#although they damn well need to learn to point their points at the opponent not the ceiling

[heliads]

there's things i want to say to you

No one on this earth can get under your skin quite like Lando Norris. It would take something insane for you to be able to move past that. Maybe realizing that Lando's crazy for you would do the trick.

masterlistT

You have one mission for this particular race weekend, one mission alone, and that is to not mess up. On the track, off the track. Don’t fuck it up. This isn’t unusual by any means– flying around corners and down straights at such tumultuous speeds typically means you aren’t angling to make any mistakes anyway, but this weekend in particular needs to be perfect.

Everyone’s on edge right now, not just you. This is the time of year when contracts start expiring, when what had seemed like a decent season might end up being your last. It’s all on the wire, and at last it’s occurring to you, and everyone else for that matter, that their entire career is up to whatever they do on the track.

You’ve already sat down with your PR manager several times to discuss how you should handle this weekend, as well as the next few weekends until you can get a contract renewal locked in. You have no reason to doubt your current team, you’ve been delivering the results as asked, but there’s always the small voice in the back of your head wondering if you haven’t been picking up on the warning signs. You’ve heard of drivers getting blindsided before. Why couldn’t it happen to you?

So yes, although you’ve been just fine since your last contract signing, drivers have been let go for smaller offenses. That’s why you need to be damn near perfect this weekend. If you get through this latest race with no mistakes and some good points, you’ll be just fine. Once you’ve signed to your team again, you can relax. Up until that time, though, your behavior needs to be as proper as you can make it.

You’ve been managing such a task pretty well this whole weekend. Thursday you were nervous but in control all throughout the interviews, Friday landed you some good practices, and you did well enough in Saturday’s qualifying that you have nothing to lose sleep over yet, at least. You just need to get through today, and then luck will be on your side even more than before.

The race will start in less than an hour; you’re wandering the grid in the throngs of other drivers and team principles and spectators. At some point soon, you’ll have to head over to listen to the usual bungling of the host country’s national anthem, but until then, you’re putting on a good face. Your PR manager is flashing you discreet thumbs up whenever you see her. Life is good.

You weave around the various cars, not so close that you’ll be accused of spying but just close enough that you could, you know, if you wanted to. No one minds getting a better idea of their opponents’ sidepod designs anyway. Above all else, you keep an eye out for camera crews; Martin Brundle’s here somewhere, interviewing some poor sap, and you’d like to keep out of his way lest he turn to questioning you instead. The guy’s got a knack for getting under anyone’s skin, you don’t much feel like an interrogation today.

In fact, you can see him right now, eagerly thrusting his microphone towards some hapless driver. You see the papaya cap first, then hear the grating voice, and– well, maybe you’ll drift a little closer than before, because watching Lando Norris get picked to pieces by Martin won’t be the worst start to your race morning after all.

In single-seater racing, everyone is your enemy. At the end of the day, it’s you versus all nineteen other drivers on the grid. This means that you should have no particular arch rival, but if you were going to hate someone more than anyone else like that, it would be Lando by a long shot.

He’s just infuriating, that’s all. It’s like racing with a kid, he never learned to grow up, and every time you have to talk to him, you walk away wishing you could throttle him. Lando annoys you to death, and worst of all, he’s quite aware of it and proud of it, too. Usually, you go out of your way to avoid being near him, but you can make out the displeased look on his face from here, and if Martin Brundle is tearing him to shreds, well, you’d like to hear that more than anything.

You casually adjust course so you’ll be passing behind Lando. It looks like nothing at all, just you trying to navigate the packed grid, but you can hear every word of the conversation happening between Martin and Lando now.

You can’t help but smile as you hear Martin questioning Lando.  “McLaren hasn’t had as good of a weekend so far as they’d like, I think,” Martin is saying, “What’s your strategy to turn that bit of bad luck around?”

Lando’s grin is frozen on his face like plastic. “Uh, we’ll definitely be gunning for whoever’s in front of us with everything we’ve got. Best strategy is to just go for it.”

Martin nods. You’re close enough now that you’re about to walk straight behind Lando, close enough that you swear Martin sees you just before he asks, “Anyone in particular that you’ll be going for?”

“Yeah,” Lando says, scratching his head absentmindedly, “Y/N L/N.”

Perfect timing. The cameraman quickly pans his camera between Lando’s deliverance of this answer to you, right over his shoulder like a devil. The worst part is that you genuinely don’t even think Lando knew you were there or planned it like that. He just likes throwing you under the bus for fun.

Martin chuckles– this must be the best thing for him all morning, really, drama like this gets him talked about like nothing else– and addresses his next question to you. “So, Y/N, what do you think about that?”

Lando turns around, evidently startled, but you just plaster on a smile. “He can try his best, but I won’t be letting anyone through today,” you tell Martin, and leave as soon as you can.

You can sense the cameras following you no matter how far away you go. Damn. And, as you walk further towards a group of your race engineers, you remember the most important part of your PR manager’s advice for this weekend:  avoiding trouble, not just putting on a good face. That hasn’t worked out so well for you now. You do very well in that race, but what the Internet focuses on the most in the days to come isn’t your result but endless gifs of your irritated face in the background of Lando’s interview when he says he’ll be targeting you.

It’s not the greatest, to say the least. So much for playing it cool before a contract is signed. Oh, PR’s going to have a holiday over this one. You’d almost be surprised with the speed at which they suggest a media activity to wipe the slate clean, except for the fact that they’ve probably been counting on you messing something up this weekend so they had to have backup plans. Always nice to be trusted, isn’t it?

The event actually isn’t that bad. They’ve gotten a good amount of you together for some manner of charity work/awareness raising/well intentioned propaganda nonsense. They love putting F1 drivers together on a program outside race week, like it’s some kind of proof they can point to when the press conferences seem more awkward than usual. See, they hang out all the time! Of course they like each other!

(They do not like each other. Not at all. Some do, but. Most are not some. You are not some.) 

Today, drivers will be in pairs, volunteering with children so motorsport can accrue a younger fanbase. Normally, you love events like this, the kids get so excited to talk to an actual live Formula One driver as if they’re typically just in display cases or something. Things will go wrong, fun times will be had, and your PR manager will ease off for a day or two provided that you do a good job. Not the worst thing in the world.

Usually, the organizers of such image-boosting nonsense at least try to put friends together. Quick camera cuts and a good deal of B-roll can only do so much to cover up the missed jokes, the cruel laughs. You’re with your teammate more often than not, a unified front, or else with one of the drivers you’re closer to. It’s easier that way. The smiles come more quickly.

That’s what you expect when you show up. Instead, you glance at the email telling you the place and the name and the time, and you see that you’ll be stationed with– no, no please– Lando. Lando Norris. Lando, the one boy you can’t stand more than anyone.

They know that. Of course they do. It is physically impossible to avoid that fact. As if you haven’t seen the YouTube compilations of terrible moments between the two of you, the Instagram posts with the hateful stares, the TikToks with captivating audios of every time you’ve slighted each other in the paddock or during interviews. You’re a bitch, he’s an ass, and neither of you get to be the good one coming out of those fights, but more often than not, it’s him.

There’s nothing you can do about it now. Causing a kerfuffle will only turn the organizers against you, and you refuse to show weakness in the face of British children, drivers or otherwise, so you keep your smile fake and your mouth shut. This is a good cause. You can hold your tongue for a few hours. The kids will, at least, appreciate it. Hopefully.

Lando’s already at your assigned station when you get there. He’s spinning aimlessly in one of the chairs they’ve given him, and you have to fight to hide your laugh at his rotation speed.

“Trying to train for G-Force, are you? I’m almost impressed with your dedication to the sport, Norris.”

Lando looks up with a start when you speak, and he hurriedly puts his feet down to stop his frenzied spinning. “You’re impressed with me? Glad to hear it.”

You roll your eyes, taking a seat on the chair next to him. “Oh, always. Do you know who put the two of us together on this activity? I want to have words with them.”

Lando snorts. “Not me, definitely. Whoever it is, they’re probably in witness protection at the moment. You look like you’re going to murder someone.”

“It might be you,” you tell him.

He groans. “Come off it. What have I even done to you? Can we not go without fighting for, like, five minutes?”

You scoff. “You’re the one who went after me on live television not three days ago.”

“Oh, you mean the interview with Brundle? That was so not my fault. He tries to trick you into going after other drivers, you know that.” Lando argues.

You arch a brow. “So he specifically tricked you into naming me as your first target? I didn’t know he operated at that level of mental warfare.”

Lando has the grace to look somewhat ashamed. “No. Uh. That may have been me.”

Thankfully, you’re interrupted by one of the event organizers coming in to tell you that the kids are arriving shortly. They pour in soon enough, about dozen children all thrilled to death about the fact that they actually get to talk to you and Lando. You’re soon distracted by the flood of questions directed towards you, ranging from kids wanting to know which drivers you’re best friends with to what superhero is your favorite.

You answer each question with equal solemnity, and before long you’re laughing with ease. You’re meant to be doing crafts and questions, so you help the kids make plastic beaded bracelets while you talk about the different colors of the flags and tyres. All in a day’s work.

Surprisingly, the fact that you have to do all of this with Lando right there beside you isn’t the worst thing in the world. He seems content to just watch you have fun with the kids with this weird, quiet smile on his face, and when everyone’s making their crafts, he’s bent over a project of his own, one that he refuses to let you so much as peek at.

At last, Lando straightens up and presents the finished product with a flourish. “It’s for you,” he says proudly, “Consider it a peace offering.”

You stare at it. He’s made a bracelet for you, complete with the same brightly colored beads that the other kids are using. Except, in the center, he’s spelled out a message—

You frown at him, confused. “This just says ‘driver.’”

“You are one,” Lando points out helpfully. 

There is a fight to not roll your eyes, and you are on the losing side. “Incredible.”

“I also made it in your team colors,” he says. He’s smiling at it. At you. Fondly.

It’s not an expression you usually associate with him, but you’re smiling too, aren’t you? You can’t seem to stop. It’s just— you’re here with him, and instead of fighting, he’s gone to the trouble of making you this. Your colors, your message. Fuck. 

You slip it onto your wrist before you can stop yourself. “Thank you.”

Lando’s grin broadens. “Does this mean I’m forgiven?”

You let out a frustrated huff. “You’ve ruined the moment. Stop having an agenda.”

“You’re still smiling despite my agenda,” Lando mentions. 

He’s unreal. It’s not as bad as before, though. Not that you’d tell him that much. 

Just in case he actually has ruined the brief moment of peace, Lando raises his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, then,” he says, “I’ll be better. Name one thing I can do to make this easier on you and I’ll get it done in a heartbeat.”

He’s expecting you to tell him there’s nothing he can do to improve himself in your eyes. It’ll make him seem like the bigger person and he’ll have the upper hand, then. Instead, you tilt your head to the side, considering him, and then at last point your finger at the offense on his chin.

“Shave the half-beard,” you say, “Please. It’s an eyesore.”

“Will that get you to stop complaining?” He asks, mouth twisting up in an amused grin. 

“Nothing can,” you argue back, “I thought you knew that.”

If anything, Lando only seems more pleased by your response. “I’m starting to learn.”

He’s stubbornly unwilling to argue with you. It would be infuriating, but for some reason, it still makes you smile thinking about it hours after you get back home, rubbing your thumb over the beads on the bracelet he strung for you. 

And, when you see him at the paddock for the next race, he’s fucking clean shaven. Not a whisper of a beard in sight. He spots you looking and winks. What the hell. 

It makes no sense. None at all. He doesn’t say a thing about it, and if he won’t, then you can’t either, because you’re not entirely sure that this isn’t just all in your head. Maybe he felt like shaving anyway. Maybe a girlfriend put him up to it or something. This prompts a frantic research session, and after perusing many F1 WAGs Instagram accounts, you’re certain that Lando isn’t dating anyone at the moment. This isn’t important information, of course. You’re just, you know, curious.

You keep the bracelet on. Tucked under a sleeve, always, no one needs to know and least of all Lando, but it stays on. You’re not entirely sure why. Luxury brands have offered you diamonds, but Lando made this for you, and for some reason, that makes it far more valuable in your opinion than anything else. It’s silly, but it’s yours. That’s all.

No one has picked up on the war waging in your head. Your PR manager mentioned once that she was glad you and Lando weren’t actively fighting anymore, and it took you a few moments before you realized she was right. Not only have you stopped sniping at each other in interviews, but a couple races now, he’s actually approached you in the paddock to talk, and what’s more, you’ve let him.

It’s stupid, and unreasonable, and definitely not something you should be devoting so much of your life to thinking about, but now that the seed has been planted in your head, it’s kind of impossible to ignore. Lando gets you water on hot weekends. He helps you avoid Martin Brundle when the commentator is out doing his grid walks. You seek him out to talk through race results. You laugh at each other’s misfortune, but it doesn’t sting like it did before.

He’s insufferable. You love him. 

You love him. 

It’s the first time you’ve admitted as much to yourself. You have a feeling that it won’t be the last. There is much more to you, to him, than just the fighting, so much more that you want to explore and express and linger over, but—

But Lando doesn’t want that, does he? Lando is a spoiled brat, a young Prince Charming who is very used to getting what he wants and not at all acquainted with people contradicting that. It’s why the two of you clashed for the first time. If he had wanted you in any sense of the word other than as an enemy, he would have done something about it at the start.

Even now, the two of you have been drunk in clubs before, have walked back to hotels alone in the middle of the night. If Lando wanted something from you, something more, he could have taken it. He hasn’t, so the awful truth you must admit to yourself if this:  he doesn’t want it at all. He’s studiously neutral, but nothing more than that.

It’s starting to gnaw away at you. Lando isn’t the only one who likes getting what he wants. Now that you’ve stopped hating each other, he’s closer to you than he ever has been, but yet it still isn’t enough. You can stand right next to him, can even lean against his shoulder, but it all means nothing.

It’s infuriating. It makes you act up, act out. Your shared friends on the grid invite you out to some gala, and you go because you know Lando will be there, and you leave early because you want him to follow you out. He does, and you two argue the whole way back, because if you can’t have him as you want, maybe you should push him away. It’ll certainly make things easier.

The two of you are squabbling in the back of the taxi about something unnecessary. Probably something he said and you escalated, if not the other way around. At last, you can’t take the weight of his disapproval anymore, and you ask the driver to let you out. It’s close enough to your hotel that you can walk, anyway. Lando can stay in the car and go back to his place. Problem solved.

It is, at least, until he chases you out of the car as well. He’s saying something about how you need to get back in the car, something about an approaching storm. You look up at the darkening sky and realize what he’s talking about. You had half thought that the distant thunder had been in your own head instead of across the city, but storm clouds are descending upon you now.

Lando shakes his head exasperatedly, hurrying you towards the door of the hotel. It really isn’t that far, but he still threatens to carry you there at least twice. His temper only grows more taut when he starts seeing lightning in the distance. It isn’t even raining here yet, but he doesn’t relax until you’re both through the door and out of harm’s way.

You, on the other hand, only freeze up when the roof is at last over your head. It occurs to you, not three steps into the shelter of the lobby, that your wrist is bare. Underneath your jacket, you reach over to scratch absentmindedly just beneath your other palm, but instead of hitting plastic beads, they touch only blank skin. You freeze in place, gaze swinging wildly to your forearm, but it’s true, the bracelet is gone. You don’t remember it coming off, but it’s gone now.

A frantic search of your pockets reveals nothing; as if they’re deep enough to hold anything, anyway, least of all this all-important thing. The bracelet was on your wrist when you left the cab, so it must have been lost while you were outside. It wouldn’t have been that long ago now. You could still find it.

Lando groans in irritation when you immediately make for the doors once more. “Y/N, come on–”

You’re ignoring him, though. Lando’s going to think the worst of you anyway, and you want your bracelet more than you want his incensed remarks about how it’s such a bad idea to stay out in this weather. The storm is hurriedly dawning upon you, and the trees lining the walkways shake as if with fright or chill, but that doesn’t stop you from retracing your steps, silently praying that you’ll find the one thing you cannot bear to lose. You can buy an awful lot back, misplacing jackets or other jewelry isn’t that big of a deal, but that bracelet– well, Lando only made one of those, and it was yours.

You didn’t walk that far when you were out here, all things considered, so you’re able to pinpoint the possible bracelet locations quickly. Either here, behind the flowering tree, or there, along the stone walkway—

Lando has followed you out, raising his arm over his face to protect from the spattering of raindrops now starting to fall from the sky. “Y/N, come on, I’m serious, we have to go in.”

You hold up a finger, still looking only at the ground. “Just give me a second.”

Lando heaves another tremendous sigh. “What are you even doing?”

“Trying to find something I lost.” You have to raise your voice to be heard over a clap of thunder which, although isn’t necessarily nearby, still makes Lando flinch as if the ominous sound came from overhead. 

“It isn’t worth it,” he says, “we can find it later, I promise. Just get inside, will you?”

“No!” You shout back.

Lando casts a frantic look up at the approaching storm, then rushes over to stand in front of you, blocking you from moving any further. “Y/N, please. What could possibly be important enough to stay out here? You’re going to get struck by lightning.”

You try to escape past him, but Lando stays firm, refusing to budge until you tell him what the matter is. At last, you give in. “Fine. It’s your bracelet, the one you made me. You made it for me, I’m not losing it. You may not like me, not like– Not like I like you, but at least I can have that. That’s what I want.”

Lando’s face goes blank. Whatever he was expecting to hear, it wasn’t that. The naked surprise in his expression makes your stomach twist with shame, and you turn away, headed back to your search once more. Lando was caught off guard by your answer, so he isn’t able to stop you.

You hurry away from him. You don’t know what he’s thinking, or, hell, why he even made you the bracelet in the first place. Maybe it was for a specific reason, but it was probably just supposed to be a joke, something to be used against you, but you kept it anyway. You kept it, and you treasured it like gold.

You run further into the storm, away from him. The rain starts to fall even more than before. Maybe it’s okay, though. If the storm carries you away, if it drowns you in the flood, at least you won’t have to face him again. You look from side to side, searching for any pocket of plastic colors, but nothing, nothing.

Nothing, and then Lando’s voice, faint because of the storm, but still there somehow. Still there, despite everything you’ve said to him.

“I wanted you,” he calls back, shouting to be heard over the ever quickening wind. “I wanted you, but you hated me, and I thought it was better if we were enemies than nothing. At last then I could still talk to you.”

You feel as if you’ve been struck by lightning. The shock of it freezes you in place, even as the rain pounds down in sheets around you, chilling you through skin to bone and blood. It is only now, once your frenzy has been replaced by sheer immobilizing surprise, that you stand still long enough to spot the bracelet at last, tucked inside the cup of a stone on the walkway.

You reach out to pick it up, but your hand meets someone else’s before your fingers can close around the beads. When you look up, it’s him, it’s Lando, just as soaked from the rain as you, but here. Still here. Still here, for you.

He slides the bracelet over your wrist, then leans closer, just enough that you can feel the reverberations of his whispered hurry as he whispers it to you before urging you back towards the hotel once more. He’s pulled off his jacket and holds it above the two of you to protect from the wind and rain. It forces you to run so close to him that you can feel the heat radiating between the slim space from his ribs to yours. 

You feel it still, even after you make it past the threshold of the hotel and stand there, shivering, just behind the glass doors. You can see the storm wild outside– so crazy to think that you’d just been out there, with the wind tearing at the trees and the rain so devastating– but in here, it’s calm, completely still.

Lando remains just a breath away, slowly lowering his dripping jacket away from your head. “It’s you,” he repeats, “It’s always been you.”

After all of that, all of those revelations and discoveries, he still has it in himself to surprise you. The kiss is unexpected, but not unwelcome, and warms you head to toe despite the cold of the rain still pressed deep within your bones. It’s welcoming, inviting, and it tells you that despite everything, every fight, every reason not to stay– it will only get better from here.

f1 taglist: @j-brielmalfoy, @juphey

[etherbonded]

silver-strings-of-fate​:

“Feel free to just call me ‘Ren’, dear. We’re all friends here, no need to be so formal,” he said, smirking. “And don’t worry about it. I’m actually a business man by trade, but recently I’ve felt I could do more good in the political sphere. My little career change is a very new development.”

His eyes drifted back over to her husband. That was one of his political opponents, wasn’t it? What a coincidence. But that just made him more confident about flirting with her. Whether or not he had any actual interest in her, the sheer power play of seducing his opponent’s wife was too good to pass up.

Discarding his cigarette in the ashtray, he rested his arm on the back of the sofa. Not actually touching her, but positioning himself inches away from hugging her.

“I’m surprised your husband isn’t over here with you, Himarin. I know if I was married to a woman like you, I wouldn’t ever want to leave your side. And I certainly wouldn’t be leaving you alone so I could talk to other women.”

“ If you say so R..Ren. “ She feels awkward saying his first name, this man.. is far too open and friendly. Especially for the kind of field he’s in... but then it clicks, he’s not being himself obviously. For a moment she had forgotten herself, for a moment been moved by his charisma and kind words, but then she reminds herself of the hard lesson she learned with Masayoshi. Men like this? They only ever act nice for the fun of playing with something.

And she’ll be damned if she’ll be another man’s fun, or any man’s source of entertainment. But she’ll play along somewhat, at least until her husband finally opens his fucking eyes to see the fact she’s talking to one of his opponents. And when he did, he’d pull her out of this situation. Of course angry, but she can deal with it. So she keeps up her polite smile, and remains aware of his movements and words.

She lets out a bit of a sheepish laugh and remembers, although he may not believe that they’re in love, she has to fake it well at the least with others. “ He’s a busy man, and he often just likes to treat his men and woman associates equally so I don’t take it too personally. As for why he’s not by my side, well, it’s because while he does love to have his arm wrapped around me and show me small bits of affection in public... he’s actually more of a private person. He’s far more attentive in private believe me ehe~. “ Gross. They weren’t even intimate like that much anymore. It was more like they hate each other to the point they barely tolerated the other, but tolerance none the less.

Well, minus her plans to kill him because of how much she hates him but that’s not relevant right now!

Himari fiddles with the very obviously expensive ring on her finger, normally she’d look at it as if it burnt her very skin but now? It’s almost as if it’s a good way to help sell her act so it’s looked at happily and lovingly. “ I’m confident within our relationship but I appreciate your words honestly. “

[thesheelfsworld]

Trust me or f*ck off

Warning: mild swearing

Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield x reader; Thorin's Company x reader

Summary: Being an outsider, it was expected that the dwarves were doubtful of you, but they should at least let you do your job!

Author's Note: As always, English is not my first language, so please be nice and enjoy!✨

If you are interested, here are part 1, part 3.

PART 2

Walking away was the right decision because as soon as I stepped away, tears started rushing down my face. I hated crying, and I hated the reason I was crying. 

I wandered deeper into the forest, and soon enough, anger became exhaustion. I was tired from all the traveling, and being on guard all the time. Tired of being looked at with doubt, and having my skills questioned. 

It was a shame because I really did like the dwarves -those few sweet moments where they opened up. In all my years of traveling, I have learned some bits and pieces about dwarven culture and found it fascinating. I had hoped to learn more on this quest, but oh well. 

I had also learned the story of Thorin Oakenshield long before I arrived at Bilbo’s house all those weeks ago. The prince of a fallen stolen kingdom, who had to watch his grandfather die a terrible death and his father be lost to his grief. The prince who had to step up to find his people a new home. Once upon a time, I had been excited to meet him.

Not anymore. 

Looking back at it now, and with anger still flowing in my heart, that dwarf was nothing but a 150-year-old bastard who smelled like a wet warg’s ass from being in the woods for so long. Maybe that is why he acts like such a beast, he has finally blended with his surroundings. 

I let out a defeated sigh. What am I to do now? If I go back, there is a high chance a fight will start again for I am still mad and dwarves suck at apologies, or at least I am sure Thorin does. His idea of an apology would be something along the lines of  “sucks that you felt that way about us taking care of you” or a simple “unfuck you” probably.

Where was I? Oh yes, mulling my options. Well, I could always leave, although I am contractually obligated to this quest … and I could not do that to them. Damn, being the bigger person was hard. 

The sun was beginning to set and the light of a few stars shone through the darkening sky. A cold breeze picked up and I felt rushed to make a decision. Losing daylight was both good and bad when making a hasty departure. If I were to leave, the darkness would hide my absence from them until morn. Of course, I would prefer to not leave like a thief in the night, but I also do not want to see their faces as I go, scoffing at the cowardly human woman who could not handle their adventure.

However, my thoughts were interrupted by soft footsteps and crunching leaves. I stood with my back to the newcomer, still not ready to face whoever had joined me. 

“I do not mean to upset you any further, I have just come to apologize. We started on the wrong foot, and that is probably our fault.” 

I was not surprised they sent Fili to talk to me. Of all the dwarves, he had been the one who spoke to me the most. In total, we talked five times, and three of them were about needing more firewood, so yes, one could say we were very close. Gods, sarcasm seems to come easy to me today.

Truthfully, I was not very moved by his attempt to fix things. His apology did very little to lessen my anger, but it was an apology nonetheless and it was as good as it would get. 

Without turning, and with no intention of continuing this conversation, I hummed uninterested in reply. Fili, however, was not deterred. 

“We did not mean to make you feel that way. And for what is worth, I do not think you are weak. In the time I have known you, you have defeated all of your opponents and gained nothing but a few scratches when most of us have already been wounded at least once.”

I would have loved to tell him that that was because I have barely been in any of those battles, but at this point, it would have been going in circles. I already spoke my mind, and he was simply trying to make me feel better. 

“Thank you, Fili. You can go back now.” 

Although I appreciated his apology, I still wanted to be alone. Words could mean nothing, and so far their actions have said the opposite. 

Fili stood there for a bit. I could tell he was not sure what to do; I had dismissed him but he had not gotten the answer he had expected. Yet, he slowly turned and made his way back to the group. 

With a few deep breaths, I decided to go back to camp. After all, my belongings were there, and I knew it was not wise to make any decisions when one was so emotionally affected. 

With my best neutral expression and a steady pace, I rejoined the company. Silence settled among the travelers as soon as I came into view and nobody moved. As if I had noticed nothing, I made a beeline to my belongings, grabbed my daggers and my sharpening stone, and settled against the farthest tree. Without looking at anyone, and desperately trying to not show any emotion, I began my nightly ritual of caring for my weapons. Slowly, movement around camp picked up again, minus the usual chatter. Good, I am glad I stirred them up enough to silence them a bit. 

Of course, my enjoyment was short-lived and brought to an end by no other than -you guessed it, our most beloved leader.

“I would like to speak with you, about earlier.”

“I don’t think so.” My voice remained steady, my answer short and final. If I had to make a wild guess based on his sharp breathing, I would say His Majesty was not pleased with my answer.

“I advise we both walk a bit and discuss what transpired. Sitting and scowling at others like children will fix nothing,” there it was again, comparing me to little children and complaining about scowling. Him. It was laughable. 

“Thorin, I swear, if you do not step back, this is going to get very disrespectful very fast.”

Balin, always the mediator, came to his king’s aid as fast as lightning.

“Now lass, do not mind him; words are not his forte, as you already know.” Thorin’s scoff could not have been more evident, but seeing every other dwarf and hobbit looking at him with scrunched eyebrows made him snap his mouth closed. 

“We would all like to apologize to you for how we made you feel. You see, dwarves are usually born male; we have very few dams, so we treasure them dearly. Of course, they are not treated as delicate flowers, dwarrowdams are strong, determined, and as stubborn as any dwarf should be, so we have no excuse other than our culture’s care of women and a bit of prejudice toward humans being more um… easily harmed.” Weaker, your mind provided.

“I understand, but I think that is quite enough. I cannot continue being treated like this, otherwise what good am I doing to this company? Why am I here?” Maybe giving them some perspective will help, and an ultimatum “If this goes on, I will leave, find myself another job and you will have one less person to worry about.”

Shouts erupted around camp 

“What!?”

“Come on lass, there’s no need to do that,” 

“You can not leave us!"

I was surprised by their reaction.  They don’t trust me but don’t want me to leave either. Who understands them? 

“No, that is not the way to deal with this,” was Thorin’s response, his voice rising above the others. “Please, let us talk privately,” he tried once more. 

“Fine,” 

Setting my weapons aside, I followed Thorin into the forest. 

We walked for a bit, just close enough to see the others, but not be overheard. Thorin came to a stop and turned to face me. His expression was, as always, unreadable. His ever-present frown seemed to deepen as he looked for the right words to say. 

“It was never my intention to offend you,” his shoulders slouched as the words left his mouth, giving him an air of defeat. Gaze never meeting my eyes, he continued “I knew you were doing just fine without my help today, I just …”

“You just, what?”

“It is my responsibility to care for everyone in this company, and I care about you … very much,” he finished.

“You care about … me?” Confusion laced each of my words. 

Thorin’s grimace showed every ounce of embarrassment he felt and a soft blush graced his neck and cheeks. He scratched his beard roughly as if to muffle his words “Yes, I care about you and your safety. Especially your safety. I will not force you to remain with us, but if you do, I promise this will not happen again.”

He cares about me and my safety. I am so confused. I mean, sure, he is attractive and I admire him for all the hardships he has endured, but he has been a downright brute up until now, surely he doesn’t mean …. This is not how I thought this day was going to go.

“Okay, I appreciate it. However, I still think I should fully calm down to make a decision,”

My reply came out doubtful. I was still way too perplexed by the way things turned out. 

“Of course, I understand”

Thorin began his way back to camp when he stopped and looked at me over his shoulder, “I hope you choose to remain with us, it will be a shame to lose such a valuable warrior.” And with that, he left.

Why did that just make my cheeks feel warm?

---------------------

Here it is! I hope you like it and maybe be interested in part 3?

Feel free to give me some feedback in the comments! Also, if you have any requests let me know <3

Taglist: liscurrisa ; @farmerpinkpie ; @artaxerxesthegreat ; @tschrist1

[introvert--weeb]

Hello! I love reading your works but can i have request?

If it's not too much i request for a mikey, draken, mitsuya,angry,smiley,ran and rindou (sorry if it's too much, i love them all i can't pick) with a s/o bakugou katsuki? But the s/o is a bit calmer since she have a angry management but when she snaps she became the explosive queen?(lmao) and called someone extras,nerd,shitty and when fight she keeps saying "DIEEE!"

Oh God! I love this idea so much!

And of course I can write for all of them! I really don't have that much of a limit on how many characters I'm willing to write about in one request 😅 I'm also really glad you enjoy my other writings :)

Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy it!!

--

Mikey, Draken, Mitsuya, Smiley, Angry, Ran, Rindo with a fem!Bakugo Katsuki!reader

TW: mentions of language, anger management, violence, name calling

--

Mikey

Just like Mikey, you would like to give others nicknames rather than call them by their actual name. However, while the blond would simply add '-chin' at the end of names or change the way it's said, you would create these nicknames by either how annoying they were to you or if you were friends, by their features.

You were like a firecracker. Short fuse and when it was lit, you were explosive in both your words and actions. Many of Toman had learnt this the hard way. Especially poor Baji. He had made a comment that had set you off, next thing he knew he was facing the sky as Draken and Mikey were holding you back. Never again did he make the mistake of saying something that would upset you.

While you were usually OK if not provoked, there were times when you couldn't hold back. This was especially true when it came down to fights. Even the Invincible Mikey knew to not get too close during these moments. After all, he had witnessed what happened to those that had.

You would be the loudest and most explosive on that entire battlefield. It was intimidating for the rival gang when you had gotten into the zone. Yells of you telling all those 'extras' to get out of your way, with each punch you would scream out for them to 'die'. Yep, the others are going to get as far away from you as possible.

Would be back to your calm self after letting all your frustrations out. This is what surprises your boyfriend the most. You could be yelling at people to die as you punched them only to become sweet and innocent afterwards. It did remind him to never provoke you to the point of you losing it.

Draken

No one could understand how Draken had ended up with someone as arrogant as you. You made it no secret that you believed in your skills as a fighter, even looking down on others you deemed too weak.

However, this was mainly to make sure others knew that you should be taken seriously. Being a girl in a gang, especially the girlfriend of the Vice Captain, had others looking down on you all the time. You were strong on your own merits. You didn't need to be dating Draken to get people to notice this.

Most of the time, you were pretty calm and people felt they could approach you without any harm coming towards them. After all, you were actually a nice person under all that harsh exterior. But they still made sure to watch what they said around you, remembering how short your fuse was.

When you snapped, the person who got you to that point best start praying for their life or running as far away as they could. You were known to be quite agile when it came to fights and this would be no exception. A swift punch to their face followed by you yelling for them to 'die you shitty extra'!

Ken would never admit it but you terrified him when you got like this. After all, he was the Vice Captain to one of the strongest delinquent gangs in Tokyo. He shouldn't be scared of a girl that was shorter than him. People reminded him that he could stop you by picking you up. Draken knew this wouldn't do anyone any good.

"Ken-ny, you not going to stop her?" Mikey asked, appearing at the side of the taller blond while munching on his dorayaki. Draken just sighed before explaining that he couldn't. In fact, he doesn't even believe that Mikey could stop you when you got like this. The best course of action was to just let you have your fill so you could calm down.

The poor boy who had lit your fuse was now lying black and blue on the ground, blood pouring out of his now-broken nose. You simply blew a strand of hair from your face before making your way to your boyfriend, not wanting to talk about the incident.

Mitsuya

Being a pacifist, Mitsuya didn't agree with how fast you would turn to violence when you lost your patience with somebody. After all, he was a firm believer in that most situations can be sorted by talking it through. So people were really shocked when it came to light you were dating.

You were both the complete opposites of each other in how you dealt with overwhelming stress. However, you both did make a great couple when it came to other aspects in the relationship. It's just people hardly saw that. And nobody seemed to remember that you were actually quite a calm person who just so happened to have a short fuse.

What seemed to set your fuse of the most is when others looked down on you or your boyfriend. People seemed to think that because he didn't actively fight those he had a disagreement with.

So when someone dared to talk smack about your beloved Takashi, you were not going to take it. And so, that is how Mitsuya was trying his best to hold you back as you were shouting and trying to kick out at the person that had made you angry.

"Let go of me, Takashi! I'm gonna rip that shitty nerd's arms off, that's all!" You may have been trying to convince your boyfriend to let you go but the threat of removing the arms of the boy was keeping him from doing so. Even the boy who had annoyed you had begun to feel scared for his safety and so chose this moment to walk away.

"Oi! Get back here you damn extra! I'll kill you!"

Mitsuya simply held you until you calmed down, softly shushing you as you yelled out more threats. But when you finally had calmed down enough, that was when Mitsuya would begin to lecture you on how violence and threats were uncalled for in situations like that. Although he would express his gratitude that you stood up for him.

Smiley

You both would get on so well together. Same energy and love for violence and threatening people. in fact, you both would tell each other "I'll kill you" (affectionately of course) when the other was being annoying. The best type of relationship.

You would definitely give Smiley a nickname that only you would call him. And Nahoya would reciprocate with his own nicknames he had for you. They would definitely just be affectionate insults.

When you would be on dates, Smiley would love how you muttered under your breath about all the extras and nerds that were getting in your way. Sometimes you may actually call them that to their face if it was a particularly bad day, scaring the poor souls at how aggressive you seemed.

Nahoya would ride his bike with you clinging to his back. You would both ride around Shibuya, speeding around corners just to feel that adrenaline high you both would crave. Sometimes you would both find yourselves in a fight against people that made fun of you both.

Smiley loved watching how intense you became. It was like a switch flipped in your mind, turning you into a small ball of pure rage. Shouts of 'DIE' could be heard throughout the streets of Shibuya as you delivered blow after blow against your opponent. This was when he knew you were perfect for each other.

Angry

You would remind Souya of a female Nahoya, just without the constant smile. No, instead you would usually appear unapproachable with your resting bitch face.

Angry would be the sweeter of the two brothers and so would do anything to keep you safe. But that was easier said than done. As you were a lot like Nahoya, you would get annoyed easily and quickly resort to violence.

The main reasons why you ended up In fights was to protect your cute boyfriend. One comment on how he looked stupid with his angry expression and the person was seeing stars. There was no way you could let someone get away with making stupid comments about Souya! These damn extras needed to learn their place in the world!

Your anger made your vision red. The word 'die' seemed to become a lot more frequent, to the point where your victim was beginning to genuinely fear for their life.

Souya had to grab your arm to get you to stop. He was scared that you could end up getting hurt or worse, you could end up going through with your threat. He didn't know what he would do if you ended up in juvenile detention. Especially if you could be there for 10 years.

"Please stop Y/N!" The fact his voice was so teary is what had snapped you from this rage-filled trance. Turning your attention to the blue haired Kawata, you got off the now unconscious boy and decided it would be best to continue your hang out in an attempt to calm down.

Ran

He would love how you had two sides to you. One side was calm yet arrogant, similar to his own, while the other side happened to be his favourite. You would explode and takedown a handful of gang members on your own.

Ran wouldn't admit it out loud to anyone but you, but he found the second side so hot. Maybe it was how you moved so elegantly as you dodged each punch before dealing your own? Or maybe it was the strength you used behind each throw you aimed towards your opponent? Either way, he thought you were a damn work of art.

It really didn't take a lot to get you to switch. However, you made sure not to explode when Ran or Rindo was testing your patience. You may have agility and strength but you were nothing against their combo. However, Ran would never hurt you and Rindo would only gently restrain your limbs. It would definitely be just to show you that you were not on their level.

You often followed the brothers when they were going to deal with gangs that tried to muscle in on Roppongi. That could not be forgiven. After all, Roppongi belongs to the Haitani brothers.

While the brothers were busy with the leaders, you would be left to take out the others. It would be a struggle but you could manage most of them.

"You damn extras need to learn not to take what doesn't belong to you!" Another one had fallen. This continued until Ran and Rindo finally dealt with the leaders. It was an obvious victory for the brothers.

"You look so hot splattered with blood, baby," he would whisper in your ear before leaning back and sending a wink. You rolled your eyes before starting the journey back to their home.

Rindo

You were like his own personal guard dog. Not that he needed one but he did appreciate how you were always there for him. In fact, he loved that you didn't view him as the weaker brother and instead saw his amazing combat strength. You had to keep reminding him that Ran couldn't actually use his baton as efficiently without Rindo locking them down.

He had yet to really see you in action as the 'explosive princess' people knew you as. It did bother him a little but he never did express this disappointment outwardly. After all, he was a Haitani brother and so had to keep up appearances. Especially if he wanted to be viewed as an equal with Ran.

It was as he was on a date with you one day that he saw the mysterious explosive side of you. And he totally wasn't prepared for it.

It started when a high schooler had approached you both, telling you how you should ditch a weakling like Rindo to be with him. Rindo was about to kill this boy for even trying to get you to leave him as well as to prove that he wasn't weak.

However, he was left speechless when you had thrown a punch into the boy's stomach, causing him to double over and drop to his knees. You used your boot to push him onto his back before starting your assault on his face.

'Who do you think you are, you shitty extra! My Rindo is a hell of a lot stronger than your weak ass! Now do me a favour and die already!" Even as you were talking, fists smashing into his face as blood exploded from his nose and lips.

Rindo could only watch, not knowing whether to be terrified of you or to find this whole display extremely hot. The blood that covered your fists was a sight he wished he could see more often.

Once you were satisfied that the lesson had been learnt, you stood up and dusted your clothes. "Let's continue our date babe!" And now you were back to being the calm and sweet girl Rindo knew best.

[recurring-polynya]

Once again, I am thinking about the dubious claim that people make from time to time that Renji would have gotten better character development in the TYBW arc if Byakuya had died. The thing is, though, that Renji did get excellent character development in this arc, particularly with respect to his relationship to Byakuya, it was just very subtle and I want to talk about it.

So, the first thing I want to point out is that the captain-lieutenant relationships is one of the major themes of the TYBW. A lot of this is sort of weird and awkward, but this is perfect, actually, because captain-lieutenant relationships are, for the most part, weird and clunky and awkward. Take for example, the part that I always make fun of, where the captains are told not to go to bankai, and Hitsugaya, Komamura, Byakuya and Soi Fon immediately go to bankai-- but they all do this on the assumption that they are luring their opponent into a trap to see how this works, and that their lieutenant will somehow ??defeat them anyway?? (well, except Soi Fon who seems to think she can one-shot her Quincy). There’s Sasakibe’s funeral, where we find out that Yamamoto cared far more for him than we ever imagined. Kyouraku returns Nanao’s zanpakutou to her and stands behind her as she defeats an opponent he can't. Iba carries Komamura’s body off of the battlefield as he loses the last of his humanity. Isane struggles to keep her head above her grief because that’s the burden Unohana left her with. Rose avenging Kira. Hitsugaya and Matsumoto fighting and (sort of) dying together. The Zaraki-Yachiru thing. The Mayuri-Nemu thing. Momo and Shinji actually got to have a relatively normal one, which they each deserved, but at least they got to have normal one together. Anyway, that could be an entire essay, but as usual, I only want to talk about Renji and Byakuya.

Renji’s introduction as a character happens in stages. Initially, he sort of appears to be Byakuya’s sidekick-- he's here to do the dirty work during Rukia’s arrest, while Byakuya stands by and calls the shots, but even early on, it’s clear that Renji’s a little hung up on Byakuya. He’s trying to impress him, and gets more embarrassed and self-conscious as things go progressively pear-shaped. When Byakuya finally enters the action, Renji’s thought bubbles reveal that he’s watched Byakuya for a long time, that he knows all his moves. When we get the Renji backstory reveal a few issues later, we learn that Renji’s goal is to defeat Byakuya, which he seems to feel is necessary to seeing Rukia again, even though there has never been any sort of causal link revealed between these two things. Don’t get me wrong, if Young Academy Renji had tried to continue to be friends with Rukia, I think Byakuya would have kicked him out on his ass, but it’s clear that a lot of Renji’s hang-ups are internal-- he doesn’t want to face Rukia again until he can stand against Byakuya. I think the origin of this is that he simply wants what’s best for Rukia, and he can’t stomach the idea of asking her to leave her rich, noble family for him, unless, of course, he’s somehow better than Byakuya in some dimension, and the only thing Renji’s ever considered himself good at is fighting.

Even more interesting is that he’s chosen to go about this by... studying the man’s every move and becoming his lieutenant. But for as much energy as Renji has put into learning Byakuya’s favorite combat moves, he doesn’t actually know anything about him as a person. He’s shocked when Rukia predicts that Byakuya won’t lift a finger to help her, and then horrified when this actually comes to pass. A few chapters later, as he’s running Hinamori through, Aizen comments that “Adoration is the state furthest from understanding.” I would probably classify Renji’s feelings towards Byakuya more as admiration or idolization, rather than adoration, but I think this statement is also very true of Renji and Byakuya’s relationship. Unlike poor Momo, Renji gets a little more time and opportunity to do something with this information. With a little Ichigo-forced soul searching, he realizes that he’s not going to come out the hero of this story no matter what, but if he doesn’t do something, Rukia’s not going to come out of this story at all, and even if he’s not really ready, he’s spent 40 years trying to figure out how to beat Kuchiki Byakuya, let’s hope all that was good for something.

The Byakuya-Renji fight has no direct impact on the events of the Soul Society Arc. It makes Byakuya show up to Rukia’s execution 5 minutes late and without his scarf. Renji gets healed, so it really doesn’t matter all that much to him, either. You could argue that they both wasted a bunch of energy (that they could have used to fight Aizen later) but it’s primarily a character-driven moment of them both drawing lines in the sand about where they stand, vis a vis Rukia. Byakuya wins this fight, and he wins it handily, but he’s wrong, as he comes to realize a few issues later, when Ichigo kicks his ass and tells him he’s a bad brother, a lesson that Byakuya will take to heart for the rest of the manga. Byakuya claims that the difference between Renji and himself is class, but the real difference between is the heart, and in the long run, Renji is the real victor of this fight.

The hospital scene is an interesting footnote to this. Byakuya defeated Renji, but Byakuya was the asshole and everyone knows it. There’s an expectation that perhaps Renji will quit or perhaps Renji will give him an earful and perhaps even Rukia will choose to leave the family, either to go to the Living World or to be with Renji (and Byakuya would deserve this), but instead, both Renji and Rukia give Byakuya another chance, which is not, I think, a place Renji ever expected to be.

Rukia and Byakuya building up a sibling relationship after this is fairly straightforward (although I’m sure it had its weird moments), but Byakuya and Renji now have this profoundly awkward relationship where Byakuya is obviously in charge, but he sort of depends on Renji as a personal compass because he’s shit at dealing with people and he doesn’t want to screw stuff up with Rukia again. Take for example, the part of the Hueco Mundo arc where Orihime is kidnapped and Rukia and Renji desert their posts to come help rescue her. Kubo takes to the panel-space to tell us that Byakuya has tacitly approved this. As a clan head and a captain, a person who is entrenched in the hierarchy of Soul Society, Byakuya couldn’t possibly go to Hueco Mundo-- but he can turn a blind eye while his sister and lieutenant scurry out through the Kuchiki family senkaimon. Renji, for his part, tried to go to Hueco Mundo through official channels and got shot down. We don’t know what Renji would have done if Byakuya had explicitly forbidden him from going, but it doesn’t matter-- Byakuya enabled Renji to follow his heart here, because Byakuya can’t. Rukia would have gone to Hueco Mundo regardless. She cares about Byakuya, but she doesn’t depend on him for validation the way Renji does.

I said this was going to be about the TYBW, so let’s get to that. Early in the arc, we’re shown several scenes where it’s clear that Byakuya respects and values Renji as a lieutenant, but he’s also pretty damn patronizing to him. Renji is the first one to engage As Nodt, and when Byakuya shows up, he acts surprised that Renji hasn’t taken him out yet, but then proceeds to take over the fight (real, “stand back, fives, an eleven has arrived” energy). After Byakuya then loses his bankai like a doofus, Renji wants to take point so that Byakuya can figure out As Nodt’s attack and Byakuya won’t let him... and then proceeds to get thrashed.

This has to be one of the most emotionally charged fights in Bleach. Byakuya is losing, and Renji jumps in, absolutely incensed that As Nodt would use Senbonzakura against Byakuya. Renji isn’t doing great, but he’s not doing terrible when Byakuya gets up and tries to help Renji, even though he’s a big bloody mess. As Nodt reacts by shredding Byakuya into chunks, and Renji just loses it, and if Mask de Masculine hadn’t shown up and kicked him halfway across the Seireitei, I daresay Renji would have killed himself trying to take down As Nodt.

This is where I usually make the point that if Byakuya had died to here, it would have broken Renji into little pieces, but that’s not today’s essay. Instead, everyone goes to the Royal Realm, and by virtue of the fact that Byakuya is injured worse than everyone else, Renji has to go forward without him or his approval.

In typical Renji fashion, the thing that motivates Renji here is not glory or heroism, but the desire to accompany Ichigo, the need to be with his friends in their times of trial. In fact his companionship here is absolutely essential-- at Hikifune’s, Ichigo expresses deep doubts that he’s doing the right thing, and Renji reminds himself that if he wants to protect others, he has to take care of himself first.

At Nimaiya’s however, Renji and Ichigo are split up because they must follow their own paths. The other extremely interesting thing that happens here is that Renji’s sword is reforged. Byakuya shattered one of Hihio Zabimaru’s joints the very first time Renji used them in combat. Renji brushed it off at the time, saying that he could get by without it. Even though Byakuya has long been his motivating force and his mentor, he’s also been held back by his connection to him. And at this point, it’s gone.

I really wish we got to see where Renji and Rukia meet up again, but we don’t. Unlike with Ichigo, though, Rukia doesn’t seem to need anything from Renji. They travel together, fight together as equals, wear matching outfits, like you do. Oh. Wait. After all this time, in the 493 chapters between Needless Emotions and Blue Stripes, Renji can finally see himself as an equal to Rukia. They get. bankai. Together.

I want to emphasize that it’s not really anything about Rukia herself that allowed Renji to make bankai, it’s the fact that he’s finally managed to move past the feeling that he’s not enough. Defeating Byakuya would not actually have solved this problem, and having Byakuya dying in front of him wouldn’t have either. Renji gets criticized for losing a lot of his fights, but that’s such a key to his character. He’s not always the strongest, he doesn’t always win, but he keeps fighting for what he cares about. He struggles with his need for approval, for external validation, but Renji is at his best when he doesn’t have time to think about that, when he’s just fighting by his friends’ sides against impossible odds, doing what he knows in his heart is right.

I think people tend to make a little more than is strictly necessary of the line where he tells Mask that he’s “a villain”, I think he’s most just making fun of Mask’s own self-aggrandizement. On another level, though, this is just Renji being at ease with himself. Byakuya typically enters a fight bloviating about the honor of Soul Society and “how dare you raise your sword against me, the 28th Head of the Kuchiki” and even Ikkaku had the whole deal about telling people your name before you kill them, but Renji is more like “you beat up my friends, so I’m gonna break your face,” like there’s no ego in it, just you’re there, and he’s there, and then you’re lying on the ground and he’s taking a nap somewhere. This is so different than the insecure, posturing young man he was at the start of this series and I love this growth for him.

Even after he eventually meets up with Byakuya again, something has changed about their dynamic. The group gets split up and rejoined two or three times, and Renji and Rukia always stay together while Byakuya ends up fighting alongside others, Hisagi and later Hitsugaya and Zaraki. This is cemented in their last scene together, where Rukia and Renji try to stay with Byakuya and he sends them off to fight with Ichigo by saying “your help is not needed here.” In some ways, it’s an echo of Byakuya sending them off to Hueco Mundo, but in other ways, it’s acknowledging that they are their own people, not just an extension of him.

Hitsugaya follows it up with this:

There’s more here than meets the eye, though-- Byakuya and Renji have maintained a pretty strict superior-subordinate relationship, because that’s the easiest way for them to make sense of the world, but the fact is, they do care about each other and are important to one another.

I know there would be a certain narrative satisfaction in seeing Renji make captain at the end-- he’s one of the hardest working people in Bleach, and it frankly seems weird to see Iba get the haori when he doesn’t. But Renji has never wanted to be a captain. Renji becoming captain would, in some ways, be a failure. He spends years pre-canon chasing rank and prestige because that’s what he thinks will make him worthy, and it didn’t. Instead, he found worth in being himself, in loving his friends and being there for them, in learning things from Byakuya and teaching him things in return. Renji doesn’t need to be Byakuya’s lieutenant anymore, he just does it because he likes it. It makes him happy. What better character development is there than that?

[angeloroki]

you are the ua traitor — tamaki; shoto; bakugo

you were the ua traitor. and that broke his heart.

— character ; amajiki tamaki x gn!reader, shoto todoroki x gn!reader, katsuki bakugo x gn!reader

— request ; So I have this idea 👉🏻👈🏻 tamaki ( idk if you write for him ) shouto and bakugou ( feel free to add or remove anyone ) reaction to reader who sent by the league of villains to spay on UA. like the students were on a mission and the villains attacks and reader take their side ? Again plz if your uncomfortable with it just ignore it and ily 🤎🤎Also sorry for any mistake English isn’t my first Language

— genre ; angst

— warnings ; none

— a/n ; ty for your request hun, im totally okay with it!! so i hope you'll like it :)

(ily too <33)

amajiki tamaki

broken

his heart was in pieces when he understood your real presence in UA

you were called in by the professional heroes with nejire and mirio to rescue civilians from an attack on the downtown shopping center

he was warned that it was an attack of the league of villains

the young brunette was not afraid of the villains, but he was afraid for you, his s/o, afraid you would get hurt or worse

but he was happy to be with you on this mission,

you were there to reassure him and to have his back and vice versa, you were just a great duo

but never, never would he have imagined the scene before him

indeed, he was going to fight toga when he saw you deflecting his blow to protect the young blonde

« y/n ? » he said confused

but was he really ?

but everything came together like a puzzle, the rumor of an informant within the school, how each attack coincided with their exit from the school, information leaks

but still everything was fuzzy in his head

and maybe he didn't want to admit the truth

that the person he was in love with was just a villain

tears came to his eyes, and his gaze found the ground. motionless, paralyzed, he was losing his means

he saw you strike a violent blow to a hero who was going to arrest you

another hero came and shook tamaki with both hands

« hey son let them, the building will collapse ! », he shouted in his ears

but tamaki came to free himself from his hold to approach you

you stared at him, poor baby, he was in a bad state

« did you lie about that too ? did you lie to me when you said you loved me ? »

tears came to his eyes, he wanted to hear your truth from your own mouth first

he refused to admit that you had just helped the league of villains to knock out all the heroes

you sighed softly, you had never planned on tamaki in your mission

and even less fall in love with him

« you can still become a hero. and be with me. i beg you. » his voice was now a whisper.

a hero tried to capture you and failed miserably

the cause ?

tamaki

he was holding him back with his tentacles from approaching you.

« i'm sorry. i'm sorry that my love feelings for you are true. » you said.

his gaze was fixed on the ground, but he guessed that you had fled with the other bandits.

he let you go. and you were gone.

shoto todoroki

shoto and you were on patrol in an area when you were called in to help some heroes who were in trouble against the league of villains

your boyfriend who was very attentive to you noticed right away that something was bothering you

although he asked you if you were ready to go, you assured him that everything was fine

he knew you too well and knew something was wrong as you said

and his thoughts were confirmed all too quickly

you had arrived at the battle scene when he heard someone call your name

it was the one villain called twice, he has dealt with before in many attacks

« y/n you're finally here, oh my god, there is so much noises ! no it's silent what do you mean. y/n, shigaraki you don't have to do anything more in the UA ! »

shoto was a man of great composure, yet it was only these few words that managed to destabilise him with incredible force.

he was going to ask you what it meant

and before he noticed you were no longer by his side, he saw you alongside some villains

but instead of seeing them fighting or at least stopping them, shoto quickly understood that you were simply helping them to dodge the heroes' attacks

he said your name in a weak voice at first, filled with concern

he started to walk towards you, at a slow pace then he accelerated his pace

his thoughts whirled at a crazy speed, everything fitted together perfectly.

you were the traitor the teachers had been talking about for the last few weeks.

and you had chosen the worst time to reveal it.

once he was on your level, your first instinct was to protect yourself in case of an attack.

but the last thing he wanted to do was capture you or attack you , he just wanted to understand.

he needed to understand.

todoroki just wanted to understand how you could have betrayed him, or everyone else in the school.

« tell me i'm misinterpreting what's happening, please. »

his usually stoic expression was replaced by one filled with sorrow

and that's what broke your heart the most, plus the fact that your first love was a hero and not a villain like you.

his hands that were connected to yours clenched a little more as if he was afraid that you would disappear at any moment

yet he wasn't wrong to be afraid

and he understood that quickly

« don't give up on me, please. i-i love you y/n, even if we're not in the... same camp. »

never has shoto shown himself so weak in front of someone.

and even less so unreasonable

he, who was so hard on the rules. he was willing to make an exception for you.

and yet, you couldn't let that happen

you had to bite your lip until it bled to keep from crying in front of him.

you would have liked to say that he was only a pawn in your plan, in your mission.

but did you also have to lie to yourself ?

« stop loving me then, because it's not possible. » you reply in a cold voice.

you pushed him away violently, and with your partners you managed to push the little heroes aside to escape.

you did it for him, for his sake, you convince yourself.

even if it would break your own heart.

katsuki bakugo

you and bakugo were in the middle of a hostage rescue

admittedly, this was not bakugo's strong point, attack was more his domain

yet your superiors had specifically assigned you this mission

and what surprised you was that he didn't grumble while trying to change your mind

you didn't know it but he was happy to keep an eye on you, you were dealing with the league of villains and he was relieved to be able to be by your side to protect you in case things got out of hand

although he knew you were capable of protecting yourself

but now he wasn't sure if you ever even needed him

indeed, you were the two heroes still standing against the villains,

the other pro-heroes were either injured or unconscious

he wanted to keep you out of the way to avoid hurting you when he wanted to attack

« get out of my way moron, it's time to attack ! »

and yet you pushed him away with a calculated gesture and tackled him to the ground

you had handled him gently and carefully not to hurt him

and it was the fact that you attacked him instead of your opponents that caught him off guard

he didn't even try to struggle, letting you do this technique that you had learned from aizawa, in a few seconds only

and yet even though he suspected what was going on, he dared to say

« i knew you were stupid, but not that stupid ! we're not in training, the bad guys are the assholes over there idiot ! »

he was quick to get out of the way, but you made it easy to keep him in your grip

« don't be silly katsuki, you know we were never on the same side. », you say in a voice filled with pain.

you understood well what he was doing, the young blond is a smart and a clever man although he didn't let anything show in class

he simply refused to accept the truth, hiding his face

without saying anything, he pushed you away and went to attack the villains who were starting to flee

this time, and it was the last, you tackled him to the ground so that he

you didn't know about this surprise attack by the villain league, the last thing you wanted was for this mission to go wrong and katsuki to get hurt.

his expression was a mixture of anger and pain

« DON'T THINK I'M GOING TO LET YOU ESCAPE JUST BECAUSE WE'RE IN THE SAME CLASS Y/N! » his voice broke in mid-sentence.

you felt your throat tighten, it was the first time he had used your name.

Why did it have to happen in this particular situation?

it had been a while since he had stopped struggling, only his bruised eyes were still trying to struggle

you didn't answer, a heavy silence was between you despite the mess around you

« answer me, damn it... » , his voice had calmed down, but you could still feel the anger simmering.

« you couldn't understand katsuki. » you fled his gaze, your hands still holding him.

he let out a dry laugh.

« yeah, you're just like all the rest. »

bakugo was still stronger than you, in just a second he was up and pushing you away.

he turned his back on you.

« go away. but i will find you. »

[jeannereames]

Why do you think was Alexander so fond of Poros? He seemed especially insistent on befriending Poros/earning his favor as an equal compared to the other opponents he (Alexander) had faced.

Well, first, remember that what we have are the accounts by later writers. So it might be better to ask why our historians wanted to present Alexander as fond of Poros. 😊

Poros is a contrast to Darius, from the Greek (and later Roman) point of view. Darius fled the field twice. To Greeks (and Romans) that looked like cowardice. Modern historians understand that, in the Ancient Near East, for a king to DIE on a battlefield was the worst of omens, and his safety had to be protected at all costs. Yet it was common for losing Greek generals, many of whom led from the front, to die on the battlefield. It was expected: properly “heroic” leadership. Roman views weren’t that different, even after they’d stopped leading from the front.

Ergo, Greco-Roman accounts of Darius tend to present him as weak. What hear little of, from our Greco-Roman sources. is that Poros was, in fact, a formidable hand-to-hand fighter. It’s how he drew support to come to the throne in the first place! He was anything but a coward. YET, again, Persian kings had a symbolic role not just a military one. So it really didn’t matter if he’d have liked to fight Alexander one-on-one. He had to be protected.

By contrast, Poros stayed on the field until the bitter end and was taken prisoner. India, especially at that time, celebrated military bravery and leadership, and a king was expected to stand with his people, or go down with the ship. It was more in line with Greco-Roman views. Poros was also, apparently, pretty damn impressive, physically.

Therefore, our authors hold up Poros as the “anti-Darius.” Note Poros’s response to Alexander, “Treat me like a king.”

Poros is a REAL king. Darius isn’t.

Now, to what degree these depictions reflect Alexander’sview is hard to say. But it seems Alexander did like Poros, once he’d met him, or at least thought he was a good ally in the region…a better one than the “other” Poros, who had initially been his supporter. Alexander was no fool. He needed a strong ally on this edge of his empire. In return, he supported Poros’s own ambitions in the region, awarding him additional land. So it was a win-win for each man. I don’t discredit there may have been real affection there, but they were political actors, as well.

It seems Poros remained loyal. After Alexander’s death, most of the other rajas fell away, but Poros did not. Again, maybe that owed to actual affection (I’d like to think so), but it may also have benefited him, depending on how secure his grip was on his new territory. Threat of retribution from Alexander’s successor might have helped him retain control. Information traveled slowly, so it’s hard to know at what point the Indian edge of the empire learned how much of a dumpster-fire the succession had become.

But all this is a WONDERFUL area for further research, considered from an Indian point of view and using Indian sources. What benefit might Poros have received from allying with this very alien aggressor? The rest of Alexander’s march down the Indus was a brutal butchery of the local populations. So why did Poros remain loyal. Even… DID Poros remain loyal, or is that a Western fiction?

(I enjoyed what I’ve seen of the Swastic Productions Poros TV series, but I never quite made it to Alexander’s arrival. The link stopped working, alas. I don’t know enough about Indian history to judge it’s accuracy, but I really liked seeing the story from another angle. Although I will say, again, Olympias got a bad treatment. But I need to find a still working link. Also, I understand and series on Chadragupta followed on its heels, to tell the rest of the story.)

[ladyeliot]

Damn melody.

Request: @mostly-marvel-musings​ : Well hi there!! If you’re up for it, could you do a no. 1 and 7 with Tony Stark from your Superhero prompts please?!

Pairing: Superhero!Tony Stark x Villain!Fem!Reader

Summary: You have been trying for a long time to get the documentation that explained the creation of his AI, and that time you almost succeeded.

Warnings: SMUT⚡(+18). Touching, unprotected sex, dirty talk.

Word count: 2186

A/N:  This is the first time I write a smut, I’m afraid. Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.

Superhero vs Villain!Reader Prompts

The confrontation had made your insides scream in pain. You prayed that nothing and no one would stand in your way as you drove to your lair at extreme speed. The meeting with Iron Man had been planned from the beginning, your chances to get the documentation where the process of development of his AI based on his own genetics was located had been scarce during the last months, but that day you almost made it. The word “surrender” was not in your vocabulary and never would be.

You arrived at your hideout on the outskirts of New York County with barely a breath. Your body was full of bruises and you felt how blood could wash over your face. Your radar sense could do little at that time, Tony had prepared for your arrival and his AI had restricted the electromagnetic emissions that helped heighten all your senses. So that confrontation was catastrophic, little could your martial arts and combat strategy skills do against the legion of drones that awaited you.

As soon as you stepped on the floor you stood in front of a mirror, your appearance was sickly, your right shoulder was dislocated and that was accompanied by the cut on your forehead, making you look like the ruin personified. You slowly lowered the zip of the black lycra suit that was sticking to your body, preventing the pain in your shoulder from making you squirm even more.  You left the upper part of your body uncovered, covered only with a bra, which showed a series of hematomas covering the abdomen. Internally you found yourself cursing that person and his power, and you imagined the day when you would finally finish with him.

You took a breath and looked at yourself again in front of the mirror, your eyes had darkened from the rage you felt, that was the best time to place the dislocated shoulder bone, but your internal receptor regions, which were slowly recovering, emanated a signal in your body. You quickly grabbed one of the knives hidden in the back of your ankle and stood on guard. The house was dark, all silent, but a slight breath came into your ears, and it was not yours.

You came down the stairs slowly, the breathing could be heard more clearly, that meant you were approaching it. Your sense of smell quickly discovered who it was and where it was. It was impossible for you to return after what had just happened and better still, how had she found you and how had she overcome the security measures?

“Why do you have a room full of pictures and articles about yourself?  you opened the door very carefully and there he was.

He wasn’t wearing the Iron Man suit, instead he was wearing a black Tom Ford suit, accompanied by a red tie, but even so, you knew perfectly well that that didn’t mean he didn’t have his Iron Man suit on him. Tony was in the middle of your small private laboratory, specifically observing a corner where there were photographs of you analyzing facial changes when your emitting and receiving regions were set in motion. The hand holding the knife was shaking from the pain in your right shoulder, and when Tony looked away from you he noticed.

“An interesting sight,” he said, gazing at your naked upper body. He reached into his Tom Ford’s pocket. “Just like this place.”

“What are you doing here?” you spit out those words as if the life in them was gone.

“I only care about you,” he approached the center table and picked up a small gadget in his hands. “External receiving regions, very interesting. Is that what has kept you away from my lab so far?”

Your breath accelerated as you contemplated the behaviour of the person in front of you, he walked around as if nothing had happened and his indifference made your blood boil. Finally he stopped and watched you pointing at your shoulder passively.

“That looks painful,” he said, arching his eyebrows. “I think I’d better put that on you.“ 

"Don’t you dare come any closer…”

“Okay,” he raised his hands and put them back in his pockets. “I just wanted to be nice.”

His tone of voice definitely contained hints of impassivity, but also of disdain and arrogance, all of which shaped that man. So, thanks to your own pride, which gave you strength, you took a breath and in one quick movement put the bone back in place, hiding the moans of pain while clenching your teeth very tightly. The last thing you wanted was to give him the satisfaction of seeing you suffer in front of him again.

“You’re enjoying it,” you said, getting your breathing back to normal. “What do you want? Have you come to gloat over your success?”

“No, that’s not my style,” he said without hesitation and then pointed to the knife you were holding in your left hand. “Why don’t you put down that knife so we can talk like civilized people?”

“Do you think that after today I’m going to be in front of you without a weapon?” you held your breath, chin up.

A smile of arrogance spread across your opponent’s face, causing your body to quiver. Tony, noticing the event, smiled slightly and took a step towards you, which caused you to step back away from him. The tension of the environment was evident, and your uninvited guest had the ability to take control in such situations.

“Are you scared?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.

“Scared?” you stood firmly keeping your gaze fixed on his. “Why do you think I should be afraid?

"Perhaps because if I had wanted to, you would have been dead…” he looked at his watch indifferently. “Two hours.”

You mumbled, clenching your fist around the knife and wanting to stab him as soon as he got a slip.

“And if you’re so sure of it, why didn’t you?” you asked, leaving your lips half open and arching an eyebrow, as Tony continued to approach with airs and graces.

“And what are you waiting for to finish up and put that knife through my neck?” he asked, leaving his lips half open a short distance away. “Stop flirting and kill me.

How could he dare to think what you were flirting with him about? You knew you had all the power at that very moment, as he had said you could put an end to that story, but your body was extremely blocked, and his last words didn’t help either. All your senses were heightened at that moment, you felt the touch of the dried blood on your forehead, you listened to his breathing intensely as it crashed into your face and you could smell his woody perfume mixed with the whiskey emanating from his mouth.

“Like what you see?” Tony whispered, drawing a smug smile on his face that caused your gaze to turn to his lips. 

“You’re not taking me to bed,” you spit out the words finding some lucidity in your brain. "Ever.”

Tony’s lips opened to show how his tongue slowly danced to his lips. You knew what his game was, you had seen it on several occasions in the charity galas he organized, and you were not willing to fall into it, as it was surely a distraction to achieve something. He was only a few inches from your body, your breasts were almost touching, a subtle movement from one of you and the contact was made. He was teasing you, gloating while keeping his gaze fixed on your lips.

“Who said it had to be on the bed?” 

You felt his fingers touching your naked belly, slowly caressing each of the bruises that the dispute with Iron Man had caused you. He turned his gaze to them but quickly turned it back to your lips. Your jaw tightened but when you felt Tony’s lips fall slightly on your right shoulder the tension in your body dissipated. You closed your eyes and let his lips run down your neck, making his tongue come into play as well. Although all your senses were on his actions, you held the knife firmly in your left hand. 

“Look at you…” he whispered a few millimeters away from your neck. His voice was hoarse and it was killing you. “Two hours ago you wanted to kill me and now you’re moaning at my touch.”

With your eyes still closed, your mouth curved into a smile of arrogance.

"Look at you…” you imitated his words. “Two hours ago you wanted to kill me and now you can’t resist putting a hand on me.”

You opened your eyes to meet Tony’s dilated pupils, radiating uncontrolled lust. In one swift movement he guided you to the nearest wall behind you, causing your body to collide with force and severe pain in all your contusions. You couldn’t stop a small moan from coming from inside your throat, a mixture of pain and excitement.

“I think thats the first time I’ve heard you moan…” he said, brushing his teeth against your skin before biting you.  “It was like a fucking melody.”

Another groan came from between your lips. You wanted to touch him, you needed to touch him. The knife slipped from between your fingers leaving a dry sound when it hit the ground. As soon as you were free of it you reached for his tie, but he quickly spun you around hard preventing you from having any chance to touch his body. You could have easily gotten rid of his tether, especially when his defenses were so low, but you did not. Tony quickly unzipped your suit leaving your whole body exposed.

Your legs opened up in need, and he soon realised that gesture, unsubtly holding his hand so that his fingers touched your clit, while he brusquely brought his length to your ass.

"I haven’t even touched you and you’re already this wet.” His voice was so dark that it caused your wetness to intensify.

“I haven’t even taken your clothes off and you’re already this hard” you gave a half smile as you bit into your lower lip, feeling his fingers dancing on your folds.

“Oh baby, you know, you really shouldn’t tease me,” he muttered, bringing two of his fingers inside you, causing both of you to groan.

You didn’t know if it was Tony Stark’s possessive behaviour, or the intensification of all your senses, but your body began to tremble. As if the marks he’d made on you that day weren’t enough, his tongue was marking your neck.

“You take my fingers so well don’t you?”

“Shut up and take your pants off.” You ordered to blindly reach out to meet his cock, which was begging to be released.

“Oh honey, you sound so needy” he mocked increasing the speed of his fingers inside you while his thumb stimulated your clitoris. “Let’s see how quickly you can cum.

You moved your hips to intensify the friction, while he, with his other hand, unzipped his trousers and released his erection. You felt that the climax was near, your legs could barely hold you and your breath, which was broken between moans, informed you that you were going to fall down in just a couple of seconds. It was just when you were on the edge that Tony withdrew his fingers leaving you empty, but not for long.

He grabbed your hips and pulled you closer to his body to slide into you with one blow. That feeling of pleasure that you experienced when you felt him completely inside and heard his moaning in your ear, made you free yourself from all the accumulated tension. Tony brought his hand back to your clitoris, slowly rubbing your thigh, sending you to the edge.

You groaned in desperation, calling out his name as if life were your own, which caused you to squeeze his cock even harder.

"My name sounds so good when it comes from your lips,” Tony intensified the speed of friction, crashing into your hips with more force. “Shit, you’re so adorable that I think I could even forgive you.”

The warmth of your interior continued to be latent until you felt it overflow inside you, filling you with all its pleasure and desire. Your breaths were completely out of sync at a frantic pace. Tony held you by the waist, avoiding putting his fingers on the bruises.

“Please remind me again why we are having sex,” you said leaning your forehead against the wall and trying to return to your normal breathing.

“Do you really need me to explain?"  Tony whispered, kissing your naked back as he pulled his cock out from inside you, causing a soft moan in your throat.  "There’s that damn melody again…”

Tag list: @imerdwarf @mycosmicparadise @lavendertales

Requests/Taglist Open (DM)

MAIN MASTERLIST

[thorns-and-rosewings]

Additional Owl House/ Gargoyles AU Info: OCs

Here we are with some more information regarding the AU, only this will time it will be focusing on the 3 OCs whose pics I posted a little while ago since I didn't think anyone wanted the bios jammed onto their pics.

Hope y'all think these are interesting. :)

-----Rhiannon Frostflame

Nicknames and Aliases: Rhyan or Rhya (Default nicknames) The Wyvern Witch, Ice Queen, The Best Healer on the Isles, Cruel and Fearless, Frozen Flame

Age: Roughly the same as Eda

Palisman: A Wyvern named Wisteria

Magic Specialty: Healing Magic, but is a master of Ice Magic and has created a unique spell of burning blue fire that inflicts awful frostbite and severe necrosis on anyone it comes into contact with...

Friends/Associates: Eda Clawthorne (Best friend and drinking buddy) Raine Whispers (A close friend who in spite of falling out of contact with, Rhiannon still holds them in high regards) Shaelyn Silverstone (Apprentice and Ward) Warden Wrath (Occasional Employer) Fiadh Stonespire (Grandmother figure/deceased)

Background: Rhiannon was born into one of the larger clans of the last name 'Stonespire' that still chose to follow the Gargoyle Way of communally raising their children and protecting their estate and other landholdings. They were also extremely prideful of their skilled members they contributed to the Construction Coven. From a young age, Rhiannon was considered strange due to her shunning of the clans expectations and rather developed an interest in becoming a member of the Healing Coven. Although in her youth she was particularly bad at anything involving healing, having turned several small animals inside out in her attempts to mend their injuries. Her lack of skill and stubborn pursuit of her dreams led her to be alienated from nearly all of the clan who began to treat her as an annoyance if not an embarrassment. The only individuals who showed her any affection were an older female Gargoyle named Fiadh, who Rhiannon viewed as her grandmother and Saoirse, the only rookery sister who cared about her and supported her goals.

Her fierce dedication to studying and mastering healing magics eventually paid off and she not only excelled, but grew to master every healing spell and even learned a myriad of techniques all aimed at helping others. Of course on the flip side of this, through her studies of how to heal she also learned how to inflict immense pain on others. Knowing to attack certain points where an opponent is weak in order to defeat them in a brawl, as it seemed to Rhiannon that most witches and demons had forgotten how to fight without using magic and thus a physical fight is something she can use to her advantage... And she got into fights A LOT.

When she finished her education and applied to the Healing Coven she found that she was denied membership due to her clan contacting the head of the Coven and warning him against letting her join due to her poor skills as a healer... As they had not paid attention to her enough to know of her improvement and eventual mastery of the art.

Denied her dream, humiliated by her so called clan and filled with an anger that could not be put into words, Rhiannon lost her temper and broke the jaw of the Coven Head and fled. Stating she was now going to live her life as a Wild Witch and never give a damn about anyone else ever again. She was promptly disowned by her clan, which was fine with her. She gave herself the last name of Frostflame after the spell she had created and has become synonymous with her very existence.

Personality: Rhiannon is a bit of a contradiction. At first she comes off as cold, calculating and selfish. She is extremely sarcastic and tends to believe that someone 'Can get away with anything, as long as they are useful to someone else.' Which is how she, as a Wild Witch, doesn't have a bounty on her head nor any warrents for her arrest. As she is a freelance healer whom people come to see when they either can't afford to go to the Healing Coven, or do not want there to be a record of the visit... But also members of both the Emperor's Coven and town guards bet on her in the underground fights and thus overlook that she is not in any coven... She is also not above blackmail and is currently holding a massive gambling debt over the head of Coven Head Darius. As further insurance to keep from being arrested or have the Covens forcing her to join.

However... If someone truly gets to know her, Rhiannon is a very devoted, kind hearted person who has been so burnt by the world she no longer desires to be a part of it. She has sympathy for those less fortunate than her and does genuinely wish to help the people who seek her out in need of help. She has an special soft spot in her heart for kids. Especially since in the depths of her ice cold heart she truly longs for a family. This is somewhat evident in how she took in Shaelyn and has done her best to watch out for the younger gargoyle. However her own bias's can be detrimental to the relationships she has... As she has repeatedly told Shaelyn to forget about finding out what happened to her family and missing memories. Arguing that if she forgot them there's probably a good reason for it. Which has led to a rift between her and her apprentice.

-----Shaelyn Silverstone

Nicknames and Aliases: Shae, (Default Nickname) Lyn-Lyn (From Luz)

Age: Roughly 15

Palisman: None at the moment

Magic Specialty: Is attending both the Plant track and the Oracle track in Hexside. As she has unusual visions... both while she is awake and in her sleep. These visions often warn of dark events yet to happen or strange unknown things from a past she cannot remember. While not being taught healing at Hexside, Shaelyn is receiving training in healing magics straight from her guardian Rhiannon. Due to the talent of her mentor, she doesn't believe she could learn more from the school in that subject. As for the plant track... She is in that to both hang out with her friend Willow but also to help with Rhiannons garden which tends to grow out of control more often than not. As well as helping maintain the health of the tree Rhiannon's house is currently sitting in...

Friends/Associates: Willow Park, Gus Porter and Luz Noceda (Best Friends) Rhiannon (Guardian)

Background: Little is known about Shaelyns past beyond her name. Try as she might the young Gargoyle cannot remember much of her life prior to her being found in the wrecked hull of a ship that was brought ashore by a bad storm. While she has 'Shadows of Memories' she cannot remember where exactly she was from or even the faces of her parents. Rhiannon found the girl when she was looking through the wreck and happened upon her buried underneath several heavy cargo boxes with a broken wing and a very bloody head wound. Rhiannon took her back to her home, deep in the woods and healed her. Upon realizing that the girl had no family and no memories and that she would be left in probably one of the orphanages on the Isles, Rhiannon took her in as her apprentice and Shae has been living with her for the last five years.

Although Shaelyn is in awe of her mentor and greatly admires and respects her, she often feels like a burden. Their relationship is not like that of a mother and daughter, but is probably closer to that of sisters. Or of an older sister attempting to be a mother to a younger sibling in the absence of any parents... Shae also has gone through several different means to try and find out what happened to her family... but her search has led to nothing but dead ends. It doesn't help that Rhiannon often tells her to let the subject of her family drop as she would not have forgotten them if they were close... And how she might not like what she finds if she ever does find anything.

Nonetheless, Rhiannon has done her best to take care of Shae and has enrolled her at Hexside, so she can learn other magics that Rhiannon cannot teach. It was here that Shaelyn came across the sight of Amity and Boscha bullying Willow... And using the other skills Rhyan has taught her, Shae started throwing punches and beat up both of the bullies and warned them to leave Willow alone lest they receive another beating... This was how she initially met Willow and later on Gus and the three formed a very close friendship. Some time later Luz would be introduced and Shae grows to be just as protective of her as she is of her other two friends.

Personality: Shaelyn is quite friendly and outgoing with her friends and is the first one to come to the defense of a kid that is getting bullied. Due to her training with Rhiannon she is actually pretty good at fighting physically... Unfortunately in earlier times this put Shae into direct conflict with Amity as she was often quite mean to Willow... Unaware of Amity's true nature, let alone the bullying she received from her family. Like her mentor, Shae can hold a grudge and has a long memory of people who wrong her and her friends... Only unlike Rhiannon she is more willing to give someone a second chance or allow them to make amends... This lets her and Amity to eventually become friends... Although she and Boscha will never get along and Shae will continue to administer black eyes whenever the other girl starts looking for a fight. But when it comes to complete strangers, Shaelyn can be very wary... As was evident when she and the others were looking at booths set up by the Covens for recruitment and she was approached by Hunter as the Golden Guard. Now Hunter, with his very lackluster social skills was attempting to just talk nicely and give Shae a few compliments... Unfortunately for him he came off as aloof and mocking her. This resulted in two punches to his helm and three into his ribs. The blows to the mask dented it so badly it became stuck and the blows to his ribs made it difficult to breathe... Resulting in him passing out and needing to be carried away by Steve.

Undoubtedly when she learns more about Hunter, she will be remorseful for kicking his ass.

-----Saoirse Fireglass

Nicknames: Saer (General Nickname) The Glass Maker, The Crystal Witch, Firebender and Wannabe-Matchmaker (From Rhiannon)

Age: Same as Rhiannon

Palisman: A unique serpent with four eyes and a golden moth shaped hood named Amaranth

Magic Specialty: Construction magic with the specialty of glassmaking and crystal working. She is also capable of using fire spells in a fight.

Friends/Associates: Rhiannon (Rookery sister and best friend) Eda Clawthorne (Friend) Lilith Clawthorne (Friend) Shaelyn (Niece-figure)

Background: Saoirse was born into the same clan and was even from the same clutch as Rhiannon, born with the family name of Stonespire. However unlike her Rookery sister, Saoirse was considered to be one of the most magically gifted gargoyles that had ever been born into the clan. She displayed immense talent in the construction track and was even able to master a very difficult branch of the track that dealt with glassmaking and crystal working. In spite of the heaps of praise and accolades she received amidst her family, she developed a close friendship with Rhyan and was always deeply off-put when she witnessed how she was ostracized by other members of their clan. Still upon completing her schooling she was quickly brought into the Construction Coven and was even taken under the wing of the Coven Head for a time.

But when Rhiannon was cast out from their clan, Saoirse was livid. One of the few times anyone could truly remember her getting angry. She was pretty much told by the clan leader that Rhiannon was a disgrace and that Saer was always special and brought a great deal of respect and admiration to their entire clan with her talent... so she needed to stop defending that lost soul and continue to move forward and possibly become the next Coven Head...

Saoirse formally cut ties with the clan right then and there.

She gave herself a new name and while still formally a member of the Construction Coven, she chose to renounce any Coven status she had an instead opened her own business. She did so with the blessing of the Coven Head, who remains her good friend to this day.

When it comes to her wayward Rookery sister, Saer deeply worries about Rhyan and would love to see her find a place in the world rather than trying to live outside it. Although she knows that the stubborn Wild Witch is unlikely to ever change her ways without reason...

Personality: Unlike Rhiannon, Saer is a bubbly, friendly and outgoing individual who always looks for the good in people... In fact she is probably one of the few people who believes there just might be some good inside the Emperor's heart. (When she voiced this Rhiannon laughed so hard she swallowed the cigarette she was smoking.) Due to this kind nature she has, Rhyan frequently worries about her being taken advantage of... Fortunately Saoirse also is quick witted and can pretty quickly tell if someone is trying to pull a fast one on her. She also has a weird gift for matchmaking, as she can just tell when two people are right for each other. It's something that Rhiannon frequently teases her about.

...Until she finds one stranger who seems to be just perfect for the Wild Witch...

[katsukikitten]

Warnings College AU sexual and adult themes. Yall know the drill okay

Chapter 2

Bugzapper⚡💔: i have a proposition to make. 

Jiro flashes Mina her phone as she sips iced coffee in the blessed air conditioning of the cafe.

"That's never a good sign." She comments, moon bright eyes glued to the phone as she thinks. 

"What's not a good sign?" Uraraka asks from across the table, the two girls fill her in. 

"Oh." She racks her brain on what that could be, "Okay well I'm dying to know, now." 

🎵Music to my soul 🎶 : What do you want airhead? 

Jiro's text sent a surge of excitement through Kaminari. It was exactly what he needed after three hours of begging and bribing Bakugou to allow the sorority in or at least invite them. His fingers fly across the screen setting up a date and time for a "meeting over lunch" to discuss the proposition in further detail.  

Meanwhile across campus, you huff, eyes narrowed as a rare emotion is pulled from your fingertips in the form of deadly ice. Pulling the moisture from the air to freeze it or pulling any water towards you to keep your flank safe as your opponent rushes you at breakneck speeds. 

You hated this fucking guy, cocky, brash, so God damn arrogant in the way he held himself, in the way he spoke. It made you nauseous just thinking of him.Had you known he was the male star of this university you wouldn't have transferred, yet you still needed to transfer didn't you? Anything to get out from under the shadow of a certain Todoroki. 

No one cared to admit or to notice, that your quirk was different from Shoto's. You could manipulate water towards you to freeze, and manipulate whatever was already frozen. Your ice was denser and more durable than his and dare you say it colder than his too. Yet no one gave a shit, his was ice AND fire. You were just a one trick pony and a trick they already saw. Your opponent's taunting doesn't help matters much.

"I've already seen this before Ice Brat. Did ya forget where I fucking went to high school?" His hand heats the ice as he activates his quirk before three deafening blasts ring out. 

As you allow him to break down the ice you act on pure rage, securing some revenge from the first time he signed your hair. Pointed icicles lie in wait and once the wall is fully down you give him a nasty smirk before sending the straight his way. 

You're supposed to melt your weapons before they hit your opponent, neither of you are supposed to go all out per the professor's and college's strict rules in the athletics department but Bakugou always does. Somehow his big stupid mouth spews something that eggs you on. As if someone were shoving bamboo skewers beneath your skin, under your nails, sending you into an unheard of rage. 

Normally you were as your quirk, icy, unbothered by the world but Bakugou, God you could wring his neck. Freeze his hot blood as you watch him turn into slush beneath your feet. 

He expects you to abide by the rules, to splash him with glacier water but he realizes it too late. That you won't he let's off a quick blast, shattering two of the four deadly points. One grazes his cheek as he just barely dodges while the other lodges itself into his arm. 

You have half a mind to twist it. You pull at his blood bringing it into your arsenal. Blood red needles and bullets surround Bakugou. 

"I don't think you've seen this before.." You say darkly ready to release your hold and shred him into, give him a taste of his own medicine. Maybe he would see how bitter and nauseating he was. He smirks, opening his mouth to retort but you send your ice his way aiming for non vital spots although the ice creeps closer to your heart begging it to hit something vital. The inside of your ice palace begins to reek of burning sugar and spice, he plans to let out an explosion to bring this whole place down from the inside out. 

Just as he is about to detonate and just as the blood and ice are about to pierce skin the professor bursts into the gym.  

"I step out for five minutes and this is what happens?!"

The ice and blood return to liquid splashing across Bakugou as his skin pops. The professor takes in the damage from your ice and his explosions, still better controlled than most of his other students quirks. 

"I gotta stop pairing these two together." He murmurs to himself before dismissing class. With a flick of your wrist the ice fortress melts, returning to the reservoir below the gym floor, ignoring the molten glare that is sent your way.

"You're such a bitch." Bakugou growls as you pass, flinging blood from his fingers as he wipes at his face. You offer him a fake pitying smile before heading into the women's locker room. 

"Fucking asshole." You hiss, forcing the sight of his garnet gaze out of your mind. Instead turning your attention to your buzzing phone in your locker. It's a few missed calls and some texts in the girl's group chat. Briefly you wonder if you ever should have joined that stupid sorority, it was small, non toxic, and would look good should you need to transfer again. 

Not only did you somehow get elected the president but you also became friends with the three other ladies despite your best efforts not too. 

Mins: Prez we might have a way to save the sorority...lunch after you're done with training? 

IceQueen ❄: Hope it's good, the Dean already put the house up for sale. Let me get ready and I'll be there shortly. 

Mina presents her phone to the crowd around her, Kirishima, Denki, Sero, Jiro and Uraraka do a small celebration. Denki more so than anyone else, he knows the combined car washes will be more than enough to fix up the house, he also recently learned that you had the power of negotiation on your side. Having just listened to Mina retell the story of how you got free food for a month from a bar for yourself and your friends. And not from some sleaze who wanted to sleep with you either, no it was from the owner himself. 

Denki is hopeful and so are the ladies indicating that this may be his best idea yet. 

You arrive at the small bistro early, spying your party on the front patio. The three men had seen you in person before, they knew you were easy on the eyes but up close you were breathtaking. Manicured nails but nothing gaudy, normally nude or soft shades, light makeup, mascara at most as far as they could tell and your outfit was well put together. You were what the world called plus size but everyone else called thiccc. Your confidence oozing in your light blouse tucked into your black skinny jeans, uncaring that you had a pouch. 

You needed that extra fat to keep from freezing by your own quirk. The only thing you needed society to worry about was your intelligence and your power. 

Both were SSR ranked so what did you fucking care that your body was ranked lower. They were stupid in thinking you'd skimp power in the name of vanity. 

You recognize everyone at the table and internalize the dread you're feeling. Scheming is afoot and you're the last to arrive. You can tell by their half finished drinks and picked over appetizer, still you sit and act unaware. Denki goes to hold out his hand first for a formal introduction causing a sly cat smile to settle over your glossy lips. 

"No need, I'm aware of who the three of you are. Sero we share our lingual class, Denki, our chemistry class, and Kirishima we share two classes, world studies and villain hero theory. Truly a pleasure." You tell then your name before ordering something to drink from the lingering waitress. Sitting stick straight with your shoulders backs has the men mirroring you. 

"Well ladies I take it the plan to save the sorority involves these fine gentlemen." You ask coolly and they nod. After a moment of silence Mina and Denki go to speak. Awkwardly encouraging the other to speak until Minai clears her throat. 

"As you know they are a newly formed frat with Sero as their president. They moved into their house about a month ago and they say it is quite large. So they have invited us to move in." 

"How do you propose we ask the college to have a co-ed house? What does this fraternity home even look like?" They knew you would be quick to ask questions Mina answers the first while Denki provides the answer to the second. 

"Union and Diversity. Forming close relationships now to carry over into our hero careers." 

"The house needs some work but looks a lot better than what it did." Denki shows you before and after pictures as you gesture for his phone. He passes you his electric yellow case with nervous hope tingling beneath his skin. You swipe through the photos. 

"You boys did a great job on the outside. Inside needs a lot of work. Hardwoods will be easy to fix, they are original but don't seen to be damaged, a good scrub will spruce them up. Wait, are those?" You zoom in on the photo of the living room, "Are those foldable camping chairs and a VHS tv?" 

They gulp loudly as they nod, your purse your lips in disapproval. 

"I can fix that." You pass Denki back his phone, assuming that all the roommates will be present, "I see the main focus was the kitchen but some of the appliances seem to be on their last legs. I can fix that as well." 

"Soooo….So it's a yes?" Jiro asks, feeling relief for the first time in months since they received the letter of eviction. 

"Gotta get the college to agree first." You think on it a moment, "But I'm sure we can arrange that. Uraraka can you draft an email to the Dean requesting an official meeting regarding our sorority? Be sure to explain in detail our situation, how we are being forced to disband by their account and the solution we have. Make sure it's an afternoon meeting too. The dean hates to miss golf with our rival university's dean." 

With the plan set in motion all of you return to your evening classes. Jiro nudges Denki in the ribs, listening to his heart race from their closeness. 

"When are we going to tell her about Bakugou?" She throws her almost lover a look that he seems to wither beneath. His jaw tics before he retorts. 

"I think we should wait to see if this even works first." 

After a week the important meeting arrives and as you thought the Dean is already exhibiting signs of impatience. He is more than ready to wrap this up and you already know his answer is going to be no. Already trying to get it out before the four of you can even have a seat. 

Still you weren't the Ice Queen on campus for nothing. You saunter into the room, mineola folder filled with your copies of counterpoints pressed firmly to your chest, you can already see he doesn't have the copies you sent him. You place the folder down and open it, leafing through the pages as you speak. 

"This request is going to be approved and here are the reasons why. An example of sexism could be made that a new fraternity was approved housing, new housing, after a decades old sorority was deemed "too small" both parties are similar in count. Second funding and donations are easily influenced with letters to alumni and especially by attendees to this university. My transfer from YAU has brought in revenue of roughly 2.6 million dollars, increasing your diversity for women when this is normally a male dominated school. I am aware that my transfer had even encouraged other students from YAU to transfer here. Which I'm sure is one of your favorite bragging points to tell Dean Fraunk during your weekly golf trips isn't it? So it would truly be a shame if these points would come to light in the investigation of my return to YUA just months before the university sports festival. I do look amazing in Ice Blue you know. Matches my quirk a lot better than Maroon." You put the ball in his court, he is visibly upset, eyes flying to the facts that you've presented. All important, viable facts. You were right MMU was known to be a male dominated school and the media would have a field day if they uncovered a mistake he happened to look over. Not to mention you were his main bragging point, Dean Yuzi always talked about how he had stolen you, the female star of rising heroes, from YUA.  The silence in the room is amplified by the ticking of the clock, seconds accumulating into minutes as it counts down his T time with his old college buddy and rival. He gulps nervously, knowing what he has to do in order to keep both his bragging rights and a law suit under wraps. He looks up to you as you wear your stone cold face, making him think of a loan shark who hasn't been getting their payments on time. He is fearful for your future boss.  

"I believe I have no choice but to approve." 

"Correct." You respond, "Now we have a bit more to discuss. I noticed that classrooms 456 and 215 are being remodeled. Those gently used flat screens will be given to our house since it is technically college property. Common space 3 and 1 are being renovated in dorms A and B. We will accept the leather arm chairs as they are in good shape but we demand a new couch. I know it is in the budget as I help plan the budget. I also believe it is time for an allowance for our hybrid house." The Dean shrinks away from your tenacity, nodding as that is all he can do.  

"Well this is a generous offer and should cover most of the basic necessities such as a new fridge and mattress. The aesthetic we will be raising funds for. Kindly spread the word, we don't want to take up more of your time and be late with your 'meeting' with Dean Fraunk." You place a flyer on his desk as you turn on your heel. The rest of the sorority, mouth agape following suit. Yuzi looks down at the flyer, head hung in a mixture of disbelief and shame as he reads over the neon paper advertising a co-ed car wash. 

He just hopes you and Bakugou are worth the trouble. 

[archerofthemists]

My own personal headcanons and theories for Tyrian's childhood. No he doesn't NEED a tragic backstory but damn it I'm gonna give him one

Warnings: death/hate crime/faunus racism

(I love how the theory that Tyrian was in a faunus circus as a kid is so wide spread. Maybe we'll get lucky and get it in cannon)

Tyrian was born in the poor outskirts of Vacuo. It unfortunately was a very racist and hostile place to grow up. 

Tyrians mother Iris Callows was a single mother. Tyrian never knew his father, a huntsman who had died before he was born. 

Iris was a scorpion faunus as well. When Tyrian was first born, she carried him on her back in a cloth baby sack the majority of the time, including while she worked in hot fields, miserable work that was typically done by faunus who desperately needed the money. 

Iris loved her little scorpling dearly. He was always a little ball of excitement and energy, the sunlight in her dark and lonely world.

They were poor, but she gave Tyrian the best life she could provide. She did her best to protect him from the outside world where she knew all too well the horrible things that could be said and done to her child. 

Due to little money Iris did her best to homeschool her son, however as a young and single mother with no one to turn to, and working a full time job to keep food on the table, it was hard and Tyrian's education was spotty.

Despite this, Tyrian was a very happy child. He had a good imagination and kept himself entertained by playing in the desert that surrounded their small home. 

Tyrian was six years old when his mother left him. Or, at least that's what he believed. 

When harvest seasons were over, Iris would work odd jobs in the kingdom, trying to make ends meet. 

Tyrian had entered a very bratty phase, growing to an age where he wanted other friends, real people. Iris didn't know how to explain to him how dangerous the world was. She wanted to shield him from its ugliness, but deep down she knew she couldn't do that forever. Even other faunus had shunned her due to her dangerous trait. Faunus with their own venom were almost unheard of. There was the occasional snake faunus that happened to be venomous, gifted with a lethal set of fangs, but certainly nothing as obvious as a powerful tail, tipped with poison.

To this day Tyrian can't quite remember what sparked the fight. All he remembered was he and his mother were yelling at each other and in a fit of anger his tail had swung out and broken something. It had been something made of porcelain and had been precious to Iris. It was one of her few possessions that her husband had given her before his untimely death.

Tyrian still remembers the pained look in his mother's eyes, the tears that welled and eventually streamed down her pale cheeks.

He immediately began apologizing as his mother scooped up the broken pieces, shaking her head.

"Please don't be mad…"

"I'm not mad. I'm just disappointed."

Tyrian watched her leave. She had to get to work and being faunus she was already on thin ice. Being late at all would surely result in being fired. 

Tyrian felt guilty and gross. He'd never seen his mother cry before. He didn't like it. He spent most of the evening scrounging the house for glue and desperately piecing the figure back together. He was sure that it would make his mother happy when she came home from work late that night.

Only she never returned. As far as Tyrian knew she had abandoned him. He had been a bad child, a bad son and his mother had left him alone because of it. He waited for days but eventually the little food in the house ran out and Tyrian knew he would have to leave at some point. Maybe someone in the kingdome could help him? But no, his mother had warned him all his life about how dangerous humans could be towards their kind.

However, she had left him no choice, had she?

Wandering around the edges of the kingdome, he slipped food from vendors and went mostly unnoticed. His tail was wrapped snugly around his waist and looked like a belt, no one gave him a second glance.

However, a vendor's large dog had smelled him and recognized the smell of a faunus. Tyrian had unknowingly wandered into a humans only section of the markets. The dog, trained to attack at the smell of faunus did not hesitate to lunge at the small child and Tyrian responded quickly. Almost without thinking he struck the dog dead, his stinger buried in its furry chest. 

Of course this gave away his cover and the vendor began screaming at Tyrian for killing his dog. 

Out of nowhere a tall man came up behind Tyrian and gently placed his hands on the child's shoulders. "I'm sorry sir, my boy here still isn't used to the great kingdoms. I'll happily pay for your dog."

The man had a rugged looking top hat and goatee with intense eyes. Tyrian quickly felt terrified of the man but he was in no position to run either.

"There are no faunus allowed here!" The vendor yelled. "Get that little killer shit out of here! Screw your money!" 

The man didn't hesitate to lead Tyrian away from the market and soon found himself in the desert where a big red tent was set up. 

"You have family, son?" The man asked.

"I haven't seen my mother in a few days." Tyrian admitted. "I was bad and she left me."

"That's no way for a mother to treat her child." The man cooed as he leaned down to Tyrians level. "Come with my circus. I promise, we'll never abandon you."

Tyrian quickly learned that the Ringleader was not as kind a man as he pretended to be. Years of performing on the high wires (with no net below if you fell) onlookers laughing and always throwing things. Yanking his tail and Tyrian wasn't allowed to even say anything, no matter how much it might hurt. 

Whippings, no food for days and being locked in a tiny cage if you did something wrong. No one could blame Tyrian when he finally snapped. The circus had been near Mistral when he finally killed the Ringleader and Brothers it felt good. 

As for Iris, of course she never would have abandoned her precious boy. 

It was after her shift had ended and she was walking home she was attacked by a group of faunus hating humans. They caught her off guard, and had brought an axe down on her tail, cutting off the better half of it. Iris was no huntress, she did not fight. She kept a blade on her for protection, but against five bigger opponents, it hadn't done her much good. (Although she did manage to drive it into one of their thighs, and he died of blood loss.) But it didn't keep her from getting killed herself. 

As a faunus, her death was not investigated. No one bothered to find out if she had family. There was no one to tell Tyrian the truth. 

[nikkialena]

More Than Just A Number

What he do now, was the first thought to cross your mind when Obi-wan requested a meeting with you. As long as you've known Anakin you've learned that he's a magnet for trouble, not that you were any different as a padawan but you were both generals now, there was a time for games and a time to be serious and Anakin couldn't seem to differentiate the two. Although a small smile tugged at the edge of your lips at the thought of seeing a couple of old friends, as you walked into the Jedi temple you were greeted by an overly eager Anakin whisking you into a hug and an annoyed looking Obi-Wan. "Hi Ani, long time no see huh whatcha been up to," you asked as he let you go and smiled his signature cocky grin "well you know stuff" he muttered scratching the back of his neck, "so getting into trouble and causing problems for everyone else?"

A couple of Jedi council members snorted including Obi-Wan, Anakin just crossed his arms "you call it trouble I call it thinking outside the box" he mumbled with a slight hurt look on his face, "it's good to see you [Y/N] but we called you here because we need another general in my absence...also nobody else really wants to work with Anakin" Obi-wan mentioned while rubbing his temples. "Hey" Anakin shouted but you ignored him as Yoda and Obi-wan briefed you on the rest of the situation, "why me though I mean I don't mind but these hundreds of other Jedi" Yoda touched your shoulder as a gentle smile touched his lips." Strong with the force you are, strong like Anakin" and that's how you ended up babysi- working with Anakin, currently you were locked in a tense battle of dejarik waiting for him to make a move. Either way, he was fucked he only had one character left with two hp while you still had three with full hp, if you looked close enough you could see beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he tried to think of a way to outmaneuver you but that wasn't likely, whaling softly he accepted defeat and moved his character forward which proceeded to be pummeled by yours.

Throwing your hands in the air you snapped your fingers and swished your hips in a little victory dance "face it sky guy you'll never beat me in this game", Anakin snorted and crossed his arm "I'll have you know I came very close to winning last round...anyway I have something to attend to" he uttered briskly standing up. "You mean someone" you teased and he blushed softly speedily walking away leaving you to go talk to his precious Padme, ever since you were little kids she was all he could talk about, you remembered the day they met he came back to you shouting 'hey guess what I saw a girl a real girl' you'd given him a pointed look hurt evident on your face. He quickly tried to fix the situation by mumbling how you were a girl but not like a girl girl nonetheless, it hurt your feelings.

This is why to this day you always wear a hooded robe, you were an interesting character to look at since your mom was a twi'lek and your father a zarak most people gawked at you whenever you removed your hood. Walking into the bathroom you splashed your face with cold water before staring at yourself in the mirror, with hesitant fingers you pulled back your crimson hood allowing your lekku to fall freely, two of them draped over your shoulder while the other two hung behind you reaching a trembling hand to the crown of your head you traced one of the jagged horns sprouting from your scalp. They completely circled your head like a mangled crown of sorts, you'd cut them off multiple times before but they just grew back with a vengeance standing taller than before, almost like they were mocking you for your futile attempts. Your hand slowly reached for your saber attached to your hip when you sensed a presence from outside the door, quickly throwing on your hood you dried your face with your sleeves and opened the door, "how may I help you, Captain Rex?"

He stared at you for a second before fixing his posture and saluting you "oh um nothing ma'am general skywalker just sent me to check up on you because you weren't answering your comlink", you stared down at the comlink blinking on your wrist and held in the urge to facepalm you were so lost in thought you didn't hear Ani calling out to you. A soft blush of embarrassment washed over you as you scratched the back of your hood "I can assure you I'm fine Captain Rex" he gave an acute nod before turning to leave, you weren't exactly sure what compelled you to grab him but you reached out and grabbed him. "Sir," he asked questionably looking down at your delicate fingers wrapped tightly around his wrist, you could feel his confusion through the force and your confusion as well, clearing your throat you nodded at the game "fancy a game captain?" He was wearing his mask so you couldn't see his eyes but you could feel his surprise and you didn't even need to use the force to sense it, "me" came his confused voice.

You rolled your eyes and shoved your hands in your pockets "no the wall...of course you", you sensed a slightly joyous aurora oozing from him as he sat down across from you, taking your seat a small smirk touched your lips as you motioned with your hand "you can go the first Captain". Damn. You hadn't expected this much of a challenge usually you'd crush your opponent in under ten-fifteen minutes flat but Rex, was built differently he'd seen through all of your ploys and called all your bluffs holy fuck he might actually beat you. It was your turn to sweat as your fingertips hovered over different characters altogether. You had about fifteen health points to his sixty, you were growing quite frustrated mostly because you couldn't read him.

Part of your strategy was being able to see your opponent's face but he was wearing a helmet, technically he couldn't see your face either but that was an irrelevant factor, "take off your helmet I wanna see the shocked expression on your face when I cream you". He chuckled and it was deep sexy and raspy, "I don't think that's going to help you much general but okay" with one sift motion his helmet was off and neatly placed on the table, you felt your smile flatter as he once again saw through you and your antics but boy was he gorgeous. He had a hard jawline with a small cut etched into the bottom of his chin, two golden orbs pierced your soul reading your every thought before you could make them, his skin was sunkissed and his hair a bright blonde styled in a low buzz cut a small smile formed on his lips as he uttered the words "your move".

You could feel the confidence oozing from him and it irritated you, that's not how you liked your men exhaling a low breath you moved one of your characters, it punched his heavy hitter, and took a critical low leaving it with one hp left. You shifted your [e/c] eye to his with a slight nod letting him know that it was his turn, unable to contain his smile any longer his lips curled into a sinister grin as he worked a combo on your characters ultimately massacring them, your shoulders slumped in defeat as he almost jumped from his seat but composed himself. "Good game Captain" you grouched extending a hand out to him he reached a handout and shook it, his hands were big and warm as they enveloped yours "thank you ma'am better luck next time" he sang in a slightly arrogant tone "you don't have to call me sir or ma'am you know my name is [Y/N] just call me that" you could feel a whole plethora of emotions coming from him joy, pride, confusion and honor he hesitated for a moment before mumbling. "Okay ma'- I mean [Y/N]" he quickly corrected himself as he slowly began to rise from the chair you arched a brow "where are you going?" He looked at you confused as you nodded at the game "it's best out three bitch" he smiled softly and plopped back down "well if you really want to lose that bad I guess" he teased

[thekitteninlove]

I had some free time this week, so i wrote another fanfic. Now i won't be surprised if you said that i'm annoying you with my love for the twins, but i can't help it. I rarely fall in love, but when i do it tends to last a long time and be quite intense. I made this blog to express myself, so i don't give a damn if you don't care about what i have to say. I'm going to express myself whether you like it or not.

Anyway, on to the fanfic

Title: A lesson in martial arts

Characters: Dean Tweedle

Warnings: smut, fingering, light bondage

The polished wood floor of the large gym room creaked under me as I was practicing the self-defense techniques Dean had been teaching me over the past few days. Since I wasn’t used to exercising so much I was quickly getting tired, while he looked like he could keep at it for a few more hours without breaking a sweat. I wanted to take a break, but at the same time I also wanted to impress my boyfriend, so I didn’t give up and continued training.

After a few minutes Dean sighed and said in a slightly amused voice “You don’t have much stamina, do you? We can take a break if you want to”

Dammit. Is it that obvious? I was a bit embarrassed that he found out how weak I was so soon. A part of me wanted to act tough and keep going, but I realized that I wouldn’t be able to fool him, so I accepted his offer and sat with him on one of the benches that were lined up against the wall. Since all the students were on vacation now the school gym was all ours to use.

While I was trying to figure out what the use of a piece of equipment in the far left corner of the gym was, I felt Dean shift on the bench and heard him say “As much as I enjoy teaching you this, there’s no need for you to learn this kind of stuff. You can just let me protect you”

This made me turn my head towards him, letting out a small gasp of surprise as I realized how close he was to me. He was leaning towards me and when I looked up at his face I saw that he was gazing at me fondly while giving me a sweet smile. My heartbeat finally returned to its normal rhythm after all that training, but now it began to beat faster again upon seeing his charming face so close to mine. I returned his smile and said “There’s no way you can protect me 24/7. We can’t always be together, which is why I need to learn this even though I don’t like it. I don’t want to be a burden to the people around me either. Also, I want to be someone who can be proud of themselves and being able to do most of the things alone would make me feel just like that”

“Alright then, if you’re so determined to do this then I won’t stop you. Just bear in mind that I won’t be lenient with you just because we’re dating.”

“You don’t have to tell me that, I’m pretty much aware that I’m dating the strictest teacher in the country” I doubt the word ‘lenient’ is even in his dictionary.

“If you knew that then why did you ask me, of all people, to teach you this?” Dean sounded a bit confused

“The truth is…” Since I felt a bit embarrassed to express my true feelings I hesitated a bit before continuing “I missed you, so I used this as an excuse to spend more time with you” I turned my head to the other side so that he wouldn’t see me blush, but he placed his hand on my cheek and turned my head back towards him. When I looked up at him I noticed that he had a mischievous grin on his face. Then I saw him leaning even closer to me before his lips met mine in a sweet kiss that filled me with warmth and left me wanting for more.

After he pulled away from the kiss, Dean told me “I also enjoy teaching you all sorts of things.” Then added in a slightly playful tone that told me he might be up to something “In fact, how about I teach you how to pin down your attacker?”

I wasn’t very confident in my strength so I thought of refusing his offer at first, but since Dean was the one suggesting it… well, I thought that I may as well give it a shot, so we went back to where we were before we took this break.

“There are many techniques in martial arts that can make your opponent submit. Now I’m going to teach you one that I think is easy to learn and I’m going to do that by first showing it to you.” Dean came over to me and continued his explanation. “This move can only be done if your opponent has his back to you, so turn around”

So I’ll first have to make my opponent turn his back to me or take him by surprise, hm? I thought as I did as he said.

“First you need to put your forearm in front of their neck like this. Then clasp your hands above their shoulder so that you can use the strength of both of your arms to strangle them” At that he tightened his hold on me, but not too much. “You’ll have to put more strength into it if you want to choke them, obviously.” He said in a lower voice since he was right behind me and the only thing that stood between us was our clothes. Just being so close to him made my heart race madly in my chest and my body buzz with excitement, making it hard to concentrate on what he was saying. “At this point your opponent should be slowly losing strength and sliding to the ground” Even though I was so flustered he sounded like he was quite calm as he continued with his instructions, seemingly unaware of how he was making me feel. “You must keep your guard up because there’s a chance that he might just be pretending to be weak to make you drop your guard. This is why…” He pressed my shoulders down to make me crouch down on the floor. “you shouldn’t release them from your grip. Instead, go down with them and if you have something with which you can bind them at you then use that to restrain them until help arrives” He grasped my arms and held them behind my back to illustrate his point, which I didn’t mind at all. He then unfastened the belt that I was wearing around my martial arts uniform and used it to bind my wrists. Once he did that, he suddenly pulled me even closer to him by the arms and murmured close to my ear “and make sure they won’t be able to escape. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master” I said trying to make my voice sound as calm as his despite the desire that was growing within me as fast as fire in a forest.

“That’s good” he whispered just a few inches away from my ear. “However, your lack of stamina is a problem”

Since the belt wasn’t holding my uniform top anymore, it was open and Dean took advantage of this to slide his fingers first under and then over the curves of my breasts. This made me sigh with pleasure and lean against his chest, wanting to feel him even closer. Then I felt his mouth on my ear as he grazed it before he said in a low voice “But don’t worry, my pet, I’ll help you increase your stamina”.

Judging by his actions, he was going to do that the naughty way and my heart began to beat faster in anticipation. Once he pulled off my trousers he began sliding one of his hands over my thighs and stroking them. It felt like a nice massage, which was exactly what my sore muscles needed at the moment. Meanwhile, his other hand was still on one of my breasts, teasing it by moving his fingers around my nipple. His massage was making me feel quite relaxed, but his teasing was making me want more. I would’ve used my hand to move his hand where I wanted it to be, but it was tied up behind my back, so I couldn’t do that. Then I decided to squirm a bit and since my movements weren’t completely restricted I managed to achieve what I wanted. I let out another sigh as I felt his fingers touch that sensitive spot.

“You naughty pet” I heard him whisper right next to my ear before he began to caress that spot.

“Mmh, Dean~” His touches were always making me feel at ease and content, but this time they were also fueling the fire of desire within me.

His other hand, which was stroking my thighs began to slowly make its way towards my core until he reached my panty lines, where he slid one finger under them and used it to caress that area. One thing I noticed about him after dating him for so many months is that he really enjoys making me squirm and doesn’t miss a chance to tease me. Now was no exception and as I began to squirm I heard him chuckle behind me, clearly amused by the predicament I was in. He moved his fingers along my panty line before he decided to take them off. However, his teasing didn’t stop there since he kept caressing me between my legs without going inside. Although it was a bit frustrating, I was enjoying the naughty things he was doing to me, so I further relaxed against his chest and let him do whatever he wanted with me. His fingers were doing wanders to me and I moaned in delight as they moved in circles on my sweet spot. After a few minutes though, I was at my limits so I said in a thin voice “I want them… mmh… inside me please”

“Hmm, you’re too vague. What do you want where?”

Dammit, how do I make him stop teasing me? I wondered to myself as I tried to bring myself to say those naughty words he wanted me to say “I want your fingers to, uh… slid in… um, right there where you have your hand”

As soon as I said that I felt his fingers steadily come into me and I relished in the delightful sensations their movement made me feel. Meanwhile, his other hand was still fondling my breast, which was intensifying the pleasure I was feeling. He then pressed his lips against my neck before he moved them further down and kissed me there too. While he was leaving a trail of kisses down my neck the dirty things he was doing to me with his hands were making my body gradually get hotter and the desire within me grow even stronger. Since my back was pressed against him I could tell that he was feeling the same way too. After a while he said in a low voice close to my ear “Now that I’ve got you so warmed up, it’s time for you to do some exercises”, then he pulled back his hands and told me to turn around. Once I did that he took off his trousers and beckoned me closer with his hand while smirking and saying “Ride me”. He was so alluring at that moment that I felt as attracted to him as if we were two magnets that were drawn together by an invisible force. I placed my legs on either side of him and took him inside me, moaning due to the pleasure given by the friction within me. I wanted to put my hands on his shoulders to lean on him, but they were tied behind my back. “Mmh, Dean… could you, ooh… untie my hands?”. However, he only smiled at me and said “If I do that you won’t get the exercise you need, so I won’t do that”

Ugh, fine then, I should be able to do it like this too. I kept moving my hips to and fro, while his hands roamed my body. He first placed them on my hips, then he moved them upwards with one of them going behind my back and the other over my waist. I could see that he was panting as hard as me and I thought that he looked so sexy like that, disheveled and with a flushed face.

“Don’t stop until I tell you to” he ordered me, to which I replied “Yes, Master”. I knew he likes to be called that, so I use that word whenever we’re alone like this, doing naughty things.

His face then drew even closer to my chest and kissed one of my nipples before taking it in his mouth. The sensation of his hot tongue over that sensitive area made a pleasant feeling spread throughout my body, which added to the waves of pleasure I felt within me that were steadily growing stronger the more I moved. Dean eventually lost his composure and pushed me down to the floor, moving faster than I had before. He pressed his lips hard against mine and began to kiss me passionately, while holding me tightly by the hips. I lost all train of thought as an intense and delightful sensation spread through me like lava during a major eruption.

It took a while for me to recover and when I did I said “I love you, Dean. I love everything about you, even your flaws”

He seemed surprised for a moment, but then he brought his hand to my cheek, gently caressing it, and said “I wish you would’ve seen me as the perfect gentleman, but…” a dazzling smile spread over his face as he continued “hearing you say this also makes me very happy”

“I also have my flaws and unlike you, I want you to acknowledge them. I want you to accept me for who I am. I know it’s a big favor to ask of you, but can you do that for me?”

“That’s not a big favor at all. I also do love you for who you are.” He looked fondly at me as he drew closer and gave me a quick, but tender kiss. After he drew back he untied the belt around my wrists and helped me to my feet. While I was putting my clothes back on an idea came to my mind, so I asked him “Will you teach me more things? I want to learn more”

“Sure. As I said before, I do enjoy teaching you. But do you have anything specific in mind?”

He seemed pleased by my request, so I replied “Well… anything that would prevent people from deceiving or manipulating me” My ex taught me a lot, but I still feel like I don’t know enough. I don’t want to be an idiot. They are the ones who are easy prey for those kind of persons. I want to learn more so that no one will be able to deceive me anymore.

“Hmm, alright then. Don’t tell me you’ve been deceived” Dean sounded a bit concerned

“Uh… no” Not recently at least

“If anyone ever tries to do that to you I’m going to make them sorely regret that”

“Thank you, Dean” My boyfriend was so protective and it made me feel really happy and loved. I hoped that our relationship would keep lasting for years to come so that we’d be able to continue making sweet memories together.

[dhwty-writes]

Chapter 19 - Golden Gowns and Eventful Evenings

I have no excuse, so I will just post this and run 

Jaskier and Geralt attend the banquet in Goldfurt together. 

prologue | previous | next

Read on AO3

Being the biggest city between Yspaden and Mirt, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that Goldfurt exceeded any and all expectations Jaskier might have had before returning after his twenty-year absence. Being governed by his brother-in-law, Janina’s husband no less, it shouldn’t come as a surprise either that they exceeded them in the wrong direction.

Truth be told, he did not remember a lot about the city from his pre-Oxenfurt days. Of course, they had been obligated to visit the banquet every year, both as neighbours as well as the family of the future Countess, but Jaskier had been barely thirteen the last time he had attended the festivities. The only thing he remembered from that visit was his short-lived infatuation with one of Goldfurt’s squires. It had promptly ended when said squire had basically wiped the floor with him in the training yard during their one and only interaction.

After that unpleasantness he had gladly given a rather wide berth to the city and the castle at its centre. Jaskier had even managed to forestall the unhappy reunion for another year due to a cough at the most convenient of times.

This year, however, there was no excuse in the world that would have made it appropriate for him to stay away. Not with his title, not with his renewed betrothal to Lady Alina. Not with the two newest additions to his household, he was supposed to parade around like a pair of exotic animals.

Jaskier ground his teeth as he tugged at the sleeves of his shirt. ‘Melitele’s tits, I’d gladly attend the dinner if I could leave Ciri and Geralt in Lettenhove,’ he thought bitterly. But that would not only be a grievous insult, it would also rouse more suspicion and rumours than they already did. ‘Best hide them in plain sight.’ And if something unforeseeable were to happen, they could also make a quick escape.

Due to these unforeseen developments, the lack of information had posed quite an obstacle. If there was one particular lesson the twenty years with Geralt had taught him, then it was that ignorance in the face of danger could be fatal. And while one might assume, that a witcher’s lifestyle was much more deadly than a Viscounts, Jaskier would gladly go and fight a dozen ghouls with nothing but his lute, instead of entering the vipers’ nest that was Goldfurt.

Extensive reconnaissance—consisting of squeezing as much information as possible out of his three sisters—had revealed that he might actually have better chance with the ghouls. The silk doublet his servant buttoned up would do little against daggers in the dark or libations laced with poison. Not that he expected his kin and kinfolk-to-be to try and murder him at a dinner party, of course. He expected them to have some decorum at least.

Still, he had entered the city knowing fully well that he was anathema to at least half a dozen invited guests, not least of all their host. On the other hand, which relative of his wife was not anathema to Filip Firkalt?  None of them, that was which. It had been one of the primary sources of their entertainment in the past days.

It was no secret that while he and his sisters nursed a precarious love-hate-relationship, the loving aspect was completely lost on the in-laws. The source of that animosity, of course, lay in the title he now bore. The moment his disappearance after his graduation from Oxenfurt had become public knowledge, both of his brothers-in-law had begun vying for what was rightfully his, Kerton with his heir even more so than childless Goldfurt. The fact that he had returned to rob them of what they had already considered theirs, was just another strain on their relationship.

Another of the lessons Geralt had imparted to him, was the importance of a plan. So, not only had the four Pankratz siblings spent their evenings mocking the stupidities they had been forced to endure by the hands of the men in their lives the past two decades, they had also conspired how best to pay them back within the confines of propriety. Two of them, at least. Janina and her blood-tear mourning garb had only been the appetiser for the main course that was to be served at the banquet tonight.

Or rather, it should have been. For the first vital life lesson he had learned on the Path was that every plan, no matter how good or bad, immediately went to shit upon the first contact with the opponents. Theirs had been no exception to the rule. The memory still made him clench his fist in anger. The disrespect shown to him and his sisters by not riding out to greet them was one thing. But he should have punched Goldfurt in the face when he first had called Geralt a dog. ‘Right then and there, castle peace be damned.’

“M’lord?” the attendant fussing over his cuffs called his attention with a meek voice. “Begging your pardon, but you have to let go of that fist, m’lord.”

“Oh,” he replied dumbfounded as his eyes travelled down to the rings he was holding in his hands. “Of course.” Slowly, he uncurled his tightly clenched fingers, while she slipped the signet ring as well as the embellished buttercup ring in place.

Jaskier stared blankly at his mirror image, fighting the urge to smile at the sight of him clad in Lettenhove ochre and muted autumnal colours. It would be the last time to dress for such an occasion before winter undoubtedly would settle in but a few days. He would be in need of a level head as much as a stoic façade for this evening. No matter how much he wanted to shout out his delight over his delivery from the straightjacket that had been his mourning garb. He wouldn’t have a lute to do so anyways, so there was no point in it.

In any way, there was no bard required this evening. He needed to be the Viscount de Lettenhove instead, protecting all those who had sought shelter at his home and hearth for the winter. ‘Geralt chief among them all.’ The witcher had protected him for nigh twenty years of his life, after all. After all these years of watching helplessly as villagers, nobles, and innkeepers had made Geralt’s life miserable, he was finally in a position to repay him. And it was high time that he did so.

“Will that be everything, m’lord?” the servant asked with a coy smile.

“Yes.”

He bowed obediently, still lingering. “Shall I be waiting for your return?”

Jaskier spared him a short considerate glance. He was quite an attractive fellow, although far too young. “Best not,” he answered, doing his best to keep the contempt from dripping into his voice. It wasn’t directed at the servant anyways. “It will be rather late, I’ll wager.” He certainly wasn’t desperate enough to take a man to ben who might not be offering his companionship for his own volition but because of ill-directed instructions he’d received.

Besides, he had a witcher to get to. The servant bolted from the room and Jaskier quickly followed, but not before grabbing the bundle on his bed.

His witcher had been billeted at a ridiculous distance to Jaskier’s own rooms in quarters which found themselves in a distressingly poor state. Well, nothing in Goldfurt Castle classified as ‘poor’ exactly, but in comparison to the usually upheld standard, it was scarcely better than the rug on the floor he’d been offered at first. The unfairness of it all made his blood boil.

Geralt, on the other hand, remained as unfazed as Jaskier was accustomed to. He had even kept him from running back to make good on his first impulse to bestow their host with a bloody nose. Instead, he had praised the quarters and assured him that he would be just fine, before ushering him out.

‘Maybe,’ a treacherous voice in the back of his head hissed, ‘he’s even glad to get away from you.’

Jaskier gnawed on his lower lip. He couldn’t even fault Geralt for that. His own welcome for his oldest friend had been anything but warm and he was well aware of the coldness freezing the air between them. ‘He still hasn’t apologised,’ he reminded himself. ‘Stubborn mule.’ Instead, Geralt had hurt him even more, albeit unknowingly so. Not that that made it hurt any less.

The same door that had slammed shut behind his back a few days prior blocked the path before him now. Jaskier didn’t allow himself a second thought and swung it open. “Ger—” He was with one foot over the threshold already, when he suddenly remembered and the fear of finding Geralt in bed with Marin stole his voice.

“My lord?”

He appeared to be in luck. Geralt was alone in the chamber. And nearly naked. The only strip of fabric on his person was a towel slung low around his hips and the shirt in his hands, his hair still damp from a bath.

“Uhm,” he said eloquently, while he desperately tried to get his thoughts into order. Unfortunately, he did not manage before his mouth started talking without any cerebral input: “You’re not wearing that,” he blurted of all things.

No ‘Good evening, Geralt’, or ‘How are you enjoying your stay, Geralt?’, or even ‘Fuck, why can’t we go back to how it was before, I’m slowly losing my mind, Geralt.’

No, it was 'You're not wearing that.'

If ever there was a moment for the skies to part and the gods to strike him down with a well-placed bolt of lightning, this was certainly is, right before 'You don't want to keep a man with bread in his pants waiting.' What was it about the witcher that made him so exceptionally stupid? Whatever it was, if the gods could hurry up and erase his existence from this earth, Jaskier would be much obliged, thank you very much.

Unfortunately, nothing happened.

Nothing of that sort, at least, because something happened and that was Geralt slowly glancing down at the towel and up at Jaskier again to deadpan: "I wasn't going to."

"Good," Jaskier's mouth ambled on.

He had to hand it to Geralt, the fact that he didn't so much as raise his eyebrows before moving to put on the shirt was undoubtedly one of his greatest displays of discipline so far.

"You're not going to wear that, either," Jaskier continued, slowly regaining control of his words again.

“Why not?” he asked, his voice impossibly honest. As if there was nothing wrong with the black shirt and breeches, he had worn on the day they’d arrived.

“Because,” he quipped and tossed him the bag he was carrying, “you’re not going as a witcher tonight. This is my brother-in-law’s banquet; we have a reputation to uphold. You're my friend and anyone who knows me, which is everyone here, is well aware that the only way my friend is dressed in anything but the finest clothing would be over my dead body. I'd never allow you to stand out for your tastelessness and considering that you don't appear to have a fashion sense for yourself, I'll gladly provide you with assistance."

"Hmm." Geralt cleared his throat and said: "I need to change if you want me to wear that." He flourished the expensive clothes in his hand.

"Right." Jaskier took a breath to steady himself. But somehow, his feet didn't move.

He raised his gaze with an amused expression on his face. "You need to leave the room, my lord, unle-" The expression on his face changed rapidly as if he was just realising what he was saying.

The barbed retort was already on the tip of his tongue: 'Why, Geralt, are you offering I stay to watch?' But the image of him and Marin kissing was much too present in his mind as it was, so Jaskier bit his lip to keep it from escaping. 'He's not mine to keep,' he reminded himself. 'Never has been, never will be.' "Right," he forced out and turned around, "I'll wait for you in the hallway." He wasn't sure either of them would survive the dinner otherwise.

Jaskier did his best to keep from fidgeting and pacing while he waited outside, which was no easy feat considering the nervousness and hum of energy building within him. Normally, he wasn’t prone to fits of anxiousness. Tonight, however, there was so much that could go wrong, so much that would ruin everything, so much—

Mercifully, the spiral of dread was interrupted by the quiet lock of a door behind him, accompanied by Geralt politely clearing his throat.

“Finally!” Jaskier meant to say as he turned on his heel. What got out was more of a garble: "Hngh." Geralt looked... dashing. There was no other word for it, truly. Well other than 'otherworldly beautiful and I can't decide whether the outfit choice was the best or worst idea I had in a long time and shit, I really should have taken that into consideration; he's not yours to keep, Jaskier, get it together, gods damnit!'

Yeah, dashing was much easier than that. Blue suited him, but Jaskier had already known that. He had chosen the outfit for their last ball together as well, after all. But in contrast to that disastrous outfit, the witcher wore clothes that actually fit him, instead of too small things Jaskier had pulled out of his bag. And on top of that, the witcher had the audacity to smirk. "You approve, my lord?"

"I do," Jaskier managed without embarrassing himself further. "We should go," he decreed. "The Count and Countess will make their appearance soon; it is considered terribly impolite to arrive after them."

"And you're only aiming for impolite?" Geralt teased.

Jaskier frowned and quickly looked down to hide a smile. It was true, most of the meticulous planning by him and his sisters prior to this visit had been to be as impolite as possible while still operating within the socially acceptable norms. Janina and her blood-tear mourning garb had been only the beginning of what would undoubtedly come to a head this evening.

Judging by the quiet snort beside him, he wasn’t quick enough. “Geralt,” he spoke up a few moments later.

“My lord?”

He grimaced slightly. “You probably shouldn’t call me that tonight. It would only… raise suspicion.”

The witcher frowned deeply. “And what should I call you then?”

“Julian,” he said simply. “That’s my name, you know.”

“I thought you resented that name.”

‘I do,’ he thought. “I mustn’t,” he answered and continued on into the dining hall. A large part of the nigh two hundred guests had already arrived and heated the room up nicely, in spite of the freezing temperatures outside. A plethora of voices filled his ears, the kind of pleasant buzz that usually promised an eager crowd Jaskier could sail upon. But he couldn't, so now the mix was irritating, fraying his nerves. And it smelt. Not quite enough to actually stink, but that would come soon enough with the fragrances mixing with sweat and food.

All of the sudden, Jaskier pitied Geralt. He knew the witcher had much finer senses than he did and if he was nearly overwhelmed-

A nigh unnoticeable touch at his elbow made him whip around. He stared directly at Geralt's face. "Are you alright?" the witcher asked quietly, concern etched onto every fibre of his body.

"Quite," Jaskier answered stiffly, letting his eyes sweep over the crowd until he spotted Ciri and Józefa at a table directly beneath the dais. “Let us join my lovely sister and cousin, shall we?” the Viscount announced with a bright smile frozen on his face as he crossed the threshold, a gentle hand on Geralt’s elbow to ensure he would follow.

There was no announcement, no herald making their arrival known, yet at least half a dozen heads turned their direction immediately. A hushed whisper spread through the ballroom with each of their footfalls, like ripples on a still lake during a rain shower that turned into a thunderstorm. A few moments passed, none of the attendants quite sure how to react—Julian Pankratz’ return had been surprising to all, disconcerting to most, and relieving to none.

Then: “Julian Pankratz!” a booming voice cut through the backdrop of murmurs, the crowd parting to let the speaker through. “I didn’t think you’d have the guts to show your face here.”

Jaskier’s lips curled into a true smile for but a moment when he recognised him. “Dawid,” he greeted his former friend, wincing slightly when he pounded on his shoulder, “I wouldn’t have if I had known you’d be here.”

The knight laughed at that, slung an arm around his shoulders and pulled him along. After that it was as if a wall had broken down. The journey to their places was torturously slow, continuously interrupted by former friends and lovers, now married and introducing their heirs, enemies and strangers, who sought to curry favours, or just regular attendants who just wanted an excuse to gawk at him.

They had almost made it, the end of their table already in touching distance, when another petitioner approached. It was a young boy, a squire, Jaskier guessed, dressed in Goldfurt’s livery, who bowed deeply. “My lord, my lord Goldfurt sends his regrets for the unfortunate seating situation,” the boy said with a wavering voice. “I am to let you know that there unfortunately is not enough space to accommodate all of your family as well as your witcher.”

Jaskier did not have to look up at the half-empty dais to know it was a blatant lie. “Unfortunate indeed,” he replied curtly.

“However, his lordship asked me to inform you that you yourself are welcome to join him at the high table, as are the two maidens who share his blood. And that you may rest assured, my lord, the witcher will enjoy himself just fine where he is.”

"I thank you kindly," Jaskier answered primly. "If you would do me the favour of relaying a message to her ladyship, now? Tell my sister, what is good enough for my witcher is good enough for me. I do not wish to add any additional strain to our familial relationship than there already is with our presence, which is why I am sure I will enjoy the festivities just as well down here as up there."

The boy stared up at him with wide eyes. "Lady Goldfurt," impressed upon him again. "If possible, in the presence of Lady Kerton." He nodded hastily and disappeared.

When Jaskier turned around with a sigh he was met with Geralt's dark expression. "What?"

"Do you think it advisable-"

He waved his hand around tiredly, continuing his path to Józefa and Ciri. Fuck, he was exhausted already and the banquet hadn't even started yet. "Do not worry about my wisdom, Geralt, I know more about these affairs than you do."

"It's not your wisdom or intelligence I question, I know you have both aplenty. It's your foresight. I do not know you to be a patient man."

"And I am not, but luckily it is not of the essence in this case. I am aware we tread on unfamiliar territory for you, but I grew up here. I am well aware of how far I, Julian of Lettenhove, can go before truly insulting someone. Lucky for us both, it is much farther that either you, Geralt of Rivia, or I, Jaskier the bard, could hope to. If anything, it will reflect poorly on our host to deny me my designated place over such a petty squabble. It will earn us sympathies!"

"What will earn us sympathies?" Ciri's eager voice asked.

"The fact that you will have to make do with this entirely new place for you, cublet, that is not at the side of the host of such a lavish gathering,” Jaskier replied and bowed with a flourish, taking her hand to kiss her knuckles. She giggled. “Madam, what a joy it is to see you. Truly, you are the jewel that crowns this evening; your beauty outshines the rising sun after a moonless night.”

“Thank you, Lord Lettenhove,” she answered with a perfect curtsy, during which the skirts of her dress flared out. Lettenhove ochre, just like his doublet, he noticed, and her dark hair plaited in an updo that must have taken hours to complete. It left no doubts as to where she belonged. She glanced up at him with a malicious glint in her eyes. "Do you know the best part?" she whispered.

He leaned down to her. "Tell me."

"The skirts are so wide, I could still gut a man in it."

Jaskier blinked in surprise; it was the quiet chuckle form Geralt that got him to finally break into laughter. "And what a good thing that is," he assured her.

"Fiona," Józefa chided softly. "I told you not to say that in nice company."

“Of course, cousin,” Ciri replied with a mischievous grin, “I would never.”

"Thank you," he said, rolling his eyes and winked at Ciri. He couldn't stop the feeling of pride welling up within him, but at least he could stop himself from hugging her by approaching his sister and kissing her hand as well. "You, madam, are just as dazzling as our young cousin. I fear I shall be blinded after this night, surrounded by so much beauty."

Behind him he heard Geralt whisper to Ciri: "What answer?"

"I just insulted him politely," Ciri answered just as hushed, evidently very proud himself. 

Józefa huffed and crossed her arms under her chest. She was wearing an expensive red robe with orange embroidery and primroses etched on the edge. "You are a woeful waffler, brother. But you look good, too. Nice and proper."

"Nice and proper indeed," Jaskier replied and straightened his impeccable doublet. "You think I can fool them into thinking I am just as much of a stuck-up prick as my father was and as they are?"

"Hmm," she hummed and cast a quick glance around. "I think you already have. Maybe yell at a few servants or refuse to speak to any of the ladies if the topic is not their beauty if you really want to drive the point home."

He nodded thoughtfully. "Working on it, sister dearest. I'm working on it." He clapped his hands and smiled brightly. "Well, let's get comfortable, shall we?" he chirped and pulled the chair back for his sister and Ciri in turn.

When he turned to Geralt and quirked a curious eyebrow when he still found him standing. The witcher looked back and forth between Jaskier and his two wards before shrugging. Geralt pulled back his seat with the mockery of a bow. 

He huffed a quiet laugh. "Thank you, my friend," Jaskier said with a subtle touch to Geralt's shoulder as he sat down.

"You're welcome. Julian," he said, as if he was probing out the taste of the unfamiliar name in his lips. A moment later he grimaced, as if it was particularly disgusting.

Jaskier was almost about to tease him about him when the great doors opened and Lord Goldfurt walked in with Janina on his arm. His sister looked magnificent, if he dared say so himself. While she usually didn't indulge in the luxuries that her advantageous marriage granted her, Jaskier was sure that she was wearing the most luxurious dress she had donned since her wedding. It was in dark and subdued tones, almost dark enough to count as mourning, that screamed "Lettenhove" at the same time.

Jaskier smirked. It had been a brilliant idea on Justyna's part.

The unhappy pair stopped before the dais, Janina stone-faced and Filip with a smile that fooled no-one. "My dear friends," he greeted them, "I am overjoyed that I am able to greet all of you once again at the beginning of this new year. May it bring prosperity and health for all of us. Especially my estranged brother-in-law, Julian Pankratz who has finally ascended to his rightful place as Lord Lettenhove. It's an honour and a pleasure to finally host the famous Pankratz siblings again. A shame that you are missing one of your matching set. What do you say, Julian? A toast of the famous poet!"

Jaskier rose from his seat to the thundering applause and bowed exaggeratedly. Somehow, this was the most calming thing he had done in months. "Thank you, thank you," he placated. " I fear neither honour nor pleasure are the words our hosts usually describe us with." It roused a laugh from the crowd. "But, for the sake of this tradition, we will behave.

"I am thrilled, though I am entirely undeserving of the praise. Here's to my sisters, who are more beautiful than a bouquet of larkspurs. To the Count of Goldfurt, our gracious host. It is my utmost joy to finally be reunited with my family and my home. To Redania! And to his beautiful lady wife, my sister, Janina of Lettenhove."

He could practically feel the temperature drop in the hall as soon as he had uttered the last words, all eyes trained on Goldfurt to see how he might react. He practically didn't react at all, besides begrudgingly raising his goblet to his mouth and taking the tiniest of sips. "To home," he agreed reluctantly, "and my lady wife."

Janina, on the other hand, barely contained her grin and drank a big gulp. "To home," she said as well and the toast echoed through the hall, slowly reciprocated by all of the guests. The toasts were mixed with murmurs of confusion that died as soon as the food started to appear.

The banquet itself was a dreary affair as noble banquets often were, especially if the people at your table were of the quiet sort. And what was Geralt if not the quietest of them all?

Still, Jaskier delighted in pointing out the Counts, Barons and knights to Ciri. Between Józefa and himself they managed not only to call up old history lessons of their neighbours and their connections to Lettenhove, but also a fair share of gossip as the first course was served: fish. Oh, and what fish it was. Platters upon platters of smoked cod was passed in front of them, along with roast pike and fat carps in beer sauce, accompanied with little pastries of perch, trout, and salmon.

It was good. No, divine even. Not as good as Ana's cooking at home, but that was hard to beat. Apart from that it might be the best food he'd eaten in years.

"Did you know," Józefa stage-whispered and leaned over to him, "that three years ago Goldfurt's aunt was found in flagrante with Dergetten's elder sister?"

Jaskier gasped, pretending to be scandalised. "You're kidding. That old bag?"

"What's in flagrante?" Ciri wanted to know and Geralt choked on his food. "Jaskier, what's it mean?"

"Umm," he felt his cheeks grow hot. "You know what? Geralt will gladly explain that to you." The witcher shot him a mean glare that betrayed that, no, he absolutely would not. At this point he decided that it was best to change the topic. "Do you see that old knight over there?" he asked and discreetly pointed at the table across the dance floor from them. "He's supposed to be a dragon slayer."

Geralt snorted disbelievingly, and Jaskier shrugged. "Oh, we all know he's a liar. He's got the dragon's wings hanging in his hall, I've seen them. If you ask me, it's a bat he killed. And not even an especially large one."

Ciri giggled at that and Jaskier happily continued to dish out child-appropriate rumours as the next round of dishes for them to choose from was paraded around. It was poultry next, roast chickens, chicken pastries, scalloped chickens. But also, a dozen herons, little carrot-nests with fieldfares, and truffled capon. And all along the wine flowed freely. Est-Est was brought out by the barrel, as well as dry reds, sweet whites and even the odd sparkling wine in between. Normally, Jaskier would have indulged happily, but he had the feeling that he should keep a clear head for the evening. Besides, he had monitor Ciri's alcohol intake, who readily charmed the servants into slipping another sip into her watered-down wine.

They had just advanced to the main courses—fourteen suckling pigs, two dozen roast veal, eight whole boars, a handful of oxen, with thick gravy, cooked and fried and braised roots and an overabundance of cabbages. White cabbages, red cabbages, pickled cabbage, cabbage salad—oh, how he missed Toussaint in the winter—when some puffed-up peacock playing at being a poet swaggered onto the dance floor. Jaskier huffed and crossed his arms, pointedly ignoring Geralt's bemused stares. 'The bardlet isn't even good,' Jaskier noted and forced himself to stop listening, else he might work himself into a rage over the blatant display of negative talent, that's what it was—

Geralt relieved a servant of her pitcher to refill both their goblets. Upon seeing Jaskier's questioning expression he shrugged. "Might make it more bearable for both of us," he explained and nudged the cup towards him. "This night I won't suffer sober."

He laughed hoarsely and clinked their cups together before taking a large gulp. "To sobriety, then."

"To banquets," Geralt added and glanced over to Ciri, "and no more surprises."

"What are you two talking about?" she wanted to know.

"The last banquet we attended together," Jaskier answered, steadfastly trying to ignore how his heart hurt at the thought. "It's where... we met your mother."

"Oh." She perked up at that, although her eyes seemed to grow sadder. "Was it... was it similar?"

"No," Jaskier said, just as Geralt replied: "Yes."

They blinked at each other for a moment before looking away. Jaskier tried to ignore the curious look Ciri gave him before she was distracted by Józefa again, the gods bless her soul. He was sure the little princess wasn't listening anymore and he was even more sure that Geralt was well aware of it, when the witcher growled: "The music was better."

"Excuse me?" he squeaked. Quickly, he cleared his throat. "Excuse me?" he asked again

He leaned over to him and Jaskier eyed him warily. "The bard's shit," he hissed. "Can't even carry a simple tune."

Well. That wasn't untrue. But hearing it from Geralt made him nearly spit out his wine. "You think all bards are shit," he responded as soon as he had recovered from his coughing fit.

"Bull-fucking-shit," Geralt growled. "I like your singing well enough."

He raised an incredulous eyebrow. "You called my singing a fillingless pie."

He shrugged. "And I still think that's true. Tasty crust," he impaled a piece of pie on his fork, "no filling." He pointed his fork at Jaskier. "Pretty voice, empty lyrics."

"Oh, so you think I have a pretty voice?" the words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself. "Anything else about me that appeals to your artistic eye?"

"Hmm," Geralt answered and raked his eyes over Jaskier's body before quickly hiding his smile behind his goblet. Not quickly enough, though. His cheeks grew hot with the blush and he frowned darkly.

'Stop it,' he commanded himself. 'No use reading meanings into something where nothing's there.' He drained his water glass. He was is desperate need of a clear head, for he was quite aware that the heat coursing through his body was not merely caused by the many people getting drunk in the room.

At least he could distract himself with dessert being served: sweet pumpkin pies and baked, stuffed apples, red berry groats and oat biscuits with honey and cinnamon. Jaskier was quick enough to snatch the cup of mulled wine out of Ciri's hands, but could hardly protest the platter laden with all different kinds of sweets—not when his plate didn't look any different.

He passed the goblet he had just salvaged over to Geralt, who just scoffed. "Oh, now he's ripping off your songs," the witcher grumbled. "Ridiculous."

Jaskier sighed. "Let him." He knew there were enough impostors; he had stopped caring years ago.

"He's not even getting the lyrics right."

"I thought they were empty anyways," he remarked and popped a biscuit into his mouth.

"Not the point."

"Jaskier," Ciri interrupted them, "they're starting to dance."

He frowned as he saw Goldfurt leading Janina onto the dance floor to signify the end of the dinner. He sighed as he caught Lady Alina's eye on the other side of the hall. No doubt he would be expected to share at least one dance with his betrothed, for propriety's sake.

"I suppose you should join them, Julian," Geralt quipped and crossed his arms as they watched Justyna and Damian join them on the dance floor.

"I suppose I should."

"Well?"

He rolled his eyes. "Maybe later. For the moment, allow me to abuse your presence to hide from my duties." He watched his two sisters dance when another thought hit him: "Wait, how do you know that the lyrics are wrong?"

Jaskier could've sworn he saw a blush creep up Geralt's cheeks as the witcher grumbled something unintelligible and hid behind his tankard again.

"Geralt of Rivia," Jaskier gasped indignantly, "are you trying to tell me, you memorised my songs?"

"Don't flatter yourself."

“I—” Jaskier began, only to be interrupted by Józefa: “Julian,” she called his attention. “I believe you should honour the Lady Alina with a dance.”

“Fine,” he ground out and rose to his feet.  “I believe I have to surrender you to my sister’s care for a while, so I fear our conversation will have to come to a close for the moment.”

“Pity,” the witcher grumbled and leaned back in his seat, obviously not finding it a pity at all.

Jaskier laughed as if he had just told a joke. “Do try to enjoy yourself, my friend.” He winked, though his heart sank. “I’ll be back.”

He wasn’t quite sure if he should be relieved or not to leave the witcher and his sour mood behind, though he was sure that his own mood grew worse with every step. Eyes and whispers clung to him all along the way, although he pretended not to hear.

He couldn’t deny them their right to gossip; they were landed gentry after all, what else were they supposed to do with their pitiable lives? He’d just prefer that gossip to be limited to him and not the newest two additions to his household.

He had been hesitant, at first, to bring both of them to Goldfurt. Truly the last thing on earth they needed was more attention on Lettenhove. But after some long talks with Józefa they had come to the conclusion that there were rumours anyways. Not bringing the two of them along would look even more conspicuous.

In the end, he wasn’t the one who found his betrothed, for she beat him to the chase. “Lord Lettenhove,” she called for his attention.

“Lady Alina,” he did little to mask his surprise. “You’re just the one I was looking for.”

“Were you now?” She raised her eyebrows. “No doubt for the same reasons as I do.”

“And which might those be?”

“To satisfy my brother’s demands that we socialise, of course,” she replied and raised her fan to hide her exaggerated yawn. “Is there not a question you should ask me?”

Jaskier bowed gracefully. "May I have this dance, my lady?"

“You may.” She barely even bothered with a curtsy before she let herself be led to the centre of the dance floor. The spent about half of the dance in icy silence, before Lady Alina finally spoke up: “So, are the rumours true then?”

“Rumours?” he feigned ignorance.

She snorted. “Do not insult me, Lettenhove. We both know that you are well aware what I am talking about.”

Of course, he knew. The whole society talked about nothing else but Fiona Nowak’s parents. There was a myriad of different stories where she came from and why she was in Lettenhove now, many of which he and Józefa had planted themselves. The most wide-spread, however, was the only one that he had actually tried to extinguish: “If you want to pretend, you’re more stupid than you actually are, fine. Let me be frank, my lord. Is young Miss Nowak your bastard daughter?”

He locked his jaw. “Those rumours are none that I encouraged,” he answered curtly.

“That does not answer my question.”

“And yet it is the only answer I will give on that matter,” he insisted. He had no wish to discuss the matter any further, so he was not quite sure what made him continue talking: “Though it is true that she is very dear to me, as is her safety. I would do anything to keep her safe.”

“How admirable,” she responded drily. “Though again, I would have thought the cleverness of your sisters runs in the family. I am disappointed to see that it doesn’t.”

He raised his eyebrows. ‘Ouch.’ Were he a man easily slighted, he would have taken offence. In reality, though, he was only impressed. “Are you well acquainted with them, my lady?”

“With some better than others. Did you know that I spent a few years in Nowigrad?”

He tensed up and she laughed.

“Of course, you did. You avoided the city like the plague back then.” Lady Alina smiled politely. “Well, Jolanta sends her regards.”

He frowned. She had never told him that she knew his former fiancée.

“She also lets you know that another friend of yours is growing restless with… this.” She made a vague gesture at the gossiping nobles around them.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I could not say, my lord, I am but the messenger.” The music stopped and she stepped back from him immediately. “I believe we have satisfied our duties. Good night, my lord.”

Even after leaving his fiancée in the arms of another, the dancing did not stop. Instead of his feet tracing patterns over the floor, his words took over as he found himself getting sucked deeper and deeper into the deadly dance of deception that was so popular with all nobles. Whenever he spun, trying to step off the dance floor of politics he found himself in the slippery grasp of yet another opponent. Chief among them, of course, were his sisters.

"Despicable old bag," Janina hissed, still eyeing the dowager Baroness he had rescued her from. "She's rotten to the bone."

"A Dergetten through and through," he agreed. "Józefa told me she’s the reason Lady Zibold came down with that horrible stomach sickness two years ago."

"Really, Julek?" She rolled her eyes. "You, churning the rumour mill?"

He shrugged. He had never claimed to be above these petty squabbles; he was landed gentry, after all, what else was he supposed to do with his pitiable life?

He spun away from her, soon to be embraced by another lady. All the while he danced, he could hear the rumours continue to spread like wildfire.

“Did you hear Lettenhove had the witcher bring his bastard to his keep?” he heard one nobleman whisper.

“She’s supposed to be the daughter of some whore,” another quipped.

“Don’t be a fool, Alma, she’s the Countess de Stael’s daughter; remember how she retreated to a temple for a few months a decade ago?”

“No, she has elf blood in her veins, it’s why he hid her.”

On and on the whispers went and Jaskier couldn’t help but roll his eyes at them. Not a single one of them got even close to the truth. He supposed he had to be grateful for that and he couldn’t resist the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth when he saw her. She was hand in hand with Daria, sweeping over the dance floor and disturbing this dancing couples in the process.

He spun a web of lies to evade a landed knight’s curious questions and found himself on the dancefloor again within the blink of an eye, Justyna in his arms.

"I am glad to see her so joyous," he said with a fond smile as Ciri and Daria swept past them again, nearly knocking Janina and Goldfurt over in the process. "Both of them." His smile widened even more when he saw her keeping her husband from reprimanding them. 'You can't hide from me, Janka,' he thought triumphantly, 'she's gotten to you just as much as to the rest of us.'

Justyna hummed her approval. "She's a sullen child, is she not? I feared she might faint during our first meeting."

Jaskier sighed. "She's been through a lot, Konwalia. She's seen so many bad things, worse than anything you or me can imagine, and she's just a child."

He stepped away to bow to her as she spun away from him. When he pulled her close again, she averted her gaze. "Maybe I didn't give you enough credit. Maybe you might be able to understand."

“Maybe I might be,” he agreed cautiously. “Where’s Julek, by the way? I don’t think I’ve seen him in hours.”

"He's— Miss Nina put him to bed. He was... not feeling well."

"He's a quiet boy."

"He is. Easily overwhelmed, too. He doesn't smile a lot either. He's a good boy, though," she assured him quickly.

"That I do not doubt," he said and smiled. She didn't return it. "Justyna?" Her gaze flickered away nervously as she tugged on her sleeve. It was a bad habit their father had beaten out of her even before he'd left. It worried him. “You—I am aware that you think me unable to comprehend your worries, and maybe you are right and I am. However, I hope that you would still confide in me after all these years. If there is anything short of murder and treason within my power to help you and yours, I will do it, without hesitation.”

She kept silent for a few more moments, looking uneasy. "It's Damian," she told him quietly. "He believes him a changeling."

He huffed disbelievingly. “A changeling?”

“Yes,” she confirmed. “That’s what he settled for after accusing me of adultery first. He does not believe that a son of his could be this—”

“Inadequate?” Jaskier offered, well-acquainted with that particular paternal sentiment.

“He is not what he wants his son to be. Not courageous, not knightly enough, while Daria is—not enough of a boy to be precisely that.”

“And isn’t that a familiar tune?” Jaskier sighed quietly. “I am sorry your son takes this much after his namesake.”

“I am not.” She raised her chin defiantly. “For I love his namesake, just as I love my son.”

“I am glad to hear that.” The song ended and they both took a step backwards. Jaskier reached down and gently lifted her knuckles to his lips. “Worry not, my lady. For the time being, you are guests in Lettenhove, protected by my castle peace. And I happen to be quite fond of cowards, monsters, and inadequate children.”

Her expression softened. “I know you are. Thank you, Jaskier.”

He squeezed her hand briefly, before excusing himself, in desperate need of a drink—and a conversation with a certain witcher, he believed. The ballroom floor was as dangerous a terrain as it had been the whole evening, but Jaskier deftly dodged those who threatened to converse with him before collapsing in the chair next to Geralt. "Finally," he sighed and gladly took the goblet his witcher handed him.

“Did you have fun, Julian?” Geralt asked him and Jaskier raised an incredulous eyebrow.

“Did I look like I was having fun?” he countered.

“I am sure there was quite a number of attendants you managed to fool.” The unspoken ‘but not me’ hang heavy in the air between them and for a moment he allowed himself to bask in the familiarity of that. Jaskier closed his eyes, the noise and smell and lights draining away with every heartbeat until he could pretend it was just the two of them in a lonely clearing, sharing a skin of sour wine. Just them, just friends, just a witcher and his bard.

The illusion was sundered all too soon by a voice they had suffered all too long for one evening already. "Good sirs, might I persuade you to make a request?” Jaskier opened his eyes again and found himself staring into the young and bright-eyed face of a bard whose hopes and dreams were surely about to be crushed. The boy smiled widely and bowed. “Along with a bit of constructive criticism, mayhaps?"

Jaskier exchanged a quick glance with Geralt and, slowly and deliberately, set down his goblet as he waited for the answer he knew would come: "You changed the lyrics," Geralt stated, "not for the better."

"And how would you know?" the bardling asked with too much enthusiasm and tilted his head to the side. He gave them both a thorough look before gasping with excitement. "Oh, I know who you are! You're the witcher, Geralt of Rivia. And you-" He turned to Jaskier and his eyes grew wide. "Master Jaskier!" He bowed deeply. "It's an honour to meet you, truly it is. I have studied all of your work, sir, I am one of your greatest admirers."

He did his best to hide his pained expression with a smile. "I fear I do not go by that name anymore. I am old and weary; it is time for the new generation to get a chance. Viscount Lettenhove, if you please."

“Of course, my lord. And, if I may be so bold: wise words, wise words indeed,” the bard preened, too caught up in his speech to notice Geralt’s elbow landing in Jaskier’s ribcage or the wheeze that escaped him at that. "Might I humbly request a piece of advice of you? It would honour me greatly, no matter—”

"You may," he interrupted him and shot a glance at Geralt. "Stop singing other people's songs."

"But-"

"Don't interrupt him," Geralt growled.

“Thank you, my witcher,” Jaskier said and twirled his goblet in his hand. “See, young man, here’s the issue: you may be a bard, might even call yourself a strolling minstrel, and yet you are living off another’s hard work. I do not begrudge you for it; repeating songs you have heard certainly is a way to make your living. Mind you, however, that a poet, a troubadour, a veritable minstrel is, first and foremost, an artist.”

“But—” the bardling laughed nervously. “But I do not paint pictures.”

“Evidently,” Geralt grumbled just as Jaskier asked: “Don’t you?” He sighed and took a sip. “I certainly did. My experiences were my canvas, my emotions my paints, my aching heart my brush. Which is why I cannot sing the songs of another. How can you aspire to give a true performance, pour your heart and soul into it, if you don't even know what you're singing? You're still young, so go out into the world while you still have the chance. See if you don't find something that's worth singing about."

"How will I know that I have found such a thing?"

"Oh,” he stared into his goblet, “you will."

"But what is it? Will my heart stop when I spot it? Will—Will I lay my life on the line for it? Is it something worth dying for?"

"No," Jaskier said softly, "your life will stop, that much is true; but it isn't something that ends so much as something that begins. You will know when you have found something worth singing about, when you find something worth living for."

Next to him, his witcher choked on his wine.

[geekgirles]

Your Heart

Chapter 6 -- A Ghostophobe, a Giant Iguana, and Vegan Nacho Cheese

Word Count: 14402

READ ON AO3

As an aspiring astronaut, Danny’s dream had always been going to space. 

Being able to look at the vastness of the universe, to literally look down on Earth and see every single country at once, to stargaze up close… All from the comfort of the space station as he leisurely floated around in zero gravity. 

Really, that was all he asked for. 

He was convinced he lost his chance when he got his powers. 

Although not directly connected to his dream, the birth of Danny Phantom almost put his GPA in jeopardy several times. Before the accident, he used to be a good student, granted, not as good as Jazz, but he brought home good marks. But once the first sleepless night trying to catch rogue ghosts came, countless more were soon to follow. 

Between the lack of sleep, being tardy to class or skipping it altogether, and many more instances of ‘teenage rebellion’ (all caused by his attempts to save everyone from malevolent spirits, not like anyone cared), Danny was sure his dreams of going to space had all but vanished before him.

There were no words capable of describing his joy when he miraculously pulled just the mark he needed to be accepted at Amity Park University’s Astrophysics degree. So what if he couldn’t go to a fancy college like Yale, or Stanford? That was Jazz’s dream, not his. Besides, studying at APU was perfect for protecting the town and getting access to the Ghost Zone. 

He seriously doubted any of those preppy colleges would have granted him permission to build a ghost portal in their labs, anyway. 

And so, he was closer to his dream than he’d thought he’d ever be during all of high school. During that time, he found solace in flying. Being one of the only two people in the whole world who could fly without help was even more special than being selected by NASA; a feat in itself. And it was so...liberating.

Even when he struggled most with his powers, just being able to fly made it all worth it. The immense relief that would envelop him whenever he just let the breeze guide him, lazily swaying in the sky and under the moonlight. The feeling he’d get whenever the adrenaline coursed through his veins as he picked up speed, sometimes even breaking the sound barrier when he felt like really challenging himself. Or just the chance to quiet the hectic voices ruling his life, even for just one moment: fight ghosts, save everyone, try to fit in, don’t let Mum and Dad find out what you are. Fight ghosts, save everyone, try to fit in, don’t let Mum and Dad find out what you are. Fight ghosts, save everyone, try toー

The mere chance to leave his worries behind, even for just a second, made the prospect of losing his one chance at his dream seem worth it.

Although...he did get the chance to be an astronaut during freshman year. But that was a story for another day. 

Now, at twenty-one and with even more things to worry about, flying was still the one place he could find solace in. Tucker often told him that’d change the day he found himself a girlfriend, but let’s be real; who’d want to date someone like him?

Unlike high school, however, his problem wasn’t his look or his personality. The not-so-subtle glancesーwhich were almost predatory, might he addーand shameless gossiping and squealing he got from the girls around campus confirmed he’d grown from ‘Scrawny, Awkward Fenturd’, to ‘Tall, Dark, and Handsome Fenstud.’ 

The moniker stroked his ego, he wasn’t going to deny it. But the problem wasn’t his popularity with the opposite sex. The problem was how the opposite sex would react if they knew his secret. 

Okay, maybe that was the wrong way to phrase that sentence. If the excited shrieking and squealing his alter ego received from the members of his fan club were anything to go by, any of those girls would faint in elation if they ever got the chance to date Danny Phantom. The polls from gossip magazines dedicated to discussing how hot the Ghost Boy was ーwhen were they gonna change that nickname to ‘Ghost Man’, anyway? When he was 40?!ー didn’t lie. 

The real problem would come when his girlfriend got involved in his double life. And even if he wouldn’t want her to be involved, let alone fight ghosts alongside him like Tucker and Jazz did, deep down he knew it was inevitable. The moment his enemies found out he had a new girlfriend, they would use her to get to him. After all, what better way to defeat someone than to exploit his weakness? If Technus, of all people, could come up with that plan, anybody else could.

As he surveyed Amity Park from above, lost in his thoughts, Danny suddenly registered a source of heat coming from his right. Quickly swirling in the opposite direction to avoid the incoming projectile, a pink beam of ecto-energy, he quickly scanned his surroundings to identify his opponent. And judging by the way his Ghost Sense hadn't gone off, that could only be one person.

“Valerie.”

“It’s Red Huntress for you, spook!” A snarl, accompanied by another pink blast, came from above him. After blocking the attack with an ecto-shield, he looked up. Lo and behold, Valerie was hovering over him on her forked, black and red hoverboard, an ecto-gun protruding from her forearm and aimed directly at him.

Valerie Gray, also known as The Red Huntress. Amity Park’s most competent ghost hunter, after him. Who also happened to be his sorta-kinda-maybe-it’s-complicated ex-girlfriend. Or his S.K.M.I.C.E.G.F. for short.

Somehow, that acronym never had a good reception.

His story with Valerie was...an interesting one, to say the least. Their relationship was full of ups and downs, with the downs eventually becoming an integral and exclusive part of their interactions as Danny Phantom and The Red Huntress. 

They started out as complete strangers. Well, not exactly. They both knew of each other back in the beginning to freshman year of high school, but they didn’t know each other. Valerie started out as another A-lister; haughty, self-centred, she made no effort to hide her disdain for those ‘bellow her.’ Of course, Danny, being Danny Fenton, one of the biggest losers in Casper High, was particularly low in her long list of those ‘bellow her.’

But that all changed thanks to a little ghost puppy he called Cujo. 

Cujo was the ghost of a guard dog trained by Axion Labs, where Damon Gray, Valerie’s father, worked. They got rid of the dogs after upgrading the security system, with the misfortune of preparing the labs for any possible kind of assault, except for a ghost puppy with the ability to turn into a bigger, more menacing dog looking for his lost chew toy. 

Needless to say, things could’ve gone better. If only because his accidental meddling had been indirectly responsible for Mr. Gray losing his job, the Grays losing their fortune and their house, Valerie falling from grace and losing her popularity, and her developing a huge grudge against all ghosts, especially him, that lasted well into present time.

If there were job applications for fucking people over that weren’t exclusively related to sex work, he’d be a pro. 

As expected when someone dedicated their lives to hunting you, regardless of your attempts to befriend them or explain the situation, the two didn’t quite get along at first. Between Valerie’s newfound purpose to waste him and the fact that she never really acknowledged she’d been as terrible to him and Tucker as the A-listers were now with her, the two often butted heads even at school. 

Their opinions of each other didn’t change until Skulker forced them to work together to survive his island and his attempts at hunting them both, when they actually had a heart-to-heart. Their civilian selves being simultaneously paired up for a Health class project also helped. 

But what really changed things was the very same events that turned Danny Phantom into the Ghost King. 

During Pariah Dark’s return, Danny Fenton and Valerie Gray really connected, and Danny learned to appreciate her in a whole new light. She was amazing while she fought Dark and the Fright Knight; the months she’d had to hone her abilities really shone through. Her attacks were intuitive, yet calculated. Her moves, nimble but they packed quite the punch. She was confident, and yet cautious enough to not get cocky. 

As odd as it sounded, seeing her fight was incredibly hot. 

...alright, so maybe he did have a thing for girls who could kick his ass. He blamed his dad for that one. 

That day, something sparked between them...but only between Danny Fenton and Valerie; she still hated the Ghost Boy with every fiber of her being. She was positively furious when she found out he’d been chosen as the next ruler of the Ghost Zone. 

Danny had to admit, anybody else with half a brain cell would have understood that crushing on a girl hellbent on destroying a part of him maybe wasn’t the best idea ever. Tucker and Jazz certainly thought so. But he was fourteen, hormones were high, and Valerie was the coolest girl he’d ever met so far, so…

Common sense be damned. 

And so, they tried going out for some time. During those few dates the two went together he was over the moon, walking on air, he couldn’t believe his luck! He’d finally found a girl who liked him for him. Someone real and approachable, unlike his previous crushes on popular girlsーironically enough since Valerie herself used to be an unapproachable popular girl.

The universe itself seemed to want them to be together!

Not only did they dates suddenly get better thanks to some weird coincidenceーa blackout turning a dinner in a greasy diner into a romantic candle-lit evening, winning carnival tickets at the baseball game, the ferris wheel stopping at the most romantic point possibleーbut they seemed to be enough to get the idea inside Valerie’s head that maybe their relationship was worth giving up ghosthunting for. 

Until Tucker, Jazz, and, surprisingly enough, Technus burst his little bubble. Turned out, Technus, who still didn’t respect him as his new ruler, seeing Valerie as a potential weakness, manipulated their relationship to keep him busy while he worked on his latest scheme. 

The self-called ‘Master of Technology’ was also responsible for Valerie’s hatred of ghosts being renewed, for the destruction of her original suit followed by an upgrade to her current armor, and for Danny’s one-time experience in space (a happy coincidence). 

Oh, and had he mentioned Technus’ meddling also led to Valerie breaking up with him before he could even ask her to go steady (hence the S.K.M.I.C.E.G.F. situation), giving him the most cliché excuse in the superheroing book, because she hated his ghost half more than she liked his human half?

Because it totally did.

Looking back, with Valerie’s icy glare set on him and a very menacing looking ecto-gun aimed straight at his forehead, maybe dating a ghost hunter set on killing him wasn’t his best idea. Fucking hormones…

“Look, Valerie, can we wrap this up? I’m really not in the mood.”

“Oh, we’ll wrap it up alright, Phantom,” she sneered, “with your ass in a body bag!” She shot at him again with the weapon protruding from her forearm. Seeing as the ghost only ducked the ecto-rays with relative difficulty, she changed tactics. Quickly typing down a command on her control panel, from between her fingers materialised three razor-sharp pink discs. 

The moment her attention was focused elsewhere, Danny took the chance and flew off at top speed. Noticing his attempt to escape from the corner of her eye, refusing to let him get away, the Red Huntress stepped on the hidden button of her board’s body. With a whirring sound, the engines roared to life, allowing her to fly after him. 

Once the Ghost Boy was within reaching distance and too busy trying to get away from her, with a swift motion of her arm, Valerie hurled the pink discs at him. At the sound of air being sliced, Danny turned his head just enough to notice the pink projectiles coming towards him from the corner of his eye. Maneuvering through the sky, he managed to dodge the first two, but as he ducked away from the second disc, the third came close enough to slice his upper arm. 

Wincing in pain, not once stopping his flight, he cradled his arm to inspect the wound. Despite the oozing ectoplasm coming out of it, it was just a superficial cut. He’d live. As he registered the sudden heat approaching his back, Danny understood the only way to get rid of Valerie was fighting her. 

As much as he hated fighting a friend, it was pointless to resist when said friend was trying to shoot holes into his body. And if he made the mistake of letting her get too close, he’d get caught in between her board’s forked ends, giving his chaser the perfect chance to activate the stinger and electrocute him. 

“Hate to break it to you, Valerie. But I’m already dead, so body bags are pretty pointless!” Charging up his ecto-ray, hands glowing green, Danny shot in her direction, holding back just enough so Val would be forced to swirl around the sky to avoid getting hit. It was his signature move when facing off against Valerie: distract her with the need for an evasive maneuver in order to gain enough time to escape himself. 

Just as he predicted, when the green rays of energy got closer to her, the Red Huntress willed her board to keep moving to the opposite direction of the blasts. What he hadn’t predicted, though, was that she’d change tactics and face the blasts head-on. The impact caused a plume of smoke to rise up in the air, hiding the girl from view.

Before he could fuss over her safety, however, Valerie rose up above him. Hunched down on her board before elegantly moving to stand tall, a smug grin on her face, she was surrounded by a bluish ghost shield coming from her preferred method of transport. He always forgot she could do that. “That’s too bad.” She said in a fake, sugary voice. “Guess I’ll just have to resign myself to seeing you fade.” 

In an instant, she willed three metallic cubes to manifest around her head and shoulders. As the devices charged up, the Red Huntress gave chase to him once more. 

Reacting almost a split-second too late, Danny resumed his own attempts of leaving her behind. Whenever an energy beam got too close for comfort, he either put all his years of flying to good use and miraculously managed to avoid getting hit, or he’d focus his energy on forming ecto-shields of different sizesーdepending on her ecto-rays' own intensity. The untrained observer would point out he could just turn intangible and the beams would harmlessly pass through him, but that was too simple. And fighting Val was never simple. 

Even when she’d first got her gearーand by that he meant her old, non-Technus-upgraded gearーthe Red Huntress’ various weapons were all capable of hitting him even when he went intangible. Therefore, lowering his guard like that around her was like a clear invitation to get his ass whooped. 

Getting frustrated, with Val still hot in his ghost-tail, he bellowed, “Would you just quit it?! I still got a mark from the last time we fought!”

Smirking darkly, Valerie forewent her cubic guns for her trusty ecto-grenade. “Then I know where to hit next.” She declared before throwing the dangerous device at him, hitting him square on his left shoulder.

As a burning pain suddenly spread through his left shoulder to the tip of his fingertips, not all was lost, for the resulting explosion had sent him flying across the sky to the asphalt, effectively putting some much needed distance from him and his pursuer. 

Hands propped on the street and barely supporting his weight, Danny laboriously lifted his head up. All around him, people were either running away in fright of the impending battle or crowding the street as they pointed at him, whispering amongst themselves. 

Lifting himself up to a sitting position, the halfa gently nursed his aching shoulder, wincing in pain whenever his fingertips touched the sensitive skin. Although whatever damage Valerie had managed to inflict upon him would soon be gone thanks to his enhanced healing factor, he knew he didn’t have the luxury to wait that long. Knowing the ghost hunter, she’d be around, looking for him. And the moment she found him, she’d waste no time resuming their confrontation.

The Red Huntress would never stop until the source of all her misery was finally banished to the Ghost Zone, or disposed off permanently. 

Grunting in pain, Danny willed the cold of his core to spread throughout his body until it reached his hands. The moment his hand blazed a familiar, chilly blue he began caressing his suffering shoulder, the cold emanating from his fingertips a welcomed painkiller. 

“Is there anything more unfair than being pummeled to a pulp when you’re actually holding back from hurting the other person?” He grunted, but his musings were cut short by another ecto-beam barely missing his head, a whiff of smoke coming from the asphalt that’d cushioned the hit. 

His heart suddenly in his throat, the halfa gingerly looked up, only to find Valerie a few feet away from him, a smoking, double-cannoned ecto-bazooka resting on her shoulder, which only elicited the whispers around them to grow louder, more frantic. “Gotcha.” She said, her glare colder than his ice powers. 

Adrenaline kicking his brain in overdrive, Danny frantically looked around, trying to find a way to escape that didn’t involve hurting Valerie or any of the onlookers. Argh, if only he could just turn intangible! As he futilely tried crawling away, his gloved hands moving against the asphalt floor below him, the sensation sparked an idea. Maybe turning intangible was useless against the Red Huntress’ weapons, but phasing wasn’t.

The only thing he needed was a distraction, and the whirring sound coming from the charging ecto-bazooka gave him an idea. It was reckless, but that seemed to be his thing lately, wasn’t it?

“Say goodbye, Phantom!” Valerie spat just as the weapon perched on her shoulder was done charging up, shooting a powerful blast his way. 

Using the hand that was previously healing his wounds, Danny shot his own ecto-ray at the incoming projectile, causing his adversary to gasp in surprise. “Goodbye, Red!”

As the two forces came into contact with each other, under the stunned gazes of everyone present, they exploded into a blinding light that forced everyone, Valerie included, to shield their eyes. Wasting no time, Danny turned intangible, phasing through the floor and into the Amity Park sewer system. Once underground, he let his transformation drop, knowing Val’s Ghost Radar would find him otherwise, before making his way around the sewers in search of the nearest exit, his body leaning against the wall for support. 

After what felt like an eternity, Valerie finally got her forearm out of her face. What was the point in having a dark-tinted visor if she could still be blinded? Once she’d regained the totality of her sight, that is to say, she no longer saw dark spots dancing around her vision, she quickly redirected her gaze to where Phantom stood. 

Nothing.

Gasping, Valerie looked up to the sky. As her eyes scanned around for a black and white, flying figure, or even anything amiss in case the Ghost Boy had turned invisible, she soon realised the green-eyed spook was truly nowhere to be seen. Despite her growing frustration at losing her target, the Red Huntress quickly typed a command on her suit, hoping her Ghost Radar could still detect him. No such luck. 

Growling in frustration with murder in her eyes, she jumped mid-air, summoning her hoverboard to appear right bellow her. Roaring the engines to life, she took off in direction to Elmerton, her home for the last seven years. 

As she soared the skies, Valerie kept looking back and forth between her radar and her surroundings, looking for Phantom. “I was so close, damn it! Every time I think I finally have that ectoplasmic punk right where I want him, he up and disappears!” With a furious yell to the sky, she leaned on her board, using her feet to increase its speed.

Her gear had to be the only good thing that came out of her first encounter with that ghostly bastard. Even if she’d lost everything and her dad was constantly working long hours to keep her in collegeーher wonderful, incredible, genius dad, who deserved much more than just being a crammy security night guardー, at least what happened at Axion Labs all those years ago had given her two things: the gear necessary to become Amity Park’s most powerful ghost hunter, and the purpose to eliminate all bodiless apparitions from the face of the Earth. 

Starting by Danny Phantom. 

Valerie could only scoff at some people’s stupidity. Although most citizens had half the brains necessary to figure out Danny Phantom was a threat, there were still some who revered him as some kind of hero.

Oh, it was true. He saved the town from falling into that Ghost King’s claws, but didn’t anybody remember what happened afterwards? Because she did. Not even a week after ‘saving’ everyone from a fate worse than deathーand causing her some injuries and for her dad to both find out about her ghost-hunting escapades and forbid her from ever touching her equipment again, to add insult to injuryー, he ascended as the next Ghost King. 

And people still celebrated him? Were they blind?!

It was clear that Phantom only ever fought the Ghost King, not to protect Amity Park, or whatever nonsense he kept trying to feed the public, but to dethrone him himself! He wanted that psycho’s position for himself, so he could keep terrorising the town with even less opposition than before! 

“Hero my ass…” Valerie scoffed in disbelieving disgust. 

But, apparently, only Valerie and the Fentons had any common sense on the matter. “Wow. Never thought I’d have anything in common with the Fentons…” she mused aloud. As much as she’d liked Danny when they were fourteen, his family was a whole different thing.

When she finally made out her apartment complex in the distance, the armored girl couldn’t help but carefully glide near their living room window, where she could see her father sleeping soundly on the couch after a long nightーtoo tired to even go to bed. 

Carefully resting her gloved hand against the window glass, worriedly looking at the man who’d been her only source of comfort for as long as she could remember, her heart broke. “Don’t worry, Dad. I promise, one day Phantom’ll be mine. And then we’ll finally cash in that reward and leave this shit hole once and for all.” 

With renewed determination, she went around her floor until she was right beside her own room. Due to her always leaving her bedroom window open, all she had to do was squeeze herself inside. Now standing in her room, she deactivated her suit, which disappeared in a swirl of electricity. Walking over her mirror, Valerie picked up a quasi-new set of clothes that were lying on her chair. “But first, let’s pay that college tuition. It won’t look good if I’m late on my first day.”

............

Phasing through the walls, Danny stumbled into his sister’s room. He would’ve fallen face-first on the floor hadn’t it been for his hands instinctively stopping the fall. 

Her head snapping to the distinctive sound of a ‘thud’, Jazz immediately swirled around on her computer chair. “A little help?” Danny grunted tiredly. 

Gasping at the state her little brother was in, the redhead all but threw herself at him in order to inspect any possible wounds, only to recoil in disgust when she caught a sniff of him, pinching her nose. “Ew! What happened to you to smell that horridly?! What did you do, die for real?”

“I phased through the floor and into the sewers.” The black-haired boy dryly corrected, not appreciating his sister’s skewed priorities. “Now, if you would be so kind as to help me out...”

Jazz at least had the decency to blush. Offering a hand to her brother, she helped him stand up before guiding him to her bed. Then she lowered him on top of it and resumed her previous inspection of him. She jumped back in surprise at Danny’s sudden, sharp inhale of breath when she accidentally grazed his left shoulder. 

In an instant, she was basically in his face, fussing over him. “Danny? Are you okay? Is there anything wrong with your shoulder?”

“Everything’s fiー”, he stopped short when he registered her worried look. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I saw Valerie today.”

“Oh, no.” The eldest Fenton kid lamented, knowing where the conversation was headed.

“Yeah...I tried losing her, but in the meantime she landed a few mean punches on me...figuratively speaking, of course.”

“So I’m guessing your shoulder cushioned a nasty one?”

He nodded, barely turning his head to look at her. “Ecto-grenade.” He said simply, and Jazz cringed in sympathy. “Yeah. I numbed the pain a little by applying some cold with my powers, but a few real painkillers might do me some good until it’s properly healed.”

“Sure.” With a nod, Jazz got up from the bed and crossed over to the other side of the room, where her closet was located. Opening the door and standing on her tiptoes to reach the higher shelf, she grabbed her hidden first aid kit before setting it down on her desk. “Any other injuries I should know about?” She asked as she rummaged through her supplies, taking a small plastic jar with Ibuprofen from it. 

“Just a superficial cut on my arm. It’s almost completely healed now, but putting a band-aid on it just in case wouldn’t hurt.” 

Flopping herself down next to her baby brother again, medical supplies in hand, Jazz helped Danny out of his t-shirt. When she saw the burns on his shoulder, though, she couldn’t help but wince. “Are you sure you don’t want me to put some bandages on it, Danny? It looks pretty bad…”

The halfa sighed. He knew his sister would fuss over his health; she always did. “It’ll heal, Jazz. It always does.” Then he caught her expression from the corner of his eye. “...but if it’ll make you feel better, I suppose a few bandages just in case don’t so bad.”

Nodding readily, the aqua-eyed woman went to quickly retrieve some of the aforementioned bandages from her kit. Then she proceeded to wrap them around her brother’s left shoulder and pectorals. When Danny sent her a questioning look, she just shrugged and said, “Just in case.”

With his shoulder taken care of, Danny, almost begrudgingly, stretched his arm out to her, letting her inspect his cut. Even though he was right and it was just a flesh wound, it was still important to clean it. Pouring some disinfectant on a bunch of cotton balls, with the help of tweezers she gently dubbed the cotton against his skin, prompting Danny to wince in displeasure. 

She rolled her eyes at his childishness, annoyed. “Oh, come on! You literally just faced a ghost huntress, walked around the sewers for who knows how long, and this is something to complain about? Don’t be such a baby!”

“Hey, you have no right to complain about me complaining! You’re not the one who’s routinely going through some kind of medical procedure.” And he’d never want her to go through one; not even a simple check up. 

“Whatever,” she said as she put the band-aid on. She dusted her hands off before smiling proudly at him. “All done. Now, go get some rest before it’s time to go and you have to shower.”

Danny pouted. “Do we still have to go? Jazz, I’m injured…” He tried to bargain with his best sad, puppy-dog look. 

Jazz wasn’t buying, though. “Should’ve thought about that before you assured me your wounds would heal soon. Come on, Danny, you know I’ve been dying to try this place out and you promised to take me.”

“Can’t you take Tucker with you while I rest, instead?”

“No, because,” she lifted three fingers up, ready to count her options off, “one, he’s not my brother, and I’d like to go with my brother. Two, if you turn your head to my nightstand ever so slightly, you’ll see it’s only 12:30 PM on a Saturday; we’re leaving at sevenーyou’ll have plenty of time to rest. And three...can you really imagine Tucker stepping foot in that sort of place even if I bribed him with $1000?”

Danny visibly deflated at that. “No…”

“Then it’s settled.” Jazz declared. “Go to your room and rest. I’ll tell Mum and Dad you came while they were working on the lab and that you’re tired from an all-nighter of working on an assignment.”

“You’d think they’d be surprised I’m not getting straight A’s with all the times we’ve used the studying excuse on them…” Danny muttered as he left his sister's room. 

Standing against the door, Jazz shrugged. “Mum thinks spending so many nights awake studying is actually counter-productive, so…”

Danny chuckled before standing in front of his room’s door. Before going in, however, he called out to her. “Uh, Jazz?”

“Hm?” 

“You’re the best.” He smiled at her. 

She smiled back. “Anytime, Baby Brother.”

..............

A deafening roar echoed throughout the manor. Her heart pounding, Sam ran as fast as she could along the corridors, barely registering where she was going. She took so many turns around the halls she lost count, all portraits and decorations merging together so it’d look like she was running through the same, never ending hallway. But she didn’t care. All that mattered was getting to the origin of the noise. 

When she finally arrived before the gates guarding the bloodcurdling sounds, she skidded to a halt so abruptly she almost gave herself whiplash. Now that she was closer to the source, Sam could also make out the sound of screaming coming from inside the room. And when she noticed just where the roaring and screaming was coming from, her heart all but stopped.

The training room. 

The place where the younger members of the clan practiced and perfected their magic. Whatever happened there now had a group of kids trapped! 

She had to do something!

But, being the queen and therefore not being able to afford anything happening to her in fear of unleashing a civil war, she’d promised she’d wait for Wilhelmina to arrive, or at the very least, for Paulina and Star to support her. 

Anxiously, her eyes kept darting back and forth in all directions, hoping against hope that someone, anyone, would soon come to help. They couldn’t risk their kids’ lives like that. Suddenly, the roars and screams only got louder, accompanied by the sounds of thrashing and the crunching of wood being broken. 

Whatever it was that was going on, it was mayhem!

The minutes felt like hours and there was still no sight of her Minister of War or her handmaidens. Fear gripping at her heart, terrified for the sake of the students trapped behind those doors, Sam threw all caution to the wind. Willing her mind to clear so she could establish a proper connection with her anima, the Witch Queen cupped her hands together in front of her chest, taking advantage of the extra dose of adrenaline to fuel her essence. As soon as she felt the familiar pull of power, she opened her now blazing, violet eyes and shouted, “Aries!”

From her open palms a host of purple light began to take form. In the blink of an eye, the spell solidified, shooting forwards to the gates and effectively crushing them by sheer force. As the dust resulting from the impact cleared, allowing Sam to finally see what was going on, all she could do was gasp. 

Standing tall and imposing in the middle of the room, surrounded by a group of terrified students who were hiding from it in the furthest corner of the classroom behind a row of desks, a gigantic iguana, the size of that dragon ghost that sometimes haunted the town, roared as it shoved tables out of its wayーtheir now spilled contents cluttered the floor. 

When the giant reptile’s eye landed on her, obviously taking notice of the explosion of light, Sam felt her blood run cold. And yet, in spite of the danger, she preferred having the beast targeting her than causing harm to the girls. As the creature threateningly stomped in the direction she was in, the young queen formulated a plan. 

If she could just keep the iguana distracted long enough until Wilhelmina came, she could win enough time to allow the kids to escape. But she’d have to tell them her plan as well. 

“And I know how.” She mused aloud with a smirk on her face. She was just glad she was currently wearing pants instead of an extravagant dress. 

As she waited for the reptile to get closer to her, biding her time, Sam intertwined her fingers save for her indexes and thumbs, which were in contact with each other. Then, just as the iguana’s claw was about to strike, she mimicked the action of a gun shooting with her arms. “Ignis!” She cried out. 

From her fingertips she kept shooting energy beams at the monster as she ran in the direction the girls were in. When one of her beams hit the iguana in the eye, causing it to cry out in pain and, most importantly, to be distracted, Sam quickly slid down to behind the remaining desksーwhere the girls were. 

“Girls, are you okay?!” She whispered-shouted as soon as she caught sight of them. They were a small group, six girls around the ages of 10-12. 

One of them, a brunette with green eyesーViolet, if Sam wasn’t wrongー, spoke up on behalf of her friends. “Your Majesty! Oh, thank Goodness...Yeah, we’re fine. As soon as that thing appeared we ran and hid here.”

The violet-eyed witch sighed in relief. “Thank God. Alright, Violet, right?” The girl nodded, the smile on her face was so wide due to the Queen remembering her name, one would almost forget they were all in danger.  “Right. I need you to tell me how this happened. And why are you guys all alone, shouldn’t an adult be with you at all times?”

Lola, a shy girl with black hair and glasses, and a distant relative of Paulina, answered instead. “Uh, well, we-we weren’t alone, your Highness.”

She’d have to tell them some other time that title was for princes and princesses, not queens. But first, saving their lives. “What do you mean, Lola? Who was with you?”

“Wilhelmina.”

“Wilhelmina?!” she repeated, a little too loudly. Wincing at the realisation, she hushed the girls in case the iguana had heard them. Whimpering in fright, the kids got closer to her, and she unconsciously wrapped her arms around them. After a few minutes and no response from the monster, Sam let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding. “Okay. Girls, can you explain to me why Wilhelmina isn’t here? It’s not like her to leave students unsupervised.”

“Class was ending, anyway.” Violet explained. “She said she had something to do and that she trusted us to clean everything up before we left.”

Sam did not like where this was going. “And the giant iguana?”

“We don’t know.” Lola said, then she pointed at one of her friends, a blonde named Tamara. “We were talking about the familiars we’d like to have when we completed our Rite of Passage while we were finishing brewing today’s potion when Tammy said she’d wish to have an iguana. And, boom!”

“Is that true, Tammy?” Sam questioned the girl. 

Tammy nodded, tearing up. “Y-yes…I-I said...I-I’d like...a-an iguana and...and then...the p-potion...started b-boiling...and o-out of n-nowhere...that...that monster appeared!” She admitted between cries. 

Panicking, both because of the little girl crying and the potential danger of being discovered, Sam scooted closer to her, wiping her tears away with her hands. “Shh, shh! It’s okay, Tammy. It’s not your faultーthese things happen!”

“R-really?”

The queen nodded, smiling reassuringly at her. “Really. This sort of thing happens all the time. You’ll learn what it is soon enough.”

“So I’m not in trouble?”

“No, you’re not.” 

Before Sam could so much as blink, the girl threw her arms at her, hugging her. The raven-haired witch stiffened at the contact, not used to dealing with physical affection...or kids. After a minute, though, she relaxed and returned the embrace. Tammy needed comfort at the moment. 

“What do we do now, your Majesty?” Violet asked, bringing her queen back to Earth. 

“Is that thing going to eat us?” Lola insisted, looking positively spooked. 

“No, no. None of that!” Sam assured them, letting go of Tammy. “Because I have a plan.” She motioned with her hands for the girls to get closer to her before continuing. “First of all, don’t worry. Iguanas are herbivores; they don’t eat meat, let alone humans! So listen closely, any minute now Wilhelmina, my ladies-in-waiting, and whoever else they’d called for help will appear through that door. I’ll share my plan with them and while we keep the iguana busy, you’ll run away from here. Understood?”

The group nodded readily. “Good.”

“Your Majesty, where are you?!” A familiar voice called out to her. 

Crawling quietly, Sam dedicated one last look at the younger witches. “Remember, don’t move until I tell you to go, got it?”

“Got it.” The six of them said in unison. 

With a nod of her own, Sam crawled out of her hiding place before standing up and breaking into a full run to the direction the voice came fromーapparently, it was Susan who’d called out to her, accompanying her mentor. The latter, as well as Star and Paulina, were blocking the reptile’s exit. 

“Ignis!” repeating her actions from earlier, she shot another energy beam at the beast, before standing beside her subjects. 

“What is that thing!?” Paulina asked, looking completely revolted. 

“It’s the result of a spell gone awry.” The Witch Queen answered. “A girl got distracted while brewing a potion and this is the result.”

“What kind of distraction?” Star raised an eyebrow. 

“What do you think?” Sam replied as if that was all the answer she needed. 

Apparently, it was, because nobody else said a word until Wilhelmina’s hoarse voice broke the silence. “Your Majesty! What are you doing here!? You’re supposed to wait for help to come!”

The Goth couldn’t be bothered to pretend she cared about the protocol right now, especially not after discovering her fellow Council member had left a group of witches in-training completely unsupervised. “Not now, Wilhelmina! The kids are still here; we’ve gotta help them escape!”

“And how are we going to do that?” Star let out, trying to hold down the barrier of fiery, orange energy she’d created to prevent the beast from leaving the training room. 

“I have a plan.” Sam turned her attention to the potion-maker in-training. “Susan! Do you have one of your Minisize Me potions on you?”

The Asian teenager reached for her bandolier and grabbed a spherical jar in her hand. “Always, your Majesty!”

“Good! While Star holds the barrier down, Wilhelmina, Paulina, and I will try to restrain our little friend long enough for the girls to escape. As soon as the last girl has left the room, you have to throw the potion at the monster. It’s the only way to take care of it!” She then turned to her lady-in-waiting. “Star, the moment this thing’s all tied up, you let your barrier go so the girls can leave, got it?”

“Yes, my Queen!” Both girls exclaimed in unison, readying themselves. 

“Very well. Wilhelmina, Paulina,” she called out to them, “you take care of binding the reptile with me. Wilhelmina, since you’ve got the potions, you take care of its hind legs and tail; Paulina, you tie its left paw down. Ready?” Getting twin nods from her fellow witches, they all charged against the monster. 

As Sam and Paulina projected their respective animas in the form of a lasso with a scream of “Conjunctionis ligaveris!”, Wilhelmina used her own essence to propel herself above the beast, landing nimbly behind it. While the young queen and the Latina struggled to keep the reptile in place, their purple and soft pink animas tied tightly around its front paws, the potion-maker rummaged through her trusty bag, looking for her BubbleBomb potion. At the same time as she tried to dodge the animal’s large tail. 

Maybe Susan was right and she did need to organise her collection in a pair of twin bandoliers, just like her apprentice. 

Just as she was beginning to get frustrated, her finger brushed against a sticky substance. A familiar, sticky substance. Crying out in triumph, she got the jar with the sticky, pink slime from inside of her bag, just in time to be lifted up in the air by the force behind the collision of the iguana’s tail hitting the ground. Using her momentum, Wilhelmina smashed the bottle against the floor, which then exploded in a bubble of pink slime, effectively restraining the giant reptile’s movements.

“Girls, now!” Sam cried out, struggling to keep her focus long enough to keep the iguana down for much longer. 

The kids didn’t need to be told twice. As soon as their queen gave the order, they got out from their hiding spot and ran towards the door, where Star was waiting for them. Upon seeing them, she lowered her barrier, exhaling in between pants due to the physical exertion, thus allowing the group of kids to leave the room safe and sound. 

Smiling at their retrieving forms, Star cupped a hand around her mouth to call out to the, now, youngest witch in the room. “Susan, it’s all up to you now!”

Determined to not let her queen and mentor down, Susan ran towards the closest wall before leaping in the air feet-first towards it. The moment her feet came into contact with its surface, the teenager propelled herself to rise high above the ginormous beast. As soon as she was within optimal range, she hurled the spherical jar at it, which broke against the iguana’s hard-as-steel scales. In an instant, a cloud of turquoise, twinkling smoke enveloped the beast. 

Coughing and clearing the air around her with a wave of her hand, Sam dared look up to the direction the large creature once stood at. To her immense relief, she saw nothing. So willing her magic to deactivate, she walked over to where the, now, normal-sized iguana was. 

Smiling, she picked the lizard up. “You gave us quite the scare, right, little guy?”

“What do you intend to do with it, your Majesty?” Susan asked as soon as she nimbly landed on her feet the same way a professional gymnast would. 

“Why don’t you keep it? I believe you’ve mentioned Duke Scalynton needed a friend a few times now.” She suggested as she handed the iguana to the potion-maker in-training.

Looking down at the iguana in her hands, she turned to her mentor. “Would that be alright, Ms. Redring?”

“Perfectly so, Susan. Don’t worry.” Wilhelmina assured her, putting a hand on her shoulder. “You did well today.”

Susan smiled brightly at that. Sam, on the contrary, could only frown at her. “Wilhelmina, the kids told me you were supposed to be looking after them, but you left them to clean everything by themselves before classes were officially over.”

The Minister of War remained impassive. “My apologies, your Majesty. I had other matters to attend to that required my immediate attention, and since today’s potion was rather simple, I supposed they’d be fine on their own for a few minutes.”

“So because you had better things to do you completely ignored one of our most important rules and risked the lives of six little girls in the process?” Sam seethed, arms crossed, her eyes blazing a dangerous, dark violet for a second. 

Wilhelmina narrowed her own eyes on her. “Careful, your Majesty. I don’t believe you’re in any position to say anything. Seeing as how often you completely disregard protocol; or have you already forgotten that you should have waited for back up before facing off against the threat yourself, hm?”

Sam balled her hands into fists at her sides, knowing, and hating, that she had her there. Turning around to leave the room, she spat. “Just, don’t let it happen again.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it, my Queen.” The brunette let out, almost sinisterly. 

Susan was petting her new pet when she noticed a shadow casted over her. Looking up, she almost gasped. “You did well today, girl. Just, do me a favour and keep that thing away from me.” Paulina told her with a smile, keeping a respectable distance between herself and the iguana in the teenager’s arms. 

Susan’s mind, other times sharp and focused, was suddenly completely blank. Mouth hanging open and eyes blinking at random intervals, she was sure she was gaping at the beautiful woman before her. “Uh...I...I mean…,” she stammered, “y-you look good, too! I-I mean! You did good, too. Obviously. Ah! Not like you don’t look good, too! You always look good! Just...you know, yeah…” She finished lamely. 

Oh, why couldn’t the iguana have eaten her before she spouted all that nonsense?!

“Okay…” The Latina drawled. “Well, I gotta go. See ya.”

“Yeah, see ya…” The teenage girl sighed dreamily, before realising what she was doing and facepalming herself. 

Now that they were outside of the training room and accompanying Sam to her quarters, for they had to help her get ready, Paulina eyed her best friend’s knowing grin in distaste. “What?” She snapped. 

“Somebody’s got a crush on you!” The blonde teased in a sing-song voice, the shit-eating grin never leaving her face. 

But the Latina just huffed. “Please! And who doesn’t? I’ve had my fair share of admirers since we were in ninth grade, Star. Don’t make such a big deal out of it.”

“That may be true,” Star conceded, “but I think this is the first time a younger girl’s crushing on you and you’re actually nice to her. The Pauli from back in Senior year would’ve crushed her dreams in a heartbeat.” She commented offhandedly, ignoring the look of pure horror flashing through their Queen’s face. 

The blue-eyed beauty just rolled her eyes. Since she wasn’t used to being on the receiving end, she often forgot how ruthless her best friend could be when she was met with some quality gossip. “I’m not eighteen anymore, Star! And Susan’s a good kid, of course I’m not going to be a bitch to her.”

“So you like her back?” The blonde asked, now feeling apprehensive. 

“Are you crazy?!” Paulina snapped at her, turning her face in her direction so fast she almost gave herself whiplash. “First of all, she’s seventeen! I might like to party, but I’d never date a minor.” She sniffed in displeasure. Seriously, what was this girl thinking?! 

Her fellow handmaiden sighed in relief. “Thank Goodness, I was actually worried for a second. Just...try letting her down gently, okay?” 

“Who do you take me for? Besides, even if she were our age, which, again, she’s not, I just don’t swing that way.”

Star let out a hollow laugh. “Don’t try selling me the ‘I don’t swing that way excuse’, I’ve seen you throw your principles out of the window for the sake of screwing people over. And about letting her down gently, admit it Pauli, you can be a bit of a bitch.”

Sam, not daring to say a word, could only furrow her brow at what her subjects were saying. “What the Hell?”

Ignoring their queen’s silent judgement, Paulina gasped in surprise. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

Rather than backing off given her friend’s reaction, Star only snorted. “Oh, come on. Don’t pretend you don’t remember that one time in ninth grade that you agreed to go to homecoming with a complete loser just so Dash could play a joke on him.” Then, she turned pensive. “Hm, now that I think about it, we never did pull the prank on him...I wonder why.” She muttered to herself. 

Paulina’s mouth made an ‘o’ shape at the reminder. “Oooooh, that’s right! Yes, I did totally do that. Such a shame the guy was a total loser; he at least had decent taste in jewelry.”

The two kept chattering away until they noticed their queen’s appalled expression, her jaw hanging low. Giggling sheepishly, Paulina tried to save some face, Star nodding with a forced smile beside her. “That was a long time ago. We’ve grown up, we promise.” 

Blinking slowly at them, Sam forced her mouth shut. Doing a dusting-her-hands-off motion, she symbolically separated herself from anything having to do with their high school lives. “Something tells me we wouldn’t have got along growing up.”

“Then isn’t it great we only met outside of high school?” Star offered. 

“I think I’d much rather you just talk to me either about things going on inside the manor, or whatever crazy shit you’re up to at college.” The violet-eyed witch insisted as she turned her doorknob to let them in. For that day’s appointment she wanted to spice things up a little, but she still wanted a simple look that matched with her usual self, hence why she needed the girls’ help. 

“Oh. My. God!” Paulina exclaimed, raising her palms up as she entered the room. “You will not believe the drama that’s stirring at APU right now!”

Star, who was already seated on one of Sam’s chairs, made a sound of appreciation. “Ooooh! Do tell.”

As Sam went over to her closet and began to randomly pick up different clothes to ask the girl’s opinion onーt-shirts, jeans, skirts, dresses even…ーPaulina went on with her retelling, she and Star sporadically putting a stop on their conversation to give their queen some feedback. “Remember Tiffany? That two-faced, bitchy classmate of mine who’s been totally jealous of me since, like, forever?”

“Tiffany is a rather stereotypically bitchy name.” Sam commented, her focus on two different t-shirts. “As in, high school queen bee, cheerleader captain kind of bitchy.”

“I was a high school queen bee, cheerleader captain, Sam.” Paulina deadpanned. 

“Oh!” Sam faulted, biting her lip in embarrassment as she wondered how she’d fix that one. “Well, your name is not stereotypically bitchy...Tiffany is. I mean, how many high school chick flick villains are dumb blondes called Brittany, or Tiffany, or Cassidy…?”

“She does have a point.” Star conceded, propping her elbow against the chair’s back. 

With her index and thumb cupping her chin, the Latina ‘hmmed’ in acknowledgement. “Fair enough. Anyway, Sandra told me that Luka told her that Eliza told him that Tiffany’s out to get me ‘cause she’s so jealous it’s ripping her apart.”

As her ladies-in-waiting turned down her latest outfit, Sam arched an eyebrow, not following the conversation. “But didn’t you just say she’s always been jealous of you? What’s new about that?”

“What’s new is that now she’s jealous of me because Brad Carmichael, her ex-boyfriend with whom she broke up because he was dating a girl from Elmerton University behind her backーnot like she’s been a model girlfriend herself, if you know what I meanー, is apparently into me. And she can’t stand it.”

“But are you into Brad?” Star questioned, while Sam was busier wondering how she even managed to keep track of what Paulina was talking about in the first place. She’d already forgotten the guy’s name was Brad, for fuck’s sake! Her best guess was that keeping up with the latest gossip was some sort of ‘popular girl’ superpower.

Paulina let herself flop down on Sam’s bed with a noncommittal sound coming from her throat. “I mean, Brad’s cute, but I’m sort of seeing Matthew at the moment you know?”

“Sort of seeing?” Sam echoed. 

“Yeah, he wants us to go steady but, like, I don’t know if I want to tie myself down to anyone right now, you know? I just don’t think I’m ready to be ‘Matthew’s girlfriend.’ But I know that if I tell him that, he’ll think I want to stop going out altogether, when I just don’t want to rush to label what we have. That’s all.”

“Why do you even have to become ‘Matthew’s girlfriend’? Why can’t he be ‘Paulina’s boyfriend’?” For a moment there, Sam worried the feminist inside her had ruined the conversation, if their silence was any indication, until Paulina, almost automatically, moved to a sitting position, looking like she’d just had a spiritual awakening.

“OMG, you’re so right! “ She exclaimed. “If Matthew can’t accept being labeled my boyfriend, then he’s not worthy of my time. Period. Thanks for the advice, Sam.”

“Uh, you’re welcome?” Sam said, feeling unsure. “Now, could you guys please help me get ready? ‘Cause I still don’t know what to wear…”

Both ladies-in-waiting exchanged a glance, before shrugging. Star was the one who voiced their opinion. “The clothes you have in your hands right now are fine. Just combine them with your usual look and you’ve got your casual, yet original, outfit.”

Looking down at the items in hand, Sam had to admit, they really seemed perfect. “Thanks, girls. You two are the best.”

“We know.” They said in unison.

............

The Verde Que te Quiero Verde was the latest rage in vegetarian restaurants. The establishment was owned by a couple of elderly Mexican immigrants who, per their grandson’s suggestion, had given the typical Tex-Mex food a vegan spin. 

All websites reviewing the place gave nothing but praise to the meals and service, and about half of the comments recommended asking for their nachos with guacamole and vegan cheese. Its prices were also known for being very reasonable. 

‘Lowly’ Mexican food turned vegan and exorbitant-prices free, the kind of place Pamela Manson would rather die than step foot in. 

Which was why Sam was so thankful that Saturday night it was just her dad and her, for her mother was busy background checking anyone who wanted to rent the manor for the upcoming Halloween. 

Her dad and her were already seated and looking over the menus, but she couldn’t help being distracted by her surroundings. Despite the more modern take, the Verde Que te Quiero Verde resembled the typical Mexican hacienda, with its white-chalk walls, the red tile roofs, its arches… The restaurant was even a two-story building whose second floor, which held even more tables, had balconies offering a nice view of the fountain in the middle of the room and tables surrounding it below. 

It was positively lovely. 

And yet...Sam couldn’t quite enjoy it as much as she’d like. 

She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was definitely off with Wilhelmina. Leaving a group of inexperienced, little girls at their mercy while they performed magic? What was she thinking?! She had no idea how lucky she was, had anything happened to any of the girls and she would’ve been put to trial, leading to losing her position as Council member, at best, or to being expelled from the coven altogether, at worst. 

Subconsciously, Sam gripped her menu a little tighter. Wilhelmina was already around when she was a kid and Grandma Ida was still queen. Back then, she remembered, she gave off this strict and stern vibe, even more so than Margaret with her by-the-book nature. But ever since she ascended to the throne, her strictiness had turned into outright arrogance. 

Back when she was fourteen and had just volunteered herself as the next queen, Wilhelmina seemed the less willing to give in. She was the quickest to point out her age and inexperience, and Margaret and the, then, newly appointed Delilah miraculously managed to get their fellow member to give her a chance. If just barely. 

Even know, after seven years of devout sacrifice in the name of the Amity Park Clan, that frustrating pain in the butt still hadn’t let go of her reservations towards her; often making snide comments that casted doubts on her leadershipーlike the one from earlier…ー, or looking over her shoulder with an air of superiority. 

All that, Sam could, begrudgingly, put up with. But putting innocent kids in harm’s way and then having the gall to act all smug on her?! What if Phantom had been right? What if there really were witches up to no good right under her nose? What if…?

“Sammy?” Her dad’s voice cut through her thoughts like a knife cut through butter. 

“Huh?” She responded, oh, so eloquently. 

“Are you okay? I’ve been calling you for a while now and you haven’t answered until now. Also, it looks like you’ve tried to strangle your menu over some sort of terrible crime…” He pointed at the crumbled piece of paper in her hands to demonstrate his point. 

Looking down and noticing the mess she’d made of the poor aforementioned piece of paper, she set it down gently with a sheepish smile on her face, “I’m fine, Dad. Just...thinking.”

“About what?”

“Stuff.” At her dad’s questioning, raised eyebrow she elaborated. “Frustrating stuff.”

“Kiddo, please, enter a literary contest; you’re so eloquent and articulate.” Jeremy deadpanned, setting his own menu down and propping his chin on his intertwined hands.

Sam rolled her eyes, letting out a hollow laugh. “Hilarious, Dad. Aren’t you supposed to be the preppy and optimistic one of the two?”

“I am.” He agreed. “But I’m also a Manson and your Grandma’s son. So you could say snarking runs in the family.”

Parents looking as smug and self-satisfied as her dad did at that moment should be illegal. Crossing her arms with a scowl, Sam slouched on her seat. “Whatever.”

Jeremy just shook his head fondly at his daughter. “You’re lucky your mother isn’t here right now, young lady. Otherwise, she would scold you on your posture.”

The mere mention of her mother made her straighten up, reflexively. 

“But now seriously, kiddo. What’s the matter? You know you can talk to your old man about anything.” He offered her an encouraging smile. 

Unfortunately, his readiness to be there for her only made her heart sank. No, I can’t, she wanted to say, but instead opted for, “I’m...having trouble with a...with a classmate.” She lied, hating herself for it. “I was elected as team leader, but she’s never quite been able to accept it. Maybe she wanted the position herself, maybe she just doesn’t think I’m good for the job...I don’t know. All I know is that she makes no effort in hiding her displeasure.

“Which, okay. I can take it, I guess. I mean, one more person who doesn’t like me! Boy is that old news...But she’s made a mistake recently and she didn’t even apologise; she just rubbed my own mistakes in my face. And I...I don’t know what to do, Dad.”

Jeremy stayed quiet for a minute, just observing his daughter with a keen eye. Maybe saying he and Sam were close was a little far-fetched; Pamela and, surprisingly enough, his mother had always insisted on signing her up for a million extracurricular activities growing upーironic, when one took the fact that she’d also been homeschooled for most of her life into consideration. But he’d learned long ago to not question it, after all, their Sammy had turned out okay and very capable in the end. 

He had to admit, he didn’t always understand her, either. Like her interest in the occult, her love for loud, unsavory bands with questionable taste in names, or her insistence on being identified as a Goth since she was twelve. As a man used to making his wife happy with diamonds the size of strawberries, giving his daughter spiked collars for her birthday left him feeling a little queasy. But, hey, if it made her happy… As long as she didn’t join a cult he was golden.

But there were still moments when even Sam, his strong-willed, independent, confident baby girl, felt vulnerable against the cruel world she lived in. And it was in those moments when he had to take the lead and be the responsible authority figure in the relationship. Moments like now. 

Reaching across the table, he rested his hand atop of hers, directing her attention to him. “Sometimes people will try to make our lives difficult, but we mustn’t let that stop us from doing what we think it’s right. So your friend doesn’t think you’re doing a good job leading the team? Then let her think that! If it’s only one person who feels that way, then she’s probably just trying to mess with you.

“But if the other people in your group feel the same way, then maybe you should take a moment to reevaluate things. Don’t be afraid to ask this girl about her opinion. Who knows? Maybe she does have something valuable to contribute.”

Alright, this was all great advice for actual teamwork, but it didn’t apply to her problem. She was trying to rule a coven, not decorate the gym for the upcoming prom. “What are you trying to say, Dad?”

“I just think you shouldn’t take everything on by yourself, Sammy.” He said as he patted her hand, then he leaned back on his chair at the same time as he picked his forgotten menu up. “Now, do you know what you want to eat, or should we wait a few more minutes?”

Sam couldn’t help sending her dad a small smile, even if it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She was about to answer when she caught sight of something over his shoulder that made her breath hitch. “Holy shit!”

Jeremy’s head shot up at that. “Samantha, language!”

Uh, oh. He used her full name. “Uh, sorry about that, Dad.” She apologised sheepishly, before standing up and pointing behind him, much to Jeremy’s horror. What was up with this girl’s manners today!? “It’s just that I know the person who’s just entered the restaurant.”

Turning around much more discreetly than Sam, Jeremy raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “You mean the people talking to the maître d’?” 

Completely unaware of the fact that they were the focus of the conversation of two of the restaurant’s patrons, Jazz and Danny stood at the entrance, talking to the maître d’. Well, Jazz was talking to the maître d’, looking almost unhinged, Danny was just praying they wouldn’t be kicked out just because his sister had chosen now, of all times, to act as unreasonable as their dad.

“What do you mean there’s no table available?!” She screeched, causing a few customers to turn around to look at her and her brother to look away in embarrassment. “I made the reservation almost two weeks ago! Fenton, Jazz Fenton. Come on, I highly doubt there’s many more Fentons in Amity Park.”

The man tending to them had to be the most patient person on the planet, Danny figured. Or the most emotionless. “My apologies, Miss. But there really is no reservation under a Jazz Fenton.”

“Maybe you put it under another member of the family?” Danny offered before addressing the headwaiter himself. “How about under Danny Fenton?”

The employee looked through his agenda before shaking his head. 

“And Maddie Fenton?” Jazz tried.

Again, the man shook his head no. 

“Jack Fenton?” She was starting to grow desperate now. 

And, again, no such luck. 

Watching as Jazz’s eye started twitching, Danny genuinely feared he’d have to restrain his sister from doing something crazy when the sound of someone clearing their throat caught everyone’s attention. Looking at the direction the sound came from, the Fenton siblings could only gape at the sight of a middle-aged man with perfectly coiffed, blond hair, dark blue eyes, and sharply dressed with a crochet vest, light, khaki pants, and black dress shoes standing before them. 

The mysterious man turned to the maître d’. “It’s quite alright, my good sir. They’re with us.”

The emotionless man suddenly developed a personality, for he smiled brightly at the other man. “Oh, I see! Would you like some extra chairs, sir?”

“If you don’t mind.” 

“Of course, we’ll bring some extra chairs, utensils, and menus to your table momentarily.” And with that the waiter left them alone. 

The blond turned to them, a welcoming smile on his face. “Don’t be shy, you two. Come sit with us.” And, by some sort of spell, they followed after him. 

In the meantime, brother and sister shared a questioning glance. They were both obviously curious as to who these ‘us’ were. Clearing his throat, Danny ventured. “Um, excuse me sir, but do we know you?”

The mystery, well-dressed man just laughed cordially. “Oh, no. You certainly don’t. As a matter of fact, I don’t know you, either. But my daughter seems to know you, young man.”

Before Danny could so much as ask what he was even talking about, the man stopped beside a table, motioning with his hand to his companion. The halfa almost fell flat on his butt in astonishment. 

Getting up from her chair was Sam. Although she had a different outfit than usual, her style was still mostly casual, as opposed to her companion’s preppy clothes.

She was wearing a simple black t-shirt with a drawing of a purple rose on it (why was it so familiar?); a neon green skirt with a spiderweb pattern; a spiked collar with a purple pendant was around her neck; and she wore fingerless, black fishnet gloves. Other than that she looked the same as always. She still had her trademark combat boots and thigh-length, purple stockings on, and her hair was still long and black on one side, while the other was shaved with purple undertones; a green ponytail in a purple scrunchie sticking up. 

“Sam, is that you?” He breathed out.

The girl in question could barely believe her eyes. Right in front of her was Danny. She was almost stunned she could recognise him practically anywhere. But then she rationalised; of course she’d recognise him! He looked practically the same as always! With his messy, jet-black hair falling down his face; a pair of blue jeans, his favourite red sneakers...The only thing different about him was the hoodie he was wearing, really. It was mostly white, except for its red cuffs, zipper, draw strings, and the circle it had plastered on its front. 

...well, the only thing that was different was his hoodie and the girl beside him, now that she took a better look. 

She was around her height, but she seemed slightly older. She was a redhead sporting a cute pixie cut, with a lovely face and striking, aqua eyes. The girl was wearing a square, teal plaid dress over a white, long-sleeved shirt, and black tights with white boots. Her outfit was perfectly coordinated, except for a brown, leather shoulder bag that seemed oddly out of place. 

Sam was sure she had never seen her before, but she was just so familiar…

Noticing she was up and Danny was still waiting for her answer, she hurriedly went over to him to shake his and his companion’s hands. “Yes! Yes, it’s me, Danny. And...I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, but you are…?”

“Oh, I’m Jazz!” The mysterious girl perked up. “I’m Danny’s sister.”

“Oh, she’s just his sister,” Sam thought to herself, relieved. Wait, relieved? What did she have to be worried about? She thought best to shake those feelings off and stow them for later. “Nice to meet you. I’m Sam, a friend of Danny’s.”

Jazz’s eyes lit up in recognition. “Oh, so you’re Sam! Danny’s told me about you.”

“He has?” Both Mansons asked, but for completely different reasons. And only one of them knew exactly why they asked. 

Just as they were introducing themselves, the restaurant’s staff came and set the two extra chairs and items down. His senses tinglingーonly it wasn’t his Ghost Sense, but a sense of danger he couldn’t quite put his finger onー, Danny focused his attention on the other man at the table, who seemed to be glaring daggers at him, for some reason. He swallowed the uncomfortable lump in his throat. “I’m sorry, sir. But I don’t think we’ve been introduced.”

The blond plastered a smile on his face as they finally sat down. To anyone else, it would’ve seemed friendly, but to Danny it looked oddly sinister. “Oh, my bad. I’m Jeremy, Jeremy Manson. I’m Sam’s father.”

While a primal fear clutched Danny’s heart in an iron grip, Jazz audibly gasped. “Wait, Jeremy Manson? As in, the Mansons?”

His sister’s astonished expression, as well as Sam’s mortified one, enabled him to ignore his sudden worries for a minute in favour of his curiosity. “You know them?” He asked his sister. 

In turn, Jazz just scoffed, looking away from him in exasperation. Of course not only would Danny have no idea who he hung out with, he also had to embarrass them right in front of the two people in question. “Danny, I think you’re literally the only person in all of Amity Park who doesn’t know them. Ironically…” Seeing as he still didn’t get the hint, she gave up. “The Mansons are the descendants of Izzy Manson, the inventor of the machine that wraps cellophane around chopsticks, and therefore, they oversee the patent.”

“So, you’re saying…” 

Ugh, somebody put her out of her misery, goddamnit! “She’s saying we’re rich, Danny. Very. Stinking. Rich.” Sam deadpanned. Well, there went that little piece of information she didn’t like her friends finding out about. Although, a part of her was about to burst out laughing at the way the boy’s eyes all but popped out of their sockets. 

Danny, on his part, didn’t know what was more shocking. The fact that Sam came from a wealthy family, or the fact that she, a cynical, brooding, activism-oriented girl, was related to classy, perky, sunny Jeremy Manson. They literally had nothing in common! Not even facial features! Unless Sam was just a carbon copy of her mother, those were some weird genetics. 

Danny’s prolonged silence made her grow anxious, so Sam quickly changed topics. “So...what are you doing here? You know this place serves vegetables, right?” She just hoped their usual teasing dynamics would save them from the awkwardness. 

Luckily for her, it did. The halfa countered her teasing tone with an easy grin. “Yeah, I know. But Jazz was really looking forward to coming to this place and, since convincing our fudge-loving father to take her would have been impossible, she played the older sister card on me.”

Jazz just huffed in response. “Oh, shut up. Just be thankful this is a vegan, Mexican restaurant; you’re bound to find something you like.”

“Yeah, I can always just stuff my face on nachos with guacamole.” He quipped back. 

The hazel-eyed student turned her focus to the older girl, her face lighting up. “Oh! You’re vegan?”

“Oh, no. I’m not. I’m just much more willing to eat healthy food than my brother, who I still don’t understand how he could’ve grown so much given his atrocious diet!” She finished pointedly. 

“Hey!” Danny protested. “My diet’s not ‘atrocious’! So what if I’m not actively looking for vegan restaurants? I still eat everything I need.”

“I once saw you eat nothing but oreos and soda for two weeks when you were sixteen.” His sister pointed out, without missing a beat. 

That made him wince, not appreciating the reminder. “Okay, so maybe that wasn’t my best moment. But, the soda gave me the liquids and sugar I needed and the oreos gave me carbohydrates and proteinーmaybe, if they’re baked with milk…”

“Oreos are actually vegan.” Sam pointed out. 

Although her comment was meant to annul his point, it seemed to validate it, instead, for he sent a smug look at Jazz. “Ha! You heard that? Turns out I’m healthier than you, Daisy Green.”

“Oh, just shut up.” His sister grunted, exasperated. 

The father-daughter duo just exchanged glances, not used to this sort of family interactions. After a beat, Jeremy spoke up. “How about we order, huh?”

Picking up his own menu, Danny’s face morphed itself in confusion. “Uh...I have literally no idea what to ask for. Sam, you’re the expert, what do you recommend?”

By his side, Jazz perked up. “That’s right! You’re vegan aren’t you?”

“Ultra-recyclo-vegetarian.” She corrected, although she wasn’t sure why; nobody ever really got the difference.

And, lo and behold, neither did Jazz. “Pardon?”

Sam was about to tell her to let it go, when Danny beat her to it. “Sam doesn’t just avoid eating anything with a face, she also eats everything on her plate.”

When he sent her a wink and a friendly smile, Sam almost puddled. She soon regained her senses, though. Alright, so it was touching that he retained that piece of information when most people tended to forget all about it, but that still wasn’t grounds to make a fool out of herself. Finally, she opted for pushing those feelings aside. “This is my first time here, too. But as the only experienced veggie-eater at the table, I’d suggest that if you’re not feeling up to experimenting with new things, then just stick to what you’d usually order from a regular Taco Bell.”

She lowered her menu for them to see as she pointed at certain meals. “For example, Danny, you could try ordering the Burrito Vegano. Judging by its ingredients, it's exactly the same as your usual burrito except for the lack of meat. So you shouldn’t miss much.

“If any of you feels more adventurous, then you could try the vegan Quesadillas, just keep in mind that rather than being exactly the same as the regular ones but with vegetables, instead of cheese they have humus.”

“What about snacks?” Jeremy asked, as enthralled in her explanation as their impromptu guests. 

“Oh, I’m definitely ordering their famous nachos with guacamole and vegan nacho cheese. Everyone recommends it.”

“What’s vegan nacho cheese even made of?” Danny scrunched his face up in disgust. “Is it even edible?”

Sam scoffed. Typical carnivore response. “Not any less than the barely passable-for-human-consumption, acrylic orange paint that is the usual nacho cheese. And to answer your question, it’s made of carrots and peppers.”

“Wow.” Danny breathed, impressed once again by Sam’s ability to monologue without the need for breath. “You really have a strong opinion on nacho cheese.”

“Oh, you don’t even know half of the things she has a strong opinion on.” Jeremy muttered. 

Before Sam could so much as protest at her dad’s familiar exasperation at her altruistic ways, a waiter, notepad and pen in hand, appeared behind her. “Have the ladies and gentlemen made their decision yet?”

Looking over the table and receiving nods in confirmation, the Manson patriarch took the lead. “I believe we have.”

“Excellent.” The waiter said. “What do you want to drink?”

“Well, I’d normally ask for a bottle of your best wine, but I’m driving tonight, so I’ll have a Mr. Pepper.”

“Of course, sir. And everyone else?”

“I’m driving too, so I’ll have a Lemon Nestea, please.” Jazz said. 

It was Danny’s turn. “I’m not driving. I’ll have a beer.” 

“We serve Coronita, is that alright with you, sir?”

“Yeah, it’s fine.”

Finally, he turned to Sam. “And you, Miss?”

“Another beer’s fine.”

The waiter wrote everything down. “Alright, so that’s a Mr. Pepper, a Lemon Nestea, and two beers; is that right?” At the sounds of agreement, he went on. “Alright. Have you decided on your food yet, or do you need more time?”

It was Sam’s turn to perk up. “We’ll have some nachos with guacamole and vegan cheese to share. I’ll have the Tofu Tacos; You make them yourself once they’re served, right?” The waiter nodded. “Then, yes. The tacos.” Then she pointed at her dad. “And my Dad’ll have the fajitas.” 

As their waiter wrote everything down, she directed her attention at the siblings. “And you guys…?”

“Hm, I think I’ll have the vegan quesadillas.” Jazz said. “I gotta admit, when you said they have humus I’d already made up my mind! And you, Danny?”

Danny kept frantically scanning his menu. He didn’t know what half of those things were! All he knew was that it was Mexican food with extra vegetables. “Uh...I...I’ll have the Burrito Vegano?” He just hoped Sam was right and it’d be similar to the regular thing. 

“An excellent choice.” The waiter commented before taking their menus away. “Your drinks and nachos will be out shortly.”

After the waiter left, they kept on chattering idly about everything and nothing. How Sam and Danny knew each other, why Jeremy had, completely out of the blue, decided to let them have dinner with them, what their parents’ did for a living… That’s when things got a little awkward. Although Mr. Manson was trying his hardest to remain neutralーSam’s constant glares served as a good incentiveーit was plain to see he didn’t think highly of their parents and their job. 

Danny and Jazz would be lying if they said they weren’t already used to it, or even understood his concerns. 

Just as their drinks were being served, Mr. Manson’s cell phone started ringing. He took a quick glance at the caller and immediately winced, which didn’t go unnoticed by his daughter. “Dad…? Is everything okay?”

“What? Oh! Oh, yes. Everything’s fine, kiddo. I just have to take this real quick.” He explained as he got up from his chair, about to make his way to a less crowded area of the restaurant. “I’ll be right back.”

“Is he okay?” Jazz asked, slightly concerned. 

Sam could only shrug in response. “He says so.” Noticing the sudden rise in tension, she chose to change topics instead. “Um, I don’t really have any siblings to know better but, you two are close, right? I know my fair share of families who wouldn’t spend any non-essential time together otherwise.” Like mine, was what she didn’t say.

“You could say that.” Jazz replied, almost enigmatically. 

Normally, Danny wouldn’t go into detail as to why he and Jazz were so closeーthree guesses why and the first two didn’t countーbut there was something about Sam that told him she would understand. Granted, he couldn’t tell her everything, let alone in the middle of a relatively crowded restaurant, but he could shed some light over her queries. He guessed he felt the need to be open and share things with her because the other day she opened up to him and Tucker.

“Well,” he started, “if I’m being honest, I’ve always been closer to my older sister than my parents…”

"How so?" Sam couldn't believe she had the nerve to ask him that when her own relationship with her parents was, most of the time, rocky, at best. 

Did she really have to put him on the spot like that? “No, Danny,” he scolded himself, “you wanted to be honest with her yourself. Don’t blame it on her.” Rubbing the back of his neck, he tried to explain as best as he could while revealing as little as possible. “Uh... it's just...my parents are ghosthunters, as you know, so ghosts have always been present in my house, making things incredibly difficult for Jazz and me growing up.” Like eating savage, ecto-wieners for dinner, having every single personal problem compared to some ghost-hunting analogy, or being mortified and ostracised by his peers as a result. “And things...things only got even more complicated when I was a teenager.”

That was the part he couldn’t go in detail about. Mainly because what truly made things more complicated was the fact that all deep conversations, honesty, and family bonds were tattered the moment he became the very half-ghost whose dissection his parents often fantasized about. “As a result, I guess you could say Jazz and I ganged up together. The Fenton siblings against the world when our parents were too busy with their job.” When he felt Jazz’s warm hand on his cold one, he couldn't help but meet her concerned face with a small smile in thanks for everything she’d ever done for him.

A wave of sympathy washed over Sam at Danny and Jazz's predicament. It was easy to forget Amity Park didn't even know ghosts existed until seven years ago, when Phantom and his putrid kind appeared out of the blue, because witches never forgot their existence in the first place. She could understand being overlooked in favour of creatures of dubious existence must've caused them great pain growing up.

Noticing her heartbroken look, Danny immediately tried to lighten up the mood. “Don’t worry, though. We might not be as close to our parents as we were when we were little, but we still all love each other.”

“Yeah,” Jazz assured her, “no need to feel bad for us, Sam. It’s still nice to see a daughter being close to her dad like you two are.” Her words were meant to bring the hazel-eyed Goth comfort, but her brows knitted together in concern at the look on her face.

Albeit Sam was smiling, it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Lowering her head, almost hiding her face from view, she shook it, sadly.

After a minute or two of silence Danny was about to ask her if she was alright when she spoke. “Don’t let appearances fool you; my Dad and I aren’t exactly close, either.”

“But...but you two seem to get along so well…” Jazz started, but was cut off by Sam.

“We get along,” she confirmed, “but we’ve never been close. My parents are the complete opposite of me, and it showsーthey’ve never been able to understand me, my Grandma did.”

Danny almost regretted having to ask. “Is your Grandma…?”

The Goth just nodded. “She passed away when I was fourteen. She was the only person to ever understand me and accept me for who I am. You could say I’ve been on my own ever since, although in a psychological/spiritual sense.”

“Is that the reason why you’re Goth?” Jazz couldn’t hold herself back from asking, her psychologist instincts taking the reins of the situation. Shocked at her behaviour, Danny kicked her gently on her shin from under the table. 

He ignored her glare in favour of distracting Sam from her question. “What about your mother, aren’t you two close?”

The harsh laugh she let out startled them both. “I might not be close to my Dad, but compared to my relationship with my mother, I’m practically a daddy’s girl.”

A shadow casted over her hazel eyes, other times so full of fire and mischief, and Danny didn’t like it one bit. Reaching over to grab her hand in his, making her gasp in surprise, he sent her a gentle smile. “Thank you for sharing that about yourself with us.”

She returned the smile. “Thank you for sharing that about your parents with me.”

They kept staring into each other’s eyes, not caring about anything around them, until the clatter of the nacho plate being set down on their table broke them out of their thoughts. While Danny chose to ignore her sister’s annoying smirk, Sam thanked the waiter. Then, she turned to the siblings. “Well? What are you waiting for? Dig in!”

They did as they were told, and their faces split in matching grins. Hmming in appreciation, the black-haired half-ghost dipped another tortilla chip into the vegan cheese. “This ain’t half bad!”

Sam just chuckled. “Told you.”

After a, surprisingly, rather pleasant dinner between the two different families, it was time to say goodbye. Since they were the ones driving them home, Jazz and Mr. Manson left first to look for their respective cars, leaving Danny and Sam some extra time to talk. 

“Well, that was a pleasant surprise.” Danny commented, putting his hands inside his hoodie’s pocket. 

“Yeah, it really was.” Sam smiled when, suddenly, a cold breeze whooshed by, making her shiver. 

Noticing her hugging herself from the corner of his eyes, he immediately took action. “Here, let me help. It’s starting to get cold.” He said, even when his cryokinesis made him immune to cold years ago.

“Danny, I’m fineー” she began, but was interrupted by Danny slipping his hoodie on over her shoulders. As he lent her his jacket, their eyes locked. For a moment, time stopped. The Earth stopped moving. Nothing else mattered but each other’s eyes; Danny’s precious baby blue, and Sam’s vibrant hazel. Then, the sound of a not-so-distant honk broke the spell, causing them to quickly avert their eyes, a hint of pink dusting their cheeks.

Sam wasn’t cold anymore. 

As Jazz opened the door for Danny, he waved her goodbye, which Sam returned. Now that she was alone with her thoughtsーand Danny’s hoodieーwaiting for her Dad to appear with his own car, she couldn’t stop herself from sniffing the garment. It smelled like wood and freshly rained soil, but there was something else. Something...familiar she couldn’t quite put her finger on. 

Whatever it was, she liked it. 

It smelled like Danny.

[razieltwelve]

Kill Order (Final Rose)

As the explosion raged against her glyph, Weiss activated Luna’s personal forcefield and all but threw the girl at one of her bodyguards. “Get her behind cover.” 

“Yes, ma’am.”

The explosion finally began to peter out, and Weiss began to bark orders at the other bodyguards. “Team 1, you’re with me. Team 2, I want you to split, take the buildings on either side. Sweep the rooftops.” She paused as a low, angry growl filled the air. “Zahn...” The wolf glanced at her, and Weiss gave the order. “Kill.”

X     X     X

What sets Oerban timber wolves apart from most of their lupine kin is not merely their size although they are the largest wolves in the world. Instead, what truly makes them unique is how heavily they make use of Aura during combat. Like chocobos, Oerban timber wolves have learned how to enhance their strength, speed, and durability using Aura.

An adult Oerban timber wolf is more than capable of completely ignoring small arms fire, and more powerful wolves have been known to remain combat capable even after being struck by anti-tank rounds. To maximise their combat effectiveness, the Yun often equip their wolves with collars and bracers that contain personal forcefields and Aura batteries. The objective is to allow the wolf to reach their opponent without sustaining major damage. Once the wolf reaches their target, the result is often largely academic.

X     X     X

Zahn reached the first White Fang assassin and simply clamped his jaws around the Faunus’s head. The assassin’s Aura flared briefly and then shattered like glass. The wolf’s massive jaws closed with a wet thump, and he tossed the dead man aside as a stream of gunfire raced toward him.

Instincts that had been honed by years of training allowed him to zigzag through the oncoming barrage until he reached his next target. This one drew a sword and swiped at his side. The wolf leapt over the blow and crashed into the rabbit Faunus. The woman screamed as he brought one paw down with punishing force. To her credit, her Aura withstood the first blow, so Zahn twisted, seizing her leg in his jaws, and swung her into a nearby streetlight.

The metal bent beneath the force of the blow, and he shook his head and brought her down onto the pavement. Her Aura broke, and the concrete sidewalk cratered. Blood splattered the ground, and he fought the urge to howl as he bounded toward the group of White Fang firing on the members of his pack.

They saw him coming, and he understood immediately that he would not be able to dodge so many attacks. Instead, he would have to rely on his Aura and the defences his pack leaders had given him. Light flashed around him as those defences and his Aura withstood the onslaught. One of the White Fang gestured sharply, and an explosion threatened to drive him back.

Zahn roared and threw himself forward through the cloud of fire and force. He slammed into the closest assassin, and his sheer mass sent the man tumbling back. Rising to his feet, Zahn rammed another Faunus into a car, crumpling the vehicle and crushing the woman against it. A swipe of his paws sent a male Faunus tumbling through the air before he lunged at the one with the most Aura.

Another explosion bloomed to life against him, and Zahn felt the bracer on his rear left leg crack. That wasn’t good, but he still had three others and his collar. More importantly, he had managed to reach his opponent. With a blur of movement, the Faunus drew a spear and stabbed at his side. Zahn dodged as best he could, and the blow skittered off his flank. His teeth closed around the man’s wrist, and he tried to bite down. His opponent’s Aura resisted the attack, so he turned it into a throw, heaving him into the wall of the building beside them. 

“You damn monster!” the Faunus drew a knife with his other hand and drove it toward Zahn’s face. 

The wolf let go of the man’s wrist and jerked his head back before lowering his shoulder and driving it into his chest. The corner of the building broke off, and the pair of them rolled across the road. Zahn was on his feet first, and he struck with brutal force. He seized the Faunus’s left ankle in his mouth and used it to slam him into one of the trees that lined the sidewalk. Wood cracked, and Zahn bit down harder. Still, the White Fang member’s Aura refused to break. A desperate slash of the knife clattered against Zahn’s defences, and the wolf swung his head back around and smashed his opponent back into the ruins of the tree. Finally, his Aura broke, and Zahn darted forward.

“Get away from -”

CRUNCH.

Zahn tore off his head and most of his torso with one bit and then turned to scan the rooftops. One of his pack leaders was leading an assault further down the street. There was no need to go to her side. She was well protected. Instead, he would do what he did best. He would hunt. Movement from a nearby rooftop draw his eyes, and Zahn broke into a speedy lope.

X     X     X

Granite had worked for Weiss Schnee for the better part of five years. He’d been forced into battle several times while serving her, but this was by far the largest conflict he’d been involved in. In a way, he wasn’t surprised. With her wife away on a critical mission, Weiss was far more vulnerable. If Ruby had been here, it was entirely possible that all of their assailants would already be dead. Teleportation and ultra-high-speed movement were absolutely unfair sometimes.

Of course, that was what he and the others were for. Weiss packed more firepower than entire teams of hunters, but she was relatively fragile compared to her teammates. If she got hit - and that was a big if given her defensive glyphs - she wouldn’t be able to simply shrug it off the way someone like Yang Xiao Long could. But as long as he and the other bodyguards could protect her, Weiss was essentially living artillery. 

Case in point: the majority of the White Fang’s forces further down the street were currently being bombarded by bolts of super-heated ash travelling at rail-gun-like speeds. Upon impact those bolts would not only inflict hideous damage due to their speed but they would also explode, completely enveloping their target in ash that had been heated to thousands of degrees.

The only thing he and his team needed to do was keep the rooftops clear. A sniper was one of the only threats that stood a chance of getting Weiss, and they’d already eliminated several as they swept the rooftops. Once this was all over, there would definitely have to be an investigation. The White Fang had been all but destroyed for years. How had they managed to gather the resources for an attack of this magnitude?

However, his thoughts were soon interrupted as something burst out of a nearby roof. Well, crap. That was a war mech, a salvaged and heavily modified Atlas model by the looks of it. 

“Take it down!” Granite shouted. “Don’t let it fire!”

It was impossible to be completely sure of its load out, but the mech had several missile pods and what appeared to be a heavy plasma cannon on one arm. 

“Take out the plasma cannon!” Granite pointed. “Aim for the plasma cannon!”

Missiles filled the air, and he and the others were forced to take cover. He peeked around the corner in time to see the plasma cannon beginning to charge. 

“Damn it.” He raised his rifle and fired, but the bullets simply bounced off the mech’s forcefield. However, he must have done some damage because there was a sound like breaking glass as Zahn crashed through the forcefield and bit down on the cannon hard. “Watch the wolf,” he barked. 

Swinging back and forth, Zahn managed to brace his feet against the mech’s chassis. With a savage jerk of his head, he ripped the front half of the plasma cannon apart. The weapon shrieked and began spewing plasma everywhere. The wolf leapt clear, and Granite gestured wildly.

“Bring it down! Bring it down!”

One of the other bodyguards picked up a piece of rubble and threw it. The other man’s Semblance turned the projectile into a makeshift grenade, and it exploded against the mech’s side. The machine lumbered and then toppled off the rooftop. 

“Don’t let up!” Granite pointed. “Target the cockpit!”

X     X     X

Weiss took a moment to scan the street for any further danger. Good. The White Fang had been dealt with. Even so, she asked for a full sweep of the area before moving to where Luna had thankfully been kept safe. At her side, Zahn walked proudly. The wolf had proven his worth yet again, and nothing made him happier than doing his bit for his pack.

“Good boy.” Weiss reached over to scratch him behind his ears. “Good boy.” She noticed the blood staining his jaws and muzzle and paused. Hmm... she should probably clean him off a little before they met with Luna. 

X     X     X

Author’s Notes

It’s easy for people to forget because he’s so friendly and easy-going, but Zahn is more than six hundred pounds of lupine death that has been carefully honed over generations of selective breeding with years of training to hone his instincts. Backed up by technology, an adult Oerban timber wolf is extremely dangerous. That said, those same things that make him dangerous make him perfectly safe around Luna. The idea of actually harming her goes against all of his instincts and training. What makes wolves like Zahn even more dangerous is that they are also trained to work together if necessary. Together with their handlers, packs of Oerban timber wolves can and have brought down even S Tier Grimm.

The best bit is that after this, Zahn will probably spend his night being used as a teddy bear by Luna. Since she was kept safe behind cover during the whole fight, she wasn’t scared for herself so much as she was scared that something might happen to Weiss, Zahn, or the bodyguards, many of whom she has come to think of as friends since she’s known them for as long as she can remember.

If you’re interested in my thoughts on writing and other topics, you can find those here.

I also write original fiction, which you can find on Amazon here or on Audible here.