#fight choreography i've ever seen

[illiana-mystery]

He's gone feral...

[starscreamingg]

When the Shrek spinoff about the silly little cats gives you fully body chills and also makes you cry

[dilf-docs]

All Roads Lead To Rome

pedro pascal x younger!reader

summary: your boyfriend swears he isn't annoyed at your little surprise visit on the set of gladiator II; you might have to help him release his anger, one way... or another.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (BARK BARK BARK), smut, p. in v., bit of exhibition kink cause they fuck on his trailer, he swears he's mad but he just wants head, oral (m. receiving), he also uses his armor and skirt while at it bc its hot and not bc i totally want that to happen to me or smth!!!, brat taming, orgasm denial, breeding and daddy kink lowkey, i'm so down bad for him so there's fluff!!! + pedro being whipped cause that's exactly what i want in my men, the cast makes cameos bc i love them!!! use of spanish (i'm latina so don't even try me), pedro wearing a skirt tehee

word count: 3,519 words

side note: i'm about as FERAL and horny as much as one could be!!! damn u pedro, making me walk out in the middle of class and walk on foot to the nearest theather for an early gladiator II screening (bc they're cheaper and i'm a jobless broke student lmao) that mind u it's my first solo trip to the movies but it's okay!!!! nobody interrupt me on my horny dilf hours amirite I TELL U that cinema was almost empty: just me, pedro and hey there's a spot if u wanna join mescal (look at my blog banner IYKYK) so yeah!!!! enjoy this porn lovechild that steemed from it; my pedro renaissance that'd been asleep since tlou dropped AWAKES (u don't get it, i literally watched narcos just for him) i'm so fr i need this man BIBLICALLY!!

"Lemme guess, that's her, right?"

Pedro looks up from his phone, slightly red and embarrassed. He would blame the color on the sun, and as an actor, fake his way out.

"No idea what you're talking about, Paul"

The young man chuckles.

"I mean, every break we get, you take your chair, sit the farthest and pull your phone with the most ridiculous grin I've ever seen. I'm afraid to tell you, friend, you aren't as slick as you think"

He leans back against the chair, covering his face with his large palm.

"At least I tried" he finds no point in lying anymore, "seems like I'm addicted, but if it wasn't for y/n, I wouldn't touch it"

"I'm curious, though" Paul scoots his chair closer, "who texts who? You or her?"

"Me" he answers, but then corrects himself quickly, a bit ashamed of how that makes him sound, "but it's mostly her first".

"Right" he doesn't sound convinced, rather curious and annoyed, something he's too old and tired for, "I don't believe you"

He's about to lock his phone, but the wallpaper (a selfie with you) would probably earn him another mock from Mescal.

"Too bad I don't need you to"

Before he can do so, the irish man yanks his phone away.

"Give it back!" he shouts, earning a few glances from the crew around them, "what are you, ten?"

"No, twenty-eight" they look like kids bickering. "No need to fight me, Mr. Pascal, they haven't taught us the new fighting choreography yet" he mocks, before the phone chimes; they both stop at the sound.

"What does this mean?" Paul asks. "Malta's nice" he reads out loud, "were you talking about possible future vacations? I might have to tag along"

He doesn't follow the man's joke, instead, looking at the message on your chat. Malta's nice, says the little cryptic message, and yes―it is cryptic, because you were just talking about missing each other and some other corny stuff he'd take to his grave. Not vacations, and certainly, not about the european island, which happens to also be the place were he's filming his latest movie.

"No, we weren't" he replies confused, "what do you think it means?"

"Well, obviously, you boys don't know anything" May pops up from behind, laughing.

"Were you eavesdropping?" he asks playfully, albeit, a little offended.

"No, you guys are just too loud" she replies nonchalant. "Besides, you aren't very good at hiding it, either"

"That's what I said!" Paul backs, laughing on his face.

"Stop being misterious and just drop it"

"It means" she pauses―laughing at her own little dramatic effect, "that you're getting a visit soon"

When you met Pedro, you were working in The Last Of Us. Nothing fancy, just part of the technical cast of the show: helping with the filming and stuff.

During those months, it was easy to find yourself falling for the main star (alongside Bella Ramsey), especially when you spent months behind a camera, capturing all of his perfect features; learning them by memory until you could draw them without seeing his face.

Yes, you had fallen for the older man, because it was as natural as breathing; easy as being alive―the fall so gentle and so easy, it was hard to know when the feelings started. You just woke up one day, feeling different.

You liked to act up―always had what you wanted, and times had changed (so it's not like he had to ask first): why not? Which is why during your last day of shooting you took some liquid courage on your veins and went up his way. It was at a little gathering the crew you've grown to call family organized, while wearing your favorite and tightest dress, that you approached him.

It surprised you that he even recognized you, but that's who he was: warm, welcoming and caring.

To augment the surprise, turns out he had eyed you already, but was too shy to do anything. Yes, the worlds most famous Chilean man. It did stroke your ego, and maybe that's why you feel like most of the time, you've got the upper hand on your relationship, despite the years in between.

Still, you feel like the last message you just sent was a bit too blunt. Now you sit at the tiny airport, pondering your next move.

You know your boyfriend isn't exactly the type to scold or get mad―despite his strong figure, but going against the only thing he asked you might test him. Which is why you feel nervous, despite the happiness around you, everyone in the airport looking straight out of a picture perfect summer edition magazine.

And your theory is proven exactly right when you arrive impromptu at the Gladiator II set: making heads turn and guards almost kick you out, thinking you're a fan.

"You don't get it!" you protest, "he's my boyfriend".

"Sure", they laugh on your face. "you're not the first to say that".

"She's not lying" oh, how you love that gravely voice. But not today: not when he sounds like a parent scolding a naive child. Not when his eyes bore into you, slightly irritated.

So now he's dragging you among the set, right to were his trailer is.

"Aren't you going to introduce me?" you ask, puffing your cheeks out in annoyance. He keeps dragging you by the arm, without sparing a glance in your way. Who does he think he is? "I wanted to tell Paul he made me cry―twice. You know I don't play about Normal People and Aftersun"

"But you do seem to play about my orders" he grunts out, opening the door to his trailer. The sunlight reflects against the white, slightly bothering your eyes with its shine, contrary to your boyfriend's gloomy behaviour.

"Are you being serious right now? You're not my dad to scold me. I just wanted to surprise you" you stand still, refusing to get inside. Pedro knows your character tends to be stubborn, and thought he finds it hot to reel you up sometimes, there are other times where he can't just stand that juvenile spirit of rage you tend to have when things don't go the way you want them to. "What's gotten into you?"

"I could ask you the same" he mocks. "Get inside. Now"

"Rude" you scoff, but obey regardless, and he breathes out relieved you didn't do a scene like last time; he still can't show his face on that restaurant to this day.

"I thought you'd be happy to see me" you say a tad bit dissapointed, and Pascal feels the pissed off feelings clouding his brain start to dissipate.

"I do, amor" he sighs, "just hate to see you do things I tell you not to; waltzing in here like you own the place".

You don't see the mistake, though. What's wrong with wanting to do a little surprise? It's not like you were a stalker or something; just a very clingy girlfriend who happens to miss her boyfriend.

"So, you're not mad?" you venture, "tell me you're not embarrassed"

He looks at you, the fondness of his gaze betraying him.

"I'm not the one wearing a skirt while trying to sound intimidating" you joke while caressing the crook of his nose, knowing you always get on his good side. Being mad isn't something that lasts, "if anyone should be embarrassed, that's you"

"Are you saying I shouldn't wear one because I'm a man?" your boyfriend looks offended, "Have you forgotten the movie I'm starring in? People feared the skirt-wearing Roman army"

"Well, I'm not intimidated" you stand defiant, and something dark tints his brown eyes. You can feel the excitement begin pooling in your stomach.

"You're not?" he grips your wrists and yanks you to him, then holds your chin, tilting your head between his calloused fingers. "Well, cariño, you should be"

Your body slams against one of the trailers walls, and you have to suppress a whine.

"You must be punished for what you did today"

You give him a doe-eye look, pretending to be all innocent, as if you weren't enjoying the punishment.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I've been a good girl"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about" he clicks his tongue, "don't play dumb with me"

"I just came to visit you" you murmur, voice husky against his ear. He grunts, and with the proximity, his hard-on rasps against your bare legs, only partly covered by the flowy summer dress you're wearing, "is that so bad?"

"It is. Has sido mala, cariño" his hand travels down under your dress, carresing with his large palm the silhoutte of your ass. The rings on his fingers create a shock, cold metal against your warm sun-bathed skin. "Naughty girl"

"I promise I'll be good, papi" you purr, using that honeyed voice of yours that makes it hard: hard to say no and hard between his pants.

Pedro sits on a small couch he has inside the trailer, guiding you with his hand enveloped around yours, motioning you to follow with a care so soft, you'd doubt he's about to do to you what he is about to do to you. He pulls you across his lap, smiling (God, you love his smile) as your stomach presses against his tights.

"Don't worry" he breathes low, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'll make you a good girl. Tell me, aren't you?"

You swallow, "I am"

He moves the panties easily to the side, rubbing your pussy a little. He then spanks it softly, making you mewl at the sting.

Pedro continues to trace over it, "Are you sure about that?"

"N-no" you shiver in delight, resolve dissolving as quick as it came. "I'm naughty"

"It's good to be aware" he murmurs, "Dilo otra vez"

"I'm a naughty girl"

He lifts your head by your hair. "Tell me what you did"

"Disobeyed your orders, coming to the set" you whisper. He lets go of your hair, his hands traveling down again, slowly teasingly rubbing your pussy while he humms.

"You were a little brat, amor"

You whimpered and mewled in delight. "I was a very naughty brat"

He pushed his fingers inside you, plunging his fingers into your pussy.

"Look at you. You're soaking wet" he pumped his fingers in you, making you moan, "Is that why you came to see me? Couldn't wait any longer for daddy to be inside of you?"

You bucked a little, making him stop. He drags his fingers out, causing you to beg for him to go back.

"Answer my question you greedy thing" He leaned closer to your ear. "Did you need my cock this much?"

You whimper, "I do! Missed you so much"

He pushed his fingers back into you, provoking a moan out of you.

"You're always so needy for me" your core tenses, making you shiver. "How badly do you want me? Tell me"

You whimpered "Badly, papi"

"Say it" his face contorts in satisfaction at your pathethic display; crying little mess, "Who's cock, fingers and mouth make you feel good?"

You can't think at this point, your brain fuzzy and pussy hot, leaking. You kiss his lips, moaning against them, "you!"

"Just me, yes? Nobody else can make you feel this good?"

"No one!"

You involuntarily roll your hips to aid you in pleasure, yet Pedro stops you just before you can reach your orgasm.

"Little brat." he tuts, making you groan. "Did you think I'd let you? You were naughty today, baby"

You huff in annoyance, used to having your way.

"That's your punishment"

"But I'll behave" you mewl against his ear, "I promise"

“Good, because I'm planning on fucking your brains out” his hot breathe whispers in your ear seductively, trying his best not to slur the words at the drunken haze that your arousal provokes in him, "but you have to help me first"

You get on your knees, looking at the garment he's wearing. The skirt and general costume makes this all the more hot, mouth watering at the sight. You raise the skirt, glancing at the briefs; just seeing his dick strained against the fabric makes you wet in anticipation.

He sees the pleasure bore into your orbs, and before you do any dirty idea of yours, he's already warning:

"You have to take this off, what if we-"

"Alright" you cut him off, "but the skirt stays"

"Sigue, pues" he growls, voice low yet demanding, following you in your little game.

As you pull the briefs down, his erection springs out enthusiastically, slapping up against his lower abdomen. You shifted your gaze up to meet his, his eyelids heavy and his proud smirk driving you absolutely wild.

"That's right" he chokes out, "show me how much you missed it"

You give him a proud lick, and Pedro hisses at the moment his preseminal fluid goes in between your hungry lips.

Your tongue darts to the head of his cock, running over it several times before bobbing your head down, taking most of him in your mouth. He keeps praising as you pump the base of his cock with your hand. Your head bobs, yet you peek up to hear Pascal's little sounds and facial expression, a motivation so intimate in the way his brows furrow and eyes roll, mouth agape at your movements while his lip suck on those pretty lips of his. It makes you keep going. With every bob you take as much of him in your mouth as you can, before slowly moving your way back up to the tip, increasing your suction the closer to his head you got. A throaty moan escapes the man above you when you now focus on the final lick, making him closer to coming, all while maintaining eye contact the entire way through.

"Don't do that" he rasps, yanking you by the hair again, as of punishment, but he knows you enjoy it, "you promised you'd be good"

You can't answer, so instead, you reach the head of his cock again, and now his eyes roll back, mumbling profanities that sound like heaven.

"Do you want them to hear us, brat? Qué necia eres" he manages to chastise while moaning.

You feel his dick stuck in your throat, and the way he's about to come; you think that after some time dating, you know him well enough.

You're about to leave with your mouth when he stops you.

"No" your eyes open in shock, "what? Did you think your punishment is over?" Pedro laughs, "don't look at me like that. Like you have never done it before"

He keeps you in place by the hair, the rings prickling against your scalp. You feel his muscles tense up, and before you can think anything else thick and hot shots of cum invade your mouth, making it sticky and warm.

"Don't pretend you don't like it" his voice goes dark, husky. "Swallow it all. Te han enseñado a no desperdiciar nada, ¿verdad? Show me your good manners, then"

When you pull out, your throat feels raspy.

"You gotta reward me" you cough out.

"I promised, didn't I?" his fingers trace your face delicately, with adoration.

"It's all about duty, General Acacius" you purr, and the dick springs out again. Hard.

"Princess..." he warns.

"For the glory of Rome" you joke and laugh, then cough, as your throat is still sore.

"Have you been reading my script?" as you avoid to answer, he just chuckles, "ay, nena"

"C'mere" he motions, and you sit on his lap again. Pedro lifts your dress, exploring the curve of your ass. There's anticipation as he hooks his finger around the waistband of your panties, pulling them down to access your core.

"Fuck" you squirm at his touch, grinding your freed cunt against his hard cock. He grabs you by the hip, adjusting you right on his lap.

"You taste so good" he kisses down your throat, ending at the chest were your tits peak.

"Want them?" you offer, pulling your dress down. He kisses them, gently nipping at your perked up nipples.

A wave of pleasure courses through you, and with whines and moans, you show how desperate you are, the hunger making the meal taste better. After all those weeks missing him, you just want him to fuck you senseless.

His lips are rosy and swollen against yours, mouths clashing; starved of the yearned contact. Truth is, no matter how much you know how to touch yourself, it'll never be the same as having his hard cock tear through your tight folds.

Pedro easily aligns his leaking cock with your uncovered pussy, all while mantaining the kiss. He pushes down on you, your dripping cunt taking all of his rock-hard cock, fingers holding onto the soft brown grey sprinkled locs.

"Pedro" you cry out his name, full of ecstasy as the stretch burns so sweetly. His low grunts only fuel your desire.

You trace with your eyes his body, now bare without the upper part of the costume: his pecs and abs, flexing with every pump. With now free hands, your fingers travel to softly caress his stomach, even if your tits are jiggling and the pace is rather frenetic.

"I missed you so much" you pout.

"Missed how you look" you clash your lips onto his, the adoration translating through the smile you press against, a trail of saliva that symbolizes how interwined you are, "you always look so fucking good"

"I missed you too" he whispers out, getting tired.

He's reminded of his old age, forgetting about it as soon as you two kiss, because you bring out a stamina he thinks he doesn't have anymore; almost animalistic. His bones creak and adding the tiring filming day under the hot sun, he feels his body start to give up, the orgams closer and closer.

He blushes, feeling like a stupid school boy with a crush. What did he even do to deserve you? Never thought a pretty young wild thing like you would even spare a glance on his way, but now you're taking all of his cock inside with such greed yet loom into his eyes with a love he's only dreamed of.

You're real, and his.

As soon as those words leave your mouth your orgasm spills over him, some of it dripping onto the skirt, making him curse. You can't stop, still meeting his thrusts halfway, despite your trembling body after reaching your high.

"Mierda" he groans against your mouth,

You feel yourself collapsing on top of him, the weight of the jet lag catching up.

"Getting tired, baby?" he coos. "Shit, and I thought I was old"

"You are" you reply back; you can never not have the last word. And he lets you, because, God, doesn't he love you? He pretends to look offended by it, but the way your eyes shine tell him you didn't mean it that way. "You and your white hairs" tracing over his moustache, a soft hand combing through his locks, "These wrinkles... don't you know how much I love them? how much I love you?"

"And you have no idea how much I love you" he squeezes his eyes shut, feeling it coming through. "God, wanna make you mine. Sólo mía" his pace slows. It's coming, and yes, you will take it all. "Wanna make you a baby, mami. Want you to take it all like the good girl you are"

When he comes, filling you with burning hot cum until you feel like you might burst, you're numb. But there's a feeling so content that pools warmth in your chest, that you can't say anything else, resting your head against his bare chest, both covered in sticky sweat.

"No sé cómo voy a explicar esto" he speaks through ragged breathes, and you can only smirk, "a squirted and cummed roman skirt".

"That isn't my problem" he scoffs, and you feel your head rise against the movement, earning a laugh out of you, "I'm not part of the movie"

"You'd sure think so, with the way you walked in here"

You roll your eyes, face hidden against his chest, "can you let that go?"

"You're right" he pulls you closer to him, hand enveloping you behind your bare back. The quiet doesn't bother you as you lie closer to his chest, his heartbeat the only thing you need to be at peace, "I think punishment time is over. Think you've learned your lesson"

"Then, how about we go out? I've heard Malta's beaches are pretty"

"Relájate, cariño. Seems you've gotten your energy back" he quips, then kisses your forehead. "We need to wait for everyone to get out"

"That embarrased you are of me?" you joke.

"No" he can already imagine his fellow cast members making fun of him, starting with Paul and Joseph when they see you and Connie who will totally notice the fun sticky stains on the costume, "but embarrased of the explanation I'll have to give"

[lo1k-diamonds]

Down Bad 💜 PJM (Part 2)

Kissing you was not on the agenda, and it threw him off. How the fuck was he supposed to let go of you now?

PAIRING: Vampire!Jimin x human(f)reader

SUMMARY: You find the cure to your clumsiness in becoming Jimin’s dance partner. But twirling in his arms risks more than just your heart, especially after he bites you.

WORD COUNT: 12.8 k (Total: 31.5 k)

GENRE:  Soulmates AU, angst, smut

RATING: R (explicit)

WARNINGS: typical vampire-related warnings (blood, biting, scents, feral moments), arguing, fighting, graphic depictions of cuts, bites, and wounds (including blood), angst, multiple smut scenes (unprotected sex), including praise kink, oral (f rec), penetrative sex, pleading, bit of a dom!Jimin, handjob, fingering, multiple orgasms

A.N. Here we have it, my Christmas gift this year. For some reason, I've been... unexpectedly insecure about my writing, so this story was somewhat... more difficult to perfect than usual. I'd like to thank @downbad4yoongi, @pars-ley, @colormepurplex2 and @hisunshiine for working through it with me and helping me reach this final version - by far the most fleshed-out and intriguing, even if it became huge. Also thank you to @itaeewon for the beautiful banner! This is my entry in the upcoming @bangtanwritershq 4th Quarter Writing Event: Monster Mash!

Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad | Scroll my stories on Tumblr | Schedule and WIPs

>Click here for Part 1<

You faced yourself in the mirror, smoothing the dress you had just put on down your stomach. The black fabric was silky, shining with your every move, and you really liked it. You had picked it for that very motive, wanting to look your best when you trained the choreography with Jimin. And it had worked; you still remembered the way he twirled you and then pulled you close to whisper into your ear how beautiful you looked.

You blinked your tears away with a deep breath and clenched your teeth. At the time, you believed he loved you in his way. He didn't have to say it; you thought those moments showed it, and it was enough.

Perhaps you were wrong. Two days later, he had yet to pick up your calls, and he had not shown up for your movie night the night before. You hadn’t heard from him since that night, and while it hurt, you could admit you also needed to think about things.

You wondered how you never noticed something could be different about him, but you still held that you couldn’t have guessed it. Vampires were things of fantasy literature. Even if you had never seen him under direct sunlight, even if he had never gone out with you during the day, or eaten any meals with you… You just weren’t counting or paying attention. It didn’t really matter. You assumed he had his normal life and ate when he wasn’t with you.

You also never felt in danger. In fact, you felt safe with him, and thinking how many times you had all but begged him to bite you and nip your skin, you wondered if it was related to his nature. Could it be that his nature made you want those things? You couldn’t remember ever being so keen on wanting those things with previous partners, but that should be normal — you weren’t the same person, and the relationships were different. Still, while a part of you thought that those desires were natural for you and for people in general, another part couldn’t help wondering if anything you felt was because of what he was.

In movies, vampires could glamour people or manipulate them. What if that had been the case?

You chuckled while you put on your high heels — as if you were worth charming. And you supposed that was one of the biggest issues you couldn’t wrap your head around: just why exactly had Jimin looked at you?

You had naturally fallen in love with him over the months: he was handsome and sexy, and a bit of a tease, not to mention a wonderful dancer that made you believe in yourself. He took you out stargazing and watched old black-and-white movies in shady theaters with you, and you felt privy to aspects of him that no one else knew. But you? Besides keeping him on his toes with your clumsiness, what did you give him? He could have anyone, and if he was immortal or something like that, then you couldn’t think of a reason he’d waste his breath on you.

Hence, why you didn’t understand him at all; he said you were special and that you weren’t just anyone he wanted to mess around with, but he had gotten involved with you. He’d come every night through that same door you were now stepping out of to come to you. He walked that same path back and forth from the gym, and nothing forced him to do that. He never even fed on you before and was clear that he didn’t want your blood, so what was it?

A part of you screamed that he loved you in his own way, and that it was why, but you didn’t want to believe it. How could he love you if he had lied to you for so long? If he didn’t trust you? If he ran away as soon as his secret was out instead of explaining things to you and staying by your side? If his problem was your safety, why not tell you how to protect yourself? You didn’t even know vampires existed, same as anyone else. Why did he want to protect you from everyone and everything? As far as you were concerned, you would have lived in blissful ignorance your whole life if he never bit you.

He likely planned on using you for whatever reason and then leaving you behind. Thinking about that made you angry because while you were stuck doing the quick walk in the snow to the gym to attend the dance class, wondering about his reasoning, the only conclusion you knew for certain was that you loved him.

Stupidly, unwisely, and angrily, you loved a man— a vampire who had lied to you and showed you so very little of himself that you could logically tell you were damn stupid to be so head over heels about him.

You tapped your shoes on the gym’s welcome mat with a deep breath, letting the warmth inside the place reach you a little bit. You were not at fault for your feelings, and being naive could be a fault, but you didn’t hurt anybody. He did you dirty; it was unfair to be angry at yourself for it.

Hoseok wasn’t at the desk, but you didn’t wait; you knew where your class was. As you made your way calmly, you decided you’d put yourself first. You started your journey in dancing not for Jimin, but for yourself. You were proud of how far you had come, and that was enough. You were there more for the opportunity to speak with him rather than dancing, and you knew you couldn’t pretend everything was alright. Your eyes fell on the door with your heart racing in your chest, and you made a decision as you drew nearer and nearer — you could walk away. If that was the best option, you would do it for you.

When you pushed the door open, you hesitated. There was a tall man you didn’t know near the sound system, and beside him was Jimin. They were talking quietly, and when Jimin’s eyes landed on you, you jolted to a walk again. You closed the door behind you with your stomach twisting so hard that with every step you measured if you’d have to abort and run away to puke. At least until suddenly you were right before the two men with an agonizing heart behind your ribs.

“Here she is, right on time,” Jimin started casually, and you just looked at him blankly. His lips were moving, but you couldn’t hear a thing because he was addressing the guy as though everything was… fine. You blinked with the tears pricking your eyes; everything was not fine. “This is Taehyung. He’s an incredible dancer and he wanted to enter the competition, but he didn’t have a partner. Seeing as I’ve been to many, I thought it would be good for you to go together. I’ve already instructed him on all our choreographies, but like I was telling him, you can change anything as you please. Make it your own.”

Taehyung said something you didn’t quite hear, though you bowed out of a reflex when he did. You were drawing a blank.

“What do you say?” Taehyung asked with a smile, hopeful, and you just blinked at him, and then at Jimin.

His jawline twitched as though he feared you’d cause a scene, and you could feel something inside your chest collapse. The tears stinging your eyes were suddenly embarrassing, and the anger flared inside you a thousandfold. None of that was fair: his attitude, changing partners, not talking to you, not treating you with fucking respect, not—

“Oh, I know what you’re thinking,” Taehyung interrupted your thoughts with a thoughtful, soft voice. “I’m not a teacher like Jimin is, but I can promise you I’ll do my best to learn every step with you.”

“You’re perfectly experienced,” Jimin retorted, twisting your stomach yet again. Why wouldn’t he let you talk? “You could be a trainer here if you wanted.”

Taehyung smiled and answered, but you didn't hear it. That was it, the moment you made a decision.

You bowed to Taehyung again specifically, who rushed to bow back, then spun on your heels and walked away.

You heard the silence behind you but you were too busy containing your stomach’s content to care. You only stopped when the harsh winter cold hit your cheeks, and finally it seemed like you could breathe. Yet, instantly, your guts twisted, and you bent forward, staring at the snow as your mouth filled with saliva. All you could do was control your breath as your eyes filled with tears, waiting to see if you’d vomit or not.

“Are you okay?”

Hoseok’s voice didn’t startle you, and since it was him, you didn’t bother pretending you were fine. You shook your head. “It will pass.”

He nodded though you didn’t see it. “Maybe a bit of water?”

“No, I can’t… stomach anything right now.”

While you tried taking deep, cold breaths to soothe your guts and nerves, Hoseok looked around before focusing back on you. He didn’t have to ask to know why you were there in that state. He had told Jimin this was a terrible idea, that running away was the wrong decision, but there was nothing he could do.

Hoseok sighed, “Taehyung is a really good guy and a good dancer. He’s very happy to have the opportunity to dance again, but he won’t hold it against you if you decide you don’t want to do it.”

You swallowed convulsively for a moment before asking, “Again?”

“He had to stop for a while, but he missed it. This is perfect for him to restart.”

You straightened up and sniffled, “But we’d only train for one month.”

“He’ll pick up quickly. Besides, you’re doing it for the experience, right?”

Your lips twitched into a smile and you nodded before looking down. “Yeah.”

You took in a few more deep breaths, then refused Hoseok’s company all the way back to the room. Taehyung was exiting the dance studio by himself, looking a bit dejected, and you called out to him.

“Sorry about that, I’m feeling better,” you said and bowed deeply when you reached him. “I’d be willing to give it a go if you are?”

He was a bit flustered. “Oh, you mean— Sure, of course, yeah!”

You were happy that Jimin was nowhere to be seen when you both reentered the dance room. Even though that place was full of memories, you could at least be yourself with Taehyung if Jimin was not around.

Taehyung headed to the music box, saying something about Cha-cha-cha first when you spun on your heels to face him. “Are you human?”

He froze and looked at you, caught off guard.

“Wouldn’t want to start this without being truthful,” you added in a quieter tone, and Taehyung nodded.

“Well, you’re right. I mean, we live secretly, but I suppose it’s okay to tell you if you keep it a secret.” He winked, and you looked at him with glistening, red eyes.

“You wouldn’t tell me because you’re afraid I’d tell?”

He turned to face you fully. “No, I wouldn’t because you might be afraid of me.”

You had no filters; you finally had the chance to ask, “If you’re supposed to prey on me, shouldn’t I be?”

He chuckled, “I suppose you’re right, but it’s not like that. Besides, I’m perfectly well-fed. No danger whatsoever.”

“Good to know.”

“So you’re not scared of me?”

You looked up at him, momentarily lost in your thoughts. Taehyung wasn’t stupid, he could see your expression and guess something was up, but he was patient. You nodded. “No, you’re well-fed.”

Fortunately, he understood you were joking and smirked. “Now that we’ve shared secrets, how about we just warm up a little? To get a sense of each other?”

You agreed and looked around while you took off your coat; the memories of the room risked paralyzing you, but you shook your head and tried. Taehyung was taller, so your posture was different, and even the simplest of steps required an adjustment. Instead of comparing every detail to Jimin, or feeling as though you had just been pushed over onto Taehyung like an annoyance, you tried your best to actually work with him and find a middle ground.

It took a while, but you were able to dance the basics to one full song, so Taehyung left you for a moment to change the song. It gave you a moment to press your neck and grimace.

“Oh.”

You turned to him, and despite trying to hide the bite marks on your neck, you knew he saw them.

“I see, that’s why you asked…” he started, then shook his head. “But I need to ask… was it consensual?” Your posture became rigid, and he raised his hands placatingly. “You can tell me, it’s okay. If you wanted it to happen, then it’s good. But you should know it’s not allowed otherwise, so…”

“I… didn’t know it could happen but… I don’t regret that it did.”

He frowned ever so slightly, but before he opened his mouth, he glanced behind you. You knew the door was closed and there was no one behind you, you could see it in the mirror. 

“Did… Jimin do that?” he asked quietly, and you nodded. “I see. Maybe we should start next week—”

“No, it’s fine.”

“Maybe we can take it a bit slower, then.”

You agreed and noticed how much gentler Taehyung was for the remainder of your practice, making no sudden movements nor complicated steps. Still, you remained fairly rigid and were thankful when the training came to an end.

“Here.”

You thanked Taehyung for the electrolyte drink he brought you while you cleaned yourself with a towel and were thankful to sit down to drink it.

He sat down on the floor near you. “Have you… talked? To Jimin.”

“He doesn't want to talk to me.”

Taehyung hummed and glanced at the floor, and you took a few sips of the sugary drink.

“You know him well?”

He nodded. “We’re very close friends.”

“You're the first friend outside of the gym that I've met. And we still met at the gym.” You chuckled. “Even after almost a year.”

He was nodding, about to agree with something, but then his jaw dropped. “He resisted you that long? Woah, that's… impressive.”

“Maybe I made it easy.”

He tsked at your depreciative smile. “Not at all. I'm sure he told you how sweet you smell.”

“Hmm, no…” He raised a skeptical eyebrow, and you insisted, “Really, he didn't. I do?”

He nodded. “I'd say you're hard to resist.”

“You're doing just fine.”

He chuckled, “Well… let's say that it's a mix of knowing that it's not allowed and knowing there will be consequences.”

“Oh… like prison?”

He glanced at the same spot yet again, then hummed, “Something… like that.”

You were looking at your feet in thought. “Well, I don’t think it was a problem. He said he didn’t want my blood or to feed. I… never knew until he bit me. You know?” Taehyung nodded, and you looked back down. “I would have never known, I’m… I was just his little light.”

You were mumbling, but Taehyung heard you loud and clear and blushed. He eyed you once again, and suddenly, so much made sense, including how Jimin was acting.

“Well, anyway,” you stretched your legs on the wood floor, “I guess you're entering the competition with me now and… that's it.”

“It?”

“Yeah.” You nodded sadly. “He basically ghosted me, and nothing else connects us, and I… I mean, what am I?” You chuckled, “I guess I smell sweet, that's it.”

“I don't think that's it…”

He was frowning, but you didn’t see; you sighed, “You're sounding like Hoseok, and I'm starting to think you're both blind. You saw how he talks to me, or doesn’t.” You shrugged, though it was clear it annoyed you. “I'm insignificant. Maybe it's better this way.”

Taehyung took a deep breath to reel his thoughts in and asked, “Better? Why?”

“Because things would change, right? I'm just human, maybe I'd be a constant liability.”

His eyes hardened. “Or maybe he would be? With your friends and family?”

You chuckled, “You think he'd bite them?”

“No,” he answered, even though he realized you were trying to be funny. He couldn’t take it lightheartedly when it was clear you didn’t know so much about the situation. “He would change you by being with you. He didn't tell you about this?”

You were confused and shook your head. “He didn't tell me a thing. Change me how? Make me one of you?”

He opened his mouth, then pressed his lips. “No, there are other ways and… He should be the one to tell you this, though I suppose that’s his call. Just stop thinking so poorly of yourself, you’re wonderful.”

You snorted, “He left me without a word two days ago. I don’t feel wonderful.”

He heaved a deep breath and said little else because what could he say to you? He himself didn’t understand Jimin, and that was rare and odd.

He walked you out, smiling when you promised to drink way more fluids and rest well so you could dance harder next time. You were adorable, which made the sad smile on your face that much more heartbreaking.

Which was why, when you left, he instantly darted to the staff room where he knew he’d find a vampire stuck in time, listening carefully.

“She’s gone, but I suppose that if you drank from her two days ago, then you surely know that,” he said as soon as he entered the room, and surely enough, Jimin was there, sitting in a corner, frozen still with his eyes closed. Taehyung didn’t have to ask to know Jimin had been listening to your heart all along. It would bring him comfort, and it angered Taehyung even more. “So she’s the one? I mean, we all guessed it had to be someone, but you one-upped our wildest guesses. You found your muse, you bit her, and left her in the dark?”

Jimin opened his eyes slowly with a rigid expression but didn’t open his mouth.

“Why invite me to be her dance partner if you’re going to be brooding in a room nearby with such a threatening aura that you’re scaring everyone in the building?”

Jimin’s teeth ground for a second, and he looked away. He wished he could deny it, but there was no point.

“The least you could do is take care of her,” Taehyung poked, and Jimin finally opened his mouth.

“I am.”

“You didn't tell her anything,” Taehyung accused in disbelief. “She's weak, you didn't even tell her to drink and rest more or—”

Jimin suddenly got up and crossed the room towards the door. “This conversation is over.”

“It's not. Asking me to replace you fixes nothing. She's still hurt. She thinks she's meaningless to you, meanwhile, you've been calling her little light.”

Taehyung said everything he had to quickly enough that Jimin froze before he reached the door.

“She thinks she'd be a liability for you because you didn’t tell her that it's the opposite,” Taehyung continued, and Jimin turned to see the same disappointment in his eyes as was laced all over his tone. “You want to tether yourself to her, and that will change her. She'll have to sacrifice aspects of her life and—”

“She doesn't have to know that!”

“Why not?” Taehyung challenged, seeing easily how his friend was suffering. “You can't live without her, so what? You'll just watch her from afar?”

“Yes!”

“You'll be miserable.”

“So be it!”

“And her? She'll be miserable, too.”

Jimin was ready to fight to the last consequences, but he faltered. “She won’t. She will have a fulfilling life and—”

“Without you?”

He looked down. “Yes.”

“I don't think so. If you feel this way about her, how do you think she feels?”

“She— She's human, she—” he stumbled on his words, then swallowed. “She'll get over it.”

“She's yours.”

Jimin was overrun by goosebumps; he knew it in his blood, but he couldn’t get enough of the world telling him this.

“And if she's a muse, then she's not just human, is she? She'll be miserable because there will always be a missing piece. And because of you, she can't even name it.”

“Shut it!” Jimin took a step forward, ready to push him away. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Tell her,” Taehyung said simply, suppressing a sigh. “At least give her the option.”

Jimin knew his anger was misdirected, and wasn’t surprised when it faded quickly. Sorrow replaced it swiftly. “I can't. I know what she'll choose.”

Taehyung frowned. “And you can't live with it?”

“No, I can't.” Jimin saw Taehyung’s confusion and clarified, “She'll choose me, and I can't do that to her.”

“And if she doesn't?”

He chuckled humorlessly, “Then I'll struggle to find a reason to live.”

“So you prefer to deny her the choice?” Taehyung frowned, and Jimin couldn’t face him. “You're selfish, you know that?”

Present

Jimin was contemplating the use of living without you when his phone started ringing.

He lay in his living room in silence. The heavy curtains, perpetually drawn regardless of the moon in the sky, muffled the sounds of rain, though not the ringing, unfortunately. Still, like everything else, he hoped it would go away if he ignored it.

The phone stopped and restarted two seconds later, making him groan and rub at his face. 

He didn’t want to move, didn’t want to do anything. He knew exactly what time it was and who was likely to call, and he wasn’t there on purpose. He’d been hiding for a month, and he’d keep on hiding.

One month. He couldn’t believe it, but time was different for him. After all, he was a vampire; time was a funny concept. He could feel it ticking, but it was meaningless. The competition was just one more in an endless sequence of yearly events, barely noticeable. You were the only difference, and he had to shut you away. Thinking about you and time hurt him unbearably.

He’d outlive you. He’d see you live your human life, find love, have a family, and have a life you couldn’t have by his side, at least if everything went according to plan. Yet despite willingly sacrificing his heart and happiness for you to have a fulfilling life, he knew that in a few centuries, he’d still look back and reminisce about you like no time had passed at all. He’d torture himself with the moment he lost you, curse his existence without you, then collect the pieces of his crumbled heart with the memory of your smile, over and over again, until he was finally spent.

But right now, he was just a vampire pretending he wasn’t dying to be elsewhere. You were probably in Taehyung’s arms, twirling beautifully as you smiled and twinkled like the brightest sun. At least, you used to in Jimin’s arms, and he hoped you would in Taehyung’s as well.

But in the end, Jimin would never know because he couldn’t torture himself and see you dancing with Taehyung. He knew you had become close, Taehyung was open about it, and you were doing much better than the last time Jimin saw you. You were forgetting him because time was a fluid concept to you, and he couldn’t blame you. He’d rather see you flourish than be miserable. He’d rather you lived and showed everyone the light inside you during the competition and afterward as well.

His phone rang for the third time, and his eyes snapped open despite his seemingly comforting thoughts. He was ready to grab his phone and throw it against the wall, but he didn’t.

“Why are you calling me?” he asked, answering Taehyung’s call with a frown, and the shaky voice that answered immediately made him uneasy.

“Jimin! It’s bad, you need to come to the gym!”

He sat up. “Why?”

“We were dancing and— and she was fine, but then— she slipped and— She’s bleeding, it’s really bad!”

Was Taehyung running? He sounded out of breath.

“How bad?” Jimin’s voice was quiet and low as he got up.

“She ran downstairs and quite a few have gone berserk.”

Jimin growled as he gripped his dark hair. “What the fuck are you calling me for?! Get her out!”

“I can’t go much nearer either! She smells too sweet and— You have to come! We’re trying to keep them from going downstairs, but— Fuck, you have to come!”

He had already moved toward the door to grab his coat and put some shoes on.

“I’m on my way,” he growled before ending the call and rushing out.

He couldn’t think further than imagining you alone, hurting. The thought of anyone touching you made something stir inside him that, on another occasion, could have worried or scared him, but right now, it was more than justified. If anyone dared to touch you, he would tear them limb from limb. It was a visceral, feral, uncontrollable reaction — that was likely why everyone could sense him so clearly in the last month. He might not have been near you, but he stayed as close as he could without you detecting him, and everyone knew you were not to be harmed or even looked at wrong.

His nose wrinkled before he even entered the building. Perhaps because he had tasted you a month before, he could still pick up faint traces of your scent, even if he couldn’t hear your heartbeat anymore. Though he tried as he barged inside, the silence didn’t disturb him as much as the scene playing out in front of him. Multiple vampires were acting up in the lobby, fighting, hissing, trying to pass through a staff door that Taehyung was barricading with his body. Not so many vampires passed Jimin on their way out and looking around, it was at least clear that the other humans had already run away. Probably because someone had been clever enough to activate the fire alarm, which was still going off.

If Jimin were lucid, he’d worry about the few minutes left to handle the situation before the fire department arrived, but he was also not thinking clearly. The difference was that he wasn’t feral with the need to drink but with the need to protect.

He made his way to Taehyung, but his eyes caught the traces of blood still left on the floor, some smudged from either being stepped on or licked, and he couldn’t help a deep hiss. Suddenly, he felt twice his size and stronger than ever — he wouldn’t allow anyone else to touch you. Ever.

Some recoiled at his presence, and those who didn’t were promptly grabbed and thrown as though they were weightless. Taehyung was relieved to see him, tired and covered in scratches, bruises, and light red stains.

He smiled. “Finally.”

“Let me through.”

Taehyung kicked someone lurking just nearby, waiting for the chance to pounce, before getting off the door. “Hoseok is inside, fighting the ones who managed to get through.”

Jimin only growled, with his narrowing vision turning red. He didn’t hear anything else, he simply passed the threshold when Taehyung opened the door and made his way downstairs. The struggle noises reached his ears, and he would have ignored them if they didn’t match the trail of your blood. Arriving in front of a big metal door, he found Hoseok fighting four male vampires, each one more unhinged and injured than the next. 

Hoseok was relieved to see him, but the others were in no condition to recognize the danger they were in, and Jimin didn’t hesitate. One second he was still going down the stairs, the next he had collided harshly with the closest one, smashing his head against the wall. He instantly turned to the closest one and jumped on them, biting down to rip their throat open, and Hoseok had to kick the vampire’s leg to change the angle to try and save him.

“Just leave,” he heaved, panting, elbowing one that was trying to get him off the door while the last tried to bite his ankle.

Jimin wasn’t able to rip open the vampire’s throat, but his hiss after he rolled away on the floor was the last warning. It was somewhat effective. Despite being alive, the vampire’s throat was still lacerated, so he ran away swiftly. The one whose head banged the wall found himself lucid enough to follow after the first, and after that, the remaining two started cowering and stepping away slowly. They were confused in their wild state; why was Jimin coming onto them so strongly? They just wanted a small bite—

Jimin hissed again with his teeth fully extended and they decided it wasn’t worth it. They stumbled on each other to scurry off up the stairs, and Jimin focused on Hoseok, who raised his hands in the air. “It’s me. I’m not a threat.”

Jimin’s vision was still red. He closed his fists in an effort to hold back. “Out.”

Hoseok nodded and unglued his back from the metal door. “I’m leaving it to you.”

Jimin was still in position as his hyung left up the stairs and he would have stayed at the ready until Hoseok disappeared if it weren’t for your voice muffled and worried through the door.

“Hoseok? Are you okay?”

Jimin jumped on instinct against the door to get to you, but it was locked shut. He heard you stumble back and raised his fists from the metal so he wouldn’t use brute force on it. He called your name, “Hey, it’s— It’s me, it’s Jimin.” His voice trembled as he waited for a response, but you didn’t say anything else and his eyes teared up. “Please, can you open the door? Please, I— I can smell— I know you’re hurt, please. Please, let me in,” his voice wavered in desperation. That heavy metallic door was the last barrier between you, and he didn’t want to kick it open and scare you, but he needed to get to you. “I promise it’s safe, I’ll keep you safe. Please, let me in. Please, little light. Please…”

He was focusing on your heartbeat, and its rushed thrumming was making him anxious. Were you still scared? Were you scared of him? The faster your heart beated, the more you’d bleed, and—

The door vibrated along with a few noises, and he pulled back, waiting for you to pull it open. Once you did, you were a vision and put him on his knees. The scent of your blood hit him a thousandfold, drowning his senses in a familiar sweetness that brought tears to his eyes. For a split second, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to function, but then you rushed forward and threw yourself in his arms.

He caught you, and his overwhelmed senses were washed away with relief. It wasn’t just your blood, but your perfume, your warmth, your touch, and your heart singing happily to him, and he cried. He hid in your neck, breathing you in, and his teeth retracted. You were sobbing in his arms, and so was he.

“I’m so sorry, this should have never happened,” he mumbled, wishing to drown in you and stay like this forever. “I should have been here, I should have never left you by yourself, I— I was always there, but today I was a coward and I’m so sorry—”

You pulled away, keeping him at arm’s length by his shoulders, and he just looked at you. He was crying and had traces of something like strawberry sauce on his chin. His eyes were glistening sadly and your heart convulsed; you believed he was sorry this had happened, and it broke your heart into tears that you wiped away as you stepped back. You hadn’t talked in a month; this was not what you had hoped he was sorry for.

“Is Hoseok alright? And Taehyung?”

Jimin was still on his knees in the same place, looking at you with tears down his cheeks. “They’re a bit roughed up but I’m certain they’re alright.” You nodded and pressed the back of your left arm, and Jimin raised trembling fingers. “You’re still bleeding.”

“Yeah.” You nodded. You had ripped your red dress to make a tourniquet just above the wound, but it was still going. “I think I need stitches.”

“I can… I can take a look, maybe I can…” He swallowed as he looked at you, then shook his head. “I wouldn't hurt you, I promise.”

“I know.” You were casual about it, revealing your wound and raising your arm so he could see it.

His eyes flicked over the wound before falling back into your eyes; your heart didn’t change a beat. You were not scared.

His hands trembled as he raised them to gently angle your arm so he could see better, and he swallowed dryly. Despite being so close to the source and inebriated by the scent, he realized that what disturbed him was not your blood, but the way you were injured and in danger. When he pressed the wound closed, making you wince, he didn’t feel the slightest temptation to lick or consume the crimson nectar flowing onto his fingers. On the contrary, he was focused on your injury.

“I can make it stop bleeding, but I think it’s too deep,” he said, pressing the wound as he kept it above your head. “You need a hospital.”

You nodded. “Okay.”

His heart shook and for a moment he didn’t know what to do. You were right there, in front of him, looking at him, but you were… distant. He wanted to hug you, hold you, cry with how much he had missed you, but he couldn’t. Your eyes were cold, and he couldn’t move.

You moved to get up from your knees, and he accompanied you, never losing the connection between your wound and his hand. “If you think it’s safe, I can just—”

“Not yet,” he mumbled. He needed just one second more to look at you.

“Okay, but I can…” You tried moving away, but he just moved with you. “I can do that, you don’t have to do it.”

“I can’t let go.”

Your lips twitched. “Don’t tell me I’m finally hard to resist.”

“What?” He blinked, brought out of the haze by your bitter remark, and you shook your head.

“Never mind.” You grabbed his wrist and pulled it away. “I can do it, you can go.”

You pressed your wound and walked back, further into the boiler room, and Jimin stood there, frozen, looking at you.

“I can wait, just tell Hoseok or Taehyung to come and get me when it’s safe.”

Jimin had to swallow a growl and take a deep breath to stay calm. You were pushing him away, clearly telling him you trusted them more, and it infuriated him. “You’re safer with me.”

You glanced at him with cold eyes. “I’m safe with them.”

His fists closed. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You looked away. “Just because you don’t talk to me, it doesn’t mean others don’t. I trust them.”

“More than you trust me?”

His eyes were thundering, his jawline set with annoyance, and your long pause made him even angrier. He could read it in your eyes; he had bitten you. Of course, you didn’t trust him as much as them. But you couldn’t know how different—

“They’re my friends.”

He was taken aback, but his anger didn’t let him stop and think. “I’m more than a friend.”

You scoffed, “You’re nothing.”

His eyes narrowed. “What?”

And you snapped, “Where’s the surprise? You wanted nothing to do with me, what is there to be angry about?” You were incredulous, and he was stunned. “You don’t have to stay here, you can just call them, they’ll help me, so—” Your voice wavered with emerging tears and you looked away. “So just go.”

You turned your back on him, lightheaded and dizzy, so you didn’t see him trying to think things through.

“You think… I want nothing to do with you?”

His voice sounded muffled as a shudder ran through you, and suddenly, you were falling back with the room spinning around you. You tried reaching out for something to hold onto, but your grip wouldn’t have held anyway. Fortunately, you fell into a steady embrace right before being picked up bridal style.

“You’ve lost too much blood. I’m taking you to an ambulance, okay?”

He was talking to you, and you just nodded, feeling as though you were floating, the ceiling lights a blur as he carried you upstairs.

Jimin was hyper-aware of everything, including what awaited you two upstairs. He could hear the sirens from the fire department and the ambulance and knew most vampires had run off already.

As soon as he stepped outside with you, he exchanged glances with Hoseok, who promptly smiled at the firefighter’s chief. “It was likely just out of panic. It seems someone got hurt in the commotion.”

The chief’s piercing look was on the two of you as Jimin carried you to place you on a gurney, and paramedics were quickly on you to evaluate your condition.

Jimin didn’t leave your side, even as Taehyung eyed him from another ambulance where he was getting treated by a paramedic for the bruises on his face. Not that he needed it, but he played the part just like the others. Except you, of course, who were hanging onto your consciousness as you answered the paramedic.

“I hit… the mirror… my arm…”

The chief stayed silent as his team scrutinized the gym despite Hoseok’s attempts to downplay the event. At least until the paramedic nodded as she said, “You need stitches. We’re taking you in.”

“No fire,” the last firefighter said as they exited the building, and Hoseok smiled.

“See? It was probably some prank.”

“You have injured attendees.” The chief scratched his chin as you were taken into the ambulance, and Taehyung was told to join you.

“Tae,” you called, extending your hand to him when he sat by your side.

“I’m here,” he reassured you, taking your hand firmly.

Jimin ignored Hoseok's attempts to convince the chief to allow him to still host the competition and jumped into the ambulance.

The paramedic turned to him, but he was quicker. “I’m accompanying them.”

*****

Jimin refused to leave your side as you got stitches, even once Taehyung was cleared.

“I can stay,” he offered. “Hoseok likely went on with the competition, so you should go help him.”

Jimin’s eyes didn’t move from the doctor’s hands as he treated you. “No.” He didn’t bother explaining how the very notion of being anywhere else was ludicrous. “You should help him if you can.”

“Or I can stay.” Taehyung’s tone hardened as he touched Jimin’s shoulder, and it finally managed to draw his eyes away from you. Albeit a sharp, dark gaze that made Taehyung withdraw his hand fast. “Are you forgetting how you left things with her? She might not want you here.”

Jimin’s jawline twitched as he looked back at you. You were purposefully looking the other way so you wouldn’t see the needle, but it also hid you away from him. It unsettled him, and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I’m not forgetting, I…”

You’re nothing.

His heart churned as he looked down. “I need to talk to her. You were right, I… I should have at least explained to her why I had to stay away. She thinks I want nothing to do with her and—” He rubbed his eyes away from you. “It fucking hurts that she doesn’t know how I— I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing,” he confessed, looking at Taehyung with glossy eyes.

He patted his shoulder. “You’re figuring it out. I’m happy to hear that you want to talk to her at least.”

”I don’t want to take my eyes off her ever again.”

The vulnerable and pained shine in Jimin’s eyes gave away the longing in his heart, and Taehyung patted his shoulder again. “It’s her call.”

Jimin nodded as the doctor finished wrapping your arm with a bandage. “Maybe… Stay,” he asked, looking at Taehyung, who nodded. 

The doctor gave you instructions and left to grab a prescription, and Jimin and Taehyung neared you.

“How are you feeling?”

Taehyung’s voice was gentle, and you finally turned your head to that side. “It hurts,” you groaned, moving your arm slowly before pressing it to your side again. Your eyes didn’t miss Jimin, but you still focused on Taehyung. “They’ll give me a sling and everything.”

“At least you're on vacation.” Taehyung smiled, trying to cheer you up, and Jimin's sad eyes drank your expression as much as he could. 

You huffed. “Yeah, I’ll have to submit a doctor's note to convert it into medical leave, and my boss will be pissed cause that means I’ll have extra days next year.”

You were speaking so casually before the doctor returned to give you all the documents and medicine you needed, and Jimin teared up. It was his own fault, but he missed you terribly. How had he ever stayed away? How had he even lived?

The answer was simple — he hadn’t.

And now, looking at you, discharged with your arm in a sling because you got injured because he wasn’t there, he couldn’t help longing for a place in your life. For the warmth of your eyes, the gentleness of your touch. He’d give anything.

You stopped at the hospital’s exit and pointed at the taxis on standby. “I’ll take a cab home. Guess no competition for me.” You chuckled. “Just couldn’t fix the clumsy in me.”

“That’s not—” Jimin’s impulse to comfort you and say something made you turn to him, and the stone coldness in your eyes froze him. Taehyung’s eyes were also on him, perhaps expectantly, and Jimin cleared his voice. “I’ll take you home.”

“I can go by myself.”

“You can, but we’re not letting you.” Taehyung’s tone was soothing, and you sighed.

“I’ve given you enough trouble.”

“No trouble at all,” he retorted with a small smile. “Besides, he’s dying to take you.”

Your expression hardened as you glanced at Jimin, who couldn’t stop berating himself for letting things develop like this.

“He won’t hurt you.” Whatever made Taehyung say those words made Jimin frown at him while your shoulders relaxed.

“I know.” Your eyes showed the faintest spark of emotion towards Jimin, and he wished he could pick you up in his arms like he used to. “Come along, then. I’m tired.”

You woke up with a groan as you got off your left side. The pressure on your wound hurt now that the medication had worn off, but at least it didn’t hurt as bad as the day before. You sighed, cursing your luck, and opened your eyes.

It was dark.

You frowned, glancing at the floor to check that, indeed, there was daylight on the other side of the curtains.

“I drew them closed.”

Jimin’s quiet voice almost made your heart jump out of your chest; you hadn’t noticed him.

“I can open them if you’d like.”

You let your head fall back into the pillow with your eyes still on him. “Wouldn’t you have to leave, then?”

“Just into another room. You need your light, I get it.”

You sighed. “I don’t need light. I’m not a plant, I don’t do photosynthesis.”

“But you’d feel better.”

You huffed and raised your head to glare at him. “How would you know what makes me feel better?”

Your tone had enough punch that he looked down before getting up. “I can only guess. I’ve bought Gatorade and—”

“I like looking at the stars,” you interrupted firmly, looking into his eyes. “If I had to pick what makes me feel better, I’d choose driving to the outskirts to gaze at the stars on the hood of your car with a blanket like we—”

Your voice wavered, and you closed your eyes, letting your head fall. Why were you telling him this? It didn’t matter. 

He stepped closer to you. “If I could, I’d take you right now. I’d make it nightfall just so we could go and look at the dark sky all night.”

“Stop,” you asked, closing your eyes before they’d tear up. “Why are you still here?”

“To make sure you’re okay.”

“Well, I’m okay. You can go now.”

His lips twitched before he turned to leave the room, and you sucked in a deep breath. Of course, he’d just leave; he didn’t actually care. Why was he pretending to—

He stalked back inside and placed a couple of pills and an orange plastic bottle with a big white G on your nightstand.

You bit your lip. “Well, there you go. I’ll be fine now.”

“I know you will,” he said quietly, sitting over the covers beside your legs. “I was… hoping to talk to you.”

You observed his features for a silent moment, confirming his earnestness. Then, you grabbed the pills and the bottle. “You’re ready to talk?”

He licked his lips. “I… Yes. And I’m sorry it took me so long.” His eyes stayed on you as you took the pills and subsequent sips of the drink. He picked the orange flavor, your favorite. “This conversation will happen a month too late and… I was a coward,” he forced out, clearing his voice. “None of this should have happened. I’ve done everything wrong from start to finish, but I just… I wanted to protect you, but I’m selfish and…”

“You should start at the beginning,” you suggested, and he couldn’t tell what you were feeling by your tone or expression. Did you despise him? Did you want him to get it over with? Did you miss him? Had you already forgotten him?

“You’re right, I… I don’t know how much Taehyung already told you.”

“That’s beside the point.”

He pressed his lips and looked down. “You’re right again. It’s just… hard to start.”

You looked down at the bottle half-empty in your hand. “I’m human and you’re a vampire. Why did you even look at me? Why make that mistake?”

He straightened back. “What?”

“That’s what you said. That we were a mistake.” 

Your tone was dry, but you couldn’t look at him for long, and he leaned forward. “Not you, not— That’s not what I— You are not a mistake, you’re perfect.”

You scoffed and kept your eyes down. “That sounds so much like bullshit.”

“It’s not!”

“It is,” you insisted with a firm look. “Just say it like it is.”

“You could never be a mistake,” he deadpanned, irritation setting his jaw. “My mistake was to think I could keep myself away from you. Another was to not tell you about what I am. Then another was to run away from you because I was so scared of what you’d think, of what you’d decide, and— I just made mistakes left and right, but you were never one of them.”

Your eyes glistened, and your lips trembled, and he wished he could brush your cheek and hold you in his arms.

You sniffled. “So can you tell me now? About what you are?”

He eyed your hand but refrained from taking it. “Yeah. I’m a vampire, originally from Busan. I’m seventy-five years old—”

“Same as Taehyung, then.”

He nodded with a bitter smile. “Yeah, he told you?” You nodded, and he sighed. “Then you probably already know most of this. We need blood to live, we are allergic to the sun, and we live in secret.”

“Is that why you didn’t tell me? You didn’t want to scare me?”

“No, I… I never thought you would be scared. There is more to this and…” He heaved a deep breath. “I thought I was keeping you safe.”

You chuckled. “Clearly, trouble seems to follow me.”

He reached for your hand. “It’s not your fault. It’s actually mine.” You were confused but didn’t let go of his hand, and he gained the courage to tell you, “I knew you were special from the moment I met you. You’re not just any human, you’re my human.”

“What?”

“It’s a myth, or I thought it was, and so I never thought I’d find you. But the story goes that there’s one single human in the world for each vampire, a mate.”

“But… we’re food.”

He chuckled, “You’re not food, you’re special. You’re a special type of human. One that, if bonded to a vampire, can sacrifice aspects of human nature to stay by their side.”

“What do you mean?”

He pursed his lips, but explained, “You can sacrifice aging and bearing children and walking under the sun for a lifetime by my side.”

“What the fuck?”

You were shocked, and he grimaced. “I know. It goes against your human nature but—”

“Wait, you said your side? Because I’m your human?”

He nodded. “You’re the one for me. My muse,” he whispered with eyes filled with wonder.

“So… what do you have to sacrifice?”

He laughed softly, “Nothing in comparison. You become the center of my universe, and only you make sense.”

“What does that mean?”

“That you’d be my only partner. To live and to… feed.”

Your eyebrows jumped. “You said you didn’t want to feed on me.”

“And I don’t, if it makes sense. I don’t want to bleed you dry, and I wouldn’t take more than necessary, but it’s still possible to lose control. There are stories of vampires who killed their muses in fits of jealousy or when deceived by enemies, and— It’s a lot. So when I met you, I knew who you were and… I couldn’t resist the desire to stay by your side. I thought I could stay away but of course I couldn’t,” he scorned himself, shaking his head. “Every step of the way, I convinced myself I could be with you without making this a big deal. Between pulling you into my world to be coveted and harmed, having to sacrifice building a family and eventually having to watch yours die, or staying by your side for as long as you wanted me while letting you enjoy your human life… I thought that was the best choice.”

“You do realize that eventually I’d start aging and notice you don’t? Eventually, I’d notice things were off. Like never meeting any family of yours or… What would happen when I wanted more?”

“I… didn’t think it through but… more?”

His eyes were curious, and you shrugged. “I don’t know. Marriage, moving in together, kids—”

“You want kids?”

“Not in particular, but the topic would have come up.”

He looked down at your joined hands, immersed in his thoughts, and you squeezed his hand.

“Don’t go making decisions by yourself,” you warned with a piercing look. “We’re talking, and if I’m your human and you’re my vampire, then you’ll tell me everything so we can figure it out together.”

His heart was already hurting with the thought of letting you go, but your bossy tone made him smile and nod.

“So what happened when you bit me?”

He groaned, “I think the inevitable just happened. I kept the urge at bay, but when you said you loved me, I… couldn’t keep it in.”

“What? Wanting to bite me?”

“Yes, but… it’s a special type of bite. The one that would bond us forever. The one that would fill you with my venom, purging those human traits so you could live by my side and be mine. I stopped on time, fortunately,” his voice wavered as he hid his eyes. “I panicked when I realized what I was doing, and everything just came crashing down. You didn’t know about any of this, so I felt like I was violating you. I promised you’d be safe with me, but at that moment, I became a monster, taking away your choices, risking killing you on an impulse.”

“So you ran away from me?”

His eyes snapped up. “I told you, I made mistakes left and right. I didn’t want to tell you because I was afraid of your decision.”

You hummed. “How so?”

“If you decide you want to do it, I’ll be responsible for taking away beautiful things from your life. If you decide you don’t want to do it, I’ll—” He couldn’t say it. He licked his lips. “I’d have to find a way to live.”

You could see the anxiety in his eyes, yet you looked down at your hand in his. “That’s not enough. You panicked and realized your mistake; your next step should have been to tell me everything.”

“I know, and I’m sorry,” he said quietly, squeezing your hand. “I thought that the least you knew, the safer you’d be, but… It’s the opposite. I should have told you more. I should have understood that when I bit you, although I didn’t finish the process, I started it. You smell sweeter, and that fact alone puts you in more danger than any other human. This is all my fault, including staying home tonight so I wouldn’t see you dancing with Taehyung when it should have been me who—”

The words got choked in his throat, and you nodded. “It should have been, yes. But you still haven’t told me how you feel about all this.”

“What?” He was caught offhand, and you insisted.

“So what if I’m your human? Muse.” You were quiet, almost a mumble. “That doesn’t mean you…” You raised your eyes, and he was still staring at you, dumbfounded and waiting. “That doesn’t mean you want any of this. It’s not because you found me that—”

“I want you,” he cut in fervently, leaning forward and caging you with his free hand on the other side of your legs. “If I ever thought I wouldn’t love you with my whole soul, it was when I was fooling myself. You’re not just the human for me; you’re the one my heart longs for and bleeds for. My blood sings your name, though I know you can’t hear any of it, but I…”

You listened attentively and whispered, “It’s true, I can’t, so you have to say it.”

“I love you. I love you so much,” his voice wavered as he cupped your cheek. “You’re my heart, the only ray of light in the darkness, my hope, my—”

You leaned forward to press your lips to his, and he didn’t hesitate, moving closer to you so you’d be comfortable as he kissed you greedily. Your mouths moved in tandem, like old lovers who remembered each other’s hidden languages, and you sighed. You squeezed him to you, needing to feel him close because despite all the crazy, at least now you were certain of two things: you loved him, and he loved you.

When you pulled away, he let you go, pecking your cheek sweetly before moving back. He sighed deeply, though he didn’t say anything, and you pressed your lips.

“You’re an idiot, Jimin-ssi,” you said as you fell back to your pillow, and the fear in his eyes didn’t please you. “My idiot, but still.” He grabbed your hand again and squeezed. “I need time to get my head around things, and you’re going to stay with me and explain everything to me.”

He kissed your hand reverently. “Of course.”

“By my side, where I can see you.”

“I never wanted to leave you. I’ll do whatever you think is best, I just… I don’t want to steal away your chance at happiness.”

You hummed. “Happiness… its definition can change with time. That’s why I want time.”

He gripped your hand as if he was gripping hope. “It’s the type of decision you should make with time.”

“But…” You pouted. “If not me… That means you’re feeding on someone else.”

He shrugged. “Bags and it’s perfectly anonymous. I can wait.”

“You’d wait for me?”

“My whole life,” he whispered, touching your forehead with his. 

1 year later

You stood in front of the mirror in a dazzling red dress that sparkled every time you swayed your hips. It brought a soft smile to your face as you wondered how it would look in the videos surely recorded during your performance with Jimin. You couldn’t wait to see them, not just because you enjoyed yourself, but because it was one of the best moments of your life. You flew and spun under his guidance, eyes always connected as though nobody else was in the room, and it was good. It was the culmination of a year of relearning each other from a place of truth, this time, and of falling deeper than ever before.

You pulled the dress up over your head, and the reflection of the scar on the back of your left arm showed momentarily. You angled your arm to see it more clearly and recalled that night exactly one year prior. The stitch marks were faint but there because you never allowed Jimin to lick them away. You liked that mark on you, not because you enjoyed the way you hurt or feared, but because it reminded you of what could happen if you didn’t brace your fears. You think it did the same for Jimin.

The same Jimin who had initially run from you out of fear and had since stayed by your side every step of the way. You knew you needed time not just to make a decision, but to trust him again, and he had shown to you that he understood that and would stay by you regardless.

He did so in two major ways: he stepped into your life and welcomed you into his.

Despite living in secret, he asked you to invite Jiyu over to your place so he could explain the truth to her directly. You didn’t want him to risk his life or others, but he explained that she was important to you, so he’d trust her.

You couldn’t forget Jiyu’s shock at the revelation or her subsequent questions. “So, you feed on her?!”

Jimin explained what a muse was and added, “But I haven’t, and I won’t.”

“What do you mean?”

She had eyed you wearily, and you nodded. “I haven’t made a decision yet.”

She understood why you were taking your time, and it was true that Jimin hadn’t touched your blood since that fateful night. You had been together since, and you realized quickly that you could trust him with this — he promised he’d never bite you without your clear permission, and he had come through every time.

You were curious about it, of course. Especially since he explained that drinking while elated with pleasure would make him feel euphoric, but it would also feel amazing to you.

“But I don’t know if I can trust myself to stop on time if we were to try, so…”

So you respected his boundaries, too.

He had also met your whole family for the holidays, and if you didn’t know better, you’d think your sister had a thing for him.

“He’s just so… stunning,” she sighed with her one-year-old on her lap. “Just where did you find him?”

“Dance classes.” He had smiled, sitting next to you and making your sister turn tomato-red.

It was a nice evening, and although you agreed not to tell them about his unique nature, you appreciated that they’d know you were safe even when you decided to become absent.

Because you would.

You quickly realized what your decision would be, but you stayed true to your promise to Jiyu and Jimin to take your time. Of course, you enjoyed feeling the sun on your skin or the prospect of growing old together with Jiyu and your sister, but… letting go of Jimin in death made you anxious.

You couldn’t imagine your life without him, and if meeting his family and stepping into his world could have made you change your mind, in all honesty… it didn’t.

“Who are you?”

You had flinched at the sudden pair of big, doe, dark brown eyes staring at you while you waited for Jimin at the entryway of this big modern mansion with a grand view over the sea.

You stammered your name before you heard hurried steps. “Jungkook, let her breathe!”

He turned to Jimin and pointed at you. “This is her, right?! Finally!” He turned to you, even more curious. “She does smell sweet but… That’s it?” He tilted his head, and Jimin grabbed your hand to pull you back. “I thought there would be more to a muse?”

“Perhaps the difference is that Jimin is coming off as super hostile?”

People emerged from a doorway near the stairs to the first floor, and you were stunned speechless. Taehyung was gorgeous, but the man walking next to him who spoke first was nothing to scoff at. Why were they all so beautiful?

“He’s protective, not hostile,” Taehyung explained, giving you a soft smile. “Besides, he’s not as bad as before.”

“Won’t you stop that,” Jimin mumbled before turning to you and brushing your hair behind your shoulder, making sure with a quick look into your eyes that you were okay.

“Hoseok told us you were scaring his clientele away…”

“He’s exaggerating.” 

Jimin rolled his eyes as the others teased him, and while you learned the fourth vampire was called Jin and that they all had heard wonderful things about you, you couldn’t help but stare at them and look for flaws, but there were none.

“I have a question,” you dared to cut in, and all looked at you, one more stunning than the next. “Are you all beautiful because you’re vampires, or were you already before?”

“They were already before.” A casual voice made you turn to the staircase, where two male vampires were making their way down to join you. The tallest was smiling with cute dimples, while the one next to him, albeit a bit shorter, was as flawless as the others. “Though that’s not why I turned them.”

You blinked, realization dawning on you before he continued.

“I’m Namjoon, it’s an honor to finally meet you.”

Taking Namjoon’s hand had only been another nail in the proverbial coffin. You felt comfortable with those who would become your family and welcomed as an equal, even though you were quite different. The certainty that you could keep your individuality and love Jimin in your own way helped you envision a future that made you even surer of your decision.

So now, with the competition done and a year of reflection behind you, you decided not to put any other clothes back on.

“Little light?”

You saw Jimin appear through the mirror, smiling at you as he shrugged his way out of the blazer.

“I was thinking that I could run a bath if you feel like it.”

He opened his closet to put away his coat while you mused about it. “That’s a good idea. Maybe after.”

He was already unbuckling his belt, and you started opening his button-up shirt. “After? After what?”

His smile was gentle if a bit mischievous, and you bit your lip, knowing how you were about to stun him.

“After you bite me.”

He had pulled his belt off, and it fell to the ground. “What?”

“You heard me,” you said quietly, not stopping until you could push the white shirt over his shoulders.

“But— Are you sure?” His tone was anxious despite his hands on your waist pulling you closer. “I mean, I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself—”

“I don’t want you to.”

The air was knocked out of him. “Wh— You mean— Are you sure?”

You smiled. “I’m sure. I’ve taken my time and concluded every day that I love you and want to be with you.”

You caressed his shoulders gently, and he groaned, kissing your forehead before he revealed, “But we are together.”

“But there’s something missing, isn’t there?” You looked into his eyes and he didn’t deny it. “Like, I could be a part of you, or I should be, but I’m not.”

He swallowed. “You feel that?” You hummed, and he hid in your neck. “Thank fuck. I didn’t know if it was just me, so I didn’t want to say anything.”

“Jimin—”

“I’m happy as long as you’re by my side,” he continued, pulling away to look at you with so much sweetness. “Even though I want to bond and belong to you, body and soul, I know I already do. I don’t want that to be the reason—”

“It’s not. It’s my decision, and I thought about it long enough. I want it. I need it,” your voice wavered, and he cupped your cheeks.

“It should be special.”

“It is special.”

“My bedroom isn’t special.”

“I don’t care where, just take me.” You sounded desperate now, agonizing from his hands keeping you from searching for his kiss. “Please, make me a part of you. I want to be with you forever.”

He groaned and kissed you before peeling himself away to leave the room. You stood there, confused and cold, until he returned with a bag of blood.

He looked around for something while you blinked. “What are you doing?”

“Just in case,” he mumbled, finally finding some type of medical supply.

“In case what?”

“You change your mind or… it’s not safe,” he clarified, putting both things — a needle, you noticed — away solemnly before turning to you. Seeing your confusion, he reminded you, “I need you to bleed a lot and take in my venom. I don’t know how you’ll react.”

“The only way I can,” you said, moving closer to touch his chest. “I’ll take it and become even more yours than I already am.”

He grabbed the back of your head and pulled you to crash to his lips, moaning into your kiss with such yearning your insides melted. You never forgot the taste of his lips or the love palpitating in your chest, but it didn’t hurt to be reminded. To have his gentle fingers trailing up your curves, brushing your hair over your shoulders before turning back down to get you rid of your bra.

He leaned over your chest, suckling a nipple into his mouth before kneeling. His hands followed and pulled your underwear down, opening the way for him to kiss down your stomach.

He hid his face in your mound, deeply breathing you in. “I should make this last. I should— I should take my time—”

“The quicker you bite me, the faster I’ll become yours.”

He groaned and nipped your skin. “Don’t tease me, little light. This is an important moment we’ll remember for the rest of our lives.”

“Then it’s only right I tease you, don’t you think?”

He growled into your core before jumping back on his feet, grabbing you with your legs around his waist.

He put you on the bed and hovered above you as you hastily opened his slacks. “Lay back,” he asked, then grabbed your hands before you could have your way. “I need you to feel good first.”

“I’ll feel good as soon as you’re inside me—”

He pressed his lips to yours, groaning with such want you fluttered around nothing. 

“Making my life difficult, are you?”

“Interesting, my love. Interesting,” you whispered to his lips, nuzzling him to distract him, though you knew it wouldn't work.

He could feel your legs around him while your hands slowly but surely reached inside his slacks. As soon as one fingertip touched him, he succumbed to his desire to have your touch, and his hard cock fell heavy on your palm.

You squeezed him hard, loving the way he groaned before taking your mouth into a heated kiss. You could barely match his savagery, with his tongue so deep and overwhelming, you were breathless. Still, that didn’t mean you gave up on your prize. You could jerk him off just as intensely, making him buck his hips to slide in your hands.

You fastened your hands, wanting to torture him sweetly, and he pulled away from you with a curse. “You’ll be the death of me.”

You grinned, though you didn’t relent your pumping. “Gosh, I hope not.”

He smirked before he traced the side of your hip until his fingers skimmed over your wet folds. “Me too,” he sighed, observing how you gasped and lost focus. “I still have so much to do… and so little time.”

He didn’t hesitate, pushing two fingers inside you swiftly to steal away a moan.

“There you are,” he teased, leaning in to brush his lips over yours. “Can’t lose sight of what’s important, right?”

He nipped your lip, and you cursed. “Who’s teasing who now?”

He chuckled darkly, licking your lip as you tried not to writhe under him. Your legs spasmed, trying to give him more space to push his digits inside you while your hands barely held onto his hard shaft.

You were trying your best, but he just knew you too well. The squelching sounds were but the obvious proof that he knew your body and all the ways to make you fall apart, be it the long routes or the shortcuts.

You moaned his name, asking for a kiss, and he couldn’t resist you. As you let his mouth take away your capability to think, you gripped his dick harder and slowed your rhythm. It was inevitable that he’d follow after you, mimicking your fists around him to fingerfuck you with the same cadence. It allowed you to focus on his pleasure, on his breathing, on the way his lips swerved to nip your cheek as he got close, until his cock throbbed, and his hand darted to freeze yours.

The sounds of his moans were a pure delight as you licked your lips, enjoying every second. You had explored with him, finding ways to edge him through the nights you spent together, and one treasure you had found was how to make him cum without ejaculating. It kept him hard and hungry, and you had found it made him the most feral.

Suddenly, he pulled your hands above your head and opened his eyes to meet yours. “Don’t move.”

You shuddered, and he was already gone, burying his face in your cunt while his hands squeezed your tits harshly.

You humped his face, writhing in place, not daring to move your hands. Instead, you gripped the pillows and moaned loudly as he sucked your clit. It was enough to make you forget yourself, but quickly, it became clear that he was not looking to get you off. At least, not so soon.

He stopped to lick your slick off your folds, letting one hand trace down your soft stomach. “Do you want this?”

“Jimin—” Your voice broke when he pinched your nipple harshly. “Yes!”

His other hand found his way inside you as he glued his mouth to your clit again. “Tell me what you want.”

“You!”

His fingers padding the soft patch of your wall were maddening, and his handling of the situation wasn’t better. He kept asking you, over and over, what did you want, refraining his ministrations for a few seconds just to give you enough time before fucking your wet cunt yet again, and you couldn’t take it. You could only cry out his name and beg for him.

“Jimin—please—”

“What do you want me to do?”

You couldn’t form sentences, not when your orgasm was a millimeter away and so well out of your reach. “Fuck— Kiss— Love— Bite—”

He growled, “Again.”

You repeated yourself, feeling so hot you were starting to feel cold.

“Say it, little light,” he groaned before giving your clit a hard suck.

“Bite me!”

Something pierced the skin of your inner thigh, and your orgasm exploded into a million colors. You threw your head back, moaning deeply with every spasm around his fingers. You could feel him suckling and soon hear his groans against your hot skin, but you couldn’t think further than that because his fingers inside you never stopped.

“Good, you’re so good,” he cooed before moving away from your leg. The sight of him with your blood dripping down his chin was one of the most erotic things you had ever seen. “Not letting you come down,” he promised, gluing his lips to your stomach. “Gonna show you how good it feels to be mine.”

You didn’t doubt it but still had it shown to you when his fingers plunged deeper into your sweetness. His fingers hooked harder, his thumb pressing down your swollen clit, and you rolled your hips, moaning and begging.

His fingers rolled a nipple. “Are you ready, little light?”

You were feeling more and more light-headed by the minute but still wanted to chase another high. “Yes!”

“What do you need?” he asked, licking around your navel.

“Bite—”

He sank his teeth above your pelvis bone, right down the plump flesh of your belly, and sucked hard. You moaned loudly, and a second wave of heat spread through you from that same spot. Your weakness was rivaled by the sheer delight spreading through your veins, and as one thumb rolled your clit and the other over your nipple, you humped his hand until you found release.

Your pleasure was unleashed, sucking in his fingers as your eyes rolled back inside your head. You could feel your body shaking as though you were cold, but you were burning alive. You were soaring so high, you were in the clouds, but something was missing.

“Jimin,” you cried, finally daring to search for him with your hands, despite his command.

He didn’t mind; he guided your hands to his crimson lips and kissed them. You were delirious with his venom and begging for him. There was nothing else he could have ever wished for — he was on his way to an eternity with you.

“I’m here,” he promised, kissing your skin as he made his way to your mouth.

“I need you.” You shivered, pulling him closer, and he laid over you like a blanket.

“And I’ll always be here,” he pledged, looking at your pallor, blown pupils, and expanded jugular and carotid. Your heart was racing, compensating for the blood loss, spreading his venom and your bliss faster. “Always, my little light.”

You reached for him, crushing him harder over you as you trembled, then bit his shoulder when he entered you. You could feel him so much better, so much warmer and softer than before. Your nails pierced his skin, and he groaned, never stopping his love lullaby whispered into your ear, and you felt it. The desperation in both your moans as he fucked you on instinct, pressing his nose to the shallow of your neck as though he was waiting for the right moment.

Meanwhile, something was caving inside you. Something deep was crumbling to dust, waiting for something to come and fill in the gaps. You didn’t know what it could be, but you were left wanting, waning, needing to match his ardor with yours, but you weren’t certain your body obeyed you anymore.

“Jimin,” you whispered, realizing your vision had darkened. “I love you.”

You moaned with the familiar bee-sting in your neck and felt a third wave of bliss rattle you. You spasmed, pressed down to the mattress by his weight, and slipped away as you heard him chanting to your neck.

“I love you I love you I love you.”

*****

You woke up with a deep breath and the distinct sensation of a second heartbeat so very close to yours. The pungent smell of blood was all around you, and so was a warm, soothing figure holding you so closely that you could barely breathe.

“Jimin—” you huffed, tapping his shoulder, and he pulled away to look at you.

Tears stained his cheeks but halted as soon as his eyes locked with yours. For a moment, you held your breath. You could feel his heart thrumming and hear his blood singing a heavenly tune, and when his lips trembled, you already knew what he was going to say.

“My little light.”

[lithuvia]

A thing that struck me about the fight choreography in Monkey Man vs other action movies I've seen is just how much Kid bites people. An easy comparison is to John Wick, who, for all that there's literal hours of footage of Keanu Reeves killing people in highly creative fashion, never gets his teeth in anyone (afaik). And, I don't know, there's just something more visceral and desperate? To the Monkey Man fight scenes?

John Wick is so tired, and so efficient, and so brutal. And would kill someone a million different ways before he ever had to chew someone's nose off in self-defense. Kid needs to win, whereas John Wick is going to. It hits different.

[bestworstcase]

I can't remember whether you've answered this before, but. You postulate that everything Salem does in 8.9 after learning Yang's identity is a ruse to justify letting Yang and the others go free; that threatening Emerald is a deliberate attempt to provoke Hazel into attacking her so she has an excuse to turn her attention away from the prisoners.

My question is: Why does she need an excuse? Salem doesn't answer to anyone, and I can't see any particular risk in just saying "I've decided you're free to go, goodbye" and leaving the kids baffled. So what does she have to gain from... making herself seem more dangerous and unreasonable than she is? Not that I think she feels any hope she could convince the heroes she's reasonable -- as you've stated, Oz has done a very good job de-personing her for a very long time -- but I'm not sure why she would go to the effort of constructing an artificial scenario solely to make her enemies think she's more monstrous. What's her motivation here?

in the course of answering the question of her motivation i'm actually going to lay out my argumentation for reading the salem vs hazel fight this way, 'cause i don't think i've ever done so comprehensively before. (on tumblr, anyway.)

the foundational theory isn’t "salem did all this as a ruse to let her hostages go" but rather that this duel with hazel is a performative means to an end. and the reason i think that is the way the fight itself, along with the duel in the lost fable and the brief altercation with the kids preceding the fight, are choreographed.

to preface this discussion, rwby's fight choreography is subordinate to characterization. (this is less true in v1, wherein centerpiece fight scenes put a greater emphasis on style and spectacle, but from v2 onward there’s been an increasing focus on using combat to develop character.) team rwby vs ace-ops is a good example of this: ruby struggles in her matchup with harriet not only because she’s a grimm-fighting specialist whose main advantage (agility) is negated by her opponent being able to match her speed, but also because her heart isn’t in it; she pauses to plead with harriet to stop and think about what she’s doing and never really recovers her footing.

so my first presupposition is that salem isn’t an exception to this principle and her fight with hazel is not meant to just be a dramatic spectacle that Looks Cool but has nothing substantive to say about the characters involved. the writing and fight choreography are reliably cogent and i trust that the same amount of thought was put into this scene. i say this because i think "empty spectacle" is the only other way to parse what happens here.

now on to the most salient piece of context: we know that salem can fight well. because, as ruby puts it, we’ve seen what she’s capable of. the lamp showed us.

in the lost fable, we see:

salem and ozma fighting together, back-to-back, as they escaped her father’s fortress together.

salem stopping a nevermore the size of a commercial plane cold, and then crumpling it up like tissue paper.

salem matching ozma, a skilled, highly-experienced warrior who at the time had the combined might of the four maidens put together at his disposal, exactly blow-for-blow in their last duel.

nevermore crunch gives us a sense of not just the force but also the sheer precision of control that salem has over her magical power. the first fight tells us that even with no formal training, salem had the raw talent (and desperation) to keep up with ozma and hold her own against professional soldiers; the second fight tells us that by the time the ozlem kingdom fell, salem and ozma were equally matched in terms of skill.

the fanon idea that salem can't fight but won their duel by virtue of her invulnerability—whittling ozma down one lucky hit at a time—is a) contradicted by the swift and even back-and-forth volleys shown, and b) plainly at odds with the fanon nonsense that ozma spent most of the duel desperately and futilely on the defensive fighting to shield the girls from her onslaught.

from the tableaux in the second fight, it's hard to determine whether salem bothers with self-defense under normal circumstances (she doesn't, in the tableaux, but nor does ozma). but that in itself isn't a reason to presume a lack of skill in combat because salem has no incentive—other than pain avoidance, which given her extreme tolerance for pain isn't much—to fight defensively.

with all this in mind: we begin with her altercation with the kids.

salem enters the scene by exploding her way out of the whale. notice the kids knocked over like bowling pins on the left: oscar was standing approx. fifty-three feet away from the epicenter of the blast, measured based on salem being six feet tall. (<- with perspective taken into account. from wall to edge, the dock is 48ft wide)

emerald keeps her feet, perhaps because she knows better what to brace for; she's about the same distance away. in any case, salem's next move is to launch herself to the edge of the dock (again, a distance of 48ft—measured based on a different screenshot) and stretch to grab emerald in a fraction of a second.

ok. the women's world record 60m sprint is 6.92 seconds; this works out, rounded, to about 28.4ft/s. at that speed, you can cover forty-eight feet in about 1.7s; salem closes the distance in about half a second, which works out to 96ft/s. from a dead stop.

salem is could-probably-keep-up-with-ruby-rose fast.

next point. these two frames:

are a split second apart. the blast is aimed at ren and when jaune leaps in front of him, hits his shield right in the middle:

had jaune not gotten there in time, this would've hit ren squarely in the chest. in any case it hits with enough force to blast both boys off their feet and slams them into the flesh wall (roughly, eyeballing it based on several shots) 20-30 feet behind them hard enough to visibly strain jaune's aura. keep this timing in your mind for later. salem can fire these things off literally faster than you can blink.

the distance between her and ren at this point is approx. forty-five feet, again using the wide shot from earlier to measure. precise accuracy isn't impressive at this range necessarily but it's worth noting in relation to ren, who fires on her from the same distance, kneeling, with his fully automatics. every bullet goes wide:

& then salem whips around and noscopes him.

similarly, she sticky-hands yang in the face (catching her gauntlets only because yang throws up her arms to shield herself) while upside down with her eyes closed and paste for bones. she's a GOOD shot.

another detail to note here is the difference in salem's reaction to ren's attack versus yang's; ren fires on her, misses, she retaliates with her magical equivalent to his guns, but when yang punches bombs into her chest a second later, salem literally just stands there, even lowering her arm to let yang do it...

...and then after being blown up, rather than firing back with magic, snags yang and pulls her over to look intently at her:

we know that the reason salem grabbed emerald is with the intent to question her about what happened to the lamp, because salem concludes from the available facts that em must have stolen it. we also know that when ren shot at her, salem returned fire immediately, within a fraction of a second—this woman is inhumanly fast, and the time between these two frames:

is exactly equal to the time between these two:

what this tells is that salem did have time to blast yang in the gut with magic. through the whole sequence with yang punching her, salem is looking at yang's face, her gaze tracks down to follow her movement. she sees this coming and she's reacting to it, just making a deliberate choice not to retaliate.

and then she grabs yang.

this is the first weird thing salem does in this scene���every move she makes prior unambiguously follows from salem's belief that emerald stole the lamp and her desire to recapture oscar and take the relic back—and i don't think it's a coincidental that the weirdness begins with salem noticing yang...

...whom she saw like, two days ago rushing forward to comfort ruby after salem your mother-ed her to the ground. i've made this point before but prior to her arrival in atlas salem might at most have seen toddler pictures of these kids; ruby takes after her mother enough to be impossible to mistake for anyone but summer's daughter, but yang isn't even biologically related to summer. so salem wouldn't know her on sight. but this interaction a couple days ago would've given her enough circumstantial context to at least guess that this girl is summer's eldest.

so here, when salem sees yang and instantly flips from slinging bolts of magic around with enough force to break or at least visibly strain jaune's aura to sticky-handing yang to drag her over and grab her, the question is okay, why? why does that shift happen? what is it about this moment that alters salem's motivation? and because the situation hasn't changed whatsoever and there's no other reason for yang to have any significance to salem, the simplest and really only cogent explanation is her relation to summer rose.

onwards. salem isn't expecting oscar to zap her. you can tell because every time salem takes a hit on purpose in this scene, she either tracks her opponent's movements or visibly braces herself and neither of those things happens in the split second between oscar starting to fire and his blast hitting her; and also, she grunts in pain both when it hits her and when she doubles over afterward. given that oscar shouts at her first (so he has her attention) and what oscar and ozma say when they discuss the state of the merge in 7.13 and earlier in 8.9, i think it's pretty likely that salem didn't realize oscar could tap into ozma's magic and thus he caught her off guard.

also i'm not sure oscar realized he could do that until he did it. look at this boy. he's so busy going "wait what?" at himself that he doesn't even notice salem yeeting yang at him until a split second before yang hits him ->

that, or oscar's use of magic jostled oz to the front and neither of them were expecting that to happen.

at this point salem stops fucking around and pins everyone to the floor. and again this is something i want to emphasize because it is effortless for her. when she does this to hazel in 6.4 she makes a gesture with her hands, but here she just decides it's going to happen and it does. (which tells us that the gesturing in 6.4 is for show, just like flipping the table and raising her voice. she's exaggerating her irritation into this over-the-top anger for the sake of intimidating everyone else in the room. it's performative.)

anyway, she hangs emerald on the wall, conjures a ball of magic, and:

SALEM: What did you do with the lamp? EMERALD: ...N-nothing! [Salem leans in to hold the magic close to her face.] SALEM: It's missing. Where is it? EMERALD: I didn't do anything with it! SALEM: Where—[she lowers her hand, turning away]–is it?

ok. salem can tell when people lie. she's also grimm—she can probably sense or perceive emotion the way all other grimm do.

emerald isn't lying to her and salem knows she's telling the truth. the pseudo-repetition of the questions obfuscates this a little, because they're almost but not quite the same, but salem believes both of the truthful answers emerald gives her.

her initial assumption is that emerald stole the lamp and must have done something to hide it ("what did you do with it?"). emerald is startled, confused, and answers "nothing." salem explains why she's asking ("it's missing") and then asks if emerald knows where it is or who took it ("where is it?") because her next guess is that emerald conspired with somebody else who stole the lamp while emerald snuck oscar out.

when the lamp went missing, there were eight people on the whale: salem herself, hazel, emerald, neopolitan, oscar, yang, and these other two children whose names salem probably doesn't know. right before the seers sounded the alarm about intruders, salem encountered emerald and someone she thought was hazel in the corridor. at that point in time, salem expected hazel to still be interrogating oscar, as she's mildly surprised to see him: "ah, hazel. have you gotten what we need yet?"—and 'hazel' behaved oddly enough that salem was side-eyeing him before the alarm distracted her. her reaction to emerald a few minutes later ("you really have been honing that semblance of yours") confirms that she's figured out that 'hazel' was really oscar.

hazel assumes there is an alarm that will go off if they move the lamp, but he's wrong: neo swipes it seconds after they leave the chamber, and salem doesn't know anything is wrong until a) the seers alert her to the presence of intruders, several minutes layer, and b) she goes to personally secure the lamp and finds it already missing.

so salem does not know exactly when the lamp was taken, only that it happened before the seers sounded the alarm. that her suspicion falls first on emerald suggests that salem has—for whatever reason—already considered and ruled out the possibility that the intruders are the thieves (most likely, because the seer alarm calls convey more information than just "stranger danger!" and salem knows the intruders didn't get that far into the whale before being caught). plus by the time she's questioning emerald, salem has a) terrified emerald well past being able to maintain her semblance, which requires active focus, and b) visually confirmed that none of the intruders nor oscar are carrying the lamp with them.

ruling out emerald as the thief therefore leaves her with just two suspects: neopolitan, or hazel. now, salem does not have any reason to trust another of cinder's little pet illusionists, so on the face of it neo might seem to be the obvious suspect.

BUT.

salem expected hazel to be in oscar's cell at the time she unwittingly caught emerald in the act of helping oscar escape. and she knows that hazel is attached to emerald—that's why she punishes him for lying to her in 6.4 by forcing emerald to answer the question hazel tried to dodge, she knows hazel lied to protect emerald.

and emerald could not have freed oscar from his cell without hazel knowing about it.

based on the facts of the situation as salem understands them at the point when she turns away from emerald to ask, rhetorically, where the lamp is, there are only two possible explanations:

hazel stole the lamp while emerald helped oscar escape.

neo stole the lamp while emerald tried to sneak oscar out, either with hazel's assistance or while hazel was somewhere other than where salem expected him to be, doing something he shouldn't.

there is no way—no way—that salem does not realize, at this juncture, that hazel has most likely betrayed her. this woman is a clever strategist who has been running circles around ozpin and his inner circle since the show began and, while she lacks the charisma and social dexterity to be a truly masterful manipulator, she understands human nature and her manipulative tactics are always very shrewd. unless you're willing to assume that the writers just idiot balled her for the sake of the plot—which i'm not; rwby is too well-written—salem's assumption now is that hazel stole the lamp.

(which, she's wrong, but the underlying reasoning in how she handles the situation on the docks up to this point is an application of occam's razor; she begins with the simplest explanation and works upward in complexity from there, so she'd land on hazel stealing the lamp before she got to "neo stole the lamp, emerald freed oscar, hazel was doing something else.")

the shift in her tone as she turns away from emerald and the things she then says to oscar evince this also: her second "where is it?" is rhetorical. she knows that either hazel or neo has it, and hazel is the more likely suspect. since neither of them are here at the moment, but neither of them can leave the whale except through the dock, the question is no longer urgent. she has the situation fully under control. all she needs to do is wait.

so her attention shifts to oscar or ozma. (whether oz is fronting or salem thinks he’s fronting because oscar used ozma's magic is somewhat unclear, but given that she correctly identifies them in both 8.4 and 8.6 i'm inclined to think she’s right this time too, and oz got pulled forward by oscar’s use of his magic)

SALEM: Look how you've diminished. How you've lessened yourself—and for what? These children? This ruined world...? Why—do—you—keep—coming—back? YANG: Why do you?! [Salem glances at her, startled.] YANG: All of this endless death, just because something bad happened to you once upon a time? Nobody gets a fairytale ending! Everything I've lost—every person I've lost!—is because of you! SALEM: And who is it I've taken from you, girl? YANG: Summer Rose. My mom. SALEM: Hm. [amused] Her again?

as i said, salem already has reasonable confidence that this girl is summer rose's eldest daughter, but if she had any doubt or uncertainty prior she now knows for sure. "and who is it i've taken from you, girl?" is salem both engaging with what yang said to her and also fishing for a confirmation that she is who salem thinks she is, which yang obligingly gives to her.

so at this juncture salem now has three goals:

don't severely hurt or kill summer's daughter.

determine who stole the lamp and get it back.

recapture oz/oscar.

with the third being a means to the end of finding out how to access the lamp. this makes #3 the lowest priority, because there are at least six people who know the "password" (ozma, oscar, ruby, yang, and their two teammates) and if salem loses oz/oscar now she can still try to capture one of the other children later.

of the first two, which is more important doesn't really matter yet, because right now they aren't in opposition. she can accomplish the first by not doing anything to harm yang and the second by staying put until the thief—either neo or hazel—tries to get past her.

of course, then hazel IMMEDIATELY shows up. he is, remember, salem's primary suspect at this point and she knows that he, at a minimum, wasn't where she thought he was when emerald snuck oscar out of his cell. even if hazel doesn't have the lamp, salem has to consider him a possible traitor until proven otherwise because there is also this unspoken question of how emerald got oscar out. either hazel was incompetent or he was an accomplice.

salem wants to know which it is.

he walks onto the docks, greets her. salem glances over at him and sees that he does not have the lamp, so either he stashed it somewhere on the whale with the intent to sneak it out later or he isn't the thief. the question of how emerald got oscar past him remains. there is a possibility that hazel wasn't involved in the jailbreak or the theft—he's been in and out of that cell all day—and if salem makes this accusation and she's wrong, she risks losing his loyalty. right. like hazel is already terrified of her and she knows ozma has been feeding him bullshit all day about how she's bent on destroying the world, she walked in on that.

if she takes an aggressive posture here on the basis of an incorrect suspicion that's going to play right into ozma's hands by making her look unreasonable, untrustworthy, dangerous. even if he remains loyal in the moment, he'll have all of this in the back of his mind and he might turn against her at a more crucial juncture in the future.

salem is very risk-averse. she's not going to do that. so now she has a fourth goal: test hazel in a way that will strengthen his commitment to her if he remains loyal, or else force him to definitively prove himself a traitor.

when salem meets emerald and 'hazel' in the corridor earlier in this episode she says "ah, hazel. have you gotten what we need yet?" and then, after the seer alarm, "it seems we have guests [...] find them!"

when hazel arrives at the docks, salem says "ah, hazel. i found our guests." the intonation of "ah, hazel" is the same but exaggerated, and salem's taking "we have guests: find them" and flipping it around; "i found our guests." now, she's aware that the 'hazel' she spoke to in the corridor a few minutes ago was really oscar, so hazel doesn't have context for why this is funny. but she's making a sarcastic little joke at his expense about how she doesn't trust him now.

"ah, hazel" is how she greeted the false 'hazel' whom she did trust and told to find their "guests." she suspects that the real hazel was an accomplice to this scheme so she parodies that greeting and then makes a sardonic jab at him as if the false 'hazel' in the corridor were real and just failed so abysmally at finding the intruders that salem had to do it herself. and then she specifically draws his attention to emerald and goes "this one was helping them."

and this is the test, right.

before she asks emerald "what did you do with the lamp?" salem conjures up a ball of magic and holds it up where emerald can see. very unsubtle threat. she does the exact same thing here.

"this one was helping them," she says, magic crackling in her hand where hazel can see it. there is, again, a very unsubtle threat that she'll hurt emerald. and then she pauses for a solid three seconds, which doesn't sound like a lot but it's the similar in length to her other dramatic pauses like "find the girl that did this to cinder... and bring her to me" (~3.5s) and "before you go, inform tyrian... that i wish to have a word with him" (~2s)

in 6.4, salem asks hazel to give her a specific piece of information about cinder, and he tries to evade by saying "i take full responsibility," so she flips the table, pins him to the ground, and intimidates emerald into telling her instead, because she knows hazel is lying to shield emerald from the imaginary threat of salem's wrathful retribution.

in this scene, salem has emerald pinned to the wall and makes an implicit but extremely clear threat to hurt emerald because, she tells hazel pointedly, this one was helping the intruders sneak oscar, the boy hazel was supposed to be interrogating at the time, off the whale: SIGNIFICANT LOOK. DRAMATIC PAUSE.

this is the test. this is the test. the last time salem put hazel into a situation where he anticipated a punishment falling on emerald's head, he lied to try to redirect that punishment onto himself. if he tries to do the same thing now, he's either going to implicate himself as an accomplice, attack her, or exonerate himself by lying (because salem will know that he's lying if he falsely claims to have been in on it a la "i take full responsibility").

she's not making any accusations but she is giving him the chance to come clean. the last time this happened and he lied to her, she bullied emerald to punish him. the implicit promise she's making this time is that if he was also "helping them" and he tells her the truth now, she won't hurt emerald. if he gives her what she wants, she'll reward him with what he wants.

as. usual. she does not communicate this clearly enough for it to be effective (⭐️ SHE TRIED) and hazel doesn't give her anything to work with, just stands there silently, so... she escalates. "take the boy back to his chamber; i have work to do with this one."

if hazel's silence is because he's upset but still remains loyal, he'll obey and she'll know that she has a much firmer hold on him than she thought. if... he was involved, then his silence is because he's trying to figure out a way to salvage this situation. she still does not have absolute certainty. so she provokes him by raising the stakes and turning her back on him.

um, another noteworthy detail that i think supports reading "i have work to do with this one" as a performative threat salem's making to force hazel to make his loyalties clear:

salem touches emerald's face with this very ominous-looking magic crackling around her hands and nothing happens. the specific threat she's been making in this scene of "answer me or i'll burn your face with this nasty dark magic" is quite literally bluffing. it doesn't hurt emerald upon contact with her skin. emerald just experiences the untold horrors of salem grabbing her face.

HOWEVER. escalating in this manner a) takes the risk of hazel choosing to betray her for emerald’s sake right now even if he wasn’t an accomplice before, and b) insures that if hazel is already a traitor, there will be a violent altercation.

the former is a much less dangerous risk than alienating hazel if he's truly loyal by making open accusations (an immediate betrayal that she provoked and is prepared to handle vs a possible betrayal an unknown amount of time in the future which might catch her with her guard down). the latter is a problem, because there are children glued to the floor who will be in the crossfires of any fight, and one of those children is her general's eldest.

and this is where that second goal of "don't severely harm or kill summer's daughter" comes into play and comes into conflict with salem's need to recapture oscar & oz and recover the stolen relic. it's at this point salem has to make a decision about what to prioritize, and her choice is to—if hazel does what she expects him to do and attacks her—let the children go while she "fights" hazel, then pry information out of hazel once they're gone. so she reveals that her priorities are:

summer's daughter.

the lamp.

hazel's loyalty.

the lamp's "password."

also notice that salem does keep her implicit promise not to harm emerald if hazel gives her what she wants—she releases emerald, too, after hazel punches her. she's thinking ahead to what she'll do once the children are gone and she has hazel alone on the docks. by letting emerald and the rest of the children escape, she removes his motivation for betraying her: he no longer has anyone around whom he could possibly sacrifice himself to protect from salem, because all of them have made it to safety. now salem can pin him to the wall and start asking questions.

either hazel took the lamp and stashed it somewhere on the whale once he realized she'd caught the children, or neopolitan stole it and—if she's still aboard—will need to pass the docks sooner or later. so salem stays put, with hazel, until she has the lamp in hand again or knows where hazel hid it. summer's daughter is safe, hazel has no one to sacrifice himself for (and she has some leverage to counter ozma's lies; letting the children go is her proof that she isn't unreasonable), and salem has everything she needs to get the lamp back. she might have to capture someone again in the future to extract the lamp's password, but there's a chance hazel learnt it from oscar before the jailbreak and theft.

worst case scenario, neo stole it and escaped before salem intercepted the jailbreak on the docks, but at least by questioning hazel she'll be able to determine whether that's the case.

a partial victory is preferable to a loss, and knowing what to sacrifice in pursuit of one's priorities is important. this is salem's basic strategic philosophy and it shows through in her actions throughout this scene; she's making choices about what matters to her most and what she can afford to let go, always with the intent to achieve as many of her goals as possible, in descending order of importance.

with salem it's important to keep in mind that she thinks like this. strategic acumen is her greatest strength and being able to evaluate all of one's objectives in terms of priority, feasibility, and tactical means at once is a critical strategic skill. strategy is about the long term, big picture thinking, where salem excels. so she almost never does anything for just one reason; every decision she makes is a balancing act taking into account all of her important short- and long-term goals.

speaking of which, i've so far limited this discussion to her immediate objectives in this scene, but it's worth remembering that salem has long-term plans that she is working toward and her actions and choices in any given scene are mediated by the big picture; her inner conflict regarding cinder aside, salem is never going to do anything that achieves a short-term goal by harming her strategic ends (and her erratic behavior toward cinder arises from a conflict between her strategic ends and her increasing reluctance to treat cinder like a pawn, i.e. her big-picture wants and needs can no longer be easily reconciled.)

it's much harder to discern salem's long-term objectives because we don't really know what her plan is, except in the broadest strokes. but we can hazard a few guesses:

salem is very circumspect about what happened to summer rose; it may be necessary for her plans to preserve the heroically-martyred idea of summer rose—the most obvious reason would be that "summer was the best, and even she failed" is a very exploitable weakness in her opponents' morale.

if salem intends to confront the brothers face-to-face, using the final judgment as bait, and she fails, the only thing she can do that might prevent the gods from annihilating remnant is ensuring that everyone is rallied against her. forcing the truth of her existence into the open while performing to "monstrous evil witch bent on destruction of all things" expectations is the surest way to do that.

likewise, winnowing her own inner circle such that she is truly and completely alone by the time she has all four relics in hand may be part of the plan.

also worth taking into consideration are the ways salem's trauma circumscribes her decision-making. she is:

terrified of rejection.

terrified to care or admit to caring because the divine mandate is a justification and a threat of genocide strictly to punish her, and she knows it.

convinced that no one will ever truly care about her, hear her, or want to help her without getting something in return.

resigned to being seen as a monster no matter what she does, solely on the basis of her inhuman appearance.

all of these things predispose her to retreat behind her emotional walls and just reflect the expectations of others back to them. she's been viciously, brutally punished every single time she's tried to be authentic and vulnerable with others and it hurts less to shut down and be what she's "supposed" to be than to try and be cut down over and over again. this is a defensive learned response and it informs both her strategic planning and her tactical decisions; even in situations where breaking expectations and being emotionally honest might benefit her if people were to give her a chance, she's not going to do it unless she is really, really certain that she won't be punished for trying again.

now, to wrap this up, let's go over the fight with hazel.

i actually debate with myself a lot as to whether salem did or didn't anticipate hazel punching her, because she a) doesn't brace and b) cries out when his fist makes contact with her face, but i am certain that by this juncture salem did expect and was counting on him to do SOMETHING to stop her. the sequence of events is this:

salem approaches emerald while telling hazel, "take the boy back to his chamber; i have work to do with this one." after a brief pause, hazel answers "yes. of course," and begins to walk over to oscar. at this point, salem puts both of her hands on emerald's face and leans in to emphasize the threat, but still doesn't hurt her.

keep in mind that there is a significant distance between salem and oscar. relative to her position when she entered the scene, salem has moved (roughly, eyeballing) about thirty feet to the left and knocked oscar about the same distance from where he fell when she burst through the side of the whale. so they're still about fifty feet apart.

an able-bodied human walks about 4.2ft/s at a normal pace on average; hazel is quite tall—i believe word of god is eight feet, but he is NOT two feet taller than salem, the top of her head is level with his shoulder line, which if salem is six feet tall exactly would make him about 7'2"—which gives him a much longer than average stride, so we'll presume his normal walking pace is about 4.5ft/s.

when salem walks from emerald over to oscar, it takes her about twelve seconds. if we assume that her pace is the average 4.2ft/s, that would make this distance just about exactly fifty feet. 50ft 5in, to be precise. the consistency here between the visible spatial distance and the temporal distance suggests close attention to detail on the part of the creative team.

(salem returns from oscar to emerald, off screen, in about two seconds, but this is not problematic given her super-fast gliding pace—we can assume that salem slingshot herself across most of the distance and then walked the last couple steps.)

so at a normal pace of 4.5ft/s, it should take hazel about eleven seconds to walk from salem's side to where oscar is... and in fact it takes him exactly that: he begins to walk at 14:35 and stops in front of oscar at 14:46. again, the consistency is telling—particularly because there is no dialogue at all in this span, so how long it took wasn't dictated by the length of a spoken line.

hazel picks oscar up, murmurs "no more gretchens, boy," into his ear, pushes the long memory into his hands, and then drops him again. this takes another ten seconds. hazel turns away from oscar and begins to walk back toward salem at 14:56, punching her at 15:04, so his return is faster but within the range of a brisk walking pace (eight seconds, fifty feet, approx. 6.3ft/s).

the reason i'm belaboring this point is that salem says "i have work to do with this one," and then... stands there without doing anything except holding emerald's face menacingly for a genuinely awkward amount of time. thirty-one seconds, counting the beat before hazel began to move. it's not even clear that salem said anything to emerald—when hazel turns away from oscar and the camera cuts back to emerald and salem, em blurts out "i really don't know!" but whether this is in response to another question salem asked off-screen or just responding to what she assumes salem wants from her is ambiguous.

compare the way salem questioned emerald earlier in this scene: she asked two questions, one after the other, confirming that emerald didn't take or hide the lamp and doesn't know where it is. as soon as it became clear to her that she wouldn't get useful information from emerald—because em truly did not know anything—salem dropped it and moved on to Plan B. she doesn't LIKE emerald and she's ANGRY that em tricked her and helped oscar escape, but what salem CARES about is finding out what happened to the lamp. she's not going to waste her time trying to get blood from a stone.

and compare the way salem conducts herself when she interrogates oscar in 8.4. again, her questioning is guided by practicality, but the more salient point of comparison for this discussion is what salem does when she shifts gears to punishment and torture. namely, she just tortures him. no hesitating, no warnings, no threats, no grandstanding, she just turns around and does it. practical, again.

if what salem intended to do at this point in the scene was torture emerald, either to punish her or for information, she would do so.

instead, salem just...clutches emerald's face. evilly.

for thirty-one seconds.

now, i will remind you that salem has excellent spatial awareness; she sticky-hands yang from at least ten or fifteen feet away while upside-down with her eyes closed. hazel's footsteps are clearly audible. when hazel enters, salem hears him speak and answers him across this fifty-foot span. oscar cries out when hazel picks him up and grunts in pain when hazel drops him, which also makes a quite loud thud. hazel's footsteps would also be audible to her when he returned, although they aren't to the audience.

so she'd be able to sense hazel approaching her again, and if she paid attention—which she must have, because salem's just spent half a minute doing the bare minimum to sell that she's toootally going to start torturing emerald, any second now, and the only reason for her to do that is if this is about intimidating or provoking hazel—then she would have at least heard him dropping oscar, so she knows he isn't "taking the boy back to his chamber" as ordered.

ok.

when the focus shifts back to them, salem's got emerald like this:

this shot is at 15:01.167. hazel will punch her at 15:04 exactly, which at his brisk pace of 6.3ft/s means he's about eighteen feet away. around 15:02.750, when hazel is less than eight feet away from her, salem begins to pull back, lifting her arm as if preparing to strike:

she holds this pose without moving for almost a whole second. remember just how fast salem can be. her release when she fires back at ren, from the moment she begins her 180° spin to the moment the opalescent bolt leaves her hand, is sixteen frames. from the appearance of the black/violet magic bubbles to the release of the opalescent bolt is one frame. ONE.

when she reaches this position, hazel is quite literally right next to her. he cannot be more than three or four feet away, and we can see in both the initial shot and the replay from the opposite angle that he comes at salem directly from the side, not from behind her.

the point is that salem can see him. unless you have vision problems impacting your peripheral sight, even if you're looking straight ahead, as salem is here, you can visually detect motion directly to the left or right within a close radius. and indeed:

salem's gaze flicks to the side before his fist makes contact, and the wider shot from behind shows just how close he is to her before throwing the punch.

and the last detail i want to note regarding the punch is that salem lets go of emerald when hazel hits her, which is something that she does NOT do when yang blows her up:

if salem can remain standing and keep her death grip on this girl's arm while her ENTIRE TORSO IS EXPLODED WITH BOMBS, it... does not matter how strong hazel is or to what degree salem may have been caught off-guard. she had at least a split second recognition before his fist hit her face; that alone is enough to reflexively clamp down on emerald's jaw if she didn't want to let go.

so whether or not salem anticipated that hazel would punch her in the face specifically—and it doesn't seem like she did, given that she yelps—she must have had at least a vague awareness of his presence/approach (because he marched right up to her), and she made the choice to just ragdoll with the hit. the simplest explanation is that once she heard him drop oscar and start power-walking back toward her, salem knew he was going to try something to save emerald and committed to the bit.

she also isn't actually ragdolling; she lets the force of hazel's punch throw her off her feet, but then instead of falling she soars away in this high arc, flips herself around in midair, drops down in a perfectly-controlled landing at the far end of the dock, and rises again:

ok? ok. this sequence, from the end of the slo-mo reaction shot to when salem reaches altitude, runs 15:08 to 15:11—three seconds.

and then she just, erm...hangs out there, not doing anything, until hazel finishes cramming dust into his body and turning his back on salem to give his heartfelt last goodbye to emerald and everything, and faces salem again at 15:41. at which point she says "so, you've decided against vengeance for your sister, after all this time?"

thirty. seconds.

during which the ONLY ACTION salem takes is this... this:

<- make a particular note of how jaune reacts. the tactics guy. while the other kids gasp in shock/relief, jaune is like "wait what?" as he pushes himself up to look at salem—he's confused, because he knows intuitively that Something Weird just happened.

why did she do that?

she didn't need to. it wasn't an accident. salem manifested these sigils with a mere thought, and later in this same scene we'll see her do that again right after hazel smashes her head like an egg. summoning these things also clearly doesn't inhibit any of her other powers, so this is effortless for her and costs her nothing to maintain.

either happened by narrative fiat, because the kids had to escape and the writers just couldn't be bothered to figure out how. the... problem with this explanation, aside from the obvious that rwby is a well-written story that doesn't pull this sort of bullshit, is that the prelude to the big fight makes a HUGE POINT of,

this! oscar is already free and has long memory. if the intention is for the kids to escape while hazel keeps salem distracted, you don't need a narrative contrivance like this; you just slip in a shot or two of oscar snapping these grimm hands or disarming the sigils with his own magic to release his friends instead.

orrr... salem let them go on purpose.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

wheeze. ok. we're almost done.

remember how salem can go from empty fist to black magic bubble to releasing an opalescent blast in just three frames?

this first shot is at 15:49. the second is at 15:51. in between, salem just kind of sways side-to-side and then waves her arms around for forty-five frames. even if we count only from her conjuring of the Big Bubble at 15:50, it's twenty-two frames—longer than it took her to snap around and fire off a blast that hit her target dead-on and slammed two teenage boys into a wall some 20-30 feet back.

woman's telegraphing harder than a dark souls boss here.

and speaking of aiming...

these are the three bolts salem fires in the wide shot. top row on the left is her first shot in the instant before hazel begins to run up the slope—i've marked the trajectory and the eventual point of impact in green to make it easier to see that this would not have hit him even if he hadn't moved. top row on the right is the real impact, with hazel now running. on the bottom row are her next two shots. one strikes the edge of the dock nowhere even close to him, the other hits the ground about 8-9 feet in front of him (measuring based on hazel being 7'2" tall). and in the next shot:

it's not that she never hits him. hazel is quite a bit farther away from her than ren was and he's also running at a dead sprint while dodging blasts. tricky target. it wouldn't be strange at all if she missed.

but look at where she is aiming.

top row: both bolts strike the ground 1-2ft directly ahead of him—in the shot on the left, he's veering closer to the wall to avoid stepping on the point of impact. bottom left: this is a second bolt aimed just a little bit forward and 1-2ft out from the wall relative to the top right; these two bolts strike eight frames apart and hazel lunges sideways toward the dock's edge as the second one comes into frame, so when salem fired the second one, hazel was still where he is in the top right. and (the clincher) bottom right: this bolt strikes six frames after the one preceding, 1-2ft directly in front of him, and hazel swerves toward the wall to avoid stepping on the point of impact; notice the correction from #3 to #4 when hazel swerved more toward the ledge than salem anticipated.

not a single one of these bolts is actually aimed at hazel. salem is aiming to hit the ground directly in front of hazel, close enough to convince him that she means to hit him but also low enough that if she misjudges his speed she's going to strike his ankles... and when one blast nearly hits him in the head or chest because he jumped further sideways than salem guessed he would, she instantly corrects her aim to ankle-height again.

she is herding him.

up the docks, closer to her, away from the children, all while taking care NOT to hit him without being obvious about it.

this is the same kind of behavior we see from her in 6.4, where she's at worst a little vexed but flips a table and shouts and throws him to the ground as if she's in a terrible fury—and then a minute later hazel tells her something that genuinely infuriates her and we see her freeze while the windows start to crack, before she sends them all out of the room and struggles to press this rage back down.

because there is a huge difference between the loud, explosive "anger" salem performs to intimidate her associates and her real anger, which she tries very hard to contain.

in a similar vein, we get this fleeting glimpse of salem's actual skill in combat when she spins around and blasts the boys into a wall in the time it takes to blink... and then she sees yang, and the key changes. instantly. for the rest of the scene.

onward. hazel vaults over salem's final bolt and launches three fireballs at her. as these spiral up toward her, salem threads herself between them like they're not even there—it's really fast, the whole sequence from when the fireballs form in front of his fist to when she slings past the third one is forty frames and if you count from when the first fireball enters the frame, her evasive maneuver is over within twelve frames. as she continues past the last fireball, salem swings her arms to finish her movement, as if she's going to lash forward and fire off a riposte:

but then instead, she re-centers, pauses, and does... this:

which i'm sure looks very impressive and terrifying for everyone on the ground, but she is... literally just tossing magic around in random directions. this is not an attack. this is a light show. a firework. her big swarm of magic bubbles spits out of of the opalescent bolts and only one hits anywhere close to hazel. she is just fucking around.

from here, hazel sprints to the edge of the dock and launches himself into the air above her, where he dust-conjures a biiiiig spiky boulder to smash her with... and, uh. three things. first:

this shot occurs in slo-mo to really underscore what happens here. note that salem is looking up at him and has a firing bubble ready to go. hazel is approx. twenty-eight feet directly in front of her (measured in salems); a few minutes ago we've seen her be dead accurate at just a bit more than half again that distance, and we know a blast from her has plenty enough force to knock hazel out of the sky. from the beginning to end of this shot her head moves as she tracks his motion.

she has a clear shot lined up here. she chooses not to take it. then:

hazel conjures The Boulder, and we get this shot of salem's reaction—from waiting indifferently to see what he'll do to wry amusement. and then she physically braces herself to take the hit:

after which point salem just Lies There letting him pummel her for a few seconds before evidently deciding that she's done enough fucking around for those children she let out of gay baby jail about sixty seconds ago to have gotten away so she'll just flick her fingers (while her skull is caved in and her brains are splashed all over the floor, mind you) to pull some more grabby hands out of the air and wrap this one up except—

—NO WHOOPS THEY'RE ALL STILL HERE. lol.

like the fight is over, when the camera cuts back to the kids. salem has hazel completely immobilized. jaune is at the other end of the docks, shouting for everyone to hurry. "she'll just come after us," oscar says, but if salem cared to recapture any of them she would've left hazel restrained and dropped down off the dock to scoop them up as they hit the ground.

she's visibly irritated after regrowing her face, yes. but we have seen over and over—there are multiple examples in this scene alone—that salem can and will set irritation aside to focus on what doing what is necessary to advance her practical goals. she's poisonous with emerald but asks her two questions and then turns away as soon as she's confirmed that emerald doesn't know anything. she takes a deep breath and shelves her fury at ozma to listen calmly while yang yells at her. salem just isn't a character ruled by her anger.

so the fact that she a) continues to focus all of her attention on hazel after restraining him, and b) actually hurls him out of the restraints, in the opposite direction from her escaping prisoners, and turns away from them to just bash hazel's face repeatedly into the floor, suggests to me that her annoyance is perhaps more because these children are STILL FUCKING HERE and she needs them to be gone before she can start to properly wring the truth out of hazel.

she pays zero attention to the children until she hears long memory activate, which seems to startle her; after that she straightens up and stares him down for about four seconds.

they're about ninety feet apart here. salem covers a just over half that distance in two seconds... meaning she is gliding at what is for her a downright leisurely 24.5ft/s. that's a little bit more than a QUARTER of her top speed which is, in case you've forgotten whilst reading this very long post, 96ft/s. or 65mph.

(and here i will remind you that the walking speed distance math earlier checks out perfectly with the measurable spatial distance between emerald and oscar. this scene was choreographed and animated with very close attention to time and distance and i think that's because the speed at which salem does certain things at different points is doing a lot of narrative work. it's seldom necessary to be this precise but in this scene it matters.)

the point is that while salem does slingshot herself at oscar pretty fast here, relative to how much faster she CAN go, salem isn't trying especially hard to Get Him. this is like a brisk jog for her.

now granted, if hazel hadn't scraped up the wherewithal to, i assume, yeet himself after salem with all the dust cooking his body from the inside out, oscar would have been toast whether salem zipped along at a normal human sprinting pace or clotheslined him at car-on-a-highway speeds. but it does speak to the intensity of salem's interest in getting oscar in this moment versus when she went for emerald at the top of the scene.

salem had, by this point, already given up recapturing oz/oscar as a loss, accepted sacrificing the opportunity to do that as a price she was willing to pay for the sake of 1. getting summer's daughter safely off the whale and 2. after clarifying hazel's loyalties, removing the children from the equation so she can squeeze him for information about what happened to the lamp. i think the possibility that oz/oscar might have shared the "password" with hazel when hazel decided to help them escape would've at least crossed her mind as soon as she narrowed her list of suspects down to hazel and neo, too.

there's also the factor that with hazel now compromised, the only person around to interrogate oz/oscar is salem herself, and because that would involve being in the same room with and talking to ozma for an indeterminate amount of time, i don't think salem's all that keen anymore.

thennnn hazel sets her on fire and she screams and thrashes because she's having traumatic flashbacks to the moonfall and then oz blows her and her whale the fuck up.

thank you for coming to my tedtalk.

[metalandmagi]

This Valentine's Day, are you looking for a show with:

Absolutely zero romance?

A focus on family drama and healing?

Support for women's wrongs?

A Native American protagonist who isn't afraid to fuck people up and get her fists bloody in the name of revenge?

That same Native American protagonist who is also Deaf and has a prosthetic leg?

The most emotional, theme appropriate ending I've seen in a show in a long time?

Great fight choreography that doesn't rely on shaky cam?

A villain who is sympathetic but ultimately still sucks without needing to be redeemed?

Complex female friendships and generational trauma?

Then please watch Echo. I don't care if you hate Marvel stuff. I don't care where you watch it if you don't want to support the mouse. But holy shit it was so good and literally nobody talked about it. Echo and Ms. Marvel have been the 2 best Marvel shows since WandaVision, and funny how the ones with protagonists who are women of color didn't get any attention at all. I can't get over how good Echo was. It's a hidden gem in the ever growing pile of garbage Marvel puts out, just like Andor was for Star Wars.

[oakthefrog]

More EPIC staging ideas except I have no full song/verse ideas so have miscellaneous ones

>I love how each character has their own motif and instrument and how it shows their personality. To add to that in a stage production, each character has their own light colours/motifs or staging quirks (eg. Athena = blue flashing lights to the beat of the quick thought piano, Zeus = lightning like in the Ithaca Saga livestream, Telemachus having blue lighting to contrast with the suitors' red lights).

>Screen on the floor. As the stage floor even. Big ass screen (exclusively for Charybdis idc /silly). Screen on the back wall too, (think Ride The Cyclone) for things like the winions or changing scenery fast, without having to move too many props.

>Inspired by this. Floating. Island. For. Aeolus. one that floats around so they can sit on their little cloud and float around the clouds like in Gigi's KYFC animatic. Poseidon can use it in Ruthlessness and Ody can use it in 600 Strike. FLOATING. ISLAND.

>Actual boat. Inspired by this and this. ACTUAL BOAT PLEASE- (even if it's Ody having a little raft for the vengeance saga)

>Dancers can mimic waves ig? (the fact I'm decent at dance and choreography irl and CANNOT think of anything dance related other than "Hermes and Aeolus could have roller skates so the fast ppl go vroom vroom" (a take i've heard maybe 3-4 time before because it IS AWESOME) kills me-)

>Please. References to Odysseus's dead crewmates in The Underworld. Please. 2 ensemble members with matching armour that weren't in the crew for my boys Patroclus and Achilles, etc. LITTERALLY ANYTHING. A CRUMB.

>If the theory/HC that Ares helps Ody in 600 Strike and Odysseus are true or want to be implied further, then we can have Ares lurking in the bg of those scenes. (Hermes, Aeolus, any other gods/higher beings that could watch the show go down could be watching too, hell for "Odysseus" they could have them all watching on the little cloud and that can be in view for eagle-eyed viewers or in limited theatres.)

>Before the show starts/intermission/after it ends if there ever is a cut song saga they can play those songs while people move around, or if they rerecord the soundtrack for the stage release they can play the OG versions/demos of them for the og-fans (I stand by the fact that while they should try to get as many of the current actors on board with a stage production as possible, I assume not everyone can or will want to do that, so other castings could have to happen or songs could be changed (eg, There Are Other Ways: "12 long years", or other songs' lines could be changed for extra easter eggs/to fit in better with stage adaptations))

>Penelope's shroud could be seen in "The Challenge" and could have a few possible designs. So one night in one place it could be one referencing the Illiad, another time it could be the Olypians fighting Titans, or it could be a reference to how Odysseus's mother passed and she's weaving a funeral shroud for her. (Or slightly darker, could be implied it's for Penelope as that's how much she misses her husband)

>REUSE PROPS. During the cyclops saga the cave can be represented by an arch of stone that goes over the whole stage, think like the moving stairs in Hamilton, it's split into two halfs to hide it backstage easier and later in the "haha don't [off urself] i'd miss you" part of Love In Paradise, Ody could stand on one of those arches, as like a "all my regrets started with this set piece so i'll fcking throw myself off of it, just you watch-" /silly

...it's almost 11pm on a school night imma go now bye bye chat. (i'll draw up ideas for these at some point, if i have time between school and events :D)

[llannasvsp]

I recently saw a poll on Instagram that was as follows:

"Who should have really been the green ninja?"

The poll was between Kai (8069) and Lloyd (8059).

I have a lot of feelings about this, but I want to preface with: my opinion on this has nothing to do with how I feel about Lloyd as a character. Even if he was my least favorite in the show, I would still feel this way. It has less to do with Lloyd, and more do do with Kai.

The people who genuinely believe Kai should have been the green ninja do not understand Kai as a character. This is a bold statement, and I don't say it to be rude or condescending. There are so many nostalgia blind people in the fandom (moreso on Twitter and Instagram than here on Tumblr). These people have convinced themselves the show is bad because Kai didn't become the green ninja.

Here is my rebuttal: Ninjago depends solely on Lloyd becoming the green ninja.

Yes, all the other characters are important to the show, and there are many moving factors that make the show possible. However, the first season is completely about discovering the green ninja who will rise against the ultimate evil. And that character was never going to be Kai. The writers didn't decide last minute to make Lloyd the green ninja.

If Kai were the green ninja, his character would be bland, and ultimately, he'd be insufferable. Kai's development would have never happened had he been the green ninja. He would have stayed an egotistical hothead who assumed he was better than everyone. The character that these nostalgia blind fans love was created only because he realized that he was not destined to be "the best".

Furthermore, the Ultimate Battle would have had no emotional impact. At all. Across all media platforms, I see love for "Rise of the Spinjitzu Master". Even the people who believe Kai should've been the green ninja have shown their love for that episode. But that episode would not be well loved... like... at all... if Kai were the one fighting. Why? Because it wasn't his father that was being held hostage. It wasn't his story to be told. It would be a flashy fight, sure, but the fight choreography isn't what makes the moment so rewarding. It's the fact that Lloyd saved his father and purified the part of him that was thought to be long lost.

This is not meant to belittle who believe Kai should have been the green ninja. I just think they refuse to look past a story standpoint because their favorite didn't get the fancy power. It was never meant to be Kai. And he wouldn't have ever grown or changed had it been.

I also know that not all Kai stans are like this. It's mostly just Insta/Twitter fans who refuse to debate. They're also the ones that discredit SoG onwards because the designs changed. There's no point in trying to talk with them because they just... yea.

I just felt the need to write this because I've seen a lot of this on Instagram lately. I got a reel of Lloyd using the Dragon Cores to stop the mergequakes and someone in the comments was like: "To think that would've been Kai". And then I saw those poll results. And now I'm here.

If you read to the end just know that I love you (/p) and I hope you have the best day / week / month / year / life ever.

[detectivemiku]

Y'all we just saw movie 27 last night and it was SO GOOD!! Spoilers below~

One of the absolute BEST parts of the movie was Kaito's new theme, I absolutely ADORE the circus music with him it literally fits so well with every scene. Just in general the soundtrack was amazing.

Kaito wasn't in the movie a whole lot, he just kind of appeared sometimes, caused chaos, and then left and it's brilliant. The amount of times Heiji and Kaito save each other despite being rivals (and Heiji being pissed with KID) its just perfection.

Maybe my favorite scene is where Heiji and what's his face are having a sword fight on top of a plane and Heiji falls of, but Kaito come in (circus theme in tow), grabs him and just plops him back on the plane 😭😭 my guy didn't even stick around in case he fell again.

Ran spending the movie supporting Heiji and his confession was so cute. When she knocked out that guy and took him away so Kazuha and Heiji could be alone, like #1 wingwoman right there.

Dude and the confession scene was SO GOOD. Like that would've been the perfect confession if not for the fact the movie is technically not canon so relationship progress can't be made.

Kaito's reaction to Nakamori getting shot was the most heartbreaking thing, and then him visiting him in the hospital with Aoko but in disguise, and leaving once he woke up, man I wish he could just visit him as Kaito. It wouldn't be weird either because they're practically family! I just feel so bad for Kaito. But the phonecall at the end was so sweet.

Toichi's reveal at the end was literally the most villainous thing I've ever seen. Also it was a little unclear if Kaito found out his dad was alive or not? It probably mentioned something in the dialogue we missed but Kaito didn't really react all that much so I'm assuming he still doesn't know (and also something that big I think would be revealed to him in his own manga).

For the case itself, we tried our best to follow it but it was a bit confusing considering we don't know Japanese, but overall we were able to pick up on a lot of stuff.

All in all, amazing movie. The animation, the choreography, the soundtrack, everything was just so intense and super well-done, I can't wait until the movie is around with subtitles so I can get 100% of the picture rather than like 80%.

[marvel-starwarsfangirl]

The thing about the PotC brainrot is that I literally will just stare at DMC and AWE and marvel at them. Like, AWE has some of the greatest film music I've ever heard AND the greatest movie climax I've ever seen.

I'm also just in awe of how stunning these movies are and how the production crew was able to pull off such amazing stunts and fight choreography. Movies today have so much CGI to the point where it becomes too much. But Davy Jones and his crew still hold up. And the final battle in AWE used real ship sets and pyrotechnics. They don't make movies (or shows) like they used to. The difference between seeing real environments vs CGI/the Volume is staggering. I miss seeing the real locations. It's beautiful. And yeah, I can pick up on the CGI more in Pirates now vs back then, but it still holds up even to this day.

I can't get enough of these movies. The OG trilogy was my childhood. I just LOVE them. And rn, I will be stuck thinking about them for a while.

And ok, the writing wasn't perfect for DMC and AWE, but I feel like I just get so lost in the characters and the world that it doesn't matter. CotBP is still the strongest writing wise, but again, you get so lost in the world that the flaws don't hit me as much. If anything, I love that film even more now.

idk. yall ever just love a film/show/book so much that you can't really explain it? That's Pirates for me.

[cyanide-sippy-cup]

The Batman (2022) isn't perfect by any means, but it is still a phenomenal film and one of the best pieces of Bat-media in recent memory.

Firstly, the aesthetic. Seemingly small but an incredibly important part. BTAS was broody, '89 was gothic, Forever was campy, TDK was... bad. And TB I think finds a real sweet spot in between vibes. It's dark, serious, it's got a technological noir, and yet still has vibrancy and color and (the key to my heart) neon.

One scene, you'll be sitting in an abandoned tunnel with shadows and muddy colors, the next you'll be surrounded by police under white lights, and the next you'll be in a night club with LEDs of every color you can think.

The fights. This film has some of the best Batman fights I've ever seen period. Really just action in general. The night club, the hallway, the finale. It's not like TDK where every fight is slow, precise, methodical, and honestly boring. Each fight or chase here is energetic and entertaining. The choreography is excellent, the stakes are legitimately high, and the settings are always unique.

The night club is crowded and overwhelming, with people swinging, shouting, and grabbing at Bats who aren't even apart of the fight. His skills and equipment save his life multiple times, whether it's block a bullet with a precise pipe throw or survive a shotgun blast with his armor. When he finally grabs Penguin you feel as overwhelmed and animalistic as he does.

The precinct escape is tight and tense. From the punch to the jump, every second makes you feel the absolute abominable stress of trying to escape a building like this. Officers pouring out of every room, bullets whizzing by and beaming off his suit. Merely seconds to get the flight suit on before they come pouring out to the roof. We experience the fall with him as his nerves spike, all culminating in a quick second decision that ends with him crashing into the side of the road.

Gotham. The beloved city feels full here. Subways are crowded, streets are packed. The crime feels real. Vandals, gang violence, thieves, assassins, crime families. It's not just militants and killers. We see the systemic issues in place that cause these. We see the feelings and social strains that make people do this. It's like you're taking a peak into another world with context and history you don't know but understand. It feels right.

The characterizations. I'm not a huge fan of the whole "Bruce Wayne is the mask, Batman is the real you" thing inflamed by TDK. And I really don't like "the Waynes were corrupt and did bad things, even for good reasons".

I think there's so much more to say about the two very different, very real sides to Bruce's personality. The one that comes out as billionaire playboy philanthropist, and the one that comes out as a violent and vengeful demon. Both who are willing to suffer for their causes. And I think there's so much more when the Waynes die from a mugging. That the crime is so bad it took the highest. That it could take anyone at any time, even the beloved elite.

However it does something right that most other Bat-media fails at. It makes Batman a symbol of hope. It demonstrates a growth in himself. That he can do more good to inspire the people than to instill fear in them.

Pandaredd made a good video on this, but in Crisis On Two Earths, Bats' opposite is represented as the ultimate nihilist. This means that at his core, Batman is really the ultimate optimist. And that makes sense. You don't put on a suit and fight crime, you don't try to create resources to help people, you don't befriend and reform your own Rogues gallery unless you believe you can change something. That all the work you do, all the suffering you experience will be worth it when you get to know the world healed.

And that's something The Batman understands. Batman started as a symbol of fear. So that every criminal hesitates at an alley. Panics at a shadow. But he became something else. A symbol of optimism. So that people can walk the streets at night. That they can get the help they need. That they can look into the sky with hope.

[readingtoinfinity]

Murder Drones

Ever since I started watching The Amazing Digital Circus I've seen mentions of Glitch's other notable series, Murder Drones. I was aware of it from Kevin Temmer mentioning it on his YouTube channel, but the more I watched TADC the more I thought maybe I should check it out.

I have just finished watching the episodes today, and I can confirm it's almost awesome.

The plot follows Uzi, a young robot angsting in her father's sturdy shadow who meets three murder drones ("title drop" ding), one of whom, N, she rapidly befriends and nothing more shut up. From there, the mystery of what the murderous drones are and what's happened to the humans starts to unravel.

It's a show that really amps up into quality. If I had to graph the episodes I would say that episodes 1-4 aren't particularly strong, with episode 4 being the worst overall and episode 3 the second-worst. There's a cavalier attitude from the main characters about the lives of their (admittedly dickish) compatriots that doesn't quite mesh when their beef with the murder drones is the murder. But in a series dripping with black comedy, that is perhaps to be expected; the clash in tones just bothered me.

But things strongly improve in episode 5 onward when we get the reveal of what's really going on, and the horror elements start creeping in. The fact the main antagonist isn't introduced until halfway through the show and manages to be the best character with as little screentime as they get. The finale, I believe, is the best episode, and mixes strong animation with excellent fight choreography for a pulse-pounding finale that's going to stick with me for awhile.

If you remember starting to watch RWBY in the hopes it would turn into something really interesting, you may enjoy this. It's almost just the Hero's Journey in a very grim sci-fi setting that doesn't take itself too seriously, but there's a bite to it that makes it quite scary at its best.

[i-am-church-the-cat]

After watching 2024 ISU Montreal, Logan as a figure skater has been on my mind for the longest time.

god...aaaa...im rolling on the floor rn, i can't handle it

the years of my life invested in YOI and figure skating aus is unstoppable, i can't hold it back, i must type-ity-type

Logan's father introduced him and Dalton to ice skating through hockey. Even living in Florida, they had been fans of any and every sport. Football was a favorite, of course, as was basketball, baseball, soccer, lacrosse, sailing, surfing, skiing, and golf. High-contact sports were the most compelling to boys of their age, so when they learned that there was a sport where guys slammed into each other with knives on their feet, they had to check it out.

But starting hockey wasn't what made Logan fall in love with the ice. The first time he'd ever skated had been with his mother on a lake by her childhood home back up in Ohio. He'd been so small, stuck to her side like a barnacle, a mama's boy since the beginning.

The smooth glide of his feet across the clear surface was revelatory. The weight of himself was no longer holding him down, gravity was easier to fight on skates instead of shoes. The thin white lines they left behind them were entrancing. Logan never worried about getting lost because he always knew where he'd been.

Hockey was fun but it wasn't what Logan wanted. The ice wasn't made for chipped teeth and blood-soaked spit. Something that was safety and grace, as dangerous as it was beautiful, deserved more respect than that.

There was a kid on the team between his and Dalton's, Lance. He was cool in a weird sort of way and didn't care that Logan never knew when to speak and when to stay silent. They didn't hang out often and they've fallen out of touch since, but it was his fault that Logan became who he was.

Or, more accurately, his sister's.

Chloe wasn't very graceful but she was an artist and she loved the ice. If Logan got to practice early enough, he could watch the tail end of her figure skating practice. Mr. Stroll always rented out the entire rink for Chloe and her private figure skating coach, only the best for his daughter. So a lot of the times it would be just her, dancing on the ice, her coach, shouting critiques over her chosen music, and Logan, sitting lonely and enraptured in the stands.

It took him almost a month of watching Chloe before he got up the nerve to try out some of the things he had seen. The choreography wasn't that hard, though Logan's rhythm wasn't the greatest at nine years old. But the jumps were hard, and the jumps hurt, and he couldn't figure it out.

But something always made him get back up and keep trying. He couldn't stop once he got something stuck in his mind and the leaps and twists of figure skating jumps were stuck like flies in amber.

The first jump he ever landed was a toe loop. Not that he knew what it was called at the time, and he barely finished a whole rotation, but he stayed standing which was better than he had done in the couple weeks he'd been trying any time he could steal some ice time. When Logan had hit the ice, wobbling but not falling, he'd let out a shocked, delighted laugh. Instead of being sated, his fascination with figure skating just wanted more.

"You're a little old to not be landing singles."

Logan whirled around at the unexpected voice. He'd thought he was totally alone, the rink on the edges of closing. But there was Chloe Stroll's figure skating coach, looking at him with calculating eyes. Logan tried to hold himself up taller, to look more secure than he felt.

"I- I've never tried before," Logan had admitted. He'd felt embarrassed and then felt mad for feeling embarrassed. The coach had looked considering.

"Have you ever tried ballet? You might want to start there."

Logan, even at nine, had recoiled at the idea. It had taken all his courage just to practice figure skating in private, in steps and moments he could steal. But ballet was- his dad would never want him to do that. Dalton would laugh at him, the couple friends he had would think he's weird. He couldn't do ballet.

But he couldn't give up the ice, either. Even when his hockey season ended, Logan was at the rink every day, begging his mom to take him after school. He was older than most kids were when they started and he didn't have a coach or any proper training. If he wanted to do the kind of things Logan wanted to do on the ice, he'd have to push himself further, train his body more, practice for hours on end. A few hours every week wasn't enough.

It was nearing the summer time when Logan worked up all the courage in his little body to ask for ballet lessons. He'd done research, used the family computer to look up ballet teachers in the area, ones that specialized in training athletes for other sports. He had his arguments, his bargaining chips, his promises and dreams all held in the palm of his head.

Logan worked up the courage to ask.

And his father had laughed.

So had Dalton. The only one who didn't laugh was his mother, who saw the heartbreak Logan tried so hard to hide with his fake laughter. Of course, he was only joking. That was the only possibly explanation for why he would say such a thing.

Logan's dreams died that night. He resigned himself to copying jumps he saw on YouTube, stolen moments in the ice rink that felt safer than his own home sometimes.

But the next week, when his mom was taking him to the ice rink, Logan realized they'd made a wrong turn. When he mentioned it to his mom, she'd just shushed him. He'd been left in confusion all the way up to the small, squat building. He'd picked out the words on the sign in front of him like a crow picking out gems from the refuse.

Ayliah's Ballet School

Logan's dad was mad when he found out about the lessons a few months later. In response, Logan had brought all the figure skating magazines he'd been hoarding down from his room and showed them to his parents. The pages he'd bookmarked, the sketches he'd made to try and figure out a skater's pose, the torn-out descriptions of an intricate step sequence. He'd looked up at his dad with big, desperate eyes, willing him to understand the inextricable draw figure skating had at him.

By the time he started fifth grade, Logan had a ballet teacher and figure skating coach. By the end of fifth grade, he had landed his first triple jump.

--

At 19, Logan was the most anxious he could ever remember being. He was also more excited than he thought physically possible.

It was his third year in the senior series, and for the first time, he'd been invited to two ISU grand prix. He had an actual chance at the world championships, something he hadn't had since he won the junior series at 16.

Logan's choreography that year was good, really good. He'd put way more work into his presentation after what an opposing skater had said to him at nationals last year.

"Your jumps might have won you one championship, but everyone can jump in the senior series. Stand out, Logan, or get out."

For Logan, who had never cared much what music he had or what step sequences he did as long as it got him enough points, it was a rough wake up call. He was proud of his jumps, the technical perfection he'd spent years and years honing. He could now land the the quad toe loop, quad salchow, and quad Lutz consistently in competition. But his artistry left something to be desired, and it hurt his program scores in the long run.

He'd changed that this year. He'd worked with his choreographer for months to find the right music, the right transitions, the right spins and steps. Logan had even reached out to a figure skater he'd skated with in the junior leagues who always had the best costumes about his stylist.

The first thing he'd noticed about the ice was that it was a canvas, a glistening field just awaiting someone to paint it in soft white stripes. He'd fallen in love with the danger of it, the allure, but he had neglected the emotional appeal. Madame Ayliah would surely be disappointed if he saw him.

But not this year. Not with a short program as bold as the one he had this year, not with a free skate this spellbinding. Logan had even started drafting ideas for a exhibition state, caught in the draw of expressing his emotions on the ice. He was never good at being vulnerable but this year, the ice demanded it of him. He demanded it of himself.

The US could send three men's figure skaters to the World Championships. Three out of thousands. Logan was going to show why he deserved to be one of them.

One day, Logan would lay on the ice, bleeding and broken, and know its cruel love had run out. But today, it welcomed him home.

[featherfangart]

Hey! I've seen some posts you've made where you mention you've been struggling with the WW Lives comic and that you're really excited about FF and as a Trigun fan and someone who adores the WW comic, I just wanted to say that if you ever feel like you want to jump fandoms or abandon a work you can do it!

The worst feeling in the world is when some project you were passionate about becomes a chore so if you want to keep it going I'll wait as long as it takes and I'll love it! But if you ever feel like stopping I wanted to reassure you that it's ok, and that you don't owe anything to any fandom! You can do whatever you want, forever! 💙

Hello, anon friend! You have no idea how MUCH this message means to me. <3 I have hard times leaving a project I started, because I am an idiot who hates feeling like a quitter and I want to keep my word. The word I gave to you guys here, to my patrons, to people who appreciate my artwork and thus make me feel whole and like I have at least some sort of a voice. And while I'm not about to drop it, it really means a lot to know that it's okay to do so in case i needed a break. Thank you so much! <3

The situation with WW Lives is not as bad as I may have made it out to be. My apologies! <3 I'm just dumbfounded for my renewed love for FFVII. An energy I haven't felt towards it in a year and... well. Feels rather nostalgic, when I was saying things like 'I'm not quitting' a few months ago, just targetted at VII. I needed some fresh air and Trigun gave it to me.

I am just extremely whiny now, because the last few weeks have been a lot of pressure, I'm on the edge of a little burn out and the next four/five pages of the chapter I'm about to draw for WWL (ch6) are a bit difficult. I suck when it comes to dynamic scenes. I suck when it comes to action. And boy am I bad coming up with choreographies for fights. And you guessed right - there's a fight. Or like. A little hassle. And I am anxious to do it right, don't want to do it, but also want to finish it, because I am SO excited about what comes of it and after that. And man. The thought of quitting just when we're about to meet the boi? OH NO. I'm not doing that. <3 Thank you for the reassurance, though! <3 <3 Reading it almost made me sob in the morning. I always said that Trigun fandom is really lovely, so thank you for confirming that! It means a lot. <3

[boundless11]

A leak account on TikTok said sam doesn't fight in the end and tory is captain which if it's true will be the most disappointed at a show i've ever been. Do you think that's gonna happen? Why do they keep doing sam like this when sam is clearly the better fighter? God

Sam will never get the closure she deserves at this rate. Fighting is who she is—it’s at the core of her character. Just because Tory is fighting for her mother, doesn’t make Sam’s reasons any less valid. It’s important to her, and it’s what drives her. Why should Tory get yet another shot at winning just because of her tough home life? How many times has Sam saved her?

Sam is clearly the better fighter—she’s technical, adaptable and can even bring the flash when needed. She doesn’t just fight; she observes her opponents, learns their moves,l and adjusts accordingly. Meanwhile, Tory was bland in Part 2, stuck in limbo with little growth or depth. She couldn’t even hold her own against Zara in a fight that lasted less than a minute, filled with heavy editing and obvious use of doubles.

Some of the leaks for Part 2 ended up being wrong and I’m really hoping this one is too. On a brighter note, I’ve seen leaked pics of Sam in Part 3, so fingers crossed this plays out differently! At least when it comes to choreography, Sam’s fights are consistently on another level—dynamic, exciting and proof of why she’s the real deal.