#shingle fields

[teddy-bear-naps-and-random-snaps]

[salaishop]

Traditional Landscape Boston Inspiration for a sizable, traditional, summertime stone landscaping front yard.

[fleurducap]

Pool Boston

An enormous traditional backyard fountain with a rectangular lap pool is an example.

[chocolatespacemuffins]

Miami Traditional Porch An example of a large traditional front porch design with decking and a roof extension.

[7-oh-ta1]

Harness shopping for my cat is probably THE most stressful thing in the universe because if he gets loose it IS the end of the world. He's a master of the "shrink and back up" technique

[puckinghischier]

Nervous

Jack Hughes x fem!reader, smitten!Jack

summary: request for jack and reader on their wedding day

notes: this is my first time writing anything for jack and i literally had so much fun with it. i hope you guys like it 😌

[2.6k]

~

Jack had never been this nervous before. Not during games, not on his draft day, not on the night of his rookie debut, and not in any circumstance that he can remember. Ever. He’s not usually the type to dwell on feelings of nerves, trusting his skill and his ability to focus on the task at hand to get the job done.

Today, though, is the most nerve-wracking day of his life. It’s his wedding day, for crying out loud. The day he gets to marry the girl that has been there for every major event of his life. The girl that has never missed a Devils home game. The girl that he’s pretty sure his family loves more than him. The girl that has stuck by him through every hardship and crazy hockey season so far. His girl. The girl he gets to make his wife.

Hell, he wasn’t even this nervous when he asked you to marry him. He recalls the day as if it happened mere hours ago, not a year and a half earlier.

“Jack, where are we going? I thought you said you had an event with the team tonight? You���re going to be late,” you ask, noticing you’re driving further and further away from the city.

You had been doing laundry, trying to get ahead on some chores you had been neglecting, when Jack had come into the living room and told you to put your shoes on, he wanted to take you somewhere. You had asked him where, and if you needed to change, but he simply shook his head no and told you it was a surprise. This wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for Jack. You just assumed he found a new ice cream place he thought you would love, or some quaint little coffee shop he knew you’d like.

You didn’t think anything of it until you found yourself watching the city disappear into the distance almost forty-five minutes later, no destination in sight.

“We’re almost there, darling. Don’t worry that pretty little head of yours,” is all he said, taking his eyes off the road for only a moment to flash one of his soft smiles in your direction before continuing to drive.

You sit in the comfortable silence, a slow country ballad playing softly on the radio. Jack’s hand resting on your thigh adding a much-needed warmth to your body, not having grabbed a jacket before he dragged you out of your shared apartment. You watch the road around you become surrounded by trees, admiring the greenery that seems so hard to come by in the city.

Before you realize it, too lost in your own thoughts, Jack is turning off of the paved road you were traveling onto a dirt road, clouds of dust billowing behind the car. You lean forward a bit, trying to take in the scenery to find any sort of clue as to where you were. You’re just about to ask where he’s taking you, yet again, when you see the most beautiful scene appear through the windshield.

At the end of the road stood a large red barn, aged in all the right ways. The red was slightly faded, showcasing the years of sun damage and there were pieces of the shingled roof missing, lost in the wind who knows how long ago. Off to the left of the barn was a large area surrounded by a wooden fence, a few horses grazing on the bright green grass. The sun was just beginning to set, causing one side of the barn to be coated in golden sunlight, the other side blanketed in a shadow. As Jack turned the car to enter the field where the barn sat, you noticed the obscene number of lights strung high into the trees covered by the shadow of the barn, giving the effect that little drops of sunlight were dripping from the limbs.

“Jack…what- where are we?” You ask him, disbelief lacing your tone.

“Just a little place I stumbled across with Luke one day. We were out for a drive, just wanting out of the city for a few hours. Found this place and instantly thought of you. Knew I had to bring you here,” he reveals, parking the car and turning off the engine.

Jack opens his door to get out of the car and quickly moves to open yours, taking your hand while leading the two of you over to the forest of lights. You’re so busy looking up at the sight in the trees that you miss the large, wooden arch set up in the middle of the two biggest trees in the mini forest. There were a few hay-bales on each side of the arch, large bouquets of white daisies placed all over the bales, with some even bunched around the top corners of the square arch.

Once you take in the scene in front of you, you turn your head to look at Jack, finding his eyes already on you.

“Jack, you have about three seconds to tell me what’s going on here,” you calmly tell him, even though your stomach felt like it was doing summersaults.

“I told you, I wanted to show this place to you. Thought you’d like it.” His lips curled into an amused smile once he noticed the glare on your face, knowing you were calling his bluff.

“I wanted to show you this place, because I knew you’d like it. Because I know you. How lucky I am to know you,” he begins, slowly moving you forward until you’re standing directly in front of the arch.

“How lucky I am that I’m the person you chose to trust with your heart. How lucky I am to be able to come home to you after a hard day. How lucky I am to be the recipient of your kindness and your love. How lucky I am to bask in your happiness and your spirit day after day. How lucky I am that you put up with the crazy world I live in, and do it without complaint.”

Your hands were starting to shake at this point, eyes watering.

“What I did to deserve all of this, I’ll never know. But I know I’ll never take it for granted. I’ll never take you for granted. And if you’ll let me, I’ll spend every day of the rest of our lives telling you how thankful I am to whatever celestial being lead me to you,” Jack pauses, dropping to his knee and fishing around in his pocket for the velvet box he’s had hidden in a pair of old skates in the closet for months.

“You are pure sunshine, shining light on every single person you meet. Y/N Y/L/N, please, let me live the rest of my life sunburnt. Marry Me.”

That was the easy part. Asking you to marry him was the quickest and easiest decision Jack had ever made in his life. He hadn’t thought twice when he called Luke on a random Thursday afternoon, telling him he needed to help him run some “errands”, driving to the nearest jeweler as soon as Luke sat in his passengers seat. Didn’t even hesitate when he called your best friend, asking if you had ever talked about what your favorite diamond cut was. Not a nerve in sight when he flew out to meet your parents to ask for their blessing two months before proposing, claiming he was just making a quick trip to visit some friends.

So why? Why was he so nervous today? He’s been looking at himself in the mirror for twenty minutes now, worried that his bow tie is crooked, or that his hair looks too messy. He didn’t know why he was so focused on his appearance. You’ve seen him at his worst. You’ve been there to take care of him after far too many drinks on a night out celebrating a win, hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, head buried in the closest toilet. You’ve seen him after a brutal game, face red from exertion and weird imprints all over his body from his gear. You’ve seen him when he broke down after his first loss during his rookie year, putting all the blame on himself, holding him in your arms as he sobbed in your kitchen.

He knew you didn’t care if a few hairs were out of place, or if his tie was a centimeter too far to the left. But he did. He cared, because this was the most important day of his life, and you deserved for him to look his best. You deserved for him to make sure everything was perfect.

Jack is pulled from his thoughts by a knock at the door, Luke and Quinn making their way into the room.

“Ready, Rowdy?” Quinn asks, going to stand behind Jack in the mirror.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Jack responds, turning to look at his two brothers, forcing a smile that’s supposed hide all of his nervous emotions.

“Are you sure? Why do you look like you’re about to vomit, then?”

“I don’t? Do I? Oh god, what if she thinks there’s something wrong when she sees me? How do I make myself look like I’m not gonna hurl all over her dress. Luke, do I really look like I’m gonna blow chunks?” Jack frantically asks, looking between the two brothers, turning back around to look at himself in the mirror once again.

“Jack, breathe, man. You look fine. Luke was just being Luke. He doesn’t look like he’s going to vomit, right, Luke?” Quinn attempts to calm Jack, glaring at Luke.

“Yeah, I didn’t mean it. Sorry, Jack. You look fine. She’s probably gonna want to jump your bones or some shit. You look great.” Luke blurts, trying to not only escape the wrath of his eldest brother, but to keep Jack from actually vomiting.

“Okay, not what I meant but whatever works, I guess.” Quinn sighs, placing his hands on Jack’s shoulders to turn him back around.

“Listen, everything’s going to be fine. We just went to see Y/N, she’s nervous just like you are. I don’t know why, you’re both so painfully obvious with how much you love each other. There’s nothing for you to worry about. She loves you, man. More than I’ve seen someone love another person. As long as you’re standing there waiting on her at the end of the aisle, you could be covered in dog shit for all she cares. She just wants to see you. She just wants to marry you.”

Jack stares at his older brother, letting the words sink in. His thoughts drift to you, only three doors down, standing in your dress looking into the mirror just like he is, freaking out over things that don’t truly matter to him. He thinks about how you could walk down the aisle, hair un-brushed, pajamas still on, slippers on your feet and he would still be ecstatic to see you.

“You’re right, Q. Of course you’re right. I knew I chose you to be my best man for a reason,” Jack chuckles, feeling his nerves settle a bit.

“I know I’m right. I know you. And I know Y/N. As long as the two of you leave here today with the same last name, everything else could go wrong and you would still be the happiest couple I know,” Quinn removes his hands from Jack’s shoulders.

“But, nothing is going to go wrong, because Mom has been out there running around like a madwoman to make sure everything is in place. The only thing left is to make sure you get to the altar. Which is what we were sent here to do,” Luke chimes in, trying to assure his brother one last time.

“Alright. Yeah. I guess it’s time, huh?”

“It’s time, Rowdy. And it’s been a long time coming.” Quinn pats Jack on the back, the three brothers making their way towards the door that was left open.

Jack smiles at his brother’s statement, knowing you’re just as much a part of his brother’s lives as you are his. You watch every single one of Quinn’s hockey games (as long as he’s not playing at the same time as Jack and Luke) and scream loud enough for the neighbors to complain. You were there at Jack’s side for Luke’s draft day, just as proud, if not more, of the youngest Hughes. You always invite Luke over for a post-game dinner, knowing how tired he is after games and wanting to make sure he gets a meal before he goes home and claims he’s too tired to eat. He knows you hold a special place in his mom’s heart, too. Her claim that you’re the daughter she never had proving to be true through this whole process, knowing she’s been involved in every step of this wedding right along side your mom and yourself.

Before Jack knows it, the ceremony is beginning and he’s being given the signal to make his way to the altar, standing next to his groomsmen as he waits for you to walk through those doors.

As he looks out over the crowd, he finds himself growing nervous once again. Did he put on enough cologne? Did he bring the right kind? What if he wasn’t wearing the one you told him was your favorite? Did he brush his teeth? What if he kisses you for the first time as your husband and his breath tastes like the burger he had for lunch? Oh god, what if you don’t want to kiss him because he has burger breath?

Quinn can sense the nervous energy radiating off of his brother once again. He places his hand on Jack’s back, giving him a few pats to let him know he’s right there next to him. That everything’s going to be okay.

Jack looks over at his brother only briefly before he hears the unmistakable tune of “In Case You Didn’t Know” by Brett Young start playing through the speakers. It’s Jack’s song for you. He plays it all the time when you’re in the car together, not even trying to be subtle. He loves to send it to you when he’s on the road, letting you know he’s thinking about you. There was absolutely no question in your mind as to what song you were going to choose when your mom asked what you wanted to walk down the aisle to.

He snaps his attention to the double doors that open at the other end of the large room. His stomach is in knots, really hoping he doesn’t actually look like he’s about to puke, because he sure feels like it right now.

As he watches the first flash of white make an appearance in the doorway, he knows he’s a goner.

You step into his full view, hand wrapped around your father’s arm, looking around at the various guests for only a split second before your eyes meet his. Jack swears, all time stops in that second. He can barely see through the tears that well in his eyes, completely in awe of you. You match his gaze, forcing yourself to keep the tears from dropping, not wanting to have mascara streaks running down your face before you even get to the altar.

The two of you simply stare at one another for what seems like an eternity. An unspoken declaration of love passed between one another in a simple glance. Your father having to tug on your arm slightly, forcing you to step forward, too lost in Jack for you to remember where you were and what was currently taking place.

As you start to walk down the aisle, every step bringing you towards Jack, towards the rest of your life with him, the feeling of calmness washes over his body. You’re here. You’re his. And you’re everything he has ever wanted and more. It’s in this moment, watching the rest of his life walk towards him, smile on her face, a single tear slipping down her cheek, Jack Hughes has never been less nervous in his life.

[llamagoddessofficial]

I love Farmtale Sans a lot. But also, living in the country isn't always sunshine cottagecore magicalness. It can suck. But... here's some unromantic country stuff that I think could actually be very romantic when you're with him.

As mentioned before, the two of you end up spending a lot of time in the car together. The nearest big store is a ways away, after all. On those long drives, the radio often cuts out for long periods of time... it can feel pretty lonely, especially at night. But when you're together, it's alright. You sleep with your head against the passenger window, your coat over you, holding his unoccupied hand through the quiet.

He gets a call in the middle of the night from someone else further into the village that there's a surprise rain shower coming through tomorrow, and they need to move a lot of kit indoors ASAP before it hits. He grumbles, but heads out anyway. ... An hour or so later, in the middle of a dark cold field, he sees your flashlight rushing over to him. You have a flask of steaming soup and a tupperware box with a slice of hot pie inside. Despite your fear of the dark and bugs, you made your way out to him. He feels himself fall in love even harder, and just like that, the task takes half the time.

When your home is as exposed as country houses can get, the wind can be really fucking loud. Especially if your room is on the windward side of the house. It can sound like a train is driving over your bedroom at night. You decide to sleep on the couch, both because you can't sleep and because you're nervous about how loud it is; it's difficult to rest when you can literally hear the roof rattling and the shingles jumping up and down. Sans, even though his room is absolutely fine, opts to join you. He lights the fire and gets comfy with you, then stays awake so you feel comfortable enough to fall asleep. You wake up the next morning snuggled up to his chest.

The weather is horrendous pouring rain, cold and damp and treacherously muddy. But the animals have to be fed regardless of the weather. You both go out into the early morning darkness, feeding the chickens and cows, checking on the crops, making sure nothing is leaking, hands almost frozen. You come home absolutely drenched in a thick mixture of rain and mud. And as much as Papyrus complains, refusing to let either of you past the porch until you strip all your dirty items... he's got hot lunch waiting for you both, dry pyjamas and thick socks hanging up over the stove, warm blankets on the couch. There's nothing like the feeling of sheltering from a tempest in someplace cosy. Even if the power does keep going out.

[girlyrafe]

──── ꜱᴛᴀʀɢᴀᴢɪɴɢ .ᐟ

ᡣ𐭩 ❝ ꜰᴀʀᴍᴇʀꜱ¡ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ ⟡ ݁₊ ❞ 

⌗ with rafe cameron .ᐟ.ᐟ

ᝰ summary .ᐟ Beneath the summer stars, your forbidden connection with Rafe, the farmhand with a rugged charm and reluctant gaze, ignites a quiet rebellion against your father’s rules. Every stolen glance and charged encounter teeters on the edge of irresistible temptation.

₊ ⊹ ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

You’ve always been captivated by the stars—their distant beauty, their silent permanence against the vast, inky sky. They make you feel both infinitesimal and immense, a paradox that draws you out onto the roof when the farmhouse grows too still to bear. It has become a ritual: bare feet brushing against cool shingles, hair unbound, and the universe sprawling above, vast and endless.

Tonight, the summer heat lingers, dense and heavy, the cicadas’ hum an unrelenting backdrop. The faint scent of honeysuckle wafts up from the garden, mingling with the night air. Your cotton pyjamas cling to your skin as you stretch out, eyes tracing constellations you can name but don’t truly understand. The Big Dipper, Orion, and that faint cluster you always forget the name of—they’re all there, eternal witnesses to your quiet rebellion. Your thoughts wander, as they often do, to Rafe.

Rafe, the farmhand your father hired last spring. His hands are rough with work, his demeanour an intriguing mix of quiet reserve and easygoing charm. There’s a toughness about him, but it’s his rare, shy smiles that unsettle you the most—small, fleeting gestures that make your chest tighten. You’ve noticed how his gaze lingers when he thinks no one is watching, though he always pulls back before it lasts too long. Sometimes, you wonder if he even realises he’s doing it, or if it’s as involuntary as your own fascination with him.

Your father’s rules are clear. “No fraternising with boys,” he’d said, his tone as unyielding as his grip on this farm, and you guess that also means one who works for him and is much older. It’s an ironclad decree, one that Rafe seems to respect… even if his eyes betray him. The very existence of this rule makes your fleeting encounters with him feel illicit, a forbidden edge sharpening the connection you can’t quite define.

The first time you caught him watching you sneak out, you nearly lost your footing. He’d been leaning against the cabin’s doorway, shirtless, a cigarette glowing faintly in his hand. His eyes had widened, guilt flashing across his face before he turned away. And yet, he’d continued to watch, the tension palpable even across the distance. There was something in his gaze, a mixture of worry and something else you couldn’t quite place. It made your stomach flip in a way you weren’t prepared for.

Now, it’s an unspoken ritual. You climb out each night, fully aware he’s there, his cabin positioned perfectly to catch you in the act. It’s not deliberate—at least, that’s what you tell yourself. But you know he sees you, and some part of you finds comfort, even exhilaration, in his silent vigilance. You wonder what he’s thinking as he watches. Is he amused? Annoyed? Or is he just as drawn to you as you are to him?

Tonight, you hear it again—the faint crunch of gravel beneath his boots. You sit up and squint to look at him in the cabin doorway across the field and find him as expected, leaning casually against the cabin wall. The faint glow of his cigarette cuts through the darkness, his silhouette relaxed yet tense. His broad shoulders are illuminated faintly by the moonlight, and you wonder if he knows just how much space he takes up in your thoughts.

“You know that’s not safe,” he calls out pretty loudly, but you both know your father would be passed out by now, his voice soft but firm, carrying across the humid night. It’s the first time he’s spoken to you during one of these encounters.

You sit up, startled but intrigued. “I’m fine,” you reply, your voice light. “I’ve done this plenty of times.”

He shakes his head, exhaling smoke that swirls in the moonlight. “Doesn’t mean it’s not reckless. You’re braver than you look.”

“Or maybe just foolish,” you counter, your tone teasing. You want to push him, to see where the limits of his restraint lie.

He huffs out a quiet laugh, the sound warm despite its brevity. “Yeah, maybe.”

The silence that follows is heavy with meaning, charged in a way that makes your skin prickle. His eyes trace you, lingering on the curve of your bare legs and the line of your shoulders, though he tries to mask it. You feel your cheeks flush under his scrutiny, but you don’t look away.

“Why do you watch me?” The question escapes before you’ve had time to consider it, your voice softer than you intended.

His movements still, the cigarette frozen halfway to his lips. For a moment, you think he might ignore you. But then he sighs, running a hand through his already messy hair.

“Because you’re hard not to watch,” he admits, his voice low and tinged with something vulnerable. “But your dad… he’d kill me if he knew.”

Your lips curve into a smile, emboldened by his honesty. “He doesn’t have to know.”

Rafe’s head tilts slightly, his gaze darkening as he studies you. “You’re trouble,” he says finally, but there’s no malice in his words—only a resigned sort of fondness.

“Maybe,” you reply, leaning forward slightly, your hair falling around your face. “But you like trouble, don’t you?”

For a fleeting moment, you think he might close the distance, his hesitation slipping as he steps toward the line neither of you are supposed to cross. But then he shakes his head, the cigarette falling to the ground as he crushes it beneath his boot.

“Goodnight, trouble,” he says, his voice softer now, almost wistful.

You watch as he retreats to his cabin, the door clicking shut behind him. Your pulse races, the imprint of his gaze lingering long after he’s gone. Above you, the stars shimmer brighter than ever, as if they’ve borne witness to this moment and approved. You lie back down, the night stretching before you, endless and full of possibility.

As you stare up at the heavens, a thought occurs to you: this isn’t just a passing infatuation. It’s something deeper, something that makes your chest ache with its intensity. And despite Rafe’s reluctance, you know he feels it too. The stars, silent and eternal, seem to echo your certainty. This is only the beginning.

Not even close.

©GIRLYRAFE

[potter-imagines]

Family Sleepover

Pairing: Choso Kamo x Reader

Prompt: A relaxing friday night for Choso and Y/n takes a turn when Choso's little brother, Yuji, has a nightmare leading to a family sleepover.

Word Count: 5.8k

Warning: modern Choso and reader, non sorcerer world setting, mentions of drinking and smoking, otherwise mainly fluff!

Notes: love love love choso, he doesn't get enough attention in writes so hopefully i'll have more choso x reader to come! <3 (gif credit to @fushiguro)

Rainfall smacked against the shingles on the roof while the weather outside only grew worse. A majority of souls dreaded nights filled with storming rain, although Y/n never truly understood why. Not only did the ‘disgusting’ weather provide her the perfect excuse to remain indoors, the cracks of lighting and the booming of thunder set a cozy mood as the rain poured down from the skies outside. The light from the flashing television brightened the darkened room to a glowing haze. Choso had his arm thrown over his girlfriend’s body and his back pressed up against the black headboard as Y/n curled herself into his side, her hands resting neatly on his chest. 

It was a typical Friday night for the couple after an exhausting week for the both of them. Choso had put in three grueling nights of overtime while Y/n had run herself thin juggling her final semester of college writing three separate ten page essays and studying for finals between her part time job. 

Instead of going out until the early hours of the morning bar hopping and clubbing like most couples their age, the two preferred the more intimate occasions of peaceful bliss wrapped in each other’s hold. Besides, babysitters weren’t cheap and between keeping up with rent, having enough food on the table, gas to get to work, bills and buying new clothes for a never ending growing boy, there wasn’t a surplus of funds left over to pay some high schooler to watch little Yuji every weekend night. 

Yuji was the youngest of Choso’s brothers, his only surviving family member in fact. Shortly after his eighteenth birthday his entire family perished in an electrical fire that tore through his childhood home. The cause was natural yet their deaths hardly felt so. His mother had passed away in the hospital a day after the fire, while his little brother was the only member she could manage to stumble out of the home with. Yuji was a few months old at the time, and if he hadn’t still been sleeping in the bassinet next to their parent’s bed, Choso was sure he would’ve perished as well. He had received a call only hours after the fire was put out, being miles away at university, he rushed to his hometown immediately to discover the life changing news. 

That tragic event was four years ago and ever since, Choso has been raising his youngest brother alone- well, they were alone, until through friends, Choso was introduced to Y/n. The couple met at nineteen and had been going strong since, much to his surprise. Choso struggled in the dating field prior to being a near ‘single dad’, and now that he had his kid brother to look after, he naturally assumed he’d never find a partner.

However Y/n proved herself different from any woman he’d ever met, and Yuji adored her. From the child's second birthday on, Y/n had been an essential part of their lives and she had no intentions of leaving, which she once again proved by blowing Choso’s mind and signing on to lease a small three bedroom home alongside him and Yuji. Three years later now and the couple were raising Yuji like a stable, healthy family, and Choso couldn’t be more grateful to have her in both of their lives. 

Typical wasn’t an adjective that fit like a puzzle in their dictionary but they still tried to act like a normal 23 year old couple, hence the half full wine glasses sat on either side of the bed and the tightly packed pre roll waiting patiently on Choso’s side. Sure, they had a crazy five year old to look after, but that doesn’t mean they weren’t allowed to indulge in a bit of fun themselves, right?

A mutual favorite horror film of the couples was playing in the background. Y/n laid peaceful alongside Choso and the two cuddled on one another underneath the heavy stack of blankets. H/c hair tickled his skin as Choso situated his chin on the crown of her skull. Screams streamed from the television as a helpless victim took their chance at running through the winding forest trying to escape the crazed killer. Y/n’s body jerked as the girl managed to trip over a perfectly placed tree root and went stumbling down a large, leaf filled hill. The actress cried in fright as the killer stood at the top of the embankment, staring down at her disheveled state. Choso stole a peep down at his girlfriend, a rare smile coating his lips as he noticed her fully clinging to his naked chest. Once the girl was murdered and the screen cut to a new scene, her body visibly relaxed as her hold loosened. 

Choso smirked at the action, his lips finding their way to the top of her head, placing a small kiss as his arms pulled her closer. He could feel her hands absentmindedly tracing patterns against his chest while her eyes were glued to the horror movie on the television. Every once in a while her frame would flinch against his as a new victim was slain and killed, making him laugh to himself at her jumpy nature. Not everyone found horror movies ‘relaxing’, so to say, but for the couple, it was their idea of an unwinding night. 

Y/n shakily picked the wine glass up from the nightstand and took a reasonable gulp on the red liquid, then placed the cup back on the coaster. Her eyes casually shifted to her boyfriend, a mischievous smile playing on her pink lips as she motioned towards the joint resting on his side. Choso understood her thinking, not needing the use of words, and he chuckled. The mood felt all too perfect and the claming drag of a blunt was the bow to tie their night together in a beautifully wrapped present. However, as the saying goes, if something seems too good to be true, chances are it isn’t true. 

Right as Choso went to reach for the bud sitting beside him, a loud, echoing shriek broke through the once mellow air causing both adults to spring in terror. Y/n gasped, sitting up immediately as she looked up to Choso who was already throwing the comforter off and his legs off the side of the bed to stand. 

“Shit…” He cursed. Another scream hit the air as Choso grabbed the nearest shirt he could find and threw it on. Watching as he hurriedly redressed, Y/n extended her hand to flick the bedside lamp on, a worried hint to her tired gaze. 

“Is that Yuuji?” Concern laced her words as Y/n watched her boyfriend throw a random shirt over his head. He nodded towards her, confirming her worry. 

“Mmh, one second, babe. I’ll be right back.” Choso shared a quick kiss with his girl before sliding out the bedroom door. Stepping into the hall he quietly flipped on the ceiling light and walked the few steps to his brother’s room. Yuji’s door was decorated in various drawings, stickers, and paintings the young boy had made, making it hard to miss. The door was closed shut, but that didn’t stop the sound of muffled sobs and shaky breathing from breaking through. Twisting the golden knob, Choso slowly creaked the door open as he peeked his head around the wooden frame.

From his spot in the doorway Choso could see a small lump under the covers that was shaking like a leaf in a storm, much like the raging thunderstorm occurring outside the home. Entering the room, he quietly made his way into the bedroom and sat his body on the edge of the bed, careful as to not startle his younger brother. Choso reached his hand out to rub along what appeared to be the child’s back as he whispered, 

“Hey, little man. Everything alright?”

The heavy blanket was ripped from the boy’s body at the sound of his savior’s voice as Yuji flung himself to his big brother’s arms, grasping at his shirt while his teary eyes leaked against the cotton. 

“Choso!” He cried out. An iron grip clutched at his skin, tiny hands searching for stability in his hold.

“I’m here, don’t worry. Why’re you crying?” Choso hugged his body close to his chest, his large hand running up and down Yuji’s back in an attempt to comfort him. The small boy buried his head in his shoulder as the broken sobs continued. 

“I-I had a-a bad dream a-and the thunder w-was so loud my… my whole room was shaking and… and I saw a monster was outside my window with big claws and sharp teeth- he was going to eat me!” Yuji shouted in fear. His voice trembled as he struggled to get his words free from his dry throat.

The image of a terrifying beast perched up on the branch staring at him through his window replayed on a loop in Yuji’s head, his brain creating a scarier image each time he recalled the monster. Tiny fists bundled the shirt between his fingers as Yuji clung to his older brother. Glancing down, Choso leaned back a pull so the boy was forced to look into his dark violet eyes. Despite his usual solemn look, Choso’s features were warmer- more comforting than Yuji had witnessed on the regular. A serious gaze crossed his stare as his thumb wiped a bundle of tears running down the child’s cheeks. 

“Well you know that would never happen. Do you remember what I told you about monsters?” He questioned. Yuji rubbed at his eyes, his head shaking ‘no’ in response. Swiping his thumb across the underside of his leaking eyes, Choso wiped his rampant tears away.

“They’re not real. They’re just in our heads, right?” His finger tapped against his small forehead. “Even if monsters were real, your big brother would never let it eat you, I can promise that.”

Yuji peered up at his brother, his curious wide eyes on full display, as if his big brother had all the answers to life. If Choso told him the grass was blue and the sky was green, he’d believe him. To Yuji, his brother could do no wrong. A twinkle met his large brown eyes as his head tilted to the side,

“You’d beat him up?” He asked hopefully. A crack of a grin broke across his face as Choso nodded in agreement. 

“Mmh.” Choso ruffled the pink of his hair, giving him a reassuring smile. Yuji cuddled himself against his chest once more, previous shaky breaths finally evening out to small hiccups. The redness to his plump cheeks were starting to fade leaving tiny blotches of hysteria in its wake. Those tears that seemed never ending like a rushing waterfall growing into quiet sniffles. 

A steady silence filled the room until Yuji pulled his head away from Choso’s now damp shirt. With nervous eyes he hesitantly looked down to his fidgeting hands. Rubbing his palm against his heated skin, Choso wordlessly urged his kid brother to speak up, knowing there was clearly something swimming around his mind. Reaching out for the plush brown bear, Yuji held it to his chest as he inhaled steadily. 

“Can… can I sleep in your bed, please big brother?” The flush of innocence to his tone was a gentle reminder to Choso that although his little brother was rather brave for his age, he was still only five years old and sometimes, extra reassurance was required. 

“Sure, kiddo.”

Yuji leapt towards Choso, his small arms encircling his brother’s neck as he let out a cheer of delight. Smiling to himself, Choso plucked the blue star blanket he knew the child struggled to sleep without and stood from the bed. Yuji’s head laid against his shoulder as the pair started walking towards the master bedroom. Choso flicked the hallway light off and turned the handle to his room, stepping into the darkness with his brother in his hold. 

The small lamp on her bedside was still lit as the two brothers entered the room, the sudden presence capturing Y/n’s attention. Choso didn’t fail to notice the smile that graced her beautiful features as she caught sight of the pink haired boy in his grasp, and the way her arms opened up on instinct. A gasp of excitement broke from Yuji’s chest as he met the eyes of his second favorite person in the world. 

“Y/n!” Yuji shouted. Shaking from Choso’s arms, he scrambled against the fluffy duvet as he crawled to Y/n. A large grin illuminated on his face as he fell into her welcoming embrace. “Big brother is letting me sleep in his bed- do you think we can snuggle?”

His strawberry scented hair tickled against her chin as Yuji buried himself further in her chest, cheeks still slightly damp from his crying from before now pressed to her skin. Y/n drew her nails up and down his spine, scratching his back as one comforting their young would do, then kissed the side of his head. 

“Of course, baby.” 

Choso reached out for Yuji from behind and lifted him, allowing Y/n room to pull the blanket down so he could sneak in beside her. Once Yuji was under the covers he yanked the dark material up and settled in below his chin, his arms falling above the blanket then effortlessly positioned himself on his side so his little body was nearly attached to Y/n’s. Yuji innocently cradled his face into the warmth of her chest. Y/n giggled at his forwardness and wrapped her hold around him, pulling Yuji closer and kissing his ruby cheek, to which the boy snuggled in closer. 

Choso couldn’t resist the chuckle that broke from his chest making the tattoo line across the bridge of his nose scrunch in amusement as he watched how easy his brother made himself at home in the bedroom he shared with his girlfriend. Yuji pranced in the room and fixed himself up in Choso’s bed next to his girlfriend like he owned the place- like he was the one paying rent. Tugging his shirt off, Choso threw the cotton to the side as he slipped into his side of the bed and shot Y/n an apologetic look. 

“I’m sorry, angel. Yuuji had a nightmare then was certain he saw a monster outside his window so he’s pretty shaken up.” 

“It’s okay, you don’t have to apologize for taking care of him, Cho. There’s plenty of room for all three of us up here.”

Choso’s eyes drifted to his nightstand, purple orbs landing on the sealed up backwoods as he mentally cursed himself, thank god Yuji hadn’t noticed it or Y/n was sure to chew his ass out. Looks like they’d have to save their smoke session for another night. Sliding open the bedside drawer, Choso swept the pre roll into the cupboard and shut it, tossing the blue lighter in alongside. The wine swayed in the glass from the movement, and he pushed it back a few inches so it was completely out of Yuji’s reach. 

Turning his attention back to the two Choso nudged his finger against the chubby texture of his little brother’s cheek. 

“But you’re coming in here to sleep, okay Yuuji? It’s bedtime, not playtime.” Yuji obediently bobbed his head in agreement, a twinkle of mischievousness sparking in his eyes. Choso knew that gleam all too well. Overall his kid brother was a relatively good listener, but there was always some catch, and when it came to bedtime, Yuji’s catch was his ability to ask a million and one questions before actually falling asleep. Y/n bit the inside of her cheek to keep from letting a laugh escape. Yuji was too sweet. Tapping his finger at Y/n’s arm, the small boy gestured towards the tv. 

“Can I watch a little of your movie to go to sleep?” His question was suppressed by his face being shoved into Y/n’s neck, but the words were clear enough. Y/n glanced at her boyfriend, an uncertain raise to her brows. Before he could decline his brother’s request, she shook her head softly. 

“Well… it’s sort of scary… maybe we should put something different on until you’re asleep.”

Instead of changing the channel, Choso opted for turning the volume down. It was a film he’d seen a thousand times over and he knew there wouldn’t be another scary scene for a good fifteen minutes, which opened the perfect window of sleep for Yuji. Unlike Choso who required a minimum of thirty minutes until sleep could greet him, Yuji could fall asleep at the drop of a pin, and based on the droopiness to his eyes, sleep didn’t seem too far off for him. 

“How ‘bout you try closing your eyes for sleep and we can have a fun movie day tomorrow, alright? Y/n and I are gonna go to bed soon, too.” Choso promised. The young boy tilted his head up towards his big brother, almost searching his features for any sign of lies, but Choso only stared back. Once he was sure his brother was telling the truth, Yuji nodded and forced himself to close his large eyes. 

Both adults watched the movie without a word, cautious to give Yuji a fair chance to fall asleep. Images passed on the screen of a seemingly happy family as they began moving into their new home. The children ran around outside the home, giggling and shouting with glee as the parents carried loads of boxes into the home. The scene hadn’t struck either Choso nor Y/n as one of importance as they both knew the ill awaited fate to meet the family, but through half lidded eyes, Yuji’s interest was quipped. The quietness lasted for no longer than a minute when Yuji moved his head, pink hair brushing against Y/n’s chin, and knocked at his brother’s shoulder. 

“Big brother…”

“Hm?” Choso replied. Yuji’s fixation was back on the television screen as he pointed his finger to the image. 

“Are you and Y/n gonna have babies?”

Both heads immediately snapped to the young boy, a gasp of shock sounding from Y/n at the sudden inquiry as her eyebrows shot up towards the sky. If someone was to take a picture of her face, she was sure she’d look like she’d witnessed a ghost. Choso’s mouth hung astoundment, the innocently worded question clearly hitting him like a smack across the face. 

“What?” 

Y/n quietly stared at her boyfriend for help, unsure what to say in response. Yuji on the other hand sat unwavered as he wiggled against her, trying his best to find the most comfortable position. Choso lifted the comforter of the blanket so Yuji had more access to cover his small body, then provided a brief shrug. Giving his girlfriend a look of uncertainty, Choso sighed at the oddly deep question. 

“Not for a while, little man. We’ve already got you to take care of so I think we’ll wait a bit.” Choso spoke softly.

“Oh… okay.” Disappointment flooded his tone. Seeing his face drop in such a sad manner made Choso feel a bit bad for letting him down. Of course the couple planned on having children, it was a topic they’d discussed more times than they could count, but it wasn’t necessarily a priority at the moment for either of them. Choso wanted Yuji in school, and Y/n to have her dream wedding to him before either of them seriously took action to have children of their own. In the meantime, they certainly enjoyed practicing the baby making process- but Yuji didn’t need to know about all that. 

Yet it seemed Yuji’s curiosity was not quite settled as he once again tapped Choso on the shoulder,

“Big brother?”

“Yeah?” He tiredly mumbled out. Y/n laughed at the exasperation in Choso’s voice. It was no secret, Yuji had hit that age where his questions and curiosity had no end. Every meal was filled with a game of 21 questions asking what was in the food, how was it made, where did the ingredients come from, why does it call for carrots and not chocolate, and so on. His mind had no limits, and most of the time, Choso was grateful for that, except for now when Yuji was meant to be asleep, not firing inquiries left and right. Stealing a glance to Y/n over his shoulder, Yuji turned back to his big brother, a shade of scarlet painting his skin. 

“Can I marry Y/n when I’m a big kid like you?” Large brown eyes bore up at Choso as Yuji hugged his teddy closer, a faint blush flushing his cheeks. Choso was aware of his little brother’s crush on his girlfriend, and honestly, he couldn’t blame the kid. Y/n was attentive, caring, selfless, kind hearted, and not to mention gorgeous, so he could see plain as day why Yuji had a crush on his girlfriend. Still, the question knocked him back a step in surprise. Tonight's line of thoughts racing around the child’s mind seemed larger than normal. 

“I’m sorry, little man but I was planning on marrying Y/n. I don’t think it’d be very fair if you stole her from me, do you?” His brows pulled together into a thin line at his brother’s new inquiry. First babies, now he wanted to marry Y/n? Choso was scared to hear what Yuji had up his sleeve to ask next. The child’s expression went glum once again, a heavy pout coating his pink lips. 

“No… I guess not… I just really like to snuggle with her…” He admitted. His confession brought a cheesy grin to Y/n’s face. Yuji had always been adorable to her but now she found him even more of a sweetheart. Arms still wrapped around him, Y/n pulled Yuji in further to give him a hug, which he happily accepted. 

“You can always snuggle with me, bubs, but I’ll bet when you’re a big kid like your brother, you’re gonna meet a pretty girl you’d rather cuddle with instead.” Y/n laughed slightly as she glanced down at the young boy. She found it irresistibly adorable Yuji had developed a crush on her, but she also knew it was sure to fade as he grew, nonetheless, it was one of the cutest things to her. Kissing his temple, Y/n gave him one last squeeze then loosened her grip as a loud huff tumbled from Yuji’s parted lips. 

“Not true! You’re the prettiest girl ever! I don’t want another girl- gross!” Yuji’s tongue fell from his mouth as he made an absurd gagging sound. In his mind, the idea of snuggling another girl was the most disgusting thing he’d ever heard- but snuggling his big brother’s girlfriend? Now that was a totally different story. Choso sent a flick to the side of Yuji’s head, snickering to himself as the boy yelped and grasped for the point of impact. 

“We’ll see if you change your mind, how ‘bout that?” Yuji shook his head ‘yes’, agreeing to his brother’s words. Y/n suppressed a giggle as she looked over to Choso, amused by his twinge of annoyance at what she found to be adorably harmless questions from Yuji.

While Choso quietly pondered over his brother’s words, the small boy seemed to be warming up to the idea of bedtime. Yuji’s big eyes were casually drooping lower and lower with every blink he took. 

“I think someone is sleepy…” Y/n’s tone was teasing as she poked the chub of Yuji’s cheek. His usual hyperactive nature was calmed down to a simmer, and Y/n could feel him sinking into her hold. Not much longer and she was sure he’d be out like a light. As if reading her mind the young boy let out a loud yawn.

“I’m just gonna close my eyes for a little bit.” Yuji seemed to be making the promise more to himself than anyone else. Choso nodded, feigning belief, his brown strands threatened to slip from the rubber tie holding his hair in two loose spiky ponytails as he moved his head. 

“Okay, kid. I believe you.” Choso smirked.

Twisting his body, Yuji pressed his back against Y/n’s chest. She wrapped her hold around his smaller frame, allowing his little arms to lay ontop of hers, then reached his other hand out to hold the edge of his brother’s pillow. Choso could feel his tiny legs folded, Yuji’s knee pressing against his side. The kid was never one for a normal sleeping position, Choso thought to himself. 

Nuzzling his head against the plush mattress, Yuji peaked his eyes open and gave his brother a soft smile. The hand clutching Y/n’s arm gave a squeeze as his sleepy voice mumbled,

“I love you, big brother… I love you, Y/n…” 

“I love you too, Yuji, sweet dreams.” Y/n leaned down to press a loving kiss to the boy’s forehead. Pulling away, she brought her hand up to stroke at his light pink strands. Choso smiled to himself at the sight, then reached his hand out to pinch at the excess of skin on his little brother’s cheek. 

“Love you, little man. Sleep tight.”

A stillness enveloped the room in a circle of quietness, the sound of Yuji’s faint breathing followed by light snores being the only steady sound. Choso waited a few minutes before reaching for the remote and turning the volume up slightly, their mutual resistance to having Yuji listening in now wiped clean. Although both had their outward attention focused on the movie playing, neither were mentally zeroed in on it. In fact, they were both thinking about the same thing, thinking about what Yuji had said; having kids, getting married, spending the rest of their lives together. 

Of course this was a common thought that roamed around in Choso’s head, he had just never realized he wasn’t the only one who thought about it. Cracking a smirk, Choso settled his arm around the middle pillow supporting Yuji and placed his hold on Y/n’s shoulders. His fingers unintentionally tickled her skin and her body subconsciously melted into his touch. Letting out a chuckle, Choso turned his head in her direction, 

“Can’t believe my kid brother is trying to steal my girl from me.” Y/n laughed at his remark, amused by the idea of Yuji wanting to marry her when he grows up. It was a sweet gesture in her eyes and made her feel grateful that he held such a high opinion on her. Of course, it was his elder brother Y/n planned to wed, the thought meant the absolute world to her. 

“I don’t know, babe, give it a few years and he just might do it.”

Choso lolled his head to the side, a look of idiocy gracing his features as he rolled his eyes. Grabbing her free hand he brought her fingers up to his face and pressed his lips against her ring finger. Although the finger was bare of jewelry at the moment, Choso was determined to change that fact soon. Without Y/n’s knowledge Choso had been saving a portion of his work checks on the side, saving for a sparkling diamond ring to adorned her hand.

Knowing his girlfriend, Y/n would accept a bread bag tie or a ring pop even. Money wasn’t something they were swimming in, and she loathed the rare occurrences Choso would splurge on her. However, Choso wanted her to have a diamond ring- no, he needed her to have one. After all she had helped him through, all the times she had been there for him and his brother, Choso wanted her to see how much he truly appreciated her, so no ordinary ring would do for him, it needed to be perfect. Laying her hand against his chest, Choso narrowed his gaze playfully. 

“You’re talking like I won’t have a ring on that pretty finger and you tied down to me by then.” Laughing at his statement Y/n simply shook her head at him. 

“I’m already tied down to you, Choso. You’re stuck with me forever.” Y/n teased, sticking her tongue out momentarily to tease him. She knew if he had asked her to marry him right then, she’d say yes, zero hesitation in her answer. It was no secret that she planned on spending the rest of her life by his side. 

“Good, ‘cause I wasn't planning on letting you go.”

Yuji stirred between them, faint groans of tiredness breaking from his lips as his body jerked in his sleep. Y/n retracted her hand from Choso’s body and soothingly ran her fingers up and down the child’s back, silently lulling him back to his peaceful sleep. Yuji cuddled further into her hold, a sigh of contentment escaping his parted lips. Choso watched the two, his heart fluttering as Y/n effortlessly brought comfort to his brother without even a word. 

Glancing up to her quiet boyfriend, Y/n sent him a sweet smile.

“Are you staying up for a while?”

“Yeah, I’m not too tired yet but I won’t be too late.” He nodded. It was no secret Choso had adopted a poor habit of staying awake until the sun rose, especially on the weekends. No matter how much effort Y/n devoted to breaking this habit, it lived on.

Propping herself on her elbow, and cautious for the child in between, Y/n reached across the space between the couple. Receiving the unspoken message loud and clear, Choso turned his face, allowing opportunity for their lips to touch as he kissed her sweetly. The exchange was short and loving, but Choso took every advantage of the moment as he relished in the feeling of his lover pressed against him. His lips greeted hers in a passionate embrace, despite their awkward positioning. A tiny hint of a smile cracked through her lips as Y/n pushed her lips against his, gentle yet determined to prove her love, which he effortlessly felt. Pulling apart, Y/n grinned up at him as she leaned back into her spot on the bed, snuggling up against her pillow. Blinking her e/c eyes up to him, a stroke of red flushed her s/c cheeks as she blushed. Y/n could spend the rest of her life kissing her lover and still would never grow old of the butterflies his lips released inside her soul. 

“Okay,” She whispered. “Turn the tv off at a good time, you had a long day.” Choso’s hand ran along the top of her head, petting at her hair with a gentle smile. His insides fuzzed at the sincerity to her words. The caring nature Y/n held always had him feeling so loved and looked out for, it truly meant the world to him. 

“Thanks, pretty girl. You’re always taking care of me… well, us.” He gazed down at his sleeping brother. Y/n leaned further into his loving strokes as she reached her arm gently across Yuji’s body to lay still against Choso’s chest. The action was simple, but the effectiveness was strong. A chorus of chills danced down his spine at her touch to his bare skin. There was no element of sexualizing to her touch, no hidden agenda, no further want but a safe place to rest.

“You say that as if two don’t take care of me as well. We all need each other.” Y/n argued. A comfortable silence greeted the pair as Choso basked in the comfort of her hand against his skin. The movie on the TV played on deaf ears while Y/n’s eyes slowly grew heavy in weight.

Reaching around his shoulder Choso grabbed the wine glass from the night stand, bringing the glass to his lips he sipped the red liquid, feeling his body relax at the taste. Red wine had always been a favorite of his, a taste Y/n had developed a liking to after multiple tries of her lover convincing her it was the superior choice. Many things had changed in her life after Choso and Yuji, such as red wine over white, nights in over nights out, and sharing the bed over sleeping alone. 

Choso set the glass down, opening his mouth to make a remark about how the chilled beverage was now warm and apologize once again for the bump in their night, when he was suddenly taken aback by the look on his lover's face- the love pouring from just one look. 

“About tonight-” A quick roll of the eyes and a motion of the hand caused Choso’s words to fall flat against his tongue. 

“Don’t. I wouldn’t choose anything over this.” Y/n smiled.

Careful for the boy laid between them, both leaned across the mattress, unable to resist the need to feel her once more, allowing their lips to meet in the middle. Choso’s hand curled around the side of her face, his thumb caressing the skin as his lips devoted all the passion and love his heart could express. His soft kiss brought a sense of home to Y/n, her hold clasping on the back of his neck, not allowing a chance to break. She swore she could feel her heart physically warming as his lips moved against hers, savoring every moment of his love. Every kiss they shared held a piece of their love, yet this one was received stronger. 

Pulling away, Y/n leaned her forehead against his, quickly pressing a final ‘goodnight’ kiss to the corner of his lips, causing a smile to rise. Even in the poorly lit room Y/n could see the red rush of blood to his cheeks. Leaning back she cozied herself underneath the heap of blankets, allowing Yuji to cling to her once more in his asleep state. Resting fully against her pillow, Y/n looked up to Choso one last time before allowing her heavy eyes to finally shut for the night. 

“I love you.”

“I love you too, angel.” Choso whispered through the still air. 

It didn’t take long for her even breathing to be heard and he was certain she had fallen asleep alongside his brother. Silently slipping out his phone from his side Choso snapped a series of photos of the two snuggled against one another, a grin adorning his lips as he did so. Yeah, he thought, I’m putting a ring on that finger real soon.

[evidenceof]

i have just said something ridiculous to you

Joe Toye has a nice face, George thinks. Strong nose, strong brows, and a scowl that George realized he liked to earn. Miles deep into 2nd Battalion's march to Atlanta, George Luz hears an Irish song from across their frozen campground.

happiest holidays, @blood-mocha-latte, my hbo war 2025 secret santa baby!! ♡ crossing my fingers and hoping i did their voices/headspaces justice. this present is brought to you by equal parts mary oliver's 'i have just said,' that you love, and toye's atlanta march predicament™. i very humbly give to you my very first luztoye fic.

I have just said something ridiculous to you and in response, your glorious laughter. - 'I Have Just Said' by Mary Oliver

-----------------------------------

December 1, 1942 | 2330 hours Campgrounds, 38 miles from Fort Benning

The butter tastes like nothing on his frozen tongue. George winces at the thin oily film it leaves behind in his mouth after he swallows. Too fucking cold, everything was too fucking cold. A ragged chuckle saws its way through his throat while he watches Perco fight a losing battle against his hard slice of bread. Eventually, he rips it in half, elbow colliding with the tent wall and almost costing them their flimsy shelter. A hundred and fifteen miles and they had to survive off of stale bread and pats of butter.

“The way we live you’d think we’re already at the front of the fucking lines.” Perco’s voice was muffled under a thick scarf. “I don’t know what’s worse. This or shit on a shingle.”

“Come on, we got it made.” George lights a cigarette, and flicks off his lighter in an attempt to sweep away any talk of war. “Sightseeing the backcountry, free food, free clothes. These fuckin’ boots? Babies are the best in General Patton's Third Army, so I’ve heard.” His boot lands back on the cold ground with a pathetic thump from where he lifted it. 

“Aw, shut up, Luz.” Perco shoves him backwards, hard, half a slice of bread still in his hand, but with a grin already plastered on his face.

Just barely missing the tent wall, George regains his balance. “All right, all right. Jeez,” he laughs. He presses his hand on Perco’s head to push himself up, earning him a scowl. “Gonna go find a fire before this thing collapses on us.”

The flap of the tent all but snaps in half when he throws it open. Ice crackles down the drab green canvas like peanut brittle. Outside, cold air smacks against George’s face as he takes in the columns of tents around him that stand frosted and gleaming in the moonlight. The temperature had dropped earlier in the afternoon, but tomorrow promised worse terrain because, as far as George was concerned, God had abandoned 2nd Battalion specifically. Why else would they be the only ones walking all the way to fucking Atlanta? There's thirty eight more miles and not nearly enough bad Sobel impressions in George’s back pocket to last them that far.

With a single drag, he polishes off the remainder of his cigarette. Squinting, he spots Lip and Guarnere in the middle of what looks like an attempt at walking without having to bend their knees. Their frosty puffs of breath mirror the smoke he exhales. He sees Lip’s hand raise to greet him at the same time a bad tune cuts across the field, louder than the muffled grousing from inside the pup tents. Only George whips his head towards the direction of the sound.

“Luz, what’re you up to?” Lip’s voice is firm. George doesn’t see, but he hears the smile in it.

“Better not be doin’ anything fuckin’ stupid. I’m goddamn tired of that pansy chicken-shit officer breathing down my neck all fuckin’ day,” spits Guarnere, digging his hands deeper into his pockets. “Sobel, I mean. Winters ain’t no chicken-shit at least.”

George doesn't expect the polite chuckle from Lip who's quick to follow it up with a stern, “Bill.” At that, Guarnere raises an eyebrow like a demanding child, a look that George knows he never let his ma see. “But he’s right, keep your head outta trouble, Luz. Got enough to deal with while Toye’s relegated to K.P,” continues Lip with a grimace.

George tips his head in the direction of the broken Irish song still flitting in the air. “That him?” The scowl on Guarnere’s face is confirmation enough. “What’d he do?”

“Go ask him if you’re so fuckin’ curious,” Guarnere sneers. “Hey, I’m serious Luz. Give Sobel an excuse to take away passes and I’ll shove a trench knife up your ass.”

George knuckles his forehead to mock-salute Guarnere and gives Lip a wink. “I’ll behave for you, Bill,” he sing-songs. It only takes him a second to quash his finished cigarette under his boot before his feet start moving towards the sound almost involuntarily. He finds Toye hunched over a fire, chin resting on his legs that are folded in front of him. Even tucked into himself, there was something intimidating about his angles. It’s those goddamn broad shoulders of his, wide like no one’s business. Certainly not George’s. He doesn’t recognize the words Joe is singing but the tune’s familiar enough. Once or twice, he found himself straining to hear it in the Toccoa showers. It almost feels like a shame to put an end to it. Almost.

“Thought someone was dying. Your bad singing why they’re making you do this?” chides George, nudging Toye with his boot before he takes a seat on the ground. 

Toye clenches his jaw in acknowledgment, any lingering mirth vanishing from his face. “Luz,” says Toye, already exasperated. George watches him jab the weak fire with a stick. The orange glow casts shadows on his irritated face. Nothing quite like pissing off Joe Toye. He has a nice face, George thinks. Strong nose, strong brows, a scowl that George realized he liked to earn. Even with the darkness under his eyes, Toye looks sturdy.

“Aw, c’mon Toye. Not happy to see me?” His teeth chatter and Toye’s lip twitches into the beginnings of a smile. “Lighten up will ya?”

A gust of wind makes them both adjust their scarves. From under his own, Toye shakes his head before glaring at the stick in his hand. George can see him weighing out the pros and cons of throwing it into the pit. “I did. Look where that got me,” says Toye, eventually.

“Hey, least you’re warm right?” George smiles at him while dislodging a clump of dirt from the sole of his boot to throw in Toye’s direction. When it hits the side of his leg, Toye barely flinches. So it was like that, huh? George digs his heel into the hardened ground, dragging himself closer to Joe. “So what’d you do? You can trust me. Who the fuck am I gonna tell?”

Toye continues staring at the flames like they’d done something to offend him. When he doesn’t answer, George inches forward, tracking cold moisture and mud on his trousers. For a moment he’s convinced Toye isn’t paying attention, but George sees how his eye twitches in time with the sound of his ODs scritching against the ground.

“Toye. Toye. Toye. Joe Toye. C’mon, buddy. Tell good ol’ George,” he says, slightly out of breath as he continues to drag himself closer. 

Bright dots of orange float up into the inky blue night when Toye jostles the firewood with his stick. “Not sure you wanna know, Luz,” he says gravely. “What, you need new source material or something? Running out of punchlines?”

“Me? Nah. Been practicing my Strayer,” says George, grinning. He’s not sure if he imagines the little nod from Toye. “When I get that pitch perfect, it'll last us ’til we ship out at least. You’ll fuckin’ see.” There’s caked mud on the ass of his ODs, he feels it. But now Toye was in perfect prodding distance and that made the journey worth it. With his fist, George nudges him once, twice, but he still looks like a goddamn statue staring at the fire, unmoving. “C’mon Toye. What’d you do?”

Nothing prepares him for how quickly Toye swivels his body towards his. He’s so close that George feels his breath on his cheek when Toye says, “You really wanna know? How about you ask me nice, Luz? Throw in a little favor?”

“Like what…?” says George, schooling his face into seriousness. Were Toye’s lashes always this long? George swears he feels the phantom brush of them against his goddamn forehead. He isn’t proud of the way it makes him miss a beat or causes that slight tremble in his voice. Nothing he couldn’t chalk up to the cold, he thinks. And he fucking would, if anyone asks.

“Like take over with these fires for me, you fuckin’ idiot,” growls Toye in his usual low gravelly voice. The white of his teeth catches the corner of George’s eye, then the pink of his lower lip. Damn. It feels almost too late when Toye thwacks the long stick against George’s chest and he nearly falls backwards. “My arm’s falling asleep.”

Clearing his throat to pull himself together is a decision George regrets immediately. It’s raw and cold like the rest of him. But he can deal with the shards of glass lodged into his windpipe better than the fucking knots that just erupted in his stomach. What was with that? He swipes the stick and turns to face the fire so that Joe is just a smudge in his periphery. From a few feet away, he hears Lieb and Alley laughing mercilessly. The thought of them witnessing all that makes his face burn, but he reminds himself everyone’s huddled in their own pup tents.

Toye's voice, resigned now, floats from beside George suddenly. It’s soft from fatigue. “Kid wanted to know what it felt like,” he says but doesn't continue. 

“What what felt like?” George pokes the fire. There’s a hiss and crackle of wood before Toye replies.

“What it’s like to pick up a skirt,” mumbles Toye, sounding embarrassed, forgiving maybe. “Says he gets nervous easy. He’s a buddy of mine from Dog Company, knew him from Pennsylvania, worked the coal mines together. He’s… you know? All stiff-like. Kinda like—”

“Like Winters?” George answers. “The fuck is wrong with you people from Pennsylvania. You born with a complimentary stick up your ass or what?” George wonders if that was too much, but he hears a huff from beside him—a sound that, from his limited knowledge, is the closest thing Toye gets to laughing. There’s a giddiness in his chest that tells him he’s been wanting to hear that for a while.

“Yeah. Yeah, like Lieutenant Winters,” replies Toye, less grave now. George turns to find him smiling down at the ground almost sleepily. It triggers a fresh set of knots right below George’s belly. It makes sense that the guy would ask Toye, George decides. With a face like that, eyes like that, he could bring home just about anyone he wanted. “Tells me he gets jittery, that friend of mine. Loses his fucking words. Needs practice. Needs advice,” says Toye. 

“Just need a face like yours.” It tumbles out of George’s mouth automatically. God, he wanted to shove one of the burning logs down his throat. But if Toye heard, he didn’t show it. Recovering, George continues, “What’d you tell him?”

Calm as anything, Toye lifts one shoulder in a shrug. “I didn’t. Gave him a little practical exercise and pushed the guy against a wall,” he says with an even voice. From where he’s turned, the fire illuminates only a portion of his face. Even from a partial view, George could tell he wasn’t joking. Unsurprising; Toye rarely did. “Evans saw.”

“So he served you K.P. duty for jostling a guy? Sounds about right.” George laughs, imagining Evans’ prissy frown. “Your broads usually slam you against walls?”

As an answer, Toye smiles, all teeth, and George stops laughing. 

“It was nothing serious. Wanted to see how well he could come up with one of those lines of his in that position. Said he’s been practicing,” insists Toye. A tiny smirk tugs at the corner of his lip at the sudden shift in George’s face. “I was gentle though, but I think that was the problem. I, uh… I think he liked it.”

There was something about the image George couldn’t quite put together in his mind. He frowns. I think he liked it. 

“You shoulda seen Evans’ face. Kinda looks like yours right now actually, but less red,” Toye grins and George fights the urge to hide his head under his scarf. “Ripped my friend away from me and doled out the punishment. But really, the fucking kicker was him telling me to go see the chaplain. Fucking self-righteous asshole.”

“The chaplain? Since when the fuck do you need to—” Suddenly, it clicks in his mind, and he imagines the scene Evans must have walked into that night. Toye resting a hand against the wall beside the private’s face, the incline of his broad shoulders pointing inward, caging him. Gentle . Those big eyes and lashes too fucking close: Toye looking like the very picture of ease. Only in his head, George erases the face of the nameless PFC from Dog Company and replaces it with his own. Toye’s angles leaning towards him, lips inches away from his face, the feeling of his gravelly voice trailing from the tip of George’s nose all the way down under his shirt. He chokes a bit when he says, disbelieving, “No. Fuck, Toye. Nah, that ain’t right. What the fuck were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t,” says Toye tightly and looks up to glare at him. George can’t quite meet his eyes. “I was lightening up, remember?”

This close to the fire, George’s hands still feel like ice. “You’re insane, Joe. Fucking insane,” he says, trying to shake off the thought of Toye being close, peering up at a guy through his lashes like a dame. Suddenly, George’s trousers feel tight and his head was spinning in all possible directions.

“Didn’t hurt him. Was only trying to help. I was gentle, like I said,” Toye says lightly, voice already edged with sleep and without a trace of guilt. “Want a demonstration, Luz?”

“What, so you can get caught again? You plan on being K.P. until we’re shipped out?” George hears the higher register in his voice, and feels the way his heart rams against his sternum. He can’t look at Toye so he pokes the fire instead. A hot splinter flies onto his hand and he lets it sting, steering his full attention to the tiny patch of burning flesh.

Toye’s voice is thick with the lack of sleep, but more importantly is suddenly right behind George’s ear, brushing against the tiny hairs he didn’t know existed there. “I won’t tell if you don’t. I can keep a secret,” whispers Toye. George almost moans, but catches himself. It comes out a fumbling huff instead. The tightness of his trousers stop him from moving away.

“Well,” George tries to say. His zipper brushes against his skivvies and he almost jumps. If not for the jacket, the tented crotch area of his trousers would be on full display. Christ, he hopes Toye’s sleep-deprived enough to forget all this by the end of the march. “I can’t.” 

Toye laughs, fully now. George feels it on his nape, the hahas hitting his skin like long-burning coals. God, it felt good. 

“I’ll try it on you one day, Luz,” says Toye. George isn’t sure if he imagines Toye’s palm resting on his hip. It's too much and he feels like passing out. All the blood from his brain seems pool to right down into his crotch. It was getting harder to think, let alone respond. 

“You’re funny,” manages George eventually. Toye’s breath smells like Juicy Fruit, sweet.

“Yeah? I like surprising people like that,” says Toye, like a purr. When he moves away, Toye keeps the smile fixed on his face. The missing pressure of his hand leaves a cold mark on George’s side. So that was real. The affirmation only intensifies the heat below his stomach.

“You make a habit of shoving enlisted men against walls?” breathes George. It feels too good to keep this line of conversation going, everything in his body says so. But George couldn’t trust himself or his faculties. He was still thinking of Juicy Fruit in his mouth.

“Among other things.” Toye smirks lazily at him, and tilts his head up at the sky. George tells himself it’s the fatigue and the proximity to smoke that makes every word Toye says sound flirtatious. This fucking march had everyone acting strange, especially him.

“You are insane,” he says again, voice trembling. No way in hell was this guy a fairy. Didn’t fucking look like one anyway, all broad shouldered and angular. Nothing about him swished: not his fucking voice, or his fucking hips. Shit just don’t add up like that. But neither did the tightness in his OD trousers that didn't feel like it would disappear fast enough.

“A compliment coming from you, George.” Toye buries his face in his palms. “Fuck, I’m tired,” he says, the words drawn out of him like an exhale.

George watches his body sway slightly, tipping almost imperceptibly in and out of consciousness. “You sleep at all Joe?” Toye yawns as an answer; it shudders through him. He was just tired and spread thin, George thinks, they all were. And that got you acting different, that got you acting abnormal.

“No. But Evans still has it out for me. He’s lurking somewhere,” Toye says, not looking up from where George thinks he’s already fallen half asleep. The sharp angles of Toye’s shoulders droop, sagging under the weight of a second day without sleep. George lights another cigarette, finally, to keep his hands from doing something really fucking stupid like throwing a blanket over Toye and shoving his head onto his lap. Shit that guy from Dog Company can’t do, he thinks, feeling an odd barb of possessiveness while looking at Toye’s drooping head.

“Hey, I got this, all right?” argues George, gesturing at the growing fire.

“Shut up, Luz. I’m not looking for handouts.” But Toye’s voice dips in volume, belying the stubbornness in it.

“C’mon, Joe. You can’t be the only one handing out favors from the goodness of your heart,” George offers something like understanding. From his palms, Toye glances up at him, questioning. He’d look almost offended if he didn’t look so soft.

“Twenty minutes. Sleep. We got thirty-eight miles left in the morning and you look like shit,” continues George. Toye’s gaze doesn’t move away from him. So he stares back, feeling a little selfish, tracing Toye’s dark lashes and pink lips with his eyes. He wonders if they’ll ever get to sit this close again. “I’m saying if Evans comes around, I’ll charm him for ya.”

“Yeah?” says Toye, still looking at George, a small smile hooked on his lips. The sounds of the camp feel like they’ve all but disappeared. “Yeah. You’re good at that.”

His cigarette burns down to the filter but George continues to suck on it, unable to fish it out with his shaking hands that he’s hidden in his jacket pockets. They’re warm now, so it couldn’t have been the cold causing the trembling. He can still feel Toye’s laugh ricocheting on his neck.

Toye breaks their little staring contest and faces the fire. “Fine, twenty minutes.” 

“Sure buddy.” George watches Toye’s chin droop down onto his chest and his eyes flutter shut, lashes twitching. He’s asleep immediately. When he’s sure Toye was out cold, George fishes out a blanket from his pack and drapes the whole thing across Toye’s shoulders with a gentleness he didn’t know he had. “Take as long as you like.”

[atlasofthestaars]

[MK X READER] New Era - Chapter .001

Note: Will use events from Mk9-11 + Aftermath. I am changing canon for some characters to fit the story. Changing canon in general for MK1, so at some point I will add in scenes not in the main story and probably will diverge from it in the end. Some character personality changes, not major, but enough to add depth. Slight character dynamic changes (Mostly Lin Kuei, so the trio feel slightly closer as a whole)

Also excuse the small exposition dump that happens through the chapter, it was needed to set up plot points in the future, so in the future we can get to those juicy character interactions easier!

LOVE INTERESTS: Liu Kang, Kung Lao, Raiden, Johnny Cage, Kenshi, Reptile, Scorpion (Kuai Liang), Sub Zero (Bi-Han), Smoke, Shang Tsung, Mileena, Kitana, Ashrah, Havik, Rain

Also on AO3: NEW ERA

part two

FROM THE EYES OF ONE WHO DOESN'T REMEMBER

Memories are fickle things. 

Awakening in the middle of a field, you heard the buzzing of bugs, and the grass beside you moved as a creature scurried past. Your head hurt, and a fog settled in your mind as if it were blocking something. You sat up slowly, noting the moonlight shining down on the area around you.

You looked down at your hands. It was odd, it felt like you were familiar with it, yet at the same time it felt all too foreign to you. You wiggled your toes, feeling the grass brush against them to remind you that they existed. 

Where were you?

Swallowing any dread you felt building up, you stood up wearily. Your body swayed as you got up, almost stumbling into the grass once more. The area around felt devoid of humans, undisturbed nature spreading far. It was beautiful and breathtaking, but it only soothed you for a moment before panic began to seep back in again.

Where were you?

In the distance was a soft light. A flame? Perhaps. You dragged your feet as you walked towards it. You’d rather go discover whatever that was then stick around being lost wherever you had woken up. 

Why were you there in the first place? 

Fear was crawling down your back at the inability to answer the nagging questions within your head. Shaking it off, you continued on. The closer you got, the better you could identify where the flame was from. 

A temple of sorts?

It had a dragon motif from what you could see, and it was constructed mainly from wood and stone. Red shingles, or at least you assumed it was…it was hard to see in the moonlight, lined the rooftops of the temple ahead. The tree leaves even seemed to be red. There were multiple buildings, one being a tall tower, and a few smaller buildings. The flame, which was quite large from what you could see, was lit in a pavilion of sorts.

Your mind throbbed as a vague memory of a temple floating in the sky appeared in your mind. But this wasn’t that same temple. Not at all. Why were you thinking of that?

Soon enough, you found yourself at the entrance of the area, marveling at the architecture and the beauty of the area up close. How wonderful. Eventually, you spotted two figures walking towards you. 

The first thing you noticed was their glowing blue eyes.

Not knowing what to do, you stood there. Although you felt a pit of dread build up in your stomach as they approached, you stood unwavering. You grimaced, not at the sight of them, but at how the figures coming closer seemed to intensify a dull throb that had been building up in the back of your head.

Silly as it was, were they the cause of your headache? Of the fog in your head that seemed to block out any memories you tried to pry from your mind? 

You watched as the two figures, that you could now identify as men, approached. You could read a vague sense of concern on one of their faces, and the other held a sense of shock on his. They walked over a bridge, stopping at the top as if to create a sense of height. You looked up at them, your will not wavering despite the dread that was building in your stomach.

Your headache, why was it hurting so much?

You watched as one of them held out his hands, forming one a fist connecting to his palm. He smiled at you. It felt warm. The other nodded his head in acknowledgement, but you could see the small smile he had as well. You stumbled as your headache turned into a sharp pain, as if someone had just stabbed your head. Gasping, you stumbled forward. 

The man who had been presenting his hands grabbed you to steady you, and you noted the strange sense of familiarity as he did so. His wrapped hands were firm as he helped you right yourself. You looked up into his eyes, and without thinking, a name popped into your head.

“Liu Kang?”

The dread you felt in your stomach turned into fear as the man’s eyes widened, and the vague shock that had been on his face before was now on full display. He glanced over to his companion who held the same look of shock before they both looked down at you, almost accusingly.

“How did you know that?”

That was years ago.

Shortly after the shock had worn off, you had been escorted into the fire temple. They gave you a place to rest for the night, but you could hear the whispers of Liu Kang and Geras as they walked away. What they were discussing, you weren’t certain.

You could hear the concerned tone in their voice loud and clear despite that.

The next morning in what was perhaps the politest interrogation ever, it was revealed that you had a lack of memories.

Kind of.

You had memories, or at least you thought so, but they were all jumbled up in your head. They felt wrong, and foreign and they didn’t match up with what you were seeing. After all, your mind was telling you the man who was interrogating you was Liu Kang…but it was not the same mortal man that popped into your mind. 

You also eventually recognized Geras, which seemed to alarm the two even more, even if they were subtle about it. Eventually, after long deliberation with each other, Liu Kang eventually came up to you and offered you a place to stay at the fire temple due to your lack of memory and residence.

You were relieved to have a place to rest and stay, even if you had a nagging feeling that the offer was a disguised excuse to keep a close eye on you.

You supposed that was fair.

Eventually, the memories you had came back slowly over the years, and you confided in Liu Kang about them. This led to an eventual friendship with the god as you unraveled the strange situation that you were in. The man, though cordial, had been wary at first of you. You thought that was reasonable. A random stranger showing up in rags and recognizing you without introduction?

That was suspicious for certain, you could not blame the fire god for his caution. Especially since he proclaimed himself to be the Protector of Earthrealm, you could have easily been a threat.

Thankfully, you were not. Or at least, he seemed to deem that you were not. Although you had a jumbled mess of mismatching memories, the two of you had concluded that the memories you did have were visions of sorts, of other realities, and that the memories you used to have were gone. 

Visions of other worlds traded for the memories of your past. That’s what he told you, anyways. You had a sinking feeling that wasn’t quite true, and that was the biggest secret you held from Liu Kang. After all, the more memories you regained, the less it felt that they were random visions. 

They felt like a past life…and maybe they were. You weren’t certain yet. You had a nagging feeling there were many memories left to unlock.

The guilt of hiding this doubt, this secret, was immense at first. Ignoring the fact that you were lying to a god, you were concealing doubts from a man who had offered you shelter and food.

Eventually the guilt died down into near nothingness, but there was still a twinge of guilt every time you lied about it.

Aside from that, you rediscovered abilities that you had not realized you had. 

Shapeshifting into animals. You could transform your whole body into creatures, or parts of them. It was a helpful power, you found. You also seemed to have some sort of muscle memory of fighting skills. Lord Liu Kang had once offered to train you, and to both of your surprise, you were quite skilled.

Rusty at first, but it was obvious your body knew how to fight. It was nothing that years, or in all honesty, months could not fix.

Another ability you realized after a few years was how your body did not seem to age. Or at least, not in the same way humans did. At first, the monks seemed to chalk it up to good genetics, complimenting on how you seemed to keep your youth. However, as more years passed, whispers of magic arose.

Concerned with the strange state of your body, you confided in the fire god. Liu Kang suggested that your body was one that lived longer, perhaps of one that was not native to Earth, or Earthrealm as he called it…an edenian, perhaps? He explained the realm of Outworld, and the existence of the realms in general. He had once explained it much before, along with some monks, but not to the historical extent he had given you at that time.

Through these explanations, you remembered Outworld much more clearly, but the memories of Outworld were once again inconsistent with the world he described.

The Outworld you knew had been run by a tyrant before it was passed to an heir that had been overthrown. It was war hungry, and not at all pretty as he described. Liu Kang offered that, perhaps, when the Mortal Kombat tournament rolled around in a few years, you could join him and the champions he would bring to Outworld.

You agreed, of course. Maybe that realm was key to unlocking more memories, and more explanations. Even though you cherished the Fire Temple, a place you had learned to call home, you now had a purpose going forward.

Go to Outworld to seek the rest of your memories.

And now, you were here, enjoying another peaceful morning in the Fire Temple.

Staring out from the pavilion, you inhaled deeply as you took in the sunrise. You could never tire of the beautiful view. Your ears picked up the soft sound of someone walking towards you, and you turned around, already familiar with who it was. 

“Hello, Liu Kang.” You greeted, a smile on your face as you nodded towards the fire god. The fire god sent you a soft smile in return as he walked up to be by your side. Due to your memories of a younger, mortal Liu Kang that had popped up so often at first, you had taken up a nasty habit of addressing him casually. You tried to fix this, but he had permitted you to address him casually in private.

It felt like a strange honor.

He greeted you, your name rolling off his tongue in a familiar way as his hands settled on the railing much like yours were. It was common for the two of you to meet up here at sunrise, to indulge in the simple yet breathtaking view. It was a tradition from years ago.

“Beautiful morning, isn’t it?” Liu Kang inquired, much like he did nearly every morning. He gazed at the horizon with a sense of serenity and peace before his glowing eyes landed on you. With a chuckle you turned your gaze to the horizon he had been staring at previously.

“It is, just like it is every morning.” You mused, watching as the sky lightened, the darkness making way for the pretty light blue hues as a pink and orange color settled over the horizon. Your fingers tapped the wood as you hummed, remembering that something special was happening today. “Today we’re going to the village of Fengjian, correct?” You inquired, a surge of excitement buzzing through you.

You had been around the world here and there over the years to accompany Liu Kang and sometimes even the Lin Kuei, but it had been a while since your last venture. 

“Correct, Madam Bo said two of her trainees were ready for the exam scenario, and today we're going to observe.” Liu Kang said, nodding as he confirmed the plans he had told you about two weeks ago. You noted how he kept his gaze intent on you, as if analyzing your reaction. You could not hold back the smile on your lips.

“Excellent, it’s been forever since I’ve had Madam Bo’s cooking.” You commented, remembering just how delicious the older woman’s cooking was. You were nearly drooling at the thought of it. Not only that, but Madam Bo was someone you valued as well.

Whenever you saw her, you were reminded of a fatherly figure who you hazily remembered who drunk a lot of alcohol. It was odd, but she too must have sensed the connection, as she took you in as if you were a child of her own ever since she met you. You wished you could go out to see her more.

You opened your mouth to speak, but you heard the faintest of footsteps. Reflexively, you transformed your ears into those of bats and craned them around to hone in on the sound. You tilted your head as you focused before you turned to look at Liu Kang, ears turning back to normal.

“I thought the Lin Kuei were to come later?” You inquired, revealing that you were now aware of their presence. You heard some muttering before the three assassins revealed themselves. Sub Zero, Scorpion, and Smoke. Three of the Lin Kuei you had grown closest to during your association with Liu Kang.

“That was the plan, but we decided to meet up earlier to discuss the plan as we shall leave earlier to get in position to observe.” Liu Kang explained. The two of you turned around to face the three. You smiled at the three. Smoke and Scorpion both bowed to the two of you. Sub Zero, notably, did not, but you did notice the slight nod of acknowledgement sent your way.

“Perceptive as always, and I thought we could finally sneak up on you.” Smoke greeted, addressing you as he spoke your name, a light playful tone to his voice. Smoke was always the friendliest of the three, it was a delight to talk to him. He was the most casual. You noted the slightly irritated glare from Sub Zero sent his way.

You surmised that Smoke had managed to convince the two others to also sneak in. You could not tell whether the irritation was from having to partake in such a silly endeavor, or if it was due to the fact that he blamed Smoke for giving the three of them away.

“Maybe another time, Tomas.” You chuckled, covering your mouth as you did so. Despite your words, you were competitive, and you weren’t planning on giving up in the ongoing game that you had both been playing for a while now. “Regardless, it is good to see you all, it’s been a while.” With that, you nodded towards Liu Kang, letting him go over the plan with the trio.

You observed silently as excitement coursed through your veins.

You had a feeling that tonight was going to be something special.

part two

[teddy-bear-naps-and-random-snaps]

[gruvu]

Been dragging my feet on this and so here are with the last piece of 2023 that I did. WITH a small intro into the story.

To summarize this stardew valley au, my farmer Beau ends up with a alien child and very much is living a horror film narrative for a hot second. Regardless it's just found family. Now down below is the first chapter, you don't gotta read it but if you do I hope you enjoy.

Warning: Injury detail of burns and mentions of war. Just a heads up if you're uncomfortable.

A full year and yet the sounds of the cabin kept the man awake in his sagging bed. The deep moaning of the structure reminded him constantly how he should have asked Robin for an estimate on updating the supports. He had been so wrapped up in getting this farm together, he hadn’t bothered much in his living space. And now with another winter coming, he became aware how unprepared he had been the first time. 

With a deep sigh he rolls onto his side, pulling the blankets over his head hoping to dampen the noise around him as the night moves on around him. The ticking of his clock began to finally lull him asleep only for the house to rattle then the rafters shook as something plowed through the top of the roof. A scream erupted from him as the sound of splinters erupted and could feel pieces of shingles falling upon him and the floor. Has the war reached the valley? No no, not possible! Regardless he scrambled out of bed, hurrying to his light and flicking it on as he looked up towards the rafters.

In the light dust was still sprinkling down from a circular cut though the top. As if someone had used a cookie cutter through the middle of his shingled roof. Almost perfectly carve out if only the wood hadn’t splintered. He could feel the cool fall breeze drift into his small farm house, making him hurry to grab his robe on the coat rack only to pause as he peers out the window. A soft pulsing blue light came from outside, coming from one of his recently cleared fields… “This is a horrible idea.” Beau mutters to himself, as he shoves his feet into his rubber boots before grabbing the club he had in the umbrella stand and leaving the safety of his home into the cool night full of strange dangers. 

The leaves rustled as he steps down the creaking wooden stairs, the pulsing blue light allowing him to find the disturbed earth as something had slammed and skidded through his field. His mind is going to the worst places, but if he could see it and run really fast maybe he could warn the town if there was any danger. Surely this wouldn’t be like one of those horror movies where the stupid teenager goes towards the danger right? CRUNCH. He yelps looking down as he hops away from the piece of metal, giving off a spark causing the man to hesitate to move forward. Wait.. Maybe it was just a satellite? For tv! Nothing spooky about that. With denial and curiosity at his back, he moves towards the impact site. Finding himself staring into the steam at… “What the..” He murmurs, squinting through the bright glow, his club lowering as the farmer draws closer. Using his hand to wave away the steam he could see what had landed in his field. It was a cylinder in shape, and slightly bigger than the barrels he used to age his cheese in the shed. The capsule of some kind wasn’t glowing itself but what it held inside. A fizzy, bubbling glowing blue liquid that began to dim down revealing something in it. Beau had to move around to get a better view, sliding a bit in his boots nearly colliding with the strange alien object. Now closer, crouching down to see the capsule better he squints into the odd substance. “Huh.. There’s.. There’s something.. In there.” He murmurs, as he moves his hand to touch the glass, at first yanking back thinking it was horribly hot only for him to find it only warm to the touch. There was something fleshy in there bobbing in the liquid, but at this angle it was hard to tell what it was. It seemed all common sense of fear left him as he tossed the club away to move the capsule upright, one of the two green lights on the “lid” of the capsule turned orange, a garbled static voice spoke out and sudden searing pain came from his hand. Panic took over as the farmer tried to pull his hand away only for it to stay attached to the top of the lid.

“H-HELP! HELP! SOMEONE!” He yells trying to pull away, not paying attention to the fluid inside the capsule in his panic. If he had, he would notice drops of what might have been dye were put into the capsule. A small mechanical arm inside with a metal needle poked the strange fleshy object inside, making it twitch in response. Then the orange light turned blue and the farmer tumbled back with a startled yell.

Laying there in the dirt, he held his hand in pain. Unable to see the wound in this light but it felt like a burn or something… He was definitely going to have to talk to the doctor about this. Sitting up now he looks towards the source of his pain, the capsule’s fluid inside a sickly green and bubbling like a freshly carbonated drink. He didn’t know what to do now, no one would be up. He would need to talk to Gunther because this clearly was no missile or any war related object. It was something else entirely and he was deeply afraid.

Staring at it for hours, even as the sun began to rise up over the mountains around the town of Stardew Valley, the farmer watched the capsule. Only when something rubbed against his back did he snap out of his sentry-like state.

“AHH!” He whips around, only to see his large gray and white cat, letting out a chirp in response to his yell.

“I- oh.. It’s you Yogi.” He relaxes, reaching out to touch her only to hiss. Looking now at his hand it was red and… Yeah he needed to go see Harvey.

Moving up to his feet, finding himself stiff only for his back to crack and then his neck. He needed to take care of the animals and-

His dark eyes drift over to the capsule now lit up in the early sunrise, a soft hum over the bubbling noises reminding him of its presence pretty quickly. 

He needed to get that thing somewhere locked up first. Then he could show Gunther, but with his hand. He would NOT be touching that thing again. Not without some kind of protection. The stiff farmer walked back to his cabin, his cat chirping at his heels along the way, cooling off his hand with some water and then wrapping it up in gauze bandage before getting properly dressed. He was trembling all the while, grabbing his large quilt to simply cover the capsule with it and dragging it into his shed and rolling it into a corner where it stayed glowing faintly. Beau tried to remain calm but all the while it stayed in the back of his mind as he fed his beloved barn animals. Thankfully he had to focus as he tried get milk only to struggle with the one hand, the pain did help keep his mind off things but it only made it clear that he had to also go to the doctor. Nine AM could not come fast enough.

~~~~~ “Beau the doctor will see you now.” “Thanks Maru.” He ducks into the back, wishing he could have grabbed some pickles or a cup of coffee for the doctor. Would soften the lecture that could be on his way. He knocks on the door and enters seeing Harvey check some notes only to glance up and smile at the farmer, sending Beau’s stomach into a fluttering of butterflies. “Good morning Beau. Maru tells me you hurt your hand. Why don’t I take a look.” He pats the table for him to sit on, all the while looking over the somewhat disheveled man. A slight frown of concern flickered for a moment before going to unwrap his hand tenderly. “Mmmgh.” He winces, pulling his hand back slightly. The doctor frowns, pausing his attempt. “Do you need me to stop?” “No no. I just.. It hurts.” “Well what did you do?” Harvey showed no judgment or disappointment as he continued to unwrap the hand. Truly expressing concern and worry for the man that had more than once ended up in his office with devastating wounds from the monsters in the mines. “...I burned it. I think?” Beau shrugs as his hand is exposed showing the bright pink skin, the entire flat of his hand was raw with his palm having a large burn in the shape of a neat square. The doctor looks down at it, his dark brows furrowed, having seen plenty of burns over his time here but it was odd. So clean and the area around the nasty burn was more or less fine. “What do you mean you think?” He raises a brow studying the burn. It wasn’t anything horrible but would need to be cleaned properly and ointment would be applied. “I.. I.. Don’t know what I burned it on. I couldn’t really see anything?” “Were you in the dark? Hit it on the stove top?” “I was in the dark.. Outside. There… There was this..” Beau wasn’t sure what to tell him, then again the doctor had treated him for flying lizards. “A thing. Like a mason jar but barrel size and it crashed and I touched it. And this happened.” “...You touched an unknown object that crashed?” “Yes! And it’s in my shed.” “In your shed...When did this happen exactly?” Harvey walks over to the desk door, poking his head out. “Maru, could you please get a bowl of warm saline and soap? Thank you.” He ducks back in to look at the farmer. Seeing his hair a mess, the trembling from the lack of breakfast and wide eyes. He was in distress and he came to the doctor for help. There would be no way Harvey would turn his back on him. “It.. It was early.. Early in the morning? One maybe two AM?”

“Have you been up since then?”

“Harvey I’ve had a consistent sleep schedule, I am not losing it over missing a couple hours.” 

“You would be surprised with little sleep you would do to someone… Why don’t you take me to see this mason jar during my lunch break.”

“Yeah and I can grab Gunther too or maybe Demetris? Someone has got to know what it is…”

“I am sure we can figure this out, but in the meantime I’ll clean up that hand and wrap it in some fresh gauze. Then you can lay down in one of the beds for a bit. Catch up on some sleep.”

“That…That sounds really nice.” Beau smiles a bit, his shoulders relaxing as a weight comes off his shoulders. Maru knocks and comes in, bringing the bowl and soap. Harvey thanks her and gets to work. 

Cleaning the hand with the utmost care and tenderness, being aware of how sensitive the burns were with even unwrapping. Drying the hand and putting ointment over the palm easing down the burns before dressed with dry clean gauze wraps.

“Reminds me of the first summer. When you had to rub aloe all over me.” Beau smiles trying to break the silence after watching Harvey tend to his hand. The doctor’s cheeks turned a soft pink as a smile appeared under the mustache.

“You were as red as a tomato. I told you to make sure you put plenty of sunscreen on.”

“I know I just got caught up with trying to clear out one part of the section.”

“Well we both know you could barely move the next day. I am just glad I had plenty of aloe for you.”

The two chuckle as the doctor finishes wrapping his hand. “Now I’ll get some painkillers and you can rest a bit.” 

The farmer nods, as the doctor pats his shoulder. The two walk back and Harvey gets him to lay down. All the while the humming in the shed grew louder as the color of the boiling fluid turned slowly from green into a more sickly olive. The form inside twitched and grew.

[gretavangroupie]

Transcendent - Two

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Female Reader

Word Count: 15.6k

Warnings: Mentions of Alcohol, Smoking, Cursing, Mention and Use of Magic, Black Magic, Curses, Mentions of Death, Anxiety, Attempted Assault, Mention of Injury, Blood, Arranged Marriage, Sadness, Crying. Smut: Sexual Themes, Heavy Pining, Kissing, Touching, Fingering.

A/N: Surprise! @gretavanmoon and I are back with another chapter of what has to be our favorite project yet. Without giving too much away, this will not be your traditional storyline. We've been dreaming on this one for a while and after a quick little break we are ready to get back to business. There will be no posting schedule with this story, taking it as it comes to give you the best story possible. But, it will be ongoing throughout this Winter and Spring season. As always, thank you for reading, liking, commenting and reblogging. It means the world to us and truly keeps us going.

The harsh sunlight blinds me as my eyes flutter open and I find myself  in some type of field laid out on my back. My trousers feel wet, as does my shirt. I can feel water between my fingers, and a few wet strands of hair against my neck. I can hear what sounds to be crickets hiding in the tall grasses around me, though they don’t resemble any grasses I’ve ever known. They’re thin and razor sharp with a bundle of seeds at the tip. The water beneath me  is murky and brown and I cannot see through it, though I know it’s shallow. Maybe only a few inches deep. The grass seems to be in perfect rows, and I quickly realize this is a crop field, not a grass field. 

As I pull myself up out of the water, the chill in the air bites at my wet skin and clothing, sending a shiver through my body. Goosebumps raise along my skin and a chatter falls from my teeth.  As I look around I see endless rows of crops, and in the far off distance what seems to be a barn or small farm. It takes all my effort to trudge through the muddy water, finally finding the edge of the crop field. I cannot name the crop, but I know it’s nothing I have seen in Louisiana. 

Large Oak trees occupy the perimeter of this land, thick with spanish moss and heavy with foliage. The landscape is so different from what I have known, with large rolling fields of grass and less swamp land.  As I step onto dry ground I do my best to wring out my trousers with water still dripping from my hair. I panic as I reach for the front pocket of my frock coat, hoping my book isn’t soiled with the dirty water. As my hand reaches into the pocket, I find it dry and untouched. As the wind blows again, I realize that I need to rid myself of these wet garments before I fall ill. 

I hear Serphine’s voice in my head, telling me of the tree that would hold the items I needed to blend in. “Find a tree with three mother trunks, and a deep hole at its center. There, inside, will be everything you will need to survive in the place and time you find yourself.” I hope there will be dry clothing there, though I am not quite sure what to expect. I search the trees in the distance looking to find the one she spoke of, three large trunks with a hole at the center. I walk quite a ways closer to the property, not finding the tree I am searching for, but as I draw nearer to what I now know is a barn, I locate the large Oak I am looking for. 

It is just behind the large white wooden barn, and as I round the corner I am met with quite a sight. A grand estate sits just off to the right, with a stately double staircase leading up to a full wrap-around porch filled with large white columns. The house must be three stories tall, each level having a generous covered balcony. I’ve never seen anything quite so ornate in all my time as a carpenter. But it's the roof that steals my breath away. I see what must be ten large chimneys protruding from the shingles, but the crowning jewel of the home is its large copper spire at the center of the roof, catching the sun and shining brightly. Something tells me that she is in there, but this doesn’t seem to be the place where one can just barge right in. 

I shake away my awe and make my way to the tree, feeling a bit foolish as I reach inside the hollow of the trunk. Shock runs through me as I feel a canvas sack brush against my fingers. I pull the bag from the tree and drop to the ground with it as I empty its contents. Inside is a new pair of light colored wool trousers,  a white long sleeve half button shirt, a pair of leather suspenders, a wide brim hat and a pair of work boots. Inside is also a small leather pouch with a pocket knife, etched with the image of an hourglass. I know this is Seraphine’s doing, a small reminder of my limited time. 

I quickly redress myself in the new clothing, instantly feeling warmer thanks to the wool trousers. I place my soiled clothes in the sack and pocket the knife, ready to head towards the mansion in search of answers. As I start out toward the footpath, I am quickly stopped by an incoming carriage making its way up the small dusty path towards the barn, and as I change my path I realize that the barn is actually a large carriage house. I watch as the horse trots toward the stables, furrowing my brows as I notice it favoring its rear hoof. My hunch is telling me that Y/N is somewhere on this sprawling property, and I realize that this horse and its injured hoof could be my ticket inside. 

I sling my sack over my shoulder as I rush towards the stables, watching as the carriage is unhooked from the horse and wheeled back into its storage slot. I can hear the whinnying of several horses at varying ages as I slowly step inside the building trying not to spook the horse that has finished its work. A large statured man is tending to this horse, patting his neck as he begins to lead it away to the stables. 

“‘Scuse me, sir?” I say. 

He turns abruptly, clearly startled by my presence. “Walkin’ tour starts at the main house.” he says, nodding to the estate behind me. 

“Oh, I’m with no tour, sir,” I explain, “I couldn’t help but notice your Gelding there seems to be favoring his right rear hoof.”

He raises a brow to me and looks down at the horses back hooves. “You noticed that from the walking path?”

“I did,” I nod, gesturing towards the hoof, “I know you don’t know me from Adam, but if you’d like I could take a look at it for you. I’ve worked with horses most of my life.��

He takes a good long look at me, as if trying to decide if I am telling the truth of not before nodding. “Alright, have a look. Simon is a calm horse, shouldn’t give you no trouble.”

I nod to him as I  gently drop my sack to the floor and place my hand on the hindquarter of the horse to let him know I am there. He twitches beneath my hand as I pet his coat, finding it to be in immaculate condition. I don’t know what this place is that I have found myself in, but they seem to care for the look of things and this horse and stable are no exception to that. I then quickly move to grab the horse's back hoof, trapping it between my knees to disable his movement. The man was right, Simon gave me no trouble and let me look at the underside of this hoof. 

“Ahh,” I remark, “His shoe is too small. He has outgrown it by a large amount. This is causing him pain.”

The man huffs, “Sounds right. Our farrier has stopped coming to tend the horses. We haven’t seen him in several months. I fear it was a harsh winter last year and we’ve had no luck finding another,” he pauses, as I release the horse’s hoof, dusting my hands off on my trousers. The man extends his hand out to me, and I shake it, offering a small smile. 

“Name’s Elijah, yours?”

I clear my throat as I grip his hand tightly, “Jak–Jacob,” I correct. “I’d love to get this horse fixed up for you if you have the tools?”

His eyes grow wide, “Are you a farrier?” he asks desperately.

“Not by trade, I’m a carpenter, but my father taught me much about horses, and this is one of those things.”

“I believe we have the tools, but no one has used them. If you follow me I can take you to them,” he urges. 

I follow him out the large stall doors to the side of the building. As we walk I notice a large number of people walking the property near the home, admiring the gardens filled with azaleas and bright camellias. The people are dressed in fine clothing, finer than anything I’ve ever seen back home, and I wonder if I truly did make the jump to South Carolina. I didn’t really know what to expect but this was never in my imagination. 

Elijah returns from the shed with a small bag of farriers tools, everything I will need to replace the horses shoes, down to custom horseshoes. Again I turn my gaze towards the house, seeing the main entrance as we walk towards the horse stables. A large green and white sign sits at the entrance of the walking path, finally answering the question of where I have found myself and where my girl is. 

‘Magnolia Plantation and Gardens Ancestral Home of the Drayton Family Charleston, South Carolina Est. 1676 ’

—

Several hours and a farrying lesson later, Elijah feels confident in his newly acquired skill and I feel as though I have earned my reason to stay here and help out. When Elijah offered me the work, I took him up on it. The longer I am here, the more time I have to find Y/N. I will work in the stables with the horses, tending to their needs and helping Elijah manage the carriages and carriage house. 

I follow behind him as he walks me to my living quarters. I am pleasantly surprised to find out that my accommodations are included in the job and that I wouldn’t have to venture into town to find something. He leads me to a row of small white wooden houses, just large enough for one room. The door creaks open as he steps inside, where a thin layer of dust is covering most of the surfaces. 

“S’not much, but it gets you by,” he says, gesturing to the room. There is a wood burning fireplace in the center of the room, a small table and a chair, a full size bed with a few blankets and what looks to be a trunk for my belongings. 

“Thank you, Elijah,” I answer with a nod, “It’s more than I expected.”

He nods at me as he begins to make his way out of the quarters, pausing briefly at the door. “Supper is at dusk, just as the guests leave. Meet me at the carriage house and I’ll walk you down and introduce you to some other folks.”

“Thank you,” I respond, feeling the rumble in my stomach. 

He closes the wooden door behind himself, leaving me in the quiet dusty room. I take a seat on the small featherbed, happy to have it after spending the day hammering down horseshoes. I don’t know how long I will be here, but I am glad to have my own space somewhere close to Y/N. Now, I just have to find her. 

—

I meet Elijah at the carriage house right at dusk, eager to fill my hungry stomach. We walk along the walking path, passing the main house and some of the fields when I finally get the nerve to ask. 

“What crop is it, the one in the fields?” I ask, feeling slightly nervous. 

He smiles and laughs as he throws his arm over my shoulder, “Well, that's Carolina Gold Rice boy. Don’t you know where you are?” he jokes, and just as you start to stammer back an answer, a loud dinner bell rings alerting the help staff to supper. A large steamboat is pulling away from the dock on property, black smoke rising up into the evening air. 

We approach a building just off the main house that Elijah explains as the Dining House and Recreation Room for the staff. All meals are served here and this is where the staff comes to socialize after working hours. The room is lined with long tables and chairs, dimly lit by gas lanterns. It smells of kerosene and a warm meal, adding to the growing hunger in my stomach. I take a seat next to Elijah as he introduces me to a field worker named Henry and his wife Etta. They are kind folk and offer to show me around if I ever needed. 

We all stand and make our way to the supper line as the kitchen staff plates our meals, which seems to be some sort of stew. As I carry my bowl back to the table a glass of water is set in front of me by a housemaid. I look at the stew, seeing that it is made with what is very likely the same rice from the field just outside. It's rich, with a tomato base and full of vegetables. It is sure to fill my stomach. 

I listen as Etta and Elijah talk about the crop this year, trying my best to learn this new place I have found myself in. Henry looks to me as I spoon the stew into my mouth. 

“You from around here, boy?” he asks. 

I shake my head, “No sir. I’m new to this area, I’m from down South. Louisiana,” I answer. 

He nods, “I have some family back in Louisiana,” he pauses. “You know anything about this place?”

“No sir, just what Elijah has told me,” I admit. 

“So you didn’t fight in the War of the States?” he asks. I feel my pulse quicken as I struggle to answer him. I know nothing of the war he speaks of, but I think it best to be truthful. 

“No sir.”

“I figured as much. You know, this place actually burned to the ground. S’why everything looks so new and shiny. Mr. Drayton poured a small fortune into rebuilding the property. He lost a lot of land but rebuilt it double the size.”

I clear my throat, “It’s– It’s a beautiful property, seems very well kept.”

Elijah chimes in, continuing the conversation with Henry as I turn my face back to my supper. But it's then, out of the corner of my eye I see a flash of blue fabric rush past. I lift my head to find a house maid in a pale blue dress filling a water glass at the table across from me. My heart nearly bursts out of my chest. I’ve found her. Her hair is tied in a braid at the nape of her neck, a pale blue ribbon tied in a neat bow at the bottom. She works diligently filling water glasses with a smile, and I realize that I’m just as taken with her in this life as I was in the past. 

She turns quickly, spotting me behind her as I stare her down. Her eyes linger on mine for just a brief moment before looking away and returning to her work. My pulse is racing as my stew continues to drip off of my spoon into my bowl. It must be obvious that I’ve lost my mind when Elijah leans over and whispers over my shoulder. 

“That's Ms. Y/N. She is the children's nursemaid. Not too sure why she is out here on supper duty tonight. Very beautiful woman, but a smart man would steer clear of her if he intends to keep his job.”

I swallow down the lump in my throat as I nod, bringing my nearly empty spoon to my lips. 

“Now, I ain’t seen anything myself but, Mr. Drayton seems sweet on her,” he continues, keeping his voice low. 

“Oh, he is unmarried? You mentioned children. Did his wife pass away?” I ask, looking for a little more insight.

He scoffs, “No sir, she hasn’t. Mrs. Drayton is alive and well, but is often away in town.”

I feel heat start to rise in my cheeks, “I don’t understand.”

Elijah looks around before he speaks again, “Rumor is that Mr. Drayton is after a male heir. His son passed in the States War and Mrs. Drayton has only given female children since.”

“How does that involve Ms. Y/N?” I ask, dropping my spoon into my bowl. 

“I believe he intends to get one from… her.”

I feel my jaw tighten as I swallow harshly. “So are they– Do they, you know, get on well?”

“From what I have seen, quite the opposite. She despises him. Only stays to care for the children. She practically raised them. Quite a task since she is but a child herself. You ain’t hear none of this from me, ya hear?”

I nod my head quickly, turning to look over my shoulder for another glimpse of her, but as my eyes scan the room, I realize she is gone, and that maybe my purpose in this life isn’t to make her mine, but to keep her from someone with intentions much worse. 

—

The outside sounds so different here. Once things are silent and I can hear the nocturnal earth come to life around me, I feel a little out of place, expecting to hear the crickets and frogs that I’m used to, but instead hearing sounds of creatures that I’ve never heard before. 

My bed is hard and lumpy beneath my back, as it’s nothing but a sack filled with straw and feathers, but it’s better than sleeping on the ground. I take a deep breath as I realize I’m being hit time and time again with the realization of what I’ve done. I’ve jumped overtop of the hands of time, or swam beneath them, maybe, all to chase after a love that lasted no longer than a fortnight back in Louisiana. 

“Insanity,” I mumble to myself as I turn over in my bed, gazing out the window to the high trees lining the property.

 Insanity doesn’t even begin to cover it.

I’m a cursed man, what did I even expect of myself? To live my normal life day to day, simply being happy with the fact that I’ll stay twenty-five forever? No. My life wasn’t mine, anymore. And I have my brother to thank for that. This is a distraction…perhaps. Something to live for, chasing after Y/N lifetime over lifetime. 

It’s disorienting to recognize that I seem to have landed in the exact place that she resides; I wonder if it will always be that easy. Seraphine didn’t give me that detail, probably because it was unknown to her. Happenstance or not, I guess I will have to find out on my own. 

My eyes are growing heavy as I let the peaceful new sounds lull me to sleep, the harsh smell of manure and straw now beginning to embed themselves into my skin and clothing. The scent reminds me of times past with my father and Joshua as he taught us everything we ever knew about equine life. And carpentry. And silversmithing. 

I grip my silver charm in my hand as I finally let sleep begin to overtake me. It brings me comfort for some reason, though the hands that crafted this talisman hated me so that he purposefully changed the trajectory of my life, and, unknown to him, changed his own life in the process. I wonder where Joshua has ended up, I wonder how he felt when he landed here in this new time and space. I wonder how confused he is, how terrified that we’re now alive eleven years in the future, in a different universe altogether. He doesn’t have the comfort of the book that Sera gave me, or the advice she bestowed me with. He’s clueless, out there wandering around aimlessly. I wonder how long it will take him to realize that his whole plan may have backfired.

A stream of thoughts enters my mind, and I think back on what Elijah had said about how Y/N despises Mr. Drayton. I wanted to press him for details, but the last thing I need is suspicion. My judge of character tells me that Elijah is trustworthy, though I do need some time to solidify that. 

She looked beautiful today, even from afar. Just the same in her mannerisms and movements, but all the more different at the same time. The draw my body feels to her is still very much alive and well, and I’m thankful that I was able to feel my heart rate rise from seeing her again. I drift off to thoughts of her, how her lips felt on mine the day at the pond, how she felt writhing beneath me, and how my chest caved in on itself the night the doctor told me she hadn’t made it. A fate I would wish upon no man to ever experience. 

But suddenly I’m awoken by a different sound, and it trumps my thoughts and the crickets lulling me. It’s rustling in the grasses, it’s laughter in the distance. I sit up in my bed and rub my tired eyes, pulling my blanket from across my lap to grab my bedside candle. I quietly creep across the squeaky boards of my quarters, allowing the glow of the light to follow me along to the window. I suddenly panic, realizing that I don’t have any protection in case an intruder of sorts were coming up on me. 

It’s then that I catch sight of another candle flame off in the distance, right underneath the largest iron oak tree I’ve ever seen. I peer more closely and finally make out what I’m seeing, four little girls barefoot and dressed in their white nightgowns, dancing around the base of the tree trunk. 

Must be Mr. Drayton’s daughters. 

I smile as I watch them dance, holding hands and twirling around as they laugh and whisper to one another. They’re all very young, I notice, ranging from only maybe five to twelve years. The cool, thick air makes their breath visible, and I wonder what on earth they’re doing out here in the middle of the night. And why Y/N isn’t with them. 

I grin ear to ear when I realize they must have been feeling mischievous and snuck out of the home, much like Joshua and I would do as children. For no reason, other than feeling a sense of freedom and rebellion that only came with escaping from our house while our Father was fast asleep.

I watch as the littlest one begins to try and climb the thick, low branches of the tree, making it fairly far up before her sisters take notice, but do little about it as they continue dancing and playing in the shadows. Her agility astounds me, for as little as she is. 

But my impression is short lived, as I watch her lose her balance and topple off the branch onto the ground below her, immediately shrieking out in pain. Her sisters rush to her as I can hear her cries through my thin walls, and I contemplate on whether or not I should go to them. I don’t know them, I hardly know anyone here… but I can’t let her just lie there in pain if she truly has injured herself.

I step into my boots and rush out the door, hearing her sisters begin to cry along with her as her tiny voice shrieks. I pick up my pace as I rush more quickly to them, finally reaching the circle they’ve made around her. “Hey there, excuse me… My name is Jacob… is everyone alright?” I say before I approach them gently, not wanting to startle them too much in the darkness. “Where is your caretaker?”

The oldest one rushes to me, taking my hand and pulling me over to the scene. “Please help us, it’s Lottie, she fell! She hurt her arm!” she cries, gripping my elbow as I realize things might be worse than I’d thought. I gently kneel beside the girl and take a closer look, seeing that her wrist is already swelling. 

“What’s your name, again?” I ask her as I offer to take her arm. 

“L–Lottie… it hurts re-really baddddd,” she wails through loud cries, but she lets me take her injured limb. It’s most definitely sprained, and already bruising. I gently manipulate my fingers across her bones, thankfully feeling no break. 

“I know it must hurt, but you’re going to be just fine. Why are you girls out here so late? Why have you snuck out–”

“Please help her, mister!” the girls cry, just as scared for their baby sister as she is for herself. They must know they are going to be in trouble, too, for sneaking out past their bedtimes. 

I feel conflicted as I look around, debating on whether or not I should call for someone else, or if I should take the responsibility of carrying the girl back to the house. No one knows me here, yet, and seeing a strange man carrying the little girl could look badly on me. Her wrist continues to swell as she cries, and the girls all begin to panic.

“Lottie!” I hear a familiar voice off in the distance, traveling across the grounds and directly through my heart. “Kit, Marian, Evey… you girls step away from that man immediately!” She isn’t happy, just as my internal thoughts had presumed. I quickly rise from my kneel on the ground and stand, not wanting to startle her any more. “You get back from them, do you hear?!” she yells at me as she rushes across the yard. 

Still just as fiery and beautiful as ever. 

When she finally approaches, she puts both of her hands forcefully on my chest, pushing me backward until I stumble into the dirt. “How dare you! Who are you?!” she screams in my face, not caring a bit that I’ve fallen down. I watch as she rushes to Lottie, mumbling quiet concerned words to her as she assesses the scene. “Leave us be, get out of here, or I’m calling for Mr. Drayton!” she pushes her hand at the air behind her, telling me to vacate quickly. 

She gathers Lottie in her arms as she spits disciplines at the other girls, her tone deep and frustrated as she yells at them. 

“No no, Ma’am, please forgive me, I heard them outside playing and I watched her fall from the tree. I heard her crying and thought she had hurt herself, I’m so sorry, I just thought I could help,” I try and explain myself as I stand back up. 

She looks to me with a grit on her features, her jaw clenched tightly as I see the fire burning in her eyes. Worried, of course. 

“You’re a stranger, you shouldn’t have bothered–”

“No, Ms. Y/N, he was trying to help me, he tried to make me feel better, don’t yell at him,” Lottie explains through sobs. 

“We don’t know this man, children, you mustn’t talk to strangers!” Y/N barks back at them. “Back to the house, all of you!” she yells with a snap of her fingers. I watch as the other three little girls scurry across the grass, Y/N and Lottie trailing behind in the heavy fog. I stand unmoving as I catch sight of her glancing back at me for just a second, likely memorizing my face for whatever wrath I will succumb to tomorrow. 

I retreat back to my bed as I relax into a dissatisfied grunt, realizing that that couldn’t have gone worse.

—

It's a knock at the door that wakes me from my slumber. The sun is shining brightly through the dirty window and instinctively I pull myself up from my warm bedding to check for danger. As I peer through the glass I can see the figure of two people, and without a doubt one of them is Y/N.

I quickly pull on my trousers, tucking my hair behind my ears quickly before unlatching the door. I have no time for my shirt, but I don’t think that matters much as the knocking grows louder. A rush of nerves fill my body as I open the door, but the second I see Y/N it all disappears. 

“Mornin’,” I say, greeting Y/N and Miss Lottie.

“Good morning sir, I’m sorry to wake you at such an early hour, but Lottie here would like to say something to you,” Y/N answers, ushering Lottie closer to the door. 

I’m surprised to say the least, but more so I am sad to see the small girls’ wrist bundled up and in a splint. She seems shy, her cheeks turning pink as she begins to speak to me. I decide to meet her at eye level, crouching down before her as I rest my arms on my knees. 

“Sowwy we sneaked out of Daddy’s house and woke you up in the middle of the night,” she says, her sweet voice like honey to my soul. 

“And,” Y/N urges, nodding to the girl. 

“And fank you for trying to help me feel better about my arm,” she finishes, looking up to Y/N for her approval. 

A smile overtakes me, “Don’t be sorry for getting yourself injured on accident. Just be sorry that you couldn’t sneak back into bed without being caught.” I wink, earning me a big smile from the young miss. 

I let my eyes meet Y/N’s, a smile now on her own face. My eyes flick back to Lottie as I examine her splint. “May I?” I ask, hoping for permission. Y/N nods and I begin to adjust the splint so that it may sit more comfortably on her small arm. I stand quickly, stepping back inside to grab my old handkerchief, nearly useless to me now. 

I fashion a makeshift sling to hold her arm, relieving some of the pressure as I tie it over her shoulder. “There, not you won’t hurt it any further. Does it feel alright?” I ask her. 

“Yes sir. Fank you mister…”

I stand, dusting off my hands as I answer her. “Kiszka. But you can call me Jacob.”

It’s then that I take in the sight of Y/N in the full morning sun. Her hair tied back with a ribbon, and a beautiful dress, much nicer than the ones I’ve ever seen back home. 

Lottie begins to tug on Y/N’s skirts, looking back behind her as she hears her sisters playing off in the distance. “Can I go now, I want to play tag,” she asks Y/N, looking at her with longing eyes. 

“You may, but you must be careful with your arm. Do you understand?” she answers, adjusting Lottie’s braids. 

“Yes ma'am. I will!” she shouts, scampering off towards her sisters and leaving me and Y/N alone for the first time. 

I stand there in my doorway, doing my best not to stare at Y/N or be obvious about my infatuation with her in this new time. Her eyes meet mine, slowly they drift down though, and it’s then I remember I don’t have my shirt on, and I suddenly feel warm under her gaze. 

Though I may be warm, I can see her breath in the air of the early morning, the sun not warming the earth just yet. 

“Aren’t you cold?” she asks me, still eyeing my naked torso. 

I smile at her and shake my head, “No ma’am, I’m warm blooded. Always have been.” 

Out of politeness I step inside and grab my shirt, pulling the laces tight around my neck, before tucking it into my trousers. Her eyes never leave me though, clearly fascinated by me.

She pulls them away once she has noticed that I’ve caught her, quickly changing the subject as her cheeks grow flushed.

“Thank you– For trying to help little Lottie. The girls like to sneak out in the middle of the night and pretend they are runaways. This isn’t the first time I have chased them down late at night.” She smiles, and I find myself nearly swooning over the sweet sound of her voice, still a little raspy, just as I remember it to be. 

“Oh, it’s no problem ma’am. I apologize for overstepping. I didn't know the extent of her injury and I just wanted to make sure she wasn’t hurt worse,” I say, continuing our small talk as I take her in fully, just as she does me. 

“You know,” she pauses, “I saw you near the stables yesterday. Are you a new hire on property?”

I nod my head as I answer her, “Yes ma’am, just started as a farrier, helping out Elijah.”

“So then you would say you have an affinity for horses?” she confirms. 

“Sure do. I grew up with them,” I reply. 

I see her features soften, and a smile threatens her lips before she stifles it back. “Then you best get to the stables. I do believe they have already started their morning, and Mr. Drayton does not fool with tardiness.”

I quickly realize she is correct as I hear a horse whineigh in the distance. 

“Yes, I should be on my way. Thank you,” I answer, pulling on my boots and grabbing my hat. I pull my door shut as I step down beside her on the wooden steps. 

“Oh, and Jacob,” she calls out, causing me to spin around. 

“Yes, ma’am?”

“I also feel as if I should apologize for shoving you into the dirt. That wasn’t very ladylike of me,” she answers, looking a bit defeated. 

“You were protecting the girls. Never be sorry for that,” I answer confidently, tipping my hat to her as I take one last look before heading off to start my day. But as I walk away I can feel her eyes burning into my shoulders, and I resist the urge to turn back,  for fear if I do, my work shall never get done. 

—

“Aaagghh! I’m definitely going to have to go into town for some new boots, now!” I hear Elijah shout from the next stall over. “Son of a bitch!” 

I grin to myself as I adjust my hat and lean my rake against the wall, peering over to see what he is on about. I find him leaned over and cursing, scraping off a heavy bit of horse manure from the bottom of his boot. The heel has come completely off of the rest of the shoe. 

“Did any get on your foot, mate?” I ask, trying to contain my laughter. 

“Yes, of course it got on my foot, you nimwit!” he yells as he continues to try and clean himself, eventually giving up and waddling outside to the water troughs. 

My eyes follow him out the stable front doors outside into the yards, and the most beautiful sight catches my eye, Ms. Y/N and the children following alongside her. They’re headed right our way. 

“Afternoon, Ma’am,” I hear Elijah say as he tips his hat and passes her, “and little Ma’ams…”

My heart is in my throat as I watch her approach from under my hat, clasping her hands behind her back as she takes in the order of the stables. I try not to make myself known, keeping to raking out the old straw as I stay quiet. I haven’t seen her in days, and I can feel my emotions swirling as her proximity tightens in on me.

“Good afternoon, Jacob,” I hear her sweet voice greet me, still hiding a bit in the shadows as the girls run around freely. 

I clear my throat. “Oh, good afternoon, how is everyone today?” I ask, my voice shaky. I watch as little Lottie rounds the backs of her legs, her arms gripping around them as she hugs her. The wrist she injured is still wrapped, but she doesn’t seem to be as bothered by it as she was before. “Not climbing anymore trees, I presume?” I wink at her. 

“No, no more trees for quite a while,” Y/N laughs, running her hand along Lottie’s curly hair. “We actually thought we would stop by for another reason… We have a proposition for you, Sir.”

My interest is piqued, and I’m sure my expressions show it. I lean the rake against the wall again and extend my hand for them to follow me into a larger room of the stables. “Do tell?” I ask. 

Now, Lottie and Y/N are hand-in-hand as we walk, and I can’t help but swoon at the visual of the relationship the two of them obviously have. I know that she cares for these girls as if they are her own. 

“Well, for months now, Lottie has been saying how she wants nothing more than to learn to ride horses, but we’re being burdened by one problem,” she explains with a lull in her voice. 

“Besides the fact that she’s still so small…?” I jest, bulging my eyes at Lottie, making her skitter off into the corner.

“She’s actually very, very scared of the creatures,” Y/N whispers. “I told her there was nothing to fear of them, though they are giants in her eyes. She’s intrigued by them, but I think she just needs a little assistance in the getting used to them department.”

I bite my tongue into the corner of my mouth. “Aha, I see.”

“So, yesterday she said that she knows that Mr. Jacob works with the horses…and…”

I nod quickly as I take a deep breath. “I understand. I’d be more than happy to help her become more comfortable around them.”

I watch as Y/N’s face lights up, her eyes sparkling in the bright afternoon sunlight. “Oh, really, Jacob? Would you? If you have the time, of course…”

I ignore her formalities, instead going to the corner that Lottie has hidden herself in. I squat down to her level, watching as she cowers away just a bit. I slap my dirty hands against my trousers, and give her a reassuring smile. “How is your arm today, Miss Lottie? Not hurting too badly anymore?”

She slowly shakes her head. “Not so bad, now,” she answers quietly.

“Good,” I say, standing back up and offering my hand to her. “Come on, I hear you want to meet a horse.” 

I feel her tiny hand slip into mine, and I take this as a move in the right direction, step one of overcoming her fear with her. I walk with her along the stable openings, the horses leaning their heads out one by one as we pass.

“This one here is Fitzgerald, but we like to call him Fitz. He’s young, just like you. Full of energy. And this is Copper, she’s very fast.”

“How fast, Mr. Jacob?” she asks, squeezing onto my hand. 

“So fast that you can hardly see her as she zips past you! Quick as a lightning strike!” I explain with animation.

“And this is Frasier, Barclay, and Piper… and this one, this one is my favorite. Her name is Cecily.” I take my time introducing her to this last one, the one that I am trusting the most to try and let Lottie ride. 

“Cecily,” she repeats back, a bit of a lisp on her tongue. 

“That’s right. Cecily is twenty-four years old, if you can believe that,” I say. 

“My father purchased her when I was one year old,” I hear Y/N behind me, her voice gentle and reminiscent. I pause as I watch her run her hand along the animal’s nose. “The first horse I ever rode.” My heart swells again. She has a love for them in this life, too.

“Then that is somethin’ you and Lottie will have in common, hm?” I say, leaning into her just a bit. I watch as her cheeks brighten with pink as I make a point to let my eyes linger on hers for just a second too long. 

“Come on, Lottie,” I say as I grip under her armpits, lifting her to eye level with Cecily. “See? She is very sweet, even Ms. Y/N will pet her.” 

Lottie feels terrified in my grasp, but she bravely lifts her unbandaged hand, hesitating as she decides if she wants to touch her. 

“Go ahead, she won’t hurt you,” I encourage. And finally, she lets herself make contact, earning a sweet huff of air from Cecily’s nose. Lottie giggles loudly. 

“Would you like to ride her?” I ask, placing her back down on the ground.

“Nooo, no! I don’t wanna! I’m too a-scared!” she cries, whipping herself away again to hide behind Y/N’s skirts. 

I hear Y/N exhale a rough breath. “Well, this was progress, at least. She’d never even go near the stables before, let alone touch one of them. This is a big step forward–”

“What if I walk along with you?” I coyly interrupt her, looking back to Lottie. 

She snarls her nose. “If I ride one, can Ms. Y/N ride one, too?”

I look back to her in question. “We can saddle one for her, too, and you can ride alongside her, perhaps?”

I watch as Lottie thinks through the options I’ve given her, before confidently stopping on one. “Hm, no, I wanna go with you, Mr. Jacob.”

I laugh along with Y/N, opening the door to Cecily’s stall. “Alright, it’s settled then. Though I don’t know many good trails around here, I am still very new, you know… But I’m sure Ms. Y/N does.”

She smiles, “Yes, I suppose I’ll have to show you around if you’re going to be the one keeping our horses healthy.”

I put the finishing touches on the saddles and help Lottie up onto Cecily, still a bit nervous but less scared than before. “Hold on tight, with your good hand, just there. Perfect.”

I swear the old mare recognizes that Lottie is nervous as she gently trots around the field, carefully stepping over rivets in the ground from the plows. “See, Lottie? Not so bad huh?” I press, glancing at Y/N trailing behind with a soft smile on her face. “And you’re doing it all by yourself.”

“Not so bad,” she quietly replies, and I can tell her expression has softened. 

“Y/N, this way?” I ask, pointing to a clearing in the hedgerow. She nods and I walk the horse forward into the coverage of trees, giving us a little shade as we maneuver the worn-in trail. We go along for fifteen minutes or so and I listen to Lottie go on about the trees, her sisters, and Cecily, answering all the questions I can while knowing that Y/N could answer them better than I could. 

“Ms. Y/N, did you name her? Or did Grandfather?” Lottie asks, turning a bit to see her on her own horse. 

“I didn’t name her, she was still just a baby when she came to us, and I wasn’t yet old enough to talk. Do you like her? Are you still afraid?” Y/N asks. My heart is thrumming as I listen to her speak, soft and understanding. 

“I’m not so scared anymore, but I still don’t wanna do it by myself. I want Mr. Jacob to go all the time,” Lottie says, avoiding my eyes but still making me blush.

We round back to the stables and I help Lottie off her horse, watching as she scurries away back to her sisters. “I did it! I rided a horse!” I hear her squeal with excitement as she rejoins them, her wrapped arm flying into the air above her head. 

As I begin unsaddling, I feel Y/N at my side, her presence beginning to feel more and more familiar to me now. It’s as if just the energy she emotes is recognized by mine, meshing together in our own space in time. 

“Thank you, Mr. Jacob, I can’t explain how appreciative I am that you took the time to help her, she seems so much more at ease with you, I could never even get her to go near them,” she says, pushing her hat back on top of her head. 

I turn, adjusting my own brim to shield the sun, allowing me a more clear view of the face I’m falling more and more in love with as the minutes tick past. “The pleasure’s mine, Ma’am. I hope she wants to return, and learn more. I’ll give her my time as often as I can.”

The smile that ticks at the corners of her lips makes me forget how to breathe as her eyes search mine for something else, suddenly. She huffs an inhale, almost as if she is second-guessing her words. “I notice you have a way with people, Jacob, but even more so a way with children. And I believe that’s a trait that is very admirable in a man.”

I fight down a swallow, trying to stand firm as my knees want to buckle beneath me. “Thank you, Ma’am. I do enjoy watching the world from their perspective, seeing things so much larger and so much more unimportant than we do. Paying attention to only what’s in front of them, instead of what will come next. It’s refreshing, you know,” I respond, biting my lips in as my eyes scan her face. I watch as her eyelashes flick rapidly, likely experiencing the same shift in the air as I am. 

“Yes,” she whispers, clearing her throat. “I–I will see you next time?”

“I’ll be here waiting, Ma’am,” I reply, tipping my hat her way as she turns, giving me a double-take as I watch her drift back off toward the girls.

—

Several days pass with no sight of her, and I begin to wonder where she’s hiding. I’ve not seen the girls either, the property eerily quiet for this time of day. I check for them every night on my walk to supper, passing the main house on my way.  Tonight though, I walk with Elijah and do my best to not seem obvious as I look for any sign of the girls or Y/N. 

We can smell the food a good few minutes before we reach the Dining House, and I can feel my stomach start to  rumble with hunger. I haven't eaten since breakfast this morning, skipping lunch to finish polishing the leather saddles. My feet start to carry me faster as the smell of supper gets stronger, and Elijah matches my pace. 

“Eager for supper?” he asks, shooting me a grin. 

“Yessir, always.” I respond, pulling open the door to let him enter. 

We both enter the line, and as we make our way towards the serving table I see her. My brow furrows in confusion and Elijah must have noticed. 

“Ain’t usual for her to be in here,” he pauses, “Must be some good reason.”

I nod my head in agreement, but when I watch the smile on her face grow as she serves the food, I find a smile appearing on my own lips. 

A nervous flutter fills my belly as I step up to her, holding out my plate as she scoops the rice dish onto it. It’s not something I recognize, but it smells like heaven. 

“Hello Jacob,” she grins, sneaking me an extra half serving. Her eyelashes dust her pink cheeks as she suddenly seems bashful. 

“Hey there,” I answer with a smirk, “Wasn’t expecting to see you in here this evening.”

She nods as her tongue wets her lips, “No, no. You’re right, I convinced Harrell to let me try a new recipe tonight and it was only right that I serve it as well. Was hoping to get everyone's true opinion on it.”

Shock fills me as I look at her, “You made this?”

She nods a shy nod as she scoops the dish onto the next man's plate. “I did. I hope you like it.”

I want to answer her but before I can get the words out, I am at the end of the serving line and she’s moved on to the next person. I make my way towards the table Elijah selected for the night, setting down my plate as my mind reels about her cooking. 

“I’m just as surprised to see her as you are,” he smiles, taking a large bite of his food. “She is never in here with us.”

“Yeah, she just told me she made this meal and wanted to help serve it.”

“Well I’ll be sure to let her know what I think,” he says, as I take my first bite, and as I taste it, I know that if I wasn’t already in love with the woman, I sure would be now.

—

With my belly full of Y/N’s delicious meal, I feel myself starting to grow tired. Today was a long day, and one of the horses got ornery on me. I know that once I return to my quarters I will fall right into bed and sleep straight through ‘til morning. 

I feel an elbow nudge at my side, startling me from my tired daydreaming. I see that Y/N has joined me at the table, finally finished with her duties. 

“Well, did you enjoy it?” he asks, twiddling her thumbs together in her lap. 

“Best meal I’ve had since I’ve been here, swear it.”

She smiles at me through closed lips, her eyes twinkling in the dimness of the room. “Would you like to go somewhere with me?” she asks. 

“Me?”

“Yes you, I want to show you something.” she confirms, her eyes never leaving mine. 

I turn to look at Elijah, who is already looking at me with a grin. He raises his eyebrows and turns back to his conversation, silently telling me I should go. As I turn to look back at her I nod my head, “‘M all yours.”

—

The air has started to cool significantly since the sun went down, and I now find myself unrolling my sleeves as Y/N and I walk. I have yet to walk this path since I have been here, never finding myself on this side of the property. It’s quite beautiful, a long winding dirt path that is leading up towards the wooded area of the grounds. 

“Where exactly are you taking me?” I ask, flashing her a small curious smile. 

“Only the best place on the whole property. My favorite place in the world, I think,” she answers, pulling my arm as we take a right at the fork in the path. The moon is shining through the large oak trees, a silver blue cast landing on her face. Our arms are now intertwined, and I feel my heart start to beat a little harder at the contact. 

“We’re almost there now,” she continues, gripping my arm tightly as if I could fly away at any moment. 

A few minutes later we are approaching a beautiful pond, surrounded by Oak trees filled with low hanging spanish moss. The moon reflects onto the lake a perfect round circle in the rippling water. She leads me to a tree close to the bank of the pond, perching herself on a soft patch of grass. I sit down next to her, letting my legs stretch out and crossing them at the ankles. I lean back on my hands to match her position, feeling the soreness of my body from today's work. 

“This is a very beautiful place,” I say softly, breaking the silence.

“I’ve come here since I was a child,” she answers, her tone soft, matching mine. 

“Tell me about your family,” I say, turning to look at her as she fiddles with her braid. 

“I wish there was more to tell, but sadly there isn’t. They aren’t here anymore.”

I swallow harshly, “Mine either.”

Her eyes quickly dart to mine, “I’m so sorry, Jacob.”

“Do you think you will have a family one day?” I ask, changing the subject.

“I do, but I don’t believe it will be of my own choice,” she answers, causing me to furrow my brows. 

“Why’s that?” I ask, wondering what she could mean. 

“Well,” she pauses, looking towards the moonlit pond, “I believe that Mr. Drayton has plans for me.”

I feel my blood start to heat, “What sort of plans?”

She lets out a long, pained exhale. “I was to be married to Charles. Mister Drayton’s only son. He and I were courting when he was drafted for the war.” she pauses, swallowing hard. “He never came back, passed on in battle I was told. Mister Drayton was very angry for some time, though he allowed me to move to the property to be with the family. It’s how I came to care for the girls.”

“I see.” I breathe. I’d never heard of Charles in my time here, so this came as a surprise.

“One night, Mister Drayton was on a drunk. He wasn’t fairing well with Charles’ passing. He told me I was to give him the heir to his fortune, whether it be Charles or him, and with Charles gone, I knew what he was insinuating,” she pauses. “Thankfully he has never spoken of it again, and I do my best to avoid him in the home.”

“Y/N, that’s– He can’t do that. What about Mrs. Drayton?” I stumble.

“She can only bear girls, apparently. Though I don’t know how true that is,” she murmurs. “I believe that Charles and I– We could have–I did love him…”

“I am very sorry for your loss, Y/N,” I say, truly grieving for her and her situation. 

“Thank you, Jacob. Though much time has passed now, and I have finally begun to feel something again after all this time,” she says, turning to me and resting her head on her shoulder. “Thanks to you.”

I feel my cheeks heat with diffidence as I take in the beauty of her face and the authenticity of her words.  I reach for her small, soft hand, and bring it to my lips, pressing a delicate kiss to the top of her palm. “I as well, Miss Y/N.”

We sit there for a few still minutes, watching the turtles come to the top of the water. I feel content in her presence and I believe she feels content in mine. She is beautiful in the lighting, and I yearn to tell her so, but I think it inappropriate after all she has shared with me tonight. 

“It is getting rather late,” I say, looking to her. “I should get you back.”

“One of the other housemaids is tending to the children tonight. I was hoping for you and I to take this walk this evening,” she answers with a sweet smile. 

“I am very glad we did. Thank you for showin’ me this place. It’s very peaceful.”

“Could I walk with you back to your quarters?” she asks, taking my hand as I help her up from our grassy spot. 

“If you’d  like, though you do not have to,” I answer, hoping she will choose to join me. 

“I’d like that very much,” she says, as she grabs my chilled hand and begins to pull me back down the walking path. 

—

Far too quickly we reach my living quarters, the conversation between us flowing so naturally it’s as if she's waited for someone to connect with in this way. I hang on her every word, memorizing every facet of her face as she speaks so freely to me. It’s only when we reach my door that I remember how exhausted I truly am. 

“Would you… would you like to join me inside? It isn’t much to look at, but it is warmer there,” I say shyly.

A gentle smile parts her lips as she softly shakes her head, “No Jacob, I must get back to the main house. I don’t want to be caught by Mr. Drayton. He tends to wander the main floor at this hour.”

“I understand, you must go then,” I say, feeling a sharp pain ripple through my abdomen. 

“Are you alright?” Y/N asks startled, reaching for my arm. 

“Yes, yes,” I lie, “Just weary from the day's work. You go, and I will be seeing you, alright?”

“Thank you, Jacob,” she smiles, pulling her hand from my arm, and lifting her skirts to run towards the main house. 

I watch until I can no longer see her before stepping inside my quarters. Quickly I remove my shirt to see what has pained me, and what I find is something I was warned of. My burn scar is fiery red and angry. My first signs that my time here is beginning to tick away. 

Remembering Seraphine’s warning, I quickly find my bag of personal effects and reach for my book that is to be my guide to my next jump. I open it swiftly to the next page, and much to my dismay, ink has begun to spread across the page. “Damn it…” I mumble, feeling a rush of anxiousness run through me. The words are not yet visible, but I know that in a short amount of time they will, and my time here with Y/N will be done. 

—

Two Weeks Later

It’s been a fortnight since mine and Y/N’s first walk to the pond, and since that night, she’s joined me every evening since, pacing around and wasting our time together. We’ve been talking and getting to know one another, and I take my time in knowing that in this life, her personality feels so eerily different, yet her soul is just the same. I can’t help but notice that her body language has changed just a bit… almost as if she is becoming more and more comfortable with me as the days pass. I’ll never overstep the boundary, though my hands are aching to reach out and touch her. 

Tonight after our walk, Elijah has joined me in the stables for a nightcap. We can see our breath as it floats over the air, and even though I have been around the cold, I have never really had to live and work in it. 

“I’ll bring you a pair of my spare gloves tomorrow, got sheep’s wool on the insides. Keep your hands from blisterin’ in this temperature,” Elijah offers, noticing the dryness of my hands. 

“Appreciate that, friend,” I reply, rubbing them together. 

“Mmmhm,” he goes on, passing the whiskey bottle back to me. “Can’t have Ms. Y/N noticin’ your hands rough on her, now, can we?” he jests. 

“Elijah… Now…” I scold him as he laughs at me. 

“Gonna get in over your head, boy. Better watch yourself. Mr. Drayton may not show his face much, but he ain’t none to bother with. I can assure you of that,” he warns. “Don’t want you to be the one causin’ trouble in his paradise.”

I take another sip of the spirit and take a deep inhale, watching as the stars begin to debut themselves in the sky. “Trouble always finds me. I’m used to running from it. The hard part is deciding what kind of trouble to stick around for.”

He studies me as silence falls between us. “You love her?”

I dart my eyes to him. “I barely know her, Eli. How can I love someone I hardly know?” I hope that I am a better liar than I am a friend. Little does Elijah know, our friendship is destined to be short-lived, and his apparent judge of my character as of late is spot-on.

“‘Cause I see that look in your eyes whenever she’s ‘round. See your face shade, your hands jitter. I may be well past my prime, but I know a man in love when I see one.” He cackles again as he pushes my shoulder, taking another nip from the bottle.

I shake my head at him. “You’re drunk, Eli.”

“And what of it, kid?” he smiles. 

Just then, we’re interrupted by the ghost of an image running across the front doors of the stables, rushing past without even a pause. “What in God’s name was that?” he asks as we both stand to rush to the door. In the darkness, I catch sight of the billowing skirts of a woman’s dress rushing through the high grasses of the field. “Is that Ms. Y/N?!”

“It is,” I breathe, frozen in place as I watch her run for her life.

“Speak of the devil…” Elijah whispers, and within seconds, I am running behind her, following her across the grasses and into the field. I have to run at full speed to catch up to her, and it is only when I get close that I can hear that she is crying. 

“Y/N,” I yell after her. “Stop!”

She finally slows her pace as she hears me behind her, folding herself in half as she crouches down into the weeds and grasses. As I finally reach her, I hear her wailing… her face full of terror and tears as she tries to make herself calm. My heart falls. Something bad has happened. 

I kneel beside her and place my hand gently on her knee, her dress scuffed up and dirty from the muddy ground. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong? What’s going on?” I ask, desperate to help her. 

“Mr. Drayton… he–he’s drunk…” she cries. Her hair is falling from it’s usual perfect braid, messy and in her face as it sticks to her tear-soaked cheeks. Her voice is barely audible from her cries. “He finally tried to–to take his chance…”

“What chance, Y/N? What did he do?” I ask, pushing the hair from her face to get a better look at her.

All she does is look up at me, an emotion worse than fear written all over her. “Did he hurt you?” I ask. Her face falls as her hands grip onto me, using me to hold herself up. 

“He tried, but I broke free, I ran,” she says. “He almost… He nearly…”

I feel a rage billowing up inside me, one that I have never really felt before. And I realize in this very moment that I’d go to the end of the earth to find that man, and do whatever it took to make him feel the fear that is radiating from her, right now.

 “I’m gonna fuckin’ kill him,” I whisper.

“No, no you’re not, Jacob. You’ll do nothing of the sort,” she demands, her voice suddenly deep and commanding.

“Where are the girls?” I ask. “Are they safe?”

“Yes, yes,” she sobs. “They’re with their mother in Virginia.” I study her face as she tries to clean herself up, wiping her tears and fixing her hair as I still keep a firm grip on her shoulders. 

“Go back to my quarters. Run. Go inside, lock it behind you.  I’ll be right there,” I say. Her eyes peer up to me, and I swear that I see the entire universe in them, just like I did that day at the dock. 

“Alright,” she whispers, and to my surprise, she doesn’t argue. She wants to go. I help her get to her feet and I lead us out of the grasses, sending her off quickly toward my quarters. I rush back to the stables to find Elijah trying to busy himself, probably confused as he watched us in the field from afar. 

“Saw her head back your way, son. Why’d you come back here?” he laughs. 

“This isn’t a time for laughter, Eli,” I say as I finish up the duties I had half-ignored earlier. The whiskey is long gone from my system after that rush of nerves. 

“Oh,” he says, now full of concern. “Is… is she alright?”

I don’t answer, instead I give him a look that I know he will recognize. He takes my glare as it is, nodding in understanding. “I’ll take care of the rest of this, son. Go on. Go to her.”

Within minutes I am back to the line of small, run-down buildings under the iron oaks, rushing through the drying mud to get to my own. I step up on the singular wooden step, seeing that she has lit a candle inside. “It’s me,” I say quietly as I knock on the door. I hear her rustle inside before the lock is being undone and the door is slowly swinging open. She’s wrapped in my blanket, slowly pacing around the place as her eyes stay trained on the floor. 

I turn and lock the door again behind me. I’d long since let the fire burn out, so I take my time in relighting it, adding my breath to the few still-burning embers to create a flame. I throw four or five logs on and make sure they catch before turning my attention. She’s still pacing behind me, and I wrack my mind trying to think of what to do, what to say. What do I even say?

After the fire is lit, I feel it beginning to warm the air around us quickly. I take a seat on my bed, watching as her back repeatedly turns to and from me. Her anxiety is making me nervous. 

“Y/N,” I finally whisper. “Come here, come sit.” I put my hand to the bed beside me, knowing that if I am going to even begin to comfort her tonight, I first need her to relax just a bit. Easier said than done, I already know. 

She pauses a second, her thumbnail between her two front teeth. Finally she comes and sits beside me, letting out a shaky breath I know she has been holding since she got here. I know she is terrified, I know her mind is on another plane, entirely. Slowly, I feel her head crane sideways to rest on my shoulder, and her breathing even out just a bit. I bring my arm around her back and shoulders, pulling her in just a bit to let her know that she can relax. “It’s alright, you’re safe here. I’m not goin’ to let anything else happen to you.”

I hear her sniffle through a cry, but this one sounds different than her ones in the field. This one sounds as if she has let her demons fall away, letting the light of clarity overtake her. “You can stay here as long as you like,” I offer. I feel her head nod on my shoulder. 

Then, like all of the stars align, her arm wraps up and around me, and I feel her face bury against my neck. I shudder at it, my skin burning as I feel her breath lay hot against me. 

“Thank you, Jacob,” she whispers, pressing her lips to the skin right below my ear. I know she can hear my heartbeat, there is no way that she can’t. My body is swirling with a fondness that I’ve found only in her, a warmth that only she can bring to my chest.

We stay this way for a few minutes as I feel her body start to soften against mine, and her fear begin to slowly subside. I know that soon, we will have to move from this position, especially if I want to continue to be the gentleman that I am. 

“You can have the bed, I will take the floor,” I suggest, moving from my seat. 

“No–” she says quickly. “No… I–Don’t be ridiculous. It’s too cold, you’ll freeze to death on the floor.”

I stand and meet her eyes, glowing just like the embers in my fireplace. “Then where do you suggest I sleep, Ma’am?”

Her face flushes as she brings her lips into her mouth, wetting them slightly before she speaks. “By me, of course. For warmth…”

All the air leaves my lungs, and I’m positive I couldn’t form a coherent word, if I tried. “Warmth…” I repeat.

She nods. “Would be a shame for either of us to… freeze…” I swallow down my emotions as she stands from her seat, letting the blanket she’s wrapped in fall back to the bed behind her. Her hands crawl to the center of her robes that are tied at the front of her chest. She pulls the tie, letting her heavy cloak fall to the floor, as well. She’s standing before me in much less clothing than I thought I’d see her in, tonight, but the last thing I’m going to do is argue it. She steps closer to me, and I can feel my nerves begin to bubble up inside me again. She turns slowly, pulling her hair to the side. “Help with my corset?” she asks, peering over her shoulder. 

My fingers tremble in rhythm with the pounding of my heart in my chest as I think about her inquiry. I can’t deny her, who would I be to not help her? With shaking hands I take the ends of the light blue ribbon between my fingers, giving it a light tug to free the bow and knot. It’s funny, knowing in the back of my mind that I have already done this once before, that day on the dock. In another life, in another time, completely…

I loosen the ribbon and gently pull it, watching as she is able to take a full, deep breath after being freed of her confines. She lets the corset fall and she kicks it away, slowly turning to face me. I know the look on my face is surprising to say the least, but the way that the firelight ignites her features makes me fall for her all over again. So ethereally beautiful, so tempting in an uncountable amount of ways.

She shivers harshly as the warmth from the fire hits her skin. “Would you like my… coat…?” I ask her, realizing the question is stupid as soon as I say it.

She laughs through her nose, shaking her head side to side. Her hands climb up to undo the buttons of my coat, slowly pulling them free one by one. My heart is in my throat, and I hope that she doesn’t notice my growing anxiousness. Her hands are barely touching me, and I can already hear my own breath becoming ragged. She pulls the jacket from my shoulders and I toss it to the side, my eyes never once leaving her face. Her fingertips slip underneath the straps of my suspenders, pulling them down to my sides one at a time. She’s moving so slowly that I could scream, but at the same time, there’s nothing I would want to last longer.

Next she begins to unfasten the buttons of my shirt, slowly still as she uses care to undo them. I feel a chill rush through my body at the touch of her hands on my barren skin, mixing in with my growing need for her to touch me more. “See, you’re cold, Jacob,” she says quietly. 

“Your hands are like ice,” I mutter, my words sounding like mush in my mouth.

“Not for long,” she reassures me, pulling my arms free from the sleeves of my shirt. I watch as her expression changes, seeing me without any covering for the second time. She pulls the chain that hangs around my neck, straightening it so that the silver charm is settled in the center of my chest. “Where did you get this?”

“My brother made it for me,” I choke out, the memory of Joshua’s face racing through my mind for a split second. 

“It’s beautiful,” she says, still running her hands along the chain, her fingertips barely dusting across my skin.

“Are you sure you do not want the bed, Y/N,” I ask rhetorically, trying to break free from the mesmerizing feeling of her touch. 

She nods. “I’m sure. I want you… with me.”

“You do?” I ask, again. 

“Yes,” she breathes, releasing the chain. She brings her face close to mine, her the tip of her pointer finger resting on the underside of my chin. “I have for weeks…” She pushes me backward, and I try my best to not stumble as I kick my boots off, leaving them laid across the floor. 

She crawls backward into the bed, slitting her legs under the covers as she leaves them half-pulled back for me.  I grab the blanket she had let fall behind her to cover us, as well, and against every nerve ending in my body telling me not to, I slide in beside her. I feel her shiver as the heat from our bodies meets, warm and welcoming as we rely on each other for it. She presses into my side as she shudders through it again. “Are you okay?” I ask, pulling my arm around her. 

“I am now,” she breathes. 

Her head comes to lay beside mine on my singular pillow, and I turn my face to meet hers. I can tell the both of us are having trouble steadying our breaths, and I can feel my hands burning to reach out and touch her. Like she can hear my thoughts, her hand reaches up to rest on my chest, her skin a bit warmer than it was before. 

“Your heart, Jacob. It’s pounding,” she says. I swallow it down, suddenly feeling confident. 

“Of course it is, I’m lying beside you,” I say, watching as her eyes scan my face. The glimmer of the fire reflects in them, only making them harder to look away from.  “You’re– I’m enamored by you.”

“But, I’m nothing but a nurserymaid,” she answers, smiling just a little. 

I shake my head, letting my hand land on her cheek as I whisper, “No, you’re more than just that. You’re the most desirable being that I’ve ever encountered.”

I hear her inhale as her lips press quickly to mine, light and feathery at first as she lets them linger for only a second, before pulling away. She studies me again, and when she finds that I’m not denying her, she leans in again, this time with a bit more conviction. My hand that was resting on her cheek now cups her jaw as I kiss her back, my entire body burning with a heat that the fire beside me must envy. Her lips are softer than any flower petal I’ve ever held, and her touch is more edacious than any hold I’ve ever felt. I let myself become blind in the moment, realizing that every passing second with her is not promised for long. 

I can taste her already. Sweet and just a little bit spicy as I take the initiative, letting my tongue begin to explore a little further. I hear the quietest whimper fall from her lips, and a surge of desire floods me. My muscles begin to become rigid in my body, and I give in to the temptation, removing my hand from her cheek to the back of her head, gently pulling a handful of her hair into a loose fist. Then I let it travel from there to her shoulder, then down her arm, then to balance on her waist. I feel her hips move into me as her lips part further than they have yet, urging me on as I feel her body pressed up against me. 

I watch through hooded lids as her hands drift up to unbutton the top half of her gowns, revealing herself completely to me. I pull away for a second, and I feel my eyes bulge as I hiss through my teeth. Her tits sit so perfectly, and she’s displaying herself to me on a silver platter. My body tenses with want again as I feel myself growing harder for her. Her hands move from her buttons to tangle ferociously in my hair, pulling and entwining her fingers as I hungrily dive in for her again. This time the sound that falls from her lips is audible, and I can hardly contain myself as I let a pitiful moan fall, myself. 

“Fuck… You’re…” I manage to say as I roll myself to lean up on my elbow, and my knee slots between her legs. Her hand pulls on my arm to bring me in closer, and her hips grind down onto my leg.  My hand harshly grips onto her hip as I help her in her motions and pull her down on me, wanting to feel her just as badly as she probably feels me.

For a split second I find clarity, thinking back on the situation with Mr. Drayton that got her here, in the first place. I pray that she doesn’t feel uncomfortable, or for some reason that we must do this in order for her to stay with me. I pull away quickly, my hand still resting on her hip, my thumb dangerously close to her heat beneath her dressings. “Are you sure you want to be here? After everything tonight–”

“I don’t want to step foot into that house ever again,” she cuts me off. We stare at one another and I realize that we’re both out of breath, panting and heavy in the throes of our want for each other. Like she really wants to drive her positivity home, she takes my hand from her waist, pressing it to her barren breast. I pause before I let my hand grip on to her, and the feeling is unlike anything I’ve felt in a long, long while. 

I decide to give in to her want for pleasure, and I begin massaging, my hand paying a special bit of attention to her more sensitive places. I grip her nipple between my fingers and kiss her harder, her body falling harshly onto my leg again as she searches for some type of relief. “God, Jacob...” Her motions are driving me wild, and I beg the heavens above to show mercy on me and my impure actions. I’ve never been a religious man, and it seems in this life, neither is she, but when your mind is stuck in the purgatory between manners and a lust heavier than anything you’ve ever felt, you begin to wonder if you need to apologize to someone for it. 

Thankfully, my life is now a permanent purgatory, and deciding whether I go to Heaven or Hell isn’t up to me, anymore. 

“Touch me, Jacob,” she breathes, and I swear that even if God’s army was fighting against me, I still wouldn’t be able to tell her no. 

I pull the blankets even higher around us, and the fire beside us cracks, sending sparks up into the air. Quickly, my hand manages to creep under her garments and between her thighs now thick with the heat we’ve created. My mind swishes with desire as my hand searches, taking my time to caress her, feel her, tease her…

Finally I find where I was looking for and I slip my hand beneath her underwear, quickly sending my middle finger between her folds. God, the sound that comes from her is enough to make me want to come undone, in itself. She’s dripping with wetness, covering my finger like sun warmed honey. I want to taste her, I want to feast on her and have her calling my name over and over, but I know that will have to wait for another time. 

Her hands are still gripped tightly in my hair as I watch her expressions turn up into the most beautiful pleasure, spurring me on to work her through every single bit of lustfulness she’s felt for me. I hear her voice bellow out with a shudder of her stomach, and I know I’ve found her sweet spot. “Yes?” I ask her. 

She nods quickly, “Yes,” she breathes, biting onto my lips as I continue rubbing circles onto her. “Yes, please, please…” she cries, panting through her words. She’s so deliciously desirable as she lets herself be vulnerable with me, and I fear that my emotions and want for her will never be satiated. Ever. In this lifetime, or any other. And I haven’t even made love with her, yet. 

I let my finger slowly enter her, and I begin pumping it inside her, watching as her jaw falls completely slacked. “Jacob…” she cries, my name in two syllables. 

“M’right here, my love… right here…” I coax her, feeling no resentment in using that word with her, right now. My finger is buried deep inside her, and I feel her walls squeezing tightly around it. Our bodies are burning together, and I swear that I have never heard anything as sweet as my name on her lips. Her fingernails are digging into my skin as her hips begin to grind on my hand, viscous and ragged and messy as she searches for her peak. “Kiss me, Y/N,” I beg, “I want you to let go, and I want you to kiss me through it…” 

Her lips crash onto mine again, this time with a want so furious I contemplate begging God to just let me go to Hell, if this is what I get to experience, there. Her tongue buries itself in my mouth as she licks up all of me that she can, knowing that the taste of me will be her downfall, too. She begins whimpering into my mouth, quietly at first before it builds and builds, echoing off the walls like a song sung by the archangels. I feel her whole body tighten as it hits her, pitiful and writhing as I feel her on my hand. My strands are pulled taut in her hands as she cries through the comedown, her lips still pressed forcefully to mine as she shakes.

Finally her body relaxes and my hair loosens in her grip, and I watch as her eyes peep open and see my face for the first time after experiencing her own version of a miracle. The way her gaze bounces back and forth from each of my eyes, I briefly wonder if she is deciding whether or not she’s made a mistake, but as her hands grip my face and she kisses me again, I know that my suspicion was unwarranted. 

I remove my hand from her undergarments and lift her body, twisting her so that her back is to me, now. I cuddle myself into her hair, breathing in her scent and committing this version of her into the very depths of a memory that I won’t get to keep. My first time making her come for me, an experience that I never thought I would get to have in my other life. Neither of us say a word for a very long while as I make myself comfortable against her under the warmth of the covers. 

“I was going to run away,” I hear her voice cut through the quiet of the night, startling me from what was near-sleep.

“What?” I ask.

“I was going to run from this place, from Mr. Drayton,” she says. “Start my own life my own way, do things on my own accord. But now, now I think I feel a little differently.” She turns her body to face me as I stay silent and wait for her explanation. “I’ve developed feelings for you, Jacob, feelings that I wasn’t sure I would ever have again. Not since losing Charles in the War…” 

“No,” I interrupt her. “You can’t stay here, if you’d already had your mind set. Especially after what he could have done to you tonight… You should go. You should go as soon as you can.” Even though my love for her has grown tenfold in the past hour, there is nothing more I want for her than her own happiness, and if that happiness doesn’t include me, then so be it. 

“What about you?” she asks. 

I stop and think for a second, realizing that the only thing tying me here, is her. “I’ll go with you.”

“Really?!” she beams. “You’re not joking, Jacob?”

I shake my head, a smirk finding my lips. “I’m not joking, Y/N.”

“How? What will we do?” she asks. 

I roll to my back, staring at the wood-slat ceiling above us and letting my mind fly away to a reality only I can create. 

“I’ve got a plan.”

—

Seven days have passed. Seven days of repeating the plan to each other over and over in the quiet of the night. I feel certain that she can do this, and I hope I have instilled in her the confidence she needs to carry out this plan. Elijah knows what to do, and I have spent the last week preparing him to take over my role. The nights have been long but I know they will be worth it. 

Today she will run. She will take the last steam boat set to depart at half past four, and I will join her when Elijah gives me the word that it is safe for me to join her. My things are packed and ready, and Elijah has given me an advance in my payment to last me for the next few weeks. Called it his parting gift for teaching him my ways. 

The day seems to drag on, and I check my pocketwatch far too often. Time seems to be moving in slow motion as I count down the hours until we run. When the clock hits four I feel the nerves start to settle in my stomach, and my mind begins to run through worst case scenarios. I fear Mr. Drayton will see her attempting to leave and trap her. 

My burn has begun to pain me daily, the ink in the book becoming more and more legible. I quickly make my way to my quarters and grab my belongings, closing the door behind me for the last time. I return to the stables and find that Elijah seems to be just as nervous as I am, his knee bouncing up and down as he watches the tour guests make their way back to the steam boat. 

“It is almost time my brother,” he says in a low voice. 

“Have you caught sight of her yet?” I ask, biding my farewell to the horses I have grown rather fond of.

“Not yet, but soon I reckon,” he answers with a tip of his chin. 

I reach into my pocket, double checking that I have her ribbon. I am doing this for her, and I cannot leave this time without a reminder of her. A light blue ribbon to add to my book. A place marker to be sure I remember her in every life. 

“I want to thank you, Elijah,” I pause, “I couldn’t have done all of this without you.”

“It has been my pleasure, and I wish you a prosperous life in the future, wherever that may be.”

I smile at him, little does he know just how fitting his words are to my situation. 

“She’s there,” he says, “She is at the dock. I see her.”

I feel my body begin to tremble at his words. She's done it. 

“It’s your time now, friend,” Elijah says, standing and extending his hand to me. I shake it in thanks, the both of us saying everything we need to say, wordlessly. 

I grab my bag and tip my hat to him as I slip out the side of the stable house and begin to make my way to the ferry. I keep my head low and try to blend in with the folks around me. They are dressed way finer than I am, and I hope that doesn’t make me stick out to others. 

My breathing grows heavy as I make my way down the dock, knowing that I should be able to find Y/N at the very back of the boat, just as we planned. The moment I step onto the boat I feel home free, though I know that is not the case just yet. 

I make my way through the small crowd of people, offering thanks as they let me pass, and as I reach the very back I find her, sitting on a small wooden bench with a suitcase in her hands. Her head is down, just like I told her, but I could recognize the gleam of the sun on her hair, anywhere. 

“Y/N,” I breathe, taking a seat next to her. “We made it.” 

She turns to look at me with eyes full of hope, and slowly a smile spreads across her face. I brush my lips against her cheek as I kiss her, her hand reaching for mine. 

“Everything is going to be okay, I made sure that no one followed us. We should depart soon.”

“Thank you, Jacob. Thank you,” she urges, squeezing my hand tightly in hers. 

I feel the boat begin to pull away from the dock and the relief rolls off of me in waves. No one is going to stop us. We are finally free. 

“The girls,” I breathe, suddenly remembering the reason I was able to speak with her in the first place.

“I wrote them. Each of them. Left the letters under their pillows for them to find. I will miss them terribly but I know I have taught them well.”

“I know you have. They were lucky to have you,” I confirm. 

“They were going to be my little sisters, I’m happy I was able to be that for them for as long as we had…” she says, pursing her lips. 

About halfway to the city I turn to look at her. The hope she feels is contagious, though she doesn’t know of my plans. I wish I could stay with her.  I hardly slept last night as I tossed and turned with anxiety over it. Every day my burn scar hurts worse, andI know that at any moment I will leave this time and find myself in the next. I know this will hurt her deeply, so I say nothing of it. I know she will be safe now, and she didn’t notice as I slipped the small bag of money into her suitcase. I won’t need it, but she will. 

Her body has grown more and more relaxed over the last several minutes, and as I turn to look at her, I see she has fallen asleep on the sidewall of the boat. I know it’s time. I know what I must do. I have saved her from Mr. Drayton and a life that she was running from. I loved her the best way I knew how in this life, and now it is time for me to move on to the next and do the same, whatever that may be. 

With one final kiss to her cheek, I grab my bag and move away from her, remembering her only by the blue ribbon in my pocket. “Don’t miss me, Y/N… I will see you again soon.” It  is the hardest thing to do, walking away from her, but I know I must go.

I find myself in a small corridor on the interior of the boat, lined with doors and the engine room. I slip into one of the rooms, a storage closet of sorts and I know this place will work for what I must accomplish. Shutting the door behind me I take a deep breath, telling myself I will remember this life and this version of my love. I will always remember her.

I pull my book from my bag and retrieve the blue ribbon from my pocket, tucking it into the page that reads ‘Charleston’. I couldn’t bring myself to turn to the next page. I’m not ready to see where I will land, but now, I have no choice. I pull the small mirror from my bag and open it, looking at myself in the reflection for the first time in several weeks. I look gruff and could use a serious shave, but I look happy. I look determined. I swallow deeply as I turn to the next page in the book, the ink dark and clear as day now. My hands tremble as I recall the words Seraphine recited to me, and prepare myself to start all over again, in a different time. 

“Echoed glass, reveal the way, through the veil of night or day. Turn the key, unlock the door, let me walk through time once more.”

The feeling of euphoria takes over me as the words do what they were intended to do. A curse bestowed upon me, to chase my love forever through space and time. I think of my love and how I will find her in the next place. I feel the small space begin to swirl around me, my vision beginning to fade in and out as I start my jump to another world. Forcing my eyes to focus, I finally read the words on the page in front of me, and pray that Y/N will love me in this new time and place, just as she has in the past. 

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[elliebyrrdwrites]

Nott Manor looked like something that was built based on a Victorian Era Gothic novel. In fact, it was built during the Victorian Era after demolishing the old home that was wrought with decay and dark magic. The home sat on nearly 35 acres that had been passed through the male lineage and was located right in the middle of Derbyshire, surrounded by thick woods.

The home was all slate gray stone and bricks built into a three story manor that donned pointed rooftops and cylinder shaped columns on either side. The home had been there so long that the earth wanted to gobble it up. Ivy was growing alongside the front of the house and along the edges, almost all the way up to the second story. Age and weather darkened the shingles and along the edges, appearing to be a rather sad little home, even in the middle of a bright and sunny afternoon.

Overall, the home looked quaint, even for a manor that had passed through generations of Notts. But these lands were heavily guarded by dark magic and impenetrable wards. Not even the ministry bothered Theo. They knew what he did for a living, often hiring him themselves. But the history of the Nott family and the danger of entering into their land without Nott’s permission was too dangerous.

And beneath the home was the most wicked slice of property.

It was accessible through the woods that hugged the southside of the property. A cellar door was built into the middle of the woods and inside of this door, were stairs that led them deep underground. The cellars were stone and frigid cold. Moisture dripped from the walls, as if the land itself wept for anyone unfortunate enough to be placed within.

The cellar went deep and consisted of a very large, open room that held several small cells barred off. But each cell allowed a view into the middle of the room where a large, stone slab dais sat. A table for working on prisoners, adorned with leather straps bolted into the rock.

Currently, Cormac McLaggen was huddled into the cell furthest in, huddled against the stone walls and Draco could barely recognize the man. One of his eyes was so badly beaten that it was swollen shut and the skin was tight and black with blood that was trapped beneath the surface. He had a broken nose that appeared to be healed several times before it was beaten again and again. His golden brown hair was tainted red and his clothes were dirty and also covered in blood.

Theo went to town on him, apparently having a field day with him before allowing Draco to have his turn.

The sound of Draco and Theo’s shoes clipping against stone and dirt caused McLaggen to jerk his head up in fear and his back to press further into the corner.

His one good eye was following their every step as they stepped into view.

With his hands in his pockets, Draco tilted his head to appraise the man who fooled the world into believing that he was decent. Into making everyone believe he had coveted Granger only to willingly hand her over to a psychopathy.

The memory of the way Cormac’s hand had gripped on Hermione’s. The way he had tried to lure her with lust in his eyes and evil in his heart...it was enough to make Draco want to kill him now.

And, he could.

He could kill him quickly, with a curse. He could take his time, dismembering him as he cried out for help. He could do it anyway he chose, because nobody would ever know.

Nobody would ever find him. He’d shrink each limb down into little bite sized pieces and then toss them into the fireplace that Theo’s ancestors installed into this room for that very reason.

But, he had to stay focused. He needed Cormac to talk.

“McLaggen,” Draco drawled as he stepped up to the bars. “Enjoying your stay at Nott Manor?” Cormac said nothing, only gulped and lifted his chin in defiance. “You should feel lucky.” Draco gripped onto a bar and slid his hand up, looking around at the tiny cell. “Not many people get invited inside.”

Theo chuckled, shaking his head as he leaned his hip against the raised, stone slab in the middle of the room. Along the wall opposite of the cells were tools meant to cut, cut and inflict the most amount of pain onto the human body. There was no need a wand here, in order to make a man speak. Draco didn’t need the magic that thrummed inside of him as he watched the man cower away as Draco moved to the cell door. Because this man had willingly pursued a woman he never intended on dating. He only had ill intentions and Draco found it hard to feel any remorse for what was about to happen to him as Theo flicked his wrist and allowed the door to spring open.

Cormac pushed himself further into the wall, uselessly kicking his bare feet against the dirty floor. They slid and slid and he went nowhere.

Nowhere, at all as Draco slowly stepped inside of the cell and pinned his cold dead stare onto him.

It was easy to slide back into this colder version of himself. It was where he had to live most of his life, particularly in public. And it wasn’t until his father was arrested and put on trial did Draco allow himself to reach the tips of his finger out for a bit of something good and warm.

It was what allowed him to kiss Granger that day outside of the courtroom.

But remembering the way she had hugged him before he kissed her? The way she had responded to him when he did? It was what allowed him to slip into this terrible person he had dreaded becoming again. Because he would do it if it meant she would remain safe. He would do it if it got him the answers he needed to make sure she stays alive.

“You have been a very naughty wizard, haven’t you, Cormac?”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk.” Theo clicked his tongue against his front teeth and wagged his finger at the man, illiciting more fear to grow in his eyes.

Crouching down in front of him, Draco rested his elbows on his knees and peered at him. Cold, murderous eyes met wide, frightened ones and for a moment, Draco said nothing. He simply allowed the fear and anxiety to build and build as he waited for whatever may come.

When Draco inhaled, McLaggen winced. Draco smirked as he spoke. “I’m going to give you one shot, Cormac.” He held up a finger. “Just one.” His eyes refused to release Cormac’s. “To tell me everything I want to know. When you, inevitablly, fail to give me what I want, I will have to force it out of you.”

Theo started to bounce on his heels, Draco could feel the anticipation in his friend from here.

“And there is no need for Veritaserum, here.” Draco waved a hand over his shoulder, gesturing to the wall of tools meant for today’s session. “Because you will, eventually, talk. You will tell me everything I want to know or I wont hand you over to the DMLE. I will not take pity on you. You will remain her, enduring anything Theo wishes to inflict upon you, every day.” He paused and allowed his eyes to roam Cormac’s face, reading the fear and disbelief hidden in his eyes before he finished. “Until your body gives out and your mind has checked out.” He stood and slid his hand back into his pocket. “And then you will die here. Alone.”

He spun on his heels and jerked his head at Theo. “Shall we get started?”

Theo wiggled his eyebrows before rushing past Draco and into the cell.

Cormac started to kick and scream. “No, no. Malfoy!” He was clawing at the floor and the wall as Theo grabbed a foot and began to drag him across the cell floor and toward the stone slab.

Draco turned around to observe the archaic and primitive devices of torture when the sound of bone snapping echoed in the room before Cormac’s howl erupted.

Spinning around, Draco lifted a brow as Theo let go of the man’s foot. It was twisted at an unnatural angle and was already turning black and blue. It was broken, twisted and snapped at the ankle. Draco sighed and lifted something off of the wall.

“Really, Theo?”

Theo rolled his eyes and shrugged before pulling his wand from the holster on his chest and aimed it at the man. Cormac’s body levitated into the air before it landed, clumsily, onto the stone slab. The straps quickly cinched over his ankles and his wrists before they tightened and pinned Cormac’s body to the rock.

“I really felt like he needed a reminder as to who, exactly, we are.”

“You’re fucking Death Eaters!” McLaggen lifted his head and snarled before he descended into a groan of pain as his broken ankle strained against the binds holding him down.

“Actually,” Draco slid the device up to Cormac’s hand and shoved his fingers in. A large metal screwed was attached to two slabs of metal. Once one was to start twisting the screw, the top slab would lower and lower until the fingertips were crushed and rendered useless. “I was the Death Eater.” Draco sniffed and began to twist the screw, watching with intrigue, as the top metal plate began to lower. “Of course, I didn’t want to be one, mind you. But, if you’re going to go around throwing accusations, you may as well get your facts straight.” He huffed when the plate finally met the pads of his fingers. “But, you know, we are not the ones in question here, McLaggen.” He twisted and twisted and Cormac began to growl in pain. His one good eye squeezed shut as his groans turned into screams.

“Yes.” Theo hummed and tilted his head, watching the fingers turn red and then blue as the bones began to break beneath the pressure. “What are you, McLaggen? What kind of prosecutor gives his date a glass of poisoned champagne?”

Draco’s lips pulled back as he bared his teeth, twisting and twisting the screw until skin began to break.

“I didn’t know it was poisoned!”

“Liar!” Draco stepped back and shoved his hair away from his forehead. “I saw Moore help you escape. You have been hounding Granger, practically begging her for a date.”

“Because I fancy her!” Cormac cried. “I’ve fancied her since school, you idiot!”

“Then why did you poison her?” Theo asked, calmly as Draco moved and grabbed a poker off of the wall. With his wand, he lit a fire and held it up to the tip of the prongs.

“I didn’t know it was meant to harm her.” He was panting through the pain, his eye wildly searching for Draco. “It was only supposed to knock her out.”

“Why?” Draco’s eyes glanced from the poker, to Cormac.

“Because I wanted to take her home with me. Moore told me that he would help me win her over.”

Draco snarled and stabbed him in the shoulder with the poker. “Win her over? How on earth would knocking her out win her over? What the hell did you plan on doing with her once you got her home, McLaggen?”

Theo rested his elbow onto Cormac’s chest and tucked his hand under his chin as he grinned down at him. “I think you should take his good eye, Dray.”

“His eye?” Draco frowned and pulled the poker out of his shoulder and held it up so that Cormac could see it. “With this?”

“Yes, he doesn’t need it to speak.” He batted his eyes down at Cormac. “Do you?”

Cormac was panting, gasping for air, his eye rolling around in pain. But he balked at Theo’s voice close to his face. “I wanted to fuck her!” He admitted, causing Theo to suck through his teeth and shake his head.

The heat of anger dissipated, and Draco was struck anew with that frigid cold. it was like death, seeping out from his pores. Death he could deliver to anyone he deemed worthy of it.

“You knew she didn’t want you.” His voice was just as cold. Just as dead.

“You or Weasley don’t deserve her!” Cormac’s angry was suddenly bursting out of him. “Weasley is a useless idiot and you!” He laughed. “You are nothing but the worst kind of trash.”

“And you?” Theo continued to dig his elbow into Cormac’s chest. “You, the mighty prosecutor with big dreams to turn politician? What was your end game? To force Granger into being your wife so that you could run for minister and have all of the support she fought for to be bestowed onto you?”

Draco could see Cormac’s death, now. It would be so fucking easy. And it would feel good. He didn’t want to use the poker. He didn’t want to use a knife or even a wand. He wanted to use his hands.

“She would have made the perfect trophy wife.” Cormac sneered up at Theo.

But Theo was smiling, serenely. As if Cormac had said exactly what he hoped he would have said. Unbeknownst to him or even Draco, tucked into Theo’s right hand which was resting on the slab just beside Cormac’s right side, was a knife meant for gutting game.

Cormac grunted as the blade jabbed into his side, right between two ribs, while Theo kept his eyes trained on his and watched the man grow pale as the knife twisted.

Theo was taking over for Draco because he had to. Draco was going to kill Cormac. And then they would never get the information they needed. And then his soul would be tainted in a way he had worked to avoid for years and years.

Because, he wanted to save his soul to match Hermione’s. The idea reminded him that she was at home, waiting for him. She knew he could be a bad man and she wanted him anyway.

Draco dropped the heavy, iron poker and watched Cormac flinch as it clattered against the stone. “Tell me about Moore.“

[do-androids-dream-ao3acc]

Crimson Renegade (aka The Wild West AU)

Chapter 1: Ghost Town (Chapter 2) (Chapter 3) (Chapter 4) (Chapter 5) (Chapter 6) (Chapter 7)

Buck/Tommy. Wild West AU (sort of) / Character Study / Post-Break Up / Alternate Universe - Western / POV Evan "Buck" Buckley / Bandits & Outlaws / Time Travel / Alternate Universe - Time Travel / Time Shenanigans / Crack. [AO3 version]

The town seemed deserted.

There was a hint of a Western movie’s backdrop to it, the ingredients were definitely present: a handful of buildings clad with wooden shingles, some of which bore signs that appeared hand-painted, overlooked a dusty gravel road hardly worth the name. There was no way to tell where it began or ended, and maybe those were actually hoof prints in the dirt. Nothing stirred on the dusty road, not even a tumbleweed, and it was eerily silent. The area, the whole environment suggested an impending duel, if it had not been strangely peaceful at the same time, almost uncanny.

Buck was gripped by a vague feeling of having forgotten something, like why he went here in the first place. He shook his head, causing the band on his hat to wobble under his chin. Band? Hat? Squinting against the sun flashing from behind a massive mountain range on the horizon, he carefully reached up to his head. Sure enough, there was a hat – when he took it off, he looked in amazement at a genuine, sand-brown Stetson. Staring down on it, he noticed that the rest of his clothes matched the hat: sturdy boots with embroidery that had seen better days, a pair of jeans that he normally wouldn't be caught dead in and a red plaid shirt, the collar of which disappeared under a complementary red neckerchief.

I look like a cowboy. A Wild West hero, or whatever, he thought, more amused than confused.

A pretty costume for Halloween, but hadn’t that been a few months ago? The thing was, Buck didn't even remember why he was standing on a dusty road in this deserted place, let alone why he was wearing that outfit. Kicking up pebbles on the ground with the tip of his boot, he thought that this could hardly be a dream: a light breeze whispered around his cheeks, and the ground under his feet felt solid. The hat in his hands was worn, his fingers felt the texture; this was not something one experienced in a dream. Buck looked down the road. The buildings seemed to form a kind of main shopping street, surrounded by a settlement of only a few houses, including some barns and fields in the distance. It was a small, impossibly quiet town that seemed to have fallen out of time. 

Maybe it was one of those open-air museums. It wouldn’t quite explain why he was dressed like this, but… Buck had been absentminded since Tommy had left him, not quite himself, and baking helped only so much. He kept misplacing stuff, was more distracted than usual, and had to pull himself together at work to avoid making mistakes. Maybe he’d just decided to take a trip, maybe some guided tour, to let his thoughts revolve around something other than his disastrous love life for a day.

Buck sighed, straightened the unfamiliar hat on his head and contemplated the signs on the buildings. Since he was already here, he should maybe just make the most out of it. There must have been a reason why, at some point he didn’t even recall, he’d chosen this place. One of the signs read Saloon, and Buck’s mood brightened. Surely he had only lost his bearings for a moment, had lost sight of the group of visitors he’d joined, who were certainly listening to a lecture from some Wild West expert inside right now. With quick steps, he covered the short distance and entered the saloon. 

Outside the door, there had been a strange scent, a bit like stale meat, but in here it just smelled of dust. The saloon was surprisingly dim, and surprisingly empty. Sunlight fell through a single, rather small window into a room that Buck found quite authentic – at least considering movies like Rio Bravo. The floor, made of rough wooden planks, was strewn with sawdust, yet the chairs had been placed on the tables with their seats facing downwards, as if the business had not yet started. At the end of the room, a few bar stools were placed in front of a dusty bar, behind which he heard a clattering sound. Buck stood undecidedly in the entrance, calling a tentative “Hello?” in that direction. 

The noise stopped abruptly. Then, very slowly, a figure that had apparently been kneeling behind the counter emerged – although the first thing Buck saw was the barrel of a gun. It was held by a guy whose facial features were barely recognizable in the semi-darkness, but his cowboy hat, cotton bib shirt with suspenders, and faded corduroy pants blended in with the surroundings.  

“Whoa,” Buck said, giving a placating smile, “I h-hope I didn't burst into the middle of a Western show? I'm s-sorry about that, but obviously nobody is here yet, and...”

The other man let Buck’s babbling wash over him without saying a word. Still pointing the gun at Buck, he softly said, “Mitts up, boy.”

“Huh?”

“You deaf?”

Buck's smile went wry as he tried to argue, “Look, I'm not with your acting troupe. I just wanted to take a look around. I'm a visitor.”

“A visitor?” Mocking Buck's tone, the man scoffed. “Empty your pockets.”

“My... my pockets?”

“Slow on the uptake, that what you are? Show me your weapons!”

Buck was utterly confused, but he didn't want to upset the guy any further. Something didn’t add up, and he had no real explanation for it. It seemed logical that no one would stage a show for just a single visitor, though. Maybe it was a day off for this museum village, if it was one at all, maybe he’d just picked the wrong time to come here. It wasn’t a particularly reassuring thought, because it might make that guy an ordinary thief, believing today was a good day for a burglary.

Something about this theory seemed stupid to Buck, but for the time being, he found it safer to assume that the gun in the other guy's hand was real. 

“No shenanigans!”

Buck nodded, unsure if the other could even see it, and then carefully turned out the pockets of his jeans. 

“See? I don't have any weapons.”

And no phone either, which worried him quite a bit. He’d lost time, part of his memories, and now also his phone. No chance to call 911 now, there probably wasn’t even a landline here.

“Take off your belt and turn 'round,” the stranger said.

“M-my belt?”

“Wanna see if there's a gun under your shirt, moron!”

“Fine,” mumbled Buck, pulling the shirt out of his pants, exposing his back while turning around, “I really don't have a gun.”

“Pretty stupid,” said the other, sounding slightly confused as he added, “What’s with the tattoos, you a sailor?”

Buck was pretty bewildered himself. What had he gotten himself into? Maybe that guy was on drugs or something.

“Didn’t expect to burst right into a robbery,” he answered without thinking.

“Robbery? In a ghost town?”

The guy, whose face Buck still couldn't quite make out, gave a hoarse laugh, but at least he lowered his pistol. 

“W-what do you mean, this isn’t the museum? Did I take the wrong turn?”

Buck was utterly distraught. He didn't even remember getting into the car today, let alone planning a trip to a Wild West town. In fact, he didn’t remember anything that had happened before the moment he locked his eyes upon this place. It was strange, eerie even. But he barely had time to think about it. The other guy was now strolling around the bar, putting an effort to seem calm, yet his next words came in an impatient tone. 

“Stop babbling and tell me what you want. Kinard send you?”

“W-what? Kinard? What's Tommy got to do with it?”

Buck felt the blood drain from his face. Was this some kind of crazy prank? But Tommy wouldn't do that... anyway, the idea was stupid, they hadn't spoken in weeks. Buck had stared at his phone, waiting for an explanation that never came, and at some point, he just had given up. Somehow he’d been too much of a coward to confront Tommy. Maybe it was better this way, he’d never been a guy worth explaining things to, right? Buck took a deep breath, but it didn’t really calm him down. 

“Who’s Tommy? Ya kiddin' me, boy? I'm talkin' 'bout District Sheriff Kinard. Dunno how he found me already.”

Suddenly feeling dizzy, Buck reached behind to search for a hold, yet found nothing but void. To keep himself from fainting like a damsel in distress, he focused on the dust motes dancing in the pale light. They fell endlessly slowly, in contrast to his thoughts, which seemed to move in spirals up and down, but still in circled. Buck came to no conclusion as to what was happening.

The stranger finally came to halt in the patch of light the small window allowed into the room, and Buck thought the ground was giving way under his feet. His lips were suddenly so dry as if he had fallen face down in the dust outside.

With his tongue heavy, he breathed, “Billy Boils?”

--- Special thanks go out to @li-nox, who's partly responsible for me having this idea at all, and who listened patiently to my rambling :)