#I switched to using a block of wood to control the wheel later

[wyrddogs]

The lose-your-foot technique of controlling the lure machine wheel.

The fuck-up-your-shoe version of controlling the string.

Anyway the string can literally remove your fingers so never grab it with your hands!

[marshmallow-phd]

Book of the Dead

Genre: The Mummy AU

Pairing: Junmyeon x Reader

Summary: After traveling to the fabled city of Hamunaptra, you read from the Book of the Dead and accidentally resurrect an ancient mummy with extraordinary powers and quest for revenge. The only thing to do now is try and convince your less-than-traditional guide to help you save the world.

Part 1 I Part 2

**

You ran up the smooth stone steps as quickly as your night dress would allow. If only you had had the time to change into something a bit more practical. Unfortunately, the immortal, god-like mummy that was currently lighting the city of Cairo up with the ten plagues of Egypt was exactly willing to pause for you to put on a different outfit. 

“Run this by me one more time?” Baekhyun huffed a few stairs behind. 

Rolling your eyes, you said again, “We’re going to read the stone with the inscription of the location of the book of the living. Once I translate its location, we’ll head back to Hamunaptra, retrieve it, and send Mr. Bones back to the underworld.”

“You really need to work on the nicknames,” Junmyeon grumbled as he placed a hand on your lower back to urge you upwards at a faster pace. 

“Sorry that my sarcastic wit doesn’t work best under pressure.”

“Trust me, it hasn’t been working with or without the pressure.”

You shot the soldier a dirty look, which only led to you tripping over your own feet. Junmyeon caught you before your knees could meet the edge of the last step. Looking up at him, you opened your mouth, whether to say thank you or to release another sharp remark, you weren’t sure. Those stupid brown eyes were scrambling the thought pathways in your brain. But thankfully, one thing was able to connect and bring back your focus. 

“The stone!”

A large black stone taller than you and wider than your forearm sat to the right of the staircase, a block of polished wood at the base keeping it upright and away from the wall. You ripped out of Junmyeon’s grasp and scrambled for the stone. Your eyes scanned the hieroglyphics. A few feet away, Baekhyun was half bent over in an effort to regulate his breathing. 

“Can you do that a little quieter?” you gritted between your teeth as your fingers slid over the etched surface of the stone. 

“It wasn’t that many stairs,” Sehun said. 

“Sorry, not all of us are as athletic as the muscled up soldiers over here.” Baekhyun hooked a thumb towards Junmyeon, who was hardly paying attention as he stared out the open balcony. Baekhyun and Sehun joined him, the former then gulped. “You might want to hurry up over there.”

“Patience is a virtue,” you sang. 

“Not right now it isn’t,” Junmyeon mumbled grimly. 

That was when you heard it. 

Hundreds of voices chanting in unison. 

“Imhotep. Imhotep. Imhotep. Imhotep.” Over and over in monotone sounds, growing closer and louder. 

Oh, shit.

“I hate to agree, but yes, faster would be better,” Professor Bey urged. 

His power was growing. Fast. You buckled down, translating the pictures into the ancient language and then again into your own tongue. 

“They’ve become his slaves,” Ardeth said with more morbidness than you previously thought possible. 

“A side effect of the boils and sores, I’m sure,” Baekhyun said, not helping. Another plague down. The final one, if your counting was correct.

Block them out. You needed to block all of them out. “Alright, so according to the Bembridge scholars, the gold book of Amun-Ra is located in the statue of Anubis.”

“But we found the black book there instead,” said one of the Americans. 

Baekhyun moved to your side. “So, they were wrong?”

“Obviously.” Arrogant men who thought you didn’t have enough experience to join their society. “They mixed up where they were buried. So if that was where the black book was located….”

A crash. The front doors of the museum must have been breached. 

“I got it! The golden book is located inside the statue of Horus!” You slapped the rock with your hand in victory. “Take that, Bembridge bastards!”

“Alright then, let’s run!” Baekhyun took your hand and hurried you down the hall while the others stayed close at your heels. Down the stairs and through a back corridor, you were able to make it to the car while avoiding the mind controlled citizens. Safety be damned, you all piled on one another into the topless car as Baekhyun turned over the engine and gunned it. Hordes of the poor men chasing you poured out of the doors of the museum and managed to keep up with the four wheeled vehicle that now raced through the dirt streets in the dark. Junmyeon remained on the trunk of the car, reloading his gun and punching anyone who was able to get close enough. 

“Those are innocent people!” you yelled over all the noise.

“Yeah, well, right now, it’s us or them!” Junmyeon kicked one off but lost his balance in the meantime. He nearly fell into the crowd before you were able to grab his arm and yank him down. “Thanks,” he muttered mere inches from your face before clearing his throat and righting himself. On his other side, Sehun was fighting along with Ardeth to keep you all from being overrun. Imhotep must have been able to give the controlled men advanced abilities. An unfortunate event. 

But right when you thought that you might be able to get away, several men climbed onto one of the Americans and they all fell from the car, lost in the crowd. Without thinking, the other yelled and then jumped after his friend. And then he was gone, too. 

“Crap.”

“Rest in peace, old chaps,” Baekhyun murmured, looking over his shoulder. And then crashed the car. 

“Baekhyun!” you shouted angrily. Junmyeon hoisted you out of the car, not wasting a moment, but the six of you were trapped. The mind controlled men were coming at you from all three streets. You were blocked in against one of the walls of the city. 

“It's the creature,” Professor Bey whispered. You frowned, unable to see past the ones that surrounded the group. Then you saw him. 

Imhotep. 

“He’s fully regenerated.”

Not a single spec of mummified skin remained. He’d gotten to the Americans. 

Stepping closer as the crowd pushed in, he started speaking in the ancient language, lapdog Beni right behind. 

“Come with me, my princess,” Beni translated with a false sense of superiority. “It is time to make you mine. Forever.”

You scoffed. “For all eternity. Idiot.”

Imhotep spoke again, this time with his hand outstretched.

“Take my hand and I shall spare your friends.”

You looked around for any chance of escape. There was none. “Just wonderful.” You turned to Junmyeon, who was slowly putting himself between you and the mummy. “Any good ideas?”

His face was twisted and his eyes darted from left to right. “I’m thinking. I’m thinking.” 

“Good. Keep thinking and think of something fast. Because if he turns me into a mummy, you’re the first one I’m coming after.”

Junmyeon’s eyes snapped to you, wide with shock. “No!” But you were out of arm’s reach before he could stop you. He pulled a gun and pointed it at Imhotep, ready to fire. Sehun and Ardeth both managed to stop him. 

“He has to take me to Hamunaptra,” you explained. “In order to perform the ritual.” With your eyes, you tried to add in the rest. Follow us there, get the book, and I’ll read it. 

“She’s got a point,” Sehun said. “If we live today, we can fight tomorrow.”

Junmyeon hesitated, then lowered his gun. You held his gaze, trying to let him know silently what you were feeling in this moment. That you were glad to have met him. And you wished the two of you had more time. 

“We’ll see each other again,” he promised. 

With an arm around your shoulders, Imhotep led you away. The sound of Junmyeon saying your name reached your ears and you almost ran back to him. 

“Hey, that’s mine!” Baekhyun yelled. Running up next to you, Beni tossed the octagonal key to the books in the air. Well, that wasn’t necessarily a good thing. 

Gripping your arm tighter, Imhotep gave out one final order. “Kill them all!”

“No!” You fought and kicked and tugged to get away. “Let go of me! Junmyeon! Baekhyun!” It was no use. As you looked back behind you, all you could see was the crowd closing in on them. 

**

You traveled for what felt like hours in the sandstorm of Imhotep. When you were finally deposited onto the sand, rolling in it from the momentum and getting it everywhere, you managed to open your eyes and see where he had decided to stop. You were right outside of the city of the dead. You were back. 

A loud buzzing noise caught your attention. Looking up into the sky, you saw an old fashioned pedal plane carrying more people than it was built for. You smile. “Mr. Kim.”

After walking a few paces ahead, Imhotep raised his arms and called up a sandstorm so large, it blocked out the sky. Forming into a face, it ruched at the tiny plane. And then the storm swallowed it whole. 

“No!”

The sandstorm dissipated and the plane was no longer visible. Imhotep smirked then walked towards the city. You had no choice but to follow. 

You were going to die. 

That didn’t stop you from following the mummy down into the depths of the temple, your glare switching from Imhotep’s back to Beni, who walked beside you. 

“Your face will stay like that,” Beni warned. How childish. 

“And nasty little boys like yourself always get their comeuppance,” you shot back.

Beni stopped in his tracks. “They do?”

You smirked. How stupid. You did believe that he would get his own form of punishment for helping the ancient priest - you just hoped that it was sooner rather than later. 

Down in the main chamber of the temple, a loud noise stopped Imhotep mid chant. Taking one of the sacred jars, he emptied the ash-like substance into his hand and then blew on it, letting the particles drift through the air. Then he spoke out a spell and mummified bodies ripped themselves free from their walled-in prisons, leaving behind deep human-shaped impressions among the hieroglyphics. 

“Kill them and wake the others,” Imhotep ordered. Turning back to you and Beni, he nodded at the latter, who then forced you down onto the stone slab next to a pit that at first you thought was water, but the liquid was too thick and too black, like ink. You were too focused on the substance to notice Imhotep’s hand coming near your face. He spoke a single word and your vision went black. 

It could have only been a minute that you were out, but it was enough time for your wrists and ankles to be tied down and the sacred jars to be lined up against your side.  Seeing a strange lump out of the corner of your left eye, you turned. 

Then screamed. 

The mummified body of who could only have been Anck-Su-Namun was lying right next to you, ready to be revived. You fought and tugged at your restraints, desperate to get away, to put distance between you and the woman who killed the pharaoh. One by one, the resurrected priests circled the slab, fell to their knees, and began chanting as they bowed. Imhotep stepped up, the black book in his hands. He caressed the side of the mummy’s face lovingly. Despite the reality of the situation, a small part of you couldn’t help but be in awe of his devotion. All of this, for his love. 

That didn’t mean you wanted to help. 

“Junmyeon! Baekhyun! Sehun!” One of them. Any of them! Please, just let one of them get in here with the book!

From the pit, the inky substance rose, formless, shapeless as it drifted through the air, over you and settled into the body. Imhotep finished the enchantment and the mummy came to life with a shrieking gasp. It turned and looked at you with knowing eyes. The scream of pure terror was ripped from your throat. 

No, no, no, no!

Appearing on the other side of you, Imhotep said one last time that with your death, Anck-Su-Namun would live. He raised a dagger with both hands and let it hover over your heart for just a beat. 

“I found the book of Amun-Ra! I found it, cousin!” 

Standing at the top of the large stone staircase, Baekhyun waved a giant book of gold over his head, the proudest grin shining from his face, visible even from this distance. 

Imhotep hesitated, lowering the dagger. 

“Fantastic, now shut up and help me off of here!” you shouted back. “You have to open the book! Open it!”

Like in a trance, Imhotep walked around the slab, placing the dagger down next to Anck-Su-Namun, and continued towards the stairs. 

“I can’t open it! It needs the key!”

“His robes!” You motioned towards Imhotep with your head. “It’s in his robes!”

With Imhotep coming closer, Baekhyun took off down the hallway that had led him here. Out of the shadows the opposite way, Junmyeon jumped out, swinging a large golden sword at the priests. Sehun wasn’t far behind with a sword of his own. Toegher, the two of them cut the mummies into pieces. With everyone distracted, you worked at the ropes around your wrists that had loosened in your many struggles, freeing the right one first and then moving onto your ankles. Only the left wrist was left to be freed, but this one was choosing to be difficult. 

“Are you alright?” Junmyeon asked as he took down another priest. 

“For the most part,” you answered, jangling your hand. Junmyeon lifted the sword to cut it free but suddenly fell from view. The upper bodies of the priests had grabbed hold of him and were holding him down so another could get close enough to drop the giant rock it was carrying onto his head. “Junmyeon!”

Junmyeon struggled to reach the sword he had dropped. Sehun was too busy with his own fight to notice his cousin needed help. You tried for the weapon yourself but it was too far out of reach. A disembodied hand was crawling with its fingers across the floor. When it wrapped its palm around the hilt of the sword, Junmyeon managed to grab the arm and swing at the mummy holding the stone, taking its legs out from under it. It fell backwards, squishing itself comically. He took care of the others and freed himself. He cut the bindings from your wrist and helped you off the slab. “Better late than never, right?”

“We’ll reevaluate that later.”

Baekhyun emerged from a side corridor. Oh, thank goodness. As if he were reading the Sunday paper, he studied the front of the book. “Cousin, I found an inscription here. Rash- Rasheem oola… kashka!”

A pair of doors burst open and out marched mummified soldiers with shields and spears. 

“Oh, wonderful.” At least you weren’t the only one who mucked up by reading out loud. 

Two by two, they came out until there were ten now facing you, Junmyeon, and Sehun. 

“This just keeps getting better and better,” Sehun muttered angrily.

“Baekhyun, do something,” you begged.

“Me?” Baekhyun squeaked as he backed up against a pillar. 

“Yes, you! You raised them! You can control them!”

“You’re joking, right?”

The soldiers marched on, coming in closer. You weren’t armed and you doubted Junmyeon and Sehun could hold all of them off. “Finish the inscription on the cover, you idiot!”

“Oh! Right!” Baekhyun scrambled to hide behind the pillar. 

Focused on the enemy in front of you, the one that had just been resurrected had been left forgotten. 

Anck-Su-Namun snatched you away from behind just as the mummified soldiers pounced. You managed to get out of her grip and were now playing a rather unfun game of tag while she chased you with the ceremonial dagger, keen on killing you herself so she could be fully revived. 

“Baekhyun, hurry up, please!”

“I can’t figure out this last symbol!”

“What does it look like!” You ran around the pillars and figures, lucky that you still had all of your ligaments to move quickly with. But Anck-Su-Namun had caught on and cut you off from around a corner, clutching your neck as you fought to keep the dagger away from your heart. 

“Its… its, uh… a bird!” Baekhyun started flapping an arm in a wing-like motion. “No! A stork!”

You pushed the air past your throat to give him the answer. “Ahmenophus!”

“Ah! That makes sense!” He read over the sentence again before yelling, “Hootash im ahmenophus!”

With a kick to her brittle rips, you managed to break free from Anck-Su-Namun right as the mummy soldiers froze. Right on time, too, as it seemed both Junmyeon and Sehun were about to be impaled. You ran to Baekhyuun and ripped the book out of his hands. “Give that to me!” Turning back to the one who had tried to kill you, you said, “Fa-kooshka, Anck-Su-Namum!”

The soldiers didn’t move as Anck-Su-Namun stalked closer. 

“Oh, fine!” You motioned for Baekhyun, who very smugly repeated the order. The soldiers backed off Junmyeon and Sehun, going for their new prey as Imhotep tried to stop them with his own shouting. It didn’t work. He watched in horror as, for the second time, his love was taken from him. All you saw was the soldiers surrounding her, then stabbing. She shrieked in pain and then was once again… silent

Imhotep roared in anger. He swept up sand as he turned on you and Baekhyun, vowing death to you both. Junmyeon ran up from behind and cut off one of his arms, getting his attention instead. The robes slipped from Imhotep’s body as he picked up the severed arm and reattached it, stepping determinedly in Junmyeon’s direction. 

The robes. 

The key! 

You hurried forward, eyes never leaving Imhotep in case he remembered what he had left behind. It took a moment of searching the folds of black, tattered fabric, but eventually you found the key. “Keep him busy!” you told Junmyeon. 

“Yeah, no problem,” was grunted back to you.  

Inserting the key, you twisted it three times until the claws clicked open. You flipped through the heavy slabs, eyes constantly on the search for the right inscription. There was so much here. So much knowledge, so much history, you were getting distracted. 

Save Junmyeon! You told yourself. Stay focused and save Junmyeon!

“Hurry!” Baekhyun urged. 

You growled back, “You’re not helping!”

Imhotep now had Junmyeon by the throat, feet off the ground and face turning purple. You were running out of time!

There! “I have it! Kadeesh mal! Kadeesh mal! Pared oos! Pared oos!”

A wind from nowhere kicked up through the air. From the top of the staircase, a ghostly horse-drawn carriage came sailing in, down the stairs and straight for him.

Horrified and knowing exactly what was headed his way, Imhotep dropped Junmyeon and tried to run. But the carriage was faster. 

It barreled through him, taking with it a translucent outline of himself, rounding the room before trotting back up the staircase and through the purplish wormhole that it had come from. Imhotep chased after it as if he could steal what was stolen from him back. But that was impossible. 

Junmyeon picked up his dropped sword and scrambled to you, weapon high for the next round of the fight. “I thought you said that would kill him.”

Imhotep stomped forward, eyes fixed on your group. So focused on his target that he never saw Sehun come in from behind and stab his own sword through Imhotep’s back. 

 You smirked. “He’s mortal now.”

He stared down at the blade that was protruding from his stomach. Staggering, his eyes were round from shock, little by little the light of life fading. His feet shuffled closer to the pit’s edge until he finally fell in and sunk beneath the surface. As he faded from view, his skin disintegrated until he was back in the form that you first found him. Words echoed around as he gave one last message. Handing the book back to Baekhyun, you translated it for the others. 

“Death… is only the beginning.”

“Thank god that’s over,” Baekhyun sighed. 

You squeezed his shoulder, thankful to whomever that he was alive. That you all were. “We should get out of here.”

“Where’s Beni?” Sehun asked as he surveyed the room. Oh, right. You’d nearly forgotten about him. 

“Probably halfway back to Cairo with a bag full of gold,” Junmyeon said bitterly. 

Then, suddenly, the walls began to tremble, sand fell in falls from the ceiling 

“Time to go!” Junmyeon grabbed your hand and headed for the exit. Baekhyun, who was leading in front, slipped on a pile of sand as he crossed one of the bridges. You watched in horror as the book flew from his hands and into the water, sinking beyond retrieval. 

“You lost the book! How could you lose the book!”

“Oh, come on!” All three yelled at you. Nothing could be done. The Book of Amun-Ra was lost. You’d cry about it later. 

Navigating the halls, sand and walls were falling all around you, seeking to trap you in. Junmyeon led the group through a giant room filled with gold. Baekhyun whimpered at all the treasure he was able to take with him, but at least he kept running. 

“Wait for me! Wait for me!”

As you left the hall of gold, you turned to see Beni running after you. The ceiling above was slowly lowering. If he didn’t pick it up, he’d be trapped forever. A small opening barely big enough for a human was starting to sink beneath the floor. Baekhyun made it through. Sehun made it through. You made it through. 

Junmyeon came in last, sliding across the sand and then flipping over, his hand reaching out towards Beni, who was still a good ten or fifteen feet away. “Come on, come on, come on!” Hate him or not, Junmyeon would try to help. But Beni didn’t make it and the opening disappeared. Junmyeon sighed. Then shrugged. “Bye-bye, Beni.”

He jumped up to his feet and rejoined the group. 

Finally outside, the columns and temples were also falling, causing you all to zig-zag all around the city as it crumbled to the ground. The sand beneath your feet shook. You made it out of the city’s boundary. When you were far enough out of the blast zone, you stopped and watched as what was once a great archeological find sink into the sand, never to be seen again. 

Baekhyun screamed out of nowhere. You panicked, thinking Imhotep wasn’t truly dead. But then you saw the shadow. And then the camel. And then the man riding it. 

“Ardeth!” You were so happy to see him alive! You had been so worried about getting out yourself, you hadn’t been able to ask the others what had happened to him. 

“Thank you for that heart attack,” Baekhyun scolded as he rubbed his chest. He would be fine. If the wine and women hadn’t killed him yet, you were sure he would live through this. 

Ardeth bowed his head. “From me and my people, you have earned our respect and gratitude.”

Baekhyun chuckled, waving it off with false modesty. “Well… it was nothing.”

“Speak for yourself,” Sehun muttered as he spat dirt from his mouth. 

Ardeth grinned then clicked his tongue to urge the camel on. 

Shaking his head, Baekhyun turned back to the flat surface that used to be Hamunaptra. “Wonderful. We go home empty-handed. Again.”

Junmyeon looked down at you and with the softest expression, disagreed. “I wouldn’t say that.”

Heat bloomed on your cheeks as his meaning sunk in. Sehun understood as well, rolling his eyes and turning away. Cupping your jaw with his fingers, Junmyeon leaned in and kissed you deeply, pulling you in closer.

Yes, he was right. You were truly walking away with the adventure of a lifetime.

[bat-besties]

Sweet Dreams are Made of This

(Who am I to disagree?)

Deceit/Remy - cuddling for warmth - Space (but not the personal kind)

3k words.

Edited by the wonderful @mariniacipher. 

~

In an isolated expanse of space many light-years away, all is silent and cold. A mere buzzing, as if of gnats, is suggested more than actually heard in the freezing vacuum. 

Three ships are flying very quickly through a comet formation. Two are quiet, not even humming with machinery, deathly and still. They hunt the third with deadly precision. And in the third-

"Right! More right! Go-"

"Can you give me an actual direction- nearer the T-16 system or that-"

"Gurl, we ain't taking the Polar Express to the North Pole-"

"Ssssshut up!"

"Near that rock, near the rock-"

"They're all bloody rocks!"

A human in sunglasses swung his seat around to fire at the ships chasing. He replied in fluent Common, though he kept the cadence of an American teenager to it. "In and out, they said. Like, this wasn't easy. I broke a nail picking the locks-"

"Oh, because human nails never grow back." What we would describe as a humanoid snake sat in the pilot's seat; he would describe the human as a mammal-like Serpentis who’d lost his scales.

"Every time we work together something goes wrong-"

"But you just keep coming back for more, don't you, darling?"

"Calm down, babe, I'll get us out of this one again."

"Just like in Andromeda?"

"Shut up about Andromeda already! We-"

Something shook the ship. They quietened for a moment before the human spoke up again. "If my precious Britney Spears has been damaged-"

"Ssssssss," the Serpentis hissed.

"Fuck you too!" the human replied in English.

The Serpentis flipped a switch. "I'm taking it into warp-drive. Keep them off our tail."

"Get off my tail-" the human grumbled before shooting several lasers in rapid succession behind them.

"What? What does that even mean?"

The human had already lost interest, absorbing himself in shooting and flipping from Common to some human tongue. "Fuck you, robot! Fuck the federation! Fucking-"

The Serpentis focused on flying as the human picked off their enemies, shooting them into safety.

~

Remy sighed, rubbing his eyes under his sunglasses. "Thank fuck that's over. I'm going to rest for a bit, don't fuck everything up while I'm gone."

"Since you asked so delightfully." Dee yawned, revealing gleaming white fangs. "I'm taking us closer to a star, get some light..."

"No way."

"What?"

"Do you think after stealing a gem that big going into civilised areas is a good ideal? Do you? Do you really?"

"Get your fangs out of the wood-block and relax."

Remy responded as he usually did to space idioms, insults, or words he wasn't too sure of: "‘Fuck you’, Dee."

"I'm merely observing that you should calm down," Dee said tersely. "Especially since your reckless behaviour was what triggered the guards-"

"You're attacking me for a little mistake like-"

"You always do sssstupid-"

"Don't hiss at me-"

"At least I ssspeak Common without human slang-"

Remy's expression closed off. "Fuck. You." He spoke in a monotone, his usual phrase delivered with the hardness it originated with.

"Is that all you can say?" Dee spoke calmly but his hands were still slightly shaking with adrenaline, so he tightened them on the wheel.

A passive-aggressive smile crossed Remy's face. "I can say what I like on my ship, can't I? And whose ship is this?"

"We almost got caught back there. You're reckless, your ship is a pile of junk, and I wouldn't work with you if I didn't have to. Get to sleep, and don't tell me where to fly your ship if I'm in the pilot's seat. We'll wait for 300, then I'll start taking us down to trade. As soon as we sell that gem I'm out of here."

Remy turned his back, standing in the doorway with one hand rested against his ship. "Have fun hitchhiking with your face plastered all over the Fed’s channels."

Dee didn't deign that with a response. 

After a moment, he heard Remy leave. His tongue flickered between his teeth in irritation as he got up to adjust the thermostat. Not having the controls on the wheel, as they would be on any Serpentis ship, was yet another design flaw with Britney Spears.

He turned it all the way up, much hotter than Remy liked (honestly, he was like a grandpa with his fuel use for warmth) and got back to his seat.

About ten minutes later, he began to feel himself become drowsy, so he dragged himself back up to go and check on the main heater. Worry curled at the back of his mind, the memory of the crash- but he was sure it was nothing.

It was not, in fact, nothing. The whole system was fritzed. Dee held the back of his hand to the cylinder, but he only felt fading warmth, like a rock left in the sun. "Szzzzzzzzkssssss*."

(*this is not translated for the sake of politeness)

He could’ve probably dealt with a standard issue ship, but Britney Spears wasn't standard issue, it was a glorified bucket. He considered asking Remy for help, running over the cadences of 'your piece of shit ship is broken', but decided he could most likely deal with it himself. 

He was just really, really tired. He wouldn't give Remy the satisfaction of seeing him so out of it. He went down to the engine room to see if he could soak up some heat there.

Stumbling down the steps, the residual heat from the engines washing over him hardly helped. Trust Remy to only insulate his engines, prioritising speed of getaway over any type of comfort.

Dee slumped down to sit leaning his back against the silvery foam, head lolling back behind him to hit it too. Just...a few moments and he'd get up and get the useless human. Just a few moments. 

~

Remy woke up from his sleep because of the cold. He screwed up his face and scrunched up his body under his blanket, turning over. Tucking the thin fleece under his feet, he began to drift again despite a slight shiver, grateful for the warmth provided by the material.

Wait, that was- and he wasn't that happy about it- one of the thinnest blankets on the ship, the thinnest, in fact. He had it because the Serpentis liked the ship warm- 

His eyes snapped open. This was much, much too cold for Dee.

He kicked the blanket off and pulled his leather jacket back on, puffing out some air from his mouth experimentally. He could only just about discern it, so it wasn't as bad as it could be. Dee wouldn’t let the temperature drop this low- Remy’s mind jumped to the worst case scenario- intruders of some sort. It was unlikely, but he hadn’t gotten this far by knowing when to rein in his recklessness- no, ma’am!

He reached for his laser-shooter and toed his shoes off so he could move quietly through the ship. Padding through to the engine room, he found the pilot seat empty- and the thermostat turned fully up. "Use up my fuel why don't you-" he complained under his breath.

Then to the heater: broken. Crap. 

The generators were up, and the engine was still running, but he'd have to check the back of the ship. Worr- curiosity about Dee was also beginning to build.

Holding his laser-shooter out in front of him, he headed down to the engine room.

Dee was slumped by the insulation. His eyes were open, but sightless.

Remy felt a lot of things, but he focused on that, sliding the sunglasses off his own head and gently sliding them over Dee's. "Don't like that. Eyelids, please."

He tilted his head and looked at Dee's chest slowly rising and falling in sleep. The sunglasses made it look worse, somehow, as if this was something Remy had done to make fun of him. As if this was all his fault.

Remy shrugged his leather jacket off with a shiver, tucking it over Dee's body. "Probably the coolest he's ever looked in his life-" His undercurrent of humour didn't even convince himself, but speaking meant one thought at one time and some kind of plan instead of the silence from the other thief. 

"Crap, blanket, should I run and- don't want to leave him- he's not going to move, let's get the-"

His feet pounded up the stairs. He pulled the thickest blanket from the drawer under his bunk, a thick Saeranian quilt from a museum somewhere on Nemos, and ran back down to cocoon Dee in it.

Remy went back a few paces. He sat on his haunches, watching Dee. He had never liked waiting. 

"Wake up. Come on. That quilt it’s, like...a queen wove it for her husband, or something. That has queen hands on it. You're not a king, you're a reprobate... It's really expensive- maybe you could sell it when we touch down?- I want to get new supplies- maybe some new Nemorian music. If they're not still, like, pissed about me stealing the quilt, but they stole it first- embarrassing, tbh. Do you think if I return it to Saeran, I'll get, like, a medal? Nah, the Fed reaches there too, but...maybe I'll find some human music. It's not so far from the Milky Way. A few months..." He popped to his feet, beginning to pace. "Ok, sleeping beauty, I'm not kissing you, so you better start waking up. Or I'm going to start singing." 

When he did, his voice wobbled.

"Maybe I could put some insulation around you-" Remy paused. "Crap, crap, holy fuck! The insulation keeps in the warm, he ain't making the warm!"

He ran his hand through his hair, looking around the room. As if there was something a handy heat source there. Well, he wasn't warm, he was fucking freezing in his T-shirt. But, Remy guessed, since he wasn't unconscious yet...

Gingerly, he slid the sunglasses off Dee. He bit his lip, considering the options- "I'm taking my shirt off," which he did, "you lucky bitch. And my jacket. You keep your shirt, or whatever."

"I don't want to be clingy-" he began to untuck the quilt from the other thief, then sat down by Dee. "But I'm going to-" He scooted up, scrunching his nose up at the feeling of cold scales against his skin, then tucked the quilt back around them. 

"And, uh-" he tucked an arm around Dee, pulling the Serpentis in front of his chest. "I should take your shirt off, but the 'dinner first' rule doesn't apply when the last dinner you bought me was too spicy for humans."

Entangling their legs for maximum skin-to-skin contact, Remy tucked his chin over the quilt, rested his head on Dee's shoulder, and focused on being as warm as possible.

~

Dee woke up to a fragile warmth, like a hesitant sunrise over the deep cold of the desert night. His heartbeat was slow, but consistent. The numbness receded from his fingers. Sleepy, but awake; vulnerable, but safe.

Then he realised that his vision was dimmed. And that something was over his face. "Wha'ssss happening?"

"Uh," a quiet voice came from under his chin. "So, don't freak, but you were like, dying. And I had to make sure you didn't fucking die. So, here we are."

Dee tried to move his toes a little, before realising there was a weight over his legs, and an arm on his chest- and something warm behind him- What-

He pulled the sunglasses off to see a very shirtless, very close Remy cuddled against his chest. There was also a blanket. "Are you..." he said with as much dignity as he could in his semi-somnolent state, "cuddling me?"

Remy gave an awkward, obviously fake laugh. "And what about it?"

Dee was too tired to think through that. He tucked the sunglasses back onto Remy's head. "Not...sssstill mad?"

"Babe, I'm not mad enough to kill you. Like, if I wanted to kill you, I'd shoot you and dump you out the airlock, not leave you here to pollute Britney." Remy shrugged, and the sensation of his muscles shifting next to Dee's skin sent a shiver down his spine. "Even if you did insult her."

"It's a ship," Dee said, subdued still, "Not a person."

"She's a she-" Remy bit back the ‘fuck you’ on his tongue. "Bitch."

Dee hissed a little laugh, like steam leaking out of an engine.

"Are you feeling warm enough now?" Remy asked. "Because we have repairs to do."

Dee shook his head, tucking his head against Remy's chest. "Sleepy. Tired. I forgot the Common word for a moment."

Remy's laugh shook through his chest. "Don't try and hide it. Man, I'm never going to let you live this down."

Dee tensed up slightly. "What, taking my shirt off and getting cuddly with an unconscious bounty hunter, wrapped in a priceless quilt I'm too dumb to know the worth of? Or flying a bucket so bad she doesn't have backup heaters?"

"I'd say you look cuter when you’re asleep, but you do look like a corpse. I wish I had a photo-"

"What, because I don't have those creepy skin-curtains?"

Remy lifted up his sunglasses to wink. "These?"

Dee recoiled. "Simply delightful. Flawless design feature. Never flap just the one of those in my presence again."

"How else would I flirt?"

Dee fixed a look of disdain on Remy. "That's how humans flirt? That's disgusting."

Remy winked again. "Hey, good-looking," he said in English. As he slid his sunglasses back on, he wolf-whistled for good measure.

"Yikes. Is that a mating call?"

"Basically. More like 'Ooo, you're hot'."

Dee wiggled his neck up to look at him scathingly. "But I am cold."

"Attractive! Sorry, hot is a word for attractive in my human language."

"Please stop flirting with me."

"You're so cute and sleepy," Remy said in English.

"’You’ is half of 'fuck you'," Dee said. "And you once said ‘cute’ at... some pretty bags?"

"Look at 'you', all smart and shit. 'Nerd'- that means nerd."

"Szzzzzkssss."

"Szzzzkzzzz."

"That's north, try again. Szzzksssss. It's a swear."

"Szzz-k-shhh."

"Close enough."

Remy grinned. "I'm so fucking smart."

"With an intellect like that, you must have picked up Common in no time?"

Remy laughed, but Dee didn't feel his chest rumble like before.

"Where did you learn it?  I heard the human schools tend to be pretty shitty."

"I practiced."

Dee paused, shifting closer to Remy. "Where do you come from?"

"Why are you a thief?"

Dee laughed. "I want to take things."

"I wanted to leave where I was."

"Why's your ship called Britney Spears?" Dee asked quietly. “Do you know her?”

Remy laughed. "Know her? I'm her best friend. We're so tight, Britney and me."

"I feel like you're being sarcastic."

"She's a singer, babe, a famous singer."

"Ah."

They lapsed into silence, breathing slowly syncing as it condensed in the air before them. Remy blew his out like cigarette smoke, but Dee's wasn't warm enough to yet. Then Dee shifted. "I'm still not awake enough- I might need to sleep like this, if the autopilot will last long enough."

Remy checked a watch on his wrist. "Okay. An hour or so, then I'll start the repairs."

Dee cuddled back into Remy. He felt he should have said something, but wasn't sure what was left to say. The human's eyes closed.

As he drifted off, he realised there wasn't much to say about the episode at all, and it would be another silent beat between them, an invisible complication in their already complex relationship. 

Dee pressed himself to Remy's chest, and heard his heart speed up, and wondered where he was dreaming of running to.

[missytearex]

To Read List - Narry

This list is purely for myself to keep track of everything I still want to read. Its gonna change as I actually read though them and find more stuff to add.

Find fics I’ve already read here.

Narry

It Feels Like Years by wasp

It's easy to stop thinking, worrying, when he's with Niall, like it's all on instinct. (Community college!AU where basically Niall and Harry fall in love and there's kittens and cuddling for warmth and woo-ing and Liam and Louis are hopeless).

good enough to eat by brokendrums

Niall meets Harry on the set of Masterchef and is instantly attracted to him, even if he is a bit of a dick and far too smug for his own good. He finally cracks his determined exterior and a pretty mind blowing set of blowjobs later they start tentatively seeing each other, only Harry is far too invested in the competition and he just doesn’t have time for distractions like Niall

A MasterChef AU.

does it almost feel like nothing changed at all by estrella30

“You don’t have room to talk,” Louis says, pointing a finger at Harry and narrowing his eyes. “Seeing as how you were seventy five million years late to the meeting today.”

“Well I’m bloody well here now!” Harry shouts. Everyone goes quiet, Zayn even manages to pause whatever Robert Downey Jr. is doing on the telly, and it’s right then, in the middle of the first split second of quiet since Harry arrived that he hears it.

“Wait,” Harry says, cocking his head to the side and listening more closely. “Is that a baby crying?”

OR: Niall gets a baby left w him and Harry moves in to help him take care of her

And Maybe by CharacterDevelopment

“I want to kiss you,” Harry says slowly and nerve-wrackingly honest.

Niall blinks at him. “What?”

“Kissing. I want to kiss you, put our lips together, do the mouth tango, play tonsil hockey—”

Niall interrupts him. “I know what kissing is, Harry.”

“Well, you asked,” Harry says, defensive.

Broken-Hearted Boy by NarryMusings

Niall has watched Harry get his heart broken time after time, again and again. Harry just wants someone to love him. But Niall has always loved him and now that he's finally fed up with Harry not seeing it, Niall tells him.

If We Don't Leave This Town by EvilFriendOfMine

Harry moves to London and begins working at a small bookstore, when a blond-haired, blue-eyed Irishman runs into the store to hide from some no-so-friendly looking men. A relationship sparks but it's anything but easy as Harry has to deal with Niall being a key member of the London Irish Crew, along with his two friends, Louis and Liam. But Niall dreams of getting out one day and taking his friends and Harry with him, but leaving is a lot harder than any of them ever thought it would be.

a little drop for me by littlemissmeggie

Niall was amazed how much had changed in a year, how it didn’t hurt anymore. He’d been drowning in heartache and pain for months and suffocated by the weight of his sorrow.

And then he’d met Harry and been scared and heartbroken again, worried to love and hesitant to be loved. But Harry hadn’t left. He’d showed Niall what unconditional love—romantic unconditional love—felt like, whether out of naive innocence or stubborn determination, Niall wasn’t sure.

or...

If anyone asked Niall how he thought he would meet the love of his life, he wouldn’t have said that he expected to find him lying naked on the beach when he went for a walk at sunrise while on holiday.

future full of yesterdays by fliptomybside

Niall studies astrophysics, Harry studies Niall.

the parting line by from

Harry and Niall get married for a year to save twelve-thousand jobs (and maybe a couple of lives).

feels like home by outwardbound93

Harry shouldn’t feel so much like a little boy tucked into his sister’s side when he spent most of last night twined around Niall in his bed, competing to see who could get the other off more times. But growing up doesn’t seem to work like that. It’s not a switch that gets flicked, it’s like seeing where you want to go and building yourself a bridge to that place. Sometimes where you end up is nothing like you expected, and sometimes it’s like coming home.

out of the woods by countthestars

“Hi,” the boy says, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the counter, body language open in invitation. Niall half expects him to tip his chin up and bare his throat, but instead his smile grows wider, pulling crookedly at his mouth.

Niall's Kitchen by countthestars

Niall and Harry both have youtube cooking channels, and accidentally become rivals. An epistolary fic, of sorts.

must have been the mistletoe by countthestars

“Hey, Harry,” Niall says, voice low and conspiratorial. “Look up.”

“What?” Harry whispers back, because there's a lot to look at up there, blinking lights and boughs of garland and... “is that mistletoe?”

“'Fraid so,” Niall confirms. His lips twitch like he's fighting a smile, but he keeps a straight face as he taps his finger against his mouth. “It's bad luck not to kiss someone underneath mistletoe.”

hold me closer tiny dancer by countthestars

Dancing isn't really Harry's strong suit. Niall doesn't really care.

The Quiet Things That No One Ever Knows by KelliDiane

Unlike other kids of successful, wealthy parents Harry isn't skating by on good looks. Nor is he fifty piña coladas deep in Hawaii. Instead he spends his time learning, whether it's by reading a mountain of texts or hands on at his father's lab. There's an unspoken understanding between his father and himself that he'll take control of the company when his father no longer can. Harry would rather be well versed when he does, science really does interest him. If it interests him because it's genuinely cool or if it interests him because his father pays some kind of attention to him, well.

or

Another superpowers fic that nobody asked for.

remember that time on the bus by estrella30

“Yeah, sure,” Harry says. He smiles and shrugs happily. “I’m good with that.” He gestures to himself on the couch. “You want to like—like now?”

“No! Not now, I mean. One day. In the future.” Niall chews on his thumb and shrugs. “When we’re bored or something.”

Harry snorts a quiet laugh. Only Niall would think shagging a mate would be a good way to kill some time when bored on the bus.

Well. All right. It’s not as if the thought’s never crossed Harry’s mind.

or: harry and niall start shagging

stay, stay, stay. . . (stay.) by badjujuboo (miztrezboo)

Niall keeps a gun by the bed now.

Harry doesn't think Niall knows he knows.

OR an au of the on the streets/gangland type description, drug and alcohol use, violence offscreen, past rough sex (barely mentioned), romantic sex (because we need both sides), somewhat discussed unprotected sex, guns and being shot at and shot, and minor character death (because its a gangland fic and i'm sorry?)

show me by zouee

"i was thinking..." harry begins, scratching the back of his neck hesitantly. he feels niall's eyes on him and his cheeks start to feel hot. "what if we made a sex tape?"

the one where niall and harry are roommates who are close to broke, and are desperate to do anything for money.

high on a pleasure wheel by brokendrums

Niall wakes up the morning after the Billboard Awards married to Harry. Too hungover to face the media storm, he takes up Harry’s offer to drive him home to LA.

the taste was sweeter by brokendrums

On his 18th birthday, Niall travels into the future and ends up meeting his 24 year old self.

only talk about a bruise by brokendrums

With the eclipse fast approaching, the pack is thrown into crisis. New to it all, Harry tries to find his place.

see me in a new light by brokendrums

Niall joins the production team for Planet Earth II and Harry has an interesting proposition.

my remedy for yesterday by brokendrums

It’s been three years since One Direction finally parted ways. Three long years where Niall’s stayed away from home on a never ending holiday. Three years since he’s seen Harry in the flesh and not just splashed across the tabloids or overplayed on the radio.

Niall’s just docked his boat in Ibiza, ready to soak up the sun, when an unexpected accident brings Harry into his life again. And while Niall recuperates on Harry’s patch of sandy white beach old feelings start to emerge, not all of them pleasant.

If we dream forever, whatever happens next by brokendrums

Niall meets Harry on the train and can't stop thinking about him. Then one evening when they get off the train, Harry invites him back to his.

all of the places i ain't ever been by theamazingpeterparker

Harry takes his dinner back to his bedroom, determined to chip away at his book that he came here to write. He’s not sure what it really is yet but he knows he wants it to be in the countryside, maybe a love story without the distractions of a city or a corporate job or a huge population to get in the way.

Or, Harry rents a room on a farm in exchange for working as a farmhand.

something softer than us by theamazingpeterparker

He almost told him then, leaning forward like the thought hit him with enough force that he'd say it out loud. He had bit his tongue, let Niall carry on his explanation against the backdrop of a setting sun across the river from the ballpark. Harry supposes then that he'd loved Niall for a long time now, anyway.

Niall's cat's name is Lunchbox, Louis has definitely been in love, Zayn won't shut up about the Antonine Plague, and Harry doesn't know how to tell Niall that he's in love with him.

dear, i'm always running towards you by goreallegore

He blocks it all out, the cheers, the profanities of overzealous fans from the opposing team, and focuses on one thing, a soft gravelly voice, “Good things take time.”

Or; Niall plays for FC Barcelona, and Harry's a photographer.

a better beginning by goreallegore

Zayn and Liam are attached to the hip, Louis is always putting his foot where it's not needed, and Niall and Harry are ever so quietly in love.

a rising tide like an hour glass by goreallegore

Harry climbs over him, his legs slotting on either sides of Niall, his body flush against Niall’s. He nibbles on Niall’s lowerlip, then licks the seam of his mouth and causes him to elicit a soft - needy - moan. No feelings in the Glade, Niall remembers. Or, he doesn’t. It’s all kind of a haze to be honest.

Or; Niall and Harry are runners.

cook up a recipe for my beating heart by goreallegore

“So, what say wanna live with me? I’ll cook Sunday breakfasts,” Niall says.

“And I’ll make your favorite pastry,” Harry replies.

“Tarte Tartin.” Cause that’s what their love is. A bit of sour and sweet.

Or; Niall and Harry cook.

can't believe I captured your heart by goreallegore

Niall shrugs, “thanks, couldn’t bear living on campus after freshmen year. So moved in here my second year with me mate.”

Harry nods, pausing to repeat Niall’s words in his head, “wait, you’re not a second year?” Please don’t say senior. Please.

“Third year.” Thank god.

Harry sighs in relief, “so ready for the movie?”

Or; Niall likes movies. And Harry is just trying to figure himself out.

baby, we're like a time bomb by goreallegore

“You know that frown thing doesn’t suit you. Look like a lost pug or summat,” he chuckles, his grip tight on the steering wheel.

“I like pugs,” Harry answers simply, and Niall has to turn and look at the boy next to him and it really shouldn’t surprise him because he has known this since day one, but Harry is beautiful. Even the frown that has found a new home on his always smiling face looks pretty – could call it painfully beautiful.

“I do too, though, I like happy ones. Don’t you?” he prods, and that does it as he turns, again, to find a smiling Harry, “there it is. I knew there was something missing.”

Harry ducks his head, avoiding Niall’s gaze, “you’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

“Flirting.”

Or; there are timers, but Harry and Niall are too in love to care.

the whole world is sleeping, but my world is you by goreallegore

“Say if I were to leave for forever, would it be okay?”

Niall reaches for Harry’s hand, intertwining their fingers as if the gaps between their fingers were made to be filled by each other, “Only if it makes you happy. ‘Sides, I’d probably follow you to ends of time. Can’t afford losing me best mate.” A slight blush decorates Niall’s cheeks and the dim lighting of the room makes the boy look – ethereal, Harry thinks. Harry is completely endeared by the sight before him.

Or; Harry lives his dreams and Niall helps him save them.

the name forever on my lips is yours by goreallegore

“What did you forget?” his voice was small, Niall was afraid that Harry might’ve not heard him but the look on his face said the opposite.

“I never clearly told you how I feel about you,” Harry stopped to pull out a journal from his back pocket, “I wrote about it you see.” He was holding a battered moleskin that seemed like it had ink all over it. Niall had seen it before but never dared to ask what it was; but now that Harry stood in front of him shyly flipping through the pages, he realized what it was. Niall felt like he was running short on air.

Or; Niall is a modern day Prince and Harry is no damsel in distress.

First Person by Gorgeous Nerd (gorgeousnerd)

Harry doesn't know why Niall wants to see him when he loses a year of memories. But Harry can't go anywhere else.

Follow You Through The Dark by disarm_d

Harry discovers that Niall is a vampire and has some valid concerns.

the mad ones (pool party remix) by irishmizzy, miss_bennie

Harry buys a car in NYC = OT5 road trip to LA. 24-hour diners, shit hotels, Polaroids, golf, line dancing, and too many people in the backseat: this is what dreams are made of.

Christmas Wishes by narrywings

Harry's hoping to go home for a quiet Christmas - but everything gets derailed when Niall calls unexpectedly.

It's Christmas. That Means We Have To Hold Hands. by holyzarrialltrinity

"As the day went on, Niall started worrying less about the way he felt. All he knew is that being around Harry made him feel happy. And being with him in the best city on Earth was even better. It made him forget for a moment about all the stuff back home. He just wanted to be with Harry for however long they had. There was some unspoken romance happening between the two of them and they both could tell. But instead of words, they just held hands really tight."

Niall hates his family. Harry barely has one. But when you spend time with someone new in the greatest city in the world, there's always room for a little change in your life.

love actually is all around by storuns

A small smile appears on Harry’s face and he scoots closer to Niall, resting his head on his shoulder. Niall wraps his arm around him and moves his hand up to rub his shoulder, earning a couple of coos from Louis and Liam across the table. Harry laughs and throws French fries at both of them. He looks up at Niall and grins as he watches him throw his head back in laughter. For some reason, a warm feeling overwhelms his chest and he feels like hugging Niall tightly and kissing all over his face. But, of course, he has control and all he can do is imagine it in his head.

Or the one where Harry and Niall go to Mullingar for Christmas, and stuff happens.

Time Has Brought Your Heart to Me by fakeheaux

Harry meets Niall, and feels a connection, so he gets to know him just a bit more.

Or the one where Harry and Niall are soulmates.

hear this heartbeat breaking through by acastle

He feels another shock of warmth, much more intense, much more overwhelming, as he looks at him. Watches Bailey cling on to this person tightly, laughing as he’s lifted off the ground. He doesn’t know how to describe it, but he’s sure. Very sure, that it is a positive feeling. He doesn’t know how to react to it, really.

(In which Harry is an amateur boxer, raising his son on his own after the hardest few months of his life, then he meets the piano teacher with a beautiful heart.)

a rush inside i can't control by dramaturgicallycorrect

all seems to stay for as long as he can -- that what it feels like to Harry, like Niall’s only ever there until he can’t be there anymore, until something’s tugging him away and he has to follow. Every day he seems to be able to stay longer, sometimes up to hours at a time before he’s tugged away. Every time he goes, Niall leaves his glasses on the kitchen table like a promise.

[Or Harry’s rented a cabin by the woods in Mullingar to write his new album and he doesn’t know that both of his muses are Niall.]

the world still turns by dramaturgicallycorrect

It’s not like he’s not seen any of them over the last eighteen months -- he has – but certainly not all once, not like the way it used to be. Not even the 2015 Way It Used To Be, because even before Zayn left they’d all pretty much tried to do their own thing. Like Just Starting Out Way It Used To Be when they were too scared to let go of each other because they didn’t have anybody else.

Niall had always had his family and the crew and all, but most days it felt like it was just the five of them and nobody else. And the world was laid out in front of them for the taking and they didn’t know who they were or who they wanted to be. Some days Niall still doesn’t know who he is or who he wants to be and he thinks that’s just as comforting as it is terrifying.

You’re not supposed to have it all figured out by age 23. He thinks people forget that sometimes.

[Or Niall organizes a lads’ holiday to see if they still fit.]

let's start right now by dramaturgicallycorrect

He turns to Harry. “Do you mind, like. Can I take a picture of your driver’s license?”

“Yeah,” Harry says easily, fishing his wallet out and presenting him with a California license to match his California plates. He has got an LA address, Niall notes as he snaps a picture. He’s got longer hair in this picture, waving down to brush his shoulders, a far sight from the short crop he's got now. It looks just as good on him, he notes almost subconsciously.

He texts the picture to Louis as Harry puts the license away, give this to the police if I go missing ..

What have you done Neil?? comes Louis’ answer quickly, but Niall ignores it, looks up to find Harry looking back at him.

“It’ll be fun.”

“Promise?”

Harry tilts his head. “I never make promises. You’ll just have to trust me.”

[Or Harry's a professional cross country road trip driver, and Niall is his latest fare.]

call this what you like by dramaturgicallycorrect

“Who was that?” Laura asks, something sly on her face that Niall quite wishes she’d wipe off.

It twists Niall’s stomach anyway, to say, “My mate Harry,” when the truth of it is mates aren’t supposed to catch your breath in your chest talking to them.

He doesn’t know what to do with the feeling, so he presses it away, deep into that box of other nasty feelings he doesn’t want, the ones that haunt him, the you’re never going to get a gig, the you’re going to end up alone.

The thing is, it doesn’t feel like a nasty feeling. It feels like something he should explore instead of hide, because it feels good. But he’s felt it, maybe just once or twice before, and nothing good’s ever come of it. Not a single person’s understood. So Niall locks it up tight and swears he’ll lose the key.

[Or Harry’s looking for love in all the wrong places, and Niall’s not meant to be looking at all.]

only fools rush in by darlingjustdont

niall holds up his hand to show off the band, unthinkingly pushed onto his fourth finger. harry stares at it. “i woke up with it on my thumb.” “did i get one?” says harry, now staring at his own hands. there’s a simple silver ring on his left hand. “oh fuck, i did. holy fuck, niall. i think we got married.”

a post-zayn, non-hiatus au where niall and harry accidentally get married in vegas. it's a bit problematic, mostly because niall's been in love with harry for a long time.

once in your life by wearecities (falsetto)

There’s a moment of silence where Harry considers just passing out right there, head hanging off the bed, because the alcohol’s finally catching up to him in the most unpleasant way. “When we’re thirty?”

“When we’re thirty.” Harry repeats. His eyelids are slowly drooping closed, fingers going slack around the beer he’s clutching. He’s just slipping over the edge when there’s the rustle of material and he squints open one eye to look at Niall.

"We’ve done stupider things.” Niall shrugs.

Niall and Harry make a marriage pact.

and we're starting at the end by dessertmeltdown

The first time Harry sees Niall he's bouncing around bootcamp with a guitar.

See You Later, Boy by marcel

One day, Niall runs Harry over with a skateboard.

Maybe With Me by threeturn

Harry tries to help Niall hook up. Set during the American leg of the TMH tour.

Turn all your grey skies blue. by mogigraphia

Niall's a new single dad, and Harry's his daughter's teacher at the daycare.

it’s kind of our routine by somerdaye

Niall only gets to kiss Harry on New Year’s, and does not in any way want more than that. Really.

You and I Misbehaving by BlackWave

Harry and Niall bake and fail to be proper human adults.

Everything Comes Back To You by Narryornarry

Niall and Harry go to Mullingar, and fall in love in the process.

a true thing by from

NYC, December 2014. Nothing lasts, especially not a shared tub of cereal milk ice cream, but they’re Harry and Niall, and they'll move on with the new.

find a way out of myself again by mozartspiano

harry can't go home so he makes a new one.

AU set in montreal, canada.

Mastering the Art of Friends Cooking by el_em_en_oh_pee

Niall has spent years of practice preparing for his appearance on the Next Food Network Star. He expected his life to change as a result of it - just not quite in this way.

Always Wanna Blow Your Mind by jibrailis

Harry accidentally buys a ring that gives him special sex powers. It’s terribly confusing for everyone involved.

Uncertainty Principle by jibrailis

He didn’t expect this: Australia, the vineyard, and Niall who won’t look him in the eye.

and show me why you deserve to have it all by intherubble

Genetics could go eat a dick as far as Harry is concerned. He just wishes he still had one. (written January 2012)

I Can Be Your New Addiction by estrella30

And that’s another problem. Harry is way too aware of Niall right now to get entirely comfortable. He’s just…

Niall is just there – right there – and Harry is having all sorts of ridiculous thoughts about him.

days grow on colorful trees by criminiallar

He’ll miss nights when they scroll through their phones side by side and Skype with their friends from opposite sides of the room, and he’ll miss leaning over whenever the mood strikes him, nudging his nose against Harry’s jogging bottoms that he’s taken to wearing around the house and looking up with a hopeful grin and Harry leaning back on his elbows with a flourish of his hands before he tips over, smiling at the ceiling with a, “Have at it, then.”

Happy Genius Heroes by BlackWave

Niall is an aspiring evil genius (who isn't very evil at all). Harry is his pretty assistant. Liam is the visiting friend and Louis and Zayn are meddlesome superheroes.

it's the way we are together by roofpizza

Harry leans against the shelf and opens his mouth to say something witty and probably super sexy when Niall interrupts him with a snort. “Do those kinds of lines get you anywhere?”

“Most of the time,” Harry shrugs, and it’s true, because he has quite a bit of charm, and it tends to work in his favor, despite his cheesy lines. “I’m charming.”

“I suppose you are,” Niall laughs, and Harry can’t help the smile that spreads across his face.

you don't need me anymore by outwardbound93

Rain riddles the sea like bullets and the dark storm clouds hang just above ceiling height, but Niall doesn’t have the panicky crushed feeling he sometimes gets. The little house feels cozy with his baby asleep in the next room and Harry’s lip jutting out in a pout.

Or, Niall becomes a dad.

hold on by outwardbound93

Funny, Niall thinks, that for all their success ordinary terrible things happen to them just like anybody else. Girlfriends get tired of the fans or get panicked about too much commitment, and bandmates slip going into the pool and lose five years’ worth of memories.

i sing you like a song i heard when i was young by disequilibrium

Niall never thought he’d find his way back home. But then, the wind works in mysterious ways: a stranger at the door, an impossible escape. A whisper that changes everything, forever, again.

always be your boy by saysthemagpie

In retrospect, becoming part of the world’s biggest boy band might not have been the smartest move for someone with Niall’s 'special condition,' what with the whole never-aging thing and the insatiable thirst for human blood.

Niall's a vampire. Harry's his human boyfriend. Harry thinks he should probably become a vampire, too.

Sad Blue Eyes by Mcwarr

“To the rest of the world, Harry had no qualms with being an absolute asshole but when it came to Niall, all bets were off.”

the one with all the football by irishmizzy, miss_bennie

Senior year was supposed to be the best ever – that is, until Louis goes through a breakup over the summer and Zayn starts acting weird. With everything falling apart, Niall, Liam, and Harry are doing their best to keep it together, but it’s easier said than done. If nothing else, at least Niall’s got Harry.

[2015 One Direction as told through an American College AU]

and you know in your heart it'll be worth it by outwardbound93

“At home, we sleep on the,” he points at the ceiling. “The top, so we don’t float away.”

Niall laughs. “The ceiling, you mean?” He traces the line of Harry’s dimple. “I figured you slept inside a castle, like in the pictures of what Atlantis looked like.”

“I doubt that’s accurate,” Harry says. He palms Niall’s thigh, running his hand down to his knee, where he pauses to feel out the unfamiliar bones with his fingertips. “Otters sleep holding hands so they won’t drift apart, did you know that?”

“What, are you an otter?” Niall asks.

“No, but it might not be too bad,” Harry says. He lays his head to rest on Niall’s chest, over his heart. His fingers tangle with Niall’s in the sheets, his skin tanned and smooth, Niall’s pale and scarred.

"Eh,” Niall says. “It’s not too bad, I guess.”

We Could Be Enough by balefully

One Direction reconvenes after two years at Niall's cabin in Connemara for Christmas. Niall and Harry haven't spoken during the break, but they relearn each other and fall into something they never expected.

Super Beautiful Sex Machine by jibrailis

Niall Horan, porn star.

you're the truth i can't explain by takesmeunder

When Harry gets hired to be Niall Horan's celebrity photographer, he's expecting a learning experience and a chance to see the world. Determined to keep his business and personal lives separate, Harry tries desperately to keep things professional. The last thing he's expecting is to fall for a rockstar.

Relatable Content by makesomelove

Harry glances down at the floor, then up at Niall, lip curling up in a bashful smirk. Niall wants terribly to kiss him. The opportunity is right there in front of him, and it's the worst idea in the entire world.

It would reach the press. He'd be in the news - CEO and Founder of BeepFodder Niall Horan Sexually Manipulates Underlings. His mum has an alert for him on her computer and she'd see it and have a heart attack. They'd lose sponsors. Even if they didn't publish the footage, it'd still exist. It all still would have happened. Harry would know Niall likes him. The thought of the most vulnerable spots in his heart being captured on film and shown to millions of people makes Niall sick. Going through with this in a legitimate way would ruin his life no matter what.

in the golden afternoon by bisousniall

Niall can talk to flowers, but his life is pretty uncomplicated despite this. Until Harry shows up.

A Spell That Can't Be Broken (orphan_account)

He hears the people around them whisper, saying that he's got this boy under a tragic spell. Niall thinks they've got it all wrong. It's him who's caught under Harry's spell.

[Niall's a witch, Harry doesn't know this, and it's all on Niall if this blows up in his face.]

watch you on the red horizon by littlecather

“Just us,” he murmurs. “If - we’re talking about, like. Always.”

Harry nods. “Just us,” he repeats, voice a cracked whisper.

It's 2018, a year after One Direction has ended. Niall and Harry may or may not accidentally become soul mates.

Yoga To Be Joking by mdashes

The tags explain everything, I think. (Yoga, Autofellatio)

slow and steady (your hand fits in mine) by leitmotifs (orphan_account)

Niall slips the case shut, running his fingers along the top until they reach the handle. “Would you come with me?”

Harry raises an eyebrow. “Right now, or in general?”

Niall decides to humor him. “In general.”

“Always.”

---

Or: Their first Christmas since the accident, and Harry promises to take care of Niall.

i'll pull you closer by leitmotifs (orphan_account)

“You’re a fish,” Harry says.

“Am not.”

“You have a tail.”

“ ‘m not a fish.” Niall sounds vaguely affronted. “I’m a siren.”

“Uh huh. Care to elaborate on that?” Harry snips.

“Well,” Niall says thoughtfully, “I’m supposed to seduce you with my voice, lure you in, and then viciously devour your flesh.”

till you know that the words are right by el_em_en_oh_pee

Somehow, at this stage in his career, waking up with breasts and a vagina on the morning of the biggest show of his life doesn't even seem that comparatively weird to Niall.

Welcome to the Jungle by peerpressure

Harry, Louis and Zayn are in a band (it's not an indie band and definitely not a tribute band).

Harry falls in love with Niall a little too hard and a little too fast. It's not very punk rock.

we're on fire now by leitmotifs (orphan_account)

In which Harry and Niall are two of the best spies in the world, except maybe not really, because they're enemies and one is not supposed to fraternize with the enemy, but it keeps happening anyway. Liam is very exasperated.

i won't be on my own by sakabelle

Harry takes a quick trip back to London to care for his ailing boyfriend.

Benefits by sakabelle

It begins at Jay and Dan's wedding. It's supposed to be a laugh, really. Niall and Harry showing up there together because they've got no one else to bring.

It continues because Niall's always got to have some sort of fling going on whenever they're home from the tour. It's just that Harry never expected that he'd be one of those flings.

Holding Me Hostage by sakabelle

Niall Horan is content to keep to himself for his thirteen month prison sentence. He's content to stay out of trouble. Content to do his time and get out. But within the walls of HM Forest Bank, everyone's got a secret. Everyone's got a purpose. Everyone's got to get through their time somehow.

Which is how Niall finds himself with a lot more problems than he ever had on the outside.

To the Stars by sakabelle

The last place Niall Horan wanted to be was a first class passenger on the Titanic, headed to America. His father was forcing him into a life he didn’t want, full of business meetings and ritzy parties. Simply put, he was miserable.

Until he met Harry Styles. A passenger in steerage who would turn his entire life upside down.

A Titanic movie AU.

Piccadilly by anb123

Based on this prompt: fic where niall is a famous pop star who takes the tube every chance he can get, mostly because it’s one aspect of his life that makes him feel more normal and harry’s the cute college student who also takes the tube, has absolutely no clue who niall is, so when niall grins at him from the other side of the car, harry just thinks niall’s a normal lad flirting with him by niallharold on Tumblr.

Famous Niall & uni student Harry meet on the tube. Life ensues.

show me your love (orphan_account)

niall and harry go to las vegas as best friends and go home married.

and if it's quite alright, you could be my way of life by lizzybean

A comfy cozy, post break up, slightly golf!AU where Harry fills all the cracks and gaps left in Niall's heart.

A Slide Into First by siempreniall

Niall's a minor league star baseball player, Harry's in love with him, Liam makes really good hot dogs, Louis's a mascot wrench, and Zayn shows up to pull everything together.

Love Muffins by alexenglish

A story about something at first sight. In which Niall didn't call, Harry stress bakes, Louis meddles, Zayn and Liam are... Zayn and Liam, and everything works out in the end.

What's A Fella T' Do? by iwanna_seeyou_undoit

Pretend!Boyfriends AU where Harry doesn't own any trousers that don't have holes in them, Niall is the only one who can drive, and they definitely aren't shagging.

take me with you by outwardbound93

“I’m dating Niall,” Harry blurts out in the middle of their interview with Scott Mills. Liam’s, Louis’s, and Scott’s heads all swing around to him. Niall doesn’t so much as blink.

If it's torn we can stitch it up by ifzi0531

Niall shifts his feet nervously. He still doesn’t know if this is the right decision but he stares back at the small name card in his hand. “Hi, it’s Niall. The one from juvie. You gave me your card, and asked me to call you if I ever needed your help.”

“Hi, Niall! What can I do for you? Are you in trouble again?”

Niall shakes his head like he always does when people are asking him questions. It’s what he does, giving them non-verbal answers. But then he realizes he’s talking through the phone, so he speaks out loud again. “I-,” Niall trails off, tightening his grip on the phone. He stares at the ground, hoping that the ground would swallow him. “My mum kicked me out of the house.”

or

The Orange County (O.C) AU

how to make two lovers of friends by petals

The first time they meet, they hate each other. Or, Harry hates Niall. The second time they meet, Niall doesn't remember Harry. He says he did. The third time they meet, they become friends. They're friends for a long time. And then they're not. And then they fall in love.

Or a When Harry Met Sally au

My Kiss Can Mend Your Broken Heart by PigSlay

After Zayn leaves the band, Niall withdraws into his head. He tries his best to keep up appearances (both in public and in front of the boys) but it's not hard to notice when he falters. Harry is the first one to do something about it.

and the history books forgot about us by roofpizza

for the prompt: A timeline of how narry came to be narry from X-Factor bootcamp to the OTRA tour.

or

Niall is having the worst day of his life.

it's not just where you lay your head by disequilibrium

Harry chuckles a little.

“I am. Cry at everything. Sad movies, the lot.”

Niall smiles.

“Yeah, I know.”

And he does know. He’s sort of started to know Harry like the back of his hand. He might even go so far as to say he’s his best friend. And that makes everything else all the more difficult.

friends just sleep in another bed by littlecather

“Just - I’ve just been hanging out with Harry. A lot - slept over a couple of times.”

“You slept over?” Dougie echoes.

"Not like that," Niall rolls his eyes - even though it kind of is.

Tour starts; Niall and Harry grow closer.

Know Your Place by siempreniall

Niall's place in life has changed a lot. He's always left trying to figure out where he truly belongs, with whom he truly belongs. It just takes a few tries and a few life-changing, impossible events for him to get it right.

Everything Comes Back To You by alliecat23784

A canon compliant fic where Harry and Niall are very much in love and manage to keep their relationship strong while both touring the world at the same time.

(And I’m queer for math!) by softly (alexenglish)

No no, we aren’t breaking up! You didn’t let me finish. I’m gay for YOU.

all the time before i knew you by littlemissmeggie

“I’ve heard you like Scrabble,” said Niall. He considered Harry. Maybe Louis was right and he and Harry would make good friends.

“Yeah.” Harry nodded enthusiastically, eyes lighting up. “I go to the Scrabble club at my library.”

“I think I’ve got a Scrabble set round my flat somewhere,” Niall told him. He shrugged and shot Harry a crooked grin. “If you don’t mind playing with a set that’s almost certainly missing a few letters.”

“Oh,” said Harry slowly, understanding seeming to dawn on him. A flicker of something Niall couldn’t identify crossed his face. “Um, that might- that might be a challenge. I’d better- I’ll probably stick with the sets at the library.” He gave Niall a sad, apologetic half-smile. “I should get back to, um, back to wardrobe."

“Don’t be offended,” said Louis, moving closer to Niall. “It’s not you. It’s not me. It’s Grimshaw. Fucking twat.”

Up-and-coming model Harry Styles falls under the charms of his long-time celebrity crush, emotionally manipulative Nick Grimshaw. After some poking and prodding and meddling from his friend Louis, Harry befriends fellow model Niall Horan and soon realises that friendship—and maybe true love—should be a bit more like this.

if I got a condo on a cloud then I guess you can stay at my place (orphan_account)

“I think I can make it. Wait so are we gonna have to hold hands and stuff?” Niall asks Harry and Harry blushes and looks down at his feet awkwardly.

“I- you don’t have too. You can just hover.” --

Harry can't just show up to his sister's wedding where his ex boyfriend is going to be without somebody with him, I mean he can't just loiter around the chocolate fountain. So that's why he enlists Niall's help.

The Wedding Singer by littlecather

It's not that Harry doesn't believe in love, exactly - he just thinks that romance and marriage and all that comes with it are overrated. Niall has sung at over a hundred weddings, and is determined to prove Harry wrong. After all - there's a reason for all those songs.

Frenemies by alteringegoism

Harry hates Niall. Niall hates Harry. But Harry wants Zayn and in order to get to him, he’ll have to go through his best friend Niall. Harry will just have to kill Niall with kindness. That’s if Niall doesn’t kill him first. Oh and Liam and Louis are getting married.

When I Close My Eyes, All the Stars Align by FallingLikeThis

Harry Styles looks out the windowed wall of his penthouse apartment, staring down at the teeming masses that bring life to the streets below. Any one of the people down there could be his soulmate. Or, who knows, his soulmate could be halfway around the world. Or dead already. There’s no way to know, really, since Harry’s affliction is so rare. He bears the soulmate mark. It occurs in maybe one in a million people. He’s one of the chosen few who has one, single person that’s meant for them. Everyone else has the freewill to love whoever they want but if Harry ever hopes to find true love, he’ll have to go through a damn scavenger hunt to get it. And as if that wasn’t enough, he has a time limit.

Or a Beauty and the Beast Au in which Harry's only beastly qualities are his hair and his bad attitude and Niall arrives to spy on him for his sister but ends up staying for so much more.

baby, you don't know what it's like by peerpressure

Harry tries really, really hard to only see Niall as a friend.

It’s not working very well.

Because Niall is simply amazing and Harry is so stunned that he’s even allowed in his presence. And also because he wants to suck his dick. Just a little. But he also wants to cuddle him and maybe share food and fight for blankets and press cold feet against each other and shampoo each other’s hair.

Harry just wants to be with Niall.

(In which Louis is a good friend, Liam is kind, Zayn is always stressed, Niall is the new guy and Harry falls in love)

let's spin the world around by jamesniall

"Superlatives are just about putting the word más before an adjective or a sustantive. Like más grande which means bigger, or más fuerte, which means harder" Niall says, looking pointedly at Harry and Harry is 99% sure he's doing it on purpose.

"más rápido means faster" Niall continues, "Are you getting hard from this, Harry?" and if Harry would have had something in his mouth he would have spilled it all over Niall's face.

Or, Harry learns spanish thanks to Niall's dirty talk.

Maybe You're My Snowflake by pintsandguitars

Harry Styles loves the snow. Niall Horan loves the stars. And somewhere between snowflakes and night skies, they start loving each other.

For Rayvans: Uni! au where Harry doesn't have anywhere to go for Christmas break, so his roommate Niall invites him to spend the holidays with him. (bonus if they end up sharing a bed in Niall's small childhood room).

A head for business and a body for sin by flickerbyniall

He first time he caught Harry’s eyes was about an hour ago, the boy was eating some strawberries from the buffet table around the corner, oblivious to the fact he was standing out in the crowd with his rebellious look.

or Harry goes to a Gala and can't take his eyes off the boy wearing a leather jacket.

Searching by littlecather

Niall has been hired by a magazine to track each employee's searches on Google. Harry uses Google a lot.

wide open spaces by outwardbound93

“Well,” Harry says at the end of the day. The sun sets late in Texas like it doesn’t want to go, clinging to the scrubby flatlands with the last reaches of striped sunbeams. Niall leans on the broom and watches Harry fidget with a bundle of notecards he has to fill with peoples’ heartfelt sentiments. Love notes, apologies, get-well-soons, Harry’s got them all. “Will I see you tomorrow, then?”

Niall props the broomstick against a shelf holding a bunch of little green plants he doesn’t know the name of. The shop is bursting with green leaves, colorful blossoms like pops of candy mixed with buttered popcorn at the movie theatre, and at the heart of it, Harry. Harry, with his languid speech and that one curl that stubbornly sticks out on the side of his head that Niall always wants to twirl around his finger and that smile that arrives in a flash or unfurls slowly.

“Yeah,” says Niall. “I’ll be here.”

this could be the end of everything by basementhero

The Norns remembered each cycle of time and would recount the tale if asked: Harry and Niall were not the first of their kind, nor was it the world’s first attempt at existence. Some cycles were short while other stretched on for tens or hundreds or thousands of millennia. It was always the same in the end, though, no matter how many intervening years it took to get there. Baldr always fell; the giants always attacked, and the realms of Yggdrasil—the world tree—were always plunged back into the void after Ragnarök, waiting for rebirth.

But not everything was so set in stone; at least, it didn’t seem to be.

(or: Niall and Harry are immortal deities, but even gods are subject to fate.)

We Could Be The Ones Who Matter by jibrailis

Harry and Niall both get weirdly intense about things, and by things, they mean competitive Scrabble.

lovesick boys will write you lovesongs by narryblossom

When Niall walks through the gate at Dublin Airport at four in the morning, jet lagged to hell and back, he feels like he’s home. He thinks he’s never felt so happy to hear an Irish accent, and he certainly has never been so happy to have no fucking clue what he’s doing.

(Well, he has some idea of what he’s doing, he just isn’t sure it’s going to work out the way it does in his head.)

(An AU where Niall dreams of his lost love and finds himself going home to search for him.)

let yourself be enchanted by acastle

“Which means, I’ve got a Charms post to fill. And do you know who he suggested for the job?”

Harry doesn’t trust the wide beam on his face, and Louis goes on, “Well, he’d told me about this bloke. Class of 2011, student rank number three but top at Charms of his class, Hufflepuff, prefect, atrocious Quidditch player, but he makes a great treacle tart-”

“He suggested me?” Harry says blankly.

(Hogwarts and co-teachers AU, all in one.)

Along the Way (Something Changed ) by catrinahart

For the last five years, singer turned actor, Harry Styles has had Niall by his side to help manage his incredibly crazy life. They met and quickly became the best of friends. Then people start asking questions, making Harry think, what do they see that he doesn't?

and days gone by by outwardbound93

Niall catches himself glancing at Harry in the backseat. The tops of buildings are lined with Christmas lights like the iced piping on a gingerbread house, and the crisp sharp light of a winter night makes Harry’s skin look warm and soft.

riverina by outwardbound93

Harry looks up at Niall, the sharp, almost antique lines of his face thrust into regal beauty by the stadium lights. Harry’s ribs press against the size of his heart.

Or, a royalty!au where Niall's a prince and Harry's the reporter that writes about him.

let me photograph you in this light by storhan

“I like that one,” he says, turning the camera back around to show Harry the picture he took earlier that day of Niall reading. Harry also finds himself smiling, he quite likes that one too.

“Me too,” Harry says softly.

Or, Harry's a photography major and Niall is his muse.

something so magic about you by storhan

Niall's a single father and Harry's his neighbor who never seems to wear a shirt.

St-st-stuttering by asaprockme

In which Harry has a stutter that he just can't control. Niall doesn't mind.

I'm not trying to stop you, love by littlecather

If we're gonna do anything, we might as well just ...

Niall and Harry are the only ones left on campus over the Christmas holidays, and even though they've never really hung out before, they manage to spend most of the week holed up in Harry's room, together.

the piano man’s playing some old melody by littlervoice

Harry is a piano player. One day his neighbour puts in a request.

Do you want to come to the gym? by maxette

Niall is Harry's personal trainer: a romantic comedy without the middle forty-five minutes of misunderstandings.

running around in love again by mozartspiano

they meet at a coffee shop on valentine's day. it's all a horrible cliche.

You Feel Like Home (You're Like a Dream Come True) by roughvoiced

Niall sighs and unwraps the scarf from around his neck. "A plus one," he repeats. "I need one."

“For what?” Harry asks, watching as Niall unzips his coat, letting it slip off his arms and drop to a rumpled pile on the carpet before slipping off his shoes and striding over to Harry, plonking himself down on the sofa beside him and snuffling up under his arm, waiting for Harry to pull him in close before he speaks.

“Greg’s wedding.”

or, the au where Harry offers to be Niall's plus one and ends up with a whole lot more than he bargained for.

Another Auld Lang Syne by colbyjack

"We drank a toast to innocence We drank a toast to now. And tried to reach beyond the emptiness, But neither one knew how.”

-

Harry and Niall are old flames who eventually find each other again, of course, because the universe doesn’t want to give up on them.

Stacked Against You by siempreniall

Niall hates the library. All of the computers are always taken, the stacks make him feel claustrophobic, and his short attention span has never given itself well to studying anyways. The cute boy at the information desk makes it all worth it, though.

i want you so much (but i hate your guts) by siempreniall

Niall doesn’t know what he’s still doing there. This isn’t really how he likes to spend his Sunday nights. He doesn’t want to be yelled at and made to feel guilty for something that happened months ago. All he wants is to leave, really.

heartbreak hero by acastle

“So you want me to hear your side of things?"

"Yes, that would be a start."

"Fine,” Niall steps forward, so he and Harry are practically nose to nose. “Come back tomorrow at 8, so you can air your side of the situation on my segment.”

In which Niall is a love guru of sorts on the radio, who thinks love is the bane of the world, and Harry is a fuckboy who’s lovely, surely, but is not the best boyfriend in the world, not by a long shot. His girl breaks up with him while on air with Niall, and Harry isn’t having that, so he forces Niall to help him win her back.

(Alternatively, Niall’s Guide On How to Win Back the Girl, patent pending. It should work, in theory.)

Home is Wherever I'm with You by ziamfcks

Niall is blind and Harry works in a coffeeshop. It's love from the start.

Intensified by Absence by littlecather

Niall smiled, the action uncontrollable. “Hey, time traveller,” he said softly.

Harry blanched, his eyes growing a little wide, but he cocked his head to the side with confusion. “Hello,” he said, holding out his hand across the back of his seat for Niall to shake. “I’m Harry. What’s your name?”

The Time Traveller's Wife AU.

My Dearest Love by badjujuboo (miztrezboo)

His teeth hurt. Ached really. Like this thrumming underneath the veneer that wouldn't cease. Wouldn't be calmed no matter how many pain meds he's taken, no matter how much oil of clove he's rubbed onto them.

His dreams. His dreams were strange, too. Bloody, but without violence. Just a warm, wet, thick feel to them. And red. So much red.

He should have expected it. Should have made plans, sought guidance, kept himself away but. . . .

He’d never been to good at any of those things. Especially the last.

hands that hold me by lostgirl152

Niall was always too interested in Harry's hands

6,359 miles by acastle

“Why, why’d he send me that?” Harry murmurs, and Nick looks up from the screen. “What does he want me to do? I don’t-”

“Idiot,” he flicks his phone back to him. “Make a reservation. He wants you to go there.”

(Niall and Harry were sleeping together, until they aren’t, and then Niall disappears into a tiny island in the East. Then he asks Harry to follow him.)

i forget where we were by littlecather

“You,” he says thickly, swallowing. “You don’t - you don’t remember.”

“Not the last three years,” Harry tells him simply. “Sorry. What was your name?”

“Niall,” he mutters, face suddenly dark. “I’m Niall, I’m Liam’s assistant."

Harry wakes up to find he has retrograde amnesia and a perfect life - seemingly.

he is the lamb, she is the slaughter by trishapocalypse

“Niall, what did you do to me?” Harry repeated, quieter, slower than normal, and he looked up at Niall from under his eyelashes.

Niall froze, reaching a hand up to rub at his eyes, blinking rapidly as he stared at Harry. “What’s that?”

“This?” he asked, gesturing towards his chest. “Oh, you know, just breasts!” he snapped, picking up the pillow and throwing it back at Niall. “What did you do to me?!”

(Or: the one where Harry wakes up a girl and it's clearly NIall's fault.)

Through the Screen by sunshineflying

In his free time, Niall Horan likes to subscribe to his favourite camboy, Harry Cox. When he moves to uni he's not sure how he'll manage to watch the weekly show with a roommate. Things become even more complicated with that roommate is the one and only camboy of his dreams - Harry.

The Whole Shebang by BakerGrey

Niall lives life like it’s a daydream, Harry’s just in love, and Zayn’s painting pictures of Louis’s boyfriend.

laughin' loud on a carnival ride by el_em_en_oh_pee

Harry looks around the fairground. They’ve already done the putt-putt - Harry got tripped up by the windmill, but Niall almost lost his ball at the clown hole because he didn’t want to look straight at it - and the zipper and the gravitron and the spinning teacups. The Ferris wheel looms, past the inflatable slides and the yo-yo, and he wants to go to that, he does, but - Ferris wheels are always romantic in the movies, and Harry isn’t sure that Niall wants romantic from this. “Funnel cakes?” he suggests, instead.

i have lightning by sarcangel

“Have you ever eaten a raw olive?” Harry asks. Niall can actually taste them on his breath, green and briny, mixed with vodka and actual bitters; Harry still needs to breathe to live, after all, and still has no concept of personal space.

in the lonely cool before dawn by mozartspiano

Niall is the Deputy Chief of Staff at the White House. Harry is his assistant.

A West Wing!AU.

like your favourite tune by words_unravel

It's just another summer for Harry - an unexpected flat mate, Louis being an idiot, and Liam hiding away in Wolverhampton.

....okay, maybe not just a typical summer then.

The River and the Deep Green Bend by liquidmeasure 

Harry studies the card for just a moment. It’s all brightness and blooming growth where the last card was darkness and destruction: a child, fair haired and laughing and riding on the back of a horse, his arms outstretched and basking in the light of a yellow sun.

“See? Not all bad." Jesy taps at the image on the card and nods. "Him I like. Look at him casting his light, nourishing the four little flowers in the back. He's an engine, burning brightly. Illuminating the dark corners. He's growth. Newness. Reconciliation...” Harry shakes his head and moves for the door. Opens it just as she says, “for all five of you.”

There’s a flutter and a commotion from behind him and then Rover is winging past him through the door, making her way out into the dark. The night air is cold on his face and it feels like relief. Like an escape.

“Four of us.” Liam sounds a little uncertain.

“What was that?”

“There’s just four of us, not five.”

“Oh…” her voice trails off as Harry steps out into the moonlight. “Well, like he said, it’s mostly bullshit anyway. Can’t get everything right.”

A Dark Tower AU for round 4 of the 1D big bang.

[hejin57-blog]

MUSIC MASTERS: CD ONE -----

For those interested: I’ll be posting segments of my Music Masters series through this tumblr account.  Due to the nature of the story, song links will be linked where relevant.

Anyway, on with the story.

-----

-----

WHITE KNUCKLE RIDE: PART ONE

-----

Music is truly a marvel of human invention.

In essence, it's nothing more the configuration of sounds in a set pattern, sometimes produced through our vocal cords, or often times through contraptions consisting of nothing more than strings and pieces of metal and wood.

But the beauty of music is not in how it's created, but in the inevitable result. It is a deliberate pattern of sounds that can be interpreted in an infinite number of ways, and loved by people all over the world, if not throughout the known universe.

Michael Kay is one of those people.

And this is his story, his white knuckle ride; in all it's long playing glory.

-----

-----

It was in all likelihood very frustrating to be the neighbor of Colleen Kay.

As a relatively hard-working twenty-something, Colleen peacefully came and went from her Washington Heights apartment when work demanded her to do so. She waved at the neighbors when they waved first, usually acknowledged the postman, and put long and stressful hours at her nursing job. So one could only assume that in the hours she wasn't home, there should be nothing but peace and quiet.

If not for her afro-headed brother, of course.

It was just another typical afternoon for Michael Jason Kay, the spotlights in his room practically high-beams, and his music so loud that it seemed to warp the walls of his room with each bass strum.

Taller than most boys his age, Michael Kay flowed like water, his red sneakers burning up the dance floor with each step. As the pumping disco beat pulsed around him, he bounced back and forth with near perfect sync.

Though his room was small, it was big enough to fit the configuration of colored spot lights he had bought to emulate the heart of a disco dance floor. The room lit up with a turquoise glint, reflecting off his tan skin as his large orb of hair bobbed and his record player continued to play its soulful melody in the corner.

Eyes closed, lost in the music, Michael could feel words just beginning to escape his lips as he descended into boogie wonderland.

"Got canned heat in my heels tonig-"

Unfortunately for him, those next words never came. Instead, a voice seemed to pierce the wall of noise. A very familiar voice that he hated to hear on days like this.

"Michael! Can you please turn it down just a decibel, please?!"

Michael's eyes snapped open, and he felt his hips sway out of his control. They bounced against his dresser, nearly knocking over his prized lava lamp. Michael reached for it like a clumsy ape, catching it just in time and then proceeding to groan audibly as he pulled the needle off his vinyl copy of Synkronized.

Switching off his strobe lights, his face soured. Thanks to his always wonderful sister, the moment was gone.

Michael stepped out of his room, hands buried in his pockets as he whined.

"Oh come on, Colleen! That was my jam! I was in the moment, you know? The moment!"

His sister's tone of voice was nothing short of uninterested. She was clearly far more concerned with fixing her curly black hair in the mirror.

"Well that's too bad.", she began, as Michael plopped down on the couch nearby. "Because until you have enough money to go ahead and soundproof your room, there's only so many of your moments I can take. And let's not even get started on the other tenants."

Michael grinned to himself. "Oh come on. I don't play it that loud."

His toothy smile had close to no effect on his older sister. She simply picked up her work notepad from her desk before dropping it right on Michael's stomach.

"I'm not here to argue with you, little brother. Now I need you to run down to the store for me and grab what's on the list. And only what's on the list." she stated, as poured herself a glass of water from the tap. The heat still permeated in their cramped apartment in these final days of summer.

"What!? Why can't you just do it? You're supposed to be off today, and I have a dance routine to perfect." Michael protested.

Colleen simply put her hands up as she shook her head with frustration. "I had off. But Christy decided to get sick yet again, and we need the cash for next month. The least you can do for me is this one tiny task."

His sister reached for her beige coat, checking her baby blue scrubs in the mirror for stray stains. "I'm sure it'll only take you ten minutes, tops."

Michael let out a long sigh. He stuffed the note in his pocket, grumbling to himself as he headed for the front door.

"Yeah. Ten minutes I could be using practicing some killer moves..."

-----

If there was but one solace of having to walk the six blocks out to the grocery store, it was that Michael's music could always come with him. As a listener of the classics, having been bought a vinyl player by Uncle Rob on his seventh birthday, Michael Kay still understood the importance of modern music players. He grinned to himself as he shuffled through his various disco and funk songs, the mental play list already forming in his mind.

It was but two days away from the end of summer vacation, but the seasonal colors still prevailed over the New York City skyline. Michael was never one to control his urges, his feet shuffling slightly and his shoulders popping as he walked along the sidewalk to his destination. Even in the busy street, not a taxi cab driver cursing nor a dog barking would interrupt him from his self-imposed sound zone.

As Michael Kay walked, he was far too engrossed to pay attention to the Dust Bowl; an old skate park in the neighborhood always populated by teenagers, local or otherwise. His headphones offered privacy away from the city's ambiance, and thus he continued to grin to himself as he went along.

So naturally, he couldn't hear the sound of skateboard wheels grinding against asphalt, even as this one particular set skidded off the rail and to a halt as he passed by the fence separating the Dust Bowl from the sidewalk. A set of dark green eyes watched him from beneath a tangled mess of brown hair as he remained oblivious. She scanned him up and down; noting his huge black afro, his red sneakers, navy blue jeans and the piercing colors of his tie dye shirt, which was embedded with the design of a pitch black vinyl record.

Then all of sudden, she winced under her breath, instinctively holding her hands up to her ears as a jolt of sound broke her from her train of thought.

It wasn't his appearance that bothered her. He looked like a moron, for sure, but she could ignore that.

No, it was the infernal noise going through his ears. A high-pitched singer was like a wailing ghost invading her eardrums.

To most people, the music coming from someone's headphones over sixty feet away wouldn't be a bother. Because even at the loudest volume in a much closer proximity, Michael Kay's music would come off as an unintelligible mix of squeals and whistles.

And on top of that, the heavy, dark blue headphones guarding her ears would have guaranteed she wouldn't hear anything but hard guitar strums and bleating punk rock beats.

Except that this girl wasn't like most people. She grimaced through her green lipstick as she propped up her skateboard, the sound of his music grating at her ears painfully. It was like a stereo in the other room; she couldn't hear it perfectly, but she could still hear it.

She watched him like a hawk as he passed by, his music thankfully getting further and further away. After another few seconds, and he was out of sight, and the disco strings, now out of mind.

But the girl still spit out venom, as a few other skaters passed behind her, unaware of her plight.

"Oh great. The disco circus is in town."

-----

Michael Kay surveyed the covers in front of him, a gleam in his eyes as he grinned. Looped around his right wrist were Colleen's groceries. However, as she had time and time again before, she forgot how much the groceries actually cost.

And so with all the essentials covered, Michael decided that a little reward was in order. And thus, here he was, patrolling the aisles of Audio Empire, the most prolific music store in his immediate Washington Heights neighborhood.

Though he owned a great many albums on vinyl, Michael always had room in his tiny closet for one more. As he flipped through everything from The Whispers to Barry White to The Bee Gees, he wondered what particular artist tickled his fancy today. It didn't take him long to spot something of interest; a rare special edition cut of Parliament Gold. Michael grinned at his luck, inadvertently talking to himself as he hurried towards the cashier.

"Oh man, Rob would love this. I bet he memorized every single bass line."

The words were low, but a moment later than they were still enough to make the boy's expression slowly sink.

If there was one thing that made him more unhappy than being forced on grocery runs, it was remembering Rob. Michael looked back at the aisles as he stood in line, his mind visualizing his first trip here. It coalesced into a vivid memory, the image of his uncle with his pulled down cap and large bass guitar case on his back thrust into Michael's mind.

This was back when his hair was of normal length, and he still remembered the warmth of Rob's hand on his shoulder, and the joy in his eyes upon being bought a copy of The Jacksons' Destiny.  

This album had been Michael Kay's very first vinyl record, and it was this purchase that ignited in him a love of disco music that would follow him for the rest of his life.

Though these memories were happy, there still remained the painful fact of the present.

Michael Kay hadn't seen his uncle Rob since he was seven years old. Rob, and these memories of him, seemed like a world away.

"...Howdy, and welcome to Audio Empire! How can I help you today?"

Michael's mind was practically glazed over. He nearly jumped out of skin when the girl repeated herself.

The afro-headed boy blinked. In front of him, a blond cashier with distinctly lightning-shaped earrings and a blue checkered blazer smiled as politely as she could as she waited for him to respond. He laughed awkwardly, placing his chosen album on the counter.

"Oh! Most definitely! Just picking this up." he replied. The girl ringed in his purchase as he shook his mind out of past thoughts.

"That'll be a dollar fifty!" she exclaimed, her tone clearly excitable now. Michael handed over a crumpled dollar and change.

She waved as her register dinged. "Come back real soon!"

Michael largely ignored her upbeat attitude, but that didn't seem to affect her much, as she seemed just as eager when the next customer approached the counter behind him.

Michael stepped out of the automatic doors as he popped his headphones in. As the music overtook him, he felt the overwhelming need to move his body again. Canned Heat was calling to him, and he switched to the song.

"No interruptions this time." he said to himself, a dumb smile forming on his face as the song lit up his soul.

-----

The walk back was relatively short, but it gave Michael enough time to loop Canned Heat more than once. Though it was getting pretty windy, Michael didn't mind one bit. He was distracted again, moving to his own tune as he practically danced along the route back to the apartment.

Michael always thought that if John Travolta could make walking look funky, he could too. Of course, most of his fellow pedestrians probably wouldn't agree. Luckily, the streets were mostly empty this afternoon.

It had been a good half hour, but that was nowhere near enough time to make the girl at the Dust Bowl forgot about Michael's music. As he absentmindedly passed by the fence, the messy-haired skater girl was once again assaulted by a piercing interruption of foreign music. It was like another channel in her head, spilling into her punk rock song like a pool of sludge into clear water.

She sat up from the stone bench, ignoring the other skaters in the bowl below as her gaze focused on the afro-headed idiot from before.

"Not this junk again." she groaned. Nearby, a boy clad in shoulder length dreadlocks responded mockingly.

"What junk? You talking about the way you skate, girl?" he chortled, too busy laughing to himself to notice her approaching in his direction.

He barely had time to react as she stepped hard on his board, forcing its center of gravity upward and tossing him off completely. He tumbled down into the skate bowl, scratching himself a bit, but it didn't seem to phase the girl one bit.

"...maaan! It was a joke!" he exclaimed, pulling himself up and rubbing his now scratched arm as a few other skaters chuckled at his plight.

"You new here?" one of them said, being kind enough to help the boy up. "My advice to you: don't joke with Kim. I'm pretty sure her sense of humor is MIA."

The boy simply replied with a nervous smile, wondering what crawled up her spine to make her so irritable.

Meanwhile, Kim was now much closer to the fence separating the Dust Bowl from the sidewalk, watching the afro-headed boy twirl around a lamppost like a moron to the sound of his music.

Reaching into the trash nearby, she was able to find a serviceable soda can, and her expression softened with confidence. Focusing her eyes under her brown bangs, she waited for the perfect moment.

And it was just as Michael Kay began belting out lyrics that she found it. With a strong swing, the can went catapulting over the fence.

"I used to worry about the fut-"

The words were unable to fully escape his lips as the can made impact with the left side of his face. He yelped like a dog as he almost fell off balance, twirling awkwardly as he just barely regained his footing.

Kim laughed under her breath at the sight.

"Score."

Once he began to really feel the pain, Michael simply nursed his eye as he looked downward, picking up the stray red can and wondering what exactly had happened.

"Hey, what gives!?" he exclaimed, looking around but not immediately finding a culprit to blame. He was speaking loudly over his music, his eyes now focusing on he can in his hand as the pain in his eye started to subside.

"Going around throwing that...canned heat?"

The words sort of slipped out of his mouth. For a moment, he focused away from the pain, and from the can in his hand. When he really looked at, it reminded him of the same red-orange on the cover of the single version of Canned Heat. The album itself was pushed up against others back in his room closet.

But for some reason, the image really spoke to him this time. It coursed through his mind, enveloping his senses to the point where the imagery began to associate with sensation. In a way, it connected directly with the music playing in his ears.

And so, like he had done many times in the past, Michael focused on the music. He let his mind drift into another self-imposed sound zone. He could hear the strings, the vocals, the soft clanging of the drums. He listened to the bass, closing his eyes and imagining every strum going through every fiber of his being.

He saw heat. Or at least, a visual representation of heat. It manifested in his mind as the shimmering mirage one might seen in a desert, though it glowed with red-orange intensity like the art on the Canned Heat single.

Strangely though, it felt real. The shimmering heat became less like a dream and more like a sensation. Seconds later, and his right hand began to heat up.

The chorus blared with intensity. Michael opened his eyes as they echoed through his eardrums.

-----

-----

Amazingly, the heat was now all too real.

Michael's expression went wide, as what was left of the can dripped down his palm like it had been melted by a death ray. His right hand was now sheathed in the same shimmering red-orange aura, which burned bright enough to make him squint. He wondered what he was seeing in front of him, or perhaps it was just that the can had just given him one hell of a concussion.

When he blinked, and the heat was still there, it was obvious this wasn't a hallucination.

And so, Michael reacted naturally.

"Oh man!" he cried out like a small child, shaking his hand wildly as if to remove the fiery aura, but to no avail. "Get it off! Get it off, get if off, get it off!"

The heat seemed stuck to him though, and grabbing onto the fence yielded nothing more than a loud sizzling as it began to melt away at the old metal. The remains of the can had been vaporized at this point.

Almost by instinct, Michael reached for his headphones with his non-burning hand, pulling one off and then the other as he continued to stare in disbelief. And in the instant the music was not playing in his ears, the shimmering heat aura seemed to fade away. Like someone pulling the plug on an amp, it was simply gone.

Michael did a double take, looking around. A few pedestrians stared at his general oddness, but it appeared that no else noticed the shimmering red-orange heat that enveloped his hand just moments before. And if they had noticed, neither people walking nor skaters nearby seemed to care. Michael felt beyond confused, but it was at this point that he finally noticed the girl through the fence, who glared at him in some sort of disbelief.

She was only somewhat surprised at this sudden display of power, oddly enough.

Their gazes met, and Michael took in her appearance. She had very messy, shoulder length brown hair. Her ensemble consisted of heavy green lipstick, a purple tank top, toxic green pants held up by a dull orange belt, and bulky combat boots. Despite her intimidating appearance, she was still a girl, that much was certain.

Spotting the curiosity in his eyes, Kim was quick to turn aside. She wanted nothing to do with him now that his detestable music was off for the time being.

And though she was some twenty feet away now, Michael could have sworn that he heard the few words she mumbled under her breath as she walked away.

"Another Music Master. Wonderful. Because that's exactly what this crummy neighborhood needed..."

Michael pressed himself up against the bars of the fence, but now Kim was clearly out of reach. The words echoed in his head. Had his hearing always been this good?

Music Master.

That had to be exactly what she said. Michael mouthed the same words, his mind beginning to fantasize a possible meaning. Did it have something to do with what had just happened?

He debated calling out to the girl, but judging by her attitude, it didn't seem worth it.

Michael turned away, now looking at his once prized music player with creeping apprehension.

There was a connection between what had happened and the song that had been playing in his ears, that much was for sure. Was it safe to even try listening to Canned Heat again? And if Michael did even dare to try it, what if something worse happened? He imagined bursting into flame.

Michael then gulped at a grim thought. One that was far worse than the prospect of his afro being lit up like an effigy.

Was it ever safe to listen to any of his music again?

Fast forward to the next track....

[welcometophu]

Denouement 2

Twinned Book 1: Commit to the Kick

Denouement 2

[ Previous | First | Next ]

Theobald meets them at the turn off the main road and onto Clan land. His wolf is huge, back arched and feet spread as it growls, blocking the road. Sharp teeth are bared in a snarl, and Alaric tumbles out of the back of Pawel’s SUV before it comes to a full stop.

Alaric’s bear emerges before he fully gains his footing, lumbering forward. There’s a screech as the emergency brake pulls the SUV to a full stop, and a moment later Mac is right there next to him, one hand on his front limb.

“Ric,” she says, and he hesitates, then roars.

Theobald answers with a howl of anger.

“We have something in the car and two very exhausted Mages,” Mac says quietly. “Nothing’s going to get better if you rip each other’s throats out.”

Theobald’s attention shifts to her, nostrils flaring as he inhales deeply. The growl drops low in his throat; Mac stands her ground, despite the thickness of fear in her scent.

Alaric forces the bear back, comes back to humanity with hands in fists, tight at his sides, and Mac’s fingers gripping his forearm. “You wanted an answer,” he says, voice low and rough.

Theobald’s change is quick, becoming human in a blink. He stands with his arms crossed, eyes glinting yellow in the moonlight. “I can smell the answer. Get the Mages out of here.”

Alaric shakes his head, steps forward into Theobald’s space. “The Mages aren’t the problem. They’re the ones keeping that thing in the car from attacking you. Or any of us. That thing killed Orson, or something just like it. You wanted an answer, so I brought one. You need the Mages if you want a chance to talk to it.”

Theobald pushes Alaric out of the way, stalks to the car and yanks the door open. He looks into the backseat, where Rory and Pawel both have their hands on the writhing shadow. The shadow grins at Theobald, teeth shining sharp within the darkness, and laughs softly.

“What is this?”

“Shadowwalker,” Alaric says, at the same time as Pawel bites out “Deathstalker,” from between gritted teeth.

“Impossible.”

“Not impossible,” Pawel says, voice tight. “Just highly improbable. Legends have to come from somewhere. You’d be surprised what’s becoming more and more probable.”

“If you’re going to question this, I’d really appreciate it if we could do it soon,” Rory says softly. “I’m tired.”

“Just let go,” the shadow hisses. “I’ll only take your soul.”

“Also called soul stealers,” Pawel comments, as Theobald takes a step back.

“The Berman homestead,” Theobald snaps, falling back into wolf form. He barks once, then lopes away, pausing and snarling when the SUV doesn’t immediately start to move.

“Put it in all wheel drive,” Alaric says quietly when Mac’s back in the driver seat. She switches it as they start up, following Theobald down the road.

“So many people,” the shadow whispers. “I can taste them, ripe for the harvest.”

“No,” Alaric grinds out. “You won’t touch my Clan.”

“They’re dull, flavorless. Not like you.”

Alaric swears the shadow licks its lips before it laughs again, the sound full of chimes and gravel.

Theobald veers from the main path, the road getting narrower and rougher as they go. Alaric can’t remember the last time he’s been out to the Berman place; it’s been empty for almost ten years. They came to the community when he was a toddler, and left not long after the Emergence. He barely remembers them, other than the vague memory that they had a daughter only a year older than himself, Drea, and Corbin.

“I’m going to need you to hold it here on your own,” Pawel says quietly. “Do you have enough energy left for that, Rory?”

“When this is done, I’m going to sleep for a week, then eat like I’m Clan,” Rory mutters. “Yeah. I’ll do my best.”

Theobald yanks open the back door of the SUV. “You can bring it in here. Do whatever you want to this place; it’s far enough from the rest of my Clan not to taint them. No one will live here again.”

“It’s just magic.” Pawel disengages slowly, hands out, making sure that the shadow remains trapped with Rory. “You’re magic. We’re all magic. Emergent, Lineage, Clan, Mage… it doesn’t matter. We all have our roots in the same power.”

Theobald’s lip curls; it’s obvious that he’s not impressed.

“Let him do what he needs to do,” Alaric growls, and Theobald snarls in return.

“I’ll go with them.” Mac’s shoulders are stiff, her scent flat and angry. “I can take care of myself and Pawel, and I can certainly take care of your father, if it comes to that.”

Compared to Theobald, Mac’s tiny and fast, but nothing impressive. At the same time, Alaric doesn’t doubt her capability, and wonders if Theobald will underestimate her. “I’ll stay with Rory.”

Mac nods, turns to follow Pawel and Theobald inside.

“Why here?” Rory asks, and the shadow laughs.

“Can’t you feel the way this place is steeped in magic?” the shadow whispers. “Threaded through the land, woven into the wood of the house. The foundation is built on magic; the darkness already swallowed it once. Give it time. It will spread, despite what he tries to keep it at bay.”

“Stop talking,” Alaric mutters, and the shadow goes silent. Rory’s breath eases slowly, and Alaric twists in his seat, manages to get a hand back to rest on Rory’s shoulder in silent strength.

Alaric closes his eyes for a moment, centers himself as he inhales deeply. The shadow is a dank scent invading his senses, but he can catch hints of something similar in the space around them: sifting in through the window, the moldy remains of something left behind. He wrinkles his nose, almost sneezes.

He refuses to admit that the shadow might be right.

He jerks upright when the back door opens again, Pawel leaning in. “Come on, Rory, let’s get this inside.”

“It… this… am I not a person?” The shadow’s features shift, taking on an almost feminine cast. It untangles itself, unfolds into something spiky and not quite human, as if it mimics life rather than is a part of it. They rush it indoors, pushing past where Theobald waits. Rory and Pawel manage to wrestle the shadow into one corner of the room and release it, stepping back quickly as it bursts into a flow of darkness all around them, then recedes.

It stands on two legs when it’s done, hands pressed against an unseen wall. “I am as human as you are,” it whispers. “There are none of us that remain untouched.”

“I don’t like this,” Theobald snarls. “This place is fouled.”

“I don’t like you,” the shadow hisses. “You fouled this place as much as I do. There are cracks in your Clan, cracks in the earth that let things bubble through. The split will break apart, and you’ll fall in, Theobald Herne. Let the split swallow you, let it take you home.”

The wolf returns, darting forward, only stopping at a sharp call of Theobald’s name from the doorway. It cries out, sits back on its haunches at Alia’s voice. She stays where she is, arms crossed, lips pressed thin.

The shadow cocks its head. “Alia Herne. There are few things that are the same between the worlds and you are one. Bedrock.”

“What is it talking about?” Rory slumps next to Alaric, leans on him when Alaric gets an arm around him.

Alaric shakes his head. “No idea.”

“Some historians used to think that Dreamwalkers and Shadowwalkers were the same thing,” Pawel says idly. “Both were able to move between realities, and both were unknown legends. But we’ve tracked and found Dreamwalkers, and until now, there’s been no proven sighting of a Shadowwalker.”

Alia comes forward slowly, twists a hand in Theobald’s ruff. He comes back to human in a crouch, head bowed forward under her touch, gaze fixed on the shadow.

“Did you kill Orson?” Theobald asks quietly.

A soft, dark chuckle. “He was delicious.”

Theobald’s lip curls; his growl matches Alaric’s.

Rory rests a hand on Alaric’s forearm, but Alaric shakes his head. “I’m okay,” he says. He can keep control here. He can stay human.

He’s not entirely certain about his father.

Theobald seems to flicker between human and wolf, even under Alia’s touch. The shadow laughs again, steps back and crosses shadowy arms.

“Most of you would all taste good enough,” the shadow muses. “I’d save her for the main course,” it nods at Mac, “and sip him for afters, like a sweet dessert wine.” It stares at Rory. “You couldn’t even defend yourself now, little Mage, could you? I can feel the exhaustion dripping from you, seeping magic into the air. You’ve never taken so much for so long.”

Rory blinks. “I don’t take anything. I just stop it.”

“So you say.”

“Leave me.” Theobald pushes to his feet, stalks to the very edge of the shadow’s confinement. He stands almost toe to toe with the thing, and it stares back at him, elongates until it looks down on him. Theobald growls low in his throat, air thick with fury. “Leave me with it.”

“I don’t think that’s the best—”

Theobald cuts Pawel off. “Is it contained?”

“For now.” Pawel gestures at the ceiling, then the floor. “This isn’t a perfect situation, and the containment will need to be updated—”

“I won’t take that long.”

“You can’t go in with it,” Alaric says sharply. “It’ll steal your soul.”

“Not his,” the shadow replies, voice flat. “He’s bitter. Cold. Flat and tasteless. There is nothing of him that I want. Let him stay, let him try his worst. I don’t care.”

Alaric inhales, tastes no lie on the air. He has no idea if shadows have tells in their scent, no clue if he should worry. When Pawel looks to him, Alaric shrugs and looks to Alia instead. “Mom?”

“I think your father is making a poor decision, but it is his right to make that decision.” Alia’s fingers drift along Theobald’s cheek briefly before she steps back. “We’ll go.”

Alaric ushers the others out first. Mac slips an arm around Rory’s waist, and Rory leans on her as they exit, Pawel trailing slowly in their wake. Alia’s touch slows Alaric’s steps, and he lingers just outside the door.

In the fresh air, the dank scent of the shadow lingers but isn’t nearly as oppressive. There’s a clarity in Alaric’s mind now, and he catches a whiff of ozone that isn’t Pawel or Rory, but something else. Something deeper that might be a part of this place. He tilts his head, nostrils flaring.

“Your father is calling a conclave for the New Year,” Alia says. Alaric shifts his attention to her, how she stands with her hands clasped in front, as if there’s nothing odd about the old Berman homestead. She raises her eyebrows, questioning silently.

“No.” Alaric knows what it will be, as all the Clan of the northeast and perhaps further west come to Haverhill, gathering to discuss what has happened. “He won’t allow me to lead this Clan, and I refuse to take part in something that is solely a means to an end he wants to put in place. I will not start a war against the Mages.”

“Then speak against it,” Alia says plainly.

Alaric snorts. “He won’t allow it, and you know that as well as I do. If I am there, I am there only as his heir. I have no voice, no vote of my own. I am there to show that despite Orson’s death, and despite every infirmity I have, his line will go on. I won’t blindly follow him. His case will be hurt more if I’m not by his side.”

“You could have a say, if you simply say it,” Alia says, and Alaric shakes his head.

It isn’t that simple. He’s been fighting with Theobald for so long that it feels ingrained under his skin, a part of who they are. “He would muzzle me,” Alaric says quietly. “Until he is ready to let me lead by his side, I can’t lead this Clan. I’m sorry, Mom.”

She reaches for him, pulls his head down so she can rub her cheek against his. He wraps his arms around her and leans on her as if he’s still a child, taking comfort in her scent. There is strength here.

“He’s going to destroy us,” Alaric whispers.

“I won’t let him,” Alia murmurs, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “And neither will you.” She steps back, pats his chest. “Now go, Alaric. You still have finals, and your friends are exhausted. We will see you when we come to get you and your sister for break.”

Alaric hesitates, glances past her at the door that lies closed. He can’t hear anything from inside, can’t smell blood or anger. He has no idea what’s happening, and it worries him. “You’ll let me know if anything happens,” he says, and Alia nods.

“Nothing is going to happen.” She walks, and he goes with her, lingering for one more hug when they reach the SUV. “Go home, Alaric. You’ve brought him the evidence he needed. Give him time with it, time to understand. Make your case when you come home for the holidays. He’ll listen then.”

Alaric isn’t so sure. As they pull away, all he can think is that he left his father alone with the shadow, and he doesn’t know what’s going to happen next.

[ Previous | First | Next ]

[jonathanbelloblog]

Torque, Thrust: 2019 Ram 2500 / 3500 HD First Drive

To an outsider, the launch of Ram’s new heavy-duty pickups might seem like a symphony of chest thumping. After all, Fiat-Chrysler’s engineers trumpeted the new Ram’s best-in-class 1,000 lb-ft of torque and 35,100-lb towing capacity when it debuted.

But a week or so later—and three weeks before we were allowed to tell you how the new Ram trucks drive—Chevrolet announced a 35,500-pound towing capacity for the Silverado 3500. Meanwhile, Ford also showed off its revised F-series Super Duty, with a promise of increased but as-yet unspecified towing numbers. It wouldn’t surprise us if Ram finds a way to up its own specs (“You can tow more if you remove the window glass!”), because the HD-truck arms race will continue unabated until the sun swells up and swallows the earth.

Thing is, though, the new HD Ram doesn’t need to brag on its numbers. That’s because it follows in the tread marks of its redone-for-’19 half-ton sibling, the Ram 1500, which is the nicest and best truck on the market. And if sales of the light-duty 1500 are any indication, the public is figuring that out.

Rugged Luxury

It’s no secret that pickups have been getting posher over the years, but Ram has taken things to a new level. It proudly boasts that its top-of-the-line HD models have more leather and wood than any other pickup, and we’re content to take the company’s word for it. The Limited model has leather on the seats, leather on the console, leather on the dash, leather on the door panels, and leather on the gear selector. And where there isn’t leather, there’s open-pore wood trim that looks freshly hewn. If cowboys designed Bentleys, this is what they’d look like.

Among the impressive elements about the new truck are the lengths Ram went to in order to differentiate the trim levels. Every model has its own personality, reflected in its interior accents, fabric choices, grillework, and even the fonts used on the instruments. Sit in a low-level Tradesman or Big Horn, then check out a top-of-the-line Longhorn or Limited, and they feel almost like completely different trucks. It’s a real contrast to GMC’s latest Sierra, in which there’s little differentiation between the top-line Denali and lower trims.

In-vehicle technology shares the spotlight. Ram offers three sizes of touchscreens, the largest of which is a 12.0-inch, vertically oriented monster that allows two standard-size views (for example, the climate-control display and the audio system) to be displayed at one time. It can also show a giant map in full-screen mode, very handy when one is hauling a heavy trailer and needs to preview the road ahead with a critical eye.

But even the bottom-of-the-line Tradesman, outfitted with commercial-grade vinyl seats, a plastic dash, and the smallest available display, shows an attribute we’re not used to seeing in heavy-duty trucks: refinement. Whether you opt for the 6.4-liter gas V-8 or the famed 6.7-liter Cummins diesel, the truck is surprisingly quiet, something Ram went to great lengths to achieve with improved sound deadening, an acoustic windshield, and an active noise-cancellation system for top-of-the-line models.

The Dirty Bits

Naturally, there has been much beefing up of the mechanicals. We’ll leave the technical deep dive to our colleagues at Truck Trend, and instead hit the highlights. The frame and axles have been strengthened, and the suspension geometry revised to improve ride and handling. The shocks are valved to provide variable response to softer or harsher inputs, and optional rear air-spring leveling is offered on both the 2500 and 3500 that not only self-levels the truck, but also gives it the ability to squat down under a trailer hitch and then raise itself to hook up.

2500 models have a five-link rear suspension, which does wonders for the ride. It doesn’t seem that long ago that heavy-duty trucks rode like, well, heavy-duty trucks. The 2500 models feel as steady as the half-ton trucks of not-too-long-ago, and while the 3500s get leaf springs in the rear and are noticeably harsher, they’re still surprisingly comfortable given their ability to haul up to 7,680 pounds in the bed.

Last year’s 5.7-liter gasoline V-8 has been dropped; the base engine is now the 6.4-liter gas V-8, which returns with 410 horsepower and 429 lb-ft of torque and a new eight-speed automatic. But it was the Cummins turbo-diesel that put Ram HDs on the map, and it’s been extensively updated. The 6.7-liter straight-six now makes 370 horses and 850 lb-ft in standard trim, and—warning, headline material ahead—400 horsepower and 1,000 lb-ft of torque in high-output form. Currently, the Chevy tops out at 910 lb-ft and the Ford at 935. For perspective, the base engine in a new Peterbilt 579 semi makes 1,150 lb-ft. Both versions of the diesel get six-speed automatics, but while the standard-output engine gets a beefed-up Chrysler transmission, the high-output version gets an Aisin unit.

Cummins did a lot of work on the engine to facilitate the upgrades, including a new compacted graphite iron (CGI) block, a redesigned cylinder head, a new turbocharger, and a 2,900-psi fuel system. The strength of the CGI block allowed many of the nonstructural components to be switched from iron to aluminum, and as a result the new engine is 60 pounds lighter. FCA engineers had to increase the size of the cooling system, and were rather pleased that they were able to do it without altering the Ram’s signature styling.

The Part Where We Drive

We started our drive in a 3500 regular-cab Big Horn, one step up from the entry-level Tradesman, with a V-8 engine up front and a 1,500-ish-pound load in the bed. With an interior done up in black plastic, the truck was all about function over form, but we were impressed by the simplicity of the layout and the quality of even those basic materials, which is more than we can say for Ram trucks of just a few years back. Big mirrors and a commendable lack of bulges on the hood make the big Ram as easy to drive as a half-ton.

Our second truck, a 2500 Limited crew-cab with the stoutest diesel, was a real cowboy Cadillac, awash in leather and wood and featuring the massive 12.0-inch vertical infotainment screen. We’re not totally convinced about the latter—we prefer real buttons for the climate controls versus a touch-screen, though perhaps owners will grow familiar and won’t mind. Only the column shifter, an unbending affair that looks as if it were made from a piece of bar-stock steel, stood out as slightly awkward. But the overwhelming impression was that it’s a lovely truck to drive, with a comfortable ride, a dearth of engine and road noise, and power, power, power.

Naturally, we towed a trailer—a 30-something-foot fifth-wheel palace for horses and people. In terms of towing and hauling technology, Ram offers a comprehensive camera package, including a wiring harness for a remote camera that can be mounted on the back of (or inside) your trailer. The trucks also have an automatic emergency braking system which can trigger the trailer brakes or be disabled if you’re towing horses. We were more impressed by Smart Brake, a feature that’s been on Ram HDs for some time. Put the exhaust brake in Smart mode, take your foot off the accelerator, and it will use the transmission and exhaust brake to maintain the same speed as you cruise downhill. Very cool—and very safe.

We also did some off-roading in the new Power Wagon, the 2500-based macho version of the Ram HD, which benefits from the new eight-speed automatic that gives it a 50:1 crawl ratio. The built-in winch (which precludes the Wagon from getting the diesel engine) now uses a synthetic cable in place of steel, saving 28 pounds. We hit some pretty intense trails in Hungry Valley, one of which required some help from the winch (with another Power Wagon as the anchor point). Suffice it to say that it’s a great off-roader on trails big enough to accommodate a truck its size—and anything the Power Wagon can’t fit through, it can probably knock over.

As for pricing, the cheapest HD, a 2500 4×2 regular-cab Tradesman, starts at $35,090, including the $1,695 destination fee. 3500s start at $36,540. Power Wagons begin at $54,595 and Mega Cabs at $48,195. The most expensive model, a 3500 4×4 Limited with the Mega Cab, starts at $68,745. Want a diesel? You’ll pay $9,100 extra for the standard-output version and $11,795 for the beefier one. Other option costs have not yet been announced, but based on the current truck, we could be looking at Ram trucks closing in on—and maybe passing—$100,000.

As sure as the sun will cross the sky, truck fans will spend thousands of hours bragging and debating the various capacities of different rigs. The Ram HD may or may not be the most capable on the market at any given moment, but it’s clear to us that it’s the nicest and easiest-to-live-with heavy-duty truck on the market—and we don’t see that changing any time soon.

2019 Ram 2500/3500 HD Specifications

ON SALE  mid-2019 BASE PRICE RANGE  $35,090–$68,745 ENGINES  6.4L OHV 16-valve V-8, 410 hp @ 5,600 rpm, 429 lb-ft @ 4,000 rpm; 6.7L turbocharged OHV 24-valve diesel I-6, 370 hp @ 2,800 rpm and 850 lb-ft @ 1,700 rpm or 400 hp @ 2,800 rpm and 1,000 lb-ft @ 1,800 rpm TRANSMISSION  6- or 8-speed automatic LAYOUT  2- or 4-door, 2–5 passenger, front-engine, rear- or 4WD truck L x W x H  232.0–260.8 x 83.4–96.5 x 77.8–80.9 in WHEELBASE  140.0–169.1 in

IFTTT

[eddiejpoplar]

Torque, Thrust: 2019 Ram 2500 / 3500 HD First Drive

To an outsider, the launch of Ram’s new heavy-duty pickups might seem like a symphony of chest thumping. After all, Fiat-Chrysler’s engineers trumpeted the new Ram’s best-in-class 1,000 lb-ft of torque and 35,100-lb towing capacity when it debuted.

But a week or so later—and three weeks before we were allowed to tell you how the new Ram trucks drive—Chevrolet announced a 35,500-pound towing capacity for the Silverado 3500. Meanwhile, Ford also showed off its revised F-series Super Duty, with a promise of increased but as-yet unspecified towing numbers. It wouldn’t surprise us if Ram finds a way to up its own specs (“You can tow more if you remove the window glass!”), because the HD-truck arms race will continue unabated until the sun swells up and swallows the earth.

Thing is, though, the new HD Ram doesn’t need to brag on its numbers. That’s because it follows in the tread marks of its redone-for-’19 half-ton sibling, the Ram 1500, which is the nicest and best truck on the market. And if sales of the light-duty 1500 are any indication, the public is figuring that out.

Rugged Luxury

It’s no secret that pickups have been getting posher over the years, but Ram has taken things to a new level. It proudly boasts that its top-of-the-line HD models have more leather and wood than any other pickup, and we’re content to take the company’s word for it. The Limited model has leather on the seats, leather on the console, leather on the dash, leather on the door panels, and leather on the gear selector. And where there isn’t leather, there’s open-pore wood trim that looks freshly hewn. If cowboys designed Bentleys, this is what they’d look like.

Among the impressive elements about the new truck are the lengths Ram went to in order to differentiate the trim levels. Every model has its own personality, reflected in its interior accents, fabric choices, grillework, and even the fonts used on the instruments. Sit in a low-level Tradesman or Big Horn, then check out a top-of-the-line Longhorn or Limited, and they feel almost like completely different trucks. It’s a real contrast to GMC’s latest Sierra, in which there’s little differentiation between the top-line Denali and lower trims.

In-vehicle technology shares the spotlight. Ram offers three sizes of touchscreens, the largest of which is a 12.0-inch, vertically oriented monster that allows two standard-size views (for example, the climate-control display and the audio system) to be displayed at one time. It can also show a giant map in full-screen mode, very handy when one is hauling a heavy trailer and needs to preview the road ahead with a critical eye.

But even the bottom-of-the-line Tradesman, outfitted with commercial-grade vinyl seats, a plastic dash, and the smallest available display, shows an attribute we’re not used to seeing in heavy-duty trucks: refinement. Whether you opt for the 6.4-liter gas V-8 or the famed 6.7-liter Cummins diesel, the truck is surprisingly quiet, something Ram went to great lengths to achieve with improved sound deadening, an acoustic windshield, and an active noise-cancellation system for top-of-the-line models.

The Dirty Bits

Naturally, there has been much beefing up of the mechanicals. We’ll leave the technical deep dive to our colleagues at Truck Trend, and instead hit the highlights. The frame and axles have been strengthened, and the suspension geometry revised to improve ride and handling. The shocks are valved to provide variable response to softer or harsher inputs, and optional rear air-spring leveling is offered on both the 2500 and 3500 that not only self-levels the truck, but also gives it the ability to squat down under a trailer hitch and then raise itself to hook up.

2500 models have a five-link rear suspension, which does wonders for the ride. It doesn’t seem that long ago that heavy-duty trucks rode like, well, heavy-duty trucks. The 2500 models feel as steady as the half-ton trucks of not-too-long-ago, and while the 3500s get leaf springs in the rear and are noticeably harsher, they’re still surprisingly comfortable given their ability to haul up to 7,680 pounds in the bed.

Last year’s 5.7-liter gasoline V-8 has been dropped; the base engine is now the 6.4-liter gas V-8, which returns with 410 horsepower and 429 lb-ft of torque and a new eight-speed automatic. But it was the Cummins turbo-diesel that put Ram HDs on the map, and it’s been extensively updated. The 6.7-liter straight-six now makes 370 horses and 850 lb-ft in standard trim, and—warning, headline material ahead—400 horsepower and 1,000 lb-ft of torque in high-output form. Currently, the Chevy tops out at 910 lb-ft and the Ford at 935. For perspective, the base engine in a new Peterbilt 579 semi makes 1,150 lb-ft. Both versions of the diesel get six-speed automatics, but while the standard-output engine gets a beefed-up Chrysler transmission, the high-output version gets an Aisin unit.

Cummins did a lot of work on the engine to facilitate the upgrades, including a new compacted graphite iron (CGI) block, a redesigned cylinder head, a new turbocharger, and a 2,900-psi fuel system. The strength of the CGI block allowed many of the nonstructural components to be switched from iron to aluminum, and as a result the new engine is 60 pounds lighter. FCA engineers had to increase the size of the cooling system, and were rather pleased that they were able to do it without altering the Ram’s signature styling.

The Part Where We Drive

We started our drive in a 3500 regular-cab Big Horn, one step up from the entry-level Tradesman, with a V-8 engine up front and a 1,500-ish-pound load in the bed. With an interior done up in black plastic, the truck was all about function over form, but we were impressed by the simplicity of the layout and the quality of even those basic materials, which is more than we can say for Ram trucks of just a few years back. Big mirrors and a commendable lack of bulges on the hood make the big Ram as easy to drive as a half-ton.

Our second truck, a 2500 Limited crew-cab with the stoutest diesel, was a real cowboy Cadillac, awash in leather and wood and featuring the massive 12.0-inch vertical infotainment screen. We’re not totally convinced about the latter—we prefer real buttons for the climate controls versus a touch-screen, though perhaps owners will grow familiar and won’t mind. Only the column shifter, an unbending affair that looks as if it were made from a piece of bar-stock steel, stood out as slightly awkward. But the overwhelming impression was that it’s a lovely truck to drive, with a comfortable ride, a dearth of engine and road noise, and power, power, power.

Naturally, we towed a trailer—a 30-something-foot fifth-wheel palace for horses and people. In terms of towing and hauling technology, Ram offers a comprehensive camera package, including a wiring harness for a remote camera that can be mounted on the back of (or inside) your trailer. The trucks also have an automatic emergency braking system which can trigger the trailer brakes or be disabled if you’re towing horses. We were more impressed by Smart Brake, a feature that’s been on Ram HDs for some time. Put the exhaust brake in Smart mode, take your foot off the accelerator, and it will use the transmission and exhaust brake to maintain the same speed as you cruise downhill. Very cool—and very safe.

We also did some off-roading in the new Power Wagon, the 2500-based macho version of the Ram HD, which benefits from the new eight-speed automatic that gives it a 50:1 crawl ratio. The built-in winch (which precludes the Wagon from getting the diesel engine) now uses a synthetic cable in place of steel, saving 28 pounds. We hit some pretty intense trails in Hungry Valley, one of which required some help from the winch (with another Power Wagon as the anchor point). Suffice it to say that it’s a great off-roader on trails big enough to accommodate a truck its size—and anything the Power Wagon can’t fit through, it can probably knock over.

As for pricing, the cheapest HD, a 2500 4×2 regular-cab Tradesman, starts at $35,090, including the $1,695 destination fee. 3500s start at $36,540. Power Wagons begin at $54,595 and Mega Cabs at $48,195. The most expensive model, a 3500 4×4 Limited with the Mega Cab, starts at $68,745. Want a diesel? You’ll pay $9,100 extra for the standard-output version and $11,795 for the beefier one. Other option costs have not yet been announced, but based on the current truck, we could be looking at Ram trucks closing in on—and maybe passing—$100,000.

As sure as the sun will cross the sky, truck fans will spend thousands of hours bragging and debating the various capacities of different rigs. The Ram HD may or may not be the most capable on the market at any given moment, but it’s clear to us that it’s the nicest and easiest-to-live-with heavy-duty truck on the market—and we don’t see that changing any time soon.

2019 Ram 2500/3500 HD Specifications

ON SALE  mid-2019 BASE PRICE RANGE  $35,090–$68,745 ENGINES  6.4L OHV 16-valve V-8, 410 hp @ 5,600 rpm, 429 lb-ft @ 4,000 rpm; 6.7L turbocharged OHV 24-valve diesel I-6, 370 hp @ 2,800 rpm and 850 lb-ft @ 1,700 rpm or 400 hp @ 2,800 rpm and 1,000 lb-ft @ 1,800 rpm TRANSMISSION  6- or 8-speed automatic LAYOUT  2- or 4-door, 2–5 passenger, front-engine, rear- or 4WD truck L x W x H  232.0–260.8 x 83.4–96.5 x 77.8–80.9 in WHEELBASE  140.0–169.1 in

IFTTT

[jesusvasser]

Torque, Thrust: 2019 Ram 2500 / 3500 HD First Drive

To an outsider, the launch of Ram’s new heavy-duty pickups might seem like a symphony of chest thumping. After all, Fiat-Chrysler’s engineers trumpeted the new Ram’s best-in-class 1,000 lb-ft of torque and 35,100-lb towing capacity when it debuted.

But a week or so later—and three weeks before we were allowed to tell you how the new Ram trucks drive—Chevrolet announced a 35,500-pound towing capacity for the Silverado 3500. Meanwhile, Ford also showed off its revised F-series Super Duty, with a promise of increased but as-yet unspecified towing numbers. It wouldn’t surprise us if Ram finds a way to up its own specs (“You can tow more if you remove the window glass!”), because the HD-truck arms race will continue unabated until the sun swells up and swallows the earth.

Thing is, though, the new HD Ram doesn’t need to brag on its numbers. That’s because it follows in the tread marks of its redone-for-’19 half-ton sibling, the Ram 1500, which is the nicest and best truck on the market. And if sales of the light-duty 1500 are any indication, the public is figuring that out.

Rugged Luxury

It’s no secret that pickups have been getting posher over the years, but Ram has taken things to a new level. It proudly boasts that its top-of-the-line HD models have more leather and wood than any other pickup, and we’re content to take the company’s word for it. The Limited model has leather on the seats, leather on the console, leather on the dash, leather on the door panels, and leather on the gear selector. And where there isn’t leather, there’s open-pore wood trim that looks freshly hewn. If cowboys designed Bentleys, this is what they’d look like.

Among the impressive elements about the new truck are the lengths Ram went to in order to differentiate the trim levels. Every model has its own personality, reflected in its interior accents, fabric choices, grillework, and even the fonts used on the instruments. Sit in a low-level Tradesman or Big Horn, then check out a top-of-the-line Longhorn or Limited, and they feel almost like completely different trucks. It’s a real contrast to GMC’s latest Sierra, in which there’s little differentiation between the top-line Denali and lower trims.

In-vehicle technology shares the spotlight. Ram offers three sizes of touchscreens, the largest of which is a 12.0-inch, vertically oriented monster that allows two standard-size views (for example, the climate-control display and the audio system) to be displayed at one time. It can also show a giant map in full-screen mode, very handy when one is hauling a heavy trailer and needs to preview the road ahead with a critical eye.

But even the bottom-of-the-line Tradesman, outfitted with commercial-grade vinyl seats, a plastic dash, and the smallest available display, shows an attribute we’re not used to seeing in heavy-duty trucks: refinement. Whether you opt for the 6.4-liter gas V-8 or the famed 6.7-liter Cummins diesel, the truck is surprisingly quiet, something Ram went to great lengths to achieve with improved sound deadening, an acoustic windshield, and an active noise-cancellation system for top-of-the-line models.

The Dirty Bits

Naturally, there has been much beefing up of the mechanicals. We’ll leave the technical deep dive to our colleagues at Truck Trend, and instead hit the highlights. The frame and axles have been strengthened, and the suspension geometry revised to improve ride and handling. The shocks are valved to provide variable response to softer or harsher inputs, and optional rear air-spring leveling is offered on both the 2500 and 3500 that not only self-levels the truck, but also gives it the ability to squat down under a trailer hitch and then raise itself to hook up.

2500 models have a five-link rear suspension, which does wonders for the ride. It doesn’t seem that long ago that heavy-duty trucks rode like, well, heavy-duty trucks. The 2500 models feel as steady as the half-ton trucks of not-too-long-ago, and while the 3500s get leaf springs in the rear and are noticeably harsher, they’re still surprisingly comfortable given their ability to haul up to 7,680 pounds in the bed.

Last year’s 5.7-liter gasoline V-8 has been dropped; the base engine is now the 6.4-liter gas V-8, which returns with 410 horsepower and 429 lb-ft of torque and a new eight-speed automatic. But it was the Cummins turbo-diesel that put Ram HDs on the map, and it’s been extensively updated. The 6.7-liter straight-six now makes 370 horses and 850 lb-ft in standard trim, and—warning, headline material ahead—400 horsepower and 1,000 lb-ft of torque in high-output form. Currently, the Chevy tops out at 910 lb-ft and the Ford at 935. For perspective, the base engine in a new Peterbilt 579 semi makes 1,150 lb-ft. Both versions of the diesel get six-speed automatics, but while the standard-output engine gets a beefed-up Chrysler transmission, the high-output version gets an Aisin unit.

Cummins did a lot of work on the engine to facilitate the upgrades, including a new compacted graphite iron (CGI) block, a redesigned cylinder head, a new turbocharger, and a 2,900-psi fuel system. The strength of the CGI block allowed many of the nonstructural components to be switched from iron to aluminum, and as a result the new engine is 60 pounds lighter. FCA engineers had to increase the size of the cooling system, and were rather pleased that they were able to do it without altering the Ram’s signature styling.

The Part Where We Drive

We started our drive in a 3500 regular-cab Big Horn, one step up from the entry-level Tradesman, with a V-8 engine up front and a 1,500-ish-pound load in the bed. With an interior done up in black plastic, the truck was all about function over form, but we were impressed by the simplicity of the layout and the quality of even those basic materials, which is more than we can say for Ram trucks of just a few years back. Big mirrors and a commendable lack of bulges on the hood make the big Ram as easy to drive as a half-ton.

Our second truck, a 2500 Limited crew-cab with the stoutest diesel, was a real cowboy Cadillac, awash in leather and wood and featuring the massive 12.0-inch vertical infotainment screen. We’re not totally convinced about the latter—we prefer real buttons for the climate controls versus a touch-screen, though perhaps owners will grow familiar and won’t mind. Only the column shifter, an unbending affair that looks as if it were made from a piece of bar-stock steel, stood out as slightly awkward. But the overwhelming impression was that it’s a lovely truck to drive, with a comfortable ride, a dearth of engine and road noise, and power, power, power.

Naturally, we towed a trailer—a 30-something-foot fifth-wheel palace for horses and people. In terms of towing and hauling technology, Ram offers a comprehensive camera package, including a wiring harness for a remote camera that can be mounted on the back of (or inside) your trailer. The trucks also have an automatic emergency braking system which can trigger the trailer brakes or be disabled if you’re towing horses. We were more impressed by Smart Brake, a feature that’s been on Ram HDs for some time. Put the exhaust brake in Smart mode, take your foot off the accelerator, and it will use the transmission and exhaust brake to maintain the same speed as you cruise downhill. Very cool—and very safe.

We also did some off-roading in the new Power Wagon, the 2500-based macho version of the Ram HD, which benefits from the new eight-speed automatic that gives it a 50:1 crawl ratio. The built-in winch (which precludes the Wagon from getting the diesel engine) now uses a synthetic cable in place of steel, saving 28 pounds. We hit some pretty intense trails in Hungry Valley, one of which required some help from the winch (with another Power Wagon as the anchor point). Suffice it to say that it’s a great off-roader on trails big enough to accommodate a truck its size—and anything the Power Wagon can’t fit through, it can probably knock over.

As for pricing, the cheapest HD, a 2500 4×2 regular-cab Tradesman, starts at $35,090, including the $1,695 destination fee. 3500s start at $36,540. Power Wagons begin at $54,595 and Mega Cabs at $48,195. The most expensive model, a 3500 4×4 Limited with the Mega Cab, starts at $68,745. Want a diesel? You’ll pay $9,100 extra for the standard-output version and $11,795 for the beefier one. Other option costs have not yet been announced, but based on the current truck, we could be looking at Ram trucks closing in on—and maybe passing—$100,000.

As sure as the sun will cross the sky, truck fans will spend thousands of hours bragging and debating the various capacities of different rigs. The Ram HD may or may not be the most capable on the market at any given moment, but it’s clear to us that it’s the nicest and easiest-to-live-with heavy-duty truck on the market—and we don’t see that changing any time soon.

2019 Ram 2500/3500 HD Specifications

ON SALE  mid-2019 BASE PRICE RANGE  $35,090–$68,745 ENGINES  6.4L OHV 16-valve V-8, 410 hp @ 5,600 rpm, 429 lb-ft @ 4,000 rpm; 6.7L turbocharged OHV 24-valve diesel I-6, 370 hp @ 2,800 rpm and 850 lb-ft @ 1,700 rpm or 400 hp @ 2,800 rpm and 1,000 lb-ft @ 1,800 rpm TRANSMISSION  6- or 8-speed automatic LAYOUT  2- or 4-door, 2–5 passenger, front-engine, rear- or 4WD truck L x W x H  232.0–260.8 x 83.4–96.5 x 77.8–80.9 in WHEELBASE  140.0–169.1 in

IFTTT