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notapaladin · 3 years

Text

a little mystery to figure out

The rumors reaching Nezahual’s ears can’t be true. They suggest that Tenochtitlan’s Master of the House of Darts and the High Priest for the Dead are...together, and Nezahual’s met Acatl. No, Teomitl is clearly going to be pining forever.

He decides to visit his sister city, and learns much more than he really wanted to.

Also on AO3!

Not for the first time, Nezahual reflected that his life couldn’t get any better than this. He was a healthy young ruler with slaves to serve his every whim and his pick of lovely, inventive concubines to share his mat; he had only to wave a hand, and a dozen servants would rush to attend him. The mat spread out in his palace gardens boasted two thick cloaks and a deer pelt to cushion his reclining form, and above him a pair of noisy motmots fluttered like living jewels.

By his side, his current favorite concubine—Miyahuaxochitl—picked up a delicately carved rosette of fruit, studying it for a moment before popping it into her mouth. “Hm.”

He put an arm around her, pulling her a little closer. “Is it not to your taste?”

She thought for a moment and shook her head. “No, my lord, it is. Forgive me, I was only...thinking.”

“Oh?” It wasn’t an accusatory question—of course she was entitled to the contents of her own head, though he’d never been especially impressed by her sagacity—but she flinched anyway. He registered, belatedly, that he’d been using what his childhood playmates had called the “creepy snake face,” the one that supposedly made him look like a rattlesnake eyeing a bird’s nest. It wasn’t like he could help being curious, but when you were an agent of Quetzalcoatl, that apparently came with side effects. Oops.

At least she got over her unease quickly. “About the tales you told of your last visit to Tenochtitlan. Working with Teomitl-tzin and Acatl-tzin.”

“...Thinking about other men?” He smiled.

“Not like that.” As he hope she would, she shoved him lightly and pretended to take offense. “I was wondering how Teomitl-tzin’s marriage is going. I don’t like to think of anyone being unhappy in love.”

“His wife is the Guardian of the Duality in Tenochtitlan.” And absolutely the most terrifying woman I’ve ever met. Too bad Teomitl snatched her up first. We might have killed each other, but gods, I’d die happy. He twined a lock of Miyahuaxochitl’s hair around his fingers. “I’m sure it’s going fine.”

She didn’t seem soothed. Her gaze drifted over the sparkling water of the nearest fountain as she replied, “...Well...yes, my lord, but…”

“But?”

For a long moment, she silently traced meaningless patterns over his bare chest. It tickled, but not enough for him to be distracted from her words when she finally spoke. “It’s only that...you mentioned he seemed awfully close with her brother.”

“Acatl is his teacher.” But even as he spoke, his mind whirled. The pup is often angry—I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s his base emotional state—but when Acatl was accused of treason...gods, he was frantic, and not on his own behalf. And there’s the way he looks at him when Acatl can’t see him... Nobody looks at another person like that if they aren’t at least a bit infatuated.

Miyahuaxochitl had clearly reached the same conclusion far ahead of him. He mentally revised his opinion of her brainpower. “Mm. That’s...not the kind of closeness I mean…”

Anyone who could do the things she could with her tongue had no business blushing like that at a mere insinuation. And she hasn’t even seen them together. I swear the only time Teomitl wasn’t glaring at something was when he was looking at Acatl. “You really think so?”

She nodded. “I listen when the slaves talk amongst themselves. They all say that when those two were guests at your summer palace, they seemed...very close. And some of the merchants, too—rumor has it that Acatl-tzin never used to even step foot in the palace until he met Teomitl-tzin, and now he’s there all the time.”

He found himself remembering the last time he’d been in their combined presence. The bloodstained courtyard. The ghosts. The ahuizotls, all teeth and claws. And the way Teomitl had looked at Acatl, even with his sword drawn and visions of the Turquoise-and-Gold crown filling his head. Well. That would certainly explain a lot. I wonder if...no. If I hadn’t seen it for myself, I’d question whether Acatl even had blood in his veins. The poor pup is doomed.

The thought made him grin. There was, after all, a way for his life to improve—watching Teomitl splutter in impotent rage. “I think it’s time I spend a week in Tenochtitlan again.”

Pomp and circumstance were, of course, the prerogative of a Revered Speaker traveling to an allied city. But for once, Nezahual found himself curious as to what would happen if he took the subtle approach. Accordingly, his boat docked in the Atempan calpulli—if the memories of his spies served, Acatl had been from there—and he prepared himself for a nice, long walk on a sunny day. He’d even taken the steps of leaving his guards with the boat and most of his jewelry; they would follow an hour or so behind, to be ready in case he needed them. Meanwhile, in his least elaborate cloak, he could pass for a nobleman’s child instead of an Emperor for a day.

Ah, the sacrifices he made for the sake of information.

For being the domain of peasants, the calpulli really wasn’t as shabby as he’d imagined it would be. Children ran underfoot just as they did in the outskirts of his own city, and women called to each other as they spun thread and ground corn. He’d been walking for perhaps half an hour, heading deeper into the city, when he heard a name that gave him pause.

A group of women had gathered in an open courtyard to spin maguey fibers; one, middle-aged, sat down on the outside of their little circle and commented, “Saw our Acatl the other day.”

Acatl was a common name, but the degree of pride in her voice suggested he was more than just a fellow peasant. If he squinted, he thought he could make out a certain family resemblance—that girl shared his nose, and that woman had a precise copy of his jaw. Cousins, then. He made a production of stretching and leaning against the wall of the opposite house, for all the world as though he was fascinated by the birds in the tree branches above, and watched as a woman with red ribbons twined through her marriage braids perked up noticeably at her words. “Oh? How’s he doing?”

Their arbiter of knowledge grinned as she set her spindle whirling. “Seemed to be doin’ quite well for himself; had a nice new pair of silver earrings and all.”

Now that was interesting; Acatl was entitled to a degree of splendor as a High Priest, but her tone suggested he’d only recently begun to take advantage of it. Red Ribbons nudged the woman next to her. “Remember when he went off to calmecac and announced he’d stay on as a priest? His parents were furious!”

General sighs around the circle. Nezahual privately marked down Acatl’s parents as idiots.

A buxom woman in a flower-embroidered blouse muttered, “What a waste.”

Though this mildly blasphemous statement seemed to meet with some approval, the older woman let out a defensive huff. “Hey—he’s an excellent priest! Our Acatl, a High Priest!”

Flower Blouse sighed wistfully, a motion which did interesting things to her chest. “I know, Auntie. I’m sure you’re proud. But...he’s so handsome.”

There were collective nods. One girl clasped a hand to her chest and gazed wistfully up at the heavens, as though the mere thought of Acatl was enough to send her into rapture. Nezahual raised an eyebrow. While that is certainly an apt enough descriptor if you’re into older men, his personality...then again, I do seem to have a knack for running into him in stressful times. Stressful times he’d occasionally caused, but that was besides the point.

Red Ribbons looked thoughtful. “No wonder all the girls were so upset. Remember Huchimitl?”

A slender woman with her hair in a maiden’s plait smirked at her. “Just the girls? Because I remember your husband, when he was young—”

“Her husband, then? My brother, now! You should have heard him when he was at the boy’s calmecac, it was all Acatl-tzin this and Acatl-tzin that—“

“Girls!” Their auntie aimed a scorching glare around the circle, and all five of them suddenly found their spindles utterly fascinating. “You should be ashamed, gossiping like that about our High Priest for the Dead!”

The maiden was either brave or suicidal. “Auntie, you started it…”

“I was merely telling you what I saw!” She sniffed. “Ridiculous girl, it’s hardly my fault if our Acatl wants to finally take advantage of his place in the world—the Duality knows it took him long enough. Why, I remember when you all were young...”

Judging by the assembled eye-rolls and badly stifled groans, it seemed she was about to break into one of the dreaded When I Was Your Age speeches bemoaned by younger generations everywhere. Nezahual had heard his fair share as a child, and had no intention of staying and listening to this one.

Accordingly, he pushed off from the wall and continued on his way with a thoughtful hum. Clearly, Teomitl would have significant competition in the—vanishingly unlikely, he’d seen the way Acatl reacted to the suggestion of sexual intercourse—event of Acatl ever breaking his vows of chastity. Still, he mused. New earrings, for a man who never wears any. The pup must be trying very hard.

Hm. His last meal had been just after dawn, and he was getting hungry. The market should be packed at this time of day, and he had an excellent memory of a certain old grandmother’s tamales. He steered himself towards it.

Tenochtitlan’s main market was, indeed, packed. He felt the cacao beans and gold-filled quills wrapped in his cloak, gaze drifting over stalls selling jewelry and knives and caged animals. A woman on a spread-out blanket was haggling intently over the price of a caged parrot; her neighbor was trying desperately to interest a sacred courtesan in a length of orange cotton. At another time he might have bought both—he could always use a sacrifice to Xochiquetzal, just to be polite—but the smell of roasted meat was distracting.

He wound up buying two tamales, leaning against a tree to eat them just in time to avoid bumping into a porter with a load of bulky, fragile feather fans. Quetzal feathers predominated, a blazing iridescent green, but he spied bright blue cotinga and the delicate reddish-pink of spoonbill feathers as well. They were fit for a nobleman, if not the imperial court itself, and he wondered which featherworker’s shop had turned them out.

They were apparently quite impressive to the merchant manning a blanket full of wicker baskets, who remarked, “...Big order.”

The porter shrugged, adjusting his hold as the topmost fan made a bid for freedom from its carrying strap. “Oh, these? Straight to the Temple of Mictlantecuhtli.”

“Again?!”

“Yep.”

The merchant blinked slowly. “...Tlaloc’s green dick, who died?”

Another shrug. The errant fan hit the ground, and he swore as he knelt to pick it up. “Nobody important, so far as I know. At least, not recently.”

Given the way the merchant leaned forward, eyes gleaming as he lowered his voice, he’d come to the same conclusion Nezahual was rapidly arriving at himself. Such expensive feathers were either payments for services rendered, or...well. Payments for services you hoped would be rendered. Nezahual stopped chewing momentarily, the better to eavesdrop on the man’s murmur of “Must be a personal gift.”

That got a snort and a badly hidden grin. “Dunno why they bother. Acatl-tzin’s just gonna sell ‘em and give the proceeds to the poor anyway.”

“Pft, you have no romance in your soul—oh, I’ll let you go.” He’d spotted a potential customer, and beamed encouragingly at the woman who’d made the mistake of getting too close with intent to buy.

As the porter trudged off, Nezahual returned his focus to his lunch. They were really excellent tamales, spiced meat punctuated by the sharp bite of roasted chilies. He wondered if the woman who sold them would be interested in moving to Texcoco. It’s generally frowned upon to kidnap your allies’ citizens, but I might just risk it for more of these. It wasn’t like Tizoc would care, after all. Acatl might—the man was irritatingly principled—but a man who would sell that many expensive gifts to feed the poor probably wouldn’t complain too strenuously if one old woman got a new job in Nezahual’s palace kitchens.

He shook his head, biting back the smirk that wanted to escape. Poor, stupid Teomitl. That’s not a man that can be bribed onto your mat.

A pair of market girls passed by arm in arm, snapping their gum. He was about to tune them out, but their chatter snuck into his ears anyway.

The one in the pink blouse had a particularly chirpy voice; it would be just the thing to cheer him up after a tedious day, as long as she never brought up her current conversational topic again. “Did you really see the Master of the House of Darts down by the knife-seller the other day?”

Her companion—pale blue skirt, yellow makeup—nodded cheerfully. “Mm-hmm!”

A long, wistful sigh. “Mihmatini-tzin is so lucky.”

Blue Skirt puffed her cheeks out thoughtfully. “I wonder when he’ll take a concubine or two…”

That earned her a cheerful, laughing shove. “What, you think you’ll stand a chance?”

She was promptly shoved back, nearly colliding with a young man carrying a load of blankets as she cackled. “I just might!”

The joy in both girls’ faces was infectious, and Nezahual found himself with a genuine grin. Pink Blouse was smirking widely at her friend, showing off teeth that had been dyed a brilliant red. “You’ve got some competition, don’t you?”

“...Hm. I guess so. But...Teomitl-tzin’s really handsome.”

While Nezahual found himself regretting his decision to go incognito—neither girl had noticed him, and he was sure they’d revise their opinion of Teomitl’s supposed good looks if a better option presented himself—Pink Blouse let out a crack of laughter. “Hah!” Gum snapped cheerfully between her teeth as she added, “You’re not the only one who thinks so, I’ll tell you!”

He wondered who those people were—besides Mihmatini, who was proof positive that love made you blind and stupid. Nobody who looked that much like Tizoc could be that handsome, surely. Maybe on a foggy night. At a good distance. But before they could elaborate, he lost them in the crowd.

Both tamales were becoming distant memories, and he closed his eyes against the glare of the day to ponder his next move. Atempan and the markets had been enlightening, but they wouldn’t give him the answers he sought. He knew the palace would be his best bet, but there would be questions and politics and Tizoc there, none of which he especially felt like dealing with. At least not yet.

The Sacred Precinct was on his way, so he’d walk slowly. And if he engaged in the time-honored pastime of flirting with the next pretty girl he saw, that was absolutely besides the point.

It was mid-afternoon by the time he crossed over the canals to the Precinct walls, but the open plaza was as crowded as the markets had been. He kept his ears open and his mouth shut anyway. You could learn a lot from gossip if you were quiet. You could learn even more if you were Quetzalcoatl’s agent in the Fifth World, but he decided not to press his luck yet. His attendants were still keeping a significant distance behind him, and calling on the Feathered Serpent was something he preferred not to do in public. People always made such a fuss when your eyes rolled back in your head and spectral scales shimmered along your arms.

Ahead of him, one priest of Huitzilopochtli was huddling with another. He slowed his pace and pretended to be very interested in the sight of two sacred courtesans bickering.

The younger of the two priests was looking around warily, but his gaze slid right past Nezahual without seeing him. He clearly had different, worse problems. “...Quenami-tzin still seething?”

“Mmyep.”

“...I think I’ll take the long way back to the temple.” Nezahual couldn’t judge the priest for his wince; being under Quenami’s power had been bad enough for him, and he had been an Emperor since boyhood.

It didn’t take a genius to imagine why he was in a bad mood now. He remembered that load of feathers for the temple of Mictlantecuhtli, and smirked to himself. I can only imagine what he thinks of a peasant’s son accruing so many riches—and then to give them away! All because Teomitl thinks Acatl is one to be courted like a maiden.

The older and wiser priest nodded, but he was already distracted. The two bickering courtesans had descended to a screaming match, with vocabulary even Nezahual hadn’t heard employed in quite that way. It was fascinatingly undignified. “Good idea.”

“I mean, can you blame him?”

“It’s not Acatl-tzin’s fault that he—“

But Nezahual’s pace had slowed too much, and whatever wasn’t Acatl-tzin’s fault was lost when he nearly collided with a priestess carrying an armload of bloodstained grass balls. Since they had a regrettable tendency to roll all over the place when dropped, and since he had been raised with manners, he had to stop and help her pick them up. By the time they were finished, the priests had moved off.

He sighed. There was nothing for it; he’d have to enter the palace.

As he’d predicted, it was a unique form of torture. He’d met up with his attendants, so at least he was properly dressed for the obligatory good-to-see-you-glad-you’re-not-dead-yet audience with Tizoc-tzin, but having to listen to the man’s voice sucked all the pleasure out of what should have been a soothingly rote speech. It would take time for a proper banquet to be arranged, leaving him with several hours of free time he seriously debated spending in the women’s quarters. It would probably be worth it if he got caught. Tizoc was almost definitely not up to the task of entertaining a lady, and the women were sure to be bored.

He’d made up his mind to try it when he ran into Teomitl. Almost literally ran into, in fact; the man was striding through the palace corridors at his usual brisk pace, only to stop dead when he saw him. He was wearing the red cloak of an off-duty Master of the House of Darts and a frown.

After a pause just long enough to be insulting, he addressed him. Aww, he was learning politics. “Nezahual-tzin.” A stiff, perfunctory bow. “What brings you here?”

“Would you believe a diplomatic visit?” He tried for his most winning smile.

It didn’t work. Teomitl’s eyes narrowed, and when he drew himself up Nezahual realized that the man was still taller than him. Every line of his body screamed irritation. “...No.”

He paused for an instant, considering, and then let his smile widen. It had always been fun to needle Teomitl, even when they were children—the man was always so serious, so dignified. Of course there was a place for such things, but if the man was in love...it would be terribly amusing to watch that dignity crack. “It is! I heard some very...interesting things about your lovely city on my way here, you know.” He couldn’t resist adding, “Apparently Acatl-tzin’s very well-liked.”

Teomitl’s fists clenched briefly, then relaxed. Oh, he was touchy. “As he should be.”

And quick to jump to Acatl’s defense, as well—there’d been no hesitation in his words. Nezahual remembered the day they’d rescued Acatl from a traitor’s death; it had been the only time he’d ever seen Teomitl so frantic. Acatl had been oblivious then, and he was oblivious now. “A shame he hasn’t noticed. I’ve heard he’s gotten some expensive gifts recently.”

“Mm.” His jaw was tight, and he was resolutely not meeting Nezahual’s gaze. There was a faint tinge of red in his dark face.

Nezahual fought an urge to snicker. Allied ruler or no, they were presently alone in the courtyard and he didn’t particularly care for being punched in the face. The jade rod piercing his septum as a symbol of his rule was just as breakable as his nose was, after all. “Is he the sort of person who enjoys a bit of luxury? Do you suppose he’s the sort of person who’d then think kindly of the sender? You know him so well, after all.”

Teomitl sucked in a breath. “I suppose it’s none of your business, Nezahual-tzin. Good day.”

Then he stormed off, and Nezahual didn’t stop him. Baiting Teomitl was highly entertaining, but he’d had his try at that for the moment. Until the banquet, he’d enjoy himself in more leisurely pursuits.

The banquet, when it came, was fascinating to watch.

Mihmatini and Teomitl sat together, and he found himself studying them. She was radiant in feathers and jewels, but were her eyes tight around the edges? Did she suspect that her husband was besotted with someone else? It had been blindingly obvious to him even when he’d attended their wedding; he’d made it through the ceremony and half the feast before he’d had to sneak off to laugh himself sick. Mihmatini was an intelligent woman, but...well, love did make you blind.

Or maybe she’s just trying not to see it. Of course, all men took their pleasure where they pleased, but he imagined it had to be much different—much worse for the wife—when the one your husband had designs on was your own elder brother. But they weren’t acting as though anything was amiss; as the evening wore on, she leaned against her husband’s shoulder, and Nezahual strongly suspected she was holding his hand where he couldn’t see. If he hadn’t known better, he’d think Teomitl had never gone behind her back to overthrow his brother.

...Speaking of brothers…

He turned his gaze to Tizoc’s gilded screen. Tizoc had always hated priests in general and Acatl in particular; his attempt to get the man killed proved that. The part of Nezahual’s mind that was always turning over schemes and inspecting them from new angles wondered idly how he’d react if he knew his younger brother was interested in his greatest foe, if that was something he could use...but no, he wouldn’t sink that low. Teomitl was not an enemy he wanted to have when the man became Revered Speaker in his turn. And an enemy I’d have in truth, if I did something to jeopardize the life of his favorite priest.

Who, to Nezahual’s surprise, was in attendance. Apparently his unannounced visit was judged a significantly important occasion to merit the presence of all three High Priests. Acatl was seated between his fellows, wearing full regalia and an expression which suggested that if either man tried to speak to him, he’d drown them in their soup bowls. Next to him, Quenami was grinding his teeth; it appeared his foul mood had persisted all day, and Nezahual would bet quite a lot that it had something to do with the silver earrings in Acatl’s ears. They weren’t large or ornate, but they glittered where they caught the torchlight.

As he watched, Acatl turned his head in Teomitl’s direction, and their eyes met. Teomitl, caught in the middle of raising a soup bowl to his lips, flushed and set it down.

Nezahual tried very hard not to start cackling into his grilled turkey.

In the end, the confirmation of all those rumors was an accident. He really didn’t mean to eavesdrop. But he’d been about to turn in for his own mat when the idea struck him, and so before he could think better of it he was on his way to Teomitl’s chambers. Maybe the man would spill something interesting if he prodded him hard enough.

Teomitl’s chambers turned out to be occupied.

Very occupied.

To give them credit, they were trying to be quiet; if he hadn’t been actually in the courtyard and aiming for silence himself, he might not have heard them. But there was a very familiar rustle of cloth, and the distinct crackle of a thin reed mat, and then—

He knew that voice. He knew it very well, even though he’d never heard it like that.

“Ah, hah, Acatl…”

Impossible.

He sat down hard in the packed dirt, feeling his world rearrange itself to make room for the noises he was hearing. That was Teomitl, half-breathless with pleasure, and that was Acatl’s answering indistinct murmur, and that was the faint slap of flesh against flesh, and that was the steady rustling of reed mats under a man’s weight. He’d thought Teomitl pining, trying desperately to catch his dignified tutor’s attention. The idea that he’d succeeded...

He realized he faced a crossroads. He could slink away while they were busy with each other—undoubtedly the honorable choice. He could interrupt them—crude, dishonorable, and likely to result in severe physical pain if not immediate death.

Or he could sit down in Teomitl’s courtyard to wait.

He found himself waiting for a long time—enough to pick out the constellations above his head and develop a certain respect for Acatl’s stamina, but not long enough for him to fully pin down what he was going to say. It seemed he might owe Teomitl some sort of apology, which was a distasteful thought. He could bear it, though. Apologies, advice, perhaps some gentle mockery—yes, that was how he’d deal with this.

Eventually the sounds from within faded to a quiet conversation, and then to the faint rustle of someone getting to their feet. He glanced idly at the entrance curtain as its bells jingled, taking in the sight of a formerly-chaste High Priest making his escape from a lover’s embrace. The key word there being formerly; Acatl may have once sworn a vow of chastity and celibacy, but he’d clearly not so much broken it as shattered it to pieces and performed a merry dance on the shards. There were the faint marks of teeth in his collarbone and bruises at his hip, and his previously neat hair was in disorder.

Oh, and he was staring at Nezahual in open horror, such that Teomitl scrambled up off the mat and all but knocked him aside in order to take up a protective stance in the doorway. Any moment now, the open horror would transmute itself to outrage.

Absolutely nothing could have stopped his tongue. “You two seem to have had a very pleasant evening.”

Teomitl had clearly gotten as good as he gave; there were the beginnings of some fantastic marks on his throat. Much more important, however, was that his eyes had gone solid jade, and the air was starting to fill with the scent of the lake. “You.”

“Teomitl!” Acatl seemed to have shaken off his horror; now he laid a hand on his lover’s arm as though that alone would stop him from doing violence. Then again, he’d seen the man accomplish the same with words before.

“Acatl…” It came out in a snarl. He still hadn’t taken his eyes off Nezahual, who was beginning to feel some mild concern.

“Look, if you kill him, it’s a diplomatic incident and it’ll start a war with Texcoco!”

“...And?”

“And I think Tizoc-tzin will probably want to know why!”

Nezahual decided he could probably risk interjecting. Acatl was being reassuringly sensible about the whole thing, and Teomitl’s eyes were returning to their normal dark brown. “I heard some very interesting rumors in Texcoco. You’re lucky that Tizoc-tzin never thinks beyond threats to his person.”

He watched as Acatl and Teomitl exchanged uneasy looks. It was Acatl who spoke, with his gaze fixed on Nezahual; the air around him grew measurably colder, though it didn’t seem to affect Teomitl at all. “...Rumors?”

He’d had a lot of time to stitch together the day’s overheard conversations into a cohesive whole, and he discovered he was amused by the tapestry it presented. “You two, together, seem to be rather a...popular notion among the people of Tenochtitlan. Aside from Huitzilopochtli’s clergy, of course.”

Both men recoiled for a moment, their faces red, and then they spoke at once. “I—“

“—That is—“

He held up a hand. “I won’t breathe a word.”

Teomitl’s eyes narrowed, cold as the bottom of the lake. He saw jade reflections dance in their depths. “You wouldn’t be so accommodating unless you want something from us.”

He’d also had a lot of time to determine what that something would be. It seemed a simple favor, and one unlikely to cause offense. Not with what he’d seen. “...Should Tizoc-tzin’s death come with a reasonable amount of warning…”

He paused, watching the way both men stiffened. Acatl’s fingers twitched as though to take Teomitl’s hand before he visibly pulled himself back; Nezahual couldn’t help but smile. As though we don’t all know the useless craven isn’t long for this world.

“You let me tell him on his deathbed.”

Teomitl was still suspicious, but he seemed inclined to listen. “...Why?”

“Star-demons,” he said promptly. He’d seen them only at a distance, but the carnage—the bodies in pieces, such as he’d never even seen on the worst battlefields—had stuck stubbornly in his mind. And to know it was Tizoc’s fault...yes, he’d be very much pleased with the chance to make the man’s last moments that little bit worse.

“...I’ll give you that,” Teomitl muttered.

“Excellent!” He affixed a charming grin to his face. “So we have an accord. I must confess, I really hadn’t expected Acatl-tzin to be swayed by pretty silver earrings. I would have held out for solid gold—“

Through gritted teeth, Acatl snapped, “I think you should leave.”

Since he didn’t want to be an ahuitzotl’s dinner—an annoyingly likely scenario, given the way Teomitl was vibrating with rage—he left. Quickly.

EXTRA: Some Weeks Earlier

Teomitl’s life changed irrevocably over lunch, of all things.

He’d started showing up at Acatl’s house with tamales after a long, frustrating argument with the rest of the war council regarding preparations for the next campaign, when he’d only wanted to comfort himself with the thought that at least he could do one useful thing by making sure the man he loved remembered to eat that day. It had quickly become a routine. Hearing Acatl’s voice, seeing him smile...it was good. It was all he would ever get, but it was good. He’d become an expert at ruthlessly beating back the corner of his heart that still stupidly yearned for more. He knew he wasn’t going to get it.

Even if Acatl kept looking at him. And smiling. And laughing, sometimes, a half-disbelieving chuckle that made his heart do unpleasant things in his chest.

Acatl wasn’t laughing now. He’d seemed preoccupied all day, and barely picked at his food. Teomitl’s chest hurt, and he told it sternly to cease. If you keep doing this to me, he told his heart, I will have you removed. Today’s meal had been worryingly quiet.

Acatl broke the silence without looking up from his half-eaten tamale. “...I heard some...interesting rumors from my cousins yesterday.”

Teomitl swallowed. Acatl had a lot of cousins. Not as many as he did—he could still count them all and didn’t need a chart to figure out how they were related—but a lot. It was probably nothing. “Oh?”

“They seem to think your feelings for me are…” He trailed off, and Teomitl had the pleasure of seeing him blush. It almost distracted him from the heartstopping terror coursing through his veins. “...Not quite platonic.”

“Ngyrk,” he said intelligently.

Acatl dropped his gaze to the floor. “...I try not to give credence to gossip.” He swallowed visibly. “But.”

“But,” he echoed. Maybe if he prayed hard enough, the earth he sat on would sink into the lake. Or one of the gods—at this point he wasn’t picky—would strike him down.

Acatl drew a slow, hesitant breath. He still wasn’t looking at him, and Teomitl realized his hands were starting to shake. His own were only spared that indignity by balling themselves up into fists so tight that his nails cut into his palms. “...If...they were accurate…”

He managed to force the words out somehow. I am no coward. If he’s going to throw my heart back in my face, I can damn well meet it head-on. “If they were? What would you do, Acatl-tzin?”

“...I’d say we should be more discreet, for starters.”

We. His heart leapt, and this time he didn’t tell it to stop. He could barely breathe; the dread had faded, and pure joy was fizzling up to replace it. “Does that mean you—“

Acatl pushed himself to his feet, holding out a hand to help him up as well. “It means, I think we should continue this discussion inside.”

They didn’t wind up doing much talking.

#nezahual #teomitl #acatl #teocatl #obsidian and blood #paladin writes stuff

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riskeith · 3 years

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hi babe, hope you slept well.. ♥️

answering on the phone is just *takes screenshots* *opens tumblr app* *switch between screenshots and answering* do you also put on my messages on the laptop and answering with your phone usually, because that’s what i do lmao sjshdks. thank god for technology.

(I LOVE BEING CALLED BRO.. i believe that i would’ve been a dudebro in another life tbh..) there is? i’m not super immersed in the fandom actually so i had no idea, do you have any examples? ofc only if you wanna talk about it i know these topics can sometimes be annoying to think about. also you’re right! ‘don’t like don’t read’ is the law. follow it. i can’t believe how some people have the nerve to talk about what other people do creatively... yikes

you should if you ever find yourself not knowing what to read! i think their fics were some of my first in the fandom and they set the bar so high hehe. dude i love how oikawa just wants to see kageyama burn it’s so funny..... he’s so cocky about it while kageyama’s just his moody self. speaking of; one of my fave fics of yours is the swapping jerseys one!

WTF 😭 BABY POOLS AND POOL FLOATIES..... razor please come back to us please. sidenote but do you also think that his powers are 5 star level? hes soo powerful it’s so odd how he’s only 4 star haha... or maybe it’s just me being biased.

YEAH! THE SAVING SCENE IS SO AHHHHH. god especially if they have dialogue while person a is hurting and person b just spills all their feelings and becomes so erratic and scared and person a is like holy shit you love me.... and after everything is okay there’s still some awkwardness and tension and aaa.... 💢💔

OOO. sadly the ps5 is always out of stock it’s crazy how fast it sold out. but i mean it makes sense it’s arguably the most popular console so.. hopefully they restock soon. last of us is such a fun game! and the second part is ~gay~ which is always a plus. i’m not sure which memes you mean? tell me 👁 HAHA that makes sense actually omg... lumine and aether reunion won’t happen until like two years if the updates keep coming the way they are (STOP THAT WOULD ACTUALLY BE SO FUNNY.... like hello if you want to unlock the rest of the story you either gacha $pin for it or you imagine it yourself love ♥️😗) talking about this makes me wonder what the other worlds might look like....

your followers are just here to witness us planning our co-op date sjsjdkdjskz. speaking of,,, hehe. i have some fantastic news. i’m at ar level 11 right now and co-op unlocks at level 16... i might just reach that tomorrow (today for you) so i’m just saying hehehehehehehehehehehe.... 😏♥️

BOWL CUT. my cutie little baby. also mullet? sounds nice omg you will probably rock that look... 😳 i’m a non mullet supporter but if cluna has a mullet then call me a yeehaw mullet lover i suppose. can’t believe my wife is a cowboy. OMG YEAH IT MUST FEEL SO NICE your head went bzz bzz. how long did it take for them to accept it? and yeah god ikr some people take hair so seriously which is fair but also i’ve never understood it... like it grows out..? wow you really went from a ballet girl to punk rock style huh. i feel like you’re the both sides of the ‘she was a punk she did ballet’ meme.

memo fic is a jealous fic? mmm smells good. I FIGURED jshdjdkhsjs slow songs are just not your forte, huh? rip. langst is the best yet worst thing ever tbh. and YEAH I DO we’re truly 🤝 ok literally mood sometimes it’s just nice to talk about how much you love a character through another character in a fic yk? so what if this 2k fic contains 1k words about how beautiful oikawa looks? it’s what iwa feels <3 (YOU’RE LEARNING!!!!!!! THATS SO EXCITING!! i guess you just have to drive me around, huh?)

oh i’m in love i’m with that fic my girl. and i knew about that spoiler it’s kind of hard to miss it since it’s everywhere skdhdkdhdk... god, that sounds so good thank you for sharing it. pining iwaizumi hajime >>>>>>>> the air i need to exist 🥺

THE DAY IS SO SOON CLUNA, it’s literally here soooo soon holy shit i just can’t wait. i played for almost 6 hours today in a row like an idiot and now i never wanna see hilichurls again in my life but hey, one step closer to my baby. prepare yourself.. 😏

AWWW i had a feeling you’d be a tea person. but omg tea effects your sleep? how late is too late for you to drink it? what’s your favorite flavors? 👁 and i’m addicted to both shdkdhsks. i say addicted bc i literally have 6 cups of tea per day easily and like.. 1 or 2 coffee cups per day. it’s really bad but i can’t stop so.. 🙇🏽‍♀️

COLLEGE BOYFIES CLUNA. COLLEGE BOYFIES WITH DIP DYE HAIR. imagine them doing each other’s make up and nails before going to concerts together. imagine xiao in euphoria kind of make up. holy shit. here’s something for your overwhelmed heart jsdhjshska. xiaoven soulmates girl, no doubt about it. THE EDIT THE EDIT THE EDIT!!!! they just look so beautiful. we need scenes with them like Asap. the edit is based on a fic... notes down.

can’t wait to see your screenshots. super excited!!

xo, m.a. (i almost wrote my name down in a haste shshskdjdk... although you’ll find it out soon...)

hiya!! i slept alright~ ahaha

:o that’s smart! but no i don’t LOL whether i’m on my phone or my laptop i just continuously scroll up and down fhdskjfkhsdf i think that’s why i come close to missing some paragraphs some times oops. yay for the ~wonders of technology~

(AIGHT NICE AHAHHA fhsdkjfsh does that mean you’re a bit of a tomboy?) actually coincidentally i came across this thread: https://twitter.com/maxatsuomi/status/1350145589296685057 which gives you an idea lmao (also some things on there i wasn’t even aware of wtf) EXACTLY??? it’s even worse when non content creators try to come for content creators like?????????/ um you’re getting all this food for FREE and yet?????? lmfao the nerve of some people

i def will!! FKJSHFDSKJ yeah that do be their dynamic lolol. and thank you!! i too think i snapped on that one 😩😩 glad others agree ahahah

i actually haven’t really seen him in combat... and when we could trial him i was too busy trying to pass the quests to focus on how he fought fhdkfhsdkfjshf but i do think his abilities are cool!! he have wolf above head 🥺

YEAHHH BOYEEEEEEEEEEE god that reminds me of a scene from a drarry fic (What We Pretend We Can't See wink wonk)

oh damn!! hope they restock soon for your sake~ yissss ive watched a playthrough and omg lev.... my Son. i don’t think i can find the memes again but it was just about the bugs like how if you throw a grenade on the highway everyone will run out of their cars like a flashmob or something hfskfhsdjfkds. (LMAOOOOO) there’s actually a trailer with the other worlds! https://youtu.be/TAlKhARUcoY (it has spoilers tho supposedly lol. none we understand rn at least)

hdsfkhjs. omg you absolute legend!!!! but i also hope that you’re taking care of yourself and prioritising the important things too fhsfhdksdhf. but i am excited hehehehehe

AHHAAHKFHDSKJFSD pls... once i saw someone with an actual proper mullet on the bus and i was like “ew... keith would look like this irl?” FJSDHKFSAHKDASHDFSDJFKJFDSHFKJS. but what can i say i got influenced by all the kpop bois 😔 and hmmm idk? i think my dad didn’t care too much but ik my mum did/does fhsfskfsdfhkf so who knows lollllllllllllllllllllllllllllll. IT REALLY DOES GROW OUT LMAO LIKE. fhkshkfsdkj my cousin called me a rockstar when she saw it LOL so you’re prob right 🤪

yeah slow songs really just. aren’t LMAO ‘behind this mask of mine’ was based on a slow bts song and i put it in the playlist i had for it (bc obviously) but i wanted to skip it every time hfksjdhfskjdfhskfdkfhkslfhadksfjsdjhfkashkfjsdh. EXACTLY!!!!!!!!!! you are so correct. (hehehe i was gonna say that too that you don’t need to drive bc it’ll take you around 😏 LMAO)

fhkdsj thank!! legit pining iwa.......... more like pining ME mayhaps i just be self projecting 🤪🤪

lolol dw i can fight the hilichurls for you 😩 also who’s your fave enemy to fight! i used to like fighting the treasure hoarders most but the hilichurls are cute.. FHSKJDHFSDFKJSD plus i need their fucking masks my god why are their drop rates so shit hfsdhjfks

i’m not too sure actually? i’ve never been up early enough to test it but i like drinking tea like after dinner... which is the problem AHAHA. hmm well i like matcha a lot LOL but also chai? and then like black tea.... all the other ones too... i used to drink some fruity ones which were nice but we have a lot of the like basic chinese ones at home too and i enjoy those as well lol. wbu?? omg.... m.a........... dfhksdfkjhfkjshfksjd that’s a lot!!!!!!! do you even need to drink water then HKDSJFHKSDFHDKDSHFJKSDH

omg............. ive never seen euphoria LOL but ............. omg ...................... i cannot process thoughts rn.....

xoxo!! c.r. (you mean bc we’ll be playing co-op? you don’t have to if you’re uncomfy fhdskjf my genshin name was literally ‘aether’ up until yesterday FHDFHSDKFSDFJSHFKSDF)

#marriage anon #wowclunaanswers #long post

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maple-writes · 4 years

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So @asinglenote7 and I thought it would be fun to write something with a couple of our characters meeting each other so here we are! It was a lot of fun working through the scene together :D It was great learning a bit more about Sias too!

###

When I’d gone up the mountain it hadn’t been that long after eleven AM, but I must have lost track of time after finding the source of the reported disturbances just off one of the side trails in the forested park. Checking my phone after sending the spirit off, it was already getting close to four in the afternoon. I didn’t think I spent that long with her, but at least it was still light out.

I yawned, hunching my shoulders as I rejoined the main trail the way I came. Overhead pines swayed and creaked, squirrels leaping from branch to branch as the air began it’s afternoon cooling. As far as exorcisms went, everything had gone smoothly. The young woman had been kidnapped almost two years ago now, her body dumped in a ravine far enough from prying eyes that no one had found it until now. Luckily she’d been ready to go, and only needed someone to hear her out, to listen to what happened to her back then. At some point I’d have to report the body’s location, and the identity of her killer, but that could wait until tomorrow when Ginger was back in.

“Hello?”

I stopped, snapping my head up from the ground. A man with a colorful shirt and a white cane stood in the middle of the trail. Dark lines snaked all across his skin in a pattern I couldn’t decipher, and even from where I stood energy flooded out from him. The air around him buzzed and crackled, crawling across my skin like I was nothing but a conduit between him and the ground.

I swallowed, trying to shed the static feeling creeping down my back. “Hi?”

He tilted his head in my direction. “I’m Sias. I’m kinda… lost. Can you help me find my friends?”

There were more of them? Were they all like this? I stared for a moment, trying to gather my thoughts. As strange as he was, at least he sounded honest. I smiled, hoping I hadn’t hesitated too long.

“Oh, of course.” It was easy enough to get turned around on these trails after all. I squinted at the sea of tree trunks around us. “Where do you think they went?” I turned back to him, and quickly added, “I’m Asher, by the way.”

“I uh, kinda left them. I got distracted by the feel of the trial under my foot. I think I came from that way?” He pointed down the fork in the trail. “I’m not sure if I should just go back to town though.”

I peered down the branching trail. It wasn’t too challenging, but I’d only taken it once or twice. As far as I knew it went from this end of the park to the other, winding around cliff sides and creeks without looping back. It was anyone’s guess how far down the trail Sias’ friends might have gone.

“Probably best to wait for them back at the trail head.” I turned back to Sias. “I was going down that way anyway, if you want I can walk you down.” If it turned out his friends really had gone all the way to the other side of the park I could probably give him a ride over there once we got to the parking lot.

He nodded. “That would be nice. Thank you. Um, can I ask you a probably invasive question?”

Oh? I stiffened, trying to read his expression to try and figure out what he meant, but curiosity quickly won out. “Sure?”

“Your… Soul.” Sias laughed, almost to himself. “You should… Maybe go to a doctor or something. I’m… Well, I have a feeling you might want to get checked out for a hidden illness, or something.”

I froze. “What?” I curled the tips of my fingers against the seam of my pants. No claws caught the threads, and there hadn’t been any horns in my shadow earlier, everything had gone back to normal a few minutes after sending the woman off. “How do you know that?”

“I… I can see souls.” He nodded. “It’s… a tech thing? My eyes are more tech than they are biological now. I shouldn't be telling yo this, I just, you seem nice, I don’t want you to fall ill or something.”

So he meant well, that was good to know. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep it a secret.” I paused. How much should I tell him? “I’m alright though.” If he trusted me enough to tell me something he shouldn’t, then I might as well return the gesture. He seemed trustworthy enough. “I only have half of it, my sister has the other, so I’m used to it. It’s not really something I spread around, but it’s probably because my father was a demon that it was able to happen at all.”

“A… A literal demon? Alright. Okay.” Sias blinked, taking the information a lot easier than I’d expected, thankfully. “Um, well, I’m glad you’re okay. Should we… Maybe start walking?”

“Right.” Probably best not to dwell on it too long in case he got scared about following a demon alone though the woods. I paused though as I passed by, glancing between him and the trail ahead. He couldn’t see where he was going, could he? “Are you alright to walk on your own? The trail isn’t too rough.”

Sias smiled, tapping his cane against the ground. “I walked here, didn’t I?”

“Right, of course.” I turned away, a hand going to massage at the back of my neck. Of course he’d had to have gotten here on his own. I probably wouldn’t have been very helpful anyway. “It’s this way then.”

I led the way down the trail, glancing back half to check he was following and half to try and figure out what exactly he was. The trail widened out and I slowed to walk beside him. This close to his side the hairs on my arms stood on end, like sparks jumping from him through me as charged static whenever we drifted too close together. I furrowed my eyebrows as I stared down the length of the trail. The strength of it, the wild and barely harnessed energy… It wasn’t that different from when I first met Cirrus, was it? Come to think of it, the beach I’d found him on wasn’t too far away from here either.

“So, this might sound strange.” I turned back to Sias with a deep breath. “Are you... Are you a dragon?”

He blinked. “No? Um, why? Is something wrong? I’ve never met a dragon. Is it my tattoos?”

“Oh, no.” Part of me wished I hadn’t said anything now, but it was too late to change my mind. “You’re well…” How was I supposed to explain? “There’s something, I can feel something from you. Its powerful, but I can’t figure it out.”

“Well, I…” He sighed, one arm wrapped around himself. “I’m a storm elementalist, and the tattoos are laced with lodestone. I was meant to be a human weapon. So that’s why.”

I blinked, taken aback for a heartbeat. “Really?” That would explain the crackle across my skin. “What are you doing here then?”

“I… Escaped.” He nodded, filling his pause. “I’m safe here. They won’t find me. But I… I’m travelling, with my friends, we’re on our way to a larger city, somewhere where the people who did this don’t have influence.” Sias lowered his voice, quiet enough I wasn’t sure if he meant for me to hear. “You’ll be safe.”

The static buzzing from him faltered a moment, and a weight settled deep in my chest. I looked down at the dirt under my feet as we walked, neither saying a word. He was on the run then. I couldn’t imagine what that might have been like.

“That sounds difficult.” I spoke softly, not much louder than the sea breeze in the mossy branches arching over our heads. “I hope it all works out for you. Eventide is kind of out of the way, I would be surprised if anyone tracked you down here.” It was a detour from any major highway to end up here. Still… “You and your friends are welcome to stop by for dinner or the night, if you’re ever worried about staying somewhere too obvious.”

Sias’ eyes widened. “I, I couldn’t ask you to do that. There’s… There’s six of us that’s too many!” He said. “But I’d really like that. An actual meal sounds good… We’ve been eating canned soup.”

That would have been a lot of underwhelming soup. I tried to picture the dining room, counting the number of chairs on my fingers, then again when I remembered to count Cirrus and Striker. It would be tight, but not impossible.

“We can make it work, though someone might have to use a stool.” I smiled. “It’s up to you, but I don’t mind.” Striker probably wouldn’t either, besides, he wasn’t going to be home until later. “I don’t think I can fit you all in my car, I can give you an address though.”

He grinned back. “I’d really like that.”

We stepped out of the trees onto the crunch of the gravel parking lot and a group of bickering people drew Sias’ attention.

“That’s my friends! Here, we can walk over, just give me the address.” He led the way towards the group. “It was really nice to meet you, Asher. Thank you for… Well, everything.”

I smiled. “No problem. I could write it down, or if you have a phone I can text.”

He paused a moment before shouting towards the group. “Orion!”

Immediately one of them raced across the parking lot. “Sias?” They grabbed his arms. “Don’t wander off again!”

“I won’t. Can you put an address into your phone?” Sias nodded towards me. “This is Asher, he’s… Invited us for dinner.”

“Alright.” Orion looked me up and down, as if sizing me up, as they pulled out a phone. “I’ll just type it in. I don’t want anyone having my phone number right now.”

Fair enough. “Sure.” I gave them my address, waiting to make sure they had enough time to type it out. “Feel free to stop by whenever you’re ready. If I’m not home yet tell Cirrus I invited you over.” Striker would only be coming home later after his shift ended, but I was almost certain Cirrus hadn’t gone anywhere today.

I turned towards my car with a wave. “See you later!”

“Bye!” Sias chirped, him and Orion quickly returning to the rest of their friends.

The rest greeted them as they rejoined, but I couldn’t hear what anyone said as I got into Striker’s car. I was probably going to have to stop at the store on the way home to pick up a few things. Ingredients, pop if it was on sale, and maybe some non-soup based travel foods. Hopefully if they did get to the house before I did Cirrus would be friendly, or at least somewhat polite.

#this was really fun!#the city of eventide #revielle #the city of reveille?#la ville d'eventide??#collab #did i finish filling this scene out instead of working on chapter 27?#maybe...

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o0o-chibaken-o0o · 5 years

Text

Communal 2018 Drarry Rec List

IT’S HERE, EVERYBODY!!! And it’s long! Thank you so so much to everyone who sent in their favorite fics written in 2018! To make this easier to navigate, I’ve created categories that make sense to me based on this collection of fics — obviously many fit into multiple categories, but I tried my best to place them accurately! I had so much fun looking through these and talking to everyone about their favorite fics, and I’m already super excited to do this again next year!! :D

Note that all recs were written by the person who submitted each fic, and they are in no particular order within their categories :)

ENJOY!

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EIGHTH YEAR

The Nightmare Club by Elle Gray / @diligent-thunder (85K)- Hermione and Ron are going back to Hogwarts to do N.E.W.T.s, Ginny isn't. Harry hasn't decided, until he has, in front of the Wizengamot and now he's responsible for Malfoy as well. A tale of enemies who learn to get along, get it wrong and get it on. Everything is purple, some things are on fire and no-one is sleeping properly. But don't worry, there's tea! Wishing you could curl up on a purple couch in an eighth year common room stocked with hundreds of varieties of tea and eavesdrop on our favorite Hogwarts kids as they attempt to adjust to a normal school year? If you love awkward miscommunications, snuggling, open minded acceptance, kind-hearted friends, and—of course—mutual pining, this fic is for you.

Sex and The Art of Castle Maintenance by birdsofshore (15K)- "Come on, boys," Zabini drawled. "You’re only delaying the inevitable." Trouble always had a way of finding Harry, and eighth year was obviously going to be no exception. The antagonism, tension, and heat leaps off the screen, and I could NOT put this story down.

To Hurt and Heal by @cassisluna (21.5K)- They say that everybody who gets out of Azkaban comes out a little mad. After the war, Draco Malfoy spends three months in Azkaban. He just wants to go insane in peace, but Harry Potter finds that he, inexplicably, still can't leave Draco alone. I went into this expecting angst, but by the end I got Eighth Year fluff and a whole lot of eating breakfast. Can't say I didn't love it.

Orbit by HenryMercury (52.5K)- "The classical problem of celestial mechanics, perhaps of all Newtonian mechanics, involves the motion of one body about another under the influence of their mutual gravitation." *They don't like each other. They're not friends. There's not even a ceasefire of any sort because they're fighting as much as ever—but there's definitely something different about it. An added layer of self-awareness they don't dare identify, but which colours every Scared, Potter? and Do your worst; each You wouldn't dare and Then prove it. 8th year fic that does such a fabulous job of bringing Harry and Draco together, that makes their pairing so realistic, even non-drarry shippers would be able to see the appeal.

Once Upon a Time by @fantom-ftnoise (12.5K)- This is the story of Hansel & Gretel - er, that is, Harry & Draco. A wonderful retelling of Hansel and Gretel, with amazing (and delightfully creepy) sensory descriptions, humour, nail-biting tension and a glorious happy ending.

Eighteen Kisses by tigersilver (10K)- Harry is being targeted by a very determined and wily Malfoy, a Malfoy with sly hands and a sweet, sweet mouth. The story features adorably fluffy Draco and insanely flustered Harry, with chocolate and sweet kisses

It takes 36 Questions to fall in love by @gnarf (14K)- After returning to Hogwarts for their 8th year, Harry and Draco can't seem to stop fighting, much to the irritation of staff and students alike. Their last fight escalated and Harry and Draco are forced to room together by a pretty angry Headmistress. They will have to stay in their new quarters until they overcome their differences. But it wouldn’t be McGonagall if she didn’t have a plan. To help them achieve this goal (and to save everyone else from going crazy because of them) she gave them a charmed parchment that will ask a series of personal questions. Over the next couple of days they'll learn much more about each other than they could ever have imagined. A precious they-finally-start-understand-eachother story that left me feeling fuzzy and happy

Oblivious by lealamalfoy / @gregqoyle (17.5K)- Harry doesn't believe his Amortentia's scent is correct, and starts questioning the potion and his feelings. Of course Malfoy, of all people, is the one to answer these questions Harry's lack of communication with the female population and Draco's lack of communication with Harry is infuriating to new levels

Heart of Silver/Heart of Gold by @lettersbyelise (54.5K)- Draco Malfoy, a young demon specialising in school bullying, has lived hundreds of uneventful lives. Until his world is turned upside down by his newest assignment a few days before Christmas: to get rid of 8th year classmate Harry Potter, Defeater of Dark Lords and thorn in the side of all things evil. Trouble is, Draco’s world has been upside down for a while… ever since he started having very human feelings for a certain bespectacled Gryffindor. It’s a slow burn fic where Draco is a demon sent to torture and kill Harry buuuuut feelings are involved; also there’s a Niffler names Jeff and some very amusing Ron moments!

AUROR(S) / CURSE BREAKER(S)

Ten Thousand Reasons Why Not by @lqtraintracks (8.5K)- Harry and Draco are stand-ins for the usual witch who gives the workplace harassment and sexual consent talk to the Auror trainees. Amazingly funny and sexy fic, featuring public UST, great dialogue and banter, and smut to die for.

Changeling by Obscurus343 (86K)- The assignment seems to be an excuse to get the Boy Who Lived away from the press for a while – Head Auror Savage is human, after all. But when they arrive to Barebone Castle, Aurors Potter and Malfoy realize that something sinister may indeed be going on. It's terrifying. It's cursed. It's some next level freaky shit that nobody can explain. But not to worry! Two lovestruck idiots are on the case. warm and funny, with a wonderfully crafted cast, spooky mystery and more handholding and cuddling than your heart can take

Cold Like Fire by @queenofthyme (12K)- Head Auror Harry Potter had no problem with mandatory consent training for his team. He’d actually been looking forward to it, that is, until he discovered who the teacher was. Now, he had no idea how he was going to get through the training without throwing a hex at Draco Malfoy. Or a punch. This fic is absolutely hilarious and full of so many wonderful drarry-y moments!

The Partner, the Rival and the Very Big Case by oceaxe (24.5K)- When Harry and Nott are paired up to go undercover as fake boyfriends, Draco is disappointed not to get the assignment. It's just professional jealousy that's making him feel so upset. Obviously. He's engaged to be married to Astoria, after all.But when he walks in on Nott kissing Harry for 'practice' and has a wild magic outbreak, he starts to think that something else might be going on. Is Nott right? Is Draco a homophobe? Or is there... just possibly... another explanation? Funny as hell and sexy too, it features a Draco grappling with his attraction to Harry, his jealousy regarding him, and his own sexuality, when their partnership gets split up for a case.

Cabin in the Forest by @justdrarryme (23K)- Of course Harry would get partnered with Malfoy when Ron leaves the Aurors, nothing in his life could ever be easy. What he hadn't counted on though were his feelings for the other man. Or, Harry and Draco get trapped in a Bundling Bed and are forced to work their shit out. The art that this fic is based on (by ano-ka-ba) is incredible, and the way these two get out of their predicament is hot as hell.

Still Catch The Tide by @dwell-the-brave, art by Razielim and Apriicat (57K)- When a ravaged body is found on Blackpool beach front, newly partnered Aurors Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy are sent to investigate. This is a make-or-break case for Harry - solve the case and not scare his partner away, or risk his career. But when another body appears, and another, this mystery goes far deeper than either of them could have imagined. from Big Bang, this Auror partners casefic has suspense, rich writing with a thread of melancholy, and gorgeous art.

In Our Blood by @secretsalex (38K)- Draco is an accomplished pure-blood curse breaker, and Harry is tasked with accompanying him on his latest job—cleaning up the Van Boer mansion, which has been under a devastating fertility curse for seven generations. reading this is like watching a gorgeously shot, terrifying horror film. Don't let that scare you off - it's compelling and will leave you thinking about it long after you close the tab.

COMING OUT / LGBT+ THEMES

Little Compton Street (One Rainy Night in Soho) by @writcraft (65.5K)- Draco is lonely, Harry hates the press and it won’t stop raining in London. Harry discovers a magical street that’s close to disappearing forever and Draco realises he’s one rainy night in Soho away from finding everything he’s been searching for. This fic is a BEAUTIFUL ode to LGBT culture and community, and was so so moving in addition to being an extremely entertaining read with a great relationship between Harry and Draco

Rookie Moves by Elle Grey / @diligent-thunder (60K)- So the war's over and Harry's a Rookie Auror, and everything seems... fine? I mean, he's single, his life is mostly work and he hasn't been out in ages and he's tired and annoyed most of the time, and he should probably be a bit more social, but the last time he kissed a girl he had to Obliviate her... but that's normal, right? And then Robards throws him a file, yells at him a bit and he finds himself guarding Malfoy of all people, and maybe that little feeling in his gut he thought he'd disproved as indigestion once and for all.... maybe was something else. Something lots gayer. A tragically under appreciated coming out fic that legit made me laugh so hard I cried.

Around You Moves by ignatiustrout / @dracomalfoyofficial (29.5K)- Harry knew Draco was gay when he invited him to move in. He’s never had a problem with this. So why does he feel so weird about Draco bringing men home all of a sudden? a fabulous fic in which Harry thinks he’s homophobic when he hates seeing Draco with other men ... and then he realizes a few things about himself ;)

Harry Potter and the Bisexual Awakening by @writcraft (23K)- Harry is perfectly content being single, heterosexual and living in Godric's Hollow with his very clingy rescue dog, Snitch. When Draco Malfoy turns up on Harry's doorstep demanding that Harry teach him how to drive, things quickly become a lot more complicated. Funny, sharply-written and sexy, HPatBA has everything I love about reading drarry (snark and UST, fantastic prose, emotional connection and hot sex) but brings an awesome new perspective to coming out, in queer fic.

When You Kiss Me (What a Lovely Way to Burn) by @femmequixotic (22K)- A drag fairytale of New York in which Draco wears red lipstick and Potter can’t get enough A fantastic piece of writing that explores a genderqueer Draco, working at a drag club in New York, where he sees Harry for the first time in years. (note from chibi: THIS FIC IS SO BEAUTIFUL IT WILL GIVE YOU A SEXUAL AWAKENING AND I WANT TO HOLD IT CLOSE FOREVER)

DANCING/CLUBBING

Kill, Fuck, Marry by @lettersbyelise (12.5K)- Malfoy leans toward him with a baleful look. “I do believe Pansy Parkinson, my best friend, paid you to spend the evening with me. It’s my birthday, Potter. So you’re going to get off your Gryffindor arse, and you’re going to dance with me. I want to dance. I want to win. I want that bloody trophy on my shelf before the end of the night.” Harry and Draco unexpectedly meet again on Draco’s birthday, years after their last encounter. Incredulity, banter, witty conversation, gin and tonics and impromptu dancing ensue. It’s only natural, of course, that Draco would expect his birthday night to finish with a bang… Perfectly in-character dialogue and great heat during what starts as an awkward, unintended date between Draco and Harry. Two Truths and all those Hidden Lies by @keyflight790 (7.5K)- It didn’t matter whether Draco knew about the Polyjuice or not; nor did it matter what face Harry deigned to hide behind in the club. Draco could spot Potter a mile away. Polyjuice could change his face. It could change the way his hair sat along his scalp, and the color of his eyes, and the shape of his lips. It could change his height and the way his muscles rippled beneath his shirt. It could change the swell of his arse, the length of his... Not that Draco was thinking of that. The fact that Draco can recognize Harry even without his awful glasses and stupid scar warms my heart every time.

Brick by Brick by @agentmoppet (8K)- There’s something between the two of them, something that builds beneath the smoky lights of the club and grows stronger during midnight conversations held on a rooftop high above the streets of London. But Draco wants to wait. deals beautifully with consent and all the waiting the two men go through to build something that is not just sex.

ANGST & HURT/COMFORT

Away Childish Things by @letteredlettered (154K)- Harry gets de-aged. Malfoy has to help him. “You’re crying over that fan fiction about the children again, aren’t you.” -my husband

I could be wrong, I could be ready by @harryromper (57.5K)- (...) Harry Potter left Britain after the war and didn’t look back. Ten years later, when Gringotts discovers a vault containing his parents’ belongings—including their badly spell-damaged wedding rings—he’s forced to face up to friends and family who’ve grown in ways he could never imagine, a wizarding London rebuilt beyond his expectations, and the anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts. And if that wasn’t enough, there’s the entirely unforeseen problem of Draco Malfoy. Featuring pureblood wizarding traditions, ancestral magic, open mic nights, marriage equality, a diner in Brooklyn, and the return of Fleamont Potter. I am like ......so overwhelmed by how this fic is so amazing like my goodness

Chocolate and Pastry by @agentmoppet, art by @anemonensblog (50.5K)- When Pansy bets Draco that there is no chance he and Harry could carry out a genuine romantic relationship, he and Harry form a plan. But as their fake relationship progresses, Draco sees a side of Harry he never expected. Harry is struggling with something, pushing it far down inside him where he doesn't have to acknowledge its existence. Draco starts to worry, and then he starts to care, and then... horribly... he starts to fall in love. Fake relationships are always fantastic, but this one just hits you right in the feels, and is so beautiful!!

Things You’ve Told Him All Along by thirdeyeblinkings (19K)- Anonymous fire calls, blind dates, awkward run-ins, and kissing in the d-a-r-k. But besides all that, a story about hiding, coming out, and starting over (and over). It is so wonderfully written with artist!Draco and it tackles mental health issues just beautifully.

you’ve got the antidote for me by Kandakicksass (20.5K)- When Harry Potter unintentionally severs their soulbond before it can fully form, Draco Malfoy resigns himself to a slow death and decides not to burden Harry with a soulmate he's made it very clear he doesn't want. He's never been selfless before, but for Harry, he can try. This fic is wonderful and devastating and one of the best I’ve ever read. I think I cried 5 times while reading this but it’s worth it because it’s so beautifully written.

Antlers and Ivy by @violetclarity (19K)- The thing is, Draco has always known he wouldn’t be able to marry his soulmate. Finding out his soulmate is Harry Potter shouldn’t change anything. Or: soulmarks, a masquerade ball, and gratuitous use of The Daily Prophet as a plot device. A beautiful examination of the soulmate trope, filled with longing that made me ache and a resolution that made me want to cheer.

That Which Marks You by @belleslettres-love (8K)- After the war, Harry is struggling… He knows his heart should be aching from the loss of his loved ones. Instead, he feels nothing. Draco feels everything… cold, hunger, pain from being forced out of the Wizarding world… forced to be a beggar—or worse—just to survive. When Harry sees Draco, shivering on a street corner, he knows one thing: Draco Malfoy is the only one who can make him feel. It starts with dark!Harry which is not my thing usually, but it devolves into cute relationship that we all love.

SLOW BURN

Charming Chocolates by @fantom-ftnoise (100.5K)- The summer following the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry Potter visited his parents' graves and disappeared in a mysterious attack. His wand was recovered but the trail soon went cold and the world moved on. Twelve years later, Remus Lupin discovers James Charming, of Charming Chocolates, a mute man with no memories before July of 1998. James Charming, father of identical twin boys and loving boyfriend to a Scottish Muggle named Monty, is ripped out of his comfortable life and forced to rediscover Hogwarts, magic, and a whole world of past memories. His Mind Healer helps him to balance his new life with his old memories. A rift is formed between James and Monty, and he finds himself wanting to spend more and more time with Healer Malfoy. Meanwhile, Auror Weasley tries to solve the mystery of who is out for Harry Potter's head before it's too late. A breathtaking, heart-warming, story that explores trauma, disability, dysfunctional relationships, family, bravery and love.

Nero su bianco by zuzallove (35K)- September 1997. Hogwarts is under the regime of Voldemort and the Carrows. Finding himself alienated by both his friends and his supposed enemies, Draco puts quill to parchment, and writes letters. He addresses them to the only person he can think of, as Hogwarts rapidly falls into chaos and ruin: Harry Potter. He goes to great lengths to ensure the letters are never discovered, and he’s pretty certain he’s done a great job. Until the day of his trial. Its heartbreakingly sad, beautiful and funny at the same time featuring Trial!Draco required to reveal his feelings/true self in front of the Wizengamot

It actually hurts by @parkkate (52K)- For years, Draco has tried to avoid Harry Potter. He just knows he’ll make a fool out of himself if they spent more than five minutes in a room together. Unfortunately, Potter suddenly seems intent on becoming Draco’s friend, but neither of them are prepared for the inevitable consequences... There is so much love and emotion in this, so much body-positivity and so much pining - it’s simply beautiful.

Never Grow a Wishbone by ShanaStoryteller (65K WIP)- She almost smiles, and true alarm starts to build in his chest. “I’m afraid I’m not here for something so small. Professor Roberts has resigned.” “Good,” Draco says honestly, “Would you like a list of suitable alternatives? I know a number of competent potions masters abroad, but then of course you’d have to hire another teacher to act as the Slytherin head. I’m afraid you’ve dried up all the half decent Slytherin Potions masters.” “Not all of them,” she says quietly. [...] a hogwarts professor au which consists of a lot of world building and lore

CREATURE FIC

Soup-pocalypse and the Great Curry Cataclysm by SquadOfCats (104.5K)- Eleven years after the war, Draco Malfoy leads a quiet, boring, and perfectly respectable life, thanks very much. Or, at least he does, until a sudden and very unexpected veela awakening causes him to throw soup all over Harry Potter in the middle of the Ministry cafeteria. This is a fantastic take on the classic creature fic, which plays into some Veela tropes and turns others on their heads; very funny and warm and realistic drarry, too.

Hush, Darling by @magpiefngrl (23.5K)- Draco is in trouble. To get out of it he needs to seduce Harry Potter. One of the coolest, most original creature fics ever, featuring Draco as an Incubus who's tasked, under threat, with getting something from Harry -- who he makes the mistake of falling in love with.

In The Red by @bixgirl1 (45.5K)- When Harry goes looking for a vampire at a Creature club, the second-to-last thing Harry expects is to find Malfoy working there. The last thing he expects is to fall in love with him. It's so beautifully written I gasped, so hot I died, and so damn good I'm going to reread it for years to come.

ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE(S)

Tangiers by @magpiefngrl (4K)- The one where Harry and Draco are archaeologists, ex boyfriends and seeking the same priceless and possibly cursed object. Featuring a revolver, the spirits of dead monks and a bed they can hardly fit in. Adventurous, sexy and highly relatable, the AU of AUs, ladies and gentlemen, a masterfully crafted tale that feels simultaneously fantastical and down to earth, that includes a substantial backstory that left me wanting more, that presents a version of Harry and Draco that is incredibly true to the characters and kept me on my toes every second.

Purple, Peach and Vibrant Green by @queenofthyme (3.5K)- Draco Malfoy has a waiter pretend to be his date to impress an ex. Of course, it helps when that waiter is exceedingly attractive and happens to be Harry Potter. Solid fic. 5/10. (note from chibi: @jadepresley is very rude to her friends but she actually loves this super cute fic and so will you)

Men Who Love Dragons Too Much by fencer_x, art by @danasauurrr (479K)- [Extensive re-telling of Deathly Hallows] As in Half-blood Prince, Draco is charged by Voldemort with killing Dumbledore—only instead of trying to do his best with the challenge, he realizes he’s been set a futile task and focuses on finding a way to save both himself and his parents. He eventually decides to spend his sixth year studying Animagecraft, convinced it's his best shot at escaping the impossible situation he's found himself in. But just his luck, his Animagus form turns out to be a dragon, and a rather randy juvenile at that, intent on finding its mate: one Harry James Potter. from Big Bang, an inventive and unique story with Draco as a dragon animagus, and a retelling of Deathly Hallows. With art!

Every Me and Every You by @bixgirl1 (69.5K)- Harry liked his life just fine, thankyouverymuch — so it was bad enough when a sly fairy cursed him to leap into alternate realities. But seeing Malfoy in all of them? Definitely way too much. And worse yet: needing the bastard's help to figure out how to get out of of it. It was a disaster waiting to happen, really. Well... probably. Fabulously written, stunningly complex and multi-layered, with sizzling tension between H/D, LEGILIMENCY SEX (and other hot, hot sex), inventively plotted, perfect in every single way.

survival is a talent by ShanaStoryteller (219K WIP)- In the middle of their second year, Draco and Harry discover they're soulmates and do their best to keep it a secret from everyone.Their best isn't perfect. a soulmate au that starts in 2nd year, when harry and draco find out that they’re soulmates - my favorite fic ever

FAMILY / KID!FIC

All I Want For Christmas (Is For You To Stop Talking) by @femmequixotic and @noeeon (163K)- The Niffler's Garden is the most prestigious wizarding nursery school in England and has been for the last century or more. Harry Potter's boys are both enrolled as pupils at the Garden. When he volunteers to assist with the Yule pageant, he has no idea that he'll be working closely with another parent, Draco Malfoy. Although they haven't seen each other much since their own school days, Harry faults Malfoy for not being a hands-on dad to little Scorpius. Will the intense weeks of preparation fan the fires of enmity or something else entirely? This is the most perfect holiday fic ever with children and a pageant and amazing side characters and tons of lovely winter feels!

Sunshine, Fresh Air, Telly, and Time by frnklymrshnkly (32.5K)- Immediately following the war, Andromeda and Harry must look after Teddy. But who will look after them? a wonderfully loving and bittersweet tale of Draco, Harry, and Narcissa living with Andromeda after the war—all raising Teddy as they grieve and heal together.

Failed Application of Thought by RuArcher (67K)- Draco sighed, knowing he would live to regret his next words, “I’m willing to do anything it takes to get Scorpius the life he deserves, even if that means pretending to be madly in love with you, you intolerable buffoon.” This is a fabulous fake dating fic filled with all the feelings you could ever desire, and it has one of my favorite Dracos ever-- I just want to wrap him up and protect him and Scorpius forever!

papa says harry potter helps people by jilliancares (10K)- Draco Malfoy is reintroduced into Harry's life when a little boy enters his shop, lost. The same little boy upends all his bookshelves, which Draco holds himself responsible for. It all kind of escalates from there. contains very adorable Scorpius moments, Harry running a book shop, and Draco and Harry slowly falling for each other.

POST-HOGWARTS

Ynys Afallach (I will give my Love an Apple) by @femmequixotic and @noeeon (42.5K)- Professor Waverley Root's tutorial in the history of magical food is something of a legend at Flamel College. Draco Malfoy wants to apply it to his work in sustainable wizarding agriculture. Harry Potter's taking it for his interest in historical overlap between the magical and Muggle worlds in the West Country. When Root pairs them together, the fireworks (and the apples!) fly. Now if only they can find something original, perhaps they'll make it through to complete their degrees on time. Okay this fic is highly underrated and needs 5x the current kudos- it has university students!drarry, sexual tension out the roof, amazing use of arthurian legend, brilliant magical theory, and is just all around brilliant as fuck!!

Silver Soul by @dracoismytrashson (75K)- It's about a year after the war, and Draco is a bit of a London hipster working at a record store. Harry is lonely and confused about what to do with his life so hanging out with Draco and listening to shoegaze records to pass the time seems like a perfectly viable option. one of my favorite Draco in the Muggle world stories ever. Misunderstandings, softness, snarkiness, shoegaze.

Tell Me the End at the Beginning by @harryromper (36.5K)- St Mungo’s is the last place anyone wants to spend the festive season. Harry finds himself there anyway. Or: Harry's an Auror suspended from duty, Malfoy's wearing the hell out of three-piece suits, Hermione is entirely over everything, and Kreacher just wants to be left alone to decorate for Christmas. Draco Malfoy wears three-piece suits. Like, if that's not enough to convince you, I don't know what is.

Chasing Treacle Tart (and Draco Malfoy) by xErised (23K)- Malfoy, who is sentenced to work as a dinner lady in the Ministry canteen, has an annoying habit of withholding desserts from Harry. Harry puts up with it, but when Malfoy stops him from getting his beloved treacle tart, Harry is determined to do something about it. And Ron? He's really just there for the awkward flirting. This fic is funny, sexy, compelling, and just all around delightful :)

Castle on the Hill by tsundanire/@breathofmine (1.5K)- Based on Ed Sheeran's "Castle on the Hill"Harry takes a "road trip" back to England after spending a few years in Romania working with dragons. It had been 10 years since Harry left, and the honest and pure relationship he built with Malfoy over letters is gorgeous. They both just hope that meeting again after all that time will be just as wonderful. (and it is)

Highly (in)Compatible by @gracie137blogs (37.5K)- Draco’s been shagging The Prat Who Lived on and off for a few months when his soul mark starts to change. Draco’s had to accept a lot of adjustments to his life, but accepting that Harry Potter could be his soulmate is one step too far. It can’t be true? Can it? One of the best takes on soulmates I’ve read with excellent magical theory and an exploration of free will, and which includes a wonderful cast of characters and lots of humour and banter; Draco’s voice here is fantastic.

The Kitchen Thieves (and the Kitchen Herself) by @potteresque_ire (Pie) (67K)- In a deserted cottage miles away from Hogsmeade, two young spirits waited for a new owner to call the place home. One day, Auror Harry Potter bought the cottage. One evening, farm wizard Draco Malfoy showed up to spend the night with Harry...and steal a pepper shaker from the kitchen. Maybe Kate can tell you all about them? She’s the spirit who looks after the kitchen, and she’s got quite a bit to say… Pie took the sentient houses trope and ran with it; utterly unique fic, with incredible rich characterisations and an emotional arc that had me reading the last part through copious (happy) tears.

SMUT

In the dark, the light by Phrynne (32K)- ‘Potter… It’s Malfoy. Do you still want this?’ It started like that. Malfoy’s breath on his ear, his voice low, hot against his skin. Harry shivered, though he could feel the heat from Malfoy’s body just behind him, too close, but not touching him. Even if he could. For the rest of the night, he could do whatever the hell he wanted with Harry. The best bdsm I’ve EVER read.

Whole New Kinds of Weather by @lower-east-side (2.5K)- She’s just as compelling as she’s ever been. Incredible UST, perfect dialogue, scorching, fabulous sex, and Draco as genderqueer: a fic not to be missed.

Kettle by @magpiefngrl (3.5K)- Draco likes to put up a fight. The most tender exploration of hardcore kink within a loving, committed relationship that I've ever read, and hot as hell, too.

In Deep by @lqtraintracks (9K)- Harry isn't sure when he went from hating Malfoy's snide, smug mouth to wanting that mouth all over his cock. Gorgeously hot exploration of BDSM kink in a new relationship that manages to be tender and sweet at the same time.

DEFIES CATEGORIZATION (by me at this time)

Love Him More by @bixgirl1 (17.5K)- A love story. Several of them, really. Delicate, bruising, and uplifting all at once.

The Drarry Sestina by @julcheninred (<1K)- Sometimes I dream I’m bleeding from my scars... This gorgeously written poem took my breath away and left me haunted but ever hopeful for Draco and for the both of them

Dwelling by aideomai (83.5K)- Curses, James and Lily Potter ride again, several Ministry balls, a teenage Summer of Love, a grim young adult dystopian winter, a few different Draco Malfoys, secrets and the problems re: not having any, alternate lives, impossible lives, real lives, allusions to Dirty Dancing, and just because it's not called the Mirror of Erised doesn't mean you shouldn't know better. The most mind-blowing fic I read this year, a story that allows the reader to see how much it does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, besides giving us a delightful relationship development and some seriously hot moments, all wrapped in a glorious package of plot and overall awesomeness.

A Holiday in Provence by @dracoismytrashson (32K)- Harry Potter is turning 50 years old and feeling lonelier than ever. Divorced, retired, and learning he’s not quite as straight as he thought he was, Harry reluctantly accepts a birthday gift from his friends for a week’s stay at an idyllic French vineyard. Too bad Hermione and Ron neglected to mention that the owner of the winery happens to be a certain quick-witted blond Slytherin… The world-building and the dynamic between the characters in this is nothing short of magical.

Memories of Draco Malfoy by ImmortalAcorn (14K)- “He had to live, I knew. Without him there would not be much to see. I guess the world would be just ashes and smoke and blood - that's at least how I imagined it. He had to live. Whatever it would take.” a series of short poems (I guess) about Draco and their relationship. There is another one, from Harrys perspective. They are short but perfect. Angst is real and sooooooo good.

‘Til Our Compass Stands Still by china_nightingale (9K)- "It was an unconventional relationship, if one could call it that. It was the way it had always been - bodies colliding while lips stayed closed, dueling and caressing and ripping one another open while hearts stayed locked safely behind cages covered in bruises from curses and kisses. There were never many words spoken. If they talked, chances were that ugly things would tumble from their tongues like they did so easily during their Hogwarts days." Harry and Draco eventually realise that things don't always go to plan, even if it's a plan they've been carefully crafting to keep themselves safe from each other. a little harsh and gritty, but so full of unspoken love <3

Thank you again to everyone who contributed!!: @dracothecupcake @ebbet @keyflight790 @bixgirl1 @magpiefngrl @hogwartsfirebolt @amrame @bonzicatgirl @lillyevans @harryandhislittledragon @hermionejeangranger @lower-east-side @jadepresley @findingsilencetheymadelove @lqtraintracks @queendomcosplay @threeh plus several anons! <3<3<3

I’ve done my best to tag all the writers whose tumblrs I could locate, but if I’ve missed anyone, please let me know so I can tag them!

#communal 2018 rec list #drarry #drarry fanfiction #drarry recs #rec list #chibarecs #sort of?#there are definitely a few of my own recs mixed in here!!!#as well as a few that I would have recced but y'all beat me to ;)#AND SO MANY I'VE YET TO READ YAY!!!#editing this list is so difficult because I keep wanting to read everything #and worrying I will forget this or that one #i'll be honest making this list was a very selfish endeavor hahaha #i think i'm set for months now #yay!#<3<3<3

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videogamelover99 · 6 years

Text

Waking Days Ch.3 - Vegas Lights

A/N Guess this is back you guys. I’m so glad you’ve been patient with me for so long, and finally this chapter is out. I’m hoping to get posting at least once a month now. For now here’s this chapter. AU by @doodledrawsthings. Based on @pengychan‘s Flat Dreams fic.

“Please tell me that’s not it.” Dipper knelt down in the grass.

“I’m afraid it is.”

“I doesn’t look too bad.” Mabel said, turning her head with a forced smile on her lips.

“It looks horrible.”

“It’ll be okay.”

Stanford laughed at the twins’ bickering, but the laugh was clearly forced. Over the brief period he and his brother visited Dimension 52 the hole grew even more, now taking on a shifting mess of color, glowing an intimidating red that bathed the rest of the tree in an almost demonic hue. Golden thread wove through both sides of the crevice, the physical representation of the effects of the chronometer. It bore close resemblance to a gaping, bleeding wound, held closed by half-attempted stitches. A leftover memory of Bill Cipher’s terror, not that different from what Ford remembered of the Nightmare Realm. It felt wrong just being there.

The Oracle showed up regularly, if it was just to check up on the rift or on the Pines Ford wasn’t sure, but the being soon became an almost normal presence in the household. The visits of his old friend reassured as much as they troubled the scientist. If anything, he should be glad she had agreed to help, but the frequently worried look on her face made Stanford extremely unnerved. If a being with knowledge of the future wore that look, then certainly things weren’t at all good.

If that wasn’t concerning enough, the way Cipher turned tail and left every time Jheselbraum came around certainly was. Ford would almost feel sorry for him if it wasn’t for, well, everything.

Stan, while quite suspicious at first (‘no, she hadn’t tried to possess me. Do you really think I’d fall for that trick again?’) Had quickly warmed up to the oracle. After trying (and failing) to sell some of his junk to her, the conman had somehow decided she was the next best thing since sliced bread.

…

“I’m rich! Finally!”

It was a cool, misty Sunday morning when Stan suddenly burst through the back door, the poor thing squeaking on its hinges, and tossed a packed-looking duffel bag onto the kitchen table. The other members of the Pines family, who just a few seconds ago were eating breakfast, all stared at the new item in bemusement.

“Uh, Grunkle Stan, what’s with the suitcase?” Dipper finally asked, poking the thing lightly with a finger.

“Ooh, are you going on vacation?” Mabel stood on her chair to get a better look.

“We were on a vacation for nine months.” Stanford pointed out, hardly taking his eyes off of the paperback he was reading.

“Oh yeah, but would you really call battling sea monsters every day a real vacation?” Dipper frowned.

“It is for this family.”

“Okay, no, I’m not going on a vacation, though right now that sounds really tempting.” Stan butted in, reaching over Dipper’s shoulder to unzip the duffel bag. Inside was green, and not the kind you find on trees either.

“Wow.” Mabel whistled appreciatively, looking at the bag full of hundred dollar bills in a newfound light.

“Who’d you rob?” Her brother frowned, peering at the cash with a much more wary look.

“Nobody! Nobody that actually needed it, at least.” the old man shrugged.

Ford finally put down the book, eyeing the money. “This isn’t from that pug trafficking incident you told me about, is it?”

“Hey how’d ya guess?”

“Pug trafficking?” Mabel now looked a lot less awed.

“Hey, don’t worry, Sweetie! I promise no dogs were harmed. Scout’s honor.”

“You were never a scout…” Ford muttered, once again picking up his book.

“So anyway, I’m rich. Who knows what I’m going to do with it?”

“Buy a really expensive perfume?”

“Build a new room for Soos.”

“OOH! Buy a trained tiger!”

“Great pitches kids, but nah.” Stan grabbed one of the handles, pulling the money closer. “There’s one place I’ve been dying to go to. Hadn’t been there since my marriage.”

“You got marri-”

“Anyway, waddaya say, Sixer? Ready for some nightlife? Babes? Action?”

Stanford slowly put the book down, and met his twin’s gaze with his own, steely one. “The universe is falling apart at the seams. Our enemy is living under our roof. And you want to drag me to- to- that-”

“Wow, way to ruin the fun. After thirty years in sci-fi land I’d expected ya to lighten up already.”

“You’re sixty, Stan, not exactly ideal age to go gambling, and we don’t have time for this.” The scientist stood up, tucking his paperback under his arm. “I’m going downstairs to figure out how to save the world. Again. You can do whatever you want.” And just like that, he left, leaving his three family members staring at each other in silence.

“Okay, I coulda handled that better.”

“Uh, Grunkle Stan? Why exactly did you want to take Grunkle Ford to Vegas?” Dipper asked.

“Okay, so, I may or may not owe a giant sum of money to someone-”

“Of course.” Dipper rolled his eyes.

“And gun-slinging backup doesn’t hurt...Also fun.”

“I don’t think he’s the type, Grunkle Stan.” Mabel stated sadly.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Bill is.” Dipper mused.

“Wow, okay, no. Could ya imagine having that monstrosity on a road trip? Ugh, I don’t even wanna think about it.”

The girl snorted. “Yeah, I think I can.”

“Speaking of which, where is the little creeper gone?”

“Uh…” The twins shared a look. Mabel shrugged helplessly. “We should probably find him before he burns down the forest or something.”

“Good point.” And with that the two disappeared, leaving Stan alone with an unfinished piece of toast and a bag full of illegal cash.

“Huh. Is that something I should be concerned about?”

Stanley whirled around, bag suddenly clutched to his chest. “Jesus Christ, lady, give an old man a warning!”

Jheselbraum (he got it right, right?) raised an eyebrow, folding her arms and leaning casually on the edge of the table. “Strange, I do not think that man knew his name was going to turn into something explicit. But I suppose it happens.”

“I- what?”

“Nevermind.” The oracle turned her attention to the bag. “And I’m guessing that was 100% legally acquired?” She couldn’t quite hide the amusement in her voice.

“Oh yes. Absolutely.” Stan gave her a sarcastic grin. That grin slipped away quickly, however, as the cogs in his brain began to turn, suddenly giving him an idea as he eyed the woman in front of him. “Say, what’s yer opinion on road trips?”

…

“I can’t believe you talked me into this.” The alien in the shotgun seat shifted uncomfortably, struggling her best to say annoyed. Stan brought the car into the left lane, quickly passing a truck on the side.

“Really? Ya didn’t exactly seem that reluctant goin’.”

“I- We should be working on closing the rift, not, not galavanting on some weekend quest to pay off a guy you stole from.”

“Hey, who said anything about stealing? I was borrowin’.”

“And i suppose the death threats that he leaves in your voice mail are friendly banter?”

“Aw, you’re being sarcastic. And here I thought you were a stick in the mud.”

“...” Nora sat back in her seat, tossing one leg over the other, and stared out the window. Bits of Oregon wildlife flew past them, forrest green melting into a choppy blir as the car flew by at a grand total of 50 miles an hour. The Stanleymobile really needed to upgrade.

It didn’t take long for Stanley to admit the real reason he was reluctant to go alone. Apparently he was completely willing to blow all of his money by himself. No, what got him concerned about bringing Stanford was not company as much as muscle. Owing a lot of money to a crime boss apparently did that to you.

“And what exactly do you want me to do?” She frowned. “Sit there and look pretty?”

“We-ell.” Stan paused, scratching his cheek with one hand, the other resting on the steering wheel. “You can see the future, right?”

“It’s not that simple.” She frowned. “Also sorry for not seeming that excited, but if you were planning to use that to win some easy money, you’re out of luck. My vision doesn’t work that way.”

“And what’s ‘that way’?”

“Complicated.”

“Fine.”

There was silence. Nora didn't really know why she was so antagonistic toward Stanley. So far, the human hadn’t done anything that would deserve it, if the whole using-her-for-gambling thing didn’t count. But there was something in the back of her mind, an itch that was scratching at her, telling her that the man next to her was not what he seemed.

That was truly ridiculous. She looked into his and his brother’s timeline many times. She knew him, just like the rest of the Pines, like the back of her hand. And yet-

Maybe she just wasn’t used to the company. Back in her own dimension, the Oracle had many people with whom she’d conversed. Many came to the mountain to seek her guidance, and the company was always welcome. But there was always some barrier, a wall between her and the other that prevented her from truly- what? Connecting? She was always there to get wisdom and assistance. It was a long time before she could just speak to someone, without needing to be that.

It felt refreshing, but also slightly off-kilter.

“Y’know, that’s not the only reason I wanted to bring Sixer.” Stan’s voice made the woman turn back to him, her thoughts pushed back into a jumbled mess for the time being.

“Oh?”

“He just- hasn’t been sleeping for a while, y’know? And I thought- ‘hey, great idea. Let’s get him to ignore the second end of the world for a while’. Didn’t exactly work, but it’s the thought that counts, right?”

Nora sighed through her nose. “Your brother isn’t like that. You know it.”

“Yeah...yeah.”

“He’s very determined. Very passionate. That isn’t a bad thing.” The woman brought her hands up to fiddle with her pendant, lost in thought. “But it can easily get out of hand.”

“Yeah, I get what ya mean.” Stan frowned, staring straight at the road ahead. “You know, he called me too old to go gambling.”

The woman paused for a moment. “I am one trillion years old, if that makes you feel any better.”

“Huh...wow. Uh...you look younger than your years?”

“Thanks.”

“Though maybe if you stop dressing like it’s the war time…”

The oracle frowned, wrinkling out her skirt. “What’s wrong with the way I dress?”

“Nothing! Way better than wearing a wizard robe, anyway. Just looks like you came straight from the 1940s, is all.”

“Uh huh.”

“Oh hey, by the way, it’s Nora, right?”

“...yes.”

“Huh.” Stan snorted. “Knew a gal named Nora once. Real pain in my ass. You’ve got a lot in common.

Nora rolled her eyes. “Keep driving.”

“Sure thing.”

…

The first thing to assault her eyes were the lights. Hundreds of them, bright neon and colorful, hanging on buildings, advertising food, hotels, casinos. People stood on the sidewalks and threw pamphlets at tourists and passersbys, cards containing contact info of strippers and nightclubs, people yelling, cars honking aggressively, music blaring from hidden speakers, fountain jets raining down, illuminated by multicolor lights. There was so much, too much, it was overwhelming- Nora couldn’t look away. That man on the street- wife walked out on him, having a midlife crisis, taking it out on the girl next to him. The girl- adulterer, before she was even eighteen, raised in the middle of nowhere, wanted a life. What she got was angry drunkards and little pay. The woman on the street, tugging her child after her- married, on vacation, is about to meet her oldest daughter after a year apart. Every person, every place and every conversation had something to offer her, a troubled past, and hopeful or depressing future...She was used to this, used to the rapid fire of her predictions, fates intertwining, alternating, branching out into infinite different scenarios. But there was just so much...

“So, uh, what’d ya think? Worth the trip?”

Nora jumped, whipping around to look at Stanley hero, brother, savior, liar- “Uhh, it’s...something?”

“Come on! City of chance, of risk and it’s ‘something’?”

“It’s just...it’s a lot.”

…

After hustling into the hotel, via underground parking, Stan elbowed his way through the long, carpeted corridors of the hotel lobby, his companion trailing a few paces behind him, looking around at the crowd with wide eyes. The receptionist at the desk eyed both of them with a bored expression. Checking in was the easy part. Trying not to get jumped by a crime boss was another. Stan eyed his phone as he led Nora to the elevators, the bag of cash, discretely covered up by as stack of dirty clothes, over his shoulder. Floor 19 7pm. See me. The vague text sent an uncomfortable prickling feeling down his spine. He’d faced the end of the world, and yet the threat of organized crime still rubed him the wrong way. Call it bad memories. Being stuck in the trunk of a car for 31 hours could do that. He needed to make this quick and high tail outta here. And, Stan quickly reassured himself, he wouldn’t exactly be alone.

Though looking over at the oracle, who now eyed the fancy furniture and decoration with with annoyance, Stan wondered just how much faith he could put in his new inter-dimensional buddy. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her, per say, hell, he’d trust her over the angry yellow demon any day. Still, there was something off about her. Something that Stanley’s instincts had to remind him constantly of. Just how much did Ford really know about this woman? And who said she was who she said she was? Call him paranoid, but when was he not? Came with the trade, so to speak.

“So who are you meeting with? And how much can I bet on your survival?” Nora jumped up on the bed, the obscene amount of comforters bouncing under her weight.

“Nice to get some reassurance for once. And couldn’t you just look and see, anyway? Don’t you know the future?”

“I could…” she shrugged, “but it wouldn’t tell me anything. Not really.”

Well that was vague as hell.

The man grumbled, shouldering his duffel bag. “So your one superpower is basically useless. Well why the hell did I bring ya here then?!”

“That’s what I’ve been asking.”

Stan sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Look, just...I’ma go and had ‘im the cash, hopefully won’t get jumped, and you, uh...do whatever you wanna do. I don’t know, watch TV or something.”

“You didn’t answer the question.”

“What question? Okay, bye!”

And he ran out, slamming the door behind him as he did.

…

He did not find the guy. The vague text message was the only thing he got, and after about an hour of scouting the corridor of Floor 19 Stan finally gave up and shrugged it off, deciding that the cash should be good for something, and made his way downstairs for the one thing this place was truly famous for.

...

“Hey buddy.”

Stan scraped up his tokens and grinned at the speaker lazily. “Yeah?”

The man looked like he was in his late thirties, his face still free of any wrinkles. Dark hair framed his long, oval-shaped face, a pair of expensive-looking spectacles sitting on his hook-shaped nose. “I see you’ve got quite a streak going. I won’t bother you, but I was wondering if you’d be interested in a game against me?”

“What kinda game?”

The man grinned, a golden tooth glinting in the dim lighting. “A game of opportunity.”

“Huh.” Stan watched the man grab a free table, sitting down and gesturing at the older man to follow suit. “I think I like ya already.” He sat down opposite. “So what d’ya want to bet on? Start small?”

The man was still smiling, something that Stan would find unnerving without the buzz of alcohol. “Oh no. There’s a loss far worse than money you can recover. Of course, I’d be needing the same in return.” He leaned in closer. “Time is much more precious than money, my friend.”

It was poker. It was literally just poker, and looking back, Stan kinda wished it wasn’t. Looking at a mystical game of chess or some kind of enchanted contest of weirdness would at least be bearable. His ego would still be intact. But poker? No, even the price of what he lost could not compare to just how humiliated he felt losing at the thing he was best at. But Stan lost, and the man just swept up all at chips, the subdued smile never leaving his stupid, pointy face. “Such a shame, really. I had honestly hoped I’d finally found a worthy opponent. You were close, my friend, but them’s the breaks.”

Stan briefly tore his hands away from his face to sigh, looking at everything but the man. “So what? You said we weren’t betting on cash. Just tell me what ya want so I can go already, you sleazy bastard.”

The man’s face warped into something truly sinister, his smirk spreading across his face. “I already took it, my friend.”

Suddenly, Stan felt like he was hit on the head with something impossibly heavy. Everything spun, his limbs felt incredibly weak, and as he stood up on wobbly legs he felt his spine curve downward a lot more than before. His eyesight was just awful, and it didn’t clear even as he rubbed his eyes. The skin on his hands felt thin and papery, and as the man slowly stumbed out of his seat and towards the hotel elevator, he knew that something was terribly, terribly wrong.

...

While Stanley went off on his quest to pay back what appeared to be the mafia, Nora realized there wasn’t really anything to do for her, not really. Watching television was like subjecting herself to a primitive form of mind-control. She could, of course, meditate, but that grew harder and harder the more time she spent on earth. Everything else was too distracting, too bright and loud for her to find that small empty space to bury her thoughts in. They just came crashing back in after she dispersed them, assaulting her with visions and worries and questions that she, for once, did not want answers to. She’d agreed to come here, why? To get away from Bill, was the immediate answer, but that didn’t work out the way she had wanted it to. Now instead of Bill there was Stanley. Stanley, who argued and made poor excuses and laughed at his won lame jokes in a way that made Nora’s heart ache. It was new, but incredibly familiar, like a case of deja-vu that did not end in a few seconds, but only strengthened every time Stan threw some banter her way. Honestly she’d have preferred Bill sulking around somewhere to this, this open interaction she didn’t have for so, so many years. It wasn’t until Ford’s brother left that she could finally start to sort it all out in her own head.

There was some scrambling behind the door. Nora sighed, opening her eyes. For a second she thought it was the mafia, but as the rest of her five eyes granted her a brief vision, she realized that was not the case. Something was terribly wrong.

The Oracle flung the door open, and a man tumbled into her, almost bringing both of them to the ground. A raspy voice whispered curses under his breath, and Nora finally recognized her human friend. Slowly, she closed the door with her free hand, using the other to help the man onto the bed.

...

“What. Did you do.”

“We-ell, I, uh, hey you know how it is. The city of lights and all that, hadda at least give it a go-” There was a cough, but the voice did not clear up, just as ragged.

“...”

“A-and look, I thought I had pretty good odds, y’know? Been here more than you can count, have way more luck than imaginable, so, y’know…”

“Stanley, please tell me you didn’t make a bet with a god.”

Stan looked to the side, hands fiddling on his lap, and tried to ignore the sudden vicious pain in his back. And the ache in his joints. And the sudden rattle that appeared in his breath. “I can explain.”

Nora glared at him, the pointed look twice as terrifying. “Oh yes please do.”

“So, uh, there was this guy-”

“Oh who am I kidding! I should have known you would do this.” The woman threw her hands up, pacing back and forth in the suite. “I did know you would do this. But I didn’t- I didn’t think this you would be that stupid.”

“Alright, point taken! Now would ya stop trying to insult me every five sec- agh!” The con-man hunched over, his speech suddenly interrupted but a long coughing fit. It tore at his throat and made his chest ache like nothing he had ever felt before. Great. This is how I die. Over a stupid bet.

Wasn’t that how he expected to die, anyway?

The Oracle rolled her eyes, waiting until the hacking stopped and Stan regained his breath. “Right, don’t talk.”

“I got it.” He whined back, his body still fighting to cough up his own lungs.

“So, there was a man? And I suppose he offered you a drink?”

Stan shook, pounding his chest with all the strength his now frail arms could give him. “Was already drunk.”

A frustrated sigh. “And I suppose after you got hammered he offered you a deal?”

“A bet.” he coughed out.

Nora sighed. “But not for money.” She sat down next to him, shoulders hunched over.

“Oh yeah! He said somethn’ all mysterious-y, something like ‘You have-’”

“A loss far worse you can recover.” She finished for him. “I know what timeline this is.”

“Yeah, exactly that...You’re worse than my mother.”

She cracked a smile. “I’m an oracle. I’m worse than anyone’s mother.” Then she frowned. “You look terrible, by the by.”

“Thanks, I kinda guessed.” Stan slowly slid off the couch, straightening his back and heading toward the bathroom at a steady pace. “Well, time to see how well I-”

The scream and crash that came out from behind the door startled Nora to her feet. “Are you alright?”

“I’m hideous!”

“Well, yes.”

His hair was white. Pure white, like a blank sheet of paper or the way the goat looked whenever Mabel was in a mood for playing dress-up. It was still there, thank God, but looked a lot thinner than it did only a few hours ago. The wrinkles that started showing up around the time he hit 40 were somehow only deepened, the now grey-ish skin sagging in places and folding up in others. What was once his face now seemed wrong, an unwarranted glimpse into what he should not be able to see, a punch of an existential crisis right in the gut, a-

“Stanley? Are you alright in there?”

Stan slowly backed away from the mirror, away from- that, shuffling out of the bathroom with more effort than should have been necessary.

Nora stared up at him from the edge of the bed.

“I think I just aged thirty years in one day. And man, I wish that was a joke.”

The Oracle sighed, casting her eyes somewhere Stan couldn’t follow, “You’d bartered on the thirty years you wanted back. And you lost.” She stared at him dead in the eye. “What did you think would happen?”

“I didn’t think anything! That guy-” Stan cut himself off, doubling into a wracking cough that made his aged body hurt in all the places he didn’t know he had.

“Careful, don’t have a heart attack, you’re ninety-two already.” Nora muttered under her breath, and the man wondered if that was a joke, too. “Okay, here’s what’s going to happen.” She stood up, carefully guiding Staney to the armchair in the corner, helping him sit. “You are going to stay here, and hopefully not die by the time I get back. And I,” she stepped back, something settling in her gaze that made the con man shift a little. It was at that moment that he really saw something ancient before him, more ancient than even he felt like right now, and that thought chilled him to the bone. “I’m going to fix this.”

Stan blinked. “Got a plan more detailed than that?”

“Yes.”

“...Care to explain.”

Nora rolled her eyes. “The man that aged you, he’s most likely a lesser god or some kind of spirit. I’ve seen a couple of his type before, but never this bold. Anyway, their ‘deal’ is time. More correctly, lifespan. They barter and bet on the victim’s years, the mortal hoping to gain a few more decades on this plane of existence. Of course, it’s rigged, and the mortal always loses. This kind of gambling, ‘life gambling’, is banned in about 5 billion dimensions. This one as well. Still, I suppose Earth is remote enough to not me noticed by interdimensional relations. Or so they thought.”

“So, okay, he’s some kind of demon life gambler? What’s the point of taking time away though? Does he sell it?”

The Oracle smiled. “No, though that would be a feat to see. They consume it, the life force they take from people. Old gods have so few followers that their powers deplete to almost nothing. The only way they can keep themselves immortal is feeding off regular people.” She shrugged. “Though some of them do it for fun. Life force is still a lot of energy, after all.”

“And you’re- what? Gonna call the space cops on him? Take him for a night on the town?”

“Honestly, who do you take me for?” The Oracle straightened up, turning to head out the door, a smile already forming on her lips. “I’m going to beat him at his own game.”

#gravity falls #fanfiction #human bill au #stanley pines #stanford pines #nora #bill cipher #mabel pines #dipper pines #waking days #i realized there is pretty much no bill in this #instead have some nora and stanley bonding time #yes that title is from p!atd

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seven-oomen · 4 years

Text

Oh, I have many feelings, of many varieties, about Infinity War/Endgame. And for added fun, I saw both films with a group that included a hardcore Steggy shipper who kept going on and on and on about how angry she would be if all the little hints they’d been dropping about them seeing each other again and/or getting to be together again led to nothing, particularly with time travel on the table, and how dare Marvel do that if they didn’t plan to follow through. And I just kept thinking “the sheer audacity… you’ve had multiple openly romantic moments including a kiss, and something approaching closure already. do you know how happy I am when some of my rarer ships just get to be in the same scene together at all? not even interacting, just in the same scene? and don’t even talk to me about ship-baiting, you haven’t even the faintest idea" There was a lot of tongue biting not to be THAT BITCH about it that happened, especially after what Endgame did.

Also, all I’ve really gotten from that whole wolf discourse thing is a reminder how sad I am that no one has brought a Tibetan Mastiff into our store. (Isn’t there some kind of Russian Bear Dog that’s also supposed to be freaking ginormous?) The two biggest I can think of that I’ve seen at work are that Akita who’s around 180-190lbs, and probably around 70-75cm at the shoulder (based off about where I remember him hitting along my leg the time his owner asked me to hold his lead while he ran back to his car for something. I was very glad he’s probably also the most chill dog I’ve ever met), and this Great Dane I haven’t seen come in in a while the top of whose head probably cleared 5ft when he was standing on all fours. Tbf, he was a Harlequin Dane, and I think they tend to be the biggest (I think his owner had like, 3 of them, too.) It does make it funny when people will see someone’s 70lb Lab and be like "wow that dog is huge”, and in my head I’m just like “oh you have no idea…" We did once have both a Leonberger puppy and a French Mastiff puppy come in, both of them at least 40lb and both only about 4 months old, but they never did come back by, so I don’t know how big they finally got. I do remember that the French Mastiff was getting carried around like a baby. Like paws over the shoulders, cradled in their arms, head resting against the side of theirs carried. It was made you both want to coo at the adorableness while also warning the person "oh, you’re gonna regret that in a few months…”

And yeah, one of the things I loved best about some of Stiles and Jackson’s scenes were when Stiles would put up with exactly zero of Jax’s bullshit. Because he sometimes needs reminding that there is a fine line between confidence and arrogance. (Sometimes he’d remind me a little too much of a bully I had to deal with in elementary school, it was cathartic. It was kinda “I like you, but you’re workin’ my last good nerve.”) Although I feel like in this version Malia or Allison would actually be much better at it, because he wouldn’t expect it from either of them (though frankly he grew up with Allie and should really know better.) I feel like eventually he and Stiles will develop that whole “only I’m allowed to give him shit, if you try it I’ll fuck you up” thing, but it’ll take a while. And I’m happy with whatever questions you decide fit with the flow of the story. If most have to wait, or even not ever get totally answered, that’s more than okay.

Well, I’m glad I didn’t interfere with your productivity this time. XD I’d actually occasionally had the thought, but then just decide that there was no way I was gonna actually go there. Then I had to listen to 20 minutes of her telling me about how she’d tried to pack things as discreetly as possible and now couldn’t figure out which box it was and how she hoped it wasn’t one that one of her kids would end up opening at some point, and I was just like, “oh why the hell not, I’m thinking about it again now, anyway." Speaking of such things, can you imagine if any of the current twins made that unfortunate discovery at any point? Like, which ones would it be? Would they tell/show their sibling? Would their respective dads know they did, or would they manage to keep it a secret? Also, ngl, when you mentioned magic wand massagers my brain immediately dove back to Harry Potter for a minute and I laughed so hard I almost cried. Ha, there’s an idea: magically enhanced sex toys. (Noah hasn’t let Stiles see that particular spellbook yet.) And I can’t remember the exact wording but there’s a polyship post I see pop up on tumblr occasionally and one of the last things is something like "Person A and B are home alone and just start casually making out, then things get a bit more hot and heavy, but they know Person C will be home from work soon, so they try to hold out. Person C finally gets home, sees the look on their faces and just sighs in (faux) disappointment and starts taking off their clothes”, and I really feel like that could not be more accurate to those three (any of whom could be A, B, or C at any given time).

In an attempt to salvage something more wholesome from my random musings, I’d like to introduce the idea of Christmas traditions and fluff. (Yes, I know it’s June, but I’ve been hearing radio ads about some Christmas in July thing the Hallmark Channel’s doing next month for days, and have hit some of the Santa episodes in the Futurama rewatch I’ve been doing. So.) Just imagine. Craft Dad Peter making ornaments with his kids. Them pulling out the ones the older kids made in school to make new ones with their younger siblings. Glitter-covered pine cones, construction paper picture frames, crudely painted faux stained glass shapes, popsicle stick snowflakes, craft foam and pom pom snowmen. (They’re gonna end up needing multiple trees.) Making strands of popcorn garland and yelling at Stiles and Jackson because they won’t stop eating the popcorn instead of threading it. Fake mistletoe bunches suddenly festooning every doorway even though no one will admit to hanging it (it was totally Noah.) All the dads breaking out their special seasonal cookie/cake/pie/etc recipes. Chris coordinating with Malia to get all the pictures for their family Christmas card every year because he has the most flexible hours, and always getting an oversize print of the final version to put on the mantle for the season. Allison (and eventually Lydia) transforming the inside of the house into an elegant, homey, wonderland (Ooh, maybe she/they find a box or two of decorations in the Hale vault and surprise Peter and Derek by adding them in one year.) Everybody attempting to pitch in on decorating the outside of the house only for it to descend into a prolonged snowball fight (shhh, I know Cali probably doesn’t see that much snow, just go with it.) Then when they all finally troop in, cold and soaking, Derek makes them the most frankly AMAZING hot chocolate using the recipe he learned from his dad. MATCHING SWEATERS. Ugly sweaters. Matching ugly sweaters. Sing-a-longs and caroling. Trying to implement a Secret Santa system (because jeez that’s a lot of gifts to get), but failing at it every time because “I just couldn’t help myself, I kept finding things that were perfect." Peter buying his husbands the fancy expensive shit they won’t normally let him get away with. Him going way overboard with the kids’ gifts the first few years to make up for lost time. And speaking of Peter pulling either or both Omegas into his lap, you know he can’t resist doing it just to make a "Have you been a good boy this year?/Why don’t you sit on my lap and tell me what you want?” joke at LEAST once a season. At least. Can they even fit everyone’s stockings on the mantle, or do they have to do some creative placement? Do Stiles and Jackson ever stop getting each other little coal-themed gag gifts? Do they get real trees from the Preserve or do they opt for fake trees because no one can remember to water them? (Or would Chris volunteer to do it?) Curling up on the couch under the assorted memory quilts and fluffy blankets to watch Christmas movies and holiday specials, or just watch the lights dancing on the tree (multi-colored on the one in the living room/den, because that’s more cozy, no I’m not taking arguments) and enjoy finally being able to be together (peacefully). Just. All the warm domestic holiday goodness. Uh, presuming of course they celebrate Christmas. If not, please adapt the above to the nearest appropriate, equivalent holiday. I just happened to be feeling inspired, and went the “write what you know” route.

General mood when seeing one of these <3

#ben says stuff #once upon a time comments #my convos with anon #my sleeping pills are kicking in #I'm barely awake #but these deserve to see the light #submission

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infinitehours · 5 years

Text

Chapter 1

This fic is based off of The Haunted Mansion “Story and Song from the Haunted Mansion” audio. It will also be based deeply off of my first impressions of the ride itself when I was a kid going on it those first few times in my life.

Also, if you’re wondering why there isn’t much description on our two main mortals, it’s because I felt it best to leave that up to the imagination (there was never much description in the original either). I know I can’t get away without descriptives for every character though, so I’m not going to try for that, but hopefully it wasn’t too jarring.

~~~

Trigger warnings: ghosts, death concepts/discussions, murder, suicide, abuse, blood, lots of scary stuff (horror), implied sexual abuse, cursing (damn and hell), drug abuse, domestic violence, attempted rape (never completed; in a later chapter).

Other Author notes: There’s supposed to be an audio of the Big Ben chime (to parallel the demonic clock and represent that this is the realm of mortals), but I can’t currently find a way to create this audio file. So. Imagination I guess.

Someone created a recording of the Big Ben clock from Parliament Square. Cars and all, it definitely sounds like a city. I will link it here in case you all want to hear it and use it to help your imagination, but it was NOT made by me, and as such it is NOT officially part of this story:

https://freesound.org/people/Noise%20Cuisine/sounds/47098/

___

Table of Contents Link

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Ch 1: Miss Jackson

Have you ever seen a haunted house? You know the kind I mean. That old dark house that’s usually at the end of a dimly lit street. The windows are broken and boarded, and the shutters hang loose on their hinges. The trees have grown wild, their branches brush against the sides of the weathering house making strange noises in the night. There’s a high vine-covered fence around the property. Is it there to keep somebody out, or is it there to keep something inside? It’s a house that people avoid walking past at night. Strange sounds come from within the walls, and it’s said that eerie lights have been seen both in the attic window and in the graveyard at the side of the house.

Seen, at least….by some….

Our story revolves around this mysterious mansion….

But I’m getting a-head of myself…aren’t I?

So let me ask a different question…

Have you ever been chased?

He was panting the whole way.

Round the corner where the pastor liked to play his accordion.

Over the iron wrought fence that blocked off the alley from the cars.

Through the double doors of the unused library.

Out the back.

Through the nook by J. H. Thomas’ shop.

And over the broken manhole right to the berry-red bench in the tiny cranny.

Michael knew the route like the back of his hand, spent every day of his life traversing it. Or, at least, every day of his High School life, which was the only important part of your life you considered when you’re fresh faced and under twenty.

But they were right behind him, he could swear they were, thumping along and hollering; you could only run for so long. The clock of the church chimed from somewhere a ways away, in Big Ben style; Six PM.

He jostled a trash can on his way, half-heartedly hoping that it might slow his pursuers down as he rounded the corner. The relief that flooded him when his target, a bench, came into his sights was a thankful feeling

For all of five seconds.

Then he was yanked back by his collar, just out of reach of his fragile safety net. Falling to the hard concrete, three faces loomed into his view; three black leather jackets swarming around him and his red hoodie like vultures around a recent bloody kill

Jacob Matheson. The head vulture, front and center, grinning over his recent (and recurring) victim.

He was the son of the owner of the largest retail store in town, which earned him a bit of a celebrity status in the sleepy rurals of northern Virginia. Probably the only reason why he was the leader of his little gang.

“What’s your hurry, huh?

Michael grimaced as a boot came down on his chest

“I…ugh. I was just on my way back home..

“Liar. You live other way.”

“What’s the super special occasion?” Another boy said. “We never see you out anymore, Mikey-Wikey. You wouldn’t go off without at least saying ‘hi’, would you?”

“Our feelings might get hurt. You wouldn’t want that now would you?”

Michael refused to answer that, wincing as the toe of the boot dug deeper into his ribs

“So how you going to make it up to us, huh? How much you got on you?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re a really terrible liar, Mikey.” Jacob gestured towards the others.

Two seconds later and they pried Michael’s hands off of his pockets to start their rummaging

“Nice. A whole twenty.”

“There’s more than that! What’s this?”

The other boy held a miniature keychain of a football, twirling it around on one of his fingers

“That’s mine. Give it back!” Michael lunged, yet the boy had already tossed it to another

The three jeered and danced around him, taking turns with the keychain.

“Ooh. Almost got it that time!

“Gonna practice your jumping skills with us, huh?”

“Good dog!”

“Go get it, boy!

“You think we can teach him to beg?”

“You want it?? You want it?? HA!”

Jacob was last to receive, and Michael turned to him in irritation. “You have my money. You played your little game. Can you just leave already?”

“I don’t know. We just got here.” A murmur of agreement. “What are you doing with this thing anyways? Pining for the good ol’ days when you were still on the team?”

“Aw, Jacob. Can’t you see he misses playing?” One of the other vultures said.

“Oh. I’m sorry. Did I say that too soon? How long’s it been? Four months? Five? Got your leg all healed up nicely?”

One of the boys pretended to make a pass at his left leg, causing him to jerk into the defensive. Jacob flashed a grin at the sight.

“Still not in tip top shape, huh? Considering what happened, playing with this little football is probably the closest thing to a real game you’ll ever going to get for the rest of your life. But don’t worry, Mikey.”

Jacob’s little wicked sneer only grew smug.

“I’m sure the rest of the team will do just fine without you. You were just the water boy, weren’t you? Most benched player ever in ol’ G. H. T. High. Quite the honor.”

Michael gritted his teeth; he never cared too much about playing football, but he also didn’t need to hear this.

“But you can come play with us any time. We don’t mind that you’ve got a bum leg. In fact, how about you go long right now?”

Jacob pulled back with a sinister little smirk and a clear intent to throw it straight to the roof of the nearby apartment building. Unfortunately for him, the football was snatched just before he let it loose.

“Wow, what do you know? A real life wannabe biker gang in their native environment.”

The football’s new owner was a welcome sight. A pink sweater, a black skirt with an embroidered horse, a white blouse, and the look of someone who had just ate a whole bag of sour gummy worms (Jacob and his gang tended to have that effect on people).

“Ugh. It’s the girlfriend. Go away, Karen. Nobody invited you.”

“As if I need an invitation to rain on your parade. If you’ll give back the money that I’m sure you stole, we can be on our way and I won’t have to tell anyone about this.”

A speck of realization later and Jacob was staring at Michael with an even wider grin than before.

“Wait, is SHE why you came out of your house? Date night? OooooOOOoooooh. Kissy kissy.”

The boys started making smooching noises, prompting Karen to let out a sigh of frustation.

“Mr. Vance! Mr. Vance! The jerks are back and they’re threatening your customers!”

“Whine all you want, what’s that old geezer even going to d-“

“Come over here, Mr. Arrow. There’s a bit of vandalism I think you ought to look at.” A much older man in black stained overalls came seemingly from out of nowhere, seemingly gesturing for the chief of police to follow. Jacob’s face dropped.

“Scram!” Jacob said, not even waiting for his friends before booking it straight out of the alley. They were generous, at least, if only in the fact that they threw Michael’s money back in his face.

Mr. Vance watched them retreat and let out a long, drawn out sigh. “You kids okay?”

“As good as can be, I guess.” Mike said.

“Thanks for pretending for us, Mr. Vance.” Karen said.

“A little lie goes a long ways sometimes. I only wish I could convince an officer to hang around here. Could do with a little less thieves. Those three are gotta get their comeuppance sometime.”

“Yeah?” Mike grabbed his keychain. “I’m still waiting for that to happen.”

“Might come sooner than you think. Well…come in then. I’ve got your package in.”

Mr. Vance took out his handkerchief and wiped his brow; the wrinkles that lined an otherwise middle aged face seemed particularly discernable that evening. Coupled with the silvery threads of his hair, anyone who didn’t know any better would have had the man pegged for a senior citizen. But he was very much in his thirty’s, at most, and the reasons for why he looked so aged had often been the subject of discussion in town.

Especially considering that his store was easily one of the most important places around.

The big retailer shop that lay in the heart of town was nice, but they often didn’t carry specialty items (and didn’t appreciate you asking to order them). That was where Mr. Vance and his store came in. Sure, it was tiny and cramped, and there was always a heap of unsightly broken bits of rusted metal in the corners near a large creepy portrait of a woman holding a skull, but there was so much of the place that was filled with mysterious and old objects, books galore, and more candy than you could ever possibly eat in your entire lifetime. The man had no organization to speak of, so whenever a person cared to carouse the shelves they were almost guaranteed to find something wondrously unexpected.

Karen loved it here. As much as Mike liked old nick-knacks himself, it was mostly for her sake that he stepped foot inside time and time again. Whenever she would examine a row of clocks or ancient utensils or even the words on the spine edge of a book, her whole demeanor would brighten up. He loved watching her when they were here, she would always hold a smile on her face as she delicately traced a finger over things that were several times her own age.

Currently, she seemed distracted with an old timey animation device. He couldn’t remember for the life of him what the things were called, but they consisted of a cylinder with slots for viewing, and had an image painted all around the insides. The images were slightly different, so that when the cylinder was turned quickly it would simulate movement. Animation.

Unfortunately, the one that Karen found seemed to be broken. She couldn’t get it to spin, the painted crows were forever stuck in place…

“M-miss Jackson? I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there. You’re here….early.” Mr. Vance said.

Mike looked up….the air somehow felt…colder as his eyes fixated on the lone figure standing in the middle of the room.

The strangely dressed lone figure standing in the middle of the room, who was most certainly not in the middle of the room a few seconds ago.

A deep green dress like a thick moss on a dark forest floor, with a pinstripe blouse and matching apron. Dark brown hair and vivid blue eyes were part and parcel of a face that oddly looked both amused and bored all at once. And the bit of frill and bow on the top of her head seemed to so wonderfully match her attire yet be so terribly out of place in a modern day setting.

She looked like a maid. An old-fashioned maid. A very lost old-fashioned maid, considering that there were no buildings nearby that were large or rich enough to need to hire one.

“My….employer…” There was surprisingly nothing strange or unusual about her voice, “…is rather anxious tonight, so I had hoped to present to him the items I had ordered. If you happen to have them ready, of course.”

“Y-yes…Yes. You…you wouldn’t happen to have come alone, Miss Jackson, would you?”

The girl smiled wistfully. “Are we ever truly alone?”

Mr. Vance visibly gulped. “Right…of…of course not. I-I-I got your package right here. Oh..Michael?”

Mike tore his eyes away from the woman back to the shopkeeper. Mr. Vance’s demeanor seemed….suddenly different. His face had gone a little pale, and there was an almost imperceptible waver in the way his voice cracked.

“Would you…would you mind waiting a bit while I wrap up Miss Jackson’s items here?”

“Uh...Yeah, no problem.”

“Thanks.”

Mike headed over to where Karen had been curiously watching the whole exchange.

“Is there a costume party we weren’t invited to?” He asked her jokingly, earning a smile.

“She looks…kind of familiar. Like I’ve seen her around…just…not in that getup.”

“Yeah…I feel like I’ve seen her around, too. But I don’t think I’ve ever spoken to her before…”

She turned back to the animation device….and found it….spinning. Ever so gently.

The painted crows began to flap their wings, rhythmically in time with the cylinder.

But then…faster. And faster. And furiously faster still, until the image was a seamless representation of the act of flying.

“Mike….” Karen said, the nervousness clear in her tone. The device was not electronic, yet seemed more than willing to move completely on its own.

Even he was a little hesitant to touch it, yet his mind was made up when he could feel the warmth of her fingers clinging to his.

Clap. His hand clamped down on it. When he let go, the device obediently remained still.

“Heh.” Mike’s laugh was more nervous than amused. Karen’s hand squeezed his again. “Must be off balanced or something. Speaking of spooky, though, did you check out the way Mr. Vance was- ”

“Are you going back to the cliffs?” The voice behind him interrupted.

Mike spun around to find himself face to face with the strange woman. Up close, it was more obvious that she couldn’t have been more than a few shades older than either of them, despite her rather timeless attire.

“Yes….we are…” Karen anxiously responded, “But how did you know that?”

“I’ve watched you go up there. The house I stay in happens to be nearby.”

“Where?” Mike butted in, “The only buildings up that way are all abandoned or mostly destroyed. It would be kinda hard to live in any of them. It’s pretty much a ghost town.”

“Yes…” The woman said, a faint smile on her lips. “Yes, you’re right.”

He couldn’t tell what she meant by that. Was she saying that she wasn’t living in any of those buildings?

Karen coughed. “Um. Well I like your dress. The green looks very pretty on you.”

“Oh thank you. I think so too. It also makes my employer uncomfortable and likely brings up awkward memories for him. Which is the other reason why I wear it.”

He and Karen exchanged a funny look. He couldn’t tell which was odder, the fact that she purposely wore something just to make her employer uncomfortable or the fact that she just casually dropped this information to complete strangers like it was a normal subject to talk about.

“Miss Jackson? Your items…” Mr. Vance interrupted.

“Of course.”

The shopkeeper seemed to hesitate as he handed her a bag full of several individually wrapped parcels.

“One of these…you do know one of these things on your list is…”

“Illegal?” The young woman didn’t mince words or even flinch, which is more than what Mr. Vance did in response, “Technically it’s not, if people only bother to read the law anymore. But yes. I’m well aware. But as you are quite aware, my employer is not concerned with legal matters…Anymore.”

“…I’m well aware.” He softly said.

“Will I see you later then?” The young woman said as she turned to leave.

But Mr. Vance kept his head turned away from her and firmly on a broken clock in front of him, eventually squeezing his eyes shut as though he could will her away.

“…Have a good evening then, Mr. Vance.”

“…Same to you, Miss Jackson.”

Before she left the shop proper, the woman turned one last time to Michael and Karen.

“By the way…Tom Sawyer’s road is the faster way back to town if you’re coming from the cliffs. And if you’re ever caught in an unfortunate rainstorm, please do stop by. You’re more than welcome to hide under our awning.”

“We...never go to the cliffs on a rainy day.” Karen said.

“Never say never,” With the twist of a tiny smile, the woman left the shop.

The atmosphere grew quiet.

~~~

And it remained silent for a solid minute.

“…Hey Karen? You can get our stuff, right?”

“Wha-?”

Before she knew it, Mike had just thrusted the twenty in her hands and ran out the door.

“Hey…Mike!”

“What’s he doing?” Mr. Vance said, his brows furrowed in concern.

“I think he’s trying to catch up that woman. Who was she, anyway? I don’t see her often enough around.”

“That’s because she doesn’t live in town. That’s Eleanor Jackson. ‘Nell’ for short. She’s up near the cliffs.”

“Where near the cliffs?”

Mr. Vance handed her two glass bottles of crème soda and a heart shaped package. “I’m sure Michael would be very insistent that you don’t open it until you’re together.”

Purposefully changing the subject.

“…And you said that women asked for something illegal…”

“Now don’t you repeat anything you’ve heard here…”

“I…I won’t. But is everything alright? If she’s forcing you to do something illeg-“

“It’s not like that.”

It was said so forcefully and emotionally that Karen took a step back.

“…It’s not like that.” Mr. Vance said, softer this time, “But you should go and stop Mike. Nothing good will come of him following after Nell like that.”

Package and soda in hand, she started to do just that.

“Karen.”

She paused.

“…Don’t always trust Nell. She often only gives you half of the truth.”

With that statement freshly turning in her head, Karen went out into the alley looking for Mike.

He didn’t get very far; right around the corner he looked up at her sheepishly from the ground, while a friendly face tried unwind a long bit of fishing line.

“I tried catching her, but…”

“I think I ended up catchin’ a young ‘un instead.” Mr. Mortimer flashed a grin at her before untwisting the hook from Mike’s jacket, “You ain’t quite the fish I be looking for, lad.”

Mr. Mortimer was a fisherman. Probably by trade, too, as that’s the only thing she’s ever seen him do. He always had a fishing pole in one hand, his trusty (but peculiar looking) tackle box in the other, a smile on his wrinkled face, and a song on his lips. Very few people in town could ever say that they hated the man, even though he did always smell like fish.

He was also frequently wet, as he claims he never had good balance and constantly fell in. She had no doubts about that. The sight of him trudging around soaked in the frigid air….She often felt freezing just looking at him….

“Are you alright, Mr. Mortimer?” Karen said, offering to help him up. His hands were cold as usual.

“Aye I’m alright, I’m alright. No harm done,” With Karen’s help, he stood steady on his feet again, “But tell me young ‘un, what had you such ‘n a hurry? Who were ya chasin’ after?”

“Some lady we saw at the shop.”

Mr. Mortimer flashed him a joking grin. “Chasin’ after another while you got your young lady here?”

Karen snorted.

“Hey! No! That’s not what I meant! Karen!” Mike didn’t find it as amusing as they did, and gestured her to help him out.

“Mr. Vance said her name is Eleanor Jackson.”

Mr. Mortimer’s eyebrows rose in recognition.

“You know her?” Karen asked.

“Aye.”

“Did she come down this way?” Mike said.

“Sorry, young ‘un, I didn’t see anyone but yourself.”

“But I could have sworn she turned here…”

“She be a sweet girl, no doubt. But you’re best off not followin’ her home, for your own good.”

“Mr. Vance said something like that…” Karen said.

“He be a smart one. Is he in today?”

They nodded. Before they could say anything else, Mr. Mortimer bid them good day and went off to the shop.

“Mr. Vance didn’t want to answer any questions about her either…”

“Everyone’s acting funny about her. I don’t get it.”

“Well…let’s not worry about it anymore. I really want to go to the cliffs tonight before it gets too dark,” She shook the heart shaped parcel slyly, “What’s in the box?”

“Three guesses,” Mike grinned.

“Hmmm,” She held it up to her ear and closed her eyes, as though she could somehow divine the answer, “Caramel chews, sour worms and…black licorice gummy bears?”

“Right on all three counts!”

“Do I get a prize?”

“Do I count? Or are you still mad at me because I went ‘chasing’ after someone else?”

“I guess I can forgive you,” She said coyly, giving him a peck on the cheek.

They walked off together, hand in hand, too distracted with each other to notice the growing storm clouds overhead….

Storm clouds the weatherman never predicted.

Storm clouds that never moved from their position above the woods that led up to the cliffs.

#chapter 1

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unto-myself-together · 7 years

Text

Of Stories and Songs: A Haunted Mansion Fanfic Ch 1

Ok. If I keep going on fretting about how imperfect this chapter is, I’m never going to get it out.

I have now edited a TON of stuff in this chapter.

~~~

Table of Contents:

Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 ,

Chapter 6 , Chapter 7