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gffa · 5 months

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It is still absolutely a marvel to me how much BATFAMILY fic I have been reading and enjoying, it's been awhile since I've gone at such a sustained fever pitch so consistently, which is because this fandom keeps putting out fic that makes me fall in love all over again, along with all the comics I've been reading and enjoying. I am so delighted by how I can bounce around various eras or characters (well, let's be fair, I still have a Dick Grayson Problem That I Am Making Your Problem Too) and there's so much to read that I'm having trouble keeping up!

Join me in having the best problem: Too much good fic to read, because I swear that even when I'm crying because fic has punched me in the feelings, I'm still having a great time and it's definitely not a trap to lure you all into crying with me. Well, unless you're into that. And, in that case, READ AND CRY AND/OR MELT INTO GOO WITH ME, BECAUSE FANDOM IS PROVIDING.

BATFAM FIC RECS - BABY DICK IS THE CUTEST FERAL ROBIN I'M NOT HEARING ANY ARGUMENTS: ✦ Step One: Learning to Catch by TheBlueMoo, dick & bruce, 2k “Okay, now extend your arms.” It was jarring, Bruce reflected, to be taking instructions from his nine-year-old ward. He was trying to think of it as receiving lessons from an expert gymnast instead, but it wasn’t really helping. or Dick freaks out during training one night, and Bruce isn't entirely sure why ✦ the quiet noise by orphan_account, dick & clark & jim (& bruce), 3.4k When Batman is in surgery after a stab wound to the lung, Commissioner Gordon sits with Robin at the hospital as they wait for someone from the league to arrive. ✦ The art of falling in the rain by Bob_the_bastard, dick & bruce & alfred, 3.4k Ordinarily it wouldn’t have been an issue, ordinarily Bruce would have taken a few steps back, caught his breath and continued on. But that night wasn’t normal. ✦ Our roots will not whither away by KrazySuperGirl, dick & bruce & alfred & cast, 6.4k Bruce and Dick return to Gotham. There are plenty of problems and plenty of good days. ✦ Will Protect You From All Around You by zombiesbecrazy, dick & bruce, 3k Bruce has always expected that one day he'll wake up and feel like a Real Adult, but it hasn't happened yet. Why had he thought that this parenting thing would be easy? ✦ Fly South by SonoSvegliato, dick & bruce & alfred, 1.9k Birds fly south in winter. Robin leaves in the summer. ✦ Vertigo by tinycrown, dick & bruce & ollie & cast, 1.8k After being ambushed by Count Vertigo's men, Batman's partner isn't doing so well. Green Arrow observes. ✦ Friends by mx_chrx99, dick & bruce & alfred, 2.3k The manor loomed large, surrounded by acres of manicured grass and trees bursting with autumnal colors that made Dick feel like he was gazing at a forest on fire. He was distantly aware that the scene in front of him was incredible, something out of a storybook. He should have been amazed and even grateful, but all he could think was, 'Mom would have loved this.' ✦ There For You by Val_Creative, dick & bruce & cast, 2.4k Snapshots of how Robin came to be Batman's trusted partner and how Dick became Bruce's beloved son. /Standalone. No pairings. ✦ tummy troubles by brandywine421, dick & bruce & alfred, 1.5k Bruce sat down on the edge of the bed and warily pulled back the covers. Dick blinked at him with wide, sad blue eyes. "What's wrong?" "Don't feel good," he murmured, scowling when Bruce curled his hand against his cheek. "My stomach hurts." ✦ Stay a Child by ijustwanttodestroy, dick & bruce & alfred, 2.2k “Redo it,” Bruce orders. “Aw, come on!” Dick dares to pout — a thing that he uses often, and would work on anyone but Bruce and Alfred. Sometimes. Bruce gives him a look. “I’m not going to do it for you.” “I’m going to misdo it until you do,” Dick threatens. ✦ Whole, but not hale by Fae_Winter, dick & bruce & alfred & clark, 1.5k Bruce was never listening to Clark again, damnit ✦ Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes by catboysam, dick & bruce, 1k Bruce wishes, as he has wished every minute of every day for nearly 20 years, that things were different for himself. But now he also wishes that for Dick. No child should have to experience what they have. But he really is selfish, it seems, because at the same time, how could he possibly want to give up a single second with this little miracle in his arms? ✦ yet to be friends by rxsecret, dick & bruce & clark & cast, 2.3k It's the annual Wayne Gala, and one of the few reporters allowed at the event just so happened to be from Metropolis. ✦ And I’ll look into your eyes to find out if I’m real by Fleur_de_Violette, bruce & dick, 1.6k Bruce wants a lot of things. A bath. Seeing his family. Not having been missing for a whole year. He wants Dick to wake up and realize he’s not a hallucination.

BATFAM FIC RECS - ADULT BATSON AND BATDAD ARE MY KRYPTONITE, I FOLD LIKE WET CARDBOARD FOR THEM: ✦ medicine by daringyounggrayson, dick & bruce, ~1k “We have to get out of here,” Dick says, trying and failing to sit up. “Before, before they get back.” “Dick, listen to me. You’re sick,” Bruce says, running a hand through Dick’s hair. “You’re in an isolation unit at the Watchtower’s medical bay.” Dick shakes his head. That can’t be right. “They’re trying to, to poison me.” ✦ Someday All Of This Will Go Away by WanderIntoFics, dick & bruce, alternate version character death, 2.3k Bruce never stopped telling Dick he loved him. It takes a heart-wrenching and terrifying experience with an alternate future Bruce for Dick to realize that maybe he stopped being able to hear it. ✦ vacation town by daringyounggrayson, dick & bruce, 1.6k Normally, Dick wouldn't enjoy recovering from a stab wound from a poisoned knife, but he has to admit, it's nice to be home. ✦ all i can by emavee, dick & bruce, 1.7k Whatever they injected Dick with is taking away his senses. Bruce tries to hold on for both of them. ✦ my arms will hold you, keep you safe and warm by emavee, dick & bruce, 5.6k wip Five times Dick held Bruce's hand, and one time Bruce held his. ✦ Moving on by Fleur_de_Violette, dick & bruce & cast, 2.7k When he’d been called to Gotham, Dick had expected to do the job and then get moving to the next thing, and then the next, and then the next. An abrupt meeting with the side of a building interrupts his plans.

BATFAM FIC RECS - EVERYBODY LOVES DICK: ✦ Chatterbox by Ptelea, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & donna & roy & cast, 24.7k "Yeah, I'm fine," Dick said. Then he frowned, because he had not just meant to say that. Or: Eight times that spells or serums affected Dick's ability to speak and / or their aftermath. ✦ Misremembered and Misnumbered by miss_aphelion, bruce & dick & jason & clark & diana, 1.9k Dick may not actually be quite as old as he told everyone he was. In his defense, it wasn't so much lying as that he sort of just forgot. ✦ WE'LL LIVE IN SPACES BETWEEN WALLS. by orpheusaki, bruce & dick & jason, time travel, 4.6k (Something is different about Dick. Bruce notices.) ✦ Tonight Will Be a Memory Too by Sohotthateveryonedied, dick & cass & bruce, 1.2k They don’t happen often—once a month or so, with varying degrees of spottiness. Sometimes Dick will walk into a room and forget what he’s there for. He’ll forget the locations of things, like where he left his keys or where the refrigerator is. Once he forgot his own name. Even if the episodes don’t occur often, that doesn’t make them any less terrifying. ✦ Can I Sleep With You? by Lady_of_Lorule, dick & bruce & damian & titans & cast, 2k “Dick? What is it? Are you okay?” he asked. “‘Had a nightmare,” the boy murmured, wiping at his nose quickly, then sending a darting look at Bruce. “Can I...can I sleep with you?” ✦ Broken Silence by Geeves, bruce & dick & cast, 1.3k Bruce reflects on how quiet the manor used to be. It could be painful at times, but it's not like that anymore. ✦ the care and keeping of your baby talon by quandaries_and_contradictions, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian & duke & alfred, reverse robins, talon!dick, 6k In which everyone is more than a little cautious about the talon Duke brought home. Featuring chandelier swinging, Secret Garden reading, ill-advised sleuthing, and more. ✦ One, Two, Buckle My Shoe by Anonymous, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & alfred & cast, 11.3k wip Dick was twenty-eight. The boy in the mirror most certainly was not. ✦ Iron Bound by coyote_nebula, bruce & dick & jason, 3.1k Batman never ran out of solutions. He just ran out of ideal solutions. Nightwing finds himself in a tight spot involving a compact car-sized paper roll. ✦ The Mantle by ValleyOfKings, dick & clark & diana & justice league (& bruce) & cast, 2.9k Batman ‘dies’ and Dick must takes his place. He doesn't want the job but he knows that it is what he must do. He must accept the mantle and protect Gotham. The Justice League must also accept their new Batman. It might have helped if they knew that Batman didn't work as alone as they had once thought. ✦ Bravery, and everything that looks like it by Fleur_de_Violette, bruce & dick & steph, 3.4k Bruce had promised Dick a fun and chill weekend. Instead, they find themselves in the middle of a burning chemical facility. When he thinks everyone should have been evacuated, Nightwing finds a scientist trying to secure some sort of container. She’s either very brave, or she has a death wish.

BATFAM FIC RECS - JASON TODD IS AN ASSHOLE CAT, I'M GONNA THROW HIM AT DICK BECAUSE IT'S FUNNY (AND MAYBE SOME OF HIS OTHER SIBLINGS TOO): ✦ Superhero: Dick Grayson by batmoniker, dick & jason & cast, 5.3k In which Dick shows up at the school to pick Jason up after he gets into a fight. ✦ Homecoming by sElkieNight60, dick & jason & bruce, 1.2k Jason's doped up on pain-meds. Dick's holding his hand while he's bedside monitor. Bruce probably wishes he had a camera. ✦ I do not have wings love (I never will) by dizarys, dick & jason & bruce, 2.5k Jason Todd was alive. He was also bleeding out on Dick Grayson’s apartment floor. How 'Under the Red Hood' might have ended if Dick was at Bruce and Jason's final warehouse confrontation.

BATFAM FIC RECS - BATKIDS ALL HAVE MANY SIBLINGS AND THEY'RE ALL PETTY ASSHOLES AND/OR WONDERFUL BABIES AND I LOVE THEM WITH MY WHOLE BEING: ✦ cashmere-soft and irresistible by victoria_p (musesfool), cass/steph, ~1k Cass and Steph and dumplings and lipstick. ✦ Picking Up Pieces by Cephalogod, bruce & steph & dick, 4k “Bruce!” Steph called as she approached, weaving between people. His head snapped towards her, and the stark relief in his expression almost stopped her in her tracks. That was just...wrong. Bruce wasn’t supposed to be relieved to see her. He was supposed to be annoyed or resignedly amused, not looking at her like a life raft in the ocean. ✦ Make an Ass of U and Me by Huntress79, Sevidri, bruce/clark & dick, 11.2k Bruce neglects to explain exactly who the attractive young man that seems to know him so well is, and what their relationship entails. Naturally, there are some misunderstandings. ✦ Presque Vu by PechoraFlow, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & cass & steph & alfred & cast, 17.4k wip Bruce gets amnesia and the Batfamily conspires to keep their vigilante side secret from him. They were just trying to keep him home, safe until he recovered. They expected that Bruce would pick up on clues and put together The Batman secret on his own. They didn't expect him to form a different picture entirely. They didn't expect Bruce Wayne would come to hate the Batman.

BATFAM FIC RECS - I CUT MY TEETH ON DICK & TIM AS CLOSE BROTHERS AND NO ONE WILL NOT TAKE IT FROM ME: ✦ spread your wings by wingedgrace, dick & tim, 2.1k “Why did you give Robin to Damian?” Dick pinched his nose. He’d started to pick up some of Batman’s habits, whether he realized it or not. “Tim, we’re not talking about this again. We’re talking about how you’re off on this… quest, to prove that Bruce is still alive. And I just want to talk. Come home.” ✦ Time Loop vs Ethiopia by AJElementus, dick & tim (& bruce & jason), 9.1k In one universe, Jason died while Dick was on a space mission with the Titans. In another? There’s a time loop. In which Jason doesn’t die, Tim joins the family early, and Dick... well... Dick's just trying to figure out what's going on! ✦ so won't you stay, won't you stay (with me?) by dizarys, dick & tim, 1.3k Tim's having a hard night. So where else does he go but to his big brother's apartment? ✦ under the wing by acrobats, dick & tim & cast, 1.4k “Sometimes being a brother is even better than being a superhero.” – Marc Brown

BATFAM FIC RECS - I WILL DIE ON THE HILL THAT TIM DRAKE'S TRUE LOVE INTEREST IS CONNER KENT AND NOBODY CAN STOP ME, NOT EVEN GOD: ✦ buy back the secrets by sundiscus, tim/kon & bruce & clark & jason & cast, 71k wip He takes a long, slow breath. Ignores the glares from the other students. “Superboy,” he murmurs. “It’s me. If you’re listening, I could use some help.” Or: 5 times Superboy saves Tim Drake, and one time Tim Drake saves Superboy. ✦ Can't Shake the Feeling by Hayleythewriter, tim/kon & tim/bernard & cassie & bart & dick & damian & cast, 17k Tim introduces his boyfriend to his friends. Almost everyone likes him. ✦ The Electric Pull of Spring by Merelymine, tim/kon, nsfw, 4.3k "I feel fine," Kon says, breathing deeply. He leans towards Tim and takes an even deeper, longer breath. "I feel really, really good, actually. And you smell—you smell really good." ✦ A No Good Very Bad Day by mademoisellePlume, tim/kon & jason & lois, read the tags, 3.7k You’d think drugging a half-Kryptonian into sleep would be half as easy as taking a full Kryptonian out of commission. But no, life couldn’t be that simple for Jason, could it? He watched Superboy stumble down the hallway in his pyjama pants, eyes half-lidded and sweating like Two-Face when a flipped coin balanced on its edge. ✦ Pandora's Other Box by FridaysChild, tim/kon & dick & bart & kate & ma kent, 2.5k Prompt: "Kon and Tim identify as straight. After realising their mutual attraction, they both freak out in different ways."

BATFAM FIC RECS - I SAY THIS IS A BATFAM REC LIST BUT SOMETIMES YOU JUST GOTTA SHOVE THOSE ASSHOLES OUT OF THE WAY AND READ SOME SUPERFIC: ✦ Adoptions by Kannika, clark & conner & cast, 2.7k Clark prepared for a lot of things, getting closer to Conner. This is not one of them. ✦ Aftershock by sElkieNight60, clark/lois & conner & jon, 13k wip He knows this is awkward for Clark. It’s awkward for them both. They were gonna start slow. Warm up to each other. Maybe go apple-picking in the summer. A movie, a restaurant, bowling, or something. But a sleepover, really? That wasn’t going slow. ✦ IS IT JUST YOU AND ME IN THE WRECKAGE OF THE WORLD? by orpheusaki, clark & conner & bruce & diana & jason & cast, 2.2k "You look happy, Kal." She's right, Clark is overjoyed. In between shopping for children's clothes with Lois (after she'd gotten over the shock of it all, which was surprisingly quick. Clark thinks Lois might prefer Conner to him now, not that he blames her for it) and wandering around the Fortress of Solitude with a small palm tucked into his own, Clark hasn't stopped grinning, "Superman is no longer the only Kryptonian alive." (Clark saves Conner from CADMUS as a child AU.)

BATFAM FIC RECS - TAKE THE ANGST DIAL, TURN IT UP TO ELEVEN, AND BREAK THE KNOB OFF, THAT'S WHAT I'M HERE FOR: ✦ oh but if I could choose, I would choose not to feel by dizarys, bruce & dick & donna & cast, 1.4k His eyes flicked over the long room, evaluating and searching. When he finally spotted him, Bruce’s heart plummeted. Dick Grayson was slouched at the crumb flecked bar counter, staring blankly into a barely touched pint with a hand twisted in his hair. Misery personified. ✦ batman by hellsreluctantheir, dick & jason & tim & bruce, 57.3k Dick came back from a trip to space to a dead father figure, a grieving, guilty little brother, and a legacy waiting for him. Suddenly he's moving back to Gotham, playing Bat, trying to keep Jason from spiraling, trying to keep himself from spiraling, with the added bonus of a kid stalking him at the grocery store. It takes two years before things start to feel like they're getting better. Which is right about when the Red Hood comes to town. ✦ Day 3 - Nightmares (2.2) by fanfictiongreenirises, bruce & dick & tim, 3.3k Bruce is resigned to the nightmares after their most recent kidnapping. But that doesn't mean they don't have an impact on him. ✦ My Brother's Keeper by Chemical_Processes, dick & damian & tim & cast, 6.2k Tim gets hit with Fear while on a league mission, and it's Damian's job to get him home in one piece. ✦ Pale Reflections by BearlyWriting, bruce & dick & jason & tim & cast, 2.6k ‘Bruce blinks again. A chill breeze brushes against him, searching for a way through his uniform. Concrete, Bruce tells himself, it’s concrete, not sand. It’s water, not blood. It’s Dick. And yet, he’s as still as Jason was then, as lifeless. Bruce moves without thinking. He isn’t thinking. His mind is utterly blank, a void in his head.’ ✦ love brought weight to this heart by dizarys, bruce & dick & john & mary & damian & duke, 1.9k Of course Dick came by every time Haly’s was in town. But he loved when his family was able to join him. And now, with lights illuminating the big top, performers streaming into the ring with flashy costumes, and his family enthralled, Dick felt at peace. Both sides of his life were together. It should’ve been perfect. And looking back, he still wasn’t sure what pushed it off course. But it might have been the fire. ✦ what's in a name by envysparkler, bruce & dick & jason, 4.5k Kidnappers strike at a gala and abduct two of Bruce Wayne’s sons. Or at least that’s what they think. ✦ I’m gambling with the sun (on which one of us dies young) by dizarys, dick & jason & donna & roy & tim & damian & cassandra & cast, 6.9k The Justice League have been wiped from existence by Pariah, leaving Nightwing to once again navigate the death of Batman. But this time, even with his siblings and friends rallying around him, the cracks start to show ✦ (someone told me) love would all save us by YouAreTheBrightest234 (TransLucas), bruce & dick & tim, 1k Dick is floating in an abyss of black. It is not peaceful, yet not malicious. It simply is. ✦ Slipping 998° by CKBookish, bruce & dick & tim & cast, 2.5k When a house fire turns deadly Bruce wonders if he will be too late... again.

#lumi.txt #dc #batfam #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #bruce wayne #clark kent #conner kent #timkon #fic recs #batman fic recs #long post

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zepskies · 6 months

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Hello. I was wondering if you could write an imagine in the BMD-verse (been following it for a while now; love, love, love it, by the way!) where Ben cries?

Like something really bad happens in general or to the Reader, and he losses it? I mean, personally, I have never known this man to cry, and I would love to see you conjure up something that could possibly elicite that reaction from him.

But no pressure - will definitely understand if you don't want to write it!

Oooh, so you really wanna kill me, huh? 🫠😭😭

Lol it's okay, thank you for loving Break Me Down!! It's one of my favorite story verses that I've been able to create on here. ❤️❤️

This request was difficult for me on multiple levels, but I think I was able to pull it off? (I'll let you be the judge.) This is set in the BMD-verse, shortly after "Love Actually."

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader

Word Count: 2,400 Tags/Warnings: Major angst, show-level violence, hurt/comfort, "twist" ending (you'll want to read until the end, trust me).

Imagine: Ben loses you.

Ben restrained another sigh when he realized you were no longer walking next to him.

He turned and saw you stopping in another damn kiosk, this time looking at a selection of Pashmina scarves. As if you didn’t have enough clothes.

“We’re not here for a damn shopping spree,” he called after you.

He ignored the people who glanced at him as they walked past, a couple of them even shooting him an annoyed look.

One didn’t just stop in the middle of a busy sidewalk in New York City, but as with most societal protocols, Ben couldn't really give a fuck.

He almost started tapping his foot. Instead, he crossed his arms as he glared in your general direction. You were smiling and chatting with the woman selling her wares as you finished the transaction.

Ben at least could admire the view of you bent over in those tight jeans and ankle boots. You also wore the dark green winter coat he bought you last month, lined with faux fur to keep you warm.

When you eventually came back to him, you shot him an amused smile. You held a new scarf in shades of green and blue, to match your coat. But you also held out a new pair of leather gloves for him.

“Here you go, Grumpy. I didn't forget about you,” you teased. He raised a wry brow at you and took the gloves. He inspected them with a half-critical eye.

“And how much did these cost, five cents?”

You rolled your eyes and kept walking. He caught up with you and slipped the gloves into his pocket.

“My hands don’t get cold anyway,” he reminded you. And you often complained that his body heat was like a radiator, especially at night. Although, you hadn’t been complaining since the winter turned frigid this February.

“All right, whatever. Just don’t say I never get you anything,” you quipped. “Besides, you know you love to accessorize.”

A smirk pulled at Ben’s lips. The gloves were a half-assed gift, but he still wore the watch you got him for Christmas proudly on his wrist. That was a nice silver Rolex.

“All I know is, we’d better not be late for this damn meeting,” he said. “I don’t wanna hear Mallory’s fucking mouth.”

The two of you had made a day of coming into the city, hitting a nice brunch spot and ice skating at Rockefeller center before your date had been rudely interrupted—by a call for a new mission.

Grace Mallory had been a bit cryptic on the phone, but it had something to do with the mess Ben left of the drug cartels in South America. After they got back to the States, Ben left that “business” behind…he just hadn’t thought of how that would shake out in Colombia.

So now, you two were headed to the Supe Affairs building. You slipped your arm around his, while his hands were in his pockets. You looked up at him with a smile.

“Try to enjoy the little things, Ben,” you told him. “We had mimosas and some bougie ass lobster tails with our eggs this morning. I skated circles around you on the ice. And now we’re going to get some work done.”

“On our day off,” he retorted.

“To be fair, you made the mess, Mr. Kingpin,” you pointed out. “We’ve just gotta clean it up…as usual.”

“Hey," he eyed you. But you both knew the warning had little heat behind it.

He still reached for your cheek and brushed his thumb across it. He felt how cold your face was, and he stopped for a moment in the middle of the sidewalk. Neither of you cared when pedestrians gave you dirty looks as they passed by.

Maybe you were right though. Maybe he should take stock of the small moments. Ben held your face with both hands and caressed some warmth back into your skin.

Your smile softened, and your eyes closed when his lips found their way to your forehead. He then took the newly bought scarf out of your hand and wrapped it comfortably around your neck.

“What a gentleman,” you said, with a small grin.

Ben smirked down at you…until his face fell.

He heard the whistle of the bullet before he saw it.

It took him another second to move, grabbing you and shielding you with his entire body when it hit his back. The bullet itself bounced harmlessly off his skin, but the inner compartment of Novichok exploded like a small smoke bomb. The smell was too familiar to him to be anything else.

Ben coughed and was forced to push you away from him before the gas reached you. You yelped and almost tripped on your feet, but you scrambled back against the wall of a drycleaners. Your wide eyes met his as his knees buckled; the gas had clouded around his head.

“Run!” he shouted through fits of coughing.

You hesitated, for just a second. But when another bullet ricocheted into the wall behind you, near your head, you ducked and had to take off running.

You wove through the busy sidewalk, pushing people out of your way as you went. Whoever was after him this time, you had a feeling these were the people Ben had pissed off in Colombia.

Fuck! You sprinted past an alleyway and saw the hand coming for your arm, but even when you turned, there was another man, dressed a black military-style uniform with his face covered by a black mask, waiting to grab you from behind.

It was muscle memory. You released an elbow into the man’s neck, a punch straight into his teeth and nose, then kicked his knee out with the heel of your boot.

You grabbed your gun from under your jacket and would've shot him, except the next man wheelhouse kicked it out of your hand. You stepped back on instinct, ducking the following punch, and the rest of his arm to run in the opposite direction.

The first man pointed a large automatic gun straight in your face. You gasped and put your hands up. With a quick glance in either direction, you realized that they’d cornered you.

Your hands were pulled behind your back by someone else. That’s when they started dragging you toward a black SUV parked in the corner.

Except that car was soon destroyed, by an old Honda Civic being shoved into it. The SUV's hood constantined like an accordion.

You looked up with wide eyes, and there stood Ben, at the crossroads of the alley. He was furious.

“Soldier Boy,” greeted the man who once again held the automatic gun poised at you. He pulled down his mask, revealing the tan face of a middle-aged man.

He moved over to you and grabbed your arm from his subordinate. He raised the gun to your back. With one press of his finger, your insides could become Swiss cheese.

Your jaw clenched as you tried to take in even breaths. You focused on Ben. His green eyes met yours, and briefly you caught the worry behind them before his steely gaze moved back to the man who held you.

“Pretty ballsy, Reyes,” Ben said. His voice was a drawl, more controlled than he felt. “You really thought this was gonna go down that easy?”

Reyes scoffed. “You’re the ballsy one. Taking off with all that product you stole.”

“You’ll have to take up with the CIA on that one,” Ben replied. “They confiscated all the smack from my place. Probably reselling it to a few hobos down the street. You’re welcome to check under the bridge over there.”

He gestured in the direction of the Hudson River.

Reyes shrugged. The sound of a gun’s safety being clipped back resounded through the alley. You felt the vibration of it on your back. Your eyes closed for a moment.

“Bad news for her,” he said.

"Hey," Ben snapped. "There's no fucking need for that."

"I think I'll decide what we need," said Reyes. Your lips pursed as the gun dug into your back. "Maybe it's your bitch's insides at your feet."

Ben slowly raised a placating hand. Though his gait was still relaxed and arrogant, as always, you knew it was a well-crafted act. To hide his anger. His fear. To seem in control of himself, and to reinforce the intimidating presence he still was, even unarmed.

“Listen. If it’s money you want, we can work it out,” Ben replied.

His eyes once again found yours. He could see you were holding your breath. You were good at hiding it, but he knew you were scared. He wanted to tell you that he had this handled. That everything would be all right.

He focused on Reyes again. The other man considered the supe with a tilt of his head. He sucked his teeth and spit on the ground, out of the corner of his mouth. It was mixed with a bit of blood from when you'd punched him in the teeth.

“Okay, my friend,” said Reyes. “Let’s work this out. Pull out your phone.”

Ben made slow movements in grabbing his phone from his pocket. They all stepped further into the alley to avoid prying eyes and discussed the transfer of funds, and how much was fair. Ben claimed he was giving him a deal with his first offer.

Reyes demanded three times that amount. Ben raised his brows...but he complied. The money transferred from his bank account.

“Okay, we’re fucking done,” Ben snarked. He gestured at you with his eyes. “Let her go.”

In his mind, he was already contemplating how thoroughly he'd rip Reyes apart for this. After you were safe. He'd have a first class ticket to Medellin by tonight, ready to Colombian-necktie this cocksucker.

Reyes sighed through his nose. There was still about ten feet between him and Ben. He didn't seem to think it was enough. He took the gun off your back and backed up with you a few steps. Eventually, he released your arm.

“Come ‘ere, sweetheart,” Ben reached a hand out, beckoning for you. You met his gaze once again, and let out a subtle breath.

You took three hesitant steps forward.

And the gunshots echoed horribly through the alley.

As it turned out, Reyes always had an escape plan. You were merely the distraction.

It proved effective, as Ben’s protest rang out as soon as the bullets fired. He raced forward and caught you as you stumbled, but his hands soon became coated in your blood; it fled from your back in thin rivulets.

You gasped and clung to his arms. His ears rang with the sound, along with tires squealing and shouts and police sirens. All he could focus on was the color draining from your face.

Both of your breaths came out ragged as he slid with you down to his knees. He brushed your hair away from your face, even as his blood-covered hand stained your cheek. Your pained eyes drew up to his face. You tried to speak, but you didn't have the strength.

“I hear the sirens. They’re coming for you, take you to the hospital,” he promised. His voice was rough, but his throat was tight. His eyes scanned over you. “All you need is my blood and…Christ. Fuck it all.”

He laid you down on the dirty asphalt and hurriedly yanked up his coat sleeve until it ripped. It exposed his arm. He was about to drag a blunt nail across his own skin to bleed into you.

“Ben.” Your fingers twitched against his knee.

When he looked at your face, there was no longer life in your eyes.

His own were wide, almost uncomprehending. His breathing was harsh as empty hands fell to his thighs. His head felt heavy, though his ears were still ringing.

He drew enough strength in his hand to wipe the blood from your cold cheek…but your face was beginning to blur.

Or not, he realized, as the sting in his eyes took him by surprise.

In a fit of mania, he gathered you back up in his arms and ignored the wetness covering your back. He held you, impossibly tight. Tighter than he’d ever held you, because he was alone in the alley…because he was alone again.

And it was his own fault.

His eyes squeezed shut against the burn, but it was futile. Everything was. His breaths were sharp and stifled as pain tore inside. A pain worse than anything the Russian's could've inflicted on him.

His lips pressed against your forehead, trembling there. The first drops of wetness rolled down his cheek. He couldn't stop it from happening, but then again. He guessed he truly was a failure, after all.

You made the mess…

His first tears had been spent at his mother’s funeral, when he stood alone at her gravestone.

His last ones would fall and die with you.

“Ben,” your voice was soft but insistent.

He finally woke with a start. A sharp inhale through his nose.

He had been sleeping on his side. Before he even truly registered where he was, in the safety of his bedroom, he turned his head toward you.

His eyes found your face in the dark, over his shoulder. Your hair was frizzy from sleep. The strap of your nightgown had fallen off one shoulder. Your face looked bleary and tired, but you frowned in concern.

“You okay, baby?” you asked. Your hand soothed across the dewy skin on his arm.

Ben’s throat constricted. He was starting to remember bits and pieces of the dream…the nightmare. He rubbed at his eyes, then dragged a hand over his mouth.

“Yeah,” he said at last.

“Hmm.” Your gaze narrowed at him. “You sure?”

Ben had only enough energy in him to nod in response. His heart was still racing. Maybe you sensed that, because you leaned onto his arm and dropped a hand down his chest. You kissed his bare shoulder with soft lips, and he couldn’t help himself.

He raised a hand to cup the back of your head. He let out a long, relieved sigh through his nose, closing his eyes. Then he turned onto his back and brought you closer, with an arm slipping around your frame and pulling you against his chest. You made a sound of surprise, but you went willingly.

You brushed the sweaty strands of hair away from his face and pressed a kiss against his neck, to his jaw, his cheek and above his brow. He accepted it all and tried to calm his breathing with the feeling of your touch, and the smell of your flowery soap that lingered on your skin.

With a hand still cupping your head, he guided your lips to his. He claimed you slowly, but with purpose. You answered him by tilting your head, deepening the kiss for a moment.

You parted from him just as slowly. You knew everything wasn’t okay, but you also knew it wasn’t the time to push him for an answer.

Maybe in the morning, you thought. …I’ll make pancakes. Haven't done that in a while. And he’s always happier with something sweet.

You rested contentedly against his warm chest and let his heartbeat, gradually slowing back into a steady rhythm, lull you back to sleep.

Ben tangled his fingers into your hair. He laid one more kiss on the top of your head.

And for damn sure, he was going to cancel that trip into the city tomorrow.

AN: I know, I know. The "it was all a dream" thing is super cheesy, but I couldn't leave it on heartbreak. I just don't have it in me with these two. 🥲❤️‍🩹

Read the Sequel:

A friend of mine requested a sequel to this imagine: "You confront Ben about his fears."

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katyawriteswhump · 5 months

Text

Steddie microfic: I got you

Steve loves it when Eddie rubs his chest.

Written for the December @steddiemicrofic prompt ‘pine,’ 508 words. Originally inspired by the ‘pining’ idea, then it evolved and some extra pine turned up elsewhere!

Rating: T. CW: A couple of sexual references. Tags: shameless hurt/comfort, sickfic, fluff.

***

Their first winter, Eddie got sick. Then Steve got sicker. He took to their bed with a cough that scoured his lungs, rattled his ribs. When Eddie arrived, Steve buried his damp face in the pillow. “I’m all gross. G-go away.”

“Sorry, Babe.” Eddie rolled Steve over, fingers skittering soothingly across his brow. “Kinda guilty here. You scored my germs.”

“Always g-got chest infections as a kid.” Steve shivered. “Ask my m-mom.”

“She won’t talk to me, remember?”

“Ugh. Why are my f-family shitheads?” The pang of irritation proved too much. Steve’s next breath jammed in his lungs. A coughing fit consumed him. Eddie helped him sit, rubbed his back till the worst passed. Then Eddie removed his rings—huh?—pulled the covers over them, and spooned Steve from behind.

His warm hand slid under Steve’s t-shirt. He rubbed Steve’s chest, so gently Steve hardly noticed at first.

“I gotcha, Sweetheart. I gothcha.”

Steve’s shuddering breaths fell in sync with Eddie’s caresses, beneath which painfully taut sinews softened. Steve’s chest still burned, his breaths wheezy, but…

…Eddie’s touch got him, somewhere so deep it almost choked him again.

It became a regular thing, in sickness and health. Eddie’s guitar-string callused strokes across Steve’s chest—sometimes firm, sometimes soft—set Steve sighing, groaning, purring like a cat. He even adored the cool slide of Eddie’s rings, especially when they snagged in his hair.

One day, afterward, he littered Eddie’s agile fingers with kisses. “Wanna marry your hands.”

Eddie quirked a brow: “You got a mighty fine chest, Babe.”

Steve grinned, sent his own hands south on a far dirtier mission.

Next winter, Eddie scored a touring gig with a band who’d lost their guitarist. Steve missed him like crazy, ignored that tell-tale tickle in his throat, and went to work—peddling hotdogs in the snow. Eddie called daily around 3am, always losing track of time. Steve mainlined cough medicine and pretended so hard:

“I don’t miss your mess, man. I cleaned the shit out of this place—totally reeks of Pine-Sol.”

“Haha. Miss you too, Stevie.”

“Riiight. If you blow the drummer, I’ll repave the drive with your vinyl collection.”

Steve got sicker. The pine stench of the stupid polish caught on his chest. He coughed himself raw. That night, Eddie didn’t call.

Or, Steve didn’t hear.

When he woke, he tried to sit. Flopped back down. He was shivering, out of water, and coughed till tears streaked his face and blood spattered his hand. Scared now... He drifted, never quite sleeping, coughing less, instead struggling to drag whistling breaths. His bones ached. His head ached worse. Freakin’ terrified…

A gentle touch revived him: “Babe?”

He blinked. Eddie?

“You didn’t answer last night. Caught the first flight home.” Seriously? “Do I need to take you to ER?”

“No,” wheezed Steve.

“Don’t be macho, dude.”

“Need c-cuddle.” That ‘not macho’ enough, Honeypie?

Steve was too sick for decisions, so let Eddie make them. Much later, when Eddie slid into bed behind him and rested a warm hand on his chest, he knew he was mending already.

***

Thank you for reading :) Also posted on my AO3 here

#steddiemicroficdecember #steve harrington whump #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #eddie x steve #steve harrington hurt/comfort #steddiemicrofic #steddie

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1d1195 · 2 months

Text

My Friend's Toyota III

Read the rest here: My Friend's Toyota

~8.9k words

Warnings: Jealous Harry, a little pugnacious today. Nothing crazy, I hope. Mostly silly fluff

This is a bit all over the place. (A filler episode, if you will.) The next (and last part) will be more put together I promise.

She brought their hands to her cold lips and kissed the back of his hand. Harry was certain he was going to start sweating with how warm the gesture was and he couldn’t bring himself to care about how ridiculous it all was.

When the seasons change / Can I still hold your hand? / When we get rain / can I teach you how to dance? / It’s not even November, yet she’s worried ‘bout December / If I can have her in my arms / she won’t worry ‘bout the winter

“This feels ridiculous,” she said to Allie’s ear and tugged at the skirt of her dress, so it bunched in her hand, and she could press it to the outside of her thigh. She wanted the fabric to stretch lower. The chill in the air slid up her legs and under her skirt and it was almost icy. “It’s freezing out.”

“This is sweatshirt weather at best. Have another drink and we’ll stand by the fire,” she giggled. But without Harry to steal a drink from the fridge she didn’t have much choice of drinking.

“I know it’s lame, Al, but I want to study,” she practically groaned. “I haven’t a clue what’s going on in class. I was sick all week. I’m super behind.”

Allie snorted and shook her head. “So just take Harry’s notes and ask him.”

“I’m the one that helps him.”

“Sweetie. You’re twenty-one. It’s Halloweekend. We’re drinking and getting candy from cute college guys.”

The only cute college guy she wanted to see was Harry. But Harry was working and wouldn’t be out till much later. He was insistent that she stay out long enough so he could see her costume. “It’s not special...” she told him, her cheeks reddening at his request. “It... it won’t be like other people’s costumes on Halloween. Even Allie said it was cuter than it was sexy,” she admitted thinking of the Risky Business trio Allie was going to be part of for the evening. She scuffed her shoe on the tile floor outside her Sociology class when Harry inquired about the weekend. She had skipped last Thursday and Tuesday to recover from the cold she had. The sniffle punctuated how childish she felt. Harry was able to read between the lines; she wasn’t planning on wearing little to the imagination like many chose to do so. Allie assured her it was still sexy—in it’s own way—but not too sweet; she wouldn’t look out of place.

But she knew the truth. It would look cute and wholesome on her. That was how the guy described her last Halloween while she was working at a bar down south. Down there she could dress with little layering. She didn’t, but she specifically remembered serving a guy that was drunk and flirty. “I could take you home to Mom in that.”

It was her least favorite pickup line, but she knew it was true. It probably didn’t help that it was an angel costume. But it had always been that way. People like Allie dressed adorably and sexily. Allie, and others more confident than she was, were asked to go home for the night with someone they just met. She was asked to babysit or meet a parent. “I bet you’ll look...” he chuckled and pinched his lip between his thumb and finger as he scanned her up and down. He shook his head and smiled at her as her cheeks flamed at his scan. Despite the fact they had kissed and slept in the same bed (and nothing more) for several nights in the last couple weeks, Harry looking at her like she was... beautiful made her feel completely flushed and overwhelmed. It was insane that someone as popular, someone as handsome, someone so nice on top of everything else, liked her. “I can’t wait t’see it,” he promised. “Should I dress t’match you?”

Her heart skipped a beat. “Really?”

“Well, yeah,” he smiled. “Want everyone t’know you’re all mine.”

She had to bite the inside of her lip to keep herself from smiling large enough to break her cheeks wide open. “I’ll send you the link,” she offered.

Now she had to wait another two hours before Harry was off work and on his way. Allie was already on drink number three and there were still no s’mores supplies by the fire. Even on Halloweekend. It was a real shame. Next time she was going to bring her own.

“But it’s cold,” she whined to Allie.

“Sweetie, it’s not even November. You’re going to need so many layers by the time we get to December.”

No wonder she was sick all week. The chill in the air was killing her. Harry was so kind and while he wanted to dote on her way more than he got to, she was insistent. The kind of insistent he didn’t want to argue with just yet—maybe down the line when they had dated for longer than two weeks. He brought her soup from work and as much as Allie tried to convince her to let Harry stay and wait on her, she was sure she didn’t need Harry getting sick on her behalf. Allie gave Harry a sad smile and a look in her eye that said I tried. For which he was grateful to have her best friend on his side.

Allie was the kind of person to talk to anyone that approached her. Like long lost friends. With her long-tanned legs on display, that meant there were a lot more people to chat with her. The remaining two of her trio came and went to take pictures and make appearances. She was able to chat with most anyone as well, but her introverted self, preferred a one-on-one kind of chat. It also helped when she wasn’t so cold.

The only person she spoke to between those moments of chatting with Allie’s friends, was the freshman pledge standing by the fire, aptly dressed as a firefighter—no shirt of course.

“You come here with her frequently,” he noted when Allie scampered off to dance to the unofficial Risky Business theme song inside with her friends. She enjoyed the warmth because she swore her dress was getting shorter by the second for her southern blood.

“Yeah, she’s my best friend,” she cleared her throat. “Are you stuck on fire duty all year?”

He snorted through his sarcastic little laugh but held a kind smile. He looked so young. She thought being twenty-one was young and somehow this eighteen-year-old guy may as well have been thirteen. “No, just the semester,” he sighed. “Thankfully,” he shook his head. “When you’re not here, you should see some of the things I see.”

She laughed softly. “I can imagine.”

“Do you know anyone besides Allie?”

“No,” she shook her head. “Well, Niall... adjacently,” she amended and shrugged. “He’s friends with my...” she cleared her throat again awkwardly. Harry technically wasn’t her boyfriend. But she didn’t know what to say, suddenly. “With... my friend.”

The guy smiled to himself picking up some empty cups around the fire and tossed them into a nearby bin. She helped as well, bending gracefully so as not to show off her butt. Her knees were stiff with cold, and it felt like her skin was going to break open. “Oh, you mean Harry,” he chuckled. “I was wondering about that status. Everyone is really,” he smirked knowingly. “You’re different than his usual kind of friend,” he didn’t mean anything by it. Just making conversation. But his comment made her heart feel like it weighed about six hundred pounds and sank directly to her feet. She shouldn’t have given it a second thought. Obviously, he wasn’t around long enough to know Harry’s motives or type or anything. Anything he said was basically a rumor. Clearly, her silence was noteworthy. “Hey, I didn’t mean to offend you,” his voice was remorseful and sweet. Especially for an eighteen-year-old. “You just hear a lot by the fire,” he shrugged. “The guy is crazy about you,” he reminded her. “I know I’m just a freshman pledge, but I see a lot. I hear a lot.”

“What was your name again?” She asked. Simultaneously, she wanted the conversation to stop but also wanted to know who he was later on when she had time to ask Allie and her friends. Or even Niall.

He stuck his hand out. “Kyle,” he offered while she shook his hand firmly.

“Kyle,” she repeated. “Well, thank you for keeping me company. Next time, I think we should have s’mores.”

He laughed and rolled his eyes. “My pleasure. You’re fun to talk to,” he smiled. “If Harry didn’t look like he was ready to kill me I would continue the conversation, but,” he pointed behind her and he gave her a wave. “I’ll bring s’mores next time. See ya around,” he meandered back to his station but shifted to the other side of the fire, avoiding Harry’s vision.

She turned to see Harry, pants with the 1960’s themed flower-pants decorating his legs, a brown suede tasseled vest—no shirt, circle glasses with colored lenses, and a chunky peace necklace hung around his neck. The pendant touched just above his navel. How he wasn’t freezing was beyond her. Even in her own dress, long sleeves, with the matching pattern of Harry’s pants, she was nearly shivering because of her bare legs. All those years her mom forced her to wear a jacket while trick or treating—when it was downright warm—were wasted. She wished for a jacket now.

“Hey,” she smiled sweetly.

“Hey, kitten,” he cooed, the irritation in his eyes still just behind the surface. “Y’look beautiful. Y’should wear a flower crown all the time,” he put a hand on her side and kissed her forehead in greeting. Immediately the stares ensued.

“How was work?” She asked.

“Fine, long. Lots of tips tonight,” he grinned, a spark of excitement replacing the irritation immediately. “Can take y’to the fancy restaurant now.”

His hand didn’t move from her side. It warmed her freezing cold body more than the fire did. “We don’t have to do that, Harry. You can save your money. But it does sound nice,” she smiled sweetly.

Harry stepped closer to her. Somehow. She was a good half a foot shorter, even with the chunky heels on that came with the costume. But he still had to bend his neck forward a bit to reach her ear. His hands were on her waist, cupping her hips and she wanted nothing more than to leave this place and snuggle up to him in bed. “I think y’look so sexy,” he whispered.

She blushed, giggled, and shook her head. “I look like I’m about to take the kids I’m babysitting out trick or treating.”

His nose bumped her temple. “No way, kitten. Too sexy t’have a gaggle of kids t’watch on Halloween,” he kissed her head again.

She rested her hands on his bare chest. He was warm. Not cold at all. “Aren’t you cold?” She asked. He chuckled, pulling from her and then wrapping an arm snuggly around her waist. Honestly, pressed to his unclothed skin was the first time in hours she hadn’t felt so cold.

“No, love,” he shook his head. “Have you been freezing?”

“Yes, extremely,” she smiled knowingly. “It’s parka weather.”

He laughed heading toward the house. “It’s barely sweatshirt weather.”

“That’s what Allie said.”

“Where is Miss Allie?”

“Umm...dancing I think,” she sighed. “I envy her confidence.”

Harry pressed his lips to the top of her head, kissed her temple, and smiled against her hair. “Think you’re perfect,” he murmured. No “just as you are” or “like this” was uttered afterwards. It seemed he really meant it.

“Hey!” She naturally perked up. It was between classes—her class at noon was cancelled and she didn’t need to be across campus for another hour. Normally, she scarfed down a protein bar and swung into the coffee shop within one of the dining halls to get another caffeinated beverage to hold her over in the afternoon. It was nice to sit and work on her assignments for a bit. She was lucky to get notes from all her classes—one of her peers in each of them was willing to help her out. She emailed her professors as well explaining how she felt like lukewarm death, and she would stay on top of things and be back on track before they knew it. So really, it was nice to have an extra break between her classes to help her get caught up a little more.

But the voice cut through the din of the dining hall and she looked up to see Kyle.

“Oh, hey, Kyle,” she smiled. She cleared a space at the table and gestured for him to sit.

“I never see you at this time,” he noted. She nodded, explained how her class was cancelled and she was getting caught up since she was sick last week. “How was the rest of your Halloweekend?”

It was lovely. Harry bought her a boatload of candy—so many mini bags of Twix bars and they watched three scary movies that had her snuggled close to him for most of the weekend. Harry made special drinks that looked like green, orange, and purple potions. It was adorable, festive, and just really enjoyable. “It was good,” she grinned, thinking about it fondly. “How was yours? Stuck by the fire?”

He laughed dropping his bag beside the table. “Yeah, basically.”

“Do you want to go get food or something? I’ll be here for a while,” she offered.

“Yeah, thanks, that would be great actually. I’ll be right back.”

While he was gone, she checked her phone to see how Harry was doing in class. This class he usually had to pay the most focused attention to, or he would miss something. My class got out early. I’m in the dining hall if you want to swing by when you’re done. If you can’t it’s okay.

I’d leave right now if I could, kitten 😘

Pay attention 😘

Kyle reappeared with a burger and fries. He also had a bag of carrot sticks which she thought was pretty adorable. He pulled his water bottle from his bag and set it out as well. “Whoa, is that a real class?” He asked.

She laughed. “It’s for one of my math classes.”

“That’s hieroglyphics, actually.”

She shook her head, still smiling. “Not a math fan?”

“I’m in pre-calculus and only because I took the placement test online and had someone help me get to it. I didn’t want to take the lower-level class for no credit and still have to pay for it,” he explained. She nodded understandingly.

“Well, I kind of like math, so if you need help, we could find a time to meet.”

His jaw dropped. “Shut up,” he practically gasped. “You’re kidding.”

“Of course,” she was too sweet. Allie said it was going to kill her one day. But Kyle was nice. “The hard part will be making our schedules match up.”

He sighed with relief stuffing three French fries in his mouth. “Wow, thanks, that’s so nice of you,” he murmured around the bite of his burger next. “I’m glad I sat with you instead of my friends today.”

“Oh?” She smirked.

“Yeah,” he glanced across the room to a booth filled with four boys who were all ogling the pair of them. “They all think I’m crazy for talking to a pretty upperclassman,” he admitted. “I told them I knew you from fire duty, but they didn’t believe me.” Her cheeks definitely warmed at the compliment, and she felt herself under the scrutiny of the whole group. “M’sorry,” he said quickly. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

Kyle was unlike any eighteen-year-old guy she had ever met in her whole life. The guys in her high school wouldn’t have been able to compete. “Do you have a sister?” She asked.

He nodded. “She goes to a different school, but she’s a senior,” that seemed to explain it. His sister was a year older than her. “Why?”

“Your compliments are very kind, and I was just thinking that most guys your age—”

He smiled. “Oh... yeah. The guys all think I’m a huge ladies’ man or something,” he told her with an eye roll. He was brushing it off. But she could see it. In a lot of ways, he reminded her of Harry. “My sister just taught me really well how to talk and treat women.”

“That’s really nice,” she smiled. “Are you seeing someone?”

“No, my older brother is a legacy in this frat, so it’s taken up most of my semester—and before, honestly. I used to come to parties with him when I was still in high school because he wanted to show me the ropes. That’s how I know Harry... kind of, just from observing him and being around the frat life. Where is he, by the way?”

“Class, he should be getting out soon.”

He blanched almost immediately. “Oh, I better go then, I don’t want him—”

“What?” She interrupted with a scoff of laughter in her voice. “You don’t have to go. We’re friends,” she rolled her eyes.

“Um... I think Harry is a bit of the jealous type when it comes to you,” he explained. “I heard he punched someone at one of the parties you didn’t go to because they were talking about you. Plus, the guy in your sociology class wouldn’t keep his mouth shut and Niall had to tell him to shut it, or Harry would shut it for him.”

For a moment, she forgot how to breathe—or exist. She blinked; her eyes closed for a long moment before she looked at him curiously. “I’m sorry, what?” She tilted her head. She had heard rumors of course. The ones of inadequacy, difference of his previous relationships, just complete surprise in Harry being with her in general.

To hear that Harry was jealous—to the point of violence? How did she miss that? “He punched someone?”

“To be honest, I don’t know. I wasn’t in the room. But I know he definitely yelled,” Kyle shrugged taking another bite of his burger. Her jaw dropped.

The rumors didn’t bother her—not for why they should have bothered her. The feeling of inadequacy definitely hurt, but that was something she kind of worked out with Harry on her own. Violent outbursts were too much for her. Hopefully that was nothing more than a rumor. “Hey kitten,” she was lost in thought, didn’t even notice Harry approached. Looking up, she saw him staring at Kyle, seated across from her.

She shook her head to get her brain functioning again. “Oh,” she smiled. “Hi, you’re out early,” she stood up and pecked his cheek. He seemed stiff. Kyle paled while Harry continued staring and she felt so uneasy about seeing jealous Harry firsthand. Poor Kyle began cleaning up his stuff as quickly as he could. She put a hand on his arm to still him and he nearly ripped his arm away from her. Poor thing. “Do you know Kyle?” She asked as if he hadn’t almost taken his whole arm off at her touch. But she noted the way Harry shifted. “He’s usually on fire duty,” she explained sitting back in her seat. “I chatted with him on Halloweekend.”

Harry’s gaze was stiff, cold, and nothing like how he looked at her at all. “Kyle,” he repeated.

“Kyle was telling me he’s struggling with math,” she looked at Harry curiously, almost suspiciously. “You can vouch for me, right? I’m a pretty good tutor,” she giggled, and Harry loosened ever so slightly.

“Yeah, she’s a genius, I think,” Harry slid into the booth seat beside her. He kissed her forehead. “M’jus’ gonna grab a quick snack,” he explained and left his bag beside her.

“What are you doing?” She asked as Kyle continued to clean up his stuff.

The color in Kyle’s face returned to normal and he sighed with relief when Harry left. “He’s gonna kill me.”

“Kyle,” she snorted. “We’re friends. He’ll get over it.”

“My friends are tweaking out over there.”

She glanced at them briefly to see them all snickering and smacking each other at their friend’s discomfort. “I see that,” she rolled her eyes. “He’s just a little protective,” she offered.

“I don’t blame him; you’re very pretty and nice,” he said with a shrug. “I’ve been at a lot of these parties and no one ever gives me the time of day," he murmured right before Harry reappeared.

“Kyle, y’brother was in Niall’s frat,” Harry said placing his food in front of him—a pre-made sandwich and a bottle of apple juice—which she thought was the cutest thing in the world to see a twenty-one-year-old guy who was hotter than the sun drinking a bottle of apple juice with his sandwich. “What was his name?”

Kyle gulped almost audibly; he was so uncomfortable it was palpable in the air. “Uh... Jesse,” he answered eventually. “He graduated last year. But I went to parties a lot. Showed the ropes kind of thing.”

“Ah,” Harry nodded. “Well, thanks for keeping m’girlfriend company. Don’t know if she told you, she’s from the south. So s’pretty cold without the fire,” he placed a hand beneath the table on her thigh. It made her swoon internally.

Girlfriend.

She could feel her whole face soften and the word. Her heart rate began to fly. She glanced at Harry from the corner of her eye to see if he was having a meltdown internally like she was. He wasn’t. It was as if this was just another ordinary moment of her life, and her heart wasn’t screaming.

Kyle must have heard the designation as well because his smile brightened, and she swore his eye twinkled in acknowledgment. “I didn’t know that. Makes a lot of sense,” he seemed a little more at ease now that Harry had turned off the protective tone. But worry was still just below the surface of his eyes. “Uh... would it be cool to get your number to help with the whole tutoring stuff?” He asked looking at his own phone. She wished she could look at Harry’s face when the poor thing asked. Kyle may as well have been asking Harry for it like some kind of dowry.

“Of course,” she said quickly and pulled her phone up to a new contact and handed it to him. She put her hand on Harry’s, still on her leg. She squeezed it while Kyle cleared his throat and passed it back to her.

“Thank you, my... my mom will appreciate the help,” he admitted, shyly.

“Happy to help,” she promised with a smile. “Thanks for keeping me company again.”

His face paled again, Harry’s grip on her thigh tightened at the same time. “I gotta go,” he gestured to his friends still staring at the three of them. “Thanks for the help, see you around.”

As soon as he was gone, she turned more directly to Harry, getting a good view of his profile. He sipped his apple juice. “Did you punch a guy?” She asked. He rolled his eyes and scoffed.

“Of course not.”

“Well, I thought that too, but you almost melted poor Kyle with your laser vision there,” she pressed a hand to the side of his face. Harry smirked under her touch. His cheeks turned the slightest shade of pink.

“M’jus...” he sighed. “Y’have t’understand, kitten. I’ve never felt this way ‘bout someone before. M’not usually the jealous type. Y’can ask Mitch and Sarah. M’not one t’play dick goalie; if someone wanted t’be in a relationship with someone else, m’not gonna make myself sick with worry,” he shrugged. “But you?” He shook his head. “S’like there’s this bug in m’head. The whole picnic was nice, but y’deserve more. M’ready t’do anything t’keep you to myself. T’give you all y’want and more.”

“And you think poor, baby freshman Kyle is going to give me more?” She asked sarcasm dripping in her voice. But it was still kind how she said it. She could hear the worry in Harry’s voice. It was unnecessary, but nonetheless sweet. She couldn’t believe he liked her so much.

“He already has a crush on you,” he grumbled and bit into his sandwich.

“He does not,” but the heat rising to her cheeks didn’t help her case.

“Of course, he does, love,” Harry rolled his eyes. “A hot, upperclassman talking t’a freshman? I’d’ve written our names in a notebook.”

“He’s harmless,” she promised.

“He is, but s’jus’ furthering m’point,” he smiled. “M’literally dating you and ‘ve got a huge crush on you. You’re nice, funny, and beautiful. S’like y’were made in a lab.”

“You forgot I’m good at math,” she teased.

“Don’t remind me. Don’t know why you’re slumming it with me.”

She smiled, shaking her head. “I didn’t know we were boyfriend and girlfriend,” it sounded so cheesy saying it out loud. She hoped he wouldn’t think she was ridiculous but it really ached in her chest.

“Kitten, we have been since y’agreed t’sit with me in class,” he smirked. “Y’should’ve asked,” he kissed the top of her head.

She laughed. “That long?”

“Mhmm...” he hummed and draped his arm around her and pulled her closer. “Did y’think this was just a little fling or something?”

“No,” she cleared her throat. “Or, I hoped not. But...” she shrugged. “I know I’m not like the other girls you’ve dated. And I know I’m kind of lame—”

“Please don’t talk about my lovely girlfriend like that,” he winked cutely. She rolled her eyes.

“I would be extremely jealous if I saw a girl flirting with you,” she told him.

His flirty smile disappeared, a frown replacing his entire face. “I would never make y’jealous intentionally. I haven’t noticed anyone since I met you, kitten,” he promised. “I really don’t want y’to worry ‘bout me. I know y’hear rumors and I can imagine they bug you, but s’all they are. If there’s ever something y’want t’know, y’can ask. I won’t... blame y’for asking.”

“I trust you,” her voice was so firm, she hoped he knew that. This conversation was almost too serious for a dining hall, but she was kind of glad to be talking about all of it. “Really, truly. Allie is gonna take a little longer to believe you, but even she said you act differently around me.”

“S’good to know,” he smirked. “I’ll work on it. M’glad y’trust me.”

She smiled. “You trust me, right?”

“I do, I really do, kitten. Believe me, s’all the guys that are right to flirt with you that make me crazy. They see someone so beautiful and kind,” he shook his head. “M’no better than them, honestly.”

For a moment, she just looked at him. It was hard to believe he was so crazy about her. After all he had told her, and all the issues she had within her mind, making her feel a little insane at times, Harry didn’t care. He assuaged every worry. Every minor little problem or fear she had, he plucked it right out and assured her that everything was lovely.

She leaned upward and pecked his cheek again. “No punching someone,” she said simply. “I have to get to class, are you going to stay here?” She asked.

“Leave you t’walk with the wolves?” He asked, packaging his sandwich up and putting his juice in his bag. “Absolutely, not,” he rolled his eyes. She giggled and she couldn’t help but notice how Harry’s smile brightened as she did.

Prior to university, Harry’s teachers told him and his classmates how they would have so much free time in college. Which was true in a way; Harry had a lot of time to join a club sport, hold down a job, go to the gym, enjoy himself as much as he wanted. However, all those extra curriculars and obligations he gave himself created a packed schedule. The fear of insurmountable debt made him pick up shifts even when he didn’t want to.

It was a miracle he found a girlfriend as busy as he was. If she had more free time, Harry worried she would find someone who had more time for him. But between working, classes, studying, and going for runs with Allie (although she assured Harry that it was mostly walking for the better part of ninety minutes and followed by a half hour of stretching), they mainly saw each other at bedtime.

“I think we’re an old married couple,” Harry murmured into her hair. He loved the feel of her body close to his. Having her in his arms was where he wanted her most.

“We haven’t fought about hair in the shower drain yet,” she reminded him.

“S’because all of it’s in m’mouth right now,” he spluttered, pretending to spit her hair out of his mouth. She twisted around, facing him, he smiled at her. “M’jus’ kidding. I would eat your hair,” he joked.

“You’re insane.”

“’Bout you.”

“Somewhere in the future is a true crime podcast about you murdering me,” she had this habit of placing her hand on his face and skimming her thumb across his cheek. It was soothing, if he wasn’t careful, he would fall asleep before finishing their chat. She threw her voice to do a monologued intro. “He was so handsome. No one suspected that he had a hair fetish that would devolve into full-blown cannibalism.”

He laughed and brought his mouth close to hers. “I wouldn’t eat you, kitten. M’not a psychopath,” he rolled his eyes. “I would probably just keep your body preserved and play house with it.”

She nodded. “Well, that’s a relief.”

He chuckled, rolled his eyes again. “Go to sleep.”

“M’worried you’ll kill me when I’ve let my guard down,” she yawned. “S’always the husband. After twenty-five years of marriage,” she reminded him.

“S’a risk we all take, I think.”

“Can you at least text Allie that she can have my clothes?”

“First on m’to do list after I clean up the blood.”

“I don’t think we should watch scary movies before bed anymore.”

“Yes, dear.”

She giggled. For a few moments they just gazed at one another. Her eyes got droopier, her breath slower. “Good night, Harry,” she whispered.

“Good night, kitten,” he answered just as softly. His tongue was twitching to say three more words. Words that, realistically, he wanted to say the moment he met her. His heart ached to say them as much as his tongue. Part of him wondered if she would say it back. Was it too early? She hadn’t been in love before. He needed it to be special when he said it. Was he prepared if she didn’t say it back?

Her face nuzzled into his collarbone; a sigh escaped her, completely content. He wondered if she was already asleep. Maybe he would just whisper it to her sleeping form for practice. Was he being ridiculous? Was it too soon? No, he never felt like this when he dated before her. “Thanks for being my boyfriend,” her voice was so gentle, so sweet. “I like it a lot.”

He kissed her forehead, his heart cracking under the pressure of how adorable she was. “Pleasure’s all mine, love,” despite how badly he wanted to say it, he wanted it to be more special for her. She deserved that.

Harry called his mum as often as he could to check in. It was usually twice a week and texts every day. He was sitting outside the restaurant in the cold, trying to ease his mind off the packed schedule he had for the next couple weeks. It was hard to believe it was mid-November. Finals and their holiday break would be right around the corner. “Hi honey-bunny,” his mum said into the phone. “You on break?” She asked.

“Yeah, hi Mum; how are you?”

“Missing my baby,” she cooed.

He chuckled. “M’jus’ calling ’cause I have a free minute.”

“Thank you,” she said gratefully. “How’s our leading lady?” She asked.

Harry smiled to himself, despite being alone, his cheeks surely turned pink. Shortly after his breakfast with Mitch, he called his mum to tell her that he met her; the girl he was certain he was going to marry her. “She’s good,” he nearly sighed dreamily. “Do y’want to meet her?” He asked.

“Of course I do!” She nearly cheered. “M’sure she’s lovely.”

“Y’know, her family’s down south. M’not sure what her plans are for the holiday break,” he shrugged. “If she’s stuck here because of flights, could I invite her home?”

“Oh of course! I’ll have to get her a stocking.”

“Er...don’t scare her Mum,” he laughed lightly. “I don’t know if she can yet.”

“Well, you’re certain you’re going to marry her, I better get one anyway.”

His mum was all on board for having a daughter-in-law. One that was sweet and perfect for her little baby boy. Gemma was excited to have someone to poke fun with and truly, she’d always wanted a sister as well. Harry felt his stomach flip at the thought. While his mum was a strong supporter and kind about who Harry fell in love with, Gemma was the slightest bit more skeptical. When he called her earlier in the semester about the pretty girl, Gemma was happy for him. “Harry, you’re very young still. I’m young. Are you sure you want to settle for the first girl you think is the one?”

“S’not settling, Gem. You haven’t met her,” he assured her. “S’not even close to settling,” he promised. “I know m’young...but...��ve wanted t’meet her for a really long time,” he told her. Gemma knew that. Her younger brother, the sweet six-foot giant, had been graced with a heart bigger than anyone she knew. He was empathetic, adoring, and always kind. As much as he hated bugs and spiders, he always wanted them to be saved when they were younger and placed neatly outside so as not to upset their little insect families. Harry dreamed about getting married the first time he had a crush on a pretty girl in his grade school classes. His heart was broken on Valentine’s Day when she didn’t send him a Valentine, but he had pored over his glittery heart craft that he had slipped into her school mailbox. The heartache only lasted a little while—he was only seven at the time—but he wanted love. It was obvious. Gemma and her Mum had cultivated his love of Rom-Coms and they were his first line of advice when he needed help with gifts for the girl he was seeing.

Gemma knew that Harry dated a bit, desperately searching for the lady that he thought would appear long before he went to university. So as much as Gemma tried to quell his excitement over the object of all his affections and remind him how young he was to find the love of his life, Gemma knew that she was different. The way she had captured her brother’s heart so entirely was a beautiful sign.

“Gemma will want to meet her too,” Mum brought him back to the present. His break was waning, and he would need to get back inside momentarily. “I’m really happy you’re happy, Harry.”

His heart felt so whole, it nearly hurt. “Me too, Mum.”

“Have a good rest of your day, honey bunny. Love you.”

“Love you too, Mum, talk to you soon.”

When they walked to class, it was freezing. Even for Harry. Which meant it was probably insufferable for her. Her hands were stuffed in her coat pockets, Harry desperately wanted to hold her hand but couldn’t bring himself to steal it from the warmth inside her jacket. “Y’really wanted t’come up here away from the warmth?” he murmured his question.

The leaves were no longer the warm hues of a sunset colors. They wilted into chestnut, sepia colors and piled along fences outlining the campus. The ground was hard beneath her feet, and she wondered if her coat was going to be thick enough to make it through the winter. She smiled. Her cheeks were wind-blown pink, and her nose was a little runny, but Harry thought she had never looked more beautiful. “Yes, wouldn’t have met you otherwise,” she said immediately. He chuckled, his cheeks turning their own shade of pink.

“Wait till y’see the snow,” he reminded her.

“I’m so excited for snow,” she sounded excited. God, he wanted to hold her hand so badly. She pulled a gloved hand out of her pocket at the very moment and pulled a strand of hair away from her lips. “I need hot chocolate,” she grabbed Harry’s hand between them and squeezed it, making him ache with more adoration for her. “Do you work today?”

He did, but it was a short shift. “Jus’ till nine.”

“So hot chocolate at your place?”

He wondered if she could see the somersaults his heart was doing in his eyes. “Please,” he squeezed her hand back. “I’d love that, kitten.”

Fortunately, Saturday was much warmer than their hot chocolate date. It was still cool, but around the fire, it wasn’t nearly as frigid or achy. Harry once more showed up after his shift. Glancing through the gossip column that was his text messages.

Your girlfriend is awfully cozy with the Fire Marshall.

He knew that it was just to get a rise out of him. He didn’t even have the number saved. But it didn’t mean it didn’t work. After nearly sprinting most of the way from his parking spot to Niall’s house, he had to slow to a walk and take a few laps around the block to ease the anxiety in his mind. Kyle was just her friend. She was kind. She was lovely. Harry knew there was nothing he needed to worry about with her. It wasn’t her.

It was just that she was drop dead gorgeous and Kyle had a massive crush on her. His eye twitched and he rubbed at it as he meandered into the yard. The thought of them having a study session also didn’t help his anxious mind. This was a horrible feeling. He wouldn’t wish it on his worst enemy.

Fortunately, he saw Allie chatting with a group of her friends in the front yard. Some drinking game was definitely happening—it involved cornhole, which he felt of all the games they could have played, it was probably the least dangerous. He gave her a wave. “Hi Harry! She’s out back by the fire!” She shouted. That seemed like Five-Drink-Allie if he had to bet. Poor thing was going to have a killer headache in the morning.

He chuckled, saluted her, and headed around the side of the house. He saw the bonfire and the pair standing by it. They were close together and his heart skipped a beat feeling anxious and hot as he watched while approaching. “S’mores?” He asked.

“Hi, Harry,” she cooed sweetly standing on her toes to kiss his cheek. Almost immediately, the fiery envy in his heart disappeared and was replaced with adoration once more.

“Hi, kitten,” he wrapped his arm around her waist.

“Kyle provided s’mores,” she said knowingly. “Now it’s a real party,” she explained holding the s’mores stick out toward the flame. “Do you like good marshmallows or bad marshmallows?” She asked.

Harry chuckled. “Sounds a bit loaded...What’s a good marshmallow?”

“Not charred on the outside,” Kyle rolled his eyes. A pang of frustration went through Harry over the idea that they had an inside joke he was not privy to. “She’s very serious about this.”

“Golden brown is best,” she explained.

“Sorry kitten, m’a charred s’more kinda guy,” Harry smiled.

She scoffed. “Horrible. Both of you. Wasting marshmallows,” she grumbled.

“M’gonna grab a drink. You’ll be here?” He asked.

“Yeah of course, I think Niall was looking for you,” she added reaching for the chocolate and graham crackers they had placed on a jacket on the ground. It must have been Kyle’s because there was no way she would part with a jacket if she were wearing it, no matter how warm it was by the fire; he was sure her icicle self couldn’t do it. “I’ll make you a gross s’more for when you come back; take your time,” she smiled. Harry winked at her, nodded to Kyle, and headed inside.

He found Niall hovering near the makeshift bar. Grateful he could just ask his friend to sneak him a can directly from the fridge without having to distract the freshman bartender for the tenth time in the semester. “Harry!” He cheered. Niall wasn’t drunk; it took a lot for someone so Irish to get drunk at all. But he was friendly. Harry was certain he would greet him the same way, first thing in the morning. “Mitch and Sarah are here,” he pointed toward a group of people over by the pong table. It looked like a game of quarters this week, but he couldn’t be certain. Niall got closer to him and murmured in his ear while he asked the freshman bartender for something to drink as well. “Is Kyle bugging your lady?” He asked. Niall looked at him knowingly, reading between the lines, Harry knew it wasn’t about her, it was entirely about himself.

“No,” he shook his head. “They’re friends.”

“I can tell him to cool it,” he offered.

Harry nodded. “S’fine,” he promised coolly grateful it was dark, so Niall probably missed the way his eye twitched. Part of him wanted to go steal her away and just take her home. Niall nodded.

“Alright, just checking. He’s a good kid,” he promised.

“Seems it,” Harry agreed. “Game tomorrow?” He asked. Niall nodded, excitedly.

“Yessir,” he saluted and slugged back more of his drink. Harry chuckled circling over to Mitch and Sarah. Sarah was clinging to Mitch. A good sign that she had more than her standard two drinks and was getting a little tipsier than normal.

“I got a great grade on my exam,” she giggled.

Mitch smirked and rolled his eyes. “I see,” Harry laughed. “Celebrating, are we?”

She nodded and held her cup out for Harry to clink with his own plasticky sound. “Is my new best friend coming over tonight for a sleepover? I want those scones she made last week!” Sarah nearly had hearts in her eyes at the thought. Mitch chuckled, kissed the side of her head, while wrapping an arm around her tightly.

“M’sure she can,” Harry chuckled. Allie happened into the room at that point and Harry waved her over.

“Hi!” She chirped and gave Sarah a hug.

“Do you two have plans tomorrow?” Harry asked. “Sarah wants scones.”

“Oh, so do I,” Allie bounced on her toes excitedly.

“You should sleepover too!” Sarah cheered excitedly. “We can put the boys in one room,” she suggested. Mitch snorted and rolled his eyes. He sipped his drink and looked Harry knowingly.

It sounded adorable, honestly. Bringing two facets of his life so close together. But part of him dreaded not spending the night snuggled up to the pretty girl.

“But no, we don’t have plans—I’m not sure if she’s working though...where is—? Oh no,” Allie seemed to sober immediately dropping her cup, spilling it on Mitch and Sarah’s feet before she ran out the back door. Without looking, Harry dropped his cup and the seltzer he had for her and followed suit. He sensed Mitch and Sarah on his heels.

About a foot from the fire, she was standing between Kyle and another guy. Harry didn’t know his name. The s’mores were abandoned, and Kyle had a murderous look in his eye. “Kyle, it’s fine,” she promised as he approached.

“No, it’s not,” he snapped. “Get out of the way,” he ground out to her but she was pressed up against him, her entire back protectively pressed in front of him.

“What are you going to do Freshmeat? Big brother’s not here to get you out of this one,” the other guy taunted shoving Kyle despite the fact she was between them. She smacked his hand.

“Stop it,” she scowled at him. Honestly, Harry thought it would have been cute had he not been so furious.

“Hey!” Allie shouted at the same time Harry shoved the other guy away almost immediately.

“Harry!” She shouted pushing Kyle back another step.

“Back off,” Harry snarled.

“Oh, so you’re okay sharing her with a freshman, but not—”

“I wouldn’t finish that sentence,” Sarah warned.

She was holding Kyle’s arm trying to keep him calm. “Harry, let’s just go,” she whispered nervously. “Please,” she added, her voice catching.

“What did you say to her?” Harry growled, eyeing him. It was obvious he had too much to drink.

“Harry,” Allie warned coming to her side. “It’s okay, let’s just go.”

“You better take care of your girl, Styles. Or someone will do it for you,” he warned. Harry felt so hot with rage it was hotter than the fire.

“Harry,” Mitch said lowly. “Let’s just go,” he repeated.

“I’m getting Niall,” Allie sped back for the house.

Harry set his jaw, glaring at him, and turned his attention briefly to her and Kyle. “Are you alright?” He asked, his voice tight.

She nodded. “Very okay. I just want to go,” she whispered.

Harry backed up toward Kyle and her. He grabbed her hand and tugged her with him as quickly as he could. “Teasing slut,” he muttered lowly.

But not low enough.

Harry smiled, shook his head, and reeled around. “Wanna repeat that?” He asked.

“Harry,” her voice was close to tears, begging. “Harry, please.”

“Hey!” Niall shouted hurrying out the house in front of Allie.

“I said, she’s a ‘teasing slut.’ You’re just lucky you got to her first—”

“HEY!” Niall repeated but Kyle was the one that lunged at the same time.

“Kyle!” She shouted.

Harry yanked the poor kid away and shoved him back toward Mitch and Sarah. “Harry!” She begged again, apparently unafraid to get close to the action. Niall yanked her back just as fast as Harry pulled Kyle away and Harry started to lunge. With Allie and Sarah holding Kyle back, Mitch grabbed Harry before he could throw a single punch. The drunk idiot cackled at the drama and shook his head.

“Let’s go,” Mitch ordered fiercely. She sighed with relief grabbing his arm and pulling him close to her. Niall shoved the other guy back toward the house.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

He almost felt as angry as he was moments ago. “S’not your fault, love,” Niall assured her with a smile. “Harry, y’good?” He asked. Harry nodded stiffly looking at the ground. “Kyle,” Niall looked at the younger one trapped between Sarah and Allie. “You good?”

He nodded once. “M’fine,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Sorry. He was so pushy. I just thought he was trying to drug her or something,” he promised.

Harry tensed up so hard he thought he would tear a muscle just standing there. She shivered. “Thank you, Kyle. But you didn’t need to do all that,” her voice was soft but almost warning—like a mum to her child. “I wasn’t going to drink anything he offered me,” she promised. “You could have gotten really hurt,” she reminded him.

Harry envied her coolness right now. He was fuming and while she was speaking as gently as she could to Kyle, her hand was roaming his arm just as gently. “Worth it,” he promised. They needed to leave quickly, or Harry was going to let all his jealous emotions surge through him.

“I’m ordering an Uber back,” Sarah said. “S’too cold and you’re too hotheaded to walk—you’ll end up sprinting,” she said to Harry. “How many?” She asked. It was determined all five of them would be leaving.

“You’ll watch him?” She asked Niall quietly and gestured toward Kyle who was picking up the trash around the fire.

“Always,” he winked. “Sorry ‘bout the drama, love.”

“Comes with the territory, I think,” she squeezed Harry’s hand.

“You’ll watch him?” Niall asked.

She smiled. “Always.”

Allie did a really good job realizing she was going to throw up the moment she got into Casa Mitch and Harry. “Sarah, can you get some meds and a soda?” She asked.

“You’re the bestest friend there ever was,” Allie moaned laying on the floor beside the toilet. Sarah smirked and handed over the supplies and doubled back for a pillow and a blanket.

“Scones in the morning?” Sarah asked.

“Sounds great,” she smiled sweetly. It was obvious Harry was still on edge. He headed into his bedroom and paced while she finished up with Sarah and Allie.

“You good there, Al?” She asked.

She held up a thumb that sort of leaned a little more than halfway down than it did up. Smirking, she waved to Mitch and Sarah gave her arm a squeeze. “Good night, Harry,” Sarah called gently.

“Shout if you need something, Allie,” she pushed her friend’s hair back and left her to sleep on the cold tile. She quietly closed Harry’s bedroom door and waited while Harry continued pacing.

“What did he say?” He snapped.

“Harry, it’s not—”

“Kitten, m’begging,” he looked at her so hurt, so terribly sad, she nearly caved.

“It was nothing, Harry. It’ll do no good to talk it out. You’ll just get mad—”

“M’jus’ gonna ask Kyle,” Harry was still fuming as he paced.

“Harry,” she repeated. “Please. I’m telling you; it was nothing. Please believe me.”

Harry pressed his head against the window. The lights illuminating the paths to the different buildings were soft and the room was otherwise dark. “M’sorry, kitten,” he mumbled. “M’jus’ mad.”

“I know.”

Harry turned and looked at her. He hardly got a sedcond to look at how pretty she was. “You look beautiful, my love,” he murmured. “S’no wonder y’got him all flustered,” he smirked.

She sighed; the relief palpable in the air. “I’m so sorry.”

“Y’did nothing,” he shook his head. “M’jus...crazy ‘bout you, kitten. I’m sorry,” he grabbed her hands and brought them to his lips. Her fingers were still cold, and he frowned. “M’sorry,” he repeated and blew his breath across her hands to warm them.

She looked utterly distraught. “He’s going to lie,” she croaked suddenly. Her throat closing around the emotion. “He’s going to say I was making out with Kyle or something. It’s not true Harry, you have to know that. Any rumor you hear tomorrow, it’s unequivocally false,” she had tears in her eyes.

“Baby,” Harry whispered. “I would never believe someone over you.”

“No?” She hiccupped softly.

He cupped her face. “Course not, love,” he kissed her forehead, and it melted her icy body so immensely. The first time in an hour that she felt calm. “M’sorry he said something to you, or about you.”

“It’s...it’s okay,” she promised. “I know you’re probably still... jealous of him, or whatever, but I was really glad Kyle was there,” she told him. “I wished you were, but it was good.”

“Don’t ever stand between me and someone that wants t’hurt you,” he warned. The one thing he would probably blame Kyle for from then on.

“Kyle’s just a baby,” she reminded him.

“I don’t want t’talk ‘bout Kyle anymore.”

She giggled. “Okay.”

Harry pulled his shirt over his head. “Let’s go to bed. We have scones t’bake in the morning.”

Harry woke to about thirty messages from a variety of people all claiming to know bits and pieces of everything about last night. Other than Niall’s, he deleted every single message without so much as a glance at the details. Instead, he looked at the sleepy girl, tucked near his chest. He brushed her hair behind her ear.

There was a knock. “Are you naked?” Allie asked. He snorted.

“No,” he murmured quietly.

Despite the fact she had thrown up, she looked pretty good. “I used your toothbrush,” she said climbing into the bed beside her best friend. Harry shook his head.

“Hi Allie,” she murmured.

“Hi sweetie,” she yawned. “You going to make Sarah and I some scones?”

She nodded, tucking her face into Harry’s chest. “In a minute.”

The twin bed was not made for three people and Harry thought it was quite hilarious. “Should I get out t’let y’snuggle?”

“Please,” Allie yawned and threw an arm over her eyes. He chuckled and kissed the sweet girl’s forehead before climbing out of bed.

“Sorry,” she murmured.

“I’ll make sure we have everything,” he suggested. “Need a new toothbrush,” he rolled his eyes.

“I like Harry,” Allie whispered.

“I do too.”

While cleaning their little kitchen, Harry couldn’t stop himself from thinking about how much he loved her. It was becoming impossible to not say it every chance he got. But he wanted it to be special. More special than he could ever describe. He was sure she wouldn’t care, but it meant more to him that it be special. Especially after he flubbed their first real date.

“What?” She smiled as she looked up from the dishes in the sink.

“Do y’want t’go away next weekend?” He asked. “Before finals get too crazy?”

He was envisioning a romantic weekend away at Mitch’s family’s cabin up the mountain. Quiet, cold, for sure, but warm in the cabin. Just the two of them. He could tell her he loved her. No distractions. Shopping in the little town, cooking together in a full kitchen, sleeping by the fireplace, and just sweetness and a special weekend for the pair of them.

“Do I need to bring anything special?” She asked.

“Another coat, probably," he chuckled.

Her smiled was a mixture of relief and happiness. “I would love that.”

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januaryembrs · 1 year

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THE MAKING OF A MAN | Jon Snow x reader

Request: @thingy-mar said — hii!! can i request a jon snow x reader, centered around the reader being a woman and hiding at the nights watch for some reason and shenanigans ensues?

Length: Posing as a man on the night’s watch doesn’t quite go as smoothly as planned when you meet Jon Snow and sweet Sam Tarly.

Trigger Warnings: brief and very subtle hint of the possibility of sexual assault but none happens, I dropped the c bomb twice for the first time in a fic!!, foul language, violence, nudity, fem!body reader.

Author’s note : the way I had make a man out of you from Mulan viciously on REPEAT while I was writing this that was the energy I was going for. I hope you like this! Also! I finally got 1k followers, kisses for every single one of you I love hearing from everyone of you, and I appreciate you all always 🥺❤️

You cursed every god there was for making the North so fucking cold. Mother used to tell you stories of southerners like yourself turning to stone the moment they got too close to the wall, when the air dropped to freezing and the blood in your veins pumped out frost. Usually, you had a thick head of hair to at least keep your neck warm, but that was gone too. Chopped below your ears to give the impression of masculinity.

It was never supposed to be like this. Your family had been starving for the past year, your farm barely getting on without the help of your father since his condition weakened with the rotting fever he caught last Winter. Your brother did the best he could, and you gave up reading to give him the extra set of hands. But you were just a girl, not nearly as strong and efficient as your guilt ridden father who could barely stand let alone plough a field as he could once.

You knew how to hunt, proficiently. But with the cold setting in even further down the continent, animals had become scarce, and you were all withering by the day.

So your meat head of a brother had turned to more drastic measures. He had stolen. Stolen from the wrong wandering lord that so happened to have flashed some silvers. And within a day, the letter had been posted to your door with the midnight black seal, summoning your idiot brother to the Watch as punishment.

Without him, your crops would perish. Your poor mother would starve. The animals would become fragile and die too. Your father would be seen as a disgrace. You simply couldn’t allow it. So you left in the dead of night, cut your hair and muddied your face, hid every aspect of your body that could give the impression of a womanly figure, and headed to the North stowed upon the Night’s Watch carriage.

You dragged your hood further down your face as you watched over the edge of the wall. Duty had been difficult to settle into since you were careful to not talk too much or get too close to anyone in case they were able to decipher the feminine qualities of your face. But it had been three weeks now, and you and two other ‘men’ were stationed on the top of the wall. The nights only made the air that bit more cold to your displeasure, your torch you stood by did little to nothing to keep you warm.

“Not used to the cold?” It broke you out of your self-pitying daze at the sound of a deep voice to your left. Two boys around your age had been chatting amongst one another, not that you’d paid them much attention, but it seemed in their silence they had taken an interest in you.

You froze up, lowering your voice as you had been the few times you’d spoken. “I’m from the south. Everything was much warmer there,” You replied simply.

“Where are you from?” The voice pressed, though you hadn’t glanced their way just yet, hoping they’d just leave you be.

“Ashford,” You replied shortly, biting your lip nervously. The more you spoke, the more chance there was of them realising you were not quite who you said you were.

It was silent for a moment, and you heard the two men shuffling around, as if debating whether to press you further.

“I’m Sam by the way,” You finally turned your head to meet the faces of the two men, not wanting to draw attention to yourself by being completely rude.

Sam had some of the kindest eyes you think you’d ever seen. They stared at you with a hint of skittishness that you assumed was from being sent to the Watch, but as if to encourage you to talk more. His face was soft with youth, and he flashed you a small friendly smile. “This is Jon,” He pointed to his companion. You were much more intimidated by the shadowy eyes you met. His serious brow and expression looked down on you, a complete contradiction to Sam’s gentle face. Sam caught you gawking at Jon with something close to fear at his dark expression and knocked him on the arm lightly as if to prompt him to say something to you.

Jon caught himself in his moody presence, giving you the smallest of nods and almost a smile. “Alright?”

“Jack,” You replied, figuring your brother wouldn’t mind you stealing his name since you already posed as him.

Sam opened his mouth to say something else, when three more men stalked down the length of the wall, your commander leading ahead.

“Shift’s over boys. Go get some supper,” Your superior orders, the men taking over your place at the wall. You walk away before Sam can make any more small talk with you, wishing for nothing but your bed and some quiet.

—

It hadn’t been even two days later when you next saw Jon Snow and sweet Sam Tarly. You were out in the yard sparring under the commander’s watch, and it was safe to say you were not inspiring anyone. Being a girl, though you had been raised doing manual labour, you were not nearly as genetically strong as the grown men around you. Even the boys just turned fourteen were giving you a challenge.

“Pull yourself together, man! That boy hasn’t even dropped his balls yet, and he’s fucking you over!” The commander screamed at you as a measly teenager had again beaten you to the floor. Your face was feverish with embarrassment. You could feel yourself getting stronger by the day, but it was still null in comparison to the surrounding men. You felt pathetic. “The worms they send us these days,” He tutted, ushering forward another boy for you to fight.

You huffed out of anger, the lad not giving you any respite before he lunged at you with his steel sword near missing your plated stomach. After beating his blow away, you went in for your own attack. You caught his face by chance, a small slice across his cheek being all to show for two hours of being knocked on your arse in front of them all. The victory was short-lived however when the younger boy shoved forward and with brute strength you landed on your back yet again.

Your sword went skidding across the cobbles, under the awaiting foot of a large black boot and you felt two sets of eyes on your figure. Laughter resounded throughout your group of weaker men, and you fought back the urge to tear up at the sound. You were purely pathetic.

“Show’s over, lads,” The commander yelled, silencing the laughs to mere giggles as the boy strode away proudly to his newfound friends. You scurried to your feet in fear of looking even smaller than you felt. The commander’s eyes narrowed on your jumpy frame and he walked over to where you stood, your head held low. “Go wash the shit out your trousers and come back to my yard a bigger man tomorrow,”

You nodded meekly as he dismissed you for the day. Turning on your heel and heading back to your room to bathe, the tears brimmed your lash line as you willed yourself not to cry.

Jon and Sam watched you go, the former man reaching down to pick up your weapon from his feet. It was clear you would not last much longer on the watch with your shockingly weak frame, even Sam who was harmless and slow had bested you though he had winced in regret every second. “Poor lad doesn’t have it in him, I know what that’s like,” Sam murmured, your smaller form retreating into the showers. “I’ll take it back to him. Probably doesn’t need the boy top of the class to rub it in,”

“I’m not top of the class,” Jon protested, though he handed the sword over to his friend’s awaiting hand, “I don’t understand how a boy so weak could have made it to the Night’s Watch,”

“Seems like a quiet type to me. It’s them ones you’ve got to watch out for, my mother always told me.” The Tarly boy replied, heading after you with your sword in hand.

—

Even the bastard showers were cold at the night's watch. At least at home you could warm water in front of an open flame for a bath, you thought. Here there was not nearly enough water for each man to have a bath, instead they collected snow from the roof of the keep and drained it into a storage tank on the roof to fall naturally as a shower when the hatch was opened. It was painful, as if needles were falling onto your skin and burrowing their way in with every drop, but it was the only place people would leave you alone.

And alone and crying in the freezing showers you were.

That was until you heard the latch unlock on the door, and heavy footsteps enter the small damp room. Oh god, please no.

“Y/n? You left your sword,” You breathed a sigh of heavy relief when you realised it was Sweet faced Sam, not someone more nefarious with heinous intent for the weak boy crying in the shower, that would get a hell of a shock when they realised he in fact had no cock and a pair of tits. Though that relief soon melted into horror when you realised he was coming closer to where you stood. Is this what men did? Invade each other’s privacy so easily? You would have never had another woman come so close had she known you were nude, but here was Sweet Sam Tarly coming closer as if he was simply asking how your mother was or if the crops had been good this year.

Sweet Sam Tarly that was now behind you, talking to you as if he wasn’t about to find out your best kept secret.

“-and I said to Jon he shouldn’t be the one to bring it to you, I didn’t think it would be nice for the best fighter they have to return your weapon to you. It would rub salt into the wound, wouldn’t it? It would be like-” Sam chattered on happily and you cursed his sweet sweet nature as you looked down at where you stood facing the wall, tits bare and cunt free for the world to see.

“Sam,” You cut him off sternly, one hand trying to hide your top half, “Just put the sword down there please,” You pointed to where your clothes lay.

“Oh! Yeah, of course.” He did as you asked, and noticed how stiff you stood, as if afraid of him. “Are you okay?” You heard him shuffle closer, “I didn’t frighten you did I-”

“Sam! Stay there!” You ordered, mind racing what to tell the boy who didn’t listen since you could still hear him coming closer to comfort you. You must have turned your head enough for him to see where you had been crying, and it only made the gentle boy even more worried for his new friend’s wellbeing as he stepped closer yet again.

“Oh, don’t cry lad. We all cry sometimes. I cried just last night, thought my toes had dropped off after our night shift and I feared of what I’d find when I took my shoes off.” Another step closer, this time a hand on your shoulder, “But it’s okay, we’re brothers now. And brothers talk to each other about everything,” You could feel him leaning forward as to give you a hug, fully aware that you were still nude. Is this what men do? Men were weird, you concluded.

Either way, your secret was completely fucked if he reached around and saw the two lumps of fat that stood you out from the rest, that you still very much did not want him to feel.

“Sam, no!” You turned around to push him away, and the poor boy looked as though you had slapped him. That is until his gaze dropped almost immediately, as men’s eyes do, and he saw the two enlarged breasts staring back at him in a way no man would normally grow.

His mouth dropped open into an ‘O’ shape as he trailed down to your wide hips, thick thighs and your very obvious lack of dick that you covered with your hand before he could look for too long. His innocent blue eyes rushed back up to your face and suddenly everything about your face was feminine. He had always thought you had a weirdly pretty face for a man, and even the rounded shape of your arse had startled him when he had entered the bathing room, though he had simply thought it was being surrounded by men for weeks on end fogging his lust. He saw the fright in your eyes, and it all clicked for him your predicament.

You were a woman, posing on the Night’s Watch as a man. And you were most certainly not supposed to be here.

“Sam please,” You begged, stepping forward to hold his arm in desperation, “Please do not tell anyone of this,”

“You’re a- You have tits and a - SEVEN HELLS,” He stepped back in shock when he took another look at your cunt as if he didn’t believe his eyes the first time, “YOU HAVE-”

“Sam, please calm down,” He ripped his fur off his shoulder to cover you up despite the fact you had your own clothes.

“I’m ever so sorry, My Lady. I would have never burst in here had I know,” He fussed over you, making sure you were shielded from his view.

“I’m not a lady, I’m just a farmer’s girl,” You ordered as he went to undo his jacket so that he could cover your bare arms. Even when you had thrust a very dangerous secret upon him, he was incredibly kind. Your heart warmed as his rosy red cheeks trailed up to your face, taking in your face as if he hadn’t spent the past three weeks with you. “You can’t tell anyone of this,”

“You need to leave, it’s not safe for you here,” He urged, “Some of these boys will do a lot worse than just come into the showers while you’re here. And even the rational ones haven’t seen a woman in months, you don’t know what they might do,” Sweet Sam Tarly tucked your wet hair over your shoulder so it wouldn’t stick to your face.

You sighed, knowing he was telling the truth, “If I confess now they’ll behead me for lying and treachery. And then they’ll kill my brother for allowing a woman to serve in his place. I’m only here because my parent’s farm would not survive without him.”

Sam looked over your pretty face in despair. “Very well. I’ll do my best to keep you safe,” The boy promised, wrapping his furs tighter around you. You looked at his kind expression, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a hug. For the first time in three entire weeks, you felt safe. Secure. Like you didn’t have to watch your back twenty-four seven because you finally had a friend on the Watch who knew your secret.

“Thank you, Sam. You’re a good man,”

“You’re a good man too,” The broad boy joked and the two of you laughed between one another, his enormous arms wrapping around your waist.

That is until you realised something was pressing in between the two of you that was clearly unintentional on the sweet boy’s part. You gasped and pulled back, and the movement seemed to knock sense into the Tarly boy.

“Sam!”

“I’m so sorry, I’ve never seen a woman bare before- I’ve very mixed feelings right now-”

—

For the first time in a month, you felt settled at the wall. You had gained little strength yet, but your fighting skill seemed to almost be improving. You still hated the cold with every ounce of your being, but at least you had a friend. Sweet Sam and his forever grumpy accomplice Jon.

Unlike Sam, Jon relished in the silence as you did, something you appreciated from time to time. Though it meant on nights like this, when Sam was not on night duty as you two were, there was a prolonged silence between the two of you that you neither liked nor hated. You could tell he scrambled for something to say to you, to be the one to be a friend when Sam was not there to do so, and you appreciated his efforts.

Finally, after an hour of watching into the inky black darkness over the edge of the wall for any movement, he opened his mouth to speak.

“You have a dainty life back home then?” Jon asked, making your head shoot up at the break in the silence. You must have seemed puzzled as he explained himself. “You don’t seem the heavy lifting type, is all,”

You nodded, noting his dark eyes and how they seemed to latch onto yours in interest, “Oh. No, I suppose not. My older brother did all the farm work since my father got sick,” You said, each breath misting in front of your very eyes in the freezing weather. Fearing it made you sound lazy as his head turned away in indifference, you continued, “I’m much better with a bow, truthfully. I’ve never had to wield a blade when catching rabbits and deers,”

Jon smirked, and you found yourself somewhat proud you had drawn that from him. He was a handsome man. So very handsome in a way that was obvious to a woman surrounded by men every single day. You hoped he did not have a woman at home, though you supposed they would never meet again, nor could you ever do anything about it seeing as it deemed you to behave like a man for the foreseeable future.

“No, I don’t suppose deers and rabbits would put up a good duel,” He replied, and the two of you fell back into silence. “I could teach you, if you’d like? I taught my younger brothers before I left,”

You looked at him in disarray. The men of the knights watch were not known for their kindness, more so their heathen behaviour and ferocity to the wildlings. Jon Snow was not like them, he was kind and understanding. He did not look at you with scorn at your difficulties. He was offering to help.

“You would?” Wide eyed, you asked. “You would help me?”

He nodded, shrugging and readying his blade, “I don’t see why not. Come on, arms up.”

And so for two hours Jon taught you. The dark-haired man held the blade as if it was part of his arm, as if he had known nothing but him and that sword, moved swift like the river that cut through your hometown. He was tough on you for your posture, exclaiming he had seen his septa with a stronger back than you to which you told him it was probably the silver spoon he had rammed up his arse that made him stand so stiffly. You had thought briefly you had gone too far when he straightened and gazed at you, before his face broke out into a laugh. Jon Snow had a wonderful smile, you realised.

You continued on for another hour, Jon showing you how your feeble nature could help you become nimble and fast. “As long as you make them bleed, it doesn’t matter where you hit them,” He said, using one of his huge, firm hands to adjust your stance and grip on your sword. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your heart race to smell the intoxicating scent of his sweat and old soap rolling off him into the cold air you inhaled. It was just because you had never been so close to a man, lest seen one so close in the past month with your efforts to stay hidden from view. Your heart felt like it was racing as you stepped away from the broad-shouldered man that encompassed your frame with his own, not watching where you were treading so long as it got you away from that terrible siren call of a scent he gave off.

“In no time at all you’ll be the best in the yard,” He teased, as you moved back even further. You noticed the patch of black ice too late however in your haste to ironically come to your senses. Your footing was swept from underneath you by the frozen cobble, and your body thrown backwards with the weight of your armour sent you tumbling over the edge of the wall’s crenel with a loud yelp, “Perhaps not as- JACK!”

Jon lunged his body forward, arms outstretched to grab your hands in his own. You felt your body slam into the side of the bricks, legs dangling precariously over the frosty edge and you swore everything seemed impossibly colder on this side of the wall. Your heart raced even more than when you had been near Jon, racing as if this was your last moment on earth which it very well could be. How you were not dead you will never know, but every single prayer you could ever say to the gods ran through your head as you breathed out finally.

“JON!” You yelled, gripping onto his large hands with a tightness you didn’t know you had. If he was to let go even the slightest amount, it would all be over.

“I’ve got you!” He called back, two hands grabbing your forearm securely. “I won’t drop you, but you need to pull yourself up,”

Your free hand grabbed onto an empty alcove in the wall’s brickwork, the ice nestling there biting into your fingertips as though it were a feral dog. You winced as you felt your skin stick to the ice instead of melt it, but you used the wall to kick yourself up further although your legs felt near numb with fear. “That’s it, now grab this part,” Jon encouraged, and you did so, moving to hold the top of the wall as a more secure plane.

One of Jon’s arms wrapped around your waist to give him a better grip of your slack body, and it took all his strength to hoist you, your sodden clothes and your armour back over the wall. The two of you stumbled back with a grunt of effort, and you think you finally exhaled for the first time in five minutes by the time he got you to the right side of the barrier, his arm still wrapped around you as yours never withdrew from grabbing onto his shoulders in terror.

The two of you stayed quiet for a moment, as if you didn’t quite believe what had just happened. “Are you alright?” Jon whispered, letting you go though you were still quite shaken up.

“I think so,” You reply, though neither of you miss the tremor in your tone, “Thankyou, Jon,”

“Always. We’re brothers now. Brother’s look after each other.” He replied, clapping you on your shoulder heartily, not missing the way you looked away from him when he named you his family, “Now come on. That’s enough excitement for one night.”

—

Everything came to a screaming halt not even a month later. You had grown in muscle, not nearly as much as a normal man, but your sparring had improved immensely and life was becoming less difficult as you acclimatised to the cold. Sam and Jon were good friends, particularly Sam who always watched your back to help you keep your secret safe from the outside world.

But you had shaken Jon. He had never felt this way about a man before, never seen a man with such beautiful eyes or such a softness in their gaze. Sam held a kindness to him but not in the same delicate manner you did. Save when you were sparring, something you had put every piece of yourself into since the night you nearly fell from the wall. The way you gazed at him as if he was the greatest warrior you had ever seen, though he doubted a farm boy would have ever seen the bloodshed of war.

He saw how the other men treated you. He and Sam tried to steer them clear of picking on you for your weaker frame, but on the days they couldn’t be with you they hoped you were tough. He knew you weren’t.

It was a night as such that they had both been stationed on watch duty where they found you. They had been relieved of duty not ten minutes earlier; the elevator creeping its way down to Castle Black at a frustratingly slow pace. All Jon wanted was his bed, as it seemed Sam did too from the way he ran a hand over his eyes as if the weight of the world held heavy on his shoulders.

“Is it just me or do the nights seem longer up here?” Sam asked, rubbing his hands together hoping to warm the poor digits up by even a few degrees. It was in vain though, even he knew that. There was no such thing as warmth this far north.

Jon opened his mouth to answer his good friend, but was interrupted by the sound of a high-pitched scream that was quickly cut off and some loud scuffling around the centre of the training yard.

The two men looked at one another as the elevator met the cold stone cobbles, somehow both of them having a good idea who was responsible for such a cry. Jon kicked the iron door open, the pair of them rushing out of the metal hold at a surprising pace for two men freezing their arses off. They were confronted with three of the taller men the night’s watch offered surrounding a figure on the floor, mouth and limbs bound with cloth.

“Get his clothes off boys. Let’s see if a night in the cold air will toughen him up. Commander says even the youngest boy brought here is more of a man than this runt.” The larger one, who Sam knew to be named Derick ordered, and his heart skipped when he saw who it was they had on the floor, squealing and writhing like a shot animal.

Of course, as they’d both suspected, it was you the pig bastards had dragged out of bed in the middle of the night for a practical joke. But he watched as they undid your top buttons and was thankful as Jon made it just in time to shove the man off you.

“That’s enough!” The Stark’s half son yelled, loud enough to wake the superiors of the watch so they could deal with the rats.��

The boys huffed, shuffling away from your limp body as Jon drew his sword and stared at them all coldly. “Snow bastard here to save the day, once again. Does your arse ever tire of you wearing it like a hat?” Derick snapped, eyeing Jon up wearily as if deliberating his chances against the man. But it seemed he didn’t fancy his luck, as he shouldn’t have, and stepped away from your bodyguards in annoyance.

“Just go back to bed and you’ll be lucky we don’t tell the commanders what you were going to do.” Jon murmured darkly, as Sam also reached for his weapon at his side if they wished for a fight. He knew Jon could take them all on his own but anything to steer them away from you.

The boys looked to one another in a sneer, before huffing and sauntering off back to the dormitory, muttering curses about the three of you. The moment they turned, Jon was at your side, ripping the gag away from your mouth so you could breathe. It wasn’t until then that he noticed you had been crying and his heart plummeted. You hiccuped as the cloth was removed from your face, Sam cutting free the binds on your ankles as Jon worked on your wrists.

It wasn’t for another minute that you had shaken yourself out of the fright the awful bastards had given you, and you actually thought to thank the two of them.

“Don’t mention it,” Jon said, pulling your wrists forward to free the knotted cloth there too. His large fingers brushed along your hands warmly, and you felt a shiver run down your spine at just how easily his body had adapted to the cold. Though you supposed it had always been like that being a boy of Winterfell.

You were still silent however, not knowing quite what to say as your hands fell free with his quick work and you lifted your arm up to rub away the dried tears in vain. The dark-haired man must have seen your crestfallen expression, and did what Jon did best to all the men he saw struggling. He comforted you.

“Hey, don’t let them get to you. You’re getting stronger by the day.” He murmured, pulling your arm away from your face to see your bottom lip still quivering in shame. “We made no warrior overnight. Do you think the Mountain woke up one day with the strength of a god?”

“I heard he split his mothers ribs in two the day he was born,” Sam chimed in, though he quickly regretted his chatty nature when the two of you looked at him, Jon with an exasperated glare and you with pure fright. He gathered his words the way Sam did best, and added; “Probably just an old wives’ tale though.”

Jon turned back to you, his eyes falling to where they had unbuttoned your shirt and leaned forward to help, “What I mean is there’s always going to be someone bigger than you. My father once told me how he beat the Sword of the Morning and even he-” Jon froze halfway through his sentence as his fingers brushed against your flesh under your shirt. Something was wrong. Something was different to his own body, to any man he had ever seen before. It wasn’t until you realised why he had gone quiet that you shoved his hands away, your soft feminine hands holding him off as if he’d burned you.

You had been so enraptured in his words, the comfort it brought you, you didn’t realise just how much of you he could feel until you followed his eyes to where he was staring at your chest wide eyed. His gaze flicked to your face and just like Sam, he took in your guilty eyes, your womanly features that he had always known were pretty. Though he’d always placed his thought as of jealous rather than of lust.

But his mind raced as if confirmed by feeling those mounds on your chest, reimagining your face in a whole new light.

Your eyes met, and the second they did, you knew he knew.

Jon stood up fast enough to give him head spin, or was that just the revelation that either you were indeed a man with a startlingly pretty face and tits to match or were you very much a woman?

“Jon!” You shimmied your legs out the rest of the rope that Sam had been struggling with, standing to meet his shocked expression, “Jon, wait,” You reached out for him, though he stepped away as if you were suddenly cursed.

“No- You can’t-” He breathed out, forcing himself to finish his sentence though the thought pained him, “You can’t be a woman. Do you have any idea how dangerous this place is for a woman?”

“Of course I do, Jon! I’ve feared for my life every day these past months, feared for my virtue. I don’t wish to be here, I have no choice,” You hissed back as Sam stood beside you, hilting his knife.

The lack of shock on the Tarly boy’s face clicked in Snow’s mind, “You knew about this?”

“I walked in on her in the shower unfortunately,” He replied, spinning to look at you with a red tinge to his cheeks, “Not that- I mean I didn’t want to invade your privacy- You have a lovely pair-”

“Sam,” You spat, nudging the boy to stop his mouth that would usually endear, as the two of you looked back at Jon’s aghast expression. Rushing forward to hold on to his arm, a tenderness you could express now, “Please don’t tell the Commanders. They’ll kill me if they know,” Jon’s dark eyes searched your face for any reason as to not take on this potentially fatal secret, but all he found was a scared woman begging for his help. All he found was the person he had been keeping his eye on for months since that first day you met. All he found was a friend.

“Alright,” Jon conceded, noticing now just how soft your hands were as they clung to his arm in need, “So what do they call you?”

“Actually, what do they call you?” Sam piped up, a puzzled look on his face as you spun to meet his eyes with a relaxed smile. “I’ve been calling you Jack for the past month and you’ve not once said anything.”

You chuckled and told them both your real name, your gaze meeting Jon’s once more as he stuck out his hand to shake, his eyes softening when he saw you looking up at him in hope.

“Welcome to the night’s watch, Y/N,”

#jon snow x reader #jon snow #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones fanfiction #job snow imagine #jon snow fanfiction #Samwell Tarly #samwell tarly x reader #fem!reader

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Historical AUs!

We have 26 incredible fics submitted to this list, stretching from the fifth century up to the 1990s. We have stories that fit into just over 2,000 words, and others that are more than 200,000! This list includes one LiLo fic, and we also have our first ever non-English rec, with a French language fic -- truly the language of love.

To all my fellow history lovers, it's time to go apeshit. Read, reblog, comment, kudos, bookmark, tell your friends, all that jazz -- your local fanfic writer appreciates it!

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Reccer says: It was so interesting to follow along with this and try to figure out why Louis was behaving this way. And then later see them fall in love. Really liked it and can't recommend it enough.

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Reccer says: It's one of those fics that I'd describe as monumental, masterful, epic. In my opinion, it should be made into a film, and brought to everyone's attention. The script is brilliant and relentless. The characters are subtle and nuanced. The writing is exemplary. A masterpiece.

Secrets in Winter by softfonds (82582, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

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Reccer says: I loved the plot and the character development of the main pairing.

A cycle of recycled revenge by Brokenbeaks (103302, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

Foxburgh, England, 1983. In the heat of summer, wreathed by pastures, rolling knolls, and thatched-roof cottages, Louis takes on a new job: caretaking for a recently blinded man named Harry. As it begins, what seems like a simple task turns into a quest that costs him every last bit of his pride and tolerance. Harry is, in practice, a two-legged curse. And Louis is just gonna have to put up with it. Or: The one where Harry likes to infuriate Louis almost as much as he enjoys straddling his lap.

Reccer says: Absolutely excellent. I was a bit worried about how Harry's blindness would be handled, but it was done wonderfully. Perfect fic. Perfect writing. Perfect plot.

Through Lonely Streets and Neon Lights by Sweetly_disposed (25107, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

1920's era, Great Gatsby inspired. Harry is a poor boy living in the South Village. Every night he watches the North City come alive and longs of crossing the river to be a part of it and escape his dreary life. The infamous Mr Tomlinson lives across the river from Harry. His parties are the stuff of legend; people on both sides know about them, and all Harry wants is a chance to go to one. When fate swings his way and he finds himself in Mr Tomlinson's house, he gets much more than he could ever have bargained for.

Reccer says:

Chasing empty spaces by Lis (Domesticharry) (79028, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

The year is 1934 and Harry Styles was to inherent the largest tobacco firm in the south. His parents have picked out the “perfect” girl for him to marry and he has the privilege of receiving the highest education possible. The problem was, Harry hadn’t realized he didn’t actually want any part of that future until he met a mechanic named, Louis Tomlinson.

Reccer says: This fic is simply magnificent. A must read

An invincible Summer by Brooklyn_Babylon (44627, Explicit, Harry Styles Louis Tomlinson)

Never content to stay in one place for long, a few months down south researching for his novel seemed like an idyllic, slow-paced summer to Louis. He wasn't ready for the blistering heat, the backbreaking work of watermelon picking, or how stifling the attitudes in rural Georgia would feel. And he definitely hadn’t anticipated falling in love with the farmer’s son. The summer of 1946 would turn out to be everything worth writing about.

Reccer says:

Box of Rain by Indierection (amandamoraisa) (26631, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

1970 AU, Louis is a boxer and Harry a ring boy

Reccer says: The era is well transcribed (the way of life, the music), and the story is very charming.

Cela aussi passera (French-language fic) by Hazzunah (110721, Not Rated, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

1993: Louis is 16. It's summertime, by a lake in France. He meets Harry. 1999: Louis is in Japan; he hasn't seen Harry for 6 years, since that fateful summer. He thought he'd lost him forever.

Reccer says: For years, I've been reading only in English, but there's still the odd French fic that I come across that's really good. "This too shall pass" is one of them. It's set in the 90s, it's beautifully written, it's moving, and the characters are well characterized. For me, it's a gem. So I recommend it. For anyone who can read in French.

You Make The World Taste Better by LiveLaughLoveLarry/loveislarryislove (10000, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post Warnings: Harassment and threats from the rival baker, culminating in physical violence and a grisly end in keeping with the fairy tale

A twist on Hansel and Gretel as a rivalry between bakers, based on Hans Traxler’s fictional non-fictional text "The Truth About Hansel and Gretel"

Reccer says: This fic is such a wild adaptation of a story almost everyone knows, capturing both the sweet (literally, since Harry is a baker haha) elements and also the darkness of the tale.

No One Like You by myownspark (20000, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles were noted painters in the 19th century. Louis was a Neoclassicist, Harry a Romantic -- totally different, nothing in common, no connection. But centuries later, art historians Niall and Liam find something that suggests perhaps the two were more intertwined than people think.

Reccer says: I love the parallel timelines, watching Louis and Harry's relationship develop and fracture and heal at the same time as watching Niall and Liam discover things. We see pieces of history they're trying to puzzle together, and then we see the history as it happened, what it really was and what it meant to them.

Bloom by LadyAJ_13 (28909, Teen, Liam Payne/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post Warnings: Non-graphic violence, period-typical attitudes

In early 1970s Oxford, Detective Sergeant Louis Tomlinson has to deal with the dual pressures of a case that hits too close to home, and the arrival of new colleague Liam Payne.

Reccer says: This was an incredible, atmospheric, moody historical mystery fic. Topped off with a lovely, happy ending that had me tearing up.

Under Electric Candlelight by littleroverlouis (5051, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

In the 1970s, small town veterinarian Louis moves to NYC and meets a beauty at the bar named H who sometimes goes by Lola.

Reccer says: So immersive you feel like you're in 1970s Manhattan. The characters are truly electric and lovely.

this is my jam by disgruntledkittenface (4513, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

Harry goes to a gay bathhouse for the first time. 90s AU.

Reccer says: This story is so much more than it first appears. I could feel the atmosphere and the emotion of the moment of the characters finding a freedom that didn't exist for them outside of the bathhouse's walls. It's an absolutely beautiful (and hot) exploration of such a specific time and place. So layered and thoughtful and hopeful and real.

After Dark, After Light by QuickedWeen (71440, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post Warnings: Kidnapping, battlefield

Louis Tomlinson is the mysterious commander of the Sutherland army sent back with Harry on orders from his laird to help shore up Clan Edwards' defenses. As the winter draws nearer by the day, the two are thrown together to prepare for the invasion that they expect as soon as the ground thaws.

Reccer says: This fic just sweeps you away to the Scottish Highlands! Such a fun historical romance!

the sanctity of patience by scrunchyharry (22521, Teen, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

When young Lord Harry was chosen by King Louis of Bavaria to become his husband and prince consort, Harry thought all of his dreams had come through. His illusions came crashing down when he understood it meant living in isolation in the alpine castle of Neuschwanstein with a husband who turned out to be far from what he had hoped for.

Reccer says: The writing is gorgeous and immersive. The characters are so vivid and I loved the way their journey to love played out.

Ace of Spades by allwaswell16 (78000, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post Warnings: depictions of violence, drug use

Louis is a pirate, Harry is his captive, and no one is who they say they are.

Reccer says: Once I started reading, I couldn't put it down. The plot twists! The suspense! The intrigue!

Adore You by Isthatyoularry (66979, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

Arrange marriage AU, Harry initially hates Louis and their arrangement but goes along with it for the summer. Louis is perfect for him tho, as much as harry hates to admit it. They last.

Reccer says: The word building. Stubborn harry. Pining louis. Catching feelings. Hate to love.

We Can Find a Place to Feel Good by yeah_alright/uhoh-but-yeah-alright (8000, Teen, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

1960s AU inspired by Treat People With Kindness. Harry attends school dances over the years, meeting Louis and learning more about himself and what he loves.

Reccer says: Just so completely sweet and hopeful! Captures the vibe of the song so well!

The Garden Part 1 by Throwthemflowers/hazzabeeforlou (13000, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post Warnings: Major character death, war

Biblical AU - 5th Century. A prince (Louis) falls in love with his father’s musician (Harry) in the midst of war.

Reccer says: This story is so hard to describe (it's Part 1 of a truly incredible 3-part series) but it's intense and brilliant and epic. The love here is all consuming and it comes through in the writing. Completely unique.

Ever Since I Tried Your Way by fairytalefemme (25896, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) Warnings: internalized homophobia

40s/50s AU. Harry leaves his bride-to-be at the altar, runs away from his life, and finds a kind farmer who lets him stay.

Reccer says: Such a sweet, tender exploration of love and self.

With Words Unspoken by jacaranda_bloom (18000, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

Older Louis and Harry. 50ish Louis returns to a cabin he'd visited many years before and it's a hippie commune type place where he finds Harry.

Reccer says: It just made me SO HAPPY. Peaceful and lovely.

1957: here to take my medicine by zita17/louisandtheaquarian (2652, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

Beat poets Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles blow off some steam before a reading.

Reccer says: Literally transports you to this particular time and place. And so so hot.

The murmur of yearning by Mediawhore (93300, Mature, Harry Styles/ Louis Tomlinson) Warnings: Rape/non-con attempts, death of character, slurs etc

Harry upon the death of his husband he was forced to marry find companionship and support in the arms of Land steward mr. tomlinson. Together they try to prove harry didnt murder his husband.

Reccer says: Regency era. Dark academia. Mystery and suspense. Forbidden love trope. The angst and mutual pining. Harry in corsets!

Love you in the dark by Perzikze (9225, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) Warnings: Dubious consent i think, loss of virginity

Story of a historical wedding night. Innocent Harry has no idea what goes down during the wedding night; Louis eases him through it.

Reccer says: Innocent harry. Supportive Louis. It's adorable and sexy at once!

Stay tuned for the next list theme! It's similar... but different... ;)

#rec list #category 5 #historical au #one direction #louis tomlinson #harry styles #liam payne #niall horan #zayn malik #1dsource #1dficvillage #ficsfor4am #tracksintheam #trackinghome #allwaswell16 #alwaysxlarrie #1d rare pairs #hlcreators #girl direction source

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yasmimkilleruwu · 24 days

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Some things I wrote about Eyeless Jack and Toby a while ago :P

Ticci Toby

Toby likes strange things and people, he likes animals especially raccoons, Toby likes summer and autumn, he likes rock and other musical genres, he wears normal clothes but sometimes wears extravagant clothes, he likes to eat pizza and other nonsense but he eats healthy food most of the time, he loves coffee, he secretly drinks coffee because Masky and Hoodie don't let him drink it.

Toby hates people touching him, Toby doesn't like combing his hair but he always washes it but he doesn't comb it, he doesn't like people shouting at him, he doesn't like people taking his things or coming into his room, he hates vegetables, he doesn't like using firearms, he doesn't like being cold, and he also doesn't like being alone when it's cold, but he likes to see the rain and snow falling, he thinks it's beautiful.

In the South forest it's a bit cold, but the North Forest is warm, so Toby likes to stay mainly there, he only goes to the South forest to see Jack, Toby doesn't like to be cold because it reminds him of bad times of his life and reminds him of what it was like to be all alone.

Toby loves spending time at Eyeless Jack's cabin, not only because he will be away from all the noise of the mansion, but also because he loves being close to Eyeless Jack especially when it's cold, as Jack is warm and helps keep Toby warm, and Jack is really affectionate with Toby and Toby doesn't admit it but he likes it, Toby also likes to sleep cuddling with Eyeless Jack, he also likes it when he listens to music with Eyeless Jack, when they go out on dates and when Eyeless Jack leaves the Toby touch him.

Eyeless Jack

Jack liked to read books, take photos and play some musical instruments, but as he no longer has eyes and now has sharp claws he can no longer do these activities. He likes playing with animals, listening to calm music since his hearing has become a little sensitive because of the ritual, but he mainly likes Jazz, he likes walking through the forest, he likes warm clothes with a soft cloth, he really likes physical contact, likes to touch and be touched by Toby, likes to spend time with Toby and listen to him talk and complain.

Jack likes winter and autumn, he doesn't really like hot places, he ends up remembering the ritual, he likes to only go out at night because it's more relaxing for him, he only goes out during the day when Toby makes him go, loves to sleep.

Jack likes it when Toby spends a lot of time with him, Toby usually combs Jack's hair and styles it, sometimes the two take a shower together and Toby washes Jack's hair, this makes Jack very relaxed, so much so that he usually sleeps or becomes drowsy while bathing, Toby also often cuts Jack's hair when Jack is bothered by the length of his hair, and also shaves Jack.

He hates his own face, he always wears the mask even though he always remembers the people who sacrificed him, he prefers to remember them than see his own face, Toby is constantly asking Eyeless Jack to take off his mask and when Eyeless Jack takes it off, Toby is watching and praising Jack's face, Eyeless Jack only takes off his mask when he is close to Toby and the Seed Eater.

{He also takes off his mask sometimes when he's around Kate too, because she already saw his face when she almost killed him, he entered the northern forest without permission and she was sent by Slenderman to kill him, but Toby managed to stop her.}

#ticci toby #eyeless jack #ticcijack #creepypasta

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muffinlance · 1 year

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Hello Dragons Here: Gaang Meeting Outtakes

Alternates to part four. Or read part one here.

Take 2: Hallway Meet & Greet

So they tried his office, but that was empty too, and there was only so long they could wander the palace before they were caught.

“I think it’s tactical retreat time,” Sokka whispered, as they huddled in an empty corner of the halls. “As long as they don’t know we were here, we can try again another night. We’ll just park Appa up in the mountains and… dragon?”

“What?” asked Katara.

“Baby dragon,” Sokka said, pointing down. The ferret-cat sized dragon blinked up at him, its snakey tongue flickering from its mouth. Aang resisted the urge to squeal.

“Please come back,” came a very tired voice, right before a teenager who walked really quietly rounded the corner and straight into them. Kind of literally. Sokka reached out to steady him, as he wobbled post-impact. And then they had a Fire Nation servant that they really couldn’t let leave blinking at them.

“...You’re very short assassins,” said the teenager. Whose long hair was partially tied up in a frazzled bun, but mostly down his back. And whose sleep robe was really rumpled. And who was blinking at them through a pair of glasses that were almost an exact match for the ones in fashion at King Kuei’s court, like he’d gotten them from the same artisan. And also there were some ink stains on his face, like maybe he’d fallen asleep on some still-drying documents. So… maybe a scribe? The stains were on the scared side of his face, which was where the Fire Lord was supposed to have one, but his was smaller on his face than the portraits Ozai had commissioned, especially with the way the hair fell over it. And Aang also knew from Ozai how much the Fire Lord liked sharing his facial scars with the people around him.

“We’re, ah. New hires?” Sokka said.

“I,” the teenager said, “am not dealing with this. I am taking Druk back to the hatchery, and then I’m finishing my work, and then I’m going to bed. If you’re assassins, make an appointment.”

“Is that… something assassins usually do?” Aang asked.

“They should,” the teenager said.

Take 1: In a Happier World

Did I write an entire prompt reply only to scrap it and replace it with Sifu Ozai? Yes. Yes I did. The original:

Aang is escorted between bending teachers, kept away from exploring. Kept away from the Fire Nation, and most of the coastlines of the Earth Kingdom, which are called the colonies now.

The first thing he was told, when he woke up, was There was a war. It lasted for ninety-eight years.

The second thing was, It’s over now.

No one tells him, but by the time he’s studying earthbending, he knows the third: It’s over because the Fire Lord said so.

“But… it’s good he ended it, right?” Aang asks that night, in the safety of his room with Sokka and Katara, who started as his escorts from the Southern Tribe but ended up as friends. He thinks they’re friends.

“It’s good he’s not marching new armies into places,” Sokka says, staring up at the ceiling. “Less good, that he hasn’t marched the old armies back out.”

“If he’d ended it a year earlier, our mother would be alive,” says Katara, her face to the wall.

Fire Lord Zuko celebrated his sixteenth birthday just before the winter solstice, when Aang was still in the south pole. The Avatar was sent a formal invitation to attend. But Aang had… he’d been awake for only a few weeks. All he’d wanted to do was go home. He’d tried, and—

And going into the Avatar state had apparently alerted sages the world over to his existence. So. That was great. The Fire Lord’s hawk carried another message, as unsaid as so many other things: I know exactly where you are, Avatar.

Chief Hakoda politely declined on his behalf.

He trained under the same master as Katara; one of the women who’d come south, when the blockades between the poles had been lifted. He wasn’t a natural healer like the Chief’s daughter, but it… it was good, healing. Healing was what he needed. Waterbending had a fighting branch, too, and he could go to the north pole if he wanted to learn it, but they’d already turned Katara away and. And he didn’t see what learning how to drown someone, or cut them with ice, would help. They sent an offer, to send one of their best masters south.

Gran-Gran declined on his behalf. He didn’t read what she’d written, so he could pretend it was polite.

The Earth Kingdom was… it was fracturing. Ba Sing Se had been the cultural and political center in Aang’s time, and it was still supposed to be a great city, but it was great because it had expanded its walls to ring in enough farmland for itself and then… sort of ignored what was going on outside them, for the next few decades. The generals living there still plotted tactics, still lead the armies, but the nobility lived like there wasn’t even a war. And then the news came out that the Earth King really hadn’t known about the war, and.

Aang was in Gaoling when the news hit. The Beifong family had invited him to stay during his travels, and Sokka had a firm always-accept-free-stuff-from-rich-people policy, so. So he got to look out over their estate walls as people rioted. When he finally made it to Omashu, Bumi took one look at the girl who’d kidnapped herself into his saddle and snorkel-snorted. And then they’d had an arm-wrestling contest over who got to teach him. Toph cheated, but so did Bumi, so it was fair?

“Two cheats make a right,” Sifu Toph told him.

“No they don’t,” said Katara.

Toph declared him a passable earthbender. Within the week, another hawk from the Fire Lord arrived: an invitation to be tutored by Crown Princess Azula herself.

I know exactly how much you’ve learned, the letter didn’t say. It didn’t have to.

“So,” said Toph, “we’re coming with to see how creepy this guy is in person, right?”

Aang was so, so glad for his friends.

And now they were in a suite of rooms in the palace, graciously being allowed the night to recover from their travels, before their meeting with the Fire Lord and his heir in the morning.

“On the bright side,” said Sokka, which was never a phrase that ended well from him, “if he wanted to assassinate you, he’s known where you are for months.”

“Thanks, Sokka,” Aang said. And went for a walk, in the palace halls, because… Because.

Because he was the Avatar. And no one was saying it outright, but every time they said The war is over what they meant was Because the Fire Lord forced the terms. Because he offered to stop killing our people if we signed. Because he has dragons, dragons big enough to scorch armies to ashes without ever getting in range of benders or archers, and no one can fight against that.

No one but the Avatar. Master of all four elements, if he did what every nation in the world had done, and accepted the Fire Lord’s generous offer.

“He’s not even offering to teach you himself,” Sokka had snorted, when he’d first read the letter. “What, is he too busy counting his war spoils?”

The halls were quiet. Aang was looking for one of those courtyard gardens they’d seen from the air, but what he found instead was—

“No, come back, why can’t you stay in the hatchery—”

A very frazzled young man, and a very noodly baby dragon, who both slid around a corner with the same scrabbling-over-polished-floors grace and crashed right into him.

“Umm,” said Aang. “Oww?”

“Catch him,” ordered the young man, as the dragon wormed its way between them and bolted again.

And then Aang was on a baby dragon chase which was... probably exactly what he needed. At least, he was out of breath and laughing by the end of it, and his new friend was grumpily down an outer robe, which had been sacrificed to the cause of bundling the baby into a sort of squirmy burrito-pretzel. Also it kept trying to light the robe on fire with its dragonbreath, and the teenager kept blowing his own sparks which somehow swirled with the fire and put it out, and Aang absolutely had to know—

“Can you teach me to do that?”

“Uh,” said the teenager, leaning back from Aang’s face, which was maybe a little closer to his own than most people found comfortable. But they were dragon buddies, like he and Kuzon had been, so it was totally justified. “I’m, uh. Not really that good? I barely have any time to practice real forms, the dragons just have me play games and creatively roast their meat—”

“But you’re breathing rainbows.”

“...Please don’t say it like that in front of my sister.”

“I won’t,” Aang said, smile broadening, “if you teach me. And come meet my friends!”

The teenager didn’t say no, and Aang recognized this hallway, so he hooked their arms together and dragged him off.

“Guys!” Aang said, sliding open their door. “I met the palace dragonsitter!”

“...Please don’t say that in front of my sister, either,” the teenager sighed.

“That’s nice, Aang,” said Sokka. “Hello, dragonsitter. How does it feel, to be kidnapped?”

“Familiar,” said the teenager, in a kind of worrying deadpan. “I really need to get Druk back to the hatchery. I’ll… see you tomorrow?”

“Nuh-uh,” said Toph. “This is my first team kidnapping. No leaving until we get a ransom.”

“...I can order snacks?” offered the teen.

“We’re keeping you,” Toph said. “Now get us more of those fire flakes. Snozzles keeps trying not to cry while eating them, it’s hilarious.”

“It is not my fault they are both delicious and trying to kill me,” Sokka said.

“...I’ll send tea, too,” the teenager said. “But, uh. I really should… not be here?”

“Relax,” Sokka said, slinging an arm over his shoulders. “It’s not like we’re going to snitch on you to the Fire Lord.”

The dragonsitter mumbled something Aang couldn’t quite catch, but it sounded a lot like I can see the family resemblance. But he got a passing servant to send for their snacks, and he let the little dragon down for some supervised exploration that ended in all of Sokka’s emergency seal jerky being gulped down its throat as it ran circles around the room, and the teenager finally sat down and leaned back and laughed, which Aang wasn’t sure was a thing he did a lot of.

And then he met them the next morning, in formal robes, on his throne.

“...Hello, Sifu Rainbows!” Aang said, and the girl next to His Majesty cackled.

#Azula: This is the best casual roasting

#since you came back home to father

#Zuko: can you please not use that comparison every time

#Azula: absolutely not <3

#All Adults: terrified of the Fire Lord

#Team Avatar: terrorizing the Fire Lord

#and then they broke it to him that people had signed his peace treaties under pain of dragon eating

#Zuko: THEY DON’T EVEN EAT PEOPLE

#Sokka: thank you for that information Fire Lord Dragonsitter

(Read more prompts || Longer ATLA fics || Original works)

#Hello Dragons Here #Avatar The Last Airbender #atla #Zuko #Sokka #Katara #Aang #Ran and Shaw #outtakes #ficlet

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madameaug · 6 months

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I really love your stories sm idk if you take requests or not but if you are could I request where Jungkook won’t stop smacking and grabbing his girlfriends butt (we all know he’s an ass man i can 100% confirm that ☝🏽🤓)

Agreed, agreed. Jungkook may not be touchy in public, but in private. Heh well that's a different story.

Pairing: Jennette x Jungkook

*this is just the outfit Jennette is in*

"I hate the cold so much," Jennette muttered to herself. She had gotten up twice in the past two minutes to grab a thicker blanket. The thermostat read 67 degrees, but it felt like the Arctic. Winters in Korea were no joke. She yearned for nothing else than for the Georgia heat. After taking the next big step in their relationship. Jennette made the big move across two large oceans to Busan. Her adjustment period was much quicker than that of other Americans moving to a homogenous country. She had her boyfriend Jungkook, his friends, and her co-workers. Who knew South Korea was in desperate need of social workers. Jennette worked for a private multi-million fertility adoption clinic. Ensuring that children who were in foster care went to good homes. She loved her job, the people she worked with, and the couple extra hundred dollars in her biweekly paycheck.

After another week of going to the office, Jennette and Jungkook decided to host a game night. It was a tradition that started six months ago that the two couples and Yoongi would hang out with each other at least once a month.

She had Twister, Cards Against Humanity, Game of Life, and Uno across the glass table in her living room. Earlier in the week she deep cleaned the carpet. So she could just relax and wait for her guest and Jungkook to arrive. With perfect timing, Jungkook's key chains rocked against the door, announcing his return.

"I got the pasta, baby." Jennette had been talking about her favorite cheesy pasta dish at the local Italian mom-and-pop shop. It was loaded with four different types of cheeses. The pasta was made in-house and beautifully cut into an angel hair shape she loved, along with the prestigious garlic bread with just enough crunch.

"Thank you so much, bug." Handing her the bag, Jennette took a moment to allow the thin paper bag to sit on her lap. Enjoying the transfer of heat from the food onto her thighs. She relaxed into the couch, slowly transcending into heaven.

"The girls texted me not long ago. They are crossing the bridge, so they should be here soon."

"Okay."

Coming back from the kitchen, Jungkook admired Jennette's form. She is beyond a blanket burrito status. All you could see was the round puff of her cheeks and her purple glasses. Two thick comforters wrapped around her head from head to toe.

"Baby, are you that cold?"

She couldn't even respond to the simple question due to her uncontrollable teeth chattering. Motioning her to come to him. Like a cricket, Jennette was rubbing her feet together. Attempting anything to get some warmth.

"Its to- too cold."

"Lemme warm you up." He leaned over and flipped the switch, igniting the fireplace in the living room. The fire put on a warm glow on Jungkook's olive skin.

"You have two minutes." It took Jennette a couple of seconds to untangle herself from the wrap of blankets. Shuddering over to Jungkook, she hugged him. Her hands slipped past his denim jacket and touched his warm, bare skin. Jungkook had to control himself from jumping at the cold touch. He placed his head horizontally over hers. Jungkook rarely had an issue with skinship. He was going to take any chance he had to be in Jennette's personal space. If he could shrink himself to fit in her skin, best believe he would.

Jennette sunk her head so that her face was in front of his abdomen. Her lower back was now low enough for Jungkook to get the perfect view of her butt crack.

Jungkook took it upon himself to rub her butt is a soothing manner. Jennette was too busy soaking in the warmth to nag him about his frisky hands. Jungkook used the palm of his hands to rub her behind in a circular pattern. This would have put her to sleep if they weren't expecting their friends to arrive in a few minutes. The couple stood in a comfortable silence, slightly rocking. Jennette couldn't lie and say that Jungkook was an efficient heater. She squeezed him tighter.

"I don't know how you can remain so warm. YOO! WHAT THE FUCK!" Jennette screamed, holding onto her pants. Jungkook, slightly embarrassed, hid the smile growing on his lips.

"Sorry baby I got carried away."

In one swift motion, Jungkook's big hands took an oversized grip on her ass. He lifted Jennette off the ground with all his strength, effectively startling her. Calming down, she swatted his chest.

"I gotta keep my eye on you." Jennette laughed off the manner, not knowing what more the night and Jungkook would have to offer.

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3

The six adults were in an intense round of Twister. Jungkook and Nala were already out for not keeping their hands on the designated color. Now, it was just Yoongi, Hoseok, and Jennette. Hoseok looked like a cool cucumber. Twister was simply a flexibility test to him. A piece of cake. He was glad he was pretty limber, or this bridge position would have been challenging to hold. He now had to move his left foot to a yellow dot just an inch away from where it originally was.

"Ha! Easy."

Now it was Jennette's turn. Out of the three of them, she was in the most accessible position. She was a simple upright position with her legs slightly spread. Yoongi was hunched over with one hand touching the mat. The spinner was behind her, so she asked Jungkook to flick the spinner for her.

"Ooo, left hand on blue." Nala cheesed.

Jennette gulped, assuming a downward dog position. She could only maintain this position for a few seconds until her right hand could be another circle. Preferably another blue circle. Trying to keep her balance, her hips swayed in the hair. Catching the lingering eyes of Jungkook. From this angle, nothing was stopping Jungkook from staring. Sipping on his beer, he found himself in deep thought.

Did Jennette's butt get bigger?

Jungkook looked like that meme of the woman with math equations floating across her face. The further he lingered on his girlfriend's curves, the more complicated it would be for him to pretend to be expected in front of his friends. But genuinely, he was confused. The loungeset was naturally baggy. Even her pants pooled at her ankles. Yet it appeared to become body-contouring at certain parts. Her thighs and butt to be particular. There was no panty line shown in her pants. Just the upper fatty portion of her behind. It was a sunrise over flat land. All you can see is how big and wide the sun truly is. There are no trees or buildings to shrink the overgrown star.

Her butt must have really gotten bigger.

Letting his impulses get the best of him, Jungkook popped Jennette's behind. The force was enough to get Jennette to break formation, eliminating her from the game.

"Jungkook!"

"One down, one more to go."

"That's not fair!"

"Don't be a sore loser, babe. Come join us at the loser couch."

Hoseok was okay with the obvious Jungkook interference. He was too competitive to care about 'fairness'. Out was out, and he now stood a more substantial chance at winning. In his eyes, Jungkook just helped his case by eliminating Jennette.

" You're the worst." She folded her arms now watching the battle between Yoongi and Hoseok.

<3 <3 <3 <3

"Alright, what is up with you?" Jennette pulled Jungkook into the kitchen away from their friends' sitting, watching a cheesy Hallmark Thanksgiving film.

"What do you mean? I'm not doing anything."

"Your hand was literally down my pants." He wasn't being completely inappropriate. He was tired of massaging the fabric of her lounge pants. He wanted to touch the real thing. He had to ensure that his eyes weren't playing tricks about the actual size of Jennette's ass. So he slid his hand down her pants, rubbing her bare behind.

Jennette stuck her head out, ensuring her friends were still watching the movie. She could see that they were dozing off. Yoongi's eyes were closed, and his baseball cap covered his eyes.

"You don't want me to touch you? That's all you had to say."

"No, it's not that. It's just- well. You are typically more reserved with your touches, especially in front of others."

"You're beauty had just been hitting different baby. I don't want to take it for granted."

"I literally look the same Jungkook."

"Your pants say otherwise. You've been filling out your pants, baby."

"Nig- boy shut up. Stop playing."

"I'm serious. You getting thick on me." Jungkook new what words to blow up Jennette's head with. For all of her adult life, she was on the slimmer side. A 'skinny fat'. The weight that she did gain went to her thighs, skipping her ass entirely. Now hearing from Jungkook that her butt was getting bigger, she was feeling herself.

"Are you sure." She spun around to examine her own butt.

While standing in the kitchen, she fixed herself another scoop of the cheesy pasta that she had yet to finish earlier.

"Before, I only needed one hand, but now I need two. Almost a third hand."

Jennette busted out laughing. Jungkook tapped Jennette's butt rhythmically. Playing with her ass like there were literal bongos (no Cardi or Meg)

Taking her spoon, she gathered a generous amount. She held the spoon ready to feed Jungkook. He opened his mouth and accepted. Moaning at the four different cheeses.

"See? It's so good." She alternated feeding him and herself. Yet again Jungkook's hands found themselves on her butt. Grabbing handfuls of her butt, with not a care in the world.

XOXO

(now cleaned up)

#black writers #bts #jungkook x oc #jungkook x black oc #jungkook x jennette #jungkook imagines #madameaug #black fem reader

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deadpanwalking · 10 months

Note

So I have a question that I only trust you to answer: I aspire to be a guy who's read Ulysses but google searches are giving me conflicting information on which edition is best. Gabler? Bodley Head? Random House? Which would you recommend?

I unequivocally recommend the Gabler edition for two reasons:

It's been the gold standard in Joyce studies for over three decades, which makes a lot of the scholarship more accessible to people outside of academia who are curious about critical perspectives on the text.

The line numbers and pagination are synced with Gifford's annotations, which are an invaluable resource for both first time readers and seasoned Joyceans, as they provide explanations and context for the references Joyce makes in the text. I think a lot of people (and ogres) are so intimidated by how dense Ulysses can get that it impacts their ability to become properly engrossed in the actual book, and the joy of discovery turns into another bowl of Kellogg's Cornflakes to resentfully shovel down in a bid for self-improvement.

That being said, the 1922 and 1961 editions both have their proponents—here is an article about how heated the discussion got at a James Joyce conference ("Miami J'yce") that took place about five years after the Gabler edition was released.

#ironically one of the most important messages in the book is that cleverness will not serve us as it served odysseus—it can't bring us home #ulysses #anonymous #assbox #i read much of the night and go south in the winter #james joyce

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aziraphales-library · 9 months

Note

Hello lovely mods! Thank you so much for all the work you put into this library - it's really helped me get into reading fan fiction (especially since I'm rather late to the game)! I've been having a wonderful time going through your cottage and fluffy tags! Do you all happen to have any more recommendations for fics where Aziraphale and Crowley move into a cottage together after the apocolypse? All ratings are lovely, although if you could throw in one asexual fic it would mean the world to me! Thank you all so much again :)

Hello my dear! Have you seen our south downs cottage tag?

Here are some I have enjoyed.

a paradox of love and faith (or the winter of our grace) by Nimravidae for weatheredlaw [rated E, 16k words]

To love is to heal -- that is to say it is messy and inconsistent. Crowley struggles to find closure for past wounds, to yield to the idea that he could be loved as he has loved.

It all comes to a head between relentless nightmares about God and an apple tree that won't grow apples.

Luckily, Aziraphale is there to catch him should he Fall once more.

Causalities include: A greenhouse, an indeterminate amount of plants, and a sense of self and place.

A Better Place For Us To Be by Mackem for dairyme [rated T, 14k words]

A smile spreads across Aziraphale’s face. “You’re not speaking hypothetically, are you?” he asks softly, because he needs to be sure. Because they spent millennia not saying how they felt, and he would prefer never to face that uncertainty again. “Do you really mean it, Crowley? You’d like to move somewhere else? Together?”

“Of course together. There’s no me without you,” Crowley says immediately, his voice low and tender. Aziraphale reaches out to him instinctively with a soft noise, and Crowley lets himself be reeled closer when Aziraphale fastens a hand around his wrist. He chuckles affectionately when Aziraphale nuzzles briefly into his lean stomach, overcome for just a moment by the warmth in Crowley’s voice.

Sometimes he wonders how on Earth he managed to persuade himself that Crowley had ever felt anything other than love for him, when the sheer force of it is like a tidal wave crashing over him, washing away millennia of doubt.

equinox by leaveanote [rated E, 9k words]

Here in the South Downs cottage, Crowley has more than he ever thought he would: the two of them, safe, and he gets to live alongside Aziraphale every day. He still can't bring himself to say it, though, still finds himself wanting, doesn't want to drag the angel down with the mess of his love, doesn't want to ruin what they have.

Aziraphale, however, is getting tired of Crowley staring longingly off into the night sky, and confronts him.

There is more of a balance here than Crowley thought.

***

The angel smiles. That crinkling kindness, that laugh in the corner of him, bright and deathless and pure, and Crowley’s resolve is melting. Aziraphale does remove his glasses now, fingers brushing his temples, folds them into his own pocket, pocketing Crowley’s last defense. Neither of them looks away. The night sounds clutter around them, the sway of elderly oak branches, the gentle scuttle of a village turning itself into bed, reinventing for the next day, the caw and croon of things with feathers, searching for love. A knowing hum in an ancient throat, leaning in.

Something We Were Withholding Made Us Weak by triedunture for subiteveneinorem [rated M, 17k words]

"Yes, exactly. Retire." Aziraphale reaches for the last remaining tartlet brimming with summer berries. "Somewhere along the south coast, perhaps."

Or: Crowley and Aziraphale learn to move in tandem.

An Evening On A Porch by DandelionDrabbles (AnonymousDandelion) [rated G, 500 words]

“Hello, Crowley,” said Aziraphale, eyes popping open. “Where are you going?”

“Oops.” Crowley offered a slightly apologetic smile. “Didn’t mean to bother you.”

“Never a bother,” Aziraphale countered, smiling back at him.

“Mm.” Crowley raised an eyebrow. Aziraphale still looked just as relaxed as before, thankfully, so that gave Crowley free reign to be a pest. “Is that,” he asked, “a challenge?”

~ ~ ~

OR: Aziraphale and Crowley share a soft slice of quiet time and snuggles on a swing.

On the Act of Hair Washing: A Treatise on Love by cheerios_and_wine [rated G, 867 words]

"Thought I'd start by washing your hair." Crowley's voice was almost shy, like he thought it was too much. Like it was exposing part of him to admit it was something he wanted to do.

It was all so new still. This cottage they had bought together. The romantic atmosphere. The freedom to touch. The love openly displayed.

It took reminding sometimes, that this was allowed. That they could give themselves to each other like this.

Crowley washes Aziraphale's hair. After 6000 years of repression, of Heaven's cold barrenness and Hell's crowded filth, simple loving touch feels overwhelming. Some tears are had.

-Mod AB

#good omens #ineffable husbands #good omens fic recs #good omens fan fic #south downs cottage #good omens fanfiction #mod ab

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areyougonnabe · 8 months

Note

I know nothing about polar exploration! Or Shackleton! But you seem excited about it!

Have a favourite fact you'd like to share?!?

well my two favorite facts have already been shared which are the cautionary tale of the toxic polar polycule and the story of the antarctic lovebirds !!!

but here is a contender for #3... the tale of jessamine.

let's start with our homies Deb (left) and Griff (right), aka Frank Debenham and T. Griffith Taylor, the geologists of terra nova's cape evans shore party:

they would both later go onto impressive careers in academia, start families, basically be well-liked hard-working guys (also participants in 20th century imperialism but let's take that as given based on our starting point of this expedition lol)

BUT we are meeting them here, in antarctica, aged 27 and 30, "Early Career Researchers" as we might call them now. trying to keep busy with SCIENCE during the long antarctic winter night of 1911!!!!!

these guys go way back btw. Deb was born and raised in Australia and and Griff moved to Australia when he was a kid, and they both attended the fancy-schmancy King's School near Sydney, the Australian equivalent of british public school (e.g. Eton). according to griff they were family friends at that time although they would have been a few years apart at school.

later around 1908 they both studied at the University of Sydney under leading geologist Sir Edgeworth David, who had been on Shackleton's Nimrod expedition and reached the South Magnetic Pole with Mawson. They both ended up being hired onto Scott's expedition through university connections, Deb via Professor David and Griff through a scholarship to Cambridge where he met Wilson.

okay. backstory established. now one thing you need to know about Griff is that he was a total freak. like Racovitza, he was a Poster before there were online platforms to Post on. if you had that kind of brain back then, and no access to adderall, you had to just sit around inventing new kinds of science instead of deep-frying spongebob screencaps. he was a consummate edwardian memelord who would read a novel per day and still have time to write 20 pages of diary in which he would floridly record the silliest things that happened since the morning, the various quirks and quotes of expedition members, and then complain about captain scott in shorthand.

to say nothing of his passion for CREATIVE WRITING! vitally, Griff was one of the main contributors to the Cape Evans hut magazine, the South Polar Times edited by Apsley Cherry-Garrard. there were 3 issues of this during the winter of 1911 and 1 issue during the winter of 1912, the latter of which included much material written/submitted during 1911 before the polar party met with tragedy.

Griff was a versatile writer, and his pieces (which would sometimes cumulatively make up nearly half an issue of the SPT by page count) ran the gamut from expository nonfiction to speculative poetry to comedic epistolary to magazine pastiche. he had certain motifs that he frequently returned to—none as compelling, in my opinion, as that of Jessamine. or Jasmine, or Jessie, or Jessica, as the case may be...

it all began, according to Griff's diary, early in the austral winter of 1911, when Deb was "christened Jasmine by Titus [Oates]."

where this nickname came from is unclear—many of the men had picked up female nicknames on the voyage down (see "Jane" Atkinson, "Marie" Nelson, "Penelope" Pennell) but Deb had not been on the voyage down because he had gotten picked up in Australia, so this may have been a belated attempt to correct that omission. Griff wrote in his book about the expedition, "We were short of female society—which lack also accounts for Jessie Debenham as an alternative to Deb."

in any case, the name clearly caught on: on midwinter day, a little under two months after the nickname's debut, Griff recorded that during the gift exchange after dinner "Every second present or so was a necklace or earrings for Miss Jessie Debenham."

(deb and titus at midwinter dinner)

THIS GOT REALLY LONG SO CLICK READ MORE IF YOU ARE INTERESTED!!

in the second SPT issue of 1911, Griff's 17-page narrative "The Bipes" describes the inhabitants of the Cape Evans hut from the perspective of a rabbit who lives in the stables. you can read the whole thing here and please do!!! (you'll need a VPN outside the US) BUT here is the relevant bit dealing with Deb:

U. PULCHERRIMA. This Bipe inhabits a strongly defended Bungkh in the Ubdug burrow. It is supported by mighty baulks of timber and can only be reached by means of a dangerous ladder. The Bungkh is supplied with heavy hammers, piles of stones and other offensive weapons. These precautions are, I believe, necessary in the Bipe courtship, for she is often called upon to repel members of other burrows who approach her balcony with blandishments. Her time is chiefly occupied with a primitive quern or handmill, and at this she grinds for long hours every day. I judge that this merely satisfies some primitive habit, for no flour seems to be produced. But it is pleasant to see how strong is the feminine instinct.

the species name "Pulcherrima" is also the species name of the pointsetta flower, and can be translated to "beautiful woman" (i think??)

here's the illustration produced by Bill Wilson (based on Griff's sketch) to accompany the above - yes that's a portrait of Griff in her bunk and Birdie below attempting to woo her:

it must be noted that Meares, nicknamed "Mother," also gets cast in a female role in the Bipes piece, but does not receive the privilege of being drawn in a skirt, rip.

anyway, the next issue of the SPT, vol 3 issue III, is the last one to be produced before the end of winter. Griff decided to one-up himself and write a piece in which Jessamine takes center stage. The Ladies Letter is a pitch-perfect parody of the "Ladies Column" sections that appeared in many periodicals of the era—full of french fashion terms and simpering style suggestions. Griff brilliantly adapts the format for a pastiche on the subject of Antarctic fashion; not free, naturally, from general whiffs of period-typical misogyny, but as those being mocked in specific are fellow expedition members and not any actual women i forgive him.

written in the form of a letter from Jessamine to her absent friend Cynthia (whose identity i'm unsure of BUT i'm tempted to say is supposed to be Priestley, away at Cape Adare), the piece again features multiple expedition members in female roles, including Silas as "American" Sally Wright, Cherry as "Madame Chérie - that dear delightful person - who builds her beautiful creations on strictly scientific principles of hygiene and aesthetics" and Birdie as Madame Berdé, who "finds that for well developed figures it is most distinctive to use a cross-gartering well above the ankle. She herself is naturally a consistent exponent of this latter fashion."

and then of course there is Jessamine's star turn. she is wearing the newest fashion, "a modification of last year's 'tube skirt' [which] even more closely swathes the lower limbs, and it is necessary that the wearer should be rolled along by her maid."

Jessamine reveals that she is planning to induce Titus Oates to bring her a proposal of marriage through the clever use of themed charms on her chatelaine.

All the smartest girls have wreathed chains of mascots around the skirt, and a pretty idea, which I commend to you, is to have silver model made of those articles which interest THE ONLY MAN WHO COUNTS. Breathe this to no one! But Mappin & Webb are making me such a choice set. The cutest little pony; a horse snowshoe (this is very lucky); a dead rabbit; a popgun; and a silver blazon PER MARE PER TERRAM PRO TITO; this will be attached to my 'tube', and then I really do expect to bring him to a proposal.

this scenario was illustrated hilariously by Bill, complete with Jessamine being rolled along, and Titus ignoring her as could be expected, in favor of a pony (Christopher?):

now, Deb is on record saying that Titus was his best friend on the expedition, but it may well be a classic case of "you are not your best friend's best friend," because per other accounts Oates was much closer to Meares and Atch than he was to Deb. that's just an observation to add a little flavor to Jessamine's desperate pursuit as portrayed here...

and not to look a gift horse (ha) in the mouth, but i do feel that Bill's illustrations don't quiiiiiite do the genderfuckery of Griff's text justice—Jessamine describes herself as wearing a frock inspired by the aurora, but Bill instead draws Deb in normal sledging gear plus some non-dress-shaped colorful streamers. a missed opportunity...

also, lest you think that Griff was the only one partaking in the Jessamine joke in the SPT, there is also a sneaky reference in the anonymous feature "My Favorite Book":

(J-SS-- [JESSIE]: "Not like other girls")

BUT WAIT. THERE'S EVEN MORE.

viewing the handwritten drafts of the SPT held at the SPRI (because all of this is going to be an actual academic paper someday hopefully lol), i learned that there were a fair handful of references omitted from the final version, presumably thanks to Cherry's editorial oversight.

one "answer to correspondents" written by "Marie" Nelson went as follows:

Jessica: A single lady cannot be too careful about the respectability of her lodgings or the character of her companions.

(referencing Deb bunking with Griff and Gran, two of the more annoying/messy people in the hut)

and an unused entry in "Songs And Their Singers" by Teddy Evans was:

Oh What’s Womans Duty - Jasmin

lastly, and most importantly, the drafts contained the one instance i could find of deb firing back about this whole thing.

vol IV of the SPT consisted of one issue released during winter 1912, when a lot of people had gone home (including Griff), and everyone left behind knew the polar party was dead and they'd have to go look for their bodies in the spring. it was not a fun time. vol IV contained a lot of material written the previous year but not included, since for obvious reasons folks weren't really up to being silly. one of those pieces was "A Day's Doings, Told By Our Diarist," written during winter 1911 by Deb as a parody of Griff. it's pretty funny in published form (p. 72 of this pdf)—Deb is on-point mocking Griff's dislike of eating ("Breakfast is an unintellectual meal, so gave it a miss. Better a bit more bunk than a bite more breakfast.") and his never-ending theorizing ("Thought out a new theory as to the origin of debris cones: yesterday’s wasn’t good enough").

however, the draft is exponentially more hilarious. Cherry, damn him, cut the absolute BEST BIT:

Made a genre sketch of Jasmine brushing her (his) hair – it’s a fool nickname anyways, mixes up the genders.

knowing Deb—quiet, patient, chronically non-confrontational—that's about as explicit as he was willing to get, as far as revealing how he felt about the nickname. writing Griff realizing that it's a bit silly, he reveals to some degree his own discomfort. now, was it a "protest too much" situation or had he genuinely gotten fed up with being the Designated Girl Of The Hut? we shall never know!!!!!!!!

however the draft of the piece ends thusly: "[I] got paralysed at chess by the wily Jasmine, it’s a mud game, if ever there was one. Hinc illae lacrimae!"

so despite all the aspersions cast on her honor, and the failure of Titus Oates to accept her proposal, Jessie still triumphs in the end :)))

#polar exploration #now with more gender

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mechaknight-98 · 14 days

Text

Gathering CEDH Edition: Mana Confluence

Author's note: insert funny self-deprecating joke here to appeal to the audience

"Hey, Um Hiro can I ask your advice on something," Connor asked me stuttering.

"You're asking your youngest friend for advice. Well, then you must be desperate. I am not judging let's see how I can hopefully help," I respond.

"Well it's about Yunjin..." Connor begins

"Oh yeah that reminds me, did you get my photocards signed," I asked hopeful.

"Yeah," Connor said as he handed me the cards signed by Le Sserafim's ridiculously popular it girl Chaewon.

"Oh sick you used the metallic Sharpies and everything," I smiled

"Yeah, she loved that they were Pokemon cards too," Connor replied.

I smiled but quickly remembered why he approached me.

"While I'd love to marvel at these. I do believe you had a question friend," I reply.

"Oh yeah, it's about Yunjin...I think I have a crush on her," Connor replies and my eyes go wide.

After Connor's fated Gathering with Giselle of Aespa or as she liked to be called by him Aeri. their relationship blossomed significantly. Both Professionally and Personally, which is why Connor found himself sitting with her in the general room of SM Entertainment. They had recruited Connor to do some filming with them after a very strong recommendation from Karina. Which is why Connor is in South Korea instead of New York right now. Connor was discussing various scenes for an upcoming music video for the group with the leader who had taken an interest in Connor. While Connor sits with Karina discussing various aspects of filming she breaks the flow of conversation to take a detour into something more personal.

“Okay Infinite sounds good, but I have something to ask,” Karina says to Connor, when she uses Connor's discord tag Connor knew it was serious/ or personal.

“ Karina we have been through this you can call me Connor in real life, but yeah what’s up?” Connor says and asks in return.

“It’s about Giselle. She has been in distress recently due to some comments on social media.” Connor scratched his head. Mean comments were par the course for any person in the public eye. Seeing his skepticism, and with Karina being the great leader she handed him a phone with some of the comments. he read them and watched in terror as they went from a little nippy to downright vile. he winced

“See. Someone who isn’t a part of this or her leader needs to talk to her. Maybe a close friend” Karina suggested confidently

he sighs, “I am not good at these types of things. I am much better suited to hyping her up.” is his follow-up. Karina holds firm

“Sorry, but you are the oldest you have to take responsibility. Also hyping her up is probably what she needs right now.” Karina says with a sly smile. So he sucks it up.

Later in the day after completing his shoot for Le Sserafim, he heads back to the SM building. On his way out of Yunjin, the Le Sserafim vocalist approaches him. Her bright hair billowing as she saunters over, “Hey Jen. Connor says to her.”

“Hey, Connor! how’s my fellow American?” Yunjin aka Jenifer asked

“Oh, you know getting busy living before I get busy dying,” Connor responds

“Good, good. Oh by the way we should like hang out. You seem cool enough and I need someone who isn’t a part of all this (She gestures around herself.).Plus I don’t often get the chance to interact with Americans out here so it’s great to see more.” Jen says. Connor laughs

“Jennifer, I am Korean as well … you remember that right? Also, are you asking me out? Because it sounds like it.” Connor teases while raising an eyebrow.

Jen laughs and says, “Yeah I know Who knows maybe.” He responds in kind and goes on his way. He arrives in time just before Aespa leaves for the end of the day. The girls look exhausted, especially Giselle who looks miserable. When Giselle sees Connor her eyes brighten.

“Friday Night Magic?” Giselle asks hopeful

Connor nods and Winter sighs relieved. “Ugh, you have no idea how annoying she’s been about it. Please take her. Maybe beat her again.” laughs ring out from all present.

“I don’t know she’s gotten a lot better.” Connor quips

“Only because you throw the most insane things at me,” Giselle said.

“You’re lucky you’re playing against me and not my friend Dexter.” Connor chides. Aeri looks at Connor with surprise.

“Oh and what does he play, and why haven’t I?” Aeri inquired

“Some evil and powerful stuff( Mostly in Temur Connor doesn't mention this but I am because it will be relevant later). Also to answer your second question…he doesn’t like coming out of his zone, but we may be able to coax him out later as he also likes K-pop as well.” Connor explains and replies.

Connor laughs as the duo gets into his car. He is careful to appear extra staff like today because one of the comments read “Who is that Dumb looking redhead? Is that her boyfriend.” (Connor has vibrant red hair…again will be relevant later). When they get into the car Connor is silent for a moment as the comments he saw earlier rush through his head along with Karina’s charge to him. He could see Giselle fidgeting with various parts of her bag while she got in.

“Yo Aeri. Are you okay? I saw some comments the other day that were less than on your recent comeback and wanted to check in to make sure you are doing alright.” Connor asks casually

Giselle sighed. “Can we not talk about it?” She asked. Connor nods. he knows from experience that this can’t end well but he lets it go for the time being. He wanted Aeri to be comfortable. He knows what it was like to have a well-meaning friend pry into your life. He sends a reassuring smile at Aeri and drives to the shop.

When They arrive Aeri smiles weakly, the Talk about her, Her weight her personality finally cracks her and she breaks. before entering Aeri looks at Connor with a serious face. “I can’t do this Connor. Can we do something else tonight?” He nods giving a thumbs up to his friend. She smiles sincerely this time. He takes her to a K-BBQ place that He wants to try. She is elated (I get it food is the easiest way to ease the soul.) to get into said Korean BBQ place. Surprise, surprise guess who’s waiting there is Jen and her unnie Sakura. Sakura is the first to notice Connor. Her eyes are always scanning and when she sees him, she squints, and then her eyes go wide and she smiles. “Oh Oppa come on over,” Sakura says giddily. Connor smiles and walks over with Aeri. Sakura shakes Yunjin who still hasn’t noticed Connor yet Letting her know their table is ready.

“Hey, Jen. Hey Kkura.” Connor says pleasantly. Jen turns around and her eyes go wide

“Ah, what?” she yells excitedly. Connor waves and Aeri smiles.

“Ah, you just couldn’t stay away from me.” Jen teases. Connor goes to introduce Aeri but Jen says “Dude we already know Aeri.” he nods and sits with them.

“you guys came just in time. It was originally supposed to be all five of us but Eunchae, Kazuha, and Chaewon unnie bailed on us.” Jen said as Aeri and Connor nodded and sat with them. Jen looked at Connor with just the happiest smile and brightest eyes, she turned to Aeri and said to her, “Hey Giselle Unnie. You look great today, but if I remember correctly I thought you were supposed to be hanging out with Connor tonight..alone.” Connor notices that Jen is not giving him his proper honorific which is weird since she is doing it for everyone else. he wonders if that’s personal like he has done something to upset her.

“Oh well it’s just a lot going on you know?” before Aeri could continue the waitress came to the table with menus. While Aeri and Jen talk Connor chats to Sakura and informs her of what’s going on discretely.

She looks at him and then Aeri with wide eyes full of concern. After he finishes she says to him, “Oh don’t worry about it I’ll talk to her.

Connor nods his head and says “Now don’t mention anything directly just try to make her feel comfortable.” Sakura puts her index finger to his lips.

“Allow me to work my magic,” Sakura says politely. Connor shrugs.

“Ah, what are you two whispering about?” Jen says suspicious of the two.

“Oh, Oppa and I were just discussing how amazing Giselle’s performances have been. She has been improving so much.” he nods excitedly eager to get the heat off himself. Both Aeri and Jen look at Connor confused. When the waitress rearrives at the table they order. Connor orders with Jen and Aeri with Sakura. He moves after ordering in his seat as he sits across from Sakura who looks around his neck area. “Hey oppa what’s that.” he noticed she was pointing toward his Gingaman tattoo on the right side of his collar that was slightly sticking out. he moves your shirt collar to show Sakura. Sakura looks at it for a moment… Aeri begins to chuckle.

“is that the starbeast sword?” she says between chuckles. Connor nods, and her chuckles grow to full laughs

“I knew I recognized it,” Sakura says with a smile. The two Japanese ladies begin to converse in the original tongue while Connor and Jen look at each other. they both roll their eyes when they hear the word American come from the two of them. Connor turns to Jen but she is watching the two girls talk with interest. so He sat “alone”, waiting for the opportunity to speak again. After about ten minutes of order, Aeri speaks to you, “Hey Connor why didn’t you make a Korvold paper deck?”

Connor looks at Aeri confused and answers, “I do have a paper Rocco Caberetti Caterer CEDH deck.”

Now Aeri looked confused asking, “Then how come I have never seen you play it?”

he claps your hands together, and responds “Well It has a lot more bite than Narset Enlightened Exile.” Aeri looks at him confused still.

“What do you mean by more bite?” She asked. This makes Connor realize even for all of her excellent English skills some things don’t translate. Connor tried to figure out how to translate until Jen came to your rescue.

“He means it’s stronger than his other one (she turns to Connor) that is right?” she answers and asks.

Connor’s reply is a simple nod. “in this context I mean it’s less fun to play against, and more geared towards stronger player’s play.” He fully clarifies. Everyone nods to his point, except Sakura who looks at Connor with interest.

Sakura turns to Aeri and asks“ Rocco that name sounds familiar. What’s that from?” Aeri explains to her how they both play Magic The Gathering, and as soon as she says Magic her eyes go wide, and she turns to him. “Oh, Oh, I play that… I played (Sakura snaps her fingers twice for recollection)…

“Arena?” Connor Suggests. Sakura nods

On the phone… yeah I taught Yujin, Yena, and Hyewon. Yujin is good and still plays. She would always complain about someone playing against Rocco. I stopped playing because they kept updating the game too fast but I guess she never did.” You look at Sakura confused, and point to Yunjin (Jen) who also looks at her confused.

“OH YUJin-ah, not YUNjin-ah.” Sakura clarifies and this brings alacrity to everyone present except Connor who forgot about Izone for a moment.

“Wait how do you know Yujin,” Connor asks Everyone looks at him for a moment. It still doesn’t click. A few minutes pass and then he remembers. “Oh right, you used to be in a group together. I completely forgot. Hmm, that’s weird considering how much my roommate loves Izone. He is the one who got me into Magic the Gathering. I got him into K-pop.” Connor says. Everyone present begins to laugh.

Sakura looks at Connor intrigued, “Oh what’s your roommate’s name?”

“Oh Dexter but I call him Dex for short. We also have this crazy guy who's like our little brother named...” Connor answers.

"Hiro is the name you were about to say right," Sakura asks. Connor nods

"Yeah, Chaewon mentioned him and how she signed some K-pop cards for you that were Pokemon cards," Sakura explained. Yunjin's eyes went wide

"Oh so that's who got the Chaewon cards," She replied. Sakura nodded

Aeri snaps her fingers in recognition of the names. After that the food arrives and The group eats and converses about various boring topics I won’t go through the tedium of repeating here. (I am trying to keep this somewhat engaging after all). Afterwards, they finish up Connor pays for the meal. (Like a boss)

“Thanks, Oppa,” Sakura says to Connor and he gives her a thumbs up as he leaves with Aeri.

When they arrive at Aespa’s dorm she smiles and says, “Thank you, Connor. I appreciate it.”

He says “No worries“ as he's going to leave before though can Aeri grabs him.

“Hey Oppa what do you do when you think you’re not good enough?” Aeri asks Connor pleading.

Connor considers her words, he doesn’t often falter for confidence (Like the previously mentioned boss he is). So he has to think for a moment and then respond. “As much as I want to say just be yourself I can’t bring myself to. It boils down to not listening to critiques that aren't genuine. For example, Hiro is always critiquing my work, but it comes not from a place of tearing others down but to refine them. Those I listen to. I don't listen to insincere critiques like "Why did you use that actress she's a fat pig. Those are insults and we don't listen to them. Eventually, you'll get better. besides didn't you have the least amount of training of your group? I wouldn't worry about the criticisms too much,” Aeri looks at Him and smiles.

“Okay, I will keep that in mind.” She says as she smiles and leaves. He drives his little blue rental back to his hotel to get ready to fly back home.

Two weeks later Connor’s back to work filming with Le Sserafim for promotions in the States. The staff and the girls for the most part are kind and gentle people. Connor enjoys working with them. As he is finishing up for day 1 Jen corners him along with Sakura. “Hey, you’re pretty good at Magic right?” Jen asks. Connor nods. “Good then can you teach us? Giselle has been trying to get us to learn because she wants people she can play with besides Yujin, and Sakura doesn’t remember how to play.” Connor strokes his chin.

“That’s a lot of work. Like a lot of work.” He explains.

The girls smile at him and Jen says, “Well then it’s good we are going to be together for a few weeks.” Connor sighs.

“Okay then, but if we do this… we are doing it my way. Do you understand?” Connor asserts.

Both Kkura and Jen nod.

“Okay well then first things first set aside 250$ each. I want you both to be able to build both fun and functional decks so I need you to do that. I also want you both, if you haven’t already download mtg Arena and just play with what they give you. This will be the easiest way to teach the basics and give you both a net of general play styles you enjoy. Please for the love of God Almighty do not spend any money on the app. You are both too inexperienced to know what’s worth purchasing and will not have fun in the long haul. please don’t be like me. Dexter tried to warn me but I didn’t listen. Also, I feel like I should mention this check out Dice Try’s YouTube channel and watch the videos on shards and wedges it will give you all a very clear view of what each one is about, and potentially what you align with,” Connor says before both nodded and leave for the day. After that Connor finished packing up all of his cameras, and other film gear and went home.

When he got home he got a discord call from Scorpion-love-00. “Hey Connor I need your help. We need a third for our commander game.” Connor (who hates 3-player games) sighs and responds

“Skippy you know how I feel about three-player games.”

Scorpion responds, “I know but we just need a third to change up gameplay, at least for tonight.” this turns out to be untrue as for the next two weeks you are playing arch-enemy against Scorpion and her new friend Ujinnie… Sometimes there’s a random 4th that joins. Who’s good but also kind of non-verbal (It’s me…I am that person, but I haven’t officially met Aeri, or Yujin yet, but spoilers it’s me… the narrator. Or it's another character you will meet later who plays Esper shenanigans) Connor tries not to be annoyed as his off time is becoming dominated by mtg. Eventually, he ropes his roommate; Dexter, who was a magic savant in his eyes.

this makes the experience more fun for everyone involved. Your friend hit it off with Giselle, and Ujinnie when she can play as well. Which was funny because were at each other’s throats at first. This would lead to one of the later “game nights” when Connor invites Dex, and me to Help with filming. Which brings us back to the present.

"So you like Yunjin...what about Aeri," I ask inquisitively

"Aeri and I get along great but it feels like she's my sister at times," Connor replies. I nod

"Well my take is that you figure out your feelings first, but I am also aware that honestly, you may just be in love with Yunjin," I reply. Connor nods and then says, Also thank you for helping me film fearless Kura when the girls come out here," Connor said. I looked at him blinked thrice and replied

"What do you mean help?"

"You are going to help with deck building and filming of course," Connor replied. I blinked again trying to process the insane information being thrown my way. I a rando would be helping Megastar Sakura Miyawaki film Magic the gathering content.

"Um Okay sure," I reply as I give Connor a thumbs up

A few days later we all arrived at the film location. As we set up with their decks the Fimmies + Giselle approached us surprised. “Oh, Connor Oppa who is this?” Sakura asked as she approached.

“Oh, this is Dexter. My friend who is a director and also a camera guy. He is good at mtg, and the other is Hiro...We don't know his real name just his social media handle. He is also really good at MTG super versatile as a player as well. We were playing together against Aeri and this girl named Ujinnie Yesterday and it was late so I figured they could help me today.” Connor clarified

Dexter and I looked up when we heard our names called before quickly going back to work.

“Wait is he the one who goes by Stealth Dragon Daihouzan?” Aeri asked pointing at Dexter

Connor shakes his head. I raise my hand, "No that's me," I reply to them. Connor looks at me surprised

"why didn't you say anything," Connor asked.

"I didn't think anything of it. I just play the game, and you guys were almost always online when I wanted to play," I replied shocked I was playing with my friend and two K-pop stars.

“Oh Yunjin ah ask him your question," Sakura replies Connor feels a pang of Jealousy as he watches Jen smile as she goes up to me. while Dexter and I on the other hand are focused on setting up the set.

“Oh, so your Daihouzan... Can I call you something shorter," Jen asks. I nod and reply "Hiro" Jen smiles at this point I notice Connor's sour look (His poker face was good I just knew how to read him specifically) I have heard a lot about you.”Jen exclaims

I nod and respond skeptically, “That's potentially worrying, but ah what the heck, how can I help you?”

“So I love typal decks and Aeri says you’re scary good at building them”

I cringe as Dexter looks at Yunjin hesitantly (we both dislike the term typal for various reasons), and then we look at Connor for guidance. Connor gives the thumbs up, and I respond, “What creature typer were you thinking and how do you want to play it?”

“I want an aggressive angel deck in white red black,” Yunjin responds. I sigh exasperatedly and die a little on the inside before he responds. Connor knew what I was about to recommend and he knew how much I hated to do so.

“Then you’re probably going to want to run Kaalia of the Vast,” I say dejectedly. Connor knows that was hard for him because I hated Kaalia so to see him suggest that for Jen made Connor laugh uncontrollably Envy fading into the back of his mind.

Jen was confused “What’s wrong with Kaalia?” She asked noticing the shift in atmosphere between her friend and his buddies.

“Nothing I just have a personal vendetta since my friend whom, I first played a lot against played her a lot, and well I was not a fan. She is wildly powerful but also super obnoxious,” I responded

Aeri's eyes narrowed at me looked at me and replied “You have a weird idea of obnoxious. I complained so much about your Omnath locus of creation deck,( Aeri doesn’t explain this but for those who are curious it’s The 4 color nonblack one, and one of my signature decks)” Connor watches as Dexter laughs, as he finishes setting up to face Kkura.

“Well to be fair I also did beat up on her because she was playing Yuriko, but the reason she is probably more upset is that she may be an enfranchised player, but she isn't entrenched,” Dexter responds. Connor looks at Dexter disappointed knowing the ensuing conversation that would follow.

“Listen just because you run free mana spells, lotuses, and og duals does not make you a better player,” Connor says to Dexter

“No, what makes me a better player is that I no-life this game. Same with Hiro,” Dexter responded which caused a laugh from all present Except Jen. Jen looked at him with surprise.

“No-life the game?” she said with her near trademarked confused face.

“Oh, Yunjin-ah he just means that mtg is the only game he plays,” Sakura responded

“That and Hunt Showdown.” Dexter clarifies. He lifts his sleeve to show his tattoo from the mentioned game.

"I play Warframe, and Monster Hunter," I interject

“Oh, that’s cool. so the two of you must be good,” Jen responds.

Dexter and I laugh knowing being "really good" is relative

Connor smiles as he looks at his friends getting along so well together. after finishing up chatting with the Fimmies Connor, Dexter, and I went to finish getting ready for the shoot. the shoot proceeds smoothly, and after the shoot; Connor, Dexter, Jen, Aeri, Kkura, and I go to hang out.

“So we saved our 250$ Connor,” Jen says to Connor after the shoot. Dexter and I begin to laugh in his seat while Connor is driving. He sighs knowing the two of them are going to have to help them learn the game in earnest.

“Hey before you do this. have you two thought of turning this in content? like YouTube videos. I know Sakura has her YouTube channel and this could be a funny episode.” Dexter suggested absent-minded Sakura looked at the Native Alaskan/Russian and her eyes widened.

Two weeks days later Jen, Aeri, Connor, Dexter, Sakura, and I were all on the set of Sakura’s YouTube (Fearless Kkura, which will become the interchangeable name for her now) channel which today happened to be a Studio that Dexter and Connor found. Dexter is acting as an assistant director for the episode, but also helping Kkura learn her deck. We all had input in construction. I was in charge of making playable mana bases because I never falter in those. Kkura is a bit distracted looking at Dexter’s shirt. It was Godzilla Vs. Great Ape Vegeta. “Okay so after you get a good mill chain going you’re going to want to start reanimating your big threats,” he said with a relaxed smile. Connor knows that Dexter loves Le Sserafim Sakura was his bias (Mine as you probably assumed is Chaewon) so he is trying his best here to not fanboy. Despite his worries, Connor sees he’s doing well. He’s relaxed. Jen and Aeri sneak up behind him.

“They have really good chemistry, Just like us,” Aeri says. Connor turns around surprised to see his two friends leaning against each other as they watch Dexter and Sakura discuss plans.

“Yeah, Kkura unnie likes his vibe,” Jen said with a bit of a laugh.

“Yeah, Dexter is a good guy,” Connor says.

“Oh, that reminds me. How’d you meet him Oppa?” Aeri asks. Connor notices Jen’s confused look at Aeri as she walks back to the table. Again he wonders if you did something to annoy Jen causing her issue with the honorifics.

“Oh that’s easy we are roommates in college and now kinda permanently. He also helped me get through some really bad times by being like an older brother to me,” he responded

“Oh, how old is he?” Aeri asks.

“he’s Eunbi's age,” Connor replied

“Oh wow, I guess he is an Oppa too. It’s so weird he and Kkura unnie feel younger.” Giselle states

"Wait how old is Hiro then," Yunjin asks. I happened to be walking by doing set up and casually said

"I am a month and 13 days older than Kkura," as I spoke I moved other cameras to where they needed to go. Yunjin smiled

"Thanks, oppa," Yunjin said. I gave her a thumbs-up as I continued on my way

“Well I don’t know Kkura that well but I do know Dexter, and that stems from his immense sincerity. Out of all of the players I know who play MTG, I have only seen two that embody a wedge and he is one of them. He plays a lot of simic x color decks but he is Naya boy through and through in terms of mentality and temperament.” Connor explains

Aeri laughs, “You know I see that. He is so focused and meticulous but also extremely kind-hearted and empathetic.”

“Also and you didn’t hear this from me, his best deck is not Maelstrom Wanderer but his Zaccama deck that's the real killer. That deck is nasty to play against.” Connor adds

“Oh really that’s surprising I would have figured it would have been Maelstrom based on Yujin’s complaints.” Aeri jokes

"Nope! Gishath has all of his crazy cards," I said as I walked past again

"Like what," Aeri asked

"Og duals, fast mana, and free spells," Connor explained

As I walked by again Yunjin grabbed me. "Stand still, will ya," she teased

"What's up," I asked

"No we just want you here as you're our friend too now," Aeri replied. My eyes went wide and my throat became dry.

"So you play green black blue right?" Aeri asked and I nod

"You helped with Kkura's deck right," Yunjin asked I nodded again

"What would be your pointers for helping us against Kkura's Kess dissident Mage deck," they both asked. I shrugged and replied.

"Most of your all's decks are commander-centric. so consistently removing said commander is going to be your best bet." the girls nodded and then turned to Connor

"So what about you guys' decks since you guys haven't shown us what y'all are playing," Yunjin said

"Wait we are playing? I thought the decks we built were just meant to be alternates," Connor and I asked

Aeri looked at Yunjin who just realized she spoiled the surprise.

"Yeah you guys are playing this episode," Aeri explained annoyed, "It was supposed to be a surprise but I guess the cat is out of the bag now," I nodded and took a step back then at Connor. a billion thoughts raced through my head but instead of worrying about them I just locked in on work. Yunjin dragged me off to have me help her get microphoned and Giselle dragged Connor with her

Connor and Giselle watch Dexter, Sakura, Yunjin and I all interact. "Crazy group we have," she said. Connor nods

"Yeah crazy to think it's been almost two months since we became friends," Connor states

"Yeah you're the older brother I always wanted," Aeri says. Connor winces a little before saying,

"Thanks" Connor replies

"Wait did I say something wrong," Giselle asked

"No I just didn't know what we were and this I guess is confirmation," Connor replies taking a page out of my book and scratching his head.

"Dude...Yunjin has your heart. I see the way you look at her. You should go for her. She is so smitten with you and would love it," Aeri says.

A huge wave of relief washes over Connor as he looks at Yunjin who is currently teasing me over the signed Chaewon card on my phone case

"Wait Hiro do you have a crush on Chaewon unnie," Yunjin says teasingly

I scowl at her and consider my response carefully, " I think all of you are super talented and I love all of Le Sserafim equally besides Eunchae, and that's only because I feel weird saying I love a minor," Yunjin laughs

"You're so silly. You and Chaewon will hit it off so well," Yunjin says

"Wait really," I say excited my mask slipping.

"So you do like her," Yunjin said victoriously. I sighed and nodded.

"No worries. I think she'll like you too. Now where did you get this card of Chaewon, and do they make one for all of us," Yunjin asked me. I nodded and replied

"Yeah there's this guy on Instagram who makes the cards, They're super cool. I can get one for all of you guys," I reply

"Oh that would be so cool," Yunjin says as we finish getting microphoned. Giselle and Connor laugh as they watch my stumbling and go over to a similar scene playing between Sakura and Dexter.

“So I hear you are a Wizone. Who was your bias?” Kkura asked Dexter intently

“Eunbi-noona I love her personality,” Dexter says flatly trying again not to Fanboy too hard

Sakura groans, “Really? Ugh”

“Wait wait wait. Aren’t you going to ask my Le Sserafim Bias?” Dexter responded realizing he made a mistake.

“Oh let me guess Chaewon?” Kura asks dejected

“While I do think she is cute, nope. It’s Sakura Miyawaki. Maybe you’ve heard of her.” Dexter said teasingly. Sakura began to blush and then lightly hit Dexter’s shoulder.

“We’ll talk after filming,” she said with a glare.

Before the episode started Dexter gave everyone super nice alter/proxies made by the online artist “Atomic Ashes”, but it was then revealed that we would also be in the episode him and he froze. he quickly recovered and got set up next to Kkura.

The Episode starts as we are rushed off the screen.

"Welcome to Fearless Kkura, and today I have some new faces," Sakura says in perfect Korean (I am told it's perfect by Connor who comments on how good it is.)

as Kkura mentions the new faces we are ushered back on screen, along with Yunjin and Aeri

"For those who don't know you all introduce yourself and what we are doing today," Sakura says. Dexter and Connor freeze I don't

"Hi, my name is Hiro these are my partners Dexter and Connor and together we are the Collective called DECOHI Productions. we make short films and other small productions, but I forget what brings us here today maybe Connor can help us out,"

Connor has now thawed and steps up, "Yeah We are here to help Sakura, Giselle, and Yunjin learn Commander, a subsection of Magic The Gathering,"

Dexter now finally calmed builds off of Connor, "Yeah we all helped them build decks and choose their commanders but before that, we have to teach them the basics, and maybe a few tips and tricks so stay tuned," he replies. We step back to the applause of Jen, Kkura, and Aeri.

"Wow great intro," Sakura said "Now let's get into it," she added. The cameras stopped as we moved to another set where there were seats and the other producers and directors asked us to sit.

The cameras start rolling and I lock in again.

"So what are the basics of Magic The Gathering Dexter," Sakura asks

"Well, Kkura the first thing you need to know is that Magic is a game of resources. everything is scare and limited,"

"Until it's infinite," I interject cooly,

"Huh," Yunjin asked confused

"Long story we'll get to that later, Now Connor please tell the lovely ladies about the game basics...Lands that is," I say

Connor and Dexter instantly know what I am doing and start riffing off of me from then on, "Well Magic has 8 card Types as of right now; Battle, Lands, Enchantments, artifacts, Soceries, instants, creatures, and planeswalkers. For commander, you may only have one of each card with a few exceptions. Basic Lands being the first. I think Hiro is best suited to explain the exceptions as he plays to many of the exceptions of MTG," Connor said

I looked at Connor surprised, "What's that supposed to mean," I say

Connor smiles trying to rile me up as he says, "It means you're a cheater,"

"But it's in the rules," I reply

Dexter smugly adds, "Doesn't make it fair,"

"Fair is relative, but I digress. In magic, there is a resource called mana. The easiest way to get it is to play cards like basic lands which tap for one mana usually. These can be played once a turn and tap for one of the 5 colors of Magic," I answer

"Oh this game has colors what are they," Aeri asks

"Oh green white blue black red," I reply, "Each color focuses on something different, and can be attributed to a virtue or vice,"

"Well now you gotta explain which is which," Yunjin said

"Green is Growth and Gluttony. White is Order or Inflexibility. Blue is change/Condescension. Black is Sacrifice or Pride. Red is passion and wrath. These colors can be combined with others to further their in-game strengths or shore up their weakness. the most common for commanders being two or three-color. Connor, Dexter, and I prefer three colors as they are the most consistent and most well-rounded the game has to offer."

"Oh really," Kkura asks, and the three of us nod.

"Well what have you built for us and what are your color combinations," Kkura asks.

"Well, I am blue red White, or nicknamed Jeskai. Jeskai is cunning and calculating but also warm and kind. except on the battlefield so enjoy it now friends because when we enter the field of battle I will crush all my enemies." Connor monologued

Dexter waved humbly and replied, " Red Green white is my combo. it's known for a lot of creature-based value. I like creatures so the combo works for me."

"Oh wow of course you two leave me with the hard job...(I turn to the camera.) Red players" I scoff which gets a laugh out of Kura and Aeri.

"For Sakura, we built a recursion-heavy Kess dissident mage deck that uses the colors Blue, Black Red, and hopes to utilize its graveyard as a second hand to push to an insurmountable advantage. This color combo is commonly known as Grixis. Next, we have Giselle on a White black Green (Abzan) Anafenza of the foremost deck. its goal is to keep the other players honest by limiting the amount of crazy shenanigans they can do. Lastly, we have hot girl Jen with an absolutely hot deck of Dragons and Angels helmed by Kaalia of the vast, red white black deck that seeks to cheat big beefy creatures into play to beat her opponents into submission." I relayed before taking a breath.

Eventually, Sakura asked the Magic words, "What are you playing Hiro?"

"Oh just the best color Combination," I reply.

#kpop fanfic #fanfic #edh #mtg commander #le sserafim yunjin #aespa giselle #miyawaki sakura #aespa kpop

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cdragons · 6 months

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Procesión de la Muerte (Procession of the Dead) - Druig x Hecate!Eternal Reader Halloween Oneshot

Pairings: Druig x Hecate!Eternal Reader, Druig x Kaetlyn Word Count: over 4.0k Summary: How a wife's love for her emo-pacifist mind-controller husband accidentally created a centuries old legend of the Amazon Rainforest, ended up bringing to light one of the most sacred and honored celebrated traditions in South and Central America. Warning(s): Words that are bold and italisized indicate spoken in another language bc I can't speak nor write Spanish & don't want to offend anyone by using Google Translate, Angst, mention of death & genocide & war (fun stuff y'all), mentions of depression and PTSD, slight mention of blood, necromancy practices, probably really inaccurate descriptions of magic and magical practices, Kaet is seriously so gone for Druig (i fucking love these two dorks), Cerberus is the goodest boi,

Notes: Yes, I know that Halloween has technically passed, but I had midterms and projects during the time so I'm using the rest of the season as a Free Fall fics pass until December. So this oneshot was beta read by the ever-so lovely @ethereal-athalia, who has so graciously sacrificed herself agreed to beta read all of my fics for the upcoming future while my usual beta reader @valeskafics, is currently really busy with law school until the foreseeable future! Even so, please go visit her blog because she is one of the best writers on Tumblr, especially if you are a fan of Ewan Mitchell, and the HOTD/GOT universe! If you have read any of my past works, you know that my girl @ethereal-athalia is pretty much the co-parent of this Eternals AU idea, and I absolutely love sharing ideas with her, and making connections to make these fics more interesting. Anyway, please be kind and enjoy!

There was an energy that encompassed the autumnal season’s high holiday that made its ancient magic so enchanting and powerful. It was a time known across practitioners of the mystic arts of any field that autumn was a season known more than for its abundance and harvest. It was a time of transformation, of when summer’s green fertility gave way to winter’s bleak barrenness. It was when the veil between the physical and spiritual planes was at its thinnest. A time in which both magic practitioners and mundane were able to catch the slightest glimpse to the other side. This was the time where magic was at its peak, and it was all because of you- his love; his wife; his angel of shadow & death who was also his harbinger of light & life.

Although the environment of his home rarely changes throughout the year, Druig still felt the unmistakable chills that danced on his bare skin that came with transition from summer to autumn, and from there approached winter’s foreshadowing. Despite the abandonment of summer’s warmth, the mind-controller Eternal was often teased by you for being considered an avid enthusiast for the unforgiving seasons by the standards of their family. However, it was Samhain that made your husband greet the year’s end with such glee. Furthermore, it was a day that would forever be etched into the bareness of his being by the testaments of your love and devotion towards him. Each act from you followed from an event that harrowed him.

But the only way to best understand was by starting at the beginning.

It was no secret that you worked best at night with the only witnesses to your work being the moon and stars. Although you adored the bustling livelihood that thrived in the village you and your husband created, there was something about the darkness and solitude of the night that made Kaetlyn feel more connected to her magic than the garish light of day could ever dream to accomplish. It was common for Kaetlyn would burn the midnight oil conducting experiments and immerse herself in research to secrets that still remained a mystery to her – even after 7000 years of existence.

Meanwhile, Druig would fall into a deep state that vaguely resembled a still corpse if it were not for the subtle rising and falling of his chest in tandem with his breathing. When the lily-pale mind-controller fell asleep, there was little that could get him up from his slumber. Too many times Ajak had lectured him for how late he would sleep into the day – not to mention the staggering occurrences in which he would accidentally sleep through a natural catastrophe. It became commonplace for their former leader to ask his lover to awaken him in the most compromising acts. It was inconvenient, but it got the job done.

But since the couple separated from their family as a result of witnessing the fall and horrific genocide of the once glorious Aztec civilization centered around Tenochtitlan from the Spanish Conquistadors, there would be nights where Druig would be unable to fall asleep. It did not matter what he would do in attempt to tire him, his memory of fire and screams plagued his mind in an endless cycle of misery and devastation. It did not matter that he prevented further bloodshed by taking over the minds of the humans; it mattered even less when he and his angel led the horde of mortals south from the ruins to the land that they now call home. Sleep always evaded the somber Eternal, and whatever sleep he managed to get would be afflicted by memories turned nightmares of the horrors he had been forced to witness as a bystander to humanity’s cruelty by orders of their former leader.

The sight of your dearest in such agony tore your heart in the most brutal manner. Although you had also been long tormented by watching 7000 years of destruction, your heart had been hardened as a consequence to the multitude of deaths that you had to personally oversaw as a physician and a fighter. While you still carried hope for mankind, most of the naïve idealist dreams expired with time. However, this was not the case for Druig. You knew more than anyone that the strength of your lover’s will was overshadowed by the tenderness in his heart for those weaker than him and his family. It was that persisting quality of the beautiful mind-controller that drew the impulsive shadow wielder into his orbit, and eventually what caused such enduring steadfastness from your part.

It was not without tremendous effort from his wife’s part to get the immortal insomniac to get some rest. But all of your efforts were wasted on her part. Every night you would lead Druig to your shared bed, and whisper sweet words of comfort, as well as voicing your desperate pleas for him to finally rest. You would carefully stroke the firm lines of his frame with the tender touch of her fingertips, quickly finding areas of taut muscle to knead away any knots with your skillful hands. You had created countless versions of sleeping draughts that would calm his mind, and thousands of potions that would prevent him from dreams. But memories held more power than dreams, and so all of your efforts were met with the continued grief of your beloved.

Not being able to bear the sight of Druig’s turmoil, you decided to take further action. With your talents in the arcane, you designed a complex ritual that could only be completed at a grand scale- one that would take over an entire continent. It involved a form of magic that took up so much power and energy, it was only to be used as a last resort in any form of situation- necromancy. A magic that was only possible in theory, its crudest form was born before the outermost Walls of Babylon had yet to be constructed. You were approached by a shaman that was outcasted by her tribe when her husband discovered that she had been sacrificing their livestock to Ereshikigal, the Mesopotamian Queen of the Dead that ruled the Underworld. The woman had thought the Eternal to be the goddess herself, and begged you to allow the woman to see her late son that died in a raid.

Replying with only that her son was in peace in the higher dome in the heavens, you advised the shaman to return to her husband and perform a cleansing ritual to purify their home from the anger of the murdered animals. However, the shaman only pressed further, blurting out that the spirit of her son had been calling out to her in dreams. She revealed that she would stop until her son was at peace in the arms of Anu in An. Against you better judgement, you allowed yourself to be swayed by the mother’s grief, telling her that she would try her best to guide her son to the heavens so that he may rest in peace, but there would be no guarantee of success. After the woman gave her thanks by kneeling to the ground in a deep bow, you set off to work.

The Eternal spent months scouring over texts that theorized the use of magic manifestation, and detailed dreams of the dead rising. You recruited Makkari to search for more artifacts and texts in efforts to make the poor woman’s request a reality, a favor the silent speedster was more than happy to fulfill. It was only when winter was soon to be upon them that you were able to summon enough energy to prepare the ritual. Tracing a circle into the earth to serve as a temporary portal to the spiritual realm, the Eternal carved in the symbols that would allow you to put greater focus into directing the energy in the circle to attract the spirit’s energies before trapping it within its boundaries. From there, you would use the symbols that you painted on your skin to allow the magic around you to deconstruct the spirit’s current form into unbound electromagnetic particles, before reconstructing the matter into a more visible form. This flow of energy and change in the state of matter could only be achieved by physically placing your hands in the center of the circle. Using a mixture of your blood and the mother’s as a medium for the spirit to bind to so that there would not be such a large gap in the energy needed to activate the spell, it was finally complete.

It should have not have come as a surprise to her when she lost consciousness towards the end of the ritual. The raw power that connected her body to the earth felt as if liquid fire was coursing through her veins. The painted symbols became carvings as they dug into her body with searing pain as blood poured from the wounds. And though her body collapsed and she was too exhausted to keep her eyes open, Kaet knew that she was successful. As she laid on the ground, two words belonged to a young man’s voice echoed in her ear.

“Thank you.”

And from a budding magical practitioner’s too soft heart, came forth the rawest and crudest form of one of the most innately unstable and powerful fields of magic- necromancy.

From that day, the symbols took permanent residence on your skin, along with the ability to see the dead that were tied to the physical world, unable to move on for whatever reason. And although you adored your newfound power, Druig made you promise to never commit such acts on your own ever again. The ancient witch was met with screams of panic from Sersi when she and Sephia ventured out in search for you after seeing that you had not been in your room that morning. The site of you lying in a pool of your own blood with unfamiliar symbols etched into your skin was haunting to say the least.

The risk of your husband staring at you with glaring disappointment and furious worry was one worth taking if it meant that he could finally allow himself to rest. It took years of careful preparation; painfully precise attention to detail and timing; and endless travels across the globe to scour for masters in various fields of magic that specialized in divination, transformation, and theology. After nearly 10 years, when the veils between the two worlds finally overlapped for magic to reach its peak- along with the aid provided by the appearance in the hare moon’s rarity (when the earth was in perfect alignment with the Sun and Moon)- you knew that there was no time better than now.

That night, you sent out your shadows to search for any souls from the same genocide that haunted her beloved, and if they were in a state of unrest. You handed the village’s Head Weaver a small leather bag filled with ebony wood beads strung together and red string. While you hated to keep secrets from Druig, you knew that he would be able to sense the shift in the energies that surrounded them if you were successful. When the preparations were finally completed and your oldest shadow informed you of the location of the ritual, you left the bracelet that the Weaver finished – enchanted with spell that would be activated the same time of the ritual – on your pillow of their bed as you laid a tender kiss on his brow before setting off with only Cerberus by your side.

When Druig rose from his slumber – still wrought with gunpowder and fire – he instinctually reached for his wife, only for his fingers to feel a smooth, rounded texture. Opening his eyes, he noticed that your pillow was cold, but showed signs being slept in from the previous night. While such a sight would cause a much more panicked reaction from the man, he was comforted by the small note that laid carefully next to his gift. Picking up the parchment, a sense of calm washed over Druig as he took in the notes of jasmine and myrrh that come from your natural parfum.

Contents of Letter Below it:

My dearest Beloved,

I am sure that my absence from our bed must have been a rather awful shock to you. Please know that I am more than well, and have only been informed of unusual occurrences full of malicious whispers and daunting sights. And as much as I adore our home and your company, you know more than anyone of how my curiosity cannot be satisfied with only rumors and tales. No, I decided that it would be best to see it with my very own eyes. And although it would bring me nothing but joy to have you by my side, I could not bear wake you from your slumber. Rest suits my love, and it has been decades since you have slept so fitfully. Your dreams have been a constant source of your misery, and I do believe that this area may hold some promise to show me of how to ease your mind.

Rest assured my darling that I have travelled alone in my endeavors, I would never be so careless as to travel so far from you without the company of our sweet boy. Do not dare tell another soul of this, but I believe that the trek will do our boy some good. He has grown very lazy as a result of your spoiling. Yes, your spoiling, Druig- all coddling of Cerbie has been solely enacted by you, and none whatsoever committed by me. Do not dare attempt to argue this matter with me, for I would deny it till my final breath (and you know how stubborn I can be).

What did you think of my gift? During one of my many wanderings in the woods surrounding our home, I spied a dying tree with jet-black lumber. It stood in solitude from its thicket, but that only made its splendor even more enchanting, so much so that it reminded me of you. I used one of its branches to make some wooden beads, and asked for some leather to bind them. Please make sure that you wear them at all times, as they’ll reveal a little secret that will be revealed to you on the night of the full moon that will be arriving soon.

All of my love for you and your heart,

Kaetlyn

Despite the overall lack of sleep over the years, all of Druig’s anxiety seemed to wash away at your thoughtfulness. The bracelet was very elegant in its simplicity, but he could tell that it was made to last for lifetimes. Placing it on his wrist, a blanket of subtle warmth washed over him as he admired the little symbols carved into the wood. Tracing his finger over the design, he certified them to match that were etched into his angel’s lovely form. He would recognize the markings anywhere; it would be shameful if he didn’t after spending hours tracing their outline with his tongue. The knowledge that the full moon’s rising would begin tomorrow, and last for around 2-3 days. Relieved that he would not be without the company of his love for very long, Druig prepared himself for another day in protecting the compound and the humans that reside within its boundaries.

After you managed to track down the location of the largest gathering of souls, you set off preparations for the ritual immediately. A ceremony of this magnitude would shift the energies between the two worlds for the rest of eternity, so it was imperative that there would be no mistakes. Sephia already had instructions of ensuring that pathways that followed the ley lines in her journey would remain clear of any natural obstacles. It seemed too perfect that the fall of such a grand civilization that met its end with war and genocide would be at the center of such innate hidden supernatural energy. Tracing the circle around the entire city, you sat at the top of the very same temple where she and Druig had last seen the others. As the time of the moon’s rising grew shorter, you could feel the power felt only like a whisper gradually grow into a rumbling growl. You could hear the spirits that surrounded her being pulled toward inside the circle.

Wrath

Grief

Betrayal

Woe

Pain- so much pain

But they would all be at peace in the end.

Before long, twilight passed and dusk had come and the stars glittered in the endless expanse of the darkness. But all had paled in comparison to the illustrious light of the moon. Every month during the full moon, you and your husband would spend the nights locked in each other’s embrace, frozen in their admiration of its ivory glow and taking in their heightened emotional energies.

You wondered it was natural to feel so much pleasure from the power that came from being bathed in the blood red rays that came from the rare eclipse. Cerberus watched in silent obedience, not daring to move in fear of disrupting his mother’s spell, and thus ruining all of her work.

As the moon’s shadow hit the circle, the outermost boundary began to glow. As the celestial body inched across the sky, the faint howls echoed until it ascended into a deafening roar. When the moon reached it apex – directly in the center of the circle – the symbols engraved to her skin glowed while the ground beneath her feet rumbled and sang as her body collapsed from the overwhelming pressure. You could faintly hear your beloved hound’s frantic barking in the distance, trying to scare away all and any threat that came to his mother and savior. But soon they lessened into panicked whimpers at the sight of the millions of forms that were appearing before his very eyes.

In a village far away, a certain brunette’s enchanted bracelet’s beads with identical scores began to hum and glow against the lily-petal pallor on his wrist.

Before the power could tear you apart, the moon passed the circle’s boundaries, and it borders and symbols no longer sang and glowed. And when you lifted yourself with as much strength she had, you couldn’t stop the smile that took over her your as tears streamed from your eyes from the overwhelming joy that flooded your heart.

“I’m sorry for the pain you’ve had to endure for so long, but I’m happy to tell you that it will not be for much longer.”

While normally Druig wouldn’t need to be so intensely involved in matters of the village, it allowed his mind distracted him from missing his wife enough to just through the day. In any case, the earthquake from last night frightened the residents of the compound with how close they were to winter. The days were getting shorter, and this meant that they needed to prepare for the harshness that would come for their crops, their families, and eventually their way of life. Multiple people came up to Druig to ask if last night’s earthquake was a sign of larger disaster brought by the gods. While he did his best to placate their concerns, the patience he had was wearing thin. Luckily Sephia managed to intercept their line of questioning before he would lose his temper, and he was able to take a short rest.

It wasn’t until he heard a familiar barking in the distance that immediately caught his attention. Dashing out the hut he shared with you, he saw Cerberus sitting on his hind legs as his little tail wagged in glee and the little taps echoed in his ears.

“Cerberus,” he exclaimed in joy as he gathered the black Doberman in his arms, “where have you been? Where’s your mum?”

At the mention of his Mum, Cerberus immediately began tugging on his Da’s dark blue robe. While it wasn’t enough to cause any tear or inspire any panic, it did tell the man enough information to know that something or someone was coming- and it would be best that Druig gave his entire attention over it. Following his wife’s hound over to commune’s outermost edge, he was only met with the familiar chirps and song of the forest. A few minutes passed by and Cerberus remained still, as if he were just waiting for something great.

Suddenly, the fine hairs across Druig’s body stood up straight as an overwhelming presence of otherworldly beings began to approach close to where he and Cerberus stood. Sensing that they were no longer alone, the hound starting howling to the moon that hung above them. Running toward the strange energy, Druig watched in awed rapture at the figure that stood front center with familiar designs that glowed gold down their arms, leading the army of apparitions with a singular torch. Recognizing the haunting designs, Druig was engulfed in frozen wonder at the army that you managed to summon, and the control and strain your body had to endure to stage such a feat.

When the two ancient lovers reached one another, with only pockets of space between their bodies, Druig launched himself to embrace his angel. Gladly reciprocating the act, you made sure that the torch you were holding remained in the air as you let yourself be enveloped in the security of your husband’s arms while taking in the sweet smell of his sweat.

“I should have known that little rumble was from you,” he whispered while laying small and frequent kisses across her neck, “nothin’ you do can ever be done halfway, can it?”

“Never,” she whispered back, “are you ready for my surprise?”

You stepped aside so that her husband could truly understood what you had done. Although Druig was initially upset by the loss of warmth that came from you leaving his embrace, he stopped and stared at the sight ahead of him.

Hundreds of thousands of specters that held a pearly blue glow that went as far out as his eyes could take him. But instead of fear, Druig felt…warm, and strangely…at peace. Taking a step closer, he slowly reached out his hand as a way to ask for permission. The nearest spirit was that of a child, going no higher than his knee, eagerly taking his hand before a wide smile overtook his face.

“Hello Mister Druig, it has been so long.”

Eyes wide in shock, Druig turned his head to stare at his wife in disbelief.

It couldn’t be…it shouldn’t be possible. Then again, you always took the label “impossible” as just a simple label.

As Druig turned back to stare at vision before him, familiar faces that he thought were forever gone flooded his sight.

Before him were all the souls that were lost so young at the fall of Tenochtitlan over 10 years ago.

You did this…you brought them all back. As his body failed to support him in shock, all Druig could do was openly weep in joy at the knowledge that his love- his wonderful, incredible, truly magnificent marvel of a woman- risked everything so that these people could have just the slightest chance of closure and peace.

Taking your husband’s frame in your arms, you softly turned him until he could face you.

“Do you think there might be some space in our home for our guests, my dearest?” You asked with bright eyes and youthful mirth as you knew full-well his answer.

Druig could only let out a wet laugh – his tears hadn’t stopped, but he never felt so at peace and happy for so long.

“Kaet my darling,” he started, “nothing would give me more pleasure.”

500 Years Later

‘The Procession of the Dead had been a tale that has been passed down by the many indigenous tribes located in the Amazonian Rainforest for over twenty generations. They say that the first procession began as an act of mercy from Mictecacihuatl, who was known as the “lady of the dead.” Legends state that it was Mictecacihuatl who summoned the spirits of tormented souls, and led them on a journey across the Amazon rainforest so that the souls may find fulfillment and peace in order to move on to the afterlife. The earliest record of the procession stated that the procession began with a ritual of a cursed city, followed by a powerful earthquake. But it was granted by the Guardians of the Forest, as the trees and rocks cleared the path in order to make the journey easier for the merciful goddess. Although there have been multiple cases of alleged sightings of the legend even now, many of the tribes that still reside in the forest celebrate October 31st as the day where the dead would find peace in the physical world, before finally finding peace in their next life. It is for that reason that multiple towns in countries of South America will build a straw monument of Mictecacihuatl holding a burning torch, so that the spirits of the lost was make the journey for peace.’

A small boy with large aquamarine eyes and patiently sat in front of a large easel in his art room, gleefully listening to his favorite educational podcast. He loved to listen to the origins of how his birthday started out, even if he wasn’t there when it started.

“Hamish,” he heard his Da call out, “you wanna get ready so that we can make it to your Tio Phastos’ house in Chicago to meet with everyone! It’s rude for the birthday boy to arrive last!”

Making the finishing touches to the canvas, Hamish silently grabbed his Mimikyu costume from his bedpost before racing down the stairs. He couldn’t wait to show his Mami his painting when they got back tomorrow, she was going to love it!

I hope you enjoyed reading this fic! Please drop a like if you did enjoy it, and also a reblog or comment if you look forward to reading more!

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