#partial edit check replies because interesting <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[ravs6709]

Because I've seen people ask about their real names multiple times now, I'm now wondering if the names we have in tbhx (Chinese, such as xiao yueqing, po huai wang), are the real names? Cause the public refers to moon by xiao yueqing, but that's a whole full name..?

[urlneverheardofit]

The Black Prince and the White Lion

I’m realizing I’ve never actually posted any of my work to this website and figured I should, so here’s a little excerpt from my latest piece. Note the most intense this portion gets is sex jokes,’the talk”(tm) Dragon edition, and a make-out session sooo yeah.

Chapter 1: The Black Prince

The Black Prince. Such an honorable title for such a hated position.

Dragon,

Son of a mad king,

Last of his kind.

The Black Prince had a lot stacked against him when it came to his reputation, even more so because of the madness and corruption that ran in his blood.

Still, Wrathion did his best to alleviate the concerns of his other draconic kin. After all, Neltharion was not the only dragon aspect to go mad. Malygos too followed in that path, the madness manifested differently but the Nexus War was plenty of evidence to be a testament to Malygos' fall. As well as the Aspect of Time, who had gone mad in an alternate timeline. The Earth Warder, The Spell Weaver, and The Infinite all fallen to the insanity of one kind or another.

Yet all the other dragon aspects. Hell, the entirety of Azeroth, looked at him with disdain, anger, and even fear in some cases. When Wrathion had been younger, many citizens in the major cities of Stormwind and Orgrimmar had approached him, demanding compensation for the loss of their loved ones or personal effects lost in the attack on both major cities. The attacks carried out by Deathwing. Not Wrathion.

It was a relief for him that after the death of his father, the world moved on. The mystical lands of Pandaria had been rediscovered and Wrathion had swiftly moved from his makeshift lair in Onyxia’s former lair. He hadn’t hated that place as much as he had hated Nefarian’s lair.

Nefarian’s Lair had been a place where dragons had been experimented on to create abominations to further Nefarian’s plans.

The worst part was Nefarian was Wrathion’s half-brother. United by the blood of their father, who was worse than the horrible experimenter that was Nefarian. Onyxia, the brood mother, had been bad too, helping hatch the armies that later became Deathwing’s servants. His half-siblings had chosen their lairs well. The Black Dragonflight had once been noble protectors of Azeroth and their choices in lair reflected such. Neltharion had a cave deep underground somewhere on a lost island that had served as his lair for many thousands of years. Nefarian had chosen a castle fortress carved into the side of a mountain. Onyxia had chosen a cave that spiraled down for miles and miles and whose mouth was shaped like a dragon’s toothy maw.

Wrathion, on the other hand, had not yet chosen a lair, partially because he was unsure if he would grow to be the size of his father, whose wingspan had reached more than 1,000 feet long, or if he would stop about the size Onyxia and Netharion had. That would end up helping determine Wrathion’s lair, along with the fact Wrathion had not found a good lair yet. He was still traveling and learning what he could from his sibling's lairs. Many of Nefarian’s notes and discoveries could help turn the tides against any coming threats to Azeroth, but the execution was questionable at best. Some of his studies were more interested in the differences between the dragon flights. What gave them power and such, which were much more readily useful.

Onyxia’s lair served as a place for him to learn to transform back and forth from humanoid to dragon form. It was a long and painful process at first but eventually, he learned to make his humanoid form look a little more grown than his whelp form.

Though perhaps he could see why people could be a bit intimidated, he wasn't them! It wasn't fair to judge him for the crimes of his crazed kin.

His dragon form was just a whelp still, he couldn’t lie in his true form the way he could in his humanoid. His humanoid form looked like a young male human with glowing red eyes, long curly black hair, and olive skin.

“Wrathion?” A voice said from the entrance of the tavern in Pandaria that Wrathion had taken up residence in. Wrathion jolted up from where he had been reclining before, lost in thought. An orcish woman stood in the entryway, blocking out the sunlight and whoever was behind her. He could sense their movement hear their hushed voices.

“What is it Left?” He asked calmly, Left was one of his devoted bodyguards. Left was her spy name, only Wrathion knew her identity due to security concerns. Right was his other, a human woman who was gifted in the finer manipulation of tactics and war. A true spy compared to Left’s more being an obvious bodyguard.

The tavern he had taken up residence in was a small two-story building tucked away in a nearly untravelable mountain pass, keeping it hidden and mostly safe. Part of the reason why Wrathion had chosen this place to begin with.

“Someone of high importance wishes to speak with you,” Left answered.

“Me?” Wrathion cocked his head innocently. “Send them in.”

Wrathion’s confidence fell away instantly when Left stood aside revealing the King of Stormwind standing at his door.

Chapter 2: The White Lion

This was all that was left of the horrific Deathwing? Anduin peered past the shadow of his father to look at the alleged "Black Prince" and found himself quite surprised at what he found; a boy just barely younger than him staring back at him.

"The infamous Black Prince." Anduin's father began, crossing his arms over his chest.

The boy looked up at the King, his red eyes betraying none of the his thoughts. "Black Emperor now. Thanks only to the Champions of the Alliance who were responsible for the death of my father." The boy spoke plainly, eloquently and as though he was raised among royalty, not by dragons or wolves or whatever else Anduin had imagined him growing up with.

"Are you saying you'd rather that monster was still alive today?" Varian snarled.

"Of course not." The boy looked at his long black claw-like nails, brushing them off idly. "But think of it this way, I am the Emperor of my kind and I'm not any older than the little lion cowering behind you."

Anduin flinched from being called out like that. He spoke much the way that Onyxia had many years before. Nearly the same tone of voice and mannerisms but not quite intimidating enough to pull it off entirely.

"He's what I've come to speak to you about." Varian sighed glancing at Genn Greymane, king of the Worgen, who had once been humans but now were more akin to the werewolves of legend. Graymane shrugged.

"Then speak." The boy ordered.

"Anduin here has been badly injured and is being hunted by members of the Horde. I wish to leave him in the safety of a dragon's lair." The Horde and the Allliance had been at war for generations. The Horde consisted of Orcs and Trolls and other races considered to be more ‘savage’. The Alliance was majorly humans, elves and the worgen.

The boy scoffed. "This is not my lair. My lair is far from here." Anduin thought that this was a lie but didn’t quite know why.

"Well, I need him to be somewhere safe, where he won't be found unless I come back for him."

"Yet a simple human King has found me without trouble." The boy replied evenly.

"I have..." another glance was swapped between Genn and Varian. "Very good help."

"Clearly." The dragon huffed, sending smoke curling from under his lips. "And what would I get for doing you this favor?"

Varian straightened at that. Anduin knew Varian thought he was gaining some ground. "You would earn the favor of the Alliance. Or perhaps if you'd rather. We have up to a million gold we'd be willing to part with in exchange for his guaranteed health and safety."

The dragon's red eyes glinted greedily as he considered. "I want the Favor of the Alliance and a half of that gold." He replied after a moment's thought.

"Very well." Varian nodded.

"Are you crazy?" Genn barked beside Varian. "You're basically selling your son to a dragon!"

"I cannot risk him being killed by Garrosh. You'd do the same if it was Tess."

Genn snarled but backed away, allowing his king to do as he wished. Anduin couldn't help but look up at his father concerned. He had talked with Varian about this before and had agreed to it but now that it was actually happening, anxiety twitched in the pit of his stomach. "I agree to your terms dragon. The gold will be delivered to you in payments of 5,000 a week in exchange for a letter from Anduin, and I will check, with details about how he is holding up."

"and if this stay extends longer than that allotted time?"

"We can compensate for your time."

The dragon regarded Varian carefully. "Deal." The dragon said and his eyes gleamed almost as bright as the sun and Varian hissed and stumbled away from the threshold to the quaint tavern. Despite seeming like he was in pain Varian grinned.

"Dad?" Anduin asked from behind him. "Are you okay?"

"Yes." Varian smiled down at his son. "That's exactly what I hoped would happen."

"What are you on about?" Genn asked.

"A black dragon cannot go back on a promise made that way." Varian turned to Anduin, "you will be safe here."

"Promise?"

Varian set a hand on Anduin's shoulder, "I promise."

Chapter 3: Introductions

What the hells did I just agree to?? Wrathion scolded himself. Dragons were well known for their desire for large hoards and he had not realized how quickly it would come over him at the mention of a million gold. Thankfully, he had been at least coherent enough to take the favor of one of the world's major factions... but stupid enough to make it a pact. By the titans he wanted that gold. Not because he needed it but bec ause a dragon, especially a little one, would age faster in the presence of vast amounts of wealth, so it would fix a lot of his issues.

But what is done is done, and Wrathion now had to figure out what he was going to do with the lion's cub. He watched silently as the High King and his werewolf companion said goodbye to the lion cub, wishing him safety and so on. Eventually the High King urged his son to meet his host but wanted to stay behind just long enough to watch, make sure he had made the right choice.

The lion cub stood in the threshold of the inn where his father had been previously, yet he was much smaller than his father. Both in character and in body, he lacked the confidence and skill to be able to back himself up. He took one last nervous glance at Varian before he took a deep breath and faced Wrathion. "Son of Neltharion, I am honored you have agreed to help us in these trying times." The cub went to kneel before the dragon but he winced in pain and couldn't quite get one of his legs to work with him.

"Son of Neltharion..." Wrathion gave the boy a strange look, "did you know that or did you rehearse it?"

"I knew Deathwing's original name." The boy said proudly. "Many have forgotten it, but the Light has not forgotten what he once was."

"You're a priest."

"Yes." The boy winced again.

"Stop hurting yourself. Stand and tell me your name." Wrathion ordered, lounging his elbows back on the table which he had been sitting by and had turned around from to listen to Left.

The boy swallowed and stood shakily, another wince but once he got there, he was okay it seemed. "My name is Anduin Llane Wrynn." The boy said "May I ask yours?"

Wrathion tilted his head, no one had really asked him to introduce himself, many had just learned his name because of him addressing himself or whatnot. "Why do you wish to know, Anduin?"

Anduin swallowed and looked back to see what his father was thinking but the King and his werewolf, were gone. With a steadying breath, he answered, "I suspect you do not wish to live in your father's shadow. It is only polite to respect this wish as I do not wish to have my father's influence overshadow my own choices."

No wonder the kid had been hesitant to say that. Clearly the King loved his cub but then he was royalty. Anduin's path was paved largely by his father.

"My name is Wrathion, thank you, for taking into account what I wish to forget about my history." Wrathion was stunned almost out of feeling, this was a first, someone else asking him to be who he was without judgment of his father's actions. But he was grateful for this.

"Of course, Wrathion." The boy replied, he had a shaggy mane of blonde hair, bright blue eyes and wore gold and blue clothing that looked almost like armor without being armor. "What brings a mighty dragon to Pandaria?"

"I could ask you the same question," Wrathion replied.

"My father, he wishes to protect Pandaria from the savage influence of the Horde, from my understanding." Anduin explained, "your turn."

Wrathion smirked at that, "My turn? I am here to learn the secrets it has to offer. I am still young and I wish to expand my knowledge." It was not a lie per say, just part of the truth, much like Anduin’s had been.

"A noble pursuit." Anduin nodded. "If I may I would like to accompany you to some of these exploits it is my duty as the future king to know as much as I can before assuming the throne."

"Very well." Wrathion agreed. It would give him something to do with the kid. "Come and sit, let us play a game of Jihui. We have much to learn of each other."

Chapter 4: Cow Tipping and Stargazing

Anduin was nearly sixteen when the bell hit him. Everyone had thought he would never live to see through his first whole year of adulthood. Anduin, thank the Light, pulled through, and now all that there was to remind him of the incident was a birthday and bad leg that worked, to some extent, but sometimes if he tried to do more than walk with it, it wouldn't work or would be painful to work with. So taking a knee in front of the dragon as his father had instructed, had been difficult and the dragon had caught on.

"Are you alright?" Wrathion had asked when Anduin hesitantly took a seat across from him, relieved when no pain came.

"Yes, I am alright now," Anduin replied "it was an accident-" Anduin really meant attack but no need to stress the dragon out this quickly into their arrangement. "I am fully healed now, this leg just doesn't work with me sometimes."

"Your father knows about it?"

"Yes."

Wrathion nodded, his ears perked back up from where they were subtly flattened to his head, "Very well, if you need assistance with anything, let me or my guards know."

"What are their names?" Anduin asked looking at the women flanking the dragon, they were beautiful, no doubt, but they didn't really strike Anduin the way some people did.

"This is Left." Warthion signaled to the woman on his left, she was an Orcish woman with long tusks and a huge crossbow and what looked like a scimitar attached to her belt. "And this is Right." Wrathion jerked a thumb at the woman on his right, a human woman with similar gear.

"Simple enough."

"Indeed." Wrathion gave him a toothy, almost unnerving grin and thus the game of Jihui began.

Several hours of this game passed, it was quite the learning curve, and more so to try and match Wrathion move for move, but eventually, Anduin figured out some tricks to get Wrathion to feel a little too overconfident and overstep himself.

After a game, Wrathion pushed away from the table (or rather, pushed the table away from him), stretched and said: "let's go do something."

"Like...what?" Anduin replied shuffling out from under the table as well and working some cramps out of his back. He had been having fun but it was time for a break, for his... well everything's sake.

Wrathion gave him an evil smile. "We're going to go do something you've never done before." He announced proudly.

"The... future? Aren't you a Black dragon, not a Bronze?" Anduin replied sarcastically, that wasn't that specific.

Wrathion rolled his eyes, "No, somewhere in present-day I think." Wrathion looked him over a long second, "Your outfit is terrible and horribly recognizable, let's get you something... proper."

Anduin thought about being offended but then, he never much liked this outfit either and he was talking to a dragon, who were known for their fashion sense. Well, Black Dragons maybe not so much but he'd seen portraits of Ysera and Alexstraza.

Wrathion nearly seemed to fly up the stairs located in the northern corner with how fast he moved. Anduin followed at a much slower hobble, stairs had always been hard on the injury. By the time he got up to the top, he found several rooms separated by what looked like paper walls, but Anduin knew to be much stronger and more soundproof than any parchment or paper he knew of.

At the end of a hallway of about six rooms per side of the hall, a large wooden double door was open and the light was pouring out of it. Anduin approached cautiously and heard the sounds of digging, clattering and "no-no, well maybe... no actually that's horrid," from inside. Anduin poked his head through the threshold of the door and found some of the most elegant quarters he had ever seen inside. The room was bathed in light from what looked like refined lamps, but no smell of oil so Anduin didn't know what fueled the lamp. In the back middle of the room was a massive king-sized bed with a trunk in front of it, kneeling in front of it was Wrathion and a puddle of discarded clothing.

"Everything okay?" Anduin called from the door.

"Yes yes, just... come here." Anduin approached him cautiously, once he got within sight of the dragon he held up a tunic and looked between Anduin and the clothing. "Try this one." He ordered tossing the black fabric in Anduin's general direction.

"Right here?" Anduin asked, stumbling to catch the misguided tunic.

"Unless you want to pick out your chamber." Wrathion said, "but I'll likely be coming in and out anyways, I want to see how they look before I set out with you." Wrathion met his eyes for a long second unblinking. "I won't look while you change if you don't want me to."

Anduin scooted so he was solidly behind Wrathion, so the dragon would have to turn all the way around to see him before he carefully set the shirt down on a conspicuously empty table and began to pull his decorations off, golden bordered stole came first and blue shawl followed shortly thereafter. Finally, after another few moments, his shirt came off, with a final glance to make sure Wrathion wasn't looking before he did so. Tattered across Anduin’s skin was horrid scars from where the bell had smashed him, a few from where his ribs had jutted out of his chest after the initial blow and scratches from his skirmishes with the Horde as of late.

As he pulled the black fabric of the tunic over his head, he noticed that the tunic was incredibly well made and very soft, allowing Anduin to breathe and flex but not be too loose or revealing. He even suspected there was a bit of padding to serve as a small amount of amour in it. I need to find out who this guy's tailor is! He thought absently "Oh and try these!" Wrathion called tossing a heap of clothing over at him. Anduin jumped away from them as they clattered to the floor. Lifting them up he found it also had a black bead necklace, which he put on. The other cloth object was a set of linen pants but also finely made from first brush of his fingers against it.

Another look was cast at Wrathion before Anduin dared begin the process to change into these. Seeing that the dragon was still rummaging through his trunk Anduin breathed a sigh of relief, "let me know when you're ready!" Wrathion said distantly.

Anduin's suspicions about the quality of these linen pants were correct. Just like the tunic, they fit well without crushing him and still allowed him movement.

"Are we the same size?" Anduin asked, he definitely had a similar build to Wrathion but surely not a perfect match, right?

"I don’t know, these are all enchanted to fit whoever wears them." Wrathion replied, "Can I look now?"

Anduin took a second to adjust the leather belt tossed with the rest of the clothing, "yeah you're good now."

Wrathion made a show of turning around and coming up to examine Anduin. He made several hums and noncommittal sounds that worried Anduin. "Turn around," Wrathion ordered. Anduin followed instructions and waited only a minute or so more before he had his answer. "You look good in this, well no, the belt needs to change to be black and the beads...the beads can go."

Wrathion turned and went back to the trunk and began to load all the clothing back into it, but not before pulling out the belt he was thinking of and extending a hand to indicate he wanted Anduin to hand over the items he requested. Anduin obliged and took the new belt choice. Wrathion slammed the trunk closed, flicked his wrist at it and then turned to the other prince. His red eyes glinting curiously at Anduin as he examined. "Yes, that will work." He nearly purred.

Anduin noticed he had selected another outfit as well, along with some elaborate jewelry. "You don't want me wearing that, do you?"

"You aren't nearly pretty enough to pull that off." Wrathion replied flatly, "no, I'm going to be wearing that."

"Hey!" Anduin hissed.

"I said pretty, you're plenty handsome, but it requires a certain...grace," Wrathion explained, the backhanded compliment still made Anduin's cheeks flush.

"Thanks, I think," Anduin replied and then realized a much bigger issue, "you're not going to change in here... are you?"

"This is... my chambers. So yes... I am going to change in here."

"But I'm standing right here!"

"So? You can watch if you'd like," There was a strange glint in his eyes when he said it. "Or you can walk out the door to my room."

"Oh." Anduin felt sort of stupid because of the simple solution. Hobbling out as quick as he could, jumping when he saw Left and Right standing on their respective sides of the door. Anduin had not noticed them come up the stairs, hadn't even heard them when they flanked the door. "Do you guys sleep?" He asked.

"We take shifts during the night." Right answered Left looked straight ahead.

"Which one doesn't get to sleep before Wrathion wakes up?"

"The one who isn't chatty." Left replied.

"The one whose breakfast consists entirely of coffee." Right said.

"We ready to go?" Wrathion's voice said from behind Anduin, making him jump.

"Yes." Both girls said at once.

"Where are we going?" Anduin asked again.

"You'll see," Wrathion said with a small smirk.

"Better question," Anduin continued his thought as though Wrathion hadn't said anything. "We're on a mountainside surrounded in mist, how are we getting down?"

"How did you get up?" Wrathion asked a question to reply. Nudging Anduin aside so he could squeeze past.

"Horses."

"Then you will be using horses to get down."

"Don't you mean 'we'?"

"I eat horses, not ride them." The dragon said pointedly. Descending the staircase with ease and Anduin noticed his new outfit nearly sparkled, he had golden bands looped around his ears in at least three places and his outfit was indeed sleek and elegant. His hair, curly and black, was released from the white turban it had been in all day and he smelled faintly of an expensive cologne that Anduin could not quite name. "Meet me at the docks."

***

The sun had set by the time Left, Right and Anduin made it down to the docks Wrathion had mentioned (Left and Right knew it better than he) and found Wrathion sitting on a stack of crates, "you finally made it!" He flipped his hair back behind his shoulder and slipped off the crates, landing neatly beside the group. "Leave the horses here." Left and Right slid off the horses instantly. Anduin took a second longer, wondering what they were doing here of all places he had seen a pier before.

"That's our boat," Wrathion said as a ship sailed into the harbor.

It proudly bore the Alliance flag and when it docked the caller yelled "All aboard for Stormwind City!"

Anduin shot a look at Wrathion. "I've been to my capital and my home city before!"

"I understand that," Wrathion replied. "Just... trust me." The group boarded and Anduin went to tip the deckhands a couple of silver but they all diligently refused to say that their boss paid them more than enough to help them along.

"Who's your boss?" Anduin asked a man.

"Behind you." The human replied. He seemed well educated, well-fed, ring on his finger suggested married.

Anduin turned around to see Wrathion looming behind him, not overly close, just watching Anduin interact with the crewman. "How long have you been there?" Anduin hissed.

"We are both standing on the center deck. It's not exactly a good place for private conversations." Wrathion replied.

"You own these boats?"

"Yes."

"How much do you pay them?"

"A gold piece a day," Wrathion replied. "For the deckhands. The better ones get two and promotion, my captain and first mates get five."

"Wow." Anduin was a little awed. "No wonder you need that half million."

"Oh no, I have plenty of 'inheritance' from my father to afford this and my stay at the tavern for more than a hundred thousand years. I am in no hurry for that. Most of your father's gold will go to my personal hoard."

Anduin took a seat in a nearby chair. "There's a difference?"

"Savings versus Spending money," Wrathion said taking a seat across from Anduin.

"Ah." Anduin looked up and saw his home city sprawled out before him. "Woah... that was fast!"

"We don't exactly have all night now do we?" Wrathion said standing again and gesturing Anduin and the guards to follow. As Anduin passed, he saw on the bow a person in light clothing, arcane power sparkling around their finger and then fading out. A portal?

"I'm beginning to realize I've never seen a proper harbor." Wrathion mused as he gazed around the harbor, "well, not one that's not fully owned by me anyways."

Anduin was surprised by that for a moment, before realizing Wrathion probably had not.

"Well, there's quite a large one here in Stormwind, I don't know if you noticed already."

Wrathion snorted to himself, the individual snort became something more of a laugh, "I'm sorry, maybe I just don't understand human speech very well but that just sounds like a really bad innuendo. Like 'hey baby, want to see my Harbor?"

Anduin choked on a laugh, giving Wrathion an amused glare. "Please never say that again."

Wrathion waggled his eyebrows playfully in response. "What, don't you want to park your boat in my harbor?" Wrathion teased.

Anduin whacked him on the shoulder, making the dragon laugh. "Shut up before I throw you into the actual harbor." Anduin threatened, getting an amused eye-roll in response.

"Yes, fine, your majesty." Anduin huffed in annoyance, and several moments of silence passed as they walked through the bustling streets of the city, the cathedral bell tolling in the distance.

"I do have to ask," Anduin began, "What's it like to be a dragon? Is changing into a human form like a druid shapeshift?" He could not help his curiosity. It was not very often one got to speak to a dragon, let alone one that didn't seem to mind a bit of prodding.

Wrathion shrugged. "In dragon form, you feel... powerful. Even when you're extraordinarily little."

"And changing into a human?"

Wrathion let out a long, tired groan. "Fuck that."

Anduin burst into a fit of surprised laughter. "Is it really that bad?"

Wrathion had a very tired, annoyed look on his face. "It's awful. I constantly feel like I need to stretch. I keep trying to use limbs I no longer have. Do you know how awful it is to suddenly be grounded when you've been able to fly on your own your whole life?"

Anduin laughed again at the exhausted sincerity in his voice. "I don't, but that sounds pretty annoying."

"It is!"

Anduin was giggling uncontrollably under his breath. He couldn't help it, the sheer exasperation the dragon was radiating was incredibly amusing for some reason.

"Do you want to go somewhere to stretch your wings?"

Wrathion grimaced. "I'd love to, but turning into a dragon, no matter how small, is a little, awkward in populated places."

Anduin raised an eyebrow. "That's why we do it somewhere that's not the city."

Wrathion mimicked his expression, but he had a slight smirk on his face. "You trying to take me somewhere more private, Prince?"

Anduin huffed and shoved him lightly, choosing to ignore the heat that rose to his face. "Shut up! You know that's not what I mean!"

Wrathion just laughed. After that, they engaged in idle banter until Anduin had followed Wrathion through the city to the main section of the city and down the main street, which was fairly quiet now, out into Elwyn Forest past the walls of the city onto a well-used dirt road that could lead to Northshire Abbey or Goldshire depending on which turn one took during a fork in the road.

There was a soft flutter beside Anduin and when the young priest turned to look Wrathion was gone and in his place was an itty bitty little baby black and red dragon. "Aww! You're so little!" Anduin exclaimed without thinking.

The dragon rolled his bright red eyes. "That's not what your dad said last night." Wrathion huffed. Flapping his little wings with surprising power, he plopped down atop Anduin's head, "onwards noble steed! To Goldshire!' Anduin rolled his eyes but even the dragon's voice had shrunk down with him so he had an adorable scaly kitten, who without a good comeback had no issue resorting to a 'your mom' joke. Well 'your dad' in this case but still. Anduin put on a show of sighing before he obliged the tiny dragon and began to wander towards the town, said dragon delighted that his plan had been a success.

He walked in silence for a while and as the signs pointing to Goldshire became more urgent Wrathion spoke again, "alright when we get there, don't say hi or introduce yourself to anyone. You're rather recognizable as it is!" Wrathion instructed as he flapped off, transforming back into a human. "Titans, this form is restraining." He grunted, his voice a normal pitch again as he stretched his shoulders. "If anyone asks, your name is Tress and you're passing through on your way to Redridge."

"Will anybody still be out?" Anduin ran a hand through his hair to put it back in place from where the dragon had ruffled it.

"Probably not but just in case."

"Okay then, what about you?"

"I'm Derrek and I'm an old friend of yours taking you out to my farmstead in Redridge," Wrathion replied without missing a beat.

"You think about this a lot?" Anduin quieted as the village came into sight.

"I had some time while I waited for the rest of you."

"Hey, were are Left and Right anyways?" Anduin inquired, suddenly realizing that he hadn't seen either of the girls since they docked in Stormwind Harbor.

"Staying out of sight. Orcs aren't particularly welcome in Stormwind."

"Touché." Anduin nodded, scanning the tree line but saw no movement.

Thankfully, when they reached the square of the tiny town that was Goldshire it was empty, all the residents or travelers having gone to sleep for the evening. "This way!" Wrathion whispered, taking off on a side road that led to a loggers camp some miles down.

"How much farther?" Anduin asked, his leg was starting to hurt.

"Not much," Wrathion promised, straying off the path and hopping over a wooden fence.

"I... can't do that." Anduin reminded Wrathion gently.

"Sure you can. I'll help." Wrathion scoffed, "give me the bad one." Anduin did so with some hesitation, but thankfully Wrathion was gentle in his hold and helped Anduin situate so he simply slid over the fence like on would slide off a horse. "There we go! See? Nothing to worry about!" He purred. Anduin nodded, he was grateful for Wrathion at least to have planned for or worked around Anduin's injury. Together they crept into a field with easily a hundred cows scattered about, deep in sleep.

Wrathion beckoned Anduin closer as he stood beside one of the massive animals. With a suppressed grin the dragon gently pushed the cow so it rolled onto its side. The animal blinked lazily at him and accepted this new change in position, curling up and resuming its rest. "Are you serious?" Anduin hissed under his breath. "You dragged me out here to bother farm animals? What's next? Pulling cat's tails?"

"We're not hurting them!" Wrathion retorted, "just try it it'll be fun!"

"I am not going cow tipping with you!" Anduin snapped and stalked off, going around the fence and finding a grassy hill and finding a place to sit. "By the Light, this is my babysitter?" He groaned into his hands, rubbing his eyes sleepily.

"Okay, okay." Wrathion's voice said as something sat next to him on the grass. "This is good too." Anduin peeked out between his fingers and saw Wrathion gazing up into the star-speckled sky. "To think, my father's wings once darkened this beautiful sky, this lush world, and tried to crush all the beauty out of it... it’s a shame. He should have been the one to most appreciate all the things there are to see in this life."

Anduin lay back into the grass, following his gaze up with Wrathion's. "I hate to ask this, but are you glad he's gone?"

"Yes," Wrathion said after a moment. "But for all the horrid things he did, he was still my father."

"I understand." Anduin nodded even though Wrathion wasn't looking at him, "I mean, I hate living in my dad's shadow, but I still love him to death and well I know he loves me. I'd be devastated if he died, even if we don't always agree on a lot of things."

Wrathion's eyes slowly drifted to Anduin, "was this bargain your father struck his idea?"

"No." Anduin replied, "It was mine."

"Why sell yourself to a total stranger?"

"I..." Anduin thought for a long time, "I hated having to look over my shoulder, having my life be on the line because of Garrosh. After my injury, I knew I could not fight off Garrosh, even if there had been any chance at all it was taken from me, I can't even run from him now. My family has had a few run-ins with the Black Dragonflight, and none of them good, but I knew you weren't like them and I wanted to try again."

"Did he fight your choice?"

"Yes, for a while." Anduin toyed with the soft fabric of his new clothing, "but he came to see that it was the best option we had."

"I see," Wrathion said and the conversation fell to silence. After a while, Wrathion stood up, "Come on. Let's go home."

Chapter 5: Fire!

Wrathion helped Anduin up with no trouble before they set off for Stormwind Harbor again.

The walk was quiet for the most part until Anduin's head perked up. "Hey, do you smell smoke?"

"It's probably-" Wrathion took a big sniff of air, it did smell like smoke and he wasn't breathing smoke or fire at all. "Me..." Wrathion trailed off and with some relief shifted into his dragon form and flapped above the treeline. Stormwind slept soundly but behind him, Goldshire had a bright light of orange around it. Wrathion landed again, transforming back into a human. "Goldshire has a fire going... a big one."

Anduin's eyes went wide, "shit, Goldshire might be on fire!" He realized and took off in the way the boys had just come from, limping because of his leg.

"What if it's not on fire? Then you've strained yourself for no reason!" Wrathion growled catching up in a single bound.

"That is a sacrifice I am willing to make to ensure the safety of my people." Anduin spat back. "If you're not with me I'll meet you at the boat if you are with me shut up and do something!"

Wrathion stared blankly at Anduin for what felt like an hour but was only a few seconds. "Fine. What do you want me to do?"

"You're a dragon, you should know how best to combat fire!"

"But I don't!" Wrathion complained.

"Than go get people out! You're faster than me!" Anduin's blue eyes shimmered harshly. Wrathion nodded numbly and took off in the direction of Goldshire. Left, Right I need someone to watch Anduin! He thought, touching an emerald on one of his rings.

Understood. Left replied.

Wrathion arrived in a horrible scene. The entire village of Goldshire was engulfed in flame, people were running everywhere, screaming, crying and among the chaos was...orcs

Left stay hidden, they won't differentiate between you and the enemy.

"Come out come out little prince..." One snarled in the guttural language that was Orcish. With a growl, Wrathion lept into the inn, hoping he had avoided detection. He touched the emerald again, They're after Anduin! Watch out for an ambush! Wrathion pushed off the crumbling wall and raced out of the inn, now that he had sent his message. It wasn't these people's fault the orcs were after Anduin and the attack pissed Wrathion off. They were hardly better than Wrathion’s father!

With a roar, Wrathion leaped on one of the Orcs and tore at him with sharp claws and teeth. Despite blood springing to the wounds it wasn't as effective as any of his draconic abilities might be, but his dragon form was just a bit too small to be useful in combat yet. He inhaled deeply as he saw a second orc approaching. With a snarl, he pushed off the first and as the orc stumbled to its feet in front of its friend, Wrathion unleashed his fire breath on both opponents.

While still recovering his breath Wrathion looked around. There were more orcs, no surprise but then he realized he had backed himself against the forge and two more were much too close for any of the athletic trickery he had been using. Wrathion snarled bravely at the swords that were pointed at him, he would breathe again but that wasn't something he could do twice in a row and remain standing. Plus it didn't help the burning village situation. A flash of light blinded the dragon for a second but then it faded and in its wake, Wrathion saw Anduin, light flaring in his palm and snarl bared.

"You alright?" Anduin asked keeping an eye out for more threats.

"Yes, thanks to you." Wrathion replied.

"Go get people out of these buildings! I'll deal with the orcs!" A crossbow bolt shot dangerously close to both of the boys but flew past and slammed into the skull of another orc. Both turning to see the source of this shot. Left appeared out of the shadows just long enough to take the shot before vanishing among them again. With a slight nod in her direction, Wrathion darted over to the inn once more. Wrathion didn't mind the smoke and fire that had begun to devour the building if anything he was rather comfortable in it, but he knew humans were rather... flammable. He finally caught his breath searched the basement first, the chef and innkeeper huddled behind a barrel of mead.

"Let's get you out of here friends!" Wrathion said as soon as he got far enough down the stairs to see the pair.

"The guests!" The Innkeep choked out, he had inhaled a lot of the smoke it seemed. "Some are still up there!"

Wrathion narrowed his eyes. "You," He turned to the chef, "get you both out." He gazed back at the Innkeep, "I'll get them if I can alright?" The Innkeep nodded slowly as the chef helped him to his feet. "Find the man with blonde hair outside, he'll help you."

With that, the dragon zipped back up the basement stairs and rounded the corner and leaped over the banister to get to the upstairs. A part of the roof collapsed in front of the dragon, who flung himself backward to get out of the way and nearly stumbled back down a step or two. A fire couldn't hurt the dragon but a falling log sure could.

With a huge inhale the dragon breathed in the flame, held it for a second and then let it out as a small breath before he surged over the log and finished his ascent to the upper level. One of the two rooms was blocked off by smoldering wood pieces. The other was still mostly intact. A glance over the easily accessible room revealed nothing but he felt a tugging at his pant leg. A little girl gripped him desperately. "It's okay. I'll help you out." Wrathion promised the tiny human. She nodded and carefully came out of hiding. "Where are your parents?"

"I..I don't know." The little girl whimpered.

"Alright, I'll keep looking, but let's get you out." Wrathion slowed his pace painfully to guide the little girl to the door and directing her to Anduin before he flew up the stairs again. Inhaling the flames again he began to claw at the rubble blocking the other door. He loosened the rocks as best as he could, soon he felt another set of hands working the wood. A glance over revealed Anduin kneeling beside him helping Wrathion clear some of the smaller rubble pieces so the stronger dragon could dislodge the bigger pieces. Around Anduin was a light glow of a protective bubble that Wrathion assumed was to protect the boy from the smoke. Soon the pair broke through and in the room was a small family. Father, mother, and a little boy. "Are you alright?" Both boys asked.

The little boy coughed and the parents looked frightened, having been carefully navigating the crumbling floor. "Where's Heather?" The father asked

"Outside." Anduin replied, "we'll help you out."

The family carefully gathered themselves and lead the way out with Anduin and Wrathion in tow. "How'd it go with the orcs?" Wrathion asked quietly.

"We were able to drive them off."

"We?"

"Well besides Left and Right and anything you may think about humans, many humans do not like seeing their homes invaded and will fight to defend it."

"Understood."

"Any casualties on this side?" Anduin asked, glancing into the other room hesitantly. Looking relieved when he saw nothing.

"Lots of inhaled smoke but nothing a priest can't reverse I don't think."

"Thank the Light." Anduin's shoulders drooped. He suddenly looked exhausted. "Let's go home."

Wrathion couldn't agree more.

Chapter 6: Brave Face

Anduin and Wrathion had come to the agreement on the way home that Wrathion's room was only about half full and could hold another person if they were comfortable with one another, and they had decided they were, so Anduin had moved all the stuff the pack mule he had been left with to the large room at the end of the upstairs hall. The furnishings would not change, as Anduin hadn't brought any save a chest of personal belongings, so Anduin got the wardrobe against the eastern wall of the suddenly giant room.

The north wall was where the beds rested. Wrathions was about a nightstand's length away from the western wall and Anduin tucked his bed, which he had borrowed from an unoccupied room, all the way in the Northeastern corner. Against the foot of Wrathion's bed was his trunk of clothing and on the southern wall was the conspicuously empty table which had two chairs sitting at it. At the foot on Anduin's bed was a similar chest but it contained all manner of study materials and things to do, books to read and wooden weapons to spar with. After moving in Anduin had decided to take a bath in the hot pool just under the back balcony of the inn. The same back balcony that was connected to Wrathion and Anduin's room, it had a rocking chair on it and it was a well-loved rocking chair at that. Aside from that, he was ecstatic to be able to bathe after a long day of smoke and fire.

Anduin hadn't seen much of Wrathion since he had started moving in his stuff, save Wrathion taking long enough to clean out the wardrobe so Anduin could use it. Anduin hadn't really been worried about it until he got out to the hot pool, set his towel on a rock, stripped out of the odd clothes and slithered into the water and leaned back on the staircase leading down into the water. The warmth felt nice on his leg, well it felt nice, everywhere to be quite frank. Relaxed, Anduin began to sing a little tune,

"It's not fair to be alo--ah!" He nearly jumped out of the water when he realized the bright red light he had passed over without noticing were eyes, not lights. "How long have you been watching me?" He demanded from the dragon, who looked a little bit too smug that he had caught Anduin singing. Anduin's cheeks flushed a little, and then a lot when he realized that he was equally as exposed as Wrathion was, nothing but water obscuring visions of things Anduin did not want to see and did not want to be seen. Don't be stupid he probably doesn't even have anything because this human form is just a disguise. Wrathion purred softly, "Not long." he said, "though you haven't been here very long either so I suppose my point is invalid." His black curls even longer as he brushed them out with a wooden comb. "Don't worry I was just getting out when you walked out here so I decided to wait."

"To watch me?" Anduin narrowed his eyes.

"No so I wouldn't be streaking in front of you." Wrathion rolled his bright red eyes. well maybe he does have- Anduin shook his head to clear that thought before he finished it.

"Just go, I'll close my eyes."

"No need," Wrathion said shifting into a dragon and fluttering away behind a rock opposite Anduin's, which was a little more than hip height so Wrathion changed back, dried himself off, grabbed his discarded clothing and fluttered away to the balcony.

Anduin sighed and finished bathing quickly, he heard howls up in the mountains and it reminded him too much of the orcs who had attacked Goldshire. Where they part of the Horde?

Anduin didn't know but didn't think his father would be pleased either way. He heaved himself out of the warm water, tying his towel around his waist and grabbed his clothes before heading upstairs. Right stood from the table Wrathion had been sitting at when Varian had approached and followed the boy up but stopped at the door threshold while Anduin continued past the threshold. Anduin did not see Wrathion and took the opportunity to dress in his nightclothes and then took a step out onto the cool balcony. Wrathion gently rocked in his chair and seemed to be reading. Wrathion was in fuzzy night clothes and seemed to be at peace with his surroundings, his book open in his lap and him focusing intently on it instead of glancing around like he was being watched like he normally did. "Wrathion?" Anduin whispered gently. The dragon looked up at him sleepily. "Let's come in for the night. It's cold out here."

"Alright." Wrathion agreed without the reluctance Anduin had expected. He stood and followed Anduin back into the tavern. Anduin plopped down on his bed, happy to feel something soft underneath him for the first time all day. While Wrathion slipped under his covers more methodically.

Anduin had expected them to go to sleep not long after that, but they ended up talking for many many hours despite the madness of the day.

"Did you see that Night Elf girl?" Anduin asked excitedly.

"No." Wrathion replied calmly.

"Oh come on you can't tell me she wasn't the prettiest thing you've ever seen!"

"She wasn't."

"So you admit you saw her?!"

"Yes, but I didn't notice her. It takes a lot to get a dragon to notice someone in that way."

"Well I noticed her!" Anduin retorted.

"I think you noticed the curves of a tree you lonely priest." Wrathion teased, his voice held no malice and honestly Anduin had seen him eyeing up some people too, though he'd deny it Anduin was sure.

"Would you two shut up and go to sleep?" Right snapped poking her head in the room.

"Sorry!" Anduin squeaked. Shifting so he lay down and closed his eyes to sleep.

Something was making one side of his pillow heavier than the other. Anduin tried to shove it off but to no avail. Blinking open his eyes he saw... a dragon whelp. He nearly jumped out of his skin. "Light! What are you doing over here?" He hissed.

"I..." the dragon looked embarrassed. "I don't know. You just seemed... cold. You were shivering." Wrathion explained in the softest voice he could.

The dragon was admittedly warm. Anduin was about to send the dragon away anyways when he realized something. He has no friends or family... he must be so lonely. Poor guy, being so brave around everyone and just taking everyone's doubts and expectations to become his father but... he has nothing for himself. I think we have more common ground than either of us assumed. "No, it's okay," Anduin said catching the dragon and settling him on the sheets. Looks like we both need each other. Thank you Light, for bringing me to a place I can finally help someone else.

Chapter 7: Accord

Wrathion woke up later than Anduin, he knew it the second he regained consciousness. The bed next to him was cold, save the heat emanating from his breath. He shifted into his human form and stretching before sliding off the bed.

Something about him felt... off, not wrong per se just, strange. A quick reworking of his disguise revealed nothing, save maybe his facial hair becoming a slight bit more prominent than before. Then there must be something wrong with me instead he noted. With a small sigh of anxiety, he shifted back into his true form.

Suddenly the space between him, the bed, the trunk, and the dresser was much too small and getting smaller. With a startled snarl Wrathion shifted back and scooted away from anything nearby. Proportions were normal again. What is happening to me? He hissed to himself and tried again. This time the world got smaller but he didn't hit anything right off. He examined himself after taking a second to realize he wasn't hovering in the air like he normally did. Instead his front paws and back were both strong enough and long enough to touch the ground at the same time and balance him. He wondered briefly if dragons had a puberty stage of their adolescence but pushed the thought aside as curiosity overtook anything else. He reached up a forepaw and went to touch his head and promptly prodded himself with sharp horns. Setting the paw down, not minding the sting of being jabbed, he stretched his wings. As he did so he got a satisfactory little woosh of air beneath their power and size. Though he did quickly realize as he spread his wings to their capacity that he was knocking books off their shelves and pushing aside furniture.

One last thing he could test here in the tavern. He took a deep breath in and roared with all his strength. The noise echoed through the nearby mountains and shook the building with its power. He felt rather smug and then quickly realized that the fact the tavern floor was holding up a dragon, albeit the size of a Polar Bear, up without complaint. He did admire how large he had gotten, from the size of a kitten to the size of a bear was a massive change to happen overnight. Much less all the other stuff.

Wrathion was finally a drake!

A head popped around the corner, blue eyes peered into the bedroom, "Wrathion?" Anduin asked, "the staff are worried about you."

"Yeah, it's me." He purred taking a seat, his head nearly touching the roof. Even his voice held exponentially more power than it had before. "Everything's fine."

"Wow!" Anduin smiled at him, "You're way bigger now than when I got up this morning!"

Wrathion cocked his head at him, "How big was I?"

"Maybe the size of a komodo dragon, " Anduin replied, measuring with his hands as he made his way over to his friend. He reached out to touch the obsidian colored scales but quickly restrained himself. "Sorry-uh may I? I've never actually felt a dragon's scale before."

Wrathion did the dragon equivalent of a shrug. "Sure." Anduin made a pleased noise and very gently reached out and set a hand of the dragon's flank. The contact surprised Wrathion, it was warm and soft and incredibly... exciting for lack of a better word. Anduin stroked Wrathion's side like one would pet a cat and to some degree, Wrathion was annoyed at the gentleness Anduin showed him but a much larger part of him wanted him to keep doing so forever, each touch sending more and more shocks to the excitement pooling in his chest. Wrathion felt something twitch in his belly and shook Anduin off, "That's enough." He tried to say gently despite the rising panic. Anduin, clearly without thinking glanced down to the dragon's underbelly and, seeming to regret his decision quickly looked back up at Wrathion's face instead. Before he could process what Anduin had seen a cold thought washed over him. "Shit. I'm late for the Accord." He snarled.

"The what?" Anduin asked seeming relieved at the change in subjects.

"The Accord, listen we have to go but basically it's an annual meeting between all the Dragon Aspects." Wrathion considered for a moment, "and I don't have time to horse you all the way down to the pier."

Anduin flushed a deep red color suddenly. "Well, maybe you're big enough now that I can... ride on your back?"

Wrathion caught the possible innuendo but had no time to respond to it. "Yes yes fine." He growled and crouched down so Anduin could carefully wriggle himself up onto the curve of Wrathion's back. He seemed almost giddy with getting to ride a dragon. This slightly annoyed Wrathion, he was not some mount to be collected in some adventure's journal. He didn't think that's what Anduin planned to do and again had no time to consider it.

"Are you two okay?" Right asked poking her head into the doorframe.

"Yeah, we're going to the Accord," Wrathion replied.

"We'll meet you there."

"Thanks!" Wrathion nodded approval and began to plod out onto the balcony. Anduin ducked to avoid hitting the doorframe as Wrathion squeezed through it with only some amount of trouble. With a sharp breath, Wrathion leaped off the banister, spread his wings and flew he soared into the sky with a few powerful beats of his wings. Anduin squeaked as Wrathion leaped and tried to do a little trick, but was still trying to figure out his body first. After his liftoff, Wrathion did his best to simply glide down the mountainside but would keep some distance between his underbelly and the treeline below.

"Woo!" Anduin cheered from atop him, Wrathion roared in agreement and together they went soaring down the mountain shouting and roaring all the way.

The landing was the hardest part. Wrathion tried his best to be gentle as he touched down, so as not to jostle Anduin off over his head if he could manage.

Unfortunately Anduin did get knocked off and was sent flying. Fortunately grabbing onto something as he went. Unfortunately, it was Wrathion's neck. Wrathion stumbled but was able to right himself before falling over completely. "Sorry!" He called back at the boy clinging onto him for dear life.

"Scared the Light out of me dude!" Anduin growled as he regained his balance. Wrathion shifted back into a human, which suddenly felt oddly comfortable. There was an awkward pause before Anduin let go of Wrathion and went over to take a seat on the grass. "Next time. We're going to need a saddle."

"Next time?" Wrathion replied. "Is there going to be a next time?"

Anduin smiled broadly at him then, which caught Wrathion by surprise, "that was the most fun I've had since like forever ago!" Anduin looked... very small then, like an 8-year-old child rather than a grown man to become king one day. It tugged at something inside Wrathion that he couldn't quite name.

It was probably nothing. Wrathion decided, he was just hormonal.

"Wrathion?" Anduin's voice brought Wrathion back to the now.

"Sorry what were you saying?" Wrathion asked meeting gentle blue eyes.

"I was asking if it would be okay if we did some more practice with the flight." Anduin said patiently.

"Yes that'd be fine." Wrathion said, voice cracking as he fought off a surge of emotion that swelled up inside him. He offered a hand to Anduin to help him up. Anduin took it and heaved himself up, their fingers staying within brushing distance for a few seconds too long and even when they separated they walked much closer together than they had previously. Anduin following Wrathion closely as the latter stepped onto the boat to Northrend.

The temperature dropped significantly after that. Wrathion looked up and knew he was in Dragonblight. The graveyard of dragons including the father of dragons, Galakrond.

Chapter 8: Wrymrest

Anduin had visited Northrend on a number of occasions. He had never liked it much. Not for any reason other than he hated the cold, especially since he was more used to more temperate conditions. Wrathion seemed to have no such reservations as he stepped off the boat and on to the dock, easing his way to actual land before he transformed into a dragon again, crouching so again Anduin could clamor up onto the dragon.

Anduin squawked as Wrathion took off. He wasn't so concerned with the idea of flying, he had ridden griffins before, it was the fact that Wrathion had a greater than human intelligence and as a result was not as conscientious of his flight posture and might not fully understand that dropping Anduin from this heigh, while maybe an entertaining prank among dragons would be a death sentence to Anduin.

Despite his concerns, the pair arrived without incident. Though Anduin did come out of his thoughts as the ground got closer. "Try landing on all four feet when you land," Anduin suggested, might as well try it, see if it worked.

Wrathion didn't reply and Anduin began to worry the dragon hadn't heard or was offended at the comment but Wrathion did as he was asked and they landed with a gentle thump. Anduin still got knocked into the air a few inches because of gravity's effect on him.

Sliding down off the back of Wrathion, Anduin looked up and found that he was the closest to Wyrmrest Temple than he had ever been.

The tower loomed over him into the icy sky. The building, from Anduin's understanding, had four levels. The topmost level served as the roof and was where the battle with Deathwing and Ultraxion, Deathwing's experiment that had gone right, had taken place. Above the bones of Galakrond, Deathwing had taken a mighty blow thanks to the orc shaman Thrall, who had wielded the artifact/weapon the Dragon Soul. The Dragon Soul had been a powerful artifact created by the Dragon Aspects and had, ironically, been the idea of Neltharion. The weapon later disassembled Deathwing into nothing but atoms.

That battle had stretched as far as the Malestrom in the middle of the sea separating Kalimdor and The Eastern Kingdoms but it had begun here at Wrymrest Temple.

The next floor down was where the commander of the Wyrmrest defenders, Lord Afrasastrasz, resided, it also served as a war room if the need arose.

The level under that was the common sector, generally, this was as much of Wyrmrest Temple that mortals got to lay eyes on. Though that was no to downplay its beauty in and of itself.

The bottom floor, half-buried beneath the ice, was the room that severed as the portal room for the dragons. All five Dragonflights had a Portal to their respective realms. And the realms, as far as Anduin knew never having been through any of the portals, were as follows: The Black Dragonflight's realm was in the heart of an active volcano, though it lay abandoned now that the Black Dragonflight had all but been wiped out, with its last remaining member staying in Pandaria for the time being.

The Red Dragonflight got a cherry tree grove that had once been ransacked by Deathwing's forces but had since recovered splendidly.

The Green Dragonflight got the Emerald Dream. The realm where all dreams, wishes, and hopes, were real, but also so were all the nightmares and fear, the Green Dragons spent their time trying to control the balance between the two. It is said that once one falls asleep the mind wanders the Emerald Dream until one wakes.

The Blue Dragonflight resided in the Realm known as the Eye of Eternity, which was the home of magic in its purest form. After the Nexus War most if the Blue Dragonflight went extinct, but those that remained studied there.

Last but not least was the Bronze Dragonflight's home in the Caverns of Time, which were located on the continent of Kalimdor. The Caverns of Time were where the Bronze Dragonflight guarded the time ways dutifully and protected all that had happened, no matter how bad, for it all served a greater purpose.

This chamber also apparently served as the council room for the Aspects since Wrathion plodded off down the icy chasm floor into the room. The room was circular in shape and on the edges of the room were the portals. More to the center of the room were five large circular platforms surrounding a collum if starlight, not harsh enough to be blinding but enough to illuminate the dragons placed on all the platforms but one. The second the boys entered, all eyes fell onto Wrathion. Anduin just happened to be in the perfect spot to notice the nervous tail-flick Wrathion gave before stepping up onto the vacant platform that was part of the circle of other Dragonflights.

Across from Wrathion, was Kalecgos, the Spell Weaver, Anduin had met him before but only in his human form. As a half-elf, Kalec had blue hair and eyes and spoke elegantly but now as a dragon at least ten times larger than Wrathion, he looked much more imposing. His horns alone were the size of three Anduin's, the latter feeling rather small in comparison suddenly, at only five and a half feet tall.

Next to Kalecgos was the Green Dragon Ysera, the Dreamer, she was about a head taller than Kalcegos and floating between her horns was upside down golden crescent with divets gave it a glaive like appearance.

Next to her was a crimson dragon about a Ysera and a half tall, her horns and claws heavily adorned in jewels and other decorations. Alexstraza the Life-Binder in the flesh.

Closest to Wrathion was a Ysera sized Bronze Dragon, Nozdormu the Infinite, sometimes called Nozdormu the Timeless stood proud beside his decorated companions.

Besides each Aspect were two smaller dragons, one on either side of the same color of their respective Aspect. Except Wrathion. Wrathion's only companion was a human.

"What doesss a mortal want with the affairssss of dragonss?" Nozdormu asked, golden eyes glinting as he recognized the human taking a spot besides Wrathion's flank.

"Wrathion!" Alexstraza thundered, "You show up late and you bring a mortal with you?" She hissed.

"Mighty Dragon Aspects," Anduin bowed as deep as he could without aggravating his leg, and to hide his body trembling, "I meant no disrespect by my presence." He explained smoothly.

"This one's father and I arranged an agreement that requires him to remain by my side at all times." Wrathion explained, "I am to protect the Prince of Humans."

Alexstraza blinked at him a few times. "But you still brought a mortal-"

"Let the mortal thing go." Kalecgos snarled, "he already explained why the mortal is here."

Alexstraza glared at Kalecgos. "Very well." She hissed reluctantly. "Nozdormu, who is to speak first today?"

Nozdormu tilted his head. "Wrathion speaksss firssst. Kalecgossss next year."

Wrathion with a small intake of breath looked up at the other dragons in attendance. "Now that the rest of the Corrupted Black Dragonflight has been eradicated, I wish to take my place as the Black Aspect." He said his voice strained but not out of anxiety like his tail swishes were.

Alexstraza laughed, "You will not hold that title if I have any say in it." She snarled. Wrathion Wrathion away violently. Even his cool expression could not hide the hurt from the verbal blow.

"Sister," Ysera snapped from besides Alexstraza. "This is not Deathwing."

"So what? His child is nearly as bad!"

"Alexstraza," Kalecgos began, "You have to let this go, Wrathion is not to be blamed for his father's sins."

"You want me to let go of the rape, torture and murder of my children?" Alexstraza howled in rage and fury, eyes lighting on fire and turned of the Spell Weaver.

Kalecgos was unfazed. "Of course not." As he said that, something occurred to Anduin, the first being they were speaking Common instead of Draconic, why include the human in on the conversation? The second thing Anduin noticed was that while Alexstraza may be the Queen of Dragons her Aspect companions had no problem voicing their opinions around her.

"If I may," Anduin couldn't help but pipe up, standing as tall as he could, hiding his shaking hands behind his back. He had just interrupted borderline gods. All eyes turned to him. As much as Kalecgos was sticking up for Wrathion, Anduin hated to see the dragons fight. "Yesterday, a fire broke out in a town we were visiting. While Wrathion could not be hurt by the fire he went to great lengths to ensure the safety of everyone affected. I believe that given the proper guidance and mentorships from great beings such as yourself and being taught that he is better than his father, he will shape up the way you wish him to, rather than the way you fear he will."

Alexstraza leaned so she met Anduin at eye level. All the malice and fear in her gaze was gone. "Will you vouch for the drake in question?" She asked gently.

Anduin reached up and set a hand on her snout. "Absolutely, we all can help guide him. Azeroth needs a Earth Warder and Wrathion is a solid choice."

"Prove that Rheastrasza's sacrifices were not in vain." Kalecgos spoke.

Alexstraza looked between her friends. She turned to Nozdormu, "what about you?"

"I had to forgive myssself for a future of my fall to the madness that will never come to be. Thisss one deserves the sssame forgivenesssss."

Alexstraza nodded. "Very well, Wrathion, step forward."

Wrathion, clearly hiding his excitement behind cool red eyes, stepped onto a central ring filled with sparkling stars. "Although we may not be the Titans, we have the power to proclaim a new Aspect in the event that one falls. I, Alexstraza will see to it that this Drake becomes everything that his father chose not to be. Kalecgos, present your gifts."

Anduin had the cold realization that he was about to witness the ascension of a God yet something kept him from moving at all so as to give the gods some privacy. Yet it felt like he glued to the floor

Kalecgos stepped into the circle with Wrathion. "We have no ability to grant you the power we were disrupted by the titans, not alone but together we all may impart our wisdom and wishes onto you, granting you the power you will need to lead what is left of your kin," Kalecgos said. "My gift, as the youngest Aspect prior to you, is perseverance, strength, and wisdom. May it guide you during the seasons ahead." The dragons, with Kalecgos having to crouch almost to reach butted heads affectionately. Both muttering small words inaudible and in Draconic before Kalecgos stepped away.

Ysera came next; "before we became the Aspects, Alexstraza, Nozdormu, Neltharion, Malygos and myself all had to face trials. But never did we face them alone. My gifts to you are friendship, love, and hope. May you surround yourself in friends and family who care about you as deeply as you care about them." Again soft words and a headbutt was exchanged before Ysera stepped back.

Anduin suddenly noticed Ysera didn't need to crouch as much to reach Wrathion's level. He had about doubled in size since his exchange with Kalecgos.

Anduin watched as he grew in size again before Nozdormu stepped forward. "In my own time, I have sssseen timelines where the world was destroyed and rebuilt many times. With my gift I give you patience, judgment and justice. Sssome times it takes patience to see the correct course of action. Yet sssome ssssituations require immediate action. It is up to you to decide what to do and when to do it."

Nozdormu had to crouch down the least so far. They were also close enough now that Anduin could make out what they were saying. He understood some basic Draconic as part of the princely work he had studied many languages, Draconic being one. "May the future bring you fortune." Nozdormu purred.

"And you, brother." Wrathion replied. Anduin suspected the other exchanges had been similar.

Alexstraza stepped forward. "I'll admit I have my concerns, and yet, so did the titans when appointing us as Aspects. With my gift, I bestow to you Clarity, Loyalty, and the love of a mother. May you always think of the struggles of another before yourself and feel the wrath of a mother directed at those who threaten the ones you hold close." Alexstraza had to lean down more than the others only because of her size compared to Wrathion, not because he stopped growing.

Alexstraza, to Anduin's shock and awe, turned to Anduin, "The one who vouches for new Aspect may provide a gift if you wish."

"If not, he isss a fully functional Assspect now. You will not harm him by refusing." Nozdormu added.

"I think I can do something." Anduin said taking Alexstraza's place. "With my gifts, I wish to bestow you with Curiosity, Mercy and Trust. May you forever know that your friends are true to you and share your excitement for life's new adventures." Wrathion smiled and bowed his head to meet Anduins outstretched hand.

"Thank you." Wrathion whispered in Common.

"I am just happy I can give something valuable."

"You have given more than enough."

"Wrathion!" Alexstraza announced from her pedestal, "henceforth you shall be known as Wrathion the Earth Warder. May you always respect Azeroth for all the beauties it has to offer." She smiled at him, "welcome to the Aspects."

Chapter 9: Ascension

"Welcome to the Aspects." Alexstraza purred. Before Wrathion could respond, Wrathion's vision went black.

"Anduin." The white-and-gray wolfman that had accompanied King Wrynn to the Tavern in the Mists addressed a slightly older Anduin, just a handful of years from his present form. "We need to talk."

"Sure Genn. What is it you need?" Anduin looked up from where he had been studying a map of an unknown region intently. The white brick walls decorated with blue implied the exchange was taking place in Stormwind Keep. "What happened at Broken Shore?" The prince continued.

"We were decimated." Genn snarled, "our losses were monstrous."

"That... is not what we anticipated. Heavy resistance I take it?" Anduin tilted his head in concern. "Where is my father?"

"I... that's what I needed to discuss with you." Genn swallowed and glanced around as if looking for someone else to take this responsibility from him. "King Varian Wrynn... is dead."

Anduin stared blankly at Greymane, his jaw tightening. "Excuse me?" His eyes narrowed and his voice was dangerously quiet.

"He died to protect what was left of the attack force. I only survived because of his sacrifice." Graymane continued.

Anduin looked at the floor. "There was only supposed to be limited casualties, that's what Wrathion promised us."

"Well, maybe Wrathion was wrong!" Genn snapped, deep blue eyes flaring in anger. He took a moment to collect himself, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have shouted, I know you deeply respect the Black dragon but he was wrong about this and our army was destroyed because of him."

Anduin hissed his face contorted as he tried to control his emotions. "This is the legion's fault, not Wrathion's!" He shouted back.

"He abandoned you Anduin, whatever thing you had with him is over now!" Genn was clearly not fond of Wrathion and Wrathion supposed that was fair, but he had no intention of leading Varian into a trap. He had no quarrel with the human king and even less so with Anduin.

Anduin sighed heavily and hid his face behind his hands. "Leave me now Graymane, we'll worry about coronation some other time."

Genn went quiet then. Setting a hand on Anduin's shoulder. "I am sorry." He murmured. "I lost someone close to me too today."

"This is hard for everyone but I need to process." Genn hesitated for a second too long, causing Anduin's patience to thin. "Leave!" He demanded. Genn's ears flattened and he backed away and closed to door.

Now alone Anduin let out a sob.

Wrathion was jerked back into reality nearly violently. He felt that he was in human form, and laying on the floor of Wyrmrest temple he supposed. He felt a gentle soft pulsing beside him and cracked open an eye to look around.

Anduin crouched beside him, light dancing around his palm, causing the warm pulsing through his body. He looked gravely concerned. Wrathion, remembering his vision flinched away. "I'm sorry." He mumbled even though nothing had happened since his vision had begun. The other Aspects watched him calmly. "He wakes mortal," Nozdormu said somewhere to Wrathion's side. Anduin, reluctantly, stood and backed away.

"The ascension to an Aspect triggers powerful visions for the new Aspect, it helps guide them where nothing else could," Alexstraza explained. "His vision was deeply emotional it seems."

"What makes you say that?" Wrathion hissed from the floor as he pushed himself up into a sitting position.

"Wrathion! You're okay!" Anduin cheered and threw his arms around Wrathion's neck. "I was so worried I had hurt you by accident." He breathed so only Wrathion could hear his confession. Wrathion flushed a little, butterflies erupting in his belly from the simple act of being this close to Anduin. To feel his cold arms against the skin of Wrathion's neck. He nuzzled warmly into Anduin, grateful that his vision could still be prevented.

"I'm sorry," Wrathion said again. His gut-wrenching with the pain of knowing he had caused Anduin so much distress. Even if it was far in the future. "I'm so sorry."

Anduin chuckled, much to Wrathion's surprise, "So long as you're okay, no hard feelings!" He said with such a childlike excitement Wrathion couldn't help but smile back at the young human. He felt better the butterflies still gnawing at his stomach but the dread seemed to evaporate. Wrathion wanted to lean in and... he wasn't really sure what, he had no words for it. Dragons rarely expressed affections through words or small actions. Between dragons, such emotions were usually communicated through pheromones or large deeds and favors.

Anduin seemed to understand though, "Later." He promised, "when we don't have gods staring at us." Wrathion grinned at him, something about Anduin's acknowledgment of Wrathion's feelings and requited them was a pleasant comfort. One that warmed his whole chest and fuzzed away his thoughts, and the sting of the vision.

Once Wrathion took his place again, the meeting continued and while Wrathion stopped paying attention to the others at some point, he got a chance to plan what he would do now that he was and Aspect.

Well, for one thing, he was going to pick out a lair for himself and connect the Wyrmrest portal to it. That would be way better than living inside a volcano, he hated that place. After that, he wasn't really sure. He hadn't thought Alexstraza would say yes to his proposal in the first place so he hadn't gotten his hopes up. Maybe he would check in with Magni.

Magni was the literal champion of Azeroth, he had been a dwarf named Magni Bronzebeard before he had become made of diamond to protect all of the world for the rest of eternity. As Earth Warder Wrathion and Magni needed to get along at least well enough to get their jobs done.

The meeting ended before he could plot anything else. He went to walk out and let Anduin climb on outside but Kalecgos beat him and padded beside him. "Wrathion? May I have a moment?" The Spell Weaver asked.

"After everything you've done for me today, you may have as many as you need," Wrathion replied, stopping to speak with the Blue dragon. Anduin paused beside Wrathion and waited patiently.

"Forgive me for the intrusion," Kalecgos began. "I have been studying the growth cycles of dragons, more specifically, black dragons and I noticed you seemed... uncomfortable in your own scales. This leads me to believe that you have developed significantly since we last met in a very short amount of time."

"Okay..." Wrathion tilted his head at Kalecgos.

"I believe that because of how large Deathwing got, both physically and how far spread his name was, dragons grow based on what feelings they stir inside the hearts of others."

"What do you mean?" Wrathion blinked slowly at the older dragon.

"I mean, that because everyone ever feared Deathwing, he became massive as he fed off of that. However, the rest of us Aspects are not as widely known by the mortal population and a majority of our body size is because of our respect for each other. Recently, you came in contact with a group of humans that feel very strongly about you, and then you received the respect of the other Aspects making you multiply in size today."

Wrathion nodded, "Makes more sense than the gold theory anyways." Wrathion replied, "why are you telling me this?"

"Well, as with mortals going through adolescence, it helps to know why your body is reacting the way it is."

"Are you telling me I hit puberty?" Wrathion half-joked. Kalecgos seriously could not be implying that, right?

"Well you are grown it's more of a physical change than a psychological one," Kalecgos replied with a shrug of sorts. "But that's all I wanted to speak with you about. Congratulations on your accession!"

Wrathion stared after the Blue with a mix of shock and irritation. Weird thing to tell a new aspect. Especially since he was larger the Spell Weaver now, if only just. "Well... that's awkward." Anduin spoke from besides Wrathion.

"Seriously." Wrathion agreed. "Weird dude."

"I think he's trying to be nice but isn't sure what to do with you," Anduin replied, climbing on as Wrathion crouched. "Onwards, noble steed! To the Tavern!" Anduin echoed Wrathion's statement from before. Wrathion rolled his eyes but with a powerful beat of his wings he was airborne and taking off towards home.

Chapter 10: Confession

The rest of the evening for Anduin had gone by peacefully. He had spent most of it reading his tome of holy studies on Wrathion's fluffy reading chair on the balcony. A thick leather-bound book full of spells for Anduin to learn and to start practicing lay in his lap. Little did the instructor who assigned him the work know, Anduin had already mastered most of the techniques enclosed within. The art of using the Light had always come easily to the young human. Nonetheless, Anduin had dutifully spent a few hours studying.

Wrathion, on the other hand, looked borderline distressed all evening. Pacing between the same three rooms for at least an hour. Leaning on the banister and staring out into the sunset for less than thirty seconds before he was pacing again. At first, Anduin had taken it for residual excitement from the ceremony earlier that morning but the sun had long since set and Anduin had taken his studying into the room for the night, Wrathion was still wearing footprints into the wooden floor. Spending as much time as he could in human form Anduin had noticed.

Anduin tried to stay diligent in his study but now that he rested propped up on an elbow under the warm covers of his bed Wrathion was much more in view and Anduin couldn't help but watch how the dragon moved. His hair was all over the place thanks to how many times Wrathion had run his hand through the black curls. His red eyes were nearly dull with how much raw emotion he had endured during the day. Anduin understood. More than Wrathion could ever know. Anduin had always had a knack for understanding the struggles of others. Depending on how strong the emotions were Anduin could focus on that person's words or actions and feel as though he was walking beside them through their emotional journey. A bonus for his priestly duties but not required, and sometimes it bit him in the ass.

When Anduin's mother had died, Anduin had felt the pain twice over, once for his own grief and then again because of his father's pain.

Wrathion's struggle was so intense the emotional waves washed over Anduin without the priest having to focus at all, however, without Anduin's attention all he got was a jumbled mess so distorted that he couldn't even tell what was useful information and what wasn't. Though he suspected Wrathion was equally as incoherent. "Wrathion." Anduin said finally, setting his tome on the trunk at the foot of the bed, "come here."

"Can't. Sit. Still." Wrathion bit out like words were hard for him.

"I know, but I can help," Anduin assured him. Wrathion looked strangely at the priest but willed himself over to the side of Anduin's bed. "Sit down." Anduin gestured to a spot beside him, "and face me." Wrathion followed instructions and gazed at Anduin with an expression Anduin couldn't quite place. Something akin to hunger was the closest he could get to describing it.

"What makes you think you can help me?" Wrathion asked. "I don't mean to be like mean or anything I'm just curious."

"Priests are known to bring peace to those who have been through unimaginable strife. I am trained to help alleviate what ails you." Anduin replied, his voice soft. "Just relax, and tell me anything that comes to mind."

Wrathion grunted as though he was better than ranting but quickly fell to it. "I don't expect you to believe me but I have always wanted to take my father's place as Earth Warder but now that I have it... quite frankly, I'm scared out of my wits."

"What are you scared of?"

"Becoming my father. I literally have the weight of the whole world on my shoulders and I'm afraid I'm going to be what everyone thinks I will become."

Anduin smiled at his friend, "Not everyone believes that of you. I would not have vouched for you had I thought that to be your path." Wrathion gave Anduin a rather vulnerable expression in reply. One Anduin had not thought Wrathion capable of. He always seemed so calm and apathetic about everything.

Wrathion swallowed thickly, "no one ever has before." He whispered. "Thank you for giving me a chance."

"The fact you are worrying about not becoming Deathwing proves already that you are better than him."

"I suppose." Wrathion yawned and shook himself back into his standard poker face. "But I have more immediate problems I guess. The world is not in any immediate danger I'll know when it is. My other concern is more of a question than a problem."

"Shoot."

"Well you mortal types seem to be obsessed about choosing gay or straight but why do I have to pick? Why can't I like both?"

Anduin understood that one, more than just his empathy he understood. "I'm with you. My father and the Worgen king are trying to set me up with girls. They're perfectly nice mind you, they just don't strike my fancy. Genn and my dad keep telling me we just haven't found 'the one' but I'm beginning to doubt I will."

"See that's the problem with being royalty, you're parents not only control everything but their shadow hangs over you forever no matter what you do!"

"Unless your name is Arthas." Anduin chided.

Arthas Menethil used to be a human paladin, and heir to the Lordaeron throne. Until the young paladin began to take a dark path. Once beloved by his kingdom Arthas, upon discovering of a plague outbreak in a city known as Stratholme, decided that the best course of action would be to slay all the inhabitants of the city to prevent the spread of the plague. He had later gone on to become the Lich King. Leader of the undead armies collectively called the Scourge. His father had all but been forgotten in the horrific wake of death in his son's actions. Though Arthas had been put down when Anduin was still relatively young.

"He doesn't count!" Wrathion purred. "He only outmatched his father because of a mass genocide! Neither of us is going down that route I hope."

Anduin smiled and pawed at his friend's black jacket. "I think you'd better keep an eye on me!" Anduin announced.

"You aren't going to-"

"I'm a known heartbreaker!" Anduin interrupted Wrathion's thought. Trying to lighten the mood some.

"Don't lie! You cant even walk up to anybody without getting nervous!" Wrathion retorted catching Anduin's hand in his own paws, having transformed just enough to not be holding Anduin's hand, to which the latter was slightly disappointed, but not enough to be stabbing the human with talons or scales.

Anduin smirked, pouncing lightly on the lithe male. "Yeah well, you talk a big game for someone who can't get another in bed with him!"

"Not true!" Wrathion slipped out of Anduin's grip and wrestled the taller boy into the mattress with surprising strength. Especially given how deliberate he had been so as not to hurt his play mate's bad leg.

Anduin wondered if Wrathion had ever had someone to do something as childish as play fight or to spend all night talking about whatever came to mind.

The soft gaze from the dragon implied no. Though Anduin hadn't really either, he had his dad but it was different to have a friend or sibling to share passions with on a level adults had a hard time understanding. "Oh? Now I'm curious, who have you ever taken to bed?" Anduin said finally.

"You." Wrathion puffed his chest proudly.

Anduin flushed a bright red at that. "Not the same!" Anduin hissed avoiding the dragon's eyes.

"For now." Wrathion purred, Anduin rolled his eyes but internally scolded himself for being so transparent about how he felt about Wrathion. Despite Wrathion being another man, a black dragon, kin of Onyxia who had delighted in emotionally tormenting Anduin and Varian, and Wrathion being on par with a god, Anduin was beginning to foster something of a crush on the Black Prince.

Despite Wrathion's flirting Anduin couldn't gauge how the dragon actually felt about him in return. The pair stared at one another for a nearly awkwardly long time. "May I do something totally insane?"

Wrathion tilted his head in confusion. "Sure." He agreed. "I do believe you told me you had something for me when away from prying eyes. I think we're away from anyone else."

Anduin grinned from ear to ear than. "Yes, I do." He leaned forward, much the same way that Wrathion had earlier and pressed their lips together.

Wrathion took a second to process what was happening but quickly began to follow Anduin's lead. As Wrathion returned the kiss, Anduin, despite his concerns about how quickly he had developed such strong feelings in such a short amount of time, forgot all of the things that were going on outside of the room or all the things he had to worry about. In that long moment, everything felt right with the world. Wrathion quickly grew impatient with the gentle nature of the exchange and began to experiment with his limits. Pressing down on Anduin just enough to get the human to lay back and allow Wrathion to loom over him like a predator about to deal the killing blow to prey.

But no pain came, instead, only more kisses and hushed laughs as the pair tried to figure out what they were trying to do. Wrathion's breathing and adjusting causing their bodies to press together, not in any weird way yet but just enough to excite Anduin from how new and different everything was. Every nerve he had was on fire and they were still fully clothed and not even doing anything that Anduin could get in trouble for. Sure he wasn't encouraged to go around kissing boys but he had no strict rule forbidding it. Anything farther than that though, if he was found out, while not likely still very possible Anduin let something slip he wasn't supposed, to his dad would be furious.

Either way, the boys had no real idea of what they were doing and thus wouldn't get very far short of one having something in mind to try.

It mattered not though because the door creaked open, causing Wrathion to roll away from Anduin, attempting to catch his breath before the intruder could see anything. "Will you two go to sleep?!" Left hissed from the doorway, "settle your differences tomorrow!" The door closed surprisingly softly after that leaving Wrathion and Anduin in the dark again.

"Well, I suppose that means we should split up for the night." Wrathion mused darkly.

"Aw, we don't have to! You can stay over here if you want." Anduin complained, trying to be quiet so as not to incur Left's wrath.

"I'll bother you all night," Wrathion replied going to stand up.

"No, you won't. Trust me." Anduin pawed sleepily at the dragon who sighed and took a seat on Anduin's unoccupied side of the bed.

"Don't say I didn't warn you." With that Wrathion settled down into the sheets, "and thanks, for vouching for me today. That means a lot more than you realize." and before Anduin could even react was snoring away. Anduin laughed to himself at how quickly Wrathion had dozed off, it had been a really long day for him it seemed. Anduin rolled over and closed his eyes allowing sleep to claim him.

Chapter 11: Nozdormu

Wrathion had no idea what to do now. Not only had Anduin confirmed that he shared Wrathion's affections for the other, but he had also taken the first move. As odd as he found the experience Wrathion had liked the intimacy and closeness with the human.

Which posed a number of problems because Wrathion was a dragon, not a mortal.

Not wanting to leave his questions unanswered and his wants swept under the rug he hefted himself up from Anduin's side before the sun rose the next morning and took off from the balcony, shifting into his true form during the jump and flapped powerful wings in an attempt to gain some height. He was still getting used to how large he had gotten. Before he got far from the tavern he noticed a small group of black shadows moving across the dry plains at the base of the mountains. Deciding to see if breakfast had come to him Wrathion swooped down to get a closer look.

To his surprise, he found an Alliance war party. Royal guards escorting the King himself to the base of the mountain. All of the human's eyes were on Wrathion as he descended to the ground in front of the party. "King Wrynn." Wrathion greeted, not feeling any need to bow before a mortal king.

Varian apparently felt the same about a dragon. "Greetings." Varian nodded politely at the dragon. "Forgive me for the intrusion, but I wished to do my first weekly report with Anduin in person."

It has not been a week.

Instead of commenting on this, Wrathion nodded, "Very well, though I request you forgive me for not being a very good host, I was just going to collect a meal before fetching Anduin and taking him with me to a meeting I must attend." Wrathion lied easily, he had been planning on going alone to this 'meeting' but this worked well as an excuse not to bring Anduin. "Though because of your visit I will entrust his safety with you and grant you some privacy." Wrathion continued. "Once you arrive at the tavern speak to the human woman with red hair, she will help you rouse the prince and ensure additional safety should you need it."

"Thank you." Varian nodded, listening intently. "When will you return?"

"No later than sundown." Wrathion estimated. Even if he wasn't finished with his mission by then he could make a pit stop for the night and continue his task in the morning.

"Very well. I will expect to see you then." Varian said Wrathion nodded and pushed off the earth again and floated above the human patrol who gazed up at him in awe, save Varian, as they passed under him. Many of the guards were young Wrathion noted, hardly older than Anduin so he supposed none had seen a true dragon before. Though he did notice wolfman and a man with short red hair beside Varian who only spared Wrathion the cautious glance. Once they had passed Wrathion beat his wings and went soaring across the land. He did manage to snatch a wild oxen herd for breakfast before he began his flight to Southern Kalimdor.

***

Wrathion, now that he was big enough to fly long distances in a timely and safe manner, found it silly to take the boats if he was going alone, despite the near-instant translocation the ships provided, it was infinitely more rewarding, and only a slight bit longer, to fly. Plus he got to fill up on fish as he went.

It was maybe an hour before he felt the heat of Kalimdor wash over his scales. It took only a moment more before he saw the small huddle of mountains the marked the home of the Bronze Dragonflight. He landed in the center of a ruined clearing. Clock towers lay scattered half-buried in the sand in the small mesa that was hidden in the center of the mountains. Which in no way gave away their depth.

"Halt!" A voice called from beside Wrathion. Begrudgingly, he followed instructions, he knew his flight had a reputation for destruction so to stop a black dragon was not totally uncalled for. That and most dragons of separate flights were questioned before being granted entry, for safety's sake. A smaller Bronze Drake glided over to the intruder calmly. She looked younger than Wrathion in body but her eyes revealed her age was well beyond that. "What brings you to the Caverns of Time?" The Drake asked.

"I am to speak with Nozdormu." Wrathion replied evenly.

"Is he expecting you?"

"I don't believe Aspects have to book appointments with one another." Wrathion retorted. He did like being able to fall back on that to help him appear more confident than he felt.

The Drake blinked at him a few times. "Very well. You'll find him in the heart of the mountain." With a single beat of her wings she was out of his way, returning to circle her route above the mesa.

"Thank you." Wrathion grunted and glided through the narrow archway into the Caverns. The descent went down for miles and was heavily decorated with stars and otherworldly things. Finally rounding the corner from one of the main twisting tunnels Wrathion flew into a clearing. This one had hallways branching off it at random intervals. In it's center was a huge circular platform with a massive working golden hourglass centered on it. Sitting in front of the hourglass was the huge bronze Aspect. He sat, making him nearly as tall as the hourglass which reached the roof of the cavern many miles up from the floor. Had he been standing on two paws the Aspect would be large enough to burst through the roof of this chamber and into the mountain itself. With Dragons generally about halfing their height when they moved from sitting to four paws and doubling their height moving from sitting to standing on two paws.

Golden eyes flicked up to the newcomer as soon as Wrathion entered. "Wrathion." Nozdormu tilted his head at the young Aspect. "What brings you to the Cavernsss of Time ssso sssoon?"

"I seek an auidence with you if you have some time."

"Time isss a mortal concept." Nozdormu replied. "Ssso long as I draw breath, I will have time."

Wrathion took a second to process his words. "I see." Wrathion eyed the other bronze dragons around the room. "Is there anywhere we can go that will be more private? It is not a conversation I wish to have in front of strangers."

The Bronze Aspect nodded, and the world went golden for a second before they were in a completely empty version of the Cavern. Nozdormu stretched his wings idely. "I do not sssense a dire disturbance with the mortals for another ssseveral ssseasons. What bothers you so?"

"I wanted to ask you to glimpse into the future for me."

"While I understand what you are asking of me, what isss it you ssseek?"

"I want to pursue a relationship with a mortal and I need you're advice on how to get the best probable outcome."

Nozdormu stared at Wrathion for a while. "Well, you know as well as I do what you will have to do to thisss 'mortal'. You will be responsible, at least in hisss mind, for the death of hisss father."

"Is there any way I can avoid that?"

"Not that I can sssee." Nozdormu replied gently, his voice dropping in volume. "I know thisss is going to be hard for you to accept but I advise you to leave the idea of a mortal consort behind."

"Why?"

"Mortalsss do not have the lifespan we do. They will die a thousand timesss over before we even begin to feel age. They cannot escape time."

"Time is a social construct made by mortals!" Wrathion echoed.

"But it isss one that will claim you're friend in what, to you, is a blink of an eye." Nozdormu growled, with no malice in his voice, he was just trying to get through to Wrathion. "He will die before you can truly begin to love him."

Chapter 12: Kalecgos

Wrathion left the Caverns of Time more uneasy than he had arrived. Nozdormu spoke sense of course but surely there had to be a way for it to work for everyone?

Who can I ask for such a specific question? He growled to himself flying in a random direction to try and get the wind to soothe him and cool his head.

It wasn't until Wrathion felt the stinging cold of Winterspring that the dragon realized exactly who he needed to speak to. Kalecgos was very much in a romantic relationship with a human named Jaina Proudmoore. Who in turn was also a powerful spell caster.

With newfound determination Wrathion flew to the continent of Northrend reaching the Nexus, entrance to The Eye of Eternity, within the hour. Again he was stopped at the entrance but this time by a huge male. One Wrathion recognized from the Accord the day before. This one had been one of Kalecgos' companions the day before. Senegos was his name Wrathion believed. "State your business." The dragon ordered sleepily.

"I wish to speak to the Spell-Weaver."

"He is expecting you in the Eye of Eternity." The dragon replied, wandering away.

Once Wrathion arrived at a tiny blue orb in the center of a floating circular platform he placed his paw on it and blinked. Opening his eyes into space void of anything but stars and a blue and white platform under him. Kalecgos stood before him as well. "Wrathion." The greeting was friendly. "I figured you'd have some questions."

"Not about what you'd expect." Wrathion replied.

"You would be surprised about what I expected you to come to me about." Kalecgos smiled toothily at him. The dragon beckoned him forward, pushing off the ledge and gliding off into space.

Wrathion followed, despite his uncertainty about Kalecgos, which was mostly due to their last conversation. It felt good to soar through space. It looked endless but the air was crisp and cool and he began to see that stars in the sky were networks of platforms and studios. Some proved to be lairs as the pair flew past and others still were full of tomes and ink and parchment. "I'll race you to the farthest platform over there." Wrathion challenged the older dragon. Among creatures so magnificent as Wyrms and even as primitive as Proto-Drakes, racing was a fun competition that the extremes of either species could take part in just as easily as anyone else.

"You challenge me in my own realm?" Kalecgos laughed. "Good luck!" Wrathion beat his wings with intent now that Kalecgos had accepted his challenge and set off towards the platform. He could hear Kalecgos catching up behind him and pushed harder.

Just as Wrathion made it to the platform the other blue dragon swept forward and touched down first. "That's cheating!" Wrathion growled, amused that Kalecgos would have lost had it not been for his familiarity with the area.

"No it's not!" The Blue replied, "it would have been cheating had I froze you!"

Wrathion smiled. "True enough I suppose."

The pair set off again and flew in silence for a long while. "You have questions regarding your mortal companion. What is it you wish to know?" Kalecgos broke the silence finally.

Wrathion was surprised at Kalecgos' foresight. He explained to the Blue the situation he had with Anduin and while he was sure Kalecgos knew most of it already judging by his knowledge of Wrathion's mission, Kalecgos listened to him. "Nozdormu told me that because mortals age much faster than dragons, that it wasn't worth investing time and effort into."

"Well, on some level, he's right. But because of how short-lived they are, mortals love much more fiercely than say another dragon." Kalecgos said, "and besides many mortals can live past their average amount of years thanks to advancements in magic and technology. Khadgar is thought to be, somewhere in Outland, over a thousand years old. So it is not to say they are doomed to die young. High prophet Velen was fully grown when the Burning Legion attacked Argus and still lives thousands of years later to tell about it.

"But Velen is a Draenei, they can live for a quarter of a millennium." Wrathion pointed out.

"But more importantly, he's a priest and he takes care of himself and those around him." Kalecgos said, "some Draenei waste away before they reach 100 because of the negligence of themselves much the way humans do."

"What does Anduin being a priest have to do with it?"

"Priests can bring even the old and sickly back into their stronger days, extremely powerful ones can undo the damage done by time if the need arises."

"You think Anduin is that powerful?"

"I think he has the potential to be." Kalecgos thought for a moment before he spoke again, "and if you are getting into it and are worried about it I do know of something that can help perhaps."

"What is it?"

"If a time comes when you are ready to be Anduin's mate then I shall tell you."

Wrathion shot a glance at Kalecgos. "Mate?"

"Humans, in particular, tend to be fond of monogamy. They do not like to share their prizes." Kalecgos explained, "Anduin if he is invested in this as well, is in it for a mate and partner, not someone he loves to sleep around as he pleases."

"We can't even reproduce together what do you mean mate?" Wrathion tried to keep the barb out of his voice but he wasn't sure what Kalec was getting at.

"Humans generally share their lives with their partner, unlike us who have a small harem of consorts, they tend to stay with their partners whether they can reproduce together or not." Wrathion turned this information over in his head a few times. "Besides humans and dragons both are incredibly sexual creatures, whether or not you can bear offspring is irrelevant that the act of mating is something that is likely to happen."

"Wait how...?" Wrathion was struggling to picture that. "We don't have... I'm a dragon and-"

"You would need to stay in human form but yes, it could work." Wrathion still must have looked as confused as he felt because Kalecgos continued, "do you know how humans reproduce?"

"They-" Wrathion scoured his brain. He had never really thought to care about information such as mortal mating rituals before. "The same thing we do, just on a smaller scale?"

Kalecgos shrugged. "Sort of. But they don't do eggs. Now think about how that happens and try and figure out how that would work between two males."

Wrathion had an image rush into his mind. One that shocked him nearly out of the air. Anduin was- "Sounds really painful." Wrathion grunted trying to hide the weird mesh of emotions the image stirred up in him.

"Humans are more clever than you give them credit for." Kalecgos replied lightly.

"But you just told me I'm barely getting to be an adult in size, what if, how does that work? I can't go telling people the prince is sleeping with a dragon whelp."

"No of course not." Kalecgos agreed. "But age in years is a mortal tracking device. Dragons age in maturity and size instead. You were an adult long before yesterday and now your size reflects that."

"I see." Wrathion hummed to himself. "So... you're with a human, right?"

"I've been with humans for a very long time, yes." Kalecgos replied.

"Do you think it's a waste of time?" Wrathion asked the question hounding at him since Nozdormu.

"Not at all." Kalecgos said firmly. "Being with a human forces you to live. Humans spend every day doing things that matter most to them because they don't have the time that we have to sleep for millennia. Every moment matters to them and that's important to remember when dealing with them, even non-romantically. But the important question to ask yourself is, do you think it's a waste of time?"

Chapter 13: Return of the King

A sharp jab to the side brought Anduin into consciousness. 

"Your father wishes to speak with you." Right said once Anduin lifted his head sleepily to acknowledge Right's prodding.

"Uh, okay." Anduin slurred, "I'll be down in a minute." what in the world is dad doing here?

Anduin realize, not only because of the emptiness in his bed but the fact that Right was waking him implied Wrathion had found better things to do.Which hurt Anduin's feelings he had to admit. He had thought that maybe, just maybe, Wrathion and Anduin could have been a thing, found hope and comfort and friendship and happiness with each other. He was wrong it seemed. He forced the thought aside and collected himself, changing into a more presentable clothing choice. Anduin staggered down the steps and, while he shouldn't have been, was surprised at Varian's presence at the table in the center of the ground floor. "Hey, Dad." Anduin greeted cheerfully, hiding his other concerns behind a smile.

"Anduin," Varian replied, his tone was friendly, he was not prone to showing his affections the way Anduin was, but he tried his best. "Come have a seat, tell me how the last days have been."

Anduin sat at the table across from his father. "I've had a lot of fun!" Anduin began without thinking. "We got to go to the Wyrmrest Accord and Wrathion became a full Aspect! It was amazing!"

Varian blinked a few times. "Wrathion is now the Earth Warder?" He sounded like he didn't believe it.

"Yes." Anduin nodded, choosing to leave out his own part of the meeting. He went on for a long time about all his recent adventures, save the ones he knew better than to tell until the sun set behind the mountains.

"I'm glad you've been having fun but listen, we have to go home now, I can't trust the kin of Onyxia with my only son. You know how much you mean to me."

Anduin grimaced at that, he shouldn't have been reluctant to leave the Tavern given Wrathion's seeming abandonment, but he was. "Dad you already agreed to this with him. I know you're worried but I'll be fine. I've cheered up a lot since I got out here. Velen was right."

"Yes but-"

"Dad I'm only going to get worse if I come home now. I love you I promise I do but I need some time to come into myself."

Varian sighed and looked at the ground. "I know things have been tough since your mom passed but-"

"It's gotten worse lately dad, you know how paranoid I was getting before we set this up and honestly I had good reason to be, if Garrosh finds me, I'm dead, there are no more chances, no more taking prisoners with him. He's going to kill me if he gets the chance. Let me stay up here until this calms down and Garrosh is dealt with, then I can come home with you."

"What are we talking about?" A thundering voice rattled the building and Wrathion, in human form, landed neatly on the doorstep. Without a word, or even really a glance at Anduin the dragon came and sat beside the prince at the table. Ignoring how Anduin’s eyes were immediately glued to the dragon, he seemed, different somehow, happier and more confident. Anduin wasn’t even sure if he could call it a facade because of how easily Wrathion carried it.

"So kind of you to join us." Varian deadpanned. "How did your meeting go?"

Meeting? What meeting?

"About the same as all meetings go," Wrathion replied, "has Anduin shown you Jihui? Great game, tells you a lot about your opponent."

"Really? Do you play poker?" Varian asked, a playful glint in his eye

"You don't want to challenge a dragon to poker, you can never read them." Anduin smiled.

"Well true, but yes. I play." Wrathion agreed. "Right would you get me my cards please?" Right handed him the deck of leather-bound cards with gems woven in that served as the number or pattern for the card. "Do either of your friends play?" Wrathion signaled to Genn Graymane outside the tavern.

"Genn does, yes." Varian answered good-natured, "Shaw cheats."

"Can I play?" Anduin asked sheepishly, he had of course seen the adults play the game but had never previously old enough, or driven enough, to play with them, but if Wrathion was going to, maybe the dragon would spare Anduin a glance then.

"Sure." Both men said. "Genn! Come play cards with us!" Varian called out to the Worgen who happily joined the others at the table. Anduin set his hands on either side of him on the bench while Wrathion shuffed and dealt.

Much to Anduin's surprise, just before the game started, Wrathion's unoccupied hand curled around Anduin's on the bench. They exchanged a look and a small smile before the game begun. Out of the corner of his eye Anduin noticed Varian’s eyes had softened and his smile was much more relaxed and genuine.

***

Some hours passed and the royal guard was planning to head out. Anduin with them Anduin assumed due to not having heard anything different from his father. "See you later?" Anduin asked Wrathion quietly at the top of the stairs, wanting to have Wrathion acknowledge him before he began to pack his stuff.

"Absolutely," Wrathion replied, a swift kiss was shared, much to Anduin's surprise before Wrathion vacated the space to allow his guests to move about.

Varian came up the stairs behind Anduin, startling him, he didn't think his father had seen anything but wasn't sure. "Anduin. I thought about what you said." Varian began, "and I will permit you to stay longer."

Anduin felt his eyes light up. "Really?!"

Varian smiled and nodded, "yes, you are the happiest I've seen you since your mother died and... I think we finally found someone you'd be interested in taking as a suitor. Albeit that will be a ways in the future and some negotiations to be had but you remind me of myself when I was young and first starting to fall in love with your mother." Varian lost himself to thought for a moment. "You will have to return home at some point, but I will allow you to stay until Garrosh is dealt with. If you need to come home sooner you need only say so."

Anduin was delighted, "thank you so much, dad!" He didn't even mind that Varian had implied Wrathion and Anduin might be married someday. For now all that mattered was that his father had agreed to let him stay. "You won't regret it!"

"I know I won't," Varian replied, smiling, before turning to Wrathion, who had faded into a dark corner save his glowing red eyes which gave him away. "Thank you, for your hospitality young Wrathion, we will be speaking again soon I should think."

With that, Varian and his troops were gone, leaving Wrathion and Anduin alone at the top of the stairs.

[kutemouse]

Not-A-Date Date with Jimin

Disclaimer: The images from my header belong to BigHit and BTS, but I edited them together.

Age Recommendation: 16+

Warnings: Angsty fluff... I mean, it’s just a coffee date. Jimin’s still a vampy asshole. Swears?

Word Count: 1,627

Preview: And with that, I left you sitting speechless, your coffee not even half-gone. My stomach rumbled once more, and I clutched it, feeling the hunger roil through me like a monster all its own. “Soon,” I thought. “Very soon.”

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

Jimin’s POV

I spotted you before you spotted me. I took a draw from my coffee cup, swallowing the liquid that would warm my body and put some color in my cheeks so I’d look a little more human. Your gaze locked onto me and I appreciated the way you did a bit of a double-take. I’d let you know this was casual, but I’d dressed up a little more than I had for our last encounter. I wore tight black slacks with a belt, a collared white shirt which I’d neatly tucked in, the top few buttons undone just enough to catch your, and everyone else’s, attention.

You, in turn, wore jean capris with rips and tears along the legs, white sneakers, and a loose, black v-neck that stayed modestly above your breast line. So cute. So innocent.

“Hi,” you said, a bit out of breath as you slid into the seat across from me.

“Hello.”

“You already ordered?” you said pointedly.

“Yes, but get whatever you want. It’s on me.”

“It better be,” you grumbled, getting up to order from the barista.

It had been quite the hassle getting you here, despite the fact I’d sworn up and down this wouldn’t be a date when I texted you.

Me: It’ll be more of a hanging out, getting-to-know-you thing I promise

You: I still have no idea why you want to “get to know me” in the first place

Me: Let me show you why. You don’t trust me? Fine. I’ll prove to you I don’t have any motive other than to find out more about you.

You took a long time to reply, leaving me on read for a good 24 hours before finally responding.

You: Fine. Coffee tomorrow. 3:30.

I had no idea what made you finally agree. You seemed dead-set on keeping your distance from me, but here we were. Technically, I didn’t lie. I wasn’t going to try anything during this meet-up. I truly wanted to get to know you. If you were going to be my main meal for the next however-long, I needed to know you were the type that wouldn’t get yourself into any trouble. And by trouble, I mean drugs, excessive drinking, sleeping with anyone other than me… I wanted your blood to be as pure as possible for my maximum pleasure.

You sat back down, a large iced coffee in your hand, glaring at me. You looked annoyed, but I could see through you. You were cautious, yet hopeful. Naive, but not to the point where you became a cliche. For me, it was the perfect mixture.

“So, I’m guessing you have a couple hours before work, right?”

“Are you stalking me now?” you said, rolling your eyes and biting down on your straw. I briefly wondered if you had an oral fixation and how fun it would be to exploit that.

“Not at all. Just guessing judging by your occupation.”

“Yeah, right.”

I leaned forward, locking our gazes together, causing you to stiffen. “Listen y/n… I’m here because I want to be. Do you think you could tone down the hostility a bit?”

You looked away and I caught a trace of guilt before you sighed. “Fine. I just… why am I here, Jimin?”

“It’s like I said, I want to get to know you better.”

“But why?” The words came out as more of a whine than a question. Cute.

“Because you caught my interest,” I said. Your expression changed then, going from pouty to almost a smile. Got you.

“Listen,” I continued. “Let’s play a game, shall we? I’ll ask a question, then you ask a question, and so on until you feel more comfortable with me.”

You nodded, taking another sip from your coffee.

“I’ll start. Are you a university student?”

You shook your head, the straw sliding out of your pretty mouth before you replied. “No. I wish. Tuition is… well, I’m saving up to afford it. That’s why I’m working so much.”

“Can’t your parents help out?”

“They aren’t really around… and that’s two questions,” you said, pointing a finger at me.

I chuckled. “You can ask me two questions then.”

You thought for a second before asking, “What do you do for work?”

“What do you think I do for work?”

You gave me another eye-roll. I was beginning to live for those. “It’s my turn to ask the questions, remember?”

I sat back, amusement making the corners of my mouth turn up. “I partially own a company that retains a large number of hotels and resorts around the world.”

“Partially own?”

“Yeah. My six childhood friends and I started the company together.”

“Six? Wow, I don’t even know if I have a whole six friends, let alone a group that I’ve known since I was a kid,” you said.

I chuckled once more. I was truly enjoying myself. Normally I’d have to fake my laughs and interest, but you were like a breath of fresh air compared to the usual company I kept. You were bold, blunt, sarcastic, and rude, and I can’t remember the last time I had to chase my prey this much. I hoped you’d be just as entertaining when you found out the truth about me.

“I somehow don’t believe that,” I said, reaching out to put my hand over yours. I stared into your eyes, delighting in the way your cheeks flushed pink. “You seem very personable to me.”

You scoffed, awkwardly sliding your hand from mine and hiding it under the table. “If you consider me personable, you really don’t know me at all.”

“Which is why we’re here… so I can get to know you.”

“Are you sure?” you asked abruptly. “I mean… I think it’s nice you’re taking me out for coffee and everything, and I liked how you didn’t push the whole date thing on me again… but why me? I mean, you could have any girl you wanted… why me?”

It was clear you weren’t going to let this go. I guess it was time for me to come clean. “Well, I do have a slightly ulterior motive for asking you here, but in my defense, I was going to wait until later to talk to you about this.”

You threw me a look of pure disgust. “I knew it.”

“Hear me out,” I protested, leaning towards you once more. “My company, Bangtan Enterprises, is looking to expand its interests.”

Your look changed from disdain to confusion. “And what does that have to do with me?”

I leaned in even closer and lowered my voice almost to a whisper. “This is top secret information. You have to promise me you won’t tell anyone else about this… except those whom I tell you to.”

You leaned in towards me as well. “I promise,” you said, your tone mocking but your eyes curious.

“Bangtan Enterprises is planning on opening a nightclub in the abandoned warehouse just a couple blocks from here.”

“Really?”

“Yes. We want to improve this part of town, and thought a nightclub would bring enough high-end clientele to swing the economy upward a bit.”

“Oh, so it’s purely philanthropic,” you said, smirking. “Gotcha.”

You hardly sounded convinced. I sighed. “Well, if people with more money come here and spend it, they will stay for a while and spend it in places like stores, markets, and then other places could start opening up, like boutiques and shops-”

“Alright, I get it,” you huffed. “But once again, how does a nightclub involve me?”

“I need a bartender,” I said simply, taking another sip of coffee. “And you’re my number one candidate.”

“What, why?”

Not going to lie, your constant need to know the reasoning behind everything I did was starting to grow tiresome. “Because you fit the personality of the club. You’re very pretty which will attract more customers, and you don’t take shit from people. You’re tough, you’ll be able to handle any pretentious assholes who come your way.”

You shook your head in disbelief, biting down on your lip cutely. I wondered how good you’d taste if it were me biting it instead. “You haven’t seen much of my actual bartending skills, though,” you said after a beat.

“I’ll train you if necessary,” I said, waving your insecurities off. I wouldn’t let you find an excuse to wiggle out of this opportunity. “And I’ll pay you double your salary.”

“Double?” you gasped.

“Double.”

“But… but what about Sejin? I can’t just leave him,” you said weakly.

“Sejin? You mean the owner of the bar you currently work at?”

You nodded.

“The same bar that will be closing soon because someone has hired him as the manager of a new nightclub?”

Your mouth parted in surprise. “Are you serious?”

“Yes. He’ll be your boss there too,” I said, throwing you a smile. “He highly recommends you, you know.”

“Well… well…”

I smirked, knowing you were about to give in.

“Well… thank you. I will… I mean, I’m happy to take this opportunity,” you finally said.

“Oh, and don’t think of this as charity,” I said loftily. “You’ll definitely be working hard to earn your keep.”

You nodded eagerly. “I understand.”

“Great. The nightclub opens in exactly three weeks from today. Sejin will be closing his bar two weeks from today, and then we’ll spend a week setting up the place and training. Sound good?”

“Sounds great.”

I tossed a few bills onto the table. “See you in two weeks… y/n.”

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

If you like this preview, check out the full story on my Wattpad profile!

[mal-likes-biscuits]

Diablo: Archfall - Update

It’s summer! Also known as the time I’d aimed to start posting Diablo: Archfall. Hahahahaha.

“Sacrilege! How dare you discuss such an important topic without having anything good to say?”

Thanks Imperius. Love you too, bud.

tldr: My writing time has shrunk dramatically this year and I’m behind, but I am still actively working on it with the enthusiasm of the Archangel of Valor.

Longer version (with some Archfall tidbits and table of contents) below the break:

My personal/work life has become extremely time consuming this year for several entirely unrelated reasons. A lot of those issues are transient, either short or slightly longer term, and I’m hoping by the end of the year at the latest my usual writing time will free up.

I haven’t had the 3-5 hour writing blocks I usually use to turn out longer stories. Typically, I write one of the Acts over the course of about a week. The longer Acts (like Born of Night) take me about a month with that sort of schedule. Not having these blocks means I only have the time to draft up things like short RP replies, as well as make notes and figure out plot details for Archfall.

But I’ve still been working, as often as I can. I want to emphasize that the delay is in no part due to a lack of interest; I want to write this sucker as much as you all want to read it. It’s just a combination of “life is busy” and a lot of mental fatigue resulting from “life is busy”.

As a result, I’m going to be adjusting my posting plan slightly. Initially, I’d intended to only start posting Archfall once I had it entirely complete. However, the series is definitely split into sequences (between the Acts and filler stories), and once I have a part of it ready (to ensure there’s no continuity issues later), I am going to start posting. I’d rather put out some content for all of you while I am working on the rest.

According to the Table of Contents, this is what the Acts/fillers for Archfall currently look like:

I have notes for a lot of these, and several of the earlier ones that are not checked off as complete are at least partially finished. This includes “Act II: Shards of the Gods”.

“Breathe” (about 20k words) needs some additions and editing, but is essentially done. “Comforts” and “Nightmares and Nephalem” are longer filler stories and are about 15k words combined. “Pragma” is the warm and heart-felt lemon-series that my brain wrote in tiny pieces anyway because it wanted to that badly. “The Mortal Aspects” is the big closing Act of the series (like Born of Night was) and I’m anticipating it will be the length of the other Acts combined.

I don’t want to dump the flavour text for all the chapters here due to length, but if anyone wants the 1-3 sentence “blurb”, just drop me a comment here and I can share it. It’s honestly the least I can do for being so behind with this.

Thanks for being patient with me. I wish I could have started posting it this week, but life, as they say, is life.

[fandammit]

Loss like the sharp edges of a knife (9/9)

Ao3 || Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 || Part 7 || Part 8 ||

[A/N: This is a massive 8100 word update. I’ll write a longer post later, but I just want to say thank you to everyone who has read, liked, reblogged and sent me messages. A special shoutout to @anextrapart, who should basically get co-writing credit for the amount of ideas, feedback and overall badassness she provided. Thank you, Kastle fam. You all are amazing! Edited to add: Now with the Ao3 link!]

It’s been almost a week and he’s only managed to get just a little more than halfway through the book.

This is partially because the story is pretty fucking dense to begin with, and each page is now filled nearly to the edges with some combination of his cramped letters and Karen’s looping script.

He also has a tendency to stop reading the moment he starts getting sleepy, which on some nights is embarrassingly early. He tells himself that it’s because he doesn’t want to accidentally gloss over or skip completely anything that Karen has written down, and yeah, it’s that, too. But there’s also the haunting memory of falling asleep midway through chapter 25 and dreaming himself into a conversation with Karen, her legs tucked up underneath her on his couch, Gracie sleeping in the space between them. He can still remember the way she’d tilted her head at him and asked a question he couldn’t answer in his dream, a question he now can’t remember in his waking hours. He’d reached out to brush her hair back from her face, an attempt to distract her that only succeeded in distracting him, an attempt he doesn't think he would've made in real life.  

He’d woken up just as Karen had turned her face into his hand; had been breathless and wanting, a hopeless, desperate ache in the center of his chest.

So now he makes sure to set the book down now the moment he feels heaviness start to creep across his eyelids. He always picks it up again and reads it as he drinks his first cups of coffee, finds comfort in starting his day with Karen’s words on the page, her voice ringing in his mind and through the emptiness of his apartment.

But he also comes to realize that the other part of his slow progress is that he just has so much less free time now than in those first few months when he initially wrote himself into the book. Between training with Paul at the boxing gym and training with Gracie at the shelter, group with Curtis, afternoons at David’s and random invites to dinner and requests for handy work from various members of the Abaya family that he always gets paid way too much for (meaning being paid at all, despite the myriad of ways he tries to protest it), he finds himself with an increasing scarcity of time to just sit and immerse himself in the story of Ishmael and Captain Ahab.

He comes home late one night from some shitty bar around the corner of the gym -- a post-fight outing to celebrate winning his first official boxing match that had included some guys from the gym and David and Curtis, who had come to watch, and looks over at Moby Dick lying on his kitchen table, unread for the entire day. He sits down and taps his fingers idly across the front cover, realizes with a start that he’s somehow managed it --

Has managed, against all odds and at a pace slow enough to mostly escape his notice, to build a life for himself, to learn how to live life without waiting for the other shoe to drop. Has managed to fill in the silence with the sounds of something other than the quiet rustling of turned pages, something other than the sounds of his own labored breathing after a nightmare.

It fills him with a conflicting sensation of pride and frustration. Pride that he’s managed to build an after that he can look at with some small measure of satisfaction, frustration that it’s left him with only snatches of time here and there to indulge in this phantom, ongoing conversation with Karen.

So he starts to carry the book everywhere with him, slowly makes his way through it page by page as he's sitting at Vigilantes, or waiting for Emeline to finish her homework so he can check it, or at the dog park mid-day while Gracie sniffs around the fence posts. It gives him a small bit of peace -- knowing that even disconnected from him, she’s still managed to become interlaced into the pattern of his life, is still present in all the ordinary little moments of living.

There are times as he’s reading that he can picture her looking at his margin notes and then shaking her head at him. He pictures her looking up from the book and staring at him across the miles of asphalt and glass, imagines her looking straight through him with those wide blue eyes, their irises filled with a compassion and a sadness that he both wants to fall into and run from.

He thinks of this when he comes across one of her notes in the back half of the book -- a circle drawn around a question of his and a note next to it that reads:

Frank, stop. Of course not.

He imagines her reaching out to him as she says it. Imagines her leaning forward in her seat and brushing her fingertips across the back of his hand in an effort to make him believe her, him brushing his thumb against the soft skin on the underside of her wrist to let her know that he wants to.

Other times, he can almost hear her scoffing at what he’s written, can see her rolling her eyes at him in a way she never has in all their interactions together.

There’s a jaggedly written note at bottom of one of the chapters, one of his observations circled multiple times with an arrow to Karen’s reply, which is just:

Don’t be an asshole, Frank.

It makes him laugh out loud when he gets to it. Reminds him that he’s always been more than just the Punisher to her -- that he’s also just a man, just Frank to her. That he is someone she would cross red lines and red tape for to find the truth, someone she trusts enough not to be afraid of, no matter how much blood is dripping from his skin.

Some part of him sees that note to him -- the brazenness, the openness -- and remembers the steely-eyed honesty that Karen has always had when talking to him, the utter lack of fear when she pushes against his actions or his words. Can think nothing but of course -- of course they’d make him want to see her again, of course he likes that time and distance has not lessened the honesty between them.

Another part of him thinks that he must really be truly fucked if what he wants is to hear her call him an asshole in person. 

“So, any movement on Moby Dick?” David asks the following Monday.

He’s been at David’s for close to an hour now, and has managed to accomplish nothing but to install four more of the frame joists. David has been essentially useless for most of it, though that’s no more or less normal than all the other times he’s come over.  

Frank sets down his hammer, picks up his beer and takes a long drink before answering.

“Some.” He glances over at David, who’s staring at him with an intensity he thinks is a little much given the question and the moment. “She gave me back the book, left me notes in it. Been re-reading the whole thing. Still got a few more chapters to go.”

David nods, then eases back and rests his elbows on a tall stack of lumber.

“Good, good, that’s good, Frank.” He clears his throat. “So I, uh, got an interesting message from Madani for you.”

He furrows his brows and tilts his head at David, who gives him a crooked smile.

“You’re still talking to Madani?”

David nods.

“Yeah, well, I work for her. Officially. Well, more technically than officially.” He shakes his head and bites his lower lip, then huffs out a laugh. “Or actually, not officially at all, you know, but technically.”  

Frank nods slowly, narrowing his eyes at David.

“Huh. How long’s that been going on?”

“Few months. Well, no. More than a few -- basically a month or so after, you know. Everything with Billy.”

“Weird that you didn’t bring it up before now.”

David sighs.

“Yeah, I know.I wasn’t trying to hide it or anything, Frank. I was trying to, to, you know -- .“

Frank tilts his head and raises an eyebrow, stretches his hand out in front of him with his palm facing up.

“You were -- ?”

David clears his throat, throws his hands up in front of him with his palms in front of him.

“I was trying to keep it all separate from you. Protect you, I guess.” He looks away from Frank and clears his throat, looks back up at him. “When you showed up again, I thought about mentioning it. But I didn’t want you to get back into that headspace, into -- into that place. Not when it seemed like you were working so hard to dig yourself out of it.”

Frank looks away from David, down at his hands, over at the unfinished deck. Looks back over at David and nods. Hopes that David knows him well enough to see the ‘thank you’ that’s implied.

“So, what’s this message from Madani?”

“It’s -- .“ David laughs, though it’s a mix of bewilderment and nervousness rather than straight amusement. “So, here’s something that I just found at the other day -- Karen and Madani...they’re friends.” He catches the look on Frank’s face and grins. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Madani asked her for help with something she’s working on for Homeland and I guess, you know, they really hit it off because now...now they apparently go out for dinner and drinks a few times a week.”

He blinks rapidly a few times. It’s not the last thing he would’ve thought to hear from David, but it’s pretty damn close. He has to take a few moments to process it. Once he does, he looks over at David, then tips his head forward and lets out a long, loud laugh.

“Jesus Christ, David. Karen and Madani -- friends.” He shakes his head, a grin still tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Goddamn, I wouldn’t want to be on those two’s shitlist.”

David smiles, then tips his head in Frank’s direction.

“Well, right now, that's you. At least for Madani.” He clears his throat. “She told me to tell you to stop being an asshole”

Frank purses his lips and frowns, gives a slow, small nod to David as he does.

“She, uh, a little more specific about what exactly? I’m kinda an asshole about a lot of things.”

“Kinda, Frank?” David laughs at the scowl that Frank gives him. “Well, you’re not really going out and, you know, punishing anyone lately, so what do you think?”

When Frank doesn’t say anything, David huffs out a laugh.

“About Karen, Frank. Obviously.”

He licks his lips, squints over at David. He mostly doesn’t want to ask his next question because he feels a little bit like some awkward middle school kid, passing notes and information through a long line of friends rather than risk talking to someone face to face.

He asks it anyway, because he’s too curious not to.

“She say anything else except not to be an asshole? Is there something in particular I’m supposed to stop being an asshole about?”  

David shakes his head.

“No, but we can assume, right?” David clears his throat. “I mean, you are kind of being an asshole by not seeing her.” He glances over at Frank. “She write anything of note in Moby Dick for you?”

He shrugs, has to bite his lip to keep from grinning.

“Well, she, uh, she also called me an asshole.”

It must be a pretty poor attempt to hide his smile because David takes one look at him and laughs.

“Of course you’d find that appealing.” He shakes his head, chuckling to himself. “So I’m guessing I was right and she doesn’t give a shit that you have a strange affinity for Ahab?”

He pulls in his bottom lip between his teeth and lifts a shoulder.

“Haven’t finished the book yet.”

“Well, I’m sure when you finish it, I’ll still be right.” He steps away from the pile of lumber he’s resting on, stretches down to grab his beer. “And when you’re done, you’re gonna stop being an asshole, right?”

“That’s -- you know -- that’s a pretty big ask, David.”

David laughs.

“Well, you’re gonna stop being an asshole about Karen, at least?” He tips his head down to catch Frank’s eye. “That is the plan, right Frank?”

“Yeah, David.” He says, looking away then back at him. “Yeah, that’s the plan.”

David smirks.

“Good, because I don’t won’t have to protect you from Madani. I mean, I will -- I just, you know, don’t want to have to.”

Frank huffs a laugh.

“You will not have to protect me from Madani.”

David nods, satisfied, then steers the conversation away from Karen and Madani, onto more mundane things like the fact that he still can’t install a deck joist despite being shown how to on three different occasions. Sometimes Frank thinks he’d have better luck and faster progress working with Leo.

They do actually manage to finish installing the rest of the frame, and the work does a pretty good job of keeping his mind off of Karen for the rest of the afternoon.

He winds up thinking about her on the drive from David’s to the gym. Thinks about that picture of her outside the krav maga studio. Wonders if it was Madani that took that photo, wonders just how much shit the two of them are managing to stir up together.

He smiles at that thought, even as he ignores the low of hum of worry that it drags up within him, too. Madani is certainly no amateur and Karen is nobody’s fool, and he really did mean what he said to David -- he doesn’t envy whatever piece of shit winds up on the opposite end of whatever crusade those two decide to go on.

He wakes up the next morning nearly an hour before his 5:30 a.m. alarm goes off, his dream  fading to the edges of his mind. All he can recall are snippets of it -- a flash of blond hair in the sunlight, blue eyes hovering above his, the feel of soft skin beneath his fingertips. The images flicker in and out of his consciousness, like he’s looking at the dream through the slats of a fence. It’s so brief, so fleeting, but it’s still enough to set off a low buzz of want in his veins, to press against the inside of his ribcage and leave him just a little breathless.

He sighs heavily. It's a better way to wake up than from a nightmare -- heart pounding, mind racing -- but it still manages to throw him off balance all the same.

He runs his hands through his hair, one, two, three times, each one rougher than the last, then sits up and turns on the light. He looks over at Moby Dick on his nightstand. He'd tried to put it down the moment he felt his eyelids start to droop, but apparently it still wasn't soon enough.

He grabs the book from his nightstand and starts reading, tries to force the dream back from where it’s creeping into the center of his chest, tries to lose himself in the salty spray of the sea, in the mad ferocity of Ahab.

But of course it doesn’t quite succeed in helping him forget the dream either, because Karen is all over these last chapters, her looping cursive becoming more compact to accommodate the flood of words.

Towards the end of the book, she’s circled a passage he’d underlined and written a reply to his notes that spans the next three pages, that ends with:

Ahab had it wrong. There’s nothing preordained about the paths we choose to take -- there are just the things that happen to us, and the choices make in the aftermath. Sometimes none of the choices are very good, but we have to make them anyway. Sometimes we choose wrong. Either way, we have to go on living with what we’ve chosen to do. We have to make a life out of those choices. We have to at least try.

He has the sensation, one that has increased in frequency the further into the book they’ve gone, that what she’s writing is just as much about herself as it is to him.

He thinks back to what Curtis said that night at the bar -- that Karen leaves things to let him know she’s thinking of him, while he leaves things that tell her about himself. Thinks of how the exchange of this book has flipped that pattern, has been given back and forth in a way that takes on the other’s intention.

He’d offered it to her as a way to tell her about himself, true -- but it had also been a way to tell her that he was thinking of her. That he hasn’t stopped thinking of her since that night at the bridge when she’d asked where it all ended, when she'd ask him to think of his after. Then, the answer had only been never or in death, his after only defined by suffering.

Now...now, the answer is different for both those questions. That’s what leaving her Moby Dick was meant to do -- to draw a line from who he was that night at the bridge to who he is in the silence when the gunfire ends. To make her understand that drawing that line is only possible because of how often he thinks of her.

And what she’s given him in return is a way to see into her -- to look past the steeliness of her spine, the softness of her touch -- and understand how both can exist. This book is no longer just about him, it’s about Karen, too -- about how she sees the world, how she sees him, how she sees herself. She writes herself into her words, raw and real and intimate, puzzle pieces of who she is that he hoards, tries to fit together in some semblance of an image of her.

It can only ever be incomplete, but it’s still more than he’s ever known given the lack of opportunity, the lack of quiet, the lack of stillness; it’s still more than she’s ever offered to him before.

He thinks that would still the want in his veins, but it only ever serves to magnify it.

The last Tuesday night group participant is barely two steps out the door when Curtis turns towards him and crossing his arms in front of him, and there’s something about the way he does it that makes Frank feel like he’s about to be reprimanded for something.

He’s pretty sure he already knows what it is.

“So, I got an interesting visitor after Monday night group.” Curtis says, an aggravated look in his eyes. “Karen came to see me.”

He freezes with a chair in his hands raised mid-air. Slowly brings it back down in front of him, grips the back of it so hard his knuckles go white.

“Yeah?” He asks, and he’s proud of the way that his voice stays steady.

Curtis purses his lips, taps his fingers on his bicep in a way that seems vaguely threatening.

“Yeah,” the word cut short, clipped at the end.  

He’s tempted to ask how she’s doing, how she looked, if she was as happy as he’s been imagining since he got that photo of her. Realizes that each question is more ridiculous than the last to ask of someone that’s only met Karen for the first time.

He swallows thickly, rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet before he looks over at Curtis.

“How’d she know to find you here?”

“That picture you took, Frank. That’s why you stood where you stood, isn’t it? To let her know you were coming here, let her know you’ve been healing.” He nods his head. “She’s a journalist, right -- figured out when and where and who I was.” He points at Frank. “And you know what -- you are just damn lucky that I didn’t tell her to just show up on Tuesday night.” He shakes his head. “Part of me still wishes that I did.”

Frank looks down at his hands.

“Thanks for that, Curt.”

Curtis scoffs.

“You know what, Frank, you need to explain this to me before I really do get up from this chair and kick your ass.” He leans forward in the chair, rests his palm flat on his knee. “Because I thought you said you wouldn’t be a wallowing asshole. I thought you had committed to not waiting for the other shoe to drop. I thought Karen was -- is -- your friend.”

His head snaps up at that.

“C’mon, Curtis, Karen’s...” He trails off, not sure how to end that sentence.  

“Well, is she?” Curtis asks.

“What?”

“Is she a friend?”

He shrugs, though it’s a stiff movement. He knows he should just say yes, because it’s not untrue, because it’s the easiest way to explain what Karen is to him. But it also feels wrong, because friend seems like such an easy word to hold the complicated swirl of emotion he feels when he thinks about Karen. It’s both too much and too little to describe what she is to him -- a person who has been ally and advocate and antagonist all rolled into one, whose name has been both an invocation and affliction, whose memory sets off a warning light behind his eyes and a low, steady burn of longing across his veins.

“She’s...important to me. You know that, Curt.”

Curtis looks askance at him.

“Yeah, I’m not sure I know much of anything, Frank.” He folds his arms in front of him. “Because I know you finished that book again almost two weeks ago. But you know what she told me? That she hasn’t heard from you since she gave it back to you -- not a photo, not a note, not another pot of flowers. Nothing.” He shakes his head. “And she didn’t tell me this, but she obviously came here trying to look for answers. She was here trying to figure out if you were ok, if something had happened to you. And the only thing I can think of that happened is that you decided to be ten kinds of asshole after all and just leave her hanging.”

“It’s not -- that’s not. I didn’t want to do that. I don’t.”

“Well, it’s what you’re doing, whether you want to or not.” He scoffs, then takes a long, slow inhale before he starts talking again. “What was in that book, Frank? The way she was talking about you, asking about you -- seems like all she wants to do is see you.” He leans back, crosses his arms again in front of him. “So why don’t you want to see her?”  

He shakes his head, barks out a laugh that’s more bitter than anything.

“I do want to see her. I -- goddammit, it’s, it’s so...it’s so.” He exhales sharply and shakes his head. “It’s so fucking stupid how much I want to see her. I think about it all the time, you know? Imagining what she’s gonna look like, what she’s gonna say.” He huffs out a laugh and looks away from Curtis, runs his hand over his chin. “I mean, she’d probably call me an asshole one or five times, right? And shit, that’d be the least of what I deserve.” He glances over at Curtis, looks away, looks at his hands, at the way he’s twisted them around one another. “Believe me -- I think about seeing her all the time, Curt.”

“So why don’t you?”  

He looks down, sinks further down into the chair. He twines his fingers together in front of his face, rests his chin atop his thumbs. He doesn’t say anything, just falls into the silence between them, lets it drag on and on.

Curtis closes his eyes and takes a deep breath in, lets it out slowly before opening his eyes again and sitting straight up in his chair.

“Is it Maria?”

Franks sucks in a breath at the sound of her name. He raises his eyes slowly over the edges of his fingertips until he meets Curtis’ gaze. Lifts his shoulders but still doesn’t say anything. It’s a question he’s been avoiding -- one that’s easy to, now, because there are so few people left alive who knew him as anything but Frank Castle: survivor, widower, Punisher.

“You’ve been making so much progress these last few months -- I didn’t want to bring her up unless I needed to,” Curtis says, his voice soft, almost cautious. “But now -- I think I do, don’t I?”

He drags his teeth over his lip, looks back down at his fingers, flicks his eyes back up to Curtis and nods once -- a small incline of his head that barely registers as a movement.

“I don’t dream about Maria the way I used to.” He says it quietly, his voice low in the back of his throat. As if he’s mostly saying it to himself. “If I close my eyes right now, I can still see her. Still see her smile, still remember the way she smelled, the way she felt.” He takes a deep breath in, lets it out slowly before he glances back up at Curtis. “But I don’t see her in my dreams any more. Not the way I used to.”

He chews on his bottom lip.

“I -- you know, I...I dream about Karen, sometimes. A -- a lot,” he stammers out, unable to look in Curtis’ direction. “Just -- just normal shit, mostly. Getting coffee, talking to her, arguing about Moby Dick.” He tips his head down and up again, darts glance between Curtis and the floor. “I try not to, you know-- I can’t even stay up late reading Moby Dick because all it does it give me dreams about her, about seeing her again. But I -- I can’t help it.”  

Curtis reaches a hand out to him, fingers splayed, palm up.

“You need to be ok with feeling the good stuff, too, Frank. It can’t always just be about anger and sadness and regret. You’ve worked so hard to not have anger as your driving force forward. I don’t want to see you just turn around and replace it with guilt. You have to let yourself feel what you feel.”

Frank tilts his head, squints a bit at Curtis.  

“You know, I said the same thing to Sarah once.”

It feels like a lifetime ago, now. In a way, he supposes it was.

“Yeah? You mean it?”

Frank shrugs.

“Yeah, for her.”

“But not for you.”

“Nah. Not for me.”

Curtis sighs, dips his head down, rubs his hand against his forehead.

“Why, Frank? Because it’s so different for you? Because you're the Punisher?”  

He shrugs his shoulders, purses his lips and looks away from Curtis, drops his gaze down to his hands.

“Can’t really be the Punisher any more, Curt,” he says, a reply that answers the question without really answering it. That answers it as well as he can. He skims his eyes across the floor, the chairs in the room, then back over at Curtis. “There's no one left for me to punish.”

Curtis breathes in sharply.

“Except you,” He says quietly, his eyes wide with understanding. Frank looks down and bites down hard on his lip, then flicks his eyes up to meet Curtis’ for a quick moment before looking back down at his hands. “That’s what this is, isn’t it, Frank? Punishment?” Curtis tilt his head towards him, angles his face so that Frank is forced to meet his eyes. “That’s why you won’t see Karen -- even though you want to.” He softens his voice. “There’s no one left for you to punish, so now you have to punish yourself.”

He forces his gaze away, flicks his eyes back and forth between him and random spots in the room instead. It feels like Curtis is reaching in through his stare and taking out every hidden thought and feeling he’s kept stored away -- secrets he’s kept even from himself at times -- and bringing them out from the darkness, shining them up against the brightness of day and of truth and of time.

It feels painful and liberating at the same time, makes him want to draw closer and close himself off.

“You don’t have to spend the rest of your life avenging your family, Frank,” Curtis says, his voice soft, his tone gentle. Like he’s trying to ease Frank into the words, like he’s throwing them out as a careful lifeline.

Frank glances back down at his hands, chews on the corner of his lip.

“Without it...it feels like forgetting them. Like I’m trying to.” He looks up at Curtis. “I don’t want that.”

Curtis shakes his head.

“There are ways to remember them that having nothing nothing to do with suffering Frank -- other people’s or yours.” He pauses, leans forward in his chair. “I think it’s right to want to remember them, Frank, and you should. But it’s worth it to try and do more than remember them. It’s worth it to try and honor them, too.”  

Frank drops his hands into the space between his outstretched legs, folds them one on top of the another, and taps a finger against the back of his hand.

“And how do you think I should do that?”

Curtis licks his lips, takes a deep breath in.

“I think you already know, Frank. What do you think Maria would want for you?” 

Frank gives him a long, unblinking stare. It’d be the wrong question to ask if it were anyone else but Curtis. Because how could anyone else possibly know? But Curtis is the last living person in his life who knew Maria -- ate her meals, heard her stories, probably listened to her complain about Frank at some point. He is the last living person in his life that Maria loved, too, and who loved Maria.

And he is the last living person in Frank’s life who would know when the answer is the truth, rather than just a reflection of his own hopes and wishes.

“I think she’d want me to be happy,” he finally says, surprised at how easy it is to reveal, only vaguely surprised at how right it feels.

Curtis nods slowly.

“She would, Frank. She loved you, and she was good to you and she wanted good for you. She’d want you to be happy, especially now.” He waits for Frank to meet his gaze. “She’d want you to at least try.”

“And you think...you think this -- doing this, seeing Karen -- that’s the best way to remember them? To honor them?”

He draws his brows together at the center of his forehead, narrows his eyes at Curtis, who simply nods at him.

“I do. I think sharing their memory with people you care about is how you remember them. And I think living a life that makes you happy, that has all the things they’d want you to have, all the things they gave to you -- that’s how you honor them.”

He clenches one hand in a fist, folds his other hand on top of it, holds them against his chin. He closes his eyes as he turns over Curtis’ words in his mind, thinks about memory and forgetting, looks closely at the separating line between avenging and honoring. Wonders where deserving and earning fit into it all.

“It’s worth a shot, right Frank?” He opens his eyes and looks over at Curtis. His are elbows resting on his knees and he his hands out in front of him, palms facing up. “You said it yourself -- you aren’t the Punisher any more. So maybe try figuring out something different this time. Shoot for happiness instead.”

Frank breathes in deeply and looks down at the floor, lets the breath out slowly before he looks back up at Curtis. Nods, once -- a short, small tug of his head that’s almost imperceptible.

It feels momentous anyway.

He licks his lips and nods again, the movement bigger, more obvious this time. He’s almost there, could almost go on without asking -- but he knows that this last, worrying question will keep digging at the back of his mind until he does.

“I do wonder, you know -- sometimes.” He clears his throat, flicks his gaze over to Curtis and away again.“I think maybe -- maybe this, all this -- maybe it’s more than I deserve.”

Curtis gives him a gentle smile, a half-shrug.

“Maybe, Frank.” He tips his head to the side. “But what about what Karen deserves?”

He lets the question hang in the air between them for a long moment.

Frank grabs it from the air, finds that he has a dozen different answers to that question -- all of them beginning with more.

Curtis studies his expression.

“I may not know everything, Frank, but I do know this: Karen knows what you’ve done, she knows who are you, knows who you aren’t -- and she isn’t running away. She wants to stay.” He pauses, then leans forward in his chair. “She wants to see you, in spite of and because of everything she knows about you. Whatever else you might think about her deserving more or better or whatever self-sacrificing shit you got running through your head right now  -- the simple truth is that she wants to see you. Don’t you think she at least deserves that?”

And what can he say to that, except the only real answer there is --

“Yeah, she does.”

He spends the entire car ride home replaying his conversation with Curtis in his mind. Sits down at his kitchen table with Moby Dick laying across from him, stares at it and imagines that Karen is there in its place instead.

He flips through the book, the story that is now a composite of Ahab’s and Karen’s and his own. Stops when he gets to the section he’s looking for, rereads one of Karen’s final notes -- a trailing sentence written below one of the last scenes of the book:

We can be more than the stories told about us, Frank.

He closes the book again, leans back in his chair and looks towards the ceiling. Thinks about the stories that have been told about him, the stories that he’s told Karen, the precious few stories they’ve shared with one another.

He thinks of everything that Karen already knows about his past -- the broad strokes laid out in stark facts and figures in computer databases and official government files, the smaller details laid down by his own meandering stories to her. He thinks of everything he doesn’t know about Karen -- her past, apparently easily uncovered by a quick internet search; her present, steeped in loneliness, in the fight against it that he desperately hopes she’s winning.

It’s true that they’ve never really had the time, the space, the moment to indulge in anything even approaching normal. And it’s true that even despite this, there’s a connection between them, an intimacy -- one that has only ever been communicated in wordlessness: in the press of her forehead against his, the brush of her breath across his eyelashes, the feel of her arms wrapped around his shoulders.

But what’s also true is this: he has never asked for her own story, has never thought to delve into the specifics, has never paused to consider just why she offers up the entirety of herself in pursuit of the truth while offering so little of her own story to those around her. He wonders if it’s because she’s used to not telling it, or if she’s used to never being asked.  

He wants to be the type of person who asks. No, not the type of of person -- He wants to be the one who asks. Who keeps asking. Who never stops letting her know that she matters, that she deserves to be known.

He wants to be the one who knows more than the stories that are told about her.

He flips to the very last page and rereads her ending note for what feels like the thousandth time. Traces over the words with his fingertip, feels them slide up his shaking hands and push out the trembling terror in his heart. Lets them blossom into hope instead.

When can I see you?

He wakes up even earlier than usual the next morning, gets to Vigilantes just as they’re opening for the day.

He orders a large Punisher to go. Shuffles back and forth on his feet, half hoping that he won’t run into her, half hoping that he will. He nearly sprints back to his car the moment he gets his order, checks and re-checks his rearview mirror to make sure there’s no telltale sign of blond hair flashing behind him.  

The drink is half empty by the time he gets home, and he thinks that it definitely earns its title as strongest coffee in the world given how fidgety he feels. Though maybe it’s nerves and anxiety and excitement rather than the high volume of caffeine coursing through his veins.

It’s something approaching agony -- the prospect of the hour and a half wait until 7:00 am, a time he tells himself is appropriate to contact any normal person without them wanting to tell you to fuck off immediately. He goes on a forty minute run, takes a nearly twenty minute shower. Spends the next half hour after that pacing restlessly in his apartment, alternating between pretending he has the presence of mind to sit down and read a book and pretending he has the focus required to make a sandwich for himself.

He winds up reading the same two sentences over and over again, making a sandwich that has three slices of cheese, no meat and mayonnaise that he’s almost sure has been expired since he got Gracie.

A quick glance at his phone tells him that it’s five to seven, and really, there’s not a lot of difference between 6:55 am and 7:00 am, all things considered. But he’s so wired from nerves and caffeine and eight months of longing that he thinks even the slightest deviation from his plan would feel like an a bad omen.  

So he forces himself to sit down at his kitchen table, fingers tapping across the cover of Moby Dick, grounding himself in the movement, in the tangible reminder that Karen wants to see him.

When the alarm finally, finally does go off, he freezes -- as if he hasn’t been waiting for this moment since the minute he woke up, as if he hasn’t been thinking about it since he came home last night.

(As if he hasn’t been dreaming of it for months now.)

He sits down at his kitchen table and takes Karen’s business card out from his pocket, a last parting gift from Curtis the night before.

It has the same number on it that he’s had stored on his phone for these last eight months --  the same number he’d told himself might no longer be hers on those nights he was tempted to call it, the same number his thumb has hovered over time and again but never touched.

He takes a deep breath and sets the card down, picks up his phone in one hand and the Vigilantes coffee cup in the other. He clicks on the camera and positions his phone in front of him, takes photo after photo after photo -- shifting the angle of the camera, rearranging the placement of his features. What he wants is to convey a sense of apology and hopefulness and excitement in his expression all at once; at the very least he wants to not look angry or bored, which is the expression his face inadvertently tends to take on when he isn’t smiling.

He clicks on Karen’s name in his phone and even that -- even just the act of tapping on her name -- gives him a thrill that’s as exhilarating as it is embarrassing.

He opens a new text message and inserts the photo that he just spent far too long taking --

Him looking directly at the camera, expression some approximation of hopeful and honest -- he thinks (hopes) -- the coffee cup covering half his face as though he’s drinking from it. The large, blocky lettering of Vigilantes is clearly visible and, just beneath it, written in his own crooked handwriting --

This Friday, 7am?

He hits send before he can talk himself out of not doing so. Feels a strange sense of awe at the ease of sending it to her -- at the knowledge that he could’ve done this months ago, that he might have never done it at all.

He puts his phone on the kitchen table, face down. Tells himself that Karen probably won’t respond any time soon -- that she has a job to get ready for, a day to begin. That the last thing she is expecting is some early morning text from someone who’s spent the last eight months as an object outside her window sill. That the last thing he deserves is for her to send him a quick reply -- not when he’s given her nothing but silence these last two weeks, nothing but irregular snippets of his life in the last eight months or so, nothing but a memory wrapped in sadness and gunpowder even before that.

He breathes in deeply and shakes his head, reaches for his coffee cup and takes a long drink of the long-cooled coffee.

Nearly drops the entire thing in his lap when his phone buzzes.

Of course, he does actually accidentally drop it -- but he at least has the presence of mind and the built-in reflexes to move aside in time and let it splatter all over the floor.

Gracie gets up from her bed in the corner and lets out a whining yawn, stretches out before padding over to him and resting her head on his knee. He reaches down to pet her, realizes that there’s a tremor in his hands as he does it.

He turns the phone over and clicks on Karen’s text message. Laughs out loud with relief and euphoria and something that kinda feels like it’s approaching delirium.

She’s sent him a picture in return, something that manages to both calm his nerves and set off a buzzing just beneath his skin. Her blue eyes are wide and sparkling, bright against her pale eyelashes and pale skin. He can’t be sure -- half her face is blocked by a plain cardboard box -- but he thinks she might be smiling. Her hair is down, the waves more pronounced and slightly darker than he ever remembers seeing it. He looks closer at the picture and realizes that it’s damp, that her skin has that fresh dewiness to it that he associates from just emerging from the shower.

He takes a sharp breath in, chews on the corner of his lip to distract himself from the sudden spike of yearning in the center of his chest, from the quiet sort of intimacy that the photo implies.

He moves his eyes onto the rest of the photo, to where the bottom half of her face is covered by a cardboard box. When he sees the block lettering that reads Bark Box that’s stamped across it, he laughs, even if he’s more than a little disgruntled that it blocks him from tracing the contours of her chin, her lips, her jawline.

Written beneath the words Bark Box is Karen’s own swirling script, bold and bigger than he’s used to seeing --

Bring Gracie!

And beneath that, written in slightly smaller text --

(Don’t worry -- there’s something in here for you too, Frank.)

He chuckles to himself. Spends the next few minutes studying the photo, overwhelmed by the the words she’s written to him, at the existence of this photo at all. It’s a reminder that Karen is no stranger, despite the strangeness of their connection one another. That she sees him, no matter how much he tries to stay hidden.

He looks at the copy of Moby Dick laying on the kitchen table, the photo in his phone, the bag of Death Wish Coffee sitting on his countertop. Glances over to the shelf, where the picture of Karen in his beanie is propped up against his copy of In Cold Blood -- no longer kept separate and hidden, because the only one he’d been hiding it from was himself. Because he recognized that he no longer needed to.

He knows that if he were to walk into his room, the blue beanie she gave to him would be on top of his dresser, that the plaid shirt she gifted would be hanging in his closet, that Gracie’s matching bandana would be draped over the side of his bed frame.

Everywhere he looks, he’s reminded of her, of what they’ve built between them in these last few months -- a framework constructed on photographs and flannel, on sprawling notes written across the pages of classic literature.

He laughs out loud, a sound that’s half joy, half bewilderment, finds himself wholly consumed by the sensation that he’s both a dumb and lucky piece of shit. Because he realizes that he won’t have to make room for Karen in the life he’s built for himself -- she’s already there.

He re-reads his favorite parts of Moby Dick that night before bed.

Or rather, he re-reads all his favorite things that Karen has written about Moby Dick. All of it seems more real, more present, more raw now that seeing her again is a fast-approaching reality rather than an ever-fading dream.

He tries to catalog everything he wants to ask -- about all things she’s written in the book, all the things she’s done in the last eight months, all the things he doesn’t know about her.

He reads and re-reads and re-reads her last note to him, can almost hear her asking --

When can I see you?

He imagines her saying it softly, her breath brushing up against his ear, her voice nothing more than a whisper. He drifts into that place between dreams and waking with that thought repeating in his mind, finds himself falling into a scene that’s more memory and dream --

It’s him and Curtis from the other night, wrapping up their conversation, saying goodbye. Everything playing out like it did in real life, except in this dream world they’re standing in his dimly lit living room rather than the harsh fluorescent lighting of the church basement.

“I’m gonna see her,” he says, the warmth and excitement and awe battling against a rising tide of anxiety. “I’m gonna see her,” he repeats, louder this time, as if he can will it into being that very moment by the force of emotion in his words. He huffs a laugh, then licks his lip and tilts his head. “But what happens after that?”

Curtis narrows his eyes at him momentarily, then chuckles softly.

“I don’t know, Frank. That’s living, right? Figuring it all out.”

Frank scoffs.

“You know, I gotta admit -- I thought you’d have a better answer than that.

Curtis smiles.

“That’s life, Frank. Time to figure out how to live that part of it again.”

He nods slowly at that and smiles, lifts a hand in goodbye and turns around.

“Hey, Frank?” A voice says behind him, and here is where he knows he must have sunken fully into a dream.

Because the words are quieter this time around, the voice higher, the tone shot through with affection.

He turns around, a hushed oh escaping from his mouth as he faces Karen, her eyes bright in the dimness of his living room, her smile radiant and warm. She’s lit with a soft glow of some cheap lamp behind her, beautiful in a way that he thinks has nothing to do with the fact that he’s dreaming.

He knows what she’s going to say next, knows the words because they’re the same ones Curtis spoke to him the other night.

But where Curtis was teasing and glib, Karen is tender and honest and always more than he thinks he deserves.

She steps in closer to him and cups his face in her hands, brushes her thumb across his cheekbone and smiles.

“Welcome back to the land of living.”

[aurimeanswind]

Your E3 Predictions!—Sunday Chats—6/3/18

I’m very excited about this week’s Sunday Chats because it’s all about E3 predictions! This time next week, we’ll BE INSIDE E3! I’ll have seen Microsoft/EA/and Bethesda’s pressers come the next Sunday Chats, and I’ll be writing about them, probably! I may or may not do a Sunday Chats, but we’ll see!

To catch folks up, this week has been a full-force build up to E3 for me. A new Episode of Get Acquainted posted, with my friend Brandon Gann, who is just an incredibly wonderful and amazing loquacious individual, and we spend two plus hours talking E3! We had a ton of predictions and great conversations around all of them! You should give it a listen!

http://irrationalpassions.com/brandon-gann-e3-predictions-get-acquainted/

On this week’s Irrational Passions Podcast we had my other good friend Logan Moore on to make some E3 BETS! Nabeshin was kind enough to put together 25 amazing bets for us and a ton of lightening round bets on top of that, and it was super fun. You can watch the video version of that WITH bonus content right now, and the fully edited version will post on Tuesday.

So it’s all about E3, but before we get to that, a little personal update.

Personal Update for June

So any one close to me will no that the last week of my life has been exceptionally difficult. Some folks close to me, both physically and emotionally have been making decisions that have been pretty toxic, I can’t lie. It’s led to a pretty unhealthy living situation that I’d rather not get into, and whether things blow over, get worse, I’m not sure. I obviously don’t want to spill any personal juice here, but anyone who has seen me out here tweeting like the dramatic boi I am on the inside about how I need some good vibes, that’s a general overview of the situation, if you were concerned.

I’m thankful for all my close friends out there texting me, checking on me, and making sure I am doing okay, even if I’m not. It is upsetting that this just so happens to coincide with the busiest time of the year in video games, so if this bleeds over into our content over on Irrational Passions I apologize. Sometimes its a bit unavoidable.

Anyway, I appreciate you all taking the time to interact and be a part of my silly Selfie Saturdays or Sunday Chats, it means the world. I’ve been working hard with the team @ Irrational Passions to make some really fun stuff, including a new show that acts as a spiritual successor to our roundtables from 2017 Game of the Year talks.

That’s all we need to dwell on in regards to the bummer business, let’s get to games!

What’s on Tap

Moonlighter

So I just started this tonight and I have to say: right away I just love it.

The idea is you live in a small town that neighbors these ancient ruins that lead to these very dangerous dungeons, and once upon a time travelers and adventurers used to come here to explore those dungeons, and merchants would sell supplies and goodies to gear them up for those journeys. Eventually it grew too dangerous, but you are someone who Moonlights as an adventurer and runs a shop on the front end.

You dive into these dungeons and get awesome treasure and loot and goodies to then sell in your shop to expand your shop, get better weapons and armor, and continue deeper into the dungeons. It’s an amazing idea, and it’s executed on so well.

The game sustains such a great and rewarding loop, and it’s also got tons of charm and amazingly well executed on pixel art.

On top of that the UI is also just very good? It’s super slick and smooth. 

I’m only a couple hours in but I just adore it. Mike Burgess, producer at IP, did a video review on it that I saw the first cut of today and it’s actually what sold me on it. See it soon!

Detroit Become Human

I’ve already said so much about this game I’m exhausted. I love this game.

It has so many issues and in spite of all that, I genuinely adored my time with Detroit.

Our roundtable discussion was about this very game, so look for it soon.

Dark Souls Remastered

This game is still so good. I think I may like it even more than Dark Souls 3, a game I picked up just very briefly a few weeks ago.

I’ve now got the power to fast travel and am just warping around and exploring again. I even dipped my toe into the DLC area which I have never seen before. 

It’s excellent, and seeing it run smooth has been super rewarding for me, a longtime fan of the title.

Your E3 Predictions

Let’s get to it! This week, something I haven’t done in a bit, I asked you for your boldest E3 predictions, and while some of you gave me a good joke, a lot of you came back at me with some great predictions!

Let’s get into it!

Remember to look for my tweet on Sunday afternoons/evenings with #SundayChats in it and respond to it with your reply to be a part of Sunday Chats!

Now listen, I know this was clearly written as a joke Sam, but I think that this announcement is coming, just not here. It’s a PSX announcement, if ANY, because that’s the only place it can be really gernally accepted as an “announcement”. It’d get a big riot of an applause.

I’d love this. I think they have such a “robust” (#branding) library of handheld games that it’d make too much sense to carry them over to their now partially handheld big console.

Will it happen? Well, I mean Nintendo has said no virtual console on Switch. But they’ve changed their mind, even if it has been rare, in the past before. While it could happen down the line, this up coming direct is about 2017, so I don’t think we’ll see it there.

Nah John.

You need to stop.

But... Well

I mean maybe?

MAYBE.

Maybe?

Finally. Some announcements we, as “hardcore gamers” care about.

Some cars

Fuckin.

On stage.

The cars have sex.

And birth a motorcycle.

I love this Peter. I mean, for some reason I guess folks think that Emma Stone will be the female actress pulled into Death Stranding, and I think there will likely be a big female reveal at some point, I don’t know why everyone thinks it’ll be Emma Stone? I bet there is a good reason out there, I just don’t know. I’m not complaining, Emma Stone is great.

I am definitely with you on the “deep dive”, though I don't think there will be a long explanation of things, just a nice gameplay demo. My theory I posited on Get Acquainted was like an 8 minute trailer that leads into about four minutes of gameplay at the end, but it’s just enough cinematic that we’re convinced there will be no gameplay, and then BOOM. There is.

I could see them saying 2019 at the end too, though I doubt they’ll hit it.

YOU DONT BRANDON GOODBYE.

Nah of course. 

We talked about this on our show, obvs, everyone please go listen to it, but NO FINAL FANTASY 7. IT WONT HAPPEN. Square Enix needs to figure that shit out, and so they’ll come back to it when it, and more importantly, THEY’RE ready to.

Here’s hoping for some dope Xbox Avatars.

I mean, it’s gotta be the time, right? I need to know what this Resident Evil 2 Remake looks like. I know the director was out there talking about it not terribly too long ago, and it just feels like ages since we heard about it. With Capcom announcing RE7 and then releasing it 6 months later, on top of Monster Hunter World’s recent success, they are on a great path! Time to continue it!

As for DMC 5 I mean everyone seems convinced it’s coming and I just don’t care.

I love the Rocksteady prediction, because they’ve been cooking that bad boy for a good long while. I hope it’s Superman because I have supreme faith they’ll knock it out of the park. Maybe even an origin story? I’d love to see Rocksteady do one of those.

And I do, also, believe that Shadows Die Twice is Tenchu.

Dishonored getting a reboot I just don’t see happening. I think it’s time Arkane moves onto some new IP. Something that is hopefully a bit more eye-catchy so they get get back into a popular circle, then maybe spend a few years making iterations of that. Maybe in a few years past that they can return to Dunwall and take another crack at Dishonored.

Doom 2 can be wherever the hell it wants and I am HERE for it. But judging by the sounds of things that may not be at this E3, and that’s okay. It makes me sad, but it’s okay.

Man. I fucking wish.

Them or Bioware. I’d love to have just an original story told at Hogwarts where you create your character and go through 7 years at the school and it’s great and it has dialogue wheels and it’s great. Feed me Bioware.

It’d never happen tho.

This would be very cool. I feel like this Star Fox Grand Prix rumor is too big to ignore, but it’s still a little far fetched. I wonder how they’d sell it, if it is real.

Honestly, not that far out there. Kingdom Hearts don’t give a fuck about Red Dead.

Here is my thing, I just don’t think an ARMs character will make it into the Smash roster because no one cares about ARMs and I don’t think they’d be crazy interesting. Who would it be? Twintelle? I mean she is super cool, but who knows!

THey’d make great assist trophies, and I know that’s a slight but I’m sorry.

PUT GENO IN.

Anyway, if they put Banjo and Kazooie in I’d literally start crying right then and there, and it may happen, who knows, but I would. I’d cry.

I think there could be a direct apology. It depends. I think within 15 minutes or so we will know if EA has changed their tone or not. Hell, within 2 minutes we’ll know. If they want to actually be well regarded, they need to start making big moves, and right now, they’re not. Period. Come out and own up to what you’ve done wrong, or GTFO. They need to make up ground on the PR front, even if they’re still making money hand over fist. 

I’m sorry times are tough Silver, but know that I’m sending good vibes your way!

I wonder if Microsoft would make such a bold move. Regardless, it’s a great bold prediction. I hope that they are gonna give it some more time, and let this generation cook a little more. I’m digging my Xbox One X, and them implying a replacement is coming next year or so would bum me out.

Finally. The battle Royale Battle Royale we’ve all been waiting for. 

And as the dust settles, there’s sha’boi Griffin. Standing on top. Winner of them all.

And let’s not front: I’d kill to listen to Donald Glover sing Parappa songs.

Thank you all so much for your predictions! I’ve had a ton out there all week, and the Get Acquainted Episode I think has them out there in the best way. Go check them out! Either way, I’m so excited for E3, not necessarily to see if my predictions came true, but just for the hype of it all and my inevitable editorial after its all said and done about my thoughts and feelings coming out of it.

So. Big Sunday Chats update. I may be making a BIG CHANGE to Sunday Chats in the coming weeks. There is some ironing out I need to figure out personally, but I just wanted to give you faithful readers a little heads up. This could be something that becomes a proper part of IrrationalPassions.com, and for that, I’m very excited. The biggest thing is it may mean I start soliciting questions on Saturday! Stay tuned for my twitter for that.

It wouldn’t be a big change for you all, so don’t stress about it too much, but I wanted to seed it out there.

I love you all and your support, especially in these dark dog days of summer I am in. Thank you for the perpetual good vibes. 

I hope you all are here for the E3 hype, but if not, that’s okay. Regardless, thank you for reading, and

keep it real.

(the Naruto kick not only continues, but never ends.)

[finn-nelson-for-the-win]

Before the World Stops Turning: Pt.3

Hello again! I’ve spent the last week doing A LOT of writing because for whatever reason my Uni classes haven’t been as time consuming, so I decided to make the most of my lack of social life and just write the next 5 or so chapters of this fic so they’ll be ready to edit and post even once I begin to get busy again…Anyways, this chapter is a little boring, but it explains a couple things and acts as a short transition chapter to get to some more fun stuff in the next chapters.

If you’d like to be added/removed from my tags list, don’t hesitate to let me know!

Everything I’ve written can be found right here!

I hope you enjoy this chapter! (As always, additional notes and random commentary I have will be at the end beneath the tags)

Rae and Izzie had spent a few hours at the café the previous night eating, recapping the highlights of the concert, and posting some of the better pictures that had been taken using both of their phones to Izzie’s social media accounts.

By the time Rae made it back to her apartment in the taxi that Izzie and her had split, it was already in the early hours of the morning and Rae’s exhaustion had caught up to her so much so that she fell asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow when she got in bed.

It could not have been more than a few hours later when Rae was awoken by the bright morning sun streaming in through her partially open curtains and the sound of her phone buzzing violently on her bedside table.

Who the fuck would be trying to video call me right now?!?

“Uh, yes, hello?” Rae replied when she answered the video call without checking to see who it was that was calling her at such an early time.

“Rae-Rae! I’m so glad you’re awake! I didn’t wake you, did I?” Izzie replied with a cheerful smile.

“Uh, ‘course not, Izz…” Rae replied, her voice still thick with sleep, as she rubbed her eyes slightly to finish waking up.

“Wonderful! So you’ll never guess how many social media notifications I woke up to when I checked my phone a little while before I called you…”

“Oh really? I bet your friends that bailed on going to the concert with you are ruing the day, huh?” Rae replied as she sat up in her bed with a pillow propped up behind her back to get into a more comfortable position.

“Probably, yeah, but even better than that…So you know how I posted all the concert photos online last night, yeah? And you know how I tagged the bands and band members that were in the pictures? Well…” Izzie smirked and paused for dramatic effect, causing Rae to chuckle.

“C’mon Izz! You can’t keep me in suspense like this…you simply must tell me everything,” Rae replied with a teasing edge to her voice.

“Hey now! The sass is unnecessary, but I’m a good friend, so I will tell you the rest of the story…so this morning I woke up to see notifications on my phone saying that a couple members of Kings and Queens liked and shared the group photo I posted of all of us!”

“Oh, that’s wonderful, Izzie! I’m so happy for you!” Rae replied in complete sincerity because she could tell how excited her mate truly was

“Oh that’s not all…I also saw that I was followed by the Kings and Queens Band account as well as one of the band members! Isn’t that so exciting, Rae? I simply had to call you and I felt this warranted a video call instead of a boring old phone call…I also had a question to ask you…”

“Yeah, that’s so great, Izz! They were all really nice guys, so it’s no surprise that they like to interact with fans like this…What did you want to ask me?”

“Do you remember how many band members were in Kings and Queens, Rae?”

“Uhm, maybe five? Lead singer, drummer, bassist, and two guitar players I think…so yeah, five! Why do you ask?”

“Huh, that’s what I thought…it’s not a big deal, but I was looking at the group photo that we took that I posted online and only see four band members and I wasn’t sure who could be missing. I’m pretty sure everyone was there when we posed for the picture…” Izzie replied, her eyebrows knitting together slightly in confusion.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure everyone made it in…wait a second! Maybe not…There was one guy that was busy and rushed in at the last second, but I’m not sure if he made it into the picture.”

Rae powered up her laptop and brought up Izzie’s account where that picture—along with about a dozen others—was posted and zoomed into the photo to get a closer look.

Izzie sat waiting patiently for Rae to speak after taking another look at the photo, but she was soon caught off-guard when Rae laughed aloud suddenly.

“Holy shit, Izz! Take a look at this! You’re right—well sort of…the photo we took has all band members, but it technically only has three fingers from the fifth band member on the far side of the frame.”

Rae turned the camera of her phone to show the group photo that she been looking at on her laptop and began to show Izzie what she meant.

“As you can see, there’s the two of us and Chop next to me…there’s two guys back behind the three of us…and on Chop’s other side is one of the other band members, but if you look very closely at this fourth guy’s shoulder, you can see three fingers and someone’s hand resting on his shoulder!”

“Okay, I think I see that…but are you sure it’s not someone else’s hand though?”

“That’s what I thought at first too, but the angle that the hand is resting on his shoulder makes it seem like there had to be another person standing just outside the frame of the photo!”

“That’s so funny, Rae! I wonder which of them got left out…”

“Huh, yeah…do you remember who was who? Or what was the name of the band member that followed you after you posted the pictures online, Izz? Maybe we can figure it out like that.”

“Uh, okay…well I know that the one with the glasses next to Chop is named Archie. I’ve been following him on social media since I first found out about the band a while back. I think the taller guy in the back is named Alex…and I’m pretty sure the guy with the drumsticks next to Alex is the drummer, Danny…I don’t remember who else could have been left out…”

“Okay, well that’s four of five band members. Did any of them follow you on social media?” Rae asked as she tried to recall the names of the different band members that Chop had told them when he introduced her and Izzie to everyone in the band mere hours ago.

“Uh, no, actually! The guy who followed me is someone called ‘Finn Nelson’…huh, I guess that settles it! Finn is our three-fingered mystery boy!”

“Mystery solved! I knew we’d be able to figure this out!” Rae called triumphantly before shifting her attention to her mat that seemed to be engrossed in whatever she was currently doing on her phone.

“Dear lord, Rae…I’m looking through our mystery boy’s profile and he’s great…there’s a lot of cool sunset and photography-type posts, but the few selfies and band promos where you can see him…wow,” Izzie replied looking away from her phone only for a brief moment to make sure that Rae was still paying attention before continuing, “it’s a shame all you can see of him in our group photo are his fingers because he is proper fit!”

“Oh is he, now? I thought you had a thing for a certain lead singer of Kings and Queens, Izz…”

“I do still like Chop…he’s quirky…but this lad? Holy shit, Rae, he’s perfect for you!” Izzie replied giving Rae a suggestive smirk and eyebrow raise.

“Uh huh…well, I guess I’m just going to have to take your word for it, Izzie!”

***

It had been nearly a month since Rae had first agreed to accompany Izzie to a concert in the city in which four bands she had never heard of were performing at a local bar, but in that time, Rae’s interest in the bands that they had seen had only continued to grow.

Upon Izzie’s insistence, Rae had even borrowed the Kings and Queens CD Izzie had purchased after the show and Rae spent a week listening to the album end-to-end. By the time she returned the CD to her mate, she had familiarized herself with most of the songs and had chosen her favorites.

“So Izzie, how have you been as of late? I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever!” Rae playfully whined during one of her weekly Thursday lunch dates with Izzie when they both happened to have a break in their schedules to hang out for a few hours.

“It’s only been about a week and a half since I last saw you, Rae! Remember when we had the movie night at your apartment and you returned my Kings and Queens CD to me that you had borrowed?” Izzie replied as she lifted the sandwich she had ordered from her plate and took a large bite.

“Has it really been that long?” Rae replied with a chuckle as she used her fork to stab a cherry tomato from her salad and brought it to her mouth.

“Oh, that reminds me! Did you see that Kings and Queens announced that they’re playing a show at the same bar we saw them last time in a couple weeks?”

“No, I didn’t see that! Where did you find that out? I’m pretty sure I’d remember if they had posted something on the band page…”

“Do you not follow all the individual band members as well as the main band account?”

“No, I just follow the band’s page, I think…”

“Ah, well that explains it then! I think Archie might have posted it? I’m pretty sure he mentioned that they have discounted tickets for sale too if we don’t want to pay the fees for buying the tickets online or wait to get them on the day of the show. I think we just have to let them know how many tickets we want and they’ll deliver the tickets directly to us!”

“Oh wow, that’s perfect! Do you know what day the show is? If we’re both free we should definitely go see them play again!”

“I don’t know the exact date, but I can check…So you don’t even follow Finn’s account, Rae? Why the hell not, babe?”

“Because, Izzie! I’m not going to be one of those girls that thirst follow band members and try to be a groupie at every single show! He’s just a normal person, even if he is as perfect looking as you seem to think he is!”

“Well, I suppose…wait a second…have you still not seen what he looks like yet?”

“Erm…no, I guess I haven’t…well not specifically, at least. Every time you tell me that I should check out his profile, I forget or get distracted and I’ve never gotten around to it, I guess…”

“Well then, love…prepare to be blessed by the beautiful specimen of a man that is Finn Nelson, lead guitarist of the band Kings and Queens…” Izzie said without removing her eyes from her phone as she typed and clicked rapidly before passing Rae her cellphone as if it was a sacred object that must be handled with extreme care.

“Holy fuck…”

 “I know, right?”

 He looks so familiar…wait a second, is that—no, it couldn’t possibly be the guy that I stumbled into before the show…could it?

“So Rae…was I right or was I right? Finn is basically a god, don’t you think?”

“Yeah…he’s definitely, uh, well…I think I know him…”

“Holy shit, really? How?”

“Well, I don’t know-know him…do you remember how when we were standing outside the bar before the concert I told you that I ran into a guy and I dropped my phone…well this is the guy I bumped into…I just don’t know how I never made that connection!”

“That’s so crazy! What a weird coincidence though…”

“No kidding! Well, I have an Abnormal Psychology class to get to right now, but it was really nice meeting you for lunch today! I’ll check when Kings and Queens are performing and maybe we can reach out to them for a pair of discounted tickets?”

“Yeah, for sure! Just let me know if you think you’ll be free and we can work out all the details.”

***

By the time Rae walked into her apartment after a busy day of classes and studying for the finals she had coming up in all her Uni courses, the sun was already mostly set and the sky was streaked with the final remnants of pinks and oranges in a mostly blue and purple backdrop.

She immediately changed into an oversized t-shirt and a pair of patterned lounge pants before sitting down at the desk in the far corner of her bedroom and powering on her laptop.

Okay, let’s take a look to see when this upcoming Kings and Queens concert is gonna be…

Rae pulled up the band’s social media profile and saw a post that was only a few hours old with a picture of the promotional poster for this particular show.

Rae: Hiya Izz! I just checked the date for the K&Q show and I’m free if you still wanna go! It’s two Fridays from now…the Friday of exam week, I think?

Izzie: YES I STILL WANT TO GO! I have a final exam that morning, but I’ll definitely be free that evening.

 Rae: Great! I’ll go ahead and let them know that we want tickets so we can get the discounted price for the tickets, yeah?

 Izzie: Perfect! That sounds good to me, just let me know how much I owe you for my ticket, yeah?

 Rae: Will do!

 Rae set her phone back down on her desk beside her laptop and went back to reading the post in which the Kings and Queens band page had announced that they were playing the show and were selling a limited number of tickets at the lowest possible prices.

 Rae was debating between commenting on the post about needing tickets or sending them a private message before ultimately deciding to ask them about the tickets privately.

Hello there! I saw your post about the show you are playing at the end of the month and I saw that you have a limited number of tickets available for purchase at reduced prices. I’m interested in purchasing a pair, please…

@eveerez @tinakegg @hey1tskat1e @lurkernolonger @milllott @nutinanutshell @i-dream-of-emus @milymargot @vivammfd @bitchesbecrazy89 @arathewallflower @mallyallyandra​ @kneekeyta

A/N: Poor Finn :( First Rae brushes him off when he’s trying to be friendly and now we find out that he was “accidentally” cut out of the frame for the photo that they took after the first show. All I can say is you really have to be careful who you ask to take pictures for you using your phone at concerts because you never know what you’re gonna get…

So I don’t know about you guys, but I’m really enjoying what I’m dong with switching POV between what’s going on with Rae and what’s happening with Finn. I’m also making a point to have the timelines match us as much as possible from one POV to another with no overlap, so fingers crossed that I don’t end up fucking this up or making the story too hard to follow lol…

Also, how cool is it that their band is willing to sell discounted tickets to fans and deliver them to the people wanting the tickets. I know a number of people that are in local and mid-level bands where I live and this is something that they commonly do when the bands playing are lesser known or when there hasn’t been enough time for the concert to really be promoted in order to have a full crowd, so a lot of local bands will try to entice friends/family/previous fans that have seen them by offering to give them discounted tickets. I’m not sure if this is a common practice in other places too, but I think it’s pretty cool.

Writing this story is making me really miss all the concerts in sketchy bars and small venues I went to with my best friend at the time when I was 15/16/17 years old…ah, the memories *looks wistfully into the distance*

This entire thing has been super scatter-brained and confusing, but this is me we’re talking about, so what did you all really expect? Hahaha…I hope you enjoyed this chapter and the next one should be coming very soon as well…I’m still trying to decide exactly when, but I can assure you that it will be relatively soon. Stay awesome, my friends!

[virgoraccoon]

Commissions

(Open) 

 Special event commissions: These usually have special Price and Rules, and limitations such as material or the notion of it being experimental work.

Description: Shots (headshots, isolated body parts etc.)

crops: waist up images in most cases

Full: full character drawing

Base Price- [$15 for -shots], [$20 for crops], [$30 for full] PER CHARACTER

+$5 for wings (per pair) +$5-20 for complex characters +$10+/25+/50+ simple backgrounds +$5-25 for complex props (like weapons, tools, whatever) +$5/10/20 for simple shading

[$150+ for ref] -SFW -these can easily hit 200, but won’t usually go over that -commissioner can request specific parts for a ref sheet, otherwise my quote will be for what I think is “enough” for the character provided -I won’t do big walls of text of specific format/graphic design stuff, it’s super simple like the above examples +$50 for “concept art” if the character provided does not have a solidified design and accurate art already.

[Bundle] $75 5(five) “Shots” and 1(one) Full  -must be of the SAME character -5 body parts can be listed, otherwise I will pick them

 -I will stream some of these; because I’m not offering anonymous commissions you may not request that your piece be kept 100% private (but if it’s a gift you can ask me to not stream it or to wait longer to post it). -I will wait 3 days after delivering finished art before I post it to my galleries, to give the commissioner a chance to see if first.

 -ALL commission updates, information, edits, whatever- must be discussed by email. I will not deal with business stuff in stream chat, or any kind of private message. -You may update your commission with a prompt of equal or lesser value at any point before I have begun work, but it may increase your wait-time.

-I will not do ANY work before I have received at least 50% partial payment.

What are you getting? These are kind of a surprise, unless you’ve linked me one of my finished pieces and requested a quote- in which case you’ll get something fairly close to what you linked. Style and technique are what I feel like doing that day, quality is determined by how much you’ve paid (unless I really like how the sketch comes out and decide to spend extra, unpaid time on it). When are you getting it? These do not technically have a due-date, but I will try to have them done within 90 days of payment. The actual system, is that I will not take more of these than I could complete in a particularly-dedicated week of work. These won’t usually have that short of a turn-around, because they are lower priority than some of the other things I am working on.

—————– [YES/NO content] [YES] -you may color it yourself OR have someone else color it for you (just credit my lines separately of the edits!) -you may use this to commission fanart/fan-characters -this includes gore stuff as long as it still follows the other rules. -If you don’t know if your idea is acceptable or not, you can ASK ME and I’ll get back to you ASAP. I won’t be mean about it, I’ll just tell you “no”.

-I will send one image at the end of the sketch phase to confirm posing/character accuracy

[NO]. -no one under 18 can commission Me -if you are under 18, please do not have a friend order it for you instead! -No real people ( i can draw fictional humans, but not people who exist/ have existed)

-I can request modifications to or turn down any prompt.

————————— 

[Instructions] Fill out the form below and email that to Gbaker@gregorybakerart.com

Once I’ve received the form, I will reply with payment instructions and a quote (if relevant) -if you’re paying over $200 for your piece, you may opt for a half-now, half-later payment plan. You will be expected to provide the second half of payment after I’ve done the lineart.

[Form]

Email Title: Commission -basic Commission [your name]

(Reminder) “see reference” or “check reference” is not a good response to any part of the form. -Make sure you fill out all three sections of the form

DO NOT link ref that contains NSFW I don’t want to have to look at it while im working.

—————————

(per commission) URLs to credit (such as Weasyl, Tumblr or FA): Your paypal email: Twitch username (if you have one): (per assignment/prompt) Are free upgrades okay?: y/n [-shot], [crop], [full], [ref]: Do you want a guaranteed stream slot (+$10): y/n Add Shading: y/n *What is happening?: *Where is it happening?: Why is it happening?: Background:[no pref], [blank], [solid color], [marbled], [drawn background] *Themes/moods: colors you like: colors you hate: (* Can be as specific or vague as you want. Being less specific gives me more room to create interesting art.) (per character) Character’s name: Character owner’s URLs: Accurate picture reference: (absolutely needed, here)

If you don’t have this: +$50 for “concept art” if the character provided does not have a solidified design and accurate art already. Corrections or notes to reference: Species: Wings(+$5): y/n Eye color: Sex/Gender: Skin colors (mouth, ears, so on): Body-type: Height: (measure quadrupedal characters at the shoulder and bipedal characters at the top of the head) Personality: Clothes and accessories suggested/examples: Clothes and accessories REQUIRED: (if it’s not here I might not draw it)

[deitiesofduat]

DEITIES Update 3/7/16 -- Semi-Hiatus (on Project tumblr)

Hello everyone~ Time for an important update regarding my activity on the blog. Full details are under the cut, but TL;DR: the DEITIES Project blog will be having a semi-hiatus during the spring season -- which will roughly start in mid-March and may last thru at least the end of May. In that time, the Askbox will remain open, but other updates and tumblr content will become more sporadic and less structured.

During said hiatus, I'll continue working on DEITIES planning, research, and drafting offline, as well as addressing IRL things that require my attention. Additional updates on the DEITIES twitter and instagram will continue as normal. Thank you all for understanding and for your support/interest thus far, and for bearing with me for the next few months.

Alright here's a more thorough explanation, but yeah, wanted to give a heads up that the DEITIES Project blog will be going thru… idk if "hiatus" is quite the right word but a dry spell? Dry season?? The short of it is, I have gathered a lot of things on my plate for the next few months that require my attention -- including several inconveniences that I honestly do not want deal with, but that I need to address anyway because That's Life™

Anyway, I really didn’t want any personal stuff to interfere with my activity on the blog, but I've debated this for a while and realized that this may be unavoidable. I decided that a partial hiatus for the blog is preferable to the less ideal options of (1) taking a full hiatus from posting any progress with the project online, or (2) overwhelming myself to the point of experiencing serious burn out (y'know, before the comic even starts lmao;;; ). It's a call I'm choosing to make now for the sake of my project and for my own well being.

What this will mean for the blog is that future updates will be more sporadic than usual, and that there will be less structure for askbox themes, planned artwork, and other regular content. There's a good chance that there may be some weeks where I won't have anything to update on the blog -- something that might be more stark for those of you who've followed the blog during it's busier periods. Having said this, the askbox will remain open for any general questions and prompts, and I'll will do my best to answer them on the blog in a timely manner, but my overall responsiveness may be decreased during this break.

(( As a temporary note: I'm announcing this semi-hiatus right now but as I mentioned above the cut, it'll probably kick in around Mid march. I still have a few things I want to share on the blog that may include a few last/belated drawings for the relationships theme, and maybe a few more mixes as well to finish sharing this month o)7 Also I think?? there is a way to adjust timestamps to trick tumblr to pin a post to the top of a blog, so I'm gonna give it a try with this announcement to see if it works >>+ Okay no u can’t give it a future timestamp but you can change a past one into a current one, so I’ll try it again later ))

In the meantime, while content on the blog will decrease, I'll be adjusting my focus to offline and "behind the scenes" progress. This will include designating more time to continue drafting the main story and prelude comic; catching up on some AE textbooks and resources; and making minor edits and navigation improvements to the blog and other media. Because all of this is done privately and/or offline, this activity may not be obviously reflected on the blog, and some items will be more ambitious than others. I'll just have to hold myself accountable for that progress, and hopefully I'll have an update worth sharing by the time blog activity resumes.

Ideally, this "dry season" for the blog will not extend any later than the end of May / early June; I'll have completed some key obligations by then, and i'm also eager to try a second round of notes and artwork for Worldbuilding June, among other things I have in mind. But this is subject to change, and I'll have to play it by ear and let you all know as the date approaches.

For anyone interested in keeping up with DEITIES or with reviewing more existing content, there are a few options you're free to check out. The DEITIES Archive is a good way to review older content, and the side bar and Navigation page lists additional pages and tags for different content and artwork over the past year. DEITIES twitter and instagram will also continue with occasional updates during this break, and IG will be where I post any new pencil sketches. (Additionally, I may decide to reblog some past ask replies from last year that may be of interest, but it'll also be sporadic / not nearly as often as new ask responses). And if you're willing to help support DEITIES project via ko-fi donations, or by sharing content with others who might be interested in the project, I'd greatly appreciate it!

LASTLY!! I just want to re-emphasize my appreciation and thanks for everyone who's been interested in DEITIES project, and for following/supporting this project thus far, so I just ask for you all to bear with me and this break for the next few months. I just need to ease up activity in some areas and refocus my progress on others, both project-related and otherwise. So again, thank you everyone!

[mymusicalnostalgia]

The Little Ebayer Who Was Stupid Enough To Unintentionally Buy A Fake CD

I am a music collector. I am also a very, very, very big fan of Sia Furler as I may have mentioned more than once on this blog. For yonks, I have been trying to find her ultra rare album “OnlySee”, which only was released in Adelaide, and only around 1000 copies. 

Want is a funny thing, and when it came up on ebay for the first time ever, I was pretty excited. Never have I ever seen it on ebay before, in an op shop or a junk store. So I pounced onto the opportunity, like an idiot of course.

The seller “tommiesunshine_9″ is from the Russian Federation. That should had been my first tip off, how in the hell would a Russian guy have a copy of such a rare Australian CD, only to put it up for sale on Ebay when Sia finally becomes uber famous? The second tip off should had been that all his listings looked dodgy, he only had 1 good feedback and his account had only opened in November, 2016.

He was very nice, answered all my questions and even told me that he received the CD 18 years ago from a friend and put it in the cupboard and just forgot. Referring to this copy of this CD, he assured me not to worry, that the CD works fine.

I recently created an account on Discogs.com and put “OnlySee” into my wishlist. I didn’t know why, but I did, not realising that the website emails peopel to inform them when a CD they “want” is for sale. A listing from “A_CD_sale” who lives in the Russian Federation was up on the website.

This made my tummy turn, but I told myself that maybe it meant the ebay page and didn’t realize the listing had ended.

On Wednesday morning, things hit the proverbial when I received my CD in the mail.

Instantly, I knew it was a fake. There were printer lines on the front cover, on the inside of the insert was photocopied crease marks, the label on the CD looked stuck down as opposed to being part of the CD and, I admit it was weird to do it, but it smelt like it was straight from the press and not as musky CD from the 90s. The audio worked fine and didn’t sound too compressed for a bootleg but most people don’t clock onto that.

In some sort of pang of hope, I turned to a very great facebook community “Vinyl and CD Hoarders United” who were extremely willing to help and support me through the process, even going out of their own way to chase the ebayer around online to find out more.

I emailed him right away. 

Me: 

I received my CD today. I am a bit concerned that the CD maybe a bootleg copy. I have noticed you are selling the same copy on another website, when you told me you had a copy in the cupboard for the past 18 years. The CD also looks a bit photocopied and the disk label looks stuck on. I'm just a little bit confused and just wanted to check with you first to see what is going on.

He replied:

Hello Holly. I sold my CD. I also buy around the world the same CD cheaper and sell more expensive. I buy them at different radio stations, as there are a lot of friends. They all look the same. If you still have questions, I will gladly answer them. Thank you

Oh, as this was contradicting what he told me earlier, I certainly DID have questions and learnt that he actually wasn’t glad to answer them.

Me:

Hi Alexander, I'm just giving you the benefit of the doubt. You didn’t say that you had more copies of the cd. I thought I was buying the only copy that you had- you did say that CD (the one I was led to believe was your only copy) is in good condition. As for finding multiple other copies of the cd- I think this a bit hard to believe. The cd is extremely rare in Australia, how it could have made its way to you more than once and how I could never have found a single copy for the past 6 years I have spent searching for it is is bit interesting to me. I am just a little concerned that my CD is a copy of your original CD,  instead of an original pressing. In the description it says that the CD is in its original form but there are many signs that the CD is not an original. I am just not very convinced I have been sold an original pressing and just want to see if you can help me make sense of this all. I am happy to email you photos of why I believe this. Kind regards, Holly

His response: 

Hello Holly. You will be surprised, but this CD edition of 1,000 copies. I don't know how many of them in Australia, but you can buy them in the US and in Europe. Expensive, but you can buy. I sometimes buy on the site Discogs and other. I bought 3 of the CD. you can ask these users: Sasha_V john_kowacs VincentSound The price is different: from 90 to 120 euros. When I sell, I have only 1 CD on the purchase of the other I'm negotiating. This is my business work. I later write a history of this release. Best regards. Alexander

He kept ignoring why I thought it was a bootleg, or rather why I knew it was a bootleg. He was so insistent that eventually I came to believe that perhaps he was in some sort of belief that these CDs he was buying were real. It went like this for a bit, eventually I emailed back an apology and his response to that was:

"Thanks" for the feedback :( I bought 3 CDs in different countries and they all look the same, but not all were new. I sold you my CD that I bought in US in 1998 and immediately put on the shelf in the closet. I wrote to my friend, who worked in Treehouse Studio. I showed him your pictures. He said part of the printing were exactly the same quality. In 1997, they had little money and half the copies were printed at a cheap printing factory. So your doubts are vain. Thankyou very much, Alexander.

I tried googling Treehouse Studio’s for any trace, but to no avail. Under the advice of my boyfriend, I then emailed the producer of OnlySee Jesse Flavell who was very nice to respond, but couldn’t fully validate the CD. If he had been able to see it in person, he would have known right away it was a fake.

Now I was going to leave it at that, then I remembered that he had sent me those usernames to message on Discogs.com to validate the purchase of my CD. Two of the names weren’t registered, but “Sasha_V” was. As soon as I clicked onto “Sasha’s” profile, I noticed something was a miss.

Sasha had been nice enough to post their email address onto their profile for anyone interested in their music collection. I was interested in why this person who was apparently a whole other person to Alex had the same email address that Alex uses to receive paypal funds. Smuggly, I emailed “Sasha” pretending I thought they were a different person and of course  he replied and signed off as Sasha.

After emailing paypal, ebay and discogs, I sent him a message:

There's nothing vain about the paypal claim I have sent you. Let's cooperate with this one, please. All my evidence is in the message on paypal. I am tired, disappointed and just want my money back. H.

When confronted about this, Alexander deleted the email and then proceeded to try and tell me that it is his personal profile because “Sasha” is a nickname for Alexander. Yet again, ignoring the fact that he told me that was another persons page.

The message I sent him via paypal:

I am requesting a refund as I feel that you have sent me a bootleg copy of  the album OnlySee and have not been truthful about this.

I received a CD that appears to be a fake as the insert has a crease  photocopied, and there are two black boarders- one inside the other which  is noticeable in the shininess of the glossy paper, the label on the disk  seems to be stuck down, as opposed to being part of the CD and there are  printer marks all over the front cover.

Look, you have contradicted yourself many times through this lengthy and  exhausting process. All I wanted was for you to admit that my copy of the  CD was a fake. However, I did then convince myself that maybe you  bought them believing they are the real deal from other sellers.

Luckily you sent me through the names of some users on the website  Discogs who I could ask to validate the CD for me. Now I am more than  CERTAIN that you have been knowingly selling fake copies of CDs. Yet  again conveniently for you, the two other profile names you sent me  weren’t on the website but one was. “Sasha_V”. You have posted the same  email address on the profile of “Sasha_V” that you use for your own Paypal  account, proving to me that you have a fake profile to convince me the CD  was fine.

You also replied to me on discogs and signed off as Sasha, lying to me yet  again, under a different name to yours, Alexander.

Are you going to continue to lie to me when this proves exactly what I  suspected in the first place?

I paid $258.59 AUD ($180.00 USD) for a CD that you mislead me into  believing was an original pressing. I have screen shots of your fake profile  on discogs (including a listing of OnlySee that mysteriously disappeared  when I questioned my purchase), copies of our correspondence, and finally  I have been emailing the producer of the album to check it’s validation and  guess what? He was kind enough to email me back.

To semi quote you, are my doubts still “in vain”?

I would like my money back please.

He eventually gave me a partial refund. It was more the principal than the money for me. He also sent me an additional $6.00 and links to a drop box which holds Sia’s disography. I deleted and blocked his email and sent back the bribe, not wanting to find out if it was riddled with trojan viruses or not.

He never did admit that the CD was not real.

All websites are currently looking into his accounts.

His only follower on ebay also lives in the Russian Federation. 

If you feel that you have been stung by this same ebayer, or would like some advice, hit me up in the inbox. 

You aren’t alone, even the smartest of people get screwed over. 

Remember that you have all the power.