#a teeny tiny white flower that's just about to bloom

[ookaookaooka]

i had a lot of free time today so i spent like three hours documenting as many plants as i could identify in the 300-foot long parking strip i use as a garden. the amount of biodiversity in such a small place is WILD

[katzkinder]

no thoughts just gear being overprotective over mahiru , mahi found it cute but gear just became a *tad bit* annoying ,,,

okay so like. Before I get Into this, I want to thank you for giving me an opportunity to finally talk about this au that i otherwise have No Idea how to broach from any angle, even if it’s only a teeny tiny small bitty portion of it

I call it Eve’s Anew cuz it’s a reincarnation au set 100 years after the last Eve has passed away, and Every Death is highly ironic for Reasons. Reasons being I like making my faves suffer.

And BASICALLY, in this AU, which I created with a friend in... Good lord has it already been 3 years? Way back in 2018, and one of the concepts we decided to go with was that Mahiru’s reincarnation, Fujishiro Mahiru (written with the characters for wisteria and white) was descended from werewolves! All because of his cute little prototype design looking like he had puppy ear hair www. Amazing how that coincidence worked out, right?

Anyway, your ask made me think of Gear trying to go ‘mine now’ after recognize his heritage and how silly and sweet that would be because twice, Ash? you found a werewolf’s descendant twice???

Kuro wishes he’d shut up but doesn’t dare breathe a word lmao. Meanwhile Mahiru, who grew up in an orphanage in this au, is just very concerned about this strange man who keeps yelling at the weird vampire cat man that rescued him from an attack in an alley.

Bonus time! Mahiru’s new family name was chosen with a few things in mind, chiefly, that we had planned for Kuro to bring him to Tsubaki after the attack and Mahiru would become an unofficial flower of Melancholy. The shiro (白) in his name also has an alternate spelling that means castle (城) and is used in Shirota.

As for using a wisteria flower as Mahiru’s personal flower rather than a sunflower like his motif flower is in canon...

“The wisteria meaning and symbolism speaks of love lost, but also of the ability for the heart to endure in spite of loss. How so? Because the drooping blooms are symbolic of sorrow in many cultures. However, its willingness to live regardless of sorrow is a testimony for hope. In other words, the weeping wisteria expresses sorrow, but it is also an incredibly durable vine, able to live (even flourish) through mistreatment and harsh conditions.“

I thought it was super fitting for a character like Mahiru, even as far back as three years ago ^^

Thank you so much for the ask! It felt really good to finally get the chance to talk about this~

[shyvioletcat]

ITT Drabble?

HERE IT IS! Last one on my 1200 follower Fluffy Prompt-a-thon. (Masterlist for that here)

This takes place just before Chapter 27 of It Takes Two. Masterlist for that if you needed a refresher.

~~~~~

Rowan stepped out onto the street after finishing his shift at the gym. Even though it was close to 7 o’clock the street was still busy. It was late night shopping and people were stepping in and out of shops along the street. Which was good, there were a few things Rowan needed to buy for Aelin’s baby shower and this was his last chance to get them before it on Saturday. He already had something for Aelin in the back seat of his truck, but he wanted to get a few things for the baby.

Yesterday on his way to work he had stopped at the shopping centre he had gone to with Aelin and went to one store in particular she had taken him to. He bought her the blue floral wrap dress she had tried on to demonstrate to him exactly what a wrap dress was. She had looked lovely in it and he could tell that she wanted to buy it, but hadn’t because of the price. So, wanting to get something for her and only her, Rowan had bought it. He desperately hoped it was the right size, because he had got it on sale with a no return or exchange policy on sale items the shop assistant had told him. He’d cross that bridge if it came to it but he had a feeling Aelin would be at least a little impressed that he had managed to get it at such a good price.

With Aelin’s gift done Rowan now needed something for the baby. A bit clueless, he had done a little bit of research on useful baby gifts. It didn’t take long for him to get overwhelmed, but he had a few ideas. He had fully intended to give what he bought to the twins so they would take to the shower. But Aelin had asked him to come, insisted that he come now that they had come to their new understanding. She had said she wanted him there. Something about that had made his heart beat a little faster. They were moving forward and Rowan was excited to see where it led.

He didn’t go to his car, instead he started walking up the street. There was a baby store a little way up that he had driven past and had been looking in the window as he went by. Rowan had seen something the other day, well he thought he had seen something at least. It only took him a few minutes to get there and he looked in the window. He had been right.

There in the window was a mobile, a single halo of flowers with animals and a few more flowers hanging from it on decorative strings. But they weren’t just any kind of flowers. The door opened and Rowan moved to hold it open for a pregnant woman and who he assumed was her mother. They thanked him as they passed and Rowan nodded and smiled in return before he went inside. This store was more of a boutique than anything else. It didn't stock a large range of things, but what they did looked like they were good quality. 

Rowan started to browse, looking at some of the toys and the tiny clothes. Towards the back of the store was some furniture – he could see cots and bassinets and rocking chairs – but he was making his way towards the window. The mobile was hanging there, the flowers small blooms of kingsflame, like the one that he had seen on Aelin’s dresser. They of course weren’t real but they looked as if they were the next best thing. The only thing that was putting him off were the elephants that hung from it. He didn’t think Aelin would particularly like the elephants, not that she would have anything against them but… Rowan had noticed what she decorated her room with and the little knickknacks she had around the house. He knew she liked deer, it had something to do with her family lineage. An old sigil of the Galathynius was a white stag and Aelin seemed to follow along with that imagery. But hopefully he could at least go along with something more woodland-ly.

“Can I help you?” 

Rowan turned to see the shop assistant behind him, smiling politely. 

“Yeah, actually,” he said and then pointed to the mobile. “By any chance does this come with other animals?”

“It does actually, it’s one of our customisable mobiles. I’ve got a book of the options at the front counter.” The shop assistant started walking towards the counter and Rowan followed. It didn’t take her long to find what she needed and soon Rowan held a large magazine in his hand. “When did you need it by?”

“Saturday actually,” Rowan said as he started to flick through the pages. 

The assistant sucked in a breath. “I don’t want to get your hopes up, but let me know which one you like and I’ll see what I can do. We don’t have all the options in stock at the moment but they can be ordered in.”

Rowan nodded and continued looking. There were horses and foxes, some weird looking dogs. He was hoping there would be deer but he didn’t see any. Maybe the foxes would have to do… But it turned out there was another option. He’d almost missed it because he was flipping the pages so fast in his frustration, but there on that almost missed page was the answer he was looking for. Rowan had always liked hawks, and birds of prey in general, so when he saw the little felt hawks in the book he had already decided.

“Do you have these?” Rowan pointed to the picture of the felt birds.

“Hmm,” the shop assistant said, her lip pursing thought. “We might. I’ll have a look out back for you.”

“I’ll just keep looking around,” Rowan said and the shop assistant nodded and left him to browse.

Rowan wandered around the store, curious about the products on offer. He stopped by a rack of clothes, flicking through the onesies. He pulled one off the rack and held it up. Dear gods, it was basically the length of his hand. Were babies really that small? Gripped by a mild sense of panic Rowan put the onesie back and kept looking. The next section he reached was the stuffed toys, an antique looking bookshelf crammed full of them. Peeking out between a rabbit and a teddy bear was the head of a little deer. Rowan couldn’t help but pick it up to look at it. Its brown coat was speckled with white, the hooves made of a velvety material and it had large fluffy ears. Rowan didn’t put it back down, deciding that Aelin would very much like it. 

“Good news!” Rowan heard the shop assistant call out and she was approaching where he stood. “We’ve got the hawks.”

“I’ll take them,” Rowan said without hesitation.

“I can put them on the mobile if you like?” She offered kindly.

“That would be great,” Rowan said with a polite smile.

“I’m assuming you’re shopping for a girl?” She asked Rowan nodded. “We’ve got some new dresses over there,” she nodded to her left. “Just if you were interested.”

The shop assistant headed for the front window where she pulled down the kingsflame mobile and took it over to the counter. Rowan went over to the clothes again with renewed interest and looked at the teeny tiny dresses. A blue one caught his eye, almost the exact same shade as the dress he’d bought Aelin as far as he could remember, just without the flower pattern on it. It came in a few sizes, and reading the tags he was a bit lost as to what they meant. He soon worked out the more zeros there were the smaller the item was. Still not really comprehending the exact size of babies he thought going with a 00 might be safest and hung the hanger over one of his fingers. 

By now he had pretty much looked in all the sections of the store except the furniture. Just before the furniture Rowan stopped at the display of bedding. Ignoring the sheets he looked at the muslin wraps, which there were piles of. From his very cursory searches he deducted that these were an essential item, with many uses apparently. He glanced through the stacks, seeing if any caught his eye. He paused on one that looked to have a floral pattern on it with some little critters too. Easing it from one of the stacks he saw that the critters were in fact little fawns. He added this to the growing pile in his arm. 

At the very back of the back of the store was the alcove with furniture set up. Rowan wandered through it, looking at them casually. The other day Aelin had been browsing baby things on her laptop and he’d caught a glimpse of the screen as she’d put it down on the couch as she got up. She had been looking up bassinets, and she had also sadly muttered something about baby things so expensive as she walked away. Aelin was adamant that she would wait until after the baby shower to start buying things just in case anything she needed was given as a gift. She was an efficient shopper and knew how to cut costs, it was probably why her bookstore did so well. 

Rowan started looking around intently, trying to remember what kind of bassinet she had been looking at on her computer. Maybe he could buy this for her so she didn’t have to fork out the money for it herself. It was an essential item so he could give it to Aelin as a gift for the baby shower, and besides that he wanted to. Gods, he’d been exercising so much self control to not buy everything that caught his eye. He was excited and he wasn’t ashamed to admit it.

Looking at the bassinets Rowan was getting a little overwhelmed. There were different styles and some looked like they had different features, but what they did exactly Rowan had no idea. He passed one that was suspended from the roof by a large hook. The longer he looked the sicker he felt. All that was holding it up a fair few feet from the ground was some rope and a hook. There was no way in Hellas’ realm was his baby being put in one of those.  Rowan turned away from the whole sight before he had a stress induced stroke just imaging the thing falling down with a baby inside it and went to look at the others. He saw one that looked similar to what Aelin had been looking at. It was a simpler design, a white bed and a timber base. This one looked much more secure with the base on the ground, and Rowan liked this one because it looked a bit taller than the others. Some of the others he had passed had barely brushed past the middle of his thigh. It would be a long way down if he was putting a baby in one of those.

He turned around and saw the shop assistant was at the counter. “Excuse me?”

She looked up and smiled and came over to him. “What can I help you with?”

“This bassinet here,” Rowan said, tapping the rim of the bed basket. “What can you tell me about it.”

“Well, this is one of the most popular designs on the market,” she explained. “First of all there’s no tools required for set up, you just attach the pieces together. Then looking at its features, it has six height positions, anti-reflex base positioning to help baby sleep if they’ve got reflux. This here,” the shop assistant pointed to the zipper, “folds down for easy and safe co-sleeping and it fits on just about any bed. Mesh ventilation is on all sides for added breathability. Just about everything is removable and machine washable, and the mattress is included.”

Rowan did not understand half of what this woman had just told him, but it all sounded good. Important, even. 

“Can I attach a mobile to it?” He asked.

The assistant nodded, “You’ll need to buy a mobile arm for it but yes, you can put a mobile on it.”

“Great,” Rowan said. He was decided. “I’ll take that too. Can I pay for it now and pick it up on Saturday? It’s… it’s a surprise.”

The shop assistant nodded enthusiastically then led the way to the register. “Absolutely. Did you want to leave anything else with it?” 

“I’ll take these things with me,” he nodded to what was in his arm. “But I’ll leave the mobile with the bassinet.”

“Perfect,” she said and entered some things into the computer at the register. Rowan put the items he was carrying on the counter and it only took her a few moments to scan those in too. “Would you like these gift-wrapped?”

“That would be great, thanks,” Rowan said. His wrapping techniques were atrocious. If he ever bought a gift for anyone he usually just took the receipt out of the bag and handed it over. 

The shop assistant got to work wrapping the dress, deer and muslin wrap, quick and efficient. Rowan was about to pay when he saw a book on the counter. 

What to expect when you're expecting

Rowan grabbed that too. “You don’t need to wrap that,” he added.

The book was for him. If he was going to be part of this and help Aelin through the rest of her pregnancy he would like to know what was going on. The more he knew the better prepared he would be for whatever was ahead of them. Because they were in this together. 

“Ready to go,” the shop assistant said and Rowan paid. She put the book and wrapped items in a bag and handed them to him. “Thank you so much.”

Rowan gave her a small smile and nod in return and left. He was almost to his truck when it dawned on him what he had just done. He had just bought Aelin  a bassinet for their baby. What if Aelin didn’t like it? What if there was another one she had been looking at that she wanted? What if he had just completely over stepped and this would upset her? This was a big thing to buy and maybe she wanted to be part of it...

Rowan rubbed at his face as he opened the driver’s door and got in his truck. If Aelin didn’t like it it would be easy to return. If he’d overstepped Rowan would apologise and hoped it went smoothly. But he hoped she liked it just as much as he did. He carefully put the bag on the passenger seat then pulled out his phone. There was a text from Aelin from about half an hour earlier letting him know she was going to bed and not to worry about dinner for her because she’d eaten some leftovers. Rowan didn’t reply in case he woke her up and was secretly glad she’d gone to bed. It meant he could get his purchases into the apartment without any prying questions. It took Rowan a few minutes but his thoughts settled and he was finally quietly confident with his purchases. He didn’t waste anymore time and put the keys in the ignition and drove home.

~~~~~

He’s so cute, right?

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[hamilsquadwritings]

The Flowers (Philip Hamilton Soulmate AU) ~ part 3 ~

A Soulmate AU in which flowers bloom from your left ring finger, coiling up and around your body, Identical to your soulmates. They stop growing when you meet and turn white when you get together

Soulmate AU in which flowers bloom from your left ring finger, coiling up and around your body, Identical to your soulmates. They stop growing when you meet and turn white when you get together Soulmate AU in which flowers bloom from your left ring finger, coiling up and around your body, Identical to your soulmates. They stop growing when you meet and turn white when you get together

(I decided to work on an old idea I had on my old blog @stargazelaurens and develop it properly)

Words - 2.2k

Warnings - Eacker being an asshole, a couple swears

Tag list {omg people want to be tagged?!<33}: @elizabethgrace459 @agelicl-y @popbubblegum @livylululivy @fanfic-addict-98 @xoxotashxoxo @laic2299 @multifandom-loser @loomingisabel

{{let me know if you wanna be added!!}}

Your flowers had stopped growing.

You couldn't be sure, but all of your flowers had six petals. All except the new one blooming, it wrapped its way around your pinky finger but only five petals were present. Uncertainty filled your mind. 5 petals. How long had they been there? Was it possible that it was working on a vine or a leaf, only to come back to the last petal, if there was to be a final petal.

It had been 2 days since you’d spent the night with your sister, Theodosia and Philip. Spending time with them was a solace and you were more then eager to be away from the monster that was unfortunately still your fiance. You spent a full day with them on a picnic yesterday. Sure it was a bit awkward to start with but at least you werent the only third wheel anymore, you had someone to keep you company while Theo and your sister occupied each other

---

"theyre pretty cute huh.." philip says softly. He was leaning against a tree while you sat across from him working on a drawing. He looks over across the meadow to watch your sister and Theodosia pick wild flowers to weave into each other's hair.

"they’re so perfect for eachother" you say looking up from your drawing over at them your eyes meeting his in understanding

"I wish I could meet my soulmate..." Philip sighed softly. He hadn't stayed up to date with his flowers. He'd been obsessed at one point, his eyes glued to his arm. He’d trace them with a pen, growing disappointed when a new vine or leaf would emerge from under the ink. He rarely glanced at them now to avoid the disappointment. Philip knew the chances of meeting your soulmate was slim but he couldn't help but hope, desperate as hope may have seemed. It didn’t help that he was engaged to someone who had already met her soulmate.

"me too.." you say as you take a second to glance down at your own markings. You looked to your newest flower tracing the familiar pattern with your fingertip counting the petals, sighing softly, still only five petals.

"Is everthing okay?" philip asks curiously

"uh.." you say quietly briefly looking at him and then back to your flowers "I think maybe my flowers might have stopped growing.. Im not entirely sure but I think they might have..?" You trail off meeting his eyes as you lean back.

"Do you know who it could be if they have?" Philip asks as he looks over, he catches a brief glance at your wrist, his breath catching in his throat, the flowers weaving their way around your hand looked so familiar- no no he shook his head. How could he could he even entertain the thought, there was no way...

"no..." you say with a soft sigh, even on the small chance that you had met your soul mate, the options weren't looking good. On one hand you had George; you would rather live without a soulmate than live with him. On the other hand the only other new person you had spent time with in the last few months was Philip. The universe would never be that kind to you, besides there was that teeny tiny problem. He waa engaged to your sister.

---

Philip had spoken to his mother the day after you told them what had happened with George. She, as expected, was completely horrified. She listened as Philip explained what you had told him and your sister and how it made him feel. He didn't need to embellish anything, he would never admit it but he cared about you, more than in just a sister in law way. He couldn't do anything about it of course, because you were engaged and so was he. But with your sister and Theo being confirmed soul mates he knew he would never be number one for her. Philip was honest with himself, and sadly felt a bit cheated. He'd always grown up with his parents' example, they may not have been soulmates but they did truly love each other. He thought he would have that when he grew up. Well, he had hoped anyway. But the world seemed to have a very different plan. The conversation you'd had with him the day after the picnic only made his feelings and thoughts more confusing. 

You were sitting in your room with your sister, Theodosia, Philip and Angelica when the Eackers arrived. The shouting was heard by all through three closed doors and a flight of stairs. Philip filled you and your sister in on what had happened the day before. His mother had interrupted Alexander at work to tell him he had to do something. He'd listened as his wife relayed everything Philip said to her that afternoon. Allowing her own suspicions of how their son felt about you to be heard as well. He  agreed to call off the engagement. Not only could Alexander see how much it meant to his son, but if a family was willing to pretty much give their youngest daughter away to be a prisoner locked in a room. It wasn't a family he wanted his son to marry into.

He'd met with your parents the next afternoon, they were equally horrified. Your mother was beside herself, your father however was embarrassed at hearing about it from an outsider instead of you. When he’d called you into the office to explain, your sister had spoken for you. She hadn't realised Philip would be talking to his parents so quickly. She herself had planned to bring it up that afternoon. Then the yelling had started. Your father at you. Your sister and mother at your father. 

Mrs. Hamilton had quickly intervened, telling Philip to take you, Theo, your sister and his upstairs. They would be the ones to handle things for now. Your father had sent a message for the Eackers, requesting their urgent presence. Alexander and Eliza had just taken their leave before the Eacker’s arrival.

The Eackers were in your fathers office with your parents for over an hour before you heard anything. A stark change to when the Hamilton’s were in there, it was so silent you could hear a pin drop.

"Y/N!" Your father calls. You look at your sister quickly, unsure what to expect. She stands at the top of the stairs with Angie, Theo and Philip as you make your way down. George was waiting at the bottom of the stairs with your father. His parents were already waiting outside in the carriage.

"Darling” George says with false endearment. “Your father has told us the most disturbing things. I'm not sure how you’ve become mistaken.. I am so sorry that you thought we’d ever.. well that we’d ever mistreat you in any way, I could never.." he says holding out a hand for you, taking yours when you stare into his open palm, he uses it to pull you flush against his, his other holding you close “you have to know that. I would never dream of treating my bride to be with such hate.” His voice was thick with sadness and regret. You were a bit impressed by  his acting abilities, though they were merely an extension of his twisted nature and despicable lies. You were even more repulsed that he could even put on such an act after the way he had planned to treat you. 

"Well now that all that has been sorted.. until next time Mr Eacker" your father says dismissively as he breezes past you both without a glance in your direction retreating back into his office. You looked around for your mother, she had already left to the garden, leaving you alone with George.

"Wait.. were still getting married?" You ask in confusion, your eyebrows furrowing across your forehead. You could feel your skin growing cold. The realization of your near future playing vicious images in your mind, this couldn’t be happening.

"Well of course we are sweetheart.." George saying taking your arm, squeezing just hard enough that it was uncomfortable. He watches your fathers office door shut as he leans in "listen, closely, I wont say this twice.. if you ever pull a stunt like this again.." his voice was rough and cold, dripping with the thrill of threatening you. 

You look up the stairs meeting the curious and worried eyes of your sister, best friend and the Hamiltons. George pulls you out of their view. You barely heard his harsh words, they didn't make any impact, you couldn't believe it. Not only had George managed to weasel his way around your father, but now your father was angry with you for telling the Hamiltons before you told him. According to him therewas nothing wrong and you had made a fuss only to embarrass him in front of the Hamiltons and the Eackers. That couldn't be further from the truth, although you knew he would never see it that way, if he wouldn’t listen to Mr and Mrs Hamilton what hope did you have?

You were pulled from your thoughts as George kissed your cheek, it took everything in you not to flinch "I'd spend as much time as you can with them. That room of yours is going to be terribly lonely.." he whispers lowly looking from you up to the stairs where your friends were waiting. George smiled widely and waved, leaving your wrist with a handprint, that brought a red color to your flowers, before he headed to the door to leave with his parents. As soon as they were out of view, you dashed up the stairs to join your best friend, sister, her fiancé and his sister. 

"What happened??" Theo asks asks as your sister hugs you tightly. 

"Nothing... he lied and- “ You had to pause trying to control the fear your voice was sure to give away. “were still getting married" you say quietly as you hold onto her. Theo wrapped her arms around you both, holding you close. She couldn't believe it. Much like your sister, she'd offered to go and sort George out herself when your sister filled her in on what had been happening. Theodosia was a big believer in soulmates, the day she found your sister was the happiest day of her life. She felt that everyone deserved to experience the once in a lifetime happiness. Though she understood why some people didn't marry for love, she'd always found it cold how people married their children off. Even when it worked out. It was unfathomable to her that George and his family would treat you like that, and to actively plan it before you got married was beyond horrific. 

"How- what-" Angie says looking over to Philip quickly. He stood with his hand clenched tightly around the banister watching the carriage retreat down the drive. His jaw was set and tight with tension, his eyes full of anger. He really thought this was going to work. When you'd told him and (S/N) what happened he thought your father would listen to his and sort it out. He was horrified to learn not only was George getting away with it but just as your sister had predicted, it didn't seem like your father cared. At least not enough to put a stop to it, unlike his own parents. 

When Eliza had told Alexander he'd been furious, admittedly not just at the situation but for his own reputation (which was a problem in itself but not the one Philip wanted to focus on right now). If word got out that his daughter in law was being kept prisoner in such awful conditions the fall back on him, as a politician tasked with shaping the future, would be astronomical. And make no mistake, it would get out, Philip and (S/N) would make sure of it. 

(S/N) was pissed, there was no point in talking to your parents now. As far as they were concerned everything was resolved, it was just teenage meddling, despite the fact Philip’s parents has been involved. Your parents, especially your father, wouldn't hear anything more on the subject. In fact he was likely to raise his temper if she even thought of bringing up the subject. She glanced at Philip before she and Theodosia lead you to your room. She could tell he felt bad about talking to his parents straightaway. He should've listened to her and let her approach your parents first, it was a little late for that however.. she thought settling you into your bed tucking the small blanket around you comfortingly. 

"Thats it... there's nothing to be done. I have to marry him.." you say slowly, your voice full of defeat.  Your shoulders slumped as your sad eyes look to your sister and your best friend, taking their hands in each of yours "I'm going to spend every second with you guys.” You said finding a new determination “The next time I see him will not be a second before I have to"

[thechildoflightning]

Forecast

Title: Forecast

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Pairings: Remile

Word Count: 3217

~~~

Summary: 

An average fall morning with Remile, ft. depression fog, broke college students buying expensive coffee, teeny tiny pumpkins, emotional distress, and succulents (not in that order). 

For the lovely @illogicallyinclined’s hockey au.

Warnings: Depression, Seasonal Affective Disorder

[ao3 link]

~~~

Forecast

Remy had mixed feelings about October and the approaching holidays and seasons. 

On one hand- October meant Halloween which meant seasonal drinks like Pumpkin Spice. It also meant that decorations went up and he and Emile would get a bunch of those ittie bittie pumpkins to put literally everywhere in their apartment. Emile would light his candles and the apartment would smell like falling leaves, and apples, and pumpkin pie. He loved it. 

On the other hand- October brought the beginnings of Remy’s seasonal affective disorder- which he had just nicknamed “The Big Sad.” Seasonal depression adding onto his regular depression was just another weight on his back, until it became an almost struggle to just be at a decent mood level. He hated it

This year had hit him hard.

He wasn’t even sure why.

So here he was, lying on the bed he shared with Emile, blinking up at the ceiling and trying to convince himself to just… get up.

He could. He knew he could. 

It was always the mornings too. The mornings were a bit harder than everything else because now he had the whole day looming ahead of him and it just seemed so long and forbidding.

Over the years, Remy had counteracted this with a routine. If mornings were always going to be hard for him, might as well give him something to get up for, right? So he had collected succulents over the past few years, slowly decorating the apartment. He’d check them all every morning, fingers gliding over their leaves carefully to take note of growth, decay, light damage, shade damage, soil dryness, and much more.

Had he really expected to learn this much about succulents? No. But he had. And he loved it. 

Most importantly, it gave him a reason to get up.

He would then make himself breakfast, and Emile some too if he was around, before heading to classes, work, practice, or whatever he had that day.

The routine kept him moving, kept him active, kept him from not sitting in bed all day long. 

These days, it generally wasn’t even a struggle. But he woke up on the third day of October with a weight in his bones and the faint smell of ginger and cinnamon in the air.

His alarm had gone off twice now. The second one was his safety. His “okay, you’re having a rough day, here’s a few extra minutes, but then you need to get up alarm.” 

He hadn’t gotten up.

Nope. Instead, he was blinking lazily up at the ceiling, tears pricking at the corner of his eyes and a heavy weight settled across his chest. Fuck depression. Fuck SAD.

This was, of course, when the door opened.

“Remy!” his roommate? friend? boyfriend? partner’s voice cheered as he entered the apartment, “Guess what! The cafeteria put up little pumpkins today and I remembered we hadn’t gone out and gotten any yet and we don’t have weights or Zumba today, and you don’t work until later so we totally have time to-”

Emile cut himself off as he realized that the kitchen area (that was more than a kitchenette but less than an actual kitchen) did not actually contain the person he was attempting to rant to.

Remy would give him to the count of three. 

Sure enough, right as Remy ticked the final number off in his head, the door to their room (which had technically started as Remy’s but was now really both of theirs) was pushed open by Emile.

“Rem?” the voice called.

He couldn't quite make his vocal cords work, but he could shift slightly under the bed covers.

Seconds later the light in the room was flickering on and Emile’s warm gaze met Remy’s cold one.

“Oh,” Emile said, taking in the situation, “Hi.”

“Hi,” Remy replied meekly.

Emile sighed at the reply. But it wasn’t one of those sighs of frustration or annoyance. It was one of those small sighs that was just a breath of air. A reassurance. Emile always sighed like that. Remy thought it was maybe a stupid thing to love, but he loved it nonetheless.

Emile walked forward and settled on the edge of the bed, extending an arm with the palm face up. 

A knot grew in Remy’s throat, even as he extended his own hand to grasp Emile’s.

“You’re usually up by now,” Emile offered.

“I know,” he said.

“What are you at?”

Remy sighed. This sigh wasn’t like Emile’s nor was it one of frustration. No, it was a sigh representative of the crushing weight of everything in the world building up and accumulating, dragging Remy down with it.

“Big SAD’s at like a six or seven? It’s, it’s not so bad. Just used to it being a lot better now. This year hit hard,” Remy confided.

Emile nodded and rubbed his thumb soothingly against the back of Remy’s hand.

“I need to get up,” Remy said.

“You usually check on your plants,” Emile said. It was his way of agreeing, his way of encouraging and supporting Remy on days like this without providing pressure. Holding his hand and grounding him, reminding him he wasn’t alone. Talking about his plants and their needs, reminding him he had a routine. That getting up seemed impossible, but it wasn’t.

Remy groaned loudly before dropping Emile’s hand and rolling to the side of the bed. He let his weight carry himself over the edge, caught him just before he fell, and stood.

He made it out of bed. That was something.

(Emile’s soft laughter at his behavior was also quite the reward).

As Emile continued to giggle, the faint outline of a smile graced Remy’s face. He rushed forward and lifted Emile up, twirling him once before setting him down and giving his hair a soft kiss. He released Emile, and then started for the day.

“Plants first,” Remy said, “Then breakfast. Sound good?”

“I can help with breakfast,” Emile offered.

“No,” Remy insisted immediately, “No I always make breakfast, it’s okay.”

Emile shrugged, but relented without further argument.

Remy moved to the windowsill that contained his plants, and began to check the first one’s leaves. Emile stood right next to him, not quite in his way, but close to it.

“Maybe I should get some plants. Maybe some flowers that can grow indoors.”

“Em, honey, you don’t have the time.”

Em pouted, sweater paws folding over his chest, but didn’t protest Remy’s claim. Remy laughed at the sight and moved to the next plant.

The fog of depression still settled in his brain, but now that he was up and talking and moving, it seemed to be lifting a bit more. It was settling back to be manageable once more, instead of overwhelming. He could deal with that.

“Remy! This one has flowers!” Emile suddenly exclaimed, from further down the windowsill, which considering the windowsills length, was just a few more inches down.

Remy pulled his attention away from the current succulent he was inspecting, and directed it towards the plant Emile had been pointing out.

Sure enough, just in between two thick green nubs, a long green stem with tiny blooming white flowers appeared. Remy smiled at the sight and Emile tucked into his side.

“It’s pretty,” Emile claimed.

“Mmhmm, yeah,” Remy agreed, hooking his head over Emile’s own, and holding him there for a minute. He wasn’t really quite tall enough to do such, so he had to stand on his tiptoes and raise his chin a bit, but it was so worth it.

They stood there together a bit, peering at the little white flowers, before moving onward with their day.

~

During breakfast, Emile re-explained what he had started to that morning when he had first entered the apartment. 

He told Remy about how the main dining hall now had the tiny baby pumpkins up in it and how they absolutely had to get some for the apartment themselves. He was practically begging, coming up with a billion and one reasons that they should get them, as if Remy didn’t love them just as much.

After breakfast, they cleaned up, and Remy showered and dressed, before heading out to get said pumpkins. Emile had been right, it was hard to find substantial time when they were both free to do things together, and Thursday mornings happened to be one of the few times. They still didn’t have a lot of time, but it was something.

They were walking in the direction of the grocery story when Emile came to a complete halt. Remy blinked and tried to figure out what had happened.

Just a minute ago Emile had been talking about one of his classes. Remy had been trying to listen, really he had, but the fog in his brain had started to pick up again, making each step a little bit harder and listening to even mindless chatter almost impossible

It also meant that if Emile had given any warning or explanation for stopping, Remy had completely missed it.

“Emile?” he asked.

“Let’s get coffee,” he said, gesturing to the Starbucks in front of them.

Okay, that wasn’t fair. Emile knew he was going to say yes.

“Coffee’s expensive,” he mentioned. They were broke college students which was why it was completely unfair of Emile to say they were getting coffee because of course Remy was going to say yes but they couldn’t keep buying the stuff if they wanted to have food for meals and tiny pumpkins.

“Yeah, but I know you love the seasonal drinks. My treat,” was Emile’s response.

“Emile, I’m literally the one with the discount.”

And the one with the father that was more than willing to fund Remy’s coffee addiction three times over but he was trying to adult himself with minimal support from parents. Minimal support meaning yes please pay for my education and part of rent that is very appreciated but also I should probably learn how to feed and clothe myself I’ll let you know if I’m failing at that and then you can swoop in and save me.

“Okay. Then your discount, my money. Mostly my treat.”

Emile’s defense was weak at best but it didn’t really take much to convince Remy in the first place. Plus, he had that blinding smile on his face that just made Remy melt.

“Okay,” he agreed, “Okay. Coffee. But we can’t make it a habit.”

Emile shrugged, nodded, and pulled him towards the door.

“We won’t,” he promised, “Just today. Special occasion.”

Remy grinned lightly. Emile was always saying stuff like that, calling mundane things special or important. Remy pretended to hate it, but somehow, whenever Emile did it, it really did make whatever event just a little bit magical.

“And what, pray tell, is so special,” he drawled, dropping his arm onto Emile’s shoulder.

Emile shrugged and moved forward to get in line, Remy trailing afterwards, leaning his weight against him just to piss him off. (It didn’t seem to be working as Emile just sorta snuggled into his side and, great, now he was blushing).

“It’s special because…” Emile trailed, before his eyes lit up like gems, “Because you got out of bed this morning!”

A lump grew in Remy’s throat and he had the urge to take his arm off of Emile’s shoulder. The blush that had spread across his cheeks faded.

“I did,” he said, aiming for casual, “Y’know, it’s pretty simple. You just yank off the covers and hop out. Or fall off in this morning's case.”

Emile gave him a look.

“Yeah. It is simple. Doesn’t mean it's easy,” Emile said, with that wisdom he seemed to always carry and spew out. Damn emotional intelligence.

Remy did drop his arm this time, pulling it away from Emile.

Emile frowned and opened his mouth, but didn’t get the opportunity to say anything more as they made it to the front of the line. 

Remy moved forward quickly and ordered for himself. When he was done, he went to order for Emile like he always did, but stopped when he realized that Emile hadn’t actually told him what he wanted this time.

See, Remy always ordered for Emile. Emile’s anxiety made it harder for him to talk to strangers, especially when it involved ordering or asking for something. It was certainly something Emile was capable of doing, and something he sometimes insisted on doing just so that he knew he still could, but it was also something he generally preferred not to do. Remy had no such issues and so Emile would tell him what he wanted and Remy would order for them both.

But Emile hadn't gotten the chance to tell him what he wanted. Remy could guess, but he hated to do that when Emile was right here and could choose what he wanted himself. He hated to assume, even if he was usually pretty spot on. Knowing Emile for such a long time made it pretty easy at this point.

The worker was looking at them now, as Remy’s pause went on for a touch too long.

“Emile?” Remy asked.

“Oh, uh,” the other boy stuttered, before rattling his own order off.

They didn’t really speak until they had left the shop and continued on their way to the grocery store.

“Earlier,” Emile started, “I know you can get out of bed. I wasn’t trying to- I dunno- mock you or something. I just know that it can be hard for you- that it was hard this morning. I-” he shrugged, “I’m not proud of you because that’s just-” he wrinkled his nose up, “That’s not something for me to be proud of, but you… You should be proud of yourself.”

Remy sighed and reached out to clutch Emile’s hand.

“I know,” he agreed, “It’s just that…” he sighed, and the fog in his brain continued to swirl around, “Thank you,” he said instead and worked on trying to maybe take Emile’s words to heart. The swirling didn’t seem to like it, but it could fuck off because he was going to buy little mini pumpkins with his- his Emile and it was going to be great.

Emile squeezed his hand.

“Pumpkins?” Remy offered, and Emile just smiled and nodded in return.

~

They didn’t have the time to decorate their apartment with all the little pumpkins they bought because they were starting to run late for morning skate. So they left the clump on the small table in the main room before getting ready and heading towards practice.

As they did so, a little foreign weight dropped in Remy’s stomach. It wasn’t like the fog. It was more like dread. It was starting to become a familiar feeling whenever practice and games approached. Remy absolutely hated it. Plus, morning skate wasn’t even really practice, it was just to get them moving so why the hell did Remy feel this way?

He enjoyed hockey. He did. He really really did.

(Just maybe not lately).

But he ignored the feeling, as well as the concerned look from Emile and headed out the door. They had morning skate to attend.

~

It wasn’t until late evening that they were both home at the same time.

The moment Remy walked through the doors he wrestled Emile away from his studying because come on Em, you can take ten minutes to decorate the apartment. Emile relented, standing to give a soft kiss on Remy’s jaw, and moved towards the pumpkins from earlier. Remy absolutely did not blush whatsoever and followed.

“Remy,” Emile commented once they were finishing up, “Are you- Are you doing alright lately?”

The fog buzzed louder.

Remy let out a weak chuckle.

“I’m always doing alright,” he said.

Emile just gave him a look.

“No really,” Remy insisted, even as a lump formed in his throat, “I’m- I mean. I’m okay. Uh- this morning was hard. Today wasn’t- wasn’t the best. I can tell this year isn’t going to be the best. But yeah, yeah Em I’m okay. I promise.”

Emile’s worry dropped a bit but didn’t fade completely.

“Okay,” he said, “I- You’ve just seemed more stressed lately. Uh- with Logan-” Emile swallowed and Remy squeezed his eyes tight for a second, “With Logan… out. I mean, it’s a lot more on you.”

“I’ve been Starter before,” Remy said gently.

“Yeah. I know.”

Because Remy had been Starter before. But not- not like this. Never like this before. And they both knew it.

“It is more,” Remy admitted, “But it’s fine. I’m fine.”

“Okay,” Emile said, and let it rest.

What Remy didn’t say was that it wasn’t the extra games, extra playtime that was getting to him. 

It was the team’s faces. 

It was how they went into games expecting to lose and Roman and Patton couldn’t agree on a single thing and Remus was getting reckless again and even Deceit was joining him and Virgil just seemed off and the fans hated that Remy was taking Logan’s place because it was Logan’s place and sure Remy was good but he wasn’t Logan good and they all knew it and it wasn’t even a bad thing but it did mean that even playing his best Remy knew he was letting his team down, letting Logan down, letting himself down. 

But it wasn’t the playtime. 

Oh no, it was so much more than just the playtime.

The fog expanded, pushing down and back on Remy’s brain, encoating him in a layer of discontentment  and hopelessness and misery.

Remy sighed. He set the last pumpkin down.

“I think I’m gonna head to bed,” he said.

Emile nodded. He usually checked the clock when Remy announced he was retiring for the night, making sure that it hadn’t gotten too late yet. But he didn’t bother this time. They both knew it was still much too early for either of them to be sleeping.

“Okay,” Emile said, and smiled, but it didn't quite stretch across his face like it usually did, “I have work to do still, but I’ll join you in awhile.”

“Okay,” Remy agreed.

And they both stood there staring at each other.

Then, suddenly, Emile lurched forward and grasped Remy tightly, clutching the taller boy in a tight hug. Startled, but not about to deny the hug, Remy gripped back, just as tight.

He didn’t start to cry, but it was close.

“Love you,” Emile said.

“Love you too,” Remy responded, voice muffled from where his head was buried in Emile’s neck and trying not to cry.

With that, he headed off to bed.

Later, Emile would slip in next to him, acting in a rare occasion as the big spoon. That next morning would be a little bit easier and three mornings after that would be a little bit harder. Remy would continue to get out of bed.

Hockey would continue and Logan wouldn’t return and tensions on the team would get worse. Through all of it, Remy would be caught in the absolute worse position as Logan’s replacement.

But for now, Remy would go to bed early, fog pressing down, harsh and unforgiving, but still much softer than the upcoming storm. Because that’s really all this was, wasn’t it? The calm before the storm.

~~~

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[seriouslyhooked]

I Luv You (A CS HS AU)

Reader prompted CS High School AU oneshot where Emma and Killian are friends but Emma wants more. There’s miscommunication (Emma thinks he loves someone else), but ultimately a cute and fluffy ending. Available on FF here and AO3 here. 

A/N: Hey all! I have had quite a few of you ask for more high school AUs for Emma and Killian, and my muse rarely trends in that direction. But, after many many months of trying to find a story that worked, I stumbled across this song, ‘I Luv You’ by Sofia Carson and R3MIX. One of the lyrics has been stuck in my head on repeat, and I’ve thought of how wonderful it would be to incorporate into a CS drabble. As such, this story centers around Emma and Killian meeting in their senior year of high school. Killian is new to their school, having moved from the UK, but they’ve instantly clicked and prom season is coming up. Emma wants to go with Killian, but she’s aware that he might not be over someone else from his past, then, because I’m addicted to fluff, it all turns out to be a great big misunderstanding. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy and thanks so much for reading!

Everything’s going to be fine. I can handle this. I can get over him. Maybe? Someday? Oh God.

Closing her eyes and taking a steadying breath, Emma shook away the anxious thoughts that had clung to her for weeks. She didn’t want to linger in them, but she couldn’t let them go. Everywhere she went they followed, and there seemed to be no reprieve. As a result, she was a stressed-out mess, and her ability to hide her feelings was growing weaker and weaker by the minute.

“I don’t know why you’re so worried about this, Ems,” her friend Ruby said casually from where she was perched on Emma’s kitchen countertop, eating directly out of a tub of Ben & Jerry’s chunky monkey.

Ruby’s legs dangled as she swiped the last of the ice cream from her spoon greedily. She’d downed a full carton just this afternoon, the calories and sugar rush a non-issue. Emma knew if she tried that her mother would probably have a fit, but Ruby could get away with anything in the Nolan house. Emma’s parents had adored her since Emma and Ruby’s first day of kindergarten all those years ago when Ruby announced to the class that Emma was her ‘bestest friend’ and anyone who messed with her was ‘gonna know her wrath.’ At age five Emma had no idea what that meant, but to this day her Mom and Dad adored Ruby. She was loyal and courageous, and she’d lived up to her promise, proving to be the best friend Emma could ask for.

“I’m not worried,” Emma replied, but the declaration was hollow and lacked conviction.

“You’re gonna need to work on your acting, girl,” Ruby said with a sigh and a sad headshake, as if Emma’s attempt at seeming okay was just pitiable. “But seriously, all this stressing is for nothing. Killian is totally going to ask you to prom. He’s gonna swoop in with everything but a white horse, tell you he loves you, and steal your heart.”

“Ruby,” Emma whispered, chastising her friend but without much conviction. She wanted to reprimand Ruby for her fanciful ideas, but she couldn’t form more words in the face of someone stating exactly what she dreamed of.

“And honestly, it’s about time. You’ve been dancing around each other for ages. I mean I love a good slow burn, but this is just ridiculous.”

It certainly felt like Ruby was right, but Emma knew better than to believe that. No matter how many butterflies might take flight within her every time she saw him, or how many times her thoughts drifted to the handsome boy who’d become one of her closest friends, Emma knew that the feelings in her heart were one sided. Killian was in love with someone else, a girl back where he was from who he’d known before moving here. She still had his heart, and so Emma never could. She only wished that everyone else understood, maybe then they’d stop always talking like the two of them being together was a given.

“You’re one to talk. Dee, asked you to prom literally months ago, before prom was even announced.”

“Of course she did. She’s my girlfriend. Plus, she wanted to lock me down. I’m a hot commodity, as you well know.”

Emma rolled her eyes at Ruby’s antics. Her best friend loved to talk a big game, but since meeting her girlfriend, Dorothy, last year she’d been nothing but the picture of fidelity. She was smitten as could be and very much in love, but Ruby was determined to be considered a ‘wild child’ and Dorothy, or Dee, as everyone called her, was only happy to oblige.

“Okay well new rule, happily coupled off ‘besties’ don’t get to tell the single one not to worry.”

“Ugh, fine. But only because I love you and you used the word ‘besties’ with only limited sarcasm. I’m totally wearing you down.”

Emma bit back a smile and shook her head, but she was grateful for the out Ruby provided her. It wasn’t her friend’s natural instinct to walk back her opinion, and it showed Emma how much their friendship mattered to Ruby that she’d even try to do so.

“Also, I may or may not have agreed to be part of a conspiracy meant to distract you and then guide you to an important event that I cannot actually tell you about because I swore myself to secrecy.”

“Come again?” Emma asked, totally confused even as her pulse began to beat in faster time. Secret plot? What the heck was that? And why did she feel like it involved a certain hot, charismatic, and irresistible boy she could never stop thinking about?

“Wish I could explain, but that’s the whole thing about swearing yourself to secrecy, you kind of have to mean it. Mums the word, or whatever people say.”

“Ruby, what did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything except for making one teeny tiny little promise.”

“And that promise was…?”

“To make sure you stayed right here until…” she glanced at the time on the stove and smiled, “Now. All right, two minutes from now, but still. You get the drift.”

“Ruby, I don’t understand.”

“Emma,” Ruby said taking Emma’s hand and squeezing it gently, “You know I would never steer you wrong, right? I can’t get into it, but let’s just say there’s a reason I’ve been promising you that everything for prom would work out.”

Emma took Ruby’s words in and did the simple math: Ruby had been telling her not to worry about Killian asking because she knew he was planning to. He had told Ruby somehow, convincing her to help him with this surprise, and Ruby had agreed. It made Emma’s heart thump loudly in her chest over and over again, but then dread crept in. He was going to ask her to prom, but it was going to be a friend asking a friend. Somehow that was worse than not being asked at all. It would mean being so close to what she wanted, but still so painfully far away.

“Killian,” Emma whispered, her lips not daring to utter more than his name as the nerves took over.

“Yes, Killian,” Ruby said with a gleam in her eye, hopping off the table and straightening out Emma’s hair and her outfit like a personal stylist with a critical eye. “Don’t worry, you look totally kick ass, and so my work here is done. He’ll be here any minute, and I think it’s best if I get out of here before he does. Wouldn’t want to stifle any moments with my ever-present wit.”

Emma stood there in shock, watching her friend grab her bag and sashay out of the kitchen. Emma heard her retreating footsteps and barely managed to all out “Wait, Ruby!” before the front door closed. Ruby was gone, having departed the scene in a haste on par with that cartoon roadrunner she used to watch as a kid.

For a moment Emma warred with herself about what to do. She wanted desperately to wait here and to let him ask her. Maybe it would be more than a friend asking a friend. Maybe something had happened with the girl back home. Maybe he was free, free to love her, to choose her, to want her back… but then again maybe her greatest worries were exactly right. Maybe the nagging voice in the back of her mind that said something so perfect could never work out was correct. Either way she panicked, choosing self-preservation over facing what may come.

Leaving everything behind, Emma snuck out the sliding back door, breaking out in a run from the porch and heading into the thick grove of trees behind her home. There was a well-worn walking path that headed deep into the woods, and Emma knew it well, well enough to veer off of it and find her way to the one place she could imagine any kind of comfort at a time like this – the meadow.

Not far from her house there was a private glen that ran along the river, out of the way of any foot traffic that may come through the bramble of these woods. Emma had found it as a child, and for some reason no one ever seemed able to find her there. She could get lost for hours in that grove, enjoying the sun and the flowers and the sound of running water coursing by. It was close to home, but felt lightyears away and in that glen she could be anything and anyone. Her imagination was free there and her cares were far away. It was her special place, the one she never shared, the one she kept so close to her heart it felt like only hers. But then, on a whim, she’d brought Killian there, and though it was scary to do that, he’d reacted in the perfect way.

“It’s otherworldly, Emma. I can understand your love for this spot. I can think of no better place that I’ve ever been before.”  

Emma held back tears as she approached this little oasis, knowing that it wouldn’t hold the answers that she wanted. Instead it would likely just remind her of Killian, and all that she wanted but that they just couldn’t have.

The closer she got, however, the more Emma realized that something was different. It was early spring, but she saw bright colors from afar. They were similar to the wildflowers that bloomed in May and June, but it was too early for them. Only when she got closer did she realize what was happening. The flowers here were real but were not wild. They were an assortment of every kind of blossom she’d ever loved and they had been placed by someone, filling the space in an attempt to recreate the most magical moments this meadow had to bring.

It dawned on her that no one would know to do this but Killian, and as she got closer Emma felt the tears brought on by his sweetness. By the time she was at the meadow’s edge, tears were streaming down her face, and she didn’t bother wiping them away as her hand came over her mouth.

There must be thousands of flowers here, and Emma had no idea how he could have possibly done this. Where would he even find so many flowers? And how could he have time? It would have taken him all day to do this, and so much longer to think of it. This was so much effort to go through for a friend, it almost made her think that she had to be wrong. He must feel the same. He must –

“I had pictured this going a little differently,” a voice said and Emma whipped around to see Killian, looking at her with a warm smile. He was genuinely glad to see her, but the bashfulness on his face was unmistakable and it made him look even more handsome. That earnest feeling mixed with seeing him dressed up, well it drove her a little wild, but she didn’t dare to move, waiting for him to approach her instead. “But I should have known you’d find your own way. You always do.”

“Why?” Emma asked, and Killian’s brow furrowed before she elaborated. “Why did you do all of this?”

“Because you deserve nothing less,” he countered, taking her hand though his blue eyes stayed locked on hers. “I did this because I’ve been wanting to ask you something for a very long time. I’ve gone back and forth about when and how. I wanted it to be right, but I couldn’t decide how. It’s just – well it’s complicated. Us being friends, it’s amazing and I’ve never had someone in my world like you, and I was afraid I’d muck it up, so I…”

He trailed off, his hand scratching behind his ear in a show of embarrassment and Emma swallowed down the hurt as best she could. She had been right. This was a prom proposal based in friendship, nothing more. He didn’t feel the same. He didn’t want her. He was just kind and good and perfect and he wanted to give her a lovely memory even if he couldn’t give her his love.

“Emma Nolan, will you -,”

Before he could get the words out Emma interrupted him, afraid that if he asked she’d break down in front of him and give herself away. This was a nightmare right now and she couldn’t bear it. “Killian… I’m sorry, I can’t.”

Before he could respond, she sprinted back towards the house, tears falling as she raced through the backwoods. Through the haze of her adrenaline, she heard him call her name, and then she felt his hand on her arm, halting her, holding her steady.

“Emma, love, I don’t understand. Have I done something? Is there…” his voice grew fraught and tense. “Is there someone else?”

“Of course there is!” she exclaimed, “But not for me. For you!”

“I don’t understand,” he replied, looking genuinely perplexed.

“Of course you don’t,” she said, a sad laugh emanating from her as she waved her hands in dismay. “I love you, Killian.”

“I love you too,” he replied immediately, and she shook her head.

“No, not as a friend. I love you. Like for real.”

“Emma, I feel the same way about you. I’ve been trying to tell you forever, but every time I tried you shut me down.”

“I had to,” she cried out. “Because you’re not over her.”

“Over who?”

“Merida.”

“Who?” he asked, sounding completely unaware of the name of the girl he loved.

“You know, the girl Liam’s always reminding you about.”

At the mention of the name Killian still looked confused and then he laughed. Wait, he’s laughing? Why is he laughing? This is serious! Before she could get angry though he pulled her to him, distracting her with his nearness as the sound of his voice washed over her.

“God I could kill my brother for this, but I haven’t got the time. Emma, ‘Merida’ is not some long-lost love I’m pining away for. She’s a seventy-six-year-old Scottish woman who used to be our neighbor.”

“Oh.” What else was there to say? Clearly she’d been an idiot.

“The only girl I’ve ever pined for has golden hair, jade colored eyes, and a bit of a temper.”

“Hey, I don’t -,” Killian interrupted her with a kiss she never saw coming, but that Emma immediately melted into. How could she fight with someone when they could do this instead? God it was perfect, everything she’d ever dreamed of, and even more he loved her! He’d said he loved her right? Oh please let her have heard that right. She waited when they broke apart, hoping he’d reiterate the words she’d always craved.

“She’s also brilliant and beautiful and bold. She’s kind and honest, fair and good. She’s always looking out for the people who she loves, and by God when she smiles at me, it’s like heaven itself made just for me.”

Emma looked at his face, searching for any trace of deceit, but there was none. He was pouring his heart out to her and laying it all on the line. It was just what she’d always wanted.

“I love you, Emma. I knew I would from the moment that we met. It’s you Emma. The girl I can’t get over is you, and I have no plans of ever trying. You’re it for me. I know we’re young, but I don’t care because -,”

This time it was her turn to pull him for a kiss, and she couldn’t help herself. After months of wanting him, he was finally hers, or maybe he had been all along. It felt so good to finally have this, to know that the dream she’d been waiting for was even better than her imagination could fathom, and only when they broke apart did she realize what this meant.

“Oh my God I messed everything up,” she said, hiding her face in his neck in embarrassment. “You tried to ask me to prom in the most romantic way and I ruined it.”

“I wasn’t planning to ask you to prom, Emma.”

“You weren’t?”

“No, love I was asking you to be mine, just as I’m yours. But as for ruining things, surely you must know you never could,” he said, his fingers running through her hair as he gazed at her adoringly. “You’ve made this the best day I’ve ever known. You told me you loved me. You let down the last bit of wall that was separating us. Everything’s been said now. There’s no secrets, no more doubts. You know my heart and I know yours. I couldn’t ask for more. And as for prom, if you want to go then we’ll go. I want to be wherever you are, Emma. For me it’s just that simple.”

“I want that too,” Emma said, kissing him again and feeling the lightness and joy that came with love that was reciprocal and true. After all the heart ache, they were together, and Emma knew their love would be forever. No matter what may come, or where they went from here, they were just meant to be. Always had been, always would be.

And though they spent the next few hours surrounding themselves in their newly found bliss, they eventually concurred that prom was a must. After all, Ruby would kill her if she didn’t go, and with Killian by her side it was bound to be a night she’d always remember and never forget.  

…………….

You the type of guy to write a song about You're laid back, nobody know what's on your mind We been talking for a while now (We been talking for a while now) And I been falling for a while now You say that everything with you is fine Even though we're always hanging out I get the feeling that you're not around, yeah

We were always up to something Now you're all in your head

I love you But I wish it wasn't true 'Cause I know you think of her When I'm lying next to you I love you And I don't know what to do 'Cause you can't get over her And I can't get over you

You the type of guy to tell your mom about You're laid back, but running circles round my mind I been falling for a while now (I been falling, I been falling, I been falling) But you been lying for a while now You say that everything with you is fine Even though we're always hanging out I get the feeling that you're not around, yeah

We were always up to something Now you're all in your head

I love you But I wish it wasn't true 'Cause I know you think of her When I'm lying next to you I love you And I don't know what to do 'Cause you can't get over her And I can't get over you (I can't get over you)

I love you And I don't know what to do 'Cause you can't get over her And I can't get over you

Post-Note: So there we have it. I hope you guys have enjoyed this little drabble, and to my lovely readers who always ask me for more bisexual Ruby representation, I had you guys in mind with this one too. I know it’s a very short feature, and I am usually very committed to the Ruby/Graham pairing, but I’m happy to share the love for everyone that I can. I wish the show had developed a lot of these characters and relationships more, but hey, there’s always fanfic! Anyway, thank you all for reading and hope you have a great weekend!  

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9,Part 10,Part 11, Part 12,Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24,Part 25, Part 26, Part 27, Part 28, Part 29, Part 30, Part 31,Part 32, Part 33, Part 34, Part 35, Part 36, Part 37, Part 38,Part 39,Part 40, Part 41, Part 42, Part 43, Part 44, Part 45,Part 46,Part 47, Part 48, Part 49, Part 50, Part 51, Part 52, Part 53,Part 54,Part 55, Part 56, Part 57, Part 58, Part 59, Part 60,Part 61,Part 62, Part 63, Part 64, Part 65, Part 66, Part 67, Part 68,Part 69,Part 70, Part 71, Part 72, Part 73, Part 74, Part 75,Part 76,Part 77, Part 78, Part 79, Part 80, Part 81, Part 82, Part 83,Part 84,Part 85, Part 86, Part 87, Part 88, Part 89, Part 90,Part 91,Part 92, Part 93, Part 94, Part 95, Part 96, Part 97, Part 98,Part 99,Part 100, Part 101, Part 102, Part 103,Part 104, Part 105,Part 106, Part 107,Part 108, Part 109, Part 110,Part 111, Part 112,Part 113, Part 114, Part 115,Part 116, Part 117, Part 118,Part 119,Part 120, Part 121, Part 122, Part 123,Part 124, Part 125,Part 126, Part 127, Part 128,Part 129,Part 130, Part 131,Part 132,Part 133, Part 134, Part 135, Part 136, Part 137, Part 138,Part 139,Part 140, Part 141, Part 142, Part 143, Part 144, Part 145,Part 146, Part 147, Part 148,Part 149, Part 150, Part 151,Part 152, Part 153, Part 154, Part 155, Part 156, Part 157, Part 158,Part 159, Part 160, Part 161, Part 162, Part 163, Part 164,Part 165, Part 166, Part 167, Part 168, Part 169, Part 170,Part 171,Part 172, Part 173, Part 174, Part 175, Part 176,Part 177, Part 178, Part 179 , Part 180, Part 181, Part 182, Part 183, Part 184, Part 185, Part 186, Part 187, Part 188, Part 189

[lovieebby]

Hi Sweetheart, I would love to know the answers when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk? 59: what is your favorite myth. 66: what would your ideal flower crown look like? 😘

Hi lovely!! ❤️

1. When you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk?

Definitely more cereal than milk! I can’t drink milk that well, even tho I like it, I can’t drink a full bowl 😂

59. What’s your favorite myth?

I hope we’re taliking about any myths bc Greek mythology is *chefs kiss*— love it! Medusa is my damn idol. I love her to bits!

“Her beauty caught the eye of the sea god Poseidon, who proceeded to rape her in the sacred temple of Athena. Furious at the desecration of her temple, Athena transformed Medusa into a monster with the deadly capacity to turn whoever looked upon her face to stone.” —from VICE

66. What would your ideal flower crown look like?

I’d have green vines with peony flowers and maybe some of those teeny tiny white flowers (i forgot what they’re called) with some small rose buds, just before they bloom! I love the way baby roses look 💕

Ask me more!! ✨

[roxannarambles]

Snufmin: Flowers

It was a balmy spring day, the air sweet and heavy; the sort of day that was perfect for drinking pink lemonade and laying in a field and watching the fluffy clouds scuttle by. In fact, Moomin had been doing exactly that, until the familiar sight of a pointed green hat filled his vision. The hat’s owner smiled down at him and asked if he wanted to join him.

And so the pair ended up in the fields just beyond the forest, hunting for new and interesting flowers for Snufkin to make a wreath around his hat to replace the old and wilted ones. The field was perfect for their cause. Moomin set about picking different shades of poppies and long shoots of fuzzy lavender, while Snufkin carefully collected teeny, tiny scarlet pimpernel and daisies. For a long time, there were no sounds but the buzzing of bees, the warbling of birds, and the gentle breeze ruffling through the fields.

Moomin found himself humming one of Snufkin’s recent tunes as he worked. It was such a light and flittering tune, sprightly and playful, and he hadn’t been able to get it out of his mind. How Snufkin was able to create such songs, Moomin couldn’t even imagine. As he reached to pick what he thought was more lavender, Moomin paused in his humming and made a noise of surprise. The dainty purple flowers weren’t lavender at all—they grew from a short little plant with broad, flat leaves that looked very much like mint.  

“What is it?” Snufkin asked curiously, wandering to Moomin’s side.

“Oh, just a flower I’d never seen before. It’s quite pretty.”

Moomin picked one of the stalks covered in the little flowers and examined them closely. They were vaguely trumpet-shaped, with frilly little edges. He handed the stalk to Snufkin.

“Hm. I’ve never seen them before either. It is pretty,” Snufkin agreed. He sniffed the little blossoms and hummed pleasantly.

“They smell nice too.”

Snufkin brought the stalk closer to his face to breathe it deeper. He made another soft noise at the back of his throat, and buried his nose in the plant completely, nuzzling and sniffing. Moomin tilted an ear.

“Wow, it’s that good?”

He turned and picked another stalk of the little purple flowers and sniffed at them. There was a very light, faintly sweet scent, but . . . nothing that amazing.

Moomin turned to Snufkin quizzically,

“Snufkin, I’m not sure what you . . . er . . .”

He trailed off at the sight of his friend rubbing the plant in his face blissfully. After a moment, Snufkin seemed to realize what he was doing, and gingerly took the crunched stalk away from his face. He looked mildly embarrassed.

“Um.” Snufkin coughed. “Sorry, this one got a little smooshed.”

Moomin laughed.

“That’s all right. I’m glad you like it so much. I’ll pick some more for you.”

Moomin picked several more long stalks of the strange little purple flowers, and some of the leaves as well. Once they’d finished collecting blooms, Moomin watched his friend expertly weave the flowers into a wreath. It was full of oranges and purples and whites and absolutely brimming with cheer. Moomin helped him place it around his hat.

“It’s perfect,” Moomin said, admiring the new look. Snufkin really looked very handsome with them, a crown befitting of a wandering prince.

Uh. Moomin blinked. He wasn’t sure where that thought had come from.

“Not quite,” Snufkin said. Moomin took a moment to process that before asking,

“Why’s that?”

Snufkin smiled lightly.

“We still need to make a matching one for you, of course.”

Moomin waved his tail about happily.

“Oh! Okay.”

So the two made a second flower crown to adorn Moomin. Snufkin wove a large number of the little purple flowers into it, including lots of the soft, fluffy leaves. They contrasted nicely with the scarlet pimpernel. Moomin grinned as Snufkin placed it gently upon his head.

“How’s it look?” Moomin asked cheerfully.

His friend looked at him a moment with those calm eyes of his; a warm, hazelnut gaze trailing lazily over him. A soft smile touched Snufkin’s face.

“You look lovely,” he answered, and Moomin felt a bubble of warmth fill up his chest. Snufkin leaned in slightly and added playfully,

“You smell lovely too.”

The little bubble of warmth in Moomin’s chest expanded and Moomin felt himself blushing.

“Aah—uhhmm—th-thank you.”

“Are you getting hungry? I could do with something.”

Moomin nodded and agreed,

“We could head back to Moominhouse, there’s leftover sandwiches.”

So they headed back in the direction of Moominhouse to find a late lunch. Along the way back, Moomin began humming that tune again without even realizing it, and Snufkin wordlessly slipped the harmonica from his pocket and began playing along. Moomin skipped along the dirt path and started to dance goofily as they walked. He could see Snufkin smiling at his antics as he played, which only further encouraged Moomin. The young troll spun and bounced around Snufkin in a circle as they walked, grinning widely. Snufkin started to move in winding circles along with him, skipping along. Moomin laughed and twirled, and Snufkin did the same, and before long, they were both dancing without a care in the world.

[queerbloodyangel]

hm. 5 plants u have

WHAT A TOPIC BOI WAHT A TOPIC!!!!!!!!!!!!!

1. first of all. i just got my hands on a snake plant/mother in law’s tongue and its leaves are at least three feet tall and he’s absolutely beautiful and im so excited to pot him akdsjslaf

2. i have a lavender scallops his name is henry ive had him 4 months and in that time he’s grown a solid 6 inches so hes a Big Boy with big dreams and i adore him

3. so i have a reverse variegated spider plant that’s got leaves that are green on the inside and white on the edges and holy shit she is so gorgeous. she’s pretty small right now but hopefully once spring hits shes gonna grow huge and push out a lot of little babies

4. MY CHRISTMAS CACTUS!!!!!!!! i got her from my nana and she’s teenie tiny right now but hopefully once i repot her in the spring she grows and i can get her to bloom next year, i cant wait to see what color her flowers are ldkfajslkdj

5. and last but not least i have a string of pearls! they’re really delicate trailing plants and the leaves look like pearls/peas. they’re supposedly really difficult to keep alive so im nervous about her but so far she seems to be doing okay!

ask me about my top 5 anything!

[marril96]

Single White Witch

Chapter 3: Found

Characters: Rowena, reader, Sam, OC

Pairing: Rowena x reader

Summary: When Rowena gets kidnapped by an unhinged witch, you enlist Sam’s help to rescue her.

Editor: @oswinthestrange

Martha's house couldn't have come into view soon enough. Hidden deep in the thick forest that stretched out for miles in all directions, it was a rather cozy little place, if the exterior was anything to go by. A perfect hiding spot for a solitary witch.

Especially if said witch was an unhinged kidnapper.

Sam parked the car about five hundred feet away, behind a clutter of particularly thick bushes and blossoming trees. If the two of you wanted to sneak up on Martha, you had to be inconspicuous, which would have been a tad difficult to do if you'd parked in her driveway. You might as well have rung the bell and politely, with tight smiles door-to-door salesmen and Jehovah's Witnesses would envy, asked for Rowena's return.

Yeah, that would end well.

Martha would never see you coming from the forest. Trees made for perfect camouflage.

"Ready?" Sam asked.

You mentally went over a few spells, readying them in case of emergency, and nodded. "Ready."

Sam grabbed the witch-killing-bullets-filled gun, and the two of you were on your way. He'd offered you the same gun, but you'd declined, deciding to stick with magic. You'd never fired a gun in your life. Getting a hold of one, even with the safety on, would most likely end in disaster. Knowing your luck, you would end up shooting yourself while aiming at Martha's head. You had mad auto-injury skills. Rowena was proud.

Rowena… How was she doing? Had Martha hurt her?

Stop it, Y/N! you chastised yourself, shaking the unpleasant thoughts away. Rowena was a big girl. She could hold her own against a forty-five-year old witch. Even if she was restrained, you had no doubt she could defend herself. Your girl had a big mouth and an even bigger, very Scottish vocabulary.

Unless said mouth and vocabulary got her in even more trouble, in which case you were ready to skin a bitch alive. But you couldn't think about that now. You had to focus on the good, on the positive, on the hopeful.

Maybe Martha hadn't taken her to harm her in the first place. She was obsessed with her; she wanted her in ways that would have been cute if they weren't disturbing. She loved her. Maybe that was why she'd kidnapped her — to be close to her, to have her for her own. It beat other, much less pleasant scenarios.

Sam and you sneaked out to the back of the house, behind a small, dilapidated shed. You let him take the lead and followed after him like a puppy. He was a hunter; he must have done this hundreds of times. You were just a witch, scared and worried out of your mind. It was why you'd called him for help. He knew what to do, and how to do it right.

"There's a back door," he said in a hushed voice. You glanced in the direction he was gesturing to, took in the teal-colored door, and nodded. "You take it, and I'll take the front door."

Panic bloomed up in your chest like flowers in spring, fresh and overwhelming. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I'll go in first, distract her if possible. Then you go in through the back and look for Rowena."

Sounded like a plan.

You gave a sharp nod, still unsure. You didn't know this house, didn't know the layout. What if there were more rooms than it looked like from the outside? What if all the doors were squeaky? What if there were traps? Martha was a good witch. You wouldn't put it past her to magic the house against intruders.

"You ready?" Sam asked, noticing your uncertainty.

"Not really."

He laid a hand on his shoulder, a kind, friendly gesture. His lips widened into a smile. "It's gonna be okay. We can do this."

"I know," you said after a moment's hesitation. You pulled on a grin, a fake one you hoped was convincing enough. "Let's go. Rowena gets fussy when she has to wait long."

Sam laughed, then, face growing serious, stalked towards the front of the house. You watched him like a hawk, intently, thoroughly, taking in his actions. Hoping you could be just as good, just as sneaky as him. Rowena counted on you. You had to do it. You could do it. If she were here, she would tell you so. She would believe in you. As difficult as it was for her, after centuries of betrayal and protective walls she'd hidden behind, she trusted you with her life. You wouldn't let her down.

If you were the one who was kidnapped, Rowena would tear the world apart to find you. She'd leave no stone, no teeny-tiny rock unturned. You owed it to her to do the same for her.

You waited a few moments after Sam entered the house (a fear-laden cringe spread over your face at the loud squeak of the front door. You hoped your entrance would be a lot quieter) before heading for the back door. Gently, tentatively, as if you were tending to someone's grave injury, you twisted the knob. A sigh of relief escaped you at the silence; you were lucky. As quietly as you could, you sneaked inside.

The hallway was dark. There were a few tiny tables and closets by the wall, each supporting a potted plant or two. Pictures in elegant frames lined the wall. Looking closer, you realized with a shudder that they were of Rowena. Martha was watching her. Not only that, but she'd taken pictures of her. A part of you was glad she'd cut you out of them, but the feeling of unease remained. This woman — this witch — was a stalker.

The only thing worse than a crazy person was a crazy person with stalking tendencies.

Had she watched the two of you together? Had she watched you hugging, kissing, messing around? Had she followed you home?

A knot, tight, aching, formed in your stomach at the thought, icy chills spilling down your spine. What if she did know where you lived? What if she was there? Following Rowena's brutal murder at Lucifer's hands, the two of you had warded the house heavily. Nobody and nothing uninvited could step foot inside. But Martha was a witch. What if she was looking for a way to get in?

What if she'd already found a way?

You decided, right then and there, that Martha Morgan would die. You'd fully intended to kill her for taking Rowena — this only helped cement your decision. She had to die. She was too dangerous to be allowed to live.

A large staircase came into view. Looking around to make sure you were in the clear, you rose up on your tiptoes and started walking up it. Another dark hallway greeted you. There were a few doors the same teal color as the back door. Preparing a spell in your mind, you reached for the one on your left when you heard a muffled sound. It was quiet, faint, but you could hear it clearly.

You stalked to the end of the hallway, following the strange sound. It seemed to be coming from the room furthest away. Please, be okay, you prayed to whoever was listening. Please, be okay. Please, be okay. Going over a few attack spells, just in case, you carefully opened the door.

Your heart stopped dead in its tracks.

Rowena was on the bed, wrists and ankles tied with belts. Her shoes and jacket were gone; looking around, you found them beside the bed, neatly resting on the floor. A black piece of fabric was wrapped around her mouth, a makeshift gag. She appeared to be unharmed. There were no bruises in sight, no cuts, no blood marring her skin or clothes.

You breathed out in relief. She was okay. And, now that you were here, she was safe.

Rowena's eyes lit up at the sight of you. She released a sigh, relief washing over her. You gave her your brightest smile.

"There you are," you said happily. "Been looking all over for you. You're a hard girl to find."

She rolled her eyes, prompting you to chuckle, and mumbled something that, from the tone and the look on her face, didn't seem very polite.

You shot her a mock glare. "Be nice. I'm here to rescue you."

Another mumble, identical tone. You had to laugh. Rowena was difficult, an acquired taste, but she was yours. You loved her more than anything and anyone in the world, and you knew she felt the same. Behind the sassy exterior there was a sweetheart, a softie that enjoyed kisses and cuddles, that called you "dearest" and made you tea and held your hand tight when you were sick.

"Yup, sweetie. I'm your knight in shining armor," you teased, earning you another eyeroll. Your little drama queen. She was a delight to mess with. You were one of the few people who dared do so; most knew her power and did their best to stay out of her way. Pissing off one of the deadliest witches in the world was far from a good idea.

You begged to disagree. You liked a good challenge. What was she going to do? Pout at you to death? Scrunch her face until you keeled over from adorableness?

But then, she was in love with you. Others weren't so lucky.

You undid the belts on Rowena's ankles, then hurried to do the same for her wrists. As soon as she was free, she ripped the gag off, threw it aside with a disgusted look on her face, and shot you a look that was so intense your knees felt weak underneath it.

"About bloody time," she said. Her tone was curt and to the point, but there was no malice in it, no hostility. She wasn't mad at you; she was simply doing what she always did when she was scared — put on a facade to hide behind, a steel-forged mask to fool the world into thinking she was fine, into thinking she was this cold, heartless bitch when she was anything but.

She should've known by now that you weren't the world. You knew her better than anyone.

Before you could utter an equally snippy response, Rowena pulled you down to the bed. Her arms fell around you, followed quickly by her legs. She clung to you like a koala, her grip tight, strong, almost suffocating. You wasted no time returning the hug, holding back with equal force. It felt so good to hold her, to feel the warmth of her skin on yours, to feel the soft vibrations of her heart. She was so small in your arms, so fragile. You never wanted to let her go again.

"I was so scared," you said. A few tears slipped down your cheeks as you flashed back to the sheer terror that had struck you when your eyes first fell upon the blue hex bag. So many scenarios had gone through your head, so many images horror movies would envy. You were glad, so very, very glad none of them came true.

"I know," Rowena said. "Me, too." It took a lot out of her to admit it, especially out loud. She rarely bared her soul. If something was bothering her, you usually had to fish the words out of her mouth.

Instinctively, your grip tightened. "Did she hurt you?"

"No. She wanted to shove a love potion down my throat, but—"

You pulled back and looked her in the eyes. "She what?"

Rowena sighed, tired. "She thinks you cast a spell on me to make me fall in love with you."

You blinked. Once. Twice. Three times. Then, like a flash flood, a bark of laughter tore from your mouth.

Even back when Rowena saw you as more of an accessory than a friend, long before you'd started dating, it had never crossed your mind, not for even a second, to spell her to change her mind about you. You could live with her paying you no mind, could live with her hating you and leaving you without a shred of remorse as long as she chose to do so. You never wanted to take her choice away from her.

After all, you weren't a psychotic witch who kidnapped people and wanted to force-feed them love potions.

"That was my reaction as well," Rowena said, amused. "Before she could do anything, she heard a noise and went to investigate."

A noise? Shit! "That's probably Sam."

Shock spread over Rowena's face like paint. "Samuel is here?"

"Yeah. I called him."

You turned away from her, suddenly ashamed. You couldn't even rescue your girlfriend on your own. Some witch you were. If roles were reversed, Rowena would've wiped the floor with Martha, untied you, and painted her nails at the same time.

She most certainly would never beg a hunter for help.

Rowena brought a hand to your cheek, cupping it with utmost tenderness. She tilted your head back to look you in the eyes. "I'm glad you did." Her voice was as soft and gentle as her touch, a silky melody that soothed your nerves.

"I didn't wanna take any chances," you said honestly. Two people were better than one. You would never risk her safety to protect your ego.

"You did good," she told you, every word screaming honesty. She was proud of you, you realized. Proud and happy to see you. She never would have wanted you to endanger yourself for her. She wasn't that selfish — not anymore.

"I love you so much, Rowena. So, so much."

"I love you all the same, darling."

You knew. You knew very well, yet every time she said it your heart jumped wildly as if it was the very first time. There was a time when those words were nothing but your imagination, daydreams you never thought would come true. Never, in your wildest dreams, could you have imagined you would be hearing them almost every single day.

Rowena looked around. "Did you happen to see my shoes? That utter fanny took them. Those are Louboutins!" Her face was the picture of outrage. She looked as if she wanted to skin Martha alive solely for that.

Swallowing a laugh, you said, "They're right there." You pointed to behind the bed. "So is your jacket."

She breathed out in relief. "She'd better not have damaged them."

Mess with her shoes, and you were dead. You'd learned the hard way to stay far, far away from her footwear. If there was even a single scratch on them, Martha was dead meat.

"They look fine."

Rowena's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "We'll see."

"Your shoes are undamaged," a heavy-Southern-accented voice you never thought you'd hear again said, startling you. "I respect other people's possessions."

Martha stood in the doorway looking strangely imposing, almost threatening. One of her hands held onto Sam's forearm, her other one clutching a gun, holding it pressed straight against his temple. His gun, you realized as a pang of shock rushed through you, the one meant to kill her. It would have been ironic if it wasn't tragic.

You gulped, arms instinctively tightening around Rowena. Sam's eyes met yours, puppy-like, apologetic. You responded with a small shake of your head. It wasn't his fault. It was you who'd gotten him into this mess, you who'd called him begging for help. If anything, you were the one to blame.

"Do you?" you said in a tone that was a tad snarkier than intended. Pissing off the enemy wasn't the best idea, but you couldn't help it.

"Unlike you, I do," Martha replied in the same tone.

You snorted. "That's rich, coming from a kidnapper."

"All I did was rescue Rowena from your clutches." There was a strange conviction in her tone, utmost, absolute honesty. She believed what she was saying. She truly, genuinely believed her actions were justified.

A shudder ran through you at the realization. Villains who were evil for the sake of being evil were one thing. Those who were evil because they thought they were in the right were something completely different. Something, dare you say, terrifying. No amount of reasoning with them would work.

Martha suddenly seemed much more dangerous than you'd initially believed. In her delusion, she was saving Rowena, setting her free from your spell. There was nothing she wouldn't do to keep her safe.

Just like there was nothing you wouldn't do. You'd killed for her. Threatened. Destroyed. You'd done things you never would have done before, all in the name of love. Martha would do the same. Just because the threat wasn't real didn't mean she didn't perceive it as such. And, as such, it — you — and everything and everyone else that stood in her way had to be eliminated.

"I would never hurt her," you said, though you knew it was futile. The woman was far too gone for reason. Your hand slid up to the back of Rowena's head, cupping it, pressing it against you. A protective gesture, one you displayed every time she awoke from nightmares to let her know she was safe, that you were here and you wouldn't let anyone hurt her. "Never."

Martha was watching you like a hawk. For a moment it seemed as if she would snap, but then she sucked in a breath to regain her composure and said in a voice that was too calm to be friendly, "You're a liar. And Rowena will see it soon enough."

"You're not getting that potion anywhere near her!" you snarled.

"I'll do whatever's necessary to set her free."

"Y/N's already done that," Rowena said with a sardonic smile, shooting a brief glance to the discarded belts.

"She's brainwashed you, dear," Martha said as if she were speaking to a child, voice soft, motherly. It made your stomach turn. "She's making you think—"

"You're fucking crazy!" you snapped, having had enough of her nonsense.

"And you're a rapist!" she retorted. "Spelling her, making her do god-knows-what… She doesn't want you!"

"No, she doesn't want you!" you spat. You were a rapist? You? The mere thought made you want to burst into uncontrollable laughter. Rich accusation, coming from a woman who wanted to force-feed Rowena a love potion.

"We'll see about that," Martha said. "Let her go, and I'll release the hunter."

You looked to her, then to Sam, and then to Rowena. You wanted nothing more than to hold Rowena tighter, if it was possible at this point. Wanted nothing more than to keep her safe, to protect her from this lunatic.

But you also wanted to help Sam. He was in trouble because of you. If you hadn't called him…

Rowena unwrapped her legs and pulled away from you. You grabbed her hand. "Rowena…"

"It's fine," she assured you. Glancing at Martha, she said, "Let him go. He's got nothing to do with this."

Damn her and her newfound conscience!

"Come here," Martha told her.

She tried to get up, but you put a hand on her shoulder, holding her in place. "Wait."

"I have to do this, Y/N."

"No, you don't." Your eyes found Sam's. I'm sorry, they said. Guilt tore at your heart, ripped it to pieces with every beat. As much as you wanted to help him, you wanted to help Rowena more. Wanted to protect her, as you always did. Wanted to keep her safe. If you had to choose between the two of them, you chose her. You would choose her every time.

"Y/N, please," Rowena said. The look in her eyes echoed her words, pleading, desperate. Guilty around the edges for reasons you couldn't comprehend. She laid a hand over yours, fingers wrapping around yours, squeezing tightly. A wordless promise that it would be okay, that she would be okay.

Sighing, you nodded and released her. You threw a glare at Martha, a sharp, pointed one. This wasn't over, it said. Not by a longshot. You came here to rescue Rowena, and that was exactly what you would do.

The other witch's face was the picture of triumph. Lips wide in a smile, features lit up, almost on fire, eyes gleaming like fireworks… All that was left was an evil cackle, which you were certain she was capable of. She looked it.

"Good girl," she said.

Rowena scowled at her. Getting to her feet, she slowly, tentatively stepped forward. Martha watched her, happy, joyous. It made your stomach turn. That woman had no right to look at your girlfriend like that, like she was a piece of meat, a trophy to be claimed. That was all Rowena was to her; a possession, an object. She may have thought she loved her, or cared about her, or whatever else she'd deluded herself into. The truth was, she wanted to own her. She wanted to have her just so you wouldn't anymore.

You couldn't let that happen, couldn't let this woman, this psycho, get her hands on your girl again. You hadn't worked so hard to earn Rowena's trust, and eventually her love, for some middle-aged, tantrum-throwing toddler to steal her from you.

Martha's eyes were on Rowena. Her hold on Sam wavered, gun looser against his temple. You looked at him, then at the witch, and back at him. As if he'd read your mind, he gave a small, barely noticeable nod. A silent go ahead.

Sucking in a deep breath for courage, you raised up a forefinger and, focused solely on Martha, shouted at the top of your lungs, "ABI!"

As if carried by an unseen force, Martha flew backwards. She slammed into the wall, her massive body leaving a dent in the concrete, and, with a loud yelp of pain, fell to the floor. Sam collapsed along with her, her hand only letting go of him once they were both down.

Rowena gasped, startled, but quickly composed herself and ran to the hunter's side. You followed after her when Martha, red faced and panting and pissed to high heavens, jumped to her feet and lunged at you like a wild animal. Before you could even think to defend yourself, she was straddling you, holding you in place. A rain of punches and scratches fell on your face, incessant, never-ending, a downpour of pain. You screamed as you raised your hands in attempts to shove her off, but she slapped them away and continued her assault.

"She's mine!" she shrieked. "You can't have her! She's mine!"

"Stop it!" you exclaimed.

"I won't let you take her from me!"

"Crazy cunt!" you spat.

Letting out an offended gasp, Martha punched you straight in the mouth. "You don't deserve her!"

Before you could utter another insult, Rowena shouted, "Impetus bestiarum!"

Martha stilled as if frozen. Her fists fell to her sides, limp, useless. Red veins framed her eyes; she looked up, head twitching like a junkie craving a fix.

Swallowing a lump that had formed in your throat, you turned to Rowena. Her hands were up, fingers clenched, glare fixed on Martha. Fury lined her face, made her teeth clench and the corners of her mouth twitch.

"End it," she said calmly.

Martha looked at you, then at her, before getting on her feet.

Then she lunged for the window and jumped in a rain of glass and blood.

A thud sounded as her body hit the floor. Rowena exhaled in relief before kneeling by you, hand clutching yours as if she hadn't held it in days.

"Are you okay?" she asked, voice soft, almost motherly.

"Yeah," you replied. "Thank you." Your fingers traced your face; there were a few cuts, and a couple of places stung, soon to blossom into bruises.

"That hag had no right to lay her hands on my wee girl."

"Exactly why I Abi'd her."

Raising up into a sitting position, you pulled her into a hug. She returned it, holding with equal ferocity.

"Don't you ever get kidnapped again," you said.

"I solemnly swear I will try not to," Rowena said with a chuckle.

"Good. I hate getting beaten up to save your ass," you teased.

"At least your shoes weren't stolen."

"Your shoes are fine, unlike my face."

"Um, guys?"

Frowning, the two of you separated and glanced back. Sam was looking at you with a mixture of impatience and relief.

You were so caught up in Rowena that you'd forgotten he was here.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Aye," Rowena said. "And you?"

He gave a small nod.

"Sorry for… y'know, blasting you," you said, apologetic.

He smiled. "Don't worry about it. You all set to go?"

"Yeah," you said.

"Let's go home," Rowena agreed and made a disgusted face. "I need a bath."

"Of course you do," you deadpanned.

She cocked up an eyebrow. "Lass, I just saved your arse."

"And I saved yours," you reminded her. "So we're even."

She sighed. "Why do I put up with you?"

"Because you love me."

"Maybe you did spell me," she joked.

"Sure."

The banter persisted the entire way home, much to Sam's chagrin. But, despite the surface annoyance, the smile never left his mouth. His friend was okay, and was reunited with her girlfriend. She was happy.

Mission accomplished.

Tags: @werewolfbarbie @oswinthestrange @songofthecagedmoose @apurdyfulmind @getthesalt-sam @metallihca @salembitchtrials @jay-eris @hellsmother @elizabeth-effie @victoriasagittariablack @rowenaswife @dropsofpetrichor @xfireandsin @liddell-alien @hotdiggitydammit @thai-inette @darkhumorsblog @wayward-kaia @angel7376 @rowenaisfabulous @ruthieconnells @evil-regal-vampiress @collectorofsecretsandsouls @angel-e-v-a

[merryfortune]

Day 2 - Summer

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! Arc V

Ship: Sayaka/Ruri

Alternate Universe: Into the Forest of Fireflies

Warnings: Fluff with a Sad Ending

Word Count: 2.4k

  The countryside appealed greatly to Sayaka. Always had and, as she planned ahead towards her future now that she was nearing the end of her high school career, always will. Though, there was a specific place, her aunt and uncle’s residence out way, way into the countryside where the grass was more gold than green and where the air was fresh. The lack of people appealed to her greatly; she felt like she could breathe, especially compared to the pollution-clogged streets of Heartland.

  But, Sayaka would admit with a blush in her cheeks, there was one person who did exist in the countryside: someone all for her.

  She had met this person – this girl – when she had been a child. Her name was Ruri and she didn’t exist. She was neither human nor a ghost. A willowy waif in between, wearing a yellow sundress and with feathers attached to her mask which was bird-like, specifically in the shape of a robin. She had been an adolescent when Sayaka had met her in the summer about a decade ago; or more accurately, twelve years ago now.

  Even though she was so much older than Sayaka, she had adored Sayaka’s presence in her life, as fleeting as it was. After all, Ruri had all the time in the world, in her own special way, but Sayaka’s time upon this Earth was even far more finite. After all, she was only human, even when she was teeny-tiny but in a different sense, she was finite in that she only had the summer. She would arrive at the end of the first week of June and then leave before the last week of August. It was pitiful but Sayaka didn’t mind. Nor did Ruri.

  The days of Sayaka’s childhood were halcyon. Breezy afternoons by the stream, watching birds and watching the clouds. Ruri knew how to do fortune telling using both of them; a spirit, a proper spirit, of the forest had taught her. Ruri was a child of the forest, she said. After all, she had been human once, but she never died. She simply transcended because the forest wanted to keep her, this tiny abandoned baby with a bottle milk and a jewelled ring to play with in a woven cane basket plied with stained white sheets. So, the spirits of the forest kept her, turned her into something else, and gave her that white mask she wore to signify that though she may look human, she wasn’t quite.

  Over the years, Sayaka would visit every summer. Summer quickly became her favourite season. She spent the autumns, springs, and winters yearning for the summer to return so that she may return to the wonderful side of the quiet and nearly enigmatic Ruri. At first, she wasn’t sure though but later, Sayaka became certain of it.

   She wasn’t solely in love with the summer, she was in love with Ruri too. After all, they had spent so many summers together, Sayaka was nearly as tall as Ruri now. Her age too, visibly but Sayaka feared that one day, she may surpass Ruri, grow older. It was a melancholic yearning which was why Sayaka resolved that not only would she spend the summers with Ruri, she would spend the other seasons together, as well. After all, she thought of this girl and this girl alone throughout it all.

  Sayaka thought – dreamed – of touching Ruri.

  Again, Ruri was only human in shape. She was like the moon: beautiful, luminescent, smiling, but completely and utterly untouchable. It was the price for her existence, transient yet seemingly endless. The spell placed upon her, to keep her in the forest filled with spirits who adored her was that she was forbidden to touch a human. If she should, she would disappear.

  But, Sayaka wanted to touch her anyway.

  There had been a close call in the past. When Sayaka was about eight, she was walking along the pier with Ruri, near the shallows, when she slipped. Ruri had gone to catch her hand and pull her back but then her heart stopped. She remembered that if her hand met Sayaka’s, she would disappear so, she let the young girl fall. Sayaka was drenched but she would rather be drenched than alone, but it was that moment, Sayaka realised, that she wanted to officiate her connection because to be touched and to touch others, she felt, was to be human. But to be Ruri, she had to forsake such a simple pleasure despite her deceptively human shape.

  To hold Ruri’s hand, to kiss her, those were the sweet, melancholic yearnings that Sayaka had in her quiet heart but for now, Sayaka cherished the time that she could spent with Ruri, side by side. For now, and hopefully, for as long as possible. As long as there were summers to be had, Sayaka would remember Ruri and love her.

  When summer came this year, Ruri seemed strange. Stranger than usual. Sayaka spieled about all her plans for after school. Ruri listened, saintly, and nodded her head. Yet, she sounded uncertain from behind her beaked mask. That made Sayaka a little nervous, right up until Ruri spun around, dress twirling, and breaking out into a flippant promise: tonight, would be the best night of any summer that they had ever had. And ever could have.

   “Let’s go to the summer festival tonight, Sayaka.” Ruri said.

  “Huh? Why? Isn’t it dangerous?” Sayaka replied, quivering.

  “What? No, not at all. It’s not different to the festivals that humans hold. In fact, we were inspired by them. In fact, sometimes, humans slip in anyway… You’ll be fine, dear. I’ll pick you up tonight so wear your best. We’ll meet here, like we always do.” Ruri said.

  “Alright…” Sayaka mumbled.

  She and Ruri parted thereafter. They had been hanging around the temple but once Ruri turned her back on Sayaka, she seemed to disappear completely before even moving off the temple’s threshold. The forest welcomed her back and somewhere, a wild bird sang sweetly. Sayaka’s heart trembled. Her heart swelled with elation: her first date with Ruri but her soul trembled; something about it bode ill.

  Regardless, Sayaka was able to produce her best clothes. Her aunt permitted her to wear her yukata; it was supposed to be saved for only the most special occasions as it was that precious to her and their family. It had belonged to her grandmother originally and was still in as stunning of a condition as when it had first been sewn. Sayaka felt almost unbecoming wearing it due to its legacy but at the same time, she felt beautiful in it. It was pale pink with a dual motif of feathers and flowers. With a smile, Sayaka’s aunt did up her hair in a high bun.

  Ruri had been waiting for Sayaka for some time when Sayaka returned to the nearly abandoned temple where they liked to play and hang out. Twilight had completely descended into the Earth by the time Sayaka arrived but Ruri thought she looked magnificent. She smiled girlishly, though her expression hidden by her mask, and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear then extended a hand to Sayaka.

  Sayaka flailed her hands about, “You mustn’t, Ruri!” she murmured.

  Ruri giggled and she jerked her hand about. The ribbon she had tied around it began to loosen.

  “Here,” she said, “tie it around your wrist.”

  “O-Oh.” Sayaka murmured.

  She drew in closer and took the ribbon. It was of a soft, white material. With ease, Sayaka was able to tie it around her wrist similar to how Ruri wore it. She smiled up at Ruri and blushed.

  “Let’s go.” Ruri said.

  She tugged on the ribbon and like a child’s toy, Sayaka was tugged along with it. She was once more caught up in Ruri’s aura and she adored it. Together, they stowed away in the darkness and into the forest. Ruri led her through the woods where the grass crinkled pleasantly underfoot. The woods were dense but orange lights flickered just beyond them and soon enough, Sayaka felt as though she had set foot in a very familiar yet simultaneously alien town.

  The paths were stony underfoot and the bunting flapped above overhead. She looked around whilst Ruri gently led her through the crowds. Sayaka couldn’t help but look at everything at once in some vain attempt to absorb all the sights. Some of the people here looked just like her: completely human. Others had animal ears and others again had limbs in all the wrong proportions. Yet, everyone in this crowd meant peace and joy. Sayaka didn’t sense a malignant force amongst them. Everyone just wanted to enjoy the festival. Ruri must have been feeling similarly as she skewed her mask, allowing her face to feel the night air and allowing Sayaka to bask in the presence of her unbidden smile.

  The festival was loud and noisy. People crowded and clustered. Amongst them, musicians played their instruments and others sang. Vendors lined the streets, lit with orangey lamps and selling all sorts of things: food, games, costumes and more. Sayaka and Ruri drifted through, purchasing a bit of this and a bit of that. Mostly talking to one another, clinging onto the ribbon which bound them together no differently than the act of holding hands.

  It was a wonderful way to spend their time. Every moment had Sayaka’s heart racing. At the end of the night, she and Ruri watched the fireworks. They shot up and exploded into beautiful jets of gold and crimson. They whistled and spat, hissed and fizzled. The sparks bloomed ephemerally in no particular shapes or patterns, but they were still beautiful to watch as they drifted down against the inky black of the night sky speckled with silver stars.

  But even such beautiful and exciting things paled in comparison to the grace of Ruri. Her eyes looked gorgeous, lit up with awe and with the vanishing lights of the fireworks. Her lips were parted slightly in a wondrous smile and Sayaka watched Ruri watching the fireworks; a tentative observation. She wished, desperately, that she could kiss Ruri.

  Ruri must have noticed Sayaka staring. The fireworks were finished. Ruri pulled on the ribbon; Sayaka’s fingers quirked.

  “Let’s go visit the lake, it’s the right season for fireflies, yeah?” Ruri said.

  “Mmhm.” Sayaka replied.

  So, Ruri took off again with the wind in her hair. Sayaka trailed along, smiling, and they disappeared further into the forest again. When they arrived by the lakeshore, it was likely about midnight. Here, the night was pleasantly cool and balmy. The lake was still and lively with the reflections of the night sky: slowly shimmering stars and illuminated by the moon. And in such serenity, green lights – the lit tail ends – of fireflies drifted through the air.

  Sayaka was awed by the sight. Ruri was awed by the sight of Sayaka’s smile. Her heart ached and yearned in equal measure, perhaps even more, unto Sayaka.

  “Sayaka,” Ruri murmured, “I love you.”

  Sayaka’s eyes widened behind her glasses. She gasped and Ruri drew closer. She carried a cool air with her. She unlatched her mask from the crown of her head, and she placed it on Sayaka’s face. The light, white wood it was carved from bumped against the frames of her glasses. Sayaka swallowed hard as she squinted through her new, all-encompassing darkness.

  Ruri kissed the mask. She kissed the protrusions of the mask’s lips, just beneath the beak which jutted out. Her cheek slid beneath the beak, a gentle nuzzle as she kissed as soft and as hard as she could. She poured all her feelings into that kiss and it could have made her cry. Instead, it filled her with a sweet and earnest joy.

  She hoped that Sayaka knew that she was kissing her. She hoped that Sayaka liked the kiss when she drew back. Sayaka shivered slightly and she removed the mask. She clutched onto it tenderly.

  “That was wonderful, Ruri.” she said, tears in her eyes. “I love you, Ruri.”

  “I know, Sayaka, I love you too.” Ruri murmured.

  The fireflies around them flitted and before their feelings unto one another could unravel any further, they heard the squeal and laugh of children. They smiled and turned their head. A boy and a girl, no older than eight from the looks of them, dashed through. The girl sprinted ahead whilst her companion was unable to keep pace.

  The boy tripped and Ruri, without thinking, raced to his aide. She helped him up and he had grass stains up and down his legs, but he was fine. He thanked her and his friend called to him. Ruri let the boy go and soon enough, the pair of children disappeared.

  Just like Ruri.

  Sayaka watched in horror as specks of green light, no different to the lights the fireflies wore, began to break off from Ruri’s body. Sayaka screamed. She dropped the mask. It landed in the grass at her feet and Ruri turned around. And she smiled because of course she smiled.

  “Sayaka, it’s okay…” Ruri murmured. “I don’t think I had much time left anyway. I wasn’t meant to live this long but I’m glad I did because I got to meet you.”

  Her words were soft as those specks of light billowed off her. She sparkled in the night, no different to a firework or a firefly. She drew in closer and opened her arms.

  “Please? Sayaka?” Ruri said.

  “I understand.” Sayaka said.

  Her arms flung out and she embraced Ruri. She nuzzled in close and inhaled what was left of her scent. Sayaka buried her face in Ruri’s breast and held onto her tightly. Ruri reciprocated such a tight embrace. She finally felt contented; something she hadn’t truly felt in years as she had been plagued by her yearning.

  “Thank you, Sayaka. I love you. Please don’t forget me.”

  “I won’t. I promise.” Sayaka sobbed as she was slowly brought to her knees.

  The lights drifted upwards and soon, Sayaka was by herself. Her scrawny arms wrapped around her own body where Ruri had been. She was gone. Sayaka bawled. All that remained of her dearest Ruri was the mask and the white ribbon, still entwined around Sayaka’s wrist and the other half piled in a loose curl but now, Sayaka had no one left to hold onto.

[youcantkillamutant]

The Mystery of the Golden Fang: Part 4, The Discovery

Part 1: The Collision–––Part 2: The Enlightenment–––Part 3: The Exploration

Author: youcantkillamutant

Fandom: Marvel (Black Panther)

Pairing: Erik Stevens/Killmonger x Black!OC

Summary: A girl stumbles into another world. A baby disappears. A private investigator wonders if this will be the case he can’t solve.

Warnings: Mentions of blood and death, cursing

Words: 11.5K+

A/N: So…here’s another one of those AU’s that absolutely no one asked for! I only own my original characters of course, Marvel don’t sue me I’m broke.

Listening To: Ride by Lana Del Rey, Ridin’ by Lana Del Rey & A$AP Rocky, Nuit de baise II by YELLE, Barton Hollow by the Civil Wars, Bones by MSMR, Promises by India Arie and Godspeed by Frank Ocean

Part 4: The Discovery

—l—

Of all the languages the moon has mastered, magic is her favorite. Spells and enchantments slip from her lips like an endless waterfall and trickle down into every world she visits in her trips through the starry sky. Her power falls into the hands of the good hearted and strong willed, leaving them with a key to worlds otherwise unknown.

—l—

Earth Stream 328: October 20, 2040

5:06AM

Grooved rubber resting on the hard packed dirt. Golden pipes hugging the pitch black sides. Short handles cased in black, gleaming with reflective glass. A glittering silver grill beneath the engine. One piercing headlight, and the name Killmonger etched above the seat like a promise. This is the bike Harley had dreams about. Sleek like a silver bullet, so loud she could feel it reverberating in her bones, this bike is the first and only thing Harley had ever coveted.

Killmonger sat on the beast, sliding on black leather gloves and taping his foot on the dusty ground. Void black leather groaned beneath him as he shifted. Harley had finally emerged from the club, having spent the past few days preparing with Shuri. She hadn’t stepped foot into the Golden Fang, not without Ayana, and certainly not with the Golden Jags looking at her like that. They stared like she was already a lost cause, destined to be cannon fodder for Killmonger.

“Took you long enough.”

“I’m early.” The pair had agreed to leave at 5:30AM, but Killmonger had been waiting since 5. He wanted his daughter back. No matter how early he had to drag his ass out of bed.

“Whatever witch, let’s get going.” For Harley, it was too early for Killmonger’s shit. She’d tolerated his forked tongue for too long.

“Okay first off, watch your fucking tone Monger. Second, if you want my help you need to call my by my actual name. Not ‘witch’ or whatever else you come up with.”

“Fine.” Harley quirked her eyebrow. That was too easy. She needed more, and Killmonger knew it.

“Fine Harley.” Killmonger resisted the urge to savor the name as he said it. This witch was nothing more than a babysitter. She’d never be anything more to him. She shouldn’t be anything more.

“Great.” After a curt nod, Harley shoulder her bag and approached the bike. It was even more beautiful this close. She could smell the engine oil and longed to feel the bike purr. Killmonger pulled a smirk as she swung her leg over the bike seat and grabbed onto him, resting as little of her body as she could against his back. With a tap to his stomach to tell him she was situated, Killmonger really smiled as he started the bike with a roar.

The duo made it onto the open road in a cloud of dust, both of them reveling in the sound of the engine. There was something about riding west, the wind whipping around them, the sun beaming on their backs that made the both of them feel…whole. Not in a way that family or relationships bring, in the way that solitude could promise anything but loneliness. For a moment, Harley and Killmonger breathed as one. After all they both wanted the same thing. To find Ayana. And maybe a bit more. But for the first part, they drove west, past the mountain range and into the Cactacae Forest.

Juvian Sparrows survived on the liquid they could pull from the cactus and the few flowers the cacti bothered to grow. The cacti in this forest were known to bloom under the light of the moon, and anyone knew that a spirit touched by the moon could do amazing things.

The two barreled up the only road in the copse of towering cacti, saguaro’s on one side, and prickly pears blooming on the other. Killmonger took in the pointed orbs behind reflective shades, and Harley thought they reminded her of something, or someone. Monger rolled to a stop as the road fell to the overgrowth of a wildly growing barbary fig. A few small hedgehog cacti sat below it, small and plump with their bright white flowers.

“Look’s like we’ll have to walk the rest.”

“And where exactly is the rest wi––” Killmonger caught himself and shook the word out of his head. “Harley. Where is the rest Harley?”

“According to my research, about 5 miles in.” Harley’s research hadn’t been entirely scholarly. She remembered some of the legends of the Juvian Sparrow, and followed their trail. Apparently, the bird liked to rest on the highest spike of the largest golden barrel cactus in the forest.

“We’d better get going. We only have until noon.”

“Noon?” Harley only nodded, already having brushed past Killmonger to tread deeper into the forest. The time constraint was something she tried to ignore, Finding the sparrow would be hard enough, she didn’t need the added pressure of watching the clock. Besides, they had almost a week until the full moon. They’d be fine.

—l—

Earth Stream 947: October 21, 2040

1:23AM

Hazel had never met a witch. Especially not one so small. Bug was tiny. Teeny tiny if she was being descriptive. Point is, the baby girl didn’t look like any witch she’d ever seen on tv and movies. She was a kid. A kid that could apparently bring her through a faery ring into another world. Though that information didn’t matter much now, all Hazel needed to know was how to get back.

“You can send her through the faery ring first. She’ll be fine.” The Queen Mother said this so nonchalantly that Hazel almost believed her. The question tripped out of her mouth anyways.

“How will she know what to do? She’s an infant.”

“She did find her way into another world. Seems to me like she’s a natural.” Shuri said this with a grin and a shrug, tickling Bug with lightening fast fingers. She giggled so much Hazel thought she might shift her skin right in her arms. Ramonda sighed before answering with an annoyed sort of gravitas.

“She’s a witch. This will come naturally to her. It’ll be as easy as breathing.” Fixing her gaze on Hazel, her lips pulled tight. “You are the one who should be worried. Humans don’t usually make it out of faery rings whole.” That statement was enough to stutter Hazel’s thoughts.

“Um, what?”

“They usually lose their minds. Or their limbs. Or both.” A shrug from the Queen Mother.

“Oh. Great. And how exactly would I prevent that?”

“You’ll need a talisman from your home world and a blessing from a fae. Blood would be best, but I doubt you’ll be able to get that in time. The full moon is almost here.”

“Okay two impossible things to get to keep my sanity and a time constraint. Easy peasy.” N’Jadaka, Angel and Shuri recoiled from Hazel’s last words, something about it sitting uneasily in their ears. Human’s are so strange.

“Don’t you have a talisman already? What’s that black rectangle you carry in your pocket?”

“My phone?”

“That’s a phone in your world?” Shuri found herself feeling sorrier and sorrier for the human. In her world that tech was old they didn’t even call it tech.

“Okay you’ve got the talisman, does anybody know a faery?” N’Jadaka did his best to keep his annoyance at bay. The Queen Mother was only helpful when it suited her, and he needed all of the information up front if he wanted to get his life back. Humans are, in a word? Cumbersome. Not to mention the kid. Terra loved her sure, but she didn’t belong in this world. Neither of them did.

“I might know a guy who knows a guy. As long as you don’t mind a trip south.” Angel’s voice treaded lightly into the space between the group, unsure of her status. The Queen Mother wasn’t exactly what she was expecting; regal and enchanting for sure, but a little colder than she was hoping for. N’Jadaka might have been right about meeting your heroes.

“How far south?”

“You know where I’m from.” Angel shrugged as she answered N’Jadaka. They had started talking when she first made it to the Golden Fang and hadn’t really stopped since. The pair knew a lot about each other by now.

“Uh, I don’t.” Humans.

—l—

Earth Stream 245: October 21, 2040

7:16AM

“So, I just have to wait and see if she comes back on the next full moon?” Erik didn’t like the sound of that.

“From what I can gather, yeah.” Nakia’s voice crackled over the line, and though the words were no help the sound of her voice was a comfort. Erik was at the end of his rope, and this call transported him back in time.

When they were in university, Erik, Nakia and Okoye were a set. Most of the campus referred to them as the ‘Three Musketeers’ though Okoye curled her lip at the lack of ingenuity and Erik rejected the name for the sheer fact that the French were colonizers. Finals season had always been hard on Erik, quietly desperate to excel, and Nakia had always been the one to talk him down from 48 hour study sessions and coax him into sleep. Her voice took on that same tone now.

“Kia, I can’t just wait around.” He’d been waiting for nearly a month. Jules Fay had been waiting.

“I had a feeling you were going say that.” Nakia wondered if there would ever come a day when Erik would be patient. She supposed if there did she should get him to a doctor.

“So give me another option.”

“You said yourself that she’s a smart girl. I’m sure that no matter where she is, she’ll figure it out.”

“I made a promise––”

“You always do Erik.” Ever since he’d started as a PI, Erik made it a point to promise his clients a resolution. He always delivered, even if it wasn’t pretty.

“Nakia I have to do something.” This case was burning a hole in the pit of his stomach. The fact that the girl had gone to another dimension meant nothing to Erik. He still had a case to solve, and getting her back was his first priority. Answers would come after, but he needed her back here, in this world. Jules Fay needed her back too.

“Well go talk to the witch doctor again! He’s the one that came up with the theory in the first place.” Erik didn’t like the idea of going back, but it was all he had. Besides, Nakia was rarely wrong.

—l—

Earth Stream 947: October 15, 2040

5:14PM

Two days of traveling in the car had Terra and Bug growling at each other playfully while Hazel read all she could about Faeries. N’Jadaka, Angel and Hazel were the only “adults” on the journey. Shuri protested being left behind, especially when N’Jadaka brought Terra and Hazel refused to leave Bug alone, but the Queen Mother insisted.

“This will be a lean journey Shuri. They’re on a deadline after all.” No pressure or anything.

N’Jadaka spent most of the drive south staring between Angel and Hazel, marveling at their mere existence. The two were clearly similar, most would guess twins and they acted like it too. N’Jadaka would know, he’d met his fair share of vampire twins. Still, they weren’t just similar, in looks they were exactly the same. Even through Angel’s sweet soucouyant accent certain words the pair said were identical. From the pull of their jaw to the tenor that vibrated from their lips.

“N’Jadaka, are you done staring at us, or do you need another few minutes?” Angel question with a smirk, pearly fangs flashing in her laughter as Hazel whipped her head up in shock.

N’Jadaka for the most part wasn’t cowed. So he got caught staring at a beautiful vamp. He’s gotten caught doing worse. Still, he turned his attention to Hazel before Angel could get another rise out of him. He didn’t like the way she pulled every… emotion, laugh, smile, grimace, everything out of him with a turn of her lips. Pushing his black leather boot to kick Hazel’s paint and sticker covered sneakers he asked.

“Why are you reading that?” Hazel did her absolute best to ignore the fact that she was the knife cutting the UST between N’Jadaka and Angel, and answered with a finger pointed to the title. Fae, Fairies, and Earthen Magic.

“Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t.” For all intents and purposes, Hazel knew nothing about the blessing she was supposed to get. She’d never even knew there was a difference between fairies and faeries. N’Jadaka let out a laugh at her reasoning.

“We’re all the Devil’s creatures. Haven’t you heard?” He smiled that extra wide grin that made his fangs gleam. Hazel repressed a shudder, knowing N’Jadaka was doing this to be annoying. He did the same thing to Shuri all of the time.

“Are you always this unhelpful or is this a special occasion?”

“I am when you’re reading books that old.”

“Shuri game it to me. She said it might help.” Hazel had a hard time believing that Shuri would do anything to lead her off track. The girl had been so kind to Hazel this whole time. She’d been the one to explain all of the tech shit, kimoyo beads being the most important.

“Sorry to say, Shuri might be wrong on this one. This book is older than my grandma, and she’s like twelve centuries old.” Angel said this with a small shrug, sliding the book out of Hazels hands, leaving her grasping.

“Well what exactly should I be doing because I am the only one at rick of losing an undisclosed amount of limbs or my sanity in this faery ring!”

Hazel had done her absolute best to stay calm. She really had, but her heart flinched every time Bug shifted into her jaguar fur, and she shuddered every time some vampire dropped their fangs on the street. None of this was normal, or her normal, and it was all starting to add up. Angel could see her counterpart beginning to crack and tossed the book at N’Jadaka, ignoring the grunt he released, to pull Hazel into her side.

“I’m not saying you can’t do research but this book is way too old. Faeries have changed, hell, all creatures have changed since this was written. Change, evolve, adapt. It’s what we do, It’s in our nature.

“So I’m just supposed to fly blind?”

“No, but we won’t let anything happen to you or the little shifter. You’re safe with us.” Hazel shook her head even as Angel extended her own kimoyo beads towards her. They didn’t get it. They didn’t understand that all of this was life and death for Hazel. Hell, she had a hard time understanding that herself. Angel let Hazel wallow for only a minute, knocking her with her shoulder.

“Hazel, do you trust yourself?”

“Well yeah.” Out of everyone here, she trusted herself the most. Sure she somehow got sucked into another world, but she’d been smart enough to keep herself alive up till now.

“Then trust me. I’m basically you.” Angel finished her declaration with a smile, and Hazel couldn’t help but bark a laugh. She wasn’t entirely wrong.

“Fine.” Angel clapped and took a peak out of the window.

“Good, and not a minute too soon. We’re here!”

—l—

Earth Stream 245: October 21, 2040

7:16AM

“You need to call her.”

“Oh hello Okoye, so great to see you, please come in.” Okoye rolled her eyes and placed a cup of hot coffee on Erik’s desk. His attempts at making coffee were shitty at best.

“Erik, you need more help.” He raised the cup in thanks before taking a sip. Black and burning hot, just how he liked it.

“I don’t. I have you.”

“This is more than I can handle. Erik. Call Nakia, ask her to come down for this.”

“I’m not going to pull her away from the work she ‘actually loves’. Besides I already called her. She gave me whack advice.”

“Oh will you get over yourself?! You two had that fight years ago and you’re still licking your wounds. both of you! “

“I’m not––” A knock interrupted what was sure to be another lie from Erik and Okoye was grateful.

Jules Fay waited at the door, hand poised to knock again. It fell to her side as Erik pulled her into his office, guiding her to a seat and offering her water or juice. Anything but his shitty coffee. She waved it all away.

“I came to see if you’ve found anything about Hazel?”

“I’m sorry Ms. Fay, I haven’t yet. most of my investigation has come up inconclusive but I still have a few more leads to follow.” He didn’t have a few more leads to follow, but he couldn’t tell Jules Fay his working theory either.  

“If it’s money, I don’t have much but I can––” Erik waved off her words, walking around his desk to kneel in front of her. On his knees, he was nearly eye to eye with the woman. He could see fear in her eyes, exhaustion, and worry. He wanted to make all of that go away. He promised to make all of that go away. He would make good on his promise. By the full moon, he would get Hazel back to her mother. Somehow.

“Ms. Fay, it’s nothing like that. I assure you I’m working to find Hazel, it’s just that her case is particularly different than the others I’ve investigated.” A silent nod from Jules had Erik speaking again, if only to fill the silence. “I made you a promise and I intend to keep it. I will find Hazel.”

“Of course he will, he’s assembled the best team in the country.” Nakia entered Erik’s office, the third person today to come in uninvited.

“Ms. Fay, Erik is the best at what he does. We’re going to find your daughter.” Jules Fay nodded with more confidence. Nakia had that effect on people. The woman who had assured her that Hazel would be found oozed a confidence she had never seen, and there was no choice but to believe her. Jules Fay was out the door before long, and Erik raised brow at Nakia.

“You always knew how to make an entrance.”

“And I haven’t missed a beat.” Nakia mirror his gaze, raising her brow in return. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

—l—

Earth Stream 328: October 25, 2040

5:06AM

They were decidedly not fine. Killmonger grew more impatient by the day and Harley was starting to lose hope. They hadn’t even seen a Juvian Sparrow, let alone caught one. Cacti bloomed and grew before them as they waited each day, coming earlier and earlier when Harley read that Juvian Sparrows are easiest to find in the dawn. The pair tried everything they could, approaching from different angles, splitting up, setting traps, and still no sparrow bones.

They were running out of time and they could feel it. Each night on their drive home the moon appeared fuller and fuller. If they were ever going to get Ayana back, they needed to find that sparrow today or else Harley would need another plan. Harley and Monger made it to the forest before the sun began painting the sky. Harley took a moment to send a prayer up to the falling moon and marveled at the stars winking above.

They trudged through the forest in silence for a while, doing their best to avoid the pricks of the cacti around them. Sometimes they weren’t so lucky. Harley hadn’t said anything, but Killmonger knew that this was the day. The Last day they’d be able to search for this Bast forsaken bird. If they didn’t find it, well Killmonger wasn’t quite sure he wanted to know what Harley had in mind. he had a feeling it would churn his stomach.

“Did you know Ayana’s mother well?” Harley’s voice pulled Monger out of his thoughts. It was softer than he expected from a witch, but then again, Harley was turning a lot of his preconceived notions on their head.

“Well enough.”

“Was she…a shifter?”

“I…I don’t know.” Harley’s question was cautious and Monger tried to remember more than her brown skin and his bedsheets. He couldn’t.

“So you didn’t know her well.” Monger rolled his eyes at Harley’s remark. Maybe she was right but he didn’t have to admit that. Not now at least.

“Look, I don’t know what she was, but she had power.”

“Like magic?”

“Like I don’t know what. Why do you care?”

“Because, kids take after their parents. We already know Ayana is a shifter but if her mother was a––” Harley stopped before the word witch could fall from her lips. Monger had done a good job of respecting her, he’d even seemed to thaw to her for a bit, but she didn’t want to push it. Not now at least.

“If her mother had power, then it stands to reason that Ayana has that same power. Add the magic that crackles through the town and our girl is a ticking magical time bomb.” Monger pushed down the warmth that bloomed around his heart at Harley’s indication that Ayana was ‘their girl’ and tried to process what exactly she was saying. If Ayana’s mother had turned out to be some kind of creature, then…well that could mean anything. The possibilities scared Monger the most.

“You do know that I didn’t send Ayana anywhere right?”

“I––You’re the only witch around my kid. What was I supposed to think?” Harley was happy to hear the hint of regret in Monger’s voice.

“That I love and cherish her just as much as you do and would never let anything happen to her!”

“Well I didn’t know that then!”

“Well you know it now. Don’t fucking forget it Monger.”

“I’m only letting that slide because your stupid fairytale is sitting on that goddamned cactus.”

“What?” Harley’s voice dropped to a whisper as her head whipped towards the center of the field. There on the largest barrel cactus in the forest was the Juvian Sparrow. The birds wings were black as the night, but seemed to be changing as the sun rose, red rising through its body as the sun glided into the sky. It cocked it’s head this way and that, and Harley held her breath. When it looked away, she released it. She turned to Monger and before Harley could blink, Killmonger was an elegant, golden beast.  

—l—

Earth Stream 245: October 25, 2040

10:14AM

Zuri had that feeling again. It was a tug at his gut, a reminder that there was more to come. That someone would be coming. A pinch between his eyes, that signaled him this would require more than a cursory conversation. This would need him to use his brain, encourage him to think and hypothesize. Excitement thrummed through him. He rarely had feelings like this.

Erik, Okoye and Nakia wandered into Badu’s Botany with hopes the shouldn’t have bothered to bring. Erik had warned them that the man was eccentric to say the least. The pair didn’t believe Erik, and why should they. The man was a scientist, a brilliant one at that. They had no reason to think of him otherwise. The wealth of potted plants was their first indication that what Erik said was true. The wind chimes at the door were the second. As they studied the shop, with its figurines and paper piles, the evidence only grew.

The detective was back. Energy shot through Zuri’s body as the bell ringed above the door. He knew the man was searching for someone, the girl that slept with beasts. From the looks of things, he hadn’t found her.

“Detective Stevens. a pleasure to see you again.” He nodded to Okoye and Nakia. “Ladies…”

“Ten years ago, you wrote a paper. A Study of Universal Convergence.”

“I did.”

“Have you found anything that proves your theory?

“Have you?”

“A girl is missing. If you know something, anything––”

“Dr. Badu.” Zuri still at the name. No one had called him doctor in a long time, but Nakia pressed on. “We’re looking for someone who we think…fell into another world. We need to get her back. as soon as possible.”

“Trust in the universe. The moon is her daughter, she’ll see the girl home.” Erik scoffed at the man. If he ‘trusted in the universe’ he’d still be seven years old, waiting for his father to breathe again.

“Forget it. I should have known this would be a waste of time.” Erik couldn’t believe he’d wasted precious time talking to this…ugqirha.

“Don’t worry detective. She will fall into the nest of her making soon enough.” Erik pushed out of the door so hard the chimes screamed his exit.

—l—

Earth Stream 947: October 25, 2040

12:49PM

The Isle, like plenty of other things in this world, is unlike anything Hazel has ever seen. Not technically an island, the large land mass was surrounded by water on three sides, so the name stuck. There was also the matter of the water that flowed through it. Rivers and streams parted the land like hair, slicing through the sandy brush and practically glowing blue. Hazel had only ever seen water that blue in pictures.

Two vampires, a human, a shifter, and a sleek golden jaguar tumbled out of the car and into a boat. Angel’s manager sputtered as she shut the door in his face with a placating wave.

“Rocko, I’ll be fine. If I’m not back in 3 days, call search and rescue, otherwise I don’t want to hear you on my line.” The boat sped off before we could hear his response.

“Where to Miss Haze?” Angel didn’t seem alarmed that the boat driver knew who she was. In fact, she grinned and patted him on the back. N’Jadaka watched their contact with an eagle eye.

“I need to see an old friend.” The driver nodded, and with that they were on their way.

The streams were like side streets, the rivers like highways. Hazel wondered at the houses that stood tall and covered the land mass they reseted on, making them look like they were floating structures instead of tiny islands cut to creation by the waters that ran through the Isle. N’Jadaka stared hard at the driver, wondering how he knew exactly what Angel wanted, before he shook himself out of his jealousy and turned his attention back to the situation at hand. They were pulling up to a bar, if you could call it that. There was no signage, nothing to signify that this wasn’t the shack of a murderer, but Angel hopped out with glee. She gave the driver a tip and a kiss on the cheek and gestured for the group to follow her.

The group pushed through the sorry excuse for a door, wooden slats stapled together and moving on a pair of rusted hinges. Inside it was hazy and red. Sunlight filtered through the holes in the walls, only covered by thin white sheets, and blood red couches littered the space around a small stage. More of a platform really. A duo on an electric piano and colorful soundboard crooned something in what sounded like French, and Hazel took in the scene. Vampires lounged on the couches, velvety and soft, a few humans were bleeding, but other than that, nothing nefarious was happening. Maybe she came at the right time.

“Well slap my cat and call me Lucifer! Forgive me if I’m mistaken, but you young lady, look awfully familiar.”

“Nix.” The man in question approached Angel with open arms and a grin that showed off his platinum fangs. As he got closer, Hazel could see that all of his teeth were platinum. Angel couldn’t keep the grin off of her face. Between touring and writing and producing and life, she’d missed her childhood friend. She’d missed home.

“Well if it isn’t Little Miss Hazie.” The two were a gathering of brown skin and strong arms as they hugged tightly.

Nixie.” He scrunched his nose at the nickname, pulling away from there hug as N’Jadaka tamped down the jealousy the bubbled up in his gut.

“Yeah yeah, you’re too cool for that nickname, owning your own blood club and shit.”

“Well shit, I thought for a second you were a ghost, but not with a mouth like that.” The pair erupted into laughter, and N’Jadaka let them laugh for a minute before clearing his throat. Something about Angel’s smile was different here. Her eyes closed a bit more, her nose scrunched tighter, her shoulders fell back in laughter. She looked more than relaxed. She looked happy. Happier than she had been in Metropolis.

“Right. Sorry guys.” Angel righted herself and Nix. “You got an office?” Nix shook his head.

“I’ve got a bar.”

“Close enough.” As the group approached the bar, Terra prowling close to N’Jadaka with Bug on her back, Angel and Nix spoke in animated tones. Hazel couldn’t understand a word they were saying, though she wasn’t quite sure they’d switched languages, it was more like they had fallen into a vernacular that she wasn’t quite familiar with. Something southern and black and french? Though she couldn’t even be sure France existed in this world.

“Now Haze, I’ve known you for a long time, and never once did you mention having a twin.” Nix busied himself with wiping the bartop, obsidian black flecked in gold, and pulling a few glasses down.  

“She’s not my twin, she is me.”

“Care to explain?” Before Angel could elaborate A tall stocky vampire, with milk white skin sauntered into the bar. Most of the patrons turned their backs on the guy, returning to the conversations with a fervor. A few stronger looking vampires pushed off from their place on the walls of the bar and stood tall. The man in question either didn’t notice the reaction or didn’t care as he sauntered up to the bar.

“Nix! Serving straight from the source now? Very nice touch.” Angel and N’Jadaka pushed Hazel behind them and bared their teeth at the stranger.

“Clive. These are my guests, you’d do well to treat them as such.”

“Well what about that little lamb?” The man shucked his chin to Bug, still sat on Terra’s back in her jaguar fur. “I’ve always loved veal.”

“Back off Clive. You can order something on the menu or you can go. Either one suits me.” Nix balled his fist on the granite bartop and Clive sneered a grin. He knocked on the granite, flashed his fangs at Hazel and sauntered out of the club.

Angel released a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She’d promised to protect Hazel, and she didn’t take her promises lightly. N’Jadaka could see that Angel was shaken, and took the lead no explaining things, still keeping Hazel behind him and beckoning Terra closer. Sure the human and shifter were annoying, but they’d grown on him. And he was almost rid of them, it would suck for something to happen before they completed their little ‘quest’.

“We need to find a faerie. Preferably a nice one.” Nix blew out a big breath at Angel’s request.

“Tall order kid. I’ll give you the info you want. For a price of course.” Though his words were serious his tone was teasing and Angel couldn’t fault his hustle. Keeping a blood club this nice in the Isle couldn’t be cheap.

“What do you want Nix?”

“You got any old tour merchandise?”

“Seriously?” Of all the things she expected, this was not it. She had plenty of that shit locked up in storage, it was an easy trade.

“You seem to forget just how popular you are little Haze. Vintage shit sells like crazy.” With a few dozen shirts, Nix could expand the club and improve the sound system all the while investing in a few local businesses he personally wanted to see flourish.

“I’ll have it sent to the location of your choice as soon as you give me what I want.” Angel wasn’t worried about the merch or the money, she knew Nix would use most of it for the good of the community. Under all of his tough, bar owner exterior, he was a nice vamp. She would know, she grew up with him.

“His name’s Roaen and he lives in The Sink.”

—l—

Earth Stream 328: October 25, 2040

6:19AM

Killmonger and the Juvian Sparrow danced. Monger leaping silently and landing on the tips of his paws and the sparrow, fluttering like its life depended on it. It did after all. Harley watched in awe of the pair. Each time the sparrow flew above the cacti, she could see the dark night sky under its wings, once she even thought she saw stars twinkling in the feathers. She was just about to give up, and try to find another when when the bird squawked. Monger had it between his teeth, fangs bared and pinching.

The Juvian Sparrow never made another sound, even as monger snapped its neck and set it on the gritty ground. As quickly as he had become a jaguar, Killmonger shifted back into his human form. Of course that meant he was standing naked in the morning sun, blood streaking his chin and golden fangs glinting beneath his lips. Harley pushed her focus onto the bird, ignoring the way his perfectly brown skin gleamed in the sunlight.

“Okay, so, there’s your bird.”

“Alright.” The pair stood there staring at each other. Harley waiting for Killmonger to shift, and Monger waiting for Harley to do something…magical. Then the pair spoke at the same time.

“Well aren’t you going to––”

“Can’t you just use magic to––” Harley gestured for Killmonger to finish.

“Can’t you just use magic to get the bones?”

“The spell won’t work if I use magic to procure the ingredients. I can’t upset the balance like that, not if I’m asking for something in return.”

Years ago, when she had first discovered magic and powers and spells, Harley attempted a prosperity spell. Or rather, she summoned a load of cash to use for a school field trip her parents told her they couldn’t afford. With a candle and a wish, the money appeared to her and she took it. She never blew out the candle or thanked the elements for bringing her the money, never once thought about where the money came from at all, but as she found, especially in magic, you can’t get something from nothing.

In the end the money ended up burning a hole in her pocket, literally. She buried it deep within in the earth, giving it back to the soil to do with it what it may. She didn’t go on the field trip, and she didn’t try another spell until she turned 18 and began her own grimoire.

“Everything about magic is reciprocal. I can’t upset that balance.” Monger looked dumbfounded.

“So magic has rules?” Harley waved her hand in the universal sign for ’50/50’ as she responded.

“More like follow the laws of nature and you’ll be fine.”

“Well it’s a good thing I shifted back. I have a feeling I’ll need opposable thumbs for this.” Harley rolled her eyes at the ridiculous statement but Monger didn’t miss the smile that curled on her lips. He liked it.

—l—

Earth Stream 245: October 26, 2040

2:57PM

The trio ended up at Oakies, seated at the bar and shooting the shit, just like old times. The bar was a classic jet black, polished to perfect and currently clear of any patrons. It might have been a little early for a drink, but after their visit to the witch doctor, they all needed a drink. The couple on stage wailed about dead men walking over a country guitar.

Won’t do me no good washin’ in the river. Can’t no preacher man save my soul.

They all had their drinks. None of them had changed their orders, though today, they all ordered an extra set of shots. Erik eyed the glasses slid on the table. A Pimm’s Cup for Nakia, whisky from the highest shelf for Erik, and for Okoye…To be honest Erik still had no idea what Okoye was drinking, but he stayed away from her glass either way. The one time he took a sip from her cup, he woke up the next morning with no recollection of the night before.

“So do you think he’s right?” Okoye didn’t know what to say about Zuri Badu. At the very least the man was an enigma and Okoye had been out of her depth with this case since Erik stepped foot on her campus. At this point, she was just along for the ride.

“About?”

“Letting the universe work itself out? It’s not like he said much more. The man wasn’t exactly a sparkling conversationalist.” Erik was still bitter about that part. He had hoped he would learn more about Badu’s working theory of converging universes, but the man had been just as ambiguous as before.

“That is an understatement.”

“So E, answer the question, what do you think?”

“I don’t know what to think Kia. The man speaks in riddles. Do I feel like he told us something useful? Maybe, but I’m not sober enough or drunk enough to decipher it.” With that, Erik slammed his shot back and waved for another. Zuri had plenty to say, but none of it made sense to Erik. He wasn’t nearly as poetic as he needed to be if he was going to solve this case by the full moon.

“Well I think he was telling us to prepare for her. ‘She will fall into the nest of her making’ and ‘The moon will see her home’? That’s not telling us to sit around and wait. It’s a promise. She’ll be back on the full moon, and we have to be ready for her. You have to be ready for her Erik.” Nakia had seen Erik at his worst, and this surpassed it. By a mile. Or two. She’d never seen him so broken up about a case.

“Okay. So I go back to the Golden Fang and I just wait? What about all of the people?” After three days, Erik had recommended that Jules Fay take her case to the police as well. Just to have it on file. He had no doubt that they would screw things up, and the Ortega precinct did not disappoint. They turned the alleyway into a media circus. People were always there, taking pictures right where ‘that girl disappeared’.  

“Try and get it cordoned off. Remember, we’re supposed to rid the location of any malicious beings.”

“Right.” Erik knew what he would have to do to get that alleyway cordoned off for the night of the full moon. Nakia knew he knew too. She also knew he’d drink about five more shots before acknowledging it.

“You should call the Chief.” Erik slammed back another shot. He’d already made up his mind to go visit him tomorrow.

—l—

Earth Stream 947: October 26, 2040

11:09PM

The Sink isn’t actually a sink, Hazel was relieved to find. According the Angel, the Sink was in the center of the island. Angel led the four of them out of Nix’s bar and waved her hand as a few boats whizzed by before one stopped for them. N’Jadaka handed the driver the money before Angel could even bother and she stuck out her tongue. She was the popstar and the one with a doppelgänger apparently. She could pay for a boat ride.

Angel told the driver where to go in her soucouyant tongue. To Hazel and N’Jadaka the words were a garbled birdsong, confusing but enchanting all the same. There was just something about the way the words rolled off her lips that kept their attention. Hazel would have thought that she was a siren if she didn’t know any better. Being in this world for nearly a month meant that she does know better.

This boat driver wasn’t as tactile as the other, but Hazel thinks its because N’Jadaka was staring the guy down. Still, they floated their way towards the center of the Isle, passing houses and shops and even a floating hospital. As they travelled on, the buildings grew sparse. Trees grew wider and wilder, enormous frogs bumped into the boat hard enough to rock it, dolphins puttered through the water and the world grew quiet. Verdant foliage obscured the ground, and eyes peeked through the underbrush. Not silent, Hazel could still hear the crickets chirping and the waves cresting, but everything was quiet. Calm.

The driver docked at the shore of a tiny house. It was built of stone, with a wooden door and a paneless window. A few pieces of the thatched roof scratched at the house as the quintet unloaded. Terra prowled a close perimeter and returned with a snuff. Whatever she had found, she didn’t like. Bug seemed to feel the same way as she squirmed in Hazel’s arms. Soon enough the baby was on the ground, shifting into her jaguar fur and being nipped up by Terra.

“Come on.” Angel had heard of the faeries in the Sink. She’d never met one, but there’s a first time for everything.

The group padded to the door slowly. Angel knocked, and they waited. And waited. The moon was high in the sky for a moment Hazel wondered if they all shared the same one. The door creaked open before she could think any more of it.

“Uh, woah.”

The little thatch cottage was not so little, and not nearly as quaint as the exterior alluded to. A vast room stretched before them. The room with its shiny cherry wood floors, divine golden mirrors, and creatures of all kinds, could not be real. It was at least three times as large as the cottage itself. There was just no way.

“Don’t sound so impressed Hazel, this is faery magic.” N’Jadaka whispered this to Hazel, but the point was moot. He was surrounded by beings with heightened abilities.

“You scorn the name of my people and yet you come to me with a request. Interesting introduction N’Jadaka Udaku.” Angel cringed. They already had an impossible ask, and N’Jadaka was not making things easier. Any other time, she admired his snark, but now it was killing them.

“I assume you’re Roaen.”

The man in question was draped in women. Hazel wasn’t even positive he was wearing clothes. All she could see was brown butter skin and animal print. He was lounging on a tiger fur, and the women around him all wore that same print. Roaen gave a nod to Angel’s statement, and Hazel was taken aback.

Aside from the fact that she’d never even seen a faery before, he wasn’t as small as Hazel expected. Faeries in her world had always been perceived as tiny, cute, bell like beings with adorably short tempers. This guy was…not tiny by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, he was built like a house. Young, but carrying himself with the weight of a thousand years. Not dissimilar from N’Jadaka, though Hazel was smart enough to keep that thought to herself.

“I am.”

Roaen stood, and the fur beneath him took shape, morphing into a tiger. The dress the girl was wearing did the same and she was left naked, peering up at the man with hazy eyes. Jagged grey wings unfurled from his back, the only ugly thing on the man, and he jerked his head to the side. A signal for the girl to leave.

“Is he?” Hazel nodded to Bug who was lounging on Terra’s back, but N’Jadaka shook his head. The man wasn’t a shifter, just a faery. Magic is a powerful tool. Angel stepped forward discreetly, pushing Hazel behind her.

“Dia dhuit ársa amháin.” Roaen’s brow raised at the use of his native tongue, as mangled as it was, and responded with a grin. He loved messing with the young ones.

“Well, well, well. Two vampires, a human, and a shifter walk into a bar. There’s got to be a punchline there somewhere.”

“I––” Angel stuttered for something to say. This was her turf after all. “Arsa ársa, táimid tar éis teacht ar do bheannacht.”

“I’ll give you whatever you want as long as you stop butchering my language with your soucouyant accent. Dia.” Roaen laughed, and continued before Angel could close her gaping mouth. “Y’all must be in some deep shit to need a blessing from me.”

N’Jadaka, Angel and Hazel all exchanged a look. A look that debated on telling this stranger the truth. A look that implored the others to be reasonable. A look that annoyed the faery standing before them.

“Would you like me to leave?”

“Oh no Mr. Faery––Roaen––Uh, sir.” After that, the words fell out of Hazel’s mouth like apples shaken from a tree. By the end, she was winded. “So, I need your blessing to stay sane.”

“Interesting indeed.” A pause. “I’ll do it, but you need to do something for me. Quid pro quo and all of that stuff.” Hazel nodded. “I need you to get me a stone from the bottom of the Middle Well.”

The Middle Well was dangerous. At least, that’s what Angel had always been told. The well itself was rumored to be gorgeous, tranquil, enchanting, but Angel had never met anyone who had seen it first hand. No creature ever wanted to bother with the place. It was steeped in bad energy. Even N’Jadaka knew the tales of the south. That the Middle Well was more than just a scenic view, that it was a passage. An access point for those in the afterlife. That was no place for Hazel. No place for a human at all.

“No. No way. She is not diving down there.” Angel knew the faery would ask for something, but she figured it would be money, or tour merch, not this. The Middle well has no bottom. No creature has ever made it out of that water alive, let alone returned with a stone.

“Angel, I’m sure it’s not––”

“Hazel, you don’t even know what you’re agreeing to. That well is on faery land. You don’t know what you’re risking.” The stories Angel’s mother told her as a child were more than that. They were second hand accounts, memories of friends who had dived in for fun and never returned. “It’s a suicide mission.”

“It’s true that the well was built on the land of my people, but the well itself was made by the hands of hers.” Roaen nodded to Hazel lazily. “Humans built that well, and as such, we magical creatures have a hard time pulling from that place. Her on the other hand, should be fine.” Angel and N’Jadaka knew faeries couldn’t lie, but Roaen only said that she should be fine. That is not enough of a guarantee. Not by a long shot.

“Should be––” N’Jadaka had done his best to hold his tongue, he really had, but things were spiraling.

“There has to be another way––” Angel couldn’t let this happen. She couldn’t let her alternate self die. They had to find another way out of this––

“I’ll do it.” Hazel had been silent through most of the argument, letting Angel take the reigns. She was just a human after all. Apparently, in this instance, that worked in her favor.

“Hazel you can’t––”

“Angel, do you trust yourself?”

“Of course.”

“Then trust me. I’m basically you.” Angel relented to Hazel’s weak smile and shrug, hating that her words worked against her. She’d just have to find a way to keep her alternate self alive. No pressure.

—l—

Earth Stream 328: October 26, 2040

8:18AM

“Alright, I’ll pluck it and you shuck it.” Monger would be damned if he had to do all of the work for this witch. In all honesty, he didn’t mind the hunt, the early morning rides, even the cacti, but he needed a resolution. This bird was the key to Ayana and he’d done more than his fair share.

“I don’t know how to do that!” Harley’s frustration oozed out of her words, though it wasn’t all directed towards Monger. This may be the first time she wished she knew how to debone a bird, but that didn’t make the feeling any less true. Up until now, Killmonger had done all of the work and it irked her to no end that she still needed help.

“You’re a witch, ain’t dismemberment in your blood?”

“Oh fuck off Monger.”

“You seriously don’t know?”

“No. I never had a teacher okay?” Oma and Shuri were the closest Harley had come to having any sort of mentors, and they were a 4 hour ride away.

“So how did you learn control?” Killmonger wasn’t stupid. Sure he blamed Ayana’s disappearance on Harley, but at this point even he knew that was bullshit. There were bigger things at play here and he’d seen Harley’s powers enough to know that she had a good grip on them. He’d watched her play with Ayana, pulling rabbits from behind rocks and making the sand shine as she blew it from her fingertips. Harley had control, and if she didn’t have a teacher, how did she get it?

“I had to teach myself for the most part. My siblings helped sometimes. Sort of.” Harley cringed at the memory of performing magic in front of her family. The required love that lasted until you moved out of the family house, or were kicked out. Whichever one came first.

“Well come over and I’ll teach you.”

—l—

Earth Stream 947: October 26, 2040

11:09PM

Hazel knew clicking her heels with a chorus of ‘there’s no place like home’ wouldn’t be the thing to get her back to her own life, but she didn’t expect diving for some stone would be the answer either. She supposed she shouldn’t have even tried to guess at this point. She was out of her depth, literally.

N’Jadaka made Roaen state the deal before they left. He’d mentioned to Hazel that even though Fae couldn’t lie, they still loved to omit things and play with promises. She was glad to see that N’Jadaka and Angel wouldn’t let that happen to her.

“The Middle Well was built by your kind. Or shall I say on your kind.” Roaen began his story as they trekked through the woods behind his home. The streams were small enough to hop over now and Hazel savored the crunch of the leaves as she jumped. Bug  and Terra were having a grand old time too.

“That does’t make sense.” Angel and N’Jadaka spoke in sync and Roaen rolled his eyes. He was surprised at how…dutifully they protected their human charge.

“The early humans, the ones here before vampires and shifters and phoenix’s, they had an idea about the afterlife. You see they studied the tides. The watched them give and take. They watched the waves roll out into the sun and they thought that that was the only way to Elysium. Through water, through the ocean.”

“When they found this land, laden with streams and rivers all rolling out into the ocean, they decided to craft a well. A funeral space basically. For centuries they burned the bodies of their dead, praying as the fire kissed them to ash. Then they came to the Middle Well, they sprinkled the ashes into the water and watched as the connecting streams and rivers pulled their loved ones away, away, and out to sea. Out to the sun, moon and stars.”

They made it. The Middle Well was not what Hazel expected. It didn’t look like a well at all, more like a pool. It was in the shape of a half moon, stones built up on the sides to guide the water. Four streams connected to the mouth of the well, pushing the water to ebb and flow.

“This doesn’t look deep enough to dive into.” Hazel had been swimming. Hell, she used to dive in high school and this pool was not nearly deep enough. She couldn’t exactly see the bottom of the pool, but there were only three stone steps leading into the pool. It couldn’t be deep enough.

“The last human I met here said promised it was plenty deep.”

“So you do this a lot to humans?” N’Jadaka couldn’t stand the faerie’s casual tone. If Hazel was about to dive to her death for some pebble, the guy could at least show some respect.

“This well may have been build by humans but it is on fae land. It’s deep enough.” Angel could see the tick in Roaen’s jaw. His annoyance was obvious and she wondered if her hid a monstrous face behind the pretty one they saw. For a moment, she wished she could see beyond his faery glamour. Just so she knew exactly what they were dealing with.

“Alright well, wish me luck.” Hazel had stripped down to her underwear while the vampires were studying Roaen. She padded to the stone steps and Bug did her best to follow her on four legs. She turned, pushing the cub back towards N’Jadaka and Angel. Terra came and grabbed her by the scruff. Then she sat at the top step with Bug, like they were already waiting for Hazel to return. Hazel didn’t bother looking at her promised protectors, knowing their worry wouldn’t help her now. Instead, she turned to Roaen.

“Just one stone?”

“Just one. Ádh mór.”

She waded into the pool slowly. Counting each stone step she took. After the third, the world dropped out from under her and she fell. N’Jadaka and Angel had to hold themselves back. They knew interference was against the rules. if the so much as touched that well, their whole deal could be nullified by Roaen.

Hazel drifted back to the surface of the clear water, doing her best to stay clam. She had no idea what she was doing, but she decided to tread towards the sides of the well, hoping to catch an errant stone from there. After about five minutes of scrambling with her hands, she made peace with the fact that there would be no shortcuts. Not on Faery land.

Three strokes brought her to the center of the pool. A deep, swimmers breath filled her lungs. Then, heart in her chest and eyes wide open, she dove. The water was cold, pricking at her skin as she pushed. Deeper and deeper she swam, knowing that in a while she’d be too deep to save herself. She hadn’t swam in a long time. She wasn’t nearly as strong as she used to be. Deeper and deeper still, and no stones. Not even moss, or frogs or kelp. Nothing lived down here.

Before she could turn back she heard something. A sigh, no, a scream. The sound rang through Hazel’s ears, clear as day. She swam deeper, towards the sound. Breathing was the least of her worries if someone was down there. A few strokes further and an image flashed across her eyes. A bloody chest, scaly tail, and a face like hers. Hazel pushed back, away from the image, but it was in her head. More started coming, more blood, more pain, more death. And it was all her, every different version of her as she died, crying and screaming and gurgling through their last moments.

Hazel felt paralyzed. She let the water pull her deeper as the visions flashed through her mind. She cried as she saw her death over and over and over. Hazel was trapped. Stuck in this well, a hostage to the universe’s plans for her alternate selves. Then her hand brushed something smooth. The feeling of something in this empty pool, anything was enough to shock Hazel out of her stupor. She grasped, and pulled a stone free. It came loose easily, and the visions stopped. No screaming or crying or blood.

She was free. Hazel kicked her way up, up, and up. Further and further as her vision faltered. Her heart was on overload, she wasn’t going to make it. She didn’t have enough breath in her body. She couldn’t have enough breathe in her body. It was humanly possible. Her vision blackened as she rev another push, and then she broke the surface. Sputtering, gasping, alive, Hazel made her way to the stone steps, rock in hand.

Roaen was there to pull her up, and he sat with her at the mouth of the well. He hovered his hand over her shivering body, and murmured something ancient. She followed his hand, and for a second she thought she saw claws. He continued, and she peered up at his face. It was hideous, half peeled and rotting. His blessing came at a cost to the both of them.

“There, you’re blessed.”

“That’s it?” Hazel could hardly believe it. She didn’t feel any different, but she wasn’t a faery either. Roaen nodded.

“Now, leave me. I’ll need some time to reconstruct my glamour.” Hazel nodded, noting how he never turned from her, keeping his back to everyone else. “Oh and one more thing,” He tossed the stone to Hazel. “Hold onto this. I have a feeling you might need it one day.”

—l—

Earth Stream 245: October 27, 2040

9:22AM

The Ortega precinct was just as quiet as Erik remembered. Kinsey and Roles were still at their desk through sour worms at each other, Coles was still color coding her reports, and Frig still sat in his sergeants chair taller than he should. The receptionist waved him in with a manicured nail and a bitten lip and Erik rolled his eyes. Every little thing reminding him exactly why he left the force.

He mocked a salute to Kinsey and Roles as he passed his and Okoye’s old desks, still empty. They weren’t bad cops, just goofy. Frig straightened even taller somehow nodding to Erik as he knocked on the Chief’s door. There was no nameplate glistening at the handle or glittering on the glass. Just shuttered bulletproof windows that vibrated when the Chief’s accented voice shouted ‘Enter.’

“Well if it ain’t my favorite detective. Stevens, how the hell are you boy?” Erik cringed like he always did when the chief called him ‘boy’, but exchanged pleasantries either way. After being ushered into a set before the Chief, Erik finally relaxed. This used to be his normal, bringing cases to the Chief’s office with Okoye and finding new angles, sitting before the Chief and groaning about the grind. Though it was comfortable, in the end, it wasn’t worth it, it wasn’t nearly enough for Erik or Okoye.

“Well then, what brings you by? I know you’re not here to rejoin the force.” The Chief stated this with a pained laugh, and Erik shrugged it off. He didn’t need to feel guilty for leaving.

“Chief Klaue. I need a favor.”

“What kind of favor?”

“Tomorrow night, I need you to cordon off the alley behind The Golden Fang.” Erik didn’t mention anything about full moons or alternate universes. He had a feeling The Chief would be less inclined to help if he though Erik had gone off of the deep end.

“That shitty club? Why?”

“I’m looking for someone.”

“Is that someone going to be in that club?” A breath and another question. “Stevens are you into anything illegal?”

“No Chief. This isn’t illegal.”

“Then why not go through the proper channels?” Erik rolled his eyes at the thought of getting a permit from City Hall. He’d been in his late eighties before the paperwork even went through.

“It’s for a case. A very time sensitive case.”

“A case that isn’t police business. Stevens I can’t just––” Klaue could, and Erik knew that. It’s why he was here in the first place. The Golden Fang was in his jurisdiction, and he only needed the alley blocked off for a night. He just needed it empty long enough for Hazel to…come back.

“I’ve never asked you for anything Chief. Not one damn time. Even when I was on the force. Trust me when I say I’ll never ask again, but I need you to do this. Officially.” Chief Klaue heaved a sigh. The damn boy was right. If this was the biggest thing his best detective could ask for, he’d better count his blessings.

“Fine. I hope you find who you’re looking for. And call me when you’re ready to rejoin the force Stevens. We miss you around here.”

—l—

Earth Stream 947: October 31, 2040

7:12PM

They pulled up to the Golden Fang as the sun was setting. The journey back had been…difficult to say the least. Bug started teething. Sure she had fangs as a jaguar, but her human teeth were pushing through now, and the girl was not happy. The car was filled with her pained cries as the supernatural creatures in the car stuffed their ears. Hazel did her best to placate the baby, eventually giving her her finger to naw on. It turned her cries into whimpers, and they were all grateful. The second they hit the blood club Hazel was behind the bar, filling a clean rag with ice cubes.

Finally. You’re back! I’ve been waiting ages! How did everything go?” Shuri paused. “Wait. What is wrong with her?”

“She’s teething Shuri.”

“Yikes.” She shuddered and turned to N’Jadaka. “So?”

“Well, we got the blessing.” Angel snorted at his tone. There wasn’t much ‘we’ about it, Hazel had done the heavy lifting, and she respected the human––her alternate self for that. N’Jadaka did too, though he’d be loathe to admit it.

“And just in time. Better hurry, the moon is almost up.”

The group made our way towards the back of the bar, standing at the door where Hazel first entered the Golden Fang. Bug had stopped crying, and she was chomping happily at the icy cloth in her mouth. Tear tracks dried on her face, but she looked more like she did when Hazel first found her.

“Okay, Queen Mother told me what to do, so…I’ve got this.” Shuri waved to Hazel and Bug. “I’ve got to put you two into a salt circle, so, uh…” Shuri pulled the pair into a hug, doing her best not to squeeze too tightly.

“Thanks for proving me right. Especially because I got to prove N’Jadaka wrong.” She winked and pranced back, making space for N’Jadaka and Angel. Terra barreled between them and pounced on Hazel. Tackling her and Bug into a hug. Hazel let the two play one last time as she turned to N’Jadaka and Angel.

“So, uh, thanks for not eating me the first time we met.” N’Jadaka’s mouth quirked in a smirk and he shrugged.

“You’re not really my type, but you’re a better human than I expected. Even if you are a little slow––” Angel cut off his teasing with a smack and pulled Hazel close.

“It was nice to meet you. Or well, me. You still have the stone right?” Hazel nodded reaching into her pocket to feel its smooth edges. “Good. That way, you can come back and visit.” Angel squeezed Hazel a little tighter, and stepped back, taking Terra and N’Jadaka with her.

“Okay. Moon’s almost up, We’ve got to move.”

Shuri positioned Hazel and Bug before the door. She drew a semi circle of salt around them, lighting four candles on the way. She spritzed them with moon water, and sent a prayer to Bast. Then, she turned to Hazel.

“You have your talisman right?”

“My phone? Yeah.” Hazel fished it out of her pocket and pressed the home button, still disappointed when the screen didn’t illuminate.

“Tragic.” Hazel rolled her eyes.

“Shuri.”

“Sorry, sorry. Okay, Hold your phone and think of your world. Only your world. When I open this door, I want you to step through, and let go of Bug.” Hazel’s eyes flashed to Shuri in alarm. She wasn’t just going to drop a baby.

“Trust me. She’ll make it back to her world and you’ll make it back to yours. This door opens the universe, so you have to stay focused on your world or you could end up somewhere else completely. Again.” Hazel nodded and gripped her phone. She gave Bug one last glance and a kiss on the forehead. She’d miss the little troublemaker. Then Shuri opened the doorway and it was filled with the moon.

—l—

Earth Stream 328: October 31, 2040

8:16PM

Jet at the north. Celtic salt at the south. Cypress root to the west. The bones of a Juvian Sparrow to the east. A scrying bowl full to the brim with a dark, witching potion. All connected with a chalk circle on the wooden floor of the Golden Fang. Oma suggested that she do the spell and scrying in the place she was most comfortable, and even though Monger looked about ready to blow a gasket from his place behind the bar, he allowed her to stay. He even closed out the bar for the night. She only saw the moon as the Jags stumbled out, it was full and brighter than she’d ever seen. Hopefully that was a good sign.

The spell was easy. She had all of the components. She’d spoken the words until they slipped from her lips in her sleep. She knew her magic wouldn’t fail her in this. The scrying was the hard part. She’d only done it a few times more since that first time with Oma, and the nerves licked at her calm like flames.

Surrounded by candles and crystals Harley knelt on the paneled wooden floor. The spell was done in minutes, opening up the space in the circle to…anything. Hopefully she’d be pulling Ayana through the crack she’d created and re-warding the place as soon as possible. Harley hated the idea of opening the Golden Fang up to anything. One never knew what waited in the veil between worlds.

She turned her attention to the scrying bowl, grabbing it with both hands and sitting it in her lap. This time, as she saw her reflection in the liquid, she did her best to hone in on Ayana’s energy. Monger watched as Harley stopped blinking. He’s pretty sure she stopped breathing, but she’d warned him not to interrupt her. Not for anything.

Harley started with the version of herself she’d seen wrapped up with Ayana’s aura. Pale yellow curled around fuchsia. Now that she knew what she was looking for, they weren’t hard to find. The girl, and her rockstar counterpart were both mingling with Ayana’s essence, but before Harley could coax her aura out to pull Ayana back, the baby fell. Only, she wasn’t falling to the ground. Ayana was tumbling through worlds.

Harley could see tens and hundreds and thousands of creatures like her. A mermaid in one. A succubus in another. A crane. A child. A snake. A knight. She was everything and one thing, but Killmonger appeared in them too. He was her equal, then opposite, her friend, then enemy. Everything and one thing.

Harley tried to focus. Tried to follow Ayana’s aura streaking through the universe. Tried to grab a hold of the girl she cared so deeply for, but somewhere between her queen self and shaman self, she lost her baby girl. Killmonger couldn’t watch any longer. Harley hadn’t breathed in nearly two minutes. He wanted Ayana back more than anyone could know, but he wouldn’t let Harley die searching for her.

Rounding the bar and breaking Harley’s chalk circle Monger reached a hand to her arm. Electricity crackled up to his shoulder as Monger’s fingers wrapped around Harley’s arm. Her inhale was so sharp her body rolled. Shoulders fell back, down her spine. Head lolled away from her scrying bowl, but her eyes, her eyes were still blank.

Monger slid his hand from her arm to her chin. Gentle fingers lifted her face to his. Eyes unfocused. His mouth curved around her name, just a whisper. A breath ghosting past her lips. And then, a pop.

“I told you she was a trouble maker.” Harley was lucid enough to see that Monger finally had his arms full again, and she grinned right before passing out.

—l—

Earth Stream 245: October 31, 2040

9:25PM

Hazel landed on the hard asphalt with a thump and a huff, the wind rushing out of her. She could see the moon, full and bright shining down on her from its place in the deep dark sky. She breathed in the crisp fall air, and her phone began to vibrate in her pocket. It wouldn’t stop actually, buzzing with a months worth of missed notifications. Hazel breathed out a sigh. She made it. Limbs and sanity intact. Just as she was about to cry in relief, someone cleared his throat.

“Hazel Fay?”

“Yes?”

“My name is Erik Stevens. I’m a detective. Your mother hired me to find you.”

“Oh.” A pause as she processed this, and then. “Oh shit.” Erik’s lips curled into a rueful grin.

“Can you tell me where you’ve been?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you the truth.” Hazel shook her head after responding. Hell, she could hardly believe what had happened.

“Try me.”

Here’s Killmonger’s bike inspo in case you were wondering!

Translations

ugqirha: witch doctor

—l—

Dia dhuit ársa amháin: Hello ancient one (Irish)

Arsa ársa, táimid tar éis teacht ar do bheannacht: Ancient one, we’ve come to you for a blessing (Irish)

Dia: God (Irish)

—l—

Ádh mór: Good luck (Irish)

A/N: So that’s that on that. Baby Ayana is home safe and sound! So is Hazel!

 Low-key why do I write about bars so much I don’t even go to bars????? And I never really have????? Anyways…..here we are! The end. Didya like it? Did y’all have fun on the journey? This was as much a writing exercise as it was a passion project for me. I wanted to see if I could (1) even write a mystery (2) incorporate magic in a vaguely realistic way (3) ONLY write four parts and (4) write everything ahead of time and release it weekly like a TV show, while still keeping people interested. I feel like I low-key did that lolllllllllllll

That being said I can’t wait to revisit this and turn it into some type of script because I def want to expand on these worlds and characters even more. Especially Detective Erik, even though he’s the most human, there’s something more I think he deserves that I couldn’t quite get my finger on just yet. 

I have an inkling of an idea for a future take, but that won’t happen for a while I think. Writing this was my break from writing my book, and even with life stuff not going perfectly, I’m finally feeling good about diving back into my book and my characters! I’m so close to being done so wish me luck! 

My faerie Roaen is Irish, so you see Angel speaking Irish in that one scene because I have a light obsession with Celtic mythology and Ireland in general. I love that place. Everything is so damn green. 

Finally, I want to thank absolutely EVERYONE for reading and liking and reblogging and sharing this story. It really means the world to me especially as a fairly new writer. (This is only my second fic lol) You guys lift my spirit every time you read and I truly am blessed to have y’all reading my story. 

The Mystery of the Golden Fang Mood Board

A Map Made in Heaven

Masterlist

Taglist: @princessstevens @muse-of-mbaku @k-michaelis@queenamaniii@thatrandomfangirl98@dreadedphilosphy@killmongurl @thelovelyliterary@elaindeereads @thedom223 @muse-of-mbaku@bidibidibombaclaat @panthergoddessbast @writingmarvellousimagines @someareblindtoitsbeauty @jozigrrl@iamrheaspeaks @purple-apricots @thadelightfulone@janelledarling @killmongersgurl

[worm-yaoi]

The little garden

“Sorry to suddenly ask you to come with me like this, but there’s just something that I needed a little extra help with.” Spoke a deep voice, entirely cutting through the ever present muttering from the trucks engine. The large monster kept his eye’s firmly planted on the road and his strong hands heavily upon the steering wheel, but it was hard to keep his emotions down. After all when was the last time that he and Kris went somewhere on their own together? He was just so happy that his smile hadn’t faded since they left the shop.

Every now and again he’d glance towards the tiny framed child in the seat next to him, they looked even smaller trapped inside the structure of his overly large vehicle, after all it was built with a monster in mind... not much so for humans. They could hardly see the road for themselves, and there wasn’t much for them to do but curl up in their seat and wait, while the wind from the open window beside them swayed their already somewhat unkempt chestnut brown hair. Every now and again they’d catch a glimpse of a building or two, but it didn’t take long for trees to be the only thing in sight.

“It’s OK.” They spoke up with their usual soft tone. Kris was actually pretty happy themselves right now, they could hardly remember the last time they were in their dad’s truck. It must’ve been since the last camping trip with Asriel, and that was already a pretty long time ago now.

The rest of the drive passed as calmly as it began. However half way through Asgore did indeed attempt to play a little game of eye spy, but with the only real answer being ‘tree.’ one can assume that the game didn’t really last very long. Eventually the monster pulled his car past some brush and onto a rather rough dirt road, thankfully for Kris’s sake they didn’t have to travel on it for long. For that poor child was bouncing and sliding all over the place... after all the larger seat belt scarcely did a thing for them.

When the jostled car came to a stop, Kris peered out the window finding themselves entirely surrounded by large looming trees, veiling the vehicle in their darkened basking shadows. It was easy to tell that they were no longer in the boundaries of hometown, after all this place looked... so untouched. As if they were the only soul’s to have ever set foot here. 

“We’re almost there, just a bit more now!” Their father’s voice chimed, as the pair began their way on a very desolate dirt road. Not a step went by without a cracking of loose twigs and leaves. The birds and animals rustled in the brush, and the earthy scent was almost overpowering. Yet at the same time the quaint silence was extremely comforting, as if the hand of nature was softly cradling their frame in it’s hands. Safe and comfortable, Kris always felt more at home when it came to being out doors than they did in the city... and this was merely just further proof of that.

Kris was so enchanted by their surroundings, that when Asgore eventually came to a halt their face almost landed head first into his arm as he stood. Though they managed to stop themselves just a hair short of the collision. Peering through his soft white fur, they came face with a a very humble patch of earth. Small swashes of grass waved in the gentle breeze, accompanied with a few flowers patched in here and there. At first glance, they could hardly see why their dad would drag them out here... it was just like any other corner they passed already right?

Upon reading Kris’s scrunched and confused features, he could not hold back a boisterous hearty chuckle. “It is more than it seems I promise.” It was then that he began towards the small patches where the flowers were blooming. Kneeling himself down into the dirt, as his massive paws lifted upwards, delicately holding the head of the flower betwixt his white fur. Just from the distance he was already able to spot that they were in rough shape, but now that he was closer the obvious state of their rapid decline was front center. He sighed then, his brow furrowed in concern for their well being. Poor thing’s have been suffering in silence for so long, no one to cry out for.

“Is it dead?” A tiny voice rang out aside him, shaking him from his melancholic stupor. His eyes fell upon them, the child mimicked his crouched frame, their features fixated upon the wilted mass within his hands. “No it’s not dead. Well, it wont be now we’re here to help them.” Kris perked up towards him, their face painted with excited astonishment. “We can help?” That warm smile soon returned to the large monster’s features, offering a nod he answered. “Yes, we certainly can Kris.”

The next moment’s to pass between them were only shared by the voices of the forest abound them, and the occasional gentle humming from Asgore. The pair of them proceeded to the process of unearthing the wilting saplings, the larger monster helping guide their child’s tiny hand’s through the dirt. Inevitably they both soon were covered in patches of it, most of all their hands which were now rather caked in the stuff. Especially as their trowels carved deeper and deeper, for that is where the most moisture culminated, and soon mud too also became apart of the equation. Goodness, he knew a certain someone wasn’t going to be very pleased about it.

Through their gentle combined efforts, eventually all of the flowers had been plucked from the earth. The long trails of their curled and coiled roots in tow. “You see, Kris. Not everything on earth is always given a fair chance. These flowers are trying to grow in a place that would kill them eventually. The tree’s above absorb all of their sun light, and they aren’t getting the proper nutrients they need to thrive.” He shifted in his position slightly, lifting a plucked sapling forward and placing it between Kris’s quaint mud covered fingers. Asgore rose his paws then, lightly clasping them around their teeny hands. “But together, we can change that fate. They will grow big and strong right before our eyes... and even though they wont be able to say anything. The brilliance in their petal’s will show us that they’re thankful.”

“Not everything can cry for help, sometimes all you have to do is listen in different ways.” Kris was entirely mystified by their fathers speech even if they didn’t really understand it fully... they felt as though it was really significant. So much so that their hold upon the dirt was as gentle as could be. Their crimson eyes shimmered in wonder as they gazed upon the paled sapling drooping between their grasp. Kris’s lips curled into a natural sunny smile, an rarity when it came to this child. “I’m glad!” They chimed blithely.

Asgore was slightly taken back by their reaction, his eyes widened in surprise. Yet his features melted at the sight of it, and perhaps a tear or two that was quickly wiped away with a muddied paw. His free arm lifted upwards and clasped against their tiny cheek, rubbing his thumb over their soft skin... leaving a skid of mud as it went by.. but he just couldn’t help himself. “A-ah..” He began still a little choked up. “Let’s not keep these buds waiting any longer, let’s put them in a good place where they can grow.” Kris was mostly confused by his actions, and hadn’t really taken notice of the tears, they merely continued to smile through it all.

Standing up straight now, the large monster offered a still dirtied paw down towards their child, whom quickly wrapped their hand around one of his fingers in return. Hand in hand the pair of them walked further down the road, with little wilted buds in tow...

“Dad, when they grow big and pretty, can we show these to Azzy when he comes to visit?”

“Of course. I’m sure he’d be very happy to see your garden. Why don’t you plant one especially for him?”

[misssophiachase]

I have a drabble idea where Caroline is Hope's real mom and she is giving birth and klaus is there and everything is adorable except for caroline constantly insulting him bc the pain is to much for her. Pretty please 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

Thanks nonnie and sorry for the delay. Okay, so I have to admit that I’m not a huge fan of Hope (aka the magical immaculate conception) but I wanted to do something anyway for you, love. This is my AH spin on this scenario, hope it’s okay.

Labour Pains

“What the hell is he doing here?” Caroline growled, only just noticing Klaus had made his way back into her hospital room.

“Wow, and they haven’t even administered an epidural yet,” Katherine soothed from her bedside. “This is your first husband, Klaus.”

“First? Really Katherine?”

“What? It was too easy, lover boy,” she joked, feeling Caroline squeeze her hand unbearably hard. “Plus, you left me here all alone with the pregnant monster mid-contraction.”

“I’m not the monster, he’s the monster,” Caroline bellowed, her maniacal look so ferocious Klaus was fairly certain he’d be a pile of hot ash if she had her way. “What kind of ass leaves the bedside of his wife when she’s on the wrong side of a contraction?”

Klaus loved his wife but right at that moment he was seeing a whole other side to her and he’d be lying if he wasn’t terrified.  “Hello to you too, sweetheart,” he said by way of greeting. “I was a little hungry, so I…”

“You are seriously going to dangle food in front of me, Mikaelson?

 “Well, I also got the candy you like so much from the shop downstairs…”

“I haven’t been able to eat because I need to get your child out of me and she’s taking her sweet time if you haven’t noticed.”

 “I also got you these.” He held out the bunch of lilies, her favourite blooms, by way of a non-food peace offering. This wasn’t the first time she’d blamed him for knocking her up and it wouldn’t be the last.

“You think flowers are going to get this bowling ball thing out of this teeny tiny hole?”

“Ouch!” Katherine groaned, her hand turning white she was squeezing it so hard. “Watch the hand of the person who didn’t knock you up, okay Care?”

“I never said they were, I just thought you might like…”

“Oh, you think you know what I’d like?” She shot back, rolling her wild, blue eyes for extra effect. 

“Well, you certainly seemed to like what we were doing the night this baby was conceived, love.” As soon as it was out of his mouth, it was too late. Klaus was fairly certain she was going to kill him in the throes of child labour. She always was an extremely effective multi-tasker. 

“Seriously, Klaus?” Katherine hissed. “Too much information.”

“Oh, like we don’t hear about your sex life in great detail at the dinner table when you visit?”

“Mine is impulsive and hot, yours is married and abnormal.”

“Heavily pregnant woman in the room on the verge of bursting,” Caroline interrupted. 

“It won’t be too long now, love,” Klaus calmed, hoping he said the right thing. This was his first child and the first time he’d witnessed this scary version of his wife. 

“Oh, it’s so easy for you,” she wailed. “You get to put your penis in me and suddenly I’m the one who gets fat, whose ankles swell, who has the most disgusting food cravings, who has mood swings and emotional outbursts,” she sobbed. 

Katherine gave him a look which clearly said he was on his own and relinquished her hand while Caroline was distracted before basically running from the room in fright. 

“You’re not fat,” he smiled knowingly. A pregnant Caroline Forbes was his most favourite thing to look at these days. Her skin radiated, she was that happy. “And your ankles are the sexiest things I’ve ever seen.” He moved closer, probably against his better judgment and ran his hand across the body parts in question hoping she didn’t decide to kick him for his trouble. 

“You’re just saying that,” she whimpered, tears running down her cheeks now. All he wanted was to make things better for the woman he loved. 

“You may be the scariest form of yourself right now, but I’m not lying,” he grinned, lifting himself up onto the bed and pulling her into his arms. “And I’m not leaving your side again, even if you call me the nastiest names on the planet.”

“You mean like asshole?” 

“Yes,” he confirmed. “Even that.”

“And bastard?”

“Yes, Caroline.”

“And sorry excuse for a sperm machine?” 

“I’ll add it to the growing list, love,” he smiled, thinking he wouldn’t want Caroline any other way. 

“I’ll come up with some more but my next contraction is on the way,” she huffed, preparing to push. 

“I’ll get a pen and some paper to document them in the meantime,” he quipped, making moves to get off the bed,

“You better be joking, Mikaelson,” she hissed. “We’re in this thing together.”

“Yes, we are, and I know you don’t feel it right now but I couldn’t be happier about it.” 

He placed a chaste kiss on her lips and readied himself for the impending contraction knowing that their daughter was going to be more than worth it.   

[clarenceandannabelle]

Chapter 3. A Long Walk

    The Forest was always very peaceful in the mid afternoon. Clarence walked steadily down the path with Annabelle sitting in the palm of his hand. Surprisingly, his arm was not getting tired like he had expected. His eyes followed up the trunks of surrounding trees. Some were massive; taller and wider than him. Others were much smaller and thinner. The variety of plant life worked in unison to create a darkness that covered both sides of the path, even in broad daylight. Some found this threatening, as if looking in would make you vulnerable enough to have your soul stolen. Clarence and Annabelle however, being frequenters of The Forest, felt protected by the darkness, as if it were a blanket.

    There was a silence between them that Clarence felt would still exist even if he could understand Annabelle. It made him a little uncomfortable, as if it shouldn’t be there. For the first time in his life, Clarence wished very badly to strike up a conversation with a stranger.

    “I-It’s uh, it’s really n-nice out today.” he said out of nowhere. Clarence felt stupid for talking about the weather of all subjects, but he couldn’t think of anything else.

    Annabelle looked up at him and nodded thoughtfully. It was a beautiful day. There were birds singing in the trees, rays of sun passing through leaves and making shadows on the forest floor that danced with the breeze, which was slow but cool compared to the warmness of the day. Flowers were blooming in little patches all over the place. Most were light shades of blue, pink, yellow or white. They added to the beauty of The Forest tremendously.

    Annabelle looked down and spotted a particularly lovely group of daisies. She crawled to the edge of Clarence’s hand and pointed to them.

    “What is it? Oh, the daisies. Yeah, that’s the flower I drew earlier,” Clarence stated, with a teeny hint of pride that wouldn’t have been there if Annabelle hadn’t expressed her admiration of his art. She looked up at him and smiled sweetly. Clarence continued to walk along the path. They were about halfway to The Healer, and Clarence wanted to talk with Annabelle more before they got there.

    Clarence was not one to try new things or go to new places. He enjoyed life just the way it was, and didn’t see any point to changing it. He figured there was a chance he could ruin it’s perfection if anything went wrong in doing things differently, so why try to fix something that’s not broken. This meant that he did not have any friends. The only people Clarence actually felt comfortable sharing things with were his mothers. Of course, he did not mind this at all. It worried his mothers, but he was unaware of this. Annabelle falling on his notebook changed his perspective on life. The world was full of people, each one unique in their own way. Spending a lifetime alone was bound to get dull at some point, and Clarence did not want to find out when. He realised that she may be the only chance he has at making a real friend, and he did not want to waste it.

    “So,” he began, a little nervously. “How come you were in the tree?”

    Annabelle felt a hot wash of shame move through her whole body. How am I supposed to tell him that I’ve been spying on him for two weeks? She was panicking a little, but she didn’t let Clarence notice. Then she remembered her original reason for going out to the oak tree. She pointed to the ground, wanting to be put down.

    “Y-you want to get off? D-did I um, do s-something wrong?” Clarence was worried that he had asked a bad question, or she suddenly felt uncomfortable with him. Still, not wanting her to get any more upset with him, he put her down, and was relieved to find that she only wanted to draw in the dirt. She drew an acorn with a tiny twig as her pencil, and looked up at him.

    “Is that… an acorn?” Clarence asked, kneeling in front of her. Annabelle looked up and nodded. “You needed acorns? Why?” Annabelle wrote in the dirt:

    USE AS CUPS

and looked back at him. He had a puzzled look on his face, and Annabelle giggled a little and grinned. She was used to the fact that few people understood why she did odd things, like using acorns shells as cups instead of regular glasses. She didn’t mind of course. Being weird brought her joy.

    “I see,” Clarence spoke slowly. “A-alright then, haha.” Clarence out his hand out in front of her, and gradually stood up once she had climbed on. They began to make their way again, and Clarence made a mental note to not ask many questions that required a long response, or it would take them hours to get to The Healer if she had to stop and draw on the ground to answer each time.

    “Uh, d-do you like to draw?” Clarence asked nervously. He felt like he was bugging Annabelle with all the questions, but he really wanted to get to know her a little better. Even if he was being annoying, she was at least remaining polite and cheery throughout their conversation. Annabelle nodded after a moment of thought. Clarence asked if she thought she was good at it, and Annabelle laughed and shook her head no while giving a thumbs down. She was about as good at drawing as a seven year old. Clarence giggled a little, too. “Oh okay, haha. Looks like I don’t have any competition, then.” Annabelle looked up at him and smiled, then began to laugh again. Clarence felt happy and warm inside. He was starting to really enjoy her company.

Art by @hottest_legs_ on Instagram

[livingcorner]

Make the Most of a Small Garden With These Brilliant Space-Saving Ideas@|how to make garden in home@|https://ift.tt/3fuy7O7

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Crafting a small outdoor space is never easy, but it’s not impossible. Even if you’re not lucky enough to call Versailles home, you can still make your tiny patch of green look stunning. With a dose of creativity and a few smart furniture choices, your humble garden can be picture-perfect in no time, thanks to these brilliant space-saving outdoor ideas design ideas.

You're reading: Make the Most of a Small Garden With These Brilliant Space-Saving Ideas@|how to make garden in home@|https://hips.hearstapps.com/hmg-prod.s3.amazonaws.com/images/small-garden-ideas-1614032371.jpg?crop=1.00xw:0.752xh;0,0.135xh&resize=1200:*@|0

Not sure where to begin? This roundup has genius garden hacks, stylish decor and unique planters that will give a petite space some grand style. These small garden ideas have more than enough inspiration to bring style to your home, regardless of your design aesthetic.

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Lattice Green Wall

Obsessed with lattice? For an unexpected touch to your garden, let the pattern set the foundation for a green wall.

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Fold-Out Shelf

You can’t go wrong with taking advantage of outdoor wall space. A simple fold-out shelf can serve as the perfect spot to display small plants and outdoor entertaining essentials.

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Patterned Hanging Planters

Enhance greenery or statement floral arrangements with a pair of potted hanging planters.

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Hammock

Play up your garden’s cozy factor with a stylish hammock, designed for an afternoon nap or getting lost in a good book.

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Globe String Lights

Any outdoor gathering would be so much more fun if classic string lights are in the mix, whether you choose to hang them on a fence or under a pergola.

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Fence Planters

Window boxes can be used in so many creative ways. Fill one with vibrant blooms—a great match for a white picket fence.

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Vibrant Chairs

Outfitting a small space doesn’t mean you have to settle for drab furniture. The brighter, the better is the way to go to bring your space to life.

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Read more: 12 Tips to Keep Foxes Out of Your Garden@|how to keep foxes out of garden@|https://www.the-salutation.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/12/12-Tips-to-Keep-Foxes-Out-of-Your-Garden.jpg@|0

Rolf 2-Piece Galvanized Iron Wall Planter Set

Mistana wayfair.com

$47.99

Vertical gardening doesn’t get any easier than this. Use one or both planters depending on how green your thumb is. 

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Aanya Hardwood Dark Red Meranti Potting Bench

Sol 72 Outdoor wayfair.com

$129.99

With a roomy shelf underneath, this wood piece doubles as a mini garden “shed” for storage. 

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Floral Still Life Sling Chair

Society6 society6.com

$119.20

When it comes to an impromptu yard game, consider folding furniture, like this floral style, to easily free up space in an instant. 

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Square Foot Gardening

This highly efficient method divides raised beds into a grid. Vegetables then get planted in one or more squares at a density based on plant size (e.g., you’d plant about 16 radish seeds per square, but only one tomato plant).

RELATED: The Pros and Cons of Square Foot Gardening

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Buy Ecopots Hanging Pot

Ditch those unsightly plastic hanging pots for a sleek bowl like this waterproof design that’s available in four colors: charcoal, stone, clay and slate. 

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Flower-Filled Planters

Instantly boost your home’s curb appeal with bright blooms on each side of your front door. Expecting guests? Steal these tricks from our home team: Add stems from a supermarket bouquet for extra fullness and mint for a fragrant burst.

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Fairy Garden

Think small — really small — with this adorable project. Outfitted with a mini birdhouse, rustic stones, and teeny-tiny accessories, this planter is the perfect thing to make with kids.

Get the tutorial »

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The Backyard Homestead

goodhousekeeping.com

$18.95

If you have ¼ acre of land (or even less!), you can produce your own vegetables, fruits, grains, eggs, and more — this book shares garden plans, landscaping tips, planting tricks, chicken coop ideas, and more. 

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Dwarf Trees

Averaging about 15 feet tall and wide, many ornamental or dwarf tree varieties can handle tiny spaces. Crowd-pleasers like dogwoods, camellias, crepe myrtle, and crabapples offer both flowers and foliage too.

RELATED: The 9 Best Trees for Small Yards

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AMAZON BEST SELLER

Mid Century Plant Stands

Read more: 12 Effective ways to keep birds out of the garden@|how to keep birds out of the garden@|https://lovelygreens.com/wp-content/uploads/pigeon.jpg@|0

Amazon shoppers are obsessed with this cute wooden plant stand that can fit just about anywhere. Consider your yard officially Instagrammable. (Note: The plant and pot is not included.)

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Habit + Form Rectangle Trough

If your outdoor dining spot could use a little green, try adding one of these long planters to the table. The cold-rolled steel can stand up to the elements, and succulents will adapt to even the shallowest containers. 

RELATED: 5 Mistakes You’re Making With Your Succulents

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Trained Trees

You can actually prune certain types of fruit trees to grow against a wall, a process called espalier. Start with a 1- or 2-year-old tree and attach two supple branches to the wire about 18 inches off the ground, advises the Oregon State University Extension Service. Then take time as the seasons go on to prune your tree carefully.

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Porch Plants

If you don’t have space on the ground for the garden of your dreams, use porch ceilings to display your plant babies in hanging baskets.

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AMAZON BEST SELLER

Wooden Plant Display Stand

Not all scaffolding is an eyesore. You’ll get six levels of greenery and blooms with this stained pine plant stand. It maxes out at 37 inches long, 10 inches wide, and 37 inches tall, and can hold up to 44 pounds altogether. 

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Repurposed Shutters

SHOP SUCCULENTS

Lean louvers (old or new) against an exterior wall and fill slots with hearty plants such as succulents or mosses. Succulents are nearly indestructible, but can get scorched in direct sunlight, so put them on the shady side of your home.

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Galvanized Tubs

To create contrast with terracotta pots, transform inexpensive galvanized-steel washtubs into planters. This long, low oval version, with drainage holes poked in the bottom, shows off a basil crop.

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Lorelei Quatrefoil Garden Stool

Beachcrest Home wayfair.com

$119.99

It doubles as a seat or side table depending on what you need at the moment. Bring the stool inside during the winter and use it as a perch in the bathroom, or as an end table in the living room. 

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Pallet Garden

SHOP POTS

Attach clay pots to a pallet with nails and stainless steel cable ties for a living art display that keeps your rosemary and basil at the ready. Space out the pots so your plants have room to grow

Source: https://livingcorner.com.au Category: Blog

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