#cleo moriyama

[side-effect-of-the-meds]

Yo yo yo I need to kno more about Cleo!!!

After nearly a month (possibly more) here are some answers! Thanks for your ask, love

Tradition states that only rival heirs of the Moriyamas are sent to the branch family. As a girl, Riko was never a threat. However, since Riko’s mother died giving birth to her, Kengo blames the death of his wife on Riko and banishes her. The thing about the Moriyamas are that they’re coldhearted bishes so, when they love, they love with everything they’ve got. With Kengo’s wife dead, his life is cold and empty once more. The name Riko is not be uttered in the Moriyama household, especially not near Kengo. He will scream and cry and throw things. His grief is loud and violent. Many of Kengo’s men are from his wife’s family or were saved by her from disease and poverty. They owe her their lives and in her dying moments she called them all together to ask of them one last favor. She asked them to renew their pledges to Kengo and be there for him, no matter the cost. None of them refuse. Many silent tears are shed at her funeral. Anyway, all of the men are exceptionally loyal to him bc of this promise. Knowing Kengo’s frenzied grief if over the loss of the woman who loved them all as if they were her own children strengthens their bond with him. All of them secretly keep tabs on Riko, though. She looks just like her mother and it soothes their ragged souls to see their Mistresses features on her daughter. 

Kengo’s men aren’t the only people secretly seeking solace in Riko. All the mystery shrouding the existence of his sister is the reason Ichirou was so intrigued by her. You know how Ania has a binder full of snippets of Kevin and Riko and their achievements and stuff? He has one too, dedicated solely to his sister. He secretly watches her games and interviews. 

Kengo’s sister, Kana, is always around. She is Kengo’s best friend and closest advisor. When Kengo’s grief gets too much for him, Kana is the one that picks up his broken pieces. At all of the ridiculous fundraising functions they have to attend, Ichirou catches Kana making funny faces at Kengo from across the room. He's stunned by the sight of the soft twitch of his father's lips as he shakes his head in amusement. Unlike his father, Ichirou is all alone. He blames his father for it. It’s hard being the heir to the most feared crime syndicate in America, especially when you’re going it alone. Riko isn’t alone. She has Kevin and Jean and soon she shall have the Wesninski girl too. Ichirou is just a little bit bitter. He spends a lot of time day-dreaming about the day he’ll meet his sister. Never in a thousand years did he imagine it with a gun pressed to her head. As he pulls the trigger, his heart shatters into a thousand pieces. He stares emptily out the window of the car. 

He doesn't find out about Cleo until Riko’s funeral. Everyone thinks he’s crying because his sister is dead. No. He’s crying because he’s an uncle and he hadn’t even known. After some investigation, he finds out the circumstances of Cleo’s conception. I’m not going into detail but let’s put it this way: Tetsuji doesn’t survive Ichirou’s wrath. It isn’t a quick death either. 

Ichirou loved his sister wholeheartedly but he never got to tell her so. Knowing what he does now, he realizes that she was just as lonely as he was. More than anything, he does not want Cleo to suffer as he and Riko did. His first instinct is for him to take Cleo back. He’ll raise her as every Moriyama woman is raised: a Goddess to be feared and revered. At the funeral he has seen the child sleeping soundly in Wesninski’s arms and now a small part of him stalled. Life as the daughter of Riko and Tetsuji Moriyama will not be easy. If the public ever found out the circumstances under which Cleo was conceived, they’d riot at the very idea of her being raised by her uncle. Ichirou had already denounced his uncle and cut ties with him. He was a blemish on the Moriyama name that now threatened to bring them down entirely with his careless actions. No, Ichirou could not take Cleo back. Not if he wanted to preserve some semblance of his family's dignity. Or so her told himself. 

Unlike his father, Ichirou wasn’t quite as coldhearted. Warmth still bloomed in his chest at the laughter of children and smiles still tinged his lips at the sight of the joys of others. Pain still stabbed through him at the sight of men bleeding out on the concrete before him and guilt kept him up at night, tormenting him with thoughts of the families of women left husbandless and children now fatherless. Above all else, he felt nothing but love for his baby niece and he wanted her to love him too. There would come a day when Cleo learned the truth herself. What would she think of Ichirou then? No matter what she might say, there would always be a hint of doubt in her mind insinuating falsehoods about him. Anguish washed over Ichirou at the very thought. He didn’t think he’d survive Cleo harboring so much as a single seed of hate in her heart for him. Staying away from her was for the best. 

It’s a lot harder than he thought it would be, though. Cleo now lived at Palmetto State in the care of Abigail Winfield and David Wymack. Riko was Evermore’s unofficial mascot and now Cleo was Palmetto’s. Her face is plastered across every screen in the nation. Many Raven fans are livid with rage. This is the highest betrayal. Riko Moriyama had a child and no one said anything?!?!?! Riots are a thing. Someone tried to kidnap Cleo to take her back to Evermore. 

The attempted kidnapping is the final straw. First of all, they’re dismembered parts were sent home to their family in a UPS box. Second of all, Ichirou holds a press conference in which he reveals the truth about Cleo’s birth, explaining why he can’t take her in, and making a thinly veiled threat to the remaining Raven fans about what would happen to the next person who tried to harm her. No one ever bothers Palmetto State again. 

Cleo grows up hating Riko. For a long time, she doesn’t know she’s Riko’s daughter. All photos of Riko are banned. The adults only ever talk about her when they think Cleo is asleep. Cleo wakes in the middle of the night for a drink of water and creeps over to the kitchen. She can hear the adults angrily hissing at one another. They’re talking about someone named Riko with as much hate as Cleo’s ever heard. Wymack is always mad but this is something else. Abby seems upset as well, a truly rare sight. She doesn’t know who Riko is but she hates her now. 

Cleo only finds out when she goes to school. After intense debate, the Foxes decided to keep her last name as it was. It was already too well known to do anything about it. Some kid comes from an exy obsessed family and mentions that she looks a lot like Riko Moriyama. Cleo gets sent to the principal's office for punching the kid. 

Wymack and Abby can no longer hide it. They sit her down at the kitchen table and tell her the truth. Cleo doesn’t take it well. Maybe I’ll talk about the specifics later but there’s quite a bit of work that goes into that and I need to clear the asks that are already in my inbox. 

She knows who her father is too but the details are limited because of course they are. She’s like 7 rn. 

After all this drama, she learns about her Uncle Ichirou. She goes behind Wymack and Abby’s backs to send him a letter. It’s written in red crayon on a sheet of black construction paper: Evermore’s colors. Ichirou flips his shit. His beloved little niece has just found out the truth about her birth and the first thing she did was write to him. 

It’s after this that Ichirou ends up abolishing the branch family entirely. He keeps all three of his kids, one daughter and two sons, by his side. He’s still the head of the yakuza tho so I mean… he still tortures and kills people. His kids grow up the same way.  He’s literally only soft for his wife, kids, and Cleo. 

Ania has a bunch of galas and charity balls that she has to attend because she ‘donates’ to the Moriyama foundation. Ichirou makes her bring Cleo along so he can see her. Erin doesn’t like the thought of Ichirou being around Cleo so the three of them always arrive together and Erin is never far from Cleo. If she can’t be around, Jeanie, Jeremy, Kevin, or Thea are there. Ichirou is never left with Cleo unsupervised for obvious reasons. He wishes it didn’t have to be that way but he understands their concern and lets it go.

Since Ichirou isn’t really allowed to show physical affection towards her, Cleo gets spoiled rotten by her uncle. Every Christmas, there’s a shit ton of presents on Wymack’s doorsteps. All the labels read To: Cleo From: Santa in Ichirou’s unmistakable handwriting. There’s also just a bunch of presents that show up out of the blue. At least once a month, there’s some very expensive-as ‘thing’ in the mail. I mean, this shit belongs in museums. They’re almost always Japanese bc Ichirou doesn’t want her to forget her heritage. She’s got a lot of kimonos and a few samurai swords and ornate hair clips and umbrellas and shoes. She’s got a lot of scrolls written in Japanese too which is why she asks Kevin to teach her to speak and write it. Some of the scrolls are actually letters to her from Ichirou. These all go in a special box that she keeps on the top shelf of her closet.

Speaking of Kevin, Thea is an absolute miracle worker. It’s a long road to his recovery but Thea is there for him the whole way. Cleo is the biggest hurdle on this road. She looks just like Riko. She’s got the same bright laugh and brilliant smile. She has the same features as her mother, and grandmother by default, and has the same build. Looking at her, all Kevin can see is Riko. 

One day he goes to pick her up from daycare. He can only watch as one of Cleo’s friends pushes someone else off the swings and offered the seat to Cleo. Kevin’s heart stopped. Riko would most definitely take the seat, kicking up the mulch in the other child’s face. Instead, Cleo shoves her friend aside and extends a hand to the boy on the ground. She helps him to his feet and wipes away the tears on the little boy’s face. She picks the mulch out of his hair and the splinters from his hand. Kevin is close enough to hear her say to him that a kiss will make it better. She kisses his palm and turns back to her friend. She tells the girl off. Before they know it, the little girl is bawling her eyes out. Cleo hugs her but insists that she needs to apologize to the boy. Satisfied by her friend’s meek apology she offers the kid his seat back. He shakes his head and asks if the girls want a turn. It’s the first time Kevin realizes that Riko and Cleo aren’t the same person. Kevin totally isn’t crying when he calls her over and checks her out of the daycare center. 

Growing up at Palmetto, Cleo meets a lot of kids from broken homes. As a result she becomes really compassionate. She also becomes really touchy-feely. When the kids are sad she likes to give them hugs and hold their hands or pet their hair. She also makes? Them? Presents? Like little beaded necklaces and friendships bracelets. She makes an orange and white rubber band bracelet thing for Wymack and now he keeps his keys on it.

As I’ve mentioned, Cleo is ten when Erin and Ania get married and ask her to come and live with them. Wymack and Abby drive her up to the girls’ apartment in New York. Cleo is all nerves when she arrives. She’s grown up calling them Mom and Mama but now she’s going to live with them. Like…. Permanently!!!!!!!!!!

Standing in front of the door, she can’t bring herself to knock. Wymack kneels down in front of her and asks her what’s wrong. 

“What if they’ve changed their minds?” Cleo whispered. 

“Worst case scenario?” Wymack asked. “You’ll come back with us. I don’t think Abby and I are all that bad.” 

“You’re not,” Cleo replied, hastily. Wymack stood back up.

“Look, kid. It’s not going to be easy for them to adjust to having you around but they will. There isn’t a soul on the face of the Earth that loves you more than they do. How could they not? You’re pretty fucking great,” he said. Abby pursed her lips at Wymack’s language but said nothing. 

“You ready, Cleo?” she asked. Cleo nodded and Abby’s face brightened with a smile. The door opened just as Cleo mustered up the courage to knock. Arms wrapped around her and picked her up off the ground. Ania’s laughter rang in Cleo’s ears as the crushing weight of the hug knocked the air from her lungs. Kisses were speckled all across her face as Ania stepped out of the apartment and swung Cleo around until they were too dizzy to go on. The world was still spinning as Cleo collapsed beside Ania. 

“She’s been here less than a minute and you’re already trying to kill her?” The familiar rough voice caught Cleo’s attention. As her vision settled, she saw Erin leaning against the door frame. 

“Mom,” Cleo whispered, in awe as if Erin was an apparition. Erin remained in the doorway, stone-faced and covered in flour. 

“Not going to give your mom a hug?” Erin asked finally. Cleo was on her feet in less than a second. She barrelled into Erin’s open arms, nearly knocking her over. Tears gushed from Cleo’s eyes. “The hell are you crying about, Little One?” Erin muttered into Cleo’s hair. Cleo loosed a shaky laugh. She let Erin pick her up and heard the voices of the others as they entered the house. 

Cleo loves living with Erin and Ania. Like Wymack said, there’s an adjustment period but it’s not super long or uncomfortable. Erin is really good with kids and Ania really loves Cleo so they make it work. 

Sometimes Cleo gets sad, though. Her moms have games that they have to go to often so they’re always flying out to them. Fortunately, Aaron and Katelyn are living up in New York too. It’s about a two hour drive out to Uncle Aaron’s. Cleo loves being with him and her cousins, the twins, Lila and Leena. They’re really nice and Cleo gets along with them really well. They stay up late braiding each others’ hair and whispering secrets and telling stories. Katelyn makes the best mac and cheese on the face of the planet Earth and she always makes it whenever she knows Cleo’s especially down. They all sit on the couch together to watch Cleo’s moms’ games. Cleo catches her uncle hasilty scrubbing tears from his eyes at the sight of his sister’s rare, fierce grin.

Uncle Nicky and Uncle Erik are great. They don’t have kids. Instead they have two corgis named Micheal and Jude that fight all the time. The only time they ever seem to get along is when they’re with Cleo. The two of them like to sit on opposite side of Cleo, sandwiching her in the middle. 

Uncle Erik is a pastor at the church and he sings in the choir. He’s almost as good a singer as Erin… almost. He teaches Cleo how to sing. He also really likes to bake. Often, Cleo’s moms go on dates where they wander around Stuttgart together and just enjoy each other’s company. They almost always come home to find Erik and Cleo coated in flour and sugar and chocolate. Cleo uses her newfound baking skills to make things to her mom. Erin is living for it. Ania doesn’t approve of the unhealthy diet but she knows Cleo bakes with love so she limits how much Cleo is allowed to bake and instates portion control. 

Cleo is mildly claustrophobic and the worst of it happens on planes. Ania and Erin have a pre-flight ritual that they extend to include Cleo in as well. Every time Erin has to get on a plane and Ania is there to see her off, she has Erin roll back her armbands (she doesn’t wear them anymore but this was back in college) and draws a little heart on the inside of her wrist. Once it dries, Ania will press a kiss to the little heart. Growing up, Ania didn’t like plane either so her mother used to do this for her to quiet her fears. It makes Erin and Cleo feel very loved and protected. I mean, they know it doesn’t actually doing anything but it always makes them feel a lot better. 

On Saturday mornings, most kids wake up early to watch cartoons. Cleo wakes up to go snuggle with her moms. She’s around 12/13 when she starts this. Most of her moms’ games are on Fridays and they get back late at night or really early in the morning. Cleo wakes up at 9 a.m. and makes breakfast for the three of them and set the table. Everything is usually ready around 10 so she’ll creep into her moms’ room. Both of them are light sleepers so they’ll hear her come in. They sleep spooning each other but they always make space between the two of them so Cleo can wriggle in between them. Their cats, Sir and King, usually come in too. It soft and warm and all of them are happy. 

Cleo is obviously a part of an exy team. She’s the biological daughter of Riko Moriyama and is being raised by Exy stars Erin and Ania Minyard-Josten. What did you expect? 

She’s a striker. A much better one than her mother was. Better than Kevin too. The only person that outshines her is Ania but it doesn’t bother Cleo. In fact, it gives her something to aspire towards. She and Ania spend a lot of late nights out at the court with Erin in goal. Family bonding time :’)

Cleo likes getting her nails done. She usually does this with Ania. Ania only ever gets her non-dominant hand done and Cleo doesn’t understand. She only starts to understand once she gets married but I’ll get to that in a minute. 

There’s about a 3 year difference between Cleo and Amalia. Okay, look. Kevin’s grad party was wild and he and Thea might have had a little too much to drink. That’s how Amalia is conceived. Thea is mortified. Kevin asks her if she wants an abortion. Both of them are pro-choice, especially after learning everything that went down with the birth of Cleo. Thea believes in the right to choose but she could never have an abortion herself. She gives birth to Amalia and it devastated her. Her entire career is put on hold so she can have her baby. Kevin is stressed. He wants doesn’t want to sacrifice Thea’s happiness for that of their child.  The only compromise they can work out is to have their contracts transferred. They join the team based in Columbia, an hour and a half from the Foxhole Court. They wouldn’t dare ask Wymack to raise their child but they do ask for his help. Whenever they travel, Wymack and Abby babysit their granddaughter. The Monsters are at Palmetto for one more year so they help out too. Ania isn’t good with kids other than Cleo but she does her best to help. Jeanie and Jeremy get named the godparents but they don’t get to see Amalia often until Thea and Kevin move out to the West Coast. The Muldani-Days live in Seattle and the Knoxs remain in California. Visiting them is painful for Ania and Erin but they make new memories with them and so it isn’t all bad. 

Cleo and Amalia are best friends. Kevin and Thea live on the West Coast, on the other end of the nation, so the girls skype a lot. They binge watch shows together like this and help each other with homework too. They always get to see each other when their parents play each other at games and during holidays. Sometimes Kevin will let Amalia stay over with Erin and Ania or vice versa. All of this takes a serious mental toll on Cleo. She’s head over heels for Amalia. Sleeping literal inches from her is going to drive Cleo insane. Amalia is as much of a clingy sleeper as her father so she will often throw and arm over Cleo while asleep and draw her close. Cleo is certain she’s going to die then and there. 

Anyway, Kevin is shook. All his ptsd comes crashing back in a massive wave. He remembers how Riko treated him. What is Cleo does the same to Amalia? It doesn’t take him long to snap out of it. Cleo was raised in a loving home by Wymack, Abby, and the Foxes. All of them are broken but it's part of what made them such good people for her to around. Cleo has learned compassion to a degree that Kevin could only imagine. She is kind-hearted and loving and incredibly genuine. No one was ever going to be good enough for Amalia in Kevin’s eyes but Cleo was definitely as close as he’d hoped to find. 

He doesn’t say anything to Amalia. He doesn’t want to hurt Cleo’s chances but he doesn’t want to force his daughter to pick Cleo for his sake either. 

Amalia picks Cleo of her own free will. Their wedding is massive. Kevin breaks down crying as he walks her down the aisle to Cleo. Cleo rushes off the altar and helps him to his feet. She and Amalia walk him to the end before depositing him in a seat beside Thea. They’re all giggles and bright smiles as they stand together at the altar. 

They honeymoon in the French countryside. They spend most of it in bed together. Amalia is asexual so no that’s not what I meant, you heathens. They just curl up beside one another talking and giggling and kissing bc they’re happy and in love. 

Amalia and Cleo become foster parents. They do adopt but it usually older kids, late teens. Due to their age, few of them live with their moms but they all come together for the holidays. 

Holidays are hell. Cleo and Amalia have like eight kids and then they’re usually fostering someone. A lot of their kids are married and have their own kids plus their parents and uncles/aunts + grandparents show up. This is the only reason Cleo and Amalia live in a mansion. They need to be able to accommodate all these people. 

They grow old together. They have those shared tombstones with their graves side by side. Cleo dies first. Amalia doesn’t cry. She laughs and dances and tells stories about her wife. Cleo’s funeral is a celebration of her life not the mourning of her death, just the way she would have wanted it to be. 

Every day up until her own death, Amaila places pink and white carnations on Cleo’s grave. She’ll sit by her grave and read all her favorite books to her. Amalia misses Cleo dearly but she believes that she’ll return to her beloved when the time comes. 

[knoxxed]

what light tastes like

( Los Angeles is Jeremy Knox’s frown of concern whenever Jean pushes himself to the point of strain, the delighted grin when Jean surprises him. It’s cat fur being one more reason to stop wearing black. 

 Los Angeles is joining a starting line including but not limited to a kitchen witch, a seer, and a werewolf. It’s Jean never once being asked to confirm or deny who or what he is. 

 Los Angeles takes some getting used to.)

(Urban Fantasy!AU) for Lilly, @crazy-like-a-f0x (it’s not letting me tag you properly, i’m sorry!) for @aftgexchange‘s Summer Exchange 

It comes to Jean in flashes, after.

The realization–Kengo Moriyama is dead. Riko’s hands on his neck, slamming his face into the floor, again, again, again. The white hot bite of a knife. The way his fingers slip on the keys of his cellphone typing out a single message to Renee. Renee. Her face hovering over his, voice gentle, firm, impossible, as she hefts him to his feet.

What he remembers most clearly is the panic in his chest as she guided him outside into the night, into Minyard’s car. The way he protested, begged, half-conscious from pain.

They have it–I can’t–still in there, please–can’t leave, please, Renee–

Renee disappeared from his side for hours, for seconds. When she returned there was a birdcage with no door cradled in her arms; inside was a snow white dove.

Jean clutched it to his aching ribs and sobbed.

Two weeks after Jean flees the Nest, Kevin makes a deal with Jeremy Knox. Three weeks after Jean flees the Nest, Jean is recovering in his bed at Abby’s house. He watches the Trojans lose against the Ravens, watches Knox announce their treason on national television.

Knox says, I spoke to Jean earlier this week, says, He just won’t be back in black, says, I think we have a lot to learn from each other.

Knox says, Next year is going to be amazing, and the world believes him.

Jean sleeps, and he dreams of darkness.

He dreams of birds with burning wings, of glinting knives, of cages submerged in water.

Jean wakes up gasping. The dove at his bedside is thrashing in its cage.

He doesn’t go back to sleep.

Jeremy Knox picks him up from LAX at four in the morning on a Sunday, looking sleep heavy and bundled up in a USC sweatshirt that has seen better days. He’s holding two to-go mugs, the steam swirling in the morning air, and his face lights up when he sees Jean approaching.

“Jean Moreau,” Knox greets, sounding fond for reasons Jean can’t fathom. Jean is reminded of the times he’d had Knox as a mark–the way he was an absolute nightmare to defend against paired with the way he’d smile and seek Jean out at the end of each match. He’s never understood Jeremy Knox, and he doesn’t think that’ll change now that they’re on the same team.  

(Not for the first time Jean thinks he’s made a mistake in coming to LA, but there’s nothing to be done about it now.)

“Knox,” is all Jean says, and follows his new captain out of the terminal.

“It’s good to have you here,” Knox says as they walk through the parking lot; Jean can’t find it in him to agree with him. “I brought you a drink,” he continues, nonplused by Jean’s silence, offering out a cup. Jean takes it automatically, then eyes it warily.

“What is it?”

“Just try it,” Knox says instead of answering, smiling vaguely and rubbing sleep from his eyes, “I think you’ll like it.”

Jean concedes without argument, absurdly figuring Jeremy Knox is near the bottom of the list of people who would willingly poison him.

It’s black tea. Strong but slightly sweet, cut with milk. It’s good, but more than that it’s familiar. A memory is there, edging at the back of his brain–salty air, the smell of baking bread, the sound of his mother humming along to the radio.

Jean is jolted from the memory as they reach Knox’s parking spot. He drives a rusting pickup truck. This, in itself, isn’t out of the ordinary. What’s out of the ordinary is the small cat peering up at Jean from the passenger’s seat.

“Cleo,” Knox scolds as he stores Jean’s bags. He climbs into the truck and reaches across the bench seat to scoop the animal into his arms. “We talked about this,” he mutters exasperatedly into her fur before letting her squirm away into the center seat, curling up against Knox’s thigh. She’s a tiny thing, dusty brown and striped, with large yellow eyes that stare back at Jean with an unnerving intelligence.

“Jean, this is Cleo. Cleo, Jean,” Knox introduces cheerfully when they’re settled, pulling out onto the freeway before abruptly frowning. “Shit. I hope you don’t mind cats.”

Knox confirms Jean’s growing suspicions unprompted a few weeks later.

“She’s my familiar,” Knox says, running a hand through mussed hair that’d be the same color as Cleo’s fur if not lightened by the sun.  

They’re the only two members of the team occupying the USC dorms over the summer, so the weeks leading up to the admission have been filled with getting to know both L.A. and Jeremy Knox–whether Jean likes it to not. The captain’s optimism is almost as overwhelming as his work ethic, and Jean is beginning to understand that once Knox sets his mind to something he doesn’t give up. Jean doesn’t know if he’s relieved or annoyed that this seems to be applied to him as well; Knox hasn’t left him alone, or even seemed like he really wanted to.

“Familiars are more or less supposed to act as guide and protector,” Knox explains between bites of pancake. They’re at a small diner around the block from the dorms, grabbing an early breakfast after their morning run. Jean tends to startle awake from nightmares before the sun even rises these days, and Knox is a naturally early riser (“I grew up on a farm–can’t shake the habit,” he’d explained). This combination had led to an unexpected amount of diner breakfasts with his captain “She mostly just helps with my anxiety, though.”

They’d left Cleo behind, napping in a sunspot on the living room floor. She’d barely twitched her tail when Knox passed a soft hand over her spine in goodbye before they’d left.

“Have you always had her?” Jean finds himself asking, and Knox visibly perks up at his contribution.

“Nah, I wish. I was eleven, I think?” He hums thoughtfully into his cup of tea. “She was just a kitten back then. She found me when I needed her–that’s usually how it works.”

Jean thinks its a bit absurd that a stray cat wandering into his life could have offered Knox any sort of guidance–but he’s not about to tell him that.

To Jean’s surprise, it’s Alvarez who corrects him on his assumption.

“She’s not a cat,” Alvarez snorts into her water bottle when they’re both on the bench, throwing him a judging stare. Her and Laila had come up to L.A. for the weekend, and the four of them had found their way to the practice courts. Jean is still begrudgingly under no-contact restriction, but he’d gotten in a good workout nonetheless. “Seriously, Moreau, haven’t had much exposure to magic, huh?”

Jean levels her a blank stare before turning back to watch Laila and Jeremy where they’re locked in a stalemate of shots and saves across the court. “You could say that.”

Alvarez hums, consideringly. “Okay, let me amend my previous statement: she’s not just a cat. I think the best way to put it is that she’s an extension of Jeremy? Like picture the universe reaching inside of him and taking out a part of his soul–it’s that part that manifested as Cleo.”

Jean doesn’t know what kind of expression is on his face–blank shock? Terror? It must not be too bad because Alvarez just laughs with a levity Jean can’t mirror.

“I know, weird right?” she grins at him, rolling her eyes. “From what I understand, Cleo is basically our beloved captain–plus some wisdom from the universe.” She shrugs. “I’ve kind of just accepted it at this point.”  

The apartment he shares with Knox is covered in plants. They’re lined on every windowsill, clustered in corners on the floor and the table. Knox cares for them all meticulously, watering them each at different intervals with differing amounts, talking quietly all the while. They seem to bloom a little brighter once he’s spoken to them. Knox seems to glow a little brighter once he’s spoken to them.

“You have to give them enough attention,” Knox explains when he catches Jean staring at him over the top of his book. “If they don’t know you believe in them, how can you expect them to grow?”

Jean doesn’t know what he expected his move to the Trojans to be like, but it wasn’t this. It wasn’t an apartment filled with plants and sunlight. It wasn’t cups upon cups of tea, each somehow (magically? Jean really doesn’t know) always whichever kind Jean hadn’t known he’d wanted, but did. It wasn’t becoming familiar with Jeremy Knox, with his kindness, or the way that he often laughs at nothing in particular at all–it just happens sometimes, like all the light inside him bubbles over.

Jean didn’t expect these things, but he refuses to dwell on them long enough to discover if he minds.

“He’s a kitchen witch,” Jean admits to Renee a few months later, a declaration that’s met first with silence on the other end of their routine Skype call, and then– “What!”

A muffled bark of laughter and a scramble of feet. Onscreen Renee sighs, but it sounds amused, and suddenly Allison Reynolds is budging into frame.

“Sorry to interrupt,” the dealer says, sounding anything but. The smile on her face is near-predatory. “Did you just say that Jeremy Knox, USC’s patented Sunshine Boy, is, in fact, a kitchen witch?”

His roommate had never come out and said as much, but Jean had put together the pieces. He quirks an eyebrow at Renee and nods in confirmation.

Reynolds practically cackles at that, whipping out her phone. “Oh my god, Kevin’s going to die. It’s all his domestic fantasies come to life.” She stands, typing furiously as she walks offscreen. Jean hears a door shut, laughter fading, and then he and Renee are alone.

“You know,” Renee says after a moment, circumventing the tension that Kevin’s name tends to bring, “I had thought he’d be a werewolf. The Trojans always seemed to run like pack.”

“It was… unexpected,” Jean concedes. “Alvarez is the actual werewolf. There are others on the team as well, but Jeremy is still their alpha.” He sounds confused even to this own ears. (To be fair, it was very nontraditional. Alvarez’s explanation to Jean on the matter when she and Laila were on campus in July had consisted of a brusque, “It doesn’t matter that he’s not a wolf, Moreau, he’s our chosen alpha. We’re living in progressive times here, please.”)

“So he’s Jeremy, now?”

Of course that’s what Renee chose to parse from that explanation. She’s smiling at him, far too knowing, and Jean huffs. “You’re reaching, Walker.”

Renee hums thoughtfully, and it’s something that Jean appreciates: she listens, and when she chooses to reply each word has been fully considered. When she finally speaks it’s with a genuine smile.

“Los Angeles sounds like a wonderful place.”

Los Angeles is many things. Jean has been here six months, and that’s about all he’s been able to solidly conclude.

Los Angeles is no-contact play until mid-July as prescribed by the team physician, months longer than would have been allowed at the Nest. It’s weekly appointments with his therapist stipulated in his contract.

Los Angeles is Jeremy Knox’s frown of concern whenever Jean pushes himself to the point of strain, the delighted grin when Jean surprises him. It’s a shared apartment on the eighth floor, one that’s lined with large windows and filled with plants. It’s cat fur being one more reason to stop wearing black.

Los Angeles is joining a starting line including but not limited to a kitchen witch, a seer, and a werewolf. It’s Jean never once being asked to confirm or deny who or what he is.

Los Angeles takes some getting used to.

Jeremy gives him a cactus for Halloween.

He leaves it on Jean’s side table for him to find when he wakes up from his post-class, pre-practice nap (Because that’s a thing he does now. Naps.). It’s a tiny thing, maybe an inch and a half across, in a blue painted pot. He put a bow on it and everything. Jean squints at it and goes to find his roommate.

Jeremy is entrenched in his thesis work, glasses on, chewing distractedly on a pen–he barely notices Jean approaching until Jean sticks the plant practically under his nose.

“What is this?”

Jeremy blinks up at him owlishly. “A… cactus?” the confusion clears and he frowns. “Wait, don’t you like it?”

Jean sighs and sits on the other end of the couch. “Yes, I–thank you. I meant, why?”

Jeremy just blinks again. “It’s Samhain,” he says, as if that should be obvious.

“It’s what?”

“It’s Halloween!” Jeremy chirps, smiling now.

Jean frowns; he doesn’t think Jeremy is understanding his point. “Yes, but… do people usually give each other gifts on Halloween?” Not that Jean’s celebrated it, but from the way Laila and Alvarez had talked, it seemed like a children’s holiday–or an excuse to dress up in costume and party.

Jeremy leans back on the couch and looks across at Jean. “Not everybody… but we do in my family,” he shrugs. “It’s a bigger deal for some of them, but it’s not like I can really drop by to celebrate so–I dunno. Thought it’d be nice to celebrate with you too.” He smiles at Jean, backlit by the setting sun coming through the window, and he–Jean could swear he was glowing, radiating light.

Jean shakes his head, looking at the cactus in his lap instead. He cups his hands carefully around the pot. “Thank you,” he says, and Jeremy hums happily, turning back to his work.

Jean manages to make it until January without anyone finding out about him, which, honestly, is better than he’d let himself hope. But better doesn’t stop the panic that rises when Jeremy (because yes, he’s Jeremy now) stumbles into their bedroom unawares, back early from errands, breaking off his rant about grocery lines mid-sentence as he notices Jean on the floor.

Cradling a birdcage.

“Jean?” Jeremy asks cautiously, head tipped to the side in curiosity. His eyes are locked on the cage. “Is that–a bird?”

Jean’s mouth is suddenly dry, and he finds himself floundering for words. His grip on the cage goes white-knuckled.

“It’s a dove,” he manages, finally. Obviously. He wants to run but he’s frozen.

“A dove,” Jeremy repeats, leaning against the doorframe to their bedroom. He looks a bit bewildered, considering; Jean finds himself distracted by how Jeremy hasn’t tried to come any closer after finding him. Suddenly Jeremy straightens, a small grin growing on his face.

“Jean Moreau, have you been hiding a familiar?”

It’s said innocently, half in jest. Jean thinks he could take it as an out, thinks that might have been Jeremy’s intention. Jean knows his roommate well enough now to know that if Jean wanted to keep this secret, he could.

Which is why it’s all the more strange and terrifying that he finds himself spilling the truth.  

What he was was human. A cloverhand with the ability to see the fae, to see magic. To his family, this made him valuable. It made him a bartering piece.

What he became was collateral. A prisoner to the game and to the Nest, kept pet to the self-proclaimed Raven King. He was both guard and whipping boy. They broke him, again, again, and still they demanded more. They tore the soul from his body, trapped it in a cage. To instill obedience, they said. Perfect loyalty in a perfect court.

What he is is a gallowglass. Soulless. Even freedom couldn’t change that.

It’s awkward afterward. Of course it is. Jeremy is frozen in the doorway, wide-eyed, hands clutched tight to his sleeves. Jean can’t blame him, because now Jeremy knows. Not everything, no details, but enough. He knows that Jean is soulless, because his soul is sitting in a cage on his lap in the middle of their bedroom.

“Okay,” Jeremy says finally, snapping out of his daze. “Okay.” Jean braces himself for judgement, and–

“This calls for tea.”

Jeremy flees the room for the kitchen, Cleo close on his heels. Jean blinks.

“What.”  

A result of living with a kitchen witch is the way the teakettle water seems to boil in no time at all as Jeremy flits around their small dining area, pulling herbs from various jars on various shelves, pinching and rolling them into two identical teabags.

“Do you want a cup?” Jeremy asks belatedly, distractedly when Jean stumbles into the kitchen after him. He doesn’t wait for Jean to answer before continuing, shaking his head. “No, of course I’ll make you a cup. Tea always makes things better.”

Jeremy doesn’t look at him until they’re seated across from each other at their tiny kitchen table,  knees almost knocking, their steaming, sweet-smelling mugs in hand.

“Okay,” Jeremy starts, taking a big breath. He holds it. Exhales. “Jean.”

Fuck, this is really happening. “Yes?”

“In the cage. That dove is your soul?”

Jean nods, staring down into his tea.

“Okay,” Jeremy repeats, then frowns. “Jean?”

“What?”

“Please don’t tell me you’ve been hiding your soul stuffed under your bed in some box.”

Jean opens his mouth to defend himself, then closes it again because that is exactly what he has been doing.

“Jean,” Jeremy cries, looking stricken. The teakettle begins to heat unbidden, sensing his distress. “The poor thing could’ve suffocated!”

Jean sighs. “It’s not a real bird, Jeremy, it doesn’t need–“

“Damn right it’s not a bird, Jean. That’s your soul! You’ve been keeping your soul stuffed under the bed!” Jeremy exclaims disbelievingly, surprisingly fierce.

Jean frowns. What is there to say? Once more, the perplexity of Jeremy Knox rears its head. It doesn’t take much to get him riled up–but it’s only ever defensive, on behalf of other people. He has no issue standing toe to toe with Jean, but only ever does it for the sake of protecting Jean from himself. So Jean just lowers his eyes and says nothing.

Seeing this, Jeremy deflates.

“Drink your tea, okay? It’ll get cold,” Jeremy says, voice gone gentle. His knee nudges Jean’s under the table.

Neither speaks again until their cups are near-empty.

“Why-” Jeremy starts, then snaps his mouth shut. He says instead, “Can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

Jean is wary of what his question could be, but nods anyway.

“You said you got your soul back once Renee got you out of the Nest. You have it with you here, now. If that’s true, why haven’t you… put it back?” Jean is already shaking his head even as Jeremy continues, “I don’t really know how it works, but…”

“I can’t. I’ve tried,” Jean says.

The look on Jeremy’s face is all kinds of devastating, honestly, and Jean isn’t good with sympathy, never having been shown it; he looks away.

“There has to be a way,” Jeremy insists, but Jean just shakes his head again. He keeps his eyes on the row of succulents Jeremy has lined along the kitchen window instead of the kitchen witch himself.

“I’ve tried. Renee has tried,” Jean emphasizes, both of them knowing what a strong witch Renee Walker was known to be. He frowns, frustrated. “There are ways to make a gallowglass, but they can’t be unmade. It’s faerie magic–what’s done can’t simply be undone.”

“Faerie magic,” Jeremy mutters to himself, staring into his tea.

Jean waits for him to reach a verdict: at best, Jean is expecting to be asked to leave, to switch rooms. At worst, he’s expecting to be kicked off the team. The dread is just settling in his stomach when a fluffy bundle pounces into his lap. It turns in a neat circle once, curling up before settling in to nap.

“Cleo,” Jeremy scolds, but he’s half-hiding a smile behind the rim of his mug. The tension is broken and the dread lifts from Jean’s shoulders.

“It’s okay.” Jean surprises himself saying it, because it is. But then a thought strikes him. “Is-is it okay?”

Cleo is Jeremy’s familiar, an extension of himself. His mind makes the connections unbidden, the way it had all those month ago when Alvarez had spelled it out for him. Jeremy to Cleo to Jean to the dove. The cat is a part of Jeremy’s soul, warm and grounding and tucked against Jean’s stomach.

“Of course it’s okay,” Jeremy murmurs. “It’s you.” He’s looking at Jean with clear eyes, fiddling with a teaspoon. Something warm settles in Jean’s chest, a knot loosening as Jeremy smiles at him, gathering his mug and heading to the counter to fix another cup.

Of course, he says. It’s you.

As easy as that.

(“Don’t put it back in the dark,” Jeremy says that night, voice gentle as the touch at Jean’s elbow, anchoring him to their room, to this moment. Jean puts the cage on the dresser instead.

Much later, when nightmares more vicious than usual shatter him awake, Jean hears a dull thump and the patter of feet before Cleo is curling up on the bed next to him. She butts her head against his stomach, and Jean focuses on the way her tiny chest rises and falls with each breath as his shaking slowly subsides.

He lowers a hand to her head, gentles it down her back, and lets the quiet rumble of her purring piece him back to the present.)

Having his soul on display is… incredibly distracting. Which is to say that for the week following Jean can hardly keep his eyes off it when they’re in the same room. He’s self-conscious of it at first, before he notices Jeremy having a similar problem.

Cleo is the giveaway, of course. She’d been obviously curious the first couple days, but a few firm looks from Jeremy had kept her at a distance. Then Jean had come home from class on a Thursday to find Cleo on his dresser, budged right up to the cage and napping in the sunlight.

“She thinks it’s lovely,” Jeremy explains later when they’ve both settled into their beds. Tucked to Jeremy’s stomach, Cleo shifts in protest, letting out a soft chirping rumble. Jeremy rolls his eyes. “The loveliest thing,” he corrects. “I would say, ‘Her words, not mine,’ but I don’t think that excuse works in our case.”

Jeremy grins at him from across the space between their beds. The bedside lamp could be playing tricks on him, but Jean thinks he sees a flush dusting Jeremy’s cheeks.  

From the cage across the room there is a soft flutter of wings.

The thing is, Jeremy talks to the dove.

Jean doesn’t think he’s meant to find out, but he does. It’s an eerie reversal of the night Jeremy saw the dove, but this time it’s Jean almost walking into their room unannounced. He stops himself just in time when he hears Jeremy’s voice.

He’s sitting on the end of Jean’s bed, next to the birdcage… talking. Just talking, almost in the way he does with his plants.

He’s saying, I really want to win this season, for all of us, and I can’t imagine what this year would have been without him, you know?, and I wish you could tell me how to open this cage–I think that would make Jean very happy.

The moment feels soft. Fragile. Jean leaves quietly, before Jeremy can finish, and before he can hear any more.

They’re finishing some late night homework in the living room when Jeremy brings up the idea. Jean is laid across the couch with a lit reading, Cleo curled up by his knee, and Jeremy is sprawled across the floor surrounded by thesis work.

“Hey, what are you doing for Spring Break?” Jeremy asks out of the blue, and Jean cranes his head back to stare at him.

“You think I have plans?” Jean replies, turning back to his book. On the floor, Jeremy huffs a laugh, fidgets. Silence. Then–

“What if you visited Renee? I mentioned it to her, she’d love to see you.”

Jean files away those bits of information, that Jeremy and Renee talk, and that Jeremy and Renee talk about him.

“Okay,” is all he says, and Jeremy looks satisfied, turning back to his work. “I’ll text her.”

It’s no surprise to either of them when he’s on a flight to North Dakota two weeks later.

It’s a good week–Jean is surprised by how good. It’s relaxing, just Renee, Stephanie, and him. He gets daily updates from Laila and Alvarez on their trip to Arizona to see Laila’s family, and the Trojan group chat is as active as ever with everyone sharing whatever outlandish thing they’d done that week. The only oddity is Jeremy–or rather the lack of him.

It’s been complete radio silence from the captain since he’d said goodbye to Jean at the airport drop-off. At first Jean isn’t concerned; Jeremy hadn’t talked about his Spring Break plans, but Jean figures he’s plenty busy spending time with his family. But it’s still weird. Regardless of if Jean replies, Jeremy constantly blows up his phone with Snaps or texts or random links to pictures of cute dogs.

On Wednesday, Jean is watching a movie with Renee in the living room when he gets a text from Alvarez.

8:42 P.M.: have u talked to jer??? we havent heard from him all week

8:43 P.M.: and hes not answering his phone

8:43 P.M.: and like… now that im checking i cant feel him through the pack link?

8:44 P.M.: NOT IN A “HES DEAD” KINDA WAY

8:44 P.M: its just kinda fuzzy. like theres a blur where he should be

Jean feels cold all over, and then the dread start to pool disproportionately in the pit of his stomach. There’s no reason to be worried, Jean assures himself, Jeremy is just busy. And for some reason he’s blocking the pack link. It’s coincidence.

He pulls up Jeremy’s contact and presses call. Jean finds himself holding his breath, but the call doesn’t even ring, just goes straight to voicemail. Jeremy’s cheery answering recording chatters across the line, and Jean hangs up without leaving a message. There is a knot in his chest, tightening with each passing moment. His phone buzzes as Alvarez sends him another message.

8:45 P.M.: were lowkey freaking out jean

8:46 P.M.: jeremy doesnt do this kinda shit

“Jean?” Renee asks, and Jean jumps at her voice. From the open doorway to Jean’s guest room across the room the rattling of metal can be heard. The dove must be agitated, Jean observes absently.  “Jean, are you alright?”

“Alvarez texted,” he says, and a small part of him is surprised at how blank he sounds. “No one’s heard from Jeremy all break. His phone is dead, or off. They’re worried. She said–Alvarez can’t feel him over the pack bond.” His phone buzzes again.

8:49 P.M.: ANSWER YOUR PHONE MOREAU

8:51 P.M.: I haven’t heard from him. His phone went straight to voicemail.

When Jean looks up he expects worry from Renee–surprise, or words of assurance. She is fond of Jeremy Knox (who isn’t?). And when he looks over, the worry is there. But the surprise is suspiciously absent. The shock of that freezes him.

“What?” he chokes. “What do you know?”

Renee takes a deep breath and frowns, folding her hands in her lap as she turns to face Jean head on.

“He didn’t want you to find out,” she starts, and Jean stares at her.

“What did he do, Renee?” Jean repeats, a hollow desperation clawing at his insides like it hadn’t in months. “Where is he?”

“He didn’t say exactly where, but I assumed…”

“Renee.”

“If Alvarez can’t feel him, he’s probably in the Summer Court.”

The dread from before spills over; Jean’s world narrows to a point. He knows firsthand the cruelty of the faerie courts. Even the Summer Court, the most benevolent of them all, is the last place Jean would send Jeremy, and yet he’s gone, unasked, on Jean’s behalf. It’s suicide.

Renee is speaking to him again, but Jean can’t understand her. His phone is buzzing incessantly on his lap. Laila is calling him. He fumbles with it, but manages to answer.

“Jean! What the hell, where have you–“

“I know where he is.”

Staticky silence.

“Oh thank god, where is he?”    

Jean swallows and closes his eyes. “The Summer Court. He–planned it, or something. With Renee, I don’t know. He’s seeking audience with the Faerie Queen.” As soon as he says it he knows it’s true.

He hears Alvarez yelling over the line, and Laila is asking more questions Jean doesn’t know the answer to. As for one, as for why, well. There’s really only one reason it could be.

“He’s–so stupid.” Jean scrubs a hand over his eyes. He’s trembling. “He’s doing it for me, the fucking idiot, if I’d known I would have never…”

Never left California. Never let Jeremy risk this.

Beside him, Renee shifts and says softly, “Don’t you think that’s why he didn’t tell you?”

Jean digs his fingers into his thigh, grounding himself. “Stupid,” he repeats.

“Jeremy has the monopoly on stupidity, Jean,” Laila says, sounding calmer now despite her worry. “We knew that. He cares too much.”

Jean huffs a laugh, a slight choked thing.

“What do we do now?” he asks. Laila is quiet for a while.

“We trust that he knew what he was doing. We trust him. And we wait.”

Renee tells him that the conversation with Jeremy went something like this:

“Hey Renee–would it be okay if Jean came and stayed with you for Spring Break?”

“Of course, he’s always welcome. But, Jeremy–can I ask why you’re the one asking, not him? Is everything okay?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry–didn’t mean to worry you. Jean’s doing really well actually. He seems… happier lately.”

“That’s good. Then why do you need to get him out of California?”

Of course Renee saw right through him. Jeremy was quiet for a long moment, then continued.

“There’s something I need to do. And I don’t think that Jean would approve of me doing it.”

“Will he be safe if you do it?”

“If I do it right, I think it’ll really help him. I just… need some answers.”

“And what about you?”

“Hm?”

“He won’t like it much if you get hurt, Jeremy.”

“Oh!” Jeremy had laughed. “Well I hope it doesn’t come to that.”

Jean gets the call four days later.

It’s been six hours since he landed in L.A. It’s been forty-five minutes since a door appeared on the dove’s cage; Jean hasn’t been able to take his eyes off it. He hasn’t dared open it, merely brought it with him to the couch where they’ve been ever since.

The callerID flashes as his phone begins to buzz. Jean answers on the first ring.

“Knox,” Jean says, and he doesn’t want to imagine what he sounds like. Awed, angry, concerned, fond. Jeremy had done it. Somehow, he had.

“Jean,” Jeremy says, his voice warm, tired. Jean could collapse under the weight of it.

“You’re back then.” His fingers clutch at the phone, and he wills his voice to remain steady.

“I am.”

Jean wants to ask him, wants to say, What have you done? What did you give them? Nothing comes without a price. What comes out is: “Where are you?” Somehow that feels more important at the moment.

“Um… about an hour outside Fresno? I think. I’m looking for where I left the truck.”

Jean doesn’t reply, and the silence hangs on the line.

“Jean, I’m–“ Jeremy starts, and Jean cuts him off because he can’t hear apologies from Jeremy right now. Not about this.

“Is Cleo with you?” There’s a moment, and then Jeremy laughs. Jean can hear his exhaustion, but it still warms him to his core.

(He could have been dead, he could have been gone, but he’s here, he’s on the other end of the line– )

“Yeah, she’s here.” A soft of sort relief settles over Jean’s bones. “She’s missed you.”

There are many things that Jean wants to say in that moment.

(I missed her, too.

You’re such a fucking idiot.

Please tell me you’re alright.

I never expected anything like you.)

What he says is: “Come home.”

The first thing Jean does when Jeremy walks through the door is hand him a cup of tea. Jeremy blinks at him, then at the cup, eyes lidded with sleep. He takes it, smiling, and Jean can finally breathe again.

At his feet there is Cleo, rubbing up against his calf, butting her head against him, meowing impatiently until he picks her up. She settles instantly, tucked in the crook of his arm.

“What did you give them?” Jean asks, because in the end that’s what it comes down to. But Jeremy just shakes his head, dismissive.

“Did it work?” he counters, eyes wide, and Jean gestures to the living room.

“Go see for yourself.” Jeremy does.

“There’s a door,” he says, quietly, knelt in front of the cage. He looks up at Jean, elated. “There’s actually a door!”

“Did you think there wouldn’t be?” Jean asks, sitting on the couch; Cleo jumps out of his arms to curl up on a cushion. Jean knows if there was even a chance he hadn’t succeeded, Jeremy wouldn’t have come back.

Jeremy moves to sit next to him, the cage between them. “Well no, but… they weren’t very specific with the how of it. Just that it would.”

“Jeremy,” Jean says after a moment on silence. “Faeries only work in equal exchange. What did you give them?”

“Nothing.” Jeremy looks suddenly frustrated, shifting to face him. “Nothing, Jean, I didn’t give them anything because there was nothing to exchange. It’s your soul. It’s yours.” Jeremy breathes deeply to calm himself down, and slumps back against the couch. “I just reminded them who they were dealing with.”

Jean is still, blinking at Jeremy’s vehemence. Then the wording strikes him.

“Who–who they’re dealing with?” Jean looks at the boy next to him, eyes glinting, practically alight in his frustration, in the name of protecting Jean. “Who are they dealing with?”

Immediately Jeremy’s eyes widen and he looks away. “I…” He chews his lip then sighs a long breath, resigned. “I never really told you, did I…? What I am.”

“You’re a witch. A kitchen witch,” Jean says, but Jeremy is shaking his head. Jean frowns, not understanding. “But you have a familiar. And the tea, and your plants…” he trails off, watching Jeremy carefully.

“My gram,” Jeremy starts, staring resolutely across the room. “My great, great, great grandmother–was a cloverhand. Like you.” He pauses, lets that sink in. “She caught the eye of one of the daoine sídhe, the fae. He was disguised as human, under glamour probably, but she saw through him instantly. She chose to let him court her, met him every step of the way… and eventually she became one of them.

“He wasn’t the Summer King at the time, but… A couple hundred years later, and he was. And she is Queen. And all of this is to say,” Jeremy takes a deep breath, finally looking at Jean. “That I have faerie blood, and a claim to the Court if I ever wanted it.” Jean’s eyes widen at that, and Jeremy quickly continues, hands held placatingly. “I don’t! I don’t want that, I already have the Trojan Court.”

Jean is silent as his brain scrambles to process this new information. Jeremy isn’t a witch–he’d never been a witch, Jean had just assumed. Jeremy is part fae, with a claim to the Summer Court. He’d used that influence to give Jean a chance.

When Jean doesn’t say anything Jeremy begins to fidget nervously. “Look, you’re probably freaking out, or like–like reading too much into it? But honestly I didn’t do anything, I just told them what they should already fucking know, because it’s your soul, Jean, like what the fuck–“

“Jeremy,” Jean tries to interrupt before the other boy can get too worked up–he was well on his way already.

“Yeah?” Jeremy is looking at him, nervous, and Jean wants to ask him why. Jean wants a lot of things lately, more than he’d ever thought possible–he wonders when that happened.

“Thank you,” is what he says instead.

And Jeremy smiles.

Jean doesn’t open the cage that night, or the night after that, or anytime in the week following. When he finally does it feels almost… too normal. It’s after practice on a Friday; they have no game that weekend, so there’s two days free to themselves. It’s a novel concept, one he never could have foreseen a year ago.

Jeremy is napping on the couch, Cleo snoozing on his stomach. Jean had left them out there to do some work at his desk, but found himself too distracted to get much done. His eyes keep straying to the cage on his desk, on the door and the dove behind it.

Almost before he realizes it he’s crossed the room, fingers twisting the latch; the door springs free. The dove is watching him cautiously, wings fluttering. Jean reaches inside, his hands gently cupped around its wings as he pulls it from the cage. His heart is pounding in his ears. The dove is shaking in his hands, warm and vividly alive. He brings it to his chest and presses it close.

One moment the dove is there, the next Jean’s palms are pressed empty to his chest. He’s notices he’s gasping, knees trembling. It feels like the first breath of air you take when you step outside in winter, like falling back asleep in the morning when there’s nothing to call you out of bed. Jean feels overwhelmed, he feels light, he feels… happy.

“Jean?” he hears Jeremy call sleepily from the living room, and then padded footsteps approach. “I’m sorry,” Jeremy says, rubbing sleepily at his eyes, “I fell asleep in the middle of our conversation, didn’t I? Thesis is just kicking my ass, and with playoffs coming up…” he trails off, noticing the sight in front of him: Jean shaking, the cage open and empty in front of him.

“You did it,” Jeremy whispers, eyes wide. “You did it!” he cheers, rushing forward, throwing an arm across his shoulders, and then Jean is turning into him, hands gripping at his waist and they’re hugging, gripping each other tight. Jeremy is laughing in his ear, and Jean–

Jean holds on.

(on ao3 here)

[themusemenageric-blog]

MUSES

Yu-Gi-Oh! DM

Atem/Yami

Yuugi Mutou

Ryo Bakura

Ishizu Ishtar

Kingdom Hearts

Sora

Venitas

Terra

Master Xehanort

Master Eraqus

Aqua

Naminé

Axel

Red vs Blue

Alpha Church/Epsilon Church

Tex

Grif

Agent Washington

Doc/O'Malley

Felix

Dr. Grey

The Disastrous Life of Saiki K.

Kusuo Saiki

Shun Kaido

Kokomi Teruhashi

Blue Exorcist

Rin Okumura

Shiemi Moriyama

Father Fujimoto

Mephisto Pheles

Dragon Age

Alistair Theirin

Loghain MacTir

Flemeth

Solas

Merrill

The Iron Bull

Anders

Little Witch Academia

Lotte

Sucy

Diana

Harry Potter

Draco Malfoy

Hermione Granger

Luna Lovegood

Tom Riddle

Voldemort

Severus Snape

Madoka Magica

Akemi Homura

Madoka Kaname

Kyuubey

Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood

Riza Hawkeye

Kimbley

Olivier Armstrong

Envy

The Dwarf in the Flask/Father

Greed

Izumi Curtis

Samurai Jack

Aku

Demongo

Avatar: The Last Airbender

Aang

Katara

Sokka

Zuko

Toph

Uncle Iroh

Bumi

Azula

Ty Lee

Original Characters

Moria (Yu-Gi-Oh)

Celestine (Kingdom Hearts)

Cleo (Kingdom Hearts)

Moriion (Dragon Age)

Maleficar (Dragon Age)

Gilda (Dragon Age)

Mera (Dragon Age)

Kagami Hadaai (Saiki K.)

Blade (Fandomless)

Setarin (Fandomless)

Kimani (Fandomless)

Aneksen (Fandomless)

Thryth (Fandomless)

Danrya (Fandomless)

Trevor (Fandomless)

Marcus (Fandomless)

Douglas (Fandomless)

[side-effect-of-the-meds]

I gotta say I was a bit... surprised to see Ania and Erin starting to take care for a child so early because I kinda wanted to see them to be able to explore each other and their relationship more and with a child there are other priorities other than that. But, I’m really curious to see how this all evolves because it’s a beautiful start and the story is amazing

OMFG I was just about to do a post clarifying this bc I realized that I hadn’t really talked about it in Jeanie’s story. Thanks so much for mentioning it, love

The girls ARE NOT raising Cleo. Not yet, at least. There is one reason and one reason alone as to why Cleo calls Erin and Ania, Mama and Mommy and it’s this: Kevin is a thot.

 While the girls are at the court, they spend a lot of time with Cleo bc she’s irresistible. She’s too smol and adorable for people not to gravitate towards her. Erin and Ania just happen to spend more time with her than most of the others. Nicky makes a joke that the three of them look like a family and it gives Kev an idea.  He spends a lot of time at the court bc it’s his life. As such, he sees Cleo often. He’ll take Cleo into the common room where they meet and sit her on his lap. He’ll point at the two of them and quietly recite the words ‘Mama’ and ‘Mommy’. They’re close enough that Cleo can differentiate between the two of them but not close enough for them to hear him. 

One day the foxes are filing into the Court, and Cleo is holding onto one of the couches. She’s trying to climb up into Erin’s spot when she hears everyone coming in. She turns around to watch them, a massive smile on her face. When Erin files in, her eyes grow wide.

“You lil’ shit. You’re too small to get up there on your own,” Erin drawls as she goes to pick Cleo up. She picks her up and Cleo grabs her face. 

“Mama!” she cries. Erin nearly drops her. The entire court is silent. “Mama,” Cleo says again. Everyone is screaming. Just screaming. Even Wymack and Abby bc wtf. Kevin is wheezing with laughter. Erin catches sight of him and realizes what he’s done. 

“Alright, Cleo,” Erin says, setting her down on the couch. “Mama’ll be right back. Right now, she’s got a bastard to kill.” Kevin is sprinting for the door with Erin on his heels. 

Wymack ends up moving in with Abby once Jeanie leaves to help raise Cleo. She remains in their care until Ania and Erin get married. This happens when Cleo is around 10. Ania plays for Chicago and Erin joins a team in Detroit. They’re 5 hrs by car from one another and 2.5 hrs by plane from Cleo. It’s about a 12 hr drive from Columbia to Chicago but Wymack drives Cleo and Abby up there every year to watch the girls play each other. It’s a tradition. 

However, the girls both get offered a place on the team in New York. I’m not getting into the details bc I’m saving it for later but this is when they decide to get married. They have their wedding at the Foxhole Court bc they are massive nerds and all the Foxes attend. During the reception, they pop the most important question of their lives. They ask Cleo to come live with them. The girls had been talking to Wymack and Abby about it for a while but they were putting it off bc they weren’t living together and they didn’t want Cleo to have to keep splitting her time between the two of them. Now they had a three-bedroom apartment picked out one for them, one for Cleo, and one for guests Erin insists it would be awful lonely if only one of them was always full. Cleo cries because this is everything she’s ever wanted. That’s when the girls officially adopt Cleo and the three of them move to New York together. 

So the girls are together for 9-10 years before they’re actually taking care of Cleo. While in college, it’s a little more babysitting than actually raising a kid. 

[side-effect-of-the-meds]

Does Erin wear makeup? Cause I picture her being like ‘I’m going to wear foundation that doesn’t cover my acne scars or permanent dark circles all that well with killer eyeliner and if anyone gives me makeup advice I’ll fight them immediately’

All hcs about my girls are valid so if that's how you see her, I support you.

Personally though, Erin is only human. Growing up in California as a short, thicc girl with fairly pale skin was hard for her. Everyone else was tall and thin with tacky, orange spray tans. Was it ugly? Yes. Did Erin want to fit in anyway? Yes.

That's hard to believe isn't it? Erin Jude Minyard: Palmetto State's deadliest investment; Kevin Day's cold-hearted psychotic slut? Im talking about how she was perceived. Swear to god if anyone calls her a slut i will fight you. There was a time when she did. Being a teenage girl is so, so hard. Even Erin couldn't help but want to be traditionally beautiful. She was on the cheese diet from The Devil Wears Prada for a while before she met Aaron. She also caked her face with makeup.

You know she was 13 when she met Aaron? 13. Thirteen fucking years old and she was walking around looking like a pied clown trying to fit society's bullshit beauty standards.

It was during her stint in juvie that Erin gives up makeup. There's no makeup in juvie. The girls make do with what they can find. Vaseline and graphite for eyeliner. Vaseline and newsprint to make eye shadow and lipstick. Vaseline for everything. No I have not been to juvie. I just did a bit of research before answering this. With all of that, Erin just didn't feel like doing it anymore. Instead she just resigns herself to her appearance. Moving out to Columbia a lot of the girls were as pale as she was. Aaron was as pale as she was. He had the same big, brown eyes and full lashes. His face was just as pockmarked with acne. Erin might not have loved herself but she loved Aaron. Since Aaron looked just like her, Erin found that she was starting to like herself just a little bit too.

Bee helps her a lot. Bee has seen Erin's scars. She doesn't look at them with pity. Instead she rolls back her own sleeves to show Erin her own. She talks about her own self esteem issues and offers Erin advice as to how she might get over her own.

Erin gives up all makeup outside of eyeliner and mascara. Anything else is hiding who she is.

Ania is the one that really gets to her. Erin preaches a lot of self-love to Ania, especially post-Evermore/pre-Baltimore. Look, Erin is trying to do the things Bee tells her too but she doesn't have enough of the outside positive reinforcement it needs for it to take hold. Ania provides a lot of it. When she steps off the court she'll tell Erin how great she was. Sometimes Erin helps her with her homework and Ania will tell her she's the best and ask to kiss her as thanks. One time, a climax hazy Ania looks down at Erin and whipers, "You're no saint, Jude Minyard. You're a God," before kissing her soundly on the lips to stop any protests Erin may try to offer.

After Riko's death, Ania gets really into makeup and it becomes a tradition for Kevin to do Ania's makeup as a relaxation/bonding thing between the two of them. Erin absolutely flips her shit. Ania Josten is the most beautiful woman Erin's ever seen only bc she doesn't ever look in the goddamn mirror but I digress. How could she cover up herself like that?!!?!?!?! It takes a lot of coaxing before Erin gives up what she's so worked up about and Ania just kinda stares at her like ????? Makeup is fun. It makes her feel good. Wearing it doesn't mean she doesn't love herself, it just means she enjoys looking like this too. Their compromise is that Ania has to stand in front of the mirror and say 5 things she loves about herself. She always picks 5 things she knows Erin loves about her and it's soft. Ania also stops wearing makeup over her scars. They're a part of her and she knows that part of Erin's problem is that she doesn't like Ania being ashamed of her scars. In exchange, Erin isn't allowed to wear her armbands in the dorm room. Ania also makes Erin say five things that she loves about herself in the mirror too.

Once Erin lets herself relax a little she starts to fall back in love with makeup. I talked about Allison and Erin becoming friends a long time ago but here's the basics: Allison shows her affection through material possessions and no one has ever spoiled Erin before. The two of them are slowly but surely whittling away Allison's fortune by blowing it on makeup. Allison doesn't mind bc she actually ends up becoming really close to Erin. She's like a baby sister to her. Its so cute. Anyway, Erin will let Ania do her makeup for her but only for special occassions. After they get married, it's not uncommon for Ania to come home to find Erin lying on her back on the couch with Cleo doing Erin's makeup. It looks like shit. Erin loves it. Cleo isn't allowed to do her own makeup until she's passed Erin's whole self-love course.

So, in short, Erin tends to stick to eyeliner and mascara. Sometimes she'll pop a little highlighter on bc why not. For special occasions she will do full-glam look but only if Ania or Cleo do it for her.

That just about covers Eri and her relationship with makeup. Thanks so much for your ask, love 💕

[side-effect-of-the-meds]

Major angst and general pain warning. Rape mention. Blood mention.

I got an ask regarding Fem!Jean and I will be addressing it soon, but first, we need to talk about Riko. So... here’s that + the start of Jean’s bit.

So let’s start with her sexuality. She’s a lesbian but she doesn’t talk about it. 

Not anymore at least. 

The second Nathania Wesninski stalked into the Raven Court, Riko knew she wasn’t ‘normal’. All the girls on t.v. kissed boys. They all stayed up late talking about boys. They swooned whenever one of them smiled at them. Riko did all those things too but never about boys. Only about Nathania. Late at night, she’d lay awake gushing about how amazing Nathania was while Kevin tried to drown out the sound of her voice with his pillow. 

She was so pretty. Riko felt her heart swell when Nathania’s icy eyes thawed and her crooked smile broke out across her face. Nat’s fiery hair matched her fiery temper. All her life, Riko had lived under her uncle’s rules. Don’t do this. Don’t do that. Don’t touch that. Don’t go there. Don’tDon’tDon’tDon’t

Nat didn’t care. When Tetsuji said don’t touch the racquets, Riko watched as Nat waited for him to turn his back before racing over to the stand. Clambering onto the sofa, Nat turned to look at Riko. Pressing a finger to her lips, she turned back and reached up for the racquet. She dragged her hand across the length of the stick and tugged at the netting. Rolling up to the balls of her feet, Nat pressed a kiss to the joint where the head of the racquet connected to the handle. Just before Tetsuji could turn back, she hopped down and raced back to Kevin who was staring at her, his mouth wide open. He smacked her across the back of the head and scolded for directly disobeying The Master. Nathania scowled him. Seeing Riko still watching her, she gave her a wink and a smile. Riko thought she was going to die then and there. 

In the two years Nathania spends at Evermore, Riko’s feelings only intensify. She finds herself tripping over her own feet and running into walls because she’s too busy staring at Nat to watch where she’s going. 

Riko ends up watching some rom-com with Kevin, Nat, and their newest addition to the court: Jean!!!!

She sees a lesbian couple that gets one scene in which one of them kisses the other on the cheek when she catches the bouquet at the main couple’s wedding. 

Riko is shook. 

At practice the next week, Nat stops Kevin in an impossible move and Riko is starstruck. She runs over and hugs Nat close. When Nat pulls her helmet off, she looks so pretty. Riko can’t stop herself from pressing a rough kiss to Nat’s cheek. Nat is shook for half a second, before laughing and returning Ko’s kiss with one of her own. If Ania had stayed at the Raven Court, she and Riko would have been a thing and Riko would have been incredibly soft. 

Here’s where things get bad tho. After Nat left, The Master grabbed Riko by her hair and dragged her into his office. Jean stood paralyzed while Kevin banged frantically on the door, Riko’s pleas and sobs ringing through the locker room. Riko couldn’t walk right for the next few days. Neither Kevin nor Jean could discern why. All of Riko’s bruises had been on her upper body. There had been a few running up and down her neck, scratches over her back, and bruises on her wrists and hips. None of those should have inhibited her from walking. 

Back then, none of them had understood what The Master had done to Riko. A few years later, the three of them heard the word rape for the first time. The man on the t.v. provided a fairly in-depth explanation of it.

“How could someone do something like that to another person?” Kevin asked, horror painting his face. Suddenly, he gasped. When Jean turned to see what had happened, she had to stifle one of her own. Riko had gone several shades paler than usual. Her limbs trembled as tears poured down her face. 

“That- that’s what he does to me,” she whispered, pointing at the screen. “That’s what Uncle does to me.” In between her sobs, Riko explained to them what her uncle had been doing every night once the others fell asleep. Jean and Kevin knew he called Riko from her room every night but they had never once thought this was why. The Master was trying to use ‘corrective’ rape to ‘fix’ her. All Jean and Kevin could do was sit and stare. It took everything in them to hold their own tears back. Seconds, minutes, hours, days passed once Riko finished. None of them knew what to do. They couldn’t tell anyone. Who would believe them? 

“If- if you’re fixed, will he stop?” Kevin asked finally. 

“I’m not broken!” Riko cried. 

“If you pretend to be straight, will he stop?” Kevin amended. 

“I- I don’t know. Maybe?” she replied. 

“Then maybe you should just pretend,” he said softly. “Just for now. After we leave, you can do what you want. You’ve just got to pretend for… ten years?” 

“That’s a long time,” Jean whispered. 

“It’s all we can do,” Kevin insisted. “We’ve spent our entire lives pretending to be fine. What’s one more secret?” 

“But how?” Riko asked. Silence engulfed the three of them. 

“You could try kissing a boy,” Kevin offered. “Reyes isn’t all bad.”

“No. I don’t want him getting any ideas,” Riko snapped. 

“Then it has to be one of us,” Jean said. Riko looked between the two of them, a frown furrowing her brow. 

“It’s just pretend, right?” she asked. 

“Just pretend,” Kevin replied a little too quickly. 

After a moment’s consideration, Riko agreed. She picked Kevin as her ‘boyfriend’. From that they on, she held his hand and pressed chaste kisses to his cheek when The Master was watching. Their act worked perfectly. Maybe a little too perfectly. Somewhere along the line, Jean realized that Kevin wasn’t pretending to love Riko. Whenever she walked past, Kevin couldn’t take his eyes off her. When she brushed against him, he leaned into her touch. Kevin had caught feelings and he had caught them hard.  

 From the moment she and Kevin started dating, she began to shut herself down. Feelings had been the source of all her pain. If she didn’t feel, she couldn’t get hurt, could she? Jean watched as her best friend started to cut away all the bits and pieces of herself that made her Ko. 

Jean is trans and she’s amazing and I love her. 

Riko might have cut herself off from most of her feelings and desensitized herself but she still is soft for Jean… sometimes. 

Jean comes out to her and Riko is in pain. She doesn’t understand but she supports her bc Jean supported her. 

Jean can’t change her name to fit her gender identity because then Ichirou will find out and God only knows what he’ll do to her. 

And so the nickname, Jeanie, becomes a thing. 

Jeanie is close enough to Jean that Riko can deny any wrongdoing. Jean wishes that she could just change her name and fully lean into her gender identity but Riko will just look at her and Jean will shove all her feelings down. 

They tell Kevin and he agrees to call her by the nickname too. They also privately refer to Jeanie with ‘she/her’ pronouns because they know it makes her feel better. Most of the Nest is set up so that the dorms are separated by gender. Kevin and Riko’s are an exception because Tetsuji wants Riko to keep her eye on her pet. Jeanie ends up crashing there most nights so she doesn’t have to face being in the men’s dorm. She only ever uses the bathroom in the dorms because they’re private. The changing room is just something she has to deal with and she hates it so much. 

When Kevin leaves, Riko officially breaks. He promised he’d protect her from Tetsuji. He swore he’d always be by her side. When he leaves, Riko is convinced that he’s abandoned her. Jeanie can only watch in horror as Riko’s deterioration increases exponentially. 

She’s torn. She’s glad that Kevin left because he had to. Tetsuji broke his arm for nearly showing Riko up on the court. Riko had been treating him worse and worse too. She had never raised a hand at him but Jeanie knew she was manipulating him. She deprived him of touch and cut him up and used him to get whatever she wanted. It hurt Jeanie to watch all of it. They were her best friends, her only friends, and they were tearing each other apart. 

Also, Kevin isn’t innocent. There were so many times when Riko tried to break things off with him. He’d shrug and nonchalantly suggest that maybe it was better if Tetsuji went back to treating Riko like a blow-up doll. >:00000 

Truly despicable 

Kevin’s gone, Riko is in shambles, and Jeanie has never felt more alone. 

Two months after Kev’s flight from Evermore, he showed up as Palmetto State as the new assistant coach. Tetsuji is furious. He had beaten Riko black and blue when Kevin had first run but this was something else entirely. Jeanie had walked into The Master’s office to hand over some reports and found Riko bound and gagged with her face buried in the couch cushions, her uncle above her. The Master threw Jeanie out and locked the door. Jeanie banged on the door, kicking at it but it wouldn’t budge. She collapsed outside the door sobbing. An hour later, Riko hobbled out of the office. She was covered in bruises and one of her eyes had swollen shut. Her clothes were in tatters and she was limping. She grabbed Jeanie by her hair and dragged her back to the dorms. Riko didn’t speak for the rest of the month. She wouldn’t leave her room for the next seven months. 

Jeanie didn’t leave Riko’s side in those seven months either. It wasn’t wise to leave a pregnant woman on her own. 

The birth of Cleo Moriyama was Evermore’s best-kept secret. The team assumed that she was Kevin’s. They were wrong. Cleo was an abomination. She was the daughter of Tetsuji Moriyama. Since Riko found out she was pregnant, she had lost all feelings. The birth of Cleo gave her back only one: hate. 

Jeanie was horrified. Riko had wanted an abortion but Tetsuji had refused. As a result, Riko had only hate in her heart for her daughter. Cleo is left to cry all night and starve to death for all Riko could care. Jeanie spends her third year of college juggling school, practice, and a baby that isn’t even hers. 

On top of everything, Riko has no emotions. None. She looks at everyone and everything with a dead, hollow-eyed look. A thousand-yard stare. In front of cameras, she always manages to slip her ditzy facade on but she doesn’t keep it on any longer than she has to. 

Riko is picking fights left, right, and center. She’s always brawling on the court. No one interferes because it’s Riko. 

The first flicker of emotion that Jeanie sees is at the discovery of Ania Josten’s true identity. For the first time in nearly a year, Riko looks excited. A brilliant smile splits her face and tears flow from her eyes. 

“Oh, Nattie. How I’ve missed you, my love,” Riko whispers as she drags a hand across the screen of her laptop, paused in the middle of one of Ania’s interviews. Riko turns to Jeanie. She races over and grabs Cleo out of Jeanie’s arms. “How would you like to have two mommies, Cleo? Oh, I’m sure you’ll love your new mommy. Such a pretty face. Such a dirty mouth.” There’s a crazed glint in Riko’s eyes and Jeanie feels her blood run cold. It’s the same glint she used to see whenever Riko ran her blades over Kevin’s skin. It was the same laughter that rang through the halls when Kevin sobbed beneath the sting of her blade, parting his skin, carving into his flesh. 

The banquets occur and Ania comes to Evermore. 

Jeanie wants to grab Ania by the shoulders and shake her. She wants to scream at her to get out. She wants to help her run but she’s too afraid of what will happen to her and, more importantly, Cleo if she does. Instead, she does her best to help Ania keep up. It’s hard especially when Ania is so dead set on pissing Riko off as much as possible. Ania refuses to accept Jeanie’s help either. She shoves Jeanie away and does the exact opposite of what she’s told. She hasn’t changed a bit since she was a child. 

Since the birth of Cleo, Jeanie has had her own room that she shares with the baby. It’s right beside Riko’s room. Jeanie finds herself waking in the middle of the night to the cries of the baby and the screams of Ania in the room next door. Riko is undoubtedly cutting her up just like she did Kevin. IIt’s Cleo or Ania. You can’t save them both, Jeanie thinks to herself as the tears slide down her cheek. She rocks Cleo in her arms, wishing the baby didn’t have to hear the horrors of the room next door. One night, however, the pleas she hears sound familiar. Pressing an ear up against the wall, she hears Ania begging for Riko to stop. She hears Riko demand that Ania love her. Jeanie leans back puzzled. It takes a few moments for the pieces to fall into place. She’s out of her room and kicking down Riko’s door in a matter of seconds. Ania’s handcuffed to the bed, naked. Riko is kneeling above her, her own shirt off. Blood coats everything in sight. 

This is the final straw. Jeanie grabs Riko by her hair and throws her across the room. She undoes the cuffs on Ania’s hands. She carries her to the bathroom and cleans her up. Ania doesn’t seem to be all there. Instead, she sits quietly as Jeanie does her best to clean the blood off her and dress the wounds. 

She packs Ania’s things and grabs Cleo and drives them to the airport. She calls Renee before the three of them hop onto the first available flight back to South Carolina. 

Wymack is already waiting for them at the terminal. His eyes widen at the sight of the child in Jeanie’s arms but he doesn’t question it. He drives the four of them back to the team nurse’s home. Jeanie explains what happened at Evermore and, after some prodding, reveals the truth about Cleo. Abby is trying to contain her tears. She offers to watch Cleo while Jeanie sleeps. Jeanie hesitates but her fatigue wins out. She hands Cleo over and falls asleep the second her head hits the pillow. 

Jeanie hides out with the foxes, waiting for Riko to come and take her back. Not once do they call. Instead, Renee’s adoptive mother has forced Evermore to open an investigation into the Ravens. It’s only a matter of time before the Ravens fall.

Jeanie’s story will pick up from her arrival at Palmetto.