#ID STILL LIKE YOU IF YOU WERE A FROG

[hanafubukki]

HE WANTED TO PET A GOOOAAATTTT

For da prompt... ‘  i’m  tired  of  being  a  prince.  i  think  i  would  actually  enjoy  being  a  frog.  ’ with Malleus...🐸

can u imagine froglleus...

Hop To It

Inc: Malleus Draconia, Reader/Yuu, 1 goat, 1 cow, 1 frog Warnings: None bc this is actually a really sweet fic I promise. I diverted from angst and more into feel good for once LMAO. WC: 4k Summary: Your nocturnal friend invites you to an event at a local zoo. If he could've adopted that goat from Fleur City, he probably would've.

It’s not often you find yourself able to catch a break. Usually, your weekends are filled with needing to deal with the mountain of homework that’s grown over the week from neglect—not at your fault, of course. When you have a housemate with the mentality of a two-year old toddler, two friends that are magnets for chaos, and an overblot a month, things tend to pile up without you noticing.

But on this fine, dare you even say perfect, weekend you finally find yourself capable of catching your breath for a moment. You glance at your alarm clock to see that it’s well past the time that you usually wake up, and so with a languid air about you, you reach out to grab your phone and check the notifications.

You have a few text messages from the various group chats that you’re in—study ones save for the first year's chat—and then a few private messages. Your eyebrow raises at one in particular as your thumb drifts down to click it open. 

Ominous and to the point, isn’t he? You suppress a low chuckle of amusement as you pull up the keyboard. Despite both you and the Shroud brothers working overtime to teach Malleus the ropes of modern technology, including texting etiquette, he still seems to not grasp it in its entirety.

You think it a perfectly reasonable thing to ask. You know that your friend is of nocturnal affinity, but you’d think he’d realize you’re not apt to reply at 3 am by now. Within seconds of sending your message your phone buzzes again with a reply. 

Cut and dry, much like the man himself. He reminds you vaguely of an older parent trying to get their child's attention as you click the call button and heave a sigh. It rings once, then again, before the sound of someone picking up has a slow smile pulling on your lips. 

“I’m in your 3 am thoughts, am I?” You muse as you roll to the side to keep the charger cable from pulling too much. 

“Incorrect. Small mammals, in fact, are my 3 am thoughts.” Malleus’ smooth voice cuts down your hopes in 10 words as your brow furrows in confusion. 

“Elaborate.” In your time of knowing him, you’ve also come to realize that, to those he feels comfortable with, Malleus has a habit of streamlining his thoughts with little to no interruption from his brain to his mouth. Around politicians and strangers, he was perfectly composed in all ways. Around you, he was a certified yapper. 

“I have been made aware of the Sage Island Zoo hosting an event I’m most keen on attending, and considering what I know of you, I’d say you’d share the sentiment.” You hear a clattering sound from the other side of the line, followed by a mumbled curse before Malleus continues. “I want to pet a goat.” 

“I…” You click the speaker button on your phone before pulling up your browser to type in the zoo. “Hold on, I need to figure out what’s in your brain right now.” 

“Let me know when you succeed in doing so.” Malleus shot back as you scrolled through the zoo’s feed. You soon come across a post that seems to tell you what the man is going on about. There’s a petting zoo and expo happening at the zoo this weekend. Present will be the usual armada: lambs, goats, pigs, and alpacas. But they also highlight a special reptile and amphibian petting area as well. 

You give a small ‘ah’ of understanding as you share the post via text message with him. You doubt he’ll look at it—the complex multitasking of looking at a text message and talking on the line is still something that surpasses your young apprentices’ abilities. “You mean the petting event at the zoo, yeah? They got goats and such there.” 

“Correct! Well done, Prefect. I knew your fantastic abilities of deduction would get you there eventually.” 

You wish you could reach through the phone to pinch his smarmy face for that comment as you roll onto your back again. “And you thought of me when you saw that? Aw, Malleus. I am your 3 am thoughts!” 

“Did you want to go or not? I can easily invite Lilia, or Sebek, or Silver… although I fear Silver may end up falling asleep in the petting area. Or drawing far too many of the animals to him again…that might be quite the mess…” Malleus trails off into a thoughtful silence, which is another thing you’ve come to realize your friend does a lot. 

“Fortunately for you, my super busy calendar actually has an opening today that I can squeeze some ‘you’ time into.” You sit up with a groan of protest before looking over to Grim’s bed, where your companion is still snoring away, his belly and paws to the sky. “I don’t think Grim will be coming with us, though.” 

“That is fine. I fear he may not be compatible with the animals anyway.”

Your eyes narrow at how quickly Malleus is to agree that it would just be you and him going as you shoved the blankets off your legs. “Okay, then. Can you give me 30—” you pause and tug at your shirt sleeve for a moment before grimacing, “—actually, give me an hour. Then we can head out. The event starts at 10?” 

“According to their poster, yes. I saved it so that I may check to be sure.” Malleus sounds pleased of the fact that he’s managed to save an image from social media without a crisis happening. 

“I’m proud of you for that. If that’s the case, then let’s grab a drink beforehand.” You yawn as you finally rouse yourself, unplugging your phone and sliding your feet into your slippers. The floors of Ramshackle still manage to be brutally cold in the mornings, even with the new renovations done. You’d need to question Crowley on the furnace in the future. “I need some kind of breakfast.” 

“Perhaps if you woke at a reasonable hour, breakfast would not be a concern.” You hear the teasing lilt in Malleus’ voice. He’s in a playful mood today—more so then usual. 

He’s probably just pumped to get out and about again. 

Your nose wrinkles as your finger hovers over the ‘end call’ button. “Not everyone is nocturnal. I’ll see you soon.” 

____________________

An hour later finds you yawning in the lineup of a local coffee shop. The weather outside is continuing to be promising, with its blue skies and temperate air. You’re basking in the ambience of it all while Malleus, bless his heart, is pushing a pair of sunglasses onto his face. 

“It isn’t even that bright out,” you smirk at him as the two of you move closer in the line. A few patrons are staring at Malleus as he remains close to your side. You can’t quite blame them. Some might be gawking at the fact that the crown prince is standing in a coffee shop line like everyone else. Others might be doing so at the fact that he’s out again post-overblot. 

It’s been a bit of an uphill battle to get him on his feet—which is partially why you’re keen to keep him in this rare, uplifted mood. 

“To you,” he shoots back as he crosses his arms. A beige bag is slung over his shoulder, and he’s surprisingly dressed down for the occasion, wearing simple black dress pants and a dark long-sleeve shirt. You think the fact that he’s managed to wrangle up a pair of hiking boots from somewhere is quaint, too. He almost looks like he’d fit into a petting zoo environment. “To me, it is borderline blinding.” 

“My condolences for the weakness of your eyes.” You focus your attention back to the menu ahead as you feel his elbow hit into your side, making you hiss before chuckling. This coffee shop in question has become somewhat of a routine visit for you both whenever you’re out in town together, which is often done a) late at night and b) in the company of the rest of the quartet. Your attendance has been frequent enough though that you now know both yours and Malleus’ usual order. 

He likes his coffee black. You like yours with enough sugar that it might appeal to Sebek’s tastes. 

“I feel like you’re being ingenuine with that.” Despite the hurt in his tone, you know it’s all bullshit by the smirk that touches on the edge of his lips as you finally shuffle to the front of the line. After stating your orders to the slightly nervous looking barista behind the counter (who must be new, considering that the others are all used to Malleus by now), you spot Malleus reaching for his wallet in your peripheral. A sharp swat of your hand on his arm stops him in his tracks as you tap the debit card Crowley so kindly loaned you on the machine. 

“You didn’t need to do that.” He sighs as the two of you step aside to wait for the orders as you shrug and lean on the counter. You don’t mind buying something for your friends—especially if it’s Crowley’s money you’re spending. “I have more than enough funds to afford a cup of coffee.” 

“It isn’t about the money, it’s about the satisfaction it brings me to buy you something as a token of appreciation for inviting me out.” You pat his arm as the barista sets your cups on the counter before you hand it to him. You selectively ignore the way his fingers touch your hand for longer than necessary before withdrawing with his beverage. 

“Anyway, let’s go wrestle a kid, hm?” 

____________________

Malleus manages to get his revenge swiftly and without mercy when the two of you arrive at the zoo. Before you can even shift your cup into your other hand to grab your wallet, he’s stepping in front of you and setting down more than enough madol to purchase two passes. A part of you wants to tease him over this matter, but the man looks so damn proud when he turns and hands you the ticket that you just shake your head with a smirk and let him have it. 

Another thing about your friend—you can’t expect to do something for him and not have it returned in kind. You know he’s felt indebted to a lot of people ever since his overblot, and small gestures like this make him feel better in a way. You really have missed seeing his smile. 

You come to a stop when you get into the zoo itself to pull out the map of the area. “Right, so we need to figure out where—”

“Goats.” Malleus is looping your arm with his before you can even finish your sentence and hauling you to the side, leaving you to yelp at the suddenness of the motion. His bicep feels like solid stone against yours, which leaves you to accept the fact that you’re not getting out of this any time soon—and that you should really take Jack up on those workout suggestions. 

You continue to feel the stares as Malleus leads the charge towards whatever destination he has set in mind. A few people scatter off the walkway, and one particularly curious child points up at Malleus’ horns while boldly asking his mother ‘why does that man have horns?,’ but Malleus has blinders on as the two of you finally spot a sign for the petting exhibition ahead. 

The sign is large—as is the crowd. 

“Shit,” you mumble as you step closer to your companion. Usually you’re good with lots of people, but considering that it’s both hot out and now you’re entering a crowded space, you feel a knot of anxiety forming. Malleus’ other hand comes to rest on yours as he easily manoeuvres around with a few murmured apologies. His gaze is sharp and he seems far more alert now.

You figure it must be innate at this point. As a crown prince, being aware in crowds is a given, especially considering the high risk of kidnappings and assassination attempts that seem to plague the upper class of NRC. It’s only when a loud bleating sound cuts through the air that a smile graces his lips again as he pulls you aside. 

“Oh, marvellous,” he chuckles as he releases your arm (your poor, poor arm) and leans against the fence. A small grey goat is standing by the post, a few bits of hay hanging out of its mouth as it languidly chews. It looks like every other goat you’ve seen before—and yet Malleus is beaming like the thing is a divine gift. “Remember when that goat followed me around at Noble Bell, Prefect?” 

“Hard to forget. Sebek wanted to punt it across the square.” You lean against the fence next to him as he reaches down to pet the goat's head between its horns. The goat bleats again and tips its head back to bite at Malleus’ sleeve instead. “Probably because it kept doing that to you.” 

“Oh, you are bold, aren’t you? Unfortunately, I am not the snack that you seek.” Malleus sighs in mock despondence as he pushes the feeder closer to the goat. You jump onto his comment pretty quickly. 

“Did you just call yourself a snack?” You lean forward more to look up at Malleus, who diligently ignores you in face of cooing over the goat. You know this technique—it’s another one that your friend loves to do. 

The ‘I can’t hear you’ method. 

Well, you’re happy his confidence is back at least. You stealthily take a few pictures of him fawning over the animal to send to Lilia later before pocketing your phone and moving down the line. A few piglets are romping around their pen, as well as some ponies in the next, and a baby calf who looks up at you with doe-like brown eyes. It’s enough to make you stop and give the little guy some love as Malleus finally returns to your side. 

“See? Even you cannot resist indulging.” Malleus reaches out to scratch behind the calf’s ear with a smile as the small creature shuffles closer to the fence. “Innocence has a way of pulling us in. This calf knows nothing but what it has seen in the few areas it’s been carried to. It knows its mother, what it eats, its handlers, the stars, and not too much else.” 

“That’s a pretty sentimental way of looking at it,” you concede as you withdraw your hand and straighten up. The calf looks to you with those big brown eyes again before lowering its head to eat some of the hay off the floor. 

It seems utterly at ease with both you and Malleus—which is more than what could be said with the crowd. The stares towards your companion have amplified, and you can see it’s beginning to make him irate by the way he keeps casting a few dark looks over his shoulder. His one hand grips the fence hard enough that you’re worried he might snap the wood in a moment. In a bid to retain some of the peace of the day, you loop your arm with his, which causes his attention to snap back to you in surprise as you slot yourself easily against his side. 

“Wanna see what’s in the reptiles and amphibian section?”

____________________

You must admit, a part of you wants to see if any of the animals would react to Malleus. The man is a dragon-fae, after all. You know that bats flock around Lilia, and you’ve seen more than a few black-feathered birds cluttering around Crowley’s office window, but you’ve never seen any lizards or frogs responding to Malleus. So, when you enter the darkened room with the many tanks illuminated by heating lamps, you’re hopeful to see something amusing. 

Instead, you find that half of the cold-blooded fellows are still in their morning siesta. 

“It appears we’ve come at an inopportune moment for them.” Malleus seems more at ease now with both you at his side and the smaller crowd milling in the reptile section. Because of the darkness of the room, less people take note of the prince as you two make your rounds from tank to tank. A few ball pythons stir and look at you, and a gecko is plastered against the tank at another section, but most of the creatures lose interest and settle back to themselves within a few moments. 

Until you reach the frog tank. 

A sign posted at the side which reads ‘lift the lid at your own risk’ prompts a glimmer of interest in Malleus’ bright green eyes as he nudges the lid open to peer inside. Most of the frogs seem to still be dozing in their makeshift burrows, but one stirs awake when the lid pops open. The frog yawns and reaches a hand to rub its belly, blinking lazily as it does. 

You hear Malleus give a small ‘oh’ as he leans closer in interest. “My, he seems quite at ease, isn’t he?” 

“Probably thinks you’re his cousin or something,” you snicker as you look down at the other frogs in the tank. Malleus shoots you a narrow-eyed look before leaning back again. 

“... it’d be quite nice to be a frog, hm?” He gives a sigh before his gaze drifts to the other amphibians. “No stress, no conversation. Just hopping and eating.”

He does another pause of contemplative silence before continuing. “I’m quite tired of being a prince, you know. I think I would enjoy being a frog.” 

You lean back and look at him with a cross of both concern and amusement on your face. “Don’t the frogs usually try to become princes in the stories?” 

“I like to shake things up.” He flashes you a sharp-toothed grin as he looks back in the tank. Despite the amusement in his words and the smile he gave, you can still see the edges of exhaustion and frustration at the recesses of his expression. The crowd rubbed him wrong. He’s been on edge ever since his overblot, and it’s small things like that which send him back into makeshift pits of both despair and doubt. 

You don’t want to see him go back there, and you certainly don’t want Lilia questioning (again) why Malleus is in a sour mood (again). After the whole fiasco with him, the poor man is stressed enough as is without the addition of Malleus’ mental health. 

“You know what?” Your words come out as stern, causing his attention to snap to you in concern. “I know few people may say this, and many may not feel this way, but I like to consider myself somewhat of a different stock. So, I just want you to know, upon my heart and all the tuna I can offer Grim—”

You pause for a moment to draw it out, relishing in the way Malleus seems increasingly concerned before you finish. “—I’d still like you if you were a frog.” 

Malleus blinks slowly as your words tumble through his mind for a second before his expression falls flat. “I… really, Prefect.” 

You can’t keep the facade of sternness any longer as a grin appears and you nudge your companion in his ribs. A reluctant look of amusement crosses his features at this. “Let’s step outside for a second. This crowd is going to drive me insane.” 

____________________

The air feels fresher once you’re free of the crowds as you settle beneath the shade of a tree to finish your drinks. A breeze brushes over your skin and manages to cool some of the anxiety that blossomed from being amongst so many people after so long of being confined in your dorm on weekends. Malleus seems to grow more at ease as well when it becomes just the two of you again. 

“So.” You begin as you pop the lid off your coffee to slot it into the now empty cup. “You looked a little tense back by the cow pen.” 

Malleus is quiet for a moment as he sips his drink before clearing his throat. “Did I?” 

“Mhm. Are you doing okay?” A glance up at his face reveals his gaze fixated on the crowd beyond. He doesn’t answer you immediately as he takes another drink. When he does speak, his tone is less-guarded then before. 

Another thing about Malleus: somehow, throughout the trials and tribulations, he’s become a lot more open about how he’s feeling with everyone. 

“Not particularly.” He finally comments as he crushes his empty cup and tosses it into a nearby trash. “I don’t like to admit it—for it feels rather ridiculous to get upset over—but it still bothers me to a degree when some people… well. You saw.” 

You toss your cup into the trash alongside his. “Why is that ridiculous? You’re entitled to how you feel about something, you know.”

“It’s below my station.” A frown dances on his lips at this. You send him a sharp look in return. 

“Emotions aren’t below your station, Malleus. You’re allowed to feel upset if something is upsetting to you. Just because you’re a prince doesn’t mean you need to bottle things up all the time. I would hope you’d realize that by now after everything that happened. You and the others all needed a lesson in emotional intelligence.” 

Malleus doesn’t reply, which leads you to keep talking to fill the silence. For a certified talker, he was certainly being mute about this. “I understand that it sucks, like really sucks, when people don’t want to talk to you, or treat you like an outlier because of your looks or your status. I know that you want people to engage with you, and you’re putting in the work to do that! You’re going to the coffee shop and talking to the barista’s; you’re coming out to places like this where people will be. The more they see you and get to know you, the more relaxed they’ll feel.” 

“It takes a long time.” His response is curt as he stares at the crowd. You give a sigh and shuffle to stand in front of him. He doesn’t seem aware of what you’re about to do before you’re moving forward to drag that man into the best hug you can give a guy whose arms are crossed in a huff. He tenses under your hold for a moment, and you begin to think that maybe he really is carved from stone, until he finally relaxes and lets you do what you need to do.

The guys probably only received a hug a good six or seven times in his life. You feel like you both need this. 

“It may take a while, but it does happen. The barista’s talk to you with no issue now, and the new one will get that way too. Again—you’re putting in the work, and I can see that, so please don’t try to bottle up all your feelings again. Or Lilia will kill us both.” 

You feel him huff a chuckle as his hand comes to rest on your back. His touch is warm in a way that doesn’t make you feel uncomfortable or overwhelmed, and you sink into that contact with a content sigh. The two of you remain in this embrace for a few seconds longer before you withdraw and awkwardly pat the prince’s arms. 

“Thank you,” he murmurs as he looks at you, gratitude easing its way into his features. You clear your throat and offer him a lopsided smile.

“Wanna try petting the goats one more time?” You ask softly. “Maybe they won’t try to eat your clothing the second trip through.” 

Malleus exhales, his shoulders relaxing as he takes your arm into his once more. “Yes, although I don’t hold much hope about that being true.”

[why-animals-do-the-thing]

Every so often, I remember that I have something like 2,000 animal photos I've been meaning to edit and post from zoo trips over the past few years. This creates a problem, however, when it comes to animal ID. I'm great at mammals, and reasonable at birds. Reptiles and amphibians, though... not so much. Luckily we can outsource help on the internet!

I finished editing the incredibly cool frog photo at the bottom of this post (linked to on IG because I'm shameless) a little while ago and was absolutely stumped as to who they were. I knew I'd taken them at the Omaha Zoo this spring, but that facility has a truly spectacular set of frog breeding programs, so that narrowed it down to basically nothing.

I pretty much immediately sent it to @kaijutegu for help with an ID, because if she doesn't know the species of something, it's pretty guaranteed she'll know someone who will. And yet she was still stumped! There's not a ton of frogs with that unique face shape and mottled coloration, and still, it eluded us. Until one morning, a day or so later, when I woke up to this text:

Gotta love a friend having an honest-to-god Ebenezer Scrooge moment pre-dawn to help you figure out what type of frog you saw half a year ago. I could have just contacted the zoo, probably, but this turned out to be more fun.

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Anyway, these really cool looking buddies are fringed leaf frogs, and they actually shift from being bright green and yellow to being burgundy at night! They've got super complex pigment cells in their skin, some of which reflect light, and others of which can contract to hide the reflective ones to increase their camouflage in dark settings. It's kind of unfortunate they're displayed under blue light at the zoo (although obviously nocturnal habitats are important) because it means the color shift isn't really visible.

To my endless disappointment, I can't find a good photo of what that burgundy coloration looks like! If you know of one, please, please add it in a reblog. I must know. I must see the red frogs.

[sideblogdotjpeg]

hi everyone im really really normal isnt it really cool and normal that sol held onto this little metal name plate like it was the most precious thing he owned and carried it around with him all the time, even as a synth knight soldier, a little metal plate that had his name "solum" and was the only thing that tied him to who he is and where he comes from. "this is the only thing i had when i came to the waterpark, just this word". just one half of the plate. how did he know "bufo" was his last name? how did he know that metal plate was his? how did he know? when sol almost dies in king of dragons he dreams of a swamp that hes never been to. and its cool and normal that sol carries fragments of a person hes never been around with him forever, a history and a family and a context of what he is he doesnt even understand, that is and isnt his

and isnt it really cool and normal that sol was an abandoned and forgotten nobody in the waterpark, and then he was brought to launchpad and told he *was* somebody, he was an extension of another person, its boy wizard *and* frog pal, "familiars always smell like he person they work with", and then "the gloves are not the same i dont know whats going on what am i what am i", and then "humanoid animals are often viewed as cute by other humanoids and could be used to perpetuate mothership propaganda", and then "why clone me im just a frog im nobody", and. the memories of childhood and sense of identity that launchpad and the synth knight program offered him crumbled down overnight. hes not a synth knight and he was never a frog pal and if hes not mothership than what is he outside of that? except the kicker is that he *was* mothership, more than anyone else; "theres always the consideration that you were made in a mothership lab". that he is just an extension and a copy of somebody else.

and its so cool and normal that sol, from the very beginning, an unnamed desire that alexandrite tapped into, that almost lost him to the network, "you... could find my family? ... i have a few things id like to say to them for sure". sol finds out hes a clone and one of the first things he says was "i think that mightve been the closest thing to a dad ill ever have". brad and bron. sol wants to know swag so bad, he wants to impress him, he wants swag to like him. he practices in front of a mirror meeting him. when they finally meet face to face all sol can say is "i hate the fact that you exist". and still he fights so hard for swag. swag exists and sol is two of a kind now. sol doesnt know what he is anymore. sol sees flashes of clones at the edges of his vision. this is as close to a family as he can get. and swag was a wanderer who wanted to see the world outside his home, but sol was always looking *for* his home. sol fought for swag, but at the end of the day. swag daniels the ship of theseus. "what happens to the people who were trying to transport that got replaced by alexandrite? where does that matter go? / it disappears". "youll always be a part of me, you *are* me, how can i let you go?". sol bufos spore network, a representation of who he is, someone defined by his connections and bonds to other people. and thats the thing that ends up saving that last fragment of swag who survived, and kept on fighting to stay as the original sol bufo. swag still never got to take sol to moonstone .

anyway. cool and fun. sol bufo frog with the most twisted and mangled sense of self in the whole entire world. sol bufo who thinks of himself in terms of other people, who was by design an extension of someone else. sol who fought so hard for the family he just found out he has, and loses it in an instant. sol bufo who keeps on asking "who am i". "no matter what, you are solum bufo. and you are a good frog"

so. im normal about it

[theresamouseinmyhouse]

tim + brentwood characters as boys i was legitimately friends with in high school and think of every single day:

Buzz- Jake (fake names for all of my friends bc privacy reasons) who complained about hanging out with nerds, got into a fistfight with someone else on his football team bc they called us nerds, was thoroughly convinced he'd run laps faster if he was hopped up on pixie stix (i held his backback while he got sick in the bathroom👍👍), he tried to hit on my older sister and she laughed at him, he was so put out he contemplated becoming a monk for a week

Wes: Max, who i helped sneak an entire bottle of orange juice on to the bus to our choir competition, but was unaware he brought a full bottle of vodka as well, ended up crying on our choir teacher for the three hours after the comp and i bought him a box of donuts after school, he did not stop doing this and had severe beef with a kid he knew in 5th grade and hadnt seen since but also hadnt forgotten their name and last i knew, was still awaiting for a dreaded confrontation to eventually come

Kip: Eduardo, who we all thought was studying during lunch but was actually filling his notebook with weird facts he observed about us and also managed to chew several packs of gum at once throughout our math class before the teacher noticed him, didnt know the plot to the clockwork orange so i lied about it for 5 weeks before he read it and called me just to tell me "you lying frog" befire he hung up

Ali: Ángel, who lied several times on separate occasions to the campus security about where people smoked, forgot what chihuahuas were twice, and almost drowned when he was swimming except his older brother got him and he immediately called me while waiting for the ambulance to tell me he almost fucking died, randomly sang a song about crabs he made up throughout the day

Danny: Ben, helped me with my biology homework because i helped him with essays, once released a live rat into the computer classroom because he had beef with the teacher, once texted me at 11 p.m. because he was having a mental breakdown over his chem work before he realized he was actually looking at trig and i told him id shoot him with a tranq gun if he woke me up like this again, kept forgetting how to tie his shoes

Tim: Teddy, he catfished 6 men over the age of 30 by pretending to be a 13 yr old girl and lured them to the part of town where there is an absurd amount of wild dogs that evade animal control and are known to maul humans, i watched him lockpick the english teacher's door so he could take back an essay he wrote bc it was actually a slash fic he printed out and turned in by accident, we hung out at a dennys once and he accidentally put his hand in syrup, looked me dead in the eye and said "i did that bc im gay" and wore pastel pink for a month bc it pissed off the hall monitor, his dad, and also six teachers he didnt even have class with

[nyverieee]

rose

tom riddle x y/n

summary: after joking in Potions class that no one had ever given her flowers on valentines day, a student finds a single enchanted rose on her textbook in the library a week later. when she looks up, tom riddle is watching her with an intense, focused gaze.

word count: 844

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . .　 . • ☆ .

it started as a joke, a stupid remark during potions class, the potions classroom was buzzing with low chatter as students worked on their assignments, the air thick with the scent of herbs and simmering elixirs.

slughorn, in honor of valentines day, had given a lengthy lecture about the symbolism of flowers in potion-making, how roses in particular could be used to convey unspoken desires.

"youd think by now someone would've given me flowers at least once," i joked to my friend, carefully crushing rose petals into my cauldron. "i guess its just not in the cards."

my friend snorted, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "maybe theyre just intimidated by you. youre not exactly the most approachable person, you know."

i tossed tossing a sprig of lavender into my cauldron. "but honestly, someone ought to have made an effort. i mean, it's valentines day! evan malfoy handed out chocolate frogs to half the class, and he doesn't care about anyone but himself."

the words were meant to fade into the noise of bubbling cauldrons and Slughorn's droning lecture, but i caught the faintest flicker of movement in my peripheral vision. when i glanced up, i found tom riddle watching me from the front of the classroom.

his expression was unreadable, his dark eyes lingering a moment longer than necessary before he turned his attention back to his notes.

i tried to shake it off, but the image of his gaze stayed with me for the rest of the day.

a week later, it happened.

id just sat down at my usual spot in the library, pulling out my charme textbook, when i saw it. a single rose lay across the open pages, its petals so impossibly crimson they looked almost like velvet. the faint shimmer of magic danced across its surface, an enchantment that i somehow knew would keep it from wilting.

for a moment, i just stared.

there was no note, no explanation.

my heart raced as I picked up the flower, the soft fragrance filling the space around me. my fingers traced the edges of the petals, careful not to bruise them, as I glanced around the library. most of the tables were occupied, but it didn't take long to spot him.

tom riddle sat by the window, the soft light of the late afternoon casting a golden glow around him, his posture perfect as always.

he was hunched over a book, but there was an intensity to his focus that felt different. unlike the usual quiet concentration he carried in class, there was something more directed, more deliberate in the way his eyes scanned the pages.

i looked up, the rose still clutched in my hand, and found his gaze immediately. he hadn't been looking at his book at all, his eyes locked onto me, studying me with an intensity I hadn't noticed before.

he didn't look away when i met his gaze, his dark eyes focused entirely on me. for a second, i almost forgot how to breathe.

"whats this?" i asked, keeping my voice steady as i approached him, still holding the rose between my fingers.

tom didn't immediately respond, his expression unreadable. Instead, his eyes drifted from the rose to my face,

"looks like a rose," he said, his voice steady but laced with a hint of amusement. his eyes never left mine.

i swallowed, feeling the weight of his gaze pressing down on me, "right," i replied, my voice a little breathier than id intended. "but why leave it here? no note, no explanation."

toms lips curved slightly, though it wasn't quite a smile. "you really need someone to explain everything to you?" he asked, his tone smooth, almost teasing.

i shifted uncomfortably, feeling a mix of frustration and something else—something i couldn't quite name. "not everything, no," i muttered, though my voice faltered slightly. "but its a little odd, don't you think? just leaving a rose with no clue as to why."

toms gaze didn't falter. In fact, it seemed to sharpen, the faintest glimmer of amusement dancing in his dark eyes. "maybe.. it's because some things don't need explaining." his voice was soft.

i felt the heat rise in my cheeks, his calm confidence making me feel all the more unsure. "so im just supposed to... accept it?" i asked, a little breathless, holding the rose between us like some sort of unspoken challenge.

a slow, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of his lips, a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. he leaned back in his chair nodding, his posture effortless, and his focus unwavering.

i opened my mouth to say something, but the words caught in my throat. instead, i glanced down at the rose again, still in my hand, its petals almost glowing in the soft light. there was something undeniably captivating about it—and something undeniably captivating about him, too.

toms gaze remained locked on me, "you should keep it," he said suddenly, his voice softer now, but still carrying that same quiet command. "it suits you."

[captainzigo]

since I have been making my little pony comics for the past few months, I have basically forgotten what every single one of my duckverse comic prompts means. I had a big list full of one sentence prompts for duckverse comics that I was going to make, and I was reading through it yesterday, because I thought about making one. I was surprised to find out that I have no idea what any of them mean. instead of just deleting the list, I have decided to share with you. For what good it will do you. Think of this as a little shout out to the people who followed me for duckverse content. i havent forgotten about you. it’s also a little peek in my twisted mind. my horrible creation process. a behind the scenes look from hell. the list of prompts is below the break

max college fund

launchpad rescue hero

costco 22¢ per bite

house of mouse

door to darkness

because i’m hispanic?

donald cousins catch and release

fish wife

the greatest skateboard trick in the seven seas

backyardagins movie

evil versions boy band

gladstone gay moms

the poor part of town

private army of freaks vs my boys

you own the town. you are politics - what do you think taxes are for - not gladstone bail - id be doing everyone a favor

kids table is great actually

donald cry gold swim

beautiful gold moon

villains table

these lovebirds

gladstone can’t read

gladstone hyper specific thrift store shirt

louie seeing anyone right now?

managed my uncle’s finances

june dolls episode

may louie webs spy episode

house of mouse christmas hdl want to come

propeller cap start to turn. big wind. its a helicopter landing. thanks babe

double gay batteries

daisy likes donald snoring

if you can understand anything he says then yeah!

sora. quack pack. bald monkey

i respect your pronouns. i dont not respect YOU scrooge

why are you friends with my rival’s girlfriend

we’re sisters now too???

The dancing hacker - do you know how hard it is to lucid dream

are you guys playing dancing hacker?

how did you do that? Those dice were rigged i mean.

you guys were supposed to prepare a musical number every session

Lady in pink but with a knife

girl boss? No girl lady. But not a girl.

sephirof at the door. never seen Donald that serious in my life.

I have a superhero alter ego - like super Grover?

louie x robin the frog

daffy: i’m getting you a job in Hollywood, kid! You gonna make big times. Why? uh… i’m friends with your mom.

Duckburg community college is the only community college that does dance scholarship

duckberg community ducks, and the Duckburg University geese

in helicopter: you ever going to get tired of having our dates like this? no never.

donald take responsibility for our son! panchito what

babe your costume is terrible. why are you still in a sailor hat

tasha austin gay lesbian solidarity

hey webby! *glittery hands*

webby diary

shake for trust? glitter on hand. body slam

why did t you tell me your girlfriend is a pilot? tasha said i shouldn’t tell you because of what happened to you pilot ex. he’s still alive!

pablo: sleeper agents be like time for my next mission

CHRISTMAS GIFTS

WHATS UP T-BOYS?

donald’s boyfriends what does gladstone have against gay people

donald you should wingman for me. i thought you were gay

dugan duck is your secret kid isn’t he

huey ponytail

donald has three boyfriends why can’t i have two

woops i mexed up their super powers - let’s go, t boys! i didn’t make them trans! they were like that before, right?

your brother donald has like five partners. yeah and i’m not my brother donald. you’re right. i should date your brother donald

dewey damn girl your ass phat what are your pronouns. katy nun/ya

tying normie trans girl to a chair turbo pablo

don’t worry. the promise ring is just a tracking device

punch buggy gets steadily more and more violent

dewey’s many licenses

duck twins cobwebs

beaks: help! #911

katy can not entertain in her tiny trailer

uno gaydar donald i finally give you a job and you’re being gay on the clock??

when mom comes in and you have to hide your DS under your pillow

HDL Tulin

HDL chart

[wooahaes]

sharpshot

pairing: non-idol!mingyu x gn!reader

genre: fluff.

word count: 0.8k~

warnings: food mentions. reader and mingyu being flirty idiots. mentions of wonwoo getting the flu in the bg but he's not present.

daisy's notes: i hate him (said w heart eyes) !! imagine seeing his cute ass working at a darts booth. id die!

Fuck, why was the guy running the darts booth so handsome?

You had come here yesterday with a group of friends who had never gone to this particular festival before. To be honest, you had a pretty nice time! You won one of them a little stuffed frog since Minghao was rarely in the area for long and you wanted him to have a gift. You split a funnel cake with Soonyoung, who cheekily wiped away the caramel and powdered sugar from the corner of your mouth with a teasing comment about how you’d been distracted by ‘him’ again. Chan had gone on several rides with you when the others didn’t feel like going, happy to take one for the team and keep you company. Other times, Jun had been the one to sit out with you, enjoying a snack with you because you never gave up the chance to have festival foods. 

And now… You had dragged along your two roommates with you. Seungkwan, who read you like a goddamn book after Chan told him what was up, and Seokmin, who knew the fucker. 

“Oh him? That’s Mingyu!” Seokmin had said after Seungkwan pointed him out. “We went to college together. I can introduce you, if you want.”

Technically, Mingyu kind of knew you. He recognized you immediately as ‘the person from yesterday’ and asked about your boyfriend.

“Minghao isn’t my boyfriend,” you said with a little too much force. Fuck. Rewind. Backtrack—

“Oh, he isn’t?” Mingyu leaned against the counter. “Is he?” He nodded toward Seokmin. 

“Roommate,” Seokmin had raised a hand, chuckling. “So is he,” he nodded over toward where Seungkwan was pouting a distance away. You had promised him hot chocolate first, and now you were ‘probably going to chat up Mingyu.’ “They’re single.”

Before you could say anything else, Mingyu chuckled. “Good.” 

Oh, you knew a sign when it was practically neon lights flashing in front of you. You opened your wallet, shoving money into Seokmin’s hand and saying something about getting you a hot chocolate… and to take his time coming back (spoken under your breath where Mingyu hopefully didn’t hear). Seokmin merely chuckled and wished you luck, going back to Seungkwan and walking off with him. Which meant it was you, Mingyu, and whatever unfortunate soul came over to try their luck at the game.

Which, weirdly enough, didn’t work out too badly. 

“My friend usually runs this,” Mingyu told you. “Wonwoo ended up with the flu this week, and since he already had the spot paid for and everything set up… I told him I could do it.” 

Handsome and caring? “That’s sweet of you,” you hummed.

“He said I could keep half of what we have leftover,” he admitted after a moment. “But I would have done it anyway.” 

You leaned against the counter, resting your arms on the metal as you gazed up at him in the trailer. “Why?”

He, too, leaned against it to gaze at you. If he wanted to, he could quite literally kiss you if he just leaned down. “You get to see people happy sometimes,” he said. “Sometimes they’re only getting small prizes,.. But they’re still cute. Like the frog you won yesterday.” 

You hid a bashful smile behind your hand, Right. You chose it because Minghao liked it, but you’d found it cute, too—even though it was one of the smaller prizes. “Can I try again?”

His eyes lit up a little. “Oh?” He stood up. “Sure.”

You slid over the money, and he handed you the five darts before stepping out of the way. “Is it five to win one of the big ones?”

“Only four of the red balloons,” Mingyu said, pointing them out. “It’s supposed to be five, but I like giving them out. Three, if you’re a kid.” 

All you had to do was pop four of the red balloons to get a big one. Gold ones would net you anything smaller, but there were far more of those than there were red ones. You weren’t horrible at darts, to be fair—yesterday you were more distracted by Mingyu than anything else. Today, you had a new goal. Pop! One red balloon burst as your first dart pierced it. Pop! A second…

“Are you some kind of expert?” Mingyu chuckled.

You shrugged. “My friend has a bar. I reign supreme at darts.” 

Another chuckle, warmer than before. Endeared to you. You threw another dart through the air, popping yet another red balloon. And then another, before you looked at Mingyu.

“How many for you to say yes to a date?”

He crossed his arms, leaning against the trailer wall. “Five.” You could see it in his eyes that he was lying. I’d say yes if you asked me outright, though. 

With another pop of a red balloon, Mingyu had already written something down and slid it across to you. “I close up at nine,” he said. “And I haven’t eaten since lunch, so if you want…”

You’d treat him to whatever he wanted as long as you got to see his cute face again after this.

taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @staranghae @synthetickitsune @weird-bookworm

[pahtoosh]

lap, please

[image ID: the center is a picture of lee bodecker on a dark blue background with white dots representing stars above his head. on the left is an image of a barn and on the right is a photo taken from the inside of a car pointing at a field of grass. /.end ID]

masterlist

summer celebration masterlist

18+

wc: ~550 words

warnings: i keep trying to write a southern accent and i will not stop

a/n: i don't really like road trips !! don't tell daddy lee though, i will happily go on one with him

pairing: lee bodecker x gn!little!reader

summary: you get pouty on a ride home with lee.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾

You squirmed in your seat, pouting and staring at Lee. This was the longest road trip you had ever been on. 

Your daddy planned the perfect day today. He woke you up early and surprised you with the news of a day trip for just the two of you. He took you to the apple orchard where you picked some fruit and ate apple turnovers for breakfast. Then, it was to the farm where you petted goats and baby chicks. By late afternoon he had taken you to the tulip farm and asked a nice couple to take photos of you on Lee’s film camera. 

Everything was perfect. Until the ride home when some unexpected traffic added another two hours to your commute. You’d had such a wonderful day and you didn’t want to seem ungrateful or make your daddy upset by being bratty. But it was way past your bedtime and all you wanted was to rest your head in Lee’s plush lap and fall asleep with your face against his soft belly. 

You let out another whine. 

“I know, baby. Daddy’s sorry but I can’t drive with ya on my lap. It’s not safe, sweetheart.” He offered you his right hand to hold.

You accepted it gladly, kissing the back of Lee’s hand. 

“How ‘bout we get your mind off a’ this mess, huh? What’d ya like seen’ today?”

“Mmm. I like the goats and the duckies.”

“Yeah? That was pretty funny when of ‘em got distracted by a frog an’ broke the line.”

You giggled. “Yeah, and den all the duckies keep walking and he almost got lost! He have to walked so fast he almost fell down.”

Lee spared a look at you then returned his eyes to the road. “Did ya like them apple pastries from the orchard?”

You nodded. “They was so yummy! The bestest breakfast ever! Can we make them at home, Daddy?”

“Your daddy’s not much of a baker, baby.” He sensed your disappointment and recovered quickly. “Well, I might have a coupla’ my ma’s old recipe cards in a cabinet. There’s gotta be an apple turnover recipe in there somewhere. And we already got the best apples in the state, so just tell Daddy what else ya need from him o’ the store.”

“Yay! Yay! Thank you, Daddy.” 

“Anything’ for you, sweetheart.” Lee was grinning now. He couldn’t see your face because he was focused on the road, but he could feel your happiness radiating from you. 

“You help me make the tarts?”

He squeezed your hand. “Sure will. There’s lots a’ steps I can help ya with. Like cuttin’ up the apples. Little babies like you have no business around sharp tools.”

You hummed in agreement and daydreamed about the pastries you and Lee would make. Now feeling less sad, you looked out the window and yawned. 

“Gettin’ tired over there?”

You shook your head but you were already starting to nod off. 

Lee chuckled when he got a glimpse of you fighting off sleep. “Go on and rest your head on the winda’ baby. I’ll wake ya when we get home.”

You grunted but did as he said. You fell asleep still holding your daddy’s hand with the rumble of the car and his gentle squeezes lulling you to sleep. 

[noveldivergence]

Apostate - Chapter One - 4251w

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Apostate is a Lovecraftian crime horror with themes some might find objectionable in later chapters. While nothing more than a description of a dead body is shown in chapter one, please be mindful of triggers listed in my pinned post.

TAG LIST: @lord-fallen @coffeexafterxmidnight @philosophika (please send an ask or dm to be added)

Chapter One

Bell Baylor hated the heat and its miserable twin, humidity. Sweat clung, caul-like, on his forehead as he stood in the field beneath a haint-blue sky. He hated the feeling of the sunscreen he’d smeared on his face as a half-measure, streaking deep into the lines of his face. The sun melted the crust of sunscreen and made it drip down his temples, a mixture of sweat and chemicals colored a bone-bleached white. 

He hated the sound of the cicadas too, screaming their lusty songs from the trees, haunting him since he’d gotten here. He hated the empty creek bed in front of him, all dried up and dead. It had been full of life once. 

So had the man laying in it. Now both man and creek lay empty, dry as a bone in the hot Georgia sun. 

Red clay clung to bone as rust did to iron, and cave-hollow skull sockets stared up at him. Doctors Cargill and Lal had brushed carefully against the ribs as if they’d found a pharaoh’s tomb, but nothing could quite mute the vivid orange tone to the lower half of the body that had sunk into the creekbed. The prickled brush of a heat-dead tree-line a hundred yards away did little to shield them from vivid sky-fire beating down, but flame hadn’t faded traces of mud from bone quite yet. 

‘Found him when the crick dried up,’ the property owner had proudly told the local police. ‘Was making some rounds when a cow got loose and found his hand reaching up out of it. Scared the shit outta me, I’ll tell you that.’

The creek had been deeper once, Bell knew, full of life and death in all its forms--deep enough to cover the body of a fully grown male and get him stuck deep down in the mud and rock and red clay in this part of Georgia. 

But it didn’t make too much sense for the suspected homicide victim to end up in Slaughter County, regardless of what the name of the place may have implied. It was out in the middle of nowhere, at least until the chemical plant had moved in and made it somewhere at last. Bell could imagine the locals kicking and screaming about that the whole time too, from what he’d seen so far. Still, the plastic ID card near the body had read the name plain as day, even through mud streaks and sun-bleaching.

Brandon Severin, 24, male, white, recent fifth-year senior graduate of Georgia State University, disappeared from Atlanta nearly two years prior. Known for party-heavy behavior which delayed his graduation and lost him part of his left pinkie finger in a dazzling display of stupidity at a kegger. 

So much could have stolen the finger on the corpse after death, Bell reminded the over-eager deputy who’d briefed him: fish, frogs, the rush of current. It didn’t have to be Severin’s body, even with the identification card. It might not be. They’d have to wait for dental records, he insisted, even as he eyed the file that listed Severin had veneers.

The smile of them was unnerving even to Bell. They were as bleached-white as the rest of him, with a wrongness none of them would speak aloud. Still, he was sure all of them felt it, even Luther, and Luther wasn’t type to be easily unnerved. 

Supposedly, Severin had gotten a job interview in Savannah that didn’t actually exist. State police couldn’t find proof of it at least. Friends had claimed he’d been depressed, and police theorized he’d gone off to end it with a convenient lie to delay the search for a body or a suicide note. When his car had been found near Lake Lanier, that theory had solidified. While the case was still officially open, the police in Atlanta hadn't seen it as pressing–at least not if the files Bell read on the way over were any indicator. They hadn’t drained that cursed lake before for more urgent cases, more pressing closures. They weren’t ready to drain Lake Lanier for a party boy with a death wish, even if his rich parents were hollering to the news about it.

The creek before Bell didn’t connect to Lake Lanier. Instead, it connected to Lake Troxler, another large man-made lake dug out and filled when the plant moved nearby into Besant. While it lay in roughly equal distance between Atlanta and Savannah, the town was a convenient through point for neither. 

Dr. Lal’s head appeared from behind the shoddy barrier around the creek.

“Agent Baylor? The ribs are the same as New Orleans.”

Bell shared a glance with Luther Tanner, his partner agent in this mess sent with him to the furnace of hell that was Georgia in high summer. He’d hadn’t known the man for too long. In many ways, he was still as much a mystery as Severin and his disappearance and Bonds down in New Orleans. They’d had the case file dropped on their desks four months ago up in Quantico. If it weren’t for the New Orleans case and the nightmares it brought them both, the box of loosely interconnected files probably wouldn’t even exist. Bell wouldn’t have even met the man beside him as more than a passerby in the halls. Just another box shape with steel gray hair, sharp eyes, and ill-fitted suit.

Not that he wasn’t getting there, he reminded himself, save the box-shape that at least implied he was at least fit at one point. 

“We’ll see if we can connect Severin to Bonds.” Luther sighed, and Bell watched as the man’s fingers twitched for a cigarette as he spoke.

How many years had it been since he’d quit smoking, if he quit? Bell had seen the bottom of a nicotine patch on Luther’s arm earlier, the outline still whispering beneath the thinner fabric of a summer shirt. His own father had quit cigarettes when Bell was twenty-four but wore the nicotine patches till he’d died two years ago. Never stopped drinking. No way to know with some people. Addiction was funny like that. It pursued people in funny little ways, all their lives, invisible to the gaze of others. 

Luther met his eyes looking at his twitching fingers and sighed, shaking his head, before stomping off through the field. It would have been a lot more dramatic, if the crunch of the grass wasn’t so quietly pathetic. With a quick glance back into the black, blank eyes-that-should-have-been of their victim, Bell followed through the tall, crackling stalks.

Luther had been on edge since they’d arrived in Besant, Georgia, with this new, familiar slaying; because of New Orleans, Bell had thought, surely.  Luther would want to touch base with him about that, of that he was certain. What had happened in New Orleans kept the wheels of his mind turning constantly since it had happened those months ago, grinding his life to a stop and throwing off sparks like a train with a pulled emergency brake.

Only it wasn’t New Orelans. It was Besant itself.

What had once been a near-ghost town had only gained more people recently with the arrival of the petrochemical plant. Havich Industries had claimed yet more space in the American landscape with its flagship plant deep in the heart of the American South. Bell had heard the Havich family lived out here too. They followed the money.

And a lot of people followed them.

Bell sure had thoughts on that. 

Bastards, the lot of them, like most with ungodly money. If it weren’t for the heat, he’d be breaking out in hives from the sheer obscenity of the building on the ridge pouring out smoke and tainting the beauty of the open sky.

But Luther wasn’t Bell, and obscenity wasn’t why Luther was on edge. 

“You said something about your son living round here?” Bell kept his voice low. He wasn’t sure if Cargill and Lal, the pathologists the Bureau had sent with them, knew much about Agent Tanner, but he was sure that was entirely purposeful on the older man’s part. Hell, he only knew a little. Enough to be dangerous. Luther’s jaw clenched. He talked less about his son than he did his wife, and Bell figured it had to be on purpose. Bell was sure if they weren’t here, weren’t where Calvin was, that he might not even know the young man’s name. 

Luther knew Bell’s sons' names, of course. He knew them before Bell had told him, and he knew Diane’s name too. Luther was that sort of agent.

“I take it that’s an issue.” Bell continued speaking through Luther’s brick-wall silence. He was used to it. If Luther thought he could gain advantage over his curiosity with the tricks of stubborn adolescence, he was wrong.

“It’s not an issue.”

“You sure?”

“It’s not an issue for this case, Baylor.”

Bell paused before nodding, glancing back at the taped off creekbed as he did so. Luther had only started using first names recently, despite all of their work together. He couldn’t find it in himself to be too surprised that he’d slide back to surnames at the first sign of irritation with Bell. He couldn’t even find it in himself to be irritated. His emotional capacity for the day had leaked out his sweat glands with what he was sure was the rest of his brain and insides. He didn’t have time for Luther’s personal problems.

“So.” Bell wiped an errant string of sweat-soaked black hair from his line of sight. “You think the director’s right about this being a serial? Hell of a coincidence if it isn’t, I think. With the way the bones look and all.”

Luther nodded, before cracking a small awkward smile. Bell had learned this was his equivalent of a slap on the arm, all masculine gesturing, all reassurances, all the little things he’d so rarely been included on in life, even at the FBI.

“You ever see the sun a day in your life, or did they bring you out of the basement for this one to fuck with you?”

A glass-breaking laugh cracked from Bell before he could stop it, but thankfully Luther had heard it enough in the last four months that he didn’t wince at the sound like many did. 

“They–,” Bell stammered through laughter, “they thought I needed enrichment outside of my enclosure.”

Luther’s laugh was barkish, bulldog that he was, and his head tossed back with it. A pair of local deputies sent off glances between them and the scene of discovery, but said nothing. Bell wondered if they’d ever had a case involving the FBI. They hadn’t even touched base with the sheriff yet; they’d all got in at 0200 this morning and fallen asleep for a bittersweetly cursed five hours before leaving the air-conditioned oasis of the hotel in the morning for the scene. 

It was more sleep than they got in New Orleans.

 Breaking the moment with a nod, Luther stalked back over to the side of the ditch, craning his neck down about two feet from the edge. He’d fallen in once. Bell didn’t know it for sure in his mind, but he did in his gut, from the way the agent held himself. 

He’d fallen once too, early in his days with the FBI. Stepped wrong off a muddy lick of solid ground into a mass grave near the aptly named Great Dismal Swamp of Virginia. His foot had caved a skull, rotted through with the seep of the bog and face bloated beyond recognition even before his clumsy idiocy. It sounded like the crunch of wet and rotten cabbage being split open. Nearly twenty years on, and he remembered the sound. 

If Luther tripped, it would sound like the crunch of pottery underfoot, shattering so much history of the tomb Severin had fallen silent in. Bell had been lucky back then for dental records and lessons learned. They were lucky here for more than that. He stood by Luther and watched the doctors work with the rest of the forensics team weaving through the area around them like ants to their queens. 

“Chances of finding anything around the area aren't good. Been too long.” Luther gestured at the body, before patting his shirt pocket reflexively. Nonexistent pack, Bell thought before replying.

“What do you think about the ID card?” Luther bit his fingernail, seemingly uncaring of the black build-up beneath them.

“I think we’re either very lucky and our killer is very stupid or–” He gestured at Bell to complete his thought.

“Or the killer left it here on purpose.”

“Or Severin here really did fall into the lake.” There was a dark twinkle of humor to Luther’s eyes. “And went twenty rounds with a gator.”

“I doubt that.” Both men looked down at the bemused face of Dr. Cargill, who stood hands on hips staring up at them with wide brown eyes. “I can’t tell you yet without a full examination, but the wounds look purposeful.”

“Thank you, Rhoda.” Luther smiled a bit ruefully, shaking his head. Bell wondered if Luther’s nature was why he got the social misfits of the agency like himself and Dr. Cargill attached to his cases. He seemed to have a patience for the weird, or at least put up a good facade that he did.

Dr. Cargill hummed and went back to excavating the last bit of the body with Dr. Lal. Bell wondered if she handled the heat better with her shaved head. His own father had gone bald, and while Bell hadn’t seen any signs of that happening in his own life, he was afraid to test fate by taking the razor to it.

“Too much water damage too, before it all turned to clay and red dust.” Dr. Lal didn’t even look up from her work. “I don’t believe you’ll find any DNA or identifiable particulates on the body after the water and heat damage.”

Luther shrugged, turning towards a sound down field. The kick up of that same dried blood dust and the hum of an engine came from a distance. Bell heard Luther huff a small laugh before he realized that whoever was making their way towards them was being escorted by the property’s owner on the back of a UTV. The deputies stood straighter, as it approached.

The sheriff then.

Luther reached a hand into the ditch to help Cargill and Lal up the embankment, while Bell approached the UTV. Sheriff Harlowe was a tall man; his knees folded in an awkward slope towards the footboards of the machine. He looked less like a sheriff, Bell thought, and more like an Appalachian mountain man. He imagined that the sudden increase in population hadn’t done much for the man’s attitude or number of gray beard hairs, but despite that he’d been the sheriff for the past twenty-some-odd years.

He looked it. The thought was uncharitable of Bell, he knew, but the man had the kind of skin that had been tanned and hardened as tough as whitleather. Wrinkles sat like divots in the parts of his face that weren’t concealed by beard or brows or the longish mane of salt-pepper-rust hair that stuck out in wild strands from under his hat. He’d been the sheriff for twenty-some-odd years, yes, but Bell couldn’t tell if he had another twenty in him.

Harlowe’s father was the sheriff before him, he’d been told. Besant, Georgia had been that sort of town once. The wisp of white smoke coming over the hills from the direction of the plant was as much a marker of desolation as it was progress.

“It Severin?”

The sheriff’s voice was roughly chewed gravel sifted through an ashtray. It reminded Bell of his father’s at its root, all Marlboro and masculine posturing. The accent was different, oceans apart, but the core was familiar. Bell wasn’t sure how he felt about that, not yet at least.

“We’re not 100% yet, but the evidence is pointing towards that.” Bell glanced sideways at the property owner, who was eyeing him with an almost affectionate sense of doubt he was sure was reserved for the most well-meaning Northerners. Harlowe gave him a nod, a friendly dismissal abided by. The sheriff waited till the UTV had turned and cleared the area before he turned back to Bell.

“You Tanner or Baylor?”

“Sorry, yes, Agent Bellamy Baylor. Bell or Baylor, either work.”

“Agent Luther Tanner.”

Bell turned slightly, as Luther wiped sweaty hands on trousers and extended one in greeting towards the sheriff. He hadn’t offered his own hand, but then neither had the sheriff. The man seemed skeptical as it was of Luther, who was cut more from the same cloth of machismo. 

“Boone Harlowe. Either name is fine. Ladies?”

“Yes,” Luther nodded towards the two lead analysts they’d brought along. “Dr. Rhoda Cargill and Dr. Bhavani Lal.”

“A pleasure.” Dr. Cargill moved forward for a handshake, which the Sheriff seemed mildly surprised by, but shook her hand nonetheless. Bell wondered if the issue was one of race or gender or even her shaved head and nose ring, settling quickly on the matter of gender, as Harlowe tipped the brim of his hat to Dr. Lal next.

“Nice to meet you, Sheriff.”

“You as well, ma’am. Ma’am. You the uh…”

“Forensic pathologists.” Lal nodded towards Cargill.

“Yes, sir. Dr. Lal and I are leading the investigation into the body itself. Our team is combing the area for any trace evidence. Unfortunately, given the time frame, it’s unlikely there’s anything notable that’s lasted this long.”

“How long y’all think it’s been?”

“We can’t be sure until we’ve gotten him into a lab, but I would estimate he died shortly after his disappearance.” The sheriff nodded, turning from Lal to Cargill.

“Small mercy, I suppose. I’m guessing it’s not a drowning, Doc?”

Dr. Cargill shook her head and released an uncharacteristic sigh. She had a high and breathy voice, and the noise sounded almost musical–a lilting dirge to the deceased.

Bell sighed too, despite himself, glancing back at the creek bed. The skeleton was covered by the rise of the embankment, but he could see it–could see New Orleans–in his mind’s eye. The split of ribs. The wild slices of blade or animal teeth down to bone. The lack of eyes and ears and tongue. There had been flesh left in New Orleans. There had not been enough flesh left in New Orleans.

There were no mercies for Brandon Severin, great or small.

“Taking that as a no, huh Baylor?”

Bell shook his head, snapping back to reality to see the others giving him a concerned glance. He tried for a weak smile, feeling the crust of sunscreen crack in the lines of his forehead. Lal seemed to have a small mercy on him.

“It’s highly unlikely his death was a result of drowning.” Dr. Lal’s tone was as matter-of-fact as if she were describing the shape of the earth. “At least not without multiple major contributing factors that would have resulted in death otherwise.”

Bell had known Bhavani far longer than Luther. He knew less about her than he did of the other agent. He did appreciate her demeanor though, just warm enough to keep her overly clinical speech from making her appear unempathetic. Not that they were in need of warmth here. Since arriving, they’d been suffocating in a sauna of Southern hospitality and politeness, more cloying and clinging than even the sheen of sweat.

“So he was dumped here?” The Sheriff nodded towards the ditch.

“Or the lake, yes, and flowed down here where he got stuck. That seems most likely. There is a massive injury to his chest cavity. Given…prior encounters with a similar case, I would hazard that this was his cause of death.” 

Lal seemed hesitant to give this much information. Too many assumptions.

“Serial killer then?”

There it was.

“Too early to tell,” Luther rebutted quickly. “We’re not ruling anything out, though.”

“It is, then.” Harlowe seemed sure of himself, and Bell sighed.

“It’s complicated.”

“How–” Luther’s firm voice cut the sheriff off.

“It’s complicated. But again, we aren’t ruling anything out.”

A cloud the shape of a file box shadowed Bell’s mind. No need to worry anyone local. Not yet at least, but the sheriff looked as skeptical as Bell felt. And why shouldn’t he? Before the plant had moved in Besant was unincorporated, known for nothing more than a horse breeding facility. Harlowe had the demeanor of a man who had a fine discernment for horse shit, a sommelier of lies that got caught up in good breeding. 

The white smoke lingered above the hillside.

“Woulda hated to see him before he was just a pile of bones,” Harlowe commented from somewhere just behind Bell’s shoulder. His mind had meandered at some point during the muffled conversation. It was wont to do that more and more these days, especially since they’d been called to the Bonds case. He wondered if he should bother worrying about it. It seemed that he had so much to worry over, particularly corpses in creeks and swamps and ditches and run-off trenches.

He’d ruined enough by putting worry off in his life. What was a little more? 

Bell lingered near the back of the group, only vaguely listening to their conversation, instead staring between them, below them, into Severin’s empty eye sockets. Nothing else could be done in the field at this point. They’d have to transport body and earth and particulates alike back to the cold closet of a medical examiner’s office in the local hospital’s basement, hoping all the way that no equipment broke in transportation. Or, he held back a sigh, anything they had to send away for analysis got lost in the mail. It had happened more than he cared to admit. More than the FBI would publicly admit either.

“You’ll have to push the gurney back up towards the gravel road. We ain’t getting the morgue truck down here, not anytime soon, especially with how well it’s holding up. Hey--”

The sheriff had turned a glare to the younger of his deputies.

“No smoking. Dry as kindling out here, you’re gonna light yourself and the whole damn field on fire. Jesus Christ.”

Addiction was funny like that, Bell thought for the second time that day. 

He tamped down a wry smile, even as the young man tried to hide his sins and move to help with the removal of the body. Luther and Harlowe shared glances reserved for men with sons older than Bell’s own, as they helped the doctors back down the embankment. Pathologists lingered like fruit flies, as the choir of cicadas rose their pitch and volume till they were drowning out all else.

He wasn’t sure how he spotted it. The line of beech trees was nearly a hundred yards away, and the malformation was small. Could be a trick of light. Could be any number of things. Something called him still, some strange feeling wriggling in the back of his mind, like the melody of a familiar, forgotten song. He couldn’t place it. He was sure he’d never felt it before. It felt known to him despite that.

Bell looked beyond the others towards the tree line and began walking. Even a hundred yards away in the meandering windbreak of beech trees, the sound of cicadas was overwhelming. It thrummed in cacophony against the internal music of his soul, and were he asked later, he couldn’t tell anyone what compelled him to walk towards the line of bone-white beech trees sticking awkwardly along the boundaries of the field. Not truthfully. Not without sounding insane.

He could claim the carving was visible, just barely from the creek bed. That the sun had crept in and the lighting had been just right to pique Bell’s curiosity. None of that was true. They’d know that. Or would they ask? If it helped, would anyone care? The grass crunched beneath his feet. The corpses of dead cicadas crunched beneath his feet.

The trees grew closer. 

The marking was carved into the tree and partially covered by the clinging corpse of a southern grass cicada. Bell resisted the urge to brush it to the ground, and instead slipped it into a small plastic bag he’d carried in his pocket. He felt dizzy from the heat. The screams of the insects swarmed into the songs of a calliope, and his mind spun in a tortuous carousel race. Why? He bent down and leaned in close, fingers and eyes searching the bark of the tree.

The marking was a rudimentary drawing of a man, arms and legs splayed out in an X-shape and head a simple circle. Above the head were scratched lines not unlike a crown, and the arms and legs ended in similarly scratched claws.

It made him lightheaded in ways he couldn’t understand. The cicadas pressed in, ever present sonic warfare bombarding whatever sense he had that hadn’t already been overtaken by the oppressive heat. The caul of sweat and the shrieking cries of new life overwhelmed him.

Bell’s vision swam. He vaguely registered the crown of the trees filtering out the haint-blue sky. He felt himself falling, falling, falling, and he tried to reach out, to claw towards the tree, but could find no purchase there.

He fell through the veil. 

[theweirdestroller]

Crime Time!! Identity Theft, But Not Really

I'm back with the criminal AU! More actual crime™️ and a couple of fun references in the beginning because why not? I want to dive head first into this AU, but I also want to keep writing all the fun interactions between Mugsy and Peri rather than bother with anyone else.

'Nother reminder that the criminal AU is brought to you by me! And @cubbihue!!

“This feels illegal...” Peri mumbled as he picked through a couple more cards. “Do I look like a Neal?” He asked, holding up a card from some New Yorker. Mugsy squinted at it before shaking his head.

“Nah. Besides, I’m pretty sure he’s got his own criminal record that I don’t think you’d want to inherit.” Peri tossed the card into the reject pile.

“Why do you have his id?” The fairy combed through a couple more cards, picking out anything too obviously different from himself.

“Gave it to me for some prank on his boss or somethin,” Peri choked on air before Mugsy even finished his sentence.

“How the hell do you have Kermit the Frog’s id?!” Mugsy chuckled at Peri’s bewilderment.

“I ain’t gonna explain that one yet,” Peri stared Mugsy down for a good couple of minutes before returning to the stolen ids.

There was more silence as the pair slowly narrowed down the options. Eye color was a big thing, as Peri’s eyes were an unusual shade of purple in the right light.

“Marcus Wells??” Peri held up a card with a very familiar face on it. Mugsy glanced over Peri’s shoulder at the card.

“Don’t think you could pull that off, sorry buddy,” Peri set the card down.

“I want to ask about this one, but also, no. No I do not.” Mugsy snatched the card.

“You know the guy?” A nod. “I think I got this one at some parascience thing at the Galax Institute. You ever been there?” Peri was still staring at the card.

“Uh. No. Is it far?” The id was set into the reject pile. Mugsy had turned on his phone and was typing something into it.

“According to the map, it’s an hour or so walk away. So, if you wanna check it out, we could go some time,”

“Wait- Are we in Dimmadelphia?!” Peri’s voice took on a bit of a screech. Mugsy set down his phone.

“Yyyess? How did you not know?” The fairy’s face flushed.

“I- Uhhhhh... I was randomly dropped off. Or something...”

“Or something?”

“Don’t- I really don’t know how I should answer that,” Peri hurriedly picked up another id. Mugsy decided to let it slide for now.

The two continued picking through stolen ids. There were only a couple handfuls of cards left, and nothing was close enough to Peri for either of them to pay much attention.

“Maybe we should  just keep an eye out for your doppelganger and steal their id,” Mugsy suggested, leaning back in his chair. “Or go to someone who can make you one,” Peri shrugged and got up, snatching one of the cards as he did so.

“Whichever one you think is easier. I’m gonna turn in for the night,” Peri said, stretching his arms as he walked away.

“‘Night Peri.”

–

It was hours later by the time Peri re-entered the dining room. All the cards had been cleaned up from the table, stashed back in some box in Mugsy’s room.

Peri pulled out his one stolen id and looked at it. Marcus Wells. Hazel’s dad. Peri was still in Dimmadelphia. He could go out and find Dev if he wanted to. Sure, he wasn’t exactly sure where in Dimmadelphia he was, but the fact that he was in the same city had to count for something.

Maybe... Maybe he could just continue whatever it was he was doing for now. And if he came across the others, so be it. Besides, it’s not like he could go home. Not really. Not anymore.

[misguidedasgardian]

The Lifeaters (I.5)

V. Back Home

MASTERLIST

Chapter Summary: You never expecting entering Hogwarts was going to bring you… so much change 

Pairings: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader (platonic)

Warnings: Cursing, magical objects, Mugglephobia, 

Wordcount: 2.1 k

Notes: I’m cutting first year to 8 chapters only… jeje they are just babies yet and like I said, this is for setting the tone for what comes next… jeje

You were fairly smart, you were, the point is, you were truly outstanding in things that TRULY interested you, so you learned when the Slytherin Quidditch team practiced, and you would sit in the boxes no matter how early or how late, scribbling in a small diary you started to call your playbook, writing and describing all the plays, it was quite fun, even Marcus Flint and Terrence Higgs, the players noticed and waved at you

“Are you going to try out next year?”, he asked 

“Of course”, you’d answer happily

And from then on, you became some sort of cheerleader for the team, even helping them in planning plays after the Hufflepuff VS Ravenclaw match that of course you watched and made Draco watch it too.

You were happy, you felt at home in Slytherin and even in potions class

“Who can tell what would happen if I add to the concoction a rat’s tail?”, asked Snape, “Basilik?”, you swallowed hard and looked at home ide eyed

“It would cause a purple colored-explosion?”

“Are you asking me?”, he asked back, annoyed, raising one of his eyebrows. It was the longest seconds of your life, you stammered as Granger raised her hand

“no Ser, i’m saying”, you managed to mumble, and you could swear you saw a hint of a smile on his face

“Indeed”, he said quickly, “5 points for Slytherin, anyways…that is why you must be very carefully in selecting rat’s hair on the back of said rat instead…” and the class continued without a hitch, you and Draco exchanged big smiles at the points given

And the smile couldn’t be wiped out of your face for the rest of the day. No matter how much Matthew teased you, Draco was making everyone laugh telling you how the Gryffindor team was going to replace Potter with a wide-mouthed tree frog.

You always admired Draco’s sense of humor

The days were already shorter, and even started snowing, Snape’s class was in the dungeons and it got really cold down there, so you had to put on your gray jumper under your cape, but you were really happy because, you had been paired up with Theodore for a couple of classes for a special brew, and it made you giggle

Theodore Nott, your housemate, friend of Draco, he was very cute and sweet, he smiled softly at you, he had this beautiful green eyes that look a bit sad but its because they way they are shaped, you and daphne had discuss it at length 

You acted a bit dumb when you were near him, but you thought Snape had paired you both together because you could defend yourself pretty good in Potions, but he was useless in that subject, you had to carry it for four weeks, but you were happy to do so.

Now you were in the common room with Theo, you weren’t allowed in the laboratory after classes, so, the only place you could hang out and study properly, besides the library, but they didn’t let you bring potion making instruments… So here you were.

“It’s ¾”, you said softly, “not 3,4”

“Oh sorry”, he muttered, you only smiled, knowing that little error could make the potion exude a lethal smoke that would kill you both

“You still on that?”, the peace and nice atmosphere that you had created was eliminated by barely a sentence of Draco, who showed up accompanied by his own partner, Matthew

You could see Theo’s face twisting in discomfort

“We just hadn't had the time”, you said simply

“We finished days ago”, they didn’t leave, they just sat there in the leather couch next to the table that you were working on 

You finished the best you could, feeling like you were being watched, and you had to use the loo so you left them to go to the bathroom

When you came back, you heard them

“I don’t know why she keeps insisting on the potion, maybe she fancies me”, muttered Theo, “and that’s why we keep working together”, and that broke your little heart. Draco frowned at this, without noticing you

“She doesn’t fancy you”, he said, with a disgusted face, and you had never been more grateful, especially with Matthew laughed at Theo

You pretended like everything was fine, you tried to ignore Theo’s guilty face, he was embarrassed, it was him that didn’t understand potions, but he was embarrassed to say so, and then, you were relieved that Draco stayed there with you.

“So, if I make this potion wrong it can explode?”, muttered Gaunt as he read your scribbles in the parchment, “interesting”

“No it's not”, you said quickly, “many potions could explode”, you said then quickly, Mathew and Theo exchanged looks that didn’t promise anything good.

They actually made the potion explode, underneath Filch’s desk, luckily he wasn’t there but Mrs Norris’ tail caught on fire that thankfully they were able to extinguish without much damage to the poor cat.

You found it horrible

But Matthew and Theo laughed 

You loved cats, and even though her being there was a sad accident, you couldn’t shake the bad feeling of your gut.

Matthew was a bit mean, and when you remembered him bringing the pumpkin to life… before he started carving it, it brought you chills.

Professor Snape was called, and Slytherin was taken 50 points.

When you were alone with Theo, he kept being nice to you, and the last class that you needed to work together, he ripped the page of the potion off of his book, and he folded you a snowflake with magic

You felt so happy you became giddy, even though he had lied to your friends 

As the weeks went by, the floor started to become white, as the snow started to stick 

But snow would only mean one thing… that you were most excited about

Christmas

Christmas is coming!

Between classes, and making friends, days turn into weeks and even months, and you were barely realizing it, Christmas was around the corner.

Every year you spend Christmas Eve with your Aunt, and then the next day you were invited to the Manor to spend the day with the Malfoys and their friends until the evening where you attend their annual Christmas Ball, it was always breathtaking, witches and wizards in their best dress robes ni black, white or red, and the decoration and food was out of this world

And this year, according to your aunt, it was going to be no different, you had three weeks of christmas break to go home, and you were going to spend it with Draco, the Malfoys and your aunt

You packed your trunk religiously, and even Umbra hooted in her cage happily, like she knew she was going back home

None of your teachers had left any homework, unless of course Professor Snape, who had given you a list of items you could find to make potions, so you needed to fetch them from your house or garden, he assured you they were things that could be easily found, trying to prove that potions could be brewed from almost anything

Anyways

You found Blaise in the great hall, he was staying at Hogwarts for the Holidays

“My mother is spending christmas in Greece with her new husband”, he muttered sadly

“I’m sorry Blaise”

“Other people are staying, so it's fine”, you had to go, Draco, from the other side of the Hall, was waving at you to go 

The train ride back to London was very pleasant, Draco couldn’t stop boasting about his list of presents and how he was sure he was going to get everything he wanted, he asked you about what was in yours, but you only had three items… a Nimbus 3000, Quidditch riding gear of the Holyhead Harpies and a dragon

You knew you were being silly, but you always wanted a Dragon, a small one would suffice, you had seen them, miniature versions of real dragons, that you could handle. 

And you promised your aunt that you could sell your current broom, a Quicksilver 2.0, so you wouldn’t have two, you were hopeful, you had been saving from your allowance, but still, professional brooms such as those had to be purchased by an adult 

So you were now even more hopeful, but you were surprised to discover actually Matthew was going to spend Christmass in the Malfoy Manor as well

When you’d ask Draco about his family, he would answered with evasives, probably he didn’t know who he was either

But still you found it odd

You forgot about personal compartments, your group of friends had gotten so big you preferred those open ones with tables on both sides so you could all speak to each other

You had gotten accustomed to being around them all day and even nights, it was going to be a bit sad when you got home, only you, your aunt and some house-elves.

“Are you going to the ball?”, you asked Pansy who was sitting right next to you, as you were seated on the other side of the aisle with the girls

“Yes, my parents were invited”, she muttered

“Mines too”, muttered Daphne

“It will be fun”, you said with a big smile

“Why are you and Draco so close?”, asked Milicent as she leaned in and whispered to you

“We are best friends”, you said softly

“But why?”, she insisted

“We know each other since I can remember, our parents are really close”

“Do you like him?”, she teased

“No”, you answered quickly, “he is my best friend”, all girls were looking straight at you, like they were cornering you, “for real”, you insisted, and that seemed to calm them as they giggle

“I think Theo is really cute, you were so lucky to had that huge project with him”, fanned over Daphne

“I think Matthew is cute”, added Milicent, you were leaning over the table and whispering, so they wouldn’t hear

“I don’t think any of them are”, you said with a sad voice, thinking of Theo

“My mom is having my robes custom made for me”, said Daphne with a soft smile, “for the Christmass ball”

“Really? how lucky! I think we are just going to Madam Malkin”, muttered Pansy

“Lucky you because my mother loves to shop in those muggle stores in central London”, said Milicent

“Some of those stores are nice”, you offered, you really liked muggle fashion sometimes, your aunt would take you in London and you were only able to watch at the showcases, some dresses were truly astonishing

“They are muggles”, she said as that was reason enough

The trip became longer than the one that goes to Hogwarts, it that made any sense

Now that you weren’t at Hogwarts, you wanted to get home already.

“Anything from the trolley?”, asked the sweet old lady, bringing her cart full of sweets

“Uh! me! Do you have any chocolate frogs?”, you asked

“Of course dear”, she said, passing one you exchange for a couple of Sickles

“Thank you”, the boys bought thighs to, you frowned when you looked at the frog, the spell not starting yet

“I’ll do it”, said Draco from the other side, you passed the package, he opened and the frog came to life, before it could jump, he snapped one if its legs to break the spell, not it was just chocolate

He passed it back to you

“Thank you”, he ate the chocolate leg and you ate the rest

“Why?”, asked Parkinson

“I don’t like it when they move, they look too real”, you said simply, “Uh! I got Cirse! I’d always wanted her!”, you admired the ancient witch in that card

Your aunt, as always, was waiting for you

She hugged you tightly, caressing your hair softly, you had missed her 

“Let’s go home”, you greeted the Malfoys, and from afar you could see Theodore, who was being received by an old man, you guessed he was his father.

“We will see you at Christmas”, my aunt muttered, and you started walking. Meek, your house elf appeared, grabbed both your hands, as you had your things in the other hand, and he apparated you back home, as easy as that 

Tea was served for the two of you, with your favorite small sandwiches and pastries

“Now, you will tell me EVERYTHING!”, she said with a wide smile 

[bonefall]

I think jayfeather would absolutely love skyclan. they steal from twolegs. they’re innovative. their leader kicked out a guy that was causing problems with no hesitation, didn’t even consider keeping him around to see if he continued. i feel like they’d have a morbid sense of humor, like shadowclan. they’re also the kind of clan to have a garden, let’s be honest. theyre also the kind of clan to not care if you’re blind or deaf or have a bad limp, you can still hunt or fight or make sure cats are actually doing their jobs, you’re more than capable of being a warrior! plus, they don’t even care if their medicine cat has a mate or kits. it’s a stupid rule just let them live. also strike me as the kind of cats to not take shit from starclan. starclan let them be kicked out, starclan didn’t do anything to help them, starclan may be powerful but so are they

Jayfeather and SkyClan when a StarClan warrior comes down to 'advise' them to lay down and die

[image id: Meme of awkward party staring at the camera]

I really like SkyClan as cats who really don't buy into the same Battle Culture that the Forest Clans do. Their culture is heavily influenced by cats who have been taking advantage of humans for a few generations.

So to the other four, SkyClan can seem almost alien. They're constantly appropriating things from humans, their curiosity will lead them right into towns, they have an otherworldly understanding of vehicles and have unique words for different types (bike, car, and truck).

Their humor though? I don't see it as particularly morbid, to be honest. ShadowClan's is dour and unsettling for living in a harsh environment, and because the other Clans have seen them as 'weird' for eating frogs and leeches. Stuff like that.

SkyClan has revived in peace and mainly has housecat inspiration, I see their humor as a lot more based on absurdity and politeness. Misunderstandings and breakdowns in communication.

It's very... British.

I do imagine they ARE quite pious though, but not the way the main clans are. They believe strongly in THEIR ancestors, the ones who had followed them into exile. Thing is that their own ancestors have a much older idea of the Warrior Code.

It would have 9 Commandments, actually, as opposed to the Pre-Lake Forest Clan's 14.

The Medcat's Vow being corrupted and codified into law happened in response to SkyClan leaving; so it tracks that SkyClan doesn't have it. If anything, they prefer if their Medcat HAS raised kittens because that means they are attached to SkyClan, and not the temptations of kittypet life.

So, yeah, Jayfeather and SkyClan would get along swimmingly.

They both have issues with the Forest Clan concept of StarClan and he would probably make some really good friends he can argue it with.

And last note-- he would ESPECIALLY enjoy that SkyClan culture would be "chatty." Since they're descended from kittypets who were communicating with humans (meowing, hissing, yowling), their 'dialect' would be more vocal than the other four Clans.

[impishglee]

i had a dream last night i was taking a chinese class and the game the teacher had us play is she gave us each three little cards with different random things on it and we had to try and say them in chinese in any way we could and the cards i got were

- rice

- frog

- something i can’t remember and in the dream didn’t know how to say.

and so for rice i say “chaufa” which, is how you say fried rice in peruvian spanish, which is derived from the chinese way to say fried rice (chaofan) and the teacher was like. nice try! good effort!

and for frog, i kept wanting to say rana, even though i knew Full Well that was spanish, and i fully didn’t know the mandarin word for frog, so instead i thought id be clever and just say the frog was my friend, so i said the frog was “chingu” which. is korean. 🙂‍↕️

apparently the word for frog is “qingwa” or just “wa”

so great work subconscious. you managed to recollect several words that were not in your first language and somehow still did not come up with a word of chinese. godbless

[lichen-punk]

1, 3, 9, 20, 25, 27, 28, 39, 45, 47 SORRY THIS IS SO MANY LOLL

o my goodness ok im putting a cut here for everyone's sanity cause all these questions got me excited

Do you have a favorite place near you to “touch grass”?

theres a little woodsy park near my house just within easy walking distance which is easy to get into regardless of time of day or night and has an incredible hill where you can sit under an oak tree in the tall grass and watch the sun or the moon come up or set depending on time of day and year and i love love love it one of the only good things about my town i go up there for my Rituals And Things gkjhsf

3. If you could see any extinct species in the wild, what would it be?

im a sucker for megafauna id love to see an irish elk or an aurochs or a woolly mammoth that would be so so cool

9. Do you have a favorite nature photo you’ve ever taken?

here's some of the best photos ive ever taken in my life, and then some pictures from the hike back to the cabin when we realized the sun was setting sooner than we thought it would and it was about to get WAY too cold for how we were dressed

20. What’s your favorite poem or song lyric about nature?

definitely a gerard manley hopkins!!! he's my fave poet ever and half his work is about nature. i'm torn between two, tho: i think my favorite of all time, really my favorite poem entirely, is the windhover (ive been trying to copy and paste it here without ruining the formatting but it is not working alas so you must google it sorry), but the last stanza of another of my favorites of his poems, inversnaid, is also just. fucking killer

What would the world be, once bereft Of wet and of wildness? Let them be left, O let them be left, wildness and wet; Long live the weeds and the wilderness yet.

25. What’s your favorite plant to grow yourself?

i unfortunately live in a terrible spot to grow stuff, the yard of my family's little house is like. straight dry clay and entirely shady, so my thumb has never gotten even the barest hint of green to it. one day id like to grow wheat or corn or some such tho

27. What’s your favorite outdoor activity?

honestly????? i love to just Sit And Observe. i used to love love love swimming in creeks and lakes and things, but obv i havent swum in anything for a very long time. hopefully i will again one dayy im also a big big fan of a fire for singing around. and to be honest shakespeare doesnt feel right unless its performed somewhere outdoors and beautiful now

28. What’s your favorite local animal you see all the time but still love?

ALL OF THEMMMMMM we get raccoons and possums and squirrels and mule deer and black tailed deer and crows and ravens and pigeons and rats and mice and apparently frogs i learned recently and newts and theyre all my best friends and i get so excited when i see them

39. What ecosystem do you consider your “home” ecosystem?

absolutely all american pacific northwest shit i love a temperate rainforest with redwoods and doug firs and such and then the deciduous layer underneath all ferns and moss and little creeks and then the harsh cliffs down to the beach all cold and foggy and windy. that's where i Belong easy peasy. i do also associate the more aggressively californian Beige Grassy Hills With Lonely Scrappy Little Coast Live Oaks or Valley Oaks On Top type biome with home and growing up, but its always been a little too harsh and dry and sunny for me here.

45. What is your favorite wildflower?

o god thats hard i love wildflowers. im a sucker for daisies, obv, and i love forget-me-nots and california poppies and indian paintbrush and columbine and and and

47. What is your favorite species of tree?

o no thats hard too!!!!! ummm probably oak trees, especially white oaks like the valley oak or the oregon white oak, especially the really big old wise looking ones, but i also adore sequoioideae and other conifers, unsurprisingly, and rowans and apple trees among others hold personal spiritual significance, and theres this specific kind of maple or sweetgum idk what it is but they grew outside the theatre i grew up in so they always make me nostalgic. OH and i LOVE the smell of california bay laurel thats the Good Summertime Smell for me

[m0e-ru]

hi ive been binging your blog a lot recently. i rlly adore the sheer effort you've given to these dumbass fucking characters that otherwise get such little people even attempting to appreciate or engage with them beyond very shallow depths. as someone who only really got into the p4 games relatively recently (2022. my only remembered experience with the series beforehand was like a couple episodes of the the p4anim years ago and playing p5 in 2016/2017) and kind of being shell-shocked by how characters like marie and teddie and namatame were perceived by the overall fanbase once i started engaging with it more i really appreciate all the writing and analysis and art and other shit you do for them. even the gas station attendant, a character i overlooked initially, i've come to love because of all the time and energy you put into picking them apart like a dead frog in a science class

uh yea idfk i feel generally vindicated by seeing the way you characterize these bitches. especially marie as someone who felt like a lot of her interesting aspects were evaporated by the fandom (somewhat because of p4ga i feel but but still) and wanted to see more silly fanart of her (and shumarie/soumarie/whatecvrer the fuck that wasn't just kind of surface level romance becuz i rlly do love their dynamic w how i see bancho in my head. idiots who dont know how to properly express themselves w one repressing themselves to adopt a likable persona and the other unable to shut the fuck up much to their own detriment. im not gonna get over that fucking "marie makes everyday sunny for him" post ever i think) so uh keep on keeping on and ill continue to like your posts and something

anyway dumb stupid cringe fucking rant over. i apologize if i come off like a loser i dont use this website and idk the general tumblr etiquette. im pretty sure shit like this shouldnt even go here but . dont need to respond to this i just wanted to yell into the void cuz i appreciate this account. rest of this will just be panels of marie and teddie and bancho from some of the p4g anthologies i own that i wanted to share in the off chance that you also dont already own said anthologies n have seen them befor. these r only from the last ID antho and the dengeki one because those r the only 2 i have proper pictures of

hai i read this ages ago and i wanna get back to it by saying youre so awesome possum forever and ever dont worry about your ettiquette because getting 3 essay worthy paragraphs of you talking is basically everyone ive met in the tumblr nation

another thing i remember is that a bestie also loved your offerings esp the last one because those two look so lalala AUAHUAHA okay i should answer this ask properly now that i have the time 🏃🏃🏃🏃

can we give it up for the bingers and blog skimmers !?!?!?! you guys are such an interesting breed i remember trying to do that in 2018 i can already recall the thrill going through my blood im so honored to see people doing that and moreso coming to me to tell me about it WAHAUHAHA 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶

this gas station (blog) really is catered to the niche market of all time also because the way my brain is wired to just go in the dustiest nooks and corners of a community and thrive and live there. i AM the bug you see when you lift up the rock . hai . i'll do anything for these poor poor characters being tossed around like hot potato with people who dont bother understanding thing or even try to pick them up at all. also im getting such a kick every time someone tells me i got them into appreciating the attendant or even iznmi more OR in a different way. thats why im here bros . me when i do my JOB !!!! 🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳

the way fandom handles shipping has always irked me because theres just SO much you can do with two characters than just make them hold hands. what if there was blood invovled, you know . /starts pacing around the room / you know im glad you know the know it's so cool you know /shaking you/ im glad i have a post that's affected you so much like i thought it was just a silly caption at the time and seeing it after 2 or 3 years is like "YEAHH i cooked this " and im glad you brought it to me hehehe

i hope this gas station brings you joy and you keep coming back for more etc etc and please know i really am happy to see you around in whatever branch you show up at 🫡🫡🫡 /explordes

[ghostlysenses]

I was wondering if you could do a part 2 to the waiting fanfic cause I just read it and I neeeeeed quackity and tommy to go and confront Karl and Sapnap cause I feel like that would be sad and angsty at the same time

if you don’t want to that’s fine but I really just need to know what would happen

😘💕

oh?! Id love tooo!!

Why weren’t you there!!!

Tw: Angst, Confrontation, go read part 1

Quackity abruptly stood up, tears still streaming down his face, fists balled up in anger “I need to find them tommy…”

Tommy looked up at him, he had no idea what to say

“do you uhh, want me to come with…?”

Quackity had thought about it, he doesn’t think tommy can help with this, its a family matter after all, so instead he said

“How about you stay here, gather all of her things and take them back to Los Nevada”

Tommy nods, and with that Quackity leaves

It took him awhile to find them both, but eventually he found it

Kinoko Kingdom

and looked over it with rage

it filled him head to toe

~~~Meanwhile, with Tommy~~~

Tommy had first removed your corpse and had buried it right next to your Papas house

He then went back and looked through your room

He found old photos

he doesn’t think this family will ever look that happy again.

He starts putting things in boxes, well whatever isn’t overgrown by nature

~~~~Back to Papa!~~~~

As Quackity stepped up to them, looking like he was ready to kill, sapnap and karl stared back

“Quackity? what are you doing here” Sapnap

“Did you forget something?” Quackity asks

Both of his ex lovers stare in confusion

as he takes out a frog key

“Do you know what this is?! DONT YOU BOTH HAVE ONE?!” He shouts, with so much anger his voice is a little raspy

As Karl stares in confusion

Sapnaps eyes

SNAP!

wide open

he did forget something….someone….very important

~~Tommy!~~

He found a small picture book

You on Karls shoulders, hands up in the air!

It seemed like you were all at the beach, sunny aspect, ur hair was up in pigtails, and well the bath suit all might be dead give aways

Another photo hand you grabbing onto Quackity and pointing to a duck, ironic.

he can imagine you yelling QUACK!!! QUACK!!!

at your papa.

The next page had one of you and sapnap, u were running away with his headband. It looked like he was just about to grab you too!

He turned the next page but some was covered by moss, he tried to recover what he could but

man can’t beat nature

He set it down in the box, and went to the record player.

~~Fathers~~

“We..forgot someone?” Karl says tilting his head, quackity glared at him. When sapnap was snapped back to reality he finally spoke

“Oh my god…how lo-“

“a long time, to long, even after death she….she stayed and waited…”

Sapnap pulled out his key, they always had it in their pockets…how could they forget someone so important, their own child ffs!!

He walks over to quackity and tries to hand it to him

but he refuses

“Quackity just take it, we forgot her, we dont dese-“

“You have just as a right to be upset as I do, but y/n would not want you to wallow like this, She doesn’t blame you….I think she just wanted to see someone one more time.” He pushed the key back to him

Sapnap stared at him, tears in his eyes

Quackity smiled….

W

H

A

M

Quackity looked at his fist, bloody from Sapnaps now bloody nose.

As Sapnap landed on his back

Quackity bent down and grabbed the key “But I do blame you” he spits at him, with venom lacing his tongue.

He walked away

leaving a sad and angry sapnap

and a very confused and worried Karl

~~~~With tommy!!~~~~

Tommy had just about finished up packing up everything.

It was nearing sunset.

He set down one last empty box (He brings them back and forth) and heads over to your bed.

He’s packing pillows, blankets, and some plushies.

He sees that some look familiar, he thinks he’s seen you walking around with these.

They were like comfort items.

He doesnt want these getting into dreams hands, or any of your stuff…that could damage Quackity really bad.

He’ll have to tell Quackity to hide it all..

Once he’s done packing he looks around and suddenly…

the room seems

L

i

g

h

t

e

r

Like a weight has been lifted, or a tension is now gone.

He feels better too, he doesnt know how to explain it but it feels good.

Happiness?

Relief?

…..

Closure..?

Either way-

He sighs with content before grabbing the box and heading outside

he turns and takes one final look at the house

and to be honest

he likes to think

y/n felt, whatever he did, too…