#like. this is the cat that has one darker brown foot because his mother also had that darker brown foot.

[fallenclan]

**FC IM GOING TO LOSE MY FUCKING MARBLES.** GOD... GOD!!!! CYCLES!!!

LEOPARD ANON HOLY FUCKING SHIT. TAKING THIS IN MY JAWS. SPECULATION INCOMING - TAKING A BIT TO TYPE. HAVE YET TO VOTE. SPINNING IT IN MY HEAD A BIT.

Notably, interestingly, maybe - Otterslip is the son of a former leader and a respected deputy, the former apprentice of the current deputy, and by all accounts a good mentor. I feel like he'd be seen as a fairly respected warrior. If this *did* come to light? I think it would shake up the clan very, very badly. Expose a rot growing in the core of their clan - not only that, but in the heart of a well-respected, and more importantly, well-beloved warrior. I could go on a whole tangent here about how evil is not something black and white and how people are flawed and how it is SO delightfully interesting to have someone like Otter who we've known and loved so long do something like this. Because this *doesn't* cancel out the rest of that, he's still that cat who's adored, who's suffered hardship and helped others weather it, who comforted his apprentice when she felt unworthy.

And he still killed someone - a *medicine cat,* of his own clan - because he felt he had a right to, and he felt it was deserved. And because his mother did the same, moons and moons ago. He lashed out in pain and fury and a refusal to face the truth, and did something horrible and irreversible for it.

Hm. Still typing what I actually meant to send. But I can hand you this speculation, at least, without the research.

- What do you think Scorchstar felt, looking down at this? Regret? Not even for her actions, necessarily, I doubt things between her and Sunwish will ever be truly okay in the stars, but for the *precedent* they set? For what her son, who's grown so well in her absence, but never abandoned his soft-hearted, unerring belief in his mother, took from it? She's clearer of mind, up here. Does she dread the results of his actions?

- Do you think clouds covered the sky, overlooking them on that cliff-face? A storm that may have been brewing in the distance all day, coming to fruit above them in deadly silence? Do you think Otterslip cared about the eyes upon him - about Silverpelt's doubtless disapproval? Or did he wait to act in the sun's scornful gaze, instead?

- Do you think it rained, on his walk back? Sorry I've just got the image of like. A three day storm, or something, just enough to haunt him. Starclan's wrath or a mournful goodbye or the insistence of a truth that refuses to go unheard. All three, maybe, depending on who you ask... I wonder if it would wash away the blood, or not.

- How Sunwish felt, looking down...

- .

- I think it's a feeling she remembers all too well.

SORRY. Normal. & DO NOT EXPECT YOU TO HAVE ANSWERS TO ALL OF THESE (head in hands embarrassed) HAHA KNOW IT IS BUT LITTLE PIXEL GAME... BUT TH!! MAN. GOD. CIRCLES...

(fun fact. Every medicine cat since Sunwish, sans Eaglestripe, has been at some point righteous.) (- 🐈‍⬛)

LITERALLY ALL OF THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! like. i absolutely adore the moral grayness of it all. and the fucking Parallels..... cant articulate my thoughts all that well rn but like. i am Thinking about the stuff with Otterslip being a cat that We Watched Grow Up!!!!!! we saw him as a little baby cat and we saw him become an apprentice and then a warrior and we saw him love and lose and grow and. he fuckin whips around and murders??? and . idk i'm Thinking. i had to look back to all the old art of him and it's like. this is a murderer. he murdered someone.

[greekstar]

MY KITTENS ARE DONE!

Meet the 5 kit litter who belongs to my oc Lambcry! Who I will be posting soon. All these kittens are so different in so many ways. I love it. Their father is Mushroomstar if none of you guys knew that. Who is evil.

I won’t get into their backstories here but I will post them individually in my GreekstarAu Blog! So go check that out.

-The first born is Sycamorekit! Becoming Sycamoreheart later on. He is probably the most different of his littermates, inheriting his grandfather’s, Pirateclaw’s blue eyes. He is a dark gray tom with brown lighter faded tabby points and has a spiky fur (his fur grows in later as he grows)- Warrior/traitor to Thornclan. Becoming mates with a Willowclan she-cat and later joining.

-the second is Mosskit! Becoming Mossflower or Mossleaf- honestly I can’t decide yet lol. She is honestly beautiful and I can’t believe I made her🥹 she’s a white she-cat with silver tabby points. She also has pale, light diluted brown tabby markings on her face and a long stripe down her back along with a brown tabby tabby as well! And of course has purple eyes like her mother. - warrior before becoming an apprentice (wasn’t able to cause of her sister but now that Cloud decided to become a warrior, Mossflower/leaf took a step and became a medicine cat.

-The third, Pinekit! Becoming Pinefang and then later being renamed Pinefoot(He was named ‘Fang’ as a reminder to his father but when Lambcry rebuilt Hawthornclan, now Thornclan, she renames him ‘foot’ for his swiftness and skill in just everything. Not to mention has dark brown foots lol) he does train in the dark forest with Sycamoreheart as apprentices and later Warriors before leaving. That’s all ima say. He’s a brown tabby with darker tufts and points and a lighter belly with amber eyes with a hint of purple. - A warrior who later becomes deputy.

-the fourth! Oakkit who becomes Oakface! He’s a light brown Tom with darker tabby points and amber eyes. He also has a torbie patches tail after his father, Mushroomstar. He has amber-orange eyes along with some white on his eyes. - Always and forever a warrior.

-and lastly the fifth kit! Cloudkit who later becomes Cloudblossom! She is blind if you can’t tell lol. This is seen as a punishment from starclan for having kits with one of the biggest threats Starclan and the forest had ever seen. Though she was born blind because of her genetics- she is probably going to be that one cat that is so quiet and observant that she seems like a Starclan cat watching the clans. - Was a medicine cat but become a warrior after joining her mother in Thornclan. Still has a connection to Starclan that no other cat understands.

[bookclubtime]

Foxclaw’s Fight (P3,Ch 1)

Foxkit's eyes flew open, the confusion from her dream threatening to overwhelm her. She had finally met her father!

Foxkit crawled out of her mother's nest, the warm, milky scents of the nursery flooding her nostrils. She stretched the sore feeling from her legs and blinked away sleep. Emberkit slept nearby with his littermates, Frostkit, Twigkit, and Darkkit snoring loudly around him. Emberkit was younger than Foxkit and she was determined to wake before him at dawn only for the satisfaction of his stumbling when she awoke him to go out and play. She scrambled over her sister, Briarkit, who their mother Mistclaw, had named for the odd darker patterns on her rosey red tail. Briarkit let out a squeal of shock as Foxkit used thorn-sharp claws to grip her tail.

"What are you doing?" She mewed. "You should be sleeping!"

"Shhhhh!" Frustration pricked at Foxkit's pelt. "You'll wake everyone."

"Where are you going?" Briarkit's eyes were round and pleading. She began to knead her mother's nest with her forepaws, tossing up scraps of moss and bramble from the bedding and into Mistclaw's fur. Luckily, she didn't stirr and her breathing remained steady, her muffled snores echoing around the nursery. With so many kits in Leaf-bare, the bramble bush was crowded and there was no point in even trying to sleep in.

"Just... er..." Foxkit stuttered as a sparrow let out a call from a tree in the clearing, jerking her mind back into her sister's conversation. I'm too young to say I'm going to make dirt, and getting something from the fresh-kill pile at this time would sound crazy. "I was only going out to drink from Sandpuddle." Her fur grew hot, hoping she had sounded more certain than she thought. Emberkit had spoken to the elders about a puddle in the sandy clearing that supposedly never dried up, and Rainburr and Dovesplash had decided to name it the Sandpuddle. Foxkit let out a sigh of relief as Briarkit curled her little tail over her nose and closed her eyes. Foxkit stalked over the other kits and queens, until she reached the tiny scrap of brown fur -and the runt of the litter- Emberpaw. He was deep in sleep.

"Psst," Foxkit whispered, dangling her fluffy red tail in front of Emberkit's nose. "Emberkit!" After a few heartbeats, Emberkit let out a tiny sneeze and wearily lifted his head to face Foxkit, his green and yellow eyes glazed with sleep.

"What is it?" For a moment, he stared ignorantly into Foxkit's eyes, apprehension clouding his.

Kits are so stupid.

"Oh!" Emberkit exclaimed after what felt like seasons. "Sandpuddle or Stonefern's den?" Foxkit hadn't thought about where they were going to go.

I am stupid, aren't I?

She had told Briarkit she would go to the Sandpuddle for a drink. "Both!" She mewed triumphantly. Foxkit wasn't very good at making decisions and she knew it. "Sandpuddle first." Emberkit rose warily to his paws and Foxkit leaned closer to him to smooth a rogue tuft of fur from the top of his head. She could barely remember when she was younger than two moons old, but there were blurry images of Emberkit and his littermates being born. Foxkit had made a vow to StarClan that she would protect the youngest of Oakfur's kits. He didn't grow like Frostkit, Twigkit, or Darkkit. Darkkit was such an arrogant furrball. Once he had stolen a clump of moss from the elder's den and lied to poor Twigkit and Briarkit that it was a shrew he had caught. Twigkit was born blind, it seemed to be that way for every birth -That one kit would be born blind- but there was no explanation to why it happened. Foxkit was lucky she wasn't stuck with a sister who couldn't even see her own paws. Emberkit nudged her.

"Come on," He mewed. "Twigkit is waking up!" So what? Foxkit thought bitterly, It's not like she'll see us. But it would be mouse-brained to mention the blind she-kit to her superior brother. Foxkit would be soaked to the roots of her fur in water from Sandpuddle if she meowed her thoughts about Twigkit's unseeing ignorance.

When they had reached Sandpuddle, Foxkit's paws ached from the long walk across the camp. Her legs were still short and her body stumpy as every other kit in the nursery, though they were all growing too big for it. The sand around the little puddle was damp, and the musty water rippled as Foxkit's whiskers skimmed over it. While her face was less than a mouse-length away from the trembling puddle, Emberkit slammed his clumsy paws into it, splashing Foxkit's face. As she turned to face him, wanting to cuff him over the ears, she saw the young tom's face completely soaked along with hers, so instead she just peered into her reflection while he twitched his whiskers in amusement.

"Stupid furrball." She muttered, staring into her own gaze -which stared back at her- in the puddle. Foxkit looked just like her mother and somewhat like her sister. She had longer fur than Briarkit, though. Her long red fur was flowy and ran past her flank and stretched into belly fur that could nearly touch the sandy earth. She had light tannish white patches on her pelt above her muzzle, on her belly, and at the tip of her tail. Her tail was bushy, like a squirrel's, her back paws spattered with what looked rosey, almost like her sister's pelt. The splotches and patterns of her hind paws were also like the ones along her ears. Foxkit leaned further over the puddle, glancing at her bright green eyes, glad that Mistclaw was her mother. Mistclaw was a beautiful she-cat with reddish fur and a rosey belly with a long, bushy tail.

"Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the Highledge for a clan meeting!" Lionstar's familiar call rang around the clearing, sound bouncing off the rock walls of the hollow.

"Let's go!" Foxkit called over her shoulder to Emberkit, who began shifting his paws.

"But he said only cats old enough to catch their own prey." Emberkit pointed out. "We're not even allowed to leave the camp until we're apprentices." Foxkit rolled her eyes.

"Cleanpaw." She teased. Why did he always need to follow the rules? Mistclaw padded up to the two kits.

"Foxkit," She expected Mistclaw to give her a lecture about leaving the nursery so early, but instead, she looked up to the milky gray sky, the warriors of Silverpelt disappearing behind the horizon, and went on more firmly. "It is time." There was a hint of sadness in her mother's tone. "Let me groom your pelt."

Foxkit knew what was going to happen now. They were going to be apprenticed.

This wasn't the time to worry about a dream- or anything for that matter.

She pushed her meeting with Rockfoot to the back of her mind.

"Come on Emberkit!" She shouted as her mother lapped at the sandy water hanging off her ear fur. "We're going to be apprentices!" Foxkit had waited so long for her to be assigned a mentor. She was one step closer to being a warrior!

"Oh, my dear," Mistclaw soothed. "You're older than Emberkit by nearly two moons! He has a while to wait yet." Emberkit's tail drooped and he bowed his head. When her mother finally moved her paw, Foxkit scurried over to the foot of the highledge, feeling as if the sun shone brighter because of the fire that surged inside of her. Briarkit was trembling. What's she so afraid of? Foxkit wondered. This is the best day ever!

"Foxkit," Lionstar meowed. He didn't bother to beckon her forward because she had already raced in front of her sister. Foxkit couldn't help it, she was going to be a 'paw at last! "You have reached the age of six moons, and it is time for you to be apprenticed. From this moment, until you earn your warrior name, you will be known as-" Briarkit shifted her paws. She clearly wanted to go first, but instead of calling out, she stepped up to her sister so their pelts brushed. "Foxpaw. Your mentor will be Ravengaze. Briarkit, you have also reached your time to be apprenticed, and from this moment you will be known as Briarpaw. Your mentor will be Sunmask."

Ravengaze?! Why does Briarpaw get Sunmask and I get Ravengaze? He's so grumpy!

"Foxpaw! Briarpaw! Foxpaw! Briarpaw!" Mistclaw yowled loudly and the rest of the clan joined in, but Foxpaw could tell Emberkit had meowed her name first.

The newly named apprentices went to touch noses with their mentors as the clan cheered their new names. Ravengaze's eyes were filled with warmth. Surprised to find joy in the senior warrior, Foxpaw happily touched noses with him and rushed off to meet Emberkit, while Briarpaw went to see their mother.

"Emberkit!" Foxpaw called, running so fast she nearly barreled into him. "Isn't this great? When you're an apprentice, I'll cheer so loud StarClan will need to cover their ears!"

Emberkit frowned. "I want you and Briarki- Briarpaw back in the nursery!" He wailed. Foxpaw needed to think fast. She had never seen Emberkit so upset... He was just a kit afterall. So am I, Foxpaw felt a pang of guilt. I haven't even been an apprentice for a day and I'm already acting like I'm better than Emberkit!

"Don't worry!" Foxpaw mewed, her tail bushing up with exitement. "You'll be an apprentice soon enough, and then we can sleep in the same den again!"

"Really?" Emberkit's gaze softened, and he wiped his face with a feeble paw.

"Really!" Foxpaw let out an exasperated sigh. "I should go speak with my mother." As she padded away, she could feel Emberkit looking at her until she reached Mistclaw. Briarpaw was meowing on about their father.

"We're apprentices now! Can you tell us what happened to Rockfoot?" Briarpaw's tail curled up and her eyes widened pleadingly. Foxpaw was hit with her own stupidity. I forgot to ask! That wasn't the only reason Foxpaw was upset with Briarpaw's pleading. Foxpaw hated when she changed her face to look like the most desperate kit in the forest. She could wrap almost any cat in the clan around her tail.

"Can't you enjoy your first day as apprentices?"

Foxpaw was sick of this conversation. Mistclaw was right; they should just enjoy the day and not worry about dead cats.  Deliberately, she changed the subject. "Will you come with us, Mistclaw? We're going to see the forest, aren't we?"

"Of course!" A deep meow came from behind her. Foxpaw spun around to see Ravengaze, his sleek black fur well-groomed and his eyes shining. Before Foxpaw could think, she flinched away. If he had noticed, he showed no sign of it. Instead, he flicked his tail towards the thorn barrier.

"Where will we go first?" The new understanding warmth in Ravengaze's eyes made a surge of pride shoot through Foxpaw. She was glad she got such an experienced warrior as a mentor.

"We'll be touring the territory." Ravengaze announced, dipping his head so that his eyes met Foxpaw's.

"Mind if me and Briarpaw tag along?" The voice of Sunmask made Foxpaw spin around in surprise. Briarpaw had her ears pricked now, her tail fluffed out.

"Sure." Ravengaze's level mew made Foxpaw keep herself calm instead of bursting with excitement like she wanted to.

Briarpaw turned to Foxpaw, her eyes wide. "We're going to leave camp together! For the first time!" Foxpaw's excitement faded. Her sister was too eager. She would be pulling her tail and meowing on the whole time.

"Are we both going the same way?" Foxpaw asked carefully, trying not to offend her littermate. "I mean, surely all of us going the same way will scare the prey back into their holes."

"We aren't hunting prey!" Ravengaze mewed. Turning to Mistclaw he added with a twitch of his whiskers. "I remember when I was this excited for being an apprentice..." His voice trailed off, as if looking at memories play out before him.

"Do you now?" Sunmask purred. "I doubt you know your way around the territory you old cat!" Ravengaze let out a rasping purr and gestured for the apprentices to follow them to the thorn barrier. Foxpaw's disappointment was washed away by a flood of joy. I'm an apprentice. She thought happily. I'm going to leave camp... I'll be the best warrior ever!

"I'll make you a nest while you're out." Came a peppy distracted mew. Why did everyone want to talk to Briarpaw and not Foxpaw? "If- if that's okay with you." Foxpaw turned to see Brightpaw, not talking to Briarpaw, but to her.

"Er, yeah, thanks." Foxpaw scurried out of camp to get away from any more questions and padded alongside her mentor through the forest.

"Can we hunt?" Briarpaw had been nagging just as Foxpaw had expected.

"Not today." Ravengaze would reply. Sunmask would just pad on, tasting the air every few steps, as if she didn't even have an apprentice.

"Can you smell that?" Sunmask mewed. It had been so long since she'd spoken, Foxpaw had forgotten what her meow sounded like.

"Prey?" Briarpaw whispered. Ravengaze frowned.

"So no?" He meowed. "This is ShadowClan territory."

"Oh."

"It's fine," Ravengaze mewed. "Just remember the scent. Foul isn't it?"

"ShadowClan smells yucky!" Foxpaw hissed.

"I'm sure they don't like our scent either." Sunmask tasted the air again. This time Foxpaw smelled it too.... Mouse! She had smelled it on the fresh-kill pile before. Foxpaw instinctively dropped into hunter's crouch. She knew it by heart from when Poppyspots had taught her and Emberkit. She shuffled her paws, moving forward as lightly and silently as she could, keeping her tail still and her ears pricked. She was only a couple of tail-lengths away when... Snap! A twig had crackled under her weight, and the mouse was back into its burrow.

"That crouch was perfect!" Ravengaze purred. "I'll make a warrior out of you yet."

"But she didn't catch it!" Sunmask protested. "If it were perfect, she would have a mouse in her jaws." She snorted and padded off.

"There was nothing wrong with your crouch." Ravengaze turned to Foxpaw, dipping his head. "Tempers are short in leaf-bare, and I think she wishes her apprentice had tried to catch it." Foxpaw's spirits lifted. I'll catch you next time! She vowed. The trees soon thinned out, leaving a giant stretch of grassy hills of coarse dirt and springy grass.

"Is this WindClan?" Briarpaw mewed, her eyes wide with astonishment. "Where do they sleep if they don't have any trees or brambles?"

"StarClan knows!" Sunmask rolled her eyes. "Those rabbit chasers probably live in badger sets."

"We sleep under our warrior ancestors." A deep voice rasped on the other side of Sunmask.

Ravengaze swung his head around. "What are you doing?" He demanded, turning his head to protect his apprentice. Foxpaw peeked around his dark gray fur. A slender brown tom stood behind him, his ears twitching and his expression unreadable.

"Defending my territory." The tom replied coolly. "You have, after all, crossed our border." Foxpaw searched where her patrol had put their paws. When she looked down at her own, she saw them in the middle of the ice that had frozen the stream. Foxpaw was surprised she hadn't learned her lesson of watching where she put her paws.

"Actually, we haven't." Foxpaw ventured, fluffing out her tail indignantly. "My paws aren't anywhere near the other side of the stream." She looked back down at her paws. Was that true? Did WindClan have a claim over the stream?

"Brave little one." The tom stepped forward on the ice so he was nose to nose with Foxpaw. His breath was rank on her muzzle but she tried not to flinch away. "First time out, eh?"

"Leave my apprentice alone and get back to that heather klump you call a nest." Ravengaze stepped between the tom and his apprentice, digging his claws into the ice. The WindClan tom backed away, his fur bristling.

"You step one paw over the border and I'll shred you." He turned tail and pelted across the moor. Foxpaw stepped away from the stream, her mind whirling. Why were the clans so mean to each other? Wouldn't it be better if they could all share territory in leaf-bare so they could all have enough prey?

"If he's so defensive and strong, why didn't he fight us? I'd've shred him!" Ravengaze lashed his tail.

"Let's get back to camp." Sunmask drew in a deep breath. "Maybe we can catch some prey on the way back."

"I'm going to get that mouse!" Foxpaw yowled, turning back to the forest.

"Not if I catch it first!" Briarpaw leaped in front of her and padded away toward a bramble bush. "What's that smell?"

"I know it!" Foxpaw was sure she had scented this on the fresh-kill pile. "Thrush!" She paused, glancing back at her mentor. "How do we catch a thrush?"

Ravengaze dropped into a crouch, putting his weight back on his haunches. Instinctively, Foxpaw dropped down beside him, trying to copy his form. Her mentor stretched forward, moving stiffly as though not to let the leaves and twigs crackle beneath his jet-black paws. Foxpaw stared up at him, her eyes wide and pleading. She had to catch this one. At last, Ravengaze nodded, and Foxpaw crept toward her prey. Briarpaw was crouching nearby, practicing for hunting shrews. Foxpaw already knew it, so she didn't bother listening to Sunmask meowing on about how to get something out of its burrow. The thrush was closer now, on the other side of a short juniper bush, pecking at the round blue berries. Foxpaw was only a tail-length away now. She could leap. She could catch it!

[simpleidiotpsychic]

Serizawa Week Ficlet #2: Power

@serizawaweek2019

Day 2: Gen. Tome learns the true extent of Serizawa’s powers.

AO3 Link

“Fuck,” Reigen wheezed.

It occurred to Tome in that moment that he didn’t usually swear in front of her. She’d assumed he just never swore in general, but now she had a flash of suspicion that he consciously chose to wash his mouth out around her and Mob.

What the hell, Reigen. She was 17, not a baby.

But this thought came and went very quickly because they were both currently running for their lives, and that was a more pressing issue to attend to.

The forest around them bent with a cracking and snapping of trees, like they were wrenching their own roots out of the ground. It was only a little farther until she and Reigen made it back to the village at the edge of this cursed woods, but the sun was blotted out by a mass of darkness chasing after them. At this rate it would catch up to their heels in no time.

Tome had abandoned her dress shoes to run better, and her socks were absolutely sloshing with mud. She wasn’t used to running in a suit either. Since this was the first weekend job they’d allowed her on, she thought she’d put on the charms and prove herself as a useful marketer, fashion and all. She wanted more experiences that could actually be put on a college application when the time came, and maybe she’d been a little inspired by Reigen’s general getup as well. But now even the memory of how snazzy she’d felt earlier was a little bitter with how much the nice blazer weighed her down. At least a suit was better than her school skirts for running, but her tie kept flapping around her head like it was trying to attack her face.

She didn’t want to die looking so stupid. Least of all with Reigen.

“Fuck fuck fuck!” he was spouting like a mantra, stumbling out of the way of a falling log. He threw his arm across Tome’s back--either to keep spurring her onward or to shield her from something, she didn’t have time to check--and then the whole earth heaved under them, throwing them up into the air. Something grabbed her before she fell back down again. The world spun and jerked around. Then she found herself hanging upsidedown with her legs held fast by something itchy like ivy. She blew her tie and her hair out of her mouth. The darkness had caught up with them and she couldn’t see a thing.

“Reigen-san!”

“I’m working on it!” came his voice from beside her, but she wouldn’t be surprised if he was similarly confined.

Well. They’d lost.

“My mom’ll never forgive me if I die!” she yelled, and the darkness grew thicker, suffocating. It was like she could feel it sticking to the insides of her lungs. This wasn’t even supposed to be a real exorcism! It was supposed to be a networking event!

“Your mom will never forgive me, she practically murdered me just because you lost your uniform’s tie--”

“It was your fault for not going down that sewer after it--”

“Are you telling me you’d gladly wear a sewer tie?”

“You’re the worst!”

“I know! Shut up!”

Then all of the sudden the darkness exploded in a blinding wash of purple. The awfulness constricting in Tome’s lungs shriveled up into nothing and she gulped in good, fresh, warm air and blinked into sudden sunlight.

She was hanging in the air not by possessed trees now, but instead by Serizawa’s psychic powers. He had both hands extended toward them. Reigen was weirdly sideways and looking irritable.

“Just in time, Serizawa,” he said, spitting out a leaf.

Serizawa smiled a little, but looked worn out and worried.

He gently tilted them both upright and then floated them to the ground, depositing them lightly on their feet. Tome stood there for a moment, breathing deeply and trying to think of a joke, but then the shock wore off and she realized where she was standing.

Serizawa had not just exorcised the evil entity of this woods. He’d reduced the trees surrounding them to nothing but splinters in an instant. A huge circle was leveled to a fine powder around them, indistinguishable browns and greens all trampled down together, as if there hadn’t been a forest here at all within ten meters.

Tome was stunned. It was more power than she had ever seen Serizawa use.

He was still thrumming with it, a certain intensity in his eyes that wasn’t usually there, a leftover energy radiating from him.

It maybe frightened her a little, how very powerful he was.

Reigen seemed to sense something, because he stepped his way through the rubble and laid a hand on Serizawa’s shoulder.

“Just in time,” he repeated, in an oddly comforting way. “Good work, Serizawa.”

Serizawa seemed to shake off his darker mood and his smile became more genuine.

“You two really need to be more careful,” he chastised.

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

Tome had done some research. She knew that Serizawa Katsuya, perhaps one of the most powerful espers in Seasoning City, had not just popped up out of nowhere.

What could she say? She was a conspiracy theorist at heart. Just out of her own interest she’d been poring over news footage and Youtube cellphone videos of the terrorists who tried to take over the world just over a year ago, and she’d spotted an umbrella among them that made a sick feeling coil in her stomach. After that shock, she’d had to stop prying for about a week or so. It felt like she’d seen something private, something twisted.

But she was always too curious for her own good. She couldn’t stay away from it.

She went to the internet and found a tiny local newspaper story about a boy twenty years ago who hurt four other kids and his own mother in an accident. The story didn’t supply details on the nature of the accident, but it did supply a name.

Serizawa Katsuya.

She started grilling Mob, who to his credit lasted a very long time before he finally caved under peer pressure.

“Serizawa-san has had a hard life,” he said simply. “He drew the attention of cruel people.”

“Tell me about Claw,” she demanded.

So he did. She could tell he was leaving out important details, probably for Serizawa’s sake, but she couldn’t blame him for that. She felt a horrible guilt even asking in the first place, like she was betraying Serizawa and everything he’d done for her.

But she was always too curious. She needed to know.

She’d known for awhile now.

She knew Serizawa Katsuya was powerful, so powerful that he was actually quite dangerous.

And sometimes she didn't know what to do with that.

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

They still had a ways to walk to get back to the village. It would probably take some explaining to tell the villagers why their local forest had a giant hole in it now, but they’d surely be relieved to hear that their evil spirit problem had been greatly reduced.

Reigen talked too much as they walked, like he always did, and Serizawa quietly chuckled off and on. Tome was a little distracted. She’d lost her shoes after all, and now she just felt kind of foolish for dressing like a professional when she was really so over her head all the time.

Also her ankle hurt. A lot.

She must have twisted it or something. It kept shooting pain all the way up her calf to her knee, until she was limping to avoid putting pressure on it. It was just turning out to be an unexpectedly shitty day.

“Are you alright, Kurata-san?”

Tome stopped and looked up. Serizawa had appeared beside her, his eyebrows just slightly creased with worry.

“It’s just my leg…” she mumbled, feeling weirdly embarrassed. Or maybe it was more like ashamed.

Ashamed for knowing. Ashamed for being scared, even for a moment.

“Can I look at it for you?” he asked.

She sat there on the ground and he knelt in front of her, like a knight in front of a queen, and gently rolled her nasty mud sock off her foot. He pressed her heel between thumb and forefinger. It kind of made her think of getting help from her dad when she was little, when she scraped her knee or something. Even now she was still young enough to get that treatment sometimes, if she hurt herself badly enough and her dad was there. If the timing was just right. He was a good dad, all things considered.

Serizawa’s fingers were big but careful, barely touching her unless they had to test something, and then they were firm and sure.

“Does this hurt?” he asked, laying his palm on the bottom of her muddy foot and pushing up slowly.

“No-- not yet-- YEP there it is.”

Reigen hovered over them with a calculating look, but she had a feeling he was just bullshitting because he wasn’t sure how to be actually useful at the moment.

“It’s not broken, but…” Serizawa frowned. “Well. My powers aren’t really good for healing,” he said quietly.

Only destroying things.

She thought maybe she spotted a hint of sadness in him because of that, and she again felt ashamed.

“That’s ok,” she said lamely.

He turned, still kneeling, and patted his back. “Want a ride?” he asked.

She couldn’t help but laugh because it was so ridiculous. They were both still wearing suits. It looked so stupid.

“A ride would be great,” she said.

She climbed up on his back and he looped his arms under her knees and stood. Reigen was sneering at them. But Tome liked this, honestly. She perched her hands on Serizawa’s shoulders and sneered right back because hey she was taller than Reigen now so fuck you Reigen.

Also Serizawa’s back was warm, and she could feel a sturdiness behind her, like he was holding her in place ever so gently with his powers as well, to make sure she didn’t fall.

You’re really powerful aren’t you, Serizawa-san?

But like Mob he didn’t see a usefulness in psychic powers. In the sort of powers that could level trees and take over the world.

He instead saw usefulness in carrying someone on his back, very carefully, making sure they didn’t fall. In having gentle hands.

She remembered what he’d told her about finding out for herself what skills were important to her, and doing her best to put those out into the world. She decided that Serizawa was doing a really good job.

She luxuriated against his back like a queen, or maybe more like a cat who’d stolen her owner’s dinner.

“This is so much fucking better,” she declared.

Reigen’s head whipped around at the swear with the most alarmed look she’d ever seen.

[dwindledglow]

001. MEET JULES

FULL NAME: jules antoine beauchamp. PREFERRED NAME: jules. NICKNAME/S: jul. DATE OF BIRTH: november 13th, 1999. GENDER & PRONOUNS: cis male & he/his. ORIENTATION: hetero. RELIGION: non-practicing christian. RELATIONSHIP STATUS: in a relationship with noémie leroux. OCCUPATION: full time university student. RESIDENCE: flatiron district, new york city.

002. CHECK JULES’ BACKGROUND

HOMETOWN: saint tropez, france. NATIONALITY: french. ETHNIC BACKGROUND: french and italian. LINGUISTICS: french which is his native language and english and italian in a fluent level. EDUCATION: he studies mechanical engineering at columbia university. CRIMINAL RECORD: clean. BIRTH ORDER: second though he’s now an only child. FATHER: françois pierre beauchamp, born on june 6th, 1970 in rennes, france, currently residing in montecarlo, monaco. he is a businessman and the owner and CEO of rocamadour spirits group. MOTHER: vivienne giulia del vecchio, born on september 14th, 1974 in sicily, italy, currently residing in montecarlo, monaco. she is an italian billionaire heiress, writer and the owner of del vecchio oil group. SISTER/S: none. BROTHER/S: guillaume maxime beauchamp, born on april 17th, 1997 in saint tropez, france, passed away on july 16th, 2000 in saint tropez, france. SIGNIFICANT OTHER: noémie leroux. CHILDREN: none so far. OTHER RELEVANT FAMILY: none. EX/ES: none, he didn’t have any solid relationships before noémie. PETS: moon, a cavalier king charles.

003. GET UP CLOSE & PERSONAL

HEIGHT: 6′0″ or 183 cm. WEIGHT: between 171 lbs or 77.5 kg and 175 lbs or 79 kg. BODY BUILD: as someone who has exercised and been involved in sports from a young age, jules has always been what would be described as fit. though he’s not obsessed about his diet or his routines, he prefers to eat clean and keep up a 5 to 6 day a week work out schedule. this being said, he has an overall athletic frame with particularly defined abs, toned legs and arms. EYE COLOR: brown. EYESIGHT: his eyesight has no problems. HAIR COLOR & STYLE: he has blonde, lighter during summer, darker in winter months and usually he has his hair shorter on the sides and longer on the top so a very low maintenance look that isn’t particularly hard to style. DOMINANT HAND: right. NOTABLE PHYSICAL TRAITS: his smile which, following most people’s opinion, seems to make him seem even younger than he is. overall, if it could be considered as such, the hint of youth, often mistaken by shyness, that his features portray. as the opposition to it, the amount of tattoos scattered all over his body are a standout, as is his athletic frame.  SCARS AND MARKS: on top of the usual every day little scars and marks, jules has some which are courtesy of all the exercise he does on a daily basis. otherwise, there’s nothing that is particularly notable or that stands out. TATTOOS: he got a shhh… on the underside of the index finger of his left hand — reference. his following piece consists of a cross with wings on the back of his neck — reference — something that symbolizes his faith and personal beliefs, and definitely the one tattoo he doesn’t like to expand much on for it’s a touchy one. soon afterwards, when one of his best friends - gabrielle - decided she wanted to get inked but was reticent since it would be a first, jules ended up going with her and getting a matching piece ; gabrielle’s micro tattoo reads we’re all in the same game; just different levels split into two parts in a cursive kind of font and is placed on the inside of her left wrist, whereas jules’ completes it and reads dealing with the same hell; just different devils. - his is also split in two, the same font, except it’s placed on the inside of his right wrist. as a consequence of a night where him, léo and henri got completely plastered, he has a smiley face tattooed on his toe. later on, and as the fulfillment of something he really wanted, jules proceeded to get the first piece of what would soon become a half sleeve on his left arm. he got a roaring tiger to symbolize his independence and free spirit while at the same representing strength. a little above it, and completing the half sleeve, he has a blooming rose which has more than one meaning to him - it was chosen to complement the tiger because despite the power and strength, he wishes for balance within his life but more so, and the primary reason why he acquired it back in the day, it’s because, atop of being one of noémie’s favorite flowers, roses can symbolize hope which, truly, translated into, back when he got it, him hoping for the best and hoping they would get together one day. next to the rose and above the tiger, he has a treble clef simply to symbolize his love for music. atop of his half sleeve, on the back of his left arm, he then got two fists bumping, another matching tattoo he got with gabrielle when he was visiting her in kailua. he has a distortion clock, dali’s style, merged into the back of his half sleeve, a tattoo he got soon after noémie started dating mathis and he got his heart broken. clock tattoos often represent an endless love, the meaning stands for his, the distortion only adds to the meaning by representing how heartbroken and helpless he felt at the time. towards the end of his half sleeve, and on the inside of his left wrist, he has the geographic coordinates both to where guillaume - his older brother - was born and where he passed away. he has a diamond, also merged into the back of his sleeve, something he has gotten when he was going through a rough patch as a reminder to focus on the positivity and be strong. additionally, within the half sleeve, you’ll find some more pieces like a G., the initial of his deceased brother’s first name; an anchor, something he got randomly but that also reminds him to stay grounded and a micro tattoo saying côte d’azur meant to represent his home. lastly, merged into the back of his half sleeve, he has a blacklight tattoo that’s otherwise invisible to the eye, reading six septembre, noé’s birthdate. he has the world map with a plane flying in between continents and a compass next to it, on the inside of his right bicep, something that he got soon after realizing he wanted to see more of the world and that he wasn’t willing to, eternally, stay in south of france. as for more recent tattoos, he has gotten the quote peace of mind on his left upper arm which he has begun to shade, and thus begun to extend his half-sleeve into a proper full-sleeve tattoo. higher above the two fists bumping he’s gotten with gabrielle, and complementing the tattoo with some additional shading, he has two keys crossing over each other with a V on one of the keys and a F on the other, representing two key people in his life - vivienne and françois, his mother and father respectively and next to it, he has a tiny sashimi roll tattooed, not really meaning much other than his love for food and sushi. likewise, merged into the others with the shading and all, he has a endless knot on the back of his arm. he has the sentence mon mond fou on the right side of his ribcage, in white ink. along his left hip, he has the quote il vaut mieux faire que dire meaning doing is better than saying, which resembles the whole actions are better than words, something jules avidly believes in. on the underside of his ring finger, he has a N’s - not-so-subtly meaning he’s noémie’s - followed by a micro dix juin - which is when he and noé officially started dating. he has the quote mind over matter is magic along the outer side of his right foot, a note to self more so than anything else, and on his right side, often covered up by his arm, he has the sentence la famille avant tout vertically tattooed in micro, cursive font.     PIERCINGS: none. VOICECLAIM: fabio quartararo. ACCENT & INTENSITY: though he spends a good chunk of his time speaking english and has been immersed in the new york environment for nearly a year, there’s no hint of a new yorker accent. from his words down to his enunciation and the way he carries himself as he speaks, you can tell he’s french. the little twists and quirks attached to the words make the south of france accent peer through and the fact his closest friends and girlfriend are french as well, help keeping the accent and its intensity intact. ALLERGIES: apples and cashews.  PHOBIAS & FEARS: being stuck in the same place - he’s not claustrophobic but the idea of being confined to a space, no matter how small or how big, it tends to send him spiraling into a state of utmost anxiety. MENTAL & PHYSICAL ILLNESSES: none so far. ALCOHOL USE: sometimes, mostly on social situations. SMOKING: he doesn’t smoke. NARCOTICS USE: no, he doesn’t use drugs. INDULGENT FOOD: it’s not something jul does very often. SPLURGE SPENDING: very rarely. GAMBLING: no, never.

004. DIG DEEPER

CAN THEY DRIVE? yes, he can drive. CAN THEY COOK & BAKE? yes and yes. CAN THEY CHANGE A FLAT TIRE? yes. CAN THEY TIE A TIE? ish. CAN THEY SWIM? yes. CAN THEY RIDE A BICYCLE? yes. CAN THEY JUMP START A CAR? no. CAN THEY BRAID HAIR? badly. CAN THEY PICK A LOCK? no. EXTROVERTED OR INTROVERTED? extroverted. DISORGANIZED OR ORGANIZED? in-between. CLOSE OR OPEN MINDED? open minded. CALM OR ANXIOUS? calm. PATIENT OR IMPATIENT? patient. OUTSPOKEN OR RESERVED? in-between. LEADER OR FOLLOWER? in-between. OPTIMISTIC OR PESSIMISTIC? optimistic. TRADITIONAL OR MODERN? modern. HARD-WORKING OR LAZY? hard-working. CULTURED OR UNCULTURED? cultured. LOYAL OR DISLOYAL? loyal. FAITHFUL OR UNFAITHFUL? faithful. NIGHT OWL OR EARLY BIRD? a mixture of both depending on the days. HEAVY OR LIGHT SLEEPER? not heavy, nor light. an in-between. COFFEE OR TEA? coffee. DAY OR NIGHT? night. TAKING BATHS OR SHOWERS? showers. COCA COLA OR PEPSI? neither. CATS OR DOGS? dogs. NETFLIX OR CINEMA? netflix. SHOWS OR MOVIES? shows. LAPTOP OR GAMING CONSOLE? gaming console. HEALTHY OR JUNK FOOD? healthy food. ICE CREAM OR FROZEN YOGURT? frozen yogurt. PIZZA OR HAMBURGER? pizza. LOLLIPOPS OR GUMMY WORMS? neither. BEACH OR POOL? beach. SNOWBALLS FIGHTING OR ICESKATING? snowballs fighting. LITERATURE OR SCIENCE? science. HISTORY OR ART? art. CHOCOLATE BARS OR COTTON CANDY? neither. XBOX OR PLAYSTATION? playstation. FACE-TO-FACE OR PHONE INTERACTIONS? face-to-face interactions. DRAMA OR SCI-FI? both. HORROR OR COMEDY? comedy.

005. JULES’ FAVORITES

FAVORITE ACTIVITY: working out. FAVORITE ANIMAL: lion. FAVORITE BOOK: thinking, fast and slow by daniel kahneman. FAVORITE COLOR/S: green. FAVORITE CUISINE: italian. FAVORITE DISH/ES: pissaladière, pan bagnat, gnocchi, profiterole, bananas foster. FAVORITE DRINK/S: pumpkin spice latte and plain iced water. FAVORITE FLOWER/S: roses. FAVORITE GEM: emerald. FAVORITE MOVIE: green book by peter farrelly. FAVORITE SONG: mile high by james blake and travis scott. FAVORITE SCENT/S: citrus, jasmine and musk. FAVORITE SHOW/S: brooklyn nine-nine, how i met your mother, f.r.i.e.n.d.s, the office, fresh prince of bel air, the big bang theory, new girl, the simpsons & rick and morty. FAVORITE SPORT/S & TEAM THEY SUPPORT: soccer, he supports as monaco and juventus fc, motogp, he supports yamaha moto racing, formula 1, he supports mercedes amg petronas, tennis and cycling. FAVORITE SEASON OF THE YEAR: summer. VACATION DESTINATION: banff, canada and anywhere in croatia.

[deathsmallcaps]

A talk about Haru

I know a bit about cattle (I live next door to a farm), and the lovely Kayla and Ellen’s @staytogetherpodcast often talks about how the characters resemble their animals in personality and such. So I just thought of some stuff that might interest them and other Fruits Basket fans. This is a bit spoilery (and maybe a little biased) so watch out.

The animal spirit is called an ox. An ox is a male who had finished growing and puberty before being neutered. (A steer is different - it’s done slightly before or during puberty, and they are more even tempered for males. Some people do use the terms interchangeably). That means yes, they do get a little more agreeable, and easier to manage, but they also were pumped full of testosterone once upon a time. So they are actually a bit more stronger (which is why they are used for plowing, etc.), harder to handle, and darker in color.

Darker because testosterone makes their fur turn dark brown/black in most if not all types of cows. Cows can be black but males are darker in breeds that aren’t always completely black. Haru turns into a Holstein (the basic black and white type), so it isn’t as apparent.

The darker the bull is, the more virile and attractive. Which may explain Dark Haru’s more open sexuality.

So I think it’s interesting that his more basic personality, Light Haru, acts more like his animal spirit than Dark Haru does. Light’s more gentle,etc. Was Dark originally developed as his more human side, and then maybe Takaya refitted it into the story in a different way? Idk.

Cattle can be extremely dangerous. The only animal more involved in human death (in America. Mosquitoes are even bigger problems in places with malaria) is the deer. True, we as a country interact with deer and cows more than, say, an anteater, but it doesn’t change the fact that cows are dangerous animals.

The mothers are fiercely protective. I think they beat bears in that sense (though bears can kill cows irl). Depending on the type of farm you live on (factory vs homestead etc) a cow may attack you if you even touch her baby. Assuming she gets to keep the calf, of course. (Dairy farms often take the baby away as soon as it is born so they can milk the mother and make sure there is no bond. This leads to socialization issues for the calves).

Bulls are more easily provoked, due to their testosterone running their brains. But in my inexpert opinion, you’d have better luck with some bulls than a lot of mom cows.

Cattle have hard heads that weigh at the very least fifty pounds. They also have horns. You can get impales and whacked out of the way at the same time. The average small cow weighs more than 500 pounds. They can easily crush your bones. The round bellies are more from their four stomachs than obesity, though they do have a good layer of fat. Possibly worst of all, they can kick their back legs in almost any direction. Horses pretty much just go straight back, but a cow can kick you sideways. And while they only have one row of teeth in the front, their back munchers could bite your fingers off.

So Haru should probably be broader, but his height makes sense. I do think he’s taller and less skinny than the other characters. I realize it was Takaya’s Art style, and all of the male characters eventually become long bois and do fill out near the end.

He is also really good at fighting so there’s that.

Cattle give off a lot of heat - even when they aren’t all fuzzy and long haired like those highland cattle, they are often (not all breeds) comfortable in 40F (five-ish Celsius) and often stand outside in the snow. That doesn’t mean you should leave them in the elements, of course, but they’re tough animals.

Which kind of makes me laugh because Haru is always wearing a jacket and he should be over-heating.

Cattle drink a shit ton of water. One gulp is probably about 2-3 liters. Haru should be chugging all day.

Cattle are like the opposite of horses, with wide barrel bellies, narrow-ish shoulders and hips and butt that slants like a roof in New England. They are hard to ride bareback. They must’ve put a lot of effort in keeping Yuki on top of Haru lol.

Cattle are also very curious, intelligent, mischievous and playful. Even the mamas, when they are heavily pregnant, will still kick around some. Anything they can lift with their horns/head? It goes flying. The steer next door likes to drink half his water (his tub holds about a hundred gallons so it’s huge) and then flip it over to dump out the rest, just so he can knock it around his field. Then he complains very loudly about dying of thirst. he understands consequences, just doesn’t care about them.

His mother was very tricky. But that’s another story.

The steer (his name is Moo, used to be little moo when he was a calf) has horns, and likes to go around to plant life (mostly weeds, because that’s what his owners allow him to play with) and just rip that shit up. He swings his big head around when he gets excited, and when he’s very excited/surprised he bucks around in a circle, just like his mother did. he likes to sneak up to windows when its dark outside and press his nose against it, so when you look out the previously unoccupied space to see a large face smearing itself against the window (cow noses are often wet because they lick themselves and eat their own boogers) at 11:00 at night. just to see you scream and act all surprised about it.

(some friendly cows like to pretend to be scared)

When a cow encounters something new that isnt easily identified a s a threat, they circle it and snuff it and its very cute.

So Haru trying to get a rise out of people just for kicks is very true to cow behavior and I love it.

Cattle are also extremely loving and bond easily. When Moo was born, the only other cow he’d ever seen was his mother, and he was surrounded by miniature goats. So for the first year and a half of his life (he’s 2.5 now) he genuinely thought he was a goat and tried to play with them, even acting like he didn’t enjoy the rain to fit in. Unfortunately for Moo, goats are extremely family based and exclusive of other beings who aren’t related to them/bring them food, so he wasn’t accepted by the goats. (Female Goats are basically a clique - if you try to introduce a doe they don’t know, that doe is shunned most of the time [and often the loners do not band together] but they try to stay with the herd.)

This may be why Haru is so protective of others, like Yuki and Rin, etc.

Unless you anger a cow, they will probably not hurt you on purpose. Cruelty is really only a human/maybe cat thing and sometimes, your foot was just in the way and they didn’t see it. A lot of them don understand how truly large they are. 

Cattle have rough tongues like cats and use them to groom themselves and each other. Moo loves almost everyone he meets, and gives them hugs with his neck (if you stand at his shoulder he’ll curl his neck around you, which is great because then you an hug him back) and stinky, slobbery tongue baths. 

When a cow is grooming you, their already large, round eyes get really wide and they look very sweet and blissed out.

I bet Haru likes to groom people.

Anyways, thanks for reading! I think a good amount of this kind of explains Haru, Also, if for some reason you read this without ever hearing of the Stay Together Podcast, you should check it out! It’s funny and well-thought-out and you can really tell that the hosts are re-enjoying the story. 

If you have any questions about cows, goats, chickens or horses (though I am the least knowledgable about those) let me know!

[okimargarvez]

UNCONDITIONED REFLEX

Original title: Riflesso incondizionato (come uno starnuto)

Prompt: 14x15 if there were been Luke and Penelope in the place of JJ and Reid.

Warning: none.

Genre: angst, romantic, comedy, family.

Characters: Penelope Garcia, Luke Alvez, Emily Prentiss, David Rossi, O.C. (unsub).

Pairing: Garvez.

Note: oneshot 48 in Garvez collection. 

Legend: 💏🔦🎈.

Song mentioned: 10 mila scuse: Interludio, Tiziano Ferro.

GARVEZ STORIES

UNCONDITIONED REFLEX

 -Garcia, but are you still here?- the voice behind her makes her jump and fright causes her an uncontrolled cough. She remains turned away from the intruder who dared to set foot in her personal temple until she can calm herself down enough to be able to formulate at least one meaningful sentence.

-Yes, why should not I?- then she exclaims, showing herself determined and convinced, as well as distant and superior, as if she didn’t have time to take care of him. -I have things to finish.- she adds with the same stiff tone. -And I could ask you the same, you know?- she points out to him, while a pleased smile borns against her lips. The man remains silent and this convinces her to be on the right path to get rid of him. -At least I don’t have a girlfriend waiting for me anxious at home, but only a cat.- still silence from the invader. -Poor Lisa, I don’t know how she could bear you...- the joke dies in the bud when she sees change in the expression of his colleague.

Luke runs a sad smile and scratches his head, in a gesture that she has now learned to interpret as a manifestation of extreme uncertainty. -In fact, she didn’t.- he says simply, in a tone not too pained, neither joking, rather... neutral.

For the first time since he entered the bat-cave the woman really looks at him, from being human to being human. -What do you mean?- she squints, trying to catch any signs that will make her identify a possible lie.

Luke, however, doesn’t seem to have any intention, in fact, seems simply exhausted, as if he was fresh from a marathon or as if he had just finished chasing an unsub along the steep peaks of a mountain. -She broken with me.- he shrugs and manages to reject a principle of hysterical giggle. -Before you start with a monologue to weave her praises and to demolish me...- she looks at him as offended by his accusation, but he ignores her -It had to go like this. With this job... but I don’t even know if it's just the fault of the job or just mine.- he raises his shoulders again; Penelope can’t remember the last time she saw him so confused, in which he didn’t clearly articulate a concept. Although she has spent at least a year, first Luke's year in the BAU, to demolish him, she has never denied within herself his numerous capabilities as a federal agent. -Anyway, it went like this.- he adds, perhaps only to fill the emptiness of that silence caused by the reflections of the blonde in front of him.

Which changes completely attitude, feeling a strong pain in the chest and another, a little less strong, in the lungs. -Oh, Luke, I didn’t want to hurt you, I'm sorry if I have...- he raises a hand, as that time when he had asked her to give him five in the name of the dynamic duo, and at the same time she coughs so many times, silencing any possible delirium of tangled excuses.

-It's all right, Garcia, okay?- she nods, although she doesn’t seem particularly convinced. -Let's talk about your influence.- it's the man's turn to completely change his attitude. It vanishes that insecure and fragile air that had almost moved her and suddenly he seems so convinced and determined. For a moment she can’t replicate anything. Then, suddenly like the rest, indignation emerges.

-I don’t have the influence.- she says, turning her back, aware of her red nose, by dint of blowing it all evening, when she wasn’t in connection with the team, of course, and eyes shining. -I'm... I'm fine!- she hears the echo of her own voice that says to him that same sentence, just as liar then as today. -You can also go to your house to... Roxy.- she corrects herself at the last. She feels the steps of man approaching and manages to remain perfectly still.

He puts a hand on her shoulder and does nothing else, but she turns to him, as if he had pressed the right button, had typed the correct sequence. -No offense, Garcia, but I know how you look when you're okay and now... it's not one of those times.- it's just a fleeting impression, and yet, for a second, she thinks she has reading malice in his brown eyes, which she had always believed much darker, while now, which she is so close to him, sick and with defenses (not only immune) so low, can capture all the various nuances of his irises.

She takes a while to awaken from the spell. A good cough intervenes in her defense, this time single but harsh and dry. -Alvez, how dare you say such a thing?- she prays all the gods in the celestial spheres that her cheeks haven’t become the same shade of her nose. I... I... achoo!- and then here is making its cameo a sneeze, probably jelaous for the space that had won the colleague.

Luke makes no effort to disguise his complacency. -Bless you.- he tells her, politely, and for a moment she sees a version of her colleague at the time of high school, perfectly combed hair, good clothes, his mother who repeats the same recommendations, in the churchyard. -So, still convinced of your position?- he asks her with obvious amusement as he torments her.

-Obviously.- she replies, this time promptly, turning back and returning to take care of her work, typing with the left hand while the right is struggling in the search for the lost handkerchief.

-Ok.- she hears him reply, only those two letters, a syllable, and the thing should already be suspicious. But even in her most daring dreams she could never have imagined him endowed with so much courage. The man walks around her chair and overlaps his hands with that of the blonde, quickly pressing just two buttons, activating the forced shutdown of the whole system, that a second before starting sets in motion the automatic saving of all the last actions. Penelope opens her eyes, freeing two tears that perfectly brush her face until they reach the chin before the final jump. She also opens her mouth wide, but nothing comes out for a moment.

Then, the voice returns to her. -What did you do?- she shouts, congratulating those who decided to build her bunker completely soundproof. -Are you crazy? Have you lost your mind?- she asks him, leaning with the intention of grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him, but the other part of her can’t even take the idea of touching him into account.

-Unfortunately, good manners don’t work with you.- Luke replies simply, with that condescending tone that is used with madmen, children with attention deficit and animals that are considered stupid. -And now, c’mon, take your stuff, I'll take you to your house.- she doesn’t know if she's more mad with him for interrupting her work (and who could imagine that he knew that sequence?), for having accused her of be stubborn and want to be right at all costs, or for this last sentence, expressed in tone too natural and spontaneous, as if he were her boyfriend and had the right to tell her what is best for her.

-But... but... but...- for this she can’t do anything but repeat like a broken record the same word that perfectly expresses all her unease and her uncertainty. Man doesn’t seem to have pity for her at all. Taking her by the shoulders, again as if it were the most natural thing in the world, he forces her to rise from her chair.

-You, hurry up.- and Penelope almost ends up on the ground, looking for a way to get away from him. But at the same time a thought starts turning in her head. How sexy is he when he plays the authoritarian role...? Why did I think such a thing? It's wrong. He sees me as a friend, nothing more. He would do the same thing with Tara. -Do you need a hand to wear the coat?- she observes his hands towards her like the claws of a bird of prey ready to grasp her and take her to his nest.

-NO.- she says, a bit too strong and with a look and attitude in general too terrified. She forces herself to slow down the beats of the heart and calm the breath, but this costs her another cough.- No, no.- she repeats, more satisfied with the result. -I can do it.- it’s unclear how her legs hold up her just enough to reach the hanger that is so lopsided that Kate gave her so many years ago that she almost can’t believe it's been so long. -Are you happy now?- is a rhetorical question, and in fact she doesn’t wait for a reply, grabs the bag and starts out.

-Quite.- she still hears him exclaim. As soon as Luke is out of her bunker, she types the security code to block access to unauthorized people, everyone except she, Prentiss, and anyone above the head of the BAU. -Penelope?- she warns the man's gaze over her body as if it were tangible.

-What?- she sighs, focusing on the last digits. It never happened to her to do it wrong.

-Are you sure you can handle it, alone at home?- a slight hesitation, just as she completes the operation and starts walking towards the elevator. Another feeling of deja-vu, and she can’t make fun of herself to the point of saying that she doesn’t know what it refers to, what exact moment actually happened between them. -Because I could...- she anticipates him, pressing the call button and this surprises him so much that he is silenced.

-No, no.- she shakes her head, wrong choice: for a moment everything goes around her as if she were on a carousel. -I'll have a hot tea, I'll take an aspirin and I'll go to bed right away.- she list diligently. -Okay, daddy?- she repents instantly of the last joke, but she just can’t help it. In the meantime, the elevator arrives, empty.

-A new nickname?- he asks her, but is probably not talking  to her as anyone else. -It's a bit too weird even for you.- he gives her one of his ultra-malicious looks and this time paralyzes her, and the blame is all her weakness. When she manages to free herself from that spell, the price she is forced to pay is another fine series of perfectly alternating coughing and sneezing, like in a monotone symphony. -All right?- she can deny how much she wants, but he's really worried about her, about her health. But this doesn’t mean anything, and she repeats it until she believes it.

-Stop to worry about me, Alvez.- she says, looking at him for a second, she can’t allow herself any more, otherwise she might catch in his net again. -My head is spinning a little.- she admits, because she actually fears to skid against the elevator walls. But Luke doesn’t take the opportunity to make a joke or reiterate how he was right.

-C’mon, it is better if you hold on me.- he says only, without traces of malice, complacency, only... sweetness, damn, it seems sweetness. And it wasn’t the first time that she grasps that nuance in him when he is with her. -Trust me, I don’t bite.- he adds, this time giving her a brief smile, but not one of those with half-crooked lips, of when she still called him Newbie, no, one of those as when he had given her that anti-stress.

-You're so stubborn...- she exclaims, closing her eyes and signing her surrender. He doesn’t wait for anything else, surrounding her shoulders with his arm, so big, powerful, that it seems made for that task, because she is not really the smallest woman on the planet. Not that it was the first time he did it, no, it had happened when they brought Lou to Phil... but Penelope decides to send her pride to the hell and even puts her head on his shoulder for the short ride that separates them from man's car. She seems to hear a sigh of restrained joy, but it must have been just her impression. Why should he be happy to have her weight on him?

Too soon she feels herself snatching from that comfortable torpor in which she had fallen and without understanding how, she finds herself sitting in the passenger's seat. -Do you prefer a little silence, or I turn on the radio?- he's asking her (it’s hard to admit it) savior.

-No, the silence leaves too much space to my thoughts.- she answers extremely sincere and doesn’t get too angry with himself. She is just "wake up" and has the defenses completely lowered and already today she feels no good... -Better the radio.- she decrees and he nods, turning on the first and then starting the engine.

And you provoke envy in people, because of who is great, but doesn’t realize it... with ten thousand excuses the world devours you, you laugh and make fun of it... you direct love at all, but stay out of groups, those who talk a lot, think a little less... come from confidence and an the idea that looks good, the medium is important, but the aim is the person, and only love is important, you keep it too much, that’s why you are special…

Only rarely she gives him a quick glance, while the man's eyes remain fixed on the road. She wonders what he's thinking right now, surely to Lisa, even if he tried to make her believe he wasn’t feel too bad. They had been together for how much, at least a year, no? He couldn’t have come out from it as if nothing had happened. But Luke is in a completely different kind of elucubrations; he is in fact meditating that he could so easily dedicate to her some of the phrases of this song that he has never heard before today. An annoying sound breaks his thoughts before they can become deeper.

-Oh no, I think that we have a case.- Penelope exclaims, in a desperate tone. She clears her throat, to probably prevent other coughing from interrupting her. From the corner of his eye he sees her grab her cell phone and press a button; the speakerphone. -Go ahead, Emily. It's me and Luke.- she declares quietly. A pause of a few seconds. The woman on the other end of the phone is in fact assimilating the information received, fighting against her perplexity. How come those two were together at this time?

So, the head of the BAU perks up. -I called to warn you that Rossi has decided to hold a kind of collective bachelor party and invited the whole team for tomorrow night. He instructed me to pass the word...- this time she does nothing to hide the relief that seizes her.

-Oh, thank goodness, for a moment I feared that...- even the other woman easily reads her mind. She can imagine the smile of the friend spreading on her face.

-No, no new case, don’t worry.- she reassures her, with a chuckle. -And, Garcia?- she adds, just to the last. An infinitesimal exchange of glances between driver and passenger that remains of an uncertain nature.

-What?- then she asks in turn, trembling inside.

-Are you sure you're okay? You look a little... weird...- Penelope looks up at the sky and then looks at Luke as if she wanted to hit him; the man merely giggles almost imperceptibly. Too low for Emily to hear it, luckily for him.

-I'm fine, and anyway, Alvez is taking me home, so don’t worry.- the man makes another completely silent smile. -Night, ma’am.- the blonde says.

-Good night.- Emily echoes.

-Night, Prent...- but the conversation has already been closed. -Hey, I was still talking!- Luke protest. -What is it?- he then asks, taking advantage of a stop to look her in the eye.

-Come on, say it.- she urges him. -You can’t wait to do it, you are quivering with the desire to reproach me. C’mon, don’t be shy.- then he understands what she is referring to.

-If you insist...- he says, enjoying another nice round of those eyes that have captured his from the first glance. -Have you seen? Even Emily has noticed that you aren’t the same.- Penelope immediately breaks the eye contact, preferring to focus on the unattractive landscape that is beyond the window.

-Damned profilers...- she mumbles. Then, a sudden lighting. -Oh, hell.- though he is careful as he drives, the man hears her and immediately starts thinking about the worst. Seeing her hand on her chest, he is afraid that she may have a heart attack.

-What? What happened?- he exclaims alarmed and not hiding it in any way.

-Nothing.- however, the colleague answers, stubborn to the end. She would also be able to die, rather than admit that he was right.

-Penelope... I don’t let it go, there is no way.- he clarifies it with a hard, almost angry tone. -Then speak.- he doesn’t intend to give her a way to escape and this time she falls badly, because she is aboard his car, he could lead her where he wants, even at his home, and the silent treatment will not work. At the cost of stopping and spending all night on the side of the road.

-Oh, what the hell.- she seems to realize it. Just when she is about to start explaining she is caught by some cough; the less they are numerous and the more they increase in intensity. -I remembered only now that I don’t even have a medicine at home.- she manages to say, with the fluctuating voice that comes and goes, but the man still understands the general sense of the sentence.

-It’s not a problem, there is a pharmacy a little further on.- there follows a pause where only the music of a digester's advertisement is heard. Then Luke turns expressly towards her, almost in slow motion. -Does that mean you admit you're sick?- he's so pleased and so beautiful with that expression, those shining eyes, that she finds herself confirming her knockout.

-I admit it, ok?- she doesn’t have time to hide the shadow of a smile also on her own lips. -Satisfied?- he still doesn’t comment on it, not out loud, at least.

-Partly.- here in the night shine the green light of the cross indicating that they have reached the goal. Luke parks, then he unties his belt. -Wait in the car, I'll come back in a moment.- he says, and he has already almost half a foot on the asphalt, when he hears himself grabbing by the edge of his jacket.

-No way.- now she too gets out of the car. -I'm not dying, Alvez, and I will not let you pay for my stuff.- she says firmly and stubbornly, then she opens her eyes, hearing again her voice. -God, it seemed like a drug addict' phrase.- he closes his car door and observes her do the same, then he inserts the allarm.

-A little.- he doesn’t even try to hold back a giggle. -I imagine that this is the consequence of feminism.- but this time she doesn’t seem to find his joke particularly amusing. They are walking a few centimeters away, they don’t notice it, but their steps are perfectly synchronized, like two soldiers during the official parade on July 4th.

-Don’t think about things bigger than you.- she admonishes him and he understands that there is no need to reply. -Hurry, I don’t want to spend more than ten minutes with you.- she picks up the pace and goes over him at the entrance. -I can’t bear you anymore.- Luke, however, can’t help but laugh again, hearing her complaining about his company, making her anger, but the woman decides to concentrate on choosing the medicine to buy. The truth is that there are too many kind and that each has a stranger and terrifying name of the other, it wasn0t that now she has learned them by heart, by dint of looking for digital traces for cases of unknown subjects with dependencies of all kinds... she not even realize that is entered a man who seems pretty nasty, sometimes the judgment on the book given only by brushing the cover with the look is extremely accurate and sometimes, the clothes makes the man. She jumps, ending with her back against her colleague's chest when the first shot resonates in the building, shaking all the windows containing non-over-the-counter drugs. Luke gives a quick glance and realizes that there are only two (three) people besides them and the gangster: an old man, with a stick and walker, who is holding his chest (he hopes he is not having a principle of a heart attack, but it would not be so strange, in this case) and a mother with a stroller decorated with Hello Kitty. Without speaking, he grabs Penelope by the shoulders and turns her towards him; he makes her understand that she has to be silent and doesn’t move. He directs himself sneaking towards the man, who wears neither a mask nor anything that could prevent his identification. Bad sign. He hears a moan of fear coming from behind his back, but he doesn’t turn around to scold her. She isn’t used to living these kinds of situations. And then he could never say bad words to her.

He still makes two steps and is exactly behind the man, what he should do is shoot without identifying, because this would make everything much simpler. He is an excellent shooter, he has certificates holed up in a box that he has never opened at home, to testify this. In this way, the robber (he wants to keep believing it's just this) wouldn’t have time to hurt anyone. But he took an oath, and, above all, what would Penelope think of him if he killed a man in that way? -FBI, weapon on the ground and hands up.- then he shouts, completely entering his role. That man doesn’t move. -You heard me? Weapon on the ground and we can talk.- he repeats, trying to give a calm, serene and peaceful tone to his voice, but at the same time decided and authoritarian. Sometimes it's just a matter of who screams louder.

-FBI, uh?- he says, finally, turning around so that he can looks him right in the face. Brown hair, standard length, brown eyes, white, about thirty years old. If it weren’t for that look, he would seems as any of the American tax payers. -I have three hostages at my disposal.- he points out, with a sick smile that perhaps he believes particularly original, but Luke has seen it too many times on too many different faces. -If you shoot me, I'll have time to bring one of them with me.- the man continues, becoming more and more sure of himself. Behind him he hears a noise, but he doesn’t want to think that it could be Garcia who has followed him. -Do you like the risk, federal agent?- he asks him directly, amused in a way too obvious by the use of that title. Almost Luke was nothing but his job. But he wants to believe that he is also other, for example, Roxy's dad.

It is the thought of his dog that gives him the right charge. -Good, then let's do it, we put down the guns at the same time and then we'll talk.- he proposes, even sketching a smile, so fake, because he was never good at pretending these things, like Hotch, like Rossi, or like Emily and JJ. Perhaps he is still the hunter of men who believed that profiling was stupid. -What do you think?- the other, however, seems not too attentive to his words, look beyond him, and Luke knows what it means, but still basks in the illusion. Denying, always denying, beyond the evidence.

-I say, don’t take it out, I would prefer to exchange a few words with your blonde friend.- until his most horrendous fears are confirmed and he is forced to smash his face violently against them. He makes a big mistake, unable to disguise his emotions, he closes his eyes for a moment so as not to faint, stunned by the horror that is revolting his guts.

-What blonde friend...- he tries anyway, one last try. Then he hears that noise again, and this time he recognizes it, clear and precise. A sneeze. A moment later someone' hand, delicate skin, soft and silky, takes his wrist.

-Sorry, Luke, I tried to restrain myself, but...- she begins to justify herself, but Luke shakes his head and weaves a single finger into hers, trying to pass on what he thinks.

In any case, the man, which is, now is clear, certainly not just a robber, doesn’t seem willing to let them talk. -Make a deal, federal agent...- Luke anticipates him, gaining some points. But he is losing this match 4 to 0.

-Luke, Luke Alvez, but you can call me Luke.- the voice comes out too uncertain, almost careless, it is as if the language no longer wanted to respond to his commands. And that blonde who vibrates imperceptibly next to him doesn’t help keep him cool.

-Good, Agent Alvez.- he does it on purpose, still calling him with the title and to prefer his last name, thus rejecting his implicit proposal to manage the thing amicably. In fact, he prefers it because he thinks of something that he might have read or perhapsReid had told him about the value of the proper name of divinity and city. And if that bastard didn’t call him by name, he couldn’t dominate him. -I'll let all the hostages go if she plays with me.- he adds with a lascivious smile.

Luke trembles, but for the blind rage that assails him. -Play with you what?- but his question is totally ignored, because Penelope passes in front of him, and goes over a few steps towards the asshole with the gun still pointed in the direction of the young mother.

-I'm in.-she says, her voice firm. The man can’t help but feel so proud of his colleague, and, at the same time, also angry with her, because it is not up to her to play the role of heroin in this show.

-Wait, Garcia, don’t be hasty...- he tries to stop her, but she drives him away like an annoying insect.

-Shut up, Luke.- she silences him abruptly. -I said I'm in.- she turns to the other man and gets a little closer. Luke feels the useless weight of the weapon in his hand. He reaches her, supports her and tries to concentrate only on the asshole.

-Tell me.- he repeats, a hoarse growl at the bottom of his throat. -What do you want to play with her?- who knows what the hell he expects, but nothing could displace him more than the answer of the man.

-Truth or dare.- he exclaims, never turning away from the blonde. -If I realize that you lie, honey, your friend will get a nice bullet in the body.- he explains, stroking his gun as if he were already anticipating the moment when the bullet will pierce the epidermis of the federal agent. -Understand?- he adds with tone a bit more serious and even evil.

-Understand.- she nods, slightly bowing her head, showing herself submissive. But is it a performance or does she really want to surrender to him, do everything that he asks for?

-Garcia, you don’t have to lend yourself to this thing.- he tries again to dissuade her, he doesn’t even know why, because he understood that by now the mechanism has started and there is no way to stop it.

-Luke, stop getting in the way.- she replies, but the fact that she has called him again by name is equivalent to a kind of secret signal to tell him that she hasn’t completely lost her mind, that she will not give up so easily as thinks the unmasked asshole.

-You heard, Agent Luke Alvez?- this time the other also calls him by full name. He goes back, walking without looking where he puts his feet, and yet he doesn’t stumble, until he reaches the door, he must have blocked without anyone noticing it, he throws it open and gestures to the hostages to get out of his way. Only then Luke thinks about the strangeness of the lack of workers: why was not there even a pharmacist? Should not they necessarily have to do the night service? -Now, good, put down the gun and kick it, towards me.- the cold voice of the asshole brings him back to reality. He does it without objecting, then he observes him even more powerless, tying the wrists of his colleague. He clenches his fists until he hurt his knuckles. Then he does the same with him and also gives him a boost, taking advantage of the fact that he has no way to keep his balance. - Let's start.- he says. -Truth or dare...- Luke feels a knot in his stomach, understanding what is about to happen. No, don’t don’t do it, he tries to communicate telepathically to her. Don’t tell him your real name. But she can’t hear him.

-Penelope. My name is Penelope.- she replies in fact. She coughs and blushes, perhaps because of the shame of not being able to cover her mouth with an hand, as they taught her. -And I choose truth.- she adds, showing himself decisive, like a convict who knows he is going to meet his destiny, proud as Joan of Arc at the stake.

-Great, Penelope.- he doesn’t hide his perverse complacency. -What are you doing here with him at this time? In other words, what is your relationship with him?- he hastens to clarify, confusing her by mixing the two questions. In spite of himself, Luke realizes he is deeply interested in what she will say. -Think well on what to answer, because I will understand if you lie.- he warns her in a bored tone, as if it were a phrase he repeated too many times. And maybe it's like that. This is not an amateur, he must have done it before. And what happened to his previous victims?

-We... we work for the same unit.- Penelope begins to explain, interrupted by another cough that doesn’t seem to catch pity from the asshole. -Behavioral Analyst Unit.- she specifies. -I am a computer technician and he is a special supervisor agent. We are work colleagues.- all here. Colleagues. But hadn’t he done the same thing when he'd introduced her to Lisa on their first date? So why should he feel entitled to be... hurt, offended?

-How boring.- even the other man doesn’t seem happy, and fiddles with the weapon, making it dangle for the handle. -I was hoping for something more, honestly.- he shoves it behind his back and starts walking toward them.

-Don’t come any closer her, don’t touch her, don’t dare!- Luke jumps, unable to contain his anger as he watches that man move his dirty hands along the body of Penelope, looking for a document that he could easily find if only he looked in the right place and most obvious, her bag.

-A little too protective to be just a colleague, don’t you think?- he is aimed exclusively at the blonde. Then he follows Luke's telepathic advice and finds the woman's badge and takes a second to capture the Latin one as well. -I seen you told the truth.- he nods, to himself. -It is not allow omitting the details, however.- he adds, at the last, with a completely different tone and also his gaze, his eyes, change, almost another entity had taken the upper hand in him. -Maybe I should show you that I'm serious...- he turns with a jerk and pulls the trigger, just in the direction of Luke's leg, where Penelope herself knows that the femoral artery is located and that would mean only five minutes of time to intervene before the man bleeds to death. The thought provokes her yet another attack of cough, but she manages to reject it with the few remaining forces. The cry dies in her throat when she hears only the empty click, the shot without the result of the weapon. -Oh, I forgot to tell you that we are also doing another game.- he laughs, a coarse and vulgar laugh, but definitely less frightening than that look. -Do you know Russian roulette, Luke? This time you were lucky, but Luck is a fickle thing that never ceases to turn...- the man rotates the section of the weapon, only now Luke recognizes it, a revolver, where the bullets are. There are only two, enough to kill both. -So, truth or dare?- he asks re-establishing the initial distances.

-I want to take part in this.- the federal agent intrudes, noticing Penelope's shining eyes and wondering if the cause is really just the flu or a hell brooding.

-Do you have any burning secret to reveal, Luke?- for the first time, he seems to have been able to capture his attention. -A weight to get rid of?- the other hesitates. -Otherwise you're not very interesting.- he concludes, shrugging.

-I'm filled of secrets.- he exclaims then, and in fact, he's not lying at all. Since he's been part of the BAU the situation has changed a little, but there are a lot of things that his colleagues ignore about his private life and his previous life.

The asshole looks really pleasantly surprised. -Well, let's see.- then he backs to focus on the blonde who is becoming red to prevent a sneeze or yet another cough. Almost as if it were a sign of unforgivable weakness. -But remember that if you lie the sweet Penelope will take a bullet... let's say in her leg.- he understands that with the mind the slimy is caressing her thigh and that, if he were to die, it could really happen. He could even do it while the blood, together with life, flows out of her. -Are you still convinced you want to play?- he nods, planting his teeth in his lower lip. -If you are happy... Truth or dare?- the easiest choice he has had to make since they have been here.

-True.- he replies, while a sneeze resounds beside him.

- What's the thing that makes you ashamed more, of all the things you had to do for your work?- he asks without hesitation. -The one that make you feel more guilty, I mean something that, even after the years, doesn’t let you sleep well.- Luke bends down his head, because he has an answer, and the asshole will like it so hard.

He closes his eyes, shielding himself from the rest of the world. -Before I joined the BAU... there was a guy, a criminal. Daniel Cullen.- he is no longer in this pharmacy, on the floor, with his hands tied. -He tormented my partner, my best friend... almost killed him. He has ripped apart him.- he's back in time or maybe in a memory or in a fantasy, as long as there is a difference. -I should have been in his place.- he says, raising his eyelids, but being careful not to look at Penelope. -It's been six years, and yet I keep waking up sweating in the middle of the night, and doing the same nightmare, identical.- he is not lying about it, and perhaps that also helped push Lisa to make that decision. And he couldn’t blame her.

-Did you want to kill him?- the asshole pricks him, completely immersed in his black tale. - Or did you do it?- Luke vibrates, meditating for the first time on the possibility of lying to him, to preserve the image that his colleague has of him, at least that she will want to speak again with him, as long as they will survive all this.

-Yes, I wanted to kill him with my hands, see the life flow away from his eyes and no, I couldn’t do it.- in the end he opts again for the cruel truth, not for beautiful lies. Killing and even wishing to do so is one of the ten sins punished by his religion, but even this can’t stop him. -Unfortunately.- he adds, digging his chasm a little further.

-Wow, this is a great revelation, don’t you think so, Penelope?- that man smiles, waiting maybe that the blonde could do the same. -You’re safe, for now, even if it seems to me, Luke, that your words have hurt her more than any bullet.- the man is forced to see that he is right. The blonde is trembling and her big eyes, wide open, are ones of an animal caught in the headlights. -You shocked her, poor girl. You didn’t think that your coworker had so dark thoughts inside him, didn’t you?- she doesn’t nod nor denies. -It’s your turn, now. Truth or dare?- wearily, as she wouldn’t have any alternative, she answers him.

-Truth.- that man beats an hand on the other and play for a bit with the gun, while he seems think about what he could asks her this time.

-What do you feel for your colleague Luke, especially in the light of his revelations?- he finally asks, and in fact it is strange that he took so long to get there, because in the movies is one of the first things, almost two kidnapped people have to end up getting together... if both remain alive until the end credits.

-Penelope, the team will arrive soon, you don’t have to say anything you don’t want.- he gets in the way, tonight it seems that he hasn’t done anything else, and for a second she looks at him.

Then, however, she shakes her head. -No, it’s not. It’s my fault if we had to stop here.- two other tears run along her cheeks and the man hates he couldn't do anything, the fact he can’t dry them with his thumbs. -Luke, I… there is no way to say it, and If I ever thought about this moment, I never imagined that it would been in a pharmacy, hands tied behind the backs, and a fool who is pointing his weapon to our heads.- the asshole doesn’t seem to take it badly, he is probably used to it. -But I say simply the truth, as he asked me.- now Luke trembles for another reason, so different from the ones that have shaken him until now; because the way she has talked and her gaze… it’s possible that she is really about to confess what he thinks? And why that idea makes him so happy? His priority is to save her, save both of them, so he could take her to the hospital, to a medic… and they could understand what she has, because his instinct, that bastard who is always right, tells to him that there is not just a flu, there is something worst under it and a cruel hourglass that signals the the time available. -I don’t think about you just as a coworker… you became important for me, don't mind how much I tried to keep you from doing that.- here they are, she is about to say it, really, maybe it will be just a distraction, yeah, in fact it would be the right thing to do. A good love confession, a fed gossip could confuse the asshole just enough to… -I… I love you and I can’t handle that you could be hurt or even dead because of me!- she says, and almost the effort to say all those things had been too much for her body, she bursts into a series of convulsive cough attacks, this time longer, deep and sinister. -Are you satisfied now?- then she asks, nose, eyes red and full of tears. For a moment Luke fears she might die suffocated.

-Well, let's say that this time I will not shoot him.- yet that asshole is not even satisfied, it even seems... disappointed. -It's your turn, Luke. Truth or dare?- the federal agent sighs, before answering, meditating on how much time can actually be passed, ruthless hourglasses apart.

-Truth.- why the team is not here yet? The hostages didn’t back to their home pretending it’s happened nothing, right? Whoever would warn the law enforcement. Sure, from this to call the BAU…

-Perfect, as I guessed.- he makes turn the box containing the projectiles again. -And you, Agent Alvez, what do you really think of your colleague?- here, his turn has arrived. --Remember that her leg is always at stake, if you try to be clever.- he doesn’t give him time to reflect. -And I add: is there anything else you've never told her, and would you like to confess?- but unknowingly, he provides him with exactly what he needed: an escape to not find himself confessing his love in such a situation drab. -This could be the right time, also because it could be the last one.- that warning, however, puts everything at stake.

He turns to her, how much the strings allow him. -Penelope, I…- and he understands that he is really about to throw himself without parachute. What good would it do still living with his intact pride but in a world without her?

-You don’t have to answer, Luke.- she seems say the same as him a moment ago. -I was already shot, I can handle it.- and she is right, that shit of Battle dared to do a similar action, but just because at that time he was busy to dodging bullets on the front line of a war that he never understood.

-But he can’t, I’m right?- the asshole seems so easy reading his mind, yet, he decides consciously to try to trick him.

-Penelope, do you remember Phil?- he start to say. -You remember that the day he died you asked me if he had asked about you and that...- he bites his lips to make them bleed, but never removes his eyes from her, despite the shame he feels. -I lied to you, and I lied to him too. Since he saw you, he did nothing but torment me to know if you were already dating someone or if you were free, and I...- the mouth that so much wanted to taste bends downwards. And it's his fault, only his.

-Why, why did you do it?- Penelope asks, sounding more confused than hurt.

-Yeah, Luke, why did you do it?- echoes that human shit that keeps on keeping her under his sight.

-Because… because I didn’t want that my private life and work mixing too much.- it’s a bullshit, and it’s so obvious, yet he really said it. -I know I was selfish, but…- his words are covered by a thud that sounds to their ears as a rumble.

-Wrong answer.- without adding other word, the man points his gun exactly at the level of the knee of the blond and pulls the trigger. Luckily, even this time they hear just a empty noise that means the missing of the bullet in the chamber. For the scare Penelope bursts into a coughing crisis that makes her eyes tear up and turns her whole face more red. Luke can’t have the time to scream his terror, fearing that he has condemned his colleague to death just for his inability to confess the truth, even in a such moment. The asshole is right, he could not have another occasion to do it. -You two were lucky, even this time.- he says, not happy, looking at the empty chamber as it had voluntary betrayed him. -Who knows how it will go the next.- he sight. -Penelope, truth or dare?- probably nobody expects the next move of the blonde.

-Dare.- she answers with an uncertain tone.

-Interesting choice.- in fact comments the asshole. -Well. You must hit your friend and dear colleague, as hard as you can, I want to see a good mark. That's what you want, deep inside of you, after what he told you and especially after he showed how much he doesn’t really care about your life, since he lied even though he knew what was at stake.- he steps that distance them and cuts with a single gesture the ribbon that wraps the wrists of the woman, so little careful to make a slight wound on her arm. Luke watches the red liquid gush out and feels his pulse increase; Penelope, on the other hand, doesn’t emit sound. -Or, if you prefer, you can use this.- he makes dancing in front of her the knife, like a hypnotizer in a magic show. -What are you choosing?- Penelope looks at the cold weapon and then her own hands, free.

-Don’t worry, Garcia, do what he want.- Luke tries to reassure her, understanding that she needs his approval. -It's all right, it will not hurt me and he's right, I deserve it.- he even manages to give her a small smile. The blonde closes her eyes and nods. Who knows if he has understood that she had to concentrate on the people who, many years later, she hated more in her life. She brings the arm back, the not injured, to give the right push and hits him. The psychopathic asshole this time can be said to be satisfied, because she left a nice mark on his cheek, in which all the fingers are perfectly distinguished. Yet, the slap doesn’t burn and he doesn’t even feel pain. All his concentration is on her, who falters kneeling before him, but free.

-Luke, please, I'm sorry, I...- before the asshole can put her brusquely to shut up, she has another attack of cough, so deep and intense that it seems to shake her body entirely, silencing her. The other makes a sign of denial with his head, as if to say that he doesn’t approve of this manifestation of remorse, while he ties her hands back behind her back, taking advantage to leave a slimy caress on her backside, which causes anger in the federal agent.

-You are right, you're trained to bear the pain, uh?- he passes the tongue on his lips. -Too bad. But she has respected the pacts, so I can’t shoot you.- again that sense of regret. -Where have you learned such techniques? Afghanistan? Iraq?- he nods to the last option. -I guessed.- he shrugs. -So, Luke, truth or dare?- he smiles at him, as if to suggest to him what he could do, if only he would let himself go completely.

-I will never choose dare.- but Luke fights, because he is certainly not less stubborn than the asshole. -You will not force me to hurt her.- he explains calmly and decisively, like death. -I prefer to die.- he concludes, and is neither lying nor joking, nor exaggerating.

-I assume you've still chosen truth.- he yawns. -You ae so boring.- he plays again with the revolver, in a kind of circus number, while Penelope surrenders to another series of coughs. -Have you ever betrayed a woman?- the man realizes how the blonde has totally unbalanced to better hear the response of her colleague and his dilated pupils, and this makes him smile with evil satisfaction.

-It depends on what is meant by betrayal.- Luke answers ambiguously. -If you mean the classic being with two feet in the same hoof ... never physically, never concretely, not even a kiss.- he admits, proud of himself, for once. -If you extend the concept... with the mind, often.- he just staring at the asshole in the eye, keeps his eyes fixed in his, not at all scared by the prospect of being sucked from his abyss. -I was with Lisa and I was also fine, but I always ended up making comparisons with another woman... one that I didn't even deserv to look.- he doesn’t know if he can guess that he is referring to Penelope. -Fortunately, she left me, because I'm so cowardly I would never have done it.- not even that is so difficult to admit. -And if we want to go even further, I cheated on my mother when I enlisted in the army even though I knew that this would cause her a heart attack.- which was not fatal just by a whisker, he only adds in his head, but after that, she wasn’t the same woman anymore. And he could ever forgive himself?

-Damned, I wasn’t expecting an answer like that, good job, SSA, you managed to amaze me.- he claps his hands, pleased, holding the weapon with a single finger. -Yes, Penelope, there's still a bullet that can’t wait to get stuck in your colleague's flesh filled of secrets.- Truth or dare? - she has no doubts this time, because she certainly can’t risk he could forcing her to put an end to her colleague's life... how could she not think about it before?

-Truth.- she answers in fact, in a tone without nuances. The head is about to burst, and the heart is on its way to reach it, not to mention the lungs, which burn as if she had inhaled live fire.

-You reacted so badly when he told you he lied about Phil... I bet he's the same friend who was tortured in his place.- he ignores the grimace that appears on Luke's face and confirms his suspicions. It is really true that the best profilers are the unknown subjects. -So... were you in love with him?- incredibly, the question manages to surprise her and she almost laughs, but she knows that it wouldn’t be a good choice, especially for her body, she doesn't care of what the asshole would do to her. She still feels condemned to leave this earth tonight.

-No, Phil... I liked him, very much.- she admits, and to think of him hurts. -I think that if I had been given the chance, I could have fall in love with him, but...- she catches a glare and seems to have been the only one to notice it. -...at the moment, and even now, my heart is already busy...- she starts talking, pretending to be more lost than it is and surprising for her ability to dominate the cough. -I couldn’t tell how long exactly. I think from the first time I saw this person...- she continues to stay on the vague, the glow increases, perhaps now also Luke saw it, but he is good at pretending to be in turn focused on that strange confession. -I think I immediately got a crush. And then gradually I fell in love. I'm in love with one of our colleagues.- she says, feeling everyone's attention catalyzed on her. -I understand, Luke, how you behaved, he was right, you lied: it wasn’t to not mix work and private life, it was because you thought I wasn’t enough for your best friend...- she abruptly changes the subject, but the asshole doesn’t have time to notice it, because a red dot appears to him exactly in the middle of his chest.

And then, that shout, finally. -FBI, you're surrounded. Give yourself up or we’ll shoot.- the relief is such that the sudden inflow of oxygen causes her a terrible pain in the chest, but she ignores it. The hands, still tied, are intertwined as a sign of hope.

-If you shoot, I take with me in the afterlife the blonde .- he replies, repeating the initial comedy. -What do you say, Penelope, do you want to take a trip?- but that is the last joke that he declaims on the stage of life, as Shakespeare loved to call it and before him a Spanish wrapped in the same shadow of mystery. Luckily, man falls backwards, right in front of the IT.

Prentiss makes her way through the agents and reaches them. -Luke, Penelope, are you ok?- she starts to untie the friend, while she is reached by Rossi who does the same with Latin. -Is anyone of you hurt?- she asks only for security.

Luke speaks first. -No, but she is sick, I don’t know what she has, I think it is a bronchial pneumonia, she has almost never ceased to cough.- he explains and Emily remembers the impression that she had just... one hour, at most an hour and half ago, on the phone. -It would be better if...- she nods and helps Penelope to stand up, noting the cut on the wrist, the blood now clotted.

-I understood.- she calls the paramedics. -Come here, it's here.- the lights finally stun the poor woman, who tries to stop them from taking her away in an ambulance.

-Please, Emily...- half of the sentence is absorbed by yet another cough -... don’t listen to him, I'm...- and the other from an even stronger attack. She understands that it is not worth attempting and she abandons herself, like a dead body, to the care of someone who can really help her. From the stretcher she still manages to see her adventure companion approaching one of the doctors.

-Can I go up in the ambulance with her?- she hears him ask, but his voice sounds distant and muffled, perhaps she has only imagined it because it was what she wanted to hear.

-Only if it doesn’t interfere with us.- a paramedic replies, abruptly, but then contraddicts himself with a half-smile, as if he too had become a profiler and had sensed what is between them. Yes, but what exactly is there between them?

As soon as they leave, she loses consciousness. Luke, trying to stay as much as possible on the sidelines, looks at the standard procedures to stabilize her and understands from their speeches that she is not so serious... but she is not even good. After having intubated her, the paramedic with whom he spoke earlier, beckons that he can now approach and tell her what he wants, but also to be brief and not to agitate her too much... or they will be forced to get rid of the excess ballast. -Penelope, darling, don’t worry.- he begins, realizing that this is the first time he calls her that way, but it's so good. -I will never leave you alone, as long as they allow me to be near you, understand?- she can’t answer him and her eyes are scared, frightened by that thing that prevents her from breathing in a normal way. -I'll always keep your hand.- he says, gently caressing her. -Do you want to answer a question? I promise that tonight is the last one.- he reassures her and understands that in another moment, she would have laughed at his joke. -A single squeeze for means yes and two for no.- Penelope proves to have understood the mechanism. -Ok. Is it true what you said in there, that... that you're in love with someone from the team?- another sign for the yes. -Well. Is a woman?- two squeezes. -No. So, it's one of the men... is he busy?- a longer pause than the previous ones, because Penelope is about to nod, but suddenly remembers that Luke told her that Lisa had left him. -This excludes Matt and Rossi.- he deduces, many intelligently. -So... is Reid?- the last fateful squeeze. -No. So... it's me. You're in love with me.- and this time there's no question mark at the end of the sentence. -No, don’t shake, I told you. I will not leave you alone. Everything will be all right and when you're better, when we're sure you're okay, we'll talk a bit.- he says, continuing to stroke her hand, the only thing he can do in a similar situation. How much is missing at the hospital? -Do you think you can forgive me for lying to you about Phil?- he breaks his promise.-It wasn’t because I thought you weren’t enough for him, and not even to keep the private sphere separate from the professional one, but because... I was jealous of you. I didn’t want to... that you were with another man.- but he also had to get rid of this burden, he couldn’t allow her to end under the knife without knowing the truth. -I know it was selfish behavior and I apologize, I will spend all my life apologizing, if you will allow me...- Penelope raises her arm just enough to be able to gently caress the man, who understands that is the only way she has to reassure him. -Falling in love with you was inevitable, like an unconditional reflex, I couldn’t do anything, like when you have to sneeze or cough, and you can try hard to hold it back, but in the end you have to let it come out.- he adds, even if in a low voice (he is not sure that she has heard it, because her eyes are closed), just as they enter the hospital entrance.

TAGS: @theshamelessmanatee  @arses21434 @kathy5654 @martinab26 @reidskitty13 @jenf42 @gracieeelizabeth27 @silviajajaja @smalliemichelle99 @charchampagne14 @thinitta   @myhollyhanna23 @garvezz @mercedes-maldonado  @shyladystudentfan @cosmicmelaninflower

[milky-writes]

Winter Song

Summary:  It’s in the middle of winter that forest witch Sanghyuk finds a hurt nymph in the forest and takes him home to help him get better. After all, it’s his job as the forest’s witch to help everyone living there.

Characters: Jaehwan X Sanghyuk

Written For: @yixingminseokjongdae

Written By: TBA

A/N:  For Christine~

-

Sanghyuk is really, really cold. Being the forest’s witch sadly also means that he has to go outside when it’s so horribly cold that not a single soul is seen and even the oldest trees complain about being too cold. But he has to check if everything is alright – something seems to be the matter, something is not right. He heard whispers all morning, from tree to tree, between the owls, between some of the other birds that stayed the winter: something is not right.

Judging from the fact all the hints are very vague to put it mildly, Sanghyuk assumes something must have happened in the heart of the forest where the trees are closer together, where it’s quieter, where the magic is the strongest.

So that’s where Sanghyuk is set to go. He’s wrapped in his thickest coat the elves at the southern outskirts of the forest’s heart gave him, his hands are buried in the pockets of his coat. He’s wearing a hat made of sheep’s wool and just hopes his nose will not freeze off. He’s wearing his favorite scarf, the one his mother made him.

Sanghyuk marches through the snow that reaches up to his calves, wondering why this couldn’t have happened in early spring. He’d have fared better with spring temperatures and a little bit of mud, really.

As he gets deeper into the forest, there are less fairies fluttering through the air, giggling, and leaving a trail of snowflakes behind them. They like the sun and light and the deeper you get into the forest, the darker it gets, logically. Sanghyuk isn’t here that often either. He checks up on the entire forest every now and then, but this part isn’t often disturbed as few humans even get that far and reason number one why his forest is disturbed is humans being humans.

It’s getting quieter as he walks on, the sounds muffled by the heavy snow on the trees and the lights dimmed.

Increasingly, Sanghyuk can feel the distress radiating off the trees and the animals that live here, the stray fairies don’t seem happy either. One of them flies close to him.

“There’s a nymph! He’s hurt! You have to help him!” She says, fluttering around his head and fussing about her pink dress. She gestures for him to follow him and starts zig-zagging off to his left throw the bushes. Sanghyuk curses quietly but hurries after her. What else can he do? Some branches snap into his face; once he gets snow directly into his collar. But in the end, he makes it to the place the fairy led him. It’s a small clearing, a little brighter with the sun shining down on them and the snow reflecting it. And in the middle, there’s a man lying in the snow, blood surrounding his leg like a macabre imitation of flower petals.

The man who seems to be a nymph judging from his clothing and the shape of his ears, groans. Sanghyuk walks over and can quickly determine the cause for that groan – and also for the blood around him. The bear trap with its spikes deep in the man’s calf is hard to miss.

The nymph looks up when Sanghyuk comes closer.

“Please… can you help me?” He pleads and Sanghyuk nods quickly. The man’s clothes must be soaked, and his white hair is plastered against his forehead. Sanghyuk kneels down next to him and quickly squeezes his hand once.

“It will be fine.”

Even with the help of so much magic that Sanghyuk wonders if collapsing for the next twelve hours straight is an option, it’s still a struggle to get the nymph who goes by the name of Jaehwan back to Sanghyuk’s cottage.

“I think it was humans, there’s been a few lately, even that deep in the forest and—oh, is that where you live? I love that,” Jaehwan says as he sees the house that’s got some rowans covered in snow on either side of the entrance and a wreath made of holly on the door itself.

“Thank you. But we really need to get you inside. It’s really cold and I want to treat the wound properly. I don’t get how you even walked on that thing,” Sanghyuk replies and Jaehwan shrugs.

“Those good nymph genetics. And I had help from the forest. Did its magic, ya know?”

Sanghyuk doesn’t really know but he nods regardless, also due to the fact that he has to help Jaehwan up the step and into the house. The door swings open on its own accord for which Sanghyuk is fairly grateful for once (not so much when the house lets people enter he doesn’t necessarily want to see but who still come to bother him in some way).

“Taekwoon, can you get me a towel?” He asks his familiar, a black cat with yellow eyes who can change into a human if he feels so inclined which he strangely only does when he’s around Hakyeon. Now that he’s stopped pretending he’s only an ordinary cat; the sole reason for that pretense being so that he can lie in Hakyeon’s lap undisturbed.

Meanwhile, Sanghyuk helps Jaehwan on the couch, making sure not to jostle his leg too much. He stopped the bleeding with a makeshift bandage, but it needs to be cleaned properly.

It doesn’t take long for Taekwoon to return with not only a few towels but also a bowl with warm water and a cloth.

“Bless you,” Sanghyuk says and Taekwoon doesn’t reply but changes back into a cat and jumps on Jaehwan’s stomach, curling up there like a big, black ball of comforting warmth.

“It’s too cold,” Sanghyuk grumbles as he comes back from searching for herbs for some potions he wants to make. Jaehwan looks up from where he is sitting on the couch, his hurt leg carefully stretched out. It’s easy to see that being made to sit is not easy for him. He’s too full of energy to enjoy it.

“But it’s beautiful! I love winter! The snow, the way some animals are curled up cozily. But especially the snow and the frost, covering everything. Like some soft blanket. The snowflakes dancing around you.” He sighs in happiness.

“Maybe if you’re a nymph. As a witch it’s just really freezing.” He pauses. “What kind of nymph are you by the way? You haven’t told me yet.”

Jaehwan grins cheekily. “Guess.”

Sanghyuk rolls his eyes but indulges him, smiling, as he unwraps his scarf from his neck.

“An oak?” he guesses. Jaehwan shakes his head.

“Rose?” Again, that’s not it, apparently.

“Holly?”

“Nah, that’s not it either. I guess it was a little mean and maybe I should have introduced myself earlier. I’m the spirit of the forest. I watched from the shadows to see how well a young witch like you would do protecting my forest.”

Sanghyuk looks at him dumbfounded, his slightly wet hat in his hand.

“Oh,” is all he says. All he can say. Then: “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Thanks for helping me out. Stepping into a human trap was a little embarrassing for me.” Jaehwan’s eyes crinkle cutely when he beams at Sanghyuk. “You’re doing well though.”

Sanghyuk blushes a little and busies himself with putting his wet hat, gloves and scarf up to dry.

“You like him,” Taekwoon says, his long legs swinging back and forth merrily from where he’s sitting on the table in the middle of what Sanghyuk likes to call his office. It’s here that he makes potions and ointment, little spells and talismans.

“He’s nice and funny,” Sanghyuk relents and keeps chopping up the valerian root.

“That’s not what I meant.”

Sanghyuk knows that but he doesn’t want to discuss how he thinks Jaehwan is beautiful with Taekwoon. He’d tease him endlessly and also tell his former teacher, Hakyeon, who would fuss and tease him.

So Sanghyuk doesn’t reply and ignores how he knows Jaehwan only needs to stay a day or two more until he can walk again properly.

“I’ll visit regularly, don’t worry. At least once a week,” Jaehwan promises as he wraps his arms around Sanghyuk, saying goodbye for now. He said he had to look after his forest. Sanghyuk understands, because that’s his job as well.

He doesn’t want to ask whether Jaehwan would take him with him. They could do that together, right? That would be more efficient.

“Don’t forget to visit! I’ll make the tea you enjoyed so much. And I want to check if your foot heals properly.”

Jaehwan nods and when he reaches the trees at the end of the clearing in which Sanghyuk’s cottage is built, he turns around again and waves.

Sanghyuk waves back.

“I brought you flowers!” Jaehwan says happily and holds out a bunch of snowdrops out for Sanghyuk. It’s been a week since Jaehwan left and sometimes Sanghyuk was scared he had only imagined the spirit of the forest. Maybe he was going insane. But then Jaehwan stands in front of the door, beaming like the sun itself.

Sanghyuk puts the flowers into a glass in he middle of his table in the kitchen and smiles every time he sees them.

It’s late February when Sanghyuk notices a change in Jaehwan. His pristine white hair is… not as white as it used to be. But maybe Sanghyuk is imagining it. He surely must be.

He focuses again on Jaehwan’s story about the humans in the forest a few days ago.

“I let the will-o’-wisps have a little fun with them. They’re so cute when they’re happy, you know? But eventually I stopped them, and the humans went home again, thoroughly confused. They went in circles for like an hour. I don’t want them coming so close to the forest’s heart anyway.”

A few weeks later Jaehwan’s hair is undeniably light pink when he holds out a crocus he picked for Sanghyuk.

“Happy Spring,” he says with a smile and Sanghyuk laughs a little and accepts the flower.

He comes by more often than only once a week now. It’s more every day now.

“Does your hair change color?” Sanghyuk asks later as Jaehwan watches him make potions.

The forest spirit nods. “It’s white in winter and pink in spring. It’s a warm brown in summer and turns red in autumn.”

Sanghyuk looks at him in awe. “That’s amazing. I love that.”

Jaehwan laughs. “Thank you. It’s been like this for as long as I can remember.”

“How did you become the spirit of the forest, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Jaehwan shrugs and picks up one of Sanghyuk’s potion books, browsing through it. “One day, I was here, and I felt the forest like it was an extension of myself. I just knew what to do. I don’t think there’s one of those scientific explanations humans are so keen on.”

When Jaehwan shows Sanghyuk the cherry blossoms by the river, he asks Sanghyuk about how he became the witch of the forest.

“The old witch went away, I don’t know where. I was just done being an apprentice, so I volunteered to go here.”

It’s here that Jaehwan first takes Sanghyuk’s hand and therefore makes his heart skip a beat.

Their summer is spent with Taekwoon’s and, occasionally, Hakyeon’s smug glances when the witch and the forest spirit spend more time with each other. The latter pair ignore the glances and only have eyes for each other; it’s obvious for everyone around them what’s going on between them, just not necessarily for the two of them.

Jaehwan’s hair has turned a warm brown and while Sanghyuk mourns the pink, he still thinks Jaehwan looks great with the new color as well. It gets a light bronze-ish shimmer as summer progresses. They lie in the grass in front of Sanghyuk’s cottage and eat the strawberries they picked. Jaehwan’s lips are stained red and Sanghyuk concentrates on watching the clouds in the sky once he realizes what he has noticed.

Jaehwan’s hair turns red and autumn comes fast; at first it’s still warm, then it gets cold very fast and Sanghyuk starts getting out his favorite scarf again, one that’s green and soft and that his mother made for him.

Jaehwan still walks on his bare feet and giggles when he jumps into puddles, getting Sanghyuk’s trousers wet. Sanghyuk chases him through half the forest in retaliation.

“They are so in love and yet so blind,” Hakyeon says as he sits next to Taekwoon on the porch, like an old married couple, Taekwoon leaning against Hakyeon sleepily while they watch the two of them.

“I know they are. It’s really bad to watch sometimes.”

And then Jaehwan’s hair turns a frosty white again and Sanghyuk can barely believe it’s been a year now that he met the spirit of the forest. Somehow, the forest has been thriving during that year and neither Sanghyuk nor Jaehwan even did that much to cause that.

Sanghyuk wonders what that is about aloud, telling Taekwoon, who just turns into a cat in annoyance and disappears to only gods know where he always goes. He is still partly a cat, after all, so it’s only natural.

It’s really, really cold outside, again. But Sanghyuk doesn’t mind as much when he sits inside, in his cozy living room, on the couch, with Jaehwan leaning against him and holding his hand.

“I’m glad I met you,” Jaehwan says. “Thank you for helping me, stitching me back together.” They never did find the human who put the trap; although Sanghyuk doesn’t know if it’s important: there were hardly any human interferences all year long.

“I like helping,” Sanghyuk replies simply. “But,” he adds, “I’m also very glad I met you. My year was wonderful.” He blushes. He’s not good with feelings; it’s hard for him to express them. Magic has always been easier, has helped him showhow he feels. He can grow flowers, that’s his gift; the rest is craft. All the potion mixing, amulets, spells, that’s what Hakyeon taught him.

The way he opens his hand and makes a daisy grow from his palm in the middle of winter, that’s purely Sanghyuk and nobody else.

“It’s so cute. I love daisies, and I love when you make flowers grow,” Jaehwan says and smiles.

Sanghyuk smiles back at him. “I know. It’s yours,” he says, and gently picks up the flower, tucks it behind Jaehwan’s ear.

It’s quiet for a moment and then Jaehwan breaks the silence again. Silence, stillness… he doesn’t like that. Jaehwan is the spirit of a whole forest, he’s all about change and growth.

“Let’s go outside,” Jaehwan says, and Sanghyuk agrees, but with a little sigh because he knows it’s very, very cold.

They take a walk and it’s quiet. The snow muffles their foot steps but it scrunches under their soles. A branch breaks a few steps away from them and they see a deer hurrying away from them. Sometimes, they let them come close; it’s mostly Jaehwan they let approach them.

“Remember the little pond I showed you last summer? With the little waterfall where we swam?” Jaehwan asks.

Sanghyuk remembers that very well. He remembers Jaehwan splashing him with water, he remembers them giggling and lying by the side of the pond in the sun after some time. He remembers their little picnic under the summer stars and the way the frogs croaked close by. So he nods.

The waterfall is frozen over now and Sanghyuk shudders when he thinks about the temperature the water must have now: far too cold. But still, it looks nice, the way the water is frozen over, the way the snow flakes have started falling again, are dancing over the glittering surface.

Sanghyuk doesn’t think he’ll ever forget the way it looks, the way the cold nips at his cheeks. He doesn’t forget he will ever forget the feeling when Jaehwan turns to him, takes his hands in his and gently kisses his lips.

“I love you, Sanghyuk,” he says, his breath warm against Sanghyuk’s lips.

The witch’s eyes light up, his eyes crinkle as he smiles. “And I love you, Jaehwan,” he says, and he kisses the spirit of the forest again.

And although the next spring, there’s more flowers blooming than ever, and although the summer is warm and is more beautiful than many others, and although autumn is more colorful than before, Sanghyuk still thinks he likes winter the most now.

[the-tales-of-horror]

The little man walks at night

Original Link By captainelf

I went back to the shacks tonight. Princess doesn’t like it, but I have to do something. The shacks is where my family stay; sisters, my brother. Not all of them are as lucky as I am to have a live-in job. Baas and Madam allow me to sleep inside their house rather than in the room out back, because Baas says I have to help with Princess when his wife cannot.

Baas is my master, my boss, and I am his maid. I don’t like Madam - she neglects Princess. Princess’ name is Sarah, and I’ve been with her and her family since she was a small child. She is so small, so pretty, and she likes it when I call her Princess. I cannot have children, so I think of her as mine. I’m black, I’m a maid, and I don’t have a complete education. I mean, I don’t even know Madam’s name. Baas has asked me to call him on his name many times - Cedric - but it is not in my culture. Living in a post-Apartheid world isn’t what they promised it would be. We were supposed to get houses, get enough food and water, but we still live in sink shacks outside the town, we still have to carry water to our shacks in buckets and bury our own excrement.

Yes, a post-Apartheid South Africa is now what it should be.

Tonight, it was time to call upon the ancestor spirits for their guidance. My sisters have not gotten new jobs yet, and the landlord will throw them out. So they asked me to go to Boka, and talk to her. Maybe Boka will find out why the ancestors have been so hard on us. On them.

Boka, which is what I call her - her name is Bokamoso, and she’s our sangoma. A sangoma is a witch doctor, if it makes it easier to understand, and she can predict the future, she can converse with the ancestors and she can make spells.

Boka is the only one in our tribe that doesn’t live in a shack. She lives in a hut made from clay and cow excrement, with a roof made of straw. Inside the shack it’s interesting, because she doesn’t sleep on a bed, she sleeps on a matt made of thick straw and twine. When she saw me, her eyes brightened.

“Sinah! My old friend!” She greeted me with a hug, “What brings you here today?”

As if she didn’t already know. She peered at me from between her dreadlocks, which fell over her dark brown eyes, which stood out even more from the stark white make-up (or flour, possibly). It was creepy, but I’ve known Boka for the majority of my life.

“My sisters…” I started, but she cut me off.

“Ah, yes. They have displeased the ancestors, and they must make a sacrifice to appease them.” Boka said, settling down on her matt, and she gestured at me to sit down too.

“What sacrifice?”

“A goat. Under the light of the next full moon, they must sacrifice a goat to the ancestors.” I nodded. I figured as much, but we had to check with Boka to be sure. “And you, Rosina?” She asked, her tone suddenly serious, “You still have feelings for the white man?”

My dark skin grew even darker in my blush. Yes, I was infatuated with Baas Cedric. He was a kind man, a strong man, and he cared for little Sarah like a father should. My own father had left my mother when he found out she was with child. Baas Cedric always included me in everything - he took me along on family vacations, he bought me ice cream when Sarah asked him to, he had a smile that… that… it made me feel so soft inside.

“It is not wise, Sinah,” Said the sangoma, her tone now dark, “But whatever you do, take care of your little Princess.”

I nodded. Just then, a new figure entered her hut. I screamed - I have heard of these creatures, but I have never seen one before. It was once a man, but now its body was shrivelled up, his skeleton smaller than he was when he was a man, folds of rotting skin falling over one another as walked to Boka. His hair was a messy bunch of curls, and slung over his shoulder was his penis.

The tokoloshe. The African goblin. The Nguni, as we called it. I stared at it, clutching my chest, feeling my heartbeat rapidly in my chest.

You see, the Nguni is a terrible creature. It was once a man - a tall man, who worked, had a family and had pride. When he died, Boka resurrected him. I don’t know how she did it, but it is probably better that I didn’t know. The man had shrunk into himself, now a small replica of who he was before. Legend has it that if a tokoloshe lays down between a wife and a husband, the wife will never be satisfied in bed again. If that didn’t work, the tokoloshe would use his long penis to his advantage and rape the woman - where she would never be satisfied again. The tokoloshe is good for breaking up relationships, and never harms a child.

“Calm down, Sinah, he’s not here for you,” Said Boka, and the creature skulked towards her. “Are you done?” The creature nodded. “I will give you what you want. Rosina, my friend, I must ask you to leave.”

I left, because I knew what he wanted, and I also knew that I didn’t want to see her giving it to him.

I left and went to my shack that I shared with my sisters. I told them what Boka had told me, and they looked on the calendar to find when the next full moon would be.

I, on the other hand, had a different idea. Maybe… maybe I could get Madam and Baas Cedric to separate. I wasn’t no sangoma, but Boka and I were close. She wouldn’t help me, so I did the next best thing: I Googled it.

I went to the graveyard and looked for freshly covered graves. One where the mud and sand were still loose. I started a fire next to the grave, and put a steel poker in it, so that it could get warm.

This reminded me of me roasting mopani worms for the princess. She likes it when I bring them to her, though her mother would probably have a fit.

And I started to dig. I did the gardening at work, so I'm no stranger to hard work, and soon I hit the hardwood of the cheap casket he had been buried in.

I broke open the casket, and held my breath as the stench of death filled my nostrils. I heaved his body out, and pulled him out of the grave.

I pulled him until he was right next to fire - and, believe me, the next part was something I would rather avoid. I dug my fingers into his eye-sockets and pulled out the small, rubber-like balls from his skull. The left one persisted.

Next I opened his mouth, reached in and cut off his tongue. The deep red piece of flesh made me squirm, but at least I wasn't causing the man any pain.

I took the poker from the fire and thrust it into his skull. His entire body convulsed violently, before it became still again.

Earlier I had ground up some dust. Rhino horn powder, dried barley and sage. I took it into my hand, tried not to shiver, and bent over the corpse, blowing the powder into its tongue-less mouth.

As I stood, the man shrivelled up. His body quartered in size, and the inexpensive suit he'd been wearing was not empty.

I heard a grunt. Beneath the clothes there was movement, and out sprung my creation. A small man, dirty dreadlocks hanging over his eyes, or what was once his eyes. Now his eye-sockets were filled with the colour of burning gold.

I left. The ritual said that he would know what to do, that he would come later and do my bidding.

The next day I went home. Princess was so happy to see me, she didn't even complain when I asked her to fill Whiskers’ bowl. Whiskers is the family cat, a big red mangy beast, and sometimes I think Madam loves that cat more than she loves little Sarah. She's always cooing about him, showering him in kisses, while Sarah gets the littlest of attention.

The woman is a nightmare to work for. I know I'm lucky - not many black maids get a place to live with their work. But I would leave if it hadn't been for Baas Cedric and my princess.

I gave her two mopani worms before bed. They're always in my pockets, they are Sarah’s special candies.

When I laid down on my bed that night, my sleep was uneasy. I kept seeing those eyes being pulled from the corpse, and the tongue I cut off…

“Sinah! SINAH! Please!” Sarah's voice jerked me back to consciousness. She was pounding on my door, sobbing on the other side. “Sinah!”

I flew up and wrenched the door open. Princess almost fell into my room, but she yelled at me to lock the door.

After I did just that, I lead her to my bed.

“Princess, what…” I began, but she cut me off, holding me tightly.

“There was a little… a little man… and he was so dirty and he smelled do bad…” She managed to say between sobs. I calmed her down.

“It was just a dream, Princess. Come on, sleep next to your Sinah tonight. I won't let any monster harm you.”

What had I done?

“You go to sleep. I'll stay awake and make sure he doesn't hurt you.”

She nodded, and I wiped the tears from her eyes. I hummed to her, clutching her against my chest, until I felt her breathing slow down against me. I didn't stop humming all night.

The next night, Wednesday night, I didn't make empty promises of watching out for her nightmares. It was moot, because the nightmare had become a reality.

But I did hear scratching at my door. I heard the tokoloshe groaning. “Frrrriend…. frrriend.... mistress… why?”

How was he able to talk? I cut out his tongue and threw it in his grave! What had I done wrong?

When morning came, Princess and I went through their whole shed for bricks. When each of us had two in hand, we returned to her bedroom. I lifted the bed, and she shoved a brick under each foot.

The huli, the tokoloshe, will not go near a bed on bricks. Old saying - it's why we still do it in the shacks. Sangomas can both curse and bless you. And you do not want the curse of the tokoloshe upon you.

I turned to the small girl. “Listen to me, Princess,” I said, “That little man can’t hurt you now. He can’t scare you. The bed, it’s too tall, he can’t reach you on it. I promise.”

From the look on her face, I could tell that she didn't believe me. So I promised her that I would stay in her bed with her tonight.

After that, Madam started to yell at me for not having fed the cat yet.

It was that evening when my pet showed up again. I was washing the dishes, and whilst elbow-deep in sudsy water, I heard the red beast roaring. Okay, hissing.

Then a sickening crunch and more hissing. I ran to the window, leaving a trail of white foam in my wake. I saw him, and he was holding the cat tightly by the tail. When those burning eyes caught sight of me, he cackled, and slammed the cat against the wall of the shed. The creature’s head exploded onto the wall, leaving an inky stain on the wood. I could see brains on the floor. The beast then held the fat cat above his head, and ripped it in two.

I screamed.

I screeched.

I sobbed.

Cedric came. Princess came even faster. Madam brought up the rear, complaining loudly about me disturbing her family time. Then she proceeded to scream at me in full-on banshee mode that I had made a mess of the floor.

All whilst my creation ran off. And all that was left, was blood and a few tufts of ginger hair.

I pointed a shaky (and still sudsy) hand at the remains of the cat. Madam saw it and sang the song of her people, the banshees, in an octave so high that I was sure a dead dog could hear it.

She ran out, screaming, sobbing, to the entrails. She picked up his tail, and tried to scoop some entrails together, as the night sky was filled with her sobs. I really felt bad for her.

I felt even worse when Princess chose to comfort me, and when Cedric put an arm around my shoulders.

Cedric spoke to me, but I didn’t hear much. What had I done? This was… This was not normal… Was it?

Was it?

“Rosina, what happened?” Cedric’s voice managed to move through my consciousness.

“There… there was a little man… and he… Baas, he slapped the cat against the wall…” I sobbed, and Cedric took one last look at his wife, before he escorted me to my bedroom. He told Princess to leave me alone for the night.

The next day Cedric didn’t go to work, and I finished cleaning the kitchen. The water was now icy and dirty, the soap gone, and I drained the water. Outside the shed was still full of deep red blood, but Cedric was trying to clean it. He had a hosepipe spraying the shed, and a large bucket of water and soap at his side. The blood wasn’t going anywhere, but the entrails were gone.

Madam screamed at me for leaving the dishes unwashed, and the floor full of suds and muddy footprints. She likes to scream at me, but I endure it.

After Madam screamed at me for the seventh time in an hour, Cedric told me that I could get off work early today. I thanked him - I overstepped my boundaries, because I threw myself into his arms in a thankful hug. I retired to my room, and heard Cedric tell the Princess that she should leave me alone.

If I knew her - and I knew that little girl best - she was on her bed, clutching a stuffed toy to her chest.

I waited for darkness to fall, knowing that my pet, my nightmare, would return. I just didn’t expect him to do what he did. Just before midnight I went to get a glass of water.

And that was when I saw him.

He was waiting in the hallway, his golden, burning eyes finding me. I felt like he had been waiting for me. “Misstress…. I’vvvee… been waiting….”

“What do you want?” I scream-whispered at him.

“I… wannnnt… youuu…” He said, and when I didn’t answer, he cackled and scampered towards Madam and Baas Cedric’s room. He turned to look at me, his dreadlocks only somewhat obscuring his eyes, but not the air of what he wanted to do. He slipped into their bedroom with a soft cackle. I ran after it, having no idea what it was going to do.

The light was on, and Cedric was on the bed. He saw the little beast, saw me, and wanted to speak, but then the tokoloshe was on him. The tokoloshe jumped on him, his teeth at Cedric’s throat. He ripped out Cedric’s throat, blood spraying against the wall and over the bedding… over my dress, over the towels draped over the chair at the desk… he gurgled one last time, and his body stopped moving. Dead.

I screamed. I screamed my throat hoarse, and then Madam came into the room. She saw what happened, and she screamed too. The tokoloshe cackled again, loudly, evilly, before he jumped out of the window.

“Madam!” I yelled, trying to think clearly, “Madam, we have to get Sarah, and get out of here.”

“Fuck you. Fuck you, I’m not getting her. I’m not staying in this goddamn place another minute!” Madam yelled, her face white with terror. Madam always swore, but never at her child. I was horrified.

“You can’t leave her!” I countered, pushing her back, trying to keep her in place. “You can’t just leave her, she’s your child!”

“FUCK my child!” screamed Madam. Madam pushed past me, and I fell against the wall. I didn’t know what to do, because… well, I fucked up. Borrowing from Madam’s vocabulary - I fucked up royally. The man I loved was dead. I allowed myself to grieve, to look at the blood-spattered room and at the man I loved.

Madam’s loud footsteps thumped down the stairs, she got into her car and drove away.

I saw the burning gold and heard the cackle again. I ran. To the Princess’ room, because her bed had the bricks, and she was safe. I didn’t even bother to knock, with all the screaming I assumed that she was awake. I had to stop her from seeing her father.

She saw me, and her eyes flitted to the red streak on my dress. She sat up.

“Sinah, is that blood?!” She shrieked, her eyes wide, clutching her stuffed animal to her chest.

“Shh, quiet, Princess,” I said. “Everything is going to be okay. I promise.”

“What happened? Where’s dad?” She asked. I didn’t want to answer, but I didn’t want to lie to her either.

“Your dad had to go away for a little while. Don’t worry, Princess, he told me to take good care of you. And I will. I’m going to take very, very good care of you.”

Just then, we heard something else. It was a strange, shrieking laugh - I slammed the door behind me, scrambled onto her bed with her. Her mother had left, and I couldn’t, I wouldn’t, leave her. She was my Princess.

“Sinah, please, what’s happening? I’m scared,” She said, her voice quivering. Her face was ashen, and… I didn’t know.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay, it’s alright. If we stay here, we’ll be okay.” I tried to sound confident, but I knew that the Princess knew that I was lying.

“Mistress...frriend… Missstressss… frrrrriend…” The tokoloshe said, and I clutched the little girl to me. She breathed heavily, as though she thought it was there for her. It wasn’t. I hoped it wasn’t.

“Hush now, Princess, it’s okay, hush now.” I took her into my arms, and sang. A lullaby passed down from my mother to my sisters and I.

Siembamba, mamma se kindjie

Siembamba, mamma se kindjie

Draai sy nek om

Gooi hom in die sloot

Trap op sy kop

Dan is hy dood

We stayed up all night. We heard the beast calling us. I didn’t want to explain why he called me mistress to my little Princess.

Once morning came, the tokoloshe went away, and I told Sarah to pack a bag or two, and a few toys. We were going to my village, to the little sink shacks and the sangoma. If anyone knew what to do, it would be Bokamoso.

[cooperjones2020]

What’s Past is Prologue, What to Come

The first in a series of interrelated vignettes from Jughead Jones’s obsession with Betty Cooper. Can be read with Marked, part 1 and part 2.

Starts in childhood and will go partway through season 1. If I don’t get bored.

Dark!Jug, Creepy!Jug, Stalker!Jug, generally Sociopathic!Jug

TW for implied abuse, and, as always, gratuitous Shakespeare references

(ao3-->http://archiveofourown.org/works/11394858/chapters/25519734)

The day he met Betty was the day he discovered the monster in his chest.

He stared at her through the boughs of the shrub he’d been sitting in for the last five minutes.

Now that the sun had sunk below the eaves of the house, the underside of the boxwood hedge was dark and cool. The shiny leaves brushed against him, tickling his skin and snagging on his hat. He heard Archie, still counting, through the open bedroom window, but he knew the other boy wouldn’t find him here. Even then Jughead Jones knew Archie Andrews wasn’t very smart. For starters, he hadn’t actually meant that Archie should count to a hundred when he said count to a hundred. Archie kept messing up thirty-three and thirty-four and having to go back.

But that was okay. Archie always had new comic books and he didn’t mind sharing his legos. Plus, when they went over to the Andrews for dinner, there was always enough for seconds. Usually thirds too.

In his green and dappled fortress, Jughead hunkered down for a nice quiet wait. He had a dead frog in his pocket that he’d picked up on the walk over.

Then the gate opened and what he could only describe as a cartoon character come to life walked through. The little girl had curled blonde pigtails, a stiff pink dress, and saddle shoes with ruffled socks. She was the cleanest thing he’d ever seen. She actually glowed.

She also had a tupperware container.

Jughead debated whether or not to come out. On the one hand, Archie was almost done counting and if he came out, he’d almost certainly lose. On the other hand, if he didn’t come out he might not get to eat whatever was in the tupperware. He’d already eaten two hot dogs but he also knew he’d eaten the end of the cereal at their house that morning.

Then the back door opened and Archie ran out, his orange head almost as strong a beacon as her yellow one. “Betty, you came!”

“Of course I did, Archie! And look, my mom sent us brownies!”

Brownies. Okay he was coming out.

He emerged from his crouch in the hedge and the girl—Betty—looked startled.

“Wow, that was a good hiding place, Jug! I never would have found you.”

Jughead shrugged at Archie, but stayed in his place in the bush, his hand around the frog in his pocket.

“Come meet Betty! She’s my new neighbour and she has a sister and a cat and her parents are putting a swimming pool in their yard!”

The girl rolled her eyes. “Archie, I said that was a secret!”

“Jughead’s my best friend, Betty. Secrets don’t count with best friends.” Jughead didn’t think that was true. He was pretty sure there were things his dad hadn’t told Mr. Andrews. Like for instance, he was pretty sure Mr. Andrews didn’t know about the stuff his dad brought home from work. But this didn’t seem to be the moment to point it out.

She moved forward. “Hi Jughead, I’m Betty. Do you want a brownie?”

“Yes.” He stepped out of the shrub and reached up a hand to make sure his hat was on tightly.

He ate three brownies and drank a glass of milk while Archie and Betty argued about what they should play. Archie insisted girls couldn’t play with GI Joes. Betty insisted he was wrong. GI Joe looked exactly like Ken so if Archie wouldn’t share a GI Joe with her, she’d just go bring one of her Ken dolls over. And maybe she’d bring Barbie too.

Archie’s eyes widened in horror. Jughead watched their exchange. The sheer speed with which words left her mouth was disorienting. He didn’t think he’d ever heard either of his parents talk that fast. Or that much.

But he was also fascinated by her hands. She kept making fists and releasing them. They curled so tightly he knew they had to be hurting her. But she kept them by her sides. She never raised them like his father sometimes did late at night.

Archie called him back to the present. “Jug, tell her a Ken doll is not the same as a GI Joe. Ken is for girls.”

Jughead had never seen a Ken doll, but he also didn’t want Betty to leave. So he sided with Betty. Archie only looked hurt for a moment before shrugging and running upstairs for the basket of toys.

He didn’t understand why he couldn’t stop staring at her.

He watched her from his place to her left on the grass. For all Archie’s complaining, as soon as they’d started playing, he’d let Betty take charge of the game. She was currently collecting rocks from around her and ordering Archie to fetch extra food. The GI Joes were going on a stakeout in the desert.

She turned big green eyes on him and asked if he wanted to help her build their fort. He scooted a little bit closer.

When her mother called her home, a sharp Elizabeth traveling over the tall, white fence, Betty had looked scared. Immediately, Jughead had a vision of her mom as a fire-breathing dragon. Or as the evil stepmother wanting to lock Betty away in a tower. Something black and foreign clawed its way up his throat and for a moment his vision tunneled. The thing roared in his ears. Jughead had never wanted to play knight before, but he wanted to protect Betty Cooper. He wanted a sword to swing and charge and whack at her mother.

He watched her slip back through the gate and into her own yard. Through the slats of the fence, he could see her mother yelling, saying things like You knew what time you had to be home and where is my tupperware and how did you get grass stains on your dress. Betty stared at her shoes. Jughead wished again for a sword. He wished the thing inside him could come out. Archie kept playing with his GI Joe.

That night, when Archie fell asleep, Jughead rolled out of his sleeping bag and crept to the windowsill. Her curtains were open. A nightlight illuminated a tiny figure hunched on the bed. If he didn’t breathe, he could hear the strangled sound of her crying.

Without thinking, he pulled the head off the GI Joe that had been on the floor next to him.

He wanted to hit whoever made Betty cry. He wanted to hit Betty so she’d keep crying.

When his mother left for Toledo the first time, taking a black eye and a ten month-old Jellybean with her, when his father said he was too young to be left alone and dropped him off at the Andrews for a couple hours that turned into five days, Betty Cooper baked him cookies.

By then, he was used to her feeding him.  The instances in which Betty appeared at the Andrews house unaccompanied by baked goods were few and far between. She seemed to use them to unlock the magic door that kept her imprisoned. She used them cut a path in the tangled forest that isolated her tower. She used them like an excuse so her mother would let her come over.

The times Archie wasn’t home, the times his parents would fight and Jughead would sneak his way past them or out his window, and would run and run and climb until he could fling himself into the treehouse in the corner of Archie’s yard, Betty’s blonde head would appear, quickly followed a small plastic bag or a tupperware container. When he was really lucky, she’d also bring a sandwich.

On the third day of Gladys and FP’s absence, when Jughead was beginning to wonder if he was an orphan, Betty had arrived.

Betty told him these cookies were special. Polly, older than them and so infinitely wise, had helped bake them. Archie was made to promise not to eat any. They had chocolate chips but no walnuts, which her mom normally put in. They had reese’s pieces. They had pretzels. And they were as big as two of his hands.

He ate four while Betty took off her coat.

As usual, he noted how clean she was. He wasn’t sure if pink was her favourite color — he’d never asked her — but she sure wore it a lot. Today, though, she had a white gauze bandage wrapped around her right forearm.

Polly the infinitely wise hadn’t been able to find the oven mitts. “So I used a dish towel, only it didn’t work as good. So when my hands got too hot — well I’m not sure cause it happened so fast — but I think I must have tried to balance the tray on my arm instead and then I burned myself.” Tears sprung to her eyes and her lower lip wobbled. “Juggie, it hurt.”

The black thing in his chest, the monster, shifted in its cage. He hugged Betty, because that’s what you were supposed to do. That’s what Mrs. Andrews had done the day before when Jughead had stubbed his toe and said a word that made Archie turn as red as his hair.

Betty sighed and turned her face into his neck.

“What if I sign it? We can color it and draw pictures.”

“It’s not a cast, Juggie.”

“So? It looks the same. And then when you look at it, you can remember how much fun coloring is instead of how much it hurt.” She looked at him the way baby Jellybean sometimes did.

Betty had been right, though. A gauze bandage was not the same as a cast. He’d picked a red marker and Betty had picked a pink one — maybe that really was her favorite color — but soon after they started, the colors began to bleed together, and Betty winced and then she started to cry for real. Something darker than the red marker reached up and swallowed the letters of their names.

Mrs. Andrews wasn’t mad. Mrs. Andrews was never mad. Jughead had never even heard her yell. She just took Betty into the bathroom and sat her on the toilet and pulled out a first aid kit.

Jughead hovered in the doorway, shifting from foot to foot. His eyes bugged out when she unwrapped the bandage.

A red, shiny patch as big as a baseball covered the inside of Betty’s forearm. But in the middle of that, old, brown blood had crusted, and something yellow and oozing seeped around it. The red of the fresh blood flowed in and through the the raised yellow bits, making tracks like water between tiles. Tiny blisters ringed the whole mess. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from it.

It was made up of brighter versions of the same colors Betty’s fists made when she clenched them.

But soon enough, Mary had it rewrapped, with a fresh layer of neosporin under the bandage. Betty smiled at him through the droplets that clung to her eyelashes.

“It’s probably time for you to go home now, Betty. We don’t want your mom to be mad.”

“Okay,” said Betty in a small voice. She hugged Jughead and ran out.

When Betty left, Jughead retreated to the treehouse with his cookies. Mr. and Mrs. Andrews had been making Archie leave him alone unless he said he wanted company. He didn’t.

He’d discovered he could see into Betty’s room. She’d forgotten her Nancy Drew binoculars the week before and he could use them to see through her window to the mirror above her dresser. And then he could usually see her sitting on her bed. It wasn’t as good as the view from Archie’s window, but it was good enough.

Jughead took the red and yellow markers out of his pocket. He used his right arm to draw on his left.

When it had been nine days, FP returned. He smelled and his beard had grown in and Jughead was pretty sure he was wearing the same clothes. Mr. Andrews had given him a look, a look Jughead had noticed passing between the two men increasingly often, but ultimately, Jughead had been bundled into his coat and sent back to the trailer park.

He went inside but his dad stopped to sit on the steps. When Jughead came back to check on him a while later, he had fallen asleep. Jughead sidled around to his front. There was a small, familiar lump in FP’s front shirt pocket. He reached in and removed the lump gingerly, then snuck back inside with it clutched in his hand. Curled up in his bed with his back to the door, he cupped a palm around the lighter and flicked the flame on and off.

[miraculouslanceylance]

Gajevy Week 2017 Bonus Prompt: an au

AU: Crazy cat hoarder and their allergic-to-cats neighbor

Rating: G if that’s how rating books even works, idk I should really look that up

Levy sneezes to herself for what feels like the fiftieth time that morning. She frowns, searching the web for an allergy medicine that doesn’t possibly end in death. It’s a lot harder than it should be. Giving up yet again, Levy shuts her laptop and sneezes. She scratches her arms and legs. “I can’t keep living like this,” she says to herself.

Levy had a neighbor move in across the hall from her. Her apartment complex allows pets of pretty much all kinds, and her new neighbor is a crazy cat hoarder. The funny thing is, you’d never be able to tell by looking at him. With his facial piercings, intimidating red eyes, and an all black wardrobe, he seems more goth than a cuddly cat lover.

At first, Levy was excited to have a new neighbor. The last tenants enjoyed themselves a little too loudly and too carelessly at night. But this guy is quiet, he rarely talks and he didn’t even ask anyone to help move his stuff. But then the cats moved in with him, and Levy’s been throwing constant sneezing fits for days now. “That’s it, I’ve got to say something,” she says to herself.

Levy throws on a clean brown hoodie and a long black pair of leggings. She pulls on her black boots and ties her hair back with a dark red headband. She can’t be bothered to make a genuine effort, she feels too gross to actually care. Levy walks across the hall and knocks on his door before she sneezes into the crook of her arm again.

The door swings open to reveal her neighbor, Gajeel Redfox. “Hey shorty,” he says while leaning against the doorframe. He takes note of the dark circles under her eyes, her red nose, and her skin, which is paler than normal. “You don’t look too good,” he shakes his head. “You should be staying home if you’re sick.”

Levy crosses her arms. “That’s actually what I came to talk to you about,” she says with a matter-of-fact tone. “I’m allergic to your cats. I’ve been suffering ever since you moved in, do you even bother to clean the fur they shed? Do you know how many allergens can float through the air when you don’t?”

“Sorry Shortstuff-”

“The name is Levy-”

“Sorry Shrimp,” Gajeel continues while he gives a popping sound to the p. “But my cats don’t shed. They all have hair.”

Levy glares at him. “I’ve had allergies ever since your cats moved in with you. Why else would I be so sick?” she sneezes a quiet mouse sneeze. Gajeel bites back a grin because it was just so adorable. She then continues to glare at him with a pout of her face and her cheeks puffed out, and Gajeel feels heat creep up the back of his neck. He decides that she’s gotta go, and soon. If not, who knows how visible his blush will become.

“I don’t know, maybe someone else in this complex got a pet with fur. Mine have hair, so we’re done here. Goodbye,” Gajeel begins to shut the door. But Levy isn’t having it, she puts her foot between the door and the frame. Gajeel hides behind the door, smiling to himself. How could she so confident around me? Nobody else is, he thinks. He shakes his head and swings open the door again. “Would you leave?”

Levy shakes her head. “I’ve dealt with your stupid furballs for a week-”

“My precious kitties are not stupid furballs,” Gajeel growls. “They are innocent and sweet-” a glass sounding crash comes from the kitchen. He sighs. “They’re sweet and loving, so don’t you dare attack them.”

“Precious and sweet or not, I’m dying in my own apartment because of them. You need to get rid of those cats!” Levy crosses her arms. Gajeel, once again, tries not to focus on how adorable she looks when she’s mad. Or the way her eyes seem darker than normal...or the dark circles under her eyes, probably from lack of sleep from sneezing so much. He clenches his jaw, realizing what he’s doing again.

“I’ll take care of it, alright? Just go home and rest, I’ll clean up after ‘em,” Gajeel says before he successfully shuts the door in her face. He feels like an asshole because of it, but it was his only option. His knees were getting weak. He turns around and leans against the door, sighing in relief that he doesn’t have to see her. But at the same time, it’s heartbreaking. He likes admiring her shortness and tracing the curls in her hair with his eyes. He even imagines how soft her hair must be before he slaps himself.

Pantherlily strolls over to Gajeel and sits down. For a cat, he’s very human-like. His adorable face always seems to be smirking at his owner. “Whaddya want, Lily?” Gajeel asks while he scoops him up like a baby. Lily purrs contently and flickers his tail in thanks. Truth be told, however, if Gajeel doesn’t get bitten or scratched that’s thanks enough.

“Now what did you little fuckers break this time?” Gajeel asks while he strolls to the kitchen with Lily still in his arms. He spots his bottle of beer in pieces on the floor. Frocsh, his green cat, is licking it up contently while her brother Lector knocks silverware and boxes of cereal off the counter. Gajeel sighs and grabs a towel.

The following day, Levy is still sick. She sits on the couch and reads a book, angrily flipping the pages. She sneezes occasionally, which only makes her more mad. Curse my adorable sneeze, she thinks to herself.

A small brown package falls through Levy’s apartment door mail slot. She furrows her eyebrows in wonder because she didn’t order anything. She sets down her book and walks over to pick it up. The package is smaller than her hand, with a little yellow tag on the side. It’s from Gajeel. What could this be? Levy asks herself. She carefully undoes the wrapping paper to reveal a small white box. She takes off the lid and sees an orange container of red and white pills.

The prescription on the side tells Levy that it’s allergy medicine, specifically designed for animals. She fights back a blush but allows a grin to appear. She goes to the kitchen, fills a glass with water, and swallows a pill just as the prescription says. Levy quickly goes to the front door and opens it up. She wanted to go knock on his door and say thank you, but Gajeel stands at the doorway with a bouquet of flowers.

“Gajeel?” Levy frowns in confusion slightly, but at the same time she’s very happy to see him.

Gajeel scratches the back of his head and avoids eye contact. “So..um...you got the medicine?”

“Yeah, I was just going to thank you. So, thank you. It’s very sweet of you,” Levy smiles shyly up at him. Gajeel swallows a lump in his throat and prays that the heat in his face is invisible.

“Uh..would you, by chance, care..if, um..you wanna go on a date?” Gajeel blurts out. He then holds out the flowers to her and prays it’s not as stupid as he thinks. Levy blushes and accepts the flowers. She nods and grabs his hand, lacing her fingers through his. She’s not exactly dressed up, she’s only wearing a tshirt and leggings. But luckily, Gajeel isn’t dressed up either. He’s wearing a tshirt and jeans, which isn’t much better.

    Gajeel walks across the hallway to his apartment and opens up the door for her. “I'm still in college, so I can't afford a nice restaurant right now, but I sure can cook,” he smiles down at her. Levy doesn't object; she doesn't even say anything about the cats. She walks in happily and admires how clean his apartment is. Then again, it’s easy to have a clean apartment when someone doesn’t own very much. Most of the stuff Levy does see is cat related, everything from picture frames to toys.

They walk into the kitchen together and Levy continues to admire everything. He only has a fridge, sink, stove, and a little bit of counter space. He also has a small wooden table with two very uncomfortable looking chairs. On the floor sits six cats, and Levy can’t help but squeal at the sight of them. “These are my furballs,” Gajeel says proudly. “The tiny white one is named Carla; her mother, Shagotte, is the bigger white cat. Carla’s dad is the black cat, Pantherlily. Carla’s husband is named Happy, the blue cat. The little green cat is named Frosch, her brother is the red cat named Lector.”

“Aw, they’re married and stuff, that’s so cute,” Levy squeals.

Gajeel can’t help but smile. “I thought you’d like it, once you get past the whole allergy thing.” He watches Levy squat down and interact with the cats. She pets Happy, kisses Frosch, and picks up Pantherlily. She stands up and gives him a little kiss on the head. He bites his lip, resisting the urge to kiss her right then and there.

Levy turns around to face him, scratching behind Lily’s ears as she does. “You can keep the cats,” she smiles. “I could never imagine having to get rid of all these little cuties.”

“I’m glad you think so, because I have some news for you,” Gajeel says while he rocks on the balls of his feet slightly. Levy smiles mischievously at him, her eyebrow raised with interest. “The medicine I gave you was fake. A buddy of mine runs a joke shop, and he had a bottle of fake pills in stock. Don’t worry, completely harmless, I just had to prove to you that my cats aren’t making ya sick.”

Levy feels her heart sink a little. I guess he didn’t want to go on an actual date with me, then, she thinks to herself. And here I thought he was a sweet guy. She gives Lily one last kiss and sets him on the floor. “Well, thanks for proving me wrong, then,” she says. Levy gives all of the cats one last kiss and heads for the front door.

Gajeel gently grabs her arm. Levy turns her head to look at him. “I know what yer thinkin’, but I was sincere about that date,” he says. “Proving ya wrong was a mere bonus. But it ain’t worth jack if you don’t stay.”

Well there you go! I hope you guys enjoyed this bonus prompt, I know I certainly enjoyed writing it! I will be publishing my Gajevy Week prompts on Wattpad (TheTinyCat) as well as other stories that I hope you’ll enjoy and show some love!

[oopsjustafewthingsiforgottoabout]

Leighton Michael Jones

Basics

FC: Broderick Hunter

Known as: LJ, Lei, Lei-Lei (pet name), Ten Ton (Jersey Number is 10 in any sport), Age: 24 Birthday:  January 3, 1994 Sign: Capricorn Sexual Orientation: Pan Weight:. 185 lbs Body: Muscular Height: 6′3″ Eyes: Dark Brown Hair: Black, usually a fade. Sometimes the top is a little long Accent/Sounds Like: Broderick Hunter, but sometimes if you catch him when he’s mad, sick, or very tired, an African accent can be faintly heard. His dad has a thick-ish accent still and it has rubbed off on him a little. He tries to hide his accent when he can though. Species: Human Race/Ethnicity: Dominican, Jamaican, African, and French (with some other European stuff) on his mom’s side, and African and Indian on his dad’s side.

Leighton knows Swahili, Spanish, French, German, Patois, and Hindi. He can speak Spanish, Swahili, and French the best, but can understand the other languages just fine. He grew up mainly hearing Spanish, Swahili, and French in his household and with family. He rarely brings up the fact he knows so many languages.

Leighton’s lifelong dream is to take a picture with a tiger (one that is safe and being treated well of course!).He LOVES cats, big and small. They’re sort of his obsession. He also loves dogs though (mainly because they’re just as playful as he is).

Born: Ramstein Air Base, Germany Raised:  Lived in Germany until he was about 2 years old then moved to Montreal, QC where some his mother’s side of the family lives. Sister was born in Jamaica when her mother had to go down there to take care of some family. They also lived in Texas for a while. Went back to Europe for a short period of time, then came back the U.S. and lived in California.  Went to high school in Georgia, where his family stayed. Currently Located: TBD Occupation: TBD Former Occupation: In highschool Leighton worked at a hip pizza place. He also worked in retail for a few months before he went off to college.

Relationship Status: Single School/Education: High school diploma. Currently a medical student. Style: Most of the time his fashion is comfortable. He Habits: Taps his foot or taps pencil when deep in thought, chews on earbuds chord

Throughout high school, he played football and soccer. He plays basketball for fun. 

Personality

Positive Traits: playful, positive, silly, persistent, supportive, happy, courteous, polite

Negative Traits: stubborn, oblivious at times, impulsive, curious, impatient

Likes:  jokes, bad jokes, playing basketball, colorful outfits, traveling, hammocks, food, home-cooked meals, helping people, pizza, when his older patients flirt him (he finds it cute), harmless pranks, giving piggy-back rides, kissing in public, any kind of music people can dance to

Dislikes: people who abuse animals, people who abuse people, people who wear socks with sandals, under-cooked rice, bad Jamaican food, having to hide parts of himself from his family, being alone for too long, people who stand too close to you in line, clowns, sore losers, people who can’t take a joke, bouncers at clubs who take themselves too seriously, frogs, spiders, 

Favorite Places: TBD

Essentially, Leighton is a very friendly and fun-loving guy. Right now in his life, he is going through his version of true freedom, so sometimes he’s a little hesitant to dive into very serious relationships. He can also have a hard time being serious if it is outside of work or school. 

Family & Relationships

Relationship with family: Close, but enjoying his distance from them Mother: Jasmine Avita Bacot (43) -dentist Father: Daewon “Wayne” Mbadinuju Jones (46) -retired veteran, now works as a well-paying mechanical job of sorts Siblings: Kali Elizabeth Jones (21), Biology major and 

Daewon’s parents found themselves in America when he was just a young boy. His family lived in Queens, New York for a while before moving to New Jersey. Growing up, Daewon was often bullied and ostracized for being darker than the other kids and for having a different accent.He was teased for always smelling like curry and dressing differently. He begged his parents, who also ran into social issues of their own, to help him “more American”. Some neighbors insisted his family try going to their Christian church. At first, it was just to blend in show everyone he was just like everyone else.  As he grew older, however, his faith in Christianity grew stronger because it was through the Christian church he was able to “have it easier”. He started going by the name Wayne and became a very devout man. 

After he graduated highschool at 18, Daewon joined the U.S. Air Force. During basic training, however, Daewon faced similar issues he had growing up. He was tired of ethnic name giving him problems. One of the sergeants on his first day took one look at his surname, shook his had, and said,” How ‘bout I just call you Jones?” Once Daewon was out of basic training, he changed his last name to “Jones”, making Mbadinuju his middle name he never speaks of. 

While stationed in Germany when he was 21, he met a gorgeous woman, 18 at the time, in a bar while he and his fellow airmen were out on the town. It was love at first sight. Jasmine Bacot, an African, Jamaican, Spanish, and French Canadian, was in Germany with her father, an engineer. The two hit it off instantly. Within a year they were married and when Jasmine was 19, she found out he was pregnant with a son. 

As he started his family, Daewon fell back in love with culture. Faith brought him a loving wife and a healthy boy. Somehow Daewon found a way to balance and celebrate culture while staying a devout Christian. He saw the diversity of his family as a blessing and celebrated it. While in Jamaica, visiting Jasmine’s family, the couple gave birth to their daughter three years later. 

Leighton and his family are close, especially his sister, but he is enjoying his time away from them. His parents are loving and supporting, but strict. Their Christian values made Leighton and Kali feel like they couldn’t fully be themselves. Sure, they were encouraged to be creative and expressive, but with a few limitations. Daewon and Jasmine attended every competition, school event, and any other extracurricular activities, despite the two of them having their own busy careers.

Partners: Through high school, Leighton had three or four girlfriends. He had a high school crush on guy but only told his sister about it. When he moved away after high school, he had his first gay experience with a guy named Chase. They didn’t work out because Chase wanted to get serious while Leighton wanted to explore his new life. There was one more guy after that. 

TWs: