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erroramended-blog · 1 year

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Sketch dump extravaganza!

So, the end is near. The end of the owl house that is. I’m excited, and nervous, and happy and sad, and all sorts of other feelings all at once. This show really meant a lot to me, and this is the first time I’ve ever been THIS involved in making stuff for a fandom. It really helped me grow in both my art and my writing, so as a sort of sent off, I put together this! It’s a look back on my Owl house journey in the form of sketches I never posted, process pics, and unfinished works, along with some creator commentary!

Starting it off with a ton of Hunter! Hes been my most drawn victim subject, and one of my top faves. Above is a number of sketches I never finished and a few alternate goof arounds. Sometimes when I feel stuck trying to capture an expression I draw the most basic version of what I wanna get across, both for my amusement and to get out of the funk. More to see below the cut.

This next one was started during the hiatus after Yesterdays Lie and never finished. It proved a bit too challenging at the time.

That background was waaay above my skill level at the time, so this is as far as I got. You’ll notice, Willow is the only fully drawn character. I just really liked how she was coming out.

I already wanted Hunter to be part of the friend gang before he’d even met Willow and Gus, and I wanted them all to have a fun human realm adventure hiking and having a picnic. Here are some sketch highlights.

Hunter found a good walking stick, and then Flapjack found one too. Ghost in a cat backpack, Gus with a dandelion.

Next up is an early imagining of what Belos’s final form might look like.

With a scared Hunter for scale. It was also related to my long running fanfic (good days bad days and all the days in between) written during that same hiatus along with a few other arts.

Hunter was not the only character I liked to make suffer. Here are a few Raine sketches related to that fic (on the right) and a few unfinished pieces from after we met Terra (On the left)

Next up, in a continuation of the Raine suffering. (And my terrible goofy looking thumbnail sketch on the upper left.)

Sketches from my happy then sad Raine and Eda fanart, featuring dead (or mostly dead) Raine. Fun fact, both the content, and style used here were inspired by the short animated film Fuelled, in which a cat wife seeks revenge for the murder of her cat husband. (Ok, it was actually inspired by a Fuelled fan AMV set to Mitski’s Because Dreaming Costs Money, My Dear, but still, beautiful film, go check it out.) For a change of pace, here’s something cute.

Big happy family with young bats, and baby Hunter. This was going to be for an unfinished fic I started in which the bats are already Raine’s adopted kids, and, unable to let baby Hunter suffer, Raine kidnaps him, and goes to Eda for help. Happy family shenanigans ensue. Here’s a chunk of that fic. (and we’re back to suffering for both Raine and Hunter, so be warned) -- “Eda, I-I am so sorry to show up like this, but—” Raine swallowed hard, and looked over their shoulder into the distance. Fear in their eyes, like something was going to pop out of the woods and get them. “I did something...and I am in so much trouble and...and I didn’t know who else to turn to.” The kids behind them looked up at her with a mix of fear and hope. One of the younger ones clung to Raine’s pant leg, looking especially weary. “You owe me an explanation.” She said, stepping aside. “But it can wait. Get in here.” “Thank you,” They said, sounding beyond relieved, and absolutely exhausted. The kids followed them inside, and Eda paused in the doorway, looked out into the night, unsure what she was expecting to see. Nothing was out there. “Hey, Hooty.” Eda said quietly. The house demon sleepily gave a hoot of acknowledgment “Keep an eye out. Let me know if you see anything.” With that she shut the door, and turned to face the...complicated situation she was suddenly faced with. Raine had set the youngest child down on her couch. There was a wad of bloody gauze secured to the kids ear. “Do you have any healing supplies?” Raine asked, firmly focused on the injured ear. “Anything for pain?”

“Yeah.. uh, I’ll grab um.” she said, moving to fetch the kit. The whole situation was bizarre and confusing, but getting everyone taken care of had to be the first priority.

One of the kids followed her.

“Do you have any food?” The little pony-tailed kid asked. Truth be told, no, she didn’t. Not much anyway. She really needed to keep more around, especially now that she had— oh, she should mention that. It’s a good thing he was a pretty heavy sleeper.

“Kitchens that way” She said, pointing “Don’t burn the place down. Help yourself to what you find. What are you, five?”

“I’m ten” The kid said “Hunter is five. I’m not five, I’m not a baby.”

“Good for you.” She said, digging through the half depleted healer's kit. “Don’t touch the bottle with the apple on it.”

“Katya,” Raine called, worry in their voice “Where did you go? Come back here please.”

“Sorry!” said the kid whose name was apparently Katya. The kid ran back to the living room, and Eda followed. She handed over the kit.

“It’s not much,” She said. “I can see about whipping up a pain potion. I gotta look up the doses for a kid — how old is...”

“I told you, Hunter is five!” Katya said, exasperated.

“Katya, please.” Raine said, sounding more tired than frustrated. “Yes, he’s five.”

Next up, an unfinished crossover between Owl House and Hades Town

Set to the song Doubt Comes In, with Raine as Orpheus and Eda as Eurydice. I never finished it because I didn’t like how it was turning out (and it was way to much work, lol.) But I still love the crossover. Some highlights below.

Next, sketches from things that did end up finished.

And a few alternate poses and expressions from finished stuff.

Here’s King, and an itty-bitty Eda.

And some post Kings Tide sketching.

Another happy family type sketch from waaay back

and lastly, me!

Its me as an owl house character, featuring a spider beast form, and non-binary cape! So there you have it!

In it’s final secret title message to us, Owl House thanked us for watching, so I want to thank it back for all the entertainment and inspiration it gave me (And thanks to those who have followed, liked, reblogged and commented on my art and writing along the way.). I’m gonna miss it, and I wish it hadn’t been cut short, but I’m looking forward to its last episode. Goodbye Owl House.

#THE OWL HOUSE #the owl house luz #toh hunter #toh eda #toh raine #TOH Lilith #TOH King #toh gus #toh willow

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raqueliie · 2 years

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Owl house sketches I did on a plane!!

#have only drawn willow like once so this was really fun!!!#have I mentioned how in love I am with everyone’s new outfits #was gonna draw hunter but then I remembered his funky slicked back hair and I started to cry #the owl house #toh #toh fanart #the owl house fanart #the owl house spoilers #toh spoilers #the owl house season 2 #toh season 2 #willow park #willow park fanart #luz noceda #luz noceda fanart #my art #stupid sketches

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theveryworstthing · 4 years

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So over on patreon Trevor asked for my take on the Addams Family and I grew up LOVING the Addams family movies so here we are. Instead of doing a straight up style interpretation, I decided to do a full on design challenge, using the characters as bases to make a black southern gothic Addams au. I actually drew the kids first, using the character bases of Wednesday and Pugsley to create some delightful kiddos I'm calling Sunday and Blanche. I of course then redesigned Gomez and Morticia into Carlisle and Mortesha.

The Addams have a very specific high aristocratic goth aesthetic (they've got a butler and nobody really works among other things) so in this re-imagining I wanted to go with vibes that run a little more middle class/upper middle class. I thought it would be interesting to think about what would be considered weird and off-putting in an entirely different culture, and how being a big ol' goth is way less controversial than it used to be.

I tried to keep this short (HAHAHAHAHAHA) so I didn't spin off into an essay about villain coded families, black people in the horror genre, and normalcy as it pertains to social survival, but just...bits of that are in these designs and lore. Keep that in mind.

Also I made the kids twins because they've flip flopped in age so much in different media and also twins run in my family (i'm the daughter of one). And let's face it, I'm pulling a lot of their southern gothic traits from living as a southern goth so *shrug*.

10 thousand pounds of lore incoming loooooooooool.

The Parents

From the moment he saw her he knew that there was a 50/50 chance of him either never making it out of that swamp alive or marrying the figure that was creeping out from under the distant willow tree in a black cocktail dress. The third time she found him trussed up in one of her traps, he complimented her rope work and asked if she'd like to go out sometime after his head wound stopped bleeding.

Or while it was still bleeding.

If she was into that.

Some kids and a mysteriously burnt down Piggly Wiggly later, their love is still as strong and inescapable as a bear trap in a sink hole.

Carlisle Guillermo (now Addams through marriage but I wanted to give him two first names for a name since Gomez has two last names) makes a vaguely described living practicing ‘law’ around town. A loophole king, people come to him from miles around with contracts signed in blood, fights over chunks of hair buried in their rivals’ yard, dehydrated primate hands, memories that seemed like dreams until the evidence of their happenings became too real, and other regular Legal Items asking for counsel which he is all too happy to give. For a price. Sometimes that price is a homemade pie and sometimes it’s a million dollars, depends on who you are. Whatever you’re asked to pay it’s worth that price, and if you try to scam him out of work or he just plain doesn’t like you? Well. He knows how to twist a contract better than anything at the crossroads.

And he always gets his due.

He doesn’t just serve the local (living)humans though, there are many things that need proper legal representation in this day and age. You wouldn’t believe how many city councils try to build on sacred burial grounds even after he lets them know that his ghostly clients are totally gonna haunt the FUCK out of the ensuing shitty condos and curse their families for all eternity. At least 50% of his energy goes towards dealing with real estate bullshit.

Carl is an excitable and good natured(?) man who loves his family, cigars, dancing, and his many knife-based hobbies. People find him very charming once they get past the feeling that they’re talking to a sultry gator badly disguising itself as a human. I didn’t put a ton of deep thought into designing him, mostly I wanted to make a middle aged dude who looked like he would have been voted ‘most likely to smooch the literal devil’ in high school. Tbh he probably has, but no demonic ex’s can compare to his lovely wife~

Mortesha Addams(her name was already perfect so I just tweaked it)is a woman of many talents. A self proclaimed homemaker, she prides herself on a greenhouse full of Concerning Foliage, a beautiful wasp apiary, and a coop full of what are probably chickens that she keeps for what are probably eggs. She’s also an avid creator of the outsider art that can be seen around the estate. She has taken on the family business of selling her homemade goods in a little stall by the road just outside the swamp with her mom, and makes pretty good money doing so. A surprising amount of poison gets bought in quaint southern towns.

Speaking of poison, people who come out to the edge of the swamp to buy it are usually carrying a lot of secrets around, and Mortesha knows most of them. It’s not like she pries the truth out of people, it just so happens that many nervous hellos eventually turn into the tragic backstory power hour if she’s alone with a client for long enough. She supposes that’s just how people are. Despite the fact that the Addams are very active in the community (whether the community likes it or not) she especially, as a direct descendant of the first Addams matriarch, is seen as…Well not an outsider because the community feels A Certain Way about outsiders and despite it all the Addams are their people, but maybe something like an exception. They feel like whatever weirdness they’re hiding can’t be weirder than any given Addams, so they get a little loose with their words.

This is amusing to her, since Addams’ don’t naturally keep the kind dramatic secrets that their surface level prim and proper neighbors do. It’s much more fun to openly talk about those things.

Do they have a sadly decrepit yet terrifying grandma up in the attic? Yeah, like three. They got a tv, all the creepy porcelain dolls they could want, and they’re close to family. Where do you keep your gram-grams?

Any bodies buried on the property? Yeah some, but most are thrown to the gators.

Any creeping through the balmy summer night with ill intentions? Yeah dude, everyone loves a nice family stroll.

What about dangerous forbidden love? If an adult Addams isn’t incorporeal then they’re either queer or in a torrid romance with some person/thing mysteriously drawn to that awful swamp. Sometimes both at the same time. Most times actually.

Mortesha would know.

The current head of the Addams family is just as outgoing as her husband but a lot quieter and harder to read. She never really seems to get mad about much and always has a genteel smile for everyone whether they deserve it or not. A seven foot tall human shaped “Oh, bless your heart”. A perfectly composed Lady even when she’s, oh I dunno, burning down a Piggly Wiggly. You know. A regular southern mom. Chat her up at the hair salon for 50% off a jar of wasp honey with your next purchase of a mysterious but foreboding packet of herbs.

Designing her was pretty easy because I just drew a lankier Grace Jones and called it a day. I had some problems with her outfit simply because if we were going HARD southern gothic then she’d probably be wearing a white/cream dress with a fuller skirt but I thought keeping the silhouette and the black was more important. She’s supposed to be an anti southern gothic southern gothic character anyway. A woman who looks like she has a million secrets who is actually the most open person you could meet. For better or worse. The red hair came from a coloring error that I really ended up liking (my mom had red hair her whole childhood that only darkened up in high school so I can buy that an Addams can be naturally fire engine red) and the veil was to get more of that classic Morticia silhouette in there.

The Children

Sunday and Blanche are the twin children of Carlisle and Mortesha Addams. Some say the Addams clan got their cursed homestead when a wealthy local businessman made a deal with the devil and lost, leaving his grand mansion to his least favorite maid and cutting his losses once he realized that the swamp would do everything it could to drag the house into the water and take what was owed with its horrible curse. Others say that the family has just always squatted there and no one really cares because man, fuck that particular swamp. Have you been in there? Absolute horror show.

Anyway.

Blanche is the more outgoing sibling and quite the engineer/mad scientist in the making. He started going grey at 2 weeks old but considering he was also rocking some extra fingers, toes, and a tiny tail (he takes after his dad), his parents just put it on the 'not life threatening' pile and decided not to worry about it. He's the kind of smart that teachers find utterly infuriating, less a dog eagerly learning and obeying commands and more a hyena who keeps teaching itself how to pick locks. He has a few friends in his school's robotics club (which they honestly allowed him to make so the school could contain his... creations) but mostly hangs out with his sister exploring the swamp. They find all sorts of neat things in there! wedding rings, suspiciously lumpy garbage bags, cloaked cultists who can't read private property signs, it's an adventure every day!

Blanche is all about experimentation with his creations, his look, and his tether to this mortal coil. Is lipstick a cool thing to try? Let's find out. Can he get out of a strait jacket fast enough after being pushed into the depths of the swamp by his sister? let's find out. He's not dead yet and confused local doctors can attest to the fact that he's rarely attained more than a bad bruise so he's pretty set on continuing to kiss rattlesnakes on their cute little heads and have his sister practice her knife throwing at him until that fact changes.

Blanche is very much a country goth. Cowboy boots (customized by his mom), knife, and lighter are daily accessories. He likes to wear the crusty swamp jewelry they find (the rust adds a splash of color!) and despite appearances he does try to keep himself neat. He's just got natural Grunge Colors and a tendency to wear clothes he likes until they fall apart. Pugsley always seemed the most modernly styled to me (which might just be because little boys clothes have been the same for a long time) so I wanted Blanche to be the most purposely fashionable Addams. Everyone else is goth by nature, but he's the only one truly familiar with goth as an alternative fashion.

I got really into designing Blanche because honestly, I find Pugsley to be the most boring member of the family. And he was hard to design! I had to mess with his vibe a lot to get him looking how I wanted. I know he's supposed to evoke an " 'evil' little boy next door who's parents never reign him in", but that's just goth Dennis The Menace. I's 2020. We can at least go queer goth Calvin.

Sunday was much easier to design. Wednesday was my favorite as a child (of course) and I really wanted to keep the spirit of her look while adding things like billowy sleeves (it gets HOT down here), big poofy twists instead of braids, and a nice tie. She's a professional after all, been running the local pet cemetery since she was 6 and the previous groundskeeper met with an unfortunate accident after telling her that tarantulas don't have souls. Her specialty is creating beautiful naturalistic animal funerals similar to those that Maquenda (https://linktr.ee/artofmaquenda) makes, and she takes pride in creating miniature dioramas of her subjects after each burial which she uses as a kind of 3D catalog for future clients.

She really wants to try out her skills on humans one day. Well. Publicly try out her skills. Lotta random bodies float into the swamp. None of them have turned down her requests for diorama models so far. Most seem downright flattered. Plus, she usually figures out which graveyard/crime scene they floated over from and gets her parents to give them a lift back. She'll even help enact terrifying revenge from beyond the grave on whoever put them there if she's not, y'know, busy.

Besides arts, crafts, and pet based funerary arrangements, Sunday is an avid lover of archery (any ranged weapon really), books where little fantasy adventure animals die dramatic deaths, and history. She is That Kid who eagerly raises her hand when asked who Christopher Columbus was and ends up being sent out of class after 15 minutes for making 'a scene'. Her favorite party trick is just picking an item in the room and talking about how it relates to either some obscure historical figure with a buck wild life or a horrible disaster. At least one charity pancake breakfast ended with children in tears after her vivid description of the Great Molasses Flood of 1919.

Social-wise, while Wednesday is the girl that people ask to smile because they think she'd, "look so pretty", Sunday is rarely asked anything at all. People just kind of assume from her quiet nature (in between horrible history facts) that she's angry all the time and that she hates everyone. This is untrue. She hates some people but she's ambivalent to most everyone else and even downright friendly if you bother to talk to her like a person instead of a terrifying cryptid. Like, she IS a terrifying cryptid but she's also a little girl.

That’s about it for now. One day I might do the other family members but for now I’m happy with the four I’ve redesigned. Making an au! Lurch in a family that doesn’t do butlers could be interesting. Over on patreon I put forth that he could just be Motesha’s mute little brother (similar bone structure) but Amy Crook had the nice idea of quote: “ a mysterious "cousin" that "helps around the house" whose origins are both long in the past and faintly unsettling. He's good for lifting heavy things, like that tank of propane you're about to throw into the burning Piggly Wiggly... “ which i now consider canon. Who's kid is he? How old is he? Not important. Anyone willing to commit arson with you is family.

Annnnyway. This challenge was a lot of fun! I love indulging in AU’s.

#long post #the addams family #Character Design #au #design challenge #i am incapable of doing a design challenge like a normal person #oh god i forgot the cut lol

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lancermylove · 3 years

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Prank (HC)

Fandom: MLQC

Pairing: All x gn!Reader

Warning: None

Requested by: Anon

Prompt: Hello, I love your works and I'm so happy you are taking requests! Do you think you can do how the MLQC guys would react to MC pulling a "I wanna break up" prank? Thank you so much!

A/N: Hi! Thank you! ❤️ I had so much fun writing this request~. Hope you like it!

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Victor

You stormed into Victor's office and closed the door behind you a little louder than usual.

The CEO kept his attention on his desktop screen and continued typing. "Sounds like you had a bad day. What happened?"

"I've had enough, Victor. You are always so busy and never have time for me. I want to break up," you mustered up the angriest voice you could and frowned.

He stopped typing as soon as he heard your words and glanced at you for a moment. Victor studied your face with an intense look, taking in your posture and expression.

"Is that the best you can do?" He asked, removing his reading glasses.

"Best I can do? What are you talking about?"

"Your prank is not going to work on me, but I applaud you for your attempt," Victor chuckled and pressed his back against his black leather office chair.

"You're no fun..." Your pout only made him chuckle louder.

Gavin

He returned home after a few days on a mission and found you sitting on the sofa with your arms crossed and a deep frown drawn across your lips.

"Are you alright? Did something happen?" Gavin dropped his bag and immediately hurried to your side.

"No, I am not okay. I can't take it anymore," you hissed, "you disappear for days and sometimes months. Do you have any idea how it makes me feel? I'm done, Gavin."

His eyes widened as his mouth slightly parted. The officer wasn't sure how to respond, but he hoped you didn't mean what he thought you meant.

"I am breaking up with you."

As soon as he heard those words, he felt as though a sword pierced his heart. Though he wanted to tell you he loves you and can't live with you, Gavin thought for a bit. He realized that he was being unfair to you by making you wait for days and months for him.

"I see...," he forced the words out and stood up with his head hanging low, "I hope you can find someone who can make you happy."

Hearing his pained words, you jumped to your feet and threw your arms around him from behind. "Gav, I'm joking! It was a prank."

He didn't move or say a word as you continued to hug him. Even when you called his name, he didn't react.

Realizing that you shouldn't have pulled such a heavy prank, you started apologizing and buried your face in his muscular back. "I am so sorry! I didn't think you would take it so seriously...please don't be upset."

"It...was really a joke?" Gavin asked in a shaky whisper.

"Yes! It was only a joke. I would never leave you, Gav." Your voice was filled with panic as you explained your intentions once again.

The agent freed himself from your grasp and faced you before embracing you firmly. "Don't...joke about break up with me. You...mean the world to me, and I can't bear the thought of living without you."

Gavin rested his face on the top of your head and held you closer. "I know I don't say it enough, but I love you."

Kiro

Kiro hurried backstage to his dressing room after the concert. He couldn't wait to ask you what you thought of his performance, but when he entered, the idol found you standing with your hands on your hips, frowning.

"What's wrong? Why do you look upset?" He asked, closing the door behind him and blinking rapidly.

"Why do I look upset? Oh, I don't know...maybe it has something to do with those fans sticking to you like glue."

Your words stung Kiro as he raised his hands in defense, "Baby, I swear I didn't know about the fan segment. The organizers didn't tell me..."

"That's it, Kiro! I can't stand your fans always getting close to you...I thought I could put up with it, but I can't. We are through!" You threw your arms up and turned your back to him, facing the mirror.

You saw the singer struggling to speak, but in the end, he lowered his head and mumbled, "Sorry...please don't leave me."

Suppressing your chuckle, you continued watching him, but when you saw tears in his eyes, you spun around towards him.

Kiro stepped closer to you and pulled you against his chest. "Please forgive me, (Y/N). I love you and you only...don't break up with me. Please!"

"K-Kiro...are you crying?" You asked in shock but quickly returned his hug, "H-Hey, it was a joke! I am not going to break up with you. Willow and Kiki dared me to prank you and...I am so sorry!"

The blond man released you and stared into your eyes as if searching for confirmation. "So, you are not breaking up with me?"

"No!" You shook your head vigorously and gently wiped his tears away, "I am so sorry...I promise I won't play such a prank on you ever again."

The corners of Kiro's lips drew up as he planted a kiss on your cheek.

Shaw

"Hey there, looking for someone?" Shaw asked as he watched you searching the empty park.

You looked up to find him sitting on a tree branch several feet above the ground. "Yeah, I'm looking for my boyfriend, have you seen him? He was supposed to meet me yesterday, but he canceled last minute."

Shaw chuckled and jumped down, landing perfectly on his feet. "I told you why, didn't I? I had to tend to an emergency."

"Why are you always so secretive?" You sighed, "It's like you don't trust me."

"What can I say, I have trust issues." He chuckled and shrugged his shoulders, "Deal with it."

"Seriously, Shaw? No, I won't deal with it. I've had enough of your secrets and your attitude. We are done!"

Shaw stopped in his tracks and stared at you blankly; there are not many things that can affect Shaw, but hearing those words from you fazed him. Out of nowhere, the once sunny sky turned overcast, and thunder boomed in the distance.

Startled by the loud sound, you darted your eyes towards Shaw. "H-Hey, relax! It was a prank...I thought you would pick up on it."

His piercing eyes remained affixed on your face as he walked closer to you. Your boyfriend grabbed your shoulder and whispered in a low voice, "You aren't the only one who knows how to pull pranks."

Lucien

You stomped into his college office. "We need to talk now!"

Lucien calmly shifted his eyes from the tests on his desk to you. "Seems like we do. What would you like to talk about? Are you perhaps having a poor day?"

"Yes, I am," you rested the flats of your palm on his wooden desk, "Lucien, why is it that you have time for your college, your students, your work, but never for me?"

"My apologies, but I mentioned my busy schedule before we started dating, did I not?" He asked, resting his forearms on his desk and leaning forward.

"Yeah, and I thought I could manage, but I was wrong. I can't put up with this anymore...I'm breaking up with you," you spoke in a serious tone, putting forth your best acting abilities.

"Is that so? Very well, I shall free you from this burden," he smiled, "Then have you found someone else you like?"

"W-What?" You asked, astonished by his calm demeanor and sudden question. "No..."

"Would you like me to assist you in finding a suitable partner? There are rather diligent students in my class, perhaps you would like one of them." Lucien spoke with a hint of teasing in his voice.

"Lucien! Are you seriously thinking about setting me up with one of your students? What's wrong with you?" You huffed and pouted, "I was joking about breaking up..."

"As was I," he chortled.

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➣ MLQC Masterlist ➣ Buy me a Ko-fi or Commission?

#mlqc #mlqc lucien #mlqc victor #mlqc shaw #mlqc kiro #mlqc gavin #kiro x reader #victor x reader #shaw x reader #gavin x reader #lucien x reader

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hamliet · 3 years

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The Girl Who Gets to Have It All: Buffy Summers

So with @linkspooky‘s encouragement, I have binged Buffy the Vampire Slayer and relived my childhood culture. And, it's a 10/10 for me. Not that it doesn't have flaws, but it's genuinely one of the best stories I've seen, with consistent character arcs, powerful themes, and a beautiful message. It's also like... purportedly about vampires and demons and superpowered chosen ones, but it's actually all about humanity.

Buffy was able to be a teenage girl, allowed to like the things teen girls are scorned for (boys, shopping, etc), to be insecure about the thing teenage girls are insecure about (future careers, dating, school, parents), and to be a superhero with its good and its bad aspects. The story wasn’t afraid to call Buffy on her flaws (sometimes she got in a very ‘I am the righteous chosen one’ mode) and to respect and honor each of her desires (to be a good person, to be loved, and more). The story listened to what she wanted and respected her desires, giving her the challenges needed to overcome her flaws while also never teaching her a lesson about wanting bad boys or romance is silly or any manner of dark warnings stories like to throw at teenage girls.

It respected teenage girls--nerdy girls like Willow, jocks like Buffy, lonely wallflowers with trauma like Dawn, and popular/snobby ones like Cordelia, girls gone wild like Faith. It never once reduced them to the stereotypes that were lurking right there: each character was fully rounded, human, flawed and yet with respected interests and goals. This is so rare for a story that I’m still in awe.

The story as a whole follows Buffy from 15 to 21, of her as she grows from teenager to adult. She acts like a teenager and grows to act like a young adult, wrestling with loneliness and duty. The adults, like Giles, Joyce, and Jenny, are not perfect either, but neither are they “bad parents” or “bad mentors” necessarily. Joyce in particular says something terrible to Buffy, but she tries to do better, and it’s rare to see a parent in YA stories shown with such nuance. Basically, it wrote the long-lasting adult characters as human beings, too.

Speaking of growing up, I appreciated how Buffy’s love interests mirrored this. Angel was someone Buffy loved and admired, wanted to be like, but who was always either extreme good or extreme bad, and combined with Buffy’s own tendencies towards black-white thinking, made for a beautiful relationship to help her grow, but didn’t necessarily form a foundation for a long-term partner. Spike, on the other hand... they both saw each other at their worst and were drawn to each other even then, and were inspired to become better because they couldn’t bear to be a person who treated the other person so wrongly. They pushed each other to become the best them they could be, and believed in each other. Also, Spuffy is an enemies to lovers ship for the ages.

(Also, most of the other ships were well-done or at least can be understood. Riley was very obviously wrong for Buffy which paralleled Harmony and Spike in being 100% wrong for each other. Cordelia and Xander were a fun ship even if we all knew it would never last, and Willow and Oz were beautiful and cute. But Xander and Anya and Willow and Tara? OTPs. As were Giles and Jenny, the librarian and the computer teacher.)

That said, it’s not a perfect series. No story is. All of the characters and ships had problematic aspects to them worthy of critique, and the writing is very 90s in a lot of ways. It’s a product of its time, and in many ways it’s good society has progressed beyond some of the tropes/metaphors used in the show. In other way, though, the show was ahead of its time, and in a good way it wasn’t bound by the fear of purity policing with its takes on redemption (many characters would never fly today).

So, in order of seasons ranked from my very favorite to my “still enjoyed it very much” (no season was actually bad, imo), here’s my review. I’ll also review my top 10 villains in the show, because Buffy does villains very well in terms of the redeemable and irredeemable.

Season 7: Yep, the final season was my favorite.

Overall Opinion: Buffy's finale is literally "f*ck them men, our power is ours" and while it seems cheesy it actually works (also, f*ck in both a literal and figurative sense). The series strongly hit all the themes: love as strength, and redemption. Buffy consistently shows love as her strength--*all* kinds of love. Friendship w Willow/Xander, familial with Joyce/Dawn, romantic with Spike/Angel. These types of love are also never pitted against each other as is so often the case in current-day media. It's beautiful. Also, Spike’s confrontation with Wood was so powerful in terms of exploring forgiveness, redemption, and reconciliation: where they overlap and where they don't, and what it means to move forward.

Unpopular Opinion: I have seen a lot didn’t like the inclusion of Potential Slayers, and while I agree they could have been better incorporated/characterized, it was a great way to show Buffy’s final stage of growing up to be ending her chosen one status and projecting/multiplying her powers over the world.

Biggest Critique: Kennedy was female Riley--the anti-Tara to Riley’s anti-Angel (by ‘anti’ I mean opposite in every way). Kennedy was annoying and immature. Her role, like Riley’s, was less about exploring her as a character and more about her just being stamped as “love interest: lesbian.”

Favorite Episodes: Beneath You, Lies My Parents Told Me, Touched, Chosen

Season 6:

Overall Opinion: I said this on Twitter, but I felt like this was Buffy’s The Last Jedi or Empire Strikes Back moment. It is polarizing and dark, deconstructing the tropes it stands on--but by digging to the core of these tropes, it actually makes what’s good about them shine brighter. Everyone’s enemy was the worst versions of themselves. Giles left Buffy, Willow's struggle to relate to the world led to her trying to destroy it, Buffy hurt everyone through her anger, Xander abandoned Anya at the altar, Spike... yeah. It ages well as an integral part of the story, and the Trio were eerily prophetic.

Unpopular Opinion: Dawn is a great character with a good arc. A traumatized teen acting out and struggling to come to terms with loss and identity? She wasn’t whiny; she was realistic.

Biggest Critique: Willow’s addiction coding (I’ll discuss this below) and Seeing Red as an episode. I see the argument for both of its controversial scenes from a narrative perspective: Willow starts the season not grieving Buffy but instead being determined to fix it with magic and needs to learn to grieve, but. Still. Bury your gays is not a good look. For the Spike scene... he conflates sex/passion and violence (”love is blood, children” is something he said way back in season 3), but like Tara’s death, it had more to do with Spike (as Tara’s death did for Willow) than with Buffy’s arc, and as for the actual execution... they really botched that. Did it like... have to go on that long or go that far? No. Also, the framing was good, but inconsistent with the rest of the series (Xander to Buffy in the hyena episode, Faith to Xander and to Riley, etc.)

Favorite Episodes: Once More With Feeling, Smashed, Grave

Season 3 (tied with Season 5):

Overall Opinion: The opening continuity of Buffy meeting Lily/Anne after saving her life in Season 2 was sweet. The Witchhunt episode had really powerful subtext: stories of deaths that aren’t even true are actually demons that possess the town and convince them to turn against their children in the name of protecting the children. It’s a good commentary on, oh, everything in society. Faith’s character arc was fantastic, and her chemistry with Buffy was off the charts (look, I may be Spuffy all the way, but Fuffy has rights). The finale was satisfying in so many ways, seeing the entire graduating class unite to destroy the Mayor and the school with it, symbolizing Buffy et al’s readiness to move on to college. Oz's relationship with Willow was very sweet and meaningful for a first romance for Willow.

Unpopular Opinion: I actually don’t really have one. Maybe that the miracle in Amends was earned? I think you can make a decent case that Season 3 is the best written of the seasons, but can only truly be thematically appreciated to its full potential in the light of subsequent seasons (which finish Faith’s arc and deconstruct Buffy’s).

Biggest Critique: It forgot Buffy killed the hyena guy in Season 1, making her continual insistence that she can’t kill people very ?????

Favorite Episodes: Lovers Walk, Amends, Graduation Day Part 2

Season 5, which ties with Season 3:

Overall Opinion: The entire season is about family and what it means, from Tara’s to Buffy’s to the Scoobies. I loved Glory aka Enoshima Junko as the Big Bad, I loved Dawn’s interesting meta commentary on retconning (like, the fact that she’s retconned in matters), and most of my ships are still alive. Joyce’s relationship with Spike is one of the most heartwarming aspects, and Spike’s arc’s desire is clearly highlighted: he wants to be seen as a person. The episodes after Joyce’s death are the most honest portrayals of grief I’ve ever seen, and absolutely brutal to watch.

Unpopular Opinion: Buffy’s choice at the end seems a deliberate inversion of her choice at the end of Season 2 (sacrifice a loved one to save the world), but it actually isn’t: much like at the end of Season 2 where Buffy skips town because she’s devastated after killing Angel and doesn’t want to sort out being expelled, her mom knowing she’s the slayer, and her own trauma, Buffy’s sacrifice here was as much about her wanting the easy way out of relationships, family, college, etc. as it was about saving Dawn. Buffy’s death is coded as a suicide, which Season 6 emphasizes as well.

Biggest Critique: Like Season 3, I don’t have a lot to critique here. I wish the suicidal coding had been a little more obvious in Season 5 itself, but also I’m not sure it could have been more obvious; it’s pretty apparent if you pay attention. Maybe also that Buffy and Riley’s relationship failing should have been more squarely blamed on Riley, you know, being insecure and cheating.

Favorite Episodes: Family, Fool for Love, Intervention.

Season 2:

Overall Opinion: Heartbreakingly tragic but exciting and revealing at the same time. It asked the viewer interesting questions about redemption and forgiveness and atonement through Angel being honest about his past, and then decided to show us his past now reenacted, challenging us. And still, we saw them save him in a parallel to saving Willow in Season 6 (but Season 2 was tragic because it wasn’t enough, while Season 6 was not). Jenny’s death was agonizing, and the scene were Angel watches Buffy, Willow, and Joyce get the news through the window was powerful. We didn’t have to hear them to get the grief.

Unpopular Opinion: Jenny’s death isn’t a fridging; it works for her arc too when you consider her history. She worked to save the person whose life she was tasked to ruin, and it cost her her own--yet she still succeeded, because Jenny brought joy and wisdom to the show. Kendra’s death, on the other hand... was because they needed the stakes to be high--but we already knew that before she died. So, her death was useless.

Biggest Critique: The subtext was Not It. It was essentially “do not have sex. Your older boyfriend will lose his soul, kill your friends, you’ll lose your family, your school, your home, and have to kill your true love or else hell will literally swallow earth.”

Favorite Episodes: School Hard, Passion, Becoming Part 2.

Season 1:

Overall Opinion: I really liked it; it’s just lower on this list because the others are just better. It’s a great introduction to the series and to its characters, from Giles to Buffy to Willow to Jenny to Cordelia. It has great subtext a lot of the time (for example, Natalie French as She-Mantis is a literal predatory bug who engages in predatory behavior with students). Additionally, it subverts the typical YA trope of two guys and a girl, in which the girl is usually the least interesting character. Buffy and Willow were both fully fledged characters from the beginning with distinct strengths (even before Willow became a witch, as she wasn’t one in season 1 yet), while Xander was the more ordinary of the group.

Unpopular Opinion/Biggest Critique: Xander’s arc showed its first flaws that unfortunately continued throughout the series: his writing was either very good or very indulgent in ways it never was for other characters. (cough, the hyena episode, cough, in which he gets to skirt responsibility--and acknowledges that he is skirting it--for something the show will later hold others to account for). Xander’s just kind of inconsistent, which weakened his character over all. (Which is why both his love interests--Cordelia and then ultimately Anya--were good for him: they did not indulge him.)

Favorite Episode: Witch, Nightmares.

Season 4:

Overall Opinion: it’s still a good season. It’s a good portrayal of college and the growing pains of branching out, the strains of college growth on relationships (romantic and platonic). It shows us the first hints of Spuffy, giving us some serious Jungian symbolism between Spike and Buffy early on, and does well in establishing Xander/Anya and Willow/Tara as beautiful OTPs. Faith and Buffy’s foiling is fantastic. The Halloween episode was very fun as well. However, it suffers because its Big Bad, Adam, is not all that compelling thematically--yet, he could have been. See, the final battle pulls off the Power of Friendship in a really strong way but notably the season does not end there. Instead, it ends on dreams of each character’s worst fears, continuing what we saw in Nightmares in Season 1. Why? Because it shows us that the characters’ wars aren’t against monsters, but monsters of their own making: their flaws. Adam, as a literal Frankenstein, exemplifies this, but it wasn’t capitalized on as well as it could have been.

Unpopular Opinion: Beer Bad isn’t a bad episode, at the very least because Buffy gets to punch Parker. It’s not one of the series’ best, obviously, but it does give Buffy an arc in that she gets her daydream of Parker begging her to come back, but she has overcome that desire and her desire for revenge. If we wanna talk about bad subtext in Season 4, Season 2′s Not It sex subtext continues in the Where the Wild Things Are episode in this season; it’s a powerful callout of abusive purity-culture churches, until the fact that the shame creates a literal curse undermines the progressive message it’s supposed to send. Also, the Thanksgiving episode (Pangs) is a nightmare of white guilt and Oh God Shut Up White People.

Biggest Critique: Riley is awful. Like Kennedy, he had “love interest:normal” stamped on him and that was it. The thing is, he could have worked as an Angel foil, representative of the normal-life aspect of Buffy to Angel’s vampire/supernatural aspect, but the writers never explore this and seemed to even try to back away from that later on. They threw all the romantic cliches at the wall to see what sticks, from klutzy “I dropped my schoolbooks, that’s how we met” to cliché lines that had me rolling my eyes. Do you know how bad a romance has to be to make me dislike romantic tropes?

Favorite Episodes: Fear Itself, Hush, Restless

Villain rankings:

Dark Willow, the only villain to be truly sympathetic. While the addiction coding was insensitive and, while unsurprising for its time, aged extremely poorly. That said, Willow’s turn to the dark side after Tara’s death worked well for her character and the story: it was believable and paid off what had been building since Season 1's “Nightmares” episode (Willow’s inferiority complex).

Glory managed to be genuinely terrifying, and humorous/enjoyable too. Her minions and their numerous nicknames for Glorificus were hilarious, as was her intense vanity. Her merging with Ben--a human being who genuinely wanted to be kind and good--added complexity and tragedy to her role.

The First. A really good take on Satan. The seventh season as well as the First’s first appearance in season 3′s “Amends” had kind of blatant Christian symbolism, and so the First being essentially Satan works. Their disguising themselves as dead loved ones and the subtle manipulation they used to alienate people was really disturbing and well done.

The Mayor, who was a terrible person but a truly good father. He provided an interesting contrast to the normal ‘bad dad’ bad guy character, in that he provided Faith exactly what the other characters refused to: he saw the best in her and offered her parental support, while the heroes didn’t and wound up pushing her away.

The Trio, who were villains ahead of their time: whiny fanboy reddit dudebros, basically. The stakes seemed so much lower than fighting Glory, a literal god, the previous season. But that’s why they worked so well for Season 6′s human themes, and were especially disturbing because we all know people like them. I also appreciated the surprisingly sensitive takes on Jonathan and Andrew, who got to redeem themselves, but Warren did not, and I don’t think he should have either.

Angelus + Drusilla. I’m ranking them below the Trio because Angelus was just sooooo different from Angel that it was difficult for me to feel the same way for him. He was still Angel, so it wasn’t possible to enjoy his villainy, but he also wasn’t nearly as sympathetic as Dark Willow, had no redeeming qualities like the Mayor, and wasn’t as disturbingly realistic as the Trio. However, the emotional stakes were excellently executed with him as the Big Bad, in that you were never quite sure how to feel and it just plain hurt. Also, Drusilla was a favorite recurring character. She was sympathetic and yet batsh*t enough to be enjoyable as a villain at the same time.

The Master, who was just completely camp and really worked as an introductory villain. He was scary enough to believe he was a threat, and was funny enough to introduce the series’ humor as well. He was, like Glory, an enjoyable Big Bad.

The Gentlemen, the one-off villains of Season 4′s Hush who were genuinely terrifying. It’s not as if they got a lot of explanation or any backstory, but they didn’t need it.

Caleb, the misogynist priest. Fitting with the First’s Christian symbolism, Caleb serving as a spokesperson of all bad religious beliefs felt appropriate. He was also a good foil to Warren--being actually supernaturally powered instead of a wannabe--and to Tara’s family in being full-out evil. I despised him.

Snyder. Okay Snyder is not a Big Bad like Adam is, but let’s face it: Adam is lame compared to the other villains. But Snyder as a principal? He was so irritating and yet really well used in the series to critique overly strict, hypocritical teachers. Like, we all know teachers like him. I loved to hate him, and his ending was so satisfying.

#buffy the vampire slayer #btvs #spuffy #buffy summers #dawn summers #spike #angel #cordelia chase #btvs giles #willow rosenberg #tillow #tara maclay #anya jenkins #xanya #xander harris #jenny calendar #kendra young #faith lehane #hamliet reviews

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thebigbadbatswife · 3 years

Text

The Witching Hour - Chapter 1 - All Hallows’ Eve

Summary - When her friends dragged her to Gotham’s old cemetery for some Halloween ghost hunting fun, Y/N really didn’t think her life would end up changing like this.

Chapter Warnings - referenced/implied character death

Word Count - 3.3k

The cell phone on your nightstand buzzed incessantly as your friends continued to spam your messages. They had been doing so for the past hour or so. You were surprised that the damn thing hadn’t vibrated off of the nightstand yet. When it finally stopped, when you finally thought they had given up, you returned your attention to the document you had open on your laptop. Just as you were about to start typing again, your phone resumed its buzzing.

Huffing, you shut your laptop’s lid, placed it on the bed next to you, reached over and grabbed your phone off the nightstand. Over eighty messages both from your friends individually and within the group chat, begging you to come along with them to the old cemetery that sat outside of town. They wanted to go because it was Halloween and that meant it was the best time to go ghost hunting! And they wanted you to go along because of how you were usually drawn to this type of stuff. As well as how this type of stuff was also usually drawn to you.

Come on! For old time’s sake? Plus we’re going to have a much better chance at actually catching something if you come along!

The message was from your friend John, the ringleader of your group. The reason you and your friends had always gotten into trouble at school. Now he was trying to work his magic once again.

Only because I’m a meta with an uncomfortably close relationship with death…

As far as you knew, your powers were genetic instead of being caused by that arc reactor explosion that had given a lot of metas their powers. You were able to look past the “Veil”, as it was called, and see and interact with spirits on the other side. Not that you did so often or even liked to do. It creeped you out and you sometimes saw things that would certainly traumatize most people if they saw them. Not to mention the strain on your body and mind each time you did it.

Why the obsession with the old cemetery now?

It had been years since John had mentioned ghost hunting, let alone the old cemetery. Back during your last year of high school, it had been all John could talk about. He was convinced that it was where the “cool” ghosts would be hanging out. None of you had ever actually gone because your last year had passed surprisingly quickly and before you all knew it, you were all moving to different parts of the country for college. In all that time it had never been mentioned again. Until now.

Ha! She finally replies! I knew you wouldn’t leave us to scream into the void forever!

The next message was from Tom, your oldest friend. Unlike the others, you two had known each other since kindergarten. If anyone was capable of talking you into going, it was probably him.

It’s been years since all of us were in the same place at the same time! Not to mention it’s Halloween and a full moon! I don’t think it could be more perfect!

Well, he wasn’t wrong about that.

You know you want to come! And don’t you dare lie!

He wasn’t wrong about that either. You were a little curious. The cemetery was on the outskirts of Gotham City. According to the internet, the cemetery had members of Gotham’s oldest families buried there. If you were to use your powers there to look past the Veil, there was a chance some of those people could still be hanging around. It would certainly be an unique opportunity to converse with them and, perhaps, attempt to help move on. Or maybe you would find inspiration for your next short ghost story. You certainly had been struggling with inspiration recently so maybe this was exactly what you needed.

Okay! Fine! I’ll come!

You scoffed as you hit ‘send’. Once again, Tom had talked you into joining them. A small part of you was convinced he was a meta with some sort of manipulation power.

That’s great! ‘Cause we’re already outside your house!

John replied, causing you to roll your eyes. Of course they were already outside. Why wouldn’t they be?

You locked your phone, got up from your bed and slipped your phone into your pocket. You grabbed your jacket from your wardrobe and made your way out of your bedroom and down the stairs. You grabbed your keys from the bowl on the table, near the front door.

“Y/N? Where are you going at this hour sweetheart?” your grandma called from the living room.

“I’m going to meet up with some old friends. I’ll be back soon!” you replied. You didn’t tell her where you guys were going since you knew she would most definitely disapprove.

“Stay safe!”

“Will do!”

After your parents’ death, your grandma had not only raised you, but helped you learn how to use your abilities so that, should you choose to, you’d be able to use them. Not that she would approve of you constantly using them. Looking through the Veil could sometimes draw the attention of extremely unwanted creatures that were looking for a route to the physical world. You knew how to defend yourself from them, but that didn’t mean you really wanted to get into that situation to begin with. If you were going to use your abilities tonight, you were going to have to be extremely careful.

The entire drive there, your friends excitedly talked about what they could potentially capture on either video or audio. John was driving, Tom sat in the passenger seat next to him and you were sitting in the back with Rebecca.

A couple of hours later and the car finally pulled up in front of the cemetery. John turned off the engine and you all got out. Since it was pretty much pitch black out here, you all got out your phones and turned on your flashlights.

Tall stone walls covered in moss and vines surrounded the cemetery and an old rusted iron gate stopped the car from going any further. Threaded through the bars of the gate was large rusted chain with an equally rusted padlock. Even if you guys had the key, you seriously doubted it would have worked anyway.

“Are you kidding me?” asked Tom, as he useless pulled against the chain. “This is so unfair!”

“Uh, maybe we could try to scale the walls or something?” Rebecca suggested as she walked over to where the vines seemed at their thickest. She gave them a gentle tug. “Looks like it might hold our weight, if we go up one by one.”

Tom shook his head. “And get covered in spiders? Yeah, no thanks!”

Rebecca frowned as she used her phone’s light to have a closer look at the vines. “I can’t see any spiders.”

“That’s because you’re not looking in the right spots,” he replied as he walked over to her. He shone his own light up at the vines.

While you walked over to them, to get a better look at what Tom was trying to show her, John shook his head and walked back toward the car.

“See all of those tiny turquoise dots shinning back at us?” he asked her as he pointed above where there were a lot of tiny turquoise dots sparkling in the light.

“Yeah, they’re like little drops of moisture right?”

“You would think, but they’re not! Those are the eyes of all those horrid little spiders!”

Rebecca squealed and immediately backed away from the wall. “Tom! Why the fuck would you tell me that! Fuck! There’s probably going to be so many of them inside the actual cemetery! And now I know how to spot them!”

“I don’t think that’s going to be much of an issue considering we can’t get in anyway,” you said as you gestured toward the very locked gate. This whole thing was starting to feel like a massive waste of time.

“Oh! But we can!” John announced as he strode on over to you three with a large pair of bolt cutters in hand. He also had a backpack slung over his shoulder. As he cut the chain, John explained how he had swung by here earlier to see if there was anything that would stop you lot from getting in. When he saw the chain, he had gone to the hardware store, that was located in the worst part of the city, and bought these. “Only place I could find that had bolt cutters big enough for a chain like this!”

“Aren’t we like breaking the law or something right now?” Rebecca asked just as the cutters snipped through the chain and it clanged against the gate.

“Probably,” John replied very nonchalantly. “But we’re pretty much committed at this point now. Besides, look at this place! No one’s been here in years! I seriously doubt we’re going to get caught.”

The iron gate creaked loudly as it was pushed open and you all headed inside. The others walked ahead while you trailed behind. The way they were talking, discussing who was buried here and therefor who they could potentially “contact”, made you feel like you had time-travelled back to high school.

When you all got to the centre of the cemetery, John took the backpack off and opened it. It was filled with all sorts of equipment that was used in modern day ghost hunting. Voice recorders, emf meters, even a couple of high end night vision cameras. Damn, he had really gone all out for this. After the gear had been handed out, John began to give everyone directions as to where they were off to investigate.

Tom and Rebecca were going to be investigating the southwest of the cemetery, which was the newest part, John was headed up to the north, where some mausoleums were shaded by an old willow tree and you:

“And Y/N, you get the oldest part of the cemetery which is toward the east!”

“Right, of course, send the meta to the creepiest part of this place,” you said, playfully rolling your eyes.

“Well, you said it, not me! Good luck and we’ll meet back here in a couple of hours,” John replied. With that, you all split up and went your separate ways.

The cemetery was vastly overgrown. Most of the headstones were buried beneath the long unruly grass, brambles and vines. Every now and then your flashlight would catch a glimpse of the grey stone underneath. You also caught more glimpses of those glowing spider eyes and were doing your best to ignore them. You really hated Tom sometimes.

Thanks to all of the plants, you could barely see the path. The only thing that indicated you were walking on one was every now and then you could feel a stone slab shift underneath your feet.

The further east you walked, the darker and darker the cemetery seemed to get. It also seemed to get creepier and creepier, which was strange to you because you never really found cemeteries creepy. Instead you had always found them peaceful. A lot of people found you weird for that. There was also the feeling that something was watching you. The uneasiness that came along with that feeling was enough to prevent you from using either your recorder or your abilities. If there really was something watching you, you got the feeling that the last thing you wanted to do was attract its attention. After all, who knew what truly lurked here? Especially on the other side.

You eventually reached a group of mausoleums. Much like the rest of the cemetery, they were covered in bramble, vines and other plantlife. They were tall and the parts of them you could see, you could tell were certainly made of far more expensive stone than the rest of the place. This wasn’t just the oldest part, this was also the richest part.

You approached a few of the mausoleums and managed to clear away some of the plants covering the name plates. The majority of the names had been erased due to the elements, but not all of them. The names that were still readable were also names you recognised. Kane, Elliot, Crowne. Three of the First Families of Gotham.

You were about to approach another when you saw something large and black move, out of the corner of your eye. You spun around and shone your flashlight in the direction of the shadow, but there was nothing there.

“Hello?” you called out, which was probably a terrible idea, but it was the only thing you could think of doing. “Who’s there?” You waited for a reply, but no reply came.

Was your nerves making you see things? It couldn’t be a spirit; you weren’t using your powers. Unless… Throughout your life you had heard of non metas who had “seen” things in their peripheral vision. Sometimes they were spirits that had briefly broken through the Veil, other times it really was just people imagining things. Until now you had never experienced it before and you hated how impossible it was to tell which one it was.

Turning on your phone’s screen, you looked at the time. You still had an hour before you had to head back to meet back up with the others. Turning the screen off again, you looked back in the direction you had seen the shadow move toward. Did you follow? It sounded like an awful idea, but the only other thing you could do was head back early and then wait around for everyone else, and that sounded incredibly boring.

‘ Okay, guess I’m doing this then,’ you thought as you began to head down the path, in the direction the shadow had gone.

You had previously thought that there was no way this cemetery could be anymore overgrown than it already was. This new part you were now walking through proved you wrong. Extremely wrong.

Branches hanging low off of trees and thorns from the brambles tugged at your clothing as you passed them. You had to keep an extra careful eye out on where you were stepping so that you didn’t trip over and injure yourself. There were more mausoleums, but you could barely make their shapes out through all of the greenery.

As you walked, that feeling that something was watching you increased tenfold and you found yourself constantly glancing back. Each time you looked you were met with the same result. There was nothing there.

‘ It’s just my overactive imagination ,’ you told yourself, but that did nothing to soothe your growing fear. What if the thing you had seen had been an actual person? And not a good person at that. This was Gotham after all and for some reason Halloween was when most, if not all, the psychopaths suddenly came out to play. Were you about to become another notch in some serial killer’s knife hilt? Oh, you really hoped not. That was not how you wanted to go.

Before your mind could lead you down a dark path of all the vivid ways you could be brutally murdered right now, the path came to an end. At the end of it sat a lone mausoleum. This one didn’t look nearly as old as the others nor was it as covered in plants like the rest. As you walked over to it you saw one of the large iron doors had fallen off its hinges and now laid on the ground.

Cautiously, you approached the entrance. When you were close enough, you shone your light on the name plate. The name ‘Wayne’ was engraved on to it. You got a feeling that that was somehow important, but you really didn’t know why. Nor why you were so drawn to it. Almost as if you were now on autopilot, you stepped inside the mausoleum.

The first two names you saw were Martha and Thomas Wayne. Even years after their deaths, you knew the names well. Before their untimely deaths they had been trying to use their fortune to help the city and its more vulnerable citizens.

The next name you saw, you didn’t recognise. Jason Peter Todd. You were shocked when you saw his death date. “Fuck, you were barely sixteen years old,” you whispered. That was... that was not fair at all.

The last name was Bruce Wayne. It stood out to you a lot more than the others had. Almost as if it was…. Glowing? What? That made no sense. Okay, you were definitely just seeing things now. To prove that to yourself, you turned your flashlight off. The name continued to glow, in fact now it was a hell of a lot brighter.

“What the fuck?”

You peered closer to see if there was any small lights or something similar causing it to glow, but there wasn’t anything. The name was actually glowing! Freaked out, you took a picture of it (without the flash of course), and sent it to Tom. A few agonising minutes passed before he finally replied.

Why are you sending me a completely black photo?

What? You checked the picture you had sent and, yeah, the name was definitely visible.

Can’t you see the glowing name?

If Tom couldn’t see it, then what did that mean?

What are you on about? There’s nothing there. Are you okay?

Was this somehow related to your powers? Is that why Tom wasn’t able to see it? If that was the case, and with each passing second it seemed to be, then he or the others couldn’t help.

Yeah, I’m fine. Nevermind.

Sighing, you checked the time before you shut off you phone and slipped it into your pocket. Thirty minutes before you had to head back. You were on your own. If this was related to your powers then what exactly did you do with it? Your grandma had never mentioned anything like this before, so you had no clue. You still felt uneasy and this new discovery had done nothing to help so you really didn’t want to peer through the Veil, unless it was absolutely necessary.

Would anything happen if you reached out and touched it? You sometimes got flashes of memories or feelings when you touched some items. Maybe this could be the same? You supposed the only way to find out would be to touch the stone. Cautiously you reached out and pressed the palm of your hand against the cold stone.

Images flashed through your mind. Movie tickets, a pearl necklace, a gun. There was the sound of the gun firing, a child’s blood chilling scream and the loud wailing of police sirens. Then it was over and you were brought back to reality, with far more questions than you had previously started with.

Before you were able to question or make sense of what you had seen, your phone vibrated. Taking it out, you saw a text from John, as well as several others.

Are you nearly here?

We were supposed to meet up fifteen minutes ago. Where are you?

Did your phone die?

It did, didn’t it. Unless you’re currently doing one of your meta things?

So what had simply been mere seconds for you in reality had been forty five minutes for everyone else. Which wasn’t all that unusual for you, but could certainly make people that didn’t deal with it daily worry. With that in mind, you fingers flew across your keyboard as you typed out your reply.

Yeah, meta thing, sorry. I’m on my way back now.

You turned your flashlight back on and walked back to the entrance. Before leaving, you looked back to where the glowing of Bruce Wayne’s name was now slowly fading away. Whoever he had been, he was asking for your help. You were sure of it and that’s exactly what you were going to do.

#batman x reader #bruce wayne x reader #batman #bruce wayne #batman x fem!reader #bruce wayne x fem!reader #metahuman!reader #the witching hour #my writing

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ex-vengeancedemon · 3 years

Text

Hey Jealousy

One shot btvs fanfic inspired by this post by @trulyanenchantedrose

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

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

Read below or on ao3

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hi," Angel replied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Are you a gentleman?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-----

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

#btvs #btvs fanfiction #buffy the vampire slayer fanfiction #buffy the vampire slayer #spuffy fanfic #spuffy #spike x buffy #i wrote this in a few hours so apologies if its rough #hey jealousy #btvs one shot #listen. im not great at writing any kind of romance. ive got the romantic abilities and inclinations of faith so like yeah. but i tried

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slytherinsnekxvii · 3 years

Text

hi, remember that murder snily au i'm always talking abt but never have anything to show for? yeah, i've scrapped it like six times now and i finally have a version of it i'm marginally satisfied with. so, here you go, this is the first part of maybe three or four, i think? have fun:

anger

/ˈaŋɡə/

noun

noun: anger; plural noun: angers

1. Normal anger does not split open one's ribcage and wind itself around their heart. Normal anger does not coat itself in venom and sit behind one's teeth and hide under their tongue and lie patiently in wait. Normal anger is not cold and slow and remorseless. Lily thinks that what she calls anger is normal. Lily does not realise that she is extraordinary.

Lily's brand of anger is decidedly... different. What, exactly, makes it so different isn't exactly obvious to her, but she knows that it's not like anyone else's. At least, not as far as she's aware. Hers is a cold sort of anger, an all-encompassing thing that bites and burns and hurts. It's patient, too, winding in and around her ribcage and clawing its way upwards to settle behind her teeth, waiting for a reason to show itself. It's protective, aiming to eliminate a threat before it has a chance to do further damage.

She's... aware of her anger. Not very much so, but it's seen the light of day often enough to be familiar to her. She doesn't know it, though, hasn't made herself properly acquainted with the more... unfortunate spectrum of her emotions, and that is what makes it truly dangerous.

When she feels something scratching at her insides and festering beneath a vindictive sort of justice at seeing Black and Potter and Lupin and Pettigrew suffer the displeasure of the Slytherins, she thinks it's anger. She finds herself in a dusty, unused classroom in the dungeons, helping to refine a brutal spell designed to rend the flesh of anyone unlucky enough to be on the wrong end of it and she thinks it's anger that curls around her and whispers into her ear, "Make sure it hurts."

It isn't. She calls it anger, claims it a necessity, insists that she's protecting her best friend, but she doesn't realise she's mistaken.

The story of the "Prank" gets out—doctored, of course, to keep Black out of Azkaban, and Lupin away from execution—and Lily titters into the back of her hand when she hears it told in bits and pieces throughout the corridors.

"Did you hear?"

"Who would've thought—"

"—bloody idiots went into the Forest! At night! What kind of—"

"—ll five of them, yeah. Can't figure out for the life of me how they managed to get Snape to go—"

"—must've dragged 'im kicking an' screamin', I'm telling y—"

"—Gryffindors, my left tit! Damn cowards just ran off and left Lupin and Snape to deal with—"

"—no clue what happened, but have you seen the scars?"

"—out of the Hospital Wing, already? How—"

"—down fifty points! All because that lot wanted to play jokes aga—"

She smiles, a tiny, smug thing that she doesn't notice, and moves on. The Slytherins are properly riled up now, Rosier and Mulciber and Wilkes and Avery hovering around her and Severus with expressions she can't describe as anything but sadistic. At some point, she realises that their presence makes her feel much less uncomfortable than it did a week ago. She doesn't dwell on it, ignoring the small part of her that worries and shivers in favour of leaning over Severus's shoulder to read about the sort of magic that appears in nightmares.

She grips her wand, idly twirling the twelve-and-a-half inches of willow and dragon heartstring as she skims over detailings of ancient, arcane magic. It's always about blood, she thinks, staring a diagram of a pricked finger dripping red into a cauldron. Potion for Transferring Magic from One Wizard to Another, the heading proclaims. She shakes her head, accidentally knocking into Severus's in the process. "Ow."

He winces a little, and then tells her, "I'm turning the page."

She hums, eyes glued to a book she wouldn't dare look at not even a week ago, and says, "Okay."

It's fascinating, Lily has to admit. Gruesome in some cases and horrific in others, yes, but there's something... mesmerising about it, something hideously captivating in the way that the diagrams seem to eagerly demonstrate their attached spells. On the page, a young wizard is neatly flayed alive, the entire process precise. Her stomach rolls, but Lily can't seem to tear her gaze away for even a second. She doesn't think about it.

She doesn't think about a lot of things, actually, staunchly refusing to acknowledge the way she finds herself drawn away from her Housemates and friends, instead choosing to orbit around her best friend and the seemingly endless rotation of Dark Arts tomes he's somehow gotten his hands on.

Mary's sick of her excuses, she knows, responding to every one with a nod and an, "Oh, alright, then," in that tone that lands somewhere in the middle of disappointment, exasperation and concern.

Marlene has given up entirely, the whole of their interactions reduced to simple greetings in the hall and nods when they pass each other between classes.

Dorcas is nice about it, still catching her arm on the way to breakfast, still offering to study with her when they're all together in the Common and she doesn't want anyone to feel left out. It's undeniable, though, that her smile isn't near as warm as it used to be and it's tinged with worry at the corners.

No one makes it a secret of what they think about her recent activities. And as for the company she's keeping? Well, they'd always been particularly vocal about that.

Things must come to a head eventually, and they do, not even ten minutes after Professor Sprout has dismissed them from the classroom on Wednesday afternoon. She hears the whispers first, half of them from students she doesn't even know, has never said a word to.

"—conspiring with snakes—"

"—think it's the first time I've heard of a Gryff going Dark—"

"—ck was right about her, she's got no—"

Something ugly twists in her chest, and she forces her feet to turn and move, one step after the other. She can make it to the Common Room reasonably quickly, she thinks, and then she catches the self-proclaimed Marauders outside the Great Hall. Or rather, they catch her.

"You can do better than a bunch of slimy snakes, Evans," Potter crows, and she stops dead in her tracks. "Why bother with them when you've got a fine piece of Gryffindor right here?"

"Get lost," she says, the words ground flat between grit teeth.

Potter does not get lost. "Come on, Evans," he continues. "You're not acting like a proper Gryffindor. Where's your House loyalty? I can guarantee that chivalry and bravery are much better than whatever they're offering." It sounds... like a taunt, and this is when Lily realises that what she's been feeling isn't anger.

"Chivalry? Bravery? What would you know about any of that? It's not very chivalrous to corner students four-to-one, now, is it?" She hisses her words, each one more scathing than the last, and as she spits them out, every last one dripping venom, she realises that she wants it to hurt. "And it certainly doesn't seem brave to leave behind someone who needs help because you got cold feet! I'm not a proper Gryffindor? No, I think you've got it wrong, James. If you want to see an improper Gryffindor, the whole lot of you can go right ahead and look in a bloody mirror! I will not be talked down to by the likes of spiteful little cowards like you! I'm more Gryffindor than all four of you put together, but if you're what our House is supposed to look like, then I want nothing to do with it!"

Her ears are ringing when she's done, the whole world narrowed down to one singular focal point, the group of boys headed by the one who'd been desperate to get her attention and regrets it now that he has it. She looks at each of them in turn, summoning a contempt she didn't know she possessed until now. "Save your breath," she snaps, when Black's jaw unlocks, and she turns around and walks away.

Something slots into the place at the back of her mind, and she thinks, oh, her fingers itching to wrap themselves around her wand and whisper the words that will turn them inside out, call the blood from their pores and make it sing. Something clicks, when she thinks about she felt just then, and she can tell the difference quite clearly, very easily, between pure, white-hot, blinding rage and what she's been calling anger. She doesn't know what it really is, and she doesn't want to. She doesn't think about it, either, simply pushes the entire realisation to the back of her head and thinks, oh.

It changes... very little. Something inside of her has changed, and she finds herself growing steadily more unbothered by the voice in her that tells her about old, forbidden magicks of the body and the mind and the blood. It's always about blood.

She doesn't bother reading over Severus's shoulder anymore, the two of them scribbling notes as the pages flip on their own once they've both finished reading.

What does change things is when Rosier corners her after Defence one day, a sealed envelope held in his hand.

"What's this?" Lily asks, eyeing the pristine letter suspiciously. She might get along with the Slytherins much better now—especially after the incident with the Marauders that Rosier had found particularly amusing—but she can't say she truly trusts them.

"An invitation," he says, and before she can speak, he continues. "Every rule has its exceptions. We'd thought there was only room for one Mudblood prodigy, but it looks like there's space for two."

"Don't call me that," she bites, and he waves the envelope at her.

"Think about it. As it stands now, men like Potter and Dumbledore are holding too many of the cards. Men who would let people die and then cover it up to save their own hides. Don't you want to see them get what's coming to them?"

"There's no difference between you and them," she says.

"Isn't there? We've never claimed to be good."

She stares at him, silent.

"It's a new age, Evans. Don't you want to change the world?" he asks.

She takes the envelope.

anyways, i hope you enjoyed that! thanks for reading :)

#fic #murder snily au #severus snape #lily evans #harry potter fanfiction #darkfic #i mean not yet but it will be #anyways #that took wayyy too long #it took me so long to get to this point it's not even funny anymore #but i'm glad i did #getting my shit together seems likw a pretty solid birthday present to myself i think #snily #anyways bye for now #also i have the same birthday as draco malfoy and i found that put via tiktok #gotta love it

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bluerosesburnblue · 3 years

Note

Not sure if you've mentioned your thoughts but what do you think of the new pokemon revealed for Legends: Arceus? I'm really excited for the game now because I really enjoy the trailers they've put forth for it!

Oh my god I love the new Pokemon so much. One of my biggest hopes for a Sinnoh remake was that they add in Sinnoh forms of Pokemon that came from generations released after Diamond and Pearl, but unfortunately it seems like they're sticking really strongly to what was established in DPPt with Brilliant Diamond and Shining Pearl. So when they first started revealing all of the new Hisuian forms for Legends: Arceus it was such a relief

I think the best part is that they're giving the new forms to Pokemon that I'd never expect, too. I mean, who would have thought we'd get an evolution for Stantler? That forgotten Normal type from Gen 2. Now here comes Wydeer to give it that Psychic typing its lore always said it deserves and it looks much more majestic and fitting for its snowy environment. Or Basculin, which was only really known for having two forms exclusive to different versions of the games it appears in, getting an evolution that references the real-world behavioral habits of salmon and drawing visual motifs from traditional Japanese art of spirits

The recent reveal of Hisuian Zorua and Zoroark was just incredible, though. I rambled about it in my tags on another post, but the way that they framed the first trailer as something that they dug up in-universe in Sinnoh's Canalave Library was just so brilliant because these types of documentation do exist! Framing it as though this real video that you're interacting with came from their universe helps to make the games feel more real and lived-in, too. I just... I adore when they do stuff like this

youtube

It gets people guessing! It's fun! I saw a lot of people guess Hisuian Zorua beforehand, but I didn't see anyone guess its typing right. And then we get the payoff a few days later after the suspense has been drawn up

youtube

"Professor Oak" comes in with the video restoration, and it was so much fun! I find that the most interesting thing they do with Pokemon's marketing is when they do things like this. They tried it a while ago when Sword and Shield were coming out and they did that 24 hour livestream of the Glimwood Tangle and revealed Galarian Ponyta in it. Unfortunately, that one (even though I love the idea of it) ended up backfiring because very little ended up happening throughout those 24 hours, so people just got bored. This whole Hisuian Zorua/Zoroark reveal feels like they took that concept and really refined it into something amazing

In a way, I'm also reminded of the Meltan reveal from years ago, where they had all of those Meltan spawn in Pokemon GO without it ever officially being revealed beforehand. Once caught, they turned into Dittos. Then they released a trailer where Professor Willow and Professor Oak discuss the phenomenon and reveal Meltan

I adore these kinds of reveals that play with the fourth wall and I think the Zorua one has been their best one yet

#anon asks #liz answers #pokémon #pokemon legends arceus #i think there's a very good chance that i'm gonna use that little zorua when the game comes out #not only is it cute and its lore sad enough that i feel like it needs some love #but normal/ghost seems like a really fun type combination to use #long post

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spuffybot · 4 years

Text

Walk Me to the Graveyard

Summary: Buffy walks through the graveyard alone at night, contemplating the past few months following the fall of Sunnydale. She reflects on her relationship with Spike, her friendships, and her future before receiving a shocking phone call.

Characters: Buffy, Willow, Dawn, Spike (mentions of Giles, Xander, Andrew, Kennedy, Faith, Wood, Angel, and Fred)

Warnings: Some adult language

Word Count: 4515

Author’s notes: If you read this, thank you. I’ve been chipping away at it for the past few weeks and I’m just glad I was able to finish something I started. “Ghostface” is a reference to the Scream movies, which Sarah Michelle Gellar had a cameo in. The high tea spot with the egg shaped bathrooms is Sketch, a place I didn’t get to visit this year due to the pandemic. I hope you all have a safe holiday season and new year. Hopefully I’ll finish the second part of this story in 2021.

Walk Me to the Graveyard (part 1)

Buffy’s joints creaked as she stood up from her crouched position. She’d been staking out this grave (no pun intended) for hours and dawn was slowly approaching. In the last few minutes the air had started to change, and she could hear the telltale rustling of birds in the trees. If this vampire was going to rise, it wouldn’t be tonight.

Stretching her arms up over her head, she rolled out her stiff shoulders, feeling strangely relieved by the lack of action.

Buffy had been coming to this cemetery every couple of nights for weeks, sniffing out even the barest hint of vampire activity. Technically she could have assigned graveyard duty to any of the Potentials, but she craved the silence and the normalcy of the activity.

She chuckled to herself. How far she’d come that she could relish a few hours of graveyard haunting and call it normal. If only her sixteen-year-old self could see her now.

The truth was she was tired. After the fall of Sunnydale, she’d been fueled by an insatiable need to just keep moving. Giles had suggested they hole up in LA and take refuge with Angel Investigations, but Buffy refused. She wanted to get started on rebuilding as soon as possible. They couldn’t afford to waste time in LA, on Angel’s turf, killing time as his sidekicks while thousands of girls woke up with powers they couldn’t explain. So instead the Scoobies had moved to London, taking on the role of de-facto Watchers Council. They’d rounded up the few surviving members of the former Council and had started reaching out to as many activated Potentials as possible.

They recruited the ones they could and provided support (emotional and financial) to the ones they couldn’t. It was rewarding and it kept her mind off things.

Things like telling a man she loved him only to have him choose death over a future with her.

Buffy kicked a crumbling headstone, cursing when she stubbed her toe.

She knew that wasn’t fair. Spike died saving the world. It was a sacrifice she’d made more than once, and she knew how much she resented the people she left behind for not understanding the weight of that choice. She didn’t want to sully the memory of his heroics with her bitterness. She just couldn’t help it. Besides, focusing on missing Spike was easier than accepting she didn’t know how to function now that she wasn’t the “one girl in all the world.” The irony of having an identity crisis over getting the one thing she’d always thought she wanted was not lost on her. She should be grateful that she wasn’t the only Slayer. Grateful that her future was finally hers to shape. Instead she just felt lost.

It didn’t help that everyone around her was adjusting to this new life and mission like they were born to it. Dawn was training to be a Watcher, and frankly, they needed as many as they could get. The Slayer to Watcher ratio had been drastically tipped and it was only a matter of time before things got out of control.

Faith and Wood had stayed behind in America, taking up shop at the Hellmouth in Cleveland. It was weird to think of Faith as the reigning defender of the Hellmouth, but it felt right. With Wood by her side she would stay grounded and on track. He understood the mission better than most.

Giles was in his glory. He’d vetted the surviving Watchers, firing some gleefully and taking others under his wing. Between them they’d established a kind of Watchers Hogwarts, training Watchers by day and guiding Potential Slayers on field missions by night. He was happy, which was something she’d never really seen him be before. Their relationship had taken a hit in the last few years and while she wasn’t ready to forgive him for everything, she didn’t begrudge him his success. Her Watcher had floundered ever since he was fired, unable to find purpose while she and her friends had grown up around him. Seeing as she suddenly found herself in a similar position it was hard not to understand how he’d gone off track. Besides, she’d lost enough people to know she wasn’t going to lose anymore. She’d fix things with Giles, eventually. For now, she’d just settle for on the same continent and on polite speaking terms.

Xander and Andrew led the Potential Identification and Retrieval Taskforce. They came up with the name. Obviously. They spent their days traveling the world, chasing down leads and giving their best “join team save the world” sales pitch to scared and angry girls.

Buffy smiled thinking about them. The last time they’d video chatted, Xander had looked better than she’d seen him in years. He’d lost the chip on his shoulder that he’d been carrying since they graduated high school. For the first time in his life he was the best person for the job, and he knew it. Trustworthiness and warmth radiated from him and his knowledge of tactics and the cost of the fight lent him an authenticity the girls were drawn to. He never bullshitted or misled them, but he did inspire them. Like he’d inspired all of the Scoobies over the years to keep on fighting.

The sun was starting to peak over the horizon, and a misty fog enveloped the graveyard. She knew she was dawdling but she couldn’t bring herself to rush home. The alarms would be ringing any second now, Potentials and Watchers scrambling to the mess hall for breakfast before a day of study and training.

Technically she didn’t have any classes to teach until the afternoon, but Giles liked the staff to be present in the morning. He said it communicated solidarity and responsibility. Personally, she thought Dawn had just made him watch the Harry Potter movies one too many times.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, but she let it go to voicemail. It was either Willow calling to say she had another hit on the Potential alert locator spell or Giles calling to ask where she was.

Either way it could wait.

She just wanted to be in the quiet for a little bit longer.

That’s what she missed the most about Spike. Having someone she could be in the quiet with. He had always seemed to know what she needed, anticipating her every mood and desire.

She’d never met anyone she could just be alone with before him. He never expected anything of her other than to just be. In this chaotic mess of a life she now led she craved his company and his silence. Since she couldn’t have that she came to the cemetery. The dead kept her company in a way the living never could. The occasional scuffle with a vampire didn’t hurt either. The familiar comfort of a stake in her pocket, grave dust on her shoes, her breath quickening for the thrill of the kill, reminding her that even though everything had changed, some things never would.

Her phone buzzed again.

She frowned, wondering why she couldn’t even get a few hours of peace before the sun was fully risen.

Flipping it open she saw two missed calls from a number she didn’t recognize. No voicemail.

It was probably someone trying to sell her something.

Technically her phone was spelled against telemarketers, but magic was fickle. If someone really needed to reach her, they would call the office and leave a message with her secretary.

God. How had she ended up here?

When they’d first arrived in London she’d panicked. Back in California it had seemed so clear. Get to London, find the Watchers, find the Potentials, save the world. Simple.

Except once they arrived there had been bureaucracy and red tape to get through. The surviving Watchers had needed convincing and playing nice with morons wasn’t Buffy’s strong suit. After one particularly eventful meeting that ended with some snide British dude’s head slamming into a wall Giles and Willow had pushed her to take a back seat on the negotiations. Much to everyone’s shock, she listened.

As soon as she stopped leading she felt a huge weight lift off her shoulders. Without meetings and planning sessions to fill her days she’d found herself wandering the streets of London with Dawn, playing tourist.

They were having high tea at this ridiculous spot with baby pink furniture and weird egg-shaped toilets when it hit her. She could walk away. The Hellmouth was gone, and there were more than enough Slayers to pick up the slack. Her friends would be disappointed but eventually they would understand. As she sat there watching Dawn sample pastries, no fear of imminent death getting in the way of her fun, Buffy couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like. This could be their every day.

They could finish out the summer backpacking through Europe then head home to America to finish school and settle down. She was pretty sure she’d heard somewhere that there were hardly any vampires in New Jersey.

She was so wrapped up in the fantasy that she almost missed what Dawn said as they were walking home to their flat.

“Sorry, what with the what now?”

Dawn rolled her eyes. “I said, it’s crazy how there’s this whole world out here and no one was helping keep it safe before.”

“Ummm excuse me, Slayer here, has saved the world, a lot. Even got a nice shiny headstone for my troubles.”

“Obviously but...you were always in Sunnydale. And sure, most of the big bad world endy guys ended up there too but...what about all the other regular level baddies hurting everyday people? I mean, look at them all.”

Dawn stopped and looked around, forcing Buffy to take it all in. The couples strolling along, groups of friends, kids in strollers. The street was flooded with people going about their day. As soon as that sun went down, they’d be joined by all the things that went bump in the night.

“I just think it’s kind of amazing what we’re about to do. For the first time we’ll be able to protect people all over the world. These people will have a chance like they’ve never had before. Like everyone in Sunnydale got because you were around. We can give that to them. I’m just...glad.”

Buffy’s heart warmed even as dreams of running away slipped from her grasp. Dawn was right. This was her calling. She’d find a way to live with it. Normalcy would never be available to her and the sooner she embraced that, the sooner she could start working towards happiness.

At least that’s what Willow was always saying.

Willow who saw a therapist three times a week and a substance abuse counselor twice a week.

After the battle she and Kennedy had parted ways. Their relationship had run its course and Kennedy wasn’t interested in staying on Team Scooby. Instead she took her slaying act on the road, traveling town to town looking for monsters to hunt and people to save. Occasionally she’d run into a Potential and send a heads up their way. She seemed happy. Everyone seemed happy. Buffy just couldn’t seem to find her groove.

Ironically, Willow was the only one to notice how out of sorts Buffy was. Maybe it was all the therapy or maybe it was just that she was more herself than she’d been in a long time, but Willow had become Buffy’s sole confidant these past few months. If she thought about it too much she knew she’d cry. It hadn’t occurred to her how much she’d missed her best friend until she got her back.

At first when Willow tried to reach out, Buffy had been cold and distant. Willow understood, even writing Buffy a letter to explain that she respected her need for distance after the way she had torched their friendship and Buffy’s trust. The letter had melted something in Buffy’s heart. It was the first time Willow had really acknowledged the fact that their sisterhood had been a casualty of Willow’s addiction.

The first time they sat down for coffee together felt like coming home. Willow seemed lighter, more like the girl Buffy had met her sophomore year of high school than the all-powerful Wicca she had come to know lately. She seemed shy, hesitant to take too much from Buffy, a reticence that allowed her to give more than she had intended to when she agreed to meet.

By their third coffee date it was clear that they were going to push through this. When a third turned into a fourth and fifth they decided to just make it a standing girl’s night. Every Tuesday for the rest of their lives.

Last Tuesday they’d finally broached the subject of Spike. Buffy had been dreading this, afraid to pick at the scab only to be met with judgment and condemnation. She wasn’t sure their renewed friendship could handle it. As much as she loved having Will back, Spike was a sensitive spot and she was afraid of how she’d react if Willow said something she didn’t like.

“Buffy, I tried to end the world. What’s a little bumpin of the uglies between former enemies compared to that? I am judgement free Willow of the no judgies zone.”

Willows face scrunched up like it did sometimes when she was trying to find the right words, her nose crinkling and her eyes rolling skyward.

“I just want you to be ok. And if that means loads of tasty mochas and squishy details about Spike sex, I am all ears. I’ve even got marshmallows.”

Buffy saw the sincerity on her friends face and felt something crack deep inside her. She’d been prepared for judgment at worst and stoic acceptance at best. Being met with such openness and warmth took her by surprise and she found she couldn’t hold back anymore. Her eyes welled up and before she could reign it in and full body sobs shook her.

As she cried, Willow rubbed her back and let her get it all out, careful to avoid pushing her to talk. It was exactly what she’d needed to be able to open up.

And open up she did. It was like the levies broke and all the confusion and hurt came pouring out. She told Willow about what happened in the Hellmouth. About her last days with Spike, how he supported her and strengthened her when no one else could, or would. This last part she said without any venom, all her anger and resentment at Willow long gone.

She even spoke about their last night together. How they’d made love in the basement, on that shitty cot. The first and only time they’d ever been truly intimate, Buffy’s walls fully down, her heart totally exposed.

“I know having sex with someone isn’t like, a big deal or anything. Especially when you’ve had sex as many times as we did.”

Buffy cringed as the words left her mouth. The familiar guilt over her physical affair with Spike flaring up.

“No!” Willow exclaimed.

“Buffy no. It is a big deal. It’s like, the biggest of deals. You and sex haven’t exactly had the most copacetic relationship, no offense.”

She smiled apologetically, eliciting a soft laugh from Buffy despite the anxiety that was clenching her gut.

“If you let yourself feel something good with Spike, even just that one time, it’s important. Special. You shouldn’t downplay that. He loved you and you let him show it to you. It’s romantic.”

At that Buffy really laughed.

“God Will. Spike. Romantic.”

Willow laughed too.

“You know...it’s not that weird. Remember when he kidnapped me and Xander? He wanted me to do a love spell for Drusilla. I think he’s always had a romantic streak. In a weird, murdery, vampire kinda way”

Buffy shook her head in amusement.

“Did I ever tell you Spike was a poet when he was human?”

Willows eye widened, and her hands flew to cover her cackling laugh.

“A poet? Oh my gosh. That’s...that’s too good.”

Buffy took a sip of her mocha, relishing the warm caffeinated goodness before adding, “he would kill me for telling you this but, the best part is the whole “William the Bloody” thing? That’s because he had a reputation for being such a terrible poet.”

At that Willow dissolved into full on giggles, hands clutching her stomach

“Ugggggh ok ok, I’m done laughing. Promise. Also why is that so cute? That’s so cute. Little Spike the poet.”

Buffy sighed. “The thing is Spike has this immense capacity for love. Even as a violent serial killer he was still driven by love. It scared me. That he was so willing to throw himself headfirst into love without a shadow of doubt. I’ve never...I’ve never been like that.”

She looked up at Willow, trying to read her reaction. The witch just nodded encouragingly for her to go on.

“I just...I told Giles once that I didn’t know if I could love. I was worried I was broken, like all the slaying made me cold and loveless or something.”

“Buffy, no,” Willow cut in, but Buffy held up a hand to stop her.

“I know it’s not true. I died to save Dawn, to save all of you, weeks after I said that.” Buffy’s eyes filled up again but this time she swallowed it down and wiped them clean.

“He really loved me Will. And I don’t know that I was in love with him but that last night we spent together...I kind of thought that I could be, someday. You know? I wanted him to know that. To know that there was a chance for us. I figured we’d have all the time in the world after...”

Buffy trailed off, suddenly tired. She didn’t need to explain the rest. How Spike had died, believing she’d never love him. How all the time she thought she’d have to figure out if she could evaporated in a burst of fire and ash.

—————————

She’d reached the cemetery gates just as the sun broke through the horizon. Her car was covered in dew, glistening in the hazy morning light.

She still couldn’t believe she had learned how to drive. And on the wrong side of the road! Her mom would die of shock if she were still around.

The thought of Joyce made her wistful. If only her mom could see her now. In her heart Buffy new her mom would be proud of the choices she’d made. She’d encourage her to let go of the past and focus on the future. She’d be overjoyed to know that Buffy had a future now. Sure, it still involved a massive amount of slayage but for the first time in a long time, the fate of the world didn’t rest solely on her shoulders. Her mom would tell her to embrace that and to live this new life to the fullest.

I’m trying mom.

Her phone buzzed again, and this time Buffy yanked it out in annoyance and flipped it open.

“What do you want?”

The silence on the other end only ticked her off more. If it was so important for someone to call her three times before she’d even had a cup of tea they could freaking respond when she finally picked up.

“Hello? I’m hanging up in three seconds if you don’t get all un-ghostface on me and just tell me what you want.”

She heard a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line. Her annoyance bled to curiosity and she willed herself to be patient.

Infusing her voice with a level of calm she didn’t feel, she asked “Do you need help or something? I don’t know how you got this line if you’re not part of Scooby Central but…you got me.”

The silence eked on for seconds that felt like minutes before the caller sighed. Buffy’s pulse shot up, anticipation making her antsy. She shuffled from foot to foot, fighting her instinct to hang up. If this was a Potential calling for help she needed to wait it out.

Finally, a voice broke through the silence.

“Slayer?”

Buffy dropped the phone on the ground, her fingers losing the ability to function along with her brain, which had gone fuzzy and staticky at the sound of the all too familiar voice on the other end of the line.

She stared down at her phone, the call still connected, wondering if she had fallen asleep somehow.

A muffled “bloody hell” came out of the fallen phone, causing Buffy to gasp and jump back. She crouched down low, getting as close to the phone as she could without actually picking it back up.

“Shit. SHIT. Spike?”

The muttering and cursing stopped.

“Slayer…yea. It’s a long story. But yea.”

Buffy felt her limbs turn to jelly and she sat down on the cold gravel, her head falling into her hands. A sob bubbled up from her chest, turning into a laugh that she couldn’t control. She giggled for a solid minute before gingerly picking her phone up and pressing it to her ear.

“How? You better explain yourself right now.” Her voice was edged with steel, anxiety and adrenaline giving way to nervous anger. If this was someone’s idea of a sick joke she was going to get murdery.

She could almost hear Spike roll his eyes.

“Good god woman, can’t I come back to life without brassing you off?”

She bit her lip to stop a smile, not willing to let hope overrule a protective layer of skepticism.

Rocking back on her heels Buffy gulped down the crisp morning air, willing her body to calm down so she could take stock of the situation. Her dead ex sort of boyfriend was calling her…she looked at the phone number quickly…from LA. Ok. She could handle this. She was the Slayer, queen of things that go bump in the night and let’s face it, this wasn’t her first ex to come back from the great beyond. If Angel could do it…Angel.

“Spike, why are you calling me from LA?”

He sighed again and she could picture him rubbing the back of his neck, a grimace on his face as he debated the best way to tell her what was going on.

Despite the rush of anger, her heart warmed at the thought.

“Eh look, I said it was complicated. I just thought it was right. Telling you I was alive. Thought you should know is all.”

Whatever ice had melted in her heart immediately froze back up. No way was Spike going to call her from beyond the grave and then immediately get shady and secretive.

“So, is that your weird dodgy British way of saying you’re not going to tell me why you’re calling me from LA? Where Angel lives? Are you with Angel?”

She heard Spike mutter something to himself that sounded an awful lot like “bloody bint”. She rolled her eyes and stood up, pacing the lot in an attempt to keep her temper in check.

“Yea. Alright yea.”

His voice had changed, his accent becoming sharper, and she knew he was starting to get worked up.

“I’m in LA and I’m with Angel. If you want to talk to him you can damn well call him yourself. I don’t know what I was thinking. Bloke comes back as a sodding ghost, gets himself corporealized by a nice scientist bird and calls his girl up and she wants to know about Angel. Figures.”

Buffy rolled her eyes, not even bothering to interrupt his tirade. She knew he’d run out of steam eventually.

“Are you finished?”

Spike sighed again and Buffy felt the fight go out of her. She sat down on the hood of her car, overwhelmed by the emotions swirling within.

“Yea Slayer. I’m finished.”

Buffy’s shoulders slumped and she laid back, gazing up at the sky. It was going to be a cloudy day.

“How?”

“That’s the million-dollar question love. Seems no one can answer it.”

“Wait.” Buffy sat up; brow furrowed in concentration as she started to put together the various odd things Spike had said so far.

“You were a ghost?”

She tried to picture that. Spike all floaty and haunty. The image made her chuckle, which she quickly tried to suppress.

“Yea, yea, yea, laugh it up. I don’t know if I was a ghost. I was a something. Couldn’t touch, couldn’t feel. Just trapped at bloody Wolfram & Hart with your beloved Prince of Brooding.”

“Wolf ram and what now?”

“It doesn’t matter. Done what I set to do. You know. Guess I’ll let you get back to it then.”

Buffy felt white hot anger burning in her chest. Did he really think he was going to call her up, say hey, and then leave? Maybe forever? Who did he think he was?

“Fine,” she spat out.

“Fine,” came Spike’s huffy reply.

They’d reached a stalemate and Buffy did the only thing she could think of doing.

She hung up.

She stuffed the phone in her pocket, unlocking the car door and sliding into the front seat. She stared out the frosted windshield for a moment before screaming at the top of her lungs. When that didn’t calm the storm she felt brewing inside she slammed her hands repeatedly into the steering wheel. The metal and leather began to crunch and warp under the weight of her blows but she didn’t care. She felt like someone had set her insides on fire. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t cry, couldn’t do anything but scream and rage into the void.

Eventually she ran out of steam. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed but her throat was raw. Rubbing her face she switched into Slayer mode. Something was up and she was going to get to the bottom of it. Cagey Spike and his caginess be damned.

She forwarded the number he’d called her from to Willow and Andrew. Between the two of them they’d be able to trace it and dig up some dirt on where Spike was. As for how he got there, she was going to need boots on the ground. Luckily Kennedy had last checked in from Arizona a couple of days ago. She couldn’t be far from there and she owed Buffy more than one favor. She might not be Spike’s biggest fan, but she would do some recon and get Buffy the answers she needed. Once she knew what was going on, she could show up in LA and punch Spike and Angel in the face herself.

Buffy felt calmer. She had a plan. It wasn’t perfect but it was a start.

She’d let Spike get away once before. This time would be different. She didn’t know why or how but it seemed the Powers That Be had given her a second chance.

She wouldn’t waste it.

—end—

85 notes · View notes

3laxx · 3 years

Text

Bring It Home

The sadness stayed, especially when her gaze fell onto the bucket list she had written for Luz and herself, still without a title. With the sleep still in her eyes and her fingers slightly uncoordinated, she added Emira’s title on the head of the paper, before getting herself dressed in her school uniform, getting ready for the day. Another day without Luz.

---

Amity vows to complete the bucket list Luz and her created.

I couldn't help myself! In this fanfiction, the part 3 of the Home series, I'll focus on Amity working down the bucket list she and Luz had talked about. This will be multichaptered and I'll keep the chapter length around 2k to 3k words to keep it short and bring the point across. Anyone not wanting to read any point of the bucket list will be welcome to skip whichever they wish x) I didn't want to make it one big story with like 10k words because I wanted to make the bucket list therapeutic for Amity and with that, work through a lot of feelings. Jumping between happiness and devastation didn't fit into in-chapter jumps, so I'l make multiple little Oneshots and put according warnings in front of each should heavy topics be addressed. With that, have a lot of fun reading!

Ao3 / FF.net

---

Sighing, Amity tapped on her desk with her pen, furrowing her eyebrows as she tried so desperately to remember what should be on their bucket list.

During Luz’s last moments, they had talked about what they had wanted to do in their lives, and it only seemed more than fair for Amity to fulfill luz’s wishes for her. They had talked about doing them together, after all, and she was almost sure Luz would want her to work down a bucket list.

First, Luz had said that she wanted to be a real witch, and Amity remembered telling her to check that one off. It was too easy, though. What made someone a real witch? She’d have to ask Eda about that.

The tapping on her desk irritated her after a few moments, so she stopped. It was too easy, just accepting that she was a real witch already like Luz had been. She didn’t want to make this point easy for herself. Luz deserved the effort for her to find out what a real witch was and how to achieve that dream of hers.

She had also wanted to read the new Azura book. Well, Amity would have to wait until it came out in a few weeks but she’d read it for her, out loud, every evening, and imagine Luz would join into her squealing when hopefully, their favorite ship would get together.

Luz had also mentioned sky diving and skiing but Amity doubted that these were real wishes of her to put them on the bucket list. She had probably just wanted to fill her list. Nonetheless, Luz had said it and Amity would do these things for her.

It had been a week now, that they had ceremoniously burnt Luz’s body and sang her into the sky. It was forbidden to bury people for the human tradition Luz had told her about, since the Titan’s magic tended to resurrect buried corpses as zombies. Burying her would’ve been a safety hazard to the Isles. But luckily, Luz had told her of this other human tradition to burn people, and even if that seemed barbaric to her, if it was Luz’s wish, so be it. Usually, the Boiling Isles funeral tradition demanded the corpse to be boiled by the sea, but Luz had mentioned that someone she had known had been burnt, too, so they had decided to honor this tradition.

It had been a nice, small ceremony, with no big speeches and just a lot of mourning. They had all supported each other, even Boscha had shown up and hugged Amity tightly after the fire had burned down, leaving just a pile of ashes of their friend.

She had mentioned wanting to skip school. Luz had been on board and Titan, if it would make her mother explode, Amity would skip school for Luz.

The human had wanted to do her bucket list as well, so she had jotted down her own wishes as well. The next had been Luz’s suggestion, but honestly, she actually wanted to smash stuff for once. Maybe she could find some junk to blow up or something. Maybe even an old chair from the manor. Amity was sure they had at least some ruled-out furniture in their attic.

The next point was harder to fulfill.

Amity had hoped she could somehow get Luz to make that wish come true for her, and if she was being honest, it had been a pretty poor attempt to somehow get her feelings across. She was almost glad Luz hadn’t jumped on this, even if she had later realized that this was due to her dying, unfortunately, and probably not wanting to promise her something that would give Amity false hopes.

If she had even wanted to kiss her. Even if Willow assured her that Luz would have.

Tapping on her desk again, she narrowed her eyes. What had happened after that?

Looking over her list again, and the notes she had jotted down around it, she grumbled. Her memory had always been really good, but it was hard to see through the haze of emotions to reliably recall the painful memory.

- Be a real witch (what’s a real witch? Ask Eda)

- Read the new Azura book (Maybe Hecazura will happen!!)

- (Sky diving and Skiing – I’ll do it, not the priority, though)

- Skip school (Which lesson would be best to skip?)

- Smash stuff (Check attic)

- Kiss someone

What else was there?

And who would she kiss?

Shaking her head, Amity grumbled, then she tapped her pen again before leaning back and closing her eyes, resting her head bent back on the backrest of her chair.

Luz had asked what she could do right now, as the moment of her death had drawn closer. Amity had been so distracted by her stupid homework. What had she said to her? Right, that she could scream.

Cringing, Amity opened her eyes again and jotted it down. Screaming.

Telling that a dying person had probably been the definition of putting her foot in her mouth.

- Scream (wow)

What else had she suggested to Luz? Right, write a poem. Groaning, Amity put that down as well. She couldn’t have thought of anything better to tell her? Why did she have to say these random things? Amity was maybe kind of into drawing, but otherwise, her artistic side had come a bit short until now. She wasn’t poetic, and she sure wasn’t going to be good at writing a poem. While she wrote it down, her eyebrows soothed, though, and she breathed out. She wouldn’t have to be good at it. She would just have to put the effort in, the result didn’t have to be perfect. This was Luz’s bucket list, not an exam she had to pass.

She was sure Luz would’ve loved whatever she would’ve written and had her read it. She probably would’ve tried helping her. It didn’t feel good being left to her own devices, but she’d be damned if she didn’t at least try her best.

- Write a poem (for Luz)

She doubted the next one had actually been on the bucket list, but her heart broke all over when she remembered Luz’s voice thinning, getting blocked when she choked it out.

- See her mother (Name? Camille? Camila?)

She had sounded so sad. Amity hadn’t understood why she had been so sad over this. Well, sure, the connection to the human realm had been severed and she was pretty sure Luz had been homesick and was missing her mother a lot, but she hadn’t ever experienced Luz so sad over this. More hopeful, and self-assured that she’d find a way back.

It hadn’t been until she had sung with the others around Luz’s funeral fire that she had understood she had been so unbelievably sad because she knew she’d have to wave that dream goodbye.

She hadn’t realized what Luz had realized at that exact moment.

That she’d never ever again see her mother.

Amity would have to make sure she’d see Luz’s mother for her, even if that meant that she’d have to deliver the sad news.

Sighing, she then remembered the last thing they had talked about. Changing people’s lives, dancing, being home.

Her vision was clouded by tears when she jotted the last point down to her bucket list.

- Make a legacy

Luz had thought about what her legacy had been. And Amity had provided her some answers, thinking it was a joke but she knew exactly what Luz’s legacy had been.

She had been the most extraordinary girl she had ever met.

And Amity knew exactly that to preserve her legacy, of all her actions and thoughts and wishes, would be to meticulously write about Luz’s journey.

She’d have to work together with everyone on this, maybe even her mother if she ever found a way to the human realm in Luz’s name, but she would try her damn best to make sure Luz’s legacy of being the most awesome person would be carried on.

Maybe someday, another human would stumble across the Boiling Isles, and reading about Luz would give them the time of their lives. Or maybe, a young witch would have trouble performing magic and become the most skillful witch of their class once they’d discover glyphs that Luz had cultivated.

And maybe a young demon would wish to be a witch and Luz’s story would inspire them to become a witch. A real one, whatever that meant.

Smiling, Amity looked over her list, adding some more notes here and there, before underlining the actual tasks on her bucket list, then she frowned when her gaze found the head of the page.

She’d have to find a title for her mission. Luz had loved finding titles for missions, she thought to remember.

“Bucket list” just didn’t seem to cut it, exactly.

Mash their names to personalize their list? No, that’d come off as kind of pathetic. Besides, even if she did have a crush on Luz, making them a shipping name just kind of took it too far for Amity.

Trying to get into Luz’s enthusiasm, she pointed her pen to the sky, trying to impersonate Luz’s impression of Azura whenever she would pretend to get into one of her great speeches.

“Luz’s awesome wish list!”, she whisper-exclaimed, but slanted her lips, still looking up against the wall. No, that wasn’t it.

“Luz Noceda’s last-”, she immediately interrupted herself. She’d just make herself cry if she in any way acknowledged that these had been Luz’s last wishes. Besides, Amity’s bucket list was in there, too. It was kind of unfair to dishonor Luz’s wish to do both their bucket lists together. Huffing, her arm sunk and she pursed her lips, clicking her teeth together. Her growing fangs kind of caught in her lips so she stretched her lips by opening her mouth and then rearranging everything so her fangs wouldn’t bother her too much.

“… Amituz…? Hm.”, furrowing her eyebrows again, she looked back down to her list. What even would their mashed names sound like.

“Nocight.”, she shook her head. Taking their last names just made it worse, “Luzity?”

Sighing and leaning back, she once again grumbled and looked back to her bucket list.

“Lumity?”

The voice that most definitely wasn’t hers almost made her jump right out of her skin. Whipping her head around and dropping the pen, she shot a glare to the door, where her older sister was standing. She had apparently snuck to her room and eavesdropped on her trying to come up for mashed names for her and Luz. Huffing, Amity crossed her arms, trying to calm her rapidly beating heart.

“Emira! What’re you doing here?”, she snapped and her sister, weirdly not wearing a smug grin, let herself in to join Amity on her desk. Taking a look at the list sitting in front of her, she placed a soft hand on Amity’s shoulder and for some reason, the younger Blight couldn’t bring herself to snap at Emira more or hide the list.

After a moment, her sister turned to lean against the desk and look at her, her concerned gaze searching Amity’s face.

“… You okay?”

Shrugging, Amity sighed and looked over the list again, before meeting her sister’s gaze.

“I don’t know…”, she hesitatingly said and because Emira wouldn’t say anything more, she started to elaborate, “… I-… I remembered that, when Luz and I talked, she wanted to do our bucket lists together. So I wrote down what I remembered us wanting to do, still. Now I need a title.”

Her sister slowly nodded, before looking over the list again that was to her side, propping herself back on her arm when she turned to read it properly. Amity could see the slightest of smirks when she read – what Amity assumed – was the kiss part. She decided against commenting, though.

“So you thought about shipping?”

Huffing, Amity shook her head.

“These things are both of our requests, I just wanted to mash our names to make sure it was-… Expressing the bond.”

With an honestly serious expression, Emira gave her a nod. Apparently, she agreed.

“I’d go with Lumity.”, she quietly said, before looking back to her younger sister. The youngest Blight looked so tired, so matured through what she had seen going down in just the last week, “What about keeping it simple, ‘Lumity’s bucket list’? I think that’d be neat.”

Humming, Amity looked back to the list.

“You don’t think it’s kind of weird for me to use a shipping name on this?”, she quietly asked, before feeling Emira taking her hands and coaxing her to look at her, smiling.

“No, not at all. This is a very important thing for both of you. I think it’d only be fitting for you to mash your names. I say using a mashed name is more than fitting for both of you dorks.”

Sniffling, Amity nodded, lowering her head, She hadn’t even noticed her tears welling up. Quickly, Emira slipped from the desk and leaned down, wrapping her arms around Amity’s shoulders. The younger girl sunk into the embrace and melted into the warmth her sister was providing. They stayed like this for a moment, before Emira kneeled down and leaned back, reaching up to catch a tear rolling down Amity’s cheek.

“Take a break, hm? We could go to bed early, so you’ll be rested for tomorrow.”

Slowly, Amity nodded and got up, along with Emira, wanting to head to her bed but Emira caught her hand.

“Wanna sleep in my bed? We could cuddle a little?”, she softly asked and Amity actually couldn’t believe her for a little moment. The twins had really changed since Luz had come along, and she supposed Emira was serious about this offer.

Affection had never been a priority in a Blight’s life, but apparently, she seriously wanted to start making it a priority now. Amity felt herself hesitating, but her sister’s sincerity made her consider.

“… Yeah?”, she found herself asking and Emira nodded, smiling.

“We can get Edric to join us. You know my bed is big enough.”

This prospect actually made Amity shiver in, whatever it was she felt. Anticipation, excitement? Surprise?

She didn’t even feel herself nodding until Emira was already grabbing her pajamas off her bed and pulled on her hand. Letting Emira guide her out of the room, she followed her down the hall and they entered the twins’ room. They had refused to get separate rooms from each other and had instead opted for a study for themselves, but they had never wanted to sleep apart from each other.

Edric was already in his bed and dozing away over a book he was half holding still. Helping her still stunned sister, Emira and Amity changed into their pajamas, before the older girl went over to her twin’s bed and kicked the frame.

“Get up, we’re gonna cuddle.”, she barked and Edric shot up, his hair sticking out in different directions. Amity had to giggle at him seeming so dumbfounded, before he pushed aside the book and got up, yawning. Emira ushered Amity into her bed, which was indeed big enough to hold all three siblings, before taking her place next to her and pointing their sleepy brother to the other side. A moment later, Amity was cuddled into a warm cocoon of family, both her siblings tightly embracing her as they had adjusted the blanket over all three of them.

Softly smiling, Amity felt herself slipping to sleep, contently sighing. Edric was breathing into her neck and Emira was softly brushing through her hair, scratching her head, and tightening her grip around her little sister’s waist. Amity had never felt as content and warm and protected as she felt right now.

Curling into her siblings’ arms, she snuggled her nose into Emira’s shoulder and smiled to herself.

She could definitely get used to this.

This night, she slept better than any other night before. Cuddled into her siblings’ warmth, she was calm enough to sleep through the night and wake up rested, for the first time in a week.

It hurt slightly less than the first day in school without Luz, but she wouldn’t be able to get used to this yet. Not having Luz in school was still a very weird experience for her, and having to realize over and over again that she would never come back was even harder to do. It had just become sort of normal for her to deal with the pain until the day ended, the pain of not hearing her voice calling for her, of not feeling her presence next to her in lessons, of not smelling the lemon shampoo she used and of not smiling at her genius ways of utilizing magic the way she needed with her limited glyphs.

After making sure she would have everything for the day, Amity grabbed the bucket list as well, folded it neatly, and put it in her bag.

She swore she’d do everything in her power to fulfill Luz’s wishes of completing their bucket list.

---

Let me know if you liked it and if I should open suggestions for you guys?

#toh #the owl house #amity blight #eda clawthorne #willow park #gus porter #emira blight #edric blight #blight siblings #character death #fanfic #home series #sadness #grief #mourning #bucket list

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inkandpen22 · 3 years

Text

Shared Minds and Shared Souls (9/?)

Pairing: Spike x Female!Reader

Warnings: swearing, mentions of smut, fluff,

Word Count: 2k (exactly!)

Part Summary: Y/N and Spike are faced a very interesting dilemma that makes everyone wish they could have their memories wiped clean. Then, something unexpected happens...

Masterlist

Spike leaps up from my bed and towers over the side frantically. “Y/N? Y/N, what’s wrong?!”

I pant, feeling like I’m floating on a cloud as I stare up at the pretty blue and white smoke clouds above me. “Nothing! I feel great!”

“You’re bloody glowing!” Spike rushes out.

I glance down at my naked body on the bed. Oh look at that, I am! I’m basically a glowing smurf!

I giggle, glancing over at Spike. “Like a night light!”

“Okay, we’re going to get you dressed! Then, we’re going to ask Red and Pixie why in the fucking hell you look like the sun baby from Teletubbies!” He instructs, losing his shit for some reason.

I grab Spike’s wrist to stop him. “Let’s do it again!”

”You’re! Bloody! Glowing!” He emphasizes each word.

I sit up up my knees and drape my arms over his shoulders. “Aw come on, Baby,” I pout. “You know you want to do it again. I know you felt it too, that glorious release like every cell of your being ascended into another world.” I plant a series of kisses down his neck and across his collarbone. “If you were a warlock you’d look like a damn glow stick, am I wrong?”

He appears crossed, contemplating his option thoroughly. “Fine! Ten minutes! Then, we’re getting this sorted!”

Hungrily- as if doing it again was his idea- Spike smashes his lips to mine. God, it was only fifteen minutes tops we weren’t physically connected and it was far too long. I can’t get enough of it.

_______________________________________________

As promised, I complied and followed Spike downstairs. Gathered in the living room, I feel as though I’m on display. The last half hour... well... they’ve been interesting. I’m no longer glow so that’s good! The glowing faded once my heart rate subsided, but the need for Spike hasn’t gone anyway. When he moves, I move, and vice-versa. We can’t be more than an arm’s reach away from one another. It’s as though I can read his mind, I can tell just by looking at him what he’s thinking.

As Spike speaks up in the conversation, I listen back in.

“Let me check that I’m hearing you right Watcher, so when Y/N and I shagged, I made her finish so hard that she physically left her body,” he pieces together.

Everyone groans in disgust. I swat him on the arm, causing him to whine.

“Spike!” Buffy snaps warningly.

“Jesus,” Xander curses under his breath.

“I’m not answering that,” Giles refuses, pinching the bridge of his nose. “But sadly, in a way, yes,” he mumbles reluctantly.

Spike gives my thigh a squeeze, peering over at me with a cheeky grin. “Well, that fascinating ain’t it.”

“I’m not complaining,” I giggle quietly to him.

“If I remember correctly you were begging for it,” Spike whispers in my ear.

“Y/N!” A voice calls, but I’m too enthralled by the vampy next to me.

“Want to stay at the crypt tonight?” Spike offers in a purr.

I nod, my eyes falling to his lips needfully. He notices and leans in to satisfy me.

“Y/N!” Giles so rudely interrupts.

“What?!” My head snaps in the direction of the Watcher and he flinches, rightfully afraid.

Spike drapes his arm over my shoulders, bringing me into his side protectively. “Calm down, Love. Wouldn’t want to explode on accident,” he eases me gently.

I rub my hand up and down his leg comfortingly as I narrow my gaze at the older man across the room.

“You sought too much!” Giles explains harshly. “You consumed too much power, especially for your recovery state! When you let go at that depth inside someone else’s mind, you basically become sired to them!” The man removes his glasses to clean them anxiously.

“Oh my God,” I pout, pretending to care in the slightest.

“Is that such a bad thing?” Spike grins at the Scoobies unapologetically.

I address my pretty man, placing my hand against his chest. “Not at all, Baby.” I plant a sweet kiss to his lips.

“But Y/N is human,” Buffy points out correctly. “How could she be sired?”

“It’s not really a siring,” Giles struggles to articulate. “It’s honestly a piece of Y/N’s is existing in Spike and vice-versa. They basically blended their entities, becoming one in two bodies.”

“Is that why they’re so clingy?” Xander inquires, cowering in disgust.

“Yes,” Giles puts simply.

“Oh thank God,” Xander and Buffy say in unison.

Spike places a peck to my neck and mutters against my skin. “Would you like to stay at my place tonight? We can go all night long, Love,” he smiles against my neck.

I hum, “you know I do.”

“Okay, that’s it! We have to keep them apart,” Buffy snaps.

“What?!” Spike and I both break free of our hormonal daze.

“Spike can stay at Xander’s,” Buffy declares.

“Over my dead body,” Xander declares.

“That can be arranged,” I remark, not taking the scaredy-cat’s threat seriously.

Spike snickers, biting down on his lip to suppress the reaction.

“I’m not going anywhere without Spike!” I argue.

Spike tucks his fingers beneath my chin and directs my face to look at him. “Don’t worry, My Love, I won’t let them do that to us.”

Buffy appears in front of us, sitting on the coffee table directly across from me. “Y/N, what you feel for Spike isn’t real! I’ve been under a love spell with Spike before too, I get it! You have to believe me when I say that you don’t really feel this way!”

“But it is real Buffy!” I tell my cousin wholeheartedly.

“No Y/N!” She barks protectively. “You were vulnerable, Spike took advantage of you, and now you’re both stuck in some shared-soul-lovely-dovey mind trap! You would never kiss Spike intentionally and you certainly wouldn’t sleep with him!”

“Oh but she did,” Spike informs her calmly.

Buffy directs her attention at the man beside me. He simply narrows his eyes at her with a proud smirk.

“What do you mean?” She switches her sight between us nervously.

Spike leans forward, resting his arms on his knees. “Y/N and I felt it the day we met. She accidentally got in my head when we were fighting, we kissed, and ever since then we’ve tried to deny it but we’re drawn to each other. So there!” He adds as a final dig.

“This connection may be deeper than I originally predicted then,” Giles interjects. “If Y/N has truly been in Spike’s head repeatedly and has grown affections for him as a result, then this may be harder to reverse. Buffy was right, we need to separate them until we figure out a solution.”

“No!” Spike and I shout in unison.

“Willow, Tara, what we talked about!” Buffy shouts, returning to her safe place beside Giles.

The duo steps forward, reaching into their pockets. Spike grips my knee protectively. Defensively, I sit up, ready to take on any sort of spell they send our way. An immense sense of protection towards Spike overwhelms me. A charge and burst of energy ignite deep inside. My hands start to shake as my body begins to feel jittery.

I start to panic, I’ve never felt this way before! I don’t recognize this kind of energy. I snap my eyes up from my hands to Buffy, full of fear. Her face falls once she sees my reaction, comprehending that I have no control.

My pulse quickens and an all too familiar jolt knocks me back onto the couch. My eyes fall shut as I wince at the sudden surge, a raging headache consumes my mind.

“Y/N!” Spike grips my wrists, unafraid to touch me now.

My eyes snap open, all I see is the bright white light with blue edges. I hear everyone’s voices and see them, but it’s like they’re behind a blue vail.

“Uh, what’s happening?” Xander steps in front of Anya and backs away. “Willow!”

“I’m not sure! She must have the transferred energy still inside her and we triggered it somehow!” Willow yells, creeping back with Tara close beside her.

“She doesn’t know what she’s doing!” Tara adds.

I rise to my feet and peer down at my hands. Waves of electricity travel between my fingers, how pretty. I giggle, this could be fun. I might ride this pretty blue wave for a while.

Spike appears in front of me and grips my shoulders, lowering himself to my height. “Y/N! Y/N, look at me! This isn’t you!”

“You’re right,” I chuckle wickedly. “I’m ten times better now!”

“Spike, we have to restrain her somehow!” Buffy yells.

“No!” He barks at her over his shoulder. “Stay out of this Buffy!”

I snicker, amused by Spike finally telling off Buffy. Aw no, did the Slayer get put down?

Spike turns his attention back to me, but my focus remains on the group behind him.

“Y/N! Y/N, Baby, listen to me! You don’t use dark magic remember?!”

I scan the faces of each of the Scoobies. I dare one of them to tear me away from Spike. They don’t understand what we have! So what if I am practically sired to him? I don’t care if a part of my soul is trapped in him and the other way around!

Spike cups my face aggressively and makes me meet his gaze. His cornflower-blue eyes plead with me. I can’t deny my focus once I see them. They hypnotize me.

“You don’t believe magic should be used to cause harm!” Spike urgently tries to remind me.

I nod, processing his words. “You’re right.”

I wave my hand across the room with a flick of my wrist. Everyone falls to the floor with a thud except for me and Spike.

I peek over Spike’s shoulder with a grin. Well, that was easy! Watching all of them laying there in a pile is so sweet.

Spike frowns at my reaction and turns over his shoulder to see what I’ve done. I step beside him as he takes in the scene before us.

“What... what did you do?” He mutters, sounding nearly speechless.

“Don’t worry, they’re just fast asleep,” I shrug nonchalantly.

They’ll wake up... eventually. I’m still kind of getting used to all of this energy inside me so I’m not sure of the longevity of my spells.

“This isn’t you,” Spike repeats as he stares at the clump of Scoobies. “I’m not talking to Y/N. I’m talking to the magic that’s lingering inside her.”

Honestly, he’s starting to sound like a nag. Blah, blah, blah, words, words, word, goodness! Why is everyone cramping my new style?!

“Same difference,” I inform him a matter-of-factly. Holding up my two palms, I demonstrate. “Y/N is magic, magic is Y/N.”

Spike shakes his head, “Y/N, the real Y/N, would never do this. She believes in healing, protective, and elemental magic. This... this is manipulation and destruction.”

Ignoring his preaching, I hold out my hand. “Take my hand.”

He peers over at me, an unfamiliar expression etched on his features. It’s almost worrying, maybe even fearful.

“Why?” He asks simply.

My brows scrunch together in confusion. His reaction isn’t what I was expecting. He’s supposed to be the big-bad, right? Why is he acting apologetic and hero-like all of sudden?

I reach up and caress his cheek gently, no longer hesitant to touch him. After all, we’re already dividing our souls. There’s nothing more to give.

“I’m taking us somewhere safe,” I assure him. “Just you and me.”

His eyes remain almost guilt-ridden as he glances over at Buffy and her friends. This isn’t the Spike I know. The Spike I’m falling in love with. Nevertheless, he slips his hand into mine and gives it a comforting squeeze. His eyes pour into mine.

“I’ll go with you, but only to get the real Y/N back,” he states warningly. “I’m never letting you out of my sight until I do.”

I snicker wickedly, “looking forward to it.”

_______________________________

Masterlist

Tags: @mx-pibbles @hexmancia @it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream

#spike x reader #spike x buffy #spuffy #spikexreader #spike fanfic #spike #buffy summers #buffy s 5 #buffy s5 #buffy #buffy the vampire slayer #buffy the vampire slayer imagine

64 notes · View notes

olliepig · 3 years

Text

Centre Stage - chapter 8

A bit of a change of scene for this chapter - it’s now Virgil’s turn to get a bit of attention and start getting to know Cat.

Massive thanks are due to the wonderful @willow-salix for her betaing prowess, and to @misssquidtracy for listening to me complain about it.

As always, the whole thing is available on AO3 here.

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

“Virgil,” Lily called, running up behind him as they crossed through the giant space directly behind the Royal Opera House stage and grabbing his hand to get his attention. “Come and look at this. It’s the set for The Nutcracker.”

“That’s right,” Cat smiled, as Virgil turned, his eyes wide as he took in the massive ornate staircase and walls that towered over them, amazed that he had been so engrossed in conversation with Lily’s mom, Karen, that he had managed to miss spotting them himself. “That’s the Kingdom of the Sweets in Act Two.”

“I knew that already,” Lily informed her earnestly. “We saw it last year and I recognised it from then.”

“Not much gets past you does it?” laughed Cat, her eyes sparkling in amusement as Karen shook her head, suppressing a small laugh at her daughter as she did so.

“No, everyone says I’m very observant,” Lily informed her, confidence oozing out of her now that she had something to focus on, despite having been slightly overawed by the dancer when they had first met at stage door only twenty minutes before. “And look, there’s the Christmas Tree, and the big wheelchair from the battle against the mouse king, and the gingerbread house.”

Allowing her to drag him behind her as she pointed things out, Virgil smiled at how different she was from the little girl who had clung to him, terrified and whimpering for her mum as her home burned around them, a collapsed roof beam blocking their way to safety. He’d never admitted it to anyone but, while they were trapped together waiting for Gordon to arrive, there had been more than a few moments in which he had worried that the outcome might be very different. Trying to distract her as they sat in her bedroom, wet towels blocking the worst of the smoke from entering, he asked about the multitude of ballet posters on the wall and was surprised when she lit up and seemed to enter another world, talking animatedly about her trip to see the Royal Ballet the previous year and how she wanted to be a ballerina when she grew up.

Her passion for it had shone through and that, combined with her bravery in coping with the rescue, made him want to treat her to something special so, as soon as he had been able to, he had contacted Cat to see if there was anything she could do. He had to admit that both she and the company had really gone above and beyond what he had expected, and the fact that Lily had insisted that he accompany her on her special day had made his heart swell.

Her excitement was infectious, and Virgil could feel himself getting caught up in it as he looked around, seeing bits of sets from various different productions all stacked up together, awaiting their next turn on the stage. The space was enormous, much larger than he had imagined it to be based on his previous experiences of being backstage in a theatre during school productions. He’d enjoyed helping to build and paint the sets for those, but the craftsmanship that clearly went into what he saw in front of him made them seem amateur by comparison, the thought making him smile as he realised that, of course, they were.

What looked like a Victorian street scene stood off to one side, attracting his attention and, as Cat talked through The Nutcracker sets with her other guests, he wandered over to take a closer look. Scrawled writing on the back of one of the pieces told him that it was from Act Two of the opera La Boheme, and he lightly ran his fingers over the paint, marvelling at the level of detail that was there, especially as it would never even be visible from the auditorium.

The sight reminded him vividly of an argument he’d had with his art teacher about just that, where he had wanted to make everything as realistic as possible but was told not to bother because it wouldn't be seen anyway. Despite the fact that nearly fifteen years had passed since then, part of him dearly wanted to take pictures and get back in touch to show that he had been right all along, but somehow it didn’t really seem worth it. He was vindicated and ultimately, that was all that mattered.

He could feel the buzz of creativity throughout the whole building as he stood there, dancers making their way past him in costume on their way to the stage for the matinee performance that was already underway. He longed to sit quietly, soaking it all in but as Lily bounced over to him and took his hand, once again dragging him behind her as they made their way up to the rehearsal studios, he was shaken out of his reverie and reminded why he was there in the first place.

Maybe if he spoke to Cat nicely, he thought, she’d let him come back himself another time and truly get to explore and experience all that the theatre had to offer.

-x-

Settling down on seats at the front of the light, airy studio as the dancers conferred with their coach before beginning the rehearsal, Virgil could feel the excitement continuing to radiate off Lily in waves. She was fidgeting in her seat and had been told more than once to sit still but neither he nor Karen were certain that she’d be able to manage it.

Cat, her dance partner, Mark, and the man who had been introduced as their coach, Alexander, moved around the space, marking out what Vigil assumed were bits of choreography. Words of their discussion floated over to him but much of it seemed to be both technical and in French so he quickly gave up trying to make sense of it and sat back to take in the experience instead.

Despite his interest in the rest of the scene before him, his eyes were repeatedly drawn to Cat as she worked, her serious demeanour in contrast to the fun, playful girl that he’d seen when she was on the island. He had no idea why, but now that she was changed into her leotard, tutu and pointe shoes, it had given him a totally different perspective on her, as if his brain had previously not quite put two and two together and realised that she was actually at her place of work and would naturally be dressed accordingly.

It was a regret of his that circumstances had meant he’d not managed to spend more time with her when he had the chance, especially given the apparent seriousness of her developing relationship with his brother. Being allowed to meet one of Scott’s partners was a new experience for all of the family, and getting to spend time with them one to one would have been unthinkable up until now, so this was completely new territory for him. His protective streak for his older brother was well known but Scott’s uncharacteristic openness about her and the way he lit up whenever her name was mentioned made him think that she was perhaps someone who would be around for the long haul and that he should make the most of this opportunity to start getting to know her better.

Movement beside him as Alexander sat down brought him out of his reverie and he looked up just in time to catch Cat flashing him a smile as she and Mark took their places for the start of the Grand Pas de Deux. As the music started, he watched in amazement as she transformed from the woman that he knew into a regal fairy, dancing with her prince. On the stage, he could imagine how effortless it would look but in the confines of the studio, there was no question over the amount of sheer grit and determination it took to get through. The slow movement was followed immediately by two solos and then a coda, and by the time it was over, he could see both dancers dripping with sweat and breathing heavily as they took the applause of their small audience. The fact that they were still on their feet made Virgil fairly certain that both dancers were superhuman. However, the panting heap on the floor that followed their bows suggested that they were, in fact, just like everyone else.

“Very good,” called Alexander as they struggled back onto their feet at the sound of their coaches' voice, catching their breath in preparation for whatever would come next. “Take a moment and we’ll go through a few corrections.”

Virgil smiled at Lily, getting as much enjoyment out of watching her, as she looked on in rapt attention as correction after correction was given out, changing the inflection of a gesture here and the tiniest hint of a movement there. It was painstaking work and, as each adjustment was given and worked through by Cat and Mark, he became more and more aware of how much of a perfectionist Cat must be. He had to admit, she even put Scott to shame.

“Right, we’re not going to run it again so I think it’s time for our newest Sugar Plum to show us what she can do,” Alexander turned to Lily who jumped up straight away, so desperate to join in that she had already put her ballet shoes on in preparation.

“I’ve been practising the Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy,” she told him excitedly, speaking so quickly that it was hard to keep up.

“How wonderful,” Cat jumped in with a smile. “If you’re willing to show us, I’d love to see it. It’s a really difficult solo and I always love seeing how other dancers interpret it.”

Lily beamed and quickly nodded her assent, pride radiating out of her at the suggestion that her dancing was on a par with the two experienced professionals, as she ran up to the back of the studio to take her place.

“Are you ready?” Cat asked, smiling at the enthusiasm and confidence in the young dancer, knowing that she’d have absolutely gone to pieces if given the same opportunity when she was that young.

With a nod of confirmation from Lily, the music started, familiar strains of Tchaikovsky filling the studio. With no hesitation, the young dancer moved through the dance, her natural ability shining through. The fact that she kept to a comparatively small area in the studio told Cat that she had likely taught herself the dance in her own home rather than working on it with a teacher in a larger space.

A smile passed across Cat’s face as she watched her, reminded of all the times that she had studied recordings again and again, learning the dances by herself and dreaming of the day that she would get to perform on the stage instead of in her bedroom. Sitting forward to watch her critically, Lily’s lack of formal training was clear but, given her age and obvious talent, she knew that there was absolutely no impediment to the girl having a successful career if the right opportunities were made available to her.

“That was fantastic,” Cat declared as Lily’s applause died down. “You really danced that beautifully.”

“I agree,” Virgil concurred. “I think it’s a tough call to decide who did it better but I think Lily might have just nudged it. Sorry Cat.”

“I’d agree with that,” Mark chipped in. “It was a close call but I think Lily had a softness to her that you don’t have yet Cat.”

“Well, I guess I’ll just need to work on it a bit more then, won’t I?” smiled Cat, thoroughly enjoying the confidence that was shining out of the girl. “Now, how about we teach you the start of the adagio and you can dance it with Mark?”

“Really?” Lily cried, her eyes lighting up.

“Really. I’d be honoured to be the prince to such a beautiful Sugar Plum Fairy,” Mark said, stepping forward with a bow, making Lily giggle.

“But if I dance with him, who’s going to dance with you?” Lily asked, turning to Cat, her forehead creased in worry.

“Nobody, but that’s OK. I don’t mind,” Cat replied with a smile.

“I think you should dance with Virgil. He could be a prince for you,” Lily continued, fixing Virgil with a pleading look that he knew he was powerless to refuse.

“I’m not sure Virgil really wants to be a prince,” Cat replied gently, looking over questioningly at him, surprised to find that he was already taking his shoes off in preparation.

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” he replied with a shrug, a grin creeping over his face. “Today is all about Lily, so if the young lady wants me to dance, then I shall dance.”

“OK then,” Cat laughed, turning back to Lily and ushering her into the centre of the studio where Mark was waiting for her. “Well then, Lily, it looks like you’ve found me a new prince so you don’t need to worry about me.”

Cat held out her hand to Virgil, tugging him into the centre of the studio and helping him to organise himself into the closest approximation he could manage of the starting position that Mark was already demonstrating.

“So, the first four counts of four are really just the preparation, so take that time to walk around in a small circle, stepping up into fifth position on demi pointe in the final one as Mark bows to you,” Cat began, directing Lily around the space. “Then you want to take a step towards him, back up into fifth position croise, holding his hand for support and then use that front leg for a developpe devant. Good, just like that. Now, bring that working leg back through retire and into attitude derrière. While you’re doing that, Mark is going to spin you around slowly OK?”

Cat demonstrated the sequence to Lily, using Virgil as her partner, effortlessly maneuvering him into place with a gentle, but firm, guiding hand and verbally running through the steps once again, more for Virgil's benefit than Lily's, then returning to assist her and Mark.

Lily nodded, hanging on every word as the two dancers fussed around her, correcting her position and making sure she was comfortable.

“Once you get there, put your hand on his shoulder, and use that for balance if you need it while he lets go of your other hand so you can untangle it after the turn,” Cat continued, watching with critical eyes as Lily tentatively reached up and placed her hand on Mark’s shoulder, looking back over to Cat for confirmation once she had done so. “That’s perfect. Now he’s going to promenade you around so just hang on and try to keep your balance while you hold that position. Let him do the work.”

“Do you understand a word they’re saying?” Virgil asked quietly, shuffling closer to Lily’s mum, Karen so he wasn’t overheard.

“Not a single thing,” she smiled, glad that she wasn’t alone in being baffled.

“I hope you’re paying attention, Virgil,” Cat called over, somehow having developed eyes on the back of her head. “It’s going to be your turn next.”

Virgil jumped guiltily but grinned as he returned to his designated position with a cheeky, "Yes, ma'am."

***

“So, what made you want to do this for a living?” Virgil asked, gesturing to the studio as Cat pulled on a tracksuit over her rehearsal clothes, their time in the studios having come to an end.

Lily and Karen had been whisked off for a tour of the theatre now that the matinee had finished, after which they were being treated to a meal and tickets to the evening performance of Coppelia. Mark had already left for another rehearsal, leaving just the two of them until Scott and Selene arrived for dinner later.

“It was my grandma,” Cat told him with a small smile, standing and shouldering her bag. “She brought me to see Swan Lake here when I was six and from then on I couldn’t imagine not being a part of this world.”

“Aww that’s lovely,” Virgil grinned, remembering all the things he'd done with his own. “Grandma’s are the best.”

“They sure are,” Cat nodded, holding open the studio door and ushering Virgil out into the corridor, making their way down to her dressing room. “I couldn’t stop talking about ballet afterwards so she started sneaking me to classes. My mum didn’t approve and thought it was a waste of time but if Grandma paid then she was happy to go along with it.”

“I’ll never understand why people think the arts are a waste of time,” Virgil commented, remembering well how he felt his love of painting had been treated at times.

“Me neither,” Cat agreed. “They can give kids so much freedom of expression and a confidence that they don’t get anywhere else and it really annoys me when art and theatre get dismissed.”

“I can relate to that,” he nodded. “So, did you go to classes all the way through school then? I don’t really know how it all works I’m afraid.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to,” Cat reassured him, suppressing a grin at the appreciative glances that were being thrown an oblivious Virgil’s way as they dodged around a group of dancers heading back from the stage. “My dance teacher suggested I audition to become a Junior Associate of the Royal Ballet School when I was eight and when I got in, Grandma snuck me up to London for my class every Saturday morning, bless her. Then, when I got into the school at eleven, she took on my mum and stepdad and convinced them to let me go.”

“Were they not keen on the idea?” Virgil asked, knowing that Cat didn’t speak to any of her family and wondering if that might have had something to do with it.

“You could say that,” Cat laughed, opening the door to her dressing room and ushering Virgil inside. “They hated the idea of fee-paying schools and thought that full time training at that age was a waste of time. After a lot of arguing, they told me that if I took the place, I wouldn’t be part of the family any more and that they’d do what they legally had to until I was sixteen but then I’d have to figure it out for myself. Grandma reassured me I’d always have a place with her so I went, but she passed away when I was halfway through my first year and I was pretty much on my own after that.” “That’s terrible,” Virgil gasped, wondering how anyone could be so callous to their own child.

“Yeah, it wasn’t ideal,” Cat agreed with a shrug as she dropped her bag on the floor and took her seat at her mirror, gesturing to Virgil to take his pick of the other seats scattered around the room as she did so. “Luckily, Penny had taken me under her wing by then so I was OK in the end, but it wasn’t great.”

“Do you have any contact with them at all any more?” Virgil asked, intrigued enough to ask despite his uncertainty about whether he was treading a little too close to the edge of what was acceptable or not. From what he’d seen so far, she seemed very open and willing to answer anything, but he knew only too well that appearances could be deceptive.

“My mum occasionally comes crawling out of the woodwork when she wants something,” Cat shrugged, pulling pins out of her hair and shaking it out so it tumbled around her shoulders. “I’ve not spoken to my stepdad since I was sixteen, thank God, and my real dad walked out when I was five. I don’t even know if he’s still alive or not, so he’s not in the picture either. I don’t have any brothers or sisters that I know about either, so I’ve probably got the easiest family history to trace ever.”

“It’s quite the difference from our family,” Virgil mused. “Obviously we lost our mom when we were all quite young, but at least we had Dad on our side until we were mostly grown. It was tough after his accident though, and Scott had to take on a lot.”

“Yeah, I can’t even imagine how hard that must have been for all of you,” Cat sympathised. “I think it was probably easier for me because I always knew that it was coming so I was able to prepare myself for it.”

“Well that’s one way of looking at it,” Virgil laughed, amazed at the relentless positivity that Cat seemed to exude about what must be the darkest moments of her history. “Changing the subject slightly, can I ask you something?

“Ask away,” Cat invited, taming her hair into a long plait as she watched him in the mirror, wondering what was coming her way next.

“Does it cost a lot to become a dancer?” he asked tentatively, knowing that finance was not always something that people were comfortable talking about. “It’s just that, when we were waiting for Gordon to dig us out, Lily told me that she wants to be a ballerina but her mum had said it was too expensive for her to go to a proper ballet school. I wasn’t sure what she meant at the time but I assume she was talking about one of the full-time ones?”

Cat sighed, knowing only too well that funding was a massive issue for the arts in general but ballet was a profession that needed specialist training from a young age that not everyone could afford.

“Unfortunately, depending on her circumstances, she may be right,” she agreed reluctantly. “Local ballet schools are fine for the first bit of training and for dancing for fun, but for most kids, if they want to be a professional, then they need to go to one of the big residential schools and they can cost a fortune. I was lucky enough to get a scholarship but there aren’t many of them to go around so a lot of talented kids never even get the chance.” “That’s such a shame,” Virgil sighed, his brain immediately kicking into gear to think up ways that he could help.

“Yeah, it’s something that’s bothered me for years,” Cat agreed, happy to find someone to talk to about a subject close to her heart. “I wouldn’t be sitting here if I hadn’t had the financial help, but the reality is that someone else probably lost their chance at being a dancer because it was given to me instead. I’ll never know who it was and whether they made it in the end, but I’ve always felt a bit guilty about it and it pushes me to be the best I can to prove to the people that made the decision to give it to me that they made the right choice.”

“Well, I don’t think anyone can say you’ve not made the most of it,” Virgil laughed, taking in the multiple production posters hanging on the walls, many featuring pictures of Cat, staring back at him.

“I hope not anyway,” Cat smiled, unable to hide the hint of pride in her tone. “It just seems a shame to me that training can’t be on merit alone. I know it costs a lot and that the schools need to make money to survive, but it’s not right that so many are excluded just because it’s beyond their families' means.”

“I’d agree with that,” Virgil nodded. “Is there not much help available from the government?”

“Not in this country anyway,” Cat shook her head sadly. “Places like Russia are different, but here there’s a definite lack of funding for the arts in general, not just ballet training, and I guess it’s not a very glamorous investment for private firms. For every Darcey Bussell or Margot Fonteyn, there are plenty who never make it through so it’s not something that’s going to give a guaranteed return.”

“Yeah, I can see why a lot of companies might not go for that,” Virgil mused, a germ of an idea starting to form in his head.

“Plus, having a scholarship puts a lot of pressure on kids,” Cat added as she watched Virgil closely, curious as to what he was thinking, having seen the same look on his brother when he was planning something. “It’s something I thrived on but not everyone does. But it’s a real shame for Lily if she’s not going to be able to pursue it. From what I’ve seen today, she’s got real talent and a good eye for detail, that’s almost as important.”

Before Virgil could reply, a loud chime from Cat’s phone interrupted them, announcing the arrival of Scott and Selene at the stage door. Hurrying out of the room to meet them, Virgil’s mind continued to turn over the information he’d been given, a more concrete plan beginning to coalesce.

#Virgil Tracy #Catriona George #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds 2015

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