#please yell at me. please come into my inbox and insult me/call me names tell me that i'm evil.

[tsukidrama]

the road not taken

{I Doubted If I Should Ever Come Back}

ᴀɴɴɪᴇ ʟᴇᴏɴʜᴀʀᴅᴛ x ғᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ / ᴄᴀɴᴏɴ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟɪᴀɴᴛ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢѕ: night terrors, manifestations of PTSD, references to (physical) abuse, suicidal ideation, angst, & hurt with very little comfort.

Chapter 9 - Bad Dreams 2: Electric Boogaloo

Summary: When Annie hits rock bottom, you're confronted with the realities of her childhood you don't like to think about.

cottagecanon | ao3 | wattpad | ♫

← Chapter 8 | Chapter 10 →

Word Count: 10.5k

Author’s Note: thank you all for being so patient! i truly adore the little community of fans this fic has attracted. it took me a little longer than usual to write this chapter because it was genuinely making me depressed irl - nothing too serious, but it was hard to depict the unhealthy headspace that reader is currently in. so happy this chapter is over! if you haven't read it yet, i started a companion piece that goes along with this fic. linking below.

off the beaten path

Annie looks at you with an amused smirk. 

“I’ve been trying to tell you for weeks now,” you insist, “You just don’t believe me, still.”

She shakes her head. “Okay, so who is she, then?” 

You falter. “Well, I’m not sure, actually…” you admit. Annoyingly, it only adds to the argument against you. 

“...because she’s not real,” Annie finishes. 

“No!” you protest yet again, “She was real, and she brought him a bunch of crap. You know how sometimes he comes home from town with a basketful of random shit?” 

She nods. 

You’ve been thinking about that encounter ever since it happened, and you’ve had time to formulate your own theories. 

“She’s got to have some kind of a connection to the place where he gets that crap. Maybe they met there, or she works there,” you say, even though Annie looks disbelieving. “I think it would be a lot weirder if she didn’t have any connection to the stuff. Then I’d really be suspicious.”

At first, all she does is stare. After a few moments when you don’t back down, she laughs again – guffaws, really. It’s the most amusement she’s gotten out of something since she’s been back. 

“You’re persistent, I’ll give you that,” she chuckles, and goes as far to wipe a tear of laughter from her eyes. 

And again you groan. “I’m not making it up!” 

She doesn’t even entertain the idea. Every time you try to bring it up she has the same reaction, barely giving you the time of day. 

Eventually, you just drop the topic entirely. You do however stay on top of watching Papa a little more closely than usual. Unfortunately nothing of interest happens in those first few weeks. 

However, it doesn’t take long for you to realize that the only person acting odd is Annie herself. One night during dinner, there’s a particularly worrying interaction. 

“Could you pass the potatoes?” she asks. It’s the first thing anyone has said in a while, so it almost makes you jump. 

Somehow in the time that she had been gone, you forgot that Leonhardt family dinner was a silent affair. On your own with either one of them, you could get them to open up. When it was you and Papa, you’d talked more during meals than you did anywhere else (maybe the barn, too, towards the end there). 

That wasn’t ever your life. As a child, the dinner table was the center of the house. Dinner was a conversational affair, always. You would be asked about your day or about school. In the best years of your life, you would often sit at the table for hours, talking with your grandparents long after you had finished your plate. 

But when all three of you are sitting at a table, it’s dead silent. They outnumber you and the silence wins. Before Annie left, you had gotten used to it. You’ll get used to it again in time. It went without saying that this was just the norm between the two of them, that Anine’s childhood had been spent in silent dinners. 

It was really lonely. Especially considering that you had gotten used to otherwise. So whenever Annie stops eating and starts talking, it catches both of you off guard before you even hear what it is that she says. 

“Do either of you ever think about where we’d be buried if we die?”

Papa’s eyes widen to the size of saucers. And shockingly, that happens to be one of the few things she could’ve said that leaves you too stunned to reply. 

She looks back and forth between the two of you before she shrugs and looks back down. “I hadn’t ever thought about it before recently,” she mutters, “Warriors didn’t get graves.”

Her dad’s face is completely drained of blood. You realize that his hands are shaking when the fork in his hand trembles, then clatters against his plate. This reaction is what sets you in motion again to redirect the conversation. 

“That’s not something that any of us need to think about right now,” you say decisively. “You and I are young and all three of us are healthy.” 

Annie nods with her brow furrowed, like she hadn’t considered that before. “I know that. I was just wondering, really.” 

Finally, Papa breaks his silence. “Okay, well, don’t,” he snaps, “Got it?” Despite the intensity that he says it with, it’s crystal clear that his emotion is coming from fear rather than anger. 

She nods again to show her understanding, though she deflates a little bit as she goes back to pushing her food around her plate. 

Nobody says anything for the rest of the meal, though the mood of the silence changes considerably after that. You’re on edge the whole time, mostly worried that one of them might lash out in pure emotion and the other misinterprets it for anger. 

Is it lucky or unlucky that they both shove their feelings down? You swear that you watch the process of each of them controlling their facial expressions carefully before they revert back to apathy. 

Neither of them cleans up their spot at the table. Papa stabs his remaining brussel sprouts and shoves them in his mouth, angrily stomping off out of the back door with his mouth full of food. At least he eats them – Annie stays at the table with you for another ten minutes, but she just continues to push her food into a different spot. 

You want to ask her if she’s alright, but you also don’t want to make her feel like she’s made anything weird. For once, you’re not sure what you should say. All you can think of is the laundry list of things of things you want to avoid saying. 

It takes so long and you come up so short that Annie is the one to finally break the silence once it becomes unbearable. 

“Maybe he should get a girlfriend…” she mutters, “If that would make him chill the fuck out for once.”

You nod so that she feels like you’re on her side. What you really want to do is point out that maye he had a point to be concerned. It wasn’t like her to bring up the topic of death so suddenly, not since you’d left Paradis and the curse ended. 

It didn’t feel like a good sign that she was talking about death from the start, but when you think about it compared to some of the stuff she’d said as a teenager you can’t find it in you to call her out. It doesn’t raise enough red flags with you that you’re particularly concerned about her state of mind, given the fact that she acts normal with you for the rest of the night. 

She’s a little quiet maybe, but she’s as affectionate as always. After you both get ready for bed she lies down with a book, and you curl up on her shoulder reading along from the side. A few chapters in you feel yourself getting tired and falling asleep on top of her, and she’s attentive enough to wake you up just enough to reposition you comfortably. 

There’s a smile on your face. The last thing you expect is for things to go off the rails, but of course life has a special way of kicking you in the ass when you’re least expecting it. 

You sleep hard that night. It feels so safe when Annie’s arms are around you and the cats snuggle in, that you let your guard down. You’re so comfortable that you fall into a much deeper sleep than you intend to. 

At some point, you’re roused from sleep, but the heaviness in your eyelids is too strong to resist. You’re vaguely aware of Annie moving beside you, but you shake off the disturbance and flip over to scoop Donut into your embrace. It’s actually only due to his claws sinking into your arm that you wake up all the way. 

“Ah fuck, nice paws – no claws,” you chide him, removing each of the tiny daggers from your skin. “Damn it, please chill out, Donut…” 

You open your eyes and sit up, losing your grip on the squirmy cat. He darts away, slinking into the shadows of the room. Only when you turn do you realize that you’re alone in bed – actually, you’re alone in the room, you realize when you glance around. Annie is nowhere to be found. 

Ah, shit. Her weird comments about death and burial from earlier that night flash in the forefront of your mind and immediately, you fear the worst. You nearly leap out of bed to check the balcony and the bathroom, and any corner of the room where she could conceivably be tucked away in. 

She’s not upstairs. There’s nothing out of place. 

The only clue to her whereabouts comes from a sound down the stairwell. The door to downstairs is wide open, and something clatters like it was knocked off of a shelf or table to thunk on the hardwood floor. 

Oh, no. Please, no. 

Your heart is in your throat as you throw on some clothes. Please, please let her just be getting a snack downstairs. The Siamese yowls at you from the bottom of the steps, probably hungry herself. You shoo her away. There are clearly more pressing things than feeding the cats right now. Fucking cats…

The kitchen is empty with the inner door open and the screen door swinging in the wind. There’s a noise in the garden, a rhythmic thumping with an odd echo that reverberates between the three buildings surrounding the area. The bad feeling that’s pulling your guts down gets so much worse when you realize that ‘echo’ you’re hearing isn’t a reflection of another noise at al, but rather quiet sobbing. 

More or less, you know what you’re walking into. Some kind of horrible nightmare manifesting in a weird way. Had she ever run out of the house before? You wrack your brains and the answer comes up no. She’s made it onto the balcony and even down the stairs, but never even onto the bottom floor, really. 

Nothing that you couldn’t fix by just pulling her back into the room afterwards. Nothing that had overwhelmed you so much you don’t know how to handle it. All of that changes tonight. 

She’s standing on the edge of the garden, kicking the shit out of the part of the fence next to the picnic table, the part that cuts out to divide the garden. She’s really pummeling the crap out of it, to the point where the wood begins to splinter. You notice that not only is she still in a sports bra and pajama shorts, but she’s also not wearing any shoes. 

Her bare foot comes down on the fence and it breaks altogether. She rips the fence post out of the ground and throws it off to the side, then graduates to pulling at individual boards. Grunting with effort amidst her crying, she dismantles it piece by piece. 

After the nose incident and talking about it was Papa, you know better than to intervene. Especially not when there are shards of wood and god knows what else flying around. So instead you remain at the bottom of the ramp crouched in shadow.

This was everything you were afraid of since she came back. You start to get a little overwhelmed by emotion, but you’re still not sure what she’s triggered about. Before you take action you need to know what you’re dealing with, to see what she’s having a nightmare about in the first place. 

You try to get closer without making any sound. Annie isn’t talking, just crying, shouting every so often, but it’s not words. After she’s ripped apart the fence as much as it will budge, she kicks aside one of the chairs. 

When she tries to get a new angle on beating the fence, she ends up backing up right into the tree, and from the sound of it, she smacks into it quite hard – you audibly wince at the thwacking noise her skull makes against the bark. Her crying grows more frantic, and you can finally hear what she’s saying clearly as she cries out to defend herself. 

“No… I’m sorry. I wasn’t slacking off,” she whimpers, “I’m not taking a break… No sir! … okay, yes… I will.” Her voice shakes, and she falls to the ground as she scrambles away from the tree. 

There’s no metaphorical expression that can describe the way it feels when it hits you. You might as well have been punched in the gut with the way it twists. You’re nauseous and dizzy and in shambles. 

“I’m sorry,” she sobs, “I won’t do it again…”

Hearing those words coming out of her mouth fogs your brain up so badly that you just stand there stunned for a few moments. This is the one thing that you can’t handle, the one thing that breaks you more than anything else. No matter how hard you try, you can’t address this with a clear head. 

Annie pulls herself to her feet, and all of a sudden to your horror, she kicks up one of the tomato plants. It goes flying through the air. In quick succession, she kicks down the entire row of plants. Bell peppers, then squash, then eggplants go flying in every direction. Some are entirely uprooted while others are kicked like a soccer ball. 

She smacks into the tree again, and it triggers another episode of hysterics. The crying starts up anew, with another sputtering of apologies and half-coherent begging. “[more horrible dialogue]”

Half of it isn’t ready to harvest yet, not as if that matters to the nightmare. Cabbage, lettuce, kale, and cauliflower all go flying around and break apart on impact. Seeing her physically rip the garden to shreds is what tips you over the edge. 

You swallow the sickness you’re feeling and slink along the fence as you creep toward the en suite. You can’t do this alone. Desperately, you wrap your knuckles against the glass of Papa’s window. It’s a lot louder than you anticipated so you duck into the shadows in fear that Annie heard you.

If she did, she doesn’t react to it. She continues screaming and kicking, spinning quickly on her feet amongst the destroyed plants. You start banging on the door now, rather insistently, until you hear rustling on the other end. 

You keep knocking even when you hear him, though a little bit more softly. Only do you stop when you hear the lock disengaging. 

The door creaks open and Papa peeks out groggily. He looks confused at first, but the second he registers that it’s you, the bleary look on his face disappears. 

“What happened?” he asks, his gaze sharpening. 

You can’t even get any words out. As soon as your mouth opens you just start sobbing. Papa is expectedly taken aback by it. His eyes widen, though by his standards you know he’s trying to control his face. He reaches out for you but then freezes in place, unsure of what to do, and flounders for a moment. 

His expression grows unreadable as you watch the worst-case scenarios flash in his mind. He looks genuinely worried as he swallows hard. You can literally the recollection of her weird comments at dinnertime dawn on him, and worry floods his expression, “...she’s not?” 

“No, not like that,” you blubber, “but I didn’t know what to do.” 

Eventually, you manage to point out in the garden as you choke on another sob. Finally, it seems to sink in for him what’s happening when Annie once again bumps into the tree and shrieks, sobbing and promising that she’ll do better. 

When you turn, you see that she’s back in the middle of the garden ripping plants straight out of the ground and hurling them against the side of the barn. Dirt splatters against the red painted wood, noisily thunking with each collision. 

You look back to Papa to see his reaction. Maybe you shouldn’t be surprised by the blank look on his face, but you are a little disappointed. Right now, you need him to be there for you. Well, what are you expecting from him exactly? After all, it is Papa. You feel bitter tears forming in your eyes as you start to realize it might be a futile effort. 

A shower of dirt rains down from a few feet away. You jump in surprise, whirling around to see that Annie’s aim has now reached the en suite. Some onions thud against the bricks again, and this time the dirt that flies off hits the both of you. 

Only the third time do you realize that Papa is somewhat frozen. A hard handful sails across the garden directly toward you, and all of a sudden the instincts you learned during that annoying month and a half where deflecting random shit became a regular thing for you. Soil rains down all over your body but you manage to successfully block whatever vegetables – radishes, maybe? – that she’d hurled over. 

Finally, it seems like Papa fully realizes that you need help. You cry out in shock and disgust, and the squealing as you try to shake off the dirt must bring him back into reality. He grabs you by the upper arm and yanks you inside his room before the next vegetable comes flying by a few seconds later. 

He shuts the door and all at once, every emotion hits you at once. It’s like as soon as you’re physically separated from the event, you start to process it. The full effect of seeing Annie in this worst-case scenario, your inability to deal with it, the fact that you had to admit that, and the fact that you’re hiding when you feel like she needs you. 

You completely lose your shit. Tears flow down your face as you blubber hopelessly. “I should’ve brought her back to bed before she was able to make it out here. I usually wake up – I don’t know how I slept through it. Is this my fault?”

“Stop that right now,” he demands, placing a hand on your shoulder, “No way this is your fault. This isn’t your mess to clean up. You were right to come to me, okay?” 

You start out sniveling, balling your hands up into fists so hard that your fingernails dig into your palms. Words don’t come out. 

“Did she hurt herself?” he asks seriously. His grip on your shoulder unintentionally tightens. 

Immediately, you shake your head. “Not beyond whatever she did to the fence. Maybe some bruises… I don’t know. Nothing intentional, if that’s what you’re asking.” 

And though Papa looks a little bit relieved, he’s still very tense. Right now he looks older than you’ve ever seen him. 

Your lip trembles as you try to say more, but what ends up coming out is so shaky that it’s nearly inaudible. “I just… god, I feel so fucking useless. I can’t help her.” 

“You’ve done a lot for her already, more than anybody else ever has,” her dad tells you, and he begins to shepherd you towards the nearby armchair. “More than I ever have, too. You never should have felt responsible for this burden. This is all on me. I need to know that you understand that.” 

More tears overwhelm you. Papa stops trying to guide you when you start to stagger. Instead, he just pulls you into a hug. 

Something broken inside of you cracks further as emotions you didn’t realize you still had come back to haunt you. You feel terrified and inadequate and like you should have done something different, or better. Is he sure that this isn’t your doing? 

The choked-back emotion suddenly becomes too much, and once again you’re sobbing. “No,” is all you’re able to get out this time, “no, no.” You say over and over again. Your vision tunnels and your limbs go weak as you start to hyperventilate. 

“Yes,” he tells you, firmly, “You’ve done a good job for a long time. Do you hear me?” 

You nod, out of instinct more than anything. It doesn’t feel like you’ve been doing anything at all. Maybe you just don’t know how to accept praise anymore. 

He pats your head affectionately, albeit a bit awkwardly. “I want you to try and let this go after tonight…It’s time I took responsibility for my actions. It’s my fault after all. There’s nothing you can do to help her.” 

Whatever endorphins that the hug releases in your brain are enough to physically calm you down enough that you can breathe a little easier. “So what am I supposed to do then?” 

“All you need to do is stay here in this chair. I’ll come to get you when it’s over.” 

Before he releases you, Papa sighs. He waits until your sobs have calmed before he lets you go with a comforting pat on your back, and then he guides you down into the large cushy armchair next to his dresser. 

He takes a moment to grab a blanket from the trunk at the end of the bed. He unfolds it halfway before draping it around your shoulders. It’s a little bit haphazard, but the gesture is received all the same. 

Now that you’re a little calmer, you let yourself relax. He adjusts the blanket around you to tuck you in, then pushes your hair out of your face. 

“Stay here,” he repeats. He looks at you with more concern in his eyes than you’ve ever seen before as he tries to read your expression. 

You sigh, and the remnants of your sobs rattle your breath. Eventually, you nod your head. 

“Okay…” you agree, and then nervously add: “Don’t take too long.” You’re not sure where it comes from. 

Papa nods, and his eyebrows knit together with emotion. “Of course not.” 

You hadn’t realized you’d had so much tension in your body still until it releases. You slump down in the chair and release a sigh – also one you didn’t realize you’d held in. 

Whenever he rises back up to his feet, he lets out an old-man grunt of effort. He hasn’t even gone outside yet and it’s obvious that he’s exhausted. Not that you can blame him, of course. And though you’d stopped counting after a while, just a few months had run you ragged. What must it be like to have your existence whittled down to the worst things you’ve done, no matter how hard you try and fix the mistakes of the past? 

It’s not like he doesn’t deserve it. He certainly reaps what he sows, but regardless you don’t envy the twenty-something-odd years of baggage that he’s carried with him all this time. He’s dug himself a hole so treacherous that he’s the only one capable of navigating out of it unharmed at this point. It must be daunting.  

Before he leaves, he takes a moment to pull himself together. You don’t think he knows that you can see around the blankets based on the way he lets his facade crack. His face visibility breaks as emotions overcome him. He takes a moment to compose himself, wiping at his eyes viciously and pushes down all his feelings.  

You recognize it all too well – of course that’s where Annie got it from. 

It makes you so genuinely sad to see Papa struggling that it sends you into another bout of hysterics. You hold it in just as long as it takes for him to leave, but as soon as the door closes you make no effort to quell your sobs anymore. 

The moment that you let the flood loose, you’re swept away in it. It’s overwhelming in the worst possible way. 

You’re plagued by the uncertainty you feel, and for a moment your brain runs wild. 

Is this really what this life has turned into? Is this actually happening to you right now? It started out so idealistic and felt so right… How could something so genuine have devolved into something that feels like a nightmare of your own? Sometimes you wonder if that’s all this is – maybe Annie was never the one with the issue. You’re the one stuck and you can’t escape. If you squeezed your eyes shut tightly enough, then maybe you can force yourself to wake up. 

Wherever, whenever you end up has got to be better than this. The things you’ve experienced in the past were objectively worse than having your girlfriend freak out on you… But it really wasn’t just that anymore, was it? 

It started before she even left, you realize. The first time you felt this way was when she found out she had to go back to Paradis. You’d been so afraid that you were going to lose her that you couldn’t recognize that she was already gone. 

She was gone the minute she knew she’d have to go back. You put your best effort forward and still, you watched as she slipped through your fingers. 

How the fuck could that NOT be your fault? How could you not blame yourself? 

It feels like the life you’ve spent so much time and effort building out here might fall apart, and you’re sickened that it makes you nostalgic for the time she spent in the crystal. At least back then, you didn’t know what it was like. Now that you’ve experienced a taste of the domestic happiness you wanted so badly with her for all those years, you can’t imagine living without it. 

You’re not entirely sure what exactly scares you so much. It’s not like you’re going to be kicked out onto the street. Annie is more than your significant other, she’s your everything. When something happens to you, she’s the first person you want to tell. You tell her everything. She’s the only person in the world who knows everything about you, and you’re the only one who knows everything about her. 

For so long you turned to one another for comfort and validation. Even just for attention – basic social needs. All three of you have a lot of time on your hands out here. A few months ago she would happily chatter on about this or that project she wanted to take on, or explain whatever she’s been working on to you. 

It feels like she never talks to you anymore. Not only that, but you hardly even see her doing the things she enjoys. She stops painting, stops carving. It was noticeably concerning, but every time you try to point out that she’s clearly not okay she just brushes you off. Asking her any questions about how she feels gets the same reaction as if you’d tried to pull teeth.  

So badly do you miss the days where she’d come to find you from across the cottage just to tell you about the plot twist in her book, or to show you something she found in the grass or from the garden. She hardly ever even looks at you anymore save for when you specifically get her attention. 

Even when she does listen, her eyes are vacant like she’s hardly paying attention. For the first time in years you feel like she doesn’t want to be around you. These days you get more from Papa than from her. It really fucking sucks. 

You miss her. You miss the life that you’d had out here, and you don’t understand why she’s gotten so depressed or what you could possibly do to help. 

After the worst of the panic passes, despair ebbs into curiosity. 

You could try and pretend like it’s for some greater purpose, that you’re listening so you can know how to better help them – after all, even if Annie was talking to you she won’t remember anything, and Papa has never been forthcoming. But honestly, that’s not why you end up choosing to snoop. 

It’s really not any more complicated than you being nosy, in the end. The context of Annie’s nightmare alone tells you what to expect from the interaction, but you want to listen in for yourself. You feel like you need to hear this. 

You’re not entirely sure why. Maybe it’s just the fear you might regret not finding out, in the end, that pushes you to get up. You keep the blanket around you snugly as you stumble to your feet and over to the door. 

Quickly you realize that the only way you’ll be able to hear anything outside from there is if you crack the door. The wood is just too thick. You’re worried that if you do that, Papa will notice. It doesn’t seem like a risk you’re willing to take. 

Instead, you waddle across the en suite into the bathroom. There, you feel a little safer away from the glaring yellow lamplight. Just the moon lights up the bathroom, dimly, and even though the glass still distorts the sound from outside, you can already tell that it’s a better option than listening from the door. You have a clear view of what’s going on in the garden. 

The first thing you noticed is that Annie has escalated to projectiles. The wooden stakes holding up beans and fruit bushes have been thrown like javelins, buried in the soil with severed vines still wrapped around some of them. Luckily, she seems to have exhausted her supply at this point. In fact, it doesn’t seem like there’s anything left for her to use at all. 

You undo the latch on the window slowly so it stays quiet, and silently push the window open so that you can finally discern the mumbles. You hear grunts of effort from Annie and the sound of blows landing, then the splintering of wood. You can’t see either her or her dad, but you’re not sure you want to. 

Maybe this was the world telling you that this is your chance to stop before your feelings get hurt. Maybe Papa had been right and you should have just stayed in the chair where he’d left you. 

No, it’s too late for that now. You’ve already seen the damage. Your heart is in your stomach. 

Quite literally, there’s nothing left. Nearly all the plants are ripped up or somehow broken. You can’t even see her at first glance, but you’re so overwhelmed that you can’t bring yourself to look. 

All of a sudden, you change your mind. You abandon the idea of snooping and run to lean against the sink. 

Tears flow down your cheeks despite trying to hold them in. It’s all too much, this night, everything about it. It destroys you that it’s happening at all, and the fact that such old wounds were still literally destroying aspects of her life. The poor garden… 

It was the heart of the home, both literally and figuratively. It connected the three buildings physically, and from the flowers and shrubs lining the fences to the garden that you eat from, it was by far the most closely-tended bit of land. It was beautiful and important to all three of you, and now it was completely and totally wrecked. There was nothing usable. No harvest to be salvaged, nothing to sustain you anymore. 

It wasn’t like you would starve or anything. You go to the market on a regular basis and you could just buy more food. It was the emotional aspect of losing everything that you worked so hard to build here with her. Right now you couldn’t even try to find a bright side. The depression overtakes you and you let yourself collapse in front of the sink in tears. 

What you want to do is embrace the emptiness. You wish you could lie down on this cold tile floor and dissolve. The wind will sweep away your body bit by bit as it erodes mountains and boulders. Tiny little pieces of you will scatter one atom at a time until you’re everywhere and everything. You’ll be strewn throughout the world in a million places at once, and most importantly, you won’t be in pain anymore. 

Even then, when you’re nothing, would you feel as lost as you do right now? This isn’t good or evil. There’s no moral decision to come to terms with, and maybe that’s why you struggle so much. You can still make a choice that will push Annie away even if you have the best intentions. 

You have nothing to win. In every scenario, you lose. Right now it feels so suffocating like there's no possible way out. 

Are you supposed to fix this, when it's so behind hope? What you wouldn't give for anything else to be happening to you right now. 

A high-pitched shriek from outside snaps you out of your thoughts. It’s clearly Annie –  you don’t even have to hear her speak to recognize her voice. You go back to peer out the window, and somehow you will yourself to look past the wreckage. Desperately, you search for movement or a familiar silhouette. 

Annie cries out again, and the noise aims you in the right direction. She’s on her hands and knees close to the barn, scrambling backward in the dirt, flinging debris left and right as she tries to avoid her dad. 

“Get away from me!” she screams. 

Papa stands with his hands up in defense about fifteen feet away. “I haven’t moved any closer,” he points out.  

It doesn’t seem to matter. She tosses a handful of ripped-up leaves and broken stems in his direction. “I said to get away from me!” 

He sighs, but he doesn’t flinch when plants shower on top of his nightclothes. He doesn’t even bother to brush them away. He just stares ahead with no expression. 

“If I stay where I am, will you stop throwing things?” 

She looks in both directions like she’s considering her options, and shrugs after a few moments. 

“Probably not,” she admits. 

Papa laughs, a little dryly. 

“Thanks for your honesty. If it makes you feel better, keep at it,” he says apathetically. He goes as far as to roll something toward her with his foot – maybe lettuce, or a head of broccoli? – from this distance, you can’t tell. 

Annie accepts the ammunition, holding it aimed, locked, and loaded. “I will not hesitate to throw this at your face,” she threatens.  

All he does is stand there. “That’s fine. You can throw it.” 

She winds herself up, cocking the vegetable above her shoulder, ready to hurl it. Now it sounds like she’s about to cry. 

“I’ll really do it!” she shrieks, her voice getting more desperate. 

Once again, her dad puts up no fight. “Okay.” 

The vegetable sails through the air, revealing itself to be broccoli as it shatters against his shoulder and flies in every direction. He barely flinches as he absorbs the entire impact of the blow, just takes it. All he does is stagger backward a few steps. 

Even from here, you can tell how hard of a collision it was, but Papa makes no sounds of complaint or pain. He holds his shoulder, though he still stands. 

There’s a long silence so oppressive and thick that you struggle to breathe. 

“So, is it helping?” he asks eventually. His voice isn’t angry or resentful, just weary. He’s sad, worn by so many years of regret, just now accepting the reality that this is where she’s ended up. 

There’s more crying and grunting from Annie on the other side of the garden, who now drops to her knees as she scrambles to find something else to throw. 

“Get it all out, there’s another pile on your left.” 

Quickly she finds the aforementioned ammo sitting a few feet over. A chunk of potatoes, roots, and dirt smacks into his stomach a few moments later. You hear an audible grunt on impact afterward. It’s not as hard of a blow, but even from across the yard it’s clear that he’s struggling to keep himself upright. Yet Papa doesn’t let himself wobble and remains as tall as he can manage. 

Just seconds later, an eggplant hurtles end-over-end to smack him right in the head. You gasp, expecting him to be hurt. Maybe it’s in the shock but he doesn’t seem to react to this blow at all. He stays there hunched over for a few moments as the garden goes quiet. 

Luckily, after this third throw, Annie gives up on attacking. She can’t seem to find anything in the general vicinity and it visibly overwhelms her. She buries her face in her hands, and defeated, she collapses to the ground. 

You watch with bated breath, not sure what to expect. The silence and stillness put you at unease. This is a loud and tumultuous affair and it doesn’t make sense. There’s a long moment where Papa just stands there, seemingly stunned. You’re right at the moment when you’re asking yourself why he isn’t doing anything when he finally does. 

Slowly and deliberately, he starts to make his way over to her. He keeps his distance at first and when he gets close enough for her to be aware of him, he calls out. “I’m coming closer now. I’m not going to hurt you.” 

“I’m not taking a break! I’ve been training this whole time,” Annie pleads, terrified. 

He sighs heavily. “I don’t care about that anymore.”

“Wh– what?” Annie asks, her voice cracking. 

There’s a long silence, and when he speaks again there’s a tremble in his voice that makes you feel even less sure than you already did. 

“You don’t have to fight anymore,” he tells her, more firmly this time, “In fact, I think you’re long overdue to take a break.”

You can barely hear her with the way she’s crying, but at some point, you hear a word squeak out amidst the heaving. “Really?” 

Papa nods as he walks a little closer. As he does, he blocks her from the view you have of her from where you sit. 

“You can rest. You’ve done perfectly,” he says. 

“...I have?” 

Although you can’t see her anymore, you can still hear everything. You want to move again so that you can see them, but you’re also frozen in place. 

“Yes. I’m proud of you, Annie. Rest, okay?” 

You can hear in the way her breathing quickens that she’s getting frantic. “I – I don’t know how…” she admits. 

Papa sinks down, presumably to his knees. “That’s alright. We’ll figure it out together.” A few long seconds pass before he asks: “Is it okay if I hug you?” 

She doesn’t respond, but the fact that she doesn’t shove him away is enough. It’s so dark that you can hardly see what’s happening aside from the vague dark shadows of movement. You hear Papa wheeze as he sits down on the grass, then Annie starts crying more intensely a few seconds later. 

“I’m sorry,” she says loudly after a few seconds. 

Her dad says something in response, but it’s too quiet for you to hear. What’s left of the fence now obscures most of your view. 

It’s not good enough. You’ve heard too much to back down now. Ever nosy, you back away from the window and walk back through the en suite. The blanket falls from your shoulders and onto the floor behind you. 

The door handle clicks and disengages quietly, but then the door creaks as you push it open. Even though you were told to stay in the chair, you’re not really afraid of being seen. Most of the reason that you stay quiet is that you don’t want to interrupt. 

You crouch behind the overturned table a few feet away to hide, willing yourself to be silent. You still can’t hear anything, so you hold your hand over your mouth to cover the sound of your breathing. Now that you’re closer the hushed whispers between them start to become audible.

It’s not just Papa talking, you realize. Annie is speaking in surprisingly full, coherent sentences. She doesn’t sound present, though. Her words are slightly slurred and empty of emotion, sleepily mumbled out.  

“No, I’m not upset at all. You’re not in trouble right now.” 

You glance around the edge of the table and catch a glimpse of Annie’s hair. Her face is buried in her dad’s shoulder, her voice so muffled that it’s barely audible. “I’m sorry. All I ever do is hurt people…”

Papa shakes his head.“That isn’t true. You have so much to offer the world and your family. You’re smart, and you’re strong. Not just your body, either. I’m so proud of the way that you take care of Y/N, and of me.” 

As she curls in further, her eyes disappear out of sight. “But I’ve hurt you.” 

“Well, I hurt you too,” he reminds her. His fingers scrunch up in her hair to comfort her as he holds her close. “It’s never something I’ve resented you for.”

She sniffles. “Really?” 

“Of course not. I was always proud, even if it wasn't for the right reasons,” he says, “At first it was just because of how much progress you made, but after a few years I realized: you proved that day you won’t let yourself be treated poorly by someone who claims to love you. That wasn’t something I taught you, for sure. But it’s come to be one of the things I admire about you most.” 

When he stops speaking for a moment, a silence so heavy and filled with uncertainty fills the air, that you’re grateful when you hear his voice again. 

“I wish that you could have had a father in me before I sent you out into the world. I was too stubborn and proud. Because of it, we both missed out on so much. I’m the one who should be apologizing.” 

Annie remains quiet. From behind the table, you're hit with another wave of emotions. The hand on your mouth tightens as your sobs threaten to burst out. 

Papa continues on. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t a good father. I’m sorry that I thought it was enough to give you food and a home, and that I made you fight instead of letting you be a kid,” Papa’s voice starts to waver, but he continues on as his daughter sobs in his arms. “I’m sorry that I did things so wrong back then that you’re still hurting now. I wish I knew how to fix it… but sometimes it feels like it can’t be fixed. You have every reason in the world to hate me–” 

“– no!” Annie interrupts, all of a sudden. It stops him dead in his tracks. 

“That’s not true,” she cries, “I don’t hate you at all.” 

Now it’s Papa’s turn to sniffle, left wordless. “Really?” 

“Never. You’re my dad…” 

You’re so upset that you throw up in your mouth a little bit. The first instinct you have is to choke it back down, but you’re so viscerally upset that you realize you’re genuinely about to hurl. It’s all you can do to aim away from the place where you’re sitting.

There’s a long silence after that, much longer than you’re comfortable with  After you manage to pull yourself together enough to move, you once again peek your head around the table.

He’s not talking because he’s crying, you realize all at once. You had barely even heard Papa’s voice break before this – you’ve never seen him lose his composure, never seen him give in to vulnerability like this. His stoicism didn’t allow for such weakness, or so he thought. Now, it seems like he’s evolving. 

“I love you, Annie,” he chokes, “I really am sorry. For everything.” 

She mutters sleepily, hardly intelligibly: “Love you too.” 

As she readjusts to a more comfortable position, you can see that the look on her face is finally peaceful. Tears still shine on her cheeks but she’s not crying anymore – it seems like she’s fallen back asleep all the way. 

It seems like it’s over. You put your hand back over your mouth again to quiet yourself, terrified to move. At this point what you’re afraid of is interrupting such an insanely personal moment for Papa. The telltale sounds of crying still echo in the garden. 

All you can think of is how you feel after Annie has a nightmare. You usually want to be left alone to wallow in your misery, so you want to respect his privacy if that’s what he wants, too. 

Unfortunately, it seems like that’s not what he needs tonight. 

“Y/N? Can you hear me?” he calls out after a few seconds, his voice still shaking, “I know you don’t listen. You’re out there somewhere, right?” 

You freeze. Maybe it’s not too late for you to creep back inside and pretend that you stayed in the chair the whole time and that you hadn’t heard a thing. Though, any potential plan is quickly foiled when you step on something that cracks loudly – either a twig or some poor uprooted plant thrown across the yard. 

Ah, shit, you think. 

“I don’t care if you heard what I said,” he says. Immediately it relieves some of the uneasiness. He sighs, “but I don’t think I’ll be able to carry Annie inside by myself... I need your help to get up.” 

Something in your gut twists at the admission. You don’t make the conscious decision to start moving, but before you know it you’re climbing to your feet. You stumble your way across the broken garden. 

When you get to where Papa can see you, you freeze. You’re overwhelmed by your emotions again at the sight of him

“Come here, please,” he asks. You can see why he won’t be able to get up on his own; Annie is basically half-draped across him, leaning. 

Her head is still on his shoulder, lolling now that she’s fully unconscious again. They’re both sitting on the ground, but all of the weight of her upper body is being supported by the fact that her arms are around his shoulders. He looks at you sadly and continues to stroke her hair. 

Again you’re completely overwhelmed by emotion, and you can’t help but fling your arms around him. It throws him a little bit off-kilter, but you have enough balance to keep all three of you upright. 

“I’m sorry…” you whisper. You don’t know what else to say, really. It occurs to you later that you could’ve thanked him, but when he’s crying the way he is you feel paralyzed. 

To your surprise, he turns around and says: “I’m sorry to you, too.” 

It catches you off guard. “Why?” you ask, and pull back so that you can see his face. 

Papa shakes his head. “This is affecting you now, too. I wish I could take away this pain, for you both. It never should have existed in the first place.” 

Your lower lip trembles as once again you feel doubt creeping into the back of your mind. This isn't your family, not really. You’re still the outsider. “You really don’t owe me anything.” 

He rolls his eyes. Not maliciously, but because his arms are still in use. “It’s not about that. It’s my job to take care of you whether you think you need me or not. That’s what fathers do for their children, and the world has decided to bring me another daughter.”

A beat of silence passes. Tears start to form in your eyes as you realize the full weight of those words. Should you hug him again? Should you tell him what he means to you, too? It takes a moment for your brain to catch up. 

“I love you too, you know,” he adds. It’s tacked on the end as if it’s a side thought. Like it’s not one of the most impactful things that an adult has ever said to you.  

A million emotions hit you at once. Despite the fact that you’re physically holding everyone up, you yourself collapse. You can’t help it. Between what you’d witnessed and what he’d just said, you’re overwhelmed.  

Papa’s hand on your back draws you back into the moment. He doesn’t let go of Annie, but he shifts most of her weight into one of his arms so that he can put the other around your shoulders. You’re conscious of his limitations as you lean into the group huddle, holding all of your own weight on your knees. 

You take the opportunity to try and center yourself again, to calm some of your less rational emotions. 

The three of you just sit there for a minute – well, it’s really just the two of you, since Annie is dead asleep. You sit there with one arm resting gently on her waist and your other around Papa’s shoulder.

Honestly, the only measure of how much time passes you notice is that it’s long enough that your knees go numb. It doesn’t feel real, any of it. For the dozenth time that night, everything hits you all over again. 

Is this going to be the new normal? You look around at the destroyed garden from the destroyed rows to the splintered fences and realize that you can’t keep doing this to yourself. No matter how high the highs are, if this is what the lows are like… it scares you.  

You need to believe that this was a freak occurrence, something that would never happen again. Yet the night she broke your nose you’d secretly hoped the same thing. As horrible as that had been, maybe you should have anticipated that it would get worse. It always does, after all. 

It’s all just too much. This is so overwhelming, to be sitting in the aftermath of… whatever this is. This horrible, horrible nightmare come to life. There’s a part of you that wants to clean it up before the sun comes up so that you don’t have to face the hard truth in the light of day. Maybe if you avoid looking at it you can ignore that it’s happening. 

You haven’t felt like this since the night your nose was broken. This time, however, you don’t have any physical pain to distract you from the gaping hole inside of you. Even after watching it, not even for the first time, there’s still a part of you that can’t comprehend that Annie was capable of hurting you. The broken nose was easy to rationalize as an accident, but this? 

This is a really, seriously tangible difference. You can’t hide the trashed garden behind a layer of concealer and an upbeat attitude. You can’t make excuses to keep people away until you’ve got your shit together. 

It’s bad this time, and the both of you know it. After he lets himself go for a moment, Papa sobers up, then sighs deeply. 

“Can’t sit here forever. You can take her into my room if you don’t want to go up the stairs,” he offers, looking up at you guiltily. His expression says what he doesn’t - that he’d be the one carrying her if he could. That he wishes he didn’t have to ask for your help, either. 

Gently, he transfers Annie into your arms. Together you both lower her onto the grass with as little turbulence as you can manage. You stand first, then extend both hands to Papa. He slowly rises to his feet with no lack of trouble, groaning and cursing all the while until you finally heave him up. 

As he limps back across the yard into his room, you keep an eye on  but you try not to stare. Instead, you consider the best way to carry her and try to judge how far you’ll have to go. She looks shockingly unbothered. 

It’s a short enough distance that you feel confident in carrying her bridal style. You scoop her up underneath her shoulders and knees and lift. You stagger forward as you struggle to gather your balance, but once you stabilize, you’re able to power on. 

Papa is holding the door to his bedroom open. By the time you stumble through the door, your strength is failing you. You drop Annie onto the bed a little harder than you intend to but she doesn’t seem affected by it. She stays in the exact same position she lands in, so you try to straighten out her body a little so she doesn’t wake up with a cramp. 

For a while, you stay on the end of the bed to watch over her. You don’t pay much attention to anything besides watching the slow rise and fall of her chest until you feel a familiar weight around your shoulders. Again a blanket is clumsily wrapped around your shoulders. 

You look up to see Papa standing above you with his arms out. He looks more broken than you’ve ever seen him. 

As he did with Annie earlier, he approaches you cautiously: “Can I hug you?” 

You’re not the same way they are. Maybe you never have been, but especially not after these past few months. He doesn’t need to ask. You don’t want to be asked. There’s this deep aching loneliness inside of you that gnaws at you – and maybe it just means that you’re soft like he always points out, but you want to be doted on unconditionally. 

You can’t manage to verbalize a response. Luckily Papa picks up on what isn’t said by the way you weakly reach out to him with tears in your eyes. He sits down on the end of the bed to hug you. 

This time, there are no tears left in you. You cry silently as you let yourself relax into the hug, gasping and shaking. It feels totally hopeless and like no amount of reassurance would help, though he does try anyway.

“It’s okay,” he says as he pats your back, “it’s over now.” 

Instead of being a comfort, his words make the dread inside of you grow exponentially. Your breathing quickens, your vision blurs, and something in your chest grows tight and painful. Even though you know you’re panicking you can’t stop yourself from spinning out and letting your emotions get the best of you. 

Papa sees your reaction and pulls you back by your shoulders. He extends one arm at a time to look you up and down – you’re a bit confused at first but also too overwhelmed to protest. 

“Are you hurt?” he asks. It’s then you realize that he’s checking you for injuries. 

You shake your head. “No, it’s not that. It’s just–” you break his gaze as you pull away. Your arms go limp at your sides. “It’s not over. Maybe it’s done for tonight, but what about the next time this happens? It’s only getting worse.” 

Papa’s lips press together tightly. He considers your words for a moment before tilting his head in acknowledgment. The fact that he doesn’t verbally respond is enough to bring tears back to your eyes. It feels like his reaction is a confirmation that it’ll be horrible forever. 

It leads you to spiral a bit. “It’s not fair. It’s not fucking fair,” you spit, bitterly, “I don’t recognize this. She would never do this… Why is this happening?” 

“I wish that I had answers for you,” he tells you, “you know that I would take away her pain if I could.” 

You nod, and as you start to cry again, Papa finally catches on that you need wordless instinctive comfort. He puts his hand on your shoulder. 

“It’s going to be okay,” he repeats. 

“–is it, though?” you ask. It’s hard not to let yourself spiral, but you do your best to hold it together. 

“I hope so,” he says, though he sounds uncertain. He sighs. “Sometimes I worry that my being here is hurting her.” 

You look up at him. “What do you mean?” 

“Do I even need to explain after what we both just saw?”

“No…” you admit, but you recall the many conversations you’ve had about the subject. “She needs you, too. She’s wanted you here from the start.” 

Papa shrugs. “Hmm. Annie doesn’t always know what’s good for her.”

He’s right, but you still feel the need to defend her. “That’s not fair. She doesn’t know how.” Your lower lip trembles. “For so long she couldn’t accept that she has feelings like everyone else. She’s only just figured out how to be honest with herself.”

“I’m not disagreeing with you. If she can be honest, then maybe it’s time for her to reevaluate what she wants.”

All you can do is stare at him. “What the hell are you saying? It would be so much worse if you weren’t here. What am I supposed to do without you?”

“You saw what happened tonight,” he says sadly, “I’ve never seen her like this before. I’m worried that she needs more help than the two of us can give her by ourselves. We can’t keep doing this – not like this.” 

What you want to do is argue. He was the only person who could have possibly talked her down tonight. You couldn’t have done a thing for her and more than that, you couldn’t even bring yourself to go near her. 

You get why Annie wants him here. Nowadays, you need a parent just as much as she does. 

“I can’t take too many more beatings like that at this age,” he cracks a smile to try and break the tension, but it doesn’t work. Quickly, his face falls again. “More than that, look at you. When is the last time you slept through the night? You keep denying the toll this is taking on you but I can see how much it weighs on you. Neither of us can keep going like this.” 

He’s right, and you know it. The stakes are too high, and all the events from the night had done was put that into perspective. You knew that it was only a matter of time before things escalated. Is it really worse than you imagined it to be, or was it always going to be hard to watch no matter how it happened? 

It was bad, but you already knew that. Until now you were able to rationalize a million different reasons as to why you bottled up your own feelings. It only made things worse for everyone. 

You let out a defeated sigh as more tears roll down your cheeks. “All I’ve ever wanted is to make Annie happy.” 

He puts his arms around your shoulders. 

“I know you do, but we clearly haven’t been doing any favors for her lately,” he says, surprisingly gently. “Something needs to change.” 

“So what are we supposed to do, then?” 

“I have no idea,” he admits, “but right now I think we should sleep. It’ll be hours until the sun comes up.” 

“You’re tired?” 

“Down to my bones,” he nods wearily, “and so are you.” 

He’s right. Your eyes feel like sandpaper, but you groan in reluctance. 

Papa nods sympathetically, and re-wraps the blanket around you more snugly. “Lie down, Y/N, you need the rest.” 

He sits down in the chair a few feet away with his arms crossed. Immediately he closes his eyes and goes dead silent, and it genuinely seems like he’s already fallen asleep. 

You feel too guilty letting him sleep without saying something more. Surely he knew how much you appreciated him, and especially so after tonight… the part of you that was raised right can’t bear to not show some kind of gratitude beyond what goes unspoken. 

“Thank you for your help tonight… and I’m sorry.” Even though you try really hard to keep your voice even, it breaks anyway. 

Papa sniffs. “Of course,” he says, “I’m sorry, too.” 

You know that if you look up and see him crying that it’ll push you over the edge again. So badly you don’t want to break down again, that when more tears inevitably come, you just let them drip down into your hair as you stare blankly at the ceiling. Something deep inside of you aches. 

“I don’t want to lose the two of you,” you mumble in the midst of your existential dread. 

Papa doesn’t say anything, and for a moment you think he’s fallen asleep. Then you hear a heavy sigh float across the room followed by the comforting rumble of his voice. 

“Get some sleep, kid. We’ll both still be here when the sun is up.”  

You nod. After a few minutes of silence, you roll onto your side to look at Annie and push her hair out of her face. For a long while, you sit there staring at her and thinking. 

It makes you feel better to know that Papa is just as clueless as you are. You don’t want to be alone in this struggle. And even though you still feel absolutely horrible, you also feel slightly less alone. It was too much to handle on your own. 

All you wish is that she didn’t have to fall so low. 

In the end, if you sleep again that night at all, it’s so fitful you don’t even realize it. For a while, you close your eyes just so they won’t get so dehydrated. 

You wish you’d slept. Maybe it would have made you make better choices. 

At some point, birds start to sing and the sun begins to rise, dusking the windows and casting a pale light in through the bathroom. It’s around then that you start pulling yourself together and shoving everything down. 

It’s too much, too out of your control. Maybe there’s nothing you can do for her anymore, but you’ll be damned if you let yourself break down in front of her. It’s the worst possible choice you could’ve made, but you unhealthily rationalize that it’s better to put up a front. 

It doesn’t even occur to you at the moment how hypocritical it is, and when it hits you later you just bottle it up even harder. It makes you feel like shit – you know how it feels to be lied to and it’s not something you’d ever bring upon her. And even though you recognize it’s an issue, it feels like the right move. 

But this is different, right? You’re doing it to protect her, and it never occurs to you that maybe Annie had thought the same thing

By the time she begins to stir, you’ve plastered a fake smile on your face so convincingly that even to you it feels genuine. You don’t know what to do, but making her feel guilty can’t do anything but make the situation worse. Even if it’s to your detriment, you’ll keep pushing through. 

[zv5x]

HHH i’m imagining spirit angst like “i love you so” “please let me go” cause s/o didn’t expect him to stay that long and spirit is WAYYY too attached.

Spirit angst!!! I went slightly yan with this, hope u don't mind anon! Remember to take care of yourself today and remember my inbox is always open!

(I feel like this came out so bad and I'm so sorry ughh)

( :̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

"(Y-Y/N)..."

His voice pearced your ears, but still you didn't budge. In fact, you weren't even facing him. You couldn't. Not after how he's been acting towards you, towards everyone.

"It's okay to love me...." His voice quivered, bordering on weak whimpers fuled by quickly forming tears. Spirit tried reaching out to you, but you didn't do a single thing other than immediately tense your body. It hurt. It truly did. Seeing you in any way scared of him tore his heart to pieces. "Please love me."

You shook your head. You loved him, but not in the way that he wanted you to love him. He wanted you to belong to him, he wanted to belong to you. All you wanted to do was free a trapped soul and call it a day. You just wanted to help him, you didn't want the lifelong commitment that he was expecting to come with it.

"No, Spirit. You need to let me go."

You said flatly, taking a deep breath in as you heard him choke back a sob. You didn't want to be this direct and cold with him, but it seemed that with everything else he heard from you, he found some way to twist it to where it fit his own views about the situation. You couldn't handle it, not now and not ever.

"But why?!" He stomped in annoyance, grabbing your hand and looking into your eyes as you snapped your head in his direction. "We were supposed to be together forever! You promised you'd help me, (Y/N), and you're all the help I could ever need..." You looked at him with slight distain, and he sniffled pathetically. It's strange, a demon would be the last entity you'd expect to show this level of emotion, and yet here you are watching this trainwreck.

"I did my part. You're free. And now I'm telling you you're free to go. I've given you all I said I'd give you, you need to let us move on." You parted your lips. "Please, Spirit."

For a second, there was silence. You stared at the silent demon for a minute before looking back to the side. Maybe he finally got it. Maybe he'd finally leave you alone.

"But we-"

You stopped him immediately.

"There is no 'we', Spirit. There's me and you, but there isn't a we. There's nothing left for you here. I can't love you as much as you love me."

Spirit let go of your hand, letting it stop to the bedsheet you sat on before watching you place it nonchalantly in your lap. Slowly, he moved his arms up to his face to dry his tears. You wondered what was taking him so long to leave, you told him he was completely free from not only the Hating Simulator but also your house.

"(Y/N)...?"

Spirit asked your name, drawing out the last syllable ever so slightly. You did nothing but hum in response.

"Why are you humans so selfish?" He asked, a slight amount of disgustingly innocent undertones in his voice. You sat stunned for a minute, before laughing slightly. What else could you do? That was by far the stupidest thing he's ever said, on top of it being offensively untrue.

"Oh so humans are the selfish ones, now?" You got up from your seat, almost matching Spirit in height at this point. "Says the guy who won't leave my fucking house!" You almost yelled, silently agreeing with yourself that this was the moment you lose your cool. You were getting sick and tired of Spirit's drawn out mind games, and you'll be damned if you'll let his own delusions excuse insulting an entire species.

"This is what I'm talking about, (Y/N). Humans are selfish. You're not worried about our love, or what we've been through. You're just worried about your house." Spirit criticized, staying shockingly calm. Not nearly as calm as you however.

"How many times do I have to tell you, Spirit? I don't love you! I never asked you to grow this creepy obsession with me, you did that all on your own, man!"

Spirit sighed, before clicking his tongue in the roof of his mouth. "Why did you change, (Y/N)? You said you'd be there for me....is there someone in our wa-"

Refusing to let Spirit ramble on about this deluded bullshit for any longer, you raised your palm up and roughly struck it across his cheek as hard as you possibly could. He stumbled back slightly, holding his cheek and looking at you with a shocked but slightly angered expression.

Taking a deep breath, Spirit took a minute to regain his composure. When he did, he locked eyes with you, who was now realizing exactly what you've just done. Bitch slapping him, while most definitely satisfying, would only really work well if you were planning on sprinting to a church right afterwards. Since you decided to stand there, you were forced to watch helplessly as you tried to figure out what insane response Spirit would have to the assault upon his form.

"I'm sorry for whatever I let slip by me that turned you against me, (Y/N). I truly am. But I will not and cannot sit here and allow myself to be treated as less than I am."

"Then fucking leave, Spirit."

Spirit let out a soft laugh of pity, shaking his head once more.

"No, that would involve leaving you. Leaving us. And we've both already established that's not on the table. Now, about that little stunt..."

You looked down, and widened your eyes as you saw Spirit physically prepare for something. You didn't know what, but the possibilities terrified you.

He smiled at you lovingly, and with great empathy.

"This'll hurt me far more than it hurts you, darling. Please, hold still for me."

In a split second, you felt your entire body go numb, to the point where not a single muscle could be moved. However, your brain could still function perfectly, and panic ensued.

Spirit giggled sadistically as he watched the panic show up in your pretty bright eyes. What he was about to do was only fair for everything you've done to him within the past few minutes, so he couldn't feel too guilty. You had to learn a lesson. He had to help you unlearn that normalized human selfishness and greed.

Caressing your face, he spoke for the last time before he began:

"Remember to tell me you love me after I'm done, okay?~"

[itsclydebitches]

RWBY Recaps: Volume 8 “Fault”

Hello, everyone! We’re not even bothering with an introduction today, let’s just get straight to the only thing that matters.

HERE HE IS, THE MVP OF THIS EPISODE, OF THE WHOLE VOLUME, THE SERIES, THE ONLY ONE I CARE ABOUT RIGHT NOW

I’m joking… but only a little. In all seriousness we will get to Ren, but you all want to hear a funny story first? I somehow got it into my head that there was no RWBY episode this week—the holiday and all—so I poured all my meta time and energy into a ridiculous Ironwood analysis as a placeholder, only to wake up this morning and find the strongest (and most complicated!) episode this year waiting for a recap. Like some sort of grimm nosing into my inbox. 

Okay, so it’s not a funny story, but if RT would just do a better job with their website my life would be a whole lot easier.

So here we are, taking a look at the episode “Fault.” Quick question, is every episode this volume going to have a one-word title? It’s not a criticism, I’ve got nothing against a punchy name, I’m just curious since RWBY has never done that before. If anything, they’ve gone more for symbolically significant phrases like “A Brawl in the Family,” “Players and Pieces,” and “The Lady in the Shoe.” I wonder what sparked the change.

Anyway, we open on Robyn laughing about some story she’s told, something about Joanna losing a fair fight for the first time, presumably to her. This is what we’ve learned about Robyn since this volume started: she refuses to acknowledge that she had a hand in Clover’s death; she was asked by Blake and Yang to keep the Amity secret but, according to May, couldn’t keep her mouth shut about it; and she tries to cheer Qrow up by bragging about her own skill.

Alrighty then.

Obviously, this little story fails to land. “Tough crowd tonight.” Robyn looks to Jacques as well as Qrow when she says this and since she clearly doesn’t care about cheering him up, she must want to get a rise out of him. Create something, as she says at the end of the scene, that’s exciting. Robyn just really loves to start fights. Against Ironwood, Clover, bickering matches with Jacques—stories told about winning them! If she’s not fighting someone she’s not interested.

Qrow does eventually give the smallest smile though and Robyn cheers. “Did I win?” They both quickly grow serious again though and Robyn says she’s “sorry for what happened. It wasn’t your fault.” Her apology would mean more if she was apologizing for her actions, not providing a generic ‘Sorry for your loss’ like she had no hand in this.

Qrow then insists it was his fault… but, of course, not for the reasons why he’s actually responsible (also, didn’t we do this two weeks ago?). For starters, Qrow blames his semblance for everything that went down, despite the fact that his semblance is not responsible for him breaking Clover’s aura, or Tyrian stabbing him. The most we’ve seen his semblance do is cause minor mischief, which in and of itself is absurd considering we’re meant to believe that it has kept him from his family most of his life, and informs choices like whether he’ll travel with the group in Volume 4. Still, it’s not unexpected that he would blame his semblance and think that having friends is a “childish dream”—depression is one hell of a liar—but rather, it’s frustrating that no one is helping Qrow see the truth of the situation, both the good and the bad. He certainly doesn’t need Robyn providing generic platitudes that absolve them both of their choices.

You know what the worst part is? The two kind, level-headed adults with enough distance to help Qrow acknowledge his mistakes while also correcting him about his misconceptions… are Ozpin and Clover. The former is still ignored by the cast, the latter barely got to be a character before he was killed.  

Qrow goes on to say that he “made a deal with the darkness and [Clover] paid the price.” I’m sorry, what does that mean?? Outside of referencing his team-up with Tyrian, that’s the most dramatic, nonsensical thing he could have said. Qrow doesn’t admit to the team-up though, rather he starts blaming Clover for his own death.

Precisely like a good chunk of the fandom has done 🙃

He says that Clover just “wouldn’t let up” (translation: he wouldn’t agree to let me go when I was under arrest) and that they could have “worked together against Tyrian if Clover had just—”

There’s a lot to cover this episode, so I’m not going to dive into another explanation of all the justified reasons why Clover didn’t trust Qrow in that moment and why Qrow was the one who “wouldn’t let up.” If you’re interested in that rundown, head here.

Side note: can RWBY please stop with the weird mouth closeups? I’m begging the animators. Especially when so much else in this episode is gorgeous.

Yes: 

No: 

Robyn’s response is to make it all about her. I say, as a hypocrite, because my instinctual response in comforting someone is to also bring up a way that I might, sort of, know what they’re going through. It’s something to work on and, as always, I’d be more receptive to Robyn’s attempts if she weren’t failing so spectacularly in every other aspect of her characterization. Case in point: she says that having a truth semblance tends to make people push her away, but we’ve never once seen that. We’re introduced to Robyn as she’s adored by Fiona. The people celebrate her. Yang and Blake trust her immediately, for no reason, and comment on how useful her semblance is—they’re not concerned with it. Ironwood likewise works with her and allows her to use her semblance on him in public, at least for a time. May spoke fondly of Robyn last episode. She just finished a story about Joanna… where is this pushing away you speak of, Robyn? I really wish RWBY would consider things ahead of time and actually show them to us, rather than just having characters announce that they’re (supposedly) there.

Nice symbolism though with Robyn touching the electric bars and pulling her hand back. You reach out, you get hurt, curl in on yourself, blah, blah, blah. Too bad it’s not a moment attached to an actual struggle of hers.

Qrow buys it though, saying he’s never thought about it that way before. 

You know, I get why a lot of people in the fandom hate Clover. I can’t even claim I’m much interested in him as an individual. I’m sick of straight, white, able-bodied men getting the spotlight, which is one of the things that drew me to RWBY in the first place… so theoretically Robyn should be the better choice for Qrow’s BFF, right? Especially in a world where FairGame only existed in RT’s social media queerbaiting. Give us the badass gender-bent Robin Hood instead of the boring military man!

On paper it sounds great… which is why it’s astounding that RT bungled that so badly.  

Qrow never finishes his thought about Clover because the Ace Ops come in to return Watts to his cell. Interesting. The writing has definitely made Ironwood stupid, but perhaps not as stupid as he could have been? If he got Watts to hack Penny (we don’t yet know what’s going on with her during all this) and then promptly shut him away again, that’s just about the best way you can follow up on your worst decision.

Harriet spots Clover’s pin and tells Qrow “You don’t get to keep that,” but then doesn’t take it from him. See, that right there is a better motivation for potentially opening the cell. Qrow says he didn’t kill Clover, Harriet shoots back that his blood was on Qrow’s blade (again, focusing on the wrong way that he’s guilty), Robyn challenges her to get the truth via her semblance… and Harriet considers it? Why? She’s not the one struggling with her loyalty here, that’s Marrow, yet he’s the one who has to pull Harriet back with “What are you doing?” when she looks at the keypad. Have Marrow almost be swayed by Robyn’s taunting, or have Harriet almost open the door because she’s furious and desperate to get Clover’s pin back. Either one of those would make more sense than this.

Also, no one checked Qrow during his arrest/before he was thrown into his cell?

Also, note that Marrow uses a nickname here—“Hare”—so I’m continually unpersuaded by the ‘They’re not friends’ claim. Yes, Harriet hits his shoulder on her way out… and Ren will later scream at Jaune about cheating. Harriet being in a bad mood because their leader was just murdered isn’t evidence that they’re not close, no more than Ren responding to Everything Traumatic Ever is evidence that he doesn’t care for his friends.

Also (x3), Robyn calls Harriet “mohawk”?? Can’t this woman come up with a single good insult?

As the Ace Ops leave Robyn lays back down on her bunk, exactly as she was before, and says, “Well, that was almost exciting.” Kind of like this scene! Luckily, the episode is about to get a whole lot better.

The music immediately picks up as we segue to Ren, Jaune, and Yang chasing after Oscar. On the whole I really enjoyed this scene, largely because it shows the group doing their best—in a way that feels persuasive. I’ll admit that others have a point about them just standing around while the Hound changes form—yet still failing because, you know, our villain is actually powerful! However, there are, as always, some nitpicks.

One of the first bits of dialogue we get is Ren noticing that the bikes can’t stand being in the cold for very long. It bugs me that bikes suffer more from the cold than the civilians do. To say nothing of the fact that it once again doesn’t amount to anything. Their bikes carry them through the whole battle and Jaune looses his because of a grimm. Then Yang manages to fix the totaled bike with a single part, despite the continued cold. Why bother introducing this as a problem when it’s meaningless each and every time?

The three do demonstrate some great teamwork though. When Yang yells that she wishes one of them could fly, Jaune uses his shield to launch Ren at the Hound… so that he can get dragged through the air, hitting rocks. This poor guy. I like that though because no, these teens shouldn’t be perfect, strategic masterminds and yes, they’re in the kind of situation where they just have to try something and see if it works. Jaune can’t think ahead to what Ren will do once he grabs the Hound, they just have to get him to that point and go from there. Which they do. Ren snags a boulder to slow them down further (that’s smart) and Yang goes higher to fire at the Hound’s face (don’t hit Oscar he doesn’t have aura!!). They’re at a crazy disadvantage here and still trying their best to get our boy back.

The overall tone is… fine? Again, love supportive Yang—that high five with Jaune was wholesome—but it continually feels weird to get that when Oscar is in the literal jaws of death here. On the whole though the scene keeps to the action and seriousness of the situation, which I appreciate. We’ll talk more about tone during the outpost scene.

It's looking like they might be making some sort of headway when the Hound lets out a roar that, as Yang puts it, calls for backup. 1. Yay giving this grimm even more power to mess with the cast, 2. Holy shit there are so many grimm around. See, scenes like this is why I’m side-eyeing the anti-army rhetoric in the show (a stance I’d otherwise agree with 100%). Because do you see how many there are? That’s not Salem’s army, that’s just the normal grimm hanging out around Atlas. The cast is screwed if anyone were to, say, order them to attack the kingdom…

Kudos to RT for bringing back the centipede grimm though. I honestly thought they’d just be a one-off action sequence in Volume 7.

While everything is falling apart Ren catches a glimpse of Oscar, complete with rosy cheeks to make him look super young, and the sight fills him with 

He starts climbing towards the Hound and we cut away. 

Meanwhile, Jaune’s bike is hit with some of the centinel’s acid (again, not the cold causing problems) and he takes a tumble, managing to keep his feet before Yang snags him. Moments like that really do show how far he’s come and I’m glad we got to see such a moment in an episode where his cheating was brought up. Jaune then uses his shield to fly over one of the dragon-y grim, but... wait. The shield is flexible?

Literally what is the point of that? As a shield, I mean (it clearly works fine as  a ramp). If you can just tip it over like that then so can the grimm or another fighter. Forget how tiny the shield is, all a monster would have to do is boop it and it would fall over. In fact, it probably should have with the grimm scratching at it before. Seems rather useless, unless you’ve got writers crafting convenient situations. Also, does Jaune have multiples of this thing? He picked it up before, but there’s no way he found that one again. Idk, I’m really not feeling this addition to Jaune’s arsenal. Better to give him a range option so he’s more versatile.

Still, they fly over the grimm and the two let out a sigh in synch. Whatever else we might have to say about this volume, RT is definitely giving us different interactions and team-ups. Well done there. Why, Jaune and Yang have managed to survive all that together!

Oh wait, never mind. They’ve gone off a cliff.

Honestly, I’m shocked they actually went over. I thought Yang would stop in time, or we’d have a classic moment of them tumbling off the bike and ending an inch from the edge, maybe going off slow with time for one to hang on. But nope, they plummet and it was done with such confidence by the camera that for a split second (the illogic of killing them both off aside) I thought that was it. They’re done for. Lucky for them, Ren catches them at the last second, managing to snag Jaune’s sword and them and immediately use his semblance so the grimm doesn’t eat them. That’s skill, baby!!

But you can see why he’s pissed, beyond just the fact that his semblance is holding this group together. It’s not Jaune and Yang’s fault that there was suddenly a cliff, but last we saw Ren he was heading towards Oscar. He had a plan. Granted, not one that was likely to lead anywhere given the Hound’s power (and the plot needing Oscar to reach Salem), but that’s not the point. He was pulling himself towards their kidnapped friend and then at the last second had to cut himself loose to save two others. This moment wasn’t anyone’s fault, but it would take someone with no emotions at all not to be frustrated by it. 

So we leave the trio literally hanging out and return to Ruby’s group who is threatening kids! 

Seriously though WTF, Weiss? Look, I haven’t always been kind to Whitley. In fact, I think there’s a Volume 7 recap where I really laid into him for his attitude and for supporting Jacques. But then—with the help of some friends and other anon perspectives—I thought about it for a hot second and considered how little power this child has. I was wrong to blame him for so much given the various circumstances here. It took, like… five minutes of thinking, and that’s for a fictional character, not a real life brother. Weiss clearly hasn’t given her brother five seconds of thought. He’s in the same abusive household that she was. He wasn’t blessed with combat abilities and a semblance to easily escape. He didn’t have Weiss there to guide him like Winter guided her. He had to watch BOTH his sisters abandon him to Jacques… so when exactly was he supposed to learn to be better? Why would he be inclined to? Weiss was an entitled racist when she got to school and needed new friends to show her a new path. She admitted as much last volume! Yet the fact that Whitley is completely alone in this house while their mom locks herself in her room to drink doesn’t register at all? This woman, an adult out to save the world as we’re frequently told, never once considered what it took to get her here and realize that Whitley has had none of the resources she did? 

I want to emphasize that Weiss threatens him with her weapon. It’s not just that she’s dismissive of him and his plight, she’s also happy to use violence if Whitley doesn’t do exactly as he’s told. Violence… against her brother… who is a child… without any training. Again: WTF, Weiss? You know how I was praising RWBY last episode for not having the group beat up the Atlas personnel? Yeah, we get this instead.

Then she tells him to go to his room??

Speculation is that Whitley is about 2-3 years younger than Weiss. Or, to put it another way, roughly the same age as Weiss’ leader, Ruby. She’ll follow Ruby unquestioningly into world-changing decisions, but sends her brother to his room like a toddler? Which is it, RWBY? Are 17 year-olds leaders you should listen to, or babies who must leave the room while the grownups talk? He certainly can’t be any younger than Oscar, so again, she’ll fight beside him, but treat Whitley like this? Whitley isn’t exactly going to offer help in a respectful, eager manner, but that “Fine. What do you expect me to do?” was incredibly open given his situation. He was willing to help and that was the perfect opportunity to have him, you know, do something. Something small and innocuous that wouldn’t threaten the team if he betrayed them, but kept him around so he could talk to someone. But nope. Weiss just sends him to his room after criticizing him for not understanding that they’re “busy trying to save Atlas.” Weiss, what does Whitley know about all that? He’s locked up in this manor after your father was arrested and the one news clip we’ve seen said that no one knows why Ironwood recalled his forces, or what’s up with those grimm overhead. She’s acting like he should have any idea what’s happening right now.

Also, all of this is coming on the heels of Willow begging Weiss not to forget her brother, so that’s just great. RWBY has the rest of their time in the manor to fix this, because if Weiss comes out of that scene having only been handed the means of arresting Jacques… that’s just bad all around.

Finally, should we talk about how strange this choice is? Last episode we saw the group flying away and I assumed it was them leaving Atlas to go back to Mantle. It certainly looked that way, but now they’ve decided to stay until Nora is awake. Why? Isn’t it more dangerous here? I mean, they didn’t know the staff was gone and there are still arrest warrants out. Was Weiss just going to threaten anyone who dared report her? Where are these shields Ironwood spoke of? Have they gotten through them somehow, or are they currently trapped in Atlas?

This is “Oscar is in the slums, leaves the slums, learns they’re going to the crater, but the slums are actually the crater, so we’re heading back now” all over again. 

The one good thing about this scene is that Blake and Ruby talk! …for about two seconds lol. Eh, better than nothing. Blake says that if Ruby is worried about Yang she could try calling her. Ruby has, and Yang isn’t picking up.

Does Ruby think she’s in danger or ignoring her? Unclear. We, however, know that Yang is now lost in the middle of nowhere with no reception and no transportation back to Mantle. The three of them start trudging towards an outpost Ren spotted, needing to find shelter “before this weather drops our aura levels completely.” So what about everyone without aura?? I wish that I could check off the bingo space again because this is ridiculous.

Ren, once again, isn’t in the mood to talk, but unlike Jaune, Yang can’t leave something alone. So she coaxes him to tell him what’s wrong and you know what? She does a real good job at first. She’s encouraging, but her voice is level and she doesn’t come across as accusing. Well done, Yang.

Things quickly fall apart though as Ren says EVERYTHING I’VE EVER WANTED TO SAY TO THIS GROUP. Holy shit, everyone, let’s count ‘em up:

Nothing is going smoothly so let’s stop pretending it’s all fine

Oscar has been horrifically kidnapped that’s #bad

This is not a normal part of being a huntsmen

We don’t know the first thing about being huntsmen!

Every time we’ve had to make real decisions we got them all wrong, yay us

We’re trapping a city here for Salem to destroy whenever she feels like it, yay us x2

Our leader is barely more than a kid and one of us cheated our way here

People are going to die because of us

“I’m just saying what nobody else wants to”

Yang’s response? Incredibly weak imo. Just as weak as the fandom’s has been since this conflict started in Volume 7. Her argument against letting Atlas go is that Salem won’t just let it fly away with her whale… but no one knows that. She’s certainly just letting it sit right now! Assuming that something won’t work because you expect the worst is not a compelling reason not to try.

Her argument against their ineptitude? They saved Haven, took down a leviathan, and got the lamp to Atlas. Let’s break that down a little more.

Did they fight well at Haven? Yes… overlooking that Weiss would have died if not for a timely semblance reveal. But the real point here is that they “saved” the school by getting the Relic. Problem is, they never won the relic, it was handed to them. Literally. They retrieved it not because they were capable of overpowering Salem’s forces and a Maiden, but because Raven decided she’d rather her daughter be a target than her. That doesn’t tell us anything about the group’s skill, only about Raven’s flaws.

They took down a leviathan… after drawing it to Argus in the first place. That’s kind of an important detail when Ren is trying to make the point that their decisions suck. Also, how did they take it down? Using Ruby’s silver eyes, which only worked because Jinn randomly decided to let her stop time. Oh, and also using the rest of Cordovin’s mech that they hadn’t yet destroyed. Again, nothing about that fight demonstrates their skill, only others’ abilities, resources, and the strange favoritism they benefit from.

Getting the lamp to Atlas. Well, you drove Ozpin away who was your ticket across the border. Then Maria told Ruby how to save you all from the Apathy (and Ruby herself was the only one able to resist long enough to demand you get the Relic back in the first place). You started that leviathan fight and ended it surrounded by Cordovin’s fleet. So how did you get to Atlas? Because she let you cross. How did you reach Ironwood? Because he dropped your arrest. Yang stopped Adam, yes, but that was its own, separate fight. Regarding the “getting to Atlas” point they botched that up completely. 

Basically, this resume of victories is unpersuasive, to say the least. Yang highlights the end goal rather than acknowledging Ren’s point: have we, as individuals, actually made things better lately?

They absolutely have not. 

Note how, in contrast, Ren includes himself in this criticism. He doesn’t just lay responsibility at Ruby and Jaune’s feet, he’s second on the list for being underprepared. For messing up. He’s just an “orphan from nowhere” and this tells us that, unlike Qrow, Ren is actually concerned with this problem and his own place in it. He’s not just blowing off steam and running from his responsibility. Rather, he’s making important points here yet, as he says, no one else wants to listen.

And that’s why the scene ultimately sucks. “But, Clyde! It’s a speech straight out of your metas!” Yes it was and it was beautiful to witness, but the problem is that Ren’s supposed to be wrong. Jaune glares at him before leaving. Yang clenches her fists and asks if he just wants to push everyone away. He’s left hanging his head. Then later they talk about how “broody” he is and provide advice about how to stop doing that. The takeaway here is not, ‘Holy shit, Ren is right and we should rethink our choices,’ but rather that Ren is wrong and needs to come over to their ‘correct’ perspective.

I love that this was laid out. I love that the group is actually fighting for once (way better than Ruby and Yang’s ‘fight’). I also love that we finally see what’s bothering Ren… but we all know this isn’t leading anywhere. The scene ends with Jaune dismissing everything by stating that if Ren doesn’t want to be a huntsmen, fine, but he has a job to do. Ren is supposed to feel guilty here for… telling the truth? Jaune is supposed to look like the hero for soldiering on with his responsibility while moody Ren drags behind. The scene is great, but the purpose of the scene sucks.

Actually, I’d like to talk about a portion of the outpost scene real quick. Skipping ahead, because we really see here how little RT believes the words that they’ve put in Ren’s mouth. Jaune admits that he’s right about cheating into Beacon… but nothing else. Indeed, that “mistake” is swept away because he’s earned his right to be here now. You shouldn’t care about that anymore! Ignoring the point Ren was making about how much they’re in over their heads. Yang apologizes to Jaune on Ren’s behalf, making it clear that she cares more about his potentially hurt feelings than any of the points Ren made. Remind you of anything? Like oh, say, that time Yang cared more about Jaune’s feelings than whether he’d hurt Oscar after slamming him against a wall? All of this despite the fact that Yang JUST accused Ruby of the horrible situation they’re in. Now Ren acknowledges that they’re in a horrible situation and Yang… doesn’t care?? Again, RT is good at giving us the pieces we want, the surface level stuff, but is rarely able to combine it into something fulfilling. If anyone actually takes Ren’s stance seriously, changing their ways rather than talking him out of it, I’ll be shocked.

Especially since the real nail in the coffin of this scene is Jaune telling him that “The more you hide from what you’re feeling, the more alone you’re going to feel.”

Jaune………..buddy……….pal…………were you asleep during that scene? Ren DID tell you what he was feeling. For the first time he did come clean about everything he was experiencing and you both rejected him for it! He’s not pulling away because he’s hiding from what he’s feeling, he’s pulling away because he did show it and both his friends reduced it to “pushing [them] away.” Which is it, Jaune? Should Ren be more open, or should he stop saying things you don’t want to hear? It’s a more complicated version of telling your parents about your interests, them mocking those interests, and then they’re surprised when you don’t share things with them again. I mean, the gall of Jaune to reject everything Ren said in the moment, ignore it after he’s calmed down, and then lecture him about being hiding his emotions.

Jaune and Yang (and the story) don’t want Ren to say what he really thinks, they want him to say what they think. Ren should speak up, but only if he’s going to agree with them.

So Ren sits out in the snow because potentially dying from cold is better than staying in a room with Yang and Jaune. I can’t really blame him lol.

One last thing about the fight scene. Remember how May was put in her place last episode for not using Penny’s name? Well, Yang doesn’t either. Granted, “the Maiden” isn’t as overtly insulting as “tin can” (or whatever it is May said), but it amounts to the same thing: both are replacing Penny’s individual identity with her status as a tool they can use. May sees Penny as the cool tech girl who can get them into the military base. Yang sees Penny as the cool magic girl who is the answer to all their ‘How do we win this?’ problems. Everyone is using Penny. Ruby to launch Amity, Ironwood to open the vault, but you know RWBY will never have a scene where Penny corrects Yang about her name and Ruby looks on, smug. Because the group can continually make the same mistakes as the adults/antagonists around them, but aren’t called out on it in the same way. Ren calls them out and he’s told he’s wrong. 

Anyway, the tl;dr of this scene is that Ren is the best. Too bad the story doesn’t realize that.

We then move to my poor Oscar who wakes up looking at his own feet, Ozpin’s voice is as reassuring as it can be under the circumstances. “Oscar? Don’t panic. We’re going to be okay.” I mentioned two weeks back that I hoped the show would explain why we didn’t see Ozpin try to take control during the Hound fight and we still don’t have an explanation, so that’s disappointing. This line is all we get from Ozpin because that’s the norm now. We moved from him being written out of the story entirely to having one or two lines an episode (excluding a speech meant more for the audience than the characters). So, improvement? But a lackluster one, I think. Especially given that he is the focal point of this entire situation with Salem. 

I’m avoiding the elephant in the room though. Oscar’s torture is horrifying. In the sense that it should be horrifying. Salem might still inexplicably not be attacking Atlas—and what she’s after at any given time might be getting more and more muddled—but she’s absolutely terrifying here, which is what we needed. The mix of assault with that nurturing tone is just skin crawling. “My long lost Ozma. Found at last” while she (I think?) shows images of their daughters. Honestly, I only heard that from friends, didn’t catch it myself, but then my eyes are shit to begin with. I couldn’t see a thing in this shadowed shot.

(It’s like watching Game of Thrones all over again.)

Oscar tries to pretend to be Ozpin and he does a damn good job with “I’m sorry the reunion isn’t living up to your expectations.” It’s not enough to fool Salem though. She says he’s “not him” yet and I’m again reminded that the show continually references this merge without showing us any change. They’re apparently closer to one person now, but they still speak as individuals. Oscar has Ozpin’s magic, but hasn’t used it, even when his life was on the line. The closest we get to evidence that the merge is underway is that Oscar attempts to lie about knowing Jinn’s name… but what the hell else is he supposed to do here? I suppose he could go the action hero route and shout that she’ll never get the answer out of him, but trying to lie is by far the safer option. That doesn’t tell us that he’s becoming like Ozpin, or even that they’re truly “like-minded souls” as Salem claims. It just tells us that Oscar has two braincells to rub together and can say a short sentence without totally giving himself away. Maybe the kid played a few rounds of Remnant’s Among Us.

This moment highlights another justification for Ozpin’s secrets though. He lives an existence where he is not in control of his own (“own”) body. At any point the host he’s with could falter, fail, turn on him, and in doing so give crucial, world ending information to the enemy. It’s already happened on a small scale, with Oscar successfully taking control, stealing the Jinn information, and giving it to the group. Now here he’s being tortured. How long can he last? Will Oscar give up Jinn’s name? If Ozpin didn’t have the location of the Relic locked up tight in his own consciousness, would that information be lost too? I’m not looking to blame Oscar for anything here—I don’t want to imply that this situation is karma for him taking Jinn’s name, or some such nonsense—I just want to acknowledge that this is the sort of stuff Ozpin has to worry about. If he shares these secrets then that’s more fallible people who are capable of giving that information to Salem. If he keeps them…well, he’s the only one who has to keep his mouth shut during a torture session. His host might want information about the Relics, there’s an argument to be made that they’re entitled to them, but if I were Ozpin I wouldn’t want to take that risk either. The question has essentially become, “Would I trust a 14 year old to keep quiet while tortured by a witch?” Maybe Oscar will! He’s enough of a BAMF to manage it… but that’s still not something I’d want to bet on. Better that Oscar simply doesn’t have that information to give Salem, period. 

So obviously this “working relationship” that Salem wants isn’t going well. When Oscar lies she jumps straight to torturing him.

This was legitimately hard to watch and I’m torn about that. On the one hand it’s what I wanted: a scary, powerful Salem who uses the tools at her disposal to get what she’s after. That’s great! Yet I’m still reminded of how far this show has gone to literally beat up the child of the group. Oscar is the one punched into a tree, attacked by a friend, shot by an ally, the star of the show’s most horrifying kidnapping, now the first to be outright tortured by Salem. I don’t really have a point here, I’m not looking to level any specific accusations at RT, I’m just commenting on the pattern and acknowledging that it makes me uncomfortable. There are parts of a story where you’re supposed to be uncomfortable—like the villain torturing a hero—and then there are parts where you’re uncomfortable because the writers seem overly focused on showing images of a specific kid suffering and that’s… weird.

I’m not sure what to make of that just yet. 

Anyway, Salem’s magic here is surprisingly pretty. Pretty and painful, but I expected more red and blacks, perhaps some spikey imagery, so the rainbow was an interesting surprise. Given the amount of pain Oscar is in, I suspect too much of that would kill him, so Salem calls in Hazel to continue the interrogation. The first few hits he deals are for Haven, the others for his sister.

See, this is why RWBY needs to actually embrace its “life isn’t a fairy tale” theme. You cannot show me child torture in one week and then move to Ruby “We’ll win because we’re the good guys ^_^” Rose the next. The whole reason why Ironwood (and Ren now) was right is because this is the shit reality they’re dealing with. You didn’t run when you had the chance and now Oscar (and Ozpin) is being tortured. You keep talking about saving Mantle, but the only reason why they’re not already dead is because the writing randomly turns the cold danger on and off. This mix of horrific, real world danger and unjustified confidence doesn’t work.

…also, I officially don’t want any redemption arc for Hazel. This guy is beating on a child because he’s convinced that he’s Ozpin, blaming Ozpin for his sister’s decision, all while forwarding a genocidal maniac’s plans. Hazel and his ridiculous shirts can just get on out of here, thanks.

Finally, I just want to say... this is the woman a lot of the fandom defended. This is the woman you wanted raising those girls and blamed Ozpin for trying to escape with them.

This is how Salem treats children.

Oh, and all of this is without his aura because it just broke. So Oscar is in serious, non-fantasy trouble here. 

Someone please rescue him soon 😭

We finish up with some frankly boring stuff with the rest of the villain cast. We learn that the Hound is an “experiment” and a new one given that Cinder has never seen it before. Salem’s dialogue is admittedly great—“Do you hear that, my pet? She thinks. She wants.”—but Cinder just rehashes everything we’ve heard from her before. She wants the Winter Maiden power. She has trouble remembering that she’s playing at Salem’s slave. She even rehashes the exact same line, “Without you, I am nothing.” Why are we wasting time on this when we had that tantalizing backstory before? 

Bleh. 

Salem tells her in no uncertain terms to stay put.

So Cinder immediately leaves LOL.

She just wants to “check on” Amity tower because she “knows those kids” in ways Salem doesn’t. I’m admittedly slightly confused as to how Cinder knows to go there? Did she believe Ironwood’s lie that it was finished even though it apparently IS finished now? Has she overheard something? I’m not sure. Frankly, keeping track of that stuff in RWBY is headache inducing, so let’s just roll with it.

Neo, the only one with a brain around here, makes it clear she thinks Cinder is an idiot for going. Emerald, always the Cinder fan, offers to go in her stead. She’s been working on her semblance, so I expect we’ll see something cool with that soon. They head off, apparently not worried about what Salem will do to them when they get back.

Which is when we move to the outpost for our final scene, most of which I’ve covered. I only have two more things I want to bring up here.

The first is the tone. As said earlier, the tone of the Hound chase wasn’t horrible, but I find myself disappointed in the overall attitude of Jaune and Yang. Yang is making jokes about how they can’t fly, high-fiving Jaune, and they’re both shrugging off Ren’s concerns. Jaune says he won’t be able to sleep due to worrying about Oscar, but neither of them act particularly worried. Which isn’t to say they need to be sobbing the whole time or whatever, just that Ren is the only one who feels real here. They may not agree with his stance about everything else, but they’ve all experienced the same event: watching a grimm that can morph, talk, and think horrifically kidnap a teammate. Shouldn’t there be more emotion attached to that? Things have gotten better with Oscar than they’ve been in the past, largely due to details like Nora’s hug at the beginning of the volume, but let’s be real, they’re still not perfect. Do we think Jaune and Yang would be this nonchalant if Ruby were kidnapped that way? Say all you want about Ruby being her sister, or others being teammates for longer, but the fact remains that Oscar has been taken to Salem herself and the only one reacting to that in any meaningful way is Ren. 

Who they say will “brood himself to death.” That right there. The one guy freaking out about your kidnapped friend should not be described as “brooding.”

All of which segues into my second point, namely that Yang doesn’t seem to care about Ruby anymore either! She asks Jaune, “Do you think she thinks less of me?” for not going to Amity and when Jaune reassures her that Ruby will always love her, Yang’s response is, “Yeah… Ruby.”

She was thinking about Blake.

The kicker? I thought she was talking about Ruby too. Because Ruby is her sister. Because she and Ruby had the fight (“fight”). Because Ruby was trying to call her to check in. Because Blake and Yang didn’t even acknowledge that they went on different missions here. I thought Blake was like Jaune, not really taking a side and just heading with Ruby because the team is splitting down the middle. Where did this worry come from?

And I want to praise RT here (I really do) because I can see the effort. I said Blake and Yang needed to spend time apart, they have. I said they needed to work through their co-dependent identities, now Blake is reminding Nora (and theoretically herself too) that someone you love is just a part of you. I said that the group couldn’t be a hive-mind, now there’s disagreement. I said the show needs to make Blake/Yang canon at some point and you can’t do that if they don’t talk about and to each other. So I fully admit that this is everything I asked for… so why does it feel so badly done? No matter how many boxes it checks off, it’s still a moment where we thought Yang was finally worrying about her sister again—like she used—and then it’s ‘Sike! It was really just about Blake! Again. Yang is worried about a problem that was never even introduced.’

I suppose that’s why it doesn’t work for me. Yang and Ruby had the falling out, but Yang and Blake, somehow, become the focus. Is it really so hard to write Yang as a sister and a potential love interest? Yang apparently can’t care for Ruby and Blake, Weiss can’t care for her team and her brother, Ruby can’t care for Mantle and Ironwood… it’s like each character gets one (1) thing to put their emotional energy towards at any given time and that’s it. That’s all they get.

On the flip side, this is why Ren feels like a person this episode. He cares about Mantle, and the future fight, and their past mistakes, and his place here, and the problems within the team, and Nora… He feels like a well-rounded person! vs. Yang and Jaune who don’t even consider his perspective, vs. Yang having a fight with her sister but only cares about Blake. They’re one-dimensional in comparison.

It is, as always, disappointing. 

As the group “broods” then the camera shows us a piece of the ice nearby, slowly cracking as Jaune says that “Things always seem to get worse before they get better.” Well, that’s unexpected. I didn’t think our opening would be literal. I’ve been worried about Atlas falling on everyone, not everyone falling… to whatever is underneath the kingdom as a whole. Is the kingdom falling apart? Or is something waking up and moving towards the surface? If RWBY can reproduce the characterization we got with the Hound, I wouldn’t be opposed to another leviathan grimm rising from the snowy deep to assist Salem…

Though how the fuck group will survive everything and that, who knows lol.

And that’s our episode! Issues aside—most of which have been ongoing issues. We knew they were there—I think this was our strongest episode so far this volume. Well done! There are still problems, no doubt, but at least I was only bored for a small portion of that 20 minutes. Let’s just keep heading in that direction.  

Exciting Saturday, huh?

Regarding bingo updates:

RWBY actually re-used a grimm I thought they’d abandoned, so well done there.

No civilians around for the giant grimm army to attack, so that was fine. Kind of strange though that they completely disappeared after the Hound left.

The timeline is starting to get wonky. For example, what kind of stakes am I supposed to expect when Cinder decides to head to Amity? Is it currently empty? Is Pietro there? Has Penny made it yet? I said weeks ago that RWBY would need to follow multiple groups to fill out fourteen episodes in just two days—and they’re definitely doing that—but that means we don’t have a clear sense of what events are happening simultaneously and what are meant to be linear.

No Winter or Ironwood this episode.

Watts is back with Jacques! Potential for team-up 2.0? That will admittedly be hard with Qrow and Robyn there, unless those two escape.

(Oh yeah, I thought Qrow and the others would be held in the military base and Ruby would find him during her heist… but she doesn’t even care that Qrow is in jail.)

Maria is still a ghost. If we hit the halfway mark with her not doing anything I’m calling the space.

I definitely wouldn’t call this cliffhanger needless. That’s actually a cool way to end things, even if Jaune’s line was pretty on the nose.

Neo may be getting closer to backstabbing Cinder if those expressions are anything to go by. 

Still waiting to see if Amity works.

And finally, drumroll please! …

“More obvious Blake/Yang implications without confirming a relationship.” Yup, I’m marking that this week. After Blake’s ‘just a part of you’ comment and now Yang only being worried about her reaction? Definitely calling it. If RWBY confirms a relationship this volume I’ll eat my words—and some celebratory cake — but until then salt prevails. Especially after the fiasco that was Supernatural.

Still no bingo. Ah well, maybe next week lol.

Until then! 💜

[Ko-fi]

[bgn846]

Worthy Chapter 6: Trapped FFXV A/B/O Promnis

<Previous Chapter 5

A faint buzzing noise drifted in and out of Noct’s dream. His brain finally latched onto what it meant and woke him up.  His phone was vibrating with an incoming call, and it was three in the morning. A quick glance indicated it was Prompto, and Noct scrambled to pick up the phone.

 “Hey! Are you alright? What happened? I’ve been trying to call you all night,” the prince admitted.

 “Um – I might have to hide in my room for the rest of my life,” Prompto admitted in a small voice.

 “What the hell happened?” he asked, concerned.

 “That lady, um – Saeva. She tried to get me.”

 “What do you mean get you?  Are you hurt?” Noct asked, sitting upright in his bed with alarm.

 “She cornered me, and she had a knife.”

 “I’m waking Ignis up, and we are coming to get you right now!”

 “I can’t leave my mum, Noct. She doesn’t think anything’s wrong.”

 “Did you tell her snaky threatened your fucking life?!” Noct yelled into the phone.  “That’s gotta mean something.”

 “Hey, calm down, buddy. I can’t tell her. She wouldn’t believe me, anyway,” Prompto lamented.  “I can hide at home for a little while, but I’ll have to eventually leave the house. I don’t know what to do!”

 “So what do we need to do to get your mother to leave?”

 “I don’t know that either!” he wailed.

 “It’s okay, we are going to figure this out.  I gotta talk to Ignis, though, and see what he can do.  We need to get you outta there, like, yesterday.”

 Noct listened as Prompto recounted his whole ordeal.  It sounded terrible, and thank the six something had distracted her when they were alone together.  It took some convincing, but Noct finally agreed to not come and get him right then and there. The omega wasn’t going to leave his mother, so Noct needed to figure that out first.   Unfortunately, he had no time if this nasty woman was after him.

 After forty minutes, Noct could barely stay awake, and Prompto kept yawning.  He made the omega promise to call him when he woke up the next morning. He needed to be sure his friend was safe.

 Sleep was fitful at best, but morning finally came, and Noct exchanged text messages with Prompto.  He was still in his room with the door locked. Good. He was safe for the day, hopefully. Now to get Ignis updated and on the case.

    --

   “Are you sure he’s up for the task, dearest? I mean he’s not exactly – bright,” Saeva pondered in a hushed tone from behind a large column.

 “I’m telling you he’s perfect. Besides, I can’t really ask Alban, now can I?” Otho frowned.  He really was desperate to make the dark-haired woman happy. She’d unexpectedly visited Otho last night, and he was still feeling the effects of their activities.  A very small part of his brain recognized his actions as a betrayal to his older brother Alban. However, this opportunity was too good to pass up.

 Saeva had begged his help in a certain matter regarding his omegan step brother Prompto.  Turns out the little stinker was trying to work his way to the top of the line. Otho rarely spoke with Prompto, but according to Saeva he was plotting something nasty.

 Apparently, Prompto’s whole painfully shy routine was a façade. Saeva recounted how the blond had cornered her at the banquet and threatened her life.  The little bastard wanted her to leave and drop the engagement.

 Saeva had stopped several times during the retelling of the incident to cry.  Otho had made sure he was nearby to provide a shoulder to cry on. The most shocking part of the story was Alban’s reaction.   His older brother had supposedly dismissed the whole thing and claimed she was drunk. Then, to add insult to injury, he’d tried to force himself on her, but Saeva had managed to get away.  It was amazing that even as a rare alpha female, she still had trouble with this sort of thing.

 This beautifully delicate woman was in fear for her life, and Otho was determined to save her.  Otho had consoled her most of the night, offering to help in any way he could. Saeva had tearfully admitted the only way she would feel truly safe was if both Prompto and Alban were gone.   Without hesitation, Otho had pledged his assistance. He had to save her. His first task was to get Prompto out of the way; the wiry blond seemed like an easy target. Alban was another matter.

 Currently, they were both hiding behind a column waiting for Amet, one of his other brothers.  Otho knew he would be a perfect match for the job he had in mind. As Saeva had so pointedly noticed, Amet wasn’t the brightest.  However, his lack of basic life skills was essential if he got caught. Amet would most likely forget all important details pertaining to his given task.

 “Wait here, dove. I’ll be right back.” Otho offered as he slipped out to speak with Amet.  Saeva nodded and stayed out of sight.

 Sauntering over, Otho greeted his brother.  “Amet, I appreciate you meeting me away from the palace.”

 “Anytime, brother. You seemed stressed over the phone.”

 “Oh, very. Some information has come to light that indicates Alban’s life may be in danger.”

 Amet blinked stupidly for a few seconds before he could answer.  “How?”

 “This will sound crazy, but it appears our step-brother may be plotting against us all.”

 “Who?” he asked with an equally dazed expression.

 Sighing through his nose, Otho worked to control his temper.   Dealing with Amet came with certain challenges. “Our step brother, the omega,” he tried again, unwilling to actually say Prompto’s name.

 “Huh, which one?”  

 Otho was working hard to not yell.  “Not our half-brothers, Amet. Our step-brother.”

 “Oh right, Cirus.  He seemed fine when I saw him yeste--.”

 “Prompto!” Otho hissed, cutting his younger brother off.  “Our fucking step-brother, you nitwit!”

 “Oh, right, that one. I get them all confused.  Do you need me to deliver a message or something?” Amet asked innocently.  

 “What do you mean that one?” Otho sputtered. “We only have the one step-brother! Astrals, never mind. I need you to hire someone to make him leave the city.”

 “Cirus?”

 “No.” Otho growled, “Prompto.”

 “Oh, yeah. Right, the omega.”

 “Yes. Now can you handle that?”

 “Yeah, for sure. I can deliver a message to Cirus, no problem.”  Amet smiled.

 “No. Not Cirus. Please forget you ever mentioned his name.”

 “Of course, brother. Now what did you want again?”

 Otho balled his fits up and took a deep breath. He tried to control his scent. The last thing he needed was to set off Amet’s alpha rage inadvertently.   “I need you to hire someone to make Prompto leave the city.”

 “Who?”

 “Preferably someone that knows how to use force.”      

 “Right, that makes sense.  You know I could do it myself. I work out.” Amet beamed as he flexed his right arm.

 “I know you do, but hire someone.  I need Prompto to be gone by the end of the week.”

 “Consider it done, I’ll make Cir — I mean Prompto — leave right away.”

 “Good. Be sure to use the private account if you need to pay the person you hire.”

 “Uh, how do I find this person, anyway -  the one I need to hire?” Amet questioned with a furrowed brow.

 “Go to the shitty part of town with some cash and start asking people to help you get rid of someone.  They’ll want a name and money.”

 “Huh – that easy, eh.  Great, I’ll go get some money now.  Do you want to do dinner later?” Amet asked eagerly.

 “Forgive me, brother, but I’m otherwise engaged. Perhaps another time,” Otho offered as he backed away.  Amet waved goodbye and smiled as he turned to leave the empty corridor. Phase one had been set in motion.  Otho knew Amet would draw far too much attention during his mission, and once things were said and done, he’d probably go to prison for his role.  However, that would mean there was one less person to threaten his claim to the throne.

 Saeva was still waiting for him behind the column.  “Dear heart, I must go run an errand. Will you be free for dinner?”

 “Where are you going? What if Alban sees you?”

 “I’ll be alright; this is something I must attend to privately.  Women’s matters. You understand, don’t you?” She crooned.

 “Of course, dove. I’ll be waiting.”  Otho smiled. He watched as his dark-haired beauty quietly slipped away into the shadows.  Things had been set in motion. Now he just had to sit back and wait.

    --

     Ignis had been on edge all morning.  The prince had actually called him before Ignis had left his apartment.

 That never happened.

 Ever.

 Noct had been in a panic about Lady Saeva and how she was out to get Prompto.  The advisor listened dutifully and tried to calm his charge, but Noct was truly fearful over what might happen if they didn’t intervene.

 Thankfully, Ignis had enough foresight to send Nyx back to keep tabs on Saeva and Prince Prompto.  His nervousness at the moment stemmed from not having received a check in from Nyx. The soldier had arrived in Niflheim sometime in the middle of the night. Aside from a short text indicating he’d landed, Ignis had heard nothing else.  He knew he was riding a fine line sending a glaive into another kingdom to spy, but someone’s life was in danger.

 The person who      had     managed to clog his inbox was Noct. The prince had been texting him nearly every fifteen minutes wanting an update.  Ignis almost regretted telling him that he’d sent Nyx. However, the advisor knew if he hadn’t said anything, Noct would have been a total wreck.  This was a lesser of two evils.

 Finally, at around one thirty in the afternoon, Ignis received a text that wasn’t from Noct.

Nyx Ulric 1:32pm: This shit is real… o-o  sunshine still beaming, snaky is scary af.  Got job interview to go to now.

 Ignis stared at his phone. What in Titan’s name was Nyx up to in Niflheim?  Opting to keep it simple, he replied      good luck     and pocketed his phone.  He knew they couldn’t text exact details, but Nyx definitely had a way with words - or the lack thereof, Ignis wasn’t sure.

 Taking a deep breath, he continued on in his day, clinging to the small bit of Nyx’s text that read,      sunshine still beaming    .  Prompto was safe for now.  That’s what mattered.

     --

     Nyx had been following Amet Clavus, the third in line to the Niflheim throne, for an hour.  He’d been trailing Saeva Pravus all morning after she’d left Otho Calvus quarters. Nyx was too far away to hear what had transpired between Otho and Amet during their meeting, but he was sure it was important.

 Hoping his hunch was correct; Nyx chose to follow Amet for the afternoon.   His efforts were about to pay off big time. The hulking form of the alpha strolled ahead at a leisurely pace in the most disgusting part of town Nyx had ever seen.  If it weren’t for the fact that the man was clearly a body-builder and stood damn near close to Gladio’s height, he would have been robbed ages ago.

 Finally, Nyx was able to overhear what Amet had been asking people.  He needed a hired gun to run someone out of town. Putting on his best smile, Nyx wandered up to Amet and slapped him on the arm.   “Oi, I hear you’re in the market for some hired muscle. Can’t imagine why, though. You’ve got plenty to go around.”

 Amet stared at him for a moment and then smiled back.  “I do work out quite a bit. Every day, in fact,” he announced proudly. A burst of pheromones soon followed, confirming his happiness regarding the topic.

 “That’s excellent, gotta keep those muscles in peak condition.  So, I hear you need help with something?” Nyx tried again.

 “Oh!  Yes, I need someone to leave town by the end of the week.”

  “Uh – sure, I can help out with that,” Nyx replied, suddenly realizing that Amet was a few players short of a full team.

 “Great!” Amet breathed in relief.  “I really want to get back so I can work out again, and it was taking too long to find someone.”

 “Right, well, I’m your man.” Nyx grinned as he smoothed out his black denim jacket.  Ignis had instructed him to go undercover and not wear anything that could tie him back to the crown.

 “Ok, then, if you could swing by later and let me know when you’re done, that’d be great. I have to tell my brother.”

 “I can do that, no problem.” Nyx answered slowly even though the large alpha hadn’t given him a location.  Amet made to walk away, and Nyx scooted around in front of him again. “I just need a name and a deposit.”

 “Yeah! So it’s my half – no wait!” Amet paused dramatically holding his hands out. “It’s my step-brother, Cirus! Oh no, that’s not right, either!”  The man sighed and furrowed his brow clearly deep in thought.

 “Would it help if I tired guessing?” Nyx offered dryly.

 “It’s on the tip of my brain.”

 Nyx figured a lot of things were on the tip of Amet’s brain, but they’d been ignored for so long they’d turned to dust ages ago.  The glaive was about to start throwing letters out to help when Amet sprang back to life.

 “The omega!  His name begins with a P.  That’s all I remember.”

 “Where does this omega live?” Nyx questioned further.

 “With me.”

 “Oh – like, um, in the same house?”

 “No, a different one.”

 Nyx decided to take a different direction even though he knew who Amet was talking about and where Prompto lived. “So where do you live?” he asked gleefully.

 “Under the old keep. You know, in the government compound where the royals live,” Amet whispered as if it mattered.

 “Gotcha, I know where that is.  So I just need a deposit, and I’ll be on my merry way.”

 “Perfect. I really gotta go,” agreed Amet as he dug around in his pocket and handed over a wad of cash.

 Nyx nearly busted a blood vessel when Amet gave it to him.  The glaive pocketed it as fast as he could and hoped no one would come after him for it next.  

 “Bye!” Amet cheered as he turned and left.

 Nyx literally ran back to the airfield where he’d been hiding out.  The shed Prompto had hid his clothes in proved to be a perfect base of operations. Thankfully, no one followed him, and he hid the money after wiping off his prints.   Now to find out what Saeva was up to. But before he left again, Nyx texted Ignis once more.

 Nyx Ulric 3:48pm:          Got the job but it's night shift, boss doesn’t mind if it’s dark all day long.  I might have to take my work home with me if it gets difficult.  

     --

   Prompto flinched when his phone chimed.  He’d been on edge all day wondering if Saeva would try something again.  Prompto wouldn’t put it past her to visit his house; she truly was a snake.  Grabbing his phone revealed a message from Ignis.

Ignis Scientia 3:55pm: Are you doing alright?

 The blond blinked a few times.  Ignis was checking on him, but why?  He knew the advisor was aware of his predicament, but he didn’t think he’d text him directly.

Prompto Argentum 3:58pm: I’m okay, just nervous about seeing Saeva again.

 Ignis Scientia 4:00pm      :          I would advise you to stay in your room for as long as you can.  Do you still have Nyx’s phone number?  

 He thought about the nice beta soldier that they’d stationed outside Noct’s suite in Insomnia.  He still had the number, but he’d never used it.

Prompto Argentum 4:02pm: Yeah I still have it.

 Ignis Scientia 4:03pm:          Excellent. Keep it and call or text that number if you need immediate assistance.  Is that understood?  

 Prompto stared at his phone. Did that mean that soldier was here?  Was Nyx in Niflheim? That meant he could leave, if he had an escort.  However, he remembered he still had to convince his mother to leave.    

 Prompto Argentum 4:05pm:          Ok I will.  Thanks for checking on me.  

Ignis Scientia 4:05pm: Of course, anything to help.

 Waiting a few minutes produced no more messages, and Prompto focused on taking deep breaths.  He was going to survive this. He had people who wanted to help and who wanted to be friends with him.

    --

     Checking her phone once more, Saeva looked up and smiled sweetly at Alban.  The dolt was clueless about everything. He’d already completely forgotten about her issue with Prompto.  He was prattling on about the latest model car that had been released in Altissia and showed no signs of stopping.  “Darling, I feel a headache coming on. I’m going to retire to my rooms for a nap.”

 This comment seemed to shut Alban up.  “Oh, can I come?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.  

 Working to hide her disdain, Saeva smiled again. “Oh, I would love to have you, but I fear my headache is too great.  Rain check?”

 The slightly balding alpha seemed upset, but he backed off.  “Of course. Perhaps we could do dinner together?”

 “Wasn’t this lovely lunch enough? Besides, I fear I may still be sleeping later. Tomorrow?”

 Alban agreed, and Saeva finally stood to leave the stuffy room they’d been confined to for over an hour.  She had her own meeting to attend. Smiling, she quickly left the suites and went outside the royal compound.

 Things were going well.  The groundwork had been laid linking Otho and Amet with the plot to harm Prompto.  However, she still needed to arrange his actual death. She didn’t trust either of them to accomplish the task.  Amet was a good looking lump of muscle and nothing more. Otho was blinded by her kisses and promises. He didn’t stand a chance.  Now when the lowly boy turned up dead, they would go down for his murder.

  Alban, on the other hand, was moldable; she could work with that later.

 Meeting with an assassin for hire in the late afternoon wasn’t normal, but nothing Saeva did followed the rules.  Ducking into a side street, she huddled into her fur lined coat and waited.

 “I didn’t think you’d show up,” a sultry voice nearby called out.

 “I have a tight schedule to keep, so this was my only availability,” Saeva replied.

 “Hmmm, I see.  Details please?” the voice asked as the figure came out from an overhang.

 Saeva pulled a small envelope out of her inside coat pocket and handed it over to the woman approaching.  She was wearing a long fitted trench coat and military grade boots. After pocketing the item, the light haired woman smiled ever so slightly and stared at Saeva.  She made no move to say anything else, and appeared to be studying her.

 Taking a deep breath Saeva nodded curtly.  She was done with this transaction and needed to return to the government compound.   Suddenly, the other woman shifted and was directly in front of her. Saeva was unable to fight back when the assassin roughly shoved her into the wall.

 “Something about you doesn’t sit well with me,” she offered in a hushed tone.

 Saeva went to push her away, but something sharp poked her in the side.  This fucking bitch had pulled a knife on her. “If you want the rest of your fucking money, whore, I suggest you back off,” Saeva spit.

 “Oh no, how scary --” The woman drawled coolly.  “Listen up, gold digger. If you want to stay pretty, I suggest you keep your end of the bargain.  Also, my price just went up for your brass assumption regarding my sexual habits. Now, off you go. Run back to your big, strong, stupid alphas and play with them.”

 The anger bubbling up in Saeva’s veins was causing her to shake.  How dare this woman talk to her in such a manner. “Fuck off!” she hissed.

 The woman shrugged slightly and tilted her head. “If that’s what you want.”

 Biting back a yelp, Saeva felt the woman get      even     closer, as she leaned in with her full weight.  What in Shiva’s name was happening? The knife was a steady presence in her side, so she couldn’t move away.

 Saeva then felt a pair of sharp teeth near her neck.  “Stop it. I’ll pay the extra,” she relented unhappily.  She couldn’t risk getting bitten. The other woman was an alpha and knew what she was doing.  If Saeva had gotten marked, then she couldn’t marry the king. This fucking bitch was such a hassle.  She hoped that when she found Prompto, she’d make him hurt. The blade went away, and Saeva finally pushed the woman away and walked out of the alley. 

>Next Chapter 7 

[cumberbangers]

3. I'm sorry trump has said a few things over the years that make you uncomfortable. No one likes being uncomfortable. I'm not calling you names so please keep the insults to a minimum if you can. I'm only on anon because people on Tumblr like to send death threats to people who have different opinions and I'm sensitive as it is. Kneeling during the anthem to protest police doesn't make much sense. It only disrespects veterans. A different action to protest the police would be more effective.

I told you to stay out of my inbox, yet here you are again. Here’s the really funny thing: this message is apparently marked as the third in a series, yet it’s the only message I got. Please do NOT take this an invitation to send me the other 2 parts because I am NOT interested in anything more you have to say.

To call Donald Trump’s decades-long record of vile, misogynistic comments “a few things that make you uncomfortable” is incredibly dismissive and offensive. You refer to yourself as sensitive, but you certainly don’t act like it.

As for kneeling for the anthem being disrespectful to veterans, I can’t tell you the number of tweets I’ve seen from vets–and in one case a military widow–saying that this is EXACTLY what they fought for, so that people would have freedom of speech and the right to protest. They haven’t fought for a damn piece of fabric or for a damn song, they fought for American values. I would also like to point out that Bruce Maxwell, the first MLB player to kneel over the weekend, is the son of a vet and was born on a military base in Germany. I’m willing to bet that many of the NFL players who protested yesterday are the sons and brothers of veterans or people who are actively serving.

Protesting at games is pretty darn effective because it’s in front of a huge audience, both in front of people in the stadiums and the people watching on TV. Oh, and did you know that there were reports of people in some stadiums yelling insults at the players, including things like “Fuck you!”, during the anthem. So they were pissed off about the players protesting during the anthem, yet it was okay to yell profanities and insults during the anthem? This does not compute.

What this all boils down to is that yesterday wouldn’t have happened if Donald Trump hadn’t opened his big fucking mouth. If he hadn’t called Colin Kaepernick a son of a bitch and said players who protest should be kicked off the team, yesterday would have been just another regular Sunday in the NFL. I would also like to point out that what Trump did with those comments was an extreme violation of the First Amendment. The First Amendment is meant to protect the American people from retaliation BY THE GOVERNMENT for what they say. Trump, for better or worse, IS THE GOVERNMENT. Sarah Huckabee Sanders also committed that same ethical crime a few days ago when she said that Jemele Hill’s tweet about Trump being a white supremacist was “a fireable offense.” and apparently Ms. Huckabee-Sanders is going to be the subject of an ethics complaint because of it. This is what fascists governments do, they shut down dissent and punish the dissenters.

I’m not asking you to come off anon, and even if you did, I would never, ever send you death threats. I have never sent anon hate in my 5 years here at Tumblr, and I would never start now. I totally condemn anyone who does send death threats.

The one thing I AM asking of you is that, as I said before, you stay out of my inbox. I don’t want to hear from you again. Any further messages from you will be deleted and you will be blocked.

[howsit-going-toend]

What Do YOU Want? Pt. 9

A Kwon Jiyong series ft. Kim Jiwon

Genre: Angst/Fluff

Word count: 4,200+

Summary: The most important person in the world to you can appear most often when you least expect it. But through everything, you can’t forget about you and your own happiness. Who are you happy with? Who is the best for you?

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 ... Part 10

(A/N: Yikes! The word count is just going to get longer and longer honestly. We’re approaching some really good content so bear with me, guys! There’s a lot going on in this part, but as always: please enjoy!)

You’ve never been the type of person who liked surprises, especially when it came to your birthday. The one and only time anyone had ever attempted to throw you a surprise party resulted in you unintentionally punching one of your childhood friends in the mouth. Another time came in the middle of a haunted corn maze when you kicked a man wearing a clown mask, yielding a fake chainsaw in between his legs for attempting a jump-scare.

Having someone show up unexpectedly to your door wasn’t going to result in you decking them across the face, but it being your birthday definitely had you putting your guard up. A million possibilities danced through your mind as to who the hell it could be.

Your parents and relatives were across the globe and all your friends from Seoul were out of town. A salesperson? Late night FedEx delivery, perhaps?

Or, what if…

“I’m really sorry, someone just knocked at my door. This should hopefully be like two seconds, ok?” You said into the phone as panic began to overtake your senses while you slowly approached the door.

“Yeah that’s cool!” Bobby replied almost in a whisper, as if a chuckle was trying to escape his lips.

You hung up the phone and placed it in the pocket of your sweatpants as you got on tiptoes to look through the peephole. Whoever was out there had something in their hands that completely obscured your vision, making it nearly impossible to even identify that it was a person in front of your apartment.

With a deep breath and a sweaty palm, you reluctantly unlocked the door, swinging it open to reveal the figure before you. Your hands immediately flew to your mouth with an audible gasp as you saw Bobby reveal himself from behind a bouquet of flowers that was nearly half your size; an enormous grin painted across his face.

“Oh my god!! What are you doing here, you’re not supposed to be back for another week or two!” You yelled through your hands, eyes widened in shock.

He laughed at you while he readjusted the bouquet to lay comfortably in one of his arms. “Oh, well, I mean I can leave and come back next week if you’d rather wait…” He pretended to start to leave while you jumped out of your doorway to wrap your arms around his neck. “No, no, no, you know that’s not what I meant, jerk!” You both laughed through the insult while he picked you up and spun you around, carefully ensuring to preserve the flowers.

For just a second, your mind flashed back to all the local radio stations you’d listened to in the past couple days; all saying that BigBang had been continuing their world tour somewhere across Asia.

You sighed.

A wave of relief flowed through each of your muscles as you relaxed into his embrace. You knew he was one of the few people in the world that could, in that moment, be an exception to your disdain for surprises.

“In between locations, huh?” You teased, mocking his alibi used on the phone earlier.

As he set you back down on your feet, he captured one of your hands in his and extended the bouquet to you; contorting his face to try to appear shy while you giggled in response.

“Ahh, these are beautiful, you didn’t have to get them!” Though you’d never accepted store-bought gifts well either, flowers were the one exception. You remembered this as you leaned forward to sniff the gorgeous array of roses and daisies Bobby had just given you.

“It’s your birthday, Y/N! Why wouldn’t I?”

“Oh yeah, I keep forgetting about that. I actually totally forgot I even told you about it.” You laughed at your forgetfulness while you looked up from the flowers to see Bobby scratching his head and looking at the ground.

“Well hey, I love them. Thank you.” You brought a hand up to the side of his face and stood on your tiptoes to leave a small kiss on his cheek.

His big smile returned as he looked into your eyes, now that your faces were closer than they had been in nearly two months. He reached out to sweep some hair behind your ear before closing the space between your lips. You both smiled into the kiss, knowing just how long you’d been waiting to do so again. You’d found yourself craving his lips in the time that he was gone and having them finally connected to yours again felt like a balance had been restored.

As you ended the kiss with one last peck, you looked up to meet his gaze. “I missed you.” You whispered, while he beamed in response and lightly ran a thumb across your cheek. “I missed you too, Y/N.”

He pulled away and clapped his hands together, slightly startling you as he gently turned you back around towards the inside of your apartment. “All right! Go get ready.” He exclaimed as he walked you inside with his hands resting on your shoulders.

“For what, may I ask?” You laughed nervously, unsure if you’d already had your fair share of surprises for the day.

“I’m taking you out to dinner with the boys.”

“What! Really?!” You shouted a little louder than intended as you spun back around to look at him with a shocked smile.

“Yes, really.” He replied, grinning ear to ear at your giddiness. “We promised, remember? Now go, go. We’re already late. Even if it is your birthday, B.I. will never let us hear the end of it.”

You quickly set the flowers down and skipped off to your closet, knowing he was completely right. It looked as though you were destined for a Happy Birthday this year after all.

You enjoyed some of the best barbecue pork in the city as you shared a table with seven of your favorite people. You exchanged stories as your bellies became fuller and fuller, each of you clutching your stomachs and wiping tears away as you laughed your asses off. This was the first time you’d been around all of them in months and you couldn’t imagine spending the night of your birthday any differently.

After all the food was finished and those of you that could drink had polished off the last of a bottle of champagne, everyone’s proper posture had completely dissolved into a slouch. You’d melted into Bobby beside you, resting your head on his shoulder with a contented smile gracing your lips as he played with your hair.

You momentarily averted your gaze from the full table down to your phone while the boys continued conversing. Your parents had called you on the way to dinner, several friends and former colleagues had texted you in the past few hours, and yet you found yourself regularly checking your inbox, only to feel disappointed.

What did you expect?

You’d thought months ago that the only interaction you were certain you’d have with Jiyong would come on your birthday and his. You thought the least either of you could give to each other was that shred of acknowledgement of the other person’s existence, but evidently you thought wrong. Maybe it really was too much to ask that he remembered just this once. At least he was enjoying himself.

“Hey, are you having a good time?” Bobby’s voice came to your ear, bringing you out of the trance you’d gotten unintentionally sucked into while staring at your phone. You looked up at him and smiled as you put your phone, along with any stress it was causing, away. “Yeah! I am, I promise. I just keep getting distracted by the Birthday messages, you know?” He nodded understandingly and smirked. “I just want to be sure.”

You ended the night wrapped in his arms as the two of you lounged in one lazy heap on your couch. You’d parted ways with the other members after dinner, picked up an arsenal of desserts and snacks and returned to your apartment. Since you’d insisted on not telling the restaurant it was your birthday, Bobby had decided it was only fair that he sang Happy Birthday to you himself, horrendously off key, as many times as he wanted until midnight. Majority of his attempts resulted in you shoving food in his face after just the first couple of bars, which made you both erupt with laughter until he finally gave up.

You were grateful for his silliness which continued to successfully draw your attention away from your phone that rested on the coffee table with its continuous lack of notifications.

It wasn’t long before the inevitable food coma began to pull at both of your conscious minds. You fought a war with your eyelids until the rising belly of the body beneath you, followed by a rumbling snore indicated Bobby had lost the battle long ago. You removed your stare from the television screen to his face as you observed all of his calm features. You leaned forward enough to leave a light kiss on his lips while he subconsciously kissed you back, making you giggle in response.

It had been quite some time since someone did something for you that was as thoughtful as what he did today; you truly didn’t think that he had it in him.

As you silently reflected on everything to be thankful for in your life at that moment, smiling into Bobby’s chest as you began to close your eyes, the brightness of a phone screen on the coffee table briefly awakened your senses. Your eyes fluttered for a moment, adjusting enough only to realize the phone belonged to Bobby and not you. As you allowed yourself to surrender once again to the night’s end, a very small voice told you that Jiyong’s name had been displayed on that screen.

“Yah! Listen, you need to pull yourself together and get this damn choreography right, got it?” You were openly scolding yourself through the mirror of your dance studio in the middle of a Sunday afternoon about a month after your birthday; it was nothing out of the ordinary. You only had until the following day to put together all new lessons to teach while catering to each class’ skill level, so you were slightly stressed.

As you resumed play on the week’s master mix and proceeded to run through some moves, the bells at the front lobby immediately pulled you out of focus. You silently cursed yourself for not locking the door behind you as you quickly turned the corner to tell whoever it was to leave. As you opened your mouth to scold them, you immediately recognized the two men marching towards you.

“Oh, hey! What are you guys doing here?” You exclaimed with a confused smile while Bobby and Mino approached you with great purpose in their stride.

“Y/N! You have to come with us right now, it’s urgent!” Bobby said while grabbing your hand in his and led you to the front door.

“Wait, wait! What’s going on? I’m in the middle of something! ...At least let me get my bag and my keys god damnit!” You shouted with fake annoyance as the two ignored your questions and continued to walk you out of the building.

“Well, hurry! We only have a small window of opportunity here.” Mino advised as you obeyed without further questions and retrieved your bag before following them outside to a car. You quickly justified not spending the rest of the day working by assuming whatever it was that the two men were on about had to be pretty important.

“All right put this on.” Mino handed you a blindfold after you’d gotten in the car. You held a palm up to it and raised an eyebrow towards Bobby. “She doesn’t have to wear that, I thought we weren’t going to make her wear it.”

“It makes more sense for her to wear it!”

You crossed your arms in between the two arguing boys as the car sped down the highway, towards the heart of Seoul. “You guys are new to the whole kidnapping thing, aren’t you?” You teased.

“… All right put the blindfold on.” Bobby said, managing a straight face while you pouted in response and placed the cloth over your eyes.

After a few minutes of conversation, the car gliding over an all too familiar set of speed bumps brought you back to your surroundings. “What the hell. Guys, why are we at YG right now?”

“How does she know that?!” Mino exclaimed, waving a hand in front of the blindfold in amusement while you and Bobby both laughed.

“Guys, for real though. I can’t be here. This place is only for idols and people who actually still work in the building.” Your palms became damp as the thought of Yang seeing you in the halls began to haunt you.

“Relax, Y/N, that’s what we meant by the window of opportunity. He’s been out of town and just about everyone else is in a location we can easily avoid to get where we’re going. Plus, we’re at the back door and no fans should be around with cameras either.” Mino assured while you heard the sound of both car doors opening.

“And where is that exact…ah!” Bobby had reached in and pulled you out bridal style before you could even finish your inquiry. He carried you hastily through the parking lot and into the back entrance.

The familiar scent of the first floor smacked you in the face with nostalgia as you were carried blindly through it. You were certain you could have found your way to the elevators, still blindfolded, entirely on your own with how many times you’ve walked through these halls. 

As you were set down in the elevator and allowed to remove the blindfold, you rubbed your eyes to adjust to the amount of light that now greeted them. Your sight was quickly restored and you glanced at Bobby and Mino beside you in the confined space to find both of them sporting mischievous looks. You scowled at them until the elevator dinged; you recognized the floor as the one that held all the recording studios.

As the doors opened, you turned to see a big grin appear on Bobby’s face as he grabbed your hand and started to run with you out into the hallway. You brought your other hand to your mouth in the hopes to shield the giggles that couldn’t be controlled while you followed his lead; Mino jogging right behind you both.

The grin on your face completely dissolved and your heart followed suit, sinking to your stomach as he stopped in front of the biggest studio. You paused outside the big glass door, remembering all of the countless times you’d been here; every good and bad memory that went along with it flashed before your eyes.

There was no reason for you as a choreographer to even go near this floor; Yang reminded you of this on every occasion he caught you “distracting” Jiyong in this room. A smile brought itself back to your face as you recalled the man’s facial expression when he’d walk in and see you standing behind Jiyong, rubbing his shoulders while he worked. “Y/N being here makes me want to be a better artist. She’s not going anywhere.” He would say this to Yang in defense of your presence while you’d look at the man with a “yeah, so take that” smirk across your face. That was certainly one of the better memories.

“Y/N! Are you coming in or just going to stand there smiling at nothing!” Bobby whisper-yelled to your immobile state, bringing you back to the task at hang. You hopped past the door while Mino shut it shortly after and gestured to the desk in front of the monitors. Bobby stood behind the first chair and smiled. “Sit.”

You laughed in amusement and sat down as your mind ran back to all the times you’d been asked to sit in that same chair to listen to songs nobody else had heard before. It never failed to make you feel special and this time was no exception. You beamed, grinning from ear to ear as Bobby leaned over you to navigate the main computer’s desktop and pulled up a series of files.

“All right, so what you’re about to hear is something Mino and I have been working on for a while now.” Bobby explained, unable to maintain a serious expression as he observed your overjoyed one.

“Yeah, so please be nice to us!” Mino added from his position of look-out by the door while you all laughed lightly. You clapped your hands together and placed a fist on either side of the desk. “Let me hear it!”

Without further comment, he pressed play on the first file. You smiled even wider as Bobby’s voice began the song. The beat soon dropped into a syncopated rhythm, sounding like all of your favorite party songs combined into one perfect blend. You danced in your seat to the pumping volume of the music as Mino and Bobby’s verses flowed by; they sounded like superstars and it filled your heart with pride.

Both of them had huge smiles on their face while they lip synced along with the lyrics and watched your reactions. As the song came to an end, you spun around in the office chair to provide feedback before Bobby put his hands on your shoulders and turned you back to the monitor. “But wait! There’s more!” he declared.

“What! Oh my god, wait…are you guys forming a subunit? As in, actually putting out an album together?” All either of them did was smirk as the next song began to play. You were all the more proud and excited for them now as you leaned forward on the desk to continue to lend an ear.

“Shit! Guys, guys, pause it, someone’s in the hall and I think they’re heading over here. Y/N, hide.” Mino had run over from his spot by the door not even a minute later to alert the two of you; his face suddenly filled with worry.

In what felt like half a second, you looked to both of them and immediately slid down the chair to hide under the desk. Your heart raced as you felt the nervous sweat already start to form at your hairline. If the person coming was actually Yang, you would surely be banned from YG altogether. There was no telling how much trouble it would get Mino and Bobby in; these two were still young so they were bold enough to make such a risk all for the sake of someone hearing their music. You tensed and relaxed your fists repeatedly as your worries grew and grew.

“Oh fuck, it’s GD.” Mino whispered just loud enough for you to hear from your location.

Your breathing stopped altogether as you looked up from your place under the desk at Bobby, who was already looking at you with an expression you found impossible to read. He quickly sat in the chair and gently guided you to a more concealed spot with his legs. You placed your shaking palms on his knees and watched as he turned his head in the direction of the door. He leaned back in the chair slightly, so as to appear more casual, giving you a better look at his face. His eyes were intense as they fixed themselves on the glass door.

Your cheeks burned and your chest ached with the amount of anxiety flowing through you. This was his studio. Jiyong spent more time in this room than absolutely anyone. Hell, probably more than he probably spent with you throughout your entire relationship; if he was in that hallway then he was sure to enter at any second.

You never wanted to disappear into thin air more than you did the moment you heard that door open.

“Ah, I didn’t think anyone would be here today. My apologies, I hope I’m not interrupting the creative process.” Jiyong’s voice rang through the studio in sing-song fashion. It was the same voice you’d heard a million times over through this very set of speakers you now crouched beneath.

“No, no, not at all, hyung. We’ve been finished with our songs for some time now. We were just giving it all another listen.” Mino chimed in reply.

“I see. You two be careful with that; you don’t want to fix something that’s not broken and ruin it all. I know the feeling well.” Jiyong had a very specific voice that he used when talking about work, especially around his juniors. The tone was authoritative and strict, yet sincere. You hadn’t heard it in over a year and listening to him talk like that now was almost physically painful with the amount of memories it brought back.

Bobby nodded in agreement, still not saying a word while Jiyong continued. “Well how’s it all going? Everyone in the building has been saying great things. We’re all really excited for the two of you.” You could hear the smile in his voice.

“It’s going great!” Mino piped. “I’m pretty nervous though, since this is my official solo debut. Bobby’s used to this. He did solo collaborations before his group had even debuted after all.”

“Hey, hey, this is still technically my official solo debut too, come on now.” Bobby forced a smile to go along with his humble words.

“That’s true but you really have accomplished more than the average YG artist. It is very admirable.” Jiyong said in a matter-of-fact manner. “But Bobby already knows I’m envious of him.” Bobby nervously smiled and bowed his head in response as Jiyong continued.

“Mino, actually, can you do me a favor? Can you go slide this envelope under CEO Yang’s door upstairs? It’s really important and I’m already late for where I need to be.”

“Absolutely! I’ll be back in a minute, guys.” Mino declared as the room fell completely silent except for the sound of the glass door closing. You wished for nothing but to have been able to run right after him and completely remove yourself from this emotionally and physically uncomfortable situation.

You watched as Bobby bit down and tightened his jaw as his eyes followed his senior. He leaned forward onto the desk to further shield you as subtly as possible; Jiyong was walking closer.

You gulped as the beads of sweat started to fall down the sides of your face. You did the best you could to control your breathing to the point that your chest began to ache. There was no way you were ready to hear this man’s voice so close to you again.

“How is she?”

And there was no way in hell you were ready to hear that either.

You whipped your head up towards Bobby so suddenly that your hair brushed against the underside of the desk. After covering your mouth with one of your hands, silently thanking yourself for not ruining everything by actually audibly hitting your head, you resumed complete focus on their conversation.

“She’s good.” Bobby said plainly. “Hey, BigBang was in China around the same time we were, I think! How did you like it?”

“Did she have a good birthday?” Jiyong completely ignored the obvious attempt at deviating from the subject of you and persisted with his questions.

“Yeah, she did. Yours is coming up in a few days too, right, hyung?” Bobby laughed nervously as he tried to steer the conversation once again.

“You didn’t answer my phone call that night, so I assumed you were having a good time. Did she like the flowers?”

As you waited for Bobby’s reply, his hand slowly made its way to yours non-conspicuously; you didn’t realize the vice grip you held his knee in and immediately released it once you felt his thumb run across the back of your hand. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire.

“Yeah, she loved them.” Bobby’s voice sounded defeated.

Jiyong paused before replying as silence fell on the room once more. “I’m glad to hear. She loves getting flowers….thank you.”

“Please don’t thank me.” Bobby insisted in a low voice.

“No, I want to. Thank you for making her happy.” He paused once more before letting out a sigh. “Well, I must be going now. Good luck with the debut and please let me know if you need absolutely any advice or anything. I’ll see you around, I’m sure.”

Bobby stood up from behind the desk to bow, indicating that Jiyong was already close enough to the door and couldn’t see you. “Thank you, hyung. See you around.”

As the sound of the glass door shutting echoed in the room, you stayed in your position beneath the desk; you sat with your arms wrapped around your knees and your gaze set on the floor. You didn’t know whether you wanted to scream, break something, or just sit there and cry. Once again, nothing made sense.

Bobby stayed silent for what felt like ten minutes. It wasn’t until his feet appeared in your field of vision on the floor that you knew he was even still in the room. The two of you never spoke about Jiyong. Ever. He wasn’t even brought up in group settings. This was not how you could have expected to begin your first actual conversation about him.

“Y/N…please say something.” His low, husky voice pierced the silence. You didn’t budge from your spot; you didn’t even turn your head to look up at him. Anger, confusion, and sadness flowed through your veins, bringing you to drop your forehead to your knees as you gripped them tightly.

“What the hell was that about?” You muttered in an almost whisper. Bobby’s sigh let you know that it was just loud enough for him to hear. You felt his shadow cover you as he knelt down in the chair’s place below the desk.

“It’s a long story.”

[eastoaksdalestreet]

Chapter 4

CONTAINS STRONG LANGUAGE AND SEX SCENES

Carol was checking her emails. She was wondering why she hadn't received her bills as it was that time of the month.

Nothing in the inbox.

Closing the laptop, she made a phone call. Something clearly wasnt right. But as she dialled the number, something came through the letter box. Sighing, she went to the letterbox and picked up the envelope.

She looked horrified. Sprawled in big letters was the sentence. 

EVICTION NOTICE.

When Carol read the full contents of the letter and the reason why she and Billie were being evicted, her anguish turned to anger. It was due to Billie’s behaviour with a local gang who had been terrorising the streets.

When Billie came in an hour later, Carol was ready for confrontation. 

“Have you seen that letter on the end table?” She said in a deadly whisper. Billie looked at her and shook his head then Carol thundered,

“ITS AN EVICTION NOTICE THAT’S WHAT IT IS! BECAUSE OF YOU AND THAT BLOODY GANG YOU'VE BEEN KNOCKING ABOUT WITH! TERRORISING THE NEIGHBOURS AND CAUSING TROUBLE! NOW WERE GONNA BE EVICTED AND THAT’S THE LAST THING I NEED AFTER EVERYTHING THAT’S GOING ON!” 

Billie looked at Carol. He had never seen his mother so angry. As she began to cry, Billie didn't know what to do. He could comfort her, that would help but she would push him away. Instead, he retreated to his room, wanting to the most of the time they had left in the flat.

The Barton kids were at college, the farm and school and Moira had the time to spend with John. After finishing her shift early, she and John came home and embraced. Things seemed so perfect for them at the moment and the revelled in the moment. In fact they were so wrapped up in their own happiness that they didn't see Hannah come home and cry due to the bullying she was receiving at school. It had started a few months ago and showed no sign of stopping. It didn't help that things were being posted about her on the internet.

Carol and Billie moved in with Bianca and Ricky, the day after the eviction notice arrived. There was no point of sticking around after that had arrived. The house was crowded but somehow they would manage. Billie knew that he had to get back in his mothers good books and he decided to get a job at Butlers farm helping Adam Barton on the farm. Carol was pleased by his efforts and decided to accompany him.

As Carol and Billie arrived at Butlers farm, Moira was heading into town.

“Oh hello you must be Carol.” She said pleasantly and Carol smiled and nodded,

“That’s right, I’ve come about the job for my son.”

“My Husband is in the house, talk to him about it. He knows about it more than me.” Moira remarked and headed into town.

Carol walked inside and was approached by John and Carol was amazed at handsome he looked, he reminded her of.....

She couldn't think of David. She hadn't heard from him for a long time and began to think that he had lost interest.

“Hello You must be Carol and its Billie that’s after the job. I’m John and Moira is my wife. I’ve got three kids Adam, Holly and Hannah. Is Billie your only child?” John asked and Carol shook her head,

“No I’ve got three other kids, Bianca,Robbie and Sonya. Grown up off course with kids of their own.” Carol said fondly.

“You don’t look like a grandmother to me.” John said sweetly and Carol smiled. She liked him already.

As Carol and John talked, she was aware of what responsibilities Billie would be doing and they enjoyed each others company. 

“Ill send Billie to the farm first thing in the morning. Thank you for giving him a chance. Hes really determined to make a go of another chance.” Carol remarked and John hugged her before they said goodbye. Carol wished she had a man like John, someone to love her and care for her.

It had been two months since Chas and Carls love affair had been exposed and they were now officially a couple. Although Aaron had forgiven Chas, it was clear it would a while before she could repair the damage that she had done.

“You spoken to Aaron?” Carl asked and Chas shook her head.

“Do you think hell ever forgive me?” Chas asked sadly, it was clearly bothering her that Aaron wasn't haven't proper conversations with er like they used too. Carl held her close,

“Yes he will babe. I promise, its just something to get used too.”He whispered. Chas kissed him, feeling the warmth of his body against her and then when she saw the cheeky grin on his face, she lead him upstairs.

Within moments, they were undressed and Carl was pumping away at her on the bedroom floor. Thankfully, Jimmy and Nicola were out with Angelica so there was no chance of getting disturbed. Chas loved it when she and Carl made love to each other, it always made her feel warm and tense.

Sometime later Chas was checking the internet at clothes websites for some deals when an email notification popped up, it was off Aaron.

Hey Mum,

Look at this. Someone is slagging me and you off.

Aaron xxx

Chas clicked the link and her eyes widened when she saw what it said.

“Chas Dingle needs to keep her legs crossed and look after that lunatic of a son of hers. No wonder she cant keep a man.”

Chas felt angry about this. Whoever had sent was gonna get battered good and proper.

Chesney was playing with his dog Schmicheal. He loved the dog dearly and wouldnt be without him. The love he had for him was overwhelming. He lived with his sister Fiz and her husband John whom he didn't like. He didn't make it obvious out of loyalty to Fiz, he loved his sister and she had been more of a mother figure than his own mother Cilla had been.

“Everything alright Ches?” Fiz asked after she came home from work. Chesney nodded,

“Yeah everythings fine.” Chesney remarked with a smile. Fiz was pleased for him.

Before he went Chesney went on Facebook to see what everyone was up too. He laughed at Kirk's photo of himself in the rovers and made sick noises at Becky and Steve then he suddenly was redirected to a website entitled “Worlds biggest losers.co.uk” Chesney was shocked when he read the third paragraph

“Saw a young teen today, heard his name is Chesney. With a name like that i wonder if he can pull.”

Chesney was horrified. Someone had it in for him and they barely knew him.

Fiz came in,

“Chesney you have school tomorrow. Turn that computer off.” She said and Chesney turned to face her.

“Fiz someone is chatting about me and saying things. Look.” Chesney said and he showed the comments to Fiz.

“Were going to the police Chesney. This is Bad!” Fiz said, shocked by this.

As February progressed and no leads regarding the online hate campaign, the residents decided to continue life as normal.

Carla came home after another stressful day at the Underworld. Nothing had improved since Christmas and she was very worried.

“You ok love?” Michelle asked as she came back from a drink with Maria. Carla shook her head,

“Things are falling apart love. I feel like a failure. And to make matters worse, theres stuff going missing like knickers and bra’s. There’s a thief in our factory!” Carla exclaimed. Michelle raised her eyebrows and Carla could see that she was hesitating.

“What is it?” Carla's asked. Michelle hesitated then said,

“I could be wrong but I did Mercedes the other day hanging about by the stock cupboard. Mercedes McQueen. You know her whose sister worked for Roy and Hayley for a bit.”

Carla briefed over this piece of information carefully then she headed out. When she got her hands on Mercedes, there would be hell to pay.

Carla tracked Mercedes outside StreetCars where she was flirting with Lloyd. 

“Oi you come here!” Carla shouted. Mercedes was shocked by Carla’s attitude. It was clear that Mercedes was a thorn in Carla’s side since she started working for her three weeks before.

“What have I done?” Mercedes asked and Carla got wound up.

“Ill tell you what you've done! You've been stealing, you fucking thief!” Carla yelled. Mercedes scoffed,

“What have I supposed to have stolen?!” 

“Dont play the innocent with me! Knickers and Bra’s thats what. And I want them back!” Carla shouted.

Mercedes was getting annoyed.

“I havent stolen anything! This is wrong this is!” She shouted.

“You and your family are nothing but thief's and slappers the lot of you!” Carla shouted and before she knew it Mercedes slapped her in front of Peter who was walking past. He was unsure of what to do.

It wasnt long before a full blown fight took place right in the middle of the street with slaps and punches being administered and insults hurled. The fight was broken up by Michelle after Peter informed her what happened.

Andy returned home after a long day at Butlers farm. It had been tiring and he was keen to get home and sleep. As he walked in, he was shocked to find Victoria still up and on the internet.

“Vic what you doing?” Andy asked and Victoria looked at him.

“Just browsing.” She said quickly,”Its for homework.”

“Right. Well you should be in bed you have school tomorrow.” Andy said and Victoria nodded.

Whitney was checking her emails. She had Billie on her mind and it was evident. She had just sent him flirtatious text messages and loved the responses. She was unaware that Holly also was interested in him and had attempted flirting with him since he started at Butlers farm. As Whitney was about to shut down, a message popped up in her inbox and she clicked the link, Whitney was shocked by the message from the website,

“You would have thought that Whitney Dean would have learned when it comes to men but shes becoming a walking STD given that she is now toying with the affections of The Bartons latest farm boy.”

Whitney was horrified, was someone watching her? She didnt know. 

Carmel was upset. She had become the latest victim to the online hate campaign. She had been looking at her emails and received an anonymous message like Whitney had.

“After doing my research on the McQueen's I've found out the blonde bimbo Carmel is the biggest dumb blonde ever, with her boring personality its no wonder men find her dull.”

Carmel was clearly by this, Mercedes and Jacqui wanted to hound the person down and beat the shit out of them.

Myra came home. She had been to a party at the Dog and Pond and looked quite nice. She saw the troubled look on Carmels face and sat beside her,

“Whats up love? Your still upset over that comment about you arent you? Listen Carmel you are beautiful inside and out and your a sweet girl and that why Men fall in love with you, take no notice of some idiot on the internet, their not worth it.” Myra said and Carmel smiled at her.

Whitney was once more on the internet analysing the comments about the others including the comment about herself. She wondered what the motive was behind the hate campaign. Was it bitterness? Jealousy? A cruel joke? She didnt know.

As she wrote a secret admirer not to Billie, another message appeared on the website. Whitney analysed the message, it was about Billy Mitchell.

“Billy is by far the biggest idiot Walford has ever seen and I should know. I know him from my being on the game days. He is forever gonna be alone they way he is going.”

Whitney stood up and turned the computer off.

 As Whitney was about to leave, she received a text message from Billie,

Wanna meet up later? x

It was off Billie and Whitney smiled as she replied,

I will later, Think Ive made a breakthrough with this campaign on the internet xx

Whitney headed out and made sure Ryan didnt catch her in the process.

Val and Eric Pollard owned a BandB in Emmerdale not far away from the woolpack. It was a popular place and they were very proud of it. Whitney had got the address from Holly and instead of going in, she went round the back, she saw the culprit behind the hate campaign.

It was Janine Butcher.

“How could you?! Why did you do that?! Put all that stuff on the internet!” Whitney shouted. Janine looked at her,

“Dont know what your on about!” She said unconvincingly. Whitney went for her but was stopped by Val.

“The online bullying! You've been saying awful things about people! Making people’s lives a misery!” Whitney yelled. Janine rolled her eyes.

“People need to get a grip, its only abit of light entertainment, people need to chill out over some daft comments i didn't even mean!” 

Whitney slapped her then and had to be pulled back by Val who was worried the other customers would see.

“What about teenage girls who feel rubbish about themselves already without having some bitch like you making it worse for them?! Hannah Barton ring any bells?!”

“What?! Ive never picked on teenage girls, I dont know anyone called Hannah Barton, I may have said some things about some other people but definitely not anyone of that name! Shes probably a victim of school bullying!” 

Whitney looked at Janine with utter disgust and she walked away with Val and Eric looking bewildered at Janine.

John and Hannah headed to the Sugdens. John was determined to get to the bottom of who was sending stuff on the internet about Hannah. He knew Hannah hadnt been the only one who had malicious comments been posted about her but today it was going to end.

 Diane came to the door, surprised to see John.

“Diane, can I speak to Victoria please?” John asked. Diane looked at him,

“What for? Whats she done?” She asked, oblivious to what was going on. Victoria came downstairs, she had somehow expected this.

“Have you seen the comments on this chat room thing?!” John said sharply to Victoria who looked at the screenshot that he had taken.Victoria was shaken by what had been said.

“This is disgusting Victoria, you should know better than that!” John shouted, Victoria became tearful and Diane folded her arms,

“Im so disappointed in you Victoria I really am.” She said sternly and Victoria was sent to her room.

“Im so sorry John I had no idea.” Diane said solemnly, John nodded.

“At least it could be over now. I hate it when my kids are distressed.” John said before taking Hannah home.

When they got home, Moira had headed to bed early due to illness, Adam was out with Aaron and Holly was in hers and Hannahs room.

“Thats for you help Dad. But what if im hated for being the school grass? Does it make me look weak?” Hannah asked. John held her close.

“No it doesnt darling. It makes them look like a spiteful pair of idiots.” He said and Hannah smiled. 

“Im going to go to bed now Dad.” She said as she hugged him.

As Hannah went into her bedroom, she checked on her hamster Lily. She smiled to herself as she feed her, happy to her torment was over. She didn't know whether to forgive Victoria for her betrayal. 

As Hannah got into her pyjama’s, she saw something sticking out of Holly’s old dollhouse. It looked like a small clear packet containing white powder. Hannah’s eyes widened when she saw what it really was.

It was cocaine.

Next time: A Newcomer causes havoc, The Rovers briefly comes under new management and Aaron gets acquainted with an attractive newcomer.