#AO3 2023 Unwrapped

[mischief-and-tea-by-the-sea]

@spicedrobot made a pretty nifty template that you can fill out yourself if you take it into a program that lets you type the information in the blanks.

It's really hard to pick a favorite fic, tbh. I had several, but She broke your throne, and she cut your hair (And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah) (Emma Frost/Tony Stark) doesn't have as much love to it as some of the others, and this was a real labor of love and made me feel really good while writing it.

Other favorites include:

There he was, like double cherry pie (Steve Rogers/Tony Stark)

A castaway where no one hears you on a barren isle in a lonely sea (Steve Rogers/Tony Stark)

Cupcakes and Gunfire (Scott Summers/Bucky Barnes)

The dirt that's on your knees (Loki/Justin Hammer)

Here comes the sun, and I say it’s alright (Tony Stark/Bucky Barnes)

sun is going down (sinking behind bridges in the road) (Eddie Munson/Steve Harrington)

To eat that burning heart out of his hand (Stephen Strange/Kaecilius)

@spicedrobot made a very nice template for Ao3 Wrapped and I filled it for myself! Hehe

<3

[drarryspecificrecsdaily]

2023.12.03

Complete fics posted on AO3 this day

1. Bought and Paid For by @jtimu [E, 10k]

►Harry runs his fingers across the bridge of his nose, pushing his glasses up to his forehead. “Are you telling me that you bid a thousand galleons for the pleasure of my company-” [...]

2. Dark Artistry by @sightedkarma [E, 26k]

►Draco Mallory liked his life after the war, in his little flat in Brighton, with his group of muggle friends and a career that let him put something beautiful out in the world. He'd left the Malfoy name and baggage behind years ago and created something new for himself to be proud of. That was until Harry Potter had to show up, covered in ink, and bring it all back.

3. dueling is their foreplay by tinaakitten [T, 2k]

►“Oh, sorry,” Harry teased. “Did I not tell you? We duel to submission, and I don’t recall saying I was done.” /// Auror partners Draco and Harry have a quick surprise duel in the training room.

4. Predicting the Present by @xx-thedarklord-xx [T, 7k]

►Malfoy—of all people—was the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, and Harry didn’t like it. He didn’t like it one bit. “Professor Malfoy said we’ll be learning the basics on how to cast a Patronus!” Oh really? That, Harry had to see.

5. scarves by @anticomedygarden [T, 1k]

►Harry and Draco have fun at a winter festival. That's it.

6. Tickling the Ivories by @annanother-thing [E, 5k]

►Harry has a misbehaving magical piano, a very pushy best friend, and a very unexpected afternoon. feat. Hermione doing what Hermione does best (sorting Harry's life out), Harry's vivid imagination, and Draco's green lacy knickers

---

Fest/Exchange

1. An accidental courtship by Anonymous [E, 6k]

►“The courtship starts with the offering of a single burgundy rose at exactly seven days before the winter solstice. The courtee may formally accept the continuation of the courtship – if they wish – by placing a single kiss on the flower.” ★ Harry/Draco Owlpost 2023 | @hdowlpost

2. A Christmas in Heat by Anonymous [E, 3k]

►Despite all odds, Harry and Draco become friends while working at the Ministry. Their friendship is very intense, and the need they have for each other takes them both by surprise. Then, one day, Harry begins to desire Draco in a way that frightens him. [...] ★ Harry/Draco Owlpost 2023 | @hdowlpost

3. Elf Affairs and Unwrapped Hearts by @picklesonjupiter [M, 1k]

►As Harry reluctantly takes on the role of a mall elf during the holiday season, he finds unexpected camaraderie with Malfoy, another elf, whose civil behavior surprises Harry. Working together, Harry discovers a side of Malfoy that intrigues him, leading to an unexpected invitation. ★ HP Yuletide Bliss 2023 | @hp-yuletide-bliss

4. The Pale Ferret Café by Anonymous [G, 3k]

►Harry's visits to Draco's café are a source of annoyance. Or are they? ★ Harry/Draco Owlpost 2023 | @hdowlpost

5. Thickets by Anonymous [E, 17k]

►When Draco returns to the UK after two decades of building his career as an internationally-renowned artist to look after his ailing, estranged father, he crosses paths with his former flame, Harry Potter, in the most unexpected way. ★ H/D Erised 2023 | @hd-erised

[canonicallyobserving911]

WIP Wednesday

Fanonwriter2023 on AO3

Where CANON and FANON collide!

This is an EPIC LOVE STORY!

Season 7 FANON Speculation: Buddie Multi-Chapter Fanfic - Hiatus Reading: “I’m still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!”

Chapter 21 available on AO3 and Chapter 22 will be posted soon.

Currently 21 chapters completed: 797.4K Words; Rated: Mature

One chapter will be posted at a time.

[Previous snippet from Several Sentences Sunday]

____________

I'm excited to finish writing Chapter 22 because there's less than one day remaining until Buck and Eddie get married.

For anyone who hasn't read Chapter 21, here's a brief overview: Buck and Eddie finalized everything before they left on Friday, December 15th. On December 10th, Buck agreed to meet with his biological father and the three of them will be present at the restaurant Edward selected. Buck still doesn't know Chris is going to ask him to adopt him on Christmas morning and neither Buck nor Chris knows anything about the gift Eddie bought to commemorate the special moment. Also, Eddie's planning several big surprises for Buck on their wedding day and for a week later when they arrive in London but Eddie doesn't know Chris and Buck are planning a surprise for him too. The three of them are speaking Italian more frequently and finally, Maddie, the 118 and Athena are still planning to throw them an engagement party because they don't know they're getting married which means New Year's Eve at Maddie's and Chimney's is going to be interesting 😉.

Buck and Eddie will tie the knot before Christmas 2023 but they are NOT getting married in the U.S. and they won't have a wedding ceremony until May 2024. They've revealed their relationship, their engagement and the fact that they're going to Europe to their found family during the 118's Thanksgiving dinner (Chapter 17), to Eddie's parents, his sisters, his abuela and Tia Pepa (Chapter 18) and Buck told the Buckley parents he's getting married and that he has a son (Chapter 19). Only three people know they're getting married and they are Chris, Carla and Malone. They told Carla and Malone (Chapter 19) because they asked them to be their witnesses at the Italian Consulate and they told Chris (Chapter 20) that evening after they got the "Atto Notorio" (Declaration) signed but no one else knows. In Chapter 21, Buck, Eddie and Chris arrived in Rome, Italy and they're preparing for the big day.

___________

Here's another romantically fluffy snippet from Chapter 22 of Eddie and Buck having a conversation while they're in their bedroom inside of their villa in Roma, Italia.

__________

It’s dark o’clock outside and they both know they should be sleeping but they’re awake and lying in bed simply gazing into each other’s eyes.  Their arms are wrapped around the other one’s waist, their legs are tangled together underneath the covers and even though their heads are lying on their own pillows, their faces are only millimeters apart.

After a few seconds of looking into those honey brown eyes he loves so much, Buck unwraps one of his arms from around Eddie’s waist, he lightly taps the bridge of his nose, smiles then says, “Piccola… you’re supposed to be sleeping.”

He chuckles and responds, “Amore mio, so are you”.

They laugh and after their laughter subsides, Buck’s smile brightens and he replies, “I’m too excited to sleep”.

“Me too.”

They stay there in the moment and allow the weight of their admissions to surround them.

Without breaking eye contact, Eddie unwraps one of his arms, he lifts his hand and lightly rubs his thumb over Buck’s bottom lip.

The response is immediate because Buck’s entire body shivers at the touch.  He’s not cold by any means because he set the thermostat and he knows the temperature inside of the villa is a balmy 75 degrees.  It’s Eddie’s touch that does it and he knows there’s no one else in this world that can make him feel the way Eddie can.

The feeling of his arms being around him, the taste of his lips being pressed against his, the roll of his tongue when they’re French kissing along with every other touch of his is now memorized and it’s indubitably imprinted on his brain.

Eddie Diaz is the love of his life; he always has been and he always will be.  They’re in love with each other and they're soulmates who share a love of their lives type of love that transcends both space and time.

They’ve been sharing emotional intimacy for more than six years; they’ve been sharing romantic intimacy for the past 3 months and 15 days but in a few hours, they’re going to experience physical intimacy for the first time on their wedding night and he’s been counting the number of days they had left for weeks.  Now he’s counting the hours and pretty soon he’ll be counting the minutes until he says, “I do” and becomes Mr. Evan Diaz.

Eddie noticed when his fiancé shivered, so he repeats the action and the response is instant.  When Buck shivers, he watches as his ocean blue eyes darken like he’s ready to be devoured and he knows in a little more than 19 hours, he’s going to give him everything he wants and needs.

Buck whispers, “Eddie... in exactly 12 hours, we’re getting married”.

“We are and guess what?”

Buck dreamily looks at his fiancé and whisper asks, “What?”

“I can’t wait for us to be husba...”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence because Buck closes the millimeters of space between them and kisses him with so much passion it causes them to tighten their arms around the other one.  It’s a long deep and slow kiss that’s filled with promises of everything that’s going to happen between them in a matter of hours.

They get lost in it and while they continue to lick and pant into each other’s mouths, Buck does the same thing he’s been doing for the last couple of weeks, he repositions them so Eddie’s on top of him.  Once he’s covering his whole body, he opens his legs and bends his knees but this time he also wraps his legs around Eddie’s waist and pushes his hips up to let him know how much he wants him.

He breaks the kiss then talks against his lips and exclaims with a whisper, “Fai l’amore con me!” [“I want you to make love to me”].

What's going to happen next? Will they give in and make love now or are they going to wait until after their ceremony? 👀🤷🏽‍♀️

___________

This is an EPIC LOVE STORY!

Fic Summary: Months after Buck and Eddie were hit by the same lightning strike; they’re still struggling with the aftermath of it.  But before they make their love confessions, they’ll spend time getting to know themselves as individuals first. Eddie learns to enjoy the simple things in life as he participates in activities on his own and with new friends while Buck learns the rest of the 31-year-old deep dark family secret about his conception and birth. Their journey to forever is still a work in progress but once they finally admit they’re in love with each other, everything that follows their love confessions will be cataclysmic.

__________

Chapter Summaries

Chapter 1 - Eddie makes a new friend while Buck receives devastating news regarding the sperm donation he made for Connor and Kameron.

Chapter 2 - Buck does a lot of research to learn more about the abnormalities found in his red blood cells and Eddie starts a new therapy journey that’s all about him and not the traumas he’s experienced.

Chapter 3 - After more than a month, Buck and Eddie finally spend time together outside of work but it doesn’t end well and they part with a lot of uncertainty regarding their places in each other’s lives.

Chapter 4 - Eddie has a few realizations about his life which causes him to consider moving back to El Paso, TX while Buck continues to be reminded of his past which causes him to take an impromptu road trip across America.

Chapter 5 - Both Buck and Eddie have difficult conversations with their parents and Buck finally learns the truth behind the reason why his mother despised him while Eddie finally tells his mother about the way she tries to control him.

Chapter 6 - More than two weeks after Buck pushed Eddie away after suggesting they needed a break; Eddie decides to try again. Eddie’s there for Buck when he’s at his worst just like Buck was there for him when he was at his worst and he won’t let Buck give up.

Chapter 7 - After Buck’s mental breakdown, Eddie has his back the same way Buck had his when he had his own breakdown more than a year ago.  They share several vulnerable and emotionally intimate moments with one another and they begin to realize their small, sweet and caring gestures matter just as much if not more than any grand gesture ever could because these are the foundations of a long-lasting love relationship.

Chapter 8 - Buck, Eddie and Chris all have their own therapists and during their sessions, they reflect on their pasts while they’re in the present so they can prepare for their future together as a family.

Chapter 9 - Buck and Eddie are there for each other when Buck has to testify as a witness during the trial.  But by the end of it, they’ll both realize their individual and shared traumas are going to keep resurfacing until they talk about them, deal with the fact that they’re in love with one another and face the fact that they can’t live without each other.

Chapter 10 - As Buck and Eddie finally begin to confront their past traumas, they realize how much they need each other to fill in the gaps of their memories.  Additionally, the universe screams at them for what appears to be the one hundredth time so Buck can realize he doesn’t have to ‘find it’ because he already ‘made it’ and Eddie’s reminded tomorrow isn’t promised and he doesn’t have to die alone if he doesn’t want to.

Chapter 11 - A “virga” or dry thunderstorm is in the forecast but once the rain starts, the thunderstorm happening outside won’t be able to match the storm brewing inside between Buck and Eddie.  It’s the universe’s final scream and when the tumultuous winds begin to blow, they’ll have one last chance to hold onto everything they’ve built over the last six years or they’ll lose it all forever.

Chapter 12 - Buck and Eddie have always shared a deep physical attraction and an emotional intimacy that’s unmatched but now that they’re in a relationship, they’re learning how to navigate the romantic intimacy they’ve been waiting for six years to explore. The love they have for each other is a once in a lifetime, soulmate, love of their lives type of love that transcends space and time.

Chapter 13 - While navigating the newness of their romantic relationship, Buck and Eddie take advantage of every moment they spend together. As their individual lives, people from their pasts, time constraints and the possibility of losing each other again make attempts to interrupt and interfere with their journey to forever, they love, care for, support and hold onto each other even tighter to withstand it all.

Chapter 14 - Buck and Eddie can see the lights at the end of the tunnels regarding the results of Buck’s Cancer Screening along with everything else they’re dealing with. But are the lights they see exits to the tunnels or are they headlights on different runaway trains that are speeding towards them in an effort to interrupt their forever?

Chapter 15 - Buck and Eddie have known they were exactly who the other one wanted in a partner since they met six years ago when they agreed to have each other’s backs. They’re in a romantic relationship, they’re both preparing to ask the other one to spend forever with them and by the end of the seventh week into their relationship, together they will plan their most important and greatest adventure for their future.

Chapter 16 - As Buck and Eddie begin to prepare for their marriage ceremony that will take place in Rome, Italy in December 2023, they start planning their first international adventure as a romantic couple. Even though Chris is still the only person they’ve told about their relationship, several people who know them have already witnessed the love they share and as the days continue, others will witness it too.

Chapter 17 - As Buck and Eddie get closer to departing Los Angeles for their international adventure, a moment in time will remind them; life is fragile, tomorrow isn’t promised and every second of everyday should be cherished because everything can change in an instant. The result of that realization will cause them to hold onto each other even more.

Chapter 18 - As Buck, Eddie and Chris prepare for family gatherings before and during the Thanksgiving holiday, the “Santa Ana Winds” start to blow and all sorts of expected and unexpected familial drama ensues.

Chapter 19 - As Buck and Eddie get closer to their wedding day, the universe begins to align everything so that some of their parent and children's relationships are strengthened while others come to an abrupt end.

Chapter 20 - With only 14 days remaining until Buck, Eddie and Chris depart Los Angeles, CA traveling to Rome, Italy, for their first family adventure, an early morning conversation about “tying up loose ends” helps Buck and Eddie realize there are still several things left unfinished on their ‘To Do’ lists. The question is will there be enough time to complete all of them?

Chapter 21 - Buck, Eddie and Chris are finalizing their ‘To Do’ Lists, double checking their itineraries and packing their suitcases in preparation for their trip to Europe so they can board their flight that departs Los Angeles, CA on Friday, December 15, 2023 at 3:25PM.

Chapter 22 - Will be posted soon.

__________

Read chapters 1-21 are available on AO3.

Continue reading on AO3

[whumpmas]

12 Days of Whumpmas Prompt List

Please make sure to read the Event Info carefully, as most of your questions will be answered there already.

The AO3 Collection can be found here.

There are 24 prompt options and 30 tropes in total! Pick one or both for each day and combine with any trope. Interpretation can be specific or very loose.

(All prompts and tropes can be found below the cut!)

12 Days of Whumpmas 2023 Prompt List

Day 1: Christmas lights / Christmas Card

Day 2: hot chocolate / white

Day 3: mistletoe / wish

Day 4: at the mall / Santa

Day 5: red / Christmas tree

Day 6: present / sugar cookie

Day 7: snow / fireplace

Day 8: candles / family tradition

Day 9: Christmas carols / bow

Day 10: unwrapped / icicle

Day 11: Christmas dinner / bell

Day 12: midnight mass / Cheers!

Tropes list:

Exposure

Bruises

Force feeding

Duct tape

Forced to beg

Gilded cage

Touch starved

Kidnapping

Prison visit

Caught in a storm

Burns

Domestic abuse

Bound and gagged

Damaged vocal cords

Stockholm syndrome

Forced to kneel/bow

Poison

Used in ritual

Childhood trauma

Denied food as punishment

Truth serum

Pneumonia

Don't let them see you cry

Drugged

Alternative (milder) prompts:

Can't go home

Flashbacks

Cough syrup

Hallucinations

Memory loss

Nightmares

[deaddovedec]

𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐃𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

Hello and welcome to Dead Dove December 2023! We are a dark holiday-themed Bucky Barnes event. Below, you will find the prompts for each day of December, along with alternate options. This is a no-pressure, for-fun event that offers over 50 prompts to fulfill your dark needs during the holiday season. Please be aware that the prompts on this list contain dark and potentially disturbing themes and may not be suitable for all audiences.

Ao3 Collection

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

Day 1: "Stocking" Stalking / Trapped

Day 2: Heartwarming / Hidden

Day 3: Ice Skating (Screaming) / Nutcracker / Home

Day 4: Curse / Captivity

Day 5: Jolly / Jugular

Day 6: Blood in The Snow / No Strings Attached

Day 7: Giving Back / First Night / Tis The Season

Day 8: Mistletoe Madness / Stree Free ( Stress Position)

Day 9: Naughty or Nice (Knot or Nice) / Merry

Day 10: Cold as Ice / Secret Surprise

Day 11: Unexpected Gift (Alt: Best/Worst) / Lost

Day 12: Candy Cane / Candlelight / "The Light Goes Out."

Day 13: Tortured / Yule Ritual / The Shadow of the Menorah / FREE DAY

Day 14: Chopping / Silent Night, Lonely Night

Day 15: Wonderland / Snowflakes

Day 16: Tinsel Bondage (Tied) / Strangulation

Day 17: Christmas Lights / Pretty as bulb, aren’t you? My own special little ornament (Christmas Angel).”

Day 18: Forced Celebration / Feast / Fever

Day 19: Twisted Traditions / Train Tracks/ Hanging From the Tree

Day 20: Krumpus / Monster Fucking

Day 21: A Broken Ornament / Winter Solstice / FREE DAY

Day 22: Buried in Bows / Tangled Ribbons

Day 23: What Fun It Is / Holiday Haunting / Horse Drawn

Day 24: The Nightmare Before Christmas / Last Wish

Day 25: All I Want is You / Unwrapping / Presents “Presence”

Day 26: Chains / Cheers / Cannibalism

Day 27: Dark Encounter / Stitches

Day 28: Something Red / Tears

Day 29: Robbed (of senses) / Stockholm Syndrome

Day 30: Masked / Masquerade / Spiked / FREE DAY

Day 31: It’s a New Year, (Again)- Memory Loss / Forgotten

𝐀𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

Deprived

Search & Rescue

Building a (snow) man

Aches & Angels

"Stay with me."

The gift of gunpoint

Chimney

"He sees you when you're sleeping; he knows when you're awake."

Ao3 Collection ❆ Event Information ❆

Don’t forget to tag us for reblog or add your work to the Ao3 collection! Tag properly and destroy those doves 🕊️

Divider credit ❆ @rookthornesartistry

[nap-hime]

@helsaweenfun

Title: it became a nemesis

Fandom: Frozen

Genre: Supernatural, Angst, and Hurt & Comfort

Event: Helsaween 2023 (Discord / Tumblr)

AU: Week 4 — Monster, part 2

Chapters: 5/6

Word count: 3.5K

Summary: Then, upon unwrapping the silks and fabrics, and peering inside, Elsa is instantly greeted by a beautiful hand mirror; decorated with stainless silver framing, and intricate rose carvings and wrapping vines detailing crawling up the handle.

“How handsome,”

— HansElsa, Snow Queen AU & Evil Mirror AU

Chapter 5/6 link: (ao3)

[sweetcandyholic]

Black inky tendrils of the void creature lunged through. Grabbing at everything. Trying to pull the blaster from his Mom’s hand. Twisting round the banister of the stairs. He struggled kicking at the knot. He had to get loose so they could close the mirror before it escaped. Before it pulled anyone else in. Danny charged ecto in his hand. Blasting at the knot while his parents were distracted. The creature recoiled unwrapping from round his leg. Danny fell to the ground managing an awkward landing. He jumped up and straight into a run.

cover art for @maskedemerald 's fic Mirror, Mirror! ive been wanting to do a episode cover-type drawing for invisobang for the last two years and finally had a good opportunity this time to do it with danny getting chased through the mirror void

happy @invisobang 2023~

Mirror, Mirror :: [ ao3 ]

[wowbright]

Fic: Recommend

Fandom/pairing: Glee, Kurt/Blaine

Event: December Klaine Fanworks Challenge 2023

Words: ~1500 words                                         

Rating: Teen and up

Summary: Although Kurt's faith has changed, he still manages to get his temple recommend renewed.

Notes: This is part of my Mormon!Klaine universe. It takes place after Out of Eden, which I am still in the process of posting to AO3. It’s among the possibilities for their future. Mormonsplaining and mild warnings in tags.

* * *

Kurt and his parents had always planned for him to do Finn's temple work when he got back from his mission. It had seemed the right thing at the time, a fitting way to honor the two young men’s brotherhood and make it even more real.

They hadn't seen its one glaring flaw: they were all assuming Kurt would return from Germany with the same faith he'd taken with him when he’d left.

“I'm not sure I'm going to be able to get my temple recommend renewed when I get back,” Elder St. James said to Kurt on their Lufthansa flight to New York. He was on his third Milka mini chocolate bar snatched from the candy buffet near the bathrooms on the lower deck, and Kurt was on his fourth.

“Why?” Kurt said. “Gluttony’s not against the Word of Wisdom. Besides, if chocolate and cookies are all they're going to offer us between meals and we're growing young men, we kind of have no choice. Besides, that breakfast was hardly a breakfast.”

“European breakfasts never are,” agreed Elder St. James. “But it's not the Word of Wisdom I'm concerned about. It's that question about sustaining all the leaders. I'm not sure I can answer ‘yes’ to that in good conscience. I mean, I voted to sustain them at the last general conference, but since my vote doesn’t actually mean anything since they just ignore the abstentions and opposition votes, am I actually sustaining them?”

“You pray for them, don't you?”

“Of course.”

“Well, I think that's what sustaining means—offering sustenance. With a child, that would mean giving them food and clothing and shelter and support and love. The leaders don't need those first three things from us, but they do need our support and love. And we show that by respecting them and praying for them.”

“Huh.” Elder St. James opened a fourth chocolate bar and took a thoughtful bite. “I suppose that works. I mean, it's not my fault that I can't actually sustain them in the vote sense, and the temple questions are supposed to be about things that are within our own control, so … Thanks, Elder Hummel. That helps.”

Kurt unwrapped his fifth chocolate. But before he could break off a piece, he started wondering if he was eating his feelings, trying not to think about what was actually happening, how he was currently vaulting through the sky at hundreds of miles an hour, every second pulling him farther and farther away from Blaine and closer to a future that he couldn't envision. Hmmm. Maybe he should eat his feelings. It was better than thinking about that. Besides, he felt nowhere near full.

“Do you have any worries?” Elder St. James said.

Kurt had so many worries, he didn't know where to start. Maybe he could mention how he didn't actually understand how planes stayed in the air and it was rather disconcerting to be hovering over the Arctic when he could easily imagine the plane just dropping out of the sky and plunging them into the icy water to their untimely deaths, and while he didn't fear for his own salvation, he did rather like this life they were currently living and also, it would be terrible for his parents to lose two sons in so many years. But before Kurt could think about whether this was an appropriate response, Elder St. James clarified, “About your temple recommend questions?”

Kurt gave his one-time companion a sharp look. “What's that supposed to mean?” The recommend questions included one about the law of chastity, and while Kurt knew he had done nothing wrong, it would be better if rumors didn’t spread. Blaine was still inside the mission.

“Nothing in particular.” The vacant look behind elder St. James's eyes seemed to confirm his sincerity. “I mean, you’re such a Peter Priesthood I figured you wouldn't have trouble with any of them. But maybe I was hoping, just a little, that you were in the same boat as me.”

“What boat is that?” Kurt asked.

Elder St. James popped the rest of his chocolate bar into his mouth and chewed it slowly. He didn't speak again until he had swallowed it all. “I don't know. Not as excited about all this church stuff as I was when we were on the plane out here? I mean, I don't even know if I want to go to the temple again.”

"Well, the temple is –" Kurt looked over your shoulder to make sure no one was listening. He had, perhaps, become a little too used to speaking about the temple freely with Blaine. “–it's a lot different from every day worship. And the sessions are long. But I want to go back. I have work to do for my stepbrother.”

The necessity of that work, Kurt’s obligation to his family—they had nagged at Kurt as he’d weighed the risks of becoming physically intimate with Blaine. It had felt like another unfairness imposed on him by the church, forced to choose between loyalty to the family he came from and commitment to the family he was discovering in Blaine.

But as time passed and Kurt got closer to leaving Germany, denying the gift Blaine was offering him had begun to feel like a sin bigger than any lie Kurt might tell the bishop. And he had discovered just how true that was when they finally slept together: being intimate with Blaine, Kurt had felt for the first time what it must have been like to be one of those legendary first humans, before sin and pain existed, when they felt no shame in their nakedness or the bodies that had been gifted them. Their love was sinless because it grew from that same place without sin.

So it was with a clean conscience, upon returning to Ohio, that Kurt answered yes to his bishop’s question of Do you obey the law of chastity? Kurt’s actions with Blaine had been authentically chaste—reserved for one’s spouse, pure in conduct and intention, free of coercion, seeing the full humanity of the other person and loving them for it. Blaine was his other half in the truest sense, regardless of whether the church or the law recognized it.

Nor did Kurt have any qualms about professing his testimony in God the creator or in Jesus Christ or the restoration of the gospel—his faith in these things was even deeper than before he left on his mission, though in a way he would never have expected.

Even Do you support, affiliate with, or agree with any group or individual whose teachings or practices are contrary to or oppose those accepted by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints? was easy to answer the right way, because the only teachings “accepted by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints” were those that had come before the general conference for a vote of common consent. The Proclamation on the Family wasn't one of those things. And besides, he was pretty sure the question was mainly meant to root out polygamists.

Do you keep the covenants that you made in the temple? and Do you strive to keep the covenants you have made, to attend your sacrament and other meetings, and to keep your life in harmony with the laws and commandments of the gospel? were harder. Kurt wasn't even sure he remembered all the covenants he had made in the temple. But the ones he remembered, and the ones he had honestly agreed to, with full understanding—he strove to keep those. As for keeping his life in harmony with the laws and commandments of the gospel, he was more committed to doing that than he’d ever been, even if his understanding of “the gospel” was probably different than his bishop’s.

“Have there been any sins or misdeeds in your life that should have been resolved with priesthood authorities but have not been?” the bishop asked.

“No,” Kurt answered.

“And finally,” the bishop said, “do you consider yourself worthy to enter the Lord’s house and participate in temple ordinances?”

No more or less than any other of God’s children, Kurt thought to say, but he knew it wasn't the answer the bishop was looking for and would only confuse him. “Yes,” Kurt said.

The bishop signed the recommend and sent Kurt on his way with a smile and a handshake and, “Now, don’t spend all your time at the temple. Your first priority now that you've gotten back from your mission is to find a wife.”

“Thanks for the advice," said Kurt, trying to accept it in the same well-meaning spirit it was given.

Then it was rinse and repeat with the stake president, and Kurt had his recommend. Alone in the car, he turned the card over in his hand, staring at the movement of light over its barcode and lettering. “Finn,” he said, “I hope you’re ready for this.”

[smilingformoney]

Rickmas 2023: Day 16. Keep Warm | Turpin/Reader

AN: You know the drill by now: based on Sins of the Flesh, lots of manipulation going on here. This is during their marriage so she’s deep in Stockholm Syndrome. Don’t eat dead inside and all that.

Read now on Ao3 or below the cut:

You lay in bed, shivering, wrapped up in as much of the duvet as you could pull around yourself. It was winter, almost Christmas in fact, and you were pregnant with your first child, who was so small inside you the bump was hardly there, but you could feel him move sometimes, reminding you he was there, still growing.

The bedroom door flung open and your husband almost filled the doorframe with his large stature and the thick coat he was wearing.

“What is this I hear about you being cold?” he snapped.

“It’s freezing!” you complained, holding the duvet around you tighter.

“Well, you’ve only got one blanket, of course you’re cold!”

Turpin shook the snow from his coat and began unbuttoning it, slightly clumsily with his hands still gloved. As soon as he was free from the shackles of the coat, he tossed it aside along with his jacket, then pulled off his gloves.

“If you were cold, you should have asked the staff for more blankets. That’s what they’re there for. I don’t want you freezing to death before our child is even born.”

“Sorry, sir,” you said, shrinking into the blankets even more than you already were. “Maybe you could keep me warm?” you suggested meekly.

With the way you were peering out at him from underneath the duvet, which was now pulled up to cover your nose, you were far too adorable for him to stay angry at.

“Silly girl,” he sighed. You unwrapped yourself slightly from the duvet, just enough to give him room to join you. He slipped under the duvet, still fully dressed, and you eagerly scooted over to him, sighing with relief as body heat radiated from him.

“You just came in, how are you so warm?”

“I am a hot-blooded man. It takes more than a little snow to freeze me over, especially when I have my little bunny waiting for me at home.”

You smiled bashfully when he called you his nickname.

“Bunny’s too cold to do much bouncing right now,” you replied. “But maybe teddy bear can warm her up?”

You looked up at him, eyes wide, and he smirked, a familiar flame sparking in his eyes.

“What are you asking for, darling?”

You tucked your chin slightly, still embarrassed to ask for what you wanted, but Turpin pushed your chin up to force you to look at him.

“Tell me,” he said softly.

“Well - maybe - maybe you could just lie on top of me? You can fuck me if you want, but I really just want your weight on me.”

“Mmm, how could I resist such a request from my darling wife?” Turpin purred. He manoeuvred himself to take his waistcoat and cravat off, leaving only the undershirt, and rolled on top of you, being careful not to put too much weight on your stomach. You felt the fabric of his trousers against your legs and giggled.

“Sir, I think this is the longest you’ve been in bed with your trousers on.”

“Mind yourself, slut,” he growled, gently rolling his hips to push his cock against your cunt, and even through both of your clothes you could feel how large it was, even only half-erect. “I need only unbutton these trousers and lift that skirt, and I can be inside you in seconds. You’re not so cold you put knickers on, I hope.”

“Of course not, sir.”

“Good girl.”

You bit your lip, and he smirked, knowing how much you loved it when he praised you.

“Do you know how fucking perfect you are, darling?” Turpin said in hushed tones with something of reverence in his voice. “I’ll keep you warm all winter if you wish me to. We’ll spend Christmas and New Year in this bed, just you and me, fucking and cuddling and sleeping. The servants will bring us food and drink so we don’t have to get out of bed. You’ll never be cold again, my love.”

You let out a small whine, wondering how you could have ever been cold before, as every nerve in your body was on fire, desperate for your husband’s warmth, his love, his desire. His adoration filled you up, warming your very soul from within. He was all you and your unborn baby needed.

You reached between your sandwiched bodies to tug at the fabric on his hips, and he chuckled.

“Are you trying to make me cold, bunny?”

“Want to warm your cock,” you mumbled. “Please, sir, please - need you…”

“Ah, and who am I to deny my pregnant wife her desires? Skirt up, darling.”

He separated his body from yours briefly, causing you to feel a great loss as his weight left you, but as soon as he unbuttoned his trousers and pulled them down to release his cock from within, he was on top of you again, guiding himself inside you.

“Ohh, yes, that’s it - such a warm cunt. Such a good wife, keeping your husband’s cock warm on these cold winter evenings. Let us stay here for this evening, darling. Let the servants serve dinner to us in bed. I have no obligations tonight, do you?”

“Yes, sir.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And what obligation is that?”

“To serve you, of course, sir.”

“Oh, very clever answer, darling,” Turpin grinned, and you whined when he thrusted inside you suddenly. “Yes, yes, you’ll serve me… that’s your duty as my wife, of course. One you perform so well, so eagerly. I am so very fortunate to have the most dutiful wife in all of London.”

Another thrust, and another whine from you, accompanied by a grunt from him.

“Ohh, yes… my darling wife is so very dutiful to her lord husband, giving me an heir and keeping me warm. Loving me so… very… keenly.” He thrust again, you whined again, and he grunted again. You had asked only for him to keep you warm, but of course he couldn’t resist making love to you once he was inside you, his libido and his desire for you being so very strong. His thrusts were slow, languid, nothing of the usual fast pace he liked to employ. It drove you insane when he was slow, drawing out your pleasure as he dragged his cock along your channel, and he knew perfectly well what he was doing to you.

“Is this what you wanted, bunny? Am I keeping you sufficiently warm?”

“Yes,” you said with a breathy sigh, your arms wrapped around his torso to hold him close. “You’re so good to me, sir, such a loving husband…”

“Mmm… yes, I am such a good husband to you, bunny. I’m so glad you appreciate what I do for you.”

“I do appreciate it, sir… thank you…”

“You’re most welcome, darling. Now, I’m going to use my fingers and I want you to cum all over my cock. You can do that for me, can’t you, darling?”

“Yes!” you begged, the desperation clear in your voice. “Yes, sir, I can cum for you… please, please touch me…”

“As you wish.”

He reached between your bodies, his thumb pressing up against your sweet spot, and you were so aroused by his gentle yet intense lovemaking that you came in less than a minute, your walls squeezing tightly around him just as he wanted. Turpin watched, entranced, as pleasure spread across your face, and as your moans melted away, he began to fuck you harder, faster, desperately chasing his own high, and the sudden change of pace caused another orgasm to crash over you just as he came inside you, warming you up from the inside as his seed coated your core.

“Thank you, sir,” you panted, breathless. “Thank you for keeping me warm.”

Turpin chuckled with satisfaction, his body still pressed against yours, making no move to extract himself from the warm sleeve he was nestled in.

“Any time, darling. Any time.”

[yeehawpurgatory]

Knots & Peculiarity

Apologies for the late post! Posted earlier to AO3--But I finally got to my desktop so Tumblr it is! @rdrevents​

Here is my 2023 RDR Valentine Fanfic Exchange for the awesome @southernlynxx once again I hope you enjoy, I loved all of your prompts; especially John using Arthur’s lap as a pillow :’)))

Title:  Knots & Peculiarity

Pairing: John x Arthur

Summary:  

 “Arthur…you really there?” This time it’s louder than a whisper, ghosting over his lips. ”Right here Marston, lie back now.” Arthur mutters quietly, he hoped they hadn’t garnered any attention. His eyes widen when Marston raises a trembling hand; Arthur holds his breath. The younger man’s palm pressed against Arthur’s chest for too many seconds. Just a solid, seeking touch is all it is.

The silence in the cabin nearly made him forget about all the other occupants. Only the occasional sniffle and shuffling, the sound of a cigarette’s light hissing as it burns, reminds Arthur he’s in the main cabin with the women and the others.

The past few days he’d made himself sparse, not on purpose though, between hunting most days and planning that train robbery with Dutch, he hadn’t much time to check on folks the way he liked. People hadn’t seen much of him for a few days. That’s probably what made him a jarring sight now, standing with mist-clouded eyes in front of another good man they’d nearly lost.

Arthur takes his gloves off as he hovers closely to the cot.

There’s another sound, quiet, nearly missable. The laboured, ragged breaths of his longest friend, injured and shaking, barely conscious through it all. They’d found Marston just days ago, bleeding, starving, nearly dead up in the mountains. Laying on the cot, chewed up and spat out, the younger man looked pitiful with half his face bandaged; the showing skin was painfully raised and colourfully splotched. A gory sight before, but little Johnny Marston looked downright bad now.

Worse than Jenny’s corpse had looked when he’d helped Lenny and Karen bury her, the youngest hands shaking the entire time. He looked worse than Davy too, and he’d all but held his own guts inside his body, the poor bastard.

Arthur bit his chapped lips and brushed a few greasy, tangled locks of black hair away from Marston’s mouth. The younger man’s unwrapped eye flickered beneath his closed lid, otherwise he didn’t react to the touch. Swanson must’ve seen to him earlier.  

Arthur’s compelled to this spot in this cramped cabin for reasons he can’t quite explain, like an unseen force dragged him here and kept him staring stupidly. Waiting for something or another.

His bare hand rests just above Marston’s head.

It’s Susan that snaps him out of his stupor. The older woman had just been sitting on the stool, picking at Marston’s stitches with Strauss; pained sounds leaving the injured man’s lips the entire time.

“Mr Morgan.” Her tone is firm, but her eyes were softer with him than with most others. He grunts his acknowledgement to her.

Arthur feels Grimshaw’s eyes burning a hole through him, as though his leisurely presence was unacceptable to her. He half expects her to tell him to git. To go make himself useful. To go find some food or firewood.

She doesn’t.

Instead Susan stoops low, rummaging through a meagre box of the camp's belongings. She pushes aside a sewing kit and spools of thread, some scraps of fabric, a bottle of medicine; she pulls out a simple black comb with a few teeth missing.

Susan glances at him again, a different look in her eyes this time, and Arthur is brave enough to look her in the face with his own clouded pair of eyes.

“Might as well do some work if you’re set on standing around.” Her tone conveys no nonsense, a harsh barking command. She presses the comb into his hand. “Been tempted to cut that mangled mop from his head—I would’ve if I didn’t think he’d wake up kicking and screaming like last time.”

Like last time. Arthur huffs, his lips twinge upward in amusement, thinking of the last time someone had tried to cut Johnny’s hair without expressed permission.

When he doesn’t move Susan’s face falls slightly. He can’t look at her suddenly, throat too constricted and stomach churning. “He don’t like many folk handling  him.”

Unless it’s you. She didn’t say that—but she didn’t need to. It weren’t no kind of secret between the folks who’d been with them since the beginning. The boys are— were inseparable, would still be if not for Marston’s big mistake.

The big mean bastard he is, Arthur thinks there ought to be a nasty part of him which takes satisfaction in seeing the fool broken and pathetic and needing someone for the littlest task, but there isn’t. That’s the thing that confuses him the most. He’s not enjoying watching John fight for his life while he thinks on the past, not one bit, never mind how much he thought he would. All he feels is loneliness somehow, a need to stay by Marston’s side for reasons beyond him.

Arthur sits on the stool. He breathes long and deep, clearing his throat. He blinks away mist to see Marston clearly. The hand atop the greasy mop just sits there for a few seconds.

This is intimate. In spite of the crowd, of the  audience , brushing Marston’s hair feels like something he should be doing behind closed doors. He can’t understand why. Even when his heart starts to flutter.

Still, Arthur’s fingers card through the cold greasy locks. True to Susan’s word it’s a tangled mess better suited for a pair of shears; but then they’d have to deal with Marston’s peculiar anger. Arthur didn’t get it, why grow your hair if you hate washing and brushing it?

Still, Arthur picked at a tangled chunk of hair with the comb, careful of the brittle teeth. He pauses when Marston moaned quietly, as Arthur moved to his scalp. The vulnerability in this moment makes his stomach uneasy. This is a man he’s felt nothing but animosity towards for a few years now, and here Arthur was, carefully brushing his hair, while he lingers in the precarious spot between life and death.

He couldn’t get all of it with the bumps and bandages covering Marston, but Arthur carefully worked the comb through as best he could till his fingers could card through Marston’s hair without getting snagged on too many knots.

---

Arthur lessens the gap between them, hunching over Marston when a particularly nasty gust of air enters the cabin and makes him shiver.  Damn cold…Damn drafty cabin…Damn soft wet wood…

Another heavy gust finally wakes the other man. One dazed dark, blood filled eye looks up at Arthur without an ounce of recognition; he knows what a man looks like when he’s dazed from drugs or fever. This is it. The look of his eye makes Arthur shiver. John shifts around, muttering nonsensical ramblings.

“Careful now Marston.” If he doesn’t sit still he’ll hurt himself—already seems to be in pain by the sounds he makes. The younger man grimaced, teeth clenching together as he willed himself upright.

“What'do you need?” Arthur mutters and slips an arm around his back to hold him upright. Marston’s real close to him now, but that pesky fool won’t stop wriggling around.

“Morgan?…”

John’s voice stills him. His name is said in a cracked whisper, far too quiet for others to hear, but loud enough for Arthur to hear the peculiarity in his tone. Like Marston was surprised to see him here. That hurt.

“Morgan…” he trails off again, this time squinting up at the older man. Unseeing eye tracing over Arthur’s worn features, peering  inside him, yet seeing nothing though he still searches. Cold as it were, Arthur feels himself heat up under the scrutiny. It makes him want to shove off and leave, to chastise himself for seeking company, from Marston of all folk. Then he speaks again.

“Arthur…you really there?” This time it’s louder than a whisper, ghosting over his lips.

“Right here Marston, lie back now.” Arthur mutters quietly, he hoped they hadn’t garnered any attention. His eyes widen when Marston raises a trembling hand; Arthur holds his breath. The younger man’s palm pressed against Arthur’s chest for too many seconds. Just a solid, seeking touch is all it is.

He huffs just then, making little frustrated noises as he eases his way back down, clearly deciding whatever he attempted rising for weren’t nothing important. His hand leaves Arthur’s chest, and the older man can finally breathe.

“Stop movin’ around…M-Marston!?”

A weight fell across his lap. Arthur blinked.

Half asleep, half drugged, half whatever—Marston had dragged himself across Arthur’s lap. If folk weren’t looking before, they sure as hell were looking now.

Arthur’s hand hovered just over John’s head. Marston laid awkwardly, with his lower body stretched out onto the cot, his upper body resting on Arthur.  He suddenly didn’t know what to do with his hands; he let one rest gently atop John’s. Arthur swore then. Marston’s hands were icey. He slips his discarded gloves over them without thinking.

Arthur fixes the blanket over Marston’s form when the younger man turns his head in his lap again. He sighs and Goddamn nuzzles his nose against Arthur’s leg.

The display heats up his cheeks—makes his heart race. John hasn’t accepted any semblance of closeness with anyone these last few years, much less Arthur. Gone were the days where they slept back to back, where they embraced each other with bear hugs and delightful shouts and pats on the backs.

He’s got half a mind to shove the other man off him and walk right out. Damn him. Instead, Arthur resumes his task with a pounding heart when Marston’s breathing evens out. Methodically, he brushes the rest of Marston’s hair until it falls straight and loose. Oily beyond belief, but cleaner looking than it had been in weeks.

Then he sits there and pockets the comb, his silly little task is done. He should get up. Do some actual work, not just sit here pondering.

Marston shivers again. Arthur stays seated. He’s stuck in place, unless he wants to dump Marston back onto the uncomfortable looking cot to shiver with his threadbare blanket. His head tells him as much, but his body won’t do it.

Goddamnit!  He can’t do it, Arthur’s rooted to the spot as though Marston weighs a tonne, with his head pillowed in his lap. It’d be downright cruel to shove him away, as sorry as his state is.

Arthur tries his best to ignore the familiar warmth and conflicting fondness which filled him the longer he sat there, watching John sleep soundly in his care.

Behind him, folks start talking softly.

---

“It’s awful kind of you, letting him do that again.”

Arthur nearly jumps at the voice which caught him off guard. It’s Hosea. Of course it is. Who else could sneak up on him like that? His old friend has a glimmer in his eye, one Arthur stopped trying to guess the reason behind a long time ago. A special type of fondness he reserved for only a select few; Arthur, John, Bessie long ago, Tilly, Lenny, little Jack Marston…

“Sure, I’m real kind when I have to be.”

Hosea ignored his retort. He looked off to the side wearing an expression Arthur can’t read, an expression he shares with Susan, who stood by the fireplace. He catches her face however; it’s soft. Understanding. Knowing. When her gaze shifts from Hosea to him, Arthur drops his head. He looks only at Marston. At his sleeping form pillowed on Arthur’s thighs.

As precarious as his injuries are, the man curls up in a way that can’t be comfortable, never mind the relaxed expression on his face; he looks a lot like Jack in Abigail’s lap, or like how Copper used to curl up in his. Arthur chuckles and thinks to himself. Marston ain’t a cute kid like Jack, his company isn’t as enjoyable as a dogs neither.

The thing is…Marston is annoying and lazy, and stupid and entitled. They’ve been competing with each other for too damn long. But…he’s dear to Arthur. Oh so dear. Oh so dumb and useless too …but he’ll always have an incredible, inexplicable love for John. For the boy he was and the man he is today. One he doesn’t quite understand the depth of. A love he knows he’ll carry with him until the day he dies. He’d do anything for the other man, no matter how much he wants to deny it. Anything he was asked.

Arthur runs a hand through Marston’s hair, humming in satisfaction when his fingers card through without resistance. The younger man made a soft noise at that, tilting his head up, searching for the gentle hand once again. Arthur hesitates for a few seconds, fingers frozen but not from the cold. Then, like he always seems to do when it comes to the other man; Arthur relents. He strokes Marston’s greasy locks, paying special mind to repeat the actions which draw soft content sighs from the younger man.

Be it traversing through a shit snow storm, brushing his damn hair, or allowing the younger man to use him as a pillow with basically the entire gang bearing witness; there wasn’t anything Arthur wouldn’t do for John.

Even now, with his legs long asleep, and back screaming at him, Arthur stays in place and lets John rest in his lap. He’ll stay there as long as he can, for as long as he’s needed.

[canonicallyobserving911]

First Mourning

Fanonwriter2023 on AO3

Where CANON and FANON collide!

FANON Future Buddie Fanfic Series

Part 9 is now available on AO3: “First Mourning” - Buck and Eddie experience their first mourning after a loss together.

First Relationship Reveal

11K Words; Rated: Teen and Up Audiences

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Here's a snippet from one of Buck and Eddie's conversations.

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Eddie rubs circles onto his back to comfort him and he starts whispering reassurances into his ear.

“I love you.”

“I’m right here to help you with whatever you need.”

“I know it hurts but we’re going to get through this together.”

“Let it all out.”

“It’s ok to cry.”

“I’ve got you and I’ll never let go.”

Buck can hear Eddie’s calm voice and it’s reassuring him because he knows Eddie’s not going to let him drown in the ocean of grief that’s trying to submerge him.  He wraps and tightens his arms around Eddie’s waist because he knows he’s the only life raft he needs.

After several minutes of crying uncontrollably and holding onto the love of his life, he’s still trying to wrap his brain around everything that’s happened but he has enough presence of mind to pull back and meet Eddie’s eyes.  “Eddie… I—I don’t understand why…”  He hiccups on a sob and continues.  “Why… why does it hurt so bad?”

Eddie unwraps one of his arms from around Buck’s back, he lifts his hand and uses his thumb to wipe away Buck’s tears.  “You’re mourning because you just suffered a loss.”

Who is Buck mourning and why is he grieving?

____________

First Love Confession -Buck and Eddie share their first real and meaningful love confession.

First Date - Buck and Eddie go on their first date.

First Kiss - Buck and Eddie share their first kiss.

First Argument - Buck and Eddie have their first argument.

First Couples Therapy Session- Buck and Eddie go to their first couples therapy sessions.

First Time - Eddie and Buck make love for the first-time.

First Morning After - The night after Buck and Eddie make love for the first-time, they spend their first morning after together.

First Relationship Reveal - Buck and Eddie’s first relationship reveal.

First Mourning - Buck and Eddie experience their first mourning after a loss together.

__________

Their Firsts, At Last - 118K Words; Currently 8 completed works: A multi-part fanfic series about the romantic “firsts” Buck and Eddie share as they journey through life in an established relationship and their lives as a couple will include some of Buck’s individual “firsts” too. It’s filled with the FANON love, romance, fluff and domesticity their relationship should have been allowed to experience in CANON.  The second part of the series title was adapted from the song “At Last” by Etta James.

This series of FANON future speculation fanfics is being written on a continuous timeline that begins with the start of season 7 (if it were to start in September 2023). Each part ends at a specific point in Buck and Eddie’s relationship so the next part can begin with the ending of the previous part. Therefore, parts 1-6 should be read prior to reading part 7 and the series will continue in that manner until it’s complete.

Parts 1 - 9 are available on AO3

[curekibouka-writing]

Legacy (Twst one-shot fanfic)

**Some mild spoilers for Malleus’s birthday interviews**

Summary: He wished for their guidance now, guidance of parents who were gone before he hatched. 

Word count: 1490

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A/N: Happy(?????) birthday Malleus 2023!!! This fic is a combination of inspiration from Malleus’s broomquet, the revelation that Malleus’s parents are no longer with him in his Birthday Boy card, and a very sad conversation with @chernabogs​. Now I’ve written this so everyone suffers and screams and cries with us ٩(๑❛ᴗ❛๑)۶

*This fic is also on Ao3

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Lilia kept as quiet as possible while he flew through shelf after shelf in the giant royal library of Briar Valley. The library seemed empty, but that’s exactly how he knew he would find what, or who, he was searching for. 

Stopping before the door of a private room deep inside, Lilia stood still to carefully observe the child curled up by the window, so small, small against everything this library is, small against everything that room was. And only after he made sure the child was not shutting out the world at the moment did he decide to knock. 

“Come in, Lilia,” Malleus did not turn to face him, but he knew only Lilia would dare to find him here. 

Lilia mustered up the softest voice he could manage when he stepped inside, “Which volume are you reading this time, my dear?” 

“I finished reading already,” Malleus corrected, small hands holding up a heavy black tome, showing Lilia the cover which was decorated with amethysts and emeralds. 

“It’s the one—“

“It’s the one with the painting of mother and father and me,” Malleus interrupted, putting the book back down on the windowsill and flipping to the exact page he wanted, “… before I hatched.” 

Lilia walked past the beautifully carved reading table and large cushioned chairs to the window where the child was seated. He looked at the page over Malleus’s shoulder, and took a moment to remember watching as the portrait had been painted all those years ago. He remembered how his heart had warmed at the rare sight of the king’s wide smile. He remembered how he looked at the former queen embracing her egg and how he sneakily remarked that he couldn’t remember the last time she had been so gentle to anyone as the king laughed about how Lilia would take the full brunt of her wrath after the painting had been completed. He remembered that he did take it with a cheeky grin still stuck on his face. 

He was feeling a similar warmth in his heart now, seeing the painting, it didn’t seem all that long ago anymore. And he understood painfully well that Malleus refused to leave the library, or leave this room, despite having finished the book time and time again, for the same reason. 

Alas, Malleus was a clever child. 

“Are the guards looking for me?” He asked after finally realising that Lilia being here meant something, “Do I have to go?” 

And Lilia sat down on the windowsill next to him, smoothly making up half a lie, “Oh I tricked them away, they think you are busy enjoying unwrapping your birthday presents at the moment. No one will bother you here.”

“I know.” He turned his attention back to the pages, a finger tracing the paragraphs beneath the painting, “I learnt new words since my last reading, Lilia.” 

“Really? Tell me, my dear.” 

“This one, I learnt it from my history lessons,” Malleus’s finger fell on the word ‘legacy’, “I learnt that my grandmother keeps the ‘legacy’ of the kings and queens before her alive.” His tiny hand balled into a fist, his tiny voice asked his question without turning to Lilia, “It says here it is hoped that I will carry on my parents’ proud legacy. Am I doing it? Am I keeping the legacy of my father and mother alive too?” 

“Of course you—” 

“But how will I know?” Interrupting Lilia again, Malleus curled into himself further, his head buried behind his knees, “I never met them. I never talked to them. I never knew what they were like. The pages behind this are so few, and I don’t want to read them. Why did they have to go so soon? Why couldn’t they stay with me a little longer? Why did I take so long to hatch?” 

And though Lilia understood no answer will ever be good enough, he still had to try, he still had to reach out and take the child into his arms, he was one of the only two beings in this world who could do it, and it was far too sad to let this child drown in such darkness, “But I knew them, my dear, I knew your father and mother veeeeeery well. I knew how happy they were to have you.”

“But they’ve never met me either.” 

“They tried their best to come back, they truly did. I can barely imagine how much happier they would’ve been if only they could.” 

“Would they have be proud of me too?” 

“Of course! You learnt new words again, didn’t you? You’re growing up so fast and as long as you keep growing, they’ll see it.” 

“What would they say to me if they were here?” Malleus slowly allowed himself to loosen up, hesitantly raising his head in anticipation. 

“Well,” Lilia chuckled, “if I have to make a guess, your mother would be nagging you to go to bed by now.” 

Malleus giggled along softly, “And father?” 

“Well, he might sneak you out to watch the stars, despite the snow, it’s your special day after all. And you would both come back soaked and sneezing, and your mother would be livid.” 

The child managed a small, amused smile at the imagination, and continued, “Did mother sound like grandmother?” 

“Hmm… she had your grandmother’s regalness. She spoke with all the elegance and solemnity of winter in her voice. But when you anger her… well, you’d best not because while your grandmother’s wrath is a fire that spreads, your mother’s was a thunder that cuts you open with precision and power.” 

“And what was she like when she sang? You told me before that she sang. Oh please tell me more!” 

“On occasions, yes, she did. And your father would accompany her sometimes.” 

“Violin?” 

“Cello. He said the cello’s timbre suits her better.“

“Will I be big enough to play father’s cello soon?” Malleus pondered, and turned his head to look at the table and chairs in the room, table and chairs that he had always left untouched, “Will I be big enough to sit in father’s seat soon?” 

Lilia considered the question for a moment. It was quite obvious that Malleus was not only referring to his height or age. But Lilia’s answer did not change regardless. When Malleus grows, he will be ready, that much was sure as day. 

Lilia stroked Malleus’s forehead, gently brushing against his scales, “You will one day, child. You are their legacy. You are tired now, you ought to rest, so you’ll give the best of yourself to your studies tomorrow as well.” 

Malleus fell silent for a few moments, and began again quietly, “Can’t I sleep here today?” 

The cold windowsill is frankly no place for the prince to slumber, but Lilia could not bring himself to refuse, “I don’t see why not, shall I bring you a blanket?” 

“No, thank you. I am warm,” Malleus left Lilia’s embrace and nestled up by the corner, “I like to think that this room smells of father’s fire.” 

Lilia nodded in compliance, ready to stand up and leave the child alone. But Malleus was the one to reach out this time, tugging at Lilia’s sleeves. 

“Can you stay? Can you tell me more about them? Like bedtime stories.” 

There was a certain sorrow in having to do this in their place. But Lilia kept himself from pursing his lips, and put effort into smiling instead, “Of course, my dear. Now, where were we?” 

“Mother’s singing. Did she sing for me? When I was still oversleeping inside my egg?” 

“Why yes she did!” 

“Do you remember it? Can you sing it for me?” 

“I’d never forget it.” 

He promised himself and promised the former king and queen that he would give their child all that they would’ve given. And though he had broken many a promise in his frivolous life, this one, this time, he will keep. 

He recalled how the former queen would sing while tapping the egg slowly and softly, tranquil like the night; and he now began to stroke Malleus’s back rhythmically as he breathed in. Then he recalled how the king would join his queen’s singing, how the king’s voice had been kind yet strong like greenery, like trees, like thorns; and he now hummed the song that belonged to their family, their language, their child. 

“

Sleep now, sleep safe, the hope of our lives

Our thorns will protect you with all our might

Be not frightened, be not alarmed

The fires shall still when you’re in our arms

“

As he sang, it was as if he can see the queen and king there beside their child of night and thorn. As if they embraced him, watched over him even now. And how Lilia wished, as the small prince drifted off to sleep, for them to be there for him, at least, once upon a dream. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The End

[ksadvent]

K/S Advent 2022: Masterlist and Wrap-Up

It's the 1st of January, 2023 (at least in this mod's timezone)! Happy New Year! May it be filled with peace and love, joy and laughter, inspiration and creativity! 

Thank you to everyone who contributed to the Kirk/Spock Advent Calendar 2022! Authors, artists, beta-readers, readers, and reviewers – thank you for making this K/S Advent such a beautiful experience and, dare we say, a great success! 

We made it to 59 submissions, posted by 31 creators; the works consist of 42 fics, 1 podfic, 2 poems, 1 playlist, 14 artworks (digital art, traditional art, manips, 3D objects), and even 1 submission of baked goods.

Out of the 73 prompts that were submitted, 41 were filled, several of them multiple times. At the time of closing the collection for posting, 13 claims were left unposted (the numbers shown on AO3 differ a bit as not everyone made use of the official claiming/filling process).

Here's the promised masterlist (in chronological order). Or directly check out our AO3 collection.

Day 1: dreamsaremadeofthis, The Bestest Gift of All (fic; AOS) Day 2: syredronning, Happy Holidays! (art; AOS) Day 2: USS_Genderprise, The Morning After (fic; TOS or AOS) Day 3: yassifiedjimkirk, When Words Fail (fic; TOS or AOS) Day 4: IvanW, How Far Away You Roam (fic; AOS) Day 4: USS_Genderprise, Mirrorverse Mistletoe (art; TOS) Day 5: Orabla, Shopping for Gifts, Finding Diamonds (fic; AOS) Day 5: syredronning, Celebrations (art; TOS) Day 6: stoatwrote, The Long Memory (fic and playlist; TOS) Day 7: dreamsaremadeofthis, Spock's Gamble (fic; TOS) Day 8: gunstreet, My Wing (fic; TOS, DISCO) Day 8: yassifiedjimkirk, Unwrapping Your Present (art; TOS) Day 9: USS_Genderprise, Beyond Mind and Matter (fic; TOS) Day 9: VTsuion, Fly Me to the Moon (art; TOS) Day 10: 1lostone, Best-Laid Plans (fic; AOS) Day 10: Orabla, Diamonds for You (poem; AOS) Day 11: eviepopcorn, Let Me Help (fic; TOS) Day 12: IvanW, A Christmas Thing (fic; AOS) Day 12: TonightNoPoetryWillServe, The Ship in the Snowglobe (fic; AOS) Day 13: kayson, Uprising (fic; TOS) Day 13: USS_Genderprise, Catch a Hint (fic; AOS) Day 14: sourirenoire, How Can I Say I Love You When Words Are Not Enough? (fic; TOS) Day 14: vfrankenstein, Holiday Sugar Cockies (cookies; TOS) Day 15: ikoliholic, Se Vi Nur Scius (If Only You Knew) (fic; TOS or AOS) Day 15: yassifiedjimkirk, The Gift of Loyalty (fic and art; TOS) Day 16: AshayaTReldai, Reconciliation of Penitents (fic; TOS) Day 16: Orabla, Under the Mistletoe (poem; TOS or AOS) Day 17: IvanW, Merrily on High (fic; AOS) Day 17: USS_Genderprise, Under Your Skin (fic; AOS) Day 18: Herself_nyc, Bashert (fic; TOS, AOS) Day 18: Noideasfornames, Light One Candle (fic; TOS) Day 19: ikoliholic, Wandering Lands, Helping Hands (fic; TOS or AOS) Day 19: USS_Genderprise, Stars in the Snow (fic; TOS or AOS) Day 20: eviepopcorn, Three's a Crowd (fic; TOS) Day 20: pkrosche, An Old Earth Custom (fic; TOS) Day 21: Orabla, Five Times Kirk or Spock Had a Nervous Breakdown, and One Time They Both Had It Simultaneously (fic; TOS) Day 22: ikoliholic, Fatal Vision (fic; TOS) Day 22: USS_Genderprise, Spin, Spin, Spin (fic; TOS or AOS) Day 23: gunstreet, Between Dream and Duty (fic; TOS) Day 23: Lupo (LupoLight), Against Twinkling Lights (fic; AOS) Day 24: cicia3, It's the most wonderful time of the year (fic; AOS) Day 24: pkrosche, Cozy Sweaters (art; TOS, AOS) Day 25: 1lostone, Mistletoe Kisses (podfic, AOS) Day 25: USS_Genderprise, Deck My Halls (fic; TOS) Day 26: Purple_Enma, A Christmas Picture (art; TOS or AOS) Day 26: TonightNoPoetryWillServe, A Very Illogical Christmas (fic; AOS) Day 27: 1lostone, drenchedinlight, EEW101, lb_betty, PageofWands, T'Lara, vfrankenstein, yassifiedjimkirk, Jim and Spock's 12 Days of Kink (a collaborative fic by the KiScord crowd) (fic; TOS) Day 27: Orabla, Two Solitudes, One Blizzard and One Illogical Celebration (fic; AOS) Day 28: pkrosche, A Win for Christmas (fic; SNW) Day 28: Purple_Enma, Encounter at Sundown (art; TOS or AOS) Day 29: enterprize (stanzas), Searching For A Tender Touch (fic; TOS) Day 29: T'Lara, Here's to a Happy New Year – and to the Wonderful K/S Fandom! (art; TOS) Day 30: cvrue, Pon Farr comes but once every seven years (art; TOS) Day 30: PageofWands, A Little Sweet, A Little Spicy: KS Gingerbread! (art; TOS) Day 30: USS_Genderprise, Warmth (fic; AOS) Day 31: 1lostone, Spanking Al Fresco - A Love Story (fic; AOS) Day 31: AureliaR, By the Fire(work) Light (fic; TOS) Day 31: cvrue, The Trouble with Snowballs (art; TOS) Day 31: PageofWands, Wishing You A Very Mirrorverse Holiday! (art; TOS)

The 2022 collection is now closed for posting. The K/S Advent Calendar will return next year for a new round. If your prompt(s) did not get filled, you can submit them as new requests for Advent 2023, if you wish to. If you do not want to wait that long, you can also submit them to our sister event Kirk/Spock Spring Fever which will go live in March 2023, a fest without any specific theme as long as the work is focused on Kirk and Spock, be it slash or gen/friendship. Sign-up opens today!

If you are sure you submitted something to the collection, but don't see it in the collection or on the masterlist above, please do get in touch with the mod asap so that we can investigate what went wrong with the submission: kirkspockmod+ksadvent@gmail.com We are also happy to hear your feedback: How did you experience this K/S Advent? Any wishes, suggestions, complaints? Anything you wish would've been different? Anything that was unclear or confusing and needs better explanation in our rules/FAQs?

On the mod side of things, we had an almost exclusively positive experience. One thing we might want to handle differently next year is how strict we are about the submission deadline; we wanted to be as generous as possible with deadline extensions, but this made scheduling the daily reveals a bit more difficult. As the creation phase is quite long for K/S Advent, we hope that creators can be encouraged to submit their works sooner. You can submit feedback via email, message to kirkspockmod on DW, comment on our masterlist DW post, or message on Tumblr.

[canarias-stuff]

A STORY FOR 🎃🕸TDDK HALLOWEEK 2023!🕸🎃

Based on Day 2 Prompts: Mirrors / Haunted / "Ghosts never speak till spoken to."

SUMMARY:

“You came back?” Was the first thing that the mirror said, a curious expression on his face. “I thought that you were done here?”

“What are you?” Todoroki asked, ignoring the mirror’s question.

“I already told you, I am a ghost.”

“I spent my whole weekend researching supernatural stuff, my google looks like I am ready to be a ghost hunter, but things still don't make sense! Your existence still doesn’t make sense!” Shouto spilled, his frustration at the topic leaking with every word. “I can see you, but I can’t prove your existence with numbers or logic! And this is so weird, because, what the hell am I doing?! Talking with a mirror?! The only logical explanation here is that I am finally crazy!”

Woah!, Shouto thought, surprised by his own outburst. Last time that he got to say so much in just one breath was at Asui’s 18th birthday party when he got really drunk, and was explaining why people should eat soba instead of ramen.

Or, a TodoDeku story where Todoroki talks with a ghost trapped inside a mirror.

Ao3 link:

“Did you hear?”

“Hear what?”

“What?! You didn’t hear about it?!”

“About what?!”

“It appeared!”

“What appeared?!”

“The ghost!”

…

Medical student Todoroki Shouto was a science type of person. Math, biology, physics and chemistry make a lot of sense, you can prove stuff using logic, numbers, chemical experiments, and you can show people that a bacteria exists using a microscope. 

As long as you can give concrete proofs about something, that exists. It's not a rumor or gossip. Numbers and logic don’t lie. It shows you a fact, and even if you don’t understand why you should use that formula, as long as you use that, anyone will have the same result.

It is a fact. It is rational.

But that is his opinion, as a logical person. People are free to believe in whatever they want, but Shouto just didn’t understand why other people were so adamant on believing in…ghosts.

For some reason, since he arrived at his class that morning, the students from all departments were gossiping about the oldest building in the campus - the one that right now was under renovation. From what Shouto heard so far, something, a ghost of all things, showed up there.

He didn’t care about it, zombies and vampires could be spotted around the old building and he still wouldn't care, so he ignored the rumors and continued his day. Or so he did until lunchtime.

“So, Tsuyu-chan told me that Toga-chan told her that someone from the art department went to the oldest building in the campus because of a bet.” Uraraka said as soon as she sat at their regular table in the gardens.

“Oh, is that about the rumors that I’ve been hearing since morning?” Yaoyorozu asked, unwrapping a big sized (and really expensive looking) bento. “About the ghost?”

Todoroki had to control himself, or he would roll his mismatched eyes over this ridiculous gossip.

“I also heard about it.” Jirou commented, pointing her chopsticks at no one in particular. “And the students are also posting a lot of comments and stories about the rumors on the official students page on twitter.”

“Even the teachers had their own opinions about it.” Iida added, fixing the position of his glasses on his face. “Hizashi-sensei was yelli- I mean, sharing his ideas for 10 minutes.”

“This is ridiculous.”

Four pairs of eyes turned to look at the white and red haired boy, who was munching his soba undisturbed by the stories.

“A ghost. Really?”

“Come on Todoroki! You don’t have to sound so annoyed. It’s just for fun.”

“I just can’t understand what is so fun, Jirou.” He admitted, expression serious. “Why do people insist on telling stories about ghosts? It doesn't even exist, it’s so obvious it is a lie, and everyone still gossip and speculate about it.”

“Woah! Sometimes I forget that you are the ‘it doesn't exist until it’s proved the opposite’ type of person!” The short haired brunette girl whistled amused by her friend's comment. “But anyway, it’s not a lie.”

“And how do you know?” He arched a perfect red eyebrow. “Where is the proof?”

“It’s not a lie, but I also didn't say it’s true. It’s a rumor.”

“...It’s a lie.”

“Todoroki-san, just because you don’t believe it, doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.” Yaoyorozu interrupted, her voice soft and understanding. “I know that you are skeptical about this kind of stuff, but some people believe and you have to respect it, okay?”

“Sorry…I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“I know.”

“But.” He added. “I just don’t…understand.”

“I know what you mean.” Iida seconded. “I am a math and physics student, so I understand that logically speaking, ghosts and the supernatural in general are something that challenges everything that we learn.”

“Oh guys, come on!” Ochako grunted. “You don’t have to believe! Just think that this kind of story appears once in a while for the college student’s fun experiences! I mean, remember back in our school days when people were always gossiping about the School Seven Mysteries? Here at college it is not so different!”

“Uraraka is right, you don't have to believe." Kyouka nodded. "I don't believe it either because I never saw a ghost or whatever, but still, it is fun when people do courage tests and other events."

Well, Todoroki could agree with it. It was fun to see Kaminari and Ashido, two of their high school friends, run around the forest after being hit with a piece of konjaku during a courage test during their senior year.

"By the way, what are the rumors saying?" The tallest girl in the group asked. "I didn't hear about the specifics about the rumors…I was too worried about the mock test…"

"Well, Tsuyu-chan said that this art student went to the storage in the old building because they lost a bet."

"You already said it." Todoroki commented.

She didn't mind Todoroki and continued.

"The thing is, there is a story about a mirror in the storage room."

"A mirror?" Iida sais retorically.

"There's a rumor…"

"Again a rumor…"

"Be quiet, Todoroki!" Jirou snapped.

"...that says that the spirit of a student is locked inside the mirror, and if you call it, it will answer any question. Some people say that it can even tell you about your future."

"And what do we need to say to call it?" Momo asked, genuinely curious about the story.

"Mirror mirror of mine."

They stared at Uraraka.

"What?" Jirou asked dumbfound.

"Yeah, I know, kind of a Snow White punchline, but that's what the rumors say!"

"Seems like Snow White will show up in the mirror." Shouto lips curved up, amused. "Or the seven dwarfs."

"As long as it is not the Evil Queen, anyone is okay." Ochako giggled. "But anyway, the thing is, the student said these words, and something really showed up in the mirror!"

"His reflection. It's a mirror." Came Todoroki dry comment, but his friends ignored him as Ochako continued the story.

"Unfortunately, the student freaked out and left, so we don't really know if the ghost in the mirror can tell you about the future or something like that." She sighed disappointed.

"That's a shame." The ponytail girl said, a hand on her cheek. "If this is true, I would like to know what I am doing in the future so I can prepare better."

"You already do good enough, Yaomomo." The short black haired girl tried to cheer her best friend, patting her on the back. “But it does sound like the kind of story that people would gossip around the campus.”

“Don’t you think so?!” The brunette exclaimed. “If I wasn’t already scared of the old building alone, I would like to take a peek at the mirror and ask the ghost how I can become rich!”

“It’s a mirror.” Todoroki repeated. “It will show your image, and that’s already an answer for your question. Only you can make yourself rich.”

Uraraka rolled her eyes. 

“So why don’t you go there and tell me if it’s real or not?”

“Why should I?”

Their friends looked back and forth from those two, clearly, something interesting would come now.

“You want proof that ghosts don’t exist, so go to the old building and call the ghost.”

“This is ridiculous.”

“No, this is science.” Ochako grinned. “You prove theories by trying them, right? So say ‘mirror mirror of mine’ and see what happens. You will prove a point, and entertain your curious friends! It’s a win-win situation!”

Mismatched eyes stared at the brown ones for a moment.

Todoroki sighed.

“Fine.”

…

The sky was already a dark shade of orange and purple when Shouto’s classes ended that day. His friends were probably gone by now, fridays were the days that his classes last longer than the other majors, and no matter how much his friends love him, they definitely love their early freedom on fridays more.

He was tired, and had a lot of homework and a new project to start, but when he was passing by near the old building, the conversation with Uraraka came to his mind.

Proof.

If he goes inside now, he can show Uraraka that rumors are rumors and that ghosts don’t exist, and the earlier he does it the better, or Uraraka would definitely say something like he is afraid of entering the building or whatever.

He approached the building and pushed the door open, a loud crack sound echoed in the empty hallways, and for a split second Todoroki thought that this scenario looked like one from a horror movie that his friends forced him to watch years ago.

There were a lot of paint cans, wood and other tools like hammers and saws scattered around, after all, the college was indeed renovating the building, but no one was there, probably all the workers left early. Well, it’s friday.

“By the way.” Todoroki abruptly stopped walking, mismatched eyes looking around. “Which room has the mirror?”

Of all things to forget, he forgot to ask Uraraka where he was supposed to find the mirror.

…

The sun was long gone when he finally found a storage room for the theater and arts department. The room was filled with costumes, boxes with makeup, brushes and paint, there was some cardbords and signs stacked in one of the corners of the room, but the flashlight of his phone wasn’t good enough to distinguish what was written or draw on them, and Shouto didn’t want to turn on the lights of the building, the last thing he wanted was the security coming by and ask what he was doing there.

Going deep inside the storage, something reflected the light of his flashlight.

A mirror. A full length mirror hanging on the wall.

“Must be this one.”

A rectangular mirror with a golden frame. There was a crack from the top right corner to the bottom left corner, slightly distorting his reflection. Shouto put his phone on the floor and grabbed the mirror, taking it from the wall and turning it around to take a look behind it. It was heavy, but then again, the mirror was glued at a wood surface.

He inspected the object for a full minute, but nothing was wrong with it. It was a normal old mirror that the arts department probably dropped, but was too lazy to throw in the trash.

There’s just one thing left to do. Todoroki thought, putting the mirror back at the wall.

He stared at his reflection, his mouth opened.

“Mirror mirror of mine…” What was he supposed to say now? A question? What should he ask? He didn’t have anything in particular to ask anyway. “...Is there anyone more beautiful than me?”

Okay. What the hell just came out of his mouth? He joked about Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, but his brain must have had a really bad short circuit, because what the hell he just said?! Thank God no one was there to hear that…

A giggled.

…or so he thought.

“Who is there?” Shouto called, eyes looking around the room, because he heard someone giggled.

“Well, so far, you are the prettiest person I have ever seen." Someone said, voice muffled. "But this is just my opinion."

The college student turned his head, once more looking at his reflection in the mirror, this time though, his reflection was not alone.

Big emerald eyes, curly and fluffy green hair, cheeks painted on freckles that looked like stars, and an amused but sincere smile.

"Hello!" The boy in the mirror said when their eyes met, the smile still playing on his lips.

Todoroki flinched. WHAT.THE.HELL?

"Oh, you are the first one that doesn't run away on the spot!" 

There must be a logical explanation for this, Todoroki told himself, because how is it possible that...that...an image(?) was talking with him?

"Hum...? Hey?" The mirror waved a hand. "Are you okay? Oh, please, just don't pass out here!"

"I..." He cleared his throat. "I won't." Shouto found his voice again, mismatched eyes never leaving the mirror.

"Thanks god! I was really worried for a second!" And the mirror sighed like he was really relieved.

Shouto studied the mirror again. Was it really a mirror? Maybe it was a screen and someone made a really good job programming an A.I?

"I am not a TV, app or A.I." The green haired boy said amused, and Shouto flinched again, surprised that he was muttering.

"So..." He couldn't believe what he was about to ask. "...what are you?"

"Not 'Who are you' but 'What are you' ..." The boy paused. "I would like to say that I am a person, but people call me a ghost."

A ghost.

Hah. Great.

"Ghosts don't exist." Shouto denied, not wanting to believe in what he was looking at right now.

The boy in the mirror blinked a few times, pointed a finger at his own face, and arched an eyebrow.

"But I am right here...?"

"You're not a ghost."

"If I am not one, then what exactly am I?"

"...I don't know... yet ."

"Oh! I see!" The mirror snapped a finger, face suddenly lighting up. "You are shocked! Or just in denial!"

"I am not!" Todoroki grunted. What was happening? He was arguing with a mirror? He must be dreaming or gone insane! Where was the logic that he liked so much?

"Sure~"

Was the boy in the mirror sassing him?

"Anyway, did you just come here to ask me that?"

"What?"

"I mean, did you really ask me the same question that the Evil Queen used to ask her mirror?"

"I didn't know what to ask." Todoroki replied dryly, and then added. "And I didn't believe or expect that something would answer me at all."

"Well, I answered, so what do you want to do now?"

Shouto stared at the boy, analyzing him. Now that he calmed down and was trying to better assess the situation, he could see that the boy was wearing some kind of costume, like a jumpsuit, and black ironed shoes. The green haired boy was probably shorter than him and around his age. If this was some kind of prank, the mirror boy sure was doing a good job.

"I am leaving." Shouto said suddenly, grabbing his phone that was still on the floor, and turning his back to the mirror.

"Oh." He heard, and it sounded really sad. "Bye bye."

The red and white haired college student closed the door behind his back and quickly left the building.

...

Todoroki didn't tell his friends about the mirror. He spent all weekend searching for logical explanations for what happened at the old building, because as a scientific person, how could he accept that whatever he saw that day was a…ghost?

No. No way.

There must be a logical answer for that. So he researched, and researched and researched. The algorithms for his google showing now, articles about ghosts and other supernatural figures, people trying to hunt said ghosts or communicate with them.

When monday arrived, Todoroki did his best to avoid his friends, because right now he was a man on a mission to prove that whatever was that person he saw in the mirror, was not a ghost.

…

Shouto lied to Iida, saying that he would go to the college library to study for a mock test, and being a serious student, Iida nodded and walked away, proud of his best friend.

Now, the half white and half red haired student was standing in front of the mirror, on a late monday afternoon, glaring at his own reflection and waiting for the green haired boy to show up.

“Hey, where are you?” Shouto said, but the mirror was still only showing his reflection. He pondered for a second. Was the ‘mirror mirror of mine’ a condition for the other boy to show up? He should try. “Mirror mirror of mine, where are you?”

He blinked, and on the next instant, green eyes were staring back at his own mismatched ones.

“You came back?” Was the first thing that the mirror said, a curious expression on his face. “I thought that you were done here?”

“What are you?” Todoroki asked, ignoring the mirror’s question. 

“I already told you, I am a ghost.”

“I spent my whole weekend researching supernatural stuff, my google looks like I am ready to be a ghost hunter, but things still don't make sense! Your existence still doesn’t make sense!” Shouto spilled, his frustration at the topic leaking with every word. “I can see you, but I can’t prove your existence with numbers or logic! And this is so weird, because, what the hell am I doing?! Talking with a mirror?! The only logical explanation here is that I am finally crazy!”

Woah! , Shouto thought, surprised by his own outburst. Last time that he got to say so much in just one breath was at Asui’s 18th birthday party when he got really drunk, and was explaining why people should eat soba instead of ramen.

“...Are you done?” The mirror asked.

“...Yes.” The student answered, sitting in front of the mirror.

“What is your name?”

“Todoroki Shouto.” There was a pause. “And you?”

“Well…I am not really sure.” The boy said sincerely. “But I remember someone calling me Midoriya something. Well, something that sounds like Deku.”

“Deku?” Shouto parroted. “That…sounds mean.”

“Yeah, I know. But if this is my name…well, that’s fine.” The mirror, Midoriya, shrugged. “Why…did you come back? People usually leave here crying and shouting and never come back, but you…are here.”

“I am trying to understand your…existence.” And Shouto was trying really hard. “People die, and that’s it. The end. There’s no life after you die.”

“Some things can't be explained. And I am some kind of proof, right? After all, you can’t really pinpoint why I exist, and I don’t think any scientist would understand either, I don’t understand, and I’ve been here for a while.” Deku commented, but there was no arrogance in his voice, he was just saying what he really believed. 

“How long? I mean, how long have you been trapped?”

“Hum…that’s a difficult question.” Midoriya looked pensive. “After a while you kind of lose track of the time, since I can only appear if someone says those Evil Queen’s speech. So, yeah, it could be days, months or years, but I bet that I’ve been here for a couple of years.”

“That…sounds…”

“Sad? Lonely?”

“I was about to say boring, but it fits too.”

This time Midoriya laughed, and Shouto couldn't control the small smile that appeared on his own lips.

“Yes, it is boring, but most of the time I feel like I am asleep, dreaming about a world and people that I can’t remember after waking up…so yeah, but I can manage something. It’s not like I’m gonna die…again.”

“Don’t you…want to be free from the mirror?” Shouto asked, taking a look at the golden frame. “Find the light or something like that?”

“Of course I want to, but I don’t even know why I am here!” The mirror boy replied, biting the inside of his cheek. “Maybe I died in front of a mirror and my soul got trapped, people say that mirrors have this power. Or maybe I am cursed? Or I am the real Evil Queen’s mirror!”

“...Don’t be ridiculous.” Todoroki deadpanned. “And how do you know this kind of stuff? I had to do plenty of research to find some legends about mirrors and their power.”

“I am amnesiac, not dumb.” Came the reply, and then the laughter. “I don’t know either, I like to think that I was curious about a lot of stuff when I was alive, and even if I forgot my name, I still have the knowledge that I got during my life.”

“Remembering your name would be better.”

“Maybe yes, maybe no. There’s no way to know.”

They went silent, Deku humming a soft melody that Shouto never heard, but it was nice.

“Do you…want to know your name?”

Emerald eyes stared at him.

“What?”

“I said, do you want to know your name?”

“Well, of course I want to, but how…”

“I will do some research, try to find a clue about you, and with luck, we can get a name.”

“Would you…do something like this…for me?” Shouto didn’t know that a ghost or mirror could cry, but the small droplets at the corner of Midoriya’s green eyes were tears. No mistake.

“If I can’t explain rationally stuff like ghosts, I would like to at least prove that someone by the name ‘Midoriya something like Deku’ one day was a living person.”

“Thank you.” Midoriya said between sobs, hands trying to stop the tears that keep falling. “Thank you.”

And for the first time since all that crazy experience started, Shouto felt like something was right.

...

The days passed by, and Shouto would visit Midoriya every day. It was fun, Midoriya was a good listener and was really intelligent, he would always give Shouto his opinions on the papers that a teacher would score, and mutter over small things.

Shouto didn't even notice when he stopped caring about the logic behind Midoriya's existence.

...

“Another test?!” Uraraka exclaimed, clearly indignant. “How many mock tests have your teachers passed you in the last two weeks?!”

“I lost track after the third one.” Jirou commented, not really giving a shit about Todoroki’s possible suffering. “That’s medical students for you.”

“Ugh! This way you will never have enough time to check the old building!” The brunette complained, and Shouto had to control his usual stoic expression. “The rumors are already dying, and I still don’t have an answer about the mirror!”

“Rumors are rumors anyway.” Todoroki said, not letting a single amused tone of voice escape his lips. “And if you are so curious, just go there by yourself and check it out.”

“No way! I am scared!” She cried, arms around her shoulders, trying to protect herself from an invisible threat. “What if something really shows up?”

“Then scream and run away.” He answered. Shouto wondered what Midoriya would say to whatever Uraraka asked about.

Yaoyorozu placed her chopsticks down, and stared at Todoroki for a moment, but it was long enough for Shouto to realize that the ponytail girl was looking at him.

“Something is wrong, Yaoyorozu?”

“No, not really.” The tall girl said, but her eyes still had a curious light in them. “I just feel like usually you would answer a little bit different that kind of question.”

“What do you mean?”

“You said ‘Then scream and run away’ , when usually you would say ‘Nothing's gonna show up’ .”

“Ah. That’s true.” Iida agreed. “That would sound more like Todoroki-kun.”

“Heh~” Ochako hummed, amused. “Have you finally accepted that a ghost may exist, Todoroki-kun?”

“I never said that.” He stated, trying his best to keep his cool. “I just gave you a logical solution for a hypothetical situation. Or would you stay put and wait for something to jump on you like those stupid people from horror movies?"

“Of course I would run away! No way that I am dying like that!”

“I thought so.”

“Yaomomo, that is a totally Todoroki kind of answer.” Kyouka nudged her taller friend.

“I guess so.” Momo sighed and went back to her lunch.

Crisis averted.

…

“Why do you wear a jumpsuit?” Todoroki asked one day.

“Hum…I wonder why…” Deku answered. “But they are pretty comfy.”

“It’s weird.”

“No, it’s cool! Makes me look like a superhero!”

“Are you a kid?”

“I look around your age though?”

…

“Why do we need to say ‘Mirror mirror of mine’ to call you?”

“I don’t know. But it’s kind of fun!”

“For you.”

“Of course! Or maybe there’s a rule like ‘Ghosts never speak till spoken to’.”

…

“Someone came here today.” Deku said.

“What did they ask?” Todoroki asked, eyes never leaving his anatomy book.

“They asked about you.”

“About me?” He got his coffee, taking a sip of the drink.

“Well, the exact words were, ‘Mirror mirror of mine, how many children me and Todoroki Shouto will be blessed with? ’.”

Shouto spatted the coffee and coughed, Deku laughed the whole afternoon after that.

…

“You are popular.”

Shouto arched his eyebrow.

“Why do you say it?”

“I mean, people keep coming here, and your name appears a lot on their questions.” Midoriya smirked. “Do you want to know what they asked?”

The red an white haired student glared at the mirror.

“Let me get a coffee, and this time I can spat all my coffee in the mirror.”

“That’s gross!” The green haired boy laughed, and Shouto's expression softened seeing the mirror so relaxed.

“It would be your fault.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

…

“Todoroki-kun…do you have a girlfriend?” Deku asked one day, freckled cheeks slightly pink, and for some reason, Shouto felt his own getting hot. “Or a boyfriend?”

“No.”

“Hum…and do you…like someone…?”

That question was really tricky. Shouto should lie, but just one look at Deku’s face was enough for the college student to spill everything.

“Yes, I do.”

“Oh…I see.”

After that, Midoriya changed topics, and didn’t comment about it anymore, and neither did Shouto.

…

“Mirror mirror of mine, why can't I find anything about you?”

That was the first thing that he told the mirror that afternoon.

“I don’t know.” Deku said as soon as his image appeared in the mirror, a small smile on his lips.

“...I am sorry, Midoriya.” Shouto apologized, sitting in front of the mirror, a defeated expression on his face.

“Don’t make this face, it’s not your fault that apparently, I am a difficult person to find.” Midoriya joked, trying to lighten up the mood. “You’ve been researching for almost two months, you are using your precious time on stuff that you didn’t even need to.”

“But!”

“It’s okay. Really.”

“I thought…that I could prove that you existed.” Todoroki frowned, eyes looking at the floor and hands closing around the fabrics of his pants. “I thought that I could help you…”

“Todoroki-kun, look at me.”

“I can’t…”

“Yes, you can.”

Slowly, mismatched eyes looked up to find gentle green ones.

“You don’t have to wear such a painful expression.” The boy in the mirror commented, a gentle and soft smile on his lips. “It’s not your fault that there’s no information about me. Maybe I died so long ago that there is no data at all. Don’t blame yourself for stuff that you don't have control over.”

“I just wanted to find your name.” He muttered.

“I have one. Midoriya Deku.”

“You are not sure.

“I am, because is the name that you call me, right?”

“Midoriya…”

“Yes, that’s my name.” Deku smiled.

…

Something changed by the end of the second month since Shouto met the boy in the mirror.

“I hear someone calling my name when I am sleeping.” Midoriya said during one of their conversations.

“Your real name?!”

Deku shakes his head.

“No, they call me ‘Midoriya’.”

Shouto stared at the boy in a jumpsuit, Midoriya looked like he wasn’t telling him everything, but demanding answers was never a good option, he should be patient and wait until the grenette was ready to talk.

“Maybe it is a piece of your memory.” Todoroki tried, and green eyes stared at him. “And soon you will get an answer.”

“Yes, maybe.”

…

Three months after he met Deku, something felt off.

Shouto woke up that morning feeling like something was wrong. His alarm didn’t go off, he woke up 30 minutes before the alarm, and occurrences like that were rare since he wasn’t a morning person.

It was raining outside, the sky was gray, and once in a while he could hear the sound of cars running over water puddles. Usually he didn’t mind rainy days, but that morning, that kind of weather wasn’t helping him get rid of the wrongness inside his chest.

Midoriya.

The name of the boy in the mirror was the first thing that came to mind.

He wanted to see Midoriya no matter what.

…

“Midoriya!” He exclaimed, pushing the storage room open and going straight to the mirror, forgetting for a second that calling his name like that didn’t work. “Mirror mirror of mine, where is Midoriya?”

The clock ticked.

One, two, three, four, five…a full minute.

But Midoriya didn’t appear,and that made Shouto panic.

“Mirror mirror of mine, where is Midoriya?!” He tried again, however nothing but his reflection was there. “Midoriya! Hey! Midoriya!”

“...Todoroki-kun.”

The voice, that familiar and sweet voice came from behind him. Slowly Shouto turned his body, and behind him, was a shorter green haired boy, with emerald like eyes, and freckles that looked like the stars, wearing a green jumpsuit and black ironed shoes.

“Midoriya…”

“Hi.” The boy waved.

“You…” Shouto said dumbfounded, approaching Deku carefully, as if a single hasty gesture would scare him away. “...are free.”

“Yes…looks like that.” Deku agreed, not moving from his place.

“How…?”

“I had a dream last night, or more like I retrieved my memories.” He said, and when Shouto stayed silent, he continued. “I remembered why I was stuck inside the mirror.”

“Did you…” But Todoroki didn’t have the courage to finish that sentence, because right now, everything was too real.

“No, I am alive.” Deku said, and Shouto felt his heartbeat skyrocket. “And I’ve been alive for a really long time, when something called quirks were still going around the world.”

“Quirks?”

“Something like superpowers, I would say. Can you imagine a society where we had heroes and heroines running around the city saving people’ lives?” Deku explained, a little bit more excited. “That kind of explains why I am wearing a jumpsuit that looks like a Halloween costume.”

“Midoriya,” Shouto called, trying to make the boy come back to track.

“The thing is, there was a villain…her quirk allowed her to trap people inside a mirror, and I think she died before someone could figure out where I went. Time passed, and I was probably sleeping all these years, no one found me, and the first time I woke up, people were scared of me.”

“What was the condition to get you out of the mirror?” Shouto asked, stopping in front of Midoriya that didn’t back off.

“I had to remember my name.” Midoriya replied, a nervous look on his face. “For a few weeks, I felt like someone was calling me in my dreams…or memories, and last night…they finally said my real name.”

“...can you finally introduce yourself?” Shouto asked, lips quivering.

A few tears fell from Deku’s green eyes, but he smiled.

“Yes, I can.”

“So, mirror mirror of mine, can you tell me your name?”

“Nice to meet you, I am Midoriya Izuku.”

“Izuku…” Todoroki tried the name. “Izuku.”

It was perfect.

“Do you want to know who was calling me?”

Shouto nodded.

“Ask the question.”

“Mirror mirror of mine, tell me, who was it?”

“Someone that I loved so much, and fell in love once again.” Izuku said, loving eyes staring at mismatched ones. “Do you know someone that goes by the name, Todoroki Shouto?”

…

“Did you hear?”

“Hear what?”

“What?! You didn’t hear about it?!”

“About what?!”

“It appeared!”

“What appeared?!”

“The ghost!”

“Oh, is that about the rumor about the ghost trapped inside the mirror hanging on the wall of the storage room in the old building?”

“Yes!”

“No way, there is no ghost there.”

“And how do you know?”

“Because I heard it from a student whose grandfather used to study here. Did you know that is not a horror story? It’s actually a romance?”

“What? A romance?”

“Yep! They said that once upon a time there was a hero who was imprisoned within a mirror, waiting for his soulmate to appear, because that was the only way he could recover his memories and break free from his glassy confinement, so one day he could get together once again with his loved one.”

[azurefishnets]

Testing the Waters

For dearest @siverwrites, on the occasion of @fyeahghosttrick's Ghost Swap 2023. I had to write about a most particular "odd gift" tailor-made for Jowd!

The story can be found at the link above, or you can read below.

AO3 Profile Fandom: Ghost Trick: Phantom Detective Words: 3492

Summary: On a holy night 6 years before Ghost Trick begins, Jowd and Cabanela test their friendly rivalry in a high-stakes game of chicken. One of Cabanela's ever-weird but ever-useful gifts may save the day… or it may end their friendship forever.

The living room had become a place of glorious chaos: wrapping paper, garland, and bright ribbons were strewn haphazardly across the sofa, the coffee table, under the couch, around the banisters, and any other place a little girl too busy shrieking in glee over her presents to pay attention to the mundane matters of mess could be relied upon to have discarded it. The space under the tree was bare, save the place where the last mound of wrapped presents lay, and Kamila had just finished unwrapping her last gift, a fabulously glittery silver recorder which promptly went into her mouth. Something approximating music began to fill the air.

“I’ll kill him,” Alma whispered in mock despair, glaring at Jowd by way of proxy for the absent Cabanela’s gift to their daughter, then producing a dismayed smile for Kamila’s efforts. “Absolutely kill him. He’s not allowed to be the loud-gift uncle, you hear me?”

Jowd, who sat on the floor and had expertly navigated himself into being thoroughly covered in gift wrap and paper detritus, wore a smile that only barely escaped being more a rictus as Kamila hit a particularly shrill note. “Sorry,” he said in response to Alma’s protest. “Got a mango in my ear. What was that?”

“Jowd.” Alma widened her eyes at him in that special way of beleaguered spouses everywhere. “Don’t make me kill you too.”

Jowd laughed as Kamila played on with the indefatigable vigor of six-year-old lungs and enthusiasm. “Don’t worry, we’ll have her give him a concert. Soon! He’ll love it.”

“I’m certain he will.” Alma’s smile turned a little villainous. “I’ll give her some special tutelage.”

“Tutelage! Ha!” Jowd grinned at her. “A holy night miracle if he’s even got you making terrible puns now.”

“Please. Don’t start.” Alma rolled her eyes in faux-dismay, then sat straight. “Oh! I almost forgot!” She dove under the tree, reaching for the back corner which had gone undisturbed until that moment, and pulled out a midsize box wrapped in white with an ornate scarlet bow. It was labeled For Jowd. “Speaking of Cabanela, he made me promise to give you this last.”

“Hmm.” Jowd stroked a hand down his beard and accepted the box, meticulously untying the ribbon and folding the paper into a neat packet which he placed in the conveniently placed and nearly empty trash bag next to him. Alma glanced at this evidence of Jowd’s inconvenient sense of tidiness, around the room which displayed anything but, and sighed.

“Hmmmm,” Jowd said again, slitting the tape that held the box closed with a fingernail, and opening it to reveal a rubber chicken with a pulley in the middle. “This is…” He stopped. “What is it?”

“Ask your good friend,” Alma said with a shrug, unfolding herself from the floor and dusting herself free of scraps of gift wrap. “All he told me was that there was ‘nothin’ like it,’ and it was extremely important you knew that.”

“Hmm!” Jowd gave it one more interested look, then levered himself up, shedding debris as he deftly removed the recorder from his daughter’s hands and swooped a giggling Kamila into his arms. “If there’s nothing like it, I suppose that means I’ll find out soon enough.”

“I hope he comes back soon to explain it,” Alma said with a worried look at the phone. “I always worry about him when he goes on these…” she cast an eye at Kamila and finished somewhat uncomfortably, “trips.”

Jowd put an arm around her and drew her into a hug. “He’ll be fine. Spotless as always and I’m sure he’ll enjoy the gift you and Kamila are preparing for him when he gets back.”

Alma’s eyes went narrow as she glared one more time at the recorder, now hidden away from Kamila’s distracted eyes in the pouch of Jowd’s hoodie along with the chicken pulley. “Oh, he will. He’d better.”

Together, they surveyed the living room and the mess therein. Alma cast a glance at the clock. “Oh. I need to finish my appetizer platter and the cookies before we head to your mother’s—how did it get so late already?”

“Time flies,” Jowd said with an irony he wouldn’t recognize until much, much later. “I’ll get Kamila dressed, shall I?”

“And yourself,” Alma said with a pointed glance at his comfortable pajama pants and old hoodie. “You have a nice new outfit. Wear. It.”

“Fine, fine,” Jowd said, heading for the stairs, only to be stopped by the phone as it began to ring. “You go on,” he said to Alma as she looked back and forth from the kitchen to the phone with a harried expression. “I’ve got this.”

Still holding Kamila, he answered the phone. “Hello?”

“Jowd—” Cabanela’s familiar voice, then a buzzing silence. A burst of static, then something that sounded like the lapping of water. “I thought—beee here by— did you—the chicke—” There was a shout, then a very final sounding click as the phone on the other side dropped the call.

Jowd put Kamila down. “Why don’t you go on upstairs,” he told her. “Your new dress is all laid out on the bed if I know your Mama. Be back soon, OK?”

She looked at him with big, solemn eyes. “Where are you going, Papa? Grandma made pie. She promised there’d be chicken in it and everything.”

“Well, it looks like I might have to give Uncle Cabanela his present now,” Jowd said. “Hurry on upstairs while I talk to Mama.”

After a quick and quiet discussion with Alma in the kitchen wherein she wrung from him a promise to be careful, a secondary promise to get back home without undue delay so they could get to his mother’s for dinner, and a goodbye kiss with an extra one for good luck to all concerned, he went outside. As soon as he was out the door, his steps quickened and by the time he got to the car, he was all but running; he flung himself into the driver’s seat and fumbled for the thing still in his hoodie pocket.

Pulling out the rubber chicken with the pulley in the middle, he examined it thoroughly, all of his detective’s senses ringing every alarm in his head. The chicken’s open mouth drew his attention, and feeling gingerly down its throat led him to a small, rolled piece of paper. Unrolling it dropped a key on his lap, while the paper itself said only “Key to my heart, baby. I’ll B waiting for U in R spot but wait too long and I’ll be in hot water.” Examining the rest of the chicken yielded no other clues.

Jowd raised his eyebrows and sighed as he put the car in drive, heading for the underground reservoir and treatment plant on the far edge of town. Zone B was out of his usual beat; he trusted Cabanela knew what he was doing, but… he grinned and put on speed. Par for the course with his rival and old friend. Explanations would wait, but dinner was also waiting.

At the reservoir station, the parking lot seemed unusually full for a holiday and Jowd parked with corresponding caution in a spot out of the way; his unmarked car was unobtrusive enougamongst the rest. He peered at the visible entrances and let out a satisfied huff as he spotted Cabanela’s bicycle parked next to the one that most obviously led to the tank below. As he got out, he kept an eye out for anyone who might prove an issue, but the whole place was eerily quiet as he sidled to the door. The key slid into the lock and turned easily. Just inside was a pay phone. The receiver was on the hook but as Jowd lifted it, he realized the wire connecting it had been neatly removed.

Inside, metal stairs led down several flights which Jowd walked down as quietly as possible, testing each step for creaks. He peeked through the door at the bottom while crouching as low as he could. The door opened to a small, raised area with a railing and an exposed stair down to the next level and a maintenance walkway to the center of the reservoir; Cabanela stood there in the center, cornered, up against a chain link fence and alone against a small group of five figures standing around him. Dark water lapped at the concrete columns surrounding the raised platform upon which they stood with only the fence separating the group and a quick dunk.

“We’ve got you now,” one of the men said roughly, voice carrying and echoing through the cavernous room. “This hide and seek game’s been real fun but it’s time to finish it up. Give us the key or you’re going in the water.”

“Come now, baby,” Cabanela said in his most provocative tones. “I’ve given you aaall the clues. Don’t know why you’re bein’ so slow at this. I obviously don’t have it on me.” He flapped the short jacket he wore outward to show the lining. “See? Nothin’ up my sleeve.”

“Shut up!” One of the other figures slapped a fist against his other hand. “Don’t make us beat it out of you!”

Cabanela laughed outright at that. “Please, baby, threats? That’s beneath you.” He glanced up at Jowd, registered his presence, but gave no sign as he turned his attention back to those around him. “Let’s hurry it along, kiddoes. I’ve got somewhere to be.”

“Somewhere to be?” one of the figures said angrily, “We could have been done with this days ago if you’d just—!” She took a swipe at Cabanela, but couldn’t touch him as he danced out of the way, feet graceful as he circumnavigated a bucket sitting on the concrete floor next to him. She hissed with frustration, and shoved the bucket aside with her foot, the better to try a lunge.

“Oh, I thiiink you’re missin’ the point,” Cabanela said, tripping her and dancing out of the way of someone else’s attempt to grab him. “But you’re close, baby, real close! All you have to do is use those brains of yours, instead of your fists. Or your feet!”

“Rather use my fists at this point,” the last figure grunted. “I’ve had enough of you to last a lifetime.”

Jowd nodded to himself, then looked up. As he’d half expected, he found a long, sturdy cable that connected to some point in the roof above him and went over the platform and down to some control area on another level. Hoisting himself up to the long narrow maintenance path that led above him was child’s play. He pulled out the rubber chicken with the pulley in the middle and placed it over the wire but took a beat while ignoring the shouts and Cabanela’s ducking and dodging down below. He’d almost forgotten it was there, but there was something else still in his hoodie pocket, and he fished it out one-handed.

Kamila’s recorder sparkled there in the dim light, and Jowd’s face crinkled in delighted and slightly evil glee. He took a deep breath and put the mouthpiece to his lips, giving it a mighty blast as he grabbed both handles of the pulley and kicked off down his makeshift zipline. The little group down below had just enough time to take in the shrill sound of the whistle before Jowd burst through the chain link fence and was upon them, bowling them over like so many pins. They staggered and went down, leaving Cabanela to stand alone and laughing, a lanky and loose man of the law triumphant over them as Jowd dropped off the cable and landed next to him. Cabanela reached out and caught the rubber chicken with the pulley in the middle as it fell from the cable.

“Toook you long enough, baby,” he said, and shook the thing at Jowd. “You’re gettin’ slow in your old age. Suppose I shouldn’t have been expectin’ you to dress the part, Detective... but at least you had a theme song for your grand entrance. We’ll be teachin’ you showmanship yet!”

Jowd spat out the recorder, looked down at his maligned pajama pants and hoodie, and laughed softly. “Well, I was enjoying the holy night with my family, you know.”

“Justice never rests,” Cabanela retorted loftily, and looked around at the groaning group around him. “Ain’t that right, kids?”

“Detective Jowd?” One of the group sat up, disentangling himself from the man next to him. “Err… we weren’t expecting you, sir!” He put a hand to his head in uncertain salute, and Jowd gave him a lazy, two-fingered wave in the vicinity of his hair in lieu of a more formal return gesture.

Cabanela struck a pose and said, “Attention!” The five people around him scrambled upright and stood straight, saluting. Cabanela strolled down the short line.

“Uniforms… a mess. Suppose I can’t dock you too much for that given your ‘rescuer’ heeere. Even so, not a good look in any case.” He shot Jowd an ironic look. “Fooorm… all over the place.” He showed himself off with an ostentatious twirl. “Not a one of you landed a hit.”

“Untouched and spotless as usual,” Jowd muttered.

Cabanela ignored him as he reached out and knocked a knuckle against one of the men’s heads. “Demonstration of skills… not pretty, baby, not pretty at all. All in all, I’d have to call this a fail, kids. Better luck next time.”

“That’s not fair!” The lone woman in the group protested angrily. “We’ve been here for days trying to catch you; just because we didn’t expect some jerk in pajamas with a rubber chicken on a zipline to zoom in at the last minute…!”

“Baby, you fundamentally misunderstand the point of the exercise.” Cabanela shot her a disappointed look. “You have to be able to respond to unexpected situations and think on the fly as a detective. Might even have salvaged this yet if you’d worked together when an unexpected event happened.”

“But! You’re known for working alone!” the woman said. “You and Detective Jowd are famous for it!”

Cabanela shrugged. “That’s us, baby; we have our own ways of handlin’ things. You five, on the other hand, didn’t have a plan. That’s the wooorst failure of all.”

“Aw, man...” one of the other men said, then looked abashed and went silent.

“Think of it this way,” Jowd said with a genial smirk. “At least you get to go home for the rest of holy night. And next time, it’ll be me running the exercise. Won’t that be fun?”

“But we can’t go home yet,” one of the men burst out, as the rest looked dismayed and murmured amongst themselves. “We’re locked in until we find the key!”

“Now that’s just cruel,” Jowd murmured, for Cabanela’s ears alone. Aloud, he said, “And where do you think I came from? Cabanela’s right, you five are a little too green yet to pass the detective’s exam. Go on, get out of here. Up the stairs, door’s unlocked.”

“Yes, sir,” came the dispirited chorus, and the five of them began trudging up the stairs, leaving Jowd and Cabanela alone on the platform. Jowd looked around at the broken chain link fence.

“Well, that’s coming out of your budget,” he said. “What were you planning to do if Alma hadn’t given me your gift?”

“Oh, I trust her mooore than I trust you to remember these things, baby,” Cabanela returned, his voice abstracted. “Besides, I knew that phone call would get you here if nothin’ else worked.”

“Hmm.” Jowd looked down at the bucket of water, standing unobtrusively to the side, which had served double duty as a clue to the reservoir over the phone. “None of them thought that a standing bucket of water was an odd thing to find in an empty platform in the middle of plenty of water?” He bent down and sloshed in it, coming up with a rubber fish with a pulley in the middle, and dumped a key out of the fish’s mouth, tossing the key to Cabanela. “Better give that and the one you gave me back to the caretaker before we leave.”

“Don’t throw it if you’re that worried about it,” Cabanela retorted.

Jowd laughed and tossed the fish over his shoulder, and it flew through the hole in the chain link fence and down into the water underneath, sinking out of sight. “Fish go in the water. It’s just tidy. By the way, this gift was a weird one even for you.” He stared at the rubber chicken, still in Cabanela’s hand. “Where’d you get the idea?”

“Well, it had to be a chicken. That was a given. The rest of it? Eh, I asked one of the lab monkeys to design it for me.” Cabanela gave the recorder a pointed look. “Thaaat was for Kamila.”

“This is why your plan almost failed,” Jowd said, shaking it at Cabanela. “I’m pretty sure Alma is planning dire revenge for this thing. You’ve got a Kamila-concert to sit through in the near future.”

“Nooot happenin’!” Cabanela dropped the rubber chicken and made a swipe for the recorder; Jowd’s lightning quick fists took it out of his way just in time and Jowd shoved it back into his hoodie pocket. In a display of unusual clumsiness, Cabanela stumbled over the chicken, kicking it so it followed the fish into the water. Cabanela gave it the satisfied look of a gambit accomplished as Jowd caught him by the waist and set him upright before he followed it in.

“Oh, you’re definitely in for it now. Throwing away my favorite gift? Pretty sure that’s a crime on the books somewhere.” Jowd chuckled and turned away from the water, gesturing to the stairs. “Speaking of crimes, not too nice of you to keep the rooks working on a holiday, is it? I thought that one with the green lanyard would keel over when he saw me. And why the dramatics over the phone? What happened to just asking?”

“Really, baby. That little puzzle was juuust a little challenge to my rival. Ask? Whooo do you take me for?” Cabanela shot him an insulted look. Jowd shrugged; drama was an essential part of a Cabanela experience. There was no real point in asking why.

“Anyhoot, I was expecting this to be done daaays ago,” Cabanela continued. “Not my fault they didn’t have the brains of a rubber chicken with a pulley in it. Besides, I didn’t haaave anywhere to be. Holy night’s just another day when you’re a man of the law.” Cabanela said, walking past him.

“Of course you have a place to be,” Jowd retorted. “We both do. Dinner, my mother’s. She made pie! I’m told there’s noodles in it.”

“Unlikely,” Cabanela snorted. “Chicken, more likely.”

“Yeah, well,” Jowd said, not denying it, “Alma would probably kill me if I didn’t bring you back after all this. Come on with us to dinner.”

“Only if you go dressed in those spiffy new clothes laid out for you, if I know Alma,” Cabanela said lightly, as they walked up the stairs.

“Sure, sure,” Jowd said. “I’m pretty sure there’s some ‘spiffy’ new clothes for you too in some of those packages still under our tree.”

Cabanela stopped, his back to Jowd. “You had giiifts under the tree? For me?” he said, and scrubbed a hand through his slicked-back hair, absent-mindedly leaving it in a haphazard scruffle that he’d be horrified by later. “Can’t say I was expectin’ that from you, baby. You didn’t even know if I would be there.”

“Didn’t I?” Jowd said, and laughed. “Pretty sure I won my bet with Alma about the hour and minute I got your call. Anyway. I’m hungry and now you’re the slow one. Let’s get out of here and eat before it gets cold… enjoy some of that after-dinner music Alma was promising.” He scooped Cabanela up and slung him over his shoulder, jogging up the stairs two at a time while ignoring his lanky old friend’s protests. As they made their way back to a place of cacophany and chaos, Jowd didn’t spare a thought for the rubber chicken with a pulley in it, still sinking to the bottom of the deep water of the Zone B reservoir. It was gone, and it wasn’t coming back; the light and music of home called him more than those dark depths.

Cabanela slung an arm around Jowd’s shoulder as they walked into the house. Alma drew them into a hug despite not yet forgiving Cabanela the recorder, and they retreated together into the light. For just a little longer yet, they stood together as a bulwark against destiny, their stalwart presence a gift to each other that would fend off the ocean at the heart of the year’s longest night.

[nap-hime]

@helsaweenfun

Title: it became a nemesis

Fandom: Frozen

Genre: Supernatural, Angst, and Hurt & No Comfort

Event: Helsaween 2023 (Discord / Tumblr)

AU: Week 1 — The Woods

Chapters: 1/4

Word count: 3K

Summary: Then, upon unwrapping the silks and fabrics, and peering inside, Elsa is instantly greeted by a beautiful hand mirror; decorated with stainless silver framing, and intricate rose carvings and wrapping vines detailing crawling up the handle.

“How handsome,”

— HansElsa, Hand mirror AU

Chapter 1/4 link: (ao3)