#there was Nothing last week just nests so it's WILD that there are so many this week!! i'm so excited!! DOING SCIENCE BITCHES!!!!!

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

y’all there are twenty!! nine!! eggs!!!! in my nestwatch circuit!!!! i’m so happy!!

[potatoplace]

Honey

Omega!Elain x Alpha!Reader

kinktober day 13 (laaaate) | omegaverse, toys

kinktober '24 masterlist | ACOTAR x reader masterlist

Story Summary: After a concerning number of phone calls and messages from your omega, you rush home to find out what's happening. Thankfully, it's nothing to worry about, just your omega, needy and in heat and ready to be taken care of.

Warnings: smut, omegaverse, knotting, sex toys

Words: ~1.5k

Author's Note: sweet Elaaaaain ahhhh how I love you, you soft sweet female! She's so cute and needy in this I just love her so much. Also, I'm sorry this was late! But it's here now and I love it. I hope you guys like it too!

18+ only pls

🩷🤍🩷🤍🩷

“Come on, turn green!” You yelled at the traffic light, smacking your hands against the wheel.

It was the last light before you could turn onto the road you live on, the last light before you could check on your omega.

Elain had called you twenty times, left eight voicemails, and had incoherently texted you up until forty minutes ago, when all contact had suddenly stopped.

You had been in a meeting until a half an hour ago, and after seeing so many notifications from sweet Elain you had immediately hopped in your car and booked it home, anxiety building in your gut with every minute that passed without Elain calling you. Even your own calls to her went unanswered, your mind running wild at what it could mean.

Was she hurt? Did someone take her? Is she afraid?

You knew that she was more likely to be in heat- she was due for one in the next week or so, but your alpha instincts were running wild without having heard her say that she is perfectly fine, without seeing her for yourself.

The light finally changed colors, and you were soon pulled into your driveway, car parked and running in the front door.

As soon as you crossed the threshold, your senses were hit with the sweet, honeyed scent of your omega in heat, sending heat rushing through you. Your eyes flicked across the entryway, ears picking up soft whimpers from the living room to your left, and you made your way through the archway.

Your eyes landed on Elain, slumped on the floor against the couch, naked and with a knotting toy shoved deep inside of her cunt.

“Sweet omega, oh I’m so sorry I wasn’t here when you started your heat,” you said softly as you rushed over to her, your hands fussing against her skin, taking her temperature and smoothing back her sweat soaked hair. Elain whimpered pitifully, her forehead pushing weakly into your touch. “Let’s get you into your nest, ‘mega.”

You scooped Elain into your arms, leaving the knotting toy inflated inside of her to keep her with some relief. Elain sighed, her head nuzzling into your shoulder and scenting you as you brought her into your shared bedroom.

The bed that had been nicely made when you left this morning had been quickly transformed into Elain’s nest, blankets piled around the edges to create a makeshift wall, and all of the pillows in the house were placed around the inside of it. You spotted several pieces of clothing that you had worn in the past few days, your sleep shirts and apron included. Gently, you settled Elain in the middle of the nest, taking care to place a pillow under her head.

You pulled away to remove your shoes and clothes quickly, but Elain still cried out at the lack of contact.

“Alpha,” she whined, her hands pawing at the air for you, and you were there in the next moment, having shed your clothes as quickly as you could.

“I know, omega. I’m here,” you sighed against her skin as you brushed your lips against her mating mark, her breath catching and the sound making your heart skip a beat.

She had never lost that effect on you, and you were certain that she never would.

One arm braced you over Elain, allowing the other hand to snake down between her thighs, fingers brushing over her clit. Her answering gasp let you know that she was still in the first wave of her heat, still so sensitive to every little touch. You worked your fingers over her swollen bud slowly, your mouth sucking light marks onto Elain’s neck, tasting the sweat on her skin and the sweet scent radiating off of her, as addictive as ever.

Elain arched into your body, craning her neck to the side to give you better access to her skin.

You didn’t miss taking advantage of that, your teeth sinking lightly into the scar of the mating mark, loving the way your omega cried out your name, breathy moans landing right in your ear as she fell over the edge, hands pawing gently at you.

“Sweet little ‘mega, do you need more?” You asked lowly into Elain’s ear.

“Mm…” Elain whimpered, just barely managing to nod her head.

“Okay, honey. Just wait a moment, alright? And I’ll give you everything you need.”

You moved swiftly to the bedside table, opening the drawer and grabbing the strap-on knotting toy that the two of you kept around for when you weren’t in rut but Elain went into heat.

A good thing, seeing how desperate your sweet omega was at the moment, her hips gently rocking against the toy still buried inside of her.

You made quick work of putting it on, making sure it was secure against your hips and the little hand pump was attached and easy to grab.

Then, you came hover over Elain once more, sliding down to rest your shoulders between her spread thighs. The toy inside of was deflated slowly, the whimpers coming from the lips of your omega hurting your heart. Once the knot was small enough, you pulled the toy out of Elain, setting it off to the side before bringing your mouth to her core.

Her sweet, sweet pussy tasted like honey and jasmine, so perfectly, wonderfully Elain and instantly intoxicating you, your mind narrowing to just the taste of her, the soft sighs gracing your ears, the gentle squeeze of her thighs around your head when she got closer to the edge.

Two fingers pushed inside of her as your tongue moved its attentions to her clit, curling against the spot that you knew would drive her to finish. Elain did a few moments later, her hands tangling in your hair and tugging lightly, your sweet omega’s slick rushing out of her and straight to your tongue, pure honey to your senses, syrupy and sweet and washing your mind in hormones, calling you to breed your omega full.

Elain’s hands were still in your hair as you prowled up her body, eyes roving over her heated flesh, a light sheen of sweat covering her.

You dipped your fingers into Elain’s core, coating the head of the toy in her slick before slowly pushing it into her, reveling in the satisfied moans spilling from her lips as you filled her.

Elain shuddered underneath you when the slightly inflated knot pushed into her, enough to give her the fullness she was craving while still being able to thrust in and out of her slowly, angling the toy to the sweet spots deep inside of her.

Your face was buried in her neck as you fucked her, taking in every bit of her scent that you could, licking and biting at the sensitive skin of her scent gland, Elain copying your actions against your own neck. Her soft kisses and gentle nips were slowly driving you insane, your own core feeling molten from the desire your omega caused in you.

But right now was about her, easing her heat and knotting her as many times as she needed.

And you did just that, inflating the knot and letting it catch on her hole a couple of times before settling inside of her, fully inflating the knot and groaning as your omega shuddered and cried out her release, biting down on your mating mark the moment after.

Both of you were panting when Elain relaxed slightly, her arms falling away from your shoulders. She blinked up at you, her eyes looking clearer than earlier, less clouded by desire.

“Hi,” she whispered, a soft smile on her lips as she met your eyes.

“Hi, ‘Lain. I’m sorry I didn’t get home sooner, love, I was in a meeting,” you said apologetically, giving her a sweet kiss on the lips.

Elain sighed happily against your lips, leaning up and stealing another. “It’s okay, alpha, you’re here now. That’s what matters.”

You smiled and nuzzled your nose with hers. “That’s true, little ‘mega. And I’m going to call in a little bit and let them know that I’ll be out of the office for the next week. And every second is going to be spent pampering you and knotting you. Does that sound good?”

Elain beamed up at you. “That sounds perfect, Y/N.”

“Good, love. Now, let me know when you need me to take the knot out or if you need more, hmm?”

Elain nodded her head, letting you pull her onto her side as you rolled onto yours, snuggling her face against your bare chest. “Just snuggles for now, alpha.”

You hummed in acknowledgment, and let your hands run through her tangled hair, working out the knots. In a few minutes, Elain has drifted off, soft snuffles leaving her lips every now and then.

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face as you looked down at your omega, placing a gentle kiss on the crown of her head.

Your sweet omega.

General Taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff @lilah-asteria

Omegaverse Taglist: @icey--stars (lemme know if you just want Feysand involved 🫶)

[autistic-piece]

Straw Hat Headcanons

SFW // Just soft stuff

Random headcanons about the crew! + Vivi

👒Luffy

✦ doesn't read unless it's something about bugs -- or he'll ask Robin to read for him ✦ actually knows everything about bugs, by the way. and will talk about it anytime he has a chance to ✦ probably tries to draw the bugs he catches before releasing them in the wild ✦ absolute adhd ✦ his favourite part of the museum is the souvenir shop ✦ he takes care of his den den mushi. like, that snail is almost a part of the crew ✦ gets overwhelmed when there are too many informations to process ✦ secretly likes cherry pies, especially Sanji's ✦ he'll definitely make faces at you if you feel bad and need to laugh ✦ considers Vivi, Carrot and Yamato part of his crew

🍊Nami

✦ absolute feminist. don't ever insult a woman in front of her, or that's the last thing you'll do. she hates terf's (and she's right) ✦ she showed the crew how to pick tangerines so that they wouldn't risk damaging her tree ✦ she loves brushing and styling people's hair -- especially Usopp's ✦ not a big fan of bugs, but will definitely listen to Luffy when he talks about them ✦ with the help of Usopp, she drew tattoo designs for each member of the crew. and even has a special one for Law ✦ enjoys gardening ✦ she likes visiting new islands ✦ and she loves when Robin talks about the island's history ✦ okay, Nami basically just loves seeing people excited about their interests -- she can listen to Franky when he builds new stuff as well! she doesn't get the hype, but seeing him so excited just makes her happy

⚔️ Zoro

✦ he's already used every other straw hat as a pillow, at least once ✦ actually enjoys cleaning the dishes with Sanji ✦ he is bad at remembering birthdays. he can barely remember his own. but fortunately, when it's a straw hat's birthday, either Sanji or Usopp will remind him about it in the morning ✦ he doesn't shower after training. that dude takes a shower once a week, and nothing will change it ✦ but honestly no one really cares anymore now. they're used to it ✦ he just doesn't like water that much ✦ sometimes he'll use his katana to cook with Sanji. because he can't find the knife. Sanji probably lost it anyway ✦ (actually Zoro somehow dropped it in the crow's nest) ✦ never gives hugs, but likes to receive them ✦ secretly watches Luffy when he sits on Sunny's head to make sure he doesn't fall into the water

🌱 Usopp

✦ is actually invited to girls' nights. literally the only one who has that privilege ✦ he decorated both the boys' and the girls' rooms, and everyone loves how he did it ✦ he cannot tell creepy stories. he'd scare himself too much ✦ if he finds an island pretty, or likes a certain view, you can be sure he'll paint it ✦ Luffy will come to see the painting every five minutes to see how it goes ✦ the crew hangs Usopp's paintings on the walls of the Sunny. they make good memories ✦ he made ceramic dishware for the crew ✦ always messing around with Luffy and Chopper ✦ probably attempts to write a story about his and the crew's adventures ✦ he loves gardening too. Nami is great with vegetables and fruits, and he's great with plants ✦ plant mum, by the way. he gives his plants names

🍳 Sanji

✦ of course, Sanji knows everyone's favourite foods on the ship ✦ he writes his own recipe book, by the way ✦ and the first dishes are all named after the Straw Hats (it's the first time wrote Zoro's name, by the way, not just 'marimo') ✦ will most definitely buy or pick flowers when the crew docks on an island ✦ feeds stray dogs and cats ✦ gets lectured by Chopper very often about his smoking habit ✦ when the others are sick, he'll bring them their lunch to bed ✦ enjoys reading some poetry ✦ one time he tried to tell the verses aloud while cooking and Zoro was behind him. he thought Sanji was talking to him. Sanji still doesn't know ✦ he finds anyone who smiles genuinely beautiful

🌸 Chopper

✦ absolute hugger, after Luffy ✦ he can just come behind anyone and hug them because he wants to ✦ he absolutely doesn't loves when you pat him on his head. "you know i hate that, don't pat me!" he says while blushing and wriggling and giggling ✦ laughs at Brook's bone jokes, even after all this time ✦ he can stare at Usopp's paintings for hours ✦ he wants to learn to paint too, now ✦ Choppers gets very excited whenever it's someone's birthday ✦ he'll want to help Sanji bake a cake, and if he can't, he'll definitely decorate the cake -- edible glitter, sugar hearts... ✦ he rests on Robin's lap whenever he needs a break

📖 Robin

✦ reads before going to bed. of course she does ✦ she loves talking about history and ancient cultures. please listen to her. she's passionate ✦ absolutely loves when Nami brushes and styles her hair ✦ she loves holding hands, whether it's Chopper, Nami, Luffy, or anyone in the crew ✦ she can't focus much when Chopper sleeps in her lap, because he's way too cute. but really, she doesn't mind ✦ she doesn't say it often, but she finds Franky's skills impressive ✦ she doesn't like cooking much ✦ she's not much of a gardener either, but she absolutely loves looking at Usopp when he tends to his plants

🤖 Franky

✦ definitely had to install more shelves in the girls' rooms for Robin's books ✦ history is not exactly his cup of tea, but Robin knows how to make it interesting, so he'll listen to her when she wants to talk about something she learnt ✦ Franky has already created bug-like robots for Luffy ✦ and Usopp painted them ✦ they look like real bugs, but bigger. Luffy loves them ✦ Likes working with music. if Brook starts playing he'll just sit next to him while working on his next project

🎻 Brook

✦ this man is just so happy to be alive ✦ he'll play music all day long if the crew asks him too ✦ Luffy tried to learn music with him. ("yohoho! thank got i don't have ears!") ✦ but Brook didn't really mind because Luffy seemed to have fun. that's really the most important part in music ✦ he will play lullabies if someone can't sleep ✦ he tries to write his own scores. Robin and Usopp are usually the first ones to listen to them ✦ Usopp made him a custom violin

🌊 Jinbei

✦ probably speaks a lot of languages. he loves learning about people's cultures ✦ loves traveling as well, especially with friends. after all, there's no fun in traveling alone ✦ if Sanji ever gets sick, tired, or is too busy too cook (which rarely happens), Jinbei can definitely replace him ✦ he will help Sanji in the kitchen very often, too ✦ he likes animals. there could be a cat on the ship and he would take care of it ✦ sometimes he also gets invited to the girls' nights ✦ Nami loves touching his hair ✦ the crew likes to listen to his adventures from when he was a membre of the sun pirates ✦ undiagnosed autistic

💧 Vivi

✦ adhd, just like Luffy. she can't stand still, she needs to do something with her hands ✦ she reads the newspapers daily to see if the straw hats are mentioned ✦ she started to read books about pirates after travelling with them. it brought back memories ✦ she owns a ceramic bowl that Usopp made for her ✦ she puts her jewellery in it ✦ she also planted tangerines in the castle garden ✦ sometimes she writes letters to the crew that she's never sent, but hopes to give them when she meets them again

[batrogers]

Headaches

[Wild & Hyrule, hair-care, soft comfort, very G-rated, ~800 words]

Also on AO3 now!

Link sat at the edge of the river they were using for baths and fought down the urge to scream. He pulled down the messy bun at the back of his head and even that felt bad. He’d started putting it up a few days ago, when he could tell it was starting to get matted again. There’d been too many people around, and too much to do to really sit down and take the time... and last week had been a bad one, where he had headaches and fatigue so strong raising his arms had been too much.

One thing after another after another, and now he had this rat’s nest to undo...

He still wasn’t feeling all that much better.

If he were home, he’d just go find Zelda. He wouldn’t even have to ask her; she’d just look at him and gesture for him to sit and take care of it, like she had after he freed her from the castle. It was good for her too, she’d said. She found it grounding, and she liked taking care of him after everything that had happened since...

He had a comb. He’d gotten his hair wet. He even had the fucking horse shampoo with him, but the task felt so daunting and someone was going to walk up on him and...

Someone did walk up, but, in the way he always had, Hyrule just waved one hand and cracked his neck before stripping and dropping into the water without a second look. He didn’t even seem to notice Link’s messy hair. His was never a mess, as far as Link could tell, although it was shorter. He thought about cutting his hair (for likely the hundredth time since he’d woken up) and...

He couldn’t do it. He didn’t want to pretend to be someone he wasn’t, and if he looked like he used to again –

Best not to tempt fate, and his own hollow mind.

“You okay, Wild?” Hyrule asked.

“Do you know what the others are up to?” Link asked, rather than try and answer.

“Sparring again.” Hyrule yawned. “I didn’t sleep well, and you know what Twilight and Warriors are like.”

They’d be busy for an hour, Link thought, and looked at Hyrule again. They were pretty good friends, and he’d always been nice. And his habit, of studiously avoiding any note of his hair was...

Hopefully he was right. “Hey, Rulie?”

“Yeah? What is it?”

“Could you help me with my hair?” The words almost strangled him to say. He couldn’t say much more than that, but he didn’t have to. Rulie looked up, startled, then just nodded.

“Oh? Yeah sure. You’ve got a comb and stuff – what’s this?”

“Horse shampoo,” Link said, and reconsidered: the stuff they’d heard about his Hyrule was worse than his sometimes. “You have seen shampoo and stuff, right?”

“Usually I just used, uh, nothing great.” Hyrule laughed. “Zelda’s got better stuff at the castle, although I’ve never had anything to do with the stables. What happened?”

Link could feel him pulling his hair back and carefully picking at the ends. It was a bunch of little tugs, but nothing too painful. One particularly sharp pull left him flinching and Hyrule grunted an apology. He didn’t repeat the question. It hung, quietly between them as Hyrule slowly worked his way through the tangles one bit at a time.

“Was your hair ever this long?”

“A couple times,” Hyrule admitted. “When I was really young, mostly. Some of the ladies in the towns would sit me down and help when it got really bad then I was living with Zelda and they helped me keep it short.”

Link grunted his agreement there. That made sense, and he hoped that was why he was being so nice about this. If he’d had a hard time with his hair before...

Admittedly it sounded like Hyrule had been a literal child, but. Still.

It was something.

“...I didn’t want to ask if you were having a bad time,” Hyrule said, eventually. “I figured you’d let us know when you needed help.”

Link swallowed. “Normally Zelda helps me with it. It was just a bad week. I’m okay. I had a headache.”

Hyrule hummed another few notes then and Link could feel the comb going from almost the nape of his neck down now, the tangles slowly unravelling under his hands. They weren’t done; there was still a ways to go, but the gentle strokes felt good. The tug and pull tingled in a good way, and Hyrule poured more water from a jar over his head.

“Turn your head?” He murmured, and Link closed his eyes and did so.

By the time the others had finished sparring and caught up, Hyrule was brushing his hair through the last few times, perhaps a few more than necessary but Link had no wish to tell him to stop. His headache was, finally, gone, and he could just enjoy a few moment’s rest.

[hyuge]

Pushes Him Whispering

Touya has always hated fire. The irony was not lost on him. As a fire god, humans feared him. He had set one too many villages ablaze on accident. Fire is temperamental. Even as a god, he has struggled to control it most his life. He, himself, was also temperamental. A trait he had developed from his father. He wondered if those born of fire were inherently bad. Touya lost count of how many times he had hurt himself and others. It was more than he cared to admit. Now, he lives in relative solitude. If he doesn't bother anyone then he can't hurt them. The last few centuries he's taken to idly watching the world around him, especially the birds flying free. Touya would never dare touch a bird. They were too fragile. So why did your red-tailed hawk insist on landing by him?

"I'll burn you," he warned on more than one occasion.

The hawk would cock its head to the side and stare at him with unnaturally golden eyes. It watched him and he watched it. Its nest was nearby, having made its home at the top of a very tall tree. The hawk would swoop down, snatching snatching field mice for lunch and Touya would watch. The sun's warmth settled on his skin, blanketing him in sleep. When he woke, the hawk was there, perched just above his head, watching him sleep.

"Like what you see?" He asked.

The hawk inclined its head as if in thought. It was sad to think his only friend was a wild bird.

"Should I name you?" Touya asked the hawk. Its life was fleeting and his was long. Naming the bird would only bring him sadness. "What about Keigo?"

The hawk trilled.

"Keigo it is," said Touya.

With nothing better to do with his eternal life, he continued to watch the bird daily. Sometimes Touya would talk to it as if it had any clue what he was saying. It made him feel a little less lonely and like he wasn't just speaking to himself. The hawk never shied away or attacked him. Maybe it sensed that he wasn't human but it still kept a health distance. That was for the best, lest Touya accidentally burn it. Birds weren't built to handle heat. It was a lazy, quiet life but Touya was content.

Touya hard grown too comfortable in his current environment. The other shoe always inevitably dropped and this time, it came in the form of a nightmare. He woke up to a blazing blue inferno around him and a bird pecking his head. Touya had started a fire in his sleep and Keigo had tried to wake up.

"What are you doing you dumb bird? I'm immortal! You aren't."

Touya sat up in a hurry and called the flames back to him but it was too late. The forest was scorched and the small bird of prey was injured. Keigo's wings were toasted and he struggled to breathe. His chest fluttered with each raspy breath.

"You idiot! Why would you risk your life to save me?" Asked Touya, scooping Keigo into his hands.

Keigo chirped. Shit. He couldn't let this one small creature die. Mortal lives were fleeting and Keigo was just a bird but Touya had to do something. He couldn't be the cause of yet another death. "Hang on birdy," he said.

Touya cut his hand and golden blood flowed from his veins. He let the ichor drip onto Keigo's body and carefully pried the bird's beak open. As blood dripped into Keigo's mouth, he swallowed. Golden eyes glowed in the evening light and his small, feathered body began to grow and expand. Gone was the small hawk that laid in Touya's lap. Now, a man with sharp, golden eyes and hair, and large red wings peered up at him.

"Keigo," breathed Touya.

The leaden weight that has crushed his chest finally lifted. Keigo reached up, touching Touya's hair. "You gave me a name but you've never told me yours."

Touya's eyes widened. "Oh. It's Touya."

"It's nice to meet you, Touya," said Keigo fondly.

Written for DabiHawks Week Day 2: Mythology, hosted by @dabihawksweeks.

Also on AO3

[contentment-of-cats]

Dear Saturday,

It's good to see you again. I don't know how many of you I have left, but remission's holding steady. I'll have my results in two weeks, and if I'm still negative it will be 11 months. I've been a little busier than usual. My day job and the paid gig, plus that kidney stone took a whack at me.

On the Money

The paid gig is panning out, and I just handed in the last one for the year. They're happy with my work, but OMFG I am never writing porn in fandom again.

In talking with a friend, I compared it to my summer job in my hometown ice cream shop. It sounds like a dream job until you actually do it. I didn't touch ice cream again until my mid-twenties. Besides, this is writing to spec, I get very little say in the content and have to stick to the outline. Think of it as working in an ice cream shop and never getting to eat a flavor you like, but are instead served nothing but banana splits made with rum raisin, bubblegum, and tutti frutti ice cream, topped with crushed maraschino cherries. The company's given up on AI completely so far as written content, it's just unworkable with results either laughable, incomprehensible, or appalling.

Do they even make rum raisin ice cream any longer?

In any case, between last year and this year, my medical expenses out of pocket are $35,000. That's with donations. I've been lucky that my boss supported me by paying my rent for six months and I had a load of unused PTO. I need to stuff that back into savings stat, and my PPO premiums are going up by $100 this year. I need five more novels to get even, then three more to cover my premiums for the year. I also want to cover my out-of-pocket, up to $9k from $7k. My paycheck needs to cover basics, and I do not want to tap savings more than strictly necessary.

In the Kitchen

It's Thanksgiving this coming Thursday, and it's one I did not expect to see. I didn't do holidays last year. I laid in bed with my incisions and ileostomy bag, and I slept. Today was cooking day, and I've had a busy morning 5-cheese tortellini with peas and mushrooms. Roasted Italian sausages. Also made egg-roll-inna-bowl. My Thanksgiving menu is duck leg and thigh confit, with a Caesar salad, wild rice and mushroom soup, potatoes roasted in duck fat, and pumpkin mousse.

If you like duck and have a sous vide, making duck or goose confit is easy. Put the leg-and-thigh in a sous vide or ziplock bag with salt, pepper, garlic powder, PSR&T and sous vide for at least 12 hours. Duck and goose have enough fat that you don't need to add much additional fat, and that yummy fat is great for roasting the potatoes. The longer you cook it, the more tender the meat. Take it out and run under the broiler to crisp it up.

Horizontally

The housework and cooking done, it's cool, grey, and raining. I've made the couch into a nest, partly claimed by the kitties. It's time to read and drink peppermint hot chocolate. I've been reading Susan Gulbar's 'Memoir of a Debulked Woman' and have Patrick Keefe's 'Empire of Pain' queued. Aside from Thrawn and Star Wars in general, my tastes run to nonfiction, I have a lot of Thrantovember catching up to so, but... bed so soft, kitties so enticing, and books awaiting me.

[the-heaminator]

its a wip but ngl I like it

It was warm today, bright sun on his feathers, he was particularly frivolous today, he had preened himself and washed himself in the bowl, there were some very pretty crows flitting around the garden, it was breeding season after all, and in his long life, unnaturally long, though he didn't fully realise it, it always went like this, he settled down, made a nest, made a family, and again, and again, he noticed somewhat that his breeding partner always lived longer than the other crows, but she always ended up dying.

He didn't die. It wasn't fair.

He wouldn't think about that right now, right now it was time to start anew, yes. Yes it was, he called out. This would be the last time. Yes it would be.

If feelings could kill, Arthur would murder with sheer apathy, but he always got a little better in spring and summer, normally he couldn't care less about most things, and she knew this, but it was sort of nice to see some light return to his eyes.

He loved his crows dearly, he loved her dearly, he loved her brothers dearly, he loved his cat dearly.

Those were possibly the only things keeping him sane, she didn't know, couldn't be sure with him. But she did love her birds, so it wasn't too much of a far stretch to think that the little feathered creature that had been his for over a millennia would be close to his heart, regardless of what material it was made of at the moment, he was watching them, Christopher was he called?

It would make more sense to call a robin that, Christopher robin, but that crow had been around when she was a child, it was an oddly affectionate bird, all things considered, and he used to love sitting on the headboard of any chair or sofa she was sitting on, especially in the library during winter, watching over her, it was a little ominous yes, but he never did anything to her, it was like he was reading over her shoulder. She swore he understood everything they said.

Arthur spoke up, his voice was oddly hoarse, according to Rhys he had just been on a bender a week or so ago, and it showed, his hair had still a vague tinge of green, he looked a little more worse for wear than usual in general "How long do crows normally live Eleanor?"

That was an odd question, and something she was sure Arthur already knew the answer to, he was staring out the window, he seemed a little absent at the moment, nursing a now warm cup of tea, he was odd today, but she said nothing of it.

"Round 10 or so years in the wild, nearly 60 in captivity. Why?"

Flat, "Nothing, just wanted to know."

There was something off about him but she couldn't place what.

She asked slowly, like one would do to a frightened cat, oddly enough those similarities had always been there, even as he supposedly calmed down, still a little feral, especially when in such moods "How long have you had Christopher anyways?"

He looked at her, rather looked through her for a moment before bringing himself to look at her face, he looked tired, she usually didn't feel worried for him, that would be a waste unless he was physically hurling his guts up so much he couldn't stand, but he had just been off for a while now.

"Hmm, it's been a while, a thousand years at least, why do you ask?"

She looked out at him preening and looking pretty, a thousand years or more was a long time, she couldn't really fathom such a timescale, and crows were smart animals, they experienced grief just like humans, how many mates had he run through over the centuries, crows lived a long time naturally if give the right conditions, and under the influence of another immortal creature, they lived longer still. But they still did die.

Crows were social animals, generations often visited their parents, how would Christopher feel, how would he know really, that he would always outlive his children.

Yet he kept at it, flirting with many an inquisitive female, Arthur seemed to be thinking along the same lines, they were both quite similar in a lot of respects, foul temper, snarky, blunt, acidic, many had pointed it out, a love for birds somehow wheeled its way through too, but she was much younger, far, far younger; she couldn't read his face like he could read hers, he shut everything down sometimes, like Matthew did.

[jojojoanie]

 When’s the last time anyone heard  anything about JOANNE FOREMAN? Old friends remember them as SHARP &  HUMOROUS but also DRAINED & ABRASIVE, no wonder  they’re still known as THE MEDIA MACHINE around town. Today, in 2006, they are 38 and some people say they remind them of worry wrinkles far too deep for one’s age; an average of six cups of coffee a day;  a cloud of smoke following your every step; an unquenchable thirst for peace of mind.

tw: death and injury

the artist formerly known as ‘joanie’, simply ‘jo’ or even ‘jojo’, now goes by her government name of joanne foreman. funny, how things change. had someone dared to call her joanne in 1988 rest assured she would’ve made them pay. but alas.

born and raised in hawkins, without ever having spent more than a few weeks away at christian summer camps and the like, joanie grew up with the firm belief that her parents had to have been the most boring people on earth. not that there isn’t some truth to it, it’s just that now she’s become equally boring, so what does it matter. she used to resent them for living that picture perfect life, with their little nuclear family in a big house on elm street, living the dream of their generation. the older she gets, the less despicable that idea seems.

joanie’s dreams used to be bigger than that, used to not fit anymore. no space in that big fucking house for her to let her imagination run wild. comparing her childhood home to that measly rat’s nest of an apartment she lives in in new york, well, she rather thinks she shouldn’t have taken it for granted.

growing up with a perfect older sister and a perfect younger brother, joanne’s the middle child so it was to be anticipated that she’d come out of that house a little fucked up, right? ‘who knows what went wrong with that one’ their neighbours used to wonder when she‘d storm out the house after another explosive argument with her parents. the way she dressed, her hair, the sort of music she listened to defied everything her parents deemed proper and good, everything they’d worked for, shattering their perfect image. not that jo was doing it actively rebel against their lifestyle - not that she wasn’t enjoying this unintended rebellion, either. it was the late 80s in the middle of buttfuck, indiana - well, what else was there to do except be a disruptor and nuisance to her parents? cause a little trouble?

despite being somewhat of an outcast she, amazingly, sailed through school with flying colours - the only reason her parents didn’t disown her, she suspects - and decides against college, scores a gig at the hawkins post. not that college is completely out of the picture, it’s just that she doesn’t know what to do with herself. like, at all. she’s been interning at the post since sophomore year - a classic case of her dad knowing someone who was friends with the wife of a guy who could put in a good word - so what’s the harm in gathering some work experience before she embarks on the long-awaited greyhound busride outta here?

it buys her some time, so wherever she decides to go, she won’t arrive as lost as she’s feeling right now. she even gets treated a little less shitty by her employers, so that’s a win. though she’s never been treated particularly bad, either. jo likes to think her more adrogynous nature and her ‘i won’t take any bullshit’ attitude contributes to that. maybe also the fact that she’s got pictures of tom holloway kissing his college aged girlfriend. a little blackmail never hurt anyone.

so there she is for a couple months, in charge of brewing coffee, sorting through the rough drafts of stories and news, discarding the many … batshit crazy clues people are calling in. those can go to the weekly watcher. she’s never bought the bullshit about the town being ‘cursed’ or whatever, it’s just a small town, there was nothing more to it. people were bored and inventing stories. it was getting ridiculous at this point.

especially in spring break of ‘86, the  crazy seemed to reach a whole nother level of … well, crazy. first, the murders. jo had never talked to him much - yeah, she’d been a loner but, like, not a fucking nerd at least - but eddie munson had never seemed like the type of guy to brutally kill some cheerleader to get revenge on his bullies or whatever. but things weren’t looking good for him. even if you gave him the benefit of the doubt … well, there wasn’t much doubting. seemed pretty clear. munson murdered that cunnigham kid, for whatever reason. however, jo didn’t buy into that ‘he was leading a devil worshipping cult’ shit. it was dnd. just a nerdy dice game.

with things becoming more … well, for lack of a better word, interesting around town, jo was considering extending her break before college, maybe investigative journalism could be her thing. and so, to do some investigating - mainly to visit her neighbours’ elderly mother, whom they had asked jo to keep and eye on and  who, living in forest hills trailer park, was increasingly worried about, well, everything - jo hopped into her more than busted car and drove down to the trailer park. stayed there until nightfall - she’d meant to leave by noon, had been talked into a second and third helping of cake - and wasn’t even gonna do any further snooping around when, on her way home, in the middle of the road, she came across fred benson. naturally, jo screamed at him to ‘get the fuck out of the way, moron! ‘ since he was blocking the way. soon, though, her protests died down when fred, unresponsive, began to lift into the fucking air, float there and then - there are shivers and cold sweat when she thinks about this now - proceeded to have his bones cracked by some … invisible force in one of the most gruesome scenes jo’s ever witnessed.

to this day, joanne just hopes her former neighbour’s sweet old mother laced that cake with something. hopes that she was simply going crazy, that this wasn’t real. deep in her bones, though, she knows it. feels that she actually saw what she saw.

that night she turned her car around as fast as possible, took a two hour ice cold shower and filled out a couple college applications. by the end of the following month, jo has packed up her shit and moved to new york.

denial is her method of choice of dealing with this, when it finally begins to sink in that all the clues she’s tossed out through the years might’ve actually had some truth to them. denial is good, she’s got no time to work through that stuff, anyway. so she just pretends it never happened. whatever the opposite of a crazy conspiracy nutjob is, that’s her.

the next few years are pretty uneventful, jo’s busy with her politcial science degree at hunter’s (she’s missed the application deadline for everything else), as well as busy with reinventing herself, finding her new york personality.  also, finding the funds to fund her new york personality and general lifestyle. there’s a bunch of odd jobs, everything from waitressing to working coatcheck to being an usher on broadway, she dips her toes into every water available. it’s all about the experience, right?

it’s nothing but a stroke of pure, dumb luck that lands her the internship at snl. she’s never even considered working in tv before, thought she’d evetually just circle back round to working the front desk at some paper. she’s out with friends at a comedy club one night, drunk off her tits - she’d just failed an important exam, had fully embraced the fact that she was a failure and would probably be kicked off campus soon enough - when the owner had announced that it was ‘open mic night’. glorious, disastrous, everything in between. jo had swayed to the stage, tapped the mic and slurred ‘is this thing on?’ into it, and that’s all she remembers. the next morning there’s someone’s business card in her coat pocket.

the week after that she’s bringing coffee and sandwiches to the snl writer’s room. it’s funny how life works sometimes. her parents are less than thrilled that she’s dropped out of college but more than thrilled to hear that she’s met will ferrell.

when jo says she has little to no memory of the years that follow, it’s no exaggeration. it’s a blur of work, work, work, work and long nights spent in bars and seedy downtown clubs with the cast and crew of america’s favourite late night entertainment show. it’s when she’s finally managed to work her way into the writer’s room that jo changes, drastically. that rebellious, snarky young girl is gone, replaced by someone who always looks serious, who’s got deep dark circles under their eyes, who’s never taken a day off work and i mean, like, ever. she’s not so much fun to be around anymore, too professional for most of her fun loving friends. they sometimes joke that the infamous ‘debbie downer’ sketch is based off of her. jo’s not in on the joke.

the year is 2006 when things come crashing down. she never thought there’d be such a thing as working too much, after all this is her dream job (right?) or at least pretty good for someone who came to new york with no idea what they wanted to do with their life. she gets sloppier with the tasks she’s in charge of, her jokes rarely get used anymore, and it’s clear she needs a break - clear to anyone but her.

here’s a word of advice - if you want to make it to the top, work for it, maybe. don’t sleep with your married editor. which is, incidentally, what jo did. those news broke to everyone shortly before snl’s summer hiatus, and so, on the last day of work, joanne was called into her boss’s office and kindly advised to ‘take a break, ms foreman. i really advise you to take a long break, if you get what i mean.’ wait until the dust has settled and see if, once you’re in your right mind again, you’re still deserving of your job.

funny, how life works sometimes. you’re on top of the world in one moment, then completely crushed sitting alone in your shitty apartment in the next. summer in new york is shit if you’ve got noone to spend it with. and since that affair with her editor ended - their wife had threatened jo with a very, very explicit letter once she’d found out about the affair - jo was alone, truly. she hadn’t exactly spent the the last few years making meaningful connections in town, married to her work. sure, she had work friends. but now she had no work, thus no friends.

the letter arrived and jo, who had had virtually nothing to do with joyce byers, had initally wanted to stay home, but her parents had insisted she come back home. jo hadn’t told them about her little work fiasco, why bother? she finally felt like she wasn’t a disappointment to them anymore, like she could keep up with her perfect siblings, she wasn’t going to return to those judging stares, those disappointed shakes of the head.

so it was time to get back to hawkins, get back to living a lie.

[fioreisforlovers]

(@wingsofachampion) 14 and 15! -Tropius

14. Weirdest recent local news story?

i know i already answered this one but i basically always have something. this isn't the most recent but it is wild. last year fall city started having some major problems with murkrow nesting everywhere- buildings, power lines, etc. if you know murkrow you know that they are crazy smart too, and they tried to get rid of them but nothing was working- loud noises, changes to architecture, nothing. they started just removing the nests as they found them and in response the murkrow started building fucking decoy nests EVERYWHERE. it was CHAOS you would look at a building and see at least 5 nests. obviously rangers were trying to get a handle on things but there were just so many murkrow, basically every single ranger in fiore had to go to fall city and spend a whole week trying to hunt down every murkrow. absolute madness

15. If you had to pick a Pokémon to represent you, what Pokémon would you pick?

being asked this by tropius, the tropius, is so weird lol. as much as i wish it was absol, it definitely isn't. maybe espurr? i think it would be some kind of young psychic type that doesn't have a good handle on their powers. or maybe the ralts line. when i was a kid i was so jealous of kirlia because they can evolve into gallade and i was like "man i don't wanna grow up to be a woman, i wanna be a gallade. i'm definitely cis tho"

[jaesrri]

This got a bit rambling, so lemme put it under a cut- see below for long thoughts on my own experiences with climate change and humans interacting with ecosystems.

I live in Pennsylvania, and am only in my thirties. I remember white Christmases having about even odds, and it generally being cold enough even if it didn't happen to. Winter weather (consistently cold enough for coats) generally moved in by mid November, Halloween chilly enough for costumes with faux fur but usually not so cold that thinner ones couldn't be managed with leggings and an undershirt. The winter weather didn't start to break until March, and April has always been a bit of a crapshoot. May you might get a late frost or a random hot day, but should mostly be nice.

June summer moves in, July should be hot days but the nights should be cooler, and august bakes. The fireflies should rise thick as the sun goes down, all summer long. Any of the three months could hit 90- but only the latter half of July and August should hang out there. September summer weakens, and by the end of the month fall should be glorious.

Now the last few winters have been weak overall- but with spans of brutal cold- the effect of a weaker Jetstream. It's supposed to freeze and stay there- not have several days over sixty in December. The plants struggle when the temp yo-yos that badly. I saw buds in January that need to wait for march. In January we had a low of 9 (slightly colder than we usually get) and a high of 63 in the same week. January is normally our coldest time- our average January high is 35 and low 20.

The fireflies are dying. The birds are returning- but for how long without the bugs? I remember catching three fireflies with one gentle sweep of my hand, and when seeing a redtail hawk (commonest bird of prey here) was an event. Now I see one or more most days, and have the privilege to wish that juvenile in my tree would shut up for a bit. I think I caught two fireflies all season last year- granted, I'm an adult and don't chase as much as I once did..... But there should be more.

I work in a big box store in the garden center. There aren't enough hours in the day to educate everyone, to make sure they weigh the costs and the benefits of what they buy and do. Sometimes I can. Other times I see people clearly about to flout the package instructions on powerful chemicals and can't get them to understand why maybe using twice as much pesticide on your lawn as directed is a bad idea, let alone why using *any* might be.

I'm not a purist in any direction. Sometimes one of these products is the best solution for a particular problem that a particular person has. Wasps are friends, pollinators, pest managers- and I go out of my way to educate people about them. And I'm still the one spraying the nests that get built in the emergency exit door push bars at the garden center. I love you, but you cannot be here. I wish I could just explain.

Bird feeders (I hope you'll clean it well and often) in the same cart as broad spectrum lawn insect killer (kills all season long!) and weed killer. How do I get rid of.....? (Why would you want to? I sometimes think)

Winter gets more inconsistent and summer is dangerously hot and plants that I grew up with have turned out invasive and so many people don't know. I found out what I always thought were wild raspberries are actually wine berry, a different but related plant. They're invasive here, choking out native raspberries (I've never actually seen any) and other plants. Yet nothing has ever tasted so damn good as a sun-ripe ra-wineberry. I'm not sure I actually like raspberry much- grocery store ones are always so sad.

It's hard to know how to feel sometimes, bald eagles are back and fireflies suffering and the taste of summer is an invasive plant.

[worldismyne]

The Longest Sleepover Ch 5 + 6

Summary: The first year of school did not go as planned for Harv and he’s never felt more alone. That is, until a loud kid from the saga studies course decides they’re best friends now.

(Year 1 AU, Harv deals with homophobia, Finn is oblivious.)

Series: Warrior U

Pairing: HarvFinn

Rating: T

Ao3 Link

(Did two back to back conventions, so I forgot to update on Fri, but the chapters are up now!)

Finn rolled over to find Harv's side of the bed empty. He sat up with a start, the boxes and bags from last night had been thrown out. All the things he bought had been carefully arranged against the wall. He ran downstairs and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Harv sitting in the kitchen with a cup of tea. He hadn't run off in the middle of the night.

"Good morning, Harvey!" Finn said. He practically ran the rest of the way down the stairs. Harv jumped in his seat at the sudden intrusion. "Did you sleep well?" Harv's expression turned sullen, though he tried to mask it. He opened his mouth, then closed it, rethinking the answer too many times for Finn's comfort.

"Just a little different is all." Harv finally said. He waited until Finn had collected his own breakfast before continuing. "Can we, uh... Can we not go into town today?" Harv asked.

"Sure?" Finn couldn't fathom what else they would do though, considering most people took offense to his mother's magical sources of entertainment. It wasn't like they could just do nothing. Whatever it was had to be fun or interesting, otherwise it would just be them alone, talking. If Harv didn't have any fun doing that... "What did you have in mind?" Harv shrugged as he looked at his cup.

"I don't care, as long as there aren't other people involved."

"I-" Finn wanted to argue. Having nothing to do all day would drive him stir crazy, but he liked the idea that Harv wanted to be alone with him. "I guess we could always have a picnic. It's fairly safe across the lake." He hadn't been to that portion of the woods in years.

"Okay." Harv nodded along as Finn rambled off a list of what they'd need. He'd rather go alone, but it'd seem odd to abandon his host just so he could isolate himself in nature. He just needed a break from prying eyes. Finn polished off his breakfast and caught sight of his mother going toward the front door.

"Mother, where's that quilt the Radnar's gave us?" Finn asked. The witch turned to the two boys with a puzzled look, a large empty basket in her arms.

"What would you want that ugly thing for?"

"I need something that we could sit on outside." Finn said. "A little dirt might improve it now that I think about it."

"In the hall closet." His mother grinned and held out the basket towards him. "Since you already plan on going outside, you wouldn't mind picking up some bat tails while you're out. Sun-kissed, of course."

"But mother, I have a guest-"

"No buts mister, you've slacked off the last two days." Leenan said. Finn reluctantly took the basket. "The world doesn't stop just because you brought home a friend." She kissed his forehead. Harv felt a nostalgic pang in his gut at the sight. Leenan went back to her study, more than happy to kick off her foraging shoes in the process.

"Typical." Finn went to the linen closet in a huff, careful to keep his voice low. "Just because I'm going outside, doesn't mean I should have to do her chores. It's summer vacation."

-

Baby birds chirped their last few notes before leaving the nest. The wild roses, fat from last week's rainfall, signaled which path they needed to take. Something about the greenery and the smell of soil helped Harv clear his mind. It was relaxing, even with Finn determined to fill the silence with the sound of his own voice.

The bard clung to Harv's arm the whole walk. The blond would jump at the slightest sound from the underbrush, even though it was midday. It made walking difficult, but Harv hadn't the heart to shake the other boy off. This was an area of the woods where people had disappeared after all.

"It's just a little further." Finn shivered as the leaves blocked out the sun. As they breached the darkest part of the path, they came to a collection of wild citrus trees. "Keep a lookout." Finn peeled himself off of Harv's arm and ran to the nearest tree.

The branches of the tree had split into perfect ys as it had grown, making it the easiest to climb of the bunch. Finn pulled himself two thirds of the way up as easily as he would a ladder. The upper branches were always the trickiest for him to maneuver.

"I don't see any bats up here." Harv said. Finn almost lost his footing at the sound, Harv's voice much closer than he'd anticipated. Finn wildly flailed his arms and hugged the trunk of the tree. When he looked down over his shoulder, Harv was a few branches behind him.

"I told you to keep a lookout!"

"For what?" Harv said. "No one owns these trees and there are several ways down." Harv kept looking at the branches above them. Small green oranges were swaying in the breeze. Finn shook his head and kept climbing.

"Did you at least bring the basket with you?" Finn asked as he reached the upper branches.

"Yeah." Harv said. Finn's torso disappeared past the leaves. The blond picked stems from the nubile leaves at the top of the tree.

"Catch." Finn did his best to aim for the basket as he let the first fistful of stems fall. "'Tails' are stems." Finn explained. "Bergamont, B-T, Bat. Most potion ingredients are like that. Plants with ridiculous names." Mother hadn't said how much she needed this time, so he did his best to fill the basket halfway. He paused, looking out over the valley, a rich forest the king could only wish he could tax. It had to have changed quite a bit since he last felt safe outside.

"Finn?" Harv risked climbing higher to where Finn was. Though he couldn't find solid footing to get closer than Finn's waist. He was able to see how far the lake stretched, the sun glittering on the surface of the water. "Wow."

Finn looked down at Harv whose expression had softened for the first time in days. The sun was just starting to be warm enough to prickle at the skin and the wind too weak to pull at Harv's dreads. His eyes were the same color as the sky. This kind of mundane beauty never got reflected in any paintings Finn had seen, it was a shame.

Crack.

One of the branches beneath Harv's feet buckled under his weight. He reached out and clung to the nearest thing to catch his balance. Finn yelled as Harv's arms wrapped around his thighs, Harv's face buried in Finn's abdomen. They teetered, but eventually found their balance.

"Alright." Finn said and patted the top of Harv's head. "You have to let go so we can climb down." Harv pulled back a little and looked down, the ground seeming farther away than he remembered. "Just move slowly. Come on, we haven't got all day." Harv hesitated, moving one hand at a time before slowly retracing his steps. Finn swiveled around and scaled down the other side of the tree with ease.

"You make it look so easy." Harv said, still a few feet off the ground while Finn waited in the grass.

"I've had more practice compared to most." Finn shrugged. He had just assumed climbing exercises were part of warrior training, but maybe all they did was play with weapons. "Careful with the basket!" Finn caught it just before the contents dumped on the forest floor and took it from Harv. As soon as Harv got to the ground, he found Finn wrapped around his arm again. "Come on, let's go. We're not far enough yet." Finn eyed the path behind them with caution, now uncertain whether they'd been followed. All the noise they had made might have attracted unwanted attention.

"What about the 'tails'." Harv asked.

"Mother doesn't need them right away, she can wait a few hours." Finn said. He half pulled Harv up the path toward the lake. The sooner they got out of this area of the woods, the better.

-

They reached the spot Finn had picked out with little issue, the sun now burning bright in the sky. The sandwiches and quilt were quite nice, Harv decided, as he lay back to watch the clouds roll by. The heat of the day had soaked into his muscles in a pleasant way. At long last, he felt he didn't have to worry about how best to present himself. He was content to lay there, and maybe catch a quick nap, when something splashed into the water a few feet ahead. Finn's tunic and stockings lay in an indecent heap at the edge of the quilt, the blond nowhere in sight. Harv scrambled to sit up just as Finn's head emerged from the water.

"What are you doing?" Harv said. Save for a bandage around his middle, there was a good chance Finn wasn't wearing anything else. Granted, they were alone, but Harv's sense of shame told him not to be so vulnerable in unfamiliar areas.

"By all means, go back to your nap grandpa." Finn pushed his soaked hair out of his face and let the rest of his body go back underwater. "I can't lie there and do nothing while ants are all over the place looking for crumbs." They were harmless little creatures, but Finn loathed the idea of one of them crawling on his skin. Even though he'd only spotted one of two. "I can entertain myself." Harv thought about lying back down for a few more minutes, but it'd feel wrong to doze off while Finn was in the water.

"What if someone comes by?" Harv asked. His concern battled with envy at the body of cool water. Finn glided through the water closer to shore and leaned on his elbows in the shallows.

"No one comes this far around." Finn said, then smiled. "Why? Thinking of joining me?" Harv picked at the edge of his tunic. He hadn't brought anything to change into. Finn rolled his eyes. "No one will see you. Here, I'll even look away." He pushed himself back into the deep and faced the opposite shore. A small smile crossed his face when he heard the water get breached. "See, was that so hard?" He turned just as the water covered Harv's hips.

"You said you wouldn't look!" Harv said. His face darkened up to his ears as he sent a wave of water Finn's way.

"I thought you were in." Finn shielded himself from the splash with his arms. "I didn't see anything to be ashamed of!" Finn laughed when Harv splashed him again. Harv stopped attacking him once the water was up past his chest. He sulked, not wanting to look at the bard when he could still feel the heat of embarrassment on his face. Finn's laughter died down when he noticed the sapphire pendant still around Harv's neck, his hair was half pulled back and something about it made Finn's thoughts go fuzzy and hard to pin down.

"What?" Harv asked. Finn pulled his head under the water, the cold drink washing whatever bogged down his mind into something more coherent. He emerged again, a foot or two closer to get a better look. "What!?" Harv fidgeted as Finn went from inquisitive to wistful.

"It's a shame, the earrings would have looked nice with your hair like that." Finn said.

"It's just to keep it out of my face." Harv shook his head and swam toward the deeper waters. "You're too hung up on appearances." Finn gasped, the comment hitting a little too close to home.

"Me? What about you mister 'you said you wouldn't look'?" Finn huffed, he preferred to stay where his feet could touch the lakebed.

"That's different." Harv said. He couldn't be bothered to explain the knee jerk feeling of inadequacy that hit when all your classmates were twice your height and build. They were far away from anything resembling basic training, but he still disliked how soft his features were compared to warriors with half his strength.

"I fail to-" Finn realized he was out of earshot as Harv swam to a more secluded area with large rock formations. "Hey!" There was no way he'd be able to catch him up to him in the water, he wasn't that strong of a swimmer. He braved the shore, running to the rocks and a large overhang. As he stood on the edge, he saw Harv's brown hair as he swam toward the alcove. "I wasn't done talking to you." Harv glanced up and immediately averted his gaze.

"When are you done talking?" Harv muttered, but unfortunately the wind and the echoing rocks were not on his side.

"Oh, that's it!" Finn cannonballed into the water and doused Harv in the process. It took a moment to find his bearings, but he was able to locate the warrior. "I am not some insufferable thing for wanting you to have pleasant company." He got Harv's back up against the rock formation. "If you imply so again, so help me..." Finn faltered, the shadow of the rocks highlighted what little light danced along the surface of the water and Harv's sapphire. That same intrusive half-thought threatened to swallow Finn's frustration for a moment. "I-I'll drown you." Harv laughed at him.

"You, with that little splash?" Harv easily swam around Finn.

"Like you could do better." Finn huffed, able to regain his bearings.

"I could." Harv said, he flipped over into a backstroke to watch Finn fume in the shadows with a satisfied grin.

"Prove it." Finn pointed up at the overhang above him. His smile grew when Harv looked up at the ledge and back at Finn. That would mean getting back out of the water.

"...fine." Harv wouldn't let this smug little thing get the better of him. He swam over to the rocks away from Finn's line of sight to the shore. Running as fast as he could, he jumped off the overhang. The force of the wave pushed Finn back a few feet and he screamed with laughter. Harv resurfaced in the shade where Finn was busy finding air again. "See." Finn's smile fell at the sound of hooves on packed dirt and he hurriedly urged Harv to hold his tongue with wild gestures. The two held their breath as a cart passed by overhead. They had gotten too close to the road out of Cailburry. As soon as they knew their voices wouldn't carry, Harv shoved Finn away from him. "You said no one comes out this far!"

"Yeah, over there." Finn pointed in the direction of their picnic site. Harv started swimming in that direction, adrenaline pumping through his veins.

"If we get caught, I swear." He caught sight of Finn struggling to keep up the pace.

"We're not," Finn said, hungry for air in between phrases, "getting caught... They get-" He was finally able to get his toes into the lakebed, and walked until his chin no longer dipped below the water. "They get caught. This is mother's land, they'd be trespassing."

"Oh..." Harv relaxed a little, only to be plagued by even more questions. "How does she have land?" He swam next to Finn as the bard walked through the water back to camp.

"Same way the king does." Finn said with a shrug. "She pointed at the forest, said that's mine, and no one's been able to take it from her."

"I- hunh." Harv could see their blanket coming into view. "The whole forest?"

"Yeah, well most of it." Finn shuddered. "There's no bullying wild animals out of their homes." No one cared about this forest until after he and his mother moved in, or so he was told. It was hard to parse out what was his mother being facetious and what was fact. "I can't believe they came around right after you left the water." Finn started giggling again, and Harv pushed ahead to their blanket faster than Finn could walk. "You have to admit it's a little funny." Finn approached after Harv had his stockings back on. Finn started to pull out of the water when he noticed something was missing. He felt down his torso, unable to find the bandage that covered his scar. He moved his feet around the lakebed hoping to find something in the mud. He cursed himself if it had ended up snagged on the rocks half a mile back.

"What's wrong? Suddenly not so confident, are we?" Harv laughed, only to realize Finn was nowhere in sight. He was about to call out to him when a figure in the distance caught his eye. "Rhodri..." His brother ran up to him, with little time to take in the full situation.

"Harv!" Rhodri shouted. The loud noise caught Finn's attention, he waded closer, but hid behind a short stone just out of sight. "What are you wearing?" Rhodri reached for the pendant around Harv's neck. "Is that real?" Harv stepped out of his brother's reach.

"Go home Rhodri." Harv tried to covertly use the basket to cover Finn's clothes. The last thing he needed was for his younger brother to start throwing around accusations. He pulled his tunic over his head to hide the necklace.

"What's wrong with you?" Rhodri asked, quick to anger. "You up and leave without a word for three days, and the first thing you say to me is 'go home'. I don't know what cure that witch promised you-" He cut himself off when Harv froze, his breath shallow. "That's what dad said."

"That's funny," Harv said tersely, "because I had made it quite clear when I left that I was done looking for cures." He started packing up the rest of the things Finn had brought. He could feel the hurt he'd tried to compartmentalize bubble to the surface. "You know, I don't ask for much. So, it would be nice if the one time I asked for something, I wasn't ignored or had other words put into my mouth. Or at the very least, you could ask. Just ask me what's going on with me instead of asking other people."

"You left." Rhodri said. Harv couldn't ignore the hurt in his brother's voice. "Look, I get that it's hard, but I'm on your side. You don't think I know what they mean when they say I should find 'a nice Christian girl' to settle down with whenever I hang out with Emet? It's just... how they are." He sighed. "I can't help you if you keep hiding what's going on or when you're coming back" He caught sight of a blond watching him from the water with mesmerizing purple eyes.

"I'm not..." Harv couldn't quite put it into words now, not with Finn so close by.

"She's pretty," Rhodri waved at Finn, "mom would like her." Harv followed Rhodri's gaze to blond hiding in the water.

"He." Harv corrected. Rhodri noticed the purple clothes under the basket, how Harv had tried to put himself between the blond and Rhodri. "I don't want them involved, not after last time." His brother sighed dramatically, but otherwise seemed unbothered.

"Can I at least let them know you're okay?"

"You can tell mom." Harv started to urge Rhodri back down the path so Finn could change. "I just don't want you getting in trouble over me."

Finn couldn't pick up the rest of their conversation. Which was a shame, but he was grateful to cover his scar before Harv could make fun of him for it. After he was fully dressed, Harv rejoined him and casually offered his arm. Finn stared at it blankly at first before tentatively taking Harv's hand and pressing the warrior's arm against his chest. It was different, getting permission to touch him rather than instinctually clinging to the warrior like a security blanket. He let his cheek rest against Harv's shoulder as they walked in silence. After hours of being in the water, they might as well have had weights strapped to their legs.

"Are you.." Finn swallowed. "Are you going to be in trouble for hanging out with me?" They kept walking, Harv's silence feeling more and more like a death sentence to their friendship.

"Yeah." He said. "It's not your fault though." Finn squeezed Harv's arm, waiting for a rejection that never came. "Do you want me to wake you up tomorrow?" Finn laced his fingers between Harv's.

"Yeah."

-

In the wee hours of the morning, Finn woke up with a start, the cold nipping at his legs. He rolled away from his corner to burrow in the mass of comforters that Harv pulled to his side of the bed in his sleep. The blankets were half on the floor for some reason. Finn tried to pull them back so there was enough to share, but part of it was pinned under Harv's unconscious weight.

"Harv?" Finn tentatively whispered. No response. He gently shook the other, and again nothing in response. If it wasn't for the heat radiating from his back, Finn would have assumed something was wrong. He grumbled nonsense to himself as he felt around looking for where the blankets were trapped. By the time he found where Harv's shoulder pinned the covers, it was too late. Finn was awake.

He propped himself up, his arm loosely around Harv's chest. How the other could sleep through getting pushed with the morning light in his face was beyond Finn's imagination. Finn carefully moved some of Harv's dreads out of his face. He frowned, not feeling the same flutter in his chest he had the other day. Perhaps it was just a fluke, but if that was the case, what had caused it? He laid back down and pressed his forehead between Harv's shoulder blades.

Harv was risking quite a bit by staying at Finn's house, which was flattering and at the same time concerning. People usually ran at the first sign of trouble, but not Harv, Harv chose to stay. The previous gifts he'd thrown at Harv seemed shallow by comparison. There had to be something else he could do for him. Something big or special, a kind of thing that would make risking his relationship with his family worth it. Like nabbing a fox for him.

"Wake up Harvey!" Finn shot up, now more excited than ever. He flicked on all the lights and dumped the covers on the floor. Harv slept through it, not so much as rolling over. "For the love-" Finn grabbed him by the ankle and tried to pull him onto the floor. He managed to get him half onto the floor, before he hadn't the strength left to pull with. "Seriously?" Sure, mother could get him to wake up with a start, but when Finn wanted him to wake it was a battle of wills. He went downstairs and threw bacon in a pan. Once the strips sizzled, he carried the pan upstairs into the room. Harv immediately stirred. "That's more like it." Harv looked at the covers on the floor and back at Finn with a disoriented scowl.

"What happened?" Harv rubbed the sleep from his eyes, slowly able to focus once more.

"Uhh, sleep... rolling?" Finn fumbled. "What matters is you're awake now." Harv pulled himself out of bed and threw the blankets back where they belonged. He reached for the food in the hot pan, only to get slapped on the wrist. "This is wake-up bacon, not eating bacon."

"Why can't it be both?" He saw the undercooked strips and frowned. "Oh."

"We can put it back on the stove." Finn said as he rolled his eyes. "It's best to eat a hearty breakfast beforehand, the place we'll be going to today has really slow service. I had to wait forty minutes for a drink once, but it's worth it, trust me." Harv followed Finn downstairs, even more confused than before.

"Finn, I know you like outings, but I'd rather not be seen." Harv literally couldn't go a single day without running into someone he didn't want to talk to, it was starting to grate on his nerves. Yesterday had almost been perfect too.

"Oh, trust me, this place is super hush hush." Finn said. He dropped the pan back on the stove with a grin. "Very few people know about it, and even if you do, you'd need to know the password." He could see this perked Harv's curiosity as he gathered some bread. "The atmosphere is divine; we could spend the whole day there and then come straight home for dinner."

"I guess..." Harv gathered a plate of his own.

"Trust me Harv, you'll want to see it."

-

The market that day was as busy as ever, with people leisurely enjoying the afternoon at various pubs and stands. Harv followed close behind Finn, thankful that for once, people seemed too busy to care where he was going. They entered a small teashop, with odd paintings on the wall. Finn strode up to the counter with a mischievous smile.

"Dreadful weather we're having, I'd prefer if it were cloudy." Finn said. The server sighed, not too surprised.

"Indeed, hopefully it passes." The server replied. Finn turned and gave Harv a thumb's up just as the warrior was about to pick a table for them.

"Well don't just sit there, come on." Finn led him through the back hall. Harv wasn't the strongest reader, but even he could tell when a place was meant for employees only.

"Finn, we can't." Harv whispered.

"Oh, it's fine, they said we could." Finn waved off Harv's concern as they approached a dry fountain built into the wall. The bard puzzled a bit before twisting the tail of the stone mermaid two times and moving her hand away from her face. There was a click and Finn was able to push the whole wall open like a door. "Pretty cool, right?" They slipped inside a dimly lit lounge. There were low tables surrounded by plush seats and a bar at the back of the room. In the opposite corner, a pianist lazily played. There were only about five other patrons, all quietly chatting at their own tables. "See? Super lowkey right?" He dragged Harv to a table, though instead of sitting across from him, he chose to stay at Harv's side on the couch against the wall.

Harv marveled at the framed pieces of music and the wall of colorful bottles. The small tealight at their table had been freshly lit, as if someone was expecting him. He could see food getting passed through a hole in the wall next to the bar. Everything about this place seemed isolated from the outside world.

"It's nice." Harv agreed. He picked up a menu. The drinks were made with sweet potatoes and other odd ingredients that didn't sound drinkable, if he could read them at all. What little food there was sounded good, but the minute Harv noticed the price he set down the menu and looked straight ahead. One bowl of humus cost the same as three months worth of provisions. Finn took the menu none the wiser.

"What are you getting? I always have trouble deciding, people will put wine in anything these days and I can't stand the bitterness."

"I'm not getting anything." Harv whispered, not sure if they'd get kicked out should he refuse to buy. "I can't afford it."

"I can." Finn said. Two of the drinks looked like they might be good. "If you don't want to pick something, I can just get both of these and you can take the one I like the least. How about that?" Harv shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"You've already spent too much on me this week." Harv said. The bard looked at him as if he'd grown a second head.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize you had a price." He poked Harv's cheek. "And how much, pray tell, would be 'enough' for a week? I'm curious."

"I- I don't know." Harv decided it was better to lock eyes with the candle on the table then Finn right now. "Nothing, I guess."

"Well, if I'm over spending, I might as well throw caution to the wind." Finn shrugged and tried to make eye contact with one of the servers. "You realize how ridiculous you sound. No one's worth 'nothing'." He was passed over for patrons in a larger party that came in after them. "This always happens. Excuse me!" The server looked at him with a start. "When you're done, we're ready to order." Harv was practically hiding his face in his hands.

"Why did you do that?" Harv mumbled between his fingers.

"Because we're ready." Finn said. He rattled off his order to the waiter before relaxing against the couch. "You have to speak up for yourself, or people will think you're content with the way things are. You should be taking notes." Harv scowled a little, sitting up so he could turn to face Finn.

"Why?" Harv asked. He had a feeling Finn was up to something based on how much the bard fidgeted and grinned. Finn grabbed his arm and pulled him close so he could whisper in the warrior's ear.

"Don't stare, but take a look around at the people." He could feel Finn smile against his jaw. Harv looked at the pairs, nothing terribly out of the ordinary. One pair of men sitting at the bar had similar shirts, and one arm around the other's waist. "I said don't stare." Finn snickered as he sat back, looking at Harv expectantly. Harv, in turn, was more confused than ever. "It's a perfect place for a date, don't you think?" Finn said, feeding the words to Harv and laughing when the warrior blushed.

"I- But we-" Harv's brain refused to piece together the rush of emotions that hit him. Never in his life had he been asked on a date. Had Finn honestly liked him that way and he was just too dense to tell? No, it had to be a joke of some kind. He barely knew the bard, besides if the point was to hide, they could have stayed at home. It was a lot to take in at once. "Why would you bring me here?"

"Like you could find this place by yourself." Finn elbowed him with a wry smile. "I'll show you all the ropes, and then you can impress that little 'friend' of yours. It at the very least should help you set the tone without too much talking." Finn leaned forward with his chin on his hands, and waited for some kind of response. Harv blinked and looked back at the couples, the wheels in his head churning once more.

This wasn't a date. Which was a little disappointing, much to Harv's surprise. At least now he didn't have to worry about it being too awkward. Or at least, a more familiar kind of awkwardness as Finn once again tried to stick his nose into Harv's personal life.

"Trevor's not like me." Harv said. Flattered as he was that Finn wanted to help, there were some things that no amount of matchmaking could make up for.

"Did he tell you that himself?" Finn asked.

"Well, no." Harv rubbed the back of his neck. "I mean, he didn't have to, you can just tell sometimes."

"Ah, so he had a girlfriend already." Finn sighed.

"Well, no."

"A girl he fancies then."

"...no..." Harv could feel Finn creeping into his personal space with that same mischievous grin. "Finn, I'd rather not get my hopes up over nothing."

"There you go again with this 'nothing' business." Finn had the sense to hold his tongue as the server delivered their drinks. They certainly were fancy little things. "Right now you're acting as if you've already been told 'no' and avoiding him. So nothing will change if you ask and get turned down, but it might not be a no."

"Finn, it's fine. Things are fine the way they are." He hated how obvious it sounded when he lied. Especially with Finn lifting a brow at him as if reading a book. "Can't you just let this go?"

"But I want you to be happy." Finn sipped his drink and cringed, handing it over to Harv. A wine by any other name was still wine after all. "It's not fair that everyone else gets to walk around like nothing's wrong and you're stuck jumping at every set of eyes. Nothing I've tried has seemed to work so far either."

"Finn..." It was more complicated than that, but he appreciated the effort nonetheless. "I'll think about it. Right now I'm worried about other things." Like what he was going to do once their little 'sleepover' was finished. Finn spun his glass around and Harv could see him coming up with other plans in his head. "This place is nice, I appreciate it." The compliment seemed to stop Finn's scheme dead in its tracks. "Where did you hear about it?"

"Oh from Shad and..." Finn paused as he saw someone familiar enter the bard. "Beatus." The red head recognized him right away and sat at one of the chairs across from them. "You weren't invited." He cozied up next to Harv, trying to keep his face as neutral as possible.

"I tried stopping by your house yesterday, you weren't there." Beatus said dryly.

"Or really?" Finn said.

"Shad wants to form a band, but his lyrics are..." Beatus rolled his hand in circles, trying to think of the right word.

"Cringey? An unrealistic gooey slog?" Finn offered.

"Mainstream." Beatus said. "If you promise not to micromanage everything, again, there's a spot for you." Finn was grinning ear to ear. So now they needed him, took them long enough to realize what they were missing out on. It wasn't enough to have Beatus asking for his help though, he wanted both of them to crawl on their bellies for his forgiveness.

"And what does Shad think?"

"Shad's out voted." Beatus said. Oh that was delicious, if he revealed to Shad that his best friend went behind his back, they'd be at each other's throats! It would be hard to demand forgiveness and get poetic revenge at the same time, he'd have to pick one. But then, he wouldn't have time for his other plans.

"I'm actually kind of busy at the moment." Finn said as he squeezed Harv's arm. "I might have more time in a few weeks, I need time to think." Beatus shrugged and got up from the table. He flipped his hair and walked up to the bar.

"I guess he was done talking?" Harv said with a frown. Finn buried his face in Harv's arm, he had to keep his cool with Beatus still in the room. It was just so dang exciting.

-

When they left the speakeasy, Finn was on cloud nine, babbling excitedly to Harv about his new 'options'. Both of which confused Harv, after all, just earlier this week he'd felt so used up he threw their stuff at their feet. Supposedly that was just how show business worked. The longer he went on, the clearer it became that Finn wanted Harv to be there for rehearsals. If nothing else, to hear him play in a 'proper' performance. They were halfway through the market when he saw his parents at the apple stand.

"Finn, we need to go, now." Harv grabbed Finn's hand and tried to run, but Finn was slow on the uptake. He walked a little faster, but not remotely close to the break neck speed needed to escape. The stall owner pointed in their direction. Harv seriously considered picking Finn up and running, but that would create more of a scene.

"Harv?" His mother called.

"Finn, come on." Harv pulled again and Finn started running with him. His father chased after them, almost pushing people out of the way. "This is why I didn't want to go into town!" They made a wrong turn and found themselves in an alleyway, the walls too high to scale. Harv was grabbed by the elbow and pulled out of Finn's grasp.

"Get behind me Harv, that foul creature won't come any closer." Roland said. Finn looked behind him, but no one was there. When he looked back Roland was holding a crucifix in his direction.

"You're joking, right?" Finn leaned to the side to make eye contact with Harv. "Right?"

"Sorry Finn." Harv said and tried to take back his arm. "Dad let go."

"It'll be okay." Roland said. "We'll have your mother mix up some Saint John's Wort tea and then-"

"I'm not under a spell!" Harv wrenched his arm free. "And I'm not going back." He ran back towards the witch's house, hoping Finn would forgive him for leaving him behind.

"Harvey!" Finn was able to get around Roland with ease. It wasn't like a tacky crucifix would do anything to harm him. "You really need to work on your manner sir." Finn said over his shoulder before chasing after Harv.

-

Once they got back to the house, Harv went straight to Finn's room. He paced back and forth anxious, but mostly angry. Sure he had run away, but did his father really have immediately jump to the worst conclusion. It was going to take more than a few days for them to change their minds, that was clear. But how long would it take? If ever. He heard the door open as Finn tentatively poked his head in.

"I told you so many times." Harv fumed. "I know you're trying to help. But now, it's too late, he's seen you! He knows where I am. Things are only going to get worse."

"Harvey..." Finn didn't want to get too close to Harv when he was this angry. There was so much going on he just didn't understand. "Did you run away from home?" Harv stopped pacing, his shoulders tense. He mustered a curt nod, but didn't face the other boy. "Do you have a place to stay after..." It was making more sense now, why Harv asked how long he could stay. The warrior shook his head 'no'. "I'll talk to mother." As he spoke, Harv slowly turned to look at him. "I know she won't mind, but it'll mean finding a more permanent place for your things and maybe chores." He could easily see Harv getting roped into moving furniture around for arbitrary reasons.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course, I'm sure. It's my idea, isn't it?" Finn said. He was surprised when Harv hugged him, taking the air out of his lungs in the process. Harv had never voluntarily touched him before. It was different, and way too short for Finn's liking. "Besides, we still have our plans. I'll be damned if you get snatched away from me before we can go to the opera."

[mud-castle]

In the dark mirror au, have their been instances were kittypet queens kinda just expect their kits to be taken and make sure that they're ready? Like, Thunderclan breaks into a Twoleg nest and instead of fighting the queen, she's just like "I've got two mollies and a tom, one of the mollies is a little small, though I think she's big enough to still go with you. I gave them forest-y names; Pebble, Fern, and Sparrow, please let them keep their names as a final gift from their mother." Has something like that ever happened?

Wow, that's depressing...

So, I must put it in:

Story below the cut:

Paprika was a fool.

She had known of the raids the forest cats sometimes launched on the neighborhood cats. She had known of the kits that had been stolen and of mothers and fathers who had been injured when they tried to protect them.

Yet, she had also known that the raids were rare, more often done on loners, rogues, and city cats. The forest cats didn't want to draw the ire of the humans by attacking their pets too often. Rather, their attacks on the neighborhood were more often made at those who had strayed too close to their beloved trees.

So, Paprika had dismissed the concerns of her friend Trixie when she'd told her of her plans to have kits. The last raid the forest cats had been just about a month ago. Often, they only happened two or three times a year. Paprika had seen a number of kittens born, grow, and be given their own housefolk.

Paprika had always wanted kits, little ones running around under her paws. She'd daydreamed of the things she would teach them. Like, the best places to sharpen your claws, the names of types of birds that came around the feeder, how to get your housefolk to scratch the itch you couldn't reach, and so much more. And, like the idiot she was, she'd decided that it was safe to finally have her own.

She'd been given birth to three precious kittens three months later. Two mollies and a tom. Two weeks went by without issue. Parenting was a little harder than she anticipated, but with the help of her housefolk, she took to it rather easily. The kittens had opened their eyes and ears and explored the world that was the basket in the kitchen.

A week later, a forest cat had been spotted four houses from her own. It had simply walked along the fence, looking into houses, and disappeared about an hour later. Paprika kept a closer eye on her kittens. They had begun to babble, weakly attempting to mimic her own words.

Two nights after that, the cat was seen again. Two houses from her own. It had done the same thing, watching the houses, before going off once again. Paprika decided to stay in the house instead of spending her mornings and evenings outside chatting with the neighborhood cats and dogs. Her kits had started mewing their first word. "Mama"

Two nights later, Paprika was awoken by nothing. Her kittens lay sound asleep next to her. She gave each of them a lick on the head, heart warming as they purred contently. Her housefolk had gone to bed a little earlier than usual. She could hear him snoring away. With a yawn, she turned her head towards the window. She froze.

Wide, orange eyes locked onto narrowed, green ones. Paprika had never seen a forest cat before. It was big, far bigger than her. She couldn't see much of its details as it had its back turned to the light of the moon. But she could see its eyes slide over to where her kittens were nestled against her, and the glint of fangs as its mouth parted into a wide, wicked grin.

Paprika bristled, alarm shooting through her body. She turned in the direction of her housefolk's room, wondering if she could wake him up before the forest cat could try anything. But when she turned back to the window, it was gone. Paprika didn't go back to sleep.

Rage hit first, then indignance, then helplessness. There was nothing she could do to protect her kittens. She'd personally seen the wounds on cat who had fought back. The forest cats never killed them, but they left some wishing they had. She plead for help, but no one would. Many cats turned their noses, sneering that she deserved it for making such a idiotic decision. Others simply gave her a pitying look, unwilling to risk their lives for a pawful of kits. They told her to accept her fate. Some of the dogs had wanted to help, but were unable to escape their backyards. Deep down she'd known better than to bother asking.

So, she did the one thing she could think of. She prepared her kittens for the inevitable. She made up stories of strong, noble cats who fought monsters in the woods. She taught them a hunting a crouch as best as she could. They began to speak in full sentences. They played games like "Hunter" where one of them was a mouse and the others had to catch them, or "Battle" where their made up groups fought off monsters.

It took longer than she thought, about a month later. But, she wasn't surprised when one night when her housefolk had gone out they appeared in the kitchen , eyes gleaming, claws flexing. No doubt prepared for a fight. They were big, and their pelts were unnaturally glossy and sleek. Paprika eyed each one, a spotted molly, a light gray tom, and the cat she'd seen in the window. His jaw was scarred and crooked.

She sighed quietly, numbness overtaking her body. She nudged her kittens to the strange cats, ignoring the confused squeaks of protest. The foresters blinked at her in surprise, expecting her to fight back or at least run.

"These are my kits," she began quietly, "there are two mollies and a tom."

She nudged the first kit, a dark tabby molly. "This one is Sparrow, she's the eldest." The bold kit swatted at the spotted she-cat when she bent to pick her up. The wild cat withdrew, hissing slightly, before snatching her up roughly.

"Ow!" Sparrow cried, "Mama! She's hurting me!"

Paprika flinched, but nosed her second kit, "He is Fern, the second oldest." Fern, took a slight step back, glancing back warily.

"Mama?"

He didn't fight when the gray tom picked him up, gentler than the spotted one had been with Sparrow.

A lump had begun to form in her throat by the time she turned to her youngest, the runt. "This is Pebble, she's the youngest. She's a little small but-" she paused to choke back sob, "but, I think she's strong enough to make the journey."

None of the cats moved. The crooked jawed tom stared at the kitten for a long moment. Finally, he sneered, speaking for the first time, "Scrap couldn't even survive a stiff wind." He flicked his tail, and the other two cats moved towards the door.

A strange mix of relief and guilt made Paprika's legs quiver. She quickly took her littlest one back to the basket, almost afraid he'd change his mind if she took too long. Her other kittens cried for her as they were taken away from the basket, away from their home, away from her. She curled her paws around her littlest one, not daring to face the foresters again, unable to face the looks of betrayal her kittens were surely throwing her.

She heard a scoff from behind her, the spotted molly, "I told you kittypets were cowardly, they won't even defend their own kits."

"She'll just have more later." The crooked jawed tom answered breezily, "Probably won't even remember these ones."

Another voice, the gray tom, "Next time she should mate with a stronger tom. These tiny things are hardly worth the effort."

Their voices grew muffled as they left through the cat flap.

She looked to the little kitten they had left her. Pebble. Paprika's lips curled back at the name. Never would this little one be taken from her. She would not touch the land beyond the fence or fight over a pile of bones. Paprika wanted her to never have any association with the wild cats. This little kit would never know hunger, or bloodshed, or anything outside of the housefolk's protection. And she certainly wouldn't bear the name of anything from that wretched forest.

She clutched her littlest one close, her rage giving way to grief. She finally allowed her tears to fall, for sobs to shake her shoulders. How could she have been so stupid?

"Mama?" her kitten mewed, pawing at her face in concern, "Are you okay? Mama?"

"Next time" the gray tom had said.

Next time?

There wouldn't be a next time.

[the-heaminator]

It was warm today, bright sun on his feathers, he was particularly frivolous today, he had preened himself and washed himself in the bowl, there were some very pretty crows flitting around the garden, it was breeding season after all, and in his long life, unnaturally long, though he didn't fully realise it, it always went like this, he settled down, made a nest, made a family, and again, and again, he noticed somewhat that his breeding partner always lived longer than the other crows, but she always ended up dying.

He didn't die. It wasn't fair.

He wouldn't think about that right now, right now it was time to start anew, yes. Yes it was, he called out. This would be the last time. Yes it would be.

If feelings could kill, Arthur would murder with sheer apathy, but he always got a little better in spring and summer, normally he couldn't care less about most things, and she knew this, but it was sort of nice to see some light return to his eyes.

He loved his crows dearly, he loved her dearly, he loved her brothers dearly, he loved his cat dearly.

Those were possibly the only things keeping him sane, she didn't know, couldn't be sure with him. But she did love her birds, so it wasn't too much of a far stretch to think that the little feathered creature that had been his for over a millennia would be close to his heart, regardless of what material it was made of at the moment, he was watching them, Christopher was he called?

It would make more sense to call a robin that, Christopher robin, but that crow had been around when she was a child, it was an oddly affectionate bird, all things considered, and he used to love sitting on the headboard of any chair or sofa she was sitting on, especially in the library during winter, watching over her, it was a little ominous yes, but he never did anything to her, it was like he was reading over her shoulder. She swore he understood everything they said.

Arthur spoke up, his voice was oddly hoarse, according to Rhys he had just been on a bender a week or so ago, and it showed, his hair had still a vague tinge of green, he looked a little more worse for wear than usual in general "How long do crows normally live Eleanor?"

That was an odd question, and something she was sure Arthur already knew the answer to, he was staring out the window, he seemed a little absent at the moment, nursing a now warm cup of tea, he was odd today, but she said nothing of it.

"Round 10 or so years in the wild, nearly 60 in captivity. Why?"

Flat, "Nothing, just wanted to know."

There was something off about him but she couldn't place what.

She asked slowly, like one would do to a frightened cat, oddly enough those similarities had always been there, even as he supposedly calmed down, still a little feral, especially when in such moods "How long have you had Christopher anyways?"

He looked at her, rather looked through her for a moment before bringing himself to look at her face, he looked tired, she usually didn't feel worried for him, that would be a waste unless he was physically hurling his guts up so much he couldn't stand, but he had just been off for a while now.

"Hmm, it's been a while, a thousand years at least, why do you ask?"

She looked out at him preening and looking pretty, a thousand years or more was a long time, she couldn't really fathom such a timescale, and crows were smart animals, they experienced grief just like humans, how many mates had he run through over the centuries, crows lived a long time naturally if give the right conditions, and under the influence of another immortal creature, they lived longer still. But they still did die.

Crows were social animals, generations often visited their parents, how would Christopher feel, how would he know really, that he would always outlive his children.

Yet he kept at it, flirting with many an inquisitive female, Arthur seemed to be thinking along the same lines, they were both quite similar in a lot of respects, foul temper, snarky, blunt, acidic, many had pointed it out, a love for birds somehow wheeled its way through too, but she was much younger, far, far younger; she couldn't read his face like he could read hers, he shut everything down sometimes, like Matthew did.

tagging ahhh @germanyskrazythiccass @disneyprincessdxminatrix @kitaychan and @apersonwholikeslotus

Share a wip of yours! no pressure though

thanking @needcake for making me dig through a pile of wips to pick one i actually like enough to share :')

︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ .*

“Are you sure you want to go alone? I can come with you, meet you there tomorrow.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I’m sure we’ll be fine,” Henrique replied as he tried to focus on changing lanes mid-sentence. Once he was safely over, he resumed his conversation with Arthur over the phone, and said, "Besides, I don't think he'd be thrilled to see you at the door, of all people. No offence."

"None taken," Arthur assured him. "I wouldn't be there for him, though. Remember that. If you need me at any point, just tell me. I’ll be right over.”

Henrique didn’t want to tell him how silly he sounded over the phone. It was a kind gesture, though entirely unnecessary. He would be fine. All he was doing was visiting Antonio for a week and… doing whatever he could to make him feel better.

‘I don’t know what to do. You said to call you if I ever felt— Well, lost, right? And I’m lost, Henrique. I-I’m so lost right now…’

The words heard only that morning crept up on him, came to hang around his shoulders like a heavy scarf. He’d woken up to a voicemail left for him in the middle of the night. And as soon as he’d heard it, he’d called Antonio back and had arranged to spend a week with him—even if Antonio had protested and insisted he was fine, that he’d been drinking, that he didn’t need the company…

…Frankly, that had only made Henrique pack his bags quicker.

“Let me know once you get there, won’t you?”

Henrique refocused on the road (he was glad it was quiet) and said to Arthur, “I will. Maybe not right away, but… I’ll text you.”

“As long as. That’s all I can ask for,” Arthur replied. 

There was a moment, then, in which Henrique thought Arthur would say more. The pause was not quite a pause—not quite a finale. But, if he did want to say more, he didn’t. Instead, he told Henrique to drive safely, and promised to speak to him soon.

Henrique did not force further conversation. Perhaps, for the sake of himself and other road users, it was for the best.

With an hour left of his journey, the only company Henrique allowed himself was the radio. Some of the songs he knew, and others, he was less familiar with. At least they helped pass the time, singing words that were seldom appropriate for how he felt, but that seemed to do their best to uplift him.

In turn, with time passed signs—so many signs pointing him towards all the wrong cities, the wrong towns, the wrong places. He needed a sign that took him directly to Antonio, the fastest route available. He had a route mapped in his mind but even as he followed it, the thought lingered: what if there's a faster way?

Henrique was worried.

︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ .*

tagging @the-heaminator, @froggi-mushroom, @ellavei, @peppermint-chocolate-cherries (if none of you mind being tagged akzkwkxka)

[elizabethemerald]

Fall Anniversary at the Soltryce Academy

Caleb walked into his classroom at the Soltryce Academy with the immediate instinct that something was wrong. He had been teaching Transmutation theory and application in this same class room for the past twenty years, so anything that seemed different set off alarms in his head. 

He mentally checked the wards on the class room and found them intact. There were a few students in their seats, a few more filtering into the lecture hall, by the second. None of them seemed alarmed. Whatever was different today did not appear to be an immediate threat. 

Still just to be safe he subtly cast Detect Magic as he set his bag down and took off his coat. Immediately a few points were highlighted in his mind. Of course his own magical items, the amber around his neck and the amulet beside it, the ring on his finger, the chalk he had enchanted to help him lecture. Nothing off there. 

There were a few points of magic around the rest of the room, each quickly analyzed and dismissed. Transmutation magic on a small pile of coins near the wall, a low level student’s practice project. Abjuration magic in the wards along the walls. Divination magic in a button, another spying device Astrid had tried to sneak into his class room to keep him from teaching against the school’s policies. 

It was the illusion spells that caught his attention. A few of the students were covered in the same, linked illusion. Their appearance normal enough to blend in, but also entirely too normal for a real student. And there, a student he didn’t recognize even with his keen mind, covered in an illusion spell. Several other magical objects of varying power, hidden under the spell. The Vestige appeared to be within its pocket dimension, so at least they hadn’t brought a weapon onto campus. 

After setting down his things and greeting his class he squeezed past a few of the students to grab Astrid’s enchanted button. He quickly dispelled it and slipped it into an envelope to return to her later. As he returned to the front he gave the cat sitting on his desk a brief scratch. 

“Hello Jester.” He said. Of course he didn’t need Detect Magic telling him of the cat’s aura of Transmutation to know his friend. She was bright blue after all and staring at him far more smugly than even a magic fey cat would. 

“Now class, I know we were discussing transmutation principles as applied to effecting the elements around you, but I am afraid that lesson will have to be postponed. It would seem that it is the anniversary of the Mighty Nein getting together and they have decided to invite themselves to my class.”

There was a muttering around the class room as the students looked at each other, before one of them near the front stood up, the illusion dropping off her form as she did so. 

“I told you he wouldn’t fall for it!” Veth said in her high voice, She looked mostly unchanged from when they first brought her back to her proper body. A few more laugh lines, but nothing more to show the passing two decades. “Lebby, is an amazing wizard, he wouldn’t fall for something simple like that. You students better appreciate the skill of your teacher.”

Caleb smiled fondly as Veth walked up to the front to give him a hug. Interspersed through the seats a few more illusion spells dropped. A half elven man walked up from the front row and kissed him on the cheek. Essek’s own illusion lasting even as he dismissed the Seeming on Kingsley and Yasha. 

“How did they rope you into this?” Caleb whispered to Essek. 

“Oh you know I can’t resist a practical joke.” Essek maintained his deadpan delivery for only a few seconds before a small smile graced his lips. Caleb knew quite well that Essek looked as ageless as ever, under his illusion. His elven blood would keep him looking much the same for the next few centuries. Caleb returned the kiss, to the muttering of his students. They weren’t ever a 100% sure who Caleb’s rotating cast of elven boyfriends were, and Caleb was more than happy to keep them in the dark. 

“Well you can’t fault us for trying!” Kingsley said. They were wearing a scandalously low cut shirt, a pair of plain black pants, and a pair of thigh high boots. His purple hair was fading to a less vibrant shade just a bit near his ears and he had a larger collection of scars, as one would expect from years of piracy and being a bloodhunter. They were also wearing their sword much to Caleb’s disapproval, which was apparently not magical. 

“You can’t expect me to hide this glorious look without magic though can you?” He said, sliding his hands down to his hips then back up his torso. Then he grabbed Caleb’s chin and kissed him full on the mouth, with tongue for several seconds, while his students lost their collective minds. Caleb smiled against Kingsley’s lips right before the tiefling stepped back. He was sure the rumor mill of the school would go wild about that for a few weeks. He wished he could see the look on Master Beck’s face when the news came across her desk. “Here’s to another twenty years, magic man.”

Yasha and Caduceus walked up next, each giving Caleb a tight hug. These two showed their age the least of the non elven members of the Nine. Cad could have been just stepping out of the temple doors in the Blooming Grove, saying that he had only three cups, if it weren’t for the increased presence of lichens and mosses of all kinds on his clothes and armor. Caleb was fairly certain there was an actual bird’s nest in his pink hair. Yasha of course looked as badass and muscular as she had when they first found her. Her hair was completely white, done up in an ornate braid. Home life seemed to suit her well, she looked genuinely happy and relaxed like she certainly hadn’t when they had first gotten together. 

Fjord’s spell dropped as well. The half orc’s hair had large stripes of gray in it, he had crows feet at the corners of his eyes, and his salt and pepper beard had significantly more salt to it now. He still looked good, life at sea, despite its hardships, keeping him fit. He laughed at something over Caleb’s shoulder as he approached and he found himself lifted bodily into the air by a pair of muscular blue arms. 

Jester having dropped her polymorph spun him around briefly in the hug before setting him back on his feet. She would never fail to look divine. Her horns now curling in on themselves, almost like her mother’s had when they first met her. Her hair is pulled back into a pony tail, poofing out behind her head from the salt air. Her sailing days were certainly not hurting her in anyway. Her smile was still just as wide, her eyes just as sharp, and her arms just as strong, if not more so. 

“Happy anniversary Caleb! Twenty years ago you were a stinky wizard. Now you are here teaching!” Jester’s happiness in her voice carried to every corner of the lecture hall. 

“What happened to our plan of drinks in Nicodranas this evening?”

“I just couldn’t wait Cay-leb.” She pouted. “Fjord and I got into port early, and I was so bored.”

Caleb smiled at her, then looked around at the rest of the Nein, pretending to count. 

“We appear to be one short. Where is my sister? Couldn’t drag her away from the Cobalt training pit? Or did she get lost in a book like some kind of nerd?” Caleb said with a smirk.

“Mother fucker!” 

He looked up towards the voice above him, just in time to watch Beauregard drop from the ceiling, to land on his desk with a perfect three point landing. She hopped off the desk and punched his arm, before also grabbing him in a tight hug. 

“I am not a nerd, Widogast!” She snapped, a wide grin on her face. 

“Beauregard, please do not land on my desk. It was a gift and I don’t think it could bare too many impacts like that.” He stopped to look up at the vaulted ceilings of the class room. “Also, how did you get up there?”

If she had been invisible she would have tripped the wards on the class room. And if she had gone in the brief break between classes one of the early students would have noticed her and caused a stir. 

Beau took her turn to smirk. 

“I have been waiting up there for four hours so we could surprise you. It’s surprisingly comfortable. I could have gone another couple of hours without breaking a sweat.” She paused to flex, causing several students, and Yasha to blush at her muscles. 

Beauregard’s monk training meant that she looked like she hadn’t aged a day since Aeor. And she could still easily out fight everyone else in the room if she wanted to. She was also the one member of the Nein that Caleb saw the most frequently. Their work to root out corruption among the Cerberus Assembly, and other bodies of power in the Empire often kept them up together late into the night, until Yasha would intervene and throw her wife over her shoulder to carry her to bed. 

“Can I finish the lesson, or should we depart immediately?” Caleb asked, already guessing the answer. 

“Cayyyllleeeb.” Jester groaned, pulling at her face. “I’m sooooo bored. I want to drink and party already!”

Caleb turned back to his class of students. He was sure most of them had heard rumors about Professor Widogast and the wild adventures he got up to with the Mighty Nein back when they first got together. He wasn’t sure how much they actually believed, but he was sure that even the most widely blown out of proportion tale didn’t even begin to cover the truth of what they had done together. 

“In honor of the anniversary of this group of arschlochs finding each other, consider this to be a free day. Keep up on your readings, and if you have any questions I will be at my regular office hours tomorrow morning.” 

The students immediately started buzzing as they stood and packed. No doubt during tomorrow’s class he would have to field a whole host of questions about the Nein, and that was just the way he liked it. The day after the anniversary was the one day he would talk about what his family had done. As the class filtered out, with many a lingering glance thrown at the colorful group at the front, Caleb turned to Essek, setting the envelope with Astrid’s button in it on the table top to deal with later. 

“Would you like to teleport us to the beach, or shall I?”

Essek put up both hands. 

“I already used my spell slots getting us all back together again. You can bring us to the coast.” Essek said, his smile a mix between smug and fond. 

Caleb rolled his eyes before pulling him into a soft kiss. Then he turned to address the rest of the Nein. The family he had made for himself. 

“Are we ready?” After a series of nods, he pulled an ancient clay turtle from his pocket and gave it a squeeze. “Then let’s go!”

And they were off, to a night of drinks and celebration and stories told, and memories shared. And of course many toasts, “To another twenty years.”

[gods-no-longer-tread-here]

I was thinking about an amazing fic wherein Geralt locks himself away in his own mind, leaving nothing but the wolf, and also one of my old friend’s fluffy h/c fics where a heat-crazed omega and an alpha who refuses to have sex with heat-crazed omegas cuddle for like 2.5 days straight, and also ace week. So. Here is this.

words: 1,737 characters: Geralt, Jaskier, Lambert, Roach, Eskel and Vesemir mentioned summary: Geralt forgets to take his meds (inspired by my own personal experiences with forgetting meds for longer than a week), and gets cuddly. Jaskier’s fine with it because it amuses him.

~

Geralt was acting strange.

Then again, he wasn’t a human, so his actions weren’t really supposed to be familiar. That made Jaskier happy, to be honest. He’d had enough of trying to puzzle out other humans; Geralt was just as complex, but far more straightforward.

But still, this fussing was out of character. He was so particular about hunting and buying food, and insisted on getting Jaskier a thick wool cape, and seemed hyper-aware of the changing seasons. Finally, Jaskier decided he wasn’t naïve enough for this.

“Geralt, why are you doing this?”

Geralt, half asleep and curled around Jaskier protectively, mumbled, “Winter soon. Gotta keep you healthy.”

Jaskier grinned, and squirmed over onto his back. “My dear, not that I’m complaining about your care, but why now?” he asked, booping Geralt’s nose.

The Witcher scowled and said, “You’re my mate. Have to take care of my mate.”

Jaskier’s heart tripped.

Geralt must have heard, because he suddenly became very awake, staring at Jaskier with wide eyes and a set mouth. Jaskier breathed in and out slowly; there was no point hiding his immediate reaction, but he should at least try to stay calm.

“Do Witchers see mates the same way as us humans?” he asked.

Geralt didn’t move for an agonizingly long moment. Then he said softly, “No. Mates are… they’re people we… you won’t betray us.”

Jaskier stared back. And then he grinned, and snuggled against Geralt, rubbing his nose on his Witcher’s collarbone. Said Witcher relaxed, wuffled in contentment much like a big, lazy dog, and wrapped Jaskier up tight in his arms.

“Mates are people you trust not to hurt you?” the bard hazarded, unable to stop grinning.

“Yes. Go to sleep, now.”

“Oh, alright.”

~

A month later, as they were beginning their ascent of the mountains, Jaskier decided that Geralt had been lying.

As soon as they had left the last human village, Geralt’s human habits began to fade into more animalistic ones: instead of cooking the few plump rabbits he was able to hunt, he portioned them out and ate the organs while Jaskier cooked the meat. He insisted on finger-combing Jaskier’s hair every night (which the bard quite liked). His movements became smooth in the way of a predatory animal, not a man with predatory mutations. Roach began to snort and sidle at times, trying to keep her distance.

And Geralt didn’t even pretend he wasn’t coddling Jaskier like a delicate maiden.

It was very odd. And yet, Jaskier didn’t really mind. Geralt wasn’t smothering him; he was simply far more attentive than ever before. More attentive than he was with Yennefer, even.

Jaskier’s breath catched, and he cleared his throat to hide the noise, trudging up the narrow path behind Geralt and in front of Roach. He didn’t want to think about that. He didn’t want to think about her--not when he was going to spend the winter with his dearest friend.

Geralt suddenly turned, stared at Jaskier, and then whined as his face melted into a look of worry. If he’d had wolf ears, Jaskier thought, apropos of nothing, they would be upright and shivering.

Jaskier smiled. “I’m alright, my dear,” he said. No matter how softly he spoke, the cold stone of the mountain caught the sounds and threw them into an echo as if he had shouted. “I was thinking of something, that’s all.”

Geralt closed the distance between them in three fluid steps and wrapped his arms around Jaskier, whining and sniffing the bard as if his scent would give away his thoughts.

Jaskier felt his heart grow warm again. “I’m alright,” he repeated, leaning into Geralt’s embrace. “I’m with you, aren’t I? I’m always alright with you.”

Geralt made a wolf-like noise of happiness, and then kissed Jaskier. When his mouth opened in surprise, the Witcher’s tongue slid in and licked the inside--and not in a sexy way.

“Ew!” he shrieked, wrenching back. “Geralt, you brute, what are you doing?”

“My mate,” Geralt rumbled. It was the first time he’d used recognizable words in nearly a week. He was also smiling, so fondly and sweetly. “My pretty mate.”

Jaskier’s cheeks heated immediately, and he pressed his face into Geralt’s neck. “Alright, you win. My… my mate.”

Geralt hummed in deep contentment. After several moments, they untangled from each other, Geralt licked Jaskier’s lips, and they continued their journey.

The cold of winter was setting in painfully fast. While much of the coast was quite pleasant, Jaskier had spent many years in Lettenhove shivering through storms and snow that killed at least three people every winter--but usually more. He knew what to expect from sharp cold; he’d just never been in a place this dry and cold.

They were only a few days away from Kaer Morhen when the air pressure changed so quickly that Jaskier’s ears popped twice. The dry feeling that had seeped into his every orifice vanished as the first snowstorm began to brew; he breathed in deeply and grinned at the moisture that sank into his mouth, nose, throat, and lungs. Now this was the kind of winter weather he was used to.

Geralt growled and hustled his mate and horse along as fast as was safe.

Jaskier barely had time to feel relief at the sight of the trail leveling out before the snowstorm opened and everything became a white-and-grey blur. He and Roach both stopped in their tracks, and he called out, “Geralt?! Geralt, where are you?!”

A dark form hulked into his personal space and embraced him. It smelled and felt like his witcher. Jaskier clung to him, and tried not to think about the day he had joined a rescue attempt to find the last fishing vessel in the middle of a wild storm. There had been sirens. The sailors used a horn to drive them away; Jaskier had panicked and started singing, and the sirens had fallen silent.

He wasn’t allowed on the ocean after that, and he was very glad.

But this wasn’t the ocean. He had never realized how much he trusted solid boats and salty water before he became so acutely aware that one misstep would send him tumbling through nothing.

Geralt hoisted Jaskier up in one arm, took hold of Roach’s reins, and continued on the path.

It seemed like a thousand years before hands tugged at his cloak, and Geralt snarled viciously. Jaskier clung tighter, and did not raise his head until they passed into a space that wasn’t windy.

“Ger’l?” he whispered.

Geralt rumbled reassuringly and nuzzled under Jaskier’s hood to lick his ear; the warmth of his tongue shocked the bard’s cold skin. “Safe,” Geralt said, and set him down on his feet.

Jaskier smiled, and promptly collapsed.

~

“He won’t take his medicine, not until his mate is awake.”

“That’s so stupid! Doesn’t he want to be able to think?”

“Yes, but he’s not Geralt right now. He doesn’t have a human mind. I told him he needed to get better at making it himself…”

Jaskier opened his eyes the barest crack, and tried to make a noise. He couldn’t. He was so tired and foggy.

Almost immediately, someone was kissing his face, and licking it, and giving tiny puppy noises of joy and worry. He smiled, and opened his eyes wider.

It was Geralt, of course, looking absolutely delighted. Jaskier reached up one shaky hand and booped his nose.

“Hello, darling,” he said.

“Hello,” Geralt replied.

~

There were three other Witchers in the keep: a tired father, a calm and kind elder brother, and a pissy baby who was only a few years older than Jaskier. They stayed far away from him, although they were courteous, and provided him with food since he couldn’t leave his nest by the fire due to Geralt constantly lying on top of him and acting like a love-sick puppy. Jaskier began to worry about that merely an hour after he woke.

Four hours after he was awake, the pissy baby brother approached with a tray holding two pottery cups. He set it down near Jaskier and ordered, “Give him the blue cup, it has his medicine in it.”

Jaskier looked at the cups. One was green and the other was a soft purple. “Ah… those are green and purple.”

The Witcher stared at him, then at the cups, then back at him. “What?” he said blankly.

“This one is green,” Jaskier pointed to said cup, “And this one is purple. Which one is blue to you?”

The Witcher pointed silently, and Jaskier nodded, picking up the cups carefully and handing the “blue” one to Geralt, who cocked his head curiously.

“It’s just a drink,” Jaskier told him soothingly. “It will help us both feel better.” He sipped his own and tasted spiced cider, which made him hum in appreciation. Geralt downed his drink in three quick gulps, set his cup back on the tray… and then yelped and rolled off of Jaskier, thrashing and howling.

“Geralt!” Jaskier tried to lunge for him, but the other Witcher held him back. “Geralt! What did you do to him?!”

“Gave him his medicine that he hasn’t been taking for probably three fucking months,” the Witcher said tersely. “Watch him.”

Jaskier never took his eyes off Geralt, heart pounding with fear. After a few minutes of thrashing, his wolfish sounds melted into human curses, and when he laid still, panting harshly, Jaskier strained towards him again. “Geralt!” he cried, reaching for him.

Geralt looked at Jaskier, frowned, then looked absolutely terrified. Before Jaskier could ask, he was up and out of the room.

“Geralt?” Jaskier repeated softly.

“He’s just embarrassed,” the youngest Witcher grunted, letting go of Jaskier. “Drink your cider. He’ll come back when I leave.”

So Jaskier drank, and the Witcher left, and after a whole three minutes, Geralt slunk back in and sat beside Jaskier. After a moment, the bard lunged and squirmed into Geralt’s lap, hugging him tightly.

“Welcome back,” he said.

“I licked you,” Geralt said.

Jaskier laughed merrily and kissed him. “Yes, you did. You also played with my hair.”

“And called you my mate.”

Jaskier paused. “Well… yes. Was that a mistake?”

Geralt shrugged and wrapped his arms around Jaskier. “Dunno. Do… would you mind if… are you alright with that?”

“Yes, my dear, I am very alright with it.”

“Oh. Good.”

And then Geralt snogged him senseless.

[darthwheezely]

dating george weasley and being a ravenclaw

warnings: stupidly [wickedly] hot men named george fabian weasley, kinda smut, cussing fs, angst because our angel is insecure, also i may have almost cried writing this and it’s sO LONG I AM SO SORRY

people that may like this (?): @whiz-bangs78 @vogueweasley @gcdric (whenever you’re back! :)) @theweasleyslut @thehufflepuffwife @lupinsclassroom @wand3ringr0s3 @kitwalker02 @monoscandal @pansydaisy

i’m obsessy espressy w this pic btw please take it for your enjoyment

this man boy

is so enamored with you

he doesn’t even really know a whole lot about you at first, stealing glances from across the great hall

listening intently when you answer questions in class

he starts to memorize the way you roll your eyes when you ask snape a question you can’t answer

and the way you wrinkle your nose when someone stereotypes you based on your house

you’re fiery, but you’re so poised for quick answers and sharp looks

he would pay big money to have you roast him during class like you do to cormac when he tries to hit on you a lot

which earns him many a revenge prank

and then he starts to try and talk to you, rather foolishly at first

but he finds it so intensely sexy the banter you two get involved in during these interactions

“If it isn’t my favorite little bird, Y/N ;)”

“Aren’t there other nests for you to bother, Weasley?”

“None that I find as mildly riveting, my dear, I do love a bird that chirps back”

“Do you like ones that bite, too?”

“I don’t know if your beak is sharp enough, love”

“Come up to me when I’m reading again, and I’ll give you some harder evidence of just how bad my bite is hmm?”

(Unbeknownst to you as you walk away, he’s already got some harder evidence growing in his jeans...)

he doesn’t stop searching you out, determined to prove to you he’s enough

you two after about a week and a half finally go out to hogsmeade on your first date

he takes you to the three broomsticks where you both drink butterbeer and make deep conversation for hours until close

there’s a point where he makes you laugh so hard you snort and spit out some of your butterbeer

which makes him snort and spit out his butterbeer

he realizes a couple things then:

1) he’s obsessed with the way you tell stories or talk passionately about the subjects you love. he adores watching how you light up everywhere in your body and talk so fast at points you can’t breathe

2) he wants to live in your head. he studies the way you think and watches you intently as you process punchlines and stories and memories and he realizes

i need to be something she thinks about

and without realizing it while you’re laughing super hard he puts his hand on the back of your neck and kisses you like it’s the last night on this planet

after about 12 seconds he pulls away and starts to turn red seeing your blank face unmoved

“i-i’m really sorry i promise i didnt mean to be that guy i just-“

and you’re pressing into him everywhere mouth and body and mind and he’s drinking you in like the butterbeer stained on his scarf and he is totally balls deep in love with you

you two are inseparable after that, making it official on the walk back to the castle

if you’re going on a stress tangent about how much work you have, for Beverly negative thought he’ll press a kiss to a pet of your face until you’re giggling and a mess and you’re kissing him back and then you’re on the table in the library...

“Georgie, you’re gonna kill my grades if we keep doing this!”

“You kill me everytime you blink for godric’s sake and yet here I am!”

he is a simp

he says he isn’t but anytime you bring out the “georgie, please” or “love, please” he turns to butter

fred thinks it’s the funniest shit and he capitalizes on it constantly

he calls you his little bird

most specifically his mockingbird because he claims you always set him at ease and make him feel like everything is centered

and he’s right, you do

you center the wild fire in him when he needs to breathe and look around

you see parts of him that aren’t balanced

there’s a night when you walk in on him just curled on his bed crying

your beautiful boy alone and sad and you instinctively start to cry too

You wrap your arms around him as he turns to you and buried his head in your lap. George, my love, what’s wrong?”

“I-I’m not like Fred I’m not like Charlie I’m sure as shit not like Bill I’m not like anyone that’s actually important” he chokes

“George-“

“No, you don’t understand, Y/N. I’m not good enough. For anyone. And I see it and hear about it everyday when my mum brags about how great her kids are and save us for last and when Fred can never shut up about how good he is at EXISTING and I-it swallows me whole, Y/N, I cant feel like this anymore” his body wracks out a harsh sob and you hold him like this

You hold him until he can start to fall asleep and you lay with him until you too, are asleep when he wakes up to tell you

“I love you. Forever, Y/N.”

And you push the hair off his lightly sweaty forehead and tell him “and I love YOU, George Weasley.” and you two fall back asleep happy crying in each other’s arms

he sees you struggle too

struggle with your workload

struggle with your own insecurities of not being good enough for him

telling him you’re just a girl that talks a lot about weird stuff and that you bring him down and he every time cups your face in his hands and pulls you down into him and says

“I love you here.” And kisses your forehead. “I love your mind.” And kisses below your earlobe “and I love you here. How you listen to people and always know what to say” and he kisses your nose “and I love you here, how you snort when you laugh really hard.” And he finally lands on your mouth, staying there for a moment, “and I love you most of all here. When you speak everything in your head and laugh and sing and talk and just breathe, my love. You’ve always been enough in all those places.” He presses one more kiss to your forehead and murmurs “I love you everywhere.”

anyway it’s time for spicy stuff

bow chicka wow wow as Fred would prolly say

George loves fucking you in the library it’s canon

he loves hoisting you on a table or against the stacks and murmuring against your skin how loud you are for him

“Is my little bird wanting to chirp a little louder?” He pries your thighs farther apart prompting a squeak and a small whine. “There it is, love, taking me so well...keep quiet, angel don’t want Pince to know how much of a cockslut you are for me writhing against the shelves do you?”

whew chile anyways

he also likes to touch you when you’re reading to him

but will stop and pull his face away from your neck and your hand from your core when you stop reading to him

“Angel, are you so much of a slut that you can’t focus on the words in front of you?”

“N-no, Georgie, oh my god right there”

“Thereeee, it is-“

mmmmm he’s hot fuck on GOD

when you guys slept together for the first time, he brought you to the *ding ding ding* restricted section after hours

he set up a whole ass blanket and relit the candles and brought pillows

it was very much making love to george and he whispered sweet nothings and praises in your ear the entire time

ugh what a MAN

anyway, TO THE BURROW WE GO!

molly fucking adores you

“My George brought home a beautiful Ravenclaw? Please know, Y/N he is an idiot most of the time and we wouldn’t be hurt if you found an out-“

“JESUS MUM LEAVE ME ALONE SKENSOWOWKWKKW”

again, Fred really does love you and enjoy your company

frequently comments about truly how unconditionally happy George has been, and how happy it makes him to see his younger twin so confident and full of joy

he also wouldn’t say this out loud but the more confident georgie gets, the better his prank plans become

i mean after all - he is the brains of the operations ;)

every chance he gets when you’re around his family or really anyone, he’ll sneak up behind you and plant a hearty kiss on your cheek and a quick “ILOVEYOU” in your ear before running off to do god knows what

oh, y’all bicker constantly

and by bicker i just mean argue about like

aliens

or is Wyoming a state

just like factually dumb but quirky shit

you’ve only had a fight like ONE time

and it was because George took a prank too far with Fred and you didn’t talk to him for an entire day

and because George has a lot of separation anxiety plus fear of abandonment he did not take it really well

You had gone back to your room after dinner in the Great Hall. For the whole day George didn’t eat. You knew because you hadn’t seen him anywhere in the Hall, and none of your classes. When you opened the door you saw him crouching knees pressed to his chest on your bed, he looked like a ghost. He met eyes with you and choked out a sob and ran to you, you opening your arms to hold him. “Please forgive me, Y/N I know you’re hurt but please don’t leave me I’ll be better next time I promise” he got faster and you knew he couldn’t breathe so you just whispered to him you weren’t going to leave you’ll be with him and you’ll stay and mistakes happen, you promise. “Georgie, I promise I’m never leaving. Okay?” He nodded into your shoulder, hunched into you. “I love you so much it hurts.” “I know, Georgie. I know.”

regardless for all his quirks and all his fears and hurts

there is nothing you wouldn’t do

to spend every waking moment with this boy

your love

and he, for the first time, knows he is enough