#anyways yeah! monkshood

[yrlocalghost]

MONKSHOOD or WOLFSBANE, which is arguably one of the most poisonous plants around, is related to buttercups

[lizadale]

Inspired by your recent post- I can see dimentio giving luigi an insult bouquet because oooh ancient flower meanings! But Luigi doesn't look into it because "awww he got me flowers! It's an obscene gesture that he would never do..." and then he's like "OH... its an obscene gesture he would never do..." *cut to Luigi rapidly researching the meaning behind all the flowers dimentio got him in that bouquet* While dimentio cackles in the corner since he would ONLY buy the flowers since they had some back alley meaning like "fuck you, I'll kill you" but also the age old "I love you anyway" XD

(I'm so sorry this is so long)

HE WOULD

Dimentio would totally give Luigi a shoddy bouquet of like monkshood, black roses, and butterfly weed, and then buried in the middle nearly out of sight are the positive "i love you" flowers that you have to hunt for. Luigi would be over the moon about getting flowers but, yeah, the more he thinks about it the more suspicious it seems, but that's when he sees the honeysuckle or gentian peeking up from the bottom of the wrap and he relaxes, because really Dimentio just gives flowers the same way he expresses anything else :P

[googleitlol]

Hi! I’m SO sorry for blowing up your inbox lol- but I’m thinking about those song covers I wanna do and wanna lean into flowers meanings since I think they’re supposed to be a big part of PoM? Or maybe it was just that arc, idk.

But yeah I’m currently thinking about what flowers I should add for which song lmao. For I won’t say I’m in love I’m thinking of Dove with a black rose? Which means forbidden love, since I think that’s the main reason why she’s in denial about her feelings. (That’s what I got from all of your answers anyway)

And then there’s songs like Evermore. I love its showcasing of Doves and Wukong’s dynamic and wanted to show Dove leaving the frame with Wukong sitting with flowers that symbolize dove. (“Now I know she’ll never leave me, even as she runs away”) and I was wondering was flower you think would symbolize dove? I just don’t want to get anything wrong! It’s completely okay if you don’t know though! I don’t want you to feel forced to go down a rabbit hole of flower langue just because of my silly questions.

But if you do by chance know a bit of flower language (I’m just guessing that you do with how much flowers show up, but again, if you don’t, feel free to chuck this ask into the void lmao) do you also know what flower would symbolize Wukong from the perspective of dove? Wanna incorporate that in the Never Knew I Needed one.

Also, (again, SO sorry for ranting, I think I just like talking lmao) for Just The Way You Are I want to show flowers that mean Wukongs love for her. So I’m thinking of a flower (I forgot the name lol) that means protection? Just because that seems like how Wukong shows his love, even when he doesn’t realize his feelings for her. But if you think his love language would be something different, please feel free to tell me!

Okay, I’m sorry for ranting (and all of those typos this probably has) I don’t think I get to talk about all of my self shipping nonsense with a lot of people and I’m just excited lol, feel free to just ignore this!!! <3

Hi! Don't ever apologise abt being in my inbox. I love getting to talk, I'm a certified yapper lol

I love the idea of using flower symbolism! I really wanted to lean into it for the Dovesbane arc (Wolfsbane is another name for monkshood *corny eyebrow wiggling*) because of the connection to Dove's old friend and everything his dad would tell him. But tbh I just love flower language in general, especially how different plants can have different meanings in various cultures. So I'll definitely lean into it more, just not as much as I did in that arc.

A flower I think that would represent Dove well are Althea's (hibiscus syriacus, there's a few flowers that are called similar names), they're also called Rose of Sharon. They're a resilient flower that not only represent love in many places around the world, but also healing.

Also, this. It's quite literally used in a way Dove uses her own powers.

As for symbolising Wukong from Dove's pov? I'd go with marigolds. Not just because they've been nicknamed the herb of the sun (teeheehee) but also because they have a vast range of symbolism to them. They're often associated with life and death (ironic because of Wukong's immortality) but can also represent two things Dove really admires about Wukong: creativity and passion. After all, he is known for both his cunning and impulsiveness.

Flowers to symbolise Wukong's love for Dove? There's a few that come to mind. Anemones can mean a whole lot of things based on their colour, like protection, anticipation, and love. I also think about carnations when it comes to their love as well, but more specifically pale red carnations. Not pink, and even though red itself represents affection and a deep love, pale red carnations are given to others as a way to say, "My heart aches for you" which is just 🥺

As a little bonus, I'll also throw in the acacia blossom. They often represent concealed love, which I think sums up Dove and Wukong for a chunk of their story. Even when Dove does realise her feelings, she has this huge crisis and struggles with her emotions. Some days she may feel like giving into them, other days she wishes those feelings didn't exist at all and tries to hide them as best she can. Girl really just needs to accept the fact that she loves him already 🙄

[normaltothemax]

Jake scowled, swallowing down the rage that threatened to bubble up inside of him again. Fucking pieces of shit. Couldn't even do him the dignity of facing him like men. "If it helps, they're all dead now," he growled. The girl whimpered, prompting him to rub her back with his free hand in a way he hoped was reassuring, murmuring, "'s okay, sweetheart, you're safe now."

His brow furrowed. "Cab's a couple'a blocks away, but I can bring it 'round." Why did he... His stomach plummeted. Monkshood. That really wasn't good. Following Manny out of the bathroom, he stayed close, ready to try and catch him if he did lose his balance. "How long y' think we got?"

He'd been planning on a stop to the ER anyways. The kid needed to be checked out by someone that knew what they were looking for, not him—not that he would've said no otherwise, it was Manny. Jake couldn't say no to him.

"Can you even go t' the hospital? With your...biology?" How had that never come up? Speaking of... "Ay, chica," he gave her the smallest jostle so she knew he was talking to her, "I need t' know whatcha are. Need t' know if we're gonna have a problem with doctors."

"'m not s'posed to say," a muffled little voice replied.

"Ah, c'mon, you can tell us. Who 'm I gonna tell? And Manny, here? He's a detective." Jake wasn't sure if he should be spreading around the whole werewolf thing, so he kept that to himself. "So y' know he's safe."

For a moment, he thought she wasn't going to answer. It wasn't until they got outside that he heard a quiet, hesitant, "Seelie." Which, shit, he didn't know jack about that.

He grabbed Manny's arm to stop him, set the little girl down on the grass. "Alright, you two stay put." He pointed at the werewolf. "I mean it, this time. 'm gonna go get the car. It'll be faster, that way." Considering he could fly in the suit on his own, rather than walking there with the two of them, and time was limited here? Yeah, this was the best plan, in his opinion. "Don't know if you know shit 'bout seelies, but 'm gonna need t' know if I can have a doctor look at her." Hopefully Manny could find that out, if he didn't already know.

Not giving the other man the chance to protest, he let the mask hide his face, once more, hood coming back up, before he leapt into the air, cape billowing out around him.

The door prickled his ears, but he hardly bothered to look up from his current position hunched over the sink. Probably not the most ideal of reactions or situations, but at least the familiar scent of Jake hit him first before anything else so… no need to react accordingly.

Not that Manny was sure he could do anything more than the thumbs up he was currently giving the guy.

“Currently wishing I was dead.” A dry little response, hand still running along the back of his neck as if he was looking for something—though feeling the divot in skin and the sting at the back? Oh… oh, now suddenly he remembered. “Assholes fucking darted me.”

Well, at least that explained why he could now somewhat remember a fire ant bite out of nowhere while walking home.

The ragged feeling of trying to breathe wasn’t getting any better, but at least the cold sweat was stopping. Maybe. So that left him with… three hours? Four? Though looking at himself in the mirror, Manny figured it probably wasn’t smart to guess around this time.

“There a car out front?”

God, he was hoping so, hardly paying much mind and half stumbling his way out. “Needa—get t’ the ER—‘fore I actually do die—” And trip over a body or two, which luckily he somehow neatly avoided. “Monkshood. Needa go. Now.”

[sehnsuchts-trunken]

Dearest Mary,

may I please request something where Riven and the reader study together with the others while being adorable?

OMG YES NO ONE HAS EVER REQUESTED THIS IN ANY WAY SHAPE OR FORM AND I AM LOVING IT LEIA

a/n: completely ignored the "with the others while being adorable" part btw. also I got sidetracked halfway

"No, Hemlock's flowers bloom white", you corrected, pointing at the line in your book where it said exactly that. "Belladonna is purple."

Riven leaned back with crossed arms.

"I don't get why we even need to learn this", he complained, not for the first time today. You rolled your eyes at him.

"At least for you everything that's not failing is fine."

While you needed to do better than just pass.

He breathed out and leaned forward again to pour over the book once more. You waited for him to say something else, but he didn't.

"Why does Aconite need to have so many other names?", he groaned after a minute. A little grin tugged at your lips. This, finally, was something you were good at.

"Monkshood, wolfsbane, women's bane, devil's helmet, queen of poisons, blue rocket", you rattled off. Riven raised his eyebrows.

"You forgot leopards bane and mousebane", he chuckled.

"Shh", you laughed, putting your finger to his lips. "Those names suck, we're ignoring them."

He kept silent as you grinned at him, waiting until you had pulled back your finger.

"So you're the name police?", he asked. You just rolled your eyes at him once again. Why did studying with him always have to be such a damn experience?

"What about my name then?"

"No, I mean, I-", you interrupted yourself mid sentence. "Wait, what?"

He smirked. God, how you hated it, the way he always felt so superior when he got you confused or flushed. Not that he didn't look attractive as fuck when he grinned, but-

"What about my name then?", he repeated.

For a second, you stayed silent. What about his name, what the fuck? What did he want from you?

"Well...", you started, then trailed off again. What were you even going to say? "Your name. It suits you, to be honest. It does. Don't know what it means though."

He grabbed your hand as you talked, bringing it to his lips to press a kiss to the back of it. You swallowed hard. First that smirk, now this? He really wanted to get you distracted from studying today.

"And what do you think of it?", he muttered, softly, against the skin of your hand, now gently kissing your palm.

"Me?", you whispered, watching him, your mouth falling open all on its own. "I..."

He'd now reached your wrist, right where your pulse was. You swallowed again.

"You?", he chuckled.

"Just kiss me and I swear I won't make you study any more today", you breathed, begging, almost. You didn't feel like studying anyway. For the exams you had done enough, this revision was only for Riven, and he was never one for revising.

But he didn't kiss you. Not right then, at least. He just raised his head and his eyebrows and looked at you.

You sighed.

"I love your name, Riven. You know that. I love saying it and I love hearing it and I love" - you were leaning closer to him with every word you said - "I love, love, love being able to shorten it. Happy?"

He grinned.

"Very", he agreed, finally closing the distance between the two of you and kissing you deeply.

Yeah, studying was done for the day.

[nagasakidivision]

Drama Track: Double Effect 2-1

And here we finally go. :partying_face: This one ran really long so there's a nonzero chance going by my outline this will only be two parts lmao

ANYWAYS. Here's where the plot kicks off a bit more, including something I've been waiting to reveal since I started this blog.

(A man sits at a table. Several underlings surround him. They talk in soft murmurs before the door slams open.)

[Underling]: Boss!

[Tomabechi]: What is it? You know better than to interrupt a meeting—

[Underling]: No. No, this is important. This just got dropped off at the door.

(Tomabechi grumbles angrily and snatches an envelope out of the man’s hand. There’s a rustle of papers as he pulls out a letter and reads it off.)

[Tomabechi]: …For I come not to bring peace, but a sword.

(Something else falls to the ground. He kneels to pick it up.)

[Tomabechi]: Monkshood. And a calla lily.

(The paper crumples in his hand.)

[Tomabechi]: It’s Gabriel. Step up security around all of our holdings. Shake down anyone we’ve been doing business with to see if someone’s approached them with…untoward questions lately.

[Underlings]: Yes, boss.

[Tomabechi]: If that goddamn thief thinks he’s gonna make a fool of me, he’s got another thing coming.

-----------------------

[Haruto:] Shirou? Hey, Shirou!

(The only response from Shirou is soft breathing, about one step removed from snoring.)

[Damien]: Jeez. He’s really out of it. C’mon man, we’re burning daylight here.

[Shirou]: …Huh?

(Fabric rustling as he sits upright.)

[Haruto:] Job’s running you ragged, huh.

[Shirou]: Well, people aren’t dying any less. So yes.

[Haruto]: Yeah, but…falling asleep on a subway? When was the last time you slept?

[Shirou]: Last night.

[Haruto]: Okay. How many hours?

[Shirou]: …Two before I was called in.

[Haruto, sighing in frustration]: Shirou…

[Shirou]: I can sleep in the hotel.

[Damien]: Well, you can but we were hoping to get in some practice before the next round tomorrow.

[Shirou]: I’ll just need a few hours. You two can spar against each other until I’m awake.

[Haruto]: Alright. Just promise you’ll at least try to get a full night’s sleep before we go on the field.

[Shirou]: I’ll do fine in our matches.

[Haruto]: This isn’t about the DRB. I’m worried about you.

(There’s a few moments of silence.)

[Damien]: Well, look at it this way. You’ve finally got something like a vacation—well, I guess a working vacation, right? So enjoy it! Relax a little. Win or lose, we should all have a night on the town.

[Shirou]: I’d…like that, actually.

[Damien]: There ya go. It’s a deal, then.

[Haruto]: Ah, there’s our stop. C’mon, we’ll figure out what to do on the way.

---------------------------------

(Hard cut to a hotel room. Shirou can be heard breathing softly in the background.)

[Haruto]: Well, that didn’t take long.

[Damien]: Jeez. Is he usually that bad off?

[Haruto]: More or less, yeah. Ever since he started working as a mortician, he’s been dead on his feet. And it’s gotten worse in the past couple years.

 [Haruto]: …Maybe this is a good time to pick his brain a little.

[Haruto]: So…not to pry, but how have you not noticed? I mean, he does try to hide it but it’s kind of obvious. How long have you guys been talking?

[Damien]: Depends on how you wanna define it. We’ve been communicating for about a year, but actual in-person stuff? Not until a few months ago when it was safe for me to bail.

[Haruto]: …Bail? From the company? He said you were a whistleblower.

[Damien]: You got it. I’ve been building my case for a while. I needed to make sure I could get as much evidence as possible and then make sure I wasn’t around before I could drop any information.

[Haruto]: Wouldn’t that cast suspicion on you when we go public, though?

[Damien]: What, you think Damien is my given name? It’s not. (pause) Well, in a sense, I gave it to myself. Point is, I’ve been planning this for a while. I don’t think I need to tell you at this point, but Solaris is seriously bad news, man. Corrupt from top to bottom.

[Haruto]: Well, yeah, I figured that. Why’d you even work for them, then?

[Damien]: …Look, they don’t really advertise that shit. And I was young and stupid, and didn’t see the warning signs. Better late than never to turn it around, right?

[Haruto]: Yeah. Uh, sorry. I’m not trying to doubt you, everything seems legit, but…

[Damien]: Nah. Don’t worry about it. I’m a guy who has a few things to keep secret, I know I look suspicious, but trust me. I want to see Solaris go down just as bad as you and Shirou do.

[Haruto]: …We’ll see about that.

-------------------------

(A slight shifting noise as Shirou moves the sheets off himself.)

[Haruto]: Oh, hey. You’re finally up. Damien said he was going out for a bit.

[Shirou]: The sun’s down. How long was I…?

[Haruto]: It’s about midnight, so…around eight hours?

(Shirou snaps upright.)

[Shirou]: I’m—I’m incredibly sorry.

[Haruto]: Don’t sweat it. You obviously needed it, you’ll need to be at your best for the preliminaries tomorrow. Or, uh, today now, I guess.

[Shirou]: But we needed the practice.

[Haruto]: Yeah, me and Damien did. You’re the most experienced. Besides, you’re the one who’s been practicing nonstop for the past few months.

(A lengthy pause.)

[Haruto]: Look, both of us can tell you’re running on fumes right now. Damien’s right. You need to take a break. If you’re not working, you’re practicing, and if you’re not practicing or working, you’re trying to find leads. You don’t sleep best I can tell. You’re going to work yourself to death at this rate.

[Shirou]: …I know. It’s just for now, though. Once we can put the case to rest, I’ll take a break.

[Haruto]: Look, the two of us are here to help, right? Why are you pushing yourself this hard? It wouldn’t kill you to ask for help.

[Shirou]: You believe there’s good and evil, don’t you?

[Haruto]: Well…yeah. Most of my papers have been arguing for deontology as the only justifiable moral framework. (pause) Hey, don’t change the subject—

[Shirou]: It’ll just take a moment. Let me ask you a philosophical question, then. What do you think makes an action evil enough it’s unforgivable? Hypothetically—something you could only atone for by spending your life making up for it?

[Haruto]: That’s…really broad. You know I don’t believe in categorical imperatives, right? You can’t call any single category of action good or evil. It’s more complex than that, there’s a lot of innate paradox in life. We’re living in a fundamentally absurd and unknowable world.

[Shirou]: Give me some hypotheticals, then.

(Haruto sighs.)

[Haruto]: Torture, under basically any circumstances. Killing with the intention to do so for reasons other than survival of yourself or another person, especially if there were alternatives. Not a whole lot more than that, honestly? Like I said, it’s about circumstance and why you want to do something.

[Shirou]: Saying that intention changes whether an action is good or not is making it too easy, though. Doesn’t everyone think what they’re doing is right in their own mind? A soldier fighting in an unjust war might say that they’re protecting their fellow soldiers.

[Haruto]: Sure, but you have to ask whether or not everyone seriously considers the outcomes of their actions. What about double effect?

[Shirou]: You might have to walk me through that one.

[Haruto]: You haven’t heard of double effect? What kind of Catholic are you?

[Shirou]: …

[Haruto]: Uh. You know, because it’s from Aquinas. He was hugely influential on Catholic doctrine and—

[Shirou]: We can talk about the history later, if you don’t mind.

[Haruto]: …Sorry. Anyways. Any action can have a consequence that could be considered potentially evil could also have a positive result. Say, committing murder to save someone’s life. Murder is usually considered categorically evil, but inaction leading to someone dying is worse. Or, someone stealing food to save their family from starving.

[Haruto]: But, you have to have an awareness of both of the results, tried and failed to find an alternative, make sure that the negative result isn’t excessive, you’ve done what you can to minimize harm, and the good result has to be an immediate result of the action. Consideration and reflection is the central part of it. Your hypothetical soldier probably hasn’t taken a long, hard look at the war machine they’re serving, so they’ve just picked the easy answer. It feels right to them but that doesn’t mean it’s good.

[Shirou]: I see. You’ve given me something to think about.

[Haruto]: Hey. What’s this about? You’ve been acting weird lately.

[Shirou]: I…

(Shirou’s phone buzzes with a notification. He picks it up.)

[Shirou]: Sorry. It’s for work. I’ll need to take this. Do you mind if I step outside for a while?

[Haruto]: …Alright. Just. Talk to me when you get back. Please.

[Shirou]: I will.

(The door slams as he walks out. Haruto sighs and hits the bed. He picks up a book. The pages rustle as he turns them.)

[Haruto]: …He’s lying. I know it.

(He snaps the book shut.)

[Haruto]: Fuck it. He can be mad at me later.

(He stands up, grabbing his bag. The door creaks as it open, and he walks out.)

[maxineswritingcenter]

Beauty and the Beast AU - Demon!Dean Winchester

We'll see how this goes! I'm using she/her pronouns for this fic, just to keep it like the original story.

Characters (As they appear): Fem!reader, reader’s father, Gabriel, Metatron, Michael, Zachariah, Demon!Dean

Summary: You are seen as the oddball around town, you're into books and other nerdy things that the small town you were raised in just don't get. You dream of going on the road and having adventures, but it's unlikely you can because you don't have a lot of money. Your father runs a house renovating business and goes to a job in the spooky abandoned house in the woods. You see where I'm going from here.

-------------------------------------------------

Legend tells of of a town, just like one you may know. There was a hero known through out the land for his selflessness and his righteousness. But in times of great peril he sought help from a dark force to go against a greater evil, Cain. With the help of an unlikely accomplice, the hero took the Mark of Cain. The Mark turned our hero into a dangerous foe, scaring family and friends with his unpredictability. But our hero lost the fight against the evil Metatron and died. In a turn of events our hero rose from the grave, but he was not the same person. His eyes black as night and powers beyond anything anyone had ever seen. He began to burn and pillage anything he could find in the name of destruction. His friends and family chased him down into an abandoned house in the woods. With the help of divine intervention everyone in the house was trapped. As our hero lives with the Mark he will fall deeper and deeper into the darkness, farther from his humanity. His brother has a cure, but fears what our hero is capable of. Our hero hides alone in the house, isolating himself from those he cared for most. Only true love could tame him and bring back his humanity. But who could ever love a beast?

-

Did I think I was still going to be in this tiny town after I graduated college? No. But here I was. In the same tiny room, in the same tiny house, in the same tiny town. I suppose it would have to do until I found a job I didn't despise and made enough money doing side jobs so I could leave this place. My father and I shared this tiny house. One bedroom, one bathroom, one basement. I was given the office space in the house for my room. It was small and crowded, but I had to say it had its perks. Well, more singular: perk. One entire wall was bookshelves to house my many, many books. Majority fiction. If I couldn't have adventures on my own, I would join other characters on theirs.

I had woken up, fifteen minutes before my alarm, as usual. My dad said it was from stress, but I wasn't really stressed too much. Not really. The only thing that stressed me out was the fact that I was going into town for the farmer’s market and I wanted to avoid two certain individuals. I got dressed, I had been going for a more boho vibe lately, so today it was a long, floral skirt, black T-shirt, and some slip on sneakers. It was still warm out so I wanted to take advantage of it. Late September weather was unpredictable. The local weather station was talking about snow in the coming weeks and I really wasn't prepared for that to start.

I grabbed my large flannel bag and made my way too the kitchen. Dad was leaning against the counter, reading the local paper.

"Morning, pops." I called, "Any spicy gossip?" Small towns meant gossip was put into the newspaper, which I couldn't decide was terrible or not considering everyone knew about it anyway.

"Oh you bet, there's two sections worth of business about the monkshood going missing all over town. Which... I don't see how that's relevant." He said, taking a gulp from his coffee.

"Sounds like the resident werewolf was having none of it." I joked. Then something caught my eye, cupcakes on the counter.

"Oh did someone get a special delivery?" I winked, bumping hips with him. His face went red, he started scratching his beard to distract himself.

"Uh na- oh yeah. Mrs. Barber dropped them off this morning. Said she had some left over from the bake sale at the high school." He lied.

"It's Ms. Barber, dad. And she definitely has a thing for you. Why don't you give her a wink every once in a while?" I said, leaning over and taking one from the tray.

"Oh I don't know..." He said. Ever since mom left us, he's been nervous about getting back into the dating scene.

"Just sayin'." I shrugged and made my way out the door.

"What's the cupcake for? It's 10am?" He called as I shut the door. The cupcake was for our mail man. The man had an incredible sweet tooth. He was a huge patron of the bakery. And right on time, here came the mail truck. The only mail truck at our post office.

"Hey Gabe!" I smiled as he parked. He got out, smoothing back his brown hair. He had a smile that was contagious.

"Hey there, (Y/N). Is that for me?" He pointed to the cupcake in my hand.

"Of course, anything for my favorite messenger." He chuckled, taking it and replacing my empty hand with our mail.

"You spoil me." He smiled and took a bite. "So uh, where ya off too?" He leaned against the front end.

"Farmer's market and the library."

"So veggies and the same book you always get?" He said, licking his fingers of frosting.

"I don't need your judgement." I rolled my eyes, starting to make my way towards town.

"Thanks again!" He said, getting into his truck and continuing on his route.

I waved back, making my way past the neighboring houses and into the heart of town. The whole town was out and about. Everyone I passed seemed to look and whisper, it was the reality we lived in. I was the girl whose mom left without a trace. I was the girl who lived in her own little world of books and fantasies. I was different and odd compared to everyone else. But that was okay... Or at least that's what I keep telling myself.

The main Street was blocked off for the market. I crossed the street and pushed open the door to the library. It was a small shop, there were a few shelves and a register. In the back corner was a reading nook with a soft recliner chair that I knew very well and probably had my butt print in it. After I set my last read in the return box, I made my way towards the section I was looking for. The book had no title and no author, just a single rose on the front. I think that's what drew me to it. It was a story about a guy and girl who meet and she doesn't realize that he is her true love. I could quote this book, it was my favorite. Far off places, daring sword fights, magic spells, a prince in disguise. I held it close to me and moved towards the front where the librarian sat. He was an older man, a little odd looking but didn't seem like he could do any harm. He had told me his name was Met. A little strange but who was I to judge. He was hunched over on the desk, looking down through the glasses at the end of his nose. Met said he had read every book in the library more that 5 times which is why I think we got along.

"Good morning, Met." I greeted him, setting the book and my library card on the counter.

"That book again?" He said, not even looking up from his book.

"I can't help it. It's my favorite." I grinned, I couldn't wait to get my hands on it again.

"You know what? Just keep it. No charge." He said, looking up at me with a knowing look in his eyes.

"What? No, I couldnt-" I started. I hated that I was refusing but I just couldn't take it.

"I insist. You've read that book more than I have, which is saying something. I know you'll give it a good home." He smiled. I took the book and hugged it close.

"Thank you, thank you so much." I gushed, carefully sliding the book in my bag, "I'll see you around!" He waved as I left the shop, a new spring in my step.

-

There were the usual crowd in the market. The baker, the various farmers and Crafters. I made my way, stall to stall, chatting and picking up a few things. I preferred shopping this way, I could help out the community and get fresh produce, win win. The only issue was I accidentally made eye contact with the town pretty boy, Michael and his goon Zach.

Michael was the town hero. He was a good hunter and all around charmer. He was tall, dark, and handsome. Meaning every girl in town was in love with him. Except me, considering that I think getting by on your looks and being macho wouldn't be a great match for me, who finds more attraction in personality and, well, a brain. He and his goon Zach were odd friends, considering Zach looked like he was old enough to be Michael's father. Michael had this odd obsession with the fact that I wasn't obsessed with him. I had heard from the rumor mill that he had a crush on me and no thank you.

I quickly darted through the crowd, hoping he couldn't follow. I circled back towards my house. But as soon as I made it to the drive way:

"Hello, (Y/N)." Michael said, he was laying on the charm early this time. He was also, right behind me. I turned, holding onto my bag.

"Hello, Michael." I smiled stiffly. If I kept things short, maybe he would go away.

"Listen, I was thinking that we should go back to my place and talk. I havea few things I would like to dicuss." I clicked my tongue, stepping away from him.

"Maybe another time. I have to help my dad with a few things."

"Heh, that guy needs all the help he can get!" Zach laughed.

"Hey! Don't talk about my father like that!" I shouted, rolling up my sleeves to punch this dick a new one when Michael stepped forward and punched Zach in the shoulder, "Yeah, don't talk about her father that way!" He turned back to me, "Now, I know how you feel about me."

I raised an eyebrow, "You could not possibly have a clue." I continued, "Listen, I gotta go, nice talking to you, bye!" I hurried inside, making sure to lock the door behind me. I set my bag on the counter, carefully placing items in their places when I spotted a note on the counter.

Gone to the old house in the woods. Be home for dinner.

Love Dad.

Dad renovated old houses and made them new. He was just the run of the mill Property Brother, without the twin and real estate practice. The house he was referring to was this huge mansion that was in the woods. It used to be the home of this really rich guy back in colonial times, like pre-America. The guy never had any kids so it was just left to be abandoned and rot. Some people said it was haunted, but who would want to haunt that place? It was falling apart.

I shrugged and went about my day as usual. I made a snack from the delicious apples I got, read a little, tidied up around the house, and made dinner. But... Dad was late. Sure, he had been home late before but never this late. A hour turned into hours. I tried his cell phone but it just went to voice mail each time. So there I was anxiously sitting at the table, my foot about to wear a hole in the carpet from how much it was shaking. I just kept refreshing my messages, hoping that he would text me saying he was late or stuck somewhere.

"That's it." I stood up and gathered my things. I shoved the first aid kit, my phone, and a few other things in my bag before making my way to the garage. It was a two car garage, one spot for dad's work truck and another for my 1999 Thunderbird, a car that definitely did not live up to its name. I started the car, opened the garage and left, almost not pausing to close it.

It was just getting to be dusk, the sky was just beginning to fade to night when I got to the house. When I pulled up the long, winding driveway, far off the road, I saw dad's truck. I opened my door and looked around the car. Maybe he could have slipped and knocked himself out.

"Dad?" I called, looking around. His took box wasn't in the passenger seat, meaning he was probably inside. Holding my bag tightly by the strap I got closer. In the time it had taken to get here, it had chilled significantly. I really should have grabbed a jacket. The house was... Menacing to say the least. The white faded paint was chipping off, the columns on the front porch were near collapse. The wooden stairs creaked as I made my way up to the ajar door.

"Hello?" I called, peaking me head inside. I used my phone flashlight to look around. There was graffiti on the walls from kids who really should take an art class. Their pentagrams could use some work. There was stuff strewn all over. Lots of papers and other things.

"Dad?" I called again but cursed myself when I heard creaking. I am literally that girl in every horror movie. Let's go to the haunted house and call out to someone and then get straight up murdered. I am literally so stupid. I silently crept closer to the stairs, they probably led down to the basement.

"(Y/N)?" I heard dad's voice echo from below.

"Dad!" I called back, rushing down the stairs. As I got lower, the atmosphere seemed to change from a old house to almost a bunker. Metal lined the stair case as I went down further and further.

When I made it to the bottom I looked around in shock. This place was practically brand new. Hardwood floors, nick knacks lining the shelves. There was a kitchenette in the corner with a white marble island.

"(Y/N)!" Dad called again, the sound coming from a narrow hall that led to a bookshelf. I could hear my dad calling from behind it.

"Grab a book!" He shouted.

"A book? What does that-" I started grabbing books, pushing them away to see a door but instead, when I grabbed a copy of Arabian Nights there was a low groan from the wall. I took a step back as the wall swung back to reveal a secret room. It was a circular concrete room and as soon as I walked in goosebumps rose on my arms. Dad was tied to a chair in the middle of the room.

"Dad..." I ran up to him, "Oh thank God you're alright! What happened? Who did this?" I said, moving around him to get at the ropes.

"We gotta get out of here, kid, this guy isn't human. He'll kill us both." He whispered. What kind of an asshole takes a nice guy like my dad and locks him up? A psycho, that's who. My dad coughed, it was wet and loud and too much for my liking.

"God, it's freezing in here, you're going to get sick." I said, finally starting to loosen the ropes.

"Well, well...." I froze at the new voice. It was deep and cocky sounding, "Look what the cat dragged in." I stood up to face this guy. He was just Out of view of the light, all I could see were his nose and the smirk on his face. He was wearing a red button down, dark jeans and boots.

"Look, I don't know who you are or what you want but we don't have anything to give. Please, he's getting sick, you can't keep him here." I pleaded, holding my dad's shoulder to keep up this confidence I was trying to portray.

"What he deserves, breaking into my place, snooping around." The stranger said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"He was just doing his job, this house is abandoned!" I shouted, taking a step forward.

"Baby, please..." Dad whispered urgently, "Just go, it's me he wants, don't let yourself get wrapped up in this."

"I can't leave you here, I won't." I said, crouching down and holding his hands. They were so cold and I could feel him shaking. Dad's eyes were so dull, his teeth were chattering.

Rage built up in my chest as I stood to meet the stranger again.

"Who do you think you are, keeping him here like this?" I spat, "Come into the light, coward."

"(Y/N)!" My dad shouted in a warning voice. The stranger only chuckled and shook his head. He stood up from where he was leaning on the door frame and took a step forward. My jaw tightened and my eyes widened. The only thing I could focus on was his eyes. They were pitch black. No pupil, no Iris, just black. I quickly recovered my glare and stood my ground, even as he came close to me. He smelled off, like rotten eggs. On his arm there was a strange mark that seemed to glow red. In his hand he held a odd weapon. It was the jaw bone of some type of animal attached to a handle. There were even teeth still attached.

"And what do you intend to do with that? Club me until it breaks?" I smirked, again that confidence I was trying to portray. But was intimidation the right choice in this situation? I didn't care. He seemed like another smug asshole that could get whatever he wanted from his looks whoever or whatever he was.

He hummed under his breath, lifting the weapon to his open palm. He dragged it down, and I watched it slice open his palm. But as soon as blood appeared from the cut, it disappeared as if it healed itself.

And confidence gone.

"Look, sweetheart, this isn't about you. But you're doing a number on my patience. So get the hell out." He motioned to the door.

I looked at the door, then back to my father. I couldn't leave him here. No matter how much this guy scared me. I had no other choice.

"Let my dad go, I'll take his place." I said quickly, "Do whatever you want, just let him go."

"No! I won't let you do this." Dad said, leaning forward to struggle.

"I won't let you rot down here. Let me do this." I couldn't look at him in the eye.

The stranger took my chin in his hand, making me meet his eyes, the black void of nothingness. It made me think of death and despair.

"You sure about this?" He asked, he lowered his voice, "You sure you want to take his place?"

I nodded, "Please, let him go." I whispered, my voice was on the verge of shaking. The stranger grinned and let go of my face. He went around my dad with the weapon, in a quick slice, the ropes fell away. He grabbed my dad by the shirt, lifting him from the seat and pulling him to the door.

"Don't hurt him!" I shouted.

"I'll come back for you, (Y/N), I'll get help!" Dad called, his voice fading as the hidden door shut behind them.

Oh God...

I slowly sat on the chair, the dread setting in.

"What have I done?"

---------------------------------------------------

NEW SERIES - You will never guess how it ends. 

Reblog if you liked it, likes work too.

Read part 2 here!

Requests are open and the fandoms I write for are listen in the bio. 

Taglist: (shoot me an ask if you want to be tagged)

@happy-little-marvel

@hobby27

@somebodyto-love

@beanie-beebo 

[emeraldbirdcollector]

More flower language

Someone suggested that Neville would be the sort of person to declare his love entirely through Victorian flower language. I thought about it, and figured out why that would be necessary…

She hadn’t gone to the lake hoping to see him there. Of course she hadn’t. Ever since Hannah had come back to Hogwarts, everything had been upside down, wrong, and horrible, and the worst part had been the way he’d been avoiding her, cold and distant. So cold, after…she closed her eyes and nearly cried, remembering the way he’d hugged her the day they’d said goodbye, the day the horrible news came about her mother, the way he’d held on to her just a little too long, the way she’d treasured the memory of the way his arms had felt around her all year until she’d finally been able to come back….only to find that he’d seemed to have forgotten even that they were friends, let alone teetering on the verge of more. So she hadn’t expected him to be there in their safe, quiet place, where they’d spent so much time talking about everything and nothing.

But there he was, kneeling by the water, his attention focused intently on something in his hands. He put whatever it was down, softly, and lifted his hands, murmuring, in a voice Hannah could barely hear, “Go on, little guy. Be free. You’ll be safer here.”

The shape moved, in one great hop reaching the water and swimming away, and with a shock, Hannah recognized it. “You’re letting Trevor go?” she asked, horrified, forgetting the distance between them.

Neville’s head jerked around to see her, startled. He looked at her for a minute, a stunned expression on his face, and then gathered himself together and stood up, brushing the mud off of his robes. “Yeah. I had to.”

“But you love that toad! How can you…?” She broke off. “I’m sorry, Neville, that’s none of my business, I didn’t mean…”

“No. I mean, it’s all right.” He bit his lip and looked down for a moment, then looked back at her, straight into her eyes, as he had not done since she came back. “You should know this. Hannah, you know what the Carrows are like, you’ve seen them in action, right?”

She nodded, shuddering a bit. She was one of their favorite targets in her classes with them, thanks to her Muggle mother (oh, Mum, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, they killed you because of me), and she was desperately afraid for her Muggleborn friend Justin, somewhere out there in hiding with his family.

“They’re awful, they’re monsters, and we’ve got to stop them, keep them from doing any more damage than we can prevent until…well, until either Harry comes back or Voldemort comes for us or this whole thing comes to a head one way or another. And I’m a pureblood, I’m safer from them than most, so I’ve got to be one of the people standing up most visibly against them. They won’t hurt me so much - they know pure blood is rare, and they want to preserve as much of it as they can.”

“So you’re just going to throw yourself into danger based on that?” She felt her heart twist inside her, thinking of all the things they could do to him without outright killing him.

“Someone has to,” he said quietly, and at that moment she knew that the Hat had made no mistake, whatsoever, by placing him in Gryffindor.

He went on, his eyes firmly, intently on hers. “Trevor doesn’t have that protection, Hannah. And if the Carrows get the idea that they can use him to make me behave - if they get the idea there’s anyone I…really care about who doesn’t have that pureblood protection - they won’t hesitate to torture, even to break someone. Believe me, I know what Death Eaters are capable of, that way.” The corners of his lips quirked up in a bitter, humorless flash of a smile. “I can’t let them see that there’s anyone I…” he swallowed hard, “anyone I love who isn’t a pureblood, isn’t safe from them. Do you understand, Han?”

His voice was tender, soft, and she knew that they were no longer talking about Trevor. There was no way she could push out words past the choking lump that had suddenly appeared in her throat, but she nodded. She did understand. She wanted to throw herself at him, scream at him to stop this all now, keep himself safe, or at least let her fight at his side, not push her back into safety and make her watch them hurt him…but she nodded, hating herself for it.

He reached into the pocket of his robes, and pulled out a much-folded piece of parchment, which he handed to her. “Here. I was hoping I’d be able to give this to you discreetly at some point, and this seems to be as good a time as any. If the Carrows find it, it’s a bit of Herbology drawing practice. I…Hannah, please stay safe, please stay behind the scenes. I know you’ve got as much to fight for as anyone, I remember what they did to your Mum, and I know you’re as brave and capable as anyone in Dumbledore’s Army - but I also know that you’re better than any of us in Potions, and I know you’ve been taking informal lessons from Madame Pomfrey since Justin got Petrified second year, and that makes you invaluable as more than a fighter. We’re all going to get hurt at some point or another - we need you intact to help put us back together. We need you safe…I need you safe. Please, Han, stay safe.”

“We need you, too, you know.” Tears were welling in her eyes, she knew it, but she refused to let them fall in front of him.

“Not in the same way. I’ve got to be on the front lines. But Hannah, if I fall, if they get to me, I just wanted you to know…” He gestured at the parchment she was holding in her hands. “Remember that book Professor Sprout gave you before you went home last year. I’ll see you around.” And he slipped past her and darted off before she had a chance to register that he was leaving.

She looked after him, biting her lip. Damn it. He has to be the Merlin-cursed hero. Why couldn’t I have fallen for some nice, peaceful, unheroic Hufflepuff boy? And then she remembered Cedric, dead too soon precisely because he had been Hufflepuff’s champion, and Ernie, who had been practically spoiling for a fight in Justin’s defense the previous day in “Muggle Studies” class. It’s wartime. A peaceful, unheroic life is far too much to ask, even in Hufflepuff. Best go and borrow some more books from Madame Pomfrey. If I can’t keep them all out of danger, my friends and my family and my…Neville, I can damned well work on learning how to mend them when they get hurt.

She tucked the piece of parchment in the breast pocket of her robes, and headed back to the school. It wasn’t until later, after dinner, with Susan, Ernie and Megan engaged in a vigorous game of Exploding Snap in the Common Room, that she managed to get some time alone in the dormitory to open and read it. The page was full of flower drawings, in his usual meticulously-detailed style, and she puzzled over it for a moment before recalling the book Professor Sprout had given her. Finding its familiar white-and-lavender cover among the books in her trunk, she pulled out Flowers and Flirtations - A Look At Muggle Floral Language and began looking through it.

Let’s see, the first one’s a red tulip, that means…oh. She was glad no one was around, because she was certain she was blushing fiercely. Declaration of love. Her heart was threatening to hammer its way out of her chest, but it calmed down when she found the meaning of the next flower, a striped carnation. “I can’t be with you.” And the dead leaves mean something too, if I’m remembering right - yes, there it is, “sorrow.” Begonia and monkshood…here we are, begonia is “beware” and monkshood is, let’s see,  "a deadly foe is near.“ White heather around a pear branch - that’s “protection,” and the pear branch is my wand wood, so it’s me. And purple hyacinth - “forgive me.” The cherry branch is his wand wood - his signature, I guess.

Here, in private, she could let the tears fall, and they did. Oh, my heart, what if we never get a chance at this? What if they kill you before I can…oh, Merlin, Godric, Helga, whoever’s listening, please keep him safe!

But for now, her more practical self reminded her, better reply, so he knows how you feel, at least.

She didn’t notice the Fat Friar hovering over her shoulder, nor, wrapped up in her drawing as she was, did she feel it when he raised his hands in benediction over her and slipped away, smiling to himself.

“Neville Longbottom, stop that pacing this instant. You’re driving me nuts.” Ginny Weasley scolded, pointing her quill at him in a threatening manner. “Sorry, Gin.” He ran his hands through his hair and flopped down in an armchair next to hers, looking moodily at the fire.

“What’s eating you, anyway?” she asked curiously.

“I’ve done something ridiculously stupid, that’s all, and I’m afraid it was all for nothing.”

“Stupid as in, ‘liable to get my older brothers to laugh at you,’ or stupid as in ‘liable to get us all killed by the Carrows?’”

“Liable to get Hannah in danger, if any of the Carrows can read Muggle flower language.”

Ginny leaned forward conspiratorily, her eyes sparkling. “You sent her a love letter, didn’t you.” His blush was all the confirmation she needed. “So spill. What did she say?”

“I haven’t heard back from her yet. For all I know, she’s struggling to find a way to let me down gently. She should, anyway. If the Carrows ever find out…oh, Ginny, I’m an idiot, and a selfish idiot to boot. They’ll hurt her.”

“They’re not going to find out. They don’t deign to interest themselves in anything Muggleish, you know. And you know we’re all at risk, every day, and the likelihood that any of us are going to survive this year is…well, smaller than we’d all like it to be. If you end up dead, and you’ve never told her…”

“Maybe it would have been better that way. I don’t know, Gin, I don’t. Nothing’s clear anymore.”

She put a sympathetic hand on his arm. “Don’t I know it.”

Just then, Dobby came through, on his usual evening rounds, duster in hand. He approached Neville and said, in a conspiratorial whisper, “Good evening, Master Longbottom, Mistress Weasley. Dobby has a note for Master Longbottom, from Nibsy, who says it is from Mistress Abbott, but not to tell the Carrows. Dobby has not. Dobby will not.” He held out a folded square of parchment, and then went on his way, humming cheerfully as he went.

Ginny raised her eyebrows teasingly at Neville, who was blushing again as he opened the parchment. There were fewer pictures on this one than on the one he had sent her, but the first flower of all made him breathe a sigh of deep relief. Ambrosia. Your love is returned. Whatever else happens, I have that.

Ginny saw the sigh, and grinned at him. “It’s all right, then? All right, I’ll leave you alone to get all sentimental over it, while I go pretend I can write to Harry.” The last sentence came out with more bitterness than she had intended, because she tried to soften it with a smile, but couldn’t quite manage it.

“He’s out there, Gin. He’s out there, and safe, and he’ll come back. I know it.”

“I hope so. Because otherwise I’m going to have to hunt him down and kill him, and I don’t want that.” She tossed her red hair behind her, and left for the girls’ dorm.

Neville shook his head ruefully at her, then turned back to the note. Ambrosia, then azalea- what’s azalea? He headed into the boys’ dorm, and found the book under his bed. “Look after yourself for me.” I’ll do my best. For you.  You give me something to live for, anyway. And next…garlic and mistletoe, which are…“courage,” and “surmounting difficulties.” And then daisy twined with her wand wood for a signature, that’s “loyal love”, I don’t even have to look that one up. Hannah, love, when this is all over, I swear to you, I’ll be the most devoted sweetheart you could ever want. Just hold out for me, please.

Pomona Sprout settled herself in her office chair, and took a deep breath, inhaling the rich green scent that pervaded her greenhouses, living quarters, and office space alike. Another long day over, and no permanent damage done to any of my children, at least. But I still want the Carrows to writhe in the deepest pits of Hell for all eternity. She shuddered, the taste of swallowed fury burning acid in the back of her throat.

The Fat Friar slipped through the door, a kindly smile on his placid face. “I have done my rounds for the evening - all is as well as can be, and the children are nicely settled in. And there is a bit of gossip that may be a comfort to you, if you like to hear it.”

“At this point, anything that promises a bit of comfort is a godsend, Brother Joseph, and you know it. Tell me.”

“Remember that book you gave to my little Abbott and to Longbottom last year, before little Abbott left to see about her mother’s funeral?”

“Yes, of course. I was rather hoping they’d make use of it while she was gone, but…well, things happened.”

“I rather think they have, actually. At least, I caught her reading a note in what looked to be his drawing style, and made out a red tulip thereon, and the flower she was drawing in response was most decidedly ambrosia.”

Sprout beamed happily. “So love declared, and returned..” She paused a bit, less happily. “Let’s hope they have sense enough to keep it from the Carrows.”

“If they had not, they would have written in plain English. But with luck, when this is all over…”

“When this is all over, we’ll dance at their wedding. If we can ensure the pair of them survive…such a sweet pair they are, too…” She dabbed her eyes, trying to keep the sudden tears from falling.

“Take heart, Pomona, dear, and have faith. We’ll see them through.”

“We had better. He’s like the son I never had, you know, such a talent for Herbology, and the spitting image of poor dear Alice…she would be so proud of him, you know, and Frank too.”

“They would indeed, and if a Friar were permitted to have a daughter, it would be my dear little Abbott. She has just the right sort of heart for him, too, bright and warm and generous with her love as she is. We’ll see them wed one day, I’ll warrant, and when we do, mind you bring extra handkerchiefs, for I suspect you will weep for joy the entire time.”

“That I will, and better tears than I’ve been crying lately, I tell you.” She smiled ruefully at him. “So which of you have been spying on the Carrows this week, and is there any news in that direction?”

“Oh, yes, Sir Nicholas says…” and the conversation drifted quietly to other topics, and to plans to keep their children safe until the war was won.  

[bounnostra]

monkshood O bams O grand whatever trial one O re: ana

A tie, huh. That was new. Not really what Bams had expected them to cap out at either, somehow; a vote more one way than the other still might confirm more than just settling halfway without any further clue, even just in vague Gambit bragging or jeering or similar. Maybe now they could start getting round to which confessions or otherwise were fake, and then go for a nap, because holy shit her sleep schedule was bad normally yes but it had been days-

Oh.

The group actually listened to her?

They were having a Grand Don trial Bams now realised in the light of day that she actually didn't feel prepared for whatsoever? She'd gone into the test with the same energy as her fifteen year old self calling a studying strategy washing down a sleep pill with an energy drink?

As strange a statement as it may sound, Ana's vague gesturing towards their previous discussions was the thing to prevent Bams from making like her fifteen year old self in that test and simply sitting there mentally repeating every swear word she knew by then, actually pulling a half smirk from her. 

"Getting me to do the dirty work, huh, Ana. I see how it is."

But the joking didn't last long: the realisation of the weight of what the two of them might just have started in this room was starting to make itself known much more, every single added gaze on this idea threatening to push Bams further down into her seat and tell them to forget the whole thing, actually. But she swallowed the concerns down, massaging her temples to loosen up her memory before folding her arms and gripping them tight for support. 

"...Okay. Let's see if I can do this justice. Really needs to be said in a more exciting tone, probably, but anyway. There's two facts we seem to know for sure. One, a group having a Grand Whatever is apparently unique to us. Two, there are other people lurking around this place that we've seen, more or less. Claire, Mothman, Benny, and we know Brandi and Mamoru were around at some point. The extra people in the Gallery, who knows. But for the sake of our sanity, let's work with who we know right now."

"Here's where it starts to get weird. With everything we learned - and some stuff we haven't seen - it honestly doesn't sound like an... awful guess to suggest that originally our group started as more people than we see in this room. We never did get that group size question right. We think our original group was all of us who started here except for the Don in being unique, plus Claire and Mothman, plus Brandi and Mamoru. Not plus Benny, because I heard she said she never had a codename..? Still never spoke to her myself. Was a bit busy being a mushroom after we heard about her. Anyway, I think that's 21, which is a number we didn't try for that question."

Her gaze flicked to Scourge, where she mouthed 'brace yourself' before continuing.

"...Anyway. We all get brought in, shit happens as it did here. Claire and Mothman die. Brandi and Mamoru think that's a bit shit, and do... whatever it was that they did. Something bad enough that Gamb had to ban it, and that game was fucked up, basically. Considering how long the murder circus has been going here, just a couple of deaths probably wasn't enough, so. He wipes our memories, plops us back in the waiting room to have a redo- because there is evidence Gamb can... rewrite memories. Like our first motive and our supposed time at Summit. But nothing to prove that he's able or willing to revive the dead, so our group got reduced by those who died in the first attempt."

"...Should probably get to the Grand Jackass, huh. Right. In that little story Ana just launched at my brain at high speeds and I probably butchered there, they get placed into our game to run interference and keep everything being managed. They're even possibly some kind of higher up than Gamb in whatever system out there is deciding to run murder games, here to make sure he doesn't let something like that... gambit slip again. Maybe even censoring him themselves- have we all been present every time Gamb's been stopped saying something..? I don't envy anyone having to try fight a murder owl, but whatever. Kinda combines with the fact that they surely have to have some kind of hand in this game, right. If they were a complete dummy here for whatever purpose, why have people they're working with? Why be reaching out to people..?"

I ran out of serious sprites to break this up.

"...And here's where the request to please be goddamn civil about all this for now comes in. Our current working Grand Mess identity theory is someone who wasn't part of our original group and wasn't memory wiped on the topic of what's been happening here, who might be at odds with our original class' theme for being inserted into it later - if they were even brought into Summit naturally at all. Maybe also sticking with the danger loving and confidence traits, considering this maintaining Gamb thing does require them to be part of the murder game as is. Unless they have a completely OP immunity built in, somehow. Magical luck, some enhancement, I dunno. I realise just how goddamn vague a starting point this might be, but. It's like Ana said. We need to hear other perspectives and knowledge about other people, probably, rather than just us two going batshit in the Gallery. And... it's not a wasted vote if we miss the mark. If we can clear out a bias that builds up, for example- yeah, if this was our last chance circumstances might be different, but... as it is."

...Goddammit. Okay. She had ignored the current conversation long enough to get her serious points across, but the bullshit quota was screaming out for some relief. 

"God. At least take her to dinner first." 

[laysdimplesareillegal]

Herbology Homework and Quidditch Practice

I sat in the library with Blaise. We were looking through books for our Herbology class and I was half-way through the third book and I still couldn’t find what I was looking for.

“What are Wolfsbane’s two other names, and what is it used for?” I knew the answer, it was somewhere in the back of my mind, but I could not, for the life of me, remember what it was.

“Wolfsbane is also called monkshood and aconite. It’s most commonly used for Wolfsbane Potion.” Blaise answered me from across the table. I felt like slapping myself in the face.

“Thanks Blaise.” I sighed, writing down the answer on the parchment. “I’m going to find more books.” I whispered to Blaise and stood up. Wandering through the library, I was looking for the book on endangered plants. Walking backwards, I ran into someone on accident.

“Well, excuse you.” Someone said curtly behind me.

“Oh I’m sorry.” I turned around to look at a Gryffindor with curly brown hair.

“You’re Diggory’s sister right?” she asked me.

“Yes, Cedric is my brother.”

“And you’re a Slytherin?” She looked my clothes up and down.

“And Liam’s a Ravenclaw.”

“And you are?” I asked.

“Hermione.”

An awkward silence surrounded us.

“I saw you talking to Blaise.”

“Yeah we’ve known each other since we were little.”

Another awkward silence.

“Were you looking for something?” Hermione asked.

“Yes I need a book on endangered plants for herbology class.”

“Oh well if you’re looking for books on herbology.” She led me to another section of the library. “Here’s the endangered herbs book. But not all of them are found in this book.”

“Thanks Hermione.” I walked back over to my assignment.

Blaise seemed to have already finished his assignment and I was almost mad that Blaise was so smart yet refused to help me with my work. I read and searched throughout the entire book Hermione had given me but I still wasn’t finding the answer I needed. Maybe I was looking over it. Maybe I wasn’t looking hard enough. I even tried looking off of Blaise’s paper. But I couldn’t find it! Anywhere! Finally, I went looking for Hermione.

I looked throughout the Hogwarts library and she was still there! I wouldn’t have stayed there if I didn’t have to. “Hermione?” I called out to her quietly.

“Yes?”

“I’m not finding what I need in the book that you found for me. Well, actually, I’m not finding it anywhere.” I worked my hardest to make myself sound desperate. I heard from my brother that Slytherins didn’t exactly have the best track records with the other school houses.

“Sure!” This Hermione girl seemed overjoyed to share her knowledge with me.

“I need to find the most endangered herb that grows natively at Hogwarts, but, as you know, I’ve been at Ilvermorny so I don’t exactly know that kind of common knowledge.”

“Oh well that’s obvious.” She took the quill from my hands and scribbled as neatly and as quickly as one could, on my notes.

“Thanks.” I sighed, relieved to have the answer I’ve been looking for, for hours.

I watched as Blaise stared at Hermione. Was she someone I wasn’t supposed to be talking to? 

Hermione walked off after a satisfied “you’re welcome.”

“Next.” my sigh told Blaise I would need more help. “Research one magical creature. ‘Find its origin and the two identifying aspects. Expand.’ Oh I know what to do!” Instantly, I was scribbling on my note paper.

At Ilvermorny, they paid special attention to herbs and creatures found natively there. I had no idea what lived at Hogwarts, but ask me about Ilvermorny and I could recite its entire history.

Blaise glanced at me but I was too busy to return the look in his eyes. My professionalism seemed to impress Blaise. I’m sure he was thinking something along the lines of “Finally, she working.”

“What are you researching?” Blaise asked me. Smiling, I lifted up my parchment. The Horned Serpent. “Your Ilvermorny house.” He stated.

“Yes! House pride!” Already having all the facts one could wish for about Horned Serpents, my work was easy to start and even easier to finish. “I’m done, let’s go.” I stood up and collected my things.

Blaise muttered something under his breath and we walked to the dorms together.

“After we put our stuff down let’s go see if we can find some snacks in the great hall.” I proposed.

“Let’s.” was all Blaise said in response.

People stared as Blaise and I walked into the hall together. I didn’t really see what was so enticing about him. Whenever I walked with him people stared. I mean, growing up he is always called handsome from parents and other adults but I thought that was just a compliment they all made like when they called me beautiful.

“There’s some!” A plate of snacks sat on the table, Blaise nudged me with his elbow to get my attention, and pointed in their direction. With his hand on my middle back he guided me there.

Sitting down, people watched with quiet discussion under their breaths.

“I have quidditch practice after this so I can’t stay long.”

Blaise nodded. We sat in a peaceful silence until I had to leave for practice. Once I left Blaise, I walked off to the practice field.

“Diggory.”

“I’m here.” I called to the captain.

“Are you ready?” He shouted to the team once we were all present.

We all shouted in unison and broke away before we all shot up into the air.

“Hey!” Someone shouted from the ground.

Looking down, I saw it was a Gryffindor. Our captain dropped to the ground gracefully to talk to him. The rest of the team followed in suit.

“What Wood?”

“We reserved the field for practice today.”

“We checked with all the professors and they said it was free.”

“Where’s the rest of his team?” I learned over to ask the person next to me. They shrugged. He’s fighting for the field and he’s teamless?

“We reserved it.”

“You’ve got no team to play with.” I spoke up finally, totally out of line.

“You’re new aren’t you?” I wasn’t sure what level I should be offended on.

“You’re a Diggory right?” He asked.

“Yes. And yes I’m new.”

“Then who are you to question my team 1st year?”

“I’m not a first year I’m a third year, I transfered her from Ilvermorny and I can question your team because I was told you had the best seeker but I don’t even see him.”

“I’ve been flying much longer than you have, third year or not.”

“I don’t mean to be rude Wood? Was that your last name? But I only spent one holiday at Ilvermorny out of the two holidays there and the trips there and back which means I have flown 10 trips the length from my home to Ilvermorny. That’s over fours hours of flying Wood. 10, 4,000 mile trips Wood.”

Mumbles rumbled through the rest of my team.

Our team captain smirked but pushed me back by my shoulder. “Stand down Diggory. We’re already here and practicing, Wood. Find another place to fly around in circles on your own.” Wood looked upset but left anyways.

“Diggory!” Our captain called me out from out the crowd that was our team.

“Yes Callum?”

“Is that true? All that stuff about your flying experience?”

“Yes Sir. Every word. I learned to fly before I learned to walk. Cedric taught me strategy when he was a first year. I’ve been trained as a beater since I watched my first professional game and said ‘I want to do that too.’”

“Slytherin,” Callum announced. “we have a secret weapon.” He grabbed my wrist and lifted my arm up so high I had to stand on my tip-toes so he wouldn’t rip it off. The team cheered and I smiled at them. This was going to be a good year.

[caroluna]

Tonks Ain’t Bovvered

Based on this

Charlie: I can’t believe we got double Potions

Tonks: Potions is well dry

Charlie: I don’t see what’s great about potions anyways

Tonks: Naw, potions’ for LOSERS

Charlie: Innit though? At least we got a new teacher today!

Tonks: Yeah, that’ll be a laugh, won’t it?

*Snape walks in*

Snape: Morning!

Charlie and Tonks: Allllriiiight

Snape: Turn to page 394

Tonks: Sir? Sir? What is that voice sir? Are you English sir?

Snape: Yes, I am—

Tonks: But I can’t understand what you’re saying, sir

Snape: well, clearly you can

Tonks: sorry, are you speaking Scottish now?

Snape: No, I’m talking English

Tonks: Right, don’t sound like it. Sounds like you swallowed a bullfrog innit?

Snape: Is your name Nymphadora Tonks by any chance?

Tonks: Yeah. Why?

Snape: Your reputation precedes you.

Tonks: INNIT THOUGH!

Snape: *begins to teach*

Tonks: *interrupts with increasingly exaggerated SIRS*

Snape: YES NYMPHADORA

Tonks: Can I aksk you a question?

Snape: Just wait!

Tonks: But can I aksk you a question? I only wanna aksk you a question; can I aksk you a questionnnnn?

Snape: What is it?

Tonks: Are you a Deafth Eater?

Snape: What?

Tonks: Do you serve Voldemort?

Snape: The Dark Lord?

Tonks & Charlie: INNIT THOUGH!

Snape: What are you talking about? I am your potions teacher.

Tonks: But I don’t think you are though! I think you’re a traitor to your kind and a coward!

Snape: Right—

Tonks: You know your arm right?

Snape: *confused* yeah

Tonks: You know your arm right?

Snape: *stare down*

Tonks: Does it got a big snake crawling from a skull’s mouth on it?

Snape: Be quiet!

Tonks: Do you call yourself something stupid, like The Half-Blood Prince, or summit?

Snape: CAN WE PLEASE GET BACK TO POTIONS

Tonks and Charlie: *click tongues*

Snape: PAGE 394!

Tonks: Do you fancy Lily Evans, sir?

Snape: *slams down book, stands, glowers* RIGHT— You are the most insolent child I have ever had the misfortune to teach

Tonks: thank you

Snape: you’re pointless, repetitious, and extremely dull

Tonks: bit like Potions

Snape: THE HALF BLOOD PRINCE WAS A GENIUS AND YOU, LITTLE MADAM, ARE NOT WORTHY OF MENTIONING HIS NAME! NOW YOU SIT RIGHT THERE OR I WILL FAIL YOU IN THIS ENTIRE MODULE RIGHT NOW

*Tonks sits back*

*sucks teeth*

Tonks: Am I bovvered?

Snape: *confused, softly* What?

Tonks: Am I bovvered? Look at my face. Look at my face.

Tonks: Is this a bovvered face?

Snape: Right, I’m sending an owl to your parents

Tonks: ARE YOU DISRESPECTING THE HOUSE OF TONKS?!

Tonks: Are you calling my father a Mudblood?

Tonks: Are you calling my mother a squib?

Snape: Tonks

Tonks: But she ain’t even a Squib though

Snape: Nymphadora--

Tonks: Face. Look. Bovvered? Lace wing flies! Face! Look! Page 394. Death-Eaters. Dark Lord!

Tonks: SIR SIR SIR SIR! Bovvered? Face! Look it! Always is inferior to until the very end!

Snape: *glowers*

Tonks: I ain’t even bovered! Lily Evans. Silly tattoos. Half-Blood Prince. Ain’t even bovvered!

Tonks: THERE IS NO DIFFERENCE BETWEEN MONKSHOOD AND WOLFSBANE!

Tonks: STOMACH OF A GOAT!

Tonks: DRAUGHT OF LIVING DEAFTH!

Tonks: BITE ME DEATH-EATER BOI!

Snape: 10 Points from Hufflepuff

Tonks: I still ain’t bovered!

[imagine-mr-markus]

.......ok I cave. I was gonna save both of these until it was all done bc one artwork specifically goes with the Nines fic I'm s t i l l editing bc it's painful and hard to concentrate on, and the other bc I still have to draw all of the flowers. And both of them bc I can't actually scan them into anything it's just me fucking around with photos to clean em up. But you know what? This blog is all about a hyperfixation so let's GOOOOO lmao!

This is obviously the Nines piece meant to go with the fic im working on titles The Dead Walk Behind, and as such the flowers represent that.

Not in any particular order there are:

Chrysanthemums (white): truth

Black Eyed Susans: Justice

Forget-me-knots: p obvious but Remembrance

Aloe (both plant and flowers): grief, affection, healing.

Willow (weeping): sadness

Monkshood: warning, danger

Oleander: caution, watchfulness

Bittersweet: truth

Columbine (red and purple): Anxiousness, trembling, resolution

Gladiolus (flower and budding stem): remembrance, strength

Marigold: despair, grief, jealousy

-----------------

I think that's all of them for poor Nines. Flowers are harder to draw than I thought they would be 😔, and Monsieur Dechart's face is real hard to put on paper I'll tell you that. All told I spent 9.5 hours nearly consecutively on RK900 there, and he was supposed to be up here with that fic for 9/9, but we saw how that went but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. Tbh I might go back and darken the backdrop square bc it did help with the shading a lot on the second venture to the artistic realms. I also wanted to do more of them just bc I like to draw and flowers are a fun challenge and I'm apparently a fuckin masochist so next up was my precious babe Mr Markus the Robot Jesus himself. Like I said, I haven't put the flowers in his yet, but I might as well list em while I've got the list up, no?

This is him all hopefully alright looking. I'm not 100% happy with him, and I'll probs tweak him a bit before I set this later with fixative and start the flowers, but considering all of you on this blog saw my first ever attempt at painting, which was also my first foray into trying to set Mr. Williams there onto the page, I'm happier than I was. I did go for a more growing out sort of look on his hair bc idk I like the Fluff and it's actually easier for me to logistically wrap my head around than fucking stubble, but I digress. So yes we have a fluffy man's but no flowers, but these are the flowers I'll hopefully be able to cram into the page. If not.......the cluster flowers go first 😒.

Acanthus: fine art, artifice

Angelica: Inspiration

Bay Tree: Glory

Begonia: beware, dark thoughts

Black Eyed Susan: Justice

Butterfly Weed: Let me Go

Calla Lily: beauty

Chamomile: patience in adversity

Columbine: Resolution

Dill: Powerful against evil

Edelweiss: Courage

Holly: Foresight

Hyssop: Sacrifice

Iris: a message

Yellow Jasmine: grace, elegance

Oak: Strength

Savoury: spice, interest

Tansy: Declaring War

Valerian: Readiness

Zinnia: remembrance of absent friends

And yeah, that's about it for my check in, sorry 😅. This was mainly meant to be a requests blog to help keep me motivated to write but I'm still flying solo so I got distracted by Pencils lmao. Anyways, I'll be back with either more art or some writing reasonably soon. Peace outski, guys, gals, and fellow non binary pals ✌🏼

[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

Hahaha yeah! I started it when I was like 21 and didn’t know how to write plots so hit a bit of a “I kind of know where this is going but don’t know how to get there” wall and lost steam.

That said, I’ve definitely gone back to Grima and he’s part of the stupid big lotr rewrite that I’m almost done with which, to be honest, was half inspired by a desire to revisit Grima Gets A Redemption Arc story but this time with a real plot and Boromir and other shit happening.

Anyway - I love this little fic! Grima would 100% give small children poisonous plants and be like “what??? It’s fine??”

Eomer: …is it though?

Grima: monkshood is poisonous to ingest but is a great muscle relaxant when applied externally. Poison can be helpful and sometimes beneficial. Like me.

Eomer:

Eomer: I guess.

Grima out here being a MENACE

So I wrote a Gríma Wormtongue fic, based on an unfinished one I read a while ago, which sadly hasn't been updated since 2013. Just some easygoing post-war stuff.

I just really love the idea of Gríma becoming a gardener who grows poisonous plants. It makes me think of my mother and the big garden she had when I was younger, and the poke weed she grew, and the way she gently told me to wash my hands when I brought her a jimsonweed flower, but still put it in a vase for me. She would also plant moonflowers under my window so they would grow up the wall high enough for me to see them from my bed, knowing they were my favorites.

[funeral-clown]

@heckyeahharrisco for harriscofest 

prompt: red riding hood au

bc i’m a sucker for werewolves, ok

There was a boy in the woods. 

That in and of itself wasn’t that uncommon. The wolf knew his woods were lovely, cool and lush and inviting. The perfect place for prey of all kinds. 

Especially rabbits.

Boys came here often, to play at war games or hunting. To find a place hidden away to play other games when they were older, with each other or the girls they brought along with them. Girls came too, to pick flowers and sing songs and beat up the boys with sticks. Children loved the wolf’s forest. 

Most of the time the wolf avoided them, and let them be. The laughter and cheerful banter of the children, the teasing hesitation and surly rebellion of the teenagers, it all reminded him of someone else, of something he wanted to bury deep under his instincts until nothing but teeth and fur remained. Let the young ones play their games. Better they than hunters, and as long as they stayed near the trails, the wolf had no need to go near them.

This boy was different. He was older, certainly old enough to be a hunter, but he didn’t smell of monkshood and rowan, didn’t seem to be carrying any weapons at all. He wandered the trails like old couples sometimes did, without a particular purpose, seemingly lost in thought.

He smelled like candy and cinnamon and engine grease, like old coffee and burnt wire, like stale sweat and sugar. It was familiar, in a way, bringing back painful images of a lab, of hands instead of paws, of a kind of satisfactory bone deep exhaustion. It makes his teeth itch. 

This boy makes his teeth itch, and the logical part of his brain knows he should be avoiding humans, staying away, but the deeper part of him is angry. Who is this person, and how dare he drag the past in behind him on the air. How dare he invade his territory like this.

The wolf watches and pretends that the human part of him, the buried, Harrison part of him, isn’t sharply curious.

Harrison watches, too.

He learns that the boy’s name is Cisco, that he’s an engineer. He learns that Cisco gets anxious, and he takes walks to calm himself. He learns that the people he drags with him sometimes are his friends, his co-workers.

His pack, thinks the wolf, and doesn’t look too deeply at the small part of him that is pleased that this Cisco doesn’t have to walk alone all the time.

Harrison doesn’t mind being a loner, but the wolf does. It gets harder to distinguish the two every day. A part of him wonders if he would have already slipped seamlessly into one if this frustratingly confusing boy hadn’t started ambling his way through his woods. 

His ears perk up when they talk about him. Not him, of course, but who he used to be.

“You know the explosion a few years ago?” It was the scrawny one who never stopped moving.

“What, at STAR Labs? The one that nearly leveled a city block? The one that killed seven people? That explosion?”

Harrison bit back a whine at the thought of it.

The scrawny one (Barry, his mind supplied) simply rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, that explosion.”

“What about it?” Cisco kicked at a rock as they walked down the trail.

“That girl, the Wells girl. She woke up from her coma today.”

Harrison froze. Jesse.  Jesse was alive. His daughter was alive.

“Who, Jesse?”

“Yeah. Apparently, she’s gonna be ok.”

“That’s good news, man. Kinda sucks that her dad went missing and all that, though. You think we should send flowers or something? I almost worked there, before everything went to shit for them.”

“That’d be nice, man. Kinda creepy, though, considering we’re two dudes she’s never met.”

“Fair enough,” Cisco laughs, and kicks the rock into the bushes that border the trail. It rolls through and comes to a halt at Harrison’s paws, but he doesn’t notice it. He doesn’t notice anything.

My daughter is alive.

For the first time in three years he tries desperately to take his human form. 

It takes hours, every bone in his body twists and snaps into place, grinding painfully into a new shape as he howls and howls, but when it’s done, Harrison sits crouched panting in the small cave he called home.

First he needs to find clothes. Then he needs to find Jesse. The wolf in him whines at the order of his list, but Harrison is in charge of himself again. He needs clothes or he won’t be able to see his daughter, and it’s that simple.

Luckily, it’s night time, and it’s simple enough to snatch some jeans and a hoodie off a clothesline. Serves them right for trying to dry their clothes in the dark, anyway.

He slips into her hospital room, quiet as anything past their laughable security and overworked nurses, and his breath catches in his throat.

She’s asleep, pale and still, and the hospital gown she’s wearing makes her look washed out, but it’s her. It’s Jesse. 

Harrison walks slowly to the bed, afraid even now that she’ll disappear, that this will be a dream. He reaches his hand out tentatively, softly stroking his fingers down her face.

Jesse.

Her eyes open slowly, blearily, and a small fond grin fights it’s way onto his face. How often had he woken her up for school, just to be greeted with this same expression?

“Dad?”

“Hey, Quick.”

His voice is hoarse from years of disuse and emotion, but neither of them care. She throws herself into a sitting position and squeezes his ribs so hard he can’t breathe. He’s never felt happier in his life.

~

Of course, it’s not as simple as that. Harrison has been missing for 3 years. He has to fabricate excuses, catch up on paperwork, do a press conference, make explanation after explanation but...

But...

Jesse is alive. It’s worth it. He isn’t fighting with his wolf anymore, isn’t eating rabbits and chipmunks. He lives in a house. He’s distressingly close to normal. 

It makes him antsy, after the first month or so. Jesse’s home, he has his company back, but he’s bored. He got used to indulging his animal side completely, and being human, as always, took effort.

So when Jesse mentions jogging as part of her physical therapy, he doesn’t hesitate to offer to come with her. He wants to show her his woods, his life for the past three years. He wants to run over his former territory with his daughter, let her see the streams he used to drink from and the cave he slept in. He wants her to know.

Hell, part of him even wanted to catch a rabbit. Old habits die hard.

They start at the beginning of the trail, stretching lazily in the morning sun, before beginning an easy gentle lope through the trees. Nothing too hard just yet, pacing themselves.

An easy laugh rings out through the woods from ahead. He recognizes the voice.

“Cisco,” he mutters. Of course he would be here.

“What?” Jesse asks, looking at him confused.

“Cisco. An engineer who walks here sometimes. When I got bored I would watch him.” He shrugs and jogs on, content to let it go.

“So like. Wolf you got bored and started stalking some dude?”

“It wasn’t stalking. It was watching. He smelled familiar, I was curious.”

She scoffs and rolls her eyes. “That sounds like you. ‘Hmm, this boy smells like science, better check him out!’ You’re ridiculous, Dad.”

He shrugs again, letting the teasing banter roll over him. The laughter is getting closer. They turn a corner in the trail, and there he is. Jogging with the woman who smells like antiseptic and coffee. Harrison can’t remember her name, and he finds he doesn’t have the will power to try.

Because Cisco is wearing the shortest, brightest red shorts he has ever seen in his life. ‘Are you nasty?’ is posted across the back in big white letters.

“Ok,” Jesse whispers, “I get why you were watching him now.”

“Jesse!” he hisses, eyes shooting back to his daughter. 

“What? It’s not like I can look away either!”

Harrison suppresses his growl. 

“It wasn’t like that. We wolves don’t notice clothes much, you know that.”

“Trust me, Dad. I’ve seen what you wear. I know.” She smirks at him, teasing out a sigh.

“Can we just jog in peace, please?”

She tilts her head thoughtfully.

“Hmmmmmmmmnope!”

She puts on a burst of speed and runs to catch up to the other two, ignoring her father’s panicked whisper shouting.

“Hi,” he hears her say, “I’m Jesse!”

“I know who you are,” comes the familiar voice, tinged by awe. “I’m Cisco, it’s. It’s nice to meet you.”

She shakes his hand, grinning.

“Nice to meet you too. Fan of my dad’s?” Don’t look at her, Harrison, it’s what she wants. For the love of god don’t look at him either.

“I mean, yeah, you could say that. Harrison Wells was my hero! Until. You know. The accident.”

“Yeah,” Jesse agrees quietly.

“I was glad to hear you woke up okay, by the way. I was gonna send flowers, but my friend pointed out that it might come off as kinda creepy.”

Her smile changes, slides just a touch more to genuine.

“That’s sweet. Thank you. Speaking of my dad, he should be catching up soon...”

He’s glad his daughter lived, because he’s going to kill her. Sighing, he runs up to join her.

“Hello.”

If Cisco looked at his daughter with awe, the gaze he meets is nigh unto worship. The wolf reminds him that there is a perfectly good cave not far from here, warm and dry and very clothing optional. Harrison tells it to shut up.

“Hi. You’re Harrison Wells.”

“Yes,” he agrees.

“You solved Einstein’s Riddle when you were a kid.”

“Did I?” He keeps his tone light and teasing. Not a threat, he tries to convey with his eyes and his smile and his hands, definitely don’t have claws or fangs, didn’t think of dragging you into the woods to slam you against a tree five seconds ago.

It seems to work. Cisco smiles at him, a faint blush high on his cheeks.

“Sorry, hi. I’m Cisco.”

“Cisco. Its very nice to meet you.”

A wave of giddy joy rushes off the boy, tinged with admiration and just a touch of lust.

Well then.

“I like your shorts.”

The blush gets deeper, and Jesse snickers before going back to talking to whatever her name was.

Cisco still smells like candy and engine grease, and when he laughs Harrison feels his fingers twitch.

Cave, the wolf reminds him desperately, with rabbits!

Harrison ignores it.

“Would you, uh. Would you guys wanna jog with us?”

“Sure!” he says, maybe a touch too fast.

“Cool!” Cisco beams. “Cool.”

They pick up their jogging again, all keeping a steady pace. Harrison watches him run ahead, ridiculous shorts and long soft hair.

His teeth itch.

[peter-pan-hoe]

Pan’s Pet pt3

Reader is a omega werewolf (teenwolf style) and being young and pack-less, she is taken to Neverland by the shadow. But things aren’t much better than home.

Warnings: none

masterlist

part 2

I stayed in my cage for about half an hour, gnawing at my cuff before I decided to go check out the fire the lost boys were at.

Upon accepting that the cuff wasn’t going to come off I crawled out of my cage and walked off in the same direction the boys always come and go from.

A few minutes of aimless walking and i began hearing laughter and voices, as well as smell smoke. I was only a few meters from the edge of their camp.

The fact that I had to be so close to smell or hear this place made me tear up a little.

I pushed my way through some bushes as I wiped the tears away with my sleeve.

All the boys stopped talking or dancing. They all stared at me in shock. A few reached for their weapons, some backed up. Felix and a few of the bigger ones had their weapons draw and they were ready to charge me.

   “Calm down boys,” I heard Pan’s voice but I couldn’t see him. “That’s enough,”

   “But the mutt is out of it’s cage,” Felix said with a sneer.

   “I said enough!” Pan shouted. I found where his voice was coming from. 

He stood from where he was sitting on a log on the other side of the fire. The flames obscured my view of him a little.

   “I let her out,” he said calmly with a few complaints and questions from a number of boys.

He walked around the fire so i could see him properly and held out a cup of something. 

   “Come drink with us,” he said.

I slowly walked passed a few boys so I could get to Pan and accept the drink. It smelled of black current juice and some kind of alcohol. Rum?

   “Two things,” I started. “One, Where did you get the booze? And two, I can’t get drunk,”

   “We nicked it from pirates that visit every now and then,” he said settling back down on the log by the fire. “And your powers are blocked by my cuff so yes you can,”

I sat down next to him, sensing a few disgruntled stares but I ignored them. I looked at him sideways, still not trusting him. 

   “Why are you only now being nice to me?” I asked quietly. “It’s been over an entire moon cycle and you never once even hinted at caring so forgive me if i don’t believe you,”

   “Like I said before,” he paused to take a sip of his drink. “I look after all these lost boys. You don’t have to trust me just yet, it’s okay,”

   “Do I have to stay in my cage?” I asked carefully.

   “No that’s why I let you out,” he looked at me confused.

   “I mean like when I sleep and stuff,” I put my cup on the ground by my feet, not trusting the contents. “Can I make a tent or something?”

   “You already have one,” he said plainly, picking up my cup and drinking from it. 

   “What?” I eyed him questioningly.

   “I made one for you just a minute ago,” He gestured to a tent a small distance from the others, hidden slightly by trees and bushes.

   “How did you do that so fast?” I asked.

   “Magic, duh,” he nudged my shoulder with his making me flinch away.

   “Sorry,” he said. “I got too comfortable,”

   “It just surprised me, that’s all,” I shook my head at his apology. “Is that tent really for me?”

he nodded, then stood and gestured for me to follow him.

He lead me to the tent which was a lot bigger once closer. I would definitely be able to stand upright inside.

Something didn’t feel right.

   “Why do all this if you’ve kept me locked in a cage for a month and a half?” I looked at him sideways.

   “I understand you’re cautious,” he lit the lantern that was hanging from the wooden door frame. “What can I do to show you I’m trust worthy?”

I held up my cuffed wrist. “Take this off for starters,”

He looked hesitant, but stepped forward and took hold of my hand, examining the teeth marks in the cuff.

   “I see you already tried that,” he chuckled lightly. “I don’t keep it on to make you vulnerable, I keep it on so the boys feel safer. They know you’re more powerful than they are,”

   “I’m not going to hurt a bunch of children,” I said quietly. “What i did to those hunters was half self preservation half loss of control due to the moon. I have control when the moon isn’t full,”

He looked at me like he was considering it.

   “Just please take it off,” I begged. “I don’t like feeling like this. Felix terrifies me and unless i have my power I can’t defend against him. You can put the cuff back on during the full moon, just please, please, take it off,”

Pan was quiet for a long time. but then he nodded.

He waved his hand over my wrist and the cuff disappeared.

Almost straight away my eyes shifted.

I gasped and stumbled back a little as my power rushed through me.

   “Are you okay?” he asked carefully, holding his hand out as if ready to catch me if i fell.

   “I’ve missed this,” I felt a smile creeping up on my face. “Where can I get that drink?”

Pan and I sat by the fire, laughing and drinking for a while, constantly getting odd looks from the boys.

After maybe an hour, one of the boys, maybe 15 came up to us and asked if he could ask me some questions.

   “What kind of questions?” I asked in return.

   “Just stuff about you and your powers,” he sat down on the ground in front of me. “Can I or not?”

   “You can ask but depending on the question I might not answer,” I shrugged. “But first whats your name?”

   “This is Alfie,” Pan said.

   “Thanks but I asked him,” I smiled at Alfie. “What are your questions?”

   “Well the first one is what actually are you?” he said very quickly.

   “No one told you?” I looked at Pan, confused and surprised. “I’m a werewolf,”

   “Oh cool,” he looked excited. 

What a little nerd. I laughed to myself.

   “Can I see your teeth?” he leant forward a little as he asked quietly.

   “Uhm,” I was a little surprised by this. I just decided to be honest. “Maybe some day. But I haven’t fully shifted in over a month so I want to give it a bit of time. Is that okay?”

   “Yeah I guess,” he looked disappointed. “Is there anything you can do that is okay?”

I looked at Pan and he nodded, encouraging me.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I felt them shift from (y/e/c) to their bright blue as I opened them and looked at Alfie.

He gave a small gasp but smiled like a kid with a science project. He wasn’t scared. He was curious.

   “THAT IS AWESOME!” he shouted, startling a number of lost boys, including myself.

   “Aha thanks,” I laughed. I looked around at the boys nervously and the all averted their gazes.

   “Alright,” Pan suddenly stood up. “Time for bed everyone,”

A few grumbles were heard from the boys but they all trudged off towards their tents and little huts.

I also stood and headed to my own tent after saying goodnight to Alfie and watching him jog away to his hut.

   “You didn’t end up looking inside your tent, did you?” Pan asked.

   “Nah not yet,” I shook my head. “Is there anything fancy in there I should be aware of? Chains, traps, monkshood?”

   “Monkshood?” he repeated, tilting his head to the side questioningly.

   “Don’t worry it’s just a flower I don’t like,” I chuckled at my own little joke, slightly thankful he didn’t know what I was talking about.

   “Uhm alright then…” he sighed with a slight laugh at the end. “There’s no traps or anything, unless Felix has decided to sabotage the place I made for you. Which I doubt he would unless he wants to add to his scar collection,”

I looked at him in surprise. “You gave him that scar?”

   “He pissed me off,” he shrugged.

   “Remind me not to do that then,” I mumbled.

   “Anyway I should show you around your tent,” he tugged aside the door flap and ushered me inside.

It was a lot more roomy than I was expecting. As I had assumed, it was plenty tall enough for me to stand up straight inside. The fabric that made the tent was a deep red. Against the far wall was a floor level cot-type bed made up of a mattress surrounded by a wooden frame and a pile of pillows and blankets stacked neatly at the foot. Next to the bed was a chest of draws sporting a lantern. There were only 2 drawers and they were only a foot wide but I didn’t have anything to put in them so I guess I was good for storage. There was about 4ft of space in the middle of the room and another lantern hung from the middle framework.

   “Do you like it?” Pan’s voice came from behind me, he sounded nervous.

   “It’s nice,” I said quietly. “Cosy,”

   “You’re allowed to say if you don’t like it,” he stepped beside me so he could see my face. “I can whip up something else if you’d prefer,”

   “It’s nice and cosy,” I turned to him and smiled reassuringly. “I like it,”

   “Okay, well… good,” he nodded to himself. “Sleep well Y/N,”

He left my tent quietly and I listened to him walk away until I heard the door of his tree house creak closed.

I tuned in to the other sounds around the camp and heard a few boys murmuring things, some were sleeping quietly, some were snoring.

I grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around myself as the cold night air was harsh when away from the fire, and I went and sat outside on the ground by the opening to my tent. Simply listening to the island.

In my head I listed of the pros and cons of today.

Pros: I was free of my cage, Pan seemed genuinely trust worthy and the stars were bright on Neverland with no light pollution.

Cons: Felix was terrifying, I am to nervous to fully shift since I’m a month and a bit out of practice, no way to connect to the internet.

Oh well. The pros out weight the cons.

Living here would be interesting.

NEXT CHAPTER