#it's getting kind of annoying especially as they introduce more characters that Should have muscles but you know they won't

[leezuhh]

i do appreciate their commitment to making arlecchino as butch as possible when she's not actually on screen

[fictionalmenmakemecry]

We Have History Together

Requested

Characters: Stefan x Reader

Summary: Stefan and reader have a project that due but get distracted in the process ;)

Includes: Smut , swearing

I always been interested in history, it's always been one of my favorite classes. Since the beginning of the school year, I've been struggling to keep my mind in check when it comes to wandering thoughts. Saying that, these thoughts might have something to do with the new person in our class. Stefan Salvatore. He's been getting the normal amount of attention when it comes to any new victim of this school. He seem to keep to himself mostly. Over the last couple of weeks, it's been particularly harder to keep focused as we have been put into groups for class project and you guessed it, Stefan and I were put together.

At the start of the project, things were kinda awkward because I knew nothing about him. But we slowly start to get comfortable with each other as every history class was us working on our project. It being a big percentage of our final grade, I wanted to ace this. As the weeks went on, he would do little things that I never expected, like bring me my favorite snack when he knew I was going to be late for class and forgot to bring lunch. He would bring me his favorite history books that he thought I would enjoy. We really did start becoming close friends. But I knew I had other feelings that I wanted to ignore. The more time we spent together the more I started to notice how good he smelt, especially when he leant across to grab something on the other side of the desk. I would be listening to him and suddenly get lost in his green eyes and how his lips looked so sof-

"You okay?" He asked looking into my eyes.

"Uh-h yeah, sorry, in my own world there." I chuckled feeling my face get warmer wondering if he was on to me.

"I just didn't get enough sleep last night" I lied.

He glanced down at this book and smiled "Okay, well for the conclusion I think-"

"Sorry guys, just to let you know the library will be closing in 15 minutes, we close early on Sundays" The old grey haired librarian spoke softly as she walked past our desk.

"Oh shit, yeah I forgot" I said looking down at my phone

"Well, if you want, we can go back to my place and finish the last few things. I don't think it should take too long" He offered as he closed his laptop and packed his things away.

My heart sped up when he mentioned his place, what the hell is wrong with me. I needed to get ahold of myself if I'm going back to his place. I cleared my throat not wanting my excitement to show through.

"Totally, that sounds good" I nodded

We both got into our own cars and I followed him until we got to his place. I wasn't expecting much but his house was this gigantic Tudor mansion. I couldn't believe my eyes. I felt my hands getting sweatier as we got closer. I got out of my car, still looking around in amazement trying to figure out how rich he was.

We never really talked about life outside school. So I really didn't know much about his life.

"Holy shit" I said quietly to myself but he manage to hear making his way towards me as he chuckled to himself.

"It's not what you think. I'm not rich" He said still smiling at me

"Then wha-" I gestured at the grand building in front of me

"It's a long story" He interrupted me

As we walked towards the house, I could sense him getting fidgety beside me which is so different compared to his calm confident self.

"Before we go in, I'm just warning you that I have a brother, Damon. He can be forward and how can I put this... an ass." He said bluntly.

"Try and ignore him, he's been really pissing me off lately" Stefan walked ahead of me putting his hand on the handle of the door.

I didn't say anything because I didn't what to say or think. He can't be that bad. But I never seen Stefan like this so maybe he is. This was definitely not settling my nerves.

He opened the door and this hallways just lead to this huge room with an unimaginable sized fireplace. I couldn't stop myself from looking around.

"Make yourself comfortable, do you want anything to drink or eat?" Stefan said as he walked toward a door that I presumed lead to the kitchen.

"I wouldn't mind some water" I felt my mouth becoming dryer as the seconds went by.

Stefan disappeared into the next room and I walked around the room trying to get a grasp of the place.

"Well, hello there" a smooth voice came from the balcony which I didn't even realize was there a moment ago.

I whipped around to see, a man who was older than Stefan and must have been Damon.

"Uh- Hi" I raised my hand to wave and felt startled from his presence.

He walked down the stairs towards me with this confidence that was completely different to Stefan. As he got closer I felt he icy blue eyes look me over and I felt uneasy.

"I didn't know we were having guests" Damon smirked

"Yeah, just coming over to finish off history p-project" I stuttered.

I started getting more nervous wondering where the hell Stefan was. Where the hell was he getting this water from, Niagara falls?

Damon walked closer to me. Closer than stranger should be. He seemed completely at ease and mostly enjoying this.

"You have really beautiful eyes" Damon looked into them and I felt his stare getting deeper and deeper.

"I really hope Damon is not being a pain in the ass" Stefan appeared with sandwich and water

Damon rolled his eyes and took a step back making his way over to a side table with a assortment of liquors.

"I was just introducing myself" He said giving me a little smile before pouring himself a glass of brown color rink.

I could see Stefan sighing and shaking his head as he made his way up the stairs.

"Come on Y/N, let's go and finish off the project"

I made my way across the room and followed Stefan, feeling Damon's eyes on me the whole time until we were out of sight. I closed the door behind me as we got to Stefan's room. His room matched the rest of the aesthetic of the house. He made space for the sandwich and water on his desk which was covered in books.

"I noticed you didn't eat much today, so I made you peanut butter and jelly sandwich." he said trying to make room for chairs so we both could sit at his desk.

"Um, thank you. that's really kind" I smiled sitting beside him.

I wasn't hungry at all. My stomach was all over the place knowing that we were in a room together, alone. I kept rubbing my hands along my jeans trying to stop them from being clammy. He was different, he was irritated by something. I didn't want to pry but I was worried that he was regretting inviting me over.

"Is everything okay?" I asked quietly afraid to hear what I didn't want to hear.

He looked down and looked back up at me again.

"My brother pissed me off. He always like that around women and I'm sick of it. He just treats women like objects and- I'm sorry. You don't need to hear this." He sighs.

"It's okay, so he's kind of a ladies man?" I asked

"I wouldn't saying using women whenever he wants something a ladies m- that's not the point. The point is that you're a genuine good person Y/N" He looks at me and keeps eye contact lingering to the point I have to look away because I feel myself blushing.

"If he got his chance, he would..." Stefan looked around like he was trying to think of a word "taint you". landing his eyes back on me when saying that.

At this point, I'm pretty sure my heart beat was banging in my ears and I know my cheeks were permanently red. He must know how I felt about him, My body was letting me down right now and letting him know exactly how I felt about him, I couldn't hide it anymore.

He got up from the chair and walked around with his hands behind is head like he was trying to calm himself down. I was starting to worry because I never seen him so annoyed before. I got up from the chair and took a step toward him.

"Is there anything I can do to try and get your mind off of this?" I asked while picking at my fingers.

He turned around and looked directly at me across the room.

"Do you like me Y/N?" Stefan asked his face completely serious.

I think in that moment my heart skipped a beat. My mouth opened and in my mind I screamed yes but no noise came out. I looked down and back up, he was still looking at me. I could tell he was trying to read me.

"Yes I do" I nodded knowing that my voice might not be heard from speaking so quietly.

I could hear him release his breath, I looked down, all of a sudden too shy to look him in the eyes. I could hear him slowly walking towards me. I felt him get close to me, closer than friends should get. I felt his hand at the bottom of my chin and bring my face up to his. His lips were just about to touch mine. All my senses were overwhelmed. I could smell his cologne, feel his body heat, feel his hot breath against my lips. I looked up into his eyes not realizing how green they actually were.

"Can I kiss you?" He whispered

I couldn't make any sound, I nodded ever so slightly. I felt him lean in and his lips pressed against mine. I felt his thumb brush against my jaw. I felt my knees wanting to buckle under me. So I wrapped my arms around his neck feeling his other hand on my side. He was so gentle, like he was scared of actually breaking me. I leaned more into him wanting him to know I wanted more. I felt his tongue brushing along my lips and I wanted to taste him. I wanted to feel his tongue against mine. I starting getting lost in the kissing and without realizing I was up against the wall. I felt his body push up against mine. His body felt so strong but gentle at the same time. I ran my hand up the back of his head and down his neck on his shoulders, feeling the muscles underneath the shirt. He pulled away, making me realize that we were both out of breath.

"You don't know how long I've wanted to do that" He said while glancing down at my lips.

"I know the feeling" I smiled.

"When I'm with you, it's hard for me to keep control. The way Damon looked at you today, made me lose any control I had left" Stefan leaned in putting his hand up against the wall beside me.

I looked into his eyes knowing what I wanted from him. I felt this hungry inside me that I hadn't felt in months.

"Stefan, I don't think I want you to have control around me" I put my hands on his chest and bit my lip

I could see him looking deep into my eyes making sure what I said was actually what I wanted.

"What do you want from me ?" Stefan looked down on my lips knowing what I wanted but wanting to hear it,

"I want you to fuck me" I looked down at his lips and whispered.

Stefan closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He opened them again and leaned in, kissing me. It was different this time. He had the same hunger I had now. I leaned into him and I felt him reach down to my thighs and lifted me up with ease, I automatically wrapped my legs around his waist. He walked over the bed and laid me down gently. I felt his hands on my waist and brushing them over my body and got my arms and put them over my head. He climbed on the bed and starting kissing my neck and I felt something sharp on my neck for a split second but then it disappeared. I reached down and pulled off his shirt and admired his toned body underneath.

"Fuck, you're hot" I whispered to myself feeling myself getting wetter by the second.

He looked up at me "Nothing compared to you baby" He smirked

As he unbuttoned my jeans and pulled them down, I pulled off my top and tossed it aside somewhere. I felt our chests press up against each other and the warmth they shared. I felt him getting harder as he kissed my body more. I couldn't resist anymore, I unbuttoned his jeans and pulled everything down, releasing his hardening cock for me.

"You don't know how much I need you right now " He moaned as I gripped his cock and pumped him

"I want to feel you inside me " I said as I kissed his neck

He slid down my body spreading my legs as he went.

"I want you to taste me, but right now I can't wait any longer. Please fuck me" I begged

He looked at me and kiss my folds before getting up and leaning over to nightstand taking out a foil packaged.

He rolled on the condom and climbed on top of me. His hand disappeared between us as his fingers slowly went in me and start to pull out and push in.

"You're so wet for me" He whispered taking his hand away and sucking on his fingers "Mmmm.. taste so good too baby"

I moaned knowing it was going to feel so good when it enters me.

He positioned himself until he was at my entrance and slowly thrusted forward feeling myself open up to him. He kissed me and nuzzled himself in my neck moaning as he felt my walls grip onto him.

"You feel so good, fuck." He moans as he stays in place as we both take the feeling.

He started thrusting in and out as we both started getting used to each other. He started kissing my sensitive nipples which made me melt into the bed.

"I need you to fuck me harder" I said while feeling his body over me

"You want me to fuck you harder?" He teased while slowing down

"Please" I pleaded knowing that would make my cum hard

"My pleasure" He moved with faster and rougher force.

We fucked feeling both of our climaxes climbing. I wasn't able to hold back and he could tell.

"I'm not going to be able to hold off much longer, are you close?" He moaned feeling him starting to lose rhythm.

"Nearly baby" I said out of breath

He changed position as he put my legs on his shoulders and starting thrusting hard and fast.

"Baby,I can't- fuck, I going to cum"

"Me too" I moaned feeling my walls milk him

We both came, as he got his release he fell forward hovering over me catching his breath and kissing me gently.

"You're incredible" He whispered in my ear and looking at me brushing my hair out of my face

"Ditto" I smiled kissing him gently.

We both cuddled for the next couple of hours and talked, taking in the intimate moment we had.

We spent an all nighter finishing the history project and trying not to distract each other.

[cruelsister-moved]

Aah, sorry, I don't mean to be annoying but - I never thought too deeply into how they choose to present themselves and !!! Thinking on it, the most extravagant XL ever appeared was the god pleasing costume, right? And that's not even smth he chose, it's just the costume anyone playing the main role wears. As a prince, he always wore pretty and nice clothes but like. He never chose any of those. Mu Qing always dressed him and XL himself never gave af about what he wore, he was too focused on other things - cultivation and fighting, mostly. And then, of course, when he had nothing but that plain robe and he's fine with that, it's just. Not important to him. Meanwhile, HC, as you pointed out, puts a lot of thought into what he wears (clothes, jewelry, accessories etc.) and what form he appears in and so on and so forth. Of course, ppl are free to still put XL in pretty things and depict him as gnc! But thinking on it, it's really odd how fanon gets them switched up a lot 🤔 And a shame, lol.

On that note, next to the gnc HC agenda, I propose that there should be more content with SQX and HC being gnc together, lmao. HC actually tolerates SQX well enough, which is as close as to "like" we can go - SQX and HC gender shenanigans when?

U ARE NOT ANNOYING!! i love to have these discussions<333 that's such an interesting point about his relationship with this stuff though like, for him clothes were really a distraction/irritation and almost symptomatic of the obligations he chafes under. for him, wearing the same clothes all the time is kind of a reclamation of his own body (especially after what we went through physically as the god-pleasing crown prince...). it's not like he was particularly against all that finery but to my memory he never really showed any interest in it or missed it. and in that one extra where he's lost his memory, what he notices is the uncomfortable texture (insert autistic xie lian agenda 🤔) it feels important to note here again that in these examples what he would be performing is masculinity; his extravagant outfits pre-ascension should not be taken as gnc or feminine just because a modern western audience would take long hair and flowing clothes and jewellery as feminine. so people can depict him in these type of clothes without any incongruence, but i think it's also interesting to examine his relationship to them and what that would mean for him as a character rather than just being like yeah this means hes feminine actually:) it's also okay to hypothesise about his relationship to gender obviously ^_^ but i don't think there is all that much in the text that makes him obviously gnc, especially not over hc!! i feel like there is a lot more than gender to his relationship w clothes that i dont have the brainpower to explore rn (like i think he is in some ways aiming to look unassuming, and when people underestimate him it isn't what ppl seem to interpret as 'he seems weak and feminine' but 'look at this clueless weirdo in his poor person clothes'!) but. i just really love the contrast between xie lian being like "gender is a performance and im sleep 😌" and hua cheng being very aware of how he presents himself and his main goals in general being "look hot to xie lian" and "piss off heavenly officials" which his presentation has a lot of power to do. like it's even interesting how he chose to present himself as san lang, like he had every choice to be some 8ft muscle warrior but he wanted to be this unassuming (but very put together) young man and constantly be all ahhh gege protect me i'm so scared ! interesting how he almost went to great lengths to AVOID flexing his power in front of xie lian, but he was fine with flexing the knowledge and the painting which immediately made him suspicious. like. that's so interesting i would love to explore that!! he had hundreds of years to agonise over how he was going to introduce him to xl and he decided on that side ponytail and slutty collar...

also i agree with u so much like i want hua cheng and sqx girl best friends agenda. i want hc challenging xl on his lame attitude to sqx's gender<3 its so interesting how the supposedly gnc xie lian is willing neither to perform gender nor to challenge it, while hc is like just having fun with it. two different relationships to gender which r both #valid but i would love to see them explored rather than xl is small and weak and feminine, hc is big and strong and masculine -_-

[delvalentine]

Hello! Can I have a romantic matchup for tears of themis please?

Appearance : 5'4 ace/heteromantic girl ambivert.Dark brown hair/eyes (I wear glasses but they are also sun glasses because bright lights give me a headache) a little chubby/muscled and pale skin+permanent smirk/smile/ neutral face. Plump lips. My style varies a lot (always comfy) but I never wear dresses heels/makeup. I love to imagine outfits with symbols from fandoms or my own drawings so I have a rather unique style (most of the time I wear a NASA jacket and leather boots/sneakers, I also love sleeveless turtleneck) who changes a lot. I have malleable cheeks and tiny hands/fingers/wrist.

MBTI: INTP-T and chaotic neutral/good

Zodiac: Gemini

Personality : .Sarcastic,a little naive but I have a backbone (don't bother flirting with me and if you feel that I am flirting with you which happens a lot then it's just my personality and on the rare occasion I notice they have to confess or I won't believe it) ,calculative,protective,creative,expressive,manipulative,a devil's advocate,prideful,charismatic, smartass, bookworm, daydreamer, a little insensitive/blunt because I'm more on the logical side ,vengeful, mischievous, a huge tease, open minded, very curious, gets annoyed easily, impatient (unless it's in drawing because I am a perfectionist there) so kind of a bad temper, observant but not romantically,sadistic to a point but my conscience prevents me from doing these acts. Indifferent to many things, morally ambiguous as my moral compass is on the neutral side I don't believe in absolute evil/good, y'all better thank my conscience they work too well I never have fun.

With my friends I am either laughing, goofing around or annoyed. I love to give bad puns or cursed ideas who are gore/weird and saying I know y all love me. Those who don't talk to me see me as a nerd aggressive smart and blunt person ( even prideful) and strangers as polite and kind. I notice a lot of details because I don't let my guard down even if I daydream plus I have a photographic + sound memory and they work very well in all situations which can be a bother when I try to concentrate which is difficult for me because I get distracted easily. Also I have very weird reflexes so...anyone who approaches me by surprise gets hit, any sudden movement and I already have my leg/arm going their way which got me into a lot of trouble.

Dislikes: I fight for my beliefs. I have trust issues so I never talk about my problems and will use humor when confronted. Bright lights. Cooking. Slow things or people. When I get teased in a mean way (otherwise I actually like being teased it's a fun fight after). People who change side easily and hypocrites. Overly serious people. I tend to be aggressive and expose an annoyed face easily (I am moody), plus I hate orders and love pressing buttons it's funny(in a fun way rarely in a mean one) unless it's a sensitive subject. When I feel that I am unwanted or someone insults me or take me for granted I become very cold and distance myself and the relationship becomes strained the more they take time to ask for forgiveness, something I might give but will never forget.

Likes: I love cats/laughter/sweets/pranks/dark humour/ a true crime and Supernatural enthusiast and I love science especially concerning space, chemistry, robotic and psychology. Books, sleep, drawing and video games too. Cherries. Sushi.Oh and debates I love them. Surprises too I hate routine and runs away from it. I like making character analysis which I often get right but never show to the people around me because I know they will trust me less.

Hobbits : Reading, getting lost in a book, drawing, learning, debating, daydreaming, sports (I practice karate and shooting), art (piano/drawing/writing especially poetry) and video games

I have some bad habits like biting my nails (I just got rid of it by painting them black)/lips and moving my leg up and down because I am always nervous, disorganized room/sleep and eating schedule plus I am lazy. Also I might try to hide it but I am very competitive and a sore loser

Fun fact : I dream a lot and write my dreams. I don't mind nightmares on the contrary I welcome them because I find them to be a nice experience and they give me ideas plus the amount of emotions you can feel is amazing. I also tend to curse while talking.

When I get hurt, none takes me seriously because I start laughing uncontrollably even if it hurts a lot. Which means if I get stabbed, I am not dying of blood lost, nooo I am dying of laughter.

I rarely get motivated but when I do I give a very good work and put my soul in it, if I don't reach my goal I feel down for a while and become very snappy.

I am a lazy student (hell if I don't feel like writting I don't especially exercises that I understood) but also at top of my class so none says anything (i can befriend people easily if I want to, teachers included). My projects are often done last minute or just improvisation but I get a good mark at them which means that yes sometimes I can become arrogant and I don't really know what it feels like to study really hard and fail sorry. But I know it will bite me later. I often argue my way out of a situation with anyone : I know the exercise why should I write it? If I told you the answer then I know how I got it and you know it too no need for me to write the correction. Mum the brain is a muscle too so I am in fact exercising.

When dealing with an emotional person I don't know what to do I will try to give them words to keep going, it succeed but I am rather harsh plus I try to make jokes to cheer them up.But if a friend breaks down before me I will do my best to cheer them up (ahem jokes and reminding them of all the success they achieved) and if I am comfortable and they want a hug I will give it. I hate people who denies that others helped them.

My love language is gifts, quality time, a little act of service and affection in private if comfortable. I also love to send memes saying it reminds me of us/you and holding pinkies.

I am stubborn, moody (one day I can be really cold/snappy to the person because I am in a bad mood but I apologize after). I speak Arabic, french and English (in that order) and trying to learn italian. I am also an only child.

Thank you!

vyn richter

vyn has an ambiguous moral compass that would allow the two of you to be more compatible than with the others who are more goody two-shoes type. he has an extensive understanding of the human psyche and doesn't need you to explain yourself; he just gets you.

he finds your dream log fascinating, and also respects that you don't fear nightmares. often times the two of you might get together for tea and discuss the meanings, having actual conversations instead of just "how are you" "good" and letting it die there.

vyn is an academic and would welcome debate with you. instead of getting hostile or making it seem like fighting, the debates would be properly intellectual. he would quietly try to motivate you as well, perhaps baking your favourite treat, and being cruel enough to withhold them until you get something done. in turn, he needs to you balance out his seriousness, introducing him to new standards of life he dismissed earlier.

[mummybear]

Dinner With Friends

This Is Day 10 Of Roleplay May

Words: 3034

Warnings: Smut, Teasing, Jealous Damon, Biting, Damon Drinking Blood, Secret Relationship. Think That’s It.

Characters: Damon Salvatore, Reader, Stefan Salvatore, Bonnie Bennett, Caroline Forbes, Alaric Saltzman, Lexi and Tyler Lockwood

Pairing: Damon Salvatore x Reader

Summary: When Caroline and Stefan decide to throw a getting to know you party for the reader, she and Damon are forced to cooperate. But with their secret relationship going on in the back ground, will Damon be able to keep his jealous tendencies at bay, will the two of them be able to stop their wandering hands.

A/N: This is also for my girl @lettersofwrittencollective‘s and her 1000 Followers challenge. Congratulations my girl! So very well deserved, I hope you enjoy it! Love you Nat! <3 My prompt was ‘We have to be quiet’

Staying with the Salvatore’s was interesting to say the least. Nothing was ever boring, witches, vampires and werewolves were the most sane things in Mystic falls, especially these days. Tonight wasn’t likely to be any different, Caroline had decided to throw a party to introduce you to everyone, with Stefan’s help. No matter how much you and Damon had refused to be involved, here you were helping Caroline and Bonnie set the table while the boys cooked up a storm in the kitchen.

As annoying as it was to have your plans disrupted, Caroline and Bonnie were really sweet and they’d been nothing but nice to you since the day you’d met them. As far as you knew you were only waiting on three other people to arrive. Tyler Lockwood who was a werewolf as it turned out, Alaric who was human and Damon’s best friend. Then there was Lexi, Stefan’s best friend who had helped him through some of his hardest times, she was a vampire.

You were feeling a little overwhelmed with the prospect of meeting all of these new people. Placing the last fork on the table, you watch Stefan walk into the dining room and wrap his arms around Caroline and the girls fall into an easy conversation with him, giving you the perfect escape route. You slip out of the room immediately bumping into a solid chest, you look up finding those gorgeous blue eyes looking down at you.

Grabbing your hand he pulls you into the kitchen.

“Well, fancy bumping into you,” he smirks down at you, licking those lips that you dream about.

You drag him into the pantry and close the door behind you.

“This is a stupid idea Damon! I cannot do this!” you confess frustration clearly thick in your voice.

“Again with this princess, I’ve already told you. Yes, it’s stupid and I want nothing more than to drag you up those stairs and fuck you good and hard,” he bites his lip as you press up against him, placing a firm hand on your hip. “But, since things are already in motion, we just need to put up with it, until later. Or until I get bored.” he reasons running his fingers through your hair giving an experimental tug when he leans in closer.

“Damon, come on don’t talk like that, you know what it does to me,” you pout his lips drag across your jaw, until they’re pressed against your ear, teeth dragging over your earlobe. 

“Wait until dinner if you think i’m being unfair now. Maybe I should have a bite” he says as his tongue licks along the thick vein pulsing in your neck. When you moan quietly his blunt human teeth drag over the spot that he knows makes your knees week.

“I hate you” you grumble as Damon moves his face to look at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah? You hate this?” he asks hotly against your lips as he pushes one of his thick thighs between your legs, the hand on your hip helps you to roll your hips down into the muscle.

“Quit lying to me princess, we both know just how much you fucking love me and how good I make you feel,” his cocky voice only turns you on even more and God doesn’t he know it.

“Then take me upstairs then you cocky bastard, fuck me and quit being a tease,” 

“Oh that’s just adorable. You know I love being a tease, you can wait until I’m ready little one. Now, get out of here before I take you over that table in front of everyone.” he smirks, pecking your lips, chuckling when you growl at him.

Opening the door he gently pushes you out of the pantry, walking closely behind you. You jump as Stefan walks back into the kitchen and Damon’s back presses against you.

“What’re you two up to in here?” he asks confused looking between you and his brother.

“Well little brother, Y/N here was just telling me how bad she wants to get me on my own” Damon smirks at you as he walks past to stir the sauce.

The blush is flaming in your cheeks as Stefan laughs, “Ignore him Y/N, he doesn’t understand that some girls will just never be interested in him. The girls were looking for you by the way,”

Thanking Stefan you leave quickly, ignoring the conversation that starts between the brothers. You make sure to shoot Damon a glare as you walk back into the dining room, where you find everyone already sitting at the table. All the newcomers included. 

Caroline is on you as soon as she spots you, wrapping her arm around you she leads you over to a chair between a tall dark and handsome looking guy and Bonnie. You take your seat as the boys walk in with the food, “Dinner is served,” Stefan announced proudly.

The dinner moves along quickly, laughter and conversation flowing. However you’re completely distracted by the blue eyed vampire glaring at you from across the table, which pauses your conversation with Tyler. Who had just asked you something perfectly innocent, though by the look on Damon’s face he may as well have groped you under the table.

“You okay?” the young werewolf asks with a kind smile, resting his hand on your arm.

If looks could kill the man beside you would be dead. The trouble was with you and Damon was that this was half of the fun of your relationship, he was by far one of the most jealous men you’d ever met. You loved winding him up because an angry Damon was a rough and sexy sight to behold, not that it was hard to achieve. 

Crossing your legs beneath the table you turn towards Tyler with a smile, “Yeah, I’m okay. I guess I was just a little nervous about tonight. But I have a feeling things are about to turn around.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” Tyler asks leaning in closer. However, just like you’d expected before he gets a little too close. A large hand lands on Tyler’s shoulder, roughly pulling him and his chair back from the table. 

“You’re moving. Now” Damon growls as Tyler stands ready to argue, Damon takes his chair and slams it down beside you making you jump a little. You look up at him biting back your smile, watching as he takes the seat and pushes the plate forward.

“O-kay” Caroline says loudly, as Tyler takes the chair by Stefan with a little persuasion. 

You can feel Damon’s glare burning into the side of your head as Alaric slides him a bourbon across the table. “I’m Alaric by the way, you can call me Ric,” the older man smiles, shaking your hand. To your surprise Damon doesn’t even twitch beside you, clearly this was a man he trusted, definitely more than Tyler.

“Nice to meet you finally, Ric. I’ve heard a lot about you,” you smile genuinely pleased to meet the hunter. 

Things calm down from there as dessert is served, but right as you take your first bite Damon’s hand lands on your thigh and squeezes. Glancing his way you narrow your eyes at him, he just smiles and nods at something Alaric asks, but you’re far too distracted to pay attention to what they’re saying. 

Still gripping tightly Damon’s hand drags up your thigh and slips beneath your skirt. Your hands are white knuckling the table as he pulls your legs apart and hooks one over his knee. Noticing that everyone is preoccupied in conversation Damon leans in close, pressing his lips so close to your ear they’re almost touching.

“If he ever touches you again, I’ll rip his fucking head off. I don’t care that you wanna keep us a secret for now. Nobody touches what’s mine, not in front of everyone else and especially not some mangy mutt.” 

You turn to look at him with a smile, licking your lips, your hand drops to his lap as you lean in closer pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. 

“You know I’m not interested in anyone else. So, how about you let me prove it to you again?” your question seems to peak his interest and that irresistible smirk is back.

You watch his eyes flick around the room making sure the coast is still clear, before focusing back on you again. Dragging his teeth over his bottom lip he glances down at yours.

“Mmmm, okay. I’m listening baby girl,” 

Cupping the bulge in his pants you turn back to your drink and take a sip, hearing Damon groan beside you when his fingers move a little higher, brushing against your completely bare center.

“See I told you I listen.” you smile against your glass before placing it back on the table.

“Fuck, no panties all for me princess?” he breathes out, pausing to wink at Ric when he sees him looking. 

“Clearly you don’t listen to me though, Salvatore. He knows doesn’t he?” your irritated voice questions and is promptly answered by a shrug and those icy blue eyes glance back into yours.

“How about I make it up to you?” he smirks wiggling those eyebrows at you.

Rolling your eyes at him you sigh. “You’re such a smart ass. Leave it five minutes and then follow my lead.” you tell him quietly, purposely knocking your drink over and soaking yourself. Pulling your leg back from Damon’s you awkwardly stumble backwards out of the chair. 

“Oh dammit! I’m so sorry guys, just excuse me for a minute. I should really get this cleaned up,” you rush to explain, practically running from the room before anyone can speak to you. Rushing over to the large staircase you run up to your bedroom and close the door behind you. 

Stripping yourself from your soaked clothes, you climb onto your bed naked and lay in the middle, with your back resting against the headboard. You can’t help but think maybe it wouldn’t be a bad thing if people started finding out about the two of you being together, it had been a while now. Besides, whatever you decided Ric seemed like a nice guy and you know Damon will keep respecting your wishes the way he’d proved to you the last few months. Even when things had become more series between the two of you, he’d respected your wishes at every turn. 

It’s maybe two minutes before your bedroom door opens and Damon steps inside, closing it quietly behind him. Taking long strides towards you, his piercing gaze never leaving your naked body. You bite back your smile watching Damon’s shirt drop to the floor, quickly followed by his shoes and ass hugging jeans. He vamp speeds towards you and pins you beneath him, wrists trapped under his big hands.

“You look good enough to fucking eat baby girl.” He mumbles into your neck, licking along the pulsing vein under your skin as his hands roam your body, your head drops back into the pillows and a gasp leaves your lips when he bites down on the muscle between your neck and shoulder. 

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” you moan out as he sucks a nipple between his lips and drags his teeth over the hardened bud. You can feel the thick length of his hardness pressing into your thigh, as he rocks his hips into you.

“Yeah, probably. But we both know I’ll make you feel good baby girl.” 

Damon pushes a hand between your legs and you can’t help the loud moan that leaves your lips. The man above you chuckles, pulling back slightly so he can meet your eyes. A large hand quickly clamps over your mouth as he presses two fingers inside you, a cry of his name is muffled against his hand. “Don’t forget princess. We have to be quiet, unless you want everyone down there knowing about the big bad vampire who’s about to ruin you? Again.” he smirks as his hand leaves your mouth, fingertips trailing down your body, over your stomach where he presses down as your hips arch into his hand and his tongue flicks over your clit.

Your fingers tangle in his thick black locks as he curls his fingers inside you, slowly stroking against the spot inside you that makes your entire body shiver. A needy whimper leaves your lips when he bites your inner thigh with his human teeth. 

“Always with the teasing, Damon. You owe me,” you remind him as those blue eyes flick back to yours.

“I fully intend to pay princess” he winks, sealing his lips around your throbbing clit, as his fingers speed up, curling just right with every movement. You’re biting into one of your hands before you know it, the fire licking at every nerve ending as you try to quieten your screams. 

“Damon, I can’t. Please” you beg behind your hand.

Damon moans into you when your pussy clamps down around his fingers, then he adds a third finger and with a flick of his wrist your entire body arches into his hand. 

“That’s my girl” Damon chuckles as your pussy flutters and clamps uncontrollably around his fingers, his tongue swirls around your clit and his fingers keep moving, helping you through your orgasm until you’re pushing at his head with your hands, too sensitive for anymore.

He crawls back up your body, cocky smirk still intact as he licks his fingers clean. You wrap your arms around his neck as soon as he’s close enough, you kiss him. Tasting yourself on his tongue you pull his thick bottom lip between your teeth, making him groan into your mouth.

“Fuck, I love you. So damn sexy,” he growls as you flip him onto his back in a practised movement. 

The rules were the rules in your relationship, Damon knew every time he messed up and you told him he owed you, he really owed you and he did exactly as you asked and exactly as he was told.

Sitting up on your knees you grip his length in your hand, until it’s pressed against your opening. “I love you too baby.” you purr finally lowering yourself down all the way onto his hard waiting cock.

Damon’s hands go straight to your hips, not guiding your movements simply holding onto you tightly. His grip was bruising when you started to move, leaning forward your hands landed on his chest, nails biting at the soft skin as you grind down into him like your life depended on it. His hands move to roughly grip your ass when you start to rise and fall on the thick length inside you, the slap he delivers to your ass only spurs you on.

You pull at his shoulders so he’s sitting with you in his lap, “Fuck princess, you want it bad tonight huh?” Damon grunts as your nails drag down his back hard enough to draw blood, the slap of your skin echoing around the room as you speed up your movements with his help. 

“Don’t care anymore. I need it, need you,” you moan loudly as he starts to meet your thrusts with sharp hard movements of his hips as you keep him pulled close. Your teeth drag over his earlobe before you whisper in his ear. “Do it, I know you want to” 

Damon’s grip on you tightens, his breath hot against your neck. You can even feel the scrape of his fangs against your skin, causing a shiver to run through your body, “you know what your blood does to me princess, they’re gonna know if i do. You taste like the most incredible bourbon ever made” he moans breathlessly, feeling your walls clamping down around him all over again.

“You mean you’re gonna be blood drunk off your ass? I don’t care what they think anymore, let them know I’m all yours baby” You whimper feeling one of his fangs slice through your skin, the drag of his cool tongue lapping up the falling droplet makes you whine. “Do it” you demand your voice wrecked as you do your best to hold back your orgasm, “You know the rules Damon” 

Your reminder does just as you’d planned snapping the only string of self control the vampire beneath you had left. A low growl leaves his throat when he finally sinks his fangs into the pulsing vein in your neck, you let out a pleasured scream, finally getting what you’d been waiting for all week. The band in your stomach snaps immediately, dragging you back over that edge like only he seems able to do. 

You’re barely coming down from your earth shattering orgasm when Damon finally gives into his own needs, moaning as your blood fills his mouth and his orgasm hits him hard. 

His smooth tongue is soothing over the mark he’s left behind when your hips finally still and your chest is heaving against his. He drops onto his back with you still on top of him, leaning on your forearms on his chest you look down into his gorgeous blue eyes, which are still lidded as he licks his lips. He goes to bite into his wrist but you stop him, “Leave it, I want it there” you smile as he tucks the hair behind your ear which has fallen in your face.

“What have you done to me princess?” he smiles back, that genuine smile that not many people get to see. 

“Nothing you don’t deserve” you reply honestly, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips.

“Well keep it up Missy and there’s a round two up for grabs” those wiggling eyebrows of his only make you giggle.

“Oh keep talking Mr Salvatore, I hear that shower calling your name” he reaches for you as you climb off the bed and head towards the on suite.

“You better run then” he grins, vamping off, you squeal as his arms wrap around your waist and he throws you over his shoulder and smacks your ass. “Don’t wanna keep the shower waiting do we baby” 

Tags:  @chewie-redbird @julzdec​ @stiles-o-dylan24​ @mogaruke​ @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone​ @dylanholyhellobrien​ @desireepow-1986​ @emichelle​ @lilulo-12​ @22sarah08​ @deanwanddamons​ @simsadventures​  @charmed-asylum​ @nicole-lynne​ @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog​ @defenderrosetyler​ @emilyshurley​ @emoryhemsworth​ @foxyjwls007​ @mylovelydame21​ @sunshineandwings86 @captain-shannon-becker​ @heimdoodle​ @plushpyrate​ @winchester-wifey​ @negans-lucille-tblr​ @fandomfic-galore​

[rwbyconversations]

RWBY Volume 7 Review

Two weeks out from Volume 8 and I finally cared enough to write this. Go team I guess. 

Part of it came down to my feelings on Volume 7. It’s a complicated season that’s made me realize a lot of my overall feelings on RWBY as a series, particularly a lot of the less flattering feelings. Volume 7 is just... frustrating in general, as for all the good that it does have, and it does have a lot of great elements to it, it’s let down by a frustrating script and writing choices that feel distinctly amateurish, especially as the series moves on and gets better and better looking each year. There’s elements and kernals here of great character writing, season-wide arcs that land in a really good way and get me emotionally invested in the characters. But on the other... Ren only has two hundred words the entire season and you can tell! 

Volume 7 is a season of dizzying highs, some of the best moments of the entire franchise... and some of the series lows. It’s a season where there’s no production reason for its shortcomings... it just comes down to an awkward script that focuses on the wrong elements far too often. Let’s talk about that. In a very long and drawn out manner.

Thanks to @jamesbranwen​, @h-e-m-o-goblin​ and @retro-riffraff​ for help with GIFs and consultation on this review.

1) The Good Stuff!

A) Atlas is very pretty!

I cannot stress enough how on a set level, Volume 7 is leaps and bounds above the other seasons in sheer environmental detail and setting dressing. Mantle has a great atmosphere with its New York influences, the smog covered backgrounds and oppressive streets and alleys. Ironwood’s office which is deliberately designed to evoke astronomy themes to represent James’ love for the stars. The cold oppressive atmosphere of the Schnee Manor and how Jacques has begun warping it to glorify him with only lip service paid to Nicholas in public. Penguins! 

There’s a lot of great set design work that went into this season and the crew deserve props for it. Genuinely. 

B) Ironwood’s arc is the best character arc in the entire franchise

Yeah just wearing my heart on my sleeve there, I fucking love Ironwood and his character arc here in Volume 7 is the best written arc of the show. I simp for the tin man who just wants to do the right thing. This one season of content is better than a lot of the series-wide material being honest. I went back to James’s big volumes in the last month to rewatch the show and it’s interesting to see the early seeds in retrospect for where his arc goes. His need to protect everyone he can and the brutish measures he considers necessary for such an act, his conflicting loyalties towards Ozpin that manifest in both frustration at Oz’s seeming apathy to the growing conflict, but also desperate desire for validation from Ozpin that what’s he doing is the right call. After the Mistral seasons set up James as going off the deep end following Volume 3, having him open the season with an earnest smile, an immediate apology for the team’s arrest and trusting them with his plans for Amity and Salem is a jarring but pleasant surprise. He’s not been slacking off, he’s been trying to keep the world together in the way he thinks is best. He lets his guard down around the heroes and we see the good man underneath, which makes the moments where he raises his walls hurt all the more. While Em and Merc are still probably my favorite characters period, James is absolutely my favorite character in Volume 7 and Top 5 favorite characters series-wide. I’m very eager to see where he goes from here. He also rocks the beard and fixed his T-Rex arms so James came out of the washing machine that is Volume 7′s costume design. He truly is the Best Boi, and I cannot give Jason Rose enough credit for his performance this year. He hit every note of Ironwood’s character perfectly and I wish the fandom would give him more credit for giving James as much life as he does.

Oh, and as the obligatory comment on mlm rep that I am known for getting obsessively weird anon hate over: IronQrow hug nearly had me crying on a convention floor from how goddamn soft it was. Remember conventions? Ah good times.

This just... hits me... ya know? Seeing him lower his guard so much to come in for a hug just shows how isolated he’s let himself become to let himself have this moment of contact... Godamnit James. Also this is the second time after Martial Arcs that two guys hug and I really liked their ship for the following hiatus. 

C) Soft Qrow hours are nice

Qrow’s a good guy, he went through a lot of bad stuff in Volume 6 but now he’s on the other side and purged his voice of the demon within. I think Volume 7 was a very good year for Qrow overall. It was great to see him interacting with more characters his age and lowering his own guard. His moments of letting the facade drop around James and Clover especially are great expansion for his character. Jason Liebritch hit the ground running as Qrow and gave him a far more dynamic range than I think Vic could. While I wish Qrow going off alcohol had been given more of a focus as it’s kind of done off-handedly that he’s gone cold turkey and otherwise doesn’t get brought up barring his revulsion at the wine in the Schnee Manor, he overall had a great year. And trust me I’ll get to the fights later, I have a lot more I can say about the bird boi there. 

D) I liked the Ace Ops! 

I was ambivilent towards the Ace Ops on first watching. They’re kinda underdeveloped in the context of the season at large and most people immediately pegged them as a miniboss squad/fodder for Salem to kill. But in rewatch they do still get to shine, if not as brightly. They’re very enjoyable. Clover especially is just really fun in retrospect, I love cocky fighters in general, and he was infectiously enjoyable (I’ve already covered the FG stuff in the past, not doing it again). Marrow came a close second because... well it’s Marrow, he is The Best Boi. Harriet got points for being a punchgirl which is always cool, I liked how her Semblance was shown and being cocky while being able to back it up is always a win. Elm and Vine are tied for dead last, I like the body diversity Elm introduces with her muscles and Vine... existed... but overall I think with the time they had, they did get to establish themselves well. I wish I could say that about their relationship with Team RWBYORNJ but this is the Nice Section so we’ll leave it there for now.

This is one of the best shots of the entire season. I adore it. God I like the Teryx design.

E) God the villains rocked this year! 

I am a villain whore. I own that. I will embrace that monkier. But when they’re as cool as this, I feel validated in this Chilli’s tonight. Watts and Tyrian really make the season shine and don’t have a dud scene all season. They have great chemistry together, shining bright in even the weakest or most mediocre episodes. Watts went from “Oh yeah you exist” tier to “Oh yeah you rule” tier. His vendetta against Ironwood feels so real and pre-established, even though this season is the first time it’s ever come up. Watts just ozzes style in everything he does. The animators bring him to life and make every step, every flick of his twist and even just how he moves his eyes all bleed contempt. He’s such a rat and I love him! Chris Sabat finally gets to stretch his wings after a few years playing Watts as just Evil Scientist Guy, and he makes the most of it. 

And Tyrian remains an absolute treat. He didn’t get much in V6 but here he takes center stage with Watts and also gets so much impact because of it. All the little twitches, and tilting of his heads, and dramatic gestures, he’s still just so goddamn cool to watch and we even get a little backstory of him. I know he’s irredeemable. But I just want to watch Tyrian kill people and scream. Like hot damn his line “THE GRIMM SHOULD HAVE DESTROYED OUR ENEMIES, NOT MADE THEM FRIENDS!” is so fucking raw. He’s having fun destablizing a nation with his boyfriend! 

“You want more chaos than a Grimm invasion?” “If anyone on Remannt can do it, wouldn’t it be you?” There is no heterosexual explanation for how these two look at each other and yes this is me outing myself as a Nuts and Volts fan.

Watts and Tyrian really do become the absolute highlights of the season alongside James. They have a great dynamic and even during their more slower moments there’s so much care and thought put into their every mannerism. Animators, seriously, great job, I love what you did. And their fights... we’ll get there. But they’re so goddamn good. 

Look they even run the same! They’re soulmates! 

Honorary mention to Salem by the way. She’s only in two scenes but her presence is felt throughout Ironwood’s arc and his growing fear of her and she damn well delivers when she shows up. That shot of her arriving in person is a killer shot to end on as well.

Oh and I guess Cinder and Neo exist don’t they? Eh, we’ll come back to them. 

F) Oscar got a character arc!

Finally! He did it! He got an arc that began, continued and ended all onscreen! It only took four tries! 

But yeah Oscar had a really good set of scenes in Volume 7. I like him being the first to confront Ruby on the Ironwood lie, bringing up the hypocrisy after their condemning of Ozpin just last season. I like him having a more forward role (outside of not getting to be part of the celebration in episode 4 what the hell guys), and that he’s the big link between RWBY and Ironwood was a great call. Having Ozpin shelved for one more season so Oscar can take center-stage was an inspired choice. I love his dynamic with Ironwood, and how James closing himself off emotionally gets reflected in how he begins slipping in how he refers to Oscar, starting off as treating him and Oz as separate, ending with him gunning Oscar down as he doesn’t care anymore to differentiate the two.

My big issues with Oscar’s arc are that I’m first of all annoyed at the lack of followup on the Oscar stuff from V6, I’m still waiting for Qrow to apologize for punching Oscar guys! I also really wish Neo’s first attack wasn’t offscreen. CRWBY’s cliffhanger fetish meant I got to break out the Offscreen Pine jokes again. And of course, the Neo hallway punch was a bit bullshit.

G) (Most of) The fights are amazing

There’s no punchline. These fights are great, two of them are in my Top 10 Series Wide fights list and at least the duds aren’t Volume 5 bad.

If you’d told me before Volume 7 that Watts would get an extended firefight with James, I’d have felt that a bit cheap as Watts to me doesn’t feel like a fighter, more a planner who hides behind armies of mechanical soldiers. But damn if they didn’t sell me on Watts “You’ve yeed your last haw” Watts whipping out a Glock just to spite James. 

This is another one of my favorite shots in the entire series.

Ironwood vs Watts is potentially my favorite fight in the entire series, and if it’s not, it’s easy Top 3 alongside Yang vs Mercury and Pyrrha vs CRDL/Mercury. It makes great use of Amity in the abandoned gravity biome meant for SSSN vs JNPR, with Ironwood and Watts deftly moving around in a manner that very easily could have been difficult to track with the constantly shifting gravity, but the crew do their best to keep it coherent as to who’s where. The credits showed their dedication also stretched into visual continuity, as James and Arthur’s route throughout the Arena was carefully considered so they’d loop around organically. 

This is what I mean when I say the crew went above and beyond to keep things clean.

Ironwood vs Watts could have easily failed to impress, given its lack of choreography on the level the series usually does, but the team’s efforts went instead into showing a situation that lets Watts get a dragged out battle: James wins whenever he closes the distance here, so Arthur’s constantly on the run and being forced to tamper with the arena. Great camerawork, a GOD TIER song from Caleb Hyles that I’m still listening to today, and two characters with a fantastic history coming to blows makes for easily the best fight of the season and a series-wide highlight. Watching it develop from storyboards, to mocap, to animations and the full version is a delight to see. This is what CRWBY can do when everything comes togehter. The orchestra’s all tuned. It’s a goddamn symphony.

THIS is my favorite shot of the season.

Tyrian also gets to shine with his two battles this year. His alley fight with Qrow, Robyn and Clover is short but sweet, the corvid and the scorpion especially trading brutal blows in the cramped space. Qrow goes full Devil May Cry with his style-switching here, Harbinger being swapped between sword, tonfa and gun forms freely alongside Qrow applying The Power of Punching. His 1v1v1 with Clover and Qrow though is the true highlight of the season in terms of choreography. It’s lighting-fast, and has some impeccable shot work. Qrow gets to use his scythe with deliberate nods to the Red Trailer, Clover gets to shut up everyone who doubted his weapon, and Tyrian is just along for the ride and he makes the most of it. It’s frentic, it’s heart-pounding, it’s everything a fight should be. 

Honorary mentions as well go to Ace Ops vs the Geist, which is just really fun and has a great backing music choice, the opening battle with Sabre having Ruby’s obligatory ten seconds of fighting that come at the start of every new era of the series, and the Ace Ops vs RWBY fight which has some good choreo in places.

H) Winter and Penny have good chemistry

I don’t have a ton to add here, I just like their dynamic and how they advance each other’s arcs. It’s nice writing. I also like Winter apologizing to Penny when she’s angry at Jacques and takes it out on Penny by accident with the “You wouldn’t understand” line.

Penny as a Maiden is a nice idea, I think her new design is cute. Penny says trans rights.

Those are a lot of my favorite things about Volume 7. It’s a killer season when it’s firing on all cylinders but unfortunately... it often misfires in frustrating ways, many of which are unfortunately due to core emblematic problems with the series that won’t go away.

2) The Bad Stuff

A) The costumes

It’s been a over year. It’s low hanging fruit. I don’t care. Most of them are still not good and they’re ludicrously over-designed.

Blake’s in a fetish suit and I wonder how she even goes to the bathroom. Weiss just looks like an abino Sabre alt, Yang is what a Halloween costume site would describe as “Sexy UPS Driver,” (why does she have a thigh window) Ruby... looks fine, it’s one of her better costumes. Jaune’s hair is silly, Ren’s model has lost some muscle definition and he looks like an e-boy, Nora’s costume really doesn’t fit the Atlas visual design and looks like a rejected Kingdom Hearts costume. Cinder’s is too black and I actually can’t track her in darker scenes because of it (which is kinda bad during... a fight scene... where I need to know where she is...), Neo looks like a Ren Fair cosplayer doing a bit for her OnlyFans, Winter’s is anatomically weird with super skinny arms and legs, and Blake’s hair is a fucking hate crime. 

Qrow’s is one I liked at first but in retrospect it does feel like a downgrade. To quote @h-e-m-o-goblin​ from a Discord chat:

in a show like rwby, where color is such a vital defining aspect of every character, a cohesive colorscheme goes a long way. qrow's original outfit works great in this regard. neutral tones. greys, whites, and blacks, with red accents that pop against the otherwise sparse color. it's good! it's distinctive! it doesn't feel cluttered and it doesn't look like a clown vomited on him! the subdued colors really lend themselves to the grey, cynical energy qrow seems to carry with him. a literal lack of color in his life. the outfit itself feels like something he would wear; a combination of "clearly trying to look cool" and "a little disheveled and laid back." the design breathes, it isn't cluttered. let's contrast this with his vol 7 outfit. a lot of outfits in vol 7 suffer from this problem, but first and foremost it doesn't look like something he would wear. where his old outfit had a casual feel to it, his new look feels like someone dressed him up for a family christmas dinner. it's too... tidy. now of course you could argue this is him "cleaning up his life," but i dont feel like you have to sacrifice his own personal style in order to convey that. if that's really what they were going for, they easily could have just, oh i dont know, given him a cape that isn't tattered???

remember how i said qrow's original outfit really made his colors pop? how less is more when it comes to having a character with a specific color theme? vol 7 butchered that. we suddenly have articles of clothes that are tinted with greenish blue tones, browns, and with gold trim? on TOP of the old colors he already had in his design. it's muddy. it's ugly. the burgundy vest is fine, if they wanted to work more color into his outfit they should have done it that way throughout, shades of grey and different tones of RED. his COLOR. it just feels like they tacked so much on there without a second thought and i really think he deserves better. its just. such a mess.

The ones I did like were Watts’ new coat (I like the puffy hood), Penny’s is fine, the Ace Ops look great, Ironwood’s new outfit is stellar (those last six are great examples of how to do a lot with just primary colors of white and red), Neon’s Jolyne cosplay is cute and Flynt is slick. Otherwise, Volume 7 feels like it’s taken a lot of the wrong lessons from the costume design of the earlier seasons. Less is often more but now it feels like they have a pathological aversion to empty space on the costumes, leading them to feel like... costume vomit for lack of a better word. I didn’t love the Mistral outfits, but their modifications at least were carried by how many of them called back to the Fall of Beacon and emphasized the themes of loss in Volume 4. The new Atlas outfits... don’t have that shared theme. It feels like a hodgepodge of different design influences without trying to find a way to unify them. It’s like putting Baki the Grappler beside My Little Pony, they just fail to mesh.

Also for fuck’s sake already CRWBY just give the girls muscles already.

2) JNR suck and Ren’s arc is glorified character assassination

I don’t love JNR. They’re fine, but the show has arguably not needed them for a while and while I’ve liked them all at different points, it’s never been adoration outside of Ren in Volume 4. I was cool with the idea of them staying in Argus to help cover Mistral after its Huntsmen were wiped out, and Volume 7 has... made me wish they did that.

Jaune is just comic relief, and it kinda blows for later reasons but the big one is that he’s just not very funny. His big role in Volume 7 is basically to crosswalk some kids so we can have a joke scene during the Mantle Battle where Jaune uses his tactical genius to teach people to walk in single file. I feel like at this point Miles is just actively trying to kill Jaune’s fandom out of spite for how badly Jaundice was received. He’s never allowed to be cool or try and redeem himself. His hatedom aren’t going to stop hating Jaune because he gets more comedy guys. They’re going to stop when you write Jaune well. It’s a bummer he got some genuinely great upgrades for his sword and shield and never gets to use them outside of the opening. 

Nora exists. She got a surprising amount of focus this season in that she got focus of any kind. I liked her confronting Ironwood over his choking of Mantle because we know she was once the kind of person Ironwood would have been stifling. I like her being the one to realize the loophole in Jinn’s “You can’t” line. I don’t like much else about Nora this year, or at least the Nora the writing team are pushing. She’s not funny like Jaune but Nora just absorbs so much screentime in the first half with her constant shrieking. Sam Ireland has good range but making Nora into Discount Harley Quinn is pushing her out of it. She sounds shrill, making Nora sound like she has no heart outside of the election rally. A shrill voice is one thing. A shrill voice that never lands a single joke? Yeah that character is tainted by association. 

And Ren... oh God Ren what happened to you.

The Volume 7 commentary confirmed a suspicion of mine that Ren’s arc was heavily cut down from what was planned. Even watching V7 I could tell his arc was bare-bones at best, and it’s downright character assassination in places. Why is he suddenly so cold to Nora? Why is he now so obsessed with training? Why does he side with Ironwood for all of... one line which is this last between episodes 7 and 11. Ren only has two hundred words of dialoge in Volume 7 and they feel so weird in places. Ren goes from seemingly disliking Nora, to kissing her, to never referencing the kiss, to partaking in the Worst Scene Of The Season, all with no consistency. It’s not even threadbare. Ren’s arc just has no connecting tissue for so much of it! It’s insane how badly Ren was hurt by this, and I shudder to wonder how bad his Volume 8 arc will be because you know that was one of the first plotlines they cut down on when they inevitably overreached again. 

I don’t know how they made Renora kissing feel unearned? But by God they found a way with how much of a trainwreck Ren’s writing is in regards to tainting this. 

If Ironwood is an example of RWBY doing character writing well, Ren is the mirror image of how badly they can do. JNR really suffered from Volume 7 (also fun fact, Ren has about 200 words of dialogue? Ironwood has 4400). Maybe not to the level of irredeemable dislike? But very close to being on the same tier as Cinder of “Just go away already.”  I’m not looking forward to their content in Volume 8. 

3) RWBY themselves are poorly handled in Volume 7

It’s unfortunate that the actual title characters of the series are also some of this season’s weaker links. RWBY feel... superfluous to this season in a way they’ve never felt before. It’s baffling how much of the season doesn’t change if you just don’t include them, and apparently Volume 7′s first draft? Was even worse.

The commentary says that many of the RWBY moments were added later in production. Stuff like Ruby and Renora at the rally, Blake and Yang’s talk with Robyn and Ruby and Qrow’s chat were all either added in near the end of the writing or were “low priority” enough that they could have been cut which is... veyr alarming that’s stuff even the main protags have to worry about! 

Ruby feels half-baked. I was looking forward to her in V7 after how V6 gave her a more dynamic personality and the focus she got in Brunswick, and having Penny’s return had me interested in seeing Ruby grapple with her emotions about it. She watched Penny die, how would it influence her to see Penny back and OK? Good question, we never get to see it. Ruby’s just OK with Penny’s return, the one time they touch on it Penny immediately glosses over it. Ruby just goes back to her old happy go lucky persona where any and all negative emotions are immediately forced down instead of confronting them and growing from them. I’m getting a little tired of Ruby bottling her grief and being teased about finally getting her snapping like a Twix Bar. We finally got her crying and it lasted all of ten seconds. And it doesn’t help that Ruby’s still getting shafted for fights. Her scythe choreography has no excuse being as flacid as it is now after Qrow vs Clover showed they can do scythe fighting! Why is Ruby being upstaged by (let’s be real) a supporting character! Why is she being limited to ten seconds of good combat then nothing for the rest of the season outside of flimsily swinging it or shooting. It’s disappointing, especially after how good V6 Ruby was.

I swear, Gravity’s not just my favorite episode of the season just because Ruby finally cries in it.

Weiss was kinda just done dirty though. At least Ruby has a good outfit. Weiss confronting her father has been a long standing plot thread for the series, it’s been Weiss’s Big Thing since the White Trailer. And when Jacques finally appears, he’s very... bland. He’s just evil corporate dude who exists less as an obstacle for Weiss and more just a roadblock for the plot through the election. Weiss finally gets a chance to take her father down and work to redeem her family name... but instead of earning said victory and it being treated with the same gravitas and emotional weight as Blake defeating Adam... Weiss has her victory handed to her. And it’s played for comedy by her abusrdly attractive mother. 

Listen, I like I Willow Schnee. I think she’s a fascinating character and I like the idea of a person who is aware of the harm they’ve done by accident but is too broken to fix the issues she accidentally left. I love her calling Weiss out on her treatment of Whitley. But she is absolutely a Deus Ex Machina that exists to get Jacques out of the plot as fast as possible. You mean to tell me Hackerman Watts never once made sure Jacques had hidden cameras? Or that none of the staff found Willow’s cameras and reported them under the assumption they were White Fang spies? It’s so... convenient. It’s handing Weiss her victory on an unearned platter. Which sucks. I was really looking forward to Weiss beating Jacques. Instead she just gets given the plot device while JNR engage in the Worst Scene of The Season in that Whitley food stunt.

Me whenever I’m asked to rewatch Cordially Invited

Blake and Yang have much the same problems, in they never separate. I know they’re going to be together. I know CRWBY are making it canon (get it over with already). I still would like Yang and Blake to have individual character scenes. I’d like Blake and Marrow to talk about being a Faunus Huntsman in Atlas (another thing that got cut thanks to Robyn Hill). I want Yang and Ironwood to discuss their PTSD and have Yang thank Ironwood for his trust in her that he commissioned the arm despite Yang attacking Mercury. I want Blake to be well animated in fight scenes so she’s doing more than just jobbing so Yang looks better. I want Yang to stop hogging all the good Team RWBY choeography. I want them to interact with other characters and continue to grow instead of feeling like two halves of one character. And no, making a meta joke of how Blake and Yang don’t talk to other people doesn’t make it OK. It just means you’re self aware about your own faults. 

(Also give Yang better merch or quit the favoritism. If you’re gonna milk her, put effort into it beyond crapply overpriced flannel. RT’s merch store is actively making me hate Yang.)

Team RWBY’s biggest contribution to the season is the Ironwood Lie which is... a can of worms. They certainly had a point in withholding some of the bigger truths from James but I feel by Pomp and Cirumstance he’d proven himself truthwrothy enough to warrant being told the truth about Salem. But then when he’s finally told the truth, it’s offscreen’d and the consequence isn’t “Why didn’t you tell me earlier” but “Fucking Ozpin man.” Gravity has it bite them in the ass, but it’s more an accessory to Yang and Blake telling Robyn about the Amity tower. I wish more had been done with the team disagreeing on whether the lie was a good choice or not, maybe have Yang be hardline against it due to her own “No more lies and half truths” policy instead of... having Yang tell more lies and half truths (Commentary confirms she never told Ruby and Weiss about the Robyn stuff BTW). But that’s a wider problem where RWBY aren’t allowed to disagree beyond surface level “I don’t know if this is the right call” dialogue. There’s never a threat of one of them cracking and just spilling the beans to James, everyone just blindly trusts Ruby and Qrow tells the audience “No this is different from when Ozpin lied. Trust us.” 

This is the most RWBY get for content in the season finale: Ruby just nuking Cinder with no difficulty after having trouble with the eyes three episodes ago. Kinda lame tbh.

Team RWBY are just disappointing in Volume 7. They’re not given good animation, their story roles are largely insignificant, the impact of their roles on the story is threadbare and... well most of their costumes suck don’t @ me even CRWBY have admitted Blake and Weiss’s haircuts looked bad. It’s a whole barrage of a letdown for the main girls. And it’s really sad that the best scenes of the season... are usually the ones where RWBY are nowhere in sight.

Why the hell didn’t Yang get to keep the sunglasses come on guys. One job.

4) Robyn, the election plot, and the Happy Huntresses

Oh God, Robyn Hill is... not great. I could and likely will write a full meta on her character and how they bungled it but I’ll just be blunt here: I don’t like her design, the colors don’t mesh well, he head’s too small, Christina Vee is sleeping through the role and her weapon’s lame. Introducing her in a scene where she threatens to attack our heroes, and her agents are actively sneaking up on them to do it, is not a great first impression for a hometown hero. And that the commentary thinks she’s meant to be the hero in that scene is... staggering. 

RWBY’s greatest threat yet is a wine mom Karen and her Home Owners Association army. 

The election plot is less a misfire and more the engine just exploding. There’s so little good content between when it’s introduced and concluded, with it usually being individual scenes that are more good in spite of their connection to the plot (such as Tyrian’s massacre). It drags in pacing, going on for nearly half the season between episodes 5 and 10, and it purely exists as a roadblock to keep RWBY spinning their wheels while Watts and Tyrian keep going with the main plot. I don’t know why CRWBY went for this plot. They could have easily had something else fill the gap that also allowed for a lot of the character beats (such as Marrow and Blake’s talk and Ren’s entire arc) to shine, or at least condensed it to the important elements instead of letting it become bloated. It ends in such an unsatisfying way where Willow just shows up and goes “We have four episode left, here’s the plot device to beat Jacques, get back ot the main plot.” If they wanted to do the election plot, the best route would have been to give Volume 7 more episodes or stretch out its events to two seasons, but neither is realistically possible while RWBY lives off the teat of AT&T. 

Jacques and Robyn are just boring. Evil corporate man and a lame adaptation of Robyn Hood who only has fans because of thirst who also like downplaying Robyn making a racist remark at Marrow (to say nothing of that weird subsection of Robyn fans who make her a Fox Faunus who cut her tail off to join Atlas Academy which is... certainly a creative choice especially when Marrow and Neon are punching holes in that angsty BS backstory). They can’t carry this plot and the artifical attempts to make it seem more exciting with the two cliffhaners ending on Mantle under riot or Grimm attack are laughably cut short by the next episode in each case opening the morning after. On binge watch it becomes weirdly funny more than anything and that’s not a good reaction. The dual cliffhangers being cheaply resolved is a short but succint example of V7′s pacing issues, and they almost always loop around to the election plot being too bloated, slow and just boring.

Also the Happy Huntresses are just... lame. I like their Semblances but that’s it. Fiona’s OK because she gets some screentime but May’s just “the surly one” and Joanna doesn’t even get her Semblance or much dialogue (oh wow she really is just a female Sage Ayana isn’t she). Robyn should not have been leading the HH and running for Council. That’s really stupid. And kind of wrong. Having May or Fiona be running instead while Robyn leads the team in relief efforts would have been better and could have split the focus more effeciently instead of leaving May and especially Joanna feelng like roster padding. There’s also some delicious irony in the show trying to frame the HH as the resistance fighting for the people and representing individuality, only for them all to have the same boring outfit and weapons (I think even the exact same model just with different sizes) while the Ace Ops are meant to be the military drones who are “Just following orders,” only for them to be more racially diverse, more diverse body-type-wise, and have more unique weapons. It’s another one of those odd creative dissconnects between what the writers wanted and what the artists/animation teams chose to do. 

The election plot is overall toxin for Volume 7, and Robyn in my opinion, has one of the worst introductory scenes of any character in the franchise (and CRWBY have tacitly admitted that V7 had a character they were surprised at how controversial they were, which has to be Robyn). In a year where they were already juggling so much content and characters, adding in this bloated subplot was something I don’t think anyone wanted, especially now that we know we lost so much content on the sacrificial altar for this. It’s a black mark on the season and I don’t really care for the return of the Happy Huntresses or Robyn in Volume 8. None of them are interesting enough to care for outside of meta reasons like “cute.” 

Also fuck you Fiona, can’t believe you got a shirt before Ironwood. 

5) Cinder and Neo sure exist

To be fair, this is one of Cinder’s best years, easily her best since Volume 3 but that’s more because Cinder in the Mistral era was crap. (And if I wanna be cruel, because Cinder wasn’t in two thirds of the season)Her fans were finally vindicated after years of telling anyone who dunked on Cinder that “nooooo she has a super covert backstory that’s gonna be amazing when it’s revealed! You’ll see!” And well they finally got it. All of one line during a fight about how Cinder “refuses to starve.” 

It’s still something so I guess we have to take it. Seriously... how do we still not have Cinder’s backstory. 

There’s just not a ton to say about Cinder and Neo in V7 barring I that don’t think they needed to be here. They feel very superfluous and just here to have a big boss fight in Cinder’s case alongside continuing her streak of ending the odd numbered seasons fighting a female side character... which for me became an exercise in tyring to find during Cinder during the damn fight.

And this is why when most people saw Cinder’s V6 outfit they went “It’s gonna be hard to see her in darker environments,” then were vindicated when it became legit difficult to see Cinder in this scene. God if they at least just made the inside of the cape red it’d be easier.

Neo is Neo, which means she makes funny faces and mocks Cinder (I like that), but she doesn’t get a super good fight which uh... we’ll get to. I’m interested to see her finally exploding at Cinder and going for a backstab, but really Neo in V7 was kinda hit hard by the double whammy of the Oscar Hallway Punch and how humiliating ORNJ vs Neo was for ORNJ. Cinder’s definitely had far worse years and after how aimless she was in Mistral this feels like a sep in the right direction, but at this point CRWBY just need to shut up and tell us her deal. It’s been seven years guys. Come on. At least make her interesting if she’s gonna say around. They’ve had worse years, but unfortunately Cinder and Neo’s role in the finale leads into...

6) Some of the fights weren’t good

I wanna be clear, I like most of Volume 7′s fights. It’s just a bummer the worst ones are back and back and make up a chunk of the finale. ORNJ vs Neo is just crap. It’s the worst fight since the Battle of Haven. There’s nothing else I can say, it’s poorly animated, paced, choreographed and written. JNR especially are made to look like complete jokes after they spent all season training, to the point where it looks like V2 Yang could solo V7 JNR after this. Oscar I expect this from because he’s not allowed to have fun stuff onscreen after accidentally stealing the Haven budget for his fight with Hazel, but JNR were just done dirty. There were ways to make the fight work in a way where Neo still won but JNR looked good. They went for the worst possible outcome that just leaves Neo looking like she got fan-wanked and JNR looking like they’re just not allowed to be cool due to Miles’ spite at the Jaune-Self Insert stuff (and that’s not even getting into JNR being forced to run from lame rent a cops who can’t even handle a single Grimm). Cinder vs Winter and Penny isn’t much better, with her dark outfit making it very hard to track the fight because she blends into the background too well. It’s not a great showing for Winter or Penny given their earlier feats but, hey, some random female character had to fight Cinder in this odd numbered volume, carrying on Glynda, Pyrrha and Raven’s tradition. It’s at least better than ORNJ vs Neo, but that’s really not saying anything. At least Cinder’s VA work isn’t too bad this time but this fight commits the cardinal sin of a finale fight: It’s just not super interesting because we know Cinder can’t kill both Winter and Penny and she’s not becoming a Maiden, while Winter’s been too blatantly set up so it has to be Penny.

RWBY vs the Ace Ops also gets a dishonorable mention due to the choreography on display here... and the lack of it for Weiss, Blake and Ruby. Ruby never once swings Crescent Rose the entire fight and is just reduced to getting the tar kicked out of her by Harriet. Weiss barely gets to use her sword and largely just sticks to her summoning and glyphs which makes for a very visually uninteresting fighting style at the best of times. Blake just swings around and gets caught by the bad guys so Yang is motivated to fight stronger. She never dual wields (again) and her best moves are just setting up Yang to do all the hard work while Yang gets to personally KO two of the Ace Ops. There’s a lot that can be said about whether or nor RWBY earn the win, but while the animation team try to sell the Ace Ops landing heavy hits, having only Blake’s Aura even flicker really undercuts the idea from the commentary that this wasn’t meant to be a stomp for RWBY and they had to work together and be in synch to win.

Which is why Yang solos two of the Ace Ops whle Blake plays support, Weiss beats Marrow alone and then kill steals Harriet from Ruby, all while the song playing is an extended diss track from RWBY to the Ace Ops about how badass they are now, and the commentary itself says the Ace Ops are hard carried by Clover’s Semblance (because you gotta love basically saying four POC were only competent because a white guy led them, and then have them lose because said white guy wasn’t around to carry them!). Great job guys, you really sold it.

And talking of Clover, I feel it worth mentioning Qrow vs Clover vs Tyrian. It’s animation wise near perfect, but unfortunately I do feel it would be remiss to not mention that I feel the writing really has to bend over backwards to justify this fight. A lot of it is stuff I would say in that hypothetical Robyn essay, but I feel Robyn, Qrow and Clover all have to become massive idiots for this specific sequence of events to occur, and for Clover especially every retroactive attempt to explain why he prioritized Qrow over Tyrian just sounds more and more desperate. Between the references to MCU Captain America (a person whose entire arc is about learning when it’s OK to defy bad orders) or the attempt in the commentary to say “Oh Clover thought it would be easier to take out Tyrian alone instead of Qrow,” none of them land and just further drive home how much the plot had to stretch and reach to get that moment of Tyrian killing Clover. I like the fight. But I hate the road the show took to get there.

Some of the misc fights are also weak like ORNJ vs FNKI and elements of the Mantle Grimm battle, but those are the big offenders. Otherwise, again, the fights are largely good. 

7) The soundtrack wasn’t... great

I mean the vocal songs only, don’t crucify me. Trust Love is just lamer Let’s Just Live/Triumph, Celebrate and Let’s Get Real are so boring I thought they were the same song until the OST dropped, Brand New Day is boringly peppy and Jeff’s vocals are dreadful. I completely forgot Touch the Sky until I was checking the tracklist to make sure I didn’t forget any songs. War has good singers but tries to sell the RWBY-Ace Ops bond as way deeper than it was. The lack of a villain song did really sting though, those are always the highlights.

There are good songs. I really like Fear, I feel it encapsulates the themes of the volume well and serves as a good condemnation of Ironwod’s mentality. Until The End is finally the Ruby song I’ve waited for since Red Like Roses 2 and I enjoy that she got a melancholic song, and Hero is easily, hands down, best track of the record and probably best RWBY track, full stop. Caleb killed it, I loved the second verse, opening opera was strong, guitar riffs were a plenty. Stellar work all around for that one.

The OST has great work from Jeff and Alex as usual, but the Jeff and Casey songs are really starting to lose their appeal. Going for a peppy feel this year didn’t help cover the cracks that are beginning to show with RWBY’s vocal songs (especially Jeff’s vocal range), and while a few standouts remain such as Fear and Hero, they are the slim minority in an otherwise very boring vocal tracklist that barely scrapes above Volume 5 for weakest set yet.

8) It wasn’t as funny as it thought it was

Comedy is subjective but man a lot of these jokes didn’t land. RWBY really needs to realize that does work in traditional 2D does not translate into 3D and just comes off as making official reaction GIFs for your Twitter account. Making characters SUDDENY SCREAM LOUDLY is not good banter. Please stop making Nora into Harley Quinn. Marrow was probably the most consistently funny character but that was it. Also I dunno why CRWBY thought Forrest was funny or what the deal was with that FRWBY crap. 

“Honorary” mention to the JNR food scene in Cordially Invited which is genuinely one of the worst scenes in the entire show and I hope whoever animated it has their save files deleted for a game where they were about to beat the final boss. Nothing sums up JNR’s pointlessness in the series more perfectly than this.

C) Conclusion

See what I mean about Volume 7 being frustrating? 

It’s weird that I overal think of Volume 7 as a mid-tier volume. There’s so much here I genuinely adore, with some of the best stuff to do with the show coming out of this season (barring lame, overpriced merch that feels like clothing gacha), but simultaneously the whole thing is let down by outside circumstances that unfortunately are ones the show can’t ever really recover from. Put bluntly, Volume 7 is the most technically proficient season of the show with the best lighting, backdrops, (some of the) character models, etc. CRWBY definitely didn’t slack off this year, but the problem isn't with them. It’s with the writing. A wider reaching problem is just that Miles and Kerry can’t really improve to the level that the series now requires. Eddy and Kiersei’s first season could have gone far worse, but it definitely was notable whenever they took over. Volume 7’s core problems are fourfold: The comedy is terrible and none of the jokes really land, the season focuses on the wrong plots and gives them too much effort, too many episodes are spent building up to new plots only for them to be weakly resolved (especially the Mantle Riot/Grimm attacks that are shoved off-screen), and the character bloat strikes hard here and leaves a lot of the cast feeling like dead weight. CRWBY don’t need more writers. They need more editors willing to tell the team what has to go instead of them hemming and hawing themselves on if they if they can include a plotline. The election never should have gotten past its first draft, there was too much already in this season before adding that.

When this is an unironic shot in your series... you’ve got character bloat issues.

At this point, I think JNR need to go. The show had no idea what to do with them throughout the season, leading to Jaune just being comic relief while Ren and Nora became characters I actively dislike. Renora was the easiest ship in the show to land, and they still managed to blow the engines and ram at least three icebergs just to prove that RWBY can’t romance to save its life. Team RWBY themselves are little better, with Ruby’s feelings about Penny’s return being shelved, Weiss’s victory against Jacques feeling un-earned and undercut by comedy, while Yang and Blake are benched for the volume and become a singular entity with how tied at the hip they are. Maria basically yeeted herself out of the show and I didn’t notice, Pietro is just a death flag, and while the Ace Ops had a good intro, it was undercooked by how they had to play the villain role to give RWBY something to do in the final hours. Cinder and Neo didn’t need to be here. Robyn had one of the worst introductions for a character I’ve ever seen, I never enjoyed her moments and it genuinely feels like she only has a fandom because RWBY’s community are in fact that desperate. 

On the brighter side, Ironwood’s arc is fucking perfect and Jason Rose deserves all the love. Great fight, great song, great design, love the beard, it was a perfect downfall for Volume 7’s true protagonist. Qrow had a fun volume and I loved his dynamic with Clover (I don’t see the ship stuff but that’s more because I’m an IronQrow main so my blinders were on). Clover was also way cooler than I remembered. His fights stood out but the guy’s just really cool at the end of the day, with Chris doing great work as a VA. Oscar even managed to do stuff this year which was a shock and a half, but a welcome shock and a half. I didn’t mention it, but the Ozpin fear monologue is one of my favorite scenes in the entire show and it and the Ironwood/Oscar confrontation in the vault save the finale. And of course, Watts and Tyrian were the MVPs. I don’t have a bad word about either of them, they fucking nailed their roles and I can’t wait to see them again. 

And that’s kind of what I mean when I say Volume 7 flummoxes me. It’s frustrating at times with how it handles seemingly easy tasks and drops the ball. Renora went from “everyone liked that” to wondering how badly Ren’s stuff got butchered for him to be the way he is. RWBY themselves could be almost entirely cut and so little would change, and the fact that the finale basically hinges its entire emotional stakes on Winter, Penny and Oscar is a staggering call. And it really feels like the season was compressed beyond necessity because they decided going in that Volume 7 had to end on Salem’s arrival. There’s two volumes worth of material here, and maybe it would have been best to have broken up these events. Volume 7 does too much in too little time, and RWBY especially suffered from it. But when it works… it’s good. Never close to the highs of Volumes 6 or 3, but there’s genuinely good material here. The fights are mostly getting better with far less missteps than previously, the acting (mostly) continues to improve and it’s obvious that RWBY is a very good looking show at this point. Ironwood’s arc is franchise-wide highs, I loved Clover, and Marrow remains the best boi. But it’s frustrating that despite all the tech advances Volume 7 has made, it still makes such threadbare, rookie writing mistakes in cast management, comedy and character arcs. I’m glad Miles and Kerry finally realized that they needed more writers, but it won’t mean anything if the show just continues to circle the drain on the core mistakes it’s been making since 2013. Volume 7 has good in it. But I can see where it could have been great.

Thanks for reading, stan IronQrow and please get Whitley a therapist.

And for the love of God already make an Ironwood vs Watts shirt! 

[kylermalloy]

my Thoughts on rebels

Now I don’t have any hot takes or any controversial opinions to put out here. Rebels is a simple show with a simple plot. There’s not a whole lot to analyze, but that doesn’t mean there’s nothing to enjoy. Sometimes all you need is a straightforward concept with lovable characters. So let me proceed to squeal about Dave Filoni’s second masterpiece, Rebels.

Spoilers abound!

Before I say anything else...

THEY HAD A BABY I haven’t stopped squealing.

Zeb Okay I’ll start with Zeb, for no particular reason. He was the only main character I hadn’t really heard about or seen much of before I started watching. In the first few scenes with him, I was afraid he’d become his stereotype—the thuggish gorilla who argues all the time, disobeys orders, messes up plans, and borderline betrays his friends. I was so pleasantly surprised when none of that happened. Maybe by virtue of being a kids’ show, these characters don’t have *edgy* or twisted nuances. Zeb is fiercely loyal. He likes smashing heads in and gets grumbly sometimes, but he’s never a hindrance. He’s not just “the muscle”; his ingenuity saves the day on more than one occasion. If anything, his nuances take him the other way—he’s incredibly sensitive and childlike in some ways. Being one of the last of his kind is a major plot point of several episodes, which brings so much depth to him and his psyche. It also informs SO MUCH on his relationship with Kallus. Speaking of...

Kallus I never, ever expected Kallus to be anything more than a season-long plot device. The fact that he stuck around and went through actual character development?? Amazing. The episode where he and Zeb are stranded together is gold. He’s got a sense of honor even as he works for the Empire, sparing the rebels as Zeb spared him. He develops a new set of ideals thanks to our heroes, and he begins to question and regret the things he’s done for the Empire—ethnic cleansing of Zeb’s Lasat people included. And that last scene of them in the epilogue? I’m not gonna lie, it was a bit shippy.

KANERA I know while the show was airing, fans were constantly asking when Kanan and Hera were going to get together. But for me, they seemed to be married from the first episode. Hera calling Kanan “love” and teasing him? Kanan constantly worrying after Hera while simultaneously believing in her ability to do...absolutely everything? Their parenting of Ezra, Sabine, Chopper, and even Zeb? Explicitly referring to them as “the kids” and themselves as “Mom and Dad”? Yeah, they’re married. And let’s not underplay their strengths as individual characters. Kanan—or Caleb—is exactly what you would expect of a Jedi whose training is only halfway complete. He’s cool and awesome, but also riddled with self-doubt and uncertainty. And Hera is the mature voice of reason this merry band of children so desperately needs—except of course when she’s the one rushing headlong into danger, whether to get a fighter prototype or to steal a family heirloom or to save a couple pilots in a suicidally risky move. She’s a perfect blend of mature reason and headstrong determination that makes a true rebel. (Wait a minute...she’s totally Katara! Maybe that’s why I love her so much.)

Now back to them as a couple! Most of the show did nothing to advance their relationship—further reinforcing my headcanon that things were always happening between them behind the scenes. Even though they became official canon in the last season, the appearance of their kid in the epilogue proves I was right—based only on what we saw, there was no time for them to make a baby. Of COURSE there were things going on behind the scenes. 😏 (I found the interview that explains exactly where Jacen came from, and I was equal parts ecstatic and freaked out.)

Did I mention THEY HAD A BABY???

Ezra So apparently there are people in the Star Wars fandom who hate Ezra? I guess I shouldn’t be surprised; Star Wars fans hate everything. Except the OT. If you hate the OT you’re a heathen. I can’t really think of a solid reason why people hate Ezra, except for the fact that he seems to be a Luke Skywalker analog. He’s a poor kid with Force sensitivities who gets adopted by a Jedi and becomes a venerated leader of the Rebellion. He also finds an oddball group of friends he comes to call family but eventually bids them farewell after the death of his mentor. They’re not carbon copies, of course—Luke’s an optimistic idealist; Ezra’s a cynic. Luke whines; Ezra snarks. Luke blows up the Death Star and defeats Vader; Ezra completes a series of far more complicated missions and defeats Inquisitors and Thrawn. Again by virtue of him being the star of a tv show instead of just three feature length movies, he gets a lot more time to have his adventures. Maybe there’s some resentment over him getting more screentime than Luke? Maybe it’s because I’m just Not a Luke Skywalker stan. I like him fine, but I don’t hold him up as some perfect saintlike hero. (I didn’t have any problems with his TLJ characterization.) The people who do need to rewatch the OT they hold so dear. Luke’s a beautiful drama queen and you all should love him for that. But I’m here to talk about Ezra! Listen, this child is a disaster and a half—just like Luke, just like Anakin, just like young Obi-Wan. There is nothing to not like about him—except that he reminds you of your favorite characters but he’s not them.

Clone Wars characters I initially started watching this show solely for the characters I already knew from Clone Wars. Ahsoka Tano has been my girl ever since I started watching Clone Wars, and I didn’t even consider watching Rebels until I knew they had undone her death. (If there was just ONE character they could needlessly save via time travel, they picked the right one.) At any rate, she’s perfect in this show. She’s more grown-up, more mature, but still retains that *young and plucky* spirit. (For the record, I usually hate the *plucky* characters. Somehow, she works for me. Maybe it’s because she doesn’t really do that annoying cocky smirk thing.)

But it’s not just Ahsoka. Rex survived! I’m so glad at least one clone (two? Wolffe?) made it out of the war okay. And he’s great here. His constant snarking with Kanan reminded me so much of his banter with Anakin (and I’m sure it reminded him of that too ;-; ) His presence on Rebels isn’t strictly necessary, narratively speaking, but it’s just a nice tie-in to the world we got used to in Clone Wars. It reminds us that this world with the Empire was once the world of the Republic, and there are still clones out there—even if there’s no place for them in this new order. This of course reinforces the tragic narrative of clones as sentient beings created for nothing but combat. And again, I commend both shows for making me feel that narrative so deeply!

Hondo and Maul were two of my favorite antagonists from Clone Wars, so seeing their multiple appearances here filled me with joy. Hondo cracked me up, as usual, and Maul’s farewell was touching and heartbreaking. I almost wish he were still around! There’s still his duel with Ahsoka in season 7 of Clone Wars... 👀 Honestly what surprised me most about those two were the way they were both presented as protagonists. Hondo especially, and Maul does become an antagonist again. But it really speaks to the way all paradigms in the galaxy have shifted after the Republic became the Empire. In Clone Wars, Hondo was portrayed as an annoying hindrance to our heroes. Now with the Empire as an adversary to our main characters, Hondo is an ally. An untrustworthy one of course, mostly in it for the money, but his interests usually lie with helping our heroes, not hurting them. Besides, nothing tops his relationship with Ezra. Their first meeting had me in fits: “You lied to me?? I KNEW I liked you!” (Also I forgot to mention the running gag of Ezra introducing himself as Jabba the Hutt? Genius. And hilarious, since some people actually believe him at first)

THEY HAD A BABY!!!

Thrawn I need to see this guy again. Whether in a continuation where we learn what happened to him and Ezra, or some other moment in time where we see him younger, rising through the ranks of the Empire full of ambition and ideas. He’s quietly menacing, always confident and meticulous. He does a great job of making the rebels feel helpless in their fight, needling their pressure points and taunting them—but he never makes the conflict personal to him. He always remains detached, just a guy doing his duty. He’s just there to pick up interesting art pieces. I love the way he’s acted—always quiet, cultured, practically whispering. I didn’t know he was voiced by Lars Mikkelson until after I watched, but that was a perfect choice. I found the Inquisitors a little flat as villains (antagonists, whatever) and the other Empire ministers and governors not very threatening. Thrawn was the perfect balance (lol) between interesting and a genuine threat.

MANDALORE For all of Sabine’s merits as a character, I love her most in the Mandalorian arcs. The episode where she comes into her power and wields the darksaber is one of my favorites. She’s not a traditional stern, stoic Mandalorian character. She’s a free spirit, incredibly creative and intellectual. Yet she’s also afraid of her mind and what she could create—for years she created weapons for the Empire to feed her hubris. Maybe that’s why she mainly sticks to painting throughout the series. :) Anyway. I look forward to the follow-up detailing her adventures with Ahsoka.

Chopper I rolled my eyes so hard when I first saw Chopper. Everything from his name to his design screamed “kiddie version of R2D2” and I was fully prepared to hate him. I don’t. He’s just like R2, in that every sentence he says sounds like it’s punctuated with about ten different swearwords. It’s hilarious seeing such a cute character being so surly and even threatening on occasions! Chopper kicks some serious butt. He even comes with a tragic backstory!

Lastly, I don’t think I’ve mentioned...

THEY HAD A BABY AND HE’S ADORABLE

[mostlycompetentwriter]

When You Least Expect It

Pairing: OC x Seo Changbin

Genre: enemies to lovers one-shot

Word Count: around 10,000 (yeah, I’m sorry)

Warnings: Smut (near the end) and Language

Summary: Changbin and Hanna had never gotten along, but they tolerated each other’s presence for the sake of their friends. However, when Hanna begs Changbin to teach her how to play the guitar, their relationship promises much more than hostile insults.

On Sundays, I liked to watch ridiculous Australian television shows with Chan and Felix. The two boys never seemed to mind, especially since the real reason I came over was to eat my way through their monthly supply of groceries. Plus, Chan and I used to fuck when we were still in high school and that boy owed me for all the free orgasms. “You watched Gumby in Australia?” I questioned, watching the disturbing animated character as it danced across the screen.

Felix shrugged. “It was fun as a kid.”

I unconsciously shivered, leaning in closer to Chan. “That’s seriously creepy.”

“You take what you can find,” Chan remarked, shoving another forkful of ramen into his mouth.

“I remember watching Teen Titans.”

“What was that?”

“Just some teenagers who had crazy superpowers,” I explained, reaching over to take another stick of beef jerky from Felix.

He hummed in acknowledgment, eyes still glued to the TV. Meanwhile, I could faintly hear the sound of the front door opening, but it wasn’t until he was standing in my line of vision that I actually bothered to look up. “Why are you always here?” Changbin growled, reaching down to swipe away the piece of jerky I had every intention of consuming. 

“How inconsiderate,” I remarked, shifting closer to Chan with the hope that the older boy would take pity on me.

“You know what’s inconsiderate?” Changbin continued to complain. “Having you over here every morning to eat the food that I paid for!”

“I helped,” Chan grumbled, poking almost ruthlessly at his ramen breakfast.

“Changbin is just being rude,” I consoled him, pressing a tender kiss to his bare shoulder as Chan seemed to recently take a preference for wearing muscle tanks around the apartment.

“Look here, sweetheart,” Changbin growled, tone dripping with his barely concealed outrage. “You’re lucky I even let you come around here.”

I snorted because I definitely didn’t care about Changbin’s comfort. “You don’t bitch to Felix and he’s here more than me!”

“Felix actually contributes to the band,” Changbin tittered. “You don’t really do anything!”

“I keep the boys entertained,” I joked, digging my fingers into Chan’s side to wrench free one of his trademarked giggles.

“I like having Hanna around,” Felix protested, reaching over to cling onto my arm like an oversized koala. 

I gave Changbin a smug grin, delighting in the way his eyes darkened further. He was far too easy to rile up and his quick-temper was fun to ignite when I was feeling in the mood. “Changbin,” I cooed. “Why don’t you like me?”

The younger boy was obviously not in the mood to play along, but it was still funny to watch him storm away with his fists clenched at his sides. “He’s too short to be intimidating,” I declared, settling back down with Chan and Felix to watch another one of Gumby’s whimsical adventures.

You see, I met Chan and Felix back in high school because of Hyunjin, my younger brother. And although Hyunjin would never admit it, he did his best to keep me away from his friends. “You’ll fall for Chan,” he explained when I asked why he continued to sneak the two Australians out the back door.

Of course, Hyunjin was right, and I eventually slept with Chan at a ridiculously cliche high school party. After that, we started dating for a while until we figured out being friends was a much better situation. Hyunjin was definitely grateful because he could finally have his older friend all to himself, but I still hung around whenever I could. 

Chan and I also started university first, and it was nice to know someone because I was terrible at making friends. Thankfully, Chan introduced me to some guys he knew and Woojin and Minho became close confidants. They were mature and quirky, deciding we could have just as much fun with a few beers and a game of twister as opposed to those crowded fraternity parties. However, that didn’t necessarily mean I didn’t partake in the occasional late-night gathering, especially if campus icon Hyungwon had anything to say about it.

Nevertheless, when Hyunjin and Felix started school with Chan and me, things took on a new and interesting dynamic when they discovered an audition sheet for a new band. Apparently, the group was relatively new and were looking for singers and performers to join. Thereafter, we were all invited into the chaotic world of music with a strange introduction from Jisung, Jeongin, Seungmin, and, of course, Changbin. 

Now, I wasn’t musically talented in any sense so I chose to merely accompany the boys to their frequent practices in the garage of Jisung’s house. Despite his parent’s constant bombardment, it was cool to have a place far away from campus to hang out and I enjoyed interacting with the others. I found myself growing closer to the other boys, even though we hadn’t known each other for very long.

However, despite our new acquaintanceship, I still had not managed to charm Seo Changbin the same way I had with the others. I was convinced the younger boy hated me, so I tried to stay out of his way. I mean, who would want to deal with his constant mood changes or annoying laugh anyway?

“I’ve got something brilliant!” Chan interrupted my darkening thoughts as he barged into Jisung’s basement waving about several loose sheets of papers. “This one will give us a hit for sure!”

I was the first to take a look, snatching them right out of Changbin’s hands who merely glowered at me in response. “Matroshyka?”

“Exactly!” Chan exclaimed, jabbing the sheets of paper aggressively before he sat down on the edge of the couch. “What do you think?”

I nodded my agreement. “It’s really good.”

Chan beamed under my praise while I relented the sheet music to a fuming Changbin. I walked over to Woojin, inviting myself into his comfortable lap, encouraging him to wrap his hands around my waist. “How long did you stay up last night, Chan?”

I studied the dark circles under Chan’s eyes as the older boy shook his head. “It wasn’t that late!”

“It’s fantastic,” Changbin gasped, immediately racing over to their elaborate set-up of sound equipment.

“Really?” Jisung perked up, tossing aside his notebook as he joined Changbin.

Meanwhile, Chan reclined back against the couch, folding his arms behind his head. “I’m a genius.”

“That isn’t exactly your style, Chan,” I laughed, feeling Woojin chuckling from beneath me.

“This is genius though!” Jisung insisted, running his hands through his crazy dark blue hair.

“We should record it tonight,” Changbin added. “Who did you have in mind?”

“Well,” Chan started sheepishly, suddenly shy despite his earlier confidence. “I thought it could be me, you, and Jisung.”

“I don’t know if I’m ready!” Jisung fretted, and I fought the urge to walk over and invite him into my arms. Jisung lacked in self-confidence, but I always tried to brighten his mood.

“We’ll do a practice run,” Changbin nodded as if he could already hear the finished product given the ridiculous way he bopped his head.

“This is exciting!” Jeongin added the youngest rushing over to Seungmin to yank out his earphones. “We’re recording tonight!”

I yawned, tuning out their adorable gushing as I considered the amount of homework I had to finish. I couldn’t stay tonight, but I wasn’t really needed anyway. And it would probably make Changbin happy. 

Woojin immediately protested when I left his lap, reaching down for my bag. “You guys have fun tonight. I have a Chemistry paper due this Friday.”

“But Hanna,” Jisung pouted. “This is our first real recording.”

“And you’ll do great,” I said, adding a cheesy thumbs-up. 

“Less room for her to get in the way,” Changbin grunted and I glared in his direction. 

What an asshole.

Of course, it turns out that taking my English essay to the library instantly became the best decision of my life! And it was in large part due to the incredibly handsome library assistant who casually flirted with me as he helped me find all the books I needed from the list I jotted down before leaving my dorm. I was practically salivating when he asked if I could use any help writing the annoying assignment. I immediately acquiesced and spent the next several hours in literal heaven next to an actual angel. Not only did I finish my essay, but I also managed to score myself a coffee date the next morning.

Subsequently, I returned to the dorm late that evening which meant I allowed myself to sleep-in the following day. Usually, I never ignored texts from the boys, but I also didn’t want them to ruin my morning. After all, I was meeting with a man with whom I was 95% sure I would marry very soon, even if that meant a shotgun wedding at a chapel in Las Vegas. 

At least, until I opened my big mouth.

Here’s some advice: just because a literal angel tells you that he knows how to play the guitar doesn’t mean you should also admit the same skillset. As it turns out, you don’t have to share everything in common with a potential partner. But I was enamored, and I spent several minutes talking about the really cool band I was apart of even though I knew Changbin would rather drink chlorine than admit I was a member of their silly boy group. 

“You should come over and we can play together,” my angel said, and that’s when I knew I was doomed.

After we parted ways, I sought after Chan because I knew the older boy had been practicing guitar and maybe he would be kind enough to teach me a few chords. However, when I finished explaining the situation to him, Chan started laughing hysterically, pointing a finger at me as he incoherently tried to form a sentence. “What’s so funny?” Woojin asked as he entered Chan’s bedroom.

“Apparently my love life?” I grumbled, glaring at Chan as if that could possibly intimidate the older boy in the slightest.

After filling in Woojin, and a mischievous Jisung, I had to listen to the three of them cackle like old men who insisted on making a “joke” far funnier than it actually was. “Will you help me!” I pouted when Chan started to settle back down. 

“I haven’t played in years,” Chan admitted, glancing back at Jisung. “What about you?”

“I’m really not that good,” Jisung shrugged. “But I know Changbin can play.”

“I’d rather deal with your mediocre skills than ask him. Actually, you could literally rip my fingernails off and I still wouldn’t ask Changbin.”

Jisung wrinkled his nose. “That’s gross.”

“The point is,” I reiterated, flailing my arms to regain their attention. “I can’t ask Changbin.”

“Why not?” Chan shrugged. “He’s really good and I don’t think he’d mind teaching you.”

I looked at Chan like the older boy had suddenly gained an additional head. “Are you serious? Changbin hates me.”

“He doesn’t hate you,” Woojin added. “He just sort of tolerates you.”

As if that was any better, but I was desperate, which is why I found myself lingering outside Changbin’s bedroom. I cleared my throat as I rehearsed my practiced speech: “Listen, Changbin, I’m really proud of everything that you’ve done with the group. In fact, I think it might be nice to be more supportive! Maybe if I could learn an instrument, I might be able to relate more to the music? How about teaching me to play the guitar?”

I let out an exasperated sigh as I dismissed my planned verbiage, choosing instead to knock hesitantly on the door. “What?” an annoyed voice called out, slightly muffled by the walls.

“I need a favor,” I said, fidgeting with my hands and fully expecting Changbin to ignore me completely.

What I wasn’t prepared for was the sight of an obviously exhausted Seo Changbin opening the door only wearing a dark pair of low-hanging sweatpants. “Why are you here?” he muttered, rubbing the sleep from his dark eyes.

I immediately shielded my gaze, trying to ignore the flare of interest after scanning down the broad expanse of his chest. “Put some clothes on!”

“This is my apartment,” Changbin retorted, very much unimpressed with me as he stepped out of the doorway. “I was sleeping.”

“Sorry,” I huffed, stepping inside his messy room. A complete disaster, if you ask me, with weird grunge rock band posters decorating the walls and a carpet made of clothes since he obviously doesn’t own a laundry basket. “I have a proposal.”

“What?” he grunted.

“I want to learn how to play the guitar and Chan said you were pretty good.”

Changbin was quiet for a moment. “Why the hell do you want to play the guitar?”

I felt my cheeks heat up, but thankfully my hands were still hiding my face. “Is that really your business?”

“Careful sweetheart, you need me, remember?”

I cursed his arrogance. “Fine, I want to learn because the guy I like can play.”

“You’re trying to learn guitar to impress another dude?” Changbin chuckled. “Isn’t that too much?”

“You wanted to know why!”

“What will you do for me in return, sweetheart? I remember hearing something about a proposal?”

“Of course, because it would be too much for you to help out a friend,” I muttered, finally removing my hands so that I could look him in the eye. Thankfully, Changbin was hunched over, somewhat hiding his naked chest from my sight. “I’ll stop coming here in the mornings to eat your damn groceries, okay?”

Changbin brightened. “Deal.”

It was likely the first time we ever agreed on something so easily.

“I booked the music room in the library for the week,” I told him. “We can practice there.”

“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” he sighed, falling back on his bed. “Now leave me alone. I still have an hour left before our second recording.”

Ignoring his dismissive attitude, I still held tight to the small victory I had attained in our agreement. I was a decently fast learner, so I planned for a few lessons with Changbin before I was ready to play with Hyungsik, A.K.A, the beautiful librarian who had left a memorable impression. That evening, I went to the music store and rented an acoustic guitar for my impromptu lessons. I also purchased one of those Dummy books because, despite the obvious condescension, they were pretty helpful guides.

I stayed up late that night reading through the book, nodding my head as I realized that it wouldn’t be too difficult at all. In fact, with some practice, I could have probably taught myself this stuff without Changbin’s assistance. “This is too easy,” I remarked, setting aside the book before allowing tender dreams of Hyungsik to soothe me into sleep.

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

“This is the first fret,” Changbin droned monotonously while I resisted the urge to reach over and shake him because he was going way too slow. After all, I told him beforehand that I had been reading some very extensive literature on the guitar. He must have ignored me because he started from the beginning with the basic foundational stuff that even a first grader could have learned.

“Come on, Changbin,” I urged him. “I already know all this stuff.”

“It’s important to memorize the chords-”

“Yeah, but when are we going to play a song?”

His accompanying smirk was positively evil. “I thought you wanted me to teach you, sweetheart?”

“How to play songs!” I emphasized, because how deaf was this boy? I needed to remind Chan to keep Changbin out of the recording booth for a few days.

“You have to learn the basics before you can play a song,” Changbin went on, ignoring the way I rolled my eyes at his deliberate reprimand.

“I read the book already,” I sighed, deliberating whether or not it was too late to beg Chan or Jisung instead.

“Alright,” Changbin said, abruptly shoving the instrument in my direction. “Play me a C Major chord.”

Rolling my eyes, I pictured the image of the chord in my head, slowly working my fingers onto the strings. “This is what the book said.”

“It told you to crowd your fingers onto the same fret?”

“To play the B string, the D string, and the A string.”

“Okay, but your fingers aren’t positioned correctly.”

“This is what the book said!”

“I’m sure it did,” Changbin managed, openly laughing at me as if I had started speaking a foreign language. “But your fingers aren’t on the correct frets, and they aren’t holding down the strings enough.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

Changbin smirked, jerking the guitar away from my eager hands. “This is why you should watch me first, sweetheart. You might actually learn something useful.”

I resisted the urge to snap back at him because I was still 90% certain that I had been correct, but instead, I chose to fume quietly while Changbin resumed his lecture. Honestly, I endured enough of those on a daily basis with my college courses. The last thing I needed was Changbin’s nasally voice instructing me on the difference between E Minor and E Major, whatever the hell that means.

“Look Changbin,” I finally interrupted him. “Can’t you at least teach me a song?”

“What kind of song?” he asked, eyeing me curiously.

“Something romantic,” I briefly gushed, reaching over to shake his arm excitedly. “I really want to impress this guy.”

Changbin’s look of curiosity was replaced with one of revulsion. “Who is this guy, anyway? I don’t understand why you already like him so much.”

“We’re getting to know one another,” I insisted petulantly. “You wouldn’t understand. You’ve never even had a girlfriend before.”

Changbin quietly looked down, and I was slightly taken aback by the dark look that had briefly obscured his gaze. “Whatever song you want.”

I cleared my throat, a little unnerved by his unexpected behavior. “Just play something you know best.”

A familiar riff filled the tense silence between us. I snapped my fingers in recognition. “Stairway to Heaven?”

“It’s really easy,” Changbin shrugged, focused on his playing. “It was the first thing I ever learned how to play on the guitar.”

“It’s nice,” I admitted sheepishly.

I strangely found Changbin endearing at that moment, watching him play as if there was nowhere else in the entire world he would rather be…

—————————————————-

Two Weeks Later

“My fingers hurt,” I pouted, presenting Chan with the sight of my blistered hands.

“Poor baby,” he teased, sprinkling tiny kisses across the delicate skin of my fingertips.

“That’s just gross,” Seungmin complained from where he was lying across Jeongin’s lap, eyes rapidly scanning over the pages of his most recent novel obsession. 

It had something to do with a stalker.

“They used to fuck,” Jisung stated bluntly, ripping into his package of skittles, cursing when a few wayward candies fell into the floor. 

“Don’t remind me,” Hyunjin whined as he covered his eyes with his hands as if burdened with a mental image of Chan and me together.

“Who fucked up your hands?” Woojin asked protectively, ignoring the previous topic of my coital actions with Chan.

“It’s from fretting the guitar,” I said a bit smugly, proud of my newfound knowledge. “Changbin is teaching me how to play.”

“Why the hell are you learning guitar?” Seungmin asked.

“Forget that!” Jeongin interjected. “How did you convince Changbin to teach you?”

“Tell me you didn’t agree to have sex with him!” Hyunjin gasped, bolting upright from his previous position on the couch to confront me, hands grasping my face tightly.

“What’s wrong with you?” I muttered, pushing aside Hyunjin’s wayward touch. “Why would I have sex with Changbin?”

“I thought he-”

“Hey!” Jisung suddenly interrupted, clapping his hands together rather obnoxiously. He gave Hyunjin a meaningful look, one that I could not begin to decipher. But I also didn’t really care because the two of them made for a strange duo. “Let’s talk about something else.”

“Yes!” Minho finally spoke up, rolling onto the floor to glance up at me through long lashes. “Let’s talk about Hanna’s new boyfriend.”

I brightened at the suggestion. “Hyungsik?”

“Hyungsik,” Minho repeated with a poor impression of my accent. “Tell me, have the two of you fucked yet?”

“Why are ya’ll so interested in sex?” Seungmin asked, slamming his book closed before knocking it against Jeongin’s chest. 

“Why? Do you like Hyungsik too?”

Seungmin didn’t hesitate to fling the innocent chapter book in Minho’s direction. The older boy dodged easily, returning his attention to our previous subject. “Well?”

“Not yet,” I admitted with a shrug. “But there’s a party tonight.”

“Hyungwon’s party?” Chan asked, suddenly remembering that he was also apart of the conversation.

“That’s the one!” I agreed, patting the side of his face. “Aren’t you going?”

“Maybe,” Chan shrugged. “Actually, Changbin invited me earlier.”

“Changbin at a party?” Hyunjin scoffed. “Did he produce the music?”

I laughed at my brother’s witty remark. “I always pictured Changbin as the type to fall asleep drooling on his sheet music. Since when has he ever been interested in frat parties?”

“Since when have you?” Hyunjin randomly questioned, as if remembering that he was my younger brother and should probably discourage such illicit activities.

“You could come too,” I joked. “You’ll give all the pretty boys a run for their money.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

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

Nonetheless, my younger brother could never resist the promise of free alcohol.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Hyunjin whined as I drove the two of us to Hyungwon’s fraternity.

“You need to get laid,” I reminded him, locating a parking spot further down the busy street, congested with student vehicles. “This place is fucking insane.”

“Yet another reminder of why I should have stayed at the studio,” Hyunjin continued.

“Relax,” I said. “Changbin is supposed to be here with Chan. Find your friends and show them how an amateur dances to 90s EDM music.”

I squealed when Hyunjin reached across the center console to slap my arm. “You’re not funny.”

“And you’re slow,” I shot back. 

The party had started nearly half-an-hour ago, which meant we were fashionably late and way too sober. I carefully pulled into the parking spot I located earlier, grumbling because I was forced to parallel park. But I was also impatient to find Hyungsik.

“Hold on!” 

“It’s your fault if you don’t keep up,” I said, reaching down to unzip my jacket to reveal the rather inappropriate blouse that I had chosen for the evening’s affairs. 

Hyunjin finally caught up to me as I carefully took the steps leading up to the front door of Hyungwon’s fraternity, teetering precariously on my 4-inch high heels. Despite the fact that the sun had only started to set, I could already spot familiar red cups decorating the banister rails. Kihyun’s going to lose his shit when he discovers this mess in the morning. 

“Changbin and Chan are somewhere in the kitchen finding drinks,” Hyunjin informed me. “Can you spare a few more moments away from your sweetheart?”

“For Channie, yes,” I agreed, allowing Hyunjin to act the part of a gentleman and hold the door for me, allowing the blaring music to spill outside into the slowly darkening evening.

Hyunjin and I did our best to avoid the main floor where the drunk Freshmen were already losing their inhibitions. We slowly skimmed the outer edge of the wall, spotting the open kitchen where a much calmer atmosphere prevailed. Chan was the first to spot us, pointing over Changbin’s shoulder. “What’s up?”

“Trying to avoid a literal mess,” I grinned, wrapping my arms tightly around Chan’s neck. “Did you find something good to drink?”

“Not really,” Chan grimaced. “There’s a punch bowl, but that shit smells like gasoline.”

“Live a little,” I joked, peeking at Changbin out of the corner of my peripheral vision. “I’m surprised you came, Changbin.”

The younger shrugged, picking at a loose string on his black t-shirt. “I like Hyungwon.”

“Really?” I snorted because I was almost positive Changbin didn’t even really like his own bandmates.

“Hyunjin!” a shrill voice punctured our small oasis. I saw my brother grimace as a petite blonde came into his line of his vision. “I can’t believe you came.”

Changbin chuckled from my brother’s side. “He knew you were going to be here, Mina.”

“Hyunjin,” the girl giggled, as if ignorant to my brother’s obvious disgust like he was looking at the personification of Evil.

“You two should dance,” I suggested, deciding to tease my brother. After all, he was the one who often bragged about his superior choreography.

“Hanna,” Hyunjin addressed me, slugging me rather harshly across my shoulder. “I thought you wanted to dance with me?”

“I’ll dance with Channie,” I countered, feeling nothing short of victorious when my brother scowled, reluctantly allowing Mina to drag him away from our small gathering.

“How do they know each other?” I asked.

“She leaves cute notes on Hyunjin’s desk in our economics lecture,” Changbin said, leaning in closer. “I think she might like your brother.”

Changbin’s close proximity was unexpected, especially given my body’s peculiar reaction, practically drawn to the mischievous glimmer to his dilated irises. “Is that so?”

“Her older sister is a total bitch,” Chan remarked, ignorant to the strange tension between Changbin and me. 

I tore myself from Changbin’s hypnotic stare. “What the hell are you even talking about?”

Chan shrugged. “Where’s your precious new boyfriend?”

I let out a gasp as I suddenly remembered Hyungsik. “I should find him and introduce you.”

“Thrilling,” Changbin grumbled, pulling back to offer the cheaply tiled kitchen floor a dirty glare.

“I’ll try and find him. You two wait here.”

———————————————————————–

My endeavors at impressive sleuthing were cut short, however, when I found Hyungsik talking in animated conversation with two of his friends. I couldn’t resist a smile as I pushed my way through the unwavering sea of students to reach him. Unfortunately, as I grew closer, I realized that he was swaying slightly, eyes unfocused as he took a long drink from his bright red cup. “Hyungsik!”

“Hanna!” the older boy exclaimed, meeting me halfway at the edge of the growing crowd. “You made it!”

His breath fanned across my face and I wrinkled my nose upon smelling the unpleasant waft of alcohol. “You’re already drunk?” I lamented, feeling a tad bit disappointed. There was no way I could introduce Hyungsik to Changbin and Chan in this condition. They would mock me for such a first impression.

Hyungsik offered me a flirtatious grin. “I think the punch was spiked.”

Nevertheless, I refused to have my evening spoiled so prematurely by my potential boyfriend’s immaturity. “Let’s dance,” I offered instead, taking Hyungsik’s eager hand and leading him to the middle of the dance floor.

I guided his sweaty palms to either side of my waist, expertly rocking my hips to the beat of the music. Hyungsik let out an uncharacteristic yell as he pulled me closer to his body, allowing more of the alcohol smell to completely blind my senses. “Are you having fun?” he shouted into my ear.

I was too young to lose my hearing.

And I gave up on Hyungsik the moment his hands started to trail messily across my backside, tossing his head from side to side like an incompetent rock musician who was well past his prime. “Come on,” I sighed, jerking away from his touch.

I decided it was time to help Hyungsik sober up from his premature alcohol consumption. I knew that Hyungwon allowed guests to stay in some of the empty rooms upstairs. My best option would be to lead Hyungsik to one of those rooms and let him sleep off his drunken stupor. 

“Weee!” Hyungsik giggled as he fell on top of the bed, letting out a grunt as he collapsed on his front.

“Yeah, what a great fucking time,” I muttered sarcastically as I yanked his shoes from his feet, allowing them to messily fall into the floor.

I made sure to leave Hyungsik a glass of water and two Ibuprofen before turning out the light. I was a good Samaritan, even when the recipient of my good graces happened to be a potential love interest who totally ruined my Saturday night and left me feeling completely deflated. Of course, I guess it wasn’t exactly Hyungsik’s fault since he was apparently unaccustomed to the ridiculous tradition of avoiding the provided alcohol at frat parties. Still, I was far more likely to kick Hyungwon’s ass tomorrow morning in our Chemistry lecture, if he could manage to drag himself to class with a nasty hangover.

Satisfied with Hyungsik’s condition, I slowly closed the bedroom door behind me, letting out an exasperated sigh. I should’ve known better than to expect a decent lay from a fraternity party. What the actual hell was I even thinking? However, my self-loathing was temporarily forgotten when I spotted a shadow lingering around the corner of the hallway. I perked up instantly, eliminating the short distance to confront whoever had decided to stalk me when I was obviously upset.

“Changbin?” I questioned and he paused in his obvious attempt to sneak away. “Did you follow me up here?”

Changbin cleared his throat as he pivoted around to face me. “I’m sorry.”

“Why did you do that?” I asked, taking another step closer. I was surprised to see an unfamiliar brush coloring the narrow aspect of Changbin’s cheeks. “Did you think I was going to sleep with him?”

“He was drunk,” Changbin offered as a retort. “I didn’t want him to hurt you.”

“Trust me,” I scoffed, “he was too far gone to do anything to me.”

“But you wanted him too,” Changbin said, an unfamiliar rasp in his tone.

“Not really,” I shrugged. “I was mad that he was already drunk.”

Changbin let out an uncharacteristic giggle that I found alarmingly adorable. “You should know that your brother is currently dancing on top of the kitchen counter.”

I rolled my eyes. “I hope someone takes a good video. He deserves the embarrassment.”

Changbin nodded, rocking back on his heels. “Are you going to leave?”

“Probably,” I said. “I need to get Hyunjin home.”

“I can help if you want?” Changbin offered, and I was quick to accept his assistance.

“Is Chan still here?” I asked him as I guided our way through the maze of intoxicated students.

“Chan left a while ago,” Changbin said, one hand reaching out to hold onto my shoulder as I led us into the kitchen where an obvious crowd had started to circle around my idiot brother.

I forced my way to the front. “Hyunjin, get your ass down here right now!”

Hyunjin glanced down at me from the pedestal he had made of Hyungwon’s marble countertop. He squinted his eyes as if he couldn’t quite discern who I was. “Hanna?”

“Yes, you asshole,” I growled, yanking at his ridiculously tight skinny jeans. “If you want a ride home, then I suggest you stop acting like a complete fuckboy.”

Hyunjin seemed to sober up at my reprimand. “Sorry,” he slurred, falling into my arms.

“Hyunjin, you weigh twice as much as me,” I grunted, whispering a quick ‘thank you’ to Changbin when he offered to burden most of Hyunjin’s dead weight.

“You guys are the best,” Hyunjin said, rubbing his sweaty hair against the side of my face as we were abruptly hit with a cold rush of air from the outside.

“Shut the fuck up,” I muttered, shifting Hyunjin’s arm around my shoulder as Changbin and I proceeded to drag my brother’s drunk ass two blocks to my abandoned car.

———————————————————————-

“Thanks for helping,” I said, tucking the blankets up higher on Hyunjin���s chest. “You can spend the night if you want. I don’t mind sleeping in my roommate’s bed if you want the futon?”

Changbin nodded, perhaps too enthusiastically. Nonetheless, I found a spare blanket and pillow in the shared closet, giving them to Changbin as a makeshift bed. I knew the futon was rather uncomfortable, but it was only for one night. Plus, I felt better knowing that Changbin wouldn’t have to walk across campus in the middle of the night by himself. Despite our frequent disagreements, he was one of my brother’s best friends, and I had started to grow closer to him thanks to our unorthodox guitar lessons.

However, the last thing I expected after settling into my roommate’s twin-sized bed was to have an entertaining exchange with Changbin:

“Do you still want a lesson tomorrow?” he asked me.

“Yeah, I managed to avoid the alcohol.”

“Will you ever let Hyunjin forget the party?”

“There’s no way in hell,” I replied, grinning at the dark ceiling.

“You want the video I took of him on my phone?”

“I would literally like nothing more.”

Fuck, were we actually getting along?

————————————————————————

“Wake up, asshole,” I grinned, curtaining my brother’s t-shirt across his face. Hyunjin let out a groan. “What happened?”

“You drank too much and decided to show off for everybody,” I said, sitting down next to him on my bed. “Would you like to watch the video?”

“Fuck you.”

“Perhaps later then?”

Changbin stepped closer, looking unusually good in his dark jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. “Should we let him sleep?”

“Please,” Hyunjin groaned.

“My roommate won’t be back until tomorrow, so Hyunjin should be fine here for a while.”

Changbin pursed his lips, rocking back on his feet. “Well…”

“Do you feel like getting a cup of coffee?”

Changbin and I were both taken aback by my request. 

“That sounds nice,” he said quietly, appearing unusually shy as he refused to meet my gaze.

Changbin and I ensured that Hyunjin would wake up to powerful painkillers before walking together to the quaint coffee shop nestled at the end of the block. “Should I treat you?” I asked. “I feel bad that you had to drag my brother’s sorry ass from the party.”

Changbin chuckled. “Hyunjin’s my friend, and I did get some decent video footage for my troubles.”

I laughed as I recalled the short clip of my brother rather unattractively swiveling his hips to a poor remix of a popular K-Pop idol song. Perhaps in another life, Hyunjin could have made a decent performer. However, given the intoxicated component to his impromptu show, I supposed he might have been laughed out of his audition.

“Vanilla latte please,” I smiled pleasantly at the cashier whose blood-shot eyes clearly exposed her late-night activities.

“I’ll have the same.”

“Are you copying me?”

“You have good taste,” Changbin said, and I paused as I processed his words.

Was he flirting with me?

Pushing that ridiculous notion aside, I found us a small table amidst the busy college students furiously working on the essays they had spent the weekend neglecting. It reminded me that I had also put off my Chemistry lab report for far too long. Yet, the idea of balancing equations of which I had the faintest understanding was incredibly unappealing. 

The sweet scent of vanilla was preferable, and I sipped at the warm beverage greedily. “Why did Chan leave so early?”

“I sort of ditched him,” Changbin admitted.

“Why?” I asked. “I mean, I know Chan can be dull, but he’s better than the majority of those people.”

Changbin shrugged. “I was trying to find Hyunjin.”

“My brother is clueless sometimes,” I said, mindlessly watching the steam rise from my cup. “I didn’t expect him to go that far.”

“He’s never been that drunk before,” Changbin added.

“No more parties for Hyunjin.”

“What about you?” Changbin inquired, a not-so-innocent look drawn across his features.

“Me?” 

“Hyungwon’s parties are always like that,” Changbin scoffed. “Your precious boyfriend should have taken you on a proper date.”

“Changbin!” I laughed, reaching over to take his hand. “You’re actually being considerate for once.”

“Call it a hangover.”

“Or,” I started with a teasing lilt. “Maybe you like me just a little?”

Changbin glanced down at our hands. “I never said I didn’t like you.”

I pulled my hand away, surprised by his strange confession. “Changbin, I’m sorry if I said something wrong.”

“It’s not you,” he insisted, struggling for the right words. “Look, Hanna, I want you to know that I don’t really care if you’re at our apartment.”

“But you always say-”

“-I know,” Changbin growled, clearly frustrated with himself. “Hanna, I need to tell you something.”

I nodded as a silent encouragement for him to continue. However, before Changbin could utter another syllable, his concentrated gaze had shifted, pointedly narrowing at something behind me. I glanced over my shoulder and let out a curse when I saw Hyungsik approaching.

“You have to forgive me!” Hyungsik immediately apologized, inserting himself between Changbin and I. Shaking my head, I had every intention of ordering him to leave after the melodrama that had happened last night.

But Hyungsik was persuasive, gently nudging a chocolate muffin in front of my coffee before flashing a dazzling smile in my direction. I swear my heart actually stopped beating for several seconds. “What are you doing here?”

“I saw you leave your apartment,” he admitted, ignoring Changbin’s glare as he pulled out a chair from the adjoining table.

I glanced back and forth between Hyungsik and Changbin. “I wasn’t exactly thrilled about last night.”

“It’s my fault,” he sighed. “I shouldn’t have trusted the liquor.”

“How much did you drink?”

“Maybe two cups?”

Fuck you, Hyungwon.

“It was spiked,” I said quietly, even though it was probably now obvious in hindsight.

“I know,” Hyungsik murmured, fingers slowly gliding across the tabletop to brush against mine. “Let me make it up to you?”

“Maybe,” I grinned, already knowing I would give in because I loved the way my heart played to a different beat around him.

“How about this Friday night? We could see a movie?”

“I’d like that.”

Hyungsik nodded, bashfully allowing his long bangs to frame his eyes. “You won’t regret this.”

——————————————————————

The following Friday, I tried to distract myself from my impending movie date with Hyungsik by requesting another guitar lesson from Changbin. “It’s early,” the younger snapped into the phone.

“I’m already in the library,” I said, running my hand along the smooth edges of my guitar. 

Changbin let out a noise of frustration. “Give me twenty minutes.”

The wait was well worth it when Changbin showed up wearing sweatpants and a hoodie, hair betraying the fact that he had obviously just rolled out of bed. “What a concept,” I remarked.

Changbin dropped his guitar case on top of our table. “Shut up.”

Thereafter, our lesson progressed smoothly, Changbin introducing me to a new series of complicated chords that only brought an immense feeling of satisfaction when I eventually mastered them. “I’m a quick learner,” I bragged in response to the impressed look on his face.

“Maybe when you can play an entire song,” Changbin grumbled, plucking at the strings of his own Savannah model guitar.

“What songs have you been working on?” I asked conversationally as I started to re-case my guitar.

“Nothing much,” Changbin said, fingers hovering around the fretboard.

“You could always play me something,” I suggested. “I’m a good listener.”

Changbin seemed to hesitate as if experiencing internal conflict, before nodding once. “I don’t want to hear any bullshit when I’m done,” he reproached snappishly, temper flaring once again.

I resisted the urge to offer a witty retort. Instead, I patiently waited as he re-adjusted the guitar in his lap, propping the curve onto his thigh. Changbin’s elegant playing soon filled the empty study room, gentle triad chords forming an unfamiliar melody. It was pleasant all the same, but I was still surprised to hear Changbin start to sing. 

Several lines of elegantly arranged lyrics that felt strangely familiar.

“That’s beautiful, Changbin,” I complimented the younger when he finished playing, enjoying his accompanying blush. “The lyrics are really personal. Did you write them about somebody?”

Changbin froze, fingers halting their movements against the strings as a wave of frightening anger settled into his features. He stood at once, rushing to pack up his guitar, shoulders tense as he worked. “I think we’ve done enough today,” he finally said, ignoring my protests.

And I could do nothing to change his mind.

——————————————————————————–

I was still shaken from my encounter with Changbin when I met Hyungsik that evening. The air between us was strangely awkward as we stood in tense silence for our tickets. It was probably my fault because I had been in a really bad mood ever since I left the study room earlier, clueless as to why I had upset Changbin. Nevertheless, I was grateful when we finally entered the theatre because it gave our unusual quietness justification when the title credits started to roll down the screen.

What was going on? Why did I feel so guilty?

It was only once we were halfway through the film that I realized I had no idea what was actually happening. The entirety of my attention had been focused on Changbin, unable to think about anything else other than the curious puzzle he had made of our last encounter together. Why had he acted that way?

After the film ended, Hyungsik and I walked outside together. “Are you alright, Hanna?” he asked sweetly, eyes full of concern.

“I’m fine,” I reassured him, even as the lie sat heavy in the pit of my stomach.

We went for coffee afterward, and I refused Hyungsik’s generosity, offering to buy our coffees in return for the movie tickets. “I don’t mind,” he had said, but I brushed him aside without really meaning to.

Hyungsik went to find us a table as I waited for our order, glancing nervously at the clock when I realized it was still pretty early. Was I about to ruin my chances with him? I wondered as I brought our coffees to the small booth by the window. Hyungsik took his order gratefully while I wordlessly sat down across from him. Did I even really care that this might be our first and last date?

“Open mic,” he said, snapping me to attention. 

I followed his gaze to the stage. “Do you want to play?”

He smirked. “Only if you play with me.”

Of course, the whole reason why I started my lessons with Changbin was for this exact moment. So, I allowed Hyungsik to drag me to the stage, handing me an unfamiliar guitar as we occupied two of the stools lining the edge of the wooden platform. “What should we play?”

“Something easy,” he said, riffing a familiar tune that I was able to easily follow, despite the strange sensation that something was clearly amiss.

It wasn’t the same without Changbin.

“You play really well,” Hyungsik complimented me, sighing when I didn’t respond. “Let’s go outside for some air.”

I readily agreed to his suggestion, abandoning our instruments as we greeted the cool night air. “I’m sorry,” I told him. “I had a really bad day.”

Hyungsik shrugged while letting out a sigh. “It’s alright, Hanna, I can tell when a girl isn’t into me.”

I perked up at his insinuation. “That’s not true-”

“It’s fine,” he interrupted. “You don’t have to force something between us.”

I sighed in defeat. “I don’t know what happened.”

“People change,” Hyungsik said. “Feelings change too, sometimes we don’t even realize how we really feel until it’s too late.”

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

Hyungsik’s advice haunted me for the rest of the evening, to the point where I could excuse my mindlessness as overthinking our earlier encounter. I was also acting completely out of character, something that Han Jisung was more than willing to take advantage of to benefit himself.

You see, I wasn’t a big fan of offering my extensive knowledge to the younger guys, but Jisung was always astute when it came to taking advantage of our dynamic. I knew he, of all people, would understand what was going on between me and Changbin. Which is why I found myself reacting to the plea for help he sent out several minutes ago via a long, convoluted text message.

“Changbin was weird today,” I later told Jisung, having agreed to proofread the younger’s English assignment.

“Hmm?” he asked distractedly, fingers tracing along with the words in his textbook.

“He played me a song,” I said. “I guess it’s supposed to be for your next album? It was really beautiful, but he was mad when I asked him if he wrote the lyrics for someone.”

Jisung glanced up at that, quirking an eyebrow. “Really?”

“I didn’t mean to offend him,” I shrugged, carding my fingers through my hair worriedly. 

“Do you remember the lyrics?”

I recalled them easily and Jisung let out an unnecessarily exaggerated sigh, looking at me like I was the one having trouble with homework. “You’re completely deaf, you know.”

I frowned at the insult. “Excuse me?”

“He wrote that song about you, idiot,” Jisung scoffed. “Changbin likes you.”

I blinked twice. “What?”

“Changbin likes you,” Jisung repeated, slamming his book closed. “I wasn’t supposed to say anything, but I’m really fed up with the way he looks at you like you broke his favorite toy. Which is his probably his electric guitar, thanks for asking.”

“Changbin doesn’t like me,” I frowned, soaking in the absurdity of Jisung’s claim. “I mean, if I suddenly went missing tomorrow, I doubt he would even notice.”

“Oh, he would definitely notice,” Jisung said. “Then again, if you did disappear for a while, then I wouldn’t have to deal with him brooding in the middle of the studio floor while I’m trying to work.”

“That’s impossible,” I insisted, even as I wavered in consideration of his claim. Because Jisung didn’t lie about these kinds of things. Seungmin? Perhaps, especially if it was for some practical joke. But Jisung? “Why tell me now?”

“I’m telling you because you’re flirting with this Hyungsik guy and Changbin hates it. You think he wrote that song because he just felt like it? Music has always been Changbin’s way of dealing with his emotions.”

“He should have told me,” I said, suddenly feeling a barrage of guilt because I really had no idea that the younger actually reserved feelings for me. Did that mean his hateful comments were actually a way to shield his true feelings? Because they had certainly gotten worse after I introduced Hyungsik.

“When would he have told you?” Jisung asked. “While you were still constantly talking about how much you liked another guy?”

“Are you trying to make me feel bad?” I frowned.

“I’m trying to tell you the truth,” Jisung tsked. “It’s up to you to decide what you do with it.”

——————————————————————————-

I didn’t bother knocking on the basement door. Instead, I knew it was better to approach Changbin unexpectedly. Because then he wouldn’t have some sort of rehearsed speech ready to counter my interruption.

“Hanna?” Changbin immediately questioned as I slowly walked up to his desk. “What are you doing here?”

“You shouldn’t have lied to me, Binnie,” I grinned, enjoying the way his mouth fell open upon hearing the nickname.

I leaned back against the desk, studying the way Changbin’s expression had morphed into one of complete disbelief. “What are you talking about?”

“You should know,” I teased him, carefully easing his chair back away from the desk, the small wheels on the bottom rolling across the linoleum floor.

I decided to act before either of us had time to think.

I straddled Changbin’s lap, encouraging his hands to fit around my waist as I slowly started pressing a trail of kisses down the side of his jawline. “Hanna?” Changbin faintly called, fingers squeezing into the skin above my hips as if trying to gain my attention.

I willingly obeyed. “Hmm?”

Changbin’s eyes widened. “What’s going on?”

I offered him a teasing smirk, leaning in close. “I know you like me, Changbin. If you wanted to keep it a secret, then you shouldn’t have told Jisung.”

Changbin cursed as I smoothed my hands across his chest. “I wasn’t going to tell you.”

“I know,” I pouted. “But how would I have known to do this, then?”

Changbin was completely unprepared for the faint brush of my lips across the seam of his mouth. But I was only trying to soften him, parting my lips sensually against his own as I allowed my tongue to trace the chapped ridges. Changbin opened wider against an instinctive gasp and I took advantage of the opportunity to lave my tongue against his own, pulling back to study his reaction.

“Can you handle more?” 

“More?”

I reached down for the hem of my t-shirt, removing the cheap fabric and carelessly tossing it into the floor. “I want to show you that I care.”

I ran my thumb across the swollen purse of his lips. Changbin’s tongue greeted the rough pad of the wandering digit. “Why?”

“Because I like you too,” I said, reaching out to cradle my hand against the side of his head, holding him in a place for another long kiss, savoring the novel sensation of his touch.

I rocked my hips forward, delighting in the way his breathing hitched, moan vibrating against my mouth. I started a pattern, pulling back and forth along the firm foundation of his thighs to distract him as my hands wandered down to the waistband of his jeans. I quickly noticed that he was already aroused, straining against the tight material, responding to my advances with willing compliance. It was all I needed to take the next step because the last thing I wanted was to move too fast. Changbin was far more sensitive than he allowed others to perceive, and I knew he had a kind heart that was far more vulnerable to the whims of those he desperately wanted to trust.

Changbin inhaled sharply, eyes wide and unblinking as he watched my fingers slowly undo his belt. “I think I’d like to feel your cock,” I admitted, making sure to whisper the words soothingly into his eager ears.

“R-really?” he stuttered, losing focus when my hand wrapped around his pulsing dick, warm beneath my calloused fingers. 

“Would you like that?” I asked him, running my vacant hand under his tight t-shirt, surprised to feel the muscle shaping his abdomen.

“Please,” he whined, fingers digging harder into my sides.

“You should have told me before,” I said, leaning back to allow myself enough space to pull up my skirt, leaving it in a thin bundle above my hips. Changbin’s hands finally smoothed down my waist, fingering the edges of my red satin panties while massaging across the waistband with rapt attention. 

“I’ve wanted you since Freshman year,” Changbin admitted, and I enjoyed this new dimension to his self-proclaimed “dark” character. A raw honesty that only continued to feed my growing attraction for him. 

I gripped his cock harder, squeezing at his sensitive tip, colored with a burning red that betrayed his desire. I shifted my panties to the side, feeling the muscles in my thighs scream in protest as I lifted myself above Changbin’s lap, lowering slowly, easy and wet.

Changbin released a faint moan, eyes threatening to shut despite his attempts to keep them open. I brushed my fingers across the flesh of their lids, feeling his lashes flutter against the pads. I brought our foreheads together intimately, allowing him to maintain the eye contact he desperately sought. “Changbin,” I softly gasped, feeling him deep inside, cock stretching my walls to accommodate our coupling.

“You’re beautiful,” he said in return, looking down at where he disappeared inside, lips falling apart around a gorgeous moan that not even his music compositions could compete.

My thumbs circled leisurely at the sharp juncture of his chin, grounding me as I slowly started to move on his lap, rolling back before pushing down hard again to stimulate a rhythm. The steady hitches in Changbin’s breathing alerted me to his pleasure, and that’s everything I wanted to give him. I moved faster, hoping to earn more of those seductive deep-throated moans from the base of his throat, watching him swallow hard as sweat started to gather on his smooth skin.

“Come inside,” I told him, noticing the way his earnest thrusts were starting to stutter, falling out of beat with the melody of our fucking.

“Are you sure?” he asked, and I was pleased that he had the wherewithal to question what might have been a careless decision.

“I’m on the pill,” I reassured him, kissing along the inviting skin of his collarbone.

“Feels good,” he panted, bangs sticking to his forehead the longer we moved together, harmonious chorus reaching its final crescendo.

His moans filled the studio when he finally came, hot and sticky inside, lips pressing grateful kisses against whatever flesh he could find. His arms held me close, as if afraid to let go, and I allowed the delicate chord to snap, chanting his name softly as my forehead fell onto his shoulder, gasping for more oxygen to recover my screaming lungs.

Silence descended between us like a necessary embrace.

But it wasn’t awkward because neither of us held onto any insecurities. Instead, we decided it was better to open ourselves to this possibility, hands exploring skin decorated with rivulets of salty wetness. Because it was easier to trust when you held mutual affection, holding their gaze to see past the depths of the surface. 

“Do you still want me out of the apartment?” I teased him eventually, just to break the quiet, clenching tightly around his flaccid cock.

Changbin’s head fell against the center of my chest, his panting breaths fanning out across my skin. “I want you in my bed.”

“Next time,” I promised him, threading my fingers through the sweat-caked strands of his thick black hair. 

————————————————————————–

“What the hell is this!”

The last thing I needed to hear upon waking up the next morning was Jisung’s shrill voice infiltrating my post-orgasm induced haze. Changbin grunted from next to me, pulling me even closer to his overheated body. “Tell him to go away.”

“Get the fuck out, Jisung,” I croaked, my voice hoarse from sleep.

“Are you two naked?” 

“Chan?” I questioned wearily, lifting my head just enough to catch a faint glimpse of his blonde hair.

“What time is it?” Changbin asked, raspy tone close to my ear.

“10?”

“Shit!” he cursed. “I have class soon.”

“Will the two of you explain what’s going on?” Jisung demanded, shrieking when Changbin left the couch, fully nude as he rummaged for his clothes. 

I simply enjoyed the view.

“What the hell, Changbin?” Chan growled at his younger friend.

Changbin promptly ignored both of his group members, pressing a hasty kiss to my forehead before rushing up the staircase, footsteps heavy as he frantically tried to make his lecture on time. Which, unfortunately, left me alone to deal with the aftermath of our passionate night.

“You and Changbin had sex?” Chan gasped. “In our studio!”

“On top of my lyrics?” Jisung screeched, pushing the aforementioned stack of papers into a messy pile on the floor.

I rolled my eyes at his dramatics. “He came inside.”

“That’s way too much information,” Chan sighed, grimacing as he picked up my clothes to toss in my direction.

I took them gratefully, working to dress beneath the thin coverage of the blanket Changbin had found last night before we passed out on the couch in the studio. “What’s the big deal?”

“Since when are you and Changbin a thing?” Chan asked, glaring down at me.

“I shouldn’t have said anything!” Jisung lamented, falling to his knees to shuffle through his papers.

“I guess since last night?” I grinned.

“Damn you move fast,” Chan tsked, joining Jisung in his attempts to re-organize his messy stacks.

“He’s a good fuck,” I remarked, laughing when Jisung started to splutter out dozens of curses as he frantically tried to finish his work.

——————————————————————————

“Why does it always have to be my friends?” Hyunjin questioned later on during lunch.

I sipped at my orange juice. “I guess you have really attractive friends?”

“It was definitely the guitar lessons,” Minho insisted. “They had all that time alone together.”

“But it’s still Changbin,” Seungmin frowned. “Is he blackmailing you?”

Jeongin gasped. “I knew it!”

“Stop it you two,” I said. “He’s not blackmailing me.”

“And did you really have to fuck in front of Jisung and Chan?” Woojin asked. “Jisung hasn’t stopped crying about it all morning.”

“We didn’t fuck in front of them,” I rolled my eyes. “You guys aren’t very supportive.”

“We’re in denial, Hanna,” Felix explained. “You and Changbin have never really gotten along.”

“It is strange,” Hyunjin agreed. “What happened?”

“He played me a song,” I shrugged, enjoying the matching looks of confusion adorning their expressions.

“Speaking of which,” Minho giggled, rubbing his hands together conspiratorially. “Changbin’s coming.”

I straightened up immediately, holding my breath as the dark-haired man stood at the edge of the table next to me. He glanced around at the others, running his fingers through his messy hair, uncombed from his hasty departure that morning. “Can I talk to you alone, Hanna?”

I anxiously followed him outside, unsure of what to expect. Changbin sat down on one of the benches lining the main sidewalk, allowing his bag to fall from his shoulder. I joined him quietly, trying to figure out the mask he had chosen to wear. “I want to talk about last night.”

I swallowed hard. “Do you regret it?”

He looked up immediately. “Of course not!”

I let out a sigh of relief. “I think I almost had a small heart attack.”

Changbin grinned, and it did wonders for the narrow aspect of his eyes. “What were you thinking?”

I bit my lower lip worriedly. “I don’t really know. It was kind of sudden, but I think I really like you Changbin.”

“What about Hyungsik?”

“He really wasn’t my type.”

“And I’m your type?” he asked.

“You must be,” I said. “I really like the way you fuck.”

Changbin scoffed. “Is that all?”

“You’re great at the guitar.”

“I’m trying to be serious.”

“I know,” I said, reaching over to poke gently at his chest. “You have a good heart. Otherwise, I don’t know how you’ve managed to put up with me.”

“I’ve had a crush on you since high school,” Changbin admitted. “It got worse Freshman year.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t think you’d feel the same way,” Changbin admitted. “You have no idea how turned on I was when you came in last night.”

“That was the goal,” I joked. “But seriously, I can’t believe I thought you didn’t care about me.”

“That was my fault,” Changbin said. “I didn’t make it easy on you.”

“It’s my fault too,” I sighed wistfully. “I always go after the wrong guy.”

“Don’t tell Chan that.”

“He already knows.”

Changbin laughed before easing in closer. “Does this mean I’m the right guy?”

I placed a quick kiss on his perfect lips. “I think so.”

“I’ll just have to prove it to you.”

“And I can’t wait,” I whispered into the seam of his lips, losing myself in our passionate embrace.

————————————————————————————–

I didn’t mind the crowds as they were becoming increasingly commonplace at their concerts. I learned how to tune out the screaming women, rolling my eyes whenever they tried to touch one of the boys onstage. I really had no room to talk since I could barely keep my hands off the dark-eyed lead guitarist who always managed to leave me increasingly desperate.

“Who’s your favorite member?” I asked one of the girls sitting next to me. She had been steadily growing drunker as the night progressed, squealing loudly whenever a new song started.

“Changbin,” the girl nodded, giggling when the man in question smirked in our direction.

But I knew he wasn’t looking at her.

“I think I like him too.”

And this time, I knew I had made the right decision.

[fragmentedink-archived]

Hell to Pay: Chapter Thirty-Three

I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X, XI, XII, XIII, XIV, XV, XVI, IX, IX, XX, XXI, XXII, XXIII, XIV, XV, XVI, XVII, XVIII, XVIIII, XXX, XXXI, XXXII

cowritten by @lux-scriptum

A/N: This chapter is very heavy. Trigger warning for implied incest, implied rape, forced prostitution, character death. There is no graphic images of rape or incest. All is implied. This chapter is very past!Cameron-centric, bls be careful when reading

Cameron was seventeen years old the first time he laid eyes on the golden eyed omega that was supposed to train him. He had been introduced to him by the name Darius and even if he had been here for several years, and Cameron was the bastard son of Asmadai, he offered Cameron the warmest smile.

Cameron gave him a tight grin. “I’m guessing you’re the one that’s going to be teaching me the ropes?”

Darius nodded. “That’s me. I’m Darius.”

“Oh, I’ve heard. However, I do not think I need to be ‘trained’.”

Darius’ face didn’t shift from his smile. If anything else, it just seemed a little amused, if a little sad. Cameron said, “Don’t give me that look. I don’t need the pity. I’ve known my job since I was young. I was always going to end up here. It’s fine. Either way, look at me. Who wouldn’t want to fuck me.”

“I do suppose that is one way of looking at it,” Darius remarked, looking Cameron over. “You are very attractive.”

“I know.”

Darius snorted and began leading Cameron through a set of double doors to a large room bathed in white and gold. Cameron looked appreciatively around, running his fingers along the silken furniture while he roamed around the room. “Not bad,” he said. “I didn’t think whores got paid this well.”

“This one does,” Darius replied. “I’m a favorite for a reason.”

Cameron looked at him. “I’m guessing that reason is because you’re hot?”

“Among other things, I imagine.”

Cameron wasn’t blind. Darius’ bright golden eyes and long waves were sure to be a favorite to many people. He just held little stock in appearances, himself. Darius was beautiful to him the way music sounded to his ears. Cameron went to settle on the couch, watching Darius move towards a small kitchen area where he started fixing himself something to drink. “Would you like some tea?”

“Do you have anything stronger?”

“Not with me, no. I’d rather not be inebriated in case my services are requested.”

Cameron thought on that. It did make sense, he supposed, but he also figured Darius would be getting fucked one way or another. “Wouldn’t you rather not remember it?”

Darius gave him a steady look. “No. I want to remember everything.”

-----

Cameron had kept himself busy for the last three months and it was still unnerving to be in the same room as Darius without any kind of ulterior motive on Darius’ part. Darius left him to his own devices at night and didn’t bother him. It was easier to get a night of sleep for the next day when he didn’t have Destris coming into his room to bother him every night.

But that didn’t stop Destris from bothering him any other time of the day. It just made it more difficult. Especially when Cameron seemed to be becoming a favorite amongst court ladies. Cameron offered lazy smiles to everyone he passed in the hallways. Lingering looks told him enough about who was going to end up filling his mother’s pockets by the end of the night.

Cameron’s muscles, as worn as they were on a daily basis, were defined, unlike the slender build Darius seemed to have. He had seen Darius in passing a few times that day, but they both had been too busy to speak much.

Cameron was leaving a lady’s chambers, buttoning up his shirt when he nearly ran into his brother. “Can I help you?” Cameron asked, annoyed.

Destris gave him a lazy smile. “Maybe later. What I want to know is why you are sleeping in that whore’s rooms when you have perfectly fine rooms of your own. My mother gave you the finest, and yet you settled for subpar trash?”

“Well,” Cameron said, “I’m sure our mother would much rather have a room where she doesn’t have to house her bastard. It’s best for the economy, don’t you think? Maybe she can turn it into a war room.”

That smile sharpened. “I think you’re trying to avoid me.”

“Why would I ever try to do that?” Cameron said. “You get my services for free.”

Destris’ hazel green eyes flicked around them before coming back to settle on Cameron’s face. “I do,” he said. “And I do not like having to come find you when you should be in your own bed.”

“I do apologize,” Cameron said. “I just think it would be best to be near my trainer. Since he is more experienced than I. What if I have questions? Whomever would I go to when I need to learn how to properly suck a cock?”

Cameron didn’t blink when Destris shoved him back against the wall, fingers curling tightly around Cameron’s throat. “I don’t know who you think you are.” he hissed. “You belong to me, no matter who you’re on your knees for. Understand? I am the only thing between life and your death. I own you.”

Cameron couldn’t form words even if he wanted to. The air in his lungs protested at the lack of oxygen to his brain. His eyes trained to the floor, even if he wasn’t an omega. He tried nodding against his brother’s claws. When Destris finally pulled back, it took all of Cameron’s strength to not start coughing. Destris looked pleased at what were surely new bruises around his neck. “You will be making up for your back talking when I see you again, tonight. Better get going. I’m sure there are plenty waiting for you to warm their bed.”

-----

Darius wasn’t quite sure how Cameron had managed to con his way into Darius’ chambers when he had his own in another part of the castle. But Cameron was now camped out on his couch with one of the silken throw blankets almost every night.

He hadn’t bothered to try and keep Cameron out of his rooms. Part of him wondered if Cameron would just find his own way into the room, or just force his way in and Darius didn’t want to bother replacing door knobs or locks every time Cameron would get in here. And oddly enough, Darius didn’t mind when Cameron slept on his couch.

Darius had finished his shower and was getting dressed when Cameron came through the doors as if he owned the place, but Darius didn’t say anything while Cameron unbuttoned his black shirt and slacks to settle on the couch; not when there were prominent bruises in choice places on Cameron’s pale body.

Darius quietly sat a cup of tea and a plate of food on the coffee table in front of Cameron but didn’t try to offer any words, not when there was the aura of lethality around him. Instead he settled in a chair across from him while Cameron turned into the couch. The finger-like bruises wrapping around his throat were hidden when Cameron pulled the blanket over his head.

Darius almost offered to see if he wanted a healer, but instinct enough told him that Cameron wouldn’t want one. Even with no power of his own, Cameron seemed to relish any kind of control he could get his hands on, even if control over his own body was scant at best.

“If you would like,” Darius said, hesitantly, “I can have your clothes brought here? That way you don’t have to go across the manor to get them every day.”

Cameron remained quiet, and didn’t move an inch. Just when Darius thought that Cameron was going to ignore him, Cameron hoarsely said, “Do what you want. I don’t care.”

Darius took a long drink from his tea, thinking about how sharp those words sounded. “It would be practical.” Darius said, “I have some tea here for you- it might help your throat.”

Cameron stiffened slightly but snapped the blanket off himself and sat up to stare at Darius. The black bruising against his skin clashing darkly against the gold and silver blanket hanging off his shoulder. “Oh will it? I’m sure you’ve had enough things rammed down your throat to know.”

Darius didn’t blink. “Yes I have. You have too, yes?” Cameron rolled his eyes and picked up the cup from the table and scented it. “There’s no poison, if that’s what you’re looking for.”

Cameron flicked him an annoyed look. “What a shame,” he said, dryly. “What about honey? I guess I can settle for that.”

Darius smiled. “I have honey you can use.”

“Good,” Cameron said, curtly, getting up smoothly from the couch to move to the kitchen area where he poured a healthy dose of honey into the earl grey tea. “It’s like you have no taste buds,” Cameron complained.

“Well,” Darius said. “I cannot cook. So, I do tend to hold little stock of what kinds of things I cook outside of what I need.”

He bit back his snort when Cameron looked at him with disgust. “Are you saying I need to feed you?”

“That is not what I’m saying,” Darius said.

Cameron arched a brow while taking a drink from his cup. “I think you are,” he said. “Why else would you tell me you can’t cook? I’ll do it.”

“You really don’t have to-” Darius started.

“Too late, it’s done,” Cameron said, turning back to the kitchenette. “I’ll make a list of things you need, but I can do that later. It’s too late to do shit right now.”

“Indeed,” Darius said, getting up to put his tea cup and the untouched plate of food away. “We both should probably get some sleep.”

Cameron nodded, taking another drink from his tea cup before hesitating slightly and looking at him. “Can… you can say no- nevermind. It’s fine.”

“What?” Darius asked, looking at him. “Would you like me to get a healer? Or some more blankets?”

Cameron still looked uncomfortable, but shook his head. “It’s fine.”

“Cameron.”

“Darius.”

“How can I help you?” When Cameron just chewed on his lip, eyes trained onto the ground, Darius took a tentative step towards him and cradled Cameron’s cheek. Cameron’s entire body locked into place. “Please?”

Cameron’s nostrils flared, but he still wouldn’t meet Darius’ gaze. “Can I sleep with you?”

Darius blinked. That was. Not what he was expecting. “I-”

“Not sex,” Cameron said, instantly, looking up finally. “I just. I don’t want to be alone. I understand if you don’t want to, though.”

“You want to share my bed?”

“I- yeah.”

Darius forced his eyes to not linger on the bruising still so prominent on Cameron’s pale skin. “Of course you can,” he finally said. “I’m sure it’s more comfortable then the couch you’ve been sleeping on anyways.”

Cameron looked visibly relieved. “Thank you.”

----

Even if it was cloudy out, Darius had found himself with a free afternoon with Asmadai and her cabal gone. Cameron had chosen this free time to sit at the piano studiously for the last hour playing, and Darius had listened contentedly until he started getting restless. And if he didn’t stop Cameron, then Cameron was going to sit at that damned piano for another three hours playing.

Darius sidled up next to him and drew the piano case down. Cameron’s long fingers snapped back before they got stuck under the weight, shooting Darius a dirty look. “Can I help you?”

“I’m sure you can,” Darius said. “We have the day free to do as we wish.”

“Yes? And? I’m using that time to play.”

“You play every day,” Darius pointed out. “Come out with me. We can go have a picnic by ourselves and get some fresh air.”

Cameron looked blankly at him. “A picnic?” he echoed.

“Yes.”

“That sounds absolutely horrific. It’s not even sunny out.”

“Just humor me,” Darius said.

“And if I don’t?”

“Then I guess I’ll just have to have a picnic all on my lonesome.” The flat look Cameron gave him had a smile tilting up on Darius’ face. “I’ll let you pick out the snacks.”

Cameron looked so pained. “Fine.”

----

Cameron was still annoyed by the time they had left the manor half an hour later, even if Darius seemed pleased with himself. Luckily it was still early enough in the summer that Cameron didn’t have to worry about it getting too cold yet. The winters in the Court could be brutal and even he didn’t enjoy it.

They ended up finding some hill to sit on that was on the outskirts of the city, away from prying eyes. Cameron let Darius sprawl the blanket out on the grass and spread the food out before Cameron sat down and squinted around him. “Are we supposed to just… sit here and eat? We could do this back in our room,” he said. “There is no point of doing this out here.”

“It’s for the aesthetic, Cameron,” Darius said, looking into the basket of food Cameron had packed. “The ambiance.”

“It’s cloudy,” Cameron said, reaching for his own food. “The ambiance is tainted by shitty weather, Darius.”

Darius hummed and bit into his sandwich. “Mm. I think you’ve just been cooped inside for too long. Your already pale complexion is even more pale. However will you get the vitamin D that you need for a healthy body.”

“By dick in my ass, I imagine,” Cameron muttered under his breath.

“Wrong vitamin,” Darius said. “Interestingly enough, that’s vitamin C. Amongst other things.”

Cameron rolled his eyes. “I’ll remember that next time my face is in a mattress.”

“What is it you want, Cameron?” Darius asked, looking up at the idiotically grey sky. “If you could have anything, be anyone, right now, what would it be.”

“Does it matter?” Cameron said, laying on his back, closing his eyes. “Wanting things has never been in my vocabulary. It’s irrelevant and a waste of time. I’m not even a person. Tools of war have but one purpose. To cause damage.”

He could feel Darius’ brilliant gold eyes on him, and Cameron didn’t like it. “Well,” Darius said, softly. “I think you have done the least amount of damage to me out of everyone I have ever come in contact with.”

Cameron opened his eyes and looked at him tiredly. “For now,” he said, softly enough, Cameron almost hated both himself and Darius.

Darius just laid down next to him and folded his hands over his stomach. “I think I want a place of my own,” he said. “I’d like a family, children. Sure, it could be because I’m an omega. But I think… I just want a family. Never had one.”

Family’s overrated, Cameron almost felt compelled to say. Instead he offered Darius the mercy of hopeless causes. “Sounds nice,” he said, mildly. “I guess… I’d just want to be left alone to cook and make music. That’s all I want. Not going to get it, so I don’t waste my breath. But… it’d be nice.”

Darius nudged him. “I think you’re getting the hang of it.”

Cameron closed his eyes again. “”Don’t touch me.”

-----

A month later and Darius was still letting Cameron sleep in his bed. Every night since that first night Cameron asked, and every night, Darius said yes. But there were some where Cameron never came back to the room at all. Darius didn’t have the bravery to ask Cameron about it, especially when Cameron seemed to be more distant those next mornings. But Darius always provided Cameron tea and honey when he came back.

They had both been reading for hours by the time Cameron’s services were requested. Darius read in the same spot for several more hours before Cameron came back. Cameron returned to sit next to him on the couch, watching Darius tiredly. Darius offered him no words, not wanting to break Cameron’s silence.

Eventually Darius felt the weight of Cameron’s head against his shoulder. He dared to look over, careful to not move too much. As he thought, Cameron had fallen asleep, his white hair falling over his closed eyes, smoothing out the perpetual annoyed look on his face.

Darius resisted the urge to move the hair away from Cameron’s elegant face, but remained in control of his impulses. Instead he turned back to his book and felt himself smile when Cameron settled more against him. Darius awkwardly reached for the throw blanket and threw it around Cameron’s bare shoulders before turning back to his book.

----

“Okay, but you learn absolutely nothing from those books,” Cameron said, looking distastefully at the paperback romance novel in Darius’ hands. “It’s pure fantasy. Life’s too bloody and miserable for anything like that to come true.”

“Okay,” Darius said. “But consider this. That’s the point. It’s a fantasy, it’s something to hope for some day. Sure, a whirlwind romance like the one in this book could be hard to imagine, but that doesn’t mean romance in the world is dead. Nothing can kill true love, no matter how hard some try.”

Cameron gave him a long, skeptical look, but elected to not tell him that love didn’t exist. “I still think the right books are the ones where you actually learn something. Otherwise it’s just a waste of time and paper.”

“Not everyone can read just nonfiction like you can, Cameron.”

“That’s because not everyone has good taste,” Cameron said, propping his legs up on Darius’ lap, eyes turning back to his own book. “Not only is it useful, I am not wasting my time chasing fantasies.”

Darius sighed softly and just patted Cameron’s leg. “It must be quite exhausting in your head, my Cameron.”

Cameron glowered at him over his book. “No more exhausting than in yours, I imagine, my nuisance. It’s a special kind of hell chasing fantasies when you should be focusing on survival.”

“Oh Cameron,” Darius said, softly. “There is so much more to life than surviving.”

-------

It was a rare night when both Cameron and Darius had the same time off. Cameron had made the habit of fixing them both dinner in the evenings, even when they both weren’t in the room at the same time. It was the only way Cameron could convince himself to eat.

He could feel Darius staring at him while they ate. Cameron pretended to not notice how Darius’ sneaking looks kept lingering on his face. Finally Cameron looked up from his meal and met his gaze steadily. “Is there a particular reason you are staring at me?”

Darius didn’t even blink. “Because you’re beautiful.”

Cameron rose a brow. “Yes, I am. But that doesn’t explain why you are staring at me when you’ve seen my face every night for the last four months.”

“Okay,” Darius said, annoyed enough Cameron’s mouth lifted. “I’m staring at you because I want to kiss you. Haven’t done that in the last four months.”

Cameron blinked. “You- why? I mean I know why, as I have seen my reflection, but-”

“Believe it or not, I do appreciate your company.”

He was annoyed. “Well as long as you appreciate it-”

Darius leaned over and covered Cameron’s mouth with his golden hand. “Cameron. Let me- just. Please stop talking.” Cameron glared at him, but didn’t snap his wrist at the unneeded censorship. Darius gave him a firm look before removing his hand. “Whether you want to believe it or not… I know you feel the same way too. You don’t… you don’t have to act on it, or you can even leave if you want. But just. Don’t lie, not about this. About me. Because I’m your truth.”

For the first time, Cameron had to force himself to hold those golden eyes. He… He didn’t know what he felt. Was- Did he feel safe? Was that how Darius made him feel? He made him feel warm, not like a walking corpse, not used. But… That didn’t mean anything, did it? It just meant he was decent enough to not pay Cameron to take him to bed. “I… don’t know what that means. I don’t know what you mean to me. You’re just. I don’t know what you are. You’re just not my enemy. I’m safe with you.”

“You are safe with me,” Darius said.

“But are you safe with me,” Cameron countered.

Darius seemed to think about that. Cameron stared him down for what felt like an eternity before Darius said, “You live a very bloody life, Cameron. I think I’d be a fool to think I was ever completely safe, even with you. But that doesn’t stop me from caring about you, from wanting you in whatever way you’ll have me.”

“There are so, so many more people that you could want, Darius,” Cameron said. “Or is it because I am Asmadai’s bastard that you’re interested.”

Darius looked genuinely hurt and taken aback. “No, of course not. I have no desire to have her ear. I just want you.”

Cameron stared at him. He opened his mouth and closed it several times, at a loss of words. How the fuck was he supposed to answer this. He felt like there should be some kind of catch. There had to be, but he couldn’t figure out what if it wasn’t because Darius wanted at his mother. “I have been nothing but a pain in the ass to you,” he finally said.

“A cross I am willing to bear,” he said, solemnly.

“I…” Cameron sighed sharply. “I don’t know.. How to be what you want.”

“You make it sound like I actually know how a relationship is supposed to go,” Darius pointed out.

“Don’t your fancy romance novels tell you,” Cameron said, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice.

“I thought you said those were a fantasy?”

“They are,” Cameron said, flatly.

“Then I don’t see why we can’t work together to figure it- us- out,” Darius said. “Since romance novels seem to not be construction manuals.”

Cameron gnawed on his lip. “But why. I don’t understand why.”

“Why I like you? Care for you?”

“Yes,” Cameron said, exasperated.

“That is a good question,” Darius mused. “One I do not know the answer to. I just like you. You amuse me, keep me company. You make sure I don’t starve. Surely that has to count for something.”

“Are you saying you want me because I can cook.”

“Oh absolutely.”

“Well at least that makes sense,” Cameron muttered under his breath.

“I know what you’re doing,” Darius said. “And it’s not going to keep working.”

“I think it’s working quite well,” Cameron replied.

“I’m sure you do, however, we are all allowed to be wrong sometimes.”

“I am not wrong,” Cameron snapped.

Darius smiled. “Then prove it.”

Cameron’s nostrils flared. “You’re mocking me and I do not like it.”

“Am I?”

“Yes you are,” Cameron said, knowing damn well Darius was baiting him. “I think you like making a fool out of me.”

Darius’ eyes glittered in amusement and Cameron frowned. Darius leaned forward and cradled Cameron’s face, sending a jolt of electricity through his core. Cameron looked down, trying to ignore the tingling in his face. “Look at me?”

Cameron forced his eyes up. The words died in his throat.

Cameron somehow felt warm and ice cold at the same time. He was sitting too still and he was too restless. He wanted… he didn’t know what he wanted. To run or to stay. He wasn’t sure if he felt safe or not, but he didn’t see any threats, his mind was betraying him, looking for an out, but there was only Darius. “What?” he rasped.

The way Darius looked at him had Cameron wanting to shatter something. “What are you feeling, right now?”

“I already told you. I think you like making a fool out of me.”

“Don’t do that. Don’t do that to me. Tell me what you’re feeling.”

Cameron could almost taste the metallic flavor of his venom. “Threatened,” Cameron finally said. “I’m feeling threatened and I don’t know why.”

Darius stilled just slightly enough Cameron straightened. “Do you want me to move my hand?” he asked.

“I don’t.”

“Do you want me to leave?”

“I don’t.”

“What do you want?”

Cameron gazed at him in silence. That was the question, wasn’t it. He couldn’t very well just say him, that would make Darius his, and that would mean he would be Destris’ and Cameron couldn’t do anything against his brother. It had been well trained into him since he was seven years old.

“I want…” Cameron’s voice faltered. He closed his mouth. “I can’t want anything.”

“Cameron.”

The last of his nerves frayed. “Don’t you get it,” he snapped. “I can’t want anything. I can’t want you, I can’t want my own kitchen or a damn piano or anything. I am not a person. You are not a person. We are not people. We are tools for the elite to warm beds, or in my case to slit throats when my father wishes. If I so much as try to want something Destris will find out and he will take it away from me. He will have me on my knees one way or another, Darius, and that makes you a liability.”

Darius tried for a small smile. “Are you saying I’m important to you?”

“I’m saying you make it extremely inconvenient to be me,” Cameron said, crossly. “You’re not… supposed to. Make me feel like- you’re not supposed to make me feel. It’s a distraction. You are a distraction.”

“A distraction from what?”

“Survival.” The faint way Darius’ thumb brushed against Cameron’s cheek made Cameron shiver. “You are a threat to me and I can’t protect you.”

“I don’t need you to protect me,” Darius said, pressing his forehead against Cameron’s. “I need you to take what you want. To do what you want. To do more than survive. You deserve to live, Cameron. You deserve more than what you have been given.”

The cinnamon and thyme scent filled his nose and Cameron closed his eyes. “No I don’t,” he said, weakly. “I don’t deserve anything just because I’m alive. I am a bastard. In the eyes of every single demon of the realm, I am not a person.”

“You are to me,” Darius said, softly.

Cameron looked at him for what felt like an eternity. “Then you’re a fool,” he said. Cameron leaned over, hesitated only slightly before kissing him on the mouth. The softness of Darius’ slightly parted lips undone him in a way that had Cameron abruptly pulling back and staring at him.

His breath was shallow and he could barely breathe. Darius somehow looked alarmed and perfectly calm at the same time, but Cameron didn’t give him the chance to say anything before getting to his feet and stalking out of the room.

Cameron nearly bulldozed into several court people on his way outside. He reached for a pack of cigarettes he had in his pockets and had one half lit before the familiar hazel green eyes appeared in front of him. “I do hope you have a plan on fixing your teeth if you’re going to smoke those. Mother will not be happy if your value drops because of yellow teeth.”

Cameron didn’t have the energy to quip at him. Instead he just took a singular drag from his cigarette and tiredly said, “Of course. Mustn’t damage the merchandise. Many do enjoy being bitten in bed.”

“Mm. Do you?”

“Does it matter if I do or not?”

“Not really, but I thought I’d humor you.” When Cameron didn’t say anything, Destris took his chin and forced Cameron to meet his eyes. “Are you ill?” he mused. “Perhaps you lost the ability to use your tongue. Should I see?”

“If you choose so,” Cameron said, mildly. “I can assure you my skills are up to par. Just in a sour mood, that’s all.”

“I might take you up on that later,” Destris said. “It is your day off after all. You need your rest.”

“Much appreciated,” Cameron said. “Do you need anything else?”

“No, I do not think so. Just wanted to make sure my idiot toy isn’t doing something stupid like permenantly marring his body.”

---

Darius waited up for hours upon hours, nearly reaching into daylight for Cameron to come back, not even knowing if Cameron was going to come back. But when he finally did, Cameron was back to his normal untouchable self. He seemed to have regained that faux composure he had spent the last seventeen years perfecting. Even if he did stumble a little when he locked eyes with Darius. “You’re still awake,” was all Cameron said. “I’ve been gone for nearly eight hours.”

“I wanted to be awake in case you came back.”

“Why wouldn’t I come back,” Cameron said, mildly.

“Why would you bolt like a rabbit after kissing me?”

Cameron worked his jaw. “Apparently becuase I thrive on making stupid decisions.”

Darius couldn’t help the way his mouth lifted at the corner. “I don’t think you made a stupid decision.”

“Of course you don’t,” Cameron said. “You wanted me to kiss you. And now I broke the rules. For another whore. One who quite possibly has the power to destroy me.”

Darius gave him a long, steady look. He didn’t think anything could possibly destroy Cameron. He was still standing now despite life and he would still be standing a thousand years from now despite a thousand lives. “You kissed me because you wanted to.”

Cameron didn’t even blink; his face didn’t even move, either. Cameron just met Darius’ look for look and there was pure alpha in those pale blue eyes. It was an effort to not give into his own instincts and bare his throat, especially when Cameron appeared much closer in front of him. He wasn’t sure who moved first or if they had always been this close. Cameron gripped Darius’ chin and glared down at him. “Don’t put a knife in my back,” he said, softly.

I won’t if you won’t, Darius thought, as if he actually had the power or the training to be able to do so. Darius put a hesitant hand on Cameron’s tapered waist. His skin was somehow warm and ice cold at the same time, just as heated and frigid as his stare. “Okay,” he said, in equal softness.

“Okay,” Cameron said, firmly. He let go of Darius’ chin and hesitated only slightly before letting the ice thaw on his face. “This… whatever this is,” Cameron said, “Is between us. Outside of these rooms, we are nothing. We are no one. You are nothing to me. Understand? I cannot and will not protect you if it comes down to it. Your survival is up to you and you alone.”

“I completely understand,” Darius said, other hand moving to Cameron’s other side. He waited for Cameron to move, to say something, but he kept watching Darius with those eyes before slowly letting out a soft breath and pressing his forehead against Darius’ shoulder.

----

Cameron had spent the last several hours wandering through the different shops in the Court, finding… something. He would know when he found it, Cameron had thought. He ended up in a jewelry shop eyeing the watches and bracelets. The branding tattoo on his wrist almost felt like it was on fire, but he wasn’t here for him.

Cameron finally settled in front of a display of slender black and silver watches. He was aware that neither color matched Darius’ rooms, but perhaps Darius would appreciate the sentiment nonetheless.

The jeweler came over and eyed Cameron over the counter. “How can I help you?”

“How much for this one?” he asked.

He looked at Cameron for far longer than Cameron cared for before looking down at the watch. “This is not for sale.”

Cameron heard the ‘not for your kind’ loud as day. Cameron narrowed his eyes. “How much would you want for it? I have the money.”

“Tainted money,” the demon said.

“Oh don’t worry,” Cameron said, “I washed the coins after I was done spreading my legs.” Cameron gave a sharp smile at the faint look of disgust on his face. “If you’d like, I can clean it again. Though, I do not think where you get money is that important. Profit is profit.”

“I don’t sell to whores,” the demon said, flatly. “Bad for business.”

“Would you if I was on my knees?”

The demon’s mouth opened but promptly closed when a voice mildly said, “Perhaps you would sell it to me, then.” Destris came up beside him and snaked an arm around Cameron’s neck, giving the jeweler a lazy smile. “Surely Asmadai’s heir is someone you’ll sell to. Now denying me would be bad for both your business and your life.”

“Of course, of course,” the demon rushed out. “Special price, just for you, prince.”

Cameron bit back his scoff. Destris was about as close to a prince as he was. Just because his mother was in charge of the hellbeasts of the Obsidian Court did not make her a queen. But he wisely said nothing and kept his face smoothed out while Destris bought the watch for him.

Outside the shop, Destris put the bag in Cameron’s arms. “I didn’t take you one for jewelry, Cam.”

Cameron chose his words carefully. “I thought it wise to own a timepiece. Never know when I’ll be able to need the time. All these clients; need to make sure to be punctual.”

Destris’ long, considering look had Cameron’s bones freezing in place. “Well,” he said, “I’m sure now you’ll be on time for our appointments, then.”

Cameron dipped his head. “Of course.”

---

Darius had barely had an hour to himself before he was finally able to retreat back to his rooms. The doors were shut when he started peeling out of his clothes on the way to the washroom, where Cameron was already waiting. Darius blinked. “Are you joining me?”

Cameron’s slightly raised brow only had Darius more confused. That didn’t stop him from finishing undressing, and that certainly didn’t stop Cameron from coming over behind him and unpinning Darius’ hair, letting it fall back down around his shoulders. “No,” he finally said, “however I thought I would offer my services in getting you clean.”

“Hmm.” Darius couldn’t stop the small smile. “Okay. But,” he said, “I want to wash you, too. And your wings. Please?”

Cameron gave him a long, long considering, almost bewildering look. “I- my wings?”

“If that’s alright?”

If Darius didn’t know any better, he’d say that Cameron almost looked flustered, but Cameron just began unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging it off his pale shoulders. Darius felt the breath leave his body when Cameron unfurled his wings. Black and leathery with the faintest purples and silvers. Cameron gave him an odd look. “What? They’re just wings.”

“But they’re your wings,” Darius said.

Cameron gave him an unimpressed look, but he didn’t miss the way Cameron’s mouth tilted upwards. “I suppose anything on me would be exceptional,” he said as he finished shedding his clothes.

Darius hummed to himself and watched Cameron run the water for the large tub and expertly choose fragrances to put in the water. The room filled with the faintest scent of citrus and cinnamon while Cameron went for soft towels and rags. Darius went to slide into the tub, watching Cameron’s back move against his wings. He could count only once or twice in the last several months he even saw a glimpse of them.

By the time Cameron came back, Darius had already submerged part of his hair under the water and had moved back so Cameron could get in with him. Cameron eyed him the way a painter would a blank canvas before finally saying, “Turn around.”

Darius did as instructed and listened as Cameron wetted a rag and began washing across his shoulders and down his back. Cameron so carefully parted Darius’ hair so he could get to his neck and Darius could not stop the small purr at the feeling.

Cameron only stilled for a split second before continuing once again. Not even a moment after Cameron put Darius’ hair back did Darius feel Cameron move to tilt his head back so he could pour water over his hair.

He did his best to not melt into Cameron when Cameron started lathering shampoo in his hair. Cameron’s long, nimble fingers were skilled. Though Darius already knew that from the amount of time he had watched Cameron play piano. While he managed to keep himself from melting, he was not able to stop his purr from getting louder, but Cameron seemed to not mind and kept washing Darius’ hair.

Cameron’s voice startled Darius into opening his eyes. “Turn around.”

Once again Darius did as instructed and turned back to face Cameron. The steam of the tub had Cameron’s hair dripping in his slightly flushed face. Without thinking, Darius reached over to tug the white strands out of his eyes. “There,” he said, softly.

Cameron’s flickering gaze had Darius leaning forward and pressing a light kiss to Cameron’s jaw before letting him get back to work. His eyes wandered back to Cameron’s wings, to the sharp talons, while Cameron continued running the soft rag down Darius’ arms.

“Could I convince you to show your wings in the room more?” Darius asked, curiously.

Cameron’s face turned thoughtful, considering the question while he continued his work. “Oh, I’m sure you could think of something,” he finally said. “You do have a way with words.”

Darius couldn’t help the smile blooming on his face. “I think that was a compliment.”

“Do you?” Cameron asked, eyes flicking to his for a split second. “I’m sure you would.”

“Mm. I’m right.”

“If you say so,” Cameron said, mildly, pouring fresh water over Darius’ freshly cleaned skin.

“I’d offer to make you food, but I think you’d rather I didn’t.”

“Mmm. No,” Cameron said, rolling his shoulders. “Food poisoning is not high on my priority list.”

“Tea?”

Cameron thought on it, pale blue eyes fixed on him steadily. “What else you got?”

Darius thought on it. He didn’t think he’d genuinely get this far. But he was going to run with it if it meant he could see more of Cameron’s wings. “You can have more room for your books,” he said. “Even if they are so dull.”

Cameron’s mouth twitched. “I do not think you are good at maintaining your position, Darius.”

Darius couldn’t help how he bit his lip. “Well what would you like, then.”

Cameron’s smile widened a bit more. “I do not know,” he said. “Why don’t you keep offering me things and I’ll see how far I can get.”

Darius whined softly. “Cameronn.”

“Dariuss.”

Darius frowned. “You’re mocking me now.”

Cameron lifted a single, perfect brow. “Is that what I’m doing?”

“Yes it is,” Darius mumbled under his breath, but he went for the rag and began to wash Cameron’s silky skin. Cameron’s amused look had Darius wrinkling his nose. “I will give you whatever you’d like, within reason, of course.”

“Mmm. Dangerous offer, Darius.”

Darius held Cameron’s gaze steadily. “I trust you.”

Cameron didn’t blink at Darius’ quiet truth. “I think all I want is a ‘please’.”

“A- what?”

Cameron smiled at him. “That’s all I want.”

“Please?”

“Please what?” Cameron asked, leaning forward to let Darius at his neck to wash.

Darius ran the rag over his skin, inhaling Cameron’s faint citrusy scent. “Please let me see your wings in our room. They’re too beautiful to be kept hidden away.”

“One would say every part of me is too beautiful,” Cameron said, mildly.

“Well, yes,” Darius said, “But your wings are exceptionally beautiful. And I so rarely get to see more than a glimpse of them.”

Cameron took Darius’ chin into his fingers and considered him for what felt like eons. He could feel something tighten and solidify in his core when Cameron leaned over and gave him a chaste kiss. “Very well,” he said. “Since you said ‘please’.”

Darius smiled at that look, and motioned for Cameron to let Darius at his hair. He ran water through the silky strands and washed delicately. He took care and treated them as if they were made of eggshells. He washed out the shampoo, conditioner and moved to his long, pale limbs and washed them just as delicately. Even if Cameron’s skin was flawless, Darius knew just what kind of damage the alpha could do at a mere seventeen years old.

More than anything, Darius wished he could protect him from his fate, but he knew Cameron would not appreciate the sentiment, so he kept doing what he was and washed the invisible marks from Cameron’s body and motioned for him to turn around.

Darius sucked in a breath when he took a long look at Cameron’s wings. “Can… May I touch?”

Cameron inclined his head, wings spreading slightly. “Yes. Just. Be careful.”

Darius hummed and lightly ran the rag over the long, thin bones, eyes trailing over the light silver veins tracing through the black and purple leathery skin. Cameron went almost… limp at the feeling of his wings being washed. He knew what level of trust Cameron was putting in him, and he had no intention of breaking it.

-----

A few hours later and Cameron was watching Darius read one of his useless books. He had been debating how to do this the last several hours and decided to just do it now before he lost any nerve he had. Owing Destris for this would be for nothing if he didn’t give the watch to Darius.

“Darius.”

“Mm?” he said, not looking up from his book.

Cameron went over and replaced the cup of tea in Darius’ hand with the small box. “Open.”

Darius looked down at the small box before looking up at him. He looked almost bewildered, but looked back down at the box and slowly began to open it. The watch was shining in the silver wrapping paper. “Oh,” he said, softly. “I- thank you, Cameron. It’s lovely.”

Cameron wasn’t sure how to answer that, so he just opted for a terse nod. “I saw it in the window and thought you’d have use for it.”

Darius gave him a far too knowing look, but just smiled. “I love it nonetheless,” he said, solemnly. “Help me put it on?”

Cameron moved down to his knees and took the box from him. “I know it’s not your typical aesthetic, but I figured you’d appreciate it anyway.”

“I do,” Darius said, extending an elegant hand.

Cameron carefully removed the watch from the box and clasped it, carefully covering up the branding on Darius’ wrist. “You probably couldn’t… wear it outside of the room often,” Cameron said, looking up at him. “But...”

Darius seemed to hesitate only slightly before leaning over and pressing a light kiss to Cameron’s forehead. Cameron did his best to not screw up his face at the sentiment and allowed it briefly before pulling back. The way Darius’ eyes shone was enough to endure the payment that he was sure Destris would take out of him for it. “I’m glad you like it,” he said, getting to his feet.

“I love it.”

----

Cameron spent that night with Destris, and then he spent the next several days between Destris and other clients. He barely saw Darius the whole time and the only time he did was when he came back to sleep. He barely ate unless Darius bullied him into it, and even then it took much persuasion on Darius’ part to get him to eat.

Cameron finally came back to the rooms after seeing a copy of himself leaving the room. But those same pale blue eyes shifted to the hauntingly familiar hazel green and it had Cameron stopping in his tracks, schooling his face into neutrality. “Have I forgotten an appointment?”

“No,” Destris said, sliding his hands into his pockets. “But I must say, I did not think the watch I paid for would be given to a common whore. Though, he did pay well for it as well. So I think I can let it slide. This time.”

Cameron blinked, and he opened his mouth before promptly closing it. He didn’t know what to say, and the ice slicing through his veins made him very aware he needed to say absolutely nothing. “Thank you,” he finally said, voice carefully neutral.

Destris gave him a spidery smile before walking around Cameron, his form shifting back to his own slowly. Cameron closed his eyes, sighing softly and bracing himself before going into the bedroom. Darius was sleeping on the bed, clearly naked beneath the throw blanket covering his lower half. Cameron’s throat closed when Darius awoke to look at him, confused. “You’re back already?”

“Yes,” Cameron said, numbly. “I decided to just come to bed, instead.”

Darius gave him a small, pleased smile and laid back down in the bed. Cameron changed into his pajamas, not feeling himself do it before climbing in the bed next to him. The smell of sex clung to Darius, and even if that was his job, this didn’t- this wasn’t the same. And Cameron couldn’t voice this, especially when Darius moved over to curl into Cameron’s side, falling back asleep almost instantly.

--------

Tuathal had never liked the Obsidian Court. It stunk of power and desperation to keep it, and it made his skin crawl with memories he didn’t want to touch. But Asmadai had asked for a meeting, and for now he needed to keep the peace.

Just in case, though, he’d brought his brother along. Cináed made a wonderful distraction, especially when he couldn’t be bothered to put on a shirt. He looked the part of a halfbreed, radiating his own power, and not power he had to steal. In comparison, Tu with his neatly pulled back hair and calm demeanor seemed the civilized brother.

While Tuathal sat, listening to Asmadai try to sell him on lending her his support. Not that he had any intention of giving her what she wanted, but it was good to seem like he was considering it. He knew damn well his magic was a coveted asset, but his plans revolved around ending this war, not prolonging it with more infighting.

Behind her, her son lurked, pale as snow, and an obvious attempt to be an enticing addition to the offer. Asmadai had no way of knowing Tuathal could never be swayed by a pretty face; he’d never been interested in sex, and that was not going to change for this young demon. Besides, he looked barely in his twenties, if that. Tuathal had centuries on him.

While Tu listened to Asmodai, nodding along as he braced his chin on his fingers, Cin wandered the room, poking his nose where it didn’t belong, passing close enough to the demon and her son that he could sniff at the both. They seemed unimpressed by the way Cin bared his fangs in a grin at them.

“Cináed,” Tuathal warned mildly. “No nibbling.”

Behind Asmadai, her son lifted his brow ever so slightly, the faintest of amusement showing up in his face, even as Cin growled at Tu.

“Cin,” Tu said, voice soft, and laced with a threat of his own.

This time Cin settled with a grumble, returning to Tu’s side as Tuathal stood.

After tugging on one of Cin’s golden curls, Tuathal fixed Asmadai with a level look. “I’ll have to think about your offer,” he said smoothly. It wasn’t a lie. There was plenty to be gained from picking apart just why and how she thought to go through with her plans. “I’ll let you know if I’m interested.” He wasn’t, but she didn’t need to know that until he had his brother safely away from her claws. Demons had done enough to Tuathal; they didn’t need the opportunity to do the same to Cináed.

Asmadai reached up to drag her fingers down her son’s jaw, not taking her eyes off of Tuathal. “I’ll be waiting for your answer.”

Tu didn’t even give her the respect of a bow. He turned away, knowing Cin was following on his heels. They didn’t say a word until they were free of the Obsidian Court. As soon as they were, Cin’s teeth found Tu’s shoulder, the pressure questioning.

“What did you think?” Cin asked, some of the playfulness fading from his sharp golden eyes.

“I think she’s a bitch, and can go fuck herself,” Tu replied, pulling his hair down with a frown. He ran his fingers through it once or twice to loosen it up, and then added, “Though she seems a bitch who might rise high. I’ll keep an eye out for her in the futures.”

“Probably a wise decision,” Asmadai’s son said from behind. It took a few moments for Tu to place a name; he hadn’t bothered to care in the room with her, but it seemed rude to not know now.

Cin shifted subtly in front of Tu, eyeing Cameron with the same feral look to him that Cin always wore in front of others. Cameron was unphased, but Tu already expected that. “Can I help you?” Tu asked instead of responding to Cameron’s comment.

“I’m here to offer myself to both of you,” was all Cameron said.

Tu bit back a snort. “Your services aren’t needed,” he replied. This was not a demon who had harmed him. He had no reason to be cruel. “You can let your mother know I’m not interested.”

Cameron’s icy gaze shifted to Cin. “And you?”

Cin met his stare, washed out gold clashing with pale blue. “I prefer my partners willing. I don’t pay to sleep with anyone.”

“I don’t intend to take your money.”

“And I don’t take bribes,” Cin replied dismissively. He headbutted Tu’s shoulder. “I want to go home.”

Tu stared at Cameron for a long time, chasing down flickers of the future. He knew Cameron’s answer before he opened his mouth. “I could buy you from her,” he offered quietly. “I don’t lack the funds.”

He could see the gears turning in the young demon’s head, and despite so many futures telling him Cameron would say no, he had to hope he might say yes. But when Cameron answered, all he said was, “You couldn’t afford me.” Here the demon hesitated. “But there’s another whore you could afford. He goes by the name Darius.”

This time Tu closed his eyes. Second ticked by, and then he opened them again. “I could afford it, yes,” he finally said. “But I don’t think there I have the... the time for a different man. This offer would only work for you.” Unease coiled through him. He rarely offered advice based on what he saw when he looked forward. “Don’t hesitate. It’s better that way. Merciful.”

Cin flicked him a look, a frown pulling at his lips. Tu shook his head once, unable to speak around the sour taste in his mouth. The blank look on Cameron’s face only made it all the worse. The young demon just inclined his head slightly. “Noted.”

Before he could get far, Tuathal called him back, on impulse. “Life has a strange way of bringing you things you thought lost,” he said. “This is not your only path, and not your only life. Your future forks more than you’re willing to believe, and you will be surprised by the outcome.”

Cameron paused long enough to give him a small, sharp smile, disbelief clear in the expression. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, and then he kept walking.

“You tried to tell him,” Cin offered, bumping shoulders with Tu.

“I feel like those cryptic old prophets,” Tu complained, turning towards home. “I hate those prophets. They’re all dicks.”

“Well. You are a dick, so.” Cin ducked away from the swat Tu aimed at him, laughing.

---

Cameron found two men to service that held similar enough scents to the two halfbreeds before heading back to the mansion. He was ordered to sleep with them, and he could not show back up without the scent of sex on his skin, unless he wanted to answer questions that would get him in hot water.

Cameron went to kneel in front of his mother. His brother was leaned against the throne next to her, that lazy, spidery smile curling his face as he rested his eyes on Cameron. The same smile was mirrored on Asmadai’s face and Cameron trained his eyes to the marble white floor. “The halfbreed wishes you to know he is not interested.”

His mother hummed, but it was Destris who said, “And did you serve them?”

“I did,” Cameron lied, smoothly.

“Clearly you didn’t do it well,” Destris replied. “Not enough training, I suppose. Even with your own personal whore. Here I thought Darius was useful.”

Cameron’s blood was somehow ice cold and burning at the same time. He allowed himself to feel neither and said, “I apologize. I’ll accept whatever punishment you deem necessary, Lady.”

His mother’s clicking nails was the only sound in the room, and Cameron could feel his heart pound in rhythm to them. “Bedding the half breeds was punishment enough, I think. You probably wish to wash their reek off your skin.”

“I would appreciate it, Lady,” Cameron said, still looking down at the floor.

“You’re quite welcome,” she said. “You may take your leave, Cameron.”

“Thank you,” he said, rising to his feet smoothly, eyes down as he walked out of the room. Cameron carefully eyed the hallways he took back to the rooms and he wasn’t sure if he were relieved or not when Darius was not in the rooms. He had no choice but to sit there and wait with the blade in his hand.

He had it resting on his lap by the time Darius came back, smelling of sex and perfumes. Darius looked from Cameron’s wings, to his eyes to the knife back up to his eyes. “So, I suppose the knife is going in my back?” he asked.

Or throat, Cameron thought, numbly.

“Yes,” was all he had to say, while standing.

Darius seemed to think about that, gold eyes never wavering as he held Cameron’s gaze. He tried for a half smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I wouldn't by chance be able to convince you to not?”

“No,” was all Cameron said.

Darius nodded, more in acceptance than anything else. Cameron watched Darius carefully unclasp the watch from his slender wrist and hold it out. “Wear it for me? I’m sure you’ll have more use for it than I.”

Cameron unwillingly looked down at the black and silver watch in Darius’ fingers and found himself reaching out for it. The metal was warm from Darius’ touch. Cameron forced it onto his own wrist and lifted to curl his fingers around the back of Darius’ neck. The black strands brushing his fingers sent goosebumps up his arm and down his spine. Darius had to lift Cameron’s chin to make him look him in the eyes. “It’s okay,” he said. “I knew what I was getting into by getting involved with you. I know this isn’t what you want. I just hope you can eventually get what you need.”

“I’m sorry,” Cameron’s voice cracked.

Cameron didn’t give himself a second before he expertly plunged the blade into the back of Darius’ neck. He twisted sharply, feeling the nerves sever and the life leave Darius’ body without so much as a whisper. Cameron wasn’t sure if the feeling in his chest completely severing as well was imagined or not.

Blood seeped down his fingers, drenching Darius’ hair as Cameron gently brought the warm, limp body to the floor. Cameron’s eyes were bleary, tears streaking down his face and he couldn’t breathe. He had no right to feel this; he had no right to tears or pain of any kind. But that didn’t stop Cameron from dropping his forehead against Darius’ blood splattered one.

Closing Darius’ eyes, Cameron felt a sob tear through his chest. It felt like he was dying, like this was what death was. He supposed, in a way, it was. He never planned on living that long, anyway. He was going to end up dead one way or another, either at his mother’s hand or his brother’s.

A walking corpse.

----

Five hundred years later and Cameron was still serving in his mother’s court. He had carefully crafted an image for himself, making people want him; making people fear him. Of course, that did not include Destris in the mix, but he had his roles to play and he played them well.

Cameron, however, had not been expecting a half beaten angel to drop at his mother’s feet. The golden brown, tattooed skin was covered in bruises and blood, dark brown eyes somehow daring even with one of them bloodshot.

It was interesting enough to get Cameron’s attention, seeing as how his mother didn’t kill him right away. Angels were a thorn in his side, but this one- he was also an omega and that also piqued Cameron’s interest. An angelic omega in his court, still alive and daring to grin at his mother like this.

“Well,” the angel rasped. “This is surely one way to gain an audience.”

Cameron wasn’t sure how he had gotten from his mother’s side to his back oozing blood, and half dead in angelic territory in a matter of weeks. He had used the last of his strength to make sure he ended up on the right doorstep, hand slamming hard against the heavy oak door before completely crumbling.

Black edged at his vision, and all he could taste was the mingling metallics of blood and venom. He heard, more than saw the door open, black biker boots appearing in front of his eyes. “What the hell? Cameron?”

The next thing Cameron saw was the inside of what appeared to be a large bedroom. He could hear Nik and someone arguing. Pain laced through his body as he looked over to see the idiot angel and a taller, red haired angel bickering about him. He felt the eyes of the ginger turn towards him, bright green and disgusted and hateful. “Oh, you’re awake,” he deadpanned. “I guess you did survive.”

“Ash,” Nik hissed. “Don’t be a prick. I know it’s hard, but I think you could manage for a split second.”

Cameron closed his eyes for a heartbeat, and tried sitting up. Pain laced down his back, his arms threatening to buckle. He would have landed back on his face anyways had Nik not moved to put him back on his stomach. “You stupid bastard,” he breathed. “You just had your wings chopped off. Don’t move.”

“Let him,” Ash said. “If he’s stupid enough to move after a hack amputation like that, so be it.”

If Cameron had the energy he might have rolled his eyes. “I need to go,” he rasped. “I can’t be here.”

“Well, too bad,” Nik said.

“Angels,” he mumbled, forehead against the bedding.

“Yeah? And?” Ash asked. “If I haven’t killed you, I doubt anyone else is going to. Not when Nik would probably throw a damned fit first. Plus Az’ril isn’t here, so you don’t need to worry about him.”

He could hear how Nik’s breath hitched just a bit before, “Well lucky us. It’ll be fine. I’ll deal with Papi when the time comes. Blood debts and all that.”

Cameron had spared Nik and for his troubles he had gotten his wings carved off. Cameron sighed into the bedding and tried getting up again. The temperature in the room spiked enough Cameron knew Ash’s power and filed that information away for later. “Ah. So this is why Nik likes you. You are as stupid as he is.”

“Shut the fuck up, Ashwyn.”

Ash muttered under his breath but came over and had Cameron jolting when Ash touched his back. Cameron reached out and grabbed Ash’s arm in a vice grip and turned to glare up at him. “Don’t. Touch. Me.”

Ash rose a brow. “I see, too good for angelic healing?”

Cameron removed his hand and put his face back in the blanket. “Something like that.”

Ash scoffed, but Cameron could almost feel Nik inching towards them. He could feel the calloused fingers hesitantly touching his hair; knew Nik was stupid enough to touch him like this, in front of another angel. “Ash, get out.”

“You made me come over here and save your stupid demon,” Ash snapped. “And now you want me to leave you alone with him?”

“Do you really think he is in any position to hurt me,” Nik said, sharply. “He already spared me once, I doubt he’d try to kill me now.”

He could feel the heat of the glare Ash sent both their ways. It was hot enough Cameron could feel his hair sticking to his forehead. “Fine,” he finally said. “Your funeral.”

“Aw thanks,” Nik said. “Now get out.”

----

“Sir?”

Cameron looked up from his paperwork, annoyed to see one of his bouncers at his door. “Can’t knock?” he asked, coolly.

“I- There’s another angel here. Besides the mutt and... Nik.”

Cameron lifted a brow and leaned back. He thought on it; there weren't many angels that bothered showing in his club, unless it was Nik or Amara. But they both were gluttons for punishment and both got sex out of it. And unfortunately he could never really get rid of Nik anyways.

“Noted,” he said. “Now get out and go do your job.”

When the bouncer bowed out, Cameron rose from his desk and went to the tinted glass windows that overlooked his club. The club was packed, and Cameron kept looking to see where this angel was. He had no patience tonight to deal with angels trying to dismantle his establishment. But his attention was caught when sudden shadows appeared, wrapping around one of the patrons.

“Mmm.” Cameron said, leaning closer, to get a better look. He might have walked away when a demon started talking to the angel had the angel not tried flinching back. He cocked his head, watching more when Nik appeared in that awful body glitter and slung his arm around the angel’s neck.

Cameron watched enough for Nik to drag the angel to the bar where he knew Amara would be, drinking all his booze like usual. As annoying as she was, at least she provided steady profit for his club.

Cameron came down to the bar, more out of vague curiosity and suspicion than anything else. He made his way through the noisy club, training his hearing on Nik, the angel (apparently named Levant) and Amara. By the time he reached them Levant had a glass of water in his hand and was following Nik’s line of vision. The dark haired angel nearly dropped his glass.

Cameron nearly stopped in place when the wide gold eyes turned to his, but the arm slipping around his waist had him loosening once more, pulling him into focus. He let Nik at his throat, to scent him, but he still forced himself to offhandedly say, “Don’t get glitter on me.” He ignored Nik’s happy hum and kept his eyes on Lev. “Who are you?”

Lev was gaping like a fish out of water when Nik grinned. “This is Lev. Mar is trying to get us in his pants.”

Hmm. Cameron forced himself to turn his attention to Amara. “I’m not giving you free booze.”

The long drink and loud sigh didn’t impress him. “Why does everyone insinuate that I want free booze? I'm just trying to get my darling cousin loosened up a little. Maybe by a cock or two, you know?”

Cameron could have told her it was because he knew very well that she pick pocketed his patrons and used their money for her alcohol. So she was, in fact, not paying for her own alcohol. However, he was still making profit, so he did not care.

Lev’s mortified squeak had Cameron looking back at Lev and gripping his chin. He looked him over indolently. “And does he want to be loosened up by a cock or two?” he asked, lips brushing against Lev’s ear.

The sharp spike in Lev’s scent- in the cinnamon and vanilla scent- nearly had Cameron freezing himself.

“Oh, don’t break him yet, Cam. The poor angel’s going to be too much of a mess to be fun to either of us.” Cameron could smell Lev’s very clear, very obvious interest in Cameron. “Though, something does tell me he enjoys being a mess.”

Cameron couldn’t stop himself from brushing his nose along Lev’s neck, getting more of his scent into his lungs. Nik had grabbed the glass from Lev’s hands and Cameron used that moment to grab Lev by the hoodie and press him back against the bar, still scenting him.

“I’m going to take that as a yes?” Amara was saying.

Cameron eventually pulled back, his eyes trained on Lev. Cameron lifted his gaze from those bright gold eyes to the black wavy hair. Despite this skin being paler, despite the moles dotting that pale skin, and despite this angel being so thin-

It was like looking at a ghost.

Tagging:  @idreamonpaper @incandescent-creativity @solangelo3088 @halstudies @alittleyellowdinosaur @mis-lil-red

[m00nslippers]

I feel like I need to justify why I haven’t posted any writing at all in like a month or two, so here’s the first part of a WIP.

No Title yet. I’m shit at titles.

Fandom: Batman, Red Hood And The Outlaws, Red Hood/Arsenal, Grayson, Nightwing Relationships: Jason Todd/Dick Grayson, Jason Todd & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Damian Wayne Characters: Jason Todd, Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson, Timothy Drake, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Talia Al'Ghul, Roy Harper, Helena Bertinelli, Tiger | Agent 1 Tags: No Capes AU, Jason was never adopted by Bruce, Spyral Agent Dick, Bodyguard/Mercenary Jason, Child Soldiers, PTSD, Survivor’s Guilt, Talia is a good-ish mom, Tiger is so done with Dick, Brief elements of Racism and American Imperialism in the Middle East.

Summery: When Spyral Agent Dick Grayson accompanies his brother Tim to his school science fair, he meets his brother's stuffy arch-rival Damian and realizes he's the son of Talia Al Ghul, heir to the Al Ghul international criminal empire that has its tentacles in everything from high-profile political assassinations to weapons trafficking. Concerned about the danger the association poses to his younger brother, Dick decides to find out more...and comes up against Damian's dangerously attractive bodyguard, Jason Todd.

- - -

Timothy was sighing as he lead Dick to his school auditorium. “I'm telling you Dick, it's fine.”

But Dick was not having it. He frowned and pulled his suit blazer a little closer around him in the chilly night air as they crossed the parking lot, approaching the lights and bustle of the school building.

“How is it fine?” he asked Tim. “You're getting a first place prize for your science fair project and Bruce doesn't even have the decency to come!”

He wasn't mad about this a few minutes ago, but seeing all the families spilling out of the building, children hugging parents and vice versa for a job well done or consolation at having underperformed, made Dick feel like a half-assed chaperone. Bruce should have been here with them, and Alfred, and Steph and Conner and all Tim's other friends, but instead it's just him and he didn't feel like he was doing a great job of being support, even if it was just for a high school science fair.

Tim rolled his eyes. “This is my fourth one, Dick. And he had an important business meeting, I already told him it was okay that he couldn't make it. I meant that. It's just the district-wide competition. Now if I get one from the state, then his ass better show up.”

Dick didn't think a business meeting was a great excuse—he'd been privy to it enough in his own youth to find it played out—but Tim seemed sincere so maybe it really was important. “Well, you could have had Alfred come at least. He wanted to, even.”

“He's still pretending he doesn't have a cold. I'd rather he just rest,” Tim argued, and okay, Dick could see that. Neither of them wanted Alfred to exert himself when he wasn't feeling well and the night air could be hard on an old man.

“Besides, having a brothers' night out isn't so bad,” Tim added with a shrug. “We don't get to hang out much, especially just us.”

Dick beamed and Tim smiled back. Technically speaking, Dick should have more time with family since he'd quit the Blüdhaven police force (more like he was drummed out for being against the corruption and refusing to fall in line) and moved back to Gotham to work for Spyral, but in practice he'd been out of town for months at a time on field work until just recently. So maybe this was fine. Just him and Tim, brotherly bonding. It wasn't half-assed, it was exclusive. Okay.

Suddenly Tim's smile fell, avoiding looking at someone in the crowd as he half hid behind his older, taller brother. “Actually, let's just skip the awards ceremony and go straight to sushi,” Tim suggested with a suspiciously too-pleasant voice. “I mean, one big fancy ribbon is just like another, right? And who needs jealous, begrudging applause from the Gotham Academy Science Club Captain? I'm so over the rush of smug superiority it gives me.”

Dick narrowed his eyes. “Okay, the Timothy Drake-Wayne I know would never say that. What's going on?”

Tim tried to manhandle Dick into turning around, but Dick was curious enough at his adoptive brother's behavior to stand his ground.

“Damn it, too late.” Tim winced and stepped back out from behind Dick to paste a tight smile on his face.

A dark young boy with flashing jade eyes strode up to Tim and somehow looked down his nose at the taller boy from a few inches under five feet tall. He was clearly younger than Tim, but he held himself as if the whole world was his to command and his shoulders were as straight as any boardroom executive. Despite being fairly sure he'd never seen the kid before, Dick found him uncannily familiar, though he couldn't say why. Then Dick had an odd flash of Bruce icing out an idiot at a Wayne Gala, and comparing Bruce's general demeanor to some jumped-up little kid had Dick choking back a laugh. This was probably exactly what he was like as a child, Dick suspected. He'd run into Bruce's tiny doppelganger.

As the child stopped in front of Tim, Dick realized he had a shadow. Behind the boy stalked a man who made Dick feel small and somehow still managed to slink smoothly at the boy's heels like a massive guard dog with movements that spoke of training and deadly skill that put him on high alert. Dick found himself frowning as his muscles tensed, his brain leaping automatically into Agent Thirty-Seven mode as he assessed the man's threat potential and realized it was way too high for their venue. This wasn't the kind of person he expected to run into at a school function. This was more like the kind of people Dick dealt with in his day job.

“Drake, I see you've made an appearance at this shabby competition,” the boy spoke in an imperious tone, his accent something like Britain colored by the Middle East. “First place in the High School division was it? The standards for schooling in this country must be even lower than I'd been lead to believe for someone of your caliber to rise to the top.”

“Damian, so you're here,” Tim droned. “And you've pinned your first place ribbon in the Junior High division to your blazer like a prize pig at a state fair. You look pretty proud of yourself, despite those so-called low standards you're delusional about.” Tim's eyelids had lowered at the boy, Damian, in an annoyed, dismissive way that surprised Dick. Tim was generally a friendly, understanding person, even the loathed Franklin Debauer the Third, the Science Club Captain, didn't get this level of hostility.

Damian clicked his tongue and gave a haughty scoff. “Please, Drake. It's clear to me that you're basal intellect couldn't stand up to real competition. I'm only disappointed that our age difference is such that you'll be ineligible to participate in the judging when I've graduated to the high school division.”

Timothy sneered. “Yes, I'm sure it's such a relief for you to know I'll be above such petty concerns as a high school science fair competition with children when I'm in college and can't utterly crush you and your cute little excuse of an experiment. Being surrounded by small fish is where you excel, isn't it?”

Dick's eyes widened. Wow. What the hell was going on? Dick had never seen Tim engage in this kind of sharp repartee and as entertaining as it was, Dick wasn't sure he liked seeing Tim this way. “Tim,” he hastily interrupted, “why don't you introduce me to your friends.”

Tim sighed and gestured vaguely at Damian, who was now looking Dick up and down, measuring him against some invisible standard and finding him wanting. “Dick, this is Damian. Just a kid at my school. He recently moved to Gotham from outside the country. And that's...Mr. Todd? He's Damian's bodyguard, or his babysitter. One of the two.”

Dick's attention snapped back to the man standing behind Damian with an easy stance that to his trained eye concealed coiled violence. Bodyguard, huh? Dick chewed on the idea for a moment before he decided it was a reasonable explanation for the man's presence. Gotham Academy was a rich school, plenty of paranoid billionaires here employed some kind of personal security. They just weren't usually at this level of ability. Mr. Todd was the real deal, he could tell that much by the way his eyes swept over the parking lot and calculated the vectors of people passing by.

Dick decided to work under the assumption that Mr. Todd was who he said he was—for now.

He reached out to shake hands with Mr. Todd and found himself examining the man's large, rough hands with too many scars, filing every detail away in the back of his mind. His gaze followed those hands to the man's muscular arms and broad shoulders filling out a brown leather jacket like a dream. Mr. Todd's face was no less distracting to Dick. He was much younger than Dick would have expected, with a wide mouth, a thin nose that showed signs of having been broken, and dark, hooded brows cut by a scar, shadowing eyes the color of sea glass.

Dick found himself drawn in by those eyes that seemed to gaze deep into him, down to his bones. For a few seconds he forgot that he'd just labeled this man a 'dangerous individual to be watched closely' and indulged himself in the attraction.

But then Mr. Todd pulled back his hand and Dick saw the subtle cling of his jacket over those shoulders and he realized the man was carrying a gun.

Dick scowled.

“He is not my babysitter!” Damian objected with a pout.

Mr. Todd's laugh was gravelly and deep, sending shivers up Dick's spine. “Naw, I'd say that's accurate. But don't ever call me Mr. Todd. Jason or Jay is fine,” the man said in a thick Gotham accent, wearing a smirk that would have had Dick's stomach doing flip-flops if he wasn't trying to subtly undress the man in a way that was much less fun than Dick wanted it to be—instead of imagining the man's assets, Dick was looking for more concealed weapons. Now that he knew to look, he suspected there would be a few.

Anger boiled within him and Dick glared up at the man who had the nerve to bring a gun into a school. “Okay, but do you have a permit for those firearms, 'Jay'?”

Mr. Todd—Jason—frowned and all the charm drained from his expression. From the subtle changes in his stance, the set of his shoulders and the way his eyes went dark and hollow, Dick could confirm he was dealing with a very dangerous man. He had met dictators, mercenaries, psychopaths and assassins that didn't have a fraction of the menace as this Mr. Todd was aiming his way. It would have been impressive if it wasn't so unnerving.

“You a cop, or something?” Jason said, now looking over Dick in the same minutely analytical way as he had moments before, though Jason wouldn't find any weapons on Dick, outside of a pocket-perfume sprayer filled with the most potent mace Spyral's R&D could concoct. He didn't carry a gun outside of the field. He wouldn't carry a gun at all if he could manage it.

“Or something,” Dick acknowledged, but by the highly competent way Jason had taken in his shoes, clothing, haircut, lack of weapons and general demeanor, Dick figured he'd already come to a conclusion that couldn't be far off the mark.

“Dick...” Tim warned him through hissed teeth.

Jason clenched his jaw and gave Dick a glare that he fully believed could stop men's hearts in more ways than one.

“Yeah, I've got your permit right here,” he growled. And while Dick held himself back from attempting a disarm, Todd reached one hand into an inner pocket in his jacket to pull out what Dick recognized as a diplomatic visa from Qurac that might as well have been a get-out-of-jail-free card.

With his other hand, he firmly flipped Dick a middle finger.

Dick raised a brow. “That's not a permit, that's a visa. But it's a good head start on some of the other documents I want to see from you now.”

Jason released a put-upon sigh and flashed Dick a smile with too many teeth. He stepped right into Dick's space and nearly backed him up into Tim, trying to intimidate Dick with his threatening bulk and delicious looking mouth—wait, no, not that last one. The intimidation was only sort of working, since Dick fully believed the man was as dangerous as he was portraying himself to be, but Dick had never been properly scared of anything in his life, and he had the skills to back up his bravery.

“So it's going to be like that,” Jason said, low and quiet and far more frightening than shouting could ever be. “Fine. Look, buddy, this is a fucking school. The kid just got his science fair award, he's not a goddamn terrorist, he is a child. You and all of your pals are wasting your time and pissing me off—and I'm sure you've got a whole stack of files that explain exactly what happens when you piss me off. Now you turn yourself around and tell whatever ABC-soup agency you're from to leave Damian the fuck alone, or I'm going to test how far this diplomatic immunity extends. And I don't know what you did to get Timmy in on your cover, but leave him alone too while your at it.” He turned his head and spat directly on Dick's shoes with a curled lip of disgusted and stepped back. “The government using kids in my own damn country. It's sick. It's fucking reprehensible.”

Dick frowned in confusion, feeling as if he was missing a piece of the conversation, and not just because he'd had trouble tearing his eyes and imagination away from Jason's dynamic mouth. “I think we have a misunderstanding here,” he realized.

Jason just snarled, ready to tell Dick off again, but his charge interrupted him. “Drake! Do you always let your bodyguard interrupt your conversations? It's unprofessional.”

Tim's eyes were flicking from Dick to Jason with suspicion, but it seemed he couldn't resist the other boy's taunts as he turned to the kid with a sniff. “Dick isn't my bodyguard, he's my brother. I'm not such an asshole that I have people trying to kill me twenty-four seven, like you.”

Dick's brows snapped together as he warned, “Tim...” It was one thing to exchange clever banter with one's rival, but flinging bald insults was crossing a line.

Damian snorted, oddly unperturbed at being called an asshole, as well as the suggestion of his life being under threat. “Despite your complete lack of class and intellect, you are a Wayne heir, are you not Drake? Clearly your adoptive father isn't particularly interested in your well-being if he sends you around alone. On the contrary, my mother cares for me.”

Tim shook his head, his face flushed with anger. “Yeah no, Damian. You don't get to imply that Bruce doesn't love me because he doesn't make me walk around with an armed thug at my back.” Said armed thug raised a brow, looked vaguely amused at being labeled as such. “He had a really important meeting, but he offered to ditch it just for me, and my brother worked all day but he showed up just to see me get a dinky award I've already won three years in a row. Who came with you? No one. Just your bodyguard, and he's paid to be there. It seems like you're the one no one cares about him, not me. Where's your precious mother? Do you even know who your father is? What are you even doing here, Damian, you ever think of that?”

Dick gasped, “Tim!” at the same moment as Damian rose on his hackles like a pissed off cat and snarled, “You—!”

“Okay,” Jason interrupted, stepping between Tim and Damian before either could make a move as Dick just found himself staring at Tim in shock that he would say something so cruel. Whatever was gong on with his bodyguard, Damian was still just a kid.

Jason cast a displeased stare Tim's way, and Dick realized that Timothy must like or respect Jason somewhat because his brother ducked his head in shame. “This little rivalry thing you kids have got going on here is cute, but that's enough with the trash talk.” Jason bodily turned Damian toward the parking lot and started guiding him away. “You've already got your prize Dee, so let's bounce the fuck out of here. I'll make us a late night snack at the penthouse.”

Damian scowled and shot Tim one last dirty look before he turned to follow Jason, jogging to keep up with his much longer legs as they walked. “Apple crumble and vanilla ice cream?”

“Sure. You got it,” Jason agreed, but his attention was fixed on Dick, shooting him an 'I'll be watching you' stare before turning away.

Damian snorted but said, “Fine, let us depart,” and Tim and Dick watched their interaction with open interest as the boy and his bodyguard walked over to a powerful-looking motorcycle that Dick had admired when they'd walked passed it in the parking lot.

“You want my jacket? It's pretty cold,” Jason asked, but didn't wait for an answer before he took off the garment and dropped it around Damian's shoulders where they nearly drowned the kid in leather, it was so large.

Damian wrinkled his nose. “It smells like cigarettes,” he complained.

Jason's hand moved to take it back. “If you don't want it—”

“Mine.” Damian hugged the jacket around him possessively, with a pout that made him look even younger than he probably was. He burrowed his face into the leather of the collar before making a face. “Ugh. Todd, do you ever wash this thing?”

Jason smiled, rolled his eyes and ruffled Damian's hair while the boy tried to shove his hand away, and Dick felt his knees go weak as he stared very unprofessionally at the man's broad back, covered by a loose red flannel over a gray shirt and snug shoulder holsters built for concealed carry from the way they seemed to disappear into the lines of his body.

“Shut up,” Jason said with amusement in his voice as he put on a shiny red racing helmet and passed Damian a smaller, similar one. “You've never washed a thing in your damn life, Dee, you just have the maids do it. Besides, you don't wash leather, brat. You dry clean it.”

Damian snorted and accepted the helmet, tugging it in place with a practiced motion. “Since I have never once seen you enter a dry-cleaning establishment, then I suppose I know the answer to that question.”

Jason laughed as they both got on the bike, bright and genuine sounding, and he turned the key and revved the engine before roaring away out of sight.

Suddenly Dick was aware that he had pretty much been drooling over himself for the last few minutes, watching an admittedly blisteringly hot, but obviously dangerous and armed man drive away with a minor. Tim and Damian clearly knew the guy, and both seemed comfortable in his presence, but Dick felt he still should have asked for more documentation or something. Or enforced the revelation of the documentation he did ask for.

Well, too late now. And he knew the man's name—or the alias he was using currently at least—that was enough to get him almost any other information he needed, back at Spyral.

Dick turned to Tim, who was suspiciously quiet. He found his brother considering Dick himself, the gears in his genius brain spinning over something he'd witnessed. “So, Tim,” Dick asked, “are you going to tell me what that was about?”

Tim didn't quite manage to be casual as he shrugged. “Nothing to tell. Damian is a hyper-competitive little ass who makes it his hobby to get on my last nerve. Jason is his bodyguard for everything outside of actual school. He's usually pretty nice, even if he's kind of paranoid. You really must have pressed his buttons because I've never seen him act like that before.”

Well, from what Dick had gathered, the man thought Dick was some kind of government agent who'd attached himself to Tim to stalk and harass a junior high schooler, so he figured the hostility from Jason was understandable.

“The kid really looks familiar to me, for some reason,” Dick admitted. “Has he been to one of Bruce's galas or something?”

Tim huffed. “No, thank God. I can't even imagine having to be civil to that brat for a whole night.” And neither could Dick, considering the two had only managed tonight for about five seconds before it all went downhill. “Maybe you've seen him in the news?” Tim suggested. “His family is pretty important in the Middle East, apparently.”

The Middle East, huh? If that was the case then Dick knew exactly who to go to for answers tomorrow. “What's his last name?”

“Al Ghul.” Understanding flooded Dick. He knew that name, it was attached with one of the largest and most successful criminal empires in the world, and Dick had run into them on more than one occasion. It explained a lot, from the boy's familiar appearance to why he had a bodyguard with a Quraqi diplomatic visa.

Tim eyed him knowingly. “So they really are important, then. Political, business or criminal sector?”

“I can't talk about sensitive intelligence, Tim.” It was the answer he had to give, but it wasn't enough to put off Tim, it never was.

“Hm. Criminal, then,” Tim deduced as Dick kept his face carefully blank. His younger brother gave a gallic shrug. “Well, despite how much he talks himself up, he's just a brat, nothing dangerous, and I wouldn't think you can get any information out of him, either. Clearly his mom sent him to the U.S. to keep him out of the business or something. Or people are really after him. Or both.”

“What? Of course not, Tim.” Dick said. “That's not even my department, I'm just...concerned.” As in concerned why a kid was in such danger than he had a guy like Jason Todd following him around.

Tim was unconvinced. “Sure. Now forget work for a moment while I get my award and rub it in 'Franklin Debauer the Third's dumb face.”

[jaehotbuns]

stay

rating: pg - 13

word count: 4,526

characters: you x yuta ft. johnny

genre: slight angst, fluff (?)

preview //  You’d had been trying to build a wall since he stepped in because you knew subconsciously that you would fall for him at one point but when he looked at you like that you couldn’t refuse.

“Please for the love of God let him stay with you,” she begged and pleaded for the sixth time today. “You always let me stay at your place over days on end when I’m in need,” she moaned loudly into the receiver causing you to jerk your ear away from your phone to avoid the screeching, “so why not now?”

You rolled your eyes in annoyance and took a deep breath before replying to your best friend’s unreasonable request. “Look Jess, my home is your home ‘cause you’re like my sister. I refuse to house a stranger.” You heard her inhale to refute that he wasn’t a stranger, that he was her really good childhood friend from years ago but that was of little relevance to you, “I don’t care if you’re close to him, I don’t even know his name.”

She made out an inaudible mixture pleading words and whining sounds before going back to convincing you, “it’s only for until he finds a new place. His landlord mixed up the apartments and now he has nowhere to crash and you’re the only one I know who has an empty place. Please, please, please!”

Although that situation sounded awful and you’d want someone to take you under their wing if it had been you in that exact situation you didn’t know what the person might do and you could barely keep your own apartment from looking like a wreck nevermind adding another individual to mess up the place. Deep in your thoughts, you started to look around your apartment; it was minimalist and had very little furniture to occupy the small yet cozy space and an extra room for storage that you had never gotten around to fill. With this much room and no real reason to say no rather than your own discomfort you had overcome that feeling with guilt and finally complied. “Fine. I’ll do it. But make sure he pretends that I don’t even exist.”

“Are you sure about that?” Jess teased, “he’s quite the looker and I know you haven’t dated in a long time.” You vividly pictured an image of her wiggling her eyebrows at you suggestively by her tone of voice through the phone.

She might’ve been true but after an epiphany a few nights ago with the help of two glasses of wine and 2 slices of fudge cake, you realized that you should stop pushing for things to happen and for love to knock on your door instead of the other way around. “Don’t push it.”

Jess laughed in defeat and told you that she was sending him on his way before hanging up the phone. For a moment you slunk into your ironically uncomfortable ergonomically designed office chair and laid your hand on the top of the seat so that you were looking up at the illuminated white ceiling. You didn’t know what to expect and the nerves of housing a stranger finally hit you; finding an apartment would take a long time, was he a creep or just plain-right annoying, or what if he accidentally plugs out your computer one day while vacuuming to help you out but you end up kicking him out but then taking him back in because you felt bad.

You collapsed your head onto the desk in front of you with your forearms on top of each other to cushion your forehead from banging on to the solid surface. Multiple irrational scenarios were occupying your mind just because you were socially awkward and never had a roommate other than a female friend or a family member before. As if having the lack of a romantic life, deteriorating social skills, and grades slipping faster than you could help yourself was bad enough, now you had the only comfortable place that you had to yourself was essentially stripped away from you no matter how nice your new roommate was.

Before you could have more minutes to spare sulking and pitying yourself, you heard an erratic amount of knocks and kicks to your door. “Are you actually kidding me Jess,” you huffed while dragging your furry slippers across the floor, “do you not realize that it’s midn-”

“Hello, heard you were kind enough to lend me a room” a handsome man smiled as soon as you swung the door open angrily thinking it was Jess with her usual rowdy behaviour that always gathered a list of complaints from your fellow tenants. ‘Handsome’ and ‘smile’ were quite the understatements; he was undeniably attractive especially with his wavy brown locks sticking to the sweat on his forehead and the dim hallway lights that practically twinkled in his eyes when he showed you his toothy grin although he was carrying a giant box- Holy shit you were too busy checking him out to realize that he had been carrying up his whole entire luggage up the stairs.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry,” you spluttered before opening the door wide enough for him to maneuver his way through the small entryway. “Should’ve told you that this place doesn’t have elevators.”

He set down the large cardboard box and wiped the perspiration dripping down his neck with the back of his hand. “No, it’s my fault for being cheap and not using a moving company.”

You were expecting him to retreat back into the hall to move in at least one more box or bag but all he came with were the clothes on his back and a beat up looking box. “That’s all you have?” You asked closing the door slowly just in case he was catching his breath and was bringing in more of his belongings but he shook his head and close the door himself with the large palm of his hand.

“Nah, I just brought the essentials and had planned to get everything shipped out to my new place from Japan just in case something came up,” he leaned against the door after turning the lock. “And just my luck, it did.”

You cocked your head to the side, fascinated by every single word that he said and every single one of his mannerisms that he displayed. “Good planning,” you said as his head slightly lolled against your door as he gazed down at you with relief. “So Japan huh?”

The worn out man was suddenly hit with a burst of energy as he seemed to forget to introduce himself to the kind and attractive girl in front of him, slightly embarrassed at how lazily he presented himself in front of her. “Yeah, my name’s Yuta. Nakamoto Yuta, sorry for the late introduction.” He rubbed the back of his neck in his nervous habit but silently resented himself for doing that as he couldn’t shake her hand now that it was covered in sweat.

You introduced yourself and gripped the two open holes on the side of his box to lift it up and bring it into the storage room where you had planned for him to stay but as your knees straightened from your squatting position to prevent throwing out your back, you started to stumble backwards.

“Careful,” Yuta chuckled beside your ear as he stabilized you with his big and callus hands around your elbows. He turned around so that he was in front of you and took the box with ease and nodded his head, a signal to lead him into his temporary room.

“Thanks,” you said quietly under your breath before turning swiftly onto your heel and into the room that you had prepared haphazardly for him; now regretting it as he was nicer than you had expected him to be. But was his angelic face alluding to that impression of him as you only had interacted with him for less than a good five minutes or was it because he genuinely seemed that way. “Uh sorry for the messy space,” you cringed as you glanced at your random mish mash of toys that you had never had the heart to toss out or donate and all of the ugly and amateurish paintings that you did to relieve stress.

He set his things down and placed his hands down on his waist as he looked at the same room that you were looking at but he interpretation was entirely different. “I like it,” he smiled. You stared at in with your brows knitted in confusion but he didn’t look down at you, too fascinated with the contents surrounding him. “I don’t know what kind of person you are, but if I did I would think this room is a good reflection of you.”

You scoffed, “messy, dusty, and filled with waste.”

Yuta frowned at how you described what he thought what was like your own personal art gallery, “it’s not waste if you like it right?” You shrugged and twisted your mouth from side to side searching for an answer to his rhetorical question but you ended up speechless. “If in that moment it kept you happy then you shouldn’t be ashamed of keeping it.” The slight shame that you had was lifted like a boulder off of your shoulders and all that you could do was look at him in awe, you had never heard anyone justify your attachment to the past in that way before. “Sorry, getting all philosophical on you.”

“No,” you said quickly. He finally faced you and scanned your expression, amazed at how his simple and honest words had affected you so much. “That makes me more comfortable, which reminds me I should let you get to unpacking.”

“Not much to unpack,” he laughed. You were turning to the door but before you could close it behind you he called out quickly, “anything I need to know?”

You thought about it for a second before poking your head through the small space between the door and the frame, “I’ll lay down the house rules when you’re done.”

When Yuta saw the door unravel from your grasp from the other side of the door he had released the wide grin that he was desperately trying to hold back when he was with you. ‘House rules,’ he thought, ‘cute.’ Curiosity was getting to the best of him and although his muscles were screaming at him to slow his pace of placing his items around the room, he rushed to hear what rules you had set out for him. But when you had set two cups of coffee in front of him and started telling him what you had wanted, he was nothing short of disappointed.

“That doesn’t seem quite fair,” he murmured as he sipped the fragrant coffee that coated his stomach in warmth. “Do you dislike me already?”

“No! No!” You quickly rebutted. “It’s just that I don’t want us to bother each other.” You looked down at the milk still swirly in your coffee from when you first poured it to avoid his sincere and confused stare.

“I understand that but ‘pretend I don’t exist?’ Isn’t that a bit much?” He gently stroked your hand that was cupping your mug with his fingertips, “I’ll make you regret those words and be the best roommate that you ever wished for.” You’d had been trying to build a wall since he stepped in because you knew subconsciously that you would fall for him at one point but when he looked at you like that you couldn’t refuse.

And both of what you predicted was true.

For the next few weeks, time had seemed to fly by faster than you had wanted them to. Every single day you’d wake up to a freshly brewed cup of your favourite tea or coffee depending on how tired you were and you reciprocated with his usual breakfast of oatmeal and strawberries although you couldn’t stand the sickeningly sweet smell in the morning. Since his classes usually started in the evening he would pack you lunch, and you would welcome him home with a hot home cooked meal with all the recipes from his mom who he had always gushed about.

Living with him seemed like a dream, you had felt like a college couple rather than a pair of accidental roommate and you knew when it was time for him to leave it would be hard to bare but you let yourself fall in love with him anyways.

“Hey!” Yuta called from the kitchen. “Wake up lazy, how naps do you take each week? Hurry up the food’s getting cold!” The one time he decided to cook dinner, he had to make a big deal out of it you thought as you squeezed your eyes shut as if it would also block out his nagging. You heard the swishing of slippers against your wooden floor but smiled when you didn’t feel Yuta nudging you awake as he would usually do. “Rise and shine,” he said softly in front of you, making you shriek when you realized that his face was only centimeters from yours.

Unlike you, he was perfectly calm and sauntered to the dining table, waiting for you to join him. “You’re annoying you know that?” You sighed, trudging your feet towards him. “Also nice apron,” you shook your head while chuckling at the printed white and pink roses that made him look like a housewife straight from an infomercial.

“Take it off for me,” he smiled with his arms held up in a straight line so that you could untie it for him.

“You have arms, you can do it yourself,” you rolled your eyes before sitting down.

He pouted and started to shake his arms that were still in the same exact position, “same arms that cooked for you c’mon don’t be difficult.”

You groaned and sat up from your seat quickly and started to unravel the knot that held the strings of the apron close to his toned body until you felt his arms wrap around your back and hug you lovingly. “Creep,” you exclaimed using both of your hands to shove him away from you.

Yuta plopped down into his chair in defeat while a stupidly cute beam spreading from ear to ear, “I am oh so sorry, consider this meal an apology,” he said while twinkling his fingers across the wide menu of Japanese food in front of you.

You clapped your hands together in front of you in awe, “please introduce them.”

He smiled at your excitement and started pointing at dishes that were in front of you to the ones nearer to him, “that’s just plain ol’ miso n’ rice, that’s tsukemono which is pickled vegetables, uhh hmm how do I explain the next dish…” Your eyes started to wander from the dishes to look at his concentrated face which was deep into thought to try and explain to you what the large grilled fish in front of you was. “I don’t know what kind of fish it is but I just know it from it’s appearance but it’s salted and fried. Nothing special.” He’d noticed that you were daydreaming while peering at his face; he shifted his gaze at you abruptly and placed his entwined hands under his chin. “Looking good?”

You coughed when your eyes had adjusted and realized that you had been staring for an uncomfortably long time, “let’s eat!” You picked up your chopsticks and placed the small cubes of silky tofu from your small bowl of miso soup into your mouth, it instantly melted and crumbled under between the roof of your mouth and your tongue. “This is really good!”

Your cheeks had started to rise in temperature when you saw that Yuta was in the same exact position, still intently fixated on your face enjoying how much you liked his cooking. “You had a piece of tofu honey, it’s that good?” Your face had scrunched up after that statement when you had just simply said what was on your mind but he picked up his chopsticks and removed the spine of the fish so that he could remove a piece of soft white meat and place it on top of your mountain of rice, “there, try that.” Once you scooped the rice and meat into your mouth, your eyes widened at him and your head nodded vigorously signifying that it tasted amazing. “Glad you like it, because I have something to tell you.”

You frowned slightly, when he had good news he usually was brighter and more cheerful, basically spewing rays of sunshine everywhere he went but when he had bad news he always said it with a smile and an almost nervous tone when he always seemed calm and relaxed. “What is it?”

He placed a mouthful of food inside his mouth and finished chewing before answering you, “I found a nice apartment. I think I’ll be moving out soon.”

“Oh,” was all that you could say to him since a jumble of words were refusing to form inside of your head to compose a literate sentence as the thought that he was never intending to stay for a long time had totally flew across your head. How could you forget that? Did you really think that you could play house with one of the most attractive, kind, and funny person that you had ever met and have him reciprocate the same feelings as you? “Uh that’s really good, I’m glad you finally found somewhere.”

His gaze was set on the window, revealing the bright city lights and moon covered by soft wafts of translucent white clouds that were brushing by pushed by the night wind. “Can you believe it’s been a month?” A month? That long already? His tone was melancholic and you had set down your chopsticks before even realizing it.

“When are you leaving?” You managed to choke out. You gulped down your tall glass of water to hide the fact that you were shaking from your voice to your hands.

“Tomorrow,” he said with a completely straight face, an expression that he had never showed to you before.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You were hurt as a plethora of questions were rushing through your mind as well as the blood that was pounding in your head. Did he want to get out of here as soon as possible? Did the time together mean nothing to him compared to what it meant to you? “Do you dislike me that much?”

Yuta walked over to your side and kneeled on one knee in front of you, you tried to avoid his gaze as you could feel tears accumulating in your eyes but he cupped your face with one of his hands and the other was resting on top of you hand. “How could you think that? Does me leaving make you that sad?” You knew that if you had answered then the tears that you were forcing in were going to release so you did simply nodded and turned away. “Then be mine. Date me.” Your eyes widened and it was although his soft words had dried your tears.

A moment ago you were hating yourself for ever liking him, for giving him your emotions but now you were trying desperately to close them off as you had never envisioned this of happening. “I don’t think I’m ready.”

He smiled and quickly pecked your cheeks with his lips, “alright. I’ll miss you then.”

And that was the last thing he had said to you before he had left the next morning as you two were too bashful to say anything other than goodbye.

For the past week since he’s moved out you didn’t bother going into the storage room, you didn’t bother to use the kitchen and make food like you had used to and all that you could do was cry and sulk in your bedroom. It wasn’t like he had ghosted you or had fell off of the edge of the Earth, it just didn’t feel the same when you had met up with his quickly for coffee.

But as you were cramming on a Friday night to finish your Biology seminar with your less than helpful partner who you knew would rather be going to a crazy rager, you suddenly got a text from him asking if he could come over and pick up something that he had forgotten. Almost instantly, you shamelessly texted him back and told him he could come over anytime of the night which you regretted as that became the only thing occupying your mind.

When you returned to your laptop set on the dining room you looking over to the left to see Johnny rummaging through your refrigerator, “may I help you?”

“I finished what you wanted me to do,” he said indifferently.

You nearly stood up from you chair from his words, out of all people you would never expect him to put an ounce of work. Your fingers were quick to scroll through the slideshow presentation for your seminar and you were enthralled to see that not only did the visuals look amazing but the content was also up to par. “This is too good to be true,” you muttered. Your head whipped towards his direction, making him jerk back a little bit in surprise, “this isn’t plagiarized right?”

His tall and lean body leaned against the fridge door, “considering that I paid for my own tuition with my own money I can’t afford to get kicked out, also thank you for thinking so highly of me.”

You walked over to the fridge and ignored his snarky remark, “what are you looking for? You’re adding more onto my electricity bill.”

“You only have orange juice and soy milk,” he muttered. “I’d like a reward drink for all of the work.”

You looked at the last bottle of soju at the very bottom right corner of your fridge and snatched it up before closing the door, “sharezies?”

Johnny scoffed and opened the bottom cooly by slamming it on the corner of the dining table while you grabbed two shot glasses from your cabinet. Both of you sat the opposite of each other and as soon as you started to pour his share his eyes stared lasers into the glass. “Are you that desperate for alcohol?”

“I was just asking for a refreshing glass of coke maybe or some sparkling water but this isn’t too bad either,” he grinned.

And just like that both of you were down to your last shots, and like the light-weight you were you were about to be completely out like a light. Once you and him gulped down the last drops of the bottle, you were collapsed face down on the table. “Oi I didn’t think I would be taking care of you out of all people on a Friday night,” Johnny snarked.

“Leave me alone,” you sighed. “Just go home, I’m safe here anyways.”

You felt the tip of his elbow knock the smooth wood of your table, the vibration of his small action was washing through your forehead making you groan in slight pain. “I don’t think so. What if you throw up and choke on your vomit?”

You sighed and lifted your head up slightly so that you could rest your elbow on your forearm and glare at his smug face which was supported by his hand on the side of his face acting as a pillar. “I’d rather have that than you stay here any longer.”

He pretended to hold his chest in pain, his face scrunched up as if your statement was an arrow to his heart. “Ouch, I will take my leave then m’lady.” You waved him off as he stood up clumsily and heard him put on his shoes loudly as he kept slapping your walls to keep balance. The cold breeze of the door opening soothed your throbbing headache that was progressively getting worse. “I think you have a visitor,” Johnny called out.

You turned around to see who he was talking about and saw Yuta with his bangs covering his eyes, hiding his expression. You couldn’t deceiver if it was hurt or just pure anger at your audacity to have another man at your place when you rejected him. As you stared at him to try and decode it Johnny looked at the two of you innocently and read the situation, “I guess I’ll leave them. Thanks for today and good night.” He closed the door behind him and left a lingering trail of the night breeze.

Yuta stood motionless for a second and let a small chuckle out before tossing the keys in front of your feet as you stumbled upwards to walk over to him and explain but it felt like he tried to stop you from coming any closer to him. “If you didn’t want me then you could’ve just said so,” he said.

“Yuta no that’s not- I really do like y-” you stopped yourself. Although that statement could fix this ordeal and finally draw the line between you two you couldn’t bring yourself to say it.

He finally brushed his bangs to the side and revealed his glossy eyes. He wasn’t angry or hurt, he was betrayed. “I wouldn’t have waited.”

“Yuta please!” You ran out of the apartment after him and made it to the stairs that were outdoors and freezing as you didn’t bother to slip on any footwear. “It’s not what it looked like, we were working on a project and had a little celebration drink and I sent him off I wouldn’t-”

“You don’t need to explain.” He stopped your trail and walked up the steps so that he was of eye level with you. “You made it clear to me already.”

Before he could turn around and start making his way down the stairs again you grabbed the tips of his fingers and slunk down on to your knees. “I’m scared of liking you.”

You heard silence for a moment and felt your heart drop when his fingers slipped out of your grasp. The tears that you didn’t even realize were forming had overflowed down your cheeks until you saw Yuta bend down and wipe them off. “Why? Why didn’t you tell me?” His eyes were now clear and sincere, making you pour out your feelings to him. “I thought if something happened then I’d be happy but I push everything I love away from me.”

He smiled softly and lifted your chin up so that you were looking directly into his eyes. “Didn’t you always say how you wanted love to come knocking on your door? That you wanted things to happen naturally? Then don’t push it away. Like how you keep your nick knacks with you when we first met, if you like something there’s no reason to push it away.”

And slowly his lips pressed softly against yours, nearly tickling your before he pulled you into a hug.

It was more than merely a kiss to signify the start of your relationship but more of his comforting you and telling you to live and love unregrettably.

[ageeksnerdyworld]

It’s Only A Nightmare

Characters: Jett Leach, Emery Becker, Avia Carstairs, Kelly Ronan O’Connor, Isabelle Lombardi, Scribe Jenkins, Holland, and Walker

Word Count: 6,485

Trigger Warning: Death, Violence, Swearing, Fire, Flashback, PTSD Episode

A/N: So this took like forever to write because I’ve been sick and I had my wisdom teeth taken out. It’s real hard to write while you’re super drugged up and in pain. Also according to my laptop that word count equals 15 pages. And always The Cyber World and the viruses therein belong to @voiceoflarka

Summary: People are falling victim to heart attacks all over Dashland. None of the cases are alike except for that fact. The body count is growing. And so the team is sent on their first field mission. Click the read more if you want to.

~~~

The young woman tried to run but it was of no use. The shadows that chased her looked real but they weren’t. The monsters that lurked deep in those shadows weren’t real either. She felt them. Her fear was real. And that’s all that mattered.

All Enjay Sno could hear outside of her own screams was the sound of her boots against the concrete sidewalk.

Her mother always comforted her whenever she had a nightmare when she was a child. But she wasn’t a child living in her parents’ house anymore. She had moved out years ago and started to make her own life; she hadn’t even spoken to her mother in months. And she wasn’t really having a nightmare.

She ran down the alley and out into the street; screaming.

When the local police found her body the case surprised everyone at the station. The young female fox virus didn’t die because she was hit by a car. In fact she wasn’t hit by any of the vehicles on the road that night. She miraculously didn’t have a single scratch on her person. It seemed that her heart just gave out on her. The medical examiner ruled her death as result of a sudden cardiac arrest.

A few weeks went by and the young woman was quickly forgotten.

Key Scotts could feel the fear running through his veins as he searched for the source of his terror. But there was no one around. There was nothing to be seen in the middle of the woods and the deep, dark, of night. He had no reason to be there on a normal day especially if he was in his right mind. But neither of those things were the case.

Everywhere he looked he saw something terrifying.

He ran from everything that was out to get him. He ran from his deepest fears. He died cold, alone, and afraid. He had everything going for him in life. Just like the woman his death was ruled a sudden cardiac arrest. He was the son of a prominent lawyer; going into the same field of study. He had a fiancé and a happy home life. There was no reason for him to die that quickly. His family issued a statement to the press against the dangers of drugs.

Suddenly there were five dead and no one had any answers.

XXXXX

The day started just like any other day; hell on earth. Mornings were always hectic ever since the group was put together as a team. It didn’t make much sense to any of them. Putting eight people all on a single team? It was insane. This meant that eight people had to share a kitchen, a bathroom, and a living space. While a few team members were somewhat absent in the morning from time to time it was always chaotic.

“Avia you can’t hog the shower! There are seven other people here!”

“Calm down, sweetie,” the bird virus’ voice rang out from behind the bathroom door. “There should be enough water for you when I’m done.”

“Are you sure becau—Wait a minute! Was that a short joke?” Isabelle yelled; banging on the door.

Emery was sleeping soundly on the top bunk but the commotion from the girls woke him up. He tried to go back to sleep but that’s when Isabelle started banging on the door. People who never lived with a larger amount of other people tended to forget that most places had thin walls. Most of those people also usually thought that walls were completely sound proof. Giving up on sleep he swung his legs over the side of the bunk and hopped down. He knelt down and peeked into the bottom bunk. He saw a body shaped pile of blankets and pillows but he nudged it just to be sure. Jett responded with an annoyed grunt and rolled on his side; away from where he thought Emery was.

Satisfied that his best friend was still alive he groggily walked out in to the hallway.

“Ladies, ladies, stop yelling. There’s a civilized way to fix this.”

He walked into the kitchen and turned the hot water on full blast.

Avia came running out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel; carrying her clothes.

“You stupid troglodyte!” she yelled as she slammed the door shut.

“Hey! I’m not a caveman!”

“I’m honestly surprised you even know what that means,” she retorted through the door.

He opened the fridge and grabbed the first thing his eyes landed on. Grabbing a spoon from the utensil drawer he spun on his heels and walked to the living room. Once there he plopped himself down on the couch with a sigh. He pulled the lid off the yogurt cup and licked it clean. Sitting alone in the living he peacefully ate his yogurt while the others woke up and made their way to the kitchen.

Soon the others woke up and the dorm got a lot more hectic as people fought for the bathroom, space in the kitchen, or some other thing. Walker was making pancakes for the group which surprised everyone. Holland made a batch of tea which surprised no one. Kelly sat at the table with a mug of coffee and a bottle of whisky and was currently pouring the whiskey into the mug. Everyone was going about their morning. Except for Jett who seemed to still be asleep.

Emery sighed and got up from the couch.

He knocked on the door to the bedroom that he and his best friend shared. Jett answered with a grunt. Emery tiptoed in and closed the door behind him. He could see that in the bit of time that had passed Jett had moved around quite violently in his sleep. The bed was now a total mess. One of the blankets was shoved off the bed and wedged between the frame and the wall, another blanket was half on the bed and half draped off the edge. None of the blankets were actually on Jett’s body. His black tank top was full of wrinkles and rolled up; exposing his stomach. He held a pillow over his face with one arm draped over it. His other arm dangled off the side of the bed.

Emery walked over to the bunk bed and sat on the edge of the bottom bunk.

“Bro you gotta get up.”

“Nuh-uh.”

Emery gave Jett a hard shove. Jett responded in kind by slapping his friend in the face with a pillow.

“Dude, today’s the big day.”

“I don’t care.”

“Pretty sure you don’t want to be stuck in here all by yourself while we go take down bad guys, bro.”

“I’m not moving until somebody finds that bitch.”

“Well, you’re not gonna know if we find her if you stay here all day.”

Jett grunted in agreement and got up. Emery left the room and gave his friend time to get ready. Everyone else was ready and waiting. He gave the group a wink and they all collectively sighed. Once he was ready Jett emerged from his room to see everyone waiting expectantly. Avia was a bit annoyed having wanting to make a good impression with whoever they were working with. Jett apologized and held the door open for everyone as they filled out of the room.

Once outside the team made their way to the police station.

XXXXX

They were assigned to tag along with Detective Legacy Root. He was a good cop, with over thirty years on the force, who was nearing his retirement. Root was a grizzled centaur virus with a splattering pattern of gray, black, and white all over his horse torso and legs. The human half of his body was tan and muscled even in his old age. He had gray hair that matched his beard and a few freckles across his nose. His tail was stark white. His eyes were a deep brown, almost black, color and they set a stern and steely gaze on the group as they entered the station.

“Look what the Academy sent us, Sarge, a buncha wannabe heroes,” the voice of rookie cop Tyke Bunsen loudly proclaimed to his friend as well as everyone else in the room.

“Think y’all took a wrong turn this ain’t the playground, kiddos,” Sarge Rajah added; laughing.

Legacy turned his stern gaze on the young cops and they quickly shut their mouths. He greeted the group as they approached his desk. He took in each person who stood in front of him for a minute or so. There were eight of them in all and the detective was surprised that the Academy let this big of a group even exist. Even though he had been given a briefing on the group prior to their arrival he let each one of them introduce themselves.

“Go grab some chairs for yourselves,” he said once introductions were over with, “unless you all prefer to stand.”

The group left except for the black rabbit virus.

All Legacy knew about the kid was what the Academy knew. Which was actually next to nothing. The rabbit, Walker was their name according to the Academy’s records, looked around the station as Legacy went about collecting the copies he had made of the case files. The detective watched the rabbit out of the corner of his eye as they surveyed the room. Soon the group was all together again the detective handed out a copy of the case files to each of them.

After they had discussed the known facts of the case he let the kids ask a few questions. The tall, lanky, ginger kid didn’t ask any questions so much as he just talked out loud. The rest of the group ignored him and so Legacy did the same.

“This is crazy. We’re actually working a case, you guys! Heart attacks ain’t much of a real case if ye ask me but I can’t believe we’re actually doing this! This is the best day ever. Actually, no, that’s not true. If we saw any 99ers out there doing stuff then it’d be the best day ever.”

“Babe,” Avia whispered. “I love you but do shut up.”

Walker picked up one of the files and stared at one it with a murderous look. After a minute or two Walker set the file back down on the desk without a word; leaned against the side of Legacy’s desk and crossed their arms over their chest. Two of the girls, the dark skinned one with round glasses and the one with the Devil’s Eyes, asked if he had any suspects yet. He chuckled lightly before going into detail about the few suspects he did have in mind.

A small time crook with who went by the name Hilarity was a possible lead. Hilarity was one of the local criminals with a power of the Empath variety. Usually the guy would make his victims laugh until they cried using the scene to commit robberies and make his escape but it wasn’t a stretch that he had changed his MO. There was a succubus virus that had become quite known to the police recently who could’ve been involved. Another possible lead was this suspicious vagrant woman who had been seen in the area recently. No one knew anything about here but this wasn’t the time to be leaving out any suspects.

And, of course, there was also Fiyero Nonagon.

“Fiyero Nonagon isn’t your normal Empath, kids.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Emery asked trying his best to tone down his usual snark.

“He’s pretty damn dangerous, that’s what it means.”

Walker turned a suspicious eye on the detective; looking him up and down but said nothing. The detective returned the look and Walker nodded; clearly impressed.

“What makes you think an Empath did it?” Jett asked; hand raised.

“No need to raise your hand, kid,” Legacy said with a chuckle. “This isn’t math class.”

An awkward silence fell as his joke went right over the group’s heads. Legacy gave them all a slight nod. These kids didn’t want to mess around and that was commendable. If any of them wanted a career in law enforcement in the future he wouldn’t be surprised.

“Like I said before every victim’s death was ruled by our ME to be cardiac arrest which is a big coincidence. The only thing that connects these cases is that fact that each victim’s body was found in a place they had no reason to be—”

“What about the fifth victim, the human?” Scribe asked.

“What about ‘em?”

“They were found in the only place they would’ve been. Seneca Orion had no other place to be besides the church. The only place.”

“Could be a fluke,” Legacy said, “or maybe our perp is just getting more confident. That happens all the time. Far too often, actually.”

“So you’re saying we could have a serial killer?” Avia asked knowingly.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

With that he stood up from his seat and told the kids to follow him. Sitting around talking about the case wasn’t going to get them anywhere. And if the group really wanted to help, or at least finish their assignment, then they had to get going. The more time spent doing nothing the more time the killer could use to strike. For all they knew the killer already could have. The group had to work fast if they wanted to catch this killer.

Legacy lead them out to the front and told them all to stay put.

In a few minutes he came back in a large police van. The group stared at him all with different expressions. Walker’s face clearly showed that they didn’t think the van was necessary. Avia was shocked to say the least. Jett’s expression didn’t really convey anything that Legacy noticed. Both Kelly and Isabelle stared with wide-eyed excitement.

“Kelly was right you guys. This is the best day ever!” Isabelle said excitedly as they all piled into the police van.

XXXXX

The sermon room of the church was large, empty, and cold. Even the large stained glass windows seemed darker than usual. Only a few candles were lit on the altar at the back of the room. The confessional booth that sat on the left side of the altar was open and empty. A few small pamphlets and religious texts scattered the pews. But the entire building seemed dead to the world. It was if the building itself knew of Seneca Orion’s death and was in mourning. If rumors were to be believed Seneca not only grew up in the church but he never left its walls.

“Right in the Academy’s backyard. No wonder they sent you all to work this case.” Legacy said; taking in the scene.

He sent the group to look around the rest of the building while he surveyed the sermon room. Walker went off by themselves to look outside while Kelly and Avia searched together. Neither choices were much surprise to anyone else. Isabelle, Holland, and Scribe all went to search the Jett and Emery decided to stay behind with the detective and search the scene of the murder for clues.

In the sermon room there wasn’t much to see or to search besides the body of the deceased. So the boys went to inspect it first.

“Don’t touch it, bro.”

“Dude, bro, why would I touch it?” Emery asked feigning innocence.

“Because you always do shit people say not to do and the detective told us not to touch. If you touch it I will burn your hands off.”

“You’re joking.”

“Dude, do I look like I’m joking?”

Emery knew by the sound of his voice that Jett wasn’t joking from the very beginning but he just wanted to test it. He held his hands up in front of him and turned them around to show that he wasn’t holding anything suspicious. Then he made a big show of putting them in the front pockets of his jeans. Jett nodded approvingly and then both of the boys laughed at how stupid that was. They turned their attention on the body of the deceased.

The body of Seneca Orion was still and unmoving. He lay in an odd pose; on his stomach, face to the ceiling, arms and legs akimbo. His jet black hair fell down over the front of his face in waves. The longer sections stopped just short of his eyebrow. The shaved sides of his hair had an intricate design cut into the short hair. He wore a long blue scarf that was wrapped around his neck a couple times. The rest of his clothing was typical of those who ran in religious circles.

“Isn’t it weird that his body’s still here?” Emery asked.

“This guy was killed last night… or was it this morning? I don’t remember, man. But yeah it is weird that his body is still here.”

“Guess they wanted the detective to check it out first,” Emery said with a nudge in the detective’s direction.

As the group went about searching the church for evidence the detective’s phone rang.

“Root, it’s me.”

“What is it, Rajah? I’m on a case.”

“That’s just it, we got another one.”

“Dammit,” he said with a sigh. “Where?”

“Harbor on Fanend. Not too far from the church you’re at now, actually.”

The officer gave Root the address of the where the victim was found and wished him luck. Root thanked him for the information. He told Jett to gather the test of the team and when they were all back in the sermon room he relayed it to the group. Then they all group into the van once again and drove off.

XXXXX

The body was recently deceased. By the looks of it the victim had been murdered not too long ago. The soul was still leaking from the victim’s right eye; a dull pulsing sea green. The victim looked to have died in the same way as the other five. The victim was another male. But unlike the others he looked to still be a sprite. His dark hair was cut angled across his forehead. He wore blue and gray tennis shoes, tan cargo pants, and a dark gray hoodie. The way his body laid on the sidewalk it looked like he had died while running from the building.

This one’s just a kid, dammit! he thought angrily.

Legacy knelt down and looked at the body of the boy more closely.

The boy’s brown eyes were filled with terror and his face was now a permanent fearful expression. He had a small crack on the bridge of his nose as if he had been in a fight some weeks prior and the injury was almost fully healed. While he inspected the boy’s body the students behind him argued.

“Whoever did this has to be in the area still,” Avia said.

“Yeah,” Walker said, “they couldn’t have gotten far.”

“Well, actually, they could have,” Kelly said. “If they were in a car, or on a bike, or a motorcycle they could’ve gotten far. They could’ve gotten pretty far actually. And if they’re a mervirus then, well, we are by the boardwalk. Or if they can fly or if they have super speed or even speed burst powers—”

“Fucking hell dude shut up! That isn’t helping.” Emery said; cutting him before he could continue any further.

“Control your boyfriend’s mouth.”

“You think I have any control over anything he says? Or when he says it?”

“What should we do, Jett?” Isabelle asked; bringing the group back to the task at hand.

“Why are you asking me?”

“Because you’re team leader, dumbass,” Emery said.

“Oh yeah… okay um… I think we should look for clues around here. Maybe there’s something that’ll tell us where the murderer went.”

But before anyone moved to do anything Scribe tugged on Jett’s left arm.

“He went north. Could be going back towards the Academy or somewhere else.”

“Oh,” Jett said completely at a loss for what to do.

“We’re going north. On foot,” the detective said; standing up. And before anyone could protest he galloped away from them. The rest had no choice but to follow.

XXXXX

The group was approaching from the area from the south; going up the street. They were only about four or five blocks from where the sixth victim was found. And Nonagon was just there; waiting. He stood underneath a street lamp with an expectant look on his face.  He leaned against the lamppost with one leg bent at the knee and his foot resting up against the post. He wore a long tan, somewhat stained, leather duster jacket. Underneath the duster he wore a pair of dark washed blue jeans, black tennis shoes, and a plain white t-shirt. Legacy motioned the group to duck into a small alleyway and made them huddle up.

“I don’t like the look of this.”

“Oh yeah, really,” Emery said rolling his eyes; not even trying to hold back his snark.

Scribe tugged on Jett’s sleeve again and his ear turned to her direction. She whispered; “It’s probably an ambush. He’s just sitting there waiting for us. Ambush.”

“I agree, but, we’re kinda supposed to follow his lead right?”

“Maybe we can just talk to him,” Holland suggested.

“You really want to try talking to a guy who killed five people?” Walker asked. “Fucking pacifist.”

“I’m just saying we can maybe reason with him.”

“There’s no reasoning with psychopaths or serial killers, Holland.”

“Takes one to know one—”

All the while the kids were arguing Legacy was silent; blocking out the noise. He was unsure of what to do. It was pretty clear that this was an ambush. Maybe Nonagon wasn’t working alone like they thought. But he couldn’t see anything that pointed to signs of other people in the area. It didn’t make sense that he would just be here, a few blocks from where his latest victim was found, waiting for them. It was strange. Serial killers always do strange things but this was beyond that. He had to have backup posted somewhere or at least waiting on it to arrive.

But he didn’t want another body on his hands and so he had to act fast.

“By the looks of it he could be setting up an ambush for us. Now as far as we know he isn’t working with anyone else. I’m not sure whether he’s waiting for us or for his partner to arrive. So we’ll go with the latter and hope it works out.”

“What do you want us to do, detective?” Jett asked.

“You eight, damn they are eight of you isn’t there…”

“Yes, there is,” Scribe said matter of fact.

“Yeah. Yeah. So you eight are gonna all come at him from different sides, okay. How and when you do that is up to you, alright. I’m going to talk to him and maybe distract him so he doesn’t notice any of you.”

The detective walked over to the killer without giving the group much thought.

XXXXX

Jett divided the team into pairs and went about drawing a plan in the dirt of the alley. But then he realized that there probably wasn’t enough time for that and the plan was simple enough. They just had to circle the guy and then flank him when Jett gave the signal. He told everybody to make sure they didn’t all go in the same direction. He and Emery backed out of the alley and climbed to the top of the building on their left. They made their way down the opposite side of that building and rushed across the street. They had Nonagon’s lower right covered. While that was going on Kelly and Avia went in the opposite direction; ultimately taking the upper right. Isabelle and Scribe dived out of the alley and rushed up the street. They hid behind a couple trashcans and waited.

“Leaves us to stay here, then, huh?” Holland said turning to Walker.

“Guess so.”

Holland turned back to wait for the signal. The detective was alright from what they could see. The centaur virus was standing across from the guy, supposedly Fiyero Nonagon but Holland had no clue, with his arms folded across his chest. It seemed that whatever conversation they were having was going well. The detective wasn’t making a move to arrest the guy but the guy wasn’t making any moves on the detective. Then Holland saw a flash of reddish orange fly into the night sky before it dissipated into nothingness.

“That’s the signal, alright,” Walker said.

The group all rushed out of their hiding spots at the same time; affectively covering the killer from all sides. But instead of being frightened or the least bit surprised Fiyero Nonagon laughed.

“You’re resorting to this, Root? You’re sending Academy kids after me? That’s low. Even for you.”

“What’s he talking about, detective?” Jett asked; worried.

“Run along, little Fire Boy. Shoo. Go,” Nonagon said with a smirk on his face and a motion of his hands.

Jett instantly froze up.

But before anyone could react Fiyero turned his gaze on Holland. Holland screamed instantly and their entire body shook in fear. Their legs were quivering and felt like jelly; cold and weak. Their hands trembled at their sides. Their loud, terrified, screams never stopped. The shadows that crept in the corners of the nearby alleyways quaked in response.

The shadows moved with a rapid pace along the walls and the street; making their way towards Holland and the rest of the group. Long, outstretched, tendril-like shadows wrapped around buildings, pooled off edges of the sidewalk, and climbed up lampposts. A mass of shadows began forming on the ground next to Holland. The mass grew, pooling at the virus’ feet, and started to take shape. Soon the black mass wasn’t a mass anymore and instead was a pile of angry opossums. A few of the shadows wrapped around their legs and arms but the shadows slowly made their way up; creating a hooded cloak on Holland’s form. They were now concealed in total darkness. Their terrified screams echoed through the night air as they commanded the shadows to attack.

The black, void-like, opossums lashed out at whoever was near.

Avia screamed as the opossums jumped on her; slashing and biting at her. They scrambled up and down her body as she lashed out at them. But they were too fast for her and they evaded her attacks almost effortlessly. She struggled to pull her rapier out of its sheath at her side.

“Call them off Holland! It’s me, dammit!” she yelled in their direction.

“They can’t hear ye babe,” Kelly said rushing to his girlfriend’s side.

Suddenly he shadows were on him as well and many more were coming. Kelly gripped the handle of his axe with both hands and swung it at his feet. The blade of the axe cut the shadows and they dissipated into the night air. But more were coming, a few even starting to attack, and he still didn’t have proper footing on the ground.

“Get these things off me! Get them off now!” Avia yelled; her voice muffled through a sea of shadows.

“Give me a fuckin’ second will ya?” Kelly yelled back.

He swiped at the shadows but they were growing and growing.

The shadows engulfed his legs once more and he fell back on the ground. The shock made him lose grip on his axe and it fell from his hands. His axe was soon covered in shadows and unable to be seen. He lashed out against the shadows but it did nothing. More shadows crawled on his body; covering him from all sides.

Meanwhile Avia reached through the darkness; searching for her rapier. Punching and kicking at the shadow opossums didn’t seem to do much. And that didn’t do anything to the other shadows either. The shadows were suffocating her and she didn’t have many options left. She gritted her teeth angrily hating that she couldn’t get her weapon out. She tried everything she could and that was her only option. There was always the option of waiting for the others to possibly survive this fight with both Fiyero and Holland.

But if she did that she could be dead by that time.

Suddenly she felt a poke in the small of her back. She struggled against the shadows to turn and see what it was; hoping it wasn’t something that was actively trying to kill her.

There her rapier was seemingly floating in the darkness that surrounded her. But in reality one of the shadow opossums was holding it out. There was some part of Holland, deep inside the fear he felt, that knew what he was doing. Some small part of him knew that Avia wasn’t an enemy. Trying not to dwell on how insane and completely impossible this whole situation was she grabbed her rapier. In the same movement she swiped at the shadows around her.

“I made it out. I actually made it out,” she said between harsh breaths. Realizing what she said she shook her head and gripped her rapier tight.

“Of course I made it out.”

That much was true but the shadows were still everywhere; still on the attack.

XXXXX

Meanwhile the rest of the group, along with the detective, focused on Fiyero who was trying to get away during the commotion. While the commotion wasn’t enough to distract the entire group it was enough for Fiyero to dive across the street and into another alleyway. Legacy cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled to get the killer’s attention.

“We have you surrounded. This is over. You can--”

“It’s just you and those kids, Root. You can’t stop me.”

Emery stepped up, planted his feet firmly on the ground, and turned to the others.

“Stand your ground and cover your ears.”

With that he let out a scream that knocked over a couple trash cans and sent Fiyero to the ground.

“Dude!” Jett said giving Emery a slap on the back.

But the one attack wasn’t enough and Fiyero stood up once more; “Nice try, Songbird.”

“Songbird? What in the fuck?” Emery echoed with confused disgust.

“Oh crap,” Isabelle said readying her flail.

Fiyero rushed to where the others were in an obvious attempt to push the group back towards Holland and their shadows.

Isabelle swung her flail wide and it smashed into the side of Fiyero’s right leg. She pulled on the chain and the spiked ball of the flail fell away from the handle. With the spikes still embedded in the villain’s leg she punched him in the face. While that distracted him she yanked the chain and yanked the spiked ball from his leg. She pressed a boot down on the wound in his leg and leaned down; pressing the barrel of the gun against his temple. The black cord necklace hung off her neck the Nevermore talon dangling just a few inches from the man’s face.

“We got you now, mister. If you’d just--”

He gritted his teeth and yanked on her necklace; choking her and simultaneously pulling her face closer to his. Then he slammed his head against hers. She stumbled off him in a pained daze. He swung at her leg with his own and she fell to the ground.

In the middle of the group stood Scribe; frightened of all the noises around her. She sat on the ground, brought her knees to her chest, and held herself tight. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. As the noises around her became louder she thought about wanting to disappear. She closed her eyes tighter. Her shoes, and her feet inside, began to blend in with the dark gray of the road underneath her.

“Scri, do you have any—” Jett said turning to realize that she had seemingly vanished.

“Shit.”

“Don’t worry bro,” Emery said. “She’s probably gonna go do something awesome.”

Just as he finished his sentence he was tackled to the ground by Isabelle; completely caught off guard.

“What the hell? Stop it!”

Isabelle started hitting him and he put his arms up to block her blows. Kicking around he tried to use the momentum of his own body to throw her off of him. It didn’t work. Surprisingly she was stronger than her small frame made it seem and she held on. Elbowing her in the face he hoped the pain would distract her and he could wiggle free. But that was of no use either. He took a deep breath and waited for an opening.

He really didn’t want to do this.

But he had no other choice.

He let out a scream right in Isabelle’s face and it instantly flung her off him. Emery shook his head and pulled himself to his feet. Isabelle ran at him again but this time he was ready and he pushed her back a few feet with another scream. Soon she was engulfed in the shadows along with three other of his teammates.

“We’re fucked.”

Legacy and Jett tried to stay focused on taking Fiyero down. But the shadows at their backs were too much of a distraction. A large, swaying, shadow wrapped its form around Jett’s leg; tight. He tried to kick it off but it was of no use. A trickle of fear began to creep up his spine. Looking up his eyes met Fiyero’s and the trickle ballooned into a full on panic. His pupils went wide and his breath quickened.

Terrified, and unsure of what to do, Jett turned on the detective.

“What the hell’s gotten into you, kid?”

Jett didn’t respond. Instead he sent a harsh right hook to the detective’s face. Then he sent a knee to the detective’s chest. Legacy could see the struggle in the boy’s eyes as tears ran down his face. But he didn’t stop attacking the detective. His fear was too strong and overpowered any and all other rational thought. This was worse than the detective could have ever imagined. The rumors about Fiyero Nonagon were true. The virus wasn’t just some unstable junkie with powers.

They were dealing with a Nightmare Aura.

The detective shoved the teenage litten virus off him and he pulled his gun from the holster at his side. He turned the gun on Nonagon and pulled the trigger. But before he could actually get a shot off a small fireball hit his hands. In the pain and the surprise Legacy almost immediately dropped the gun. Jett’s right hand clenched in a fist and then opened again; a small fire emitting from his palm. He did the same with his left hand.

Jett launched fireball after fireball at the detective; forcing him back to the others.

Every last one of Jett’s team members were somewhere in that mass of shadows. And in this state he didn’t care if he was headed that way as well. He didn’t know, think about, or even care if his team was still fighting one another. The only thing that ran through his mind was sheer terror.

He forced the detective into the blackness and walked in after him.

Almost at the same time his fear suddenly melted away. So did Isabelle’s and her knees buckled underneath her. Emery caught her before she hit the ground. Holland gave one last terrified scream before they passed out on the ground. As Holland’s fear subsided the shadows began to crawl back towards the alley. The shadowy opossum figures dissipated into benevolent pools before gliding back to where they originated from. The long, flowing, hooded cloak that had engulfed Holland in complete darkness began to fall from his prone body.

Kelly was holding Avia; both of which were covered in minor cracks and scratches. Scribe came out from behind a mailbox; eyes wide and terrified. Her normal coloring slowly came back as she stopped using her camouflage. Walker found their way back to the group also covered in cracks and bruises. The detective slowly got to his feet and pulled small flecks of concrete out of his hair.

Jett was standing in the middle of the street; flames licking off his body. He stared out with wide eyes at nothing. His chest moved up and down in rapid time with his breathing. Panic crept up his spine once more. He wanted to run but there was nowhere to go.

Suddenly he was back home again.

He was outside and it was night. His parents were inside and they were crying; scared. His dad who always had a joke to crack or some other way to make light of a dark situation was shaking. His mom would always try her best to be a light in a dark room, to be there for those suffering, was now sitting the destroyed seating area of the bakery she tried so hard to bring to life. The majority of their small corner store bakery was trashed. Broken glass and cracked ceramic lay strewn about everywhere. He could feel the broken glass underneath his feet. He could feel a hand on his shoulder. He could feel the presence of two other people. One of those people stood next to him. She knelt down and whispered in his ear. Words he would never forget.

Burn it all down, Fire Boy.

He took a breath. Then another. A tear fell down his cheek. He couldn’t stop any of the others that followed. He stood there; stuck in terrifying moment he could never forget. Then he felt the very faint sensation of a hand on his back.

“Breathe,” a voice called. “You’re not over there right now, dude. Just breathe.”

Emery stood there with a comforting hand on his friend’s back guiding him out of the episode. Once his breathing was back to normal Emery pulled him away from the scene. Standing in the place where he almost set the detective on fire wasn’t a good idea. It wasn’t helpful. This whole thing was horrible. Emery talked to Jett the whole time he walked away from the middle of the road. Once they were safely with the others he sat Jett down on the sidewalk.

“Wh—where am I?” Jett said; blinking.

“It’s okay, dude. You just had an episode. But it’s okay. I’m here.”

“Oh, yeah,” he said forgetting about the others in the moment. “The others are here too, Je. The detective’s here too. We’re helping him with a case. You’re at the docks.”

“The detective. The docks,” Jett repeated; nodding.

“Where is that asshole by the way, Detective?” Emery asked turning to Legacy.

Everyone looked around for Fiyero Nonagon. But he was nowhere to be seen.

[transboygenius]

SE4SON: Chapter 1

Can...

Our story begins with Retroville's monarch of all things cool, Nick Dean, shutting himself in his bedroom, with the door locked. He sat at his desk, writing on a piece of paper with light hovering over. Every word he wrote down was in cursive. He was trying to complete a romantic letter to an unknown kid he wants to confess his true feelings for, but that kid should never know who their secret admirer is. That kid already has a partner of their own, or at least he thinks so. Not only has Nick disguised his handwriting for an identity seal, but also the note never included any pronouns or references to the writer's gender. Why go through all that trouble? Because, young reader, that kid he's writing to is a boy. Not a girl, a boy. A boy that left the young man's heart throbbing. The boy, probably straight, would freak out if Nick introduced himself as another boy in the letter. It's best if Nick didn't give the boy any hints of the writer being male, but he doesn't have to give any hints that he's female either.

This boy; He was short, arrogant, serious, nerdy, somewhat of a prick, he's the fault of all the calamity he saves us from, but Nick couldn't help but still adore him. Said boy has gotten on his nerves occasionally, but he always forgave him in the end. He can't stay mad at someone he's deeply fond with. He was talented, brave, and spirited, something that aroused Nick. While others find him annoying, Nick finds him cute. Of course, nobody should know that, so he plays along with the crowd. They wouldn't mind Nick being attracted to a nerd, but they would since this nerd is a boy like him. Nick would treat him like any other kid would, but inside, he apologizes afterwards. In all truth, he sympathized with the boy, but he's not allowed to be opened about it. Everything this boy did impressed him, as well as inspired him too. Luckily, nobody has ever caught Nick with any signs of him having a crush on said boy, because they are unaware of the young man's talent. He's a pretty good damn actor, one of the best you might say. He hasn't gotten all those main leads in school plays just by sitting around. However, what they don't know is that Nick also acts offstage, in real life. He's afraid people are not ready to know the real him, especially who he's in love with. Not even his own mom could see through his acting performances.

Boy and boy don't belong together, everyone says. They can be brothers, or friends, but not lovers. The same implies for girl and girl. In fairytales, the prince will only get a happy ending with a princess. In television and movies, two boys and two girls aren't allowed to show affection towards each other, so either will only end up with their intended opposite-gender love interest. Nick has seen it all, and it makes him sick to the core. These hetero romances in fiction are always so boring, forced, and unrealistic. Who falls in love in the middle of a battlefield? Why are love-hate (or abusive) relationships considered cute? That character could've had a much more healthier relationship with their same-sex bud. When queer characters are featured in media, which can only be aimed towards older audiences, they are portrayed as villains, then killed off in the end. And when not playing the villains' role, they are still killed off. All Nick asks for is positive representation of people like him, so he can actually love himself for once. Male and female romances are what people describe as "normal love." Meaning, you're only normal if you're heterosexual.

...anybody...

As for his feelings for said boy, he hasn't felt this way for another boy since preschool. During those early years, he had a crush on a boy, who loved to play dress-up and make macaroni art. Nick even drew a picture of them holding hands together. He didn't know anything about sexual orientation at that time, or what was considered right/wrong, he just believed in love. That afternoon, before Nick's mom came to pick him up, he walked up to that boy with a flower in hand. The boy freaked out and backed away in the corner, throwing building blocks towards him while saying Go away! Nick was just confused. Maybe he picked the wrong flower, he thought. When the children's parents finally arrived, the boy ran to his dad for comfort, and told him everything that happened today with a "scary boy."

This stirred up conflict between the boy's father, and his father, each one of them trying to put the blame on whose fault is it for Nick being into boys. When his emotional abusive father returned, he set Nick down on a chair, and yelled at him for two whole hours, cursing while hitting him with degrading words that stung his brain like needles. His father then showed him some old newspaper articles on the ugly truth, with graphic imagery, about how society treats minorities like him. He even threatened to boil him alive if he ever catches him being lovey-dovey to another boy again. Not really, but he knew how to scare his son straight. Daniel Dean didn't have any concern for Nick, he just didn't want to live under the same roof with a f*gget. After their man-to-man talk, Daniel restricted Nick of TV and his toys for two months. His mother was never angry, but she solely took his attraction in boys as a phase. He's currently 12 now, and he still hasn't grown out of this so-called phase.

Although Daniel walked out on his family a year later, part of him still remained with Nick. He's not here to hurt him, but that doesn't mean anyone else won't. He scared he might get shot in the head just for winking at a boy. Two male friends can't hug each other without being called sissies. If a boy takes interest in feminine things, such as glitter or Bonnie dolls, he is deemed a circus freak. No doubt, being openly gay in this society is dangerous. His kind is subjected to crude jokes and violence. Gay people are often visualized as explicit beings, and grown-ups fear children will start engaging into sexual activities if they're ever exposed to a same-sex pair kissing or holding hands. Most folks just find their way of love repulsive. Worse, Nick's a gay minor. Parents think they have the right to presume sexuality for their kids, looking upon homosexuality as for adults. He could grow up into a professional athlete, he could have muscles bigger than on any man alive, he could even take down a whole war by himself, but none of that will matter if he's gay. No amount of macho will save him from being dehumanized. Ever since he moved to first grade, he changed his image, took on a new personality, and lived as Retroville's new bad boy. He flirted with multiple girls, and kissed them on the cheeks. This was not who he really was, but people liked him that way. He has been living his entire life behind a mask. It can be tiresome pretending to be someone you're not, but it's what he does to protect his identity, even from who he loved. Nick Dean is the most popular kid in school, and if his true self ever came out, his social life would plummet.

As he reached fourth grade, he stopped all the kissing and flirting, for his own relief. Successfully convincing everybody he's straight, there's no need to try no more. However, he still lets his groupies get all over him. He doesn't have to persuade girls anymore, because now he can ignore them if he wants. Those poor empty headed broads; always fawning over him and trying to touch him. The other day, one of them stole his shorts from his gym bag. Sometimes, they will even fight each other for his love. Friendships were even ruined over sheer jealousy, just for talking to Nick. They'll take anything from the most gorgeous boy in town, whether he wears it or it came out of his mouth. While Nick respects them, and appreciates the fandom they built around him, he'd love them more if they all just leave him alone. He doesn't want any of those girls, nor do those girls have any chance of winning his heart. The only girl in his life is Betty, and she's his best friend.

...find me...

His eyes only set on one person, and that's the said boy. However, like the girls on him, Nick isn't likely to win the love of this boy, cuz he's probably straight. The boy used to hate girls, but it was only a phase most little boys go through: The cootie-phase. Nick never had a cootie phase, he had been gay all his life. This boy hit on multiple girls. Some were older than him. Said boy was head over heels for Betty Quinlan, tried to sweep this rodeo chick off her feet, and is possibly romantically involved with that Cindy Vortex. How? They hated each other. All the boys hate Cindy. Yet, Nick watched them as they slowly grow closer to each other. Things are changing, and so are they. The way those two suddenly turn nervous for one another, speak sweetly, and almost kiss. He once caught them playing footsie under the table, when he dropped to pick up his pencil. Their relationship is a hot and cold mess, yet they still don't part. One day, they're at one another's throats. The next, they're back to sweethearts. Day one, she strangles him to a near death, but then day two, they are going out to lunch hand in hand as if nothing happened.

The pairing was distastefully dysfunctioned, but why doesn't the boy see it? One thing for sure. Him and Cindy are both smart. Nick gets C's and B's. She always participated with him during missions. Nick's the one to only watch the events happen before him, maybe because said boy never asked him to tag along. The boy had more potential with Cindy than any other girl. She's always there for him, not Nick, despite her bratty and violent behavior. Nick does absolutely nothing about this, however. How could he even compete with that? Cindy used to be infatuated with Nick, but she was probably using him to make said boy jealous. Good thing Nick sought no interest in her. He hated seeing Cindy and the boy together. The way they hold hands and flirt twisted his stomach in knots. He could be a better lover to that boy than Cindy, and give him whatever he wants, but Nick knows he had no right to interfere.

This was the life of said boy, and he should do whatever makes him happy. Those two are together because they love each other. Nick's love is merely unrequited. What's the use of trying to win over a boy who doesn't love him back, especially if he's possibly straight? It's better if Nick just stayed out of the way, as usual. People think Nick is strong as he is, but they don't know he's mentally weak. Everyday, he's walking down that sidewalk, with an expression all relaxed and a sly grin upon his face. He may look like he's fine, and he's done a great job fooling the others too, but as he reaches home, he locks himself in his room, then lets out the tears he's been holding back. This boy is always on his mind, and Nick can't help but think about him, even while skateboarding through town. That could explain his numerous leg breaking accidents. If he truly loves this said boy, then he should respect who this boy really loves, even if it leaves him unhappy and lonely.

Every night, he puts all his energy into writing a full page letter, under an anonymous name. He wants that boy to know how much he means to him. He can't tell that boy up front and in person. If he is straight, then there's a good chance he might be homophobic, too. No way he could afford to live another preschool trauma. Just because they can't be together, doesn't mean Nick can't share how he feels. The boy can love whoever he wants, and whoever he chooses to be with is up to him, but Nick fears he will never get this angst off his chest unless this boy hears out his treasured secret. Every word is written by heart, and taken out of his head. Writing these letters always left his face glowing crimson red. His heart raced a beat. Cindy may have won the battle, but that boy deserves to know there is somebody else out there who loves him more than any other girl alive.

"Hi. We've interacted plenty of times before. Not sure if we're friends, and not sure if we're acquaintances either. You probably have no idea who's writing this. Well, it's best for the both of us. You may be unaware of this, but you don't know how loved you are. All those disasters that happen from your little cyber toys, I know they weren't your fault. From what I see, you were only trying to prove something. Hey, little man, it's okay. You still have a long way to go. Try being positive about yourself, because you being positive brings a smile on my face. You are creative, talented, and much more stronger than I am. Not physically strong, but strong in the real way. You make me proud. People say you are arrogant and show-offy, but that doesn't bother me. I've met guys far worse than that. I have been within those crowds of your peers, laughing at you, taunting you, but to be honest, I did that only as a cover up. Nobody would ever let me live it down if they knew how I really felt. I don't think they'd let me sympathize with you either. It can hurt me, just as it hurts you. These boundaries are the reason why we're separate. 

Listen, and listen good: I love you. There, I said it. I really needed to say something. No human being has ever made me feel this way in a long time. To me, you are worth more than anything valuable in the world, and no way I'd sell you. You play a much important part in my life than you think. I see you already have a significant other of your own. Cindy is her name, isn't it? Look, it says so on fate that we were never meant to be. I'm clearly not worthy enough for you, since I've mostly been absent in your presence. You're allowed to be with anyone you wish, and I have no intention of convincing you out of it. I'm only writing this to you because I feel I won't get any satisfaction unless you hear me out. If you were my sweetheart, I'd give you anything you want, just to make you happy. I wouldn't lay a single finger on you without your consent first. If you're ever in need for comfort, or a shoulder to cry on, I'll be there when you need me. Want me to get lost forever? I can do that! Please, you don't have to consider my love. I hope you understand."

Nick looked down on the letter. He seems to put more effort into creativity than his actual schoolwork/homework. The letter isn't quite finished yet. All he needs to do now is seal it into an envelope, ask for a hall pass during class, and slip it into the boy's locker without getting caught. It's time to set the record straight. He loves that boy, and damn right, he's gonna tell him he loves him before Vortex does. 

“GOD DAMMIT!”

Rage broke out for no reason. He took the letter and tore it to shreds. He never tears the envelope though, with said boy's name written on it. It happens every night after completing a note. Based on his opinion, none of them come out right the way he wants them to sound. He's been doing this for a year and two months already. He might as well give up. Laying his chin down on his desk, he picked up a small picture frame besides his lamp, looking eye to eye contact with it. It was a picture of the boy he loved. Why does he bother to continue looking at it when all it brings him is pain? He can't keep wasting his time and energy on a boy he knows he can never have. He can live with being gay. It's the perception of falling in love he never asked for.

...somebody to love!

[quietpagan]

What Falls and What Grows, ch. 18

*Warning for suggestive themes, bloody violence, character death, and violence and injury to a child*

Chapter description in end notes.

  I wouldn’t mind if life left me…

Wingless

Burnt to cinders

Ripped by storm

Scattered…like weeds

Celestially wounded

Without cherry blossoms to perish with

But I would cry

With head held in my hands

If it left me…unfulfilled.

-          Sanober Khan

  The baths were honestly becoming her favorite place, and Alex moaned when she sank into the warm, sulfuric waters. The stench of decaying flesh and gore washed off from her and away into the rest of the underground river, and she fervently scrubbed her arms and face, taking care to not aggravate her wounds but ignoring all orders to keep her bandages dry. Getting wendigo residue off was more important than not having to re-wrap her wounds. She hated that thing.

It was a good thing that the armor, once banished, reappeared whole and untouched by previous battles, or else she would have the worst time repairing it and getting the blood and muck out of its crevices.

She could only scrub her hair with one hand, since her top left shoulder had a very lovely gash in it. It was getting longer and she no longer bothered to keep it bound in a ponytail. It didn’t act quite as stiff and immobile as troll hair was supposed to, but it still wasn’t as tame as human hair. She wondered if she should cut it, but it was the only thing that made her feel rellay feminine; her species of troll didn’t have much in the way of sexual dimorphism apart from size, and there was nothing that could be considered feminine in a human perspective. She’d gotten the gist that females of her kind were supposed to be larger and scarier, but in terms of human standards she probably looked more male than ever. Throughout four centuries, Alex had always been more aggressive of mind and action if she could get away with it, but she had never thought herself unfeminine, and the loss of it with her troll form was a bit jarring.

Bagdwella at least could boast the hips and the bust; washing in the gleaming semi-dark, Alex felt nothing but flat planes and developing muscle. Missing boobs was not something that she had anticipated when taking up her troll form for good.

But trolls had different standards of femininity and beauty, she remembered. Although her human form became uglier and uglier over the years, due to her two forms beginning to blend, the twisted scars and muscles she was accumulating in her troll body were considered attractive, which would simply have to do. After her years of manipulating and flirting her way out of sticky situations, it was an ugly truth that being attractive in at least one way afforded one more opportunities and paved easier paths.

One thing, at least, had not changed, and Alexandra laughed out loud in the cavern at the thought of sidling up to Draal and asking him to help make her feel like a woman. The poor boy would probably have no idea what she was talking about, but his father, at least, would have himself a ghostly heart attack.

Still giggling, Alex rose from the baths and left for the Forge, not bothering to don more than her trousers and belt, since wearing her vest was less a necessity than a habit.

True to his word, Blinky was waiting there for her, looking significantly more grouchy than usual and it did not take much to guess that he was still annoyed about the trick she had pulled the evening before.

“Ah, Alexandra,” he said, throwing out his arms in welcome. “Our illustrious and honorable Trollhunter, returned from a dangerous but successful mission! I have no doubt that your considerable skills will hardly be challenged by today’s training.” Alexandra’s mood, lightened by her relaxing morning, fell immediately. Nobody heaped that much praise on somebody without planning on shitting on their day.

“You have either excelled or steadily improved in all areas except one,” Blinky said, crossing his arms behind his back and pacing around the arena��s edge. “So today I introduce to you your opponent: the lady Vorfrida!”

Alexandra turned to the right as a door opened, and saw a troll of Nomura’s ilk jump into the arena.

Blinky, returning to his spot by the stairs, pressed the button for the arena’s controls.

“May she teach you well,” he said with a grin. The floor shivered beneath Alexandra’s feet, and when she looked back up at Blinky there was a very ugly amusement in his eyes.

Fuck.

Alex had it made where strength and agility were needed; she had four arms to block and attack, enough upper body strength to hold her own, and flexibility to roll and maneuver however she liked. Her troll body’s main detriment was that, in contrast to her sizeable upper torso and arm strength, she had itty-bitty mother-fucking weiner dog legs.

Vorfrida jumped like a cricket as the arena turned from its usual flat surface into the three-dimensional nightmare that was hidden under its floors, and Alexandra vehemently cursed under her breath.

Blinky, being a cousin of Alex’s clan, knew very well that they were one of the few species of trolls that had absolutely no jumping ability. Even Draal’s stumpy little legs could get him far, far into the air, and a troll like Vorfrida, who was tall, lithe, and built with legs like springs, laughably outmatched Alex.

The other woman was an acrobat in comparison to Alex’s clumsy, heavy jumps and stumbles. She used her arms as much as she could, but the reality was that even if she had the reach to catch a ledge, she still needed to be able to jump high enough to actually grab it, and she probably looked like a really hideous little kid, trying to hop onto a too-high table.

Fucking Blinky, Alex grumbled internally, running forward and grabbing another level as it rose past her. Vorfrida, who had been allowing her to get her bearings, swung up like a lemur and kicked her in the face, nearly causing Alex to lose her grip. She swat, but the troll was already dancing across the next level, watching her with amusement.

“You’re putting too much on your legs,” Vorfrida said, walking along the edge of the level as it turned vertically. “You’re never going to catch up that way. Use your arms as much as you can and just let your legs supplement.”

Alex growled with effort but pulled herself up, pushing off her level with all six limbs. She landed on the level below rather farther than before, but the movement had pulled at the cuts on her shoulder and when she landed, she landed badly.

Blinky, being the goddamn son of the Devil, apparently was having a marvelous time watching.

“If I apologize, will you stop this,” Alexandra yelled, teetering unpleasantly on the edge of a blade. Blinky raised a brow.

“Why, Master Alexandra, I quite forgave you,” he said calmly. “But this is an important part of your training, and I would be remiss as an instructor if I did not allow you to learn it.” “I’ve learned enough, thank you,” Alexandra snarled, managing to land a glancing hit on Vorfrida as she twirled past. “Are we done yet?!”

“Oh, good gracious no, we’ve barely started! I can’t imagine why you seem to be having such difficulty.”

Alexandra, lowering herself off of a ledge before Vorfrida could strike her, shot him a brief middle finger.

“You know bloody well why! We’re not made for this shit!”

She couldn’t see over her shoulder, but just as Vorfrida crouched down by her hands she heard the grin in Blinky’s voice.

“That, Master Alexandra,” he said, and she knew he was having himself a wonderful time, “is why we train.”

  Alexandra was allowed to collapse when she was finally able to grab Vorfrida’s knee and hurl her off of the top of the Death Arena, where she landed on one leg and sprained the ankle. Alex still had to get down, but it was so much easier when she didn’t have another troll trying to pin her. Vorfrida allowed Alex to help her into the healing dwell, and they parted on amiable terms. She and Blinky, however, were apparently still at odds, because once she dropped Vorfrida off he gestured for her to follow him without a single word. She paused to buy some breakfast and then hurried after him as he slid through the crowds on the way to the library.

AAARRRGGHH was already inside and happily ate the food wrapper that Alex offered him.

“Good session?” he asked, grinning at the glare Alexandra shot him. She finished off her breakfast and threw herself down on a heap of books at his side, stretching luxuriously before lounging against his thigh. AAARRRGGHH was a touchy enough troll that she could get away with it, but she knew it would probably annoy Blinky to see her getting familiar with his friend.

“Your dear companion is a sadist, you know that?”

AAARRRGGHH rumbled happily and Alex relaxed further, enjoying the unusual amount of heat he put out against her sore and tired limbs. Blinky came in a few minutes later and was, as she predicted, annoyed.

“You may need to take notes, Master Alexandra,” he said, shoving a pencil and booklet into her left hands. She pulled herself into a sitting position as he scoured the bookshelves.

“I know that Vendel wished to be a part of our meetings,” he said quietly, with a short glance to the doorway. “But – given the unusual nature of our situation – I felt it may be prudent to discuss what we must do about the Killahead Bridge without…erm, censure.”

Alexandra was at full attention now.

“We have the bridge piece,” Blinky continued, pushing a desk away from the wall and peering through the bookshelves behind it. “In which case we have little worry about the bridge actually being completed whilst we formulate a plan, however! We cannot rely upon our one advantage, especially now that Trollmarket has proven itself to be not as invulnerable as we would have hoped.”

“The best course of action would be to steal the entire bridge, I should think,” said Alexandra. “Or find a way to truly destroy it. I can go back to the void and ask if there’s anything to be done there.”

“A reasonable idea, Master Alexandra, but consider: if the bridge were able to be destroyed in any way, why was it not?” Alex scratched her chin with her pencil, chewing the metal nub off of the end. “They could have wanted to be able to open it eventually,” she said quietly. Blinky and AAARRRGGHH both looked at her in surprise. She shrugged and leaned over her notebook, staring frankly at Blinky. “There’s no Trollhunting job without Gunmar and his army, is there? That’s what this whole job is about. Not everybody is as noble as you, Blinky.”

“…Su…ccinct, but not wholy accurate,” said Blinky slowly, hands wavering over a pile of crumbling scrolls. “The Trollhunter ‘job’ predates Gunmar’s reign; it was appointed as a way to battle the Gumm-Gumms, who were ruled by Orlagk the Oppressor at the time. Even with Gunmar dead, the title of Trollhunter would still be used for the warrior most capable of protecting both worlds, for even after Gunmar’s death there will still be danger, still be threats, do you see?” Alex nibbled on her pencil and nodded. “And destroying the Killahead Bridge will not destroy the cracks between our dimension and the Darklands; things will always be able to get through.”

“And just like Orlagk, when one leader falls, another will rise in his place.”

So much for the easy way out.

Alexandra lay back down on her pile of books, playing with the amulet in one hand.

“Then all we can do is try to prevent the inevitable for as long as possible,” she murmured, “and reduce Gunmar’s armies as much as we can.”

“Indeed. You said that you had a tentative alliance with the Changeling you spoke with, did you not?”

Alex huffed; Stricklander only allied himself for however long he felt it necessary, and breaking promises was like snapping a string of spider silk to a Changeling.

“For the gaggletack and Anstramonstrum crystal only. I merely gave them something to think about.”

“An unusual gesture,” Blinky said, quietly and with a hint of question.

Alexandra stayed silent, staring up at the carved ceiling as she thought.

This might not even end with me, she contemplated. She could die the next day, or a century from now. Gunmar’s defeat may come at the hand of the next Trollhunter, or never at all. She was merely the next name in a long list, the pen hovering in place for when the time came to cross her off and write the new name down.

I have a lot to do if I’m going to get anything done.

“I don’t want to alienate an entire people,” she said again, listening absently as Blinky sorted through books in the very back of the room. “They didn’t choose their ways; they didn’t choose which side they were taken in to. It wouldn’t be right for me to protect the troll and human worlds if I did not also protect those in between the two.”

“One would think that the Changelings have already chosen their sides,” said Blinky delicately. “As changeable as they may be, they have chosen Gunmar.”

“They’re brainwashed into a cult of violence and subjugation,” Alexandra said heavily. “They can break from that. We’ve already heard one story of it.” Behind Alex, AAARRRGGHH rumbled uneasily. Blinky paused from his search to glance at his friend, before resuming his perusal of the bowels of his library.

“Blinky, what the hell are you even looking for,” Alex said, raising her head just enough to look at him over the top of her chest. Blinky shoved a pile of books to a different area of floor and started to dig through them.

“I am looking for information on the bridge, Master Alexandra,” he said, finally coming up with a heavy blue volume. “And first-hand accounts are always the best. Especially when written by yours truly!”

Blinky set the book down with a THUD; the spine crackled and dust rose from the pages as he opened the tome. AAARRRGGHH had to duck his head to sneeze and Alex blinked dust from her eyes as she rose and sat at the table.

“How long as it been since that book’s been used?” “A few centuries, at least,” Blinky said distractedly, searching through the delicate pages. “I haven’t needed this sort of information since I got wind of a conspiracy two hundred and, oh, perhaps forty years…ago…”

He trailed off, looking at the table with distant eyes. Alex was about to ask what was wrong when he SNAPPED the book shut, releasing another cloud of itching dust.

“Blinky what the fuck,” Alexandra coughed, waving a hand in front of her face. AAARRRGGHH sneezed mightily.

AAARRRGGHH sneezed.

He sneezed.

Trolls couldn’t sneeze.

But AAARRRGGHH sneezed.

They didn’t have a gaggletack in the room and hadn’t AAARRRGGHH been tested already? He’d held the thing, tested other trolls with it – there was no way…

Blinky set down the book and hunched over, placing two hands against his stomach.

“Excuse me, dear friends,” he said in a pinched voice, “but my stomach seems to be giving me grief. I shall return in just a few minutes!” And then he left, abandoning Alexandra with a huge troll who could sneeze. Alexandra slowly edged around the table, carefully opening the book again and looking through it.

“I hope you didn’t eat whatever got him,” she murmured, trying to stall for time while Blinky hopefully fetched a gaggletack. AAARRRGGHH rumbled in response, knuckling through the crowded library to look at the book.

“Bridge,” he said thickly. “Not again.” “It won’t happen again,” Alex assured, still not certain if she were talking to AAARRRGGHH or a Changeling.  “We won’t let it happen.”

“Still new at Trollhunting,” he said.

“Don’t worry, big guy,” Alex replied, smirking at him as she summoned her sword and leaned on it. “I’ve got myself covered.”

AAARRRGGHH…looked her up and down.

“See that,” he said, with the hint of a smile. Alexandra didn’t stumble, but it was a very near miss.

What. What?

AAARRRGGHH didn’t flirt, which was exactly why Alex had avoided flirting with him for the most part, since it would garner neither amusement nor favor. There was no reason to waste time flirting with someone if it wasn’t going to get her anywhere. And AAARRRGGHH did not look at her with interest. It was like a fucking glitch in the Matrix.

Blinky came back through the doorway with three arms full of food, the fourth hidden behind his back.

“Nothing like a bout of bad stomach to make one hungry again,” he said with a nervous laugh. “AAARRRGGHH, my fine fellow? A spot of breakfast?” He pressed a number of metal scraps and plastics into AAARRRGGHH’s arms, and when the larger troll happily began eating Blinky drew forth his hidden arm and gently tapped AAARRRGGHH with the gaggletack.

Nothing happened, and AAARRRGGHH didn’t seem to notice. Blinky slipped the totem into a pocket and made his way to the table, setting down the rest of his bounties and looking at Alex with confusion. She shrugged. Whatever was going on, it wasn’t Changelings.

As they pored over the book, the softest breeze of breath over the top of her head made her shiver. She braced her hands on the table and leaned over the book, which was open to a depiction of various trolls who had died in the battle.

“You ask our formal Trollhunters for ideas,” Blinky said, getting them back on track, “while I study this account. There is, I know, much that I have willed forgotten about that battle.”

Alexandra took the dismissal for what it was, knowing that Blinky would want to examine AAARRRGGHH by himself. It occurred to her as she gathered half the foodstuffs and headed back to Draal’s room that Blinky probably would not want an audience when he went over the Battle of Killahead with his companion. By all accounts it was an exceedingly unpleasant fight, with immense casualties on both sides. The battle was a particularly significant one for Alexandra’s two trainers, since AAARRRGGHH switched sides during that fight and Blinky lost his brother. An audience for their reminiscing would not be welcome.

Before going to the Forge there were a few things she wanted to get from Kanjigar’s quarters and from Draal himself, who had probably been present at the battle or heard accounts from his father. Shifting the purloined junk in her arms, her thoughts of Draal turned darker and angry.

If Draal was acting funny too, she’d fucking slam him. The one person in her life that she currently trusted, enough to Change in front of him, enough to talk with him, enough to just be - if that was gone, if that was ruined…

The door opened when she kicked it, cats scattering everywhere. Sheset the food down on the desk, knocking over the various books and items Draal had acquired and placed there.

The larger troll, eating his own breakfast in bed, startled as Alex stomped up to him and grabbed him by the shoulder, making him stumble as she pulled him close.

“Trollhunter, what – “ She almost asked him if he wanted to fuck her, but found her self at a loss for words. He truly looked so surprised, staring at her as she huffed in his face.

They stood there for a moment, breathing in the other’s presence, until Alex watched his eyes and saw nothing but confusion.

She let go of his shoulder and backed off.

“Um. Is there something wrong - ?” “No,” she said, backing away another step. “Not with you. But – “ She stopped, trying to find the words. Working with someone wasn’t usually her deal.

But Draal knew everything. Everything. And she knew – if it came down to it – that she would be willing to take chances with him.

It was a Changeling rule to trust no one.

Screw it.

“Have you noticed Blinky or AAARRRGGHH acting strangely? At all?”

He considered it for a moment and slowly nodded.

“Perhaps a little. Do you believe they may be hiding something from us?” A cat rubbed up against her leg and she sat down on the nest, scratching behind its ears with one hand.

“I don’t think so,” she murmured. “They’re just strange. Do you know AAARRRGGHH tried to flirt with me just now?” Draal’s brown furrowed.

“That is…” “Extremely unlike him, I know. He nearly charged me for flirting with Blinky one time. I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t like that.”

“Maybe we should check on the bridge piece, just in case,” said Draal; Alex turned to him so fast her neck cracked.

“You think they’re working for Bular?” “I don’t know what to think,” Draal said loudly, waving his hands through the air. “But it could not hurt to check. And I believe that they are perhaps suspicious of you, Alexandra.”

The use of her actual name was what startled her the most, and she felt herself still.

“What do you mean?”

“Blinkous came in here not long ago, asking for the gaggletack I had taken from him. He looked so unnerved, I guessed that he was after you with it.” Alexandra shook her head, staring unseeing at the floor.

“No,” she said softly, “he was after AAARRRGGHH. We both thought he…was a little bit off…” “Oh,” said Draal slowly. “Then I made a mistake in giving him a false gaggletack?” Alex looked up at Draal sharply. “What?” “The gnome haunting your bathroom was in possession of one, I had to trade one of my belts for it. I assume it was the one you used to trick Blinky before?” Alexandra nodded but did not otherwise respond. The gaggletack didn’t work on AAARRRGGHH because it was a fake, but would the real one have worked anyway? It was AAARRRGGHH. AAARRRGGHH had held the real thing, used it – there was no damn way.

This is so damn messed up.

“I can’t process this right now. Let’s just go and ask them.”

Draal looked down at the half-finished breakfast in his lap.

“Now?” “Yes, now,” Alex said, donning her armor and pulling him out of bed. “We need to confront them directly, while he’s still being weird.” “I would not expect a direct approach to be a Changeling’s way.” “It’s not,” Alexandra replied, pulling him out of the room and through the quiet hallways. “Which is why direct confrontation is the best way to do it, otherwise we’ll keep going in circles and circles of lies and secrecy.” Draal muttered something like you are the expert, his words muffled by the last bite of breakfast he’d shoved into his mouth.

Yes, I damn well am.

When they arrived at the library they found it missing one occupant. Blinky looked up from the book he was studying and smiled grimly at them.

“Draal; good to see you recovered. Master Alexandra I hope you do not mind, but AAARRRGGHH excused himself several minutes into our recounting of the battle; the memory of it became rather overwhelming. I quite understand the feeling.”

Alexandra nodded, but gave Draal a gentle nudge to the abdomen. He briefly touched a hand to her arm and then left, heading off toward AAARRRGGHH’s rooms to investigate himself.

Alexandra settled back down in the library, gathering up the notebook and half-eaten pencil she’d left behind.

“Before we continue with our plans on the bridge, I’d really like to discuss some further security measures. The Isarnan community gave me a few ideas about runes and charms. They didn’t have much in the way of physical protections, but nothing dark or Fae could enter through the spells they had placed around the Heartstone.”

“It is certainly worth the research,” Blinky said, “but I would hesitate to up security much further. The economics of Trollmarket depend on its travelers and pilgrims, and already we have bottlenecked entrances.

“I’m not asking for pat-downs and interrogations; I’m just asking if there are any charms or spells for that sort of thing. There’s no such thing as being too cautious,” Alexandra said, and her eyes pointedly lifted to the bookshelf where hid the stolen piece of Killahead Bridge.

Blinky followed her gaze and softly trailed his fingers across the shelves, pressing aside the books until he uncovered the little wood and iron box. The piece of stone within clunked against the sides.

“There are several protection spells that can be made with the Heartstone itself, or pieces of it like the horngazels. Those would be best, in exchange for imported charms or homemade totems. A protective spell for Heartstone Trollmarket should come from the heartstone itself.”

His stony fingers scraped softly against the bridge piece as he lifted it out of the box, turning it this way and that to examine the carved lines on one side. Apparently satisfied, Blinky put the stone back in its box, handing it to Alexandra when she gestured for it.

“Are we quite sure that its safe here,” she murmured, lightly clawing the wooden sides of the container. It opened.

The box was spelled against Changelings.

“Nobody has stolen from this library since its beginning, and it will remain that way. My library is completely open and accessible, making thievery unnecessary. More to the point, nobody knows the bridge piece is even here to steal.”

“I still think we should move it somewhere else, somewhere not so public,” Alexandra said, handing him the box to replace as she internally panicked. The stone was secure but somebody had replaced the box. “Perhaps some protective runes as well. For this and the entrances and exits.”

Blinky had a mischievous glint in his eye as he played with the box and then put it back on the shelf.

“Well,” he rumbled quietly. “It’s a moot point by now. Every horngazel has been recovered, and our security is tighter than ever.”

“True,” Alex said, reaching past him to cover the box in its hiding space, very aware of the open door behind them. “But we should research just in case. I would rather not have to worry about Bular himself invading Trollmarket, on top of everything else.”

Blinky turned around and crossed his arms, glancing at her sideways.

“You don’t believe you’re overworking yourself, do you? Do not think that I haven’t noticed your lack of care toward your own wellbeing.”

“What, you’re watching me, Blinky?” Alex flirted half-heartedly, just to bother him.

Instead of grimacing as he usually did, Blinky smiled.

“As your trainer, naturally,” he said. “Your eyesight may be impaired but I assure you that my eyes miss nothing.” What the fuck, what the fuck? Blinky too?!

Alex called his bluff and turned into him, using her height to stare him down.

“I could name a few things,” she said, deciding to test this odd mood further. To her immense shock Blinky pushed himself off of the bookshelf and moved to her front, pressing her backward until leather book-spines dug into her shoulder-blades. He didn’t touch her, just barely, but he leaned close enough that she could feel the warmth of his body, and chills ran down her back.

I’ll kill him if I have to.

“Then you underestimate the weight of my glare,” Blinky said at length, four eyes locked on hers while the other two roamed excessively. Two upper arms rose to grasp against the shelves, blocking her in. Despite being quite taller than him Alex was extremely unnerved by the unexpected change in demeanor. His abrupt shift made him suddenly unpredictable. Her body felt too-warm and chilled at the same time. Her breath shallowed and quickened, and the back of her neck prickled.

He would be easier to kill if he wasn’t expecting it, and Alex found herself responding on automatic.

“Perhaps I like it,” she purred, and smiled down at him. “But we still have work to do.”

“It can wait,” he said.

One hand landed on her hip-bone and she slammed her fist underneath Blinky’s chin, lifting him off of the ground.

But the troll who landed was not the one she punched. His body shivered, and then Changed.

Bular crouched from where Blinky landed, and loomed over her like an immense shadow.

He gingerly licked the lip Alex had bloodied; her back and her limbs shivered with cold terror. “You have a heavy fist for one so light-handed,” he said.

“What the fuck are you?”

Not-Bular grinned, picking himself up with deadly grace.

“I am not surprised to find that you don’t know me,” he said, an odd Germanic tinge to Bular’s hostile timbre. “We have been unable to locate you, after all.” The Janus Order.

He’s from the Janus Order!

“I wouldn’t expect some idiotic Changelings to have good record-keeping,” Alex muttered, wildly looking around the room for something to help her. If she summoned the armor now he would attack immediately. She had to keep him talking, had to find a way to get him down with minimal damage. Someone who could Change at random could destroy half of Trollmarket if set loose.

“But then I recalled something from a very long time ago,” Not-Bular continued, very slowly beginning to advance across the room. He looked so alien, so utterly out of place in the warm, crowded library. And there was nothing to use as a weapon. She couldn’t armor up, she was getting backed into a corner. Armor or no armor, she couldn’t fight him like this.

“I remembered a little Changeling who always stayed in the back of the meeting, ja? She took her assignments and left, never spoke. I never saw her monströs form, but I remember those eyes, always looking for a way out.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, but this old friend of yours ain’t me,” Alex muttered, scooting as slowly as she could around the end of a table. They were nearing the side wall, and she was running out of space. Her heart thudded at a strange quick pace to her achingly slow feet.

Not-Bular gave a dark, throaty laugh.

“No, you see,” he said, and he started to grin at her. “This freund of mine died many years ago. We always check. But I started to do a little digging and fortunately for me, I have several contacts in the Eastern coastline, and found the hospital records for the day my dear freund died.”

If Alexandra’s breathing got any shallower, she would pass out; her claws dug into the table in front of her but her legs were shaking so much it hardly mattered. Black was seeping into the edges of her eyes and her chest felt too tight, too tight to breathe and she couldn’t move and he kept looming over her, he kept talking and talking and talking and talking about this –

“Cardiopulmonary resuscitation,” Not-Bular said, taking his time to feel the words on his tongue. “Only just beginning to become widespread, but I think it served you well, did it not, Verity?” Alexandra lost her grip on the table and went down, feeling as if she were swimming through deep water. The armor materialized around her body the moment Not-Bular’s fist hit her side, and although she went flying she at least didn’t die. The jarring pain forced her into some of her senses; her whole body shook and she still couldn’t breathe, but at least her shaking hands could hold a sword. Not-Bular advanced as Alexandra tumbled to the ground but she rolled toward him and slashed with sword and claw, catching him on the legs and underarms before she scrambled to her feet and fucking booked it. He roared in fury and stomped after her, narrowly missing her with a giant fist that instead smashed a shelf of books into pieces. Loose leaves and pages flurried around the room and Alexandra got a solid hit to his face in the mess and confusion and Not-Bular went down.

His father rose in his stead.

Gunmar… was terrifying. An immense shadow of power and stone, pulsing with energy and rage, but in the split-second after the moment of sheer panic Alexandra felt only anger.

How dare this asshole invade her home, impersonate the people she was actually trying to trust, bring up ALL HER SHIT and then try and attack her with the scariest troll imaginable? What a fucking dick!

It took two seconds for her to remind herself that although he looked like Gunmar, he wasn’t actually Gunmar, because although he fought with strength and stolen agility, he didn’t have Gunmar’s skill and Alexandra still could wound him, and he bled like any other troll.

Not-Gunmar fell back when she sliced open his chest, and he turned into Draal.

“Trollhunter!” he said, reaching to her with pleading eyes. “Please! You can’t hurt me, can you?” His accent wasn’t quite right – hah! that’s why! – and Alex snarled as she pounced on him.

“YOU WANT TO BET?” she roared, smashing two fists into his fake blue face. She’d dealt with this shit with the wendigo, no thank you, she was not going to deal with it again! Not-Draal tried to slap her away but her claws dug deep into his face, deep into his eyes and his cheeks and he screamed in pain, finally kneeing her in the abdomen and sending her to smack against the ceiling. She came down swinging her sword, and half of a horn was loped off as he ran.

Her fingers burned with energy, melting the stone beneath her claws before she pushed up off of the ground and followed him.

He may have been able to blend in, but his wounds remained on whatever body he took, and Alexandra followed the blood on the ground, splashed against the stalls and the crystals and the trolls he ran into.

Several of the market-goers shouted in alarm at the sight of the Trollhunter fiercely pursuing a bleeding, panicked Draal, but Alexandra ignored the angry yells, jumping on top of a pile of broken televisions. She drove herself forward too forcefully to pay heed to the unstable surfaces beneath her feet, and leapt from the top of the pile, landing on top of Not-Draal’s back hard enough to bruise her unarmored joints. They went down in a graceless heap but Not-Draal still had Draal’s strength, and Alexandra was yanked up as the Changeling scrambled to his feet, Alex still grasping his dorsal crystals. Her shin banged painfully into a fallen tv and she was heavily battered for the first few feet as he ran, but his crystal protrusions offered excellent handholds and she pulled herself up and over his head, grabbing his horns on the way down and throwing him forward into a market stall.

He Changed, and Not-Vendel got up and backhanded her.

One of the trolls in the growing crowd helped brush debris away from Alexandra and it turned her attention briefly to the public watching them. Her breath came in coarse, wet gasps as her chest ached with old forgotten pains; the cries of the crowd seemed to come as if through water to her.

“The Trollhunter is attacking Vendel!” “No, you fool, didn’t you see him change? It’s some sort of trick – “ “It’s a Changeling,” Alex yelled, slashing at Not-Vendel with her sword and two broken poles from the stall. The trolls gasped in horror and yelled in anger, but Alex didn’t have time to listen. Not-Vendel charged her way, throwing his arms around her torso even as she stabbed him in the shoulder, and they hit the ground hard, two fists nearly the size of her face pounding against her head. She bit one as it landed in her teeth and shoved him away, gouging a line across his chest with a broken pole. Not-Vendel stumbled away from her when she tried to claw him again, and this time when he turned, he turned into a human child.

Alexandra paused with her arm raised, even as her eye swelled and her ribs ached; she knew it wasn’t a child, she knew it was a trick, but her sword arm took on a heavier weight than she had ever held before. The tearful, crying not-child jumped of the way just before the sword came down on his head, and then shrank into a troll-child, sobbing and whimpering at her with fear. The crowd watching the fight began to murmur harder, several of them speaking with alarm.

Could she kill something that looked like a kid?! In front of all these people? Would they understand?!

The Changeling knew he had found her weakness, and shrank down once more, although the Change this time seemed harder for him. He was now nothing more than a tiny human baby, naked and blood-streaked on the dirty stone floor. Alexandra’s anger grew, but her sword arm shivered. She was seeing things that she didn’t want to remember, and her anger and disgust was only barely enough to push it back.

Please don’t make me kill a baby. I can’t do this fucking job.

The baby hiccupped and began to cry, looking fearfully at the trolls surrounding it. One of the crowd started forward to pick it up.

“Don’t touch it!” Alex yelled, halting the troll in his tracks. “It’s still a Changeling. It’s still dangerous.”

It’s a fucking baby

She couldn’t sweat like a human could, not in this form, but her skin felt cold and prickly, too tight around her forehead and neck and collar.

The not-baby screamed and its form shivered as Alex’s shaking sword missed the chest and hit the arm, almost slicing the tiny limb right off. Light wavered from the Changeling as it struggled with its form, shifting rapidly like some Lovecraftian demon, fleeing from her in the skin of a middle-aged man, an elderly woman, a rotund male troll.

Blinky – the real Blinky – only just cleared the edge of the crowd when the Changeling pounced on him, partially changing again into Bular as he knocked down the troll and tore at his pockets. Blinky yelped in horror as he hit at the Changeling but the damn thing was already running again, the yellow glow of a horngazel in his hand. Alex ran past Blinky without giving an explanation, leaving him bloody and shocked on the floor.

Blood splashed from the Changeling’s ruined arm as he scrambled through Trollmarket and Alex knew she had to stay on her feet, knew she had to follow, knew she had to either kill him or see him driven out. But he knew. He knew her.

The quaking Changeling was fast despite his injuries, and when he reached the crystal staircase Alexandra nearly screamed in rage, hurtling herself after him. He could hop up the crystals easier than she could and she was sorely tempted to just Change then and there for the advantage of her longer human legs, and screw everybody else; she wanted this bastard dead! A smear of blood made her slip down, aggravating her banged shin again as she landed two crystals down.

She hauled herself up with her arms and launched back up the staircase, hearing gasps of pain and desperation echo across the stone. The Changeling was partially finished with his portal when Alex threw her sword into his back, piercing the hipbone and upper buttock. He went down with a yell and Alex went down with him, bodily tackling him even as he fell. His features expanded, distorted, shifted between a human man’s and her own scarred blue face, and half-formed claws raked at her exposed chin and hands even as her own fingers dug into his skin and burned him with the stench of scorched copper and stone.

He went down slow, and he went down ugly, screaming bloody murder the entire time until Alexandra’s ears rang with a dozen agonized voices, and when he finally stopped moving she could do no more than fall off of his body and shake to pieces on the floor.

   Description: Blinky has Alexandra undergo a grueling training session to both train her to jump on her stubby little legs and in revenge for the prank she played at the end of the last chapter. She and her trainers discuss what to do about the bridge situation and Alexandra is later perplexed and concerned when Blinky and AAARRRGGHH occasionally act out of character, both of them acting flirtatious toward her. She confronts Draal, who is the same as ever, and they set out to find what had Blinky and AAARRRGGHH acting so strange. This comes to a head when Alex corners Blinky and he reveals himself to be a Changeling who can shift into many different forms, fighting Alexandra under the guise of Bular, Gunmar, Draal, and Vendel in efforts to shake her. They fight until he turns himself into a child, stunning Alex into hesitation. She kills him just on the edge of Trollmarket and collapses under the strain of her memories of the Darklands and her younger years. Sorry, Otto.

Bitch do y’all know how difficult it is to write Blinky and AAARRRGGHH out of character and flirting? Without cringing? It’s awful.

Otto didn’t impersonate Draal simply because he couldn’t convincingly imitate Draal’s accent. His polymorph trick gives him the voice, but he’s got to do the accents and personal inflections on his own. He also had more time to watch Blinky and AAARRRGGHH interact and was able to mimic them well enough to not raise suspicion with each other, but Alexandra – being either around and about Trollmarket or off killing a monster, was a bit of an unknown, and when she came back teasing and flirting and being herself, he interpreted that she and those two had more of an intimate friendship than they really do. I’m a little sorry to have killed him off, but Alex needs to both embrace and destroy her own fears and darknesses, and Otto was a representation of a good few of those. Prepare for angst in the next chapter.

I took a lot of this from the chapter in the Trollhunters book where Jim has to kill a Changeling that looks and sounds exactly like a human infant. It was a short but emotionally challenging scene to read, and I hope that this chapter wrenched a few hearts and guts as well.

So there’s what happened, folks. Alex – then Verity – was killed in an accident in the late 1960’s. Her death immediately meant the death of her familiar, but Alex herself was revived by the hospital staff. Her familiar was dead, but she was not, and since she ‘died’ in her human body she kept it – her familiar never left the Darklands, after all (it was eaten, actually). I hc that Changelings stay human-looking if they die like that, otherwise we’d have strange stories about people suddenly turning into monsters upon their deaths.

Also on AO3 and ffn

[journeysintowebcomics]

Worm Liveblog #53

UPDATE 53: Retribution

Last time the Undersiders delivered to Coil the data they got from their mission, and the Slaughterhouse Nine were introduced via exposition, effectively building what may start being the plot of the next arc. Before that there’s still an intermission, though, the next arc will start in the next update. Onwards!

Okay, there are a few things that are clear straight from the very first line. The first is that Regent is the character this will be following, since otherwise the other option would be Shadow Stalker and she already got her turn on the spotlight. The second is that this intermission tells what happened after a certain point last chapter. The third one...

“I’m letting you go,” Regent lied.

...is that this is going to be interesting. A lie, huh. Shadow Stalker isn’t going to be happy about this. But yeah, it’s just like this first line says: Regent lied about having let Shadow Stalker free in that moment. I had thought he had actually done that, to make an example of how easily he could take control over her again, but nope. Everything Shadow Stalker did last chapter after that line was Regent still making her move. I was fooled, let me admit.

I believe he wasn’t lying about how easy it’ll be for him to control her if he’s ever near her, though.

Once the charade is over, Regent makes Shadow Stalker leave through the door, doing just like he had said, ordering her to go to the other side of the city before letting her go. I still wonder how large his radius of action is. It sure must be considerably large, given how he’s taking her to the other side of the city without any trouble, instead of she snapping out of the body control just a few blocks away. No wonder he’s the highest Master classification in Brockton Bay!

Something I really like of these intermission is not only that they allow the reader to see better how a character thinks and how they behave – one of Mr. Wildbow’s greatest strengths as a writer is that he can make each character have their own voice – but also that there’s more insight about how their powers work.

For long minutes, he exercised her power, the ability to be as light as a feather, enjoyed it.  He even liked the running, too, when he turned off her power and just legged it

It seems Regent can feel the puppets to some extent. I don’t mean he shares sensations with them, but it seems to me he can have...some sort of vicarious enjoyment in what they do. Makes me wonder if he has captured other capes before. It’s unlikely, I guess, given how it’d require kidnapping a cape and staying in close-quarters with them for a long while, so maybe he’s more used to doing this with normal civilians.

Fighting had been much the same way, but it had been even better.  Her muscle memory had been so primed for punching, kicking, takedowns and evading that he’d almost been able to let her go on autopilot, let her body handle things on its own.

Not that he could, really.  But it had been easy.  He loved that sort of thing.  Maximum reward for minimum effort.

Ah, he can access her muscle memory too? Like, all he has to do is give some sort of vague direction, he doesn’t have to plan every single of her movements. Convenient! Another advantage of controlling a cape.

Also what a relatable philosophy, hm! He uses it to not stand out, just doing what he wants, when he wants. Staying under the radar, even in the team, is advantageous when he has to deal with his puppets. While the Undersiders are en route to meet Coil, he sits back and focuses on making Shadow Stalker move further away, nobody notices he’s focused on something else. In his opinion, it’s better that way. He likes doing this. This brings forth a memory of the time he was a child, living with a couple of her sisters, his father and some of his father’s ‘girls’.

Hah! He as prone to tantrums, apparently. Even when everyone tried to appease him, he just kept going, until Heartbreaker was forced to come into scene. That wasn’t good for anyone, to say the least.

Father had taken two or three seconds to assess the situation before using his power on Alec, his two sisters and the ‘girl’ with a hand over Alec’s mouth.  He hit each of them with stark terror.  The kind of fear you experienced when you were claustrophobic and you woke up in a coffin six feet underground.

Charming. Quite the way to get them to be quiet...and it doesn’t sound like it happened only once or twice, given how Regent wonders if Heartbreaker doing this may have influenced his actual behavior.

That was only one of a dozen or so experiences that came to mind.  So yeah, maybe father had broken something in the process. Maybe it had been the emotional equivalent of staring into the sun for far too long, too many times, being left almost half blind.

...maybe? It’s possible it may have influenced, yeah. I also wouldn’t be surprised it’s also a side effect of Regent’s power. True, he may not have had a trigger event, given how he was the son of a parahuman, but it’s possible his power may have made it easier for him to make use of it, like slowly conditioning him and making him able to use the power to its maximum extent. Look, Regent was surrounded by so many factors that may have contributed to how he is now, it’s hard to blame a single one!

And now he says maybe it’s his power what made him like this. It’s always nice to see when my thoughts are echoed, makes me feel like I’m going in the right direction.

It doesn’t take long to get far away. Regent enjoys the sensation of controlling another person, basking in all of Shadow Stalker’s feelings. Unlike him, her emotions aren’t dulled at all. Yeah, that may be a reason why he likes so much to control other people. He can experience what he can’t experience so well by himself.

“Funny thing about having this control over you, I can feel your emotions, your body’s reactions.  Like a really, really good polygraph test.  I wasn’t even half done saying my piece back there when I caught on to the fact that you were too pissed and too angry to back down and walk away. There’s no way you’re going to leave town if I let you go, right?”

...in hindsight I took at face value that nod. I should have known someone as defiant as Shadow Stalker wouldn’t simply leave the town just because of what happened. She’d be hellbent in vengeance. Why did I take that nod at face value? I’m not sure, honestly...

Since he has nothing better to do right now and the rest will have stuff to deal with, Regent decides to have some fun flexing his power, and he does that by throwing Shadow Stalker’s stuff to the trash and committing some privacy breeches. He’s no Tattletale, but he can find out the password to Shadow Stalker’s phones by using muscle memory. One is the Ward-issued cellphone, which has the contacts stored. I bet it has excellent protection, even against tinkers. The other is her personal phone.

Browsing through the sent messages is a tedious task, so he goes for the saved messages. It confirms to him who Shadow Stalker is – since Taylor accidentally mentioned the names of two of her bullies, it seems. The message that confirms it, well...hm...let’s say it still feels rather uncomfortable to read plans to bully someone, especially when they’re written so flippantly.

Long seconds passed.  He knew he should feel bad for the dork, but he only felt annoyed.  He felt worse about the fact that he didn’t feel bad than he did about what he’d just read.

Something to thank father for, maybe.

...at least he felt something. Of course this something isn’t really directed towards Skitter, since it’s nothing like sympathy or the such, but since the concept of right and wrong didn’t rely on his emotions, he seems to be able to decide to...punish Shadow Stalker for her bullying campaign. She’s not taking it well, seeing Regent calmly getting ready to send the incriminating proof to the teachers of the school.  Eeeeh...can’t say I have much faith in them doing anything about that, after how things went in that meeting many arcs ago. Maybe he’d get better results sending them to Director Piggot as well, who knows. Give her some more headaches to deal with.

Oh, nevermind, she’s adding the police force to the email recipient list.

When he’d added that email to the list, he added another line:

contacting police to make sure something is done

In a way that’s kind of a brilliant move. These messages are about Sophia Hess, not about Shadow Stalker. Civilian identities are something the heroes need to be careful with, trying to not reveal anything to anyone who shouldn’t know. If Piggot tries to make some damage control regarding PR, she’d pretty much giving away what Shadow Stalker’s civilian identity is, as well as what kind of stuff she does at school. That’s going to be difficult to twist with PR. Even if there are people in the police force who already know about Shadow Stalker’s civilian identity, that doesn’t guarantee they’d cooperate to bury this situation away.

All in all, either something actually happens and Sophia Hess receives some retribution, or Director Piggot has to spend many, many hours dealing with this major mess. Either way she’s not going to be happy at all with Shadow Stalker. How much longer will it be before she decides it’s not worth it to have her around?

Once the messages were sent, Regent makes Shadow Stalker go around, walking on precarious railings and calling Emma at 3 AM. Hah! She asked to be called later, yep, but not at three in the morning, that’s for sure!

Well...Regent isn’t really very good at imitating Shadow Stalker, but that’s not important. She’s annoying Emma a lot, there’s some satisfaction to be had in that. And theeeeen he makes her confess her love to Emma. Well alright then! If there were any doubts in Emma’s mind that something was up with Shadow Stalker, this will dispel them. Not that it matters much, after all, what can Emma do about anything? She’s somewhere else, and she’s just some random civilian. In the big scheme of things, she’s a largely unimportant character.

Emma didn’t believe not even a single word of that love confession. Figures. What’s next, Regent? He hasn’t gotten fed up of messing with Shadow Stalker’s life yet. He takes out the map application of the smartphone and studies the last request for directions Shadow Stalker did.

...

He’s going to do something at her home now, isn’t he? He sure is being thorough in this methodical dismantling of Shadow Stalker’s life. Her work as a reluctant Ward had been ruined already, and now he’s ruining everything about her civilian identity. That’s rather messed up, definitely.

But who knows if he’ll actually be able to do anything. The further away he is, the harder it’s for him to keep Shadow Stalker moving. She’s already moving sluggishly; it may be matter of time before she recovers all control over her body. Oh, nevermind, they got closer later. Shadow Stalker won’t ever know it, thankfully.

These people are awake at three in the morning, huh. Waiting for Sophia to arrive, perhaps? The young man who saw Shadow Stalker first seems to be unable to believe what he’s seeing, while the woman who’s likely to be Sophia’s mother reacts with...that behavior parents do when they want to talk something they don’t want their kids to hear.

“Chill, bro,” Regent was making a guess here. From the way the boy stared at Shadow Stalker, he knew he’d hit the mark.

“Sophia!?”

“Yeah,” Regent grinned behind her mask.  “Duh, moron.”

She has been keeping her hero identity as a secret from her family! Or at least from everyone who isn’t the mother. Now that I think about it, that makes sense. It’s not like the Wards surreptitiously induct people into the group. Kid Win had talked with that budding spy while the spy’s mother was present. Sophia’s mom must have known about the hero job.

There was a flurry of hissed words between Terry and Shadow Stalker’s mother.  Among them was a surprised, hurt, “You knew!?”

Hm. While I still feel some retribution towards Sophia’s action was deserved, this is starting to get other people involved and therefore it’s starting to go rather far. Emma was one thing, because she was directly into the bullying plans. This family, well...I doubt they had anything to do with all the poisonous mess Sophia is. Things are going to be very awkward for this family for a while.

This truly illustrates how someone like Regent having the ability to control other people’s bodies is a rather fearsome thing.

You know, I can’t tell if Sophia would behave so dismissively towards her mother. Apparently yes, since the mom isn’t realizing something is off about Sophia’s nonchalant behavior. The woman gets angrier with each flippant line, and even more when Sophia yawns. Wow, Regent really knows how to piss people off.

“It’s the rules in my house!  If it’s going to keep you out of prison and on the straight and narrow, fine.  But I will not have you glorifying violence-”

Hoh, nothing kept her on the straight and narrow at all. But yeah, looks like this explains why only the mother knew about Sophia’s hero role. She doesn’t approve any of this at all, and I have a hunch Sophia’s extreme vigilantism from before she joined the Wards can’t have helped to earn her support.

It must be horrible to watch someone else make you dig your metaphorical grave deeper and deeper. Showing the lethal arrows to the woman who disapproves of violence in the first place isn’t going to convince her she’s on the straight and narrow. The mom is appropriately horrified, and demands to know what’s going on – with her violent behavior, that is, not what’s happening right now.

“You do not have the right to complain about something like being bored!  I work two jobs for you three!  I put in overtime, I attend every school function, I come into the office every time you get reprimanded because you’ve got anger issues! You aren’t even taking care of your sister, or helping out around this house!  What do you think-”

What she does goes beyond anger issues, that’s for sure. But yeah, I feel a lot of sympathy for Sophia’s family, frankly. They didn’t ask for any of this to happen, and their lives were already hard enough before this night. I hope they will be alright.

Shadow Stalker stood at Regent’s directions, then pointed the crossbow at the mother. The woman’s eyes widened, and she hurried to back away as Shadow Stalker advanced.  They stopped when the mother’s back was to the wall by the kitchen door, with Shadow Stalker’s crossbow bolt pressed against her throat.

My sympathy is increasing exponentially. I don’t have children, and it’d be extremely hard to imagine how it must feel to be in this situation, but...having your kid pretty much threatening to kill you must be awful, to say the very, very least. Is this something she and Sophia can leave behind? ...who knows. I have a hard time believing they will. It’s simply too big of a shock to just...talk over.

Once Regent is done terrorizing Shadow Stalker’s mother, he makes Shadow Stalker go to her room, ignoring the brother who just found out his sister is a messed up hero. Sophia’s room is rather normal, with the usual furniture and many photos on the wall. Most are of Emma and Sophia. There’s also a photo of Sophia’s family.

He found a picture of Shadow Stalker – Sophia – with her family.  Her mom looked younger and far less tired there, and was pregnant. Shadow Stalker looked twelve or so, and her brother looked sixteen or seventeen, sporting a fantastic looking afro and a less fantastic attempt at a moustache.  They were clustered around one another, but only the mom was smiling.

I don’t know, in my opinion Shadow Stalker keeping that picture pinned there with all the rest says a lot, even if she’s not exactly happy in the photo. There’s also the fear and anger Sophia felt when Regent made her enter the house with the costume on. I think she does care a lot about her family, despite how she’s like.

Could it be that Sophia’s father leaving is related to her trigger event? Like, he leaving caused it, due to the stress and hatred she must have felt back then? There’s not really any detail about what happened back then. What’s for sure is that whatever happened with him, and he leaving, really took a toll on the mother.

Regent makes her burn Emma’s face off a couple photos, and reveals he has been dismantling Sophia’s life with a goal in mind. He’s...

...he’s making her write a suicide note. Wow. I don’t feel nearly confident about how to treat this. Seriously messed up, that’s for sure. Regent’s going rather far. I’m not sure if I should have imagined this’d happen. Then again, Rachel and he are the two that’s said to have killed before. Maybe that’s not why I feel surprised this is happening, or surprised about how cold Regent can be while doing this. The fact he’s a villain also makes it less shocking. None of that makes all this be any better, of course, but yeah.

“Here’s the thousand dollar question,” he mused, as he began following the steps outlined in the video, putting the knot together, “Will your boss tell your mom what happened with me controlling you?  If she keeps her mouth shut, well, this paints a pretty ugly picture, doesn’t it?”

For some reason, I keep trying to think about how Emma would react, since that call was a love confession and all. I simply can’t imagine how she’d react. After how she left Taylor behind, I just can’t envision her having an emphatic response to anything, even though she clearly isn’t unfeeling.

“But if she does tell, if she lets mommy know, then shit hits the fan.  It looks pretty fucking bad for her, and if word gets out, it’s as bad as it gets for public relations.  Scary, dangerous parahumans.  Not just lives at risk, but you could be controlled.  Ooooh, scary.  Nobody would ever be able to trust their coworkers or neighbors.  It’s the kind of stuff they want to keep quiet.”

You mean nobody in this city has ever imagined there may be a parahuman with the ability to control minds or bodies? Parahumans have all kinds of abilities, and the heroes are rather good examples of some of them. Has nobody in this city ever thought that, hey, there may be someone who can use you as a puppet, better hope it’s not a madman? I guess just imagining is fine, confirming there’s one in Brockton Bay would be the part that’d terrify everyone.

I never thought I’d be feeling anything resembling sympathy towards Sophia Hess, but there it is.

Regent gives Sophia enough control to say stuff, and of course the first thing she asks is why he’s doing this. He outright says it’s because of what she has done to his teammate, and thankfully she doesn’t make any connection to Taylor, she immediately thinks of Grue. That’s a bit of a relief...

“I dunno if I care all that much, but it’s the sort of thing I’ll do because it feels like I should.  Dunno. There’s also the fact that you’re dangerous, and you’ve outlived your usefulness, so… unless you can give me a convincing reason.”

“Please.”

“Not that convincing.”  He raised one foot, then kicked the chair, hard.

It rocked, but didn’t tip over.

He chuckled lightly, feeling the confusion and the relief from his host.  It was a thrill unlike any other.  “I think I made my point.”

I hadn’t realized I had been holding my breath with trepidation until now. True, I despise Shadow Stalker and all, but I can’t say I ever wished for her death. She’s, well, she’s not going to be okay, but at least she will live. That’s always a relief.

Regent is right, now Shadow Stalker has even less of a reason to stay in Brockton Bay, now that her life was completely destroyed, both in her hero identity and in her civilian identity. There’s also Regent’s threat about taking control over her again.

“I can feel your emotions.  I know I’ve convinced you.  You leave town, and if you don’t want me paying a visit, wherever you wind up, you keep your mouth closed about tonight.  They don’t need to know this was all my doing.  Things get messy that way, yeah?”

The more I read, the more it feels like this really may be Shadow Stalker’s last appearance. She has been convinced about leaving the city, she’s terrified...all in all, she’s not in condition to be an enemy to the Undersiders anymore. I can’t see how she can be integrated back into the story now. Quite a way to end her role in this story, if this really is the last time she appears. Well then...

This is pretty much how the intermission ends. I can’t think of anything else to say. Quite the shock, honestly. Mr. Wildbow doesn’t pull any punches in his writing. I feel a bit exhausted, for many reasons. All in all...wow. Yeah. That sure happened.

So! Next time the next arc will start. See you then!

Next update: in seven updates

[fairytail-whathesays]

After a number of big shonen suffered from a bad war arc, what do you think is the key to a good final war arc?

I will, for this set of points, be using the examples of Mashima (Fairy Tail), Kubo (Bleach), and Isayama (Attack on Titan). There are seven points I’d like to make. 

1. Don’t build up hype if you can’t keep it going.

I’m talking more to Mashima than to Kubo, because from what I understand hype failure is not one of the Thousand Year Blood War arc’s failings. Because Mashima gave not a single shit as to how the Spriggans were actually going to get defeated with the exceptions of Ajeel, DiMaria and Jacob, it does a disservice to the hype the Spriggans were dealt. Rather than thinking Fairy Tail has gotten so much stronger or has scraped a win, it just looks like the Spriggans weren’t as powerful as we were led to believe. Sabertooth similarly suffered that same thing.

2. Use less, not more.

Both Kubo and Mashima need to hear this. Mashima suffered a bad escalation when it comes to powerful villains: he started with six, moved up to seven, then moved up to nine, settled down to five for a bit, and then jumped back up to twelve. And of those twelve, Bloodman’s gimmick literally was just having Tartaros’ powers, Invel was Yet Another Ice Dude, God Serena was Yet Another Fucking Dragonslayer, Neinhart’s power was exposing people to enemies they’d already fought–and won against–August had Power Copying, the most unoriginal power ever, and Irene Belserion’s powers were so nebulously defined it was stupid. Ajeel doesn’t get points either. Kubo was even worse, introducing a new villain and power for every letter of the Latin alphabet, but somehow he managed to make them all interesting, so he gets to slide on this one.

3. If you’re going to have a war arc at all, you need to have knowledge of strategy.

This isn’t optional. Wars that are won by a single overwhelming strike by the hero aren’t wars. In a war arc, I expect to see heroes and villains alike flexing more than their muscles, they need to be flexing their brainpower, too. Instead of going with incredibly overpowered powers, try going with creative uses of more mundane powers.

For example: In Attack on Titan (whose big war arc suffers for entirely different reasons, as Isayama has a moderately good grasp on strategy), Zeke has a very powerful 17-meter Titan that could crush a typical human flat. However, instead of just charging over, he instead throws rocks. It’s mundane, but it’s used to deadly effect: he grinds enormous boulders into smaller pieces and throws them hard enough to break the sound barrier, annihilating entire troops with one throw and reducing the human army to a mass of blood and bones vaguely resembling corpses in seconds. He takes out Erwin this way. This all was part of a much larger strategy on the part of the Titans in which, had Isayama actually played by his own rules and allowed any semblance of realism in, would’ve resulted in a complete loss on the part of the heroes.

4. No “hidden potential” or “unlocks”.

Kubo had this problem–mostly because bankai was his usual “big reveal” for heroic powers, but he revealed Renji’s and Ichigo’s too early, resulting in them not being enough to handle later threats the way unrevealed bankai could. So he basically had to “re-unlock” them and give them new bankai by explaining that no, this wasn’t their real bankai, their zanpakuto had kept their real bankai hidden from them because they weren’t ready”. No. You undermine your threat that way. In doing that, you make it look like your heroes always had the power to beat their opponents, they were just being held back. That doesn’t do your plot or threat any favors. Isayama had this problem with “the Coordinate”.

This tends to be the go-to of authors who write themselves into a corner, unless you’re Mashima, in which case you just plow through the corners by literally making shit up on the spot.

5. Deaths need to mean something

In a war arc, people are expected to die. That means that people on both sides need to die, including the heroes. Mashima, Kubo, and Isayama have all failed at this for different reasons, and completely ruined the impact or meaning of the deaths they gave their characters,

Mashima, quite obviously, pulled fakeout after fakeout after fakeout and has yet to kill off a single character we care about. He can quit trying now, because we know he doesn’t have the balls to actually kill off characters. We’ll never trust a “death” again.

Kubo gave us the completely meaningless and pointless death of Retsu Unohana. Unohana is put into a life-or-death fight with Kenpachi Zaraki in order to train him properly (aka hype him up, as if Kenpachi needed any more of that bullshit), because as it turns out, she’s the original Kenpachi and skilled enough with a sword to slaughter him easily multiple times over. Each time she deals him fatal damage, she quickly heals him so that the training can continue. So, if this was happening, why was she not allowed to heal herself when Kenpachi finally struck her down? Retsu was the superior warrior, meaning she was a valuable asset on the battlefield, more valuable than Kenpachi by a long shot because in addition to having sword skills to put him to shame, she’s a master at kido of all kinds and is the most accomplished healer in Soul Society history. Getting rid of her is the stupidest thing Kyoraku could’ve done–he basically fucked over his whole side. And why was this done? Because Kubo loved Kenpachi Zaraki too damn much. More on that later. Unohana died for manpain at best.

Isayama gave us the tragic, heart-wrenching sacrifice of Armin Arlert. After two chapters (meaning two months irl) of dangerous buildup, Armin finally sacrifices himself in a fatal ploy to distract the Colossal Titan so that Eren can cut its controller out of it. He’s giving up his lifelong dream–seeing the ocean, a dream that he fueled all of his ambitions and his participation in the war on–and entrusting it to Eren. Armin knows his death is necessary for humanity’s win, and he understands that sacrifices are necessary, and he’s no exception. If his dream and his life have to be sacrificed, so be it. Armin launches himself at the Colossal Titan, latching on and refusing to let go even as he’s steam-blasted with enough heat to sear the skin off his flesh and melt his eyes out. It’s not pretty at all. And you know what? It works. Thanks to Armin’s plan and his death, the Colossal Titan goes down. Just kidding. This was all a pointless ploy to give the heroes yet another power on their side they didn’t need. That’s what the entire war arc was, really. You see, Armin survives not only getting his flesh melted off, but falling 50 meters with no working gear to stop his fall, and remains alive long enough for the heroes to have an extended argument and fight over whether he should get the serum or Erwin, and he gets it, and chows down on Bertholdt, saving his own life at the expense of the biggest icon of the series and the one described as the God of the SNK world by its author. In doing so, not only did he alienate me and prove he ultimately cared only for the heroes of his story’s success, but he made the sacrifice Armin was doing–which was far more meaningful and powerful than the one performed by Erwin (and a lot less survivable than the hole in Erwin’s stomch) completely and utterly meaningless. We were led on and lied to, and it did a disservice to the war arc as a whole.

6. Destroy or put aside whatever love you have for your favorite characters.

Having not quite gotten to the war arc, I don’t have a big rant already written for this part of Bleach. But I will say quite plainly that I know it applies to Bleach, and I know exactly how it applies as well.

With Fairy Tail, you have Erza. With Attack on Titan, you have Levi. With Bleach, you have Kenpachi Zaraki. That is to say, each of these manga has an extremely overhyped, overpowered person on the heroes’ side whose prowess (with a blade, especially) is legendary and whose power and skill is not realistic at all by any standard within the ramifications of the story, whose combat record far surpasses any actual ability they should have. These characters are the ones the story (meaning, the author) goes out of their way to hype up because they’re just so badass, when the actual abilities they are gifted with should not be nearly enough to keep them from getting crushed. What I’m saying is, it’s author favoritism and it’s annoying as fuck. 

Erza Scarlet is a woman with hundreds of magical armors with different effects who is very good with a sword. What does this mean against an opponent who is exponentially stronger than she is, enough to rearrange the entire continent in minutes, who can transfigure and transform whatever she wants? It means her opponent commits suicide, but not before some plagiarism takes place and Erza shatters a meteor with all her bones broken.

Levi Ackerman is a man with a unique gene that makes him a beast in combat, but does not turn him into a superhuman, and he flies around in wire-cable gear propelled by gas tanks. What does this mean against someone who does have superhuman powers, and is currently in the form of a 17-meter Titan described as insurmountable by someone who knows both his skills and Levi’s? Who has been built up as his counterpart? It means Levi thrashes him in the space of a few panels before he can even fight back.

Kenpachi Zaraki is a man with potent skill with a sword and a huge amount of spiritual pressure. And literally nothing but that. While all the other captains have speed, magic, deadly shikai and bankai abilities, and skill with a sword and monstrous spiritual pressure, Kenpachi has nothing but his presence and his sword. In other words, he’s the weakest captain–and the battle data backs that up. His shikai and bankai, when he finally gets them, just give his cutting abilities massive upgrades. What does this mean against an opponent whose power is imagination and can create literally anything, including other living beings, multiplying himself, and altering reality on a level Rustyrose could only dream of? It means his opponent has a pretty shitty imagination, really, considering what beats him is that he “cannot imagine something that [I] cannot cut”. I thought of three things Kenpachi Zaraki couldn’t cut in less than as many seconds. Yes, Kenpachi beats what is basically God Himself because said God couldn’t think “I should drown him or roast him alive”.

And all this, because Mashima, Isayama, and Kubo couldn’t control their damn boners for characters that were essentially creator’s pets when it came down to it. And it makes it fucking suck. The realistic stack of abilities is what makes wars so interesting, and violating it all in order to hype up your favorite characters ruins the entire thing. I cannot tell you how many stories–not even just war arcs, manga in general–have been utterly ruined because seemingly accomplished authors loved one or two characters too fucking much and shoved them to the fore in every arc. 

7. Don’t rip off your entire arc from another author.

Talking directly to Hiro Mashima, here. Everything of substance from the Alvarez Empire arc has basically been ripped from Kubo’s Thousand Year Blood War arc, but on top of being plagiarized, it was plagiarized by a shitty author who wouldn’t know good writing if it hit him in the ass. I can see everything you did, Mashima.

I’m currently compiling an entire post listing everything Mashima blatantly ripped off from Kubo. While Kubo isn’t perfect, his work deserves better admirers than the likes of this shitty thieving unoriginal hack.