#now she finally has her moment in the sun and my girl is THRIVING

[classicdaisycalico]

As a supplement to my previous post, it's also really cool to note that it isn't just Mario who's having a grand old time in this adventure.

Everyone else in this roster of characters is having the time of their lives, too!

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Relief and A Promise

Summary: River Cartwright x Fe!Reader -> River has gone missing, but a conversation with a stranger helps a few things out -- OR -- River comes to find you after he's been kidnapped.

Disclaimer: Mentions of blood, broken ribs, wounds. Angst, fluff, happy ending, swearing. Not Proof Read.

You were gonna kill him. If you ever saw him again, you were gonna kill him. 

It had been a few hours since Lamb had told you, in his ever loving way, to get the fuck out of Slough House and mope some place else. And ever since, you’d walked around most of London and found yourself on the outskirts inside a small cafe drinking yet another builder’s tea. 

“Are you sure you’re okay, love?” You looked up to find a woman, maybe in her mid-fifties, dressed with an apron around her, looking at you as if you were a lost child who should be at school in the middle of the afternoon – despite the fact it was reaching seven in the evening. 

You faked a smile. “I’m fine. Just…been a long week.”

The woman, Ida, nodded. “I’ve been there. Need to talk about it? I’ve got my break in ten.”

You thought about it for a moment but then shook your head. “I don’t think there’s anything to talk about, really.”

“I beg to differ.” Ida said, softly. “Now, I might not know you from Adam, but I do know that look in your eye. Worry, fear, love.”

That last word forced you to look up at her. But she only smiled at you. “I’ll be with you in ten.”

Ten minutes later, inside the twenty four hour cafe, Ida sat across from you with her own mug of tea and a small tin of biscuits and a plate with a chicken club sandwich. 

“You haven’t eaten anything since you got here. Eat up, we can’t all thrive off tea, love.”

You smiled a little. “Thanks.”

“So, do you want to tell me your story or do you want me to tell you mine?” You seemed confused, but she only smiled. “It helps to talk about it.”

“I don’t usually talk much.”

“No, I figured.” Ida shuffled in her chair and got comfortable, picking up a biscuit as you ate your sandwich. “How about I go first?”

You just nodded. 

“Well, it was with my Tommy. Married since we were 21 and 23 respectively and good lord, do I love that man. We’d first met when I was ten. Next door neighbours. Spent almost every day together until I was seventeen. I was leaving for University, so we said our goodbyes but I couldn’t help but feel like something was different when saying goodbye to him. Something different than when I said goodbye to my other friends. Anyway, I went, came back, went again, came back again. Then on my twentieth birthday, we sat together. He’d taken me to get some fish and chips at our local and…then I knew. I knew I loved him.”

“Just like that?”

“There was a little more to it,” Ida added. “I’d always thought he was cute. Always the best looking guy I’d met. All the girls loved him. But that night I went home and I sat up. Why, I must have downed twenty cups of tea by the time the sun came back up. My mother came downstairs and took one look at me and knew. She saw the fear in my eyes and the worry. What if Tommy found out I loved him. I was never the best at hiding my feelings from him. Hiding anything from him, really.”

“So what happened?”

Ida sighed and drank her tea. “Well, I spent the next two weeks avoiding him as best as I could. Fearful he’d realise what I was feeling. Then one night he turned up at my University, just out of the blue. I’d gone without saying goodbye.” Ida laughed. “He looked like he’d ran all the way to me from home. Then…he told me. He told me he knew. So, of course, I asked “knew what?”.”

You felt yourself smile. “He knew you loved him.”

Ida nodded. “He’d always known. He told me he’d known since my birthday because I was finally looking at him the way he looked at me. He loved me, too. Had done since we were kids. After all, what man wouldn’t want a woman that was the best hula-hooper in their friendship circle.”

You laughed, and so did Ida. 

“So what happened after that?”

“Well, we got our footing going from friends to something a little more than that, until one night, he asked me to marry him and I said yes. And we’ve been together ever since. He's currently running one of the construction jobs down the street. That’s why this place is open twenty four seven. Lot of the construction men like to work through the night. Less foot traffic and pedestrians that can get hurt. London’s always been a busy place, love. Just gets busier every day.”

You smiled and nodded, looking back at your mug of tea that was growing cold. 

“So, what about yours?”

“What about mine?”

Ida smiled, getting you to look at her. “The one you’ve realised you love. What’s got you so worried? You’re friends? Co-workers? He’s not married, is he?”

“Oh, god. God, no.” You shook your head quickly but then you suddenly felt like you were in the hot seat. Clearing your throat, you tried your best to remain calm. “He’s just…He’s my friend…kind off.”

“Well, is he or isn’t he?”

“It’s complicated.”

Ida didn’t hide her frustration. “Oh, what is it with you kids these days with things being complicated. You know, there’s usually one of you in here every other week telling me it’s complicated.”

“Do you moonlight as a relationship therapist or something?”

“No, but people like yourself usually find yourself in my cafe in some way or another. So, why is it complicated?”

You took in a breath, deciding on telling her as much of the truth as you could. “We’ve worked together for a long time. We’re like a family. A fucked-up family, but still a family. Kinda like the outcasts that found one another?”

Ida nodded, understanding what you were saying. “But he’s sort of been AWOL these last couple of days, and I can’t help but imagine the worst.”

“And you regret not telling him something before he did?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. I just…I’m worried about him.”

“Well, do you have an idea where he could have gone?”

You shook your head. “There’s people looking for him.”

“Do you trust them?”

“What?”

“Do you trust them to find him?”

It took you a second, but you nodded, unsure where Ida was going with it. 

“Then trust them. Trust them to find him. Otherwise you’re just going to stress yourself out and you’re not going to have enough energy to tell him what he needs to hear when he does get back.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

Just then, a bell rang above the door and Ida sighed, finishing her tea before standing and carrying her things away. “Duty calls. I’ll bring you another cup.”

“Decaf?”

Ida smiled, lifting your mug, too. “Honey, I switched you to decaf after your second.”

You smiled back with a thankyou before pulling your phone out of your pocket, hoping a missed call would be waiting. But nothing of the kind was. 

Meanwhile, on the other side of London, an incoming call had just been made to Slough House. 

“Who was that?” Lamb asked as he walked in. 

“Cartwright.” Roddy told him. 

“What?”

“Apparently he’s still alive.”

“Good for him. Tell him to get his arse back here.”

“Can’t.”

Lamb stopped what he was doing to stare at Ho in disbelief. “Then call the bloody bastard back.”

“Doubt he’ll answer.”

“Why? What did he say when he called?”

Roddy just shrugged. “Told me he was alive and asked where Y/n was.”

“And did you tell him?”

“He called me a dickhead and just told me to do it. Once I did, he hung up. Why?” Roddy suddenly became more interested. “Do you think she had something to do with him going AWOL?”

Lamb just sighed. “Don’t you think we’d know by now if she had something to do with his little disappearing act? Jesus, I know the act of normal human attraction might not be fully on your radar, but I am disappointed you failed to notice what was right in front of you. Then again, why am I surprised?”

Sighing, Lamb left and headed back up the stairs. “If you manage to get ahold of him, tell them to be here by 8 tomorrow.”

An hour later, you were still in the cafe. You’d found an old newspaper with a half finished crossword puzzle inside. Correcting the mistakes and filling in the rest, by the time you finished, you had settled your final bill with Ida. 

Only, as you finished off what was left of your tea, you felt a hand touch your shoulder. Looking up, you were met with the bloodied face of River Cartwright. 

“River.” Saying his name as well as finally seeing him felt like a breath of fresh air. 

The chair from beneath you screeched as you shot up and wrapped your arms around him. His arms tightening around you, you placed your hands on his face and leaned back, trying to survey and count up each injury he had. 

“What the hell happened? Where were you? I thought you were dead. What happened?”

“I love you.” River blurted out. And for a moment you didn’t know what to say. Of all the answers he could have given you, that was the least expected one. 

“What?”

River shook his head lightly. “Sorry. I can explain what happened later. I just…I needed to tell you that. That I love you. I’ve been kicking myself for the last two days for not telling you sooner. I just…you don’t have to say anything. You don’t even have to feel the same. In fact, you can spend the rest of your life avoiding me if you want to. I’d rather you didn’t, but, I mean, if you wanted to do that, it’d be fine. I could live with it. But I couldn’t live without telling you I love you and-”

River was cut off from his ramble by you hugging him, tight. And you hugged him tighter still when his arms finally wrapped around you. 

“I thought you were dead,” your voice mumbled into his jacket. 

“I almost was.”

Slowly, you leaned back and took him in. The blood down his nose and mouth, the dirt and muck in his beard, his hair slightly darker from a mixture of all three. The way he held himself under your touch told you more than it should have done. He was hurt. Badly. He needed rest. He needed some form of medical attention. Most of all he needed a wash. 

“You kids be safe,” Ida said as she made her way over. She didn’t say anything more. She didn’t have to. The look in her eyes and the softness of her smile told you so already. 

With a grateful smile, you thanked her before taking River’s hand in yours and leading him outside. 

“Whoa, hey, okay, slow down, slow down.”

“Sorry.”

It wasn’t long before you hailed a taxi and found yourself and River inside your apartment. You sent him for a shower first, picking up the clothes he’d been wearing for a few days. There were stains on it that were a few days old. Blood and puddle water that would never wash out. 

Whilst River was in the shower, you rushed down the street towards the Big supermarket. Having read the labels of his clothes before leaving, you picked up a few items that would fit him. You made it back before he’d even gotten out of the shower. 

Pulling the tags off, you folded the clothes up on a chair before leaving out the full length pajamas; a blue t-shirt and darker blue pj bottoms. 

“I’ve left some clothes on the bed for you,” you called out through the door. “Come downstairs when you’re dressed.”

“Okay. Thanks!”

You nodded before walking away. Fifteen minutes later, River met you downstairs where you ushered him into your living room and made him sit down. Most of his wounds were clean, but you made sure to clean them twice more before taping a few shut. Others would heal on their own accord, but some would need help. 

“Show me your knee.”

Slowly, River pulled the pant leg up, exposing the open scab on his knee. You’d seen the hole in his jeans, but you hadn’t expected for it to still look fresh. 

River hissed, and you apologised. 

“It’s just cold.”

Taking extra care, you cleaned up the last of his wounds before looking him over once more. Something still wasn’t right. 

“How are your ribs?”

“Heavily bruised.” River said, honestly. “Maybe fractured.”

“I’m surprised they’re not broken.”

“I’m surprised I’m not dead.”

You looked at him. “How did you even get out?”

River shrugged. “Guess they had no use for me anymore.”

“Then why not kill you?”

“They tried. They were moving me to somewhere else. Somewhere I guess not a lot of people find bodies. I managed to get away in time.”

“What if they followed you?”

River shook his head. “Lamb’s been on my tail since ten minutes after I called Roddy to tell me where to find you.”

You sat back, a little shocked. “He knew you were alive and didn’t tell me?”

“Guess he figured you’d want to hear it from the horse’s mouth.”

You furrowed your brow and sighed. “I really thought something terrible had happened, River. Lamb kicked me out of the office today for moping around.”

“Why? You should know by now I won’t walk away from you easily. You’re stuck with me, remember?”

You looked at River and smiled. He had never forgotten what you had told him the first time you saw him at Slough House. He’d been there two months before you joined him, surprising him one morning when he walked in and found you unpacking at the desk across from him.

“Apparently, I’m stuck with you and will be for the rest of my life, River Cartwright.”. 

Though, to be fair, you’d rather be stuck with River for the rest of your life than be spun inside Spider’s web any day of the week. 

Sitting back, you pushed yourself to stand. “Stay there.”

“Considering I’m in a world of pain when I do, I’ll listen this time.”

You chuckled. “I’m getting you an ice pack to help with the swelling, hold on.”

Two minutes later, you came back in and handed River a packet of peas wrapped in a tea towel to press against his leg before you leaned forward. 

“What are you doing?”

“Just stay still.” Reaching forward, you lifted River’s t-shirt a little and pressed a second ice pack to his ribs. He tried to squirm away but eventually settled. Slowly, he reached his arm around himself to hold it, but you shook your head. 

“You’ll only twist yourself. I can hold it.”

“Thanks.”

For a brief moment, silence settled over the room. But, the longer you spent in River’s presence, the more the thought of this never happening in the first place played in your mind. He could have died. You might never have seen him, or heard his voice ever again.  

So you surprised him. 

To be fair, you also surprised yourself. 

You kissed him. 

It was…a mixture of emotions. Grief, sadness, relief, curiosity, surprise, shock, desperation for confirmation that everything was real; that he was alive and in front of you. 

“I don’t want to spend the rest of my life avoiding you, River. And I do feel the same. When I found out you went missing, I…I couldn’t-”

“You don’t have to explain.”

You didn’t know whether to nod or shake your head. If you didn’t get it out now, you probably never would. 

“I couldn’t even breathe, River. The thought of you being gone, the thought of never seeing you again or speaking to you or hearing your voice…I couldn’t bear it. I really thought something terrible had happened; especially when Lamb stood me down.”

“Lamb stood you down?”

You nodded. “I was ready for blood, River. If Lamb had let me go, you wouldn’t be the only one with broken ribs. My point is, I don’t ever want to lose you, River.”

River smoothed down your hair before holding your face. “And you won’t.”

“You can’t make that kind of promise to me. And I can’t make it to you.”

“I can promise to do everything to come back to you. And I did. I can’t lie, I did think I was a dead man for a while there. But all I could think about was you. Getting back to you. I love you. More than I can ever tell you.”

“I love you, too, River. I love you, too.”

Leaning up, you kissed River again. This time there was less confusion, less sadness. Just relief and a promise. 

A promise to always make it back. 

Even if it meant a few broken ribs on the way back. 

[gavitaffy]

Goals of the heart

Chapter: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

A/N: Heyy guys! I'm "back" after what..?😀 Since July and it's December rn, but I just started my last year at school, and I've decided to become a "IT student" so I gotta work my ass off rn. I've had 6 midterms in the course of 2 weeks... BUT I will start a little series called "Goals of the Heart", I'll try to post everyday of this series.

Paring: Pablo Gavi & f!reader

Summary: Y/N, an artist sketching in Barcelona, has her painting ruined when a stray football crashes into her easel. The culprit, a young man named Pablo Gavi, apologizes profusely and buys her new art supplies to make up for it. She later learns he's a famous footballer for Barcelona but brushes it off, treating him as just "the guy who ruined her painting." Gavi, intrigued by her indifference, offers to take her for coffee, hinting at the start of a surprising connection between them.

Warnings: none

Word count: 1,1k (i'm proud🥲)

Chapter 1: A Chance Encounter

The warm afternoon sun filtered through the narrow streets of Barcelona’s Gothic Quarter, casting golden light over centuries-old buildings. Y/N sat on a small stool in a quiet corner, her easel propped up in front of her. She had spent the past hour working on a sketch, capturing the lively essence of a street performer strumming a guitar. Around her, tourists and locals bustled, but in her mind, it was just her and the soft scratching sound of her charcoal pencil on paper.

She loved this part of the city. The worn cobblestones, the scent of coffee and churros from nearby cafés, and the chatter of different languages all created an energy she thrived on. Her hand paused briefly as she admired her progress. Just a few more details, and—

Thud!

Before Y/N could react, a football crashed into her easel, knocking it sideways. She yelped as her canvas toppled, splattering paint in every direction. The streaks of color ruined her meticulous sketch, turning it into an unrecognizable mess.

“¡Lo siento mucho!” a voice called out.

She spun around, her frustration bubbling over. A young man was jogging toward her, his dark brown eyes wide with concern. He was about her age, with slightly messy dark blond hair and a lean, athletic build. Sweat clung to his brow, and he wore a plain white T-shirt and shorts, looking like someone who had just finished a workout.

“Are you serious right now?” Y/N exclaimed, gesturing to the mess of paint and ruined paper. “Do you know how long I’ve been working on this?”

He stopped in front of her, hands on his knees as he caught his breath. “I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice warm and apologetic. “It was a bad pass. I didn’t mean to ruin your work.”

Y/N folded her arms, glaring at him. “Well, you did. This is completely ruined!”

He straightened, his expression softening into one of guilt. “I’ll fix it. I’ll buy you a new canvas and anything else you need. I promise.”

For a moment, she hesitated. He seemed sincere, but the frustration of seeing her hard work destroyed made it hard to let go. Finally, she sighed, shaking her head. “Fine. But you’re carrying my supplies back to the shop.”

His face brightened with relief, and he nodded. “Deal.”

As they walked toward the nearest art supply shop, Y/N couldn’t help but notice the way people were looking at him. A few passersby did double takes, and a group of teenagers whispered excitedly before sneaking out their phones to take pictures. She frowned, glancing sideways at him.

“Why is everyone staring at you?” she asked bluntly.

He looked slightly amused. “I don’t know. Maybe they’re just curious about the girl I ruined a painting for?”

She rolled her eyes. “Right. Sure.”

He laughed, a light, easy sound that caught her off guard. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

They reached the shop a few minutes later, and he immediately took charge, picking out the largest canvas he could find and tossing in a set of paints and brushes for good measure. Y/N tried to protest. “You don’t need to buy all of that! Just a new canvas is fine.”

He grinned. “Nope. I’m making up for the mess I caused.”

The shopkeeper, an older woman with sharp eyes, gave them both an amused look as she rang them up. “You know who he is, don’t you?” she asked Y/N in a low voice.

Y/N blinked in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

The woman tilted her head toward him. “That’s Pablo Gavi. He plays for Barcelona.”

The name rang a faint bell. Y/N wasn’t a big football fan, but she had heard about the young prodigy making waves in the sport. Her eyes widened slightly, and she turned to look at him again. He was busy chatting with the shopkeeper, a lopsided smile on his face as he struggled to balance the supplies he’d just purchased.

When they left the shop, Y/N couldn’t resist asking. “So, you’re kind of a big deal, huh?”

He glanced at her, his brow furrowing in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“The shopkeeper said you play for Barcelona. I’ve heard your name before,” she said, her tone neutral.

He shrugged, a sheepish look crossing his face. “Yeah, I play for the team. But I didn’t think you’d recognize me. You don’t seem like the football type.”

“I’m not,” she admitted with a small laugh. “But now I get why people were staring at you.”

“Great. Now you’re going to treat me differently,” he said, half-joking.

“Relax,” Y/N replied with a smirk. “You’re just the guy who ruined my painting.”

He burst out laughing, the sound echoing down the narrow street. “Fair enough. What’s your name, by the way? I don’t think I got it earlier.”

“Y/N.”

“Well, Y/N, I owe you more than just a canvas,” he said, his voice softening. “Let me make it up to you properly. Can I take you for coffee or something?”

Y/N hesitated, caught off guard by the earnest look in his eyes. Despite herself, she smiled. “We’ll see. Maybe I’ll run into you again.”

“Maybe,” he echoed, his grin widening.

As she watched him jog off down the street, Y/N felt a strange flutter in her chest. What started as a ruined painting might just turn into something unexpected. Little did she know, this was the beginning of a story that would change both of their lives.

[damonalbarn]

Hey I was wondering if you knew the article that Justine spoke about suzi in?!

It was in The Guardian in 2000. Here you go:

Sweet revenge

In the mid 90s, Justine Frischmann and Damon Albarn were the First Couple of Britpop. Then he used a Blur album to rake over their break-up, while she languished in obscurity amid rumours of heroin addiction. Now she's back with a new album, and it's her turn to exorcise her demons.

Caroline Sullivan

Friday March 24, 2000

As Alison Moyet once said, it's hard to write a decent song when you're happy. Rock bands thrive on romantic turmoil in their private lives, without which they would be reduced to padding out lyrics with football scores and the weather.

Thus it was for Blur's Damon Albarn in mid-1998 when he sat down to write what would become the 13 album. His eight-year relationship with Justine Frischmann of the chart-topping Elastica, whom he once described as **"the only person who's ever been completely necessary to me" **had just ended, at her instigation. Pained and humiliated, he decided to exact revenge by exposing their most intimate details to public scrutiny.

The outcome? Embarrassment for Frischmann, a number one album for Blur and a bit of a result for Albarn.

Break-up albums are by definition both embittered and yearning - in the case of Marvin Gaye's vindictive Here, My Dear, they're just plain nasty - but 13 got more up-close and personal than could be considered gentlemanly. Albarn portrayed his former partner as neurotic, even slipping apparent drug references into the single Tender: "Tender is the ghost, the ghost I love the most/Hiding from the sun, waiting for the night to come". Frischmann was the ghost, supposedly, who was on the verge of being consumed by what one music paper euphemistically called "the darkness at the heart of Elastica".

Frischmann's response can be found on a song called The Way I Like It, which appears on Elastica's first album in five years, The Menace (out next month): "Well, I'm living all right and I'm doing okay/Had a lover who was made of sand, and the wind blew him away".

This is unlikely to be her last word on the subject. As she ambivalently begins her first round of interviews since 1996, she's finding that everyone has the same three questions. Why did Elastica nearly sabotage a promising career by taking so long to follow up their million-selling debut? Had Frischmann taken leave of her senses when she walked out on Mr Britpop? And what about the drug rumours?

"One journalist said to me, 'Dahling, I heard you were on heroin - Mahvelous!' " she says with some amusement. "Drugs are around, but I'm not that interested and never have been, although there have been elements of party animal in my band. The rumours are a lot to do with rock'n'roll mythology, where people want to believe you're having a more exciting time than you are."

The only drugs on her person today, as she perches on the edge of an armchair in her publicist's north London living room, are Marlboro Lights. Her other indulgences are two cups of herbal tea and a Cadbury's Flake cupcake, which she nibbles with well-bred pleasure. Her dark eyes are clear, and her long, tanned body is a testament to the virtues of a daily swim in a pool near her Notting Hill home. Only Elastica know whether they really succumbed to heroin and hedonism after their self-titled debut made them more famous than they'd ever expected to be, but if they did, Frischmann, 30, seems little the worse for it.

Given the current predominance of damnable boy bands, the Britpop mid-90s are beginning to seem like a halcyon period for English music. It was a time when the underground went overground, and a self-described "little punk band" like Elastica could sell 80,000 albums in a week.

More than a few loser guitar groups saw Britpop as a licence to print money, but Elastica, led with cool elan by the androgynous Frischmann, were one of its gems. The Blur connection was a marketing godsend (Frischmann and Albarn met on the London indie circuit, she as guitarist in an early line-up of Suede and girlfriend of frontman Brett Anderson, he as a cherubic baggy hopeful), yet the spiky-haired Elastica LP embodied that euphoric time like nothing else.

Frischmann, guitarist Donna Matthews, drummer Justin Welch and bassist Annie Holland were unprepared for the album soaring to number one in its first week. When they signed their record deal, Frischmann, whose great-grandfather was a conductor of the Tsar's orchestra at the Summer Palace in Byelorussia, was five years into an architecture degree at London University. A liberal north London Jewish upbringing - her engineer father built the Oxford Street landmark Centrepoint - had instilled expectations of success, but the reality of being photographed in the supermarket and having her rubbish stolen was a shock. Fiercely independent, she also resented her unsought role as half of Britpop's First Couple.

There was more. Two of Frischmann's musical heroes, The Stranglers and Wire, decided that two Elastica songs were suspiciously similar to two of their own tracks, and won royalties. Meanwhile, there were malicious rumours that Albarn had done much of the work on the record. He hadn't, but he did find Justine's success in America, where she was substantially out-selling Blur, hard to endure.

"It was very hard for him to deal with and he's very confrontational," she says, with the flattering openness of someone who prefers interviews to be more like conversations. She admits she often says too much, but in an era of image control and spin, her honesty makes her a one-off. Not that she's likely to land herself in it too badly - she possesses the intellectual ammunition to look after herself, which must have been instrumental in attracting two of rock's more articulate stars, Albarn and Anderson.

She's been accused of being a professional rock girlfriend, though it was probably they who were lucky to get her. She spent the cab ride over reading the Sylvia Plath letters in Monday's Guardian, and muses on the irony of the poet's subjugating herself to Ted Hughes when she was the more gifted. (Her new boyfriend, by the way, is an unknown photographer, "though that'll probably change, because men seem to get famous when I go out with them".)

"I reacted the way a lot of women do, by being passive," she continues. "He put a lot of pressure on me to give up Elastica. He said, 'You don't want to be in a band, you want to settle down and have kids.' " In so many words? "In so many words. He kept putting on pressure till I started to believe him." She adds bemusedly: "I've met his new girlfriend, and one of the first things she said was that he wanted her to give up travelling with her work to stay home with the baby [Missy, born last autumn]. I'm surprised he's got away with being thought of as a nice person for so long."

After 18 months, during which they did seven American and three Japanese tours, Elastica came off the road to record company demands for an immediate second album. Annie Holland's response was to quit the group, while Donna Matthews became renowned for hard partying on the nocturnal west London scene. They lethargically recorded some demos, but their heart wasn't in it. By 1997, when a second album should have been ready to go, Frischmann and Matthews were barely speaking, and there was nothing useable down on tape.

Holland's replacement, Sheila Chipperfield (of the circus Chipperfields), was deemed not good enough and left by mutual consent. By 1998, their continued lack of productivity was being likened to the Stone Roses' lengthy and ultimately self-destructive holiday between their first and second LPs.

"I didn't think Elastica were going to continue at that point, and we did kinda split up," she says, absently stroking her publicist's cat. Frischmann is a cat person; she's owned a tabby called Benjamin since she was 10. "Unconditional love," she coos. The pet's place in her life is so assured that prospective boyfriends are subjected to his feline scrutiny before she'll go out with them.

On top of everything else, in early 1998 her relationship with Albarn was in trouble. Frischmann retains enough of the indie ethic to detest the phenomenon of celebrity couples, and was dismayed when they became one. "I really hated the tabloid interest, and I went out of my way not to be photographed with him. Only about three pictures of us together exist, I think. In many ways, I think the media interest broke us up, because it made me feel the relationship was quite ugly, and I had to get away from it. There were other factors, too, obviously, because we were together for eight years, and I finally felt it was better the devil you didn't know, really."

Albarn's ego seems to have been severely undermined by having a girlfriend who was nearly as successful as he was, and something of a sex symbol to boot. Despite adopting a resolutely boyish T-shirt-and-jeans uniform, she's thoroughly feminine, a mix that got her voted fifth most fanciable woman in a lesbian magazine.

"I'm completely heterosexual, so I didn't know how to take that. It scares the shit out of me, the idea of being with a girl. I'm glad I've narrowed it down to half the people in the world."

She seems to view Albarn with indulgent exasperation these days, simultaneously praising his intelligence ("The Gallaghers just couldn't compete") and ticking off his flaws. "Damon adores being in the press, and sees all press as good press. He orchestrated that rivalry thing with Oasis. He really wanted kids, and I didn't feel our relationship was stable enough. He was a naughty boy, and he wasn't the right person to have kids with. I had this cathartic moment..."

At which point they split up. Albarn wrote 13 and then met Suzi Winstanley, an artist. "She was pregnant within three months," Justine observes wickedly.

Of the acclaimed 13, she's tactful, describing several songs as "really lovely". She studies her cigarette for a while before adding, "but I'm cynical about selling a record on the back of our relationship". But you're doing the same now. "It's true, but at the time I had no right of reply."

Elastica finally pulled themselves together last year, just as the music industry was about to write them off (their American label had already "very kindly let us go", as she puts it). Holland rejoined, Matthews went to Wales to sort out her life and the band banged out an EP and played the Reading Festival. Things came together quickly after that. They spent the last £10,000 of the recording budget on re-recording a dozen tracks, finishing the album, after years of procrastinating, in six weeks. They've called it The Menace "because that's what it was like to make".

It's dark and resolutely uncommercial - all wrong for 2000's pop-oriented climate. It's unlikely to match the success of the first one, which is fine with them. Call it (though Justine doesn't) their White Album. Its 70s punk aesthetic brings to mind angry girls such as the Slits and the Au Pairs, although the defining mood isn't anger so much as catharsis. None of the songs is specifically about Albarn, she claims. "The dark feeling is due to the sense of isolation, tasting success and getting frightened by it. I was questioning whether I wanted to be in a band any more, and there was no one I could ask for advice. Getting success and everything you ever dreamed about is hard to handle, and makes you question everything."

She's better prepared for success, if it comes again, this time. Already the privacy-preserving barriers are in place. The next interview of the day is with Time Out magazine, which wants a list of her favourite restaurants. "I'm not telling them where I eat," she says reflexively. "I'm gonna lie."

[ushisrever]

LOST ROYALS PROLOGUE

What does it take to be in your arms? What does it take to finally deem myself worthy of someone as great as my beloved wife - the prophesied fae?

Pair : Oikawa Tooru x fem oc

Genre: fluff, hurt/comfort

Summary: Oikawa Tooru (a fae) is set to have an arranged marriage to the high royal princess fae (reader). Though, he has no idea why the high royal princess chose him. Therefore, he does everything he can to be noticeable or acceptable or at the same level as the princess’s great achievements. The only thing is the high royal princess who is one of the three prophesied faes to defeat the dark lord is too busy with her own duties to notice her husband’s efforts.

A/N: Alright...let’s do this! I’m going to do this right hahaha (why so dramatic? hahahaha). Anyway, here it is lol. 

MASTERLIST

In a world where fae creatures live, they expect it to be a world thriving with nature itself. Just like a flower blooming the moment the sun rises.  Though, little did what any other creatures that lives outside the world of faes, is that the peaceful forests in the kingdoms are plagued with gorgos - the dark creatures of the fallen dark fae.  Soldiers from here and there hunt them down at sight and kill them with no hesitation.  Even the slightest remnants of such dark creatures can slowly poison the peaceful lands.

Centuries the three great kingdoms of faes - Abingora, Aglovale, and Domhnall - have to suffer against the filthy hands of the dark lord. However, hope bloomed when the three prophesied faes were born. One the same day, each was born from each kingdom. A baby boy from the kingdom of Abingora. A baby girl from Agolvale kingdom and another baby girl from the kingdom of Domhnall.

It is a joyous day; however, it’s not like the dark lord doesn’t know of these prophesied faes which only then lead to a tragic death of a mother of a prophesied fae. The queen of Domhnall Kingdom - Amara Cleremont’s mother.

At that incident, each of the high royals from the three kingdoms knew of the great responsibility it brings for these three prophesied faes to be blessed to them. For that, they kept the three newborn babies in an Ancient land protected by the three kingdoms. The babies then are entrusted to a great human sorcerer to become their mentors.

With this…two decades have passed in an instant.

After being secluded from the world of faes, the three faes , Amara Cleremont of the Domnhall Kingdom; Faelyn Vaughna of the Aglovale Kingdom; and Kotaro Bokuto Harcourt of the Abingora Kingdom , are finally to go back to their own kingdoms. It is what you call their debut to the fae world.  It must feel like some kind of reunion for the royal families, but duty is what they are met with…especially with the greatest prophesied of them all…Amara Cleremont.

“That’s the nth time today,” Amara sighs to herself.  For the past month after she finally gets to live in her own kingdom, she found herself always being the topic of every servant and soldier that lurked around the castle.  It would have been better if they just talked about her about whatever it is their impression of her. Though, ever since she has been walking around her own castle, servants and soldiers simply just…quiver in fear at the sight of her.

“With what?” Ukai Keishin, Amara’s mentor , asked. They both walk side by side down the hallway of branches and ornaments. The atmosphere has the scent of flowers.

“It has probably been a nth time since a servant accidentally spilled food or whatever they were holding when I passed by. Seriously, it’s not like I’ll turn them into ashes or whatever,” Amara sighed.

Ukai simply sighed and shaked his head. “Can you blame them? The moment you set foot in your own kingdom, the first thing you did was catch some bandit and break a line of trees in just a snap. You even made the bandit pee himself.  I’m sure rumors are much exaggerated now,” He shoves his hands in his pocket.

It’s truly fine with Amara that servants and soldiers see her as a royal and not some mere no one. She has authority if anything. The last thing she wants is for them to lose any inch of hope for her. That’s the purpose of her birth anyway…to protect all of them and to believe she’ll rule the lands in a prosperous way.  Though, to see them shivering in fear…sometimes there is just a lingering nervousness for herself as well when she sees their expressions. Besides, there’s more to what she can do than to just break a few lines of trees.

“Well, do you think they’ll fear me more after the demonstration?” she asked.

“Probably. Though, I am sure that after that day, the courts will finally be at ease and put them in place,” Ukai replied. They turn to another hallway.

Amara doesn’t answer that anymore.  After a while they stop in front of the doors to the throne room.

“Well, I’ve done my job for now,” Ukai said and took his leave. Before anything else, Amara enters the throne room with a sigh.

As she enters the throne room, she is met with big branches forming up like a dome. Hints of flowers here and there and marbled floors.  Detailed gold like branches on the floor and trails up to a staircase and up to the branch like throne.  Amara’s father sits upright on his throne.  He wears a silk like black robe and a golden crown on top of his head.

“You’ve called for me?” Amara said as she stood before the staircase to the throne.

“Yes, I did. There is something I want to talk about before the demonstration is set,” Her father spoke.

Amara doesn’t answer.

“Your marriage…I think it’s best we find you a suitable partner,” The words ring around the room.

Though, it took awhile for Amara to process the words. When it did, her heart dropped and her hands clenched.

“WHAT?!” Small force of explosion comes from her. She is quite taken by surprise by the sudden outburst of her powers, but he doesn’t let it show on his face.

“I wish to find you a suitable partner as soon as possible…if anything, before the demonstration.  If I am to pass the ruling to you, you’ll need a king to stand beside you. It has been a long-written contract from generation to generation,”  Her father explained.

She knew of such a law on how royals cannot rule alone. They must have a king or queen for them to attain the throne.  She practically memorized all the laws and customs of her own kingdom growing up. Though, it has only been a month since she actually met her father face-to-face and actually…lives in her own home.  She’s only been getting accustomed and gaining the trust of every subject that serves the kingdom. Now, she even has to deal with finding someone she can trust to not die as they stand beside her? Who knows? They even die on the first night.

Amara sighs. “Isn’t this too soon, your majesty?”

It’s the king’s turn to let out a sigh. “I’ve talked to Lady Esmeray,”

The lady witch? She thought. It’s always not good news when she hears the name. Practically, the lady is like a living guidebook who knows how to handle the likes of her. A fae with uncontrollable abilities.

“She said that finding you a suitable partner with neutral blood which then is compatible with your blood will help balance your abilities,” Her father explained once more.

“So it's still about my abilities,” she bitterly chuckled.

As her father noticed the unconvinced facial expression on Amara’s face, he then spoke. “If you agree to this, I’ll give you unlimited access to the sacred books you have been trying so hard to steal from the dear librarian,”  

Amara’s eyebrows lift up.  Her interest increased the moment she heard of those. The sacred books have been the one thing she’s trying to get a hold of.  Sacred books that are of importance into understanding herself more and what was in the past.  Unfortunately, only the current ruler has access to such books for it contains valuable information (which only makes her needing those books more).  

Amara takes a while to weigh out the options before she finally speaks. "Alright,"

"Good,"

"I have one more condition," she added.

Her father doesn't answer.

"I get to decide on how I'll find a suitable partner and I get to choose who it'll be," her eyes narrowed.

Her father sighs. "Only a first born son is allowed to be a prince,"

"Great.  The more we narrow down the options, but I still get to choose and how I'll choose,"

Her father knew there was no point arguing.  It would also be in a losing ground if the one he chooses is someone Amara doesn't like.  It might just put him in trouble that might be too difficult to handle. Therefore, he simply nods and agrees.

"Fine.  I give you two months,"

[handy-dandy-monster-candy]

Louis

Rating: SFW Length: 1412 Pairing: Male Vampire Lover x Male Vampire Reader

For my sweet anon, who wanted domestic vampires.

xxx

“They’ll be gathering the pitchforks soon,” I say, chuckling as I peek through behind the curtains to the town at the bottom of our hill.

“Hm?” hums my lover, Louis—a statuesque man with hair and eyes as gold as a king’s crown. “Who, my love?”

“The townsfolk,” I impishly reply, coming away from the window to cross the room to where Louis sits, reading. I flounce my way onto his lap and he huffs his amusement, tossing his book onto the small table beside his winged chair and gathering me into his muscular arms.

“Do they whisper about us still?” he asks, smiling with his fangs on display.

“Always,” I say, tucking his hair away from his face and leaning in to press a chaste kiss to his lips.

Louis hums his content, squeezing me gently. “Let them talk,” he whispers, nuzzling his nose down against mine in a bunny kiss. “What fault is it of mine that I didn’t know the old baker had died years ago?”

“It’s my fault for craving his fruit tarts after so many years,” I grumble, pouting; I was an excellent chef and baker in my own right, but some cooks kept their secrets guarded jealously, and I could never recreate that particular baker’s tarts to my satisfaction. “Do you think they’ll let me copy his recipe book now that he’s gone?”

“I’d gladly steal it for you,” says Louis, smiling softly and slowly in that way that lets me know he’s all about mischief.

“Louis! I’d never want to leave them without their tarts.”

My lover makes an irritable noise in the back of his throat. “Much more charitable than I,” he mutters, pressing kiss after sweet kiss to my lips. “I would deny them everything if it gave you what you wanted.”

“I know,” I giggle, squirming happily under his onslaught. “Because you love me.”

“Because I adore you,” he corrects, standing up and setting me daintily on my feet. “Because I worship you, the only man I consider my equal, my minx, my muse, my inspiration.”

“Flatterer,” I laugh, feeling myself flush with pleasure; he always knew how to make my heart flutter as gaily as a boy’s after all these years.

Louis takes my hands and kisses them, nipping at my knuckles with his sharp incisors. “It is all true,” he says, drawing me close just to spin me away from himself, but never too far away to reel me back in so that we dance chest to chest. “You are my recovery.”

This stirs my heart more than I can express. I remember a time when Louis was a tormented soul, feeding upon humans and starving himself in the times between, weak and trembling and pale. Now, we feed upon our healthy cattle and never to excess, and my lover is graceful and flushed beneath his golden skin. He moves with confidence instead of shame, and his magic comes to him quietly and steadily instead of being a wild and intemperate thing.

“Come downstairs and brush the girls with me,” I wheedle, trying to distract him from his amorous thoughts.

“In a moment,” he says, humming an old and beautiful tune as he takes me around the room. He’s watching me intently, and at my questioning look, he says, “Your eyes are the most beautiful colour I have ever seen, my sylph.”

I flush all the way down to my neck, biting my lower lip with my own fang. “They’re only brown,” I mumble, dismissive.

“They are like the finest red wine in the sunlight,” he insists, voice quiet and tone earnest. “Like burnt sugar and rich clay and all of what our flowers grow in.”

“Louis!” I say around my laughter, spluttering and shying away from him. “How silly you sound, you gilded god!”

Louis grins and kisses the inside of my wrist, up along my arm. “And you are my caramel dryad, whose very touch brings life.”

“Stop it, you goose egg!” I’m all a-titter, laughing like a vapid coquette. “Come downstairs and spend time with me outside of this stuffy library.”

“You decorated this library,” he reminds me, taking my arm and sweeping me out of the offending room.

“And I think it looks appropriately stuffy, like a library should,” I reasonably reply, feeling mischief making my old bones light and my steps airy. “Shall we tend to the garden together? The magnolias are in full bloom.”

“I know it,” he says, leading me down the stairs and through the old kitchens to the back yard. “I saw Matilda dozing beneath one earlier, with flowers on her horns.”

“Oh, I hope she births soon,” I murmur, anxiety fluttering in my chest.

Louis brings my hand up to kiss, nipping my knuckles sharply this time, to get my attention and turn my thoughts away from my fretting. “She’ll be fine. She’s done this once before.”

“Oh, I know,” I tut, mostly at myself, “but you know she’s my favourite.”

“Is she?”

“Don’t give me that look. Second to you, as always.”

“Hm.”

“Pouty baby.”

“I’m not pouting.”

“You’re pouting on the inside.”

“You can see inside of me? How exposing.”

“Only sometimes,” I say, linking my fingers between his as we walk down to where our cows are still grazing on pasture as the sun goes down. “Sometimes you’re like a wall, but the wall still has writing on it.”

“I should hope that you can read it, after 250 years.”

“Two-hundred fifty-three,” I smugly rectify, smiling up at my lover even as he rolls his eyes.

“Precisely,” says Louis, flashing a fang and squeezing my hand. He takes me to the shed where we pick up our tools, from brushes to hedge trimmers. Usually his magic would keep the grounds manicured, but I still love getting dirt under my nails and tending to my flowers. I’m lucky to have found a vampire so accommodating to my whims.

We share dinner together and I tell him about my day running around the estate, finding things that need doing and getting them done. There are still parts of the castle that are filled with dust and cobwebs after we moved in a decade ago, and I’m determined to bring them to light. Louis listens to me with interest and tells me of his business dealings with far-off merchants, which he’s been trying to include me in for a few generations. I’m finally coming around to the idea, despite being spiritually averse to mathematics and the thought of dealing with finances making me break out in hives.

“You’ll do marvellously,” Louis tells me, smiling at me from across our meal; it’s a human meal and it won’t sustain us, but the mushrooms are divine, if I do say so, myself.

I scoff, picking at the food in front of me. “You say that…”

“I mean it.”

“You need a head for finances if you’re to be a businessman.”

“Only if you deal with finances. I’ve long thought you would be a good businessman by charm and guile alone, regardless of your skill with maths.”

I cough around my wine, snorting softly. “That’s a very lovely way to say that I’d get by on looks alone.”

“You would not,” Louis snaps, tiring of my self-deprecation. “You are beautiful, yes, but clever besides, with an eye for business and a resourcefulness that kept you alive around me when I was at my worst. I will tolerate many things, my love, but down talk of yourself is something I will not.”

I avert my gaze, shamed and humbled all at once. “Even after all this time, I wonder why you—”

“Do not,” Louis firmly replies, pushing aside his plate and rising, “doubt my love for you. I would destroy this world and everything in it if it meant a better place for you to thrive.”

“Louis,” I sigh, allowing him to pull me up against his chest and nuzzling in at his broad chest. “I know it. I know it, my love. I’m sorry.”

“No,” murmurs Louis, kissing the top of my head and tucking me closer still. “Don’t apologise to me. Do better by yourself. That’s all that I ask.”

“I will,” I promise, looking up into his golden eyes and his fine, enigmatic features.

Louis smiles in the way that he only smiles for me, stroking along my back. “That is all that I ask,” he says again, and kisses me soundly.

[fanficimagery]

A Baby Spark

Imagine it being almost two years since you've seen your family. You've been through some changes since you've been gone and you're surprised at how well your family just seems to roll with the punches. Then again your little sister is exactly how you remember her either.

Words: 8.7K Author's Note: I'm a weakass bitch who loves a good crossover. Hopefully I did these two fandoms some justice. I'm warning you right now there's a little violence in here.

Pacing in front of the couch out back in the studio, Julie opens her mouth to say something but snaps it shut and shakes her head as she mumbles to herself. For about ten minutes now she's been like this and Luke, Reggie, and Alex can only stare at her with dread slowly creeping in.

"Is she having a breakdown or something?" Reggie asks quietly, eyes following her back and forth. "I've never seen her like this."

"I don't know, but I'm starting to feel queasy," Alex says.

Luke rolls his eyes. "It's Julie. It's nothing bad," he says. "We all know she works herself up over nothing."

"Okay!" All three boys startle, jumping in their seats and practically clinging to one another. When they realize what they've done, they quickly let go and attempt to act cool. "So my sister is coming down for a visit and dad thinks we should ease her into the secret of you guys being ghosts."

"Your sister?" Alex wonders, intrigued. "She finally got in touch?"

"Yeah." Julie slowly smiles. "She, uh, she sounded weird on the phone. Really emotional. But she said she's ready to be home for a bit."

"Well you said you haven't seen each other face to face in almost two years," Reggie says. "It's understandable that she'd be emotional."

"True." Julie shrugs. "Anyway, you guys need to remember no vanishing into thin air or appearing from thin air while in the same room as her. We can't have her asking questions until we're ready to tell her."

"I think we can handle that." Luke nods, looking at the boys. "At least I'm pretty sure we can."

Alex nudges him, scoffing. "Of course we can."

"Okay. Good. Because she's going to be here any minute now."

"WHAT?!"

"I thought we had more time!"

"Aw man," Reggie whines. "What do I wear?"

          - - - - - - - - - - 

You pull up to your childhood home about twenty minutes after the sun has set, excited to see your family and the boys who had reintroduced your baby sister to music after your mom had passed. You'd been keeping up with her via social media and was shocked to see her performing with holograms. Something about the holograms didn't quite add up, but you didn't question it seeing as your sister was thriving with her newfound friendships.

You've barely shut the door to your rented vehicle when the front door swings open, and your baby brother and baby sister are barreling down the porch. You laugh at their enthusiasm, opening your arms wide and bracing yourself for the impact. The moment they hit you, you bring your arms down around them. "Oh my god. You guys have grown so much!"

"Well that's what happens when you don't visit. We grow up."

"Carlos!" Julie quickly reprimands him. She then glances up at you, chuckling nervously. "He didn't mean that."

"Of course he did," you muse. "He's a Molina. And it's not like he's wrong."

But your sister isn't having it. "You had valid excuses- school and then you were really sick that one time. It's okay."

Sick, you mentally scoff, if only it were that simple.

"Right. Well I'm home now and I plan to visit whenever I can in the future," you say. Carlos and Julie beam at you. "So come on. I'm starving and I really want to see dad and meet these phantoms."

Carlos releases you and immediately turns to run back inside, and Julie latches onto your arm as she walks side-by-side with you. The closer you get to the porch, the more a faint scent on the air tickles your nose. Then once on the porch, it's a little bit stronger and it has you tensing.

Julie notices as she continues to walk, only to be pulled back from where she's still connected to you. "What's wrong?"

Staring off the side where you know the gate is for the backyard, your nostrils slightly flare, but at the sound of Julie's voice you close your eyes and shake your head to clear it. "Nothing. I'm fine," you mumble. "I just- I thought I smelled burning wire or something." Looking forward and then towards your sister, you chuckle. "My roommate started a fire a couple weeks back. It's made me paranoid ever since."

The lie comes a little too easily and you feel guilty. But then Julie snorts, you breathe a little easier, and then the two of you make the rest of the way inside the house. The smell of home makes your shoulders sag and feel like a weight's been lifted off of you. You glance around the living room, smiling softly at various touches you knew your mother added and the fact that your dad's kept them as reminders of the love of his life. There are three familiar, yet unfamiliar at the same time, faces sitting together on the couch. They stare at you, hesitant expressions on their faces until you smile and wave at them. The boy in a leather jacket is the first to smile back, waving, followed by the blonde and the shaggy haired brunette.

"That's Reggie, Alex, and Luke," Julie introduces them to you. "Guys, this is my older sister Y/N."

"Hey guys, it's nice to finally meet you face to face."

"Likewise," Alex says. "Julie's told us so much about you."

"Aw." You let go of Julie's arm just to wrap it around her head, she immediately struggling to get out of the headlock you put her in. You laugh, tugging on her curls. "You talk about me? Am I the cool older sister? You love me that much?" You tease her.

"Get. Off." Julie tries to shove you off, but the two of you just end up falling to the floor.

"Alright. Girl fight!" Reggie cheers. "I got money on the older Molina."

"I don't know," Alex muses. "Jules can be pretty feisty."

"Pft. No way." Carlos scoffs. "Y/N has this in the bag."

"How are you so freakishly strong?" Julie complains. "Did you start working out or something?"

"Or something," you laugh.

There's a sigh that has you looking up instantly. "You would think that my college-aged daughter would be adult enough to not wrestle her younger siblings on the floor."

"Dad!" Immediately you abandon your sister, flicking her forehead once for good measure, before launching yourself at your dad. "You're lookin' healthy, old man. The younger crotch goblins keeping you in line?"

"Hey!"

The boys laugh at Julie and Carlos' simultaneous shouts, and you wink at them before squeezing your dad a little bit longer. "How was the drive, mija?"

"It was fine," you say. "Long. And now I'm just ready to chow down."

"You have perfect timing then. The stew is ready, but now we're just waiting on Reggie's rolls to come out of the oven."

You dramatically gasp as you look towards the boy in question. "Not only is he cute, but he bakes too? Julie, you better husband that one up."

Two out of the three boys laugh as the other one frowns, and Julie rolls her eyes. "Shut up." Then looking out towards the group, she says, "Someone come help me set the table."

Your dad and Carlos head into the kitchen behind Julie, and you walk over towards the couch to sit on the armrest nearest Luke. Putting a hand on his shoulder, you squeeze. "Don't frown, biceps. I totally ship you and my sister. The two of you just ooze chemistry and I find it utterly adorable."

Alex groans. "Please don't say ooze again."

"Ooze," you deadpan. You look Alex in the eye. "Ooze. Ooze."

His nose wrinkles. "So you're the evil Molina. I know who Carlos takes after now."

All four of you chuckle and fall into a comfortable silence. However, as you sit there, you realize something odd. Everyone, human or not, has a scent. But these three boys next to you? There's no hint of B.O or cologne. Nothing. You frown as you stare at each one, at how human they appear to be, but before you can notice anything else your dad's calling out.

"Dinner's ready!"

You quickly paste on a smile as Luke and Reggie rush towards the kitchen. Alex sighs. "I would say sorry on their behalf, but then I'd be saying sorry the entire duration you're here because it's just how they are."

"I get it," you chuckle softly. "I have a friend like that. Stiles. He's- he's a lot to handle sometimes."

Dinner is quite the affair and you can't help but be in awe with how these three boys have brought life back into your home. When your mom passed, it was like the life was sucked out of everyone. There were no smiles, there was no laughing, and everyone seemed to lose interest in something. You almost didn't go back to school, instead choosing to look after Julie and Carlos, but from one day to the next it was like your dad snapped out of his grief and started looking after the kids again. So you went back to school, kept up with your schoolwork, got.. sick, and finally had enough strength to visit your family. You wanted it to be a happy family reunion, so you'll be damned if three charming boys took advantage of your family.

The following day is spent with just your family and a brief visit made by Flynn, but throughout the entire day you can't help but notice something is off. Every now and then it feels like the temperature drops or you have an overwhelming feeling of being watched or you catch Julie mumbling towards nothing but thin air. Your little sister acts highly suspicious, but she plays it off every time you call attention to it.

On your third day home, however, your family's been out grocery shopping when you decide to visit your mom's studio. It's the first time you've gone out back since you've been home, so of course the scent that first put you on edge hits you full force. Annoyance immediately sets in and you follow the musky scent which leads you to the studio. Hearing voices inside makes you freeze and you tilt your head to get a better listen.

The three voices are Luke, Reggie, and Alex, and while that should be weird since no one is home.. it's not the oddest thing. The oddest thing is that while you can hear them talking and the hum of their amps, that's all you hear. No heartbeats.

Pulling open the door, all three boys look like deer caught in headlights. "Hey, boys." You quirk an eyebrow at them, walking in and taking a little pleasure in watching them squirm. "Whatcha up to out here?"

"Oh, um," Alex stammers, "R-Ray lets us practice out here whenever we want."

"Mhm." You glance at Reggie, his demeanor entirely too soft to threaten. Instead you glance at Luke and realize he'll be the one revving for a fight if you go after the other two. So you set your sights on him. "I'm sure my mom would have adored you boys." Walking around Luke, you step close and trail a finger along the strap of his guitar. "Well at least she would have adored whatever it is you boys are." The boys all seem to cease breathing and quick as lightning you grab a fistful of Luke's shirt and bring his face close to yours. "So tell me, Luke, what are you?"

His eyes blow wide. "W-What? I'm a d-dude. Human!"

"Wrong answer." Eyes flash gold and you can feel the teeth in your mouth shifting. Luke seems to lose what little color he had left in his cheeks. "You have no scent. You have no heartbeat! So tell me what you are."

Luke gapes at you until all of a sudden he completely vanishes out of your grip. You growl, eyes darting all over the place.

"What am I? What the hell are you?!"

You whirl around, snarling, and startling all three boys. All three are gaping, staring wide-eyed as they take in the full picture of what you are. Of what you had to become. "Why are you messing with my family?"

You're so caught up with the boys that you're not listening to your senses and completely miss the fact that your family has gotten home. You're caught off guard as Julie walks through the studio door and you take a step back as Julie's erratic heart nearly makes you whine.

"I- what?" She mutters. You exhale shakily and you can feel your face shifting back to normal. "Y/N?"

"I can explain," you tell her softly. She stares at you, fear wafting off of her and making your nose itch. "But first your boys need to come clean. They're not exactly what they look like." All four- FOUR!- suddenly fidget nervously and your eyes narrow. "But you already knew that, didn't you?"

She numbly nods her head. "Yes. Dad and Carlos too. B-But it's nothing as crazy as whatever is going on with you." She gulps. "Which, by the way, what- what even are you?"

You sigh, backing up until you're plopping down onto an armchair. You gesture to the couch across from you and watch as the three boys keep themselves between you and Julie until they're all on the couch. "Remember when I was sick? And the doctor said I had a fifty-fifty chance of surviving?"

She frowns. "Yeah. But what-"

"He was lying to you. I didn't have a fifty-fifty chance. I was going to die. No ifs, ands, or buts about it."

"How would you know that?"

"Because my roommate could smell death on me," you say. Julie, Luke, Reggie, and Alex all blink at you. "The thing you need to know, Jules, is that pretty much every supernatural creature we grew up reading about is real."

Alex gulps. "Witches?" You nod.

"Vampires?" Luke starts to grin. You nod again.

"Werewolves?" Reggie wonders, awe already filling his features.

You glance at him and flash your eyes. "What do you think I am?" You muse. His eyes widen, but then a smile breaks out and you breathe a little easier. At least he won't be running from you. "Anyway, she literally smelled me rotting from the inside out. So when she really grew concerned, she went to one of her alphas and told him what was going on with me."

"Wait. One of her alphas?"

"Yeah." You shrug. "It's a whole pack, the Hale-McCall pack. There's two alphas within the ranks and instead of protecting one little town they decided to spread out. Scott protects Beacon Hills since that's where he lives and Derek came down south to expand our territory. We're kind of all spread out in California with two ally packs further up north."

"Okay so this is all interesting, but how does that explain how or why you changed?" Julie asks.

"Oh. Right." You sigh. "Well Cora- my roommate- didn't want me to die. She came to me and asked me that if there was a cure of sorts, a way that only granted me a fifty-fifty chance of survival rather than a hundred percent death, if I would take it. I asked for more of an explanation and she showed me what she was while explaining more about the supernatural world. So I said I wanted the cure. And then I met her brother Derek."

"Who and what is Derek?" Your sister asks.

"A werewolf. An alpha werewolf to be exact," you tell your audience. "Only the bite of an alpha werewolf can turn someone, but at that it's only a fifty-fifty chance. So I took it since it was more of a chance than I originally had and I became a beta werewolf."

"Is this why you stayed away?"

"I had to. Turning isn't as simple as it sounds. I had to learn control and I had to learn to protect myself. I might be stronger and faster and not entirely human, but there are people out there who train to kill people like me. It wasn't safe for any of us if I were to come so soon after becoming a werewolf."

Julie nervously shifts. "And it's safe now?"

"Yeah. We have some friends in the Hunter community, and Scott and Derek have been working hard to mend bridges between everyone. Since Derek approves of my control, he said it was okay for me to come."

Luke huffs. "You call this control? You attacked me."

"Can you blame me?" You raise an eyebrow at him. "I came home to find three individuals with no scent or no heartbeat practically living with my family, and the scent of another werewolf around my childhood home where my very human family still lives. What was I supposed to do?"

"Wait, what?" Julie's eyes blow wide. "There's been a werewolf around us?"

"Yeah. And speaking of," you say, "since these three appear to not be the culprits, has there been anyone hanging around? Staring longingly or just giving off the creepiest of vibes? The scent was maybe a few days old, but it's definitely werewolf."

Your sister shivers and crosses her arms over her chest as if to hug herself. "Not that I noticed."

You glance at the boys and all three shake their heads. "Keep an eye out then. That's kind of suspicious." Everyone nods. You inhale and then exhale deeply, looking at each individual. But as no one says anything, you lightly clear your throat. "So is anyone going to tell me what you three are or..?"

"Oh!" Julie leans forward, smiling softly. "Ghosts."

"Ghosts?"

"Ghosts!" Reggie disappears from his spot on the couch and reappears at your side. You faintly startle, but he still sees it and chuckles. "We kind of kicked the bucket about twenty six years ago now."

Luke sighs. "Street dogs, man. We can never look at them the same way ever again."

You snort and then slap a hand over your mouth as you stare at the boys with wide eyes. "I am so sorry. I didn't mean to laugh."

"Don't even worry about it," Alex says. "We've had some time to get over it and well now we have this cool gig with Julie so it's fine."

"Well either way I'm sorry you guys died, but I'm stoked you came into my family's life when you did."

The three boys beam, but Julie leans forward. "You know you have to tell dad, right? This is something dad needs to know."

"I know." You frown. "I just- how do I tell dad I'm not exactly human anymore?"

"Together." Julie smiles sadly at you. "We'll tell him together."

After calling an emergency family meeting the previous night, telling your dad and baby brother that werewolves existed was possibly the hardest thing you had to do. Out of the two of them, Carlos was most excited about all the new information you were offering up. But your dad, however, had a brief breakdown when you explained that you were literally going to die unless you had taken the bite from a werewolf. It had taken you almost ten minutes to calm him down, but you only made it a little bit worse when you told him there were rules now that the family knew the supernatural world existed.

Your dad and Carlos had tons of questions, and by the time dinner rolled around Ray just called in several pizzas so they could continue to grill you. Eventually things had settled and everyone went their separate ways to shower and get some sleep.

Then the day after that, you spend the day watching Julie and the boys rehearse because they got a last minute gig this coming Friday night. Even when they're goofing off they play amazingly and you praise them every moment you can. You're so caught up with your family and the boys that everything else is pushed to the back of your mind. And that's where it stays until after Julie and the Phantoms' performance three days later.

It's approaching midnight when you get home, you having rode with your family to and back from the club. It was the most fun you had in awhile, standing directly in front of the stage and screaming the lyrics back at your sister and Luke as they performed. And when you get home you and Julie are still singing along to one of her songs as you walk towards the front door, only to stumble to a halt when the scent of werewolf hits you full force.

"Mija, what's going on?"

"Shh!" You push Julie towards your dad and walk closer to the front door, eyes narrowing at the fact that it's cracked open when it should be locked. You put your nose close to the gap of the opened door and inhale deeply, eyes glowing gold in anger. There's a loud thump from inside and you whirl around to face your dad. He tenses as he eyes the fangs peeking from between your lips. "Get back in the car," you growl. "Do not get out until I come get you."

"Mija-"

"Do you understand?" You growl again, cutting him off. Your dad gulps and quickly nods, grabbing ahold of Carlos and Julie's hands to rush them away.

When you hear the car doors slam shut, the rummaging from inside your house stops. So before whoever is inside can flee, you brace yourself and walk inside. Slamming the door behind you, you open up your senses to tell you who or what is inside with you.

There's a warning growl from up above you and you snarl in response, not taking kindly to being warned off in your own home. Suddenly there are footsteps rushing towards the staircase and you lunge for them, bounding up the steps a few at a time. You meet the werewolf on the stairs, roaring at the sight of electric blue eyes glaring at you. He tries to leap over you, but you catch him by the ankle and tug him down with all your strength.

He's taller than you and more solid than you originally thought, so you mentally curse yourself when you can hear the staircase creak and crack as you fall down the stairs with him. Taking a boot to the gut, you swing out to claw him down his thigh. You draw first blood, but then the werewolf rounds on you with his teeth and claws bared. He lunges, catching you around the waist and slams your back down on the stairs. You grunt in pain, punching and clawing, but only earn a set of claws being dragged down the side of your face in return.

You hear him grunt, followed by a large crack, and your eyes fly open wide when you feel a thin pole from the wooden bannister be shoved into your gut. You roar out, completely shocked at this wolf's aggressiveness, and your saving grace comes in the form of three ghosts.

Alex, Luke, and Reggie pop in, startling the werewolf hovering above you. Their exclamations of pure joy quickly turn to ones of surprise and fear, and you use this brief reprieve to summon all your rage and push back. Once your feet are back beneath you, you shove the wolf back and against a wall. One hand goes around his throat and you use the other to shove your claws into his gut.

"What.. do you want.. with my family?" You ask, shoving your claws in deeper with each pause. The werewolf growls and easily overpowers you, shoving you back and fleeing through the back door.

When you get back to your feet, you attempt to run after him but Reggie rushes in front of you. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Where do you think you're going?!"

"Reg, get out of my way," you seethe.

"Nope. No way. In case you haven't noticed, you've been impaled!" His hands flail in the direction of your abdomen. "Shouldn't you like go to the hospital or something?"

"I'll heal." You grab the wooden pole protruding from your body, grasping it tightly and yanking it free.

Reggie gags and you let it drop, only to then be approached by Luke." Y/N, where's Jules? And Carlos and your dad?"

At the mention of your family, the haze of rage starts to fade. You breathe deeply, letting the aches and pain take over as your features shift back to normal. "They're in the car," you say. "Can you go get them? I need to check upstairs to see what that asshole was doing."

"For sure."

As Luke poofs away, you turn back towards the stairs and make your way up them. You follow the scent of werewolf and when you find where it leads your rage comes back ten-fold. Shoving your way in Julie's room, you snarl when you find the strange scent by her dresser, in her closet, and on her bed. You catch whiffs of his scent on random items and you tense when there's a shout of your name from downstairs.

Realizing it's only your dad, you give yourself a moment to make sure you have yourself under control before making your way downstairs. "I'm sorry about the staircase," you say. "I'll call someone in the morning to come estimate the damages and fix it." Everyone is oddly quiet and when you meet their gazes, you see half are on your face and the other are on your stomach. "Relax. It'll heal."

"Will it?" Ray asks. He walks forward, gently cupping your face and angling it so he can get a better look.

"Yeah. It's already stopped bleeding. Now all they gotta do is close up."

"Okay." Your dad gulps. "Did you- did you figure out what was going on?"

"Some rogue werewolf," you tell him. "Normally I wouldn't worry because it's normal for a werewolf to scope out another werewolf in their territory, but this one was only in Julie's room. He didn't go near mine. Something's up."

Luke wraps an arm around Julie's shoulder as she gasps and Ray worriedly glances at his daughter. Carlos steps up on Julie's other side, grabbing her hand and looking every bit determined to keep her safe.

"What can we do?" Luke asks.

"Well for starters," you sigh, "everyone can take a chill pill. Go change, go shower, and go to sleep. I'll clean up and I'll call in reinforcements. I hope you guys are ready to meet my alpha."

"Are you sure, mija?" Your dad asks.

"Yeah. I'm too amped up to do anything other than keep watch and my alpha is necessary since this rogue werewolf easily overpowered me. I'm still new to this whole supernatural business, so it's better if someone more experienced comes in."

Ray and Carlos hesitantly make their way towards the stairs, but as Julie moves she makes a lunge for you. Her arms wrap around you and yours her, and you rub the side of your jaw along her temple. "You're going to be okay," you mumble. "Trust me."

"I do."

Luke and Reggie readily follow your family upstairs, but Alex lingers. You look at him, smiling softly. "Are you sure you're okay?" He asks. "You literally had a pole sticking out of your stomach."

"I'm fine, Al." You lift up your shirt, showing him the barely there hole. "See? It's closing. The healing process is just a little slow for me because I'm a bitten werewolf, not born."

"Oh. Okay. Cool." His hands go into his pockets as he glances around the room nervously. "So do you want some company?"

"Sure." You chuckle softly. "But first, I have a call to make."

Alex follows you into the kitchen where you lean tiredly against the island counter, putting your phone down on the counter top as you look for a specific contact and then put your phone on speaker as to not be rude to your guest. It rings a couple of times before the line clicks open.

"Y/N? What's wrong?" Derek's gruff voice makes you smile and Alex's eyes widen.

"Why would you think something is wrong, Der?"

"Because you told us not to contact you until your two weeks with your family were up. You still have another week with them and you're calling me. In the middle of the night. So again I'll ask, what's wrong?"

You sigh and this time it's Alex's turn to grin at you. "So I might have a problem."

Derek groans. "What did you do this time?"

You open your mouth to play off the seriousness of the situation, but after the night you had you're just not feeling. So you snap your mouth shut and sigh once more. "When I first got here, I smelled a werewolf around the house," you say. "I didn't think anything of it because it was faint, but tonight I found the werewolf in my little sister's room. We fought and he fled. I have an uncomfortable feeling about this, Der."

A moment passes in silence before Derek says, "We're on the way."

"Okay, but before you come to the rescue there's something you need to know." He doesn't say anything, but the line is still connected so you know he's waiting. "So you know how we always said something was odd about my sister's holograms?"

"Yeah?"

"Well funnily enough, they're ghosts! But don't worry," you're quick to cut off an inevitable rant, "there's nothing fishy or any ulterior motives. These guys are good, pure, and goofy. Please don't start anything."

There's a heavy exhale and then, "We'll see."

"Bring food!" You're quick to toss in, grinning that you got that in before the call ended. Alex stares at you and you roll your eyes playfully at him. "Relax. It's going to be fine."

Derek and the others could have been there within a few hours, but they didn't want to be rude and show up while your family was sleeping. You texted back and forth with Cora after Derek spilled the ghost secret, and you laughed when she mentioned she was excited to meet them because your little sister's music was quite catchy.

When you hear your family starting to stir awake, you send off a quick text to Derek to let him know that it was okay for them to finally come over. And to bring food because there's not enough to feed three werewolves, three ghosts, and three humans in the house.

Carlos is the only one who looks well rested, Ray and Julie looking like they tossed and turned all night. Luke, Reggie, and Alex poof into the room and you tiredly nod at them.

"Did you get any sleep?" Your dad asks.

"Nah. I've been keeping watch and keeping in contact with the pack," you say. "Derek and Cora are on the way, and Scott said to let him know if we needed him. The rest of the pack would come if needed."

"Mhm. Is there anything we need to know about this Derek and Cora?"

You glance around at your family and ghosts, and sigh when they're waiting for some sort of answer. "Just that they had a really traumatic event happen when they were younger, so if they're not exactly warm in the beginning don't take it personal."

Reggie leans forward in his seat. "Mhm. How traumatic are we talking?"

"Like their entire family was trapped in their home and burned alive traumatic." Everyone's eyes widen and you wince. "Yeah. A bunch of other stuff happened, but it's confusing and not everything is black and white as you may think. I just rather not delve too deep into their personal business moments before you meet them."

After a few lingering moments, Carlos is the first to mention he's hungry. Your dad says he'll get started on breakfast, but you stop them before they can even make it to the kitchen. Then before you can explain why making food isn't necessary, the doorbell rings and everyone freezes.

"I'll, um, I'll just get that."

Hurrying to the door, you open it up and smile in relief at the sight of your two favorite Hales.

"We come bearing McDonald's," Cora says. "We also might have pissed off a long line of cars because we bought out all their sausage biscuits and hash browns."

You laugh. "And I bet you cackled as you drove off."

"She did," Derek deadpans.

You shake your head and then step out of the way, gesturing the two Hales inside. You shut the door behind them and when you turn around to follow them you find that you don't have to go far. Everyone is just standing around, staring at the two newcomers and you shake your head. "What are you all doing out here? Get into the kitchen! I want to eat."

Carlos steps forward, staring up at Derek and Cora with a curious expression. "So werewolves, huh? And you're the one who bit my sister?" Derek tenses, but nods nonetheless. "Well thanks for saving her, but now I'll never beat her in a wrestling match. Can someone biscuit me so I can eat my feelings?"

You snort just as Cora cracks a grin and she walks forward while gesturing for Carlos to follow her into the kitchen. Derek stays put and you step up to his side, nodding up at him before looking out. "So," you start, looking at everyone else, "I'd like you guys to meet alpha Derek Hale. Der, this is my dad, my sister Julie, Carlos followed after Cora, and then we have Alex, Reggie, and Luke."

Everyone gave some form of acknowledgement as they were introduced and Derek sticks his hand out for your dad. "It's nice to finally meet you, sir. I'm just sorry it's under these circumstances."

Ray grasps onto his hand and shakes it. "Ditto."

"Okay," you drawl. "Now that the awkward introductions are over with, can we eat?"

Everyone walks into the kitchen then, you nudging your sister and chuckling at her wariness. Then once in the kitchen, you introduce everyone to Cora as well. The food is passed out and it feels like you're smiling encouragingly at everyone because they're intimidated by Derek's mere presence.

When everyone appears to be done with their food, it's Derek who clears his throat. "So do you wanna know why there's a werewolf interested in Julie now or later?"

The table falls silent and it's Julie who finally addresses him. "Wait. You already know? Without snooping around?"

Derek looks at her and smiles kindly which sets your heart a flutter. You're not stupid, you're well aware just how attractive your alpha is, but you never let yourself cross that line. Cora, however, has no problems teasing you about it, nudging you and smirking. You glare at her and return your attention to Derek. "I do. I'm not surprised Y/N didn't pick up on it, but I am surprised my sister hasn't mentioned anything."

Cora stops her teasing them, brows furrowed as she looks at her brother. "What?"

Derek pushes back from the table and offers his hand for Julie. "I'm sorry this might be uncomfortable for you, but will you join us over here?" she quickly glances at you and your dad, and your dad nods at her. She gets up and joins Derek at his side, and he gently grabs her arm to hold between you and Cora. "Focus on Julie's scent. Who does she remind you of?"

Cora's more in tune with her senses, so it doesn't take her long to pick up on what her brother is suggesting. It takes you a minute and when her scent has fully engulfed you, your eyes fly open. "How did I miss that?"

"M-Miss what?" Your sister stammers, pulling her arm back.

Cora glances between Julie and her brother, and you shake your head. "It's impossible. Stiles is a.." you trail off and Derek quirks an eyebrow at you, grinning.

"Excuse me," Luke pipes up, "but who and what the hell is a Stiles?"

Derek and Cora snort, and your gaze darts between Luke, Reggie, Alex, and your sister.

"Mija, what's going on?" Ray asks.

You gulp as realization slowly settles in. Looking at Julie, you ask, "They used to be invisible, right?"

"Yeah."

"But then they were cursed by another ghost, almost jolted out of existence, and you pulled them to you at the Orpheum. You wanted them and they appeared, and then by some weird happenstance you didn't want them to go and the curse was lifted. You were finally able to touch and everyone could see them."

Julie frowns at you. "You knew this already. What does that have to do with-"

"You're a Spark."

"What?"

Ray glances between both his daughters. "What's a Spark and how bad is this?"

You're left blinking at your sister in awe, so Derek takes over once more. "A Spark is someone with magical abilities, sir. When trained properly, they're a force to be reckoned with. They're highly sought after because they're not as neutral as a pack Emissary and can offer a hell of a lot more protection than an Emissary."

"Mhm. And what's an Emissary?"

"It's someone who offers advice and keeps peace during pack meetings," you say. "They're limited in their knowledge and magical abilities, but a Spark.. a Spark is so much more."

"So that's why this werewolf was sniffing around the house?" Ray asks. "Because he could smell the magic coming off Julie?"

"Yes." Derek tells him honestly. You can hear Julie's heartbeat pick up speed and you're quick to stand and wrap her in a hug. "If he's an Omega, which I believe he is since no one else came back when he faced off against Y/N, I think he wants to grow his own pack."

"And having a Spark within his pack would look good when recruiting others," Cora says.

Ray sighs. "What do we do?"

"Honestly? Julie needs to harness her power and learn how to use it."

"What? No!"

"Dad." You look towards him, frowning. "Derek's right. Julie is full of untapped potential and you do not want the wrong person training her. We can help."

Your dad sighs some more, rubbing his hand down his face. Finally he looks at Julie. "What do you want to do, mija? This is your life we're talking about here."

Everyone seems to hold their breath as Julie glances at every person she's come to love. But before she can say anything, Cora speaks up. "Before any decisions are made, I think we need to make sure Julie is a Spark." She then looks at your little sister. "Would you be willing to complete a test? There's no pain, no questions, just simple concentration."

You sister shrugs. "I guess so."

Julie is still apprehensive as Cora exits the room, so you rub her arm up and down. "It's going to be okay." You smile reassuringly at her. "If you truly are what we think you are, I think you might enjoy this. I know Carlos will."

Your baby brother perks up and you grin at him. You're quick to clear away the trash and are done just as Cora re-enters the room. She drops a duffel bag atop the table and Derek opens it up, pulling on a pair of gloves before he removes a vial full of black powder.

"What's that?" Luke asks.

"Mountain ash." Derek explains. "Create a closed barrier with this and no supernatural creature can cross it."

"And the rest?" Reggie wonders, peeking into the bag. Several vials clink together and he's quick to back off.

"Wolfsbane," you tell him. "It's lethal to us, but if we're shot or nicked with a weapon that holds a certain strain of this stuff, we figure out which strain it is and burn the ash that we have on hand to press into our wounds. For some reason it counteracts the effects."

"But in order to see if Julie truly is a Spark," Derek says, pulling everyone's attention back to the main topic, "we need her to create a barrier of mountain ash around Cora."

Julie quickly glances at you and you give her a nod. She walks towards Derek and Cora, and Derek opens up the vial to pour a small mound of black ash in the center of her palm. Julie glances up at him in surprise and then at the space around Cora's feet. "That's all you're giving me?"

"That's all you get."

Julie glances at you again and the panic is clear in her eyes. "Relax," you say. She gulps. "Relax," you say again, softer. "Inhale and exhale, Jules." She does as you say and after a couple of deep breaths, you say, "Now close your eyes. Form a loose fist and believe that you have all the ash you need there in the center of your hand as it tips out while walking a circle around Cora."

Julie's eyes fly open as she scoffs. "Seriously?"

"Seriously." You grin. "Magic is all about belief. Now close your eyes and concentrate. You have to want to close this circle. Do it."

Again everyone seems to hold their breath as Julie closes her eyes and shakes herself out. She takes a few deep breaths, letting them out slowly. You can practically see the moment her mind clears, her expression going slack right before she tips her fist and the ash starts to fall. She walks in an unsteady circle, her brow furrowing halfway around. She unknowingly walks the entire circle, her eyes flying open as she groans. "This is dumb."

"Is it?" Cora wonders. She raises her hand and goes to touch Julie, but her hand hits an invisible wall that shimmers a faint blue before fading.

Julie glances down, her eyes widening before she looks at you. "It worked?"

"It worked," you assure her. Everyone seems to scramble up from their seats then, gathering around Julie and Cora. You snort as Carlos and Reggie easily put their hands inside the circle, but Cora has no such luck of reaching out of it. You raise your eyebrow at that. "Well at least we know mountain ash doesn't work on ghosts."

"Um, how do we get her out now?" Julie nervously wonders.

"You or any other human can just drag the toe of your shoe through it. It'll break the circle."

"Cool!" Carlos readily drags his socked toe through the ash and Cora laughs as she steps out of the circle.

"So what happens now?" Alex asks, glancing between his newfound family a bit nervously.

"Now we find her a mentor," Derek says. "And a pack because without one-" he says, cutting off your dad, "it'll just be a matter of time before another werewolf comes looking. Or something worse."

"We, uh, we know a Spark," you say, glancing at Derek who gives you a nod to continue. "Stiles. He's obnoxiously smart and powerful, and unfortunately he refuses to leave alpha McCall's side long term. But since we're basically in the same pack, he'll visit and help mentor Julie if we ask."

"What about a pack?" She frowns. "I don't want to join a bunch of strangers."

"Then join the Hale pack," Derek says after a beat. You and Cora look at him in surprise, but he only has eyes for your baby sister and dad. "We can locate further south so Julie doesn't have to leave anyone behind."

"Der, are you serious?" You shakily ask.

He glances at you and smirks. "Of course. We'll start house hunting if your sister agrees."

You glance at Julie and her eyes are wide. A moment passes and then she looks at you, a relieved smile taking over. "Yeah. Uh, yeah. I'll join if it's okay with my dad?"

Everyone looks at Ray. "Why do I get the feeling my grocery bill just got a whole lot higher?"

You, Cora, and Derek laugh. "Don't worry, dad. As alpha, it's Derek's job to provide for the pack."

Over the next couple of days, Derek and Ray spend a lot of time in Ray's office- the alpha filling in your dad about pack politics since Julie was still so young. Stiles has already been called, but he had a few things to take care of before he could make the trip down south. So until then, you, Derek, and Cora were going to be staying with your family. Derek took to searching for a new pack house while you and Cora happily told the younger generation about your favorite pack stories.

Julie, Ray, and Carlos have a chaperone everywhere they go, but surprisingly no one complains. You and Cora had to take a brief leave from school, citing family emergencies, and you spend the newfound time protecting your family.

Unfortunately, before Stiles can show up and lay protection wards around the house, the omega werewolf strikes again. Fortunately, however, your dad is with Carlos at one of his baseball games so they're not there to witness the brief brawl.

You and Cora are sitting on the back balcony, listening to Julie and the boys rehearse. Derek had gone for a quick jog around a few blocks, most likely scenting the area for anything out of the norm, and you were in charge of holding down the fort. But the comfort of your house and the fact that nothing had recently happened made you let your guard down, and the opposing werewolf was smart enough to stay down wind.

But then there's glass shattering, the music suddenly cuts out, and Julie's shout pierces through her still live microphone. Without second guessing yourselves, you and Cora get up and jump over the balcony railing. You both land in a crouch, faces immediately transformed, growling. You're quick to straighten up, running towards the studio and throwing open the door.

Julie is huddled into Alex's side with Reggie and Luke brandishing their guitars as weapons in front of them. The werewolf in question is nearly six feet tall with electric blue eyes and a lean build. He's more clean-cut than you remember, but it's the same wolf you saw inside your house. It's a quiet stare-off, but the moment your eyes track to the completely shattered bay windows at the back of the studio a snarl rips free.

"Walk towards us," Cora says. "Do not turn your back on him."

The moment Julie takes a step back, the other werewolf growls and shifts in agitation.

"Try it and you're dead," you seethe.

There's a moment of hesitation and then he's lunging. Cora lunges for the male werewolf while you lunge for your sister, you shoving her and Alex aside. Luke and Reggie are quick to poof out of the way, and then reappear at the couch where Alex and Julie are huddled together. The snarling of Cora and the other werewolf keeps you on edge, and you join your packmate in clawing and shoving, and making sure you do not damage your mom's beloved studio too much.

You and Cora receive a few blows and gashes of your own, but Julie's frantic heartbeat has the two of you fighting for her. You try to fight with all your might, but you know you're in trouble when you and Cora both show obvious signs of tiring whereas the male werewolf still looks as anxious as ever to get his hands on your sister.

A mistake on your part has the male werewolf taking the upper hand, he kicking Cora away and grabbing you by your throat. The sudden action startles you and your lack of air makes you panic. So instead of using your full strength to break his hold, you claw at the hand squeezing your throat.

"Stop. Stop!" Julie pleads.

But her cries fall on deaf ears and it takes the roar of an alpha to startle the male werewolf into dropping you. 

As you gasp for air and scramble towards your sister, you look towards the studio doors to see Derek standing there with glowing red eyes. Derek, half transformed, is completely more terrifying than either you or Cora, and even though you're part of Derek's pack you can't help the uptick of your heartbeat at the power radiating off him.

"The girl is under protection of the McCall-Hale pack," Derek growls. "In fact, this entire territory is now ours. You have until sunrise to be gone or I'll rip your throat out with my teeth if any of us ever see you again."

The werewolf has the audacity to growl at Derek, but you and Cora are quick to flank your alpha. The two of you growl threateningly behind his back and as the opposing werewolf glances between the three of you, he grunts and slowly backs away towards the window he'd thrown himself through.

The second he's gone, Derek leans towards Cora. "Follow him. Make sure he leaves." A growl rumbles from her chest to show she understands and a moment later she's disappearing out the same damaged window. Derek takes a deep breath and let's it out before looking over at your sister. "You okay?"

Reggie blinks and then huffs softly. "Well I think I ghost peed a little, but I'm fine."

"Same, dude," Luke nods. "That was intense."

Your werewolf features fade as you fail to contain your laugh, Alex then glancing over at his friends. "You guys are so lucky you can play instruments and sing."

Julie giggles and you step forward to lean against Derek's arm. "I'm pretty sure Der was talking to my sister."

"Oh."

"Oh."

"I'm fine," Julie says. "But he's not- he won't come back, will he?"

"Not unless he wants an alpha to rip him to shreds," you tell her.

"I'm gonna follow after Cora and make sure the rogue is gone. You good here?"

You glance up at Derek and nod. "Yeah. We're good." Derek smirks at you and you roll your eyes, nudging him to go. After a moment he jogs out of the studio, no doubt following Cora's scent. Someone clears their throat and you glance back at your far too amused sister. "What?"

"So.." she drawls, "care to explain what that just was?"

"What what was?" You ask.

Luke starts to smile. "You totally have a thing for the scary wolf." Alex and Reggie eagerly nod in agreement.

"What? I do not."

"You totally do," Julie says.

"Oh whatever." You roll your eyes, willing yourself not to blush or smile. You'd be damned if you let them in on that particular secret crush, even though you were pretty sure it was mutual. "We have more important things to discuss like fixing the window and informing dad of what went on without freaking him out."

Julie's smile slowly fades. "Are things always going to be intense like what we just saw?"

"I hate to break it to you, baby girl, but yes. Sometimes worse."

"Oh great."

"But you're going to be a total badass," you assure her as you walk towards her. You kneel in front of her, taking her hands in your own. "Stiles is the best and he will make sure you know everything to protect yourself and those close to you. And besides, you'll have three badass werewolves just a few blocks over. You won't be alone."

"Are you sure? I'm still kind of young. I don't want to put your pack in any danger."

You shake your head. "You won't. I don't mean to brag, but the Hale name carries some weight. Scott kind of made a name for himself as well, so when everyone finds out you're under our protection it'll be okay. Trust me, sis. It won't always be this scary."

"Well as long as you're positive."

"I am. Now come on." You let go of her hands and pat the tops of her thighs as you stand. "Let's go find something to eat and call Stiles. We'll see if he can speed up his trip out here."

[stillebesat]

Meeting Virgil (5x1) -Third Time

Sanders Shorts: Remy Sanders Sides: Virgil Blurb: A Special Delivery Prequel. -Five times Remy tried to give Virgil a child and the one time he succeeded. Inspiration: @book-of-charlie​ asked: What did Virgil mean by “the last 5 times?” Fic Type: STORK!AU, Winged!Remy Chapter Warnings: Implied Neglectful Parents, Implied Miscarriage Taglist in Reblog. To Catch Up: First Time Second Time

Little Lacey was going to change the world. Remy knew it from the moment the baby girl’s eyes had lit up upon seeing him and his wings. From the second she had opened her mouth and let out the most contagious laugh he’d ever heard.

Even now, as he wound his way through the golf course parking lot crowded with stalls and people waiting for the fireworks to start on the hill above them, Lacey drew smiles from everyone standing nearby with that contagious bubbling laughter as she bounced in his arms.

He’d been tempted to put her to sleep when the twin lines of green and purple he’d been following led straight into this noisy place with music blaring, kids screaming, and the smell of popcorn and cotton candy thick in the air. First impressions with new parents hardly went well if the baby was screaming their head off after all, yet Lacey apparently loved the chaos surrounding them. She’d perked right up, her giggles ringing in his ear before he’d even landed.

There was no doubt. Despite her previous parents’ best attempts to treat her like a forgotten dusty doll in a china cabinet, Lacey thrived in having everyone’s attention focused on her. For being in the limelight. Yes. Remy knew she would change the world once she was older if the way everyone cooed -from the lady waiting in line with her son to get their face painted to the burly motorcycle dude that looked like he could tear your head off with his pinky- at her was any indication.

It was attention that Remy wasn’t exactly used to dealing with himself anymore. Usually his S.T.O.R.K. duties took him to places that were...quieter...more…secluded environments. One on Two situations where he could meet the new parents away from watching eyes, give them their new bundle of joy and then take off soon after their bond was established.

“Oh, isn’t she precious!” A grandmother cooed at Lacey, her hands twitching with the obvious old person urge to pinch the baby’s cheeks as she gave Remy a warm smile. “You’re one lucky fella having such a beautiful daughter!”

His stomach did a little uncomfortable flip flop at that. It wasn’t the first time he’d been mistaken as a parent, but it always threw him off when people assumed he was capable of such a feat when growing up it had felt like everyone expected him to die before he reached twenty.

According to Larry and Dot, however, despite the years he’d spent ferrying babies around -and getting them to their parents without issue...well, major issues-- he was still quite ‘rough around the edges.’

Ha.

He’d like to see them say that when faced with the burly motorcycle dude two stalls over. He couldn’t be that rough acting anymore.

Probably.

Maybe.

Eh.

Remy shook his head, wings twitching against his back as he grinned at the woman, glad his metallic green eyes were hidden behind his sunglasses. “She’s adorable alright, but I’m just watching her for a friend while they grab a bite to eat.” He tilted his head to the twin lines that led towards the other side of the food stalls beyond the lady as Lacey giggled in his ear, nuzzling her head into his shoulder.

The words flowed easily enough off his tongue, despite the bitter taste they left. Lying wasn’t really a thing with S.T.O.R.K.s hence his...technical truth. He was watching Lacey, though friend might be a bit strong of a word when he’d never met the parents before. But he was planning to grab some of those delectable chicken strips he could smell afterwards. So yah...basically the truth.

He was good at that.

Larry and Dot would visibly roll their eyes but quietly smile their approval at his ability to find and exploit loopholes.

The grandmother’s eyes grew softer as Lacey wiggled, reaching fingers grabbing onto the feathers her little hands could reach. “How sweet.” She murmured, placing a hand over her heart.

Did she mean Lacey or the fact Remy was ‘watching’ her? He sighed internally, keeping the smile in place with effort. He’d never been the greatest at interacting with old people who would ‘dear me’ and ‘oh my’ him to death if he accidentally slipped and swore in front of them.

“Mhmmm, if you’ll excuse me.” He gave her a nod, wings pressing harder against his back as he edged around her, waving one hand over his head like he was acknowledging someone in the distance and quickly vanished into the crowd, following the green and purple ribbons that would lead him to Lacey’s future family.

Still both glowing with the exact same shade of brightness. Still unknown just which one would end up with little Lacey’s shining personality in their lives.

Well. He paused as the two colored ribbons finally diverged. The Purple leading to the right to where the sun had just set. Green leading to the left to where hundreds of people were sitting, waiting for the show in the sky.

Both options meant still more people. But with the brightness being so close, he’d have to scope out both possibilities first before making a decision.

He exhaled, trying to remain relaxed as the crowd brushed by him, his wings trembling against his back. It wasn’t like anyone could see his wings so he had nothing to fear about being mobbed for his feathers. But still. The constant press of people unknowingly touching them had him on edge.

“Purple first.” He mumbled, adjusting his grip on Lacey as she sat back up, clapping her hands together with a squeal as he moved them closer to a brightly colored bouncy house. It wasn’t like the Edgelord would be here among the Good Old Rocky Mountains when he lived on the opposite side of the country, but it would be best to confirm that first.

With how quickly ‘Virge’ had vanished that night in the woods, it wouldn’t surprise him if the poor guy was still lost in the backwaters of Virginia.

No. Probably not. He seemed resourceful enough...unless he’d gotten himself captured by a Mothman colony--did they have colonies or were they more of a solitary creat--

Remy unexpectedly broke through the crowd, coming out where a line of porta-potties stood like quiet stinky sentinels in the fading light.

And there, right where the purple line ended, stood Mr. Not-a-Good-Dad himself in all his gothic glory. Wearing a black tank top that showed off his arms, artistically torn jeans, and purple dyed hair falling into his storm colored eyes.

Remy’s heart skipped a beat as he stumbled to a stop, rapidly blinking to clear his vision of this impossible mirage. “No. Fu--Freaking. Way.” He breathed, staring at Virge just as the guy reached down and picked up a little girl who couldn’t have been more than four or five years old, easily balancing her on his hip like he’d done this exact action multiple times before, speaking softly to her as he brushed the tears from her wet cheeks with his thumb.

Remy swallowed, bouncing Lacey as she wiggled in his grip. Lost maybe? Had to be. He couldn’t see the bonding lines between the two of them for all that Virge looked like a Father patiently calming his distressed child.

Of course, that didn’t rule out the possibility that she was his cousin, or even a niece or some kid of a friend. He would need to get closer to the girl to know for sure if there was any connection between the two.

Remy shrugged, drawing in a steadying breath. Well. Better make his move now rather than later. “Well, Laceyloo” He said, giving the girl a wink as he moved forward. “Ready to try your luck with our resident Emo?”

Didn’t the saying go that the ‘third time's the charm’ or something? With how adorably cute she was...and with how comfortable Virge seemed with this other little girl, perhaps Lacey’s laughter would be the key to convincing Dark and Brooding to accept his obviously destined role as a Father.

One could hope.

“Hey Stranger.” He called, pushing his sunglasses up into his hair as the Edgelord jumped like he’d just been electrocuted, causing the little girl to cry out and cling to him as stormy grey eyes met Remy’s metallic green ones.

Virge glowered at him even as his hands moved to soothe the girl, low words leaving his lips as she buried her head against his chest, his stormy eyes only softening as Lacey sat upright in Remy’s arms and gave him a tiny wave of her hand and a delighted giggle.

“Hey.” He said, still focused on Lacey, a myriad of conflicting expressions crossing his face.

Hook.

Remy moved a deliberately casual step closer, wings fluttering with anticipation. “Fancy meeting you here.” He made a show of looking around. “Does Mothman usually attend this sort of thing?”

Virge rolled his eyes, glancing at the girl in his arms before focusing back on Remy. “Slenderman actually.”

A what? Remy paused, glancing at the sniffling girl with a raised eyebrow. “Really?” She didn’t look like a...whatever a Slenderman was.

Another thing he’d have to go look up if these encounters with V-man were gonna continue and he kept insisting on referencing random fantasy cryptid creatures that Remy had barely heard of.

That way he would be more prepared next time.

If there was a next time.

If Lacey failed to work her magic.

Which she wouldn’t.

Because she was Lacey the Amazing and this was their lucky third encounter. So of course he wouldn’t be seeing his stubborn Emo Nightmare again.

Unfortunately.

Virge snorted. “No. She wouldn’t be considered one if I was. Lily here has lost her parents. I’m helping her find them. Right Lily?”

The child glanced up, face tear-streaked, bright brown eyes shimmering with more tears waiting to fall. “They’re gone.” She whimpered.

“And we’ll find them.” Virge assured, voice going soft. “Remember? You were telling me what your Mommy was wearing. A pretty pearl necklace right? Her favorite that you can’t yet wear?”

She sniffled, nodding. “Yah.”

Remy shook his head. Well that was a helpful description.

Not.

Still. Edgelord had shown more patience with the crying kid than most strangers would in this sort of situation. “A necklace.” He repeated. “Like you’ll be able to see that in the dark.”

Virge rolled his eyes. “It’s more help than you’re currently being, Eagle One. Plus I am listening for anyone calling her name.”

“Mhmm in this crowd? The parents would need to scream quite loud.” He took another step closer, smiling as Lily and Lacey made eye contact, the baby in his arms wiggling as Lily straightened with a “Hi you!” as she waved at Lacey. “No, It sounds like you need help from an Expert.” He said, spreading out his wings, flapping them once.

A bad decision really with how many people were around that he could have hit, though the surprised sound Virge made as he lifted a hand, taking an automatic step closer as his grey eyes darted to the people continuing by made it well worth it.

He froze as Lacey laughed, making grabby hands at his wings and Lily gasped a soft “Angel?” leaving her lips, her brown eyes growing bright with awe.

A S.T.O.R.K. But he wouldn’t begrudge the child for her confusion. Remy nodded to Lily, bouncing Lacey in his arms. “I’m here to help you Lils. We’ll find your parents.”

This close he could see easily her parent line--the same Green one he’d been following earlier ironically enough, because of course it would be the same fu-freaking line he’d followed all the way here, winding its way upwind of the porta-potties to a low hill with a couple shade trees at the top. Well, if it didn’t work out with Mr. Reluctant here, at least it appeared Lily already liked her potential new baby sister if their shared giggles and fascination with his wings was anything to go by.

Virge stared beyond Remy, watching the crowd, growing more tense the longer everyone else continued walking by without reacting. “They can’t--” He whispered.

“See them? No.” Remy folded his wings, unwilling to keep them open and exposed around so many individuals now that he’d made his point. “Betcha that’s why people don’t usually see your Mothman either.” Probably. It had to be a magic related thing. Or belief thing. A blending ability? Were S.T.O.R.K.s like Mothmen? Bigfoot? Vampi--oh, yah no….his wings pressed against his back. If it turned out Vampires and Werewolves and Mothmen were actually real only then would he have a mental breakdown over maybe being in the same category as mythical creatures. Right now. He had to focus. Find Lily’s parents. Give Lacey to the Edgelord and walla. Mission accomplished.

Virge slowly shook his head, shifting Lily against his side before he rubbed the back of his neck. “No, there's been enough credible sightings of Mothmen by people to discount that theory.” He said, shrugging one shoulder. “It may explain why, when people talk about their encounters with Angels, that they rarely mention them with wings though.”

Remy rolled his eyes. “Not an Angel, V-man. I already told you. I’m a--”

“Stork. Yes. But are you sure that’s not a type of Angel?” He asked, eyes gleaming in the faint light given by the lamp posts. “You bring babies to parents who want children right? You’re willing to help me find this girl’s parents. Therefore a Stork could be a subset of Guardian Angels.”

Huh.

“...You been thinking on this alot?” Remy asked faintly.

Which One. It shouldn’t thrill him that Gothica incarnate was thinking about him. And Two. Questioning his so-called ‘Angelhood’ was definitely not going to keep him up all night regardless of how this encounter ended. An Angel? HIM?! Ha. Larry and Dot would have a conniption that their troubled ward was considered some sort of goodie two shoes Guardian Angel.

Maybe.

Else Larry would tear up, crush him in a hug, and start blubbering Dadisms of ‘being so proud’ and Dot would pat him firmly on the back and say “about time.” It was hard to tell which they’d go most days.

Remy shook his head, raising a finger and jabbing it in Edgelord’s direction. “You.” He said. “Are distracting me from helping Lily” and Lacey “find her parents. Shame. On. You.” He spread a wing towards the girl in Virge’s arms. She immediately perked up, a shy smile on her lips as she reached out to touch his feathers.

Laughter danced in Virge’s eyes as tilted his head, purple tipped bangs falling in front of them, shadowing their grey color further as he maintained eye contact, not at all distracted by the wing inches from his arm. “Oh? Then tell me, O Mighty Stork, how can you find her parents?”

“Same way I keep finding you.” Remy said with a smirk, heart fluttering in anticipation as Popsicle blanched. So close. “Not that you can see it.” He pointed to the ground where the purple ribbon still shown between Virge and Lacey and then over to the green one that also streaked from her to run parallel to Lily’s line that would lead them to her parents. “But all children have a connection between them and their parents or guardians that we,” he gestured to himself, “can see.”

Virge licked his lips, glancing to Lacey, then to the ground, his arm tightening protectively around Lily. “And Lily’s parents are?”

“Right up that hill.” He said without hesitation, pointing to where the green line led. “I can’t see who it ends at, but they are over there. I can easily reunite Lily with them, if you don’t mind holding little Lacey here for me in the meantime.” He said, his wings rising and mantling around them to block Virge’s view of anyone else as he held out the baby for him to take.

Lacey automatically reached out to her potential new Dad, making grabby hands along with a soft cooing sound demanding to be held.

Line.

Virge reached out, arm already curving to take the baby from him, only to hesitate at the last second, grey eyes flickering with shadows as he met Remy’s green ones. “That first time. When you broke into my place. You said…” He licked his lips, hand trembling as he pulled it back to hold onto Lily. “I would only have to ‘hold her and see.’ What did you mean by that?”

….Smart Fish.

Remy exhaled, shaking his head. Sinker totally sunk. Suspicious Nancy here just had to remember some off hand comment he’d made ages ago and question it.

It was times like this that he wished he could Lie to potential parents. It would make his job so much easier. But at the same time, he knew all too well that starting out a budding connection with lies would mean a crumbling family foundation later on. Best to stick to the truth to give the child the best connection with their new parents from the start.

Remy pulled Lacey back into a more steady position against his chest, soothing her disgruntled sounds as she still tried to reach out to the Emo--or maybe it was Lily she was reaching for? The other little girl was bouncing in Virge’s arms hard enough to be a workout as she stretched towards Remy.

Probably a good idea to not have those two touch just yet. He wanted to try and make the bond with Virge work first before allowing Lacey to complete the bond with Lily’s family. He shifted to keep the two out of reach from each other before speaking to Virge. “A parental bond is only established with a child in the custody of a S.T.O.R.K. when said child is touched or held by the new parent. It’s a love at first contact sort of thing.” He said, not at all surprised when the reluctant Emo took two quick steps back away from him.

Stubborn. Why was he so stubborn about this?! Shouldn’t him showing up Three Fuc--Freaking times be clear enough indication that PopStar here was meant to be a Father?!

“So~. If I were to hold Lacey for you while you helped Lily--’” Virge asked, narrowing his eyes.

“I would have killed two birds with one stone.” He said simply. “Lily would return to her parents and Lacey here would have bonded with you and you’d be her new Dad.”

Virge growled at that, eyes flashing as his shoulders hunched high enough to nearly touch his ears. “I told you before that I’m not a good Dad.” He hissed. “And yet you just tried to trick me into--”

Well most people weren’t this stupidly resistant to becoming a parent.

Remy raised an eyebrow. “Ah Huh. For some reason, LolliPop.” He gestured to Lily still comfortably resting in his arms. “I don’t believe you.”

Virgil bared his teeth, arms tightening protectively around the girl. “This is different. She’s lost! I’m not going to leave her to wander around here all alone!”

“And Lacey is different how?” Remy retorted. “She is lost, looking for a new Dad, and walla you’re here to save the bloody day!”

Virgil shook his head, taking two more steps back, nearly hitting the nearest porta-pottie. “NO.”

And just like that the Purple line fizzled, growing hazy to Remy’s sight as the Green line took on an even brighter glow.

Remy groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. Jiminy Crickets! And he’d had such high hopes that Lacey would be the breakthrough to Virge’s reluctance in joining the Fatherhood Club. “It’s not as bad as you’re making it out to be, you fuc--freaking scaredy cat!” Not that he had any personal experience in it, but he’d seen it. Seen how happy the men were to become fathers once the bond was established. “I don’t make mistakes in this. You’d be an excellent Dad no matter your doubts. I wouldn’t be here talking to you otherwise!”

“You don’t know that!!” Virgil retorted, a tint of panic to his voice. “You can’t! How can I believe some guy showing up with a random baby in his arms--you could have kidnapped her for all I--”

“You’ve seen my wings.” Remy interrupted, spreading them out and flapping them for emphasis. “Obviously I’m not exactly some guy. I don’t kidnap babies. I rescue them from bad situations and take them to better ones. That’s what a S.T.O.R.K. does!”

“I can’t--”

“You’ll have to at some point.” Remy snapped. “I’m going to keep coming to you until you do. You do realize that right? You’re marked for Fatherhood and if it’s not me that can get that through your thick skull it will be a different S.T.O.R.K. who does.”

Virge violently shook his head. “No. I’m not--”

“A good Dad. I know. I’ve heard.” Remy rolled his eyes, snapping his wings shut as he turned away to follow the green line, adjusting as Lacey twisted in his arms trying to look behind them. “I still don’t believe you.” But it was obvious by how the purple line had faded to nearly nothing that Lacey wouldn’t end up as the Edgelord’s kid.

A pity. The dude could use some serious laughter in his life. Bright and bubbly like little Lacey’s. Too bad he was apparently immune to her charm.

“...Where are you going?”

Remy fought back the urge to snarl. “To take Lacey here to her next best option, which funnily enough is Lily’s parents so are you coming with me to reunite them or not?” At least he already knew that Lily would get along with Lacey. One hurdle gone in that regard.

Virge made a noise of surprise. “They lost their child and you’re taking another to them---”

“Mistakes happen.” Remy said shortly, glancing over his shoulder. “No one can be the perfect parent 24/7. It’s impossible. You get distracted at the wrong moment and walla your child has slipped away. Or you think someone else is watching them while they think you’re watching them and no one questions why they haven’t seen the kid recently. it---her parent line is still bright, Virge.” He looked away as Mr. Reluctant caught up and fell in step with him. “They aren’t horrible bad people just because they lost her tonight. They love her. No doubt about it.”

And if Cynical Gothica was so concerned about them and their parenting skills then he should have said YES to being the Dad to Lacey before his purple line had fizzled out!

Virge ducked his head, shoulders hunching as he brushed Lily’s hair out of her eyes. “...Okay.” He mumbled a dozen steps later. “But what if they--they loved--love her, but…but did something---what if something happened to hurt her? Badly? And they couldn’t--what if it’s not fix--fixable? What then? Would you really--”

Remy stopped just short of cresting the hill, wings prickling, goosebumps on his arms sending a chill through him as he turned back to Virge. This. He could sense. Was important.

“Mistakes happen, V.” He repeated in a softer tone. “Whatever mistake you think you’ve made that you think disqualifies you from ever becoming a Father…” He stretched out a wing, brushing the Emo’s cheek, causing him to look up, eyes so soft and vulnerable that it made Remy’s chest ache. “It’s not an unforgivable one. Again. I wouldn’t be here if it were.”

People changed. People could become better than they were. Whatever had happened in the Edgelord’s past wasn’t a deal breaker to the S.T.O.R.K.s. The three times he’d shown up in his presence had to be some sort of proof. He’d never heard of someone refusing parenthood before, but the fact that Remy kept returning, the fact that Virge kept coming up as an option in the first place, had to mean something.

V bit his lip, eyes troubled as he looked to Lacey then back to Remy, the purple ribbon connecting the two flickering like a sputtering candle. “I’m not--” He whispered.

Remy let out a slow breath, well aware that his wing was still touching his cheek, but unwilling to pull away just yet. “It’s something to think on, Virge O’Doom.” He said, voice still soft. “Once is a Chance, Twice a Coincidence, Thrice? It’s a Pattern. It’s just a matter of deciding if you’re ready when I come back a Fourth time.”

As much as he wanted to convince him and make it to work between Lacey and the Emo...the line had already fuzzed once. He didn’t want Virge to have any doubts in this.

“LILY?!” A shrill woman’s voice suddenly rang through the air, breaking the tension between them like a snapped wire. “LILY WHERE ARE YOU?!”

“LILYLOO?” A man called out, his voice breaking on the last syllable. “Lily?! Has anyone seen my daughter?!”

Remy smirked, pulling his wing back and raising an eyebrow to Virge as Lily jerked upright at her name, nearly pulling free from his grip in the process. “See? Not bad parents.”

Virge drew in a visibly shaky breath, his arms tightening around the little girl. “Right.”

“MOMMY!” Lily cried, wiggling to get free. “DADDY!”

“We got her!” Remy called, using his wing to push Mr. Reluctant forward up the hill, pitching his voice so it would carry to the frantic parents. “Over here!” He raised his free hand, waving to draw their attention as he moved his other wing to cover Lacey, hiding her from their view for now.

“Oh, Lily!” Her mother rushed forward wild curly hair streaming behind her like a banner, pulling her free from Virge’s grip with little effort to smother her with kisses. “Don’t scare me like that.”

Lily wrapped her arms around her Mother, burying her head against her chest. “Sorry Momma,” She whimpered.

“Where was she?” Her father asked, hovering anxiously behind his wife. His fingers running through his daughter’s hair.

“By the bathrooms.” Virge said, shuffling awkwardly in place. “She was crying, so we---” He gestured to Remy and himself. “Were helping her find you.”

We? Nope nope. “Pretty sure that was all you.” Remy muttered under his breath, shifting as Lacey wiggled in his grip, trying to peer out from around his wing. He would have never been aware of the girl’s situation if Castlevania hadn’t taken the initiative. His job usually involved helping unloved kids. Not loved ones. Even if they were lost.

“Lily,” Her mother scolded in a soft tone, lifting up her chin. “You know you need one of us to go with you.”

The girl sniffed, eyes welling with tears. “But I’m a big girl! I can go by myself! I’m no baby.”

Grief flashed across the Mom’s face, one hand dropping to her stomach before quickly rising back to cradle the back of Lily’s head.

Ah. Remy straightened, light green dust swirling at his fingertips as recognition flashed through him. He’d seen that particular look hundreds of times before from mothers who’d lost a babe in the womb. He’d bet his sunglasses that the baby would have been the same age as little Lacey here had they survived to full term, hence why the line was so bright. Lacey could easily slip into the family like she’d always been a part of them.

“That may be.” Her husband said, taking the opportunity to pull Lily into his arms, squeezing her tight as he gave his wife a concerned look, his own eyes showing a hint of grief as well. “But you know how your mother worries about you.”

“So much, baby girl. So much. If I lost you too-” Her voice hitched as she abruptly cut off, bowing her head, wrapping her arms around her middle.

“But you didn’t.” Remy said soothingly as he moved closer to the family, fingers of his free hand twisting to scatter green dust around them so that any nosy viewers would stop paying attention now that the little family reunion was complete. “Everyone is safe and sound. No harm done.” He pulled back his wing back to reveal baby Lacey, purposely brushing his feathers along her neck, causing her to break into soft laughter, twisting in his arms from the tickling sensation.

The Mother looked up at the sound, mouth dropping open. “Oh.” She breathed, clasping her hands over her heart, eyes shimmering as she stared at Lacey. “She’s--”

“Cute right?” Remy asked, holding her out in an unspoken invitation to hold her.

Unlike Virge, the Scrooge of Fatherhood, hovering beside him, she didn’t hesitate. She reached out to gently take Lacey into her arms, a hidden weight vanishing from her shoulders as Lacey giggled, nuzzling her face against the Mother’s neck, tiny fingers gripping onto her shirt.

“She’s absolutely precious.” She murmured, pressing a kiss into her thick hair. “What’s her name?”

“Lacey.” Remy said simply, the tip of his wing stretching out to push the Father and Lily closer to them.

“Lacey.” The Father repeated, moving to her side, a smile tugging at his lips as he watched his wife slowly rock the baby back and forth. “An L name.” He reached out, running a hand down Lacey’s back, causing the green line in Remy’s sight to flash twice indicating the parental bond had been accepted. “Just like Lily’s.”

Perfect. Remy exhaled, snapping out his wing to block Virge just as he tried to interrupt the moment.

Idiot.

Remy grabbed him by the arm, dragging him away as his wings fluttered, sending more light green sparks swirling away to settle around the newly expanded family, ensuring that Lacey would be able to bond with them in peace without further interruption.

Virge struggled, twisting in Remy’s grip, unable to break free as the first set of fireworks burst in the sky overhead. “That’s it?! You can’t seriously just--”

Remy rolled his eyes. “Can. Did. Bought the T-Shirt.” Or food. Could he still get his chicken strips if the fireworks had already started? Probably not. That was disappointing.

“Seriously?! You can’t just drop off a baby and leave!”

Funny. Remy pulled them to a stop at the bottom of the hill, mantling his wings so that Virge stood in his shadow. “I’m a S.T.O.R.K., Grimm Reaper. You do remember what that means right? Leaving babies on doorsteps is kinda the whole jig.”

Virge bristled, not at all intimidated. “But you just left her!”

Must be all those Mothman encounters. Remy crossed his arms. “In good hands, Virgeroo. Not all parents need me to stick around once I give them a child.” Thankfully. He hated dealing with the ones who had a million and six impossible questions they wanted answered. But he wasn’t actually going to leave little Lacey there just like that. What sort of S.T.O.R.K. would he be to literally just dump a child in a lady’s arms and leave?

He’d double back around to check in once he was sure Virge wouldn’t go try to find them and ruin everything.

“But!”

“No.”

EmoDramatic threw up his hands. “How will they explain this though? Going to a fireworks show with one child and coming home with two!”

Remy spread his arms, wiggling his fingers. “Maaagiic~.” He smirked, snapping his wings shut. “They can explain it however they want.” The bond would ensure that whatever reason they gave for suddenly having another child, it would be believed by those who heard it. “It’s not your concern.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, brushing past him.

Not until Mr. Not-a-Good-Dad accepted his fate at least. And who knew when that would happen. Would his curiosity help spur him into taking that final step?

Virge whirled with him, fingers brushing his wing before landing on his arm, sending a shiver down Remy’s spine. “I don’t understand.”

“And you won’t, LolliPop.” Remy shrugged free from his grip, slipping his sunglasses back over his eyes. “Not until you say yes to Dadhood. That’s another thing you can think on until I see you next.” He gave his Edgelord a two fingered salute as he jumped into the air, shimmering dust whirling around him helping him to vanish from view as a series of green and purple fireworks exploded overhead.

To Be Continued.

[mizelophsun11]

Mizeloph's Tale Chapter 2

Pairing - Right now the pairing is General Kirigan x OC Sun Summoner, but that will eventually change to Kaz Brekker x OC Sun Summoner

Summary - Ketterdam is a city of thieves and these three are no strangers as they find themselves the first to a huge money job. Past are uncovered and people who where thought to be gone to the other might yet still be alive.

Word Count - 1574

-

Ketterdam

Kaz Brekker had changed, he wasn’t the same as he was before Jordies death, when he got back from the sea of death everything was different. He learned very quickly that being alone was not how someone thrived in Ketterdam, so he joined the Dregs. His past was something that Kaz kept close to his chest, no one knew that there was one person he thought of but always tried not to, a girl with white hair. However, sometimes that one person was overshadowed by his greed to one up Pekka Rollins, the man that had ruined his life. Which made stealing the Heartrender from underneath Pekkas grasp very satisfying. With Inej and Jesper they walked up to the gates that belonged to Dressen, the man who was offering the shining million kruge job.

A man approached the gate to see who the visitors were “Who are you?” he asked

“We’re here to see Dreesen” Kaz answered

He looked at the group confused “you’re not with Pekka’s crew”

“And you’re no longer in Pekka’s pocket if you don’t owe him” Kaz threw a bag of coins in between the bars of the gate, the man caught the bag and looked at it.

The gates then opened and they were allowed in “Hey! One of these has a hole in it!”

“Inside, now” Kaz said ushering the group into the building

They were brought into an office where Dressen was sitting. Kaz knew that they would have the upper hand, being first to have what Dressen wanted was key to securing the job. They needed this, it would be a big deal for the Crows to be able to get this kind of money. Dreesen looked them all over and already had an idea about the people who were standing in front of him.

“Criminals, it only takes one look” he eyes them a bit more before returning to the papers on his desk “I am not meeting with anyone until midnight so you are just wasting your time”

“We have the Heartrender that you requested” Kaz said

Dressen sighed and took a moment to think “Well.. alright, she stays and the rest of you can wait here” he said getting up from his chair and walking around his desk

The heartrender went to walk forward but Kaz stopped her with his cane “No, she stays and we have an exclusive on the job”

“Now Mr. Brekker. No businessman worth his salt hires his first applicants”

Kaz shrugged his shoulders “of course, I understand. It’s a big decision to make, just like the decision to report you to the guild for kidnapping and harboring a prisoner chain of title” he smirked a little, showing off his confidence, Kaz was the one with the upper hand in their little exchange

Dreesen glared at Kaz “you wouldn’t dare”

“No businessman worth his salt bargains for what he can take” Kaz answered

The Heartrender raised her hand “I have to be back in an hour”

“Alright, come on”

Dressen brought them down to where he was keeping the hostage, he walked up to him and turned to face the crew. Kaz went from looking around the room then back to where Dressen was standing.

“This is Alexi Stepanov” he pulled the bag off of his head to reveal his face “two weeks ago Alexei here crossed the Fold on foot, he was alone”

Inej was shocked “how?” she saw that the man was mouthing the word ‘water’ and she got him a glass for him to drink

“They’re keeping it quiet, but allegedly he was one of a few witnesses to an event..”

“What kind of event?” Kaz asked

“I know an expedition was swarmed by Volcra, it should have been a total loss, but something happened.. Right now the running theory over here is that it was a new device, one only for the worst case scenarios, but something is different about what was seen. It lit up the Fold like a forest fire. However, whatever destroyed the swarming Volcra was not a device with fire, because it would have killed everyone on that skiff. It had to have been some sort of new invention no one has seen before. This man is the answer, he hasn’t been able to speak, some sort of trauma lapse” Dreesen explained

The Heartrender approached Alexei and knelt down then started to slow down his heart beat to calm him down “you are safe now, speak and I will just listen” she smiled gently at him “tell me what happened in the Fold, what saved you?”

Alexei took in a deep breath, feeling his heart coming down to a steady pace “If I tell you, will you set me free?”

Dreesen nodded “you are in Ketterdam now, you can go anywhere in the world from here, just imagine”

“Her name is.. Anna Mizeloph, she is the Sun Summoner” Alexei said, not realizing the gates he had just opened

Kaz’s world froze, the same name of the girl with white hair he thought of every day was at the center of a myth, the Sun Summoner. So many questions were running through his mind about her and what had led her to that skiff where she had somehow demonstrated that she was the mythical Sun Summoner. He couldn’t piece together what could have happened to get her away from Ketterdam to the other side of the Fold. Kaz did understand that they had been separated as children and hoped that one day they would find each other. After he had fought tooth and nail to survive from the killer ocean in order to get back to her, she had just up and disappeared. He was always confused about how a girl with white hair would be difficult to find, but it was like she had never existed. As he was dealing with his trauma Kaz was working day and night to find Anna, but he could never find a lead that could get him something. For a while Kaz held onto those memories with Anna, they were the only way he could get through his trauma. However, those memories could not always protect Kaz forever, he had to eventually become a new person, someone who could thrive in Ketterdam, not just survive. Kaz Brekker, the Bastard of the Barrel had been shaped by his hardships in Ketterdam and he clawed his way to where he was now. Today, one thing that had always held him back was Anna Mizeloph even if he didn’t know it, if they ever found each other he questioned what she would think of him and how he had changed. In the end Anna Mizeloph was the last piece of Kaz Rietveld and he tried to let go, but Kaz never could.

Jesper and Inej knew they would want to talk with Kaz later about how he had reacted to Anna Mizelophs name. They had never seen him react so quickly just to hide it, there was something more to this and they were going to find out.

Dreesen smiled and checked the manifest “perfect” Alexei smiled “you will set me free now?” he was ready to see the world and erase the horrors of the Fold from his mind

“Thank you, of course” Dreesen then pulled out a gun and shot Alexei in the head, his body dropping to the floor, the heartrender screamed, shocked by what had just happened.

“We are now the only people west of the Fold who know this information, my ship sails for West Ravka at dawn. If you can prove that you have a way through the Fold and back, I will put you on that ship with an advance. If you don’t, I might consider giving the job to Pekaa Rollins”

“Give me a day” Kaz bargained

“You have until sunrise, then your ship will have sailed, Mr Brekker. The prize is one million kruge. Now, bring me Anna Mizeloph” Dreesens men showed them out

When they were finally back to the three of them Inej decided she would step up and ask first about Kaz's reaction “when that man said Anna Mizeloph, the look on your face.. I have never seen you react like that, you knew her didn’t you?”

Kaz looked at Inej wondering if he should indulge her question “I knew one girl named Anna Mizeloph, but she has been gone for a very long time...”

Jesper gave Kaz a look “I mean, how rare is the last name Mizeloph?”

“She is the only one I have ever known to have that last name, so it might be her.. If it is, then we have an advantage over the competition, especially if we are going to be competing with Pekka Rollins” Kaz knew that this would be the chance for his past to finally be useful

“You would really use your past with Anna Mizeloph to put her into a false sense of security?” Inej asked slightly shocked, she knew that Kaz could be a bit harsh especially when it came to the possibility of a lot of money and beating Pekka Rollins, but she did not think he would go this far to emotionally manipulate Anna if he needed to

“For a million kruge, yes” Kaz said and walked off thinking about how we would find them a way through the Fold, there and back.

-

Author Note - I am extremely happy that others are enjoying this story and the comments left on chapter 1 warmed my heart! Thank you so much for everyone who left a comment, I had no idea that would happen even when I asked. Again, it is completely up to you if you would like to leave a comment, but know that I enjoy reading them. Also I really hope that this is a decent introduction to Kazans Brekker and him finding out. Also! If you would like to be added to the tag list please comment and let me know so I can add you, I will try my best to remember everyone!

Thank you so much for all of your guys support!

Tag List - @rika90 @itsemy01 @hotleaf-juice @teatimeforusreaders

[minaslittleone]

The Sarahs as plant mums (AHS & Ratched)

Like many people I've become an avid plant mum over the course of the pandemic (much to the chagrin of those in my life who have to hear every time one of my babies sprouts a new leaf), which got me thinking - what kind of plant mum would each of the Sarahs be?

GIF: illuminated-blue

Billie-Dean Howard

Image: winterkindfotographie

Billie-Dean is much more partial to flowers than she is to caring for a whole plant. She is definitely the kind of person who always has fresh flowers in her home but also takes the time to trim and rearrange the bouquet as she places it in a vase, rather than merely unceremoniously compacting the existing arrangement into a vessel. She also definitely has a secret cut flower food recipe (passed down to her by the ghost of a Victorian housekeeper whom she met while filming a special of her show at a mansion in the UK) which keeps her cut flowers looking immaculate for a full week. If her schedule permits it, her favourite thing to do on a Sunday morning is to stroll the farmers markets and choose individual types of flowers and foliage to bring home and arrange herself from scratch. She finds the process of trimming each of the stems and finding the perfect position for each individual bloom incredibly cathartic.

Her favourite flowers are bright and cheerful. She is particularly drawn to things like tulips, gerberas and lillies, but finds softer more delicate blooms like carnations frustrating and overly dramatic, she definitely appreciates a bit of tenacity in her flowers. She also has no time for strongly scented blooms, and particularly despises the way roses seem to emit a sickly sweet odor after only a few days. Billie finds scents and perfumes in general to be quite cloying and overwhelming as smell is one of the ways she is often viscerally affected when she makes contact with ghosts. She unfortunately associates most strong smells with encounters and so sweet smelling blooms hold little appeal to her, she much prefers fresh neutral scents. The one exception is lavender which she does find soothing. After a particularly taxing week it is not uncommon for her usual bright cheerful blooms to be replaced by simple posies of lavender and rosemary as she recenters herself.

Lana Winters

Image: toms-cacti

Lana is undoubtedly a plant serial killer. Which is totally unsurprising since whenever she gets fixated on a new story she often forgets to feed herself, let alone feed and water her plants. That doesn't mean she doesn't appreciate them though. She loves the way little office plants bring life and vitality to her workspace, that is until they inevitably whither and die from lack of water, or from being burried under piles of paper but that doesn't stop her trying.

Eventually Lana discovers that she and succulents are well suited. It actually makes a lot of sense when she thinks about it - they're both a little prickly on the outside (but only to protect the softness underneath) and both are stubborn to a fault. Lana is particularly fond of the slightly larger cactus she keeps on her desk (which is incidentally the first plant she managed not to kill) and often finds herself talking to him to help work through the flow of her ideas or to overcome writer's block. Spike (as she creatively named him) really is a very good listener and a talented editor to boot.

Still there are times when Lana wishes she had a greener thumb and could expand her collection beyond succulents. As much as she loves Spike and his prickly friends, she really wishes they would grow just a bit quicker so she could experience that new leaf joy even just once. She completely dissuades herself of those feelings though when she returns from a week long book tour to find a weird bump on the top of Spike. Her first thought is that after all this time she's finally managed to kill him and that she really is as terrible a plant parent as she had feared. However, those fears completely dissolved the following morning when she returned to her office to find that Spike's bump had begun to open into the beginnings of a beautiful pink flower. For a minute she could only stare on disbelief, not quite comprehending what was going on however, that quickly gave way to a giddy childlike grin when she realised that she must be doing something right. That, and her little man really did look very cute with his flower top hat.

Cordelia Goode

Image: chickadeegreen

Cordelia doesn't just have a green thumb, she has ten green fingers. She absolutely adores plants and having living things around her, especially since the greenhouse has always been her place of peace and sanctuary. She finds it incredibly cathartic pottering around the greenhouse when she gets a few spare moments away from all her duties as supreme/headmistress/mother to a house full of girls. Most of the plants she keeps in the greenhouse are solely for practical/ medicinal purposes but she does keep a few plants in her room and office which she finds soothing. She is particularly fond of philodendrons and pothos with their easy going nature and relaxed growth pattern. She loves the way they seem to make themselves at home anywhere and every time she spots new leaves unfurling it makes her smile. She tries to make an effort to see the beauty in their imperfections and use them to remind herself that everything doesn't always have to be perfect.

Since her supremacy the plants in her personal spaces have thrived unlike anything anyone has ever seen, seemingly feeding off Cordelia's magical aura. Any time any of the plants in the greenhouse are waning she will take them to her office for a few days of rehabilitation after which they will always be positively bursting with life. It is not uncommon for her to find new additions appearing in her little infirmary if Mallory or Misty have noticed that a particular plant is in need of a little TLC.

The flip side to this is that any time Cordelia over taxes herself, while she may be an expert at schooling her features and hiding it from her girls, it will show in her plants. After too many late nights dealing with running the academy or too many days spent funneling all of her energy into everyone around her (and subsequently completely neglecting herself) the plants in her office (and room) will start to lose their vibrancy as well. The first victim is usually the heartleaf philodendron on Cordelia's office bookshelf (the first plant she allowed herself to bring into the space after ascending to the supremacy) which seems to be particularly attune to her moods, especially when it is feelings of self-doubt and inadequacy sapping her magic. Conversely it's the monstera deliciosa in the corner of her office that seems to be the first to wilt when its physical stress or exhaustion plaguing the supreme. Zoe now automatically takes stock of the plants in Cordelia's office every time she enters, knowing it's the only true indication she's likely to get that the supreme herself might be in need of some TLC.

Bette and Dot Tattler

Image: geopsych

Bette has always been drawn to flowers, she thinks they're terribly romantic. From bouquets of flowers from gentleman callers to sweet cottage gardens behind white picket fences, teeming with blooms of assorted colours, Bette thinks flowers are a beautiful symbol of normality. She desperately wants to have a garden or even a window box that she can tend to, however that particular desire is not entirely compatible with living in a trailer.

What she does have though is a small collection of African Violets sitting on their kitchen windowsill. They were a present from Jimmy after Bette's first performance singing in the freakshow. Though she might be completely tone deaf she is fiercely determined, so after months of practice she had finally managed to learn "dream a little dream of me" enough to hold the tune (with Dot gently humming it alongside her to keep her in pitch). A few days before Bette was due to perform Jimmy had quietly pressed a note into Dot's palm after dinner asking which type of flowers Bette preferred so that he could get her a bouquet for her first performance. Dot's heart warmed at that, seeing the man that she loved so tenderly care for her sister. Later that evening she had pressed a note back in reply that Bette loved anything pink, cheerful and romantic, however she also ached for flowers the she could keep beyond the length of time a bouquet would last. So maybe a flowering plant would be better. Jimmy of course bought both, handing Bette a beautiful posie of assorted pink coloured carnations along with a terracotta pot of African Violets. Bette had thrown her arm around Jimmy's neck and squeeled with excitement at the sight of her flowers while Dot had offered him the warmest, proudest smile as she mouthed "thank you" against the backdrop of her sister's excited ramblings.

Given how long Bette had pined for flowers and how excited she had been to receive them it is unsurprising that she is a devoted plant parent. She waters her flowers once a week like clockwork, adding water to a saucer underneath the pot and letting them drink the water up through their roots just like Paul had shown her. Apparently African Violets don't like to get their leaves wet. Bette would even go as far as to take her flowers out for some sun if she felt the conditions on their windowsill weren't right at their current campsite. Her little pot of flowers really did bring her so much joy.

Dot may not have shared her sister's passion for flowers (finding them mostly to be needless and frivolous) but in the end she was the one who responsible for the expansion of her sister's flower garden. When Paul had originally shown Bette how to care for her flowers he had also mentioned that they could be propagated which had fascinated Dot. The idea you could just take a leaf and it would grow roots and become a completely new plant was amazing to her. But convincing Bette to let her try it out for herself definitely proved to be battle. Bette certainly wasn't keen on allowing her sister to chop into her precious flowers while Dot couldn't see why her sister was being so protective, the little plant certainly had plenty of leaves to spare, especially if it could give a whole new plant. Unsurprisingly the disagreement escalated to a pair of very raised voices which is what ultimately drew Jimmy into the argument. After managing to calm down both sisters Jimmy revealed to Bette that the tiny pot plant had originally been her sister's idea because she knew how much she wanted to have flowers of her own. Dot confirmed that she does know how important the flowers are to Bette and that she would never want to hurt them, she was just excited at the possibility of being to make more of them for her sister and be able to give her the windowsill full of flowers that she had always dreamed of. Bette couldn't help but relent after that. A few months later and Dot has become quite the propagation expert, to the point where their windowsill is beggining to fill up with juvenile plants as well as fresh cuttings just beginning to take root. Bette smiles every time they catch her eye, not just at the beauty of the flowers that she spent so long pining for but also for how they symbolise her sister's love for her. While they may still bicker bitterly from time to time, Bette knows that no one will ever love her as much or as fiercely as her sister does. Dot still has no real interest in the flowers themselves. She does still find propagating rewarding, especially watching her little babies start to grow and flourish. But mostly she just enjoys watching the way they make her sister smile.

Sally McKenna

Image: jeremiahsplants

Sally is obsessed with carnivorous plants and you can't convince me otherwise. She definitely discovered them on Instagram and loves all the funny shapes and crazy colours that they come in. Sally would never be content with a plant that looks like a plant - no her plants need to look like vicious little aliens. The fact that they're natural born killers is also a nice little bonus. She loves how they subvert the natural order of things - insects should eat plants not the other way around.

When she first discovered plants online Sally got really upset that she'd never be able to go out and buy any of her own. It was Iris who mentioned that maybe she would be able to order some online - big mistake. Sally is nothing if not obsessive and her room now rivals Poison Ivy's lair with the number of plants she has crammed in there. The sheer number of babies in her collection doesn't mean that she neglects them though, no Sally is absolutely an A level obsessive plant mum - only the best for her babies. When she discovered that carnivorous plants prefer distilled water to tap water she started ordering it by the gallon, and as the best lit positions in her room started to fill up she definitely ordered grow lights so that none of her babies suffer. The grow lights also give off a slight purple glow which makes her room look like a rave which is absolutely a feature and not a bug.

Sally has also been known to go hunting for food for her babies, especially since her collection has grown and she worries there isn't enough to go around. Iris and Liz frequently find her collecting dead flies from window ledges to take back to her growing brood. She offers them to her babies with tweezers as a mother bird would to her chicks. The last time Iris had an exterminator spray the Cortez Sally accused her of trying to murder her babies with poison and absolutely ordered fruit flies online (intended for feeding pet reptiles rather than pet plants but meh) to keep her collection going until she could be absolutely sure that the offending toxins had dissipated.

It goes without saying that Sally has a separate plant Instagram account which she updates on nearly a daily basis with photos of new growth or just progress on her collection. She definitely has a great eye for plant photography and for making her babies come to life on the screen. One of her favourite things to do is film feeding videos with her largest Venus Flytrap "Fang" (who incidentally has his own Instagram account: @Fangstagram). Watching plants move so quickly will never get old to Sally and she has definitely been known to tease some of her smaller flytraps into snapping shut just for her enjoyment. She tries not tease them too much though, they are her babies after all.

Audrey Tindall

Image: savannahs-succulent-garden

Like Lana, Audrey is another serial plant killer, but for complete different reasons. Audrey, bless her, kills her plants with far too much kindness (and water). She so desperately wants a house full of the beautiful lush plants she sees all over Instagram so she tries her darnedest to be the best plant parent ever. Her problem is that every time she sees leaves starting to yellow or wilt she assumes it must be from lack of water (rather than the fact that their roots are already rotting from far too much).

Initially she fell into the trap of picking up plants she thought looked cute on Instagram or in the garden centre, without really knowing much about caring for them. Needless to say this didn't end well (multiple times). She thought she had cracked it when discovered the subset of house plants refered to as "hard to kill". Unfortunately, most of those plants are very resistant to neglect but not to Audrey's smothering type of plant parenting. Finally she discovered peace lillies which do actually like to have wet feet and appreciate all of her affection. She's slowly collecting other spathiphyllums in all shapes and sizes now that she's feels confident she's got the hang of them. She gets so excited every time one of them grows a new leaf or flowers - such a proud plant mum.

Now that she's growing a little more confident with at least a subset of house plants she will occasionally post photos to her Instagram. She's still pretty insecure about her plant parent abilities though and it doesn't help that she will occasionally get haters telling her she's doing it all completely wrong. She tries not to let them get to her but sometimes they really do get her down - all she wanted to do was share the joy that her plant babies bring her and she's doing her best to do right by them. After one particularly brutal bout of trolling it's actually Sally who defends her. Audrey has been following Sally's plantstagram since she first started getting interested in plants so the fact that Sally even acknowledged her kinda blows her mind. Sally tells people in no uncertain terms to back off Audrey or she will set her carnivorous babies on them. The two strike up a fast friendship after this and through Sally's guidance Audrey eventually begins to grow more confident as a plant mum. For her birthday Sally definitely sends Audrey her first baby Venus Flytrap with the absolute insistence that it be named "Audrey II".

Ally Mayfair-Richards

Image: swordsintheforest

Ally has never really seen the appeal of house plants nor does she have the time (or the headspace) to look after them. She does however have a fully stocked herb garden growing in window boxes in the kitchen to have everything within easy reach for cooking. She also loves the fresh clean smell of the basil and rosemary wafting through the house on the breeze if she leaves the windows open, particularly if it has rained. She may even admit that she's beginning to see the appeal of having the greenery around the place from an aesthetic standpoint as well.

Given how busy Ally is juggling being a senator, running a restaurant and being a single mum (plus whatever wink wink nudge nudge cult stuff she's up to on the side) it's not really surprising that it's Ozzie who's taken to caring for the herb garden most of the time. He's always been such an inquisitive kid and Ally loves watching the way his face lights up over simple things like flowers and new growth. Ozzie is particularly obsessed with propagation and there is always at least a handfull of his experiments on the windowsill. Whether it's an avocado seed he's trying to get to sprout or basil cuttings he's trying to root, he always has some new scheme in the works. Ally usually just smiles and ruffles his hair (so proud and glad that she has such an amazing and we'll rounded kid after everything that he's been through). As long as he leaves her enough basil to make pesto with, she's happy for him to play to his heart's content.

Wilhemina Venable

Image: leafyleafs

Plants have never been of any interest to Wilhemina, she considers them to be unnecessary sources of dirt and clutter. They serve no practical purpose so she has no time for them. At least until she becomes the somewhat unwilling recipient of one. As far as office secret Santa presents go, she supposes, the lilac coloured orchid is actually quite inoffensive. However she can't shake the feeling that it must have been bought for her as some kind of challenge, that someone at Kineros is secretly watching to see how quickly she will kill it because someone like the imperious Ms Venable is obviously incapable of the kindness or tenderness necessary to keep something as beautiful and delicate as an orchid. What she doesn't know is that it was actually from Mutt, because while he is usually too coked out of his mind to show it, he is actually quite fond of her. And he knows her well enough to know that she would never accept a gift from him directly so each Christmas he rigs the office Secret Santa to get her name so he can her something (and also partly because he doesn't trust some of the interns not to get her something crude on a dare given the anonymous nature of the gift). He also knows her well enough to realise that she would appreciate the elegant beauty (and obviously the colour) of the orchid but would never cede to the frivolity of buying something like it for herself.

Despite the good intentions of the gift, Wilhemina can not fathom the idea that it was genuinely meant for her enjoyment. Obviously someone is toying with her but she will not be beaten. Wilhemina Venable may not know the first thing about orchids but she will be damned if whoever gave her the wretched thing manages to get a laugh out of it at her expense. So she learns. Mina is nothing if not fiercely independent and resourceful so she scours the internet for information on orchid care and reads everything she can find. And of course she succeeds (because anything else would be unacceptable to her).

After six months her little orchid is still alive and thriving in her office and privately she would have to admit that she has grown quite attached to it. Compared to other plants she finds it to be quite neat and tidy, and there is something elegant and refined about its arching growth habit which she finds quite beautiful. Over the course of her research she has of course come across the tremendous variety of orchids available. She of course is drawn to all of the different tones of purple blooms but also finds herself unexpectedly drawn to some of the darker, more gothic varieties. She tries to tell herself that it is merely an aesthetic appreciation, that they hold no actual allure to her, but she keeps finding herself drawn back to them. She almost buys herself one on *so many* occasions but the idea of doing something so frivolous just for her own pleasure and enjoyment is so terrifying to her that she always chickens out. Eventually she caves though, buying an indigo coloured orchid on sale at the grocery store, abruptly rushing home with it before she can change her mind again. She spends the entire rest of the day second guessing the decision but the next morning when she opens her eyes to the delicate purple blooms tenderly placed on her night stand she can't help the gentle smile it brings to her face or the warmth that settles in her chest.

After that her collection slowly grows. She still struggles with buying things for herself simply for pleasure but she is getting better, and the sick guilty feeling in the pit of her stomach seems to appear less and less each time she does it. So her collection of orchids grows, mostly including those with particularly dark blooms or interesting and unusual shapes (though there are definitely a couple of lilac and lavender coloured blooms in there as well). She also begins to expand to other dark leaved plants as well, like certain begonias and definitely a ZZ raven. Like with the orchids, all of her new acquisitions are thoroughly researched and she is determined to succeed in their care.

Mutt will sometimes catch her glance fondly at her little desk orchid as he passes her office. He is genuinely glad to have given her something that seems to bring her such contentment. If only he knew the true extent of the gift he had given her.

Mildred Ratched

Image: bidoctor

Mildred has no idea about plants of any kind. Or at least she didn't before Gwen. Her childhood certainly wasn't filled with simple pleasures like planting flowers or playing in a vegetable patch, and any indoor plants or flower arrangements were merely things she was forbidden to touch and harshly punished if she damaged. So inevitably these things inspired a far greater degree of anxiety and tension in Mildred than they did joy or contentment.

But Gwen loves gardening. She had memories as a young child of helping her father in their backyard, returning of an evening covered in mud, much to her mother's dismay. Gwen's strong nurturing nature made her a very capable gardener and she derived a great sense of contentment from it. On some level Mildred wished she could help Gwen as she pottered through their garden of a weekend but she wouldn't have a clue where to start. In fact, the nasty voice in Mildred's head whispered, she would be so much better off without you, you'll just ruin everything, you're far too useless to be of any help. So as Gwen worked Mildred would watch, pretending to pay attention to her novel but really trying to find the pattern and reason to Gwen's actions so that maybe, someday, she wouldn't be quite so useless.

Mildred did, however, enjoy accompanying Gwen to the nursery when she went to collect supplies for their garden. Mildred may not have the faintest idea what any of the plants were called or how to care for them but she did find it peaceful to walk through the rows upon rows of different shades of green. She was continually fascinated by how many different shapes, sizes and colours they seemed to come in. Sometimes Gwen would catch her staring curiously at a particular plant but Mildred would always decline when Gwen offered that they could take it home with them.

One particular Saturday in spring Gwen found Mildred tenderly righting a small yellow marigold which had been knocked over by other nursery-goers as they riffled through the display to choose the brightest and most beautiful blooms. The poor little plant was somewhat lopsided and some of its leaves were slightly crushed from where it had lain, still there were the beginnings of golden yellow petals starting to peak from within the confines of its buds. Gwen watched as Mildred delicately unkinked the worst of the damaged leaves, fingers ghosting over the flowers that had yet to bloom. This time when Gwen suggested that they take the battered little plant home with them Mildred suddenly became very interested in a thread dangling from the cuff of her blouse as she muttered "Wouldn't it be easier to just choose one that isn't crushed? One without so much damage?". Gwen gently reached out, linking her pinkie with Mildred's, cursing that anything more would have been unacceptable in public. She gently squeezed Mildred's slender finger in her own until her gaze lifted to meet Gwendolyn's. "Never" she breathed. "The flower that blooms in adversity is the most rare and beautiful of all". She felt her throat tighten and eyes begin to burn as she watched Mildred's eyes begin to glisten and that *damn* dimple on her chin begin to quiver. "I wouldn't have the faintest idea of how to look after it", Mildred's gaze dropping again to the poor bruised little plant. Gwen squeezed their intertwined fingers once more, coaxing Mildred's eyes to meet her own. "I can show you, if you'd like?" Mildred's teeth began to worry her bottom lip as she considered. "What if I can't? What if I kill it?" "Sweetheart, you won't and I'll be there with you every step of the way. We can do it together." Mildred seemed to consider this offer, turning back to gaze tenderly at their little friend, before meeting Gwen's eyes. "Ok" she murmured, "together".

After that, every time Mildred and Gwen returned to the nursery Mildred would inevitably leave with a battered looking plant that she was determined to rehabilitate. Gwen, true to her word, patiently guided Mildred through the basics of plant care and Mildred, unsurprisingly, quickly became very proficient. Her tiny, dextrous fingers, used to dealing with needles and surgical instruments, were incredibly adept at staking and repositioning bent and battered plants as she helped them to heal. Soon enough, one end of their porch became entirely dedicated to Mildred's patients, so much so that Gwen began affectionately referring to it as Mildred's ward. And in spite of her initial fears Mildred had become quite the proficient gardener, with her little rag-tag bunch of plants, all twisted and pointing in slightly odd directions, forming the most beautiful and beloved garden Gwendolyn had ever seen.

[inkandpen22]

Shared Minds and Shared Souls (1/?)

Pairing: Spike x Female!Reader

Warnings: Angst, mentions of death, swearing

Word Count: 2.9k

Story Summary: Driven by the power she posses as a witch and psychic, Y/N returns to Sunnydale to pay a visit to her family after she has a vision about Dawn. She isn’t exactly like her duty first and justice before all else cousin Buffy as Y/N follows her own rules. She offers her aid to the Scoobies during their drama with Glory. Y/N doesn’t plan to stay long until she experiences an unparalleled connection with a certain vampire from North London.

Masterlist

I never imagined myself visiting a small town like Sunnydale. I’ve lived in many places, but never California. The west coast isn’t exactly my style. For one, it’s hot. Two, the hippy-dippy happy-go-lucky attitude makes my eyes roll. Finally, Los Angeles reminds me of Celia, my cousin. Buffy, Celia, and I were inseparable as children. Dawn tried to tag-along in our make-believe games, but Buffy grew annoyed with her quickly. I haven’t been back in California in a decade for this very reason. Everything about California reminds me of a time when we were just kids. Before everything went to Hell in a hand basket. 

Blasting Green Day in front of the hospital, I park my 1967 bright red Mustang. I take a minute to collect myself before barging in. Buffy and Dawn don’t exactly know I’m coming, but there’s something I have to warn them about, something so crucial that I drove here all the way from New York. The funny part will be explaining to Buffy that I know she’s the Slayer. To her knowledge, I’m just her ordinary cousin who she hasn’t seen since we were ten. In reality, I’m a psychic witch, have been since birth. Well, I’ve been psychic since the womb, the witchy part came later. Oh, and I can’t forget seeing the dead part, I always do. That little twist comes with the psychic part. Yeah, imagine a little ten-year-old me seeing my recently deceased cousin at her funeral… fun times. It explains the whole discomfort toward California. Low-key traumatized, but all good. Any who, I should probably stop the hesitation and just head inside. 

As I stroll down the bitter cold hospital hall, I grip the leather straps of my backpack nervously. 

“Hi Buffy,” I rehearse under my breath. “You probably don’t recognize me, I’m Y/N… your cousin. It’s great to see you- God I sound so stupid!” 

I follow the signs on the wall toward the Neurology unit. Hospitals, cemeteries, funeral homes, old buildings, all great places to bump into ghosts. The things I do for family, boy do these guys owe me. 

As I turn down yet another peach colored hall- geez this place is dated- my eyes land on a familiar blonde in the waiting room at the far end. Oh great, here we go. Buffy doesn’t notice me right away, being too occupied with doting on a sleeping Dawn resting her head on her lap. I take note of the blondie boy sat beside her. I’m guessing he’s with Buffy. Good for her, a strong seven out of ten. I would rate him higher, but he’s not my type, too All-American boy-next-door. 

“Looks like I’m right on time,” I determine once I’m closer, thus making my presence known. Buffy peers up at me and her eyes widen steadily. Blondie next her looks between me and Buffy. Her surprised reaction makes him tense, I nearly assure him I’m not a threat. 

“Y/N?” She gentle shakes Dawn to wake her as she rises from her seated position. “What are you doing here?” 

“I heard about your mom… ” I explain vaguely. In truth, I saw it in a vision and a lot more beyond that, but I’ll just say my mom told me for now. 

Buffy makes long strides and warmingly embraces me. I can sense the desperation in her touch. Her ora is all out of wack. I could see the mess her colors are from yards away. It seems like I did really arrive at the perfect time. Buffy needs me now more than ever. 

“Y/N!” Dawn gasps behind us. 

Buffy and I part, her eyes stare into mine pleadingly. Yeah, we really need to have a chat. Preferably somewhere we can be frank, truly frank, no bullshit like I’m spilling right now. 

“Oh my God!” Dawn squeals, rushing down to greet me.  She squeezes me like a stress ball as she rambles on about how much she’s missed me. Then, Dawn starts to ask the tough questions as usually does. The girl has never quite had a filter. “Where have you been?”

“New York mainly,” I laugh. 

“How come you’ve never come to see us before?” She rushes out as Buffy continues to stare at me in awe. It could be she thinks she’s dreaming this. 

“Dawn, I-” 

She cuts me off, “how’s aunt Lolly? Are you college? When did you get in?”

“Dawnie!” I laugh, “I will answer all your questions, promise. We’ll catch up! For now,” I look at Buffy. “I need to have a chat with your sister…” 

The girl scoffs, rolling her eyes dramatically as she crosses her arms over her chest. “Of course, you’re for Buffy… everyone is always here for her. No ever visit me,” she grumbles. 

“I’m here for you too,” I assure Dawn. “I just… it’s important I speak with Buffy right now. It’s about something-” 

“I’m sorry, but who are you?” Blondie interrupts, his face covered with confusion. 

“I’m Y/N,” I introduce myself. “I’m Buffy and Dawn’s cousin.” 

“I’m Riley, the boyfriend,” he offers me his hand. 

Wow, quite the introduction. I’m not much of a contact-person, but this seems like the perfect opportunity to gather information on G.I. Joe. As I shake his hand, I’m able to visualize memories and emotions from him. They come as flashes before my eyes. I hear his thoughts, see through his eyes, and feel what he’s felt. All I see Buffy, moments they’ve had. At first, pleasure and immense happiness consumes my head. Then, it’s replaced with doubt and self-deprecation. The obsession with Buffy is replaced with desperate longing. He feels her slipping. 

My visual is cut-off when Riley removes his hand. I’m brought back to current moment, surrounded by chaos of the hospital. 

Dawn frowns, curiosity etched across her features. “What’s so important that you had to come all the way? Does it have to do with Mom?”

“You came all the way from New York?” A male voice questions behind me. 

What is this an interrogation? The sooner someone tells me where Buffy is the sooner I can head back home. Believe me, I don’t want to be here longer than I have to be. I glance over my shoulder, Willow and Xander stare at me in confusion. We’ve never met, but I know of them, the visions. I’ve been keeping tabs on Buffy and the family since… well… since Buffy became the Slayer. 

“Yes,” I answer Xander directly. Turning back to Buffy, I not so discretely tell her it’s urgent. “Please, Buff, do you have minute? I know this isn’t exactly opportune but-” 

“Of course,” she swallows hard. “We can uh… we can talk outside. There’s a courtyard just over there,” she gestures down the hall. 

“I’m coming with,” Riley declares next to her. 

“I’m sorry, is your name Buffy?” I sass, much to his frustration. “What am I going to do her? She’s my cousin. I’m only borrowing her for a second, then you can toss the leash back on her.” 

“Y/N…” Buffy mutters for me to stop. 

Riley narrows his eyes at me- oof, I’m real scared now! While I giggle at her boyfriend’s expense as the two of us start down the hall. I’ve missed Buffy, we used to be like two peas in-a-pod. Once all this drama I’ve seen in her future is over, perhaps we can be close again. I refuse to settle in Sunnydale though. At least we have phones and email. 

Once outside, and we’re certain we’re alone, Buffy cuts to the chase. “Not that I’m not happy you’re here, Y/N, I am but, why are you here?” She hasn’t changed a bit.

I snicker, peering up at the sky as the sun it starting to set. Gosh, I hate the day. That sounds weird because what human hates daytime, but I do. I’m much more… in tune with myself when it’s night time. I thrive off the moonlight and stars. The sun and its rays are hot, too hot. I like the cold and darkness of night. 

“Fine, let’s get right to it,” I smirk at my cousin wickedly. Reaching into my back pocket, I pull out my pack of cigarettes, feeling a bit anxious. “You mind?” I ask her, not really caring but figure I should check. 

Timidly, she shakes her head. Her arms are securely crossed in front of her as she watches me take a smoke. “Those things will kill you,” she advices the cookie-cutter phrase. 

“So can a car accident, yet we still drive,” I remark with sass. “What’s life without a little risk?” I wink. 

Buffy shifts on her feet as her jaw clenches. Her aura is shifting again, Black to red, I’ve never seen someone change on a dime so fast. That’s change is funny, she’s either angry or afraid of me, maybe both. I can’t blame her, I’m not exactly a Care Bear. My black and red attire doesn’t scream comforting. 

“Then again, you would know all about death, right Cuz?” I suggest subtly. 

Her eyes lock with mine and I start to see the wheels turning her head. ‘Does she know? How could she?’ She’s likely thinking to herself. One touch and I could hear for certain what she’s thinking. 

“What are you talking about?” She mumbles, barely meeting my eye. 

I scoff, tossing my head back, why can’t this be easier? You know what, fine! Growing impatient, I hold my hand out, palm to the sky. “Light,” I verbalize and within seconds a bright orb floats above my palm. 

Buffy stares at my magic stunned. Yeah, I was sort of expecting that kind of reaction. 

“How… How…” She stutters. 

“If you’d like a mini bolt of lighting I can do that too,” I offer. “I kind of prefer them, far more powerful!” 

She doesn’t share in my excitement as she slowly steps closer still in awe. “You’re a witch?” 

“Yep!” I smile, rather proud. “Have been for a while now, gotten pretty good at it too, not to brag or anything…” 

“So…” Buffy continues to process everything. “You know about demons, vampires-” 

I hum, “all of it. Including that you’re the Slayer, congrats by the way! Fun shit,” I compliment with a snicker. 

“Not exactly how I’d describe it,” she mutters defeatedly, her eyes still on the orb. 

Closing my fist, the orb disappears and I place my hand on Buffy’s shoulder. Her eyes meet mine solemnly. 

“How long have you known?” She asks unfazed. 

“Since forever,” I answer truthfully. “Sorry I never called or have come to help. I’ve sort of been cheering for ya from the sidelines. In all honesty, I’ve been away perfecting my magic with a coven. I’ve met some pretty interesting people along the way, all dazzled when they find out I’m related to the Slayer,” I gush. 

She pays no mind to my compliments, still in a daze. “Does anyone know? Does your dad?” 

I shake my head and sternly tell her, “he can never know! He thinks I’ve been away at school in Boston. In truth, I’ve been in New York with a coven.” 

Buffy nods in understanding, though I know Joyce is aware of the supernatural world. My mom could never handle it. “Did you come all the way here to tell me that?” 

Okay, here’s the hard part, the real hard part! I finish my cigarette, pondering the last relaxing bit of it before tossing it to the ground. “Okay, so here’s the deal,” I begin. “There’s a this big nasty bitch I’ve seen in my visions- I see visions by the way-” I add in passing, having forgotten it. Then, I remember I can’t forget the ghosties bit. “Anyway, you’ve already bumped into her, Glory. Yeah, she’s a real charmer from what I can see. I’m here to help because based on my visions, she’s kicking your asses.” 

I leave out a crucial bit of information, a part of the visions I’m not sure I can share. One important thing about being a psychic is not changing fate. As much as I want to tell Buffy everything, I know I can’t, not if I don’t want to mess with the world. 

“So, you’re here to help us stop Glory?” She clarifies. 

“It gets real fucked at some points,” I tell her, hoping that doesn’t reveal too much. 

“And I take it you know about Dawn…” she insinuates. 

I nod my head slowly, “you mean that she’s The Key? Then yes, I do. She’s about as human as the Teletubbies, but of course I won’t mention that to her. Who all knows?” 

“As of right now, me and Giles. He’s my Watcher,” she explains. “Did you already know that?” She’s catches on quickly. 

“Kinda…” I answer hesitantly. “Sorry if that’s weird. I’ve tried not to pry with my visions. If it makes you feel better, I didn’t know who Riley was! He mustn’t have been around the last time I checked in!” 

“When was the last time you… ya know… checked in?” She asks, unsure of how to phrase it. 

“Well, I’ve been away with the coven. I joined them right after high school, so I suppose it was when you started at UC Sunnydale. I know all about Willow and Xander, they seem nice from what I’ve seen. Angel, his in-and-out appearance in my visions was confusing for a while until I realized he was doing that in real life too,” I laugh.

“So you saw all of the Spike drama and my mom finding out about me too?” She asks. 

I frown, I saw Joyce learning about Buffy and that whole conversion, but I’ve never heard of a Spike. Based on my expression, Buffy predicts the answer. 

“Spike is the biggest pain in my ass,” she groans. “He and Angel used to be all vampy together. Then, Angel gained a soul and Spike got worse from what I’ve gathered. He’s killed two Slayers, so we’re not exactly friends. We met when he tried to kill me. He’ll show up and leave again, kinda like Angel but less helpful. Except now, he’s acting all infatuated with me and sticking around.” 

I snicker, “oof, so you have a psychotic vampire lusting after you? How did I miss this?!” 

Buffy rolls her eyes, “believe me, it’s not fun.”  

“Is he hot?” I inquire, always interested in a troubled bad-boy type. 

She stares at me with narrowed eyes of disapproval and scoffs, “oh my God… never ask me that again.” 

 “He must’ve showed up and gone between visions,” I determine. “I wasn’t able to check in much after you started at UC. Which reminds me, your roommate Kathy- not a fan of her,” I confess with a bit of humor. 

“Turned out to be a demon,” Buffy explains, much to my surprise. 

I gasp, “no way! Ugh, I saw you move-in, some interactions here and there, but that’s about it. I knew there was something up with her!” 

Buffy laughs, actually smiling for the first time since our reunion. It feels great having someone know I’m a witch who isn’t a witch themselves. Being away in New York with the coven was great and utterly freeing. They were the first people who I showed my true self to. Now, finally, someone I care about knows the real me. I have so much more to share with her! 

Buffy takes my hand gently, “I’m really glad you’re here. Lately… lately things have been more difficult than I could’ve ever imagined,” she confesses, swallowing back her tears and looks at the ground. “With Mom and protecting Dawn, I’m not sure I can do it all on my own. I mean, I have my friends, Giles, and Riley but…” she meets my gaze, tears puddling in her eyes. “I needed you, I just didn’t quite know it. I needed my other sister,” she weeps. 

Immediately, I pull Buffy into my chest and hug her tightly. I should’ve come sooner. I should’ve felt Buffy’s pain. I guess I was so caught up with the coven and I forgot to check on her, so I missed the signs. I’m here now, that’s all that matters. Now, I can help. Seeing Buffy so upset makes my blood boil. Anyone who fucks with my family gets knocked off this planet, which means Glory has another coming at her in the form of a powerful witch. 

__________________________

Masterlist 

[inthestars011]

what it’s like falling in love with her🦋🥺❤️

(Venus !!)❤️❤️ I did this fast so I apologize for grammar spelling mistakes xox

(I’m doing this by thinking of my friends and their methods or way of acting in romantic relationships however I will make another one doing in love with him and will touch on men with all the venuses that I’ve personally been in love with to add an even more personal touch xox)

Aries- Kisses that are short but kill you in the 5 seconds they last. Gives you forever in a minute. Always leaves you wanting more and that breaks you but fills you simultaneously. She knows that. She’s aware of her presence and that it feels like burning in all the right places. She seems naive and pure at soul, but shes well aware of the danger she holds in her hands and she uses it to her advantage. She loves the wanting, the chasing. She lives for the thrill, the game. She will run away before you can dispose of her heart and she might not let you see those broken parts but might just show a side that’s much funner, when it gets serious she may just become a runner. Sometimes, she is nothing but a machine running on fumes of lust expelling and leaving without a trace whenever she must. Some day she may realize that love might just be worth it, and that she really deserves it. But it still must consist of passion, fireworks, and all, if you plan on keeping her for the long haul.

Taurus Venus- she doesn’t want you to know she is soft, as she’s shown that side before, to many people she has lost. She’s not ready for change so her walls are built high, not even broken open by heavy ocean tides. Deep down she is melting, she is all love at the core. Filled with romance and god, so much more. She wants someone to truly share this with, but forever is all she ever asked for. If you cannot give her that she’ll retreat, become stubborn unable to make two ends meet. she might be slow at first to show her passion, she may show it through a touch that inhibits so much love. there’s nothing better than the comfort of her hug. She will heal all of you through a softness that you didnt think exists. She’s the definition of wife material, someone you’ll forever miss.

Gemini Venus- they describe her as flakey and that’s not always the case. There’s so many sides to her like differing tulips in a vase. I think she likes love but can find it in so many places, I think she can find love amongst so many faces. Maybe it’ll take a while for her to find her forever, but I do think deep down she does want forever. She won’t show all this meaning right off the jump. She’ll show something more innocent, naive and young. She is cute and pure, that, we are sure. She hides such greatness behind that coy smile, and the right person has to detect that, to truly find that. Maybe that’ll take a while. but that person will come that realizes shes more than just fun, she is the moon, just as much as she is the sun. She is eccentric and wildly funny. Her love feels like flying which is freeing but, a little terrifying, honey! It sometimes feels like, at any moment, she might let go, leaving one freezing in the December snow. Once it is true love, she is just as comforting as she is adventurous, she’ll give the whole world and expect nothing in return. Her love comes in teachings and there’s something we all can learn, from the glimmer in her eyes to her childlike hope. if she is truly in love, you will know.

Cancer Venus- her love feels just like home. The mom or dad you never had, and to play that role, she’s probably glad. every touch is enveloped with so much care. You can still smell the sea within her hair. She might be the mother or the baby or maybe even both, she always did help you unfold. When you think of her, you think of making out in your childhood bedroom, you think of the clinginess she exuded, maybe the eternal doom. The moods were never your favourite but you learned to savour it. You accepted every side of her maybe even the annoying parts too. She was your special seashell in the deep ocean blue, her love was nothing but true.

Leo Venus- Golden shimmers from above, a dramatic flair when it came to love. It was always, all show, all beauty, nothing below. Sometimes that was beautiful, sometimes you hated it. There was no in between, she served melodrama for breakfast lunch and dinner and you ate it up, there was no room for desert. Her love was like light shows and the strips of Las Vegas, entrancing but maybe too much at times. there was some innate programming she had that made her feel like she was never enough, but that she was, that she was. She was the big romantic gesture, love was extravagant and so was she. She wanted a love as she saw on the screens, the one that filled her childhood dreams. It was hard to live up to her firey passions, but it was worth it because she’d give you so much in return. She would love you till her flicker would burn out and she was all just heavy smoke and she’d continue loving you in the darkness. They called her the lion for a reason, her loyalty was fierce but her wrath was even fiercer. Her love was so lush, yet, the anger would defeat her.

Virgo Venus- Pure and awkward. The angel that was too good for you, the one that made you dream of laying and praying beside her feet. Not because her flirting skills were smooth and effortless, not because of lusty bedroom eyes, but because of the sweetness that filled her tired sighs. You could see that she wanted something real and that, pursuing maybe wasn’t her strong point, but you would do that for her. Once you got to know her, you unpeeled every layer and found more and more gold underneath, it scared her to show it, but her love grew fonder and she did it more confidently as time went on. Time is what grew our love and our passion, and it was as real as it could ever be. It was divination, it was serving a higher purpose. It was husband and wife, Adam and Eve, something so religious, something so prestiged. It may have seemed regular classic or boring. But to us it felt like our own little story. You got to know a bit more everyday and the excitement of that never did go away. I thank you for fixing all my brokenness even if it was slowly and surely, I thank you for helping me change. You are the only god to which I would pray to, the only holy ness that made the sadness go away.

Libra Venus- She’ll scare the hell out of you with her words. They’ll fall out of her mouth effortlessly, soft flower buds, blooming. She knows just what to say and she holds so much power in that. Her charm and her brilliance got you down on your knees, just a sentence, is all that it takes. Kisses sweet like strawberry shakes. But before you know it she doesn’t love you anymore, it was just a fantasy she had, merely a mirage. It wasn’t real but to you it was and it’s confusing and it’s making you insane. She didn’t mean to cause any pain, she is a fairy in the garden bouncing from tree to tree ever so lightly, taking what she can get and moving on to what’s meant for her. And maybe that wasn’t you. Maybe that’s ok. Because she’ll find someone who makes her heart beat from their touch and their words, someone that doesn’t make her want to create an imaginary world. Someone who just is pure beauty to her, someone who is nothing but real true love. Something more down to earth and better than the heavens up above. She will find it. And she will never let go.

Scorpio Venus- the tension that she holds. “Are we angry at eachother or are we so in love we can’t breathe?”She always made you feel both. Sometimes you thrived off of it, sometimes it made you seasick. She bit your lip and made it bleed as she pulled you in for your final kiss. She cried a little as she left. There was softness in her dark facade there was something light and airy. You only could touch it for a second before it slipped back underneath the oily meSs. The chaos was exciting and her loyalty was meaningful. Her jealously could kill and that you’ve seen. You smelled danger from a mile away on her shirt and you gravitated towards it for some reason. She’ll make her scar and the slice will hurt your skin, but you’ll forever want to bleed. She is what you need.

Sagittarius Venus- with her, love wasn’t hard. No, she made you think it was easy. It was giggles and being best friends. It was passionate make outs and spontaneous adventures. Love is all well and fun. Love is the horizon, a new dawn, abeautiful beginning. But sometimes it had to end. Sometimes she would run free and realize “this isn’t for me.” And sometimes she would come back as if nothing happened. It seemed like dissapearjng but to her it was just living out her honest truth. She wouldn’t wanna stay if what you felt for her wasn’t the same as what she felt for you. when it’s good it’s all passion, it’s perhaps not romantic but casual and fun. it’s two love birds on the run. Don’t know where they are going but they’re together and isn’t that what matters? They don’t know that eventually both their hearts might shatter. She loves the unpredictable and will revel in it with you, images of soaking your hands in waterfalls and late night rendezvous.

Capricorn- Her love is timid and perhaps bitter, but once she falls in love she’ll be unsure what hit her. She may laugh at romance till she is in the dream herself, she’ll then learn to fall in love with love itself. It takes a lot to serenade this girl, and she wants nothing less than what is perfect and no one can deny that she deserves it. She showed true commitment and loyalty and someone treated her like a joke and left her broken without a glint of hope. She is now careful in love and can you really blame her? But once you tear those walls down it’s impossible to tame her. She’ll want kisses in public and cuddles by the fire, she’ll believe that you are more than worthwhile. Yes it may take a while to break down the stones that she’s pilled in front of her heart, she will be more like concrete, but a soft touch and a smile that means well might just turn her into fragile glass, into running water. If you bash those walls down with steely swords and fight the dragons that protect her pretty soul than she might just believe in you, you might just help her believe in love again, and ultimately, she might believe in herself.

Aquarius- She will confuse you as she shape shifts into whatever he pleases. Sometimes, she is one full of romance and love and she gives you summer heat and sweet icecream. But sometimes the sunshine is fleeting, she is cold and detached and wants to be nothing more than friends. She is full of surprises and contradictions. She loves in a way that is strange but captivates you, you always want to know more. She is a good and loyal friend, funny and filled with adventures and a good wit. She is awkward and unsure of how to pursue true love though she does want it. deep inside she’ll never admit it, no, those feelings she hides. She’ll pull you in, and there you are falling in her wishing well, unable to climb back out and sometimes you can surround yourself in her water and drown in feelings but sometimes it’s empty and vacant, depressing, sometimes she is an endless drought. She’ll make you love her so much it terrifies you but she’s like electricity in your veins, absolutely addicting.

Pisces- She is the girl with eyes full of stars staring at you across the crowded room with a shy smile. She will not approach you but instead let herself escape to a dream in which you are the main role, she will be able to taste your lips, to smell your cologne even as she is not near you, even when she’s lying in bed at home. She will wish for you to come and save her from herself and she wishes you are as good as her heart makes you up to be, she wishes when you finally come and love her that you will never leave, because when she is abandoned, she is still left with those empty dreams. And the fantasies do haunt her, the memory of your soft kiss will taunt her. I hope for your sake you live up to what she dreamt you to be, otherwise she may be surprised, heartbroken, and she will not hesitate to leave. To chase some perfect crystallized image that dances in her head, she’ll cry and scream when people tell her Prince Charming simply does not exist, but she still believes all her past lovers were simply frogs she had to kiss and that she still awaits her soulmate. All this love and lust is only fictious for she is just the girl with eyes full of stars staring at you across the crowded room with a shy smile. Do approach her.

[willownoir1112]

Hello beautiful people of Tumblr! Wyn here with day one of White Rose Week 2021 to break my silence! I hope everyone enjoys, and I'll see you tomorrow with day 2!

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Love Bites

Summer Rose vanished, and Ruby suffered.

All her life, all Ruby has ever wanted was to belong. She tries so hard to fit in, first with her older sister's friends. But, they all told her to go away. That she's a baby compared to them. "Why would I want to bring you too?" Yang would always declare. "You're still just a baby!" Her friends would laugh with her, call her names as well, and leave her behind just like Yang did.

Her sister's words hurt her, and destroyed any chance of them having a sisterly relationship.

She tried so hard to be a good daughter. But, her father spent more of his time worrying about his troops, his responsibilities, his duties to Goddess and Country. "One day you will understand, Ruby." He would always tell her. "One day, you'll have to make the same sacrifices for a family of your own." His words never changed, nor his actions. He would be gone constantly, leaving her and Yang alone for weeks or even months at a time, meaning she had to grow up far too quickly.

Her father's priorities hurt her and robbed her of her childhood.

She tried so hard to be a good student. But, subjects like english, history, anything really to do with reading simply didn't make sense to her. She could stare at the page of a book for hours and all she could see is a jumble of letters. Everyone called her simple, stupid, a waste of time. "Oh look, it's little Stupid Ruby!" Cardin Winchester would declare every day at school. He and his cronies would torment and belittle her, and once even cut her long hair off. She suffered in silence, her arms the only evidence of her inner pain. Arms she always kept covered even in the worst heat of summer.

Her peers hurt her with their words, with their actions, and made her withdraw further into herself.

She finally stopped being a good sibling. She shut her sister out of her life first, Yang never noticing that Ruby stayed closeted in her room constantly. She was the bright shiny sun of everyone else's lives, with her outgoing and boisterous personality. Everyone's but Ruby's. If Yang is the bright sun, then Ruby has become the darkest moon of the family, and she likes it that way now.

She finally stopped being a good daughter. She did her chores without complaint and without needing to be told, save late at night when her father would already be in bed or Yang too preoccupied with her latest significant other. He never noticed that his younger daughter dresses in nothing but blacks and reds, or that she never let her hair grow back longer than above her shoulders. The career he chose to continue to support his family had a long ago casualty, and Ruby keeps it that way.

She finally stopped being a good student. She kept going to school, despite all but failing in everything. She went through the motions, ignored everyone when they called her things like Queen of Darkness or Salem's heir, or even worse. She ignored the shoves, the bullying, everything done to her until they all finally grew bored of it and her. She was finally left alone to sit in the deepest corner of all her classes, doodling to pass the time until she could return to her room and her solitude.

But then Ms. Peach, the choir director, invited the secretly shy and lonely girl to her class one day and encouraged her to sing. From the moment she heard the piano play, her soul became exultant, and her voice rose in response. Even Principle Ozpin, who was walking by at that moment stopped and listened as the shy, moody, rather dark girl who kept to herself was in possession of a voice that could bring even him to tears. Peach was enthusiastic in teaching her how to read music, how to project her voice, how to truly appreciate her hidden talent for music.

But, Taiyang finally noticed when he was forced to retire. He noticed the true state of his family, and decided to take firm control. He destroyed her growing dreams when he declared she and Yang both were to join Beacon Military Academy to finish school. That they needed discipline and not freedom to thrive like he once did. That neither of his children will follow in his long disappeared wife's footsteps, and lack the discipline needed to succeed where she obviously failed.

He was furious when Glynda Goodwitch admitted her as Ruby, allowing her to keep that one small bit of freedom.

She suffered like never before at Beacon. She was admitted two years early as a favor to her father, and she hated it. Her hate translated itself into her becoming a powerful fighter with her chosen weapon, a red and black fifty caliber sniper scythe she named Crescent Rose, and soon where she was once either dereided or ignored, she was now feared. Even her own sister fears her now, and that makes her happy.

She is the Darkest Reaper of Vale, and she hates them all.

But one person did not fear her. One person saw past her pain, her grief for her denied life. Weiss was from Atlas, a mysterious, inclusive land far to the north, where they say even the Grimm do not tread. A land of dark magic, of creatures even fouler than the enemy of the world. A land even the demiurge Salem has forsaken. Weiss did not fear the Darkest Reaper, and took an odd delight in hearing the whispers about her, about them both.

She has her own secrets, secrets Ruby will know all too soon.

She cannot help but to feel an attraction to the white haired girl from the north. Her porcelain skin is always smooth and cool to the touch. Her brilliant blue eyes are like the clear blue skies she would once sit under with her long departed mother while they laugh and imagine whimsical beasts and imaginary places. Her long white hair moves like the finest of silk curtains as she walks from class to class, her nose turned up to their peers as if they are all beneath her. All except for her. She treats the Reaper with respect, with courtesy, and after a time, holds out a hand of friendship to her, one she takes willingly.

She finally has a friend, a real friend. Someone who cares for her, Ruby Rose.

But certain things stand out to her as well. The way she barely eats anything but meat, and even then almost bloody and nearly raw. The way she approaches every mock battle with the cunning of a predator on the hunt. The skill with which she wields her rapier, a dust revolver styled weapon she has named Myrtenaster, with near lethal intent even during the simplest of spars against anyone willing to challenge her. She is the only one who can stand against her, her own formidable rage and loathing a match for the heiress's feral cunning and ferocity.

But one late night, during a restless night they both secretly shared, a truth is told, and their lives are changed forever.

She herself couldn't sleep. It was the one thing she could always count on being able to do. It was her refuge from the reality of her world, and she retreated to it every chance she could. But tonight, she tosses and turns, she begs and pleads with the treacherous brain that won't stop thinking, and finally surrenders and gets dressed. Taking up her scythe, she easily steals away into the Emerald Forest, the guards ignoring her out of fear. She runs deeply into the darkened woods, no fear for the Grimm that hide in the shadows as well as whatever other creatures may dwell within.

She never realizes that a pair of blue eyes follow her, belonging to the single person who doesn't fear her. The only person who is beginning to secretly adore her.

She finally stops near the old temple to the Brother of Light, which has been long abandoned when he left Remnant to it's fate. Sitting down, she begins to cry deep tears of pain and sorrow. She hates her life now, she hates being taught to kill, to end the lives of others. She despises the fact that she is good at it. She never wanted this. All she ever wanted was to be a good sibling, a good daughter, a good student. All she ever wanted was to belong, to love a certain white haired girl and be loved in return.

She almost screams in terror when the great white furred head lays in her lap, with sad blue eyes that reflect her pain.

She stares at the great beast, marveling at the fact that a wolf has appeared here. One of the few things she has managed to remember from her poor studies is that the Grimm killed all the wolves when they first came to Vale. None were spared, and somehow she knows this one knows that. To her surprise, she begins to pet the wild creature, smiling softly at the way it's tail begins to wag as it whines. And then she begins to talk to it. She talks about her mother, her father, her sister, her life. She is soon sobbing in grief at the sadness of her life thus far, and is surprised to see tears in the white wolf's eyes as well.

But she forgot that sorrow is a feast for the Grimm, and they soon gather around her and the white wolf both.

She makes her decision. She throws her scythe to the ground and gives in completely to her sorrow. She is so tired. She is so tired of being turned into someone she wants nothing to do with. She's so tired of hoping people will finally love her instead of hate her or fear her. She is so tired of dreaming of a pair of blue eyes that will never look lovingly at her. She is ready, and the Grimm will feed well on her. But she doesn't expect the snarling, the sudden sounds of battle. Opening her silver eyes, they widen as she sees the once four legged wolf has vanished, a naked Weiss snarling in her rage as she wields Myrtenaster against the foul creatures.

"YOU KILLED THEM ALL!"

She stares at the rage filled young woman. She's never seen her fight with this much savagery, this much hate. Even in battles in which she is outclassed or outnumbered, she is still controlled. She uses superior tactics, the icy calm she is infamous for, and her obviously hidden rage to still rip victory from the jaws of defeat.

"ALL THE PACKS OF VALE ARE DEAD!"

She picks Crescent Rose back up. The white haired girl is beginning to frighten her, and she does not frighten easily. She watches in growing terror as an Alpha Beowolf appears, howling in challenge, Weiss's answering howl frightening her to her very soul. She watches as the white haired woman tosses her sword to the side and begins to growl as she grows. She listens to the popping of bone and sinew as fur begins to spring from her bare skin. She stares on in horror as the one friend she has ever made turns into…

A werewolf. A creature from Remnant's darkest stories has come to life before her, and is defending her while taking vengeance for the long dead wolves of Vale.

"You will not hurt my Ruby…"

She screams as Weiss leaps towards the Alpha, her fangs bared and her still hand shaped front paws slashing at the creature of darkness. The Alpha charges her as well, it's own jaws wide open to bite and tear at the white werewolf, it's own claws slashing at her unarmored and exposed flanks. She hears her friend's scream of pain as the Alpha strikes harder than she can, and causes more damage than she can possibly manage in return, and she finally leaps into action. Weiss is the first person to be her friend. She is the first person to treat her like a person. She is the first person she's allowed herself to start having feelings for in her short life.

She may be ready to die, but she will not let Weiss die for her own selfish desires.

Crescent Rose strikes the Beowolf quickly, breaking the Alpha and the werewolf apart as the Grimm leaps back to avoid the deathblow Ruby aims at it. But Ruby is enraged now. She sees the bright red blood upon the moonlit ground, and it adds to her fury. She hears the whimpers of the injured wolf, and it increases her rage. She roars in her righteous anger as her scythe becomes a blur, the Alpha soon howling in pain before Ruby's final blow comes in her scythe hooking around its neck before she pulls the trigger, decapitating the beast with one final roar of triumph. It takes her a moment to calm herself, a long moment in which she has forgotten her anger, her sorrow, her self loathing. And then she finally remembers Weiss. In a panic, she begins to look for her friend, desperate to ensure that she is safe.

It doesn't take her long to find her, and her scream of anguish can be heard back at Beacon.

Weiss has managed to get back to a small cave, her clothes as well as some supplies stacked neatly in the back. She herself is panting heavily as blood flows steadily from her injuries. But her tail thumps on the ground weakly as Ruby slides to the ground in front of her. She doesn't hesitate, but begins to treat the slashing wounds, bandaging them carefully while doing her best to ignore the pain filled shrieks from the badly injured werewolf.

"Oh Goddesses, I'm so sorry, Weiss. I'm so so sorry!" Is her litany as she keeps at her work, until the blood finally stops. Until the white wolf goes silent save for her panting.

The sun rises, then sets once more, but Ruby has yet to leave the white werewolf's side. Weiss has slept the entire time, but she has stayed awake. She is too scared to close her eyes, terrified that if she relaxes her vigil for even a moment, she will lose the most important person in her life. But her body's needs will not be denied, and she finally falls asleep, the large canine head still in her lap and her grip firm on Crescent Rose's handle.

She dreams of white fur and sky blue eyes. Of days spent watching the skies and laughing. Of feeling loved once more, and being confident in being able to return that love.

She moans as she feels the urgency of the lips on her own. Of the feeling of cold skin upon her own now bare skin. Of cold hands exploring her body and her own hands wandering across smooth, uninjured skin in return. She moans in longing as lips caress her skin with feather light kisses. As her own fingers discover places on the other willing body that bring moans of pleasure from a voice she has come to adore since beginning at Beacon.

But she moans loudly as teeth sink into her collarbone, a tender, almost loving bite from the woman she knows she loves deeply.

"Ruby…" Her voice is husky as she releases the love bite, full of longing and need. She can feel a certain heat against her leg that is foreign to the cold that the rest of her skin belies. She herself feels so hot, so needed. She has never felt like this before, and she wants more. She needs more. But her eyes widen as she catches her lover's hands as they grab at the hem of her panties, her face full of fear once more.

"Weiss… I…"

"I know, Ruby." Weiss smiles softly at the Reaper. "I know what you are. But I have wanted you for months now. Since I saw your strength for myself. Since I got to know the real you, and not your mask of anger and self loathing that you hide behind."

"Weiss…"

"Ruby, I am the last of my pack." The werewolf informs her sadly. "I came to Vale seeking the packs that once roamed here, hoping to join them and be safe." She sighs sadly, her blue eyes dimming. "I am beginning to fear I am the last of my kind."

She sits up and pulls the werewolf into her arms. She knows all the signs of sorrow, being well acquainted with them herself. "I… Weiss I'm damaged. Why would you want someone like me?"

Their eyes meet, quicksilver staring into sky blue. "Because I have been alone since I was a child. But you make me feel like I am home now." She cuddles deeper into the Reaper's arms. "I feel safe with you, and I know I can trust you with my secret."

Ruby takes a moment to think, to gather her thoughts while considering everything she has been told. But her thoughts always return to a pair of sky blue eyes she loves to look into. Coming to a decision, she lifts the werewolf's face by her chin with a single finger and kisses her deeply, while her free hand pulls her even closer.

This may be a mistake, but it is going to be the best one she ever makes.

The cavern is soon filled with their moans, their cries of pleasure, their whispered words of love, their need for one another. Their lovemaking is tender at times, frenzied at others, and intense throughout. Morning found them once again asleep, this time in each other's arms and in a tangle of limbs, a part of Ruby still inside the white werewolf, who smiles as she sleeps deeply. They wake upon that glorious morning and decide that Beacon has nothing left for them, and decide to seek their fortunes elsewhere. Someplace where no one knows either of them.

Someplace where their future children can grow up safely…

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Weiss declares her love for her, and for the werewolf, she will throw everything away for a future with her...

Ruby opens one silver eye, smiling at the blue eyed pup staring back at her eagerly as she whines. Sitting up, she yawns as she stretches, her mouth opening wide as her fangs gleam in the light of the morning sunlight. Bowing her head down low, she nuzzles the white haired silver eyed pup tenderly before the two of them leave the comforts of the small, modest home she and Weiss have built together. It has been a decade since she and the white werewolf left Vale far behind and traveled to Mistral. To their surprise, as they explored the deepest parts of the wilds of Anima, they encountered a village full of others like Weiss, led by a lioness named Pyrrha Nikos and her own mate, a human woman named Nora.

She had heard of Pyrrha, who had been reported killed in a massive battle at Haven Academy. A report fabricated by the woman herself so she too could escape with her own mate and their hard won freedom...

They had met so many others, who had fled the destruction of their own packs and prides, their own groups and hutches. They met Velvet, who was a kind and gentle soul of a wererabbit and her mate Coco, who was the heiress of Mistral's largest corporation and their secret benefactor. They met Blake, a panther who loves to read, and her chameleon mate Ilia. There had even been a tearful reunion between Weiss and her older sister Winter, who had also barely survived the destruction of their pack and had also fled. They even met a pair of birds who squabbled constantly, an overly violent Raven and her dusty, drunken Qrow of a brother.

But the biggest shock comes when they reach one small cabin in particular, where a lonely woman lives. A lonely woman long thought vanished by the young woman, but who in truth had been forced to leave by the man she thought loved her.

Ruby sobs as she rushes into her mother's arms, Summer Rose holding her tightly as she too weeps in joy. A mother and her daughter are reunited to their eternal joy, and Weiss cheers in her happiness for them both.

They talked late into the night, the white werewolf asleep in her mate's lap as mother and daughter catch themselves up on years of their lives. Summer is livid at how Ruby has been treated, how she has suffered for so long because of her absence. Ruby had been furious to discover that her mother had been driven off due to a twist of fate, as she had been bitten by another werewolf during a mission. She had been bitten to save her life, and had been punished for it.

Ruby made her own decision that same night, and smiled as her beloved sank her fangs into her skin in a love bite that would change her forever. She turned willingly, determined that Weiss, her sister, and her own mother will not be the last of their kind.

She quietly cheered her mother onward as she found the courage to move on with Raven, who adored her and treated her with kindness, respect, and love. She had happily held her baby sister when she was born two years later, Weiss still at her side and a smile on her own face to match the look of peace in her eyes. She and Weiss had themselves celebrated the birth of their twin pups a year later, naming them after both their mothers.

But the biggest surprise is still to come.

She still checks her scroll from time to time, she and Pyrrha both agreeing that they cannot remain ignorant of the outside world. There is still danger out there, both from the humans and faunus as well as the Grimm, and all while quietly offering safe haven to others like them, as well as their families. They as well as Raven and Nora are the defenders and leaders of their small community, and they take their responsibilities seriously. But Ruby had been surprised to find an email waiting for her one day, when she had travelled far to the south before turning it on, a feat she can accomplish with ease thanks to her semblance and now enhanced senses and superior stamina.

She never expected to hear from her sister ever again.

Downloading it, she returns to the village and her mate, asking her to read it for her. Weiss of course does so, having been the one who finally helped the Reaper figure out that she was not stupid like everyone in her life claimed, but struggled with severe dyslexia. She and Summer have been helping her learn to finally read and write, but it is a slow process, one she still finds herself getting frustrated with as well as embarrassed. Opening it, she soon stops to summon Summer, the two of them sobbing at the state of the brawler's life since they fled. Tai has placed his blame on his eldest for her disappearance, and she has suffered greatly for it. Her life is a disaster now, and she has already been in a failed marriage. She begs Ruby to at least reassure her that she is alive, that she is at least doing well, that her suffering is worth it if it means that the sister she long ignored is finally happy.

That they have traded places, and that her sister is finally whole in spirit and at peace.

Pyrrha does not hesitate to give her permission to bring Yang back. To allow them to reunite, so that she can see for herself that her wishes are indeed true, and that Ruby is happy and thriving. She goes and meets Yang at Mistral's airship port, where the two of them meet in a long overdue hug between sisters, and not the strangers they have been all their lives. They return together, where Yang is also overjoyed to be reunited with her own mother, Raven. Ruby herself nods in satisfaction that her sister is on her way to a peace of mind she now enjoys, and is grateful that she too settles into life in their village, calling it home as well.

Only she and Weiss bear witness to Winter sinking her fangs into Yang's flesh, the two of them falling in love in this place they too call home.

Summer and Luna play happily with the other children, who include their cousins and their aunt. They are gentle with their younger brother, and fiercely protective of their newborn sister. Ruby and Weiss have slowly become the leaders of their still growing safe haven, and lead both by excellent example as well as with hard learned wisdom and knowledge. They share a deep, beautiful commitment to one another that many envy, one forged in mutual understanding and undying love.

Weiss Schnee came into Ruby's life, and she has prospered...

[moonlights-inkwell]

Demand an Encore

Jaskier x Reader

Word Count: 6,958

Summary: anon said: hello! i see your requests are open...! could i maybe get a Jaskier x reader where the reader very shyly explains (maybe after an embarrassing moment?) that they are into spanking? and Jaskier indulges them and it is fluffy/smutty? if not, that's okay!! i figured I'd ask. thank you! 💜

A/N: Anon. I literally owe you my life, because Dom! Jaskier now literally lives rent free in my head. A fic from Jaskier's perspective? It shocked me too. Oops. Also. Clapping joke title on a spanking fic? I think I’m way funnier than I am  

Warnings: Smut. Spanking. Oral (female receiving). Clothed sex? Sorta. Discussions of Sadomasochism. Canon complicit violence. A very bad take on Jaskier's perspective.

Title from Wild Blue Yonder

“Oh wank!”  

The expletive draws his eyes from his lute and upwards, to you.  

You’re busy, always busy, swinging that blade about and clashing it noisily into Geralt's. Parry, swipe, dodge, sword fighting is as boring a sport as Jaskier can even imagine, only marginally better than fencing because at least there’s some danger to sword fighting. Paint drying is a more interesting thing to watch, lectures less painful to listen to. Jaskier hates it. Sparring holds no interest to Jaskier, beyond when he tries to describe how sword fighting looks for a new song, but there are no new songs. The monsters have seemingly realised that Geralt is about, and have kept themselves to themselves, and so the well of songs about danger and adventure has dried up- like a brook during a heatwave. There’s no song about battles to be won, and if he plays Toss A Coin once more then he’s quite sure that Geralt will shove his lute up his arse sideways. All he wants is to work on a new melody and the clanging is quite possibly the worst thing he can imagine. The clanging, clanking, crashing of steel on steel is enough to drive him to distraction. All he needs is a new song, but no. He simply must be tormented by the sound of metal hitting metal. Needs must apparently, at least when it comes to sparring. 

He’s sure Geralt is doing this to spite him specifically. Revenge for years upon years of songs and mindless chatter and taunting, wrapped up with the knowledge that the bard would never complain about your training- that your safety is paramount to him, even if it is noisy as all hell and infuriatingly distracting.  

Cornflower blue eyes scan up and take you in, on hands and knees and holding your sword at such an angle to block Geralt’s swipe; face crumpled with effort and concentration while the Witcher above is as stoic looking as ever, bringing his blade down closer and closer until you slide to the ground and roll away from the sword. The buckles of your over-bust drags against the ground and knocks loose two of the buttons of your blouse, revealing an expanse of skin below the clavicle and to the dip in skin between breasts.

He wonders, not for the first time, how you manage to fight in a corset. When he was a lad, a little longer ago now than he’s quite happy to acknowledge, how a girl at a ball had collapsed because her corset was laced too tight and even after fetching a healer, the girl walked awkwardly until he left for Oxenfurt, probably long afterwards too. Yet, you can fight in one, swing that blade around with a relative ease that Jaskier can’t even manage if his trousers are tailored too high in the crotch. It’s strange. Watching you duck and twist, bend and thrust that blade around all while being held in place by tightly laced bones, it’s impressive- like watching someone dance. You aren’t a master swords-man but you’re skilled and it’s nice to watch. The exhilarated grin across your face, panting with heaving chest: it’s beauty. Pure, unadulterated beauty, even with a smear of dirt across your cheek, sweat beading about your forehead and a nick on your arm that’s letting out a small but steady stream of blood trickling down from your upper arm.

“Better.” Geralt says firmly, Jaskier watches as your face breaks into a grin and you just glow. A relaxed, genuine smile that makes you look younger than you are. You've mocked him before for how he just soaks up any validation, but even the slightest praise has your skin all but shining, cheeks flushed and mouth upturned. He understands entirely. Praise, acclaim, acknowledgement, it’s addictive; more so than any ale, any drug. Praise leaves you desperate for more, shaking and craving a next hit, almost insecurely hoping against hope that any second will bring that much needed praise. Bard's are like faeries, they require attention to survive while thriving on the energy people give, And Jaskier has been desperate for attention long before he became a bard.  

Praise from the Witcher is a seldom given gift- one that Jaskier doesn’t think he’s ever been given- but he praises you. Training is important, and Geralt seems to have realised that he’ll catch more flies with honey than vinegar, so sparring is when he speaks most, even then it’s minimal though; but he compliments. Your form, your grip, the strength of blows. Praise from the Witcher is a seldom given thing.

Jaskier isn’t jealous.  

He isn’t.  

Jealousy implies that there’s something to be envied, like a possession that he wants. You aren’t a possession, he knows that, and even if you were, you wouldn’t be Geralt’s. His fingers fall from the frets of the lute, sending a sour note that makes him cringe out through the clearing.  

“Gods, Dandy- if that’s a sign of what your new song sounds like then I don’t think I want to hear it!” You call over to him, head tilted as the sword twirls between your fingers. “I thought you were supposed to be a good bard.”

“You wound me, Love. Wound me.”  

“No good bard would write Toss A Coin.” Geralt says, but there’s humour in his voice- well, humour enough for it to be noticeable against Geralt’s signature style of stoicism. Must be a good sort of day, for Geralt to be joking about and complimentary. These sorts of things don’t happen every day.  

“Leave him be, Bully!” You swat at Geralt's side, grinning at Jaskier. “Don't you worry, Dear Heart, I love you- even with this brute insulting you.” It’s as if you don’t even remember that you started the insults, but that smile is enough to keep him quiet. That must be a sign of love, that Jaskier could be quiet for you: he’s never been silent for anyone before, even when he had himself half-convinced that he was in love with every person he's spent more than a night with, he’s never been able to keep quiet for more than a few minutes or so, he’s felt an overwhelming need to fill the silence. It’s pleasant to just bask in atmosphere that comes from being about you.  

The swat at Geralt had not gone unnoticed, even if it took a moment or so for him to strike you. Geralt, facing Jaskier, lifted a hand to thump you on the back, too absorbed by the simple pleasure of retaliation to have perceived two very simple things with those enhanced Witcher senses: that the laces of your boots have come undone, and that you had bent down to tie it.  

Time slows sickeningly, as Jaskier realises what’s about to happen only a second before the SLAP comes through the air at a volume none of you anticipated. Not to the lower back, a spot that while painful is little more than inconvenient when hit, but instead to your arse- angled upwards as you bent to fiddle with the ribbons of your shoes. The white-haired man had wanted something vaguely friendly but still running with undercurrents of the same energy that comes from sparring, but instead he had brought one enormous hand down onto your arse with some force. Unexpected, and completely out of nowhere as it is, it somehow is not the most surprising part.  

The moan is.  

A loud, broken moan- somewhere between pain and pleasure- which Jaskier knows all too well. That sound haunts his dreams. Jaskier would know it blind, dumb and senseless. Your moan, normally reserved for during the nights when his fingers slide inside of you, when his tongue breeches you. It’s weak, beautiful, and oh so very unexpected. Its a noise more beautiful than music, more beautiful than the sound of children’s laughter- always his , finally heard by another. Geralt looks horrified, cat-like eyes wide and filled with something akin to fear, but nothing like the unadulterated horror written across your face; sun-coloured skin turning red with embarrassment, lips parted wide but slowly contorting into a grimace, eyes wide but watering.  

Jaskier forces himself up and towards you, while Geralt steps back, saying your name softly and apologetically,

“I am so sorry-"

“Little Miss-"  

“I'm going to the stream to wash!” You say loudly, side-stepping around Jaskier to make a beeline into the thicket of trees, where a stream was hidden. Without any thought, Jaskier groans and looks up at the Witcher, eyes narrowed into accusatory slits.  

“So much for those Witcher senses of yours.” It’s a ridiculous thing to be annoyed about. Geralt does not have any feelings for you beyond the platonic, and Jaskier knows that, knows full well that Geralt wouldn’t do something like that to you, least of all in front of your lover and a man far too willing to write humiliating songs about Geralt.  

“It was an accident.” All stoicism has returned to Geralt’s voice, despite the still apologetic look written across his features. “She’s going to hate me. She sounded so pained.”  

That almost made the Bard splutter with laughter. Moans like that are many things but not pained, at least not in a way that isn’t seen as pleasurable. Somehow, he manages to keep the laughter down and instead claps a hand to the taller man's shoulder.  

“I doubt she hates you. Missy is a resilient little thing.” He tries to sound comforting, but some humour seeps through, making Geralt turn and squint at him.  

“This isnt funny, Bard.”  

“I’m well aware.” Jaskier nods. “I'm going to check on her though. To make sure she hasn’t drowned herself.”  

“Don’t joke.”  

“I’m not.” He trills as he walks along the step-worn path to the trees.  

The stream is a pathetic little thing really, barely a foot in width and surrounded on all sides by the thickest section of trees which almost blocked out all light. It was easy to believe it was around dusk, but it couldn’t be much later than midday, the shade made it appear so much later than it was. And there was you, hunched over by the reeds and moss, scooping up water and splashing it in your face and onto the gash still trickling blood to try to clean it. Even in spite of the shadows, your flushed cheeks are still clear to him and he stops to take you in.  

He’s had many lovers. Too many to list really, but not one of them holds a candle to you. Every girl before you was perfectly primped and polished, in fine clothes with perfect hair and made up faces, and they were beautiful but artificially so. Made that way by clothes and corsets and cosmetics. You though, you’re something else. Beautiful with the sun in your eyes, unkempt hair and rumpled clothes. Indescribably perfect cast half in fire-light, with bags beneath your eyes and blood across your cheek. Sonnet worthy while drunk and stumbling, singing out of tune to his ever songs. Godly in the dark, mouth open and back arching towards him as you stumble headfirst into climax. He loves you. He loves you, and it’s the first time he thinks he has ever really loved anyone: more than infatuation, more than lust, but actual love. Love that makes his head muddled and heart sore. He doesn’t deserve you. Wants you, needs you, but will never deserve you. Reckless, wild and brilliant you, willing to leave a life behind to fight monsters. A fool. Beautiful little fool, selfless and-

“I can feel you staring at me.”

“Hard not to stare at a goddess. Careful, I hear some gods will drown pretty things like you out of jealousy.”  

“Fool.” You say softly, but there’s a chuckle in your voice so he comes closer to you, stepping behind you to twist your hair away from your throat to press a kiss to the crook of your neck.  

“Your fool.” He breathes out shallowly, letting his chin rest on your shoulder while his arms wind about your waist. “Are you alright, Dear Heart?”  

“Embarrassed, I suppose. My pride will recover though, Dandy.” The lightness of your words combined with your stiff posture makes sure Jaskier knows you’re lying.  

“Little Miss-"

“Geralt must be embarrassed as well. I should have apologised to him before-"

“You moaned.” He cuts you off, making you shut up, stiffening even more. “And you may try to deny it, but I know that noise. I might just be the only person who knows that noise.”

“Jaskier.” It sounds like a warning, but he doesn’t care.  

“If it’s because it was Geralt, I understand.” He says softly, feelings coming out unbidden. “I understand, of course, and I love you but I understand if I’m in the way.”  

“I liked it. Be... being hit. Not Geralt.” You whisper.  

It truly is a day of surprises. Jaskier can feel the grin slip onto his face and his hands move from your stomach to your hips to begin tickling.  

“Is that so?” He asks softly, revelling in your choked-out laughter and how you lean back against him. “My Little Miss wants to be spanked. Well, darling, you should have told me earlier.”  

“I didn’t know it was a thing!” You argue between laughs. Jaskier so often forgets that you were a virgin before he got his hands on you, so of course you hadn’t known. His tickling doesn’t stop as he pulls you backward, rolling you onto the ground and climbing on top of you to continue his assault.  

“Would you like a lesson in masochism, Dear Heart?” He teases, head tilting to the side as he looks down at you.  

“Maso-what?”  

“The pleasures of pain.” He explains, and watches how your face turns pink once more. “Oh, she does!”  

“Stop taunting me!” You argue, thrashing beneath him but not with any intensity.  

“Taunting? Never. I’m just trying to work out if I need to rent two rooms when we next go into town.” He too easily grabs at your arm when you reach up to swat at Jaskier. “For your lessons, I mean.”  

“You... weren't joking?” You ask lightly and he shakes his head.

“I never joke about teaching My Muse about what brings her pleasure.” He says lightly, climbing off of you to sit by your side. “If you want me to.”  

“You Wouldn’t mind?” You ask incredulously, drawing out a chuckle from the bard.  

“Darling-heart, don’t be a fool, of course I wouldn’t. You know how I like pleasing you, and having you know what pleases you pleases me. Besides, it’s hardly my first dalliance into sadomasochism; there was a countess I used to know who couldn’t achieve orgasm unless tied up, with wax melted on her and at least three people watching her-"  

“Jaskier.” You say softly, and he stops.  

“Sorry. What I mean is, liking someone slapping your perfect bottom isn’t something to be embarrassed by, darling. Alright?”  

“Alright. Thank you, Jaskier.”  

“No need to thank me, Dear Heart.”  

It takes weeks for Jaskier's plan to come to fruition. Weeks of traveling and camping in the woods until the three of you are able to find a town in need of a Witcher and his services. It’s a simple job, just a few drowners, but the pay is good and there is a very decent inn more than willing to accommodate all of you, and with two rooms none the less- which is far easier to negotiate while the two of you are off to do what you do. The inn-keep is a pleasant, portly man in his middle forties who seems to appreciate Jaskier's way with words, and is more than willing to forgo payment on the rooms in return for a show- and who is Jaskier to disagree with a deal such as that?  

His friendly demeanour is welcome too, means the Bard actually has someone to talk to while he awaits your return- but that plan dies a death when the job takes significantly longer than he expects. Normally, it only takes a few hours for something like this, but the sun is set and his songs just coming to an end when you finally return.  

The crowds, cider-drunk and rowdy had sang along to every song they knew, and sang over these they didn't- but that was fine. Drinking songs were always nice to hear, but their song dies when the door to the inn-cum-tavern opens and you pad in, followed closely by Geralt. Both drenched from tip to toe and scowling, hair stringy and clothes dark with saturation. That explains a fair bit and even with how upset you look, Jaskier grins, grip on the lute loosening and stage persona rolling off of him. Wet and angry as the two of you are, the sight of you is enough to make the crowd let out a loud, drunken cheer before beginning an enthusiastic if out of tune rendition of Toss a Coin. For once, the Bard is uninterested in joining in and instead opens his arms wide for you, it takes less than a minute for you to run to him and wind your arms around his middle while the people mill around Geralt to interrogate him about monsters and the like. Jaskier sighs and presses a kiss to your forehead.  

“You had me worried.”  

“Almost drowned. But I’m fine.” You say apologetically against his jerkin. “Tired though.”  

“I’ve booked our room. And I think my performance is over.” He says soothing, fingers carding through your wet hair. “Come on, Darling-heart.” He offers a hand, though it takes you a moment or so to reluctantly pull back from him you take it and follow him up to your rented room.  

The room is tiny, little more than a box room with just a bed and small table but it’s clean and that is more than enough for you. Before even a minute can pass, you release Jaskier's hand to flop down onto the bed, moaning when you sink down into the mattress.  

“Comfortable?” He asks playfully and you hum in agreement.  

“I got you wet.” You reply after a minute and Jaskier chuckles.  

“I don’t mind, now wait here. I’ve something to sort out for you.” The door clicks as he slips out of the room and you’re alone in the room, just you and the tingling sensation running through your body and making your brain feel as if a mist has descended over it, yet you don’t even realise it until the door opens once more and you lift your head up to look at the noise. It’s a girl, looking about fourteen or so, carrying two large buckets to the archway across from the bed which you had not even noticed, and in your drunken haze you consider why she would be taking buckets to another room through yours. Jaskier follows after her, buckets hanging from each hand and you notice how steam is billowing from the buckets until he disappears beyond the doorway. Confusion comforts your mouth into a frown, so instead of giving it much thought you let yourself sink back into the mattress, deciding it not worthy of a second thought. Water crashing against water echoes from the other room as your eyelids grow heavy and slip shut. Someone had told you once that the sound of water is enough to drive even an insomniac to sleep, you believe them in this moment, the sound of water is so relaxing to your dazed mind that you don’t question why you can hear it at all, so you simply shut your eyes and listen. You have no idea how long you lay there, listening and breathing, it could be seconds or millennia.

“Are you awake, Dear Heart?”  

“hmm?”  

“Come on, I ordered you a bath, you need it.” A bath. You smile and he grins at you. “Now, darling. Come along. You'll soak the sheets through.”  

“I'll soak you through.” You retort tiredly, rolling off of the bed and toeing off your boots before following him into the bath's room. He watches as you walk through and is upon you within seconds, unlacing your corset and unlacing your chemise before you can move your fingers to do it for yourself. “Julian, I know you find me attractive but stripping me?”

“I don’t want you dying of cold.” He chides playfully, kissing the exposed akin of your shoulder as he pulls off the blouse. “Forgive me for loving you.”  

“I love you.” You say softly and untie your trousers, pulling them and your underwear off in a single movement. He smiles at the sight and presses a hand to your lower back once you step out of the sopping fabric.  

“I know, muse. Now in.” He says encouraging you into the bath, turning to fiddle with a few vials of scented oils. “Rose, Lavender or honeysuckle?”  

“Lavender. It smells like you.” You say softly and sink into the water, letting out a loud moan when the heat overtakes you. He turns back to you with a smile and pours a little of the oil into the water.  

“Oh, you like the smell of me?” He teases and moves around towards you.  

“Of course, I do.”  

He smiles at that and sinks down to his knees behind the tub at your back and picks up a rag, soaking it in the water and then moving it up to rub at your shoulders and the knobbles of your spine. The sweet floral smell is carried on the steam coming from the water, sweet and familiar and made all the better by the contented noises that come from you. He likes you like this, all pliant and sleepy and willing to let him help without complaint, it makes him feel useful in ways he never can on hunts. You shoulder so much, act so brave and mature and it’s so nice to see you just let him take control and look after you. He hums a little tune as he washes your back and feels your back move as you chuckle.  

“Tickles.” You say, giggly and more awake than before. “What song is that?”  

“It’s something my mother used to sing.” He says gently, scooping up some water with his hands and pouring it over your head before working out some of the tangles in your hair. “I don’t think it has a name.”  

“It’s pretty.” You hum, head tilting into his hands like a kitten. “Why aren’t you in here with me?”  

“I got the bath to warm you up, Silly Little Miss. I’m warm.” He says with a sigh and pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck.  

“I want to touch you." You whine, twisting around to face him.  

“There's time for that later, Dear Heart. “ He shakes his head affectionately and kisses the tip of your nose. “I have plans for you tonight.”  

“Oh?” You ask, leaning up on your knees and allowing your breasts to lean against the lip of the tub. It’s a trick, trying to lure him in, and he knows it, but gods above it’s tempting. Far too much willpower is exerted to not reach out and take them into his hands. A siren, sent to toy with his heart and mind. He sighs and leans in to kiss you gently.  

“You remember a few weeks ago? When Geralt slap-"  

“Yes!” You interrupt quickly and he rolls his eyes, reaching up to smooth your hair down.  

“And you said you liked the feeling?”  

“I remember, Jaskier.”  

He smiles and rubs his thumb across your cupid’s bow.  

“Well. We have the room to ourselves, so I thought that we could experiment with that."

You blink at him owlishly before squinting at him. It would almost be enough to worry him, but he knows you too well to think you’re angry- you’re confused, but still very relaxed.  

“Experiment.”  

“Yes.”

“With you... hitting me.”  

“With you letting me dominate you, spank you, and make you feel good.” He clarifies. It sounds foolish, and far too perverse when laid out so candidly to someone not well versed with this. You nod sagely.

“...And if I ask you to stop them you will.”  

“Of course I will.” He says seriously and rests his hands on your shoulders, leaning in so you are eye to eye. “This is for your enjoyment, if you say stop, this stops. Just like always.” You smile and close the gap between his lips and your own. It’s soft and lazy, with no indication of proceeding any further than just chastely kissing, his hands still on your shoulders and your hands creeping up into his hair. It’s perfect, always is, and not for the first time, Jaskier considers that he could spend the rest of forever just kissing you and never be bored. Still, all too soon he pulls away, fetching a towel while you heave yourself out of the tub waiting for the bard and the towel. Even though you reach for it, Jaskier ignores your outstretched arms and instead swaddles you in it himself, drying you.  

“I can do it myself!”

“You can, but you won't.” He says firmly, rubbing your skin. Beneath the soft fabric, he can feel you start to struggle which makes him hum and swat at your arse. It’s not enough to hurt, especially through the towel, but it serves as a good warning for who is in charge tonight. Dominance is nothing new for him, but he isn’t dominant with you. You were a virgin when he met you, all sex had to be approached with kid-gloved hands, even now that you are confident with it Jaskier has never felt any need to try and guide you towards that sort of thing. Submission, he had assumed, would be a difficult thing for you; you spend so much time fighting and fending for yourself during fights, asking you to hand over control never seemed to be a good idea. Control keeps you safe but you trust him. Trust him enough to give him control. It’s enough to rush to his head, that level of trust. Of course, it’s flattering when anyone allows him control, but it means so much more when someone who loves him, someone who is so dangerous would allow themselves to be vulnerable. He loves you, has since the second he clapped eyes on you, but this is more than love now, this is adoration. “Now, be a good girl and don’t argue.” Seldom does Jaskier have a need to be stern, so you doing as he says is to be expected. You go limp, eyes wide as he towels you dry. “There’s my good Little Miss.” He says once he finishes, folding the cloth while you stand stock still, pupils blown wide.  

“Good.” You repeat back to him, starry-eyed and blushing, so he presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth before nodding.  

“Well, you are my Good Little Miss, aren’t you?” He asks gently, watching the enthusiastic nod he gets in response with a smile. “I know.” He says with an air of finality, turning away from you and heading back into the bedchambers to sit on the bed. It takes a few seconds of silent sitting for you to finally walk to the doorway. You’re naked as the day you were born, wet hair hanging in snakelike tendrils around your face, skin glowing gold from the warm light of the fire reflecting off of the still damp flesh. You’re beautiful. Too beautiful, comfortable in your skin and his looking at you, pale criss-crossing of scars running across the planes of your body like gold holding formerly broken ceramics together. How Jaskier has ever gotten a chance to lay his hands on you is beyond him, why a bard such as himself can even look at you, never mind touch or kiss you. A goddess, battle-hardened and wise, intoxicating and intense but oh so soft and kind.

“You’re staring.” You laugh, leaning against the door frame and smiling at him.  

“Yes. Yes I am.” Jaskier says simply and beckons you closer, which you do with a slight swing of your hips that he is entirely sure isn’t purposeful. You settle beside him, looking at him with a look somewhere between reverence and fear- like he's simultaneously the most beautiful and awful thing you’ve ever seen. He hates how much he likes it, the power it feels like he possesses in this moment. You look so small and defenceless, and he is too aware of how large he is by comparison. Usually, Jaskier feels slight- especially in comparison to Geralt and his hulking mass of muscle and manliness- but he’s suddenly far more aware of how big his hands are compared to your own, how he almost dwarfs you in height. You aren’t dainty, and he knows how much damage you can do with little to no effort, but you look so now.  

You lean in to him slowly and tilt your head, taking him in before smiling with a raised eyebrow. Well? Your face seems to scream. I'm waiting. It’s all the encouragement he needs to put his hand between your shoulder blades and push your torso over his lap unceremoniously. Every jutting bone, every knobble of spine, outline of rib exposed when you let out a noise of mild confusion, but rest there with your stomach over his thighs. His fingertips, calloused from lute strings but still soft from the warm water, trail down your back slowly; his skin is colder than yours, leaving goose pimples in his wake as he moves towards the rounded flesh of your arse.  

Pink and pert, the flesh juts out from the dip at the base of your spine, like a peach. Jaskier loves it. Loves all arses really. There is something so strangely enticing about them, likely the fact they’re so often covered that seeing them seems taboo in a way that seeing tits isn’t. Every inch of your skin that he gets to see is a luxury not afforded to others, and while his hands finally reach the plump skin, he had been moving towards he kisses your back, gripping one cheek firmly while rubbing soft circles into the other. A moan, airy and musical comes from you spurring Jaskier in his ministrations: shifting the cheek to the side, revealing a hole he had never paid much mind to at all, only to release his hold and watch as it bounces back into place. The jiggle is hypnotic, he thinks to himself wordlessly as he repeats the act on the opposite cheek, earning another moan from you in response.  

“Jask.” You whine out and he hums in confirmation, feeling you push yourself back against his hand. “Don't tease.” He chuckles. Teasing is hardly what he'd call it. No, this is isn’t teasing, teasing is something gentler than this. This is preparation. He can hardly just start spanking you, especially when you've never done it before, but the whining makes him smirk. “Jask, if you don’t hurry, I’ll go to bed.” You insist and try to push yourself off of him, so he presses down on the middle of your back and brings his hand down on your arse harshly.  

The sharp sound of skin-on-skin rings through the air, followed by a gasp. A tingle ran across his palm, and he snicks at the sensation.  

“I thought you were my good girl, not a brat, Missy.” He says, voice low and on the verge of a growl. “I told you, I am in control tonight. Not you.”  

Brat. You shiver at that, going still, and he smirks, grabbing the cheek he had just struck before tugging at it. He releases it before sliding his hand up your thigh.  

“I. I can be good.” You whisper meekly. That isn’t enough though and he swats at the cheek once more, lighter this time.  

“You will be good.” He corrects you, leaning in close to your ear and catching sight of your red cheeks and misty eyes. “I know you will be, won’t you Darling?” You nod quickly and he smirks. “That's my Princess.”  

At that, your posture loosens and you relax against him. Praise. That’s good to know. Lazily, he rubs a circle against the curve of skin before striking it once more.  

“I'm going to hit you ten times, and I want you to count them out loud for me. Can you do that for me?” He asks gently and you nod instantly. “I need you to use your words, Darling.”  

“I. I can do that.” You say, tilting your head to look at him with a sweet smile. Jaskier smiles back at you, then brings his hand back down with a hard slap.  

“One!” You say loudly, jolting forward and dragging your stomach across his crotch. He’s been so invested in planning and preparing that he hasn’t even noticed the hardness developing between his legs until it’s rubbed against. The moans from the bath had been enough to make him half hard, but seeing you like this, lips parted and the skin of your bottom turning an inviting shade of pink, it’s enough to have him fully hard.  

“Two!” You shout out after his hand lands hard against your rear before two more swats come in quick succession.  

“Three! Four!” The numbers are more moans than words, loud and needy. In the back of his mind, Jaskier wonders if the drunks downstairs are still singing and making noise, shouting and swearing, or if they too can hear the moans of pleasure. It’s sick, but he wants them to hear. Wants them to hear the pretty song that you’re moaning out, to look at you in the morning as you shift uncomfortably in your seat and know how you loved every second of it, see him smirk and know exactly who drew every noise from you.  

He’s a bard. He knows how to make noises, but these might just be the prettiest ones yet. A hand rubs at the pinking skin and then, quickly as it comes it's gone and brought down, this time to the space where arse meets thigh.

“Five!”  

He could listen to you moan all day. Sex, or at least sex while travelling, is normally a quiet affair. Quiet murmurs of affirmation, whispered begs and pleas, it’s not enough. Jaskier loves sex, loves the intimacy that comes from being as close to someone as humanly possible, but more so than the enjoyment of sex, Jaskier loves the theatrics of sex. Sex is like performing. Doing all possible to please an enthusiastic audience, listening to the sounds of enjoyment as it builds and crescendos, fingers moving faster, doing his best to not make a fool of himself.  

“Six!”  

Slap!

“Seven!”  

He can’t help himself from hoping that this won't be a one-time occurrence. For a few stolen moments you can hand over control to him and give the both of you what you need.  

“Eight!” Your stomach rubs against his cock once more and he chokes back a moan. You'll be the death of him. Ruin him entirely. It isn’t enough that he loves you, isn’t enough that you are the most beautiful person he could dream up, no you have to do things like this. Unintentionally ideal. Perfection given human form.  

“Nine!”  

His hand comes down one final time and you scream out a broken, “Ten!”, and Jaskier heaves out a sigh, rubbing the red skin as gently as he can to soothe you when you begin to tremble. Calloused fingertips slide softly across the abused flesh.  

“Oh Darling. My good girl. My good, brave little miss.” He coos sweetly, gently guiding you up to sit on his lap, one hand still running the skin while the other threads itself in the hair at the nape of your neck. “You did so well.” Gently, he presses his forehead against your own, staring into tear filled eyes. “Oh, Dear Heart, did you not like it?” Worry washes over him suddenly. He should have reminded you that you could say no once more, that he wouldn’t be disappointed.  

“Kiss me.” You breathe back against his lips and he sighs softly, hand shifting to your jaw to tug you into a chaste kiss. You tremble against his lap, but kiss back far more forcefully than he had kissed you. Gentle but seeking, tongue pushing between his lips to make its way into his mouth. He smirks slightly, but doesn’t open his mouth, feeling you rock against his lap- sweet nectar between your legs dripping through the fabric of his trousers while shaking fingers toy with the lacing of his doublet.  

“Darling-"  

“You're wearing far too much.” You whine pulling back to stare at him. “Take it off.”  

“Take what off?”  

“Everything.” One word has never held so much weight. He could look at you like this for always, so soft and desperate and wanting- it makes his heart beat faster and his cock jumps against the heat of your core. He wants to strip himself, rid himself of the offensive articles and just let you take from him all that he has, but he holds your jaw gently instead, using the warm skin as a means to ground himself once more.  

“Ask nicely.”  

“Jaskier.” You say with a slight scowl, but he narrows his eyes and tilts his head, trying not to laugh at your intent look. “Please. Please strip.”  

“I think you can ask nicer than that, Dear Heart.”  

“Julian, please take off your clothes. Please.” You ask softly and trail your hands along the chemise beneath his half-unlaced jerkin. “Please, Dandy? I want to touch you- can I?”  

The pet name brings a soft smile to his face, hands moving to your hips to shift you onto the bed before undoing the rest of his jacket and shucking it off, to toss it to the side. Ducking down, he peppers a few feverish kisses to your thighs, toying with the ties of his chemise while you tug it over his head. Needy and half frenzied is unlike you, but he can’t say that it isn’t perfection. Shy, unsure sex has been too common, the occasional rushed shag when you two can spare a few seconds less frequent, but this magically manic need is sweet. Jaskier is a performer; performers preen under the watchful eye of attentive audience, need the knowledge of a job well done, which he normally gets from you in the form of moans and frantic rutting. This enthusiasm is perfection, especially while his face is so close to your cunt that he can smell the arousal dripping from it.

Nudity can wait, The Bard smirks, grips your thighs in a vice-like grip and widens the distance between them so he can get his mouth on your sex, tongue gathering slick and relishing that sweet, musky taste. Sweeter than any fruit, more addictive than any wine. Jaskier’s lips find your clit, that bud of nerves that might as well contain every breathless moan that you can fit in your body, and sucks, tongue flicking across it with the moans and curses that such an act wrings from you. Nose buried in the curls that cover your mount, cornflower eyes look up to take you in, writhing in ecstasy, breasts quivering with every stuttered breath. He knew that he had missed something while spanking you’d but it falls into place now. Your face.

Every emotion flit across it, as clear to read as sheet music to him. You have an expressive face at the best of times, but it only seems heightened by sex. He knows many men prefer not to face their lovers and, hell, in his more adventurous days had preferred it himself, but seeing how you feel written across your features is part of the joy of sex. It had taken a while to convince you to stop silencing yourself during intimacy, that those moans are his and hard earned, but those expressions mean even more. Miniscule twitches of the brows and lips that let him know that you enjoy what he is doing, he loves them. Loves you. Those noises are meaningless without that face, pink and contorted with pleasure. That face. He could stare at it all day.

He doesn’t miss Lettenhove, not for a minute, but he does miss paintings. Portraits, moments trapped in time, forever perfect. He wants a painting of moments like this; nothing pornographic, just your face, with not a care for anything but pleasure. To see him through those nights when hunting takes too long and he's long asleep by the time you return. A little painting to have with him always.  

“Jaskier-" You whimper, fingers curled into his hair and tugging. “Please. Please.”  

He hums softly and slaps your thigh, revelling in the sweet little gasp that comes from you before a gush of fluid hits his lips. The Bard pulls back and blinks in shock. You’re shaking, twisting in the blankets as he just breathes you in. Squirted. You just squirted on him. He was half convinced that such a thing was just A rumour but... you did it.  

Blinking rapidly, Jaskier stares up at you awestruck and starry-eyed, trying desperately not to spill into his trousers.  

Oh yes. This is going to be a regular occurrence.  

[obxfishon]

Chasing Waterfalls

(this gif has my heart (LOOK AT THAT SMILE), creds to the creator)

JJ x Reader

Description: Emotions flow like the water in the waterfall.

Prompts: “I wish I had a boyfriend.” “so what do you look for in a guy?” “real stuff, like the shape of his ass” “So, I found this waterfall…”

Word Count: 1.9k (I’m slacking sry)

“BYE MOM I’LL BE HOME TOMORROW!” You scream as you run from the house.

John B’s was pretty close, and you were about to make today unforgettable. The crew had been down in the dumps thinking that there wasn’t anything new for them to do, it was just the same old same old, but you found something at work yesterday.

You work at the country club with JJ, you both applied together a few summers ago when it was becoming apparent that you needed money to go on all the adventures.

While bussing a table yesterday, the girls behind you were talking about this amazing hike that led to a waterfall that had water deep enough that you could jump off into it. You read the name from their tab and searched for her instagram, sure enough she was public and posted the pictures from the hike with a location tag.

Saving the location you texted the Pogues to meet at John B’s tomorrow with food, proper shoes and a bathing suit. You didn’t want to give too much away but they needed to be at least a little prepared for what you had planned.

Racing onto the property you see that you are the last one to arrive, the rest all sitting on the porch trying to figure out what you have planned.

“Are you all ready to have the best day of your life?” You questioned as you jumped onto the porch with them.

“C’mon (Y/n), just spill, what do you have planned?” Kie asks, excitement evident in her voice.

“So, I found this waterfall, well I actually heard about it at work yesterday, but then I found the location and we’re gonna spend the day there!” You explain, watching the smiles grow on everyone’s faces.

“It’s about an hour and a half drive, but I think it’ll be so worth it!” You finish, slightly jumping up and down.

Everyone smiled and nodded and started packing everything that would be needed for the trip.

“(Y/n),” JJ squeezed you into a tight hug and spun you in a circle, “you have saved us all from extreme boredom, so, you’ve been moved up in the rankings and have become my favorite person, John B you’re now in second.”

“HEY! I thought I was forever at first?!” John B yelled from the van.

“Well I haven’t heard you offering any fun ideas, but you do house me and drive me places, just be happy you're still towards the top.” JJ remarked and grabbed the last load of things to bring to the van, throwing a wink your way.

You met JJ and the rest of the group when you moved here a few years back, your mom ran a convenience store that kept you afloat for the most part, getting a job at the county club helped you guys have a little extra cash after the bills were paid.

You clicked with the group better than anyone thought possible, together you all formed a family and there was nothing that could wedge between you all.

—-

The drive was full of awful karaoke and dances between all of you. The energy was unmatchable, everyone just letting go of the stresses of home.

Quicker than expected you all arrived and gathered the necessary belongings into backpacks before setting off on the small hike to where the waterfall was waiting.

It was a hot day and this seemed to be a popular spot to come so there were quite a few other people when you came over the final hill and laid eyes on the waterfall.

It was beautiful, the water fell perfectly and the water was a crystal blue, speckled with a few other people enjoying the cool water.

The group set up towels and the rest of the stuff in a sunny spot before heading for the ledge that people were jumping off. Kie wasted no time in running to the ledge and jumping off, letting out a yell of pure joy as her feet left the ground, she resurfaces with the biggest smile on her face, calling for the rest of you to follow.

John B, Sarah, and Pope followed, but you hesitated due to the nerves that came out of nowhere, JJ picked up on this.

“M’lady,” JJ held out a hand, offering a little extra confidence with it, that you took before both running to the end and jumping off, not letting go of him until you had to in order to swim back to the surface.

Everyone was swimming and throwing water on eachother, occasionally getting out to jump back in again moments later.

After a good amount of time it was decided to get out and take a little snack and rest break, so the group moved to the towels and relaxed in the warm sun.

Looking out to the water again you watch as a couple clung to each other as they floated around the water, just based on the way they looked at each other you could tell they were in love. Without thinking you opened your mouth.

“Ugh, I wish I had a boyfriend,” eyes slightly widening when it came out of your mouth, but you shrugged it off, everyone wished that… right?

“You know, (y/n), I don’t think I’ve ever even known you to date, have you?” Sarah moved her head up to look at you, as well as the rest of the group now.

“Nope, it’s hard to find someone who can handle me,” you smirked.

It was true, you hadn’t really dated before, sure you had crushes and had been in that weird talking stage before, but nothing ever became official.

You were a very strong willed girl, you knew what you wanted and how you wanted to be treated, and some people just seemed to be turned off or scared of that.

You also currently had a crush so deep that it didn’t really let you see anyone else as an option. As soon as you met JJ it was hard to ignore the butterflies that came every time he brushed your shoulder or smiled so big that it reached his eyes, just the small things.

“What do you even look for in a guy?” Kie propped her head up on her hands.

“Oh you know, real stuff, like the shape of his ass.” You smirked again and looked back at the group to see them all rolling their eyes and scoffing.

“Okay but really, what would it take to sweep you off your feet?” This time John B pushed.

Realizing you weren’t gonna be able to joke your way out of this you shrugged your shoulders.

“I mean, I don’t know. I want someone strong willed like myself, someone who really cares, would be willing to drop anything in order to help someone,” sighing you continue, “he needs to be a good listener, willing to pay attention to the little things. He needs to be able to make me laugh, that’s a big one. Oh! And someone who is giving, not like buying me things, I don’t need that, but someone who is willing to give me their time and is willing to work on things together.” You nodded your head and looked at them all, just staring back at you.

“You want someone the opposite of what your dad was.” JJ locked eyes with you and you felt your smile falter a bit.

“Yeah... yeah I guess.”

Your dad was awful to your mother, always told her that he could have done better, just rude and uncaring. When you were 12 your mother caught him cheating. She packed the two of you up and you left, she didn’t have a destination in mind, just drove until she ran out of land, literally. The two of you happened to stop at a gas station by the ferry and saw a listing for the small house that you two lived in now. She paid for a hotel for the week, got things in order to buy it, and set divorce papers to your father all in that week.

After that you two had started thriving in this new house, just you and her. Of course the divorce got messy, but he gave up custody of you without a fight, so after a year the divorce was final and you and your mother never spoke of him again.

“I learned from my mother what it means to be a strong woman, she taught me what it means to love someone, how to find the attributes of that love in someone else. She also taught me about where she went wrong, I know what traits can quickly turn toxic so when I see that in someone I keep my distance.” You are looking at the ground trying to hold back the tears.

Feeling an awkward silence you stood and plastered a fake smile on.

“I don’t know about y’all but I’ve had enough rest, I’m gonna go jump in again.” Nodding you turned and quickly walked to the other side of the water where the ledge was, where you were slightly hidden from the others.

Taking a deep breath you closed your eyes and just tried to forget about the memories that we’re trying to break through, this was supposed to be a fun day, so dammit you were gonna be happy.

“Hey, (y/n), are you okay?”

Your eyes shoot open to see JJ staring back into your own.

“Uh,” you plastered the smile back on, “yeah, yeah I’m fine!”

“Bullshit,” JJ pushes your hair behind your ear and then takes you into his arms, holding you in a tight embrace, “I’m sorry I brought up your dad, I know it’s a touchy subject, I wasn’t thinking, trust me of all people in our group I understand not wanting to talking about your dad, but you know I’m here for you no matter what.”

He felt a sob shake your body in his arms and held you closer, rubbing small circles on your back, then pulling away from you to wipe your tears.

“(Y/n), I’ll give you my time, my attention, shit, I’d give my life for you,” JJ looked down at his feet then met your eyes with his own, “I hate to see you in pain, let me make you happy, okay?” He smiled at you and you felt a smile grow in your own face, nodding as he wiped the rest of your tears from your cheeks.

He pressed a short kiss to your forehead and grabbed your hand as you two walked towards the original destination.

“You know, as far as the qualities you look for in a guy, I do have to say, I DO have the best ass around,” he looked at you, causing a short giggle.

“Eh I dunno, could use some work.” You tried to hide your smile as you passed him, your hand reaching out slapping his butt as you sprinted for the ledge, hoping he wouldn’t be able to catch you.

He caught up to you at the very end, grabbing your waist before you both launched off the cliff.

After landing in the water he kept his hold on you, you both just floated together, you head resting back on his shoulder.

Maybe he would be the first boy that passed your test, the one to finally break down your walls.

Only time would tell.

[asa-sauce]

those forgotten things

❀ haikyuu!! x (ukai’s kid!) reader

flavor: honey mustard  

warnings: none!

a/n: hi, sorry for the long wait! if you're coming from my tiktok, thank you for the continued support! i don’t know who the specific love interest is going to be, so for now it’s basically the entire karasuno team x reader.

note: ukai is your adoptive father. and this takes place at very very end of season 1/very beginning of season 2. you are 16.

+ Your dad, Ukai Keishin, forgets his water bottle at the convenience store before practice. You decide to bring it to him... Big mistake.

The bell on the door announces your presence with a gentle chime, and the cool air coming from the ancient air conditioner hits your face.  It's a heavenly relief from the sizzling heat, and you thank heaven for the store being so close to school.

"Hi dad! I'm home!" You call out, but no answer comes.

"Where is he?" Misaki asks, head bobbing up and out like a buoy. There's a prep in her voice now, like a child at an amusement park.

"He's probably in the back or something, I don't know." There's no one else in the store.

She sets her heavy, multi-key chained school bag next to the chair, and you notice that the normally happy face of the plush bunny keychain is smushed against the table leg, smile distorted into a frown.

She starts her jaunty browsing around the store, weaving in and out of each aisle. You do the same, not knowing what you're in the mood for, and meet her at the candies and gum.

"Seriously, Y/n, how do you not find your dad attractive?" The question catches you off guard, and you find yourself quickly scanning the front of the store for any customer that might have just walked in. Did she really just ask that?

You swivel around in a slow, dramatic way, giving her an incredulous look that just about asks that question. She looks at you with that casual—but all too serious—charm, as if she had simply asked what the weather is going to be like tomorrow.

"'Cause he's my dad." She rolls her eyes, dissatisfied with the answer, then juts her head forward just enough to add more emphasis on her next words.

"But he adopted you. You aren't blood-related."

You stare at her. She can't be completely serious, right?

You and Misaki met last year on the first day of school. Meeting her was like something out of an anime. The rambunctious airhead meets the quiet, down-to-earth girl who just can't say no to people.

She literally proclaimed your friendship to the world on that first day of school.

So this: her apparent infatuation for your dad, is very far out there, yes. Yet in retrospect, it's nothing beyond her character.

"Jeez, you're weird," you say, deciding to smile it off. You turn to grab a neon blue bag of chips from the shelf beside you. Misaki laughs, head thrown back, in a maniacal way, and disappears behind the aisle end. "Did you get your food yet?"

"Yeah." She's chosen a popsicle today, already unwrapping it while she continues to peruse the aisles more, just for fun. Her fingers drag along the underside of each plastic price tag, making a clackclackclackclackclak sound that's almost ominous.

"How much is it?" You ask, to which she tells you. You go over to the cash register and take out the appropriate change from your wallet, placing each bill and coin into the correct spaces. Even though you're a member of the family-owned store, a business is still a business, and the small ones like this especially need anything and everything they can get to thrive.

Misaki sits at the table for a few minutes, and you guess that she's waiting for your dad to come back out. She's slouched over her brightly lit cellphone screen, her thumbs continually pattering as she responds to all her messages.

It's awkward.

Even though you and Misaki have gotten pretty close since meeting each other, those uncomfortable silences still sometimes appear.

But then she begins talking about a boy she's been texting these past few weeks, mostly talking it out with herself then seeking your advice. You give simple reactions, and comment when she expects it. A simple 'he did not!' or 'ugh!' will satisfy her.

Of course it's not all that one-sided. She talks, you listen; you talk, she responds. And quite frankly, you don't mind it.

But then the silence emerges once again, until she lets out a big, audible, intentional sigh and stands up.

"Well, I gotta head home, my mom's getting fussy about something again." She shoves her phone in the side pocket of her bag, short hair whipping around as she hoists her bag over her shoulder.

"Okay, see you tomorrow, Misaki." You can feel the breath of relief beginning to grow inside your lungs as she collects her things and heads for the door.

"Yup. Tell your dad I said hello!"

"I will."  

No you won't.

And with a final automated jingle of the door chime, she leaves. You wait until the white bunny keychain on her bag is no longer in view to release that breath of relief.

And then, you smile.

"Alright, dad! You can come out now!" you announce, your head tipped back towards the blue curtains. In a comical way, just the face of your father appears, with tufts of yellow hair sneaking out behind him. With his eyes wide he scans the room, side to side, searching for any trace of your friend.

"Is she gone?"

"Yeah, she is."

The rest of him appears then.

Ukai sits himself on the slanting, rickety stool behind the counter that is literally almost on its last legs, with his feet propped up. It's his way of "intimidating" all the "shitheads" that come through after school—is what he says.

You hop onto the counter, splitting open the chip bag. A puff of flavored air travels up into your nose.

"How was that English quiz today?" Ukai asks, catching a whiff as well while you pop the first chip into your mouth.

"Good. I got a 97." you reply after swallowing.

"That's my girl."

You hum in response, munching on another chip. Looking into the bag, you spot a wider, saltier chip that curls at one end. It takes up half the amount of chips, you realize as you take it. It should be a crime, you think, to fill up more than half of the bag with air.

"I'm gonna leave here a little earlier for practice tonight. A few of the boys wanted me to help them with a couple new combinations."

He swings his legs off the counter and sits up, mumbling something about wishing he had taken a nap before walking back into the house to change.

You go through the motions of unpacking your school bag, decideding to work on math first.

You spread your textbooks and papers out on the counter, an organized mess as you like to say, of calculus.

Your pencil moves rapidly across the page, the little flower charm on dangling back and forth with each squiggle.

Your dad leaves around ten minutes later, but not before giving you a quick kiss on the head. The sun is still high and proud, and has no intention to descend until an hour or more later.

It's your favorite time of day. The sun falls through the glass doors in a way that makes the entire world seem just a little more fanciful. It's usually quiet in the store, and after an entire day of constant conversations from you and those around, you can't help but yearn for these peaceful moments. It's entirely why you agreed to take over Ukai's shifts ever since he began coaching Karasuno's male volleyball team.

If anyone comes in at this hour though, they're likely to be a student from Karasuno, but in about five minutes the store's most frequent customer, Etsu, will stop by, and will no doubt be mewling for a meat bun.

You plop down on the seat behind the counter, taking a moment to your self to breathe. You tug at the base of your long ponytail, releasing your unruly hair from the confines of your hair tie. Although you aren't directly related to Ukai, over the years you've inherited parts of his look. One of those being your 'lion's mane' (as your grandmother calls it).

Ukai had adopted you when you were ten, but the six years you've known each other feel like sixteen. You don't remember much about your biological family, and for privacy reasons Ukai doesn't know any more than you do.

You have no harsh feelings towards them--no contempt or ill-wishes for leaving their own daughter. Of course, there are days when you wondered where they are, and what life might be like if they kept you.

Perhaps it is for the best, you always came to. Maybe it is meant to be this way, because at least the life you are living now with just your dad and grandparents is good. It's good—

You hear a dull chip as the lead snaps. It flies off to the side, leaving a small pencil marking etched into your paper. It's minor, but still an annoyance when deep in thought or concentration. Still, it's nothing that can't fixed with two pumps at the end of the pencil. You start over again, scribbling out the final numbers when familiar happy mewl grabs your attention. Before you can even look over, your cheeks lift into a smile.

"Hi, Etsu!"

It's a reaction that happens as soon as the sound reaches your ears. You set your pencil on your paper, math equations and theories slipping from your mind.

Etsu hops onto the counter, his blazing orange fur shimmering in the sunlight. Despite him being a stray, his fur is the softest thing on the planet. You hope he is a stray, because that's how you connected to him in the first place. Sometimes you wonder if he's had those long, quiet nights alone.

"You ready for a meat bun?" You say, sliding a hand back from his head to mid back. He anticipates your touch, always tilting his head up before you caress him again. The mewl he gives, so meek and mild, is what you understand to be a 'yes'.

And so you go over to the pork bun warmer and carefully pluck a bun from the middle shelf, trying your hardest not to touch the metal racks in between. There's still a little splotch of red on your hand from the last time you burned yourself.

The doughy flesh of the bun is warm under your fingertips, and droops slightly, heavy with pork. Steam escapes from every pore, and then, as you slice the bun open, it billows out.

The soft sounds of Estu enjoying his meal brings you a gratification that only comes on—again—during peaceful moments like these.

But as you watch him, you notice your dad's tall, black water bottle and cellphone sitting next to the rotary.

I should probably go and give it to him, you think, watching the bottle now instead of Etsu.

It's about four minutes walking distance from the store.

It wouldn't hurt.

"Nana! Dad left his water here. I'll be right back!"

You wait until you hear the warm, candied voice of your grandmother to leave the store. For a moment, a part of you misses the cool air conditioning.

****

As you enter the breezeway leading to the gym, you realize that you've never been here after school. There's a different vibe, you immediately notice; one that has your steps slowing.

You have never seen the boys your dad coaches. It's not like he forbade you from going to games; and it's not like didn't have any interest in the sport. It's just that you...never.. saw them practice.

You can hear the shoes squeaking and the ball slamming against the waxed floor. It's starts to sound like a horror movie soundtrack, in a weird way.

You peep your head in, carefully clutching the metal door frame.

Five boys, the ones your dad mentioned about earlier, are the first things to catch your eye. One of them, with hair as orange and fiery as Etsu's, is mid-air.

You spot your dad fifteen feet away to the left, arms crossed over one another, head tilted down and eyes wound up--his Focus Face, as you liked to call it. He's deep in his concentration, watching every move of the players on the court. You don't want to interrupt him, so you wait till one of the sides makes a point.

That point comes no sooner after you decide, and after it does, the boisterous cheers of the side closest to you fill the room. You take one step in, more confident, then another, till you're past the metal threshold.

"Dad?"

The man in question turns on instinct. He knows that voice. For fifteen years he's heard the sound of that word, the specific pitch and inflection. So he turns, void of any hesitation or forethought, only wondering why you're here a good few seconds after he sees your face.

Everyone else turns too. The word is so foreign in that environment it feels like slime against skin. The cheers stop. Even the ball stops rolling, and all eyes are on you.

"(Y/n)? What are you--" your father begins, still wide-eyed and surprised. They stay like that for only that moment, however, before returning to their sharp gaze. He turns to the boys, and says, "Excuse me for a second."

You meet him halfway as he walks towards you, neverminding the boys' stares. Haven't they ever seen a girl before? Wasn't that a girl standing right beside your dad?

"You forgot your water bottle," you half-whisper. The stares are getting to you, and you start to feel like you're being cooked alive. "I thought you might need it."

Behind him, a soft murmur lays low in the air. You're hyper-aware of it. What are they saying?

"Thanks, sugarplum." Your dad smiles, something that you know others rarely see, and takes the bottle.

You follow the same path back towards the doors, every now and then peaking glances back at the curious boys. They look kinda goofy, you think, just standing there like they had just witnessed a miracle, like the Lord Jesus Christ himself had come down from the heavens.

But as you turn the corner, a wall that wasn't there before blocks your path. It takes two seconds to register this, but in that first second, you're already colliding into it.

You stumble back, and so does the wall, giving you enough space to look up and see two eyes staring down at you. They're brown and wide with fear, as if had just broken an ancient artifact and was about to be executed.

A squeaky sorry tumbles from your lips at the same time he apologizes.

"Are you okay?" The wall--boy...man?--says. You're still in a daze, but lucid enough to give him a reassuring smile. You've seen him around before. You've never talked to him, but always feel bad that others perceived him as villainous or criminal. Deep down you he know has a kind soul... and a cute face.

"I'm fine! Don't worry about it."

"(Y/n)! You alright?" Your dad calls out from where he is, leaning over to see who you bumped into.

"Yeah! Everything's good!" You pip.

The wall in front of you shifts to the side, clearing the way for you to exit.

You walk with your head down all the way back home, afraid that anyone and everyone could see how red your face was.

God, that was embarrassing.

****

"Coach, was that your daughter?!" Tanaka says, almost teasingly. He's the first to break the silence, and has an apparent death wish.

Soft eyes go razor sharp again. No way was he going to let any one of those hormonal teenage boys near his precious daughter.

"Get back to work, Tanaka!" Ukai barks. All the color drains from Asahi's face, who is still standing by the doors.

"Wait, you mean... I just ran into your daughter?"

"It's okay, Asahi, don't worry about it."

"But...but..."

"Does she go to Karasuno?" Hinata asks over Asahi's blubbering, his curiosity getting the best of him.

"Yes, but don't you dare even think about--

"Is she a first year?"

"SHE'S A SECOND YEAR, FIRST YEAR, NOW GO GET READY FOR PRACTICE."

"Y-yes sir!"