#i can barely complete 1 drawing why am i getting ideas about writing and creating assets for a whole vn pascy stoppppp

[undistortedworld]

being very delusional about the large scale projects i keep convincing myself i can do

[lilith-of-rivia]

The Bard’s Sister 

Geralt X Reader 

Part 2 

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3

Masterlist 

Summary: Geralt of Rivia and his long time travel companion Jaskier find themselves in Jaskiers home land. A place Geralt had not only never seen nor heard of. Jaskier is ready to reunite its his family after traveling and exploring the world for 20 years. The one person he missed the most was his baby sister (Y/N). Who he hadn't seen since she was 5. The journey is long, but the pay off is grander then they would ever be able to predict. This is still part of our introduction to the main characters and their personalities in this story. Next chapter will be more about (Y/N) and Geralt. I know I am trash at summaries.

I would like to state that I do plan on adding a pregnancy in the future to this story. (I know Geralt is steril. Just bare with me and the story line I’ve created) I just wanted to let eveyone know because I would hate for someone to get attached to the character and story only to have a plot line they do not like for themselves. I know not everyone like pregnancy plot lines but I’m such a sucker for dad!Geralt.

Trigger warnings: Cursing 

Pairings: GeraltxReader JaskierxSister!reader

Word count: 6,369

(Changed from 3rd to 1st person) 

The sun was high in the sky, it was nearly two in the afternoon. The garden below the large windows of the castle was shining brightly. The birds chirping, children playing in the river that ran through the center of the city. Life was good. The sun was shining a little brighter today. It was because Jaskier was finally home. 

I hadn’t realized how much I missed him till he was back. After breakfast, we walked around the castle’s courtyard. He and Geralt introduced me to their horses. To my pleasant surprise, Roach took a particular liking to me, as did her owner. He was nothing like the rumors. There were many times that I traveled out of our borders into the western part of the continent, and every time people had nothing but cruel fowl things to say about the poor witcher. Sure he wasn't perfect, but no one was. 

“Would you like to see my studies?” I asked as we walked down the long corridors that lead to three separate staircases. I glanced between the two men that were on either side of me. 

“Your studies?” Jaskier asked looking down at me. I couldn’t help but smile. 

“I told you in my letter that I’ve been working with a man over the last couple of years. He has trained me well. But I have many books, drawings notes all sorts of stuff that I’ve written about the world outside of our home.” We approached the base of the three staircases. 

“I’ve never seen a castle so big in my life.” Geralt’s sultry voice flooded my ears once again. I couldn’t help but smile up at him. He was so polite. He never turned his nose at us. I knew he didn’t have a very positive history with others like us. Yet he sent no judgment towards myself or my parents. He just listened, followed, and learned. I had never met someone so open to the world yet so closed off that the same time, and we’ve barely even begun to get o know each other.  

“Our mines are some of the richest you’d ever see in your life. From coal to diamonds. Nearly 85% of all ores get mined and sent out to the rest of the continent.” I started walking up the staircase on the far left, the stairs led up a long corridor that was open and bright, the mountains that shielded us from the rest of the world in perfect view. Both were still by my side. I stopped at the first picture that hung on the wall. 

“That’s my great-great-grandfather, he only recently passed but he started all of this.” I looked towards Geralt. He was listing intently, his eyes on me as soon as I looked in his direction. I knew Jaskier knew our history so I wasn't too worried if he was paying attention or not. 

“He came here from Termieria with his 6 younger brothers. The mines here had been closed for many many years. The town was completely deserted. There was a serious necrophage problem that no one wanted to deal with, so they just up and left. Leaving the plentiful mines full for someone else.” 

“Necrophages?” Geralt questioned his eyebrow tiling in curiosity. 

“The people who inhabited the lands before we did, had not known of the creatures. Didn’t properly bury the dead. My grandfather wrote in his journal that when they got here the streets were lined with bodies that had been drug out of their shallow graves, crypts had been broken into. His best guess is that a flue came before the people fled, killing many in a short period.” I started walking ahead of the two men, down the hall towards my room. I pushed the door open walking in placing my books on the night table as they followed in slowly behind me. Their eyes wandered over every inch. Jaskier started wandering through the room looking at every picture on the wall. Most of them were sketches, mostly of him. Or the people he sang about in his ballads. He grabbed one off the wall and laughed softly. 

“Who is this supposed to be?” I walked over to him and laughed softly, my cheeks turning a soft shade of pink. 

“That, that uh was my first sketch of Geralt.” The sound of his name got his attention, he was trying to be polite and not snoop. Although I didn't care if he wanted to look around. He walked away from the door over to Jaskier and me. He lingered behind me, very close behind me. I could feel his body heat on my back and his warm breath on my face as he peered over my shoulder at the parchment Jaskier was holding. 

“How old were you when you did this?” Jaskier asked.

“Eighteen, maybe nineteen. It was after your first balled about your adventures with Geralt that started to spread like wildfire. I went to a tavern one night with a friend and someone was singing it. I was intrigued by the song and asked them who they sang about. I was told they didn't write the song, our very own Prince had. So I listened to them play it over and over.  I asked around the and so see if people knew what the famed witcher looked like. I got conflicting answers from nearly everyone I asked.” Geralt reached his arm over me, his hand gently brushing my arm, sending chills down my spine. His hand grasped the paper as he looked at it closely.           

“They got the hair color right. That was about all. Some people have some very wild depictions that I drew, but none in any seriousness.” The particular one they were examining was nothing like Geralt. They got everything wrong but his hair color. Many people said he was a scrawny young lad with the strength of thousands of men, making him easier to blend in with the crowds. Granted this was very early on in my brother and the Witcher’s adventures together so not many people had paid close attention to the witcher. 

“You drew what people described?” Geralt asked. 

“Yes, some people tried to pay me but I told them to give it to the needy. I traveled with Serena for a couple of weeks right after I turned nineteen, we didn't venture far past the mountains but it was enough.” I couldn't help but frown at the memories of the people in the towns scowling and sticking their noses in the air when I asked about the Witcher and my brother. 

“Can I see the other ones?” Geralt’s question took me by surprise. 

“I don’t know…” 

“Oh come on, you're very talented (Y/N), let him see them,” Jaskier said and shoved my shoulder playfully. I smiled softly at him but shook my head. 

“It is not that I’m self-conscious of my work, it’s the depictions of Geralt outside of our Kingdom, for the most part, were cruel and inaccurate beyond belief. I only drew them because I was wasting their time asking questions. I honestly don't know why I kept them.” I nervously rubbed the back of my neck, the idea of Geralt seeing those ugly, horrendous, depictions of himself made my stomach turn. He didn’t deserve the hate he received. I never understood why people despised Witchers the way they did. I only experienced it outside of our kingdom. For some reason, whether it be our pure lack of monsters or the abundance of sunshine, my people seemed happier. Less judgmental than the outside world. I was grateful to live in such a kind and caring place, but it does get rather dull after a while. 

“I’d still like to see them.” Geralt said softly as he handed the parchment back to me. I sighed slightly uncomfortable with the idea, I took the parchment and hung it back up on the wall. 

“Let’s make a deal,” I said turning to them both. 

“Oh boy.” Jaskier teased. 

“I’ll show you the drawings if you let me paint you now, so I have an accurate model. Not just words.” Geralt’s eyes looked over me, his arms crossing over his chest. A small smirk formed over his lips as he watched me intently. 

“If you want to draw me so bad, just ask dove.” The nickname nearly threw me off my feet. My heartbeat quickened at a rapid pace and I couldn't even look him in the eye. Jaskier snickered and pulled out a chair by my desk. He was enjoying this way too much. I cleared my throat swelling thickly. 

“T-that I uh..” I had never been one to not have words. According to my parents, I talked too much. Just like my brother. Yet here I was gobsmacked and wordless. I grumbled under my breath moving to the desk Jaskier was sat at and made him move. He got up and I sat down. I opened the top hatch of the desk, lifting out folders and files of archives. Some containing spells, some more drawing, history of the continent, and even monster facts that I knew I wouldn’t ever need. I placed the folders on the floor. Jaskier grabbed a few and moved to my bed plopping himself down kicking his feet up. My head snapped over to him as he put his dirty boots all over my fresh linens. 

“Jaskier. If you don't get your boots off my bed, I will castrate you.” I warned turning back around rummaging some more. I heard him kick off his shoes. Geralt chuckled behind me. 

“Fiery are we.” He teased but I ignored him. Finally, at the bottom of all my work, I found the folder. I held it up to him, not wanting to watch his face as he looked at the disgusting depictions of himself. 

“Thank you, dove.” His lip was right next to my ear. I felt frozen. 

I couldn't tell if it was genuinely just a flirt or if this was directed to me. Sure I had heard the rumors of the witcher and his many women of the night, including the sorceress Yennefer. But this seemed different. I snapped back to reality when he let out a low chuckle. I turned around and stood up, peering over his arm to see what one he was looking at. This one was particularly nasty. His eyes were slanted like snake eyes, large fangs protruded out of his mouth, and his hair was a crazy mess. His eyes were blood red, his nose crooked from supposedly being punched so many times. His face was littered with so many scars he had scale-like skin. I remembered the man who gave me that description. 

“I met this man in a tavern in Solveiga, it’s the furthest I've ever been from home.” Jaskier stood up walking over and looking at the drawing Geralt was studying carefully. I didn't know why he was spending so much time on such a cruel piece. 

“He said you came through a few winters prior, he and a bunch of the townsmen had gathered some coins so you'd get rid of a Striga. I knew was lying the moment he opened his mouth.” Geralt looked up from the payment, his eyes meeting mine.

“Why do you think he's lying?” I took the folder from him, and just as I expected the parchment below the picture he was looking at was full of my notes. Every time I traveled and spoke to people about it. My brother or his companions took incredibly detailed notes, I never wanted to forget anything. I took the parchment out before handing him the folder back. I began to read the notes:

“This man takes me for a fool. No more than some silly girl. While he sits here and tells the tale of the Wolf he seems to be forgetting the incredibly important fact about Strigas, they only hunt during a full moon. He keeps saying that the beast was hunting their people every single night, slashing children, men, women, animals, every night for months. He’s using it to fuel the people's hatred of the witcher. He’s attempting to claim that they sent for him as soon as they knew of her presence. Claiming the witcher waited nearly three months before coming to discard the beast.” I flipped the page over scanning the meticulous notes. 

“He said the beast was killed on a new moon, he said he remembers it so vividly because of the lack of moonlight while he escorted the witcher to her crypt. I may not be a witcher, but I am not stupid. The man is trying to make matters worse by lying through his crooked yellow teeth. How dare he tarnish a name for the sake of his prosperity.” Geralt chuckled at the last part making me look up at him, he had an amused smile on his face, his eyes twinkled as he looked at me. 

“Why are you laughing?” I tilted my head to the side slightly and he just shook his head, putting the folder of parchment into the desk. He knelt and began picking up the rest of the folders neatly placing them inside the desk where they came from. 

“Because you got so mad that someone lied about me, yet you at the time were not even sure I was a real thing-“ 

“Person.” I quickly corrected him. His eyes glanced at me, he didn't move his head as he continued placing my papers where they belonged. 

“What?” He asked. 

“You called yourself a thing, you're not a thing Geralt. You're a real living breathing person.” His eyes found my own again. My heart raced as he studied my eyes. I had never seen anything so beautiful. His eyes were like hot pools of gold and honey. The complexity of the colors was mesmerizing.

“And I wasn't only mad that he was lying about you, I was mad that he was lying in general. About something anyone could disprove if they just picked up a book on monsters.” I noticed the parchment with the drawing he was just looking at was on my bed. I grabbed it to put it back on the desk. Geralt's strong hand gently grasped my wrist stopping me. His other hand gently grabbed the parchment from my hand. 

“I’d like to keep this one if you don't mind.” I looked at him shocked.

“Why that one?? Of all the ones I've done you choose one of the most inaccurate and the crudest?” It made no sense to me. Why did he want that? Was it some fun game of his to think he was just some stupid monster? 

“Because it shows your talent in a way the others don't. And besides, you got my nose perfectly. No one can do that.” I sighed heavily not liking the idea of him possessing such a cured drawing that was drawn purely on lies. 

“Fine. Keep it.” He smiled vicariously. I’d let him keep every single one if he smiled like that all the time. The smile quickly vanished when Jaskier came back over with the first file he took. The one he had been studying was full of my notes on herbology and alchemy. 

“You are incredibly smart (Y/N), I felt as though I was reading Yennefer’s notes.” A huge smile spread across my face at his compliment. 

“Thank you, Jax.” Geralt was now walking around my room, hands tucked under his arms as he studied the drawing and notes hanging on the walls. Some drawings were of monsters, some of the random people I’d met on my short travels, some maps I’d drawn up so I’d remember where I wanted to go when I had the chance. 

“Your talent is very wide-ranging, little dove. I have to say I’m very impressed with your knowledge.” That blasted nickname nearly kicked me off my feet again. 

I looked out my window noticing the sun was getting lower in the sky.

“If you'd like to get new clothes I’d suggest we do it now, it’ll be dark soon and the shops close earlier in the week.” Gertrude turned to me, nodding his head. 

“Please. These pants are so tight I’m afraid I may lose my legs.” 

We walked down the street. The sun was close to setting in the sky. The cool air kissed my bare chest as we walked. It was a comfortable silence between the three of us. For the first time in my life, I felt comfortable in silence. I hated the quiet with most people, it left room for negative thoughts, negative energies. Most times when it was unbearably quiet when I was present was because I was shut down from talking by the people around me. I know they meant no harm, I knew I had a lot to handle at times. I was just lonely. Board. I only had a few true friends. Most of the people I grew up with were married and with children now. I spent a lot of time alone, I liked being alone. It gave me space to think about the world. The world outside my small one. 

We approached the seamstress, walking through the wood door. A small bell rang in as we entered. Hildi walked out from the back, a bright smile on her face. She was a sweet older woman, not much older than my mum. She had been running this shop for as long as I could remember. She was the best seamstress in the country in my opinion. 

“Princess (Y/N)!! What a lovely surprise!” She walked around the counter and hugged me softly. Her hands-on the sweater I was in. She made it for me many years back for a birthday gift. She always had the best gifts. Full of love. I did adore the woman. Her attention turned to the men next to me. Her eyes grew bigger, her hand gently coming up to her chest. 

“My gods. The rumors were true. Jaskier!! How wonderful it is to see you again!!” Her hands wrapped around my brother who hugged her back. I couldn't tell if he remembered her or if he was just being nice. As she released him she looked at Geralt who was visibly tense, scared that she may try and hug him. 

“You must be Geralt of Rivia!” He nodded. 

“Rain!! Get out here!! And bring me my Witcher’s guide!!” Geralt's eyebrows furrowed at the mention of the book. He shot me a glance and I just smiled. A few moments later Hildi’s daughter Rain appeared. She was my age. We knew each other in school. She was never nice to me. Picked on me. Would make jokes about Jaskier not being around. I never told anyone, in fear people would think I was nothing but a stuck up princess. Her presence made me uneasy. I slowly took a small step back, inching closer to my brother. Rain’s eyes landed on Geralt. I could practically see the drool pooling in her mouth. 

“Gods save me.” She moaned out. I had to fight off the urge to cringe at her outward burst. 

“The tales are true then?” She looked directly at me. 

“So maybe you weren’t lying all these years.” I scoffed and rolled my eyes. 

Hildi was very blind to her daughter's cruelness. After her husband passed away it was just her and Rain. She’d do anything for her. I understood that. She was a devoted mother and wife. I knew how heartbroken she was. She walked to Rain and took the book from her hand and grabbed a quill that had been dipped in ink. She turned to Geralt, a very soft smile on her face. 

“Would you sign this for me?” His eyes bulged out of his head. 

“Y-you want me to sight your book?” I held back a giggle at his shock. He truly wasn't used to being appreciated. 

“Yes, please. If it is not too much to ask. Your stories were what got me through my husband’s death. Had it not been for the ballads and tales of your great bravery I may have not made it through.” Geralt’s shoulders softened at her words. He nodded his head and walked over to the counter. She opened the book to the first page and he scribbled down his name before giving her a soft smile. She gently placed her hand on his arm and squeezed. 

“You are truly a great hero here Geralt. If our country had a mascot, you'd be it.” Jaskier chucked lowly at her comment making me swat the back of his he’d. He hissed in pain and looked at me. I glared at him. 

“Do not ruin this for him,” I whispered. 

Hildi turned her attention back to me and smiled. 

“What can I do for you today my dear?”

“Well as you can see, Jaskier has a sore taste in fashion and also doesn’t understand sizing. I was hoping you could fit them in some better, more comfortable garments. Maybe a set of nice clothes for my party as well?” She gleamed. She hurried around her counter, grabbing a piece of parchment and measuring tape. She came back around and wasted no time in messing the two men. I sat down at a table by the window and watched as she rummaged through somethings in the back of her store. 

“So you're like a real witcher?” Rain’s voice caught my attention. She was leaning over the counter, her dress pulled down, the cleavage of her breasts on clear display as she dumbly curled her blond hair in her fingers. 

“No. I'm a fake one.” Geralt said back unamused. 

“But like are the rumors true?” She asked leaning even further over the counter. She was trying so desperately hard to get him to look down her dress. But he was simply uninterested. I felt my heartburn with envy. I hated that it did. He wasn't mine, he was nowhere near it. But the thought of him looking at her like that made my blood boil. 

“Rumors about what?” He took a step back from the counter slowly making his way over to where Jaskier and I were. 

“Ya know. About your huge cock.” Jaskier and I both choked on our spit. My hand flew over my mouth to keep my laugh in. It was a good thing her mother’s hearing wasn't all that great. Geralt looked visibly uncomfortable. He sat down in the chair next to me, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. Jaskier and I were both trying to get ourselves under control after her question. She was completely unfazed. She thought she was hot shit. 

“Common witcher. Tear me apart. Show me the real monster you can be.” That sentence made my grip on the chair so tight I thought I could’ve broken the arm in half. I probably could have if I did not have any self-control. I’m much stronger than I look.

“Do not call him that.” I hissed. My teeth were clenched so hard I was sure I was breaking them. Her eyes flicked over to me. She looked me up and down trying to size me up. 

“Call him what? A witcher. Honey are you dumb. That’s what he is.” In a second I was inches from her face. I could feel my blood pumping thru my veins. 

“Do not ever call him a monster again.” I was a bit shocked at how mean I sounded. I had never been this angry with her before. I wanted to punch her stupid smile in more than anything. 

“(Y/N)..” I heard Jaskier’s voice behind me. He was very close to me. My hands were balled in fists at my sides. My knuckles were turning white with how angry I was. 

“I promise you, studying princess, he's been called worse.” She smiled cheekily at me and her hand came up and she attempted to pat my face like I was a dog. My reflexes were much faster than she realizes. I grabbed ahold of her wrist in an intron grip. I began to squeeze and bend her wrist back away from my face. Her face contorted in pain. She wasn't expecting me to be as strong as I was. 

“I said-'' I squeezed harder, and she gasped slightly as she tried to pull her hand away. “Do not call him that.” I threw her hand away from me before turning around and walking by the window. I hadn't realized both Jaskier and Geralt were standing behind me. 

Moments later Hildi came out completely oblivious to the scene that just took place. She had a cloth sack filled with clothes and placed them on the counter. 

“Alright, dearly that’ll be 45 coins.” She said as she wrote down the total in her book. I stood quickly pulling the amount from my coin purse and putting it in her hand. I smiled at her as best I could, Jaskier grabbed the bag of clothes. 

“If something doesn’t go right, bring them back.” 

“Thank you Hildi, very much.” Geralt said a charming smile on his lip. He gently shook her hand kissing the top of it. 

“Thank you, Geralt. It was a pleasure meeting you. Don’t be a stranger.” She patted his cheek as a mum does. I turned on my heels and walked out of the shop. The cold air hit my hot face. My blood pumped slow and hard through my veins as the anger disappeared from my body. Jaskier came out of the shop and threw his arm over my shoulders leaning into me. 

“Thank you.” He whispered lowly, Great not being very far behind us as we walked to the castle. 

“For?” 

“Defending him. Many people don’t realize how much he’s heard throughout his lifetime. I’m glad I’m not the only one who wants to help.” I turned to him and smiled. I leaned into his side hugging him gently before, turning around walking backward as I looked at Geralt. 

“If you would like, I’ll show you both to your rooms, and you can change. We can then have tea in the garden and I can draw you.” A soft smile graced his lips, his eyebrow rising softly. 

“You seriously want to draw me?” I nodded my head and stopped walking, but he didn’t. He kept getting closer and closer till he was a few inches from me. 

“Yes, Geralt I do. You have a special spot in my heart, not just because I believe you are a true knight. And many people are just too scared to admit that, but also for keeping my brother safe all these years. You deserve to feel appreciated.” His features softened as his eyes searched my face before settling on my own eyes. His hand gently came up and he moved a small piece of hair from my face. 

“A deal is a deal, little dove.” I felt as though my soul was being sucked out through his hand. Every fiber in my body wanted to pull him closer to me, to show him love, and tenderness. Something I knew he never actually had. 

“Good, follow me,” I said with a smile.

After I showed them to their rooms; my brother’s old room not far from my own, and Geralt’s which shared a wall with my room, I went down to the garden. My easel, charcoals, and paints were set up on the table as they came down from changing and freshening up. Geralt looked more beautiful in clothes he could breathe in. his attire was so simple yet he made it look like the finest silks and jewels. It was a soft cotton button-down, it was loos on him, his pants were tight, but in a way that allowed him to move and feel free. I could tell by the way he walked he felt much more comfortable and in his element.   

“You look like you feel better,” I said with a smile. Even Jaskier changed. A white shirt. And some black pants. He looked as he always did when I was a kid. The obscene choices in fashion were only adopted after he left home. 

“I do.” I plainly said, a small smile on his lips. He and Jaskier sat down and I poured them tea. They both snacked on a few fruit tarts while I began sketching the background of the garden. allowing them to eat and not have to sit still just yet. 

“So...while I draw maybe you could both share a story?” I glanced behind my paper and looked at the two. Jaskier smiled and leaned back into his chair fixing his hair and popping open a few buttons for the portrait. 

“What story do you want to hear?” Geralt asked. Leaning back, his shoulders relaxing, a small piece of hair fell from the bit that he had tied back. It looked deliciously messy. It made him look disheveled, nearly like he was right out of bed. 

“Wait!” I yelled and grabbed his hand gently, pulling his hand back softly. 

“I like it. Keep it.” his hand went back down to his leg to rest. His eyes watched me for a few minutes. I studied their faces beginning my base sketches. 

“What story shall we tell her Geralt?” Jaskier asked as he closed his eyes and tilted his head back to the sky, the last of the light kissing his skin. 

“We could tell her about the Djinn?” Geralt said back, glancing at Jaskier before looking back at me, a coy smile on his face. 

“A Djinn?? I’ve only ever read myths about them. You encountered one?” My curiosity was blossoming, the urge to get more details about the creatures I had been taught about.

“Geralt here was going onto day gods knows what on no sleep. He was beyond grumpy.” Jaskier tilted his head back up and looked at me with a smirk. 

“The git said my singing was like a pie with no filling!!” I couldn’t hold back my laugh. It was much louder than I wanted, not very ladylike at all. 

“Oh… I may have to steal that one.” I said in between giggles, whipping my eyes. 

“I was hoping to use a wish from the Djinn to help me sleep. But unfortunately, your brother got in the way.” As Geralt spoke I moved into his details on his face, my eyes traveling all over his beautiful face. From the way, his brows arched to the cute little dimple on his chin. His face was beautiful. Some scares were prominent enough that I could see them if I looked hard enough he had one on his cheek, it looked newer than all the others, the skin being a bit lighter than the rest of his skin. 

“What did he do this time?”

“He decided that because I told him I no longer appreciated his singing that he would take the Djinn away from me till I took back what I said.”

“And let me guess, you didn’t take it back?” I glanced at him from behind my easel, he was watching me closely, his eyes slanted like he was studying a pray. 

“No. No, he didn’t. And I almost died!” Jaskier shouted dramatically causing my eyes to drift from Geralt over to him. 

“Don’t be dramatic Jaskier,” I mumbled, putting down the charcoal I had been using. Now turning my attention to the paints I had in front of me. I started mixing the colors Id need for Geralt’s skin tone. 

“No, this time he’s right. He did almost die. Unfortunately for Jaskier, he refused to let go of the vase the Djinn was in. While we tugged on it, the lid came off. Maybe the Djinn knew I was a witcher and its curse wouldn’t work on me, or maybe it was just annoyed at Jaskier. Either way, it attacked him.” My eyes were focused on the painting, brows furrowed as he spoke. I waited a moment for him to continue but he didn’t. 

“I’m listing Geralt, please continue,” I said my eyes moving to his, the colores pooling in my head as I prepared for what pigments id be using to paint them. 

“I don’t want to interrupt.” I shook my head a soft smile on my face. 

“I will,” Jaskier said as he sipped his tea, looking at me. 

“The Djinn attacked my throat. Made it swell, I was coughing up blood.” My painting stopped as I looked at him. My stomach sank a little as he spoke. I knew Jaskier had been put in harm’s way before but hearing the first-hand accounts made my stomach ache. 

“Geralt took me to an elven healer that wasn’t too far from where the river bed was. Unfortunately for me, he couldn’t help me. But he knew of a mage that could help.” My hand started to paint again, filling in the sketch with colors on Jaskier’s face as he spoke. 

“We can skip over those details Jaskier.” Geralt huffed crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Why? Don’t want my baby sister knowing that we had to sit threw an entier orgey just for you to speak to the mage?” Jaskier snickered looking away from me to his friend, 

“Jaskier, shut up.” Geralt grumbled. His eyes avoided my own when I went to look at him. 

“An orgey?” I had heard the word but hadn’t ever fully understood what it was. 

“What’s that?” I questioned looking at my brother. His head fell back as he cackled. 

“Oh dear sister how you’ve been so sheltered from the world.” My cheeks flushed red at his words. 

“Jaskier don’t be rude,” I mumbled grabbing a fine liner brush from my pile. Adding some final detail into Jaskier’s blue eyes. 

“It’s when a very large group of people get together in one room and have sex.” The blood rushed to my head at his words. I could feel my ears turning red. My brother was right. I had been sheltered about sex in my family. I didn’t have friends who I could talk to it about, and never really had anyone in my life I was willing to have sex with. 

Unlike many women my age I never viewed my virginity like a sacred rose that no one could touch, I just wanted it to be lost to someone who deserved it. No someone I was forced to allow to deserve it. 

“Oh look at how red she is.” Jaskier snickered standing up and poking my sides. I smacked his hands away glaring at him. He was now able to see the nearly completed painting. All I had left was my Geralt’s eyes and some details in his hair. 

“Gods (Y/N), this is amazing.” He whispered his hand on my shoulder. I smiled softly, swallowing the spit that had gathered in my throat thickly. 

“Thank you, please sit down and continue your story.” Jaskier did as I asked. 

“The mage was Yennefer. She helped me. Saved my life. The mage and I may not get along, but I do owe her my life.” I smiled softly as he spoke of the mage I had heard so much about. 

“I’ll be sure to thank her myself if I ever come across her,” I said with a smile. My attention turned back to Geralt who didn’t look please at the topic of our conversation. His eyes were on his leg that bounced slightly. He was anxious. 

“Geralt love, I cannot see your eyes. That’s nearly all I have left.” At the sound of my voice, his head tilted up so he could look at me in the eye. 

I smiled sweetly at him. I broke eye contact as I added in the different hues of orange and a bit of red. Some gold flecks showed themselves in his inner iris. The depth of the color was so enchanting. I could paint just his eyes forever. I finished with his hair after a few minutes of silence. Both men just enjoying the warm afternoon air. They both looked relaxed, peaceful, safe even.    

“I’ve finished, boys,” I said whipping my hands on my apron. I stood up and turned the easel around to the two. They both sat up straight, eyes wandering all over the painting. 

“You, my dear sister are beyond talented.” Jaskier mused looking at me, a bright smile on his face. 

“We both are.” I smiled at him. Geralt was still examining the painting, his eyes flicking over every inch of himself. I couldn’t tell if he was pleased or not. It made me nervous.

“I know the hair isn’t perfect. I’m still trying to get the brush technique down-”

“It is perfect.” Geralt interrupted me, a smile on his face as he looked at me. 

I smiled back at him, my heart beating a little quicker. 

“Can I keep it?” Geralt asked. 

“Seriously?” I asked him. 

“Well, actually it’s probably best you keep it. I don’t have a home, so I wouldn’t want to ruin it…” I smiled softly, taking a step closer to him. 

“I’ll keep it safe but if you ever have a place that you want to keep it, ill get it to you,” I said, softly stroking the stray strand of hair behind his ear. His face tilted up as he looked at me. 

“I think I’m going to turn in for the night boys,” I said gathering my items in my hands. 

“What about dinner?” Jaskier asked. 

“I’ll grab something from the kitchen, I’m quite tired. I need a bath. I’ll see you both in the morning.” I said hugging Jaskier goodnight. I turned to Geralt, courage surging through my veins. I bent down and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. 

“Goodnight Geralt.” His cheeks turned a very, very soft shade of pink, but only for a moment. Our eyes locked again. 

“Good night, dove.”  

[morganayenneferburnham]

Have I Known You 20 Seconds or 20 Years? – Nikolai Lantsov Series

Chapter 1: Devils Roll the Dice, Angel Roll their Eyes

Chapter 2: You Did a Number on Me

Chapter 3: You Could Call Me Babe for the Weekend

A very short summary: Y/N has been working with the crows for a few years. Her life feels complete until she meets the insufferable Nikolai Lantsov. She finds herself forced to work with the King of Ravka on one of Kaz Brekker’s crazy schemes.

Word count: 2k

A/N: Finally starting to get somewhere!! I just started writing chapter 4, so it might take a bit longer before I upload again. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter in the meanwhile.

Thank you for reading! Just send me an ask if you want to be added to my taglist :) 

Chapter 3: You Could Call Me Babe for the Weekend

The next morning went by in a blur. They had moved everything to Wylan’s house on Geldstraat. Kaz was right. It would’ve been too suspicious if they had left for the party from the barrel. Questions about the job were being thrown from one person to the next. Various answers about cues and schedules flying in every direction.

“Wait, what time are we supposed to get to the party again?”

“Quarter after 6 bells, Jesper!” Yelled Wylan running by with an armful of party clothes.

“Nikolai and I are getting there at 6 bells. That way it won’t look like we know each other.” Y/N had been heading off in the opposing direction.

“Wylan! You forgot your jacket in the music room” Kaz’s raspy voice was easily recognizable above the others.

“I’ll go ahead and scout for the best location for you to hide to summon the storm. I’ll come get you at a quarter to 8 bells.”

Nikolai had to admire the crows’ ability to understand each other and get the job done in such chaos. They were running back and forth in every direction trying to get everything ready. Even Zoya seemed at ease discussing the plan with Inej. He needed this job to succeed. He needed to guarantee his country’s future. Once he was done dealing with this newest threat from Fjerda…? He’d like to work with the crows again. He felt much freer. Maybe it could become a side hustle for him and Zoya. It would give them a nice break from ruling a country.

He felt a soft hand rest on his arm. “Hey, we should probably go get ready for the party. We’ll meet here at 5 bells? That way we can go over last-minute details and head over.” She was smiling up at him. Her smile was soft as if she could tell he was anxious. He let his eyes trail over her tailored face and couldn’t help but miss her true features once more.

“Sounds good. I’ll see you then, my darling.” He pressed a quick kiss to her knuckles and watched her disappear up the vast staircase.

---

Nikolai made his way to the room Wylan had so graciously offered him that morning. It was not his room at the Grand Palace, but it was much nicer than the one he’d had at the slat. He took his time putting on the rich merch’s clothes Kaz had picked out for him. He was still in awe of the work Y/N had done on him. The young king found himself unavoidably staring at himself in the mirror mounted to his wall. He finished buttoning up his shirt and folded his suit jacket on his arm. It was almost 5 bells. He knew he should make his way back to the mansion’s parlor.

Nikolai had barely sat in one of the large armchairs when an appreciative whistle sounded on his left. He followed Jesper’s gaze to the stairs. Y/N’s dress accentuated her new body in all the right places. Nikolai couldn’t help but think it would’ve suited her even better before the tailoring.

“No one warned me I’d have to fight off every man who lays eyes on my wife.” He complained.

He watched as Inej and Zoya approached Y/N. The women shared a few whispered comments before they lead Y/N to him. He could’ve sworn he saw the girl’s cheeks turn red. He had to put up a lot more effort than he was used to in schooling his own features. The way the dress moved along to the sway of her hips, with every step she took, made his brain go blank. He imagined the way it would’ve been even more sensual with her natural curves. Maybe he could convince her to wear the gown again once she’d tailored them both back to normal. His mind was racing with images of her, twirling in his arms, wearing that damned dress.

“Anything you want to go over before we get going?” She was looking at him expectantly, her eyes bright, her tailored lips stretched in a small smile.

His mouth felt dry. All eyes were on him. He had to fight to kick start his brain again. “Nope, I think we’re ready.” He offered her a hand, his natural charm coming back to him. “Shall we, my darling wife?”

She took his hand and they headed for the door leading to the elegant boathouse. “No mourners” she called over her shoulder.

A unified “No funerals” rang out behind them. Nikolai made a mental note to ask them what the saying meant, at some point, when he wasn’t so distracted by the beautiful Grisha on his arm.

---

They’d taken a small, polished boat to make their way to councilman Van Verent’s house. It had only taken a few minutes for them to reach the sophisticated boathouse on the councilman’s property. A Stadwatch officer had taken their invitation before guiding them to the stylishly decorated mansion. Flowers from every guest’s country were arranged in beautiful crystal vases matching the colourful silk ribbons adorning the banister. As they entered the main hall, they were stunned by the sheer number of guests already in attendance. The main floor was filled with dignitaries from Kerch, Novyi Zem, Shu Han, Fjerda, and the Wandering Isle. Nikolai noticed the absence of anyone representing his country. Good, he thought, it’ll make the job easier.

To his dismay, Y/N was already catching the eye of a few men standing off to the sides of the room. He wrapped his arm tightly around her waist, pulling her closer, sending the interested parties a nasty look. He felt her breath hitch but didn’t release his hold on her body. She was his wife. Anyone who wanted to get to her would have to go through him. Nikolai was surprised by the jealousy he felt. He was usually in control of his feelings, always choosing to be pragmatic rather than emotional. He knew they had to put on a convincing act. He still wasn’t supposed to be this possessive of a girl he’d only met a few days ago, right? All the Saints and their mothers, Zoya will murder me if she finds out about this.

Y/N had maneuvered them towards a group of Zemeni dignitaries, quickly engaging in easy conversation with one of the wives. Nikolai used the opportunity to present their made-up business proposal to a few interested parties, promising to send them more information as soon as they went back home to the Wandering Isle.

They navigated group after group of foreign and domestic dignitaries for about an hour. He had to admit Kaz had done a wonderful job when creating their false identities, but he was tired of the constant mindless chattering. How lucky, he thought, the dance floor seems very appealing right about now.

He leaned in close, letting his lips brush against Y/N’s ear, interrupting her conversation. “You are doing a fantastic job, my love.” He felt her shiver against him. “I’m sure we’ll have plenty of business partners once you’re done here. Now, however, I would very much like to dance with my beautiful wife.” She looked at him, surprise evident in her deep brown eyes. Nikolai smirked; he could get used to this. He offered her a hand before guiding her swiftly to the dance floor.

He felt men staring, once again, at ‘his wife’ as they graciously made their way to the middle of the floor. The small orchestra started playing a beautiful soft song, perfect for a romantic moment between lovers. Nikolai rested his right hand on the small of Y/N’s back, pulling her close, keeping her hand tightly in his own. He felt her free hand gently come to rest on his shoulder. His heart beating more quickly than he would’ve liked. Why am I so nervous? She was gazing up at him, a gentle smile gracing her lips. He swallowed hard. Nikolai had never felt more grateful for the dance lessons he’d taken as a child. He’d only done it to please his mother. He had to admit he was glad they were paying off now. To anyone watching them, they simply looked like newlyweds, madly in love, eager to share a dance.

They turned elegantly, in time with the slow music, their bodies completely in sync. Their breathing even, their steps well-balanced. The deep green skirts of her dress following every graceful movement they made. She followed his lead perfectly as if they’d been partners for years. She seemed to trust him completely, showing him how safe she felt in his arms. Time slowed for a moment. Nikolai found himself forgetting all about the job, about the plans they had to steal, even about his country. He wanted to stay in this moment, holding the talented Grisha against him, forever.

The sound of applause brought him out of his reverie. He took in their surroundings. Y/N looked as surprised as he felt. Her eyes wide, cheeks flushed. He had no idea how long they had been dancing, how many songs had been played. It dawned on him that they were the cause of the applause. People had stopped dancing and talking to watch the young couple, completely lost in each other, moving elegantly across the floor. He saw Jesper and Wylan, wide grins plastered on their faces, in the far corner of the room. They looked way too pleased. Saints, I hope they won’t tell Brekker about this.

He bowed, Y/N following his lead once again, before walking off the dance floor, towards the grand staircase. They had to stop drawing so much attention to themselves. He wished he could have a moment to talk to Y/N, alone, away from the prying eyes of the crowd. She was playing her role to perfection, all smiles, as couples complimented them on their dancing for the next few minutes.

The ornate wall-mounted clock chimed. Zoya, Wylan, and Jesper would create the distraction in 15 minutes. Wylan subtly nodded to him, indicating he had already placed the small incendiary charge in the dining room. He had developed this newest marvel by studying and modifying one of David Kostyk’s discoveries. It seemed the boy truly was a genius. Jesper would detonate the charge at 8 bells, the sound of his shot covered by the storm Zoya would summon. The fire would require all-hands-on-deck to be put out, leaving the office unguarded. If everything went according to Kaz’s plan, it would give him and Y/N about 30 minutes to pick the lock of Van Verent’s office, crack the safe and make their way back to the party with the blueprints safely tucked in the sheath hidden beneath Y/N’s dress.

They came to a halt in the shadow of the staircase, ready to spring to action at their cue. Nikolai made sure to pull Y/N close, slipping an arm around her waist.

“I didn’t know you were such a good dancer, my love.” He murmured. Better keep up the act. She makes it easy, though. I don’t even have to lie.

She laughed softly and turned in his arms, snaking her own arm around his neck, pressing her lips quickly against his cheek. “Thank you, darling. I am full of hidden talents, you know...” the raise of her eyebrow and her tone so suggestive Nikolai had to fight to keep a straight face. She’s only doing her job. She’s supposed to be my wife. It’s only normal that a young wife should flirt with her delightfully handsome husband. He was trying to convince himself but the playful look in her eyes told him otherwise. She spun around once more, keeping his hand on her waist, leaving him to observe the guests enjoying the party.

The clock chimed once more. 8 bells. Thunder boomed outside, rain battering the windows. A high-pitched scream sounded to his right, coming from the dining room. Other screams quickly followed. Guests ran past them, fleeing the room. Guards came rushing down the stairs, towards the fire. It was complete chaos. Nikolai found himself impressed, once again, by how brilliant the crows were. Maybe I could convince Kaz to help me plan my next military campaign? Or get Wylan to come work with David. I should at least sail with the Wraith and her crew.

Y/N’s fingers closed around his wrist. “That’s our cue.” She said with a sly grin on her lips.

---

Taglist: @power-of-words23

[shtern-and-art]

"Skeppy will probably cry" "Bad will probably cry". Bish, screw, that I am crying!!!

This whole thing was bloody gorgeous and I wasn't expecting that ending. I had no clue what ending to expect but that was definitely better than any I could have hoped for. Forest spirit to soulmate your honour!

I was terrified that you were gonna leave it at the point where he loses the spirit and becomes mortal again. If you had I would be actively sobbing!!!! And oh my god, the art!!! I still can't get over how wonderful your style is.

Imma ask fun things because if I don't I'll sit in a puddle of emotion all night:

What's the first tech thing Bad will buy and how annoying will he be about it? Poor Skeppy trying to answer 101 questions about something he doesn't really use XD.

Is no one concerned that the odd couple from a town they never name has a pet wolf??

Do they immediately go over to a different town or do they wander for a while. Find hidden creeks and befriend bears?

Does Bad still have a connection to nature and animals, like are creatures naturally more trusting of him?

Do they ever visit the og town again?

Does Skeppy still cause absolute chaos in other towns or has he learnt his lesson and only causes minor trouble now?

Does Bad ever try and study again? If he did what would he study and would Skeppy try to study as well?

Does Skeppy steal? I dunno, he just give off the vibe of a naughty lil trickster who'll pocket something if the owner refuses to sell it him.

Immediately after leaving the forest what the first 'argument' they have (not including the car one)?

Would they ever ride horse? If yes, how terrified would Skeppy be?

Skeppy falls outta tree. I don't know why but my mind keeps telling me that this man has great balance until he climbs trees. They are his mortal enemy and Bad finds this both hilarious and terrifying because he is going to hurt himself.

I had waaaaay more questions than I intended to have. My bad '^_^ but this story was way too much fun to read and you are entirely to blame for making it so engaging!

Make sure to take care of yourself and do stretches after and during drawing. You don't wanna hurt yourself <3

AaaaI’m so glad you liked it! :D And, dang, man, I cried while writing that part too :D

And I promised a nice ending for the main story, I did, and this one also makes the most sense narratively! For the story I wanted to tell, at least. Bad can’t really become human again, he’s changed to much. He can only move on, and do something with what he is, and has. And he did! :D That’s really nice and inspiring, this story will always have a place in my heart, heheh <3

Being a guardian spirit connected to a person and all, Bad may be not as strong as before, but he can’t die unless Skeppy dies first. And Skeppy can do that, but he’s pretty sturdy, and his lifespan operates on a whole other scale than human ones. And Bad knowing Skeppy’s real name balances it all out, makes them equal in the power and influence they have over each other.

So hellyeah, soulmates for the win :DDD

I’ll answer all questions under the cut, and this close up from one of the pages!

1) What's the first tech thing Bad will buy and how annoying will he be about it?

Probably a pager! Because it’s a more feasible thing to get than a wholeass computer Bad actually wanted :D An it means Skeppy will have to get one too, and that Bad will be having the time of his life texting him and everyone he can get a number from, even if they’re still in the room with him.

Poor Skeppy indeed, he can learn to appreciate the pagers, and later phones, too, and computers, but he really has 0 idea on how it all works and why Bad is so fascinated by it all.

2) Rat and regular people

Oh, she can shapeshift, just like Bad! If they’re out with people around, she takes form of a puppy, and Bad can pass her off as a weird mix breed rescue doggo.

3) Do they immediately go over to a different town or do they wander for a while?

Oh, since they have no end destination in mind, they can ride around for a bit, go visit some cool places and roadside attractions. Sadly, Skeppy is probably not spiritually or morally ready to full on befriend wild bears yet, and they do need money for gas and snacks. So, at some point they will have to stop somewhere and find work – at least for a bit, to save up. Life’s gonna be a bit complicated with all that, until Skeppy figures out his treasure-finding abilities :DD

4) Bad and nature and animals

He is definitely still in tune with all wildlife! Even more – Bad could become a proper guardian spirit for Skeppy in part because, in a way, Skeppy himself is part of the nature.

So yeah, Bad can understand animals (and plants) and communicate with them; they’re just more free to not take his shit, and Bad’s emotions do not “possess” them unless he makes an effort to do so.

He doesn’t like doing it, tho.

5) Do they ever visit the og town again?

Hm, I think they will completely forget about it for a while, until, like, 30+ years later they will be going somewhere, and find themselves around those parts. And they try to not appear too often in the areas they’ve spent a lot of time in already (they can be pretty recognizable, and also barely show signs of aging). But it’s been a long time, and the town’s really different now… So they make a stop, and spend a day there. They walk the unfamiliar streets between the new buildings, check out the popular hiking trail, the advertisements for hot springs and winter activities. The old cinema is still there, and is hosting an all-night marathon of classic horror movies of the last century.

Bad and Skeppy leave the town after sunset – the day was nice, but they have nothing more to do there. They ride through the forest on a well paved road, with radio playing something barely above the whisper. And in the dark of hot summer night, Bad can see the white stag running between the trees alongside their car. Shadows dance over the shimmering light of it’s fur.

Somewhere after the towns border, the stag disappears back in the forest. But the air in the car stays light and fresh, saving the smell of old pines and dry leaves all though the night.

6) Skeppy and chaos

Well, after the whole mess in the main story, Skeppy definitely learned some lessons, especially about not being a dick :D

But the thing is – he can’t really help the fact that things tend to stir up around him a lot. He naturally brings in chaos into everything, because he is, in part, a personification, or an outlet for it in the world. And so, to feel, well and good, and himself Skeppy gotta do stuff that disrupts balance, and creates some mayhem. And in gave him a lot of trouble in early life, but in the course of the main story he learned that he can chose were he lets that chaos to take hold, learned what can come of that chaos, apart from utter misery.

Like, where it can help dismantle something destructive, and where – bring in the more positive change, that was already brewing, possible, but is stagnant for some reason.

Soooo, I can’t say Skeppy causes only minor chaos in his life, but he sure learns even more about not being a dick :DDDD

7) The studying

I think Bad will want to get a higher education at some point, because he wanted to, and because it’s already new millennia and all that. Bet he’ll go for something very technical and/or literature. Maybe he’ll start by piking up some classes in small time colleges, when they stop in one place for a while, and later get into an online program, because why not.

Skeppy is not a college guy at all. He’ll listen to Bad talk about it, read textbooks if he wants to, can research stuff, buuut going to classes and doing homework is definitely not his thing.

8) Stealing

Well, you’re right, Skeppy can and will steal stuff out of spite! And will be scolded by Bad for it, and will not feel (that) sorry about it. But real stealer between them will be Bad himself :D

It’s just… he has the corvid tendencies, and a hoard (a box) of sentimental mementos from different people and events, and the thrill of stealing something small and harmless is very exciting. Bad is very proud of his little collection. Skeppy finds it very adorable, a bit hypocritical, and kinda creepy. Like, that pretty box he gifted Bad at some point is now full of stuff like:

- pressed flower from the clearing they had a picnic at on their anniversary

- the button the waitress lost that one day the storm caused a black out in the whole town

- some small animal bones

- couple pretty rocks Bad stole from Skeppy’s pockets

- penny that was once glued to the ground

- a handful of teeth people (and not people) lost in fights with Bad

- pen from some fancy hotel

- rainbow dash keychain that belonged to a child

- the list goes on

9) Argument

Oh, that same day they’ll fight over whether they should stay at the really crappy and suspicious looking motel, or go sleep in a perfectly fine forest near the road. Ironically, Bad wanted to try out the motel (because, yay, first time spending the night back in civilization), and Skeppy was the one insisting on sleeping in nature (because the motel looks like it could give you 10 diseases if you even stand near it, and sleeping in the forest is kind of nice, and means they can cuddle).

10) Horses

The guys will probably ride them at some point. Well, Bad will ride, and Skeppy will sit on his horse and hope it knows what to do and where to go, because trying to make this giant thing do something seems dangerous. If they’ll have to actually go somewhere fast, Skeppy will not survive that day, his butt (and legs) will be dead for days to come.

And riding with Bad on one horse may sound romantic and nice, but all romance dies when the gallop starts.

F.

11) Skeppy and climbing

Skeppy is more down to earth kind of guy, more of a “rocks and caves” kind of creature, real-life lizard person or something. Up on the trees and in the air – not really his element, yeah. But it doesn’t mean that Skeppy will accept this fact easy. The embarrassment of never managing to safely make it down a tree is too strong, he just has to do it all over again, and again. And again. Because, clearly, he was distracted this time. And the time before that Bad was teasing him, and it “disrupted his flow”. And, really, maybe these trees here just do not like Skeppy much, and make him slip a lot. Yeah.

So, more often than not, if Skeppy climbs a tree, he will not stop climbing it until he falls, or the tree ends. Bad had to take him off high branches couple times, forcefully, because, of course, Skeppy was sitting there for 2 hours just to properly enjoy the sunset. He can climb down at any point, he just Choses not to. The view is amazing. The bark is literally part of his skin now, not because he holds on tight, no, he’s just Than Much one with the nature )<

---

Don’t apologize for the questions! It’s always so fun to answer them, and it makes me think more about stuff I may have skipped, or didn’t think about before. It’s really nice :3c

Again, thank you for the ask, and for being here for this story! <3

(And I’ll try setting timers for rest breaks while I draw, mb that will help)

---

In The Dark - masterpost

[c-is-writing]

extinguished

pairing: kara danvers x gn!reader

genre: 100% angst

word count: 1577

warnings: none

a/n: aahhh writing a full angst was a bit hard for me bc i still need to practice writing angst but i hope that this at least makes your heart ache >:DD

original request

12 unread messages, 4 voicemails, 2 cold dinners, and 1 missed date. The dimly lit kitchen feels suffocating as the last candle finally burns out. You watch as the wisps of smoke float through the air before fading away. You know, candles are such interesting and versatile objects. They can be used to express a variety of emotions like calm or somberness. These hard wax pillars can soften overtime once a flame is ignited within them, creating a warm glow that surrounds them. However, like all good things, the flame slowly burns out until there’s nothing left to burn, leaving a thin trail of smoke in its wake. 

Distracted by your thoughts as you watch the grey swirls fill the air, you don’t notice the arrival of a certain blonde. Before you can lose yourself once again in your thoughts, a voice calls out for you. Turning around, you see your girlfriend standing in front of the balcony door in her Supergirl regalia. You let out a sigh as you turn away from her, choosing to focus on the plate in front of you. The clicking of boots on the hardwood floor grow louder and louder before coming to a stop. A soft hand is gently placed on yours, resting on the dining table. Kara kneels beside you as she pulls your hand towards her, bringing your attention lower to face her. Running a hand through her wind-blown hair, she lets out a heavy sigh. You already know what’s about to happen as you hear the three words you’re beginning to really despise.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Kara says, voice filled with guilt.

Shaking your head, you give her a small smile. “Please, stop saying that Kara.”

Taken aback by your response, she’s left at a complete loss for words. You brush a strand of hair out of her face as you continue.

“I know that you’re sorry, Kara, but I’m beginning to think that you’re sorry for a lot more than missing another dinner date.”

“What? What do you mean?”

There’s no way she could be that clueless, right? The painful smile quickly drops from your face as you lock eyes with the crouching woman. 

Annoyance seeps into your voice as you speak. “You’re kidding me, right? Do not play oblivious with me, Kara.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Y/N. What do you mean by, ‘I’m sorry for a lot more than missing dinner’?”

“No, I don’t believe you” --you scoff-- “There’s no absolute way in hell you don’t know what you’re doing.”

Kara drops your hand and instantly stands up, getting into a defensive stance. 

“We can’t talk about this properly if you won’t tell me what the problem is. So, spit it out, Y/N. What is the problem with me? What do you know about me that I don’t know?”

You quickly stand up, pushing the chair back, and point an accusing finger at her. Frustrated with the whole ordeal, you begin to rant.

“What’s the problem? What’s the problem?! Kara, I can see it in your eyes. Those bright blue eyes that used to look at me in adoration no longer do that. That shine in your eyes whenever I cooked your favorite meals dulled. What happened to us, Kara? Am I not enough for you anymore? You barely text me that you’re okay whenever you finish Supergirl duties. You’ve missed countless dates, always brushing me off in favor of doing other things and going to other places. Hell, you don’t even cuddle with me in bed anymore! There’s no lingering touches, sleepy kisses, nothing.”

At this point, you want to continue your speech but angry sobs rack your body, interrupting your train of thought. The dark apartment goes silent as Kara watches as you wipe at your burning tears. In a soft voice, Kara tries to reason with you.

“Y/N. I-” -- she sighs -- “I don’t know where to begin except for the fact that I’m sorry about hurting you like this. I guess I’ve just been really tired lately. With everything going on with the DEO and CatCo, I don’t really have the energy to do these things anymore and a lot of the time, these just slip my mind. I-”

Regaining your breath and partial composure, you explode at her.

“KARA DANVERS, DO NOT START THAT WITH ME.” Clenching your fists, you take a breath and continue. “I think I understand it now. You’ve fallen out of love with me, right? That flame we had was finally extinguished because you grew tired of me. Tell me, who did you fall in love with this time?”

You watch as Kara’s eyes are flooded with guilt and she gulps. In a quiet and nearly broken voice, Kara gives you the answer you were looking for.

“Lena.”

Drawing your lips into a thin smile, you nod as tears begin to fill your vision once more. You chew on your lip as everything finally begins to fall into place.

---

You were at Alex’s apartment, having a game night with the Superfriends. The group decided to play Charades and wanted to split up the couples so you were paired up with Alex as Kara was paired with Lena. While everyone was laughing at Winn trying to act out his word, you sat off to the side of the couch, sipping your drink. Across the room, you could see how Kara was practically glowing as she talked with Lena. Those ocean blue eyes you fell in love with were falling in love with someone else and you watched as your relationship with Kara began to slowly unravel. With every touch, laugh, and smile the pair shared, you could feel your heart sinking and crack bit by bit.

A hand gently shook your shoulder, pulling you out of your thoughts. You looked up to see Alex’s eyes filled with concern as she asks if you’re okay. Brushing her off, you nod your head and get ready for your turn, missing the way Kara ignored you, not sparing a second thought as she continued her conversation with Lena.

The next time you realized that your girlfriend was falling out of love with you and instead with someone in your friend group was when you were reading a couple of random blog posts about Supergirl. Something that caught your eye was a comment under an article about L-Corp.

> Isn’t that the place that Supergirl keeps going to?

> OMG yeah! i’ve heard about a lot of supergirl sightings in that area

> A friend of mine goes to a park nearby there and says that he sees a streak of blue and red fly by at the same time nearly every day.

> I wonder why she keeps going there. Don’t Supers and Luthors have a bad history with each other?

> yeah, i think they do but it seems like supergirl and lena luthor like each other.

You scoffed at that last comment. Yeah, more like they love each other. Pausing, you realized that Kara is falling in love with Lena. The two of them have been spending a lot more time together, arguably Kara has spent more time with her than you within the past few weeks. Your heart clenched at the thought and you shook your head, wanting to dispel the idea out of your head. There’s no way. Kara would at least tell me. Right? Tears began to well up in your eyes as you let out a few pitiful sobs. Fuck.

---

“Leave. I don’t want to see you in this apartment ever again.”

“Y/N, I-”

“Don’t say it,” you practically beg her, “please.

She whispers in a guilt-ridden voice, “Okay.”

Continuing, you stare at the ground as you say, “I want all of your things out of here by morning. I’m going to Nia’s apartment tonight.”

At this point, the two of you are standing in the kitchen at an arm's length, trying to hide your tears from each other. You’re the first to turn away as you head to your bedroom to pack an overnight bag. Quickly sending a text to Nia, you pack what you need to stay the night and you check your phone, seeing a text message giving you the okay to stay over. A sigh of relief escapes your lips as you pocket the phone and brush away stray tears. 

When you leave the bedroom, Kara hasn’t moved an inch, just staring aimlessly into the ground. At the sound of your door closing, she looks up to see you walking past her with a bag hung on your shoulder. Placing your hand on the door handle, you’re about to open the door when you pause and look over your shoulder. The blonde looks so defeated in her place; head hung low, shoulders slumped over, eyes red and lined with tears. The two of you make eye contact as you give her a small smile and step out of the apartment, leaving the superhero alone with her thoughts and guilt.

Just like a candle, your relationship that once burned bright dwindled down until it was on its last legs. The argument snuffed the flame, once and for all, leaving the both of you to fade into the smoke that was the irreparable relationship that could no longer be rekindled. Relationships that were broken had the chance at being repaired but those that burned out could no longer be reignited.

taglist (all): @teenwonder @procrastinatingsapphictrash  @owloftheshadows

taglist (kara danvers): @karazorxel

[mochegato]

Pixie Spy

Chapter 5

Chapter 1    Chapter 4

Marinette laid on Nino’s living room floor studying the stolen Grimoire files on her tablet.  She had been staring at the same page for the last two hours, making little progress.  Just because she could translate the ancient text, it didn’t mean it was easy or quick.  In fact, it was headache inducing and with Adrien focusing on keeping them caught up on homework while she and Chloe were otherwise occupied, she was translating alone.  She knew there were amazing secrets held in the texts, the drawings promised amazing new powers for each of the miraculous, she just needed to decode them.  

She scrunched her eyes closed and rubbed them to clear her vision that had started crossing.  Now, she decided, was a perfect time to take a break.  She looked around the room for a distraction. Adrien was near her on the floor, leaning against the couch and working on the physics assignment they had received that day, having already finished the calculus assignment.  Alya, having already passed her research onto Chloe, was on the couch working on the French Lit homework. Nino was sprawled out on the couch with his feet propped up on Alya’s lap, not working on anything, staring off into space with a furrowed brow instead.  

Everyone was working quietly except for Chloe who was making her discontent with her surroundings abundantly clear through her frequent huffs and exaggerated movements.  She was sitting in a chair making notes in a notebook referencing her laptop occasionally.  She huffed and wiggled uncomfortably in the chair, “Tell me again why we have to do this here?” Chloe demanded, not bothering to mask her disgust with the middle class surroundings.

“We can’t meet in the hotel because we can’t take the chance the Waynes would see Marinette walking in the lobby or the hallway. We can’t meet at Adrien’s place because Asshole Dad.  We can’t meet at Marinette’s in case they’ve made her already.  That leaves my place or here and my place has the twins who are currently both grounded and bored so… that leaves here.” Alya explained calmly, not bothering to look up from her homework.

“Yeah, yeah, but couldn’t we have met at like a nice café or pub?” Chloe whined, rubbing her arms as though contact with the chair fabric were scratching her.

“And take the texts outside?” Adrien asked with a raised brow motioning toward Marinette.

“Plus until we know how much they know, it is probably best I’m not seen out more than absolutely necessary, hence the…” she indicated the oversized hoodie she had stolen from Kim some time ago she had been wearing all day, mostly with her hood up, completely enveloping her head.

“I thought that was so you could hide from Laurence…” Alya said with a sly grin.

“Or Noelle,” Adrien threw in.

“Or Ignace…” Chloe added, keeping her focus on her laptop.

“Okay stop.  Really, Chloe?  Wouldn’t you much rather talk about the throngs of people throwing themselves at you?” Marinette attempted to divert her to one of her favorite topics, herself.

“Oh sweetie, we don’t have that kind of time.” Chloe said throwing her ponytail over her shoulder.  “We’re just talking about the ten or twenty we know about willing to let you tie them up and beat them like a piñata then thank you for the privilege.”

“That sounds like a regular Saturday night for you, Chlo,” Alya grinned.

“I…I don’t know how to react to that.” Marinette scrunched her face in confusion.  “My first inclination is to say she’s exaggerating, but it’s Chloe and if anything she would underplay it.  Plus I am extremely not happy with that little insight into Chloe’s bedroom, so… I’m going to ignore this entire conversation.” Marinette said turning back to her tablet.

Adrien looked up from his notes for a few moments staring in thought at nothing, “Valid,” he nodded, turning back to his work as well.

Nino had stayed silent throughout the conversation staring instead unfocused at a spot on the floor for the past few minutes. Adrien glanced back at him with curiosity.  “Hey,” he smacked his hand into Nino’s leg, “you okay there?  You completely missed us teasing Marinette about her fans. That’s one of your favorite topics.”

“Ahhh, Laurence… yeah, that dude makes me nervous. Michel is cute though.  I could see that.” Marinette gave an affronted squawk. Nino continued without acknowledging her, “No, I was just thinking… we know Batman’s secret identity.”

“Yeah,” Adrien said uncertainly.

“And he doesn’t know ours.” Nino continued.

“Right,” Adrien encouraged still not sure where the conversation was going.

“And we have you and Chloe, both pretty famous and could easily end up at a party or event with at least one of them…” Nino mused thinking out loud.

“True.”

“So… how much can we mess with him about it without getting killed?” Nino asked raising his brow with a playful glint in his eyes.

“Dude!” Adrien exclaimed excitedly, his eyes lighting up at the thought.

“You want us to prank the Dark Knight?” Alya looked at him like he was crazy.

“Really?” Marinette deadpanned.

“Yeah, you’re right.  It is potentially fraught with danger.  We might need to bring Alix and Max in on this.” Nino nodded still thinking about how he could manage it.

Alya dropped her head into her hands, “Idiot.” She muttered shaking her head in her hands, not entirely sure if he was joking or not.  Honestly, either option was possible.

“Well, that makes you two perfect for each other,” Chloe deadpanned still focused on writing something down in her notebook missing the withering look Alya shot her.

“Okay Kim,” Marinette rolled her eyes at Nino.  She looked uncertain for a moment then pushed herself back until she was sitting on her heels and spoke hesitantly, “Or… we could discuss if we are still certain we don’t want the Batfamily here.  Are we sure we don’t want their help?”

“Yes, yes we are,” Alya replied, her voice bordering on disbelief that Marinette would even ask.  “We know what the Justice League is like.  We know what they’ve done and we have a damn good idea what they could do given half the chance.  We gave in on Constantine and look what happened.  We cannot trust them.”

“Think about the last few weeks, Marinette.  Think how much worse they would have been if those people had powers to begin with and understood the extent of their powers, how to push them, how to exploit them.  What to ask for from Hawkmoth to do the most damage?” Nino added.

“The bats don’t have superpowers.” Marinette defended.

“But they work with people who do.  They have strategized attack plans around people who have powers. They understand them and what’s most effective…” Chloe added barely looking up from her notepad.

“And they are incredibly well trained in combat and strategic planning… It would be hard enough without them having super powers. With them, we would be fucked.” Adrien added cutting in on Chloe’s statement.

“We are barely keeping up as it is.  If one of the bats of Justice League were to get akumatized…” Nino let the statement trail off, allowing everyone to use their imagination to fill in the rest.

“Exactly!  We are barely keeping up.  Do we need to consider getting help?  From someone with more experience and different skills?  From someone with experience using superpowers against an opponent?” Marinette ran a hand over her face, “I’m just… I’m getting scared. And I don’t know if that is because I’m seeing a pattern or if I’m just frustrated with where we are and desperate for any change.  And the more distance I have from it, the more I wonder if Constantine was right.  Is it time to bring someone in, but we’re just too scared to try something different?”

“As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted by a banal, obvious statement,” she glared at Adrien, “they have a good understanding of powers, their strengths and weaknesses, and how to strategize around them, which would make them powerful akumas, or incredibly advantageous assets against an akuma.”  Everyone stared at her in surprise.  “Stunned looks terrible on you.” She said making clear she was directing it to all of them.  “The silent awe of me is appropriate though.” She said sitting back in her chair only to immediately grunt and start squirming against the fabric again.

“It isn’t just the powers, I don’t trust them, especially Batman.  If we give them half the chance, I’m afraid they will try to take the miraculous because they think they could wield them and protect them better.” Adrien admitted.  

The group took a second to let both sides of the argument sink in, unsure how to move forward.  Both outcomes could lead to horrific outcomes that nobody wanted to allow. They were all afraid and they knew they were, but like Marinette, they didn’t know if the fear was holding them back from making a mistake or from having a breakthrough.

After a few moments of quiet, Nino broke the quiet in a soothing voice, “We have no way to know which way things will tilt.  Let’s see what we get from the files and reassess then. No reason to introduce more chaos until we know what we have to work with already.  Have you found anything yet?”

“A bit.  Ugh,” she said accepting the change of topic and looking at her notebook with disgust, “this would be so much easier if the kwamis could just tell us all the possible uses of the miraculous were and the ways they could be combined.”

“Yeah, but then Hawkmoth would have known too… and Mayura and Argus.” Tikki pointed out.

“That’s a horrifying thought.  I don’t think we could have taken Hawkmoth and Mayura when we started if they had known all their options.” Adrien shuttered thinking about it.

“That’s why they created the rule that kwami could only tell the very basic powers and responsibilities.  Anything more than that can only come from the Order, so if anyone stole a miraculous, they wouldn’t be able to effectively wield it, making it easier for trained wielders to get it back.”  Trixx said.

“A bit more effective back when there was an Order and masters who actually trained wielders, but you know, times change,” Plagg shrugged with a thinly disguised disgust.

“Okay but let me just say not having known this,” Marinette turned the tablet around for them to see the image of the dragon miraculous she had been studying, “was an option is extremely upsetting.”

“Dibs!” Nino called out, jumping up from the couch before anyone else could call it.

“Fuck you, I saw it first.  I’ve got dibs.  I’ve got plans for it.”  Marinette blew him off.

“No way, you’re going to see all of them first.” Nino pouted.

Marinette grinned at him, “Guardian” she singsonged.  

Trixx floated up closer to the tablet.  “Oh that one.  Yeah, everyone likes that one.  It’s actually just a variation of the power you know already so it is a lot easier to pick up than it looks.”

Plagg floated next to her to check it out too.  “If you like that one, just wait until you find out about…” his sentence was cut off by an overflow of green bubbles falling out of his mouth, causing him to glare at nothing and everything at the same time.

“Okay enough of that.  My turn.” Chloe announced turning her laptop to display pictures of each of the Waynes and their alter egos.

Adrien leaned forward to get a closer look at the images and suddenly his eyes got huge and he gasped, “Oh my God… in the name of all that is holy and good in this world, please tell me the one in the godawful, Red Skull wannabe mask is the one you were making heart eyes at all night.  Please, please, please…” Adrien begged Marinette.

Marinette refused to meet his eyes and pursed her lips, focusing intently on the laptop.  “No comment.”

“It is him! Can I please, please be there when you ‘discuss’ that mask with him before we kick him out?” Adrien said shaking with delight at the thought of it.

Marinette glared at him, “We are going to be focusing on getting them out of Paris without drawing further curiosity or ire, not their wardrobe.” She pointed out turning to Chloe with an expectant look trying to prompt her to continue but couldn’t stop herself from whipping back toward Adrien, “And, I don’t even know if he was even interested in me at all.  It’s far more likely they are concerned about the situation than he is about getting a date.”

Chloe rolled her eyes, “You’re not that stupid, Dupain-Cheng. The honeypotting wouldn’t have worked if he wasn’t interested.”

“I did NOT honeypot him…. And I still don’t know what that means!” Marinette yelled exasperated.

“Yeah, yeah.  But I get to be there right?” Adrien implored ignoring her annoyance and still not giving her a definition.  At this point, it was a matter of pride… or comedy.  Either way, he was dedicated to never telling her what it meant.

“Oooooo and me too,” Alya jumped in.

“You should just leave your com on so we can all hear.” Chloe commented with feigned disinterest.

“We should put it on speaker.  The kwamis will want to hear it too.” Nino agreed with a grin.

“I hate all of you,” Marinette grumbled crossing her arms in front of her as she pouted.

Adrien chuckled at her before putting her out of her misery, “Okay, Chlo.  What did you figure out?”

“So, I focused on Bruce Wayne, Richard Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, and Damian Wayne.  I couldn’t get an identity on Spoiler and there is no public information on Cassandra Cain, who is probably Batgirl, so I could only look at her vigilante work.  But if Constantine is right, they are both still in Shanghai.  It is unlikely they would have brought them in just to talk with us.  So for tonight, they don’t matter.”  Chloe explained before continuing with her analysis.

“The rest of the Wayne family are a treasure trove of insecurities, pressure points, and triggers.  I’m just going to go over the biggest ones since we hopefully will only have to deal with them for a few minutes at the most.  These unstable assholes are definitely Hawkmoth’s wet dream. Extremely well trained and no control over their emotions.  All have extreme versions of insecurity complexes, but react differently.

“Bruce Thomas Wayne is a control freak.  His public persona isn’t much help.  As far as I can tell, most of it is a mask.  He pretends to be a drunk, irresponsible, billionaire playboy but we know he’s Batman so all that is bullshit.  What isn’t is that he is a good negotiator and actor, all of which means he can be a good manipulator and we know from his experience as Batman that he is extremely strategic.  Be suspect of anything he tells you.  His intentions appear to stem from a genuine concern with making lives better, but how much he is willing to listen to other people’s opinion of what constitutes better is questionable, especially after what we know of the Justice League’s actions. He has a history of enforcing his vision onto other people, whether they want it or not, of taking control.  He needs to be in control, or feel like he is so he can prepare for what is coming and make sure it doesn’t turn against him.

“The oldest, Richard John Grayson, has a martyr complex.  He’s so devoted to the saving people thing he became a cop in his civilian life as well, by all accounts an uncorrupt one, and that’s saying something in Gotham and Blüdhaven.  Takes on too much at one time trying to fix everything and feels responsible for every bad thing that happens, even if he wasn’t there… especially if he wasn’t there, to stop it.  If he only would have done whatever, then the bad thing wouldn’t have happened.  If only he was better, blah, blah, blah. Sound familiar?” she looks pointedly at Marinette.  “That’s his weakest spot.  He takes the blame.

“The next, Jason Peter Todd has abandonment issues.  He’s constantly waiting for people to walk away from him like his parents did.  There is something more there, I know there is, like whatever happened when he disappeared for a few years, but we don’t have access to that information. Ridiculously protective of kids on the street, I think because he essentially grew up on them himself. But, here’s the catch, he became a crime lord in order to protect them.  He is willing to go dark to protect people, so they never have to feel like he did and never have to do what he had to do.  He’s straightforward and aggressive.  He feels like everyone is going to walk away from him because he isn’t enough for them to stay.  He’s dangerous.

“The next, Timothy Jackson Drake has inadequacy issues. Wealthy, absentee parents who likely never treated him like anything more than a business asset.” She looked sympathetically at Adrien.  “He is a certified genius.  Started running Wayne Enterprises a few years ago.  He likes a challenge and is an incredible negotiator.  He likes working things out on his own.  He’s smart and curious.  He knows exactly what to ask in order to get the information he needs without you even knowing that’s what he did.  Be careful answering any questions or reacting to any statements from him.  He is constantly trying to prove himself so people will love him.  He takes any failure extremely personally because it means he doesn’t deserve love and a reminder that he isn’t who he thought he was and therefore not worthy.

“The youngest, Damian Wayne, known as the Ice Prince in Gotham, has a superiority complex.  Nobody gets close to him and nobody wants to.  He showed up in Gotham at age 10 with a fully-fledged attitude.  Everyone and everything is beneath him.  He also drives himself to extremes in order to confirm his superiority.  He insults and belittles others because he believes he should be superior to everyone around him, but he is afraid he isn’t and if he isn’t better, then he is significantly worse.”

The rest of the room looked at her sympathetically.  They all knew she wasn’t just talking about Damian. That was her up until a few years ago. She needed to believe she was better than everyone else and needed everyone around her to believe it too.  If she was better then she deserved her parents’ love.  If she had everyone else’s love, it made it easier to fool herself into believing her parents loved her as well, or blunt the feeling when she would realize just how much they didn’t.  But years of therapy, a higher purpose, and real friends that truly wanted the best for her but refused to take any shit from her, made her realize she didn’t need to be that person to deserve love.

“Also keep in mind there are likely significant trust issues going on here.” Chloe continued ignoring the looks from the rest of the room.  “There are a lot of reports of violence between Red Hood and Red Robin, Red Hood and Robin, Red Hood and… everyone actually, as well as Robin and Red Robin.  Based on fact that violence is higher immediately after a changing of the guard, I’d say the passing of the mantle from one Robin to another has never been consensual and likely contributed to their complexes.  They are held together by the thinnest of threads.  We can snap that if we need to… but I don’t think we want to go that far.  If we snap that… I don’t know how much damage that will do or if they will come back from it.” She cautioned hesitantly.

“Agreed.  I don’t want to go there.  There is plenty to use without going into the family issues, without causing irreparable damage.” Marinette concurred.  They didn’t want the Bat family in Paris but they didn’t want to destroy them either. She wasn’t willing to let herself or her team become monsters in order to stop them.  At the end of the day, they were ultimately all on the same team, they all wanted the same outcome, they just had different ways they wanted to get there… and different ideas about who got to decide that… and who should lead it…

“God these people need a hug not whatever that ‘family’ of theirs is providing each other.” Nino said aghast at the report.

“Marinette’s already on top of that, at least for one of them…” Alya smirked.

“Fuck you, bitch.” Marinette narrowed her eyes at her.

“I’m on top of that one,” Nino grinned, raising his hand.

“Oh God.  Seriously we need to investigate that brain bleach thing,” Marinette groaned squeezing her eyes shut trying to keep that image from appearing.

“Okay,” Adrien announced over everyone, “we all agree after this whole Hawkmoth thing is over, I get to kick Constantine’s ass and we all portal over to the Batcave and hug the insecure, unfairly cute, prickly, little echidnas until they feel better, right?” Adrien asked solemnly.

“Ugh, fine but I’m not hugging the gremlin.  Someone else gets that one,” Chloe called out throwing out her arms.

The room stilled as everyone else looked at each other, “Not it!” they all called at almost the exact same moment.

“Damn it,” Nino cried as he realized he had been a few seconds slower than everyone else.

“That’s what you get for being a turtle.  When the confrontation happens, I got the pampered rich kid.”  Chloe announced.  This was her area.  She knew just where to push kids like that, like her.  She knew exactly what to say to get them, her, to hit them at their most vulnerable.  To push just enough to make an impact without breaking them.

“No, Chloe.  We don’t want to tip our hand and we need you guys to stand sentry.  I want you, Alya, and Nino to hang back acting as scouts. This is likely to go bad and I need you guys in a triangular formation a block out watching for akumas.  Adrien and I will talk to them.”

“Alone?” Nino asked tentatively.  His job was to protect.  He didn’t like the idea of not being close enough to act if they should need it.

“They aren’t going to attack us, at least not physically.  And we will take an extra miraculous each.” Marinette smiled gently to placate him.

“Are you sure two is enough, m’lady?” Adrien asked curiously.

“You sure you aren’t just trying to keep it a bit more intimate for you and your boy?” Alya waggled her eyebrows.

Marinette glared at her, “Two should be enough.” She said ignoring the previous statement, “Combined with your two, we should be able to cover what we need to. It’s just the Batfamily.  We should be able to handle them with just one each even if they wanted to attack us.” She grinned at Adrien.  “Magic, gotta love it.”  

“Okay but when he calls you incompetent, which he will, you need to push back.  Point out the ways he’s failed.  He isn’t better than us, no matter what he thinks and the sooner you make him realize that, the sooner the real conversation can start.” Chloe warned.

“He is all of, what, 13?  We are not going to try to emotionally damage a child.” Nino stated flatly.

“As long as he thinks he is better than us, he won’t take us seriously.” Chloe warned.  Nino just glared back at her, not willing to give in on this.  “Fine, if you don’t want to point out his failings, then point out the most impressive things we’ve done that they haven’t.  That should suffice.  Not as effective, but it should get you there.”

“Okay, if we’re going to start discussing strategy, we’re going to need some sustenance.  Let’s get dinner ready so we can start discussing the plan for tonight,” Alya said throwing Nino’s legs off her lap.  Marinette and Nino followed her to the kitchen leaving Chloe and Adrien behind.

“You know, I noticed something with your analysis, Chloe,” Adrien started quietly keeping his eyes on their friends.

“I would hope you noticed more than just one thing,” Chloe chided him.

“Cute,” he said rolling his eyes, “Jason was the only one you said was dangerous, why is that?  

“I thought it was obvious?  The others have a limit.  I don’t know that he does.  And Marinette likes him, a lot.  He has a power to hurt her that the others don’t.  And they are very different.  They are both willing to go as far as necessary to help others, but to her that means killing herself, to him that means killing everyone else and himself,” She looked at him uncertainly, “and I’m not sure how she will react to that.”

“You think he would do that if we let him stay here?”

“I don’t know enough about him to predict what he will do.  He dialed it back to work with the bats again but… There really isn’t that much on him. I can tell you what Red Hood has done and that is bad, but not Jason Todd.  Since he disappeared, presumed dead, hell maybe he was, who knows what happens in Gotham, there is nothing on Jason Todd.  If you want me to try to predict, you can hop on down to Africa and see if you can borrow the kwami of prediction.  Until then, it’s all guesswork.  I need to see him.  See how he acts before I could even try.”

He stared at her for a few seconds a look of utter confusion on his face, “You think the kwami of prediction is in Africa?”

“Do you ever hear any miraculous related shit doing down in Africa?” she fixed him with a knowing stare.

“No,” he said cautiously

“Exactly, because they know what’s coming and they do their fucking jobs.” She winked at him and walked away.

<><><><><> 

Bruce, Jason, Tim, and Damian sat in the living area of Bruce’s hotel room in various states of suited up for the night.  They had barely had time to throw their bags in their rooms before meeting up to prepare for the night.  Damian was completely dressed and ready to go on a moment’s notice, as always more than ready to focus on business.  Bruce and Tim were in everything but their masks, choosing comfort until they had to leave.  Jason was sitting in a large chair in just his pants and shirt, attempting to look relaxed and nonchalant about them being so close to the girl he met at the gala. They were all staring at a massive screen linking them to Dick, Alfred, and Selina in the Batcave.  

“So, how’s Paris, boys?” Selina asked from her position lounging in one of the chairs.  “Meet any interesting people yet?  Jason?”  She added with a smirk.

“You know Bruce, all work and no play.  We haven’t gotten a chance to get out and meet anyone.  Doing this instead.” Jason shrugged with a practiced indifference, forcing himself to recline further back into the chair in an effort to seem casual.  

“Haven’t even gotten to see the Eiffel Tower yet?” She asked in mock sympathy.

“Oh, no, we saw it… from the plane.” Jason played along.

“You really should make sure to visit the Eiffel Tower while there, Master Bruce.”  Alfred threw in trying to downplay his amused smile.

“It’s not as impressive as you think it will be,” Tim muttered to nobody in particular.

“We’re here for a reason, Jason.  If we don’t want to lose today, we need to get started immediately…”  Bruce admonished him but upon looking up and seeing Alfred’s unimpressed look added, “We can get lunch near the Eiffel Tower tomorrow.  Better?” He looked to Alfred who switched to small smile instead.  Taking that as approval, Bruce nodded to Tim indicating they were ready for him to start his presentation.

Tim nodded to Bruce and moved to the front of the group and pulled up an image from the Ladyblog displaying five superheroes and their names on half of the screen.  “I’ve found a few local resources on the heroes we couldn’t see back home and have downloaded their contents and sent them back to you guys,” he said nodding toward the half of the screen displaying the cave, “so you can look through the information as well.  I’m not sure what is preventing the data from being accessible from America, but I suspect magic.” He glared at the screen like it personally offended him, “I hate magic.

“I’ve only had about 30 minutes to prepare so this is going to be brief.  I mainly focused on… well actually I mainly focused on figuring out the best resources for information, downloading copies of the site content, and sending a copy back to the batcomputer.  But after that, I mainly focused on figuring out who the heroes are so we know who we might run into and who to look for tonight.  

“The available information indicates a villain named Hawkmoth appeared in Paris roughly five years ago…”

“Huh. Where have I heard that before?” Jason muttered from his seat.

“… and the heroes Ladybug and Chat Noir appeared at the same time.” Tim continued a bit louder this time.  “There appear to be five regular heroes and a few heroes that appear from time to time. Here are images of the heroes we know about,” he nodded to the image on the screen.  He switched briefly to another image displaying the lesser known heroes before returning to the image of the main five heroes.  “Not every battle is caught on camera and of the battles that are caught, most of the actual fighting is not caught, making it easy to miss heroes and villains in the fight.  The resources make it clear there likely are more heroes that we don’t know about, which I would say is a definite since your girlfriend didn’t appear on any of the sites.” He nodded toward Jason who just huffed and crossed his arms in response, not willing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

“The primary heroes are Ladybug and Chat Noir, with Ladybug as the leader.  Those are the two we need to convince if we want any information.  We know a few identities of past heroes, including a girl who lives in this hotel, Chloe Bourgeois.  She was a bee themed heroine named Queen Bee.  Since then another bee themed heroine has appeared and is one of the 5 regulars.”

Jason narrowed his eyes at the screen, “It looks like the same person.  Could it be her in a different costume?”

“I don’t think so,” Tim answered shaking his head, “When I was looking at her page on the sites I think I saw that she has been seen at the same time as the new bee hero.  I can analyze it more when I get more time, but the local experts don’t appear to think they are.  We don’t know the identity of the new bee.”

“You think they look similar?” Dick asked incredulously.  “You’re crazy.  Their costume, hair color, eye color, height, everything is different.”  Jason looked between Dick and the image of the two bee wielders a few times.  One of them was crazy, he just wasn’t sure which one of them it was.

“Figure out where she lives then you should arrange to run into her tomorrow.” Bruce said nodding toward Tim.

Tim gave a single nod to Bruce accepting the assignment.  “There seems to have been a massive overhaul of heroes about a year into the fight.  All of the heroes except Ladybug and Chat Noir were replaced with new heroes.  No explanation was given… or maybe there is one I just haven’t found it yet.”

Damian scoffed, “There’s one villain and five or more heroes and they haven’t been able to take him down?  Pathetic. These are the people entrusted with objects capable to destroying the world?”

“I haven’t been able to get much information yet so we don’t know exactly what is going on but it looks like there is more than just Hawkmoth.  He might be a leader or mastermind behind the villains.  I’ve seen at least a few other villain names mentioned when looking up the heroes.”

“Do we think they all have a miraculous as well?” Dick asked.

“Not sure.  I haven’t gotten that far yet, but it stands to reason.” Tim nodded absentmindedly.

Jason moved closer to the screen staring intently at the pictures of Ladybug from different years.  There was something familiar about her but there was something else sitting on the edge of his consciousness, he just needed to figure out what his subconscious was trying to tell him.  His eyebrows furrowed and he narrowed his eyes trying to block out anything but the images.  His eyes widened as the realization suddenly hit him, “Mother fucker!”  He whipped around to Tim, “Do we have any indication of how old these heroes are?  They look like babies in those older pictures.”

Tim shrugged, “Haven’t gotten that far yet so, not sure.  But I glanced at a section on Ladybug and Chat Noir throughout history so at least for them, somewhere between 5 and 5000.  I should have a better idea tomorrow after I’ve had a chance to read a bit more.”  He squinted at the pictures, “You think they look young?”

“You don’t?” Jason asked incredulously.

Damian examined the images a bit harder as well.  “They do seem around my age in the first images.”

“Really?  I’m with Tim, I can’t tell either.  I can’t get a good feel for age when I look at the pictures.” Dick’s voice came over the speaker.  “That’s strange.  Their faces are at least partially exposed.  I should be able to get an idea at least.” He paused for a few seconds. “Do you think the magic is helping conceal their identities as well?”

Tim stared at the images as well, moving slowly closer to them, “Maybe,” he nodded subconsciously, “I can’t get a feel either.  The longer I stare at them the harder it is to tell anything.”

“Magic.” Bruce shook his head in disgust.  “Anything else to tell us tonight, Tim?”

Tim shook his head “Not today.  I’ll have more tomorrow.”

Bruce nodded a thanks and switched places with Tim.  Damian scowled at Tim and moved to put some distance between him and Tim.  Tim fought off rolling his eyes in annoyance, but only just managed it.  Bruce turned to the rest of the team, “Okay, as soon as we are done here, we’ll start scouting the city to see if we can make contact. We are not looking to be too subtle with this.  We want them to know we are here.  If you catch sight of them, let the rest of us know we will send someone to talk to them about a meeting later tonight or tomorrow.  I want to make this very clear.  Our goal today is to meet the local heroes and set up a meeting in the next few days in order to gather more information.   The primary mission is recon.  We have no idea what exactly is going on here or how dangerous it is.  We are not engaging tonight.  We want them to trust us, think we’re on their side, and get as much information out of them as we can, on the situation and the miraculous.”

“If we want them to trust us, we should leave the rabid squirrel here.  Or better yet, send his petty ass home.  He’s only going to cause trouble.” Jason griped, motioning toward Damian.  Tim did roll his eyes this time.  It was a stupid fight to pick.  Damian wasn’t going anywhere.  Damian wanted to come and Bruce gave in.  They were just on containment duty now, trying to minimize the damage Damian would do.

“You’ve made your feelings more than abundantly clear on the matter, Little Wing, frequently.  Damian is there now.  Deal with it.” Dick reprimanded him, tired of this conversation. Jason hadn’t gotten his way in their discussion in the Batcave.  He hadn’t gotten his way discussing it the next day.  He hadn’t gotten his way in the car on the way to the airport or boarding the plane or on the plane or deplaning or while checking into the hotel, he wasn’t going to get Damian kicked off the mission now.

“Someone needs to be there to make sure you don’t tell them all our secrets trying to impress some vapid, philistine harpy.” Damian snapped turning his back to Jason.  

It was a small miscalculation, but in this family that is all that is needed. By moving away from Tim, he had placed himself close to Jason and by turning, he had left himself open to Jason’s much longer arm reach.  Jason grabbed Damian’s cape and yanked back sharply.  “Watch your mouth, you puerile, creepy, little shit.”  Damian let out a startled grunt before landing with a loud thump on the ground.  He growled at Jason and tensed to pounce on him.

“Jason!” Bruce admonished moving between the two boys.  “Let’s focus on the mission.”

Jason rolled his eyes.  Of fucking course that would be Bruce’s reaction. “Right. Don’t want to prevent the oncoming disaster if it’s coming from inside the house.” He leaned back in the chair with a huff.  “You want to focus on the mission, Old Man?  Fine.  Coming at them with an almost full team that includes this asshole,” he motioned toward Damian, “doesn’t exactly scream ‘trust us’, does it?  Do we really want everyone to show up to this thing?  Maybe one or two of you should stay in the room.”

“Considering your girlfriend threatened to leave us bloody and broken, more is probably a safer bet.  We probably should have insisted on Dick coming as well, maybe have the girls meet us here too.  And do you really want to leave Damian unsupervised?” Tim asked with a raised brow fully facing him.  The only way to attempt to contain Damian at this point was to keep him close and Jason knew it.

“You could stay with him.  We weren’t planning on actually having a discussion tonight anyway.  That way you could get more research done and someone could watch the child.” Jason reasoned. Tim nodded in thought.  Not a bad idea at all.  He would like more time to research before they actually interacted with any of the heroes.  But it came from Jason so there must be something wrong with it.  He just needed to figure out what it was.

Damian growled at the description.  “I am not a child.”

Jason scoffed back at him, “You act like one.”

Damian jumped at him flipping midair and unsheathing his katana, landing with it a few centimeters from Jason’s jugular, “Could a child do that?”

“One just did.” Jason glowered at him, hitting the sword away.

“Jason has a point.” Dick spoke up, breaking the tension.  Damian whipped his head to Dick’s image on the screen his face giving away a flash of hurt before almost immediately schooling his expression into a blank look.

“Did that hurt to say?” Jason asked with a smirk, “It looked like it hurt. That’s okay sometimes the most satisfying things do.”

“Yeah, that’s healthy,” Tim muttered to himself.

Dick rolled his eyes and continued on, ignoring Jason, “Sending so many, especially hostile ones, looks like a power play.  It looks like you’re trying to intimidate them.”

“We are,” Damian snapped at him.

“You aren’t.” Dick corrected him. “You’re trying to get them on your side. You are trying to get them to trust you.  Not scare them.”

“We won’t all show up to meet them.  I’ll take the lead along with Tim.  Jason and Damian will hold back and watch.” Bruce clarified.  “For tonight I want everyone out and about so we can cover more ground and hopefully either run into one of the heroes or make our presence known enough to get their attention for tomorrow.”

“If this” Damian indicated all of them in the room, “is all it takes to scare them, they need our help more than we thought.”

“He didn’t say it would scare them, he said it looks like we are trying to scare them.” Jason responded with a sharp edge to his voice.

“You’re welcome to stay back in the room.” Tim offered annoyed with the conversation.

“I have information I want too” Jason growled at him.

“We are not here to get information on that woman.” Tim rebuked him.

“You aren’t” Jason muttered turning away.

“Jason” Bruce said sternly, “We are here to collect data on the miraculous and the heroes and see how much danger we and the world are in and if something needs to be done.”

“Not get you a date with a girl you don’t know and don’t even know if she is interested.” Tim taunted him.

“This is not about getting a date,” Jason defended himself.

Tim, Dick, and Damian all scoffed in unison while Bruce and Alfred gave Jason a skeptical look.  Selina sat in the background with an amused smile.  Really, the only result she was interested in from this mission was Jason finding his girl.

Jason glared at him before turning to Bruce, “I know what we’re here for…” He wouldn’t turn a date down if it should come up and if he managed to find her, he was definitely going to ask her.  But, his priority was to help her, which meant both finding her and getting information on the miraculous.  If he wanted to achieve both of his goals, he first needed to focus on that the family wanted… for now, so they would be distracted and he could focus on his other mission alone.  “What exactly were you thinking might need to be done?”

“Whatever we have to.” Bruce responded calmly but with steel in his eyes.

Jason furrowed his brows at Bruce.  That explanation was significantly more hostile than the original mission statement.  Not that he was surprised, but Bruce stating it so plainly meant he considered it a higher probability.  “That’s a far cry from the ‘we’re just gathering information’ mission you extolled earlier.” Jason gritted out.

“It’s all related.” Bruce stated.

“Why do you think we’re here, Todd?  We need to figure out if we need to acquire the miraculous and how to do so.” Damian snapped at him.

“You’re planning on taking the miraculous?” Tim rounded on Bruce, his confusion evident, having come to the same conclusion as Jason.  “You said over and over again you didn’t think we needed to worry about the girl that broke into the cave and now you’re planning on stealing their miraculous?”

“We are not going to steal their miraculous!” Jason exclaimed.  What the hell was going on?  He had thought they were making progress.  Bruce agreed to investigate and offer help fight Paris’ villain and now they were planning on taking out the heroes themselves.

“We are going to assess the situation.” Bruce clarified trying to pacify them and bring emotions down to a quiet rumbling rather than a full out roar. Completely content was never an option and Bruce knew it.

“We wouldn’t steal Green Lantern’s ring, we shouldn’t even be thinking about touching theirs.”  Jason yelled.

“We would if he were evil.” Dick reasoned, not at all surprised by the turn of events and long past getting upset when Bruce made plans like these. Bruce liked to be prepared.  The Paris heroes might not ever do anything evil. They might become allies, but that wouldn’t stop Bruce from figuring out their weaknesses and how to take them down should the need arise.

“If they were evil, Constantine wouldn’t be helping them.” Jason argued back, his face starting to turn red, “Not wanting to have you interfere doesn’t make them evil B.” Jason argued back.

“We are not planning on taking anything, but we need to be prepared if things go bad.  We don’t know enough to even begin to guess what could go wrong to cause us to step in. At this stage, we are just trying to get an idea what is going on so we can get a better idea of what to ask later so we can make a plan.” Bruce started moving toward the balcony doors as he pulled on his cowl, “Now finish suiting up.  Let’s go.”

“Oh this is going to go just fucking swimmingly,” Jason muttered under his breath as he pulled on his jacket and grabbed his helmet.  Tim hummed in agreement and started bracing for the worst, which was standard practice at this point.

   Chapter 5

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 Note: *Sigh* I honestly thought they would meet again, kinda, in this chapter, but then they didn’t, the unruly bastards.  So very sorry.  Next chapter I promise!  I swear it is the next scene.

[darkpoisonouslove]

Winx Club Rewrite Is a Go

I don’t know how I ended up here because I’ve always maintained that rewrites aren’t my thing (and I still kinda do) because it feels a lot like reading the same thing over and over again and to me it can be annoying. Yet, here I am with my very own Winx Club rewrite.

I started writing the first episode today but I have A LOT planned out already. Seasons 1 and 3 are pretty solid already even if there is still a lot of character work to be done and logistics to be figured out. I also have some structure for seasons 2 and 4 and I figured out the backstory of the Wizards of the Black Circle yesterday and that gave me an indescribable feeling which is pretty much what I took as a sign that it’s time to talk about this project.

To explain what I am doing - I am taking everything and changing it while keeping it the same. If that doesn’t make sense, then imagine that I am keeping the major plot points and most of the episodes (I have removed some because they are just irrelevant) have the same starting and ending point as they do on the show but there are big changes between those. Seasons 5, 6 and - you’ll find out in a sec - are going to have a lot more changes. I have removed transformations and switched around some of the transformations so that they are earned at a different point than in canon. I have picked a place to end this already and I have arcs for each season.

Now when it comes to the seasons, I have removed season 7 which will be done as a “movie” and will have additional plot still because there really is THAT little to season 7. Season 8 becomes season 7 in my rewrite and is the last and final season. It is the end of Winx’ journey and I think it is a satisfying end to a pretty long story. I am keeping the movies but:

1) There will probably be “movies” after seasons 1 and 2 as well just to make the structure make sense and because I feel like there is enough to be talked about between the seasons.

2) SotLK is majorly different from canon because there was no sense to that movie and only plot holes instead. I’ve saved what was salvageable from it and mostly put it in season 3 to free the whole movie for more interesting and logical stuff to happen. The end goal is the same, though - bringing Marion and Oritel (and Domino) back.

3) Magical Adventure is the least changed but there will be several changes here as well. The plan is to make the movie relevant on a wider level than just to Winx and the Specialists but I still don’t have that clear a vision of it. Just some things that I want to see but need piecing together.

3) The “movie” after season 5 will deal with the season 7 plot instead. I have switched them around. There will be Kalshara and Griffin and Faragonda and some major Bloom drama as well. I need to make these pieces connect, too, but this one feels almost coherent at the current time.

4) Politea is saved for the last movie that is after season 6. You’ll see why. Anyway, major Daphne and Bloom feelings are planned for that movie... and I don’t know what else yet. We’ll see.

I am currently working on all of the seasons and all of the movies at once so it is a bit of a mess. I write down and rewrite ideas. Everything is one big map in my head that isn’t completely translatable to someone else. Anyway, you can find everything I have posted about this in the “wc rewrite” tag. You can ask me questions if you have them and I’ll see how much I’ll share while trying to resist the urge to spoil everything because I have been at this for about 5 months now and I have so many ideas that I adore and want to talk about. Despite that I have no idea how quickly I can work on it. This is bound to take years which was the hardest part of this project for me to reconcile with but I really want to do it. So let’s see how that goes.

I want to say that I am planning on doing one episode a chapter but because I have decided to both develop the characters and be self-indulgent, that will make the chapters long. I don’t think that they are devoid of tension or action, however, because this thing is packed with so much stuff happening. Here’s a little sneak peak from the first episode:

“Bloom, honey, wake up,“ Vanessa’s mellow voice reached her through the colorful explosion into which her dream was retreating.

“Just five more minutes, mom,” Bloom mumbled as she wormed her head under the pillow to block out the interruption. She reached for the fairy princess in her dream with hair of liquid light and a touch like sinking through the reflective surface of a mirror that showed none of Bloom’s own features to her. She’d lose not just the way but her own self if she let go of the figure in front of her.

“You’ll be late for school, sleepy head.”

The woman evaporated in a heap of steam with a nasty hissing sound that rattled Bloom’s bones as she jumped into bed. Vanessa’s apologetic smile came into focus to draw a groan out of Bloom’s parched throat as she threw her head back.

“Not funny, mom,” Bloom grabbed her fallen pillow from the floor and plopped herself back down on her mattress, eyes wide open as the image of the fairy burned in her mind. “I wanted to see where she’d lead me!”

“Who?” Vanessa sat down on the edge of the bed.

“The fairy from my dream,” Bloom covered her eyes with her free hand to narrow her focus to the woman. “I’ve seen her before, I just...” she threw the pillow next to her on the mattress. “I can’t remember where.”

“Well, I’m not surprised. You’ve read every book on fairies that you could get your hands on. It’s only natural that they’ve started blurring together,” Vanessa chuckled.

“Yeah, but it’s not that.” Bloom shot up once again, her vision spinning for a moment from the sudden action. “She’s not a character. She’s something... someone else.” She twisted a strand of hair around her finger looking for the warmth enveloping her at the presence of the mystery fairy. It couldn’t be the first time she’d dreamed about her but she couldn’t recall more than that. “Grandma always said that dreams are important.” Another reason not to let go of the fleeting imagery in her head.

“I’m pretty sure she meant the other kind of dreams,” Vanessa’s amusement was more of a ghost itself now that Bloom had mentioned the newest loss in their family. It was her who had to stay open and talk to Bloom about Mike’s mother when he froze every time the topic was brought up until Bloom could no longer bear to cause him that. “Did you finish your art project last night? I sure hope it was inspiration that kept you up so late and not the lack of it.”

Bloom beamed despite the deflection. “I did!” She jumped out of bed as her mom made space for her to launch herself at her desk where her masterpiece was covered by stray sheets to keep her parents from peeking without her there to see the reactions. Finals had really inserted themselves in all areas of her life–including dreams–to throw a wrench in her works. Finishing a drawing she’d been sitting on for over a month had let her breathe fresh air again. “Here it is.” She pulled two sheets from the pile. “This is the sketch I did during spring break.” She’d spent a whole day wandering Gardenia looking for the building to put her vision into. “And here is the one I’ve reimagined.”

Vanessa gasped, hands flying to her mouth as her eyes gleamed with unformed tears. Not unlike her response to Bloom’s first steps in art back when she’d been three but, somehow, her reactions had developed to match Bloom’s growing skillset without giving undue credit.

Bloom’s heart swelled in her chest with pride boosted by the trust she had in her mom. Her work was almost complete now that it’d accomplished the desired effect with one parent. She’d been in awe herself by the alterations she’d made to Earth architecture to make it elaborate and alien enough for a fantasy... something. She still couldn’t decide what format she wanted to create her world in. Comics were a handy option but a vision of an elusive deal for a TV show still reared its head every time she reached for a pencil and a blank sheet of paper. And there was, of course, the popularity of video games accompanied by her lack of skills or contacts when it came to coding. There was always one more step to the door of her fairy utopia but she had to focus on the art for now.

“I hope that keeping this up will be easier after school is done stifling my inspiration,” Bloom chewed on her lip as she waited for her mom to collect herself enough to give the verdict of whether a summer job was about to take over that function now.

“Uninspired? You?” Vanessa shook her head in disbelief. “Honey, you have the imagination to create worlds and I am sure that one day you will,” Vanessa reached out cautiously towards the museum Bloom had created for her fantasy world. Her fingers barely brushed the paper to leave no traces of their presence and the bittersweet look on her face was too much for Bloom to stand. Her art was not meant to be an untouchable monument. It was supposed to be a temple, a home. Maybe her yearning had come through too well.

[aotimagines]

Aperture [1]

Hey. Remember when this blog hit 5,000 followers and I mentioned I was going to be writing something self-indulgent? The moment has finally arrived, lol. The idea spiraled way out of control before I could stop myself so here we are. This is probably not what the anon meant when they sent this in, but I couldn’t stop myself from plotting this story out. It’ll probably have around 8-10 chapters and I want to be realistic and say I’ll be able to update frequently, but there are no promises. My goal is for a new chapter every two weeks, but it’ll probably be closer to once a month. It will contain NSFW at some point, so minors do not interact. To the anon who sent this request in almost a year ago, I am so sorry this has taken me this long to write. I apologize and hope that this suffices. Without further ado, I hope you enjoy the first chapter!

“Could you lift your head and look towards the camera, please?”

Your breath was nearly whisked away from your lungs at the sight of your model’s eyes flickering towards you, the intensity swirling behind his irises rooting you to your spot. They reflected the ocean itself—deep, vibrant, and tumultuous just like rolling waves and you felt yourself drowning at sea. You could barely tear your eyes away from his ethereal beauty; from the sharp angle of his jaw, to his sinewy, sun-kissed skin. Each and every ripple of muscle resembled someone akin to a Greek statue over real life and the longer you looked at your model, the more difficult it became to stop your eyes from gazed lower…

Immediately, you brought your camera back up to your eye to conceal your reverie and took another photo, peeling the camera back to examine the frame you had just taken with more intense than you should have. “Great!” Your voice came out rushed and quick—high and pitchy. You wanted to die right then and there on the spot, but you needed to act more professional even if you couldn’t resist the temptation to ogle your client’s perfectly sculpted, perfectly nude body.

It was wrong. It was beyond heinous but, the instant Eren Jaeger walked out to your photoshoot and shed his robe, his stunning looks had been on your mind. As a professional photographer, you had seen your fair share of models, both nude and not, so why were you acting so ridiculous? There was something undeniably electric about Eren and the way he was able to express so much emotion through his eyes alone. After having worked with him for only an hour, you could definitely see why he was scouted to be a model. There was an air of shyness that radiated off him despite the wave of confidence that brimmed so brightly from within. It was cute, which felt foreign and almost like an insult when thinking about the man standing before you.

Still, you needed to maintain your composure and do your job. You could allow yourself to be dazzled by your model for a moment, but now you needed to get back to work. Standing, you exchanged a friendly smile with Eren and motioned to his hands, pointing out, “Do you mind if we get some close-up shots of the watch? I know the campaign said that they wanted a full body shot, but I’d like to give some other options…”

“Sure,” he agreed, his electric gaze never leaving your face even as he held out his wrist and loosened the tension. Immediately, you snapped into your role as the photographer and began taking photos, unaware that you inching several steps closer.

Captivated with the elegance of his long, deft fingers, you became enraptured in your own little world and mindless gave instruction and praise, your prior embarrassment all but gotten. You were unaware of the way Eren’s eyes were glued to your every expression; the way your tongue would push through your lips as you found an angle or shape you liked. As exhilarated as you were to photograph him, Eren was, in kind, just as thrilled to way the way you worked. It was difficult tot keep cool and focus on his job with the way you moved around him, the sheer delight across your face almost tangible. He had been subjected to many photographers, some good and bad, but never…

“Okay!” Your voice dragged him from his thoughts, your lips curved into a soft, gentle smile. “I think we got it? Good work, Eren. You were great.”

“Ah—thanks,” he replied, the fabric of his robe hitting his shoulders before he realized it. One of the assistants must have gotten it for him and it took him all but five seconds to realize that he was still standing before you, naked. His cheeks heated up, a tennis ball lodged in the back of his throat, but he managed to force out, “You were a good photographer. It was, uh…easy to follow your instruction.”

You were positively beaming by the time he glanced at your face, eyes wide and sparkling. “Thank-you! That means a lot, especially since I’m kind of new to working on a professional set and everything.”

“Seriously!” Eren couldn’t believe that he was still continuing the conversation—continuing to praise you, a complete and utter stranger—but here he was. Eren was not the type of person to be physically attracted to anyone right off the bat, but there was something so…mesmerizing about you that he couldn’t bring himself to stop talking. “It was a nice shoot. I didn’t even realize we were here for a couple hours.”

“Me either,” came your confession, camera clutched between your hands. “You take direction really well. Oh!” As if an idea just came to your head, you moved to the monitors behind the lights and popped out your SD card, gently sliding the chip inside the reader. Angling your chin, you glanced up at his features, your eyes shining with complete and utter excitement. “Want to see some of the shots? I usually offer to let the models see so they can view the before and after.”

“Uh…” Eren contemplated it for a moment, his mind very cognizant of the fact that he was still only wearing a robe. You seemed completely oblivious to it, which dashed some of his prior thoughts. A moment passed by until he cracked a smile and moved closer to gaze down at the computer monitor. “Sure. I don’t really get a chance to see what I can improve on, or anything.”

Your fingers clicked open the file folder, pulling up the images you had taken not even ten minutes ago. Scrolling through, your eyes darted from one side of the screen to the other as if making mental notes about which ones you wanted to save for editing, later. “Here—this one is really nice,” you said, double-clicking the image until it was pulled up for Eren to see. Despite his nudity being on full display, Eren couldn’t help but notice how…tasteful it was done. Truly, like mentioned in the job description, his focus was on the multitude of watches adorning his wrist, but there was something else about it that…

It was like you had managed to dig deep inside of him and photograph his soul; his emotions. Everything was displayed in his eyes and it took Eren a second to recognize himself. His silence made you worry, hastily bringing up, “Of course, they will look better with editing in post, but—”

Eren shook his head, cutting off your explanation before you could really begin. “No, it’s—it’s not that! Really, the photos are…” He floundered for the right word to describe what you had created; what you had managed to pull out of him and then captured on film. No other photographer had managed that before, so to see himself like that was a little…

“It’s different,” he concluded, gaze still lingering on the images on the screen. “I���m not used to seeing myself look like that. You’re an amazing photographer and I’m sort of struggling to come up with a better compliment than that.”

Visibly, you relaxed upon hearing his praise, pride swelling inside your chest when you realized that he liked the photos. “It makes it easier when my model is able to pull from within, too,” you countered, finally looking up at him after what felt like an eternity. Eren’s eyes met yours and it was like a magnetic field was drawing you closer to him, but you refrained from your urges and settled for exiting out of the photos. It took everything inside of you to swallow back the attraction and fascination that was bubbling inside of you, which only made you antsy and anxious to begin the editing process.

“Anyways, I should let you get dressed. I’m sure you’re itching to get out of here.”

“Ah, right.” Reluctantly, Eren broke eye contact first and stretched, the fabric of his thin robe inching higher against his toned thighs. You jerked your head away from him to conceal the heat crawling across your cheeks and praised whatever deity above that Eren hadn’t paid any attention to your sudden shy demeanor. He seemed to think to himself for a moment before exhaling deeply and walking off, leaving you to skim through the multitude of images you had taken.

A period of time passed because, the next thing you knew, Eren was back by your side, his silky, chocolate-colored tresses pulled back into a bun that rested at the nape of his neck. Small hairs framed his face, only fanning the fuel to his already handsome, boyish looks. You swallowed thickly and offered a smile, rising from your chair to ask, “You heading out?”

“Yeah, but I actually wanted to ask you something, first…” Eyebrow quirked, you watched Eren rock back and forth on his feet, a nervous energy teeming off of him. While the two of you knew nothing about each other outside of first and last names, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was typical behavior. He seemed to self-assured whenever he spoke. Was there something wrong with the photos after all? Before you could ask, Eren’s hand shot out and encircled around your wrist, preventing you from turning away or moving back to your computer screen. “Listen,” he pressed closer, temporarily catching you off guard with how bold he was being, “there’s a party happening later tonight. I really don’t want to go, but my manager said it’d be good for connections and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me.”

“Why?” The question escaped your mouth before you could process what was happening, confusion written across your features. You didn’t pull away from his touch, however, and repeated after a moment of clarity, “You barely know me, Eren. We’re strangers. Shouldn’t you invite one of your friends?”

Eren fell silent for a moment before an uncharacteristic smirk danced across his lips. There was something fierce about the glimmer in his eyes and his body language exuded an amount of confidence he had only displayed the instant his eyes locked with your camera lens earlier that afternoon. He leaned in closer, studying the way your face heated up, before murmuring in a low tone, “I saw the way you were looking at me, earlier.”

Embarrassed, you averted your eyes to the ground. “I’m—I’m sorry! Really, I sometimes get lost in my work and you are beautiful, so I…got swept away. It was unprofessional and I swear it won’t happen again, if we happen to work together.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it.” Eren chuckled, the sound so dizzying that you felt yourself drawn to it—to him—like a moth circling a flame. This was a dangerous game you two were playing and you weren’t sure what kind of out come Eren was looking for. Rather, he released your hand and stepped back, the intensity gone and replaced with a softer, kinder smile. “I liked your photos,” he simply stated, his hand resting against his hip as he continued to stare at you. “And you liked what you were able to get out of me. I just thought it’d be a good opportunity to each to know one another.”

“Professionally?”

“Both,” he easily quipped with a shrug of his shoulders.

You ran a hand through your hair, teeth catching your inner cheek. “I don’t know.”

“How about this.” Eren reached for the sharp on your desk and ripped the cap off with his teeth, balancing the piece of plastic between his two lips. Before you could protest, he grabbed your hand again and began to write numbers into your palm, a string of digits staring back up at you. “When you decide what you want to do, you can text me. Even if you don’t want to go with me, specifically, it’d be a good idea to make connections. You said yourself that you’re new to the industry.”

You had said that, didn’t you? Eren’s number stared up at you, silently replaying your words from earlier like a broken record until a heavy, shaky sigh pulled from your lips. You didn’t know what his intentions were, but you figured that you could worry about that, later. Even if you couldn’t decipher Eren’s true nature, the prospect of getting your name out to more people in the industry was too tempting to ignore. “But what do I wear?” you asked weakly, watching as Eren’s features lit up like a light.

“It’s cocktail, but whatever you have should be fine. I really don’t care about what other people are wearing, either way.”

You couldn’t help but laugh genuinely at this, pointing out with amusement dripping from your tone, “Aren’t you a fashion model? Shouldn’t you care about stuff like that?”

Eren scoffed, lips twisted into a smile. “Nah. That kind of stuff is stupid.”

“But then why…?” You stopped, shook your head, and moved to the desk where your cellphone rested. Holding it up, you tilted your head to the side. “So, I’ll text you? I’ll need an address, you know.”

Eren’s name was being called from across the building—probably whoever he brought with him, you noted—but his eyes still lingered on you even as he began to step away. “It’s for seven-thirty. See you!”

You watched as he jogged away until he was completely out of sight, your heart hammering against your ribs repeatedly. You weren’t sure what the hell had just transpired, but the area where his fingers brushed your skin tingled pleasantly as an aftershock effect.

You were way, way in over your head.

[padfootagain]

Why Are You Sad, September?

Here we go for the first request for my 4.7k followers event! Thank you so much for your request Anu!! I hope you like it!

This was written with the prompts:

1.“KISSES!”

2. “You are too far away.”

“I am literally on the couch with you…”

“But are you in my arms? No. See? Too far away.”

The prompts are written in italic, so you can check that I've done my job well ;)

Warning! You are not prepared for the amount of absolute fluff in this piece. Read at your own risk!

Word Count : 2037

It's rather cold outside. September seems to be particularly sad this year, and you wonder why. It's raining this afternoon, has been so for four days in a row now. The sky is grey and spooky-looking above London, a sea of clouds hiding the blue firmament. The rain makes strange little patterns on the windowpanes, and its sound makes almost the beat of a melody.

It's the weekend though. Sunday. It's quiet in London, lazy and too cold for people to be brave enough to fight the rain and take a walk. You don't blame them, after all, you're doing exactly the same.

In the corner of the room, your owl cleans its long brown feather, occasionally letting out one of her cute little sounds.

There is a record playing, an old Muggle album that you don't remember the name of, but you like the tunes. On the low table before you, two hot cups of coffee are smoking, little puffs disappearing as soon as they are created above them.

You're reading the Daily Prophet, hidden under your warmest blanket, almost lying on your sofa. On the opposite side of the furniture, Sirius is doing the same as you, only he's reading a muggle magazine about motorcycles instead.

You take a moment to look at him. His hair has grown a little over the past couple of months, now covering a part of his shoulder blades. There are traces of white in the dark stubble that covers his cheeks, and his reading glasses are a little lopsided on his nose. You like that look on him. The aging part. The watching-you-grow-old part of loving each other. You pull your mind away from memories of a time where it wasn't so sure that you could see grey hair creep up on his temples. It was a long time ago. Death Eaters were long gone.

Instead of dwelling on such memories, you resume your study of his features. His grey eyes you have always adored match the colour of the sky outside as they travel across the pages. The bruises that colour his cheekbone and his neck haven't disappeared yet. His knuckles are still covered with bandages, but there's no blood anymore.

Sometimes you hate the fact that he became an Auror. Sometimes you wish he and James had settled for some work in an office, and you know that Lily feels the same. But then, you know him enough to be aware that it was an obvious choice for him. He loves it. And that's all the arguing you need to drown the idea. Still, you wish you could make his scratches and bruises disappear simply with a kiss. He would never be hurt then.

"Admiring the view, are we?" His voice pulls you out of your reverie, and you playfully throw a cushion at his face to make his smirk disappear.

"I mean... I don't blame you," he goes on with a toothy grin, easily catching the cushion before it would hit him. "With a husband as hot as I am..."

"I was trying to evaluate how much your hair had gone whiter these past couple of months."

"You're an arse."

You laugh at him while he gives you one of his adorable pouts.

"I'm joking. I was admiring my very hot husband indeed. Besides, I like your grey hair."

"Really? You like it?"

You nod, humming appreciatively. You disregard the newspapers completely and put them down on the ground.

"I do. Reminds me that we've made it."

He gives you a tender smile, putting his magazine away as well.

"We did make it," he nods, before his eyes would drift toward the moving pictures that rested above the mantlepiece, settling on his favourite picture of you and your children. "And we've done pretty great since, don't you think?"

"Yeah... I think we did."

"I just wish they wrote to us more often."

"They're at Hogwarts! Give them a break, they're having fun. The same way we did."

Sirius gave you a pointed look.

"Well... I hope they don't have as much fun as we both did when they reach 7th year. There was too much sex involved and I don't have the strength to deal with all that for now."

You laughed at him.

"They're not there yet. Besides, Harry did survive Hogwarts!"

"Yeah... well... his 7th year was apparently quite close to what his parents were doing back then too so... bad example."

"He and Ginny are cute together though."

"Potters and their love for redheads..." Sirius sighs, leaning to grab his coffee and put down his glasses on the table instead.

He takes a sip, but puts down his cup again quickly. He turns to you, a large grin back on his features as he opens his arms, an obvious plea for you to cuddle him for the rest of the day.

You know the drill. How many days have been spent like this? Trapped in Sirius's arms when you had a thousand things to do?

Many. The thought makes you smile.

"You're too far away," he complains, giving you his adorable puppy eyes and you silently curse his Animagus form for enhancing that trait of his. He didn't need that to be irresistible.

"I am literally on the couch with you…"

"But are you in my arms? No. See? Too far away."

You can only laugh at how silly he is sometimes, but crawl across the sofa nonetheless, settling against his chest and shoulder. And you are forced to admit that it's much better than to be in the corner of the couch, no matter how comfortable your furniture is.

From Sirius's corner, you can peer in your kitchen, and even from there you can see some of the drawings your children have made when they were little that now decorate the doors of the closets and your furniture. You smile at the sight, nuzzling against the crook of Sirius's neck.

Your fingers brush against his jaw and you can feel the thin cut that is slowly healing there.

"When are you supposed to go back to work?"

"Tired of having me around already?"

"I'm worried."

He heaves a sigh.

"I'm fine."

"I know."

"So... no need to worry!"

"You attract troubles better than jam can attract wasps in summer, Sirius. I ought to be worried all the time about you."

"I'm careful out there, you know?" He whispered, pressing his lips to your hair. "I'm not as reckless as I was back in the days of the Order. Things have changed since then. I have people to come home to now."

You smile, his fingers writing little I love yous on your forearm.

"I know. Still... I can't help it."

He hums, low sound born in the depth of his chest, and you feel it vibrate through your frame from under you.

Sometimes he takes risks, but that's just who he is. And you love him despite that.

You reach for his hand and trace along his wedding band with your thumb. You have made such a good life for yourself with him...

You reckon that he's right. For now, at least, he's here, in your arms, safe. Your children are studying safely in Hogwarts. And really, you don't understand why September is so sad these days, because you're as happy as you can be.

"You know what could make me feel better?" You ask, looking up at him with this adorable smile of yours that he adores.

"What?"

"KISSES!" You exclaim, making him laugh.

He doesn't protest though, instead, he gladly complies. How could he not, after all?

After a few kisses, he tries to break away, eyeing the coffees on the table.

"Coffee's growing cold," he mumbles against your lips, but you pull him in for another kiss, and there is no way he can keep his eyes open when you kiss him like that.

"Don't care," you're the one mumbling against his lips this time. "You're warm, though."

He chuckles, his forehead resting against yours while he trails his fingertips across your cheekbone.

"You're just using me cause you're cold, huh?" he asks, a playful and rather mischievous look in his eyes.

"Hey! You're the one who begged for my cuddles not two minutes ago!" you reply, faking outrage when you could barely keep a straight face.

"It's true. You've discovered my evil plan…"

You dramatically gasped.

"You are the one using me cause you're cold! And I thought you just loved to be held by me…"

Sirius lets out one of his loud laughs, the ones that sound a little like he barks more than laughs.

"I do, my love. I do love to be held by you."

He dives for another kiss, but you playfully escape, his lips landing on your chin instead.

"No! You're not nice, so no kisses."

"No kisses?"

He gently bit down on your chin, making you shriek in surprise and try to escape his embrace, but you're trapped in his arms, and there is no way for you to move away now. Besides, you don't really want to.

"Sirius… I will hex you."

"I know you're not… Sirius."

"Oh… by Merlin's grey beard, I can't believe that after all this time you still use this stupid pun," you groan.

"It's hilarious! I am hilarious!"

"You wish. Two decades, Sirius! For two decades I've heard that joke!"

"And yet, you love it."

"I don't love it."

"You do!"

"I don't."

"You love me, so it means you love my stupid jokes."

"You're insufferable."

"Well, maybe. But you signed up for it the day you kissed me in the dungeons while we were hiding from Minerva, so don't complain now."

"If I had known that day what kind of trouble that kiss would get me into, I might have reconsidered and let Minerva find me."

"Well, strange… cause you signed up for it again when you kissed me in Hogsmeade after our first date. And all the nights we spent in the room of requirement. And then when we moved in together. And when you said yes and married me. And the days you carried our babies… And right now, when you came to cuddle me and asked for kisses."

He has such a cheeky grin on his face and you want to make the cocky expression disappear. But you can't argue.

You have chosen him indeed. Every single day since that chase against McGonagall across the dungeons in your sixth year at Hogwarts. Every single day ever since, you have chosen to spend your life with him, and have never wished for anyone to be by your side in his stead.

And Agrippa, are you lucky that he kept on choosing you over and over again as well.

"So… are you sure you want to reconsider that choice you made so long ago?" he teases, knowing perfectly well the answer.

And you know how to fight back against this smudge look on his face. You have to kill him with honesty and love.

"No, I don't want to reconsider. I chose the love of my life that day, and I always will, no matter what."

His lopsided smirk vanishes in the blink of an eye, and instead, you can feel his heart beating faster in his chest. You can't feel though that Sirius suspects the organ might explode for holding so much love. And it's all for you. For you and your children, and the family you have built together.

"And I will always choose you too, you know?" he answers. "You're the best thing that has ever happened to me. I'll always love you."

Who would have thought he would be lucky enough to have you in his arms like this twenty years later? His teenager self who tried to play it cool while he was desperately falling for you wouldn't have, for sure.

You snuggle into his chest again, and while you cuddle, abandoning your coffees to grow cold, his eyes drift to the dark sky above and the angry rain hitting the windows.

Why is September so sad? How could it, when in your home, the world seemed so bright?

 ******************************************************************************

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[thatsjustrwde]

For the RWBY character prompt thing: you gotta tell me about Ironwood for sure! And if somebody already asked, how's about Qrow? :)

OH BABEY A DOUBLE (I’m gunna put Qrow in a separate post to avoid making this too long) thank you so much!

Warning: This is a PRO IRONWOOD POST. I also go into team RWBY taking responsibility for their abuse towards Ozpin. Don’t read this if you don’t like it. You’ve been warned

My top three two ships for Ironwood

1) Ironqrow (Ironwood x Qrow) {Volumes 3-7}

I have loved the idea of these two since the fall of beacon. When they first interacted, I wasn’t too sure about them because it seemed like they didn’t really like each other.. but that scene where all the robots were turning on beacon and Qrow spotted ironwood, ran at him with his scythe, only to jump over him and save him from a Grimm, sold the ship to me. It was clear that they didn’t actually despise each other. Qrow wasn’t quick to point fingers; he knew that what was going on wasn’t James’ fault, and he even tried to add a little bit of comic relief to the scene. (When ironwood’s ship fell, and Qrow smirked “well, it won’t be much of a walk”)

My love for the ship was reinforced in v6 (yeah I know it was the fan service volume but I’m rolling with it anyway). Qrow knew that they HAD to get to ironwood in order to complete their goal. He trusted James, and he knew that he was a smart and capable leader who would know what to do (ah,, the good old days ;;)

And then in the early episodes of v7, their bickering that we once saw in v3 was non existent. They were happy to see each other, and James even initiated a hug. He was just so relieved to see him ;; it made my heart melt, I remember posting about this moment so much, all over instagram and tumblr. I loved them so dearly.

2) Ironwood x Glynda (idk if they have a ship name)

God,, I always loved them. that scene in v2 with Ironwood and Glynda standing together in the dead of night looking over the city of vale was so special to me. I love Glynda and her character, she is so dynamic. that scene with her and ironwood showed to us that she truly respected and cared for him and his well-being. She was worried for him as well. I just wish they had more interactions before his death. they would have been very sweet and POWERFUL together.

My three least favourite ships for Ironwood

1) Ironqrow {Volumes 7-8}

Oh boy. RT really knows how to take something good and just, ruin it huh.

I feel as though I don’t need to dive too deep into this (as I’ll be covering Ironwood’s fall from grace later) but yeah... The fight with Qrow and Clover was.. unfortunate. Everyone seemed to lose their braincells in that scene, and the moment it was over, Qrow was dead set on killing Ironwood for some reason even though he was the one who decided to side with a literal murderer, but go off MKEK you really did something there...

Yepp this absolutely killed the ship for me in canon (though I stilln love thinking about them out of the canon setting), I was an absolute wreck after this scene. they deserved better.

2) Ironwood x Winter

don’t worry I’m not about to pull the “IRONWOOD WAS AN ABUSIVE FATHER FIGURE AND GROOMED HER CAREERRHYUGGHR” no.

I always saw Ironwood as a POSITIVE father figure to winter, even before v7. We knew that winter was one of his best soldiers, and was most likely one of his students before then. I believe that Ironwood gave winter a chance at something great, to leave her actual abusive father and hone her skills as a soldier instead of becoming the heiress to a company that she did not want to be tied to. I believe Ironwood was a stellar father figure and role model to her, and that is the reason why I do not ship them. their relationship was so much deeper than that. it was found family.

3) Ironwood x Salem

What the fuck. Like actually what? This was a thing? What is it with this fandom and glorifying abusive relationships... I remember seeing a lot of people trying to justify it like “awh salem was so sweet with him she just wanted him to stop fighting. She would leave him alone after!!” Thats manipulation honey, we don’t fuck with that here. no. Absolutely not

My biggest criticism for Ironwood

See: the reason I made this side blog

It’s no secret to us in the RWDE community that his fall into the role of the villain was POORLY WRITTEN AND WE ALL HATE IT SO FUCKING MUCH. where the hell did this even come from? oh I know! TEAM RWBY LYING TO HIS FACE AFTER HE WAS NOTHING BUT KIND AND GENEROUS TO THEM. god I’m heated already.

I’ve talked about his stupid semblance before but it doesn’t even matter because his semblance wasn’t the cause of his descent anyway. We were all HOPING that it was but nope! it was him “losing his humanity” because he lost his other arm. How fucked up is that.

Shitty writing aside, I know James had flaws even before the shitshow that was v7-8, but honestly there was nothing he did that I can criticize harshly. He was a good and honest man with good intentions and a pure, big heart made of gold. Of course he made mistakes and of course he wasn’t perfect, but he was always trying to do the right thing to protect the people. He was a good man until MKEK decided they needed a reason to kill off another headmaster.

My favourite thing about Ironwood

his MUSCLES

His willingness to sacrifice himself to save others. During the fall of beacon he told the students that they didn’t have to stay, even though he could have used the help greatly. But he KNEW that they weren’t ready to handle a crisis like this, and he didn’t want to force them into a responsibility that could have left them emotionally/physically damaged, or worse.

During the Ironwood and Watts fight, IRONWOOD MANGLED HIS OWN ARM TO CAPTURE WATTS. He was so headstrong and brave and he wanted to do everything he could to prevent Salem, even if that meant hurting himself and losing another part of himself. God I miss him so much ;; I’m tearing up a little writing all of this...

A head canon I have for Ironwood

I love creating head canons for characters, it always makes them feel more real to me. one of my biggest head canons is that, in a peaceful world setting, he would enjoy sleeping in on the weekends. ;;. He is a headmaster AND a general which means he has to follow a strict schedule all the time. Maybe this is coming from my desire to take care of him and make sure he is happy and healthy and not stressed out.. But yeah, lazy Sundays, sleeping in late. pls let him sleep he needs so much sleep. What I would change about Ironwood if I were making a rewrite

Strap in kiddos I’ve been thinking about this for a very long time. I’m sure that someone has come up with a similar concept, but I will share my ideas anyway (: I am going to preface this by saying that for this rewrite to work, we need to have Winter receive the Winter maiden powers from Freya in V7.  To start, we will have to go back all the way to v2 when Ironwood was first introduced. I would have Ozpin and Glynda share their concerns to each other about Ironwood bringing all of his ships to look over the festival, but I would take that time to thoroughly explain his semblance. His semblance is stupid, so I would make some changes. To start off, I wouldn’t make it passive. The way it is now is just,, a weird way to give him a mental illness without actually giving him a mental illness. Activating it would have to be a decision that he made if he knew that he had to make decisions that would be hard for him. This way if his semblance caused him to do something actually horrible, he would be directly accountable for it, instead of blaming him for something that he couldn’t control. Semblances are a representation of the user, so with time and with more stress put onto Ironwood, I could see him falling victim to his own semblance if he were to abuse it too much. This will help as we lead into a better way to write his fall from grace. 

From there, I would keep pretty much everything the same until we get to v7. Team RWBY arrives in Atlas and gets arrested and brought to Ironwood just as they do in canon. This time, however, we have Oscar explain EVERYTHING. No lying. Salem cannot be killed. Oscar explains that Ozpin shut himself off after team RWBY forced the truth out of him, and while the truth is a lot for Ironwood to handle, he understands why Ozpin kept it a secret. He shuns team RWBY for their methods and explains why their actions were unnecessary and abusive, but agrees to help them anyway since he knows that they all need to come together if this is going to work. Hence, his arc kind of goes backwards. Instead of team RWBY having his trust from the beginning, they will need to work to gain it back. 

He takes Oscar under his wing to try and draw Ozpin back out. He greets Qrow, they fall in love, he also formally introduces the team to the Ace Ops. The Ace Ops take an IMMEDIATE backseat in the story. We don’t need more characters. For the sake of this rewrite specifically, they are barely around. We are focusing on Ironwood and his growth/relationships. I would explore more times to show the deep connection between him and Winter. As I said earlier, I see him as a healthy father figure for her, so I would definitely focus on that for a bit. At this point, Winter would not have received the maidens power yet, so we could have a scene of him assuring her that she is a perfect fit for the role, and encouraging her and just,, you know, solidifying that he wasn’t pressuring her into doing it. 

Carrying on with the main plot, instead of being left in the dark for the whole season, Ironwood is already aware that Salem cannot be killed. This gives him and the rest of the team a lot of time to work on a new plan to defeat her. They spend lots of time training, Ironwood takes care of them, offering his resources to them. Overtime the team do start to gain his trust little by little again, but this will all kinda fall apart when Salem arrives. 

With stress levels higher than ever, he activates his semblance. Team RWBY and friends KNOW about his semblance and they understand why he is acting irrationally. Maybe they have different ideas than him, but they would not directly oppose him. This completely fixes him from becoming a cartoon villain. Team RWBY and friends would work WITH Ironwood at a distance to fix amity and get global communications back up safely. From there, Ironwood could deliver a message to the world about Salem. Since people know who he is, it will make the message more impactful. Just like he did with his message to Mantle.

Qrow and Winter are positives in his life. They keep trying to ground him and bring him back to reality, but he will not deactivate his semblance. He is too scared of what’s to come with Salem. They support him in this, and do not turn their back on him. 

Winter receives the maiden’s power, and is told to open the vault to obtain the staff and raise atlas further into the sky to save his people. Winter agrees, why wouldn’t she? They have already evacuated most of mantle to atlas anyway. In situations like this it’s impossible to save everyone. RWBY could whine and bitch if they wanted to, but there is nothing they could do in this situation because, for the sake of this rewrite, they wouldn’t be as stupid as they are in the canon proper. 

The vault is open and the staff is vulnerable. It is in this moment that the ACTUAL VILLIAN comes into play. Watts took advantage of the security from behind the scenes, giving Salem the exact time that the vault was open. And thanks to him overhearing everything, he knows that all she needs to do is use the staff, and Atlas will fall. Salem appears in the room, and the big finale battle would occur. They weren’t ready yet. They hadn’t finalized the plan to stop her without killing her. Team RWBY Oscar and Qrow would do their best to keep Salem distracted while Winter and Ironwood speak to the staff. Meanwhile, Neo could breach Ironwood’s office and retrieve the relic of knowledge for Salem. 

The battle plays out, she keeps coming back, the team gets tired, Salem loses her patience and just PLOWS through them to get to the staff. She enters the realm and the mystical world around them begins to shatter and break. With that much concentrated evil in this place coming up out of nowhere, it would be sure to shift the balance. 

She goes head to head against Winter and Ironwood for the staff. She knows that using the staff will cause Atlas to come crashing down, so that is exactly  what she does. Since he is already out, she just gives him a command. It doesn’t matter what it is. Atlas starts to fall. She strikes a lethal blow to Ironwood (Keeping the theme of her killing headmasters) and flees with the staff. Qrow runs to his side, he and winter are crying, Team RWBY is upset, OZPIN IS UPSET. With his aura broken and his semblance down, he smiles at them all, says that he is proud of them for their work and he knows that they will find a way to defeat her. He tells them to get out and save themselves, save as many people as they can. They do that, but for further angst, Qrow stays with him, holding him and crying against him as Atlas falls. Team RWBY use the gravity dust keeping Atlas falling slowly to their advantage. They get as many people as they can into airships and send them to mistral. They then make their own way to Vacuo... Since global communications are back up, the world would know about this. This would give Shade academy a good chance to prepare. (damn I could write a fic)

What I think of Ironwood’s allusion and what I would change.

It’s dumb the way that CRWBY has portrayed it. In the story of the Wizard of Oz, the tin man doesn’t have a heart, but learns to love overtime. I used THIS aspect for helping my rewrite of Ironwood. He was hardened at the beginning, but managed to trust again and eventually smiled and said that he was proud of team RWBY and friends in his dying moments. It’s just more impactful that way I think. 

[elduwrites]

Reminders That I Love You - Chapter 3

“Don’t be a brat.” Cas tugged his hair again. It was harder this time and lasted until a small moan escaped Dean’s lips. Then the contact was gone. Damn. He usually had more control than that. But they had been very busy, and angry with each other, lately. This was a welcome change of pace.

“Anyway, I believe in you.” Cas grinned. “Now be quiet, I need to concentrate on my work.”    

Also available on AO3

Word count: 4916 (story total: 7603)

Chapter 3/3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 

When Cas returned, Dean laid naked in the middle of the bed, legs spread and hands beneath his head. He grinned up at his boyfriend who stopped in the doorway for a while, just starring at him.

“See something you like?” Dean asked, letting his tongue dart over his bottom lip for good measure.

“Yes, you’re very beautiful Dean,” Cas replied matter-of-factly. Then he walked closer, keeping his eyes plastered to the man on the bed the entire time. “And you’re being very good for me.”    

“Not like you asked me to do anything complicated.” Dean looked away, lightly biting his lip. He wanted to be good, especially after the evening they had, but he had to earn it.

“The complexity of the task does not dictate how pleased I am when you succeed,” Cas said sternly as he sat down on the bed, leaning over the other man. “Some days I want you to prove just how good you can be for me. Today is not about that. For now, I want to remind you how wonderful you always are to me Dean. Even when you don’t see your own worth.”  

“What if I want, or need, to prove that I can be good for you?” His voice was small even to his own ears, but it needed to be said.

“Then that’s for another day.”

“But-”

“No,” Cas said firmly. “On Saturday I will have you collared on your knees with my cock in your mouth while I research my next paper, but I have a different plan for tonight. Are you going to be a brat and question my decisions, or will you be still and obedient like my good boy ought to?”

Dean swallowed hard, but kept his lips closed. Saturday could not come soon enough. But Cas knew what he needed, and what he could take. If he said that this wasn’t the day for proper play, then he was right. Of course he was. Dean looked up, meeting the others gaze and held it until his boyfriend smiled.

“Good,” Cas said. He ran one hand through Dean’s hair, tugging slightly before letting go. Dean leaned into the touch, whimpering slightly as it disappeared. “Remember these?” Cas pulled a bunch of pens out of his pocket. Except, these weren’t normal pens. They were the temporary tattoo markers they had bought for when Claire was desperate to draw on them. Cas had insisted that they were better for their skin than regular pens, and their niece was overjoyed with the vibrant colors that were much easier to cover their arms with.

“I remember,” Dean replied. How could he not? The guys at work always commented on his wonderful new tattoos whenever Claire had spent an artistic weekend at their place. They were rather hard to wash off too. Not that he really minded that part, it was usually a nice reminder of a good family weekend.

“I presumed you would. Now you’re going to lay back, relax, and stay as still as possible, while I cover your skin in all the reasons I love you.”

“Kinda hard both to relax and stay still,” Dean said. Mostly just to say something back to that declaration.

“Don’t be a brat.” Cas tugged his hair again. It was harder this time and lasted until a small moan escaped Dean’s lips. Then the contact was gone. Damn. He usually had more control than that. But they had been very busy, and angry with each other, lately. This was a welcome change of pace.

“Anyway, I believe in you.” Cas grinned. “Now be quiet, I need to concentrate on my work.”    

Dean took a few deep breaths, relaxing into the mattress as well as he could. Meanwhile, his boyfriend’s big hands ran down his chest, barely grazing his nipples, down his stomach and up his sides. He whimpered again, pushing up into the touch. Why had he denied himself this closeness for so long? Those hands on him were better than almost any sensations. Perhaps except for those fingers in him.

“So beautiful,” Cas said, leaving a small kiss slightly under his left nipple. It was followed by the familiar sensation of the marker on Dean’s skin. Familiar, but still different than when their niece was ‘making him pretty’ as she liked to call it. Cas’ hand seemed surer and less hesitant than Claire often was. And the skin of his sides and stomach was more sensitive than his arms and calves, which were usually the body parts decorated. As the pen stopped its motion, Dean looked down his body. Sure enough, the word beautiful was written in red over one of his ribs.

“Incredibly kind.” Cas left a kiss under the first word, then wrote with a new pen over that same spot. Soon the word kind shone out in orange letters.

“You’re so good with Claire, Madison and little Bobby. The best uncle and godfather anyone could wish for.” Another scribble over his skin. Dean focused on keeping his breathing even so as not to disrupt the others work. When he looked down again, amazing uncle, was written in bright yellow.

Another kiss, halfway down his side, then. “You’re so open and accepting of everyone who need it. I’ve never seen you judge anyone for anything other than being hateful assholes. And those people always deserve it.” The pen moved over his skin once more. As it stopped, Cas moved his hand to squeeze his hip lightly. Dean squinted at the newest word. It looked like it said accepting in deep green letters.

“Dude, are you making my stomach into a fucking rainbow?” Dean asked incredulously, while his boyfriend put down the green marker in favor of a blue one.

“Why are you surprised by this? I make everything into rainbows.” That much was true. After years of hiding his sexuality from overly religious parents, Cas had put all that repressed energy into buying and creating rainbow colored-everything. There were at least seven different flags, and far too many t-shirts. They had rainbow-colored throw pillows in many different designs, and a shower curtain decorated with a tree with rainbow leaves. There were rainbow coasters, cups, water bottles, and at least fifty different buttons and stickers. Everything Cas painted these days were either rainbow inspired, bees, flowers, or, somehow, all of the above. Dean had barely kept him from hanging up rainbow curtains in their living room. That shit was just tacky, and therefore banished to Cas’ office. The office that contained a stuffed rainbow unicorn next to the stuffed bee on top of the bookshelf. Not to mention the queer section of that bookshelf that had the books sorted by rainbow colors. So okay, this was not actually surprising. Still though…

“Don’t mean you have to make me into one.”

“Why does it bother you more that I’m writing in color that that I’m doing it in the first place? You seem to have your priorities mixed up sweetheart.”

“I dunno… It’s just real obvious is all.” That was a bad excuse. He was aware of that. It just felt different in all these colors than it would have otherwise. Even so, his boyfriend was right. It didn’t actually matter. So why’d it feel like a big deal?

“It’s not like anyone else is going to see you this way. Right Dean?”

“Of course not.” It was far too cold for him to go shirtless anywhere other than inside their house. And even during summer, he preferred to wear at least a t-shirt. Only Cas got to see him shirtless for long periods of time.

“Then why does it matter? I like you like this.”

“I dunno.” Dean looked away, biting lightly at his lip. It was hard to argue his point when he didn’t actually have any reasoning, and Cas was all cold logic. The rainbow thing wasn’t a problem either. Not really. He was just caught off guard was all. But there was no way he could admit that now.

“Do you know what I think?” Cas moved so his knees where on the other side of the other’s hips, rested his hands next to Dean’s head, and leant down so their faces were mere inches apart. “I think you’re trying to rile me up. I think you’re being difficult on purpose. This,” he ran his right hand down Dean’s side, stroking over the words, “doesn’t actually bother you. You’re just clinging to the only argument you could find because affectionate words make you uncomfortable. Perhaps you’re even angling for a punishment?”

Dean whimpered lightly at that. Trust his boyfriend to psychoanalyze him in a situation like this. As if they didn’t have better things to do than trying to get to the bottom of his issues. His fear of intimacy as both Cas and Charlie was so fond of calling it. This was not the time.

“Is that it Dean? Are you trying to make me be rough with you because that’s easier to deal with? Would you rather have me spank you till you’re a writhing mess or perhaps slap you hard enough that you’ll feel it for days?”

“Please.” He wasn’t sure what he was asking for, but his boyfriend seemed to have enough ideas of his own. As long as Cas gave him something.

“Too bad really, that I already told you we’re not doing that tonight.”

“Cas. Please.”

“I’m not changing my plans just because you’re being a brat,” Cas almost growled. “However, I can’t let that kind of behavior go completely unchecked either.”

“Please.” Dean repeated. By now it could be called pleading, almost begging. His boyfriend usually liked that, was more likely to fulfill his wishes when he asked nicely. But it didn’t seem like he was budging this time. His expression was blank, not betraying any of his thoughts. Would whatever he was planning be good or bad? Well, it was always good with Cas, but sometimes that also meant torturous. Then again, that was often the best of all.  

Cas suddenly sat up until he was kneeling over him. Then he ran his hands slowly down the other’s shoulders and chest, stopping to pay extra attention to his nipples. Dean swallowed the groan that wanted to erupt as both his nipples were pinched hard.

“Don’t be quiet on my account,” Cas said, pinching even harder. Then he let go off the left one, only to bend down and bite it. Dean moaned, arching his back into the pleasure-pain sensation.

“There you go. Keep making those pretty sounds for me,” Cas grinned down at him before leaning in to capture his lips in a rough kiss. Dean quickly opened up for him, allowing his boyfriend to dominate his mouth completely. As the kiss broke off, Cas moved so sit next to him on the bed again, one hand resting comfortingly on his stomach. Dean put weight on his elbows, wanting to follow, but one sharp look from the other man made him rest back onto the bed. That earned him a soft smile and a gentle hand playing with his hair.

“Touch yourself for me,” Cas said, giving a significant gaze down to the others cock, then back up to his eyes. Dean starred at him for a moment before he followed the order, slowly jacking himself off. This seemed too simple. Was this evening really all about pleasure? And affection or whatever?

“Faster. Put some effort into it.”

Dean fastened his grip and speed his movement to a pace that would have him desperate in no time.

“Good boy,” Cas murmured into his ear. “Tell me when you’re close.”

Oh. Of course. Dean closed his eyes, jerking himself in all the ways he enjoyed the most. Firm grip. Fast movements. A twist of his wrist on every third or fourth upstroke. Pausing for a moment to run his thumb over the slit, coaxing more pre-cum to ease his movements. He was hurdling steadily towards an orgasm, feeling his boyfriend’s heavy gaze on him the entire time.

“’M close,” he moaned out.

“Stop. Hands on the bed.”

Dean quickly followed the order, breathing hard as he tried to calm down. He whimpered sightly at the receding orgasm. It was so close, but far out of his grasp.

“So good for me,” Cas murmured, then leaned down to kiss his stomach. “I love seeing you like this. So desperate to please.”

Dean smiled, relaxing further into the bed. He was still on edge, desperate for release, but it seemed somehow less important. He was pleasing Cas, and his boyfriend would surely take care of him.

A sudden feeling of a marker over his skin almost made him flinch, but he managed to stay still as not to mess up the other man’s work. Peering down, he saw his boyfriend with a blue marker in hand, obviously continuing where he had left off earlier.

“Cas? What?”

“You didn’t think I was done, did you? I already told you I wasn’t changing my plans. I don’t like leaving my projects half-finished.”

“I guess not.” It certainly had seemed like he’d changed his plans. Dean really should have known better. When Cas first made up his mind, he stuck to it. He peered down at his stomach, seeing desperate to please written under the green accepting.

“Dean. Look at me.” Cas laid a hand on his cheek and starred intently at him as their eyes met. “Indulge me in this. Let me show you affection. You deserve to be loved.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Dean tried to look away, but the other’s eyes were captivating, holding his gaze steady. “Indulge yourself or whatever.”

“Imprudent boy,” Cas smacked his hip lightly. “I want to worship you, just let yourself enjoy it.” With that he picked up a purple marker, putting the tip of it against the skin right above Dean’s hipbone.

“You deserve to be loved,” Cas repeated while writing what was probably the same words into the other’s skin. Dean barely suppressed a shiver as those words finally washed over him. How many times had Cas told him that by now? And how many more times had he found himself doubting it?

“Now continue touching yourself.”

Dean’s hand moved almost on autopilot, wrapping around his cock and jacking it with sure movements. He kept his eyes open this time, taking in all the emotion in his boyfriend’s eyes. No one could convey emotion through a look quite like Cas. And he was using that ability now to express all the love he insisted that Dean deserved. It was enough to make a guy believe him.

Pleasure built up within him even faster this time around. He jerked off until he was moments away from orgasm before he moaned out that he was close.

“Stop.”

His movement stilled immediately, but he clutched the base of his cock for a few deep breaths before he was calm enough to place his hand back on the bed. Perhaps even closer than Cas would have taken him if the former had been doing the touching.    

“You’re doing remarkably well.” Cas left a kiss to each of his cheeks and the tip of his nose. Dean whimpered in return, struggling to keep himself from pleading for release. He really needed to come. Preferable five minutes ago. Instead, his boyfriend took up the red marker again, and started writing on the right side of his stomach. Dean couldn’t find the energy to read the words anymore, but it was impossible to ignore the several times Cas murmured “good boy” into his skin while he kissed around the new words. In return, Dean let out an undignified sound somewhere between a whimper and a moan. He was being good.

“Yes. Good boy with his pleasing sounds.” Cas smiled down at him, while stroking over his stomach in small circles. “And you are so good to everyone Dean. You care so much. I’m in awe of the love you show to all the people around you. Such a wonderful, caring man.” There were more pen scratches and kisses against Dean’s stomach. This time he simply breathed through it, letting the words and affectionate touches wash over him.

“Not to mention the love you put into your food. Before you, I mostly ate just to sustain myself. Now I do it for pleasure as well. You taught me that through your food, you’re such an amazing cook Dean.” More writing on his skin. More fingers tracing patterns on his stomach. More kisses to his side and chest, followed by a sharp bite to one nipple. He arched into it, chasing the mouth as it moved away. His boyfriend chuckled and pushed him back down with a flat hand on the middle of his stomach.

“Touch yourself again.”

He did. With fast strokes, spurred on by the hands exploring his body. Every time Cas pinched his skin or twisted a nipple, he moaned loudly. All the touches went straight to his dick, and within a couple of minutes he was writhing on the bed, barely able to contain the orgasm.

“’M so close. Please Cas.”

“Stop. Now.”

His movements stopped, but he looked pleadingly up at the other man. “Please Cas. I can’t… I need to come.”

“Patience sweetheart. You can wait. And you will.”

Dean whimpered again, but kept his mouth shut. There was no use arguing with Cas’ decisions. He had made that mistake in a similar position once before. That night he was not allowed to come at all. Taking several deep breaths calmed him enough to remove his hand, and finally look up at his boyfriend once more.

“Good boy. Now, where were we?” Cas looked down at his writing, tracing the words with a gentle finger. At that point, even the small gesture was enough to push Dean towards the edge. He shook with self-restraint, clutching the sheets hard and focusing on his breathing.

“Oh yes,” Cas continued in an even voice. “You, Dean Winchester, is one of the most selfless people I have ever met. You give so much of yourself to others. You say yes to helping out whenever the chance occurs, with no regard for how it will affect you. Every fiber of your being seems determined to change the world for the better. Your selflessness was one of the first things I noticed about you.”

“You’re way too articulate,” Dean half-moaned, earning him another chuckle. Then the pen was back, tracing over his skin. Followed by warm lips, copying the pattern of the letters. Every point of contact sent tingles through his already over-sensitive body, forcing small sounds of out him.

“You keep me grounded and sane. I’ve spent so much of my life with my head in the clouds, not really wanting to partake in the world around me. You changed that by showing me how good reality can be. I want to experience real life with you Dean.”

The statement was followed by more pen scratches, then kisses to his stomach, up his chest, and then peppering his face. Dean whimpered, lifting one hand to clutch at the others arm. A tear found his its way down his cheek, but was soon kissed away. It was all too much.

“Shhhh, just one more thing now,” Cas murmured into his skin. “You are doing so well for me.” Their lips met in a long, soft kiss that swallowed all the sounds coming out of Dean’s throat. Then Cas moved to write a last word on his stomach with slow, steady movement. As the pen disappeared, one hand traced all the words on his torso while his boyfriend left three small kisses to his stomach, chest, and forehead.

“Do you want to know what it says?” Cas asked, his lips curling into a smirk. Dean inclined his head in a way that was meant to be a nod. Apparently it was enough, as his boyfriend continued. “It says excellent cocksucker. The things you do with your mouth are downright sinful.” Dean almost chocked on air at those words, and his lips fell open of their own accord. Cas took the opportunity to push two long fingers into his mouth.

“Suck.” That was a command he didn’t really need. Closing his lips around anything Cas put between them was second nature by now. His boyfriend had a borderline obsession with that part of his body. Not that Dean would ever complain. It fit perfectly with his own love of having his mouth filled. Oral fixation Cas sometimes called it, his voice always filled with awe or deep pleasure. “Now touch yourself.”

He was slower to follow the command this time, more focused on the fingers pushing slowly in and out of his mouth. Even so, his entire body lit up with pleasure as his hand wrapped around his dick. It only took a few pumps before he was back on edge again. Cas was tugging at his hair and moving his fingers steadily faster and harder into his mouth. Dean almost gagged a few times, but forced himself to relax. The pleased expression on his boyfriend’s face was more than worth it. Pleasure built with every jerk of his hand, and every movement of Cas’ fingers. He was hurdling towards an orgasm, and this time it didn’t feel like he could stop. Moaning around the fingers, he tried to say that he was close, but it came out as a garbled mess. Fuck. He was so close, but he didn’t have permission to come. And he didn’t have permission to stop jerking off. Starring up, he tried to convey his desperation, tried to plead with his eyes. It was hard to focus on anything else than delaying his orgasm, the world seeming hazy around him. As such, he didn’t notice Cas’ face coming closer until a dark voice whispered into his ear.

“Come for me Dean.”

Two more jerks of his hand and he did just that. The orgasm tore through him, almost making him black out. His whole body convulsed in pleasure as cum coated his stomach. It was so good. Cas always made it better than he managed by himself. Even when he technically was doing all the work himself. He kept jerking in slow movements, drawing out the orgasm while he slowly came back to himself. Soon he grew oversensitive, but kept up the movement until strong fingers wrapped around his own and dragged his hand away. He sighed in relief and pure exhaustion, blinking up at the man above him.

“Hello Dean,” Cas murmured with a pleased smile. “You did perfectly for me.” Dean blushed at that, looking away. That only earned him slightly annoyed sound from the man above him before his face was peppered with kisses. “One day you will believe my praise.”

“One day yeah. Maybe.”

“You will. I intend to remind you of it as often as necessary until you do.” The statement was followed up with more soft kisses to Dean’s face, and a hand carting through his hair. Sighing contently, he leaned into that touch. This was, possibly, his favorite part. Cas was always so affectionate after sex. All soft touches and endless skin-to-skin contact. And like this, during the afterglow, Dean allowed himself to drown in it. Except, they weren’t both basking in the afterglow. With more effort than he was ready to admit, he lifted a hand up to Cas’ hip, squeezing lightly.

“Want me to get you off too?” He asked with a grin, eyes slowly drifting down the others body.

“Not tonight. I already got all I wanted.” He did this every once in a while. Actually, he did it rather often. As if he got more pleasure from getting Dean off than actually having an orgasm of his own. It wasn’t anything Dean could pretend like he understood, but Cas surely knew his own wants best. He was certainly direct enough about shoving his cock down the others throat when he felt like it.

“You’re sure?” Dean met the other’s gaze again, searching for any shred of indecision there.

“Yes Dean. I just wanted to watch you come apart. I might, however, fuck you in the morning.”

“Yeah. Okay. Awesome.” He grinned again, probably looking dopey as hell, as he relaxed back into the bed again. This time determined to stay put. Everything was right with the world again. Well, except for the rapidly drying pool of cum on his stomach, but that was a problem for future-Dean. That guy had energy for all sorts of things.

“I’ll get a washcloth,” Cas said as he stood up from the bed. Because he was freaking perfect. Dean told him as much, causing a fond smile to appear on his boyfriend’s face. Cas’ hand found his, giving one last squeeze as he started to turn away. Pain flared from Dean’s knuckles at the contact, making him flinch. His boyfriend froze at that, starring down at him.

“Dean? What?” Cas dragged his hand close, inspecting the tender area closely. His face turned from confused to worried, eyes scrunching up in familiar fashion. Dean looked at the hand as well. Now that they gave it attention, it was obvious that it was red and slightly swollen. A miracle that it hadn’t been noticed before. “Dean what happened?”

“Umm… I got into a fight with the shower wall.” The last thing he needed was for his boyfriend to blame this on himself. Sure, it happened because Dean was angry about their fight, but that was on him. Neither of them needed Cas to deal with any misplaced guilt over that.

“You got into a fight with the shower wall,” Cas repeated slowly.

“Not my finest moment.”

“Dean,” Cas sighed. “You need to take better care of yourself.”

“I know.”

“You can’t hurt yourself just because we fight.”

“I know.”

“Next time you decided to fight an inanimate object, please make it a verbal match. That one you at least have a chance to win.”

“That’s uncalled for.” Dean tried to scold his face into annoyed, but couldn’t keep a smile from breaking out. Apparently Cas was not in a lecturing, or self-hating, mood. This was going much better than expected.

“You know I’m right.” Cas smiled lightly, then looked more serious again. “Does it hurt?”

“Nothing I can’t handle man.”

“Dean.”

“Yeah. A bit.”

“Okay.” Cas nodded solemnly, then put his hand down and turned towards the door. “Wait here.” With that, he left the room, leaving Dean to study his knuckles. They didn’t look that bad really. He’d damaged them much worse on several occasions, but he’d mostly outgrown that part of his life. That was a teenage and early-to-mid-twenties thing. Which was probably why they looked more painful than they really should, they were no longer hardened by abuse. Or maybe he’d just hit that wall harder than intended. He shook his head lightly and laid the hands back on the bed. It didn’t matter now anyway. With a yawn, he closed his eyes, making himself more comfortable.

He was almost asleep when Cas returned, so he just grunted noncommittedly as a greeting. Sleep seemed more important than anything. Until a bag of freaking ice was dropped on his knuckle. His eyes flew open, and he starred down at the offending item. His boyfriend gave him an amused glance as he placed an ice bag on his other knuckle as well. Okay, they weren’t actually ice bags. When Dean looked closer, he saw they it was frozen peas partly packed into a dish towel. That didn’t change the fact that they felt like big bags of ice.

“Why?” He grunted, giving the pea bags a dirty look.

“Because you refuse to take care of yourself, so someone has to.” He couldn’t exactly argue with that. Instead he sighed, watching as Cas took a warm washcloth to his stomach, wiping off all the dried cum.

“You’re really confusing my senses here.”

“Sorry sweetheart.” Cas gave him a quick kiss to his forehead, before throwing the washcloth towards a corner, turning off the light, and getting into bed. Moving around with the freaking pea bags was complicated, but his boyfriend was efficient as always when cuddling was involved. Soon their legs were tangled, a comforter pulled over them, and Cas had an arm around his waist and head resting between his chest and shoulder.

“I’m glad you came back,” Dean murmured into the darkness, half-hoping the other wouldn’t hear him. Of course, he had no such luck.

“Me too. And Dean?”

He hummed lightly in response.

“I promise to be better at reminding you how much I love you. Maybe even stop walking out every time our fights get too intense. But you have to stop pushing me away.”

“Yeah I…. Fuck, I’m sorry Cas. I’ll do my best.” He took a deep breath, starring into the darkness of the room. “And I love you too. You know that, right?”

“I do. Most of the time.”

“Well I love you all the time,” Dean insisted, then gave his boyfriend an awkwardly placed kiss on his forehead. It seemed like he had to get better at those reminders too. He looked into nothing for several long minutes while Cas’ breathing turned heavy, soon making way for soft snores. Shaking off one of the pea bags, Dean circled an arm around his boyfriend, holding him close as sleep finally took him as well.

[livlepretre]

The thing about your character interpretation of Elena is that you really draw from her initial core traits and character arcs. I think some people might disagree with you about interpretation because they are remembering Elena from the later seasons. It is like if you wore a slightly different colored shirt everyday for a few months. You could start out with a blue shirt and end with a yellow one, but everyone would be under the impression you have been wearing the same colored shirt the whole time. Season 5 is the start of this skewed view of Elena, I believe. I think this has a lot to do with the fact that she was A.) a vampire and B.) less involved with the main conflict of the season. Sure, the plot of season 5 had a lot to do with doppelganger destiny and whatnot, but think about how that plot relates to Elena throughout the season. What was she doing to stop Augustine Society? If it were season two or three Elena, she would have probably used her charm and familial connections to the society to infiltrate them and find a way to shut them down. But season 5 Elena is barely involved in anything. In fact, her screen time decreases dramatically this season. I just scrubbed through an episode to fact check what Elena was doing, and she was in like 5 scenes. However, Nina Dobrev herself appeared in way more scenes as Katherine. I think having Nina Dobrev playing 2 main characters in one season was an extremely difficult bad idea. Having two doppelgangers as main characters would be awesome in a written story (like in but still, like dust, i’ll rise by twocankeepasecret), but with a live action format where both characters have to be played by one actress, it just isn’t feasible. The vampire aspect also made all scenes Elena was in kind of boring. She didn’t really have to come up with anything interesting because she could now physically fight with her enemies. The episode where Qetsiyah traps her and Stefan in a lake house could have been interesting, but the problem was solved by them stabbing her and then superspeeding out of the building. Jesse attacks Damon two episodes later and Elena solves the problem by just superspeeding up to them and staking him in the back. It takes all the fun out of how Elena goes about doing things. Season six marks the first season without any doppelganger relevance. Elena is compelled to lose all good memories of Damon, and that could have been interesting. Since Elena was specifically compelled to hate Damon in a way that wouldn’t make her miss him, we could have seen how Elena deals with him after he comes back. This is an Elena who believes she didn’t forgive Damon for killing her brother. That could have been an interesting arc to see, but no. Elena falls in love with him like 4 episodes later, so did it even really matter? The point is, I think people have a hard time seeing Elena as she used to be because the audience really stopped getting to see those traits of hers in the later seasons. Her prominence in the narrative, and the obstacles that she had to overcome sort of disappear until the Elena that you’re looking at doesn’t resemble the one you started with. That is why you're an absolute gem to this fandom. Your stories all feature a post season 3 Elena who retains her character traits. Your gift of creating complex emotional conflicts proves that in a show like TVD, you don’t have to keep going bigger and badder. Sometimes the best way to expand the plot is to make the conflict more personal and utilize the characters and relationships established throughout the previous seasons. Elena’s arc throughout FE, especially the isolation arc, is a perfect example of this. Moments like Elena trying to will Klaus to come back, having her miscarriage, and almost accidently drowning are all heartwrenching, and it makes the scenes like her deciding to make the most of her life/ falling for Rebekah (her once tormentor) so much more rewarding. This was entirely too long, but just know, you are seriously my fav fanfic author, and your takes and analysis are always welcome here.

I'm actually a bit overwhelmed by this, thank you so much for sending this in. I agree with you so completely that a lot of the issue seems to be that Elena's characterization does change radically-- I don't really recognize her in seasons 5 & 6-- which is why I largely ignore them when writing for her character. (And that's what fanfic is for-- taking the pearls and chucking out the clots of dirt.) Seasons 1-3 Elena is an entirely different character, the true version of the character, in my opinion-- since she was at this point still the main character on the show, and a force of agency and plot development. You've also articulated something which drives me wild about the later seasons once she becomes a vampire-- super speed plus super strength basically negate the need for Elena to find interesting and twisty ways to solve her problems-- she no longer has to scheme and seduce and take insane risks, because she has supernatural powers. She no longer needs to make back room secret deals with giants who could crush her, or stab herself or slit her own throat in wild gambles, or even just to charm people-- and that takes away a key element of her character. Which is such a shame, because we see Katherine displaying these same traits as a vampire, and we can see that Katherine is the natural culmination of where Elena is heading, which is so dark and so fascinating in those early seasons. I agree completely with your analysis of what went wrong with the later seasons, and why the earlier seasons really worked for Elena as a character, and why fandom has such a bad taste in its mouth about where Elena ended up do to some truly bizarre and unfortunate storytelling decisions.

And-- gosh-- thank you x a million for your comments on FE. I am so appreciative and cannot wait to share the rest of the story with you!!

[innovativestruggles]

Daisuke & Suzue’s Relationship - A Consolidation Post

Hey gang, so given that we have 2 episodes left and absolutely zero idea as to what Daizue’s relationship is, I have decided to put together a spectrum of information. A lot of the stuff I am posting here have already been speculated to some degree, but it is nice to have it all in one big post where you can see what’s been gathered so far.

When I write about speculations, I always base everything on canonical evidence. Of course, there will be elements of personal bias and opinions intermeshed within, but I will try and separate facts from opinions as much as possible so that you can also draw your own conclusions.

For the purpose of this post, I will exclude all novel content, considering the anime is vastly different from the novel. I will start with the OP and work my way towards Episode 9. Originally I was going to wait until Episode 10 to complete this post, but I decided that it probably wouldn’t matter, considering Daizue’s relationship may not be revealed until Episode 11 and they most likely would be focusing on the battle with Shigemaru in Episode 10 rather than delve any deeper into Daizue’s relationship.

WARNING: This is a long post

The Opening

I want to look at this from the perspective of a complete newbie, who has zero knowledge of the novel or what the fandom is speculating. When looking solely at the OP, this is how it is seen;

1. Suzue is a beautiful character who is heavily sexualised

2. The show centres around a handsome rich boy with unlimited money

3. Selling the idea of sassy detective work

Suzue plays the perfect Bond girl trope. From the way she is shown in the OP in lingerie, to being tied to Daisuke’s car, to being bridal carried at the very end. As a newbie watching this OP, all I see is, hot rich guy and his hot, sexy, gorgeous sidekick woman whom he develops a sexual relationship with. 

If we all take a step back and just see the bigger picture, anyone, including non-anime watchers, who look at this OP would immediately associate Daisuke and Suzue as some sort of couple/love interests or two characters with immense sexual tension. There is no doubt about that.

So what am I trying to say here? Well, it is clear as day that the FKBU creators were deliberate in the way they showcased Daizue’s relationship. The OP is a foreshadow of what is to come or it implies the way the entire show is set out. 

But y’know...to me, the biggest foreshadow was that bridal carry!

Oops...wrong one...I meant this one below 😏

Episode 2

We are skipping Episode 1 as Suzue did not debut until Episode 2.

1. Suzue’s introduction She introduced herself as Suzue Kambe. That was it. Normally, whether it be in an anime or manga, a person would introduce themselves and their relationship (whether directly or indirectly), to another character. This was deliberately left out to keep viewers guessing.

2. Daisuke’s non-existent response Daisuke did not elaborate on his relationship with Suzue. Remember when Haru said something along the lines of “a woman with black hair entered this building,” to which Daisuke replied “woman with black hair you say?” There was no further explanation of who Suzue was to him or how they knew each other, or what sort of relationship they have.

3. Haru’s question was diverted When Haru asked Suzue, “who the hell are you?” Suzue’s response was “I’ve been following Daisuke’s orders...” Again, no further elaboration/explanation. The question was also diverted and she did not properly answer his question.

4. Haru’s assumption Haru made the assumption, as we found out in Episode 4, that Suzue and Daisuke are married. But this was not explored at the time in Episode 2. Again, another deliberate attempt to conceal information, considering we did not even get to see Haru’s assumption of Daizue’s relationship at the time.

5. Suzue’s use of Daisuke’s name No use of nii-san or nee-chan to indicate a sibling relationship and no honourifics were used. The interesting thing here was, Suzue was shown to drop the honourifics from Daisuke’s name in only this episode. Whether it was a mistake or a deliberate attempt to drip feed viewers information at the time, we don’t know. But let’s just say it was a deliberate attempt on the creators part - it needs to make sense. What I’m trying to say here is that Suzue should be in a relationship close enough to Daisuke to be able to drop the honorific but also be in a professional/lower position to continue addressing him with ‘sama.’ So in essence, Daisuke and Suzue’s relationship is most likely more complex than meets the eye.

6. Suzue’s professionalism Daisuke and Suzue’s relationship is too formal and professional to be considered to be some kind of sibling/family/close relative situation. Suzue works for Daisuke. That is the end point. She follows his every instructions and obeys all his orders. Even if she were a Kambe, she has to be a very, very, very distant relative to even submit to that level of obedience. If she were a closer relative but of a lower ranking than Daisuke’s family, there is absolutely no way she would be put in such a subservient position (more on this later).

Based on the 6 above points, personally, what I see is a deliberate attempt to create drama amongst fans lmao! But jokes aside, you cannot take it on face value that they are just relatives (or siblings at the time when it was first released) because as you can see, there are so many clues in this episode alone that does not make any sense.

Episode 3

Suzue only made a brief appearance here but I’d like to add a couple things.

1. Grandma’s focus on Daisuke Grandma barely acknowledged Suzue, and given that Suzue herself is a Kambe, I find this incredibly odd. Grandma was very focused on Daisuke, from his work relationship to his behaviour, and Suzue was...ignored.

2. Grandma explicitly stated to Haru about Daisuke that she is “his grandma” This piece of information was only available in the English subtitles. Remember that in Japanese language, there is no ‘his’ or ‘her.’ It is gender neutral. But I take it that the subtitles are official subtitles which gave us a bit more of a clue into Daizue’s relationship. We know at this stage here that Grandma is only Daisuke’s grandma and not Suzue’s.

With the above 2 points, if Suzue were a sibling or a closer relative, there would be more focus on her too. And I know the show is about Daisuke and Haru, so why would Suzue get any attention? But precisely this is the reason! Because the show centres a lot around the Kambe family conflict and you would think Suzue would be more involved in this conflict if she were closely related. But she is not involved. To me, this just screams outsider. Poor Suzue.

Episode 4

Alright, here we go on this roller coaster episode. 

1. Suzue addressed Daisuke as ‘Daisuke-sama.’ Kudos to know this because no bloody sibling would say this shit to their elder sibling. So that theory has been written off long ago now. 

Anyways I’d like to point out that there are times where lower members of a family, known as ‘branch’ families, would address the head family with polite honourifics. It’s quite rare nowadays in modern Japan, but in saying that, richer more exclusive families may still tend to do this and some still fight over the title of head of family. So in essence, anyone who succeeds as head of family (together with their immediate family) will obviously be addressed with polite honourifics. 

Just to let you know, branch families can either be closer relatives or very, very distant relatives (so distant that it is negligible they are related to the head family). We don’t know how big the Kambe family is and what the dynamics are like when it comes to the next successor. The bigger the family, the more likely members will want to fight over the title for head of family - usually once when the current head of family and their immediate family are all dead. What I’m trying to point out here is that Suzue may well still be a relative (I’m not gonna deny that during this first point I’m making), considering the above explanation I just made.

2. Daisuke did not elaborate on the type of relative Suzue was to him Another obvious one here. The creators love playing games with the viewers. The fact that Daisuke did not elaborate on his relationship with Suzue was a huge red flag. In the sense that we do not know whether Suzue is a close relative, a distant relative, married into the Kambe family or adopted. The creators are still keeping the viewers guessing!

3. Daisuke’s body language and expression This may be more opinionated base, but you can make judgements for yourself by rewatching the scene again. When Daisuke tells Haru that Suzue is a relative, there was almost a stilted, discomforting demeanour, as if he did not want to discuss the topic. This was heavily exacerbated and reinforced by his tone of voice, which may indicate he could be hiding something?

4. Haru’s assumption that Daisuke and Suzue are married Considering the fandom thinks Daizue look so similar, Haru clearly didn’t. So on his end, they looked more like husband and wife than siblings or relatives..

5. Suzue’s infatuation with Daisuke It was too obsessive. Lovey dovey and just ... plain questionable. I mean, Suzue could still be a relative and do this but the way it was set up was very jarring. As in, Suzue displays a sense of professionalism and obedience towards Daisuke that screams master and servant - not infatuation. 

Normally in anime shows where a character is infatuated over another, there isn’t that simultaneous level of professionalism displayed between the characters. So whether the character is a relative or not, it would be believable. But in Suzue’s case, professionalism + infatuation + relative does not make any sense to me. Also, Do NOT confuse loyalty with professionalism! They are two separate things. Suzue displays both! Characters you see in other anime may display loyalty and infatuation. The biggest incongruence to me with regards to Suzue is the infatuation and professionalism!

From something like this...

To something like this...

6. Suzue attended to Daisuke’s everyday needs Honestly if this wasn’t the most jarring thing, I seriously don’t know what was. I swear, not even the lowest member of a branch family would attend to a head family’s every day needs like a servant/maid. It makes no sense. Considering Daisuke is rich enough to have multiple maids that could attend to his every day needs, and that his butler Hattori could probably do what Suzue does, I do not understand the need for Suzue to do all these personal things for Daisuke.

7. The anime creators deliberately did this episode in a way that would confuse fans even more When you add: Daisuke saying “Suzue is a relative” + Suzue’s weird infatuation + addressing Daisuke with ‘sama’ = you are going to get the biggest explosion of confusion. 

It almost felt like the creators wanted to balance things out for the viewers. That is, “I want Daisuke to say Suzue is a relative, but I also don’t want the viewers to think she is a relative either.” There you go, they nailed it with this episode.

8. Daisuke cooked for Suzue At first I didn’t think much of this scene other than Daisuke’s weird way of making up to Suzue for being petulant LOL. But then I thought about how Grandma and butler were just standing there, uninvited to eat food made by Daisuke...it just goes to show that Daizue’s relationship runs a lot deeper than meets the eye. More important than Grandma that is for sure.

Episodes 5 and 6

Suzue did not make much of an appearance in these two episodes, but what I continued to see was the undying loyalty and continued professional relationship between Daisuke and Suzue. Despite Suzue’s injury in Episode 5, she continued to assist Daisuke (or tried to) in a manner that screams ‘I am forever your servant. Ask and ye shall receive’ kinda vibe LOL 

When she knows Daisuke is safe, Suzue keeps her cool, calm demeanour and powers on with the professionalism, but that weird infatuation kicks in otherwise... what an odd relationship they have...

Episode 7

1. The lack of Suzue in the family photos No Suzue could be seen in the family album. And yes, some people pointed out the baby in the ‘pink’ onesie was Suzue. Could be. But highly doubt it. Someone mentioned that the onesie used to be red but faded over time to a pinkish colour because it has been more than 27 years. That’s also a plausible explanation. Tbh, that entire photo album just screamed Daisuke.

2. All other photos pointed to the fact that Daisuke was raised as an only child No Suzue present or any indication that she was there at the time those photos were taken

Episode 8

Oh boy, the fun episode LOL

1. You can try and see it both ways here.

a. Suzue was just trying to warn Daisuke about HEUSC. That was all. Nothing else.

b. Definitely fanservice. Suzue could have done this in so many other ways. It was obviously a deliberate part on the creators’ side to bring forth a sexually suggestive scene that really further questions Daizue’s relationship. And the way they zoomed in on certain features (yeah we love their lips almost touching and Suzue’s ass in the air whilst her legs were pressed in between Daisuke’s) perhaps suggested something more explicit between the two (or implied to be in the future), but then again, the zooming in of their lips could just emphasise HEUSC’s ability to lip read rather than anything sensual. But ya know, I reckon it probably was both. 

Again, this whole scene puts more question marks on their relationship as to ‘What kind of relatives are they?’ or ‘Are they really relatives?’ or ‘What is their true relationship?’

**

Zooming in on Suzue moving her ass and legs in between Daisuke was completely unnecessary unless they are implying something sexual. Yeah goodbye.

This was obviously more necessary to describe HEUSC’s ability to lip read...but the way it was zoomed in and emphasised between them...

2. The creators made Haru see Daizue walk out the room A hugely obvious attempt at forwarding Daizue’s relationship. I mean, putting Haru in that position completely threw the spanner in the works. He was obviously informed by Daisuke that Suzue “is just a relative,” yet he saw them walk out from Daisuke’s bedroom looking all...well...looking like they just had the most amazing time in there. 

Even though it was obvious to us viewers what Haru was thinking, we were never shown Haru questioning the situation in relation to ‘Wait a minute, didn’t Daisuke say she was a relative? What the f did I just see then?’ We don’t get that point of view from Haru so we don’t know what he was speculating in relation to their relationship. I mean, Haru could just be as confused as we were! The only advantage Haru got over us viewers was that he could have just asked them for more clarity around their relationship. Clearly he was just being too polite lmao

3. Daizue did not attempt to clarify the situation I mean, unless they were both stupid and seriously thought Haru wouldn’t think they got up to no good, despite it being so clear as day that Haru thought otherwise, they did not say anything. Again, another deliberate part on the creators’ side to create further confusion. They really like making Daizue keep their mouths shut when it comes to anything to do with their relationship backstory...

**

The creators went one step further and made Daisuke adjust his shirt. LOLOL

And even further by making Suzue’s hair all messy and dishevelled...

4. Suzue mentioned ‘your father and mother’ to Daisuke when discussing HEUSC Big red flag here that would completely forever bury the sibling theory. It sounds to me that Daisuke and his family are very separate from Suzue.

Episode 9

We are in the present now!

1. Daisuke tells Grandma that only the Kambe family, that is, he himself and Grandma, could infiltrate the system This may imply that Suzue is not a true Kambe or she may have been adopted into the family. It would also help discredit the theory that she may be a lower ranking member of the Kambe family/a branch family of the Kambe. It may also imply that Daisuke may have been hiding something from Haru about Suzue when he said ‘Suzue is a relative’ or he was outright lying.

Other materials

Their appearances

On surface level, they do have some similarities but if you look a bit closer, their eye colour is different (Daisuke’s is a deep blue and Suzue’s is more violet), hair colour is different (Daisuke’s is more black and Suzue’s is more charcoal) and eye and eyebrow shape are different. Tbvh, if they made Suzue’s eye and hair colour completely different, you would see the contrast more. It’s just that the creators deliberately designed the two this way to evoke more confusion.

Concluding opinion: It is obvious to me that the creators are drip feeding us information about Suzue. Here with this post, even when analysing it on a spectrum, I gathered two things from it over time.

a) Suzue is not a blood relative

b) The relationship between Daisuke and Suzue is a lot more complex

Just remember that Daisuke trusts Suzue with his life. So the level of mutual understanding and trust between the two is incredibly profound.

Again, these are all very speculative and a lot of the fandom have garnered their own information over the course of the episodes. This is what I (and a lot of DaiSuzu fans) have dissected so far. 

Although the entire show is centred around Daisuke and Haru and their detective work with regards to the Kambe family, I feel like Daizue’s relationship is like that mini side story. Whether they will delve into it or not in the next two episodes is anyone’s guess really. As I said earlier, if anything, the reveal would most likely occur at the very end of Episode 11.

Anyways, share your thoughts and feel free to refute! But PLEASE, be respectful.

P. S. I will keep adding to this if I think of more stuff. It’ll be part of a new “edit section.” I’ll just reblog it so people can see it easier!

[phcking-detective]

FOUND

Find Familiar: ch 1

Rating: E

Summary: Nines cast the spell Find Familiar, but instead of an animal, they accidentally summoned a werewolf. Gavin is just happy to have finally found his mate and start pack bonding with the half-elf wizard. His best idea for a fun bonding activity? Touching his dick of course!

***

Gavin wakes up with a warm, breathing body pressed against his own, and it's all he ever wanted.

Then reality seeps in like cold rain and he realizes it's just the one person, not a dog pile, because he doesn't have a pack. Only a wizard who maybe sort of magically owns him now.

So that's a great start to the morning.

He gets a stew started like he promised, once he finds some potatoes and carrots, one lonely haunch of meat in an icebox, and no spices beyond salt. There aren't many places to look, since the whole room is five, maybe six hundred square feet.

Gods. Gavin's a lone wolf living half-feral without a tent or even a fire half the time, and he still thinks this is pathetic.

He knows better than to touch any of the books scattered around—fucking wizards—so he doesn't try to clean anything while he waits for his new … boss? Alpha?? person, to wake up.

(He does risk moving a stack of papers to sit in front of the black leather collar on the desk. Not hidden. Just. Out of sight.)

"No celery?" the wizard asks.

Gavin bites down on a flinch and a few choice swears. Sweet Selûne shift him. Who the fuck goes from asleep to awake completely silent like that?

"No," he growls.

Nines blinks themself more awake. "Is your negative an agreement to my question or simply a negative?"

"Baby, I have no idea what the fuck you mean, but there's not any celery."

"Oh. Thank you."

The conversation ends there when he dishes out a bowl of stew, that Nines eats at their desk, one agonizingly slow bite at a time, almost as an afterthought as they work on creating papers and papers of writing.

Since the wizard is so absorbed in their scribbles they can barely notice food, Gavin strips down and takes a bath. The water runs hot straight out of the faucet, even without any signs of pipes. Sinking into a whole tub of it feels goddamn luxurious.

He's half-shifted before he even realizes, but Nines probably wouldn't notice he got out and swung his dick around like a propeller, so he doesn't force himself back. His hybrid form always feels better anyway, the best of both animals, with human hands and wolf senses, still able to stand and walk upright but with stronger muscles and thicker protective body hair.

He's still sunk down and amusing himself by blowing bubbles in the water with his near-snout when Nines finally surfaces for air on their own side of the tower.

"Gav—oh."

They turn around and blink at him. Gavin hunkers down lower in the water and prepares to force himself back, but even without actively poking the bond, he can tell there isn't any fear or revulsion from the wizard. He still pulls his snout of out the water and scents the air just to check, but … nothing.

"Good. Yes. Feel free to utilize any of the …" Nines pauses, stuck on the words. "Accommodations. Can you read?"

It's probably a fair question—especially since the answer is barely—but Gavin still hauls himself out of the bathtub and onto the sand pit so Nines will have to look at him. All the scars, the body hair almost thick enough to be a pelt, the way his bone structure is clearly halfway between one form and the other right now.

But instead of making the wizard flinch away and stop asking questions, Nines just grabs a different notebook and begins sketching him.

"Why?" Gavin growls out.

He can still speak, but just like his amount of literacy, the amount is barely. With lots of effort.

"Hmm?"

Nines looks up. Sort of. They lift their head at least, but their eyes stay focused down on their notebook, reluctantly dragged up at the very last second.

"Mm? Oh. Yes, here is your contract," they say.

They place the small stack of papers they'd written onto the dining table in the center of the room, then the two of them meet in the middle, each awkwardly taking a seat across from each other at the table, then staring at each other even more awkwardly.

"That is my brother's seat," Nines says.

Gavin raises an eyebrow but doesn't move his ass out of it. At least he put pants on before sitting down.

"I have never had another visitor," the wizard continues. "So. That has always been …"

They trail off, then grab their notebook and begin reading from it.

"My name is Nines. I am a wizard. I am thirty-two year half-elf. I do not have a gender. I use they-them pronouns. Pause for—"

They stop abruptly and look back up at him.

"… Gavin," he says. "I'm a fighter, thirty-six, werewolf. Born, not turned, so we don't really keep track of any races. You're either a wolf or you're not. Probably human though. Uh, he-him."

If they don't bother with human binary genders, maybe they'd understand just … switching genders? He thinks about it while Nines writes down what he'd said, like anything he says is actually important enough to be recorded.

Maybe he should let them get a little more attached to him before he tells them about the other crazy, evil wizard with a claim on him—and all the transformations they'd done on his body.

"Does your entire pack consist of born lycanthropes?" they ask, drawing him back into the conversation.

"Can just say wolves," Gavin grumbles. "And yeah. Haven't taken in a stray for a while."

No one does. That's why he's still—ugh, stop it. Fucking feeling sorry for himself.

"Is there a significant cultural difference between born and turned … wolves?"

Gavin stares at the wizard. Significant cultural difference, Selûne shift and collar him.

"Turned wolves don't have a pack," he finally says. "No one to share the mental load—most of the poor fuckers don't even know what's happening until they're already shifted and scared and starving. They've got just enough instinct to go back home, and then the screaming and running starts …"

He assumes he doesn't have to finish it from there. A hungry wolf sees something run, and they think prey, not child.

"I apologize if I ask simple questions," Nines states while still writing. "But I have never had the opportunity to meet a wolf in person, and so my knowledge is likely biased and incorrect. Is a coastal environment a suitable habitat for you?"

Gavin shrugs. "Sure. You gonna let me run around outside at some point?"

"Yes, of course. You may come and go as you please," Nines says. "How much land will your pack need? I do own the surrounding—"

His pack? Gavin stares at Nines as they ramble on about this land they own and how it's too rocky to support farming but has access to a cove, and the ensuing treaty with the local pod of merfolk, and—

And his pack. He has no idea what game the wizard is playing, but he never imagined it would include letting him "come and go as you please" and providing land for his—

"I don't have a pack," he blurts out.

Nines stops and blinks at him.

"Got kicked out."

He doesn't explain. It's impossible to explain just one thing, because it's all tangled together, in his mind, the words stuck in his throat. Refusing his pack's Alpha, bargaining to have his body changed and transformed, his womb scooped out so he could never be bred, never ever—

And where exactly that got him. They sit together in silence for a long, horrible moment.

"No one has need of a ninth child," Nines finally says.

"You really call yourself that?" Gavin asks in return, for lack of anything less dick-ish to say.

"Yes." Nines looks at him without any self-pity and factually adds, "It states all that most need to know. They do not need me, and I do not need them."

Gavin nods. "Fuck 'em."

"Yes. Well. I—" Nines stops and abruptly pushes the small pile of paperwork closer to his side of the table. "Here is your contract. It details what I … do need. And, expectations. I suppose the fifth clause is no longer necessary, unless you intend to create your own."

"My own … pack?" Gavin asks slowly.

"Yes."

He snorts. "I'm not going to run around and start turning people."

"Yes, that is included in the clause," Nines says. "Subsection A. Not to offend, but I thought it best to lay out a certain number of precautions first. B notes that you will be beholden to all the same laws as any other citizen, and C states you will make adequate arrangements for the full moon with myself or Knight Commander Anderson."

Gavin pulls a face at the rank. That shit's almost definitely a paladin. No sense of humor, holier than thou, and allergic to critical thinking. Just because you pledged allegiance to a deity society deemed "Good" doesn't actually mean literally everything you do is always going to be right or kind or morally just.

"He is also a lycan—" Nines stops and corrects, "A turned wolf, you called it? If expecting the two of you to … have commonalities … is unreasonable, then the subsection can be adjusted accordingly. The point is merely that you arrange for a safe and secure location each month."

"Yeah, we're not going to sniff each other's butts and be best friends," Gavin tells him. "It's probably how you feel about sorcerers and warlocks. Magic just looks like magic to me, but—yeah."

He stops when he sees Nines's face collapse into itself in the purest form of affronted disgust he's ever seen. This time, he can't stop a chuckle before it slips out.

"I can just stay here though?" he asks.

Nines unfurls their face enough to nod. "Yes. My power may be my own, achieved through my own studies, but I was sent to the same monastery as my twin. I acknowledge you have been sent by my patron deity, and I will fulfill my responsibilities to you thusly."

Gavin's eyebrows shoot up. "You're religious?"

"I worship Selûne," Nines answers.

Gavin stares at the wizard.

"Children born under the full moon often have enhanced magical ability," they explain. "She is also the goddess of navigation, quests, and all who work by night. It was the battle with her own twin that caused the formation of Mystral, the goddess of all magic. Many arcane users still worship her as such."

"And werewolves," Gavin says as how this shit all happened clicks into place.

"Your duties outlined in the contract." Nines stops and clears their throat. "Every power has a price, and mine was enacted at my birth. I have always needed certain accommodations. I realize now a mere animal would not be enough to serve as my familiar, yet a person has never been summoned before. A familiar that is both animal and person, however …"

Gavin nods at the stack of papers. "So am I your familiar or your employee?"

"Well, both," Nines answers. "You are magically bound to me, but you obviously are not a simple animal. I have made adjustments due to these extenuating circumstances, but this is a standard contract for all minions, assistants, and others employed by wizards."

He snorts. "Do I have a union?"

"Yes, subsection E, although you will need to opt-in," Nines replies, very sincerely.

Gavin taps the top paper to make a point when he asks his next question, and the paper suddenly yells the word "HEREFORE" at him.

"Oh, my apologies." Nines takes the stack from him and scribbles a few marks in the top corner. "There, the volume should be properly adjusted."

Gavin cautiously slides the papers back over, being careful to only touch the sides of the stack. He takes the first page off the top and pokes his name, one of the few words he recognizes.

"Gavin," the paper announces.

"I have paperwork I must complete to officially register you as both my familiar and my new minion," Nines tells him. "I trust you can be left to your own devices to review our contract?"

"Yeah," Gavin says.

"Very good."

Nines gets up and returns to their desk. Still no collar, only … this contract. Gavin runs his finger along the first line.

"The entity known as Gavin, herefore referred to as THE FAMILIAR, will enter into a magically binding contract with Nines, herefore referred to as THE WIZARD, to serve in the capacities of both a FAMILIAR and a MINION, as outlined by the Wizard Coalition of …"

***

Gavin nuzzles into his bed and groans. Three days of barely stopping to hunt and sleep to get here, and now it's been another three days of slowly figuring each other out.

Which hasn't been bad or anything. He got to run around outside, do a few laps around the borders of Nines's land. Cold, wet, and rocky, but he has to admit, he's kind of digging the melodramatic sea-side vibe. The air smells like salt and storms all the time, crowding out all the memories of soft earth and dense forest.

And he's got a contract. A "boss." That's the word Nines wants to use, so Gavin says that, but they both know he means Alpha.

It's good to have a job, food, and a bed, blah blah blah, he's really grateful and all, it's just—

Maybe not everyone has them or wants to indulge in them, but Gavin does for both.

And it's been nearly a week.

"Nines," he finally says.

He pokes at their bond too for good measure. The wizard won't pay attention to him unless he does. They'll look up and point their face at his face, but somehow their hand will keep writing in the scroll and they won't hear a goddamn word he says.

Even with the mental prodding, Nines barely turns their head. "Hmm?"

"I need to jack off."

Nines keeps writing for half a second before they blink and actually look at him. "… now?"

Gavin half-shrugs, still laying down. "I mean, tonight, yeah."

He's a werewolf using testosterone cream—kept in a jar in his coin purse, which was much more important to enchant to shift with him than shoes—who just formed a mental pack bond again. Full moon already past or no, his hormones are screaming at him that he needs to fuck.

But that's probably not Nines's idea of a fun bonding activity.

"Do you have adequate lubrication?" Nines asks, then continues with narrowed eyes before he can even reply, "Do not use my spell components."

Gavin barks out a laugh. "What—I'm gonna jack it with oblex ooze? That'd melt my fucking dick off!"

"Yes, it would."

He pauses. "Do … you know that for sure?"

Nines sighs. Deeply. "I attended an academy meant to train paladins, clerics, and perhaps the odd druid."

"All the most repressed spellcasters, huh?"

Nines doesn't deny it. Gavin snorts, imagining all the magically-inclined tithe-children being told to keep themselves pure so they can be properly donated to the gods turning into magically-inclined teenagers hit with guilt and libido in equal measure—and all the idiot fuckery they probably got up to without any actual education about their bodies.

"Do you have adequate lubrication?" Nines asks again. "I do not keep supplies for that on hand."

"You don't keep supplies or you don't uh, keep anything on hand?" Gavin wiggles his eyebrows.

Nines flushes and glares like they're still a prefect at that academy. "I—that is not—"

Gavin raises his own hands to prove they're above the sheets. "If that's not any of my business, sure. Figured that, honestly. Which is why I'm telling you that I've got needs, but I can just go downstairs if you want."

"Downstairs?" Nines frowns less furiously.

"That little entranceway at the door is large enou—"

"I'm not going to send you out into the hall," Nines says, like that's what will make them clutch their pearls in shock. "You can stay in your own bed."

"Yeah?" Gavin gives the wizard a once over. "I'm good with that. So good. But what I'm willing to do with pack and what you think is appropriate for a roommate probably isn't the same thing."

Nines's frown turns more calculating, like they're correcting the runes in a spell. "We are discussing you staying in your bed to masturbate while I continue my studies, correct?"

"… yeah?"

"Are you going to call me names, attempt to touch me, or—"

"No, no," Gavin rushes to reassure them. "I can just …"

He moves his hand down and cups himself, just to demonstrate that he's only going to be touching his own body, before he remembers that's not socially acceptable around humans either. Nines only cocks their head to the side though, a mild curiosity leaking through their mental bond.

And fuck, just his hand feels good right now. It's been nearly a goddamn week.

"Do you have adequate lubrication?" Nines asks.

Gavin shivers under the sound of their voice. "Don't need it. Get wet enough myself."

He feels the bond pulse again with that academic sort of curiosity, like Nines is going to start taking notes on him again while he jacks off. He pushes his trousers down, moving slowly enough to give his boss plenty of time to look away. He isn't wearing smalls of course. They'd just be another piece he'd have to pay to get enchanted.

Nines eyes his cock like they might sketch it in exact anatomical detail.

Gavin doesn't mention how he got it—his bargain and the Collar, the collapsed tower, the vows of vengeance—he'll get around to confessing it all eventually. But in the meantime: a fun bonding activity.

Gavin grips his cock and gives it a few strokes. Nines blinks in a way that's more like shutting their eyes repeatedly. He exhales slowly and makes himself stop, although he does still keep his hand held loosely around the base.

"If you don't want echoes, you'll have to wall off your mind on your own end," he advises Nines. "I'm uh … a little too busy here to concentrate."

"Echoes," Nines repeats.

Shit, right. Human. Doesn't seem to specialize in any divination or enchantment magic—so they probably don't have any experience being inside someone else's head.

"Yeah, that's why I offered to," He jerks his chin at the door. "Distance helps, some."

Nines does that tiny little head tilt again. "May I observe?"

Gavin licks his lips. "Yeah."

"May I ignore you?" they ask next.

"Uh, sure?"

He doesn't have any human hangups about nudity, but he's not going to whip his dick out and waggle it at anyone who doesn't want to see it. Jacking off in the same room is probably already pushing it, but then again, the rules seem to be different in boarding schools and barracks and sometimes bars but sometimes not—humans have so many weird fucking rules.

"Then," Nines says. "You do as you please, and I will do the same."

"Works for me."

Gavin gives his cock another squeeze, and Nines turns back to their scroll. Yeah, he's a little disappointed about that, but it's enough just to have his pack in the same room and know he's not alone.

Since the wizard isn't watching anyway, Gavin rolls over and shoves a blanket down around his crotch. He has a whole nest of them, all piled up on top of a mattress Nines insisted he have. They'd tried to bring in an actual bed, but it's just weird, sleeping so high up and away from the ground for no reason.

He gets a soft little mound built up and grips himself again through the blanket. Even if Nines makes him wash it after, this will make his bed smell like him and home and—

Gavin buries his face into his pillow and inhales. It still has Nines's scent on it. All the blankets do too, so now they'll smell like the both of them, like pack.

He feels a fresh jab of interest spike back through their bond and guesses Nines is watching him again. Maybe jacking off right in front of them like that was a little too much, but with everything mostly out of view now, they're back to curious again.

It only takes him a minute to build up a steady rhythm, rutting into the blankets and his own hand. He groans into the pillow and hears Nines breathe in sharply.

Echoes. He grins and keeps going.

He doesn't know what kind of needs Nines has or wants to fulfill, but he likes the thought of making them feel good. Would like it even better if he could crawl over between the wizard's legs and find out what they're working with by licking it.

"Gavin …"

The wolf whines in response to his name in his Alpha's mouth. He squeezes his hand tighter at the base of his cock against the knot trying to plump up there, just in case Nines wants it.

"Yeah, baby?" Gavin manages to growl.

"Oh."

Nines breathes the word, and Gavin can feel a small simmer of arousal bounce back and forth between them—this time from the wizard's end, not his.

"Does it always feel like this?" they ask.

He groans in answer, the only response he has to the soft wonder in their voice. He knows humans' senses are weak and dull, that they don't get hit with lust and frenzy the same way wolves do.

But hearing the awe in his human's voice the first time they feel it too makes him want to show them how good it can really feel.

"Yeah," he bites out. "Better with … you."

His canines get in the way of the words, the partial shift rippling through his body. He's never had particularly good control of it, so there's no stopping the change now when his blood's up.

"Are you wet?"

The question stabs through him. Gavin loses his rhythm with a whimper, nearly overcome with the instinct to crawl over and show his Alpha, present his cock or his mouth or whatever hole they want to use.

And he is wet. He can feel it dripping down the length of his cock, more pooling at the head, smearing into the palm of his hand.

"Uh huh," he pants.

Gavin bites down into the blankets as he ruts harder, but a sharply clicked tongue brings him back to awareness. He turns his head to the side and blearily stares up at Nines as he continues fucking his own hand.

"I would like to hear you," Nines says.

"Baby," Gavin breathes in reply.

Nines closes their eyes and shivers. Well, if they like his voice …

"Wanna lick you," he says. "Suck on you and make you—ahhh, make you feel good."

"I—" Nines stares at him with wide eyes.

"Shh, shhh." Gavin keeps making the noise in a low mumble as he slows down his pace into a dirty grind. "Gotcha baby, get my mouth on your nipples an' your neck, your mouth, make you wet too."

"I don't usually like to be touched," Nines admits.

Gavin's brain snatches onto the word usually, but he doesn't want to push. There's some shit he knows for sure he won't ever do, but then there's a lot more he just doesn't know if he really doesn't want, or maybe only in the right situation, with the right pronouns and body parts, the right person, but then how is he supposed to know if he wants it enough to try it if he won't know if he actually wants it until he's already tried it?

So that's a whole big nest of wyverns, and neither of them need to try to sort it out right this moment.

"Can give you this though, yeah?" Gavin asks.

He twists his wrist on the upstroke against the head, but then stops and holds completely still. Nines tries to strangle a whine in their throat at the lost sensation.

"… yes."

That confession sounds much better. Gavin grins at the wizard and starts thrusting again, still looking at them. Their long eyelashes and shoulder-length hair almost soften their face into pretty, but then thin lips, a straight nose, and strong jaw sharpen the effect back up again. And the ice-blue eyes set against pale skin and black hair just sends it all careening past beautiful or handsome into big words about being scary-haunting-magical that the wolf can't think of right now.

He can feel his orgasm building up, drowning in those eyes staring right back at him, but he squeezes harshly at the base of his cock. The sensation strangles at the root, like the little moans Nines won't let escape their mouth.

He probably shouldn't tempt it, but he sinks into the feeling of tightening and loosening his grip around his knot and the waves of pleasure that sends rolling through them both.

"You," Nines says but can't seem to find anymore words.

"Mmgff." Gavin huffs into the pillow and tries to make his own words work. "Good, feels good. Sorry. Won't knot if—fffuck."

If that scares you. Disgusts you. Bores you, to be stuck listening to him come and come and come while the exasperated wizard is trying to focus on their studies.

He pries his eyes back open when he hears footsteps and stares up at Nines paused in an awkward-half crouch over him, like they're not sure if they're allowed to touch. His tail makes the decision for both of them by immediately wagging in anticipation of pets and attention.

"May I touch you?" Nines still asks.

Gavin nods past a desperate whine. A hand slides up the back of his neck first, while another soothes over his bare flank. Must've kicked off his trousers at some point. All that matters is the hand on the back of his neck, pinning him down, holding him place, exactly where he should be for his Alpha.

His tail wags harder.

"May I see?"

The hands urge him to roll over, and he does, without hesitation, like a dog showing his belly when his master comes home.

Laying on his back like this, he knows the partial shift is even more apparent. Just about everything humans think they know is bullshit, but his hybrid form really does look like those shitty illustrations of big scary wolf men.

And that's without the thick, hairy cock jutting out between his legs.

He's proud of it, wanted it, needed it, but that was for himself. He wasn't trying to impress anyone, and he's not expecting a human to like it.

"Does your phallus typically have this appearance, or is it increasingly engorged due to your partial transformation?" Nines asks.

Gavin stares up at them and tries to impress through their mental bond just how many fucking words that was.

Nines flushes and tries again. "Does it get bigger when you shift?"

"Yeah," he says. "Touch me?"

He holds his cock slightly out toward the wizard in offering. Nines hums in consideration but doesn't make any move toward it. That's fair.

"Do you knot without …" They struggle with the words again. "Sex?"

Gavin strokes himself, tugging upward and pause at the head. It leaves his knot free below, not quite there yet, but noticeably swollen under the attention.

"Can. Sometimes."

"Will you show me?"

Nines stares down at him and meeting their eyes is like looking at the moon. Humans want so badly to sort everything into Good or Bad, even the deities they worship. But some things aren't good or bad, only intense.

Gavin nods, mouth slack and panting. He wraps his left hand around his knot to work it while his right keeps stroking the rest. Nines's eyes sweep up and down him like a search light scanning for a rogue.

"Feel … good?" he asks between pants.

Maybe he's already asked, but it's hard to think right now. He tugs at the bond, trying to pull Nines's mind closer to him, get them to come down out of the sky and feel it with him. The wizard's hands clench into the robes draped over their kneeling legs.

Then they open their eyes again, and Gavin could swear their irises really have turned a silvery-blue.

"Behave."

The order thunders down their bond and into his chest. Gavin groans, the tightness coiled inside him easing another measure. He's not quite ready to unspool, but maybe—maybe just a little?

"I am asking about you."

Nines's voice changes from questioning and a little stilted to informing him of how it is, like casting a spell. Gavin doesn't have any ability himself, but as far as he knows, that's kind of how they do it. Spell casting is just telling reality what to do with enough conviction that reality up and does it.

"Do you want to be mine?"

Gavin thrusts into his hands in answer. It's sloppy and a little pathetic, because there's nothing for him to rut into. But he starts nodding again, just in case that wasn't enough.

"Like this?" Nines touches him for the second time, one hand gently curling around his throat. "To be mine."

He's coming undone. Falling apart. Food and shelter and an Alpha, their own little pack of two, someone touching him and promising to claim him.

"Suh … 'posed to be … yours."

He knows it's true, it's true, true. The call in his mind, their contract, both of them bound by Selûne.

"Yes," Nines confirms. "Show me."

Gavin comes almost before they finish speaking. He tries to hold eye contact as long as he can, but eventually his own squeeze shut as he curls in on himself with a shudder. The first wave passes deceptively quick, with just a few spurts from his cock.

But he's not done.

"Good boy."

Those hands are back again, just like before, this time encouraging him to roll back onto his belly. They stroke through his hair and scritch behind his ears when he obeys, and he thinks life couldn't possibly get any better until there's a warm body sliding onto the mattress behind him.

Then he's being spooned and everything inside him unravels without any warning.

When he's done coming for the second time, he's aware of a few things: the hand wrapped back around his throat, first. That the gangly half-human, half-elf is tall enough to almost envelope him completely. The soft murmur of praise in his ear, shifted halfway up his head now and nearly wolf-like.

Yours.

It's harder to send the thought out when he's only partially shifted. Even with other wolves, they all share best as animals, some basic concepts as hybrids, and only faint echoes when unshifted.

But being the wizard's familiar must be different, since he'd heard the summons in his head from damn near across the country, in all forms, while Nines can't shift at all.

You are mine. I will take care of you, if you allow me to keep you.

Oh yeah, that's definitely different. Wolves share senses and feelings, not full sentences.

Keep me, Gavin manages to think back.

"Yes," Nines murmurs aloud.

The third wave hits him, and he sobs as he comes for his Alpha. His body is just doing the best it can to please, still managing to pump out another two shots of cum. He can finally feel a tinge of mild revulsion from Nines, but it seems to be aimed more at the mess than himself. Bold feelings from a wizard who left a hunk of bread to mold so long they mistook it for a stoneshroom.

"Perhaps I should invest in a toy," they muse. "A sleeve somewhat akin to a bag of holding, so that it can contain all this mess."

Gavin groans in a not-sexy way. "Don't make me fuck a void."

"No, the pocket dimension would only be applied at the tip of the—"

He can't help but start laughing. Pocket dimension applied at the tip—and said completely straight. Goddamn wizards.

Nines expresses their irritation at being laughed at by nipping his ear, and yep, there's wave number four. To their credit, they do continue to hold him until he gets another brief reprieve.

"How many times does this occur?" they ask when he's done.

"Depends," Gavin scrapes together enough brain matter to say. "More with … partner."

"Hmm," Nines says, like the feral scientist they are.

Gavin flips off his pride and goes straight to begging. "Please."

He's not sure what exactly he's begging for though—not to be forced into multiple orgasms while Nines observes or takes notes, or that the wizard will get started on that right away.

"Please, please, baby."

Nines pulls him back to rest half on top of their body, which lets them switch their right hand for their left hand around his throat without him laying on top of their arm. And that in turn frees up their right hand to drop down to his cock.

"Yours, yours," he mumbles. "Alpha."

"What do you need?"

Their hand brushes his own, the one gripping his knot. He lets go for an agonizing second to press their hand against it instead. Nines lets him wrap his hand back around theirs, using both of their hands to squeeze and lightly tug the knot.

"Ah … ahhh …"

"Ask properly," Nines orders.

"Alphaaa!"

He practically wails the word, shaking apart in Nines's arms and beneath their hand, but he can't now, it's not enough on his own anymore, not without permission.

"Hmmm."

Gavin cries freely, but doesn't make Nines grip him tighter or stroke him off. His Alpha will give him what he needs, and he'll take what he's given, like a good boy.

But that doesn't mean he can't ask for more.

"Baby," he groans. "Need it, need it, I—phck, please!"

"Yes."

The final wave sweeps over him so hard he goes blind, or his eyes shut, or he's back on his belly again, face smushed into the pillow, Nines's hand still around him and the blankets beneath his cock to rut into and it's not the last because Nines tells him Again and Again, until he's coming dry, throat hoarse from crying.

And then once more after that.

When he regains consciousness again, his whole body feels sore in the best possible way. There's drool running down his chin, tacky and drying to the pillow. He has his knees tucked up beneath him, but that's OK, because this is how he's supposed to present anyway.

Except the hand reaching between his legs doesn't breach him. Something soft and wet swipes over him instead, and he can't even muster up the mental energy to be scared, to explain why that's still there, that he managed to bargain for a working cock and all his insides scooped out, but that's still—

"Hush." Nines soothes him with another hand rubbing his back. "You did very well. All you must do now is rest."

Gavin sinks back down into the delicious ache and doesn't move while Nines cleans the slick from between his thighs, then further up to his cock. The blankets he'd rutted into have already been removed at some point. He knows from experience not even the best wizard on the material plane could wash his scent out though and takes a moment to feel a little smug about it.

"Yes, you came a truly impressive amount," Nines says. "Excessive, actually."

Gavin smacks his mouth before he can speak. "Your fault."

"Hmmm."

Nines stands when he's done and moves away. Gavin manages to flop onto his side and curl up. His boss did say he could sleep now. He just needs a little nap.

He gets a flask of water shoved in his face instead. The hand petting him goes back awkward again, pat-pat-pat instead of real pets. Nines doesn't seem to know exactly what to do now that they're done, but clean up and water was still really nice of them.

Gavin finishes gulping down the flask and heaves in air.

"I have work I need to finish," Nines informs him. "Have your needs been sufficiently met?"

Sufficiently met? Fuck, he's had orgies that didn't wear him out this good.

"Yeah," Gavin answers. "Need to sleep now."

Nines smiles at him. "Excellent. Good boy."

Gavin grins lazily back at them. "And when I wake up, I'm gonna crawl over between your legs and make you feel good too."

Nines flushes and half opens their mouth to protest.

"When you need a break from your scroll-thingy, and only if you let me," he adds.

Nines closes their mouth. They don't say anything else, but that means they also don't say no. Their blush doesn't go away either. They simply stand back up and sit down at their desk, spending far too much concentration fussing over the exact alignment of all their inks and quills instead of looking at Gavin.

Who keeps grinning, even as he yawns and snuggles down in his bed. He just needs a little nap, and then after that … he has all sorts of ideas for fun bonding activities.

***

***

This fic was commissioned by one of my followers to continue the first drabble! Subscribers to my Patreon get early access to all my commissioned fics 2 weeks before they’re posted to AO3 and tumblr ^^

[myonmukyuu]

hot milk tea, thoughts and feelings

I’ve only mentioned it briefly, but I’ve said that I’ll be taking a break from my SetsuAyu series - mainly because of my uni workload though.

But for now, I have a lot of thoughts about the entire thing as a project as well as myself as an artist. So I figured that I’d write a reflection of sorts (warning: it gets kind of personal).

Can you believe it’s been 3-4 months since the series started? I can’t, and I’ve been the one drawing all of these!! If you’ve been reading my work, I’ll say it over and over but I really appreciate it!!! Like I’m dead serious!!! Completely!! Utterly!! Without a doubt!!! I love all of you!!!

When I posted that first comic, I didn’t think it’d get the positive reception that it did get. Like, I’ve been producing basically entirely Muse content for years and suddenly decided to tap into Nijigaku? You could argue that it didn’t get that much attention, but either way, the attention it did get surprised me. I was so happy that people were engaged (and it still makes me stupidly happy, like on a level where I’m almost embarrassed to admit HAHA)

Recently I’ve just uploaded the bonus for the 3rd update which wraps up that part, and it really just clicked - that I really have invested soooo much time into this series. 36 pages now! And we’re only 3/10 main updates in!! I have so much passion for this - like a fire that can’t be put out. Every single update has something that I want to communicate/show so I always feel fired up. Heck, if you’ve spoken to me during the process you’d catch me always saying “I’m excited for the next one!!!” while working on it LMAO. It’s been my longest string of non-stop work. Usually I feel burned out more quickly but I was always so excited that I couldn’t stop! You’d find that I’m usually in a  state of conflict bc I alwaaaays want to talk about it but at the same time I don’t want to spoil anything. (THE NEXT UPDATE JUICY)

I think it’s a clear reminder of why I draw actually. The answer between each artist always differs, but I think it’s something important to be aware of. And well, for me? I’ve realised I’m a passion-monster. Passion keeps my blood pumping 100%. As a result... you could say I might be a more selfish kind of artist. Maybe it’s burn-out from running all those ask-blogs/RP when I was like 13-16, but I’ve realised that I’m having the most fun drawing what I genuinely love. It’s kind of why you’d rarely see me do requests and why I no longer do commissions. That isn’t to say that I hate drawing for other people. It can be fulfilling! But it’s more like - I barely have the time to draw for myself, so drawing for others is kind of a lower priority in general. It’s also why I’ve decided against studying graphic design when I graduated highschool. It’s just not happening as a career.

When I ask myself, “what kind of artist do I want to be?” I always think “Somebody who marches to her own beat and works hard to make content that she loves.” It’s also why I never delete anything - even my oldest art that makes me cringe. Because the me from 5 years ago put her love into that too. It’s really cheesy sounding but that’s how I see it LMFAO. I couldn’t do that to her. And also, just because I don’t like something anymore, it doesn’t mean that no one else does. So I’ll continue to never delete my old work. As a bonus, we get to see how far I’ve come too~.

I feel a little vulnerable admitting something like this and I’m pretty sure I’ve only told like 4 humans, but I think my #1 goal as an artist is that I want people to be able to look at my work (that I actually put my heart into) and think “this person loves this” or “this person works hard”. If you can do that, and sincerely feel the feelings I put into my comic, then I’ve already reached my goal. Can people tell how much I love these characters? The series? The concept? Can people tell how much work I’ve been putting into these updates? Can people tell when I’m having fun? It’s something I think about a lot. The idea of that people might think so makes me tear up HAHA - I get really sappy thinking about these kinds of things. And well, if people can’t tell then I’m not working hard enough!

That isn’t to say that I’m always putting my life-blood into everything I make. I’m mainly referring to the stuff where I do. I think it’s pretty clear when I’m pumping a lot of love into something. In general though, there’s always an intention for me to like communicate some idea or feeling and doing something like that requires maybe a bit of love~.

I feel like that as a character, Setsuna really resonates with me a lot. In personality? Not at all LMFAOOOO (she’s such a nice girl!!). More because of her ideals and principles. After typing like everything that I did up until this point, I bet you can guess why. I’ll keep it short and simple though, since this post is getting stupidly long.

Basically, I really resonate with her drive and passion as both an artist, and just in general actually? I’m a believer in that if you’re passionate about something, you can spread that passion. That’s the mentality I have with my art. If my love shows, then maybe other people will understand why I’ve come to love something. And maybe they’ll come to love it too. If I’m having fun, maybe they will have fun too! Very cheesy, I know, but that’s just how I roll!!!

Like rare pair? New fandom? Still applies. It might take awhile, but eventually either the people who love that thing will find me, or I’ll help people come to love something new (or at least see where it’s coming from lolol)! 

And as Setsu says:

You tell ‘em girl !!! That devotion is my driving force!!

Of course I know this is idealistic, but I think that’s fine. It’s no bother to me if someone feels indifferent/ negative towards my work because that’s just natural.

I think it’s a form of communication and that’s what drives my art. I’ve been intending on writing a guide/ or talking about my art process for comics for some time now and I think that’d be the first thing I’d mention? I’m always trying to communicate some sort of feeling/tone/idea and that comes from a place of love y’know.

I feel like I’m saying “love” and “passion” a lot - you can really tell I’m vibing with Setsuna huh LMAO. There are other reasons I vibe with her too, but I won’t touch on that.

Coming back to my SetsuAyu series. You can tell why I’m so happy about it right? The story, the pairing dynamic, I feel like that people are understanding what I’m trying to communicate - that people are receiving my feelings of love for it and that makes me smile so widely. I really put a lot into it!!

This series is the first large project I’ve ever taken you see and I’m so so happy that I’ve been able to get this far! It really means a lot to me. But it wasn’t actually the first comic series I’ve tried to do. I actually had a Muse long-running comic planned years ago - a Dancing Stars on Me! AU but it never came to life. I think it was my lack of confidence that held me back. It might be weird of me to pat myself on the back, but I’m proud that I managed to get going this time!! I’ve actually written the SetsuAyu series in a way that for the first half, I could drop the series if I really wanted to at any point (each part is pretty independent, and that description I always copy-and-paste is all the explanation you really need), but now I know for sure that I don’t want to drop it! I wanna keep going!! Even if it gets tough. Although it might be a little early for me to make such bold declarations, I’m only 3/10 through LOOOL. But that’s just the way I feel right now!

I know it’s irrational and it’s something I’d rather not admit, but an anxiety that’s always looming over me is the idea that I’m not working hard enough - or that people think I’m not? Each comic update...takes like a month right? And a month is a long time. There’s this part of me that is convinced that people think I’m lazy for working so slowly. And I know it’s not true!! It doesn’t make sense for it to be!!! But like I said it’s irrational.

I’m really proud of this comic y’know. It’s a really big commitment and I’m proud of myself for being able to commit. I work full time 9-5, and I also am in my final year at university. I’m... kind of busy lol. So the huge factor in that month-long update turnaround is just that I don’t have the time to always be drawing. But I try to draw as much as I can! If you have me on discord you might notice me work on it for like 2-5 hours, almost daily before I go to bed (1am). Of course I’m not only drawing, but after I get everything plotted out sometimes that’s all I do. This comic is super time-consuming LMAO - and I try my best to work on it a little at a time.

So yeah, the entire month of comic-production is me drawing every almost every night.

Yeah it, - it’s kind of exhausting. Even though I’m itching to work on my next update, I’ve decided to take a break for uni crunch which is why I say the next one might be two months. It’s really odd though. The other night I was in bed feeling restless. It was so weird not drawing till 1am that I felt like I needed to be doing something. This comic series might have weird effects on my habits...

It makes me anxious thinking that it’d be so long till next update. But I’ll do my best to push that aside ! Hopefully I can get uni done and dusted ASAP! I want them to date dammit...

I've decided that I want to see this series through to the end. It’ll probably be May next year when that happens though LMAO! Please bear with my slow turnaround time. It’s only been 3 updates, but I can already see that I’m improving with each one. With each update I feel like I really learn from the previous and I always feel this sense of excitement with trying out new techniques and trying to create different feelings. I really want to see how the last updates will look compared to the first!  Technically we’re 3/10 (10 is an epilogue), but after 6 I actually stop doing bonuses? So teeechnically I’m like 40% of the way through~.

It might be a little over-ambitious, but I kind of want to print it out and make a hard-copy when I’m done. I’m not sure about what the demand would be if I were to sell it, but I definitely want to print it for myself first and foremost (after touching up the earlier updates of course LOL). It’d be like a physical representation of my achievement. I hope I can make it there.

Anyways, I’ve rambled for far too long. I’m not sure why I suddenly felt like talking about uh, everything but yeaaaah. If you’ve read this far, kudos to you! You now have a window into my soul that I’m still not sure if I’m comfortable with revealing (but I’m comfortable enough because I’m posting this so...)! 

After reading all of this, can you tell why I always get so so happy after each update? It’s the fruition of what’s usually 2-3 weeks of non-stop hard work! Seeing people connect with it always sends me to another realm of bliss and I always feel soft like putty LOL.

[lilulo-12fanfiction]

Rain Song- Chapter 1

So here is Chapter 1! This is super long. Almost 10K words. I’m not even sorry. lol I did want to get through this as it is mostly background information on who Hope is. 

I’m taking liberties here. So if something isn’t factually correct...it is what it is. Since this is an OC story cannon will variate. 

I hope you enjoy this chapter! If you would like to be tagged, please let me know! I also write for TVD, Supernatural & The Avengers. You can view each masterlist list at the top of my page.

Also- does anyone do character art/ digital portraits? I’d love for someone to put one together of Hope for me. 

Series Masterlist

12 Years Later

Hope slowly stretched her arms out in front of her. She felt the release of the tension she hadn’t realized she had been holding onto. She pulled the earphones off of her head and cracked her neck. She felt a slight smile come to her face. Her Uncle Remus couldn’t understand her obsession with Muggle music. Yet whenever she spoke of the genius that was Freddy Mercury or her obsession with The Beatles he got a far away look in his eyes. There were things from his past that he outright refused to discuss. She stopped pushing for answers a long time ago. She couldn’t bear to cause him any pain. All she knew was that on Halloween when she was just shy of 2 years old her mother sacrificed her life to save Hope’s as her Uncle carried her to safety. Her father, was in Azkaban for life after he sided with Voldemort. Her Uncle was one of the rare few who would speak Voldemort's name. Her Uncle wouldn’t let her fear his name. She had seen to many shudder at the mere thought of the Dark Wizard. Remus wanted her to be strong. With Remus' strength and bravery, also came a sense of fear. She knew he was afraid his former supporters would someday come after her, so they stayed hidden away on their beach cottage. He tutored her in her magical studies when she became old enough. She loved her Uncle beyond measure and he was a brilliant teacher; but Hope craved more. She longed to have peers that understood her. Sure, she had made friends with the Muggle Children that came to the beach for holidays and the few that lived near year 'round, but it wasn’t the same. The only contact she had with other magical children were The Weasley family. She saw them on the rare occasion that Andromeda couldn’t stay with her when her Uncle’s condition kept him from her. Her cousin Nymphadora was much older than she, and while she adored her, she still couldn't relate. All Hope wanted was a couple of really good friends.

Hope had been sitting on the beach sketching for hours. What she was drawing, she wasn’t quite sure yet. That was how she controlled the visions that plagued her, she put them down on paper. Drawing and painting calmed her mind. The music pounding into her ears quieted the other noises. Lately, her visions had quite literally taken a dark turn. She had a persistent dull headache that would sometimes push her into a migraine for the day. Everything was black. That’s all she could draw was black. Black shapes, black lines and sometimes she filled the page with shadings of black. She could see the concern in her Uncle's eyes when he would peek at her drawings, but he said nothing. She hadn’t quite figured out how to piece her visions together yet, everything was still very jumbled. Often times they would make sense after the event occured, she was hoping to use those experiences to learn how to read them. She was still young. Remus was impressed with how far she had come on her own. He had tried to find someone to help her, but hadn't had any luck. From what he had told Hope, the Divinations teacher at Hogwarts would not be able to assist her. The one thing she had learned to control was pulling images from others. She figured out how to touch others without being overwhelmed with their thoughts. On a rare occasion where she wasn’t prepared did it happen. It always overwhelmed her and she hated invading anyone else’s privacy. Remus had shown her memories of her mother that way, when he couldn’t find the correct words. His memories were muted though. There was something he was trying to shield her from.

Hope leaned back and closed her eyes, letting the sun radiate light into the darkness that was swirling inside. Today was her favorite kind of day. The sun was hot and the water was clear. The breeze was blowing to keep her cool. Her wild blonde curls were piled on top of her head, the wind causing wisps to come free and blow around her face. She wanted every day to be like this, warmness and Led Zepplin pulsing through her veins. Yet the persistent pinch in her forehead was making it impossible to completely enjoy the day. Hope looked down at her watch and cursed. She had been gone an hour longer than she had anticipated. She quickly threw her sketch book, pencils and her disc man into her bag. She brushed the sand off her denim cut offs as she stood and threw her t-shirt back on over her bathing suit. Quickly she donned her flip flops and made the half mile walk back to the beach cottage she resided in with her beloved Uncle.

As she approached the house, something felt different. There was a tense energy in the air that caused a chill to go down her spine. She just wanted a day where she didn’t feel anxiety or cold. She wanted one day where the needling in her brain gave her peace. It had been far too long since she had a day like that. Something in her world was changing, she could feel it. She feared it was something that would color her whole world black, not just the pictures she had stashed in her bag. She saw a figure standing in the kitchen with her Uncle. By the way he was standing, she could see tension spilling from his every muscle. She quietly snuck in to try and overhear what they were saying.

“Remus it’s time. You can no longer keep her sequestered away. While I'm sure you are teaching her everything she needs to know, she needs to be around children her own age. She has lived almost as much of a muggle existence as young Harry. She will be safer at Hogwarts. Every manner of protection will be used for the school.” The voice was kind, grandfatherly almost. Hope’s ears perked up at the mention of Hogwarts. How she had longed to attend. To learn magic, make real friends, create an extended family beyond her and Remus. Hope was so lonely. Her thoughts of loneliness always made her feel an overwhelming sense of guilt. Her uncle had given up his entire young life for her, he should be enough for her. It made her feel incredibly selfish.

“Albus- there are still things she does not know. Things I can’t even begin to tell her-“ Dumbledore held his hand up to stop Remus from continuing.

“Hello Hope.” The gentle voice called out her name and she froze. She had barely stepped two feet into the house and she had been discovered, so much for sneaking in and eavesdropping. She set her bag down and slowly stepped into the kitchen. Her Uncle seemed more agitated than she had ever seen him. Uncle Remus almost never got angry or irritated, he always had an abundance of patience for her.

Her attention was quickly drawn to the tall man who had called her name. He had long silver hair and silver beard. His crooked nose reminded her of Billy Berkshire’s after she had punched him in the face for teasing another girl she had befriended one summer. Resting on his nose were half moon spectacles that allowed a clear view of his kind blue eyes. He donned the most magnificent purple robes she had ever seen. He was oddly wonderful. She just hoped none of the neighborhood kids saw him, she’d have some explaining to do. She knew the man before her was Albus Dumbledore, she never expected he would ever be standing in her kitchen.

“Hello.” Hope’s voice was filled with trepidation. Why would she need to be protected? She knew her Uncle was keeping secrets, but to hear him admit it to someone else was jarring.

“Come darling, sit.” She nodded and made her way to the table. Dumbledore also took a seat.

“I’m sorry for being late. I lost track of time.” Dumbledore was staring at her with an odd expression.

“It’s quite alright. Hope, this is-“

“Albus Dumbledore.” She finished the sentence before he could. She felt ill at ease as the blue eyes studied her. She wasn’t used to being studied quite so intently.

“Well I see my reputation has proceeded me. I hope your Uncle shared only the good things.” He gave her a kind smile that calmed her nerves. “I apologize for staring. It just, you are so very much like your mother. I wasn’t expecting it.” It was something Hope heard often. She would catch her Uncle staring at her, a sad look on his face, but only when he thought she wasn’t paying attention. Andromeda had said many times how much Hope resembled her mother. As far as Hope could tell, the only thing she got from her father were her eyes.

“Why am I in danger?” Hope wasn’t interested in beating around the bush. She watched as her Uncle rolled his jaw.

“Your father has escaped from Azkaban.” Remus finally spoke. Hope felt like she had been slapped. Her father- the man she had wondered about for her whole life. The man her uncle could barely spoke of. She had only seen a few pictures, but his handsome and wild features were forever etched into her brain. All Hope knew was that Sirius Black had been best friends with her Uncle, James Potter and Peter Pettigrew. He fell in love with her mother while she was in her 4th year and Sirius was in his 6th at Hogwarts. They married shortly after Nora’s graduation. Remus had always stressed how much her father had loved her and loved her mother. It had been discovered that he was a Death Eater and after Voldemort’s fall he was sentenced to Azkaban. Remus would provide no other details, regardless of how hard she pressed. The idea of meeting her father was exhilarating. Only he could provide the answers she most craved. Yet she was terrified of him. What if he came to their home and hurt Remus to get to her. She had read all about the Dementors of Azkaban. She knew what they did to their inhabitants. Her father had spent 12 years there.

“That’s why you’ve been so tense this past week. Why I haven’t seen a single page of The Daily Prophet. Remus nodded.

“I didn’t know how to tell you.” He admitted. He reached behind him and pulled a news paper out of one of the cupboards and handed it to her. The man on the front page was not the man she had seen pictures of. He was gaunt and had a waxy appearance to his skin. His once beautifully groomed hair was long and matted. She felt her eyes well up. She should be horrified, but yet she felt her heart break. How could she feel that for a man that caused so much terror?

“We are afraid he will come looking for you. We don’t know what kind of state he is in. But 12 years in Azkaban would have made an impact on his mental state.” Dumbledore was trying to be as sensitive as possible. “We think it’s time for you to join your classmates at Hogwarts. You would be under intense protection and would have the best magical education. Not to say that you haven’t done a splendid job, Remus.”

“We?” Hope looked to her Uncle. It didn’t matter how badly she wanted to go, she would never leave without his blessing. Remus ran his hand down his face. He took Hope’s hand in his as he had done many times, knowing it would ground her.

“Yes. We. Professor Dumbledore is right, as always. Hogwarts can offer you protection that I cannot. And it’s time for you to be around witches and wizards of your own age. I should have sent you two years ago. It was my own fear that stopped me.” Hope felt a jolt of excitement. That gave Remus peace of mind. Yet as quickly as he saw her stormy eyes light up, it died just as quickly.

“But yo- you’ll be alone. And if he comes here, will you be safe? What, what would happen to me if something happened to you?” Remus could see the panic setting in.

“As it so happens-“ Dumbledore interjected “It seems I am in need of a Defense Against The Arts teacher yet again. I was hoping Remus that you would consent to returning to Hogwarts with Hope.” Dumbledore watched Hope’s body relax as she looked expectantly at her Uncle.

“Albus, are you sure? My condition-“

“Is managed by your Wolfsbane potion. You’ve managed to raise an exceptional young lady. I assume you can handle teaching a few classes.” There was no way Remus could say no, not with how his niece was staring at him expectantly.

“If you’re sure Albus, I would be delighted.”

“Now, Hope, Hogwarts doesn’t normally have a student start midway through their education. Your peers have much more knowledge on the school than you will. I think it will be best to have you come a few weeks prior to the other students. I would like to get you sorted into your house and settled before they return.”

“But that’s around the time of the full moon, Uncle Remus won’t be able to bring me.”

“Hope- you will have to go without me and I will meet you there in September 1st.”

“Professor McGonagall will be there to get you acquainted with the school.” Hope sat for a moment with her thoughts. She didn’t like the idea of being away from her Uncle for that long, but this had been what she always wanted.

“Okay.” She agreed.

“Splendid. Remus, I trust you can get Hope to Diagon Alley for her books and supplies. I will send an owl with her list.” Hope had so many questions for Dumbledore but didn’t know where to even start. He was already standing and she couldn’t get her thoughts together. “I will see you both very soon.” Then, with a crack, Albus Dumbledore was gone.

“Go get washed up darling. I’ll start dinner.” Her uncle stood to go and prepare them something to eat. She knew the question portion of the evening had ended. She would get no further information from him that night.

**************************************************************************************

A week and a half later Hope was pacing her room. She had 3 days before she was to arrive at Hogwarts. She had gotten no further information from her Uncle. They had just gotten home from having dinner with what Hope thought was her only other family. Except Nymphadora had come home for dinner to see Hope. It had been a long time since she had seen her. Her Auror training kept her quite busy.

“Hopefully that little prat Malfoy doesn’t give you a hard time. I hate admitting that he’s our cousin.” After she said it, Hope knew she realized she let something slip.

“I’m sure everything will be fine!” Ted had exclaimed.

“Hope you will love Hogwarts. It is beautiful.” Hope glanced at her Uncle out of the corner of her eye and he was carefully avoiding her gaze. She picked at her food as the four of them talked fondly of Hogwarts. Hope stewed in her own anger instead.

Hope felt rage building within her. She wasn’t a baby anymore. She’d be 14 soon. Granted she wasn’t an adult, she could handle a lot more than Remus had given her credit for. He had led her to believe that himself and The Tonks were her only remaining family. That was clearly a lie. He had been careful to not provide any information on the rest of her Father’s family.

Remus knew what was coming. The other trait Hope inherited from Sirius was her temper. While she held it together much better than Sirius ever did, when she hit her breaking point, she was explosive. She was like a hurricane and he was approaching the eye of the storm. Remus had never been on the receiving end of her anger. He knew tonight would be the night. He knew he would have to give her answers. He could not believe he didn’t consider Draco Malfoy knowing of his relation to Hope.

But what could he tell her to ease her mind? What could he tell her to make her feel better. Any information he had to give her on her father and he wretched family would only hurt her. He knew that hurt all to well. All he wanted to do was shield her from the pain that he knew Sirius had carried with him. He was being idealistic. Wasn’t it better that it came from him and not someone else?

He winced as her bedroom door slammed. He took a deep breath and approached her room. A teenage Hope was something he was ill prepared for. The older she got, the more she became her mother which included Nora’s deep sarcasm and sass, that coupled with anger would mean a most unpleasant experience.

“Hope- please open the door.” Remus sighed leaning against the wall. “You do realize I can just use my wand to open in.” He could picture her face as she considered his words and he braved himself. As anticipated her door whipped open. “We need to talk.” She gave him a withering look.

“Now you want to talk? You’ve had 12 years to talk.”

“Hope-“

“No! Don't 'Hope' Me! I have family! I have a cousin my own age! AND YOU KEPT ME FROM THEM! FOR 12 years all you have done is LIE to me!” Remus had expected anger, but the bitterness that was pouring from her took him by surprise. He heard it so often from Sirius. He felt right then that he had failed Hope. He wanted to save her from this. “I have no friends that actually know me. They think I’m a little weird and that I’m sick because I have these headaches all of the time. They don’t understand me because they’re muggles! I’m alone.” Her last two words were spoken as a sob. Remus realizes the magnitude of his mistake. He felt like an outcast for most of his life. His condition made it hard to really connect with anyone. Everyone thought he was just ill. It wasn’t until James, Sirius and Peter that he felt truly accepted. He at least had his sister before that. Hope had no siblings. Remus pulled his niece into an embrace and she struggled against him for a moment. She finally gave in and let him hold her as she cried. Once she settled down he led her to their living room to sit on the couch.

“Hope, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to isolate you. I didn’t even realize how alone you felt. All I have wanted, all I have ever wanted is to keep you safe. But, I kept you away from your living relatives because it was what your mother wanted.” Hope looked up at her Uncle in utter confusion. Her tear filled face almost broke him. Her silence urged him to continue. “Your father comes from a long line of Pureblood Wizards. The entire Black family are blood purists. Your father and Andromeda were the only ones to push against that. In fact, your father being sorted into Gryffindor was a huge scandal. He ended up being disowned and moved in with James. His parents welcomed him like he was their own. That is why your middle name is Euphemia. It was James’ mother’s name. Sirius’ mother loathed YOUR mother for being a half-blood. When Nora died, the Black family tried to take you from me. Your mother wanted you no where near their hateful rhetoric. They also had no leg to stand on in getting custody of you. So I kept you away from the magical community as much as I could so they couldn’t try to get their hands on you. I just didn’t realize how damaging it was to you. The majority of that family were Death Eaters. They were responsible for your mother’s death. As for Draco Malfoy being your cousin, his mother Narcissa is Andromeda’s sister. Her husband, Lucius Malfoy was among the top of the Death Eater food chain. He also escaped Azkaban by claiming he was under the imperius curse. He continues to believe in blood purity and has unfortunately ingrained that ideal into his son. Hope, I promise you that if anyone other than Andromeda had been a good person I wouldn’t have kept you away.”

“If my father was so against everything that his family stood for, how is it that he ended up being a Death Eater? Did HE kill my mother? What did Voldemort want with her?” Remus could see you spiraling. He took a deep breath and continued.

“Darling I honestly don’t know why your father sis what he did. I do know he loved you and my sister very much. I’m not sure what caused him to switch sides. I can tell you that I am sure he is not the one that hurt your mother. That is unimaginable to me. He started pulling away from me before that. Your mother trusted him implicitly. I wish I had more information for you Hope. As for why Voldemort wanted your mother, it was her Seer abilities. He could have done so much more damage if he had someone like her on his side. That was another reason to keep you away from Sirius’ family. If they were to get their hooks into as a child, they could have corrupted you and manipulated you into doing their bidding.” Hope was silent for a few moments.

“Hope, I’m sorry for the pain I have caused you. I know what it is like to feel like an outcast. To feel so alone and that no one will ever understand you. I should have know. I am so sorry.” He felt Hope lean back into him and he wrapped his arms around her. He couldn’t bring himself to tell you that your father was the reason that James and Lily Potter were dead. That would have been a horrific blow. His mind drifted to the small vault at Gringott’s that held Hope’s name. Inside was the money that Sirius and Nora had amassed from the inheritance Sirius got from his Uncle. Remus made sure to use it carefully to take care of his niece, never using any of it on himself. What really stuck in his mind were the few journals and vials that Nora had left for her daughter. Keeping those from her was something he had struggled with for years. But she were still too young. He was not going to burden her any further. Perhaps in a year or so when Hope came into her own he would bring them to herS There was too much darkness for her young mind. He needed to preserve Hope’s innocence for as long as he could.

“Does Harry Potter know who I am?” Nora knew of Harry. How he had somehow stopped Voldemort. How the two had played together as children. When his parents died he was brought to live with his Muggle family. Hope had overheard Remus and Andromeda mention the Sorcerers Stone and The Chamber of Secrets. It seemed that Harry had a knack for getting into trouble. Hope had tried to catch more details, but the adults in her life were always careful to not share too much information.

“I don’t think that he does. His muggle family doesn’t look kindly on the magical community. From what Dumbledore told me, he didn't even know he was a Wizard until Hagrid had to personally deliver his Hogwarts letter. Apparently his Aunt and Uncle were determined to keep him away from magic and wouldn't give him his letter. He hasn’t been around many people that know of the history that links the two of you. The Weasley children wouldn’t know to mention you. I doubt Molly or Arthur would tell them any personal details without speaking with me first. Dumbledore and the other professors wouldn’t say anything. But you will meet him soon enough.” Hope was itching to meet Harry Potter. Not because he was famous, but because he was a connection the past you so desperately wanted to know. Remus studied your face for a moment, watching you process what he was saying. "You and Harry have quite a bit in common. I have a feeling that you will be good friends. James and Lily would have wanted that, as would your mother."

“Will I ever understand what happened?" How did a loving father and husband turn into a mass murderer? Hope couldn't reconcile the two people that encompassed who her father was.

"Perhaps someday, when you're older you'll be able to reach a level of peace." That didn't really answer her question. Hope still felt like he was holding back, but this was more than they had ever discussed before.

"I'm sorry for shouting at you." Hope looked down, deeply ashamed. She had gotten better at controlling her temper, but occasionally she lost control. She had never behaved this way towards her uncle..

"Oh darling, it's alright. I'm sure this wont be the only go you have at me. You are after all your mother's daughter. She was never afraid to give me a piece of her mind." Hope was grateful for his never ending patience with her.

"I think I'm going to go to bed. I love you, Uncle Remus, very much." She felt his facial hair tickle the side of her head as he gave her a quick kiss.

"I love you too, get some rest." Hope retreated to her bedroom. The polarized descriptions of her father running through her head. What if she was also polarized. The way her Uncle had raised her was the exact opposite of what the Black family believed. But if the entire half of her family were comprised of Dark Wizards, did she have that capability too? In the end, her father had turned that way. Maybe that was why all she could see was black. She too, would turn bad in the end as well.

**************************************************************************************

Hope sat staring into the fire. All of her things had been sent to Hogwarts and were waiting for her arrival. She had spent the morning on her beloved beach. She knew she would miss the briny smell of the air, the way the water would bite at her toes. She wanted to give the Ocean a proper goodbye. It had been her best friend for as long as she could remember. Now the only thing left to do was take the Floo into Professor McGonagall’s office. All of the excitement she had felt had turned into nerves. She had never been apart from her Uncle for more than a few days. Two weeks seemed like an eternity to be with strangers. She knew she was being silly, but she felt the tears welling up in her eyes as she waited for her Uncle to see her off. She looked down at the wand in her hand. 10 1/2 inches of birch wood with a Phoenix core. She had always loved the black and white of birch trees. How the black bark bled into the white leaving shades of gray. The Phoenix feather core gave her a little bit of trouble at first. Remus had reassured her that her wand just needed to get to know her. Phoenix cores were known to be powerful, yet took a while to gain control. In the end, he had been right. She slid her wand into the small bag at her feet and looked back at the fire.

Her visions and dreams had taken a strange form. She felt surges of anger, desperation and an intense sadness. A melancholy so deep she thought she would drown in it. It was affecting her moods more than it every had before. Shades of black and muted grey. But always black. She was starting to loath the color. It was so strange, all she was seeing was the color black, nothing concrete for the past month and a half up until a few nights prior. There had been a flash of purple and a set of green eyes staring back at her. Who they belonged to, she had no idea. Though she assumed she would soon enough. At this point, she only had visions of people she was connected to or came into contact with. Her mother had progressed far beyond that point by the time of her death. Hope didn't know if she would welcome that.

“Ready Darling?” Remus clapped his hands together, smiling at Hope. He too had felt a sinking feeling of being away from Hope for an extended period of time. When he saw the emotion swirling in her eyes he made sure to stuff his back down. “It’s alright. It’s only two weeks.”

“I know.” Hope’s voice felt like sandpaper as it exited her throat. “I’m just nervous.”

“I know. But it will go by quickly. Professor McGonagall will get you acquainted with the school and you’ll meet with your teachers briefly to get to know them. Remember what we talked about.”

“I know. I know. I’m Hope Lupin. I don’t think introducing myself as a member of the Black family will curry me any friends anyway.” Hope scoffed. Remus tried to hide a smile. “No one but Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall know about my abilities so it’s best to keep it quiet for now.”

It had been confirmed that Draco Malfoy knew nothing of their relation. The Minister of Magic himself had instructed Lucius to not breath a word of it and to make sure his wife kept it to herself as well. Hope had no idea why the Minister was so keen on keeping her lineage a secret. It didn’t matter to Hope. She didn’t want to draw any more attention to herself than coming to Hogwarts in the middle of her education would draw. Incidentally, the Weasley children were in the dark about who her father was as well. All they knew was that Hope was the niece of a friend of their Arthur and Molly’s and that she had lost her parents in the war. Remus had never took Hope to The Burrow himself. He had always met up with Arthur. It had been years since they had seen Hope. She always felt overwhelmed by the sheer number of boys in the house. Hope was more inclined to stay with Andromeda and Ted as she got older.

“Just until you’ve found some people that you trust to tell them. Now, Arthur promised me that he spoke to the Fred, George and Ron. They’ll be looking for you when they arrive.”

“What if I’m not in their house?”

“Hope you are brilliant, funny and talented. Regardless of what house you land in, you will make friends. You will find your niche. The same way I did.”

“What if-“ Hope could feel all of her fears that had been festering about to tumble out. “What if I’m a Slytherin? What if I end up just as awful as everyone I’m related to? I mean, my father was wonderful when you were in school and then he turned. What if that is my destiny? What if that is why all I can see is black?” Hope had stood and was pacing. She always paced when she was coming undone. Remus had noticed it had been happening more frequently. He was counting on being at Hogwarts to be a distraction to keep her grounded. Remus stopped her and grabbed her by her shoulders.

“Hope, darling, stop. First of all, all members of Slytherin house are NOT dark wizards. Each house has produced its fair share. If you happen to end up in Slytherin then you will make them proud. You are not destined to go bad. You are not destined to be evil. That’s not how the world works.” He felt her relax. “This is why I’ve always avoided talking to you about them. You are better than that. When you forget that, think of Andeomeda.” Hope nodded her head.

“Okay.” Hope wrapped her arms around her Uncle’s torso and he hugged her tightly.

“Albus and Minerva are there for you while I am not there. But if you need me, all you need to do is send me an owl and I’ll write back immediately.” Hope let go and looked up at her Uncle and forced a smile.

“I’m ready.” He kisses her forehead.

“Remember, it’s only two weeks.” Hope nodded and approached the fireplace. She reached her hand into the bucket and pulled out the floo powder. After taking a deep breath she threw it into the flames.

“Hogwarts!”

**************************************************************************************

Hope stepped out of the large fireplace and brushed the soot off her her clothing. She really hated traveling by Floo. She looked around the small office. To her left was a large window where she could see the Quidditch pitch and what must have been the training grounds. She had expected a more grandiose office for a Hogwarts Deputy Mistress, but the smallness of it made Hope feel safe. Standing next to the desk was a very tall and stern looking woman. Her black hair was pulled back into a tight bun and she wore the most beautiful shade of emerald green robes. Her sternness melted away when she smiled at Hope.

“Welcome Ms. Lupin. I am Professor McGonagall." Hope smiled back.

"Hello Professor."

"I hope you don't mind me saying, but I have so looked forward to meeting you. I enjoyed teaching your mother and Uncle very much." Hope had been expecting the "you look so much like your mother" speech. She was grateful Minerva McGonagall kept those thoughts to herself, though Hope could see it in her eyes.

“Well I do hope you'll share some stories about my mother with me. Uncle Remus has obviously told me so much, everyday. But it would be nice to hear about her from another person's perspective."

“I would be delighted. I look forward to getting to know you over these next few weeks. First thing we must do is get you sorted." As soon as the words hit the air, there was a knock at the door. "Enter!" Professor McGonagall exclaimed. Hope grinned as Professor Dumbledore entered with a dilapidated looking hat. He was so eccentric and wonderfully odd. He radiated calmness which put Hope at ease.

“It's very good to see you again Hope. We are very happy to have you here."

"I wont lie professor, I was a little nervous leaving my Uncle but I do feel better now that I am here."

"I'm very pleased to hear that. I'm sure you'll find all of the staff at Hogwarts will be very willing to help you get settled. Now, we must get you sorted so we can get you set up in a dorm room." Professor McGonagall conjured a chair and motioned for Hope to take a seat. Her Uncle hadn't told her how they would choose her house. She watched wide eyed as Dumbledore approached and put the filthy looking hat on her curly blonde head. After a moment the hat came to life and it made Hope jump. She watched as McGonagall tried to contain a smirk.

“Well, well....what an interesting mind you have brought for me today.I was wondering when the youngest Black member would be joining us. This one will prove to be very difficult, very difficult indeed. I see that you have a long history of Slytherin blood in your veins, but cunning you are not. An ocean worth of talents much like your parents. Hard working and Loyal would make you an excellent Hufflepuff. But what is this? Bravery and courage, a little stubbornness. There it is...the nerve of your father. Let's make it- Gryffindor!" Hope felt her body relax, not realizing how tense she had been. She at least would have some people she knew in her house and hoped she would be able to call them friends.

“Wonderful Ms. Lupin. I will be your Head of House. You will share your room with Ms. Granger, Ms. Brown & Ms. Patil. I'm sure all 3 girls will be most welcoming. I will have your belongings brought to your room. For now, I will take you around to meet your professors."

At the end of the week, Hope was sitting in the common room of Gryffindor House. She ran her eyes across all of the plush arm chairs and couches that she loved to sink into already. Tables adorned the room near the furniture and there was a large bulletin board, while empty now, she was sure it would start filling up come September. She enjoyed the shades of red and gold around the room. It brightened her day and helped push the blackness back into her mind. She loved the extensive windows that looked out over the beautiful grounds of the school. She was drawn to the scarlet tapestries that depicted witches, wizards and various magical animals. They spoke to the artist within her. Though her favorite part was the extensive book collection on the shelves.

She had sent an owl to her Uncle letting him know she had been placed in the house that her and her mother had resided. Also told him off a bit for not warning her about The Sorting Hat. She hadn’t left out what the hat had said. “There it is, the nerve of your father.” had been swirling in Hope’s brain ever since.

Hope looked up as a hooting stirred her from her thoughts. Perched on the Griffyndor window sill was a Tiny Owl. Not often found in Britain, it had her curious. She was pure black and was hopping around the windowsill with a letter tied to her foot. Hope stood from the squishy arm chair she had planted herself in. As soon as she approached, the owl started nipping at her fingers affectionately. She recognized her Uncle's neat hand writing immediately. With a grin she gave the owl a quick pet and ripped open the letter.

Hope-

I'm sorry for not warning you about the Sorting Hat. But really...the surprise is the best part. Mostly for Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore. I didn't want to deprive them of that. I'm glad you're relieved that you're in Gryffindor. I do hope it is because you know the Weasley family and not because you're still worried about going bad. Your house does not determine whether you are good or bad. Yes, your father did have quite a lot of nerve. If I'm being honest, I see a lot of him in your personality. From his younger and more carefree days. The way your eyes smile when you’re happy. The sound of your laugh. You most certainly have his eyes. Hope, I know that many people compare you to your mother quite often and ignore the traits of Sirius. There was a good person there at one point. The good in him radiates from you. However, you are so much more than the parts of her and the parts of your father that can be seen within you. You are your own person. Please don't forget that. I've attached this letter to a beautiful Tiny Owl I found at Diagon Alley. She is yours. I wanted to get you something special for the start of school. Her black nature is rare, but I wanted you to see that black things can be beautiful. That darkness doesn't always have to be bad. Remember, even when you feel that you are in the deepest and most dark parts of your self, there is a light within you that will outshine it. I can't wait to hear what you name her. I'm starting to feel very worn down, but I look forward to seeing you soon. I heard you've impressed both Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick with both your charms and transfiguration abilities. I'm sure Professor Snape will be equally impressed with you, though he may not be willing to show it.

All of my love

-R

Remus always knew the right thing to say. He was right, she needed to push the idea that she would turn bad out of her mind. It was ridiculous. She knew that rationally she was being absurd. She should be excited. She wanted to attend Hogwarts for her entire life. The nerves she felt down were more from excitement than dread. She had already proven herself advanced in Transfiguration and Charms. She knew her Magical History. And while she was horrible in herbology, she hoped that learning with other students would help. She was also confident in potion making, though she was terrified of meeting Professor Snape. The side comments from the other professors lead her to the impression that he was not easily won over. Her Uncle had never mentioned him in a disparaging way, just that he would be a tough teacher. She looked at the clock on the wall and realized that it was almost time to meet with Professor Snape. She hurried to the portrait hole in the wall that swung open and climbed out of the common room, straightening her school uniform as she walked. The uniform would take some getting used to. She was used to jeans, t-shirts and comfortable dresses. Hope quickly made her way through the castle corridors and headed to the Potions Classroom in the Dungeon.

Once she reached the door, she paused for a moment and took a breath. She felt her nerves bubbling to the surface again. She made sure to steel herself and then pushed the door open. The room was rather large. She suspected it had to be to hold a full class of students and all of their potions equipment. The room was so quiet you could hear a pin hit the floor. While the rest of the castle radiated warmth and light, the Potions classroom seemed dark and cold. "How I've felt on the inside." was all Hope could think. There were pickled animals in jars along the wall that gave Hope pause. She had a feeling this would be her least favorite class if she had to look at those. There was a supply cupboard and in the corner of the classroom a basin where the water poured from the mouth of a gargoyle. The room as a whole was intimidating, just not as intimidating as the man stationed near the blackboard. Severus Snape had long black flowing robes adorned to his thin frame. His sallow skin reminded her of the photograph of her father in The Daily Prophet. His black hair was in sheets and framed his face. His dark eyes appeared to have never seen happiness a day in their lives. They both stood silently, sizing each other up. Hope could see recognition in his eyes, he must have known her mother. After what seemed like ages, he finally spoke.

“Good Evening Ms. Lupin. I am Professor Snape. Tonight we will see how adept you are at your potion making. I do hope you've kept up with your studies, I will not tolerate you falling behind." Hope simply nodded. "Tonight you will brew a Sleeping Draught. Standard for any 2nd year student."

"Yes Professor." Hope didn't even try to hold a conversation with Severus Snape. She knew it would be futile.

"Off you go." Hope saw a cauldron waiting. She quickly went to the the supply cupboard and pulled out the Lavender, Flobberworm Mucus, Valerian Sprigs and a large amount of their "standard ingredients". Once she got to her table, she flipped open the book and looked over the instructions. She added 4 springs of lavender and 2 measures of Standard Ingredient into the motar and crushed them into a creamy paste. She then added 2 blobs of Flobber Worm Mucus to her cauldron along with 2 more measures of Standard Ingredient into the cauldron and heated it for 30 seconds. She added the crushed mixture as directed and waved her wand. Time seemed to drag as she waited for the potion to brew. She could feel Snape's dark eyes on her but she didn't dare look up. She hoped this would be a more pleasant experience when the room was filled with classmates. Finally, the potion was ready for trhe next steps. She added the rest of the ingredients in, careful to follow the directions precisely on how to chop and stir. She made the final wave of her wand she saw the dark luscious potion bubbling back at her.

“I’m done Professor.” Snape slowly sauntered to her work station. He looked around and noticed that while she had been waiting for her potion to brew she had cleaned up her station.

“Perhaps you can give your fellow housemates some pointers on organization.” He murmured. He studied her potion, stirring it slightly. After a few agonizing moments. “This is...passable. I was concerned when I found out your Uncle had been educating you.” Hope narrowed her eyes at him. He looked at her smugly, challenging her to contradict him. I’m her mind she was telling him off. Her Uncle was blood brilliant and her potion was perfect. She swallows any remark she wanted to make. When he was satisfied she wasn’t going to mouth off he waved his wand and the potion she made vanished. “You may go.”

“Thank you Professor. Have a good night.” She turned on her heel and quickly left the dungeon, feeling his dark eyes watch her as she fled. As she was rushing back to the Gryffindor Common room she felt the familiar twinge in between her eyes. She knew she was in for a rough night.

**************************************************************************************

Hope had a difficult time settling down for the night. She piercing in her skull had been gaining intensity. For the first time since she had been there she regretted coming without her Uncle. He always knew how to help her feel better. Whether they spent the night talking or he would just sit with her as she struggled so she wasn't alone. He took care of her, he always took care of her. She spent the night tossing and turning, her mind turning against her. Black liquid was flooding her brain. The same pair of green eyes were starring back at her. They would go from a state of shock and morph into eyes of confusion. The feeling of melancholy worked its way back into her soul and it was stifling her. Never before did she ever think that her own mind would suffocate her. She was all alone and there was no one there to wake her from the prison of her mind.

As daybreak hit, Hope found herself in the bathroom with her head over the toilet. The piercing agony in her head was beyond anything she had ever felt before. It was as if someone were driving a hot poker from the fireplace directly into her brain. Tears poured down her face as the last wave of nausea finally passed. She needed help, but she was too weak to get up and go to Professor McGonagall. Instead, Hope laid her head down on the cold hard floor for some brief relief. Cold always helped ease her pain before, but this pain was beyond measure. She needed to at least get back to bed, but she didn't have the strength to pull herself off of the floor. Eventually she slipped into a deep sleep with her face pressed against the floor. After what seemed like only moments later a voice woke Hope up with a start. She sat up quickly and immediately regretted it as the piercing pain returned.

“Hope...my dear are you alright?” Professor McGonagall’s frantic voice filled her ears like hot lava heading to her brain. Everything was too loud. Hope squinted as the brightness burned her eyes and looked up to her Head of House.

“What time is it?” Hope saw sunlight streaming into the room. It had been barely light out when she was last conscious. Confusion flooded her exhausted mind.

“It’s after 2pm. I was informed that you missed your flying lesson  with Madame Hooch. I thought perhaps you had mixed up the time as we've kept you very busy this past week. I went to check the great hall to see if you were eating lunch and the house elves informed me that you hadn’t been down to eat.”

“I’m so sorry Professor. I- I had a bad night." Hope groaned and clutched the side of her head. "My headache was so horrible it made me sick. I've never had one this bad. I couldn't get up to go for help. I must have fallen asleep here. I didn’t mean to miss a flying lesson.“ Minerva helped Hope to her feet.

“I remember your mother having some nasty spells like this. Do not worry about missing your lesson. There is plenty of time for you to learn how to fly on a broom. That isn't what is important. Let’s get you down to Madam Pomfrey. She used to make your mother feel better.” Hope looked down at her baggy sweatpants and your loose V-Neck t-shirt and felt embarrassment flood her face. 

“Don’t worry about how you are dressed. No one will see you. Come Hope.” Professor McGonagall wrapped a firm arm around Hope's body and led her down the stairs and out of the Common Room through the portrait hole. If it hadn't been for the professor's strong grip, Hope was certain she would have fainted.  The walk to the hospital wing had Hope feeling dizzy. As soon as they walked into the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey made a fuss over Hope and got her into one of the beds. Hope heard her tell Professor McGonagall that she would keep her updated. Hope felt a cool compress on her head that was soothing and the room darkened.

Unbeknownst to Hope, she spent the next 4 and a half days in and out of consciousness in the hospital wing. It wasn’t surprising that the healing potions Madam Pomfrey had tried were ineffective, they had never worked well before. The would sometimes take the edge off of the pain so that Hope could function, but this pain was incessant. One evening as Hope slipped briefly into consciousness she heard Professor Dumbledore’s calming voice.

“Remus said she’s never had a spell that has lasted this long. As the full moon is about to hit, he cannot come to the castle. I have precautions prepared for subsequent full moons, but I was unable to get them ready so quickly. He is beside himself with worry and his condition makes him more agitated now than he normally is. I promised to send him updates." Hope felt a pang of guilt. It was bad enough Remus had to deal with the full moon, he shouldn't have to worry about her too. Another set of footsteps approached. Hope was in too much pain and far too exhausted to let them know you were awake. "Oh Severus good." Dumbledore continued speaking. "Do you have it? And you had no problems brewing it?” Hope felt the pain overwhelm her again and she slipped back into the darkness before she could hear Snape's response..

Whatever Severus Snape had brought to Dumbledore was helping. The pain was very slowly dissipating. It also must have been keeping her asleep as she hadn't been awake since the last time she heard Dumbledore's voice. Her dreams had begun to change. Instead of inky black and green eyes, her dreams were  of being a little girl and her Uncle walking her on the beach and in hand. He had a youthful glow about him, but a deep sadness in his eyes. She heard his laugh as he spun her around. They built sand castles and she watched as he helped her paint her first picture. As difficult as it had been for the both of them, Remus had given her a wonderful life.

It was two more days of pleasant dreams and memories before Hope slowly opened her eyes. For the first time in almost a week, the pain was gone. Three pairs of eyes peered down at her, Professor McGonagall, Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape. She was surprised to see that Snape seemed just as concerned as the other two. Hope blinked her eyes to adjust.

“How are you feeling Hope?” Professor Dumbledore gave her a comforting smile.

“I- better- I think. Yes, definitely better. How long have I been here?”

“All week. You gave us all quite a scare. I must say your Uncle is beside himself. He will be arriving tomorrow. I’m sure he will be thrilled to know that you’re on the mend.”

“A week? It’s never been that bad.” Hope looked at Professor Snape. She wasn’t sure if he knew her situation. She wanted to be careful about what she said. Dumbledore must have sensed her apprehension.

“Remus agreed that it was essential to bring in Professor Snape into the fold. We needed his potions expertise. None of the remedies that used to work for your mother were helping you. He was able to brew something up that seemed to help. Though it is not something you can take frequently.”

“Wh- What was it?”

“Oh a very complicated potion. We can discuss that at another time. For now, we will leave you in Madam Pomfrey’s capable hands. I wish for you to stay for the rest of the day just to make sure you are truly okay. You can return to your dormitory tomorrow morning if all goes well. I will stop back and check on you this evening.” McGonagall gave Hope a smile that was filled with relief, where as Snape still looked worried. Without another word, all 3 professors were retreating. When Hope looked to the side table, there sat her sketch book and pencils and smiled. Even from far away, her Uncle was making sure she was getting what she needed.

She spent the day being fawned over by Madam Pomfrey and being fed by House Elves. Hope was obsessed with all things chocolate, a love she and Remus had in common. The chocolate cake from the Hogwarts Kitchen was divine. In between it all, she sketched. She sketched the only thing that had been on her mind for almost two weeks. The pair of emerald green eyes surrounded by a fluid black background. They were quite nice, whoever they belonged too. Hope had  just finished adding the color to her drawing when Dumbledore walked in. He had something in his hands.

“Good Evening Hope. I’m informed you’re doing quite well. I'm happy that Remus wont have to storm the castle to get to the hospital wing to get to you. I see you found your sketch book I had left for you. Remus said it helps clear your mind. May I?” He gestured her book. Hope slowly handed it to him. He studied the eyes staring back at him and it was like a light of recognition went off in his mind, though he didn’t say why. “May I ask what made you draw this?” She sighed. She always had a hard time explaining what you were seeing.

“For a month, all I have seen is darkness, blackness, despair and longing. Then suddenly these eyes started popping into my dreams.”

“When?”

“Not long before I came here. Maybe 2 1/2 weeks ago.” He nodded, but didn’t give anything away. He clearly had an opinion and no plans to share it.

“I brought these for you. I thought you might like them.” He handed her two photos. One was of a much younger Remus and her mother. Remus had his arm around her and they donned their Hogwarts uniforms, they were both grinning madly.  When Hope pulled out the picture behind it, she gasped. There she was, sitting on the lap of a beautiful red headed woman and next to her, on her mother’s lap was a little boy with dark hair and a bright smile. Standing behind Lily was a tall man, with messy dark hair and wire rimmed glasses. Finally, standing next to him and behind her mother was the most handsome man she had ever seen. A man whose face she had only seen a few times, her father. 

“Is that...” Hope’s voice trailed off and she covered her mouth holding in a sob.

“Yes Hope. You’re sitting with Lily. And Harry is with your mother. James and your father are behind you.” Seeing her mother so happy and laughing made tears fill her eyes. She couldn’t have been alive much longer after this was taken. Hope wondered if she knew this was one of the last times they would all be together? She could barely look at her father without her heart breaking. He and James were so joyful and carefree. Harry was turned towards Hope and gripped in his hand was hers. Both children were laughing along with their parents. “Had fate been kinder, you and Harry would have led much different lives. You would have grown up together. I think you will find a very good friend in Harry Potter.”

“Professor, thank you. I-“ Hope couldn’t say anything more.

“You are most welcome. Now don’t get too upset or you’ll get me in trouble.” You laughed slightly as Dumbledore’s blue eyes sparkled down at you. “Now get some sleep. I will see you tomorrow.” Dumbledore smiled once more and headed back from where he came.

Hope spent the rest of the evening staring at the pictures Dumbledore gave her. She wasn’t sure why he had them, but she didn’t much care. She stared at the picture until she fell asleep, dreaming of the family that she longed to have. What would it have been like to grow up with both of her parents or even just one of them? She loved Remus so much, but she couldn’t help wanting what she couldn’t have. Snape's potion must have still been working because for the first time that Hope could remember, she had a dreamless sleep. She slept in the following morning and ate the breakfast that the house elves brought her. When she was done, Madam Pomfrey wished her well and sent her on her way.

When Hope got back to her room she hid the pictures from Dumbledore into the bottom of her trunk. She wasn't quite ready to share that part of her with anyone. She couldn't imagine the reaction to Sirius Black being her father would be a good. one. It was best to keep that photo for just herself, for now. She pulled out a clean uniform and robes and laid them out for later. She dug out some clean lounge clothes and proceeded to take the longest, hottest shower she had ever taken. She ate lunch in the common room while looking through more of the books on the shelves. She lost herself in a copy of "Household Stories from the Collection of the Brothers Grimm" . 

When she realized that her classmates would be arriving any moment. She cleaned up her mess and ran quickly to her room to get changed. Once she was dressed she tried to smooth out her hair, which was pointless. There was no taming the curly blonde locks that adorned her head. She really hoped one of the Gryffindor girls knew a spell to help her straighten her hair. She excitedly bound out of her room and through the portrait hole. She wanted to get to The Great Hall and see her Uncle before the feast started. She rushed through the hall as students started piling in. As she weaved through the mass of students she smacked directly into another student.

She stumbled back and they grabbed her both of her arms with strong hands to steady her. She looked up to see a boy with unruly dark hair, a bit of a scar on his forehead peaked out below his hair. He wore wired rimmed glasses. Behind the glasses stared the eyes that had been haunting her for weeks. The brilliant emerald green eyes belonged to Harry Potter.