I can’t say why Ffionn went through with following the two Heart Embezzlers. But I can say he felt rather scared and confused thinking only more and more about those blathering fools yapping at each other as he ventured deeper into the halls of what he thought was to be Rose Manor. One of the Embezzlers turned to the fox who was scowling like a child.
“Doesn’t the lad come across as a bit…Foxy to you?” Sneered the first Embezzler trying to hold in his laughter.
“My word!” Gasped the second. “He doesn’t seem to give any fox right now!”
“By golly, good one mate!!” Wheezed the first Embezzler slapping his knee nearly falling backwards. Ffionn stopped walking and rolled his eyes in annoyance.
“Aww, chin up lad!” Chirped the second Embezzler. “We’re nearly there!” With a pat on the back, Two led Ffionn forward to a room with large doors. They were carved with the most delicate of design following tiny swirled trails that eventually turned into flowers. The grand oak from which it was made out of shone in the crimson haze. The Embezzlers each took a handle of the elegant door and opened it with ease. The interior of the room was as intricate and divine as the outside was with velvet sheets on the bed and beautiful flowered wallpaper with lovely frames hanging over it. Hanging upside down that is-
“Well go on!” Shouted the first Embezzler excitedly giving Ffionn quite a shove. Ffionn jumped slightly as he was pushed and made his way towards the bed. On it he saw a suit with fine coattails, tailored red tie, and a top hat full of knick knacks such as gears, clocks, dials, and even a few playing cards.
“Whatever may this be for-?” Began Ffionn looking down nervously at the suit. For they were his least favorite thing to wear.
“For the party of course!” Snapped out One.
“What party-?” Dreaded Ffionn. Both Embezzlers looked at each other dumbfounded and then back at Ffionn.
“The one where we sna-” Two’s mouth was suddenly forced shut by One.
“Shhh!” He shushed. “Boss’s orders you don’t go blowing the plan-”
“Dearest apologies,” Mewed Two smiling sheepishly as One shot a cross glare at him.
“Why don’t we leave you to get dressed.” Continued One handing the fox a paper with directions scribbled on it. Ffionn looked at it studying it closely.
“What time?” Questioned Ffionn.
“Six o'clock!” Called One over his shoulder as he and Two began walking towards the exit. Ffionn narrowed his eyes at them as they snickered while closing the grand oak door.
“Just lovely—” Ffionn sighed looking about the room to get a closer look at it. Tossing the makeshift directions down on the bed, he ventured forward to a delicate dresser with glass figurines placed on it in the most perfect organization. Tiny animals and carousels filled the space with assorted books and a music box. It was quite pretty; it was a tiny sewing machine with a little key on the side. Buttons and a small piece of fabric to the side completed it. The curious fox took ahold of the music box and wound the key. As he placed it back down the miniature sewing machine activated beginning to “sew” the cloth as it played the familiar melody of “Für Elise” on it.
Ffionn let his head lay down upon the drawer as he grew mesmerized by the sewing machine’s trance. His eyes followed the needle up and down as it sewed the miniature cloth. A few moments later, the tune began to slow down. Ffionn snapped out of his trance-like state quickly shifting his eyes to the gleam of a mirror in the corner of his eye. It was a rather fetching mirror full of delicate patterns and swirls. One odd thing about the mirror however, was that Ffionn could not see his own reflection. The glass was see through revealing only the other side of the room behind it. Such a strange thing it was. The fox looked closer to see whatever the matter was with the mirror as he studied it closely. His ears suddenly twitched as he heard footsteps beginning to grow near. Large, heavy footsteps they were and they were growing louder and louder— Ffionn’s ears flattened to the back of his head as he stepped back from the mirror. He closed his eyes tightly facing the ground as if it would shield him from his troubles.
Then the footsteps stopped. Peeking from one eye, Ffionn looked at the floor where a gold foot, and stood quietly. It was covered in blood as if they had just frolicked through a pool of it. It made Ffionn dreadfully uncomfortable..
“S-Stephan?” He stuttered looking up at the bunny who was covered in the blood of what looked to belong to someone else. His eyes, tired and grey. His clothes emitting the aroma of iron.
“Whatever happened to you..? You looked as if you’ve seen a ghost.” Whispered Ffionn tip toeing closer to the mirror. He stopped as Stephan held his hand up trembling slightly. His melancholic expression gazed into Ffionn’s emerald eyes as he silently stared from his side of the mirror. Ffionn hastily took a couple books from a nearby shelf behind him to stack and stand upon. One book being “The Ragdoll Complex” and the other “Tending to Pernicious Roses”. The fox tried to reach out touching the mirror as if it made him closer to the bunny. Stephan slowly looked down as if he saw the fox’s paw, and moved his hand to touch his paw on the other side.
“It’s okay Steph!” Reassured the fox. “Ffionn is here for you..I’ll protect you. After all it’s like you said, we’ll be best friends forever.” Stephan’s eyes wandered up to meet Ffionn’s as his hand tightened it’s grip to hold Ffionn’s. Shocked, the fox looked back into the bunny’s eyes as he mustered a soft smile. It wasn’t a grimace, nor a sneer. A sincere smile full of care and love. Ffionn wiped a welling tear in his eye and smiled back brightly at the bunny. Looking into the mirror he realized that they were so close but beginning to fall so far away as Stephan began to back away from the mirror. Ffionn’s heart sank slightly as the bunny made an about face.
“Stephan..?” Whispered Ffionn meekly. Stephan held out his hand as a butterfly emerged from under his hand. Then another from his ear, and one more from his shoulder. Ffionn stumbled back off the books in sudden astonishment as more and more butterflies swelled out of Stephan’s body while his body slowly dispersed with them. Ffionn sat back up too look at the mirror only to see his own, scared reflection cower back at him. The fox glanced up to turn his attention to a clock’s reflection behind him quickly turning around to study the time.
“Quarter to six,” murmured the fox to himself. “I suppose I should begin to get dolled up.” Ffionn walked back to the bed where the awfully uncomfortable looking suit slept upon. Reaching out a hesitant paw, he snatched it up and scurried behind a dressing screen on the other side of the room. Snapping his head about back and forth to look for any disturbances, he let his paws fall down to his mangy jacket’s buttons beginning to undo them one by one. Tossing it aside, he untied the bows of the hospital gown behind his back grabbing the suit quickly as the gown fell to the floor. A cold shaft of air suddenly blew through the room causing Ffionn’s fur on his back to rise. Without further ado, he hastily pushed his arm through the suit buttoning it up quickly. It was tight and itchy. Two things that Ffionn simply dreaded. He preferred loose, soft attire compared to this atrocity. Waddling awkwardly back to the bed, Ffionn picked up the velvet colored tie as he lazily tied it into a loose four-in-hand knot. Glancing at the clock with five minutes to spare, the fox carefully picked up the eccentric top hat leaning in close to study it carefully before placing it upon his head.
Turning to a nearby mirror he straightened his suit top and quickly snatched the makeshift directions setting foot out the door. The directions were somewhat difficult to read, as they were messily scribbled down in seemingly a hurry. But Ffionn could mostly make out the most of where it was directing him. He set foot out down the hall away from the exquisite room to first find a staircase. He ventured deeper and deeper into the hall past an uncanny slew of upside down portraits. They looked slightly familiar, but their stance made it hard to see clearly. Not to mention the faces of each figure was crossed out. The fox traveled seemingly endlessly down several spiral staircases and long halls. Dust particles awoke and suddenly scurried from their sleeping places as Ffionn brushed aside old, torn curtains to finally find a door. He coughed slightly from the dust trickling into his lungs as he made an attempt to open the door.
“Blast it all– this confounded door is locked!” Boasted Ffionn. “A key must be lying around here somewhere..” Ffionn leaned down scanning the room for a sort of key that might open the door.
What bestowed upon him was emptiness, and nothing more. Sighing, Ffionn retracted one of his tiny claws attempting to pick at the lock before he glanced down at his feet to see a golden key sleeping peacefully on the wooden floor in the shape of a heart. Leaning down to pick it up, Ffionn studied it carefully. With a simple nod, he decided it would simply have to do. Putting the key to the keyhole, the fox held his breath before turning it all the way. Hesitantly placing a paw on the doorknob, he forcefully pushed it open only to be greeted by darkness once again.
‘I don’t want to go in.’ Whined Ffionn’s fears. ’Do it now, you simply must!’ Argued his curiosity. The fox shrugged off those voices stepping in cautiously. The door forcefully shut behind him as the last of his tail fit in.
“Eek!” Shrieked Ffionn holding his tail close, stroking it gently. Why, oh why did he let his curiosity get the best of him? The fox furrowed his brow, dropping his tail and standing tall.
“Now Ffionn, you’re a man- I mean fox! Do grow up and don’t make a fool of yourself.” He announced to himself proudly lifting a foot to step forward.
“Is Felix here?–”
The fox froze straight in his footsteps. Before he had a chance to turn around, a light shone brightly in his eyes slightly blinding him and caused him to tumble backwards. A pair of hands caught him just before he fell to the old, wood floor.
“Careful One, he mustn’t be too soft before the boss gets ahold of him.” Scolded Two.
“Oh shut it you ol’ coot!” Snapped back one dropping Ffionn to the ground. The fox crawled to a nearby table hiding underneath the tablecloth. Sighing with relief, he sat back making an attempt to regain his breath.
But what was that?
Pairs of feet.
Three of them.
All belonging to beings he didn’t recognize. Ffionn suddenly yelped as someone pulled him out from under the table by his tail. The poor dear was nearly spooked to death as he fell face to face with a giant, nightmarish bear in green pinstripes with the contrast of a yellow scarf. His neck was entangled with vines and nettles being severely scarred, and his teeth were gnarled and yellowed. His fur was greasy and smelled like that of a rotting corpse. A simple atrocity he was!
“Hello young one.” The bear wheezed. “Now who might you be?”
“Put me down this instant!” Cried Ffionn.
“Why good evening to you Mr. Put Me Down This Instant! I’m Doris, Doris Von Tysterman if you please.” Chuckled the bear back tipping his hat slightly.
“Good one-” mustered Ffionn with a scowl. He felt himself drop forcefully to the table below and met eyes with two other hellish beings. Two foxes, male and female with the most lavish clothing of taffeta and velvet.
“What vermin did you leave in this time-?” Sneered the vixen. Ffionn’s heart palpitated with fear as he caught a dreadful glimpse of her. For she had no eyes with only a thin, snake-like pupil and her jaws were full of rows with razor sharp teeth, very much like that of a Great White.
“The two fools let him in, how should I know what he is or where he came from?” Snapped Doris. Ffionn spotted the door just behind the nightmarish dolls arguing. He then moved his glance to the Heart Embezzlers were busy yapping at each other about who’s pinstripes were more uneven than the other’s. It was a perfect time to make a break for it. Sliding carefully off the table he tip toed quietly to the door. He made sure to glance behind him to make sure he wouldn’t get caught.
The fox felt something wet dribble down his neck. Perhaps a leak in the ceiling? He wiped off whatever had fallen on him. A low growl was heard as Ffionn looked at a black, inky mass on his paw.
“Oh Frasier- bring the lad back over, will you?” Called Doris behind his shoulder. What Ffionn presumed to be “Frasier”, forcefully picked him up dropping him back onto the table.
“Damnation-” muttered Ffionn under his breath.
“What was that?” Questioned Doris. Ffionn just gave him his nastiest scowl instead. For he simply did not want to be here.
“One! Two!” Called the Vixen. The Heart Embezzlers tumbled over each other to her side.
“Your Grace?” They both beamed in unison. The vixen took ahold of Two’s bow tie fondling it between her blade-like fingers.
“Who is this filthy mutt?” She spat.
“Why he is our guest darling!” Giggled Two. “Boss sent him here for-” He suddenly was cut off by One smacking him upside the head.
“Will you shut it?” He growled. “This is the third time you’ve almost blown everything to smithereens.”
“The second time actually.” Corrected Two. One rolled his eyes in annoyance. The Heart Embezzlers shooed Ffionn away to a recliner on the other side of the room to wait.
“Who is that?” Asked Ffionn in curiosity.
“That, is Madame Annette.” Beamed Two. “Quite a beautiful sight she is. She’s even stolen my heart for that matter–”
“-Two you don’t have a heart.” Interrupted One losing patience.
“Why do you always have to go about ruining me jokes?!” Snarled Two striking One at the face. What oh whatever did dear Ffionn ever step into?
As you all probably know, I never post watermarked images however this is an exception. I have searched high and low for a version of this with no watermark - never to find it.
Here’s What I Know: The photo is obvi Jordan playing against Ewing. From what I can tell from the photo its circa ‘84/'85. The KMOV on the windows and the banner is a radio station in St. Louis, which would make me think this was a summer league of sorts. Ewing’s Adidas gear and Knicks colorways lead me to believe its post 1985 draft but what about MJ’s Tarheel colorway 1’s?
I need the answers, Sway.
So… if anyone knows the story behind this, please reblog/share - someone out there has to know the 411 of this image. With your help maybe we can crowd-source the answer and all find out the story together.
The image is too dope not to be captured with some context, agreed?
Will tugs sharp on Jem’s shoulder, yanking him back away from the open space where the wall ended.
“Careful!” He admonished, ignoring the hypocrisy of his chiding. It was all Jem’s fault anyway. Jem made him protective.
Jem turned to him, a dark eyebrow raised.
“Says Will Herondale?”
Will grins and reaches for one of his seraph blades.
“Last time I express any concern for your wellbeing.”
“I don’t know how you expect me to survive.” His tone drips with sarcasm and Will loves him.
He’s selfish and reckless and he loves Jem with every bit of him. Every part of him loves Jem and every time Jem coughs into a napkin and it comes back red, Will hates himself more. He’s not doing Jem any favors.
That thought was enough to make him lock himself in his room for days, avoiding Jem and Charlotte and their questions.
It made him want to carve the parabatai rune off his chest or slink to the nearest vampire and beg. Anything to get more James Carstairs, even if it meant Will had to distance himself.
Will peers from behind the wall, eyeing the group of maybe possibly demons. He and Jem had been tracking them for almost an hour, since the sun had set.
You could only see the edges of something inhuman when they moved.
Jem reaches for a seraph blade.
“Raphael,” he mutters, and the blade illuminates.
Will reaches for his own.
The demons keep walking, keeping each other close. A horde. There had to be at least eight of them. Four for each of them. He turns to Jem.
“You up for this?”
Jem tenses. The easy open lines of his face tighten and then Will’s no longer looking at his parabatai.
He’s looking at the boy from Shanghai with dead parents and everything to prove.
Jem runs forward, plunging his blade into the chest of the first demon. Like the good parabatai he is, Will runs after him.
Will gets lost in the instinct, in the act of fulfilling his purpose, the nephilim birthright. He loses himself in the taste of ichor and the momentum of him and Jem against each other.
Time is nothing more than a concept. Until he falls to his knees, three green cuts slashed through his gear and into his chest. He falls to his knees.
Jem slices the head off the last demon and turns, ready with a quip on his tongue to assure Will he could handle- Will.
He’s crumpled on the floor, His blood dark. Every ounce of rage leaves Jem and he falls to his knees, scrambling for Will.
He feels Will’s wounds as strongly as if they were his own.
“Oh, by the Angel, oh Will.” He stands up and lifts his parabatai, his heart aching with every step.
He walks back to the institute in a daze, as fast as he can, praying as he walked.
He prayed for strength and for Will. For him to be stronger then Demon poison and Jem’s pride.
He pressed his bloody hands against the doors of the institute,
shouting for Charlotte and Tessa. For Jessamine. For Anyone.
He nearly screamed when Charlotte tried to take Will’s blood stained body from his hands, and she had to get Henry to hold him as they laid Will on one of the many bed’s in the Institute’s infirmary.
Tessa ran off to send a fire message and Jessie sat him in a chair by the bed before running off to change, her dress stained with Will’s blood.
The Silent Brothers bring a certain chill to the room. A seriousness. Jem willed himself to stay positive. Will wasn’t like him. Will wasn’t dying.
Will couldn’t be dying. He couldn’t be. Jem was the one was dying, who changed into hospital gowns like they were night cloths. Jem was the one who was supposed to be in that bed. Not Will. Never Will.
Will couldn’t be dying.
He couldn’t. Because Jem was supposed to die first. Because he was Jem’s parabatai. Because there was no Jem without his Will.
Because he remembered running up and down the stairs and across the hallways with Will, with a
poorly marker drawn voyance runes staining their hands.
Because he remembered knicking bits of Henry’s gears and making each other jewelry, pretending to be pirates.
The Silent Brother’s voice is cold in his mind. James Carstairs?
“Yes?” He responded, aloud.
“Your parabatai has been poisoned by a Kali demon. We are doing all we can. I believe you are overdue for your Yin Fen.
Jem tensed. He couldn’t imagine leaving Will. Ever. Especially as he lay the infirmary, potentially dying. Will always had managed to stay at his bed side. The least he could do was return the favor. Still, he sensed the Silent Brother wouldn’t leave until he did. Forgive him, Will. The sewn eyes were creepy.
It tasted as it always did. Acid sweet, like overripe grapes and chocolate. It had ruined both foods for him.
He settled himself back in his chair beside Will, noticing how pale he had become, and the greenish tint.
He traced a line down Will’s cheek, his other hand planted on his own chest, gripping the parabatai rune on his shoulder. He could feel Will, there, weak but there. He held on to that.
Tessa sat with him, her wide grey eyes darting back and forth between Will and Jem.
"It’ll be fine, Jem. Will’s strong.”
“So are demons, Tessa.”
“He survived a fake curse and years without love. He’s stronger then this.”
She left to go find Jessamine, sending him a smile as she left. He loved her, honestly, but she had no sense of subtlety.
He doesn’t remember falling asleep, but he wakes up when the sunlight shines in his eyes.
He blinked rapidly and sat up, eyes darting the room for Will. He’s still on the hospital bed, eyes shut.
“Will,” he muttered, sitting up. He reached for Will’s hand and laced them together.
He gripped his hand hard, tracing over the voyance rune with his thumb. Please, he prayed, please wake up. Will, please.
He had thought about Will’s life without him often. Never had he considered having any life without Will.
Without his laughter and cruel facade, his Hemmingway and sarcasm. Without his cobalt eyes looking up at him from a book or rolling affectionately. There was always affection when Will looked at him. The affection of Will had always been in his reach. He was the only one allowed to touch Will, the only one who didn’t have to tiptoe around him. Who was he without that?
His heart pounds and the rune at his shoulder burns and he loves Will more then he’s ever loved anyone.
His secret threatened to spill from his lips. He wanted Will awake, now more then ever.
“Will,” Jem’s voice was still rough from sleep, though he wasn’t tired anymore.
Will was looking better. The green tint had faded from his skin.
Jem fingered his parabatai rune. Wake up, he thought, wake up.
He stays like that until lunchtime, silent and commanding Will to wake up with his eyes.
Noon it turns out, is when their parabatai bond is the strongest. He’s three stanaza’s in too his newest (and most favourite) hymn “Will please wake up so I can kiss your face.” when cobalt blue eyes flutter open.
“Will!” He ubtangles their hands and immediately crowds him. Normally, he’d know better. But it’s Will. For the first time in two days he can breath
“Jem?” Is the first word Will mutters as he struggles to up. Jem is his first word, his first thought, his. He’s his in every sense and the mark on his shoulder is nothing compared to way Will mutters his name.
“I’m so sorry,” he says, all thoughts of kissing gone and replaced with the hiss of flesh being torn apart and poisoned.
“My Jem, why are you sorry?”
His Jem. Kisses and demon poison and owning each other in ways the Clave would never understand. It feels like everything has been leading up too this.
“I love you.”
“My Jem. My dashing hero, my foolish boy, why are you sorry?”
“Because I love you in a way that’s the most selfish and sinful.”
Will pushed himself up and pulled Jem close.
“I know a lot about sin. I know when you fight or when you play violin. When you wear your pendant.”
The kiss doesn’t feel like falling from grace. It doesn’t taste like apples or brimstone. No, all Jem could taste was Will.
Lucas takes Riley to a Knicks game for her birthday and as they find themselves caught in the kiss cam, old feelings are stirred up and sparks go flying, making them both question their friendship. Are their feelings for each other powerful enough to finally make them take the next step?
Note: I love the scene in GMW with Riley’s Knicks rant and how Lucas just falls for her even more because of it. It’s so adorable and precious, so I decided to do a throwback/shout out to that scene and play off of it. Hope you like what I came up with! Happy Rucas Week Day 2!
“Help me out, man.
I need an idea.” Lucas begged
his friend as he drove them home from basketball practice. Riley’s birthday was only a few days away and
Lucas wanted to get her the perfect gift.
He just didn’t know what that was.
“Dude, you still haven’t gotten her anything?” Zay asked.
“Nothing seems right.” Lucas tried to defend.
“Just get her some flowers.” Zay suggested.
“That’s too impersonal.” Lucas said, rejecting the
“So, get her jewelry.” Zay offered.
“That’s too personal…I mean, it’s not like we’re
dating.” Lucas explained.
“Yeah, and why is that exactly?” Zay asked,
eagerly awaiting an answer. After all of
the eighth grade drama, Lucas and Riley and Maya all stayed friends, but over
the last four years, the gang could tell that Riley and Lucas were still very
much into each other and figured it was only a matter of time before they gave in
and became a couple.
“I told you.
It’s not what Riley wants.” He shrugged.
“Okay, let’s pretend for a second that I actually
believe that that’s true…what about what you want?” Zay inquired,
knowing his friend has been pining after Riley for years.
Lucas paused, opened his mouth and closed it as he took a
moment to gather his thoughts.
“What I want is to get her the perfect present. Period.” Lucas said finally.
digress.” Zay gave up…for now.
Lucas asked, surprised by his friend’s use of the word.
“I’ve been doing SAT test prep with Farkle.” Zay
“Ah,” Lucas said, thinking the world was suddenly
making sense again.
The car grew quiet as the listened to the radio drone on.
“Remember, if you
call in at the top of the hour, you have a chance to win tickets to this
Friday’s basketball game and watch the Knicks take on the Heat.” The radio announcer ranted on.
Lucas suddenly found himself grinning from ear to ear. "That’s it.“ He said more to himself than to Zay as he recalled
a fond memory of him and Riley.
anything about sports?” Lucas asked Riley as they sat at Topanga’s, hanging
out as friends again now that things were back to normal.
Riley trailed off.
asked, not totally convinced of her answer.
Something in her tone made him think maybe she did know a thing or
two. "Any sports? Like…what about basketball? You know anything about basketball?“
She said, casually admitting the truth.
questioned for clarification.
said again, this time sounding more confident.
couldn’t help but say again.
“Well, we’re in
New York, so obviously my favorite team is the Knicks…and, you know, this
might not be our best year, but at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter
because we’ve have ‘Melo, we have Phil Jackson, and that’s all that
counts. We shouldn’t have traded J.R.
Smith, and at the end of the day, it’s not our best season. We have a terrible record. We’re the worst in the NBA. I am at Madison Square Garden, and I see all
these fake fans jumping onto bandwagons like the Heat or something like that,
and you know what? That s not what a
true fan is. If you are gonna be in the
Garden, you better represent the Knicks!” Riley finished, pointing a
finger at Lucas for emphasis.
by her little outburst, she feigned coolness and leaned her head against her
palm. “I don’t know that much, obviously…” She added nervously,
willing away the blush on her cheeks.
Lucas just stared at
her in awe. He never heard a girl talk
about sports like that. It was amazing
and sent a funny feeling swirling around in his stomach.
“I really like
you, Riley.” Lucas found himself saying before he could stop himself.
Riley just giggled in
response, her blush growing deeper.
“What are you on about?” Zay queried, so consumed
by his phone, he didn’t hear the radio.