#if Willow hadn’t been cheating there was something that could have been good there cause he saw her as a whole person

[magpie-trove]

Season 4 and on Xander when he gets serious giving Buffy and Willow advice, he really starts to shine

[ex-vengeancedemon]

Hey Jealousy

One shot btvs fanfic inspired by this post by @trulyanenchantedrose

Summary: A what-if scenario where in episode 2x01 When She Was Bad, Buffy dances with Spike instead of Xander to make Angel jealous.

Edit: I wrote another version of this fic from Spike's POV called "Payback and Performances"

Read below or on ao3

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Buffy stood in front of her mirror examining the little black dress she had purchased over the summer with something like indifference. It would do for a night out at the Bronze with Xander and Willow. A real head turner. She caught herself wondering briefly if Angel might be there. Not that it mattered. He was just another vampire. And she was the slayer. A match made by some god with a sick sense of irony.

Without bothering to tell her mom where she was going, she grabbed her coat and marched out of the house towards the Bronze. It was a nice night for a walk. As she walked passed the cemetery, she pointedly avoided looking in the direction of the Master's grave. Out of sight, out of mind. Tonight was for letting loose and living life to the fullest. She had to enjoy it while it lasted. It probably wouldn't last long. She had already cheated death once and wasn't expecting any more freebies.

She was surprised when she found herself standing in front of the Bronze with its characteristic illuminated sign. The walk had gone quicker than she had anticipated. She barely even remembered it. It was difficult to stay grounded lately. She often caught herself drifting... and she wasn't sure if returning to Sunnydale had improved the situation. Seeing everyone again, it was a lot to handle all at once. They all wanted her to be fine, to act normal. As if she didn't want that too.

Buffy steeled herself and took a deep breath. She could do this. Whatever fresh hell was thrown her way, she could handle it. She opened the door and entered the Bronze with her head held high and a bravado she found suited to the occasion. Cibo Matto had just started up a new song and the Bronze was packed with people swaying and dancing to the beat. Buffy shrugged off her coat and began to sway in time with the music as she started towards Willow and Xander's table. Of course, they were just sitting there. They never seemed able to make a move without her.

Before she could make it more than five steps through the door, she was intercepted by none other than her old flame, Angel. If he wasn't a centuries old vampire with seemingly constant ominous warnings, she might think he was stalking her. Despite her outward apathy, her mind flashed back to the previous night when he had visited her room. He had said he missed her. She pushed the thought down.

"Hi," Buffy said, raising her eyebrows at him in a sort of question.

"Hi," Angel replied.

He seemed a bit nervous, looking down at the ground. Looking anywhere but her eyes. Figures.

"So, is there danger at the Bronze?" she drawled. "Should I beware?"

Angel sighed and shook his head. "I can't help thinking I've done something to make you angry. And that bothers me more than I'd like."

Was he talking about last night? Or right now? She wasn't angry, but if he carried on like this she might start to be. What did he mean by 'bothers me more than I'd like'? As if liking her was some kind of travesty that he wished he could have avoided.

Buffy shrugged. "I'm not angry. I don't know where that comes from."

Angel seemed unconvinced. Why was it so difficult to get people to take you at your word?

"What are you afraid of?" he persisted. "Me? Us?"

Buffy scoffed. "Could you contemplate getting over yourself for a second? There is no us." She shook her head and gave an exasperated laugh. "Look, Angel, I'm sorry if I was supposed to spend the summer mooning over you, but I didn't."

She thought she could see something like hurt on his face, but she didn't let up.

"I moved on," Buffy continued. Then, as she brushed passed him, she added for good measure, "To the living."

As if to prove her point, Buffy abruptly changed course, heading away from Xander and Willow and towards the dance floor. She caught her friends' puzzled expressions, but she ignored them. She could talk to them later. Or not. If not tonight, then tomorrow. They always seemed to be around. As unavoidable as Angel. Angel who was still watching her every move. What was the saying? We always want what we can't have?

Buffy felt multiple pairs of eyes on her as she scanned the dance floor. The dress was a success then. File that away for later. Finally she settled on a pair of eyes that had been watching her curiously from the edge of the dance floor. He was perfect. Bleached hair with a long black leather jacket, all he was missing was the studs for the punk-rock vibe. He looked like she felt: dangerous and out for trouble. It didn't hurt that he had a face that screamed "if looks could kill". That was important. But this wasn't retaliation, Buffy told herself, it was fun. It wasn't about Angel. It was about having a good time, and forgetting about-

Buffy strode up to the stranger as a bemused expression flickered across his features. Or maybe it was alarm? She couldn't really be sure. The lighting was dim.

"And just what can I do for you?" the stranger asked, raising an eyebrow with a smirk.

He had a British accent. Kind of like Giles. Only not like Giles. God, she really didn't want to be comparing him to Giles right now. She didn't want to be thinking of Giles at all. Or of vampires. Or slaying or any of it.

Buffy tilted her head in her best attempt at looking flirtatious. "Well this is a dance floor. Dance with me."

The stranger's eyes widened slightly and he let out a low chuckle. "Who am I to refuse a lady?"

Buffy took his hand and pulled him out into the center of the dance floor. No point in having fun if no one could see it. She spotted Angel still standing at the back out of her peripheral vision. Good. Maybe this would be what he needed to move on. She shoved down the sharp pain that thought caused.

Spinning around to face her new dance partner, Buffy slowly raised her hands above her head and began swaying her hips to the music. It was a slow, sultry song, which was perfect for all intents and purposes. Her partner placed his hands on her waist and pulled her closer as he moved along with her.

He leaned in closer to her ear and said, "Name's Spike."

"I don't remember asking," Buffy replied, moving her arms down over his head.

What kind of name was Spike anyway? Guess it matched his general vibe.

Spike just grinned back and pulled her flush against him. "Oh you're a fiery one. I like it. Got to appreciate a girl with flair."

Buffy locked eyes with him, holding his gaze just a bit too long. She suddenly felt very exposed. Like she had been caught doing something she shouldn't. She hastily turned around with her back facing Spike, wrapping his arms back around her waist as she did so.

He leaned down next to her ear and asked, "Is that your beau over there?"

"What?" Buffy asked, startled out of an almost trace-like state.

Even though she had asked who he was referring to, she knew he meant Angel. She had been watching him discreetly, sneaking glances here and there. At the moment, Angel's face was pale - even more so than usual - and drawn. If she had wanted to get under his skin, it looked like she was succeeding.

"The git you've been eyeing," Spike replied. She could feel him smirk against her ear. "What'd he do to merit this little show?"

Buffy reached up and put her hand behind his head, moving slowly down and then back up again. Spike's hands traced lightly along the curves of her body, barely concealed under the thin layer of fabric. She was keenly aware of his every move. Just as she was keenly aware of their observers. Even Willow and Xander had begun to gape.

As she moved his head back down to her neck, she answered, "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Spike turned her around and placed his arms on her shoulders, locking his hands behind her. "Bloody right I would. But, I'll settle for evening the score. Want to give him a real show?"

He took her chin between his thumb and index finger and lifted her head up slightly. This time when they locked eyes, Buffy didn't look away. Taking that as an invitation, Spike leaned down and kissed her. The kiss started out slow but quickly deepened in a way familiar to the desperate and afraid. She shivered slightly as his hand traced up her spine. She hoped Angel was watching. She hoped they all were. She was fine. Perfectly fine.

Buffy pulled away, her skin slightly flushed, as the song came to an end. "Guess that's curtains."

"A gentleman would walk a lady home," Spike replied, still holding onto her waist.

"Are you a gentleman?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" he replied, mimicking her earlier line.

He raised an eyebrow at her and offered her his arm. She hesitated for a moment before accepting it. It was only a walk. And leaving with Spike was sure to get a reaction out of- Nobody. It didn't matter.

She caught Spike winking at Angel as they walked to the door. Now that might be a bit much, but she elected to ignore it for now. She glanced back at Angel one last time, and was startled to find him glowering after her. She had expected some emotion from him, yes. But she hadn't thought it'd be anger. Why wouldn't it be? a little voice in her head whispered. He was a vampire. Anger was kind of the default.

Buffy and Spike had only gotten maybe 10 yards outside the Bronze when Buffy heard the metal door slam open.

Angel came rushing out and yelled after her. "Buffy!"

Spike took his hand back from Buffy and gave her a charming smile. "Well, I think that's my cue."

With that, he walked off - in no apparent hurry - with his hands in his pockets, leaving a bewildered Buffy behind him. Angel had broken out into a sprint and was barreling toward her and the whole situation seemed almost comical.

"Angel?" Buffy asked, giving him an irritated look. "What the hell?"

Spike raised an arm up and waved without looking back. "I'm sure I'll be seeing you around, Slayer!"

The blood rushed out of Buffy's face and her jaw clenched. How could he know that?

"Oh, and Angel?" Spike said, turning around and continuing to walk away backwards. "Your girl? Delicious."

He gave one last satisfied grin before disappearing around the corner.

Angel ran up next to her and stopped. Buffy wasn't sure she knew what to say. Angel wasn't saying anything. He was just glaring after Spike.

"Who the hell was that?" Buffy finally asked him.

-----

Note: Had to write it a bit out of character since the timing is so early in the seasons. My excuse for Angel not doing anything immediately is that Spike was threatening Buffy when she couldn't see and so Angel didn't do anything then. But since its written from Buffy's pov she wouldn't have known. Anyway, enjoy!

[wlw-lovestruck-fiction]

Mc being super drunk and dragging Cecelia to dance with her. At first Cecelia is worried about MC but ends up having fun dancing with her and enjoys her flirty drunk personality. At the end of the night, MC sinks into Cecelia’s embrace as they slow dance

Written by: @evoedbd​

The Saloon was alive. The throbbing heartbeat of the sleepy little town, Wisp Willow. As the sun sulked, and the moon reigned, the Saloon roused. Even the most straight laced of folk came in from the unforgiving cold, lured in by the smell of fine food, of cigar smoke and leather.  Of a home away from the homes many had left for their new start out in the Devil’s Backbone. People sat in clusters around their tables, laughter and chatter floating on a tide of wistful piano notes or a swish of Ada’s skirts. Some danced to the jolly jigs, kicking their heels and trying not to entomb their spurs in the floorboards in their drunken staggering. The sound of boots across the floor only added a beat, an intimacy to the din. Din which flittered by those seated around a table in the corner, just to the left of the door. The table with the greatest vantage point.

An odd bunch they were, none looking like another. No rhyme or reason as to why they’d be seated together, let alone throwing coin with laughter and barbs of their own. Yet not one person in that Saloon, dead drunk or stone cold sober, would deny how intimate the table was. How comfortable they were with one another. They shared the type of security come from risking life and limb together, they did. The Wardens. Nobody knew just what they did or who they were, precisely, only that even the Sherrif made way for them. That made folks antsy round them. It was safer to avoid that type of crowd when possible.  Less complications that way.   Thus, nobody paid them heed, offering the perfect place to relax and unwind for the unusual crowd.

“Who knew all it takes is a few drinks to make the Moonlit Outlaw play like crap?” At the table, Nathan Cayde’s voice cut above the din, the lilt of his voice strutting through the sound of the upbeat piano.  

That earned a huff from Roslyn Arosi, the forementioned Moonlit Outlaw.

Nathan’s earnest glee radiated from him, almost as if he were a cool breeze in the harsh frontier desert.  With his lively, deep blue eyes glimmering like a mirage, lips peeled into a good-natured smile.   It never ceased to amaze her how he could smile like this, as if his actions weren’t a one-way ticket to disappointment on a bad hoss.  Least he wasn’t some yellow belly, the way he gigged up to the table of cheats, seers and demons.  Perhaps his ghastly status was enough to earn him some reprise, yet it wasn’t bout to save his dignity.  A fact proven by the cackle which came from the impish woman across the table the moment Nathan’s money collided with the wood.

He shook his head, drawing Roslyn’s attention. His wavy locks, one many might be long to cut to lessen such a beautiful man, proved aptly distracting to The Moonlit Outlaw. Lord’s mercy, was it wrong to want to run her fingers through those fine hairs?  To see if the beginnings of curls felt as smooth as they looked?  It wasn’t like she was fixing for his bed, nor pressed for fine company in said regard, but watching those locks bounce with every tilt of his head, or the broody fix of his chapped lips, roused a curiosity in her drunken state.  She watched the ends bounce round his jawline, contrasting the harsh line of his beard. A beard better suited to the Ace-High parts of town, a dab too neat for the rougher parts, but by the devil’s charm did it gruff up Nathan’s otherwise baby like face.   For all his chiseled jawline, the grizzled gauntness to his cheeks and heavier brows, his petite little nose added this aspect of utter adorability to the man, enough that the moonlit outlaw found herself fixing to bop it… or maybe poke it?  A little pinch to the adorable button?

She settled for a sloppy poke to his cheek, which earned a chorus of amused laughter.  Even Roslyn laughed, though, she wasn’t quite sure why.  It felt good to laugh with friends, to let go, even with Fiona sitting across the table like a predatory cat ready to devour the mice.  Roslyn swore she could almost see a tail swishing, though that might have also been the alcohol flooding her veins.

“Come on, Roslyn.  Show us some spark.” If Nathan’s voice had been a strut, Fiona’s goading words were a skip.  A teasing, coy swish of skirts and mysterious smile to match the Seer’s very nature.   Keen, golden brown eyes twinkled; their brightness only intensified by the smudged, dark eyeshadow. Fiona made no effort to hide her borderline sadistic mirth as she sized up the table, lording her knowledge over them with taps of her armored fingers against the backs of her cards and a subtle glint of teeth in an overly satisfied smirk, added to a subtle downturn of a pointed chin to her collar; a demure little jest between those at the table.  The almost childish image of braids peeping from beneath her hood added to long with the tufts of an unevenly cut fringe, didn’t detract from the spooky allure. Here she was, optimism and mischief, cheekiness and mysterious magnetism set upon an undercurrent of a mournful disconnect, all wrapped into a woman strutting a line between adorable and sexy with an element of spook that set many hearts fluttering.  Of course, butterflies did nothing to soften the downright wicked grin as Fiona continued tapping, a subtle reminder to all that the only other human at the table held the future in her palms.  Was savoring her victory, toying with everyone there like an adolescent cat having found a wayward old mouse.

“She’s saving it for her bed tonight.” Sascha purred, the wicked upturn of his lips leaving nothing to speculation when it came to the meaning of his words.  As always, his voice was almost liquid sex, a dose of lust accompanying his crude observation. Roslyn could almost feel heated breath across her ear, the seduction in the words translated directly to her soul, drawing out every memory of what could follow.  His little trick radiated through the room, had women shuffling awkwardly in their seats, men clearing their throats just a tad too loudly as they tugged at their neck ties.  Even the pianist stuttered, a key pressed a tad too roughly, slipped off.

A mood killer if ever there was one.  Roslyn flinched, hand tipping for the briefest moment.  Enough for Sascha to get a glance of her cards, she wagered.

Sascha Orosco looked far too pleased with himself as he slouched back in his chair, fixing the table with one of his feline grins.  An expression designed to be kissed away, hard and demanding.  All lust and unquenched heat. A devil’s snare if ever there was one.  Not that a jawline stronger than a king’s military didn’t help, nor those high cheekbones, sharp enough to cut yourself on.  He was the type of man momma told you not to run off with, the type who promised to leave you ruined by the time he burned through you… but being burned was too much a thrill to ignore.

“A chance to play to the gallery?  I’d love to” The witch retorted, words slurring together a little.  She had to pretend not to notice the ripple of concern travel throughout the group.  The guilt briefly illuminating Sascha’s magenta eyes. Darn it all, she hadn’t meant to find herself so deep in cups, hells bells, she’d even partaken of less than her usual amount.   She never should have listened to Sascha, have branched from her usual poisons.   She may be a woman of many, many vices, but her vices were all kept rightly in check.  If not by her own efforts, then by her partner’s.  When working alongside the Desert Rose of the Devil’s Backbone, one learned quickly to keep their wits about them.

Her lips twitched.  She was always aware of the regal vampire’s presence.  The untamed beauty. A queen of the night, much like the Queen’s in a few hands.  It was easy to imagine Cecelia’s face upon those cards, fangs and bloodied butterflies, sharpness nipping at the fingers touching her, or a blow to Nathan’s boots.  His grunt was enough for Roslyn’s magic to spark, to bring about the drunken images of dancing numbers, of beating hearts and digging spades.  Effortless.  A breath.  A laugh at the startled faces of her competitors, except Fiona.   The mystic was too busy smiling like a cat who’d just lapped up the last of the cream.

“Ahhh.”  The seer began, her voice amazingly bored.   A dexterous flick of her wrist had her cards spraying across the table, a pair of aces hiding amongst them, to land directly in front of a grumbling Nathan.

“Well… I fold.” Fiona’s casual surrender was delivered with a perfectly innocent shrug.  Roslyn’s eyes narrowed.  Even sunken to the ocean floor, she could read that something was… off?  It wasn’t her hood.  Perhaps pantihose?  No, somehow Fiona didn’t seem the sort to be reactive to that kind of thing.  Or rather, not reactive in this way… With her dress being so short, wouldn’t everyone know if she was taking command of her nethers?

“Say what now?” Nathan gaped; his eyes fixed on her cards for a split second before shifting back to her face.

“I thought you were using your gifts to win, not buy all my expensive drinks.” Roslyn’s barb was met with a chuckle from the table, along with another innocent gesture from Fiona… Roslyn wasn’t buying the act.  Not for a single second.  Not even with Fiona’s money.

“You’re an absolutely delightful drunk, Miss Arosi.  A worthy cause to lose a days payment to.  I fold.”  Sascha purred, his charm laid on thick, complete with a playful wink as he laid his cards down.   Roslyn couldn’t relax, couldn’t focus, couldn’t think.  Her eyes shifted between smirks, between sly grins exchanged around the table, all the way to Nathan’s grouchy huff.

“You’re not the ones who have to manhandle her and her little demon.  I fold.”

“Hold on now!” Roslyn began, hand sliding across the table as she tried to right herself, intent on giving the cowboy a piece of her mind.  It failed of course, given the room begun to swim, her chair tilted, until she surrendered to gravity and allowed herself to fall, full bodied onto the table.

“I’m the one roostered one, not Enzo.”

“If I don’t copper my bets, this game will last hours… besides, I foresee you’re going to be busy.” Fiona continued to tease, lifting a hand to dramatically touch the space between her eyes.  She acted up the gig, Cheshire smile fixated so firmly in place Roslyn doubted when a herd of mustangs could drag it down.  Sascha straightened before she could retort, his eyes shifting to the door, brightening with rich amusement and a deep seeded satisfaction, his need for lust sated for the moment.

“I foresee five foot ten.  A rather fetching jawline.  A smile sharper than moonlight on a starless night-”

“Cecelia!” Roslyn realized out loud, jerking up in her chair.  She didn’t even hear Sascha, nor the table.  There was a serenity to the presence approaching her, like the moment one went underwater in a cool, refreshing lake… followed by the hyperawareness of every droplet of water running across one’s skin when they surfaced; the jitters assaulting her in full swing.  Those pesky nerves marched down her arms, lifting the hairs in places many might say hairs had no place rising.  The moment before lightning sizzled in her veins, even as the breath of calm approached her from behind.

Instinctively, Roslyn turned to that presence, letting her gaze fall upon the Desert Rose.

“I didn’t even get to the marble bust-”

“Have some respect for the woman. She’s your boss!”  Nathan’s scolding served as a timely interruption for Sascha’s playful leering.  The Demon’s brows ceased wiggling, flicking for a breath before he commented offhandedly.

“I forgot I was drinking with a prude apparition.”

“I’ll give you an apparition.” Nathan grumbled, reaching for his bottle.  Bottle?  That was a good idea! Her mouth was quite dry after all, her head empty. Where was Roslyn’s drink again? Blindly, she groped around the table for it, only to find the welcoming rasp of well-loved wood.

“Judging by the gleam in your eye, Sascha, Roslyn’s providing quite a soaked feast.” Fiona’s words drew Roslyn’s attention.   Damn it, the Seer’s golden eyes had too knowing a glint to them, a cat who’d gotten the cream, complete with a little milk moustache.  Sascha wasn’t much better.  The Incubas was practically preening as he leaned back in his chair, lazy, Cheshire smirk forming across her unfairly attractive lips.

“Half the patrons are.  The Desert rose makes quite an entrance.”

That she did.  Even across the room, Cecelia cut an intimidating figure.  A blade through the night, straight to Roslyn’s gut.  Goddess, Mother of Night, was Cecelia able to make an entrance.  Demons strutted, Fiona kind of skipped, Nathan had this floatiness to him.  But Cecelia… Cecelia redefined reality.  The world existed only to be a backdrop to the Supernatural perfection of every step, smoother than any criminal could hope to be, the perfect predatory stalk reimagined into casual yet purposeful strides… So many conflictions that SHOULDN’T work, but Lord did they work for Cecelia Visconti.

Roslyn was stuck watching, breath catching at each stride, at the flex of those impossibly strong legs clad in form fitting charcoal black trousers.  The casual confidence in those strides, the power of those legs… Roslyn had ridden horses with less.  The smallest part of sense in her brain warned her to look away, her sluggish body thought that meant down.  Straight to the vine engravings across Cecelia’s boots, gold gleaming across chocolate straps, which in turn bound midnight leather… it was a miracle that Roslyn did not collapse to her knees, that she could fight the urge to press her lips to those vines in devotion.  Why else did such a perfect being exist if not to be worshipped?

“They damned well better be respectful about their thirsts.  Cecelia could rightfully have their heads.” Nathan’s continued griping bought Roslyn a moment of clarity.  The entire table could hear the underlying, unspoken threat to Nathan’s statement.  That if Cecelia did not claim the heads, that Roslyn might have a collection of balls to kick down the streets.  An image which had said Witch snorting before taking another healthy swig of her booze.

“Doubtful she’ll notice when Roslyn’s half seas over. She’ll soak up all of Cece’s attention.” The way Fiona practically purred the last word left very little to the imagination.

“She does seem to have partaken of too much alcohol.” The unmistakable voice of Cecelia Visconti echoed in Roslyn’s ears, serenading her mind in an untouched vault of time for sober her to process later on.  This was accompanied by a grounding touch to her far shoulder, the tips of Cecelia’s claws prickling through Roslyn’s cottons.  The Witch surrendered to baser instincts, shuddering with delight as she leaned back into the Vampire, head resting against the Immortal’s lace covered shoulder, and downright shamelessly admired Cecelia’s visage.

Cecelia was a beauty unlike any Roslyn had seen.  The Vampire was every inch as regal as the Princesses from the worn fairytales tucked away in Roslyn’s rucksack.  She was also the mysterious seductive huntress from the penny dreadfuls hiding beneath Roslyn’s pillows.    Her lips were fine, bathed in midnight red which stood starkly from skin the delicate shades of fallen snow.  Her pale complexion blended the cut of her jaw into the graceful heights of her cheekbones.  The faintest dappling of blush concealed that supernatural perfection, blending Cecelia with the land of the mortal living.  Even across the room, the deep greens and greys of her garb seemed unable to dull the glorious mane of chestnut, the luxurious hair hanging down below her shoulders… all lost to the devil’s snare of winter greys.  Gentle eyes made to appear angular by an overly generous portion of eyeliner and smokey red eyeshadow.

“Or perhaps of a more potent variety.  Tricks of an Incubas, perhaps?” Cecelia’s comment was accompanied by an accusatory brow arched in Sascha’s direction.  Despite the inconvenience, Cecelia somehow seemed amused, fit to saw the Incubus. A mental game where she was steadily tightening a noose around the Incubus’ throat as she smiled.  An undisguised trap she practically dared Sascha to sacrifice himself to, for what she might do if he didn’t simply acknowledge the corn.  It seemed Sascha was not willing to take the risk, given his simple response.

“I would be amiss not to slake a lady’s thirst.”

“Slake?” Nathan demanded, laughter dancing beneath his tones.

“More like you aimed to drown her.  She’s as full as a tick!”

At the confessions, at her victory, Cecelia seemed to preen.  A quiet, subtle shift to how she held her head.  She’d had her blood, albeit metaphoric, and was sated for the moment.  The quiet tinge of smugness remained as she gathered her chair, and proceeded to ignore how the wood screeched as she dragged it across the floorboards.  Even as she gathered her own chair, she never jostled her shoulder, never disrupted Roslyn’s drunken obsession.  If anything, the Vampire seemed to encourage it, given the playful flicker of a wink she offered Roslyn once she finally managed to claim her seat.

It was unfair how such a simple expression could have Roslyn’s cheeks flushing with more than the warmth of her booze.  How Cecelia’s quiet intensity could shake the Witch’s very foundations, until she had to look down like a blushing maiden.  Of course, that meant she was face to bust with Cecelia.  Hells Bells, she just wanted a fair shake at seeming like she had a control on her libido.

But how was it a fair shake when said bust was concealed only by see intricately decorated, rose vined lace which left the sharpness of her collarbones exposed like the worst kept, sexiest secret this side of the Devil’s Backbone?  Roslyn’s cheeks flushed at the realization that it was not merely the lace panels of her grey button up, but Cecelia’s lacy undergarments that added to the teasing vision.  It was only running into the hard edge of grey across the swell of Cecelia’s forementioned bust that broke Roslyn out of her thoughts, and mercifully tore her from the teasing of the black corset defining Cecelia’s boddice.

“Not to worry, miss Visconti, I’ve left a particular thirst for your enjoyment.” The Incubus commented, his pointed gaze fixed out on Roslyn and her current occupation.  The entire table shuffled, gazes anywhere but where Roslyn’s was.    That didn’t make sense to the drunken Witch.  Cecelia was stunning, why ignore that?  It wasn’t like Cecelia was hid- oh… Leering wasn’t becoming.  But it was Cecelia!  Innocently, Roslyn’s gaze rose, meeting Cecelia’s.  Amusement twinkled there, the gleam of waves in oceans far deeper than anybody could comprehend.  Whatever darkness swum in those depths were known to the depths alone, much like Cecelia’s thoughts.   Much like her pains.  It may have been the booze talking, or the heat of Cecelia’s gaze, but Roslyn was willing to drown in those depths if only to take a droplet of the pain from Cecelia’s lonesome.

“It seems this Witchling is drawn to things both deadly and beautiful.” Sascha’s words fell un unhearing ears.

“Cecelia, lovely, dance with me!” Roslyn was urging, sacrificing her place of comfort to spring to her feet.  She lurched, held only by Cecelia’s gentle arm around her waist.  The Witch fell, sprawling into Cecelia’s arms with nothing more than an excited giggle.  The vampire’s chest heaved with suppressed laughter, even as those talons came to brush some of Roslyn’s hair away from a clammy forehead.  There was such a tenderness to Cecelia’s innocent gesture, something that stole the breath from Roslyn’s chest even as Cecelia’s lower voice came.

“Oh Witchling, I doubt your feet would hold you to these tunes.”

“Don’t worry, Cece,” Fiona began, that mischievous grin coming back tenfold.

“I foresee the music is about to change.”

For a brief moment, Roslyn and Cecelia stared at the seer, both processing her words.  The Saloon had fallen quieter, the makeshift dancefloor abandoned as the melancholy notes of the piano rung.   It was as if the patrons dared not speak over the beauty, the story each note wove through their ears.

“I suspect this is more foreplaned than foreseen.” The note of skepticism within Cecelia’s voice had the table smiling.  Even the lord of disapproval himself seemed to find something endearing about the antics.  A series of shared glances and grins launched a silent debate, who would take the fall and who would claim credit.  A blink, a shuffle of the cards, a twitch of a brow.  The quirk of lips, then a glance towards Kellen. Finally, it was the brave little Seer who spoke up.

“I see the jig is up.  Would you deny us our entertainment, Cece?” Fiona wheedled, her eyes large and brimming with their innocence, a display of her deceptive talents.  Nathan didn’t even try to put on a puppy face, instead tipping his head in an effort to hide behind his hair.  Sasha’s attempt at a convincing face looked more suited to a brothel.  Then, there was Kellen.

Concern on his face was… it didn’t belong.  The demon’s exotic face was practically carved to express disapproval.  From his low set brow resting over the most worn, blazing eyes of literal hellfire, he gauntness to his cheeks which led into the sharp angle of his jaw.  Hells Bells, even his lips were the damn poutiest Roslyn had ever laid eyes on.  His face was young enough to be brotherly, yet the transition from dark black to frosty white along each tussle of hair gave the salt and pepper look of a father.  Double doses of disapproval and disappointment, nuff to drag one’s stomach out their pucker and their heart into their gut.  Heck, if his regality didn’t drown you, his dapper stylings were able to remind everyone that he was better.  That he was far further refined than any mortal clutching at the nature of sophistication he had in the toes of his boot, nevermind his whole visage.

Why was he concerned now, of all times, for her?  They clashed, so violently.  He was due process, whereas she was chaos.  She was the one who’d swept into town off of theft from murderers, and in turn pocketed their finest Ranger as her partner in, well, law.  Criminally amazing law.  Right, so she and Visconti also chaffed each other at first, yet how they’d come together as a team was leaving the other Wardens in the dust.  They were better, she’d admit that while sloshed.  They got things done, they helped PEOPLE as people instead of objectives.  Instead of seeing that, Kellan seemed more disturbed that his Ranger was straying from the rigidness he’d shackled her in.  Shackled to save… Mother night, it was fucked up.  What he’d sacrificed and endured as punishment for revering life.

Cecelia. That was their common ground.  Kellan might have been the man to have raised Cecelia, but he was not the one to draw her from her shell.  He wasn’t what Roslyn was to the vampire.  His presence was order, was the reminder of Cecelia’s indirect imprisonment.  Roslyn was chaos.  The freedom. Kellan was the ground, where Roslyn was the sky.  Cecelia needed both, but for so long she’d been kept on the ground due to the hurricanes in her life.  Roslyn refused to lose Cecelia to those hurricanes, just as she refused to accept that Cecelia should never use her wings.  Yet, if she were Kellan, she doubted she could let go any easier than he. Kellan was Cecelia’s childhood, when she needed him.  Roslyn was Cecelia’s true stride into adulthood, her testing of the shackles the Ward had groomed her to praise.   Of all the nights, this was the one where Roslyn was the direction everyone needed Cecelia to step.  The fact she lingered… this was way too heavy for her drunken mind to wrangle.

Cecelia’s loud sigh signaled her surrender.

“I suppose a dance in an innocent enough request.”

The table broke into cheers, all save Kellan taking up the encouraging chant.

“Dance.  Dance, dance, dance.”

Kellan’s lips merely twitched into an approving line, a sip of his drink concealing the encouraging nod he sent Roslyn’s way.  Somehow, her drunken mind latched onto the sense of victory, the acceptable and belonging of a family she’d never truly had.  It was enough to make her smile, to lean closer to the cool body she’d been warming.  Cecelia, for her credit, remained composed.  Quite a feat, given she had a lap full of drunken Witch and a table chanting for her to make a public spectacle of herself right in front of the man who’d raised her.  How she was so composed, Roslyn had no idea, only that this was not the night she’d envisioned.  She needed to see that youth that immortality had preserved in Cecelia for so long.  Needed to see those cheeks flush and that stoic veneer crack.

“Come on, lovely, I know several dances that don’t need any music.” The Witch purred, squirming, wiggling her rump deeper into the cave of Cecelia’s body until she could safely turn.  Still, Cecelia barely seemed phased, watched with those gorgeous eyes.  What Roslyn wouldn’t do to see the disguise fall way.  To see the blood moon of the Visconti vampire.  If even for a blink.  With two fingers, pointer and middle, Roslyn stroked from the hinge of the jaw, a teasing touch that whispered across chilled flesh and fell from Cecelia’s pointed chin.  As if she might wipe away the illusion, to see those terrifying depths.  Was it even a case of willingness to drown anymore?  Or had it become desire?

“You seem bereft of what little propriety you usually possess, little Witchling.” Cecelia’s response was delivered quietly, the tone relaxed, almost indifferent, save for the smallest catches.  What such a tone did not possess was what urged Roslyn to push harder.  Dared her, even.  Then, there was Cecelia’s hand, lifted to catch hers.  The Vampire prevented Roslyn’s second pass at a touch, yet those talons caught the Vampire’s earlobe, tugging it lightly even as she guided Roslyn’s hand down.  All Roslyn could do was stare, lose herself in the depths of Cecelia’s eyes once more.  Hunting.  This was a hunt, the thrill running down Roslyn’s spine.  Cecelia, the perfect prey, thus far… but how could a mere mortal hunt immorality? Unless… said immortal was playing the game.

That drew the most unholy of smirks to Roslyn’s face, even as she worked to throw one of her legs over Cecelia’s.  Her legs hung, toes swinging, weight supported by nothing save the vampire.  Flying and grounded.  Earth and sky.  Roslyn was the prey, with a hunter gracious enough to allow her dignity.  All it would take is one movement, one moment where Cecelia lost herself or lost her patience, and Roslyn would bear the cost.  She was so close to the fire, playing with an inferno.  She had Cecelia between her thighs, more power than the most expensive stallion from any estate in the east.  If Cecelia bucked…  The Witch wanted that. She wanted Cecelia to buck, wanted the Vampire to lose her patience, to cling with more than the gentle hands against the curve of her waist.  

“You could bereft me of far more, darling.” She purred, letting the huskiness of alcohol sink her voice into the sinful satiny tones.  In a motion as smooth as silk, for a drunk at least, Roslyn slunk her arms around Cecelia’s neck, fingers weaving into the vampire’s glorious locks even as she rocked herself closer, leaving no space between herself and Cecelia.  She had to cling with her thighs, squeeze the Vampire so she could lift herself out of the chair, to look down at her huntress.   The Witch could only swallow, licking her lips before leaning close enough that her next words were only for the Vampire’s delicate ears.

“Then…” The Witch let her breath brush the shell of Cecelia’s ear, the tease of the corner of her mouth adding in as she let her words become heated.  The filthiest things, every dark desire, her deepest secrets painted in the most scandalous of tones she could muster.  Requests, nay, demands that would have demons blushing.  That HAD demons blushing.

“HAH!” Fiona laughed in absolute awe; eyes blown wide.  Roslyn’s met hers, the Witch giving that unholy smirk to the Seer for a split second before even Fiona found herself overwhelmed on Cecelia’s behalf.

“Oh hells… please stop.” Nathan groaned desperately, face flushed, eyes haunted.  He had to avert his gaze when Roslyn’s teeth closed around Cecelia’s ear.

“Oh, please do continue. This is delightful… is she truly that flexible?” Sascha barked with glee, a glimmer of a demonic tongue brushing across his lower lip.   The Incubus fed, eyes seeming to glow as he took in such a potent meal before him, only encouraged by the appearance of little horns peeking from beneath the table.

“According to the Lady’s Arms patrons? My mistress is the most flexible human they’ll ever meet!” Enzo declared almost proudly, earning a few tensed chuckles at the implications of such a statement.  Roslyn was far too drunk to care.  Lost in alcohol and power, in the game she so desperately needed to win, but so desperately wished to lose.  Was there anything but victory from such a game?  Something so pure could never be a loss, not for her, not for how the flames were licking up her spine. She could feel it, Cecelia’s composure cracking.  It came in the pricks of talons.  In the occasional flex between her thighs, something she answered with another dirty line expressing her appreciation.  How close could she dance to this fire before it consumed her?  It seemed she was never going to find out given the look of horror on Kellan’s face as he finally, FINALLY, spoke up.  Given his discomfort, she couldn’t help but silently query if his voice was the only thing rising.

“Cecelia! For the seven layers of hells and every bell that might ring, shut Arosi up! Those of us with fine hearing don’t wish to hear such-”

“I’m sure I can find something to occu-”

Cecelia never let Roslyn finish. Cecelia’s hand came to her jaw, cradling it sweetly even as the pad of her thumb fell tenderly across the Witch’s lips.  All it took was a single talon, pressed ever so tenderly to Roslyn’s lips for the Witch to still, to surrender. The moment Roslyn did, Cecelia gently slid her thumb away, caressing the line of Roslyn’s lip then the swell of her cheek, a gesture which stilled Roslyn’s heart.

“Quiet now, Witchling. I’ll give you your desired dance if you cease haunting our ghost. Your brazen attempts to make me blush are for naught.” The Vampire urged, corners of her lips twitching, teasing the smile Roslyn was so devoted to drawing out.  The table, the Saloon, the world.  Everything in existence needed to see the radiance.   Such a small expression, something so simple and true, such beauty it could chase the darkness of evil from the comforting shadows of night.

“Give me an hour.” The Witch said, giving a sloppy waggle of her brows.  That did it.  Cecelia cracked, lips quirking up into the fondest smirk Roslyn had ever laid eyes on.

“You would be asleep within ten ticks, much less an hour.” Cecelia’s comment was delivered on a smile.  Forever gentle hands gathered beneath the Witch’s thighs, holding them steady before Cecelia merely stood up, baring the weight as if it were that of a feather instead of an entire being.  For a second, Roslyn simply indulged, smiling peacefully as she leaned her forehead into Cecelia’s collar.  She was warmer, warmed by her contact with Roslyn, yet still refreshingly cool, enough that Roslyn could feel her body drooping into the relaxation, a realm of half consciousness and safety.  Then Cecelia wasn’t holding her.  Falling.  She yelped, clawing at Cecelia.

“Careful!” The Vampire was equally as quick.  One hand caught beneath her thigh, encouraging the leg around her waist even as the vamp’s other arm wrapped around her torso.  Again, she was weightless, held aloft by Cecelia’s strength.  Again, she was entangled with the Vampire, wrapped around her, poised to climb her like a tree if only she had the courage and lack of… Oh no. She absolutely had the lack of propriety down.  Drunken misbehaviour.  The brattiness, in public, complete with the clinging.  The wicked gleam in Cecelia’s eye as she led Roslyn to the makeshift dancefloor… The Witch’s cheeks flushed, leading her to curse her complexion.  There was no way anybody was going to miss her blushing, nor her previous antics. Hells, she was never going to live this down, not if the smirk upon Cecelia’s face was any indication.

“I won’t dance if it proves a danger to you.” The warning was given light heartedly, a soft, intimate whisper as Cecelia drew Roslyn in close.  Already, it was apparent the Witch barely had her feet, yet as always Cecelia was there to ground her.  To be the very ground she stood upon.  Without a blink, Cecelia had Roslyn standing on her feet, had her held impossibly close.

“How else are we meant to celebrate the date you were born?”

The innocent question punched the air from Cecelia’s immortal lungs.  Mother night, it tore her back hundreds of years.  Back to when the day held meaning.  To memories of a time before Kellan.  Before the Ward. Where the ballrooms were alive, where she… The answer was so close, yet so far.  So very, very far from Cecelia’s grasp.   All she could do was sigh, was close her eyes and lean her cool forehead to Roslyn’s clammy one with a solitary observation.

“You know.”

“Of course I know. It’s important to know that about your family!” Roslyn’s earnest statement lured Cecelia’s eyes open, the impact of the unspoken acknowledgement a gift unlike any she’d received in her long life.   She smiled, not one of her above mortality, tragic smiles, but a true smile, complete with a glimmer of fang. It was a smile which shook Roslyn to the core.  Upon Cecelia’s feet, Roslyn finally stood at even height, their faces aligned.  It was effortless, to lose herself in the beauty of Cecelia’s face so close to her own.  To feel how their breath mingled in the tiniest of spaces between their lips.  With a flush unattributed to alcohol, the Witch babbled on.

“It took a lot of magic though. And Kellan.” The conclusion of Roslyn’s explanation only proved her dedication.  For Roslyn to willingly have sought out Kellan, to have chosen to confide in him, even for Cecelia… It went beyond Roslyn’s appreciation for him as someone in Cecelia’s life, or as her boss.

“It is alarming is that you, of all of us, got him to the table.” She noted.  An absolutely monumental understatement.  Their conflict went beyond Kellan’s hazing a tenderfoot approach to Roslyn as a member of the team. Truth be told, Cecelia had half expected Roslyn to give Kellan a bad plum in leu of an apple when Kellan declared the trials.   Their tensions even went further than Roslyn thinking Kellan a ten-cent man, and he finding the Witch to be a bag of nails.  It was her.  Roslyn’s issues had only grown worse once she knew precisely what Kellan’s role had been in Cecelia’s upbringing.

Just as his hostility towards Roslyn had only increased once he recognised her connection to Cecelia. The temptation she could become, had become.  What she was only proved to be the icing on one very hostile cake.  The fact that they were beginning to bury the hatchet, instead of simply co-exist was just another priceless gift.

“I wanted you to have fun, and instead lost myself in my cup trying to flavour my blood before you even arrived. I was going to let you bite me so we could watch the sunrise. Sascha suggested some different drinks… I ruined your surprise! I’m going to be grouchier than a bear with a sore head come morning.” Roslyn deflated, squeezing her hand just that little tighter on Cecelia’s bicep.

“Then it seems we will both be hiding from the sun.” Cecelia sighed, unable to conceal her smile as she leaned back.  The tickle of Roslyn’s hair against her nose was the smallest of prices to pay to deliver the gentlest kiss to the Witch’s forehead.  A gesture which had Roslyn smiling too, creeping from the melancholy that had been nipping at her heels.

“You’ll be a…” Cecelia trailed off, mischief brewing in her stormy eyes. As she continued in a sing song voice.

“What is it you called me?  An adorable, grumpy little muffin?”

“You were all pouty! an’ to think, here I was tryin’ ta be nice to ya.” The Witch laughed, shaking her head a little at the gall Cecelia had to throw her own words back at her. That was a low blow.  Totally uncalled for… adorable too.  A little kitten mewling.

“I sincerely appreciate the sentiment, little delinquent.“ Cecelia crooned in return.  Roslyn shrugged, unable to focus on anything but the gentle curve of Cecelia’s lips.  The hint of fangs behind the midnight red curtain.  Mindlessly, Roslyn tipped her head forwards, playfully nuzzling the Vampire’s jaw before her ear once more settled over Cecelia’s shoulder, forehead nestled into the safety of Cecelia’s neck.  There, tucked away in the scoop of Cecelia’s body, swaying in slow circles to the sweetest notes of a steady piano, Roslyn yawned, her smile shifted into contentment. Cecelia sighed too, tilting her head so that she could rest her cheek to Roslyn’s temple.  Together, they swayed, enraptured by one another, lost on the tide of the piano’s melody.  Cecelia, drowning in the orchestra of Roslyn’s heartbeat.  Of her soul.  All of which fell secondary to the sweetest whisper, like the touch of wind across the desert on a still night.

"Happy Birthday, Lady Cecelia Visconti.”

“Thank you.”

Cecelia’s response was honest.  Sincere.  Spoken from the heart.  Even drunk, Roslyn could see it in her eyes.  How gentle they were, soft, with a droopiness to them.  For once, it was not Cecelia trying to appear harsher, nor watching for danger.  There it was. The chasm in the veneer Roslyn had so desperately desired, mere millimetres from her face.  Overwhelming, like how the Sun’s light drowned the moon out every day, but still the moon shone, as did every star. Only, they were within Cecelia’s eyes.  Mother Night, they were in Cecelia’s eyes.  Roslyn could only smile, even with her cheek rested to Cecelia’s lace covered shoulder, giggling at the tickle of Cecelia’s hair in conflict with the scratchiness of the lace.

“So,” Roslyn begun, her smile only growing as she saw Cecelia tilt her chin that little bit closer, as if trying to connect their gazes once more.

“are you ready to tell me how old you really are?”

Cecelia cracked.  Her warm, rich laughter vibrated in her chest, disrupting Roslyn’s resting place.  When faced with such a thing, what else could be done but to giggle along, to bathe in a moment where the weight of the world was not upon their shoulders?  Where they could be young, drunk and ditzy without it leading to the cost of lives.  Where the Ward had no power to punish Cecelia, or leverage her life against Kellan.  Where, they could just be.  Roslyn laughed too, turning her head so that she could playfully try to sneak a kiss through the lace over Cecelia’s collar.  Whether it was the pressure, the heat of her mouth or the wet of her kiss, Cecelia seemed to feel something.  Her chest swelled, and for one glistening moment, they were completely still.  A snapshot in time.

“Oh my darling Witch, you still have not learned it is rude to query a woman’s age.”

[takaraphoenix]

Buffy Season 8: Review

It’s bad. It’s just... really... bad. That’s the TL;DR of this review. There was one (1) good thing about this season and that was the return of Oz. So if you’re looking for something that hypes season 8? This is not it. If you are confused, angry or salty about season 8? Hi, yes, me too.

Starting at the beginning. At first, I was really happy that they introduced more characters of color, with Renee and Satsu. And when Renee was then even “promoted” to Xander’s love interest? Nice. The two were even cute.

But no. That was all just the set-up to fridge her. Which, I am so very tired of that trope. And that is what that was. That wasn’t just a slayer dying during a fight. The entire issue of her death focused on her and Xander, building up to their relationship, setting them up for their first date, having her be prominently featured, just to then kill her off and have Xander avenge her.

What made it feel even worse - worse than just the fridging - was that they really had to fridge one of their very few women of color. And, to top it off, spend the entire issue in which she dies having her subjected to racism. Just great. Really, you managed to make an already shitty trope even worse. That’s impressive.

The racism itself too. Dracula. They just decided to make Dracula totally racist now, huh? and it doesn’t get a pass just because Xander points out in the comic that he doesn’t remember Dracula being this racist. Because he wasn’t. This Dracula just throws around slurs left and right in a way that feels more like the writers just really wanted to use slurs. Because the character? He was suave, charming, heck he charmed the straight men and the lesbians too when he was on the show. He was a smooth talker. This Dracula? He just... He was just racist and rude in general. Why.

Moving on from the racism to the next failure in rep. The gays. At this point in time I am simply convinced that Joss Whedon is entirely unfamiliar with the concept of bisexuality.

I know I’ve already made a separate post complaining about this, but it needs mentioning in the review of the season too. Having Buffy hook up with a lesbian twice, but #NoHomo, just a straight girl in her “experimental phase”. That’s just cringey and also offensive. Just... make her... come out as a bisexual? It’s not like the writing in the show hadn’t already set her up with quite the bi vibes.

Instead, the narrative made it sound like the only options would be to be straight or to now suddenly turn “into” a lesbian. Which is also offensive on itself, because - as this very show had proven on screen - lesbians can come out later in life and genuinely, I adore Willow’s arc. For her narrative, it fit to have her come out as a lesbian, the circumstances and her life fit for that. I absolutely agree that it would have been weird for Buffy to have a sudden coming out as a lesbian at that point in her life and after everything, but referring to it as turning into a dyke was just not great.

And lesbian wasn’t the only option. Though, I’m unsure Whedon knows that, considering that 6/6 canon queer characters are homosexual and 4/4 wlw are lesbians. They just keep introducing more lesbians - which, as a lesbian I am always in favor of more lesbians. However, when you have a very small number (2) of queer characters, it figures you can not cover all the sexualities and it’s even fair that even with two, you still choose to have them both be the same sexuality. But... the more you add? The more questionable it becomes that you limit it to one sexuality only.

This arc would have so beautifully set up for Buffy to come out as bi. But no.

And while we’re on the wlw; one of the things I always loved about Buffy was that the lesbians weren’t just there for the male gaze, they weren’t oversexualized. They desired each other, they even had sex. But... in a normal frame work, to a normal amount, meaning equal to how the straights were handled. I always liked that, because especially in early days, lesbians were usually just there to look really hot and have hot sex that straight men could get off to. Well, consider me very unimpressed with the comics, because... man are lesbians sexualized now. Willow gets a hot constantly naked snake goddess girlfriend whom she can only contact by - and I am not making this up - having an orgasm. So we prelude the trip by her having sex with Kennedy, before waking up all nude in snake goddess’ realm and usually having am makeout session or sex with her too while doing whatever business she has with her. So much nakedness, so much oversexualization. Really... disappointing.

Staying on the romance but turning to the other Summers sister, I truly can’t believe they made Xander/Dawn canon. Like, I can not comprehend they decided to make that a canon ship.

Sure, Dawnie’s had a crush on Xander since the literal beginning of Dawn. And that was... cute, honestly. Fifteen year old girls have crushes on cute older guys who are nice to them. Figures. Adorable. But she kind of... grew out of that over the course of the show? Or so it seemed...

And Xander. One of the things I loved about Xander was that Dawn was always a total no go. She was Buffy’s sister, heck, she was kind of every Scoobie’s little sister. He had always had brotherly advise for her. Heck, in this comic he points out that it’s weird since he’s known her since she was little - and yeah it is. It’s not weird when two people were both little together, but when one was sixteen when the other was eleven and one has babysat the other? That’s weird.

Getting infinitely more disturbing by the fact that she... literally... just turned eighteen. If they had put this into a rather later season, or a bigger time skip, had Dawn been A WomanTM for a few years now and Xander had gotten around to separating the idea of kiddo!Dawnie from the woman she has become, but Dawn is only eighteen, she hasn’t become a woman yet. She just turned legal to bang and thus, a switch was flipped in Xander’s mind, putting her on his radar. And just... no. Why.

And even beyond this decision; Dawn spends the first third of this season being slut-shamed in ridiculous ways. Which is also tiresome. I am the last person to defend cheaters, but there’s a difference between “You cheated and are being held accountable for it” and “You cheated so now you are cursed to be a giant, a centaur and then a porcellain doll for weeks at a time, being publicly humiliated and having control over your body taken away from you”. That was... sure a choice.

Moving on to the actual main problem of this season. The plot.

Starting with the incomprehensibly dumb idea of “hey let’s retreat to Tibet, put a huge target on Oz’s new home and get rid of all of our magic. surely that will not come to bite us in the arse when the bad guys find us”. Naturally, it came back to bite them in their collective asses. This was just... No one objected or pointed out how dumb that plan was? Really? No one? Really?

Anyway, let’s talk villains. And work our way up there. The return of Amy and Warren. Once again, I ask why. I’m still salty about the 180° Amy did from sweet Wiccan to wicked bitch after her stint as a rat, but having her now... hook up with Warren, the second biggest misogynist on this show, who is also skinless. She used a spell to keep him alive but she couldn’t... give the spell a color? Anything? Anything to not make him look flayed? Because this was just unnecessarily gross body-horror.

Not to mention the... lack of reaction? Sure, some spoke grumpily against working with Warren. But... this is Warren. The guy who killed Tara when he was trying to kill Buffy. There really should have been more breather-scenes of the Scoobies talking about this, digesting the fact that the guy was still alive and more so when they worked with him.

But nevermind them, because they’re working for Angel. Because Angel’s the villain behind this season. I mean, he was manipulated into that by Twilight, but manipulated means he still chose to do it.

Now let me preface that I might not ship Angel/Buffy, but that really only factors marginally in here, because this plot would be bullshit even if it were my OTP.

We now retcon the creation of the Slayers as not just being something dirty old men did in a cave, it was now all the greater plan of the universe. Which. Might have worked had Slayers been... naturally occuring. And not created by men, forcing this upon a young woman. Sure, what people do can be seen as the greater plan of the universe too if you will, but that seems like a cop-out that absolves bad people of their bad choices and deeds.

Anyway. The universe created Slayers and vampires and the ““balance”“ between them (which is bullshit anyway because 1 Slayer vs thousands of vampires... not balanced at all), including the now supposedly destined romance between Angel and Buffy.

Both get rewarded with super-powers now so they can super-fuck and thus give birth to a new universe. That universe is called Twilight and manifests as a burning, winged, green lion who can talk (because that sure is how I always headcanoned Angel/Buffy’s children to look like /s) and who, through time-travel shenannigans, has been manipulating Angel into his own creation.

The magic pull between them is so strong that it overrides the “Angel just caused the death of over two-hundred Slayers” so Buffy fucks him.

At which point I just... this season was flat-out character assassination of Angel? He was manipulated by the bad guy. Not controlled, manipulated. He caused the death of hundreds. He threw everything he stood for and believed in out the window for the promise of a paradise where he could be with Buffy, when the real Angel has chosen other things, higher goals, over being with Buffy over and over again, because that’s what they do. That is their whole thing, they choose the good of the world over being together. They have always been a “will they/won’t they?” where the answer is they won’t, because they know they are needed elsewhere, by others. But now Angel just... doesn’t care about all that anymore, or heck about his own son and his friends, ready to abandon everything for this.

And then when Twilight is born and consequently abandoned by Buffy, who still prioritizes her friends, family and the world over being with Angel, Angel actually... needs convincing in the abandoning? Because, again, character assassination. Ultimately, Angel gets controlled by Twilight and used to kill Giles and try to kill Buffy.

But thanks to the Deus Ex Machina of Spike dropping in in the final arc, they know how to stop this. He hasn’t been in this season so far, because - truly in line with this season - he was off being the king of a race of alien bugs, traveling in their space-ship.

To stop this all, they go back to Sunnydale, where of course the “heart of the Earth” is located, the seed that contains all magic, and destroy it, and with it all magic. Also, the Master was apparently always just there to guard that seed. He is now back from the dead!

Let me summarize that once more, just for emphasis: The universe wanted Buffy and Angel to fuck so they can give birth to a new universe that personifies as a green, winged, burning lion but before it can destroy our universe, Spike, now king of an alien bug race, delivers the solution to go back to Sunnydale and destroy the seed of all magic that is being guarded by a resurrected Master.

How do you read that with a straight face? How do you pitch that? This is just so incomprehensibly stupid.

We end the comic with Buffy as a waitress, hated by many, Xander and Dawn now have an apartment and are playing house, Willow broke up with Kennedy because she realized she is in love with the snake goddess she will now never get to see again, Giles is dead, Faith somehow inherited everything from Giles and she is also the designated Angel-sitter now.

[dbnightingale24]

Last Chance At Redemption

Chapter 13

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THE ELECTION IS FINALLY OVER!!! Which means I can finally get my brain to focus on writing again :). So, this chapter is filled with even more drama and angst than the last one (cause I live for that shit), but do not worry. The chapter I’m uploading next (literally right after I post this) is filled with fluff and love. All the good things. So, sit back, relax, and be glad Abigail’s family isn’t yours.

Warnings: DRAMA, angst, drinking, swearing, talks of cheating, mentions of death/suicide, shitty writing...I think that’s it?

Word Count: 3091 (sorry about that)

Songs That Inspired This Chapter: 

Go To Hell For Heaven’s Sake - Bring Me The Horizon

Simmer - Hayley Williams

I do not consent to have my stories/works posted anywhere else.

~~

The days leading up to Thanksgiving were stressful to say the least. Abigail hadn’t bothered to talk to anyone except Taylor for the remainder of the week. Lisa had tried calling and texting her multiple times, but Abigail just ignored it. The one time she bothered to respond to a text, she told her to fuck off and go to hell. Ransom had been trying to talk to her but she didn’t have the energy.

 Both he and Taylor had explained that the only reason he hadn’t told her sooner, was because he wanted to make sure she’d believe him. He knew that if she didn’t see it in real time, she find a reason to not believe him, which is why he always posted it in stories. The only reason he let Taylor send it was because he knew Abigail would always believe her. As irritated as Abigail wanted to be, she knew he had a valid point.

 Todd, in a desperate attempt to get Abigail to talk to him, came clean about everything with Lisa. Finding out that they had hooked up on the anniversary of her father’s death put the final nail in the coffin. As far as Abigail was concerned, Lisa and Todd could have each other, because she was done with the both of them.

 “I don’t understand why that little bitch is still invited to Thanksgiving dinner,” Taylor mumbled, stirring the pasta sauce “she should be banned from everything for life.”

“Because Willow and my mother. Willow didn’t sleep with my boyfriend, Lisa did. I’m also in no mood to hear my mother bitch about her not being here.”

“Are you gonna tell her?”

“Not if I can help it” Abigail mumbled, draining the pasta.

 Both Taylor and Abigail had woken up early to decorate the house and prepare the food. Taylor did her best to keep Abigail calm but nothing seemed to help much. Abigail couldn’t remember the last good Thanksgiving she had and she just wanted to get it over with. She wanted everything to just be over and done with.

 “So…I’m gonna tell you something and you’re gonna be mad at me, but it’s for the best” Taylor all but mumbled while picking at her fingers.

“Oh God, who did you punch?”

“You’re probably gonna wish I had punched someone.”

“Fuck…well, spit it out.”

“So….I kinda…this is a GOOD thing.”

“Just tell me already!”

“I invited Ransom to Thanksgiving dinner.”

“You did what?!” Abigail yelled, almost dropping a bowl of salad.

“I told you you’d be angry, but it really is a good thing. This will be his test.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?!”

“You and I both know today is gonna be a shit show. Your mom and Lisa in the same place. Heidi and your mom in the same place; things are bound to get out of control. If he can’t handle it, he can’t handle you and you need to move on.”

“That’s not necessarily fair. My family is a lot-”

“Stop it. So is his, but you’re still in love with him. We all come with baggage and we all need help dealing with shit. If he can’t handle you when shit is crazy, then he doesn’t deserve you at your best” Taylor stated simply.

Though it was a fucked up plan, it was a good plan. “You should’ve told me before you did it.”

“So you could try to talk me out of it? Nope” Taylor smirked, as the doorbell rang. “You ready?”

“Nope. Let’s get this over with” Abigail sighed, wiping her hands off on her apron and heading towards the front door. Que Sera Sera

 **

 “When do I get to meet the boyfriend?” Abigail’s mom asked, taking a seat at the kitchen isle.

“I told you over the phone that we broke up” Abigail mumbled, whipping mashed potatoes.

 Thanksgiving festivities had been in full swing for a few hours and Abigail was ready for it all to be over. Everyone was at her house except for Ransom and while part of her felt relieved, she would have been lying if she said she didn’t miss him.

 “What happened with you and your sister? You haven’t said a word to her and you’re clearly okay with letting her stay with that little tart-”

“Watch it,” Abigail snapped, putting the pot of mashed potatoes down “I told you, if you can’t play nice you can go home.”

“Yeah, I remember the rules” she scoffed, before taking a sip of her scotch. “Anyway, what happened there?”

“Without going into detail, she can go fuck herself.”

“It can’t be that bad, you two always get over whatever issue you’re having.”

“Nope, this time she’s crossed the line and I’m fucking done. If it has nothing to do with Willow, I don’t give a damn” Abigail muttered, aggressively cutting up lettuce.

“She’s your sister, Abby.”

“Someone should bother to tell her that.”

“I raised you-”

“Don’t okay? Just don’t. You always make excuses for her and shitty behavior and that’s why she’s so fucked up now. Actions have consequences and it’s time she fucking realized that.”

 Abigail took a large sip of her wine and checked the time to see that it was almost 4. She sighed in resignation, accepting that Ransom probably wasn’t coming, but perked up when she heard the doorbell. She did her best to hide her excitement from her mother, who was already looking at her suspiciously, as she made her way to the front door.

 She smiled as she opened the door. Ransom stood there with a bottle of wine in hand, shifting his weight from foot to foot. She couldn’t help but giggle at how nervous he was, but her happiness soon disappeared when she saw who was standing behind him.

 “What the fuck are you doing here?!” she hissed at Todd, standing aside for Ransom to come inside. However, she knew he could tell it was better to stay where he was.

“You invited Ransom?”

“I invited Ransom,” Taylor spat, coming up behind Abigail “you aren’t welcome here and you need to leave.”

“I’ll deal with you later and I will find out where that video came from.”

“How the fuck are you mad at her right now?! What right…ugh, you need to go-”

“Who is it?” Abigail’s mother asked, standing in the kitchen doorway.

“Jesus Christ,” Abigail mumbled “no one of any importance-”

“Ah, the ex-boyfriend. Well, he was stupid enough to show up, let him in” she stated simply.

“I really don’t think that would be best.”

“It’ll be fine, don’t worry about it” her mother responded coolly.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.”

 Abigail stepped aside, letting both guys inside, before closing the door and locking it. She turned to see Lisa standing there, eyes wide and mouth slightly opened, before making eye contact with Abigail. In response, Abigail just scoffed and shook her head before going back into the kitchen. Happy Thanksgiving indeed.

 **

 With a newly added distraction of Todd and her mother having a million questions, it took Abigail longer than she wanted to finish dinner. It also didn’t help that she had gone through an entire bottle of wine by herself, but it was either that or her snapping at everyone. When she finally finished dinner, Lisa offered to help, which only resulted in Abigail barking at her to stay out of the way.

 When everyone was finally situated at the table, it was painfully quiet, with the exception of the Disney movie the girls were watching playing in the background. Ransom mainly kept his eyes on his plate but glanced at Abigail ever so often, Abigail kept her eyes on the clock, Taylor glared at Todd, Todd kept his eyes on Abigail, Lisa kept her eyes on Todd, Abigail’s mother kept shifting her eyes back and forth between Abigail and Lisa, Heidi was trying to sneak a view of the movie the girls were watching, and Jeff (Taylor’s husband) was happily oblivious as he kept eating.

 “Everything came out amazing, as usual. I missed your cooking” Jeff praised, mouth full of food.

“What does that mean?” Taylor smirked, nudging him playfully.

“It means she’s a better cook than you and you know I’m right” he grinned.

“Thanks bud, it’s nice to know I’m still good for something” Abigail chuckled, turning her gaze on him.

“So Todd,” her mother finally spoke “you’re an attorney, right?”

“Yeah, I work for-”

“I didn’t ask that, I only asked your job. How long have you been one?”

“Please stop,” Abigail groaned, taking a sip of wine “the less he speaks the better.”

“Abigail I-”

“I literally just said the less you talk, the better” she snapped at him, cutting him a cold glare.

“I’m gonna take this as my cue to take the girls outside to play” Jeff all but whispered before getting up, and telling the girls to put on their jackets so they could go outside and play for a game of tag.

“Abigail-”

“Mother. Do not. Drop it” she warned, pouring herself another glass.

“Maybe you’ve had enough to drink” Lisa chimed in.

“Maybe you should shut the fuck up,” Abigail snapped back “why are you even here?! I’ve made it perfectly clear that I want nothing to do with you” she shot at Todd.

“I am so so sorry. If you would just hear me out-”

“There’s literally nothing you can say to justify what you did. This day is hard enough as is, and now you’re here? Pretending that we broke up over something as small as you forgetting my birthday? You’ve gotta be shitting me.”

“We’re both at fault for what happened!”

“I’m sorry, how is it my fault that you were having an affair with my sister?” Abigail questioned, as Heidi choked on her own glass of wine and her mother dropped her fork. “Fuck.”

“You did what!? Lisa, after everything your father did with that-”

“Do not” Abigail warned again.

“How am I in the wrong?! You’re the one who invited the home wrecker. Letting your sister stay with her, no wonder she’s sleeping with your boyfriend!”

“I am sitting right here” Heidi muttered, taking a sip of her wine.

“Me?! She’s your fucking daughter! Maybe if you had spent more time parenting and less time working, she wouldn’t be such a fucking shit show! You can hate me all you want for trying to mend the fucking holes in this family, but at the end of the day, this fucked up family is your fault! This” Abigail motioned to the dinner table “is not my fucking job and I am so sick and tired of cleaning up everyone’s shit and getting hell for it!

Yes, I did invite Heidi! You wanna know why? Besides the fact she has been housing your daughter and is raising my half sister, she was a fucking kid! Dad was the adult in the situation and he should’ve done better! It is so fucking exhausting to hold onto your hate for people! Dad wanted-”

“You always took your father’s side!”

“What fucking drugs are you on?! I took your side! I didn’t talk to dad for years!” Abigail yelled, slamming her hands down on the table.

“I am not drunk enough for this” Taylor mumbled, before standing up and getting more wine from the kitchen.

“I don’t have to take this-”

“Of course, why on earth would you ever wanna be held accountable for being a shitty parent?” Abigail mumbled, taking another sip of her wine.

“Abs, mom did her-”

“I don’t need need any help from you, you little slut!”

“Oh my God, enough!” Heidi yelled, cause everyone to jump and look at her. “You’re so pissed at Abigail for inviting me and taking it out on Lisa like you have some fucking leg to stand on. Meanwhile, you were fucking Dan for the last two years of his life!”

Now it was Abigail’s turn to choke on her wine, while Taylor came running back in with two new bottles of wine. “I’m sorry,” she panted, taking a seat and pouring herself a new glass “come again?”

“I’m not fucking stupid. I knew that the “business” he had in Jersey was you, but I didn’t fucking say anything because I had no fucking right. He was yours first. But you knew. You knew you were taking him away from his daughter, you knew I was fighting to make that marriage work because I had no one, and you knew how bad things were getting with him. You think I didn’t hear the phone calls with him crying and begging you to take him back? Begging you to get Lisa to talk to him? You knew where he was at mentally and you didn’t do shit to help him. I busted my ass trying to get him to appreciate what he had and you used him to get what you want and to hurt me. Now, you wanna sit here and hate everyone like you’re so fucking innocent and I am tired of it!

 I have a daughter who cries for her father every other fucking day, who was getting bullied s bad at school that I had to pull her out, I’m taking care of your train wreck of a daughter and her child, and my family still isn’t speaking to me. You don’t get to sit at this table and bash anyone at this table, you fucking devil!” Heidi spat, tears streaming down her face.

 “So…you knew and you did nothing?” Abigail after a beat.

“I didn’t think he’d-”

“You knew and you did nothing?!” she yelled, slamming her glass down so hard on the table that it broke.

“Abby-”

“Do not call, do not text, do not visit, and do not ask about me. From this point on, you are dead to me. If it has nothing to do with Nanna or Poppa, I don’t care to hear about it.”

“Abigail please-”

“Get out of my house. I don’t care what you do or where you go, just get the hell away from me.”

“Please just let me-”

‘GET OUT!” Abigail shouted, glaring daggers at her mother.

 Her mother slowly and quietly got her things together before making her way out. The silence in the wake of her leaving was deafening. Taylor opened her mouth multiple times to speak, but she couldn’t find the words.

 “Dinner is over. You all do whatever you want.” Abigail stated, pushing her char out and getting up.

“Abigail I-”

“Except you. You get the fuck out. Willow can stay and hang out if she wants, but I want you and Todd out of my house, now.”

“Please just-”

“Make me repeat myself and you will regret it.” Abigail warned, hands already balled into a fist.

 Lisa hung her head in defeat as she got up and started to get herself together. Todd looked as if she was going to say something, but thought better of it and followed Lisa’s lead. Abigail could feel Ransom’s gaze on her, but wouldn’t dare look. She didn’t want to see what the gaze held. She knew as soon as Taylor told her he was coming, it was going to be a disaster of a Thanksgiving. However, she had nothing like what had happened in mind. She was amazed he had stayed for the whole thing, even more amazed that he didn’t leave as soon as she said dinner was over.

 She made her way up the steps to her room, closing the door behind her. She didn’t even bother to turn on the light, she just got under her covers, wrapped them around her tight, and slowly made her way to dream. There were no tears because she was tired of crying and there was no drinking because she already felt numb. No, she just let darkness of her room, mind, and soul consume her until she succumbed to the darkness of sleep.

**

taglist: @jennmurawski13 @goldenfightergir @princess-evans-addict @jeremyrennermakesmesmile

[3laxx]

Bring It Home - Chapter 7

Kissing someone was not something she had been looking forward to after Luz had died. Just because she was kind of, sort of over her feelings for the human didn’t mean she was ready for any sort of relationship after the trauma that Luz’s death had caused her.

WHat?? More chapters??! It's getting ridiculous what the hell, especially because this one just barely ends before 3k words. WHat the helllllll Anyway have fun with the kissy-kissy chapter!

(Keep in mind these are all not proof read)

Ao3 / FF.net

---

Sauntering up and down in her room, Amity didn’t know how to calm her heart.

Shortly after graduation, she had moved into a house together with Willow and Gus. It wasn’t much, just a small cottage in the outskirts of Bonesborough that her parents happened not to use.

She had repaired the little house together with her friends a lot and they had decided to become housemates as soon as her parents had given them the permission to move in.

The witch, now twenty years of age, had managed to get into the Abominations Coven and was content to work for them besides her other small job, some mercenary work that kept the bills paid and earn her a small income.

But she had recently rediscovered the bucket list that had gotten lost to her during the past few years and found why she had originally kind of brushed it under the rug.

Kissing someone was not something she had been looking forward to after Luz had died. Just because she was kind of, sort of over her feelings for the human didn’t mean she was ready for any sort of relationship after the trauma that Luz’s death had caused her.

Sighing, she fisted her hands into her hair that she was now allowing to grow out. Her brown roots dominated her head once again and only the tips had stayed faintly green. Rubbing over her face, Amity stopped pacing and came to a stop in front of her desk, grumbling when she stared at the piece of paper, the writing on it still glaring at her mockingly.

She wanted to do all these things, and she had never truly forgotten about it, but because she wanted to do all these things in order, she had kind of put the bucket list away for a more convenient time. Groaning, she sat down on the desk and stared at the paper.

Upon finding it, she had added a few more small checks to the filled-out space next to skiing, because her friends and she had actually started enjoying their little getaways to the knee by now and did it regularly, as well as another one behind the Azura book, but the task about kissing someone glared back up to her with a mocking emptiness.

Embarrassedly, she had also discovered that that meant she hadn’t ever kissed someone in all her twenty years.

Well, but she had vowed to do the bucket list her old friend and she had come up with. She owed Luz that much. She had to do it, of course, she had to. Sighing and breathing through, she lowered her hands to the desk and stared at the writing.

Who even could she kiss?

For a fraction of a second, her mind jumped to Boscha, but she quickly shook her head. Boscha was not a good idea and they weren’t that close. Willow or Gus?

It’d be super embarrassing to kiss either of them if she was being honest. While she didn’t see them in the same light as her idiot siblings that she loved very much, she still didn’t romantically see them either.

Someone else?

Grumbling, Amity realized that she didn’t have anyone else. Sure, she still had some contact with her old crew, Skara, Amelia, and Cat, but they were all not close enough for her to knock on their door someday and ask for a kiss.

And she sure as Titan’s asshole wouldn’t ever kiss her siblings or Eda. Sticking out her tongue, she shook her head again, then she sighed and rubbed over her face once more.

She didn’t have anyone she was interested in, anyway. She hadn’t found anyone attractive to her. Ever since Luz, she hadn’t even thought about any romantic involvement. She hadn’t even considered it, not even when her sister and Viney had eloped for fun, only to marry for real some weeks later. Or when Edric had announced that he was in a relationship with an old classmate of his.

Or when Willow had a girlfriend for a short time.

She hadn’t ever thought about it. She didn’t have any interest in that.

All she had wanted, her first and her last crush until now, had been Luz. She hadn’t even known she was supposed to search for other options when Luz had died, because in her mind back then, there had been no room for romantic involvement.

Sighing, Amity leaned back in her chair and shook her head.

How was she supposed to fulfill that task if she didn’t want a relationship?

She hadn’t realized for how long she had already been sitting there when suddenly, she heard a knock on her door and looked up to see Willow entering upon her call.

“Hey Amity, we were thinking of ordering in. Do you want anythi-… Oh.”, her friend immediately recognized the little sheet of paper on her desk and she supposed, if her expression was anything to go by, Willow had already figured out what she was gnawing on.

“Yeah, I know… Uhm, I’ll be downstairs in a minute.”, Amity tried brushing it off, but her friend already came over and rested a hand on her shoulder, leaning down to brush over the worn and used paper, almost falling apart from the years of carrying it around religiously. She smiled when her fingertips brushed over all the checks behind skiing.

“… You thinking about her again?”, she softly asked and Amity nodded, leaning her head against the hand Willow kept on her shoulder.

“Yeah… There are so many things she should’ve done, still.”, Amity mumbled and Willow chuckled, tapping on the last task.

“… That idiot.”, she remembered their friend fondly and Amity snorted, nodding.

“Yeah, that idiot.”

Furrowing her eyebrows, Willow finally turned towards her and leaned against the desk to face her friend.

“Are you still doing these in order?”, she asked, casting a side glance to the bucket list. Amity groaned, nodding. Talking about it wasn’t embarrassing to her, especially not in front of Willow.

“Yeah, but I don’t know who to kiss. Curse my dumb fourteen-year-old brain.”, she chuckled, remembering the reason why she had said that to Luz. Of course, she had wanted to kiss her knuckle-headed human and had hoped she would get the message. As far as she knew, Luz had gotten where Amity had wanted to go but hadn’t wanted to promise her something she couldn’t keep her word on. A small pang of pain went through her heart when she once again imagined Luz lying under the stars, staring up there and talking to her while the blood slowly seeped from her body.

“You don’t have anyone you wanna be with right now?”, Willow asked with a testing gaze and Amity shook her head, rubbing her face.

“After Luz died, I didn’t really feel the need to fall in love again. Or, rather, I just didn’t.”, she truthfully answered and Willow chuckled.

“Hey, you wanna kiss me?”, she suddenly asked and Amity’s eyes shot up at that, while her eyebrows furrowed.

“… What?”

“You heard me.”, Willow shrugged and Amity just gave her a quizzical look, slowly shaking her head.

“I don’t wanna kiss you. I’m not interested in you, romantically.”, she truthfully answered and Willow chuckled, pretending an arrow hit her in her chest.

“Ouch! Why must you hurt me so!”, she laughed and Amity loosened up a little before joining her laughter.

“You’re a goof, Willow. But seriously, I love you as a friend but I wouldn’t want more.”, she finally readjusted herself on her chair, shaking her head, “Please take this seriously?”

Much to her surprise, her friend stopped laughing and she looked up again.

“I’m taking this seriously, Amity. You can kiss me, I won’t mind.”

Rolling her eyes, she looked away from the witch who was leaning on her desk, putting her head in her hands.

“I mean it, Willow, I have no idea who to kiss.”

There was silence for a second before a calloused yet incredibly soft hand pried hers from her face and nudged her to look up, meeting Willow’s earnest face.

“Why does a kiss have to imply romantic interest? Who cares who you kiss? I don’t, and honestly, I’d rather you kissed me than, I don’t know, Gus or Boscha. I don’t want a relationship from you either, so you can trust me not to read anything into a kiss and make you feel uncomfortable.”

Amity pondered over that while she stared at Willow.

Technically, she was right. The bucket list said to kiss someone, not to make a whole relationship out of it. And honestly, Amity would like to kiss someone at least once. Even better if it was someone who she could trust not to read anything into it and make her regret doing it.

Humming, she squeezed Willow’s hand, before nodding.

“Let me think on that offer, okay? For now, let’s order something, I’m actually starving.”, she smiled at her childhood friend, who pulled her to her feet with unsurprising ease – Amity had once tried to join in on Willow’s workout routine and had badly failed – before sighing in relief.

“Good, Gus is probably already in a bad mood.”

It didn’t take long for them to decide where to order their food and prepare for dinner until it arrived. Gus told them about his day at work, the Illusion Coven where he was rising fast, and Willow and Amity teased him a little while eating before they settled for one round of videogames. After that, Amity retreated to her bathroom and brushed her teeth, but Willow’s offer hadn’t really left her mind. Still considering, she spat out the toothpaste, before washing out her mouth and looking at herself in the mirror.

Was she really going to do this?

Wasn’t that cheating of sorts?

Well, Willow and she were both single and friends and Willow was right, a kiss between friends was just as okay. Not every kiss had to result in a relationship.

Furrowing her eyebrows, she breathed through, then she washed her face and changed into her pajamas before exiting the bathroom and knocking on Willow’s door. When she got called in, the familiar slightly humid air enveloped her in what felt like a hug while she entered Willow’s plant-filled room.

There were pots of plants everywhere.

Humming, she rounded the small vertical garden and saw her friend sitting on her desk, just working on her report for the Plants Coven before she looked up.

“Hey Amity, what’s up?”

Rubbing her arm and holding onto her pajama shirt, she breathed through. The air in the room had always soothed and calmed her, maybe due to the humidity, or because of some odors from the plants that had that effect.

“I thought about your offer and, uh, I’d like to try it out?”, she mumbled and Willow shortly furrowed her eyebrows, before nodding in understanding.

“Oh, yeah, sure!”, she got up and sat down on the edge of her bed, patting the space next to her, “Come here, we can do this nice and easy.”

Amity followed her friend and sat down with her. She felt comfortable enough around Willow not to feel awkward or out of place, after all, she spent a lot of time in this room just talking to the other witch or tending to her plants when she was out, so this wasn’t a problem for her. The problem was starting this, somehow.

“I-I just brushed my teeth, too!”, Amity tried to reassure Willow, who laughed.

“If it makes you feel better, I did, too.”, she noticed her fidgeting, so the plant witch placed a hand on hers and caught her gaze, “You don’t have to at all, Amity. It was just a suggestion and this kiss doesn’t mean anything, neither to you or me, okay?”

She nodded slowly, but couldn’t stop the memories of Luz from flashing in her mind. Willow seemed to pick up on her difficulty to relax, so she picked something off her nightstand and snuck it between Amity’s fingers. When she looked down, it was the Grom picture they had taken, Willow’s copy of it.

Luz grinned up to her and she immediately felt at ease, smiling.

“Th-Thanks, Willow…”, she mumbled, before looking back up to her friend who was looking at her with concern.

“Hey, we really don’t have to. But maybe, that’ll finally allow you to move on with the bucket list?”, she suggested and Amity nodded, breathing through.

“I’d like to do this, Willow, I just-… It’s-…”

“Painful?”, her friend helped her out and Amity gave a defeated nod.

“I-… I just-… I miss her. It’s been six years and I still miss her.”, she admitted, pulling up her shoulders. When Willow answered and her voice sounded kind of shaky, Amity looked up.

“We all miss her, Amity.”, she reassured her old friend, before tapping the picture with a small smirk, “I could pin the picture to my forehead if that helps?”

The small joke made Amity laugh, honestly laugh, and she shook her head, still giggling amusedly.

“No, please don’t do that.”, she finally mumbled and Willow chuckled along with her, nodding.

“Okay, I won’t.”, they remained silent for a few moments, before Willow squeezed Amity’s hands which were still holding the Grom picture which was significantly less worn than her own, “Ready?”

Amity looked back up to Willow and nodded, ignoring the slight blurriness in her vision, tears in her eyes.

“Y-Yeah, I think so.”, she confirmed and Willow nodded at her again, which she imitated before her friend lifted one hand to cup her cheek, so softly Amity had to close her eyes and swallow not to sniffle.

Slowly, she felt her leaning in, and with a soft nudge, to which Amity responded with a confirming nod once again, Willow’s lips pressed on hers.

It was a brief kiss, very chaste and innocent, and Amity appreciated Willow’s understanding when she broke away, squinting her eyes tightly. Her hand moved to the back of Amity’s head and she pulled her in to rest against Willow’s shoulder, a warm arm wrapping around her middle while Amity shivered. It had been scary and familiar and she didn’t know how to feel when she hid her face in Willow’s shirt, sniffling. But the tears subsided and Amity found the strength to breathe through, before finding her way back to Willow’s lips, keeping her eyes closed while she – with Willow’s consent – tried another kiss.

This one lasted longer because Amity wanted to know how it felt like, quickly falling into the rhythm Willow gave her, while her hands found their way to her cheeks.

It felt nice, admittedly, and she was glad that Willow offered the kiss. She didn’t want to be thrown into emotional turmoil because of one kiss.

Everything was so Willow around them. It engulfed Amity and made her feel safe, calmed her down, to the point where even her shivering subsided. Everything smelled like fresh soil and watered plants and everything was so calm and collected like her friend.

Breathing through, the girls finally ended their kiss and Amity felt Willow leaning her forehead against hers, keeping her eyes closed, before pulling back and catching her gaze.

All she found was concern and reassurance.

“… You okay?”, Willow asked and for some strange reason, Amity found the answer to be yes. Nothing between them had changed. She almost felt as if this kiss hadn’t even existed when Willow looked at her the same way she always did whenever she was worried for her. Giving her a small smile, Amity nodded.

“Y-Yeah, I think so. Are you okay?”, she gave the question back and Willow nodded, smiling.

“That wasn’t that hard, see?”, she asked and Amity shook her head, a bigger smile creeping on her face, making her giggle. The other girl tilted her head in question and Amity kneaded the hem of her shirt again.

“That was actually kind of nice. Maybe I still do want to have a relationship in the future.”, she giggled and Willow playfully rolled her eyes, while speaking to her in a mocking serious tone.

“Amity, I fear I have to break up with you. This is not working anymore.”, This was definitely a side jab at her for thinking every kiss had to result in a relationship. Pretending to be offended, Amity placed her hands on her chest and gasped.

“What?! I thought what we had was special!”, she indignantly cried and Willow laughed loudly when Amity played along, prompting her to place the back of her hand on her forehead.

“I have to leave you! It can’t be helped! I love someone else!”, she explained wistfully and Amity’s eyebrows immediately shot up.

“Who?!”

The way Willow started blushing immediately revealed that she wasn’t playing anymore. Grabbing her shoulders, Willow got up and pulled her up along with her, talking louder than necessary.

“Nobody! Goodnight!”

Amity laughed and tried resisting her friend but Willow was way stronger than her.

“Nooo, Willow, wait! Who do you like?!”, she tried but her friend shook her head, her face the same color of a tomato she grew by the windowsill by now when she relentlessly pushed her out.

“Nope! Byyyeeee!”, she gave Amity a little wave and then shut the door. Still laughing, Amity pounded against the door.

“Willoooow! Let me back in, I wanna tease you some more!”, she whined between laughter and she could tell her friend was also laughing, while still not budging.

“Nooo, go away!”, she yelled from behind the door and Amity finally gave up, retreating to her room with a big grin.

She would definitely find out who Willow was crushing on.

---

Let me know if you liked it!

[k7l4d4]

Owl House AU Ideas, fresh out of Spacebattles!

This here is a collection of ideas that I originally posted over on spacebattles, and sadly ended up not doing anything with. Let me know what you all think of them!

Idea THE FIRST!: Lost In a New World. The premise is that Belos does something that ends up destroying the Isles, with only a small portion of the residents making it off of the Isles to the Human World for safety, via Eda's Portal. The survivors are divided into those who lost faith in Belos or never had it to begin with, and those still loyal to him, with each side headed by Eda and Lilith respectively. To clarify, this all is supposed to take place BEFORE Canon. The destruction of the Isles results in shock-waves through the Human World in the form of tremors, with the resulting Chaos being enough for Camila to convince Principal Hal (I think I got the name right) to allow Luz to attend Summer Classes and a Therapist as opposed to Camp Reality Check, or expulsion. As a side-effect of the Isles' destruction, Magic has been released into the Human Realm, and is now gradually reproducing itself, though the effects aren't too noticeable by anyone right away. To gain info on how to best blend in with the humans, the two factions elect to send one of their own to a Human School in order to gather intel. The choice? Amity. (Gus through his hat into the running but was rejected when it became clear that he couldn't curb his enthusiasm)

Hmmm... I like some of this, and will clarify some points I deliberately withheld in my original posting to see what kind of response I would get. As for shelter and food, let's just say the destruction of the Isles wouldn't exactly be what could be considered CLEAN. Lots of random structures, plants, and animals fell into the Human Realm along with Magic, though not exactly in one piece. They were essentially consumed in a wave of magic, damaged as a result of it, transported to the Human Realm IN MIDAIR, and fell to the ground, with the left over magic from the transfer cushioning them enough for any damage to be negligible, if still highly unpleasant for those mentioned animals and plants. The residual magic basically sent the transported plants into a shock of growth, causing them to instantly put down roots, regardless of their orientation to the ground at the time. The structures... their state upon landing varied based upon the materials used to construct them, what state they were in when transported, and where they actually ended up landing. At least one Witch house ended up in a tree in the Amazon Rain Forest. Most shelter for them consists of whatever structures made it through near their arrival point, along with cooperation between what Construction and Plant Coven trained witches made it across, with Illusionists working together to keep suspicious folks away (for the sake of convenience, let's just say that some of each and every coven and a few outright Wild Witches made it off the Isles), and food is usually gathered through a combination of Plant and Beast Keeping witches, though they are currently trying to ration what they already have and have managed to gather. Initial long-term plans mostly consist of ensuring they can gather the resources they need to survive, and finding out as much about the Human Realm as they can to avoid possible conflict, with most contingencies being under-developed as a result of infighting, with the only concrete plan being to figure out how to construct a new portal and retreating somewhere else, or standing and fighting in the hopes of driving off whatever enemies come their way and carving out a settlement just for them. Suffice to say, they don't have a lot of options on the table that they all agree on. They didn't bring a whole lot of material, with most of the Witches who made it off prioritizing food and essential supplies, but some of the Construction and Beast Keeper Witches managed to wrangle the tools of their respective trades, and some Potion Witches managed to bring over their supplies and potions, as well as the tools to make more. Beyond the initial destruction of Belos' Castle, which was the first to go for plot convenience, the destruction of the Isles lasted approximately a week, starting with just the typical disasters of the Isles occurring slightly more than usual, and escalating to entire chunks of the Isles dropping into the sea, with some of the chunks being landlocked. No one really realized anything was wrong until about halfway through, and it wasn't until the last two days of the destruction that anyone who hadn't already managed to see the that "No, the Emperor isn't coming back and saving us from this mess" was willing to admit that they were basically doomed and decided to convince Eda who, as the only person on the Isles with a consistent source of Human Realm goods, was quickly deduced as having a way to there for help getting off the Isles, with Eda herself figuring out the oncoming destruction almost immediately, and basically spent the entire time selling as many non-essential goods as she could while transporting everything else to Earth and waiting for people to come groveling to her for help. For intelligence gathering... I am sorry if this comes across as rude, but you do realize that very FEW witches actually have a strong enough resemblance to Humans to serve as suitable for Intelligence Work, with a lot of witches having unusual traits even discounting the pointed ears, with one Witchling in particular having an Eyeball for a HEAD. That also applies to those that could mix with the Underworld, they still have very attention grabbing appearances. Also, Witches of the Boiling Isles, Eda included, are so out of touch and ignorant of Humanity as a whole that Amity is basically the only acceptable choice at the moment, as she has a sufficiently human-like appearance to pass muster, being an excellent student who can record a lot of potentially useful information, and having an unflappable demeanor to keep any and all surprise in regards to Human behavior and culture from leaking through and potentially giving away that she isn't what she seems. Seriously, the only things that managed to make her lose her cool in Canon were when she thought (correctly) that Willow was cheating, which she cannot stand, the end of the Covention Duel, where she was publicly humiliated, and Luz, after she developed her MASSIVELY OBVIOUS CRUSH! Even when she is very clearly furious, Amity can keep a civil, level demeanor up until the very end. The only Witch that would be a reasonable option is Willow, and she is supposed to be busy helping out with the Plant Witches in gathering food and assembling shelter, massively boosting her prestige with the other Survivors. I suppose Willow could be sent in as backup for Amity, as well as to serve as an additional source of info, but any other Witches would have to hang back until they gain enough info to pass as Humans. The reason I decided on having a Witchling to act as the informant was because, even if they have any kind of odd behavior that would attract attention, eccentricity is much more tolerated among children than adults, even in an intolerant town or community, or at least that is how I understand it, as adults who don't fit whatever accepted mold is going on usually having nothing to fall back on, whereas kids usually have it treated as a phase, even when it is very clearly not or when it is treated harshly by others. As for easy money, the Witches still need to have a basis of understanding for Human Culture before they can start with that, though I agree that it is going to happen eventually. Any and all Lumity isn't going to happen until way later, and will NOT be the focus beyond being a convenient justification for gags based on Amity's behavior around Luz.

Idea THE SECOND!: Gargoyles. The premise is that their exists a subset of witches with abilities beyond the usual; they are, you guessed it, Gargoyles! Gargoyles are identical to other witches, aside from small, nearly unnoticeable horns at their hairline, and vestigial glider-style wings affixed to their upper arms and back. Gargoyles are naturally stronger, faster, and surprisingly lighter than other witches, and have a natural connection with Wild Magic that can flare up at any time. Gargoyles need to be constantly hydrating, or they will freeze up like a statue, with a solid indicator as to whether or not a Gargoyle is about to freeze is when their skin takes a noticeably gray-ish tone and gains a rock-like texture; the freeze will reverse when they are exposed to a significant enough source of water, at least enough to drench them entirely. Gargoyles occasionally enter a state known as "The Rage," in which they expand in size and enter a berserker style frenzy, usually occurring in moments of extreme stress and panic/anger. Gargoyles are treated as second-class citizens at best, ostracized and hunted at worst, with Gargoylism being undetectable until puberty starts. Amity is a Gargoyle in this AU, and the heavily implied emotional abuse she suffers in canon shifts to physical when it becomes apparent she is a Gargoyle, with regular threats made of what will happen to her if word of her status gets out. Lilith is also a Gargoyle, with only Belos and Eda being aware of her condition.

Priestess!: Premise, Camila, pregnant with Luz, ends up on the Boiling Isles, and, after scrounging to survive, during which she gained a friendly acquaintance relationship with Eda, ends up in the not so tender mercies of the Emperor's Coven. It also just so happens that Luz is a natural born Priestess of the Titan, who is NOT happy with the way Belos is running things. In order to keep things under wraps, Belos takes in the two, raising Luz in extreme isolation, while Camila is basically kept under house arrest. Luz has no idea that she is human she has been so deeply isolated from others, and is genuinely confused by her inability to perform magic. Lilith and Camila strike up a friendship, during which Camila slowly breaks down Lilith's delusions over the nature of what she has done and the relationship she has with her sister, who she does not know is Eda, and bonding over their mutual fondness and exhaustion over the ever excitable Luz. Belos is operating under the belief that if he can keep Luz pacified, the Titan will grant him back its favor, not knowing that his insistence one retaining his policies and methods as they are are what gained its ire, and is basically running down the clock on a time bomb. Camila has grown to accept her stay on the Isles, and even enjoys it from time to time, you know, aside from the whole "held against her will in an ominous castle" thing she has to deal with, but desperately wants to return to Earth with Luz. The storyline kicks off in full when Luz accidentally wonders out of the castle and makes her way through Bonesburough, and meets the Eda in the market. Luz has a direct bond with Magic at the spiritual level, not just the magic of witches and the Wild Magic her Canon self wielded, but all magic, making her incredibly powerful when she finally comes into her own, and her connection with the Titan allows her prophetic impulses, insight into any potential danger that may befall her and the nature of those around her and the magic they wield. Don't worry about her being a Mary Sue, her magical abilities, aside from her mental based ones like her danger sense, are horrifyingly unreliable; they either don't work when she needs them to, or she just flat out can't control them in any sense when they are cast. Also, due to being so sheltered, Luz has even less of a survival instinct them in Canon, resulting in her walking into what could be easily considered a literal death sentence without any form of hesitation. Her isolated early childhood has resulted in an unreliable world view, as she has an unsettling mix of teenage hormones, emotions, and impulses, with all the care, control, and understanding of a five year old on a sugar high. Still sweet as a button, but her naivety often frightens those around her, as she is perfectly willing to inflict fatal injuries on another person, simply because she was never taught why she shouldn't; to clarify, if she has fatally injured someone, she WILL be upset if they die, even if they were a massive jerk who tried to kill her first, she merely doesn't understand how her actions could have resulted in their death. When Eda pegs on to just how messed up this version of Luz can be, mentally speaking, she genuinely worries about Luz trying to rape someone the first time she experiences sexual attraction to someone, as Luz confirmed to her that she knows what sex is, but has no understanding of consent in any sense of the word. This is not meant to be a lighthearted prompt, in any way. Though I guess anyone interested could change it into something less... scream/cringe inducing.

Where Were You?!: This is a twist on the classic role swap. It basically hinges on my Head-Canon that Luz once visited the Boiling Isles as a child (Seriously, she, on her first try, created what was apparently a perfect taxidermy replica of a Boiling Isles style Griffon, and only received confirmation she was right when she actually visited the Isles. That is far too much of a coincidence for me). In this premise, Luz and Amity both end up stumbling into portals leading to the Demon and Human Realms respectively, and both are INCREDIBLY YOUNG when this happens, like around 4 or 5 each. Luz, lost and alone in the incredibly dangerous woodlands of the Isles is taken in by LILITH! Note: This Lilith is a member of the Emperor's Coven, and has not switched places as a Wild Witch with her sister, but, due to certain circumstances, loses her trust and faith in the Emperor and in the Coven system, only staying out of a self-admitted misplaced sense of guilt and obligation. After heading into the Woods to vent her frustrations about life, the Emperor, and her choices, she stumbles across Luz after she had been attacked by the wildlife. It... it wasn't pretty. Overcome with horror over what had happened to a literal child, and probably projecting her grief over her ruined relationship with Eda onto the event, Lilith rushes to save her, but, due to the sheer extent of Luz's injuries and how much is... missing, she is forced to improvise, using a series of forbidden spells and some stolen body parts, along with her own blood, to literally put Luz back together. The trauma is so intense, Luz loses all her memories, including her name, and is subsequently adopted and renamed Lucelyn by Lilith. Amity, upon arriving in the Human Realm, is scared, confused, and hopelessly lost. She essentially wanders around the woods Luz Canonically chased Owlbert through in the first episode, avoiding predators only due to her underdeveloped magic and sheer luck. After days of no food, poor shelter, and limited water, which she only got due to a scare about the rain, Amity FINALLY stumbles her way out to civilization, ecstatic to be free of the woods, hopeful to find her family... and gets hit by a car. She lives, obviously, but her being taken into the hospital following the hit leads to some... awkward discoveries. Like with Luz, the trauma she experienced messed with her memories, but she does retain some. She has fond, if unclear, memories of Willow, and a deeply disturbing to witness panic to the words "Mother, Father, Mom, Dad, Family, etc." The revelations on her anatomy, and how it differs from humans, is something that results in her being called into the hospital for observation and study for years to come, or at least up until Canon time. Due to the potential fallout of the discovery of both her anatomy and DNA getting out, all of Amity's hospital records are highly classified, and officially listed as benign but irreversible/irremovable birth defects, and she is required to take a supplemental drinks to help replenish her bile. After the initial panic over the fact that no, humans are not the only sapient species on earth, is over, Amity is given to a mildly despondent Camila to care for. She doesn't properly remember her original name, and answers to Amy. Lilith raised Luz to the best of her ability... which isn't saying much. While Lilith genuinely loves and cares for Luz, she has no idea how to raise a child, and the accident and subsequent "healing" she received as a youngster really screwed her up. She can perform magic, due to the witch parts fused into her along with Lilith's blood and genetic information, but her control is so deeply connected to her emotion that, if she were to lose her temper, any spell she cast would instantly shift targets to the source of her current ire. The only way she can actually control her spells is to use glyphs, the use of which Lilith encourages in her newfound contempt for the Emperor, and training wands. Due to Lilith's poor child rearing skills, Luz isn't exactly well adjusted, often switching between cool yet kind, to polite but hostile, with her wishy-washy personality often being the source of teasing among her friends, though she is still the same sweet, excitable girl she is in canon, as demonstrated by her taking over Amity's Canon duty of reading to the kids. Amity inherited Luz's canonical trouble with making friends, with most people finding her appearance, particularly those aspects which give away her heritage, frightening. Amity is a sweetheart, but timid and severely lacking in confidence. After rediscovering her magic shortly after moving in with Camila, who loves Amity like she truly was her daughter in spite of her emotional hurt over Luz's disappearance, Amity made it a point to study and discover as much about magic as she possibly could, relentlessly researching any and magical knowledge the Human Realm has, with many of the ancient traditions of humans themselves translating into workable spells and magic practices. Amity is a huge nerd, but also one of the best jocks in her school, which helps counterbalance her otherwise less than stellar reputation as a klutz and a slacker. She isn't actually a slacker, but her obsessive magic research has given her a mild case of chronic insomnia, resulting in her randomly falling asleep at the strangest of times and places, including in class. Amity liberally takes inspiration for her magic from a variety of sources, including blatant ripoffs from anime, though she usually saves those for special occasions, with a lot of her spells falling under the umbrella of "Awesome but Impractical."

Willow is very different as opposed to Canon. After Amity's disappearance, and subsequent funeral after her parents gave her up as dead, Willow felt the need to toughen up. She never once believed that Amity had died, and wished to grow stronger to ensure she would be able to keep her safe when (and Willow knew it was a matter of when, not if) Amity managed to return. This training culminated in the second-year anniversary of Amity's funeral, where she met Boscha. Boscha, being, well, Boscha, didn't make the best impression on Willow, not that it mattered later. A tremor ripped through the area, opening up a deep crevasse beneath Boscha, nearly sending her plummeting to her doom, only to be saved by Willow in an impressive, not to mention frightening, display of Plant Magic. The incident led to Willow being hailed as a hero, and a local celebrity, but Willow quickly pegged on to how people, particularly those with known agendas, were cozying up to her in the hopes of gaining favor with the new local darling. To protect herself, Willow grew cold and distant, maintaining a professional distance from everyone at all times. She was eventually approached by Luz, and grew fond of her when it became clear Luz didn't give a hoot about her status or power. Boscha never fully recovered from the shock of her brush with death. The fall left her sullen and riddled with self-doubt, destroying her faith in her skills, along with resulting in her developing a fascination with Willow, going out of her way to confront her, only to be brushed aside like dirt on the road every time, which really didn't help her low self-esteem. Her self doubt translated itself to all aspects of her life, leaving her near totally isolated and struggling academically, with the only person willing to really interact with her being Skara. Her only outlet is her Grudgby skills, which allow her to vent her frustration and gain something resembling respect. Gus is much more mischievous than in Canon, as well as even more insecure. After his status as a mild prodigy became apparent, resulting in him skipping a few grades, Luz quickly took an interest in Gus, and subsequently took him under her wing, acting as a shield to those who would bully or dismiss him due to his age. While this has made him more comfortable in his skills, it has also resulted in a mild form of hero-worship in regards to Luz, constantly fearing that if he can't measure up to her expectations (she has none) that she will abandon him to fend for himself. Due to this self-doubt, Gus is envious of Willow's power, as it means, in his mind, that her position with Luz is secure, though Willow herself is indifferent to his feelings on the subject; they are both more Luz's friends than they are each other's friends. Due to Luz protecting him from bullies, Gus is far more willing to use his magic to goof off, even more so than how he uses his clones to skip class. Skara is a peppy cheerleader type girl, so kind that she genuinely struggles with saying a mean word to, well, anyone! As a result of never having to go along with Boscha's bullying, as it often seemed to me like her Canon self was just doing it because it was expected of her, she is highly empathetic, acting as willing listener to other's problems, and a comforting shoulder to cry on. She is fascinated by music and art in any form, and eagerly shakes Amity down for everything she has to offer. Because she associates with someone so far down the social ladder compared to Canon, Skara isn't nearly as popular, but her kindness means she is highly regarded by pretty much everyone, even Willow smiles when talking to her. Lilith is a persistent worrywart in regards to Luz, calling her at all hours of the day to make sure she is okay. She is cognizant of the fact that she didn't do a good job raising Luz, and has constructed a thousand and one practice apology letters in case she ever meets Luz's biological family. Due to her newfound contempt for the Emperor, she makes no real effort to apprehend Eda, and makes it a point to be as amicable as possible when talking with her. The only real point of contention between them on her own end is that Lilith frequently criticizes Eda for not using her status as the greatest Wild Witch to gather followers and build a power base for herself, often punctuated by her ominously rubbing her hands together, which Eda finds unsettling in the extreme, though Lilith will often backtrack and (poorly) change the subject whenever anyone calls her out on her blatantly treasonous thoughts, including Eda. Lilith has developed a habit of muttering schemes to dethrone the Emperor when she thinks other people aren't listening, and cackling maniacally, which often causes people to stare and ask if she's okay. While aware that she did a poor job rearing her, Lilith is insanely proud of Luz, willing to pull out a ridiculously large number of photos (or whatever the BI equivalent is) to shove in people's faces, including Eda. One of Eda's newest escape strategies is to ask Lilith how Luz is doing, as it instantly makes her drop whatever she is currently doing to ramble on about how proud she is and what Luz has most recently accomplished; everyone, including Lilith herself, agrees that it is annoying. As a result of no longer having Amity to push all their negative attention to, the Blight parents switched to the Twins, who they are much more critical of their faults now that they don't have Amity as a deliberate scapegoat. Emira was subjected to an immense amount of scrutiny due to her position as the (slightly) more responsible twin, and was aggressively pushed to be the perfect Blight. While she can put up the act, Emira deeply resents both of her parents, and eagerly awaits the opportunity to slip their control. She despises how they brushed aside Amity's disappearance, and while putting up the goody-two-shoes act, she longs for the good old days of pulling pranks and teasing her little sis. Edric was shoved aside, regarded as an embarrassment now that Amity was no longer around for him to look good in comparison to. Because he wasn't subjected to the same expectation of being the face of the Blight Family Emira was, he lashed out in the extreme, garnering a reputation as an out of control troublemaker and was switched to the Detention Track for all that he has done. On the few occasions that he and Em have been able to slip away from their parents' notice, they act similarly to Canon, but with a noticeable tension between them. Both latch onto Luz as a surrogate sister, though they both are adamant that she is not and can never be a replacement for Amity, and affectionately nickname her Kittens as a reference to her love of cats and her catlike capriciousness. They are the first to peg onto the fact that "Amy" might be the missing member of the Blight family, as she reflexively hissed upon hearing the name Mittens, something Amity did when younger when the twins first started using the nickname as a way to tease her, though they are both apprehensive over the idea out of fear of being wrong. How's about that? Oh, and before I forget, as a result of Amity repeatedly casting magic and testing spells in the Human Realm, magic has slowly started to accumulate and proliferate over the years, resulting in several groups with magic and magic-adjacent practices and beliefs to discover that they suddenly have true powers, much to their shock and delight. Also, I head-canon that residents of the Boiling Isles treat a lot of stuff that is exceptionally weird on Earth as being a result of their influence, and, because of the whole "banished the giraffes" thing, that they often brought over creatures and things from the Human Realm out of a belief that it was actually theirs. When they couldn't stand the giraffes anymore, they sent them back to where they originally found them, and that was that. They didn't realize that the small portion they had originally taken was such a small part of them, and probably never will. Edit: I know that the Twins almost definitely received plenty of negative attention from their parents in Canon, I just feel that Amity originally got the Lion's Share due to physically standing out more and not being as inherently talented. Without those traits around to target, they switched to attacking the twins over their trouble-making ways.

To break it down; firstly, I am basing some of these decisions on Canon elements, with Amity being considered frightening/weird looking being a result of her biological traits, yes, but also because she would be growing up in Luz's hometown which, apparently, doesn't have a good track record with ANYTHING even remotely unusual, as a lot of what got Luz in trouble back in the Human Realm was weird, but ultimately very much harmless stuff that apparently was enough to send all the other kids screaming. Seriously, the most dangerous things Luz did were the spiders and the snakes, everything was just, well, weird! So, I think it would be fair to say that Luz's school wouldn't react well to Amity's appearance, or it would at least create some kind of obstacle social wise. For the bile thing, a sample to analyze would be taken shortly after bringing her in after the accident, at least once they peg onto the fact that she isn't exactly human. The drink wouldn't be made early on, I was honestly thinking it wouldn't be available until she was entering her preteens. The drink would be to stimulate her body's natural production and reproduction of bile, like those medicines used to help with blood loss. I head-canon that using magic in the Human Realm is very taxing for Witches as they don't have the ambient magic of the Titan to draw on to bolster their reserves and accelerate their recovery, though particularly powerful Witches would need to seriously work if they wanted to even make a dent in their own reserves. Amity's experiments with magical techniques early on are supposed to be what kick off the development of the drink, as she only has the reserves of a child and is using a lot of magic in an environment where she can't recover easily. I also head-canon that bile is merely metabolized when Witches cast magic, it NEEDS to be metabolized when Witches cast magic at that, and as such all Witches have the exact same amount of bile, discounting variances in weight, height, etc. A Witch's magical power is based on how much magic they use in relation to how much bile they "burn" at any given time. The idea that Camila is one of Amity's original nurses... I LIKE IT!! But as to the government thing, they don't immediately know, as the vast majority of Hospitals are privately owned businesses and don't actually answer to the government. I'd say that, depending on how many shenanigans she gets up to, Amity has a solid year before the government finds out about her, at which point they essentially take over the research into Amity, who I will remind you is suffering significant memory loss in regards to her past and was an incredibly young child when she came to the Human Realm so anything she knew would be massively incomplete to start with, and more or less leave everything alone once they cotton on to just how bad it would be take an apparently super-powered alien child from her foster mother to experiment on her. As for Reality Check, I haven't figured that part out yet, or if I'll keep it at all. For native magic users and the jumpstarting of magic on Earth... I have two ideas about how magic functions in The Owl House. The first type is internally originating magic, otherwise known as Witchcraft, which is where bile comes in, and externally originating magic, otherwise known as Shamanism and Wild Magic, which draws on magic from one's environment. Magic returning to the Human Realm is something I envision as being well under way for quite some time, with Amity jumpstarting the process being due to her living there for years, casting magic constantly, or near enough, in her research, merely acting as the straw that broke the camel's back in this scenario; she didn't actually start it so much as she accidentally finished it, and even that took a few years. Witchcraft would be like what you said, human descendants of Witches using proto-bile sacks to fuel their abilities, whereas Shamans would be useless until the Magic Jumpstart actually happens. Witchcraft doesn't actually need circle drawing, it was just the preferred method of BI Witches, so much so that it is now partially built into them. Shamanism always needs some kind of symbol-based focus, or something that has been infused with magic, preferably something that once was or was at least part of something alive at some point. I also head-canon that, due to the supplement speeding up recuperation times, Amity practices magic a LOT, so she has gradually gotten better at metabolizing her bile to perform spells and such, making her much more powerful than she would be at that age, the only problems being that, due to her obsessive studies, her understanding of the various types of magic she can perform are patchy, relegating her skills to either the absolute basics, or Awesome but Impractical; to give an extreme example if this, in one particular school of magic, she knows exactly two spells, one that will move any object within her line of sight exactly one foot in any unobstructed direction so long as she can physically move it on her own if need be, and one that involves summoning a beam of light strong enough to destroy a house made out of concrete that can only be performed during a thunderstorm on a full moon while standing on one leg and blindfolded (that particular spell was created whilst the original caster was drunk out of their mind on a dare, and no one, not even the creator themselves, are sure who thought it was a good idea to write it down).

This is a free to use collection for anyone looking for something to try their hand at or to sink their teeth into. Note: Some of the story elements I used to build this were ones found within the fandom rather than my own opinions on the characters in question.

[olliepig]

Waiting in the Wings ch 4

It's the morning after the night before....

Massive thanks are due to the wonderful @willow-salix for her invaluable help with this.

As always, the full thing can be found on AO3 here

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In the dim glow of the pre-dawn Scott came to and smiled to himself, basking in the memories of the previous few hours and the feeling of calm that had come over him. Opening his eyes, he could see Cat’s hair arrayed on the pillow next to him, framing her face and he kissed it gently, feeling the soft strands tickling his nose.

Cat rolled over in her sleep, seeking him out and unconsciously wrapped herself around him. He felt her arm thread around his waist as she snuggled herself into him for comfort, whimpering slightly and burying her face into his shoulder. Instinctively, he pulled her close and she relaxed, deep sleep claiming her again. He kissed the top of her head sleepily as he drifted off again too, tangled up in each other and content.

Hours laters, Cat awoke to the morning light creeping around the edges of the curtains, the room now bathed in a golden glow. Still not fully awake, she looked blearily around trying to work out why she wasn't in her usual bedroom at Creighton-Ward manor before suppressing a small smile as she remembered the events of the previous night. Behind her, she could feel the unmistakable warmth of Scott and she rolled over carefully and propped herself up on one elbow, doing her best not to wake him.

Deep in sleep, he possibly looked even more handsome than usual despite his striking eyes being hidden, their long, dark lashes casting shadows on his cheeks. Worry lines that she knew hadn't been there the last time she had shared a bed with him were smoothed away, leaving him looking relaxed and happy as a small smile tugged at the corners of his full lips.

Reaching out, she ran her fingers through his hair ever so gently, taking in the flashes of grey that were now visible at the temples. She couldn’t say she was surprised at their presence given what she knew he’d been through over the years.

He had kicked most of the covers off during the night and she let her eyes roam across his uncovered torso, such a familiar sight even after all the time that had passed. There was the jagged scar he’d gotten from falling out a tree trying to help John get his toy rocket back after it veered off course when they were kids; over there, the one from where he went over the handlebars of his bike and hit his shoulder on the edge of the kerb. She smiled, remembering lying like this with him before, listening to him tell her all the stories she apparently still knew so well.

But then there were the new scars, the ones she didn’t recognise that clearly had stories of their own that she wasn’t privy to. Without thinking, she reached out and traced one gently with her finger, suddenly realising just how much time had passed since the last time they had lain in bed together and how little she really knew about the man he was now.

She had always had an inkling of the toll that their job must take upon the men of International Rescue and getting closer to Scott had confirmed her suspicions. Nobody who dealt with life and death on a daily basis could come out unscathed; the new scars Scott carried were testament to that.  

Her mind wandered back to Penny, beside herself with worry after what she now knew to be Gordon’s near deadly run in with the Chaos Crew. When it happened, Cat hadn’t known exactly who or what had been involved but what she did know was that it was the only time in 15 years she’d seen her friend truly distressed. Now that the circumstances and nature of the accident had been explained to her, she could see why.

Suddenly, she found her peace shattered by the unwelcome realisation of the implications of her actions the previous night. There was an attraction between them still. That much was clear. But whether that was enough for them to form any kind of romantic relationship again when the stakes were so high was open for debate. And more importantly, she wasn’t sure she wanted another relationship, especially not with someone who had hurt her in the past.

She shuddered slightly as she remembered her last attempt at dating. Her former partner had taken offence not just at the amount of time she spent at work, but also at the close relationships she had with her fellow dancers. After months of put downs and arguments that made Cat wonder why on earth she had stayed for so long, the final straw had come when he’d seen her kissing one of them. In normal circumstances this would be a reasonable cause for argument but for the fact that it had been on stage, during a performance. Despite how clearly ridiculous it was, his paranoia was such that he was adamant this proved that she was cheating and he gave her the ultimatum of choosing her career or him. She had walked away that night but it had soured her views on relationships in general ever since and had made her much more cautious about dating anyone who didn’t completely understand the demands of her job.

Looking down at Scott, she was relieved that he hadn’t seemed fazed by any of that when they were together before or in the limited contact they’d had over the past weeks. However, her brain helpfully  reminded her of his question regarding the nature of her relationship with her best friend the previous night. She had dismissed it at the time, thinking he was just making sure that he wasn’t crossing any lines but the voice in her head wasn’t so sure. She had ignored it before to her cost but what if it were right for a second time?

Not wanting to risk waking him, she remained unmoving for a time, letting her thoughts whirl and coalesce. The truth was she had no idea what she wanted to say to him when he awoke.

Suddenly realising she needed space to think, she slipped out of bed and quietly dressed herself, following the trail of clothes scattered from the bed to the door.

“Good morning,” came Scott’s voice from behind her as she reached for the door handle, making her jump and freeze in her tracks.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you,” Cat whispered, feeling like a deer caught in the headlights as she crossed the distance between them, settling herself delicately on the edge of the bed as he sat himself up to face her.

“Running away so soon? I thought you’d at least stay for breakfast,” Scott tried to joke, the doubt in his eyes as they met hers betraying his jovial tone.

“I wasn’t sneaking away, I promise. I was just going to get changed before everyone gets up and starts asking questions,” she reassured, hating herself for her partial lie but unwilling to say more until she had managed to settle her thoughts.

“Sounds like a good idea to me,” murmured Scott, scooting closer to her up the bed and nuzzling into her neck, trailing kisses up towards her jaw.

Cat couldn’t help herself. Despite her turmoil she tilted her head away to allow him easier access, closing her eyes and sighing as his hand slid round the back of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair once more. Unbidden, her hand reached up, resting on his bicep and pulling him closer as she moved her head slightly to catch his lips with her own in a lingering kiss before pulling back and standing.

“I’ll be back soon I promise. Then I think we should probably talk about this,” she gestured to the bed, making Scott’s blood run cold.

Left alone, Scott sat for a time on the bed, not moving from his previous position and wondering where he had gone wrong.

To say he was confused would be an understatement. They had never specifically talked about where their relationship would go, but given their flirting and the events of the previous night, he had woken up fairly certain that it had moved into romantic territory. The moment they had just shared before she left would have added credence to that theory but for her other actions that morning. Sneaking out without waking your partner up after your first night together generally didn’t scream “romance of the century” and there was something in her tone when she said that they needed to talk that struck something akin to dread into him.

Deciding that he'd be better placed if he were dressed for whatever conversation was coming his way, he swung his long legs out of bed and headed for his bag. Rummaging through it, he found his clothes and threw them on before collecting his belongings from where they had fallen the previous night, smiling at the memories they awoke but his happiness tinged with worry of what was coming next.

Lacking anything else to do but wait, he settled himself down and contented himself with scrolling mindlessly through his phone, trying hard to concentrate on the screen instead of letting his brain get too far ahead of him.

Overthinking had always been a bad habit of his and was definitely the downside of his tendency to act first and think later. Most of the time his instincts were good and he got it right, but when he didn’t it could leave a world of regrets for him to sift through. Wracking his brains, he couldn’t think of anything he had done wrong the previous evening but there was a gnawing doubt that he just couldn't shake that something was amiss.

After what felt like an age, he finally heard the soft knock that he’d been waiting for and he crossed the room quickly, keen to get whatever conversation was needed started.

“Is everything OK?” he asked, stepping back to allow her entry.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Cat said, crossing the room and sitting on the couch in the small sitting area that Penny always provided for her guests.

“So, what’s going on then?” asked Scott, weighing up his options and choosing a chair slightly off to one side. Ordinarily he would have chosen to sit next to her but something about her demeanour set alarm bells ringing and he wanted to be able to maintain a respectful distance in case the conversation soured.

“I don’t know,” Cat sighed, not knowing how to proceed. She had come in absolutely sure of how to have the conversation she knew she needed to but now she was in front of him, it seemed so much harder somehow.

“Well, can I take you for dinner sometime?” Scott asked, deciding that he was going to have to be the one to make the first move. Cat visibly tensed at his question and Scott quickly realised that she was steeling herself to do something unpleasant, sending his heart plummeting.

“Scott, listen, I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. I don’t really have time for a relationship right now with everything I’ve got coming up at work. And we both know how it ended before. I don’t know if I want a repeat of that if I’m honest,” she held up a hand to stop him from interrupting before she continued. “I know it was years ago and I have forgiven you but it doesn’t take away the fact that it still happened. You don’t just get to swan back in here with your big blue eyes and your dimples and sweep me off my feet,” she finished much more forcefully than she had expected, suddenly aware that long buried emotions were starting to make themselves known.

“I… I’m sorry. I didn't think…” Scott stammered, taken aback by the sudden anger in her voice.

“Look Scott, you really hurt me ok? I mean, we knew we were going to be long distance for a while but we worked it all out, having me in London and you in the Air Force. And then suddenly you were deployed for a few weeks and it was over? I was devastated, Scott. Do you know that? I was 3 weeks into finding my feet in a new city and a new company and suddenly the one person I thought would have my back no matter what dropped me without a backward glance.  That really fucking hurt!” Cat took a deep breath and blinked away the tears that were threatening to fall.

“I don’t know what to say,” stammered Scott, all his worst fears about the impact of his actions suddenly confirmed.

“Saying goodbye to you before you deployed was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do,” sniffed Cat, looking at the floor as she slumped in her seat letting the tears flow freely, her anger giving way to grief. “I spoke to so many of the other wives and girlfriends before you left so I thought I knew what to expect but nothing could prepare me for it. Moving away from you to London was bad enough without you heading into a war zone at the same time. I had no idea if I’d ever see you again. I get that it was just really shitty timing for everything and I know that part wasn’t your fault but to go through that, start getting life back to normal and then being dumped when I was back on my feet was the worst.

“You nearly destroyed me, Scott,” she continued, looking up at him again as the tears continued to fall. “I couldn’t eat, I couldn't sleep. And all the while I was trying to make new friends and impress in a new company. Thank god for Penny and Parker for looking after me all through it.”

Wiping away the tears, she held his gaze when she stopped talking, as if daring him to look away from the impact of his actions and his heart ached as the reality of the hurt he’d been responsible for was rammed home for him.

Before he was even aware he was moving, Scott found himself on the sofa next to her, his arms wrapped tightly around her, pulling her into his chest. She clung to him, burying her face in his neck as he kissed the top of her head, trying desperately to give her the comfort that she needed.

Even though it had been his decision, their breakup had hurt him too and he well remembered the pain in his chest as he had ended that call; it was the same as the pain that was there now. When it came to relationships, he’d been brought up to always consider others feelings before acting and being confronted with his failure to do so hit him hard.

“I’m so sorry. You’re right, I absolutely shouldn’t have done it like that. I just didn’t think about the timing at all,” Scott felt terrible but also defensive of his actions. Despite the hurt they had so obviously caused, they had been made for a good reason.

“Why?” she asked simply, looking up at him but not pulling away from his embrace. “Why did you do it?”

The simplicity of the question caught him off guard and Scott’s mind was suddenly pitched back into the chaos of the first few weeks of his deployment. Cat waited and watched quietly as Scott tried to sort through the memories, the silence building between them.

“I was scared,” he admitted finally. “I’d seen so much death over the few weeks that I’d been there that I thought I wouldn’t ever be the same again and I didn’t know what to do. I thought it was better for you if I left than if you had to deal with the aftermath when I got back.”

“You would have been worth it,” she replied quietly, not trusting herself to say any more without crying again.

“But it wouldn't have been fair to put that on you. You had your own life to live - look how amazingly you’ve done. You didn’t need me coming back and ruining it all for you.”

“So you’re saying the only reason you broke us up was to protect me?” Cat clarified with a hint of a sneer in her voice, her previous anger starting to return.

“Absolutely. If it wasn’t for that, there’s no way I’d have let you go.” Scott was earnest in his response but the warning in Cat’s tone had the first doubts about his actions starting to creep in.

“Bullshit,” she spat, pulling sharply away from his embrace. “You just didn’t want to risk the guilt you’d have felt if you’d come back with some kind of trauma so you decided to make life easier for yourself. It was completely selfish.”

“No! That’s absolutely not it!” Scott was horrified that his actions could have been taken in such a way. “I just wanted to protect you. I didn’t know what else would happen when I was there. We’d already had one guy seriously injured if you remember? I could have come back mentally or physically changed. And I might not have come back at all.”

“But you didn't! You were fine!”

“But I didn’t know that, did I?” exclaimed Scott, exasperated and bewildered in equal measure.

“But surely you can see that it should have been my choice to make?” Cat pointed out, taking a deep breath and trying to regain some of her composure. “I wanted to wait for you and be there for you through whatever the aftermath might throw at us. If you’d changed and I couldn’t handle it then I should have made that call.”

“You’re right. And I’m sorry. It’s all I can say now. I shouldn’t have made that decision for you. You have no idea how much I wish I could take it back” Scott found tears prickling his eyes now that the flash of frustration had passed and the conversation had calmed somewhat.

“Hey,” said Cat softly, her anger evaporating as she gently cupped his cheek with her hand, stroking the soft skin beneath his eye with her thumb. “It’s ok. I understand. I can’t imagine the stress you must have been under.”

Scott leant into her touch, closing his eyes and allowing himself a moment to savour the comfort it brought before looking back at her.

“It was the stupidest decision I’ve ever made,” he said quietly, his eyes imploring her to believe him. “As soon as I’d said it I wanted to take it back and when I got off the call I felt like I couldn't breathe for the pain in my chest.”

“I remember that feeling well,” commented Cat, with a look that went right through Scott.

He’d always known that the hurt he had felt must have been replicated in her, but to have it confirmed was like a dagger to the heart. With a shock, he realised that she had probably felt it worse than him, as at least he had known it was coming while she had been completely blindsided by it.

“I loved you, you know,” Scott said suddenly. “More than you probably realise.”

“And I didn’t just run off and find someone else,” he added, unsure of why but feeling compelled to tell her anyway. “I’ve not had a serious girlfriend since we broke up - nobody else has ever compared to how amazing you are.”

“I really loved you too Scott. If we’d stayed together then...” Cat tailed off with a sad smile and a gentle shrug, making Scott’s already fractured heart shatter with the knowledge of what could have been. “Well, I guess we’ll never know.”

Silence fell between them as they both took in the shifts in their understanding of the circumstances surrounding their break up and gathered their thoughts.

“So what now?” he ventured, trying not to hold his breath as he waited for the answer.

“Do you think we can start over again maybe? As friends?” Cat answered, feeling surprisingly shy and nervous about the answer.

“Sounds good to me,” Scott smiled, despite the pang in his heart as it mourned the loss of something it had hoped for but never truly had.

“Friends then?” Cat stood up, the relief palpable in her voice and demeanour as she held out her arms for a hug.

“Friends,” Scott confirmed, wrapping his arms around her and kissing the top of her head as he held her tightly.

[lovemesomesurveys]

[yourheaventonight]

Where have you been all my life? I’ve always been right here.

Can you recite the Greek alphabet backwards? Nope. Or at all.

What social networks are you a part of? Like every main one.

Which of your fields of interest are you a total expert on? I’m not a total expert on anything.

What is one thing you will never understand? Why I’m like this.

Do you blog? This is it.

What was the last movie you watched? Godzilla vs Kong.

^Would you recommend it? Yeah, I enjoyed it. Admittedly, I was mainly interesting for Alexander Skarsgard, but I did think the movie was good.

With whom did you share your last awkward moment? My life is an awkward moment.

When was the last time you got all dolled up? It’s been yearsss.

Gimme yer best shot and insult me. Go ahead. Uh, no.

What do you think makes a person attractive? Physical attributes, certainly, but personality traits and who they are as a person makes a person attractive to me as well. Even more so.

Out of everyone you know, who has the worst taste in music? I don’t think anyone I know has bad taste in music, I share a lot of the same music taste.

^How about the best? ^^^

Can guys REALLY pull off skinny jeans? They can wear whatever they want.

What is one thing you missed out on that you wish you hadn't? I missed out on a lot of my 20s I feel like, it feels like a complete blur. I don’t know what happened to them. And now I’m in my 30s and I feel like I’m missing out on those, too. Just life, in general for the past several years. Everyone around is me is doing things and living life and I’m just wasting away.

What was the last thing/place you decorated? My room for Christmas.

Have you just recently started listening to any new bands? No. It’s been a long time since I’ve discovered any new bands.

How many windows/tabs are open on your computer right now? Two windows, 7 tabs.

Would you rather date someone really skinny or really overweight? I want to date someone based on other things. 

Let me in on a little secret of yours. Nah.

What is one habit you had as a child? Nail biting/picking. 

^Do you still have that habit today? Sigh, yes.

Is there someone you wish you were closer with? Yes.

^What's stopping you from being closer with them? I’ve been so distant and withdrawn from everyone.

Besides air, what was the last thing you inhaled? The scent of my ramen earlier.

Which point in life do you think is hardest? (i.e. childhood, adulthood...) For me it’s been the past few years.

How was life going for you, say, six months ago? Not well.

^Is that the same as today, or have things changed? Things have changed, but not in a good way.

Who was the last person to make you frown? It’s been things I’m struggling with doing that, not a person.

^Was anyone able to turn that frown upside-down? No.

What was the last non-papery substance you drew on? I have no idea.

What is one thing you wish you had the courage to do? Get certain things checked out and taken care of that I’ve put off for too long.

Which is bigger: Your iTunes library or your CD collection? My iTunes collection was definitely better. I haven’t used iTunes since like 2012, though, and I don’t have any CDs anymore.

What is your one true weakness? I’m just weak.

When is the last time you had hot chocolate? It’s been a couple years.

Composition notebooks or spiral notebooks? Why? Spiral. I just like them better.

What is the most bizarre compliment you've ever received? That I looked pretty for someone with polio. I don’t have polio, but they assumed I did just because I’m in a wheelchair. Also, what does that even mean? “For someone with polio.” Wtf?

Do you identify more with guys or girls? I think I relate more to girls.

When someone you know is sad, how do you go about cheering them up? I kinda suck at that and don’t know what to do or say.

Has someone ever accused you of not being creative enough? I say that about myself. I lack creativity or any artistic ability. 

Starbucks coffee or Dunkin Donuts coffee? I’ve only had Dunkin’s coffee a few times, but I’ve had Starbucks countless times and I do like it, so I’ll go with that. I do wish I had a Dunkin where I live cause apart from the donuts, I’ve heard they do have good brewed coffee.

Do you crack under peer pressure? Yepppp. And it doesn’t take much.

What do you think deserves more attention than it already gets? Hmm.

What song never fails to get stuck in your head? Songs I hear in commercials.

Who is your favorite vocalist? Why? Chester Bennington is one. His voice was incredible.

What is your most overused emoticon? This one: 😬 Do you ever name objects? (i.e. mp3 players, guitars, cars, etc.) Nah.

When was the last time you had a bagel? Hm. It’s been awhile, actually. I don’t even remember. Can you lick your own elbow? No.

What time during the day/night is your mind most active? At night when I’m up alone.

What color ink does your favorite pen have? I have a nice set of colorful pens that I really like.

What was the last thing you licked? My lips.

Who was the last person in your bed besides yourself? Just me. Can you touch your tongue to your nose? No.

What flavor mouthwash do you use? I don’t. Mouthwash irritates my mouth.

What tends to distract you most? I just find myself zoning out a lot. Like, someone will be talking to me and I feel myself getting overwhelmed quite easily and drift out and it doesn’t mean they’re boring or talking about heavy things (sometimes they are). I get like sensory overload. Or I’ll just be sitting in bed and zone out.

Is the perfect man or woman a myth? Yes. No one is perfect.

How do you feel about Bob Marley? I like a couple songs.

What's your favorite fairy tale? I liked reading or listening to all of them when I was growing up. <<<

Do you know who Tom Jones is? Yes.

Tell me one fact you know about horses (without using Google). They have manes.

When was the last time you had to walk up or down stairs? Well, never since I’m in a wheelchair.

Tell me one unique quality about your own handwriting. My handwriting is shit.

What daily chore do you secretly enjoy? I don’t enjoy any type of cleaning.

Has a child ever asked you a question you found difficult to answer? Definitely. Kids ask a lot of questions about everything and anything.

Name five books you've read in the past year. I’ve read a ton more than that, but I’ll give you the latest 5: Cold Highway, Cold Threat, Cold Hunt, Cold Truth, and To Die For.  You can probably tell the first 4 are by the same author, Mary Stone. The last one is by Willow Rose.

^Are any of those books your favorite? I’ve enjoyed ‘em all. I’ve read a lot of books from both authors.

Are you a person that enjoys re-reading books? I don’t re-read books, actually. 

Which hobby is the lamest: stamp collecting or spoon collecting? I wouldn’t call either of them lame just cause it might not be something I’m personally interested in. Those bring some people joy.

What do you daydream about most often? My mind wanders off to random stuff, stuff I’m dealing with, stuff I’m anxious and stressed out about, etc.

Why is your favorite band your favorite band? I’ve listened to them since middle school, so we have a lot of history. I really just connect and relate to their lyrics and I love their music.

Do you have a favorite talk show host? Nah.

What do you wish you could afford at the moment? A beach home with my own private beach area. 

What is the most unusual color you've ever painted your nails? I can’t think of any “unusual” colors that I’ve painted them. 

Which sounds the most refreshing: a hot shower or a cold one? I always take hot showers.

Have you ever made your own soap? No.

What's your favorite popsicle flavor? Not a popsicle fan.

Can you sleep with socks on? Yeah, I always have socks on.

When was the last time you were pissed beyond belief and why? I’ve been frustrated and pissed with some things I’ve been dealing with lately. 

Name a band with the word 'red' in their title. Red Hot Chili Peppers.

Do you have a favorite candle brand? I’m not a candle person. I just go for the room sprays.

How many years until you turn 38? 6. D:

What is your opinion on taxidermy? I find it super creepy and weird.

Would you ever want to own a body part in a jar? Uh, no.

What is the worst thing you have ever done to your own hair? Let it get really knotted up. :/

What do you think makes you a good girlfriend or boyfriend? Nothing.

What qualities of yours do you think could potentially harm a relationship? I’m a total mess, I wouldn’t make a good girlfriend. 

How often do you indulge in a favorite food from your childhood? I eat ramen regularly.

Have any of your childhood habits carried over into adolescence/adulthood? My damn nail picking habit. 

What is the nicest thing you've done for someone else in the past 24 hours? Nothing.

What sort of conditions do you require in order for you to fall asleep? It needs to be cool and I have to have the TV on.

What is the first band that comes to mind when I say 'dark'? Uhhh.

Do you have a favorite punk band? Green Day.

As far as relationships go, what are your biggest deal-breakers? Abuse and cheating. <<<

Be honest: do looks really matter to you? They’re like a bonus to me. <<<

Congratulations! Someone sent you flowers! What kind do you hope they are? I’m not picky, just a pretty assortment perhaps would be nice.

What type of underwear do you personally prefer to wear? Hipsters.

What is the grossest chore you've ever been assigned? Nothing gross.

What band (BESIDES IRON MAIDEN) comes to mind when I say 'iron'? I got nothin. 

Have you ever done something simply because you were of age? I had to go out and buy alcohol the day I turned 21.

Do you think it's worth it to tell someone you had feelings for them when you don't have them anymore? Wait, tell them I used to have feelings for them but don’t anymore? If I don’t anymore then why tell them about when I used to? Unless of course we were in a relationship and I no longer felt that way.

What color shirts do you tend to buy most often? Black.

Have you ever done something you once thought you'd be too chicken to do? Yeah.

Where would you rather go: Portland, Oregon or Portland, Maine? Portland, Oregon.

Name a band that begins with the letter Y. Yeah Yeah Yeahs.

Tell me about someone who has made a huge impact in your life. My mom most definitely has.

What can I usually find you doing at 4pm on a weekday? At that time any day I’m likely still sleeping.

What's a food you love but don't get to eat very often? I only eat the same few foods, so I eat them quite often. Like, I eat Wingstop 3-4 times a week...

Do you dot your lowercase i's? Yes.

What's the first song on your iPod/mp3 player that comes up under P? I use Spotify on my phone for music, but anyway nah I don’t feel like doing that. 

Do the words 'Amon' and 'Amarth' mean anything to you? No.

What's your favorite mythical being? I don’t really have a favorite.

Don't you hate surveys that end abruptly? As long as the question itself isn’t cut off, which I’ve seen, or it’s a numbered one and a question is completely missing then I don’t care.

Let's end this survey with a smile; tell me something funny. I’m not in a good mood to think of something funny right now.

[queenjunoking]

The Branding Ceremony Part 1

CW: Branding - Breath Control - Electricity - Impact - Hair Cutting - Kidnapping - Manipulative Language - Permanent Bondage - Piss

“You, stand up.”

“You can’t do that! I trained it! You don’t have any right to go over my head!”

I looked over to see what was happening. The branding ceremony was starting to reach its end. The example was brought in. Locked in the same frame one was always locked in. Open and vulnerable. No way to cover itself. It was left ungagged, hearing it scream was part of the enjoyment for the crowd. It was either a slave who had disobeyed in the extreme and attempted to do something like attack their owner, or a master that had done a grave crime against the Society.

One of the women on the stage walked up next to the frame and looked at a sheet of paper she had. “As of this moment this slave has been stripped of its name. It is gone from our records. It has tried to escape from Miss Grace Willows’s estate on four separate occasions and last month managed to escape her bonds and tried to attack Miss Willows in her sleep.”

Then it made the mistake of interrupting. “Please don’t do this to me, I don’t deserve this! She was a monster! I’ll be good I promi-” It’s begging was cut off by the electricity that flooded through the frame, causing It to scream.

The woman holding the paper turned to the slave. “If you speak out any more we have permission to set you on timed breathing after you are sealed away. Once every 15 seconds for the first outburst. An additional 10 second delay for each one after that. If you want the freedom to breathe to your heart’s content after the ceremony you will be quiet.” She waited to see if it had anything to say and once satisfied by it’s silent sobbing, continued. “As punishment It underwent three weeks of interrogation to be sure there weren’t any other dangers in Miss Willows’s estate. Miss Willow was allowed to choose it’s fate due to the severity of the crime. She chose for It to become an example. We will begin the branding ceremony shortly.”

The woman took a marker and made four x’s on its body. One just under the solar plexus, one a bit above the belly button, one just below the belly button and one right on the mound. That last one was either a special honor or the new master would pay a lot for it. These are where the new masters would use their brands. The slave would serve as one of the records of the brand of a member of the Society. The example would have their name erased from the records of the Society and be locked inside a pillar in a special room only high level members were allowed access too. The only part of them that would ever be uncovered again were the areas the brand showed. It was only after the ceremony was over and the brand was recorded that the new master was officially recognized as a member of the Society and could use their brand to officially claim property.

Each newly inducted member was next to the slave it trained, brought here to serve as a gift to the Society. Each slave was naked aside from their collar, armbinder and ankle cuffs. Their collar and the end of the arm binder were chained to spots on the floor so they stayed next to their trainer.  I’d seen it dozens of times and had turned my attention away. I had only come to the ceremony because I enjoyed showing off my favorite slave and I knew many of the people here were jealous. I had studied the new line of masters and mistresses and decided they weren’t worth my time. I had seen their files already. Most had just bought their way in. They were all cocky and annoying. They thought the one slave they created made them an expert. Despite what these newcomers thought, most of the slaves were shoddy work. Most of them would probably have to be retrained by someone who actually knew what they were doing.

The first master was led over to the example. He was some jock. Strong and boring. His slave was trained well enough. It stayed in the position it was supposed to stay in and didn’t look up. The slave it had was apparently an ex-girlfriend. When he plunged his brand into the example the slave flinched at the sound and tried to hide the tears in it’s eyes. It was adorable and empathetic. It would probably be broken of that soon, empathy was an exhausting trait for a slave to have to be burdened with.

The second was a woman with long blond hair. Her slave was a woman with a pixie cut. Apparently the slave had been running a gang and had attacked the new master’s sibling. This new Mistress’s benefactor had helped her capture the gang leader and convert her. Many would consider this assistance as cheating, but her benefactor was another high ranking individual that an infraction like this would have been meaningless to attempt to leverage against her. Her slave was the only one of the four that was actually broken as it had been broken by someone who actually knew what she was doing. It had no reaction to the example screaming as their mistress’s brand kissed it’s flesh.

The third was a mistress that was still playing up the bratty princess aesthetic. She had enslaved a teacher she still held a grudge against from over a decade ago. She hadn’t done a good job breaking it. It was doing the best to make itself small. It was avoiding people’s gazes. Not because it knew that’s what it was supposed to do. No, it was avoiding people’s gazes because it was still embarrassed to be nude in front of a crowd. It had a sense of shame that shouldn’t exist in a slave like this. She had to wait a moment to brand the example, it had lost consciousness after the last brand. She laughed as she branded the example. I didn’t really like her, but she was the only one of the new members so far that seemed to deserve to be here. She could be taught by someone else on how to properly break a slave later.

I was getting ready to leave when the fourth was up. But then the outburst happened. The fourth was a fairly tall mistress, at least six foot before adding the extra inches from her heels. She wore a short black leather dress. Her hair was a lovely black and was long enough to reach the middle of her back. Her slave was the only one of the four to have no connection to her, she chose it at random. The slave was fairly short. It was hard to judge while she was kneeling, but I would have guessed it was around five two, maybe five three. It had gorgeous red hair, though it looked roughly cut. If I had to guess it’s owner took a knife to it’s hair. The mistress stepped forward, waiting to be handed her brand, but one of the observers of the ceremony, a high ranking member named Miss Diana, stepped forward and cut her off. 

The room went quiet except for the whimpering and crying from the example, having already been branded three times and had already been brought back to consciousness by the other observers. “Untie the slave and let it stand. I wish to talk to it.” Diana’s voice was curt and some of the lower ranked observers began undoing it’s bonds. They unchained the collar and binder from the floor then took off it’s ankle cuffs and removed it’s armbinder. The other observers were reluctant to remove it’s collar, but a stern gaze from Diana quickly remedied that. 

“You can’t fucking do that! I trained it! It doesn’t belong to you! I don’t care wh-” The woman’s tirade was cut off when Diana wrapped one hand around her neck and squeezed, cutting off her air. The woman struggled to free herself, but Diana had an iron grip. No matter how she struggled or pulled at Diana’s arm she didn’t budge an inch. She may as well have been statue holding this woman.

I knew what was coming and I was ecstatic at the prospect of getting to watch. I wanted to be more included in the moment though. I turned to my own slave, Eve. She was kneeling beside me as she knew to do when we were here. I prompted her to go get a bag out of the trunk of my car.  I watched as she hobbled off, maybe I should have unchained her ankle cuffs. But I loved seeing her determination. 

I turned my attention back to the stage. The slave was now standing, visibly uncomfortable. It was rubbing it’s arms, sore from their confinement. But Diana was ignoring her for the moment.

“Remove this one’s dress and shoes.” At Diana’s directions the other observers began removing her leather dress. The woman tried to argue, but Diana tightened her grip. I could see the focus going out of the woman’s eyes from here. Her dress was removed and the woman fell to her knees as she was fighting to stay conscious. Diana knelt down next to her. The exchange between them was quiet, but we could all hear the whispering over their microphones.

“Please… I’m sorry I was rude. Please forgive me...” The woman gasped out. 

“No you aren’t. You’re sorry for yourself because you’re learning there are consequences to your actions. You can’t bullshit me.” Diana punctuated her statement by reaching down and touching the other woman’s mound. She began struggling more and trying to Diana to let go with what little air she had left. I watched with glee as Diana let go of the woman’s neck. She looked relieved for just a moment as she could finally breathe in. Then Diana backhanded her across the face, sending her crashing into the ground.

“If you get back up I will do it again.” The woman laid in a heap, not risking getting up. She wasn’t crying outright, but you could see her heaving breaths as she laid there. The anger and defiance was already gone. She had been humiliated on stage in front of everyone that came tonight to see the new additions to the society. Her social life here was ruined before it could begin.

“You.” Diana turned her attention back to the slave, the slave stood up straight when the attention shifted back to it. 

Diana did the same thing to the slave, she reached down and touched her mound. I could see it grimace, it didn’t enjoy what was happening. But it was smart enough not to say or do anything about it. “Tell me your name.”

The slave was quiet. It knew it wasn’t supposed to have a name anymore. Diana sighed. “I am giving you permission to tell me the name that used to belong to you.”

“M-my name was L-Lily Miss.” The slave squeaked out as she was still being fondled.

“That’s a pretty name. Lily? Do you know why I stopped the ceremony?” Diana asked in a surprisingly pleasant tone.

“No Miss. I don’t know why the ceremony stopped.” To her credit she was remembering all the rules that she was supposed to have been taught. Never make eye contact with a high ranking member like Diana, that infraction alone was worth a flogging by the member wronged. It obviously wasn’t really trained, but she remembered things that were told to it.

“Tell me Lily, were you excited when you heard the example being branded?” Diana let the girl go and tipped her head upwards so she was forced to make eye contact.

“I… I’m not sure Miss.” It shifted uneasily, looking at the floor.

“Did it turn you on to watch the person who was meant to be your owner getting strangled and brutalized?”

“...Yes Miss.” It hazarded a real answer. Brave, a well trained slave would never have risked giving their own thoughts on something.

“Well I saw you look up after the first brand kissed the example. I could see you were excited. Do you think that’s normal for someone in your position?”

“I… I guess not Miss. Slaves are supposed to be toys to play with. We’re supposed to be hurt, not do the hurting.”

“That’s a fair assessment. But some people like breaking dominants. Taking a sadist and torturing them. Taking someone who thinks they should be in charge and turning them into a pathetic pet. But that isn’t why I stopped the ceremony. Had you just been a sadist being turned into a slave that would have been fine.”

She snapped her fingers and a few other observers brought her a box. I looked behind me and saw Eve returning, slowly but surely, with the bag I requested. I looked back and watched Diana open the ornate box she was handed, showing the contents to Lily.

“You see Lily, I’ve watched your supposed owner flinch at every single showing tonight. Every whip striking a slave’s skin. Every moan from those contorted in beautiful frames. But I’ve watched the new slaves as well. Unlike her, I didn’t see disgust in your eyes. Fear at being on the receiving end, that’s understandable. But I saw wonder in your eyes. And I can see that your supposed owner did an extremely poor job at training you. Please take the items I’m showing you Lily.” Diana thrust the box closer to Lily and the crowd watched her remove two things. One was a crop. The other was a cattle prod.

“Lily. I’m giving you a simple offer. I’ve read the file of all the new slaves. I know this idiot taught you all the rules you have to follow, but I also know it was too lazy and incompetent to break you into your new role. I want to see how you do if you’re given the opportunity. If you give into your instincts and make her submit. If you do, I am personally, in front of this crowd, extending you an invitation to join the Society as a member rather than a slave. This is your test Lily.”

[nifflersfancy]

Misbehavin’

[I wanted to write something but I didn't know what so I pressed shuffle on my Spotify and Misbehavin' was the first song that came on so here we go. Loosely based off of Misbehavin' by Pentatonix. Enjoy!

Here is it on AO3]

“Come on, Black. Lighten up!” A voice hollered before a hand clamped down on his shoulder. “The night is young, the bird’s are fit, the booze is flowing and everyone if having a great time! Except for you.” He tutted.

Sirius glanced over his shoulder to look at his intoxicated friend with a raised brow, shrugging the large hand off of his shoulder. “Just checking on Remus, is all.” He said innocently, as if he had only been out here for a few seconds to check his phone. When, in reality, he had been stood outside in the smoking area for almost 40 minutes now.

“He’s not even texting you back, leave the poor lad alone! And get in here, some blokes been asking about you.” Gideon winked, clearly too drunk to realise that Sirius wasn’t really up for cheating on his boyfriend.

“Come on, mate. It’s your round.” He was thankful for the interruption as James managed to steer Gideon away from him, sending Sirius a look that said that he wouldn’t help him out again so he was on his own. If anyone else wanted to harass him about how boring he was being, James wouldn’t stop them and then Sirius would actually have to join in and have a good time.

He had gone out there to send Remus a quick text to see how his night was going but had ended up scrolling through pictures on his phone whilst he waited for a response. Pictures of him and Remus together, some of just Remus and others that Remus had taken of Sirius, that Sirius had asked Remus to send him.

There was pictures of the two of them curled up in bed together, their kitten, a silver tabby named Minnie, curled up on Remus’ chest. Minnie had been affectionately named after their old headmistress, a name which James had chosen, since Lily refused to let him call their future children by the name. As a kitten, Minnie had stolen their hearts the minute they had seen her and had paid a lot extra to get her, the only female of the litter but she certainly turned out to be a handful, despite her innocent looks. They had learnt the hard way that they shouldn’t leave mugs or anything that broke if it weren’t pushed off of the side within her reach. They now mostly used plastic cutlery and plates.

Then there was pictures of them on Halloween a few months before. Remus had dressed as a werewolf, as he did every year and Sirius had dressed up as Ronnie Kray. James had, of course, dressed as Reggie. People had expected James and Sirius’ matching costumes to stop when Sirius and Remus had gotten together almost three years beforehand but they had only gotten better, now that they had Remus to help them with ideas. Whilst James and Sirius had looked cool together and Sirius and Remus looked strange together, that hadn’t stopped them from being found in a dark corner doing dirty deeds that had made Lily blush. It hadn’t stopped the redhead from taking pictures of them though and Sirius had grinned upon seeing the pictures of their flushed and guilty faces.

Next he found pictures that he had taken of Remus in the hospital during the summer, which had caused him to chuckle to himself. The two of them had rented a Tandem bike and had crashed it after they left the rental shop. Remus had broken his wrist as he had been behind Sirius so therefore, had less control. Sirius had been worried sick at the time but now it proved to be a great story to tell when entertaining guests or at dinner parties. It also had Remus flushing in that adorable way that Sirius loved. In the pictures, Remus appeared high on pain killers as he grinned dopily at the camera.

The pictures went on and on, some of them spending Christmas together with the Potter’s and with the Lupin’s. As well as their New Years Eve’s together. They had spent last year in Scotland, staying in a small cabin with Lily and James in the middle of nowhere, a few miles away from their older school. When the clock struck 12, the four of them had snuck onto the grounds of Hogwarts and shared a kiss by the Whomping Willow, where they had spent hours together when they were at school. They had stayed there for five minutes before being chased off of the grounds by Filch, the old caretaker. Just like old times.

But now, it was 10pm only a few hours until midnight and Sirius was in Paris with James and the old Gryffindor football team. They had arranged a reunion of sorts and booked rooms in a fancy 5 star hotel with a large pool and an all-inclusive deal that included alcohol. At first, Sirius had thought that it was a great idea but now it just seemed sad. Didn’t the others have more important things to be doing than having a piss-up with people from school? He knew that James would rather be at home with Lily. And whilst he had been having a good time, he would rather be at home with Remus.

Doing nothing with Remus was better than being at a party. He knew that Remus missed him as well, although he wouldn’t say it out of fear of making Sirius feel guilty. But the pictures that Remus had sent of Minnie sadly curled up on Sirius’ pillow had sealed the deal for him. He wanted to go home.

Had this happened at the beginning of their relationship, Sirius knew that Remus would have been suspicious and untrusting. They had always been fantastic friends but to trust someone as a friend and to trust someone as a boyfriend were completely different things. Sirius had always had a reputation as being a “man whore” as James had always so affectionately labelled him but Sirius had changed. For Remus. Remus was worth it and always had been. There was not a single regret in Sirius’ mind.

The only regret was coming on this damn holiday in the first place, he realised as they all stumbled through the doors of the hotel and into the lobby. James was half carrying a very drunk Giddeon whilst Fabian appeared to be attempting to eat some poor girl’s face. He could see other members of the team, most of which appeared to be with strangers and all having a good time. Except for Sirius.

We Found Love by Rihanna could be heard beginning to play at the back of the hotel, where the pool was, and Sirius was unsurprised when his mates followed the sound happily, dancing and just being generally loud. After spending all of his free time with Remus, Sirius found that he was no longer used to rowdy boys and loud music.He could feel himself grow irritated as he got closer.

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“Mate, you clearly aren’t having fun anymore.” He heard a voice from behind him say. Sirius looked up from his phone, now stopped on a picture of Remus asleep, his sunkissed from the day that they had spent at Brighton beach, and looked up at James.

“It’s not that.” Sirius offered sheepishly, not wanting James to be offended by him admitting that he was bored and didn’t want to be there.

“You just have better places to be. I know.” James spoke, surprisingly wise despite the alcohol in his system as he nodded towards Sirius’ phone, showing that he understood what he meant. James most likely would have been in a similar situation as him if he didn’t know that Lily was having a girls night out in London with her friends, most likely having more fun than they were. But Sirius knew that Remus would just be home alone. “You know, midnight is in just over an hour.”

Sirius glanced at his phone and saw that it was nearly 11pm. In Paris. It wouldn’t be New Years for over another two hours for Remus.

“There’s a flight that leaves for London in 20 minutes. A car is outside right now… I’ll bring your bags back with me… Just go.” James tutted affectionately. At Sirius’ confused look, James rolled his eyes and typed something out on his phone. A few seconds later, Sirius’ phone vibrated in his hand. Looking down at it once again, he frowned when he saw that it was an email from James. He raised a questioning brow at him but opened it.

James had bought him a ticket on the next flight to London. “My moping annoying you that much?” Sirius guessed, in what was supposed to be a casual manner but he was grinning too widely to play it cool. If there was tears in his eyes, James said nothing at it and grinned fondly, pulling him in for a tight hug.

“Go get your man. You know what to do.” James spoke, pushing a little black box into Sirius’ hand. Sirius realised that James must have gotten it from Sirius’ bag at some point. He wasn’t even angry. After another tight hug, Sirius was sprinting from the room, still wearing the suit that he had worn out, the little black box clutched tightly in his hand.

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A series of rapid knocks at the door had startled Remus from where he had been asleep on the sofa, startling him so much that he had also disturbed Minnie, who gave him a long scratch on his arm as a thank you. Hissing in pain, Remus sat up, looking around in confusion and frowning at the door. He couldn’t figure out why anyone would be at his door at this time. Everyone that he knew was out partying. Unless it was a neighbour, coming to ask to borrow something or make a noise complaint. Not that they ever had wild parties but this had been Sirius’ flat before it was theirs so sometimes parties were mistaken for being theirs.

“I’m coming.” Remus grunted, knowing that the person on the other side of the door wouldn’t hear him over the sound of their own knocking. He rubbed his eyes and opened the door, feeling his breath catch in his throat as he saw his boyfriend on the other side. On one knee. Holding a small box open to show him the gorgeous ring inside. Although not as gorgeous as the man holding it. But close.

He heard thousands of fireworks go off outside as the people in the flat above him, the source of the loud music and the cheering that Remus hadn’t realised in his sleepy state was a countdown, began yelling and cheering.

“Happy new year, Remus.” Sirius breathed softly as he stared up at him.

[lokikingofasgardslover713]

Forgotten Gods: 2

1   3   4   5   6   7   8

MASTERLIST

From this Prompt

Loki Laufeyson x Plus!Size Reader

Words: +4,450

Warnings: Some cussing, pissed-sad Loki, fighting, accusations, think that’s it.

A/N: This is where we see what causes Loki to turn against members of his family & realm. We will get back to the reader in the next chapter. Enjoy!

NOTE: Skuld (the name possibly means "debt" or "future”) is a Norn in Norse mythology. Along with Urðr (Old Norse "fate") and Verðandi (possibly "happening" or "present"), Skuld makes up a trio of Norns that are described as deciding the fates of people & gods. Skuld appears in at least two poems as a Valkyrie.

Fidgeting with his hands, Loki couldn’t look at anyone in the court, which consisted of Odin, Frigga, Thor, & the guards present when he walked to his chambers to find Y/N when she hadn’t met to accompany him to the dining hall. He could fill all eyes on him, Thor trying to get his attention in hopes of speaking to him when he noticed Loki shook. Cringing slightly when the large doors to the throne room banged open announcing that Lyall entered with his personal guard.

“Where is she,” he bellowed, starting for Loki but the Einherjar acting quickly kept him back, Loki finally looking up to show red swollen eyes.

“Calm yourself General Lyall! My son would do nothing to hurt Y/N & you know it,” Odin shouted back, stepping down the dais, Gungnir in hand, clothed in riding clothes, and stopping in front of the distraught general who glared down at the young god.

“You were right,” Lyall directed to Odin, “I should have pushed her to seek Thor as a mate, not this spineless...”

“ENOUGH! YOU WILL NOT COME INTO MY COURT AND ACCUSE MY SON OF A CRIME HE DID NOT COMMIT,” Odin roared, the entire throne room quieting.

Tuning out the bickering between the two immortals, Loki replayed the events leading up to Y/N’ disappearance thinking maybe he shouldn’t have played so cruelly with her taking the sword while they spared under the old willow sure to stay out of sight should Lyall catch them.

“Do not cheat Odinson,” Y/N had laughed drawing the dagger he had gifted her the previous week when she agreed to court him.

“I will do no such thing; besides I have a gift for you Sigyn,” he had boasted proudly stepping forward.

A short sword appearing in his hands, silver blade carved with knot work down the fuller, golden pommel that sparkled with running wolves set with ruby eyes, handle twisted with dark green and mint green leather, meant to look like their seidr intertwining.

“What is this,” Y/N breathed sheathing the dagger behind her back to cautiously step forward awe struck by the beauty of it.

“Yours,” Loki smiled holding it out & hinting her to take it.

“It is beautiful,” she breathed taking it gently looking it over, looking over her shoulder when its eloquent leather and fur scabbard appeared on her back.

“Not as beautiful as you,” Loki breathed, earning a smirk from Y/N knowing how much she hated and laughed at expressions of love but knew she would say nothing if it came from him.

Stepping closer to stand before Y/N watching her look the blade over, taking a quick step the moment, she swung it so that the blade would sing, attesting to her skill, & smiling when she looked at him pleased.

“Thank you love,” she had breathed, her pet name for Loki, one only uttered in private, making a tingle run his spine.

Even now when it seemed the room was going to Hel around him Loki couldn’t stop the shiver that traveled his spine to wake him up, he had to find her, they whoever they were couldn’t have taken her far. Y/N would have put up a fight, no a battle, something that someone even Heimdall had to notice, but sadly had seen nothing. Finally deciding it best to make it known he intended to find her even if he died in the process, it would be better than walking Asgard without his little Siggy.

“A guard. Grant me a guard to travel over the realms to find her,” Loki blurted over the ruckus, it was evident he had joined the conversation & interrupted an argument that had transpired between Thor & Lyall.

All attention turning to the young prince who realized Thor was directly to his left, between him & Lyall who glared at him. Lyall gasping like a fish, eyes filled with hate & face going red the moment he prepared to curse Loki once more.

“No Loki! I forbid it,” Odin snapped, attention turning the old god king wearing battle armor that he wasn’t earlier.

“Whoever has taken Y/N is after one of you & I can’t allow that, I will go with the….,” Odin began but Loki started forward, ignoring Lyall and Thor.

Frigga stepping forward to stop her distraught son, even drawing a blade to push Lyall back & daring him to touch Loki who was blind to what was happening around him.

“Please, don’t make me sit here like a helpless child! Let me help,” Loki pleaded, tears threatening to spill.

“No Loki, you’ve helped enough, leave me to deal with it,” Odin spoke under his breath at his youngest, making him draw away as if being struck through the heart with an arrow.

The recoil from Odin had Frigga & Thor both starting for Loki, hoping to comfort him, but Lyall had other plans. The old grey headed god sprung for Loki, the younger god not having the want to too protect himself and welcoming death that the old god offered.

“I trusted you with my last piece of Skuld,” Lyall bellowed, gauntlet claws biting into the young man’s throat & Loki doing nothing to stop them from cutting into his flesh.

“Y/N loved you! How could you let someone take her! Maybe Thor would have been a better suitor! At least he would have protected her,” the old man spat, saliva hitting Loki in the face while refusing to fight. Leaving it to the guards who were finally able to pull him off, Odin’ bellowing to stop him, followed by others became back ground noise.

The last accusation cutting deeply into his dying soul, the sound of thunder sounding in the distance to hint at Thor’ anger of the situation. The guards having pulled Lyall off while Thor rushed forward to get Loki to his feet attempting to comfort his younger brother only to be attacked by Loki with shouts of, “where were you!”

“Where were you,” Loki yelled once more in Thor’ face, Lyall’ words still eating at him the old god drug away & the remaining guard trying to pull the two brothers apart, Thor preparing to swing Mjolnir.

The soft yet firm hand of Frigga grabbing Loki to pull him away from Thor the queen mother placing herself between the two sternly, glaring the enter court down that had gone quiet. Her younger son’ grip on her forearm light so not to hurt her, while her oldest immediately dropped the war hammer & nodded to his mother in apology. Frigga turning to Loki, a sad smile on her face, the usual liveliness of her eyes gone & replaced with despair.

“To your chambers. Now,” Frigga ordered, nodding to Loki to go of his own volition, releasing her arm leaving without a word, sure to keep his head down while passing the struggling & cursing Lyall.

The walk down the corridor to his chamber felt like a death march, all eyes on him, pitying him like a child, he hated it, he needed to find Y/N so that he could walk with her proudly on his arm, showing her all the love & attention she was worthy of. Not to mention all the love he needed from her to endure this situation. Having reached his doors sooner than expected, looking up to them dumbfounded pondering on how they worked.

The yelling at the opposite end drawing his attention from the direction he had come, they were all in the throne room. Heimdall was watching the Bifrost, with no word of not allowing Loki to leave, surely no one had made that command yet, or at least hoped he hadn’t seen it.

All he had to do was think & he was standing in the golden room of the Bifrost, turning to his left to see Heimdall, looking back at him, even his suit of armor & eyes looked dim.

“I'm sorry my prince, but the queen has told me you are not to leave Asgard,” the tall god spoke, holding tightly to his sword that rested on the floor & looking down at him.

“Please, you must! I can’t sit in my chambers & do nothing,” Loki stepped forward & began to plead, but Heimdall shook his head in an effort to drive the point home.

“I am truly sorry,” Heimdall began, stepping down from the podium & starting towards Loki.

“You should be,” the young prince deadpanned, causing the taller older god to stop in his tracks knowing exactly why he said it.

“Prince Loki….,” Heimdall began once more, but watching darkness come to the young god’ features, something that he hadn’t seen the like of since Hela.

“You see all! Do you not!? Yet you didn’t see who took her! My Siggy! My Y/N! She was mine! And now some dark force has taken her & no one will allow me to look for her,” Loki snarled, evident he wasn’t done, a lone tear slipping.

“Everyone expects me to wait like a good boy! To obey like Thor would, to not question them & stay put! But I cannot! SO, if you refuse to help me get through the realms then I will find another way,” Loki snarled, turning quickly to storm out of the room.

“The only other way off of Asgard is dark magic prince! Is that a price you are willing to pay,” Heimdall shouted after him, the young god spinning in the doorway, the older god watching the darkness surface once more before answering.

“For Y/N? I would never question it,” he spoke eerily calm, turning without another thought to vanish to his chamber.

Thankfully that day, everyone seen fit to leave Loki in his room, standing in the doorway to his baths, holding to the short sword & running his fingers delicately along the blade. He had ventured to Nidavellir himself to speak with the hateful dwarves about having the weapon made, & what a Hel of a trip that was. Vowing to only go back if Y/N wished it or accompanied him, she knew how to handle the heathen dwarves, though there weren’t many of them left.

Fresh grass, fresh as if being crushed under a horses hoof, making him look out the window in the bath, out to the field & the old willow.

“Loki Odinson are you following me,” a young voice asked, closing his eyes to see a very young, Y/N halting her horse when she realized he trotted after her.

An even younger man than he was now, ridding after the little Y/H/C headed girl that had been brought to the palace after her mothers death to be taught by Frigga & raised there because her father was the general over Asgard’ armies. Having been quartered a corridor over from his very own.

“I am not, Y/N Lyallsdóttir,” he deadpanned, halting his mount next to hers, noting how the young girl commanded control over the massive animal that was bigger than his own.

“I happen to be ridding in this direction & thought that you would like some company,” Loki smiled, nudging his mount forward & her own following without prompting.

The two riding in silence until Loki found his voice to ask how she liked staying in the palace & scolding himself for how stupid the question sounded when he voiced it.

“It is OK, but I prefer the hillside, a lot of open areas & you don’t fill like everyone is crowded around you,” the little goddess responded looking at him while they rode side by side though the open meadow, riding towards the water’s edge.

“You lived in a fort, how is that better,” Loki asked, scrunching his nose up at the idea of living in close proximity with that many warriors, but immediately regretted it.

“I was a fortress Odinson, not a fort, Norns if you are going to insult someone at least do it appropriately,” she snapped, kicking her mount into a trot.

Loki you idiot he scolded himself, you just run her off, you need to do something.

“WAIT! Y/N! WAIT,” he shouted, kicking his horse harder than he meant causing him to rear slightly before taking off.

“Wait, I'm sorry, I meant nothing by it,” he immediately began to apologize & grovel next to her.

“As you should be,” Y/N spoke hatefully, but when turning to look at Loki with tears welling.

“I'm sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you, please let me make it up to you, don’t cry,” he pleaded thinking of the ass chewing he would get from his mother not to mention her father.

“Don’t flatter yourself Odinson, there not for you,” she snapped, looking down at the pendant around her neck, the symbol of the fates that resided over gods & mortals.

“That belonged to your mother,” Loki questioned, Y/N finally meeting his gaze with a quiet sniffle tears still rimming her eyes & shaking her head yes.

“I’ll leave give you some time…,” he began, pulling on the reigns to pull the horse’ head to turn & leave.

“Stay,” came a small voice behind him, halting the animal & backing it up next to her.

Y/N looked lost to him & far from the confident girl that sat attentive with he & Frigga during their lessons. That was when Thor wasn’t acting up, Frigga eventually having enough & running him off.

“How about we take a seat under the willow across the water,” Loki hinted to the large willow that branches touched the ground & over looked the palace.

Nodding her head yes, Y/N hinted for him to lead the way nudging her horse to follow through the water that reached up to the animals chest but was easy travel. Once at the tree he made sure to dismount first to hold her horse, noting how large the animal was & leaving him pondering how she got on since her head barely reached the beast’ shoulder. Hinting for her to follow under the willow, knowing the horses wouldn’t go far & surprising her by conjuring pillows to sit on.

He had to find her, there was no question to it, & if it was to be dark magic then he would seek it out & pay what ever the price would be to assure Y/N was safe, that she was in his arms one last time.

Day in, day out, Loki stayed locked in his chambers, so everyone thought, truthfully he was busying himself with finding ways to the other realms. Refusing to eat, refusing company & refusing to speak with even Frigga. Thor venturing into speak with Loki, actually breaking the door with Mjolnir, and in no time the two where snarling at each other’s throats like blood thirsty wolves.

“Stop this! No good can come from this,” Thor bellowed, knocking the stacks of spell books & the like over with the hammer, causing Loki to launch himself at Thor.

He didn’t care, didn’t care that Thor was his brother, his blood, he had no right to tell him what price he should pay to find Y/N, his Y/N. Choking the bigger god to the marble, a dagger to his throat, threatening to spill blood, a hammer coming to hand, all paused by the loud voice of their mother echoing through the chamber and guards rushing in but not daring to touch the princes.

“STOP THIS NOW,” Frigga ordered, Loki looking to his mother for the first time in a week, her hair didn’t hold the same luster, her eyes looked red, almost lifeless, & her usually beautiful elegant clothing replaced with drab dark colors.

“I…,” Loki stammered, looking down to Thor immediately drawing the dagger away in disgust, pushing to his feet & looking between the two as if he was appalled by what was happening.

It had felt as if he was watching the battle with his brother from the sidelines, not in control of his own body, like a man possessed. Trying to calm himself after realizing what he had almost done, looking to Thor who had gotten to his feet & standing with their mother. Their mother who had noticed all the books, & more notably the dark grimoire that sat on a stand obvious it was being read.

Frigga lost her breath the moment she spotted the dark book, immediately pondering how he came across the damned thing, glaring at Loki before turning to the guard.

“Everyone out,” Frigga ordered, the guard looking at her as if they didn’t understand what she said.

“OUT! ALL OF YOU but for Loki,” she shouted, unable to keep her temper in check.

Patiently she waited for the room to clear of all but her youngest son, the door to room clicking shut sounding like a nail in a coffin being drove home. Stalking to the book, Frigga shut it with a slam, grabbing it in both hands & throwing it to the floor to set it ablaze with seidr to destroy it.

“NO, I found a way,” Loki shouted, starting towards her, the deathly glare she shot him told him it was best he didn’t stop her.

“Dark magic is not the answer,” Frigga spoke calmly, not looking away from the burning grimoire to make sure it was destroyed.

“I will not,” Frigga began, finally looking up from the now bare floor to Loki with concern, “loose two children to save one. Is that understood?”

Loki looked to his mother in understanding, she loved Y/N, she was her favorite & most skilled student. He had honestly never seen his mother happier than the day the two announced that they were to court & eventually marry. Hel, even Odin father was pleased that Y/N picked him over Thor, Lyall was overjoyed.

“I have to help, I have to look for her, her safety was my responsibility & no one else. Please, talk to father, make him….,” Loki began, Frigga stepping forward to pull him to her to hold tight.

“Your father has spoken, have you not heard the arguing that goes on in our chambers at night,” Frigga spoke, pushing Loki back to look into red swollen eyes that spoke of tears & no rest.

“I argue with him every chance I get my precious son, so much so that he has done all possible to make sure that neither you nor your brother are able to leave the palace without someone knowing, as well as myself,” Frigga explained taking his head in her hands, noting his gaunt appearance, & dark circles.

“How could no one not find something? I know she would have put up a fight,” Loki began, trying to stop the tears, but it seemed he couldn’t hold them back any longer, burying his head into Frigga’ shoulder.

Shushing the young prince, all Frigga could do was hold him tight, the young god clinging to her to keep him from doing something that could doom him & Y/N. Collapsing with him to the floor, allowing him to cry it out, obvious that it was something he hadn’t done in a while.

“We will, it will take time,” Frigga spoke up, Loki finally pushing back to look at her, using his own seidr to dry the tears.

“What if she doesn’t have time,” Loki spoke quietly, getting to his feet & helping his mother up so that they could sit on the bed.

Not sure what to say herself, Frigga could only look at him in pain as if she hadn’t allowed herself to think the inevitable, taking Loki’ hands in her own, knowing the young prince looked to her for comfort.

“Y/N will make time,” Frigga reassured pushing his hair behind his ear, having refused to cut it since he first met Y/N for whatever the reason was, having given up on asking him to do so.

“I hope so,” he breathed, looking down at their hands trying to calm his thoughts & keep from thinking the worse.

“Come with me, to my chambers, we will have supper there,” Frigga began to bargain, but she knew he was wise to what she was doing, obvious she wasn’t taking no as an answer, an excuse to get him out to rid the room of all grimoires & the like.

Nodding his head in agreement, Loki allowed his mother to pull him to his feet to lead him out of his chamber & down the corridor to hers. Glad that the halls where devoid of passers by that would gawk & pity the heart broken prince. Yes, he heard their whispers, heard the ones in the courtyard & the ones who frequented by when he would sneak into the mead stores to take what he wanted. He wasn’t daft, he knew, he knew they pitied him, pitied him because Y/N seemed to be the only other that loved the young god, except for his mother. Y/N was the only one who showed him attention while others flocked to Thor & only Y/N tolerated his cruel pranks.

Pacing, that seemed to be all the young god of mischief was capable of the last while, no word, no leads, no reprieve from the awful dreams he had when he attempted sleep. Y/N father, Lyall, the words the old god had spat in his face echoing through his mind along with that day’s events on constant repeat.

Lyall had sprung for Loki, the young god remembering that he did nothing to stop him, welcoming the death he promised.

“I trusted you with my last piece of Skuld! Y/N loved you! How could you let someone take her! Maybe Thor would have been a better suitor! At least he would have protected her, I should have pushed her to seek Thor as a mate, not this spineless....” Lyall’ words cut through his mind like a dull blade.

The last accusation cutting deeply into his dying soul, the sound of thunder sounding in the distance but not enough to draw his attention away from the violent scene that continued to play in his mind. The guards having pulled Lyall off while Thor rushed forward to get him to his feet & attempted to comfort Loki only to be sat on by his own brother with shouts of, “where were you!”

The storm picking up, Loki beginning to step into the torrent of rain and deafening thunder the moment the chamber doors opened. Spinning in hopes of good news, his mother entering in, still clothed in dark dress, no, no good news, Frigga wouldn’t dress so dreary of it was good news.

“No news,” Frigga began, stepping closer to her youngest, reaching out to wrap him in a loving embrace.

Loki pushed away shortly after allowing her the hug, not wanting the comfort of another like he needed, Frigga letting him go to step back so that they can talk.

“How can Heimdall not see her,” Loki spoke trying to hold back a flood of tears, evident by the red rimmed eyes, the green irises burning brightly in the sea of red sclera, even though he tried to hide it with seidr.

“Whatever took Y/N, I don’t understand it, none of us can trace it let alone find it. I'm sorry my precious boy,” Frigga quietly admitted, Loki realizing she was trying to swallow around the lump in her throat.

“Mine, & I belonged to her, my little Siggy, she, she...,” Loki stammered, a loss for words, “maybe it would have been better it was Thor….”

“NO! Y/N only loves you, not Thor, you Loki,” Frigga scolded, obvious she wasn’t putting up with Loki’ pity party today.

“You need to go speak with your brother, he’s upset, more so than usual,” Frigga commented hinting to the raging storm.

“Why? So, the guards can pull us apart again?”

“No, because he is ready to go search for Y/N throughout the realms, so you will not hate him for what Lyall said,” Frigga admitted giving him a knowing look that he didn’t hate his brother for the words spoken.

“I don't...,” Loki began, but paused at the look Frigga gave him.

“I don't, I don’t hate him or blame him for it in anyway, besides it was her father who was happy, overjoyed at the fact that she had taken up with me, and did he not come to you and father to discuss our courtship? How could he be so quick...,” Loki began reasoning with mostly himself while he looked to his mother.

“Lyall is upset, it wasn’t that long ago that he lost Y/N mother Skuld, many say things they do not mean,” Frigga explained.

“Maybe so but it doesn’t lessen the bite of his words or make them any less damaging,” Loki finished, thunder sounding loudly and beginning to pick up before a knock sounded & the door opened.

Thor entered, looking like a scolded child & came to stand with them glancing to Loki, asking for forgiveness.

“I have planned to venture to Alfheim, please come with me brother,” Thor begged, obvious he was upset still, even his eyes where rimmed red, knowing he cared for Y/N like a little sister, one that could kick his ass.

“Alfheim has already been searched, & why would father allow us to go? Did he not forbid it,” Loki began, watching the resolve in his brothers eyes falter, the young blonde god’ gaze shooting to their mother & back to his brother.

“Please brother,” Thor continued, this time sounding heart broken, “I want to find her as much as you do, come with me.”

“We haven’t searched Midgard, why aren’t we searching…,” Loki began hotly.

Looking down his nose at Thor, Loki clasped his hands behind his back, stepping away from the hand Thor extended in friendship.

“Go with your brother Loki. It is doing you no good to pace this room like a caged animal, go with him, now,” Frigg ordered, catching Loki off guard who looked at Thor who didn’t seem taken aback at their mothers outburst realizing there was more to what was being said.

“Fine,” Loki sighed, brushing past Thor to the chamber doors pausing to turn and glare at his older brother.

“Well,” Loki snapped, hinting at the door, the pissed expression not leaving his features.

“Do we head to the Bifrost or not,” Loki huffed, aggravated that no one seemed to take it seriously & starting towards the only other two in the room.

“You two be back by night fall,” Frigga spoke, the moment Loki came close the two brothers where engulfed in blue gold light.

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[kevoreally]

#BuffyAt20 - S03E08 “Lover’s Walk”

> OKay, first thing’s first: is it Lovers or Lover’s? Wikipedia has the first one, Hulu has the second. Very confusing.

> Another fake-out opener where someone is being hyperbolic about the world ending but it’s just grades or something.

> Willow got a 740 verbal on her SATs. Like, I think she’s being too hard on herself, but I get not feeling academically fulfilled by that. I think I got 700? I don’t remember. My math sucked, that’s for sure.

> That Cletus the Slack-Jawed Yokel reference has endured the test of time.

> What is Xander’s score if it’s close to 740? We joke about his grades a lot but like. Get serious, son.

> Willow, that top is so loud.

> Omigod, I’m looking forward to going back to pretending Xillow never happened soon.

> Cordelia testing well is good continuity with “Band Candy.” And I loved them following up on SAT scores. I think these might have come out a little quick, but it’s fine.

> “That was my sarcastic voice.” “Y’know, it sounds a lot like your regular voice.” “I’ve been told that.” I feel you, Oz.

> Cordelia’s terror at the idea of double dating IS A DANGER SIGN, XANDER.

> I have Buffy’s SAT score memorized: “1430, Buffy, you kicked ass!” (A friend got the same score on her first take.)

> “Now you can leave and never come back.” I actually love Cordy here, a rarity for me lately.

> Pretty sure the shot of Spike crashing into the Sunnydale sign is just a retouched copy of the one from Season 2. Not a problem, just funny.

> I wasn’t sure I had the energy to do my #BuffyAt20 right now but this theme song is giving me life.

> I don’t get Spike’s obsession with Sinatra in this episode but sure.

> Oh man, remember the Factory? It’s a slot on my Buffy Monopoly board.

> Do we feel the flashback to when Dru left Spike that we get in Season 3 keeps in line with what we’re presented here? Dru accusing him of loving Buffy as far back as now? Hm.

> Literally the episode where Cordelia and Xander break up is the episode where it most seems like they’re a happy couple. And even then, they’re horrible to each other half the time. Sigh.

> Oz giving Willow the PEZ Witch is still one of the best things ever. I really wanted a wolf PEZ for Oz.

> Okay, a friend and I recently discussed a fan poll where people voted on their favorite mate for Willow and it made me uncomfortable that Oz was winning. But… I get it.

> There’s a lot of focus on Giles packing in this scene.

> Ooh! Worth noting: the guy who wrote this episode wrote three of my favorite #Daria episodes! He’ll also later write “The Zeppo.”

> This episode laid a lot of interesting potential for Buffy to be able to leave Sunnydale. Not forever, but, even if just for college. It was interesting.

> I wish I could make Buffy Now see how much Giles treated Seventeen Buffy like an adult over this Angel situation. He could’ve been SUUUCH a prick. And their relationship got really awkward for a while there, and I don’t think Buffy was entirely fair to him. Or probably him to her too. Fathers and daughters, man.

> I spent a whole dumb Xillow scene typing that last one. Not sorry.

> I’ve said it before but it’s wild that Buffy’s house never changes once in 7 seasons. The cinematography changes so much that it feels like a different house.

> How does Angel not hear, or even sense, Spike right outside the Mansion? Still recovering from Hell, I guess? Coz otherwise, wtf?

> I do love Spike waking up on fire.

> What happened to Spike’s car between Seasons 3 and 4 anyway? Where’s that story?

> “This is just too much.” Some real gentle language there, Spike.

> The Magic Box is, like, the same SHAPE we see in Season 5. But the layout isn’t totally right. And the back hasn’t been blown out yet. The storefront is the same. They moved the register away from the door. Hmm.

> Ooh, that Spike shot of grabbing the shop owner becomes his credits shot.

> Hey! It’s the Mayor! I forgot he’s in this one. And Allan! He’s pretty cute, tbh.

> “Boats did have canons. And a loose one would cause it to rock.” Lol.

> The way that the Mayor celebrates sinking that putt makes me wonder if he hadn’t been expecting it, haha.

> Where is Angel getting hair gel from in the Mansion? How is this a priority? Then again: same question at Derek Hale sleeping in a train yard.

> I’m not loving the dramatic beat when Angel tells Buffy she should leave. Like. Buff. Shouldn’t you? Sigh.

> Willow is trying to do magic on Xander without his consent. That’s actually an interesting portent for Season 6.

> Xander and Willow, like, really try and hold their own against Spike here. Mad respect.

> Alyson Hannigan shows such amazing vulnerability in the scenes with James Marsters, it’s bonkers. And then how it flips on a dime to be comedic. Wild chemistry, those two.

> OOOH, Dru accused Spike of going soft for teaming up with Buffy, eh? Interesting…

> HA! The “chaos demon, all slime and antlers” line was a favorite among fans, so we loved finally seeing him in Season 5.

> “I haven’t had a woman in weeks.” Blech. “Well, unless you count that shopkeeper.” Double blech.

> “I’m not a real witch, you know.” Heh.

> It. Is. SO. Clever. That Willow sends Spike to Buffy’s house. Holy. Shit.

> You know who else is a good version of Cordelia Chase? Valencia from Crazy Ex-Girlfriend. Becomes a good person in, like, half the time it’s taking Cordy…

> Ugh, I hate coincidence moments like that. Buffy heard Spike on the phone when her mom happened to call? Sigh.

> YAAS, the Joyce/Spike bond! We needed more of this!

> Joyce Summer is Top 5 TV Mom material.

> “You get out of this house or I will stake you myself.” GEDDIT, JOYCE!

> Lol, remember how Buffy is going to start sleeping with Spike? This show, man.

> Spike just called Angel a “poof.” Nice.

> “What if they were kidnapped by Colombian drug lords?” CORDELIA. STOP.

> Oz smelling Willow is… interesting.

> Buffy is so eager to kill Spike.

> Did Buffy rip off Sookie Stackhouse with this love triangle or vice versa? Angel being Bill, Spike being Eric. Hm.

> Buffy always made kicking in doors look so cool.

> What exactly are we supposed to make of Spike’s observation about Buffy and Angel being in love here? I mean, he’s right. But. Like. What, they needed someone else to tell them?

> “I won, right? Kicked his ass?” “You were real brave. Do you need to barf.” Classy.

> “Give me a third option.” “He’s so drunk he forgets about us and we starve to death.” HA.

> AAAAAnd they kiss, aaaand Oz and Cordy show up, aaaand it’s horrible. AAAAND Oz is the only one who composes himself maturely, like always.

> Cordelia getting skewered was… so weird.

> They’re having this vampire fight, like, in the middle of downtown Sunnydale right now. I get that it’s probably 3am or something but omigod.

> Oh yeah, the storefront is definitely the same a when it’s the Magic Box.

> Seeing Buffy, Angel, and Spike standing side-by-side is a hoot.

> The “let’s give baby a taste” stuff Spike does is… No.

“ “Baby like his supper?” No. No he doesn’t.

> The table Spike stakes this guy on is, like, probably the same table he and Anya bang on in Season 6, haha.

> The holy water bombs are so cool. Why don’t they use holy water more often?

> The resolution of this Spike story is… so Spike. You know, we probably would’ve never seen him again if they didn’t love James Marsters SOOO much.

> Remember when they made us think Cordelia died? Like, right after she found of Xander cheated on her? This story was, like, one of the lowest points of the show. I’m sorry but it was. I remember laughing out loud when we found out Cordy wasn’t dead. That’s not something you wanna get a laugh on.

> What was the point of this story arc, though? “Don’t cheat or someone could die?” This is a ‘Blood on the Pavement’ type parable here. Way more Dawson’s Creek than Buffy The Vampire Slayer.

> I remember thinking Cordelia was going to be blind, because of the “I can’t see you” thing. I don’t know how being skewered would blind her.

> Okay, CAN WE TALK about the nailed-up broken sheets of wood at the Mansion entrance? It is the weirdest thing, it looks like a child’s tree fort.

> Buffy, if you think you’re fooling Giles and your friends into believing you don’t want Angel, you are sorely mistaken.

> Angel, be a big boy, let the seventeen year old girl go.

> She has to step through his weird cobbled-together wooden doorway! And it’s gone, like, after this episode! Wtf!

> This maudlin montage of all the characters being despondent was, like, the biggest bummer. Why do I love Season 3 so much?? This is such a downbeat point for the show.

> And there’s Spike riding off into the sunset. See you in a year, William.

[whatdoyouthinkmyjobis]

Hunters on the Hellmouth

masterlist

first chapter

previous chapter

AN: Here’s a cheat sheet for keeping track of the Potentials.

Chapter 36: Blame

Dean woke up with a kink in his shoulder and a tightness in his lower back that made him feel older than his thirty-two years. In her flurry of activity after Cloé’s suicide, Buffy had worked the Potentials -- and by extension him -- all day. The goal had been for the girls to try to pin larger targets -- him, Sam or Spike. Many of the girls distrusted their bodies, unaware of how to use momentum and weight to their advantage. To Buffy’s disappointment, only half a dozen girls were able to regularly take the men down after three exhausting hours.

After the sparring session, Buffy had surprised Dean by asking him to stay the night, something he hadn’t done in weeks. They spent the night alternating between holding each other and arguing. She was so tied up in knots, the stress once sent her running to the bathroom.

“Food poisoning?’ he’d asked, wearily holding back her hair as she leaned against the toilet.

“No, it’s...God, I’m so stressed.”

“Girly, you can’t wear yourself down like this. I can hear that frog in your throat. How’re you gonna yell at people without a voice?”

He’d hoped to make her laugh, but even in the dim light he could see tears welling in her eyes. “I have to yell. There are things, things I have to do.”

“And you’re great at all of them.” Dean scooped her up in his arms and carried her back to bed. Curled around her, he softly sang until she fell asleep.

Before dawn, Dean stumbled to the kitchen, where the girl who’d discovered Cloé was eating pickles and staring out the window. “See anything nasty out there?” he asked as he filled the coffee pot.

The girl shrugged.

“You eat that for breakfast every morning?” he asked, pointing at her bowl of rice and pickles.

“In America.”

“Well, sweetheart, I’m gonna make you some real American breakfast. Ever had pancakes?”

She shook her head, her bangs falling into her eyes.

“It’s literally cake for breakfast.”

She stuck out her tongue in disgust.

Wook was quiet, but then she’d been quiet before finding a body. She was a lost-in-thought, hiding-behind-her-bangs, one-dark-lipstick-short-of-troubled kind of girl. Dean wasn’t sure how discovering Cloé’s cold body had effected Wook, but he couldn’t go wrong with kindness.

“Come on! What’s not to like?” he asked with a big smile. “Plus bacon, which is like meat candy.”

“Gross.”

“Pickles?” He raised one judgemental eyebrow.

The batter was mixed by the time five Potentials -- Sophia, Maya, Molly, and one of the new arrivals -- stumbled in, rubbing the sleep from their eyes.

“Morning, handsome. Whatcha’ makin’?” asked the new one. Blonde curls. Freckles. Margo? She’d arrived only days before the massacre and seemed to be in complete denial that anything horrible had happened. She was older than most of the girls and possibly more experienced in burying the bullshit.

“Pancakes for the pickle-eater.” He gestured at Wook who waved at them with her spoon.

“Any for us?” asked Molly, quietly. Dean’s heart broke whenever he saw her tugging on her sleeves to cover her burned arms. She’d arrived with innocent, wide-eyed excitement.

Dean lifted the giant bowl of batter beside him. “Want some Mickey Mouse ones, Pigtails?”

For a split second, she grinned. She always grinned when he called her Pigtails.

But Molly wasn’t the only shell shocked girl. Sophia and Maya leaned into the counter as if they needed support. Sophia had big blue eyes that always looked like she was on the verge of tears. She was one of the three survivors of a Bringer attack in Europe where her Watcher had been murdered in front of her.

Grace came in, waving sleepily at the girls. She hugged Sophia, and they whispered. Then Grace gave Wook’s shoulder a quick squeeze. “Dean, no coffee?” she asked with a small smile as she filled the pot with water. “I thought that was why you stayed here, no? To make food?”

“Haha.” But he smiled anyway. Grace -- kind, serene, and take-no-shit all at once -- was one of his favorites.

“Grace, you’re a saint,” said Margo, tumbling off of her stool in pursuit of coffee.

Maya, her dark hair slipping out of her ponytail, looked like she hadn’t slept in days. For every girl like Molly who had arrived viewing the Summers’ house as an adventure camp, there was a girl like Maya who was not happy to leave her life behind. Maya was one of those girls who had chosen her college before she hit puberty. She wanted to change the world, she’d confessed, by becoming Prime Minister of the United Kingdom. She loved order and process and plans, not the instinct and improvisation required of a Slayer.

Dean piled pancakes high on a platter as fast as the girls ate them. After so much bad news, hunger was a good sign.

Maya reminded Dean of Sam -- driven, smart, angry. Over a month ago, when they’d sat down with Buffy, Giles and Xander to decide which girls were moving where, Dean had asked for Maya. Buffy had disagreed, pointing to Sam’s fluency in Spanish and the translators on their phones as reason enough to keep a native English speaker at her place. They’d argued. He’d dropped it.

Betje shuffled into the kitchen, her short blue hair pointing in all directions, mascara smudged under her eyes. Giles, already dressed, wasn’t too far behind.

Betje, a survivor of the train massacre with Sophia, glanced at the pancakes before pouring herself some black coffee. After a couple sips, she pulled out a cigarette.

“Oi, Betje, do that outside or Buffy will kill ya!” said Molly.

Betje raised one eyebrow and looked outside. They didn’t really patrol much any more. The city was half empty, and Lucifer sent vampires every night to spy on the house. Their training squads never needed to go far for a kill. But the sky was getting light. At this hour, any vamps still outside would be in a hurry to get away before the sun broke over the horizon.

Betje pushed the cigarette back in the pack and grabbed a sweater hanging by the back door.

Giles looked up from his mug. “Betje, we can’t be too careful right now.”

She picked up a stake from a crock on the counter. “Anyone else feel like a morning kill?”

Grace rolled her eyes. “I will go with you for practice. Not so you can smoke.”

Betje shrugged and went out into the dim light. Dean and Giles watched the girls from the window, but nothing came for them before the sun appeared. The girls moved into its beam.

“Where did she hide the aspirin?” asked Maya. After Cloé’s suicide, Buffy had locked all the medicine in Willow’s bedroom before working the girls all day until they collapsed around sunset.

“I can get you some in a bit,” Dean offered.

The girl nodded and poked at the pancake on her plate. After a minute, Maya muttered, “Cloé, Gabi, Jabulela, Lys, Naomi.”

“Don’t forget Annabelle and Astrid,” said Molly, who’d seen what remained of both girls.

“And all the girls who didn’t get this far,” said Sophia, rubbing a chill off her arms.

Tears welled up in Maya’s dark eyes. “I can’t even mourn them.” Her voice was a raw wound. “I knew about the vampires and the stupid crosses and holy water. I knew The First was out there looking for us, but I wasn’t prepared for some bullshit Christian angel to hunt us down.”

Sophia laid a hand on Maya’s shoulder, but the girl batted it away, her face twisted with rage. “I don’t want your comfort! Don’t you see? He’s taking everything. Even my Gods.”

“Let’s not jump to any hasty conclusions,” Giles encouraged.

“Lucifer being real doesn’t mean your gods aren’t,” Dean said. “Gods run on worship, so maybe your gods are livin’ the high life in places they’re most worshiped?”

“How would you know?” Maya asked in a hoarse sob.

Years ago, Dean had scoffed at his baby brother for praying, for believing in anything other than what they could see. By the time Sam met angels, he was crushed. Something about watching the faith drain from Sam -- the same look Maya had now -- stirred up his own latent desire for something bigger than himself. For something holy. “What religion are you?”

“Hindu.” She took a tissue someone handed her and blew her nose. “I’m not even a good Hindu, but it still means something to me. It’s part of me and my parents. It goes back and back connecting me to my whole family. Literally. My mum even tells me I’m the reincarnation of her aunt.”

Dean nodded. “‘K, so I been doing this since I was a kid. Monster bait. Shooting ghosts. Whole nine. Met a few gods in my time too.”

“Bullshit!” declared Margo.

Sophia held her cross to her chest and nearly stopped breathing.

“Sure as shit,” Dean said.

“Like Jesus an’ Buddha an’ stuff?” asked Pigtails.

“Buddhists don’t worship Buddha,” Maya clarified.

Dean resumed making pancakes. “No big fish. These were old European pagan gods. Back in the day, fields of people would be sacrificed to them. Now, they’re hobblin’ along and tricking people to survive. They were weak enough, Sam an’ I could take ‘em.”

The girls gazed at him with a spectrum of skepticism and awe. Giles tried to hide his eye roll behind his coffee mug.

But Maya wasn’t reassured. “Are you telling me you want to kill Kali, because I don’t see that happening.”

“I believe what Dean is trying to say,” Giles interjected, “is that your worship gives your gods strength. You speak their names. You give them offerings. As such, Kali would be more likely to be found near one of her temples rather than in, say, rural Indiana.”

Maya shook her head. “That makes Kali sound so small, so needy. I cannot keep her alive.”

“Does that mean we’re fighting Lucifer because of some damn Satanists?” asked Margo around a big bite of pancake, “‘Cause I always thought that was Halloween nonsense,”

Dean shrugged and added four more pancakes to the platter on the island. “Above my pay grade. I know he ain’t hurtin’ for lackeys.”

Sophia sighed heavily and stared at the food. “God abandoned us to the Devil. How can we fight him if we keep losing girls?” Hope drained from her watery eyes. Wook patted her back.

For a moment, Dean toyed with telling them everything was going to be alright. They’d hit rock bottom, and were on their way up. No more deaths. No more tears. But he didn’t. “Listen, this whole Slayer thing is bullshit. One girl against all the evil in the world is a stacked deck, and I’m sorry fate or destiny or whatever dragged you into this. But just ‘cause the deck is stacked against you doesn’t mean you fold. Now’s when you show those evil sons a bitches what you’re made of, and I plan to go down swingin’.”

“Easy for you to say,” said Maya roughly pushing away from the island. “You’re old. You’ve lived your life. I’m only seventeen!” She dashed into the backyard, Giles on her heels.

Dean turned off the stove and leaned against the counter watching as Maya buckled to her knees, sobbing. Turning back to the breakfast crew, equally engrossed in Maya’s despair, he explained, “Both of my parents were murdered by a demon that worshipped Lucifer. Good people who helped raise me an’ my brother were killed by another one, Meg. Couple months before we moved here, we were going after Lucifer when Meg comes outta nowhere, kills a couple friends of ours, Jo and Ellen. Now, I have two options. I can hide. Hope they can’t find me. Maybe grow old with the ghosts of the dead keeping me up at night. Or I can load for bear and go after it. Second option does better by the dead.”

There was a clamor of feet down the stairs and yelling in the living room.

“Up! Up! Up! Get dressed! We’re going for a run!” Loud groans of protest followed Buffy into the kitchen. “What are you doing?” she asked with fury, as if she’d caught him making out with a mermaid.

“Breakfast,” said Margo, taking another bite.

“You all need to be dressed and in the front yard in five minutes.” Buffy’s voice was icy.

Other than dirty looks and one sigh, the girls shuffled out.

Her burning gaze settled on Dean. “What the hell, Dean?! Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“Uh, because you were up all night?” -- yelling at me.

“That doesn’t matter! The Slayer doesn’t need as much sleep as everyone else, and what is that?” she asked, pointing at a plate of fresh pancakes.

“What does it look like? It’s breakfast? You want the kids to die from exhaustion first or starvation?”

She rubbed her temples and spoke in the low, measured voice of adult to irritating child. “Go to Xander’s. Get the girls packed and moved back here. Call Sam. Tell him the same. The neighbors all left, so we might as well save some driving.”

Dean nodded. “Good idea.”

Buffy glanced up at him, longing in her eyes. Slowly, he approached her. To his surprise, she didn’t push him away. She fell into his arms, her head resting on his chest. Holding her felt like holding the whole beautiful, heavy world.

“We’ll be okay,” he said.

“We won’t,” she whispered.

Dean kissed the top of her head. “I love you, Buffy.”

She pulled away, her face pained. “Now? Now is when you feel like you can say it?” And she walked out of the room.

Spike sat on the lawn, the still-odd sensation of sun on his skin, while he flipped through the Potentials’ dossiers. In theory, he was resting. Buffy had used him again this morning as a target for the girls. After he’d been dragged to the ground by Sophia, Betje, and Lara successively, he’d cried uncle. He healed fast, but not vampire fast.

In reality, he was watching Buffy as she barked at the girls. There was tension in her face and nothing in her eyes. He knew that look. It was the same look she wore when she came back from Heaven, absent of desire or care. She’d given up.

He turned back to the trainees. Keisha had only been training as a Slayer for a few months before coming to Sunnydale. From the outside, she seemed perfectly average. Average height. Average grades. The mid-range cuteness most girls settle into. A little heavy, but in full possession of her muscles and weight. In fact, her understanding of how her body moved exceeded that of most of the girls. Coupled with her hard work, she had grown into one of the most capable Potentials, killing four vampires during her three months in town.

She had won the last three rounds, successfully forcing the small but more experienced Ju, then the athletic but inexperienced Steph out of the circle crudely painted on the lawn. Displacing Dani, a win that caused the crowd to cheer, had taken longer. Keisha was winded, her hair sticking to the sweat on her cheeks.

“Get in there, Kate,” Buffy ordered.

Keisha held up her hand. “Give me a moment, a’ight?”

“Kate, go!” Buffy barked. In seconds, untrained Kate had Keisha on her back.

“What the hell’s the matter with you?!” Keisha shouted, her usually calm voice hot. “I said. I needed. A breather.”

“You don’t get a breather in a fight. Rona, get in there with Kate!” Buffy shouted as Keisha slinked away.

Kate Spike knew. She was a mouthy, sarcastic and pessimistic. She had known nothing of the supernatural before Giles brought her to town from Ireland, and she hated every moment of training. Spike liked her.

Rona he did not know. Tall and well-muscled in camo pants and a cut-off tee, she stayed just out of reach to Kate’s right, forcing the smaller girl to constantly turn and use her energy in pursuit. Eventually, Rona grabbed Kate when she lunged and tossed her from the circle.

“Ladies, why did Rona win?” Buffy asked.

“Because she’s trained,” Kate complained.

“Pfft! Brawling ain’t training for vampire shit,” Rona scoffed. Her file said she was from Flint, Michigan, which meant nothing to Spike. Clearly, he needed to learn more about Michigan.

“Kate kept doing same thing. Grab. Miss. Grab. Miss. Rona use to her advantage,” Lara explained.

“Remember, girls, if something doesn’t work, don’t keep trying it. That gets you killed. Lara, since you’re in the know, see if you can knock Rona out.”

Lara’s grin was dark and hungry. Her dossier said she’d been training for two years. She was there when the Bringers killed her Watcher and was still injured from the brawl. Spike pitied Rona for the rage Lara needed to work out.

In seconds, Lara had dropped to the ground and swept her leg under Rona who fell out of the circle.

“Rona, you didn’t even try!” By some miracle, Buffy looked more mad than she had before.

“Why? She got years on me. Kinda like those vampires you’s ‘spectin’ me to fight.” The girl waved Buffy off and headed inside.

“Grace, go get her,” Buffy commanded. Grace did as she was told.

Spike’s body popped in protest as he got up. He leaned into Buffy, speaking low so the girls wouldn’t hear. “It’s after one. How about lunch? Most of the girls didn’t eat break--”

“You want to call it quits, go ahead. We have training to do.” Eyes steady on the circle, she didn’t even look at him. “Molly, you’re up!”

Molly, who was a decent fighter, lasted less than ten seconds before Lara had thrown her out of the circle by her pigtails. “Oi! That ain’t fair!”

“The object is to throw your opponent out of the circle. I don’t care how,” Buffy said. “Julia, you’re next!”

Sam added two more suitcases to the pile that blocked the sidewalk, not that anyone was casually strolling around Sunnydale anymore. The news of the slaughter at St. Agnes’ had spurred most of the remaining families to flee the town. Robin Wood had closed the high school.

At least the buses were free now, and within and hour Wood would be arriving with one to transport all of the girls and their luggage back to Buffy’s. If they ever got the rest of the apartment packed.

Christ, the girls have a lot of shit!

Lili emerged from the building, two bags in hand. Upon seeing Sam, she quickly moved to hide one behind her back. Lili, an orphan from Estonia, was one of the only girls who had thrived since arriving. Her eyes and skin were brighter now that she ate and slept regularly. Her habit of stealing had not made her any friends; although, Kimberly had attempted to make her some clothes. She should have two bags now.

So why hide?

Sam leaned past her to hold the door. “Lemme help you with that.” He smiled at her as he lifted the bag from her hand. It was heavy. Laptop heavy.

He pulled out his phone and turned on the translator. “You know we’re just going back to Buffy’s?”

“Are you going to pack?” she asked, smugly. “The girls are handling your books and other stuff.”

Sam nodded. “That’s nice of them.” She knew he knew. That was enough. Besides, she’d get tired of trying to bypass the passwords after a while.

“Hey, did you happen to find Dean’s stash of candy?”

“No.” Lili looked interested. At least he thought she did. She was hard to read.

Sam smiled. “I’m going to check on the girls. Make sure that candy gets packed.”

Lili almost smiled.

Something tugged at his heart when he knocked on the door of Jada’s old apartment. He took a deep breath. Told his heart not to flutter.

“Andate, vampiro!” A laugh echoed in the apartment when Maria opened the door.

Sam was glad they could laugh after everything that had happened. It kept them human. “How’s packing going?” he asked in Spanish.

The girl shrugged. “Do you know how many curling irons we have? Everyone’s arguing over what belongs to who.”

“That doesn’t matter. We just have to move everything to Buffy’s. Sort it out later. Put what you have in the hall, okay? We can always come back if anyone’s forgotten anything.”

As soon as Sam opened the door to his own apartment, a couple voices fell silent. The girls who didn’t speak English continued chattering away, casting suspicious or worried glances his way. He didn’t like to turn on the translator on his phone unless they asked. Let them complain in peace. Dean’s call this morning about moving everyone back to Buffy’s had only caused a surge in grumbling.

Stepping around cots and clothes, Sam headed to the kitchen, where some girls were working on packing up the food. The moment she saw him, Nitika poked Shakti and unleashed a flurry of Marathi.

Shakti sighed. She was tall and slim, pretty in that awkward, alien way a model is pretty, and very, very rich. Servants rich. Summer home rich. Private jet rich. And now she was sleeping on a cot, acting as translator to another girl from Mumbai, one far below her social rank. It goaded her, but like the leader-in-training she was, she bit her lip and soldiered on. Now, the shorter, bespectacled girl had a question for him that she needed to present.

“Nitika wants to know,” was how Shakti usually began, wanting to make it clear the words weren’t hers, “if we still have to train today or if we can attend to laundry.” Nitika was one of many girls who had arrived with one suitcase. Shakti had at least four, and Sam was fairly certain she sent all of their clothes to a cleaner anyway. At least when one had been available.

“Excellent plan!” said Kimberly, slapping the counter. Though certainly not rich, she had also arrived with several suitcases and changed her clothes with her mood. “Spraying sweaters with perfume only goes so far.”

Sam shook his head. “Sorry, Buffy’s orders are moving then training.”

A groan rose from the group in waves as the update was translated from language to language.

“This is a good plan.” He was kicking himself already. He knew some of them didn’t like Buffy, but all of their reasons were shallow. Complicating the issue, most of them were homesick. There wasn’t much to reason with at this point. Still he continued. “It takes how many trips to get you all back and forth to Buffy’s every day? Plus, there’s strength in numbers.”

“Deux filles sont mortes là-bas,” Eva said over the crowd. Two girls have died there.

A stillness settled over the room. What could he say? That they shouldn’t have gone outside? Been alone? That their futures would be clinging to Buffy’s skirts?

He didn’t have to answer the girls. The door banged open and Dean, his cheeks flushed from activity, joined them. “I got Lili and those million bags packed in the Impala. Should be back in forty for another round.”

“No need. Robin is coming with a school bus.”

Dean drew back in surprise. “Robin? Wouldn’t have expected that dickbag to raise a finger.”

Sam smirked. “I may have said something about him being less useful than Spike. Besides, school is closed. If I play my cards right, he may take up in one of the empty houses by Buffy’s.”

Dean smiled and patted his brother on the shoulder.

“Okay, ladies,” Dean bellowed, “I got room in my car for one more. Quicker we get to Buffy’s the happier she’ll be.”

Solange, an army recruit from Armenia, pointed at Sam.

He knew what she wanted. He got out his phone to slowly recount for her why Dean was there. Unfortunately, Armenian was not one of the translator’s better languages.

The girl stared at him, her large, expressive eyes showing a mix of confusion and disgust. “Why to serve her?”

“Serve? Buffy?” Sam asked.

“She is not a good officer.”

“Whoa, wait a second!” Dean surveyed the room, getting a feel for the tension he’d walked into. “Buffy is the best Slayer to ever live. Bar none.”

“For a lot of stuff, totally,” said Vi. She continued wadding up clothes and shoving them in her duffle. “Buffy beat The Master. She killed, like, a million vampires. She died beating Glory. There there’s all the demons and ghosts and stuff. Buffy’s cool. But The First isn’t any of that. It’s an archangel.”

“Life’s full of firsts,” Dean said.

Eva asked a question in French. The translator squawked, “Why aren’t you in charge? Or Sam?”

“Because we’re not the Slayer.”

“Who was chosen at random,” said Shakti. A wave of agreement rolled through the girls as she continued. “History tells of many Slayers who did not last a week. Buffy was not even trained when she was called. It is nothing short of a miracle that she has become such a legend.”

“See!” said Dean with a smile. “Buffy knows what’s up.”

“But being a survivor is not the same being a leader,” Shakti said, cooly.

Dean clenched his teeth. “You want to say that to her face? Do any of you want to tell the woman who took you in to keep you safe that she’s doing a shit job?”

No one made eye contact.

“Enjoy your damn bus,” he said before storming out.

God, there’s too much blood.

The house felt quiet at this hour. It had been two weeks since Buffy had spread the Potentials into the neighboring abandoned houses. That had caused the unending stream of bathroom traffic to ease up, which meant Willow wasn’t constantly waking up to the sound of flushing or vomiting.

Instead, the nightmares had woken her. The same nightmare Willow had been having for weeks. She was herself. She was beside herself. Behind herself. She was young. She was old. She was angry, her veins black, shooting out a power she could not control. She was setting Sam Winchester on fire.

Willow took another sip before refilling her glass. The cold water ran down her throat, reminding her she was awake. It hadn’t been real. She was Willow Rosenberg. Powerful witch. Total nerd. The Slayer’s best friend. Friend to Sam Winchester.

As Willow headed back to her room, something outside caught her eye. She grabbed someone’s hoodie by the door and stepped onto the porch.

“Buffy?” she asked, nervously reaching out. Her pounding heart relieved when her fingers brushed her friend’s shoulder.

“I didn’t know insomnia was contagious,” Buffy said. She was trying to make a joke, but the sadness in her eyes wasn’t selling it. A plaid shirt peeked out from under her sweatshirt. She’d been crying.

“Buffy, it’s four in the morning.” Willow sat on the porch beside her.

Her friend nodded. “That makes sense. An hour ago, it was three.”

They sat in silence for a while. Willow breathed a little spell to keep the chill away. Should have grabbed a blanket. She didn’t want to leave her friend, but she wasn’t sure where to start either.

Buffy got up and stalked across the street. She ripped a branch off a bush in front of the neighboring house and disappeared behind the palm. There was a cry and a poof of dust. She slowly walked back to the porch.

“How many vampires have you killed tonight?” Willow asked.

Buffy shrugged. “Six? They just watch. It’s kinda gross.”

“That’s gross? I mean, the vampire scale is sort of tipped heavy on grossness and evil.”

“They’re up to something.” Buffy’s voice was hard. “Probably reporting back to Lucifer.”

By now, Lucifer had to know that they’d spread into neighboring houses. No more driving between Xander’s or the Winchesters’. Even Principal Wood had agreed to serve as a den parent. Trouble was, the houses the guys had taken up in weren’t their homes. They’d warded them against angels and demons. Garlic and crosses hung everywhere. Willow had done a few protection spells with her little coven before Buffy pulled the girls off of all witchcraft studies.

“Do you think they’re looking for weak spots?” Willow asked. “What if they got in one of houses?”

Buffy shook her head. “These are spies. Not soldiers.”

“Never been a fan of the war metaphors.”

“Not a metaphor,” Buffy said, darkly. Her words hung heavy in the air.

“What did you do to get blacklisted by the Sandman?” Buffy asked.

“It’s just PMS,” Willow lied. “You?”

Buffy sighed. “Giles called a couple hours ago. He needed a ride. I asked Xander to go.”

Xander’s Potential house was across the street, which explained why Buffy was up and watching. But Giles usually rented a car to drive himself and the newest Potentials home. “Did he say anything else?”

Buffy shook her head.

“We’re not going to win,” Buffy said.

“Don’t say that.”

“This is beyond everything.”

“We beat Glory.”

“I died,” Buffy said. Her face was disturbingly calm. “Let’s say we defeat the Devil -- who we still don’t know how to kill -- not everyone is going home. I promised these girls I’d keep them safe. I can’t. I can’t keep them safe, or you or Dawn or Sam. People I love are going to die, no matter what I do.

“I keep…” Buffy stared at her hands. “I’ve been sitting here in the dark imagining you dead. You. Giles. Dawn. Dean. Everyone. We have to keep going, keep fighting. It’s us or the whole world. But I have to prepare myself. We’re not all going to make it to the end.”

Deep down, Willow feared the same thing. She leaned over, and hugged her friend.

They waited.

Eventually, Willow went inside for coffee and blankets. They waited some more.

Just past dawn, Xander pulled into the driveway. Giles had his arm in a sling. They were the only people in the car.

“What happened?”

Giles sighed. It looked as if he’d aged ten years. He spoke in a flat voice of someone recalling an accident. “When I got there, they were all dead. There was a Bringer though. Now he’s dead.

“I’m tired,” he stated, heading inside to sleep.

“Are you coming in?” Willow asked Buffy.

The Slayer kept her eyes on the rising sun. “Why?”

Cut scene from this chapter

next chapter

[paradoxicalpatton]

Happier

A short story inspired by this song

Summary: Phil saw Dan “cheat” on him and broke up the relationship, now they’re both starting to realise the other person is probably much happier now.  Word count: 1k Warnings: Slight mentions of rape (roughly something along the lines of rape), depression and depersonalization. 

"GET OUT" "No I'm not leaving you Phil" "I SAID GET OUT DAN" "I can't leave Phil, I love you too much" "IF YOU LOVED ME YOU WOULDN'T HAVE CHEATED, YOU SAID YOU'D NEVER DO THAT TO ME" "I didn't cheat Phil, he wouldn't take n-!" "Just leave Dan" ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Dan was walking down the wet footpath towards the apartment he was renting, he couldn't bring himself to leave London after the breakup. As per usual it was raining in England, the water droplets sliding off of Dan's umbrella as he shut it to enter the monochrome building. He took the lift to his level, rummaged through his bag to find his set of keys to unlock the door and went inside after another troubling day. As miserable as he felt, Dan still had little reminders of Phil here and there; On the coffee table was a copy of TABINOF and on the fireplace was DAPGO, in the kitchen was their pac-man oven mitts and the Lucifer spatula, and on Dan's bed was the brown monster plushie Phil had gotten him a few years back. Dan walked straight to his room and flopped onto his bed not even bothering to make himself dinner, he can't remember the last time he was this thin. He was depressed, even doctors had told him that, he wouldn't say he was suicidal though. It was more to the self-destructive side, he didn't self harm however, he refused to because then he would be breaking another promise he made to the blue eyed boy. Dan sighed heavily into his chequered pillow, he never meant to cheat on Phil, it was a big misunderstanding. He still felt disgusting, like he wasn't clean anymore. Phil never let Dan explain himself, he never let Dan tell him about what happened. If Phil wouldn’t listen then no one would, so Dan didn’t take the issue to the police, he decided it was better to live a life he wasn’t happy with, a life where he knew that rapists weren’t supposed to be punished. That was what he believed, because why would anyone believe him? The brunette was nearly asleep when he got a text from Pj, Pj - hey danny fire, did you know about phil’s new boyfriend? i thought you two were a thing?? Dan - no uh we broke up, i didn’t think he would move on so fast Pj - shit sorry dude, im coming over, where you staying??? Dan knew Pj would come over no matter what, so he texted him his address and slowly peeled himself off his bed to take a shower. By the time he got out Pj had texted him letting Dan know he was there, he waddled over to the door and let his friend in. “Fuck you look like shit Dan” “Wow thanks Peej” “Sorry, have you eaten? You’re really thin” “No I haven’t, I can’t remember the last time I did actually” “Alright we’re going to get ice cream then” Dan rolled his eyes, how was ice cream going to help? Nevertheless he went with his green eyed friend, and there just so happened to be a small ice cream stand in the park across the road. “Good afternoon kind sir, may I please have one triple choc mint swirl and one- Dan what did you want? And one honeycomb flavoured cone” They both grabbed their ice cream and sat on a bench under the large willow tree a few metres away. “Wow your ex was a dick” “I know, he was trying to make up some dumb excuse when I told him to leave” “What was his name?” “Daniel” Pj stared at Dan with a remorseful look, they both knew who was on the other side of the tree. “Let’s go Peej” “Alright, do you wanna listen to some music?” “Yeah, sure”  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ‘Cause baby you look happier, you do. My friends told me one day I’ll feel it too. And until then I’ll smile to hide the truth. But I know I was happier with you. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Who was he? He didn’t feel real, or alive, he didn’t feel human, like he had a purpose. It’s been three months and he still wasn’t over Dan, he missed midnight cuddles and morning kisses, he missed waking up to a warm bed and falling asleep to the sound of a certain brunette’s heart beat. But that same person was the one that broke his trust and his heart. He needed Dan, but he clearly didn’t need Phil anymore. Since then Phil hadn’t felt like himself, he didn’t feel like anyone really, he was more of a bystander, watching his life go by as if it was someone else’s. This had happened before, back in 2009. But he met Dan, and he felt like he had a purpose, to make this boy happy again and to help fix his problems. And slowly but surely the once insecure boy that was Phil, didn’t feel so infinitesimal anymore. Now that feeling was coming back, he didn’t want it back though, he was happy. At least he thought he was happy. Phil was awoken by his phone ringing, not bothering to check who it was he answered it. “Hello?” “Um hi, is this Phil? I saw your phone contact on tinder” “Oh uh yes that’s me” “I’m Josh, I thought maybe we could meet up for coffee or something today? You seem like an amazing person” “Yeah, I’d like that” Is that what this ‘Phil’ person wanted? He felt like a stranger in his own body, controlling someone else’s life, trying to make them happy. He got up and went for a shower before putting on new clothes, the normal black jeans and a button up shirt with cacti on them, Dan had bought that for him for his birthday. By the time he was ready it was 9:50, he had 10 minutes to get to Starbucks to meet with Josh. The coffee date went smoothly and Phil returned back to the apartment he had a love hate relationship with. A few weeks later Josh had asked Phil if he wanted to grab some ice cream together. He got dressed and called a taxi to the park near Josh’s house, they bought an ice cream to share and sat on a blanket behind a large willow tree in the park. He wasn’t happy, this ‘Phil’ person he was meant to be, he wasn’t happy with them. Yet he was controlling their life, making him go on dates and then go back home to just sit and stare into a mirror, trying to find who he was. Phil lied back while he was talking to Josh, but his mind drifted elsewhere when he heard music pass by. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ But I guess you look happier, you do My friends told me one day I'll feel it too I could try to smile to hide the truth But I know I was happier with you. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Dan and Peej walked past the two guys lying on the blanket, tears in the pale boy’s eyes. Baby you look happier you do. Tears began to well up in Dan’s eyes as well, the other man now turning around to see the two 6ft boys walking past. I know one day you’d fall for someone new. Phil began to stand up, he still loved Dan, he couldn’t lose him forever. But if he breaks your heart like lovers do. Dan kept walking, he knew if he looked back he’d lose all hopes of moving on.  Just know that I’ll be waiting here for you. But neither of them wanted to move on, they both wanted to be happier.