#which leads to him becoming stronger but I enjoy when heroes get ripped down to their barest bones and built back up again

[luckycheesefoodie321]

I love that Sanji reports to Luffy he’ll be leaving for a bit before running after the samurai

It’s these subtle things that show he respects his Captain but Luffy is so laidback (a. Bc he doesn’t impose his position very often and b. He’s confident Sanji can handle any trouble that comes his way) that he just says go for it without looking to see him off. And Sanji runs off without another word.

Also love that Nami sent Zoro with Brook and Sanji, not for back up but to keep Sanji focused on fighting with Zoro and not perving on her body XD

Body swapping antics done so damn well man. I love that for the most part, the other Straw Hats aren’t skipping a beat at the mixed up bodies and just accept it as the current norm that will likely be resolved down the line.

[katsukikitten]

Part 10 of Irritated. Y'all thank Jo for this being updated lol.

⚠️ WARNING ⚠️ This is an 18+ Pro Hero AU, mentions of violence and death. Enjoy

The pungent smell of wet Earth and nose burning chemicals did not pair well with the harsh scent of rotting fruit. Sickeningly sweet as it rouses you, mind hazed as your eyelids refuse to open or even flutter. Weighted by lead and an endless sleep that tries to pull you under again. For once you submit.

More time passes, although you aren’t even sure you understand the concept any longer as that same smell stirs you again, a bang from an adjacent room pushes your eyes to flutter. Flashes of light against the start darkness before your eyes adjust to the low light of the room that seeps in from a few small rectangular windows. The panes are caked with dust while bricks are pressed into the seedy Earth, giving the room a natural coolness, there is only one set of stairs that lead up towards a door outlined in light. The sound of running water makes your throat constrict and your mouth dry, as if you swallowed cotton whole. Making you wonder just how long you had been pulled undertow. It takes your throbbing head a moment to catch up with your senses as a chill settles over your bare skin in goose flesh.

And then it all comes flooding back, the awful taste of his salty skin in your mouth, the fear gripping at your muscles as you finally realize that you are not in the safety of your apartment but somewhere forgein. Thrashing to get to your feet only to hit hard onto the icy concrete, wrists and ankles bound by white cuffs, a small whine escapes your raw throat. Your heart hammers in your chest before you feel a sharp prick in both of your wrists. A warm substance floods your system as your eyelids become heavy, mind trudging through abduction procedures before settling on blissful numb. A blurry figure comes from the only other door in the room that isn’t atop the staircase. You don’t need to fully focus on his face to know exactly what color his eyes are as they burn into your retinas before sleep hushes your frayed nerves. You dream of all consuming green that slowly fades to black.

Bakugou finds himself standing in the kitchen of his apartment, your spare key stares up at him from your paperwork. A sweating glass with melting ice and the reminisce of an amber liquid is his only company. He leers down at the address, wondering why the hell you were on such a seedy side of town, then he thinks of you shaking on the couch back at the hotel during the convention. His stomach churns, your final words and blow cause him to suck his teeth.

“Not my fucking problem.” He huffs to himself, refilling the glass before killing the light in the kitchen to settle on the couch. His grip is too tight on the crystal glass in his explosive palm, the glass threatens to shatter while an infomercial plays in the background. His mind is anywhere but the TV while indestructible pans are advertised across the large screen. Aggressively swirling the amber liquid as his thoughts become more and more loud. He swallows the whisky whole and with it the thought of you. Letting it all burn as it runs down his throat and heats his chest, a warm feeling flooding his veins as he sinks lower into the couch. Flipping channels as he forgets you.

Your key taped to your personal records, that Bakugou stole, do not sit on his fine counter much longer, soon it is swiped and shoved into a pocket. He slams the crystal glass on the counter as he reaches for his own apartment keys and his cellphone. Bakgou slams his apartment door, locking the deadbolt before he rushes down the stairs to catch the last train to you hellish part of the city.

The hour train ride sobers Bakugou and only sets him into further agitation. Glaring at anyone who thinks to look at him more than once, even going as far as baring his teeth. Before glaring at his own reflection, who sneers right back. His black tee is tight and a bit damp despite the cool air, the brim of his backwards cap pulls the hair away from his forehead as his faded sides breathe in the chill of the train. The hat, an excuse to hold in his hair, his hero gloves heating his hands as his fingers twitch, he hopes your apartment is hardwood throughout since he didn't have plastic bags to put his feet in while he looked for something. Anything. He was doing the best with what he had.

But the more he looks at himself the more he realizes he never really was doing his best. At least not when it came to you.

The address to your apartment complex is a few blocks away from the train station, his jaw clenched as he reaches the low lit building. Screaming comes from somewhere far off, his ears perk out of habit, but he was supposed to be off duty right now. Plus that wasn’t his current focus, not to mention should he help it would be suspicious as fuck as to why he was so far way from home tonight. He bounds up the stairs in the dank stairwell two at a time, huffing through his nose as he reaches the top floor. The carpet is worn threadbare and reeks of vomit and water damage. Silence envelopes the top floor compared to the yelling and crashing items on his way up. Slowly it dawns on him that you’re most likely renting out the entire fucking floor. He sucks his teeth, leaning in close to the door of the first apartment on the floor. Nothing comes from the other side of the thin cheap door, musty air flows from between the cracks as if the room had been closed for quite some time. It confirms what he’s been thinking. He finds your apartment door with ease, several bolts and locks lined up perfectly straight. He looks down at the one key and thinks about what happened in the short few years you started at the agency that you would need five, no six additional deadbolts on your door. He half wishes you hadn't made it so obvious as to which door was yours, thoughts creep into the forefront of his mind as he imagines someone else standing in his spot now. He thinks he will need a locksmith, but that would call attention to himself, he could attempt to pick them but he never really had time to practice the shady skill. Just as he is about to turn to brute force as the answer he notices that your door doesn't seem fully shut. He thinks of all the times that you bitched while on patrol about your damn door and how you had to literally slam it shut for it to actually lock. Gritting his teeth he gently pushes the door open with his gloved hand letting it swing open with an eerie creak.

Already things are out of place. Your suitcase stands alone, untouched and obviously unpacked from the clothes peeking out from beneath the zipper, by the front door. Your lanyard for your keys is on the floor instead of the table that is in the foyer and the converse you were wearing the day that you quit are missing. Faintly something gleems in the grainy light from the hallway from beneath the table in the foyer. Bakugou reaches for it tentatively, teeth gritting as he realizes what the glass rectangle is.

Your phone.

Specifically, your dead phone.

His hand hover over the unresponsive screen before deciding to leave it, this would be evidence they would need later but for now he knew he had to do something. Kamisama takes pity on the poor bastard and throws him a bone in the shape of a scrunchie. Your black scrunchie that seems to have been ripped from your arm. As he reaches for it he notices the faint residue smeared on the hardwood. His mind dredges up weeks ago of the guy trying to hide his quirk. Of the carpet by the hotel door in the hall just a touch darker.

He should have fucking killed him, he should not have listened to you. He snatches the scrunchie, heading towards your kitchen to look for a bag, tupperware, anything to trap the smell of you and possibly your assailant. He finds a plastic sandwich bag, shoving the broken hair tie into the baggie before sealing it shut. He heads for your door thinking better of slamming it shut in case he needs to return without the calvary. Pulling his phone from his pocket he dials an old number from memory, the other line picks up.

"Oi, it's time I cashed in on that favor you owe me."

After the short conversation and the long hour and a half in the cold a four door sudan pulls up to the train station by your house. Bakugou eagerly yanks open passenger side door, slamming it shut as he cranks of the heat in the car, giving the driver no room for questions let alone a greeting.

"Oi, I need you to find the owner of this." He flashes the scrunchie as the driver gives him a look, "Inu, you're hound's son aren't you? It's not impossible."

"It might as well be dude. What is this?" Inu snatches the bag from hot fingers, "Do you even know when the last time the owner wore this. And what exactly are we doing? Is this even fucking official?"

Bakugou narrows his eyes, mouth set in a harsh snarl as he leans in close to the driver's seat while Inu leans back.

"I dunno was your shit I helped you with official? Was it ethical for us to take out a mob boss for your now ex wife?"

Inu looks away into the rear view mirror, eyes boring holes into the glass and the blankets in the back seat. Bakugou doesn't notice, he takes it as admission before leaning away into the passenger seat.

"Now get to sniffing." Inu grits his teeth at the hot head's comments before sighing out. Opening the bag just a little to take a whiff. The smell was faint, indicating a large gap from the time it was last worn to now. Not to mention there was an odd smell, so unbelievably faint in the fabric that had Inu not already known what you smelt like he would have missed it. Just barely he could make out past the notes of your shampoo a salty harsh smell, almost like a preservative. Had it been any stronger it would have burned his nostrils. Sweat and...was that formaldehyde?

His stomach churns, slowly closing the baggie before cracking his window, catching the wind just right. He follows his nose, head halfway out the window as the car carries the men late into the night, all the way to the fringes of a suburb that was partly in the country. Inu parks the car on the wide street of the little neighborhood built to mimic an American suburb in the nineties. Homes of various sizes spread out and yet not too far from one another.

"This is it." Inu announces, throwing the car in park as it sits nestled between a beat to hell pick up truck and a dented sudan.

"You're sure?" Bakugou asks as he takes in the old home, it's upkeep is minimal at best, landscaping border line over grown as he can barely make out the small rectangular windows at the base of the house beneath the old dim street lamp.

"This is where both smells get stronger."

"Both?" A tic wounds tighter in Bakugou's jaw while a tremor runs through his arms. Inu nods as Bakugou reaches for the knob.

"Woah, woah!" Inu's large hand clamps down onto a broad shoulder, "Hold up man, if she really is involved then this is nothing like the sting we did bro. We need to call someone."

"Like fucking who?"

"I dunno Director Yami?"

"Yea so he can dismiss this again? Fuck that and fuck you. I'm going." He shoves Inu away reaching for the door again before the blankets in the back seat come to life. A mop of emerald curls with concern plastered across the giant's face appears to Bakugou's horror.

"Kaachan...you can't. We need to do this right, for her." And with that Bakugou snaps, lunging for his old friend, enemy. Climbing past the center console with his hands outstretched before they wrap around a thick column squeezing with all of his might. Deku doesn't do much to stop him, somehow knowing deep down that it isn't really him that the red eyed man wants to kill. He wraps broad hands around thick forearms giving them a gentle squeeze, he could snap them with One for All if he wanted. Instead Inu barks out a breathy "What the fuck?" as he wraps his arms around Bakugou's torso pulling him back into the passenger's seat. In the tussle either Bakugou or Inu hit the horn, causing Inu to panic as a light comes to life in the once darkened house. He forcefully shoves Bakugou into the front seat as he peels into the street, thankfully without burning rubber.

"Are you trying to blow our fucking cover?!" Inu shouts, "Like fuck! And what's killing Izuku-kun going to do?"

Bakugou turns to glare at the behemoth of a man in the back seat, he rubs his throat as red eyes watch bruises form.

"I'm not sorry Deku, fuck you." But Izuku can read between the lines, Bakugou saying he is sorry but still fuck you for trying to stop me while our friend is most likely on borrowed time.

"'S kay. We can help her."

A honk, rouses you before footsteps can be heard overhead rushing through the house before blinding light floods down into the basement.

"Finally you're awake." He flicks on all the lights, scrambling to put your feet under you so you can at least sit. Eyes flickering over the room as you try to give your throbbing, unresponsive mind to collect something, anything you can store away for later to aid your escape. Meanwhile the green eyed fucker monologues.

"It took some time for me to adjust your dose, I need you to be just under enough that you won't fight back, your heart rate spikes easily you know…." His words are lost to you as you glance over your shoulder only to wish you never did as your stomach churns in horror. Lined up against the wall behind you are women, women you had posed with.

But what haunts you is how it starts with your missing friend. Her eyes hollowed out, pitch black holes stare back at you as her skin looks paper thin, like a botched mummification or that whoever was trying to preserve her got lucky. She is still in her last scene clothes that are bloodied and torn. Your eyes struggling to follow the line as they progressively become more and more preserved, until your eyes finally land on your last instagram picture, you and that young girl. With the peace signs beneath your eyes.

She looks to still be alive, until you realize she is unblinking with glass eyes and a permanent smile with the help of a stich or two.

He notices your rigidness and frowns.

"Are you not happy? It's hard to save the eyes." He forces your face to meet him with his fingers on your skin, "I made them for you. They're your friends right? I wouldn't want my doll to be lonely."

Your breath comes in ragged huffs as rage consumes you, you were going to kill him. With whatever little power you had left, you were going to end him and savor it.

All these lives, twenty, that you could see, lost, because of you and you negligence. Your eyes glow before a prick comes at your wrist, the power dying in your fingers.

"No." You rasp out as your vision begins to fade.

"Ah come on, I just want you to be a wake for just a bit doll. Just a while longer before I make you mine."

Your world plunges into the depths of darkness.

Your dream of the girls behind you, of their scream as their preserved bodies animate, their glass eyes fixated on you as they crawl across the concrete. Their mouths smelling of formatihide and rot as they lean close to you, voices beneath water or worn by gravel.

"You did this. You killed us."

[itsclydebitches]

I was once more thinking of vol 8 and other works to compare it to. I hit Harry Potter, specifically Order of the Phoenix. Literally all that happened there showed a much better "proactive Hero" and "Big Bad vs Big Good" battle that it feels unfair to compare. What say you Clyde?

It's been a very long time since I read Order of the Phoenix, but putting aside that and the series' problems with representation (something that always feels like it needs to be acknowledged when discussing HP nowadays), Rowling did a good job of setting up both motivation and justification for Harry's actions. Which isn't to say that he was never wrong — quite the opposite, especially in OotP — but that Harry's involvement in this war is justified in a way that Ruby's involvement is not. He's not just generally active (no tea sipping equivalent scenes), but we understand why he's the one taking that action.

Harry is an unwilling participant forced to fight due to a prophecy, so when he stumbles along the way, we as the reader are understanding because jeez, what else what he supposed to do? Literally no one else can do this and he's trying his best. Ruby, in contrast, is not necessary to this fight. We might have gotten that with her silver eyes, but we didn't, so when Ruby willingly steps up — or, in Volume 8, forcibly takes control — and then gets upset because things didn't go well, the viewer (or at least some viewers: us) are far less forgiving because she demanded this responsibility and then found she didn't like having it. When Harry rushes off to the Department of Mysteries, endangering many of his friends in the process (even if they volunteered) we understand that this action is done out of love. We've spent five books establishing Harry's desire for a family, it's literally his greatest wish according to the Mirror of Erised, so going after Sirius, while reckless, is such an in-character, relatable, human decision. It's integral to who Harry is as a person. Compare that to the lack of work done surrounding Summer and the unanswered question of why Ruby is fighting Salem. Because it's the right thing to do? Great, fantastic, but uh... that doesn't really explain or justify why she's leading the charge when all these other huntsmen — with the same goals, more experience, better plans, etc. —are trying to do The Right Thing too. When thinking about HP vs. RWBY, my mind always goes back to that moment at the end of the first book when Harry tries to tell McGonagall about the stone and she brushes him off. "Ah," I thought later. "That's why three 11yos are going off to save the magical artifact when there are adult, full-fledged wizards around to do it instead. The kids tried to turn hand this off to the adults and the adults failed them." Now, combine this with Harry's growing tendency to go it alone, the implication that Dumbledore may have been allowing him to face certain threats to get stronger, each book's individual situation like a hidden chamber that only Harry can enter, his Godfather being on the run, a magically binding contract that keeps him in a competition because the bad guys are specifically after him... Harry is at the heart of the story. He's integral to it, his part in the fight inevitable, so all that's left is to see how he bears that burden.

Ruby is not integral to this fight, her presence and even her silver eyes are not necessary, her facing down Salem is only inevitable from a meta perspective regarding expectations for a protagonist (and then, in Volume 8, Ruby didn't face her.) There's no clear personal motivation to drive her. There's not even a Guardian's of the Galaxy-esque motivation in the form of, "We'll step up because no one else will." Others do keep stepping up and Ruby keeps forcing them to follow her instead, insisting that her way is better. Only problem is, it's arguably not and that's when she has a plan at all. It's like if instead of going after the stone because his professors won't, or going after Sirius because he loves him, or going after Voldemort because a prophecy and a life of having a saving-people-thing has pushed him to that, Harry made his way to the front of this war Just Because, rejecting everyone else who fought in the first war, has more experience, and actual plans along the way. Why does he do this? Because his name is in the title of the book, I guess.

RWBY throws in lost of classic ideas and setups, but doesn't seem to understand their point. Even something as simple as that Big Bad vs. Big Good conflict in Volume 8. Putting aside how muddied this has gotten between the Gods' involvement and Salem's dip in the grimm pool, Volume 8 took the threat of our Big Bad arriving with an army and... ignored it. Instead, they ran with Ironwood as the primary antagonist of the volume, the guy trying to stop Salem, a previously established ally, the guy who just gave up his arm to capture another clear-cut villain, and who throughout Volume 7 demonstrated none of the manipulation we would attribute to a Dumbledore-like figure. Rather than running with their Big Bad's arrival, RWBY asked how they could force one of the good guys to become a bad guy instead, hence the sudden shooting of Oscar and murder of the councilman. This is a far from perfect comparison (and I take my virtual life in my hands bringing up another controversial character lol), but it's a little like if after we learned about which side Snape was truly on, he suddenly tried to kill Hermione, succeeded in killing a minor character like Professor Flitwick, and then made plans to destroy all of Hogwarts. Meanwhile, everyone is ignoring Voldemort standing on the front lawn because the narrative randomly made Snape the biggest problem instead. So a lot of the fanbase is like, "Yeah he's absolutely a dick and his horrific past/contentious choices are the point of his character... but he's also supposed to be one of the good guys at the end of the day? And the Big Bad is right there? We can argue about how 'good' Snape is until we're blue in the face, but he's no Voldemort. Why did you feel the need to chuck the morally gray character off the deep end for our heroes to oppose when our primary antagonist is literally right here, trying to kill them?" From this, to introducing a dead mother that in no way motivates our cast, to having Oscar face down Salem with an improvised weapon instead of Ruby with her eyes, to giving Penny an arc about accepting her android body only to rip it away, etc. etc. RWBY continuously throws out ideas without understanding what they're meant to accomplish. There's a lot to criticize about Harry Potter nowadays, but a lack of logical development isn't one of them.

And just to chuck in another text — because I too think about what has done Volume 8 themes better lol — consider: Loki. Stop reading now if you don't want spoilers, but a couple episodes in Loki and Sylvie end up on a dying planet that is only evacuating the rich. That's said overtly in both the dialogue and visually in the mise-en-scene, with poor people screaming that only the rich are getting tickets for the rocket and elaborately dressed elites enjoying the comforts of that ride. Then, just as they're about to escape, leaving the rest of their world behind, a piece of the moon hits the ship, either killing them instantly or stranding them with the people they abandoned. And I thought to myself, "See, this makes sense in a way RWBY never did." Evacuation was never about wealth in RWBY, despite what the fandom continually claims. Ironwood was trying to evacuate everyone and only stopped because they all assumed Salem would be killing them momentarily. This situation included Relics and a Maiden that would easily turn the tide of the war, meaning their safety influenced the whole world, not just these people. Mantle was not necessarily about to be destroyed — indeed, we find out later that Salem had no interest in it — and it was always a bad faith (and OOC) assumption that Ironwood was leaving his kingdom for good. The story doesn't even acknowledge the huge number of Mantle citizens already on Atlas when the attack begins. I was just sitting there thinking, "This two episode mini conflict in an insane show with alligators and time shenanigans somehow holds up better than RWBY's 27 episodes that are trying to be deep. How does that happen?"

[sukiglycerin]

it’s too cold outside for angels to fly || katsuki bakugou.

* pairing: pro-hero!katsuki bakugou x angel quirk!reader (gender neutral!)

* genre: fluff, angst, actually sfw (wow, luna's can do that?!)

* words: 8.1k (it’s a big baby!)

* warnings: mentions of trauma, reader is insecure but it's not their entire personality, therapy (not a lot of scenes with it), slight intoxication, mentions of throwing up (not much), like one suggestive joke, (light) cussing because bakugou

* original request: All I’m saying is reader with a angel quirk and the reader even has wings AND ANGST (but happy at the end 🥺) WITH BAKUGOU sounds so good 😔 but of course if you don’t want to do that it’s fine no pressure 💕

* a/n: hi 'nonnie! i hope you like you like this! honestly, it turned out longer than i expected (twice the length lol) but i'm proud of this baby. i'd like to note that enko, the nickname bakugou calls reader means 'halo' in japanese and can double down as a name, and an important reminder not to take any advice from the therapy in this fic. i am not a professional therapist, and please seek advice for situations specific to yours. the name of the fic is inspired by a lyric from ed sheeran's 'a-team,' but i promise it's not that dark. thanks so much to @toishi​ and the amazing feedback from @dylanxmin​ for beta-reading this! hope you enjoy!

* synopsis: you were your parents' perfect angel. you listened, and you followed. you didn't become a pro-hero, you stayed inside per your parents' request. it was okay if you couldn't fly; or, at least it was, before katsuki bakugou came along...

your grandmother loved pastries. that’s why you were here, trekking through the cold city in the tokyo winter. you shivered everytime your feathers came in contact with the frigid air, as if they, too, cowered under the looming shadows of tall buildings and bright lights.

so many people roamed the sidewalks, yet any bodily warmth was gone. you regretted not buying a cover for your wings - surely, it'd be an investment despite the price. wing covers were rarely manufactured for your size in japan, mainly aimed for small children just developing a quirk. the extra cloth needed for adult wing covers as well as shipping costs jacked up the price, making you hesitant to buy them. your wings were folded against the outside of your coat (putting them inside gave you cramps), nuzzling against your back subconsciously for heat. your wings were a pale cream colour, slightly more vibrantly mustard-coloured at the tips, and were the most visible part of your quirk.

according to the doctor, your quirk was "angel," but it felt nothing more than a pet name. there was a time in your life that you adorned a halo, but it no longer hovered above you when you looked up now. you weren't granted much power with your quirk; you were barely able to fly with your wings, but maybe you had a stronger moral compass than others? the wings, at this point in your life, were just accessories, as useless as the appendix. they could only cause you pain. you walked mindlessly toward the bakery, snow flurries dotting your hair. the bakery was a rundown, easy to miss place; you would've missed it if you hadn't gone there so many times. the faded yellow paint on the exterior was peeling, the poster on the window ripped and advertising for summer deals from years back. it had only a word-of-mouth reputation to rely on.

there was a worn sticker on the door, right at eye level, which said the name of the bakery in loopy letters: 'the flour road.'

you swung the door open with a jingle, greeted by the scent of baking bread and warmth. the bakery was your grandmother's favorite, specializing in rice cakes and dorayaki. she loved the pastries, for some reason - the baklava especially. she sent you on an errand to buy her some, giving you extra money to buy your personal favorite of dorayaki. to be exact, she pushed the money into your hands and forced you to buy a dorayaki for yourself. it was still warm when the cashier handed you your boxes, which you gingerly put in the bag.

you took a deep breath, bracing yourself for the cold, before you opened the door and found yourself back in the cold winter.

a hand roughly pulled you into an alley, and you found yourself face to face with a masked figure.

"give me your money." the figure pointed to your purse, tugging it.

"i don't- i don't-" you reach to take off your purse, not questioning it. there was simply nothing you could do; besides, the voice was young enough. what if they were simply going through a rough time in life? that was no cause to-

"OI, DUMBASS, WHADDAYA THINK YOU'RE DOING?!" a spiky haired man appeared suddenly, wearing what appeared to be melons on his arms. you suddenly recognized his getup of black, orange, and green; he was a pro-hero. what was his name? zero gravity? zero gr...ass?

"LADY, MOVE ASIDE." he looked you over. "FLY, OR SOMETHING."

"i can't-" but he was already after the thief. it took him less than 30 seconds to capture the thief; he was fast by himself, but was faster when propelled by his explosions.

"well, why are you here still?" he turned to you, the figure from before slung over his shoulder.

"i can't fly," you blurted.

he blinked. "then walk. besides, you literally have-" the figure moaned over his shoulder. "agh, nevermind, gotta take this douche to the police. go home."

the next you see of the explosive melon hero is at a supermarket. his arms are melonless this time, though, and you're not actually sure if he's the melon hero. you only recognize him by his hair and red eyes, but truthfully, it was probably not him. he was muttering something about "the spice not being spicy enough," and "stupid hair-for-brains nagging about the heat."

you felt a finger poke your wings. "hey miss, you have ugly wings." a stubby boy, no more than 5 or 6, looked up at you. smirking, he pushed his own smaller wings out, hands on his hips. "mine are teal-turquoise! yours are boring white."

"uh, okay-"

"mind your damn business, brat. where are your parents?" you could now confirm that the spiky haired man was indeed the melonhero by his voice and vulgarity. melonhero had turned to the kid, standing by your side.

the kid hmphed and walked away, to where his mother scolded him for straying from her.

"you again?" melonhero turned to you. "you really need to learn how to stand up for yourself."

"eh? i was handling it fine!"

"yeah, sure. what’s up with your wings, anyway?" he grunted. "can’t fly?"

"n-no. they're, uh, too weak." it was something hard to admit out loud for you. all winged people could fly, but you couldn't even hover, your wings just flapping up wind.

"too weak?! eh? is that even possible??" he poked one of your feathers. "they seem sturdy enough to me."

you turn your wings away from him, frowning. "it's not that easy. i-i never really had time to learn..."

"isn't that what all kids do in their free time, though? experiment with their quirk?"

"my parents thought it was useless..." you shuffled your feet awkwardly, eyes downcast.

"WORTHLESS?!" you flinched at his sudden volume. "it's your quirk, though, 'wings'?"

you rubbed the back of your neck. "well, not really... it's...." angel. the word echoed in your mind, under the spotlight on a stage. it stared at you in an empty auditorium. 'angel.' the word had negative connotations for you. to others, it was a sweet, innocent nickname, but to you, it meant more.

it represented the weight of your parents' expectations, the burden of your classes' assumptions. it became a ball and chain, reminding you of who you were, who you were supposed to be, and who you could never become. you were your parents' angel, your parents' little light. nothing else.

"'angel,' eh?"

"huh?" did melonhero suddenly manifest a mind-reading quirk? you look at him, but his gaze is above your head.

"halo."

"halo," you repeated, looking dumbly at the flickering ring above you.

"well then, enko, it's nice to meet you," he smirked.

"i'm not enko- i'm y/n-"

"enko’s better. i'm ground zero, the number one pro-"

"melonhero," you blurted.

"HUH?! what's that, moron?!"

"nothing, sorry, continue-" you apologized. what had gotten into you?

ground zero cleared his throat. "-number one pro-hero! ...it's katsuki bakugou to you."

"bakugou, i'm y/n l/n, nice to meet you! oh, and um- where are my manners? -thank you for the other day."

"don't go giving your purse to random men on the street, dumbass."

"it wasn't like that!" you protested. "i mean, what if he was going through a rough time? or, his parents kicked him out-"

"doesn't justify anything. you're so naive," he grunted. "didn't your parents teach you self-defense or anything?"

"w-well, no, not really..." you mumbled. you'd always just been their angel, delicate and thoughtful. you never wanted to disappoint them; always staying inside to clean or cater to their needs. their perfect angel. in their opinion, villains could never touch you if you never went out.

you recalled a time in your youth when deciding on a high school.

"i wanna go to ua!" you'd said. you knew a teacher willing to recommend you, so you didn't need to worry about much.

"honey, no, you can't be a hero..." your father started. "you're an angel, you're our angel, okay?" 

your mom nodded. "it'll be dangerous, angel, and we can't have you getting hurt day after day," she added.

you simply agreed, not wanting to upset your parents. they were always right. being a hero wasn't worth it, anyway, you told yourself. it was an unstable job. you'd entered a private high school near the coast of japan, instead of ua.

"eh?! well, how are you supposed to fend for yourself alone?!" bakugou exclaimed.

"i'm... supposed to stay at home..." you confessed quietly.

"then why are you here?!"

"...i moved away from my family."

"and you didn't learn to protect yourself? get yourself some pepper spray, idiot!" bakugou grabbed your wrist, abruptly leading you to an aisle with pepper spray in it. he briefly paused, then picked one.

"it's on me. i can't have more morons like you to save when you could save yourself." 

"thank you," you said. in all of his vulgarity, bakugou was semi-decent. you wondered why he was so on edge constantly; perhaps it was a trait from being a high-demand hero.

"HEY!" bakugou yelled, making you jump in place. "whatcha smilin' at?!"

you wiped the small grin that subconsciously crept on your face. "n-nothing."

"tch, so quiet, enko." he looked above you. "halo’s gone? fuckin' weird-ass quirk."

"could you... um... nevermind." you originally wanted to ask him to tone down the swearing, but thought better of it. the vulgarity reminded you of your uncle, and you a gagged at the thought of the disgusting man who'd occasionally crash at your family's home completely wasted.

"what? just spit it out," bakugou said. "i don't get offended, unlike deku or something."

"can you... cut down on the swearing?" you ask, then add more quickly when you see his face. "i mean, it's okay if you wanna keep doing it. i can't stop you. y'know, freedom of speech and everything."

"okay," he said with surprising composure. he didn't question the request, instead looking at you intently.

your gaze was set down, trying not to think of your uncle, and the horrors you'd gone through as a child because of him.

"i- um- sorry," bakugou forced out of himself. "i didn't mean t-"

"don't worry," you smiled cheerily. a fake smile, but you tried to convince yourself it was real.

"d'you-" he coughed, "d'you wanna talk about it?" he seemed to be going through something in his mind. "there's a park nearby - god, what did hitomi say? - we can, uh, talk it out? you can vent."

"oh no, it's fine, you're busy, a pro-hero." you said nervously.

"ah- yeah," bakugou seemed to be flustered too. "my therapist though- uh, she's really damn good- i mean, really good-" he pulls out a wallet from his pocket and sifts through cards. "here." he handed you a business card, advertising 'HITOMI YABUKI' in bold.

you blinked at him and accepted the card reluctantly. pro-heroes were really kind at heart, huh? "is she a pro-hero therapist?" you asked.

"her? no, she does other stuff. normal stuff, trauma, quirk stuff, erm- whatever you need. she's an all-rounder."

"oh." you put the card in your pocket. "okay, thank you."

he grunted, accepting the thanks. "need to buy anything else?"

you glanced at your cart. "no, that's all. thanks for everything, bakugou-"

"i'll pay," he blurted. "for it all." he looks surprised at himself, perhaps even angry. "oh, no thank you-"

"i'll do it. i mean it. you didn't even buy much," he muttered.

"o-okay," you said. he snatched your cart from your hand, walking to a self-checkout.

"weren't you gonna buy anything?" you asked.

"eh?!" he grunted while scanning items.

that was the end of the conversation. once he finished, he swiped his card and handed you a bag.

"make sure you use the damn pepper spray."

it was only once you got home that you realized he slipped his number into one of the bags.

you see bakugou again at hitomi yabuki's therapy lobby. he sat casually, earbuds on as he stared at his phone. you debated sitting next to him and decided against it, not wanting to bother him. you didn’t contact his number yet; your hands sweated at the thought. as much as you were tempted, you didn’t want to make a fool of yourself in front of a pro-hero.

you found yourself staring at the man, who was unusually calm at the moment. you stared at his eyelashes, his eyes, down to his nose and lips, and his firm set jaw. your eyes fell to the phone he’s clutching, to the curve of his fingers and uniform nails.

"l/n y/n?" a tall woman called your name. bakugou looked up at you, and for a split second you could see what looked like a genuine smile before it was twisted into a smirk.

"yes!" you stood up and followed her, glancing back at bakugou before he disappeared from your sight. after a short elevator ride, you walked out onto the third floor.

she led you down a short, carpeted hallway to the last door. it was an opaque glass door that said "hitomi yabuki" on a plaque.

"so, what brings you here?" she finally said once the two of you were seated. "um- bakugou?" you said.

she smiled and jotted something down. "is that so?"

"yeah. we met a couple times by accident, and uh, he gave me your business card."

the rest of the session was just introductions - prices, meeting times, and therapy that can be provided. still, you weren’t really sure if you needed the therapy - maybe it’d be suited more for someone else struggling more than you. you didn’t need to use your quirk much; flying wasn’t much your style anyway. what would your parents think if they found out you were taking therapy? they’d surely be hurt, assuming that they didn’t provide a good childhood to you. you could practically hear your mom asking you why you’d waste money on therapy. you took a deep breath as you re-entered the lobby. bakugou was seating in the same place you last saw him, still on his phone. you bid goodbye to the receptionist, thinking out your decisions. your insurance could cover much of the costs for the therapy, but you still wondered if you should spend the money.  these thoughts trailed you as you waited on the sidewalk for a cab, watching your breath billow in front of you.

"hey, enko."

your elbow shot out by instinct, hitting the invader of your thoughts.

"woah, idiot, it’s just me." luckily, bakugou had caught your stray elbow, chuckling to himself. "so the angel does know self-defense, eh?"

you stiffened at the pet name, though you knew bakugou meant well. you could remember each distinctive voice in your childhood. your parents beckoning: angel. your nickname: angel. how everyone saw you: angel. you could never escape it, not with your halo or wings. it was so distinctive, your defining quality. whether he noticed the shift in your posture, he didn’t say. "how was it? hitomi’s great, right?"

you hummed in response, rubbing your wings together for heat.

"are wings supposed to get cold? aren’t they just... feathers?"

your wings ruffled at the comment. you sniffed. "they’re sensitive."

"weird," bakugou muttered under his breath. for a split second, you considered smacking him with your wing, but you stopped yourself before you could execute the instinct.

your cab pulled up by the sidewalk. "that’s my ride." you smiled and waved to him as you entered the car. somewhere during the 15 minute car ride, you mustered up the courage to finally text bakugou.

who knew he was so dirty-minded, anyway? you leaned back in your car seat, exhaling. thankfully, you didn’t text the wrong number or prematurely end the conversation. so, now you were friends with a pro-hero, or so you assumed (friends texted each other, right?). the you from 10 years ago would be jumping for joy at the prospect of befriending a pro-hero, and here you were. you finally booked a therapy session for saturday at 3pm. you checked into the lobby ten minutes early, just as your parents had taught you, and took a seat in the lobby.

when it was finally your turn, you found yourself back in hitomi's office, the familar scent of vanilla and fresh linen wafting in the air.

"i hope you don't mind the scent," she said.

you shook your head. "it's fine." the fragrance was almost reassuring in a way, but you couldn’t pin point it. this time, you allowed yourself to drink in your surroundings. hitomi’s office was spacious, a large window overlooking tokyo’s snow-covered cityscape adding onto the effect. the walls followed a vertical gradient pattern of mint green and light blue decorated with paintings, hanging plants, and wooden shelves yet not in a cluttered way. in the center, against a wall, was a white couch. it had an oddly calming aura to it, as if you'd stepped into a dream outside reality.

"would you like an apple? or some water?" hitomi offered.

you weren’t really in the mood for either, but accepted the water. she gestured for you to sit on the couch.

the meeting consisted of her asking and you answering, the topic changing from family life, to your quirk, to your feelings.

"so, can you explain your quirk to me?" hitomi asked.

"well..." you gathered your thoughts. "obviously, i have wings like an angel. they don’t really do anything, though, just get sensitive to the weather. i used to have a halo when i was young, but it’s faded by now. dunno why. let’s see...." you paused. "i guess i have an inclination to help others? it’s hard for me to say no to things, honestly."

"is it because of your quirk?"

"probably," you admitted. "i’ve always been like this, i think."

"can you fly with your wings?"

"no." you sipped your water. "i guess i never learned. i’d try, but i don’t think they can support my body weight."

"how do you feel about your quirk?"

you shrugged, but then regretted it. you didn’t want to seem insensitive to all the quirkless people who could only wish for a quirk. "it’s- it’s cool, i guess. it makes me unique..." you thought back to your parents’ words, how they’d praised you for such an amazing quirk. when you used to feel bad about your quirk, they’d always remind you that there were children who’d wish to even have a quirk at all, and that you were special. your mother’s quirk allowed her to shine small rays of light through her fingertips, while your dad’s quirk gave him a wing attached to his left arm. it was pretty much useless for anything other than generating wind, considering he didn’t have a right wing to balance him out. their quirks together worked out just right to create you, their perfect angel. hitomi jotted something on her notepad.

the more you thought of it, the more you felt broken. you'd been doing therapy with hitomi for months now, and it had gotten harder and harder to emotionally process. your parents, your family, your quirk; you now saw the things for what they were.

your parents had used you. you were their doll, their perfect obedient angel, and it disgusted you. your hands felt tainted, your wings heavy weights on your back. you were revolted by yourself; looking in the mirror, you couldn't help but gag, seeing not the you of now, but the you of the past looking back at you. you couldn't sleep; tossing and turning and ruffling your wings in frustration. you couldn't stop thinking about your parents, how they restricted you from everything.

you wondered how it'd be different if your parents were better. you wondered if you'd gotten into ua and strengthened your quirk. you wondered how your reputation as a pushover would change. maybe you'd be a hero right now, helping others instead of being so irreparably broken.  you could hear the catcalls from your classmates like bullets beating your wings. angel, the goody-two-shoes who couldn't say no.

not once did you cry. maybe you felt too disgusted by yourself. maybe bakugou was becoming the best friend you'd ever had.

he was there for you. making spicy curry or those awful, equally spicy instant korean noodles - he was there for you, in the same way milk is there for you when eating a particularly spicy dish. he listened to you, and you did the same for him. you laughed and joked together. somehow, in such a dark time, your friendship bloomed. it was strange, really. his reputation as a hero made him out to be aggressive and careless - and while he could brash in word choice at times, you knew he had a good heart. at one point, you’d even opened up to him about your past.

"then deku just completely f- messed up the mission! i could’ve blown up the damn guy, but he had to play mr. goody-two-shoes and just tie him up. and he got all the interview time. what’s even up with that?!"

he talked about his friends a lot. he'd deny his relationship with them being something other than strictly professional, but the way his crimson eyes would deepen gave it all away. he mainly spoke of deku and red riot (though their names would be referenced in cruder ways).

"what if- what if i was a hero?" you asked suddenly.

bakugou lifted an eyebrow. "you'd be a damn good hero if you could manage your quirk. like hawks."

"you think the public would like me?"

"duh. you're pretty, kind, AND fight villains? pretty badass. hell, if i approve of you, anyone would."

you smiled.

"why, though?" bakugou asked.

"curious. i, um, used to want to be a hero. growing up."

"your quirk has potential." bakugou leaned back on the couch. "why didn't ya become one?"

"parents." you flinched as the word passed your lips. thinking about your parents was painful, as if you had to rip off a month old bandaid before you could even get their faces into your mind. "they just... worried," you said. you didn't say anything else.

"betcha couldn't come up with a hero name as damn awesome as ground zero." "i could barely remember it," you teased.

"though, i must say, i do like enko as a hero name. it's like i'm joining an idol group."

"akb48 has nothing on you though,"  bakugou said.

you flushed. "i-i don't think you've looked at them properly, then."

"nah, i have, ochaco's obsessed with idol groups. don't doubt me, enko~" his voice was dangerously close, but he hadn't moved an inch from his original spot. "you're prettier than all the idols combined. tch, how low do you think my standards are?!"

"they're idol groups, bakugou, they practically rely on visuals!"

"eh? who cares? you've beaten them in looks and personality."

the thing about bakugou was that he was always completely honest with his thoughts. his integrity always amazed you, but then again, he was a pro-hero. you were quick to change the subject. "um- then-- what time is it? it must be getting late. i should get home-"

bakugou frowned. "it's late, idiot. eat before you go. i have some leftover tonkatsu and rice, and i can whip up the miso-"

"n-no, it's fine bakugou, you don't need to-"

"idiot, i can't have you starve to damn death on the ride home. eat."

even if you wanted to protest, you couldn't. bakugou's cooking was always to good to pass up, alarmingly spicy or not.

"the rice is still warm in the rice cooker," bakugou finally said, turning towards the kitchen. he knew you'd follow him, and you did.

bakugou busied himself making some instant miso soup and reheating the tonkatsu. you prepared yourself for the spicy of bakugou's tonkatsu; you'd had it once before, and it was quite painful. finally done, bakugou sat to the side of you eating tonkatsu as well, seasoning his with extra chili flakes. he was positively crazy; how did he handle such spice?

you cut yourself a strip and brought it to your lips. the tonkatsu was surprisingly tame for bakugou's cooking; it could've passed for normal restaurant tonkatsu.

"thish ish good," you said in between bites.

"i know," he gritted out, but he looked proud. "would be better with chili."

you shook your head, smiling. "never in a million years."

it was often you thought of this moment. it was so happy, so complete. it was just you and bakugou, simply being. right now, a genuine smile was something you couldn't curl your lips into, no matter how hard you tried. when you did, the taste of something salty crept into you mouth.

something salty...?

you touched your face. it was wet. your head spun, and then it dawned on you: you were crying. you were crying? your eyes focused, and pain throbbed in your head. lights shone too bright on you, heightening your headache, and a foul taste lingered in your mouth. you were suddenly aware of something solid in your hand: a drink.

something else you were aware of was how much you wanted to go home. you could barely remember what led you to a club as you fumbled in your purse for your phone, glancing at the time and unlocking the screen. all you needed to do was go home. you really wanted to go home, but where was home? home was gone. home...

a fresh wave of tears glossed your face, and you ignored the person next to you's advances. you didn't even know why you were crying. you struggled to read your contacts, dizzy, and called the first one you can make out with your hazed vision.

bakugou.

yes, all you wanted right now was bakugou. you wanted him and his warm arms, his endearing words. you wanted him so bad. you wanted him, and his warmth, and his happiness. you wanted his scent of comfort, the smile that made you feel fuzzy. you wanted his voice to shelter you precisely at that moment, you wanted to feel like it was him and you against the world.

"dumbass? hello? where are you? why is it so freaking loud? enko?"

you hadn't realized that a low quality projection of his voice was speaking on your phone.

"b-bakugou," you said, though it came out hoarsely. "bakugou."

"enko? where are you, and why are you calling at ass o'clock in the morning?"

"miss you," you almost said, but instead it came out as "dunno, you," a mix between "dunno" and "miss you."

"eh? where are you?"

you shrugged. "come here."

"send me your location, moron, and stay where you a-"

you hung up to send him your location.

you yawned and rubbed your forehead. everything was loud, everyone was together. and you were alone. it made you sad. you wanted to have somebody. a voice in the back of your head told you that you had bakugou. did you? right, he was coming. did you tell him to come?

you pressed the call button again.

"what is it?" bakugou asked roughly.

"lonelyyyy..." you moaned. "pick me up, baku...."

"idiot, i'm on my way. why the fuck are you so far from where you live?"

"hmm mmmhm," you strung together sounds. "'m sad."

"don't be." he sounded mad. he always sounded mad.

"why are you always mad at me?" you pouted.

"i'm not, dumbass! i'm pulling in."

"hmmm...!"

bakugou almost tore through the door with rage. "ENKO, GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE."

you hopped toward him, wobbling a bit. the floor seemed to turn under you. enko! that was you! right?

"bakuuugoooou~" you cooed, flopping into his arms. "let's sleep."

he smelled nice. his scent enveloped you, a mix of vanilla and caramel that you’d grown so accustomed to.

he stiffened. "dumbass, i can smell the alcohol on you, we’re going the fuck home."

"don’ wanna," you whined. "lonely. wanna be with youuuuu..." you nuzzled more into his chest, finding comfort in his body warmth. you didn’t want to let go, ever. "tch, fine."

the car ride to bakugou’s place was uncomfortable. cars spun by you, lights making you woozy. you almost bashed your head on the dashboard. your seat was uncomfortable, the seatbelt itched you. despite all that, you stopped to stare at bakugou in your daze, all serious and set on the road. he had nice biceps, and his side profile was a sight for sore eyes (see also: your eyes).

"what, enko?" he grunted, glancing at you.

you said the first thing that came to your mind. "you know you smell nice?"

"huh?" he glanced at you, turning in to his driveway.

well, there was no going back now. "you smell like caramel... and vanilla... it’s nice..." you sighed happily, imagining the fragrance.

bakugou didn’t reply, instead parking and unlocking the doors. "get out, dumbass, it’s past your bedtime."

"but i don’t haaaaaave a bedtime," you slurred, stumbling out of the car. bakugou mumbled a complaint before hoisting you over his shoulder. it was probably not the best move, considering the blood rushing to your head made you feel sick. after entering his house, bakugou set you down on a sofa, sitting you upright.

"stay here."

you leaned back on the sofa, feeling suddenly empty. the buzz in your head had not quite left, but the weight of the world came crashing down again. therapy, your parents, your quirk. it struck you that you were probably bothering bakugou and disturbing his sleep; he was a pro-hero after all, lives depended on his health. but here you were, ever so selfish and probably taking a toll on his health.

"drink." you hadn't realized bakugou had put a glass of water in your hands. you simply nodded and gulped it down, hoping to sober yourself up.

you stared at the man glossy eyed, glass in your hand half empty. "bakugou."

"eh?"

"sorry."

"for what?"

"y'know... waking you up... bothering you... i know you're busy, and-"

"shut up, it doesn't matter. i'd rather you here than in the hands of some douche at the club."

"but still, how would i make it up-"

"by sleeping well. off to bed you go."

he started pushing you towards the hallway. "where will you sleep?"

"sofa."

"but bakugou-"

"go to bed."

"i feel sick-"

"hah?"

a rising sensation of bile emerged in your throat. the only words you could get out of your mouth was "bathroom," before you rushed in. it was not a pretty sight - you preferred to skim over the details when recalling it. the details you did not skim over, however, were that of bakugou's care; for being awoken at ungodly hours in the morning, he was surprisingly gentle with your vomiting state, soothing your stomach with warm hands and rubbing your back. after, he gave you a glass of water and forced you to take ibuprofen, though you swore you felt fine.

bakugou's bed was surprisingly comfortable. then again, bakugou did claim to have gone to bed at 8:30 sharp daily during his high school years, so it made sense he still valued sleep.

you were then reminded how you disrupted his.

and how you were now forcing him to sleep on the sofa.

you padded out of his room, wearing one of bakugou's old shirts that he'd graciously lended you, to the living room. he was laying on his back, feet sticking out of the sofa, eyes closed.

"what?" he asked, eyes still shut.

you knew he wouldn't let you feel guilty about intruding his sleep, so you settled upon saying the next best thing. it was partially true, anyway.

"'m lonely without you." your voice came out smaller than intended.

"huh?" he sat up, groggily looking at you.

"it's- kinda cold, and y'know, with your quirk..."

he grunted and obliged, walking toward his bedroom. you stood behind him, staring at his back; that was surprisingly easy.

bakugou slept with his arms around you, so you were nestled comfortably into his chest. this position felt strangely domestic; something lovers might do nightly. but you and bakugou weren't lovers, you were friends. image of you and bakugou involved romantically faded into your mind; coffee shop dates, cooking together, waking up next to each other. there was a sudden loss of breath in your chest, as if your heart had become weightless and was lifted by a thousand of butterflies taking flight. bakugou... romantically? it hadn't crossed your mind. still, you could see it so vividly in your mind; you, becoming his dumbass, his and his only. you could imagine how he'd look at you, full of love in his eyes, and how he'd gently kiss your forehead in the morning. was it so bad to want that? the more your thoughts indulged you, the more his body warmth drowsed you, his calm breathing adding to the effect. he was practically nyquil in human form. you found yourself nodding off in his arms, not before mumbling a quiet "what if i liked bakugou?" and clutching his shirt closer to you.

you were far too engrossed in the realm of sleep to hear bakugou's faint but hopeful reply of "i'd hope so, dumbass."

at your next therapy meeting, you told hitomi about bakugou. it was unplanned, spilling out of your mouth as soon as she asked why you looked so anxious. you couldn't like bakugou. you blamed your slightly intoxicated past self for planting such a thought in your brain, but you knew it just admitted a lingering feeling from in your heart. you spared her the details of the throwing up and the guilt that gnawed at you regarding how bakugou cared for you.

"it's... childish, right? like an old schoolgirl crush," you flushed, finishing your confession.

hitomi shook her head. "it's good to feel this way, actually. it's quite healthy for a twenty-something like you to harbour such feelings; it allows you to explore your feelings and relationships healthily."

even so, crushing was so damn frustrating. it's one thing to like a person; it's a completely different experience after admitting to yourself, yes, they're my crush. when you were younger, you very rarely developed crushes (as influenced by your parents) and even less were able to act on them. but now, as an adult, you had the freedom to act (or not, considering how your nerves constantly started to act up around bakugou). you decided to push the feelings down; you were just friends, and bakugou had no time to pursue a romantic relationship.

if having a crush was like an addiction, rehab was torture for you. gone were the days of seeing bakugou as platonic; you couldn't stop your heart from swelling whenever he recounted his day to you. bakugou had now become attractive, from his tight, bulging muscles to his hard chest. it did not help that you had to see him in his hero costume flaunting those features every other day on the news.

you convinced yourself bakugou harboured nothing but platonic sentiment for you, but he never failed to send your heart aflutter with discreet compliments he hid under rough comments. you started leaving early whenever the two of your hung out under the guise of other plans (that in reality didn't exist), and tried to always cut conversations short when you bumped into each other in public. he was ground zero, pro-hero, and you were just a civilian who could barely maintain their quirk.

you were just starting your quirk therapy, but you couldn't expect major changes a week in. bakugou had said your wings looked brighter, but you assumed he just said that to make you feel better. you could hover off the ground for less than a second now, but your wing strength lacked too much to be able to do anything requiring more strength. your halo was still absent, and you couldn't figure out how to make it reappear. there hadn't been much research done on the essence of halos; hitomi said not to worry about it regardless.

flap flap flap.

"oi, dumbass, you're gonna create a tornado in here."

flap flap flap.

"i'm practicing flying."

"well, you're going nowhere. d'you want me to call hawks or something?" flap flap flap. 

you turned to bakugou, folding your wings neatly. he had the same expression as always, slightly disapproving and tired. your eyes meet his momentously; but they fall down immediately to his lips. lately, this kind of thing had been happening often. bakugou acted like he didn't notice you'd been different lately, but you could tell he wanted an explanation.

you acted on your impulse, your mouth opening and words tumbling from your mouth.

"bakugou- idon'twanttoruinourfriendshipbutijustwannasayitnow- ilikeyou."

"what?" why did you do that?

if this were a texting conversation, you'd leave him on read. if this was a tweet, you'd make your account private. if this was a video call, you'd end it.

alas, this was real life, so you resorted to the next closest thing: you ran. you ran faster than any shoujo girl and with more conviction than any shounen boy, and then you were lost. damn cities.

panting on the sidewalk, wings heaving up and down, you realized what you did. staring at the edge of the pavement, where the curb met the street, hands on your knees, it hit you.

you cussed and yelled at yourself mentally, and though a small part doubted bakugou even heard you, you didn’t allow yourself to have hope. it was game over. you let your feelings override rational thought, and you ruined what was arguably the best thing going on in your life.

you were interrupted by an itch in your feathers from being so cramped while folded. they ruffled against the cool air, distraught. you stretched them out, observing your surroundings and allowing yourself to cool down. the breeze was a satisfying sensation against your feathers, and you hovered just a moment when they flapped.

"mommy, wings!" a kid passes you on the sidewalk, pointing. his mother hushes him, but you smile at him.

the next few days were rough, particularly because you were avoiding bakugou. it was definitely not a good idea, but it was a temporary patch over the open part of your heart.

this was not one of your healthy coping mechanisms.

did he text you? did he call you? you didn’t know, because you turned off your notifications. you knew you were just making things more awkward, even more so if he hadn’t heard you at all. it gave you all the more excuse to ignore him longer.

now, with evenings to yourself, your mind wandered more. your thoughts drifted into a vast desert of tangled constellations in your mind, tightropes you’d tread that would lead you to a random destination. sometimes it led you to random memories - other times, it wasn’t as random, leading you to painful manifestations in your heart. these were the things you tried so hard to ignore, but rang so true.

you were reminded by the constellations in your mind that you were being terribly selfish to bakugou; not even considering his feelings. bakugou didn't deserve you. maybe stars twinkled in your mind, but the bluest ones burned you to the touch. you needed to get over bakugou.

that wasn’t to say it didn’t hurt, trying to get over bakugou. the stars in your mind dimmed, and perhaps, at one point, the constellations were reduced to thread; knotted, tangled, and hopeless.

maybe it was better when the string had been unkempt, because now it unraveled. you cried, and cried; in the shower, at your desk, doing chores. tears, hot and sharp like newly shapen diamonds, dripped down your face. your face was permanently marked by the wounds the diamonds left, and contrary to the stars, your eyes were red and hot. your thoughts unwound like string - there was a clear pathway now, but it was tainted by the shape of the knots there had once been.

everything hurt when you thought of bakugou. your swollen eyes became lifeless as memories of him overtook you. they controlled you. you missed therapy session after session, too scared to go to the place which bakugou had connected you to. sometimes, you’d sprawl across the ground, stare into your ceiling, and feel yourself vanish into something, a dark void of nothingness. he had cared so much for you - too much. why had he? why couldn’t he have left you, that one day you were almost robbed? why couldn’t you just have stayed the way you were? why did you have to find the truth in things? ignorance was a bliss you woke yourself from. ignorance, the dream which from you woke to find a nightmare, reality. why did he have to be him, the stupid pro-hero with a heart that bled kindness into yours? why couldn’t he have stayed a two-dimensional public figure, the careless and angry ground zero? why did he have to be in your goddamn life and ruin it, entangle everything into one big mess? you hated him. you hated him and his stupid endearing insults, him and his rugged smirk that pained your heart so, him and his eyes that held sparks and diamonds and you. deep inside, you knew it wasn’t true; hate was just a name for an indefinably strong feeling you had for him. you knew you didn’t hate him, you knew you couldn’t hate him. you told yourself you did to distance yourself from him. the distance between you and he only grew. your memories were tarnished with pain, his image blurry and wrinkled in your eyes. katsuki bakugou was just someone, no one.

this was the feeling of agony, this was the sight of pure hell, and this was the sound of you burning your heart. distance between you and the man named katsuki bakugou grew, as did your descent into pure madness.

until the distance between you and he was less than a metre.

you had not bothered to tame your hair; it was a bit overgrown and sprouted a couple split ends. you were dressed in a stained shirt, your face not even mentionable, and your heart was beating in your ears. you felt yourself dragged quite forcefully down to sanity, as if opening the door suddenly put gravity into effect.

because here he was, katsuki bakugou in all of his perfect glory, standing on your doorstep.

the little shit refrained from making a comment about your current state, but you could see the comment appearing in his eyes and vanishing as soon as it came. you watched his eyes go from the state of your face down to your unkempt attire. he, on the other hand, looked unaffected. he was sporting a t-shirt and jeans, hands shoved into his pockets. the only indicator, which was minuscule at best, that he had changed at all was the red at the corners of his eyes and slight eyebags. he looked shocked at the sight of you.

"y/n..." you almost fainted on the spot.

you weren’t not jumping for joy in ecstasy at the sight of him, and you didn’t feel like a shoujo protagonist at the moment. it was something different.

"again," but your voice was too hoarse to be heard. your mouth opened and closed, you coughed, and repeated yourself. "s-say it again."

"huh?!" it was nice to know someone hadn’t changed after all that time.

"my- my name..."

"eh? enko."

you sighed, your face indifferent. you weren’t exactly disappointed by his reply; it brought memories upon memories of happier times with him.

"well, what do you want?" you asked, rubbing the side of your face.

"what- what the fuck is going on?" he gestured to you. "i should be asking about you. what the f- what happened to you?!"

"i-"

"enko, i don’t get any of this shit. this relationship crap. what do you want me to do?! first, you act weird as shit- because of what?! i don’t fuckin’ know. you avoid me - don’t think i didn’t notice - and then suddenly you spew shit and leave?! i don’t see you for a goddamn week, you don’t answer your damn calls or texts, and suddenly i’m the damn villain and i’m supposed to give you time or shit to figure things out, and when i can finally fucking see you, you look like actual crap?! hell, i should be the one with deteriorating mental health with all of the bull you put me through! if you want something, if you don’t wanna be friends or shit, just goddamn say it to my face! i’m not good with people, enko, goddamnit! tell me what’s wrong!"

you stood in shock. relationship..? you shook his words away. you hadn’t realized how much this took a toll on bakugou, too. he looked away - something glinted in his eyes, but you couldn’t tell exactly what.

"god-fucking-damnit," he grumbled. "...are ya gonna let me in, or what?! it’s cold out here!"

you didn’t think about how bakugou’s quirk involved producing heat, and let him in unreluctantly, stepping aside. "sorry," you mumbled.

he took off his shoes, and you motioned for him to sit down on your couch.

"explain it to me," he demanded. "what in the goddamn world has happened tot you? did someone do this to you?!"

you refrained from saying technically, it was you, and settled on: "no." it was apparent he hadn’t heard you that day. "just- it’s nothing. i was being stupid, a-and i’m okay now." it was a lie.

"do you take me as an idiot?" he asked. gears shifted in his eyes. "sit down," he said, suddenly calm.

you did so, sitting as farthest as you could from him.

"closer," he gritted out. you scooted a centimetre. "closer." another centimeter. "clo-ser." he pulled you so you were sitting angled toward him, knee brushing his.

"baku...gou?" so many questions flashed in your mind.

"confirm something for me," he ordered. "what exactly did you say to me before running away?"

"i- nothing. it was nothing, i told you, bakugou."

"tell. me. i don’t care if you quoted freud, told me a failed joke, or what. tell me."

your mind was devoid of possible jokes you could use to lie.

you opened your mouth, forcing the words out with all your might. "i don’t remember the specifics," you rambled. "i don’t think i was in the right state of mind-"

"spit it out."

"i think it went something like ‘i like you’ or something?" your pitch rose with every syllable.

"tch," a smile was on his face. "thought so." his hand was suddenly on your cheek, and his lips were on yours. he tasted like caramel. your eyes widened, and you pulled away, sputtering.

"what? what d’you mean, ‘thought so’?!"

"idiot, i like you too. also, when did you last brush your teeth?"

"i- that doesn’t matter. bakugou... i don’t think that this relationship is good for us. as friends or whatnot."

"huh? why not?"

"look at me. look at you. i can barely handle my quirk, and you’re a pro-hero who uses his quirk to help people. i can’t really do anything."

he mumbled something under his breath. "enko, do you think i care about any of that? i don’t care if you have the strongest quirk in the world or none at all. you’re strong - and i don’t say this ‘cause i like you - you’re kind, you see the best in people." he paused. "people don’t give me the time of day ‘cause they think i’m too irrational. brash. careless. but you? you see past that, you don’t care. you work hard no matter what people say. people-" his voice caught in his throat, "people say shit to you, and you don’t care. you keep going."

he saw you... like that? your face heated up.

"don’t be gettin’ all shy on me," he grunted. "tch. come here." he pulled you in for a hug, his arms wrapping around you and narrowly avoiding your wings. you flushed, holding him tight and inhaling his caramel scent. you squeezed your eyes shut, wishing to hold him like this forever.

“hey, enko,” he whispered into your ear. you looked at him, who was currently looking up and pointing. “halo.”

[random-mha-thoughts]

Burden (Todoroki x Reader)

Pairing: Todoroki x Reader

Anon asked: “yo so for some Todoroki angst, what about his gf breaking up with him because Endeavor had told her to because he didn't want her to get in the way of Todoroki's "purpose" (she does tell him this) which leads to a very depressed Todoroki left wondering what he did wrong and desperately trying to get her back? Could end happily if you want, up to u"

Genre: Angst to fluff

(Submission 2/3 of Todoroki angst from my post a few days ago) 

Word count: 1,993

Tags:  @yuki-osaki​ @liviitehe​ @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog​ @bunnythepipsqueak

a/n: Legit I’m so tired I almost fell asleep in the middle of writing this, but I wanted to get this out for you guys before the night ended, so I banged it out.  It’s not as intense as Name and it ends happily so I hope you guys enjoy and are left with some fuzzy feelings at the end :3

I wrote this kind of gender neutral soooo yeah, read it as you want to!  Thanks again for the submission anon! I appreciate you!

It hurts to break Todo’s heart.  He’s baby, I just love him so much I wanna protect him :(

Also question, do you guys care if there’s a pic at the top of every post or nah?

From the moment Aizawa told me Endeavor wanted to speak to me, I knew something would go utterly wrong.

"I want you out of my son's life," he ordered bluntly.  "I have big plans for Shouto to become the top hero one day, he doesn't need to be sidetracked by high school romance."

Todoroki had warned me how pushy and controlling his father was, which is why he always kept our relationship somewhat secretive.  I don't even know where or when his father saw us together.  It's shocking, but I can't say I'm totally surprised he's saying it.

"Sir, with all due respect," I'm trying to be polite, but I want to give the man a piece of my mind after all the things Shouto's told me, "Shouto wouldn't appreciate you getting involved in his personal life.  This was a decision he made without you, and I'd say he's happy with it."

Endeavor rolls his eyes and rests his hands on his desk.  "Shouto doesn't know what's good for him.  Besides, I'm sure he only agreed to be in a relationship with you just to rebel against me.  He holds no true feelings for you."

I gape at his statement.  Is he for real?  "I don't know how you could possibly know that, I don't think Todoroki said anything to you about me or his feelings."

The man's turquoise eyes scan me uncomfortably.  "I remember your performance from the Sports Festival.  You barely even made it past the obstacle course round, and the only reason you advanced to the finals was because you happened to be on a winning team.  You even lost your first battle.  Your quirk and your abilities are nothing special."

I clench my fists, rage coursing through my blood.  "Excuse me-"

"Which is why a weakling like you wouldn't be a good match for my son," he continues.  "Think about it.  My son's power is immense, he can stand on his own in a match.  You probably need support from someone else.  He'll eventually grow tired of you and he'll toss you aside for someone on the same level as him."  Endeavor glances at the clock on his desk.  "Now if you'll excuse me, I have another meeting planned."  He rises from his chair and strolls out of the room.  "Give it some thought and I'm sure you'll make the right choice."

I'm left in the middle of his office, shaking and seeing red with rage.  I want to punch and scream in his face.  I don't care if he's some big-shot pro hero, he can takes his words and shove it where the Sun doesn't shine.  How can he talk that way to people so easily? Exasperated (and afraid I'll break something if I stay), I huff out of the room and back to the dorms, mumbling and cursing to myself about all the things I'd like to do to Todoroki's father.

And I hate to admit it, but what he said really gets to me.  My quirk isn't a strong, elemental type like Shouto's.  All I can do is heat things I touch until they melt or burn, including human skin.  I couldn't do much in the Sports Festival except block my opponents by melting the ground beneath them or throwing flaming objects at them.  I've always had a love-hate relationship with my quirk because it was always too destructive or too weak to be a hero's quirk, but I've always tried to use it in offensive ways to help me fight.

As I get off the train, I sigh, Endeavor's words swimming in my mind.  I hate that he might actually be right.  I'm pretty useless.  I can't help Shouto improve himself when he has to worry about constantly building me up and supporting me.  I'd just be a burden to him.

It breaks my heart to know that I'm actually considering going through with this.  Damn it, I can't believe I let Endeavor win.

I trudge into the common room of the dorms.  Everyone's watching TV, eating, or reading.  Shouto turns around from his position near the wall, just observing everyone.  As soon as he sees me, his blank face softens into a smile, making my heart sink.  I hate to break his heart, but it's for the best.

"Hey, where were you?  I was worried for a moment that you wouldn't come back before curfew."  His eyes melt right into mine, displaying nothing but warmth.

My stomach churns.  Aizawa had told me privately, so Todoroki doesn't know I just faced his father.  "My parents needed me to go grocery shopping for them.  They're both out of town, so they didn't get to go before they left."  I bite my lip, dreading what's going to come next.  "Can we...talk outside?"

The fondness stiffens into anxiety and I see his Adam's apple move as he gulps.  "Okay."

Once we're outside, it gets more difficult for me to look him in the eyes because I'm afraid I'll cry, and I have to be the strong one.  I take a deep breath to calm myself, feeling his eyes on me.  Just rip it off like a band-aid.  "I think we should break up."

At first I thought I'd said it too quickly for him to understand, but the way his face falls confirms he heard just fine.  I feel like I've just kicked the most precious puppy in the world, I want to cry in his arms and confess everything that just happened, but I can't.

The confusion and despair mixes in his eyes as he stares at he ground, his eyes flickering back and forth.  "Did I do something wrong?  Please tell me, I'll fix it."

My throat threatens to close up, but I swallow hard.  "It's nothing you did, Shouto.  I just think we might've rushed into this.  We let our feelings get in the way of why we're really here, and it wasn't to get into relationships."  I muster up the courage to stare at him with a hardened look.  "We should focus on our real priorities from now on.  I'm sorry."

Shouto's crestfallen expression kept falling with every word I said and I can't take anymore.  I calmly walk back inside the dorm and head upstairs to my room, about to explode into tears and I can't let anyone see it.  As soon as I shut the door, I break into sobs and collapse onto my knees.  The memory of his face right before I left remains behind my eyelids.  I hate possibly seeing him cry or get angry.  For both of our sake, I'm praying that he gets over it quickly.  We only dated for a few months, he should get over it fairly quickly.

.

He didn't get over it.

Even after almost a week, Shouto never failed to get through a day without boring holes in the back of my head.  He seemed so lost without me even when he's surrounded by his friends.  It got to the point where I decided to start having my lunch in an empty classroom because I would feel like breaking down whenever I meet his heartbroken stare.

There were even a few times where he would come up to me in the halls while I stopped to talk to someone and tried to talk to me, but I had to politely smile and tell him I was busy with the person I was with and then walk away.

It hurts.  It just hurts so much.

But if it means we can both benefit and get stronger without me burdening him, I have to stand my ground.  I started throwing myself into intense training alone.  I'm trying to focus my quirk on emitting heat to things so I don't have to touch them, but I'm not getting anywhere fast with it.

After a few days of frustrating myself, Shouto suddenly bangs the door open in the middle of my training.  At first I want to politely ask him to leave, but the anger burning in his eyes stops me as he marches to stand right in front of me.  I feel terribly small in his presence, I don't even want to meet his eyes.  "What-"

"Why didn't you tell me my father asked to see you?" he asks, his voice dangerously low, like a time bomb waiting to explode.

I feel my face lose all color.  How did he find out?  "Who-?"

"Uraraka told me," he answers before I can finish, fists clenching at his sides.  "I had a hunch there was something wrong.  What did he tell you?"

I'm torn between answering and keeping my mouth shut, incapable of even looking him in the eyes for fear I might fall apart right here.  "N-Nothing," I manage feebly.

"Tell me," the edge in his voice growing.  The room gets hotter and colder at the same time as Shouto's quirk starts releasing out of his control.

I scrunch my eyes shut to hold back tears.  "H-He told me you didn't actually have feelings for me and that you're only dating me to rebel against him," I sniff, "And then he said I'm too weak for you, that I'm nothing special, and you'll eventually get tired of me because I can't hold my own in a battle and you'd rather be with someone with the same ability level as you."  The hot tears finally escape my eyes and run down my face.  "And he's right, isn't he?  I'm just a burden to you.  I'm probably better suited to be someone's sidekick than a hero.  I'm nowhere near the same level as you."

I reach up to wipe my face of my stupid tears when Shouto steps closer and gently wipes them away with his thumbs.  His hands remain there, holding my head between his hands, the familiar gesture making me choke out a sob.  Anger had melted away into understanding and sympathy.  "I don't care about the strength of your quirk or how useful you are in battle.  I care about you, as the person I love.  And I'd never get tired of you."

He plants a soft kiss on my forehead and I collapse into his chest, my arms wrapping around him and gripping the back of his shirt as I let everything out.  His comforting fresh scent calms me down as he pats my back.

"I'm sorry, Shouto," my sobs muffle into his clothes, "I let him get to me.  I was too weak to tell you anything and I thought you wouldn't want me anymore.  I'm sorry I put you through this."

The boy buries another kiss in my hair.  "I knew you wouldn't think of this on your own, love.  You know how much I care about you."

"I know," I sniff again separating from him and wiping my face, "I was stupid.  I made both of us suffer for no reason."

Shouto cradles my cheek with his left hand and I lean into his warm, holding onto his wrist.  "Can we get back together then?  I miss you a lot."  Those mismatched eyes hold more love in them than I can even fathom.  They choke me up so much I can only nod.

His icy hand pulls me in by my waist before sealing our lips together in a sweet reunion kiss.  We move against each other, familiar feelings burst out of us to express exactly how much we missed out on each other in the past couple weeks.

Shouto pulls away just far enough to keep our foreheads still pressed together.  "If my father ever tries to meet you again, you're taking me with you.  I'm not letting him disrespect you like that.  He needs to know his place."

"Okay. don't get so worked up," I kiss his nose, to which he blushes and I giggle.  "Now can you help me with my training now?  I need to catch up with you."

[impala-dreamer]

Things We Never Said

SPN FanFic

~The Winchesters have a hard time getting the right words out at the right time.~

Dean x Reader, Sam x Reader

1,565 Words

Warnings: Super Angst.

A/N: This is for my Fic Imitating Art Challenge! The prompt is entirely based on the graphic created by @because-imma-lady-assface. I hope you enjoy!

Feedback is Gold ~ My Masterlist ~ Become A Patreon

Dean wasn’t good with words. They tumbled out of him in emotional bursts that usually got the wrong reaction, causing more problems than they solved.

Sam...he knew how to find the words, knew what he wanted, needed to say,  just not how to get them out. Not when it came to you. Neither of them knew how to explain just what you meant to them.

They met you on a Tuesday, which Sam found strange when he looked back later, because nothing good ever happened on a Tuesday. It was raining, which Dean enjoyed, and he always would remember how you looked up from the ground, covered in mud and cuts, lashes carrying raindrops as you blinked at him.

“Thanks for the hand,” you teased, out of breath from the fight, wind knocked out of you as the demon power shot you across the empty field.

Dean gave a short laugh and extended a hand, instantly taken back when your small hand fit so perfectly into his. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

You jumped to your feet and wiped a bit of mud from your cheek. “Don’t worry about it. I’m used to getting dirty.”

Something about the way you winked at him punched him in the chest and that was the end of him. He could feel it right then and there. Maybe he’d never call it love, but it was something, and that something was stronger than he’d felt in forever.

“You got a name, stranger?” you asked, turning a sly smile at his glazed expression.

“Uh…” His lips moved but no name came out.

“Winchester,” Sam spoke up, jog coming to a halt by your side. “I’m Sam,” he said, reaching to shake your hand. “This is my brother, Dean.”

You smiled up at him as you slipped free from Dean’s grip and into Sam’s. “Sam and Dean Winchester? The Sam and Dean?”

Sam blushed and nodded, bit of hair falling to cover his hazel eyes. “I guess so.”

“Well, lucky me.” You bit your lip and smiled, innocent eyes sparkling even in the darkness of the storm.

Sam fell hard in that moment, lost in the twinkle in your eye and the softness of your voice. He felt his heart beat, every muscle coming to life as you held his hand so tight. He was hooked.

“You fellas wanna give a lady a ride back to her car?” you asked, finally letting them both go and turning towards the road. A quick look over your shoulder showed the brothers frozen in place, faint smitten smiles turning their lips. You laughed and let them watch you walk away, swinging your hips a little more obviously than usual.

Dean sighed. “She’s…”

Sam cleared his throat. “Yeah…”

The brothers shared a look and took off, determined to see who would get to you first; a friendly competition for your hand.

Time moved quickly as it always did and the Tuesdays piled up in the rearview.

In the end, neither Winchester made a move, knowing it would only lead to trouble between them. The world gave them enough issues. Bringing one home, even one as intriguing as you, just wasn’t in the cards.

That was fine with you, you weren’t in it for love anyway. Still, there were times when Dean’s lips accidentally met yours after a bottle of whiskey, or his heated admonishments would make your heart swell, knowing he yelled because he was worried.

You never talked about those drunken nights or passionate pep talks, not with anyone.

Not even when Sam slipped into your room at night, curling his long body around yours, nuzzling into your ear, whispering words of comfort. Not when his fingers would brush against yours beneath the table while you both poured over books in the Library.

It was an unspoken thing. They both held your heart, but they pretended all was normal. Just friends, colleagues even. A trio of hunters working to rid the world of monsters and the evil that lurked in the night.

It was a Tuesday when they lost you.

The poetic irony of the day nearly snapped Sam in half when he realized the date, rushing to your side as you fell, the monster’s claws ripping straight through your flesh.

The sun was bright and the sky was filled with marshmallow clouds that seemed soft and calming; your eyes locking onto one that looked a bit like a duck as Dean cradled your head in his lap.

“No, Y/N/N, please…” his voice cracked as he rubbed your cheek with his big thumb, feeling the cold already setting in.

You pulled away from the sky to look into his eyes one last time. You could feel the blood flowing, pouring out even as Sam pressed his giant hands to your stomach. “Dean…” you smiled as he leaned close, tears welling in his green eyes. “I love you.”

He shuddered and pressed his forehead to yours, jaw clenching as he tried to keep himself together.

Sam was shaking, pushing down on your wound, but all the pressure in the world couldn’t hold back the flood. It was too much. It was too late.

You reached for him, a weak hand rising to curl around his ear. “Sam, hey.”

He looked up, face masked with misery. “Y/N, I…”

“Come here.” Dizziness crept in as the sky burned bright white above, but Sam blocked the brightness as he leaned close.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he whispered, lifting a bloody hand to your cheek.

“No, Sam.” A cough shook your body and you bit back a scream, determined to make it through one last word. “L-love you.”

It was raining again, but the flames took no notice.

Sam stood at Dean’s left, cheeks flooded with tears, hands stuffed deep in his pockets. His shoulders were tight and his body was slumped, somehow shrinking him down into a shell of a man instead of the giant hero he was. Grief was heavy. His heart even more so.

Dean was calm. He stood like a statue, eyes unblinking as the pyre consumed your body. He was tired of saying goodbye, tired of feeling the heartache of love lost too soon. It clawed at him from deep inside, shredding his soul with every speck of ash that floated to Heaven.

Sam broke the silence, speaking suddenly as if you could still hear him. His voice was strained and high as he choked around the tears. “Y/N, I… I’m sorry I couldn’t save you. I’m sorry we…”

“Don’t do that,” Dean spat, head shaking subtly.

“What?”

“Don’t apologize to her. This wasn’t your fault.”  

Sam let out a quick breath as anger began to brew. “It wasn’t yours either.”

Dean nodded. “I know.”

The fire crackled loudly and Sam turned back to the outline of your body.

“There’s no blame here,” Dean said, never looking away from the flames. “It’s not anyone’s fault, Sammy. Shit happens. She died how she wanted.”

“She didn’t want to die, Dean,” Sam snapped.

“No, but she knew she would some day.”

Sam grit his teeth. “Why are you being so calm about this?”

“I’m not.” His voice was too even, too slow, and the tears began to fall at last. “I loved her, Sam. Since the first moment I saw her. I feel...I feel like my heart’s been ripped out of my chest and is burning on that pyre right now. I…” He took a deep breath and licked the salt from his lip, eyes darting between the wood and ash. “I never told her. I could never fucking say it back.”

Sam broke again, letting go of the anger he felt at Dean’s apparent callousness and falling forward. He hit the ground and sank back, bringing his knees up to his chest like a little boy lost in a crowd. “She was…”

Dean looked down and back, nodding quickly. “I know, Sammy.”

“And she never asked for anything,” he went on, words tumbling from his shaking lips. “Never complained about what we were or what you guys were, never brought it up. It’s like...she was happy in the middle. Just to be there. She was she was always there. I should have told her. I should have said it. I…”

Dean took a breath and closed his eyes finally, lifting his face to the sky, letting the heat of the funeral flames lick at his cheeks. “She knew.”

“Did she?” Sam yelled. “Did she!”

Green eyes returned to the fire, barely able to make out your silhouette anymore. “She did, Sam. I know she did.”

They weren’t good with words.

Dean never figured out the things he wanted to say in the way he wanted to say them; substituting an ‘I Love You’ with a kiss on the forehead or a longing smile from afar.

Sam never said what he needed to; fear and doubt keeping his words locked deep inside. He would share his nightmares and wishes, hopes and heartache in quiet whispers in the dark, but ‘I Love You’ was too hard to touch.

They kept your picture in the Library; small framed snapshot tucked away on a shelf with the books you loved, a smile captured and kept forever.

They kept their ‘I Love Yous’ in that same Library, filed away under ‘Things We Never Said’.

2019 Forever Tags:

@akshi8278 @amanda-teaches @arses21434 @because-imma-lady-assface @burningcoffeetimetravel @colagirl5 @cosicas-cuquis @cosmicfire72 @courtney-elizabeth-winchester @covered-byroses @crashdevlin @dean-winchesters-bacon @deansenwackles @deansgirl215 @dolphincliffs @dubuforeveralone @emilyshurley @emoryhemsworth @ericaprice2008 @eternal-elir @feelmyroarrrr @flamencodiva @focusonspn @gayspacenerd @herbologystudent252 @hobby27 @ilsawasanacrobat @justcallmeasmodeus​ @katymacsupernatural @lastactiontricia @maddiepants @mariekoukie6661 @meganwinchester1999 @missjenniferb @mrswhozeewhatsis @our-jensen-ackles-love  @peridot-rose @pisces-cutie @risingphoenix761 @roonyxx @roxyspearing @sandlee44 @shadowkat-83 @spnbaby-67 @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @spnficgirl  @supernaturaldean67 @supernatural-took-me-over @thehardcoveraddict @tmiships4life @wegoddessofhell @winchesterprincessbride

[yanderedbh-moved]

The Yanderes As Shakespeare Villains

Please take this post with a grain of salt, about 90% of the characters here are expressly not meant to be either entirely good or entirely evil and not going to lie. I mostly just titled this list “yanderes as villains” for the sake of a title, as more than a few of these characters are far more like anti-heroes than outright villains. Would I identify all the Shakespeare Characters below as antagonists? No. Do I feel they are similar enough to be compared to their DBH counterpart? Yes. All that in mind, please enjoy!

Connor: Macbeth, Macbeth

(Specifically the “nice” version of Connor.) Strung along while heavily manipulated under the control of Amanda/Cyberlife as Macbeth is manipulated by his wife Lady Macbeth, despite all this. However, they are the ones actively doing evil. Carrying out these acts of violence.

Straddle the line between victim and villain. Because of this, they're viewed wildly differently by other characters. Additionally, both are dynamic characters, developing and changing thoroughly from the beginning to the end of the play.

Even though both characters unleash severe pain and even death onto others, it's mostly on account of manipulation. Because of this lack of intention on their end to commit these acts, they suffer the regret and remorse later.

Markus: Cassius, Julius Caesar

Much of their resentment for their enemy is on account of having to live and serve as a lesser to a force of evil. Not necessarily Carl specifically, but still, Markus is forced to serve and interact with humans who hate him.

They fight for freedom and Liberation from the unjust in a way. Markus for androids who deserve a better life, Cassius, who argues Rome is too good to be controlled by a tyrant like Caesar.

Not necessarily an identical parallel but one which still connects the two, Cassius is motivated by his envy for Caesar. At the same time, Markus wants revenge on humans for what they did to him and his people.

Kara: Aaron, Titus Andronicus

The only time Kara is violent, even potentially lethal to others in the story, is in the name of devotion to her child. In the same way, Aaron’s redeeming factor is his devotion to his own son.

There isn’t exactly any real detail given to explain what it is that motivates them beyond the fact they appear to act based on instincts. Kara’s instincts telling her to act as a “mama bear” for Alice, while Aaron is only doing what he believes to be right in the name of being a good lover, and provider for his significant other.

Fundamentally their monogamy and the way they are so loving with only the one they care the most about is central to their characterization. Kara is one of the only non-pleasure based female androids, and Aaron mostly only acts as a way to appease his lover.

Hank: Shylock, The Merchant of Venice

Despite if you love or hate either of them, it's undeniable that they are a victim of circumstance. His villainy is one that is created, not what he was born with.

The driving force behind his dramatic change in behavior is on a count of losing a loved family member. Causing them to cling desperately to what they have left hardening themselves in the process.

Shylock demands a pound of flesh in return for his daughter, while Hank straight-up murders (ok, technically he only shoots him in the head, but his intent stands, just the same.) Connor, on account has misplaced anger towards androids.

Luther: Hamlet, Hamlet

Hamlet may be the tragic hero of the story, and Luther is given a fair shot at redemption. Still, it's wrong to ignore the fact that both of these characters committed evil deeds before the conclusion of their story.

Both arguably have blood on their hands for some character's death even though they're not the direct killers. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern were sent to their deaths by Hamlet, and Luther's complacency in Zlatko’s house kept more androids suffering.

Hardly means they should be counted among the blood thirstiest of villains listed. As they are developed through story and are defined more by their redemption and complexity than by their own faults and failings.

North: Lady Macbeth, Macbeth

Fiercely driven by her appetite for power and ambition, an iconic and classic example of female power and the corrosive influence on her husband.

Obviously, she acts as the driving force in trying to convert Markus and pursuing a path of violence and vengeance. She won't hesitate in her goals, no matter the hesitance of others.

No doubt, this unrelenting thirst for violence would likewise extend to her as a yandere. She would see her actions as ones made out of love and selflessness.

Simon: Tamora, Titus Andronicus

Strikes a chilling balance between a schemer and a bloodthirsty murderer while never leaning too far to one extreme. In a sick way, by keeping this balance, this allows Tamora to embrace the full power of violence, as well as calculation.

While in her own right, she might not be expressly powerful in her own right. However, by aligning herself with as a leader becomes far stronger, similarly, Simon is one of Markus' right-hand men.

He would be the kind of yandere who should never under any circumstances be underestimated as he is capable of intense violence. Far more than meets the eye

Josh: Claudius, Hamlet

Claudius is an interesting villain because, even though he is the one actively committing acts of violence, he is absolutely doing this of his own free will. He’s not manipulated by another, or only doing this for some higher goal. He wants power, and he knows he must kill the current king to achieve this. Yet still, he feels remorse and unease over this. Josh similarly will openly vocalize his dismay over Markus pursuing violence, yet always, will follow through with his leader all the same.

There is no joy in this bloodshed. Both are brutally realistic and understand, ultimately killing is fundamentally wrong, but follow through with this plot to satisfy their own needs. To them, killing is always wrong, it was wrong when they committed this sin, and they fear their time of atonement is coming.

Both the stories of Hamlet and DBH share the notion that no one is entirely good or entirely evil. Even though he knows it’s probably a lost cause, Josh still pleads with Markus to turn to the side of peace and to favor mercy. Claudius may be self-serving to an insidious degree. Still, it’s debatable he did care for Queen Gertrude and felt pain when she died.

Kamski: Edmund, King Lear

While it’s not ever disclosed in canon any real details about Elijah’s upbringing, the two of them share a kind of “larger than life" persona. At least a part of their motivations could be described as going above and beyond the “common man.” For Edmund, this is because of his humble upbringing, and it’s at least possible Elijah shares this need to be celebrated on account of unremarkable upbringing.

Both Elijah and Edmund are absolute snakes! There’s nothing trustworthy or loyal about them, and they have no problem sacrificing or hurting others in the name of their own gain. Edmund, the adulterer, and Kamski, who was fully ready to let Connor shoot one of his companions.

Their quest to become the perfect self-made man left them cold and withdrawn as a result. In the narrative, this cold and withdrawn behavior is Elijah’s way of appearing more cold and mysterious. At the same time, for Edmund, this is a representation of his resentment for the familial love he never received.

Chloe: Titania, A Midsummer’s Night Dream

Both are extraordinary women. Titania is debatably the most powerful character in the entire play, while Chloe is a sophisticated, empathetically driven android, perhaps the most advanced ever, in this sense. Yet are unable to reach their full potential, on account of living under the control of men. Titania, subjected to life under Oberon, and Chloe's bound to a life of domesticity.

Despite their implied superior abilities and potential, they aren’t even really able to fight back against the men who control them. Titania, under the influence of a love spell, forces her to act a fool for her husband’s enjoyment. As Chloe is kept separate and isolated from the rest of the world with no way to make connections of her own.

(I am so sorry, Titania is not a villain in any way, this is all such a reach, but this… this was literally all I got, RIP.)

Gavin: Tybalt, Romeo and Juliet

Definitely a “what you see is what you get” kind of antagonist. And this description applies to both men from the beginning to the end of the story. They wear their motivations and emotions on their sleeves and are unapologetic for the way they act and treat others.

Complete hot-heads. While they may claim not to have selfish motives, as in, they genuinely believe their enemies to be as evil and reproachable as they say, but this is not true. Tybalt’s pugnacious behavior leading to his, and the deaths of many others. While Gavin’s opposition to his fellow investigator prolong progress and only lead to infighting and tensions rising between other humans and androids.

Both characters are pretty much the closest thing to an “all bad” character as it gets. While Tybalt may mean well in some way, to protect his family from the Montagues, he doesn’t care for their well being the moment the rival family is gone. And is clearly only fighting so hard for his own enjoyment. Similarly, for someone who wants to keep humans and androids apart as fiercely as Gavin wants, he doesn’t seem to have any good-will, or kindness to share with any of his fellow humans.

Zlatko: Richard the third, Richard the Third

Both characters follow the arcs of characters who desire power, or to hold a superior status to others, only to lose this power when taken down by the demons of their past.

Even when they are surrounded by the faces of those they’ve wronged in their past, it’s only until the very last second that either of these characters shows any semblance of regret for what they’ve done. And in Zlatko’s case, this doesn’t mean he regrets what he did to the androids he tortured but does regret how he wound up in a position like this.

Ralph: Caliban, The Tempest

Both are fiercely territorial of the places they reside in. While they may or may not have a right to this level of possessiveness, it’s important to acknowledge they only have to share the space anyway on account of unfairness. (Caliban was tricked into giving up possession of his island, and Ralph technically was here before anyone else, and even if he doesn’t own the area officially, it’s still his space.)

Both are written to be “monster” like characters. Or, in other words, characters who are fundamentally different from the humans in the story. Ralph an android, as well as “corrupted” on account of his trauma. While Caliban is described as a creature that lived in the wilderness before the island was under Prospero’s control.

Through the roughness, they present to the outside world, however, the audience sees a glimmer of softness, and maybe even more intelligent than given credit for. If Kara is kind to Ralph, then he will refuse to give away her position to Connor, even under intimidation. Caliban actually does desire a life on the island with Miranda by his side. (Granted, saying he wants to populate the island with “lots of little Calibans” was a bit of a yikes move on his part.)

Daniel: Goneril & Regan

They share a common theme at the heart of their stories. The idea of spending your time, life, and energy to be close to another, to be considered a part of the family, only to lose themselves to jealousy at the notion of being replaced.

Characters with motivations which may appear petty at first glance, however, this is more than enough motivation to enact intense violence. For Daniel, this means threatening to drag the young daughter of his former host family off the top of a building. For Regan, this means literally pulling out someone’s eyes.

Nines: Don John, Much Ado About Nothing

(This is partly a headcanon here.) Even though Nines is considered an upgrade from his predecessor, Connor, that doesn’t change the fact he’s still fundamentally following in his brother’s footsteps, and he can’t help but feel out shined here. A kind of familial resentment John experiences, which motivates his actions in the story.

Even though this petty jealousy may appear superficial at first glance, it’s critical not to underestimate these characters. They are both intelligent schemers. No one is truly safe from, or around them.

This would absolutely extend to you, in terms of yandere Nines. His treachery runs deeply, and if he is so ready to start a war against his own brother than you will never know if you’re genuinely safe around him.

[akitokihojo]

In Between: Finale

You guys have absolutely no idea how much research and work went into this fic. I’ve had to clear my Google search history on multiple occasions because it just looked sketchy as fuck and my FBI agent was probably getting real sick of my shit.

I really wanted to take a moment to thank everyone who’s read this story, and even those who are just reading it now. I can hardly begin to describe the gratitude I feel. The reviews and keyboard smashes and simple comments saying, “......fuck.” were all so amazing and appreciated, and also very rewarding! Thank you all so much!

Also I want it noted, just for my own pride, that the fighting/martial arts mentioned in chapter 4 and coming up in this chapter are actually choreographed. Like, I got the fuck up out of my seat and physically choreographed the scenes. I’m trained in some martial arts so I did my best to apply that to my writing, and I’m really glad no one walked in on me throwing hands at the air. 

Okay, I’m done rambling! I hope you enjoy the conclusion to In Between! Thank you so much for reading!

Previous chapters can be found in my fic masterlist, as well as on AO3 and ff.net.

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Inuyasha stirred as a shiver crawled over his skin, discomfort disturbing his sleep and waking him as he blinked his eyes open with a meager grunt. The apartment was still mostly dark, save for the light from the momentarily-blinding rays from the television, but he figured the sun was beginning its ascent into the sky from the way distant sounds were reaching his ears once more. He closed his eyes, knowing he wouldn't fall back asleep but unwilling to allow the lethargy to leave just yet. He could already feel the ache in his neck from sleeping on the couch, but it still wasn't enough motivation to get him to move any more than wiggling his foot to check and see that Kagome was still nearby. When his toes brushed nothing but air, he reached a little further and grazed the rough texture of a throw pillow. 

Perking his head up, he blinked a few times to focus his vision on the vacant side of the sofa. Inuyasha took in the scents of the room, her aroma still around but diminished. It wasn't fresh. Reality began to sink in as he curled up to a sitting, an unnerving sensation tingling within his stomach as he swiveled his head to look about the room. The bathroom door was open. The TV's volume was set low to a mumble. Her scent wasn't stronger no matter which way he faced. Kagome was gone. 

He jumped from the couch, growling a curse as he snatched his phone from the counter to check for any notifications. Nothing. There were no abnormal odors around; no one had come inside. What the fuck could have possibly happened while he slept? This was why he hated letting his guard down on the night of the new moon. Too much got past him. Too much could occur that he had very limited power to prevent. Inuyasha dialed Kagome's number, putting the call on speaker as he stormed out of the apartment, following her feint scent down the stairs and toward the lobby. It went to voicemail.

"Kagome, where the fuck are you!? Answer your phone!" He demanded at the beep. He kept pace down the stairwell, immediately hitting redial and calling her cell again. Voicemail. He hung up that time, his bare feet slapping against the tile of the small lobby. Her scent led out the door and he damn near halted in his tracks from the way his entire body went violently rigid. She left the building completely. Hours ago, and it wasn't by force. How fucking stupid do you have to be not to understand how horrible of an idea that was? What could have compelled her? Jesus, why did she leave?

Inuyasha was fuming, his nose suddenly catching a horrendous stench as he stomped forward and threw the door open, bringing him to a stop right there in the doorway. It was familiar and recent, and he realized he'd been so hyper focused on Kagome's scent that he almost completely missed this one. A painful ache churned inside of him. The scents of the two didn't mix, and he was becoming more and more disturbed as he tried to figure out what the hell was going on. Inuyasha flinched as his deafening ringtone went off in his hand, forgetting he'd turned it all the way up just after turning human the night before. Kagome's name and contact picture had the screen coming to life, her bright smile only making him all the more furious.

"Are you fucking kidding me right now!?" He answered, stepping back inside and dropping the door.

"Woah," A deep voice on the opposite end drawled, smooth and low. "Is that any way to greet an old friend?"

An unbearable chill washed over Inuyasha's body, each muscle quaking as it passed through, keeping him glued in place as his stomach gradually turned to lead, weighing heavily within his own abdomen. 

"It's been a long time, Inuyasha." He said his name slow, enunciating every syllable.

"What - how did you..."

"Oh, it was easy. She's much like you, you see. She has a hero complex. Texted her saying I was Kikyo and in trouble, and she waltzed on out the door to save her. Didn't even have to come up with a sob story to twist her leg a bit."

It dawned on him that he'd never told her. Of course, she didn't know any better, Kagome thought Inuyasha was still on the lookout for Kikyo. This was his fault.

"Let her go." Inuyasha ordered, the words clenched in his throat. His teeth ground tight causing his demand to come out as more of a deep, guttural growl than a clear bark, and the chuckle from the psychopath in the receiver had his blood boiling over and pumping searingly through each vein of his body.

"I'm sorry, I didn't get that."

"LET HER GO!" He bellowed, the shout echoing in the lobby he stood in. "You want me, you've got me! She has nothing to do with this!"

"You'll just have to come and get her." Naraku laughed. There was a muffled scream in the background, and Inuyasha's ears inadvertently pinned to his head. It wasn't close, it sounded far off; like Naraku was standing a good distance away, but nonetheless, it came from Kagome and it caused something to stir excruciatingly within him. 

"Awe, did you hear that?" Naraku taunted, his voice knocking up an octave. "I think she's saying, "Come save me. Come save me, Inuyasha." Oof, she's a feisty one."

Inuyasha couldn't tell what was happening. As he was talking, he'd heard Kagome's grunts getting louder, like Naraku had moved closer to her. Then he suddenly lurched away, the oof more of a reaction sound than anything.

"Where the fuck are you!?"

"In all the time we've spent together, have I ever given you an answer that easily?"

Inuyasha struck a nearby wall, his fist easily punching through the drywall material. "I'm not playing these games again!"

"If you want your precious Kagome back, you will. Don't worry, I'm not completely heartless. I left you a clue to give you a head start. I'm sure I'll be seeing you soon, Inuyasha."

The line went dead, three dull beeps signifying so.

Immediately, Inuyasha stormed after the repugnant smell. He curved around the corner to the three adjacent walls of mailboxes labeled specifically pertaining to each unit, his ember eyes landing on the polaroid picture taped to his own. He ripped it off, his mouth parting as he took in the low-quality, scratchy sight of Kagome on her knees on the dingy, damp, brown floor. Her dark hair was wild, covering a good portion of her face as she looked into the camera, shadowed eyes hidden beneath deeply-furrowed brows. Her hands were tied in front of her, a rope cinched around her wrists in what looked like a double column. The ends were loose along the floor, secured around a nearby, metal support beam. Her mouth was covered with silver duct tape, which explained how muffled her cries sounded, and it took everything in Inuyasha's power not to look away from the picture. Instead, he pulled it closer to his face, he studied her surroundings, the rusted beams lined in a row, the weeds that had grown through the cracks in the ground, the graffiti littering the distant wall in the very corner of the photo. It looked like an abandoned warehouse, but it was hard to tell. The place was dark, making details even more difficult to make out, Kagome seemingly illuminated by the camera's flash.

He racked his brain for all the abandoned warehouses he knew of in the city, all the abandoned warehouses he may have had a run in at. If this was a clue, then he knew the place; there was hardly anything else that he could note in the picture that would give it away. He had to know where she was, so where the fuck was she? What warehouse could potentially play a significant role in tying he and Naraku together?

There was one east of town in an industrial area. There had been an accident there years ago and the place shut down. There was one near the lake off a winding road that was overgrown with shrubbery by now. He hadn't been there, personally, but he knew Sango and Hojo busted a sex operation at that location. There was a warehouse immediately south of him, but it was recently purchased by a construction company so it was inhabited and he couldn't imagine Naraku getting away with stocking a person along a support beam in plain sight. Inuyasha flipped on his cellphone flashlight, holding it to the picture to reach for any additional detail he could scrounge up that the dim lighting provided in the mailroom couldn't help reveal, desperate to find anything, his sharp eyes landing on the hint of yellow graffiti in the upper left corner on the distant wall.

It hit him like a flying brick. He knew where she was.

County Jail - One hour earlier - 

"He's been screaming to get you guys down here for hours. He refused to calm down until we called you."

"Has he said what this is about?"

"Just that it was important and you'd want to hear this. He's in here." The guard opened the door, a disheveled Byakuya sitting in a seat at the table, cuffed hands shaking on top of the metal surface. His violet eyes shot up at her, perturbation written into the deep lines beneath his eyes. His lawyer stood mere inches from him, his chin raising indignantly as they entered the room and the guard shut the door behind them.

"Alright, you've got us here. What was it you wanted?" Kagura asked, setting her briefcase down on the table as she took a seat across from them. Sango sat in the neighboring chair, her eyes studying the angsty criminal.

"I'm ready to talk." He admitted as his attorney joined them, his expression stone cold and straight. "Naraku, he - he's about to make his move. Today. He's gonna do something today, he's been going on about it for months. It's going to be on the nine year anniversary of his arrest, that's what he said. That's today!"

"What is he going to do?" Sango firmly asked, inching inward as the suspense in the room intensified.

"I-I don't know." He shook his head, his heightened nerves evident in the chatter of his jaw. "I just know he's going to do something reckless! I mean, this is Naraku we're talking about! We don't need to add to his kill count, maybe we can stop him in time!"

"Where is he, Byakuya!?" She asked, more fervor to her tone, enunciating each word that left her lips.

"Now that's where I have to stop you. We've yet to strike a deal." Gatenmaru interjected, his hand held up to halt all conversation. "What do you got?" He directed the question to Kagura.

She held herself professionally, unfazed by the inquiry as she sat up tall and answered, "Seventeen years without parole."

"Let's be real, you and I both know that's not the best you can give. Try again." There was challenge glimmering in his slanted, black eyes.

"He's being charged with aggravated assault, aiding and harboring a fugitive, and accessory to murder. Seventeen years is what's on the table. Take it."

"Accessory to murder?" Gatenmaru guffawed. "He wasn't even aware the murder took place. That charge won't hold in court."

"Oh, I'm pretty sure it will considering it never would have happened had your client not helped his brother escape from the institution."

"No." Byakuya cut in, his eyes staring widely at the table beneath his forearms. "No! No! No! You know damn well that's not what I care about!" He shouted, Gatenmaru staring back at him with an expression that said he knew better for his client.

"Give us a moment, we'll work it all out."

"No!" He darted his sharp and direct gaze across to Sango, and she almost flinched from the desperation behind it. "I don't care about my sentence, I'll do my time! I don't care if I never see the light of day again, just - don't - kill - him."

"What?"

"Don't kill him! No matter what, do not kill him! Please! He can get better with medication, can't he? Give him another chance! That's all I want!"

Her mouth parted, the skin of her lips slowly peeling open, stunned from his powerful plea. It wasn't practical, though. She knew it, and the riddling stiffness of the prosecuting attorney seated next to her told her Kagura knew it as well. "I promise we will do everything in our power to have Naraku safely apprehended."

"That's not what I asked for! I want complete assurance that your team wont exercise commonly-known police brutality against my mentally ill brother! Promise me that!"

"Byakuya, I can't." She stated carefully. "I hear you, I understand exactly what you're worried about. It's never in our mission to kill a perp, please recognize that. Our number one goal is and always will be the safety of everyone involved. Sometimes, though, things don't work out that way-"

"Well, make sure it does!"

"If Naraku is in a manic state and poses a threat, our team may be given orders to take him down any way that we can. That's just the reality of it. I swear, I will do everything I can to avoid violence."

"That's not good enough!"

"We're wasting time, Byakuya!"

"You think I'll personally help send in a sniper to shoot my brother down!?"

"The sooner you tell me, the sooner we can get to Naraku! Like you said, maybe we can stop him in time! But that window may close if you don't tell us what you know!"

"You don't have to tell them!" Gatenmaru intervened.

"And you can't aid in the obstruction of justice! Back off, Gatenmaru, or I'll personally make sure you're disbarred!" Kagura snapped, darting a warning glare at the defense attorney.

"Byakuya, give us a chance to give Naraku a chance! You've gotta work with me, this is the only way the odds can potentially be in our favor!"

He stared at her, lips pressed together in a restrained snarl. It wasn't good enough for him. Unless he had a written and signed agreement that his brother wouldn't be harmed in his arrest, he refused to comply. Sango seemed sincere, but he didn't trust her. She was a cop. She was a dirty, careless, tyrant of a cop that liked to wave her power in the air like a picket sign. She couldn't fool him, but he could definitely fool her.

He controlled his expression, softening the disbelief in his scowl to appear as convincing as possible. He even sagged his shoulders in defeat, observing as Sango leaned forward for the information he was about to give. "He's at the warehouse by the lake. Off of McArther Road.”

—

Inuyasha shoved a small, loaded pistol into his boot, concealing it beneath his jeans as he hastily double checked that the Glock was still strapped to his hip. He grabbed his badge off the bedside table, clipping it to his side as he snagged the phone he'd dropped on his bed and dialed his partner.

Koga picked up on the second ring, opening his car door and stepping out as he pressed the cell to his ear.

"Bad timing." He answered.

"Meet me at the warehouse at the county line." Inuyasha gruffly said. He seemed breathless, like he'd had the wind knocked out of him. There was an edge of panic in his tone, aiding in the bite behind the order. Koga couldn't stifle the confusion that wrinkled his forehead. What was happening? Why was he coincidentally being pulled to one warehouse when he'd just shown up at another with an entire armed squad.

"What's going on?"

"He's got Kagome!"

"How!?"

"I don't have time to explain! I'm leaving now! I don't know how long it'll take me to get there since I don't have a fucking car, but-"

"How do you know where she is!?" Koga kept out of the swarm of specialists and cops, keeping his hot tone as hushed as possible as he stepped behind a swat truck for an inkling of privacy. His instincts had been telling him something was incredibly off since Sango called them all in before the butt crack of dawn, but he couldn't put his finger on what it was exactly, dismissing it as the climactic ending to this overdrawn affair with Naraku. There was a heavy weight on his chest now, discomposing him even further.

"Because," Inuyasha growled. "I just got off the phone with Naraku not even five minutes ago! He left me a picture, and she's tied up in a warehouse and the only logical one is at the base of the woods!"

"No, Inuyasha, that doesn't make sense! Byakuya told us he's in the warehouse by the lake! We just pulled up, everyone's getting into position to swarm the mother fucker!"

"I don't have time to prove otherwise! Whether you come or not, I'm going to save Kagome!"

"Inuyasha, no! He wants you! You'll get yourself killed!"

"He has her, Koga." Inuyasha ground out a restrained sigh, answering steadily. "As long as she's safe, I don't care what happens to me."

The call ended and the wolf demon didn't hesitate in his course of action. Shoving the phone into his pocket, he ran over to where Sango and Totosai stood, going over their plan of execution at the hood of one of their black cars.

"Inuyasha called. Naraku has Kagome. He thinks they're at the warehouse on the opposite side of town; at the county line."

"What!? How!?" Sango reacted, her shocked expression trickling fear.

"I don't have those details, but there's a huge chance our little rat lied to us. Inuyasha's on his way there now. We've gotta back him up."

"We cant leave until we make sure the premises is clear." Totosai firmly stated. "Inuyasha may be wrong."

"Or Inuyasha may be taking on Naraku alone." Koga said.

"Go." The chief nodded after a very small moment. "I want you communicating the entire time. The moment we get out of this warehouse, we'll head your way."

Koga spun around, running back to his car to speed back out to the main street. The moment his tires connected with the concrete at the base of the long, winding road, he flipped on his lights and blaring sirens, racing to cross town as quickly as possible. It was still the early morning; the streets weren't too inhabited. Still, there were plenty of crossroads he needed to slow for, and each time he pressed on his brakes he felt more and more trepidation trickle over him.

Inuyasha's lungs were burning, his chest heaving, sweat dripping from his forehead and over the bridge of his nose as he looked over the weathered warehouse on the opposite side of the chainlink fence. Windows lined the higher portion of the walls, some broken and blocked off with cardboard, some filthy and impossible to even catch a glare with. He studied the few clear ones, checking for visible signs of life that may have been watching him from the second story at the end of the dirt and weed-occupied yard.

He could smell the two of them, their scents clashing obnoxiously within his olfactory system. There were traces of sweat. Plenty of it. He tried ignoring the damp smell of water that had been sitting for too long; he figured that exact odor would taint his nostrils when he noted the small puddles near Kagome in the picture. Most importantly, he did not smell a smidge of blood, fresh or old. It should have been a relief, but it didn't mean a thing with this criminal. He didn't know how long she'd been alone with Naraku, but he heard her in the background while they spoke on the phone. She was alive forty-five minutes ago. At the same time, that was forty-five minutes where anything could have happened to her.

Just as he was about to push through the unlatched gate, one hand prepared on the pistol in the holster on his hip, he heard the tread of tires nearing, the gravel along the ground grinding beneath Koga's heavy halt. Thankfully, the sirens were already silenced, and as he ripped the keys from the ignition, he'd flipped off the lights as well.

Inuyasha jogged to meet him half way, the both of them kneeling behind some shrubbery to stay as out of view as possible. Naraku knew he was coming, but he didn't need to know he brought backup. If they could keep the element of surprise, the odds would be more favorable for them.

"So, what the fuck happened?" Koga asked, keeping his voice low as he pulled the gun from his side and flipped the safety off. He was fully equipped in his bulletproof vest and windbreaker, the collar of his white shirt poking from beneath. 

"I don't know - I don't fucking know. It was the new moon last night, I fell asleep, and apparently Naraku somehow tricked her into thinking Kikyo was in trouble, so she snuck out to help by herself instead of waking me up." 

"Kikyo-"

"Yeah, I didn't tell her." He venomously interjected, wanting to cut that part of the discussion off at the knees. "It doesn't matter right now. I don't know how long they've been alone, and I don't know what he's done to her. I don't smell blood, and when he called me, I heard her in the background. That was almost an hour ago, though."

"She's alive, don't worry." Koga tried reassuring, giving him as unwavering of a look as possible. Inuyasha only spared him a small glance, ember eyes vehement with anxiety and rage, tearing his sights away to study the warehouse from the edge of the bushes.

Kagome gave another tug to the skillfully-tied knot around the support beam, her fingers struggling from the trembling she couldn't suppress. Her nails caught onto the rough rope, catching and losing grip, catching and losing grip, snagging and almost breaking. Before trying again, she whipped her head around, observing her immediate surroundings to make sure her captor wasn't coming back yet, air pressing out of her nose like she'd just finished running a lap. Still clear. She fiddled with the knot again, trying to hurry, a flutter in her chest making her feel like Onigumo could appear any second.

No.

His name was Naraku. She needed to remember that. He was a manipulative liar, and Onigumo didn't exist.

Her nails flicked off of the tight rope painfully and she clenched her tongue to the roof of her mouth to stifle the gasp she almost gave. It wasn't budging. The rope cinched around her wrists was too secure to slip through, and the more she'd tried, the more she felt the material digging into her skin. Her hands were a furious red from the many attempts of using her weight to pull away from the beam she was restrained to, the slack in the rope attached to the middle column of the wrist tie only allotting her about three feet of distance. It was no use. Despite all of her struggling and fighting to make tying her down as difficult as possible, he still prevailed by knocking her head against the pole she was held captive to, debilitating her long enough to get the rope attached. She was partially successful, though, and any feat is better than nothing right now. He'd initially tried restraining her hands behind her back, but all the flailing she did didn't allow him to.

Approaching footsteps alerted her to stop, carefully watching the direction they were coming from. The abandoned building wasn't completely empty, stacks of freight slabs and wooden crates filling multiple areas of the large room, making it impossible to see around the corner he'd disappeared behind ten minutes ago. There were small puddles of old, murky water here and there from openings in the ceiling, bits of trash littering the floor, and broken, molding wood that had crumbled from the second story. As the echoing grew louder, a sloshing sound coming from a tiny pool he must have stomped through, she tried to hold herself as casually as possible, stepping in towards the beam to allow slack in the rope. She didn't want it to appear as if she had been trying to escape; she didn't know if it would be the thing to set him off.

Naraku rounded the bend, swiping his dirty hands through his short, choppy, black hair. He was wearing a long sleeve, black thermal that raised and exposed an inch of his midriff as he lifted his arm, his ripped jeans a faded blue that bunched and disappeared beneath tightly-strapped boots. The man gave her a sealed-lipped grin the pursed just a little, cocking his head as he sauntered towards the small, upside-down crate he'd taken residence on before.

"Sorry, had to piss." He shrugged, squatting down.

Kagome could do nothing more than stare at him. Watch as he watched her. Observe as he took the long kitchen knife from the side of his boot and dragged his rough-looking thumb over the dull edge of the blade.

"Y'know," He spoke, his voice deep and smooth. "Inuyasha should be here soon, I presume. He'll be so relieved to see you're not hurt."

He stood, slowly making his way over to her, the knife glistening with the early rays of sunlight that peeked through the opened, side door. She backed up as he neared, her shoulder blade  brushing the metal beam, and his smile grew wider.

"Oh, don't be afraid, don't be afraid. You know you're just a casualty in all of this, Kagome." Naraku slid his calloused hands over the side of her face, the sweat plastered on her skin from the unwavering stress feeling sticky and moist as he caressed the apple of her cheek with his thumb. She couldn't help the shaky whines that escaped her throat as he touched her, as he gripped both cheeks between his fingers and squeezed to get her to stop turning away from him. The sturdy tape on her mouth crinkled with his aggression, pulling at her sensitive flesh. 

"I never wanted to hurt you." He whispered. "Now I do. It would be a waste not to at this point. And if I do it just as your half breed boyfriend shows up, oh, he'd cry like a little baby, wouldn't he?"

Kagome whimpered, her brows crinkling as she tried to shake her head no, to plead with him, but he kept her restrained. Naraku shushed her, a smirk pursing his lips further, the gleam in his red eyes showing thorough enjoyment from her spiking panic.

"What do you think he'd do at the sight of your blood, huh? Think he'd freeze? Go into a blind fury? Think he'd scream your name like bloody murder? Oh, the thought of it all just gets me so hot." He raised the knife to her face, grazing the smooth side of the dangerous blade over her cheekbone and temple, taunting her skin. "I want Inuyasha to die in pain - and not just physical. I don't want him just writhing in agony from a stab wound or two. I want him bleeding from the inside out. I want him begging for mercy because his mind and heart are about to explode from helplessly watching his whore get murdered." Naraku pulled back an inch or two, taking the kitchen knife and leisurely licking up the sharp edge, wincing minutely as blood seeped from the slice in his tongue. His Adams apple bobbed as he swallowed the copper liquid, his lips quickly lining scarlet red.

Dropping the knife to the ground, Naraku pinned Kagome's jaw between both hands, holding her hostage as he kissed the duct tape over her mouth, swiveling his head passionately as she gasped. She could feel moisture dripping from his mouth and down her chin. There was a churning in her stomach, a lump forming in her throat, her body was shaking, aching to get this freak away from her. She was pinned to the beam with his body, her hands stuck between them, and without much thought to how much power she may even be able to back herself up with, Kagome bucked her hips forward, shoving her fisted, tied hands into his groin.

Naraku lurched away, grasping his pelvis with a slight bend, but not completely doubled over and groaning as she had hoped. She was only able to nudge, but thankfully the area was notoriously sensitive enough to effect him even this much. Utilizing the space between them, Kagome brought her knee up and shoved her foot into his torso, pushing him away with her kick. Naraku stumbled, a groan on his breath, and the moment her foot landed on the ground she reached for the knife, stomping the sole of her canvas shoe against the blade and dragging it along the dirty cement closer to the support beam so she could bend and grab it.

The man began laughing, the sound low like a chuckle and growing to a malevolent octave. "Uh, oh! Watch out! Kagome's got the knife! Oh no!" He gibed.

Kagome gripped the handle as tightly as she could, the rope on her wrists making the hold slightly awkward. She tried not to let that show though, breathing heavily as she held the blade out before her.

"That's fine. Keep it. I've got others." Naraku shrugged carelessly, sauntering toward her. "It's always fun watching women try to put up a fight, and I can tell you're as plucky as they come." Kagome tensed incredibly as he continued his path, backing up. Even though she was the one with the weapon, she knew how easy it would be for a demon to overpower her. He smiled, the cracks of his straight teeth stained with blood, the crimson liquid dribbling down his chin and to his neck. "You're gonna die here, Kagome. You can fight all you want, but you're still gonna die."

She whimpered, powerful shudders racking her body and she gripped the knife even tighter to make sure she wouldn't drop it, tears stinging her eyes as they quickly poured down her cheeks.

"In fact, the fun should be starting soon. Your puppy should be able to smell my blood from far off. I wonder if he smells it now. I wonder if he can differentiate whose blood is whose. Can he tell it's mine, or will he just smell the copper in the air and assume it's yours? Either way, I sense something's coming." Naraku sang, his face lighting up as he stopped just before the tip of Kagome's blade. She had to fight off the reaction to look around for whatever he spoke of, forcing herself to keep her burning eyes glued to the criminal.

"Come on, what are you waiting for? You could literally end it all right now." He dragged his feet forward two inches, pressing his sternum to the sharp point. Kagome winced for him, stepping back against the beam only to have him follow, intimidatingly standing with his arms spread out, his red-painted grin beaming sadistically. "You could leave here with Inuyasha the second he arrives. Inuyasha wouldn't have to endure any pain. All you've gotta do is stick me. Come on. Just push it in. You could end this, you have the power. Do it, Kagome. Come on! Come on! Do it! Stab me! You know you want to! If you don't, I'll kill Inuyasha and it'll be your fault because you had the fucking opportunity to stop me! How could you do that to him!? You won't even try to save his life! Stab me! Stab me, Kagome! Do it! Stab me!"

Kagome sobbed, choking slightly on the muffled sound, terrified of the manic man before her, his red eyes wide and bloodshot. Spittle was dribbling from the plush of his bottom lip. He was scowling like he was suddenly furious, but there was also a hint of humor flushing through, curving his mouth upward.

"See that's the thing." Naraku murmured menacingly. "You think the knife, itself, is going to protect you. No, baby girl. You need to have the volition to back it up."

He yanked at the rope that hung from her wrists, taking Kagome by surprise by pulling her hands down and to the side, the kitchen knife falling from her fingers and clattering against the floor.

Koga crouched low, each step mindful and as silent as possible as he rounded the corner away from Inuyasha who'd planned to enter through the front, the gravel grinding beneath his feet. He kept his gun aimed at the floor, rushing to the rusted door he could see toward the end of the long wall. As he approached, small, pained gasps met his ears, accompanied by a man's vehement shouting. The orders were twisted, growing louder and more devilish before completely dying off, a clank echoing throughout the warehouse. Koga kneeled just before the opening, leaning to side-glance through the opened door.

Kagome was held at an angle by the ties around her wrists, her eyes pinched nearly shut from the jarring look of fear crinkling her face, thick tape over her mouth, a dark red covering the silver that had dripped to the curve of her chin. A man slowly slid his fingers through her hair, curling and snagging the dark locks to pull her head back, curving his body to whisper in her ear. Koga couldn't hear it, but the drowned sob from Kagome told him everything he needed to know. 

"Hey! Get your fucking hands off her! Let her go!" Inuyasha's voice bellowed through the warehouse, his gun pointed ahead of him. Naraku smiled, slowly turning his head to face him, his hand still wound in Kagome's raven hair. The whimper that left her throat at the sight of him was heartbreaking, her current state wringing his insides agonizingly. He desperately wanted to shush her, to tell her everything would be alright, but he could only spare her brief glances for the moment. Until Naraku was taken care of, he needed his undivided attention on him. He couldn't let his guard down. 

"Well, it's about time you got here. I almost thought it would just be Kagome and I having all the fun."

"She's not a part of this." Inuyasha seethed.

"You know that's not true."

"Let her go. I'll stay. You've got me all to yourself."

"Her screams are much more rewarding than yours." 

"No, Naraku! This isn't how it's gonna go down!"

"Oh, and you're gonna tell me how it is? I don't think you're the one with the power here. You may have a gun, but I've got the girl."

"Come on, Naraku, just give her to me. You set her free, I won't even fight back." Kagome made a gurgling sound of protest through the duct tape. "You can kill me! You can get your revenge! Just give her to me first!"

"You want her?" Naraku chuckled. Unfurling his fingers, he released the rope and her hair taking a large step to the side. "Go on, Kagome. Be free. Run to Inuyasha! Go on, girl!" He bated, taunting the both of them with her captivity. 

Still, she struggled to wiggle her way free of her restraints, desperate to get away, to cross the large room and clutch onto Inuyasha for dear life. Naraku's laughter bounced off the walls boisterously, infuriating her, and if looks could kill she knew the scowl on her face would have burned him alive. A thunderous growl ripped the air, and she could practically hear Inuyasha's grip tighten dangerously over the trigger.

Naraku shrugged in an oh well manner, the blood on his jaw and neck a darker shade than before as it noticeably dried. Inuyasha could only hope Kagome had done that to him. As he held an unfaltering grip on his pistol, he realized he had a clear shot. He could take Naraku out where he stood, but his conscience riddled him. He didn't have the proper provocation to justify killing him, though he really, really fucking wanted to. He could wound him, but even that was a stretch. Lashing out, putting a bullet through him could cost his badge and a lot more trauma on Kagome's behalf. She didn't need to see that. Looking at her now, the stiffness of her muscles, the small quakes that inadvertently racked her body, the fading bruise on her cheek that was accentuated by her paled skin, the sweat that caused her bangs to wave and stick to her forehead, she'd been through enough. His one priority was to get her out as unscathed as possible. He'd handle whatever Naraku had to throw at him after he saw to her safety.

"We don't need to play these games, Naraku. You're upset about what happened all those years ago, so-"

"Nine years ago, to be exact! Happy anniversary, sweetie." Naraku winked.

Inuyasha paused, allowing his words to sink. He couldn't imagine what was so significant about the ninth year, but he could understand that Naraku had planned for everything to fall on this day. He gave a feeble nod of acknowledgment. "You're upset about what happened nine years ago."

"Upset would be a bit of an overstatement, don't you think?"

"An overstatement?" Inuyasha asked, muddled. "Well, how about you tell me what's going through your head. Let's start with that, okay?" He kept his tone as level as possible, his ember eyes glued to the seemingly amused man before him.

"Was that word too big for you, half breed? I'm not mad." Naraku claimed. "I don't care that I was found out, I don't care that I was arrested, I don't care that I was sentenced to life in an insane asylum, I - simply - don’t - care. You want to know why I've been targeting you and your girlfriend? It's because of the arrogance you portrayed during my interrogation. You had this air about you that spoke volumes of how you felt you could never be beat. You were so young. Fresh to the field, right? It was pretty evident that you were the rookie in your department, and I thought you were merely overcompensating so it wouldn't bleed into our one-on-one time. Then, a few hours in I realized that was just a flaw in your personality. You're cocky, Inuyasha. You carried yourself like you could never be destroyed. And I wanted to be the one to destroy you. 

The one thing I could never get out of my mind, though, was the moment you lot finally got the warrant to search mom and pop's cabin. I saw it. In your eyes. There was a brief glimpse of fear, and god, I've been dying to see it again ever since! What were you so afraid of? Was it because deep down you knew Hakudoshi was dead?"

"Don't say his name!"

"Was it because you knew a little boy had been killed and you failed to stop it?"

"Naraku!"

"You didn't want to admit it to yourself, but the moment they gave you the green light to go that's when you knew you had to face the music! You were about to see little Hakudoshi rotting in the ground!"

"Shut the fuck up, you disgusting piece of shit!"

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Inuyasha. You failed before you even tried." Naraku shrugged again, apathetic to the trembling of the half demon's rage. "I've never left a victim's side before they were dead, and you caught me on the edge of the woods on my way out. Much like this place.”

Inuyasha felt a thick mass build in the center of his throat, seeing red, fighting his finger's muscles to squeeze the fucking trigger and end everything now. As the escaped criminal swiveled his head to face Kagome, Inuyasha damn near lost control, clenching the breath in his lungs as a dangerous rumble reverberated from his chest.

"I bet you're wondering how I could be so cruel, aren't you?"

"Don't fucking talk to her!"

Kagome flinched, worried, brown eyes flickering back and forth between Naraku and him.

"See, to me, it isn't about cruelty. I thought if I watched the life drain from a person's eyes, I'd eventually feel something. Over and over, I tried. And over and over, I failed to feel an ounce of pity. I will admit, though, there was a good amount of exhilaration." Naraku knelt down reaching for the knife by his feet and Inuyasha went hot, flexing his hands over the grip as his gun followed his every move.

"NARAKU, STOP!"

"Make me." He smiled, curling his fingers around the black handle.

A shot was fired, ringing loudly in the abandoned building and paining Inuyasha's ears, the sharp sound of a ricochet bullet almost drowning out the startled shriek from Kagome.

"Drop it!" Koga ordered, running in from the right-side door. "Right now, drop it!"

Naraku had covered himself in reaction to the gunshot, the knife in a white-knuckle grip over his head. He slowly unsheathed himself, his jaw tensed and eyes closed in agitation as he rose to a standing.

"I was wondering when you'd finally crawl out from your hiding spot." He drawled.

"Drop the fucking knife." Koga reiterated, blue eyes slanted in determination. Slowly, steadily, he was side-stepping his way to Kagome.

"Or what? The K9 unit will play good cop - bad cop with me?"

"Actually, we're more notorious for bad cop - bad cop." Koga cocked a brow, his gun firmly aimed at the bold man. "We don't really have the patience for mentally breaking scum when we’re perfectly capable of physically doing it."

Kagome looked away from the scene before her, brown eyes colliding with vivacious ember. They were so close, he was a small sprint away, yet she felt like they could have been separated by several locked rooms in between. She watched his eyes flick back toward Naraku, making sure his attention was still focused on the wolf demon, then switch back to her. He parted his lips, silently mouthing two words, but she didn't comprehend, furrowing her brows and shaking her head in question. Once more, he made sure he was clear, then tried again, mouthing "Back up," a little slower than before.

This time, it was her that made sure Naraku wasn't paying attention. She watched as his terrifying eyes challenged Inuyasha's partner, watched as he loosely wobbled the kitchen blade in between his fingers. Carefully, she took one step away. When his red irises didn't land on her, she took another. One more had her at her rope's length.

"Naraku, if you think I won't pull this trigger right now you're fucking wrong." Koga's deep voice boomed. Naraku swiveled his head back and forth in mockery, trying to irate the wolf, but he held firm. It wasn't something he wasn't used to from perps. "Drop the knife. Don't give me a reason. Your brother doesn’t want anything to happen to you. Byakuya didn’t want a deal on his sentence for talking, the only deal he wanted was assurance that you would live. He wants another chance for you to get healthy, but that also means you’ve gotta work with us.”

“No, it doesn’t.” Naraku continued to play with the blade. “None of that sounds like it’s any of my business.”

“He wants a better life for you.”

“Then he should have paid for a hotel instead of hiding me in a warehouse.”

“He’s fighting for you, Naraku.”

“I didn’t ask him to. I’m not interested in his pitiful plea bargain, and I’m definitely not interested in anyone’s mercy. Fuck you guys.” He laughed. 

“That’s fine, that’s your prerogative, but here’s the thing: you’ve got two loaded guns aimed at your head. If you take a step in any direction with that weapon in your hand, we’re provoked to shoot. If you throw the knife, we’re provoked to shoot. If you even look like you’re about to do something stupid, we are provoked to shoot.”

There was consideration on Naraku’s face as he pondered, his red eyes bouncing over to Kagome, his grin wicked and stained. Another growl from Inuyasha ripped though the air, a clear warning to look away from her, but the demonic sound went ignored. There was a flinch in her expression as he stared, the hollow of her throat emphasized as she sucked in and held her breath.

“Looks like plans have changed, sweetie. That’s okay, though. I’ve already left my mark on you, haven’t I? You’re never gonna forget me.”

“Stop talking to her!” Inuyasha shouted viciously.

The kitchen knife fell from Naraku’s fingers, bouncing against the floor, and he took a single step toward her, both Koga and Inuyasha stiffening incredibly. Koga matched his step, only a few feet separating him from sheathing Kagome behind his back. Her glare didn’t shift away from the criminal, though. She held her venom toward the man unwaveringly, her chin raising indignantly at his statement.

“Just remember, Kagome,” He paused, licking his lips. “You could have saved him. Whatever happens to Inuyasha is entirely your fault.”

Her nose crinkled angrily, but she couldn’t hang onto it. There was no stopping her eyes from traveling over to the half demon in the background, his scowl deadly until he met her concerned gaze. Instantly, a remorseful look washed over him. Inuyasha shook his head, his silver ponytail hardly swaying with the subtle movement, and she could tell he just wanted to soothe her; his way of protecting her the best he could at a moment like this. This was her fault, though. She easily fell for Naraku’s ploy. She broke Inuyasha’s trust and basically trotted all over the dedicated security he’d provided. She snuck out in the middle of the night and got them all stuck in this dangerous scenario. If anything happened to Inuyasha, she was to blame.

Maybe nothing would happen, though. Maybe he was all talk. He was in a mental asylum, so he wasn’t all there in the head, right? From her angle, it seemed like he was cornered. Koga was doing a really good job at talking him down, he’d even dropped his knife. Maybe Naraku didn’t comprehend things as clearly. She couldn’t remember if Inuyasha told her what degree of instability he harbored, so it was hard to decipher what could have potentially been going through Naraku’s head as he spoke.

Her abductor launched and she hardly had time to react, his hand snagging and yanking the tail of her rope as he ran passed laughing. Kagome fell to the floor with a choking gasp, her rib cage slamming against the beam with his strength and direction, and before she could look up or gather herself, she felt a body hovering over hers. Koga had crouched low, his hands snaking around her waist to help her sit up, and as she opened her eyes, she saw a blurred Inuyasha sprint passed them. Koga shouted a boisterous demand for Inuyasha to stop, but by the heavy curse lingering on his breath, she knew it went neglected. Everything was happening so fast, and as she realized Inuyasha was chasing after Naraku alone, an obnoxious alarm started blaring in her head. She stammered to her feet, her dirty, white shirt slightly clinging to her side from the damp floor she’d collided with.

Koga shoved his gun into the holster on his hip and snatched the discarded kitchen knife from the floor as Kagome pulled back on her ties, and he worked to cut through the tail. As soon as the rope was cut free from the beam, she stumbled backward, catching herself and immediately charging after Inuyasha. Koga dropped the knife and hooked his arm around her lower abdomen, lifting her off the ground in her haste and carrying her over to the cover of the wall of nearby, stacked crates. She was grunting and shouting in protest, squirming in his hold, her words incomprehensible and muffled.

“What the - what the hell are you doing!?”

Kagome pushed him back, her fingernails flicking at the edge of the duct tape on her mouth, but they were too shaky to get an actual grip. Koga took over and grabbed the opposite end, yanking the thick, stained tape right off her face, a furiously red rectangle left in its wake.

“We have to go after Inuyasha! Naraku’s gonna try to kill him!”

“Hang on, stop moving!” Koga barked, fiddling with the knot of her wrist cinch. “I have to get you outside and I need to call for backup first!”

“Call for backup NOW!” Kagome demanded, deep brown eyes piercing him threateningly. Koga dropped her still-restrained wrists, using his body to shield hers as he heard Naraku shouting incoherently from the second story on the other side of the large building. Kagome started struggling with him again, trying to free herself from his cover so she could run after them, practically growling with her vehemency. 

“Look, I’ll call for backup now but then I still have to get you outside! Stop fighting me! The sooner I get you safe, the sooner I can go help Inuyasha!”

That last statement struck her still, and the wolf demon didn’t waste time in ripping his walkie from clip on the back of his pants, squeezing the button on the side as he called his team to their location for immediate assistance. As soon as the call was made, he gripped the center of the cinch, pulling her to run out of the building with him. His car was all the way out on the street, and he didn’t feel comfortable running all the way off the premises to lock her in the back seat and racing all the way back. Anything could happen in that time, and the sooner he got back inside to help, the better. He made a sharp left to the very back of the building toward a large, broken shed sitting just before the fence separating the woodlands from the grounds. The shrubbery was overgrown and intruding on the territory, tucking the backside of the shed in growth and vines. Koga spun her in front of him from behind, forcefully bending her knees to sit in the dense protection. He kneeled in front of her doing a once over, something he hadn’t been able to do just yet.

“You okay?” He asked huskily, brows arched in concern. There was a bruising scarlet peeking from beneath her bangs just over her left eyebrow, and he gently pushed her hair out of the way to check the thick bump on her forehead to make sure it was nothing worse. Kagome nodded with a breathy “yeah,” and Koga asked if she was sure for reassurance purposes, making sure she wasn't bleeding anywhere. When she nodded again, he sighed out, gently grabbing her by the jaw to make sure he had her undivided attention. “Then for the love of god, Kagome, stay here!”

Koga ran off, his gun now gripped between both hands as his speedy steps along the gravel disappeared. 

Kagome tucked herself further behind the shed, her heart pounding rapidly. Her thoughts kept shifting to the horrible and potential what if's of the situation as she desperately tried to listen to what was taking place inside the building, her ears filled with nothing but the rustle of the trees' branches just feet away. Opting to busy herself, Kagome wriggled her wrists in the confinements of their wraps, the flesh beneath raw and irritated from her consistent tugging, pulling, and twisting to break free for hours now. The knot looked tighter than ever, and Kagome huffed in aggravation, figuring she'd been the one to make matters worse with her struggling. Her wrists were stuck being bound for now, until someone could cut her free.

Sitting there in hiding was more torturous than being tied to the beam. As her breathing came together, she peeked from the corner, looking back for some semblance of awareness. There was a gelatinous sensation in the depths of her chest, dense, spreading, the clouds overhead providing an ominous darkness on the already-dingy warehouse while her brown eyes sought for any signs of the three men. The wait continued, increasing the boiling uneasiness Kagome stewed in, and she searched harder, poking her upper body out further. In her peripherals, the subtle gleam of silver caught her attention, a four-foot rod sticking out from the weeds along the edge of the shed. There was a moment of hesitation, her sights never leaving the metal in case it would suddenly vanish in thin air.

Crawling out on her knees from the sheathing Koga had placed her in, she picked up the rod, working on the adjustment of her awkward grip to hold it as solidly as possible, opting to curl her right fingers tight around the dirty metal and support that grasp with her left hand. With a deep, determined breath, Kagome rose to her feet and ran across the gravel space, heading for the door she and Koga had exited from.

Inuyasha had followed after the crazed man as swiftly as he could, but managed to lose sight of him in the makeshift maze of palettes, crates, and other large, abandoned, warehouse objects. Even on the second story it was hard to get around. This building wasn't left like this; he'd been here before during an undercover stunt. This was just evidence of the incredible amount of free time Naraku had had since August.

He held his gun at the ready, leading his way with it as he listened closely and curved around corners. The entire place was swarming in Naraku's putrid scent, making it impossible to pinpoint his location that way. The man was still, he had to be. Inuyasha couldn't pick up any clatter from shoes hitting the wood beneath their feet, whether walking or running. Nothing. No raspy breathing, no laughter, no noises whatsoever other than the distracting wind from outside and his own, careful footsteps along the path. As he nudged through a particularly narrow route, there was a close creak, but before he could prepare, he was smacked in the jaw with a damp slab of wood.

"So, that girlfriend of yours," Naraku began, standing taller than him as Inuyasha stumbled backward, clutching his chin. "Not the brightest crayon in the box."

"Don't fucking talk about her!" He growled.

"She leaves the safety of your nest for a girl you chose over her at one point - that was the closest I'd ever come to feeling sympathy for a person, because ouch. - gets herself kidnapped, and when she had the opportunity to do something to help the situation, she didn't. She froze. Even better, she cried."

Inuyasha said nothing, taking aim as Naraku sped at him. He swung the board and Inuyasha shot a split second later, the bullet missing as the gun was flung from his hand, slid along the wood, and slipped beneath the railing, falling to the first floor.

"Whoops." The criminal grinned.

The half demon swung his fist, his hook effectively dodged by Naraku's nimble feet. Naraku dropped the board and clutched the tee shirt at his chest, swinging him around, surprising Inuyasha with his strength as he was slammed against the wall.

"What's going on, big MMA fighter? I thought you could spar! Or are you just stalling so I'll give you every little detail of what I did to your precious Kagome?"

Inuyasha flung his forehead forward, colliding with Naraku's and forcing him to stumble backward. The man recovered quickly, shaking his head and running his hands through his hair to smooth out the short, messy locks.

"All you had to do was ask."

"Shut the fuck up!"

"We kissed. It was pretty magical." He shrugged, reaching behind and yanking a pocketknife clip from his belt. He flicked it open, twirling the small, sharp weapon skillfully in his fingers. "Oh, god, and that tape I put on her mouth was an absolute necessity. She wouldn't stop screaming for you! Inuyasha! Inuyasha! Save me, Inuyasha! Inuyashaaaaa!"

He knew that Naraku was just trying to get under his skin, but god fucking damn it, it was working. He clenched his fists tight, his claws pinching into his flesh, and ground his teeth together, trying not to give the nut case the reaction he was looking for.

"I'll admit, I'm a little upset I didn't get to go through with my original plan. I had this whole thing ready to go where you were going to watch me kill her. You wouldn't be so smug and arrogant then, would you, Inuyasha? That's okay, though. I did enough damage to her to last a lifetime, and her poor, little puppy won't be able to protect her from the scars and nightmares. That, I can assure you."

"What, you think you're gonna kill me?"

"It's everything I've been dreaming of." Naraku smiled, still twirling his pocketknife.

"Keep dreaming. It ain’t happening."

The manic man lunged at Inuyasha, swinging his knife back and forth in an attempt to slash him, and the half demon sped backward. His back collided with a wall of stacked palettes and he knew he had one chance to get this right. Naraku went to stab him, and Inuyasha tried to clasp his wrist to nudge it in the opposite direction, his palm landing higher than intended and clutching onto part of Naraku's fingers along with the blade. At this point, with the amount of adrenalin coursing through his system, he hardly felt the skin slice at the heel of his hand, only understanding he was bleeding through the sharp tinge of copper wafting through his nostrils.

Sliding down and incorporating his freehand, Inuyasha struck the inside of Naraku's wrist outward with furious pressure while simultaneously smacking the side of the blade inward, the pocketknife flying from the criminal's grip and clinking to the floor. Immediately following, Inuyasha threw the back of his fist into Naraku's face, clipping his nose. Naraku's head flew back with the force, his footing following, and Inuyasha seized the opportunity, angled himself, and struck him hard with a sidekick to the ribcage. 

He staggered backward, clutching his abdomen with heavy breaths, dangerous red eyes blaring at the half demon. With a snarl, he lunged again, swinging his fists, and each blow was deflected by Inuyasha's swift reflexes, palms effectively shoving Naraku’s forearms aside while stepping for proper angling. As Naraku's relentless attacks were thwarted, Inuyasha punched him in the jaw, clutching onto Naraku's upper arm to keep him in place and hooking his forearm inward, smacking his elbow to his opponents cheekbone. He released Naraku's arm but kept a grip on his sleeve to allow motion, swinging his fist into Naraku's sternum to get him to double over, then slamming his elbow into his upper back. He fell to the floor, his laughter coming out wheezy and slow.

Inuyasha crouched, snagging the back of Naraku's shirt as the man began to pick himself up, lifting him to his feet and slamming him against the railing. He folded backward slightly, the top of the rail only reaching his mid back. 

"What are you gonna do, Inuyasha?" Naraku asked breathlessly, blood trickling from his right nostril. The stained and crusted smile on his face was disgusting, taunting, and challenging. "You gonna kill me?"

"No." The half demon replied, a growl on his tongue. "As great as that sounds, I'd much rather watch you rot away in the asylum."

"Wrong answer." He laughed.

"Don't act cocky, Naraku. There's no fucking way you're getting away from me."

"Wrong again." Naraku rocked against the railing, bucking his hips harder each time until the rotting wood the rails were screwed into cracked and began to crumble. The guard fell back, taking huge chunks of the flooring with it, causing Inuyasha to instinctually stumble backwards, a hissed "shit" heavy on his breath. As he looked up from the wood beneath his feet, Naraku was gone. Rushing forward to the edge, Inuyasha expected to see his opponent's body laying on the ground level, broken and seeping away life, but all he saw was the crumbled wood and broken, rusted rail.

"Mother fucker!" Inuyasha shouted, flailing his arms at his side in exasperation. He gave an exaggerated huff, quickly wiping the leaking blood from his palm on his jeans and leaning down to retrieve the pistol in his boot before jumping from the second story to land on the top of a low wall of nearly-unstable crates, bringing him to wobble slightly to keep upright. From there, supporting his leap by bracing his hand on the edge of the box, Inuyasha's feet met with the cement flooring, pistol immediately at the ready.

There was an incoming shuffling of feet from a large pathway behind him, and he swung around, gun aimed at a fully prepared wolf demon.

"Fuck!" He growled. "Where's Kagome?" Inuyasha quickly asked, lowering his weapon.

"She's safe, don't worry about it. Where's Naraku?" Koga aimed his pistol to the floor, blue eyes studying the line of blood that had escaped the corner of Inuyasha's mouth.

"No fucking clue. He slipped away from me."

"I heard a gunshot-"

"I missed."

He gave a curt nod, looking around at the spacious areas between man-made walls of objects. Inuyasha trudged forward toward the far opening and Koga took up the rear, his head swerving left and right for full awareness. As they came through to an empty corner, they paused in the center, Inuyasha's aggravation notably spiking.

"Come on, Naraku!" He boomed, his voice bouncing off the walls. "No more games! You started this, now lets fucking end it! Right now!"

Silence.

A moment later, Inuyasha and Koga were moving again, Koga once more trailing behind. As they approached a very wide area that he would have guessed was dead center of the warehouse, a dangerous feeling puddled in the pit of Koga's stomach. They were being watched. He couldn't pinpoint which direction the sensation was flooding from, lingering in place as he glanced around the dingy area, the space sparsely illuminated thanks to the boards covering the windows above them and the dark clouds hanging overhead. He heard the scuffle of Inuyasha's boots proceeded further. The curse in his growl. And then he heard fast-paced running coming right at him.

Inuyasha spun around as a loud commotion ensued behind him, Koga grunting as Naraku worked to overpower him. The half demon's gun was poorly aimed, shifting back and forth for a good shot as Naraku pinned Koga face down, his knee in the wolf demon's back, crouching low and squeezing the grip of the gun right from Koga's struggling hand.

"As you wish, puppy dog." He chuckled, pressing the muzzle to Koga's temple. The snarl on his partner's face was ferocious, and as he bared his fangs, Naraku smacked him in the same spot with the butt of the Glock. "Let's end this. Go ahead and shoot. You've got one chance."

Inuyasha scowled, his hands giving a feeble tremble from the insurmountable pressure that thickened the air. His gun twitched left and right, up and down, following Naraku's movements but never spot on as he kept attached to Koga's body. Inuyasha wasn't close enough to have a clear position on him. They were at an angle at the other side of their large space, and when Inuyasha tried to take a subtle step forward to up his advantage, Naraku cocked a sneer and pulled on the tight knot of Koga's ponytail to lead him to stand on his knees, shielding himself behind the broad torso of the wolf demon, the gun only leaving the side of his head to reposition just behind the lobe of his ear.

"Let him go, Naraku!"

"The only way I'll do that is if I'm dead." He said. "Or he's dead. Whichever comes first."

"Take the shot, Inuyasha!" Koga ordered, blue eyes piercing him as sharp as any bullet. 

"Yeah! Take the shot, Inuyasha!"

"You can shoot him, you can shoot me, but there's no way you're getting out of here alive!"

"Don't fucking talk! Just shoot him!"

"Why, because the backup your buddy called for five minutes ago is here?" He remarked sarcastically.

"Any minute now."

"Inuyasha!"

"I could kill Koga now, kill you a split second later, and then I can go grab Kagome who's conveniently been hidden behind the shed out back and slash her throat all before the SWAT team shows up. And you probably thought you were being so slick, huh Moon Moon?" Naraku clutched the front of Koga's jaw with the hand that once held his long, brown hair, bringing his partner to shake his head in resistance against his hold. "Man the power of sight is incredible! You know there are a few windows here, right?"

Inuyasha's brow twitched as he seethed anger, a demonic need to rip this fucker to shreds just for threatening Koga and Kagome shaking him to the core. His fingers curled tighter around the grip of his gun, focusing with all that he had to get a clear shot.

"Don't think about it, just shoot him! Shoot him!"

"Shoot me."

"Inuyasha!"

"Shoot me."

"I swear to fucking god, Naraku, let him go!"

"What's the matter, Inuyasha? Can't pull the trigger? Wont save your partner? You’re not even gonna try?"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

"How many times has he saved you? Come on, Inuyasha! Be the hero you've worked so hard to become! Where's your pride!?"

"Inuyasha, it's okay." Koga's expression had calmed considerably, his voice lowering to just above a whisper. He was trying to level with him, trying to tell him it was alright to miss. Though his face lacked any signs of nervousness, his wavering tone failed him.

"Shut up, you stupid wolf."

"Inuyasha." He tried again, steadier.

His finger flexed against the trigger, still not confident in his aim. His heart pounded painfully hard, a dense weight sinking in his abdomen. If he misses, Koga dies. If he misses, Naraku pulls his own trigger. A thick mass in his throat made it difficult to swallow, and Inuyasha could feel himself losing grip on the situation. What the fuck was he supposed to do? He could try to stall until their backup actually showed. If he could succeed in that, if he could manipulate Naraku just as well as he's manipulated them all, there was a chance he wouldn't have to risk Koga's life at all. As he parted his lips to speak, to ask a question, Naraku beat him to the punch, his deep voice causing Inuyasha's to hitch in the back of his mouth.

“Out of time. If you wont take your shot, I will." Naraku re-aimed his pistol and pulled the trigger, the loud bang echoing throughout the building.

Inuyasha staggered backward, collapsing to the ground.

Kagome instantly felt something snap inside of her, running out from her concealed spot with rage and terror etched into the lines on her face, whacking Naraku in the shoulders and neck with her metal rod. Both he and Koga fell forward, and Kagome swung again as hard as she could, hitting Naraku in the center of his back. He wheezed, and without thinking, she threw aside the rod, jumping for the gun in his hand. She heard her name being shouted multiple times, but it was muffled by the grunts and curses both she and her opponent omitted. With a jerk in the opposite direction, she got the gun from his grasp, her tied hands useless in supporting her body as she tried to scramble away belly down, but Naraku was now on top of her, his large, rough hands fighting for her to release the weapon. Unintentionally, Kagome squeezed, the gunshot and kickback from the pistol startling a yelp from her, but working in halting Naraku's attack for the smallest moment.

He clutched her hair and shoulder and spun her over, pinning her with bruising force and straddling her hips, his hands wrestling to grab the Glock from her, struggling against her never-ceasing wriggle to keep her hands above her head and away from him. Purposefully this time, she squeezed the trigger again, using the moment he flinched to aim the gun at his mouth.

"Get off of me!" Kagome slowly commanded, her tone lethal. Her brown eyes were slanted deadly, but her trembling limbs betrayed her. The room was silent, or maybe her ears were working against her as well, a thumping sound riddling the sense. It wasn't until he gave his infamously taunting and overdone chuckle that she knew it was all in her head.

He crawled backward, and she tensed her core considerably to follow him, having to incorporate her elbow along the floor as she sat up tall. As soon as her legs were beneath her, Kagome rose to a stand, shakily ordering him to stay on his knees as her aim stayed glued to his mouth.

Naraku looked at the barrel, then to her, the curve finally leaving his thin lips to lay flat.

“How valiant of you, Kagome.”

“Don’t talk!” She demanded breathlessly, shaking her head, wild strands of dark hair falling in front of her shoulders and over her cheeks.

"Or else what? You'll shoot? You couldn't even hold the knife straight before, what makes you think you can kill me now?"

"Shut up!"

"You don't have the guts. You're nothing but a damsel in distress."

"Am I?" Kagome asked, taking a small step in and raising the Glock to the bridge of his bloody nose, the muzzle just inches from his sweaty skin.

Naraku closed his mouth, all traces of amusement completely vanished.

Inuyasha could see it, the glazing of her eyes, the paleness settling into the cheeks he’d just witnessed were red, the hollow of her throat as she struggled to take in actual breaths. Tears brimmed at her bottom lids but all other expression was disappearing from view. Her sights were set on Naraku, hardly blinking. She was moving past the point of rational thought. She was zoning.

Glancing to the side, Inuyasha noticed Koga watched the scene play as well, his lips parted and curved into a frown of concern. Holding that weapon, feeling the crushing weight of fear, her mind racing through horrible scenarios and which one was more likely to take place, rob her heart, break her spirit, he'd seen it before. Her fight or flight had completely taken over. It was telling her she wasn't safe, telling her she had no other choice. A wall was forming around her, one that would become thicker and thicker, almost impenetrable, the more seconds ticked by.

And Inuyasha could only hope he could get through that defense.

“Kagome.” He started gently, leaning on his good arm to sit himself up completely.

Koga slowly rose to his feet, moving with absolute control, blue eyes set on the girl just feet away. Any fast movements could startle her, could cause her to do something she didn't want to do. He made sure to stay as silent as possible, allowing Inuyasha to be the voice of reason she needed.

“Kagome, it’s okay now.”

Their gazes never broke, and Inuyasha could tell Naraku's red irises were holding her captive with their silent and menacing threats. 

“I need you to put the gun down, baby.” He aimed his own pistol at Naraku in a way to take over, keeping his voice as soothing as his gruff tone allowed.

She shook her head as her face contorted, tears streaming down her cheeks while a feeble whimper escaped her lips. She wanted Inuyasha to keep talking, she wanted the constant reminder that Naraku hadn’t succeeded in killing him, thinking if he stopped coaxing her she’d turn and find he was actually dead on the floor and it was nothing more than her mind playing evil tricks on her. At the same time, she was too afraid to comply.

“Come on, put it down. You don’t need it.”

A minor twitch. Still no response.

"Hey, I need you to listen, Kagome. Everything's fine now, trust me. Put the gun down."

“I can’t.” She cried, her shoulders heaving with her deep gasps for air.

He tried not to let out his sigh of relief, clenching it in his throat. It was obviously too soon to celebrate, but he was reaching her. Thank god, he was reaching her.

“Yes, you can. Kagome. Look at me, baby.”

“No, I can’t!” She cried harder, voice breaking. “He’s gonna do something!”

“I promise you, he won’t. I’ve got a clear shot - if he moves, he’s dead. Now look at me.”

Kagome hesitated, scared he was wrong.

“Look at me.”

Finally, she shifted her gaze, her head unsteadily following her eyes as she fought against her instincts. As soon as she saw him, she nearly doubled over from the crushing sobs that left her lungs. His charcoal tee clung to his chest and shoulder, the large area soaked and deep in shade, blood beginning to drip down his left arm. He was sitting upright, his gun aimed at Naraku, ember eyes flickering back and forth from the criminal to her. He was alive. He was hurt, but he was alive.

Inuyasha smiled, finally letting out that alleviating huff. "That's my girl."

"You're okay?" She whimpered, still holding her aim.

"I'm fine." He said reassuringly. "Go ahead and put the gun down now, okay?"

"But-"

"Do you trust me?"

Kagome nodded, a faint mhm on her breath.

"Good. Then you know for a fact that I won't let anything happen."

Kagome tried to gather herself, forcing her lungs to take deeper, more level inhales. Turning her head, she gazed back down at Naraku, her hands trembling along the grip. The man on his knees had deadpanned, his eyes locked on her from just above the barrel. She gave a small nod in acknowledgment to her half demon's statement, exhaling from her mouth and loosening her fingers. From her right, a large hand smoothed over the back of her own, slowly, gently reaching for the gun, a voice whispering as she flinched, "It's just me, it's just me." Kagome allowed Inuyasha's partner to take the pistol with no resistance, his arm snaking around her back to tuck her into his chest as he took his own aim on Naraku. His thumb grazed her shoulder where he clutched her firmly, doing his best to soothe her anxiety down. The vest he wore was thick and scratchy, but not uncomfortable, his inhales bringing the material to rub against her curled-in forearms and cheek and causing a physical sensation that helped bring Kagome back to the present.

She relaxed in his arms, shifting to look over her shoulder at Inuyasha. He held his pistol steady, ember eyes alight as his heavy breaths brought his body to sag in what seemed like relief. 

Shuffling feet reached their ears, a woman calling Koga's name, and he bellowed, "We're here!" in response. "We have an officer down! Call a medic!"

More commotion broke through as it sounded like multiple people were on the way to them, Sango leading the pack as she curved through the opening in the makeshift wall with her Glock aimed at the floor. She took in the scene, her brown eyes wide from shock, scouring the area with a shake of her head as she immediately ran to Inuyasha's side. Hojo, who was right behind her, pulled a pair of handcuffs from his backside, kneeling down to secure Naraku's wrists behind his back, Koga never lowering his pistol until he heard the tight clicks of both cuffs locking into place.

It was finally over.

Sango pressed both palms to Inuyasha's wound, glaring at him as he huffed and tried to push her off so he could stand.

"Stop! You know better!" She barked, applying additional pressure to the wound until he winced and sat back; the only way she knew to get him to comply.

Inuyasha rolled his head to the side, glancing over at the girl in Koga's arms. She watched him, worry creasing her brow and creating the pout on her lips. The wolf demon went to guide her away, out of the warehouse she'd been held captive in for too long, but she resisted, recoiling to leave Koga's hold to join Inuyasha on the cold floor. His partner didn't lose his grip, and Inuyasha's sensitive ears caught his low tone trying to persuade her away, using the word "temporary" multiple times.

Though she didn't fight Koga, knowing she needed to listen to him right now and let everyone do their jobs, her deep, brown eyes never left her half demon. As each step took her further away from him, she felt scared, twisting her body to keep sight of him. Inuyasha cocked a small smile at her, and she knew he was covering his discomfort.

Then he spoke, and though she'd just heard it not even a minute ago, a warmth rushed through her veins as his husky voice said, "It's okay, baby. Go."

Outside, the cinch was cut from her wrists, a hiss sliding over her tongue as her face contorted, blood quickly making its way through once again. The skin was red and irritated, more so at the base of the heels of her palms where all the pressure was focused each time she tried to squirm her way out, indents decorating the entire area. There were broken blood vessels dotting the surface, and even a spot where her skin had inadvertently broken. The medics cleaned it up and bandaged the small cut while she sat on the tail of the ambulance.

"I don't need to go to the fucking hospital." Inuyasha groaned, the EMT pressing gauze to the wound on his shoulder. "Just tape it up so I can leave."

"Actually, the bullet didn't pass through."

"What?"

"It wasn't a clean shot." The first responder stated, examining it beneath the absorbing material to see that the bleeding was slowing. "It's still in there. We need to get it out, which means you're going to the hospital."

"Just stick your finger in there and pull it out." The half demon arched a brow.

The medic paused, concerned, looking up in question at his captain.

"Yes, he is always like this. I'm sorry." Totosai frowned. "You're going, Inuyasha. That's final."

He huffed, the sound rough and exaggerated as he caved, too tired to battle the order, and leaned back against the wall. His shirt had been cut off of him to make his bullet wound accessible without straining his shoulder by lifting it over his head, the remnants of the tee on the floor beside him. They'd cleaned the surrounding skin of the mess of blood, thankfully, imagining the gory sight holding the potential to traumatize Kagome even further.

"Fine. I'm not going out on a gurney, though." He tried not to flinch as the EMT taped fresh gauze to the hole in his deltoid, extending over his clavicle and part of his pectoral. "And, I want to see Kagome first." His voice had unintentionally dropped an octave, losing its harsh edge.

It was more of a necessity than a desire. He needed a moment with her, and everyone's nod told him they understood that just as well as anyone. Sango held her hand out for him to take, helping him to his feet with her stained palms. They were dried, but just in case, he wiped them on his jeans and headed out.

He hadn't expected the way his feet carried him faster and faster toward the door, almost at a run, ignoring the pinch in his shoulder that would most likely be completely healed in two days. The pain was nothing compared to the boiling uneasiness in his core due to the separation from her. His adrenaline was still high, ember eyes drifting over the surrounding area and hubbub of officers and detectives, two emergency busses parked off toward the fence he and Koga had entered through. He headed in their direction, jogging now, his heart leaping in his chest as he spotted her sitting next to Koga on the tail. There was a blanket wrapped around her and her eyes were at half mass, staring at the rocks on the ground, her legs bobbing uncontrollably from the angle she'd propped them in.

Glancing up, those hopeful eyes landed on him, widening as she immediately jolted from her seat, throwing the blanket from her shoulders and running over to him. It was easy not to pay any mind to the throb in his arm as he skidded to a stop, grasping the breathless woman and silencing her sobbing apologies by crushing his lips to hers.

"You're so stupid!" He kissed her again. "God, you're so stupid! Why would you do that? Why would you leave?"

"I'm sorry!" She cried, fingers twitching against his bare sides.

"Are you okay?" He pressed their foreheads solidly together, a hand threaded through her thick waves at the back of her head. The heat of her skin washed over him, and he found he, himself, was trembling almost as badly as she. "I was so fucking scared, Kagome, tell me he didn't do anything to you!"

"I'm sorry! I love you! I'm okay! Nothing happened!" She said quickly, panting.

"Fuck." Inuyasha kissed her again and again, parting just enough to look to her for further reassurance.

"I swear. He hardly touched me." 

The half demon parted her bangs, inspecting the welt on the side of her head, his fingers traveling over the green and yellow mark on her cheek, and landing at the crook of her jaw, planting one last, sweet kiss on her lips before clutching her into his chest, breathing her in before he inevitably had to let go.

He could already see his own, personal medic waiting for him at the side of his ambulance. He was being patient, but Inuyasha knew the sooner he got this over with, the sooner he could get Kagome home to his place and tend to her. He hugged her a little tighter for a moment, kissing the top of her head before curving to whisper in her ear.

"I have to go to the hospital, okay? Should be quick, they've just gotta take care of this injury." He looked up to scout out his partner, unsurprised to see the wolf demon standing not too far off, watching them, waiting for his cue with his arms crossed. Inuyasha gestured for him to come over, loosening his grip on Kagome and wiping the one stray tear just below her eye that hadn't dried. "Go with Koga."

Ember irises met the gleam of his partner's baby blues - he'd always teased that his eyes were a little too girlish for his build - and they clasped hands, bringing the other in for a firm shoulder bump, a silent thank you for all he'd done for Kagome thus far.

"We'll be right behind you." The wolf mentioned, taking up Kagome's side. Inuyasha nodded, glancing back at her, running his thumb over the brown stain on her chin.

"See you soon."

"Yeah. Soon."

Just as Inuyasha went to step away, a police vehicle approached to leave the gates. As it slowly rolled past, the gravel cracking beneath its tires, Naraku peered through the backseat, arms still restrained behind him. His lips pulled tight into a menacing grin, bringing an icy chill to crawl down Kagome's spine. She and Inuyasha followed the black and white car with their eyes, watching it meet the pavement, driving off toward town and disappearing from sight.

Three months later

"In the matter of The People V. Byakuya Saisei, how do you find?"

"We find the defendant, Byakuya Saisei, guilty your honor."

There was a collective sigh throughout the courtroom. Kagome's mother, who had been squeezing the life out of her hand, deflating when she heard one of the assaulters would be spending up to twenty-five years in prison. Kagome glanced to her left towards the defendant's table where he sat, Byakuya receiving sympathetic pats on his back from his attorney. Behind him were his parents, his mother in shambles while his father sagged in utter disappointment. Their son didn't bother to look back at them in apology. According to his confessions, he resented them and even almost blamed them for his decision to aid his brother in everything.

The room ceased its stirring as the judge slammed her gavel down three times, the old woman's voice demanding everyone's attention as she gave her closing statements. Byakuya was sentenced without the chance of parole, and Naraku, whom Kagome had only had to encounter once since trials began and was not currently present, was reassigned and transferred to a high-risk penitentiary to live out the rest of his days under deliberate and watchful security and isolation when necessary. With a thankful dismissal of the jury, the judge slammed her gavel once more, stating court was adjourned. 

"Are we done yet?" Inuyasha groaned, trudging along at Kagome's side, her feet working a little faster than his to keep pace with his longer strides on the sidewalk. She lifted the small, frilly-wrapped package in her hands, white spiral ribbons splaying over her fingers.

"Does it look like we're done?" She cocked her head to the side, arching a brow. "Come on, this is the last one!"

"I still don't think Koga should have received anything." He huffed.

"He helped just as much as anyone."

"Eh." Inuyasha grimaced, shrugging wanly. "He was moral support."

Kagome rolled her eyes, giggling lightly as she reached for the handle of one of the glass doors, only pulling it open an inch or two before Inuyasha reached over her head and took over, holding it for her as she passed through. She paid him a silent regard, smiling gratefully as she entered into the flower shop. 

Her heart began to pound. She knew this whole thing would be good for her in the end. Her therapist had mentioned that she should get closure for everything that had happened, and one of the ways they discussed was giving thanks to the people who'd helped her get through it all. Still, the last time she was here, she'd been running for her life, and the mind had an awful way of making her trip down memory lane feel more dire than it currently was. Inuyasha's shoulder brushed hers, and she glanced up at him. His silver bangs hung off his forehead with the tilt he held it at, a shimmer of sun shining through the far off window catching a small section of the fringe, illuminating the soft tones of his natural color. 

"Good morning - oh!" The raspy voice of an elderly woman spoke, catching both of their attention. Kagome noticed the thin woman behind the counter, her grey hair tied behind her neck in a very loose bun, eyes wide and lined with age. Kagome walked further in to greet the woman, stopping before the mid-sized table separating them. "You're that girl from the news! Jinenji's mentioned you, too. Says he knows you."

Their case had been all over the news stations, most of which following the tedious and meticulous trial from the arrest up until the verdict was made last week. Though their faces weren't in the papers as much as Naraku's and Byakuya's, they'd incidentally been given the spotlight on television -  her a little more than Inuyasha considering the amount of her involvement - far more than they'd ever liked. Not many people reacted to seeing her anymore, especially since the marks had long faded and Inuyasha proved to be a lethal bodyguard toward lingering cameramen, but mostly because the popularity these sorts of trials build only last so long. There was the climax of the testimonials that brought a lot of attention, but even before last week, all of their focus was centered on the sentencing of the criminals. Nevertheless, being recognized still caused Kagome to stiffen uncomfortably, though she'd admit she much preferred "that girl" to everyone knowing her name again.

In reply, she swallowed her embarrassment, smiling politely with a slight nod. "Uh, yeah."

"And you," The old lady redirected her gaze to Inuyasha, angling her chin according to their height difference. "You're that half demon." 

She was rather blunt as she spoke, showing what could be mistaken for bitterness. Kagome couldn't bite back the way her face twisted into a slight scowl, upset for the way he'd been greeted.

"Relax, I don't mean that as a slander. You've done us all a favor and shown other half breeds that you don't have to be full-blooded anything to be something." She said, the lines on her cheeks pulling upward with her smile. "My boy, the owner of this shop here, is a half demon himself."

Kagome softened at the information, happy for the praise Inuyasha deserved, glancing up as he nodded stiffly in acknowledgment, running his hands through the short, freshly-cut hair at the back of his head, his cheeks brushed lightly with pink. He brought his hand to rest at the small of Kagome's back, the straight, silver strands smoothly flowing back to their rightful place along his crown.

"Is Jinenji here?" She asked. His mother pointed to the doorway in the far left corner, sitting back in her chair with a pleasant expression.

Kagome lead the way, the scents of the radiantly-red roses they passed almost demanding her to stop and smell them. Jinenji had his back turned toward them, his large body curved and hunched as he tended to his work. She gave a light rasp to the frame she stood in, watching as the gentle giant turned to peek over his shoulder. He jumped, those large blue eyes alight with shock as he spun around, almost bumping his head on the ceiling.

"Hi." Kagome smiled happily.

"It's you." The big half demon grinned. "You're - you're okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay." She admitted, almost shying away. He'd seen her fresh from Byakuya's attack. The image of her locked in his memory must have been her battered and tearful face. She could understand that not even news reports could take the place of real life witnessing. Kagome held out the small gift in her hand. "This is for you."

"For me? What for?" Jinenji asked bashfully, taking the package in his fingers and making it look even tinier than it actually was. 

"You helped me when you didn't have to. It's not much, but it's my way of saying thank you."

"I - I was happy to do whatever I could."

"And I appreciate it. More than you'll ever know. They're brownies, I made them myself." Kagome stood taller, her hands clasped in front of her. Jinenji thanked her, his voice soft, accepting her gift as he pulled at one of the white ribbons to untie the knot.

Kagome turned, reaching for Inuyasha to bring him beside her as opposed to standing behind. He took her hand, his fingers entwining through her own, a tender manner about himself as he looked at the man before them.

"This is my boyfriend, Inuyasha. Inuyasha, this is Jinenji. He's the one that saved me that night."

Inuyasha held his free hand out to shake Jinenji's, the sizes of their palms incomparable, but the message spoke just as powerfully. "Thank you. For all that you did."

"I didn't do much."

"But it meant everything."

[daresplaining]

Who are your favourite DD villains? Fisk, Bullseye and Mr Fear all sound brilliant from what I know of them, but are there any others with similarly iconic influence on Matt?

    There are! Daredevil comics aren’t known for their well-crafted villains to the extent that, say, Spider-Man or Batman comics are, but I really enjoy a lot of Matt’s rogues gallery. Fisk and Bullseye are probably the two biggest names, but there are many others who have had major impacts on his life, and the Marvel Universe in general, over the years. Here are some of the most notable DD villains, in my opinion:

Gladiator (Melvin Potter) is a major antagonist who, over the years has become arguably one of the most nuanced and interesting Daredevil characters. I wrote a longer post about him, way back when we thought we might actually get a Gladiator origin story in the Netflix show, but in general, a lot of his lasting appeal comes from the complexity of his character. When he was first introduced in Daredevil vol. 1 #18 he was a pretty standard Silver Age villain: a guy with semi-logical origin story, a funky costume, and a penchant for monologuing. Specifically, Melvin Potter was the owner of a costume store who was sick of being disrespected by his customers, and so decided to make a name for himself by attacking people with spinning blades. 

[ID: A panel from Lee’s Daredevil run. Daredevil is battling the Gladiator. Daredevil hoists himself up on a big crate to dodge one of the Gladiator’s spinning wrist blades.]

Matt: “He’s not fooling with those wrist blades… he’s fighting for real! But, why? I’m certain I’ve never met him before!”

Melvin: “You can’t keep dodging me forever! And the moment you slip, you shall have the honor of being my first victim!”

Daredevil vol. 1 #18 by Stan Lee, John Romita, and Sam Rosen

    Over the years, various writers have worked hard to add nuance to his character. Despite his fearsome appearance and goal of gaining respect, most early Gladiator stories involve Melvin being manipulated by stronger, smarter supervillains. Later, he becomes even more sympathetic: a dangerous killer who, at heart, is gentle and naive and hates when he loses control and hurts people. This creates an inherent discord in his character that adds an emotional hook to all of his stories. Matt tries to help him, and Melvin is grateful for Matt’s friendship and returns that favor when he can, but sometimes they end up having to fight each other. Essentially, Melvin’s story is the relentless tragedy of a man who wants to live a peaceful life but keeps falling victim to his own demons and the cruelty of the world around him. 

[ID: A page from Miller’s Daredevil run. Matt Murdock, in civvies (a tan suit and blue tie) confronts Melvin Potter, who is in a prison uniform and holding his Gladiator helmet.]

Matt: “Melvin, we’ve come so far. I know how much you want to be well… to go straight. We can help you, Betsy and I.”

Melvin: “I been trying, Matt. I been sitting in that courtroom, listening to them say those things about me, feeling my guts churn up, wanting to rip them all to pieces… They hate me. They all hate me… so I’m gonna hate them back!”

Matt: “I’m not letting you off that easy. If you want to become the Gladiator again, you’ll have to get past me.”

Melvin: “Past you?! Look at you– you’re just a skinny little blind guy! I’d break you in half! It’d be easy…”

Matt: “Is that what you want?”

Melvin: “Why not? I’m the Gladiator! The Gladiator! When I’m wearing my armor, I’m unbeatable, I’m…” 

[ID: Melvin throws the helmet and falls to his knees.]

Melvin: “I’m all alone. Help me… please…”

Daredevil vol. 1 #173 by Frank Miller, Klaus Janson, and Glynis Wein

    This complicated and heartwrenching characterization has helped Melvin to remain a fresh and popular antagonist (anti-hero, even) and a regular guest in Daredevil. He is one of several characters who complicates the hero/villain dichotomy, and thereby both emphasizes and challenges Matt’s own heroism. 

Typhoid Mary/Mary Walker is another one of the more famous Daredevil villains, and someone who has had a significant impact on Matt’s story over the years. I wrote a longer post on her as well. Female antagonists in particular seem to suffer from a variety of weaknesses in their depictions, and Typhoid– as a sexual character by nature, as well as someone who plays upon “crazy” villain tropes– has had her share of not great depictions over the years. However, at her core, she is a wonderfully compelling character and a dangerous villain who is literally multifaceted by design. Even moreso than Melvin Potter, Mary plays upon the concept of a good person who is powerless to prevent themself from doing violent things– in Mary’s case, through genuinely having multiple psyches inhabiting one body. She is in constant conflict with herself, as gentle Mary and bloodthirsty Typhoid battle for dominance. As much as she is an antagonist to Matt and the other heroes whose paths she crosses, she is her own arch-enemy. 

[ID: An excerpt from Nocenti’s Daredevil run. Typhoid Mary and Daredevil are both underwater, in the East River. Mary looked panicked partway through strangling Daredevil, and flees out of the water.]

Mary/Typhoid: “Don’t kill him! You! Shut up! I love him! Stop! Get out of my head! You can’t kill him! Get out of my head! Oh, god! Where am I? Why am I dressed like this? What have I done?!”

Matt: “Curious. That’s a completely different woman running away! What came over her?”

Daredevil vol. 1 #256 by Ann Nocenti, John Romita Jr., and Christie Scheele

    Matt’s dealings with Mary have brought about some of the more unheroic moments in his career. In Joe Kelly’s attempt to integrate the Man Without Fear-verse origin story into the 616 universe, he proposed that Matt nearly killed Mary on his first superhero outing. When Typhoid, in her introductory arc, is hired to seduce Matt, it works– he cheats on Karen with her. Later, when attempting to bring down the Kingpin’s empire, Matt removes Mary from the equation by sleeping with her to get her guard down and then forging documents to have her locked away in a psychiatric hospital. She hits all of his weak points: as Mary, she is a victim who needs rescuing… and an attractive one at that. As Typhoid, she is a dangerous enemy who must be stopped. In addition to her skill with weapons, she has all kinds of awesome psychic powers– including, most notably, pyrokinesis– and something about her physiology messes with Matt’s senses and makes her difficult to fight. She is a challenge on every level, and in many ways, Matt serves the same purpose for her– Mary (and, arguably, Typhoid as well) accidentally falls in love with him, representing a loss of power and control that she can’t stand. 

[ID: Excerpt from Nocenti’s Daredevil run. A series of panels alternating between Daredevil falling off a bridge and a tear sliding down Typhoid Mary’s cheek.]

Daredevil vol. 1 #260 by Ann Nocenti, John Romita Jr., and Christie Scheele

The Hand I love the Hand– which is to say, I love the Chaste, and part of why I love the Chaste is because I love their rivalry with the Hand. On some levels, the Hand are your standard Big Bad Secret Organization, but I also find them to be a lot of fun, and they have been a significant force in Daredevil comics since they were introduced. The Hand are key players in Miller’s updated version of Matt’s origin, which introduced Stick and gave him a purpose for training Matt. They also had a huge role in Elektra’s origin, since her attempt to singlehandedly bring them down from the inside led to her becoming an assassin. And of course, Matt’s role as leader of the Hand and temporary vessel for their patron demon, the Beast, was a defining moment in recent DD comics and a low point of Matt’s career. The Hand are dangerous because they are vast, and their high-ranking members have all kinds of cool powers, which I love. And there’s also a certain amount of weakness and dysfunction to the Hand that makes them appealing. They are a once-great organization relegated to being mercenaries-for-hire. Their low-ranking members are fairly weak– as Matt quips in Volume 1 #380, “a little harsh language and [they’re] up in smoke!” They were led by a Skrull (disguised as Elektra) for a while, and didn’t even notice. Arguably their most dangerous enemy, Master Izo, mostly just bothers them with Hand puns. 

[ID: A panel from Diggle’s Daredevil run. Daredevil, seen from the back, is standing in an empty room. The light from the sunset streams in through the windows. Izo is sitting behind him on the floor, drinking tea.]

Matt: “Look, you wanted me leading the Hand, you got it… but I never agreed to be your puppet.”    

Izo: “‘Hand puppet.’ Heh.”

Daredevil vol. 2 #503 by Andy Diggle, Roberto De La Torre, Marco Checchetto, and Matt Hollingsworth

    I also enjoy the way the Hand and the Chaste operate and Matt’s relationship with them. Matt isn’t an official member of the Chaste (like Elektra, he was rejected for being too emotional– which, in his case at least, is a fair assessment) but he still teams up with them on occasion, and the experience almost always puts him out of his depth in really entertaining ways. Matt is one of the Hand’s biggest enemies and one of the Chaste’s most useful allies, so he gets dragged into their business even when he doesn’t want to be involved. 

[ID: Excerpt from Daredevil: Ninja. A conversation between Daredevil and Stone in a series of face close-ups.]

Stone: “We need your help.”

Matt: “You should have asked me to come.”

Stone: “Would you have?”

Matt: “I hate this ninja crap. I hate it. Every single time it’s nothing but lies, half-truths, and misguided loyalties. Stay away from me and my life.”

Daredevil: Ninja #2 by Brian Michael Bendis, Rob Haynes, and David Self

    There are also two excellent (and, I’d say, influential) alternate universes in which Matt joins the Hand and thrives in their presence: What If? Daredevil vs. Elektra and Earth-65 (Spider-Gwen-verse). 

Lady Bullseye (Maki Matsumoto) And if we’re discussing the Hand and the Chaste, I have to mention Maki– undisputed head of the Bullseye Fan Club and another of my favorite Daredevil villains. She’s relatively new (she was introduced during Brubaker’s run) and so hasn’t had a particularly big long-term influence on Matt, but she is a great character with extensive connections to Daredevil history. One thing I love about her is the fact that while she modeled her look and identity on Bullseye, she isn’t treated as just female version of him, as her name might suggest. They actually have very little in common; she just chose to honor Bullseye because he played a role in her origin story by indirectly rescuing her from a human trafficking ring.

[ID: Panels from Brubaker’s Daredevil run. Bullseye is single-handedly beating up a bunch of gun-toting mobsters in a warehouse building. Maki Matsumoto watches him between the bars of a large cage.]   

Caption: “She remembers that so vividly. Remembers the joy she beheld that day from her cage. She had never seen anything so beautiful, she thought. Of course, she was nearly insane already by then. But then, like a miracle… freedom.”

[ID: Maki reaches between the bars of the cage and grabs a key from a dead mobster’s pocket. As she tries to escape, another mobster runs toward her.]

Man: “You– back in your cage, girl!”

Maki: “I think not.”

[ID: Without looking at him, she slices his throat with the key.]

Daredevil vol. 2 #111 by Ed Brubaker, Clay Mann, and Matt Hollingsworth

    Since then, Maki has teamed up with Bullseye– mostly notably, resurrecting and caring for him after his death in “Shadowland”– but more often, she operates on her own as an assassin. Like both Elektra and Matt, she was trained by the Hand and the Chaste without forming an official allegiance with either, and it seems her primary teacher was Master Izo– thus making her Matt and Elektra’s ninja aunt and/or sister in the Chaste Family Tree that definitely exists in my head and nowhere else. 

[ID: Excerpt from Brubaker’s Daredevil run. Lady Bullseye and Izo are standing on a Manhattan rooftop as the sky brightens behind them. Pigeons are flocking around them; Izo has one perched on his hand.]

Maki: “You said I would lead the Hand.”

Izo: “I said a lot of things when I was training you, girl… Said whatever I needed to say.”

Maki: “You’re as bad as them.”

Izo: “No. I didn’t put you in a cage and sell you to the Yakuza.”

Maki: “You still used me.”

Izo: “Yes, I did… but I’m not going to apologize.”

Maki: “Someday I’ll kill you for this. You know that, right?”

[ID: Izo leaps off the roof.]

Izo: “Yeah, well… get in line.”

Daredevil vol. 2 #500 by Ed Brubaker, Michael Lark, Stefano Gaudiano, Matt Hollingsworth, et al.

    Maki masterminds the destruction of Matt’s life that leads him to join the Hand. She is extremely smart (she passes herself off as a lawyer during Brubaker’s run and fools both Matt and Foggy; as far as anyone knows, she might actually have a law degree…?), an excellent fighter (arguably better than Matt, not quite as good as Elektra), an absolute badass, and an all-around great antagonist who deserves her own solo series (hint, hint, Marvel). 

Death-Stalker I’m not sure Death-Stalker counts as a major Daredevil villain, but he was used about once a week in late 70s Daredevil so he’s certainly been a recurring presence. I also just find him really cool, conceptually. One of the interesting things about Death-Stalker is that he started his existence as a completely different supervillain: the Exterminator, who is best known for “killing” Mike Murdock! The Exterminator had a weapon that could shift its victims out of sync with the time-stream. When Matt blows it up to fake Mike’s death, the Exterminator is caught in the blast, with shocking consequences: 

[ID: Excerpt from McKenzie’s Daredevil run. A series of flashback panels: the Exterminator (a kind of goofy-looking villain with a purple and white costume and blue antennae on the side of his mask) watching Daredevil pull a lever, then the Exterminator getting caught in an explosion and falling into a void.] 

Death-Stalker: “How many long and empty years has it been, Murdock? How many… since you so callously destroyed my awesome Time-Displacement Ray… catching me fully in the time-shattering explosion?! How long has it been since I was hurled through the fabric of time? But what you believed to be my death proved instead a macabre rebirth! I found myself in a timeless limbo! Unobserved, I could go anywhere! Do anything!”

Daredevil vol. 1 #158 by Roger McKenzie, Frank Miller, and George Roussos

    Thus, the Exterminator returns years later as Death-Stalker– a villain who can move freely through time and space, become intangible at will, and whose mere touch is lethal. This, combined with his new appearance (glowing eyes, bony hands, huge billowy cape…) makes for an excellent creepy character concept, and some of the Death Stalker issues feel more like horror stories than the typical Daredevil comic. 

[ID: Excerpt from Gerber’s Daredevil run. A tired Daredevil is making his way through a swamp. Death-Stalker appears behind him out of the fog and puts a skeletal white hand on his shoulder. Daredevil collapses.]

Matt: “H-he’s gone! Nothing but an empty cape! It’s not possible! It– where did he go?!”

Death-Stalker: “Here, Daredevil. I am here. Death is at your back.”

Matt: “Huh? Wha– No!! My… shoulder… your fingers… like ice–!”

Death-Stalker: “Like death, Daredevil. Like the grim, glacial embrace of the North Wind. No use to flee… you can’t outrun the wind.”

Caption: “For Daredevil, for this sightless adventurer, all the world is blackness, all the time. But now, a different kind of darkness envelopes him, a sort of oblivion he has never known before. He hears his heartbeat slow… feels his mind empty of all thought… feel his every nerve tingle, then go numb… and he knows that he is… dying. And that is all he knows when the darkness claims him and the Death-Stalker relaxes his grip.”

Daredevil vol. 1 #114 by Steve Gerber, Bob Brown, and Stan G.

    Sadly, though, I don’t feel he was ever used to his full skin-crawling potential, particularly considering how dangerous his power-set was. He was mostly just a nuisance who rarely got the upper hand, and he was killed in Daredevil #158 when he accidentally materialized through a tombstone during a fight with Matt. One of my favorite details about Death-Stalker isn’t Death-Stalker himself– it’s that his mother lived in a booby-trapped mansion and owned an army of exploding robotic children that she sicced on Matt to avenge her son’s death. But that’s a story for another post… 

Jester (Jonathan Powers) The Jester gets no respect, and it’s a shame because he’s both genuinely a great villain when he’s used well and highly entertaining when his 1960s goofiness is played up, and he manages to embody both of those characterizations with absolute panache. He has played a role in some fairly major Daredevil stories over the years and I’d consider him a staple DD villain. His origin story is pure Silver Age silliness: he was an actor who received bad reviews for his first major starring role, found his career heading downhill, and so decided to become a supervillain instead. This is pretty typical of motivations for villains of this time period (see the Gladiator’s origin story above, and Stilt-Man below), but even this aspect of his character has been put to good use. Daredevil #218 features a surprisingly touching story of the Jester stealing the chance to reprise that first starring role– and of Matt keeping the cops distracted (by pretending to be the Jester!) so that his enemy can finally live his dream. 

[ID: Excerpt from O’Neil’s Daredevil run. The Jester is dressed as Cyrano de Bergerac. He pulls off his false nose and bows dramatically to Daredevil and the cops who have come to take him in.]

Jester: “A moment ago you unmasked. Now I shall perform a similar gesture… I am your humble and obedient servant… the Jester! At your service!”

Matt: “You deserve the bow. You were magnificent.”

Jester: “Indeed! I trust the critics will change their tune.”

Daredevil vol. 1 #218 by Denny O’Neil, Sal Buscema, and Christie Scheele

    Throughout the issue, Matt draws comparisons between himself and the Jester: their shared mask-wearing and the experiences of disillusionment that shaped their lives– and while it certainly doesn’t give the Jester the emotional depth of certain other Daredevil villains, it’s a memorable connection. 

    But where the Jester is at his most dangerous is not as an actor looking for attention– it’s as a creator of chaos. The Jester is a master of illusions and media manipulation. In his introductory arc, he frames Daredevil for his murder and turns Matt into a wanted criminal. Later, he uses a campaign of false news reports and misinformation to sabotage Foggy’s run for District Attorney, turn the superhero community into targets, and throw the whole country into an uproar. Most recently, in Waid’s run, he manipulated TV footage to cause rioting in NYC in the wake of an unpopular and highly publicized court ruling. His plans don’t always succeed, but even then, the scope and effectiveness of the damage he causes makes him a truly formidable villain.

[ID: Excerpt from Waid’s Daredevil run. The Jester is sitting in front of computer monitors in a dark room, yelling into a microphone. In the next panel, we see random civilians in a cafe, watching “Mayor Jameson” (played by the Jester) on TV.]

Jester: “Listen to him. God, he’s so smug. No matter. This is a minor setback. Daredevil’s not the ultimate target, after all. The city’s the target, and it’ll burn. Voice synthesizer on… People of New York… this is Mayor Jameson! Effective immediately, I am rescinding all handgun regulations in Manhattan! Take up arms– for your own protection– and await further instructions!”

Daredevil vol. 3 #32 by Mark Waid, Chris Samnee, and Javier Rodriguez

The Owl (Leland Owlsley) The Owl has, unfortunately, been overshadowed by the Kingpin for most of his existence, and as such, hasn’t been given anywhere near the same amount of character development or nuance. They were created based on the same character concept: a high-powered mobster with a shadowy network of pawns who controls the city’s criminal underworld. 

[ID: A series of panels from Lee’s Daredevil run, showing a man in a long green coat and brimmed hat walking into an office building. His face is not shown; the people he passes looked at him with fear.]

Caption: “This is Wall Street, heart of New York’s Financial District, where fortunes are made and lost by the world’s greatest financial wizards! And, within the canyons of this street, we are about to find one certain man… a merciless man… a man with no friends… no loved ones… nothing to connect him with the human race, save the fact of his birth! Let us follow this man… let us study him as he walks into a towering office building, his heavy footsteps reverberating through the huge marble lobby! For we shall see much of this man on the pages that follow… He walks slowly, but with a sure, steady tread… looking neither to the right nor the left… ignoring those he passes and those who pass him! But he himself cannot readily be ignored by others! His very presence seems so fraught with evil, with menace, that his fellow humans shrink back from the mere sight of him! There are some who recognize him… who speak his name in whispers… for his wealth is said to be legendary, and his power almost beyond measure!”

Daredevil vol. 1 #3 by Stan Lee, Joe Orlando, and Sam Rosen

    Unfortunately, the Kingpin just ended up doing it better, and while there are a few Owl story arcs that I really like, I’ve never found him that interesting. However, he is hugely significant because he was the very first Daredevil supervillain, introduced all the way back in Daredevil #3! (In #1 Matt fights the mobsters who killed his father, and in #2 he fights Electro, who is a Spider-Man rogue.) Thus, he has had an impact on Matt’s life simply from having been around for so long. This also means there’s a huge range in his stories, verging from extremely ridiculous (he sometimes eats rats, and used to own an owl-shaped airplane. How cool is that?) to slightly more grounded. There is a great Owl story arc in which his bird-like body modifications start killing him, which gives his law-breaking more nuance, because he is doing it to look for a cure. Matt, upon discovering this, tries to help him. 

[ID: Excerpt from Chichester’s Daredevil run. Daredevil and the Owl are on a fire escape together. The Owl has metal cybernetic legs and has collapsed. Daredevil is comforting him.]

Matt: “You’re going to make it, hear me? You’re gonna–”

Owlsley: “You should’ve let me…”

Matt: “Unh-uh. You take my hand– you’re willing to take my hand– I don’t let go. You’ve got some long ways to go, mister… but you can count on me…”

Daredevil vol. 1 #303 by D.G. Chichester, M.C. Wyman, and Christie Scheele

    There’s also great point in Bendis’s run when the Owl, in a surprising demonstration of cleverness, hires a lawyer to sue Daredevil for breaking and entering. It doesn’t work, but it throws Matt off and is absolutely priceless. 

    The Owl has also had several children– two unnamed young kids who were introduced in Alias, and Jubula Pride, who was introduced in Daredevil Volume 4 and worked alongside Matt to rescue her father. Jubula’s brief-but-memorable appearance added a bit more depth to the Owl– allowing us to see him in the role of a parent as well as a villain. But mostly, over the years the Owl has remained one of the more insidious of New York’s mob bosses, always scheming to stay in power and fight his way out of the Kingpin’s shadow. And he’s been doing it for so long that he feels like an integral part of Daredevil comics. 

Turk Barrett He’s not a costumed supervillain or even much of a threat, but Turk has become an iconic Daredevil antagonist for both his sheer ineptitude and his plucky ability to stay alive. Of all of the recurring low-level mobster characters, he has the most engaging personality, and his dynamic with Matt is one of long-held friendly animosity. Daredevil isn’t the most dangerous person in Turk’s life, Turk isn’t the most dangerous person in Matt’s life, so they mostly just annoy each other. They’ve even been known to team up, when Turk thinks the odds of survival are in his favor. 

[ID: Excerpt from Daredevil: Love and War. Turk Barrett (dressed in a white shirt and blue pants) is mopping the inside of an elevator. The doors open, and Daredevil walks in. They ride the elevator together.] 

Matt: “Turk! You got the job!”

Turk: “No, man… this… I mean, I’m working undercover, man… I’m your backup!”

Matt: “I believe you, Turk.”

Turk: “Even know what level the doc’s on, man… So how’d you get in, Devil?”

Matt: “I flew in, Turk.”

Turk: “…Course. I knew that. ‘Spose the window locks weren’t much trouble…”

Matt: “Melted them with my heat vision.”

Daredevil: Love and War by Frank Miller and Bill Sienkiewicz

    Turk is an underdog. He’s kind of a goof and he’s certainly a criminal, but he’s also a small fish in a big and dangerous pond, working in a career where most people eventually end up at the bottom of the East River in concrete shoes (or a taxi, as the case may be). He’s slippery and resourceful, he stays just harmless enough to keep himself out of danger, and you can’t help but root for him, even when he does dumb things like stealing Stilt-Man’s stilts or trying to kill Daredevil for the hundredth unsuccessful time. 

Stilt-Man (Wilbur Day), of course, requires no introduction. He is another personal favorite of mine, and a rare case of a goofy Silver Age villain surviving into the modern era while remaining exactly as goofy as he was when first introduced. The great appeal of Stilt-Man is, in fact, that he’s a bit of a joke, while at the same time being quite dangerous, in a comic book physics-kind of way.  

[ID: Excerpt from Lee’s run. Daredevil is battling Stilt-Man on a daytime city street.]

Wilbur: “Hah! You missed!! Have you forgotten so soon how easily I can change my height, thanks to my magnificent hydraulically-operated stilts?!!”

Matt: “Mebbe so! But I haven’t forgotten that I’m the gent who whumped you good last time fought! (Man! It sure is lucky I was here! If Stilt-Man ever managed to get the Leap-Frog safely away, what a team those two would make! But, I hear the boys in blue hauling that human jumping jack right now! Which means Stilty and I can go it alone!) Heads up, dad! It’s time for fun ‘n games again!”

Wilbur: “Hah! Didn’t expect me to seize your cable, did you? I should have warned you, little man– I’ve modified my protective armor in such a way as to double my strength! Which means I’m more than a match for your limited talents!!”

Daredevil vol. 1 #26 by Stan Lee, Gene Colan, and Artie Simek

    Part of the charm of this characterization is the fact that he’s a joke in-universe as well; most of his appearances in modern comics consist of Stilt-Man being made fun of and/or of the audience being reminded that he’s actually a threat. This creates a great balance in his depictions; the jokes are fun, the sight of various superheroes being beaten up (at least a little) by Stilt-Man is fun, and he remains an enjoyable, mostly lighthearted presence in a landscape that has become dominated by Dark, Serious, and Disturbing villains. 

[ID: Excerpt from Bendis’s Daredevil run. Matt is sitting at his desk in his darkened office, talking to Wilbur Day– a short, bald guy in a black jacket, with his arm in a sling.]

Wilbur: “Wilbur Day– I’m Stilt-Man. We’ve met four hundred times.”

Matt: “Stilt-Man– Huh. Oh, you mean that burglar guy Stilt-Man? Who wears the stilts and robs things?”

Wilbur: “Can we please just–”

Matt: “We’ve met when?”

Wilbur: “I–”

Matt: “Are you in some kind of legal trouble? Is that why you’re here?”

Wilbur: “Okay, fine.”

Daredevil vol. 2 #41 by Brian Michael Bendis, Alex Maleev, and Matt Hollingsworth

    Stilt-Man is just a short guy in a ridiculous outfit who wants to commit some crimes and get a little respect– and really, who can’t relate to that?  

Ikari (???) I’m mentioning Ikari not because he’s a long-established Daredevil villain– he’s not– but because I am fascinated by his potential. He’s a favorite of mine as much for what we don’t know as for what we do. In his introductory arc, we learn this: He was engineered/commissioned by Bullseye to kill Matt, his fighting abilities equal Matt’s, he has hypersenses, and (as a horrified Matt discovers later) he can also see.

Ikari: “Someone has, in fact, managed to re-create the toxic chemicals that blinded you, gave you enhanced senses. Someone whose hate for you keeps him alive. But he didn’t waste the process on weak, malnourished vagrants. He used it to baptize a warrior. A fighter trained to be every bit your equal in skill– and now, in power.” 

Daredevil vol. 3 #25 by Mark Waid, Chris Samnee, and Javier Rodriguez

    And that’s it. We don’t know who he is or where he came from, or what the consequences are of having that degree of sensory perception (presumably his vision is heightened too?). We don’t know what his personal goals or motivations are, since we’ve only ever seen him as a pawn– first of Bullseye and then, later, of the Kingpin. But the concept of his character as someone who shares Matt’s powers plus some– who is essentially, skills-wise, a criminal version of Matt– and all the mystery that surrounds him, is hugely compelling to me. 

[ID: Excerpt from Waid’s Daredevil run. Both Ikari and Daredevil are out on the street, being shot at by cops. As Daredevil hides behind a parked car, Ikari attacks the cops and cuts their guns in half with his blades.]

Matt: “The cops are hunting me under an open-fire command. Presuming they’ve been advised of Ikari’s prison break, I’m sure the same order applies to him. I wish it scared him. I wish anything did.”

Daredevil vol. 4 #17 by Mark Waid, Chris Samnee, and Matt Wilson

    In his last appearance he was killed by the Shroud, but his body was stolen, leaving the door open for him to maybe return sometime in the future and receive more development. I hope he does. 

[zdbztumble]

Botching Backwards and Forwards, Or: Today’s KH Ramble, Part I

As I play through KH III, I’ve also been catching up with the series by watching the Let’s Plays of the other games done by Team Four Star. Because they didn’t play through Coded and only watched the cutscenes from 358/2 Days, that means that there’s only one game on their playlist that I haven’t played myself, that game being Dream Drop Distance. From what I can tell, its gameplay operates on a similar mechanic to Birth by Sleep, which I enjoyed quite a bit. I frankly prefer the Command Decks to what we have in the console games. DDD making levels out of some left-field choices in Disney worlds was a pleasant surprise too. For the Fantasia world alone, I’ll have to consider picking DDD up when I’m not facing a month of utter financial ruin.

And yet, between the two of them, BbS and DDD are responsible for nearly everything wrong with the story of Kingdom Hearts up to this point IMO. Coded got the ball rolling by opening back up a story that had already been satisfyingly ended in KH II, but these two titles do the bulk of the damage to a series that, up to that point, had handled its story pretty well.

Starting with BbS, I freely admit that some of my issues with it boil down to a matter of preference. Turning the Keyblade into a (once) fairly common weapon with many wielders, with a history detailing a great Keyblade War and a test for a Mark of Mastery...all of that wasn’t to my taste, but I can’t say that there’s anything in principle wrong with it. It isn’t necessarily out of place for this series, and the one major wrinkle in continuity it causes (Keyblades choosing wielders) could be squared fairly easily. A prequel focusing on hitherto unmentioned characters rather than the series protagonists isn’t an inherently wrong choice either, though I’ll have more to say about that in Part II of this rant. That I don’t find Terra, Ven, or Aqua terribly interesting as characters is mostly a matter of preference as well, though I do think Terra’s descent into the darkness relies too much on sheer idiocy, and I will admit that Aqua is possibly the most fun player character in this series with her plethora of magic spells. But where I more seriously fault BbS (and Coded, for opening this door) is in its changes to Xehanort’s plots and backstory, and in undermining one of the best thematic ideas from the original Kingdom Hearts game.

"Ansem” turning out to be the true villain of KH I after two-thirds of the gameplay pass under the assumption that it’s the confederation of Disney villains was an effective twist that let an original character, more comfortably of the Square Enix half of the crossover, shine. “Ansem” turning out to be Xehanort the renegade apprentice, with his Nobody Xemnas the leader of Organization XIII, was hardly the most organic twist in the world; I don’t think anyone would go back to KH I and say “oh, it was so obvious, how did I not see it before?” But it made for another genuinely surprising twist in KH II. A villain can only have so many twists and secret plans, however, before effective surprises become cheap gimmicks, and any ability to take their current scheme seriously evaporates.

The revelation that Xehanort is in fact a transparently evil old man who, years before any of the events that led to KH I, plotted to synthesize a X-Blade and bring about a second Keyblade War (with less than ten combatants, so it’d be more of a Keyblade Skirmish) in what basically amounts to a mad scientist’s scheme in fantasy genre clothing, was the breaking point for me. This is a common trap of both prequels and conventional sequels; trying to tie too many things into a small group of characters, or in this case, a single character. Making Xehanort into a villain that spans multiple generations, the man who set into motion everything that preceded KH I and is indirectly responsible for Sora, Kairi, and Riku becoming Keyblade Wielders, can seem like an expansion of the universe on paper, but in execution, it’s a contraction. It reduces too many events down to factors in a single character’s actions. The fact that his scheme is no more coherent than those from KH I and II doesn’t help, nor does the fact that the storyline that most directly leads into Xehanort’s role in those games - Terra’s - is so transparently ripped from Revenge of the Sith.

But Xehanort’s abrupt reentry into the story isn’t truly maddening - not in BbS, at least. For me, the worst part of the BbS story is how it retroactively changes Sora’s. I’d go so far as to say that BbS is to Sora what Dragon Ball: Minus is to Bardock and Goku.

Don’t misunderstand me on that point: BbS is nowhere near as bad a game as Dragon Ball: Minus is a comic. What I mean by that is: prior to Dragon Ball: Minus, most people took Bardock: the Father of Goku to be canon. And, in that TV special, the history given to Goku, derived from what was said in the manga at the time, was that he was of no account by the standards of Saiyan society. He was a no-account spawn of a low-class warrior, sent off to a far-flung planet to clear out its worthless inhabitants. That low-class warrior who fathered him was as ruthless and mercenary as any typical Saiyan, and while he was stronger than the average low-class fighter and was given psychic insight into the fate of his people, Bardock was ultimately just another Saiyan doomed to die and be forgotten by time. Nothing in Goku’s origins is special or fated, which makes his accidental amnesia and eventual surpassing of Vegeta, the supposed Saiyan ideal, more remarkable. By transforming Bardock into a more tamed Saiyan with a close familial bond to his mate, who sends his son to Earth for safety in a blatant rip-off of Superman’s origins, Goku and Bardock both become too special, Goku’s turning into a kind-hearted child becomes too telegraphed, and their stories become too beholden to “chosen one” cliches.

And that is what BbS does to Sora, Riku, and to a lesser extent Kairi. That all three of them just happen, in their childhoods, to have had contact with Keyblade Wielders who left a personal mark upon them - and, in Sora’s case, literally took up residence inside him - is just too pat. It makes the three of them ending up with Keyblades too easy, too predestined. This hurts all three of them, but Sora most of all. Ven looking like Roxas and Vanitas looking like Sora, is a massive headache (and yes, I’m aware that there is at least some explanation of that), but the big loss is in the thematic content of the story, and there is where the comparisons to Dragon Ball: Minus really come into play.

Like a pre-Minus Goku, pre-BbS Sora is not special, in any way, at the start of KH I. He’s an ordinary young teen, plucky and affable and just a bit lazy, with a burgeoning quasi-romantic interest in his friend Kairi and an in-all-things rivalry with his best friend Riku. Compared to Riku, Sora comes up short in pretty much every area. Riku, at first glance, is faster, stronger, smarter, more dedicated, more fearless, and more capable. If you were going to choose one of those two to be the fated hero wielding a magic blade to save the worlds from darkness, Riku’s the better candidate by every metric, on paper. And, in fact, the Keyblade does choose Riku. The whole “chosen one” cliche is subverted in KH I in a brilliant way by essentially having destiny make the wrong choice. That Sora only gets the Keyblade by accident, loses it to its intended master, but quickly reclaims it on the strength of his accomplishments and his purity - that he earns it - is one of my favorite things in this entire series, and is a wonderful thematic idea and moral. Giving Sora and Riku both a fated “touched by a master” backstory kills so much of that idea, and it’s enough to make me wish that there was no BbS, as fun as the gameplay can be.

Ironically, DDD tries to have its cake and eat it too by playing up the fact that Sora wasn’t chosen by the Keyblade, but the damage was done by that point. And DDD further undermines that initial concept in the way it writes Sora, and his relationship with Riku. For one thing, Sora in DDD seems so much dumber than he was in previous games. Up to that point, he’d been written as an upbeat young teen, possessed of a certain level of immaturity and naivete, but always determined to help save the day, and more than capable of getting serious when needed. DDD abruptly starts to portray him as more of a doofy shonen hero, without any clear motivation and to no real purpose. It also introduces the idea that the central dynamic in Sora and Riku’s friendship is that Sora lifts Riku’s spirits while Riku takes up the slack from Sora’s sloppiness and carelessness. I have a real problem with that presentation, because it just isn’t true.

If you go back and look at KH I, those early Destiny Islands scenes set Sora up as the underdog to Riku’s Big Man on Campus. Riku jokes that he’s the only one working on the raft, and Kairi remarks that “he’s changed,” but he doesn’t come off as someone needing to perk up. And with one of the first challenges of the game being Sora gathering raft supplies, it doesn’t seem that Riku needs to take up that much slack either. In any event, over the course of KH I, Riku’s the one who drops the slack and falls into darkness, with Sora literally having to stop him from doing horrible things. And it’s Sora who continues on through CoM and KH II, saving the worlds. While Riku does appear here and there to aid Sora, his aid doesn’t come in the form of “taking up slack” or cleaning up after messes Sora leaves; Sora, Donald, and Goofy are still able to save the day by their own skill in each world. This whole notion, and Sora’s more dim-witted persona, seem invented, if not from whole cloth, then from very little that was previously established.

And again, there doesn’t seem to be a clear motive, unless it’s to highlight the differences between Sora and Riku and give more justification to Riku getting the Mark of Mastery when Sora wasn’t. But the writing doesn’t give a coherent through-line to that idea, nor does it sufficiently justify Sora not becoming a Master. Had the game actively told a story of turning the tables, and made a point to stress the idea that Riku’s fully reformed and that Sora was slipping up, then I’d be more forgiving (even if I still wouldn’t like the idea), but the work just isn’t there.

I’ll admit that there’s a certain amount of bias in my assessment; I’ve never liked Riku as a character. As a teen playing KH I for the first time, I found it easy to project my dislike of certain people IRL onto him, and in the years since, I’ve continued to find that the manner of his turn to darkness in KH I makes it very hard to accept him back into the fold with Sora and the others. He’s also a lousy player character in Reverse/Rebirth and in KH III IMO. But I accept that he’s the deuteragonist, and that his story since KH I has been one of redemption. In principle, a game that builds him up as a character and lets him save the day is fine. But the manner in which it was done in DDD was all wrong. And to an extent, the changes made to his and Sora’s friendship, and to Sora’s personality, have all carried over into KH III, which is even more frustrating.

And, speaking of things carried over...DDD is where Xehanort gets completely ridiculous IMO. Having pulled a third twist that he was actually an ancient Keyblade Master seeking to provoke a war, now there’s a fourth twist where his younger self has been traveling through time (by ridiculous means) to ensure that the fifth twist - that all that business about Nobodies having no hearts was a lie, and that the real Organization XIII exists to create thirteen Horcruxes vessels for Xehanort’s heart, so that there can be thirteen darknesses to face the seven lights in the Keyblade War (which still seems short of the numbers you’d need for an actual war, but whatever). The whole business about “recompletion” allowing an original person to revive if their Heartless and Nobody are destroyed is already enough of a contrivance to bring the original Xehanort back, but time travel and heart-splitting is even more absurd. And I still haven’t been able to figure out how “Ansem” and Xemnas can be back in action, even with the time travel aspect.

Recompletion also means that DDD brings back the rest of Organization XIII. I consider nearly all of them to be glorified henchmen, possessed of a gimmick for combat and a single personality trait at best, so their revival - and their cameos in BbS - do nothing for me. A big exception to that is Axel, but if I don’t care much for Riku, I can’t stand Axel. He comes off as what an “edgy” teenage writer would come up with for a “cool” character in a bad first stab at fiction. From his character design to his abused catchphrase, everything about him pisses me off. His one saving grace in KH II was that he sacrifices himself, and nothing undermines a sacrifice like a contrived way around death. That he’s become a Keyblade Wielder, and one of the Seven Guardians of Light, is ridiculous to me, and I’m not sure if I can think of a more blatant example of a writer’s pet character being so inorganically shoved to the forefront of a story that supposedly isn’t about them.

DDD also started to open the door to the possibility of Roxas and Namine being restored. That idea is less annoying to me than any of these others, but it’s still a mistake IMO. That Roxas and Namine both ultimately elect to give up their lives as individuals to return Sora and Kairi to their full selves, accepting their fate so that others can live more fully, is a bittersweet and touching concept, and one that lets “death” have some real consequences and the happy ending of KH II come with a price. I hate seeing that undermined, and I’m frankly frustrated by how much of KH III’s front half involved chatter about Roxas.

And speaking of KH III...that’s where Part II comes in.

ADDENDUM: Another thing about DDD that I feel undermines Sora is that, while writing him dumber, the game also hypes him up more than he ever was in the past. It’s the same problem as Harry Potter; for all that series’ virtues, constantly pointing out how special Harry is can end up taking away from his character by making his unique traits too ubiquitous. Other characters constantly pointing out how kind and loving and easy to bond with Sora is undermines that trait by over-playing it and turning it into an exercise in “tell, don’t show.”

[cutegirlmayra]

would you do an infinite x amy prompt??

(x *Submitted with Artist Permission. A special thanks to @reymie-hedgehog for her claim to this art prompt! Please support the artist as well!)

Prompt:

“And this is Amy Rose.” Eggman flicked the data screen on, the room dark with nothing but the rapid flashing of images since Infinite could register everything at light speed.

“Hmm? And why should I care about the weak underlings?” Infinite’s arms crossed, as he gestured his head in a slow, creepy turn to Eggman.

Flicking his tail, he returned his gaze to the rapidly looping screen of images and data files. “It would be wise to hide such… innocent bystanders from the scent of true conflict anyway. Regardless of ties…” he lifted his hand to his mask, narrowing his sights on the data, which— did little to impress him.

Eggman’s glasses shone as his smile intensified, curling to the outer rims of his face. “I wouldn’t be so sure to count her out just yet… She’s ruthless when it comes to saving her friends… and your primary target is her biggest crush…”

He scoffed a mocking laugh, “Such emotions lead to ruin. She’s barely an insect under my shoe.” He removed his hand and tensed his claws up, pivoting to Eggman, showing off his confidence…

“…But harm a bee, and the queen will seek.” Eggman rose from his chair, looking comfortable at first before losing his smile at Infinite’s responses. “Don’t underestimate her emotions… they can doom you… but they can also strengthen you…” Eggman faced the constantly changing screen and put his hands behind his back.

“She may be annoying… but most likely, she’ll become a pebble in our shoe. Just like the rest of his little friends…”

Infinite turned back to the screen, unsure why Eggman was taking Sonic’s friends so seriously… but as the images rotated through, he tilted his head at her stronger looks and appearances… her fighting stances and determined face…

Such a bright… confident… face.

He hated it instantly.

“What an interesting prey.” He folded his arms again, relaxing from this sudden burst of hatred. “To think… that Hedgehogs can be such a nuisance.” He and Eggman shared a bonding laugh, but it was a false sense of brotherhood…

—

After hearing of Sonic’s supposed death, his body never found, and Tails admitting he watched them haul Sonic away and couldn’t do anything about it… the team was left to utter misery.

Tails broke, resulting in his confidence so carefully compiled after all these years shattered, and Knuckles finally stepping up to remember duty first… even though he had enjoyed his life thanks to Sonic’s influence; to him, it was back to responsibility, no more carefree adventures full of laughs and dangers. Now it was just danger.

Amy…

She refused to believe, to take it all in, and stormed out of the hub.

“Amy!” Silver tried to stop her, using his power to secure the door so she couldn’t open it further. “Rage will only lead to a lack of reason..!” he struggled to keep the door where it was, as she firmly began to fight against it, shoving it with one hand…

“Amy, gal, you gotta listen to him!” Vector tried to step up, opening his arms to her. “Look… we all miss him. But you can’t let your anger control ya!”

“Vector’s right. You’ll only cause harm to yourself. More so than what you presently feel now.” Espio configured his hands into a ninja relaxation pose and held them firmly in front of him. “Deep breathing is the key…”

“H-here..!” Charmy buzzed over to her, spreading his arms out wide, looking worried too. “Need a hug?”

Amy gritted her teeth, tears already visible as the men took a step back, realizing she wasn’t herself.

“Amy…” they almost in unison stated at their distress of letting her go off on her own…

“I can’t just let you-“ But as Silver tried to reinforce his hold on the door, Amy summoned her hammer and he immediately released it.

The door swung open and slammed against the back, almost coming unhinged as it swung back, but Amy was long gone…

On the battlefield, the countless other squadrons trying to break through the perimeter that Infinite and his Phantom Ruby doubles were securing, Amy’s quills spiked up as she dipped her head and speed-walked through the battle zone.

“What she doin’!?” A recruit called out.

“That’s suicide!”

Infinite heard the cries and looked over his shoulder. “Hmm?”

He saw Amy coming straight at him, crying as she demolished the robots in her way, swinging wildly, and moving in a straight line to Infinite.

“…What’s this?” He gave her his full attention, turning and stopping his hand-lasers from taking any more of the resistance down.

She was now just below where he hovered in the air…

He gently shook a hand out to her, “Curious… Eggman had told me that you may not deal with the death of your beloved hero easily… What shall you do now, Little one? You’re left defenseless…” he spread out his arms and lowered himself in front of her.

“I’ve murdered your dreams… I’ve stolen your love… And now… show me those innocent eyes… stained in hate.” He narrowed his eye, waiting…

But to his surprise, she rose her head, only to show the determined love still filled in them, the heartbreak had only turned her eyes to clearer emeralds that shone with absolute sorrow.

He twitched a moment, forming fists at his disappointment.

He rose up from hunching over to intimidate her.

“…How quaint.” He ‘pfft’d to the side, swishing his tail in annoyance. “You still don’t believe he’s gone…”

“I’d never give up on Sonic.” She pulled her hammer behind her, readying her stance. “I’ll never give in to the likes of you!”

It was then that her heart skipped… when he sped so quickly up to her that fear froze her, locking her muscles into place.

She trembled uncontrollably as he sped up directly in front of her, the Phantom ruby lightly tapping her chest to give her more of a scare. Though, at this time, she had no idea what it was…

He dipped his angled mask towards her cheek. “You smell more of envy… your fear is delicious… it only proves my point.”

She shook her head, snapping herself out of it and shouted out a cry as she tried to swing her hammer into him.

He reflexed and immediately grabbed it, shoving her down and placing a foot on the hammer’s top, pressing it down on her to keep her at bay.

“…Pathetic.” He rose his head up as she struggled. “Like I once said…” he began, putting more force on the hammer as it crushed her body further into the ground.

She choked to breathe under the pressure.

“I’ll squish you like the insect you are! Just like I smashed your precious hero’s head!”

As his eyes widened, wild with bloodlust, Amy’s own emotions took over.

“NOOO!!!” she shook herself free from the hammer, causing him to stumble back.

“What?!”

She reached up and grabbed him by the phantom ruby, pulling him down as he used his hand to brace himself, but struggled under her grip. She was ripping the ruby… right out from his chest!

“Urk..!” he felt himself growing distant from its power, as she pulled him further towards her, leaning up to move her head just by his mask’s ear… mimicking his own actions…

“You wouldn’t have the guts to do it.”

He froze.

“Sonic wouldn’t die… to someone like you!” She grabbed her hammer, shoving him back, over and over; repeatedly crushing the Phantom Ruby further within him, causing some pain and damage he could hardly feel… but though the blows could barely dent him, he was still stumbling backwards at each powerful force of raw power… fueled by her emotions.

Her words were like a tranquilizer, leaving him unable to function.

“…Wouldn’t… die… from me?” he stated through blows. “Wouldn’t… die… FROM ME!?!?”

He took the last blow of her multiple strikes and held the hammer in place, causing a wind strike to launch out from the impact, like a ripple in a pond.

Now his emotions were getting the better of him…

He swung it away and gripped her throat, pulling her down before shoving her up.

“RESISTANCE!”

The whole of the battle stopped, including the Eggman robots with him, and illusions…

They turned to see Amy suffocating, and Infinite’s rage clinging to the last struggling strands of her life.

“Behold… your queen’s weakness.”

He smashed her down to the ground, causing a large amount of rock to fly everywhere from the impact.

People gasped, leaning over their defenses to see if she was okay.

The dust revealed him, steady as stone, but Amy breathing hard as he twitched loose his grip.

“…Emotion…” he turned his hand around to himself, watching it flex on its own… as if he had no control over this power.

“This isn’t the Phantom Ruby’s doing…” he placed it on his mask, realizing what it looked like. “This… is me.”

Amy coughed.

He looked down, remembering his purpose.

He removed his hand and lowered himself down to her.

First to a knee, then spread out and laid over her, since she was now a little underground level…

“Let this serve as a reenactment.” He teased, before dipping his mask to her neck, and lightly slitting some skin on her shoulder.

“Ah!” she winced.

“Your lack of self-preservation and total denial of the situation amuses me… it shows your true weakness…” he pulled back, before lifting his clawed hand and stabbing the earth near her.

To outsiders, it looked like Infinite had killed her, and they cried out in shrills and gasps, screaming her name.

“You’re wrong…” Amy barely could breath out, gripping her neck as it started to bruise.

He twitched again, “WHAT!? How are you still talking..!?”

Amy moved up, squarely to the side of his mask again, staring into his one, disbelieving eye.

“…Just like Sonic… You couldn’t kill me either.”

His eye sharpened.

He let out a crazed battle-cry, a finishing move, before Knuckles charged in and punched him off and away from her.

—

He wasn’t done with the topic of Amy so easily though…

She may have escaped that battle,… but it was out of pity… so he told himself.

Sonic was strung tightly upon a large, metal square. Hung like a symbol of defeat, Zavok triggered the electric pulse and watched him fling his head out and cry in agony.

“This… all you got?” Sonic twitched his eye as the other remained closed…

Zavok smirked before Infinite entered the torture chamber.

“He’s been up all night.” Zavok’s tail swished, and then greeted Infinite with a hand across himself, a bow without leaning forward.

“…Let’s let him feel the morning then…” Infinite looked at him… and then up at Sonic.

“Heh.” Sonic smirked, “Hey, look, Infinite! I look just… like you.”

Infinite, amused, flicked the switch and electrocuted him more.

“That will be all, Zavok. Eggman doesn’t need to know where I am. Understand?”

Zavok turned back, unsure, but nodded, before leaving the room.

“Ohh… you’re here off the grid, huh?” Sonic panted, still joking through the pain.

“…I had a run in with your friends…” Infinite walked over, glaring. “I have a question for you…”

“I’m all ears.” Sonic watched him carefully as he flew up, and unlocked his restraints.

Sonic hit the ground hard, as Infinite then rose his head, and dragged him to the window.

“So… I’m on the moon?” Sonic gripped his head where Infinite’s hold on him was, but his whole body was unable to listen to him. His nervous system shot, he could barely feel anything anymore.

His hands dropped in exhaustion and Infinite punched him back, “Just making sure.” He then shoved his head into the window.

“How does it feel? Watching them squirm and suffer without your constant encouragement for them to die in vain, Sonic?”

Sonic gritted his teeth.

“Good… you’re finally learning to listen.”

“I’m learning to ignore your bad breath.”

Infinite once again yanked him away and slammed his head into the window.

“Y…ouch…” Sonic bit back anything that could resemble a sound of pain.

“I’ll admit, you’re more durable than even Eggman could have perceived. But… I’ve something… that I think will help with your… treatment here.”

“Yeah, a real spa day.” Sonic spat out. “You’ve already confined me, forced me to watch you hurt my teams, and left me defenseless to your ‘playdates’.” He never stopped joking. “What else could you possibly-“

“She’s dead.”

Sonic remained silent, and Infinite didn’t bother to look at his reaction.

A sudden swift movement, followed by Infinite being pinned against the window occurred.

“You lying son of a-!”

“She begged me, you know.” Infinite wanted to see the hope Amy had shown in her eyes die in Sonic’s. At least that might hurt her in some way. Some way he could see through someone else. Someone she couldn’t bear to see lose faith in her.

He wanted to make a point. He wanted her to suffer. Even if that meant indirectly seeing it through the loss of her Hero’s love for her.

Sonic shook, the power he summoned to attack Infinite was only a gust of adrenaline, it wouldn’t last long…

He twitched his hurt eye open. “…I dare you to say it twice.”

Infinite chuckled, closing his eye.

Sonic slammed him once again against the window. “INFINITE!”

“She cried for your loss. Didn’t want to believe you died… so I told her…” he looked up into Sonic’s eyes.

“Make me an offer I can’t refuse… or I’ll send you to him.”

Sonic froze, his eyes widening. “You… No… Amy…” Sonic began to lose his power, shrinking it seemed, he slowly fell to his knees.

“Amy…”

Infinite moved up from against the window, wiping Sonic’s hands off of him as if dusting himself off.

“Quite a loyal lover… She wouldn’t stop fighting me till the bitter end… My last words to her were that you were still here… pity. At that moment, she said she didn’t want to believe me.”

He stepped over Sonic, restraining him again and pulling him back to his ceil.

“She really did try everything… but as most women go, you certainly had the runt of the litter.” He looked back, already having closed the door.

He thought that would finish him… but was surprised that Sonic moved up and crashed himself against the ceil.

“What..?” He had to make sure.

In absolute confounding rage, he dropped down and forced Sonic’s head up.

His eyes…

They stared straight into his.

It wasn’t hate.

It wasn’t even close.

His eyes were full of righteous belief. Of indefinite loyalty and care.

He didn’t believe a word he said.

Just like her…

Infinite growled, “Why is it… that Hedgehogs are such a nuisance?!”

“Maybe because we don’t give up on each other.” Sonic smirked, finalizing that he was right, that Infinite had lied.

“Amy wouldn’t die… Not to anyone… especially the likes of you.”

AGAIN!?

The same words?!

He crashed Sonic’s head into the ceil, causing him to cough and almost fidget, unable to get himself up again.

Infinite returned to earth, searching for her… wanting to destroy whatever power of emotion kept them so tightly tied to the belief that the other was alright.

That even he couldn’t separate them.

Infinite was obsessed with targeting Amy, torturing Sonic when he couldn’t find her and continued to feed off of this… strange… emotion…

When Sonic miraculously got away, he also heard Amy on the communicator and was glad his suspicions of Infinite trying to create miserable doubt were right. She was okay, at least, it sounded like it.

Infinite used that line to cut off communication for a moment and caressed the microphone he was using, turning away as he curled his tail up towards him.

“…Amy?”

He could hear the fuzzy disturbance.

He could hear her suck in a quick breath…

He chuckled.

“Finally… I’ve found a way to reach you…”

She didn’t speak.

“I suppose now that your hero’s back… our meeting in private isn’t going to occur any longer…” he slid his mask over the microphone, closing his eyes.

“…But I still will kill him… and then with my bare hands… take your life as well.”

He could hear Amy pull away and swallow, remaining silent.

“…I’ve missed that smell… the particular smell of your amassed fear… Won’t you let me near it again?”

“Sonic’s back… like I knew he would be. And that means… you should be the one in fear.” Amy finally spoke.

Her voice echoed through his mask and he reeled back from the mic and laughed.

It was delightful… the sound of her fear.

So she hadn’t forgotten, he gained his intimidation back instantly.

“Finally…” he whispered out, dipping his head again, “I’ve finally cracked your silence…”

“Quit it!” Amy must have grabbed her headphone mic, shaking…

“..Quit what?” Infinite decided to keep her talking, and it amused him how she tried to fight her fear…

“Quit acting like you… you want something from me!”

“Oh, but I do…” He softly spoke out, removing some of the mask to have his true voice ring through.

His mouth moved closely up to the mic.

“I want that fear to be only for me… and when it’s finally mine… the last thing you hear… is my breath taking yours away.”

The final battle proved difficult for Amy, now learning that they were merely images, she was able to fight on the battlefield again…

But she looked over her shoulder, around everyone’s shoulders, and in every direction.

Sonic was busy taking care of Infinite, but she didn’t know that…

Her anxiety spiked until she saw him streak across the sky and get absorbed by a new, giant robot that Eggman seemed to be piloting.

She felt, for the first time in a long time, a sense of relief.

But in her nightmares… she would still wake for the following months… hearing his voice… in the dead of night…

His breath upon her neck…

(I’m sorry, but you didn’t specify whether this was a ‘conform Infinite to you’ or ‘dark infinite x amy’ so I went with the latter…-twiddles fingers-)

[eurosong]

Undo my ESC - semi-final 2

Hey there, folks. Last week, I published the first part of “Undo my ESC”, a look at semi-final 1 where I took the entrants and made óne change, either minor or drastic, to make the competition better in my eyes. I didn’t need to take out my time-travelling tippex too much for the generally stellar first semi-final, but semi-final 2 is a different kettle of fish altogether. There are a few songs I don’t want to change at all but must, but a lot of songs could do with changing. As always, this is just mý take on things and written light-heartedly. (Some people always unfollow the few times I publish entries relating to my opinion - to those folks, I say, skip the read.)

Norway – We could scarcely get off to a worse start for my tastes, as this unwelcome return is a composite of so many elements that make me cringe – the music, which sounds like a jingle for a new version of Supermarket Sweep; the painfully ironic title “That’s how you write a song”; the lyrics which are nigh beyond parody for their triteness; the cheesier-than-feta visuals and choreögraphy. Nothing really lit up my world in this year’s MGP, but I would have preferred the runner-up, the new Wallmann song or even (for the sake of a guaranteed belly laugh in the final) Scandilove over this abomination.

Romania – From a song being hotly tipped to one, in the death spot, which many people assume will lead to the end of Romania’s qualification streak. Personally, I increasingly enjoy this unloved song quite a lot. It has a personal poignancy and resonance with me, reminding me of conversations with friends lost to suicide or prolonged self-destruction, trying to reach out and help them see the beautiful things in this world. There’s not much I’d change – but since Voltaj were able to do well with a bilingual version, inserting some Romanian would be my little alteration.

Serbia – I was so excited to see the return of Beovizija, and it didn’t disappoint, with a very varied show including wild dances, poignant ballads and the funkiest jazz-rap I’ve heard since Digable Planets, and áll in Serbian. As is often my jinx, most of my support went to the eventual runner up, Pesma za tebe, a gorgeous bit of Balkan blues which I prefer a lot more than the Zajdi zajdi ripoff colliding with a dance mix that ended up besting it. I would send the flawless Saška Janks instead.

San Marino – Trust San Marino to veer into the world of national finals for a bit of credibility, only to make the selection process as risible as possible. I see some value in Who we are, because the combination of its rip-off of Heroes’ chorus, the robots, the dramatic with a capital D hand gestures and the rap make me laugh hysterically. But there were far better songs – Out of the twilight being very reasonably the fans’ favourite, but a bit by the numbers for me. I actually would give the nod to IROL. People say that San Marino doesn’t have enough performers to be competitive but 8 Sammarinese artists signed up to 1in360 and they eliminated all but him. Rap turns off a lot of Eurofans almost automatically, but it would have been heart-warming for a local artist to win such a mercenary NF system.

Denmark – I suppose, if for nothing else, Denmark deserve some props for consistency. How can a country that brought us such mould-busting entries as Disco-Tango, Fra Mols til Skagen and Dansevise be so consistently bland for several years? I don’t dislike Higher Ground, but it feels like an empty attempt to create a tune for a soundtrack for a hokey straight-to-video movie. I’d improve it by translating it into Old Norse.

Russia – On the one hand, I’m glad Russia stuck to their promise to Julia to bring her back for 2018. On the other hand, I disliked Flame is burning, and hate I won’t break even more (except for the hilarious “becoming a mountain” scene at the end of the music video) and so, if I had the liberty, would go back to 2017 and avoid the provocative gambit that led to her having been selected. If not, I would simply give her a song to sing in Russian as she seems rather more confident with her mother tongue.

Moldova – My word, talk about picking one of the worst songs out of a generally terrible selection. Moldova’s song this year is an infernal throwback to the darkest days of the contest. Its dirty trumpet riff pulsates like a bad headache as the most awkward ménage-à-trois partners this side of the Volga plough their way through some bizarre lyrics. I don’t want to subject myself to listening to the Melodie pentru Europa finalists again, but I’m sure I remember there being something better…

Netherlands – It says something about both this year and the artistry of Waylon that even one of my lesser favoured tracks amongst those he presented for consideration is amongst my top anyway. I’ve come to love Outlaw in ‘em as one of the few upbeat tracks that make me want to dance rather than make me deeply irritated, and I love the lyrical message of everyone finding the strength to be their own person and stand up for themselves. However, I lóve the melancholy and yet equally rousing Thanks but no thanks even more and would have picked it for ESC.

Australia – Four years after their supposedly one-off participation in the contest, and a year after they were sent into the final by the juries despite rightfully getting slated by the public vote, Australia are still here, somehow. There was word of them organising a national final, which could indeed have been an interesting show. Instead, they’ve gone with something so bland that it is nigh offensive, crowned by lyrics that are merely a string of platitudes. When Australia have such a rich musical scene, it’s a crying shame to send something so generic.

Georgia – I’m delighted that Georgia is sending its first song fully in their language, thus overshadowing the couple of lines in Georgian at the start of the hideous I’m a joker several years ago. It’s very authentic and showcases both beautiful vocals and great musicianship. My one worry is that it may seem a bit one-note to some people and fail to qualify – I might try to make a bit more contrast between the verses and chorus.

Poland – A cut-price Alexander Wallman with his cringey uncle behind him throwing shapes whilst pretending to mix, to the musical backdrop that sounds like a knockout coke advert jingle. Not really a recipe for success in my eyes, but somehow this won the Polish national contest. This is background music at best, like much of the songs in Krajowe Eliminacje this year. The only one that didn’t just bleed into those surrounding it for me was Ifi Ude’s Love is stronger; not typically my cup of tea, but a very striking composition and, in my eyes, the most likely of the entire selection to stand out.

Malta – Whilst Denmark provide a heady dose of beigeness from the north, Malta compete with them in the generic national selections stakes from the south. And how can a country where English is spoken natively alongside Maltese consistently come to the contest with criminally, almost laughably bad lyrics, like that of the winner, Taboo? I’d pick Song for dad over it – at least its lyrics were simple but earnest.

Hungary – I’ve come to really enjoy Viszlát nyár, the raw and emotional lyrics and performance and the big personalities of the lads in AWS, especially Aron and Soma trolling Wiwibloggs a few days ago! I do think there were potentially better picks, though – notably Azt mondtad and, for something also on the heavier side, Nem szól harang.

Latvia – This is a hard one. I really do love the sultry yet pensive Funny Girl and can see why Latvia were wowed by Laura’s convincing performance. It is one of my favourites this year – but I must admit to loving Madara’s Esamība even more for its delightfully ethereal feeling that never fails to send shivers down my spine.

Sweden – It’s long become a tradition for me to see a song or songs in Melodifestivalen that I wóúld have considered in my top 10 had it won, but instead it loses to something completely odious for me. Even in this pretty poor year, there were a few songs I think were a lot more interesting, like Dotter’s “Cry”, the woefully undervalued veteran Kikki’s “Osby Tennessee”, but I think my change would be for the runner up to take the winner’s place. Felix Sandman’s poignant Every single day has outperformed the ungodly Bieber-Timberlake hybrid that spawned Dance you off in the Swedish music charts, and I truly do thing it was a case of the better song being bested by the flashier show.

Montenegro – Inje was by far the best of Crna Gora’s short but sweet national selection, and I am over the moon that the country is returning to what has best served it at Eurovision and bringing back the Balkan ballad style that recent years have been sadly bereft of. There is really little I would change, but I’d want to ensure an eye-catching presentation that brings the story of the song to life as well as the music video did.

Slovenia – My initial reaction to Slovenia’s song was “hvala ne” (no thanks.) I found it really obnoxious on first (and second, third, etc) listen – I am really no fan of songs that have no real chorus. Over time, I’ve come to enjoy it as something rather different to the field, but I still would send the stirring V nebo instead.

Ukraine – I know Mélovin has many fans, but his song does little for me. It’s a low-key attempt at an anthemic song that doesn’t really get off the ground for me. That is not helped by the fact that you can (and we have!) asked a few dozen people to listen to it and because of his alien pronunciation, get a few dozen different “interpretations” of the original Mélovinese lyrics. The funky, soulful, playful, melancholy and yet still upbeat Lelja getting pipped to the selection was one of the biggest robberies of the entire year for me!

And the automatic qualifiers in this round:

France – I really do like “Mercy”. Great storytelling, musically very well produced and “Madame” has a lovely voice. The quality of France’s return to national finals, though, was such that it was not my favourite. I think the even more French flavoured efforts that were the heartbreaking, spellbinding, classic Tu me manques and Lisboa, Jerusalem were even better picks. I also loved the almost psychedelic feel of Ciao. Keep this standard up next year, mes amis !

Germany – Well done to Germany for jettisoning the absolutely torturous national final procedure they had last year, where they eliminated two people off the basis off completely unrelated covers and then we heard the same two songs performed over and over again for the rest of the night by 3 people. However, there was not a great leap in terms of quality to match. I preferred “You and I”, but Michael Schulte’s was probably the best song on the night. I fear could be easily forgettable amongst 25 other songs. My change would be to try to make the choruses a little more dynamic.

Italy – Italy hardly ever put a foot out of step at this contest, and that’s in part thanks to the grand tradition that is San Remo, which has even more prestige than ESC itself in the country. There were dozens of great songs in San Remo, but Non mi avete fatto niente, an effecting song with a very strong message, was one of the best for me. My only worry is that the frenetic, breathless pace seems to alienate some listeners – if I had to make a change (as is the premise with this conceit), I may cut one or two repetitions of the chorus and slow down the thunderous, impactful but perhaps sometimes alienating delivery of words just a tad. So those were my thoughts on how I’d change this year’s ESC if I had to make one change. I’m intrigued at what other folks would come up with in this scenario, too!

[pinkipie100]

Hi there. I read your analysis about The Voltron Show and I really liked it! At one point in that analysis, you mentioned that you feel the Voltron fandom is too quick to feel offended over how Hunk is portrayed in the show. Do you think it's possible that you could elaborate on that, if you wanted? And do you feel that this "overly-sensitive attitude" within the fandom extends to Lance's portrayal in the show as well?

Me? 27000 years late to an ask? HA HA HA!

…Always. Sorry, @thenorthernphoenix, I’ve been absent for quite a while, and I totally forgot my askbox was a thing.

Anyway, a thousand times thank you for reading my meta! To answer your question, and I may receive a lot of heat for this, but I think the Voltron crew have handled Hunk’s portrayal well, actually, and I’ll explain why. Hopefully concisely. Definitely not concisely.

First of all, Hunk is fat. Can we just… admit that? He’s fat. THAT IS OKAY. THAT IS SO OKAY. In fact, I think it’s important for boys who are also overweight to see. They need to know that they can still be the hero, despite their size. I know that a lot of the body positivity schtick has to do with encouraging women to feel comfortable with their bodies regardless of weight, but it’s really important for men, as well! Men probably have a tough time dealing with their body image because they’re expected not to care, but they’re also expected to simultaneously having ridiculously hypermasculine, ripped bodies, or they’re not really ‘a man,’ you know? But if people see Hunk and realize that this guy, yes, is overweight, but still kicks ass and is even the strongest paladin [stronger than Shiro!], that’ll give them just the encouragement they need. [Plus, Hunk is really f*ckin’ hot.]

Second of all, HUNK LIKES FOOD A F*CKING LOT. CAN WE ALSO ACKNOWLEDGE THIS?!?!?! Okay, I apologize, I’m getting heated… I just notice that people get extremely angry when Hunk is shown going crazy over food. I just… Of course he will act that way around food, he’s a foodie! Is it funny? Yeah. Does that mean we’re supposed to respect him any less? Of course not! Look, I’m not overweight, but I’m still a foodie! I, in fact, may or may not love food a bit too much in the most weird of ways! [-Food fetish much, Pinki? -Shut the fuh!] I honestly find it laughably relatable when Hunk drools at the sight of a delicious-looking hors d’oeurvre, or climbs over the invisible maze’s walls to get to a fine alien pastry! Like, f*cking me too, Hunk! I don’t know, maybe I’m being insensitive and stupid, but I don’t view Hunk as any less of a character because he’s very food-crazy. Last time I checked, though, no one was up in arms about Po using food to motivate him to become the Dragon Warrior.

I get it, this is just my own opinion. I like to believe that I’m being sensible, though. I’ll admit that, yes, the food jokes get a little old sometimes, but hey, they are still tasteful [dammit… I… I swear I didn’t mean to pun there]. Hunk is always depicted as a master of his craft, educated in the ways of the kitchen. He doesn’t just make junk food, either, he can cook meats; pastas; god forbid, vegetables! Take a look at any other kid’s show, and tell me if you find a fat character who is treated respectfully by their friends like Hunk, is as intelligent as Hunk, and is as three-dimensional as Hunk. Seriously, lemme know, I think I’d give the show a try, if that’s the case.

*whispers* Am I getting long-winded yet…

Okay, now for the second part of your question, I could go on for days about how the fandom basically becomes a volatile gershderned cult when it comes to Lance. The fandom is sensitive about Hunk’s portrayal, no doubt, no doubt- but when it comes to Lance, oh ho, they take it to an entirely new level!

Violent discourse has broken out surrounding Lance’s race, sexuality, mental state, personality, and hell, even his g*ddamn last name! I’m not at all ashamed to say, all of it has been bullsh*t. The f*ckers Lance stans of this fandom will only accept Lance one way, and that seems to be as a 100000% Cuban, 0.00000% American, Not Straight™, mentally unstable, delicately insecure flower that a) must be protected at all costs and b) crying 24/7 unless Keith is there to comfort him. Any time the show contradicts this, it’s the executive producers’ heads.

Voltron Fandom, come close… gather round the fire… I’m about to clear a few things up for you:

One, Lance is a Lady’s Man. YEAH, I SAID IT, AND I WOULD 100% SWOON IF HE USED A PICKUP LINE ON ME, SO FIGHT ME! Heh, but seriously, he likes women. And, you know what? Women like him! Almost every time he flirts with a woman, she shows interest back! …save Allura, but I think we can tell from Lance’s vlog that it’s because he genuinely likes her and doesn’t really know how else to approach her. Does that mean he’s straight? Uh oh… Uh oh… UH OH! IT MIGHT! Well, it might not. He could still be bisexual with a preference for women, which I honestly buy a lot more than him being flamboyantly attracted to both sexes. We can’t assume nothin’ until it’s outright stated, but until then, the fandom needs to be aware that Lance’s actual sexuality is pretty much up in the air.

B, Lance is Cuban. I love this about him, but when people start to throw sh*t when people headcanon him as mixed or possibly born in America or having a Western last name, it kind of ticks me off. Like, what’s wrong with being a little bit white? Does that diminish the value he may have of his Cuban roots? I’m mostly white, but does that make me not give a sh*t about my Chamorro heritage? Of course not! My mom has a Western maiden name, but that doesn’t mean she’s not Chamorro, too! If Lance had a Cuban last name, that’s so great! If he has a Western name, it’s not ‘giving in to the White Man.’ It’s probably just the result of some intermixing with Western people somewhere along his family line, and it could have been generations ago, anyway. About him being Cuban-American… Look, I think Americans can be pretty sh*tty and our country is f*cked up, but I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. So there’s absolutely nothing wrong with Lance being American-born and proud to be it.

III, stop. Making. Lance. Helpless. Nnkey? I like Langst. I do. But please, administer it in moderation! Write/draw it sensibly! I’m incredibly tired of seeing Lance portrayed by fans as some unstable, immature, dependent crybaby who is unable to control his emotions or stand without the constant support of a Love Interest™ [it’s usually Keith, and as a stalwart Laith shipper, I am sick of this]. I think that, even beginning from the S1-S2 hiatus, the fandom read a bit too deeply into Lance’s impending insecurity arc, and we all got so hyped up to see it, we were disappointed when it wasn’t immediately addressed. I’ve probably said it a thousand times, but once more, with feeling: Lance’s arc will be slow-burn. We’ll get snippets of his insecurities here and there, just breadcrumbs that will lead up to the climax of his arc, and it’ll be awesome. But, the fandom needs to have patience until then. I hold faith upon faith in the creators, especially Joaquim dos Santos [Mr. Lance-Is-My-Favorite-Paladin himself], to deliver a delicately laid story unfolding around Lance that we will all love once complete, and wonder why we were ever upset.

In conclusion, I very much agree that the fandom is WAY too overly sensitive about how Lance is portrayed in-canon, and it’s actually warping their perceptions of reality. They think that they’re the only ones who know what Lance is really like, and that the writers of the actual g*ddamn show are ‘doing it wrong.’ In the show, Lance is friendly, dorky, funny, cocky, emotionally mature, perceptive, and realistic. Fanon Lance is emotionally unstable, dependent, unconfident, incapable, tortured, bullied, and underrated by his teammates. This is not to say that Canon Lance isn’t insecure and somewhat misunderstood by his friends, but he is mature in managing those insecurities and confiding in others [e. g. seeking solace with Keith, believing in Allura]. I just think Lance is a LOT tougher than his stans give him credit for, and I really love that about his arc; he won’t have to be that tough forever, and when he finally lets his barriers down, it is gonna be. Just what the doctor ordered.

ANYWHALE! I apologize for writing basically another meta in response to your ask, especially considering you sat through my whole ‘Voltron Show’ meta! I am so glad you asked, though. I know my wording here is very strong, but I think it’s better for me to be analytically bold than to be apologetically opinionated.

Seriously, thanks again for reading the meta and facilitating discussion about it; you’re an absolute dream! Sorry for being late to answer, and enjoy the rest of your ventures through fandom and meta thereupon!

[alo-piss-trancy]

do you have any yj omo hcs

HECK YEAH I SURE DO BUDDY I LIVE IN YJ HELL

If you search my blog for the ‘youngjustpiss’ tag you can find more content (including an old headcanon post I did for s1 characters)! So since I already did them, I’ll do a few new s2 chars this time around (just the ones I’m most familiar with, since some new members like La'g/aan and Cassie barely had any focus)! These will just be basic headcanons, but I’d be glad to go into more detail if anyone has specific bits they’d like expanded upon!

Jaime a.k.a. Bl/ue Be/etle: My fav concept is the idea of him having an accident while in uniform but the scarab is like 'oh fuck no i didn’t sign up for getting drenched in your excrement’ and just retreats before it gets wet SO HIS IDENTITY IS REVEALED IN PUBLIC and he now has to deal with the added panic of that on top of pissing himself RIP. As for more general hcs, I doubt he has any kind of piss kink (but would be willing to try it out for a partner), average bladder strength, not shy about telling ppl if he needs to go but he takes it kind of personally if he were to lose control in front of the team or a friend (just bc he wants to prove he can be a hero like the stronger/more experienced members and is worthy of the scarab so it makes him feel kind of pathetic+typical embarrassment).

Bart a.k.a Imp/ulse: Like the other speedsters, his increased body needs mean he has to stay extra hydrated and processes things much quicker, leading to desperation in rather short spans of time. This isn’t usually a problem though, since he can dart off and return to his task/location even more quickly than Wally, and he actually has pretty high control on top of that. The only incident of note was when he was first exploring the city, since he didn’t know what ancient symbols the bathrooms of this time period had, and he probably lost control trying to locate them. Blue helped him out the next time and taught him which signs to look for. If he loses control in front of the team he’ll laugh it off and seemingly doesn’t care, but deep down it stirs up a lot of old doubts. Most likely to help cheer someone else up if they lose control. Not exactly kinky, but down to try anything once when he’s older.

Tim a.k.a Ro/bin: Much more mature than Dick was at his age and less shy about it, so if he’s absolutely dying he’s fine with just whipping it out in a secluded place if they’re on a mission. If it’s in a social setting though (esp if he’s talking with one of the experienced heroes like Nigh/twin/g) he won’t breathe a word of his predicament bc he wants to prove he’s mature enough to speak with them and give his input (probably strategy or detective advice since he’s the smartest one). His blood runs on coffee so he actually gets desperate a lot, he’s just not very animated and will just calmly excuse himself or stay still and suffer in agonized silence if he can’t leave. Has a tendency to dart off to the bathroom at the last second if he gets caught up in his work, but he’s usually pretty good about going before missions. Sometimes he holds a bit too long on dates with Cassie bc she’s got ridiculous endurance, she finds his subtle squirming cute though and just drags him off to the bathroom before he risks losing it.

Bum/bleb/ee: She’s a big workaholic and tends to hold it for a while, but she’s also mature enough to take breaks before it becomes too much of a distraction instead of dying in her seat to finish looking through her microscope. Stronger than average bladder, but for some reason her strength doesn’t remain proportional when she shrinks, it actually gets weaker than usual. Even though she’s good at preparing, she sometimes ends up nearly dancing by the time a mission ends if it was short-notice. Usually views desperation as a typical inconvenience, but in sexual settings she sometimes finds it a bit of a turn on (one that’s she’s not bashful about, but openly discussed with her boyfriend in a serious talk). She doesn’t enjoy wetting though. Doesn’t get too embarrassed if she loses it in front of the team bc the mission was obv more important, but in civilian form she’d be pretty mortified for a while.

[sarcasmnymph-blog]

Beowulf: The Original Gary Sue

Beowulf. Ah isn’t he just the best! He is so great in fact that he single-handedly (sort of) inspired the most amazing parts of The Lord of the Rings and Skyrim. However, despite its legacy and the fact that it is the oldest “English” text in existence, Beowulf is a very simple story. Or at least simple by epic poetry standards, just look at The Odyssey. And that is because a lot of its text is just ramblings of the Kings, lineages, politics and just exposition dump. (I guess in that sense it really is a high fantasy story) However, once you get rid of all of the fluff, it is a story about how a guy defeated three monsters, becomes a King on the way and had the most rad funeral ever. However, despite how great the exposition is, I will be skipping most of that dump mainly for this summary because well… it adds nothing to the actual story. I will add details where necessary. Let’s begin!

Quest #1 Grendel the Giant

So our story starts with King Hrothgar of Denmark, the son of King Shield Sheafson. The King enjoys an excellent long successful reign. So successful in fact that he decides to build a great mead-hall called the Heorot where his warriors can come and party it up, get gifts, drink. You know basic Nordic stuff. Now the Heorot being the ultimate party place is not very nice to live next to. Especially not for a grumpy giant like our friend Grendel. Since there was no police at the time to shut your noisy neighbors up, Grendel comes up with the only logical solution to this conundrum: Murder! Grendel comes every night to kill the people in Heorot to send them a message. However, again these are Norsemen we are talking about, so they continue partying it up and decide to try and fight the giant to stop him. However, after many nights of murder and party and murder and again partying our hero eventually enters the story.

Our hero Beowulf hears the plight of the people of Denmark and inspired by the challenge of fighting a Giant and decides to ride there with some men and defeat the Giant. King Hrothgar who had connections with Beowulf’s father accepts Beowulf’s help and holds a feast for Beowulf’s honor. Cause partying before killing a Giant that is killing you for partying too much is the best plan of action. On top of this fabulous party plan, Beowulf has an even better plan. You see, giants aren’t warriors and don’t use weapons so it stands to reason that Beowulf shouldn’t use any armor or weapons either. This fantastic plan makes everyone in the party even more excited for this future sparring match. However, a man named Unferth has doubts about Beowulf’s capabilities. Inconceivable! You see, sometime in the past Beowulf lost a swimming match with Breca and Unferth has a hard time believing that a loser like Beowulf could defeat the Giant. And Beowulf accepts that despite going through the water for five days and five nights in armor he couldn’t beat Breca as Beowulf got distracted by the eight sea monsters he defeated. What a shame!

At last, after getting sick of all the drinking and cheering Grendel decides to enter for the showdown. The two have a fist match until Beowulf proves himself the stronger fighter. Beowulf with his own bare arms tears of Grendel’s entire arm from his body. Grendel mortally wounded, walks back to his swamp to die alone as his arm gets hung from the top of the mead-hall as a trophy. What an honorable victory! Everyone cheers for their new hero. Unferth admits that he made a mistake by doubting Beowulf and gives Beowulf a cool power-up sword called Hrunting, a sword that has never failed in a battle. (Spoiler Alert: The sword fails in battle)

Quest #2 Grendel’s mother

I guess Grendel didn’t die all alone after all Since a fantasy story without a revenge subplot can’t exist and Grendel’s mother decides to get some age-old retribution against the Danes. Grendel’s mom (from here on out “Lady Giant”) enters the Heorot and kills Aeschere, one of Hrothgar’s trusted advisers. She also steals the trophy arm and returns home. I am sure that how no one heard the Giant sneak in, kill a man and also take a famous trophy is subject to much scholarly debate. However, that is not our concern as King Heorot once again summons Beowulf and his men to go and have some vengeance against the Lady Giant for taking revenge against them.

As our brave heroes ride following the tracks of their enemy they come across and cliff and find Aeschere’s head lying on the ground. Below the cliff is your generic RPG monster swamp. Time for Beowulf to grind some EXP as he jumps into the swamp with no fear of death and defeats all the monsters with a bow and arrow and sinks deeper into the swamp. Now you would think that this would lead to Beowulf drowning and dying of suffocation, but if so you apparently haven’t been paying attention. A little swamp in the lungs only slowly bores Beowulf who simply slowly sinks down to the bottom, probably checks twitter a few times. As he reaches the bottom, the Lady Giant ambushes him and drag him into her cave.

Beowulf, enters another epic showdown, this time with the Lady Giant. He tries to use the sword Hrunting against her but fails. Even the legendary sword is no match for the Giantess. So much for a sword that has never failed in battle. Beowulf decides to resort to the bare arm ripping trick but fails that too as the Lady Giant matches his every blow. However, since this is a hero story, Beowulf finds a conveniently placed sword, made conveniently by Giants. He uses the conveniently massive sword and swings it at the Giantess and kills her. It turns out both Grendel and his mother were incapable of being harmed by human weapons, so a sword made by Giants was the only way to kill her. Oh, and the sword was also conveniently one-time use only and after slicing the Giantess’ head, it melts leaving just the hilt. Beowulf grabs the handle and the Grendel’s face which was in the Lady Giant’s cave and swims back up.

Our heroes return to the mead-hall in triumph and the Danes party it up one last time. King Heorot who has practically adopted Beowulf as his son by this point gives a mighty speech about how great Beowulf will be and how to be a good King and warrior. King Heorot tells his subjects that the only way to greatness is to pursue spiritual over the earthly things. He tells everyone how eternal rewards are much more fruitful than materialistic rewards and then gives Beowulf some gold and materialistic treasures as a reward. Yay! Beowulf is thoroughly satisfied and done with all the partying returns to Geatland when he reunites with his King Hygelac and tells the King of his adventures in Denmark. Beowulf presents his King with most of the treasures he earned in his Giant killing Quests. In time the King Hygelac dies in a battle against the Shylfings, and the kingdom falls to Beowulf because King Hygelac’s widow thinks that Beowulf is just the best. Since Beowulf is just the best, he decides only to be the protector of the actual heir. But the heir dies anyway, and Beowulf becomes the King. Such is Destiny.

Quest #3 Dragon Slaying

King Beowulf being the amazing King he rules the Geats for fifty years wisely and righteously. King Beowulf even manages to stop the war with the Swedes by avenging King Hygelac. However, we still need Beowulf to finish one more Quest. Hence, a thief manages to find his way into the hoarding place of a Dragon and makes the smart decision of stealing a shiny gem studded goblet from let me remind you a Dragon! When the Dragon realizes that he is missing one cup from his gigantic heaps of gold, the Dragon gets furious and comes once again at the only logical conclusion: Murder! The Dragon decides rain fire on everything in his path until he finds the thief and his precious cup. Perfectly Rational. Hmm… I wonder why does this look familiar? *cough* The Hobbit *cough*

Eventually, the fire-breathing dragon starts tormenting, you guessed it, King Beowulf’s Kingdom. Beowulf takes twelve good men and starts investigating and finds the thief that caused this entire menace. Our set of heroes ask the thief to take them to the Dragon’s burrow. Now you would think that the smart way out is to give the dragon the thief and the goblet and make peace. Well, then you haven’t been paying attention, because of course not. The right thing to do is fight the Dragon. However, even Beowulf realizes that unlike the giants Beowulf can’t just wrestle the dragon and hence takes his armor and a shiny sword named Naegling with him to the burrow and challenges the Dragon.

Beowulf fights bravely even at his old age while his companions run for the hills after watching the fire-breathing dragon cause apparently they didn’t read the Quest description. The only man who stays is a young chap named Wiglaf. While fighting the dragon, Beowulf’s sword shatters cause swords are basically tissue paper in this universe. Wiglaf runs to aid Beowulf who is mildly inconvenienced by the Dragon’s fire. However, as soon as Wiglaf rushes in Beowulf get’s bit by the dragon on his neck. Now you would think that a gaping neck wound would make Beowulf succumb and die. Well of course not! As the fight rages on Wiglaf stabs the Dragon in his belly, the only place with no dragon scales. Beowulf finishes the battle by stabbing the dragon with a Deus ex machina knife and our two heroes triumph.

Now you would think that all the blood loss would kill Beowulf. Are you kidding me? Obviously no. Dragon venom, on the other hand, does start killing Beowulf. Now Beowulf being the benevolent, non-materialistic king that he is, asks Wiglaf to bring a piece of the treasure he just won as his last wish. Beowulf looks at the shiny gold he just won and makes Wiglaf the King since Beowulf in his fifty years of being an excellent King didn’t manage to get laid, somehow. Then he asks that they make him the most bad-ass funeral by making him a burrow and then our hero dies. The Geats then host a huge funeral pyre and bury the new found treasure with his body in the burrow.

The End

As you can see at the heart of it, Beowulf is a rather simple story about a man and some monster slaying. However, despite its simplicity it has inspires many stories. Hell, a character is named after Beowulf in even Frank Herbert’s Dune Cycle, the most sci-fi of the sci-fi novels of its time. Tolkien has very openly admitted his inspiration from the classic, and hence every story that followed Tolkien’s footsteps has been inspired by Beowulf to an extent. Say what you want about the character of Beowulf or the story, but you can’t deny that it inspired a legacy of work including most of the high fantasy we see today. Without its influences, Fantasy literature wouldn’t be what it is today, and for that, we have only one person to thank. The amazing Beowulf himself!

[beastingtm]

                     OVERVIEW :: SEASON TWO

TN: Spoilers ahead, obviously. This is an overview of the main events and points happening through season two of the TV series. Its main purpose is reminding me of what happened, and offering the people who want to write with me an insight on Vincent so that they can more or less get an idea of the setting a thread could take place in, since not a lot of people are familiar with the source material. The show canon will be used for any crossover with a fandom I’m not familiar with or don’t have a verse for yet. In these crossovers, it’s most important to me that Muirfield, Catherine Chandler and J.T. stick around, since they’re the largest pillars of Vincent life. I can be more flexible about the rest. If this sparks questions with you, you’re free to come and ask me!

This same information can be found on the about tab on my blog.

Vincent re-surfaces in New York three months after he was captured, and Catherine tracks him down. They find him stuck in a plot where he is captured by the creator of Muirfield. With the help of J.T. and Gabe Lowan, they manage to find him and notice something's changed about Vincent. His beast-senses have been modified in order to make him stronger and more lethal, with a focus on an assassin's skillset. And on top of it all, they must learn that Vincent's memory has been wiped out. Vincent manages to brush off his former friends to continue the mission they had come to disturb. Taking orders from his handler, his new purpose is to track and take down other beasts.

Despite everything, Vincent finds himself returning to Catherine from time to time. Even though he has lost all memory of her, she's still keen on winning him back one way or another. By that time, she's learned about his missions and ends up getting hurt by Vincent when she tried to gain more information about it. Seeking out J.T. to confess what he'd done to her, Vincent learns a few things about their former relationship he decides to use on Catherine in order to earn a second chance with her. Catherine suspects he's onto her with a lie instead, and Vincent doesn't get to prove himself to her until he ends up saving her on a mission. This, eventually, does trigger old memories at last.

With his memories returning to him, it becomes easier for Vincent to reunite with the others. Gabriel, who has lost his own beast-side after having been reanimated in the past, suggest they try it on one of the beasts Vincent is supposed to track down in order to figure out if it could work on Vincent as well. When Keller tracks down the other beast, he ends up getting knocked out in a burning building. He's admitted to the hospital where two arson officers come to question him. When Vincent learns one of the officers is his nephew Aaron Keller, he gets more flashbacks of his past and his family. He decides to help (and later on rescue) Aaron on an investigation that would lead him into the hands of the beast Vincent was tracking down.

When Catherine is attacked by a beast, Vincent is reunited with a soldier in his unit who had been presumed dead, just like Vincent. Though, Vincent is forced to kill Zach when he turns out to still be set on killing Catherine in order to settle an old score with Vincent, who he accuses of having taken his girlfriend from him back when they were in service.

With two beasts left to track, Vincent is sent to the penthouse of a high-profile businessman named Curt Windsor. However, Curt proves to be much stronger than Vincent, who chooses to save Curt's daughter Tori from her father when he tries to attack her. With Tori in safety, Vincent and the others agree to use her in an attempt to trap her father in order to get the beast out of him. Curt agrees, because it's his only way of getting his daughter back. When Curt attacks Vincent, Keller is forced to beast out in self-defense. He rips out Windsor's heart, instantly killing him.

Vincent's last mission turns out to be himself. This leads him to the decision to track down his handler with the help of J.T. and the others. When they find a lead to the FBI, they decide that Catherine and Vincent should spend Thanksgiving with her father (who works with the Bureau) in order to find out more. When Gabe and Tori appear, things go wrong once both Vincent and Tori reveal their beast sides. Vincent's senses are amplified by Tori, who wasn't aware of her beast side until then. With this shocking revelation, Vincent receives the order to kill Tori which leads him to find out Cahterine's father is his handler. While Catherine wants to arrest him, Vincent wants to kill him. Vincent listens to Tori when she tells him he should just go after his handler and not listen to Catherine. When their paths cross, Catherine is forced to shoot Vincent in order to save her father and have him incarcerated instead. Cat and Vincent's paths now run apart, and Vincent fins an opportunity to bond with Tori.

Vincent went into hiding after being shot. Tori takes care of him, as he refuses to go to a hospital out of fear of being exposed. Though he is forced to be admitted by Catherine after he came to the rescue when she and Tori had been blackmailed by beast hunters. With encouragement from Tori, Vincent comes forward and reveals himself to the press after having been admitted to the hospital. This gains him popularity as a war hero, but he doesn't enjoy the attention that comes with it. Instead, Vincent decides to focus on the shackle Tori and Catherine had found before they had been blackmailed by the hunters. They learn there is a gem to fit with the shackle, and that it creates a beast collar that can control beasts.

In order to lure out the beast hunters, Vincent purposely goes public with Tori as she wears the gem. The FBI gets onto them, and arrests Tori for theft. Vincent's path is brought back to Catherine once he learns the gem is connected to her ancestor. It puts an end to their animosity and they choose to instead work together in order to retrieve the gem that was stolen from them during a desperate heist by the beast hunters. This causes friction between Tori and Vincent.

J.T. gets kidnapped and Vincent finds out they are trying to capture a beast. Despite the warniings, he decides to track down his friend to a dungeon, but discovers that Tori also has been captured. She had her blood taken in order for a beast serum to be made, and could no longer be saved. Vincent feels guilty and responsible for her death and realizes he's been more beast than man all this time.

The attempt to track down the person who ordered J.T. to create the beast serum leads Vincent and Catherine towards Gabe, who was eventually set up by a scientist who had been set up by the same people who had set up J.T. in order to create a serum. It is the start of friction between Vincent and Gabe, who now is romantically involved with Catherine, for who Vincent still has feelings. He's willing to redeem himself to her to prove he's more man than beast.

Catherine and Vincent track down the scientist and learn that he is injecting people with a beast serum. He selects his victims carefully, which proves to Keller and Chandler that there is a gene that makes people change into beasts when injected with the serum. People without the gene will die when injected. When Vincent manages to track down a beast, he is defeated because he was hesitant to use his beast side because he wants to change for Catherine. When Vincent encounters the beast a second time, he is able to save him by reanimating him. Vincent hopes he could convince Catherine he's changed, but she remains with Gabe.

Their search for the scientist brings Vincent, Gabe and Cat to a masquerade ball where a secret group involved with Muirfield had gathered. When Catherine and Vincent can prevent the scientist from murdering the whole group, Vincent manages to convince him to help them put the group behind bars rather than kill them. Realizing Vincent has changed, Catherine decides to break up with Gabe.

When Vincent is arrested for the murder on Curt Windsor, Catherine suspects Gabe set Keller up out of jealousy. Vincent wants to protect Catherine by pleading guilty, but Catherine wishes to come forward as a witness to claim it was self-defense. To prevent this, Vincent deliberately starts a fight to get hurt in jail, so that he could escape from the hospital transport.

Catherine finds the fugitive Vincent on her rooftop, where he comes to say goodbye. Catherine then decides to run away with Vincent. Before they can escape, though, the police surround her place, and Catherine tells Vincent to go alone because she'll slow him down and he'll get caught. He leaves, but promises to come back for Catherine. His path soon returned to her when Catherine is missing. Vincent eventually tracks Catherine down, and finds out Catherine was taken by FBI agents who want her and Vincent's help to find an agent abducted by a terrorist cell. If they can save the agent, Vincent would be exonerated, though Gabe managed to block the attempt and Vincent is forced to go back into hiding.

Vincent and the team come up with a plot to get Gabe to back off and dig up an old murder case. When Gabe realizes they're onto him, he decides to counter them with a cold case himself. Vincent and Catherine's case comes to a hold after their only witness was killed by Gabe. In their attempt to find the body and expose Gabe for this new murder, Vincent is recognized on the street, and both of them are forced to go into witness relocation. During their absence, Gabe has lost all control and went insane over losing Catherine.

Returning back from witness relocation, Vincent is offered a second attempt at exoneration, but he needs to turn himself in. Vincent agrees, but is confronted by a reported planted by Gabe, who speaks up about his mutated DNA and him being a super soldier. She is shut down, and Vincent gets incarcerated. While in his cell, Vincent is approached by two agents who claim to work for the FBI. This was a setup. Vincent finds them watching Gabe's flat. He doesn't trust them and his attempt to escape was fruitless due to a tranquilizer bracelet that had been put on him. When Vincent wakes up, he learns that they were watching Gabe because he's a threat. Vincent offers to neutralize the threat in exchange that he is set free.

Gabe is threatened by Catherine, who tells him she will expose him if he ever tries to hurt Vincent again -- and Vincent learns that the men who had taken him from his cell have exonerated him, but that they have also taken a blood sample from him.

Gabe is targeted when the reported he'd planted at Vincent's press conference was murdered when she got her hard torn out. J.T. manages to figure out Gabe was able to become a beast again by injecting himself with one of the serums J.T. was forced to create. Vincent learns that Gabe is out to hurt everyone Keller holds dear. When J.T. is attacked by Gabe, Vincent decides to go after him on his own, but Catherine convinces him not to do so. They set up a plot and manage to trap Gabe, but before he can be arrested by the police he's killed by Catherine in self-defense. J.T. survives his attack as he was saved by the same agents who got Vincent out of jail. They come forward to Vincent and offer him and Catherine a chance in their investigation on beasts, and things far worse.