#did you know that lillies are poisonous for cats

[yvainart]

a temporarily goodbye

[shinynx]

So I wana make a post about the signs of kidney failure and chronic kidney disease/renal failure in cats. I'm not a vet or anything of the sort but I am a frustrated cat owner. If I had known the signs sooner maybe my kitty could've lived a longer life. I'm not going to get into the numbers and bloodwork stuff because that doesn't make any sense to me or probably to the people this post is directed at. This post is just meant to help you know what to keep an eye out for, and potentially ask your vet about.

If you're like me and working or out of the house a lot, it's very hard to notice these things in your cat. I really wish I was paying more attention when it mattered most.

The signs of kidney disease comes in 4 stages. If your cat is in stage four, there's not much that can be done. They will have at best a couple of months up to a year with treatment. You will definitely notice something is wrong at this point. Your cat will probably lose a lot of weight very quickly over the course of a week, and stop eating.

If your cat is drinking a lot, and vomits occasionally and/or has awful smelling breath, you should absolutely take them to the vet and ask to get bloodwork to check for kidney issues.

It's also a good idea to regularly weigh your cat at home, even if they are not showing any signs. I'd say to weigh them once a month, and keep a journal with their weights and dates and maybe make notes of how much they drink and pee.

My cat was always eager to drink from every water source, and after she turned 7 she had a problem with throwing up. I took her to the vet and she was prescribed special food for sensitive stomach. I thought that was all it was. I trusted the vet. I had no idea this was a sign of kidney failure. After switching her food she was throwing up a lot less, but still around a few times a month. I figured maybe it was because i occasionally gave her special treats that wasn't her prescribed food and that made her puke. I figured her breath was bad because she threw up sometimes... But now I know it was CKD.

So yeah, I'm hoping by making this post it might help a few kitties. Now you know the signs. Don't make the same mistake I did. And for the love of all cats everywhere PLEASE. Keep your cat IN DOORS. And do not bring lillies into the house. Check every plant online to find out if it's safe for cats. And of course keep your cat away from poisons, chemicals, antifreeze and medications.

If you have the means consider tipping this post or check my pinned for other links. I am still trying to pay off my cats ER bills. I still need $2,000. Even a dollar makes a difference. Thank you for reading and take care of your kitties!

[tlaquetzqui]

As an English major your insistence on precise, literal definition over contextual information and modern usage of words is ridiculous. No one is saying cats are venomous and putting words in people's mouths as some kind of "gotcha" is asinine. Chocolate isn't toxic inherently, but it's "toxic" to dogs. That doesn't make it toxic waste or poison, dogs just can't eat it. The same example works for Lillies and Cats, and the same for Cat saliva and Birds. Take a humility pill, we are trying to help stop the spread of misinformation, it's OK to be wrong and learn from it

Chocolate is in fact a hemotoxin to dogs—and cats. So, no, actually, chocolate is completely 100% toxic, just not to humans. Most toxic mushrooms are not toxic to deer, that’s why which mushrooms deer eat is no guide to safety. They’re still toxic mushrooms. Cat saliva is not toxic ever or to anything, because it’s not fucking venom.

And I actually admitted I was wrong, in the notes on that, because I forgot about the preening, which presumably lets birds get cat-saliva bacteria into their mouths. Though if you let a cat and bird interact (which you probably shouldn’t but they might by accident), you probably just have to give the bird a bath, if the cat licks it, to be safe.

“Don’t let cats and birds interact even with supervision, even if you know they won’t hurt each other, because you’ll have to give the bird a bath afterward (definitely if the cat licks the bird, probably otherwise just to be safe), or it could get very sick or even die” is not the same thing as “if you let cats and birds interact the bird will absolutely die because cat saliva is toxic”. I was saying the latter is incredibly stupid and unhelpful, because it substitutes alarmism for facts. I definitely did imply that it was safer to let them interact than it really is, and I shouldn’t have. But everyone in the notes was attributing me things I did not say, pretending “toxic” means things it fucking doesn’t, and demonstrating various forms of incomprehension about the rabies thing.

“Hey what about if they preen themselves, they’ll get the bacteria that way?” was all anyone had to say and I would’ve said “shit that’s true”. It took like 500 notes for anyone to mention that.

[iloverubberduckiez-blog]

Partners- Reader x Hybrid!Maknae line

A/N: Don't know if ill write more and make a Lil series or keep this as a drabble

WC: 4k

Warnings:Fluff, possible smut if i continue. 

Rated: PG 13 i guess

After another long day at your shitty desk job as a secretary, you were on your way out when you get stopped by the department head.

“Hey Y/N, I'm glad I caught you!”

You inwardly groaned. All you wanted to do was to go home to your beautiful hybrid who you knew would no doubt whine about you coming home late. 1000 bucks says Mark was here to tell you that you would be delaying that peace a little longer.

“Mark please I am tired and I already worked two hours over today”

“Sorry Y/N. I have to stay too. We are expecting some big shot from the main branch and you and I get to personally oversee all things pertaining to him when he gets here. He’s gearing up to take over HQ as the new CEO”

“Oh my- No way.”

“Yup. Jackson Wang”

“Damn. well, he is super hot so I'm doing it for him, not you. When do we need what?” 

“He doesn't get in till next week so we will have time to prepare. Just letting yo know you can pass on the DRASS project to Amaya.”

“What no way that project is mine, it's literally all I've worked on for months-”

“And I know you were super excited to fly back to Kenya to help those people and see it through. I promise you will get full credit but We need this, trust me Jackson says he wants to pick his personal team from within the company. If we do well enough this will be the push we need and could select us as candidates.- You have a hybrid right? well, I have a family of five, and having extra money in the bank whether it's just a bonus for this or a whole new position will help us both and you know it.”

“okay” You relented with a sigh taking the folder from his hands.

“You should rest up this weekend so that we can meet up a little early next week to go over what needs to get done and how we can prepare for everything.”

“so i can go home now?”

Mark chuckles and nods. “ Run along, give your boy a hug from me” Mark kisses your forehead as has been the norm and walks away with a small wave towards his own car.

Leaving the office you groan after seeing the traffic. It was going to be a slow crawl in the car for like an hour before you make it back home.

“Y/N!” You didn't even unlock the door before you were bombarded with the full weight of the handsome hybrid you share a home with.

“Where were you? I was waiting for you for so long. I got us dinner but its all cold now” His voice a little muffled as he spoke into your hair.

“oh what did you eat?”

Taehyungs tummy growled.

 “I didn't. I wanted us to eat together because i got Lasagne, your favourite.” His tail which was wrapped around you as he had hugged you fell to the floor in sadness.

“I’m so sorry Tae.” You looked up to find his ears flattened on his head as his arms drop from your shorter frame. 

Taehyung’s eyes meet yours as he feels how your guilt seems to seep through and he gives you his beautiful signature boxy smile before picking you up and carrying you into your apartment.

“It’s okay Y/N we can reheat it.”

You kiss him on the check and go into your room to change into something comfortable before joining Tae back in the kitchen and sitting on one of the stools.

“Wine M’lady.” Taehyung poured two glasses and reached for your hand leading you to the couch.

“c’mon it will take a while to heat nicely in the oven.”

You nodded and followed him hi sat first then pat his lap. You looked at him questioningly.

“First my favourite meal and then expensive wine? It's not my birthday Tae.By the way this wine is like 1922 grade $400 bucks stuff how in the world did you get some?”

Taehyung chuckled.“I just wanna sit and cuddle with you and have a nice evening together plus you smell like a squirrel.”

You caved and snuggled beside Taehyung instead of on his lap but he just pulled you closer to him nuzzling your hair and drawing little patterns on your arms.

You inwardly facepalmed, of course, Tae’s sensitive nose picks up on all the people from work and apparently most pungently your intern who had sent his Squirrel hybrid to give in some documents to you halfway through a meeting - “I can go take a shower-”

“No don't go please i just missed you a lot today is all.”

“ You sure? Nothing else? Nothing bothering you?”

“Nothing at all.”

It was not nothing.

Taehyung had spent the better part of the morning crying his eyes out after overhearing your conversation to Seokjin. He didn't mean to eavesdrop, in fact, he was going to come and give you a hug good morning but what he heard made him stop dead in his tracks. 

“He’s a beautiful Calico cat Y/N, i think that it could be a good match for you. You did say you had always wanted a cat right? well this is your chance and he will dote on you hand and foot- you work too much honestly when do you take time to read and breathe?”

Tae robotically walked away tail tucked in between his legs and retreated to the bathroom He didn't bother with the rest of the conversation he was just numb. He turned on the shower but made no other moves towards actually showering. All he could think of was that maybe you were trying to replace him, that he wasn't enough for you or maybe that he was just too much and you didn't love him anymore. He heard you knock on the door announcing your departure for work but he couldn't bring himself to respond. After crying for what felt like hours Tae looked at his phone. You had sent a message.

“Tae,

Had to leave early,U might not have heard me in the shower.Take care. Y/N”

Taehyung felt morose. No “I love you” or cute emoji. He sighed and went to your room. Laying on your bed he snuggled up to one of your pillows and managed to fall asleep. It ended up only being a nap as Taehyung woke around an hour later. Eyes still puffy and with a sniffle, he sat up determined and decided to do something special for you.

“Hey Hyung”

“What do you wan- Is Y/N Okay? Did you start a fire again?”

Taehyung deadpanned. “Hyung that was one time!”

“Okay, what's wrong little brother?”

Taehyung whined. he felt the beginnings of tears stirring up again.

“come over. Hoseok has a day off today. Or do you just wanna talk to me?”

“I’ll be right there”

Yoongi sighed rubbing his fingers over his temples. Hoseok was currently now consoling his little brother who after regaling his story managed to upset himself and break down into full-blown tears again.

“I knew something was up I *Hic* didn't think she, we would ever be apart” 

Yoongi sat on Taehyungs opposite side and pulled him into a hug after wiping some of his tears.

“It’s just a big misunderstanding okay she is just working really hard she’s not trying to abandon you.”

“Hyung you don't know that. Easy for you to say because you have Hoseok- Hyung.”

“And it's only because of her that I got adopted by him remember? She wanted us both but she didn't have the means to look after both of us so she called all her friends willing to take a hybrid on and then she said that she was sorry she couldn't do more but at least we would be able to see each other. She’s the reason we can still talk, see each other despite being separated, and hang out.”

Hoseok nods, “She got an extra bed in your room too for Yoongi to come to stay over whenever he wanted and she gave him the spare key remember? I don't even have a spare and I've known her longer-”

“she likes us better” Taehyung and Yoongi snapped to Hoseok at the same time.

Hoseok laughed. “well glad to know where I stand. I wouldn't hold it against you if you moved now, she earns enough to support you now...so if-”

Yoongi smiled “You would be hopeless without me and you know it.”

Hoseok scratched behind Yoongi’s ears and with a smile, he began “Well if you want my advice on this-”

“We don’t,” The hybrid brothers said again in unison.

Hoseok rolled his eyes and mumbled about getting something to eat and calling Seokjin to figure out what was going on.

Yoongi’s heart was aching for Taehyung. He wanted nothing more than to see his beautiful smile again.

“Y/N likes Lillies why don't you buy her some and like welcome her with those and some chocolates or something when she gets home?”

Taehyung sighed. “I thought about that but it feels too simple and like something anyone could come up with.” His eyes glazed over to the Tv where a couple was horseriding on a ranch. Immediately Taehyung lit up.

” That's it!”

“Tae we can't buy a horse ranch, even with all three of us chipping in”

“Not the ranch Hyung. Y/N likes this special wine that you can only get at a few places. If I get her a bottle and cook her a fancy dinner she can remember why she only needs me.”

Hoseok came back to the living room.

“oh, I have a bottle from the last time we went to the ranch as a group the chateau right? I was gonna wait for her birthday and surprise her but you can have it Tae,”

Taehyung glomped Hoseok in gratitude.

“cant breathe Tae”

“sorry.”

Yoongi stood up scrolling on his phone. “what did Soekjin say?”

Taehyungs smile dropped and his face morphed into nervous worry. Yoongi placed a comforting hand on his brother's shoulder expecting bad news from the way he reacted.

“He is out of town for the weekend. Some big trip so I could only leave a voicemail. It’s probably nothing. Anyway, you should go on and get dinner ready for Y/N before she gets home right?”

Taehyung brightened a little and skilled nodding. Before he left Yoongi said he should probably order food so he doesn't poison you or set the place on fire. He left feeling optimistic and hopeful that he could mend things with you. He wanted to help take better care of you he promised himself.

You woke up to the smell of burnt pancakes and Hot chocolate. Following the scent, you found Tae in the kitchen attentively staring at the pancake until a small ding went off on his phone. Shutting off the timer he placed a layer of batter where the last pancake just lay and set the timer again. You watched him fondly before he plated this one and poured honey over it. Putting the plate on a tray with the precut fruits and hot chocolate his ears went up as he sniffed the air. Turning around he saw you in the doorframe.

“Y/N...i-i made breakfast” He hastily grabbed your hand and led you back to you room tucking you in, before rushing out and bringing the tray with him.

Your heart swelled at this blessing of a man in front of you and he watched with rapt attention as you cut off a piece of the pancake before placing it in your mouth.

“How is it?” His ears sagged over his head expecting rejection.

“I can make you an omelet instead if you-”

“Taehyung it's the best pancake I’ve ever eaten.”

He buried his face in your pillow at your praise, tail wagging happily. You offered him a strawberry and a piece of the pancake and he hummed happily.

After sharing breakfast together you spent the day spring cleaning together before spending the rest of the day on a movie marathon. On Sunday You were both invited to game night at Hoseoks and You and Tae were a dynamite team as usual with Yoongi coming in to troll Hoseok much to his displeasure.

“I look forward to working with you further Mr wang.” you held out your hand. Jackson laughed and gave you a hug instead. 

“No way just call me Jackson. I’ve been friends with Mark forever so any friend of his is a friend of mine, also you come at a right recommendation, which is surprising cos he can be a bit of a downer.”

“I’m right here you know!” 

“I’m so grateful for you for doing this at such last minute. i know it was a lot to organise in the given time frame Y/N.” 

“Not at all, Mr wa- Jackson.”

You all stayed in his office with some comfortable banter before going home.

Taehyung called over to you and began to advance happily towards you before he stopped and sniffed you strangely. You wanted to ask him what the problem was but your phone chimed. it was Soekjin- he was calling you. You declined the call because you remembered you needed to tell Tae what was going on so that you could get his opinion on things.

“It might be urgent, if he keeps calling you like that. Go see what your human friend wants.”

“Do you not like Jin? Since when? Tae what’s-”

“You’ve been talking a lot to whoever lately and you smell like a new scent and a hybrid and I feel tired so I’ll probably just go hang out at Hyung’s.”

“No wait Taehyung I’m not trying to have secrets or hide anything from you but there is something important I need to tell you.”

Taehyung huffed and went to go sit down as you took his hands in yours. He looked like how you found him 2 years ago a wounded puppy with eyes full of love and brimming with sadness.

“Things are a bit crazy at the shelter and Jin needs help in housing some of the Hybrids temporarily. Some can go to other shelters but some need a more... loving environment, calmer without the more violent hybrids sharing with the weaker type ones. I offered to take two of them in while he figures everything out. I know its a lot and if you don't want to, we will just stay just us but if Jin is overcrowded he’s at risk of getting shut down and then they could all end up on the streets I-”

“It's okay.”

You blinked. “Huh?”

“It's just temporary, right? I can understand that we shouldn't let anyone be on the streets if we can help.”

“really? you’re fine with this?”

“It’s...I will be able to deal with it. But I want strawberry cake and I’m not sharing”

“Of course Tae. Guess I should call Jin and tell him the great news!” You chirped and went to grab your phone. You didn't notice the sheer rejection that he tried to hold in.

Jungkook and Jimin stood behind Jin. The latter holding Jin’s shirt as he explained some of the pills he had brought along for their nutrition and bringing along some bags with groceries. You reached to take it and Jungkook took them all in your stead silently trying to minimize eye contact with you.

“Thank you Jungkookie.”

Embarrased, Jungkook stuttered out. “I-Its the least I can do after you are being so kind.” You practically melted and pet the Muscle bunny softly at the base of his ears and he stomped his foot a little and grinned showing his toothy smile.

Jimin, not to be outdone, said he could help you pack everything away and let go of Jin who was trying to remain them of something that they were tuning out in their silent contest to impress you. You tried to place a jar on a shelf too high and fell back into JK who caught you and placed it up for you instead. Jimin began whining that he could have done it for you but he was busy with the things in the fridge.

Taehyungs loud sneeze broke up the rowdy lot of you.

Jungkook gripped your waist in fear and stayed behind you as you faced Taehyung. Jimin in shock had hit his head on the shelf of the fridge and tried to catch some of the items that threatened to spill out.

Tehyung seeing Jungkook’s hand on your waist had yanked you out of his grasp and began scenting you and sending a snarl their way.

You sighed. This was how Taehyungs been acting ever since you started the project with Jackson. Pretty much anything could set him off but you felt bad because you should have been more understanding of how this may look in his eyes.

“ Jin, Rabbit, feline”

“Tae, Longtime! Sorry if we woke you. this is Jungkook he's a black Holland Lop and Jimin is a calico cat.”

“I’m Y/N’s Siberian husky.” Tae said to the other two before looking back to Jin.

“ I was awake- Hyung i was finishing the laundry for the new...guests.”

You spun around in his arms to face him. Petting his ears as he cooed into your touch “Aww Tae I told you I’d manage it”

Jin’s ringtone killed the silence and he dashed out telling you to call if any problems arose.

Thereafter you got the boys settled into Taehyung’s room. With a sigh you went and faceplanted into your sheets only to have Taehyung come and crawl beside you. After half an hour when you tried to get up Taehyung just grumbled and  held you tighter.”

“Tae i have to go to”

“work I know” He said with a sigh reluctantly letting you go. 

“Today’s a chilled day we will be done early. Besides, you guys can use this time to bond and make friends.” At his whine, you kissed the top of his head. “ please? For me, try?” 

Six weeks later all of you have somewhat of a comfortable rythym in the household. On a day off you decided it would be fun to go to the beach. Jimin offered to pack a picnic for everyone and Jungkook and Taehyung were moody on the drive over because they didn't think of it first. You had also told him since he was so helpful he could sit in the passenger seat and Jimin spent the whole ride grinning like the cat who got the cream.

Once there you were happy to let the boys wander off to their heart's content after setting up your belongings under a beach umbrella.

Jungkook had other plans. He worked very hard on his physique and although shy he still remembers the first time he came back shirtless from a run and found you on the couch. You tried to hide it but He knows you checked him out and you were definitely attracted to him the way your eyes hungrily racked over his body. Since that day he would be on the lookout for any golden opportunities to be close to you. Honestly, Taehyung had it made. You were kind, smart, hardworking, and breathtakingly beautiful. So often he dreamt of you as his and he knew the others thought the same. Officially though he was still a foster, Jimin had reminded him that morning and their place here wasn't secured so Jimin said he was gonna up the Ante. At first, Jungkook ignored him and went to shower but when he emerged to the sound of you praising Jimin for coming up with such a cute and thoughtful idea, He knew he needed a plan of his own. 

Taehyung excused himself for the bathroom and Jimin was looking around for the cooler box. He decided to go and check in the car leaving Jungkook alone with you. This was his moment. He stripped himself of his shirt and innocently asked if you would come to the water with him. He rationalized his need for an escort being that he was not used to such big crowds of people and thus managed to convince you out of your sundress to reveal your bikini and guide him by the hand towards the water.

Jungkook was Jungshook at the two-piece and how you looked in it enjoying the view until some guy came out trying to talk to you. That snapped him out of his daze and he flung you over his shoulder and bolted into the water trying to shield your body for his admiration alone. You were having a ball of a time and Jungkook got to stay near you and hold you claiming to save you from sharks if you found any.

Jimin had stomped away to the car and after retrieving the cooler box which he was pretty sure Jungkook was supposed to carry happily bounded to the store to get ice for the drinks on the way back. He also spotted a local artist doing caricatures and thought to remember to bring you over later for a couple picture together. He knew you weren't a couple but Jimin was smitten for you. He was slightly confused as to why Tae didn't have a romantic relationship with you, or at least you weren't his mate so he still had a shot. The only thing in his way now was the little maknae and his cute bunny-like stupid smile and ‘helpful groping’. Jungkook certainly wasn't shy in trying to subtle scent you when you were distracted anymore, not like how it was when they first arrived. No, they had gone from not trying to interfere with your and Tae’s relationship to wanting their own with you, a romantic one. The mystery now was why arent you and Taehyung together? Was it because he was a hybrid or was he just not the right guy? did you reject Taehyung before? Did you get rejected by Taehyung and now he regrets it and wants you back? Jimin didn’t care he wanted you and that was final. Even if you never returned his feelings even just being by your side could be enough for him, enough that he could get over sharing your affection with Taehyung after all he was the first even if he hates to admit it.

Taehyung almost dropped the Icecream cones in his hands.

 Its been so long since you two had come to the beach, in fact, the last time was when Yoongi had hinted at you two being an adorable couple. Taehyung had gotten you ice cream to share and you had some dribble down from your mouth to your chin. Taehyung did it before his brain was able to process the action, he licked a stripe from your chin to your lips lingering for a second before placing a chaste kiss there. You were embarrassed, to say the least, and Tae hid his own embarrassment by getting up to toss a ball back to a bunch of kids playing volleyball. When he came back he noticed you with some of Yoongi’s cocktail and the two of you managed to finish the jug just between the two of you. Later at home Yoongi and Hoseok took to the twin beds in Tae’s room and you pulled him into your room. Tae had discovered you were really handsy and although he wanted you so badly you were both too drunk to do more than sleep after a sloppy makeout session. The next morning you had woken up first and Left some water and ibuprofen with an apple by his side. His morning wood making him panic in short horror prompting a quick cold shower. While he discarded his clothes he saw your underwear that you had slept in still coated in fragments of your arousal, on top of the laundry hamper and grabbed it as he stepped in the shower. It was the first time he had taken your underwear.

Yoongi had told him then to let you bring it up- the idea of you guys figuring out what you want moving forward as it was clear to him and Hoseok that you two were lusting after one another but was it anything more? Taehyung was in the midst of figuring out his feelings for you and what everything meant and how things were going to be different but you came in the apartment with breakfast goodies in tow. You managed to still look effortlessly beautiful in the morning and Tae was so happy that you got him his favourite things for breakfast from your waffle house.

“Tae, I’m so sorry about yesterday i was super drunk”

“I was drunk too Y/N its fi-”

“No it’s I'm sorry can we just forget this all happened i don't want to loose you Tae I love you. Can we move on please?”

Taehyungs heart shattered across the floor but he nodded and to put insult to injury you kissed his cheek before scolding Hobi for drinking The hot chocolate you meant for Taehyung and yourself.

“I’m sorry lil bro. If you wanna stay with us we can share my room, i have a double bed and Hobi can-”

“Its okay Yoongi- Hyung. I can keep it together for now, ill give it some time and if that doesn't work I’ll confess and we work from there. For now, her loving me is enough, even if its just friends. This love and adoration from her is enough.”

It’s Not Fucking Enough. Not anymore. That was then when he had you all to himself, No new boss keeping you at work always hugging you, No Bunny, no Cat. No it was war now, and Tae has just about reached his limit.

[bates--boy]

         Peter would never be able to figure out how he had successfully persuaded Naseem into visiting him when he knew that the promise of edibles and good whiskey could never be enough to drag a person away from family and after work. Maybe Naseem heard something in Peter’s voice, which made shame burn in Peter’s face. But in any case, after hearing Naseem say “I’ll be right there,” Peter had set out the poisons of choice on the table, along with some pizza he had purchased across the street when the feeling of passing out subsided and the old Italian couple had stopped arguing long enough to take his order. 

          Half an hour into the visit, and the two men were lazing on the floor, Peter’s empty notepad half-forgotten, the cat on the table trying to sneak off with one of the last slices of pizza. One of them had the idea to blast some music; neither remembers who did so, but now they had a song about the conflicts of man versus self and man versus authority playing while they laughed at the feeling of the world burning around them.

          “...You know what?” Naseem said, reaching above him to run his fingers through Peter’s hair. “I’m gonna introduce you to my dealer, ‘cause something ain’t right about these edibles.”

          “And yet, my little sister takes them all the time,” Peter huffed. He should feel awful about relishing in Penny’s possibly bad trips, but these were four hundred krona a pop, and that would teach the little rat to go through his things. “...Pffffft!”

          “Maaaaan, you’re a shitty brother,” Naseem chuckled. He stopped combing Peter’s hair and patted around the floor until he found the notepad. “Hey, ya, uh, needed some help with this, right?”

          “Yeah, I think.” Peter rolled onto his stomach and locked his fingers underneath his chin. “I just.... uuuh, I just can’t... can’t get the words out. I can’t think of anything to write about. Not even when I think WWND.”

          Naseem raised an eyebrow. “WWND?”

         Peter, completely, stony serious, replied, “What Would Naseem Do.”

         Naseem stared at the other man, stunned into sobriety, his mouth opened in a slit so that only the edge of his teeth showed through shapely lips. Then, he jerked, a laughing snort sounding from him.

          “Well, what Naseem wouldn’t do,” he said, “is make someone he only knew for a few months into an idol like a fucking weirdo.”

         Peter blinked and, for the second time that day, burned with embarrassment. “I’m not-- I didn’t--”

        “What Naseem would do,” Naseem continued, somewhat back to mellow now that Peter looked like a puppy whose nose took a beating from the newspaper, “is take inspiration from some of the greatest. Like... like this dude here. What’s his name? The guy playing now?”

        “...I don’t know.”

         “Well, this guy’s good. Lemme know his name when you look through your history, yeah? And listen to him, man, just listen to him. He’s clever, he knows the struggle, he’s one hundred percent. You know what that came from?”

          Peter was afraid of the answer, because the answer was what almost drove him into a mini mental breakdown that led to this visit. But he shook his head, anyway. “What?”

          “Telling his story.” Naseem patted around for the pen. “Do you have anything you’d like to share with the class?”

          “...Maybe.” Peter shrugged. 

          “No ‘maybes’, Pete,” Naseem said. He found the pen and began writing in the pad. “Rappers can’t write a song about maybes.”

         “I don’t see why not! Rappers get famous on big booty bitches--” Naseem started to howl. “Stop laughing! I’m serious! And they get famous on bragging about their cars!”

         Naseem’s laughter died into a sniffle. “But who’s gonna remember them, though? Who’s gonna remember the dime-a-dozens with women shaking their asses on either side of them, talking nonsense about fucking hoes left and right? Who’s gonna hold them to high regard like Tupac or the N.W.A.? How famous would they still be after the gimmick gets old and they lack substance?”

          Now it was Peter’s turn to stare, though with a more sardonic grin. “Oh, so we’re trying to get famous now?”

          “We’re trying to stop being afraid of our inner turmoil,” Naseem corrected him. But he shrugged a moment later. “But some fame would be nice too.”

          “Yeah, like we would ever be...” Peter looked away, towards the place where Jack had settled with his stolen prize and was halfway through eating it. He looked beyond it, to where his imagination wandered, but still tethered to his rug with his friend and the smell of pizza sauce and authentic mozzarella. “Famous rappers.”

         “I mean we could be.” Naseem tilted his head back to look into Peter’s face. A grin started to tug at his lips as he watched the eager light spark in Peter’s eyes. He closed the notepad, stuck the pen inside, and thump Peter’s head with it. “We got the rapper part down, we would just need to hustle to get our names out there, right?”

         Peter nodded. “That is, if we can get any lyrics going.”

         ‘That’s why I’m here,” Naseem said. He yawned. “Oof, but after the edibles wear off. These aren’t the kind that gets your creativity going.”

          “Yeah...” Peter let the title linger in his head, let the tingle of it settle on his tongue. Famous rappers. Him and Naseem. And Mike and Tarsha and Adel. Souls bared in front of hundreds, maybe thousands, through the microphone. Could they... Are they really...?

          Peter blinked. “Anti-Lilly.”

          Naseem tilted his head back again. “Hm?”

          Peter nodded to the Bluetooth speaker. “His name’s Anti-Lilly.”

          Naseem waved a finger. “See? It’s his substance.”

[keyofjetwolf]

Bonus Question Answers! (non-anime animated final)

I asked a silly question! You gave me incredible answers. SO VERY MANY INCREDIBLE ANSWERS. If yours is listed below, you’ve earned an entry in a random draw to win a GIFTENING liveblog OF YOUR CHOICE

This question may have inadvertently created my favourite solid block of answers. I wouldn’t have called that, and was DELIGHTED. Narrowing these down was so incredibly hard. You are all beautiful and I love you.

—

Q: What was one of my favourite songs in JEM? Points will be awarded for accuracy, OR making me laugh, so if you don't know any JEM songs (or Misfits or Singers, of course!), DON'T LET THAT STOP YOU.

*  The Limp Lizards launched a shockingly popular remake of their 1 (one) famous song, and it is literally just an ASMR soundtrack of glass breaking.  That's it.  And yet, their renewed royalties have set them up comfortably in the 2000s.  -- @amberlilly  [I hoped in my heart of hearts that someone would say The Limp Lizards, and then you did, BUT DID IT MORE, Lilly you are the hero we need in these dark times.]

~~

*  If one of your favorite songs wasn't Takin' It All, then I just don't know you.  @ayu-ohseki​  [I DO LOVE THAT ONE YOU GOT ME]

~~

*  Bad Influence? I don't know, the Romeo and Juliet tale but instead of people getting stabbed/poisoned, you have of a bunch of people hijacking YOUR stage performance to sing about how much you and your friend suck. It seems really appealing.  -- Don Jose  [I’m not sure I ever quite phrased it that way to my myself, BUT YOU RIGHT.]

~~

*  Designing Women. It's an incredible bop that features the Misfits trashing a store and then buying everything. All just to spite one of the protags. -- Eddy  [I DO IN FACT REALLY LOVE THIS ONE.  Oh, Misfits, you’re so ridiculous and poorly socialized.]

~~

*  "Come on in the Water's Fine" because when I looked at song titles, I imagined Michiru saying this to Ami to bully her into the pool to race her again bc Ami seems like the kind of girl to her who would need such kind things said to entice her. But additionally, when it started up for some reason it made me think about "Holiday" by Madonna which boy, talk about nostalgia for me. Also also when the dude in the video first shows up, I thought the striped part of his shirt was the only part of his shirt and the peach flesh colored part of his shirt was just his torso and therefore that he was wearing the most hideous crop top that ended just above his nipples because that would be QUITE the fashion statement. Also mermaids rock okay   -- Furi  [There isn’t a word out of place in this entire answer, but also it made me really want you to have to do a blind reaction series on JEM song videos.]

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*  "Be Gay, Do Crimes, Rio Sucks" obviously a Misfits song, preaching only truth  -- @incorrecttact  [Bless you, friend]

~~

*  I Snort Glitter Everyday  -- Jillwalker  [ACTUAL LOL, this was clearly from one of Kimber’s 1938577 rebellious phases this week.]

~~

*  That one, in episode 47 I think? about rats being good for your skin? Wouldn't expect it to be so catchy just looking at the lyrics (I mean really, "Put 'em in soap, that's the peak, all squeaky clean, makes the boys' knees weak"? Who greenlit that?) but I haven't been able to go two months without it lodging itself in my brain for *years*  -- @kariachi  [just *chef’s kiss*]

~~

*  Glitter and Gold, because it's such a gigantic "WE HAVE NEW DOLLS TO MARKET!" advertising tie-in that I can't help but enjoy how shameless it is. GLITTER AND GOLD! GLITTER AND GOLD! HERE COMES GLITTER AND GOLD, IN STORES NOW! (Also truly outrageous I guess, but GLITTER AND GOLD!)  -- Peter Svensson  [IT’S TRUE AND YOU SHOULD SAY IT. It’s so fucking brazen, I love it.]

~~

*  Jemmicle Songs for Jemmicle Cats!  @sirblackaxe  [Bravo. BRA. VO.]

~~

*  "alone Again" for the sole reason I want you to go "wtf song was this again?" and have to look up this nightmare fever dream of an episode  -- shoujo screamer  [HA JOKE’S ON YOU FRIEND I DON’T HAVE TO LOOK IT UP I ALREADY KNOW THE SONG AND THE EXACT EPISODE IT CAME FROM SO TAKE THAT I AM VERY COOL]

—

AND THAT’S ALL THE BONUS QUESTION ANSWERS. Thank you all so much for playing along with me. I’ll be pulling for the winner (winners? THAT’S UP TO YOU) this Thursday the 14th! The winner(s) will have 24 hours to let me know what I’ll be doing, and we’ll have that liveblog(s) on the last day of THE GIFTENING, Tuesday the 19th.

THANK YOU AGAIN YOU’RE ALL TOO GOOD IT’S DISGUSTING

[dravenxivuk]

Can you please tell those of us who don't know much about Lily a little about her? I've always been curious from seeing her in your games!

Enthuse at length about my Witcher OC? sure xD 

Race: Demon Gender: Female Immediate family: None Sexuality: Bisexual disaster Occupation:  Witcheress, explorer 

Lily is thought to be around 400 years old, but she doesn’t actually know, and stopped paying attention at least three centuries ago. She shows no physical signs of aging.

Demeanour: Laid back and cheerful most of the time, but mess with those she cares about and she will hurt you. Maybe not now, but one day she will come back to you because she has all the time in the world. Less concerned about slights to herself, probably won’t even notice them. Will tease those she likes, but will tone it down if they’re getting uncomfortable. Does have a soft side but you have to earn her trust before she’ll show it.

Likes: Shiny things (especially if they’re sharp and pointy), learning, travelling & exploring, dancing, reading, red wine, having her head scratched at the base of her horns (very few people know this).

Languages: Can read and speak most languages of the Northern Realms fluently, has reasonable knowledge of other languages from her travels.

Preternaturally Strong: Lily’s strength is on par with a higher vampire.

Regeneration: Lily regenerates incredibly quickly – as fast, if not faster than, a higher vampire.

Always sober: Can’t get drunk due to how fast she heals, but keeps trying anyway!

Soul-free: Doesn’t have a soul.

Long Witcher 3 verse background under the cut (basically her about from the sideblog where I RP her @simplly-lilly ).  She has other verses - modern, Nioh 2 based, a couple of ‘old’ verses set 50-ish years after Witcher 3, but this is her main one.

Lily ended up in the Northern Realms because she investigated an interesting shiny disc she found in her own world. She appeared in an intricately drawn circle in a mage’s lab which was very pretty but she was far more interested in the shiny baubles he had hanging around so wandered over for a closer look. Master Bertrand, the mage, got quite upset that she just ambled out of his summoning circle, he wasn’t aiming for a horned woman but as she’d shown up she should at least have the decency to follow the rules.

Bertrand wrote a work, Master Bertrand’s Treatise on Summoning & Containing Demonic Entities, based on his summoning of Lily that made him infamous among goetia magic users, mostly because none were ever able to replicate his work and summon their own demon. Lily maintains this is because he only summoned her by accident because she went to look at the shiny disc.

Nonetheless it is possible to summon her, something that has so far been managed accidentally by one scholar in Oxenfurt and a group of witchers messing about in Kaer Morhen. Being summoned is disconcerting and makes her hungry, as such her standard advice for anyone trying to summon a demon is to dispense with the theatrics and make sure you have snacks on hand for when they get there because they’ll be grumpy. If she trusts someone enough she’ll give them her sigil so they can call her whenever they want.

Master Bertrand periodically subjected Lily to horrific experiments and she is heavily scarred as a result, but most people never notice as she heals so quickly her scars are barely visible. Those who do look closely might notice that a lot of them look medical, almost vivisection-like as the mage wanted to find out if demons were the same on the inside as people, among other things. Lily doesn’t like to talk about it and as those who do notice the scarring tend to put it down to fighting she generally doesn’t have to.

Lily ended up staying with Master Bertrand for about a century. He taught her various languages of the Northern Realms and how to read, which he regretted doing as soon as she found the library and started disappearing for weeks at a time. Lily stayed with the Bertrand as long as she did despite the hideous experiments he conducted on her, because it never occurred to her that she could leave.

There were protective wards around the house, and strong magical barriers controlling where she could go. The Mage experimented with magical implants for a while as a way to track and control her, but her accelerated healing powers just pushed them out almost immediately. When he needed to restrain her for an experiment he would have to use massive amounts of magic that would leave him drained for days. As she’s concerned dimeritium is just another shiny metal, it is no more or less effective at restraining her than anything else, and she’s very fond of silver.

Master Bertrand had an ongoing contract with a Cat witcher who brought him interesting bits of monsters for potions and occasional live specimens if requested. For one set of experiments Bertrand hired Cat to spar with Lily, he wanted to see how her speed and strength compared to a witcher having already established she was stronger than humans. Cat won easily and told Bertrand that if he wanted accurate measurements she would need to be trained otherwise the results would always be skewed, so Bertrand hired Cat to do just that.

Cat not only taught Lily hand-to-hand combat and sword play but how to use a whole range of blades, and how to hide them to pass the most thorough searches. Her witcher training would be obvious to any witcher who sparred or fought her, probably down to which school. She can fight very well, although she’s not quite as fast as most witchers, but she can also get reckless because it’s only pain and she heals. She’s very protective of her friends and while most of them are fast healing witchers, she regenerates faster so will put herself between them and peril if the need arises.

Cat also taught Lily how to make witcher potions and an exciting array of poisons, much to Master Bertrand’s annoyance as Cat (and later Lily) refused to share this knowledge with him. Cat tried to teach her to use witcher signs but abandoned it after she blew up half the lab trying to igni a candle.

Cat and Lily were a couple for almost 70 years. Cat made her promise that when he died she’d return his medallion to his school, however he didn’t set a time limit on doing it so she now wears it as her own. Cat also made her promise to look after his blades and put them to good use, most of the blades secreted around her person used to belong to Cat and they have all seen a lot of use. She’ll talk about Cat if pushed, but won’t bring him up voluntarily.

Cat died after being betrayed by Bertrand. Until Cat died she respected the magical barriers around the house, but the pain and fury over his death tapped into her demon nature more fully than any experiment and the barriers came apart as she forced through them. The ensuing fight with Bertrand was when they both discovered how distorted and warped magic can really get around her when she goes full demon. It was the last thing he ever discovered as shortly afterwards she ripped his heart out.

She also destroyed a lot of the darker corners of his lab, but she left the library and house intact. Much as she hates the place it’s always handy to have somewhere to go back to if absolutely necessary. She has an interesting collection of magical knickknacks courtesy of inheriting Bertrand’s collection, most she keeps because they’re shiny but a couple are actually useful.

She likes witchers and vastly prefers their company to humans, mostly because they’ve travelled a lot and seen a lot of shit so always have an interesting story to tell. They also know what it’s like to mostly pass as human until people get up close. When very bored she has been known to put up a contract on herself. Occasionally it works.

She will break her horns off herself if she’s travel through somewhere sensitive (looking at you Novigrad) but she doesn’t like doing it because they itch when they grow back, particularly when they’re going through the velvet shedding phase. Her horns usually grow a bit quicker than her hair, but if she takes a massive amount of damage they’ll grow back more quickly as her body kicks into healing mode.

Lily is a firm believer in hugs, and gets particular joy from hugging tetchy witchers as she’s sure they’d enjoy hugs too with a little practice. She just ignores it when they’re a bit awkward as it’s often been a while since whichever witcher she’s tackle hugged this time last had any friendly contact.

[docholligay]

Ace High

@amberlilly asked for “Michiru being given a choice in some situation to change something in the past. What does she do?” 2100 words and I hope you like it, Lilly!

You cannot draw the card. That is a known rule. 

The cards are drawn for you, dealt in a pile, and the hands that are played come only down to luck, as some would say. Some would say it comes to skill, to a certain inclination of what the dealer might play, a knowledge of the rest of the table, but it had been the observation of one Michiru Kaioh that those players were often the ones who had royal flush in their blood before they ever sat. 

No, there is no way that the rules allow for the drawing of the cards, no way for your fortune to be arranged and rearranged and though you may always throw something away, that in no way guarantees that anything better will fly to your hand from the cruel dealings of eternity’s gam master. 

But there is, of course, cheating. 

Michiru Kaioh considered herself a keen observer of humanity, in the way she had studied all arts, and so she was no often at a loss, or taken by surprise, when someone offered her something. It was easy to spell out a lie, when you were Michiru. Generally. 

Her eyes flashed back to Mina and she hated herself for the crime immediately. Why should she presume that if Michiru did not know whether the demon told true, Mina would know any better? 

In any case, it did not matter. Mina’s face held neither confirmation or denial of the statement itself, but a simple, straightforward: No. 

Of course it would be that way, and Michiru was foolish for thinking otherwise. None of the rest seemed even vaguely interested in the offer. 

“This card,” the voice was deep and garbled at the edges, cruel and cold as the first snowmelted rivers of spring, “will give you one change. Anything. A different family. A won war. A saved life.” 

“It’s a trick,” Mako grumbled, “You can’t do that.” 

“Oh but I can,” there was laughter now, like a roaring rapid, full of static, “and the only cat’s-paw is life itself. No more harm could come to you than would in this life.” 

It was telling the truth. It had no need to lie, for it was just as likely it could kill us all with its own power. It cared not for the fate of the earth, it cared not for power, it only wanted that crystal, for some reason it had certainly told them but Michiru had pointedly ignored. 

They all wanted it eventually, and it was in everyone’s best interests for Michiru not to be brought to decide if it was any better or worse than the Moon Kingdom having it. 

And it wasn’t even asking them to bring the crystal to it. Only to lend it their power, to let it move with the stormy sea of Neptune and let them take over for just a moment, just long enough to take the crystal for themselves. 

One change. What would she even do, with that sort of power? How could she see into the past, and know what would move into the future? It was impossibility to ask of her, and maybe this was why it was easier for Mako to pretend that the power was a lie. Maybe she didn’t know what her life would look like, if not like this, if her parents hadn’t died, if the world had left her with literally anyone but Usagi. 

It was never easier for Michiru to lie, at least to herself. The monster spoke true, and the power was real, and Usagi might die in the bargain, but then again, Michiru wasn’t sure that would involve the earth as much as everyone claimed. This was, and had always been, for the good of the moon, and so far as Michiru was concerned it could stay a dead rock. 

Would she dream for herself? Who would Michiru Kaioh even be, if she had not be raised with a steel to her back from her toddling days, if she had not been raised with a sense of decorum and noblesse oblige? What if she had tumbled down a hillside in a park, thrown her arms around the neck of her dog, and laughed loud? What if she had never been a prodigy, but merely a child? Who might Michiru Kaioh have been? 

As with the most of us, Michiru found this hypothetical person she might have been to be a nearly impossible thing to consider, and so, chose not to. It was not her general inclination to think too deeply about that anyhow. Michiru had survived her childhood, and if the person she wa now was not exactly ideal, she was functional, and she had divorced herself so entirely from the idea of being a loved object to many that the idea seemed strange. 

She looked to her left, Haruka narrowing her eyes and ready to pounce. She had never considered the offer. Michiru could see it in her eyes. She might, if she thought it out, but it would be some self-sacrificing thing where she would wish that it had never come to this planet, which would backfire on her entirely in a way she would not be able to see. Or her offer would simply be rejected, this was not some sort of fairy story where one can undo Rumpelstiltskin with a clever word. 

Michiru might have been a broken thing,  but she was rather one of those repaired art pieces, covered by so much restoration and knowledge that only the most closely trained eye could see the patches, could see the spots where the brushstrokes changed. But Haruka was rather a junkyard dog, who had been set to fight, and her wounds set across her in easily-seen patterns, every chunk taken out of her marked with the shining pink of a tight scar. 

Who might she have been, if she had been more loved? If her grandmother hadn’t died, or better, if she were born to a family who all deeply longed for her, where there was always food on the table and warm, clean clothes? What if her boisterousness and eagerness to please had been harnessed instead of being hurt? What if she had been driven into sports young, and told she was talented and good, and hugged, and wanted? 

Michiru saw what she thought that girl might have been like, sometimes, in the dark. When Haruka reached for her hand, and held it softly, when she whispered words of love, when she snuggled gently against Michiru, and relaxed under her gentle caress. Haruka might have been so many lovely and soft things, so easily, if she could have been safe. She might be so happy, if her parents had taught her to love herself, to see the good in herself, to accept tenderness instead of mocking her for it. 

She nearly extended her hand, then, knowing what she would ask it to do, what she would ask it to give. 

But what of Michiru? It was a selfish thought, though that in itself did not surprise Michiru, for she was often selfish.  What would become of Michiru, if Haruka had always known she had worth and value? If she felt no compulsion to throw herself in front of things, die for something? What if she felt she was already good, and did not need to hurt herself in the service of something greater? What if Michiru’s touch hadn’t been the first gentle one she had in years? 

Michiru knew what would happen. Michiru was a strange thing, and no normal person would be saddled with her if they could find another. That Haruka, whose life was kind, would have a sweet girlfriend already, and nuzzle with her in some cafe, drinking with two straws in the same glass, and Haruka would laugh, and they would kiss. It would not be with a creature like her, that Haruka would know an easy life, full of warmth. 

There was a simple truth, the ugliest Michiru’s heart could hold:

If Haruka’s life hadn’t been cruel, if she hadn’t been a senshi, they never would have met. They never would have fallen in love. 

She could stand, and pretend to be brave and resolute. Perhaps they would win the day anyhow, it had happened enough times. She could pretend that she could think of nothing worth giving over her power for, no thing she loved more than to serve the moon and her princess. She could be a good soldier, and no one would ever have to see the poisoned rose in her heart. 

Or she could be kind, instead of selfish. She could turn traitor, for Haruka’s sake, and give her up into the world that would treat her with kindness, that would love her and make it easy for her to love. She could lose everything but know that Haruka was safe. That for one day in her life, she had made a choice for Haruka instead of herself. 

She had loved Haruka for her own sake. She had died in the cathedral so she did not have to bear Haruka’s loss. She was a selfish thing, and she knew it, but here was one chance to be something better. To serve the princess she loved the most. 

“I will take that bargain.” She did not look at Haruka when she said it. However much Haruka hated her now, however much Haruka was trying to make it in a clever plan, Michiru did not want to see. Haruka would forget her in a moment’s time anyhow. 

The other senshi yelled behind her, and their voices became one clamor, and Michiru did not care to pick out each instrument in the symphony, content in knowing that she understood the general theme. She was a traitor, for she was in love, and her beloved deserved this. 

Michiru loved her. She would be kind, for her. 

A mirror slipped out of her hand, and into it slipped a card, the queen of hearts, and she stared and stared and stared. 

And stood on a street in the middle of Tokyo. Her district, filled with fashionable shops and sweet cafes, people hurrying around her, some staring into the windows and chattering over the finest goods. Michiru looked in the window of the Cartier. She was dressed in the same sort of neat navy dress she often wore, handmade Italian leather on her feet. A transformation ring on her finger. Everything was very much as she left it, and Michiru wondered for a moment if it hadn’t been all some sort of hallucination brought on by poor eating habits. 

Then she saw her. She was taller even than she had been in the timeline where they loved, doubtless due to better nutrition as a child. Her hair was the same soft mob of blonde, cut neatly with her hair falling just to the edge of her eyebrows. She smiled brightly, and waved to a little girl in pink, bending down to properly greet her. Haruka seemed to radiate comfort and joy, tall and butch and happy enough with alll of it. Michiru wanted to go to her, to kiss her and tell her they had done it and Haruka would not ever have to hold that hurt and sadness in her eyes. 

Then she was her. A cute little thing with her hair piled in a neat bun at the top of her head, sunglasses perched next to it. She laughed, and her face crinkled up, teeth showing garishly, as she hooked her arm around Haruka’s. Her clothing was bright and her hair was dark and she was utterly artless and terribly charming. They must have come down here for lunch, and Michru’s heart broke just a little bit, something she could not have dreamed, as Haruka put an arm around her and kissed the top of her head. 

The girl noticed Michiru staring and cocked her head to the side. She glared deeply, her arm protectively around Haruk, and pulled her the other way, kissing her, making sure Michiru could see her do it. 

Of course, Michiru laughed to herself, she thinks me some sort of gawking homophobe. She looked back in the mirror, surprised to see a tear rolling down her face. 

Cheating was the only way to win the game. And cheaters never prosper. 

Michiru had not known both could be true.

[blankdblank]

Anaticula Pt 63

On the wake of exams came Draco’s birthday celebration you helped him sneak home for the mini party with his parents an your uncles and father to see him into adulthood. It almost was time as there really was no excuse to put off the plan any more since the vanishing cabinet had its first seven successful runs. Now the only issue was how to get Dumbledore to go along with the plans when he still refused to talk to you. So a plan had to be made and Minerva would lure him into a meeting. And if worst came to it and he still avoided you Peeves and the Bloody Baron had agreed to assist in trapping him in diluting some argument of theirs until you could steal just a moment of his time even if you crumbled it up and threw it at him in passing.

Soon June would be over and you were running out of time. The big day came and nerves seemed to split through the school on the early Saturday morning while you and the other Professors saw no sign of Dumbledore even after several notes and tries to uncover where he had gone. Sundown was when it was planned and there was no turning back.

.

In his office Harry found Dumbledore after sending off a note that he had sent for him. “Oh, Harry. You need a shave, my friend. You know, at times, I forget how much you've grown. At times, I still see the small boy from the cupboard. Forgive my mawkishness, Harry. I'm an old man.”

“You still look the same to me, sir. But-,”

“Just like your mother, you're unfailingly kind. A trait people never fail to undervalue, I'm afraid.”

“Sir, Jaqi has been looking for you. It’s important.”

“That can wait. The place to which we journey tonight is extremely dangerous. I promised you could accompany me, and I stand by that promise. But there is one condition. You must obey every command I give you, without question.”

“Yes, sir. But, couldn’t we get Jaqi? It won’t take-,”

“You do understand what I'm saying? Should I tell you to hide, you hide. Should I tell you to run, you run. Should I tell you to abandon me and save yourself, you must do so. Your word, Harry.”

“My word. But-,”

“No! We must go now, while the tide is with us.” His arm was offered and Harry wet his lips and reluctantly grabbed his arm and joined him in apparating off while floors below you were in your office confirming with Minerva to issue the curfew early.

The joint names in the office vanished and you punched the table, “Fuck!”

Standing up you squeaked clutching your hand and Minerva hurried around the table to cradle your hands saying, “You punched my Quill stand.”

Again you squeaked and Snape took a moment to stop chuckling to himself to aid you in popping your dislocated finger back into place on the hand he coated with numbing and creams and wrapped in bandages. “Where the fuck did they go?”

Peeves popped into your office and cleared his throat saying, “As the Baron requested I have been sleuthing again, I overheard Dumbledore mentioning something about the tide being in their favor.”

Softly you repeated, “Tide?” Then your head fell back in a groan, “Oh you’ve got to be kidding me!”

Snape looked to you asking, “Tide? You know where he is?”

“I have a hunch.” After a huff you said, “K?”

At your side he appeared and you crouched saying, “I would like to apologize for this, however, I need you to go to the cave where Regulus found Slytherin’s locket.” His lips parted and you shook your head, “Dumbledore may be taking Harry there. Signal me when they get to how Regulus was, you remember?” And he nodded, your hand pressed to his shoulder bolstering his courage, “I am so sorry. Signal me when he gets thirsty and I’ll call them here.”

“Of course Mistress. No harm shall come to young Harry on my watch.” And he popped off.

As you stood Minerva asked, “When he gets thirsty?”

“There’s a potion you have to drink to get to the locket, it makes you thirsty, and you have to keep drinking it through the pain it inflicts on you. When you touch the lake Inferi come to kill you.” Parting her lips, “It almost killed Regulus. Dumbledore is going to nearly kill my cousin for a decoy.”

Overhead as she strolled to the hall Minerva’s voice echoed through the speakers, “A strict curfew is being enforced, all students return to your dormitories at once, all Professors ensure that your quadrants are cleared.”

On your left Draco entered the room with Barty beside him, “Professor,” he nodded his head to Minerva in passing her and she patted his shoulder in a consoling way.

Snape, “We will give you a cushion to get Harry and Albus back again. I am certain Bellatrix won’t mind a few questions.”

You nodded, “I’ll let you know when they’re back.”

Exiting the halls they left to head for the cabinet while you clapped summoning your draconic spell book and traced the only allowed pathway the visitors would be allowed to take, from the Room of Requirement to Dumbledore’s office and then out the front exit spreading impenetrable barriers around each hall and room around it. The shimmering barriers vanishing made Barty smirk widely at you saying, “Have I told you how spectacular you are today?”

An exasperated chuckle left you and you closed the book sending it off home again, peering up at him you couldn’t talk as he leaned in to steal a quick peck on your lips making you shake your head keeping from tugging him closer for another and say in his knowing chuckle, “We need to find that ghoul.” Turning back to Minerva’s class peering into each hall along the way until you found it lurking around an empty classroom banging books together in some grunt filled song. Up to Dumbledore’s office he was led and Minerva ensured all Professors were keeping guard over the dorms they had been assigned while you stood watch over the enchanted map in Dumbledore’s office.

Up on your right however Phineas stated, “He will see reason you know.” Peering up at him he continued at your locked gaze on him, “It’s all fear. We all face it. Some worse than others. You have not led him astray.”

“How could I possibly lead him astray when he won’t even answer my letters let alone stay in a room with me?”

Phineas huffed, “I was not aware of that. I will speak with him, encouraging him to stop running from your aid.”

All at once K popped back saying, “They have the fake locket, Mistress.” A snap of your fingers later the pair appeared in the office and a blast of yellow from your hand coated Albus, who was writhing in pain on his knees latching onto Harry’s leg.

Harry wide eyed said frantically, “I don’t know what’s wrong, he drank-,”

With a huff you said, “I know what he drank.” Gripping Albus’ hair you tilted his head back summoning a stream of water from the swirling ball of water in front of your palm into his open mouth he drank until sated when you ceased it. Looking at the calming Professor who you helped to his feet you asked, “Are you quite done killing yourself to confirm I am not lying to you?!”

With a huff he snatched the locket from Harry’s shirt pocket saying, “We got the locket horcrux!”

With a nod you spoke ‘open’ in Parseltongue and he scrambled to catch the note and you said, “Read it.” Opening the note his lips parted in reading it and he looked from it to you in shock, “This mission of yours is going to kill my cousin. From now on leave him out of your plans if you have anymore foolish ideas. Now, if you will kindly behave, it’s time to kill you.”

Harry’s lips parted only to see you snatch his bleeding hand you held over the mouth of the Ghoul, who lapped up the blood and morphed into Albus. Cradling his cut hand in your release of it you raised your hand calling his wand to your palm you aimed at him shrinking him into a salt and pepper Scottish Terrier with a bowtie collar on. You magically nudged up to a dog bed you summoned before looking to the Ghoul Dumbledore and said, “The moon is lovely tonight Professor.”

With a nod he grinned and turned to inspect it closer on the balcony, “Why yes, yes it is.”

In a look at Harry you said, “I’m going to have to turn you into a cat again.”

With a nod Harry pocketed the locket you had held hovering in the air and the note with it for him to read later and drew in a deep breath as your warning ball of light was sent off to Draco that everything was in line. Barty entered the room when you opened the door to see Harry, in cat form strolling over to lay next to the real Dumbledore on his massive cushion hearing his huffs and mutterings. Both uncertain of what was coming.

.

“That one is the Big Bear, Mum’s favorite when she was little. Aunt Lilly had these big posters of them from a trip to the museum trip their primary school took them on. Even Petunia loved to stare at them twinkling when they bewitched them to cover their walls.”

The opening door turned your heads and with your hands behind your back hiding the Elder wand in your grip you stepped back with Barty’s arm draping around your middle seeing Bellatrix’s gaze shifting over you both in her usual sneer. Behind her Rudolphus stood beside Snape and Draco.

Ghoul Albus looked Draco over in his approach, “Good evening, Draco. What brings you here on this fine spring evening?”

“I heard you talking.”

“Yes, we were discussing the stars. Even when alone, I often talk aloud to myself. I find it extraordinarily useful. Have you been whispering to yourself, Draco?” The teen’s eyes narrowed then flinched to you only to see you lean more into Barty’s chest in the tightening of his grip well out of the way from the opening behind the fake Headmaster. “Draco...you are no assassin.”

Hastily Draco blurted out, “How do you know what I am? I've done things that would shock you.”

“A cursed necklace, poisoned mead? Forgive me, Draco. I cannot help feeling these actions are so weak...that you had no connection to them. You have far darker alleys open to you if you were in fact willing to harm. Why even a slip of a vial from your cousin’s venom collection could have fared better.”

“He trusts me. I was chosen.”

Albus, “Then I shall make it easy for you.” His hand reached into his pocket where his wand would be to draw an ordinary twig charmed to look like the Elder wand.

Draco, “Expelliarmus!” The fake wand flew off to the far wall on his left.

Albus, “Very good. Very good. You're not alone.” His eyes searching over the shadows hearing snickers.

Draco, “There are others.”

“How?”

“The vanishing cabinet in the Room of Requirement. I've been mending it.” Harry’s eyes popped open and his claws flexed only to feel a charm from you holding the pair on the cushion.

Albus, “Let me guess. It has a sister. A twin.”

“In a secure location. They form a passage.”

Lowly the fake Professor mumbled to himself, “Ingenious.” Then he wet his lips and said a bit louder, “Draco... years ago, I knew a boy who made all the wrong choices. Please let me help you.”

Draco, “I don't want your help! Why would I need your help when you’re too afraid to see what’s in front of your own face! Who’s really on your side!” The words meant more for the hiding Professor laying his head down in shame as they sank in.

Bellatrix strolled forward smirking, “Well, look what we have here.” Resting her chin on his shoulder, “Well done, Draco.”

Albus, “Good evening, Bellatrix. I think introductions are in order, don't you?”

Bellatrix, “Love to, Albus, but I'm afraid we're all on a bit of a tight schedule. Do it.” She smirked pulling back.

Rudolphus smirked stating, “He doesn't have the stomach, just like his father.” Rudolphus’ finger reached out to stroke Draco’s arm teasingly making him flinch it away from him making him step forward saying, “Let me finish him in my own way.”

Snape stated drawing attention away from you in your silver eyed gaze at Fawkes, who nodded in return at your plan he agreed to, “No! The Dark Lord was clear, the boy is to do it.” His hand patted Draco’s back nudging him back into his mark and raise his wand, “This is your moment. Do it.”

Barty stated, “Go on, Draco.”

Bellatrix shouted, “Now!”

Fake Albus muttered, “Severus. Please."

Fawkes at once took flight screeching as he grabbed Draco mid faked swish of his wand and aparated off to your classroom where Minerva let out a relieved chuckle and gave him an eager hug relaxing him in her hold far from the scene taking place far above.

A flash of green from Snape’s wand before Bella or Rudolphus could and the Ghoul went flying down to the cobbled path below while the fleeing pair of Death Eaters fled through the school smashing all items you had doubled in the means of allowing them some feigned display of destruction. Muffled crashes and booms had the students both above and below hiding from the windows they ensured to be shuttered and they huddled together in the common rooms waiting to be told it was safe again.

Down you went to the courtyard with cat Harry and dog Dumbledore behind you, a wave of your hand had Harry shifted back again to steady at Barty’s side. The double of Hagrid’s hut now burned to cinders just like in your dream from the night before, while the man owning it slunk from his hiding place to join your growing group. Another had under the light of the green Dark Mark in the sky lit up on the glass coffin you were constructing around Dumbledore’s body.

In a stolen glance from one of the windows the Puffs were first to see there was a body and they rushed out coming to find you all. Steadily all students were out in the night air peering at the rising glass coffin settling on the wheeled golden cart that sealed shut with the lid that Fawkes flew out of the castle to peer at in landing on your shoulder. Softly your hand glowed and you raised it pointing upwards with Minerva next to you with her wand raised with its glowing tip stirring a ripple of students after until the glowing mark was blown away revealing the stars again.

Minerva firmly spoke, “All students to the Great Hall now.”

In lowering your hand a swipe of it had the coffin rolling off you inhaled sharply seeing the depressed students all peering between you and Minerva on their way to the Great Hall. Silently they took their seats and you were among the last to enter with Dumbledore in dog form trotting beside your feet stirring the students to climb higher on their benches to get a glimpse at him. A sudden shift of your hand and it folded around the Elder Wand in your back pocket while gasps and whispers grew at the formerly protected Professor, with powers unblocked, shifting back to his natural form.

Trotting up the steps he stole a glance of you and Barty moving to stand in front of your usual spots at the table by Snape on his right while he stood at the podium. “All of this, is quite unusual. Though I must regrettably inform you, that until Voldemort is destroyed, I must remain publicly deceased.” Whispers and gasps continued and he said, “It is regrettable, but for things to progress Hogwarts must seem weakened. I must go into hiding, though, not out of sight.”

In his own sudden thought he added, “From this day forward you will see my other form, a Scottish Terrior, the class mascot if you will, a stray allowed to remain on grounds as a sort of joint pet. I will remain within these walls. Watching over you all to aid whenever possible. Professor McGonagall will be my successor of course, and when this news breaks, no doubt your families will attempt to keep you from returning next year. If you choose to return or if not, we will do all in our power to ensure you are safe.”

A muggle born boy called out, “What about our families?!”

His brother nodded, “Ya! What about ‘em?!”

Albus turned to you and you felt the eyes of the room follow suit making you state plainly, “Any student, muggle born or pureblood alike shall be granted housing should they feel unsafe,” at the boys’ opening their mouths again you raised your hand, “Your families included. Like this body we will bury the day after tomorrow doubles can be made and minds warped to erase those in hiding. There are still two weeks before we go home, write home, for any but you to know Dumbledore is dead. If your families are scared, if you need a place to hide let us know, we will make arrangements and by July we will enact those plans.”

A girl from Gryffindor asked, “How did the, double, die?”

Albus, “Murder.” Lips parted.

Another girl from Ravenclaw asked, “How did the Death Eaters get in?”

Albus, “That is not important,” in the chatter afterwards he added silencing them, “There is a greater plan in play. Kindly head back to your dormitories and write home to your families.” Slowly each student got up and began to file out chattering about what had happened while a trio of Slytherin girls drew you from Barty’s side to theirs in their continued gaze at you.

Lowly when you reached them the tallest whispered in concern, “What am I supposed to do? I can’t go home after this?! Now he’s gone no telling what we’ll be made to do!” The girl on her right said, “Our parent’s can’t-,”

Cutting them off you said, “We have a place for you to stay. Write home, say you will be staying with me.” They nodded and you said, “Anyone else saying the same you tell them write me a note, you do the same, I’ll make a full tally of who all I’m taking watch over and in July you’re coming with me. I told you before, everyone has a choice. Now go write home and don’t worry everything will be taken care of by summer break.” They nodded and thanked you hurrying off to join their house as you turned to join the Professors spotting Harry and Draco joining the others to try and sleep themselves.

Looking up to Albus you asked, “Your plan now?”

Exhaling softly he stated, “I clearly owe you an apology. Several. However past planning my funeral I shall leave my part in any plans to you deem me fit for.”

*

“I did nothing.” Harry stated slightly stunned that he watched you lead that fake Dumbledore into that trap so calmly, clearly having benefited from those acting roles. In Ron’s glance at the locket he passed it over, “It's fake.”

Hermione, “Open it.”

Harry wet his lips after unfolding the note he had pocketed with the locket,

‘To the Dark Lord.

I know I will be dead long before you read this...but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match...you will be mortal once more.’

Ron, “Who wrote it?”

Harry, “I think it was Regulus, years back before Jaqi joined him in searching. Which means it was all a waste. All of it. I almost died for nothing.”

Hermione, “Not for nothing, for him to finally trust Jaqi again.”

Ron bumped his shoulder, “The dads’ll be proud. You keeping to the plan, not interfering.”

“I'm not coming back, Hermione. I've got to finish whatever Dumbledore started. And I don't know where that'll lead me...”

Hermione, “I've always admired your courage, Harry. But sometimes, you can be really thick.”

Ron, “You don't really think you're going to be able...to even figure out what to do by yourself, do you?”

Hermione, “You need us, Harry.”

Watching Idris and Fawkes with the giant Phoenix and his hatchlings soaring in the night sky he stated, “I never realized how beautiful this place was. And we’re almost leaving it for good.”

Hermione’s head met his shoulder, and Ron said, “You can only wonder what the triplets had found and missed before Jaqi got asked along to teach. No telling how even they managed to find that cabinet in that mess of a room.”

Harry, “Wonder who put it there.”

Ron, “Maybe it was like Dad said, they used it to escape, maybe that’s how they planned on evacuating back then.”

Hermione, “Can’t be very big.”

Harry, “So it was just, someone…Maybe that was Riddle’s door, maybe when he tried to work here he thought he could come and go as he pleased since the Headmaster’s the only one who can aparate on the grounds.”

Ron, “Riddle must have worked there, at Borgin’s. Dad said it was reserved for years back when Riddle was young. Maybe he did come and go. Looked for things to hide Horcruxes in maybe?”

Hermione, “No wonder Jaqi found them so quickly then. If he hid them in the school.”

Harry, “She was so calm, through it all-,”

Ron’s shoulder bumped his, “You know Jaqi just like we do. She’s an iceberg, no telling what’s going on below the surface. She’s had to face worse than we have since our first year.”

Unable to help it Hermione yawned and the trio slumped together in front of the fire, unwilling to head off separately to sleep in their dorms.

*

Mandrake roots, not the screaming plants themselves but their roots. A simple and efficient yet highly illegal way to create a double of yourself while also being impossibly dangerous. Like ghouls all it takes is a few drops of blood and then your body will drop as the double forms up. Though that is only where the differences begin. Your body drops because as the mandrake is shifting to become you your consciousness is pulled into the shell. This bond can only be severed by you and also leaves you in a sticky situation, while your new double can be blasted and blasted unaffected by various dark curses your body, the real one, is very much vulnerable, so if someone were to destroy it your soul would be trapped in some ageless limbo for all eternity.

Highly, highly illegal, but root by root you doubled the Muggle population while moving their real bodies to one of the colonies on your island specifically for the Muggle born families with heavy enchantments on each home just in case. Each day they would relax in the resort like place and then ‘sleep’ in the designated way to rest their real bodies while their doubles in their old homes went to work and went about their usual routines as to not draw up suspicions. Street by street and soon nearly a full city had been doubled as you realized they had all moved there to be in a like minded community for their children.

You had already broken the law, so why stop now. RoR club took a turn, all students were mandated to attend and with special help from Moody you stood across from him in front of the students saying, “Today, I am going to be teaching you a special spell I created to both defend and attack. In effect it rebounds the unthinkable curses, at least two of them back into the castor.” With the incantations clearly stated and repeated by the students they watched as Moody cast a Imperius curse at you and you rebounded it and made him curtsy.

With the twins here to help you instruct each of them you would cast the curses and the teens with Moody’s guidance until each of them could easily use the rubber spell and send you flying back to the ground or into a joking action to stir up laughs. The other effect of having so many attacks not unnoticed by you was that after a while they stopped effecting you as much, and by the last you had barely flinched at all. But still each day the classes would delve into more serious protection charms and defenses one could lay around houses or family members on jewelry or clothing to repel certain people or to make them unseen by any foe.

.

Still the summer came and the day when you would divide the students into groups the help send them either off to the safe islands or back homes to see their families. Once again you had left early and beat the returning students to your store fully stocked with more recordings of this latest Quidditch season. One by one fans trickled in to see four of the winning team and out again to head home as the time ticked on and Diagon Alley reached its usual emptying time slots. Soon you would have to ready yourself for the nerve wracking task of going back to the manor, but thankfully it wouldn’t be today.

.

Screams filled your home and jolted you from bed only to find Ginny in the empty ballroom hurling glass balls she’d charmed not to break at a mattress stood on its end between muttered sentences no doubt from the crumbled letter at her feet. In the doorway you, Draco, Neville, Percy and the twins stood watching her until she turned and huffed. “I thought I muffled he room, sorry.”

Draco pointed at the ball on he floor, “I take it that’s from Harry?”

She growled out another huff and floated the ball higher and it flattened itself out, “It would be safer for us to remain apart. I wish things were different however it’s not safe for you to be in a relationship with me!”

Lowering your head your hand rubbed over your face and you grumbled, “What an idiot..”

Raising your head you caught her gaze and she said, “When you go to Dudley’s party you give him a whack for me!”

You nodded. “Will do.”

In another huff she said, “Sorry I woke you. I’ll muffle the room. Just need a few more throws and I will write the most scathing reply it’ll turn his hair pink!”

Holding back your chortle you turned the head back to your rooms after telling her your doors are open if she needs you. Clearly Harry was being stupid, and clearly Ginny had all the ammo she needed to make him realize this fact.

.

Around the table at Privet drive after you had whacked Harry in the back of the head you glanced at Dudley who flashed you a grin saying, “Thanks for the concert tickets, how’d you even get them? Been sold out for months.”

With a grin you replied, “I know one of their roadies.” Parting his lips, “Went to school together.”

Vernon, “Hogwarts? They worked at Hogwarts and work as a roadie?”

With a chuckle you said, “There is a great deal of monotony in our world too. Though he’s saving up cash while his own band is on hiatus for their pregnant drummer.” Making them nod in understanding.

Dudley sighed, “Wish I knew how to play an instrument.”

With a smirk you replied, “Never too late to learn.”

He shrugged, “Might pick up a lesson in University. Got into X.”

With brows raised in Vernon and Petunia’s glance your way you asked, “That’s, a good school? Like top tier?”

Dudley’s cheeks turned pink a bit and he mumbled looking away, “Well, not the top. Twelfth overall.”

“Well done, Dudley.” His eyes met yours seeing your grin easing his out again, “I’m not up to date on Muggle schools, but well done. I am certain you will be marvelous.”

Dudley, “Mainly got in cuz Dad went there.”

Your hand waved in front of you, “Legacies are nothing to scoff at. Families aside I’m certain if they thought you wouldn’t fit or do well they wouldn’t have accepted you.”

Vernon, “Exactly.”

Petunia, “Are you continuing to teach next year?”

“I believe so, unless Dumbledore changes his mind again.”

Harry chortled, “Not likely him being technically dead and all.”

Petunia looked at you and you shook your head, “He’s gone underground, not dead.”

Petunia gravely asked, “Has it come to that? Again?”

“Afraid so, ya.”

Dudley, “Are there going to be more bridge attacks?”

“We’re going to try to keep that from happening again.”

Petunia, “Should we move?”

With a grin you shook your head, “Trust me, when it comes to that I’ll come get you, pack it all up and keep you safe.”

*

“Have that scrubbed!” Through each room the teens tasked to join Riddle’s ranks by their families were ushered into the task of scrubbing the Manor while Riddle worked himself into a frenzy for your visit the following day. A sighting of Barty both infuriated him and lit up his darkened gaze, “Crouch, how is our Queen faring today?” He wasn’t certain where he had first heard the title but once he had it was insisted upon that each Death Eater referring to you used the title.

“Bit tired. Got roped into another family event on her Mum’s side.”

Riddle nodded then turned his head with brow ridges furrowed in a snarling path to the teen moving a tall decorative vase you had complimented once allowing Bellatrix to stroll up to Barty with a wide grin as her hands settled on her greatly rounded stomach. “Barty, I see, again, our Queen has neglected to pay her respects to our Dark Lord.”

Barty flashed her a smirk, “Jaqi is otherwise detained and will be here next week. Did you do something with your hair?” The second question asked in his move past her to head for the sitting room where Narcissa usually sat.

Huffing in a waddle after him she stated, “I happen to be pregnant!”

In a glance back Barty smirked, “So no to the hair then?”

“This happens to be our Dark Lord’s child!” She said in his entering the sitting room.

“Well you certainly haven’t been showing Rudolphus any affection, so who else could it belong to?” Plopping down in the chair beside Narcissa’s he flashed her another smirk.

Bellatrix huffed and said, “Rudolphus understands our Dark Lord needs as many pure blood women of notable lines to breed him an army. Part of why our, Queen, should be here showing her allegiance, properly, on her knees.”

Inhaling sharply Barty spoke before he could think about it he blurted out, “Well that’d be difficult being as she’s due in a matter of weeks with our own.” That made Bellatrix shift on her feet with her smirk dropping as Riddle entered the room and drew closer to the group.

“Jaqi is with child?” Riddle asked in a move to sit down.

Barty exhaled in a pointed glare at Bellatrix ignoring Narcissa’s confused gaze his way she was reigning back as he said, “She wished, to tell you herself, next week at the dinner.”

Riddle, “Is she managing well? She has not written to me of this.” His eyes narrowed. 

“Apparently there was some faulty supply of ingredients for the home tests she had been taking through the season, and with the regimens she’s been able to keep quite slender, but she has picked up some weight lately and we noticed the supply blunder and, positive. We were going to get married before the baby but she wanted to wait, something about her great grandparents and a traditional dress.”

Riddle, “Of course, of course. If she is unwell to travel here next week surely she can rest until after the birth.”

Barty shook his head, “She’s calmed down to the summer schedule. Taking it all in stride, Regulus is fawning over her when we’re apart.”

Riddle nodded, “Of course, of course. Yes, he saw to her upbringing, no doubt she would ask for his assistance.” His eyes scanning over the floor in thought muttering, “She must be protected and seen to always.” Making Bellatrix scowl deeper.

Pt 64

[kaionace]

POKÉMON TYPE AESTHETICS

grass - potted plants. fragrances. dirt under your fingernails. dried flowers. fresh fruit. herbs and spices. “even the mighty oak was once an acorn.” rustling leaves. growth.

fire - fresh-baked bread. ashes. volcanic glass. hot coffee. “seek what sets your heart on fire.” burning the evidence. hot springs. an explosive temper. leaping before you look.

water - raindrops. a ferry boat. bubble baths. cool, calm, and collected. coral reefs. the mysteries of dark water. “still waters run deep.” glitter. acoustic guitar. navigating by the stars.

electric - circuitry. inventions. sparks. “I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.” thunderstorms. spotlights. friendly races. old-fashioned rock-and-roll.

rock - fossils. sparkling gemstones. “pressure is how coal turns to diamond.” dust in old houses. crumbling castles. secret hiding places.

ground - solid foundations. living off the land. buried treasure. an expensive watch. muddy boots. “you reap what you sow.” heavy chains. clinking coins.

normal - studying. cups of hot tea. pink ribbons. singing to yourself. “find magic in the mundane.” leatherbound journals. soft fur.

fighting - a code of honor. bandaged knuckles. energy drinks. teamwork. “there is good in this world, and it’s worth fighting for.” bells. trophies.

psychic - books. glasses. intuition. restful sleep. “knowledge is power.” velvet curtains. masks. incense smoke. knowing things that are impossible for you to know.

dark - sunglasses. leather jackets. “if someone thinks they have the upper hand, break it.” fighting the only way you know how. black cats. gray hair. the full moon.

ghost - walking alone at night. the wind in the trees. shivering. cups of tea left to grow cold. “the past doesn’t stay dead.” being shy. being scared. being brave.

poison - sickly sweet. look, don’t touch. glass bottles. “it is the dose that makes a thing poison.” punk rock. purple eye shadow. carefully styling your hair to look messy.

bug - butterfly wings. scrapbooks. “though she be but little, she is fierce.” stringed instruments. feeling small. swarms. stained glass. protecting the little ones.

flying - lattes. airplanes. “what would you do if you knew you could not fail?” clear skies. nice hats. goggles. sunglasses. riding off into the sunset.

ice- snowflakes. “cold hands, warm heart.” hot cocoa. fluffy coats. ice skating. being elegant yet threatening. impermanence. preservation.

steel - a knight in shining armor. gadgets. shifting gears. cold iron. silk. polished mirrors. “concision in style, precision in thought, decision in life.” defense.

dragon - swords. shields. scales. roaring. “you are a force of nature.” breathing fire. hoarding old. dark chocolate. a sky full of stars. sharp teeth.

fairy - pastels. lillies. sweet dreams. royalty. gilded cages. silver keys. enchantments. winding paths in the forest. “and they all lived happily ever after.”

tagged by: stole it! tagging: steal it if u want to i just did because ive been playing pokemon the past three weeks

[kaijutegu]

Sunderlocke Update 6: And Stephen!

Ah, the simple joy of being able to actually use your whole team. For once, things are actually going smoothly for Beatrix, and she’s... daresay... enjoying herself. Just a little bit. Freedom from adults means freedom to do whatever you want with your money, which means freedom to eat nothing but malasadas and dress like... this.

Beating Olivia was easy, just as expected. However, another adult expected Beatrix to solve his problems.

Beatrix is eleven. An eleven-year-old’s core competencies include learning how to use deodorant, having their growth spurt, and getting better fine motor skills. Maybe they’re in band and learning how to play an instrument. Maybe they’re developing crushes. Maybe they’re getting super competitive with their friends. But they shouldn’t be solving adult problems.

So when she got to Aether Paradise and saw Nihilego for the first time, well. Beatrix had a plan.

If this wasn’t a game, this probably would have been the end of it. Beatrix would have given up on her island challenge right then and there and gone back to being a sulky kid on the internet. As it is, she’s a sulky, rapidly-souring kid fighting battles that are way out of her depth- and there’s not a whole hell of a lot she can do about it.

At least her Pokémon are there for her. Affection is finally maxed with all of them, which is really tedious when you can’t unlock the stage 2 islands for Poképelago. Or even all of the stage 1 islands.

It’s worth it to see your big dumb cat look like this, though. The status condition says “poisoned,” but her eyes say “catnip overdose.”

At least the only problem she had to solve in Malie City was meeting up with Lillie at the library- and there was an old familiar face from Kanto, there. Beatrix hadn’t ever met either Professor Oak personally, but you didn’t grow up there without knowing of them, at least. And he actually wanted to talk to her! So that was good.

Trades

Wimple the level 19 Zubat (Diglett’s Tunnel) -> Trompeck level 19 the Trumbeak

Wicca the level 22 Gastly (Memorial Hill) -> a level 12 Cutiefly -> “McNugget” the level 1 Torchick

Watermelon the level 23 Raticate (Akala Outskirts) -> “Chirrut” the level 1 Pachirisu 

Wuyi the level 24 Tentacool (Hano Beach) -> “Yíng Sī Táng” the level 1 Swirlix (a Chinese Swirlix- the name is a word for cotton candy in Chinese) (He’s Yíng for short) 

Waddlesworth the level 24 Psyduck (Malie Garden) -> “Yikka” the level 14 Mudbray. I’m super pleased about this one, even though it’s very unlikely I’ll get to use him- Mudsdale’s one of my favorites from this gen, and honestly one of my overall favorites. I like the way it plays in combat- it’s one of my favorite big tanky mons. 

Levels

Lots of evolutions this time! Unless something bad happens, this is my final roster.

Lucina the Dartrix Decidueye : 32 to 39

The Original Kitten Mittens the Torracat Incineroar: 33 to 39

Tentacha the Tentacruel: 34 to 39

King the Gyarados: 25 to 37

Stephen the Electabuzz: 46 to 50

Tama the Meowth Persian 33 to 41

I was pretty surprised by the last one- I didn’t think Tama liked me all that much! I am gonna miss her Pickup ability, although Fur Coat is great for a permadeath challenge of any kind- physical moves do less damage.

Highlights

Fought Hau again. Once again, his Brionne went down in one hit. As did the whole rest of his team. The kid is utterly clueless about type advantages. You want to beat your grandpa? Get a bird.

You’ll never have one over on me, Hau.

[sweetkiwi-vt]

Creepypasta OC

Pablo and Lilly #digitalart #creepypasta

About the characters:

Both are related.

The man in the chair is called Pablo...

No wait.

I'll just let them speak.

Lilly:

Hello!

My name is Lilly Ork and I'm 4 years old.

I like pandas and bears, because they are really cute!

I also like listening to my papa. He always gives me something fun to do!

I don't like lemons. They make me want to throw up, also I don’t like chilies, but I like cakes! Papa doesn’t let me to eat them so much though.

I don’t have a mama or grandpa and grandma. I saw papa kill them.

I don’t go to school either. Papa said that that's a bad idea.

Daddy told me that when I was little I met my grandma and grandpa once. They didn’t like me, when I asked about my mommy he said she didn’t like me either!

I didn’t mind it though. As long as papa gives me Pat's on the head and buys me new toys every time an old one gets dirty I don’t mind!

I have long brown hair made in pigtails, with such cute pink ribbons I took from a girlie I saw on the street. She got really mad at me, her mommy too. So papa took her out that night! Then he gave me the ribbons!

I wear a really pretty one piece dress with paws print on it! Papa bought me that dress recently, but from being nice white color it turned red, the brown. When I asked my papa about it, he told me that red color changes to brown when dry. I think I missed a part then.

One day I got really sick, my eye was really itchy, so papa and I went to see a doctor.

Papa then told me that I had Heterochromia. I'm not sure what that means. He gave me an eyepatch to hide one of my eyes.

I have a story on that too. Little while ago I got lost in a supermarket. Papa and I were out shopping for trash bags and something to eat. An old lady found me there. She told me I have beautiful eyes. Apparently I have one green and one blue eye.

Papa was mad at me for going off on my own, but he praised me for finding another annoying victim.

I don’t speak much, papa doesn’t like noise, so I'm quiet. I don’t really like to speak either. Now that I think about it, I don’t like hearing other people talk. Papa always talks to me and with me but I don’t hate it. Because its papa.

When I'm alone with papa and not haunting annoying people, we usually draw and collect things. I like doing that!

It's really fun to collect rocks and then draw on them!

What I dislike to do is talking with older men. They always look weirdly at me. My papa too dislikes them.

I cant read or write but papa is teaching me!

I can now read headlines of newspapers alone!

I really like my teddy bear. This is 3rd one already.

Kill?

I like to give poison to people my papa points out to me.

I usually walk to a person papa doesn’t like and then lead them astray!

Then my papa strangles them!

If not that, then I put white poisonous powder I have in my teddy bear.

People don’t suspect anything. That's weird.

Well it was nice talking to you!

Papa is behind you though. His eyes are telling me that both of us were quiet annoying and noisy just now!

Good bye! It was nice talking to you!

Eren:

My name is Eren Ork. I am 24 years old, a collage drop out and orphan.

Well not to then full extent, as you will hear later on, I killed my mother, father and step brother.

Why?

Because I was bored and they were all annoying.

That's what I hate the most, annoying people.

This is my story. It's not short but well, listen to it while you still can.

I've been alone since I can remember.

I grew up in a rich family.

"Next heir of our cooperation"

"He is so smart he can do anything."

Well, I would've stayed if my mother wasn’t a cunt like she was.

She would force me to study and made me spend my hours watching my father work.

Maybe because she wasn't even sure if I was my father's child.

As far as I know, I'm a single child. An only son of the CEO, and like I said only one who can actually take over the company.

So I was adored and respected to some point.

I learned how to act.

Sing.

How to play a piano.

And how to hate my family.

I never went to actual school. Other then my mother's abuse in a way, I was always alone. So when I turned 12.

I discovered something really amusing.

"We are reporting. The several killings that have been going on. As the reporters from the scene are reporting. In this small house, like you can see. We found multiple bodies. Their skin was used as a canvas, is what the policeman are stating. It is still..."

My face was glued to the screen.

The fact, that someone could do something like that, amused me. It seemed interasting. I wanted to try it.

But...

"What are you doing?! Aren’t you supposed to study?!" My mother was screaming at me from the door to my room. She's so loud and annoying.

"Get away from that. Damien! Take that thing out of my son's room!" So loud.

"You move away from that thing!" She stomped next to me, and grabbed me for my arm and pulled me up.

"Let me go, you loud hag." Is what I told her.

She just frowned and slapped me.

I felt it, I wanted to return her the same favor. But my father was behind her.

"Just what do you think you are doing?!"

That night, they fought through the whole night.

I just thought.

"Oh. This is fun"

For the 1st time in my whole life I found something fun. Yes, the 1st time.

Due to my actions and absence, my father bought me a cat. It was loud so I killed it. Then the dog, then the hamster, then they just gave up on buying me pets. I would always think of some reason on how they died. I couldn't tell them I liked how when they kinda screamed.

So, when the tutors would come in...

I would make them turn away.

Leaving my father and mother the only other option to educate me.

Boarding school.

When I was 15. I got sent into the boarding school. It was a private school, which are usually boarding schools. Unlike other rich boys I was thrilled to get sent into one.

I was away from that annoying mother. But...

Now there were some adults with no real status giving me orders...

So annoying.

It wasn't an only boys school so.

"Hey Pablo is kind of handsome?"

"I know right. His brown hair and eyes are so special!"

To let you know. I have dark brown hair and green eyes. I was told a lot that my Emerald like eyes resemble my mother's, never saw her in color, and my hair kind of resembles my father's. That's why they probably suspect me not being an true Ork, but a bastard child of some sort. And my build, well it was normal. I had height, but I wasn't anything special really. So...

"Ahhh. I wonder how would be to date him." "His family cant reach mine though" I never understand those girls.

So they are annoying.

I want them to go away.

"Hey" I spoke in a normal tone. I didn't want to let them know I'm pissed off. More like "They are giving me a headache."

"Oh sorry." The girls looked at me surprised. Only one of them spoke.

They had sad faces on. I couldn't care less. I would like to see them all cry. Maybe I could mess with them for a bit.

I could only grin on that idea. The fact I didn't think of something like that for so long....

So by the time I was about to graduate. I was considered popular in my school.

People would want to talk to me.

For the first time in my whole life, what my bitch of mother thought me paid off.

I was popular, I had fun ruining people's lives.

Until I mention the rest. For the whole 4 years I haven't visited my mother or father. I couldn't stand idea of them.

I haven't seen them or talked to them for 3 or 4 years. My boarding school didn’t allow parent visits, so I saw them at the day of graduation for the 1st time after 3 years.

"God. You've grown so much Pablo." My mother was standing in front of me. When I was 14 I was still looking up at her, now I have to look down to be able to follow her. She had her hand on my cheek. She was crying. I still didn’t understand it. She was also annoying. But during my time here. Other then good grades and popularity. I gained ability to fake my feelings quiet easily.

Not that I felt any.

I just smiled at my mother. "You've gotten older mother.".

"Well aren’t you mister obvious."

My father was staring at me from the side. He had a grown on his face.

You asshole.

What so I don't take after you anymore so you get all cold with me.

After the graduation ceremony. I returned home. And started collage.

In collage it was the same as high school. This time it wasn't a private school. My father's business was falling apart.

He also held a grudge against me never visiting home.

Like I care.

In collage, I met an interesting girl.

She was from a poor family and liked me.

So we started dating.

It was a good way for me to try out discovering "love".

Since it seems like my mother is planning something. Just to be ready.

One day, she called me drunk and came to visit her.

And we slept together.

And then, the bitch disappeared.

She dare disappear after using my body.

And year later, she appeared. But this time she had a baby with her.

An ugly worm.

BITCH.

Ahh

Annoying.

Annoying.

Annoying. Annoying.

They are all annoying.

She gave the brat to me and left again. Like hell.

"What the hell?! Just what do you think you just did?!" Screamed my mother at me as I was left in a hallway, door just closed with 2 month old baby in my hands.

Tch.

"Now no one would want to wed you! You idiot chil--" next thing I knew was that my grip was on my mother's neck. "You are so annoying and loud. Another word and Ill snap that God damn neck of yours." I let her down.

Baby was just looking at me, she didn't cry. Just stared. That took my interest.

"I will be in my room."

"Pablo! Get back here!" I walked away listening to my mother scream my name as I went up the stairs to my room.

I was 20 when I got my daughter in my hands.

Pretty young.

She was the only quiet one. She cried first few months until she turned one. After that she didn't cry almost at all.

My father and mother didn’t like Lilly one bit. So when she turned one I dropped out of collage and was kicked out of my house.

I saved money over the course of my birthdays from age 18 to 20 and had enough money to get myself a apartment and small job.

.

.

.

Hah.

You think that's the end of my story?

Of course not.

When Lilly turned 2.

I went back to my house. Just to show Lilly her family.

There I met, a boy. He was around 10 years old. Heh. My parents adopted another child. To rise him as their company's successor.

Hahahaha.

Apparently, my father's company got big after I left.

They didn't even bother to tell me, to visit their only son.

I put Lilly down and snapped.

I killed my whole family that night. Oh how?

Simply by strangling them all to death, wouldn't be enough? Well that’s right.

Despite them being worse the horse crap. They did let me in the house.

We were invited to dinner every weekend. So I thought of a better way to kill my family.

I purchased a slow killing poison, I made Lilly put some in my father's tea when he was playing with her. For my mother, when I was showing her off my cooking skills, I cur her wrist open. I could just grin as she bled out. How did I not get found out? Because I had Lilly with me. I would go out of the kitchen "to fetch something" while Lilly would be in kitchen for a little while then start crying or scream. My plan went just as expected.

My father collapsed after being drugged for weeks on the poison, and my mother would be killed in a matter of hour.

All that was left was to get rid of evidence and then act as if I know nothing.

That day staff was out of the house. So Lilly didn’t have to scream or cry. There was a main butler and maid, but they didn't really care, being occupied in their own business.

So I just gave my mother sleeping pills. She probably overdosed. And the fiasco with my father went as planned.

So my dirty Step Brother, he too was a sleep. All that was left was to...

Bam. Put the house on fire. That's what I did. And...

"The big cooperation of the Ork family has fell under, due to the whole family's death. The whole house was burned to the ground by, how it seems, a mistake from one of maids. She used the fire lamp trying to light the rock over in the kitchen, burning the whole house down. Fire started in the kitchen  making the staff fall unconscious due to the smoke. When the family noticed the fire it was already too late."

I was staring at the screen with grin on my face. Lilly in my lap looking at the screen. Lilly was smiling,

The first words she every said were papa.

After that she never spoke again.

She was smiling this time and seemed really exited. "Papa! We do that again?!" Didn’t expect her to react that way.

"Did you find that fun?"

Lilly nodded at my question.

She is truly my daughter.

I put my hand on her head.

"Of course, well kill lots and lots of annoying people again."

"Yes!"

And so

My killing spree as a Black Demon began. Yes. My nickname is only black. I wonder who is the worst in our duo? I gave my precious angel a teddy bear, in teddy bear there was poison. Every time we go to kill.... We are always ready.

Hope you liked them. I'm planning on changing their names , but I don’t now in what.

If you have a suggestion please do tell me.

[boneandfur]

Closure [6&7]

Chapter Six [The Princess]

Notes: This is two chapters in one, featuring the POV of both Sophy & Maxwell.

Words: 2164

Tag list: @drakewalkerwhipped  @hhiggs  @youwontlikewherewewillgo @nicestrokepam @theroyalweisme @hopefulmoonobject @laniquelove @penguininapinktuxedo @pbchoicesobsessed @dangerous-capri15 @alicars @mfackenthal @ninamckenzie22 @topsyturvy-dream @viktoriapetit ~ sorry if I missed anyone!

Song: Let Her Go, Passenger

Sophy hates this party. The sugar mice have already been eaten, and her mummy is dancing, dancing, dancing with the king, which has made Papa sad. It's made her Uncle Bertrand happy though -- he's been smiling like his face will fall off since they arrived at the palace, as if he wasn't talking to Mummy in that grumpy voice before they left. 

Don't you remember? We've been practicing for months. You must remember, Lilly. Sophy, you are dismissed. Go play with your dolls. Of course, he was not so grumpy with Sophy, but she saw the way he looked at Mummy, and fiercely wanted her Papa to come home.

I'll be home soon, my sweet little squirrel. Look after your mama and your little sisters. Papa had kissed her on the forehead, and she had wondered, in the morning, why Uncle Bertrand was so grumpy. 

She hadn't had to wonder for long.

She, Gemma and Talia had been playing with their dolls under the long table in the breakfast room (Kenna had defeated the evil Azura, she was marrying Diavolos and Valentina, and her best friend was a dragon). They all tensed when the shouting match began. Talia screwed up her face, like she was about to start bawling, but Gemma grabbed her hand and pointed down the tunnel of chairs that led to the door. After Talia started crawling, clutching her blue dragon plushie, Gemma had looked at Sophy, her brown eyes filled with tears. 

Come on, Gemma mouthed. In Sophy's ear, she whispered, Let's go see the babies and Miss Jess. 

Miss Jess was a lady that Uncle Bertrand had hired as a nursemaid to watch the babies for the social season. She knew the King's big brother, which confused Sophy (shouldn't a big brother be King?), but she was more fun than Mummy, which made Sophy feel bad, so unlike her sisters, she could not warm up to Miss Jess. If she thought she might love Miss Jess more than Mummy, Mummy would feel bad and send her away -- just like her Aunty Vannah had gone away, Mummy screaming bad words and throwing things. Whenever she begged for Percy to come home, Papa tried to pretend he was not about to cry. 

You go. I want to see Papa, Sophy whispered. Tell Miss Jess I'm in the greenhouse.

The lie felt funny in her stomach, like the time she took a bite of Papa's birthday cake that before it was served. Gemma hugged her, hard. Then she followed Talia down the tunnel of chairs, not once looking behind her. The shouting got louder. Sophy saw Uncle Bertrand's feet, pacing up and down. His voice was the loudest. 

Peacocks would be welcome! The Cote d' Or... Bleeding us dry! I've had to borrow money to fund our return to court, quite a bit of it. How could you leave like that... I'm sick to death of it, do you hear me, brother? 

Bertrand, it's not like that, I was winning, if I could have a little money, I can win it all back for us, please... I only need ten thousand euro...

A little money, Max, that is not a little! Some commoners make only twice that in a year. Our pockets are not deep like your Saudi friends, they are full of holes. ...Yes, I borrowed money. Quite a bit. So stay away from the casinos until after I have paid at least half of it back, or god help me, we will be in it up to our necks. 

Papa! Sophy burst out from under the table, throwing herself in his arms. Uncle Bertrand turned his face away. The ugly scowl on his face scared Sophy, and she buried her face in her Papa's chest. 

That child... You are truly your father's daughter. Uncle Bertrand patted her on the head with affection. Max, we'll continue this later. 

But if they had, Sophy had not heard a word of it. Instead, Mummy had told her she was to accompany them to court, because the king was throwing a party for her, for Sophy, because she was such a big girl now, and he had heard that she was the very best of all House Beaumont's daughters.  

"This is boring." Sophy looks at Jack. He is a funny boy, with messy dark hair, green eyes, and freckles. "Aren't there any other kids for us to play with?" 

"No." He sticks out his tongue at Sophy. "Look!" Jack points out the corral. Something is glinting outside in the grass, a piece of gold foil. "That looks like a chocolate crown! Those are my favorites!" 

Jack wriggles our first, and Sophy follows him, game for anything. The  edge of her dress rips, and she knows Mummy will be mad, but she doesn't care. Once they get outside, the candy lies on the ground between them. It's a piece of chocolate, wrapped in gold foil and stamped with a crown. They both fall in it, squabbling. Chocolate with a Cordonian Ruby nougat center is Sophy's favorite. 

"Look!" Jack points. "There's another one!" 

It's like a game. They fill their pockets with the little candies, grinning at each other, each trying to get more than the other. The candies lead to a dark path, down a twisting maze of tall hedges. Sophy pauses at the edge, unsure, but Jack breezes past her, shouting:

"Look, Sophy! A lollipop!" He holds it up in his hands triumphantly, it's a rainbow swirl bigger than his head. "And there's a unicorn horn for you!" 

Pushing back her trepidation, Sophy follows him. It is very dark here, beyond the lights, and the blackness seems alive. "Jack..."

"Well, well, well. Who have we here? Well met, Master Jackson Nevrakis." 

Sophy cannot breathe. Jack turns around in confusion. He has a smear of chocolate around his mouth. He doesn't look scared, so why does Sophy feel so funny? She turns, too. There is a whiff of something sickly and sweet. 

A beautiful lady stands before them in a golden gown, pale hair glittering with diamond combs. "You must be Sophy Beaumont," she says with a soft chuckle that makes all the hairs on Sophy's arms rise on edge. 

Run, Jack! But she never gets the words out. Something sweet smelling is pressed on her nose and mouth, and beside her she hears Jack's body hit the grass with a soft whumpf.

Chapter 7  [The Husband]

"Maxwell!" Olivia snaps her fingers in front of his face. "Are you listening?" Her gaze follows his. The king and Lilly have waltzed out of the ballroom and the open doors to the balcony. Olivia's lips twist into a grimace. "We may as well wait. He likes to take his time, he's quite the generous lover." 

Maxwell feels like he's been stabbed all over, like he is bleeding out. His vision flickers, everything going dark except Olivia's face. He feels for a chair, collapsing into it. 

My Little Bird with throat so red, sings sorrow, sorrow, sorrow. He's singing for his love who's dead, sing sorrow, sorrow, sorrow. (1)

Maxwell jumped when he heard the lullaby. Lilly stood near the cradle, rocking baby Sophy in her arms. He was overcome with emotion, and he pressed his fist in his mouth, not daring to interrupt the moment. For before this, Lilly's interest in the baby had been nil, and Maxwell was the one who rocked Sophy to sleep every night, her sweet, milk-drunk face making him fall more and more in love with her. She had a nursemaid, of course, a sweet girl from the village, but to see Lilly with their daughter in his arms broke his heart. 

The doctor had told him Lilly would come around, that it was a thing called postpartum depression, and soon she would love Sophy just as much as he. Plenty of rest, the doctor ordered. And perhaps, her own mother...? 

But who is Lilly's mother? She would never speak of her life before Cordonia. All she would say, when pressed, was that That was a long time ago. I don't want to talk about it. 

He pressed his forehead against the doorframe and listened, for now she had begun to speak in a soothing voice. It is like the fairytales his own mother would tell him as a child, about brave Kenna, fighting for her kingdom against the evil Luther, and Valentina, the fierce and lovely female mercenary who fought by her side. As Maxwell listened, a chill crept into his veins. Though Sophy was not yet at the age of understanding, he still did not want her to hear this. 

Once upon a time, there was a little girl with hair like crow's feathers and golden eyes like the moon. The old king died when she was still in her cradle, and her mother stole her from the palace in the dark of night, the blood of the regent on her hands. They wandered for many moons, over hill and dale, until they heard a little bird singing in a lonely cove. There, they found a little cottage in the mangroves. And there they stayed, and they were happy. But when the little girl turned fourteen, the queen ate poison and died...

Lilly. He'd opened the door, and stood there. She'd turned to him, a sudden darkness in her eyes. Her arms tightened around Sophy, who let out a shriek of pain. Maxwell grabbed Sophy from her arms, cuddling her to his chest until she quieted. Lilly's eyes in the low light were unfathomable. 

That night, she had wanted him to hurt her in bed. Hold me down, she said savagely. Fuck me like your whore. Don't think I haven't noticed the way she looks at you. Well, she can't have you. Fuck me hard, Max, or I'll go find Bertrand. I've seen the way he looks at me when he drinks. 

To his shame, he hadn't been able to perform. I can't hurt you, Lilly! he'd protested, and she'd thrown her drink at him, screaming that she wanted a real man, someone who would fuck her like she deserved, someone who knew how to make her come. After that, she was gone for three weeks, and when she returned she was satiated and satisfied with herself, like a cat in heat that has been let out to roam. Faded yellow and green love bites had peppered her neck and breasts, and her look had dared him to do violence, to make her his in a sick way, but he was never that sort of man, the kind she needed, the one she wanted. 

Someone shoves a glass into his hand, and he drinks, not caring what it is, until the room swims back into focus. "Lilly..." 

"That's right. Your precious Lilly." Olivia's voice is fierce, yet she is trembling, and there is such a vulnerability in her eyes that Maxwell cannot look at her, it mirrors his own pain too deeply. "Spreading her thighs for the king, taking my place. You know I loved him once," she continues, staring off into the distance. "But I loved Drake more. Everything was taken from me, Maxwell. Love... dignity... But for Jack, I would quit this accursed island." Bitterly, she sets her glass down. Tears run freely from her eyes. "Why didn't you send her away, once you knew what she was?"

But Maxwell is striding away, oblivious to Bertrand's hiss of disapproval, and when he exits the ballroom into the gardens he breaks into a run, his feet taking him down the paths he remembers running through as a child, before Lilly, before Liam was king, tears blinding his eyes. "Lilly!" Maxwell howls. "Lilly, Lilly!" 

The King passes him in the moonlight and sees his tears, but says nothing. Liam is like a man possessed, on his face is every betrayal scarred across Maxwell's heart for all eternity. Something familiar is in his face, so familiar, so dear, that Maxwell has looked at every day for the past seven years and denied -- not wanting to recognize the truth. The pain doubles him over. 

Past him rushes Lilly, calling for the king. She has greenery in her hair, her skirts are rumpled. She does not know Maxwell, she does not care. The darkness opens up and Maxwell grabs her by the waist, throwing her down in the soft grass. Lilly stares up at him in surprise, and then fear. He doesn't know what he wants to do, only that he wants her to know that she is his wife, his Lilly, his and only his, the desire to hurt her like a black serpent twisting under his skin, where it has lain for seven years in bitter solitude. 

That is when he hears it, the panicked shouts that makes his blood run cold, and the fear crystallize in his veins. 

"Sophy! Sophy, where are you?!"

this rhyme is from the fairy tale, Jorinda and Joringel

[diamond-song42]

The Nonsense Thing in Diamond’s Head Today 4: My Favorite Pokemon

*Lusamine header for no reason whatsoever*

Diamond here with another weird thing. To further expand into Pokemon-related topics, I thought I’d teach you a bit about me and direct your attention to my header photo. That is a grid of my favorite Pokemon of each type. Why did I choose those? What significance do they have? You’re about to find out! I will list these in order by type - I have no real order for which ones I like more than others. Let’s get started!

GRASS: SERPERIOR. Serperior is the final form of Snivy, the Gen 5 Grass starter. I pick Serperior for two reasons. First, its Hidden Ability. Contrary is one of the best abilities in the game. Serperior uses it masterfully. It has access to Leaf Storm, a move that usually lowers the user’s Special Attack. But with a Contrary Pokemon, that Special Attack is going straight up. Yes, each turn a Contrary Serperior uses Leaf Storm, it will only get stronger. If that’s not fabulous I don’t know what is. Reason 2: It just looks so cool. It’s a 10'10 snake. It could literally kill and eat you. So regal and snaky.

FIRE: INFERNAPE. Infernape, the final form of Gen 4 Fire starter Chimchar. Infernape holds special significance to me. I started my Pokemon journey with Pokemon Diamond, knowing nothing about the game or creatures within. Chimchar was my first. Yes, Chimchar is my equivalent to Ash’s Pikachu, Brock’s Steelix, May’s Blaziken, Dawn’s Piplup, Serena’s Braixen, and Lillie’s Vulpix, Snowy. Infernape and I went through a great journey together and I couldn’t ask for a better partner.

WATER: SHARPEDO/MEGA SHARPEDO. Though Infernape might be my first, Water is in fact my favorite type. Sharpedo, Archie’s partner, wasn’t a Pokemon I gave much thought to until Gen 6. Gen 6 gave it a pretty great boost with a Mega Evolution. There’s a combination I like to use with my Sharpedo. First, I protect it for a turn (or two if I’m lucky) and let its Hidden Ability Speed Boost bulk it up a bit. Then I Mega Evolve it and let Jaws tear up the field. It’s a Pokemon that can use Strong Jaw to its advantage! Not to mention the Mega Evolution is sick. It’s super big and has spikes protruding from its nose. You are not safe. I’m still waiting for a Pokemon parody of Sharknado with Sharpedo. It is my first and favorite choice of Mega.

NORMAL: SILVALLY. Here’s another one falling into the “Cool Looks and Ability” category! It’s Gladion’s best buddy and discount Arceus. The discount Arceus factor is part of my reasoning for choosing it. The other is its utter versatility. All its stats are equal, meaning it has ground as a Physical Attacker, Special Attacker, or maybe both. Its signature move, Multi-Attack, will always be STAB, Memory or not. And have you seen Gladion’s Silvally? So cool.

ELECTRIC: LUXRAY. The electric lion of the Sinnoh region takes this slot. I’ve always liked Luxray’s appearance. That jet black fur with the gleaming eyes is really intimidating. Speaking of Intimidate, it has the ability going for it (even if its stats are trash). Not sold on why you should like Luxray? Look at Clemont’s. He’s so cool. He’s Clemont’s war beast that lights up the field with Electric Terrain and jumps on Ash. “A Campus Reunion” is one of my favorite episodes of X and Y, and Luxray is a big part of that.

PSYCHIC: MEOWSTIC. Oh yes, I am choosing the advanced version of demon spawn cat Espurr for this one. Meowstic has a unique concept in that both genders have different appearances, movesets, and abilities. Females go on the offensive (which is awesome in itself), while males stick to defense. The male sticks out here for me because he has access to Prankster, a great ability that gives priority to status moves such as Swagger, Taunt, and Torment. The female has access to Competitive, which is okay but not as great as Prankster. The male also just looks cooler. The vivid blue with white stripes just feels better to me than vice versa.

FIGHTING: LUCARIO. The Pokemon that helped decode the mystery of Mew! I love Lucario. It has reached the iconic state shared by Pokemon such as Pikachu, Charizard, and Mewtwo. While it may not be the best stat-wise, its character makes up for that. It’s a loyal puppo that can throw Aura Spheres and make bones in its hands. I mained it for a while during Smash. And can I add how cool it is in the anime? Maylene’s Lucario takes no shit from her because it knows she can do better. Cameron may be a pathetic rival, but his Lucario is really tough and relatable (seriously… have you seen it eating ice cream?). Korrina’s Lucario is loyal and truly wants to improve when it can’t control its Mega Evolution. Lucario’s Mega is cool, but underwhelming compared to others. I will always stick with my original Fighting-Steel puppo.

ROCK: LYCANROC MIDNIGHT FORME. In case you didn’t get the hint from my Lucario analysis, I love dogs. Lycanroc is an awesome dog. Three forms, all with different strengths and cool links to the elements. None of them are the most superior in competitive play, but they’ve already become infamous among Pokemon fans. I choose the Midnight Form as my favorite because it’s an awesome rock werewolf. It just looks so cool! It also executes its special Z-Move, Splintered Stormshards, the snazziest. Midday Lycanroc is a standard loyal Poke-doggo, but it doesn’t have the same charm as Midnight Lycanroc for me. Dusk Lycanroc is a fusion between the two, but my OCD will not ignore that blue and red do NOT make green. I’ll battle with my loyal, badass lycanthrope any day!

GROUND: MUDSDALE. THE GORGEOUS HORSIE OF THE ALOLA REGION! The minute I laid my eyes on Mudsdale, I knew it would be awesome. I doubt you’re surprised if you read my content. I love how it’s based on the Clydesdale horse, which can get HUMONGOUS. (Google them!) I’m 5'9 and I could ride this if it was real (unlike Charizard)! Its Stamina ability is superb and has helped kick my ass many times. Plus it has cool dreadlocks! Not to mention its connection to Hapu, a perfect cupcake of a Pokemon character. I fully expect that Pokemon theme park that’s opening in 2020 to have a Mudsdale merry-go-round. I NEED TO RIDE MY PONY.

FLYING: DRIFBLIM. Gen Z, a long time ago when we played with Wiis, we had a game called My Pokemon Ranch. The game allowed you to watch Pokemon up to Gen 4 and transfer your own Pokemon from Diamond, Pearl, and Platinum. You can also visit other people’s ranches, and when you do, a Pokemon close to you follows you. That Pokemon for me was Drifblim. The dopey-looking balloon thing from Gen 4 was glued to my side when I visited my friends. I’m amused that it’s gaining some viability in tournament play now with Tapu Lele and Unburden. My choice is less about the tournament play and more about how a balloon was my best friend in a cheesy Pokemon spin-off.

BUG: SCOLIPEDE. The largest Bug-type in the Pokeverse. I was still a little naive when I got Pokemon Black. Scolipede was one of my first captures in the game and became a staple of my team. I love its design. Most Bug-types are pretty small and don’t intimidate the opponent too much. Scolipede does this. It’s even larger than Buzzwole and Pheromosa! The stats and abilities got a mild boost in Gen 6, with the Attack gaining an additional 10 points and its Hidden Ability becoming Speed Boost. I do believe my wonderful horror movie beast is underrated and should get more appreciation instead of being delegated to an antagonistic role in the anime.

POISON: MAREANIE. James’s latest crush also has a spot in my heart. Mareanie has a wonderful design. A blue and purple color palette that can poison a person with less effort than Nililego. Mareanie and her evolution, Toxapex, have access to two boss abilities, Merciless and Regenerator. Toxapex is cool, but it’s a theory I have with Mareanie that causes the pre-evolution to win me over. If Mareanie can fully wrap herself around James’s giant head, it could wrap around my torso and carry my necessities in its tentacles. It’s a companion and a backpack! Thank God for Mareanie.

DARK: WEAVILE. Another Pokemon I have fond memories of from my Diamond and Pearl days, Weavile is the long-awaited evolution of Sneasel from Gen 4. I caught a Sneasel and played around with her for a while… AND THEN MY NAIVE BUTT LEARNED HOW YOU EVOLVE IT. I patiently waited until it became dark outside and I leveled Sneasel up and BAM WEAVILE. Weavile became one of my most used Pokemon in that game. For tournament play, its stats are actually pretty good, and both its abilities (Pressure and Pickpocket) do damage in different ways. And it just looks so menacing! That’s what a Dark-type should be.

GHOST: MIMIKYU. I mean… what’s not to love about a Pikachu clone? Okay, it’s not a clone in the essence of Pachirisu or Togedemaru. The concept around it is so heartbreaking and creepy and lovable. Unlike most Ghost-types, Mimikyu just wants to be your friend! It’s super powerful, too. Its Disguise ability is amazing and can change the dynamic of a battle in seconds. Its typing also gives it few weaknesses and THREE immunities. And need I mention the Z-Move? It’s the best Z-Move I’ve ever seen. Splintered Stormshards is cool, but you really need to look out for the dreaded Let’s Snuggle Forever. Mimikyu just wants to do its best for you and you should love it.

ICE: ALOLAN VULPIX. Yes, Snowy is in on this! I’ve always loved the Fire-type Vulpix. But when it gained the Ice-type, it became 10 times fluffier! It’s a walking cotton ball! I’m disappointed Build-a-Bear only has the Fire variant because I want to get the Ice variant and hug it and love it and pet it and squeeze it. And y'all know by now how I feel about Lillie and her family. Snowy is so supportive of her! Even though she’s the youngest Pokemon of the main characters, she clearly understands Lillie’s past and trouble with touching Pokemon. She gives Lillie a nice distance while staying close. One of the most supportive Pokemon I’ve ever seen. And I want one as a pet. (Oh yeah and it and its evolution have access to Snow Warning which is also pretty fab.)

STEEL: EXCADRILL. I have a special relationship with the Subterrene Pokemon. The minute I saw Iris’s Excadrill, I wanted to train one. It looks awesome! A badass drill mole with a ‘tude. And it can hold its own in tournament play! Defensively, its typing is awesome. The Steel-type can resist so much and switch into Toxic without fear. It can learn not one, but TWO OHKO moves (Fissure and Horn Drill). And the three abilities it has access to are all great. You could go for pure power with Sand Force, get the upper hand on speed with Sand Rush, or negate abilities like Levitate and Fur Coat with Mold Breaker! Its small size doesn’t do it justice considering how big of a threat it is.

DRAGON: DRAMPA. FALKOR. At least that’s what I thought when I saw Turtonator’s Moon counterpart for the first time. Believe it or not, Falkor actually has some things going for it! Two out of its three possible abilities are amazing. Cloud Nine removes the effects of weather, while Berserk shoots that Special Attack up after HP is halved. Plus, it’s so fluffy! Lana and Mallow playing with this guy gives me all the feels. You do you, Falkor.

FAIRY: PRIMARINA. I end this list by fawning over the final form of our beloved Popplio. I was hesitant as to what the clown seal would evolve into. But this thing just straight-up Neville Longbottomed. It is beautiful! It looks like it came out of a Disney movie. Its battling skills aren’t too shabby, either. Sparkling Aria hits everyone on the field and heals burns for some reason. But it could help heal a partner with Water Absorb or Dry Skin. The Z-Move this can turn into, Oceanic Operetta, just blows my mind with the animation. If you want a reason to use Sparkling Aria, the Z-Move is a good reason. But let’s get to the best part: Its Hidden Ability, Liquid Voice. HYPER VOICE IS WATER NOW. 'Nuff said.

And now you know my favorite Pokemon. My team and I would love a battle sometime. Diamond out!

[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)

[daughter-of-war]

Fruk Day Three: Magic Mirror AU

—-I tend to dabble in flowers and blood magic, oh, and I love you—

For @frukheaven‘s #FrukSpringFestival2k17

Pairing: FrUk (Aph France/Aph England)

Pairing Type: M/M

Words: 1,897

Rating: General (Mild innuendo, nothing much)

Arthur's mirror was both his most valuable possession and his only one. He had been accused of dark witchcraft over a year ago now, and had been sentenced to death for his "crimes." Thankfully for him, he actually was a sorcerer, so he was able to sway the minds of the honest and simple folk that populated the village he lived in. The village wasn't anti-socrecy like many others around him, but they were quite hellbent on the pure use of magic in areas like enriching the beauty of people and nature, farming, and alchemy. Arthur lived on the outskirts of the village, and practiced both flower gardening and bloodmagic. Simple things like rosebushes and demon summonings were his specialties. However, he also had a terrible habit of getting much too fixated on certain things at a time, like once, when he ended up going a bit overboard with Easter Lillies and made everyone in a two-mile radius sprout the plants wherever they walked for a whole week. He'd gotten in quite a bit of trouble for that, since many of the village cats and dogs fell ill due to chewing on the poisonous flowers. He'd also accidentally released a low-level demon into the village square that decided to burn away the dresses of every lady in the town. Nobody had really gotten hurt, but that had gotten him in serious trouble. That's why his cottage had been moved to the edge of the forest from its place just outside of town. It was now a good half mile away from the outermost home in the village. It lost him lots of business, since not many people were willing to walk so far for his plants, near all of his customers going to the old woman in the center of town, even if her roses were enchanted to die a week after being taken off the bush to make everyone buy more week after week. And before he'd gotten locked away, he'd been in the midst of a bluebell crisis, and he was quite certain that by now, the flowers had taken over his house. They grew awfully fast. But despite all that, he still had one loyal customer.

Francis Bonnefoy.

Oh, the lovely foreign Francis. He was certainly the most beautiful man in the village, even if it was low bar to clear. He wasn't all that tall, as he was exactly Arthur's height without his shoes, but he was gently muscled and had a head of ashy blond hair that rivaled angels. Francis was willing to walk the extra half a mile to purchase flowers from Arthur, always smiling and pleasant. He was the one responsible for almost all of Arthur's income for a while, since nobody else wanted to walk so far for plants. So naturally, Arthur did what any man in love would do:

He cursed him.

Now, that may seem dramatic and less than sane, but it wasn't any sort of curse that could ruin lives. It was a silent curse, nothing too evil. But it meant Arthur could observe the man quietly when he wasn't at Arthur's cottage. Linking an enchanted silver mirror to Francis, Arthur was able to see Francis though whatever mirror the man happened to walk by. Francis' reflection had been more cursed than Francis himself, since in a silver mirror, Arthur would appear as if in a window instead of his reflection. Although, this ended up being less of a blessing to Arthur, and more like a curse unto himself. Francis owned no mirrors. No explanation, no obvious reason. He simply didn't own a single mirror.

Now, if he had, he would has been able to get the effect of Arthur's most lovely of curses. Arthur had made it so if Francis were to look into a silver mirror, and lock eyes with Arthur, his deepest attraction would come forth. And there wasn't any way that someone so devoted to Arthur and his flowers wouldn't love him even the slightest bit, right? That's what Arthur thought.

As he sat in the cell he now lived in, he looked at his mirror. The scene was boring. It was just Arthur himself, as as of now, Francis wasn't in front of any mirror. Right before he put it down, ready to sleep, the mirror flashed a soft yellow glow ad the scene changed. Arthur almost don't recognize his own home, which seemed to be overrun by Bluebells. The fragile blue flowers were covering the central room, where the door was opening. A yellow candle's flame lit up the area, the warm glow a sharp contrast to the cool plants covering the floors and walls. Arthur made a note to himself to undo the spell as soon as he could get out of the prison.

As he stared, he could see Francis' lips move, parhaps calling out a greeting. Why he'd show up to check in a year after Arthur disappeared from his home was anyone's guess. And the idea that Francis didn't know that Arthur'd been locked up puzzled him.

He looked straight at the mirror, too, which was hung at the back of the room directly across from the front door. His expression didn't change at all, even though their eyes were locked. They stayed like that for a couple seconds, and then Francis looked away, his attention drawn to a wooden rocking chair coated in dew and flowers. Arthur was desperately trying to see exactly what he was doing, but since the mirror, didn't move, all he could see was Francis' behind as he leaned over to look. It wasn't a bad view, but Arthur'd appreciate it if he could see what Francis was doing in his house.

Of course, it wasn't until Francis jumped back in horror that Arthur remembered that there was blood on the chair from his most recent summonings where he'd accidentally cut his arm too deeply. Whoops.

He ended watching him for as long as possible, with Francis only leaving when his candle started to burn his hand well past midnight.

¤

Arthur was released about a year later.

Of course, following basic logic, the first thing he did was go home. Upon arrival, he truly saw how much the Bluebells had taken over. Enfused with magic, the flowers had taken on a vine-like quality, allowing them to begin their upward journey toward the sun. The trees, his house, and even his laundryline had become the breeding ground for Bluebells. Despite the fact that they were quite literally ripping his home apart with their roots, they were quite beautiful. His little section of the edge of the woods was always covered in flowers, but with the addition of so much blue... it began to look alive. Even if the same couldn't be said for Arthur. He had bags under his eyes from his lack of sleep. He hadn't had a bed in almost two and a half years. Hay was nothing compared to the soft hammock he had in his bedroom. The thought of his room made the idea of going completely comatose unimaginably appealing.

As he made his way inside, he honestly tried his best to not crush the flowers, but at some points, it was impossible. Little droplets of blue blood smeared on his feet from where a flower's petal got caught beneath his naked feet. He worked his way to the back of the little stone and oak cottage, falling into a mess of Bluebell petals nestled into his hammock. With the flowers holding him like a baby in Mother Nature's arms, he fell asleep among baby blue.

¤

The knocking of a door woke him up.

He rolled out of his hammock, with the traitorous flowers not cushioning his fall.

"You'd think the least you could do is catch me, after all, I did give you my whole bloody house," he grumbled as he headed toward the door.

"Hel-lo," he stuttered as he opened the door to Francis. "What're you doing here?" He sounded infinitely more shocked than bothered.

"Well, I was wondering if you had any flowers?" He smiled with a shrug. The obvious answer was: 'Yes, I've got a million fucking bluebells, are you blind?' Arthur held his tongue on that one.

"Not any good ones, just these Bluebells. But I mean, you already knew that, didn't you?"

Francis laughed at that. "I meant more bouqets, but yes, I've seen the Bluebells!"

"Would you like to come in?" Arthur asked, his posture less than perfect. His first interaction with Francis in over two years hadn't gone to hell yet, so it was counted as a temporary success.

"Ah, yes, thank you," he said, stepping into the house, careful of the delicate flowers crawling along the floorboards. He looked up to stare at the silver mirror in Arthur's main room. "I really do miss those things," he smiled.

"Huh?"

"Mirrors," he elaborated, settling down in one of the wooden chairs after brushing off the Bluebells. "It's a shame they don't work for me."

"Don't... work...?" Arthur was thurougly confused.

"I was cursed about seven years ago, by this awful witch! I had bumped into her, and she had complimented my appearance. If course I laughed at that, and said something stupid along the lines of 'Yes, I know, I own a mirror!' But before I could say 'thank you anyway,' she'd cursed me!" He was both amused and frustrated by this, but Arthur turned pale as a ghost. His plan to get Francis to love him had just been stalking! Of course it'd been that since the beginning, but now it sunk in.

Francis looked at Arthur. "You alright there? You look quite ill-"

"I am so sorry!" He blurted out, unable to hold his tongue.

"For what?"

Arthur spilled the whole thing in shame. From his infatuation at the beginning to his heartbreak and desperation when he was arrested for dark magic and his decision to place a curse and-

"Okay, slow down," Francis cut in. "It's creepy, I'm just going to say that plainly. At least I don't own a mirror in my bedroom, eh?" He joked with a light blush. Arthur's face lit up a bit as well. He hadn't really considered that aspect. Not too often, at least.

"I'm sorry."

"But," he looked at Arthur, baby blue eyes the most vibrant Bluebells in the world. "I am attached to you, you know," he laughed. "You know how much I missed those roses? My God, how boring my living room had been these past two and a half years! But why don't we get to know each other a little better, okay?"

"Yeah," Arthur smiled. "Yeah, I'd like that."

"Would you like me to come by around eight tomorrow morning? I've been studying gardening in your, uh, absence. I can't do magic very well, but my peonies are growing well!"

Arthur laughed, nodding his head. "Eight it is!"

As he turned to leave, he looked back to say something. "I'll see you then, Monsieur Fleur! I forgot to water my peonies this morning!"

Arthur decided not to tell him that there was a Bluebell petal in his hair. And on his shirt. And pants. And butt. But he'd be sure to tell him about the Bluebells in his eyes tomorrow morning.