#(simultaneously screwing up his character)

[m4rs-ex3]

do not be mistaken i am not a hardcore mileven shipper i am a HYPOTHETICAL hardcore mileven shipper in the HYPOTHETICAL that they were not mishandled at every turn🤗

[go-fornicate-yourself]

Every day I am in the trenches fighting for my life defending this poor man. He was going through so much and people online demonize him and say he's as bad as his abuser

(I've got a lot of thoughts about this so I'll make sure to separate things to make it easier to look at lol)

Curly is a victim of abuse. Jimmy is his abuser. This is something that I feel a lot of people tend to brush over or don't acknowledge it often.

And I'm not just talking about post-crash. Jimmy's abuse of Curly is there pre-crash too. The party scene where the crew learns about the company going under is a huge example of this. Jimmy verbally abuses him, he gaslights him, he blames him for their (his) misfortune. Jimmy accuses Curly of thinking he's better than everyone (better than him), that he doesn't care about them (about him). That he's going leave them (leave him). Which is not true. Curly tries to explain himself but Jimmy shuts him down and he just takes it.

The fact that he just allows this to happen makes it seem like he's used to this... That this kind of behavior is a recurring thing with Jimmy. And the fact that nobody else tries to defend him or stands up to Jimmy just normalizes it for him. When Anya tells Curly what Jimmy did it catches him off guard. Bc he genuinely didn't think that his friend was capable of that. It wasn't something that was obvious to him. There were absolutely many red flags in the past but they were subtle enough for him to not see them bc he cares for Jimmy, he trusts him. Jimmy's the only one he feels he can open up to, who he can let his guard down with. Jimmy's his home. That's how close they are.

Because of this deep love for his friend and the subtlety of Jimmy's cruelty, he doesn't see the constant verbal and emotional abuse as what it is: abuse. Which is why he finds Jimmy's abuse towards Anya so shocking and jarring.

He isn't a man covering for his rapist friend bc of the 'bro code'. It does look like that from a certain angle and it's understandable why people see it that way but that's not what his character is really about as much as it makes sense otherwise.

He's essentially a battered housewife who's still in love with her husband but is realizing for the first time that the man she loves is a monster. That the man she loves and devoted her life to has been hurting her this whole time and she didn't even realize it. That the man she loves and spent so much of her life caring for has gone and hurt someone else. That he's most likely hurt others before and she's been utterly unaware of it the entire time she defended him and made excuses for him when he wasn't the best or the fairest or the most responsible or when he screwed up yet again solely bc of how much she loved and cared for him.

And Curly barely had any time to process ANY of that before Jimmy decided to try and kill them all to avoid the consequences of his actions. It was ultimately a selfish act even if he thought he wasn't just doing it for himself. Jimmy is selfish and needs to be in control or he loses it. He cares for Curly. He loves him. Curly's done so much for him. Curly's the only one who understands him, who doesn't hate him. Curly's his home. He resents how 'successful' he is but that's only bc he thinks so highly of him. He constantly puts himself down and put Curly on a pedestal and worships him while simultaneously mistreating him.

He treats his best friend like shit, he's awful to him. But he's not aware that this is the case or maybe he's in denial about it. He can't or just refuses to see how he's doing all of what he does for himself in the end. He justifies his attempt to kill them all (to himself and to Curly) by claiming he's doing this for them both. That if they were to get back to earth it would all be Curly's fault, that it'll ruin his life and career... despite the fact he had basically nothing to do with Anya's abuse. Jimmy's shifting the blame on him while acting like he cares for him. Well, he does genuinely care for him but clearly not nearly enough to not mistreat him or use him as a scapegoat for his own guilt.

Jimmy is the rapist, Jimmy is the one who does all of these horrible things. And yet it's highly likely that Curly would just blame all of it on himself bc that's exactly what Jimmy did to him. He's in so deep he can't see the facts of the situation.

It takes abuse victims so long to come to terms with their abuse. It takes time and reflection to see things with an unbiased and healthy perspective. Abuse (especially years of it) isn't just something you can just escape. It consumes you and can twist your reality. Curly had about a week or less to process all of it and then take action in a way that protected his crew and abided by Pony Express' guidelines. Dealing with something this serious in a setting that makes resolving it extremely difficult in a practical sense is already hard.

There were no locks on any of the doors except for medical and the cockpit. They couldn't just kill him. There was nowhere they could detain Jimmy that wouldn't involve corporate potentially penalizing the entire group. They could have used the cryopods but then there'd only be three available for any actual emergency and there were already five crew members and four pods in total. Also, I doubt corporate would be 'okay' with them using the cryopods for anything other than their intended purpose. Hell, even if they were able to make it back to earth without any incidents there's a good chance that corporate would consider the situation 'poor team synergy' and collectively punish the entire crew for Jimmy's actions.

So on top of having to deal with an already difficult situation, Curly has to grapple with the realization that Jimmy a: abused Anya, b: has been abusing him as well (for a very long time too), and c: has probably abused others before Anya and he had no idea about it. He needed to act but he didn't and it doomed all of them.

But it's so unrealistic (maybe even cruel) to put that much pressure on someone, force them through an utterly earth-shattering realization, and then expect them to do the correct/right/responsible thing in that moment. It's a little ironic how people vilify him for that when other characters do the same thing that nobody blames for it.

Anya is the ship's nurse. Curly is the ship's captain. They both have duties and responsibilities on board the Tulpar. She has to keep the crew healthy and safe and is the only one with enough medical knowledge to do so. He has to make sure that everything goes well and goes according to procedure. He's responsible for the crew, the cargo, and even the ship itself. Both positions are integral and require a lot of responsibility to do properly

They're both put through distressing and traumatic situations where due to them being human people with emotions and fears that make them essentially avoid their responsibility/doing what's required of them.

Curly has a freeze response and doesn't act when he should have when it was crucial to have done so. Anya has a fawn response and essentially puts her patient in danger and harm's way. She knew full well what Jimmy was capable of. She experienced it herself and she witnessed it happening to Curly as well. And yet she allows Jimmy to be alone with Curly while being fully aware of how dangerous he is. Which she shouldn't have, that wasn't the 'right' thing to do. Keeping him safe was her responsibility.

But Anya's human. She's going through a lot at the moment. She's terrified of Jimmy and she's trying to appease him so he doesn't hurt her again. It's a natural very understandable thing to do even if it's not the 'right' or 'responsible' thing. They failed each other when they needed each other most and I think that's the most tragic part of it. If anything, all of them failed each other in some way, shape, or form.

So it's incredibly frustrating to see people give Anya so much sympathy and grace for doing something so human yet still 'wrong' but then turn around and give Curly none of that for doing essentially the same thing she does.

I don't know for sure if it's actually because Curly is a man or if it's only part of it or maybe some people just lack that sense of awareness but it's depressing and frustrating as fuck as a male victim of sexual violence and abuse to see this kind of behavior and this much victim blaming towards a character who is undeniably a victim of abuse like I am.

[coralinnii]

Congrats for reaching 2.7k followers !! Do you think you could do either Silver or Sebek (or both if it’s not too much >_<) for the Villain/ess AU? Again, congrats!!!🎉🍾🎈🎊

‧₊˚✧Being Reincarnated into a New World as the Bad Guy‧₊˚✧

↳ villain/ess au series

feat: Silver ❋ Sebek genre: enemies(?)-to-something more Silver ver, comrades-to-something more Sebek ver., slow burn romance,  note: no pronouns used, prejudice against humans, reader is a fae in Silver ver., reader is a human in Sebek vers., Sebek’s reader is just done with Lilia’s shenanigans, set in the same universe as Malleus' and Lilia's ver. but not necessarily simultaneously,

Villain/ess au masterlist 2.7k followers writing event

If you look past the whole…absurdity that is being reincarnated into a dating simulation of your previous world, you'd say you hit the jackpot here.

You suddenly found yourself as a minor antagonist who was supposed to be love obstacle to one of the popular targets of the game, the venerable Dragon Fae King Malleus Draconia. As such, you became a stereotypically beautiful but unbelievably vain fae character of high social standing, an antithesis to the lovable and modest main protagonist. 

The heroine can have the dragon king, you thought. You’ll just dab away your tears while you bathe in luxury.

If you could have one complaint…it would probably be your “original” personality. 

You and your family were infamous for their stance against mixing with humans. Coming from a long line of pure fae blood, your original character held hostility over “pathetic parasites leeching off the purity of the faes.” 

Oooff, what a piece of work you apparently were. 

It was this prejudice that your family demanded the engagement between you and Malleus, and the reason for the vicious treatment of the main heroine…which inevitably led to the loss of your golden spoon, and imprisonment of you and your family. 

Oh, screw that! Absolutely not! 

Thus began the start of your total image revamp. You were going to prove that you definitely won’t be an obstacle for the unity of human-fae harmony, or if the dragon king were to suddenly bring a human as his consort-to-be. 

But sadly it was easier said than done. 

“What is that person doing here?” 

The patrolling knights whispered to themselves as they narrowed their gaze towards your back. Their searing glares felt burning to your very being, but you smiled through it as you carried a large basket of goodies.

“I wish to do my part as a noble and help sponsor this orphanage, and I brought some sandwiches if the children would like some.” 

“Hah! Do you even realize what kind of orphanage this is?” One of the knights sneered at you. This was one of the few shelters that was willing to house human children that turned up in the forest near the kingdom’s borders, often abandoned and left to perish if not for the Vanrouge family who founded this orphanage. 

Unfortunately, the duke family is its only sponsor as prejudice still runs strong in many noble families, yours included. 

“I’m aware, and I want to assist with the upkeep of this orphanage.” You asserted your stance. “I understand that the Vanrouge family is very busy so I volunteer my assistance since my manor is close.” 

Many of the knights aren’t convinced. They stood in the way of the orphanage as though they’re guarding from someone dangerous. Some tried to whisper stealthily amongst each other but your fae ears could pick up their words.

“This is probably a cruel trick.” “Maybe the food is poisoned.” “How terrible.” 

“If you gentlemen would like, you are free to try some of the sandwiches.” You offered kindly, but your smile was strained and your fingers tight around the basket’s handles. 

You expected this, but the building frustration and humiliation is hard to suppress. You knew your family’s reputation precedes you and their doubts are valid, but to suspect that you are some sort of monster who could harm children for simply being human? You would never, how could they…

“Thank you for such kindness, your grace.”

Your bitter spiral broke at the sound of a clear voice, strong but warm at the same time. A hand reached out to pick out a small sandwich, which your gaze followed to meet a pair of the most beautiful eyes you have ever seen. 

To the shock of the other knights, this man unhesitantly took a large bite of the handmade sandwich, then cleanly finished it in a few more bites. His auroral eyes shone with such warmness as he thanked you once more. “It was delicious.”

“Silver, careful!” The knight called out to the mysterious man before you. “You shouldn’t trust anything from that snake-“ 

“Hold your tongue, sir.” Despite showing nothing but kindness before, the fair-haired knight was quick to sternly reprimand his comrade before he turned to you to bow his head. “I apologize for my comrade’s rude behavior. I will accept any punishment in his stead.” 

Flustered, you replied quickly. “Please think nothing of it! I know of my family’s… notoriety, so I understand the suspicions you and your knights have.” 

“I’d rather judge someone by their actions rather than their family.” He smiled, and you swore your heart nearly stopped for a moment. What an unfairly beautiful man, you thought. 

Like a practiced knight, the beautiful man offered you a hand. “Allow me to carry the basket for you. The children will be excited to see a new face.” 

Wordlessly, you gave the basket to him and proceeded to walk towards the orphanage, ignoring the stunned faces of the speechless men, not that you cared to acknowledge them anymore. Afterall, your attention has been stolen by this mysterious man next to you. 

You were surprised how such a handsome and kind man liked him to show up. The way the other knights were quick to obey him, he was probably of higher standing or reputation. From his visuals to his manners, you thought he was definitely target route material. So, what was he doing as a minor NPC? 

“What was his name? Silver? Was there a character like him in the main story?” You racked your brain for an answer. Surely a catch like him wouldn’t be left in the sidelines, unless…

As though one of Malleus’ lightning struck you, your body broke out in cold sweat as you finally recognized the suspiciously attractive knight beside you. 

Silver, one of Malleus’ most trusted knights and the heroine’s closest friend in Malleus’ route. Believed to hold unrequited love for the protagonist, he swore to protect her, and eventually helped to capture and prosecute the love rival’s family for their wrongdoings. 

In short, this good-looking man will be responsible for sending you to jail for bullying his one-sided love.  

Oh, fu-

Was this punishment for making fun of your friend for liking this dumb dating sim game? If it was, this is a bit much, isn’t it? The muscles in your body screamed for mercy as day after day, you were put through hellish training, stared down by an unmoving commander.

You vaguely remembered the plot of the story, but couldn’t figure out who you were, or if you were of any significance to the plot. For all you know, you were some human soldier for the fae kingdom, currently going through hell.

As a commoner human amongst fae, you were treated with jeers and insults from your so-called comrades. Some of your peers were more affable but there were some poorly made characters clearly just there to make your life miserable.

“Is this my villain arc? Is that it?” But you were barely above it all, since the soldier’s pay was decent, and all the school-ground taunts were easy to ignore. Honestly, there was only one person that really grinds your gears. 

“You are insulting Lord Malleus’ great name if this is all you can do!” 

That loud voice, now unmistakable to you, belonged to the obnoxious soldier Sebek Zigvolt who seems to live off proving his worth to the king of this kingdom. 

“The goal was to do 100 push-ups, and that’s what I did.” 

“Hah, that is mere child-play. I can go on for a hundred more!” If you have to give him something, he puts his money where his mouth is as the green-haired man then proceeded to continue on with the workout. 

Be it a cruel joke or karma from your past life, you became partners with this loudmouth half-fae. The commander, Duke Vanrouge reasoned that it was to learn comradery and to balance each other’s flaws, but you suspect that there was more to it. But screw it, you don’t have the energy to pursue the real reason. 

And so, you were stuck in this partnership/rivalry with Malleus’ most loyal soldier. 

“We’re wasting time, weak human!” 

You should get a hearing check after this, as you were unfavorably close to your partner, who despite telling him to stay quiet, continues to scream right into your ear. 

“The course just started, you lousy crocodile.” You sighed as you knew Sebek wasn’t happy when you forced him to hide in the large grass. 

As a surprise, your division was given a training course with color-coordinated powder pellets and painted rubber blades as ammo. The goal was to find and strike as many painted targets in the forest, with you and the other soldiers included as targets. 

In addition to the stationary targets, it meant that you had to look out for other soldiers to target you for points. Fair enough, but while the instructions were straightforward, the one who devised this course was the Duke Vanrouge. 

“I don’t trust a single thing that old fart comes up with.” You mumbled as you surveyed the scene. You expected traps, decoys, even surprise bears to jump up out of the blue, because anything is possible with the eccentric former general. 

Then, a rustle from afar. 

Before you could react, Sebek was quicker as he wrapped his arm from behind you, pushing you down with him as a pellet burst with colored powder above you. You heard cursing and more rustling from a close distance. 

“Watch your surroundings, human!” Your green-haired yelled at you, as he effortlessly pulled you to your feet. The way he scanned your person, you almost made the mistake to think he was worried about you and you almost felt warm over that non-existent concern. 

Both of you perked up to the sound of footsteps and turned to another pair of soldiers in front of you. To your luck, there were some of the soldiers that often taunted you. 

“Hah, it’s the halfling and the leech.” The soldier sneered and started to run towards the two of you, using the course as an excuse for violence. 

“Hmph, you’re no match for me.” But before Sebek could charge, you pulled him back with all your strength. It causes the tall soldier to stumble back and lean onto you, your hands on his chest and waist. You didn’t take notice, but Sebek felt a startlingly warm sensation with his heightened senses feeling your closeness to his sturdy figure, his skin burning where your hands lay flat on him.

“W-What are you doing, human! How dare you-“ 

Yells interrupted Sebek’s embarrassed tirade as the two foolish soldiers disappeared, with a large hole in front of you and Sebek. Cautiously, you stepped towards the manmade hole to see your “comrades,” bruised but alive for the most part. 

“Pit traps… should have known that the commander would pull some looney tune crap.” Pulling out a few pellets, you threw it straight at the trapped men and dusted them with your color. “Man, that’s cathartic.” 

You turned to your partner, who was staring at the pit which he nearly ran straight into. You were worried that the prideful half-fae was actually scared before he scared you instead with revigored energy. 

“Of course, the great Lilia would challenge us to the fullest. I will not fail his faith in us!” He then sharply looked to you with a satisfied smirk. “Impressive, human. I commend your sharp eye, but I will not fall for such traps from now on!” 

“Pfft, what was I thinking he’d be scared?” You thought, chuckling to yourself. It just wasn’t Sebek to back out of a challenge regardless of how insane or stupid it was. This training course was no better than a paintball game, but the straightforward Sebek would give his all no matter what. 

“It’s almost cute.” Keeping that last tidbit to yourself, you started walking towards your partner. “Well, let’s keep going. Like you said, we’re wasting time.” 

[firefirefruit]

Steel in Her Veins, Chapter: Thirty-Eight

Read On: AO3 | Table of Contents | Next Chapter

Characters: Fem!Reader x Roronoa Zoro

Notes: I just graduated!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HOORAAAAYYY! I'm finally FREE NOW TO WRITE AS MUCH GOBBLEDUPFANFICSASIWANT AND IM SO HAPPY! SIHV is no longer under hiatus ;ppppp (not proofread properly as i was so excited to update everyone on this story hahahahdsjs)

Chapter Thirty-Eight: A Doctor’s Steady Hands

“Is it this one?”

I unhook my head from beneath a curved plane of metal, wiping the machine oil from my face with my sleeve. I examine the mishap of tools in Bepo’s paws, scrambling to keep them all hooked between his claws.

“Uh, yeah, that one,” I say, nodding at the screwdriver with the yellow handle. Bepo carefully flexes his cushioned paw to pluck one out from the other, then proceeds to stuff the rest of the tools – and the equipment box, mind you, in the front pocket of his overalls. 

Swiftly, I disappear under the side of what used to be Law’s beloved ship and begin to assess the damage. A soft curse comes out of my mouth, incredulously asking myself how Luffy could have damaged this beautiful piece so badly.

Sighing, I begin dismantling damaged parts with a hard-set scowl indented on my face – a scowl I haven’t been able to get of rid for about a week now. Gramps always used to tease me for being so transparent with my feelings, how I’d always wear my heart on my sleeve – and even thinking back on that memory doesn’t help with sobering up my mood, either.

I sneak a look at Bepo who’s looking incredibly out of place at the makeshift workshop we’ve made for ourselves. He looks down, staring down at his paws with a frown set on his face – almost as if he wants to ask me something but doesn’t know when the right time would be. Guilt pangs in my chest, knowing that Bepo doesn’t know what to do with how I am right now. It’s a pretty big personality shock to him, seeing how much I’ve changed compared from when I was a happy-go-lucky kid; a young tweenager with hope in her eyes, now turned young adult with angry fine lines peppered into her skin. It must have broken whatever pretence he had of me in his head. 

Regardless, he still showed up today. Hell, he even offered to be my little work assistant, completely aware of my recent bad temper - still willing to be there for me. It doesn’t help matters that I’m unhelpfully being gossiped about by Usopp to physically anyone he could talk to.

‘I don’t know, I’m kinda worried, ya know?’ Usopp mutters not-too-secretively in the bullseye centre of our temporary camp. ‘Ever since Zoro stormed out of that weird lake magic, they’ve both been acting off…’

‘And not to mention, ever since she turned into that scary Luffy form, she’s been so different,’ Usopp urges. ‘I don’t know if we can trust her from exploding into that-that… THING again. WAAA, I’M SCARED!’

Nami slaps him on the back of his neck, the sound ricocheting against the jagged stalactite ceiling as she eyes him down, anger in her eyes. ‘Oh, shut up, will you? Raya’s still Raya, and she’s one of us. Get that into that thick skull of yours.’

“Yo, Raya!” Franky’s voice echoes from a few miles ahead of me. His large body is somehow perfectly cramped beneath the belly of the Polar Tang, his fists slamming into the metal simultaneously as his head twists 180 degrees towards me. “We’re finally working together, huh? I can’t lie to you; it’s making me feel hella excited!”

I don’t know how he managed to do it, but a surprised laugh breaks out from my mouth; I didn’t know I meant so much to him, it almost makes me feel bad for not working with him sooner.

“Me too,” I say whilst my hands get busy removing each screw from the disfigured plane of metal. “I’m sorry we haven’t done this sooner, Frank.”

He rolls his eyes at me and bats a mechanical hand with a grease cloth clamped over it. “Are ya kidding me? You’ve been through hell and back, Raya. Take it easy. I’ve got an insane number of blueprints to work with you soon.”

I shake my head, turning back onto my partition of the work. He’s too forgiving, sometimes. Too carefree… I wish I was like that.

“Did I just imagine things?” A cool voice reverberates behind Bepo and I. “Did Raya’s face finally do something other than scowl?”

I twist my head so fast I hit my head against the ship, scowling at the figure who made me jump about eighty feet out of my own skin. Law looks down at me with a sly smile twitching at the ends of his mouth, his tattooed arms folded together against his chest.

“No, there it is again,” he continues. “That scowl. I must’ve imagined things.”

“C’mon Law, don’t tease her.” Bepo sighs.

Law turns to stare at his first mate, his mouth slightly ajar. He quickly closes it again, noticing I’ve been smirking at him like a kid who just got some well-deserved payback. “Well, you’ve never ordered me around before.”

I furiously rub at the sore spot on my head, still giving him a shit-eating grin, before my eyes lower to his clothes. Blue work overalls overlay a white shirt on his torso, a huge pocket resting at his belly. I raise a brow, not expecting anyone besides Franky and Bepo to be working with me today.

“Did I mess the memo? I didn’t know we were roleplaying as mechanics today.” My lips twitch into a faint smirk, making Law dismissively scowl at me.

“Well, I prefer to be around my possessions from now on. Since, you know, the last time I trusted you with one, you’d engaged with some more… interesting excursions,” he snaps.

That made me shut right up. I turn around and get busy, ignoring the heat growing on my face.

Bepo eyes the both of us with suspicion. “What? What was that supposed to mean? Law?”

Before Law can wave him off, another voice enters the workshop cavern with a tinge of irritation laced in his words.

“Oi, Trafalgar. Where you want me to put these?”

My heart instantly stops from hearing that cursed voice. I can just tell by his footsteps that they’re his. Fuck.

I don’t look around, pretend to be all cool and nonchalant while I’m actually screaming inside, but no one can excuse the fumbling my fingers are doing, my hand unable to unscrew a section I easily did a few moments ago.

Law faintly turns his head and side-eyes the samurai with a raised brow. “Why are you shouting, Roronoa? We can hear you just fine.”

I breathe in shallowly, feeling a minute sense of fear from his presence. My eyes train on the plane of metal above me, not daring to look in his direction.

‘You don’t scare me, Kozuki.’

You don’t scare me, Kozuki. It rings in my head constantly, even when my eyes grow heavy, my mind startled awake, in one of the dragon’s sleeping holes.

You don’t scare me, Kozuki. But you should be scared of me. I grit my teeth, jaw clenching then unclenching. That’s what he meant, right? He’s threatening me.

“You roped me into bein’ your work slave, this is what you’ll get,’ Zoro retorts, his eye piercing Law’s. Law only smirks in response and rests his frame against his tattered ship.

“No brain, only brawn. I’m not surprised,” Law smoothly bites back. I choke out a laugh, yet immediately shut up when I see Zoro’s eye drink in my crouched frame.

I quickly get back to work, my fingers deftly peeling off the unscrewed plane of metal. There’s an odd silence between all three of them, and I can just tell that Zoro’s still pinned his lion-like gaze on me.

“Are you just going to stare with your mouth wide open,” Law remarks, his feet suspiciously stationing themselves over my crouched body. “Or are you going pass those boxes to Frank?”

I hear Zoro bristle, seeming to be taken off guard. "You’re making things up," he grumbles, though the fluster in his voice betrays him. He finally shifts his gaze from me and turns his attention to the boxes at his feet, nudging one of them with his boot.

"Could've fooled me," Law replies, the smirk never leaving his face. There's a flicker of amusement in his eyes as he watches Zoro struggle to find a retort.

Zoro’s jaw tightens, and for a moment, it looks like he's about to snap back with something sharp. But instead, he just exhales heavily through his nose and lifts one of the boxes as if it's nothing. "Whatever. You could’ve picked someone else for this," he mutters, more to himself than anyone else.

As he starts walking towards Franky, I can't help but glance at him from the corner of my eye. There’s something different in the way he carries himself today, an edge to his movements that makes my heart pound just a bit faster. It’s not fear—not exactly. It's something else, something furiously too intimate to be just anger.

"Don't drop those, Roronoa. We don’t have spares," Law continues to mock, earning another jaw-tick from Zoro.

As his shadow becomes more and more smaller, I finally let out the strained breath I’ve been holding, my hands a little steadier now. But, still, the weight of his presence lingers, those same tan muscles my hands stroked over being a mere few steps away makes it harder to concentrate.

"Well, this is cozy," Law says, his voice low as he crouches down closely, his eyes flickering with mischief. "Maybe we should do this more often."

I shoot him a look, trying to suppress the small smile tugging at my lips. I skid the plane of damaged metal across the rocky floor, thrusting it with enough force to hit it against his thick-soled boot. "Don’t push it, Trafalgar," I mutter, though the corners of my mouth betray my nonchalance.

In all of a sudden, Bepo crouches next to Trafalgar and imploringly looks at me. “Look… Raya. Can we please talk?” He whispers, his eyes nervously shifting towards Franky’s direction to make sure he’s not paying attention. His gaze flickers over to Zoro, who finds purchase on a rocky crevice right in the centre of the workshop, his arms folding to his chest tensely, tanned muscle flexing. I watch him intently, realising that he looks to be asleep - almost as if he’s taken the perfect chance to doze off. A bit too much of a perfect chance, in my opinion.

I sigh, rubbing the raggedy cloth against my oil-stained cheek as I look away. I knew it, of course, that this conversation was inevitable. Bepo, knowing the entire truth – and Law, in direct extension – were both biding their time to gauge me out for more information.

I hand Bepo the screwdriver, silently gesturing for the small wrench that prods out of his belly-pocket. Impatiently, Law quickly picks it out and deposits it in my hand before Bepo even realises what’s happening.

I don’t know what comes over me but when I look, and really look at my childhood friend’s desperate eyes, I soften my tone.

“Of course, we can,” I mumble, my eyes lowering, avoiding his deeply troubled gaze.

“Keep working,” Law mutters lowly. His eyes train on Franky who once in a while looks over to compare his progress with mine. Zoro’s eyes are still closed, his breathing paced, but there’s still something suspicious about the way he’s holding himself too tensely for my liking.

I turn my head to the millions of nuts and bolts I’ll have to begin laboriously undoing, sighing inwardly. I love workmanship, but man, sometimes it can be boring.

“Keep talking, Bepo,” Law continues.

Bepo fiddles with his work shirt, looking down with a frown on his face. There’s a small beat of silence, the only sounds made are from Franky slicing a metal piece with his laser eyes, before Bepo looks back up at me.

“What happened, Raya?” He swallows, searching for the right way to word the questions that hungrily race through his head. He curses a little to himself. “G-god, that’s an open ended question, I know, but… so much has happened, and now you’re part of Luffy’s crew? Why was– well, Gramps targeted? And-and… what the hell did you transform into before?”

I pause, letting Bepo's questions hang in the air. My fingers keep working, twisting the small wrench, though my mind is racing faster than my hands. The questions he’s asked are the ones I’ve been dreading, but also the ones I knew I couldn’t avoid forever. They’re the kind of questions that dig deep, uncovering layers of the past that I’ve buried under years of anger, fear, and guilt.

I can feel Law's gaze on me, and I know he’s just as curious, though he’s better at hiding it. Franky seems to have disappeared in the pursuit of more materials in a different cavern, leaving a different type of silence, one more threatening, in his wake. Even Zoro’s steady breathing, despite his seemingly relaxed state, feels like a pressure pushing me towards answers I’m not sure I’m ready to give.

But Bepo deserves the truth. Maybe they all do.

I clear my throat softly, choosing my words with care. "It’s… a lot. Look, when I was a kid, I had no idea what was really going on; I just knew that every time the Cp-0 came knocking on our door, we had to relocate to a different island and build up our workshop again. Gramps… he knew things, had secrets that I didn’t understand back then that I think I’m slowly uncovering. He tried to protect me, but in the end… He got taken."

I can feel the weight of their attention, even though no one’s directly looking at me. Law’s quiet demeanour, Zoro’s stillness, Bepo’s concerned eyes—they’re all listening, even if they’re trying to be subtle about it.

“That’s the same thing that happened to-”

“Penguin, I see,” Bepo finishes Law sentence, his mouth pursed into a fuzzy, sombre line.

I nod, playing with my fingers. "As for why I’m with Luffy now… I didn’t plan it. I was trying to stay low, to avoid getting involved in anything that could draw attention to me. But things don’t always go as planned. Luffy… well, you know how he is. He promised me that we’d go finding Gramps if I did join him.”

Bepo looks like he’s putting all the pieces together, his eyes searching the tattered ship for answers. Distantly, his voice comes out, slightly uncertain.

“So, that’s why Law went to ask Luffy for an alliance.”

I nod again, not knowing what else to say.

Bepo nods, slowly, trying to process my words, but I can see he’s still deeply troubled. His gaze flickers to the metal I’m working on, then back to me. “But why the alias? Why are you hiding yourself from them?”

I grit my teeth, my eyes trained to a stray bolt, my sentences coming out in quick-paced bullet points. “I don’t want to be known by that name anymore. I hate it. What they don’t know won’t hurt them.”

Law quirks up a brow. “Quite the opposite, Raya. You know that could put them in danger, right? If they’re not prepared with what’s coming after you, it could be incredibly detrimental.”

I pause. He’s right, of course. I’ve been so focused on hiding, on keeping my past buried, that I hadn’t fully considered the consequences of keeping the truth from them.

I push that thought away and my resolve tightens. “You saw what I transformed into. I’ll keep the people coming after me at bay, without the crew even realising what went awry.”

“If you were part of my crew, I’d instantly throw you out,” Law coolly says, his torso shifting against the Polar Tang.

I let out a dry laugh. “Even if you tried to recruit me, I wouldn’t join you. Stay humble, doc.”

Law's expression remains neutral, but there's a glint in his eyes that shows he’s not entirely unaffected by my retort. He crosses his arms and leans back against the ship, seemingly unbothered, but I know him well enough to catch the subtle tension in his posture.

“You’re being obtuse, Raya. Not to mention incredibly selfish,” he bluntly states, not even trying to sugar-coat his words. “And if what Bepo’s told me about you is true, then that’s uncharacteristic of you. This'll affect everyone around you, exactly the way your Gramps had been. Taken, by a lifeless vessel, with two bulbous eyes.”

He leans in closer, his eyes now glinting more angrily, his voice lowering to a whisper. “At least your Gramps knew what he was getting into. He had a choice. And you, Raya, are not giving the same one to your crewmates.”

Fuck. Not once, but twice this asshole's statement rings true to me. If something were to happen, if the past I’ve been running from finally catches up to me, they could be caught off guard, unprepared for the shitstorm that I've happily brought along on board

I take a deep breath and meet Law’s eyes. “I never said I was a good person.”

Law's gaze hardens, Zoro’s body twitches, and for a moment, the air between us feels thick with tension. His eyes bore into mine, searching for something—maybe regret, maybe resolve. He doesn’t find either.

“I did some reading earlier,” Law breathes out coolly. “Of a person named Tyr. Tyr was ordinary. Incredibly so – mainly kept to himself, worked at a local mine, brought back food to his table without amiss. He didn’t have to work so hard, callous his hands day after day to scrounge up such measly coin to survive, but he did. He did it for his wife and two children, because he loved them so deeply, and he couldn’t see them suffer.

But that same Tyr also had no awareness of his lineage. Who he was didn’t concern him. He was a bastard’s child, no last name, his mother withered to dust during his childbirth. Until one day, a group of men dressed in black barged into his house and attempted to drag his wife and children away. You know what happened to that same old Tyr?”

I hold in a breath, not even daring to look at him. Even Zoro’s feigned equal breathing stops for a moment. I don’t respond, don’t even want to know about Tyr’s fate, but Law keeps on going.

“He turned into exactly what you are, Raya,” he says, his words quickening, tumbling out of his mouth with no regret. “And you know what he did?” Law leans in, his breath hitting my cheek coldly. “He was so consumed with his power, so lost in his own bottomless, consumed soul, he killed and tortured not only those men, but his two precious children and the wife that he adored more than anything.”

I can feel the blood draining from my face, the wrench slipping slightly in my grip – but Law keeps on going.

“So the thing about ‘Retribution’ is that you can be good. Dish it out to the deserved, change those who are able to be reformed. You can reign it in Raya,” he breathes out.

His eyes then darken, pinning me under his wrecked ship. “Or you can go off the rails. Go so off the rails, you’ll only be able to see red and red alone, and that power will quite certainly consume you, turn you, into the embodiment of Hell, just like good-natured, ordinary Tyr did. You’ll torture everyone, anyone, in sight, without even being aware of your own actions. Because all you will think about in that head of yours, echoing in every sick crevice, is of revenge, revenge, revenge. Pain, pain and even some more. So, if you don’t think you’re a good person now, what will you be when you transform?”

The silence that follows Law's words feels suffocating, like a heavy weight pressing down on my chest. Tyr. The image of him, once a loving family man, transformed into a monster by the same power that now courses through my veins, is impossible to shake. My hands begin to shake.

I can feel the pain in the air, not just from me but from everyone around. Bepo’s usually soft and comforting presence is tinged with anxiety, his paws fidgeting restlessly as he waits for me to respond.

And Zoro… my heart thumps harder, unable to swallow the lump in my throat as I catch his gaze. He isn’t even trying to feign sleep anymore. He stares at me, only steps away, his fingers itching as if to unsheathe his sword and plunge it into me.

Realisation floods into me, my skin prickling in shock as I turn from Zoro to Law. “You brought him here on purpose, didn’t you?” I whisper.

Law’s expression doesn't change, but the flicker of something in his eyes confirms my suspicion. He knew. He knew that Zoro would be here, that he would want to hear everything. A part of me wants to be furious, to lash out at him for orchestrating this, but another part—a deeper, quieter part—knows that this was inevitable. I just didn't want to face it.

Zoro’s gaze is piercing, unflinching, as he stares at me. The air between us is palpable, like a live wire crackling with trepidation. His hand hovers near his swords, and for a moment, I can’t tell if it's a reflex or a genuine threat. The thought chills me to the core.

You don’t scare me, Kozuki.

I know he’s not one to draw his blade without reason, but the way his eyes bore into mine makes it clear that he’s weighing every word, every movement, every breath.

You don’t scare me, Kozuki, but you sure as hell should be worried about me.

Law finally breaks the silence, his voice as calm and steady as ever, his fingers still remaining comfortable against his lap. As if seeing what was going through my head, he twitches his head behind to Zoro, and mutters out, “He didn’t know I was roping him into this, and neither did Bepo. If you want to lash out, do it to me. Not them.”

I swallow hard, the chill between us almost suffocating. My eyes flick between Bepo, Zoro, and Law, each of them representing different facets of my life—my past, my present, and the uncertain future that looms ahead. Law’s calm, calculating demeanour clashes with Zoro’s barely restrained fury, and Bepo’s concern only amplifies the weight of it all.

Zoro’s gaze pierces through me as those damned words echo through my head again, unyielding. ‘You don’t scare me, Kozuki.’

“What the fuck, Trafalgar,” Zoro suddenly manages to bite out, the veins in his hand flexing in tandem to his rushing thoughts.

“You deserved to know,” Law says, his gaze still stuck on me. “Out of your entire crew, you’re the one who’s least likely to be reckless with danger. And this time, that danger is Raya.”

“I listen to Luffy, and Luffy only.”

“Bullshit. Look at you - your hands are itching for a sword.”

Zoro grits down on his teeth, his gaze on me slightly wavering, almost as if he’s feeling a sense of guilt wash over him. My mouth slightly opens in surprise – maybe a little bit of betrayal surging through me as I understand Law’s statement rings true to him.

I bark out an incredulous laugh, looking at both men. Bepo seems to be in looking between Law and I, torn on whether to stand by his captain or his childhood friend.

“So, what, you’re going to kill me?” I bite out, my hand tightening so hard I feel the wrench tear into my skin. “Throw out the rotten fruit? Go on, I’d like to see you try.”

“No.” Law steps forward until he towers over me, dark eyes flickering down to my face. Zoro almost growls out seeing how close Law is, how our bodies almost touch but both of us are too busy to hear him.

As I release a breath, the wind slowly begins to pick up around me, as if challenging Law to fight. My hair flits upwards into the air with small embers of fire that seep through many miscellaneous strands of brown. My eyes remain on him, sizing him up, wondering how it would feel if I could just plunge this wrench into his chest and taste his blood.

My eyes widen slightly at my intrusive thoughts, shock paralysing me and rooting me to the floor. Never in my life have I…

Law only observes me with a curled down frown, his ink black hair whipping from the rising wind.

“It’s happening, isn’t it?” He murmurs lowly, lips pursed only ever so slightly. “You thought of something unsavoury.”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I rise my chin up at him.

He kisses his teeth and grabs my wrist, his tattooed fingers curling over my skin tightly, as if knowing I would try to slip out and run away. A blue light seep from beneath his finger pads, my tan skin consuming its colour like an incubus. A sound, almost faint, whirls around me; a feminine voice uttering out words in a language that was definitely not born from the grounds of earth.

“Don’t fuck with me, Raya. Stop it with the dumbass defiant act,” he warns, the light underneath his hand glowing with more colour.

“Then why don’t you be a lovely doctor and move your hands away,” I retort.

Zoro growls at Law with outrage and boulders his way past Bepo - who looks like he’s about to pass out – and grabs him by the same glowing wrist that lays on me.

“Take your fucking hands off her before I cut them off,” he murmurs lowly, his eyes slitted demonically.

Law, outraged, whips his head around at Zoro. “What do you think you-“

But it’s too late. The glow in Law’s hands and fingers grows larger, bigger, taking up all the air in the room until even the fire that lights up the stalactite ceiling disappears.

It feels like the world around us has taken a deep breath and gasped out, snuffing our vision out.

It’s dark, almost like a black void has consumed me. There’s nothing but black, black, and black, assaulting my vision in drowning shades. My head turns this way and that way, my eyes hungrily, desperately, searching for something, and the sounds of someone scrambling on the floor resound in the chillingly silent cavern.

“L-Law! What’s happened?” Bepo desperately calls out, his heavy footsteps aimlessly thundering around me. I let out a strangled gasp, my eyes subconsciously widening almost as if trying to consume something, anything that I can see.

I hear Law from below me, on the floor, his heavy boots struggling to find purchase to stand up. Whatever he was casting threw him to the ground, his groans an outcome of his power.

A hot breath flattens against my skin, prickling my hair on my neck, making me instantly look up and try to figure out the source.

“Calm down,” Zoro mutters to me, his breath tickling the shell of my ear, my face coming into contact with what could be his hard chest. His rough fingers curl over my wrist, held so tightly it feels like he won’t dare to let go.

Unable to think, I comply and breathe in slowly through my mouth. Law sounds to be standing on his feet, slightly stumbling in blindness, before he growls out,

“You fucked up, Zoro.”

I furrow my brows together, my head whipping to Trafalgar’s direction, but before I can respond, Law bites out another remark.

“Look down.”

With nothing else I can do, I lower my head and my eyes come into contact with my wrist. A small, faint flicker of blue light encircles around my skin like a cuff, laying on my skin so tightly it almost becomes even painful to twist it.

It flickers again as it gains more energy, more colour, until the thin ring of light transforms into a shackled cuff. It glows in the darkness, giving light to my surroundings, my breath catching in my throat as I look around. My eyes instantly lock on to Law, who has his jaw clenched tightly. But a slight twinge of sardonic humour glints in his eyes as he turns to Zoro, who’s looking furiously at him, his grip on me unrelenting.

“Law? What-what did you do?” Bepo squeaks out, his eyes bulging out of his skull. “What just happened?!”

“What the fuck is this?” I demand, staring down at my wrist.

Law sighs heavily, ignoring both Bepo and I. He doesn’t look away from Zoro’s intense gaze, almost frowning in betrayal. “Roronoa, do you really think I would’ve killed her?”

I hear Zoro’s teeth grit together almost too painfully before he says, “You were too close to her for my liking.”

Law rolls his eyes, trying to clear the surprised glint in them. “Well,” Law muses, his finger pointing at Zoro’s wrist. “You won’t be having that problem anymore.”

Immediately, we all look down to Zoro’s wrist.

A faint twin blue flickers against his large wrist, gaining more and more light to restrict his skin into a painfully tight circle. He moves his wrist reflexively, hissing out a curse as it also drags my wrist in his direction. I topple over with a yelp, my elbow barraging into his chest.

Instantly, my face falters. I look closely at the cuff around my skin, the way it sections out into a pattern of interlocked chains, growing and growing to meet Zoro’s. Zoro’s face contorts into a horrified realisation that mirrors mine, his wrist – and in extension, mine - tugging in front of his face as if to test the theory out.

My head whips up as I murderously look at Trafalgar.

“Oh, you did not do what I just think you did,” I snap.

Trafalgar only smiles at me, devoid of any humour. “He should’ve moved out of the way.”

[trincketbox]

Batman & Robin #8 spoilers bellow!!! Skip if you don't wanna see :^]

☠︎︎⋆♱✮♱⋆☠︎︎⋆♱✮♱⋆☠︎︎⋆♱✮♱⋆☠︎︎⋆♱✮♱⋆☠︎︎

Okay we're good

HER SPOOKY DOLL EYES

You don't understand, she's my child.

It almost made me forget about Damian's white washing, I love her so much.

Okay, back to the story.

["you'd do the same if it was a member of your batfamily"]

Uuuuh about that.

Like I GET where she's coming from and Damian for sure stands up for his family, but he sure as hell also has beaten their asses when they screw up (sometimes when they don't as well but y'know).

He did the cape thing guys.

I honestly saw this coming, but Im not mad that I did. It makes sense.

I really didn't saw Nika suddenly joining her sister on the family business, let alone with all the baggage between them. I know she's technically a morally good/grey-ish character but in this case her "betrayal" actually being one wouldn't fit her interests.

Me when Nika tries to protect Mila and get her out of a bad place while simultaneously beating her ass as she should and Damian even through still not enjoying the events understands her position and quickly gets over it

Also

who's gonna tell her?

Im still not over this

Damian, darling, you're asking this from Flatline, who's idea of inconspicuous is this pic

Aaaaand of course they're gonna try to take down Shush on their own.

This can go wrong in so many ways and Im so ready for it.

Anyways, had fun reading this. Can't wait for next issue !

[physalian]

On Writing a Compelling Fetch Quest, as told by TFP

Save for a single recap episode, season two of Transformers Prime is one long high-octane fetch quest, gunning for weapons and tools and eventually the keys to restoring Cybertron.

See this post where I’ve already gushed about this show but I just rewatched season 2 and it does absolutely everything right when so much of the tension could just come from the macguffin of the week.

Full Spoilers Ahead.

—

Season 2 begins with an amnesiac Optimus convinced he’s still best buds with “Megatronus” and that he’s still Orion Pax, factory reset to before he became a Prime with no knowledge of the war or Autobots or Decepticons. In this version of the lore, he was an archivist, the skills of which come into great use as he can decode ancient encryptions that Megatron’s had sitting locked in a vault and unable to crack for, seemingly, eons—unknowingly helping the enemy murder all his friends.

The information contained in this “Iacon Database” prompts the fetch quest that takes up the entire season. After the three part season debut (6 part if you count the 3 part season 1 finale as one long movie) where Team Prime ventures on their own fetch quest to restore Optimus’s memories, the board is nearly set. But first, a couple other episodes catching up with C-tier villains and bringing in some shiny new characters.

In these episodes, Megatron’s second-in-command, Starscream, who’s been rogue for quite some time, loses his ability to transform after trying to screw over Bumblebee. A “loose cannon” for Team Prime returns not quite as a main character, but more present than his lone episode in season 1, and Starscream’s replacement, Dreadwing, makes his debut. And, the other rogue character, Airachnid, is temporarily disposed of.

The board is now set: Autobots, Decepticons, and Starscream.

We begin at episode 11, where Megatron decides it’s a grand idea to infect his ship with zombie fuel to speed up some repairs, and the ship gains a life of its own, decoding the rest of the Iacon Database that Optimus left sitting behind, a job left to a different ‘Con, Soundwave, who’s no Optimus but doing his best. In that episode, the humans of Team Prime sneak aboard the wayward ship, steal the only four coordinates of the Fetch Quest that are available, and get the heck out of dodge.

Episodes 12-15: Four whole episodes occurring simultaneously, everyone available on both teams, every major player, Starscream included, all racing to these four locations to pick up either mystery weapons or tools of varying mass destruction. Each episode is intercut with dialogue and details from the other units, all coming to a head with the near-death of the Team Prime “Tank,” Bulkhead.

What’s in these four episodes is just a taste of the tension that the rest of the season will take on, kind of like a tournament arc pitting unlikely foes against each other over the MacGuffin of the day. My favorite is Wheeljack (robot cowboy samurai) and Ratchet (grumpy medic) vs Soundwave (aforementioned decrypter replacement who does not speak). The episode is visually gorgeous with a showdown on a cliff at sunset with the most beautiful golden hour for the fight (pictured above).

Every MacGuffin brings a new twist to the fight of their episode, of the four, 1 goes to the Bots, 1 goes to the Cons, 1 goes to Starscream, and 1 gets destroyed.

In the Wheeljack episode, Ratchet comes up with an idea to sneak a virus into Soundwave so they can steal the rest of the Iacon Database from the Cons, which proves a success.

Enter episodes 16-19, where we take a break from the pacing of the fetch quest to bring in another new character, Smokescreen, let Bulkhead heal up, let Wheeljack almost get murdered horrifically by giant bot beetles, and teach a little girl about how revenge does not bring peace. Oh and do away with the C-tier villains, they (almost) all die.

Episodes 20-23 are the last five coordinates for the quest: A fancy new sword to sell toys for Optimus in an absolutely badass episode where he cuts a whole mountain in half, and the 4 literal keys to restoring Cybertron.

The new tension comes from both making sure that Team Prime gets all four keys, and making sure that Megatron does not find out how important they are.

Team Prime gets 1, Megatron gets 1, Team Prime gets another, and then Starscream comes in out of nowhere to steal the 4th, and then sneaks into the base of Team Prime to steal the other 3.

I cannot remember the exact quote but after a yell of absolute anguish and frustration, Optimus collects himself enough to say: “The fate of our world now lies with Starscream, whatever his intention.”

Because, Starscream can’t do shit alone. He just has a very powerful bargaining tool to either buy back the Bots favor, or buy back his place with the Decepticons. Underscoring the importance of who has the keys is this: Whichever side restores Cybertron will have effectively won the war, able to then brand the other side officially as traitors, for a whole new reign of absolute authority. The stakes could not be higher.

Episode 24: The second and far superior flashback episode taking a look exclusively at Starscream’s role throughout the series and all his fabulous shenanigans, as Megatron puts him on trial to decide whether he should just kill his traitorous little SIC.

While these flashbacks are being displayed literally on a screen like they’re connected via HDMI cable, Dreadwing (Starscream’s interim replacement) finds out that not only did Starscream get his twin killed way back in season 1, but then raised his corpse and left the zombie wandering around the fifth dimension, and Megatron knew about it, and lied. (Dreadwing is a fantastic lawful evil character, this post is just ridiculously long already without giving everybody bios)

The episode ends with Dreadwing betraying his whole side to give Team Prime intel, and a magical MacGuffin hammer (that they initially lost in the earlier stages of the Fetch Quest) to level out the playing field, he then goes back to his team and monologues a bit too long before trying to kill Starscream himself (as Megatron still won’t) and gets murdered for his efforts, when he was absolutely right.

At this point, Starscream is back with the Decepticons, they have all they keys (but not yet the knowledge of how they work or where they go to), and they believe that they have a free shot to fly back to Cybertron as the Autobots don’t have any way to get there themselves.

Enter the finale: Episodes 25 and 26. We’re almost there.

The magic MacGuffin hammer Dreadwing gave the Bots can fix or craft almost anything (with limited uses) and they use it to make their wormhole portal into a much beefier version—a space bridge—to portal themselves to Cybertron with every single weapon they’ve collected over the course of the Fetch Quest in their arsenal.

This is a mission they’ll either win, or die trying, they have to steal back the keys and reach the lock before Megatron does, and Megatron just figured out where the lock is.

The Bots manage to do it all, get the keys, take out hoards of faceless minions in their way, they’re a the lock, all they have to do is turn it on.

When out of seemingly nowhere, Megatron executes his backup plan: The whole season, he’s had Soundwave quietly scoping out the Bots’ secret base, and the homes of their human allies. Due to a grave mistake on Ratchet’s part, those humans are not protected at the worst time possible, and they get kidnapped.

Megatron delivers an ultimatum: Cybertron, or three human children?

Rather controversially, Optimus chooses the children, but destroys the lock so Cybertron can’t be revived by either side.

Episode 26 then ends with the reveal that Megatron discovered the location of their base, and as they all scramble to different corners of the earth, Megatron nukes it, and Optimus with it.

—

What I think TFP does really well with the MacGuffins is that, by and large, they themselves are never the point of their episodes. The writers knew audiences wouldn’t be sated with just the objects themselves carrying the story, which is what every fetch quest story should be:

The MacGuffin itself does not mean shit to the audience, 9 times out of 10. It could be swapped out for something else and largely not impact its purpose in the story. What matters is what it means to everyone who wants it, and what they’re willing to do to get it.

In TFP's case, these MacGuffins cannot be replaced. Several show up more than once to give unique advantages to different fights or become incredibly useful 11th hour tools—the setup and payoff with them is fantastic.

Yes, some of these “relics” are dangerous weapons, but in the background of the whole season there is so much subtext. Optimus’s guilt and Megatron’s manipulations over what he did while he had no memory. Various rivalries between sides coming to a head. The Starscream wild card that continued to take everyone by surprise again and again. Optimus’s increasing impatience to finally end this war and set aside the rivalry to try and kill Megatron for real this time, several times.

Regardless of who had what item, the balance of power between both sides was shifting constantly. The Bots would get a slight advantage, and the Cons would match it immediately. The Cons would win a battle, but then infighting would cost them the next one. Optimus’s fancy sword was shattered the very next episode when Megatron made his own using a stolen hand of a dead Prime to power the magic creation hammer—a nice bit of commentary on mutually assured destruction. Megatron never would have gone that far if Optimus didn’t get his own uber powerful weapon first.

Nor was every battle over the MacGuffin-of-the-day the same. Different players, different environments, different rules at play depending on the power of the MacGuffin itself, or the ulterior motives of either side.

And there were consequences, too, as this series is pretty mature. Dreadwing dies pretty graphically, a different dead Bot gets turned into a ghoul and his (totally canon) husband loses his shit over seeing a filthy human wearing his metal skin around.

If you won’t watch this show because you think the franchise is lame, I can’t change your mind, but if ever there was an entry into the franchise that proved how good it could be—and there is a time and a place for the camp of G1—TFP would be it.

[takeyourcyanide]

I Know That The Writing’s On The Wall

AO3

Fandom: Soul Eater

Character: Franken Stein

Word Count: 744

Tags: Minor Violence, Blood and Gore, Random & Short, Nausea, References to Addiction, Descent into Madness

Summary: Four separate signs of the times. Things, happenings, signs that were present at the beginning of Stein’s episode of madness. Sort of like documentation.

Notes: This is another defrag fic, a bit of an exercise to hopefully get me back into the groove of writing, as there is a fic I’d really like to finish. May the head fog clear.

I contemplated even posting this one.

The title is inspired by a lyric in the song ‘Candy’ by Paolo Nutini. I can also recommend Marina’s (formerly known as Marina and the Diamonds) cover of the song. Both are quite lovely, in my opinion.

I would like to add that this fic is technically four separate chapters on AO3. Here you go, anyway.

A gust of wintry air cascaded out of the vents, embracing Stein, even despite whatever warmth the stitched-up lab coat he’d slept in provided him. It left his screw frigid to the touch, though he allowed his fingertips to ache as he rather sloppily turned it.

A bird, somewhere not too distant, chirped in the same cadence, in the same tone for a solid minute or so. The pleasant scent of stale cigarette smoke mixed with the lingering scent of various different chemicals soothed the exhausted restlessness causing his limbs to gradually tear apart.

He’d walked through the simultaneously welcomed and agitation-inducing darkness of his laboratory, his body moving on its own towards the kitchen.

‘Perhaps a little piece of my brain remembered some semblance of a former routine,’ he pondered, as he forced something bland, something tasteless down his throat, suppressing a repulsed gag.

He attempted to distract himself from his terribly slow chewing, from the taste and the texture of the unwanted food in his mouth, swallowing.

He stared down at the rest of the bar he held, grimacing. He allowed himself a sigh, as he tossed the item into the trash with the rest of the food he couldn’t bring himself to finish without vomiting.

-

Stein cranked his screw, the loud screeching in his ears a sound he was long desensitized to.

“Okay, class,” two words managed to successfully leave him, directed to the ones with the expectant and oddly concerned gazes. “Today, we’re going to……

…Uh…”

“Are we dissecting something again?” An annoyed grumble came from somewhere in the front row.

“No. ..We’re…”

His head began to violently throb with each frantic turn of the protruding steel.

‘Think, Goddamnit!’

“We’re.. um..”

“Are you-“

“Oh! Yes. Yes, that’s right. We’re going to be delving further into the history of the field of phasmology.”

-

Fingers massaging his temples, a bluish light flooding his eyes.

Each sentence he tried to read appeared as an entirely different sentence at first, before his second reading.

He spun in his chair once, twice.

He bit into his lip, and he turned his screw.

He whipped his head around, the sensation of a hand touching his scalp, tugging on his hair an obnoxious, somewhat unnerving distraction.

He was unable to focus on his work.

He banged his head against the painted wood of his desk, exacerbating his already disorienting headache.

Stein, with a sigh, pushed himself and his chair away from his computer, allowing the screen to darken until it became blank, until the only thing he could see on the screen was a reflection of himself and his worn appearance.

-

Reminders of dissection and cigarettes left his body and him in agony.

They were all-consuming, all that he could possibly think about, save for the frequent agitated ramble.

He’d pace the halls, he’d jerk and twitch.

He’d dreamt numerous times that he had the comfort of a cigarette hanging from his lips, the comfort of nicotine relaxing his rattled mind, the comfort of the taste and smell of smoke looming on his tongue, looming in his nostrils, and looming in the air around him.

He’d dreamt of a warm body lying on, strapped down to his dissection table, as he’d bring his scalpel of choice down onto the softness of the subject’s skin, digging the blade, with precision, down into the tissue, leaving an incision teeming with blood, shining under his surgical light, in its wake. He’d dreamt of removing each layer - flesh, fat, and muscle - leaving organs and bones left to collect and thoroughly analyze with a giddy, ear-to-ear smile on his face. He’d dreamt of injecting a subject with hydrogen peroxide. He’d even dreamt of harvesting an individual’s bones for the sake of creating his own *authentic* ‘classroom skeleton’ of sorts.

And each time he’d wake up, he’d wake up horrendously pained and disappointed that he could not live within those dreams.

Or perhaps he could. Would it be worth it to go down that path? Would it be worth it to sacrifice all that he had built for himself, all that he had promised to himself as soon as his deterioration became far more overtly imminent?

Anything to experience that cocktail of pure euphoria, sadistic pleasure, and the complete satiation of his supposedly “morbid” curiosities, no? Anything to take the edge off and refresh himself, no? Anything to be in touch with who he truly was, with what his soul truly was, no?

[judesmoonbeauty]

I wrote an angst about Jude today, then when I played an escort, he gifted me with 2,000 gold coins over 50 diamonds. Well, played, Jude. Well. Played. Thought about it for while, and said, "Nah, let's mess with him." So, here's a little tit-for-tat fic in which I screw with Jude for his giving me gold over diamonds. Also, this is an introduction to my OC - Isla Corbin - that I will feature in my writing from time to time. This fic was written in like 30 minutes, so keep that in mind..... WC: 1,309 Pairing: Jude Jazza x OC Isla Corbin Pronouns: She/Her CW: Cursing Tags: SWF ┃Teasing ┃Self-Aware Characters ┃Bullying Jude ┃OC Introduction

Sitting on a bunch crates near the harbor, Jude, Ellis and Isla sat together enjoying their gelato in the summer heat. The sky was bluer than it had ever been after weeks of rain, the people were working hard, but in a cheerful mood and Jude had a good morning of debt collections. There was no reason for any of them to be questioning the ordinary day, but Ellis finally spoke up after a while.

“Hey, Jude. Have you ever wondered if we’ve ever lived different lives?”

“Hah, I knew ya were off you rocker, but this an another level of creepy. ‘Course not…..why?”

Ellis pulled up from the crates he leaned against, and confessed this odd feeling he hadn’t been able to shake for a while now.

“I feel like, I’ve seen other versions of our lives…..as if they were stories written about us.”

Jude raised a quizzical brow at his assistant’s ramblings and then looked at Isla as she was munching on her cone. She didn’t seem to be bothered by Ellis’ prattling nonsense at all.

“I mean, what if we were works of fiction and controlled by some kind creator?”

“What?”

“Jude, what would you say if you lived in another world and rode around in some kind super fast black carriage that was powered like the steam engine and went on what was called a “road trip”, or if Isla were almost taken advantage of by a bad guy while she was alone in the Scala?

“Say that last part again?!”

Isla kept to herself as Jude became more and more worked up over Ellis’ hypothetical ramblings, but far from being over Ellis continued….

“Yea, what if I you went through months of suffering and pining over her because you were written to be stuffy about your feelings instead of honest about them? Hmm, I feel like I’ve seen some good things to…like you and Isla having a gelato date near the bridge, and reuniting after you saved her……playing with her hair, licking her fingers. But the most recent thing I feel like we’ve lived through was her leaving you soaking wet at the dock over there. Oh! And the creator of that story had a seagull crap on you. Hmmm, I guess you could say they’re like an author. If that’s true, then how’d you feel about it, Jude?”

Furrowing his brows at Ellis and feeling immense anger pipe up like steam, “How would I feel ‘bout it? Ha! What poppycock! Even IF that were true, I don’t remember any of it, and that’s some shitty ass author for writin’ about people like that. I’d roast their ass ‘n sink their ashes in the river Thames.”

“Hmmm, maybe you’re right. But, what if this very conversation were being written as we speak?”

Ellis points up to the vast sky to make his point, “What if they are watching us right now and every word I say, and every reaction you make is being simultaneously written.”

Jude scoffs at Ellis, lights a cigarette and decides to test his little theory.

“Fine, then let’s test it out. Go ahead, call out to this author,” he laughed menacingly.

Standing up Ellis walks a few feet away from Jude and Isla who was finally finishing up her cone, not concerned in the slightest as to what was about to happen. Clearing his throat Ellis calls out to the sky, “Excuse, sir or madam author, um…..if what I say is true……can you make another seagull crap on Jude’s shoulder?”

“Oi!!! What the hell?”

Jude stood up to walk towards Ellis, but within seconds there was a large splatter of white all over his coat.

“Ugh, what the-”

“Wow! See Jude it’s true. Thank you, author!”

A gentle wind ruffled past Ellis like it was patting his fluffy hair in approval. “That’s just a coincidence!” Jude fought back as he took off his jacket and threw it to the ground.

“Then, why don’t you try Jude? Just politely ask them do something as a sign.”

“Outta my way, ya loon.” Jude looked up to the sky too and challenged the unknown being on the other side.

“If this crazy bastard is telling the truth, then make it rain while it’s still sunny outside.”

It was a simple command to control the weather, it should be easy for an author or creator to make happen if it were true. After a few moments, nothing happened and Jude laughed triumphantly, although many onlookers did wonder if they should contact the asylum for a madman screaming commands at the sky.

“HA! See, you’re wrong. Now shuddup.”

Just as Jude was walking back to the crates to take a seat, a sudden downpour erupted and drenched him with bullets of rain and more than that, with small bits of hail pelting him. He covered his head unable to move because of the severity of the storm, and when it finally ended, he was shocked to find that neither neither Ellis nor Isla were wet. In fact, they there wasn’t even a drop of water on them.

Ellis was stunned at what just happened, but Isla just sat there on the crate resting her chin in a thinking position as she crossed her leg, and watched her lover lose his temper. Jude was shocked that what he asked to happen actually happened, no it was not what he asked, it was far more severe than what he asked. Then, if this were true and all of what Ellis said were true…..

“OY! THE FUCK WAS THAT? HAH?! I’LL CREAM YOUR ASS!!!”

When Isla erupted into a giggle over Jude’s tantrum, he turned around to find her sitting there like she was the Queen of Sheba. Her reaction was odd, she’d normally ask if Jude were alright and suggest they go for a drink or something to calm him down.

“Isla…..”

“Are you cold you, Mr. Jazza? Want me to dry you off?”

With a snap of her fingers, a strong East wind blew past Jude knocking him over, but after the wind subsided he was indeed dry again.

“H-how did you…?” He stood up from the ground and walked to his lover.

“I am she and she is I.”

The confused look on his face was quite adorable, so Isla stood up and walked over to him and pinched his cheek, “She has a message for you, Mr. Jazza.”

“What does that mean? Who is “she” and why is “she” doing this?”

Leaning into his ear - Isla Corbin - the young woman whom Jude had known since her days as a clerk at the solicitor’s office that he frequented, the daughter of the well-to-do merchant of a business called D’Lune, and his fiancee who now worked with him and Crown, now seemed to be some one completely different as she whispered in his ear….

“Because you’re fun to bully Short King.”

“Short King? I’m not s-”

Isla grabbed his head before he said another word.

“This is what you get for giving me 2,000 coins during an escort over 50 diamonds you petty, lovable bastard. Do it again, and I’ll melt your brain by stuffing it with all the fan-fiction I’ve written about you.”

“Isla, you’d better-”

The author typed for Isla to quickly give the love of her life a kiss on the cheek, and instantly the entire scene rewound to the start of the fic, leaving the author smiling happily on the other side of the sky - through her screen - as she watched the three precious darlings she loved with all her heart go about their day enjoying gelato and collecting debts - completely ignorant of the fun she just had with them.

@ichigostellaglynn @atelierquinn @mrslelouch Please let me know if you want to be added to my tags list.

[drinkyourvillainjuice]

Character Q&A - Mallory & Wil - June '24

Hey peoples!

Over on Patreon, members can submit questions for poll-winning characters to answer in-character. The current hotseat belongs to Mal and Wil simultaneously. Since the answers are public, I figured why not post them here too. Enjoy!

For Mal:

Q: Mal, is there a look you feel the most comfortable in?

A: Sorta? It's more like, there's a range I prefer staying inside. I don't like being too tall or too short, I like keeping the toned bod. I'd have glasses a lot more if they weren't a pain in the ass with a mask. Usually prefer not being too masc or fem, but that depends. It's a comfort thing. Oh, and I don't like changing ethnicity. I dunno how to explain it but it feels, like... yeah I dunno. Lying isn't usually a problem for me but that kinda deceit makes me feel not okay.

Q: When did you first discover you could do what you do?

A: I was like nine or ten and I was screwing around in the kitchen. I think I was trying to microwave dirt or something? I was a little shit when I was a kid. Anyway I picked up my toasty dirt and my hand kind of just melted and I'm freaking out and thinking I invented acid dirt. Luckily mom was there and ran in and she kinda knew what to do, so I put my hand back together and started changing skin colours. Red, blue, orange, all kinds. Then I got grounded for microwaving dirt.

Q: What's your idea of a good date?

A: Hm, good question. I like to switch things up, but I'd rather be doing like, an activity. I get kinda restless with sitdown stuff like dinner or going to the movies. Would rather curl up at home if we're gonna watch something. But yeah, like, going to the club, dancing, just doing things in each other's company, and if we can go home and cuddle or uh, more, afterward, then even better. I mean that's not essential, touch is just a thing for me.

Q: What do you think of the new members?

A: Teddie needs to lighten up. I know his power is a shitty hand, but the grouchy act gets kinda old when you're trying to work as a team. Kay's fun, though if she sticks with this career she's either gonna wise up or she's gonna get burned hard. Still, it's nice having someone around who gets gender stuff. I like Wil but I don't think he's cut out for this line of work. Just a feeling. Guilty conscious, you know?

[MC] is interesting. 'lil bit of a wildcard. Definitely holding a lot back, but who isn't? There are deep wounds there, and I mean deep. I dunno. People with nothing to lose are dangerous, and I doubt [MC] has much.

Q: What kind of movies / TV shows do you like?

A: I'm an unrepentant lover of trash. Give me shitty reality TV and direct to DVD movies. Musicals, too. Just, uh, hope you don't mind hearing all the songs over and over the next few days cause I'll be singing them nonstop.

Q: Did you ever think of being an actor?

A: Nah, not for me. Only two things I ever wanted to be. Still working on those.

For Wil:

Q: Wil, what's your idea of a good date?

A: A good date's one where everyone enjoyed themselves. The actual activity could be almost anything. I love taking people to concerts, though. Not big ones, I'm talking the kind that you get at a bar or maybe a smallish performance centre. There's just something special about it.

Q: What do you think of the group?

A: I don't like that Dion kept things quiet until we'd already committed ourselves. I'm all for giving the government a big fuck you, but Dion held it back on purpose. Makes it harder to trust him. The group as a whole is alright, I guess. Get along okay with everyone. Little surreal to have coworkers and friends as a villain. Hanging out with buddies in downtime isn't something I ever pictured villains doing, you know?

[MC] worries me a bit. There's this... haunted air, and that doesn't happen out of nowhere. I kind of hope there's something I can do to help.

Q: What music do you listen to?

A: K-pop and country.

*cracks up*

Okay, that was a lie. Yeah, I'm absolutely predictable. I like punk and metal, bit of alt rock. I have a pipe organ album, too.

...what?

Q: How did you meet Teddie and Kay?

A: We were all younger. Their powers were both already a thing, mine weren't. They used to hang out a lot in this one neighourhood next to the Parks which is basically the Parks minus one percent, and I happened to work at a coffee place there. They came in now and then, got the impression they couldn't really afford it very often. Exchanged a few words here and there, hadn't really met them until they staggered in one day all bloody and bruised. I guess I was the nearest person they vaguely thought they could trust?

Anyway that's how I wound up getting introductions while fixing Teddie's broken nose.

[slycooperconfessions]

"I think overall, the reason Penelope's heel turn was so poorly received is that it pretty much f*cked up everyone's characters simultaneously. I think Penelope could have been at least an okay villain (I mean, she started off as one in 3), but her portrayal made a brilliant character portrayed as Bentley's intellectual and inventing equal as vapid, whiny and shallow. It made Bentley look like a complete idiot, Sly's typical offbeat playfulness veered into an annoying devil-may-care snark, and Murray was just not there at all despite his emotional intelligence being a huge part of 3's dynamics. It's hard to salvage because it screws up so much in one fell swing."

Confessed by: Anonymous

(This is all very correct. ~Mod)

[speedierthanasubmarine]

I decided to watch helluva boss and imma do 2 separate posts for seasons 1 and two (why did I write it like that…?)

Season one

God I love this show. The writing is way more my speed than Hazbin hotel on Amazon, I enjoyed the writing in the pilot, but once Amazon took over the humor just didn’t really land for me, and tbh the plot took over and I started focusing more on that, and in general I’m more partial to the rapid fire YouTube dry comedy and this sentence is a friggin mess- I found HB SO FREAKIN FUNNY

Dude when he goes “FUCK, a new hole” I lost it

“Just try and sue us”

“We’re rich and we’re hot”

“I can just buy all the things!”

“You should commit die”

“Hehe, Trumpet!”

These are just my kinda lines, I don’t know how to explain it, I was wheezing all throughout the season

The music OH LORD when I say I’ve listened to stolas’s lullabye, lulu land, cotton candy, and house of ozmodius like 100000 times I’m… exaggerating but like you get the point the music here is friggin fantastic I also really like how a lot of the music is diegetic, I think that’s a fun touch. I don’t remember whether this is the case in Hazbin, but in this one it was like… I don’t know, it made sense that they were singing when they were singing… am I articulating myself well? I don’t care, iykyk if not, no prob

The animation is great, Viv loves them spinny shots and I am here for it. The amount of genuinely amazing action scenes is super impressive, and even the chill scenes have a ton of personality

The voice acting might be what steals the show for me, idrk anyone’s names cept Alex Brightman but BLITZS VA NEEDS AN AWARD, also slight tangent but I don’t know what it is with stolas’s va but he sounds a lot like a bird in the same sense that Gary Oldman sounded a lot like a bird in Kung Fu Panda 2, what is it that casting directors recognize in actors that screams bird?! Because both of these men are just SO BIRD DOES ANYONE GET WHAT I MEAN moving on, Ozzie’s voice was also effing PERFECT it slid silkily over me like… silk butter or smtg it was the perfect lust voice, I loved it. Everyone else was also great, but they were extra great.

It was also just so fun? Like in hazbin there’s very little just… shenanigans to enjoy, nothing wrong with that because it’s not that type of show, whereas this season is jam packed with them. Like I’ve heard that everyone hated episode 4, but like I don’t know I loved it😆 I just found it to be good old fashioned chicanery, and I liked the chaos and stupidity of it, made for some entertaining TV. This story engine is just mad entertaining for me.

I also enjoyed the writing of most of the characters (Millie, Moxxie, Loona, and Octavia still leave a bit to be desired imo, but whatever, they can’t all be winners and there’s nothing wrong with them) Blitz kinda reminds me of a Barney Stinson type character, which I really enjoy, and I also really like how his boss persona kinda infects everything he does while simultaneously being what’s screwing him over, his nature is kinda like a snake swallowing its own tail, which is tragic and beautiful, and Stolas compliments him well by being, not an enabler, but… I don’t know a clever way to say this… Stolas is a wreck in the best way and he just works. He’s short sighted, like extremely so, like how he thinks sleeping with Blitz will fill his emotional void so he does it but it just drives them further apart so it’s like he’s in a hole and in order to get out he’s gonna dig to pile up dirt so he can climb out but he’s an idiot and that’s a stupid idea and I loved his whole arc. Very enjoyable stuff drama.

Kinda random but whoever Viv’s foli artist is also deserves an award, the sound effects in this show are pristine and it’s incredible (yes I’ve seen the scene where the gun sounds go off a few seconds too late, and yeah, mistakes happen, but every bone crunch sounds and other stuff like that being so enunciated in an indie show is extremely impressive)

Anyhoo, very fun, very emotional, nice to look at, very funny, yada yada- altogether great season 1.

[katyawriteswhump]

Kiss me better (Steddie holiday drabble)

Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 26 prompt, ‘Who did this to you?’

For Eddie, being an immortal sex demon has its advantages, especially when your boyfriend is left for dead. Also posted on my ao3

WC: 985. Rating: M (bordering E?)

CW: Sex, possible VERY temporary character death. Tags: Whump, magic au, Incubus!Eddie, hurt Steve, fluff.

***

Eddie finds Steve near the lake, crumpled on his side. He rolls Steve over, and his own blood congeals to ice.

Shiiiiit!

Steve’s apparently senseless, his face white as the winter frost. Eddie fumbles for a pulse, finds it—sluggish, fitful—near the telltale twin puncture wounds on Steve’s throat.

Steve’s lashes flutter. “Eddie? Sssorrry I stood you up, maaan.”

You’re seriously apologising for skipping our date? “Who did this to you?”

“Haa…gr…”

Hargrove! Eddie shouldda wasted that showboating vampire long ago.

Steve’s breaths are shallow gasps. He isn’t trying to hide his terror—so yeah, it’s super-bad. There’s barely a spot of blood on him. Billy’s pretty much chugged the lot.

“Eddie?” The whites of Steve’s eyes flash up and he falls completely limp.

Shiiiiit! Plural!

Okay, you got this, Munson.

Eddie rises, cradling Steve in his arms. He unleashes his wings, flies back to the trailer, sits with Steve on his bed…

…and kisses him.

Eddie’s magic stirs, tingles from his lips into Steve.

“C’mon, Sleeping Beauty.”

Eddie despairs, tastes his own salty tears. Then… Steve’s lips warm and soften. Eddie detects the whispering ghost of a breath, and Steve tentatively kisses back. Eddie plunges his tongue deep, and it all gets yummily messy.

Drink my power, Babe, to Hell with the consequences.

When Eddie pulls away, Steve’s awake. Woozy, though: “That was tooootally hot, dude.”

He’s no longer scared or in pain—a cool bonus feature of Eddie’s glamour. His skin is waxy, though, his pulse weak, and he’s still slumped boneless against Eddie.

The kiss wasn’t enough.

“Stevie. Uh, you know I said I was into you, but not into… full-on sex. You cool with me changing my mind?”

“Suuuure. Totally love you.” Steve faintly giggles: “You’re… gonna have to do… the h-heavy lifting… for a change.” He shudders and his head lolls sideways.

“Steve? Steve!”

Eddie knows what he must do.

***

Riiiight, so me and Eddie are having sex.

Steve hasn’t a clue how he got here, should possibly be freaking out. He’s drunk or high, or… Screw it, this is mega-hot. He’s lying on his back, knees hitched up. His gorgeous boyfriend is butt naked, and taking him with slow, deep strokes, striking sweet spots Steve never knew he had.

“Uh… wow?”

Eddie stoops, captures Steve lips in a brief but searing kiss. “Love you, Babe. Couldn’t lose you.”

Huh?

Eddie laps Steve up with thirsty eyes, which seems to strip him naked, even beyond his skin. Steve gasps, squirms: “Gnnng, Eddie. Too good… gonna…” Fuck! Don’t want this over too quick.

“You’re doing great, Babe. Ride with it.”

“Damn!” Steve bites his lip.

He hasn't come yet. Wave after wave of pleasure crashes through him. Eddie’s fucking and filling him, kindling an insatiable itch that builds and builds. If he’d realised sex with a guy was gonna be this crazy-awesome, he’d have had his gay cherry popped years ago.

He reaches up, touches Eddie’s face. Eddie’s loving gaze seems to sweep him into a deep, raging whirlpool, and it’s kinda overwhelming. Steve closes his eyes, and it gets freakier. Eddie’s sexy tats rear up in the darkness—bats swirl, puppets dance, and that skull cackles, ape-shit mental.

The weird shit briefly knocks him from his ‘gonna-come-soon’ happy place. Then Eddie’s lips recapture his, and they’re totally at one. Steve comes hard, with the merest friction against his dick. Simultaneously, Eddie shoots his load, flooding Steve with a crazy, tingly warmth that somehow jets to his deepest veins.

Steve floats. Totally blissed out.

Next thing he knows, Eddie spoons him from behind, cocooning him in a warm fuzz.

“That was epic,” says Steve. “Why d’you stall so long?”

***

When Steve awakes, Eddie sits on the bed, shirtless, twisting his rings. He notices Steve stir and jumps as if slapped.

“Steve! How you doing?”

“Good. I think.” He can’t remember last night. He’s not hungover, though. “Uh, kinda sore?” Woah! He recalls the AWESOME SEX and cackles. “That’s on you, Munson.”

“Sorry,” mumbles Eddie.

“What for?” Steve raises himself on an elbow. The room spins then settles… then panic strikes. “You gonna dump my ass?”

“No! No way.” Eddie gets up, starts pacing. “Look, there’s a teeny chance you died last night. And that this morning, you’re a vampire. Sired—uh, that means sorta enslaved—to Billy Hargrove. Or a minor sex demon. Sired to me. Or perhaps still human. Jury’s out. Not sure if you actually passed, or if I snatched you back in time.”

“What?” Steve’s panic surges. “No, no, no! Last night was a bad trip. Good trip?” He scrapes his hair from his face. “I’m confused.”

“Stevie, Hargrove is a vampire. He drank from you, left you dying. I saved you by… Listen, usually I leech life-force through sex with humans—that’s why I was hesitant to jump your bones. In a fix, though, I can pass life on. Bit of a headache, my overlord’s gonna be pissed. Totally worth it.” Eddie stops pacing, raises his hands kinda defensively. “Babe, I’m an Incubus.”

“A whut?”

“Immortal sex demon?”

Eddie unleashes some feathery black wings, which brush to the cluttered walls of his room, lightly strumming his guitar strings. Steve backs into a corner, blanket hugged before him.

The wings vanish.

Eddie dumps his ass back on the bed, leans beside Steve. Steve’s trembling with shock, cold sweat beading his brow. Talk about mind boggling! “Did you fuck me back to life, dude?”

Eddie shrugs. “Possibly.”

Steve’s close to losing his shit. He should totally split; like, flee the state. Instead, he flings his arms around Eddie, smacks a kiss on his boyfriend’s angst-ridden face. 

“Chill,” says Steve. “I’m sure as heck not sired, or whatever, to Hargrove—I wanna get naked with YOU. Evidence suggests I’m still a brainless teen.”

“Babe, it’s risky—”

“Jesus! I’m fine.” Steve ignores his inner screams of terror, pushes Eddie flat against the pillows and kisses him stupid.

[strangerstilinski]

𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐕𝐎𝐋𝐔𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐈 ✶ Teen Wolf Rewrite

Stiles Stilinski / Original Female Character

TW | S2

chapter seven

fic summary; as if the last month and a half hadn't been stressful enough – now there were a few more werewolves, a kanima, and a seriously disturbed old man added into the mix. but amber, stiles, and scott could totally handle it. it would be fine. everything was great.

word count; 19k

warnings; the possibly triggering scene from the show with Jackson being creepy in the locker room, slight gore maybe?, eventual explicit sexual content, oral sex (both m and f), fluff fluff and more fluff

chapter notes; the group tries to figure out who's been controlling jackson all this time. ben davis makes a brief return as my own personal plot device. stiles is his typically over-dramatic self and amber is, as usual, super into it.

masterlist

c h a p t e r s e v e n

restraint

Amber's nerves had her nearly dropping her phone to the floor of her car as she climbed behind the wheel while simultaneously trying to get ahold of Stiles. Fingers of her free hand fumbled over the touchscreen, already turning her key in the ignition as the call began to ring through. Stiles was answering before the first trill through the speaker had even finished sounding out, his voice frantic.

"Why the hell haven't you been answering your phone?" He shouted through the speaker, the pitch of his voice higher than normal.

"Is Scott still with you?" She asked immediately, taking the turn off of her street a touch too quickly than was probably good for her tires, "Because I was just with Lydia and-"

"Jackson escaped." Scott's voice supplied through the phone.

"He what?" Amber squeaked, letting off the clutch to shift gears and increase the speed of the car that much more, "Guys he's not-"

"Yeah, he got out and the asshole went straight to the police," Stiles told her, "His dad's here and my dad's pissed and Scott's mom is on her way down to the station."

"You guys are at the station?" She cursed, slamming on the breaks so she could make a messy three point turn and backtrack in the direction of the Sheriff's station.

"Yeah, and we're totally screwed," Stiles was telling her as she reoriented her car in the right direction, "My dad said the Whittemore's are filing a restraining order against Scott and I. As soon as Scott's mom gets here my dad has to read out the terms and-"

"Stiles!" Amber interrupted sharply, "That sucks but it's not important right now, okay? Lydia translated part of the kanima entry from the bestiary-"

"How'd she do that?" Scott cut in.

"She knows Archaic Latin, Scott. Now shut up and listen to me," Amber snapped as she turned onto the next street, "Mrs. Morrell translated it wrong! The kanima doesn't seek a friend, alright? The kanima seeks a master! Which means someone's controlling Jackson-"

"Woah, what?" Stiles exclaimed through the speaker.

"Stiles, you said that Jackson still didn't believe you when you were explaining everything to him earlier, right?" She asked, shifting gears as she went around a sharp corner.

"Yeah, pretty much." Stiles agreed.

"Well, so- If Jackson doesn't know what he's doing then he must not know someone's even controlling him." Amber deduced.

"Or he doesn't remember." Scott supplied.

"What if it's the same kinda thing that happened with Lydia when she took off from the hospital?" Stiles questioned.

"Right!" Amber recalled, "Like a fugue state-"

Scott's voice came through the phone again, "But then he'd have to forget everything.. The murder-"

"Getting rid of all the blood-" Amber offered up, an image flashing behind her eyes of Jackson's bloodied body at the nightclub. She thought of how he would've had to have washed the blood away himself after he'd killed Tucker, and Isaac's dad, and then the hunter-

"Yeah," Stiles agreed, "He had help with one thing though.. The video. Someone else helped him forget that." He reminded them of the erased footage.

"Whoever's controlling him." Scott said quietly.

The tires of Amber's car squealed quietly in protest as she peeled into the parking lot at the station and jerked to a slightly crooked stop between the painted white lines.

"Jackson thinks that being with Lydia somehow made him immune and, like, delayed the whole werewolf bite thing-" Amber told them, throwing herself from the vehicle and nearly falling to the pavement in her haste to slam the door shut behind her, "Where exactly are you guys?"

"What d'you mean?" Stiles asked in confusion as Amber pushed the front door to the station open, "I told you we're down at the station-"

"Yeah, so am I," She panted slightly, adrenaline still pumping in her veins from the wild drive from her house, "So where are you guys?"

She let her phone drop from her ear to her shoulder as she stepped up to the door that led to the interrogation rooms, only to find the door locked, the handle stiff and unmoving when she jiggled it. She turned to cast an incredulous look at the female deputy who was watching her from behind the front desk and Amber gestured wildly at the door with her free hand.

"Tara, I know you recognize me," Amber said in exasperation, "C'mon, buzz me in-"

Tara frowned, slowly eyeing the girl's frazzled state, but pressed her finger down on the button to unlock entry into the hallway. Amber sighed gratefully as she rushed through, nearly running straight into Stiles' chest when she stepped into the hall at the same time that he and Scott stumbled out of the room at the front end of the corridor.

"Jesus!" She exclaimed in surprise as her boyfriend's hands came up to steady her.

She abandoned her phone completely, ending the call and shoving it into her pocket as she looked at her best friends.

"We need to find out who's controlling him." Scott quietly continued their conversation from before.

"D'you think he'll talk to us?" Amber questioned, "I mean.. After what we did? Kidnapping him and all?"

Stiles shrugged, "Yeah, it's us. He'll talk to us," He nodded before catching Amber's unsure frown, "..Right?"

It was at that moment that Sheriff Stilinski stepped out from a room further down the hall and cast a disappointed look at the three teens.

"Scott, your mom just pulled in. So, you boys get your asses into this room," He said firmly, "Now."

Stiles and Scott lowered their heads and followed the order, moving down the hall and into the larger interrogation room. Ms. McCall hurried past Amber only a moment later and the girl immediately moved to follow but Sheriff Stilinski held up a hand in signal for her to stop.

"No." He said simply.

Amber spluttered, taking another aborted step forward, "Wh- But- If I could just-"

"This doesn't concern you," He told her firmly before raising his eyebrows in question, "Does it?"

"Um.. No?" She told him cautiously.

"Then you stay out here." He said, giving her a serious look before moving into the room himself, leaving the door into the hallway open behind him.

Amber moved to the edge of the doorway, attempting to listen closely to what was going on just on the other side of the wall. Ms. McCall hovered at the edge of the room, her arms crossed over the scrub top she was still wearing after having rushed down to the station straight from work.

"Scott. Stiles. This is going to apply to both of you, so listen to me very closely," The Sheriff said in a stern voice, "You will not go within fifty feet of Jackson Whittemore. You will not speak to him.. You will not approach him.. You will not assault or harass him physically or psychologically."

"What about school?" Stiles questioned immediately.

His father sighed, "You both can attend classes while attempting to maintain a fifty foot distance."

Amber shook her head, unsure how such a thing was possible when they shared so many classes with the other boy in addition to lacrosse.

"Bu- Okay, what if we both have to use the bathroom at the same time-" Stiles started, words rambling together quickly as Amber clenched her eyes shut and silently willed him to stop talking while he continued, "-And there's only two stalls available, and those two stalls are right next to each other?"

There was a brief silence and Amber brought her fingers up to pinch the bridge of her nose in exasperation.

"-I'll just hold it." Stiles said quietly after a few moments.

A few minutes later, Stiles' father was leading him out of the room with a hand fisted in the collar of the boy's sweatshirt, "Do I need to remind you how lucky we are that they're not pressing charges?" The Sheriff demanded.

"Oh, come on! It was a joke!" Stiles attempted to justify their actions.

Amber had to physically fight the urge to press the palm of her hand against her forehead in vexation.

"It was a joke?" Sheriff Stilinski repeated incredulously.

"Yes!" Stiles agreed quickly, "I didn't think it would be taken this seriously. Dad, humor's very subjective, okay? We're talking, like, multiple levels of interpretation here."

His father's gaze cut to Amber and she stepped forward slowly as if pulled by the weight of his glare.

"You and Stiles have a pretty similar sense of humor," Sheriff Stilinski pointed out, "How would you interpret the situation? You think it was funny?" He questioned sternly.

"I, um.." She bit down on her lip as her eyes bounced between her boyfriend and his father, "Not.. Not wildly funny."

'Traitor' Stiles motioned with his lips silently, shaking his head at her cowardice under his father's attention.

"Uh huh," Sheriff Stilinski looked between them with narrowed eyes for a moment before refocusing on his son, "Well, uh, how exactly am I supposed to interpret the stolen prison transport van, huh?"

Stiles spluttered, hands waving around wildly, "We filled the tank!"

His father raised his hands with a deep breath as he stepped away, removing himself from the conversation entirely with a shake of his head and leaving the two of them alone in the narrow hall.

"A prank?" Amber hissed, landing a hard punch to her boyfriend's shoulder, "You told them it was a prank?"

"What? Like you had a better excuse lined up?" He questioned while he rubbed at the sore spot on his arm. Amber's face pinched as she tried to quickly come up with something and Stiles nodded at her after a few seconds of silence, "Yeah, that's what I thought, smartass."

Her eyes narrowed at his words, "You are infuriating sometimes, y'know that?" She muttered quietly.

Stiles' lips pulled into a slow grin, his cheek dimpling as his eyes flicked over her frustrated expression. He noted the way she'd petulantly crossed her arms before his gaze trailed back up to her face, "Infuriating in a way that kinda makes you wanna kiss me to shut me up?" He questioned in quiet optimism.

She glared despite the flutter in her stomach at his words, "No."

Stiles took a step closer, his palms dragging softly up and down over her upper arms, "You sure? Because I could keep saying infuriating things if that'll-"

"Move!" Ms. McCall yelled at her son sharply as she shoved him out of the interrogation room and they stepped out into the hall, "It's not just this. Although, a restraining order is a new low that I didn't think you would reach quite this soon." She scolded loudly.

Amber and Stiles both winced as Scott followed closely behind his mother, the family unit walking a few steps past where the couple had been loitering.

"-It's everything on top of it!" Ms. McCall continued, spinning around to face her son with a disappointed look, "The completely bizarre behavior, the late nights coming home, having to beg Mr. Harris to let you make up that Chemistry test that you missed-"

"I missed a Chemistry test?" Scott questioned in genuine confusion.

"Really, Scott? Really?" His mother shook her head with a deep sigh, "I- I have to ground you. I'm grounding you. You.. Are grounded."

Amber blinked in surprise. She couldn't remember a single time in their lives when Scott's mom had been angry enough with him to do such a thing. He'd been punished, sure – lots of times – but never to the point of a grounding.

"What about work?" Scott questioned immediately.

"Fine. Other than work." His mother acquiesced, "And no TV." She added as an afterthought.

Scott merely shrugged, "My TV's broken."

Amber shook her head silently and tried to catch his eye, pleading for her best friend to shut up.

"Then no computer." Ms. McCall said easily.

"..I need the computer for school." Scott said slowly.

His mother's face pinched in annoyance, "Then no, uh.." Her gaze drifted over Scott's shoulder, eyes catching on her son's best friends. Her face seemed to light up with an idea, "No Stiles and no Amber."

Amber squeaked in protest, "Wh-"

"No Stiles?" Stiles repeated, voice high.

"No! No Stiles! No Amber!" Ms. McCall repeated with more authority than before, looking back to her son again, "And no more car privileges. Give me your key-"

Scott reared a small step back in response to his mother's words, "But-"

"Give 'em to me!" Ms. McCall snapped.

Scott pulled his keyring from the pocket of his jeans and handed it over weakly. The three teens all watched his mother pulled frantically at the split ring, trying to separate the pieces enough to slip the car key off of the loop with clumsy fingers and working herself up further the more that she struggled.

"Oh, for the love of God." Ms. McCall muttered with a frustrated sniffle.

Scott reached out toward her with caution, "Mom, do you want me to-"

"No." His mother snapped.

"Mom, come on. Just let me- Mom!" Scott pleaded, his hand wrapping around her shaking ones to grip the keys, "Mom."

Ms. McCall sniffled again and Amber took a small step back, her knuckles knocking lightly against Stiles' before he tangled their fingers together wordlessly.

"What is going on with you?" Ms. McCall asked quietly, "Is this about Allison?"

Scott turned his head to shoot his friends a pleading look and Amber instinctively chewed at her lower lip, knowing exactly how badly Scott wanted to come clean about all of the supernatural crap that had suddenly infiltrated their lives.

"Do you really wanna know?" Scott asked his mom slowly.

Stiles began to shake his head vehemently at Scott as Ms. McCall begged her son to explain what his problem was. Scott looked to his friends desperately once more and Amber gave him a small shrug as Stiles continued to silently display his disapproval.

"-Is this about your dad?" Ms. McCall asked weakly.

The question seemed to catch him off guard and Scott was still trying to decide on his next words when his mom continued.

"It is, isn't it?" Her gaze caught on Amber and Stiles still hovering just a few feet away and her posture straightened up with a final sniffle, "Okay, you know what? Um, we'll talk about this at home. I'm- I'm gonna go get the car."

They all watched her go with varying expressions of dismay and Scott waited until the door at the end of the hallway sealed shut with a click before turning to face his friends fully.

"I'm the worst son ever." Scott said with a shattered look.

"Well, I'm not exactly winning any prizes either." Stiles countered easily.

"It's gonna be okay," Amber assured them, her voice coming out sounding less firm than she'd intended, "It- It is gonna be okay, right?" She asked after a moment as she looked between them anxiously.

Stiles wrapped his arm around her neck, their joined hands coming up to rest at her shoulder as he pulled her into his chest, words muffled slightly in her hair, "Yeah. Yeah, everything's gonna be fine."

Upon arriving home, Amber was entirely surprised to find her brother standing in their living room. His shift had only started at the fire station a few hours before, so she wasn't expecting to see him for another eighteen hours, but he was currently dragging his feet across the hardwood restlessly as he paced back and forth across the space.

His attention snapped up at the sound of the front door closing as Amber dropped her keys onto the table in the entryway, his face pinching in a tight frown the moment his gaze found her.

"Jase..?" She asked cautiously as she toed off her shoes, "Is uh, is everything okay?"

"Get in here. And sit." He demanded, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the couch.

"Okay.." She said slowly, stepping into the room, "What's-"

"Amber Evangeline Callisto-"

The girl's eyes widened at the use of her full name, something she was nearly certain she hadn't heard in a scolding since their mother had been alive.

"-Sit. Down." Jason finished sternly, the volume of his voice was wholly surprising and Amber's butt landed on the couch immediately.

"I- Um, I'm going to take a wild guess from the fact that you're, y'know, here, and the deeply pissed off look on your face.. And assume that Sheriff Stilinski called you?" She pulled her socked feet up underneath herself on the cushions nervously, eyes focused on her brother's stiff jaw as he clenched it in anger.

Jason ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands as he looked around the room and neither confirmed nor denied her assumtion, "Am I supposed to confiscate your phone and take away your car keys?" He questioned frantically, "Lock you in your bedroom and just.. Homeschool you? Is that what it's gonna take to keep your ass out of trouble, or what?"

She balked, "I- I'm not even in trouble! Jackson only filed for restraining orders against-"

"If you honestly think that I am gonna believe you didn't have anything to do with this so-called 'joke' your knucklehead best friends pulled-" He took an angry breath that sounded loudly through his nose, "Do you think that I'm stupid? Or just insanely fucking unobservant?"

"Well, I -"

"Amber, I am fucking trying here, okay?" His voice cracked and Amber felt a little like her heart might have cracked too as she watched her brother's internal struggle, "I feel like I'm just watching you kids spiral out of control and I don't know what I'm supposed to do about it-"

"You don't- You're not doing anything wrong-"

"Well clearly I am!" He yelled suddenly. His own shout seemed to catch him off guard and he sat down on the edge of the coffee table in front of her with a sigh, "I- I don't know what I'm doing. It's been four years and I still feel like I'm fucking drowning sometimes, trying to be your parent and your brother at the same time."

"I'm sorry." She spoke quietly, her voice thick with unshed tears as her eyes welled.

"I don't want you to apologize. I want you to stop getting into trouble.. To stop showing up at all of these crime scenes, and inserting yourself into murder investigations, and-"

"I- I don't know what to say." She admitted quietly as a few tears broke free and rolled down her cheeks.

Even she were to try and explain, Amber didn't know where she could possibly start.

She could start with Derek; how he'd come back into town and started showing up everywhere all suspicious-like before revealing that he was a werewolf and that Scott was no longer her sweet best friend, but instead, a genuine danger to be around. She could tell him about Peter; explain that he hadn't been as weak and incapacitated as everyone had initially thought and that, really, this whole thing had all started with him. She could mention how Allison's family played into it all; the heinous things her aunt had done before her demise and all of the things her father and grandfather were still a part of now. She could tell her brother about all of the new teenage werewolves running around town and the murderous rampage her classmate had unknowingly undertaken and okay, yes, she'd helped kidnap him but they'd had no other choice because Jackson was seriously dangerous and he didn't even know what he was doing-

Amber couldn't find it in her to voice any of those things, however. Instead, she gnawed on her lower lip and sniffled quietly as she guiltily avoided her brother's gaze, settling back into the couch with the acceptance that the evening was only destined to get more difficult.

"Did Lydia finish translating the entry about the kanima?" A hushed voice questioned from only a few inches behind Amber, causing the girl to flinch in surprise.

"Jesus," Amber exclaimed as she spun around, locker door slamming shut when her shoulder collided with the cool metal, "A bell. You need a bell."

Allison rolled her eyes with a fond smile and crossed her arms over her chest, "Well? Did she?"

With a nod of her head, Amber pulled a crisp, brand new composition notebook from her bag and held it out toward the other girl.

"She did. I went over first thing this morning to get it. She's, uh, pretty annoyed with us, but she did it."

Allison studied the words on the pages with determined focus for a few moments before pulling a tablet from her own bag and motioning for Amber to hold the journal for her. Amber dutifully held her arms out to display the pages, flipping through them slowly as Allison photographed the information to create a digital copy.

"Have you shown Scott or Stiles yet?" Allison asked as she finished.

Amber slapped the book shut and slipped it back into her bookbag with a shake of her head, "I was on my way now. They're waiting in the library."

"I'll come with you." Allison said easily, adjusting the strap of her shoulder bag and moving in the direction of the library while still studying the photographs she'd taken of the notebook pages.

As they pushed through the double-doors, Amber's eyes peered through the spaces between bookshelves, flicking over the students spread out at tables trying to finish up last minute assignments before the start of morning classes.

She toyed with her lower lip between her teeth as she searched for her best friends and when she finally spotted them, Scott and Stiles were tucked at the back of one of the stacks having a hushed conversation. As she approached, hand absentmindedly dragging over her boyfriend's shoulder and up to his neck, her fingertips dug into his skin softly as she stepped up beside them.

Her backpack hit the ground at the base of the bookshelf and their attention turned to her, Stiles' eyebrows raising a fraction as he took her in for the first time that morning.

"Hello," He greeted with emphasis, reaching out until the backs of his fingers could skim over the soft material of her sundress, "You're looking spring-y."

He pinched the hem between his thumb and forefinger, his knuckles brushing against the smooth skin of her bare thigh as he idly rubbed at the fabric.

"Thanks," She said somewhat breathlessly. Her own hand dropped to wrap lightly around his wrist in warning and she waited until he let the skirt fall back down against her legs before she continued, "I, uh, I'm trying to manifest warmer weather or something."

His lips pulled into a small smile and she felt slightly overwhelmed by the butterflies that bloomed in her stomach.

"Well, you look really beautiful." He told her softly.

"Can you guys be disgusting later?" Scott interjected in clear impatience.

The couple flinched as they were torn from the romance-heady bubble they'd somehow managed to slip into.

Amber was quick to recover and she laced her fingers with Stiles as her eyes narrowed in Scott's direction, "You're just jealous because of the whole Romeo and Juliet thing that means you can't flirt with your girlfriend unless it's in a dark creepy corridor or, like, a janitor's closet-"

"Ha," Stiles said in amusement, seconding her assessment, "What she said. The green monster's not a great look on you, buddy-"

A soft throat clearing from the other side of the bookshelf caught Amber's attention and she spotted Allison peering through a gap from the next aisle over.

"Lydia's translations.." Allison prompted gently as she pulled a book from the shelf and pretended to look at it in interest.

"Right, yeah," Amber nodded, "So Lydia gave me her translations this morning. She was up pretty late last night writing it all down for me-"

"Apparently she's not thrilled about still being left in the dark." Allison supplied quietly, sliding her tablet through the gap in books so that Scott and Stiles could peer down at the photographs she'd taken of the translated pages.

"Oh, yeah," Scott realized as his gaze found Amber, "What'd you tell her?"

Amber winced, rolling her shoulders and tightening her fingers around Stiles' hand, "Um, I'm only about thirty percent confident she bought it.. But I, uh- I told her we were a part of an online gaming community that battles mythical creatures."

Stiles perked up, "I am part of an online gaming community that battles mythical creatures." He said quietly, the words fanning out over his girlfriend's neck as he peered down at the tablet.

A breathy laugh slipped from her lips and she knocked her hip against his lightly, "Yeah, I know. I helped you figure out that part with the evil goblins, remember?"

"They were actually gnomes." Stiles corrected immediately.

Scott was shaking head at his friends in clear exasperation, "Okay, does it say how to find out who's controlling Jackson?" He questioned in an attempt to redirect the conversation.

"Not from what I read." Allison frowned, swapping the book in her hands for another as she tried to hide the fact that she was conversing with them.

"But Stiles was right about the murderers." Amber revealed.

"Yes!" He cheered excitedly, dropping his girlfriend's hand to punch the air at the small victory.

Scott and Allison both narrowed their eyes at him for his slightly too loud reaction and his hands slowly lowered under the weight of their glare. Amber shuffled closer as he deflated and his arm slipped beneath her cardigan to wrap around her waist, pulling her into his side as she continued to share the information she'd recently obtained.

"The bestiary calls the kanima a 'weapon of vengeance'," She recited quietly, "There's a story in there about this South American priest who used the kanima to execute murderers in his village-"

"Alright, see?" Stiles interrupted, "That's not so bad."

Amber leaned more heavily against him with a grimace, "-Until their bond grew so strong that it eventually just killed whoever he wanted it to. Murderer or not." She finished.

"All bad," Stiles backtracked, "All very, very bad."

"Thing is, though-" Amber continued quietly, dragging her finger lightly over a sentence displayed on the tablet, "The kanima's actually supposed to be a werewolf. But, it can't be until-"

"'Until it resolves that in its past which manifested it.'" Scott read aloud.

"Okay, if that means Jackson could use a few thousand hours of therapy, I could've told you that myself." Stiles said with a roll of his eyes.

Amber sighed, "Yeah, no shit. The guy's basically unresolved anger and toxic masculinity all wrapped up in a stupidly handsome bow-"

"Euck, handsome?" Stiles repeated with a displeased frown.

"Oh, be quiet," She scolded him, turning in his grip to brush her lips lightly over the corner of his mouth, "You're the most handsome." She whispered quietly against his cheek.

With a satisfied huff, Stiles slid his arm up around her shoulders to tug her back against his chest, releasing his exhale into the loose waves of her hair to hide his grin.

"What if it has to do with Jackson's parents?" Allison pondered, "He's adopted, right? So maybe its something to do with his real parents."

Scott nodded in agreement, "Does anybody actually know what happened to them?" He questioned, eyes flicking to Amber curiously as he spoke.

"I mean.. I know he never really knew them. He was adopted as a baby. Like, really young, I'm pretty sure-" She said slowly, face pinched up in thought, "But, I- Lydia might know more."

"Great," Stiles nodded, "You guys talk to Lydia and Scott and I'll talk to Jackson-"

"Nope. Not gonna work." Amber interrupted with a shake of her head. "Restraining order." She reminded him.

He sighed in annoyance, "God, fine. Then what-"

"During free period, you go talk to Lydia," She told Stiles, "Allison and I will team up to talk to Jackson. And Scott-" The boy in question looked at her with wide eyes, ready for whatever job his best friend was about to dole out, "Scott's gonna go and ace his Chem make-up test."

He made a face like he was going to argue but his girlfriend cut in quickly.

"Scott, she's right." Allison said softly, reaching through the gap in the bookshelf to take Scott's hand.

He sighed in reluctance, "If he does anything, you both run the other way." He said seriously, looking back and forth between the two girls.

"We can take care of ourselves." Allison whispered with a frown.

"I'm serious," Scott whispered, "If either one of you gets hurt while I'm taking some stupid test, someone's gonna need to take care of me," His jaw clenched, hand tightening around Allison's as his eyes continued to bounce between them, "If he does anything-"

Amber scoffed, "Like-?"

"Anything.. Weird. Bizarre. Anything-"

"Anything evil." Stiles interrupted finally, arm tightening around his girlfriend.

"We'll be fine," Amber told both boys, "This is serious, okay? If either of you guys get in trouble for breaking the restraining order, it could mean serious, like, legal consequences. And, Scott, You know you need to retake this test to bring your grade up." She said firmly.

Scott groaned but nodded, pulling his backpack onto his shoulders as they all slowly broke away from one another and filed out of the library.

"We, uh.. We're totally sure it's safe for you and Allison to be talking to Jackson alone?" Stiles worried privately as they stopped in front of his locker.

"We'll be fine," She assured him in a soft voice, "And besides, it's kind of our only option right now-"

"Yeah. Because those are reassuring words." Stiles muttered sarcastically, yanking his locker open to grab his books for English.

"Okay, worry wort. I'm pretty sure we've established that he doesn't actually want to kill any of us," She reminded him as he slammed the metal door shut again, "I mean, if he wanted to kill me, I'd be dead like three times over at this point, right?"

His face scrunched in clear reluctance to agree with her, "Yeah, I guess."

She reached out to cup the side of his face, her thumb skimming over the tiny constellation of moles that created a path toward his mouth. The tip of her finger had barely brushed the corner of his lips when Stiles leaned in to press them to her own in a quick kiss.

As they finally turned to head in the direction of the English classroom, they only managed to get a few steps from Stiles' locker before a familiar voice was calling out loudly behind them.

"Stilinski! Amber! Wait, I- Hold up!"

They both turned as there was a loud crash. Ben Davis slammed his shoulder into the lockers beside them in what both looked and sounded like a painful collision. He rubbed at his shoulder with a frown as he righted himself and looked between Amber and Stiles wide-eyed.

"Davis," Stiles greeted with a wince, "Listen, if this is about the ball that almost hit you in the junk this morning at practice, you should know that I haven't perfected my backhand and I swear it was-"

Ben shook his head in surprise, "What? No. Stilinski, you're fine." He assured the other boy before turning his attention toward Amber, "I actually, really need to talk to you, if that's cool-"

She frowned at the urgency in his voice and began to step forward when Stiles pulled her back with a hand fisted in her cardigan.

"And what exactly do you need to talk to my girlfriend about?" Stiles questioned suspiciously.

"I, uh-" Ben's gaze flicked between them nervously, "Just.. A thing?"

Amber held up a finger in a signal for Ben to give her a moment and spun around to face Stiles, stepping close to give them more privacy as she spoke, "Stiles. Babe, I'll catch up with you in a few?" She whispered in question.

His eyes flicked between her and the spot over her shoulder where Ben was standing behind her and a small noise of distress slipped past her boyfriend's lips.

"But he-" When Amber brought a hand up to rest on his shoulder, he continued in a whisper of his own, "I could stay.. Just as backup, y'know. In case you need me. In case he tries to make a move or-"

Ben's snort of laughter from behind her let them know that he'd heard the hushed comment.

"Dude, when I tell you that you have nothing to worry about between me and Amber-" Ben started in amusement, "I am very, like, keenly aware of how into you she is. I know we went on a date but I mean, she literally said-"

Amber could tell that he was only a second away from bringing up her embarrassing slip of tongue at the end of their tragic date the month before and she turned her head to shoot him a warning glare, causing Ben's words to cut off sharply. When she deemed it safe, she turned back to Stiles again.

"You're sweet and it is stupidly cute, but you really don't need to worry about Ben, alright?" She said even more quietly.

Stiles' lips pulled up reluctantly, "Yeah, okay."

She couldn't hold back a grin, endlessly endeared by his protectiveness. She leaned in to press a chaste kiss to his lips before giving him a pat on his cheek, "Okay, cool. So I'll catch up with you later then."

Stiles pinched her chin between his forefinger and thumb to tip her head back up again and she went easily. Their lips met in another kiss, this one lingering for a moment before she pushed him away with a flustered laugh.

"Alright, I'm going!" Stiles said, raising his hands in surrender as he turned to leave.

When she turned to face Ben again, she was still sporting a faint blush and giddy smile that wouldn't seem to fade.

"So, what's up? What's the gossip?" She joked, hoping to lighten the mood when she noticed the stressed expression on his face once again.

"I wanted to talk to you about Matt." He said in a hushed voice.

"Daehler?" She asked curiously, frowning when he nodded, "What about him?"

Ben wiped his hands on his jeans as if his palms were sweaty and he looked around them cautiously before speaking, "I, uh.. I saw some pictures on his camera that were kinda.. Um. Well, they were of you-"

"Oh!" She relaxed, "That's what you're all worked up about? It's fine. I know about the pictures."

Ben blinked, faltering for a moment, "You.. You know about the pictures?" He repeated slowly.

"Yeah," She waved off, "He's good with a camera.. It's art — No big deal. It's kinda flattering, honestly, the way he knows how to frame his pictures just right? It's like I'm a model or something except, y'know, all his photos are candid."

"So.." Ben drew out the word, eyes squinting in disbelief, "You know he's been taking these.. Candid pictures, and you're.. Cool with it?" He asked slowly.

She reached out to pat Ben on his broad shoulder with a laugh, "Yes. I'm totally cool with it. He was worried I would think it was creepy, but like I said, it's art. I can appreciate that, y'know? I was actually thinking that if he gets another really good one, I might ask for a copy? Get it printed out and maybe I could frame it and give it to Stiles as a part of his birthday present or something.. That might be cool.." She shook her head as she began to get lost in her thoughts, laughing again quietly, "Anyway, my point is, don't worry about it."

Ben's previously tense shoulders seemed to slump in relief, "I- Okay, then. I just- My bad, I guess." He blew out a long breath through his lips and shrugged awkwardly.

"I seriously appreciate your concern, though," She said honestly, "It was really cool of you to come to me."

He nodded with a serious look, "Yeah, of course. I'm just glad I came to you first instead of, like, immediately confronting Matt and giving him shit about it-"

"Oh, god, yeah!" She nodded in realization.

Ben shook his head, taking a small step back, "Right. So, y'know.. See ya later-"

She waved and bid him goodbye, watching him go with a small smile, grateful that things had been cleared up.

When free period rolled around, Amber and Allison followed as stealthily as they could manage behind Jackson, lurking in the nonexistent shadows as they waited for the right moment to corner him. They kept a safe distance as he walked into the east wing of the school, heading toward the locker rooms and the gymnasium, on his way to get more lacrosse in even after the team's morning practice.

As they entered the more deserted area of the school, devoid of voices and the laughter that had drowned out their steps before, Allison slipped her heels off to quiet her footfalls beside Amber, opting to hold them in her hand instead.

The two girls loitered as he practiced shooting on goal with Danny. When they finally headed back inside, the girls peeked around a corner to watch Jackson enter the boy's locker room as Danny headed in the opposite direction down the hall.

Amber reached for the door handle as they got to the already closed locker room door, but both girls reeled back in shock and a touch of fear when it swung open from the other side just as Amber's fingers brushed the metal.

"You just scared the hell out of me!" Matt Daehler laughed as he exited the locker room while Amber tried to calm her now-racing heart.

"Sorry!" She apologized with a breathless laugh, "Holy shit. I, uh- We we're just-"

"-Nothing," Allison interrupted weakly, "We were just, um, nothing.."

Matt blinked at them in confusion and shook his head, gaze dropping down to the shoes still clutched between Allison's fingers, "Uh, nice heels." He commented with a curious eyebrow raise.

"Oh!" Allison realized, having forgotten she was holding the footwear at all, "Yeah, uh-"

"Her feet were hurting." Amber supplied quickly.

Matt shrugged with a grin, "Same reason I never wear mine." He agreed jokingly.

Amber laughed in surprised amusement and Matt's smile seemed to brighten at the sound.

"Uh, hey.. Did you hear about the underground show?" He asked, eyes focused solely on Amber as he fiddled with the strap of the backpack over his shoulder, "Apparently they've got some big names spinning."

"Spinning-?" Amber repeated the word in confusion.

"Yeah, y'know.. DJ's." Matt clarified.

The pieces clicked together slowly in Amber's mind, "Oh, like a.. Rave?"

Matt scoffed with a smile, "Is it still a rave if you don't roll?" He questioned, "I just call it a party but- Hey! I've got a friend who can hook us up with tickets, if you're down. Y-you want me to get you one?" He asked her hopefully.

"Oh, um-" She frowned, "I don't- I mean, y'know Stiles and I are together-"

"Oh sure, yeah," Matt interrupted, "No, I know, but.. We could still go together as friends, right?"

Amber hesitated, "I mean, yeah, but- Parties like that aren't really my-"

"It'd be really fun, I swear." He promised with a hopeful smile.

Allison nudged at Amber's shoulder anxiously with a nod toward the locker room door to remind Amber of the task at hand.

"I, um- Just as friends?" Amber repeated quickly.

"Yeah, yeah. Just friends," Matt agreed, "I, uh, I could get both of you a ticket?" He suggested, gaze finally drifting over to Allison.

"Uh, fine, yeah," Amber agreed finally, her eyes flicking anxiously toward the locker room, "Sure."

"Cool! Um, it's Friday so I'll get the tickets and-" Matt stepped around them to begin his retreat down the hallway toward the main part of the building, "-Looking forward to it."

As he disappeared around a corner, Amber locked eyes with Allison and saw the other girl was frowning, "That kinda sounded like a date." Allison said quietly.

Amber scoffed, "Which part, exactly? The part where we talked about how I have a boyfriend, the part where we both agreed to go just as friends, or the part where he offered to get you a ticket too?"

Allison's lips were parted with a retort at the ready when there was a sudden ragged coughing from inside the locker room as if Jackson were choking.

"Shit-! Go get Scott," Amber told Allison with wide eyes. The other girl looked like she wanted to fight her on it and Amber shook her head as Jackson's choked noises grew more pained, "Alli, come on. He could be either hurt or going full kanima in there- I'm serious. Jackson won't hurt me but you need to go and get Scott. He's more attuned to you anyway, he'll probably hear you coming before you even get out of the stairwell."

Allison scrunched her face, "Fine. Just.. Be careful." She huffed before turning to run down the hallway.

Amber dropped her unzipped backpack to the ground carelessly, throwing the locker room door open with a bang as she stumbled through the doorway. She listened for sounds of distress, but the noises that Jackson had been making only moments before were gone, now replaced with the quiet sound of running water from the showers at the far side of the room.

"Jackson?" She called out cautiously, slightly worried for the boy as she moved through the rows of lockers in search, "Jackson?"

"In here." Jackson's voice supplied casually from the direction of the showers.

Amber's feet carried her that much faster, converse slapping against the tiles as she headed toward his voice. As she rounded the lockers and came to a stop in the entryway of the showers, she stumbled over her feet in surprise, quickly spinning away at the sight of Jackson's very naked body beneath the spray, staring in her direction with a blank, unaffected gaze.

Amber was staring at the row of lockers across from her with wide eyes as she leaned against the tile wall outside of the showers.

"Something wrong?" He questioned from behind her.

"I- Shit, Jackson!" She exclaimed in disbelief, "A little bit of warning when your dick is out, maybe?"

There was a high-pitched creak as he turned the knob to cut off the flow of hot water and Amber tried desperately to erase the image of Jackson's privates from her brain.

"You're the one who walked into the boy's locker room." He pointed out blankly.

"Wh- I thought I heard you-" She began to defend automatically, thinking back on the horrifying choking noises she'd heard from the hallway, "I mean, I thou- Whatever. Nevermind." She shook her head.

"Did you want to talk about something?" He questioned, his voice sounding from directly behind her now, prompting her to flinch in surprise at his close proximity.

"I- Yeah, but we can-" She huffed out a disbelieving breath as she began to step past him, "We can talk later-"

"No-" Jackson's arm shot out in front of her, his palm pressing against the tile as he caged her back against the tiled wall outside of the showers. Amber immediately forced her eyes upward to avert them from his still-naked body as it dripped with water. She was staring up at the ceiling while he quickly continued, "-Let's talk now."

Her gaze fell to his and she watched Jackson's jaw clench as he glared at her with an especially dark look. She found her heart stuttering slightly in her chest at the coldness behind his eyes.

She licked her lips in thought, "You know? I, uh- I actually should probably start heading to my next class-"

"Oh, no, no-" His face pulled into an irritated snarl and he immediately blocked her attempt to step around him, "No, you don't. You have perfect grades. You can skip one class."

She swallowed audibly at the sudden closeness of the boy's wet body to her own, their torsos practically brushing against one another. A small flash of fear filled her and she felt suddenly stupid for being so blinded by the noises that had sent her barreling into the locker room worried for Jackson's well-being and unafraid of the kanima.

The way Jackson was acting now – the way he was looking at her – It had her feeling suddenly afraid of him for reasons entirely unrelated to the kanima-fueled dangers that she'd mentally prepared herself for earlier in the day.

His gaze fell to her sternum and his lips pulled into a smirk before his eyes returned to hers, "You okay?" He asked condescendingly, "Your heart's beating like crazy."

"I'm fine." She said in a rush as she moved past him, her eyes glued to the tense lines of his body as she began to back away slowly.

"I thought you wanted to talk?" Jackson questioned teasingly, raising his eyebrows and matching her steps.

"I, uh, ch- Changed my mind." She stumbled as she spoke when she backed into one of the wooden changing benches, arms flailing for a moment as she caught her balance.

"You sure? Because you look a little stressed-" His face contorted into anger again and Amber took a shaky breath, still backing away as he continued, "Is it Stilinski? Things falling apart between you two already?"

She shook her head slightly, lips parting to speak but cut off before she could say anything.

"-Can't say it would surprise me. It's not like you two are gonna last," Jackson scoffed meanly, "You know that one day, he and Scott are gonna decide they don't need a little cunt like you always dragging them down. I mean, what teenage guy honestly wants a chick for a best friend, huh? Now that Stilinski's gotten into your pants, it's really only a matter of time."

His words cut deeper than they probably should have, and she was surprised to find her back thumping blindly against the far wall of the locker room. Amber's eyes went wide when she realized she'd unintentionally caged herself again, Jackson's naked frame towering over her as he stepped close enough that patches of her dress darkened with the water from his still dripping body.

"You're being a dick." She told him.

Jackson scoffed cruelly, "I'm being honest. And if you don't realize that then you gotta be the stupidest bitch in this town. Well, other than Scott and Stiles because they seem to be pretty stupid bitches themselves-"

"Just stop." Amber demanded with a clenched jaw, gaze drifting toward the door to the locker room as she contemplated whether or not she could make it into the hallway before he caught up to her – she wasn't entirely confident that the odds weighed in her favor.

"What are you gonna do, Amber?!" Jackson shouted, his anger seeming to grow as he leaned even closer, "When your stupid bitch of a best friend- When Scott turns on you! What are you gonna do!"

His fists slammed into the wall on either side of her head and she couldn't hold back a quiet whimper as she flinched in fear, her wide eyes glued to the blind rage that had overtaken his face.

"They almost killed Lydia!" He spit the words in her face in sharp reminder, "Who do you think's gonna be next! Hm? Not you, oh no- Because you're in love with Stiles, and Scott's your best friend and he'd never let you get hurt-?" He shook his head condescendingly. His face was flooded with anger and his nose nearly brushed against hers as he continued to tear into her, "Is that what you tell yourself? Huh? If that's what you tell yourself then you're already dead."

One of Jackson's hands left the wall behind her, sharp claws now on display. He stroked them delicately down the length of Amber's cheek before pausing at the edge of her jawline, the sharp points poking at the skin of her throat just light enough that, while they didn't cut through her flesh, the threat was evident. Jackson's lips pulled back in another terrifying snarl and Amber found her heart racing anxiously at the combined feeling of the tips of his claws against her cheek and his naked body against her.

"Tell me, if your big bad werewolf of a best friend really cared, would he really let you walk around without any way to protect yourself?" Jackson's hand drifted, claws lightly skimming farther down the length of her throat as he spoke.

"I, um," She licked her lips as her body trembled anxiously, trying to work up the nerve to do what she needed to, "I wouldn't say I'm totally helpless-"

She threw her arms up and out to shove his hands away from her, thrusting her leg up sharply in the same moment to slam her knee into his naked groin. When he stumbled back half a step in surprise, she moved to rush past him, but she was yanked back roughly by her arm before she could make it more than a step away. Her cardigan tore from her shoulder as he spun her back around and suddenly they were falling through the air. Her back slammed down onto the ground and a pained grunt slipped past her lips as Jackson's weight landed heavily on top of her.

The moment they collided and his naked body pinned her to the floor, Jackson's eyes were widening, lips parted in surprise as if he'd suddenly been broken from a trance.

"Amber?" He questioned in panicked confusion as he scrambled to his feet frantically, "What are you doing here?"

The girl's heart was sill pounding in her chest too heavily for her to formulate a response. Her lips parted in a loss for words as she shuffled along the floor to put space between them. Her back hit the wall and the cold tile pressed against her bare shoulder where her sweater and the thin strap of her dress were still askew, the fabric dangling loosely down her arm. She watched as Jackson reached for a discarded pair of athletic shorts on the changing bench and moved to cover himself.

The locker room door swung open before she could respond and her wide eyes cut across the room to see Scott standing in the doorway, his gaze flicking back and forth between where she was on the floor, looking disheveled and afraid, and where Jackson was still pulling a pair of shorts over his naked legs with frantic movements.

"I- I'm fine," She assured her best friend quickly, "I'm fi-"

Her words didn't seem to quell the way that Scott's face morphed into one of blind fury. It was only then that Amber realized exactly how bad the scene in front of him appeared.

Without a moment of hesitation, Scott was storming toward Jackson furiously and Amber clumsily climbed to her feet as she watched her best friend shove Jackson back through the air with enough force that a row of lockers caved when the boy's body slammed into them.

"No, Scott! Scott, stop! I'm fine!" She repeated quickly.

Jackson righted himself with a renewed rage, "I. Have. A. Restraining order!"

"Trust me, I restrained myself." Scott retorted angrily.

In a blink, Jackson was tackling Scott and Amber watched in distress as they began to throw one another around the locker room with superhuman strength. They moved toward the showers at the back of the room and she heard an unmistakable crack as the tiles shattered from the force of their brawl.

Jackson stepped back into view, breathing heavily and scowling at Amber where she was still standing wide eyed at the front of the room, but before he could make it more than a few steps toward her, Scott was launching himself out of the showers and sending him hurtling back toward the weight benches.

"You guys, seriously! Stop!" Amber pleaded as she watched Jackson grab a forty-five pound weight, his fingers wrapping around the plate and launching it in Scott's direction as if it weighed nothing at all.

Amber squeaked as her hands came up to cover her mouth, but Scott caught the weight before it could crash into his chest.

He didn't get a moment to recover. Jackson rushed forward to kick him back into the wall, tiles cracking beneath Scott's weight only seconds before he was thrown into the row of sinks along the wall.

The porcelain shattered with a loud crash, water spraying from the burst pipes as the boys continued to throw one another back and forth across the room.

"Guys!" She tried again, voice hitching slightly. Her back hit the wall when they moved closer as she tried to stay away from the action, "Guys, stop!"

As if she hadn't spoken at all, the two continued to shove and kick at each other and Amber's heart pounded anxiously in her chest with each minute that passed, growing more and more worried that one of them might truly get hurt. Her hands scrambled as she patted herself down in search of her cell phone, a disbelieving whine leaving her lips when she realized it was in her backpack in the hallway due to the lack of pockets in her attire.

Jackson sent a final hard kick to Scott's chest and Amber watched her friend slam against the locker room door with a loud crash, the door tearing from its hinges as Scott fell back on top of it and into the hallway.

Amber rushed behind Jackson when he immediately stormed out of the room after Scott, the girl finding Erica already restraining Jackson and pulling him off of Scott. Stiles was attempting to hold Scott back while he tried to charge forward again and Amber pushed her hands against Scott's chest as Stiles wrapped his arms around him.

"Scott!" She pleaded, "Seriously, Scott, I-"

"What the hell is going on!"

Amber's eyes pinched shut in disbelief of their luck as she heard Mr. Harris yelling down the hallway, his footfalls growing louder as he stormed toward them.

"Hey!" The teacher shouted when he saw the boys still fighting against the students that were attempting to keep them apart, "Enough!"

Jackson and Scott seemed to deflate at the sound of their Chemistry teacher's angry yelling, both boys slumping against the arms holding them back as they finally stopped fighting.

"What do you idiots think you're doing?" Mr. Harris yelled, looking between the group of teens with a scowl, "Mr. McCall? Care to explain yourself?" He questioned sharply before his eyes drifted to the two teens who had released him but were still standing beside their friend, "Callisto? Stilinski?"

Amber swallowed loudly and looked around, but the entire group remained silent for a long moment.

"..You dropped this." Matt's voice cut in awkwardly, stepping from behind Mr. Harris and handing Amber's unzipped backpack to her.

Her notebook of bestiary translations was laying at the top of her books in a way that she hadn't quite remembered it being when she'd stuffed it into her bag earlier. As she took her backpack from him, she winced at the water dripping from the fabric due to the leak that had flowed out of the locker room and into the hallway.

"You, and you," Mr. Harris pointed between Jackson and Scott before shaking his head and letting his eyes rake across the group again, his gaze even drifting to where Matt was hovering behind him for a moment, "Actually.. All of you. Detention. Three o'clock."

They all slumped at the announcement of their punishment, Jackson shooting them a dark glare before storming off behind their teacher and Matt as they retreated. The moment that the hallway had cleared out, Scott was rounding on Amber with a furious glare.

"What the heck were you thinking?!" He snapped.

She flinched underneath his anger suddenly directed at her and took a small step back from him, "Wh-"

"Why would you guys split up?" He asked loudly, barely glancing at his girlfriend before he was glaring at Amber again, "That was the stupidest, most reckless-"

"Hey, Scott.." Stiles interrupted Scott's enraged scolding to move between them, nudging Scott back a step, "Take it down a notch, man."

"You didn't see the way-" Scott shook his head, his anger seeming to fade suddenly into concern in the time it took him to inhale and exhale. He moved forward again, "I- Amber, are you alright?"

"I- I'm fine, Scott," She promised, taking Stiles' hand gratefully when his fingers nudged against hers in offering, "I told you-"

Scott's chest heaved as he took a breath to keep calm, "If he.. I swear to god I'm gonna kill him-"

"Scott, stop." Amber interrupted, "It seriously wasn't what it looked like, okay? He didn't-"

"What did it look like?" Stiles questioned in confusion, he and Allison both slightly lost in the conversation.

Scott let out another sharp breath, "It looked like Jackson was-"

"I know what it looked like!" Amber cut him off again frantically, not wanting to hear the words, "Scott he was just yelling at me, okay? He was being an asshole but he wasn't going to- He-" She took a shaky breath, "He wasn't going to do anything. Not what you're thinking. He wasn't going to do.. that."

"Do what?"

Allison and Stiles voiced the words at the same time, the former still sounding confused and the latter simply exasperated at being left out.

Scott didn't speak, but he held eye contact with Amber for a long moment as if he were trying to search her face for any trace of a lie, even after having listened to the way her heartbeat remained steady while she'd spoken the words. He nodded slowly in indication that he believed her, his shoulders slumping from their rigid stance. Amber took a small step forward to pull him into a one armed hug, her other hand still extended behind her with Stiles' fingers trapped in her grip.

"I'm okay," She murmured quietly into his ear, "But regardless, I'm glad you came when you did," She said slightly louder as she released him and stepped back, "Did- Did you do okay on your makeup test? Did me and Stiles' flash cards help?"

There was a pause before he responded and she frowned at his moment of hesitation.

"I, uh, yeah. Totally. They definitely helped!" Scott said after a moment with a bit too much enthusiasm.

Amber groaned, her head rolling back on her shoulders, "You weren't finished and you bombed it to get down here and help me, didn't you?"

Scott winced, "Yeah."

Amber sighed, her grip tightening around Stiles' hand as she shook her head to clear away negative thoughts, "It's fine, it's totally fine! Y'know why? We- New game plan! Stiles and I will help you with some extra credit work instead and your grade will just-" She pulled at Stiles' wrist as she slapped her free palm against their joined hands, imitating something shooting up into the air, "We can still fix this."

At the end of the day, Amber was surprised by a pair of arms wrapping around her waist from behind, warmth filling her chest as the scent of Stiles' cologne washed over her. His mouth pressed softly against the side of her neck and Amber's breath stuttered at the feeling. She abandoned the book she'd been pulling from her locker to reach back toward him, fingers wrapping around the back of his neck as she tipped her head at an awkward angle to catch his lips with her own.

"Mm, hello." She greeted quietly against his mouth.

"Hi," Stiles grinned, his arms tightening around her ribs as she turned back to collect her World History textbook, "You ready for detention?"

"As ready as one can be for punishment in the form of forced labor." She zipped up her backpack and closed her locker as she turned in her boyfriend's arms. Her back hit the lockers softly as Stiles leaned into her space to press his lips against hers again in a quick kiss.

"We're going to reshelve a couple books. It's not exactly punitive labor." He commented in amusement, prying her backpack from her fingers and releasing her so that he could drape the strap over his shoulder atop his own bag.

She took his hand in hers and rolled her eyes, "Didn't anyone ever tell you that you're supposed to agree with your girlfriend no matter what? Even when you think she's wrong or being ridiculous or batshit crazy?"

"I dunno, I think that might be a myth.." Stiles teased with a barely concealed grin as they headed toward the library.

"I'm just saying.. Maybe you should look into it-" She couldn't fight the smile that pulled at her own lips as his thumb ran softly back and forth along the back of her hand. She changed the subject with a quiet huff, "D'you think Erica really kept all the kanima stuff about Jackson a secret after you talked to her earlier? That she didn't tell Derek?"

Stiles sighed, "I freakin' hope so. You guys only just convinced me that we shouldn't kill him, it'd be a real bummer now if Derek just ripped his throat out anyway."

She winced, "That's.. Graphic."

"Sorry," Stiles made a face, "But, I mean- Wouldn't be the first time, would it? The guy didn't even hesitate when it was his own uncle-"

"That's a little different, I think-" She defended weakly, "I mean, his uncle was a psychopath whereas Jackson's technically one of Derek's Betas. Or, y'know, he would be if he didn't have so much repressed shit-"

"You think Derek being the one to give him the bite would really make him think twice?" Stiles questioned, pulling open the library doors and letting Amber step through first.

She shrugged, "I wouldn't necessarily count on it, but there's no harm in hoping, right?"

She dropped into a chair across the table from where Scott was already sitting and Stiles was quick to claim the one beside her.

"Oh, um, we can't be in detention together," Jackson told Mr. Harris as he sat down in the seat behind Amber, "I have a restraining order against these tools."

"All of these tools?" Their teacher asked with an unimpressed look, eyes flicking over their table.

"No, just us tools." Stiles supplied with a sigh, pointing between himself and Scott.

"Fine. Jackson, sit there," Mr. Harris said with an eye roll, gesturing to the empty seat at the table where Matt and Allison were sitting on the other side of the room before focusing back on the other teens as Erica sat down at an unoccupied table behind the teacher, "You two keep your distance from him."

Their teacher's attention left them to focus elsewhere and Scott took the opportunity to lean across the table, his face pinched tight in anger, "I'm gonna kill him." He stated, eyes flicking over to Jackson before refocusing on his best friends.

"No, you're not." Amber whispered.

"You're gonna find out who's controlling him." Stiles reminded him.

"-And then you're gonna help save him." Amber finished seriously.

"No," Scott whispered with a determined look, attention drifting to Stiles, "You were right. Let's kill him."

"He was not right," Amber whispered sharply, "You two are killing me. Get it together."

"Hey, I'm on your side now, remember?" Stiles defended, reaching out to pat her leg beneath the table as he spoke.

Amber gripped his hand over her bare thigh and squeezed it with a grateful nod.

"Hey, what if it's Matt?" Stiles pondered aloud after a few minutes, his eyes focussed on the boy sitting across the room beside Allison, "-I mean this whole thing comes back to the video, right? It was his camera-"

Scott shook his head, "Danny said that Matt was the one that found the two hours of footage that was missing-"

"Exactly!" Stiles whispered, raising his eyebrows as he continued to make his point, "He's trying to throw suspicion off himself."

Amber and Scott let their gazes drift across the room to watch the boy in question as he crunched on a chip from the snack bag he'd been picking at since the start of detention.

"..So he makes Jackson kill Isaac's dad, one of Argent's hunters, and the mechanic working on your Jeep?" Scott deduced in confusion.

"Yes!" Stiles hissed.

"Why would he do that?" Amber questioned incredulously.

"Because.. He's evil." Stiles supplied slowly.

She peered across the room again and watched as Matt shook his bag of chips across the table at Jackson in offering.

"Yeah, he looks like a real criminal mastermind." Amber whispered sarcastically.

"You just don't like him." Scott told Stiles with a shake of his head.

"The guy bugs me, I dunno what it is," Stiles agreed quietly, "Just.. Look at his face."

Amber pulled her hand from Stiles' with a wince and bit down on her lip, "Does that mean now is a bad time to mention that he asked me to go to that rave concert thing with him on Friday-"

Stiles shot her a look of disbelief, eye twitching as he searched for words, "He what?"

"I mean, as friends, obviously-" She added, feeling slightly guilty from the look on her boyfriend's face.

"But you said no, right?" Stiles whispered, his gaze flicking over her shoulder to scowl at Matt before returning to her face.

She scrunched her nose, "Not exactly."

Scott listened in on their interaction silently, eyes bouncing between his best friends as if he were watching a tennis match while they went back and forth.

"Well what exactly did you say, then?" Stiles followed up.

"..Yes?"

"What!" Stiles said a little too loudly, shrinking back as everyone looked over at him and repeating himself in a hushed whisper, "What?"

Amber dropped her hand over his knee with a sympathetic frown, "I made sure he knew you and I were together and that we'd just be going as friends. And in the end he offered to get a ticket for Allison too," She promised quietly, "I didn't realize you despised him quite so much or else I would've-"

"Well if I disliked him before, I freakin' loathe him now." Stiles glared over her shoulder once more.

She sighed, grip tightening on his leg, "Babe, I'm sorry, but.. I'm not canceling on him after I already agreed to go-"

"I didn't- I'm not asking you to-" Stiles huffed with a shake of his head, "Just, be careful, alright? There's something off about the guy."

She turned her head to look back at Matt again and watched as the boy finished his chips and began meticulously folding the empty bag in half over and over until it was shaped into a small square of trash that he proceeded to tuck away in the pocket of his jeans.

"Right.." Amber drew out the word quietly, unconvinced.

A silence fell over their table, the quiet stretching on for a few minutes before Jackson suddenly pushed out of his chair and began to stumble toward the library doors with a mumbled excuse about needing to use the bathroom.

"Are you alright?" Mr. Harris questioned, looking genuinely worried for the boy in a way that had Amber very nearly rolling her eyes, "You don't look so good-"

Jackson merely pushed past the teacher when they crossed paths, "I just need to get some water." He muttered as he pushed through the doors and exited the library.

Mr. Harris watched him go for only a moment before he moved to follow behind him, pausing at the doors to turn back and glare at the rest of them, "No one leaves their seats." He warned.

The moment the doors closed behind him, Amber, Scott, and Stiles all shared a look in silent communication before they wordlessly pushed up from their chairs and rushed over to the table Erica had taken up by herself.

"Stiles says you know how Jackson's parents died." Scott addressed the blonde, wasting no time with beating around the bush.

Erica looked between the three of them as they sat down and shrugged in nonchalance, "Maybe."

"Talk." Scott urged quickly.

Erica flipped her notebook closed with a sigh and leaned over the table on her elbows, "It was a car accident. My dad was the insurance investigator, and every time he sees Jackson drive by in his Porsche, he makes some comment about the huge settlement he'll be getting when he turns eighteen."

Stiles narrowed his eyes in disbelief, "So, not only is Jackson rich now, but he's getting even richer at eighteen?"

"Yup." Erica grinned at the annoyance in his voice.

"There is something so deeply wrong with that." Stiles muttered.

"The last thing that boy needs is more money to further inflate his ego." Amber agreed quietly.

"You know what?" Erica murmured, opening her laptop and clicking around on the trackpad as she navigated the screen, "I could try to find the insurance report in my dad's inbox.. He keeps everything."

"Scott McCall, Please report to the principal's office. Scott McCall. Principal's office."

Amber had pushed out of her seat and was headed to the opposite side of the table where Stiles and Erica were sitting when the announcement rang out loudly through the PA system. She frowned as she looked at her friend in question but Scott shrugged in response with a frown of his own, patting her on the shoulder as he stood and moved to head down to the front office.

Stiles spread his legs over the sides of his wide chair and Amber settled between his thighs easily so that they could both peer at the computer screen while Erica did a deep dive through her father's old emails.

As the blonde finally pulled up the message thread they were looking for a few minutes later, the doors to the library reopened with a quiet click as Jackson and Mr. Harris came back into the room, but the three teens paid no attention, continuing to read through the attachments as Erica opened them up on the screen.

"Wait, wait-" Amber whispered, her eyes suddenly catching on the words written on the copy of the insurance claim, "Look at the dates."

"Passengers arrived at the hospital DOA-" Erica read from the middle of the page, "The estimated time of death - 9:26 P.M., June 14, 1995." She finished with a questioning lilt to her voice, eyebrows lifting as if she wasn't sure what could be possibly important about that particular piece of information

"Jackson's birthday is June 15." Stiles pointed out, pulling the words straight from Amber's mouth.

Erica turned to blink at them in surprise.

The sudden zing of a zipper rang out through the room and everyone's attention was drawn to where Mr. Harris was pulling his bag over his shoulder and grabbing his things as he moved to leave early. The teens all followed suit in collective relief, beginning to gather their own belongings together before the sound of their teacher chuckling quietly made them pause.

"Oh, no, I'm sorry-" He laughed, not sounding the least bit apologetic, "Uh, yes.. I'm leaving. But none of you are," He explained, stepping up to one of the many wheeled carts stacked high with books, "You may go when you're done with the reshelving. Enjoy the rest of your evening."

Mr. Harris chuckled again as he left the room and Amber's face pinched up in disgust.

"I genuinely hate that man." She muttered, dropping down into the seat again and leaning back into Stiles' chest with a sigh.

Erica's eyes were flicking over the screen of her laptop again, still searching for something following the discovery made by Stiles and Amber.

"What?" Amber questioned after a moment.

Erica closed the lid to her computer and blinked, "They kept his mom on life support until they could get her body prepped for surgery." She explained quietly.

"Jesus." Stiles muttered.

All of their gazes drifted over to where Jackson was leaning heavily over the top of his table, looking slightly sweaty and feverishly unwell.

"You think he's good?" Amber questioned in a whisper, head tipped back onto Stiles shoulder so she could speak quietly into his ear.

Stiles shrugged behind her, "Maybe the bite's finally gonna kill him." He joked.

Amber pinched his arm between her fingers in reprimand, "Cut that out. Now, c'mon. Let's do some reshelving. I'd like to go home at some point today."

Erica rolled her eyes at the couple just as the doors were thrown open once again and Scott reemerged. He immediately came to stand where Amber was already beginning to roll one of the carts of books in the direction of the stacks, nodding his head toward Allison in a motion for her to follow them. Stiles stepped around Amber to pull the cart from the other side, grabbing a book at random once they were hidden away between the shelves and peering down at the sticker on the bottom of the binding as he searched for the place where it belonged amongst the shelved books.

"Did you guys find anything?" Scott questioned his friends as Allison stepped up beside them.

Amber grimaced as she grabbed a book of her own, "Yeah, kinda." She supplied weakly, pushing up onto her toes to shove the book onto a high shelf.

"You guys found something?" Allison repeated curiously, "About his parents?"

Amber and Stiles both nodded, looking at one another silently as they debated who should speak and eventually the girl caved with a sigh, "Well, you know they both died in a car accident-" She whispered, fighting against the flashes of painful memories that cropped up at the reminder of how her own parents had been taken from her, "But it was only a couple of hours before Jackson was born." She continued.

"What does that mean?" Scott asked in confusion.

"It means he was born after his mom died," Amber explained, "..By c-section."

"They had to pull him out of her dead body." Stiles supplied grimly.

"Oh my god." Allison whispered.

Amber nodded in agreement as she reshelved another book, "So, yeah. His parents were killed before tiny Jackson was even born into the world."

"Killed.." Allison repeated slowly, "So, was it an accident or not?"

Stiles shrugged, "The word all over the reports is 'inconclusive'."

Scott leaned on his elbows, resting his weight onto a stack of books with wide eyes, "What? His parents could've been murdered?"

Stiles nodded with another noncommittal shrug, "If they were, then it falls in line with the kanima myth, right?"

Amber nodded in agreement, "It seeks out and kills murderers but.. What, because it had a loved one who was also murdered?"

"Would that go for Jackson? Or the person controlling him?" Allison questioned in a hushed voice.

"Maybe both?" Amber pondered, "I mean, maybe that's why they bonded in the first place."

"Could be." Stiles agreed easily.

"Regardless, I don't think Jackson wants to kill anybody," Amber whispered, "I mean, if he knew what he was-"

"We have to talk to him," Scott interrupted, moving around the book cart to walk to the front of the aisle, "We have to tell him."

"I don't know if that's such a good idea," Amber countered, stepping forward to follow after him, "I don't think he's gonna listen to-" Scott left the row of shelves without another word and Amber sighed as she turned back to Allison and Stiles, "-And he's gone.. Y'know, he used to listen to me."

"Yeah, him going Teen Wolf and no longer being such a pushover is a real pain in the ass, isn't it?" Stiles lamented in agreement.

"Yes." Amber agreed in discontent.

A loud crash from a few rows over had Amber flinching in surprise, head whipping toward the commotion as another crash immediately followed, the second one sounding out slightly closer.

"Erica!" Scott yelled from another row.

Amber took a nervous step back toward Stiles as her heart picked up in her chest. The next crash sounded from directly above them as a dark blur jumped from one towering bookshelf to another, slamming into the ceiling and shattering lights as it moved. Amber brought her hands up to cover her head as small shards of glass along with styrofoam and dust from the ceiling tiles rained down over them and Stiles pulled her to the ground, wrapping one arm around her waist and positioning the other protectively over their heads.

They heard Erica let out a small scream from the next row and as Stiles lowered his arm slowly, Amber looked between him and Allison with wide eyes.

The shattered light bulbs above were sparking dangerously as electricity continued to flow into them and Amber took ahold of Stiles' wrist as the sound of wood splintering and loud crashes continued from beyond the stack that they were tucked away in.

The familiar screech of the kanima sounded out only moments before Scott was tossed back into a cart of books in need of re-shelving at the end of the bookshelves. Amber made a small, unconscious move to go toward her friend to help but Stiles tugged her back into his arms without hesitation, scolding her quietly.

Scott groaned as he righted himself and he slipped into the row of shelves upon spotting the three of them still ducked down beside the other book cart. He came to a crouch in front of them all, blocking them off from the end of the row and stretching his arms out protectively as Allison flocked to her boyfriend's back.

It was only then that Amber's eyes fell on Jackson. He was stood in front of a blackboard across the room, half-shifted in a way she'd only ever seen when he was unconscious outside of the nightclub, his skin lightly covered in scales though he remained looking mostly human. His head lolled to the side limply as he gripped a piece of chalk and began to write on the board, showing no indication that he knew what he was doing, like a puppet controlled by someone pulling at its strings.

The chalk clicked loudly against the board in the sudden silence as Jackson's unfocused yellow eyes gazed at nothing in particular across the room and Amber gripped onto Stiles that much tighter in unease. Jackson finished his messy scrawl of large letters on the board, remaining still for a terrifying moment before he launched himself out of the second story library window in a loud crash of shattering glass.

Amber let out a shaky exhale and Stiles pressed his mouth to her temple, not quite kissing her but simply panting anxious breaths into her skin as they all took in the message that had been left behind on the blackboard.

STAY OUT OF MY WAY OR I'LL KILL ALL OF YOU

The four rose to their feet, slowly stepping out from the row of bookshelves as the lights continued to flicker and spark above them. Amber's gaze drifted to the next row over as it came into view and she stumbled over her own feet at the sight of the blonde werewolf convulsing on the floor.

Amber pushed past Stiles and fell to her knees, rolling Erica over onto her back until she could see the other girl's face.

"Woah, woah- Hey!" Stiles alerted the others immediately as he followed his girlfriend's footsteps and helped her hold onto Erica while the girl thrashed.

"She's having a seizure-" Amber shouted in confusion, "She's a werewolf! How- How is she having a seizure?"

"Hey, we need to get her to a hospital." Stiles announced obviously.

"Derek-" Erica disagreed in a quick burst, "T-To Derek."

Their grip on the blonde tightened further as she twitched and Scott dropped down to the floor alongside them, looking over to the next row where Allison was checking on an unconscious Matt.

"He's alive." Allison declared.

Scott sighed in relief, his eyes meeting Amber's panicked ones before his gaze dropped down to Erica for a moment. He looked back at Allison, "When we get her to the hospital-"

"To Derek," Erica was quick to repeat, jerking beneath Amber's hands, "To Derek."

"Okay," Amber agreed easily as Stiles sat Erica up in his arms, "Okay, we'll go to Derek." She promised.

Scott was still looking at Allison longingly and he stood suddenly before rounding the bookshelf to drop down beside his girlfriend.

Stiles' head snapped up in annoyance, "Hey, Scott!"

"Asshole." Amber muttered under her breath as she pushed a clump of curls from Erica's face and tucked them behind her ear, "Scott!" She called out again in frustration.

She could hear the hushed whisperings between Scott and Allison but couldn't quite make out the words that were being said and her eyes went to her boyfriend's to meet Stiles' own irritated gaze.

"Scott, go." Allison said loudly.

"Yeah, Scott, get your ass over here!" Amber snapped as she helped Stiles get to his feet with Erica draped in his arms bridal style.

Scott finally approached them again a few seconds later and immediately took Erica's weight from Stiles' arms, carrying her effortlessly as he rushed toward the exit. Stiles huffed quietly in annoyance as they followed behind Scott with quick steps and Amber's hand found his back as they moved through the empty halls.

"I had that." Stiles muttered quietly.

"I know you did." Amber assented, rubbing her hand over his shoulder blades as they rushed down the hallway.

"I wasn't struggling that much. I could've carried her-"

Amber nodded empathetically, "I'm sure you could've."

Stiles huffed as they rounded a corner to head toward the front doors, "Why do I get the feeling you're just trying to appease me?"

"Because I am." Amber said easily, grabbing his hand to pull him to move faster.

"Wh- I mean, I've carried you plenty of times! You know I could-"

"You're very strong, baby, okay?" She placated quickly as they followed Scott through the doors and down the steps to the sidewalk, "But we both know Scott's stronger. There's no point in wearing out your human muscles, right?"

Stiles frowned as he pulled out his keys, "Yeah, I- Okay."

She knew that couldn't possibly be the end of it, the very last thing Stiles was known for was his ability to let things go, or concede in a fight — but it seemed he was willing to drop the subject for now, and Amber rewarded him with a tender stroke of her thumb over his cheek before she climbed into the vehicle.

As sickening as it was to watch Derek snap the bones in Erica's arm to jumpstart her healing process, it was nothing compared to the positively blood curdling scream that Erica let out when he sunk his claws into her flesh to squeeze the kanima venom out through the broken limb.

Amber had never had any real problems with the sight of blood, but as Derek dug his fingers into the skin of Erica's arm and thick red streams of it poured out onto the dirty floor of the train car, she had to hold back a gag as nausea flooded her body.

Stiles' warm breath against her neck as he shielded his own eyes from the gore-y scene was a welcomed comfort. She reached to cup the back of his head and he burrowed his face further into her hair with a wince when Derek tightened his grip once more and Erica's screams started up again.

"Derek-" Amber choked out, tightening her other hand around Erica's as a few tears leaked down the blonde's cheeks.

"I'm almost done." Derek promised them.

The next few minutes were painful for everyone involved and their ears were still ringing with Erica's cries of pain by the time Derek released his grip on her arm. They all slumped in relief at the sudden silence while Erica caught her breath and Derek and Scott were quick to rise to their feet and exit the ratty train car.

Amber stumbled to her own feet, temples throbbing slightly from both the anxiety and the screams that had filled her head for the last couple hours. She gave Stiles' shoulder a squeeze before she followed the path out of the train car in search for where Scott and Derek had wandered off to only moments before.

"You knew who it was." Scott accused Derek as Amber stepped up behind the two werewolves.

She watched with a sick weight in her stomach as Derek wiped Erica's blood away from his hands with a rag before he nodded and spoke, "Jackson."

"You just wanted Erica to confirm it, didn't you?" Scott asked in annoyance.

Derek nodded again but Amber took another step into their space before he could respond, "You're not going to hurt him."

"I'm not?" Derek crossed his arms over his chest and raised his eyebrows.

"Face it, Derek. You need help from Scott and his worthless pack of humans," Her words were laced with venom and she almost felt satisfied by the look of surprise on the older werewolf's face, "And we'll help you, alright? But we're not hurting him."

"Amber-" Derek's words were cut off when Scott cut in.

"She's right," Scott nodded seriously, placing a hand on Amber's shoulder in a show of support, "We'll help you stop him. But we do it on one condition; we're gonna find a way to catch him, not kill him."

Derek sighed, "So what's your plan then?"

Silence.

"You want to do things 'your way', but neither of you has a plan?" Derek huffed in exasperation.

"The rave on Friday.." Amber said after a moment.

Derek shook his head immediately, "There'll be too many people-"

"Exactly," Scott agreed immediately, "Jackson won't be expecting us to corner him in such a crowded location and he'll be a whole lot easier to catch if he's not expecting it."

"So, Mr. I'm A Werewolf And I Know Everything-" Amber looked at Derek expectantly, "How does one set a trap for demented lizard-wolf?"

"We could use mountain ash, maybe.." Derek said with a shrug, "But I don't have any."

"Well who would?" Amber asked immediately.

Derek frowned, "Scott's boss might-"

"You think Deaton has this stuff?" Scott questioned.

"There's a lot you don't know about him, Scott," Derek supplied unhelpfully, "And I doubt he'd give it to me, but he might be willing to give it to you."

"Okay," Amber said easily, "So we ask Dr. Deaton for this ashy shit.. What exactly is it though? How is it gonna help us catch Jackson?"

Derek sighed a long suffering sigh before giving them a painfully undetailed run down of how they might be able to use the mountain ash to trap Jackson, but voiced that he was unsure how they'd subdue the kanima once they had him trapped. Scott was quick to insist that Deaton would be able to help them come up with a more thorough plan and that he, Amber, and Stiles would go and speak with his boss after school one day.

"Cool. So we have a week to come up with a plan, then," Amber said, bitterness seeping into her voice as her eyes drifted to Derek again, "I guess we'll just have one of your precious Betas let you know once we have it all hashed out, since you've made sure that it's impossible for any of us to get a hold of you."

She turned away with a huff and made her way down the dark, dirty hallway, needing just a moment by herself as anger pulsed violently in her chest. She flinched when a hand wrapped around her arm, pulling her to a stop in an empty stretch of the abandoned railway cars.

"Amber, hang on a second." Derek said calmly.

Her eyes narrowed, hurt creeping up inside her as she recalled what he'd said just a few days before to shed some light on why he'd entirely cut off contact with her.

I didn't want you to be a part of my pack if you wanted to stay human.

"What?" She sighed weakly.

"I know I hurt your feelings," He said slowly, "And I-"

"You didn't," She lied with a small shrug, "Why would I be hurt?"

Derek gave her a look as if she were being wholly ridiculous, "I know I hurt you," He repeated, "When I told you I didn't want you to be a part of my pack-"

"I'm a part of Scott's pack, remember? You said so yourself. I don't want to be a part of your stupid agro-pack anyway, okay?"

He appeared sad as he frowned at her and she couldn't quite tell if it was hurt or pity swimming in his eyes, but her throat tightened regardless.

He sighed, "I just wanted to apologize, alright? My mother never really considered the human family members to be part of the pack and until I saw the bond that Scott's formed with you, and Stiles, and Allison, I thought that was just how it was supposed to be. I didn't-"

"Didn't want a sixteen year old little girl to get in the way and ruin your perfect pack of werewolves?"

She refused to even look at the older werewolf as she spit his words back at him, her eyes focussed on the dirty cement wall behind him instead. She hadn't even been truly angry when he'd initially said the words, but now that her frustration had pushed its way to the surface, she felt her emotions taking over for the first time since the night she'd turned down his offer of the bite.

"I shouldn't have said that," Derek confessed quietly, "I didn't mean it. I was angry that you turned me down but I shouldn't have pushed you away the way I did."

Her jaw clenched, "No. You shouldn't have."

"I'm sorry."

At his apology, her eyes finally flicked back to Derek and her stiffness loosened slightly at the genuine regret on his normally stoic face.

"All I ever wanted was to help you." She said quietly.

"I know."

"I- I was starting to think of you like a brother and you just.. You said you didn't want me anymore and you left." Her voice caught in her throat and Derek's eyes widened at the shift in her emotions, "I cared about you."

"I.." Derek's face scrunched up like he was struggling entirely too hard with his words before continuing, "I care about you too."

Her face broke into a grin accompanied by glassy eyes as she threw her arms around his shoulders, "Aw, Sourwolf.. I forgive you. For being such a big stupid dickhead."

Derek chuckled quietly as he returned her hug and Amber's chest felt decidedly warm.

"Oh, come on! Alpha paws off my girlfriend. For the love of God." Stiles' voice exclaimed as he rounded the corner.

Amber laughed as she released the werewolf and she took Stiles' hand in hers as soon as he was at her side, "How's Erica?" She asked.

Stiles smiled sadly, "Healed. She passed out but she looks a lot better than she did."

Derek nodded at his words before moving past them and Amber's arms looped around her boyfriend's waist the moment they were alone. She nuzzled her head into his neck and he huffed an amused laugh as he returned her embrace, combing his fingers through her hair in a familiar motion.

"What's up?" He asked quietly.

She shrugged and attempted to bury herself deeper in him, "Are you and Scott ready to go?"

Stiles hummed a confirmation before dropping his arms around her waist, "Should I carry you to the Jeep? To prove my more than adequate human strength?" He tightened his arms and lifted her until her toes could only just brush the ground but she shoved him away with a squeal of laughter.

"No," She said quickly as she moved down the hall, "Nope, no carrying necessary. Let's go get Scott. We can start planning Operation Capture Jackson on the way."

Stiles ran up behind her and she broke into laughter again while dodging his attempts to get his arms around her, tangling her fingers with his instead as she pulled him along.

"Stiles!"

Amber fisted the fabric of his flannel between her fingers in the scramble for something substantial to hold onto as her voice rose.

"I'm serious! Put me down!" She demanded in a shout.

"Nope," He slammed the passenger door of the Jeep closed and turned to head inside the house, his hands gripping her thighs tightly to ensure she didn't fall from the place where she'd been thrown over his shoulder after insisting he help her from the vehicle in what she'd thought had been an act of chivalry, "Not until we're upstairs. I'm-"

"You have proven your point!" She found herself laughing despite the way his shoulder was digging somewhat painfully into her gut.

"Not yet."

As he stepped into the house, Stiles took a moment to toe off his shoes while using one hand to pull Amber's from her feet and dropping them to smack against the floor one at a time.

"I'm wearing a dress!" She squealed when he still didn't set her down. She suddenly found herself desperately hoping that none of his nosy neighbors had been looking through their windows at the right moment to receive a full view of her ass as he'd carried her inside.

"You sure are," Stiles agreed as he moved past the entryway and deeper into the house, his right hand sliding dangerously further up her thigh as he went, "Thanks for that, by the way. It's a nice view."

She pinched his backside in retaliation as he began to climb the stairs and his knees buckled worryingly for a moment in surprise on the bottom step.

"Do not drop me, Stilinski-" She threatened seriously.

"Don't distract me!" He countered.

"You're being ridiculous!" She argued, watching with unease as the distance between her head and the floor grew, "And you're lucky I don't get motion sickness because looking down all of these stairs is mildly terrifying-"

"I'm not gonna drop you." He promised.

He made a point of tightening his fingers around her thighs further to reassure her but his actions had an entirely different effect. She had to bite down on her lower lip painfully to hold back the quiet moan that threatened to escape as his fingers dug into the soft flesh just beneath the roundness of her ass, his thumb dipping torturously between her thighs as he squeezed, the tip achingly close to pressing against her lace-covered core. So close, she could very nearly taste it.

When they made it to his bedroom, Stiles unceremoniously dropped her down onto the bed and she quickly propped herself up on her elbows to look up at him in disbelief, her cheeks flushed with heat.

"That.. Was so unnecessary." She said breathlessly as she pushed herself to sit up at the edge of his bed.

Stiles only grinned, "Told you I could do it, though. I'm not even winded. In fact, I could've-"

His words cut off in surprise when Amber dragged him forward with a hand fisted in his shirt, his knees bumping the mattress as he stumbled to a stop between her parted legs. She blinked up at him while she continued to catch her breath, tongue poking out to wet her lips unconsciously as her gaze flicked from his eyes to his mouth.

Stiles watched the movements and leaned down suddenly with one knee on the mattress between her thighs to pull her into a kiss, his hand gliding over her jaw to cradle the back of her head until his fingers could tangle in her hair.

She groaned into his mouth, her arms sliding across his shoulders to loop around his neck so that she could pull him down against her as she fell to her back on the bed. The sparks that had pooled in her belly crept lower, fluttering excitedly between her legs as his weight settled on top of her and she sighed contentedly through her nose when he deepened the kiss.

His fingers skimmed with the ghost of a touch over the skin of her biceps, dragging up past her elbows where he untangled her arms from around his neck to push them down against the mattress. His hands trailed back toward her own to tangle their fingers together once her arms were splayed out on either side of her head. When his lips left hers, she tipped her head back while his mouth left a wet trail of kisses along her jaw and down the length of her neck.

Her hips canted up reflexively as his teeth scraped softly over the sensitive skin of her throat, his warm breath tingling along her skin, and Stiles groaned into her neck when her pelvis made contact with the growing bulge at the front of his jeans.

"Stiles-" She breathed as his hands tightened around hers, arching up against him again in a desperate search for friction.

The scratch of denim was rough against her bare thighs as he shifted between her legs. The smell of his body wash still lingered on his skin from his morning shower and it filled her lungs with much needed oxygen while simultaneously filling her head with a giddy static that left her reeling, like the black and white fuzz of a channel that didn't come in on the television.

His lips trailed lower to leave hot kisses along her collarbones, his hands releasing her only so that he could slide her sweater from her shoulders, the strap of her dress following suit and slipping down past her elbow. His mouth was quick to find the newly revealed skin of her chest and she groaned while he stripped her of her cardigan completely, allowing him to tug it down her arms and toss it blindly over the side of the bed.

She pushed his own overshirt from his shoulders in response and his hands gravitated back to her skin the moment it was stripped away so that he could hike the fabric of her dress up, his thumbs pressing into her flesh intoxicatingly when he reached the tops of her thighs. She helped him drag the fabric up over her stomach and chest, tearing the dress over her head in a quick movement.

Stiles stared at her in awe for a moment before he was crowding her back against the bed to recapture her lips. Their tongues danced between hot breaths but eventually he was leaning down to reattach his mouth to the skin of her chest with wet kisses instead.

She felt his hands slip beneath her back to tug at the clasp of her bra. His mouth paused distractedly where he'd been kissing at her skin and the offer to assist him was on her lips when the fabric suddenly fell loose around her chest.

"Got it," Stiles boasted quietly, pulling the article from her body and throwing that behind himself as well, his lips immediately gravitating back to her chest, "Stupid demon contraption-" He muttered against her skin before sealing his mouth around a pebbled nipple.

The moan she let out was pornographic as her spine arched up from the mattress, chasing the feeling of his mouth, of his teeth scraping lightly against the bud while his thumb brushed lightly over her other breast.

It felt all too sudden when he pulled back and she blinked at him in confusion, feeling ridiculously disheveled from just fifteen minutes of kissing and a few seconds of his mouth on her tits.

"Hickeys," Stiles said simply as they looked at one another with lust-filled eyes. He licked at his swollen lips before continuing, "How do you feel about hickeys if they're not on your neck? Y'know? Is that still a no, or-"

She nodded wildly, "'S fine, that's fine."

An excited grin spread across his face and Amber wondered for a fleeting moment if she'd later regret granting him permission, but the thoughts were cast out of her mind the second he bit down on the sensitive flesh on the side of her breast, teeth sinking into the softness with a sudden and pleasurable sting.

She keened and gripped at the back of his neck as he sucked harshly on the sensitive skin before moving on to a new spot, his mouth leaving a smattering of biting kisses over both her breasts, littering her with spots in a wide array of pink and purple. He gripped her waist tightly, one hand holding her still as he worked while the other trailed down the outside of her thigh to pull her leg up around his hip.

When he finally kissed his way back up to her mouth, she angled her head to deepen the kiss immediately and reached between them to press her palm against the bulge beneath the zip of his pants as their tongues tangled. Stiles groaned into her mouth and she was quick to begin working at the button on his jeans, tugging it free and yanking down the zipper before pulling at the fabric at his hips.

He leaned back to rid himself of his jeans and slipped back into the space between her thighs in a flash, his hips rolling down against hers lightly as he reattached their mouths. He didn't waste any time before his lips were dragging back down her neck and chest, leaving a wet trail in their wake as he kissed and licked at her skin.

She was about to plead with him to do something but the words died on her lips when he moved lower, kissing a line down her stomach and nipping lightly at her hip bone before trailing lower still and repeating the treatment he'd given her breasts on the skin at the top of her thighs with teasing bites and kisses.

His fingers finally hooked beneath the waistband of her underwear and he slipped the fabric down her legs until they were out of the way, absentmindedly leaving them hooked around just one of her ankles in his rush to get back to the task at hand.

His head dipped down between her thighs tongue first and Amber cried out, gripping desperately at his shoulders over his shirt as he began to work his mouth against her clit.

"Yes," She praised simply in a low whisper, "S-shit."

He slid a hand up her stomach to massage her breast and she found herself having a hard time holding back the breathy noises that left her as he alternated between licking down at her entrance and moving a little higher up to flick his tongue over the sensitive bundle of nerves there instead. He swirled around her clit a few times, warm and soft and so fucking incredible, before he was flattening his tongue to apply more pressure.

"Sti-" She gasped, "Shit, y-yes. Just like- You- S-shit-"

Her chest was heaving with strangled breaths, fingers digging into his shoulders desperately as she tried to vocalize how good he was making her feel.

Her thighs began to tremble with the build of her orgasm, legs tightening around his shoulders as he worked her closer and closer to her peak. She was teetering on the edge, gasping and whining slack-jawed, when Stiles closed his lips around her clit and sucked lightly, his tongue still flicking against the nub, and her orgasm suddenly crashed over her in a wave of white-hot pleasure. Her hips twitched beneath him and his name spilled from her lips as her whole body jerked with her release.

He didn't back off until she began to wriggle uncomfortably beneath him from overstimulation. He haphazardly wiped the slick covering his mouth off against the love-bitten skin of her thigh before he crawled his way back up her body to drop his forehead against hers, their noses brushing lightly as she caught her breath.

"It- It's almost annoying how good you are at that." She murmured, tipping her chin up to catch his lips against hers lightly.

Stiles grinned in satisfaction at the compliment and he leaned down to slot their lips together more firmly, the taste of her own arousal lingering on his mouth.

After a moment of recovery, Amber reached down to wrap a hand around the hard line of his cock over his boxers, a surprisingly large patch of precome dampening the fabric, his length warm and heavy in her hand. He huffed a sharp breath into her mouth and she pulled back from the kiss slightly to peer up at him, watching the way his eyelashes fluttered and his lips parted as she tightened her fingers around him and worked her hand slowly.

Stiles groaned weakly when she released him but she ignored his noises of protest, forcing his boxers down his hips and pushing at his shoulders determinedly until he was laying on his back. She pulled her own underwear up over her thighs again before discarding his and settling between his spread knees.

He was achingly hard now, his cock long and thick where it curved up his stomach, the head of it red and leaking a small trail of precome into the dark hairs of his happy trail. She took him back into her hand while pushing the fabric of his shirt up his chest slightly, her fingers scratching through the damp trail of hair that led up from his groin before pressing into the tensed muscles of his stomach.

She fought not to cringe at the action as she spit over the tip and began to jerk him off in earnest, thumbing away the strand of connection to her mouth. Her embarrassment washed away in a flash of confidence when Stiles let out another devastatingly weak groan, the sound of it high and breathy.

Her hand tightened at the head, collecting the precome leaking from his tip and combining it with her own spit with an easy twist of her wrist before slipping her fist back down his length, the glide smooth and noisy with the slick of the makeshift lubricant.

She leaned down slowly after a moment of simply pumping him with her fist, guiding the head of his cock to her lips. She watched him watching her — watched the moment his eyes slipped shut with a curse and his thighs twitched as she wrapped her lips around the tip.

"Oh, shit." He hissed, hands tangling in her hair, his fingers fumbling to gather her it away from her face so he could watch her move with no obstructions when he looked down again.

She swirled her tongue around the head once, relishing in the stuttered noises of desperation that Stiles was letting out, the way his thighs twitched as he tried not to thrust up into the heat of her mouth, the muscles of his stomach growing firm beneath her palm as he tensed.

"Babe. Baby, I'm-"

As he moaned, she was tightening her fist around the base, sucking lightly at the head and suddenly, Stiles was coming with a groan, warmth coating her tongue as his muscles tensed further and his grip tightened in her hair. She pulled back slightly in surprise, swallowing what was in her mouth, the taste of it salty and slightly metallic. She rubbed her thumb over the slick tip while come continued to shoot out in weak spirts, watching her boyfriend twitch with the waves of his own release, the way his muscles tensed and relaxed rapidly beneath dark hair and pale skin.

"Holy.. shit." He whispered, hips jerking and eyes closed as the last dregs of his release coated her fingers.

She waited, momentarily mesmerized by the rise and fall of his chest with labored breaths, before she reached past him to grab a tissue and began to wipe the mess away from the bottom of his stomach and her hand. When she reached back up for a second tissue, Stiles halted her movements to look at her with wide eyes.

His thumb rubbed along her jaw softly, "Oh my god," He whispered, "I'm.. So sorry. I just.. Shit. I'm sorry." He repeated quietly, looking adorably flushed from embarrassment or his orgasm or possibly some combination of both.

"What exactly are you apologizing for?" She asked curiously, her hand trailing up his cheek as she reached up to drag her fingertips through the softness of his short hair.

He grimaced, "Well first off for having, like, zero restraint whenever you're on top of me and always embarrassing myself by coming in like ten seconds-" He began quietly, "But mostly for just coming in your mouth without any warning-"

Amber knocked their foreheads together as she snorted an amused laugh, "Mhm. Totally unforgivable.." She teased, "But I guess.. Just this once.."

She leaned down to give him a kiss but his head tipped away to avoid her lips as he continued.

"I'm serious. I swear I usually last longer, but-"

"Usually?" She repeated the word playfully, "What, when you're jerking off in bed all by yourself?"

His nose scrunched up cutely in annoyance, "Well, I.. Yeah."

She laughed, "Aw, Sti. I'm sorry that having a real life half-naked girl on top of you is proving so detrimental to your sexual stamina."

"It's just not the presence of a naked girl that's been ruining me. Y'know, just for the record," He said quietly, tucking a loose lock of hair behind her ear as he continued, "It's that it's you."

"You're ridiculous." She blushed despite herself.

"I'm serious," He corrected, "I've wanted you for as long as I can remember and as if listening to the sounds you make when I'm eating you out aren't bad enough, then you actually get your hands on me, tits out, and you look up at me with those freakin' eyes while you put my dick in your mouth?" He shook his head with a small smile, "Nope.. No fuckin' way. I don't stand a chance."

"You're a pretty smooth talker aren't you, Stilinski?"

"I'm not trying t-"

She silenced him with a kiss, their mouths separating and quickly reconnecting in fluid movements until she had no choice but to lean back so that they could both catch their breath again.

"We should probably get started on homework if we don't want to end up like Scott." She commented reluctantly.

"I'm not sure it's even possible to fall as far behind as Scott," Stiles squeezed her hip lightly, "But you're probably right."

Amber leaned over the side of the bed to retrieve his underwear, passing them to him before crossing the room to dig around in his dresser for something comfortable to wear, "What do you want to do for dinner? Is your dad working late or should we maybe wait for him-?"

As she spoke, her eyes caught on a rolled up bundle of white cotton at the back corner of the drawer and she pulled it out excitedly, rubbing her thumb over the faded logo on the front before tugging it over her head.

"Working late. Again." Stiles sighed as he stepped up behind her, swapping the drawers to pull open the one stuffed with his sweats and pajama bottoms. He paused in his search for a pair of pants and grabbed at her shoulder curiously, "What shirt-?"

His words cut off as she was turned to face him with an excited grin on her face. She stretched her arms out at her sides with a flourish as she showed off the shirt she'd uncovered from the depths of his dresser.

"How long d'you think it's been since this even fit you?" She laughed.

Stiles was staring distractedly at the way her hardened nipples poked out beneath the faded Star Wars logo covering her chest and he shook his head after a few seconds of deafening silence before responding, "I, uh.. I dunno. Maybe when I was twelve? Thirteen?"

The soft worn cotton of the shirt only reached the tops of her thighs, not quite long enough to cover her underwear completely and Stiles was weak to do anything but immediately crowd her back against the dresser. He toyed with the loose collar, fingers brushing against the column of her throat, and her heart stuttered at the warmth of his body pressed against her. His free hand slipped beneath the hem to run along her stomach, sliding back to the bottom of her spine while he tugged the collar to the side and dipped his head to press his lips softly to the base of her neck.

"Sti, we.. We're supposed to be getting dressed-"

"Maybe we should get undressed one more time, and then get re-dressed." He suggested before kissing her neck again.

"Homework. Studying.."

She sighed, closing her eyes and tipping her head to the side in contradiction to her words so that she could bask in the feeling of his mouth just a little longer. The knowledge that they needed to be responsible did nothing to quell the heat that pooled beneath lace as he nipped lightly at her skin, just soft enough to teasingly suggest the threat of a real bite.

She gripped the warm skin of his hips, fingernails digging into pale flesh as she let out a breathy sigh and relaxed back against the dresser.

She let him continue for a long minute before pushing him back slightly, cupping his face in her hands, "Homework. We'll do homework and eat something and then maybe, before bed.."

Stiles groaned, "Fine."

She kissed the pout on his lips lightly, "We're making good choices."

"Yeah, yeah. I know."

[iridescentoracle]

okay so. potentially controversial opinion i guess but apollo justice (the game, though actually also the character) was kind of a mess. i wanted to like it, there was a ton of potential, but the execution just did not work for me at all. but it’s been haunting me for weeks and (unlike dual destinies, which also didn’t really work for me but i cannot for the life of me figure out why) i know exactly what i didn’t like about apollo justice and how i would fix it if capcom decided to remake AA4–AA6 and inexplicably put me in charge. fair warning this is at least 80% complaining by volume about what they didn’t do/what they did do that i hated though.

like, okay, here’s the thing. it’s a new story. phoenix has had his arc, we’re moving on to a new main character, he isn’t the protagonist anymore. it makes sense to move him into a mentor/boss role while our new protagonist takes over as the plucky young newbie who doesn’t really know what he’s doing. the problem is that everything about how the game does that kind of sucks.

like. AJ phoenix gets totally shafted for the sake of not letting him be a good mentor, so that apollo has to figure things out on his own, but apollo isn’t really treated right by the narrative either, because the plot is so much about phoenix that apollo is like. weirdly peripheral to the whole thing even though he’s nominally the protagonist. like it’s super obvious that the whole reason phoenix isn’t an attorney anymore and is all ✨ mysterious✨ and ✨secretive✨ is literally just so that apollo doesn’t actually like. have a good mentor who can teach him things? like the entire plot/backstory is just a post-hoc excuse bc the starting point of the game was clearly someone going “well we’re not allowed to not have phoenix in the game, but we can’t let him be someone apollo can actually rely on, so we have to find some excuse to make him weird and mysterious and uncommunicative and also not a lawyer just for good measure bc otherwise he wouldn’t leave a kid hanging like that” and everything else was built up to justify that.

but as if it’s not bad enough that it all requires shattering phoenix’s perfectly good reasonably-happy-ending from the previous game, by extension everyone else gets screwed over too?? like, maya was very explicitly traumatized by the kurain channeling legacy to the point of briefly not wanting to identify herself as a spirit medium. pearl was sheltered from some of the worst of it but was aware of enough to blame herself for bad things happening to the point of trying to run away. the credits definitely made it seem like they both bounced right back after all but frankly i was not convinced they weren’t going to both collapse as soon as the figurative camera looked away again and the most plausible short-term outcome to me was that they would wind up both moving in with phoenix for a while in the near future like maya all but said she wanted to do!! she called herself “the assistant manager at Wright & Co. Law Offices” and said she “[didn’t] want any more to do with [the Fey clan],” that is IN the TEXT i am not reading too much into things here those are her words! i’m fine with her potentially changing her mind again and resuming her training again and moving back to kurain after all when she’s had some time to recover from everything but like. when she’s had some time. she deserved more than two months and i hate so much that she didn’t get it.

on the flip side, again, i get the choice to deliberately not-include edgeworth in this one but i swear to god it should have taken him and phoenix like. maybe four months to finish getting their act together and that’s being generous and counting the month it takes him to wrap things up in europe and move back to japanifornia. i’m pretty sure edgeworth figured out how he felt when he got the phone call from larry about the bridge if he hadn’t already by then and i think phoenix simultaneously realized and refused to realize how he felt during the year he thought edgeworth is dead, bc neither of them can just be normal about feeling things ever, so give them a second for phoenix to stop repressing shit and also mention that he’s absolutely not going to get back together with iris when she gets out of jail and they Will sort themselves out and they Will kiss and i give it like a year tops before they get married. they have a courthouse wedding obviously and get the judge to officiate. 50/50 chance they wind up proposing in the middle of a trial and get married during the next recess.

and in canon there’s not time for all that to have happened bc the next game requires phoenix to have promptly turned into an arrogant asshole and then gotten royally fucked over by the universe and become a totally different person (again, at that, because he’s already a completely different person in the flashback to his last case, why does he act like the paynes that whole time i hate it), but like. this is what i’m saying. phoenix getting screwed over by the universe/writing also screws all his friends over too.

so i just. this game does such a disservice to phoenix’s entire character, and all of his friends, and also the entire first three games and anyone who loved them. it’s not all bad and the person phoenix has been turned into—“has been turned into,” not “has turned into,” because the hand of the writers is so visible, i can’t engage with this game on a fully watsonian level for the life of me because phoenix’s hoodie might as well say DOYLE CHOSE TO DO THIS TO ME. this is a fictional character being written by real people and the real people wrote him in a manner entirely incompatible with his original characterization and i cannot get past it—is fascinating but it isn’t phoenix. i love the plot but i hate the execution. i like the ingredients but the recipe sucks.

but it could have been so good. and at this point i’ve mostly worked out how.

you have the exact same scenario with the gramarye trial, is the thing, up through the point where phoenix wins the poker game and shadi enigmar/zak gramarye asks him to be his lawyer, and phoenix accepts—and then phoenix, like, gets a phone call from maya or pearl bc it turns out one of them just got hurt, or they’ve both come down with some kind of stomach bug or food poisoning or something, some temporary emergency that’s just severe enough that they need more help/care for a day or two than phoenix could give while also handling a case, but that won’t actually last all that long.

so he turns down the case apologetically bc oh my god i’m so sorry actually, family emergency, i gotta go right now, best of luck, and shadi/zak moves on to defense attorney number three: a different, brand new character, another rising star defense attorney around the same point in their career as phoenix, and that’s who winds up using the forged diary page and getting disbarred and turning into the bitter jaded inscrutable asshole mentor who years later will manipulate apollo into exposing his own boss as a murderer, and then technically hire apollo but not actually, like, teach him anything or help out in any meaningful way, etc.

but meanwhile, three facts about this series of events:

8yo trucy is still the unwitting catalyst for the lawyer defending her father using forged evidence that destroys his career, and her father still vanishes and leaves her behind

within a couple days, pearl and maya are basically fine

phoenix wright’s best friend was once a kid barely older than trucy is now who suddenly found himself with no family, and as a result was taken in by someone who had a deep and abiding grudge against both him and his father because of what they did, through no real fault of their own, to him/his career.

and since phoenix did meet shadi/zak and turned his case down, he has every reason to be curious about how the trial went, and to pick up either from the general news coverage (which, considering what a big deal phoenix’s disbarment in canon was, i assume there is A Lot Of,) or to realize bc his personal curiosity/almost-connection means he actively looks into things, that there is a kid who has been left behind and who currently has no one to take care of her. and you cannot tell me that phoenix would look at this kid whose best-case scenario is currently getting swept into the foster care system bc god forbid she actually winds up getting taken in by the only adult even vaguely associated with her at this point, bc phoenix has seen that story before, and not decide on the spot to adopt her himself

and so just like that, we have

phoenix accidentally escaping the whole gramarye trial entirely unscathed

but still adopting trucy

pearl and maya still living with phoenix a couple months post-T&T instead of immediately getting packed off back to kurain

no changes that actually significantly impact apollo for most of the game bc all that’s really different for him is the name of his inscrutable jerk mentor and the fact that he’s gotta wind up meeting/being-befriended-by trucy a little differently

so by the time the actual present-day plot of the game kicks off, phoenix and company are still out there doing their thing with phoenix getting to be his best self and living his best life. he still gets his adorable adopted daughter who he loves dearly. we still don’t actually see maya or edgeworth or pearl in this version of the game but there’s allusions to them all being very present in his-and-trucy’s lives—trucy brings us over to their apartment at some point and we see a stack of steel samurai dvds in the corner and a laundry basket with unidentifiable clothes in suspiciously familiar shades of purple/pink/magenta, details like that. we only see phoenix himself for like, maybe five minutes total over the course of the first three and a half cases and it’s a little tantalizing but he gets to be the one who bursts into the courthouse with the decisive evidence that lets our protagonist win the last case.

and meanwhile, apollo’s current boss is shady and inscrutable and used to be a lawyer and can even be involved in some ✨ secret mission ✨ that he won’t talk about that turns out to be the jurist system, so we can hypothetically keep whatever the intended message of that whole thing was (which, argh, what do you DO with the jurist system. what is the intended message. i get that it’s satire of a then-contemporary development in japan’s legal system but i can’t figure out for the life of me what the satire is actually meant to say), and then at the end of the game Apollo’s Shitty Mentor is proven to have been innocent and will be allowed to take the bar again if he wants to but he’s not entirely sure bc at this point it’s been so long that he might just prefer to move on entirely now that his actual disbarment/disgrace isn’t hanging over his head bc he honestly did used to be a pretty stand-up guy but the last seven years have been rough and he doesn’t really like the person he’s turned into and maybe it would be healthier to treat this as a fresh start and try something entirely new so he’s going to take some time away from the whole legal system first to clear his head before he figures out whether or not he actually wants to dive back in.

and apollo’s like “well that’s totally understandable and sounds great for you but goddammit do i really have to go back to the endless nightmare that is job applications, i hate this actually” and phoenix (who is also in the defense lobby where this whole conversation is taking place) is like “why don’t you come work for me?”

you could even have it end on a joke where apollo is shocked about the offer bc he applied to work for phoenix six months ago and phoenix is like ???? i never saw that?? and it turns out apollo applied via email but phoenix still sucks at computers and only checks his work email like once a year.

seriously though i do not understand what we’re supposed to think about the jurist system. is it supposed to be that fucked up? i’m not actually sure how we’re supposed to feel abt that tbh but it sounds like maybe it’s not supposed to seem like an actually better alternative? like it felt to me like it was being framed as a triumph for our belovèd hero, isn’t this great that he was able to arrange things so everything would turn out all right after all etc, but it was so obviously fucked up and unethical—like, oh, yeah, having one guy in charge of assigning the defense attorney, the judge, and the jury sounds totally fine and like it’s actually going to be more reliably ethical than the system that’s already in place, for sure, not to mention the possibility that edgeworth was pulling strings to help phoenix make it happen and be involved, because nepotism and people in law enforcement/the justice system pulling strings to put people they like in positions of authority that they probably shouldn’t have specifically so that they can do things like “rig a jury,” on purpose, is fine bc i like these guys who are doing/benefiting from the nepotism so therefore it’s not wildly unethical and an obviously terrible idea, oh my god—that it feels like it has to be on purpose?

and like in practice it just… the jurist system as it’s actually implemented is worse actually. it’s genuinely worse and less ethical than the established system where the judge was about to let kristoph gavin off scot-free for the crimes he wasn’t already convicted of.

that said it’s like. very funny on a conceptual level. yet another thing that makes sense if the games are set in japan bc sure of course fictional kinda goofy japan has a more ridiculous version of the thing that’s being implemented in real-life japan right now, but when localized the implications are buck-fucking-wild

because. okay. japanifornia exclusively has bench trials or whatever they’re called for some reason. i have questions about why that’s legal given the existence of the sixth amendment but sure fine the japanifornian legal system is deeply fucked up in many new and interesting ways and that is clearly just one of them. but you’re telling me that the entire concept of trial by jury is strange and new to a lawyer? like. did the entire country just. ditch the sixth amendment before apollo was born? why is this a brand new concept instead of, you know, how things work in every other state. i have so many questions that do not need answers. thank god these games are old enough to have gotten localized it’s so much funnier this way.

ANYWAY. SO. yeah. make apollo’s inscrutable asshole so-called mentor someone other than phoenix wright, have way less of phoenix in the game actually bc he’s off living his best life and having a thriving career with very little reason to think about how kristoph gavin exists, and meanwhile write apollo with All That Backstory in mind from the start though 95% of the actual info should still be saved for game 6, we’re just trying to write apollo so he’s not completely flat and frankly pretty forgettable at times and also including foreshadowing so the khura’in thing isn’t a very obvious retcon when we get there, and turn klavier into an actual person, and that’s like. 95% of my frustrations with the game fixed right there (the other 5% is “i still can’t tell what we’re actually supposed to think/feel about the jurist system” but like. i can’t tell what we’re supposed to think/feel so i don’t know how to fix it).

well okay also the like, pacing and focus would need to be fixed so apollo’s incrutable jerk mentor isn’t the protagonist for half the last case to the point i forgot apollo existed, etc, but like. that’s the next level down of problems you know?

AND bonus points: splitting “phoenix” and “apollo’s inscrutable jerk mentor” into two separate characters automatically fixes yet another of the worst He Would Not Fucking Do Thats of the game, i.e. phoenix just. not telling trucy and apollo that they’re siblings and their mom is alive. bc apollo’s shitty mentor is the one who actually interacts with lamiroir offscreen, this phoenix never does, so apollo’s mentor is the one who has the opportunity to figure out who she is and that trucy and apollo are half-siblings, and they’re not his kids, apollo doesn’t even work for him anymore by the end of the game so what does he care whether she tells them, and meanwhile phoenix isn’t inexplicably hiding that information because he also doesn’t know. still relies on her continuing to hide her face professionally in the meantime (instead of being deeply stupid about the fact that she is super famous, twice, and if she goes around being Very Famous And Popular Singer Lamiroir someone will notice that she is very much also Very Famous And Popular Believed-Dead Magician Thalassa Gramarye and between the existence of the news and the existence of the internet her kids will inevitably find out, jesus CHRIST parts of this game are so badly written), but that’s a given

i have a whole bunch of other thoughts—mostly about klavier gavin bc he should be such a good character but he just doesn’t work, but also i think the structure of the last case would have to be pretty significantly modified to fix the pacing/structural/focus issues where our nominal protagonist is basically irrelevant for the bulk of the case, even while the plot would remain basically the same, but i haven’t figured out how the structure would be different bc that requires figuring out how to handle the whole jurist system thing—but that’s like. the coherent parts/the bulk of it, you know?

i think (really this is just a detail, not a major plot point, but it would have a pretty major impact thematically so it feels bigger than it is? so) the other main thing i would change—and this part isn’t actually real criticism bc it’s not, like, bad that they didn’t do this, and if they were going to make any changes there are a lot of things that should be higher on the list, but listen. zak and valant should’ve been brothers.

because like, first of all, the extra complexity of the relationship if they’re not just two random guys who met bc they were functionally coworkers/fellow students, and instead you have these two brothers with the same mentor and who are both in love with the same woman, and they both know that one of them is better at magic and their mentor’s favorite, and he’s also the one who the woman they’re both in love with loves back and has a kid with, etc? a favorite/least favorite child dynamic occurring spontaneously, presumably in adulthood, in their professional lives? like. it makes everything about their relationship with each other, and with magnifi, and zak’s relationship with thalassa, and valant’s relationship with trucy, way more complex and interesting without actually having to change anything else.

but then secondly, on top of all that, suddenly this is a game about siblings. zak & valant, apollo & trucy, and kristoph & klavier. suddenly you have these three different sibling relationships that are all very different but two of them actually get to be siblings but are super fucked up, and the last pair meet entirely by chance without any idea who the other person is or should be to them but wind up with the healthiest happiest relationship of the three? like, the tragedy of it, that apollo and trucy were separated by fate and literally no one knew they both existed except their own mother, who thought apollo was dead before trucy was ever born, and if not for whatever series of coincidences resulted in apollo happening to work for the man who ruined trucy’s father’s life and getting roped into that whole mess they might never have met at all, and as it was they lost however many years they could’ve had each other, etc etc, and yet despite it all they’re the ones who actually manage to be happy and, like, unconditionally positive presences in each other’s lives, while valant spends however long resenting zak for being magnifi-and-thalassa’s favorite and more talented and all that which presumably put a strain on their relationship bc being resented that deeply by someone that close to you for things that you don’t even actually control can’t feel good, and kristoph and klavier… [gestures vaguely] idk whatever they would feel about each other if the writers remembered klavier was supposed to be a person. and aside from the klavier bits all of that is in the game already, implicitly or explicitly, just waiting for someone to rewrite like three lines of dialogue so zak and valant aren’t Just Some Guys to each other.

anyway a lot of the other thoughts i have are like. details. it probably never gets established explicitly but phoenix probably never gets to know kristoph gavin that well, and conversely kristoph doesn’t care about phoenix bc he might not even know he would’ve been passed over for phoenix before the other guy. ema is friendlier bc even though she is still upset about being a detective and does still think klavier’s annoying, she doesn’t actively resent him for getting phoenix disbarred. also she’s already good friends with trucy. the biggest plot-difference that isn’t just a natural result of phoenix not getting disbarred is that i think phoenix has to be the one who gets hit by the car in 4-2 instead of that happening to apollo’s jerk mentor bc no other human being on the planet could get thrown thirty feet by a car and hit a telephone pole with his head and still only wind up with a sprained ankle out of the deal.

[purity-town]

Some late night ask responses below the cut; inbox should be all cleared out again!

Thank you!! Terraria is a very silly game so I honestly don't think twice of items just falling out of orbs in-game (same with boss loot), but since the comic tends to fall more on the serious side I wanted to give it a more concrete in-universe explanation. So, while I normally gloss over most of the details of crafting and boss/enemy drops, Chris shaping magic into a physical item serves as an easy explanation for some of the weirder cases.

Hahaha, honestly, in my own playthroughs I blow up the ebonstone too, but I wanted to give the Dryad more of a role in the chapter and show off her abilities!

I won't dig into the specifics of accessories/weapons/etc. since that varies quite a bit depending on which stage of the game you're in, but I can speak to generally what subset of each class Chris would be! Obviously for magic Chris favors staves/wands, and for the others:

For melee, he'd absolutely be a swords guy -- he's my main player character both actually in Terraria proper and for D&D, and in both cases I play him as a swordsman who uses a bit of magic on the side, so it fits.

For ranged, I can't really envision him using a bow (sorry, Andrew). In pre-hardmode, I think he'd stick with guns, but come Hardmode he'd lean into using repeaters where viable!

Summoning is the hardest to pick out since it doesn't really have distinct weapon groups considering you can use whips/sentries/minions all together. I can't much imagine him with the nature-animal-themed summons, but things like the stardust dragon or Terraprisma would be an awesome visual, along with most of the sentry weapons and whips!

It's mostly just for the sake of the pages looking nice and loose continuity from panel to panel! That said -- Chris, compared to other characters, is much more willing to throw himself into the Corruption (see: Chapter 3, where Chris explores the Corruption on his own while Andrew and Malik are pretty emphatically of the opinion "screw that!"), so him walking into it with only a minor pause while other characters hover on the sidelines tracks.

No Corrupted!Chris incoming, but he is just generally more interested in the magic and strange eldritch-ness of the Corruption than other folks are, and is willing to let that interest override self-preservation.

Very belated response to this ask, but thank you! I ended up recovering just fine :)

I don't really know how to respond to this without outright spoiling to you (anon) what will happen (nor do I remember off of the top of my head how much I've already shared about Hardmode in general), so I'll just say I'm glad you're invested in the story!

Thank you!! It's always fun when I can get a little effect to work out like that.

This is a really cool concept! I've thought a good bit about visual changes -- we obviously see in-game that the Clothier is much healthier after his curse is broken, and I've seen some cool ideas floating around for the Guide gaining pretty extensive burn scars and similar visual changes after reviving post-WoF. But I hadn't considered much the idea of personality changes as well; while in the comic any impacts to personality just come as a result of the general experience of the Horrors, it's a really neat idea! Especially love the suggestion of the Guide grappling with the Wall's all-consuming hunger. Characters being theoretically free to live their lives but simultaneously being changed and scarred by their previous selves.

[originemesis]

There's a storm on the horizon of hellscape just north of the Manor Ars Goetia, brewing with periodic as they were belligerent blasts of what one could only assume to be heavy winds raging just outside the garden gates if viewed from the creature comforts of a study's shelter against the unholy crusade that raged beyond its rococo rendition of fortified walls. Metal bars rattled with the impatience of a prisoner waiting to be let free of their enclosure- to storm the palace and pluck the haughty out of the hunkered down as if they were truly safe behind a blind eye turned. It wouldn't remain turned for long, of course unless of course every window along the stretch of the manor's upper floors shattering simultaneously was a normal affair for its inhabitants. In a sonic boom of brandished bass that made thunder itself sound like a newborn's mewl, the mansion rattles in its bones.

"When the world has screwed you ~ and crushed you in its fist..." A disembodied musing on high within the electrized billows of black clouds serves as a temporary point of reason without an otherwise unreasonable force of nature. One that wastes little time with the pleasantries of knocking to ask if the heathens within knew their Lord and Savior. No, there were other practical ways in flushing out a chicken coop, and it didn't involve playing petty politics- not this time. "When the way you're treated has got you good and PISSED." Another wave of foundationally dismantling energy wipes out the bottom layer of manor windows as if the source of its fury couldn't fathom the idea of leaving anyone currently within the house divided out of this little bonding experience...in dying together, of course!

"There's been one solution ~ since the world began." And wouldn't he know that better than anyone? He'd been there since the very beginning of fucking Earth, after all. "Don't just SIT AND TAKE IT-" A flap of wings the span of the last supper's table follow him out of the clouds on the tail end of a lightning strike that beelines for the manor, cutting off all light within in an instant.

Panic, little feathery fucks- panic and fly up to fry with the rest of this shithole of a universe.

A crass cackle culminates over the axe clasped within wicked talons and its with a sharp strum downwards does the energy behind the string's vibrations catch the booming of his core for a soul like a spark to a gas leak.

"STICK IT TO THE MANNNNNNN-" Boom.

At least that's what sound he imagines the manor's roof makes when he rips it off the top of the top floor like a rotting scab to fling aside and expose the Goetian lord in his study room- yeah 'studying'... how to take a heaven-sent DICKING.

"Well, well, well! Looks like you hooting whores fucked up your negotiations!" Floating back with several heavy flaps, he positions himself behind the subtle swirl of a newborn twister- its form little more than loose pieces of the manor gathered thus far and the faint stirring of sound waves the incessant pulse of his inner amp emits in time like a metronome of destruction...a ticking time bomb- the very fate that had sealed his own world in the end now championed by a call to cause a similar calamity once more. Only this time, it was the owls' turn to watch everything they knew shred apart piece by piece by the oncoming storm.

"So let's make this CORDIAL, shall we? Hoo, HOO- cloacafuckers! HOOOOOOO'S READY TO DIE?" Punctuating the sentiment with a forceful slam of strings, the angel sends several waves of sound force below to slow any attempts at climbing to his lofty position in the sky, a position he'd already began to spiral up cloud by cloud as he stirred the atmosphere blurry with restless rounds of gritty guitar riffs to feed the speed of sound within the tilt of the the heaven-aimed pillar and all its currently collected debris from the shattered bits of man-handled manor.

Adam - Son of the Red Earth - Phase 1.

[track in play 🎵🎶🎸]

🎸Group Limit - 4 character slots. [@avispatr , @mages-pandoras-box , @a-hell-of-a-time x2] 🎸Win Requirements - 20 landed hits (or neutralization in Phase 3). 🎸Battle Requirements - Unless heavily staggered by multiple hits per round, Adam has a constant field-wide music-based aoe that accompanies his guitar playing. A 4D will be rolled to determine a number 1-4. This is the amount of sound waves from the aoe that will disturb the party (either breaking concentration or potentially injuring). I will then roll a 20D for each number of waves per character involved provided against your AC to see if you're hit (participants will message me with the confirmation of being hit or not via dms/discord). A hit will stagger/interrupt concentration and you will be unable to attack on your turn if this happens. *This does not stop you from performing other actions such as healing, assisting allies, dodging other incoming attacks, or using items. Adam's AC in Phase 1 is different than in Phase 2 and 3. If reached, Phase 2 and Phase 3 AC will be adjusted. After your reply is posted, send me your 20D dice rolls via messages for each attempted attack, and I will compare and align it to Adam's current AC to determine hits in my reply sequence. 🎸Starting Roll for the AOE field-wide energy surge mentioned above is: 2. I will be sending the listed characters above my two D20 rolls for each of you to determine if you're hit/disrupted on this first 'intro' round or not on your reply based on your personal AC.