#and something is awoken in kev

[ninyard]

hi nin! could you maybe… possibly… perhaps… elaborate on your thoughts about jeremy giving kevin a praise kink… perchance…

okayokayokay im going to try my very best to answer this one without going into writing something wayyy too long as per usual (i dont think i succeeded) or just writing full blown keremy smut (wish me luck)

SO

kevin is not used to being congratulated or praised for how he plays; the master always has something to critique him on, the ravens aren't exactly fond of compliments, and something about the "son of exy" "one of the best" "unbeatable" comments from the press or the media never feels,, legitimate to him. maybe the first few when he was a kid and doing well on his high school teams or when he started becoming a big name in exy, they were really meaningful to him, but it kind of lost it's novelty after a while. there's only so many "how does it feel to be the best?" comments he can hear before they start to feel almost like an obligation from them to him. these interviewers, these journalists, these commentators; they don't know him. so, the older he gets, the more he feels like his talent isn't really appreciated. he rarely hears a "good game!" from anyone that matters to him. he rarely hears a "you played well!" from someone who can look him in the eyes and truly, truly mean it.

then; maybe it's in his first year with the ravens, and its the first time kevin has played against usc (or, maybe he's younger, and it's the first time he's played on a national level with his high school team, playing against jeremy's high school team, and their friendship starts when he's 16/17 instead of older) and kevin hears it all - kevin day, son of kayleigh day, amazing, talented, brilliant. he smiles and thanks whoever he has to politely, and goes on about his day. meaningless and unimportant formalities that are just that. but he meets jeremy knox, who he's heard rumours about, who the whispers have claimed is one of his biggest competitors in the league, and kevin is,,, taken aback. from the moment he lays eyes on him, he's smiling, shaking hands with people much older than himself without a twitch or a deep breath to calm him down. kevin watches as he turns his back, and how his smile stays wide on his face, more than just a media-trained look into cameras and into the faces of the people more important than himself.

jeremy looks around the court as the two teams are having their warm-up time, until he locks eyes with kevin and his already wide smile gets wider. he practically bounces across the court, and shakes hands with riko first, as riko whispers to kevin in japanese to not let this dumb surfer waste any more of their time. then, he turns to kevin, and takes his hand sincerely into his. he looks him dead in the eyes, shakes his head like he can't believe this is happening, and tells him, "it is an honour to meet you. there's very few people out there that play like you can."

riko is jealous, of course he is, and kevin feels weirdly almost embarrassed by the compliment. he thanks him genuinely and tells him that there's no need to be so kind, but jeremy, with his hand still in his, he says something else like "there's only kind things to say about someone like you," or that it wasn't kind; it was the truth. he tells kevin he's excited to play against him, with an obligatory compliment sent to riko, too, but kevin could tell that it was his one that was genuine.

the game goes on, kevins team wins, they're crossing the court after the game and jeremy takes a second longer with his hand in his again, "that's how exy is meant to be played," his smile is toothy and real, "i've never met anyone as good as you,"

oh, kevin walks off that court trying to hide the blush that covered his cheeks. when they found a way to reach each other afterwards, and they stay in touch, meeting up every once and a while when games and banquets and events allow for it, kevin is almost infatuated with jeremy's kindness. everything that leaves his mouth, every compliment that he says feels so heartfelt and thought-through and real that he feels like he's never heard these praises that he's heard a million times before. and it's not like jeremy is kissing up, either, the compliments are casual and appropriate for the conversations that they have.

but kevin is a teenager with a bare basic understanding of his sexuality and his body in general, and he's really not sure why when jeremy compliments him like this, he feels like that. he's not sure why he feels this twist in his stomach when jeremy texts him after a televised game that he played well, that he did a good job, that he's so good at what he does and so brilliant to watch. to make a long story short, kevin realises he's turned on by being praised because of jeremy, because of how he talks about how kevin plays, how he compliments him in a way he's never been spoken to before. (of course he feels guilt and shame the first time he,, imagines jeremy telling him he did such a good job. but he also feels how it feels to picture him saying that to him. and the times that he thinks of jeremy are the times he remembers, the times he thinks of over, and over, and over, and over and-)

(the other option is another thing im working on right now - when kevin is trying to figure out his sexuality, and finds himself in an experimenting kind of phase, jeremy is the only person he trusts to help him figure it out. jean is there, of course, but he's too,, close to the nest. he's too close to riko. jeremy doesn't even intentionally praise him, but he feels how kevin stills and how the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck stand up when he says that he feels good. jeremy is the one who brings it up sometime afterwards, asking if he wants to be praised, and he has to be the one to explain to kevin what it means - an explanation that becomes a demonstration that becomes a Praise Kink that kevin didn't even know he had)

[thatesqcrush]

Time of the Month

Kevin Mulrooney x Reader. I mentioned possibly writing him again and an anon was definitely interested. Warnings: Dark!fic - dubcon, knife play, blood play, smut (they have sex while she is on her period), language. Possibly squick for many so I am only tagging those who may be interested: @beccabarba @madpanda75 @dreamlover31 @teamsladsandgents​

AN: Final piece for Love You, Love You Not Bingo. Using South of the Border for my song of choice. 

WC: 1.8K

**

“Babe, I’m a bad wife, I got Chinese for dinner.” You replied as you made your way into your Brooklyn apartment, slamming the door behind with your foot. When you received no response, you called out for your husband again. 

“Kev?” You set down the bag of takeout and your work bag. You made your further into the apartment; it was eerily quiet. You pushed the door to the bedroom, when you felt a set of hands on your shoulders. You let out a scream as you whipped around and met the green eyes of your husband.

“Jesus Christ, you scared the shit out of me!” You frowned, hitting him slightly on the shoulder. “I hate when you sneak up on me like that. I thought you were a murderer or something.”

A smile twitched on Kevin’s face and he let out a small chuckle. “That’ll make the headline - ADA Kevin Mulrooney, secret slasher extraordinaire.” He pressed a quick kiss to your lips.  “You got Chinese for dinner?”

“Yeah.” You sighed. “It’s that time of the month and I am having the worst cramps. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.” Kevin replied. “Why don’t you change and I’ll set out the food.”

“You’re the best - this is why I married you.” You replied, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“Ah, see I thought you married me for my looks.” Kevin murmured, stroking your chin. His hand moved down to your neck and wrapped around it so gently, you hardly noticed. Kevin could feel your pulse throb with his thumb and his cock stirred to life. 

“That too.” You replied, before raising up to kiss him once more. Kevin pulled you closer to him and you could see a glint in his eyes, causing you to arch your brow in curiosity. 

“Go change.” Kevin replied, giving your ass a squeeze. 

You rolled your eyes, “Okay my little murderer.” You turned and made way to the bedroom, where you changed into a tank-top and sweats. Your hair, which was loose, was bundled into a messy top-knot and you walked back to find that Kevin had spread out the food on the coffee table with chopsticks. 

“What movie do you want to watch?” Kevin asked as he turned on the tv. 

“Oh anything - I don’t really care.” You replied, curling up on the couch. Kevin chose a documentary, but it wasn’t really watched as the two of you ate and caught up on the day's events.

After dinner, the two of you cleaned up. You were rinsing a plate when you felt Kevin come up to you, him pressing into your back. You shivered as his lips touched your skin, trailing down kisses down the slope of your neck.

“Mmm, babe, I want to,” you protested, “but I told you, it’s that time of the month.”

“Did you know, having an orgasm can help relieve cramps?” Kevin murmured into your ear as one hand slipped under your tank top to cup your tit. He rolled your nipple with his thumb and forefinger.

“I don’t know… I have never…” You continued to protest. Kevin removed his hand from your tit and slipped down and into the waistband of your sweatpants. 

“Babe, I don’t want…” You protested once more, but Kevin ignored it as his hand pushed past the waistband of your panties and cupping your cunt. The back of his hand felt the material of what he assumed was your maxi pad. He was pleased you chose to wear one instead of your usual tampons. Kevin’s fingers quickly found your clitoris and he began to rub it in soft circles. He directed his mouth back to your neck, sucking marks into your skin. You moaned and closed your eyes as you gripped the lip of the sink as he continued to play with you. “Kev, I … oh fuck.”

Kevin could feel your wetness grow and he wondered how much of it was your arousal versus actual menstrual blood.  He slipped his hand from inside and brought it to his face, his eyes darkening at the sight of your arousal streaked with some blood.

You happened to turn around to face him and you swallowed hard as you watched him suck his fingers clean.  You opened your mouth to say something and instead you crushed your lips to his, in a rough kiss. Your hands tangled into his hair as you kissed him, hungry and desperate. “Join me in our bed.”

Kevin picked you up and smacked your ass as he brought you to the bedroom. Once in the bedroom, Kevin gave you a wicked grin before making quick removal of his clothes, his cock hard, red, and weeping. 

 “You trust me?” Kevin asked, breathless as he stood over your form. 

You nodded. “Of course.” 

You thought Kevin was going to make way to the chest in front of the bed where the two of you kept various sex toys. Instead he went to his side of the dresser and pulled out a fixed blade knife, about 5 to 6 inches in total length, with about a 3-inch blade. You scrambled up slightly, fear coursing through you as the night seemed to take an unprecedented turn.

Kevin took a step towards you, causing you to jump once more. You felt cemented in place as all you wanted to do was run but you were too panicked to do so. Kevin noticed and his gaze softened momentarily.

“I am not going to hurt you - I promise. It is sharp on one side and dull on the other.” Kevin explained as he played with the knife. 

“Kevin - I don’t know…” You stammered, feeling tears well. “I love you but…”

“Shhh, relax.” Kevin replied, sitting next to you. “I am going to make you feel so good. I’m gonna put my time in. You never live 'til you risk your life.”

He pressed his lips to yours once more, kissing you gently and softly. “Trust me.” He took the knife and ghosted it under your tank top, the feel of the cold blade grazing your skin. Your heart began to beat faster and goosebumps covered your skin.

“You’re a little crazy, but I'm just your type.” You murmured.

Kevin brought the knife back up from under. He grabbed at your tank top with his other hand and jerked up with the knife in one sharp motion, tearing the material with a pained rip. You gasped as he did so. Kevin ran the blade up between the valley of your breasts before tracing the tip around your already so sensitive nipples. His hand made way down your sweatpants again, finding its way easily to your pussy. You let out a groan as he sunk a finger inside of you. As he stroked you, Kevin continued to run the knife along your body. Part of his psyche urged him to nick you, but he fought against that, focusing on your moans to keep him locked into reality.

Kevin could feel your walls flutter against his fingers, so he slipped his fingers out of you, much to your protest. He grabbed the hem of your sweatpants and pulled them down. Kneeling in front of you, he spread your legs apart. 

“Kevin - no, that’s too much.” You protested again. Kevin took the knife and ran it along your inner thighs before bringing it to the waistband of your panties, and repeated the actions from earlier, tearing the material with ease. 

Kevin dropped the knife and encouraged you to lift your hips to remove the ruined material. Then his mouth was on your hot, wet core, eating you out as if he were a man starved. He dragged his tongue around, tasting you and enjoying the mixture of your arousal and slight metallic taste of your blood.  Your body arched in response and he moved his arm to lay it over you to keep you in place. Kevin kept a steady pace on you, watching your face as you gasped and moaned as he brought you to the edge. His teeth nipped your clit as he stroked that sensitive spot. 

“Kev, oh shit, fuck, I am gonna- fuck, gonna c--” You voice faltered as you came hard around his mouth. As more of your arousal and blood mixed into his mouth, his arousal surged through his body as if something animalistic and primal was awoken. 

You barely had a moment to come down, before Kevin was over you. He pushed your knees up and sunk his cock into you. You let out a gasp as he bottomed out and began to fuck you hard, and furious. Your foreheads touch and you pulled his face to yours, streaked with red. He captured your lips once more, and you gasp against his mouth. “Fuck me harder Kevin, give it to me.” 

Kevin growls and picks up his pace. He pounds into your mercilessly, gripping you hard and you know come morning, you would be very much sore and his marks would remain as evidence of this night.

You angled your hips, finding friction against your clit and you can  feel your orgasm begin to crest. Kevin was now chasing his own release, getting closer and closer. He let out a deep guttural groan as he stilled, coming deep inside of you. You reached between finding your clit and you rubbed until your own release crashed over you, moaning Kevin’s name.

Kevin slumped over you, and you continued to cling to him, your bodies sweaty and sticky. A thought comes across your mind and you let out a giggle. Kevin raises his head and your eyes rake over the smatters of dried blood on his face.

“I guess you earned your red wings. Oh my god, did I just say that? Still can’t believe we did that.” 

Kevin removes his now softened cock from you, and he can’t help but spread your legs apart, watching his come drip out of you, no longer virginal white.  A smile spreads on his face as he slips his fingers back into your cunt. You let out another moan as he starts stroking you once more. He leaned closely to you, his eyes meeting yours.

“Out of curiosity, how long does your period last?” 

FIN.

[red-becca]

Swapping Styles For A Day

I know I said that I won't be posting anything new until Revin week came but I just had to share this new thing I just wrote. It's the two swapping closets, so basically Red's dressed like a geek and Kevin's dressed... Uh, something cool and nothing like Kevin wears bc I see Red as a girl with multiple fashion styles.

Another reason why I am putting this up is because I would love to see art of this. Like imagine Kevin with make- up and like black nail polish and a piercing. Maybe a skirt too? He doesn't put a skirt on here bc I don't see him being confident enough for it just yet.

Also, please don't judge the ending. I didn't know how to end it but I did my best. :/

---

Kevin gulped as his girlfriend had a self- piercing gun in her hands, shaking as she got it ready on his right ear. "D- do we r-really have to do this, Red?"

Red raised a brow as she pulled the piercing device away from his ear, adjusting the glasses she had on. "No, we don't. But you kept on insisting we do this to me all day... So, what? Did you change your mind once we got to piercing your ears?"

"Well, did you have to get pierced ears, Red?! You know, you could have gone through your whole life without piercing your ears..." Kevin nervously rubbed one of his ears.

"I know that but I just... wanted to get my ears pierced. For funsies, I guess." Red shrugged, rubbing her own ears. "Alright, Kev... What's it gonna be? Like you said, you don't have to get it..."

He rubbed his ear some more as he bit his bottom lip before sighing. "I'm doing it! You have pierced ears, so I should get at least one of my ears pierced for tomorrow! Do it, Red! Just do it already!" The male grabs hold of her free hands and squeezes it tightly.

"Okay, if you say so... Great. Now, I'm nervous for you..." Red gulped a bit as she positioned the piercing gun onto his right ear again. "Alright then... One, two, three!" She pierces his right ear lobe once she finished counting.

Kevin screamed at the top of his lungs which makes Red scream at the top of hers. After a few seconds, they had calmed down and Red puts a simple black earring on his newly pierced ear.

"You know there are such things as clip on earrings, right?" Red calmed herself down while handing Kevin a mirror. "We could have just gotten those kinds of earrings for you instead of making ourselves scream there for piercing your ears..."

"Yeah, I do..." Kevin grabs the mirror and admired the new piercing he got. "But it wouldn't have felt authentic to what we have planned for tomorrow, I guess... I don't know. You did a pretty good job with it though. It looks good."

"Heh, thanks. I never even used anything like this before. I had my ears pierced by a professional, after all." She snickered as she looked at the piercing gun in her eyes. "And please, what you have planned for tomorrow... Remember, this is all your idea..." Red rolled her eyes, lying on her bed and putting her glasses on top of her head. "I have no idea where you got the idea of partners swapping closets but it is cute, not gonna lie. But also hard for us, seeing as I have such a wide style of clothes to chose from. I don't have just one aesthetic I regularly stick to. Meanwhile, you just have... Geek." She gestured to his current outfit before snickering again.

"Hey!" Kevin opened his mouth then quickly shut it, pouting as he got up to sit next to her. "Okay, maybe that's true... But like, that's why I let you dress me from time to time. I can see how my geek style can get a little redundant." He yelped when Red suddenly hugged him and made him lie next to her. "Umm, what's this for?"

"To tell you this right to your face, Mister. I may love dressing you and it's fun from time to time, I still like how you regularly dress the most. That's your unique style and one of the many reasons why I fell for you. You are one adorable geek, my Captain." She kisses his cheek, leaving a lipstick mark on it. "Though, for tomorrow, I guess that's gonna change, huh? So, how do you feel about putting on make-up for tomorrow?"

He gulped nervously, gesturing to her face. "Nothing like... This intense, right? Don't get me wrong! There is absolutely nothing wrong with males wearing make-up. But I am a little intimidated when it comes to more intense looks like yours..."

"Intense looks like mine?" She snickered before bursting out in laughter. "Please, it's Goth make-up that looks really intense. I am more diet goth in a way. I don't think any of those intense looks goth do will suit me, anyway. But you know, pretending to be a dark angel awoken something in me that day... It made me want to try some looks that don't border on straight up goth." She cleared her throat. "Anyway, my usual make-up look is just a bit of eyeliner, light blush and then dark colored lipstick so it'll pop out against my bright asshole red hair. That's it, pretty simple really."

"Hey! No!" Kevin pouted angrily at her, gently cupping her cheeks as he looks right into her eyes. "Your gorgeous red hair is one of the many things I love about you, Red. Do not just insult it like that."

"Hmm? Oh, Kevin, honey. I love you so much." She smiles softly as she gave him a few Eskimo kisses. "I just meant that as an expression, okay? You can't really deny that my hair is an overwhelmingly bright red color, right?"

"Mmm, I guess not... But still! No more insulting your hair like that!" His pout grew which makes Red kiss him on the lips. "Hey, I'm being serious here!"

Red smirked as she got up, putting her glasses back on properly. "Oh, were you now? I thought you were begging for a kiss there~" She teased, winking before opening up her closet. "I am very thankful to past me on buying the same shirts you have in my size! What with wanting to match every now and again" She giggles as she pulls out a bunch of geek t-shirts from her closet. "I know the whole thing is swapping closets but let's be real here... There is no way I am fitting in anything that isn't a jacket from your closet... Well, maybe a crop top fit but I don't really wanna freeze, tomorrow..."

"Hey! We're swapping closets tomorrow! Just what do you think you're doing, Red?!" He sat up as he gave her a serious expression, his arms crossed.

"I know, I know. Calm down, sweetie. I'm just picking out my options of clothes for tomorrow, okay? Because it would be much more quicker for us tomorrow if I just wear what I already picked out than going through my closet for the whole day, okay? Okay!" She beamed and smiled at him as she looked through her closet for something Kevin could wear tomorrow. "So, about the make-up, Kev... You didn't really give me a clear answer, you know."

"I didn't? Well, like I said, nothing too crazy. I'm fine with some lipstick and a bit of eyeliner. But that's about it, I guess. So, yes?" He shrugged then made a noise when Red threw a shirt at him.

"Alright! Good! And how about a skirt? Are you okay with wearing something like that tomorrow?" She threw a few bottom options at him. "Because if not, there are short shorts and ripped skinny jeans..."

"A skirt? I mean, I think guys should be allowed to wear skirts and stuff but I'm not really sure if it'll look good on someone like me..." He hummed. "So, if it's okay with you, I think I'll just stick with the ripped skinny jeans."

"Oh, Kev! Of course, I am! It's not like I always just wear a skirt, after all. I switch it up every now and again. And I get not having enough confidence to wear a skirt... It's not easy for guys who want to try it to just immediately wear it in public without being ridiculed. So, I'm not gonna force you to wear something you don't want to wear." She smiled before sighing, lying in bed again. "Okay, I know I said I wanna plan our outfits for tomorrow but I am beat... What else is there?"

"Hmm..." Kevin played with some of his hair which immediately gave him an idea. "Oh! I know! Since you have such an amazingly crazy hair color, I probably should have one too! But you know, more stylized... Something like..." He taps on his chin. "Luka from Miraculous Ladybug!"

"Oh my God, I always wanted to try out the way his hair is colored on you! But never found the right reason to!" She giggles as she plays with his hair. "Until now, I guess... I feel like we should work on that now because I know that will take a long time."

He nodded. "Alright, let's go shopping for the things we need!" He stands up then turns to face Red. "So, that's the last thing we will be doing to prepare for tomorrow, right? We have picked out the clothes we are going to wear tomorrow, haven't we?"

"We sure have! Now, come on! Let's go!" Red beamed, suddenly getting a burst of energy as she got up from her bed and pulls Kevin out her home.

*time skip to tomorrow because idk how to write them dying Kevin's hair...*

"I'm gonna be honest, Red... I didn't think my hair would end up looking good after dying it..." Kevin continued to admire the work his girlfriend had done with his hair in the bathroom mirror. He had been doing this ever since she finished.

"It's not the first time I dyed hair, Kev... It was way easier this time on someone other than myself." Red snickered as she adjusts her glasses before looking into the mirror. "God, it's weird to not be putting my contacts on when going out. Hell, this will be my first time going out with my prescription glasses..." She examines her reflection while putting her hair up in a simple ponytail.

Kevin finally exited the bathroom, unable to contain the blush and smile on his face as he hugged Red from behind. "Wow, Red... Despite dressing up like a geek, you sure still look so beautiful..."

"Hmm?" Red looked down to face him, blushing at his compliments. "Oh, uh... Thank you, Kev... And you... You sure look more damn handsome with what you're wearing right now."

"Oh? I do? Really? Thanks!" Kevin beamed up at her, giving her a dorky grin which makes her blush more.

"Yes, you really do... And uh, you're welcome. Fuck, I honestly didn't think make- up would make you look even more attractive! But here you are before me looking... Gorgeous! That's just the magic of make- up, I guess..." She covers half her face to hid her blushing.

"Right! The make-up! I mean, I felt you put it on me earlier but I don't even feel it on me right now! Like it feels natural almost." He giggles as he looks down on his nails. "My nails, too! You painting them black feels oddly natural too!"

Red pouts as she looks down at her clear nails. "You don't usually wear nail polish, so I feel weird without wearing nail polish for a day. But I was not gonna give up make- up. I need to put the lightest amount of make- up I could. What with my obvious imperfections in my face, after all."

"Well, with or without make- up, I think you are still the most beautiful girl in the world." Kevin gets on his tiptoes to kiss Red on the cheek, gasping when he left a mark on it and points at where he marked her. "Oh! Now, I marked you with lipstick!"

Red turns to look at the mark he left, giggling as she wiped it off. "Now, while it does compliment the look, I personally like it without this..." She pulls out a black beanie. "Then again, I don't want you getting cold..."

"You say that as I wear a slight crop top along with ripped skinny jeans..." He snickered. "But anyway, yeah. Let me have it. At least my head will be warm..." He grabs the hat from her hold and puts it on top of his head with Red adjusting it a bit.

"And there we are! Our completed swapped closet looks! Ready to go out and have people be staring at you, Kev?" Red asked him as she offered an arm out to him.

"Of course, I a- Wait, staring at me? Why would they be staring at me? You are the more attractive one between the two of us! And before you disagree, may I remind you just how many guys from our school, to this day, still say they have a crush on you?"

Red snickered, grabbing hold of his hand. "Well, you are wearing something very eye-catching... So, trust me when I say that people will be staring at my super hot boyfriend. I mean, I always knew he was hot from the start but this look just really elevates his hotness scale..." She kisses his cheek before walking out of her bedroom with him.

"I, uh... Same with you, I guess?" Kevin got completely flustered at her compliments. "But you know, I would prefer seeing you as very beautiful no matter what you wear."

She giggles as she looks at him before smirking as she saw people staring at them. "See? What did I say? You're the eye candy between the two of us for today..."

He gulped and shyly hides behind her. "I hate it whenever you're right, sometimes... How do you even deal with all these people staring at you, Red?"

She hummed before making him look into her eyes by putting a finger under his chin. "Simple, I remind myself that I have the most amazing person right next to me. Then my confidence just skyrockets..."

His attention wasn't at her words whatsoever as he blushed while looking back at her. "Even in the most geeky clothing, you manage to make me swoon..."

The redhead playfully rolls her eyes at him fawning over her, squeezing his hand that she was still holding. "Focus, Kev... Remember, I'm right here. No one else matters, okay? Just ignore all the staring and focus on me."

Kevin shook his head to stop himself from swooning, nodding with a brand new confident look on his face. "Okay, I got it. Thanks, Red. You gave me the perfect amount of confidence I need."

Red didn't say anything more, simply nodding back as they continued about their day. Not caring if people were staring because they found them attractive or if it was because they looked silly. All that mattered to them was each other.

[popculturebuffet]

The Jeffersons: Sorry, Wrong Meeting (Comission by WeirdKev27) (Black History Month)

Welcome on up! HAPPY BLACK HISTORY MONTH!  Yup i’m going to spend a good chunk of the month celebrating the best and brightest in black characters in animation, amid valentine’s coverage in the first half and a few bits of the usual stuff throughout. But i’m still throughly dedicated to showing off some of the finest media about black struggles and starring black characters, and going through it the best I can as a white dumbass. If I slip up or misinterpret something, never be afraid to call me on it, but I feel I can still try my best to honor these amazing characters who’ve brought such joy to my life and these wonderful stories.  So starting us off is a commission from Kev that’s been sitting in the queue for far too long. And it’s not due to lack of intrest: While before today I’d never seen an episode of the Jeffersons, I had seen the live performance of an episode done for that live with norman lear thing nbc did in 2019, and it was excellent and piqued my intrest. But with me never thinking to get the dvd’s, and not having Starz nor really wanting starz, there was no real easy way to stream it. But a few episodes were on DailyMotion, so I was fine with reviewing it for Kev and giving this series an honest try and the fact the episode dealt with white supremacy, at a time where we’d JUST gotten rid of a bigoted, white nationalist backing, piece of shit president, I was naturally all for it, I just never thought to clear space on my schedule and by the time I was scheduling things better, I purposfully saved it for this month as while the Klan isn’t as prominent, assholes like them sure are. And given the Captial Riots last month with sedionsits shitheads proudly waving the confederate flag around, I’d say this episode is even MORE relevant than ever. 

But before we can dive into why this one is so good, yeah i’m not going to hide it this is a really fantastic episode of television, we have to talk about the series itself. The Jeffersons was created by Norman Lear, a progressive and prolific television writer and producer who is a legend in the business for damn good reason. He created All in the Family, which shattered norms and standards for the time, and would go on to create Sanford and Son, Maude and Good Times, all to massive sucess. However this show came about because the Black Panthers showed up one day at his office to raise a valid point: While he did have black characters in his tv shows they were mostly poor and barely scraping by, with his two black lead sitcoms dealing with characters in object poverty. And while this was still a worthy subject to tackle.. they were absolutely right there should be a counterbalance to that, to show the obvious truth black people CAN be successful. Norman agreed and set to work. Norman already had the perfect lead for that: George Jefferson, an opinnated dry-cleaner with several sucessful stores. George was, and still is, a fascenating character with lairs: being cranky and curmodgenly as you’d expect with some fairly average sitcom quirks: He loves money, often overspends on flashy stuff to revel in his sucess, snarks at his maid and likes to scheme as a sitcom character can. He’s also in the early seasons a bigot himself, not really fond of white people or interacial marraige, which naturally makes living next to an interacial couple and their daughter marrying his son thorns in his side. But as far as I can tell from looking on wikipedia he does soften with time and grow as a person and by this episode he’s fine putting up with both his neighbor Tom, said guy married to a black woman and his goofy british neighbor, if snarky as hell because hey, that’s who he is. I bring this up for reasons related to the climax, trust me. 

So eventually the Jefferson's moved on up to that deluxe apartment in the sky, hell of a theme song, and got into their own adventures with the aforementioned supporting characters.. and so here we are. And after the cut we’ll take a look at just why this sitcom is awesome, why I desperately want to get some dvds for it at some point now or a starz trial, and how much the klan sucks. 

We open at the Jefferson’s Deluxe Apartment in the Sky. where his wife Wheezy and aforementioned maid Florence are preparing to take a CPR class.. which were that possible I certainly would after this episode, as I feel Florence is right in stating it’s a skill everyone should have. She also remarks that George had every employee at his drycleaners take it, even if it was because he got an insurance writeoff. But hey, doing something that can help your workers and customers in an emergency even if i’ts just to save money is sitll better than MOST businesses these days so props to him. There’s also naturally some banter and it’s really damn funny. As with my Darkwing Duck reviews,, I won’t be going into it bit by bit, but it’s good stuff and holds up REALLY well. To me that’s the mark of a good sitcom, one that can show it’s age.. but still make you laugh, think or cry all the same. So yeah in less than a scene the show had won me over.  So as the ladies depart for CPR class, George’s peace is soon interupted by Harry Bently, british person and wacky neighbor. Aka me if I were british and lived in the 70′s. He returns a tv guide, last weeks hence why he’s done with it, and ther’es some schtick and what not before Tom Willis runs in, upset because he’s been robbed. They took all his stuff, and while he’s thankfull his wife’s gone for the week so she didn’t have to be there for this, he’s obviously worried and suggests forming a building watch to prevent this, with Harry on board. George.. has no time for this nonsense, and after making a joke about Florence in curlers scaring them of, bredguringly agrees to attend if someone else starts it then slams the door on them once their out the door.  At CPR, our heroines volunteer enthusastically and meet the cpr dummy. resuscannie.. I don’t know how to spell that and frankly I don’t wanna because she is FUCKING terrifying. 

She looks like she’s going to come to life and strangle me. She looks like a hollowed out corpse doll a serial killer makes. She looks like something Charles lee ray would rnasfer into. She looks like Micheal Meyers grandmother. She looks like the corpse of Jason’s mom come back for revenge. She looks like sue sylvester transferred herself into an auton. Look I could go on, but the series does make jabs at the thing and most cpr dummies are objectively terrifying, so fair play to them. After some more gags, things.. take a turn. Part of what makes this episode so effective to me is this turn. It starts with, and even goes back to after this for a bit, some sitcom gags and cliches.. but it lulls you into thinking this will be an average episode... so when the instuctor asks two men to go next, an older man and his college age looking son refuse to participate.. and their reason is he refuses to touch anything tha’ts been touched by a ... well he uses a certain word and let’s just say you know what it is, I know what it it is and if I could’ve reached inside my computer and choked the life out of hte man, I fucking would’ve. 

Yeah turns out these two are KKK, with the older asshole leading the local chapter and their about as reasonable or likeable as you’d expect with Wheezy BARELY holding Florence back from giving them a well deserved thrashing, and only doing so because it’d both sink to their level and because they’d just use it as more fuel for their racist bullshit. And that’s WHY this works so well: It seems excactly like a normal episode.. until it suddenly isn’t. Until suddenly things are a lot darker, a lot more tense, but the easing into it means it still feels like the same unvierse. To me the good “very special episodes”, are the ones that use this: that ease into the heavy topic before punching you in the face with it and tackle it with nuance and skill. A Diffrent World has a TON of episodes like this, and it’s why it’s one of my faviorite sitcoms: it tackles a lot of really heavy topics with  a steady brush and while it can be heavy handed, sometimes heavy hands are necesary to carry a heavy topic.  The racists showing up suddenly also fits because Racists hide in plain sight. You don’t know someone you know is prejudice or some stranger is till they reveal themselves. They could show up any time anywhere and you can’t be ready. And I cant possibly claim to know what that’s like, but I’m sad that in this nation of ours this shit has never, and probably will never go away. So it fits that our antagonist shows up out of nowhere, having until now perfectly blended in with the other suited white guys in the class. Naturally, the instructor orders them to fucking leave and naturally klan monster makes some big white suprimacist speil. And being a sitcom he runs into Tom, with Tom mistaking him for talking abotu the crime and White Supremacist mistaking Tom for a fellow racist. Tom decides to invite george.. and while it’s clumsily framed as a wacky sitcom misunderstanding.. it’s very clear things just got VERY dangerous. 

Speaking of George he’s awoken from his nap by the ladies who are both still worried and while he goes into his usual digs on florence, and questions why she needs her bat... he instnatly sides with her and prepares to go kick some racist ass once he finds out what happened. It’s a nice shift, as it once again breaks the tranquil normalcy of this sitcom with the violence of racisim. And while there was no phsyical violence form the asshole.. to me racisim itself is still a form of violence. Thinking you are suprerior to another race just because your skin’s a diffrent color and wanting them gone or not to be near you is in itself violent to me. And while Wheezy again has good reason for holding George back, tihs is just what the fuckers want, Geroge is also right: right NOW it’s talk.. but how long before they start burning stuff on thier balcony or come for htem in the night? there’s.. no easy answer her, no easy solution.. just a man fearing for his life justifably whose probably been through this time, and time, and time again, dealt with his buisnesses being vandalized and his life being threatend and probably been beaten some too JUST for being a black business owner. So it’s understandable he’s fucking fed up and just wants them gone. Tom naturally invites him to the meeting., and harry agrees, botht hinking i’ts just a floor meeting and not a disguised KKK Rally. 

So at the meeting, the KKK Fuck does his spiela nd tries to assure them that “what you’ve heard about us is wrong”. And again this si part of what makes the episode resonate: guys like this try to make themselves seem resonable. THat “Their not racist” their the right ones and your wrong for wanting equality. It’s why these movements gain traction, they tap into people’s inner ugliness and disastifaction with life and give them an easy target for it. It’s what the president did for four years, i’ts what his sycophants at fox news CONTINUE to do: try and present being a racist, homophobic, xenophobic peace of shit as a viable and stable option when all it makes you is a racist , a coward and a dinosaur who can’t accept change or things difffrent than you.  When this guy eventually goes into a rant, as George showing up triggers it and Tom and Harry dont’ take his shit for as econd, with tom proudly mentioning his black wife, and both holding George back for the same reasons Wheezy did with Florence, he talks abotu them “taking our property and destroying our homes”.. and it all sounds EERILY like when Tucker Carlson went on about property damage during the black lives matter protests last year... and as a wise tucan in a suit once said, fuck you tucker. And as John didn’t say but I certainly will, I Hope you choke on your own spray tan you racist seditionist prick. My point is this sort of rhetoric, trying to frame black people as the enemy.. never fucking went away and is on cable news every night. It was in our white house for four long years. It won’t go away and probably never will and everyone of every race has to be on guard to find these pricks and make sure their message is drowned out with love. And that’s what makes this whole thing relevant: that these pricks hide in plain sight and mask their arugments with civlities.. but at the end of day are just hateful monsters who just want a scapegoat for their problems or even may just hate because it’s easy, or because they just wnat to and don’t need an excuse to be the worst human garbage imaginable. 

It makes what happens next all the better: Asshole has a heart attack, HORAY, and no one knows CPR since the kid walked out on the class with his dad before they actually learned it. George relucntantly sighs.. and knows what he has to do. He goes and saves the fuckers life. And that, friends, is why I brought up George’s racist past and i’m glad I knew about it giong in: because it shows how far he’s come. From hating white people.. to saving the WORST of the WORST of white people.  He regrets it of course, saying the guy should’ve died, and that he won’t be greatful and he’ll just keep on hating.. but his friends point out the truth: George was the bigger man. He saved the life of a man who hated him just for existing and who’d gladly have him lynched if he could and was trying to run him out of his rightful place in the building, because it was the right thing to do. Because that fucker sure as hell wouldn’t. Because despite being a monster.. it’s still a life.. and he can waste it however he pleases.. but he’ll now ALWAYS know a black man saved it. George may regret his decison.. in the dark, where no body would blame him for letting the fucker die or even know he could’ve saved him until he got home, and his wife would’ve barely blamed him, he still choose to save the worst of humanity proving depsite his curmodgnley nature, he’s some of the best of it.  It dosen’t change the asshole, he leaves on a gurney telling his son “You should’ve let me die”. George is unsuprised and leaves with his friends. And I do like this: the racist dosen’t MAGICALLY change because he’s saved by a black man, he’s still a fucking monster. And that is what sets him apart from George: Whiel George was a bigot, he not only never went as far as this monster, but he changed. He learned to let go of his hate as it was eating him alive, and while he certailnly and rightfully won’t let go of his resintment for white people, he’s accepted he can’t hate ALL of them for what some did to him. This asshole has no such excuse and no such growth, he probably died being the same miserable piece of shit he was , resenting forever a black man saved him. And that’s hwo it should end.. youc an’t save everyone and you can’t change a person that dosen’t want to. George changed only because he wanted to and he realized he was wrong evne if he’s loath to admit it. This guy wont’ and never will becuse some racist pieces of shit just will never accept the truth that all people were created equal.

His son though clearly has, thanking George before he leaves, and later as the rest of the meeting, realizing what these people are and what they plan on, leave as the assholes right hand man tries to continue said son refuses to acknowlegde him rips up the poster and leaves. See the old man not changing worked.. but so too does this.. showing some simply dont’ know better and some CAN change.. but like George.. they have to WANT to change. Only you can change you. And hopefully it’s for hte better. 

This episode was excellent as i’ve made clear, and I don’t have honestly much to add to it. It was a pleasure and black lives matter. 

[halstudandruz]

Competition

*Not my gif*

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Requested: Yes

Prompt: You’re done vying for Jay’s attention when it comes to Hailey

Warnings: Swearing

I’m more of a jealous person than I’d like to admit. Although I do think I hide it well. Jay and I always had a flirty relationship ever since my first day in intelligence. I was told Voight had originally planned to partner us together, but changed his mind quickly putting me with Kevin after he caught on to Jay and I’s flirting. We kind of had an implied relationship. Fooled around, stayed at each other apartment’s most nights, bickered every so often. It was pretty much your typical relationship although we never did put a label on it. Kim had always pushed me to sit down and have “the talk” with him, but I just never felt it was necessary. I figured we both knew it was a thing so why put us through something awkward. However, whenever Hailey came into intelligence I began to second guess my thoughts more and more. Hailey was partnered with Jay, and I’m not going to lie she intimidated me upon her arrival. She was pretty, smart, strong, and just over all a morally good person and cop. It worried me more whenever Jay seemed to shift our flirty relationship over to Hailey. I tried to convince myself I was being crazy, but it just made me uncomfortable and honestly quite jealous. It was becoming increasingly more intolerable by the days. I did as best as I could to not let my relationship effect my job. I mean that was Voight’s one rule, but I didn’t realize how hard it would be. I felt like I was being childish, but working with Hailey was just uncomfortable. I knew she had only been in the unit about a month, but she had to know Jay and I had a thing. Jay had to have told her. Right?

“Am I just being overly jealous?” I asked Kim glancing over to Jay and Hailey goofing off together.

“I don’t know it seems pretty weird.” Kim agreed with me. “I told you, you should’ve had the talk.” Kim scolded.

“Okay, well I figured it was just implied.” I wined.

“I love Jay and all, but he’s a guy [Y/N]. You can’t just rely on things to be implied with them.” Kim explained. I sighed heavily knowing she was right.

“She’s just needs to stop being a hoe.” I crossed my arms seeing red whenever I seen Jay brush Hailey’s hair out of her face.

“Unfortunately, it works both ways hun.” Kim scrunched her face towards them. I seen Jay glance over at me as I stormed off towards the break room. I began to make a new pot of coffee whenever I heard Jay come in behind me.

“What’s wrong?” Jay asked.

“Nothing.” I answered shrugging.

“Yeah it really seems like nothing.” Jay said giving me a look.

“I’m fine. Just tired.” I replied.

“Well I did keep you pretty busy last night.” Jay smirked leaning against the counter beside me. I couldn’t help the chuckle that came out of me.

“Shut up, get back to work.” I rolled my eyes pushing his chest. He laughed loudly turning to walk back out. The unit had decided to go out to Molly’s together that night. It had been a long week and we just wanted to have fun on a Friday night.

“Where are we staying tonight?” Jay yelled from the kitchen as I was getting dressed.

“We can stay at your place. I just need to pack a bag.” I answered.

“I’m pretty sure you’ve accumulated enough clothes at my place to not have to pack anything.” Jay laughed walking in my room to sit on the bed.

“That’s probably true.” I shrugged still grabbing a few things to throw in my purse. “Who’s all going tonight?” I asked trying to be casual as I walked into the bathroom to grab a few more things.

“Kev, Adam, Kim, Hailey, I’m not sure if Antonio is going to be there or not.” Jay answered making me sigh heavily. “What?” He asked.

“Nothing. Come on I’m ready.” I said grabbing my purse walking towards the door where he followed. When we arrived at Molly’s everyone was already there seated around a table. There was a seat open next to Kevin and one next to Hailey. I hesitated not wanting to sit next to Hailey, but also not wanting Jay to sit next to her. He beat me to it though walking past me and sliding right up next to her. I composed myself before walking over sliding in next to Kevin.

“Hey [Y/L/N], nice of you to finally show up.” Kevin joked making me roll my eyes.

“Pretty boy over there likes to take hour long showers.” I said nodding my head towards Jay hoping Hailey would hear, but her and Jay were already emersed in conversation. The night was full of drinks and jokes. Jay pretty much focused on Hailey the entire night barely acknowledging me. Our group was spread across the bar, but Kim and Adam were seated at the counter with me. I finally lost my cool whenever I watched Jay whisper in Hailey’s ear which she replied by running her hand up and down Jay’s thigh. “Yeah nope that’s it I’m going home.” I told them.

“What the hell is he doing.” Adam said wide eyed at what was happening. “You know Hailey isn’t like that right? It has to be cause she’s drunk.” Adam continued.

“It’s okay. I don’t care anymore, it’s my fault.” I sighed grabbing my purse saying goodbye to the two and carefully sneaking out so nobody else saw me. I called an Uber to get me back to my apartment. I was so angry and hurt that I couldn’t really feel anything. I just felt emotionless. It was my fault. I should’ve listened to Kim, but it was too late now. I just couldn’t believe after everything we had done in the last few months that he would even back out like that. I walked into my apartment throwing my bag on the couch and heading straight for my bedroom. I got changed, and put my phone on do not disturb not wanting to deal with anything or anyone. Eventually the tears did start to roll down my face just as I fell asleep. I was awoken by a loud banging at my door. I groaned getting up to answer it. Looking through the peephole I seen Jay standing outside with his phone to his ear. I contemplated opening it but decided to do so. As soon as I open the door he came flying in wrapping me in a hug.

“What the hell [Y/N]!?” Jay yelled.

“Would you lower your voice! It’s 3 in the fucking morning. People are sleeping.” I said harshly shutting the door behind him. “Why are you yelling at me anyway?” I asked.

“I’ve been calling and texting you for the last 2 hours and it just kept going to voicemail, I was worried sick.” He explained reaching for my hand, but I backed up.

“Probably because I didn’t want to talk to you.” I retorted crossing my arms.

“Why? I thought we were staying at my place tonight what happened? You just disappeared.” He asked confused.

“You’re joking right now right? You can’t be serious.” I laughed.

“I am so confused.” Jay admitted wide eyed at my anger.

“I’m done Jay. I’m not doing this anymore.” I explained causing him to be taken back.

“Wait what? What do you mean? What’s going on?” Jay panicked reaching for me but failing when I backed up once again.

“I’m sick of feeling like I’m in competition with Hailey, and I refuse to do it anymore. I don’t know what I was thinking. I don’t know why I thought that this was a thing, but I know now it’s not. I was stupid enough to fall in love with someone who was just messing around with me, and that’s on me.” I whispered feeling a huge lump in my throat despite the few tears that were now rolling down my face. Realization and shock came over Jay’s face.

“I’m such a fucking idiot.” He sighed running a hand down his face. “Can you please come here.” He begged reaching out for me. I shook my head no standing still. He dropped his hand, hurt and guilt clear on his face. “Hailey and I have nothing going on. It sounds stupid now, but I liked seeing you jealous. I thought it was cute. I liked knowing you were worried about losing me. But now I know I took it too far.” He explained.

“Ya think?” I asked still angry.

“I’m so sorry. I promise I would never hurt you on purpose. I love you so much. I’m sorry baby.” Jay pleased walking towards me slowly. I stood still arms still crossed but also not moving backwards. I could feel my heart beating rapidly at his confession knowing he had never said it before. He reached me pulling me in his arms. I gave in grabbing his biceps and stuffing my face into his chest his scent overwhelming me.

“So what is this? What are we?” I asked figuring now would be a good time to take Kim’s advice.

“Are you really asking that?” Jay laughed.

“Well I didn’t think I had to, but someone had to go and be a manwhore.” I huffed.

“I was not being a manwhore.” Jay said eyebrow raised amusement on his face.

“You keep telling yourself that.” I glared at him.

“Okay well if you’re okay with it I would be more than happy to spend my life with you by my side.” Jay smiled bringing his hand up to cup my cheek.

“You sure about that? Cause I’m sure Hailey would jump at the chance to-“ I began to tease him.

“Babeeeeee come on.” Jay whined causing me to giggle.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” I smirked looking at him making him chuckle.

“I hope you know how much I love you.” Jay whispered leaning down to kiss me. Luckily after Hailey was informed of the situation she apologized profusely to me and just about killed Jay.

[ask-super-good-advice]

Backasswards Fireteam

So, I scribbled out a story about a very, very dysfunctional fireteam for the Written in Light event, but I may or may not have exceeded the word limit by double, and since that is far too much content to edit out, I decided I might as well put it here... 

Why do I punch my foes like a Titan?  Why have I abandoned my knife?

It’s simple, really. My knife is evil.

But you wouldn’t tell by looking at it.  You might think it is a creepy knife, or has an odd theme, or just looks edgy, and you would be correct.  Never let it be said that I wasn’t a true Hunter, from my cape to my knife.  Once my Fireteam, Fireteam Green and Yellow, was assigned to the moon on blanket Hive-extermination tour, we all saw our opportunity.  In the great tradition of Guardians, we stick it to our enemies by decorating ourselves in the bones of our enemies.  For my Titan and Fireteam leader, Reggie-12, that meant dismembering Hive Knights to create a perfect set of chitin armor.  For our Awoken Warlock, Sara Kev Ro, it meant a (ugly) patchwork robe made from Hive Wizards’ robes.  For myself, it meant sowing thrall bones to myself to look like a spooky skeleton.  My team did not appreciate my flippant approach to such a sacred rite of Guardians, and I didn’t appreciate getting sent to the moon, so we were even.

After a few days, Sara approached me with a smirk on her face, and I thought she was ready to go at it again with another round of “who dresses better.”  Hint: the Hunter.  But no, she had her hands behind her back, and told me she had a peace offering.  Instead of admitting that Warlocks look tacky (which would have been the best peace offering), she handed me a new knife she had created herself, and it wasn’t like any other knife I had ever seen.

The blade resembled something of a Bowie knife with a meaty blade, and it shone with a stranger silver I didn’t recognize.  Upon further inspection, I noticed it had a unique pattern with streaks of a blueish-silver metal woven into the blade.

“It’s Hadium that I scrounged up from the shrines, and then I folded it with Spinmetal.  The Spinmetal lets it conduct Arc and also acts as a soft spine to keep it from being too brittle.  The Hadium edge is notoriously strong; Lord Shaxx even uses it.”  She explained, much to my shock.  When had she learned how to forge blades, and why? “I used my own Radiance for the heat and Reggie hammered it out for me with his Hammer of Sol.  Maintaining a steady heat without oversaturating it was difficult, but I think we managed.”  It made sense that Reggie would know how to forge weapons; he knew everything else about them.  Especially how to use them.

However, it wasn’t just the blade that was special; the handle also caught my eye.  It was made of some clear material, maybe plastic or acrylic, but incased within it was some grub-looking thing.  My eyes lingered on the creature.

“It’s a worm I cut out of a wizard.  I figured if I was going to make you a knife, I should use a knife to scavenge the materials. You know, adhere to the spirit of the weapon.”  

She had done well, and as much as it kills me to say it, I respected her a lot more from that day on. It certainly helped that knife was awesome.  

I didn’t realize it at first, but I think she may have created something Exotic.  That knife was nothing like I had ever seen before, and certainly not like anything I had ever used.  Not once did I ever sharpen it, but it felt as if it was sharper after each time I used it.  I went out of my way in combat to test the limits of my blade, only I found none. It was if the blade wanted to kill my enemies as badly I wanted to sink my blade into them.  For a Hunter, it was the perfect blade.

Because of that, I began to rely on the blade.  No, it was more than that; I used the blade as my first option in a fight.  How could I not?  It felt so natural, so powerful, and it sunk deeper and deeper into enemies with each day.  As I became more proficient with my blade, it became more proficient as well.  

I once snuck up on three Knights, thinking them easy prey for my newly-christened knife, Wretched Renderer.  Knights were big and bulky, making them easily susceptible to a knife stabbed in their joints.  If a Knight wielded a sword, I would duck under it easily and slip Wretched into its gut. If a Knight fired a boomer, I would disappear in the blast and reappear behind the Knight for an easy kill.  These Knights I assumed would be no different, but as I ambushed them I learned that these were no ordinary Knights.  These Knights were Exalted, and their blades hissed as they sliced the air.  These Knights had armor like I had never seen before.  These Knights were masters of their blades.  These Knights fell to my knife just as easily as a thrall, and they left me bored with the exchange.  I needed more.  I needed to kill more, to feel my blade bite down into their flesh and rend away what was there.  I needed to feel the power of my knife surging through the metal, through the handle, and into my hand.  

And so I did.  I lost track of how many I slew.  I ignored panicked calls from my team on the radio as I killed anything I came across.  Thralls were more than willing to oblige my bloodlust, but I wanted bigger and better prey.  Knights, Wizards, even Ogres.  I killed them all and I felt myself surge.  

When I came across four Ogres, I knew that I was outmatched, but it didn’t matter.  I would sink my knife into their flesh, consequences be damned.  I was a Guardian, after all; death was no obstacle. The Traveler had brought us back to kill things for it, didn’t it?  That was what I was going to do.

It was with a limp that I finished off the last Ogre.  Despite having been impaled, nothing would stop me and my blade.  As it died, I laid down to wait for my own death.  Blood loss was always so slow, and I really couldn’t be bothered to wait to respawn and begin my killing again; I needed to get back out there.  I could almost feel my knife screaming with displeasure at taking even a short break like this, even to die.  I had to get back out there faster.  With Wretched Renderer in my hand, I made a simple choice, a practical one: stab myself, die sooner, and resume my conquest.

Once upon a time, it would have been hard to convince my hands to push my own knife into my heart, but so far into the life of a Guardian?  The pain barely registered as I finished what the Ogres started.

Then I entered that place, the one that those Thanatonauts crave to be in.  I had been here a thousand times before, and I hated it.  I never spoke of what I saw, because the Warlocks would pry and never let it go, and I always wanted so desperately to not think of it.  Visions and emotions flash across your vision and everything is so confusing.  I usually instruct my Ghost to resurrect me as soon as possible; it’s not a place I enjoy being in.  

But this time?  This time it was different.  There were no visions, no emotions, nothing.  I simply…existed in nothing.  It was dark, and nothing else.  And then it didn’t end.  With no way to track time, I couldn’t be sure, but I felt certain that I had never been dead for this long.  Panic set in.  Had something gone wrong?  Why are the visions gone?  Why am I still here?  If it is possible to hyperventilate without having a body or a presence, then I did; I metaphorically curled into a ball and buried my head in my lap as I tried to hide from the nothingness around me.

When I did come out of it, Ghost said I had only been dead for 20 minutes before my team found me and forced enough Light into my Ghost to revive me.  Ghost was deathly silent, even as Sara handed me my knife back; she must have retrieved it from my previous body, and had even cleaned it of my blood.  I expected her to be worried about me, because I was very worried, but she looked…intrigued, more than anything.  She wore a smirk that made me uncomfortable.  

I didn’t miss the wary stare that my Ghost tossed towards that knife.

Once we were alone, I cornered my Ghost over what happened.  We weren’t in a Darkness zone, so a revive should have been easy.  It should have been a routine op; something wasn’t right.  

“I couldn’t.  There was a dark presence overwhelming me.”

“What presence?”

“Your knife.  I can’t even go near it now; I can feel Darkness radiating off of it.”

Normally, I wouldn’t overreact like this, but after perfecting death, to learn that you might screw something up is terrifying, not to mention how horrifying the silence was. I reached to my side and drew my knife, before chunking it at the nearby rock face.  It sunk in easily.  For all I cared, it could have been a fluke, or even a prank from my Ghost.  I don’t care.  I would give anything to get the visions and emotions of death back. Anything but that…that dark Void.

I haven’t picked up a knife since that day.  I don’t know why they hate me, but I refuse to try it again.  I won’t go back in the dark.

And so, I punch like a Titan.  Because I’m scared of my knife.

Why do I dirty my hands to use a Hunter’s knife?  Why abandon my books for a blade?

It’s simple, really. My knife is evil.  

I was never really interested by the Hive.  In fact, I would say I was disinterested in it.  The Vex?  Fun to think about, and even better debate material for Warlocks, but in the end it always proven a mental exercise, nothing more.  The Fallen?  A magnificent case study in what would happen if the Traveler left Earth, or if we failed to protect it.  The Cabal? Military strategy may not be my thing, but I can certainly recognize the knowledge to be inferred from their tactics. The Taken?  Paracausal entities that had been abducted and brainwashed, certainly fascinating if not terrifying.  The Hive, though?  They just bred with and killed themselves over and over.  Inbreeding and slaughter just weren’t my thing.

However, the Speaker sure seemed to think there was something interesting about the Hive, though, since he put an embargo on Warlocks (and other classes also, technically, but who else would he worry about) practicing Hive tactics.  Everyone knew about Toland, but I didn’t think that there was any reason to fear that what happened to him would happen to more Warlocks; I figured Toland was the exception, not the rule.  However, the Speaker’s war on Hive magic knowledge made me think otherwise.  

It was my original disinterest in the Hive that led the Speaker, and the Vanguard, to believe that I could be trusted with a tour on the moon.  More than a quick mission, this was a months-long operation where our Fireteam would destroy any gathered Hive we could find.  With Hive-curious Warlocks, they feared that such prolonged, unfettered access to Hive shrines would prove too tempting.  With me, I supposed they thought my apathy was a perk.

It was the perfect opportunity to investigate the Hive.  After all, I was only selected because they trusted I would not look into the Hive, and they had already discouraged doing so; it was only natural that their own actions would lead to me investigating the Hive.

My findings were, well, okay.  It was interesting, sure, but nothing that would have drove me mad.  Sword Logic certainly piqued my interest, but it wasn’t something I believed I could harness as a Guardian; after all, Shaxx had popularized the sword as a Guardian weapon, and there weren’t any Guardians reporting that their influence on the Darkness magnified or they could will a Throne World into existence.  As cool as that would be, it certainly would not be a practical means of flaunting death, seeing as we Guardians already have that skill perfected.

An idea came to my mind. The Hive don’t command the Darkness by themselves; they are beholden to their worms.  I was never foolish enough to think a Guardian should introduce worm larvae into themselves; but could proximity to a worm trick the system? Could I introduce a worm into, say, a knife?  Could a knife serve as a vessel, feeding a worm and growing in power as it sliced through enemies?

My plan became a reality as I carved out the worm from a Hive wizard.  I needed to seal it in a handle, but I let the tang of the blade touch the worm as I encased it all.  I didn’t want the worm to be able to directly influence the wielder, but I did want it to interact with the blade itself.  With my work finished, I gave it to Sven Freisonn, our resident Hunter.  It really was a peace offering, as it was potentially the greatest knife of all time, but it was also an experiment—a chance to observe without risking side effects to myself.  

When Sven couldn’t be revived by his Ghost, I knew something must have worked.  Surely, the worm had activated and the blade was growing in its own, sinister, Dark power.  Sven had let it feed for weeks, and as he chunked it away in horror I saw my opportunity. I retrieved the blade and tucked it under my robes.  

Surely, Sven’s failure at reviving was his own fault; what sort of idiot kills himself with his own blade? Sure, he may not have realized that his blade was growing Dark the same way Crota and Oryx’s swords did, but it was still his own fault.  As long as I didn’t kill myself with it, I would be fine.  

Whenever my team isn’t looking, or whenever I’m off fighting alone, I’ll bring out the blade.  So aptly named, Wretched Renderer really does slice deep into its enemies; Sword Logic truly does sharpen as it kills. When I first created the blade, I tested it on a Hive Wizard’s shield, the metal biting into it and barely scratching it.  Now, with the charge of thousands of Hive souls as tithe to its worm?  I decapitated an Exalted Wizard like it was nothing the other day.  

Subtly, I discarded my Praxic Order bond, and let Reggie-12 have my books on the Traveler, and the Light. I didn’t need them right now.  I had something better to study.

And so, I wield the blade of a Hunter.  Because it’s too powerful not to.

Why do I study the Light like a Warlock?  Why concern myself with such details?

It’s simple, really. My Fireteam is insane.

They think I’m stupid, I’m certain.  They think their Fireteam Leader is some dumb oaf, spouting on and on about the practicality of walls in defense and how to best bash in the skull of a Knight.  They think that I don’t see what they hide from the group.  

I do.  I see Sven struggle for his life in fights, doing everything to avoid dying that he can.  He doesn’t even use a knife anymore, preferring to stay far out of knife range. I know he’s scared of that place. I know why.  I saw through Sara’s attempt to make Sven a blade out of kindness. I know what she put in its handle. I saw how that blade hungered to kill. I know how she hides it under her robes. I see her slit throats with it when she thinks no one is looking.  

My Fireteam needs serious help, and as the only sane member left, not to mention their leader, it falls to me to do it.

But I don’t know how. A Hunter scared to death of death and a Warlock obsessed with Darkness, with her own ritualistic Hive knife? Some nights I just want a stiff drink, but instead I get a book.  With Sara not needing them at the moment, I turned to them in desperation.  Perhaps I could enlighten myself—a challenge for a Titan never before attempted.  Maybe these texts could teach me to strengthen Sven’s Light, to teach him how to never worry about not reviving again.  If anything could restore his confidence, it would have to be the Traveler’s gift, so I studied Sara’s books on the Traveler.  

And maybe I’ll stumble across something magnificent.  Maybe I would solve some great mystery, or at the very least find one.  Something that would pique Sara’s interest again, and get her to focus back where it is safe for her to.  It’s not something I ever thought I would be doing, but something has to be done.  I can barely read, yet I’m pouring over books like Notes and Theses on the Alteration of Astrophysics Due to Post-Traveler Paracausal Manipulation and Theories on Seeding of Vex Minds In Traveler-Terraformed Planetoids.  And those are just the titles I can pronounce.  Whatever it takes, I’ll do it.

I can’t let Fireteam Green and Yellow destroy itself, or worse.

And so, I study like a Warlock.  Because the stakes are too high not to.

[shamelessly4shameless-blog]

The Sand In Your Shoe (5)

Fiona takes one look at her little brother’s face and her heart sinks.

“Ian.”

She says his name with so much tenderness it nearly sets him off again but he manages to bite the inside of his lip and shake his head slightly

“I got that cheap shit shampoo in my eyes!”

“That was unlucky.”

Fiona’s own eyes are large and round with concern but she lets him have his white lie and Ian feels a rush of affection for his sister that reminds him of how things used to be when they were both kids.

“Yeah, sucks. Thank you for my card.”

“You’re welcome, sorry there wasn’t a cheque in it. Still haven’t won the damn lottery!”

It is a weak joke but it breaks the miserably tension and Ian manages to smile and even laugh a little. Fiona pours the coffee and Ian cuts his cake. He took too long in the shower and Carl has wandered off on some errand promising to be back soon, Debbie has taken Frannie outside to play and Liam is back in front of his Play Station.

Ian delivers Liam some cake and then joins his big sister at the table. She looks tired but still so beautiful it makes his heart ache and Ian impulsively catches her hand in his and kisses it.

“What the fuck?”

Fiona laughs and ruffles his hair, shorter than he’s had it for a couple of years but still long enough that it needs smoothing back down when she’s done.

“You’re just so fucking gorgeous and I can’t believe I don’t tell you more often.”

“Wow. Thank you. You know it’s your birthday not mine ,right?”

Ian smiles and gives her hand a squeeze before reaching into his jeans pocket and producing a packet of cigarettes, slapping them on the table and winking at her

“That’s why I’m treating myself to a pre-lunch smoke.”

They sit quietly for a few minutes, both lost to their own thoughts and grateful for the temporary silence amidst the chaos. Ian drums his fingers anxiously against his leg and presses his feet into the floor to keep from tapping them.

“I saw Yevgeny Milkovich today.”

He tries to sound casual but overshoots and his voice wavers, hitting a high note that smacks of a panic attack in the making.

“Jesus. That must have been weird.”

“Yeah, he’s like seven or eight now.”

Ian knows exactly how old Yevgeny is but he’s trying to cover up his interest for fear of Fiona holding something back. He doesn’t know exactly what but maybe something she’s heard from Vee…

“Yeah. I’ve seen him around with Svetlana.”

Fiona is watching Ian for reaction and he deliberately keeps his face as neutral as possible.

“He looks like Mickey, doesn’t he?”

She offers finally, with an audible sigh that makes Ian wince. He knows he is being subtle as a brick but the expression on Fiona’s face suggests that this is something she has been waiting on for a while and it makes Ian feel predictable and a bit pathetic. For a moment Ian thinks about saying he didn’t notice and changing the subject to something lighter but he doesn’t really want to. Something has awoken in him, something that has lain dormant for so long that Ian had almost forgotten it was there at all and he means to follow it and see where the feeling takes him.

“Yeah he does. Svetlana said that Mickey still sends money, you know?”

“Good. It’s the least he can do!”

Fiona’s brows knit together and she shakes her head. She never had a very high opinion of Mickey to begin with and the fact that he sends money for a son he never sees fails to impress her all that much.

“I know it’s just … I hadn’t thought about him properly for a while and it’s good to know he’s still …”

“Alive?”

“… Free.”

Ian tapped the ash off his second cigarette and smiled weakly at her which only earned him another sigh.

“You know you gotta leave all that in the past, Ian.”

“I suppose … I mean … I just fucked it all up so badly, Fi. I had so much of my own shit going on and with the meds and the bipolar I wasn’t myself or like, the version of myself I wanted to be, and …”

“Stop. Jesus! You’ve got your life together! You’re doing great with your EMT job, you have your own apartment and your own friends. Your meds are stable, you’re healthy…”

“I know. I know all that and I’m happy…”

“Then why risk it for an old boyfriend you haven’t even heard from in years?”

“I’m not going to! I just … forget it.”

Ian shook his head again and closed his eyes. It was easy for him to get pissed with Fi, to resent her controlling ways and know-it-all attitude but the truth was that she had kept them going, sacrificing her own teens and twenties to ensure that all of them were seen right, or as right as possible. She had done so much for them, fought for every single one of them and if she was bossy then she had damn well earned that right.

“Ian, I know you loved Mickey but he is doing whatever the fuck he is doing and I don’t mean to be cruel, but he probably wouldn’t care about you at all now. Probably has a whole host of Mexican bang-buddies at his disposal.”

Ian’s head shoots up, green eyes wide and angry.

“Mickey never fucked around, Fiona. I was the one who did that. I did porno and I cheated on him. I was the one who acted like I didn’t care.”

 “Oh please! I know Mickey tried really hard when you first got sick, I never denied that and it was good of him but his way of showing ‘care’ was attempting to murder Sammi and busting your face when you pissed him off. You gotta leave this alone Ian!”

Ian wants to argue with her, tell her that he busted Mickey’s face too and that if he had the guts, he would definitely have killed Terry Milkovich but decides to leave it alone. Fiona is looking pretty upset with him and he can’t really blame her. Ian doesn’t even know why he is dragging all this up or what his end game is. He just knows he feels something in his gut and that isn’t much to go on and certainly not something to fight with his sister over.

“I’m sorry, Fi. I don’t mean to be a pain in the ass. I think just seeing Yevgeny … you know. I kidnapped that kid once!”

Ian grins and tries to make a joke of it all and after studying him a moment longer, Fiona gives in and laughs to.

“Fuckin’ Gallaghers.”

*

Ian leaves the Gallagher house towards dusk, he is feeling much better and his hands have stopped shaking. Mickey is still on his mind, as is Yevgeny, but it is a manageable level of background noise now. He can cross the road, notice his shoelace is undone and make greetings to people he recognises without having to bring himself back from his thoughts first and that is important.

Ian has learned to live a controlled life, monitoring himself carefully to ensure his moods are not swinging unduly one way or the other. If he wants to make an impulse purchase he tries to stop and think for at least five minutes, even if it is only a few bucks. He takes his meds as regularly as he can, he does mess up by an hour here or an hour there sometimes and often forgets to eat with them but he manages reasonably well and even Fiona has stopped asking him if he’s doing it right.

In a way, now that he has it under control this lifestyle suits him okay, he always liked neatness, order and rules. It’s kind of why he wanted to join the army so badly as a kid. He used to feel highs and lows that were not just part of his ‘disorder’ but part of his very soul. Now he tends to crush those feelings down when they arise and has become good at doing so. The only thing Ian truly misses is feeling a regular sense of curiosity. He used to be curious to the point of nosy and now he just doesn’t care enough about most things to wonder.

He realises that he is heading toward the Alibi and pauses mid-stride, his boots scuffing along the sidewalk. The Alibi used to be such a normal part of his routine, not that he was ever a big drinker but it wasn’t weird for him to drop in there to see Kev or find Frank or Lip. Ian thumbs his lip as he considers his options, a habit he doesn’t remember picking up but can’t shake somehow.

He wants to convince himself that it is nostalgia or the desire to see Kev that is sending him there but he knows it isn’t, he knows Kev hasn’t been there for quite some time. He is aiming to see Svetlana.

*

The alibi looks like shit but then it always did and Ian mostly ignores the old bar flies, lifting his hand in greeting to the ones who look up from their beer and briefly make eye contact with him.

“Is Svetlana here?”

The barmaid looks him up and down and Ian tolerates this with all the good grace he can muster. The blonde woman appears to make up her mind finally but doesn’t take her eyes off Ian as she yells

“LANA!”

Svetlana appears a few minutes later, her face sharp and watchful transforming into a small smirk when she sees Ian.

“He still says ‘Hello’. I have not told him Carrot Boy rejects him again yet.”

“Is he OK?”

“How in fuck should I know. I tell him of Yevgeny. He sends money for Yevgeny. Is all.”

Svetlana is eyeing Ian with something that could almost be amusement and Ian wonders if he is barking up completely the wrong tree. He weighs his options but the gut feeling which has been pushing him since looking up into Yevgeny’s eyes from the tarmac this morning won’t quit nagging at him and Ian decides to lay everything on the table. If Svetlana laughs at him, so be it.

“I haven’t thought about him in a while. Now I am. I just want to know he is alright.”

“You have not thought of him?”

Her voice is incredulous, almost angry and Ian feels a blush creep up his neck

“It was complicated.”

“You went crazy, he love you. You steal baby, he love you. You too weak to visit in prison without payment, he love you. Not complicated, just stupid.”

Svetlana has stepped behind the bar as she speaks and Ian watches her pull two shots of vodka, she pushes one across the bar towards him and slams the other down her throat before looking him dead in the eye.

“You are selfish little copper shit, no idea of love.”

“And you’re a fucking rapist. Don’t you dare lecture me on love”

The anger comes hot and fast and Ian slams his palm down on the bar hard enough to bruise the heel of his hand. Ian is almost as shocked as Svetlana at the outburst but it wipes the haughty look off her face and that gives him a small sense of satisfaction. She recovers quickly though and Ian crosses his arms over his chest protectively waiting her to strike back.  

“So we both screw him, just different ways, hmm?”

Svetlana pours another drink and shrugs cooly.

“He is OK. We spoke a little while. He is OK.”

“Will you tell him I say Hello back? You don’t have to but …”

“I will tell him. He may not care but I will tell him.”

“Thank you.”

Ian lets his breath out shakily and sips at the vodka she has given him. He doesn’t know if it is a gift or if he will be asked to pay for it. He doesn’t mind either way really. The feeling that brought him here is draining as well as encouraging and he feels ready to sleep.

“Give me your number.”

Svetlana says suddenly and takes her phone out of her bra, gesturing impatiently to Ian

“Why?”

“In case he cares.”

Those four words make Ian’s mouth instantly dry and his palms slick with sweat. His heart hammers in his chest and he feels a wonderful mixture of fear and hope rise up from the kernel of feeling in his gut, unfurling like a flower stretching out to reach the dawn light. He hasn’t felt anything like this in so long and it is almost painful in its intensity. A distant part of him knows this feeling, it is like returning to a childhood home after living away for fifty years and Ian taps his number into Svetlana’s phone before he can lose his nerve.

“Why would you do this for me?”

“Not for you. What I did … it got me my Yevgeny so I cannot regret it. But perhaps a small debt is owed to his father. A very small one.”

Svetlana smiles slightly at that and Ian feels like his feet have been lifted from the ground and he is floating above himself slightly. The vodka is working far too quickly, he shouldn’t have had it. He needs to leave.

“Thank you anyway.”

He mumbles and staggers out of the bar before Svetlana can say anything further. Ian runs until his breath is like fire in his throat and his legs tremble uncontrollably as he sinks to the ground, sitting on the curb with the sort of oddly graceful clumsiness that only big men have.

*In case he cares*

Fuck. Birthdays make him crazier than normal!

Ian grins up at the darkening sky and wonders when he’ll find out if Mickey Milkovich still cares or not.

[tsw-story]

Chapter 76 - Attack of Titans

Before them was an elderly woman surrounded by a cute wood workshop of machines and tools and layers of fabrics. Her skin was tinted a sickly green beneath blond locks of hair, and where her eyes should have been, were a pink and blue button sewed to flesh. They somehow were still able to see, however, as she did her job as any craftsman would. Said job, being a seamstress, was easier for her, as hanging from her body were many loose strings that she controlled as any would do so with arms.

Kevin watched as she completed the last strand of her project. This time, his skin was only as white as his ginger nature allowed. It surprised himself that he wasn't terrified.

“So you were able to find what I asked about?” Eldrian had waited patiently for her to be finished. “I know it was an odd, tricky request.”

Marionette nodded. Her button eyes turned up to him as a smile grew slowly along the wrinkles around her lips. “Yes. We were lucky enough.”

Eldrian let out a breath of relief. “Thank goodness. I really owe you one this time. Really. After we deal with this, I'll come back and make it up to you somehow.”

The demon's workshop was holding four others at the time—Renatta, Daveon, Arlandria, and Deena. They waited patiently as well, having found seats in the corner, and Deena was nose-deep in a book that was resting on the end table. Something about demonic designer mugs.

“So what do you guys think?” Eldrian asked.

Renatta was gleeful. “This sounds fun!”

While Daveon shrugged with a slight smile, Deena spoke up as she lowered the book from her gaze. “I'll feel silly, but it's the best way. Let's just get things over with.”

What they spoke of would soon be revealed to perhaps more than it should, but they had made up their minds. There were some things any good-natured person had to do. There was something inside of them that had awoken, some later than others, that called to them. Somebody had to make a difference. And so, they departed shortly after.

Lucy, being the eldest daughter of the Demon World's ruler, had access to a number of perks, one of which being a portal room the team had used once before. She has the power to open a gateway to any place on Earth, for herself or others. The coordinates become set, and then a fissure of hellfire tears open along the surface. It always left with no evidence of ever being there.

That's exactly what happened. Nobody would know there ever was a fissure in Spokane, but there was, and what it brought was much more important.

***

The tree-covered woods outside the city was void of noise one minute, and but chattering the next. Aegis Arcanum had arrived. In front of them spanned the city with a chill in the air, though the chirping of birds reminded them spring was gradually approaching. That is, if they lived long enough to see it.

Eldrian gripped a slip of paper that flapped around in the breeze. It read the time and place, courtesy of Zayna. He placed it back into his pocket.

He was the first to act. Standing still, ethereal rings formed around his midsection, and they slid up and down his form to his head and toes, but as they went, the outfit he wore before was something else. They revealed his Dark Mage blue robes—face magically showed to show only a pair of glowing yellow eyes. It caused his voice to be distorted, and it reverberated.

One hand outwards brought his Staff of Lightning out of a ring in the air, from seemingly nowhere, to retrieve it from magic storage.

“My turn!” Renatta exclaimed, perhaps too excited by the concept.

As with Eldrian, rings moved out from her body as she changed wardrobe. A form-fit dark red outfit, like a ninja may wear, appeared around her, covering all but her eyes. Though it hide her hair, the back of the hood was tied by a black ribbon, causing her silhouette to have a ponytail regardless. Her voice was masked in a similar way.

Though she asked for something more akin to a belly dancer, but in her words, more deadly, the crew convinced her to be more subtle. She eventually conceded.

Deena did the same. Her legs were covered by stockings striped with black and red, which was beneath a frilly black skirt. Black boots comfortably covered her feet, and a coat of similar covers kept around her torso. Her hair was done up, so it appeared shot once her pointed black cap appeared. Then, her face shrouded in darkness, with only a pair of red eyes to be recognized.

Daveon's transformation was less decorative than the rest. It was a loose-fitting robe of green shades with a hood over his head, though unlike Eldrian's, a small pair of decorate antlers sprouted out from the sides. Brown boots and gloves rested around his extremities, and instead of his face being magically darkened, it was similar to Renatta, in that fabric covered most of it.

Arlandria touched her pendant, which temporarily caused her elven ears to shrink to resemble those of a human's. Then, her disguise came next. It was a white robe, like a priestess, trimmed with pale greens. It didn't cover her head. Instead, she wore a feminine mask with paintings of green leaves and branches—lips to match. As part, her hair turned completely white, like Deena's.

Kevin was last. Sadly, he was no wizard, and couldn't cast a spell to easily swap clothes back and forth. Instead was the item they sought from Marionette upon their visit. Eldrian had taken care of the meeting, and had thought of Kevin's problem. He wore a thick silver chain around his neck that ended with a pendant emblazoned with the helmet of a medieval knight. His hand gripped it, squeezed it, and then it happened.

Metal materialized around his body, including a helmet that covered much of his face. However, it was unlike the others. It was completely illusory, and therefore, a touch would pass straight thought it. The armour was simply there to act as a disguise, and just like all of the rest, it altered his voice slightly as well.

The spellbreaker was prepared in other ways as well. After a, “Summon Sword, Drodias!” and a, “Summon Shield, Hottah!” he was armed with a magic blade and heater shield. Tucked into his pocket was a pair of anti-magic cuffs they had recovered as well. This time, they were prepared for everything they could prepare for.

“This is it.” Eldrian stared off the hill over the city's skyline. He knew that somewhere, this new enemy was lurking, waiting to boldly strike in a way that was uncommon for demons, from what he knew.

“Do you trust Zayna this much?” Deena asked.

“I do. She put her life on the line telling us this information. I don't see why else she'd even seek us out if this wasn't true.”

“Could be a trap.”

“Well, then we'll damn ready to spring it. I'm finished with messing around. If demons want to attack a city, and hurt innocent people, then this is exactly what all of our magic practice has been leading up to.” He shot a glance to the druid. “Daveon. I'd like you to be our eyes in the sky. Let us know if you see anything, and act on your own wisdom. Whatever you think needs to be done.”

He nodded. With a hop in the air, Daveon shifted into a crow, and flew off into the sky in a heartbeat.

“I'll handle any wizards, so just let me know if any are involved. Could be warlocks helping,” Kevin stated. “But I'm about ready to cut down a demon too.”

“Anything you need from me?” asked Renatta.

Before he could answer, the sound of concrete being shattered reverberated up the hillside, as if a stick of dynamite had gone off now far from them. Ahead, a cloud of dust lifted from a tall building. It was difficult to tell, but a giant figure appeared to be stomping past as well.

“Move between the rooftops, Ren. Keep watch, let us know, and strike out at foes. Do what you do best, like when you tried to kill me, but less of that part.” Eldrian nodded.

She brought up a hand to salute. “Roger!” And off she went, leaping down through the city of an unnatural agility.

“Arly. Watch as, but especially Kev. He has fewer means to defend himself, besides his fancy equipment, and you're a master of warding. Just say safe, and not just because you're the only one that could aid is if we're injured. All of you follow me. Even if we're seen, we can't stand around and watch. Let's go!”

Eldrian, Deena, Kevin, and Arlandria found the source of the detonation. It was no bomb, but a giant creature that looked as if it was made of solid marble and nearly ten feet tall, and incredibly wide. One swing of its fist shattered a large chunk off the nearby structure, which was now blocking the street ahead.

“There!” came Renatta's voice from above. She was gesturing towards a second beast of stone just a couple blocks down. “Daveon said there is at least one more farther on!”

“Kev and I have this one.” Eldrian brought up his staff. It sparked. “Deena. Arly. Go help Ren with the one behind us. Quick! If I know Dav, he's saving people caught in the crossfire, and he might need our help.”

The noise of stones grinding together echoes out as the creature moved, though with a fluidity impossibly by a creature that was merely an animated statue. Demons could be anything, but this was something completely bizarre to Eldrian.

He brought two fingers out, as well as his staff, and both lit up with crackling electricity.

“I don't know how much my sword will help you, buddy,” shouted Kevin as he formed a wall between his friend and the demon. “But I'll be your shield!”

It thrust its massive fist towards them. Kevin choked the air from his lungs as he brought his shield to absorb the blow—both hands pushed against it. Pain shook up his body. But behind him came his friend lifting up into the sky in a pose that reminded him of the day he first learned about his friend's wizardry.

Eldrian thrust the staff forwards, and an explosive beam of electricity fired out from the tip and towards the upper chest of the beast. White currents coiled down its form and the stone cracked and burst under the shock of the spell. Lighting Lance!

However, it was quickly learned that this beast contained no innards. It had no blood, or anything that could be damaged through electrocution—only rock.

“Got anything bigger than that, buddy?” Kevin called out.

A cackle came from the Dark Mage's hood. “You know I do. Get back! I'm willing to bet this fellow will take awhile to reach me with something up here.”

Meanwhile, Deena turned the corner to another beast that looked exactly the same as the first, minus the chunk broken from its torso. It swung down the moment they saw it, but Arlandria rose up both hands to project a barrier that absorbed the blow, with some resistance.

A flaming chakram spun down from a rooftop to stick into its head. By itself, it yanked free, and flew back into Renatta's hand. Though it had no visible emotion, it turned annoyed the face her above it.

“What the hell are these things?” Deena muttered.

Arlandria stared up through the eyes of her mask. “Demons, but more than one exactly alike I thought was impossible amongst the chaos of the Demon World.”

“Something is up here. We need to figure out what before it's too late.”