#ive gagged too many times watching this channel

[veruandfandoms]

Veru: *is laying on me bed*

Me: Pls get up...

Veru: n o p e :)

Me: Okay then. But you must let me tell you about the incredible trauma that Mark and Ethan have put me through.

Veru: *d a s h e s off the bed*

[itsclydebitches]

RWBY Recaps: Volume 8 “Dark”

Welcome back, everyone! Can you believe it's been six weeks already? I can't. Something something the uncomfortable passage of time during a pandemic as emphasized by a web-series.

But we're here to talk about RWBY the fictional story, not RWBY the cultural icon. At least, we will in a moment. First, I'd like to acknowledge that shaky line between the two, growing blurrier with every volume. A sort of good news, bad news situation.

The bad news — to get that out of the way — is that we cannot easily separate RWBY from its authors and those authors have, sadly, been drawing a lot of negative attention as of late. This isn't anything new, not at all, but I think the unexpectedly long hiatus gave a lot of fans (myself included) the chance to think about Rooster Teeth's failings without getting distracted by their biggest and brightest production. There's a laundry list of problems here — everything from the behavior of voice actors to the quality of their merch — but as a sort of summary issue, I'd like to highlight the reviews that continue to pop up on websites like Glassdoor, detailing the toxic, sexist, crunch-obsessed environment that RT employees are forced to work in. A lot of these websites requires a login to read more than a page of reviews, but you can check out a Twitter thread about it here. 

Now, I want to be clear: I'm not bringing this up as a way to shame anyone enjoying RWBY. This isn't a simplistic claim of, "The authors are Problematic™ and therefore you can't like the stuff they produce." Nor is this meant to be a catch-all excuse for RWBY's problems. If it were, I'd have dropped these recaps years ago. I'm of the belief that audiences maintain the right to both praise and criticize the work they're given, regardless of the context in which that work was produced. At the end of the day, RT has presented RWBY as a finished product and, more than that, presents it as an excellent product, one worth both our emotional investment and our money (whether in the form of paying for a First account, or encouraging us to buy merch, attend cons, etc.) I'll continue to critique RWBY as needed, but I a) wanted fans to be at least peripherally aware of these issues and b) clarify that my use of "RT" in statements like, "I can't believe RT is screwing up this badly" is meant to be a broad, nebulas acknowledgement that someone in the company is screwing up, either creatively (doesn't have the skill to write a good scene) or morally (hasn't created an environment in which other creators are capable of crafting a good scene). The real, inner workings of such companies are mostly a secret to their audiences and thus it's near impossible for someone like me — random fan writing these for fun as a casual side hobby — to accurately point fingers. Hence, broad "RT." I just wanted to clarify that when I use this it's as a necessary placeholder for whoever is actually responsible, not a damnation of the overworked animator breaking down in a bathroom. Heavy stuff, but I thought it was necessary (or at least worthwhile) to acknowledge this issue as we head into the second half of the volume.

Now for the good news: RWBY has reached 100 episodes! For any who may not know, 100 is a pretty significant number in the TV world because, when talking about prime time programming, it guarantees syndicated reruns. Basically, networks don't want audiences to get burned out with a show — changing the channel when it comes on because ugh, I've seen this already, recently too — and 100 episodes allows for a roughly five month run without any repeats, making it very profitable. RWBY is obviously not a television show and doesn't benefit from any of this (hell, modern television doesn't benefit from this as much as it used to, not in the age of streaming), but the 100 episode threshold is still ingrained in American culture. Beyond just being a nice, rounded number, it is historically a measure of huge success and I can't imagine that RT isn't aware of that. Regardless of what we think of RWBY's current quality, this is one hell of a milestone and should be applauded.

All that being said... RWBY's quality is definitely still lacking lol.

Our 100th episode is titled "Dark" — keeping with the one word titles, then — and I'd like to emphasize that, as a 100th episode, it definitely delivers in terms of plot. There's plenty of action, important character beats, and at least one major reveal, everything we'd expect from a milestone and a Part II premiere. The animation also continues to be noteworthy for its beauty, as I found myself admiring many of the screenshots I took for this recap. There are certainly things to praise. The only problem (one we're all familiar with by now) is that these small successes are situated within a narrative that's otherwise falling apart. It's all good stuff... provided you ignore literally everything else surrounding it.

But let's dive into some examples. We open on Qrow starting, awoken by the thunder outside. Robyn has been watching him and makes a peppy comment about how none of them will be sleeping tonight, followed by a more serious, "Sounds bad out there." Yeah, it does sound bad, especially when they all know — thanks to Ruby's message back in Volume 7 — that this is due to Salem's arrival. I think a lot of the fandom has forgotten that little detail because people often discuss Qrow as if he is entirely ignorant of what is going on outside his cell. Even if we were to assume that he's forgotten all about the pesky Salem issue (the horror of Clover's death overriding everything else, perhaps) he still knows that Tyrian is running loose in a heat-less city with a creepy storm going on and, from his perspective, the Very Evil Ironwood is still running the show. So it's bad, which begs the question of why Qrow (and Robyn, for that matter) hasn't displayed an ounce of legitimate worry for everyone he knows out there. Thus far, their interactions have centered entirely around Qrow's misplaced blame and Robyn's terrible attempts to lighten the mood, despite the fact that a war is raging right beyond that wall. It's another example of RWBY's inability to manage tone properly, to say nothing of balancing the multiple concerns any one character should be trying to juggle. Just as it rankles that Ruby and Yang don't seem to care about what has happened to their uncle, Qrow likewise doesn't seem to care about what might be happening to his nieces. When did we reach a point where these relationships are so broken that someone can be arrested/chucked into a deadly battle and the others just... ignore that?

So Robyn's otherwise innocuous comment immediately reminds me of how badly the narrative has treated these conflicts and, sadly, things don't improve much from here. We are thankfully spared more of Robyn's jokes when Qrow realizes that what he's hearing can't be thunder. A second later, Cinder blasts through the wall — called it! — and Qrow instinctively transforms. 

The only downside to this moment is that the whole ceiling falls down on Qrow and the others because APPARENTLY these cells don't have tops on them. Seriously. As far as I can recall we don't see the stone breaking through the forcefield somehow and this looks pretty open to me.

If it is... you're telling me these crazy powerful fighters who practice landing strategies and leap tall buildings in a single bound —

— can't just hop over this mildly high electric fence to get out? Qrow can't just fly away?

We're, like, two minutes in, folks.

We transfer to Nora's perspective as she wakes up, seeing Klein giving her the IV. He tells her not to worry, that "you and your friend are going to be just fine." What friend? Penny? Klein went upstairs prior to Weiss hugging Whitley or Penny crash landing outside. I had thought them bursting through the door with another unconscious friend was the first time he learned what the big bang outside was, but apparently not.

Penny is, obviously, a mess. While I now understand the choice to make her blood such an eye-catching color when that's crucial to the Hound's hunt, I still think it looks strange visually. Like someone has taken a copy of RWBY and painted over it. It doesn't look like it fits the art style. More than that, it implies some rather complicated things about Penny's humanity, especially in a volume focused around her being a "real girl." Real enough for Maiden powers, but with obviously inhuman blood that isn't even referred to as "bleeding." Penny "leaks" instead.

Toss in the fact that she's literally an android who is made up of tech — recall the running gags about her being heavy, or it hurts to fist-bump her, to say nothing of keeping things like multiple blades inside her body — yet Klein says that her "basic anatomy" is the same and he can "stitch up that wound."

I'm sorry, what? Whatever Penny looks like on the inside, it's not going to resemble a human woman's anatomy, and Klein might be able to stitch the outer layer of skin she's got, but that won't do anything to fix whatever metal bits have been broken underneath. Penny isn't a human-robot hybrid, she's a robot with an aura. Penny has knives in her back, rockets in her feet, and a super computer behind her eyes. When our clip introduced that Klein would be the one to help Penny, my initial reaction was, "Seriously? He's a butler and a doctor and an engineer?" But RWBY didn't even try to get away with a Super Klein explanation, they just waved away Penny's very obvious, inhuman anatomy. Yeah, I'm sure "stitching up" an android wound is just like giving Nora her IV. I hope the surgical sutures he used are extra strong!

In an effort to not entirely drag this episode, I do appreciate that Whitley is allowed an "ugh" moment about the non-blood covering his shirt without anyone calling him out on it. That felt like the sort of thing the show would usually try to make a character feel guilty about and I'm glad that, for once, he was just allowed to be frustrated without comment.

Then the power goes out and May calls, which raises questions about what state the CCTS is in and when scrolls are available to our protagonists vs. when they're not. But whatever. She's checking in because she just "saw another bombing run light up the Kingdom" and —

Wait. Bombing? Salem is bombing the city? I know we've seen explosions in the sky, but I'd always just attributed that to evil aesthetic. Why does this dialogue sound like it's from a World War II film and not a fantasy sci-fi show about literal monsters launching a ground attack?

May looks pretty against the sky though. I like her hair color against that purple.

I'm admittedly grasping at positives here because we finally return to her "You have to choose" ultimatum and — surprise! — May has pulled back completely. Ruby says that once they've helped Penny, "We'll...we'll do something!" which is once again her avoiding making a decision. Ruby still refuses to choose, instead falling back on generic, optimistic pep talks. They'll figure out how to stop Salem later. They'll think about the impact of telling the world later. They'll choose who to help later. Ruby keeps pushing these problems into the future where, she hopes, a perfect, magical solution will have appeared for her to latch onto. When that continues to not happen, others pressuring her to actually do something and stop waiting for perfection — Ironwood, Yang, May — she panics and continues stalling for time. Wait an episode and the narrative supports her in this.

Because initially May was forcing Ruby to decide. Now, May enables her desire to keep putting things off. "Don't beat yourself up, kid. At this point, I don't know how much is left to be done." That's the exact opposite of what May believed last episode, that there was still so much work and good to do for the people of Mantle. This is precisely what the show did with Yang and Ren's scenes too, having people call Ruby out... but then return to a message of, 'Don't worry, you're actually doing just fine' before Ruby is forced to actually change.

None of which even touches on May calling her "kid" in this moment. That continues to be a convenient way of absolving Ruby of any responsibility. When she wants to steal airships or Amity Tower, she's an adult everyone should listen to, the leader of this war. When the story wants to absolve her of previously mentioned flaws, she becomes a kid who shouldn't "beat herself up." I said years ago that RWBY couldn't continue to let the group be both children and adults simultaneously, yet here we are.

So that was a thoroughly disappointing scene. Ruby gets her moment to look sad and defeated, listing "the grimm, the crater, Nora, Penny" as problems she doesn't know how to solve. Note that 'Immortal witch attacking the city I've helped trap here' isn't included in that list. Ruby is still ignoring Salem herself and no one in the group is picking up where May left off, challenging her to do more than wring her hands over things others are already trying to take care of: Ironwood is fighting the grimm, May has gone off to help the crater, Klein is patching up Nora and Penny. Ruby, as one flawed individual, should not be expected to come up with a solution to everything, but she does need to stop acting like she can come up with a solution to everything when it matters most (office scene) and rejecting others' solutions when they ask for her help (Ironwood, May).

If it feels like I'm dragging the flawed, traumatized teenager too much, it's not in an effort to ignore those aspects of her identity. Rather, it's because she's also the licensed huntress who wrested control from a world leader and violently demanded she be put in charge of this battle. Ruby, by her own actions, is now responsible for dealing with these problems, or admitting she was wrong and letting others take the lead, without purposefully derailing their plans. She doesn't get to suddenly go, "I don't know," cry a little, and get sympathetic pats.

But of course that's precisely what happens, courtesy of Weiss.

During this whole scene I kept wondering why no one was celebrating Nora waking up, especially when Ruby outright mentions her. Have they just not noticed given all the Penny drama? Because Nora absolutely woke up.

Aaaand went back to sleep, I guess. What was the point of that POV shot? No worries though, she'll wake up again in a minute.

Willow arrives and announces that they can fix the power (and Penny) using the generator at the edge of the property. I'm convinced RT doesn't actually know what a generator is because the characters are acting like it's some super special device that only richy-rich could possibly have. Whitley says that it's the SDC executives who have their "own power supply" and that it's "extremely unfair." Now, don't get me wrong, a good generator powering large portions of your house can run you 30k+, but you can also get one that plugs into your extension cord and powers your fridge for a couple hundred. There's absolutely a class issue here, just not the one Whitley and Weiss seem to be commenting on. They make a generator sound like the sort of device that only a politician-CEO could possible have and it's weird.

Likely, it sounds weird because it's a choppy way of getting Whitley to bring up the wealth disparity so he can then go, 'That's right! We're crazy rich with a company housing tons of ships! We can use those to evacuate Mantle.' Awkwardness aside, I do like that the Schnee wealth is being used for good purposes, but... evacuate where? To the city currently under attack by a giant whale? In a RWBY that wasn't determined to demonize Ironwood, this would have been a great plot point during the office scene instead, with Weiss offering her services to Ironwood, even if the group decides that a continued evacuation still isn't possible.

Instead, we get it here from Whitley. Do I need to point out the obvious? That Whitley is the MVP of this episode? He's done more good in an HOUR than the group has managed in a year. Give this kid some training and make him a huntsmen instead.

We're given a (very pretty!) shot of the shattered moon because it wouldn't be RWBY if we weren't continually reminded that gods once wiped out humanity before destroying part of a celestial body... and absolutely no one talks about that lol.

Blake's coat might not make any sense for her color scheme, but it does make her easy to spot as she and Ruby run across the grounds. Oh my god, they're actually doing something together! It only took eight years. They even get a lovely talk where Blake admits how much she looks up to Ruby, despite her being younger, and once again I'm struck at how much more I would have loved this scene if it had appeared elsewhere in the series. It is, indeed, as sweet and emotional as all the RWBY GIF-ers are claiming... provided you overlook that this is the exact opposite of what Ruby needs to hear right now. She doesn't need to hear that she's more mature and reliable than her elders when she's functioning under a "We don't need adults" mentality. She doesn't need to hear that not knowing what to do is totally fine, not when that led to her turning on Ironwood, despite not knowing how to stop Salem. She doesn't need to hear that "doing something" — doing anything — is a strength, because Ruby keeps avoiding the big problems for smaller ones she's comfortable with, like standing by Penny's bedside instead of deciding between Mantle and Atlas. Blake's speech is heartfelt, but it's a speech that suits a Beacon days Ruby who is having some doubts about her leadership skills, not the girl whose impulsive — and now lack of — actions is having world-wide repercussions. Everyone is babying Ruby to a staggering degree. It's like if we had a med show where the doctor is standing by the bedside of a coding patient, fretting between two treatments. 'Don't worry,' their colleague says, patting their shoulder. 'I've always looked up to you. You'll do something when you're ready' and then they continue to watch the patient, you know, die.

Also: who does Ruby look up to? Everyone talks about how much they depend on and trust Ruby, but who does Ruby look to for guidance? A number of her problems stem from the fact that she has rejected the advice of everyone who has tried to help her improve: Qrow, Ozpin, Ironwood, even Yang. Ruby is presented as the pinnacle of what to strive for in a leader, rather than a leader who has only been doing this for two years and still has a great deal to learn.

Anyway, they get the generator on and the Hound shows up.

I am begging RT to just make RWBY a horror story. All their best scenes the last three years have been horror I am bEGGING —

Anyway, while Ruby waits to be eaten we cut to Willow and Klein, the former of which is reaching for her bottle, pulling back, reaching again, all while her hand shakes. This is good. This is what we should have gotten with Qrow. Which isn't to say that their (or anyone's) addiction should be identical, but rather that this is a far more engaging and complex look at addiction than what our birb got. Willow tells us that she doesn't drink in the dark despite bringing the bottle with her; tries to resist drinking when she's scared and ultimately fails. Qrow just decided to stop drinking after decades of addiction, seemingly for no reason, and that was that. Why is a side character we only met this volume written better than one of the main cast?

Blake manages to call Weiss about the Hound and she asks if Whitley can handle the airships without her. I mean, I assume so given that Weiss is looking at the bookshelves while Whitley does all the work lol. He makes a teasing comment about how he can if she can handle that grimm and she comments that they still need to work on his "attitude."

No they don't. Weiss stuck a weapon in her kid brother's face. Whitley made a joke. Even if Weiss' comment is likewise meant to be read as teasing, it's clear that we've bypassed any meaningful conversation between them. That hug was supposed to be a Fix Everything moment even though, as I've laid out elsewhere, it didn't even come close.

We cut back to Ruby getting thrown through a wall into the backyard and the Hound creepily coming after her. She's freaked out by this clearly abnormal grimm and Blake is weirdly... not? "It's just a grimm. Just focus!" Uh, it's obviously not. Have we reached the traumatized, sleep-deprived point where the group is sinking into full-blown denial? I wouldn't be surprised. They've been awake for like... 40+ hours.

Because the Hound knocks Ruby out with a single hit. Just, bam, she's down. "Focusing" is not the solution here.

Weiss calls to warn the others about the grimm, telling them to stick together. Willow (understandably) starts freaking out and flees the room (classic horror trope!). Klein is left alone when Penny wakes up with red eyes. Oh no!

Don't worry. You know nothing meaningful happens.

She shoves Klein before (somehow?) resisting the hack, her Maiden powers going wild in the process. Just when it looks as if Penny might cause some serious damage, Nora wakes up, takes her hand, and says, I kid you not:

"Hey... no one is going to make you do anything you don't want to do... It's just a part of you. Don't forget about the rest."

Okay. I want to re-emphasize that I love hopeful, uplifting, victory-won-through-the-power-of-love stories. Istg I'm not dead inside, it's just that RWBY does this so badly. I mean, what is this? It has similarities to the character shouting, 'No! Resist!' to their mind-controlled ally, but this is not presented as a desperate, last-ditch effort by Nora. She just speaks like this is the most obvious truth in the world. If you don't want to have your mind taken over... just don't! It's that simple. The problem definitely isn't that Watts has changed her coding and has implemented a command she can't override, it's that Penny has forgotten about the "rest" of her personhood.

And this works. Granted, not for long, but we leave Nora having successfully calmed Penny down and until her eyes unexpectedly go red again scenes later, we're left assuming that this is a permanent solution. That, imo anyway, is taking the Power of Love too far, overriding the basic reality of Penny being hacked. It’s not a personal failing she must overcome, it’s an external attack. I would have rather had Nora react to the scars she saw on her arm, or have a moment with Klein, or get some love from the group. Not a wakes up, falls asleep, wakes up again to save Penny with a Ruby level 'Just ignore reality' pep-talk, then back to sleep again.

So Penny isn't attacking her allies, or mistakenly hurting her allies with wild Maiden powers. Not that the group doesn't have enough to deal with, but still. Weiss arrives to help with the Hound and attempts a new summon, only to fail when two minor grimm burrow up into her glyphs. I really enjoyed that moment, both for the wing visual and the knowledge that Weiss' glyphs can fail if you break them somehow (which makes sense). Also, I just like that she failed in general? Weiss is, as per usual now, about to demonstrate just how OP she is compared to the rest of the team, so it was nice to see her faltering here.

The Hound tries to make off with Ruby and Blake does an excellent job of keeping it tethered. Ruby finally wakes, only to realize that the grimm is actually after Penny since it's staring at her power up through the window, no longer trying to escape. Moments like this remind me that there's someone on RT's writing team that knows what they're doing, at least some of the time. The assumption that the Hound is after Ruby as a SEW, the surprise that it's actually Penny, realizing it holds up because Ruby is covered in Penny's blood and Blake is not... that's all nice, tight plotting. More of that please!

The Hound drops her and Ruby's aura shatters when she hits the ground. I want everyone to remember this moment as an example of how strong the Hound is. The group may be tired, but unlike YJR they've been sitting around in the Schnee manor for a number of hours, regaining strength. We saw the Hound hit Ruby twice — once through the wall and once to knock her out — and then she falls from a not very high distance for a huntress, yet her aura is toast. That's the level of power and skill the Hound possesses. Decimating YJR, knocking Oscar out, same for Ruby, avoiding Blake and Weiss' hits, soon to treat Penny like a ragdoll. Just remember all this for the episode's end.

Blake tells Weiss she'll take care of Ruby, you go help the others. Yay breaking up the duos more! Bad timing though as the new acid-spitting grimm pops out of the ground and Blake is now left alone to face it.

Weiss re-enters the mansion, knowing the Hound is somewhere nearby, but not where. Suddenly, Willow's voice sounds through her scroll with an, "Above you!" which... doesn't keep Weiss from getting hit lol. But it's the thought that counts! Willow has accessed the cameras she's set up throughout the manor, watching the Hound's movements, and I have to say, that is a WAY better use of her separation from Klein than I thought we were getting. I legit thought they'd have Willow run away in a panic, meet the Hound, die, and then Weiss could be sad about losing her mom.

It does say something about RWBY's writing that this was my knee-jerk theory, as well as my surprise when we got something way better.

The Hound runs off, uninterested in Weiss, and she asks Willow to keep tabs on it. It heads for Whitley next (also covered in Penny's blood) and very creepily stalks him in the office with a, "I know you're here." Whitley is seconds away from being Hound chow before one of Weiss' boars pin it against the wall. He runs, then runs BACK to finish deploying the airships, before finally escaping assumed death. Goddamn this boy is pulling his weight.

I assume all these ships are automated then? I hope someone takes a moment to call May. Otherwise it's going to be super weird for the Mantle citizens if a fleet of SDC ships just show up and hover there...

I don't entirely understand how Weiss saved him though. She's nowhere to be seen when Whitley leaves and he runs a fair distance before he and Willow encounter Weiss again. We know her summons don't have to keep right next to her, but are they capable of rudimentary thought, attacking an enemy — and an enemy only — despite Weiss being a couple corridors down and unable to see the current battlefield? I don't know. In another series I'd theorize that this was a deliberate hint, a way to clue us into the fact that Willow, someone who we currently know almost nothing about, had training in the past and summoned the boar herself. Weiss and Winter certainly didn't get that hereditary skill from Jacques. Hell, we might still get that, Weiss reacting with confusion next episode when Whitley thanks her for the boar, but I doubt it. That scene with Ruby and the Hound aside, the show isn't this good at laying groundwork and then following up on it.

Case in point: Weiss says, "I didn't forget you" to Whitley after he gets away from the Hound, the moment trying to harken back to her promise to Willow. Key word is "trying." Because she absolutely forgot him! Weiss threatened and ignored Whitley until he proved his usefulness. I also shouldn't need to point out that, "Don't forget your brother" does not mean, "Don't let your brother die a horrible death by abnormal grimm." Weiss acts like her saving him is a fulfillment of her promise, rather than just the most basic of human decency. And also, you know, her job.

So that part is frustrating. The entire Schnee dynamic is a mess, from Weiss making a joke of her father's arrest, to Willow (presumably) fixing their relationship by putting a hand on her daughter's shoulder. Okay.

Then Weiss cuts off the Hound by summoning a giant wall of ice. My brain, every time this happens:

YOU COULD HAVE FIXED THE HOLE IN MANTLE'S WALL.

Moving on, Blake's fight against the acid... thing has some great choreography, including Blake using her semblance which we haven't seen in AGES. 

I really like the fight itself, just not what Blake is shouting the whole time. "I need you, Ruby! We all need you!" This has really gotten ridiculous. Ruby is presented as everyone's sole savior despite failing time and time again. It's not that I don't think Blake as a character should have faith in her leader, it's that I don't think the writers should be crafting a story where everyone puts their unshakable hopes in an untrained, disloyal, impulsive 17 year old. I mean, Ruby is currently unconscious, yet Blake is acting like if she doesn't wake up — she, as an individual, if Ruby Rose does not re-join this fight — then all is lost. If Ruby doesn't save them, no one can. Which is, of course, absurd on numerous levels. Blake doesn't need the passed out, aura-less Ruby right now, she needs the still very healthy Weiss pulling out multiple summons and an ice wall! Use your scroll and call for backup again.

But of course, Ruby wakes up and kills the new, terrifying grimm with a single hit. It's a preview of what's to come with the Hound and it's just as ridiculous here as it will be there.

Speaking of the Hound, am I the only one who thought this was... cute?

I can't possibly be the only one. That head-tilt is exactly what my dogs do and my brain instinctively went, "Aww, puppy!"

Murderous puppy.

The Hound realizes none of the Schnees are who it's looking for and runs off. Penny, meanwhile, has been fully taken over because, well, that's just what's convenient now. She resists long enough keep Amity up, then succumbs, then resists to apologize to Ruby, then succumbs, then resists because Nora asked her to, then succumbs once it's time to knock her out. If RWBY was willing to commit to consequences, Penny would have been taken over and that was that. The characters would need to deal with whatever outcome happens as a result. Instead, the show very carefully avoids any of those pesky consequences by having Penny successfully resisting at key moments, despite no explanation of how she's managing that.

She shoves Klein again (Klein is having a Bad Time) and starts walking down the main steps. When Whitley wants to know where the hell she's going, Penny mechanically responds that she must "Open the vault, then self-destruct." I suppose the change Watts made was the self-destruct order? Ironwood obviously wants the vault open, though not necessarily Penny's death. Think what you will of his moral compass, she's a damn powerful ally — a research project, perhaps — and a Maiden to boot. At the very least, her death may give the powers to someone even worse.

God, please don't let them have brought Penny back and made her a Maiden just to kill her again.

The Hound arrives though and, as said, knocks Penny out. We're back to square one with her, then. Note though that this attack is near instantaneous. She grabs its hands one second, is hanging limply the next. Wow, the Hound sure is a terrifying antagonist!

Not for long.

"That's enough," Ruby says and one-shots it with her eyes.

Now, I want to talk for a moment about the implications of that line. "That's enough." Obviously Ruby is #done with this situation and emotionally unwilling to let the Hound kidnap Penny (congratulations, Nuts and Dolts shippers), but there's a meta reading here as well. Not intentional, but glaring to me nonetheless. Basically, the idea that the Hound has, from a plot perspective, done enough. It has served its singular purpose. It kidnapped Oscar and now it dies. Never-mind how insanely powerful we've established the Hound to be, never-mind how Ruby's eyes also work or don't work according to whether anything of actual import is on the line. From a plot perspective "that's enough" and the Hound can be disposed of instantly. It got Oscar and gave us an episode of filler creepiness. Move along now.

The idea behind Ruby's eyes isn't bad, but the execution absolutely is. RT has undermined a huge portion of the stakes by giving their protagonist an instant kill-shot that always works precisely when she needs it to. Starting with the Apathy, we have yet to get a moment where Ruby's eyes fail to save the day when she really needs them to, no matter how incredible the challenge. The Hound was very intentionally written to be a grimm outside of the group's current power level. It thinks, it talks, they literally can't touch it. This creates the expectation that the group will need to grow stronger — or at least become smarter — in order to surmount this new obstacle, yet Ruby's eyes undermine all of that. The group hasn't grown in years, the show just makes enemies weaker as needed (Ace Ops), or has Ruby pull out her eyes as a trump card. It wouldn't be that bad if we'd at least gotten a good battle out of it, one where the group gets close to defeating the Hound on their own, but needs Ruby's eyes to finish it off. Instead, she literally walks up without any aura, announces to the audience that this antagonist's time is up, and blasts it out a window.

Granted, Ruby's eyes don't completely finish it. The Hound pulls itself to its feet and we see this.

Yup, that's a guy and yup, those are silver eyes.

I would like to issue a formal apology to the "It's secretly Summer!" theorists in the fandom. I mean, I still think it would be ridiculous (and at this point highly improbable) that Ruby's dead mother has actually been a grimm mutant this whole time, just hanging out in Salem's realm while she waits for the plot to start before attacking the world, and then sends some no-name faunus dude after the group instead of their leader's mother for extra, emotional torture... but you all were definitely right about the “It's a person” part! I... don't know how I feel about this. Admittedly, it seems to be a logical continuation of the other grimm-human hybrids we've seen — namely Cinder and Salem herself — and it finally explains why Salem wants Ruby alive (even though it actually doesn't because WHY did she want more SEWs for Hound grimm when she wasn't even attacking back then? And already has all these other insanely powerful tools??), but at the same time, it feels like it's complicating a story that doesn't need further complications. The group fights monsters and has an immortal enemy. You don't need to add 'Some of those monsters are secretly human' to the mix.

It doesn't hurt that this twist is giving me Attack on Titan vibes, which, ew. A dark time in my fandom life, folks.

The Hound staggers a few steps before Whitley and Willow dump a suit of armor on it. That's all it takes to kill the most dangerous grimm we've ever seen: a single flash of silver eyes and some heavy metal. This also wreaks havoc with the implication that Salem wants SEWs alive because they create such powerful grimm. Obviously not. I mean yeah, normal huntsmen are going to have serious  problems, we’ve seen that this volume, but any other SEWs nearby will take a Hound out instantaneously. For a villain with so many other powerful abilities — immortality, magic, endless normal grimm, her nifty soup — Salem would be much better served just killing SEWs straight out. Clearly, creating Hounds isn't worth the effort.

The Hound leaves some bones behind and Ruby collapses to her knees, overcome with the knowledge that this was once a person. Again, uncomfortable Attack on Titan parallels.

We finish our premiere with Cinder clearing away rubble to reveal Watts. Honestly, I like that we ended on this because her rescue is hilarious. She just slings him over her shoulders like a sack of potatoes and blasts off with her magic fire feet. Fantastic.

Note though that with this scene we've seen almost everything from the clip and the trailer. What's to come in the rest of Volume 8? No idea. Outside of Winter leading the charge with the bomb, we got it all here.

Time to update the bingo board!

I'm crossing off "Introducing new grimm that are quickly abandoned." Between the Hound and acid-dude both falling to a single blast/cut from Ruby, we've more than earned this square.

It doesn't look as if we'll get another Watts-Jacques team-up now that he's left, but you never know.

Maria's got me worried. I feel like her Yoda fight against Neo is the one thing she'll be allowed to do this volume, but given that we didn't see anyone except Ruby's group this episode, we don't yet know whether the story is now ignoring her and Pietro, or if they'll re-appear in another episode like YJR.  

Qrow is free. Will he get a drink before trying to murder Ironwood? Perhaps.

Still no bingo :(

All in all, the episode was by no means horrible. I think there were lots of horrible parts, but also some legitimately well executed moments, fun action, and scenes that I can easily imagine as squee worthy if you lean back and squint. Everything is comparative and in the growing collection of bad RWBY episodes, this one isn't securing a top slot. Which doesn't mean I think it's good, just... not as bad as it could have been and primarily only bad due to long-running problems, not things this specific episode has done. That's my bar then, so low it has officially entered the underworld.

Still, RWBY is back and a part of me is eager to see where this volume takes us, for better or for worse.

Until next week! 💜

[Ko-Fi]

[tonystarkissist]

How about... tony is jealous of happys role in peters life?

Thank you very much for the prompt! I actually had a lot of fun with this one :D It’s been a while since I’ve written something so simple and short and it was actually pretty nice!

Word Count: 1879

It didn’t really bother Tony all that much at first. He saw it as more of a blessing than anything else that the kid had decided to subject Happy to his ramblings and elaborate voice messages instead of him. It kept his phone message free and his mind sane. 

Though, as time passed by, the lack of direct communication just seemed to piss him off more and more.

It was like the kid deliberately took every possible alternative just to avoid speaking with him directly. Heck, the kid had his phone number… his phone number. He never even gave Steve his personal phone number. So, there was no valid excuse for the kid not to call him. Yet, the brat felt the need to make it difficult and relay all his messages to Tony through Happy. And, yeah, okay, Tony might be a bit more understanding if Happy didn’t have the forgetfulness of an elderly man suffering of Alzheimer’s, but he did, and it was quite literally like pulling teeth when he needed to pry information from the man. 

“Hap, where’s Peter? You were supposed to drop him off here an hour ago.”

“Oh yeah… the kid’s real sick. He called me this morning and told me to tell you he couldn’t make it. Sorry, I forgot. The kid’s Aunt had me runnin’ all around town trying to find this special Tylenol medicine for him. Oh, by the way, the kid was wondering if you had any super meds leftover from Steve. He kept burning through that over the counter stuff in like 5-minutes.”

It even got to the point where Happy would simply just forward any voice messages he received from Peter straight to Tony because it was such a hassle for him to remember important things. Tony even told the kid that too, suggesting that just maybe he might consider calling his phone to give his after-patrol reports just to make things a little easier, but the kid grinned sheepishly at him and shrugged his shoulders with a simple “I don’t want to inconvenience you Mr. Stark.”

Tony, of course, had rolled his eyes and insisted there was no inconvenience at all. Still… the kid never called and he never texted. The only communication he received directly from the kid was their twice a week meetings in the lab after school got out.

Even then, Tony got the vibe that the kid wasn’t all that comfortable being around him. He refused anything Tony offered him and he wasn’t at all the rambling motormouth Happy made him out to be.

“Kid, you want something to eat?”

“No thank you Mr. Stark. Happy took me to Burger King after school. He even let me get a shake too!”

Tony wasn’t jealous. He wasn’t. Jealous was a very strong word. And he wasn’t jealous.

And besides, there was no reason to feel jealous. He was Iron Man. An Avenger. A billionaire. The owner of a multibillion dollar company ran by his stunning fiance. He had no reason to be jealous of his hot-headed, grumpy, slightly delusional head of security who was oh-so desperately in need of a girlfriend. No reason.

Except, maybe he did feel a little prickle of green against his skin when he was reminded of the developing relationship between his mentee and good friend. It was inevitable, really. It should be expected they grow at least a little close. Happy picked him up from school twice a week. Drove him to the Tower and back. More often than not, the man stopped to grab food, per Tony’s instruction, so the boy could eat his fill. Heck, all the things Tony really knew about the kid were via the channel Happy Hogan. 

“Y’know, the kid had braces a year ago. Has the retainer glued to the back of his teeth. The kid hates popcorn, ‘cause the kernels always get stuck.” The man had told him while Tony was trying to brainstorm bonding activities for him and the kid and got the idea for movies and popcorn…

“Yeah, the kid hates peppermint. He says it’s ‘cause of the Spider bite. Spiders hate peppermint.” Happy had told him when Tony started freaking out after the kid dashed out the penthouse, hacking and gagging all the way. It was near Christmas… and Pepper loved her Christmas candles.

“You sure about that Tony? The kid’s kinda paranoid when it comes to creepy crawlies.” Tony had learned when his resolve to bond led him to an idea involving spiders, behavior studies, and perhaps a little learning of Peter’s spider-like idiosyncrasies.

Tony liked the kid. He liked the kid a lot. One of best he’d ever met… and the kid obviously worshiped the ground he walked on. And every so often the kid’s shy, tentative exterior would break away and he’d be able to catch a glimpse of the snarky, fun-loving teen beneath it. But sometimes he wished he had more time to spend with him. Maybe then a level of trust and comfort could develop because at this point he felt very out of the loop when it came to important matters.

He was a busy man, he understood that. He understood that he couldn’t always be the one to run to his aid when he got into some trouble. That’s why he had Happy keeping an eye on him… He just wished the kid was more inclined to confide in him rather than the body-guard working under his payroll. Many times, he’d get a call from Happy in the middle of the night, half asleep and exhausted, to tell Tony the kid had found his way into some trouble again and he was requesting back up. It wasn’t that Tony minded the 2am wake up call… he just would have preferred listening to Peter’s voice instead of a grumpy old man’s with sleep apnea.

“Uh, Tony… the kid got hurt again. Just wanted to let you know… I’m bringing him to the med bay and he should be fixed up and back to business before you and Pepper get back from your trip.” Tony had listened to the message and immediately raced the suit back to New York, leaving a confused Pepper alone in their hotel room with a promise to return. And sure enough, as soon as he touched down on the landing pad and made it to the medical wing, Cho was already pulling out the IV from his arm and Happy was helping the kid stand. Tony remembered the exact moment the kid spotted him in the doorway. He was hoping for maybe a little surprise or excitement at his sudden appearance, but all he received was dread. “Mr. Stark,” he had said, “you didn’t have to come. I told Happy not to call you. It wasn’t a big deal.”

But the thing was that it was a big deal! A very big deal because the kid had been hurt and the kid hadn’t wanted him to know about it. 

Tony eventually just waved it off with an excuse claiming the kid just hadn’t wanted to inconvenience him again. It didn’t mean anything. Happy was the most logical person to call since Tony was out of the country. It didn’t mean anything. The kid wasn’t picking favorites… so that meant he couldn’t be jealous since there was no reason to be jealous.

Then, one evening while Happy was driving him and Pepper back to the Tower after their date night, a realization hit him. He was tired. Pepper was tired. And they were both drunk off their asses from the champagne and whiskey. Tony doesn’t remember what he said, but he does remember the sharp laugh that emitted from the front of the car. Happy had laughed… he had never heard Happy laugh before. That sound alone broke his drunken, giggly trance with Pepper and he was staring at Happy suspiciously, suddenly concerned that his driver had been guzzling some drinks of his own while he wasn’t watching, but Happy had waved him off. “It’s nothing Boss. I just remembered some silly joke the kid had texted me the other day.” The kid had texted Happy a joke… not because he was hurt, or needed to be picked up…. He hadn’t told Happy a joke simply to fill the silence in the car as they rode together to the Tower, or ate burgers and drank shakes at a lousy table in Burger King. Nope… the kid had gone out of his way to share something with Happy. “He calls ‘em Memes. They’re actually pretty funny.”

Pepper wasn’t so happy with him that night. His feathers had officially been ruffled and he brooded the rest of the night. Pepper had called it pouting, but so what?! Peter had picked a favorite and it wasn’t him… 

Despite his growing aversion to the sprouting relationship between Happy and the kid, he didn’t do anything to stop it. That is… until the last straw had been pulled when Happy tried taking a couple hours off. 

“The kid’s got a science fair today. He asked me to come and watch since his Aunt had to work.”

Long story short, Happy wasn’t the only one that went to watch Peter win first place.

“Mr. Stark,” Peter squeaked in surprise when Tony approached him, wearing a proud grin and eyeing the trophy in the kid’s hands. “What are- what are- what are you doin’ here?”

“Well, a little birdie told me about your science fair being today. I couldn’t miss out on that, could I? And really kid… really? You didn’t invite me? That one hurt. A stab to the back that was.”

Peter stammered out a long string of apologies and Tony clapped his shoulder with a lighthearted laugh, dusting off the trophy in Peter’s hands with the side of his index finger. “Don’t sweat it, kid. Now how about I take you out for some ice cream? I’ll break you outta this joint and we’ll have some fun.”

“Uh,” the kid’s eyes flickered over to Happy and Tony felt a small wave of jealousy rake over him. There he said it. He was jealous! He wanted the damn kid all to himself. He wanted to be the favorite. Was that so much to ask? 

“Nope. Don’t look at him. Just you and me. It’s my turn.”

Peter’s face breaks out into a shy smile and Tony can barely hear his answer over the loud chattering of kids surrounding them. “Uh, yeah… that would… I think that would be kinda nice.”

“Great,” Tony grins, throwing an arm around the boy’s shoulders to pull him closer. “I got the feeling that this is the start of something wonderful kid. Let’s go all out, huh? Ice cream, then back to the Tower for pizza, movies, and some more ice cream. We can watch Star Wars.” 

Tony didn’t think it was possible, but the kid’s smile grows even wider. “That sounds awesome Mr. Stark.”

“Sure does,” Tony smirked in triumph and shot Happy a patronizing wink over his shoulder. The man just rolled his eyes and Tony lead the kid out of the gym.

***

Tony’ would also like to happily report that after a month of his incessant demands for Peter’s attention and love, the kid felt it necessary to text him his very first 4 in the morning meme… 

… and Happy didn’t get one.

[curlytemple]

niche interests list 

okay sure yes this is fun! i havent posted a thing like this in such a long time. thank you new gal pal @scottspack for tagging me! 

pigs????

alright first lets throw it back to preschool! my fav childhood toys were my baby doll (snookums) and a plush pig that my grandma got me that i just called ‘pig’ ...i watched the babe movies countless times, and piglet? that anxious little guy GETS ME bro. when my preschool did a nativity play and my class got to choose an animal to be in baby jesus’ manger, my mother recalls me saying that i would be a pig because jewish people (jesus christ) wouldnt eat me. she has no idea how or when i learned about kosher foods. ironically despite my namesake i was too afraid of the movie charlotte’s web to watch it more than once because the scary farmer tries to kill wilbur for being small and the pretty spider dies. 

sugar creek gang 

OKAY this is a book series from the 40s-70s about a group of christian little boys in indiana who went on adventures in the woods and helped people. my dad read a LOT of chapter books to me as bedtime stories when i was little (see also the mandie series, nancy drew and the hardy boys, little house on the prairie) but sugar creek gang is one that really hit. i read all 36 books with dad and at least once again on my own. there was a series of 4 or 5 movies in the early 2000s when i was the Perfect age to have a crush on most if not all of them. this might be too much detail but i have to tell you about these boys. we WILL not be revisiting the heavy religious themes. 

 the narrator is bill who is Good and Kind and wants to be a doctor when he grows up. his best friend is a chubby boy nicknamed poetry because he memorizes and quotes poems, he is the Detective of the group. BIG JIM is the leader of the group who is supposed to be like, 14, which was very cool and hot, to me. and yes there is a little jim, who is the baby of the group. then there is CIRCUS who is known for his climbing and acrobatics, and his FIVE SISTERS AND BEAUTIFUL SINGING VOICE. dreamboy. i’m almost done listing boys, i promise. a boy called dragonfly who is allergic to everything and hella superstitious. later in the series a new boy named tom moves to town and tom has an older brother bob who is NOT A CHRISTIAN (bully) 

tangentially, the buttercream gang, a movie from 1992 that was almost definitely made by some christians who grew up reading the sugar creek gang series which i’m guessing on vibes alone. will spare you Good Boy details but scott is in love with his best friend pete who moves to chicago and falls in with a bad crowd and scott just refuses to stop LOVING HIM. very gay christian film in retrospect. 

peter pan

so i know liking disney’s peter pan isnt niche, but it was the way i liked it. tinker bell stan from day one, i watched all of those disney fairies movies, even the ones that came out after i was definitely not intended audience. there was an online pixie hollow game where you could design your own fairies and play mini games where you gathered dew drops or something. had a HUGE CRUSH on jeremy sumpter in peter pan (2003) then i got really darkly obsessed with the idea of growing up when i was 12 or 13, and everything peter pan was deeply My Shit for my entire adolescence. i read the original book and every other twisted version of the story i could find and seriously freaked myself out about wasting my youth. 

shug

you’ve probably heard of jenny han now, or at least the netflix adaptations for to all the boys i’ve loved before and the sequel ps i still love you (always and forever, lara jean, coming soon?) but before she wrote THOSE, she wrote my first ever Favorite Book, about annemarie “shug” wilcox, a girl in the summer before starting middle school. it is SO engraved on my heart i cannot explain. i felt so incredibly understood and cant even tell you how many times i read it. thinking about all of the ways it made me feel SEEN is actually making me very tender so i’m gonna go on.  

the summer series

on the subject of jenny han, since she was now my Favorite author, when she came out with the summer i turned pretty in 2009, i was ALL IN. it’s not summer without you, and we’ll always have summer were published the next two years. a coming of age series about a girl isabel “belly” conklin who stays at her mother’s best friend's house at the beach in the summers. i really could talk about it forever yall. i actually dont know how to be succinct about it. i will try. her mom’s friend has TWO BOYS. one brother, jeremiah, is the golden boy and her best friend who is in love with her! the older one CONRAD is her childhood crush who's just sort of around while belly is firmly getting over her childish feelings and going out and experiencing teen beach life with jeremiah for the first time and figuring out who she is and wants to be! by the end of the summer he admits he feels differently about her (hence belly internalizing this as The Summer I Turned Pretty) and they get together. this is already too much so i will just say that the next two books deal with a PROFOUND LOSS and the selfishness of grief and the SELFLESSNESS OF CONRAD and i will absolutely lose my shit if netflix picks it up for a second jenny han series adaptation. 

pappyland

this was a kids show in the 90′s that features a character named Pappy Drew-It, an artist dressed like a 49er who lives in a magic cabin in pappyland. there’s tons of characters and music and life lessons but the meat of every episode is a detailed drawing how-to (pappy is actually a cartoonist, michael cariglio) and i have a hard back cover sketch book from my grandpa that i FILLED with drawings that pappy and DOODLEBUG taught me to do. there is a running gag that pappy always breaks his crayons.  

boy meets world

i KNOW this is beloved by many but i’m counting it because i’m simply too young to have such an obsession with it! the show ran from 1992-2000. i was born in 1996, but reruns on the disney channel and abc family cemented it as one of my favorite shows. cory and shawn, closer than brothers, shameless homoromantics, shawn is cory’s first wife!!!!! truly showed me what a best friend can and should be!!!!!! the great love of your life!!!!! TOPANGA, the og weird feminist girl who said stop shaving your legs and start speaking your mind, ladies! the characters are so richly developed that they are real people to my heart. YES every character on this show is in their late 30s-early 40s and YES i feel like we grew up together. in season one they’re in the 6th grade and we follow them all the way to COLLEGE. countless poignant life lessons, often literally dictated by the wise and hilarious MR. FEENY, cory’s next door neighbor and somehow one of his teachers for YEARS. my love was only solidified by the 2014 girl meets world reboot, centered on cory and topanga’s daughter and her best friend. (which was literally cancelled because disney didn’t want to transition from a kids show to a teen show, something essential to the original. also because that teen show would have had CANON LESBIANS. extremely shameful move in 2017!) boy meets world lives rent free in my heart and i will never evict it!!!!!!!

i consulted my mother when i got stumped for more and she reminded me that i had obsessions with the impressionist art period and babies and ANYTHING fairies or pixies, and i was way too young when my love of the canadian teen after school special degrassi began. she also said bob ross, which i was hesitant to include because he’s been super ~trendy in recent years, but to be fair (To Be Faaairrr) she’s right! i don’t think people really watched the joy of painting as much as i have throughout my life. best sick day show of all time.

lastly i could honestly list anna herself as a niche interest, my mom actually metioned that ive always hyperfixated on my girl friends (gay) but i’ll just note that YES friday night lights, YES barry lyga novels. love to share so many things with you, niche or not, they’re niche in Our Mind.

[trashpandaorigins]

Understanding

After the events of Heaven Can Wait Groot must tell Bucky and Steve about Rocket....

*Contains Spoilers for Heaven Can Wait We’re Only Watching the Sky and other GRSB Scenes from a Life series*

…...In another hundred years this technology could be utilized in every country on earth. Bucky let out a small belch and took his gaze off the documentary and down to the empty ice cream container propped against his belly. Damn, all gone. He shrugged, turning back to the TV. There were many things in this century he was still getting used to, many things he didn’t like. But Netflix. Netflix was fantastic. He smiled to himself and licked the spook free of chocolate ice cream.

“Groot?” Bucky thought he heard Steve question from the other room.

“Steve is that…?”

“Yes, yes of course come on in,” Bucky knew that tone without seeing his face. He groaned, heaving himself to a sitting position on the couch as Groot lumbered in. He was taller, brown twigs stuck out of his limbs where leaves should have been. His eyes sunken and forlorn. Groot’s eyes slid to Bucky, then to the TV, narrowing. In a single motion the long wooden arm swiped up the remote and the screen clicked to black.

“Hey man, what gives?” Groot turned on his large feet and looked down at him with some unreadable look between remorse and a scowl.

“He said he had something to tell us,” Steve inferred, coming and standing beside him. Groot lifted his lithe fingers gesturing shortly with his hands in the ASL Steve had taught him.

“R….Rocket?” Bucky pieced out. “Where is the little fucker?” Groot signed again, this time slow deliberate.

“....d...dead?” Steve guessed with quite trepidation. The flora colossus nodded curtly.

“Yeah right,” Bucky scoffed, standing up and looking between the two of them. “I’m not buying it. He’s tried this before it’s not going to work.”

“Tried what?” Steve’s confusion redirected to him. Bucky only waved his good arm dismissively. “I’m not giving him anymore money”

“He faked his own death to get money off you?”

“Oh don’t worry I’ve done the same thing to him.” Bucky grinned impishly. “Only he falls for it every time!” Steve only raised a brow, folding his arms. “Ive been emotionally blackmailing Rocket  to extort him for money and weapons for years!” He forced a laugh, “That’s like the basis of our friendship.”

“Dare I ask how many times the two of you have done that to each other?”

“What!? I have to channel my impulsive violence somehow!” Steve cracked a smile that quickly diminished by Groot’s furious words,

“I am GROOT.”  Bucky huffed,

“Your not...you're not serious.” But the flora colossus only blinked, looking at him incredulously. It couldn’t be. He saw Rocket just a few months ago and the raccoonoid had been as scrappy as ever. Maybe a little worse for wear, some white fur encroaching on otherwise silky brown grey fur but that was to be expected. He was getting older, they were all gradually getting older.

“When?” Steve murmured, but Bucky hardly heard him. The severity of Groot’s words closing in on him. Rocket couldn’t be gone...that brash heat packing reckless thief had broken out of who knew how many prisons, (98 the last time Rocket bragged about it), he’d faced down a celestial, he helped defeat Thanos, he’d taken on baddies ten times his size! Hell he’d survived much the same torture Bucky himself had gone through. He couldn’t be...dead. Yet somehow looking at Groot, Bucky knew. No wonder the tree like creature looked miserable. His bark was flaking off in sloughs, his eyes not just sunken but exhausted and hollow. Bucky ran a hand over his face,

“Was he alone?” Bucky murmured, staring anywhere but those large dark eyes. Groot shook his head. “Was....was he in pain?” The flora’s frown deepened, large shoulders shrugging.

“You don’t know? What do you mean you don’t know?!” Bucky accused, stepping dangerously close. He shook with indignation, jaw clenched. So that was how it was going to be? Had Rocket had died in pain...trying to claw the metal out of his flesh? Was that to be his fate then too? A sharp throbbing at the stump of his shoulder where his own skin met metal was the only answer.

“I...a...am Groot,” Groot breathed, holding his arms out helplessly.

“How?” Bucky suppressed the growl in his voice. He watched Groot’s now trembling hands, slowly bending and forming the words.

“Age?” Steve guessed before Bucky could. No that isn’t right. If Rocket is going go down it should be fighting the biggest scariest space demon, going down in a blaze of gunfire pulling the largest heist the galaxy has ever scenes or tail deep in Asgardian whiskey in his room full of gold coins and units...anything but age. Age was too typical to calm for the thievish ringtail. Too mundane.

“I want to see him,” Bucky managed, still trying to grasp the news.

“I am Groot?” Groot signed with guarded rigidity.

“I don’t care,” Bucky bit his tongue before he could shout. “I want to see him.” Steve’s warm hand gripped his shoulder, steadying him.

“Buck...now might not be the best time to….”

“He was my friend too,” He measured Groot’s look of shielded sorrow with his own. Dark and challenging and righteous. The flora said nothing, but nodded, motioning for the two of them to follow.

---

Bucky marveled up at the Benatar’s arching iron ribs, so huge and yet graceful? Or at least it would be if there wasn’t trash thrown about, wires and exposed pipes in bad need of repair. Had Rocket really been gone that long? The sharp scent of too much axe mixed with the ichor of engine grease and weaponry and candy of all things. Groot guided them through the echoing halls to the main bridge.

“I am Groot,” he announced as Gamora, Quill, the bug lady, Nebula and the tattooed guy, turned to face them. Steve’s smile was almost as strained as his voice,

“Groot was kind enough to let us aboard...he told us...about Rocket. We were hoping to see him...to say goodbye.” Most of the time Steve’s running mouth got the two of them into a host of troubles but it was times like this Bucky was grateful for it. Quill planted his hands on his hips,

“Well, seeing as this is my ship. He really should have asked me first.But I’m feeling generous today so,”

Bucky tossed his hair from his face, instinctively reaching for his pistol. The man’s arrogance was unending.

“Cut the bullshit,” he hissed. “we’re here for Rocket. Not you. Get this ship  the air and take us to him and we’ll be on our way. It’s thanks to Rocket this thing is even flying at all” Quill’s mouth gaped like a fish, blinking mutely.

“We cannot take you to Rocket,” the tattooed man who’s name Bucky could not and did not really care to remember intoned, “There is nothing left of him. Besides his cybernetics. Fur and flesh will have rotted away by now.”   Nothing left of him besides his cybernetics. Sour churning bile rose within Bucky at the thought, he fought the urge to gag and redirected his murderous glare to the muscular alien.

“Planet X2 four systems away,” Gamora intervened before Quill could come up with some lame comeback. “It won’t take long. But you’ll want to find something to hold on to when we announce the jumps.”

“Thank you,” Steve answered for the two of them. Groot slid around the tattooed man and Mantis, taking a seat in the pilot’s chair and punching in the codes.

---

Bucky fiddled with the odd package in his hands, is this supposed to be food? It was impossible to tell what time it was from the endless void of space. The ship drifted forward with the similar movement of the naval ships he’d been aboard during the war. Smooth, with the occasional pitch and throw. Steve had sought out Nebula, the two of them not having seen each other since the battle with Thanos. Bucky thought he heard Steve mention Tony, thus he and cyborg woman had fell into a somber but good natured enough conversation. He found himself wandering the ship alone until coming upon the kitchen area. He gazed at the symbols on the metallic wrapped package and shrugged, sliding into the diner style booth against the wall.  

Footsteps alerted him to someone’s presence a few moments later. He craned his neck and watched the green woman stride in. She instantly looked at him with a passing curiosity and finally walked over to the table, sitting down on the opposite side.

“What happened?” Bucky broached the inevitable subject with what he hopped was sensitive respect. It was the elephant in the room and his morbid curiosity would not abate. Gamora kneaded her hands together. “Please, I can’t ask Groot,”

“Nor should you,” she quipped sharply, her eyes meeting his with a fierce protectiveness he knew too well. She held him there in that gaze for a moment before looking away, shoulders dropping. “There’s not much to tell. He just got old. It’s not like he took good care of himself. With the biology of a terran animal that only lives a few years...combined with the injuries he suffered and the untold volumes of alcohol...a history of insomnia…..it caught up with him.” Bucky bit his tongue, he could only imagine the aches and pains that were going to get his goat one day. Too many fights in too many narrow stairwells. Too many falls from too many heights.

“He...died….in pain…?” He repeated, clearing his throat.

“Yes.” Gamora answered, clinically. “Won’t we all?” She scrutinized him, the silver metal webbing etched into her flesh gleamed in the passing stars. Bucky looked at his own vibranium arm, rubbing it unconsciously with his good hand.

“Guess so,” he forced through the sudden lump in his throat. The confirmation of Rocket’s suffering riled in his stomach. “Why didn’t you take him to a medic?” He challenged, anger was easier than grief. “Your the Guardians of the fucking Galaxy, one of you must have known someone, someplace that could have fxed him!” His fists clenched, leaning forward against the table. “You could’ve taken him to Wakanda!” His voice rose in rage and helplessness.

“We did everything we could,” Gamora answered calmly. “And nothing that he didn’t want us to do.” Her eyes landed on Bucky’s arm. “He didn’t want to go to Wakanda,” she finished with a breath. Bucky watched her facade momentarily betray her. Like an expert, she hid it instantly, clearing her throat and looking down to fiddle with her rings.

“Who cares what he wants! It’s not like he had a choice at that point….” the words died in his throat and he covered his face with his good hand, forcing himself to breathe.  You know what sentience means Barnes?! Choices! I could make my own dast choices! The memory of Rocket’s words rang loudly in his ears.

“I’m sorry,” he finally managed, the fight gone from him. It was a stale sorry, forced and awkward and both of them knew it. But that was what you said didn’t you? When someone died and you didn’t know what else to say? It was sircumcript. Gamora’s frown only deepened. Her observation of him uncomfortably impeccable, scrutinizing him further with the eyes of a trained killer. Looking for any signs of hostility, identifying the places where he concealed his knives and the one gun he’d brought along just in case. Old habits die hard.

“Don’t let Groot bother you,” she continued as if she weren’t sizing him up. “He hasn’t been the same since…”

“Ahh,” Bucky leaned back, stretching his arms above his head. “I’m used to people treating me with contemptuous resentment. It’s better than the alternative.”

“What’s the alternative?”

“Murderous unadulterated loathing.” He smirked, “I have that effect on people. It’s a gift.” Gamora flashed a smile with a satisfied huff to boot. Bucky returned the grin, sharing the levity for a moment. She had a nice smile, rare but genuine.

“We don’t have much extra space,” she stood after a moment, back into her distant severity. “But you and Captain Rogers can settle down wherever.”

“Thanks,” Bucky nodded to her as she turned to go, halting in the doorway

“We’ll be on X2 in 10 hours terran time.”

---

Maybe it was because he was sleeping in a new place, surrounded by new people. Maybe it was because it had been a long time since he’d last had night terrors this bad and the universe just liked to fuck with him. Or maybe it was because the only other person to have nightmares like these was no longer dreaming at all. Whatever the reason, Bucky jolted awake in a sweaty daze, chest heaving, trying to shake away the feeling of prying gloved hands poking into his flesh.

“Buck,” Steve’s quiet voice beckoned him from the terrors, one arm sliding up his back, rubbing between his shoulders in small smooth circles.

“He didn’t deserve it Steve,” Bucky’s voice trembled. His fingers curled around the metal bench on which they’d squeezed themselves. “R...Rocket he didn’t deserve what they did to him.” He tried to suck air between words as if he was drowning. “he shouldn’t have died Steve, not like he did. Not...not with metal festering in his insides.”  Bucky’s breath came in ragged gasps no matter how hard he tried to settle himself.

“Bucky...shhh….” Steve tried, but the man continued.

“He didn’t deserve what happened to him...but...I, I did.” Bucky shut his eyes against it, trying to concentrate on Steve’s steady touch.

“What are you talking about?” Steve asked softly,  Bucky lifted his head from his hands, meeting Steve’s steady gaze with his own.

“I killed those people Steve,” he choked.

“That wasn’t you James, Hydra made you do those things,”  the fervor in Steve’s face spoke for itself but Bucky only let out a shuddering sigh.

“Not Hydra,” Bucky cut him off with more vitriol then he intended. “Before that,” he ran a clammy hand over his brow, silently praying none of the Guardians were awake. “I killed those men in the war...and when Hydra took me,” he leaned against Steve’s chest. “It wasn’t just brainwashing. They took that violence and just...enhanced it.” Bucky turned over his shoulder to look at Steve’s determined face. Still seeing the best in him, even after all he’d done. After everything the two of them had done. “Rocket was a little animal before they...c..created him...he was innocent. But...me...I…” he swallowed. “I was already a killer.” Steve opened his mouth to continue but Bucky leaned forward, kissing him roughly.

“I’ve killed more men than you,” Steve breathed, hoarse. “What does that make me?”

“I have killed more men than either of you. And women too. I am not sexist. I hold enormous respect for women.”  Steve and Bucky leapt up from their cot to see the large tattooed man emerge from the shadows.

“D...Drax!” Steve stepped between the Destroyer and Bucky. “That’s not what sexism….wait...how long have you been standing there?!”  The muscled man only looked between the two of them.

“Groot sent me to get you. We are approaching X2.” Without further assurance Drax turned on his heel, motioning for them to follow.

Out the window of the cockpit, still trying to calm his racing heart, Bucky gapped at the teeming planet before them. Enormous alone in the galaxy but for the stars and colored in a thousand shades of green.

“Hold onto your butts,” Quill smirked, slamming on the controls sending the ship speeding forward.

Steve hissed in shock, slamming his hand on a fake break,

“Fuck!” Bucky let out a small laugh, catching Steve around the waist as they plummeted closer to the surface.

---

Bucky did not know what to expect, but this certainly wasn’t it.  Trees of every shape and size covered the planet in a rainforest like density. Streams of clear water gilded around trunks and through spindly roots. He arched his neck to look upward at one of the four suns circling the planet, their rays of light streaming in gilded brilliance through the canopy. Flowers bloomed fragrant and bright along their path, giving of sweet scents the likes of which he had never smelled. Bucky looked over his shoulder to where Steve was gazing in wonderment, he knew the man well enough by now to know when he was suppressing the urge to whip out a sketchbook or notebook. Steve’s unfettered curiosity made Bucky grin despite their somber destination.

“Too bad you left your khaki shorts at home,” he couldn’t resist teasing, brushing a large fanned leaf out of the way. Steve smirked, stepping over a large low lying root. Bucky looked forward again, making out the top of Groot’s head through the dense foliage. Gamora followed him, then Drax and Mantis, who remained close to Nebula, clinging on the bionic woman’s arm. Pointedly, Peter had refused to go no matter how much Gamora had pressed him. The last place Bucky had seen the man before they set off was the main corridor, down which Quill lumbered, headphones on, going to brood no doubt. Bucky knew it was wrong to hate him for it, but something about the cowardice, set him smoldering.

Bucky ducked his head under a low hanging branch, stooping over and then stood.

“We’re here,” Gamora gestured to the clearing before them. A sloping hill arched upward to the edge of a drop off  overlooking the vast vista of forest and pools beyond. On the crest of the hill a noble sprawling tree grew strong and taunt, its large crown wide and full. The thick roots bore deep into the earth and spilling off the edge of the cliff.

“I am Groot,” Groot pointed towards the tree stoically. His face un-readable. He looked to Gamora who only nodded in confirmation, turning on her heel and walking towards the large tree. Bucky swallowed, mouth dry and turned to Steve.

“You still want to do this? No one will judge you if you don’t.” Bucky could feel Groot’s narrow gaze on him.

“Oh I know someone who will,” he smirked sarcastically and followed Gamora up the hill.

---

“There,” Gamora breathed now that they stood before the large tree. Something about the place made Bucky feel small and quiet, a hallowed ground of its own kind. The tree itself was no distinct species as far as Bucky could tell. He followed her eyes to a notch in the tree dark and perfect size for a small creature to curl up inside. He stood there a  moment, frozen in what to do. Not dissimilar to after he’d gone on a spree, after he’d murdered someone, taken someone out. Head in a fog, on the verge of running in a panic, fueled by nightmares and whatever else Hydra had pumped into his veins. This time however, he did not run away. Bucky reached out, fingers brushing the rough bark of the tree with the same hesitant tenderness he had used to touch Rocket’s fur. In their years of friendship Bucky had stroked Rocket’s fur a total of three times. (Besides the handful of occasions on which he’d grabbed hold of that ringed tail to yank Rocket out a jam in the heat of some drunken brawl or the target of some enemy five times his size). Once shortly after they met and it was revealed how alike the two of them were. The second time when he’d had to save the raccoon’s life by re-assembling his cybernetics, using the howling voices in his head to guide him and lastly when he had told Rocket the true nature of his creation. A prototype made by Hydra as a test run for making howlies.

Bucky willed himself to take a deep breath, resting his palm flat against the tree. What had Rocket done after this violent discovery? He’d curled up in the man’s lap, and  fallen asleep. It was a trust Bucky had not earned, had done nothing to deserve and yet, Rocket snored and slept content and Bucky hadn’t shut his eyes a wink that night in the dimly lit apartment. Instead he ran his  hand over the raccoonoid’s side rhythmically, letting the warm soft fur calm his mind and ease his fears.Watching as with each little breath of the sleeping creature, skin pulled tight across metal. Yet Rocket curled in his lap, not unlike an abused dog who finally came to rest content by your feet.

Bucky looked up, into the leafy crown of the tree, squinting his eyes against the sunlight. He swallowed, hand still resting against the tree. Stop being such a sap Barnes, Rocket’s husky voice mocked in his mind, laced with irritation. If only the raccoonoid would reprimand him now. A hundred different sarcastic cutting remarks ran through the man’s imagination. How Rocket would tease him if he could see the tears pressing against the back of Bucky’s eyes. He waited for it...for any grating laughter or flick of the tail. But no, he’d never hear that sarcastic voice again. Rocket would never make fun of him. They’d never spend another night at some dive bar getting increasingly drunk and daring each other into dumber and dumber acts of brazen stupidity. They’d never exchange weapons or old tales of battle. Rocket would never perch up on Groot’s shoulders or scream over a hail of gunfire in blood thirsty joy. They’d never look warily at each other, knowing the other had spent the night in a terrorizing nightmare. They’d never steal a sympathetic glance when they thought the other wasn’t looking especially during the drizzly days when the metal in their skin ached particularly bad, or during the sweltering heat and frigid cold. They would never share the shame of the things they’d become, the things they’d done. Guess I’m the only monster left. But if the little abomination could drift off peacefully...surrounded by a family he’d found in the arms of the person he loved most in all the world, then well, maybe there was some hope for Bucky after all. He could only hope for as much.

The spell broke after a moment, his hand slipped away and he stepped back gazing at the lush grass. Gamora, Drax, Mantis and Nebula stood some distance away lost in their own thoughts. Steve gave him a sad smile, squeezing his shoulder before stepping up to say his own goodbye. Bucky looked out across the immense forest, his gaze gliding in a haze over it’s beauty until he saw Groot. Back turned to the tree, form rigid and away from the others.

“I’m sorry I shoved you earlier,” he tried approaching the flora slowly. “If there’s anything you need or want….just...let me know.”

There’s nothing I need or want that you can give.

Bucky nodded, “I know...I just mean...well...if you ever want to…” his heart tried to find the words, muddling through the thick black tar of grief. “He was my friend too and….I know it’s obvious but...he really loved you.”

He loved you too.

“Ha, I don’t think….wait,” Bucky turned to the flora in slow comprehension. “Groot, I think I….I think I understood you. Wait say something again!” Groot turned to him, face still drawn but no longer contemptuous.

It’s about time,

“Ha! No shit! I’ve been trying to understand you for years!” A laugh broke through Bucky’s melancholy. How many hours had Rocket tried and subsequently failed to teach him?

Only when you truly listen do you begin to understand.

“Is that some zen buddhist saying or what? Shit,” he shook his head in disbelief. “I guess you're right!”

What is zen?

“Ask Quill later,” Bucky waved a dismissive hand and the two of them resumed their silence, gradually turning around to face the large tree where Rocket lay.

I guess he was right about one thing

“What’s that?”

He promised not to go until someone else could understand. I thought he meant them, Groot gestured to the other Guardians.  It seems I was wrong.  But Rocket was right after all. Those large eyes looked at Bucky with renewed appreciation. Bucky felt something inside him inflate, joy or sorrow or something in between he couldn’t quite tell. Maybe it was one in the same. He rubbed his eyes, watching the suns set against the magnificent tree casting a glowing golden light upon them all.

“Guess he was.”

[ferix-writes]

A Year of Writing FFXV

Wow, I can’t believe Ive been writing consistently for FFXV for over a year now. I love it so much! Seriously, I have never been more involved in a fandom or made so many friends. And having so many happy experiences led to a lot of inspiration and a lot more fics, I think. And here I am to share them all!

I keep seeing end of the year art memes and I think they’re really cool, but I was a little sad that there’s nothing like that for fanfic. So I decided to do something similar enough. But a lot longer lol.

Here’s every fic that contributed to the over 200,000 words of FFXV fanfic I wrote in 2017! Its a big mix of SFW, NSFW and many, many pairings. I hope you enjoyed this year of fandom as much as I did! And please don’t be afraid to spread the fandom love <3

Thanks to everyone for all the support!

More Than Words Can Wield The Matter - My big ‘ol drabble collection. SFW and NSFW and many pairings. Check the titles of each chapter for pairings and content.

January

Warmness and Affection -SFW, OT4, Noctis and Prompto get stuck in a snowstorm, so Gladio and Ignis must rescue them and deal with the aftermath.

Shotgun -SFW, Gen, Ignis is a very, very good driver. Prompto wants to drive the Regalia, but Ignis finds a better job for him.

Old Lullaby -SFW, OT4,  Gladio, Ignis and Prompto get hit with confusion and they start attacking everything and everyone, leaving Noct to fend for himself. 

Of Hair Colors and Gossip -SFW, OT4, A brief history of style and fashion in Lucis, and the royalty that inspired it.

Melt Into You -SFW, OT4 but mostly Gladnoct, The boys get massages at Galdin Quay's resort, but Noctis' doesn't go as planned. Cue Gladio taking care of him and lots of comfort.

February

No Need to Play Pretend -SFW, OT4, Five times someone figured out exactly what kind of relationship Noctis, Gladio, Ignis and Prompto have with each other, and one time someone actually tried to do something about it.

Sericeus -NSFW, OT4, Prompto, Gladio and Ignis want to get Noctis something nice for his birthday. Really nice. Like, there’s no price limit nice.

Aces Up Your Sleeve -SFW, Gen, Regis' first born always has been and always will be the light of his life. Transboy Noct comes out to his dad. 

March

Fit the Mold -SFW, Gen, Noctis suffers from chronic pain, but his princely duties slow down for no one. Fed up with Gladio's impossible training, he wishes Gladio could feel what it's like to live in his shoes. Just for one day.

Heart's Desire -SFW, OT4, Noctis has survived his ascension and Insomnia is rebuilding, but an important question lingers: Who will the new King marry? (Answer: Everyone)

Flowers in the Sun -NSFW, Promnis, Ignis finds one of Prompto's sex toys in the Regalia. Again. Iggy and transguy Prompto smut. 

Oversharing Blogger Liveblogs Dildo Debacle with Boyfriend in Hospital -NSFW, OT4, Gladio accidentally gets a dildo stuck inside him and his boyfriends are not helping.

Under My Skin -SFW, OT4,  Noctis takes a nasty hit from an MT and becomes temporarily paralyzed from the hips down. The boys struggle to find balance as Noctis pushes forward in his recovery.

Fire Walk With Me -SFW, OT4, Caffeine withdrawal hits Ignis hard and fast in one of the caves under Lucis and the boys deal with the fallout. 

April

Noct Up -NSFW, OT4,  The boys are all happily together, but one day Prompto hears Gladio saying some...choice things to Noctis during sex. For Gladio and Noct it may be a kink, but for Prompto it's a horrifying reality that he has no desire to face. Transguy Prompto.

I've Got Stamina -SFW, Gen, Cor visits the boys after the destruction of Altissa, and finds that Ignis is not being treated properly. Heavy focus on blind Iggy. 

By The Sword -NSFW, OT4, A sudden bout of depression hits Gladio hard as he finally gets to mourn while the other three try to make sense of their Shield’s complicated and tangled emotions. 

Unraveled -NSFW, Promptis, Transguy Noct has a desire and oral-fixated Prompto has a solution.

May

Kissing Game -SFW, OT4, The boys start playing a guessing game with Ignis after he loses his sight. Ignis doesn't mind playing along, because each of his lovers have such obvious tells.

Stay With Me -SFW, OT4, Prompto gets injured in the Crestholm Channels, so the boys must help him out of the depths of the sewer while his claustrophobia comes in waves.

Forget About Mine -SFW, OT4, ABO, Prompto is curious as to how each of their presentations went. Ignis' is a bit...abnormal.

Noctis and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Heat -NSFW, OT4, ABO, Noct has a rough heat, but his pack is there to help him, in all their unique ways.

A Royal Honor -NSFW, OT4, Noct finally bottoms for Gladio and bulge kink ensues. 

The Anchor -SFW, Gen, Noctis was diagnosed with autism at the young age of two. Now three, his therapists want to introduce him to a friend to help him develop his communication and social skills. Ignis, a shy six-year-old, just might be the perfect fit.

The Citizen's Crown -NSFW, OT4, Prompto takes a turn bottoming for Gladio and MORE bulge kink ensues. 

June

Petit Four -SFW, Promptio,  Prompto works in the Citadel as a server and part of the kitchen staff and he’s helping cater a large party one night. Long after the party is over, Mr. Amicitia phones the kitchen and requests a tray of desserts be brought up to his room... 

July

Partition -NSFW, Ignoct, “Driver,” Ignis leaned forward, smiling as he put a teasing lilt in his voice, “roll up the partition, please.”

August

Come What May -SFW, Ignoct, Transguy Noct,  INSOMNIA, Lucis- 9:32 AM- Sources confirm that His Highness Noctis Lucis Caelum and his Royal Advisor, Ignis Scientia, are in a committed relationship together—and have been for some time.

September 

Sleepless in Insomnia -SFW, OT4, Noctis and Prompto have been struggling to get a good night's sleep for years. Ignis and Gladio have been trying to help them find an answer, but nothing is working out. Ignis' latest idea is a unique blanket for the boys to share, but Noctis and Prompto aren't convinced.

Solace With You -NSFW, Gladnoct, Gladio returns from Gilgamesh's trial bruised and beaten, and the boys just barely get to him in time. After all is said and done he seeks comfort from Noctis, but the prince's emotions get the better of him.

Things Divine -NSFW, Gladnis, Transguy Ignis, Gladio and Ignis talk about what they want, explore each other, and get swept away. And they make mistakes, too.

October

(kinktober was a trip...)

A Matter of Time -SFW, OT4, Prompto tells Noctis about the rest of his life. Very sad. 

Pretty Little Things -NSFW, Lunyx, Nyx loves everything about Luna, inside and out.

Good & Tight -NSFW, Ignoct, Transguy Ignis, Ignis indulges in something so satisfying, so perfect...Noctis doesn't get to indulge in anything except Ignis' pleasure.

Sensory Pleasures -NSFW-ish, OT4, The boys bought one piece of lingerie, but one turned into two, and two into six...

Bound (Together) and Gagged -NSFW, IgLuna, Luna is content to keep all the pleasure to herself and watch her lover squirm below her.

Wet Dream -NSFW, Promptis, Prince Noctis buys himself a captured mercreature, though he isn't sure what to do with him.

Between a Shield and a Hard Place -NSFW, Gladnoct, ABO, Gladio quite literally rises to Noctis' challenge of holding him up against a wall and sucking him off at the same time.

Prompto's Amazing Alpha Powers -SFW, OT4, ABO, Prompto inadvertently proves that he’s a great alpha, and these 4 fools are a lot closer then any of them have realized.

Rosemary and Mint -NSFW, Promnis, Prompto trusts, and gives all of himself to Ignis. Sensory deprivation and waxplay. 

A Night Off -NSFW, Promptis, ABO, An eager Prompto just wants to help Noct, exhausted from caring for his first child, relax for a night. Lactation kink. 

Heat-aides -NSFW, Ignoct, ABO, With Prompto and Gladio away on Crownsguard business, Ignis and Noctis must find an easy way to ride out Noctis' heat together. They go shopping for some unique but very helpful little devices.

Man and Machine -NSFW, OT4, Noctis buys a sybian, and later on Ignis finds it. 

Impeccable -NSFW, IgLuna, Luna and Ignis sneak away from a party for some quick and dirty sex.

November

Desperate -NSFW, Gladnoct, Noct is being a bratty little shit, and he knows it. Spanking. 

Shield of the King -SFW, Gladnoct, One time Noct comforted Gladio, and one time Gladio comforted Noct. Set in Brotherhood and Post Canon, respectively.

December

Not Beyond Repair -NSFW, OT4, Noctis feels excluded from their recerntly established poly relationship and the boys find out they still have a lot to learn about each other. 

[isoboto]

Choking

I. I stopped sleeping since I moved back home.

I couldn't let my guard down, not with him so close in the living confinement. It was something in his presence. Something in the way he looked too fragile and soft against the backdrop, almost like he was made of layers of dust stacking painstakingly atop one another, a strong gust of wind and he would be blown to bits. Something in the way he tentatively tiptoed instead of walking normally by my (shut, locked, blocked, screwed shut) door, the way he fluttered at every noise or movements, the way his round, black pupils physically bulging out of his skull, the obsidian orbs glinted an eerie gray when caught a sliver of light, a million different pinprick disks refracting back. Looking. Twitching and tracking.

Like the allure of a nocturne, everything about him seemed to be preserved so perfectly that it was a bit wrong. A warped carbon copy of someone who no longer there. I stopped referring him by name (because to put a name onto something meant humanizing it. And he was not human—not human enough). His breathing was always a little too fast, a little too silent. His voice—a low high-pitched hum that seemed to consist of multiple whirring, buzzing, clicking—reminded me of the sound of moths' wings beating on my screen door mid-summer nights, clattering against black iron beams and glass. And his scent. Which was unnoticeable, but once you noticed it, it started to burn through everything else. Paradichlorobenzene. Pesticide. Bitter and musty and deadly.

The night was him and he was the night. Both were blinking. Waiting. Watching.

(And when night fell, I could feel the weight of his gaze reached out from the darkness and drilled through my skin. Calling for me to turn around and reach back for him. And sometimes, sometimes, I could feel cool phantom hands slipping beneath my shirt, spelling patterns across my flesh where silvery marks would be left in the morning.)

(I cowered my head between my knees and let him roam, never dare to glance back because I was terrified that instead of vanishing into nothingness like Eurydice, I'd bring him alive.) II. When the truck ran over his skull, the pain was a distant dream.

He told me that with a gentle voice, randomly out of the blue, the one day I accidentally left the door to my room ajar to make a quick cup of instant coffee. He was standing by my bed, his fingers danced across the stacks of engineer textbooks I haven't gone through. His small and pointy face—ashy despite the sepia autumn dusk filtering through the small window of my room—was dipped in the darkness as he turned to face me. Shorn hair, hunched shoulders, inkless skin against the picturesque landscape beyond the glass. He stood stoic still, perfectly framed in the centre by the windowsill, a ghastly frown curved the corner of his bowed lips.

(A warped carbon copy of someone who no longer there.)

He took a step forward, his short shadow peeled off the wall, racing toward me. And I steeled my spine (fighting against my instinct to fucking jump back and run. My stomach twisted and twisted and twisted until I'd blacked out from the internal pressure alone).

I grounded my teeth against the involuntary tremble.

"I'm still the same person who you loved," He whispered (No. He said. This was the first time his voice sounded steady and singular). His exhale warmed against my mouth. When he lifted chin, his eyes shone—the black pupils fluttered to a drab brown for a split second, almost the muted movement of a moth's flight (a sky full of black wings and blinking eyes). His fingertips raised and touched the underside of my jaws, trailing down the bumps of my throat. I jerked away. My eye muscles automatically spasmed. "I'm still the same person who jumped for you." His mouth twitched, caught somewhere between a satisfied smile and a painful sob.

(My pulse was choking me.)

Then he was gone.

My knees almost buckled.

(His skull was crushed, instantaneously. His brain was a glob of pink, throbbing, living creature splattered across the gravel. Gray ooze dripping into pools of red blood and white bones.)

(The trail of pungent naphthalene clogged my nostrils.) III. I began to notice the moths shadowing me.

Clinging to the window panels, fluttering around the porch light of houses I visited as potential new landlords. Perching on the ceilings, flitting about the night lectures, pressing between the ceases of many homework pages. I dreamt my body disintegrated into waves of moths and butterflies and woke up to the enoki-pine chanterelle tang of dead moths on my tongue, shaken.

(I thought it was him. I thought this was another of his tantrum, this was my punishment for attempting to shake him off. I thought if I went back and plead, they would stop coming. He would stop existing.)

(But they didn't. They kept showing up. More and more frequently until they were everywhere and at any given time I looked up and there would be another moth within my peripheral. More and more colourful and splendid until they stopped being just a reality under my bed and were also a daylight nightmare. It didn't matter if I shut the window or bar the door or pin my eyelids open all night. Blinked and there would be living moths writhing and squirming and blanketing over me.)

(He started appearing in my dreams. Often reaching out and yelling for me to take his hands, or running his palms down my face and neck and hair, butterfly kisses and moth-like touches.)

(I'd wake up puking the taste of paradichlorobenzene out of my system and shudder uncontrollably. I'd wake up, both hands noose around my neck where his hands should have been, where his hands should have leave purple marks. I'd wake up feeling so, so cold, because I could never see his face or hear his voice clearly but by God it's him and I knew that just like the moths, it was only a matter of time before he bled and solidified into real life.) IV. Million of flaming dried autumn leaves hailed down from the branches—fell from the sky in an endless stream—a vicious ruby-indigo colour of madness. The rush of crackling wings drowned the distant whirring, buzzing, clicking noise.

I opened my mouth. The enoki-pine chanterelle scent rushed in, pushing down my windpipe and filling up my lungs and eyes and ears, lighting a fire in my blood.

I jerked awake, choking and gagging with tears and snots running down my face, blinded and burning. Sheets twisted my limbs, cold sweats encased me whole. V. An icy hand caressed down the curve of my snape, brushing away the chilled sheen of condensation on my skin, each touch leaving a frigid fracture ran deep to the bones. Nimble fingers dragged up and down, digging channels between my hair locks.

"It's alright, don't be scared," The low high-pitched voice in the dark said. Crisp vowels, like the moths' nocturne. "I'm here with you. I won't let you go."

▬▬▬

posted on Wattpad on October 10, 2019. 

[badlittleace]

So I don’t know if it’s already been done but I did it lmao  Tagging @sunflowerwonho because I used your post (that video was just to cute to not make it into a taekook fic). Full story under the tab in case someone doesn’t have an AO3 acc.

“Uhm, are you sure about this?”

Jimin watched as his childhood best friend, Taehyung, meticulously handled his friend’s – Tae’s boyfriend – camera as they both walked into the nearest Starbucks. Coming to the café had become their own mini tradition as soon as they found out that it was a walking distance from their dorm. To their delight, the coffee served there was a lot more enjoyable, albeit a bit more expensive, than the dorm’s coffee no thanks to Kim Seokjin, who’s hands could create the most delicious of drinks and the best baked goods. It was also a nice welcomed change from the slightly freezing afternoon weather outside as the winter season picked up. It had come to the point where Jin already knew the exact drinks they wanted – Iced Skinny Mocha for Jimin and a White Chocolate Mocha plus a bean scone for Tae, please and thank you.

Taking a seat in the nearest booth after ordering their drinks, Taehyung only chuckled and raised the camera to snap a few pictures of the place, too enthralled to really answer Jimin. For someone who was majoring in studio art, Tae really enjoyed photography and could easily go into his own world when a camera was placed into his hands. Usually the poor thing came in the form of his smartphone but today, his victim was Jeongguk’s prized possession, his Canon Mark IV camera. It was no wonder to Jimin as to why Tae and Jeongguk got along and how they even came to meet.

The whole thing was rather sweet, almost too sweet in Jimin’s opinion. They both had been walking around the Student Services building on campus during freshmen orientation at the request of their advisor who asked if they could help give tours. After the freshmen they were responsible for made their way back to their buses, the two friends continued to hang around and Taehyung being himself began to take photos of the passersby. It was only until he accidentally bumped into someone that he stopped. The two had clicked instantly as soon as Tae saw Jeongguk’s camera hanging from his neck and from then they had been inseparable. He had later described it as “Jiminieeee I think I just met my soulmate” and Jimin faked gagged but laughed as Tae swiped over the few selfies he had taken with their new friend. That had been a year ago and their relationship was going strong. Jimin figured they’d never break away from their ‘honeymoon phase’ and could honestly only thank them because he met his own boyfriend, Yoongi, through Jeongguk.

Presently, Tae was still busy playing around with the camera settings and Jimin sighed, placing his chin on his hand, looking out the window to enjoy the scenery. Tae took the chance to photograph him and the flash went off before he could protest.

“Yah! This isn’t the time to take pictures, Tae. As your best friend, I’m trying to save you from getting brutally killed by your boyfriend.”

He huffed and the sound of laughter pulled both of their attention towards Jin who was making his way towards their booth with their drinks and Tae’s scone in hand. He carefully set everything down and sat next to them after making sure there were no new customers trailing in.

“So, what’s this I hear about Jeongguk killing Taehyung? What did Tae do this time?”

Tae choked on the piece of scone he had been chewing and took a large sip of his drink, sending a small pout towards Jin while Jimin giggled.

“This time? Hyung, I’m completely innocent here! Gukkie is the one who’s always pulling pranks so this time I’m going to get him back.”

Tae smiled triumphantly, looking over the camera he had set down on the table with almost a glow in his eyes.

“He’s planning on telling Jeongguk that he broke his camera as a prank, Jin hyung. The one camera he’s always bragging about and probably still paying off. Please, for the love of everything, explain to him why this could end up with him in a grave.”

As they were getting to know each other, both Taehyung and Jeongguk realized that both had a very competitive side but it was the latter who would constantly win the challenges they’d set up much to Tae’s chagrin. It didn’t help that Jeongguk had set up a YouTube account to showcase his works and his growing fanbase also led to him setting up an account where he played games and yes, put up videos of him pranking Taehyung. But since the youngest of the two had been slightly busy as of late, Tae had decided it was time to turn the tide to his favor and get his sweet, sweet revenge. He could practically taste it alongside the chocolatey goodness of his coffee.

Jin furrowed his brow as Jimin explained the situation and let out a small hum afterwards, rubbing his chin as he thought it over. Both Jimin and Tae figured he had gotten that small habit from Namjoon, the ever-philosophical boyfriend of Jin’s. It was cute and it reminded them how much of a mom and dad friend both Jin and Namjoon could be. Together with the entire group, they were practically a family: the parents and their five kids. Well, a platonic family seeing as half of them were dating each other.

“I mean, Jeongguk is pretty whipped–“

This earned another small choke from Tae and a small puff of laughter from Jimin.

“-but I’m not too sure about this. Didn’t he mention that he had a portfolio due in the next few days? He might react badly if he believes you broke his camera.”

Taehyung sighed and took another sip of his drink before pointing at the two of them.

“Why are you guys acting as if I’m actually going to break his camera? I’ll only let the prank run for a bit. Yea, he might be a little pissed but it’ll be fine once I tell him the truth. I’m even planning on recording it to prove it to you guys!”

Jin and Jimin looked at each other and collectively sighed. They knew how passionate Taehyung could get about something once he put his mind to it and figured that they’d probably get nowhere if they tried to convince him otherwise. They had learned that the hard way when Taehyung had come across a pet store while the group was shopping at their local mall. It had taken a nightmarish amount of convincing on their behalf and even then, Tae came out happily skipping with a new pet fish. They all agreed behind his back to never walk around that area of the mall ever again in fear that the next time he’d buy the entire store.

“By record, you mean so that you can put it up on that youtube channel, you liar.”

Jimin rolled his eyes and Tae smiled, not even minding one bit that he’d been caught.

“Well, just let us know how it goes so we know not to send the police over.”

----

“Okay guys aaaaaandd I think I’m done properly setting this up. Can you guys see the room?”

Taehyung stepped out of the way of the webcam and checked his phone to read the comments people were leaving on the video. He had ultimately decided to livestream everything and had turned to his trusty phone and YouTube app to do so because having a laptop open would ruin the prank. Tae had made sure everything was set up so that everyone watching could get a good view of the room which only really contained two beds – one which was his and the other was Jimin’s. Bless his chim chim for letting him use their dorm room for this prank. Of course, he had made sure to clean up as much as he possibly could so that no one could judge them but he also tried to not make it obvious or else Jeongguk would notice. As soon as he started to get confirmations from his viewers, he smiled and pulled a chair close to the webcam to sit in while he explained his elaborate plan.

“As you guys know, Gukkie is constantly pulling pranks on me sooooo today I decided to get him back! The prank is actually super small since I didn’t have time to really think of anything complicated but it does include this!”

He brought Jeongguk’s camera into view and smiled at the webcam as he continued.

“This is Gukkie’s camera and I had asked him to let me borrow it today while he was on a trip with a few of our friends. Its honestly his favorite, he carries it with him everywhere we go, and I’m pretty sure it was super expensive. I texted him earlier telling him to come to my dorm and as soon as he walks in, I’m going to tell him I broke it.”

He laughs and continues to check the comments as they fly by: some laughing alongside him and others, who knew about Jeongguk’s photography experience, expressing concern for his wellbeing. It struck Taehyung that some of the viewers had followed Jeongguk from his photography account to his entertainment one and it was nice to see how many of them were that loyal. He smiled and inwardly thanked them for supporting his Gukkie in all his interests.

“I don’t think Gukkie will get too mad at this so I’ll be fine. He might be a tough kookie,” he let out a small giggle at his own joke, “but I have the best doggy eyes to rival a puppy. He won’t know what’s coming his way.”

He grabbed the camera again and stood up, leaning towards the webcam and hiding it behind it.

“Okay so I’m putting it behind the webcam and I’m gonna cover both with some school stuff and a shirt and yes, don’t worry, I’m being extra careful not to put pressure on Jeongguk’s precious.”

Taehyung began to search through the room for some school materials, namely light things like folders and syllabi and grabbed his favorite jacket before making his way back to the webcam. He carefully rearranged the school things on top of the cameras first before bunching up his jacket and laying it on top. He sat back down on the chair, pleased to see that they were hidden well and did a quick wave.

“Can you guys still see? I tried to place thing around the lens of the webcam but let me know if anything is covered.”

Once again, after getting more confirmation that yes everyone could still see the room, he smiled and continued to explain his plan. Before he could get a word out, his phone loudly blared out Celine Dion’s voice smoothly singing How Does a Moment Last Forever and he quickly recognizes it as Jeongguk calling him. He holds up a finger to the webcam before getting up and answering the call.

“Hi Jeongguk. Hm? Yea, I’m at my dorm right now. In a few minutes? Yea, yea I’m here. No, nothing’s wrong… no you didn’t do anything wrong, you silly bunny. I’ll- I’ll let you know as soon as you get here, okay? Bye, love ya.”

As soon as he ended the call, Taehyung rushed to the seat and began digging through his pockets and took out a small bottle of eye drops.

“Okay, wow, somehow I pulled off sounding sad on the phone perfectly but I forgot to tell you guys that I’m gonna put some eye drops to make it seem like I’m crying. He’ll be here in a few and he’s probably rushing now so here goes nothing. Wish me good luck.”

He smiled once more at the webcam and dropped a few eye drops in each eye before making his way to his bed, silently looking through his phone. Not even a minute later, he heard a knock on the door and he made his way to open it, letting Jeongguk in and drop his things off. As he youngest was starting to unravel his scarf, Taehyung let out a small sniffle and flopped down on the bed again, making sure to keep his face turned away from Jeongguk. The latter froze and quickly looked at him and practically ran to Tae’s side.

“Hey, hey. Babe, what’s wrong?”

Jeongguk softly turned Tae’s face towards him and let out a small gasp when he saw that he was ‘crying’. A+ acting Taehyung, he was going to pull this off.

“It-s, it’s nothing, really…”

At the small voice crack, that even surprised him, Jeongguk pulled Taehyung close enough so that their noses were touching. Tae sniffled again and kept his eyes down, making some of the eye drops stick to his eyelashes and slowly make their way down his cheeks. He better be getting an Oscar after this.

“Did someone bother you today? Hyung, please tell me what’s wrong.”

Jeongguk let out a small whine, using the edge of his scarf to wipe at Tae’s cheeks. A small urge to laugh began to make its way up Tae’s throat and he quickly covered it with a sob and hid his face on Jeongguk’s shoulder.

“Hyung, please. Let me help you. I hate seeing you sad. I’ll start crying with you.”

He sniffled one more time before lifting his head to look at Gukkie.

“I… I accidentally broke your camera.”

He practically whispered it with a few sobs in between. Jeongguk looked at him and blinked once. Then again.

“Camera?”

Tae nodded and looked down.

“The- the one you let me borrow. I accident- ally broke it while at the café wi- with Jimin.”

He tried to hide his face again to make it more believable, and to hide the small smile that was trying to creep its way onto his face, but Jeongguk kept a hold on his cheeks.

“Taetae hyung, we can just take it to the repair shop, it’s okay.”

He shook his head as much as he possibly could with the way Jeongguk was holding him and thanked the god of eye drops for creating this brand because wow they really stuck to his lashes.

“I don’t think they can fix it, Gukkie… It’s completely smashed.”

“Smashed? How do you smash a camera?”

Taehyung let out a louder sob at that.

“I-I’m really s-sorry.”

Jeongguk, seeming to understand that he made matters worse, kneeled so that they were at eye level and began to wipe at Tae’s eyes.

“No, no, no, hyung, please don’t cry. It’s only a camera. It really isn’t that big of a deal, okay.”

He let out a small huff of laughter as Tae looked at him with pleading eyes. He would definitely choose Taehyung over a camera any day.

“It wasn’t even that good of a camera. I’ll get another one. I only care about you, babe. Please don’t cry over this.”

He pulled Tae closer to him again, making sure to pepper a few kisses on his face, starting with his nose and then his cheeks. By the end, Tae was softly laughing alongside him although he was still clutching at Jeongguk’s jacket. After a few seconds of silence, Tae spoke up again.

“I’ll buy you a new one. How much was this one?”

Jeongguk was already shaking his head before Tae could finish his question.

“No, hyung, it’s nothing to worry about. You don’t have to do that. It was an accident.”

“Yea, but don’t you have your portfolio due in a few days. Gukkie I can’t let you fail your class because of me.”

Jeongguk pressed Tae’s cheeks together and gave him a quick peck on the lips, smiling the entire time.

“I’ll just ask one of my classmates to let me borrow theirs. I do have friends, you know, aside from our group. They won’t mind.”

They both laughed at that and fell into a comfortable silence, with Jeongguk still kneeled in front of Taehyung. He grabbed his scarf again and wiped more tears away from Tae’s face, before taking it off completely to wrap around and pull Tae on his lap. The elder gasped and put his arms on Jeongguk’s shoulder to balance his weight so that he wouldn’t send Gukkie flat on his back.

“If something like this bothers you again, let me know, okay tae tae. I love you more than anything.”

Taehyung hid his face again but he was sure Jeongguk already saw the blossoming blush at the words.

“I do have one more thing to tell you, actually… a small favor.”

He said against Jeongguk’s neck.

“Do you want to borrow another camera?”

Tae snorted and lightly hit Gukkie in the arm.

“Yah! That’s so mean of you, Jeonggukie.”

“Ow, sorry, sorry. What’s the favor?”

Taehyung stood up, pulling Jeongguk up with him and made his way towards to where the webcam was at.

“Can you, maybe, wave a bit? Wave hi towards this direction.”

Jeongguk looked at him weirdly before awkwardly waving. Taehyung laughed at him and before Jeongguk could ask why he was, he reached over and pulled the camera from under his jacket and school materials. In the process, the webcam also came into view and Jeongguk looked at both in utter surprise.

“The camera… it isn’t broken?”

“Nope! Say hi to the viewers. You’ve just been prank'd!”

---

“I saw the whole thing online. You guys are such saps and I hate you both.”

Taehyung laughed as Jimin sipped on his coffee. The whole group was sitting at the Starbucks peacefully enjoying their drinks and talking about the prank.

“I did amazing and you’re just jealous I pulled it off. And you guys thought Gukkie was going to get mad.”

He turned towards Jeongguk who was sporting a pout at being bested. He had to admit, Taehyung had done a really good job. There was no way he would have been able to figure out that it was a prank.

“’I love you more than anything.’ Ahh, that was honestly so romantic. Namjoon, you need to step up your game.”

Jin looked over at Namjoon and he dreamily sighed. Jeongguk only blushed and hid his face in his hands while the rest of them laughed.

“I’m so getting you back, Taehyung.”

[punchesco]

i don’t know how many of you know/care about this and I don’t really give a shit, I’mona talk about Homestar Runner and how it Ruined My Life™. wh- yes, in 2017! this is my blog you fucking shitters i can talk about what ever the hell i want to!!

HR was a series of cratoons made in the early 2000′s that revolved around the Central Pillars of its Design Philosophy

snappy, absurdist writing

recurring gags

a strict weekly release schedule

dated pop culture references

alternate universes/alternate identities of characters

viewer interaction (to the extent that their emails could be read by and inspire Strong Bad’s various tomfoolery)

verbal chicanery, ie mispronunciations, spoonerisms, puns

recurring gags

a massive cast of characters, almost entirely voiced by one half of the fraternal creator duo. there was one (1) girl, voiced by the other brother’s wife (imho the reason why you don’t hear about it more on tumblr ,’:^y)

a trademark bend of sincerity and good-natured sarcasm.

recurring gags

it’s a fantastic, exceedingly charming series that i am DEEPLY ENRAGED at for three reasons. the first being because ive ingested such massive quantities of these videos. I’ve been consigned to a torturous eternity of accidentally bringing up references to videos that no living human has witnessed, making me look either crazy or stupid and usually both. the second is for the same reasons, I basically grew up into Strong Bad :/

the third reason is that, for a variety of factors including: the Brothers Chaps becoming respectable type animation business fellas on shows like Gravity Falls and Yo Gabba Gabba, the site’s reliance on the archaic Flash animating software, and complete absence of advertising outside of word of mouth, has led to the series slipping into a deep, peaceful slumber, with only the occasional Halloween or April Fools’ update. the chaps have mulled about the possibility of the show returning some day, but as time goes on it becomes clearer and clearer that this just ain’t prably gonna happen

all kidding aside, I completely understand their choice, and needing a break from something you create is something I can relate to. to keep a weekly release schedule for YEARS without interruption must have been absolutely exhausting. but it was that reliability to make me laugh is that’s why seeing HR’s star fade into dimness has been very melancholy and sobering, I don’t check the HR wiki anymore, seeing the number of days since update counting up...up...up was just too demoralizing. there have been extremely sporadic updates recently with the Chaps starting up a Youtube channel, but somehow the piecemeal updates just make things worse for me - they’re still funny, two decades after its inception, and it feels like they could pick it up again at any time with it being just as high quality, if not better than it used to be... but don’t

still, I can’t be too upset with it. after all, they gave us so much for so long and asked nothing but spelling errors to mock. it’s something i genuinely I bear a lot of love for. and consuming vast qualities of HR is something that has helped me get through some otherwise grey and dismal times. almost never fails to at least make me smile. if you’ve never watched them, most of the hits are up on their youtube channel, go watch em if you like a good CHUCKLE that’s generally not at the expense of anybody, except Strong Sad

anyway that’s my fuckin rec. oh by the way; me telling you all of this was predicated on you preemptively agreeing to not RUINING THIS for me, tumblr. thanks in advance you turgrippers

[vertigokrp-blog1]

SUBMITTED FOR YOUR APPROVAL:

The case of one Moon Xain, youth lost in the depths of countryside quaintness and simple delights. A 27-year-old spending days in the small suburbs of Muhan as COO of MEC, an upstanding citizen like many others in town. An unremarkable little story that takes odd turns when you take a second look. Because, in Muhan, nothing as it seems. In Muhan, you must trust no one.

        Moon Xain is one with the vertigo.

CONTENT WARNING.

Abuse, death, murder, graphic violence.

THE STORY.

i. 1997 The birth of his sisters marked the greatest tragedy of Xain’s life. Those “miracles” had killed his mother during birth and the seven year old hated them for it. Sitting outside on the squeaky brown bench, the little boy kicked his feet. There was a hush he couldn’t describe. Mixed feelings of sorrow and joy. An uncertainty that tainted the hollow air in it’s icy brilliance. He remained there for hours as paperwork was done. There were no balloons for his sisters birth, no celebration. Their birthday marked her death, and no one knew how to handle it.

How would he be safe now? Who would lovingly call him Saejoon and protect him from his father’s anger?

Xain glanced up and saw the Devil walking towards him with the baby girls in his arms and he cowered in fear as his father got closer and closer until his tight grip was on his arm, yanking him to his feet, and rushing him out the doors into the crisp winter air. His father wouldn’t hurt him yet. His father would do that in three months when he lost all sense of patience and needed to unleash his pent up anger. Xain would become his literal punching bag while Xana and Xaya would become pretentious princesses.

ii. 2002 Muhan. He had never heard of it before and he wasn’t interested, but there was a legacy buried there that united the twelve year old to the land of anomalies. His grandfather had retired there in a large mansion, surrounded by detailed landscaping and mounted on precision. Xain loved it. To him, that was what art was. Engraved with pain and years of hard work. He hoped one day he’d get it. He didn’t know his name was written on the will, and that under it, this beautiful place was signed to him from the beginning. The unknown heir to MEC, was already a heir to the legacy.

Xain has two months away from torture. Away from his father’s whips, his hard, calloused hand, his tough shoes, and harsh grip. For now, he could focus on the green grass, the flowers, the breeze and pretend he was normal when he was already a psychopath in training. He loved the way the flowers wilted more than he loved their blossom. Enjoyed trapping bugs under boxes and watching them suffocate. Such a small thing people would laugh at, which would slowly grow to become his obsession.

He heard a sound and the young teenager looked up, intrigued by what he saw. A young child holding his grandfather’s hand, led inside the living room, eyes just as hazel, as bright. Xain has seen him, and his dark gaze remains on the child, a spark of joy igniting when he notices the fidgeting and the uncomfortable expression strewn on their face. He suddenly cares to know more, and Xain digs, for days his fists are tight, and gaze is sharp, and the act of disinterest is strong.

On the twelfth day the reward pays off, and Xain discovered the young child to be his relative while overhearing a discussion not meant for his ears to catch.

The secret haunts him even when he leaves Muhan, and the questions rise.

Something mystic bubbles in his mind.

A seed plants.

iii. 2007 Xain had never feared death. He played life recklessly. Pain didn’t quite feel like pain, and fear was an act he held for the sake of his father. Now that he was dead, a small smile graced the boys gentle features. The seventeen year old held a bouncy ball in his hand as the menacing smile grew. He bounced it against the wall and floor with a full blown grin, and he couldn’t help, but laugh. Now in a brand new house much bigger than the last, Xain was on top of the world. The devil was sent back to hell, the demonic little girls were broken hearted in the room beside his and Xain laughed loudly until he was sure they could hear it.

He had faked tears the entire time he buried his father, but no one noticed the glint of delight that burned in his irises, the power that surged through him suddenly. They didn’t know it then, like the young man did, but everyone that day was in the presence of a God. Xain wanted to laugh so loud then, at them, at the corpse, at everything going one, and he did that when he returned hours later with the midnight disguising the villainy shrouded in every shadow on his face. “Burn in hell, you fucker,” he cursed, grinning.

This time, he had won.

iv. 2010 She had killed her. She had actually killed the one person Xain believed she could possibly love. He didn’t even want to look at Xana, yet he did when he walked into the hospital, his uncle towering beside the young girl who looked… Bored. When she met his gaze Xain couldn’t help but release the sinister smirk onto his face. He had always told the girls that they were born killers, but it seemed one of them was just more of a murderous being than the other. He had to admit, he was disappointed that it was Xaya who fell dead and not Xana. The former had always been more bearable.

The 13 year old in from of him had just killed her own sister in a martial arts training class. She had hit her twins so hard that she had knocked the life out of her and Xain slowly shook his head, surprisingly not surprised. Demons were meant to kill.

But wasn’t she lucky to have an uncle so dear. He covered it up the second the instructor informed him, and the news would now report how a horrible fall killed the Moon families dearest twin. Xain made sure that he had every T.V in the house changed to that channel for when they got back. The air felt shallow and warn, and Xain’s nerves sizzled in the desire to speak, but his mouth remained shut the entire time their uncle was around. The one who lowly whispered orders and advice to Xana. The behaviour she should inhibit, the attitude she should uphold, the broken heart she should fake and the pain she should pretend.

At the funeral he finally spoke to her, wanting to laugh at the tears running down Xana’s face. It was all fake, he knew that, but he still had to hold his act of pain as he buried another Moon member into the ground. A demon next to the devil, such a perfect ending.

Xain wrapped his arms around his sister, seeing the flash of cameras from the distance, and he could feel her stick to him, the act completely careful. He didn’t miss the way her nails dug into his back, wishing to break the material and sink into his skin, tear it apart. “Congratulations,” he muttered, “At least you get her inheritance.“

Though, he was the one who was left slightly stunned when she shifted her face and laughed lightly, “And what did you get? Nothing.“

Xain’s gaze hardened, and he tightened the hug until he was sure her ribs ached. “You’re a murderous bitch,” he muttered to her, eyes cold, and words even colder.

“And you’re a psychopath,” she wheezed before pulling away, brushing the tears that continued to fall down her cheeks.

Her tears weren’t fake, and he’d never know that.

That year marked another chilling memory: the birth of XERO.

v. 2015 Another successful year. Xain’s private company, XERO, was only growing stronger and stronger, and truthfully, it was thanks to Muhan. His shift here was sudden, dramatic, and certain. His grandfathers passing had landed him a large mansion to himself, and he now had warehouses scattered across the conservative community, employees trucking shipments out every week. It was the perfectly, magical place to grow, kill, and strive.

Xain inhaled the crisp air, mind reaching a different heaven.

He smiled at the people before him, the gathering of the bored, the interested, and the desperately hungry. Xain’s eyes scanned over the crowd who held their wine glasses, dressed in the most luxurious clothes they could afford, piling in from different regions of the world. His smile did not falter, and he raised his glass to a toast, “To Muhan,” he said aloud, his perfect features chilling and defined in a determination unwavering. “To Moon Energy Corporation, and zero mistakes.” He knew they could all feel it. The presence of real authority, the presence of a king— of a God, among Gods.

There was a secret which explained why he was in Muhan, it was simple, and convenient. He was here to take out the only threat, the last domino standing between him and the title of CEO. His smile did not falter as he watched his guests, eyes narrowing into a deathly mischievousness as he joined them, and mingled with them, gaze constantly flickering towards a special someone.

His cousin stood in the lounging area, unaware of the predator that inched closer day by day.

It was time to dominate.

THE TWIST.

“There’s something in the water, love,” he murmured, sitting by the river.

The girl whimpered behind him, tears streaking her cheeks, and Xain turned around, gun twirling between his fingers as he stared her. Cloth covering her eyes, gagging her mouth, bounding her wrists, and joining her ankles. She couldn’t see him or the beauty that she was a mere guest of, but he knew she could feel it. The wind, the grass beneath her, the buzzing insects that hummed in the sweet air. Death for her came in a blanket of spring, a touch of summer, and the faintest whisper of winter with the call of autumn too faint to decipher.

“My grandfather hid a secret from me, not noticing the curiosity that burned within my twelve year old self. He must’ve assumed that I wouldn’t care, and in all honesty, I did not think too much of it,” and Xain took a breath. “Then I became COO and suddenly it mattered very much to me, that young child united to me by blood. My love, do you understand what happens if the ones who despise me so much learn of that pathetic beings existence?” he questioned.

She shook her head, shoulders shaking. That lilac dress crisp and clean fitted her like the angel she thought she was, yet Xain saw it. The devil that lurked beneath, the desire that brought her to her decisions, and the deception she had delicately pieced together as if she could ever outsmart a man that had the entire world fooled. To be disloyal, and betray Xain like this only meant for one answer, and it was a calling that came often to those who dared to test the flames he was founded on.

“You are a fool, my dear. A failure who could not do the easiest job correct, and dared to stand frightened in the face of a reaper when the real killer, the real threat, was the one that had funded you with the smallest responsibility.” Xain closed his eyes, the edges of his fingers meeting with the cold water, the current moving past his skin in urgency.  

He thought back to it, what he had heard from his grandfather at his tender age. The secrets that endangered Xain, and the ties the young man had believed to have been non-existent. All the strings of his problems and stresses leading back to a singular figure that continued to breath and exist on the same Earth. There’s death in the water.

Xain’s eyes snapped open, and he pulled his hand away. She only needed to tell him the slightest details. It had been a very quick request, and one she betrayed the very second she had been set free.

He hated being disappointed.

“Would you like to know why I have brought you here?” he questioned, and he did not wait for an answer as he dragged her to the edge of the river, pushing her face close to the current. “To drown you in the same water you thrived upon,” then he plunged her under the water.

[ninetiescat]

the story of the start of an eating disorder

Trigger warning. Story below the read more.

I have so many messages to reply to I’m so sorry everyone; writing this has been good, finally getting words out

I didn’t realize they changed the DSM. I fell under EDNOS in IV, but in 5 the definition changed—anorexia nervosa now. I’ve earned my wings, dark black wings. Here we go.

Now that I’m home I don’t have anyone making sure that I eat, I don’t have access to much and when we go shopping I don’t ask for anything because I don’t know what I want, I have no lunch plans I can rely on, no one watches over me. This is the only time in my life I’ve been upset about it, genuinely upset. I don’t like this. You never know what you’ve got until it’s gone I guess.

I remember it all too well. I remember it. Water. I didn’t want to leave in the first place. I can still feel the vibe in the room. I remember parking and how it looked from the outside. That’s where it began. Just water. It was crowded and loud and yellow. My anxiety was high and I was sick as hell. I was against the wall. I was nauseous. There were too many people; it was too loud. My head was too loud. I wanted to go home. Sure it was part conscious defiance. It was about ten percent “I’ll show you.” The rest was “I feel like dying, so why aren’t you listening?” I remember the inside joke, just not its origin. I didn’t want it. I could be quiet and dissociate and not a bother. You didn’t need to yell at me. My anxiety was high and I was sick as hell. It felt like my skin was peeling off. I needed air. No one cared. I remember it all too well. That’s how it began. Five months later it was official. But that was when it began. But that was when it began. That was it. If only I had protested harder. If only I channeled my anxiety into throwing up. If only my words had meaning. If only you had protected me. You could’ve protected me. You should’ve protected me. Bullshit, it was all a cop out. It felt like I was drowning in air. I couldn’t do it. That ten percent dropped to zero. I was one hundred percent sick. I was one hundred percent terrified. I didn’t need a voice raised at me. I didn’t need your silence. I was fragile. I was learning how to not hate myself; I didn’t need more ammunition. I was fragile and susceptible to anything and everything. I didn’t want anything. Pass. Water. I was trapped. I was drowning. I can’t remember the root of the inside joke, just the friend it started with, an irrelevant detail, maybe never mentioned. After a long series of events I learned that zero in tennis is love, the only real love. I lost the notebook with my old lyrics in it—I remember taking it to practice and editing them on the fly, but I must’ve thrown it away with my hopes and dreams and all the cliché shit—but I wrote so much of love I could never have, all splattered in tears of the frustration buried in every line; “I wish I knew that you would save me, / but believing that’d be wrong.” “I’m at the end of the line. / You’ve run out of time.” “You should have made a choice / just before you were given a voice.” “You aren’t here to sing me lullabies / when I am filled with fright.” “All these things I have to say turn into these songs. / I’ve never seen love and I don’t believe in it because—” Oh heaven help me. That was the first and that was the last. Water. There’s no turning back. I guess I ran out of time. You could’ve stopped it. You could’ve stopped it all. You could’ve been there. You should’ve said something. My palate couldn’t handle it. My gag reflex was triggered. I was nauseous. Water was too much. Someone could’ve stopped it. A simple “don’t treat her that way” could’ve spared it all. Sure, maybe by the time April came I would’ve fallen victim anyway; maybe it was in my blood, burned into the back of my head, a section of my DNA; maybe it was lying beneath the surface waiting to be set off. I remember it all, stumbling out the door bleary-eyed 4am “Call 911” and “Please Don’t Go” memorizing the highways, the twists and turns, sights and songs; I remember it all. I stood on stage for two years with my stomach sucked in and sang the woes I could never speak; I couldn’t force the words out after I tried and instead of being respected was forced to eat. I’ve been choking on my emotions ever since, drowning. I feel limitless on stage; there’s nothing to hold back and no one to hold me—to hold me back or to hold me. I feel powerful, cue Ellie Goulding’s song. I wanted to say it all. I had so much to say. I was thoughtful. Hell, after years of unsaid thoughts, I had blood to spill all over stage, overflowing from my mouth, drowning, zero. I had so much to say; I lost my chance; I was sick; when will I have that chance again? You weren’t there when I sang the woes; I don’t even know if you know. I was trying to practice one night and slipped out of my chair; I’m glad I caught it on film. You should’ve been there. I was almost willing, you know? I was really close to being willing, wanting, making amends or something. Now it’s just bitterness burning a whole right through me. It’s acidic.

Yellow walls. Clear water. Zero in tennis, zero in all black, zero with my black wings tucked in. In therapy, way back at the start, I represented myself as a black caged bird in a blocked off room; it seemed right, it fit, it didn’t have an origin, or so I thought. It doesn’t matter now. I guess you never noticed how the light escaped my eyes every time you walked away. I sang those words at the top of my lungs, the top and all the way down, with the deepest breaths, all the way down. I remember it all. I kind of hate “The Light,” but it started as mine and then got a whole life of its own, a totally surreal blessing. I sang it on the happiest day of my life. I let the blood run free, spilled all over the stage, and I left my heart there. I was delirious. I’ve never felt more alone; being on stage is the loneliest, most powerful place to be. Damn, I wish you could’ve seen it. The air was so pure. Everything was so pure. Dreams came true, purity, I found heaven alone, with no one to celebrate with. People screamed, cheered, hugged, elated, and I stood by and watched on the outside. Encore, they said. Dreams came so true. I sang of love I never knew, watched on the outside. I wonder if you would’ve been proud. Do you even know? Spotlights are warm. I wore jeans the first time. It was a mistake. I was boiling alive under the lights singing my lungs out, spilling the bloody feelings everywhere. It’s funny—flash back to my first round, eight hundred, one light, black backdrop of heavy curtains, black shirt black skirt black shoes, I couldn’t make out any of the faces in the crowd but the song was sent out to you; I stared into the spotlight across the room, eyes burning, imagining that light was there with you beside it. I was so furious, enflamed, burned vexed, but I let it all out. I was sucking in my stomach. I only wanted water. I remember. The happiest day of my life, I wasn’t alone on stage, but microphone in hand, no one else exists, nothing else exists. I was, for all intents and purposes, alone. I wore jeans the first time, boiled, and didn’t do it again on my happiest day. It was powerful. I want to go back to that day so badly; I want that power again; I want to live that day again at this age and feel powerful over my eating disorder. I don’t feel like it controls my life, I’ve moved past that part of it, but it originated from exactly what I sing about, scream about, bleed about. I wrote “The Light” either right before or right after it all began; it hurts. Powerful. My second day in the psychiatric ward, Staff said I didn’t eat the day before, but I never noticed, I never experienced hunger. All of my rights were taken away from me, they would’ve forced me to eat if I didn’t nibble on my own, but they wouldn’t have made me feel like shit over that. No one there would’ve protected me, but that’ll always be different. I felt attacked, you know? The world against me. Food against me. Under attack. Zero. You’re supposed to understand. You were supposed to understand.

I relapsed into cutting and my eating disorder during this academic year; despite everything I did so well until I got pushed ever so slightly too much. December 4th I found peace walking the streets of Salem in the dark, walkways lit by stores’ Christmas lights before sunrise. I was cold and alone. The streets were my lonely stage. It was a gentle peace. My last cut was the 8th, but I kept torturing myself with my eating disorder, ripping it all apart, my silent disease. People with brown eyes and black hair must be destined to rip me apart by—well—everyone already knows. It’s all the same. Stumbling out the door bleary-eyed 4am memorizing the streets.

So I remember it all.

I remember it all.