#margerie's magic shop

[generalidiocy]

Escape From The Vault thoughts

I know I'm a couple days late, but I'm gonna try and recreate my thought processes watching the dnd stream cause I need to yell into the void (please yell back I love conversations)

basslines basslines basslines! I knew Luke played bass but didn't know he was that good, wow

yay jockey boy! oh no... oh no jockey boy!

wap tentacle... great

"i used to have doors in my house... back when I lived" - there's so many instances of Fullset being bizarre, but this one tickles me

"how do you know my name" "it says SNAKEHIPS in giant letters across the door" - classic joke, perfect, no notes

Juliet Caesar cameo! I think...

she does magic for a fee, old lady margery

sam just playing all his classics this time around - @.meneatyoghurt made the same point but she's right

the unrelenting aubergine is the best name for a warhammer

royal andre - let's not call him prince andre though, that name just sounds wrong to me now /lh

"i bought these in a shop :-] :-] :-]"

"you've always wanted to be capteeeuuuurrreeedd"

tom knows what a skylight is, sam does not

why are these title cards so eerie

round of applause to Teo and Sam for the music and visuals, fucking brilliant

"things are heating up" "press A"

Love/Brother Face Eldritch Blast

"Tell me how you feel about the Jews!!!"

Andre and Andrew are the sweetest, if we see Andre again I hope he has his Andrew with him, too

"I used to be a trapeze artist"

that description of a dead hare made me so sad...

also leftenmost mc and david being dead in this hurt me a lot more than it should have

fullset beating the other two to the second body lol

"entering the astral plane" - in case you didn't get the reference

"are you having a non-canon adventure?"

sam knew what he was doing ending the first half with "Where's Jeremiah"

also why didn't bubba die from the fall? i don't want him to be dead, but he seemed absolutely fine considering he just fell 60 feet

andre beetroot being friends with bubba was a nice combo

"ok that's a different thing" i really hoped they wouldn't make "pressing A" an innuendo... but ofc they did /aff

yes, homosexuality is the link between these characters (twas funny, but came out of left field for me lol)

again, what's with the creepy title cards?

andre and bubba again!

"are you saying that you weigh less than 10 pounds?"

andre can't fight but we love him

snakehips being badass as usual

"RUN" followed up with a highly non-threatening "flee :-)" took me out

"the gm should've given these characters higher armour classes"

"tell me how you feel about the Jews!" the sequel

Troll Son!

"a dock, as in, boat boat" - perfect definition, well done margery

"that's *strictly* non- canon"

goddammit I got really excited to see Persephone then we ran out of time

sweethearts sweethearts sweethearts!

this was such a great tribute to the iconic characters we know and love, and we all had fun watching it I'm sure. Sam was an amazing DM, and AJ, Tom, Luke and Teo all did phenomenally as usual

anyway, ramblings over, just needed to scream about this for a bit

[hannahhook7744]

Descendants Background Characters Names (Redone) Part 6;

Some of the fairy characters mentioned are wonderful ocs that belong to @fairiesandbeatleslover .

Princess Roanne and Eliza/Elisa, niece of Fairy Godmother. 

Leroy Lumière, son of Lumière and one of Ben's staff members (can't remember the title he was addressed as in d3, if he was. I think he's a guard? But he could be something else).

Lancelin Potts, son of Beatrice (Mrs. Potts) and Jean Potts.

Horace Generic the school Librarian at Auradon Prep.

Nixie Fae, sister of Fairy Godmother/Renée Fae and Coach at the Magical Institute Training/M.I.T.

Mateo and Julieanna Foulfellow, son and daughter of Honest John and Gideon.

Obsessive Opaline Mim, granddaughter of Madam Mim.

Obedient Orion Mim, grandson of Madam Mim.

Foolish Floyd Mim, grandson of Madam Mim.

Jabberin' June Mim, granddaughter of Madam Mim.

Prideful Prudence Mim, granddaughter of Madam Mim.

Forgetful Fallon Mim, granddaughter of Madam Mim.

Grey Greta Mim and Envious Ebenezer Mim, grandchildren of Madam Mim.

Ecstatic Elodie Mim, granddaughter of Madam Mim.

Scaredy Cat Shellie Mim, granddaughter of Madam Mim.

Clumsy Cullen and Tough Guy Titus Mim, grandchildren of Madam Mim (note: do not call Cullen 'Clumsy Cullen' in the ear shot of any Mims unless you want to become their next lab rat).

Gaspy Gia  and Graceless Gracelyn Mim, granddaughters of Madam Mim.

Caddy, daughter of Chrysta the fairy.

Grouchy Bergmann, son of Grumpy.

Margery, daughter of Azurine. 

Lainey and Marissa Neverwings, daughters of Iredessa.

Princess Roanne. 

Colby Jenkins, son of Coach Jenkins and Sappy.

Amrita, daughter of Meena. 

Mickey/Michael (guard).

Abigail (Auradon Prep Biology Teacher).

Oswald (guard).

Vika, daughter of Zhencha.

Hock, son of Lieren.

Owners of a cursed antiques shop.

Verity Daisybug, adoptive daughter of Amber Daisybug and Dunkin the cooking/baking fairy.

Al-Khayateh Never, son of Hem and Abdul.

Breena Never, daughter of Beck and Paulie.

Her boyfriend, Spiel Winger, is the son of Rani and Tor. 

Boreas Frostwings, son of Sled. 

Couture Never, daughter of Hem and Abdul.

Chiara WIng, daughter of Fira and Sanka. 

Poppy Redfairy, daughter of the Red Fairy and niece of the Blue Fairy.

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

Thanks @bellalampwickrossi for the help.

[treatian]

The Chronicles of the Dark One: Domestic Battles

Chapter 56: Old Habits

He coddled Neal as Belle disappeared into the back room to prepare for her day. When Belle had shown amazement at his parenting muscle memory, he'd shrugged it off, but once she was in the shower, even he found himself surprised by it. When Neal fussed, he used the pattern of "sh" that he once had for his own son, two short ones and one long drawn-out one. His body remembered how to pull one shoulder up over the other to compensate for weight distribution. And when the child finally fell asleep, moving about the apartment to finish his preparations one-handed, well…it had been far more challenging when he'd had to have a cane in his free hand. With this Neal, it was almost too easy.

Until…

He was working on getting the coffee maker out when the water to Belle's shower turned off, and he felt it. A magical alarm began blaring somewhere in the back of his head. The shop. Someone was in the shop. Someone with magic that his own recognized all too well. Emma.

As Belle dressed, he moved quietly to the living room window that faced the Pawn Shop and looked out.

Nothing.

The lights weren't on, the shades weren't raised, the sign wasn't flipped. It looked no different than it had when he'd left it yesterday. Emma's bug wasn't in sight, but in his mind, he knew that she was in his shop. For what reason? He couldn't tell. But there were more than a few reasons he didn't particularly care for her to be snooping around there.

He set Neal into his crib to hopefully sleep until David or Mary Margaret returned to collect him, put the coffee maker away, and grabbed his coat just as Belle came out of the room, freshly showered and dressed. She peered into the crib to check on Neal as he patted one of his pockets, searching for the keys to the shop.

"Do you really have to go?" she whispered sadly. Her eyes darted into the crib, betraying her desires before her words could. "What do I do without you when he wakes up?"

She wasn't asking him to stay because she wanted him around for herself. She was asking him to stay because she was under the impression he was the superior babysitter. He'd learned that during the night. She was wrong, of course. He was just the more experienced babysitter. More time alone with Neal would fix that.

"Belle…" he sighed as he moved to her and squeezed her arms reassuringly. "Babies sleep through much greater things than people talking."

And to demonstrate that, he made sure not to whisper his words. That was an instinct most parents had: to whisper when their baby was asleep and tip-toe around the house. That instinct was also quick to go by the wayside when parents realized how limiting that behavior was. Besides, as Margery had once told him, that behavior made light sleepers, which wasn't always a good thing.

"And when he wakes up, you'll know what to do. Trust your instincts." He squeezed her arms again before letting go and heading to the door. "Before I go, I'm going to put a stronger protection spell around the library, just in case Emma-"

"No! No, if Emma comes back or anyone needs me, they need to be able to get me without a problem," she argued. "Besides, after yesterday…I don't think Emma will come here for me or her brother."

But she'd go to his store and linger? Something wasn't right. And when things weren't right, he would much rather leave Belle with the strongest protection possible. But then again, this was Emma, not the Evil Queen, not Zelena, not Ingrid. She wasn't hiding or resisting him, she seemed to be just waiting for him in the shop. Just this once, he supposed he could control the situation.

"Well, if that is your wish, I won't bother." But if Emma made a move with her chaotic magic in the direction of the library, he wouldn't be held responsible for his actions. "At least promise me you'll stay here for the day, where it's safe."

She smiled as she nodded in agreement. The deal was struck. And without further discussion, he left the apartment for the day. He didn't look back. He couldn't.

Emma's presence in his shop was still there, still overwhelming his senses. He would have figured she'd be in and out of that shop in a heartbeat. But it was going on ten minutes at least now. And as he approached the shop, he could feel the place electrified with magic in discord. Hell, he could practically see it! The whole building was sparking and sizzling with the sensation of power left undirected. Like electricity sparking for a broken wire, ungrounded. What was she doing?

Cautiously, he opened the front door. His eyes followed the odd sound of clicking to a sewing machine that he kept out for sale. It was frantic. It's needle piercing an invisible fabric over and over again despite no one being there to run the petal. And the way the lights were flickering, toys were spinning...

Such power! The hair on his arms raised and-

A click behind him had him turning to look into a film projector that had just flickered on.

Emma was nowhere in sight, though the evidence of her presence was obvious. It was like the scene of a horror movie in the shop. This was chaos. Power without grounding. Not even Cora had been capable of this.

"If you're trying to hide from me, Ms. Swan, you're doing a poor job!" he called out.

"I'm not hiding from you. I'm hiding from everyone else."

The girl crept quietly out from the back room. Her silence was a miracle in and of itself, given how tense she was. Her shoulders were hunched, every footfall started on tiptoe, and her hands were curled inward as she shifted her gaze around. The Savior was on edge. More than she'd ever been before. Aware of every single movement of her body and terrified at what the wrong one might do. That was a new look on Emma Swan.

"Ah. So, Belle tells me. She was watching Neal all night."

"While my family was searching for me, I know. My magic is hurting people, Gold…people I love. I need you to help me control it."

"What makes you think I'm your best option?"

"Because I…hurt Henry."

Something inside of his gut flipped without permission, and his heart leaped into his throat. The extra magic in the air made his arms tingle at the pronouncement.

"What?" he questioned, sauntering around the counter, getting closer to her; the beast within began to claw. Roused by anger and fear and potential devastation, he prepared to attack, to hurt, to kill over his flesh and blood. All the while, the Dark Ones inside him discouraged that course of action. There's another way! They agreed. But he…

Emma hurt Henry…perhaps he should have acted sooner, done more to protect his family than just making sure Henry go to the Charmings first.

"I…he's okay, but it was just luck. You're probably the only person who's safe around me right now. I need you to help before I hurt anybody else."

Safe. His fear eased as logic regained control of his body. Of course, Henry was safe. Magic, even out-of-control magic, required intent. Even if her magic had put the boy in a life-threatening position, her instinctual magic would have been to save him from that magic somehow. He might be hurt, but he'd still be alive. This time, at least.

This kind of uncontrollable magic was dangerous and powerful. And while he could think of a dozen ways to rid the world of it, dozens of spells and potions, hell, even lessons he could teach, there was still one very specific way to rid the world of it for good that was coming to his mind. One way the Dark Ones were practically shouting at him, one way that advanced his own plans in a way that wouldn't cast doubt onto him with Emma in her current state.

But to do that to the woman that Neal loved, the mother of his grandchild-

It's for the child, is it not? Zoso hissed. Neal may have loved this girl once, but he loved the child even more. He'd want you to take care of him. This is how to ensure his safety!

Besides, another chimed in, she's a Savior, they never live long anyway. At least this way it's not letting the magic go to waste.

"There's only one way to help with this affliction."

"Well, just fine. Do it."

"You haven't heard what I have to say."

"I don't care," Emma breathed desperately, foolishly showing her hand. "My son is in pain because of me. Just fix it."

Well…if whatever she'd done left Henry in pain and she was begging...the monster within roared to life once more, and he grabbed at one of the spell books he'd unknowingly put his hand on.

She'd said he could do what he needed to do, and indeed, in this flash of anger, it was tempting to get the hat and give her exactly what she asked for. But he couldn't.

Not here. Not now.

It was too messy. He hadn't survived all these years being messy in his schemes.

He didn't know if anyone had seen Emma come into this shop, didn't know if she'd told anyone of her plan, didn't know if any lose strings would connect him to all of this later. Loose strings absolutely could not be tolerated. He needed a better plan. And he had one. He always had been a quick thinker.

From within the book, he picked out a piece of loose paper that had been folded into quarters. It was a tonic for hair loss, not that Emma would know that unless she happened to have learned to read Trollish in the last year.

"This…this is an ancient spell," he lied, showing her the paper with unreadable markings. "It's designed to take away Light magic from those who choose to part with it, but the effect would be permanent."

"So, I'd lose all my magic. I'd be…"

"Ordinary."

A shadow of fear danced in her eyes at the pronouncement, but still…she leaned in closer to the piece of paper, looking it over as if she was capable of reading it. Without warning, a smell, like something was burning, began to fill the air.

Her magic.

"But…your magic would no longer hurt the ones you love, and you would be able to embrace your son…"

Suddenly, Emma let out a gasp as her nostrils flared, and she pulled her hand off the book it had been resting on to find that it was her skin smoking. She examined her hand, looking for the burn, only for her eyes to fall on the book itself and the new, freshly burned imprint of her hand. That couldn't have been more perfectly timed if he'd planned it himself.

"Do it," she snarled angrily.

"Well, unfortunately, Savior magic doesn't go quietly. Though the spell won't hurt you, it will destroy almost everything else within a city block. That would make for quite a macabre sight at Granny's, don't you think?"

"So let's find somewhere else out in the woods."

For as smart as she loved boasting she was, Emma Swan did have a terrible habit of playing perfectly into his hands when he needed her to. He would love to know exactly what curse Ingrid had planted on Emma to affect her magic and make her ignore reason as she was, but given the fact that it was working in his favor at the moment, he opted to forgo the knowledge. A decision that pained him more than he expected.

"As you wish," he muttered. "I think I know…just the spot."

A spot that would get her out of his shop, drive her out of the city, onto a property that he had nothing to do with as far as anyone could tell, and hours from now so she could make a few more appearances to the townspeople. It would be perfect. For him, anyway.

He pulled a map of Storybrooke from the counter and flattened it out before taking a pen and circling the spot for her. "Here…it's an abandoned manor. Right here. You meet me here at sundown. And I'll have everything prepared."

"Thanks, Gold," Emma sighed with perhaps the smallest iota of relief in her tone. "Please don't tell anyone I was here."

He struggled not to laugh impishly at her foolishness. Of course, he wouldn't tell anyone. It would benefit him greatly not to.

"Don't worry about me, dearie. It'll be our little secret," he assured the girl before she turned and left out the side door. Still, despite the laughter of the Dark Ones in his head, he couldn't bring himself to smile as he took the paper with the hair tonic on it, crumbled it into a ball, and threw it in the trash.

[purplekiwis]

𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 (𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟏)

Summary: An emergency admission to the hospital gives rise to a series of strange events in your life. By fate, when things take a dark turn, a unexplainable force leads you to Harry. The hospital's shy and perceptive botanist who will help you solve the frightening mystery that links the two of you together. Genre: Witch AU / Soulmates AU (Green wizard Harry x Seer witch Y/N) Warnings: Sexual Content (Sub-ish, soft Harry 🥺), Mild Cursing, Witchcraft and Demon Stuff (Nothing too crazy or disturbing, I promise) Words: 17k (thus far) Author's Note: BELIEVE IT OR NOT THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A SMALL LITTLE BLURB BUT AS IT TURNS OUT, I CAN'T SUMMARIZE STORIES FOR SHIT 😩 SO NOW IT WILL BE A 3 PART STORY.

** Spending Midsummer's Day hospitalized at the Communion Life Hospital Center wasn't exactly how Y/N had planned to spend the most magical day of the year.

No. She had a ticket to go to the annual magic fair with her friend Margery. Where they would surely have a wonderful time stuffing their bellies with sugar cookies, chocolate mushrooms and pumpkin ale, embarrassing themselves a little on the floating roller rink and, above all, timidly ogling at all the cute foreign wizards and witches they were too shy to approach, let alone flirt with.

The fair would also provide them with the chance to get their grabby hands on a bunch of whimsical ingredients and souvenirs that they didn't normally have access to during the rest of the year.

Of course, these days it's perfectly possible for wizards to order most of their funky stuff online... but the ones like Y/N still prefer to pick their ingredients manually.

You see, Y/N is a Seer witch.

It's a valuable trait that usually keeps her from harm's way since it bounds her to be highly ruled by her instinct and particularly sensitive to the energy of the materials and people around her. It has lots of perks. For instance, Y/N almost never gets lost, since she can find her way to where she wants to go based on intuition alone. She can also usually avoid uncomfortable or dangerous situations, even if she never saw or heard about them. – Whether it's silly things akin to jinxed candy that will make her ears grow twice the size or more serious matters, like creepy vampire alleyways and cursed artifacts.

Having instinctive genes also meant that anytime Y/N stared at a conjunct of objects while shopping, such as pile of bird skulls, most times than not one of them would effortlessly entail her attention and overpower all the other ones... which can get a little annoying sometimes when another person steps in and picks what fate had destined to be hers, but luckily most times if she explains her situation, they'll be kind enough to offer to switch, since for most magic people that don't possess any soothsaying abilities, not having a connection with their ingredients doesn't really make a difference in their magic. However, as expected there are also times people will deny her request or proceed to look at her like she's crazy or a bratty little witch.

Which she's not.

She has tried to ignore or go against her instincts multiple times. And in all fairness, the result was usually never good, but Y/N is pretty positive it was never as bad as it was this time.

Her day had been terribly unlucky from the start, which is usually a sign from the universe asking her not to do something. It all started when she tripped in the shower and knocked down her new bottle of shampoo, then her Chartreux cat, Azura, slid down her leg with its nails sticking out and made a huge tear on her favorite pair of overalls that she had just put on. Right after that, as Y/N was about to place a washed cereal bowl to dry on the rack, all the dishes in there fell down the counter for no logical or explainable reason. Later, whilst brushing her teeth she managed to squeeze a blob of toothpaste straight onto the front of her t-shirt and finally, right as she shut the front door and stood on the porch of her little house, she was greeted by an extreme downpour that started right in front of her eyes.

But she simply let out a big sigh and pulled the umbrella out of her bag. She really wanted to go to the fair, therefore if the universe was against it, it was just going to have to suck it this time. Besides, the weather had been stormy and gloomy for a few days now, so the last sign probably didn't even mean a thing.

Y/N should have known better than to defy the fate of the universe.

Because if she hadn't, she probably wouldn't have woken up in the hospital 3 days later, feeling dizzy, having hot flashes, and with severe pain on her left arm.

But alas, she had decided on being a stubborn little witch.

The fair had started just like it always did every year. There was a music band playing, plenty of market stalls to see, with plants, books, trinkets, and foamy caldrons where elixirs and potions bubbled away. Mages performed showy magic tricks and stunts to entertain the groups of wizards walking around sharing rainbow colored funnel cakes and glittery cotton candy.

The rain was a bit of a mood killer, but a simple waterproofing spell was enough to keep Y/N, Margery and the rest of their friends dry as they roamed around the curious attractions. But then things took a turn for the worse. The skies darkened as if ink had been poured over them, prompting your head to lift. A deafening scream echoed through the scene. All the people around seemed to be getting swallowed up, blinded by the dark, bedeviled murk that spread through the air.

Y/N was staring wide-eyed at the cloud that kept rising and rising, when she felt a chilling pain in her upper arm. A succubus wasp's fangs clang onto her skin, its venom penetrating her flesh and leaving her head pulsing and groggy.

She passed out.

And now she was waking up, under a fluffy white quilt as daylight spears between her lashes, making her eyes squint from sensitivity. A comforting presence environs the room, enhanced by the spring scent of rosemary and citrus flowers. She inhales the perfume and lets herself to get swamped by the lulling stillness and the energy that warms her sore body.

It's nice, it's so nice that almost convinces her to fall asleep again.

But then her slumberous head recalls the rising cloud of darkness. It felt ominous, like a warning... and that screaming wail, that froze her insides and made her feel sick at heart. Had someone gotten hurt? What happened after she lost consciousness? She needed to talk to Margery. She needed to make sure everyone was alright.

Y/N opened her eyes completely and crawled up on the bed. There was someone else in the room. Someone who stiffed up like a broomstick as soon as he saw her move. He was attractive... and probably about the same age as her. Tall and bright-eyed, with fuzzy brown curls that fell over his shoulders and cheeks all pinked up and kissable. He wore a cream linen blouse, with a moss-colored garden apron over it. The front of his pocket, from where a few gardening tools poked out of, was lightly smeared with fresh mud. So was one of his cheekbones, right under his eye.

"Oh, hello." The witch said bunglingly once their eyes met, but his reaction was not what she expected. He jumped nervously and dashed out the door like a kid caught with his hand in a cookie jar. Not a word, not a smile, just hotfooted away and left her alone to wonder over what had just happened.

Y/N didn't have much time to mull over it, however. Because the next minute a senior woman came into the room, with a big smile stretching across her face like she was genuinely happy to see her awake. "Ah, I see that our sleeping beauty has finally awakened..." She joked, wandering around the bed to open the window and air out the room that suddenly no longer smelled of flowers and happiness, but more so of failing health and antiseptic. "How are you feeling miss Y/N?" The woman asked, taking her palm to the girl's forehead to check the temperature. "Your friends left a while ago... You missed them for a few hours, but they should be back tomorrow. I'm certain they'll be thrilled to find you awake this time."

"Are they okay? Is everyone's okay?" Y/N jumped to ask. "How long have I been asleep?"

"You've been here for the past 3 days... but we're going to have to keep you around for a bit longer. That was quite an allergic reaction you had... gave everyone a big scare." As she moved closer, Y/N could perceive the small tag stuck to her uniform's chest that read 'Angela Carrington', and in the line below 'Nurse'. - "I've seen a lot of things in my 25 years working at this hospital, but someone hallucinating after being stung by a sleep wasp...? That's a first."

"Hallucinating?"

She dismissed the alarmed question with a brief wave and a soft pop of her tongue. "It's nothing, don't worry about it." But Y/N's curious expression didn't budge, so the nurse carried on with the subject. "You talked in your drowse, about this big cloud of smoke in the sky and a screaming woman. We figured you were developing an allergic reaction to the venom, that made you feverish and therefore caused the hallucinations. We had to inject you with a calming potion... but you were out like a lamp after that."

The girl squinted slightly, shaking her head sternly. "No, but that was real. That- that happened before I got stung." Her eyes sought out Mrs. Carrington's, that were rounded and twinkled golden from the sunlight that poked through the window. "My friends... everyone that was there... they saw it too. It was huge and scary... they have got to have seen it, haven't they?"

The nurse pursed her lips sympathetically, patting the girl's head lightly. "Oh darling. That little head of yours is still all topsy-turvy, isn't it? It must've all happened so quick... didn't even feel it."

Ungrudgingly, Y/N allowed her body to slip under the quilt again. So it had all been a figment of her imagination... That gave her a bit more peace of mind, especially knowing that everyone she loved was safe, and not out there trying to survive a smokey apocalypse while she slept like a sloth. But at the same time, some things still didn't make much sense. She was so sure she had felt the sting after seeing the cloud... The memory was so clear that she could practically portray the whole scene inside her head.

But maybe it was all a hallucination after all.

"Dinner will be served in a little while, but for now I'll leave you to rest for a little longer." The nurse affirmed,  after she was done inspecting Y/N's wound. "Your friends left a bag with your personal things on the couch. If you want to use the bathroom, it's this door right here." She explained, signaling the only door inside the room besides the main one. "For now it's all yours, but if someone else is admitted to the room you'll have to share." Y/N nodded, although she wasn't really asking. "If you need anything else, all you have to do is ring that bell and someone will come check on you. If you feel any discomfort or have more delusional episodes, it's best to let someone know. It could be a sign that the fever has returned."  Y/N cringed at the words 'delusional episodes'. She was fairly used to receiving high signs and warnings from the unknown, but having visions and hallucinations was an entirely different level of looney... even for a witch. Divination was not a very common gift among wizards, in fact the more skeptic ones even considered it to be nothing but a business hoax to trick desperate people into believing something great awaited them. She knew for a fact that wasn't entirely true though. She had inherited the trait from her aunt Rowena, who still to that day worked as a fortune-teller in Las Vegas. She was very popular among the non-magic people for her correct predictions... so popular that she had once even gotten invited to record a show for the TLC channel. Naturally they had no idea she was a real witch, like a proper potion-making, spell-casting witch and believed she simply had the so called gift. Unlike aunt Rowena however, Y/N never aspired to take financial advantage of their shared genetic trait. Not because she found any faults in doing so, but because she found faults in her personal trait, specifically. There were stages in her life where her intuition seemed to shut down completely, and others where it was at a constant all-time high. And since Y/N is certain proper fortune-tellers should have a stable vision and not one that is fluctuating and unpredictable, she chooses to rely on it solely for her own safeness and satisfaction. Like a secret party trick that made her feel a little cooler than the other wizards around her sometimes. And honestly, despite aunt Rowena's unquestionable success, Y/N had never truly believed it once she claimed to have prophetic visions. How could she, when they shared the same intrinsic gene and she had never had that kind of mind-expanding experience herself? She only had what was usually referred to as an inner vision, or mystical intuition. Like an inner force that guided her into making right decisions... and yet, now her mind couldn't help but go back to the stories told by her aunt, that she had always believed to be nothing but a reaction to the modern drugs consumed in the non-magical world, at best.

But no, it couldn't be. If she really were to have a prophetic gift, wouldn't it have shown during her pre-teen years like the intuition did?

The doctors were right. Her head was still confused, and this was just a case of feverish hallucinations. But if that was so, could the cute boy she had seen earlier in her room also be a fantasy of her mind?

She really hoped not.

"I've also seen this, um... boy? Right before you walked in." Y/N started apprehensively, what made the nurse's head pop up off her patient record. "I don't know if I also imagined him or not, I was still half asleep when it happened..."

"What did he look like?" She pried, focusing her curious gaze on the girl's face, that was peeking at her stout figure from under the quilt.

"He was, um..." The girl stalled up her own words, trying to recollect a clearer image in her conscience. "Tall... longish hair... was wearing a uniform. A bit different than yours, like a gardening smock...? I don't know if that's what it's called."

"Oh." The older witch grinned in understanding. "That would be Harry. He's real, a bit peculiar but a sweetheart, nonetheless." Her smile widened when she saw the kraft paper wrapping perched on the room's nightstand. "I see he left you one of his little gifts..." She said, pointing to the item Y/N hadn't noticed yet.

The witch looked away from her for a moment and focused on the rough package. Had he left this here for her? Did he not want her to know it came from him? That would explain why he had left in such a hurry, but it still didn't explain why he hadn't responded to her greeting. "Is he um..." Y/N began to question, unable to push away the curiosity. "Does he talk?"

The nurse laughed mid sigh. "He can talk, but he's not very talkative, no."

She hummed understandingly. "Is he also staying at the hospital?"

"Not as a patient. He's our botanical specialist." The witch nurse clarified, what already answered a few other silly questions Y/N was planning to ask next, regarding the reasons why he was wearing an apron and why did he smell good like spring. "He was the one who made the ointment we've been coating your wound with." She also told, drawing Y/N's attention to her own upper arm that was still swollen and slightly greenish from the bite. "Crazy what some sprouts and fermented flower nectars can do, huh?"

It wasn't until way after dinnertime that Y/N finally gave in and unwrapped open the gift on her bedside table. She hadn’t forgotten about it… how could she? It wasn’t like there were any cute wizards with rosy cheeks and muddy clothes bringing her gifts every other day. As a matter of fact, she couldn't even remember the last time she had received a gift other than from Margery on her birthday. Y/N was thrilled. For that reason, ever since the nice nurse had left, she had been waging an inner battle between her logical brain and her jumpy, excited heart. Having picked up the present and given it a curious shake before quickly placing it back countless times. She really wanted to rip the wrapping open, but her brain was still partially convinced that the quiet wizard doctor had left whatever it was in her room by mistake and was going to come bursting through the door at any moment to get it back. But once the long hours passed and he still didn’t come, Y/N finally gave in to the temptation, sitting up on the bed and moving the package to her lap. She tried not to screw up the paper too much, but it was hard with the way her hands were moving with excitement. The first thing the girl saw was a round glass dome, what caused her fingers to rush to remove the rest of the paper. At first, she thought it to be a crystal ball, what would’ve been awful ironic and borderline scary after that whole fortune-telling plight, but then she noticed that there was a miniature myrtle tree inside, roughly the size of a human hand. Y/N let out a sigh of surprise once its flowers began to glow a faint shade of lavender with the contact, and its branches began to sway to the rhythm of an unintelligible current as she revolved the dome around in her hands. It was fascinating. Y/N had never seen anything like it. Which made her stomach go a little pudgy, because the more she thought about it, the more the certainty that this was not meant to be given to her settled in. It was too beautiful… Y/N doesn't get these lovely, thoughtful presents that leave her smiling silly like a fool. She gets other nice things, like adorable mittens and animal slippers, but not mini enchanted forests that react to the touch and glow purple in the dark. That's what witches who are loved, like downright adored by their partners get. Not witches who go on accidental head trips after being stung by sleep wasps. Y/N sighed wistfully and placed the dome back on the nightstand. She just hoped Harry would come back for it soon before she grew too attached to the little bottled landscape. Living, and breathing for its own will.

Y/N woke up a few hours later with a gasp, sitting up in bed like a zombie rising from the grave. She didn't have to wonder what was going on for long, a glance at the clock on the wall answered her question. It was 3 AM - The witching hour.

The witching hour is in some ways resembling of those spikes of energy and sudden urges that non-magic people have, to get up and do something productive at the most ungodly hours in the night. The difference being that wizards can't just lie in bed and plan to do it later like ordinary people do before they inevitably fall back asleep.

Wizards can't control it. It's like their occult abilities start circulating through their bodies, pressuring them to put them practice. Usually when Y/N is at home, what she does during her hocus-pocus hour is kneel by her altar and play a little with her magic candles, or flip through the pages of a witch magazine, to get in touch with the latest spells and rituals trends. If she's feeling particularly inspired, she'll try one or two right away… but that determination is hard to come by.

Now that she's stuck in a hospital room though, Y/N doesn't quite know what she's supposed to do with her time. Shouldn't they keep something around for the patients entertain themselves? Even if it was just a piece of rope to build a witch's ladder or yarn and needles to knit a nice winter scarf…

She got up to access her bag over the couch. The chances were slim, but maybe amidst their rush one of her friends had remembered the small ‘witching hour’ detail and stuffed something in her bag that she could work or entertain herself with for a whole hour every day. But her searching didn’t go too far past undoing the bag’s zipper and shuffling around a few pieces of clothing… because she started to hear joyous chattering and walking in the corridors, as if a religious pilgrimage was taking place outside her door.

The witch allowed her curiosity to lead her towards the entrance, opening a crack on the door and peering through. Groups of sorcerers entertained themselves with side conversations as they walked in pajamas and slippers, heading somewhere to the left. Y/N watched them with her eyebrows creased, before focusing on what was happening in the room right in front of her door. A nurse helped a grouchy old man move from his hospital bed onto a wheelchair. Y/N's heightened Seer senses tuned in on the one-sided conversation they were having. "Come on Mr. Hawk," the nurse encouraged. “We have a toffee pudding down the hall with your name on it… better hurry up before Miss Flores finds it first and leaves you nothing but the crumbs.”

Toffee pudding? He better watch out for Y/N because she might very well go and steal it from him first...

Okay, of course she's not actually planning to steal the old man's pudding but if everyone's leaving their rooms and going that way, she’s going after them. **

The dining hall looked like a big coven reunion. Sorcerers practiced activities and spells together, others conversed and played enchanted board games. Mostly Spinning Scrabble - that was just like normal scrabble, only every time someone built a word the square pieces rearranged themselves, apart from the already filled ones, as well as Lifelike Battleship, that came with a board of moving waves where ships floated at the surface. When hit wholly, the ships would collapse right in front of the players eyes and sink under the ensorcelled panel of foamy, undulating waters until completely gone from sight.

Some of the room’s dining tables were stuffed full of drinks and cakes. That was where the patients and staff who got the late night munchies gathered. There was a bit of everything! Warm milk and tea, pies, pastries, muffins, toast... the whole lot of foods anyone could ever wish to have before bed.

The atmosphere was homey and fantastic.

It reminded Y/N of the festive season back at her parents' house. Of those times all their relatives got up during the witching hour and gathered around the fireplace in the living room to form a circle of benign magic. The adults usually went back to their rooms after, whilst Y/N and her cousins stayed up the rest of night… playing these same spellbound board games and sharing jinxed sweets that had some quite unpredictable affects. She recalled that time an innocent looking candy cane turned her brain into actual mush and left her blankety-blank for hours.

Fun times… “Miss Y/N…” A vaguely familiar voice called from behind her, prompting her to turn her head back. Y/N smiled accommodatingly at the sight of the same senior nurse, Mrs. Carrington, who had come by her room earlier. “I stopped by your room just now to call you, but I see you've found your way by yourself… How are you feeling, darling? Good?” She responded positively, and without further ado the witch rested a hand in the middle of her back and started guiding her around the room for a brief introduction. “Okay well, this is our everyday witching hour station…” She started. “You don't have to come down here if you don't want to, but we usually encourage everyone to do so... After all it’s very fruitful for the soul to be around others like us during the most magical hour of the day, isn’t it?” Y/N didn't get to answer the question, since the nurse carried on talking right away, so she just smiled slightly and continued to follow her around the room. “Feel free to make yourself at home. You have games, food, people to talk to… there’s some books over there if you feel like reading… oh, and you can pray or practice magic too - as long as it’s not disturbing for the other patients - so no noisy rituals, no smelly potions, no bewitching other wizards and no summoning demons... is that clear?”

Y/N's eyes widened as she nodded her head eagerly. Summoning demons? Did Mrs. Carrington think she looked evil enough to be a black magic practitioner or was she just speaking out of protocol? If so… did that mean someone had ever tried it before? Y/N opened her mouth to ask, but the older witch spoke before she could. “Oh dear…” She purled, catching sight of the pendulum clock on the wall. “I would keep you company if I could, but it's almost time to give Mrs. Wolf her medication, and lord knows we don’t want her to go without it any time soon...” She patted Y/N's back sympathetically. “Oh! You should try the pumpkin spread toasts while I’m gone! They're truly something else…”

“Thank you.” Y/N smiled sheepishly with a brief nod. “I will.” Y/N still felt a little awkward collecting a plate from the pile and circling the tables by herself. Her eyes scanned the room, wishing to find someone her age or a kind looking grandma she felt comfortable enough going to sit next to, but unfortunately every witch and wizard around seemed to be settled in a group already… Y/N was the only one out, except for the half-baked witch coiled up in a corner next to Mrs. Carrington muttering nonsense under her breath. She tried to stop that aloof feeling from getting a hold of her bones, picking out a small carrot cake muffin and a toast slice spread with pumpkin butter. She still looked twice at the toffee pudding, but there were only two slices left, so she chose to leave them for her grouchy neighbor and miss Flores and walked to the drinks section instead, to pour herself a glass of cocoa milk.

She was trying to pour the milk with one hand and balance her plate of food in the other, but it turns out the milk frother was much heavier than she'd anticipated, causing her to let the plate accidentally skid from her hand for a millisecond. Y/N caught onto it quickly but not quick enough to stop her slice of toast from falling to the floor. Muttering a silent curse through her teeth, the young witch bent down in hopes to pick up the mess she’d made before anyone noticed. To Y/N’s shock however, by picking up the slice laying top down on the floor, she happened to reveal a symbol drawn in pumpkin butter.

Her knees jarred back by their own will once her gut identified it as an attacking serpent with menacing teeth and a slithery forked tongue. Her hand dropped the bread to her feet in favor of touching her temple. That woman's loud wailing was ringing beneath her skull again, just like it did at the magic fair. She felt an impulse to scream along with the voice, but her throat felt like it was knotted in an involuntary vow of silence.

With panicky beads forming in her eyes, Y/N glanced around the room. Everyone looked just as serene and unperturbed as before. With the wraith of distress still present in her features and goose bumps underneath her clothes, she reached for a napkin and wiped the stained floor hastily. What the hell was happening with her?

The next morning Y/N was surprised by a visit from her friends.

She had just finished assembling her breakfast in the tray the way she liked when they walked in the room, beaming from delight once they saw their friend conscious and smiling back at them. “Ohh…” Y/N cooed softly when she saw that Margery carried a plush toy and a 'get well soon' helium balloon under her forearm, of the kind they sell in stores around hospitals. “Stop it… is that a chubby narwhal?”

“Mm, I don’t know… Is that strawberry cream cheese?” The brown girl joked as she slumped on the chair closest to the bed and opened her mouth so that her friend would grant her a bite of her food. That day’s breakfast consisted of a wholegrain bagel with butter or strawberry cream cheese, a bowl of mixed fruit, and a mug of an instant barley drink that tasted okay but didn't provide Y/N with the energy she usually got from caffeine before starting her day.

But the wonder of seeing the familiar faces of her friends gave her all the spiritual boost she needed. Especially the frisky one of her best friend Margery.

She was a very affectionate sea witch, despite her rather dark aesthetic. She wore long blue dreadlocks, decorated with cowrie shells, beads and countless thin gold rings like the one that adorned the center of her lower lip. She preferred to dress in black or dark shades almost every day and always carried more than five pieces of jewelry on her – Most of them were crafted by her own hands, since she owned a small knickknack business. Y/N helped her with it at times, and in return Margery taught her how to make gemstone pendants from scratch and how to combine stones to improve their magical powers. It was a good dynamic that benefited both girls.

Then there was Axl, he was a couple years younger than the rest, despite being the tallest and broadest. He was a true potions master, and it turns out that his talent also extended to the kitchen. Axl always made the best soups and stews... full of flavors, colors, and mouthwatering aromas. Anything he served was always a real treat for the senses… well, except for that time he got distracted and welcomed his friends with a bowl of carrot flavored laxative potion that was meant to relieve his grandma’s intestinal gas instead of roasted vegetable soup and left everyone tutting all night long… That wasn’t a treat for anyone's olfactory sense, but they got through it together like good friends do.

And finally, there was Pam. A girl who would happily live in a cabin isolated from the rest of the magic world forever if she could. She did disappear off the map often. To go on lonely trips around the globe with no day of return planned. The only company she truly couldn’t do without was Dodger, her pet ferret which she always carried right over her shoulder or on a red sparkly leash. Y/N was slightly appalled that Pam had come into town just to visit her, since she always got quite squirmy in places with many people and usually always needed at least a month of isolation to recover after attending a big, crowded event like the fair, but she was happy to see her crotchety face anyway.

“Do you guys want to try some hospital breakfast as well?” Y/N asked Pam and Axl, who took the remaining empty seats on the couch. They didn’t seem too interested so she forked a grape from her fruit serving and took it to her mouth. “What about you Dodger baby? I bet you would love a little banana slice to chew on, wouldn’t you?” Y/N gave Pam that look. She normally never let anyone feed fruit to her pet because well, ferrets weren’t supposed to eat it… but the little guy loved bananas, and Y/N loved to watch him eat them.

“Fine…” Pam granted after a moment of silence. “Only because you're sick, otherwise I wouldn't let you spoil him…” Y/N flashed her a grin, finger picking a small piece out of the fruit box and throwing it over the seat for the ferret to catch.

“I'm not sick anymore I think… they just want me to stay for a couple more days to make sure I don’t have any other weird allergy symptoms.”

“I didn’t know people could get anaphylaxis from sleep wasps…” Axl mumbled under his breath, prompting the girls to flash him a chastising look. The kind that made it explicit that this wasn't the first time they'd discussed the topic. “What? It’s true… I went to Wiccapedia and it said that there is no known species of magical insect whose venom causes immediate fever. Much less high enough to cause hallucinations…”

“Last time I checked you weren't a doctor, besides Wiccapedia is not a reliable source of information, you should know by now…” Margery interrupted Axl’s commenting, raising her voice with annoyance. “If the doctors say that's what happened, it's because it was.” “Either that or they're not telling us the truth.” Axl spat, crossing his legs and his arms simultaneously. “If they were fully convinced the issue was just allergy fever, by now they would’ve sent her home with an antidote prescription…”

Y/N was sitting against the bedframe watching them argue like she was watching a ping pong tournament. With her head incessantly swiveling from side to side to try to keep up with what was going on. “Okay, enough!” She spat, once she was done listening to them bicker. “There’s something I need to tell you…” That made their discussion stop and their heads turn towards her expectantly. “…Remember my crazy aunt, Rowena? The Las Vegas fortune-teller?”

“Rowena…” Axl squinted as he tried to remember. “That name sounds vaguely familiar…”

“The milf one, with the nice rack.” Margery elucidated, making Y/N scowl although it seemed to do the trick for Axl’s memory. “What? It’s true. She has got a great rack… It's hard not to notice.”

“Okay well, forget about her tits for a moment.” Y/N sighed, holding her eyes shut for a second. “The point is I'm starting to think she's not so crazy after all…”

She told them there - about the screaming woman and cloud of smoke she'd witnessed at the fair, about aunt Rowena's telltale of hallucinating experiences, how she was beginning to think they might have that unusual flair in common, and even about the serpent omen that she'd seen the day prior during the witching hour. “Wow, that’s crazy… I thought the common omens for Seers were crows and clouds... and feelings…” Axl said in awe. “Have you told that to anyone in here? They must totally think you have bats in the belfry if you did so…”

“I don’t have bats in the belfry! I’m not crazy…” Y/N stood up for her sanity. “And no, I haven’t told anyone! I know it sounds mental, but that's not even what’s worrying me the most… These are abnormal omens, you know? The feeling I get while it’s happening is… dark, and cold, it's horrible.”

“Are you sure that what you saw was a serpent and not a snake?” Pam asked, her eyes fixed on the magic themed website she was consulting on her phone. “It says here they're quite different...” She started reading the words aloud. “A snake can be linked to healing, birth, fertility… it’s a good omen generally. I mean, unless this is your way of finding out you're carrying a rando’s baby... I’m sure that would be somewhat disconcerting.”

“She’s not carrying a baby.” Margery heaved on the defensive, before her face turned to Y/N's for confirmation. “You’re not, right?”

“Unless I have a slutty sleepwalking side, or can now get pregnant through my imagination, I would say no.”

“Well then, is there any chance someone close to you might be?”

Y/N shook her head earnestly. The word that surged in her subconscious right as her eyes caught sight of that symbol was serpent. Not snake, not cobra - serpent. “What does it say about the other symbol?” The witch asked inquisitively, dismissing any more pregnancy questions.

Pam cleared her throat as she focused back on the article. “It says that… that the serpent is one of the oldest and most widespread mythological symbols.” Y/N breathed in relief at the news. At least it was common. “Throughout the years, this symbol has been linked to the Devil or Satan that leads the whole world astray. Chaos, corruption, and darkness are some of its most common interpretations. It is also believed that if a serpent omen crosses your path, an enemy is nearby.”

When Pam looked up from the phone, she was being stared at by livid and appalled faces. “What? You’re not all genuinely afraid of a symbol now, are you?”

Y/N is not really afraid of the symbol per se, but she has to admit it’s quite disconcerting that she keeps seeing it everywhere. So much that often times she finds herself questioning if it's a mere suggestion of fear or if it really could be happening. Like when she stares out the window to watch the stormy weather through the glass before bed and the wind blows over the willow tree planted outside in the hospital garden, causing its branches to form a snake-like pattern. Or later, by the end of the witching hour, when she finishes a mug of cocoa milk and the dregs of chocolate at the end form a drawing similar to a coiled serpent that covers practically the full bottom of the mug. The presages always make Y/N’s spine waggle a little beyond control, but after the third day they don’t surprise her that much anymore… At least not as much as when she decides to go for a walk without destination around the hospital to stimulate the circulation in her legs and is suddenly faced with an entrance to a tiny greenhouse. She looks up at the ceiling, marveling at the pyramidal glass structure that is covered in layers upon layers of green plants and kaleidoscopic flowers of all shapes and sizes. There are wood and stone structures inside, to which vines curl around like leafy swirls. The mossy shelves and gardening tables are burdened by pots of bulbous flowers, earthy herbs and mushroom species Y/N had never seen before. Like a miniature garden of Eden shielded behind tall, translucent walls. But it's when she starts hearing a lively voice talking inside, that Y/N can't curb her own curiosity… poking her head through the entrance for a quick overlook. What she saw caused her to hold her breath for what seemed like an interminable amount of time. The quiet botanical wizard was standing in front of a scaled-down wooden cottage made from the roots of a wild tree. Just like the first time she'd seen him, he had on his cute little gardening attire… but this time there was also a crown made from pansies and lavender perched over his head, that looked far too perfect to have been braided by human fingers. He was spiritedly reciting fairy tale lines from the pages of a book held in between his hands to a thumb-sized, elfin audience. The groups of fairy creatures sat over the roof of their verdant hut, perching up their hairy heads over flimsy arms or bent knees. Their skin glowed a soft shade of yellow, by virtue of their luminous wings. Their ears and noses were pointy and delicate, providing their mischievous features with certain feline characteristics. They listened attentively to the different dialogues recited by the boy, who read them a story with as much dedication as that of a father reading to his children.

Y/N couldn't not stand quietly by the door watching him spiel. The boy before her was wonderful - from the flowers in his hair to his soft spoken voice. His features seemed to have been outlined by the gods, a perfect balance between tender and sharp. Masculine and feminine. His irises were as dazzling as amazonite beads. Bright and tinged in a deep shade of iceberg green, and if that didn’t make him attractive enough, he looked so… gentle and lovable. Of course Y/N never spoke to him, so her opinions are utterly romanticized but there is no way a wizard who reads sleep stories to fairies isn’t an absolute sweetheart. Y/N is completely taken by him, so sucked in on his appearance that it takes her more time than it should have to register that his lips have fallen silent, and he is now looking back at her, cheeks burning scarlet and body as stiff as a corpse. Harry shudders slightly when the girl steps inside the greenhouse, what ends up scaring off his fairies who rush to go hide inside their hut. “Oh no. I’m sorry… I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to upset them...” She apologizes sincerely, pacing back outside. The last thing she wanted was to disturb the fairies or make him upset. She just wanted to talk to him. “What’s your name?” She asked softly and tentatively, despite already knowing the answer. “It’s um… H-Harry.” He stuttered a little, still intensely staring at her. “Hi Harry.” Y/N beamed at him, leaning against the entryway. “I’m Y/N.” “Hello.” Harry smiled back, albeit very shyly. “I was enjoying hearing you read… you have a beautiful voice.” She commended, because for some reason it was easy to show fondness when he was so flustered. She just wanted to make him feel loved and appreciated from the inside out for no motive other than the fact that he was cute and skittish like a stray kitten. Harry didn't reply, just looked down and smiled unsurely. “Okay, I'll leave you alone now. I hope I haven't upset you or your little friends too much…” Y/N voiced lowly, waving softly with her hand. “Bye Harry.” “Did you... did you like your magic tree?” He still asked before she could leave. Y/N's heart jumped happily at the realization that she had been mistaken. He hadn’t been planning on getting his tree back after all. “Oh! I loved it. So, so much! I play with it before bed everyday, it helps me relax and sleep better.” The wizard struggled to hide a blushing smile, nodding once at the revelation. There was something so endearing about Harry… Y/N couldn’t quite pinpoint exactly what but he just carried such an appeasing aura around him. Strong enough to cloak the negative feeling that seemed to have been haunting her surroundings as of lately. She won’t lie and say she wouldn’t like it better if Harry was more open to conversation, but the fact that he wasn’t very talkative didn't change his appeal to her - he could be completely mute and her desire to spend time together with him would still hold up. Not only that but she had an inkling that he mostly kept to himself and didn’t talk to many people in or outside the hospital (other than the absolute necessary) and although maybe he did like things to be that way, he didn’t seem entirely put off by her effort to socialize… just a tad nervous. Y/N is thinking that perhaps he is just someone who needs a bit more time to unwind, and the prospect that other people might not have even gave him a chance to makes her a bit sad... because his presence was so pleasing and his eyes so expressive that even though he didn’t speak, it felt like no words were amiss. Forasmuch, Y/N resolves that as long as Harry doesn’t show to be bothered by her attempts, she will continue to try and become friends with him. ** And when she goes to sleep that night under the soft purply glow of her magic tree dome, Y/N holds on tightly to her new narwhal plushy… just the same as she does to the limns of a certain peculiar wizard swimming around her subconscious. Maybe Y/N has got a bit of crush on him… A teensy-weensy bit of a crush.

Being in such a good sleep, the last thing Y/N expected was to be woken up from her peaceful slumber by a blaring alarm echoing throughout the hospital in the middle of the night. Her confused head perks up, eyes going wide despite still burning from sleep. The room is still dark so she can make out the red blinking flashes glowing under the door breach closest to the floor.

What was happening? Was there a fire? Her sluggish legs slither off the bed as fast as they can and head towards the couch in the dark, where she hurriedly put on her robe to top her summer pajama set that barely covered any skin before heading towards the door. She winced when the blinding lights of the hospital corridor and the noisy alarm ring clashed all her senses, making her feel rather disoriented.

There were several other disheveled heads like hers peeking out of their rooms, and this time there were two nurses in the front room, helping Mr. Hawk onto his wheelchair with much more urgency than last time she’d seen it happening.

“What happened?” A witch with greyish hair and an unfriendly face questioned from her assigned room at the end of the hallway. “Should we just head back to bed or what? I have better things to do than to stand here waiting for answers.”

“We want everyone out of their rooms.” One of the nurses clarified, looking rather shaken. “There has been an attack, someone got injured. Please follow to the night station. Do it orderly please - you'll be safe there.” He added, before turning his back and hurrying to disappear behind the fire doors.

Y/N's face hardened in fear as she, along with everyone else, stepped out of the room and did as the man had instructed.

Something felt odd though.

There was this pulling, like a tugging sensation she felt in her gut, pressing her into taking another direction than the one the nurse had told them to go in. This sensation was also leaving her quite uneasy and overall worried over something – what was it?

Her head kept wondering, until she noticed something that caused each hair on her body to stand to the tips with stress - Harry wasn’t in between the people occupying the night station. Where was he? Was he okay? Y/N didn’t know - and for some reason that was making her heart drop and rush frightened at the same time. To the point where all she could do was squeeze the fabric of her shirt over her chest and feel afflicted, like someone might have just sliced her heart into pieces like an apple.

She really shouldn't let that affliction get a hold of her better judgement, but that was easier said than done when the esoteric part of her core kept screaming that something was wrong, and her mind kept taking her back to the greenhouse where she had last seen him – Had anyone known he was there in the first place? Had anyone remembered to go check?

An invisible connective string prompted Y/N to move away from her place and begin to break through the crowd, and before she could question your own actions, she was already back on the way towards the greenhouse. Double checking every corridor and doorway she came across this time, partly because she was searching for Harry, but mostly because she was rather spooked that everything felt a little too close to a horror movie. And the worst part was that if this was indeed a horror movie Y/N was watching and there was a character doing exactly what she was doing - walking around a hospital in the dark knowing damn well there has been an attack a little while ago - she’d be rolling her eyes at the screen, knowing the dumb little person was about to die. And when they did, she wouldn’t even feel sorry for them, because they had it coming all along by acting so fucking stupid!

And all because of a boy she hasn’t even had a proper conversation with.

Y/N must have gone real sick in the head.

That would be the only explanation really.

Because fine, she might have thought Harry to be unbelievably cute and handsome but that alone couldn't be reason enough for her to be putting herself in danger for him, could it? No. This anguish was illogical - and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t come up with a single commonsensical justification for why she would feel the need to go roaming a hospital in the dead of the night just to make sure he wasn’t the person who had gotten injured, or worse... one other person who had gotten injured and hadn’t been found yet.

But the closer Y/N got to the greenhouse the more it made sense, because she could feel this burdensome, painful energy steaming in the air. It wasn't as strong as what she had felt at the magic fair, but it somewhat reminiscent of that darkness that seeped through her pores and ate away any positive feelings she could have. That unconsciously made her quicken her step until she spotted the familiar bedroom-sized glass structure. The fact that the place was now in complete debris flew right over her head as soon as her eyes caught upon the fact that Harry was standing there alone - so far looking to be in good health.

“Thank goodness! You’re here!” The young witch exclaimed in relief, loping towards him and wrapping his body in what was probably a very startling, uncomfortable hug for him. “I was so scared! The nurse said someone had gotten injured and that we had to go the night station… and I noticed everyone else was there, but you weren’t and I thought… I thought…” Her voice dispersed into nothing when she realized Harry was hugging her back, but now his chest was shaking and there were hot spurts falling directly from the tips of his lashes onto the skin of her cheekbones. “What’s wrong?”

“The fairies…” He spoke arduously in between sniffles. “They’ve been cursed. All of them.”

“Cursed?” Y/N asked, pulling away but letting her hands continue to have a hold of his arms. “How do you mean?”

“I don’t know, I- I casted a protective charm to keep them shielded from goblins and other evil creatures that could try to harm them...” He sputtered, trying his hardest to swallow the snivels. “This never happened before… and now suddenly that Beldam witch is gone and-”

“There was a Beldam witch staying at the hospital?” Y/N interrupted, staring at him in shock. Beldam witches were what people commonly referred to as wicked witches. Known for their practice of black magic and misdeeds and their desire to always do harm through their magic. For that reason, they didn’t usually come around places with many people, let alone hospitals where they would have to be around other wizards and witches.

Harry nodded his head weakly. “We’re a community hospital so there’s all kinds of patients here…” He explained, hastily wiping his face clean and swallowing around a sorrowful hiccup. “She hurt Mrs. Carrington... the Beldam witch who was hospitalized here, I mean. Her name is Lucinda Wolf. She’s known to be associated with some sinister stuff – like, black magic stuff.”

Y/N could feel his mournful energy making her chest tighten, in a similar way than it did that time Azura the cat mysteriously disappeared during her heat cycle, and she spent 4 days wondering if she was ever going to make it home again. “What happened to Mrs. Carrington?” The girl questioned apprehensively. “Has she been put under a curse too?”

Harry nodded his head and pawed at his eyes. “I'm not too worried about Mrs. Carrington, We've already medicated her and she’s reacting well to the treatments. I’m positive she’ll recover quickly, but the fairies... they’re so small and this magic is so powerful… It makes me scared I’ll never be able to revive them.” He admitted wistfully as he stared out the window at the rainy nightscape that seemed to wail with grief along with him.

Although Y/N's knowledge on fae and eerie creatures is limited, she knows fairies can't be killed by force. They are one of the few magical entities that can only die of old age. However, alike all living beings, they aren’t immune to getting bewitched against their will or tortured with wicked magic beyond remedy. That was the worst-case scenario that Harry feared. It was all he could think of, and although she too condemned any kind of harm done towards such pure and innocent creatures, her inductive mind was more preoccupied trying to join the dots.

The dark cloud, the continuous rainstorms, the serpent omens and now a hospital attack... It couldn't all be a big coincidence.

“The fairy dust,” Y/N asked softly. “What can it be used for?”

“So many things. I can't even list all of them, but when used for its healing powers, it can improve almost any remedy. That's why I keep them around the hospital. They love to help with the medications...” Harry explained slowly, his eyes fixed on the copper-colored sticky potion flowing from the broken flasks on the floor. “It is also useful in transformation and reversing spells, power negation… It can nullify the power of magical objects and beings, including ours.” Y/N's lips parted in astonishment and concern. “It’s extremely powerful, and when used to commit the havoc, it can be disastrous...”

“You mentioned that she was into dark stuff… do you think whatever reason that's behind her actions could be… not human?” Harry nodded his head, taking another brief glance around the ravaged greenhouse. Then he squinted, noticing a fresh splatter of something on the floor that wasn’t there before the attack. He crouched by it, took a broken branch and stuck it in the liquid, pulling it out to see the sticky texture that stretched with the movement of his arm. Slimy and glowing blue - Kelpie blood. Judging by the look in Harry's face, it was also his first time seeing it other than in books or internet articles. Kelpies were ghostly horse-like creatures. They are difficult to find since they inhabit mostly in secluded areas with shallow waters. In present times in the magic world, their blood could only be acquired through illegal trade due to threat of extinction of the sea hybrids species. For that reason, it was extremely rare and pricey, and often associated with the practice of black magic – and more specifically, summoning rituals.

That's a fact both Y/N and Harry are aware of, what made them exchange a knowing, slightly aghast look. “Something was summoned here...” Harry stated lowly, although he knew his company had already reached the same conclusion. “I should have seen it coming. I should have known she was planning something. The bad weather, those spine-curdling feelings… Malicious magic always leaves a trail behind... a bad aura.”

“Wait – a bad aura? Does that mean you’ve felt it too?”

“I thought I was the only one…”

“Have you been seeing things also?” Harry’s eyebrows furrowed at the odd question before he replied by apprehensively shaking his head. “Sorry, that -that probably made me sound like an absolute crazy… it’s just… there's some weird things I've been seeing, but it’s frustrating because I don't know how to interpret them”

“I don’t think you’re crazy.” He sooths her worriment. “I haven’t seen anything weird myself, but I think I’ve witnessed something who did…”

“What was it?”

“A week ago I went to the lake because I needed algae to make a remedy for marsh-leech bites and- there were some mushroom frog-fairies feeding by the water's edge... I was trying to be very quiet not to upset them,” Harry’s telling made Y/N's heart swell slightly. He seemed so sweet and caring over all the little beings… she couldn’t even begin to imagine how bad he must be hurting over what happened – Y/N would never leave his side again if she could, and maybe that’s a weird thing to think about a practical stranger but it’s honestly how she feels regards Harry. Not out of pity might she add, just because his presence feels makes her feel better for reasons unknown to her. “And then, suddenly I felt as if something evil was looming over my head. I couldn’t see it, but when I peered at the fairies - they looked terrified. Jumping from their mushrooms and hiding underwater. They’re very discerning of these types of evil things, much more than us anyway… we tend to be a lot more unmindful and skeptic - can't see what you won't believe, right?”

“That's the scariest part, I think…” Y/N visibly shivered. “It's making me feel all icky just thinking about it. That it could be right next to us and we still can't see it.”

“But you’ve seen it, right?” He asked. She nodded fleetingly. “So then… does that mean you’re like… a psychic or something?”

Y/N huffed, shaking her head. “I mean… maybe technically but – this never happened to me before. I’ve always had sort of better intuition than most and if I receive any signs from the universe, they’re small… and personal, if that makes sense. But ever since Midsummer’s Day I’ve been seeing and hearing things that other people can’t and coming across some… scary omens.”

Harry scrunches his nose. “Scary omens?”

“Yeah, um…” Y/N hesitated, remembering her friends’ suggestion not to tell any of the people working at the hospital, but she didn’t reckon Harry would be the most likely to question her sanity. His interest seemed genuine, and so did the soft gleam in his eyes. “Ever since I came here, I’ve been seeing… a serpent symbol almost every night. My friends and I were researching about it and supposedly it is associated with darkness and um… evil witchcraft, I guess?”

“During the witching hour?” He questions her, looking rather stunned once she nodded affirmatively. “That makes sense… it’s supposed to be the best hour for bidding evil things, isn’t it? The thing is… Lucinda was being put under magic cancelling medicine every night during the witching hour, so-”

Y/N gasped as a memory from the first time she visited the hospital’s witching hour station came back to her. “So that was her? That kooky witch Mrs. Carrington was medicating at the night station…?” Harry looked at her, not knowing how to answer since he wasn’t there to see it. “She kept mumbling odd words to herself… I thought it was just crazy people gibberish but - what if she was already trying to do something back then? That was the first time I saw the serpent!”

Harry took a moment to collect his thoughts before speaking. “She was probably trying to make it stronger...” He said, prompting Y/N's brows to dip. “Allegedly, you can’t summon a demon into our world without performing a physical ritual with the blood offerings and all that… however, the demon can still hear the calling of a conjuring spell… and it makes it stronger supposedly - something about showing devotion and whatnot.” Harry rumpled his lips, dumping his head just so he could stare down. “But how? Lucinda was under that canceller… how could she get back enough power to perform a demon-summoning ritual?”

“The fairies!” Y/N exclaimed, calling Harry’s attention, whose eyes jumped to bore into her face. “That’s why she needed them! Didn’t you say fairy dust could be used to reverse spells? Well, is it also strong enough to reverse a magic canceller?”

“Oh my God…” Harry gasped at the realization, his body recoiling towards the floor as he buried his face in his hands. “This is all my fault! There’s a demon out there and it’s my fault! I should’ve never let the fairies stay at the hospital…” He mumbled, crushing his face deeper against his palms. “I thought- I thought I was doing something good because they were happy - and they loved their little house - and now…” His voice broke into a shaky breath, right before he sucked in a wobbly sniffle.

“Harry, no...” Y/N cooed sadly as she took a seat next to him on the floor. “You did nothing wrong. None of this is your fault. We’ll fix it, okay? Curses can be undone, we’ll just have to find the right antidote and, as far as the demon goes… well, I don’t know about that part yet but I’m sure we’ll start figuring it out as we go.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?” His question startled her a little, mostly because she hadn’t been expecting him to be concerned with all those whys and wherefores that she couldn’t even understand herself, let alone explain to him. “I appreciate it, I just don’t understand- like, why you’re offering to help when you could simply… look the other way?“

“I don’t know.” Y/N answered sincerely. “But I don’t think I have much of a choice when the universe keeps sending me these signs and demanding that I don’t ignore them. Besides, I’ve always loved a good mystery... and when it comes to those, two heads always work better than one, right?”

Y/N and Harry spend all their time together now.

Commonly her mornings now consisted of waking up, having breakfast, doing her hygiene and going to meet Harry at the greenhouse. She liked to keep him company because well, he’s very nice and has lots of interesting books laying around but also because she knew he got upset having to work at the greenhouse now – since it was a constant reminder that his little creature friends were currently debilitated. The two of them had moved the fairy cottage onto the back and covered up its old spot in blooming stargazer lilies for the time being, in a conscious effort into try and trick Harry’s brain into not remembering so often. It made it a little better but on more than one occasion, when Y/N glanced up from the books of shadows she was reading (looking to find useful clues to unravel the mystery) she still found him with tears wallowing in his eyes.

Later they usually go to the cafeteria for lunch, which Y/N likes way better than eating alone in her room because she enjoys having (his) company and getting to choose the dish option she wants. Besides, there's always vanilla pudding! Her and Harry try the others sometimes but so far, that one remains both their favorite.

On the days Harry stays at the hospital until later, they have dinner together too. Now that Y/N is thinking about it, the only times they aren't in each other’s company is when Harry is at home or doing errands outside the hospital – like going to the garden center or gathering his own plants. It’s to the point that she gets stressed sometimes thinking she's overwhelming him, but then she remembers the one time she tried to leave him alone for a whole day, he appeared by her bedroom at twilight looking like an abandoned puppy asking if she was upset or didn’t want to be friends anymore.

“I was talking to my doctor today and he said that supposedly I will be going back home in two days.” Y/N told him, doing a little happy dance in her seat. “I miss my cat so much! I can’t wait to see her. Only I bet no one remembered to change her litter box while I was here so... more likely than not I'll be walking inside and finding cat poo all over my rugs…” The corners of Harry’s lips upturned in a soft smile at her happy demeanor, but his face fell down towards his lap soon after. “What’s wrong?” She asked, leaning forwards.

“It’s nothing.” He tilted his head up slightly, but quickly dropped it again. “I guess I just… I almost forgot you were going to have to leave at some point…”

“You going to miss me?” Y/N asked, making him nod joylessly. “I'm going to miss our days together too, but I was um... hoping you'd want to keep seeing each other outside the hospital?” She giggled when he perked up his face all frenzied just so he could look at her. “You can come to my house whenever you want, even after we figure what's up with this black magic thing.”

“Really? You would like me to come to your house?”

“Yeah? I mean… if you’re comfortable, of course. If you’re not, we can always arrange to meet somewhere else. I could also come here to visit sometimes if you’d like me to.”

“I would like that a lot. I just thought that maybe you only wanted to be my friend because you were staying here…” Harry said sincerely. “‘cause I’m sure you have other friends out there that should be more fun to spend time with, I guess.”

“Why would you even think that? I love spending time with you.” Y/N replied, a bit whiny because really does enjoy every single moment she spends with Harry. He’s very special to her… perhaps even more than he should be, taken the fact she’s only known him for less than a week, but she sort of feels like they’ve bonded abnormally well - not only over the situation they’re stuck in together but also over the little things that make them different from others their kind.

Y/N has secretly always felt a bit like an oddball due to her unusual abilities, but when she's with Harry she never feels that way… He has always been nothing but accepting and motivating of her being the way she is. On top of that, his personality is so likeable and engaging once you get past that brick wall of shyness… He has also got a sly tendency for accidental innuendos. Y/N knows they are accidental because of the way he stares at her when she starts laughing out of the blue at something he said. Then he mentally rolls back the tape and realizes, what usually ends in a shake of his head and the sputtering of something like “The naughty little bugs never catch a break in that mind of yours, do they?” What never fails to make her laugh harder, despite it always leaving her cheeks tingly and warm.

“I like spending time with you too.” Harry said, smiling widely.

“Okay, that’s good to know because I was actually planning on asking you to join me on something a bit… bizarre.” Y/N's words made him frown curiously, but he seemed eager enough. “Have you ever been to the normal part of Las Vegas?”

To put a long story short, that was how Y/N found herself trading the hospital pajamas for a top, cropped jeans, a leather jacket, and riding a bus a few miles across the country with Harry the following weekend. Who had also ditched his gardening apron for a pair of corduroy pants and a vintage hoodie whose color matched the mustard yellow of his skater shoes. Y/N was surprised to find that his casual clothes made him look even more endearing than his work attire in her eyes – something she didn’t think to be possible, until he showed up at the bus station looking like that – all cozy and folksy with his duffle bag perched over his shoulder.

It was a slow trip. Therefore, Y/N had been falling in and out of sleep throughout the second-half of it… until she finally woke up to surroundings of bright and colorful Vegas light signs, imposing casino and resort buildings with illuminated fountains upfront and promises of paranormal, mind-blowing shows at nearly every corner. She practically climbed over Harry's lap to get to the window, purposefully stirring him awake as well just so he could see it too.

The rest of the drive was made with both of them staring outside in awe and finger pointing the most compelling signboards and buildings, with big smiles painted on their faces as they began to discern the hurried reflexes of the city’s exciting nightlife and luxurious looking architecture they’d only ever seen on TV.

It was nice to get the chance to engage in typical tourist behavior and forget about the dark reality they had come for during the couple of minutes left inside the bus, and then the taxi that drove them up hills of palm trees and exclusive neighborhoods until they were reaching the entrance to the extravagant community aunt Rowena lived in. The houses were fit for kings and queens... with stone veneers, polished terraces, and glossy swimming pools.

The Monterey style villa in front of which the taxi stopped stood out of the many other giant houses. Built in the heart of a small forest of yucca plants and towering single trunk palm trees, it was painted in a pale shade of pink that contrasted greatly with the inviting turquoise pool flooring. Above the house's double entry doors, was an intriguing arched window - complemented by a round balcony with nature-inspired balustrades and a flower vase on each end. Y/N would’ve believed she had gotten the wrong address from the white pages, if not for the mesmerizing figure of her aunt soon appearing from behind the front doors like she’d been expecting a visit. A sly smile decorated her red-painted lips as she elegantly descended the stone steps of the front porch. The baggy pants of her white suit hugged her defined legs with every step she took, as did the fitted blazer she also wore. Unsurprisingly, Rowena had forgone the bra for the day, leaving her bare chest almost fully exposed, and only masked by the long, waved strands of black hair that fell towards her navel.

Y/N glanced at Harry, who’s cheeks had turned scarlet, and neck was visibly gulping at the startling sight. The way most people got when they met the iconic Las Vegas fortune-teller. She was a very good-looking woman for her age - that was kept undisclosed for most, but Y/N knew she must've been approaching her 60’s by comparison to her mom’s age. The TV star looks weren’t all she got going for her though… even the way she carried herself demanded admiration and deference, her aura was invincible, sensual, and powerful. A true power-house she was.

“Goodness me! Look at you!” The witch came to greet her niece with open arms and a wide smile. “Looking more and more like your mother every time I see you!” She enveloped Y/N's body in a hug, before turning her attention to the boy standing beside her. “And you're partnered up already, I see...”

“Oh! Harry and I are not… we’re just friends.” Y/N laughed a little, trying to ignore the way her cheeks now felt warmer. Rowena’s eyebrows shot up her forehead. “Well then…” Her mischievous eyes jumped between the two. “I’m certain the stars will do their trick when the right moment comes.” She stated conclusively, before moving on with the subject like she was completely oblivious to the way their lips pursed and their eyes widened in panic. “Shall we go inside then? You should’ve let me know what time you were coming; I could’ve sent one of my drivers to pick you up…” “You knew we were coming?” Y/N asked surprised.

“Oh dear, of course I did…” The women said, like it was something to be expected. “My finest guest room has been ready for days now...” She added as she welcomed the pair into her large living room, that truly didn’t look like it was much lived in at all. - It was very Victorian styled… the furniture had ornate wooden carved embellishments, finished in gold leaf. The sofas were the color of blushing red, velvety and decorated with countless damask pillows, each with a different floral pattern. The central coffee table was marble topped, but its feet were adorned with the same golden wood present in the rest of the room’s furnishing. Made from the same marble stone was the cornered fireplace, that happened to come alive with graceful, temperate flames with a mere flick of Rowena’s hand as she walked through the door. The weather was too hot for any extra warmth to be seemly, but there was no denying that the sizzling background noise and the dim luminosity always felt rather nice.

“Oh! We were actually planning on staying at this cheap motel we saw, thought we should spare you the trouble of-“ Y/N timidly explained. It wasn’t that the thought of spending the night at a luxurious mansion for free wasn’t way more appealing than spending it at a “not so cheap” cheap motel room, on an overused bunk bed she might have to share with other strangers… it was that despite being family, she didn't really have enough trust with aunt Rowena to make herself a guest in spending the night at her house without prior invitation. She didn’t even have her phone number! – And if her mansion hadn’t once been part of one of those weird celebrity home tours, Y/N would've probably never found her aunt's address.

“Nonsense darling, it’s my pleasure to have you.” Rowena smiled as she sat in one of the armchairs, gesturing for her guests to take the sofa seats. “You are more than welcome to stay for as long as you’d like… I mean, look around…! I own such a big mansion, it’s a shame there’s usually no one around to enjoy it with me… aside from the occasional pool boy of course…” She winked at Harry, noticing his bashful demeanor upon hearing her suggestive revelation. Y/N opened her mouth to say the motel had already been booked, but Rowena stopped her. “Don’t worry about your bookings, I’ll make sure they are taken care of… it’s the least I can do. And I can also assure you any room in this house is far nicer than the finest hotel room this city has to offer.” The witch informed, gracefully crossing her legs and lacing her manicured hands over the top knee, what brought Y/N to notice that the nail polish covering her long, rounded nails matched the scarlet shade of her lipstick. “… besides, I’d love to spend some more time with you. I’m aware you came to me for guidance, but I can’t help but to wish to deepen our connection.” Rowena leaned forward, taking her niece's hands in hers. “It’s nice not to feel so… disparate inside my own family for once.”

Y/N nodded her head in understanding, looking away for a moment to check on Harry. She wanted to make sure he was also at rest with the sudden change of plans. “Would you like to stay, or would you prefer to keep to the original plan? Either is all right with me... I just want you to be comfortable.”

She could almost feel the nervous sweat that began to boil underneath his skin as soon as Rowena’s attention focused on him. The poor thing used to fear speaking to her, who in terms of scare worthy, could probably compare to a fluffy pink teddy bear or something harmless like that… and, although Rowena was nothing like a scary swamp hag, she looked a bit intimidating for anyone as it was for being such a mighty, beautiful witch. Therefore, Y/N figured Harry should probably be feeling quite mortified having to speak in front of her. But he did. “I’m okay staying if you want to.” He spoke. It was low and almost incomprehensible, but both witches understood.

“That settles it then.” The aunt chimed resolutely, slotting her fingers together blithely. “Just one more thing just so we can get this topic out of the way... my housekeeper only left one room prepared. The bed is double and quite spacious, but if you’d prefer separate rooms, that can also be arranged…”

Y/N's face felt like it was on fire as she span it to face Harry, but surprisingly he seemed rather unphased over having to share a bed. He even seemed... relieved? sort of - which she guessed wasn’t so weird, after all if it were her in his shoes, she would certainly also prefer that over sleeping alone inside a huge house she didn’t know. So, the real question was, why was she getting all hot and bothered over it?

It wasn't like she genuinely thought something was going to happen just because they were sharing a bed. They weren’t horny teenagers, besides Harry was so… soft and innocent and genuinely good-hearted, that it was practically unthinkable that he would ever even think of looking at her in any way other than respectfully, let alone actually go and try anything... which was a little frustrating because Y/N kind of wished he would. She feels rather dirty and filthy for thinking of such a sweet human so inappropriately sometimes - for wondering what his body looks like underneath his clothes and wanting to explore his softest (and hardest) spots in a hands-on type of way. She shouldn’t be thinking about it… and she definitely shouldn’t be getting horny whilst sitting on her aunt’s expensive Victorian couch neither, but oh well.

“I’m guessing your visit is related to your power progression, correct?” Rowena’s question felt startling, prompting Y/N to jump a little in her seat before managing a brisk nod. “I see… I figured it was bound to happen soon. I was also in my twenties when my vision expanded. Pyramid Field, 1982… what a great psychedelic time that was…” The witch sighed at the considerably aged memory. “But you’ve always been a clever girl… so I’m predicting your trigger was nothing like a trip on hallucinogens, was it?”

“No.” The younger witch chuckled, shaking her head. “It was last week, at the local magic fair.” Rowena nodded once, waiting for her niece to continue. “I’ve been coming across some omens… and I was hoping maybe, you could help me figure what they mean because…” She glanced at Harry for a moment. “Strange things have been happening back at home lately, and I was hoping maybe if I could learn how to interpret the signs, I would know what to do to prevent said things from happening… or how to fix them.”

“Very well…” The older witch rose, bringing her hands to her garment in a fluid motion to straighten it. “Follow me, then.”

Y/N promptly stood up after her, reaching behind for Harry so he knew she was expecting him to come along. He had gone a little wide-eyed in the meantime, as if second guessing if he was supposed to stay behind or not. To Y/N's surprise, he grabbed her hand. Gently cupping his fingers around her palm and not dropping even after he was standing next to her. Her back straightened from the unexpected contact - but she held onto his grip tighter.

“Interpreting omens is a lot more complicated than it seems at first sight… and learning how to do it requires a lot of patience and attention. I’m sure you’ve heard some of the folkloric classics - black cats, broken mirrors and suchlike things…” Y/N spat a quick yes, desperately trying to focus on her aunt's words and not on Harry’s hand holding hers as they followed Rowena through the endless corridors of her mansion. “Well then, you can rejoice on the fact that those are anything but accurate. There is a distinctive energy to an omen, it’s weighty and almost… demanding of attention. It will speak directly to your soul. Bounding you to not only see it, but perceive it.”

Rowena led them into a room Y/N quickly assumed to be the one where she conducted her home-divination sessions. The room was bathed in a dark reddish light, which gave it a warm and mystical atmosphere. A sun-shaped structure decorated the center of the dark blue ceiling, surrounded by stars and plaster designs. In the corner, there was a lotus-shaped burner that scented the room with hints of spice and floral notes. The walls were crammed with bookshelves and open cupboards to keep crystal balls, charts for arithmancy and numerology, in between other items Y/N believed were there mostly to wow the non-magic costumers who frequented the room.

“Omens may come in billions of varieties, so it’s important to stay in touch with nature and seasonal changes, just so that you can identify behaviors that are out of the ordinary more easily.” Rowena grabbed a leather-bound book from one of her bookcases and carefully spread it open over her divination table. “And then there are the specific symbols, of course…” She explained, as she flicked through the pages. “A couple hundreds of them… but fairly easy to memorize with time.”

“Just to be sure… that is a serpent symbol right there, isn’t it?” Y/N questioned, signaling the undulating, almost symmetrical symbol that stood out among the others to her.

“Have you seen it recently?” Rowena's posture was observant and concerned, which frightened Y/N more because it meant that the meaning Pam had found on the internet was probably not as far from being true as she would've liked it to be. A brief glance at the small-lettered description proved that fact – The same words: Chaos, corruption and darkness were printed in black smudgy ink. Tarnishing the white paper page just as that smoky gloom had tarnished the skies on that peculiar summer day of last week.

“Is black smoke an omen – like, as a thick dark mass that spreads but doesn’t dissipate like normal smoke as it ascends? And also… a scream… of a woman, that makes it feel like your eardrums are going to burst?” Y/N was plenty aware that she was avoiding all answers and bombarding her aunt with more questions that probably only left her more confused and worried, but she needed to know… and Rowena was the only person she thought could provide her some clarification.

“When you see dark, more high-tightly compact smoke – a black shadow, so to say, it is usually a sign that there is a strong energy mass looming in the space around you. Usually, a non-human entity.” Y/N turned to look at Harry, noting his head had also lifted from the symbols of the Fortunes & Dreams bookpaper that he looked to be fascinated with to listen. She found it cute that he was interested in the symbols, despite the whole thing probably being quite bizarre and unbelieving from his outside perspective. There was no denying that the signs were adding up though… Sure, that non-human entity could have just been a vampire on the hunt. Their energy was similar in some ways to that of demons, but truly, with how close to the hospital was to the magic fair it was no less likely that the black shadow had something to do with Lucinda Wolf’s summoning attempts.

“… And the screaming?”

“That should be a banshee wail.” Oh boy, Y/N already didn’t like the sound of that. “It’s usually heard when someone is about to enter a dangerous situation where it is unlikely they will come out unscarred. Like the serpent symbol, it is a predictor of destruction and often… death.” A heavy silence settled itself in the room after the utterance of that word – how could it not? “ Y/N, you know I’m not usually nosy but I fear I have no choice but to ask - have you been messing with anything you shouldn't? Perhaps with the wrong people or playing one of those foolish games to contact the afterlife?”

Y/N's head shook pressingly. “No. I haven’t. I swear! I know this all sounds worrying, but please... don’t go to my mom about it.” Rowena pursed her lips, like she had already been contemplating on that idea ahead of mention. “I'm old enough to take care of myself, and so is Harry. We are plenty aware it's going to be dangerous to follow these signs, and that they’re most likely connected to dark stuff, but we can’t just look the other way... not when beings are getting hurt and my ability keeps asking me to do something about it as well.” Y/N paused in conversation. “Speaking of… you don’t happen to know any good demonologists, do you?” She asked asudden, hoping that by giving Rowena something to mull over, she would divert her mind away from all the burdensome things said before.

That was the good thing about aunt Rowena...

She was a bit scatty.

“Demonologists…” The woman squinted slightly as she thought it over. “I believe I have a close friend who’s considered an expert in the matter.” She said, leaving the room and wandering around the house in search for something.

Y/N was surprised that it worked, to be honest. Mainly because if it had been her mother in her place, she would’ve unquestionably wanted to know exactly what happened, to whom, where, why and how – and most of all, why was her loving, good-hearted daughter suddenly getting involved in such dark matters of magic. Y/N always had a feeling that her aunt was less restrictive in the sense of believing there is good magic and forbidden magic, so perhaps she didn’t really see anything wrong with demonology work – besides, even if her and Harry were going to have to dab a bit into black magic when it came to banishing Lucinda Wolf’s demon back to hell, it wasn’t like they were suddenly going to turn evil and start craving to open portals and invite demons into the world, was it?

Y/N and Harry followed behind the older witch in silence, pausing at the entrance of what they assumed to be the house’s master bedroom, where Rowena was picking up an object from one of the bedside tables. An old fashioned address book. “He goes by the stage name of Lord Darkmore here in Las Vegas, but his first name is Bellamy - make sure to refer to him as such when you approach him…” She spoke from the interior of the room as she scrambled through the pages of the book in her hand. She was out of their line of sight now, but Y/N could hear her tearing up a clean sheet of paper and scribbling down with a pen before she walked to the door and handed it to them. “Don’t forget to tell him it was Rowena who sent you, otherwise he might take you as imposters and morph you into a pair of three-legged toads.” She smirked at their mortified expressions. “The curse would only last for a couple of hours, of course…”

Their faces went a little open-mouthed, not knowing if she was joking or not, but too afraid to ask further. “Now if you’ll excuse me, my darlings… I would love keep you company, but it’s way past my bedtime...” The witch said, although it wasn’t later than 10pm. “Make yourselves comfortable while I’m gone. If you need anything, for the love of God, don’t stir me awake to ask – help yourselves to whatever you want. There is plenty of food and drinks in the kitchen and different bedding options in your room. Enjoy the outdoor bar, the pool, and the hot tub if you’d like. If you break anything just throw it away, I truly couldn’t care less… in fact, there’s only one crucial thing I ask of you,” She paused, gathering two inquisitive gazes. “Please make use of the recycling bins. It’s good for the environment – Goodnight. See you in the witching hour.”

Before their mouths could form a reply, the double doors of the master bedroom clinked shut and Rowena’s figure was closed off behind them, leaving Y/N and Harry speechlessly staring at one another. “So…” Y/N started invitingly. “Do you want to go play bartender and swim in the pool before we get turned into toads?” She proposed blindly, guessing that despite everything going on, Harry too wouldn’t want to skip the opportunity of enjoying the refreshing, chlorinated water of a private pool on a torrid summers night, apace with a fancy bar drink.

"Are you scared about what my aunt said?"

"Dunno." Harry shrugged as he fiddled with the bow strings of his swimwear. He had kept the t-shirt he was wearing earlier but changed his pants for a pair of yellow swim trunks. They were a little shorter than the most common, ending mid-thigh and rising even higher whenever he sat down – a fact that certainly didn't go unappreciated inside Y/N's head. "I'm okay now... a bit nervous about tomorrow just 'cause we don't know how that's gonna go. I think part of me is scared the demonologist's going to say there's nothing we can do about the demon..."

Y/N has half the heart to scold him for being so pessimistic, but she would be acting like a hypocrite if she pretended that exact same fear hadn't crossed her mind at least half a dozen times already. It makes her curse at herself for being so uninformed over evil spirit matters. Because if she knew how summoning circles worked, maybe both wouldn't be stressing so much about it now. Of course, she had heard about demons and dark magic before, but it had admittedly always been a very shushed topic inside her household... and if she ever did ask about it, the only explanations she got came in very brief descriptions, that were immediately followed by the judging questions: "Why are you asking?", "Why do you wanna know?" – All that to say that her knowledge in the matter is lacking – probably in the same way most people's knowledge in hacking computers and bitcoin is – everyone's heard about it and knows it happens but have little to no idea of how it's done or how it actually works.

"I'm sorry." Harry rumbled deep in his chest, glancing up from his cup with a sympathetic smile.

"What are you saying sorry for silly?" The witch asked amidst a giggle, persuading one out of Harry as well. "Anyway... enough with the bad stuff. How's my concoction ranking so far - Is it good?"

"Mm, it's okay... still not as good as the one before though." He simpered, referring to the frozen strawberry daiquiris Y/N had made roughly 20 minutes prior. They had been dangerously easy to drink despite the amount of booze in them, tasting and looking just like a slushy – served in a fancy martini glass.

The girl scoffed, taking a test sip of her most-recent pineapple gin invention. "That's because you don't like the actual beverages - you just like the sugar in them." She added as she stepped from behind the bar with her drink in hand and walked back to the poolside, so that she could sit down next to Harry on the deck and dip her feet into the ripped water. Like she had been doing before he started making eyes at her and asking if she wanted to go make more drinks.

"Maybe..." He spoke between nibbles on the paper straw. "The pineapple tang in this one is good though. I like the way it feels when it rubs against my tongue – makes it throb but at the same time, I keep wanting to come back for more." Y/N choked on her drink, tittering between coughs that left Harry puzzlingly staring at her. "What?"

God – him and his bloody innuendos! Y/N doesn't have a purity kink but geez, does she want to corrupt his innocent mind a little sometimes...

"Nothing. It's nothing." Y/N shook her head, clearing her throat and carefully placing the cocktail glass on the floor. "Alright, I'm gonna go in." She said, getting up and hastily removing the beach dress she had thrown on over her swimsuit. It was nothing too sensual or revealing – a simple but flattering one piece in the color of deep sea green, with contrast stitching, and a keyhole back. She caught Harry eyeballing her as it came into view, but his eyes fled off as quick as they came in turn for taking another slurp at the drink in his hand.

Y/N chose to enter the pool through the Baja shelf, making use of her cupped hands to spritz her upper body as she gradually descended the steps until her feet were touching the pool floor. The water didn't sting as cold as she had been expecting it to, but it was still chilly enough to provoke goosebumps on her arms and legs in juxtaposition to the pleasant temperature outside. Soon enough she had fully soaked beneath the moon bathed waters, ducking under them only to emerge right next to Harry's swaying legs. The tipsy child in her had been aiming to jump him, but that didn't work, so she rested her chin over one of his knees and started plaguing him to join her instead. "Come swim with me..." She asked, sticking her lip out a little.

His reply came with a nose scrunch. "Mm... the water might be too cold for me, I think."

"It's not! I thought so too but it feels really nice after you're in." She swore, pushing her feet on the wall space between their bodies to propel herself backwards to the center of the pool. "Please?! I feel very lonely here without you!"

"But I'm right here?!" Harry chuckles and sucks on his straw again, before resenting to place his glass down next to hers to get back on his feet. "If you've lied to me about the water, I'm going to be very upset..." He joshes upon noticing his friend's pout had morphed into a triumphant grin as soon as she realized she had managed to persuade him – right as she witnessed him pull his shirt over his head and throw it on one of the sunbeds.

His torso being spangled in permanent ink was a surprise - that managed to take her breath away for a moment or two. Maybe she should've seen it coming since he had practically a full sleeve of tattoos in him... but he had never mentioned having more. Not even that time she asked if she could run her finger over one of the newer ones to feel the little scar bumps. Y/N had always enjoyed doing that to Axl's and Margery's tattoos, but the skin on Harry's arm felt so much softer and reactive – with the hairs in it rising above the surface by their own in response to the gentle brushes of her fingertip. The delicate motifs of his tattoos made sense in his body - flora and fauna themed pieces scattered evenly across the skin. Her favorite had to be the large butterfly on his stomach, or the ferns that spread out like wings across his hips - those were naughty.

"I'm even gonna go for a plunge, just cause I trust you so much." Harry snickered, hollowing out his cheeks and swaying his body before throwing himself into the pool. Y/N let out a petite squawk over the impact, that splashed her face and chest with an array of unlooked-for splurs of water. Once Harry came up from the dive, he looked like a gorgeous merman - with viscous locks clinging to his neck and shoulders and drizzly skin that scintillated under the landscape lighting like it was covered in rhinestones.

At least, until he stood on his feet and his body began to shiver from chilliness.

Then he was back to being her Harry again.

"Cannonballing was not a sensible move." He grumbled between jittery teeth, enclosing himself in his own arms. "Nor was listening to you! It's freezing in here..."

Y/N couldn't not laugh at his grumbling as she swam over to him. "Come here." She called, grabbing his hands, and pulling both of them towards the deeper end of the pool. "Oh! I'm about to be out of my depth, I think..." She whooped as she began to feel her body sinking further – now having to stand on her tippy toes to keep her head above water.

"Hold on to me until we get to the edge then."

Now, Y/N was completely aware that "hold on to me" is not the same thing as "koala bear hug me" but that last option was what she ended up doing anyway. Her hands clasped onto his shoulders as she submerged vertically. Then she kicked up her legs and bundled them around his waist. Harry was visibly taken by surprise by this but he took the intrusion nicely... using his arms to keep the Y/N flush against his chest as he carried her towards the pool's edge.

The air was imbued with laughter and rippling sounds caused by the agitation that broke through the calm water flow. Ultimately, Y/N felt her back graze against the unpolished edge of the pool, letting her know she had reached her ultimate destination. "There you are... totally safe from drowning now." Harry smiled assuredly, clamping one of his hands on the border, while his other still lingered securely around her waist, waiting for her to slide off his lap.

She didn't want to though.

And now her heart was hammering inside her chest at the realization of just how close he was - how sea foamy and dazzling his eyes looked – and how pink, curvy, and entrancing his mouth was.

She could tell she had been staring longingly at his face for a while, but he was staring at hers just the same. Surprisingly, it wasn't weird at all though. It was quite a beautiful moment, being honest – with the sweeping water burbling around their bodies and the starry sky subsisting above their heads.

"Can I kiss you?" Y/N asked, nuzzling Harry's face and combing his damp locks back at the same time, just so they weren't covering his beautiful eyes. His lips parted, like he was about to ask her to repeat that, but the way she was grinning giddily and running her thumbs over his cheeks spoke louder than words. "I've been wanting to for a while... but I get nervous. Can never muster the courage to ask."

"Are you really serious?" He asked incredulous. She nodded. "I-um... wow - this feels like a dream." Harry's eyelids went a little droopy, but the smile in his face was stretching beyond his control. Wider and brighter than Y/N could ever predict it would be able to go. "Like the best dream ever."

"It's not a dream..." She shook her head, presenting him with a big grin that he returned easily. There were splattering water beads still running down his face, and the particular one that her eyes had been keeping track of had just slid over his cupid's bow and evanesced right bellow his upper lip. "I really want to kiss you..." She muttered, feeling rather short-winded as she brought her pointer finger to his pillowy mouth and patted it lightly. "Can I?"

"I want to kiss you so bad... it's just- I've never – um..." Harry enlightened shyly, unthinkingly trying to hide his face like he was embarrassed to admit it. "Will you tell me if I'm not doing it right? I probably won't be like... very good at kissing, I think."

His doubting paired with his eagerness made Y/N giggle a little. "You're silly, did you know that?" She smiled, stroking her thumb across his jaw a couple of times, hoping it would help calm his nerves. She parted her lips to comfort him with a few words of assurance, but at the end decided to save her breath for something better.

Slowly, she bowed forwards just so her lips gently collided with Harry's. Her fingers still cradling his jaw, petting the skin near his ear reassuringly as her mouth pulled back only to come back for more. This was, hands down, the best kiss Y/N had ever experienced - no need tongue, spit-exchanging, lip biting or any of those things that usually make for the most unforgettable kisses. Those things are great, yes, but the frenzied sensations that lodged in Y/N's chest the second her mouth touched Harry's only made it even clearer that anything she could ever do with him would always be beyond question unmatchable. It didn't matter that his kissing ways were simpler than others she'd felt before, his mouth felt so much better. She wanted to have him forever. No one else would ever suffice that craving inside her chest, only Harry.

Once her lips parted from his mouth, it was with a wet gasp. But she didn't move away, she continued to stare at his face and touch it lovingly. His eyes were glossy, his lips had silken and gone ruddier from the contact, what only made her want to kiss them more. "Did you like that?" She probed, just to make sure.

"It was... amazing." The boy admitted, attempting to hide his flushed face against her shoulder. "Can we do it again?"

Y/N chuckled at the question. "Anytime you want to."

"Anytime for tonight or...?"

"Tonight... tomorrow... the day after..." Her lips started travelling up his jaw, dropping the softest kisses in their wake until they held themselves just before his own. "Do you want to kiss me more?"

"Please?" ** Showering before bed was forgotten somewhere in their subconscious - as the two fell asleep on top of the bed linen with their dampish swimsuits still on, limbs pleasantly entwined and the silliest suppressed smiles on both their faces.

**

PART 2

[intp-vs-magi]

Some canon-compliant slice of life headcanons for the Eight Generals/Sindria

Yamlikha and Masrur dated once, seemingly to spite Sharrkan specifically. It lasted about a week before Ja'far told them to stop because it was "disrupting the peace" (Sharrkan wouldn't stop crying to him about it)

Not many people from Sasan moved to Sindria due to cultural and religious customs. So Spartos struggles to find company outside of his overbearing colleagues. He did remain friends with the squad of enbies Sharrkan and Pisti introduced him to.

Sinbad used to wander the streets of Sindria in disguise. Keeping tabs on the general vibe among the citizenry. Sometimes joining the fishermen if he was feeling nostalgic. Until he got too busy for that and resorted to eavesdropping with Zepar's power.

The recipes Ja'far teaches to the palace cooks are the ones Rurumu taught him. It's his way of keeping her memory alive at the heart of Sindria. It’s appreciated by those in the palace that were around when she was.

Sinbad enjoys sparring with the military Generals on occasion and uses it to blow off steam. Or at least he does with Hinahoho, Sharrkan, Spartos and Masrur. Drakon refuses to spar with him or anyone else. Sinbad seems to intuitively understand his reason, but everyone else finds it disappointing.

Pisti taught Aziza to fake cry in order to better garner Sharrkan's sympathy.

Yamlikha installed magical locks on her office door to keep people (Pisti and Sharrkan) from barging in and asking her to heal their random scrapes and bruises when SHE IS NOT A HEALER and there is an ENTIRE MEDICAL WING FOR THAT.

Drakon hoards due to his dragon instincts, but doesn't realize that he's doing it. This usually manifests as him bringing home some shiny nicknack he saw in a shop and immediately forgetting about it. Sahel resells most of it when things start getting crowded. She never mentions it to him because she finds it charming and knows he'd be embarrassed if someone pointed it out. At least they’re stimulating the economy.

Pisti's roc lives in a roost carved into the wall of the canyon that runs behind the palace. It’s name is probably something like Charlene or Margery. She takes it home every year to see it’s mate.

It is widely known that the seeds of the papagoreya fruit must be removed before export or they will leech poison during shipping. In reality this myth is perpetuated by farmers and sindrian merchants in order to keep a monopoly on the fruit. Foreign visitors often brag about getting to taste the fresh fruit “before the seeds are removed.” This conspiracy was Ja'far's idea of course.

Spartos returns home every year to partake in the Pilgrimage Feast. The dedicated party animals among the generals were furious to learn the nature of this holiday. It’s the one day of the year he allows himself to partake in drugs and tomfoolery and he goes and does it without them!

[bluestockingbooks]

Hello booklovers and bluestockings, friends and readers,Kris Nelson, owner of Bluestocking Books, San Diego,

writing to you I have magic and books on my mind. My usual favorite busy Thanksgiving & Shop Small Weekend is coming up while Covid is at its worst. Boooo! Surreal & ironic, during this pandemic our block is more popular than it has been in years; even the Pernicano's front on 5th Avenue got brightly painted and cleaned. Still, my darkest days in 2020 are WAY better than the rise-of-the-internet-giant years. Even though Covid rages on, we are being discovered by new shoppers, both on the street and online, folks who prefer to shop small and keep dollars local.

BsB is operating 11am-6pm daily. Most requests are phoned or emailed in - I, or Mary or Dawn, check each title and see what we have and what we can get. We pull from the shelves & set up pre-orders, ship USPS or run them up to you at our door, or to your car. We keep a 'lil table at the front door between us and the germ-filled world: we greet and grant entry to the fully masked, keeping capacity at 5-6 + us. Once we are full, no one comes in until somebody leaves. Every purchase is tailored to be as safe and convenient as possible. 

I could not do this without Mary & Dawn's hard work helping out - Thanks Again, Ladies!! We 3 are feeling incredibly appreciative to be employed doing what we love most right now - helping people find books. We know and suggest titles for all ages. Especially during the pandemic, hearing a human voice or viewing artwork on the page resonates and connects. Books are full of great examples of human nature and its amazing resilience, patience, and ability to survive. I am now witnessing how learning does not stop. That you all are asking for & purchasing books every day is a most gratifying amazement - I am bursting proud when you call me essential. 

The alternative to Amazon.com, Bookshop.org is the feel-good book news of 2020. They do a secure, easy cart & keep information as does Amazon, but they are not: this owner specifically wanted to support existing independent bookstores. When you order and choose us as "your bookstore" on the site, we are credited with the $ale as if you had called us directly. Seriously - is that not the nicest thing you've heard in a while? I am excited to be a part of it, and blown away by this kindness. The cash infusions could not have come at a better time for bookstores like this one, trying to make expenses while keeping safe during a global pandemic.  

My stability for fall: new blue twinkly lights in the windows and Baby Book Drive. As always we're collecting funds and selling / accepting appropriate books for donation to a beloved local effort: the UCSD High-Risk Infant Follow-Up Program, via Reach Out and Read. Babies are given a book from doctor at their check-ups while parents learn that the cuddling up to read stimulates brain growth, helping baby learn to interact. One doctor who works with ROAR shared with us that babies are talking more on the very next visit after receiving a book(!) Anyone can help change a life with a book costing from $4.99-$16.99. We have free IBD & other schwag for supporters - see the website for details. Seeing people contribute to our big box is a big sweetness gut-punch every time. 

See how I am surrounded by magic and hope here in the bookshop, even though it's a global quarantine?!? People shopping us even though it's Covid, Bookshop.org creating payback for indie bookstores, strangers supplying babies & parents (who really need it!) with a book and some help, and most hopeful of all - your patronage here. I care for the books in this space, but YOU are the key ingredient to a delightful bookstore. Your curious minds wanting the latest books for yourselves and friends, for the babies and kids in your lives, and making that special effort to call here instead of ordering it on Amazon or B&N - this is amazing and sustaining me in every way, every day. Your social shopping selves, happily masked and as considerate of our health as much as your own, exclaiming as you see (the weird and wonderful array of mostly used & some new) books in person - it makes keeping the space make sense again.

THANK YOU ALL FOR YOUR PATRONAGE...we are all gonna get through this! 

I am reminded of the Velveteen Rabbit (c1922 by Margery Williams)... after many years of being loved as a sawdust-stuffed toy, sometimes forgotten and eventually a little threadbare, he was always a favorite. Then things did not make sense, he couldn't fit in, and then all he ever knew was gone, nothing would be the same again. Yet he found he could move - he twitched and reached out, and he was alive, his heart began beating. He hopped and darted into a new life that wasn't the same, nor did it need to be.  Okey this 2 tons o'books ain't hopping anywhere, but my heart beats inside of me today for the future bookstore. I work for BsB to have what every reader wants, a next chapter. You all are the heroes in the epic book-romance surrounding me - thanks for making Bluestocking Books a part of your story    Hope to help you all soon with your next read, gift or project. Best Holiday Wishes from me and the staff, our book-elves, helper-friends, and the benevolent bookshop ghosts. Happiness, Wellness, Chances to Notice the simple wonderful things, and Great Reading to You! -Kris

Bluestocking Books / (619) 296-1424 | info@bluestockingbooks.combluestockingbooks.comPlease add us to your email address book for best service!

[radioactivepeasant]

Fic Prompts: Strange Magic Monday

"Look, it's just until the end of the week. Uncle Algy and his judgy, judgy sisters leave on Saturday."

Marianne reached up to straighten Bog's collar without really thinking about it.

"As much fun as it's been to shock the snobs by behaving like normal people, we're going to have to make nice with them all at least once, before they start getting any ideas about having Roland stage some kind of intervention."

Bog simply raised one eyebrow and gently removed Marianne's fingers from his collar before she could wrinkle it unduly.

"You say that like I'm the one who's going to have trouble with manners," he scoffed. "You're the one who called the museum curator a "blundering flamingo" while stealing the olive out of her martini."

Marianne chuckled, and didn't look the slightest bit repentant. "Cousin Letty has had that coming for years. I just did what everyone else wishes they could do."

It took some considerable effort on Bog's part to keep from smiling at that. This was serious, after all. For the next five days, he was going to have to convince Marianne's nosy relatives that not only were they in love, they were actually engaged. And while he didn't think he'd have to work too hard to pretend he was in love (unless he heard otherwise from Marianne, he refused to let himself think of it as anything but pretending), he wasn't sure how they were going to pull off being an allegedly engaged couple.

"Should we...go over the story again? To make sure we're consistent?" Marianne asked suddenly.

She was nervous, too. What if Uncle Algy and Aunts Cordelia and Margery saw right through it?

"Right, right. And we're not volunteering all the details right away, yeah?" Bog nodded and tried not to sound flustered.

"Yeah. We don't want it to sound rehearsed."

The story that they'd concocted held just enough truth to hopefully help them sell it. The plan was to tell them that she and Bog had met at his family's antique store (which was more or less true if one ignored the part where Dawn almost broke in to save what she thought was a cat, and Bog almost called the police on them.) A shared interest in quirky heirlooms, old weapons, and tattoos would supposedly have been what they bonded over, rather than experience with heartbreak and cancelled weddings. Any further details could be improvised on the fly, as long as they backed each other up and remembered their story.

Bog glanced over Marianne's shoulder and frowned suddenly.

"Isn't that the mangy stray that's been hanging around your friend's place?" he asked, pointing.

A longhaired animal that was presumably a cat was trotting down the stairs leading into the shop's office. In its mouth was a round glass vial of some kind, decorated with iron hearts.

Marianne stiffened. "Is that...?"

"Quick!" Bog yelped, "Catch it! Don't let it get away!"

The impish cat made a strangely smug noise, then hopped up onto the counter and out an open window.

"Ohh..." Bog whispered, "This...this can't be good."

[the-mini-muse]

Robbaery Prompt

I didn’t know I needed more Margery working at flower shop and Robb at some sort of law enforcement until I thought his up: 

Once Upon a Time/GOT AU- Cersei is still the evil queen and she brings everyone to the Land Without Magic where everyone is unhappy and has no memories of their past. Margaery works for her family’s flower shop Highgarden and Robb works with his father at the Sheriff’s office. 

See robbaery tag for me for more prompts

[fairyfriend578348795]

A Heart Reassembled.

By DJ4K. 

This story contains themes of biphobia.

Emily had something important to tell her girlfriend Margery. But Margery didn’t seem to take it well. “What do you mean your bisexual? How could you be bi if your dating a girl? Are you breaking up with me?” 

“No, I just thought you should know.”

“But how can you be lesbien and bi at the same time?” 

“I’m not gay I’m bi.”

Margery patted Emily on the shoulder. “It’s ok we’ll get over this together.”

Emily was shocked. “There’s nothing to get over, I just wanted you to know.” 

Margery said in a dismissive tone. “Come on you know there’s no such thing as bisexual.”

Emily couldn’t believe what she was hearing. The girl, who she thought was so sweet, saying such hurtful things. “If you can’t accept who I am than… Than I can’t be your girlfriend anymore!” 

Emily ran out of the house sobbing all the way to her parent’s home. She hadn't officially moved out yet so most of her stuff was still there. 

She ran to her room and slammed the door behind her. In times of great stress there was something that often made her feel better, online shopping. It wasn’t healthy and she often spent more than she meant to but she told herself she deserved it. 

She got a Cardcaptor Sakura t-shirt, a princess themed water bottle, a princess Marco figure and many other things. But before she clicked purchase she stopped herself. She removed each item one by one and went looking for something more reasonable. 

On a whim she typed bi pride into the search bar. She found a plane black t shirt with the pink purple and blue flag. Below the flag in matching colors were the words “be yourself.” She absolutely loved the overpriced shirt and it would be here just in time for the pride parade. She bought it immediately. 

A month later Emily had her shirt and the parade was about to start. She put on her new shirt and peard it with a rainbow skirt. She also had purple eyeliner that matched the bi flag. Emily felt just like she had her own magical girl transformation. 

At the parade grounds the march was about to start. Emily was more hyped than she was for the next season of She-ra. But something wasn’t right, some people were nice to her but more saw her in a different light, they tried to avoid her.

This day was supposed to be about acceptance but Emily didn’t feel that way at all. She heard people say things like, “indecisive,” “privileged,” and “slut.” One person said right to her face. “I don’t think you belong here.” 

Emily couldn’t understand how a place with so many rainbows could make her so sad. She ran like she had done many times before. In a cold alleyway she sat hugging her knees  well mascara ran down her face. This was worse than the heartbreak from not too long ago. From two pieces to forty pieces her heart broke and it just kept shattering. There seemed to be no ware for people like her in this world. But even on the darkest nights the sun is still there, it just hasn’t risen yet. In Emily’s darkest moment that was when her sunshine came over the horizon. 

“Are you ok?” 

Emily looked up. The soft voice came from a handsome young person wearing an ally flag shirt. Emily stood up with her arms crossed over her shirt. “I'm sorry, I don’t want to ruin this day for anyone.” 

“Don’t be sorry. You know what cheers me up when I’m sad?” He took Emily to an ice cream shop, they were serving rainbow sherbet in celebration of pride. He bought some for her and it was sweet as honey on her tongue. 

Emily took the spoon from her mouth, she started to sniffle. “Why are you doing this? We don’t even know each others names.”

“Well will have to change that, I’m Jacob, what's your name?” 

“Emily…” 

“Now that you’ve got some ice cream in you can you tell me what was bothering you?”

“It’s just… I feel like I’ve done something that made everyone upset. I thought they would like it as much as I do but…” 

 “Oh, was it because of your shirt?” Asked Jacob. Emily crossed her arms in front of her shirt again and looked away in shame. “No don’t do that, it looks good on you. There’s no shame in being who you are. If they don’t like it then their the ones with the problem not you.”

Emily was starting to feel a lot better. “Do you always give iced cream to crying alley people?” 

“Don’t question the healing power of iced cream.” They both laughed. This was the beginning of their romance. 

They’re relationship progressed slowly. Most of their dates were walks in the park. They would talk about anime, movies and whatever else they wanted. They would hold hands the whole time and at the end of the day they would feed the ducks. Emily wore her pride shirt every chance she got. If ever someone gave her a dirty look Jacob would give her hand a little squeeze and the hate directed towards her seemed like nothing. 

One night, nearly a year since they met, the two lovers sat on the couch and watched Cute High Earth Defence Club Love. Jacob baked cookies for the two of them. Emily sighed, leaned Jacob and cuddled up to him. Her favorite genre, her favorite shirt, her favorite food and her favorite person Emily couldn’t ask for more. 

[redandpointy]

How do you think Kalec and Jaina would spend love is in the air together

"Get yer chocolates and yer roses! Step right up folks! You there! You look like you have a sweetheart at home! Strapping young adventurer like yourself! You! You have a sweetie? I knew it! You have a gift for this most important spending holiday? You don't! Well friend, I have got your back. Step right up! Roses and delectable sweets to charm any significant other! Sparkly gems? We got em! The fragrances and treats to delight the senses!"

The goblin leaned down on his box and grinned conspiratorially. "And for those spicer evenings, Northrend's finest assortment of captivating lingerie!" He winked and one of the gnome girls in the crow tittered, her cheeks turning bright pink. Standing up the goblin salesman addressed the crowd. "Buy it for yourself! Buy it for your sweetie! We've got it all!"

The goblins behind him wearing, inexplicably, a diaper and an enchanted pair of wings, sighed. One threw a small rocket into the air where it burst into the shape of a heart. The other, rolling his eyes, shot the fake arrow from his bow. As the heart-tipped arrow was tethered to the bow, it didn't shoot very far. Not that it had much power behind the pull. The short lived flight was as anemic as the goblin's enthusiasm for peddling the almost uniformly colored wares.

"You! Sir! You look like you have a loved one!"

It took Kalec a moment to realize the goblin salesman was speaking to him. Kalec blinked at the broad, gold-capped smile.

"Handsome lad like yourself, I bet you have to beat 'em off with a stick!" The goblin said, chuckling for some reason. It had to be some sort of idiom Kalec didn't understand. Perhaps the joke didn't translate into common well.

"Er-"

"Archmage Kalec is dating Lady Proudmoore," one of the girls perusing the goblin's wares spoke up. She was one of his students, Margery Crawford.

"Ohh, well then! He certainly should have only the very best gift for the grand magus!" The goblin salesman said, snapping his fingers.

A third assistant seemed to materialize at his side. This goblin was dressed in an extremely revealing pink dress. She had a box of chocolates in one hand, her arm draped with necklaces and bracelets of obviously varying quality, each with a price tag. In her other arm she had a bouquet of roses and a flimsy kerchief on a hanger.

"After all, the Lady has been so very kind in letting us set up this little popup boutique!" He took the box of chocolates form the assistant who reached back and produced another handful of gem-encrusted jewelry.   The goblin wagged his eyebrows at Kalec. "Something for her," he said, the smile a glinting leer.

"And maybe a little somethin' for you," the goblin woman said, winking saucily as she brought the kerchief to drape over her front. The sheer pink fabric concealed nothing.

Which... was perhaps the point since Kalec belatedly realized it wasn't a silk scarf after all.

"Uh-"

"You better have something," Margery said, hands on her hips. Beside her, her friends nodded in extreme, unified, female disapproval.

"My Da' forgot one year," a dwarf girl Kalec didn't know said. "He slept on the couch for weeks. She never lets him forget."

The others nodded in apparent agreement with the punishment.

"It's my dads' anniversary so papa Ben won't ever forget," another boy from class said. "Light help him if he forgets that."

"So what'll it be? Some pretty gems? Some flowers? Chocolates? All of the above?" The Goblin shopkeeper said, sliding into view between Kalec and the teens.

"I think I will have to make appropriate plans," Kalec said, frowning thoughtfully. "Good day." He turned, leaving the sputtering goblin in his wake.

Kalec considered his options. Dead flowers seemed silly on top of an already apparently arbitrary and nonsensical holiday. When had this become a holiday anyway? Shaking his head, Kalec went in the direction of the sweet shop to acquire sweets he knew Jaina liked. Kalec liked them too, but he was apparently supposed to give Jaina something she liked.

Was she supposed to give him something too? Putting the thought aside, Kalec entered the sweetly smelling mouth of utter hell.

Packages flew through the air as they were assembled rapidfire by a pair of mages. Orders were being called out and filled. Gold exchanged hands. Sugar, butter and flour were blended with chocolates. Some were blended with rum or other spirits. The confectioners and bakers in the back of the shop were partaking from their own stock of alcohol as they worked at a fever pitch.

Stunned by the sensory onslaught, Kalec found himself shuffled into a steadily moving but very long line.

This holiday was madness.

Finally Kalec was at the front. A very harried high elf leaned against the counter. "Please tell me you were a pre-order," she said before she looked up.

"Er- No?"

The woman's eyes closed in agony and Kalec was quite concerned before she straightened with a fixed smile and a slightly magic look in her eye. "What would you like? Hopefully we have some in stock or you'll need to return later. Or try another shop. Or perhaps place an order for next year's holiday so it won't be forgotten in the future. How might I help?" The corner of her mouth ticked.

Kalec requested some of Jaina's favorites; Chocolate caramels with sea-salt, chocolate covered cherries and some chocolate covered pretzels. The cherries were backordered so Kalec left with the other two items. They were all placed in an ornate, pink, heart-shaped box before Kalec could ask why. Kalec paid and accepted the box and was quickly shuffled out of line with a loud "NEXT!"

Kalec was practically shoved out into the street by the press of bodies inside. Outside, the line to get into the store was now winding down the street. The people in line looked covetously at his box and Kalec held it a bit closer then hurried off.

Sheer insanity.

Kalec beat a hasty retreat then decided that perhaps the treats were best left at home. He made a short detour and stowed his gift in the cold box before snooping around Jaina's workbench.

Dead plants were a silly idea. If the purpose was to give a gift (and why would another be required so shortly after a holiday entirely about giving gifts?!) then he'd give Jaina something she'd like. She might like flowers? They appeared traditional. Maybe he would give her a living plant? Kalec considered his options then, checking the clock, decided to brave the streets again and acquire one or two things before Jaina returned home.

Then maybe she could give him some context.

Three shops later and it appeared as though every single rose in the entire city had been sacrificed on the altar of this bizarre goblin holiday everyone appeared to celebrate. However Kuhuine had suggested that he might have better luck with a nursery in Kalimdor or the Eastern kingdoms and failing that finding something and digging it up.

Kalec left her shop and, feeling determined to do this odd holiday right, placed an order to be delivered to his home. Then he left Dalaran entirely.

It took three hours to find what he was looking for. Then, because he was in the area, he reinforced the wards around Azsuna and stayed for a quick chat with the dragons there. The whelps were a delight as always and his cargo turned into an impromptu botany lesson before he had to leave again.

Lifting the crate by the door with a quick levitation, Kalec brought it inside. He decided to set the crate down in the workshop and then, after some thought, he conjured a garish pink bow. It looked odd on the rough wood, but he'd not seen wrapping as in Winter Veil - but there had been plenty of garish pink bows.

Kalec set the little flower down on the kitchen table by the window then went about making dinner.

Jaina arrived home after a long day. She set her staff aside and rolled her shoulders. Slipping out of her shoes she summoned her slippers. The house smelled wonderful.

"I'm home!" she called out, heading for the kitchen.

"In here," Kalec called. He met her at the kitchen doorway with a hug and a kiss. Jaina sighed and relaxed against his chest. "Long day?" he asked.

Jaina grunted an answer. "Better now." She squeezed her arms around his waist. "How was your day?"

"Interesting. I apologize for the hasty nature of my gifting, but I was unaware of the holiday until earlier."

Jaina looked up, confused. Holiday? Kalec was gently taking her elbow and escorting her to the kitchen table. She was seated in her usual chair - and there was a rush of warmth as she realized she had a usual chair and so did he - and a plant was placed before her.

It was captivating. Jaina had never seen one before outside of some sketches in books. The crude renderings of charcoal and pencil did not do the plant justice.

The plant's stem and the base of the leaves were the deep purple of twilight. The edges faded into a soft off-white color. The center of the flower was the same deep purple but the leaves... The leavers were each a delicate, translucent, glowing blue. Small sparkles rose from the flower then faded from view, an intricate exchange of magic between the flower and the ambient aether on Azeroth.

"Is- Kalec is that a Starlight rose?"

He nodded, grinning. "I'm supposed to give you roses, but please do not be offended when I say I thought gifting a dead plan seemed... silly? However apparently all the roses in Azeroth have been claimed for bouquets so I couldn't even get you red one. But then I remembered these and I thought you might think it was just as pretty-"]

"Kalec, there hasn't been one of these in Dalaran in centuries. The last blooms were cultivated by the Highborne mages in Darnassus and they died." Jaina reached out to touch the flower but stopped herself. "I've never seen one. Antonidas had drawings in his alchemy books."

Kalec sat across from her. "You're kidding. You're not kidding."

Jaina looked up from the impossibly beautiful flower. "The blue flight cultivates these?"

He shrugged. "We have a few in, uh, well the equivalent would be window gardens? Along with dreamleaf and aetheril and other such plants. We're not natural gardeners like the greens are. But this one I just found. They're not very difficult to find if you know the right sort of spell."

Jaina set both hands on the table. "You- You know where to find these in the wild."

"Jaina, they're all over suramar. You can find them in some places in Azsuna, too." He tilted his head in question.

Jaina rubbed her hands over her face then parted her fingers so she could watch the gentle shimmer and glow of the plant.

"By your reaction I take it this is like the leywater issue."

"This is exactly like the leywater issue," she said.

Kalec breathed out, relaxing. He smiled. "Well that's alright then. I was afraid I'd botched the holiday."

Jaina shook her head and reached out to take his hand. "Love, what holiday?"

Kalec's eyebrows rose. "The odd goblin one. It makes no sense but the whole planet is apparently mad for it."

"The gobli- Oh!"

Kalec smiled. He rose and retrieved a pink, heart-shaped box. "It seemed that chocolates and flowers were key components as well as some gift of some sort? Apparently failure to remember the holiday results in sleeping on the couch and as nice as the new couch is, I much before bed."

Jaina opened the box and was delighted to find some of her favorites.

Kalec continued to explain as he took his seat again. "I thought you might like those better than the chocolates the goblins were selling. And a live plant. It just needs a little bit of water, a little bit of sun and access to a lot of mana in the aether and it should be fine. Oh, and I got you that new Aetheric monitor you wanted."

Jaina blinked then grinned. "You what?"

Kalec smiled back. "I thought you'd like it better than some of the other things they were telling me I should get."

Jaina grinned harder. Her cheeks hurt. Laughter bubbled up but she held it down, putting a hand over her mouth. Her beloved was utterly adorable and thoughtful and clearly had no idea what was actually going on, but was gamely trying to please her. His bright smile faltered and she grabbed for his hands, tugging him out of his seat as she rose. She leaned up on her toes and kissed him properly, one arm around his waist the other holding the side of his head.

"I did it right?" he asked.

A giggle escaped anyway as his expression made her heart do little flying loops. "Love, this is a wonderful surprise and I am very thankful and very touched. I love the gifts. These are the best gifts I've ever gotten for this holiday."

"I hear a 'but' coming," he said, concerned but not so very upset she thought.

Jaina laughed and nodded. She shook her head and sighed. "The goblins commercialized a small holiday that started, oh, I don't even know. In one of the human kingdoms. Some say Arathor even." She held his upper arms and tried to look serious, fighting the impish smile for now. "There's too much snow to go out most days and after Winter Veil there isn't much to do... Except each other." She shrugged a shoulder. "It's a holiday about sex because people were bored and cooped up in their homes. The goblins go ahole of it and, well, sex sells."

Kalec blinked. "This is a courting ritual?"

"No. Well. It can be." She squeezed his arms. "But the point is, it's not a big deal like  Winter Veil is. I'd completely forgotten what day it was. And the actual holiday isn't until tomorrow anyway." She leaned up and kissed him. "Thank you. This is a wonderful and thoughtful surprise. You didn't miss something important because I've never really deemed this important." She wrapped her arms around his waist. "I'm still gonna eat those chocolates."

Kalec chuckled and stroked his fingers through her hair. "I feel a bit embarrassed."

"Don't," she said, squeezing him close. "I should have mentioned something. That's my fault." She looked up at him. "You really got me an Aetheric monitor, too?"

"It's in the lab." A timer chimed and she reluctantly let him go to handle dinner. "We can uncrate it after dinner," Kalec said.

"We can," Jaina said. She waited until he'd removed the roast then backed him up against the counter. "Or we can indulge in some of the other traditional holiday activities."

It took him half a second, but Kalec caught on quickly now he had a better idea of what was going on. "I thought you didn't celebrate this holiday."

She  bit her lower lip as she smiled up at him. "You've done a remarkable job of convincing me otherwise."

Kalec looked at the roast then back at Jaina. "Dinner can wait?"

Jaina cast a stasis spell over the roast. "Dinner can wait."

[abraidoffrostandfelt]

Happy 144th birthday, Harry Houdini!!!

***This is my annual little birthday tribute to HH….and since words are what i have to give these are a few Houdini themed poems i enjoyed writing during this past year…title links lead to audio, if you would prefer listen to them rather than read***

(poems are mine and read by me––and the pictures of Harry are details of images from the truly awesome Taschen Magic book, and the ones with me are from a few key HH related experiences from this past year)  

a slightly unreliable narrator, writing love letters to Houdini

the story goes that there were many letters of love left in his possession and i do not know if they were answered, with words or with actions if they were left as ink and whispers, echoing unresponsive though they were kept, saved and stashed, these secrets wrapped in envelopes didn’t Harry once escape from an envelope? he probably did, though he thought these in safe security a legacy, a written competition left and lost and found by his wife when he died sweet paper, sweet envy the typeset ink and handwriting left hanging, left to anger, left to Bess and the story says she took them, freed them from Harry’s holdings, handed them back from her small hands into those of their writers’, still folded feisty and fierce, she leaves them forgotten and finds herself still well versed in the code of secrets kept and quiet, she continues, purses her lips and perseveres though i wish she had left them to history, left them sealed up, tied up, boxed up so they could surface up the headlines reading “historical emotions escape… into a new book” such a clever compiling so many Houdini letters survived and i need to read between the lines, between the magic half could be his storied notes to Bess, short and saved with their syrupy taste the other half, the secret rest, the bits bitter with forgottenness now brought back little treasures, these little fantasies of fan letters, or more flurries of what someone once felt needed to be said and he saved away, to read again another day if only he had scrapbooked them labeled and left “the many escapes of Houdini’s heart” admirers out of audiences, out of crowds looking up gasps in dark velvet seated theatres, the grasp of a seance hand, seeking something softer than truth …oh, Harry, you were, you are–uncontained… …always i will say ‘my magic man’ and mean you… …only you see through me, your sharp eyes upon me, and now before only you i am silent and shy… …i am aflutter over our kiss under the cameras you know where to find me if you want acting practice… …this is my magic and you cannot have it, though i will show you a little, some soulful sharing time to time… …fuck off, Harry, i damn well know you’re married and i can get out, and for that matter off without your help, still sometimes lend a hand… …my dearest Harry, if you should find yourself missing any keys, i found a few around the shop, have secreted them away upon my person so next time you need a trick you can play at finding them, we miss you at Martinkas… …dear Mr. Houdini, i tried to hold my breath along with you and got dizzy, then i thought you had drowned, and breathed too fast and when i passed out i dreamed of you and you were lovely both ways… oh Harry, dear Harry, please Harry, answer Harry, listen Harry, then a long pause all silence, all secrets these things never written, never read, never spoken not quite these remember what i told you back when i was truth telling some things were, though they were all disappeared

by, earthboundpixie

a collection of tiny lies

“A magic performance consists of a collection of tiny lies, in words and deeds, that are stacked and arranged ingeniously…” -Jim Steinmeyer (designer of magical illusions)

*you will have to guess the card that was in my hand–the clue is it all happened fast, so answer speak quickly

*our senses say that magic breaks the rules, and that is wrong–magic is made by knowing all the rules, by knowing them so well you can move between them

*i never have a good enough explanation for the keys–he thought they were Houdini’s, when they are no more than my own–though i would give them to Houdini, if he asked me–i wonder if anyone ever denied him keys

*yes, i so want to meet you–yes, we can both be in the cemetery–find me out of the blue, under the blue of my sun-umbrella, call me the dead magician’s wife and somehow i am in your arms–a bit like a fairy tale, i might have imagined it all–sometimes real life is that way, is strange, is simple, is somewhere between not and just what you expected

*magicians and historians talking, these people in the know, who know all the other people in the know–who i find myself here with, as just me, not in anything, writing away wistful poetry about Houdini

*aren’t female escape artists just called spiritualists? i am too dizzy from old pictures to think about this–so many spirits made manifest, called into existence through escapes–great lengths of ropes, the locks faked–and who did leave the ruler after all? They are all dead and silent, and in life magicians don’t talk outside the trade–Margery was too good to stay at center stage, might have been her, might have been Harry, though Collins would never say

*secrets are strong in magic making–it is about careful sharing and control and an audience’s willingness not to know–an agreement, a collusion, a choice to watch, to be tricked into experiencing the illusion–and out of context it is a lovely glass bowl, clear down to the spells it held, still holds–i look from the picture of Bess holding it performing, to it sitting on the table near me all casual–an artifact, not meant to be seen so close–and i will not tell anyone what is visible, and it will hold its spark still

*the gate should have been closed, should have been locked, and was not–we should have been alone–this feels like sacred sightseeing, even though we are not–stark sun, no trees, no tricks, lots of scattered stones and playing cards, previously rain soaked–the magician just below, we stay close, share wonders

*and i wonder, am i obsessed with magic? are you obsessed with magic? was Houdini? he likely was–historical accounts suggest he thought of little else–i’ve read it from more than one source, sounding believable–he needed to keep them guessing, maintain the tension, keep them saying wow

*wow–this key was in his mouth, soldered special, and every person i tell laughs liking to think that i must have licked it���though i didn’t–I simply held its weight, its artistry, its place in certain escapes all for a moment close to me, in my hand, then replaced

*a history book worth of handcuffs and keys, all tucked away into drawers so neatly, and no one is wearing them, and everyone is talking about them–and the room spins, so they ask if i would like to see more pictures of Harry–and i sit on a couch next to his last finished book, inscribed in his hand, once held in his hands–and all of our hands here turning through pages–letters and programs and tickets, oh my

*and no one was performing, though i could have gone on listening as if it were a show–i am drunk on stories, not the beer, i only had one beer and it was light, nothing like the champagne Bess would have had–how did we get here? paths crossing at the magician, a gateway book taken off the shelf in childhood, my sacrilegious stealing of a picture from a page in a library–never before, never since, amicably confessed–and i have that scrap still, Harry in chains and lifesavers, wrists held just like this, so very serious–i liked him in the circles, i liked that he got out of them

*and i have to get out of there, life outside the fairy tale remembers me–and even surrounded in new stories of favorite history, after hours, i am sleepy–and here Metamorphosis means turning into another person, and i am not a magician so maybe i will become a pumpkin, and no one there wants that–so they must leave all this and bring me home, before anything gets later, draws nearer, becomes other–no pumpkins or shattering shoes

*though the world is wrapped up in rules, and there are no keys, no lock picks, no slip wrist tricks, only chances and choices, that sometimes appear and disappear, and change, the truth rearranged into a collection of memories

by, earthboundpixie

shouting from rooftops that i wore Houdini’s handcuffs, though quietly, in handwriting, in imagination or just the events of April 6th

that time your handcuffs were an invitation that i got to escape from and they fit easy and right and there was so much in my mind imagining myself back into otherness –other year, other self, other words that i don’t have a place to say, that i don’t have an occasion to say, that i would not say, most likely, maybe hold me, Harry, just like this, unapologetic like i hold you in words though metal is noisier, is heavier, and there is weakness in the workings because there is a hinge hidden, hiding and i know it, the trick, the flip into freely un-metaled wrists, no key necessary though i still want as many as i can find and i know that you do too collecting keys that will never be used and the quick count- one, two, a clap to replace the three the speedy change, that releases me from the stage and gives you back to the light, pitch practice perfect you turn to show the switched selves, sealed and set inside and no matter how many times you open the box there is no surprise exactly as you like it, exactly as rehearsed i know all your words, as well as i know my own as well as i create a confluence between these leaps that are not quite mine to take and yet there is an ease, an easiness that exists a bit like a tricked release, wrists free before anyone thinks to see the mechanics, the makings, the way the metal melted the impossible in your hands, your arms held heavily and then empty of all intricacy it is that sudden contrast, that leaves you looking lovely and unadorned the silver falling off you, white washed shirtsleeves the gleam of success, you wear that part so well so much that the posters can make you forget those years spent fighting for this, hungry for this those days of being king of cards and cuffs in voice alone, not yet in print unspeakable for you always were, and are, and go on to be you who are in the box and out, always out with water, with sweat, the cards falling like water between your hands, the metal between my hands the connection between worlds just using other words that in this distance are safe, click, fall and escape

by, earthboundpixie

[books-and-studyblr]

62-70 Days of Productivity

Fingers crossed I actually remember everything that happened...

Class and the Writing Center on Thursday, and an attempt to get some sleep. I took the night off and then had work Friday morning. Left from work to head to the gym with my friend, and then we hung out at her apartment until it was time to pick up another friend and go grab some dinner. Saturday was spent with the three of us hanging out at a coffee shop doing work, with a brief intermission to a Boston Market to grab food before we headed back to work. Sunday, I was called in after closing to help with set-up, and didn’t get out of the store until 9:15.

I had shipment the next morning, so I was in from 6-12. That was followed by more work (mainly me desperately trying to understand Hegel and respond) and my second shift at the Writing Center. I got a lot of my work for the week done while I sat through my shift, and went home feeling pretty good. Got to sleep in Tuesday, but then didn’t get home until 1 AM because the sorority that I advise had a meeting go incredibly late. I then woke up at 6 for work that went until 1:30, and had night class again, meaning I didn’t leave campus until 9. Yesterday, I not only had shipment at 6 again, but the majority of my reading still to do, since my hours meant I didn’t get time to do anything other than eat and sleep. I got home, took a brief nap, showered, and magically finished all my reading before my shift at the Writing Center. I finally got to sleep in a little this morning, and, after meeting with a professor and doing some thesis work, spent the day with friends, visiting a local museum and discovering the most adorable bookshop (which is near my apartment - that may be a bad thing). I came home, made some dinner, and then finished the de Saussure reading for Tuesday and the first 10 pages of Margery Kempe (in Middle English, no less!).

Tomorrow, I plan to knock out the reading for War and Film from Lawrence and Said, another 10 pages of Margery, and notes on de Saussure. I have work again Sunday night (and another shipment shift on Monday) so fingers crossed I don’t disappear again.

[treatian]

The Chronicles of the Dark One: Fathers and Sons

Chapter 49: Romantic Interlude

"You're the boy," she concluded immediately in a breathy voice upon hearing the last of his tale. "Peter Pan is your father."

He nodded in acknowledgment, happy that he didn't have to say the actual words this time.

"He gave a doll to me just before he left, one of corn husk and a jacket of blue cloth, my one and only toy growing up. It was the only thing he ever gave me out of kindness. I called it Peter Pan, and when he left me behind…he kept the name."

"Oh, Rumple…" she signed in pity, but before he could tell her that her pity was wasted, he found her arms turning his body before she was wrapped up around him. She pressed herself close to him in a tight embrace that he couldn't escape if he'd wanted to. And he did not want to escape it. There had already been so much love in his life that he'd been denied; first his mother, then his father, Milah and Margery and Cora…he needed this. He needed the love that she offered and gave willingly. So, he returned the favor; he put his arms around her and let his head fall against her own, and held on for dear life as the storm inside of him passed.

"You're a hero," he finally heard her whisper in his ear. "You saved your family, and me, from terrible fates. You are a beautiful, courageous man with a heart of true gold, and someday you'll wake up to find that you can have a happy ending! That you do have one!"

He was touched by her words, so much so that he felt tears begin to pool in his eyes. He wanted to weep at what she gave back to him when others had simply taken. Years ago, he might not have believed what she said. Hell, days ago, he might not have believed what she said! But now, he believed it at the same time that he knew she was wrong. He hadn't saved his family and her…he'd saved his family. She was just as much his family as Bae and Henry because the only happy ending he saw in his future involved her. She had to know that.

"I want that with you," he pointed out in a whisper as he pulled away from her.

He watched as a smile touched her face, and she looked him over. "Then you'll have it."

This time the smile spread over his own face. Good. That was all he wanted from his frighteningly perceptive beauty. "There are some days I think you know me better than I know myself…" he admitted to her quietly. "And most of those days, I can't bring myself to care."

"I'll keep all your secrets until the day I die," she swore unprompted, letting him know that she understood the fear better than he'd anticipated.

"They're far safer with you than anyone else I've ever known." Then he picked his head up and laid a delicate kiss on her forehead. There were no words to describe how much he loved this woman before him, how much joy he took from having her there, having her move closer to him in his tales of woe rather than farther away. And hearing that she'd keep what he told her private when that was all he'd ever longed for, even if he'd never asked…it was magical.

He was glad he'd brought her to the shop today, glad that he'd told her about Pan and about his past. She might have been the only one in Storybrooke, all the world, who knew his true parentage, and he didn't doubt that his secret was kept safely guarded with her for even a second.

The world was pressing in on them. They could both feel it as they held each other and stared appreciatively into the other's eyes. He could have held on to her forever, but there were things that needed to be done.

"You need to work on the cure for David," she insisted, reaching up to draw her hand over his cheek. "Is there anything I can get for you?"

He shook his head. "Silence," he answered, unafraid that she'd take that the wrong way. "No more stories."

She nodded. "I understand. Thank you for telling me," she whispered before stepping forward and kissing him lightly. He returned that kiss and held on a little too long before he finally let her break it. "Okay," she whispered. "You need to work." He nodded. "I'm going to be right here beside you." He nodded again and then found the courage to release her.

He turned back to the table, and she did not stay "right beside him" in any literal sense. When she wandered away from him, her journey took her into the front room, and a few moments later, she returned with a book in her hand. She kicked her shoes off and sat down on the cot as she began to read it, and he got down to his work.

It wasn't difficult. Finding an antidote meant countering the poison. When he'd done his experiments on the poison derived from his body, he'd learned much about it. The most prominent thing he'd discovered was that Hook had mixed the diluted poison with something non-magical so that it would affect him beyond the border of Storybrooke. But the rest of the poison had been magical. It sought out magic, sought to weaken and then destroy it before going after the rest of the body. Given the fact that David was a non-magical being then the entire situation grew a lot easier.

Anyone who was magical would want to hold on to their magic. David had none to hold onto in the first place, and therefore there was nothing to work around or destroy. Whatever he came up with would be a simple search and destroy. Find the magic in his veins and destroy it all.

First on the list was countering its spread. He had to slow the poison to the point that it stopped its progress. Fortunately, he still had the squid ink that he'd harvested in Neverland. It wasn't safe to be injected in this form, of course, but once it was diluted and drunk, it would paralyze the magic in his skin. Then, once he had it frozen, he needed something to attack the magic until it no longer existed. He had just the thing. A few drops of liquified pollen from a very rare flower in their world. It was one that most practitioners of magic avoided because it was so potent. But if he was careful with it and added just the right amount in the right way…

"That should do it," he commented to himself a few hours later as he poured what he'd created into a small brown vial carefully.

"That will keep him alive?" Belle asked, putting her book aside and coming to the table again.

He nodded. "If I've done my job right, and I always do, then yes."

A magical creature would never take what he offered because it would destroy what and potentially who they were. David, however, would be completely restored to normal the second he took it. At least that was the theory.

"But let's be sure…Sweetheart, there's a potted plant in the other room-"

"I'll get it," she finished before he could ask. He smirked as he watched her move into the front room. He knew that she liked working in the library, he knew that she needed to be there just as much for his own sanity as her sense of self, but he did enjoy having an assistant. Especially an effective one.

She returned only a few seconds later with the neglected plant in hand. "Thank you," he whispered as she set it down before him. He wanted to kiss her, but as he looked at that plant, he suddenly had a much better idea of something he could give her. He snapped one of the dying buds off the plant and set it aside for later, in celebration, after he was sure he'd managed this. Then he returned to the task at hand. He pulled out a small container he had of some of the poison he'd worked with after he'd been stabbed, then applied a couple of drops to the soil at the stem of the plant. Predictably, the thing began to shrivel. What was once green became inky black and the small blue buds that had been clinging to it turned stark white before their petals fell off and to the bottom of the pot.

"Does that mean it didn't work?" Belle asked in a worried voice.

"No," he assured her as he reached for the little brown bottle he'd just filled with David's cure. "That was the Dreamshade, concentrated, the same kind used on me. It works faster on the plant because of the size. This…is the cure."

And then he used a dropper to pull a bit of the cure from the vial and let two drops fall onto the same place he'd put the poison. There was a pause as he held his breath, watched, and waited. And then…

The plant rejuvenated. The black on the stem disappeared and gave way to a thriving healthy green stem that perked right up. The white buds grew stronger and straighter, and then suddenly burst open to reveal beautiful blue healthy flowers.

"You did it!" Belle gasped beside him.

"It would seem so."

"Well, will it work? Long term, I mean."

So long as the flower's pollen destroyed the magic entirely, there was no reason it wouldn't.

"I can't test that, but I'm certain it will. I've been right about everything else."

"This can't wait," she informed him breathlessly. "We should go give it to David right away."

He nodded and quickly glanced at one of his clocks. "It's lunchtime, Granny's is a good place to start…" Though he would have happily spent all day alone with her, it was time they went out into the public eye. This would be worth it. But first…

Before either of them could speed away, he reached for the dying flower that he'd picked free before he'd tested the plant, the one bit that he would be sure was never infected with Dreamshade. He held it out before her, drew his magic into his hands, and then waved them over the flower, triggering a magical transfiguration. The stem grew; it developed sharper leaves and thorny sides. The blue petals from the flower fell off quickly and drifted to the floor. In their place, red petals burst forth, folding themselves over each other. The color was rich and healthy, just as healthy as this flower always would be. Which was good, because he wanted to give it to someone very special, someone he couldn't bear to have any kind of chance encounter with Dreamshade. He offered it to Belle, to his love.

She smiled at him under beckoning eyelashes, with a blush that would have had him drawing her closer to him if they didn't need to leave this place now. "An old woman selling flowers?" she questioned suspiciously.

Oh, he'd nearly forgotten about that. The first rose he'd ever given to her, it had been transfigured too, only instead of a transformation from another flower, it had been Gaston. But to keep her close, he'd lied to her when he gave her that rose, told her it was an old woman. He was going to have to tell her about that someday, he imagined. But not today, not when things were this perfect and yet imperfect all at once. They'd tackle it some other time.

"Someday, I'm going to tell you a story about that," he resigned himself to. "But for now, I am just a man asking a beautiful woman to have lunch with him."

"You can be incredibly charming when you want to be," she muttered, taking the flower from him and smelling it sweetly. Oh, he doubted she'd say that when he told her the story of the first flower. But for now…

"Only in your eyes."

She gave a small sigh as she smiled, then laid the flower on the table, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him. He'd lost track of how many times they'd kissed today, certainly enough to make up for the lost time in Neverland, and yet, he wasn't sure that number existed at all. He'd always feel like he needed one more from her. He'd always want one more. It would never be enough.

"You are the only one I want to be with today," she smiled when she released him. Still half-stunned by her, it took him a moment to catch on to what she was referencing, that she was accepting the offer of lunch with him. It wasn't that he expected her to refuse it, sometimes the attachment that she had to him simply took him by surprise all over again. Like now…

"Then let's find the real Prince Charming so we can be alone."

[treatian]

The Chronicles of the Dark One: Magical Loopholes

Chapter 5: The Valiant Heroes

The tea was done, and he excused himself to get it for her, preferably quickly so he could continue to answer her questions…and continue to experiment with touching her. He'd kept his hand at her back as they'd talked, and he'd liked it. He'd liked the way he felt every place they touched down to his bones and in his heart as well. He liked touching her. He wanted to find out where else he liked to touch her. So far, he'd held her in his arms at the well, touched her back just now, grabbed her hand on the way to the shop, even put a reassuring hand on her shoulder once. What was there to explore next? He didn't want to overwhelm her, not with information and not with him, but…he wondered if he could find another excuse to kiss her again, to hold her to him, or at least pull her closer as they talked.

What would she like, he wondered. He didn't have a lot of experience with women, but centuries ago, Margery, a woman from his hometown, had told him that he always needed to listen to her, to do what she liked and not do what she didn't like. He suspected she liked the touching, as he recalled how many times she'd touched him in the castle. But kissing…did she like that? Would she mind if they tried it again? Did he have to ask, or should he just try it again? Asking would be appropriate and gentlemanly; consent was important in this world, and it was important to him. But she certainly hadn't asked so long ago when they'd been at the castle, and he hadn't asked at the well.

He had a lot of questions on his mind, but the moment he heard the bell on the front door ring, his thoughts dissolved into something else, someone else, entirely.

Ah…they'd finally arrived.

Hours after they said they would, and without Henry in tow, the Savior, Emma Swan, and her parents were finally here. Now that he thought about it, Henry was probably one of the things that had delayed them in addition to whatever was happening out there. Though the absence of Henry was a bit unnerving, he imagined that they'd only exclude the boy if they assumed something bad was going to be happening. He certainly had no battles to fight with the Charming family at the moment, which could only mean they had one to fight with him. And Belle was hiding out in the back, practically frightened of her own shadow.

Fabulous.

"What can I do for you?" he asked politely, closing the lid to his teapot as Emma stopped in front of him and glared. She looked tired. No doubt she hadn't slept in nearly as long as he had, but anger seemed to be fueling her well enough. It could be an effective tool for channeling power.

"What you can do, is tell us what you did," she stated.

He smirked. "I'm sorry. You're going to have to be more specific."

"You know damn well what we're talking about," David shouted as Mary Margaret crossed her arms.

"You double-crossed Emma, you, uh, took your…potion from her," the former Queen explained with all the timidness of Mary Margaret.

"And did who knows what to this town," David accused with all the confidence of his former self. Interesting how memories could affect the personality.

"And, worst of all, you risked Henry's life," Emma finished for them.

"Well, that is quite a litany of grievances now, isn't it?"

"Maybe I don't need answers. Maybe, I just need to punch you in the face."

He let out a chuckle. "Really, dearie?" he questioned, gathering his cane to walk around his glass cabinet. A Queen who was still a schoolteacher, a former amnesia patient who was suddenly a Prince again, and a Savior who was seeking revenge for her family despite having them all gathered closer together than they had been in decades. Quite interesting reactions. "Allow me to answer your questions with some of my own, alright?

"Did your dear boy Henry survive?"

Emma crossed her arms in front of her chest and squared her shoulders, narrowing his gaze at him with a look of upset. "Yeah," she breathed unhappily.

"Is the curse broken?"

She narrowed her gaze as a muscle in her mouth ticked. It was the only answer he'd receive, and they both knew it.

"And let's see here Miss Swan, how long have you been searching for your parents?"

There it was again. Another muscle twitch at the mention of the word "parents" She'd only answered one question, but suddenly it was all becoming very clear to him what this was really about. For Emma, at least. She'd gotten rid of Henry for fear of violence that she'd threatened against a man that her parents would have warned her was like signing her own death wish, and yet she was doing it anyway. She'd come here knowing that she would lose whatever war of words she had in store for him, so then why bother. Why come here at all if she didn't really want answers? Could it be to avoid talking to the two people behind her? It must have been a strange thing for her to go from having no family except a small boy who believed in fairy tales to realizing that your parents were not only around and your age but had given you up to save an entire realm. He could understand looking for an outlet, for a distraction aside from dealing with that. Fortunately for her, if they didn't know it yet, and since the Wraith hadn't come up in their accusations, he doubted they would, they would soon have plenty of distraction.

"Looks like you're reunited," he pointed out with a coy smile. "Seems like, rather a punch in the face, I deserve a thank you."

"Twist my words all you want," she snapped. "What was the purple haze that you brought?"

He smiled as he shrugged, feeling terribly excited for the answer and even more so for their response. "You know…magic."

"Why?" Mary Margaret questioned.

"Not telling."

David opened his mouth to say something, but before he could get it out, he heard a loud noise from outside that rocked the earth they were on, sending the others staggering. On instinct, he channeled his magic and kept his balance. The crash didn't scare him, and his reaction only made him smile. He'd channeled magic without trying, on instinct…he was getting stronger. It was coming back to him. That was good.

"What the hell was that?" Emma questioned over her shoulder as her parents ran to the door and looked out the window. Outside he could hear car alarms blaring as lights flickered and sparks flew. But he didn't need to look any closer to know what was going on. The wraith would have lain dormant for a while after he summoned it. In addition to being a creature of the night, it existed on magic and power and it would have needed to learn to cope in this world just like he did. It appeared that it had finally learned. And now, in search of Regina, it would do what all Wraiths did…create chaos.

"That…is my gift to you," he stated, finally answering one of Emma's questions. "That...is going to take care of Regina."

There was another violent shake, and more noise and wind kicked up outside of the shop. He used more magic to keep himself stable though he felt it ebb a bit this time. He breathed through it as he reminded himself of his new mantra-it was like a muscle; the more he used it, the better he'd get.

"Emma, come on," Mary Margaret called.

"We need to go take care of this," David added as Emma continued to glare at him.

"We're not done," Emma whispered in a menacing voice. Considering who he was and who she was and which of them had power and knew how to use it, he found it really rather entertaining.

"Oh, I know," he answered. "You still owe me a favor."

A flash of a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth before she turned to leave with her parents. The noise of the outside world, of the wraith, finally passing the street roared in for a moment but faded when the door closed. The valiant heroes off to save the day, again! It would have been a sight he was happy to revel in until…

He turned back to what he'd been doing and saw the teacups out. Two teacups. Not one.

Belle…