.  “Should we allow Lady Shiro to be alone with that demon?!” His voice rough in his attempt to gather his previously lost breath. 

“Do not be ridiculous, Bunji,” Taehyung started.  “That demon is practically harmless,” he spoke calmly, his arms tucked into his sleeves.  Hoseok stood beside his smirking friend as Fuuta agreed with his protege. 

“It is true.  Y/n poses no threat to Shiro, nor I or Taehyung.  In fact, she isn’t a threat to anyone here, so rest assured.” 

“That cannot be so.  She just attacked us, My Lord.  She is plenty harmful,” countered Takaki- still enraged from the single demon ambush. 

“She acted purely on my instruction.  She was told not to permanently harm and did as she was told, she did not.” 

“You offered more harm than anyone else did, Takaki,” Taehyung countered. 

“I only did as I’ve been trained to do.” 

“Do not get swept up in an argument,” Fuuta warned.  “Allow me to explain further.  Come, children. Let’s return inside.” Fuuta headed back to the compound, the rest following with a breath of hesitation.  Hoseok stood frozen in pure confusion as Taehyung tapped at his shoulder.  Ushering the hunter to follow- any questions he had would be answered. 

Fuuta had once again gathered his leaders and Hoseok in the meeting room. Everyone sat in tension- aside form Fuuta and Taehyung that is. 

“As you all witnessed, Y/n is a demon. A year ago, it was Taehyung and Hoseok who brought her to me upon request.  Since then, Shiro and I have trained her as a weapon to defend humans and fight back against other demons.” A mumble of simultaneous shock filtered through the room. 

“That’s impossible!” Interrupted Bunji. “Forgive me, but I cannot believe a demon is fighting on the human side of this war!” Bunji quickly kept the remainder of his objection to himself when Taehyung shot him a look of silencing. 

“When she was first brought to me, Shiro and I placed a certain type of spell on her.  A specific obedience charm.  Now, she is as human as a demon could possibly be.  That being said, she is absolutely unable to kill any innocent or defenseless human who offers her no harm.” 

Kaori slowly raised her hand to summon attention to herself.  “You say innocent, defenseless humans.  Does that mean anyone guilty of a crime can, in fact, be slane by her?” 

“Correct.  Say, for instance, she crossed paths with a band of thugs looking to rob, assault, or even kill her.  She would have free action to defend herself and if killing them means sparing her life- so be it.” 

The room was silent again.  The tension was nearly tangible.  Fuuta continued when it seemed no one else had a qualm to speak of. 

“Y/n is a fox demon and between the three of us- myself, Shiro and Taehyung- she seems to favor and obey Taehyung the most.” Eyes shifted to the samurai.  Hoseok remembered the small fox that brought him to the compound that Taehyung has claimed to ‘send’ as a messenger. 

“Is she the same fox that I followed here?” Hoseok asked Taehyung.  The samurai nodded one deep chin touch to his chest with a smile.  

“She is.  I asked her to bring you.” 

“Another example of her loyalty to humans,” Fuuta added.  “She left and willfully returned when she had the prime chance to flee from us all together since she was without supervision.  Over the last year with Y/n, we have grown to trust her.” Fuuta sighed at his leaders' stoic faces. “I do not expect anyone to accept her fully; however, all I ask is not to antagonize her.  Shiro and I consider her a daughter we were unable to bare now.” 

With his final regards, Fuuta dismissed himself, leaving the rest to ponder.  

“Can we really trust a demon?” Kaori spoke softly- a whisper like a flower petal. 

“Of course not!” Objected Bunji, quite the opposite in loudness. 

“If it's what Lord Fuuta wants, I don’t see the harm in accepting her.  He did acknowledge her and showed he was able to speak commands and have her listen and obey them at the shrine.  When he said enough, that was it- all was over and she stepped down almost immediately.”  Tsutsui spoke as he stood himself up.  “I’m willing to give her the benefit of the doubt out of respect for our Lord.  As fellow leaders- you should all consider it as well.”  He excused himself as Takaki left in silence- not adding his opinion on the topic of you personally on his way out. 

One by one, the room was cleared out- each person leaving with uneasy emotions until only Hoseok and Taehyung was left. Sat in silence, Taehyung heard the rattling of Hoseok’s sword shaking in its scabbard as he held it so tightly his knuckles whitened ghostlily. 

Taehyung knew so many who hated demons, but he doubted no one's fury ran as deep as Hoseok’s.  Knowing he was part of why you were here when he and Taehyung captured you a year ago, it no doubt crawled under his skin.  After what Hoseok has lost to demons, he’s justified to feel the way he does- complete and utter contempt towards your existence. 

Taehyung only reached out and pressed his fingertips into Hoseok’s neck- almost instantly settling him back down.  

“Do not dwell and calm down, Hoseok.” 

“How can I?” He bit. 

“Blame me for working with Y/n if you want, but try and understand Fuuta’s decision.  Y/n is not the enemy, Hoseok.  I promise.” He left soon after his small discussion with his long-time friend. 

Hoseok shook his head to himself.  No matter how he wished he could- he could not blame Taehyung.  He could not hate his best friend and he couldn’t put the burden of his feelings onto Taheyung’s shoulders either.  

Clenching his jaw, he cursed himself as he sat in his own deafening solitude- his constantly sheathed second sword tight in his palm. 

A week went by and slowly each leader left the compound- one way or another coming to terms that a demon was considered a comrade at this point in time.  However, all agreed that if they see you as a threat at all or at any point- they would not hesitate to lop off your head. 

Hoseok still remained in the compound, Fuuta explaining that he needed to calm his distress before going back out onto the field.  Hoseok respected his wishes and stayed put as told.  If he so much as caught a glimpse of you, he’d stop and recede back in the opposite direction.  He’d instantly be put into a sour mood- so he avoided you at any cost. 

He currently sat in his room on the second story of the compound, boredly sitting at his window- staring out at nothing but frozen in time wisteria blooms.  His attention shifted when voices below his room on the second floor were heard. 

“You’re awfully moody.  What’s wrong with you?” Taehyung spoke as Hoseok heard.  His head lifted at his friend’s voice.  

“It’s nothing,” A woman.  One voice Hoseok didn’t recognize well.  

“Do not lie to me, Y/n.” Hoseok rolled his eyes as his head lowered back down.  Boredom engulfed with immediate annoyance. 

“I want that human out of here.” 

“Be more specific. Everyone in the compound is human besides you, you know that.” 

“That stupid hunter,” you bit.  Hoseok furrowed his brow knowing you had the audacity to want him gone.  

“Hoseok?” Taehyung questioned as you only scoffed at his name.  “Listen, he’s here because Fuuta asked him to be here.  You know that.” 

“Excuse me for not wanting to be in the same vicinity as the man who put me into this situation.” 

“Y/n,” Taehyung’s voice hardened.  “Disliking Hoseok for bringing you to Fuuta is wrong.  I was the one who knocked you unconscious, carried you back and delivered you.  Hate me if you are still dwelling on the past.” Hoseok flinched at the cut in Taheyung’s voice.  Scolding you for bringing up that night last winter. 

“That isn’t fair,” you fought back. 

“Why isn’t it, then?” 

“You don’t treat me like a-!” The conversation halted into silence.  Hoseok sighed, his eavesdropping seemingly finished.  

In a flash, a hand grabbed his open window ledge before you vaulted into view. Hoseok knelt on his knee as you threw yourself into his room.  Laying flay on his back, he ducked under your body that jumped into his room- originally wanting to tackle him down.  Rolling into his room, he was thankful to finally have his sword nearby.  Drawing it, he flipped it around so the dull edge faced you.  

Lunging at him, he whacked away your open claws aimed at him with the dull of his sword, allowing him to side-step behind you.  Reaching out, he grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking you backward and pulling you down to the ground.  Yelping, you were soon back first on the tatami as Hoseok pushed his knee into your gut, hand releasing your hair to push his palm over your throat and the other holding the tip of his sword above your eyes. 

You both glared at each other.  You kicked, trying to buck free.  The pressure on your throat increased due to your struggle, Hoseok’s way to keep you pinned.  

“Stay. Down.” Hoseok hissed.  

You bore your fangs at him.  Grabbing at his blade, your palm cutting open as you moved the blade to the side forcefully out of your face.  Your other hand grabbing the wrist of the hand of Hoseok’s on your throat, lifting it with enough force to allow you enough air to speak again. 

“Get off me, human,” you growled. 

“Give me one good reason why I should.” The blood dripping from your enclosed hand around his blade gathered in small droplet puddles beside your head, bleeding and staining the tatami.  Hoseok was momentarily astonished that your blood was red- just like his. 

You both were locked in a deadly tangle, neither letting up.  Hoseok kept you pinned down and exerted more pressure anytime a single one of your muscles twitch- you just itching to move.  You continued to growl at him as he nearly growled back out of sheer spite. 

There was a murmur of commotion outside his door and down the hall.  Both of you drowning it out to favor the ringing of rage in your own headspaces.  The shoji door slammed open as Taehyung froze for but a moment seeing you both at each other’s throats- literally. 

“Hoseok! Y/n!”  His voice hit new levels of baritone as he ran into the room and forcefully picked Hoseok off you.  Getting behind him to lift his arms under Hoseok’s, he pulled him up and took steps backward- backing the both of them away from you.  You- finally having the freedom to move- quickly sprung off your back and crouched low to the floor.  

Ready to aim low just like a wild predator would.  Taehyung saw how you hadn’t calmed down yet, so slipping loose the waraji sandals he didn’t have the time to take off in his rush inside, he kicked it off towards you.  Taehyung could even make a simple, straw sandal a weapon as it rotated with an illogical amount of speed in the air before it hit you square in the face. 

Yelping from the sudden sting, you dropped down defenseless as you held your nose and forehead, the waraji falling to the floor at your side.  Taehyung sighed seeing your shoulders slacken. 

Taehyung twisted the upper half of Hoseok’s body just enough so he could step in front of him and slam his knee into his friend’s stomach.  Hoseok- erupting into a stuttering fit of coughs- took to his knees as Taehyung released him and Hoseok held over his sore stomach.  Taehyung picked up and sheathed Hoseok’s sword, placing it away from him as he walked over to retrieve his waraji, taking off his other because only hooligans wear their shoes inside. 

It wasn’t too much longer before servants of the compound caught wind of the futile scrap and came rushing into the room.  Ready to see a violent fight between the hunter and demon ally, they were only met with both of them on their knees with Taehyung vehemently standing over the two.  He glared at the servants' late arrival. 

“By the time any of you got here, someone could’ve been seriously injured,” he scolded the staff as they flinched down.  Taehyung sighed, knowing that they weren’t truly at fault.  He directed his sights back to you and Hoseok who now both sat recovered and completely faced away from each other.  “An explanation please,” he demanded. 

“He should know,” you scoffed.  “He started it.” 

“I- what?!” Hoseok shrieked. “Listen, Fox, I did not do anything!” 

“You did! You eavesdropped on our conversation! Ever heard of privacy or manners before, human?!” 

“Y/n,” Taehyung warned.  You immediately silenced any further argument and rose to your feet, palm still dripping small drops of crimson.  Heading towards the servants and open doorway, you stopped when Taehyung called at your back.  “Where are you going off to now.” 

“Anywhere as long as I am away from him,” you announced before walking passed and away from the servants and Hoseok’s room. 

“Hoseok,” Taehyung called, looking back at the slouched down, agitation hunter. 

“Do not bother.  I don’t want to hear it.” 

Taehyung only sighed as he left the room, shooing away the servants and shutting the shoji to his room at his back- going to return his waraji back to the entrance landing.  Hoseok looked at the blood droplets stained onto his floor before scoffing and returning to stare out his window.  Far less relaxed now than before. 

You slid open your room door with enough fury to fling it out of its groves- metaphorically speaking of course.  Stepping inside and slamming it shut behind you with just as much fury.  You immediately began pulling your kosode loose and stepping out of your Hakan.  Stepping behind the byobu screen you kept in your room, you practically ripped off your clothes. 

You couldn’t stand to have the smell of that human- Hoseok on you.  The scent bled right through your clothes and you’d rather bare your breasts to the winter chill than smell like him.  As you threw your kosode over the byobu, someone entered your room without announcement. You- of course- knew who it was.  Pulling a spare kimono littered in red spider lilies from the wire on your wall, you began to change into it.  

“Go away,” you said sternly. 

“Request denied,” spoke back Taehyung. 

“I was not asking.” 

“Well, I am still not listening.” 

“Taehyung-” 

“You know attacking Hoseok was wrong, don’t you?” You were silent.  “I have no doubt your back feels like it’s on fire by now.” He was correct.  The burned talisman on your back would begin to abuse your body when you attacked anyone out of reason.  You could feel your skin pulsing under the searing pain of your back.  “You know that I need to tell Fuuta about the incident, correct?” 

“Yes,” you whispered as you fastened your obi. 

“I’ll vouch that Hoseok became offensive and you weren’t completely at fault, but you need to learn to control your temper around him.” 

“I know.” 

Taehyung left after that, leaving you with a scorching back as you collapsed to your knees in your spider lily kimono, baring the punishment of your uncalled for brawl with Hoseok on your own. 

Hoseok was called to speak with Fuuta early one morning unexpectedly.  He thought it was strange that it was Shiro who called for him, standing in front of Hoseok's door and asking for him to follow her back to her beloved husband.  Something about the air around her seemed tense as Hoseok got up and began following at her back.  Stepping lightly behind her, she spared no time to even look around the halls she leads him down.  She only kept her eyes down, just enough to see the toes of her tabi-covered feet with each step forward.

Coming to a stop at Fuuta's personal room door, she announced herself before opening the door and stepped aside in the hall, allowing Hoseok passage inside.  She herself stayed out in the hall, bowing lightly and shutting the shoji at Hoseok's back slowly before he could hear her feet padding off back up the hall. 

Hoseok saw his lord sat at his desk that was built directly from the wall.  A calligraphy brush in hand as he painted pitch black words onto an open, flattened and unwrinkled scroll.  Dressed in a kimono much different than his normal elegant ones, his hair completely free of any ties or restraints.  He turned to look at his hunter and let a small smile grace his lips. 

"Please, take a seat," Fuuta gestured to the empty cushion to his left.  Hoseok bowed a fraction before obeying him and folding his knees under himself sitting down.  His palms sat on his thighs as Fuuta resumed with his brush strokes. "I have a favor to ask of you.  Of course, I would like to ask Taehyung of the same favor, but I thought it best to run it by you first, Hoseok." 

"How come, my Lord?  Taehyung is your successor, is he not?  Why would you address any issue with me first?" Hoseok pondered as Fuuta lightly chuckled.

"True. Taehyung is like a son to me now.  He's invaluable, and he is also exceedingly loyal.  He'd do anything I ask even if he thought it ridiculous." He held his kimono sleeve with his opposite hand as he reached his arm over his table and dipped his brush in more ink.  A lock of his black hair falling over his shoulder.  "However, you are different.  You're a man of many rules and strict do’s and don'ts.  With that said, you're free to refuse my words if you so choose."

Hoseok furrowed his brows as his open palms began to curl.  "If I may, is this perchance going to involve that demon fox?"

"It is."  Hoseok bit his tongue to keep a rude scoff and eye roll at bay.  He was in front of his lord.  He cannot be rude nor can he be rash. "I know you and Y/n do not mix well, as are both of your natures.  Y/n has hated humans for a long time and you feel the same towards demons.  You both see no reason to side with each other and that isn't wrong considering both of your situations." 

"That demon's situation is no concern of mine," he said with a tone as cold as the winter air. 

"Yes, I know you feel that way.  However, this request of mine is something of importance.  I fear something tragic will take place soon."

"Something tragic?  What do you mean?" Hoseok's back shot straight as a rod.  Fuuta only shook his head.  "Lord Fuuta, what's going to happen?"

"It is not something for you to be directly involved with.  Shiro and I have been expecting this for a long time." Fuuta stopped his brush strokes and placed his brush down, setting the painted bristles over the ink jar.  He then turned towards Hoseok, looking him in the eyes.  "We wish that you and Taehyung take Y/n out of the compound."  Hoseok nearly flinched as Fuuta directed his eyes downward, back to his desk and a smile pulled his lips in the most saddening way Hoseok had ever seen.  "I've said before that Y/n is like a daughter to us both.  Taehyung considers her a young sibling and she herself has long since felt the bond and warmth that a family can bring.  You do not know it, but even that child is capable of smiling."

Fuuta stood and walked to his window, cracking it open as the sky that was covered in grey clouds would soon be spilling individual flakes from above in the afternoon. The birds of winter singing far too chipperly in the freezing weather. 

"For what's to come, I cannot honestly say." 

"Taking her off the compound is only half of the mission, isn't it Lord Fuuta?"

"I only expect you and Taehyung to have her experience more locations. She is a demon fighting for humans, she shouldn't be kept inside her entire life where the battle cannot come.  Anything after that is solely up to Taehyung."

"Taehyung? Why him specifically?" Fuuta only shook his head, turning to look down at Hoseok and placed a single finger over his curled lips. 

"That is a secret, little hunter of mine."  He gestured for Hoseok to stand and offer out his hand. Doing as instructed, Fuuta pulled something from his kimono and placed it into Hoseok's palm.  A glass flower- a crimson spider lily.  "Your final task is to take care of that small flower. Can you do that for me, Hoseok?"

Hoseok nodded even when his head was fogged with confusion. When Fuuta dismissed him, he was passed by Taehyung in the hall.  Taehyung seemed to completely ignore Hoseok's presence, rushing past him and down the hall.  Hoseok ran into Shiro again and this time instead of just bowing at him like she normally would, she stopped him. 

Silently grabbing his wrists, she placed his hands together between her own and closed her eyes.  Opening them again, she looked up at Hoseok. 

"Please, look after my girl."

Hoseok blinked down at her and before a response could form on his tongue, she dropped his hands and continued on her way.  He looked at the glass flower still sat diligently in his palm.  Just the sight of the flower made his throat constrict- like he was on the verge of tears. 

Just what was going to happen that Fuuta and Shiro were worried about?  What were his leaders and best friend hiding from him?

[delicrieux]

idiot

PART 2 OF WON’T HE?

PAIRING: felix rosier x reader

summary: (name) comes to stay at the rosier estate for the last days of summer ;)

a/n : the amount of SUPPORT i had made me CRY. THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS PART EVEN MORE! A COUPLE OF THINGS TO NOTE: this takes place before jacob’s siblings fifth year, felix is in the same year as bill (for legality reasons lmao), i know nothing abt his mother. ALSO! i tagged everyone who commented on the previous instalment, i hope that’s ok!! THANK YOU SO MUCH TO MY NEW BEST FRIEND @slytherin-princess1FOR MAKING THIS AESTHETIC AT 3AM WHEN SHE SHOULD’VE BEEN SLEEPING <3 ily bitch

feedback is always appreciated xoxo

MASTERLIST.

The Rosier estate rings true to the letter Felix had sent you so many moons ago: tall, gloomy, and surrounded by looming pine trees it relishes in its solitude. The heavy gates wad off pesky visitors, the glimmering eyes of the silver serpent on its lock following your every move. The sky is grey. Everything has a sort of pale glow to it. The resting summer heat had melted into the trees, the air now restless and chilly. You pull your jacket closer to your body once a gush of wind tugs on the strands of your hair. A lump forms in your throat. To call the Rosier estate anything but intimidating would be an understatement.

That or, perhaps you are simply nervous. You had never travelled so far to visit a friend. You had never stood in front of a boy’s home, alone. And you hadn’t told anyone you are to stay with Felix till the train to Hogwarts demands for you at King’s Cross. You had only briefly mentioned it to Penny in a letter, offhandedly mumbled something to Ben in a telephone call (telephone…fascinating!). Rowan does not know, and it is best it stays this way. Bill, too. Not even your own family is familiar with your whereabouts. You had told them you are staying with Tonks. Why? Why lie?

Your heart skips pleasantly when you see his figure emerge from the manor – he is so far his body is merely a smudge in the monotone background. Why, because no one would allow you to visit him without another friend by your side; because no one would allow you to associate with Felix outside of Hogwarts due to the rumours about his family and their supposed involvement with the Dark Lord himself.

He strides to you in quick, long steps. When he is finally close enough to make out his face, you smile at him shyly, and he gives you a curt nod, the corners of his lips quirking upwards ever so lightly. He takes out his wand and in one graceful motion the gates rattle open, a burst of magical energy passing your body and sending a shiver down your spine. Somewhere behind you crows croak and flap their wings, a ward of them spilling into the sky like black ink.

Finally, you get a good look at him. Out of his robes he appears even leaner, though still handsome to boot. His eyes glimmer in a silent hello, and overall he seems pleased with your appearance, if not a bit tired. Tugging your suitcase behind you, you enter the grounds and pebbles crunch under your feet. The gates slowly swing to a close and the serpent locks itself once more, solid as steel. This sure is a change from the Burrow, you think, your mind shimmering with happy yellow and orange images as you glance around the quiet, grey and green scenery. Felix puts away his wand. He then reaches for your suitcase and you promptly release it, almost frightened that he was to touch your hand. Feeling a bit silly, you smile awkwardly as he takes your suitcase, unhinged and unbothered. No magic required. Just pure curtsey. He is, if anything, a true gentleman.

“We don’t get many visitors.” He suddenly comments; you had been so enraptured by the far away white marble statues that you completely forgot to talk, “You are the first one in years.”

It sounds like typical small talk, just something to fill the air with until the two of you reach the manor, which is quite a stretch away. Though, Felix is not one to make small talk. His voice betrays nothing but polite inquiry, yet it still manages to ignite a pleasant flame within you. You grin at him, your attention now on him and on him only, “It’s an honour.” You say, genuinely. He glances at you, though abruptly sets his eyes straight. He tries, and fails, to fight off a smile.

“Have you had a look at the list I sent you?” He asks, referring to the letter. You nod.

“There were…quite a few things.” You recall, “Though, most of them contain studying—“

“As they should.” He hurriedly intervenes, “Your exams are just around the corner. Mine, too. As Head Boy, it would be incompetent of me to suggest anything but.”

“Felix,” You start, “right now you are not Head Boy. You’re just a boy.” You grin, “And it’s summer.” You glance up, “Lookin’ a lot like autumn right now, but I swear to you it was sunny when I left.”

A soft sigh leaves his lips, “Just as I expected…You will find other ways to entertain yourself.”

“A brought a few muggle board games.” You agree, “Ben recommended them to me. Have you ever heard of Monopoly? He is terrified of it. Said it destroys families. Ends friendships.”

He sends you a sly look, “We have nothing to worry about, then.” as he opens the main door to his home. You raise a brow, confused. Does he mean your friendship is strong enough to withhold Monopoly? If so you are delighted. However, that may also imply that you are not friends at all. Which makes you bitter. Which is it? Oh, that absolute twit. Begrudgingly, you follow after him.

The main hall is airy and lavish – though the decorations are sparse, they are expensive and picked with care. A mixture welcoming soft colours. It is a stark contrast between the outdoors. You feel as if there is an attack on your senses – your ears pick up bits of music, your nose tries to distinguish scents of cologne and musky perfume, your eyes try to adjust to how bright the interior is. You try not to awe at the pale statue of Aphrodite by the stairwell, cladded in sea shells and looking as beautiful as tales had described her being, but alas, fail. With no luggage weighting you down, you twirl to examine the statue up close.

“It’s a real shame, you know.” You start, quietly, your voice a rasp whisper, “That you don’t get many visitors.” You manage to peel your eyes away from the goddess and meet his dark gaze, “Your home is beautiful.”

“Really?” He raises a bored brow, “The word I’d use to describe it is…dull. Though…I suppose the audacity of it fades after a while. That is, until you get to see it through another’s eyes.” With a pleased smile you turn back to the statue. “Perhaps you are right.”

“Of course I am. Everyone needs to walk through a museum from time to time. I mean, really now, often do you get to see something so pretty?”

His eyes linger on your back, wistful.

“Quite a lot, actually.” He says thoughtfully. You figure he is referring to his home and snort.

“Right, well, not all of us live at a place that has an inner and outer courtyard.”

He smirks, “Really? It is quite common within the pure-blood families, so those aspects are hardly measures of wealth or status. You forgot to mention the Grand Library and my father’s Private Library, and—“ You narrow your eyes at him, crossing your arms over your chest. That only plays into his amusement. “Should I make a list?” He inquires in a peppy tone.

“Oh, yes, because we all know how much you love those.”

“You hadn’t mentioned of a visitor, Felix.” You freeze in your spot from the chilling, low, though calm, voice of a woman. Wide-eyed and shaken, you whip your head upwards to greet what you presume to be his mother. The resemblance between him and her is striking. Your eyes meet hers and you gulp, “I assume you forgot.” She drones, almost lazily. She descends form upstairs in a slow step, her right hand gliding down the railing whilst the other holds a pipe.

“Mother.” Felix greets, his voice void of any prior chipper it had had, “This is-“

“(Lastname).” She states, her attention on you unwavering, “I know. It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss (Lastname). Your brother was quite the character. I expect nothing but great things from you, just like I expected of Jacob.” She smiles at you, though the smile could not be anything but pretentious. You do not like it, “I’ll leave you to it. Do be nice to (Lastname), Felix.” She sends her son an icy glare, “Do not embarrass us.” With that she saunters away, in the same lazy sway that is neither slow nor quick. Before long she disappears down the hallway and her footsteps melt into the soft melody coming from the walls.

Felix turns to you, worry tugging on his heartstrings. Your eyes bore into the place his mother had gone, your jaw tense and arms crossed tightly. You are, by all means, a laid back a fun person. But anything having to do with your brother makes you intense and vulnerable, determined, though secretly unbelievably hurt. He knows you well enough by now that his mother’s comments have struck you deeply, and he will now reap what she had sown.

“I can explain.”

Your eyes peel off the empty space they had been staring in, now fixed on him in a hateful, angry look “You better.” though your voice betrays nothing but tired sadness.

***

You are led to one of the many guest bedrooms that is as impressive in its size as it is in its decoration. Though, the previous adventure driven wonder of seeing something new and shiny is replaced by a deep seed of unease and anxiety that blooms into a flower with roots strong enough to choke you from within. Nothing else interests you, not you being alone in your bedroom with Felix, not the amazing view of the gardens outside the window, not the upcoming exciting year at Hogwarts. Your pace had been tense and you could not stop fidgeting. Your foot taps impatiently, fingers pat pat pat on your sleeve. Once Felix puts away your suitcase he takes a seat on the comfy bed, bouncing a few times before the mattress settles. You remain standing.

“My mother” He starts, his eyes wandering around the room, “used to be a teacher. She taught Defence Against the Dark Arts during the years your brother had attended Hogwarts.” His gaze lands on you and your arms fall by your sides, “She is one to favour students, and Jacob was the brightest wizard in class. He was a role model, to me and many others. Though, when he came to know about the Cursed Vaults…you know how the rest of the story goes. Though, I do firmly believe that my mother adored him even more because of it.” Felix admits, “She did not teach long, because of…” His eyes wander to his wrist and you understand him perfectly. The Dark Mark. Whilst it does not adore his flesh, you did note a tattoo peeking out the side of the silky garment his mother was clothed in. With a soft frown and a sigh you plop down next to him, your shoulders brushing his. “That is why…” his voice is quieter now, more careful, “my first attempts at befriending you were…highly encouraged by my mother.”

“You mean harassing me for house points?” You inquire with a strained smile. He snorts.

“No, that was just me looking out for my house.” But he smiles all the same, though soon he falls back into the thoughtful expression he wore prior, “My mother thought she was in debt to your brother. That I had to look after you because of it.”

Your eyes go wide in surprise. This is a revelation, one you did not want to find out. The root of anxiety squeezes tighter and you look away from him, “So…Am I still some… project to you?” Your voice comes out a whisper, a question you do not entirely want an answer to.

His hand comes to rest of the side of your jaw, firm on your soft skin. He tilts your head to face him, his finger caressing the side of your lips, almost absentmindedly, as his eyes wander from your eyes to the line of your hair to your mouth and back with a small, dazed smile, “No, not at all. I never thought of you in such a way, (Name).” You blush like a rose under the morning light. Your mind whirls like a bizarre storm of confused feelings, though none of them are unpleasant. The proximity, his touch on your skin – all of this is new, though not intrusive. Your lips part to take in a breath of sweet air, your eyes never leaving his own. Such a mysterious, hypnotizing gaze.

Though the soft, near loving, smile soon melts as realization dawns onto him like sunlight after heavy rain. His hand falls from your cheek and he scoots away, just an inch, so the two of you would no longer be connected. His touch still lingers in the tingle on your skin, the erratic beat of your heart. You are so out of it, you hardly realise he is looking away, a rosy blush blooming on his cheeks.

“Well, I’ll leave you to unpack. I’ll come find you later.” He blurs, abrupt to stand and leave. Your eyes follow after him, though you are unable to say anything. Once the door is shut sharply it all finally crashes down onto you. Dust settles. Silence. Not a sound. You bounce on your mattress, a stupid grin blossoming on your lips. With a giggle, now full of excitement and glee, you fall back into the sheets and relish in this new found happiness.

The next few days are spent in a similar fashion: exploring the house, and the boundaries of your friendship. The first day is spent at the gardens since Felix knows you enjoy Herbology. He shows you around the impressive plot, it growing and blooming with healthy flowers and bushes, bees, butterflies, and other insects living in perfect harmony. He has trouble naming some of the more complex species when you look at him so…How? Wondrous and loving, hanging onto his every word. You seem to enjoy the sound of his voice more than the pleasant silence that comes after it. The two of you had walked around for a long while, you wondering aloud just how many statues must a wealthy family have. He, with a snort and a roll of his eyes, though good-naturedly, replied with ‘a whole bloody lot’. The second day of your stay was exploring the Grand Library and the parlour. The library was more of a maze, and even more silent than the rest of the house. It held a scent of coffee and old parchment, enchanted it must have been because with one swift inhale you became instantly focused. The parlour was more fun. It turned out to be the source of the music. Grand and lavish, just like every corner of the estate, it was open to all dancers. You had mock practiced your steps, but he refused to join you. Instead, with a book he had grabbed from the library, he made himself comfortable on one of the couches, occasionally glancing at you swaying to the rhythm of waltz with an invisible partner. An odd thought had occurs to him that he should have asked you to last year’s dance. Who had you gone with? It had been some pest from Gryffindor, but not a Weasley. Why on earth hadn’t he saved you, he had no clue. He should have asked you. That is all he could think about as words swam in his vision.

You have grown to love the lonely rooms of this manor, and you already felt sad to leave. Tomorrow you and Felix will take the first train to King’s Cross, from which you will proceed to find the rest of your friends and be on your merry way to Hogwarts. But it somehow does not seem as fun as it had nights before. Spending time together had made you cherish his presence, crave it even. You knew that at Hogwarts the two of you will be pulled away from one another, by work or by others….

But does it really have to be that way?

You eye him, lying in your bed and examining the plans the two of you had conjured an hour prior. The Cursed Vaults. You had not forgotten them, frankly it is the only thing you hadn’t forgotten whilst being with him. The two of you had sat down to plan meticulously, just like he had suggested you would. This will be his first exploration of a Vault, one you believe is hiding somewhere in the dungeons. With all the evidence collected, the two of you had drawn a map and some possible scenarios.

It is well past your bedtime, deep into the night. Dim lights flicker by your bed, warm and glowing. The window is open to let the chilly night air in, though it is still impossibly warm. You feel like being honest. Perhaps it is the inky darkness behind the window whispering to you. Perhaps you are simply tired. Alas, you take in a small breath of encouragement before starting, “I’ll miss you.” That catches his attention and he halts sits up, “Harassing me for house points.” You add awkwardly. He seems to relax, releasing a breath of a laugh and putting away parchment he had been invested in.

“Don’t worry, I will send an owl weekly to stay informed.” He replies slyly,” Though, there is still a whole year before that.” He reminds you, and you smile.

“I know.” You shrug, “But I’ll also miss your home.”

“You can always come back.” He says seriously and your heart jumps pleasantly.

“Really?” You ask, sounding more eager than you wished. He either does not notice, or simply does not care.

“Of course. My mother would love to have another go at you.” He says. You wilt a little.

“And…” You fidget with the paper, “And would…you like me to come over again?” He stares at you intently and the silence makes you nervous. Feeling heat caressing your cheeks, you look away and await his response. Are you too forward? Will he interpret your question as another friendly gesture? It certainly sounded like an underlying confession to you, but perhaps he did not catch on. You bite your lower lip in worry; roll it between your teeth. Your eyes wander to the empty cups of coffee standing idly by your feet. Had you drank too much for your heart to race so quickly? You never took yourself to be a shy one, though clearly you were wrong.

“I especially would like you to visit.” He says, meaning every word. You gulp, “After all…there are plenty of places you have yet to see.” His eyes twinkle mischievously, “My bedroom being one of them.” He comments slyly, meaning it as a jest but seeing your flustered expression makes him take a mental step back and assess what had just left his mouth. Awkwardly, he mumbles, “I was joking.”

“It’s not funny.”

“Yes, I was told my humour need improvement.” He ponders aloud, rubbing the back of his neck, “But I do mean it all. Except the bedroom part.” He sends you a nervous glance. You continue staring at the plan that was seemingly the most important part of this meeting just minute prior. “I will miss you too, though.” He says after a while, “It will be strange to finally leave Hogwarts. I have grown quite attached to it. And to…” His voice dies down in his throat when you finally look up at him, “And to…And to you.”

As peculiar as it may seem, his words do not catch you off guard. It is like he is voicing something already known, plain and clear, some belief that only needed reassurance. And there is no sudden crash this time, just familiarity, no surprise, just a pleasant tingle and airy lungs. Your breath hitches in your throat as a smile blooms on your lips; you watch him watch you in the dim glow of the room.

“Is that a confession?” You tease, unable to withhold you glee. He refrains from rolling his eyes, yet grins all the same.

“Depends on your answer.”

You scoot closer, and he does to. The plan, now entirely forgotten, proves to be no obstacle as it slides off the sheets and slumps on the carpet. His hand, once again, finds the already familiar position of grasping the side of your jaw, his thumb slowly running over your cupid’s bow. His eyes, dark pools of brown, wander from yours to your lips and back, “Answer. Now.” His breath comes out a hiss, his tone somewhat impatient and strained.

“Just kiss me you bloody idiot.”

In one swift motion his lips crash onto your own with enough passion for you to melt right there and then.

 BONUS:

King’s Cross is a hectic mess of people colliding with one another or their luggage. A concerned Rowan Khan stands on her toes, narrowing her eyes behind her glasses in search of a familiar face in the crowd of bumbling, excited students. Bill Weasley stands just as uneasy as his friend beside him, his gaze roaming in search of you. The first whistle had already gone off, and another will soon follow as a heated warning to all of those loitering in the station to hurry up. Have they missed you? They wonder in union. Bill turns his gaze the opposite direction where a swarm of Hufflepuffs hop onto the train. Perhaps you went to find Penny before he and Rowan, he ponders.

Rowan spots you. Her hand was already reaching for Bill’s sleeve but it halted mid-air as her lips slowly parted in disbelief. You stand with Felix Rosier, hands linked and sharing heated whispers about secrets only the two of you know of as fellow Slytherins help carry your luggage. It feels as if lightening had struck her; she stands frozen in horror. How? When? Why hasn’t she heard about this? Felix laughs quietly as you complain about one thing or another, most likely Griffin screaming in her cage.

“Rowan, I don’t see her, maybe she—“ Before Bill can turn and see the horrid sight, Rowan jumps into his vision with a strained, frantic grin, grasping his hand in her firm hold and levelling his gaze. “Rowan?” He asks, concerned.

“I…I think (Name) was eaten by a dragon. We should go.”

What was meant as a joke, a gesture to soften the blow of upcoming heartbreak only makes it worse. It resonates with Bill, the ache of first love, and he is chillingly aware of what those words really mean. Rowan tries to stop him from looking over his shoulder with a whine, but he ignores her. A part of him wishes he hadn’t.

There you stand, glowing with happiness, as Felix kisses the side of your lips before excusing himself to go to the Head Student compartment.

Bill is an idiot. Rowan said this will happen. He is real bloody idiot.

He should have told you.

He really really should have told you.

(IN BOLD ARE THOSE I COULDN’T TAG)

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[dougcook]

I wrote words and created sentences to review a game that came out months ago!

               “He will remember that.”

               Well, I goddamn hope so.

               I’ve never played a Telltale game before. I’ve heard they’re great. A lot of people talk about THE WALKING DEAD (Seasons 1 and 2), but I passed because I don’t much care for THE WALKING DEAD. It took me too long to realize GAME OF THRONES was a Telltale game and not a cheap tie-in, and by the time I did I learned the big ending and wasn’t particularly interested anymore. I’ve never played BORDERLANDS so TALES FROM THE BORDERLANDS was never really considered. I’m always intrigued by games that have a shifting plot based off of your choices – HEAVY RAIN got a shot years ago because of this, I fell in love with MASS EFFECT partially due to how skillfully it builds on your choices over three games [1], and I randomly took up LIFE IS STRANGE to see how they did it, even though it was an unknown to me.

               But I know Batman. And in the wake of an uncertain future for Batman video games following Rocksteady bowing out after ARKHAM KNIGHT, I was eager to try BATMAN: THE TELLTALE SERIES.

               Alright, so I’m not such a big gamer that I can talk about gameplay for long, and it’s not a huge factor for me. I mean, I need the gameplay to work and be fun, but beyond that there’s not a huge difference. And while I think there’s a lot BATMAN: THE TELLTALE SERIES has going for it that the Rocksteady games don’t, the gameplay is nowhere near as fun or engaging. The QuickTime event nature of its action makes them tedious to me, and anytime I had to move Bruce or Batman around is was mostly frustrating. And I despise the game forcing me to highlight circles when investigating things with the right joystick, it feels so damn awkward, like being asked to write with my non-dominant hand.

               Thankfully, the game’s real interest to me was its story, and how it developed behind my choices. And this is clearly Telltale’s bread and butter. There’s a lot of spoilery stuff to unpack here, so probably stop reading if you haven’t played and want to remain spoiler free. Or don’t. I don’t care, do what you want.

               So the game’s real strength is its use of Batman lore against the player. And it’s undoing as well. It starts off well enough, by introducing Oswald Cobblepot as a handsome, thin young man around Bruce’s age, and an international criminal. It takes a canon idea (the Cobblepots and Wayne’s as rival families, until the Cobblepots crumbled, leaving Oswald bitter), and takes it in a fresh direction of establishing Wayne’s equal and inversion in all ways. It’s fun!

               This even applies to the big thing I presume people being pissed about: Bruce learns that Thomas and Martha Wayne were in league with Carmine Falcone and corrupt Mayor Hill, and that specifically Thomas is the brutal evil mastermind, committing enemies to Arkham Asylum for petty reasons, such as Esther Cobblepot simply to gain her land for the construction of Wayne Tower. Guys what a great idea! By casting the shadow on the memory of Bruce’s parents, it forces the idea of Batman to be analyzed: why does Bruce do this then, if his memory of his parent’s morality was a lie? (This gets compounded when it comes out that Thomas and Martha’s deaths were a hit ordered by Hill, and not a random mugging). Where does Bruce’s moral code come from, and does it remain afterwards? This is, of course, not really a chance for Bruce Wayne to grapple with these thoughts, but a chance for us, the player, as we dictate what kind of a man Bruce/Batman is.

               This takes me back to a memory of a coworker and I discussing THE DARK KNIGHT RETURNS. I really love the book, I do, but I’m not blind to the unfortunate fascistic implications of the book’s portrayal of Batman. He has power and takes more because only he can be trusted with, etc etc. My coworker didn’t see this as troubling – he’s Batman, he is the only person that can be trusted with power. He couldn’t see that, while the fictional character as written by a person is pure and always makes the right choice, that’s not a lesson we as people can take and use in our lives. Superheroes work best as Aesops, and too much Batman fiction gives into the power trip of the character. It comes from the base root of everything, this intrinsic idea: the trauma instilled Bruce with a hardline moral code that makes him incorruptible. BATMAN: THE TELLTALE SERIES forces us to reconcile how that moral code can remain intact when the cause is shown to be even more impure. I find it interesting so many players make choices as Batman that are more merciful when faced with this.

               It’s a shame the things we don’t control are borderline too much. Like the Rocksteady games, it’s a pretty tough sell that Batman doesn’t accidentally kill anyone with his roughness. Batarangs enter eyes; heads slam against walls. I want to applaud the game’s desire to show violence as brutal, I just don’t know if I have it in me to go through anymore crime scenes where people’s eyes are gouged out.

               Oh yeah, and the game seems to have an obsession with eyes. Batman gives Catwoman a black left eye after punching her; the lens on the goggle on that same eye is broken in the next episode, along with Batman’s left eye. Alfred’s glasses are found with the left lens broken, and he can possibly lose that eye by the end of the game [2]. Penguin at one point dons a…um, thingy that looks like a monocle, leaving his left eye open. Falcone is shot (oh yeah, he gets offed so much earlier than one would expect) with a shot to the left eye. So does Thomas Wayne when we finally get the required Wayne’s death scene. And of course, there’s the Harvey Dent scarring, a major part leaving his left eye uncovered, ala THE DARK KNIGHT [3]. The game’s central focus seems to be on secrets; everyone’s got ‘em, and nobody’s what they appear. Except Gordon. Fucker’s a rock in Batman fiction.

               The first three episodes of the game move at a breakneck pace, with things getting wilder until the third episode’s climax, which reveals you were being played the whole time by…Vikki Vale? Um, cool? It’s not that it breaks canon (I’ve shown a fondness for that so far), it’s not that it’s left field (it’s foreshadowed very well in retrospect), but…like, how the fuck does somebody become Gotham’s Lois Lane while secretly planning…huh, not super sure what her end goal was besides screwing with Bruce Wayne. The fourth and fifth episodes continue to fly by, with fun cameos [4], explosive moments, and some heartfelt scenes. But ultimately, the climax falls short due to Lady Arkham/Vikki Vale just…not being interesting. It works, story and theme wise, to fight her as Bruce Wayne, but it’s so muddled what motivates her and what she really wants. It’ so unclear she comes across more like throwing a tantrum. And to have an interesting version of the Penguin as her number two, and even a Two-Face who’s betrayal stings so much due to a strongly developed friendship with Bruce both playing second fiddle to Lady Arkham, well, it’s disappointing.

               The game starts strong, and ends with a bit of a dud. But its highs, man they’re really high. A quick-hit of amazing stuff in this games: Bruce throwing down the Batman cowl and yelling at Alfred, accusing him of lying about his parents; Bruce and Selina Kyle fight off Penguin’s goons in a bar to, well, jaunty bar music; Bruce pulling off the “I’m about to be caught as the other man in a love triangle so I’ll tip-toe away carrying my clothes to hide” move while carrying the friggin’ batsuit; Batman and Two-Face have a showdown in Wayne Manor; Bruce reassuring a despondent Alfred he’s not to blame for the game’s events.

               BATMAN: THE TELLTALE SERIES can delight and make you weep, but only when the villains aren’t around. Rating: 14 out of 17 Stolen Waynetech Grapplers

[1] – There’s a handful of series in fiction that are so tightly wound together that I never engage with a single installment out of context – I begin the series at its start and I go until it ends. HARRY POTTER, THE LORD OF THE RINGS films, and MASS EFFECT are the three examples I can name without hesitation. I’ve played through the three MASS EFFECT games straight three times. [2] – I confess, this didn’t happen in my play through, I simply read about it after. [3] – I consider it a true delight that I could’ve avoided Harvey getting scarred, but that’s another “armed with canon” moment for you. I assumed it was gonna happen, thus I was complicit. [4] – Let’s talk Joker down here briefly. I liked him, mostly, interpreted as like, that awkward, nerdy guy you knew in college with the weird sense of humor. His knowledge of everything Lady Arkham comes across as 80% “get out of jail free” card, but it does kinda fit. He’s…aight.