#[will grimm ever manage more than 1 reply a day??]

[grimowled]

[dontcallmecarrie]

replying to @kine-iende​, who commented on this post:

A great way for the rivalry with richards to start and thankfully no stalking susan in this AU. .. victor is an arkward dork - i really like this version of him

.

I’m very glad you liked him!

I...should probably preface this by saying that I have next to no knowledge about how Victor von Doom’s like in the comics, so apologies if he’s wildly OOC— I’m mostly basing his characterization off the two (2) movies I last saw over a decade ago, and taking quite a few creative liberties in trying to get them to fit into the MCU. 

Under the read-more, because this got long.

But yeah, in this AU, he’s a disaster. 

Almost a lovable disaster, if he weren’t, y’know, literally a dictator with diplomatic immunity. As it is, he is the king of mixed signals and keeps everyone on their toes because his social skills peaked sometime during his boarding school days, and it’s only been downhill ever since. 

It’s... a Problem™. 

The people that know him understand, but those are few and far between— apart from his most trusted advisors in Latveria, aka the guys who fought alongside him during the civil war, Justin’s probably one of the only people alive who can read him and knows he’s a mess who pretends he knows what he’s doing.

The rest of the world, meanwhile, is stuck dealing with the stoic, short-tempered dictator with an incredible poker face and tendency for terrifying glares, long silences and a reputation for being a terrifying badass when he wants to be. 

He is the worst person to be stuck with the job of being Latveria’s reintroduction to the outside world, but until Zemo finishes wrapping up his degree in international relations [...and gets out of the habit of shooting his problems, there’s that, too], they’re stuck with him as the most qualified person for this mess.

You can imagine how well that goes. 

...which ties in with the following:

.

When it comes to the whole situation with the Fantastic Four, I’ve been grappling with how much they’re going to show up in the main AU. Mostly because if we’re going with this ship, here’s how I’d picture it going down:

Victor von Doom is a mess.

How the hell nobody seemed to notice was anyone’s guess, but he was self-aware enough to know this current situation in the political was less than ideal.

If he weren’t also a student, it probably wouldn’t have been nearly as bad, but. He’d put his life on hold for long enough, he couldn’t help but be selfish just this once. 

Pursuing a degree while trying to catch up with his oldest friend? Nobody could begrudge him of that, surely. Not after everything he’d done, everything he’d survived.

And even if they did, screw them. 

Ahem. 

Victor had been pleasantly surprised to discover he’d done remarkably well on the placement exams, and as he went through the program, found he...was apparently on a different level to most of his classmate. Of his entire program, there was exactly one (1) person who he found tolerable, intellectually speaking.

Reed Richards truly was a worthy opponent, when it came to competing for top marks. 

...now if only the man could get his act together in his personal life, their rivalry would be perfect. 

Maybe Victor was being overly critical; maybe he simply had unrealistic standards, after living the life he had. But he simply could not understand how someone as bright as Richards was capable of being so foolishly idiotic when it came to the people around him. 

How he could have a friend as loyal as Grimm, how he and Storm managed to even get together in the first place was a mystery to Victor— not that he had room to talk, he knew. But at least Victor knew to treat those close to him with care, no matter how clumsily his efforts came across. Even if it was the bare minimum of getting flowers and donuts for the front desk staff once a week, for having to deal with his scheduling mishaps and the odd minor incident.

Richards couldn’t even manage that with his girlfriend.

No wonder she left him. 

It sounded harsh, but. Victor couldn’t help but think it, even as he dealt with the aftermath. 

...which, okay, in retrospect maybe offering Susan a job as a cultural facilitator at the Latverian embassy wasn’t one of his brightest moments in regards to timing. Still. 

The dirty looks were uncalled for. 

Even though he’d take those, over the way both Susan and her bratty little brother kept looking over at him, sharing a look, and muttering something that had the brat honest-to-goodness giggling. It happened seemingly at random, and he had yet to find out what was so funny. He’d asked more than once, and Susan had merely said, “oh, just admiring your friendship” with an admirably straight face, while at her side, Johnny wheezed. 

Victor wisely chose to not ask why.

Or why they immediately started gossiping again, as he finished packing up his things and got ready to head out and visit his best friend.

Offscreen, this conversation absolutely happened at some point:

Johnny: you’re sure he doesn’t just want—

Susan: he’s gay.

Johnny: wait, really? Mr. tall, dark, and broody over here? The grumpy bastard who spends about as much time as Reed in the labs, and never smiles?

Susan: I know how it looks, but yes. Get him talking about his crush and he does a 180, it’s great. 

Johnny: I’m sorry, are we talking about the same guy?

Susan: yeah, he... I’ll know I found the right guy when I find someone who looks at me the way Victor does when he’s talking about his crush.

[luna-spacedoodles]

Spoiler: Rules Were Broken

A Dream Smp x Ever After High AU

Word count: 1,599

Chapter 1 A Royal Tale

Tommy hauled his wagon full of luggage up to the school as Tubbo

walked alongside him with his hands in his pockets.

Tommy grunted to a stop, “Dude why, why can’t you like, help me? Where even is your stuff?”

“All in here, boss man.” Tubbo tipped his comically tiny top hat and Tommy heard a small quack come from inside.

“I- okay can you help me then please?” Tubbo grabbed the handle alongside him and they pulled it together all the way to their dorm.

Tommy bust open the doors and threw a suitcase on his bed quickly following it and flopping in defeat. Tubbo didn’t even make it to his bed before Tommy heard a thud behind him. He didn’t know how long they’d stayed like that until he heard Tubbo placing down his things. Tommy lifted his head to see all his furniture was already there, that was one thing he didn’t have to set up at least.

Tommy opened up his suitcase and started messily throwing the clothes inside to his right, not all of them made it on the bed. Most of them fell onto the floor or got caught on the banister.

“Oh stop dude you’re making a mess.” Tubbo told him after he got a face full of shirt.

“Shut up man, you’re wrong you’re so wrong, I’m being so neat and tidy and shit!” Tommy retaliated only to throw another shirt.

“You literally just missed the bed so far.” Tubbo let out a small laugh at the end and kicked some shorts off his hammock.

Tommy groaned and went to pick up his failed attempts, “Well don’t just sit there if you’re going to groan about it, come help me man!”

“You don’t need my help, you're just shit. Besides I already finished setting up my stuff so that just makes you look even more shit at this.”

“But that’s not fair you got here earlier than me! And it’s not even true, there’s still a whole other half of the room and you’ve just invaded into my space!”

Just as he finished the two boys heard the door open and someone step inside, they both turned to look at someone Tommy had never seen before. He was quite tall and looked funny, his skin was black and white split down the middle of his face, same with his hair but flipped around. He had wide open red and green eyes that seemed fake, like they were made of glass, open far too wide and he didn’t seem to ever blink, yet it seemed the boy was doing everything he could to avoid making eye contact with either of them. Maybe that was a good thing, they didn’t seem like eyes that’d be pleasant to stare at. He had tall horns atop his head and two tails as well, one black and the other white.

“What the fuck??” Tommy shouted raspily in confusion over the unexpected guest.

“Uhm, hi.” The boy managed to spit out as he tightened his grip on his luggage.

“I think you have the wrong room.” Tommy crossed his arms and lent against the bed, he slipped a bit trying to balance himself.

“No he’s got the right room.” Tubbo butted in, he adjusted himself to sit on the edge of the hammock so his feet dangled over the floor.

“What?” The boy and Tommy asked in unison.

“Yeah, something about a student miscalculation or whatever, not enough dorms so we all have to share.”

Tommy looked at the new guy, this wasn’t what he wanted or planned for but there wasn’t much he could do about it.

—

Tommy woke up to a sudden heavy weight on his stomach. Tommy lifted his head and rubbed his eyes to see a blond raccoon with a red handkerchief tied around its neck laid out flat on his stomach, it’s little arms and legs stretched out.

“Oh, hello!” Tommy cooed at the raccoon, giving it some scratches and pats as it chuckled and rolled around in delight. He looked out the window, it was still dark out but he could spot the sun’s light barely reaching over the horizon. Tommy wondered if it was too early to sneak out his dorm and go walk in the forest before breakfast, wasn’t much to do and he didn’t really feel like going back to sleep so taking a quick walk wouldn’t be that bad.

He got dressed and slipped on a white cloak and a small brown backpack as well. Tommy quietly snuck out the window and climbed down the vines on the side of the wall, before he could lift his head up the raccoon had already jumped and landed flat on his face.

“Clementine, I told you to wait.” Tommy groaned muffled under Clementine, she only replied with some chittering that sounded close to laughter as Tommy pulled her off his face. He looked at her and couldn’t bring himself to scold her anymore than that, how could he stay mad at that face. He let her scuttle over him and sit in the open backpack as they walked off into the forest.

On their walk they saw many different creatures and plants, they even stopped by the pond on their way back. By the time they’d gotten back into the dorm the sun was rising and Tommy’s pockets were full of small flowers, pebbles and anything else he could fit inside, even Clementine had a large hoard of berries she’d picked for her breakfast.

Before Ranboo or Tubbo had the chance to wake up Tommy and Clementine were already out the door and on their way to the castleteria, leaving the cloak and bag stuffed back inside the wardrobe. Dashing down the stairs and through the halls he skidded to a stop in front of the castleteria doors, rocking and bouncing back and forth waiting for the doors to open. A bell chimed, the doors opened and Tommy ran up to get his breakfast.

The lunch lady gave him a stack of pancakes with a side of eggs and sausage, he ran off with his tray and sped towards a lone table tucked in a corner. Despite running here full of energy he ate surprisingly slow, Clementine stuffed her face into her berry pile next to him. Students soon flooded into the castleteria including Tubbo and their new roommate, they walked up the stairs to his table and sat down with him.

“Hey Tommy!” Tubbo set down his tray and immediately started eating.

“Hi Tubbo,” Tommy looked up from his food and started at Ranboo, “…Hi Ranboo…”

“Hi.” The boy replied awkwardly, he didn’t seem like he wanted to make any conversation but Tommy didn’t want to talk to him anyway.

Clementine stopped her feasting and hissed in at Ranboo, running onto Tommy’s back and peaking at the stranger over his shoulder. Or maybe it was the gross looking fish soup she was eyeing, Ranboo slid the small bowl over as an offering and Clementine jumped for it, adding it to her stash. Tommy made a funny look at the soup before he went back to his own breakfast.

“ATTENTION STUDENTS!” The castleteria fell silent as everyone turned to look at Headmaster Grimm standing on the balcony, “As Legacy Day is coming very soon, today we’ll be practicing for it! During one of your classes you’ll be led out to practice pledging to follow your destiny and signing the Storybook of Legends! Thank you for your time, please continue your breakfast.”

—

Tommy walked out with the rest of the class to the stage, the place was white and regal, two large staircases either side of the stage and a pedestal at the front. They all lined up in alphabetical order of their last name and took turns practicing.

“Next!” Grimm called Ranboo up. Tommy watched him take the key and walk up to the pedestal.

“Uhm. I, Ranboo Queen, pledge to follow my destiny to be the next Evil… Queen? King?” Ranboo turned to look at Grimm, “Did I do that right?”

“It’s uh, it’ll do.” Grimm replied, taking back the key.

Tommy zoned out for a bit — That was Ranboo Queen? That’s the guy that was gonna poison him? He’d heard lots of mean things about how his destiny goes. He stared at the ground reconsidering how he felt about this guy.

“Next!” Grimm yelled, Tommy looked up and realized he was calling him up. He walked up to him and silently took the key.

“I! Uhm..” Tommy turned around to Grimm, “I have a question?”

“Yes?” Grimm sighed.

“It’s just, what if I don’t want to follow my destiny? Like, what if I want to do my own thing?” Everyone gasped loudly, Grimm looked shocked and angry, he strode over to him and Tommy backed up against the pedestal.

“Now listen here, if you don’t sign that book, your story will go poof. You will go poof.” Grimm stepped back and Tommy inhaled deeply only now realizing he’d been holding his breath, “Now I recommend we move on and continue.”

Tommy turned around and looked out on the crowd, everyone was staring at him judgingly, he looked down at the key in his hand. He threw it harshly onto the ground and started running as fast as he could from there, Clementine jumped off a chair she’d been watching from and scampered after him. Tommy grabbed his cloak from the dorm and ran into a place he knew no one would find him.

[good-rwbyaus]

What about an AU where everyone had somehow been under the mistaken assumption that Ruby was a professor at Beacon? For a laugh, Ozpin rolls with it whenever he's asked about it.

Becoming :: mod lilac :: Part 1 out of 2. 

What about an AU where everyone had somehow been under the mistaken assumption that Ruby was a professor at Beacon? For a laugh, Ozpin rolls with it whenever he's asked about it. 

Test

“You cannot be serious, Headmaster!” Goodwitch burst into the room just as Headmaster Ozpin made his offer of early entry into Beacon. Ruby couldn’t help but grimace at the Huntress’s words - they hurt, especially since they came from someone she admired so. 

“Oh? But weren’t you singing praises about young Miss Rose earlier?” Ozpin spoke with a hint of joviality. “What was it? Amazing potential, excellent coordination, sharp eyes, animalistic instinc-”

Wait wha-

“All of what I spoke is what she could become in the future,” Goodwitch objected, “She’s still too young. Hasn’t even completed her training back at Signal. If you bring her to Beacon, she’ll just be building on an unstable foundation - who knows when she’ll topple over?”

“There’s too much she’s lacking in, “ the Huntress continued, “She hasn’t developed the muscle mass to fully control her weapon. And her situational awareness is poor, especially when she tunnel visions like what she did tonight.” 

Ozpin nodded his head at Goodwitch’s assessment. The gesture made her feel like a rock settled into her stomach, and the man’s following words didn’t help.

“Excellent points,” Ozpin agreed before he turned his head to her, “What do you have to say Miss Rose?”

Her eyes were like a deer in headlights, open and wide. She couldn’t lose this chance. She wanted to fight against the Grimm. And a day sooner she got into Beacon was a day sooner she’ll become a Huntress. She could stay at Signal, but... 

“I know Professor Goodwitch is right,” Ruby agreed hesitantly, “I’m lacking in a lot, probably so much that I don’t even know what I’m lacking. But Signal... Signal won’t help me.” She closed her eyes and sighed, “I’m tired of watching from the sides because the teachers are afraid I’ll break my fellow students’ confidence.” She trembled before gritting her teeth, “I’m tired of being left alone because the teachers think I’m already in a good place and there’s so many others that need help. They just tell me that everything will come with time and to practice on my own.”

“There’s only so much I can do learning through books and training by myself,” Ruby quietly said, “And my dad and uncle are busy with Hunter business and teaching. I can’t take too much of their time just because I want training.”

She shifted her feet uneasily before repeating, “I know I’m lacking, but Signal will not help me find those things. So please let me into Beacon.”

“All I ever wanted was to fight the Grimm. I want to become a Huntress. I never wanted anything else,” she bowed her head quietly, not able to meet either of them in the eyes, “Please give me a chance.”

The silence in the air was palpable, almost as if it could be sliced. It lingered, and she could feel Professor Goodwitch’s gaze pierce through her. Seconds felt like minutes as time dragged on, and before she could speak to get rid of the unnerving quiet, Goodwitch spoke first. 

“Beacon Academy’s Initiation will start in two months,” Goodwitch sternly stated, rapping the table with her riding crop. The woman looked straight into her eyes. “You will inform your family and then report to Beacon Academy tomorrow. Be forewarned that if you do not have what it takes, I do not want to hear anything more about early entry. Understand?”

Ruby lifted her head, eyes shimmering in excited tears. Professor Ozpin looked both amused and perturbed as he looked over at Professor Goodwitch and then herself. Professor Goodwitch looked every bit the strict disciplinarian waiting for her answer.

“Yes, I’ll do it! I won’t let you down. Thank you Professor Goodwitch. Headmaster Ozpin!”

----

Training

Metal barrels and chunks of asphalt flew swiftly through the fields, trying to tag its red-clad target. Meanwhile, bullets shot through the air trying to pierce into her Psychokinetic assailer. 

A sniper bullet managed to avoid her barrier of floating debris, forcing Glynda to step back to dodge it, the air in its wake stinging her eyes. Clearly, Miss Rose was getting used to this level of attack - the local masonry was no longer adequate. It seems that after three weeks of training this girl in the guise of testing she’ll yet again need to bring another element into play. 

The Disciplinarian - her weapon - swung towards the ground, her Aura channeled deep within the earth. 

“Ah!” 

The red-cloaked girl stumbled half-way from the miniature earthquake that was created. Large chunks of dirt and rock, larger than Miss Rose herself, floated into the air courtesy of her Psychokinesis before rushing to crush the girl in their midst. 

And just as she expected, Miss Rose performed marvelously. 

The girl quickly found her footing and bounced amidst the floating debris. A slice subtly cut through one of the boulders, so fine that she failed to see it at first - followed by a bullet from her blind spot. Glynda had already moved to duck under that follow-up bullet, and she couldn’t help but mentally complement Miss Rose's tactics, which were only inadequate due to not knowing the depths of her opponent. Had she been a student at Beacon instead, that would’ve been a fight-ending blow. 

Miss Rose would’ve been wasted at Signal. This girl was not meant to be a greenhouse flower, safely nurtured until she was ready to be brought out in the world. She was a wild rose, meant to grow in hardship and become all the more beautiful for it. Her presence in Signal - the other teachers must’ve sensed it somehow - was detrimental to the class; to them, she was like a weed that had to be kept in check lest it strangle the rest of the greenhouse. 

She knew this because she was the same way when she came into her Semblance - Psychokinesis - and became all too aware of the differences in capabilities between Hunters. 

Two more years at Signal would’ve ruined this girl. They would’ve dulled the girl’s sharp instincts like when she and Miss Rose first met. 

...Truthfully Beacon might not be the right fit for her either. 

“Argh, shit Glynda. Is beating on me really that fun?” the girl yelled accusingly as she bounced off against a floating rock. 

Oh whoops she was smiling. Glynda shifted her expression to something more neutral, but she couldn’t help but internally grin.

Their relationship had gotten a lot more casual a week in. Politeness tends to go out the window when exploding barrels were involved. 

“I’m only happy that I’ll be sending an inadequate student back to the institution she needs to go back too,” Glynda replied in a deadpan, flinging a volatile-marked barrel into the battlefield. 

“Oh fuck y-”

Boom.

---

Hunt

“What do you think, Peter, Bart?” Glynda said almost proudly as if introducing a prized student to an audience. Peter gazed upon the red-cloaked girl amidst the pack of Beowolves, many of which were turning to smoky wisps from her scythe blade. Even at this distance, she could see the girl’s every move, every strike an efficient take-down. 

“I’m feeling sorry for those Beowolves. Did you teach her how to be so...?” Port said quizzically as he saw the girl flip onto the back of a Beowolf, scythe at its neck - a single click later, and the Beowulf’s head was sailing over her.

“So?” Glynda questioned.

“So vicious. She’s really not scared about close combat” Peter commented, “Bit unusual, given her weapon’s part sniper rifle.” He observed as the girl rolled underneath a Grimm’s legs, only to swing the scythe from underneath. Urk. He squeezed his legs together at the phantom pain brought from that strike - Bartholomew did the same. 

“It wasn’t me. She came like that,” Glynda shrugged her shoulders, snorting briefly at the males’ sympathetic reactions, “Honestly, I didn’t expect this when I let her loose.” 

“...She was born to Hunt,” Bartholomew commented as he sipped from his thermos, “Probably more than me and either of you. Look at her face. She’s smiling. 

“...She’s smiling,” Glynda said quietly.

All three pensively watched as their soon-to-be-charge gleefully tore through the Grimm with a grin on her face, scythe reaping through them like they were wheat on the fields. 

----

Meeting

“How do you feel?” Headmaster Ozpin asked with a smile, “I heard you had an exciting two months.” Ruby and the Headmaster were standing together at the landing hall, observing the other students arrive for orientation. 

“Like coming out of a dream,” Ruby sighed happily as she hugged Crescent Rose’s folded form. “It was everything I wanted and more.” 

“I wouldn’t have thought you would look fondly on what other students call Professor Goodwitch’s Ego-Crushing Disciplinary Course,” he chuckled, “Of course, those students have far less friendly names for it.”

He couldn’t help but feel perturbed though when Ruby stared at him in confusion.

“Why wouldn’t I like it? She pushed me to my limits and more,” Ruby stretched, “Same with the other professors.” Her gaze shifted away from him, a little hesitant and guilty, "But I’m having a feeling that Beacon regularly isn’t that exciting.”

“No, it isn’t,” the Headmaster said, “But you’ll be provided opportunities to go into the field as needed, though you’ll still be required to join a team and interact with them.”

“Those never did go well back when I was at Signal,” she grumpily said.

“You’re speaking as if that were ages ago. You’ve only been in Beacon for two months,” Ozpin chuckled. 

“It felt so much shorter. Guess time flies when you’re having fun,” Ruby laughed before rubbing her hand against a silver badge on her chest.   

“Hmm, what’s that?”

“Bar- I mean, Doctor Oobleck and Professor Port were joking about how I deserved a reward for surviving Professor Goodwitch,” Ruby laughed, “So they gave me a badge that's been defunct for a while, back from when Vale determined the seniority of a Hunter based on Grimm kills. Apparently this is the highest accolade.”

“Oh, should I be worried then about my position, Professor Rose?” Ozpin quirked an amused eyebrow. 

“Maybe~ I don’t know. I’d rather be out in the field. Never did like the classroom, “ Ruby grumbled, “Even more so now...Hopefully, being with the other students won’t be too bad.”

”Looking down on your peers already, Professor Rose?”

”Stop calling me that, Headmaster,” Ruby hopped up and down angrily, “People might get the wrong idea. And it’s not that I’m looking down on them. I’m just not used to competent teammates. Don’t worry though. Professor Goodwitch stressed to me the importance of a team. No good Hunter hunts alone.”

”Wise words. Perhaps you should hold some classes.”

”Stop joking around.”

“Who said I was joking?”

Little did the fuming Ruby know that there were some people that caught bits and parts of their conversation and that they were prepared to take those words very seriously.

------

Rumors

“Holy shit. Did you see that video of that girl decapitating that Nevermore?” 

“Yup. Can’t decide whether the Deathstalker kill by Team JNPR or the Nevermore kill from Team RWBY was better.”

“Probably team JNPR’s kill, since they’re actually a bunch of students. I heard team RWBY’s leader is already a professor here.”

“You’re fucking with me.”

“No joke. They say she just can’t get full professorship because of her age. Apparently she’s a combat prodigy from Signal, and she came to Beacon two years early to fast-track into a professorship. I mean, do you think the team being named after her is a coincidence?” 

“Hey, guys! You’re talking about Professor Rose, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So I personally heard the Headmaster call her Professor Rose before. A lot of people have during orientation actually. It’s just that it’s all supposed to be on the down-low. She’s on first-name basis with all the professors. Heard her call Professor Goodwitch by her first name when they’re in private.”

“She has balls. If I called Professor Goodwitch by her first name, I’d probably end up missing both of mine.”

“I didn’t need that imagery thanks. But if you want any proof, take a look at her badge. That’s an official Vale Hunter’s badge if you search online for it. Bit old and dated, but it exists.”

“Guess I shouldn’t ask to copy her homework then. Can I copy yours?”

“No. Go do your own.”

“Dang it.”

[bridgyrose]

May I ask for more Summer is Queen of Vale AU, please? During class, Summer has a unexpected heart attack and is rushed to emergency by Qrow and Tai, while Raven calls GoD in panic. After the brothers arrive, the doctor explains that Summer needs a heart transplant, which both gods go out to get. They return with a Grimm heart, which shocks everyone. GoD, although reluctant, explains that this is the only way to save Summer. GoL agrees, despite explaining the very dangerous benefits. (1/2)

Raven paced the halls of the hospital, staring at her scroll. After Summer had collapsed from that heart attack, she felt… useless. Here she was, standing around when her team leader needed her. And all she could do was wait for Summer’s uncles to come back. 

Qrow stepped out of the room with Tai, leaning his back against the wall. “She’ll be fine Rae.” 

“You dont know that!” Raven snapped at him. “You heard the doctor! She needs a heart transplant! Do you even know how long the waiting list is for that?!” 

“I didnt realize that was something you cared about. Or knew.” 

Tai sighed and stepped between Raven and Qrow. “Her uncles will take care of everything. You saw how worried they were when they found out.” 

Raven sighed and sat down, leaning against the wall. “Yeah… you’re right…” 

The God of Light and his brother quickly rushed down the hall, carrying a small box. “We have a heart for transplant!” 

Raven, Qrow, and Tai all opened the door for Summer’s uncles, keeping close to them. Part of them were curious on how they managed to get a heart so quickly, knowing full well the answer wasnt exactly going to be one they wanted to hear. Even for the bandits. 

The doctor looked the two men over before accepting the box they presented. “I’m… not going to ask where you found a heart so quickly.” 

The God of Darkness hesitated for a moment. “Yeah… about that…” 

The doctor opened the box, staring inside at the contents. “This… this has to be a joke..” 

“I’m afraid not. We need you to put this grimm heart inside of Summer.” 

The doctor, Raven, Qrow, and Tai all looked at the two men as if they were insane. No one had ever managed to get a grimm organ out without it disappearing, and even then, transplanting one into a human was unthinkable. 

The God of Darkness continued. “Its… going to be the only way to save Summer. If there was any other way, I’d make sure we could have another heart, but with her history, we dont have a choice.” 

The God of Light nodded in solemn agreement. “She can handle having the heart inside of her. Its… dangerous, but it’ll keep her safe. And in a way, allow for her to control grimm.” 

The doctor sighed and sat the box down. “I need all of you to go into the waiting room then while I take her into operation-” 

“I’ll need to assist you.” The God of Darkness looked the doctor in the eye. “And dont say you cant let me assist. Without my knowledge, Summer wont survive this.” 

“And you dont have the medical expertise-” 

“Have you ever dealt with a grimm heart? This one was taken straight from an ursa. It’s delicate to work with, more fragile than a human heart. One wrong move and you’ll destroy it.” 

“Fine,” the doctor replied. “But no one else can assist.” 

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

Summer started to wake up, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. The last she remembered was being in class and her chest hurting. 

“How are you feeling?” 

Summer looked over to her side to see her uncles watching over her. “I’m… fine. Sore, but fine.” 

The God of Light nodded, sitting down and relaxing. “That’s good. I was… a bit worried that my brother may have caused you some trouble.” 

“What do you mean?” 

The God of Darkness sighed. “You… had a heart attack. A severe one that ripped one of the ventricles. So… we had to give you a very specific heart transplant.” 

The God of Light nodded. “You have a grimm heart inside of you now.” 

Summer sighed and shook her head as she leaned back. “A grimm heart… that is… the craziest thing I have ever heard from either of you. But… Thank you.” 

The God of Darkness smiled a bit. “You should be thanking your team. They’re the ones who made sure we knew what was happening.” 

Summer looked over to her other side, watching her team sleep near her, a smile creeping up on her face. She reached over to Raven, who seemed to be the only one laying her head on the bed, and gently stroking her hair, glad to have a team who cared about her. “I owe them so much.” 

The God of Light stood up and smiled at his niece. “You should rest too. You’ve had a long day.” 

Summer nodded and yawned, moving over slightly to get closer to Raven.

[con-fection]

ASHES TO ASHES | jim moriarty x reader | part 1/13

Summary: 

Jim Moriarty has always loved fairytales. In particular, grim, macabre ones that end in bloodshed. You've been abused by your step-family for years - in every meaningful way, you embody the story of Cinderella. Except, in your version, Cinderella murders her family and burns the house down. When Sherlock Holmes is assigned to find the killers of your step-family, he inadvertently becomes obsessed with you. And when Sherlock is obsessed, Jim Moriarty becomes a man intrigued.Word Count: 4k 

Most fairy tales follow the same format. A lovely, picturesque life, subsequently followed by a tragedy, a period of hardship, all of which is solved by the power of love. The dashing prince saves the damsel in distress, and they remain happy and in love forever, having easily recovered from the trauma of the tragedy and hardship.

Originally, fairy tales did not end quite so nicely. They were macabre, morbid and horrifying. Just as real-life has a tendency to be.  They weren't an idyllic escape from everyday life. They were nightmarish stories that reflected the fears of society.

By 1815, The Brothers Grimm had compiled several stories, among them The Frog Prince, Hansel and Gretel, Little Red Riding Hood, Rapunzel... and Cinderella.

The latter had always, always been your favourite. You had memorised every line, every word, every single mark of punctuation. You could recite every single version of the story off-by-heart. All of the variations sparked a deep-rooted curiosity in you.

How could the same story end so differently?

All that changed was the person reciting the story - and they would chip away at it, changing it piece by piece, passing it down orally, until it was barely recognisable. In some versions, the characters got their happy ending. Cinderella would marry her Prince Charming with the help of her Fairy Godmother. In others, they didn't. One of her vile step-sisters will hack off parts of their feet and marry Prince Charming, and Cinderella would be left alone.

Sometimes minor aspects of the story would change. Different variations would feature doves, her dead Mother, fairies, and occasionally, the glass slipper would be golden.

Your version was entirely different to anything imagined before.

...unbeknownst to you, however, was the fact that you weren't the only person that liked grim fairytales.

---

Your mother's battle with her myriad of diseases had been one that had defined your childhood. She had been ever-so frail, perpetually in and out of hospitals, constantly deteriorating. There was more than one occasion where you had watched her drop to the floor, her body entirely limp, and you had to be the one to call the ambulance. There were always, always, blood-soaked handkerchiefs strewn around the house.

She was plagued by illness, and in some ways you were suffering just as much as she was. Most children were afforded the luxury of not having to confront the idea of death - often they simply could not even comprehend it. You weren't so lucky as to experience that naivety.

There had been no play-dates for you, there was no time to entertain any other children when each moment had the potential to be her last. Every single waking moment was occupied with the crippling, gut-wrenching fear that one day she might fall down and that the paramedics wouldn't be able to find a pulse.

Every night you would go to bed praying that she would be there in the morning, that she would get her happy ending, that she could read your favourite fairy-tale to you night after night.

"And Cinderella and Prince Charming lived happily ever after, the end!" She would say, smiling brightly as if she hadn't read this to you so many times that she was bored of it. Your mother could probably recite it by heart now, too.

"Do we get a happily ever after, Mommy?" You had asked one night, right after your mother had set the book of fairy-tales down on your bedside table.

"If you pray, God will answer."  She replied, ever-so-vaguely, fiddling with the little golden cross necklace dangling between her collarbones. Now you can recognise that she didn't look surprised by your question, rather, she was in the throes of longing for that happily ever after.

You liked 'happily ever after'. It was a comforting lie that you would willingly believe. In 'happily ever after' there was no pain - in your idea of a happy ending, your mother would recover and you wouldn't burst into tears the moment she staggered out of the room.

But 'happily ever after' had to come after years of torment and misery. It always did. There was no story in which the protagonist began happy and remained that way for all eternity. That would be dreadfully boring, and yet it was what you yearned for the most. Boring and happy would be good.

Her death was a mercy - quick and painless, in her sleep. Her funeral was equally as brief as her life, a bleak affair that you can hardly recall. You had been so, so young then, and the tears just wouldn't stop coming, rolling down your face as your chest wracked with sobs. You can't remember much about it, other than the feeling of your father's hand on your shoulder and the awful, almighty bitterness that threatened to send you to your knees.

Naturally, your mother's funeral had been one of the worst days of your life. She looked so small, so ashen in her casket. Her lips were completely unmoving, drawn into a thin line. Never again would she recite your favourite bedtime story. She didn't look like she was sleeping, not when all vibrancy had been removed from her skin, to the point where it was practically grey and she smelled like a chemical preservative that made you wrinkle your nose and sob even harder.

But, even worse than the funeral had been the wedding.

It had been horrifically easy for your father to move on, and to find comfort in your step-mother, Verona. You had only met her once before they were married.

"Honey, I want you to meet somebody." Your father had said. He looked so happy, smiling in a way that you hadn't seen him do since before your mother died, his lips curved upwards and a strange look in his eyes. "This is Verona, and she means a lot to me."

He looked at Verona the same way that you looked at your fairy-tales. They were an escape, a place where you could pretend that things were different and that you were happy. Verona, with her perfectly curled hair and pearly-white teeth, was his escape, his happy ending. You wanted so badly for her to be yours, as well. It wasn't to be.

"Hello," She cooed down at you. She could smile so sweetly, her peach-pink lips drawn upwards to reveal just a flash of white teeth. It was so saccharine, so lovely. Her voice could take on this mellow, melodic tone. It reminded you terribly of a siren's call - beautiful, and so, so alluring, but it wasn't something that you should put your trust in unless you wanted to drown. Verona always looked down at you - there never came a point where you were to be considered an equal. Never.

There was something about her that made your skin crawl. She was a vile lady, with a wicked grin, honey-blonde hair and long nails that looked like talons. To you as a child, you came to view her as practically a witch, clawing her way into your life just to destroy it for her own amusement. Your father was completely and utterly blind, incapable of seeing any flaw within her.

Now that you were older, you could see her as more than a one-dimensional figure that was simply labelled 'the villain'. She wasn't a nice person, not by your account, but she was complex. Verona was always distant from you, eternally glacial and condescending whenever nobody was watching. She wasn't like that to everybody, though.

Along with the step-mother came two of what you had assumed to be Satan's most accomplished demons. They had inherited a fascinating ability from their mother. The instant your father was in the room, all torment would cease. Whether it be pulling your hair, or vandalising your possessions, they had an innate ability to tell whenever your father was close by.

Verona loved them. It was the only time where she seemed to be genuine in her affection. She would dote on them constantly, cooing at them and reading them stories in the same way that your mother had once done for you. She could pretend to tolerate you in public, and at first, you had lapped it up, basking in her siren's call voice and gazing upon her like she could be your escape, too, like she was something to be cherished, to be worshipped.

She bombarded you with an eternal cycle of love - so much love that you couldn't even feel the pain of losing your mother. She would treat you like you were her own daughter. She would pat you on the head and speak to you so sweetly. And after, would always come the abuse. The screaming, the slapping, the hissed remarks, the threats.

It was hard to deify her after that. So, Verona became the villain, the terrible step-mother who was always there to hold you down.

The wedding itself had been hosted at the very same church your parents had been married in. Their vows were exchanged between what you remembered to be Verona's awful giggles, and you yourself had been a flower girl, along with your step-sisters.

Somehow you managed to feel even worse than you had at your mother's funeral. It wasn't really acceptable to scream and cry at a wedding, so you did your best to look at the very least neutral.

You had spent most of the day staring at the gaudy paper garlands strung from the ceiling, doing your best to avoid thinking about the three women joining the family.

Everybody seemed to adore your step-sisters. They were perfect when they had to be, blonde angels with blue eyes and the sweetest disposition. Aubrey and Alora - twins that were identical in every sense of the word. Your father loved these girls, and he loved his new wife. It was like his previous one, and his first, biological daughter had simply been discarded and pushed to the periphery.

There were no more blood-speckled handkerchiefs strewn about the house, no more pills stashed above the sink, and no more quick trips to the hospital. Instead, there were Verona's lipsticks, and your step-sisters' toys. Pictures of them dominated the mantle place. Their achievements were the ones to be celebrated.

"Well done, Alora. We're so proud of you."

"Oh, Aubrey, you're so smart!"

Any incidents of your step-family's cruelty that you did manage to complain to your father about were either dismissed as the lies of a girl acting out as a result of her grief, or as some minor sibling rivalry that you would get over in time. In fact, your father seemed delighted when he interpreted it as the latter. Sibling rivalry meant that you were coming to see each other as sisters.

"You know, one day, when you grow up, I bet you're doing to be so glad to have Aubrey and Alora. I know that you girls don't always get along, but this is a good thing. They're your sisters." Your father had said, so gently, so softly that you wished for a moment you could believe it - that it was true and you could bring yourself to be thankful.

It flooded you with some kind of resentment - that he could be so passive, so enchanted by Verona and her perfect daughters, that you could become practically irrelevant. That of all of them, your concerns were the ones to be disregarded.

That resentment didn't fade when he died.

It had been an accident - a car-crash. It hadn't even been his fault. He had been on his way home to you, and some maniac had run him off the road. It could have happened to anybody. It should have happened to somebody else. It should have been something you saw on the news and thought about briefly. Instead, you were left an orphan.

His body was far too mangled for any kind of open-casket funeral. By the age of twelve, you had been to two funerals - one for each parent. What most children would do is to hope they were happy together, reunited in heaven. That's what you should have hoped for. Instead, you would pray, over and over again, every single fucking night, that they were burning. That they were being roasted in the flames of hell, and that they were screaming out for your forgiveness.

God hadn't listened when you had asked for your mother to get well and recover from her illnesses, nor when you asked for her to come back to you. Life had been so cruel, and so, you reasoned that its creator must be cruel, too. Perhaps God would listen if you wanted to inflict pain, instead.

The resentment didn't fade - rather, it intensified. After that, you really didn't need anybody to read Cinderella to you.

You had lived it.

---

The first person to rise was always you. It had been that way for years, the beginning of your well-established daily routine.

It was so cold, down in the basement. It wasn't given the same insulation as the rest of the house - and why would it have been? Your parents had mostly used it for storage, primarily for things like your bike, tools, and those family picture albums that you couldn't even bring yourself to open. At the time, there was nothing down there that had really deserved to be kept warm.

It was in rather poor condition. The bricks that comprised the walls were all cracked, and the black paint covering them was chipped and unevenly applied, the shelves looked liable to fall down any minute, and there were piles and piles of things everywhere. There is a saw lying on the ground, next to a few planks of wood that your father had never had an opportunity to use for anything and a stack of cannisters of gasoline that you eye affectionately.

There was always a breeze blowing through the basement, too. Your parents had discarded what they didn't need and stored it in the basement, and once they were both dead and buried, your step-mother had done the same to you.

Your old bedroom, where your mother used to read you bedtime stories and you would fret over her health, had been stripped bare and subsequently turned into Verona's walk-in wardrobe. You had been relegated to the basement, left to freeze whilst fur-coats and cocktail dresses got to enjoy central heating.

To keep warm, you would bundle yourself up in whatever shoddy blankets you could find. They would scratch at your skin and you would shiver against them, grinding your teeth together and hissing at the cold, silently cursing at Verona. It wasn't entirely uncommon for you to wake up and discover your lips had turned blue. It would worry you sometimes, that if it got too cold, you would simply die in the night and there would be nobody to notice.

It was early enough that you could hear the birds cooing sweetly outside, singing to one another as they flit through the branches in the trees outside. It was such a lovely thing to watch, and even lovelier to hear. It's such a pretty sound. You're not entirely sure that your step-family have ever woken early enough to hear it. If they hadn't before, then by now they had certainly missed their chance.

This was meant to be when you would start your chores. Your step-mother had left you to take on a maid role in the house, cooking and cleaning for them, waiting on them hand and foot, scrubbing the floors and surfaces until they shined. It filled you with rage.

Of the four of you, you were by far the best in every measurable way. Verona and her daughters were harpies, beasts with perfect faces that managed to fool just about everybody they came into contact with. Your father had been just one of many that was too naive to see it. They didn't bother with the pretenses around you - you had always seen them for what they were.

By now, you should be starting to sweep the bottom floor of the house, and making breakfast. But today would be different.

You creep up the stairs, your eyes constantly darting around the house, searching for any sign of the other inhabitants. They aren't awake, and you don't expect them to be, but it's always good to check, just in case.

Verona's left her purse on the countertop, next to a wine glass with a pink smudge on its rim and a pair of black elbow-length gloves she'd worn to a dinner the night before. The mere sight of it makes your lips curve up into a sneer. It's the ugliest shade of pink lipstick - vibrant and bold in all the wrong ways, but she somehow makes it look good. Of course she does - it's a talent of hers, really, to make the worst things seem not simply palatable, but also tempting.

You leave the wine glass, there will be no need to clean it today. With a sharp intake of breath, you open the purse, snatching all the money you can from it. Fortunately, Verona likes to keep most of her money in cash, so there's a decent amount. There's enough, at the very least.

The kitchen is obsessively cleaned - every surface shines from your efforts. It's clinical, sterile even, and the smell of cleaning products still permeates the air. There's a broom in the parlour, but you won't be using it.

Never before had you done anything like this. Today was a day that you had fantasised about for years, exploring and navigating different variations of it before constructing the master plan. These steps you were taking had been carefully considered, each and every action poured over obsessively, to the point of madness. All aspects of the plan were to be treated with reverence - they had practically become holy, and you recited them more often than you would prayers.

Already, you were breathing too quickly. There was adrenaline in your system, and your hands were slightly clammy. Nerves - but you weren't nervous. Not really. This was a burning, scalding anticipation that writhed around in your gut and clawed at your insides.

You allow yourself a brief moment to try and relax, letting your eyes flutter shut and letting your shoulders drop. There is a need to be tense - everything hinges on today, on whether or not you accomplish the plan.

When your eyes open, you immediately gravitate towards the knives. Before you select one, you go for Verona's black silk gloves, putting them on and admiring the way they look against your skin, and how smooth they are. They're the kind that's awfully expensive, but they look glamorous. She had worn them just the night prior, when she went to some fancy dinner.

They're hauntingly elegant, a mark of sophistication that contrasts so nicely with what you're about to do. They're a rather lovely way of ensuring that there's no fingerprints left in the house.

It's then that you pick a knife - a weighty silver meat cleaver with dark grey indentations on the handle. They make it look almost porous, and you know that the knife had been part of a set, a gift from one of Verona's friends who was into the culinary arts.

It's heavy, and you test the weight, passing it between your hands, looking at it reverently. The birds are still singing, chirping in harmony, nature's soundtrack to what is about to become a horrific crime. Whether the birdsong will harmonise with screams has yet to be determined. It has the potential to sound like a symphony - a completely lovely cacophony of everything you enjoy.

The meat cleaver shines in the soft sunlight - simply holding it makes you feel assured.

---

You create your own version of Cinderella. One where the house burns down.

The evil step-mother and bratty step-sisters are already dead when the match hits the gasoline that's long-since soaked into the floors. They had been hacked to pieces, their throats split open, almost to the point of decapitation. The blood would seep from the gaping wounds, spilling onto the bed sheets and staining their blonde hair red. They had looked so human in their sleep, so unsuspecting.

There wasn't even any time for them to awake and feel terror, or shock. That, at the very least, is a mercy. You had never really intended for it to be - it was more of a practicality than a fantasy. In the fantasies, the executions had lasted far, far longer.

As a child, experiencing the pains of loss, you had prayed for your parents to burn, so that they may feel as much pain as you. There was no way of knowing whether or not God would come to answer your prayers, so you decide instead to burn the people you can reach.

The meat cleaver is placed back into the kitchen - there's a chance that the wooden knife block may burn and char it and obscure the fact that it was the murder weapon. You keep Verona's gloves and you keep the cash.

There's something so beautiful, so incredibly vindicating about watching it all go up in smoke.

The house burns so beautifully. Flames dance in the windows, consuming the lacey white curtains, creeping their way up the ceiling until the roof catches fire and slowly caves in on itself, the slate-grey tiles becoming charred, crumbling and sliding over one another.

The birds stop singing. They squawk in agitation, fleeing from the nearby trees and taking to the skies. They, much like you, evacuate and watch the show from afar. They start their birdsong afresh once they're out of danger, singing proudly.

Plumes of smoke take to the air, contaminating and invading the morning sky. It's so dark, so thick that it's liable to block out the sun. The smoke's descending to the ground, too, sweeping over the grass like a terrible, ominous fog, rolling over the street and barrelling towards you in waves.

Your eyes and throat burn - you can feel the heat, even from a distance. You're breathing in wisps of the smoke - it's so strong that you feel simultaneously feel like you're choking, juxtaposed with this great, overwhelming sense of freedom. It smells so horrible you want to gag - it's not like the comforting smell from whenever your father would barbeque. It's stifling, oppressive, even.

And yet, despite your eyes watering and the feeling of nausea that the smell inspires within you, you doubt there has ever been a sweeter smell.

The flames flicker so brightly, swaying in tandem in a variety of oranges, reds, yellows and even a flash of white. They're so bright you can see it reflected on your skin.

The plan has been completed. You're entirely satisfied, and yet you're left directionless. Everything has amounted to this moment - to the burning of the monsters. This is your happy ever after, you think.

You stand there, bathed in an orange hue, simply watching, for as long as you're able.

Inevitably, you have to leave. You're rather tempted to dash back across the street and take Verona's car, if only to steal away another thing she loved. Her daughters, her life, her car. But you don't, as much as you would like to. It's another whim, another fleeting fantasy that has to be sacrificed for the sake of your freedom. Perhaps the car would burn, too. It's relatively close to the house.

Getting caught would simply transfer you from one life of imprisonment to another. The inner city of London seems as good a destination as any - it's not too far, and there nobody will know your name.

[youtuberswithalex]

PRVL, Vol. 3, Ch. 5: Never Miss A Beat

Summary: As the tournament picks up speed, our heroes get a chance to relax and connect with their loved ones.

Word Count: 3,567

Warnings: Family argument, a bit of implied self-hatred

(Sorry for the short chapter, but future chapters will make up for this! Promise!!)

Masterpost – Volume 1 – Previous

------

BEEEEEEP!

Roman leapt out of his seat, screaming at the top of his lungs. “Yes!!! Yes, Yang!! I knew she was gonna beat them, I knew it!!”

“Wow,” Riad said. “I did not think she would be able to put up a fight against Flynt’s trumpet. That thing packs a punch.”

“That’s Yang for you! Always the biggest, strongest blondie you could ever lay eyes on!” He flopped back down, letting out an energetic groan. As soon as he was settled, he hooked onto Riad’s arm and cuddled in. “I’m absolutely ecstatic that she’s going to the finals! I can’t think of a single person left that’s deserving of the championship!”

“Not even Penny Polendina?”

Roman looked to his other side, where Thomas was shooting him an amused look. “No way!” he exclaimed. “I don’t care if she’s got those psychic swords or whatever they are; Yang could beat her no problem!”

Joan leaned forward raised an eyebrow. “What about Pyrrha?”

“Not even a chance.”

Riad chuckled. “Didn’t you say Pyrrha beat her in a match in Glynda’s last semester?”

“Shhh…” Roman reached up and put a finger to his lips, silencing him. “We don’t have to talk about that. Yang cannot be bested.”

“Uh, excuse me, did you forget that your sister is still in the fight?” Trix huffed, leaning down from the row behind to press her cheek to Roman’s.

He paused for a moment as his face heated.

“…I can think of one person who could maybe best Yang.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Next to her, Abeba nudged her with their elbow. “Come on, let him root for who he wants. Besides, you haven’t even had your match yet; we don’t know if you’ll be in the finals or not.”

Trix raised an eyebrow. “Very bold of you to assume Eve and I wouldn’t be able to take down a couple of first-years.”

“Yeah, and did you see their match against NDGO? It was a complete luck of the draw that they managed to win!” Keahi added from Trix’s other side. “STER’s going to wipe the floor with them, no question.”

Abeba leaned forward to look at her, narrowing their eyes. “Aren’t you from the same school as Team SSSN?” they asked. “How come you haven’t given them any pointers on their strategies and stuff? Help them prepare, you know?”

Keahi scoffed. “Come on, you think I actually pay attention to other people in fighting classes? I don’t know jack about them.”

Trix and Abeba immediately deflated and slumped against each other.

“Well, it was worth a shot,” Trix sighed.

“I tried.”

As the next teams filed onstage, Roman dropped his cheek against Riad’s bicep and let out a breath. Riad stared at him for a beat before taking one of his hands with his free one. When Roman looked up, he offered a soft smile and pressed their foreheads together.

“Hey,” he whispered.

Roman smiled back, but despite the red dusting his cheeks, there was pain behind his eyes. “Hey.”

“You’ve been awfully clingy these last couple of days,” he pointed out. “Is there something going on?”

He hummed and buried his face back into his arm. His eyes flicked around, and his lips pressed together; one could almost see the gears turning in his head as he thought about the words he wanted to say next.

“Are you… worried, at all, about this?” Roman softly asked.

Riad raised an eyebrow. “About what?”

“Us,” he replied. “Like… Do you worry that things are going to end soon? Badly?”

The soft smile fell from Riad’s face; he frowned, shaking his head.

“No, not at all,” he said, leaning to try to catch Roman’s eyes. “I wouldn’t be dating you if I thought that. What’s this about, babe? Where’d this come from?”

Roman gave him the quickest of glances before looking back at the battlefield. There was a moment of quiet between them; Riad didn’t rush him, despite the nerves beginning to build up inside.

Finally, he let out a soft sigh. “Anole really doesn’t like us being together.”

Riad felt his heart drop into his stomach. He opened his mouth to reply, but Roman pushed on before he could get a word out.

“We were talking yesterday morning, and he… he really thinks we’re going to hurt each other,” he continued, “As if we’re doing this just to mess with him. And, Riad, I…” He shifted to look into his eyes. “I need you to know that that is not why I said yes when you asked me to be your boyfriend; I really, truly do adore you and Anole has absolutely nothing to do with it!”

“I know,” Riad answered, having to force his words through a thick wall of emotion. “I never worried about that for a moment. I do feel the same way about you; please don’t worry that that’s why I asked.”

“I wasn’t,” Roman replied, despite the way his shoulders fell.

Riad paused for a moment, pretending he was watching the start of the next fight as he sorted through his thoughts. “…Anole really said that?”

Roman nodded. “And he implied that we dove into this without thinking… That I was being reckless.”

“You are,” Riad said. “That isn’t necessarily a bad thing. It’s something I really like about you.”

Scoffing, Roman rolled his eyes. “Tell him that.”

“I don’t need to. You’re the only one who needs to worry about how I feel about you,” he firmly replied. “And that’s something Anole needs to learn. Not you.”

Roman slowly nodded in understanding and leaned back in his seat. “I just wish he would leave us alone,” he quietly admitted.

Riad wrapped an arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders and pressed a kiss to his temple.

“I’ll talk to him.”

 -------

Logan didn’t know how long he sat at the ocean docks after his parents left.

It was certainly more than a few minutes, if the ebbing stinging of his eyes was anything to go by. He could very faintly hear the announcers and buzzers from Amity Colosseum far, far in the air above; at least a couple of matches had come and gone, but he wasn’t paying much attention. Not when he could watch their boat disappear over the horizon.

While he felt no obligation to see them off after they set sail, he found that he wasn’t quite ready to head back to the dorm, or the arena, or… anywhere, really. At least not anywhere that he would have to interact with people. A weariness settled in his chest just at the thought.

He knew his parents needed to go. Vacuo and its citizens needed the two of them more than he did, and the ever-persistent Grimm weren’t going to let up during a worldwide tournament that just so happened to include their son. The fact that they were even gone for a couple of days was worrying; who knows what might have happened to the people they were protecting while they were away?

Logan knew this, and yet… he couldn’t stop himself from being sad to see them go.

So here he sat, in the midst of the stench of fish and tourists bustling around, watching a boat sail away as if it could grant him a few more minutes with his family before the long wait until they could see each other again.

Someone sat next to him on the bench, and he nearly leapt out of his skin; a coffee cup was offered as if nothing happened. Logan blinked and looked up to see Thamir softly smiling at him.

“Thamir,” he dumbly stated. “What are you doing here?”

“I saw you when I came by earlier on my way to my family’s house. Didn’t think you’d still be here on my way back,” he laughed. He pushed the cup towards Logan again as he took a sip of his own. “Figured I’d get you some coffee, since it didn’t seem like you’d be leaving any time soon.”

Logan glanced at it, and then back to him. “I… thought I was the one who owed you coffee after Team AMBR’s match?”

He shrugged. “Consider it a freebie,” he said.

Logan felt the corners of his lips tug up, and he finally accepted with a word of thanks before taking a sip. It was pleasantly warm, but not scorching hot, and just barely sweet and creamy— exactly how he liked it.

“So… Did your parents head out?” Thamir asked.

Eyes flicking to the boat, Logan nodded. “They weren’t able to stay away for long. Really, they probably shouldn’t have come in the first place,” he admitted, “But… I do have to say, I am… very glad they were here, even if they did have to see our loss. Perhaps even more so for the same reason.”

“They seem cool. It was really nice to meet them,” he said. “It must be intense, having a full family of Huntsmen.”

He sighed and looked down at his cup, where his fingers idly played with the rim of the lid. “It is rather extraordinary; I’ll give it that. I’m sure Roman and Calanthe could attest to my saying that it can get a bit overwhelming at times. There’s always training and jobs to be done, and hardly any time to rest.”

Thamir nodded. “I can imagine.”

“And that’s not even mentioning the impacts of being separated for long stretches of time,” he continued. “I was fortunate in that my parents could afford to stay home and take on few jobs while raising me; my mother originally insisted upon it, and Father wanted to keep that after she was gone. It was one of the most important things to him when he and Esther began to see each other. Very few children of Huntsmen are able to have that, unless they find a stable job in one place, such as the Reptilias.”

“Calanthe’s told me about that,” Thamir informed. “Her older sister had to take care of her when their parents were on missions, and then she was on her own after she left for Haven. She said it got pretty lonely.”

“Well… I suppose it’s just another part of the job,” he quietly replied. “Another sacrifice we make for the safety of humanity and faunus.”

Thamir fell into silence for a moment, staring over the ocean. He took a deep, weary breath.

“It’s not just a sacrifice for Huntsmen.” He turned to Logan. “It’s a sacrifice for the kids, too. I know time with your family isn’t the same as a life, but… It’s alright if you grieve it. You’re allowed to, even if you know it’s worth it.”

Just like that, the stinging in Logan’s eyes was back. He pressed his lips together and tightened his grip on his coffee, trying to keep his breathing steady. A lump formed in his throat, and it was harder to swallow it away than it should have been.

The echoing of a buzzer and a roaring crowd bounced around the buildings behind them, giving him just enough of a distraction to ground himself. He took a calming breath as music began to play.

Thamir bumped his shoulder against his. “You know… I remember you making a pretty hefty sacrifice a few weeks ago,” he said.

Logan frowned and raised an eyebrow at him. “You do?”

“Well, it wasn’t as big as leaving your family behind or anything, but it was still something you gave up to be ready for anything.”

“What was it?”

He pointed his thumb at the streets behind them. “The Vytal Festival Ball,” he stated, giving Logan a half-smile.

Logan scoffed and rolled his eyes. “That was not a hard decision to make,” he huffed. “Our missions were far more important.”

“Would you have gone if it was a different night?”

He blinked and looked at Thamir, who simply watched him with a soft curiosity on his face. Logan took a moment to consider the question before opening his mouth.

“I… do not know,” he admitted. “The chances would have increased, of course, seeing as the date was the main reason I chose not to attend, but, well… I still would not have had any preparations as to what to expect. I still don’t know how loud or crowded it would have been, nor how overwhelmed I would become.” Huffing out a weak laugh, he added, “I don’t even know how to dance, to be completely honest with you. For all I know, it would have been a disaster.”

Thamir hummed. “So… What you’re saying is, in two years, when we have the next Vytal Festival…?”

“I would not be able to tell you if I would go or not,” Logan finished.

Thamir nodded, and then he set his coffee to the side, getting to his feet. He turned and held a hand out to Logan.

“Well,” he said, “I can help you with one of those worries, at least.”

He furrowed his brow. “What do you mean?”

“Let’s dance.”

If he’d had any coffee in his mouth, Logan was sure he would have choked. “W-What?”

“Yeah!” he laughed. “C’mon, I’ll teach you how. We can start small.”

Logan stared at him, frozen in place; after a moment, he let out a breath and took his hand.

“Well… Alright.”

He set his drink aside as Thamir pulled him up, taking both of his hands and holding them an arm’s length away. They started to sway to the music echoing through the area.

Though I can’t find what to say, I know that you’ll hear me If you’re in this game I play, I can tell you when I need you more…

Logan couldn’t help but chuckle as Thamir started getting more and more invested in the song; his shoulders moved, and his head bobbed back and forth. Thamir caught him watching and laughed, yanking Logan’s arms forward and back to the beat.

“The more you get into it, the more fun it is!” he exclaimed. “Try it!”

He rolled his eyes, but the smile didn’t leave his face as he attempted to copy Thamir’s movements. When he beamed, he couldn’t help but notice his face warming.

“I feel ridiculous,” he said.

“A step in the right direction, then,” he replied.

Thamir took a step and began to lead them into an achingly slow rotation around each other. Logan stumbled a bit at the first step, but was quick to follow. When they made it around a full circle, Thamir pulled one hand away and lifted their connected hands, taking Logan through a careful twirl.

Taking both of his hands again, he smiled. “You’re getting the hang of this pretty quick.”

Logan grinned.

 --------

Virgil threw his fist in the air and let out a cheer, nearly throwing his scroll out of his hands. “I think that’s the best score I’ve ever gotten!”

“There’s platinum?! I thought gold was the highest one!” Patton yelped.

“Nah, not even close. There’s a diamond tier, but you can only get it when you play a level on Multi-Extreme mode,” Virgil replied. He turned to Patton and reached across the space between their beds, holding his scroll out. “You sure you don’t want to give it a try? It’s pretty easy to get the hang of, even if you don’t know the music.”

Patton shook his head and waved him off. “It’s okay, really. I’m having more fun watching you!”

Virgil shrugged before looking back to his desk, where a rented gaming console projected his score. “Alright. Just don’t think you’re going to make it through break without playing a round with us. Ever since I showed him the game, Dad won’t let a person into our house without making them compete."

“Your dad plays Rhythm Hell?” Patton asked with a laugh.

He scoffed, rolling his eyes as he looked through the game’s available songs. “Dude, you have no idea. He dedicates a solid two hours every Saturday to touch up his skills.” A grin formed on his lips. “Any time we have a family event, he brings it along, and there’s a whole competition— he and Papi’s mom are, like, mortal enemies because of it. It gets intense.”

Patton grimaced. “Oh… Is she… Not a great person?”

“Huh?” Virgil frowned and looked at him, brow furrowed; when he realized what he was asking, he sucked in a sharp breath and waved a hand at him. “Oh, no, no! Not like that! Abuela’s really cool, she’s really chill usually! She just gets competitive like Dad does when it comes to video games. But it never gets aggressive, don’t worry.”

A sigh of relief tumbled out of him. “Good. Okay.”

Virgil offered a soft smile before turning back to the game. “Yeah, you won’t have to worry about anything like that when we’re on break,” he said. “We do have plans to head to Argus for a reunion, but no one is gonna be anything bad. Everyone’ll be excited to meet you.”

Finally settling on a level, the two settled into a relaxed silence. Heavy guitar and drums played through the speakers, just loud enough to hear, but quiet enough to not disturb the others in their hall. Patton watched as Virgil’s face dissolved into concentration; when the artist began to sing, he shifted and lay on his stomach, resting his chin on his arms.

“I am weak; can’t save myself, from my own flaws…”

“Can’t you see, I can hurt you…?”

An grin started to form on his face as he listened to Virgil’s soft singing. He buried his face in his arms to hide his huff of laughter.

Apparently, it wasn’t quiet enough.

“Are you making fun of me?” Virgil asked, no bite to the accusation.

Patton giggled. “No! It’s cute!”

A scoff rang out. “I’m not cute! I’m edgy.”

He bit his tongue to keep his argument back, not wanting to ruin whatever score he had at the moment.

There were a few more seconds of silence before Virgil’s humming resumed. Patton beamed and pulled his face up, turning to look at the screen, but sunlight glinted off of a picture frame behind it and dragged his attention away.

The photo showed a much younger version of Virgil nestled in the middle of their four-person family at a professional photo shoot. He was dressed in an outfit that Patton couldn’t dream of Virgil ever agreeing to today; a gray button-up, black dress pants, and a soft, purple sweater vest. His hair was short and spiked up, and his grin wide and front-toothless, but there was no mistaking it was him.

His younger sister sat next to him in a lavender blouse with puffy sleeves and light blue tights. Her hair looked like it might have been styled into a nice set of low pigtails at some point, before being ruffled and tumbled around. She and Virgil held each other’s hands tight.

On either side of them were their dads, looking exhausted but proud. Their matching white dress shirts were a bit wrinkled. They each lay a hand on one of their children’s shoulders, and a close look to their Papi’s arm revealed he was seemingly holding Crina in place.

Despite the frame of the photo looking relatively modern and clean, the actual photograph was worn and faded at the edges. A couple of creases circled what had once been their family. It was the only crooked one of three hanging on the wall, between one of Virgil and Chao at a graduation and another of their team in the cafeteria, taken early in their first semester.

Patton’s eyes drifted over to his own bare walls above his desk, looming over the clutter and mess below. His scroll sat on the corner of a stack of textbooks; it blinked with a silent unread message notification. He made no move to get up and check it.

On the shelf above, a picture frame lay face-down.

“Let it latch to the hope that I’m controlled…”

He glanced at the scorched handprint stained to the door frame. Guilt and shame built up in his stomach before he could tear his eyes away. He gripped his forearms tight until a dull ache began to make its way through the muscle.

“I’VE GOT A MONSTER IN ME; IT’S TEARING THROUGH MY HEART!”

Patton just about jumped out of his skin as Virgil began to scream-sing along to the music, leaping up onto all fours and staring at him with wide eyes. Virgil either didn’t notice or didn’t care, as he only continued and started to dance along.

“It won’t stop ‘til it breaks free, so make it stop before it starts!”

Forcing himself to release his breath, Patton lowered himself back into a sitting position and watched. Virgil’s score began to go down as the beats flew by unnoticed. His eyes squeezed shut, and a grim formed on his face around the lyrics. He lifted his hands into fists and bounced them to the rhythm of the drums that were practically shaking the speakers of the gaming console.

Patton huffed out a little laugh before glancing back at his scroll.

The light wouldn’t stop blinking.

I fear the monster in my soul, I fear the monster in my soul, I fear the monster in my soul, I fear the monster…

[real-jaune-isms]

RWBY Volume 8 Chapter 9 Review/Remix

I cannot in good conscience joke that Rooster Teeth intended to go on a week’s hiatus after this cliffhanger, but I will say this was a hell of an episode for it to happen after. And while we wait to see what happens next, let’s take a little look at what’s happened here and now.

For the sake of not dividing up the action, let’s first cover what’s happening on the battlefield outside of Monstra. We open on a sweeping shot of the carnage thus far and see a good few nameless Atlesian soldier corpses to get our spirits plummeting. But Grimm don’t (with one terrifying exception) leave corpses so we don’t know how many of them have been taken out up to this point. It could be a very significant number, more than the body count on the human side! But Monstra keeps making more and we don’t have a way to replenish our forces so... it’s an endurance game more than anything else.

In a tactic I really didn’t see coming, the Atlas forces have dug trenches to fight out of like World War 1 soldiers. It makes sense, there are Grimm that we have seen have ranged projectiles so cover is a good move and it gives them a place to go over strategies before climbing out and going on the offensive. Just didn’t expect nearly century old battle strategy from an army with robots and mechs. Whatever works, I guess. We get a look in one of these trenches to see Winter briefing a squad on the plan to keep this area secure since it’s where an airship will be dropping off the bomb, and once it arrives their mission becomes escorting it inside Monstra. Amazingly, we can recognize 4 people in this squad as the members of Team FNKI! And WOW do they look out of place wearing the standard Atlesian soldier armor rather than their colorful and creative street clothes... Even their spunky personalities are taking a hit in this desperate situation. The next wave is approaching so everyone climbs out to start fighting back, and Marrow is shown a short ways away visibly upset over how many of their forces are just kids. Elm tells him to save the musings for after the fighting is done, and that does kick him into gear a bit. Everyone does a good job of handling the Grimm, Flynt and Neon tag teaming to take out a Goliath, and pretty soon the airship does touch down with the bomb. Left to his own thoughts, Marrow stares wistfully at Monstra and wishes good luck to “Juan”. Glad some things still haven’t changed.

Winter goes into the hold to sign off on its delivery, and Marrow follows her in to beg for a little more time for Yang and the others to get out first. She tells him they’ve allowed all the time they can and now it’s up to the teens to handle themselves. He calls her on this ambivalence, asks her if she’d be so dismissive if it were Weiss inside the whale. And for that matter, how is she going to be able to face Weiss and tell her 4 of her friends are dead because of Winter’s decision? Winter is visibly discomforted by that thought, but steels her nerve and replies that she will do so if she has to because that’s part of the job, so he should worry about doing his job. But you can tell she takes no pride in the job at this point. 

With all of that battlefield drama out of the way, let’s talk about that group’s journey inside the whale. Through unseen means they managed to get inside, but the hallways all look the same and they aren’t finding a map any time soon. Yang points out this is like finding a needle in a... giant whale. More wonderful wit, brightens the mood immensely. Ren takes this opportunity to tell them about his new Semblance ability and says that he can use it as a sort of radar for other humans by sensing where the spikes of their emotions are. He can’t tell which one is Oscar, but he knows they’re all deeper inside Monstra so he’ll lead the way. Jaune reminds Ren that he can give him a boost with his own Semblance if he needs it, and Ren sheepishly agrees. Guess he’s still getting used to letting others in and being open about when he needs support. That was part of their whole three way argument on the tundra earlier this Volume after all. So this is them putting aside their differences and settling that. Jaune gives him some awkward finger guns and they head off.

We cut to Oscar lying on the floor of his holding room quoting a fairy tale to himself. Oz recognizes the quote as being from “The Girl Who Fell Through the World”, and Oscar isn’t shocked Oz knows it so well. He admits that yes, he did live through his fair share of events that became fairy tales. This particular story isn’t in the officially released book of Remnant’s fairy tales so we have to make some guess work about its plot and overall lesson. It seems to be a sort of mix of Wizard of Oz and the Hobbit where a girl craves to see the wider world and gets that chance through an adventure but when she returns she finds she can never quite fit in again because the journey has changed who she is forever. Oscar admits he’s growing to identify with the heroine of that story more and more by the day because he too has been sent through Remnant and come out the other side unable to feel the same innocent joy he did before he knew what the world really is. Oz thinks they may have to drop their plan of creating traitors in Salem’s ranks because it’s bearing no fruit, and suggests they start thinking about how to get his cane and get out of here themselves. Oscar has reservations about that, because apparently the more he uses Oz’s magic the quicker his soul is heading towards being lost as another past life for the single continuing existence that is Oz to look back on. Oz doesn’t blame him for wanting to delay that, and thinks just being Oscar is serving him pretty well. They don’t have time for further musings because Hazel comes in and drags the poor kid out of the room by the collar of his shirt.

Turns out they’re taking a trip over to the Home Depot, because Hazel is looking to procure a Lamp. He only half believes Oscar’s explanation of how Jinn works, so he wants to test it before taking the news to Salem and risking losing his head for reporting a lie. And if it does work, I guess he wants to know what that will entail. So he’s gonna make Oscar do it here and now. Before they can get underway with that, in comes Emerald to ask just what the hell they’re doing. Let’s find out, Hazel simply replies. That’s all the go ahead Oscar needs, and he calls for Jinn. Again, time stops around them and Jinn emerges from the blue smoke. She’s gotten a bit of an update to her model since Volume 6, and she’s as captivating as ever. Naturally, she wants to know what question they have of her, but no one seems to have one they urgently need answered. Hazel got all the answers he needed just by knowing Oscar was being honest about this and thus probably about a lot of other important matters. He decides now is the time to switch sides once and for all, he’s going to help Oscar AND Emerald get the hell out of here because neither of them deserve to be under Salem’s thumb. Oscar plays a little of the pronoun game and implies he wants his cane back before they leave, and Hazel seems to have no problem with that. Jinn remains playful, but must be getting pretty damn fed up with people summoning her without having a question to ask. Oscar deems it necessary to tell her that they’ll be taking her with them when they leave, as if that’s an alternative she was going to give much of a damn about. Hazel doesn’t think that’s a good idea, it’s the most prized item in Salem’s possession and she’s clearly going to know if it’s taken. He decides he’ll make a return trip to swipe it after the kids are out of the danger zone. They all head out as Jinn starts to fade into her cloud of smoke, but it seems they were not the only ones in the room at this time. With perfect chameleon-like camouflage, Neo was hiding in the shadows near the doorway, and emerges from nowhere like the Cheshire Cat. Now she’s alone with the Lamp and the knowledge of how it works. If only she could actually talk...

Back to our intrepid trio of heroes, Jaune is running on fumes with his Aura so he has to stop amping Ren’s Semblance. Ren apologizes of course, it does take a lot for him to both mask their emotional presences and search for other people at once, but Jaune says it’s fine. He’ll scout ahead while Ren takes a breather and doesn’t mask for a little while. With directions for where they need to be heading, Jaune jogs away full of optimism. Yang jokes about the two men patching things up after their spat the evening prior, but he decides its time for some patented Lie Ren wisdom. “It’s okay to be afraid, you don’t always have to hide it with a joke”. He’s not gonna judge her if she’s not in happy go lucky fun time mode, this is a seriously terrifying situation and she’s allowed to show fear and hesitation. At least, that’s the message I extrapolated from this and what we already know about Yang. Ren assures her he is scared too, but amazingly he can’t sense any such doubt or fear from Jaune. That man has full confidence and hope in getting this done, and if he believes then so will they. I really like that, it shows how much Jaune has grown from the noodle boy we first met. Speaking of the lad, he comes running back and tells Ren to mask them ASAP. A Seer is coming down the hall, and they hide from its view for as long as possible. But Ren is running low on Aura too and the effect wears off just before they’re in the clear.

Meanwhile, Hazel and Emerald are walking down a separate hallway and the former asks “You sure he’ll be okay on his own?” Clearly this means they let Oscar out of their sight so he can go get his cane, which shows a lot of confidence in the lad from these former captors. Emerald doesn’t have a clear answer yet, but she does stop Hazel and have him stand against the wall next to her. Salem is coming this way, and they need to let her pass. She stops, and naturally asks Hazel for an update on Ozcar. If he’s out here that must mean he has something to report. So, has he given up what they need yet? Hazel seems to immediately be cracking under pressure, the guy has no experience with lying or deception. Before he can stammer in place for too long, the Seers start wailing in the distance and that gets Salem’s attention instead. She realizes they have unexpected visitors, then almost immediately panics as she seems to realize the Lamp has been taken and these interlopers are surely to blame. Salem speeds off with all the grace of a kid riding a hoverboard, and it’s really quite amusing. I mean, we see her move her legs to walk but she just floats instead of running. We go back to the heroes finishing off the wave of what seemed to be Sabyrs that had come after them, and they decide to keep moving forward no matter the danger. Clever use of that phrase so near and dear to our hearts, and its good to see them gung ho about fighting their way through Monstra if it means finding Oscar.

They round a few more corners and find themselves face to face with Emerald and Hazel, and they’re none too happy about that. But good news comes suddenly, and Hazel steps forward to try and talk the situation down... only to be revealed to have actually been Oscar under the disguise of Emerald’s Semblance this whole time. She really is getting good at those illusions, it fooled Salem and was able to be cast on Jaune Ren and Yang at once. They are immediately much more happy to see Oscar alive and well, although the bear hug Jaune pulls him into might not help him heal any faster from the beatings he’s been getting. They still don’t know what to make of the fact that he was walking around with Emerald, and as soon as she makes a snippy remark they’re back on their guard. Oscar doesn’t quite know how to summarize everything that lead to this, but Yang insists someone give it a try. Emerald WAS the one who tricked her into “breaking” Mercury’s leg and becoming a public menace in Volume 3, she’s gonna need some good reasons to trust her now. Surprisingly, it’s Ren who has such an answer. Emerald is scared just like them, which would seem to show she is very much unhappy with being on this side of the fight and she wants to get out of this bad scenario. Em isn’t about to agree with that sort of admission of weakness, but she does have her own reason. She knows the way out, so if they want to leave they’ll all be leaving together. That’s enough to satisfy them for now, and they all get going.

They make it 90% of the way there, the ramping path down and out is just ahead of them... when Monstra starts pulsing and wailing. Emerald recognizes this influence, and she is frightened. The wall nearest to Oscar explodes, and Salem has arrived. She instantly takes stock of the situation, and deems Emerald the traitor in need of punishment for letting their prisoner out so she stretches her arms like my favorite rubber pirate and holds the poor thief closely with the intent to start that punishment immediately. She commends the girl for the improvements to her Semblance, but beneath the surface she is furious. Yang and Ren start shooting, and the fight with Salem has finally begun. She dodges the gunfire and responds with a beam of magic that Jaune jumps in the way to tank for Ren with his shield. They’re sent aback while Yang leaps in to unload a rapid volley of punches to Salem’s chest. A more baller move than punching this immortal witch in the titties, I never have seen. But that wasn’t all she did, she was actually leaving a bunch of sticky bombs that she jumps away and detonates all at once. Salem’s torso is blasted out of shape and she’s bending so far back you’d assume she’s the world’s greatest contortionist, but that doesn’t slow her down. She stretches out an arm to grab Yang tightly by the wrist and starts pulling her in as her chest starts to repair and reform at a rapid pace. Now it’s Oscar’s turn to attempt a rescue of his female companions, and he blasts some magic at Salem. Guess that fear of merging faster was kicked to the curb as soon as other people’s lives were on the line, and that’s pretty noble of him. But it’s a fairly weak blast, and Salem employs the classic strategy of hitting that motherfucker with another motherfucker by tossing Yang at him. Then she grows a bunch of Grimm arms from the floor to hold everybody down and leave them at her mercy. Emerald gets the special privilege of being held against a wall by some arms rather than on the ground, and is questioned on what she did with the Lamp. It’s missing, and Salem is dead certain Emerald is to blame despite her pleading insistence she hasn���t taken it and doesn’t know where it is now. Great job Neo, you made life that much harder for your former allies... Since Emerald isn’t offering any answers, Salem turns her attention to Oscar. At first it seems aloof and mysterious like before, but then she just lunges and grabs his face in anger. She’s mad that he keeps coming back to try and help this weak and selfish race instead of just letting her wreck it and end herself with the whole lot, as if he hasn’t already explained that he’s being forced to reincarnate by the gods she hates so much. But Yang is the one who snaps back, asking why Salem is so persistent. Sure, she had a tragic backstory and lost the love of her life. But that was thousands of years ago, she’s had plenty of time to get over it and move on. To grieve and accept Ozma was gone and be better. Instead she got pissed she couldn’t have her fairy tale ending and decided to make that everyone else’s problem. Salem has been the cause of almost every problem that has plagued Remnant since before the Great War, and Yang is calling her on it here and now. Go off, queen. Salem wonders just who Yang has lost to make her so indignant and so much more worthy of complaining and being the victim here than herself. Let’s list these losses, shall we?

Raven left home out of fear of Salem and her own hang ups with personal connections stemming from her upbringing (bandit lifestyle being so popular because there’s always towns to scavenge with Salem leading the Grimm)

Summer Rose is dead directly because of clashing with Salem

Pyrrha Nikos

Penny (she is back but there was still a lot of grieving on Ruby’s part and it had to affect Yang too)

About a dozen other Beacon students and visiting academy fighters at the Fall of Beacon, some of whom she probably got to know decently outside the ring and certainly respected as fighters in this defense effort

An arm because Adam was working under Salem and came to Beacon with vengeful intentions for Blake

About a year of PTSD nightmares flashbacks and involuntary fearful shaking

Her bond with Blake was fractured to hell and back because of the above incident, they’re damn lucky it was strong enough to be reforged with hard work and trust later

Now, some of those examples are a lot stronger than others, but they all affected her to some degree or another and all relate back to Salem. Naturally, she chooses the strongest example and says she lost her mom Summer Rose. This can be seen as throwing Raven under the bus as not being her mom in Yang’s eyes, but honestly after Volume 5 it just makes sense and it’s not like Raven would try to argue about it. Curiously, hearing Summer’s name just gives Salem a Cheshire Cat grin. I’m now realizing this is my second reference to that character in this review, but Alice in Wonderland is just that relatable here. Clearly she knows more than she’s letting on about Summer’s demise. Before we can get any more answers, Hazel arrives on the scene still playing the loyal subordinate role. Salem tells him she’s caught the traitor on their midst and he needs to take Oscar back to his room while she handles disciplining Emerald. He takes stock of all the kids trapped as he heads over to grab Oscar as asked, then pulls him in close to whisper “No more Gretchens, boy” in his ear. He suddenly drops him to ground again and turns to approach Salem. Oscar notices he was given his cane back when he wasn’t looking, and realizes what’s going to happen pretty quickly.

Salem holds a glowing ball of magic up to Emerald’s cheek with the implication that direct contac will be painful and possibly burning. Even under this threat of torture, Emerald has no answers and the fear of the seemingly inevitable brings her to tears. Lucky for her she gets a last minute save as Hazel runs up and sucker punches Salem, sending her flying a hundred feet through the air! She immediately recovers and starts flying before she can hit the ground, but the line in the sand has been drawn. As soon as she got sent flying the arms went away and all the kids were free to run away, which Hazel loudly yells for them to do as he rips his vest off and starts stabbing his shoulders and forearms with Dust crystals. Emerald lingers and wordlessly tries to talk him out of this, to run away with the rest of them. He just gives her a smile and turns towards his enemy. Salem asks if he really wants to turn his back on the path to vengeance she had promised him, and he responds that he’s instead choosing the righteous path his sister would have taken. Following her example is now the best way he can think to do right by her. So he’s gonna do that by using fire Dust to set his knuckle guards ablaze. She sends magic his way but the lightning Dust helps him quickly dodge and then he punches fireballs at her. He uses Revali’s Gale... I mean uses some air Dust to create an updraft and launch himself above her. He smashes some earth and fire Dust together to make a ball of spiky molten rock that he throws onto Salem and sends her crashing to the ground with an explosive impact. Then he just starts whaling on her, sending blood flying in 3 different directions and demolishing her upper body. But she makes more arms to hold him up in the air while she regrows her face. Emerald is still watching, not having moved an inch yet, but finally she decides retreat will be for the best. It’s why he’s doing this at all. Jaune seems to be doing a headcount as everyone runs past him, and realizes Oscar hasn’t left. He hasn’t made any moves to leave, in fact he seems like he’s getting ready to fight too. She’ll just keep coming after them at this rate, and Oscar seems to have a plan to change that. Salem shoots another magic beam at the now pinned Hazel, but he’s strong enough to pull against the arms and guard his exposed torso and put up a visible bubble shield of Aura. So she just tosses him away and immediately goes to where he landed and starts bashing his head into the ground. Oscar steadies his stance and readies his staff for whatever move this is gonna be. Salem notices and is ready to take him down before it can be ready, but Hazel continues to be a boss and gets her in a Full Nelson hold to keep her from going anywhere. She grabs his legs with a bunch of summoned arms, but it doesn’t discourage him. In a final act of vengeance, he bites down on a crystal of fire Dust he had popped into his mouth before grabbing her and they are both set on fire. She can’t escape his grip, and the fire seems like it’s hurting pretty bad. It’s only natural that they would reference the Salem Witch Trials by burning a witch named Salem, and I appreciate the idea very much. Oscar finishes charging up his staff for his attack, and Hazel gives him the go ahead. He knows this will kill him too, and he accepts that. It’s absolutely the same situation as Piccolo killing Goku and Raditz with the Makankösappö in the first arc of Dragon Ball Z, and that too is something I love to see. So Oscar puts up a magic shield and unleashes a blinding wave of golden light from the staff.

Fade to black.

Roll Credits.

[haloshornsinkstains]

Five Times Kore Went Drinking With the Devildom

Kore is my MC/semi self-insert for Obey Me. Enjoy some drunken chaos with her and a few faces from the Devildom.

Content warning: Alcohol, Mammon-style scams, pranks, Mammon slander, witches

1. Diavolo

"Lucifer, apologies for the interruption, but you may wish to come collect your human." Lucifer frowned at the handset, the beginnings of a headache already beginning to prod at the space behind his eyes. "Barbatos. She went to the castle to finish the festival preparations with Lord Diavolo less than an hour ago. What could she possibly have managed to do already?" On the other end of the line Barbatos chuckled, poorly hiding it behind a cough. "I'm afraid in this case it is my Lord's doing. Miss Kore had all the preparations finished shortly after her arrival, however the Young Master recently acquired some rare drink from a visiting emissary and wished to share it with his favourite human…" Lucifer bristled on the other end of the line, growling slightly into the static left by Barbatos' sudden pause. "Barbatos, what is happening?" A few more beats of silence and the muffled sound of a handset being picked up. "Apologies. The Young Master requested some water for Miss Kore. She is quite alright, no need to fret Lucifer. However the drink had a rather more pronounced effect on human biology than we anticipated. I thought you might want to collect her while she's still awake, I can always put her up in one of the spare rooms if you prefer…" Lucifer sighed. "I'll collect her. The headache I'll be subjected to if she disappears for a night with no warning isn't worth it." "Very well. I'll see you shortly."

By the time Lucifer arrived at the castle the dull ache in his head had become a slow throbbing. One that only spiked in intensity as Barbatos led him through to the room where Diavolo and Kore were supposed to be discussing the festival. Instead he found Kore curled up sleepily in the Prince's lap, one hand absentmindedly stroking through his hair as she murmured nonsense at him. Half a bottle of some strange liquid and two empty goblets abandoned on the table before them. Diavolo at least seemed to be enjoying himself, if her occasional mumblings of "your smile is so pretty" were anything to go by. Barbatos sighed, sounding far too much like a Demon who had seen such nonsense one too many times, and cleared his throat. "My Lord. Lucifer has come to collect his charge." Diavolo looked up, the sparkle in his eyes dimming ever so slightly as the words sunk in. In his lap Kore shifted, retrieving her hand from his hair and guzzling into his broad chest. "Oh. Barbatos, I thought she might be able to stay? It's rare I get to entertain guests casually." Good grief, he looks like a kicked puppy. Lucifer thought, shaking his head. "Try explaining that to my brothers." He grumbled under his breath, earning a raised eyebrow from the butler. "I am sure we can arrange that another day Young Master. But I believe Miss Kore has plans with the brothers and it would be rude to interrupt." Diavolo nodded, though he was still pouting ever so slightly. Gently he squeezed her shoulder, bumping her awake with a shift of his knee. "Kore, Lucifer is here to bring you home." He murmured. Kore blinked slowly, eyes widening almost comically when she spotted Lucifer standing in the doorway. "Oh no." Diavolo let out a booming laugh, shaking his head at her. "As much as I would like to keep you here all night, I believe you have plans?" She frowned a little, thinking for a few moments before nodding happily, eyes sparkling. "Movie night! You should come too Dia." "I'm afraid my Lord has duties to attend to. Perhaps some other time Miss Kore?" Barbatos cut in before Diavolo could answer. "Oh, okay. Next time I visit I'll bring a film and we can have a movie night." She smiled, slowly extracting herself from his lap. Lucifer darted forwards to catch her as she tripped on her own feet a few steps away from the desk, holding her up against his chest with a sigh. "Perhaps next time you can forgo the mystery liquids Lord Diavolo?" He hummed. “The human is quite enough trouble sober.” With those final words he turned on his heel and headed out of the castle.

As they headed out of the doors and back towards the House of Lamentation, Kore peered up at Lucifer. “Lucifer?” She asked quietly, brows pulled together slightly as she spoke. “How much trouble am I in?” The eldest sighed and shook his head. “While I cannot say I’m exactly pleased by your utter lack of decorum, I am aware it wasn’t your idea to get drunk. So, I won’t punish you too harshly.” Kore pouted a little, staring up at him with as innocent an expression as she could manage. “Still sounds like I’m in trouble.” “You are. In case you have forgotten you were sat in the Prince of Devildom’s lap petting his hair. If you thought such behaviour would go unpunished then you’ve learned nothing since coming here.” She sighed. “His hair is really soft, you should try it too Lucy, it’s soothing.” “Quit while you’re ahead Kore. I would hate to ban you from movie night after all the trouble I went to to collect you.”

2. Mammon

“Oi oi! Kore!” The human turned from where she was sitting at her desk, arching an eyebrow at the white-haired demon in her doorway. “What’s up Mammon?” She hummed, tilting her head. “Oh! Did you get another contract for Devil Style?” He flushed and rubbed the back of his neck, eyes darting to the pile of magazines safely stacked in one corner. A collection of every issue of a magazine he’d modelled for, one she’d been so embarrassed about in the beginning. “N-no. Not that. I just had a great idea!” Kore turned properly, a grin pulling at her lips. “Go on…” “Hah! I knew ya wouldn’t laugh at me like those jerks.” He grinned, crossing the room and flopping down on her bed like he owned the place. “Let me hear what your plan is first.”

And so, Kore found herself in the midst of a very exclusive party at The Fall, having snuck out of the House of Lamentation with Mammon and the two tickets he had somehow acquired (from one of his modelling contacts apparently). Their mission, to have fun and get drunk without spending a single Grimm. Which was why she was currently attempting to flirt with a demon who wasn’t one of the boys at the bar, while Mammon lurked nearby trying his best not to interrupt in a fit of jealousy. Eventually the demon caved, ordering them both drinks, and when he moved down the bar slightly to pay with his card Mammon swooped in, grabbing one of the drinks while she swiped the other and dragging her off to get lost in the sea of bodies. “Quick, before we get caught!” She laughed, bringing the glass to her lips and taking a deep drink. “This is delicious!” Mammon chuckled, taking a sip of his own drink. “Eurgh, what the hell is this?” Kore huffed, swiftly downing her own glass and snatching his from his hands. “If you don’t want it-” “Hey, hey, you can’t drink that!” He protested, trying to grab the glass back as she drank from it, spilling some down the side of her face and neck. “What if it was dangerous for humans eh?” Kore grumbled under her breath, licking her lips and trying to wipe the spilled liquid away while Mammon did his best to look anywhere but the trail of liquid glistening on her skin. Quickly he drained his own cup, grabbing both empty containers and settling them down on a table. “C’mon. We should hit the dance floor, it’ll be easier to hide.” Kore smiled, grabbing his hand and tangling her fingers between his. “I thought you’d never ask!”

Red faced and sputtering Mammon let himself be led by the giggling human further into the press of bodies. The crowd pressing them closer together, until her back was flush against his chest, his hands gripping her hips. She had danced with him before, more than once at the castle and clubs both, but it had never been like this before. This was how she had danced with Asmo that one time, drunk on fancy wine and trying to get his attention after he had neglected her for fancy trinkets all night. Her body rolled against his, pulling him back into the moment as her arm snaked backwards around his neck. Mammon huffed, squeezing her hip and burying his red face in her hair. "This is nice. We should do this more often." She hummed, nuzzling her head against his. "Ya that drunk already human?" He grumbled in response, lips pressed against the side of her head. "No way! I can get way more free drinks than that!" She giggled. "But this feels good too." Mammon sighed contentedly, squeezing her just a little tighter and enjoying the moment a little longer before they went to go 'acquire' more drinks.

"HEY! That's my drink! Get back here you bastard!" Mammon grabbed her hand, pulling her towards the exit as fast as he could. "Time to go?" She giggled, words slurring ever so slightly. "C'mon, stop laughing and run. Lucifer'll kill me if I let ya get eaten!"

3. Solomon

'Theres a gathering of a few witches I know this evening. I'd very much like it if you would come with me.' Kore read over the text a few times, frowning. She wasn't a witch, not technically at least, sure she had pacts with demons now and apparently some magical power, but she wasn't a part of magical society. 'Are you sure it would be okay for me to go?' The reply was almost instantaneous, as if the sorcerer had been watching his phone. 'Of course! You have some very strong magic Kore, you would be more than welcome.' 'Besides, I'd like you to be there. I feel like I haven't seen nearly of you lately x' Kore blushed, shaking her head at the message with a soft smile. 'You charmer :). Alright, give me a time, place and dress code and I'll be there.' 'I'll pick you up at 6. No need to dress up, it's just a friendly gathering.' Kore glanced at the clock on her screen, four hours, plenty of time to finish what she was doing and pretty herself up.

Solomon was alarmingly punctual, knocking on the door almost as soon as the clock ticked over to 6. Kore ushered him inside, still pulling at her hair to try and convince the unruly strands to stay in a neat plait. Solomon smiled softly, pushing her hands down and gently running his fingers through her hair. "Let me." "I didn't know you were a hairdresser too." She teased, leaning back into his touch. "Just a sorcerer." "That's cheating! Though at least this way we won't be late. Thank you." She tilted her head back to smile up at him. "Take me to your witches." "You've spent far too much time with Leviathan." He chuckled, pressing a kiss to her forehead and leading her out of the door. Once the place was locked up and they'd wandered far enough away from curious human eyes, he tugged her down an alleyway. Draping his cloak around her shoulders as he muttered a quick incarnation under his breath. She arched an eyebrow at the gesture but didn't protest, holding tightly to his hand as he teleported them to the meeting place.

"Solomon! You came!" "Oh, who is this pretty little thing? Did you finally take on an apprentice?" "Couldn't be! I don't recognise her. A servant perhaps?" Kore unconsciously pressed herself into his side, staring wide-eyed at the group. Solomon chuckled, pressing his palm gently against her lower back. A small gesture of comfort against the witches curiosity. "This is my… hmm… this is Kore." Kore nodded. "It's nice to meet you?" "Aha! So you're Kore? We've heard so much about you." A dark haired witch laughed, stepping forwards and wrapping a hand around her wrist. "Come, come chat. Agnes brought some of her home brewed blackberry wine, you have to try some. I'm Lucille by the way." Solomon watched with a soft smile as Kore was dragged away to chat with the younger witches, a glass of dark liquid pressed into her hands. "So that's Kore? Nik will be terribly upset he missed out." Solomon turned to the woman beside him. "She is. Try not to start any trouble Circe?" "Oh no, from all I've heard I doubt she needs my help there."

As it turned out Circe was, once again, right. Several stories and a few bottles of wine between the group later the conversation drifted onto the topic of pact-ed demons. Kore sat oddly quiet through the whole thing, leaning against Solomon's shoulder. "Hey Mags, surely you have a new story to tell us?" Solomon looked up and frowned. "Perhaps that isn't the-" "Oh come on Solomon. You'll want to hear these too, last time we were practically rolling on the floor." "I really wouldn't." Solomon sighed. "No really, you've missed out. I never knew a powerful demon could be such an idiot." Kore tensed against him, lifting her head slightly and narrowing her eyes as the unfortunate witch started her story. "...and that's how Lou got the Porsche. Honestly, none of us believed he was stupid enough to fall for it but I guess we overestimated him. And he still believes the money is going to that kid." Several of the witches were cackling, clutching their stomachs and brushing tears from their eyes. Against his shoulder Solomon could feel Kore practically vibrating with rage. Tentatively he wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "Try to stay calm?" He murmured softly. "Don't you feel at least a little bad?" Circe asked, ignoring the sharp look from Solomon for her stirring the pot. "Why should I? If he wasn't so stupid and scu-" What little restraint was holding Kore in place snapped. "How dare you!"

Solomon sighed, pulling out his phone and stepping away from the group. "Solomon! Missing me already?" "Sure. But that's not why I called." He sighed. "Oh, are you sure? I know my voice is wonderful… wait, is that Kore I can hear in the background?" "Ah, yes. There was a gathering tonight and I thought it would be nice to bring her along…. Unfortunately one of the witches here knows Mammon…" Solomon glanced over his shoulder to where Kore had squared up to the witch in question, jabbing a finger quite viciously in her direction while she berated her. "Oh my gosh! That's adorable! Hey Stupid Mammon, come here and listen to this!" "- don't you dare, you shut up and listen. Mammon isn't some idiot you can take advantage of whoever you want some extra cash! He might do stupid things sometimes but he's so kind, and he cares a lot, and you're trying to use that against him! You're the worst kind of person!" "Asmodeus, am I on loudspeaker?" "Of course no-" "Oi! Sorcerer! Ya tell my human to shut her trap, she's embarassin'." Solomon snorted, glancing over his shoulder. "You can tell her that yourself." "- do you know how much trouble you idiots get him into? Do you even care? You keep hurting him and you think it's all some big joke!" "Solomon! Come get your dog." One of the witches called, gesturing towards Kore. "She doesn't bite!" Kore whipped her head around at that, narrowing her eyes at the device in his hand, finally stopping her tirade. "You know damn well I do." "Oi, what was that?! What have you been doin' to my human?" "Oooh, Solomon, have you been taking advantage of sweet little Kore while you had her all to yourself? How utterly wicked of you!" "Ah. Well, I'm not sure sweet is entirely accurate. At least you didn't try to call her innocent…" He cleared his throat, suddenly aware he had spoken his thoughts aloud. "And on that note I should go. I'll be leaving her with you to cool off and sober up. Good luck."

Walking back towards the group he made a beeline for Kore. His little comment had knocked all of the wind out her rant so she was at least stood quietly at last, glaring at Mags with a ferocity Lucifer would be proud of. "I think you've had a little too much to drink." He chuckled, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her into his side. "I did try to warn you. We'll be leaving now." "I'm not sorry." Kore grumbled. "I know." Circe split from the group, walking towards them as they headed away. She waved casually at Solomon, a soft smile on her lips. "I'm so glad you brought her. It was wonderful to meet you Kore." She tilted her head towards Solomon. "I'm extending your open invitation to Kore as well. Do bring her by any time." Solomon nodded. "Of course. Come on Kore, let's leave before Mags breaks out of her shock and curses you. Lucifer will have my head if I let that happen." Kore nodded, waving at the smirking figure of Circe one last time before she let Solomon whisk her away.

4. Satan (& Belphie)

"- I know right?! What was he thinking? It was so obvious!" Kore half-shouted, waving the book towards Satan. "I swear you find some of the best worst books for these." "Lady Cerewenn and the Crow was not a bad book!" Satan protested. "Fair. That was excellent, this on the other hand is wonderfully awful." She sipped from her glass and grinned. "The best kind of book to read with a drink." "So my research on human world book club traditions paid off?" Kore laughed, nodding. "So much! As long as Lucifer doesn't turn up to ruin the fun."

At that moment the door to the library created open, both demon and human cast worried glances across the room. Only to sigh in relief when when Belphie wandered in. "I thought I could hear you cackling." He chuckled, making a beeline for the sofa and flopping down with his head in Kore's lap. "I do not cackle!" She snorted, flicking his ear in retaliation. "Were you looking for me?" "Just wanted a good place to nap." He yawned. "I thought Lucifer banned wine at your book clubs after the chair incident?" "He doesn't need to know." Kore hummed. "We haven't broken anything since." "Except that vase." Kore shot a glare in the blonde's direction. "We don't mention the vase." Belphie chuckled, humming contentedly as the human started running her fingers through his hair. "Don't mind me, carry on with your book club."

"... that book sounds terrible." Kore glanced down, shaking her head. "I thought you were sleeping?" Belphie made a non-committal noise, glancing over at Satan's frown. "I'll admit it isn't my finest pick." He hummed. "I thought it would be more entertaining." "It was hillarious until the last chapter we read, they've started to lose the plot a bit now though." Kore smiled. "I've read worse books." Satan scrunched up his features in disgust, shaking his head. "Human lives are too short for bad books." "Well, since we're all here… how about a club meeting?" Kore glanced down at Belphie and sighed. "We really should keep a low profile. But… I guess I'm in the mood for a prank." "Excellent."

Thirty minutes and the rest of the bottle later the three of them were huddled around the corner from Lucifer's room. "We're sure the door opens inwards right?" Kore hummed, tapping the roll of cling film against her lips thoughtfully. "Yes. You've been in there often enough!" "Look, Satan, paying attention to how the door opens is never at the top of my list of things to think about when I go in there." "So!" Belphie interrupted, waving an arm between the bristling demon and human. "How do we do this?" "We just need to get the cling film across the doorway, as neatly as possible so he can't see it. Then we knock and run," Kore gestured to their hiding place "and we can watch him walk into the invisible barrier from here." "You know, that's not half bad for a human. Lucifer is usually on the lookout for curses, but I bet he wouldn't think of something as mundane as this." "I know, I'm an evil genius." Kore grinned. "Ready?" As quietly as they could, the three of them crept towards the room, pulling strips of the cling film over the door frame. Kore looked over it a couple of times, pulling edges taut and trying to smooth out any overlap so the wall was as invisible as possible. Finally satisfied she gestured towards the wall and nodded, lifting her hand ready to knock. She gave three sharp raps before turning and darting back around the corner to watch. After a few beats the door creaked open slowly and the trio watched as Lucifer slowly poked his head out to look for whoever had disturbed him, only to collide with the cling film.

Kore snorted, clapping a hand over her mouth in an attempt to stifle the noise as she fell backwards against Satan. "You three…" "Run!"

5. Levi

Levi looked up from his game at the sound of three knocks against his door, frowning. Mammon was with Lucifer doing some extra study after his last exam results were terrible, and Kore was supposed to be out with Asmo tonight at some over the top party, no one else really bothered him unless something was happening. "What's the password?" "Uhm… it was something to do with the 2015 Seven Lords… I knew yesterday, damnit!" Levi perked up, he knew that voice. "It's okay, you can come in." Grinning, Kore opened the door and bounced across the room to settle down next to him. "I thought you were with Asmo?" "I was," she sighed, "but there were way too many strange demons, and Asmo ran into a succubus he knows…" she fiddled with her hands a little "he couldn't keep an eye on me and some of them were getting a bit handsy… he knows I left, I think, I told him anyway." A flare of jealousy spiked through Levi, if it was his night with the human he wouldn't be sidetracked by some succubus. It wasn't fair Asmo still got chances like that if he was going to ruin them! "... so I came to spend time with my favourite otaku instead, if that's okay?" Levi flushed. "Oh. U-uh, yeah, it's fine. Are- are you sure you're okay? You seem…" he trailed off, frowning. "I had a few drinks, I can go…" "No! I mean, I, it's okay. You can stay." She smiled softly at him, settling against his side to watch as he gamed.

After a few matches she had started scrolling through her phone, looking up to watch when she felt the demon beside her tense up, or start giving excited commands through his headset. When he finally hit a break between matches she tugged gently on his sleeve. "Leviachan… do you know any anime dances?" Levi frowned. "Why?" Kore showed him her phone. "This one was popular in the human world for a bit. I can do it, but it's way cooler with two people… I maybe thought I could put it on my deviltube?" Levi stared at the screen, watching the movements of the animated couples on screen. It seemed simple enough, especially the Male parts, the dance he learned for their play had been much more complicated. "We don't-" "I'll try it! B- but, it doesn't go on deviltube unless I say so… okay? Or devilgram!" Kore nodded, smiling. "Of course. Thank you Levi!" He flushed as she leant up to kiss his cheek. "H-hey! I thought you said you'd warn me!" Kore shrugged, restarting the video so they could both study the movements more closely before trying to copy them on video. She quietly copied them with her own hands, repeating motions she’d made so many times on her own. After a few more viewings Levi joined in, slow and slightly clumsy at first, but soon picking up the gestures and slotting fluidly into the little routine. With a bright, perhaps slightly tipsy, grin Kore turned to look at him, holding up her DDD. “Are you ready to film?” Levi blushed again, fidgeting with his headphones, but slowly he nodded. She bumped against his shoulder gently, her smile softening with worry. “I promise I won’t put it anywhere unless you say so, and you can always tell me no y’know?” “No. I- I mean, I want to.” He nodded towards the screen. “Just… no, I’ll try.” “Okay.” Kore smiled again. “But first, I’m going to kiss you, okay?” She turned slightly, pressing her lips softly against his this time before pulling back. It was chaste and innocent, and still managed to turn him into a blushing mess. She giggled, crawling forwards to set up the camera while she waited for him to calm down again, despite his mumbles of her unfairness.

The video never made it to deviltube in the end, there were several takes, the first couple of times Levi let his nervousness get the best of him, then as more of the alcohol she’d drunk diffused through her bloodstream Kore got more giggly and her own dancing started to falter. But the final take, the one Kore saved to keep forever, was almost perfect. Until the end when she threw her arms around him and kissed him on the cheek, the last shot before they fell over out of view of the camera was Levi’s blushing face, frozen in shock as they overbalanced.

[driverwaltz]

Precipitate

Manager!Kylo Ren x Singer!Reader

Summary: Taking up late night gigs downtown at the Starlight Lounge was always just a way to earn some extra cash. Most days you’d bartend or bus tables, but on some special days your boss, Michael, would let you act as the live music feature of the night. It was one of those nights when you met him. The dark brooding man in the corner of the dimly lit bar caught your eye and promised opportunity, but nothing could have hinted towards what he had planned for the future.

Rating: Mature. This part is tame though.

Warnings: Unfair power dynamics, age gap, eventual smut, dub-con, drug use, slow burn

Words Count: 1.7K (Ik I went overboard)

Notes: This is my first ever fanfic so pls be nice 🥺. I took the inspiration for this from a couple of songs by the band Interpol and might make a playlist to go along with each chapter. If you guys have any suggestions or constructive criticism on my writing it’d be much appreciated (and needed lol). Also, this moves REALLY slowly in the beginning, but I promise I’ll start to pick up the pace.

Part 1: Meeting place

It broke again.

The only thing that alerted me this time was Michael's voice, booming from the back end of the bar from the kitchen to where I stood near the glassware.

"The third fuckin' time this month that I gotta replace the damn martini glasses 'cause of that hunk-of-shit washer!"

It's an easy fix, he could just replace that "hunk-of-shit" once, and that way he could spare us $65 every time a set of glasses break. It would also save the poor man on the end of the line every time he calls the distributor, demanding a new dozen and a discount. I could remind him this was an option again, but I know better. No matter what I say, I know his pride will go against any sense of better judgment. So, I stay quiet. Let him go on his little tirade while I do what he pays me to do: Act sweet to an array of old drunkards who plop themselves down on the same barstools every Saturday night. After they all get comfy, I make a point to ask about their wives and how their bitch of a boss made them work overtime. At the same time, I whip up concoctions of tequila, salt, and lime for them to hurriedly gulp down and offer me gratitude. However, it's only ever through words, never an extra 15% on the tab.

Kindness in strangers. That's what I was taught. Mama kept a stack of old scripts in a wicker basket near her nightstand, and I remember rummaging through them on static summer days when it was too hot to go outside. Mama never believed in failures. She'd always tell me, "you're constantly learning and improving. Never failing, just falling — stagnant." I like to believe that's true, but I was also raised to be honest. And, In all honesty, I can't deny that Mama was a failure. She moved out to California from Georgia without telling a soul the night she turned 17. She had nothing but her new hand-me-down car, some spare cash she got from waitressing, and a small suitcase full of clothes and essentials. Her dream was to become a performer, an actress, a starlet of her generation. She tried. I know she did, but things don't work out for a reason. So, I too, was born and raised in Georgia. However, unlike how Grandman brought up Mama, I was raised off stories of Mama's journey to Tinsel Town and the people she met rather than Grimms' Fairytales. I learned how to fall asleep to softly hummed show tunes rather than lullabies. Mama never wanted to buy new children's books; instead, she would recite one of her scripts to me. When I got a bit older, I fell in love with The Glass Menagerie by Tennessee Williams, and that's when Mama told me: "Always depend on the kindness of strangers."

I blame Mama. I believe personality is a sort of genetic trait, and I definitely got all of that from Mama. I can never say no to Michael. Not because he scares me or that I'm in full agreeance with him all the time, but whenever the word threatens to leave me lips, it chokes me. Then, I swallow it back down and resume whatever I was doing. No is never an option. It was never an option in the schoolyard or in the house, and especially not during my music classes. Mama wanted me to continue whatever legacy she had crafted for herself, and much to her disappointment, I was not much of a talker, but I was a hummer. So, Mama forced me to turn my quiet hums into fully supported singing. That was the start of it all. I took up guitar after that, and stole my dad's old records and tried to replicate what I would hear. I guess that's how I started writing music, as for what I did with that music...

"(y/n), Lucy said she comin' to take o'er you're shift in a few. If you want, you can clock out for tonight," Michael grumbled from the back in a shout.

"It's only midnight. I've only been working for about four hours, and I need the money this month, so I'm okay working for a little bit more. I can help you out in the back if you'd like," I responded. I really did need the money though, Martin's been on my ass about my lease.

Michael peered at me through the kitchen doorframe for a second, "You got your guitar in your car?"

"Yeah."

"You up to play a few songs tonight? We've got a bit more business tonight."

I felt the muscles in my face pull up and tighten against my will. I hate to admit that sometimes Michael can make me smile, and he was right. I turned to the entrance and slowly, one-by-one, people started coming in and settling down.

"Yes, sir! I'll bring it out." I exclaimed while grabbing my keys from behind the counter and making my way out to my car parked at the back.

After retrieving my case from the trunk, I quickly checked my reflection on the left-hand mirror and smoothed out my hair and touched up my lipstick. I saw a man pass by through the corner and make his way into the bar. I better make tips tonight doing this.

I waltzed back into the bar and headed for the small stage in the front. It's not really a stage more than it's a glorified black stool, but I like to think it's charming and adds character. You know, mask up the patheticness of it all. I plugged in my Fender to the worn-out amps and strummed to make sure it was in tune. There were a lot of people tonight. Well, a lot more than usual, at least. Quickly, I scanned the room for comforting faces to focus on and calm my nerves. Most of our customers were gruff men, so this trick usually didn't work, but tonight was different. In the corner by a little bust made by a local artist sat a man with thick black hair. He was by no means soft. Much like the patrons, he harbored a hard look on his face, but he struck me differently. It was intense and cold. Georgia's a hot place, so I didn't mind his gaze. It was cooling and made me freeze over.

I don't know why, but I want to impress him. Plus, looking down, I saw he was wearing a polished pair of dress shoes, so I assume he's got some money on him, maybe he'll spare me a tip. I'll just play a cover. Can't go wrong with a cover.

My fingers dragged across the guitar strings and drew out the alternating chords of D7 and Am in a back and forth pattern.

"It was the third of June, another sleepy, dusty Delta day... Mama said she got some news this mornin' from Choctaw Ridge... She said Billie Joe McAllister jumped off the Tallahatchie Bridge..."

Bobbie Gentry was one of dad's favorites. I know the country wasn't a popular choice for many people, but this is the South, and Ode to Billie Joe is always a classic, and I think the dreariness of the song perfectly compliments the tone of the bar.

I played a set and earned a couple of measly tips from it. Nothing I could complain about, I guess. It was nearly 1 am, and I was getting tired. Overtime is only worth so much, so I decided it was best to go back home. I packed up my guitar and walked to the bar counter to ask Lucy to clock for me, but before I could even rest my case against the counter, I felt a man slide into the seat next to me.

"You've gotta nice voice," he drawled out while staring at the wall in front of him.

"Thank you. I perform here almost every week."

"Is that right?"

"Yeah..." I couldn't really think of how I could continue this conversation. And, trust me, I really want to. The man was wearing a black button-up shirt, grey trousers, and that impressive pair of dress shoes. His hair was long and gelled back, and his profile was exquisite. He looked strong, and his voice was deep and rich like marmalade.

"You could work on that guitar a little bit," he deadpanned as he took a swig of whiskey. I looked at him even more intensely then and scoffed.

"Really? Can you do better?"

"I never said that. I just think, with a voice like that, the guitar should match up," he said with a playful glint in his voice as he finally turned his head towards me.

Now, I really don't know how to continue this conversation.

"Alright, you caught me. I'm not that great at the guitar, but hey, I'm a bar singer, not Paul McCartney, or something," I laughed out. He smiled, and then I felt all the blood in my body rush to my cheeks, it's a miracle I didn't fall flat on my face.

"I guess I was just expecting more," he said.

"Well, I didn't promise you anything, did I?"

He looked like he was in his late 20s, probably.

"No. No, you didn't. But, maybe you could start... for next time."

"That depends. Are you gonna give me a tip."

"Yes. When I think you deserve it," he said as his face fell flat and his voice authoritative in an odd way.

"Well, I'll probably be here next Saturday so you can decide then."

"Will do," he smirked.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Kylo," he replied in a gentle voice as he once again held his glass of whiskey up. He then raised his eyebrow, and I knew he wanted an answer.

"(y/n)."

He gulped down his whiskey, turned to me, and smiled. I wanted to say something more, I had to say something, but he stopped me before I could by getting up and walking towards the door.

"I gotta be somewhere tomorrow, doll. I'm expecting a show on Saturday," he exclaimed as he stepped out the bar.

"Don't worry... I can put on a show."

He grinned one final time before escaping out of the bar, leaving me alone with his empty cup of whiskey and a smile that doesn't leave my face the entire night.

[kys0g0i]

Always

Pairing(s): One-Sided Romantic Moceit, Brotherly Anxceit

Started: March 14th, 2020, 1:21 AM

Finished: March 31st, 2020, 11:04 AM

Word Count: 2670 words

Warnings: Unsympathetic Patton, One-sided/toxic relationship, Cheating, Manipulating, Yelling at someone, Nonconsensual kissing

Summary: There’s only so much you can forgive someone for.

[Masterlist]

— — —

Horace hadn’t meant to fall for Patton Lov. It had been an accident, really. Patton was sweet, lovely, and kind. And Horace was... well, not that. He was a harsh, cruel, and a liar. Something that most didn’t look for when searching for a lover or a person to even try and befriend. But, here he was, heads over heels for the boy.

Patton Lov was a preppy boy. Curly light brown hair, sky blue eyes, and white, sunkissed skin. He wore pastel colors, usually very feminine clothes, and huge circular glasses. Horace, on the other hand, was more of the loner type, only willingly talking to two other people in his school, Remus Grimm and Virgil Anx. He had vitiligo, which made his dark skin lighter on the left half of him, for the most part. (He wasn’t self-conscious of it, he actually really liked it. He just didn’t appreciate how some of his peers would stare at him until he snapped at or embarrassed them.) Dark hazel eyes and short, curly hair that he almost always had hidden behind a yellow beanie. He almost always wore a black zip-up hoodie with either a grey or yellow undershirt, and dark blue ripped jeans that cuffed up just a little bit before they reached his yellow converse.

He didn’t think of himself as ugly, though not particularly attractive either. More of a middle ground between the two categories, but definitely not good looking enough for the likes of Patton to even so much as notice him. (Not that it bothered him. It /absolutely didn’t./) So when Horace had found himself friends with the boy, and much much later down the line, in a relationship with Patton? He was... a bit more than surprised or shocked.

“-ace? Horace!”

Horace snapped out of his daze with a small jump, blinking as he glanced towards the voice. It was his boyfriend, who was leaning against him. They were sat on the couch, watching some random movie. He had his arm around the blue-eyed boy, who he couldn’t tell if he looked pleased with the action or not. “Patton.” He replied back calmly.

“Did you even hear me?” Patton moodily complained, arms crossed.

“...Yes?”

The preppy boy grumbled dramatically at his response. “I said, that I wanted you to tell me you loved me.”

Horace, though not a fan of his tone, smiled down at him adoringly. Shifting so he could reach him easier, he pressed a kiss to Patton’s head, making him give a giggle that made his heart leap. “I love you, sweetheart.” He softly cooed. “More then you could ever know.”

Patton smiled up at him. “Always?” He asked. “You’ll always love me?”

Horace softened, pulling his love closer to him.

“Always.”

•

Horace quickly silently moved around the room with a smile, throwing a jacket on and tucking his hair into his usual yellow beanie before going over to his desk to retrieve his wallet. He couldn’t wait, not even for Patton to wake up, who had spent the night with him. He had been waiting for ages for the next game in his favorite series to come out, and it was finally here. He had spent so long saving up money while still trying to set aside almost all of his money for college, leaving some to take Patton out or get him something, and still trying to keep his grades up, he couldn’t believe he had managed to choke up the cash for it.

Picking up the brown wallet, he checked inside, wanting to make sure the sixty dollars were still there. But at what Horace saw made his blood run cold.

The money... all sixty dollars... just... gone.

Feeling panic start to rise in him, the brown-eyed boy began to frantically search for the missing money in the other wallet pockets, and when he didn’t find it there, he began to look through the entire room. He had managed to get through his whole desk before Patton finally woke up from the commotion.

Patton yawned as he woke up, reaching over to the bedside table to be able to put on his circular glasses before looking over at Horace annoyedly with narrowed eyes. “What the heck are you doing?” He asked, rubbing the sleep from his blue eyes and moving to the edge of the bed so he could see the other male easier.

“I, I can’t fucking-“

“Language.”

“I can’t freaking find my money. My sixty dollars. It, it was just in my wallet a day or so ago!”

Patton let out a long and quiet sigh, before speaking up five seconds later. “Oh, Horace, I spent that two days ago.” He said calmly. “Whenever we went to that one restaurant.”

Horace felt his stomach drop as he whipped around to look at his boyfriend with a look of devastation. “You what?” He asked with horror. “Patton, I spent so long saving up for this! You know how much this meant to me! I promised Virgil I would get this game for us to play tonight! Is that money what you used to pay for our bill, when you said you... you would...”

He didn’t have the strength to go on as soon as he heard Patton’s sobs. He had his head lowered, hands tightly gripping the fabric of his pajama pants as tears fell from his face. “Why are you yelling at me? I just wanted that, t-that restaurant date to be nice, b-but I didn’t have the money...! I didn’t... I didn’t want to ask you because I was too ashamed of myself, a-and...!” His voice trailed off as he brought his hands to his face to cover it, his trembling becoming apparent.

Horace softened in sympathy, feeling guilt creep up and stab at him for making his boyfriend cry. “Oh, oh Pat no. No no please don’t cry.” He gently said, dropping the wallet and rushing over to comfort him by sitting on the bed and pulling him into a tight embrace. “I’m sorry. It’s alright, okay? It’s just some stupid game. I... I can get it later. It doesn’t matter.” That was a lie. It was their senior year, and it was almost over, too. There was no way he was going to be able to get the money quick enough to be able to play it with his little brother, Virgil, and it wouldn’t be fair to ask it from his parents. They already did enough for the two of them as it is.

Patton shook his head, his crying having not stopped in the slightest. “I just... I-I just don’t understand why you don’t love me.” He whimpered. “You love Virgil over me, you even love a game more then me. That’s why you were mad, isn’t it? You don’t love m-me... If you loved me you would actually show it...”

“I do love you!” Horace protested, feeling his own tears prick at his own eyes, but knowing if he let himself cry around Patton, it would only make things worse. “I love you so much, I’m so sorry if I haven’t been showing you that. I love you more than anything else. Please don’t cry. I’ll make it up to you, okay? I’ll, I’ll try and work up some more money and we can go wherever you want. Is that good?”

Patton sniffed, and Horace could tell he was still crying, but it was beginning to slow. “O-Okay...” He murmured. 

“I love you, Patton. So much.”

Horace wished he would have seen the cruel smile that spread across his boyfriend’s face. Maybe he would have seen the already obvious signs sooner. Maybe this could have all been avoided. “...Always...?”

“Always.”

•

Horace burst out laughing, leaning back against the end board of his fourteen-year-old brother’s bed before turning to look at him amusedly. “You’re such a sassy little bitch, you know that right?” He asked, taking one of his hands off of the controller to ruffle his jet black hair.

Virgil smiled at his words, playfully batting at the hand that was ruining his already messy hair. “It’s true!” He almost beamed at him, hitting pause on his own controller so he could look up at his brother without ruining the chance of ruining his game. “I bet I could kill more enemies then you any day!”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah!”

Horace laughed at his words, relishing the rare moment of his brother having actual confidence in something. He was about to say he was on, that he would show him just who he was messing with, when he felt his phone buzzing in his pocket. Quickly, he pulled it out, only to see that Patton was calling him. Again.

Virgil softened, his excited smile fading. “Is that Patton again?” He asked, if a bit disappointedly.

Horace sighed, nodding. “Yeah, it is.” He murmured, getting to his feet. “I better remind him of why I’m not answering. I’ll be right back, alright?” As he hurriedly crossed the room to be able to take the call in the privacy of his own home, he knew that both of them could tell that it was a lie. Once he made it to his own room, he finally answered his phone, guessing he just barely made it in time so he didn’t get another missed call. (It would have been his seventh missed call from him this hour.) Almost immediately after picking up, he heard Patton call out to him in almost an irritated voice.

“Horace! Baby, I’ve been trying to get in contact with you for so long now! Where were you?!”

Horace held back a sigh, knowing he was most likely regret it more then words could describe if Patton managed to hear it. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that Pat. Didn’t you see my text? I told you I was going to hang out with my brother for a while and play video games together. We haven’t been spending much time together because I’m always out with you, and-“

“Do you not like to spend time with me?” Patton interrupted, voice lined with hurt and betrayal. “Is that why you’ve been ignoring me? That is, isn’t it? You don’t like me anymore. You’re bored of me. I should have known this would happen. Why would anymore like you ever want to be around someone like me?”

Horace softened, pushing down the small part of him that was annoyed with how insecure Patton was about these things. (Like he didn’t go out on a date with him just yesterday.) “Patton, you know that’s a lie.” He said gently, wishing he could be beside him right then so he could comfort him physically too. “I love you so much, why would I ever be bored of you?”

“Because you were ignoring me... I was worried, and I missed you...” Patton whimpered, making Horace feel as if a tiny part of his heart snapped and guilt poked at him. “If you really meant what you said, you’d come over today and spend the rest of the day with me. And stop spending so much time with people other than me, especially because you know it hurts me, Horace...”

Horace hesitated for a moment, not exactly wanting to agree to the words, but seeing that he didn’t really have a choice. He quietly sighed. “Okay, Pat. You can come over for a bit. I promise I’ll start spending more time with you.” He said, already regretting what he was promising. “And, I’m sorry I hurt you. You know I don’t mean to, right? I’m just dumb and miss signals that I shouldn’t.”

He heard a sniffle on the other side of the line before he actually heard Patton, and he became aware that his boyfriend had been crying over this, which just made his regret smooth over with fresh guilt. “Okay...” He murmured, though sounding upset, Horace could hear the slight happiness and almost triumph in his voice. “Promise you’re sorry...? And that you’re not just using me...? That... That you actually love me...?”

“I promise I’m sorry, that I’m not using you, and that I actually love you. You mean the world to me. I’ll always love you.

“Always.”

•

“-...Was this all just a game to you, Patton? A fucking game?!”

“Horace! Please, let me explain! You have this whole thing wrong!”

Horace laughed at his boyfr- Patton’s words, shaking his head as he ran his hand through his hair and tried not to let tears spring into his eyes. Never in a million years would he think he would find his boyfriend cheating on him with some girl, and the day before graduation too. But, that’s exactly what he found. And honestly? Maybe he should have seen it sooner.

No, he knew he should have seen it sooner. How could he have been so blind?

“It was all just an act, wasn’t it? An act so you can get whatever the hell you want from me! You didn’t actually love me!” Horace snapped at him, forcing his anger not to dull at the tears that sprung in the other’s eyes. Crocodile tears, that’s what they are, what they’ve always been, so he would give in to what he wants.

“No, it fucking wasn’t!” Patton shot back angrily, beginning to raise his voice at him. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t scare him a little bit. (Would he get violent with him?) “I loved you! But you’re being such a bitch right now I don’t even want to love you!”

“Oh, I’m the bitch?! You’re the one who’s manipulated me for months and then cheated on me!” Horace could feel rage boiling inside of him, and he wanted nothing more than to storm away, their relationship done, but he had more he wanted to say to his new ex. “God, you’re such a horrible liar, Patton. That’s why you did all that shit, isn’t it? You cried to win every argument, didn’t care if I had to sacrifice something just to make you happy, basically forced me to spend time with you above everyone else. You were just using me! Fuck, why didn’t I see that sooner?!”

Before he could even think to say anything else, Patton lunged forward, cupping either side of his face and connecting their lips. Horace, quick to push his ex away, looked at him in disgust and horror. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“Horace, I love you!” Patton pleaded, but he could still clearly hear the fury and bitterness in his voice as tears began to roll down his face. “Please, don’t leave me! I won’t be able to live without you! I’ll go insane! Please, I’m begging you, stay with me!”

And, just like that, Horace almost gave in. He could feel himself softening, wanting to give into Patton’s pleads and apologize, saying he loves him too. Because, really, he did still love him. But, deep down, he knew he had to leave him. He couldn’t do this anymore, not after realizing how blind he had been. He couldn’t bear to put the blindfold back on.

Horace forced himself to shake his head, staring down at him with cold yet hurt covered eyes. “No, Patton. We’re over.” He said sternly, almost choking on his own words as tears began to gather in his own eyes. “Don’t ever, ever talk to me again.”

Turning around, he pushed himself to walk away as the tears began to roll down his cheeks. But, he held his head high, ignoring Patton’s screaming to him to come back and that he’ll regret this. Horace knew, he would remember this for the rest of his life. That he would be forever unsure of entering another relationship, for fear of being used again. That he would remember Patton, what he had wanted for them together versus what he actually got.

Always.

[rwby-grimm-guardians]

RWBY Grimm Guardians Arc 3: Separated Union Ch 7

Side Yellow II: Acceptance

Welcome back to Separated Union! Here is Side Yellow II, where Ember finally gets some help and Yang reveals some issues she has...and finds out about Ruby’s situation.

For those wondering, this takes place the day after Side Red II.

As usual, please give constructive criticism and enjoy.

Disclaimer: Still own nothing.

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(1:34 PM)

“Dad?” Yang asked, walking into the living room. Taiyang, sitting on the couch, turned from a book he was reading with a raised eyebrow, “Yes?” The teenager then pointed towards the front door. Standing up, her father looked through the window to see Ember on the lawn. Taiyang sighed, “No improvement?” His daughter shook her head, “I tried. I really did.” “I know.” The man smiled. “Though you know how stubborn she is. She’s been like that for quite some time.”

Yang sighed, “I wish she tried to get rid of that part of her. It’d help her.” Taiyang nodded, “I agree. How long have you been trying to get her to speak out?” The teenager rubbed her eyes, “Since this morning…” The blonde man sighed. There was one other time he had experienced something similar to this before. Though he’d hoped that Ember wouldn’t descend that far again. “I’ll try to do something.” He said. He gave a smile at his daughter’s confused glance, “Trust me. I got this.”

Nodding, Yang, joined by Zwei, went to the kitchen to get something to eat, while Taiyang headed outside.

Ember hadn’t been in this state since Taiyang ended up hospitalized during his years at Beacon and said blonde knew it. He had been watching his “sister”’s behavior since the aftermath at Beacon...and he knew how depressed and guilt-ridden she was. Though...he had really wished it had never gotten this bad again. She was entering dangerous territory now. He wasn’t one to pry into her issues, but Taiyang knew he needed to do something to help her. Even if it was just a simple conversation.

He was also aware that this woman could hospitalize him if he irritated her, so he needed to tread the road lightly.

He walked up to Ember sitting on the lawn, before sitting next to her. “What do you want, Tai…?” The tanned woman asked, in the same tone she had since the Fall of Beacon. Pure and utter defeat. Sighing, the blonde man sat next to the one he’d call his sister, saying, “I know you don’t want to....” There was silence, before Taiyang said, “But you need to talk to someone.” “I have Gambol, my significant other.” Ember said. It was true that she had her love interest to talk to about her problems.

But there was an issue...

“I fear that she alone might not be enough.” He said. There was no response, so he decided to explain himself. “Ember, I know you’re in turmoil now…” Taiyang said. “You haven’t been like this since I got hospitalized.” He could see Ember tightening her fists. The blonde man sighed, “Sister, believe me. I could not be more happy for you with Gambol. And I’m happy she’s helping you in this time of need.” Ember then looked at the man she’d call her brother, “But…?”

“She still has yet to fully know you.” Taiyang explained. He wasn’t lying, as Gambol still didn’t know all that Ember was. Not even the woman’s history with anxieties. The blonde  man put his hands on Ember’s shoulders, “Ember, I’ve been with you through hell and back. I’ve been with you since I was 13.” The blonde woman bit her lip as Taiyang continued, “All I want is you to be happy, but you aren’t going to be if you don’t open up to the one who knows you best.”

“Please… Let me help you.” He pleaded. Taiyang hated doing it, but he did it anyway. A moment passed. Two moments. Four. After about ten full seconds, The blonde man swore he saw tears. Ember looked up at the man with tears running down her cheeks, before begging him, “Help me…! Please...” Without a word, Taiyang pulled the tanned woman into a hug, tightly embracing her as she cried into his shoulder. “I got you, hun.” He reassured her. “I’m here. I always am…”

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(6:15 PM)

Yang had excused herself from dinner and went outside to take a phone call from her half-sister. “How are you doing, Rubes?” She asked with a smile. “Alright…” Ruby said. “Better than I was last night and this morning. At the Mistral International Clinic now.” The blonde raised an eyebrow, “Did...something happen?” The younger teenager nodded, “Please don’t freak out… But we got into a...bit of battle with that ‘Bat Queen’ chick Mom hates.” Yang nodded. She would ask Ruby about Summer later.

Right now, she needed to focus on Ruby’s health. “So, I’m assuming you got injured and have gotten medical attention?” The blonde asked. The young leader nodded, “Yeah, but it was...kinda serious.” Yang swore she almost felt her heart stop beating, asking, “Did...did you get shot…?” The few moments of silence were the only answer Yang needed. “I’m heading there tomor-.” She was cut off by Ruby pleading, “I’m okay! I promise, Yang. I’m healing. Mom and a doctor friend of hers helped.”

“I’m...physically okay, at least…” The younger teenager said, trailing off as her voice went to a whisper. “Show me pictures.” Yang said. Ruby didn’t waste time sending a picture of the bandages on her abdomen. The blonde sighed, the sight of her young half-sister injured breaking her heart, “Gods, Ruby…” “Yang, I promise I’m healing.” The young leader said. “I’ll be here for a week. Doctor’s orders.” The blonde sighed, sitting on the patio, “I know. It’s just… I don’t ever want you to be in this state…”

Ruby nodded, “I know. It’s the same for me with you…” A few moments of silence passed again, before Yang asked, “You said physically, right?” The young leader sighed, “I’ve...never been that scared in my life… I...I actually thought I was...  You know-.” “Breathe. Breathe.” The blonde whispered. “Slowly. Try not to think about it. It was the same with my injuries…” “It’s hard…” The young leader mumbled. “I know it is. Believe me, I know…” Yang replied. “Let’s move to a different subject, hmm?”

“Please.” Ruby said, sniffing. Nodding, Yang said, “So, she finally told you.” Her younger sister nodded with the smallest of laughs, “Yeah.” “I was wondering when she’d tell you, honestly.” The blonde said. Ruby hummed softly, before saying in a sad tone, “Mom thought I was going to resent her. Just because she died.” Her older sister nodded, “I think both of us would be in our moms’ positions. I’m sure my mother is fearing the same thing.” “This family has anxiety issues, I think.” The young leader sighed.

Yang nodded with a soft chuckle, “You’re right, but I’m not sure if we should say that.” “So, how are you?” The young leader asked. The blonde sighed, looking at the sunset, “Could be worse. It’s been...uneventful and tiring. But it’s fine.” Ruby heard the silent confession that her older sister was ALSO dealing with problems… However, she nodded, “And Ember?” Yang chuckled, “She’s getting there. Began showing some improvement this afternoon. Thank Dad for that.”

Ruby nodded, “Good. Speaking of Dad, how is he?” The blonde sighed, “Nothing seems different about his attitude, so that’s a good sign… I hope.” “He’s not willing to talk about my mother though.” She explained. Her younger sister nodded, “Well, it was a rough moment in his life, right? So that’s...not too surprising.” Yang nodded, “How’s Super Mom?” “Good. She’s eating right now.” The young leader said. “She’s been tired most of the morning.” “She pulled an all-nighter, didn’t she?” Yang asked.

The younger teenager hummed, “You bet she did. Uncle Qrow said that she hadn’t been  that worried since our moms, his, and Dad’s days at Beacon.” “I think a part of her blames herself for my injuries…” She explained. “Even though that isn’t and never will be the case…” The blonde hummed, before Ruby said, “I’m sorry if this is...invasive, but… You don’t sound alright…” Yang sighed, “That obvious, huh? Well, you’re not wrong...” A few moments of silence passed again as the younger teenager waited.

“Anxiety and nightmares are rearing their hideous heads again.” The blonde said. “About Beacon…” “Yang, I think you might need to speak to a doctor about this…” The younger teenager said. She then sighed, “Sis, you, Weiss, Blake, and I experienced a traumatic event. As did Mom, Weiss’s mom, and Gambol and Ember. We need legitimate help…” Yang grunted, looking at the ground, “Easier said than done, you know that.” Ruby nodded, “Believe me, I know.”

“Even with Mom, Uncle Qrow, and my doctor’s help, I’m still struggling.” The young leader explained. “I only just managed to explain what’s been going on to my doctor this afternoon…” Yang sighed, “We all need help.” Her younger sister nodded, sighing as well, “Yeah, we do.” A few moments of silence passed, before Ruby said, “I love you, Sis.” “Love you too.” The blonde whispered, wiping a few tears. She was sure the younger teenager was doing the same, given by her sniffles.

“Wanna help me with ideas for my robo arm?” Yang asked. She smiled when she heard her sister chuckle, “Please…”

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And that is it for Side Yellow II. This was a bit hard for me, as I was busy with IRL stuff lately, but I hope it came out good. Next will be the end of Side Red, which will have a bit of a bonus chapter connected to it. See you then.

[mageicalwishes]

Crying In My Prom Dress - Chapter 1

Read on AO3: here 

Summary: The Leaver's Ball marks the end of the school year. The end of their time at Watford. Baz has a confession to make before it's too late. But, will he ever pluck up the courage to tell Simon how he feels? Inspired by the song "Prom Dress" by Mxmtoon.

Chapter: 1/7

Words: 1537

Just to avoid confusion - This fic is set in an AU where none of the major events that take place within "Carry On" happened and takes place in their Eighth year at Watford, although Baz was still kidnapped by Numpties. No front seat for him.

Baz

It’s bad enough that I have to share a room with Snow given the ... circumstances. The last four years at Watford have practically been hell. Sharing a room with the person you want the most is like sharing a room with an open fire. He’s constantly drawing you in. And you’re constantly stepping too close. And you know it’s no good - that there is no good - that there’s absolutely nothing that can ever come of it. But you do it anyway. And then … Well. Then you burn. As it happens, I am severely burned. Charred, even. I’ve tried to stop it. I’ve tried everything. Everything just to make all of this go away. I tried fighting him (but every time he’d tackle me to the floor my brain still strayed to, shall we say, “devious” places). I still loved him, even though I spent my days desperately trying to convince him (and everyone else around us) that I didn’t. I tried “getting it out of my system” the summer after Fifth year (but that just provided me with a new array of distracting mental images my mind could wander to when he was lying barely a metre away from me). I still loved him. Last Summer, I desperately tried to find someone else. Anyone who could just take my mind off of Snow. But, that failed too (obviously). Nobody else could compare to Snow - How could they? They weren’t him. Of course I didn't want them - I wanted him. I still loved him. So, I’m not entirely sure what I’m doing here right now. I’m not sure why I insist on torturing myself further. Sharing a room with him has been painful enough, but that’s mandatory. That’s all the Crucible’s fault. Following him when I know he’s going to meet Wellbelove, that’s … soul-crushing. And, that’s all my fault. Even for me this pathetic. Pining after him like bloody Romeo to Rosaline. Father would be so disappointed. The heir to the Grimm-Pitch estate, trailing after the Mage’s protégé like a love-sick puppy. It would bring him to tears. But here I am. They’ve stowed themselves away in a cosy, little storage room. And I’m sat (alone), hidden away on a balcony, watching them through the window. Like I said, pathetic.  

They’re practising their steps for the upcoming Leaver’s Ball. Simon Snow can’t dance. He’s stomping all over her pretty silk boots. She looks lovely today (as always) - all golden white hair and creamy pink skin. She’s opaque. Like milk. Like white glass. He looks - Well, he looks perfect (as always, he’s inflammably handsome). He’s still wearing his uniform, minus the tie. He’s loosened the top few buttons of his shirt, revealing the moles that are scattered all across his collarbones. I’d kiss them - If I could. I’d kiss every single mole on his stupid body. But I can’t. He’d never let me. His trousers are hugging him just right. It’s nearing the end of the school year so (with all that gorging himself on scones and roast beef) he’s filling them out deliciously. His bronze curls are delightfully tousled (he runs his hands through them at least one hundred times a day). And he’s flashing a delightfully charming grin, small crinkles forming beside his eyes. His eyes are an ordinary blue. You could say they’re nothing special … but that would be a lie. They’re captivating. Simon Snow is an artwork - beautiful, but untouchable. At least, untouchable to me. Not to her. Not to Wellbelove.

Simon takes a particularly bad step and she stumbles backwards (he always has been a clutz). He catches her, wrapping a strong arm around her waist and pulling her back against him. He’s smiling down at her, and she’s smiling back up at him. Repulsive. I wasn’t convinced about them as a couple (and not just because I’m hopelessly jealous of her). When I flirted with her in Fifth year (another desperate attempt to ensure Snow and the others didn’t suspect my feelings for him), she definitely reciprocated. She was certainly eager . But looking at them now … They’re shining together. They’re glowing every shade of White and Gold. It’s practically blinding. They’re a picture-perfect fairy tail - the pretty princess and her heroic prince charming. I'm the monstrous villain. Well, as long as the prince is happy, I suppose.

Then, a voice started me from my thoughts. I nearly whipped myself around at the sound - Thankfully, I caught myself before I did. I hadn’t realised I was no longer alone. How embarrassing. “He’ll never give her up, you know. Not without good reason,” they repeated.

“Hello, Bunce,” I answered, refusing to turn to look at her. I can’t tell if I’m blushing. It’s been a while since I’d fed, hopefully my cheeks are unable to betray me. Still, best not to risk it.

“You’re wasting your time. He thinks she’s his destiny - he can’t help himself. Believe me, I’ve tried talking some sense into them both.” She sounds tired. Snow’s poor long-suffering companion. I understand. Snow is certainly intelligent (although I’d never tell him that), but he can be painfully thick sometimes.

“What do you mean? Badmouthing Watford’s golden couple, Bunce. Tut Tut Tut,” I mock.

“They make each other miserable. Not always. Sometimes they - Sometimes it’s good. They’re just not right for each-other, though. I know it. She knows it too. I can see it in her eyes sometimes. It’s just, Simon isn’t quite there yet. He still thinks he's in love with her. I don't think he ever has been - not really”. That is … certainly not what I was expecting her to say.

“And why are you telling me all this?” I ask, genuinely curious.

“Simon may be oblivious, but I’m not. I’ve seen the way you look at him.” Oh. Shit. She knows. Denial - that’s always served me well in the past.

“I don’t know what you mean,” I say, not quite managing to maintain my usual coolness.

“I think that you do, Baz. It’s okay. You can trust me. I’ve suspected for a while. I would never tell anyone - Not even him. Although, I think it would be in both of your best interests if I did.” I believe her. In spite of her more annoying personality traits, Bunce has always struck me as a fundamentally good person (she’s always been there for Simon when he needed her).

“Well as you said, he can’t help himself. Neither can I. I can, however, help the amount of damage my … “emotional affliction” does. I’m not going to tell him. I always thought - I thought I might, one day. But he doesn’t reciprocate. He can’t. He already has enough reasons to hate me. I’m not giving him another.”

“Boys. You can never just talk,” she sighs. “I love Simon, I do, but he’s oblivious, even about the way he feels. You don’t have to do anything, like I said your secret’s safe with me. But, if you did. Tell him, that is. I think you’d be surprised. I’ve never seen anybody as invested in somebody as Simon is in you. He can tell himself he’s trying to catch you “plotting” all he wants, but it goes way beyond that. He talks about you all the time - far more than he ever has about Agatha. I don't think you ever leave his mind.  When you weren’t here at the start of the year he practically broke down. He was constantly on the verge of going off the whole time you were missing. I could hardly breathe over all his magic. Even if he doesn’t realise it, even if you don’t, I think he does reciprocate. And, even if I’m somehow wrong (which I’m definitely not), he wouldn’t hate you for it. Honest,” she says. Oh. Okay. So, Bunce thinks I have a chance. Cool. Good. Great. Crowley. Stay calm, Basilton.

“Okay, Bunce. Whatever you say,” I reply, attempting to keep my voice as flat as possible. She sighs (again), and I hear her swing the door open behind me.

“I just want what is best for Simon. For you too, Baz. I know you don’t want to hurt him. I don’t think you ever have, not really. Neither of you are really happy as is. I just - I just want you to at least give yourselves the chance to be, before it’s too late.” And then, she was gone.

I can feel my heart stuttering within my chest. My mind is racing. Bunce thinks I have a chance with Snow. Bunce thinks Snow may … return my affections. Bunce wouldn’t lie. Aleister Crowley, I’m living a charmed life. She could be wrong though. And even if she’s not, he’s not going to give up Agatha. Nobody in their right mind would, I mean look at her. Should I tell him? Would it ruin everything? I mean, Snow already hates my guts, I’m not sure there is really much left to ruin. But, I can’t. I’m a monster, and Snow’s - well Snow’s decidedly not. I dedicated half my time at this bloody school to being as cruel to him as I possibly could. He could never never love me back, not the way I love him.

[darksaiyangoku]

RWBY Versus XV: Origins

CHAPTER 1: REAPER

Legends. Stories scattered through time. 

Mankind has grown quite fond of recounting the exploits of heroes and villains, forgetting so easily that we are remnants, byproducts, of a forgotten past. 

Man, born from dust, was strong, wise and resourceful. But he was born into an unforgiving world. An inevitable darkness, creatures of destruction. The creatures of Grimm set their sights on man and all of his creations. These forces clashed, and it seemed the darkness was intent on returning man’s brief existence into the void. 

However, even the smallest spark of hope is enough to ignite change and in time, man’s passion, resourcefulness and ingenuity led them to the tools that would help even the odds. This power was appropriately named “Dust”. Nature’s wrath in hand, man lit their way through the darkness and in the shadow’s absence came strength, civilisation and most importantly, life. 

But even the most brilliant lights eventually flicker and die. And when they are gone, darkness will return. So you may prepare your guardians, build your monuments to a so-called free world but take heed… there will be no victory in strength. 

But perhaps victory is in the simpler things that you've long forgotten. Things that require smaller, more honest souls. For you see, people believe in hope. That when darkness veils the world, Warriors of Light shall come. This is a tale of those warriors; six young men and six young women.

This is a fantasy based on reality.

A small, calm breeze stroked the trees in the early hours of dawn. From them, a few leaves started to slowly drift to the ground. It was a sure sign that autumn was coming. Beside the trees stood a tall, wooden house and, from the windows, a young girl looked outside. She had short, dark red hair and wore black pyjamas. Her most striking feature, however, were her silver eyes. She sighed deeply and smiled at the sight of the fallen leaves. Suddenly, she jumped as she heard a knock at the door.

“Ruby!” called a voice from outside her room. “Are you up yet? Dad has breakfast ready.”

“Coming, Yang.” she replied. In a frenzy, Ruby muddled her bed and nearly tripped on her way to the bathroom. After a quick shower, she changed into her clothes; a long-sleeved black dress with a black and red corset Red trims were on the end of her skirt and sleeves. Long red stockings covered her legs and she wore black combat boots, with red trims at the soles. Ruby looked in the mirror and gave a small twirl, beaming in delight.

“And now it’s time for the finishing touch.” she giggled. From the drawers underneath the wardrobe, she unfolded a long, red cloak with a hood. With a huge grin on her face, she draped it over her shoulders. “Perfect.” 

Before she left for the kitchen, Ruby glanced at her bookshelf and decided to take one of her books with her to breakfast. It was bound in red leather and gold writing covered the front, reading; The Tale of the Red Banshee. She headed downstairs to find her sister, clad in an orange tank top and black shorts, munching on some toast and eggs. Yang’s long, golden hair glowed in the sunshine. Their father, Taiyang, was frying up a second batch of eggs. 

“Morning, Ruby,” he greeted. With his spatula, he flipped the eggs over onto a small plate and handed it to Ruby. “Sunny side up!”

Ruby rolled her eyes in amusement. “Dad, you really need a new apron, you look all messy again.” she said. Tai’s lilac eyes were wide with horror as he took a look at his clothes. His usual tanned shirt and brown cargo shorts were stained in oil splashes. Even his blonde hair was covered with crumbs from the toast.

“Aw, no.” he groaned. 

“It’s okay, you can put it in the wash later.” Ruby joined Yang on the table and dug into her breakfast. Yang, her face covered in toast crumbs, took a glance at Ruby’s book beside her plate.

“You’re still reading that book again, Rubes?” she asked. Ruby nodded her head in delight.

“That I am, Yang. It’s one of my favourite fairy tales.” she replied. Yang snickered under her breath. It was sweet whenever her younger sister got excited. Minutes passed after they all finished their breakfast and Ruby sat comfortably on the sofa. She flipped open her book, setting her sight onto the first chapter, and began to read.

A long time ago, the people were subjected to a horrible curse. When the full moon rose, a savage wolf-beast wreaked havoc on the small village of Holz. He showed no mercy, and with claws and fangs as sharp as knives, he slaughtered countless innocents. Men, women and even children were all killed by his hand. Any attempt to fight back was useless, for his vicious howl would cause the mob to be paralysed. By the morning’s light, the wolf-beast had left, and the village was in ruins. Buildings were either broken or burnt and the survivors scrambled to find whatever shelter they could find, in fear of the beast’s inevitable return. For many nights, they prayed for a miracle, but they received nothing but more bloodshed. Hope was lost.

Ruby gulped in anticipation. Even at fourteen-years-old, she would always get goosebumps.

But one day, their prayers would soon be answered. A young woman with beautiful raven hair and blue eyes rode into Holz on a white horse. On her right, a short sword hung from her waist. Several people gathered around her, hands up as if they were in the presence of a Goddess. She smiled warmly and descended from her horse, where a small boy ran to her. 

“Have you been sent here to help us?” he asked weakly. The woman’s face fell with heartbreak, the boy’s clothes were tattered, his hair dishevelled, and his face covered in scratches. 

“I will do my best.” The woman said. “As a Huntress, I swear to it.”

“Who are you?”

“I am the Red Banshee.”

This part of the story always made Ruby excited. Ever since she was a child, she always dreamed of becoming a Huntress. They were more than just fairy tales, however, they were very real. The Huntsmen and Huntresses were the defenders of Remnant, protecting humanity from the evil creatures of Grimm. In the seven kingdoms, there were academies dedicated to teaching the art combat and training young, aspiring Huntsmen. Both Ruby and Yang were training to become Huntresses, even managing to forge their own weapons. Suddenly, Ruby felt a brush against her shoulder, finding Yang standing over her, smirking.

“I’m gonna get some extra training done today.” she said. “You wanna join me?” Ruby’s eyes widened with excitement.

“Aw yeah!” she cheered, almost dropping the book. 

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Yang chuckled. “Just wait right here, I’ll get changed into my combat gear.” With that, she zipped upstairs into her room. Ruby laid back on the sofa and a mischievous smirk crossed her lips. 

I’m not gonna lose this time, Yang! she thought. Prepare to eat Dust!

* * *

Yang’s outfit consisted of a tan jacket, with short, puffed sleeves, a yellow crop top, an orange scarf wrapped around her neck, black shorts and brown, knee high boots. On her left boot was a purple bandana tied to it and on her wrists were small, golden metallic bands and black fingerless gloves. Soon the two girls entered deep into the forest, finding a good spot not too far from their house. After a quick stretch, they took their fighting stances. Ruby began to charge at full force but found herself knocked down in an instant. 

“Ow.” she winced. Yang approached her and chuckled in amusement before offering her hand.

“You could’ve easily dodged that, you know.” she said, still smiling from the fall.

“I’ve told you a million times that I’m not good at hand-to-hand combat.” Ruby groaned.

“And you never will be if you don’t practice.” 

“You know if I had my scythe, I would’ve beaten you!”

Yang sighed. “There you go with that scythe again. I know you’re awesome with that weapon of yours, but you can’t always rely on it. Your whole body can be a weapon.” Ruby simply folded her arms and pouted, causing Yang to laugh. 

“Hey,” she said, placing her hand on her sister’s shoulder. “Next week I’ll be heading off to Beacon Academy. I wanna make sure you can hold your own while I’m gone.” Beacon Academy was the most prestigious Huntsmen Academy in the Kingdom of Vale, and Yang trained very hard in order to be admitted. Before graduation at the Signal Combat School, students had to prepare for a final entrance exam in order to qualify. Fortunately for Yang, she passed with flying colours. Ruby was really happy for her sister, hoping to reach her level as soon as she finished at Signal. With newfound determination, Ruby readied herself as they continued their sparring match. Yang made the first move by throwing a punch directly at her. Ruby barely dodged it, almost stumbling after the second punch. By the time the third punch came, she used her wrist to block it, gritting her teeth as she winced in pain. Yang smiled as she tried to go for another swing, but Ruby managed to sidestep just in time. Suddenly, the blonde brawler delivered a roundhouse kick, successfully knocking her to the ground once again. Fury overcame Ruby as she got back up and started punching rapidly. Yang simply weaved in and out of them. She soon jumped high in the air and landed behind Ruby, striking her in the back. Yang smiled wickedly as she began charging towards Ruby, about to deliver a downward right hook. Fearing for her life, Ruby suddenly fled into the bushes. The speed was so fast that Yang could barely see her, only noticing a trail of rose petals scattered on the ground  

“I gotta say, that was pretty cool!” she cheered. “Though you can’t always run away from your problems. Sometimes you have to take them head on and fight no matter what.” The air was strangely quiet and Yang didn’t hear a response. “Okay, Ruby. Enough rest. Come on, let’s go!” There was still no response and she was beginning to get worried. “Ruby?” She heard rustling in the bushes followed by a hideous snarl. Red eyes peered from inside the shrubbery and tore open to reveal a large bear-like monster. Its fur was jet black, a white skull-like mask covered its face and from its back were large, bone white spikes. Yang’s eyes widened with horror as she came face to face with a creature of Grimm. 

“What have you done with my sister?!” she demanded. The Grimm roared at her and raised its paw to strike. Yang, however, activated her weapon and her wristbands suddenly transformed into gauntlets. Propelling herself forward with a hidden gun mechanism, she landed two punches directly in the Grimm’s face, followed by an uppercut that exploded on impact. Enraged, the creature tossed Yang aside, sending her flying. However, she managed to quickly regain her footing and charged once again, cocking her gauntlets to deliver her assault. The Grimm lunged towards her, only to stagger backwards to a barrage of punches and gunshots. Red smoke covered the air as Yang was about to deliver the finishing blow, but Grimm would not give up so easily. With its claws raised high, it violently threw Yang  into several trees. Heavy bruises covered her arms, legs and face. As tough as she was, even she felt pain. From the bushes, Ruby could only watch in horror as the vile Grimm slowly approached her sister. 

“Yang, no!” she cried. Hearing this, the beast stopped and set its sight on Ruby. It gave a wicked roar and began to run towards her. Fear paralysed the young girl and she watched helplessly as the Grimm drew closer to her. Yang screamed as she tried to get up, trying to brave the unbearable pain. Panting heavily, Yang could feel powerful energy coursing through her body. Her usual lilac eyes suddenly turned a bright red and her hair became covered in flames. She yelled with furious anger and used her gauntlets to propel herself towards the Grimm. Without even a second to think, she unleashed a furious combination of punches, kicks and gunshots.. Finally, she delivered a devastating fist in the creature’s face, exploding with red light on impact. The creature fell and started to disintegrate until there was nothing left. Feeling exhausted, Yang collapsed to the ground. She won.

“Yang! Yang!” Ruby shouted as she rushed to her aid. “Are you okay?” Yang’s eyes stirred awake, seeing the look of relief and sorrow on her sister’s face.

“I’m fine Ru-” she was about to finish when she was interrupted by a strong hug. 

“I-I’m so sorry,” Ruby sobbed. “If I had my scythe, I could’ve killed that Ursa easily, and now you’re hurt because of me.”

“It’s okay,” the older girl responded, returning the hug. “You know I’ve always got your back. And don’t worry about my injuries, it’s nothing that a little aura can’t fix. I’ll be right as rain in a few hours.” She wiped the tears off her sister’s face as she staggered back up. Both girls decided to call it a day and headed back inside, with Ruby carrying Yang on her shoulder and mumbling about how heavy she was along the way. 

* * *

That evening, while Yang was on bedrest, Ruby snuck out of the house through her bedroom window and headed back into the forest. In her hands, she carried a bouquet of white roses and from the back of her belt, a compact mechanical device that was black and red in colour. From a gap in the trees, she could see her destination, a cliffside with a small headstone. As she approached the headstone, a sad smile crossed her face. A symbol of a rose was engraved on it, with the words Summer Rose, Thus, I kindly scatter, written underneath. Ruby placed the roses near the stone as small tears fell from her eyes. 

“Hey there mom,” she whispered. “Today’s been pretty intense. Yang and I have been training a lot and she’s going to Beacon in a week’s time. How cool is that?” Silence fell across the atmosphere. “I miss you mom,” she said through her sobbing. “I wish you were here to help me out. I messed up today and because of that, Yang got hurt.” More tears started falling. “I don’t ever want to feel that helpless again, and I promise that I will become stronger and make you proud. You, dad, and Yang.” Wiping her tears, she decided to take her leave. By the time she headed back into the forest, it was already night, with the only source of light being the shattered moon. As Ruby left the forest and came across an open field, she suddenly heard snarling and growling. From out of nowhere, several wolf-like creatures began to surround the area. Like the Ursa, they too had jet black fur with bone spikes from their backs. White masks also covered their faces and their red eyes glowed fiercely. 

“Beowolves.” she gulped as she removed the device from behind her belt. Three of them spotted Ruby and lunged towards her. However, she was quicker and leaped into the air. Pressing a button from the left side, the device began to transform, shifting into a medium-length rifle. Taking aim, she fired and the shots found their mark, leaving gaping holes in Beowolves’ bodies. Two more Beowolves circled around her, raising their claws for the attack. Quickly, Ruby activated another switch, causing the rifle to unfold into a large scythe, and in one swift movement, cut them in half. More of the pack began to charge forward, causing Ruby to slam the front of her scythe into the ground. Taking out what appeared to be a red magazine, she loaded it into the chamber and took aim at the beasts. Pulling the trigger, the bullets fired from the top of the scythe, felling the Beowolves one by one. The rest of the pack began to pick up speed and promptly slashed their claws at the red reaper. Luckily, she managed to dodge just in time, pulling out her scythe in the process. As the pack drew near, Ruby ran forwards and twirled the scythe in her hands, slicing the Grimm with deadly grace. But the survivors were relentless and roared at their prey. More Beowolves started to gather and had her surrounded. Ruby had no way of escaping and step by step, they moved closer, claws and fangs ready to tear her apart. She started to pant heavily, her hands were shaking, and she almost fell to the ground. The Beowolves’ lips twisted into devious smiles as they bared their ugly fangs. 

“N-no.” Ruby rasped. “This isn’t going to end like this.” Regaining her composure, she stood firmly on the ground and readied her weapon. Her eyes stared angrily at the monsters and she too bared her teeth. 

“I. AM. NOT. WEAK!” she screamed. In a burst of speed, she launched herself towards them, slicing and slashing viciously one by one. Body parts were flung across the fields and when she reached the last one, Ruby placed the scythe behind its head and decapitated it in one swift, clean motion. 

Tired from her ordeal, Ruby looked back just in time to see the remains start to disintegrate. From the trees, she could see a small crow shifting its head towards the left side of the forest, as if it was directing her. With a small smile, Ruby folded her weapon and placed her hood back on, making her way back to the comfort of home.

[danurso]

Monster AU Part 1

(Got this idea stuck on my head for a while now, just taking it out of my system)

“Miss...are you sure about this?” The guard asked again, it was the third time he asked that, but judging by the situation none of them could blame him.

“Yes, we’re sure.” Weiss spoke firmly, not letting her voice quiver even in that situation.

“We don’t have other choice, we need to do this.” Blake followed in her calm tone, but no matter how calm she sounded it for sure didn’t matched how she was feeling right now.

“Just give us a few minutes and come back to take us out.” Ruby’s tone was composed, even if they could feel the fear slipping a bit from her voice.

The guard sighed in defeat and pressed an code, opening a thick steel door of the most secure cell prison known by man. “I have no idea of why you misses are doing this, but if something happens to you inside there, i won’t be able to do anything.” The guard said and the four girls nodded.

“This won’t take long.” Yang said, in no better state then the rest of her team, while she was trying to sound calm, the guard could feel how nervous she was, just like her friends.

“Okay, but please be careful, and try not to anger him, if he attack you, we won’t be able to help” the guard said as the girls followed inside the gray cell.

Even though they were in atlas the color scheme of the cell didn’t matched the environment of the white and blue city, the cell was a dark gray tone thanks to everything being made by thick plates of aura reinforced steel, this cell was just like a safe, just way stronger than a normal one. some might think that this was way too much security just to keep one prisoner, but if they knew who this person is or once was, they would understand why all the measures.

“Hehehe, i wasn’t expecting visits.” The distorted voice filled their ears making them shiver, it sounded like two peoples talking at the same time, just that one of them wasn’t human. They looked ahead at the creature stuck in the wall with a steel straight jacket and several steel bars holding his body and his legs. There he was, the twisted reflection of the man they once considered as family, as friend and probably way more then just that.

“It's been a while girls.” His distorted voice filled their ears again, with a wide smirk spreading on his pale lips.

The red reaper gulped visibly. “Jaune…” yes, this creature was once jaune arc, but just a simple glance at his skin, pale as the moonlight just like his hair, and his eyes that once had a heartwarming blue coloration, but now glimmered red like fresh blood and were always surrounded by an black coloration just as dark as the night, would prove anyone wrong.

“Yes rosebud, what can i do for you?” Sarcasm dripped from his words, it was unsettling to say the very least.

“We...need your help.” ruby’s voice kept firm, just not as much as she would’ve liked.

“Help?” He raised an mocking eyebrow “and what do you need my help with rosebud?” He asked sarcastically, not really interested in the answer.

“We’re going into the dark lands, and we need someone to guide us into a specific place and that can keep other grimms away.” Weiss explained anyways.

“We know you have the knowledge to get through the dark lands safely and that you can repel some kinds of grimms.” blake added.

His smirk grew a bit before he spoke up. “After two months without visiting your dear friend, you’re here to ask my help? I feel really offended.” He said, that same sarcasm dripping from his words once more.

“We wouldn’t ask for your help if we didn’t needed it.” Yang replied sharply but shivered when his gaze landed on her.

“Now thats really mean coming from you sunshine, i thought we were friends.” He said.

“Jaune arc was our friend, you’re not him.” She shot back.

He tilted his head slightly to the side. “What do you mean sunshine? I’m still jaune arc, just now im better than i was before, don’t you agree?” an simple ‘no’ was his answer, said answer that proped a short chuckle from him.

“General ironwood and the council decided to get rid of you, so you have only two choices, you can let the army kill you or you can help us and we will keep you alive, as long as you’re helping us in the missions.” She said firmly, her silver eyes filled with determination. “But if you betray us, i’ll have to get rid of you myself.” Ruby said mustering a cold edge that was new to him.

“hehe...hehehehe...GHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” his maniacal laughter filled the cell room as the girls stared at him with a mix of fear and confusion. “these are such big words coming from you rosebud, but we all know you can’t do that.”

Ruby flinched, but curled her hands into fists and spoke up at him. “Yes i can.” She stated.

“Really?” This time his voice wasn’t only filled by sarcasm, it now had a way somber tone as well. “We’ll see about that.”

With that statement they started to hear the sound of metal being contorted and cracking, the locks of the steel bars holding his legs and his body started to crack, eventually giving in and breaking allowing him to walk freely, just to break free from the straightjacket right after and stop in front of ruby, holding her face towards him gently but firmly with his pale and cold hand. “go on rosebud, kill me, do as you say and take away my life.”

The red reaper was frozen on her place, unable to move just like her friends, none of them had their weapons at the moment, all they could do for now is watch in terror the scene unfold in front of them.

“What are you waiting for rosebud?” He whispered, slowly dragging his hand down until her neck. “I could kill you right now if i wanted, why won’t you kill me?”

Ruby stood in silence, sweating profusely thanks to her actual position.

“You can’t do it right?” He asked, not really expecting an answer, so he got closer, whispering in her ear. “Of course, you can’t really kill the guy who was your first friend of beacon can you?”

She just looked down, clenching her fists in frustration while he stepped back and took an good look at all the girls, his smirk grew wider. “You’re all making his really hard to me, i can smell your fear, your sadness and all these negative emotions.” His eyes filled with hunger as he stared at them. “they make me feel so hungry i could easily devour each one of you.” he stepped closer making them back away. “Just imagining your faces as i tear your bodies apart and taste your delicious looking flesh makes me shiver.” He said licking his lips.

The girls backed away until their backs hit the wall, the creature slowly making his way to them, until stopping in front of yang. “Four different girls, i'm sure i could get a extremely good meal out of you.” He pressed yang against the wall, opening his mouth and readied himself to sink his teeth on her neck, but stopped before making direct contact, retreating right after. “That, if i could kill any of you of course.”

At his sudden declaration, the girls started to look at him in confusion and curiosity as he backed away from yang, he gave them that sinister grin once more as his eyes wandered between the girls. “what? Surprised? You shouldn’t be.”

“You can’t kill us?” Ruby asked uncertain.

“No, even though i would love to taste your flesh.” the grimm licked his lips one more staring at them.

“And why you can’t kill us?” Weiss question followed, even though she wasn’t really sure if she wanted a answer, her curiosity was stronger then her.

“Because i love you.” His answer was short, simple and direct to the point.

The four girls were shocked with the statement to say the very least, and so, a confused yang said. “You...what?”

“I love you, is that simple.” He stated. “We traveled around the world for seven long years, and during that time i got to know each one of you way better than i ever imagined, of course, as the coward i used to be i decided to stay quiet, why would four amazing girls have any interest in someone like me, and even after our first encounter with salem, the day when she killed ren and nora, threw me on that pit and turned me into what i am today, i still feel these emotions, these fragments inside me, why do you think you managed to capture me five months ago?” he chuckled darkly and followed before any answer from them could come out. “I let you capture me, because if our fight went on, i would kill you and that thing i used to call a heart would be lost forever to me.”

The previous shock of the girls only seemed to further with his words, of course, after all this years living together and fighting together the girls came to see jaune as a precious friend, maybe even more than that, but they never actually thought that jaune could feel something like that for them.

“My emotions were lost to me a long time ago, except for this one, the ‘love’ i feel for you won’t die no matter how hard i try, and so i have an proposal for you” his lips curled once more into a wide dark smirk. “From now on, i’ll help on your missions, i’ll lend you my strength, my powers and all my knowledge for whatever you want, but…” he stepped closer, sliding his cold and pale finger over their cheeks making the girls shiver slightly. “only if you all accept to be mine.”

His words were both shocking and confusing, but he didn’t sounded like he was kidding in the slightest. “And what do you mean with that?” weiss words kept firm, even being target of his oppressive gaze.

He released a low dark chuckle. “I mean that your lives will belong to me, and i that i will do whatever i want with you, seems reasonable don’t you think?” he said simply, the girls tried to raise a voice to speak but a pitch black aura and a psychotic look from him stopped them. “It would be far too easy to claim you all here, you don’t have any weapons or any dust, in this small space ruby and weiss’ semblances would be useless, blake’s semblance isn’t fit for combat and even if yang could give some work it still wouldn’t be hard to take her down either, by the end of it you would all be weakened helpless since the guards wouldn’t want to risk their lives and this base just to save four girls.” He stated with a large smirk.

The girls were frozen, covered in cold sweat staring at him terrified, his aura vanished and he turned around with a shrug. “but of course i can’t do that, this ‘love’ won’t allow me to do it, and so i am making you this offer, give me your lives and i’ll be at your services.” he turned to them once more and extended his pale hand. “Do we have a deal?” he didn’t even tried to conceal the malice in his voice, staring at them with a devious grin.

The girls could only look between themselves for a moment, what this creature was offering was literally a deal with the devil, they would need to hand him their very souls for him to use them in the way he saw more fit inside that sick mind, in other times they would’ve refused the offer in a heartbeat, but the war is getting worse, having someone like the grimm jaune on their side would make a huge difference, and could even turn the tables at their favor, but at a great cost.

Ruby put the matter to a thought, and, understanding the unsaid message from her teammates, she swallowed hard and gripped the grimm’s hand. “Deal.” She said.

Her words made his grin widen. “Good choice rosebud, you’re not going to regret it.” His voice had the same ironic tone as before.

Still uncertain, ruby spoke up. “And how can we be sure you’re not going to betray us?”

“Have you forgot already rosebud?” He let go of her hand, still staring at them with a wide grin. “An arc never goes back on his word.”

-----

After everything was decided, the four girls leaved the cell to speak with the general, leaving the grimm back on his own, chuckling darkly to himself. “are you going to stare at me like this all day?” The grimm raised his head from his sitting position and met his scarlet eyes with the marine blue ones of a vision that was once himself.

“no” he replied with a small smile. “I'm just glad that you decided to help them.” He added.

“Im not helping them.” He grinned at him. “I'm helping myself.”

“Maybe, but maybe not.” His reflection said casually in a calm tone. “You know you care about them.”

“I'm a grimm, i don’t care about anyone.” He let out a somber chuckle. “But i will say i like seeing their reactions whenever i threaten them.”

His reflection chuckled and gave him a small smile. “You try to act tough, you act like a monster because you think you’re one, but you’re more human than you imagine.”

“Heh, i'm a grimm, i act like a monster because i am a monster, and i'm not human anymore, if i were i would still be a weakling like you.” The grimm stated glaring with a smirk at his reflection.

“Keep thinking like this, in the end you’ll understand what i mean, and yeah, my time is over and you’re in control now, but that doesn’t mean you’re not jaune arc anymore right?” His words were soft and gentle, carrying an truth that the grimm knew all too well.

“I am jaune arc, just much better than the pathetic guy you used to be.” his words aimed directly to the pride of his reflection, but they didn’t do anything to him.

“You’re right, you’re way stronger than i used to be, but you’re still jaune arc, and despite what they might think, i know you’re always going to protect them, afterall, that's what we’re supposed to do right?” The honesty in his voice was sickening for the grimm.

“Yeah…” he raised his arm, a dark aura surrounded it as it grew bigger, the pale skin of his arm was covered by a darker tone as his fingers elongated and sharpened forming deadly claws and slashing the reflection, denting the thick wall and leaving the mark of the claws on it. He chuckled darkly as his arm slowly came back to its original appearance, he stared with a maniac look at the empty spot where his reflection was before and widened his unsettling smirk. “...we’ll see about that.”

[redrobinfection]

Tim the Drake, Pt 8

<< Part 7

Days passed, but Jason didn't change back. Bruce freaked out, of course, and called every magic user he knew. Most couldn't make it out to look at Jason, but the few who did only shook their heads and said they couldn't get involved.

The only person to say more than that was Zatana, who smirked when she looked over Jason and told them that she knew what it was - and was sure all the other magic users had known too - but wouldn't do anything. The distinction wasn't lost on Bruce and he all but raged to know why. Zatana merely answered that the issue would work itself out in time and that everything would "work out for the best" before poofing away.

Another week passed without any breakthroughs. Bruce called Zatana again, begging for anything, even a hint. The reply she sent back simply read: "What do you do with a man-turned-amphibian?" After that Bruce gave up on Zatana and turned his energy toward bringing in Dr. Fate to look at Jason.

In the meantime the boys had set up a "Toad Duty" rotation. Alfred looked after the vulnerable toad during the daytime, but someone had to sit with him at nights during patrol, and another person had to keep him in their room while everyone slept.

At first Dick took on all of those duties by himself, fearful for Jason's health and safety if he left him in the clutches of Tim, or worse, Damian, but after a few days, Dami and Tim managed to convince him that their thirst for revenge had waned enough to be trusted with their amphibian brother. These days, Dick and Damian rotated who would stay home from patrol, while Tim hogged Jason in his room every night. Tim had even set up a tank in his room - a move Dick originally interpreted as a form of revenge until he observed the care and attention Tim had given to procuring bedding, food, and an environment tailored to making a toad comfortable.

Tim tried to confide in Dick that a large part of his desire to care for Jason the toad was motivated by guilt. They had suspected that the mage could read minds, so Tim blamed himself for thinking in the moment that Jason was more akin to a toad than to a todde - the old English for fox - under the assumption that that had encouraged the mage to make the switch.

However, in Dick's mind, the greater part of Tim's desire to care for Jason stemmed from his actual care for the man. The two of them had been cautious friends before all of this, and now Dick was sure that once this had all blown over, they'd be closer than ever. These days they were inseparable, whenever Tim was at home Jason was right there beside him - riding on his shoulder through the manor, sitting on his propped up knee while they watched a movie, even sitting on Tim's head while he typed up reports.

Exactly one month to the night Jason had transformed, they all congregated in the cave and waited, hoping this would finally be the moment he would change back. Jason sat in the middle of the worktable while everyone - Stephanie, Babs, and Alfred included - watched. 3:47 AM came and went, but no transformation occurred. Bruce looked as if he was torn between wanting to cry or tear his hair out.

"What was that hint Zatana gave us? 'What do you do with a man-turned-amphibian'?" Dick mused. Tim's face lit up suddenly.

"Man-turned… the Frog Prince!"

Everyone turned to him incredulously. "What?"

Tim looked each person in the eye one at a time and slowly explained his revelation. "Zatana was referring to the Grimm's fairy tale, the one about the man who was turned into a frog and then changed back by a princess."

"So we have to throw him against a wall?"[2] Damian asked incredulously at the same time Steph blurted out "I am not kissing that thing." They looked at each other in confusion and Dick let out a weary laugh.

"Damian, I don't know which version of the fairy tale you're familiar with, but in this country the story is about a princess that kisses a frog and turns him into a handsome prince," he explained.

Everyone turned aghast to Jason, who let out a sad series of peeps then turned to hop off the table in defeat. Tim caught him in mid-jump.

"He is not 'that thing', Steph. Jason is a person," Tim reminded them firmly. "And you," he went on, giving the toad a little shake. "Don't go giving up on yourself so easily."

Tim glanced around the room, scanning each face briefly before his own set in determination. "If no one else can bring themselves to do what it takes, then I'll do it," he declared. He leaned in and kissed the amphibian on the top of his head before anyone could stop him.

A cloud of orange smoke and the overwhelming scent of maple syrup flooded over them, and when it cleared, there stood Jason, freshly transformed, except…

Tim crouched down beside Jason the fox in wonder and reached out a hesitant hand to stroke the fur on his head. "He…a fox… it was a transformation inside of a transformation? It's like a function within a function… or a loop within a loop? We satisfied the exit condition and left the inner loop, but how do we exit the outer one? 'DO fox WHILE…' what?" he rambled in shock.

"Drake, stop babbling in computer terms," Damian snapped. "Clearly we've underestimated this magic user and-where are you going?!"

Tim had pulled up his cowl and jogged over to his bike before the family could intercept. Bruce ran for the security lock to seal the Cave, but Tim mounted and peeled out of the cave, without a word, before B had taken even three steps. It only took a look passed between the rest of them before everyone was hopping onto bikes and piling into cars to chase after him.

~*~

Part 9 >>

[2] Yes, in some of the early versions of the story, apparently the curse was broken when the frog was hurled against a wall. Ouch. https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Frog_Prince#Plot

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