And we talk of gods and monsters please? 👀👀👀
“You,” Yang snarls, fingers gripping his yukata and slamming him against the wall; Qrow’s on his feet abruptly, but too unnerved to stop her. Adam’s smile is already curved cruelly. Her entire body trembles with the stress of reigning herself in. “You sick fucking bastard--”
“Yang, hold on a minute--” Qrow tries to say, reaching out.
“No, let her,” Adam says, voice agonizingly calm. “Clearly there’s something important Yang needs to discuss with me.”
“She was a child,” Yang hisses, shoving him harder, eyes wild and fiery. Something calls deep in her heart, but it’s too distant for her to hear anymore. “She was fourteen and you were nineteen. How dare you--”
“Her soul isn’t,” Adam murmurs, smirk still grotesquely twisted. “Her blood isn’t. She’s mine, Yang; you all are, and I can do whatever I want with you. You belong to me.” He laughs once, loud and cold, and Yang’s fists tighten. “I did the Cat a favor. Nobody would ever have loved that monster.”
“I would’ve!” Yang screams furiously, pulls back her fist, flexing her fingers; Qrow’s stare follows the precarious threat of her hand. “I did, I did, I do!”