#so I am very torn on this one .. lol

[chibishortdeath]

R.I.P Simon Belmont, he woulda loved the 80s 😔

[safyresky]

Scrimbly Jacqueline 13/52: In which Jacqueline impresses the Lady of the Lake and gives her Blacksmith Guardian a heart attack and a HALF.

COMPLETE with SILLY LITTLE DRABBLE BELOW THE CUT :O

Disclaimer: I know nothing about Arthurian Legends. HASHTAG WINGING IT!!!!

-

"What happened to the one in the anvil?!"

"Broke it fairly fast in a duel if you can believe it."

"He BROKE one of my SWORDS?!"

"He did stick it back in the anvil after drawing it out the first time."

"He did WHAT to my SWORD?"

"And then pulled it back out again. After multiple people took a go at it. Merlin was a bit late to the whole affair. Wizards, y'know. Terrible timing."

"In AND out of the anvil?! MULTIPLE TIMES?"

"Deep breaths, Bastion! Red's really not your colour."

The dwarf took a deep breath in; held it. Breathed out. The wind from his exhale ruffled his sooty beard. He frowned to himself; the lines in his forehead creased deeply as he tugged his beard in thought, the gaggle of young magibeans he had taken in running around the shop behind him. Sparks flew as the older ones worked to make various weapons; some worked on aesthetic details, piles of gems and precious stones gently strewn about the benches. Water hissed as weapons were cooled, clanking ringing out from the far recesses of the shop.

"Well Bastion? Up to snuff?"

"We'll get it done. It may take a little bit to forge a fresh one—"

"Not to worry! I came prepared." The woman in front of him grinned. She lifted her hand. Bastion watched, head tilted in interest as her palm glowed turquoise and suddenly, CLANG! CLATTER! A pile of swords appeared out of thin air and landed right on the counter top, water sloshing and spilling off the sides of it.

Bastion gawked.

"You wouldn't believe how many people dump their swords in the lake. Nasty little surprise, having one of these buggers hit you right on the noggin. Enchanted, too, most of them!"

"Most of them?" Bastion picked one up, admiring the craftsmanship and the inlaid gems. "All of them, I'd say! This pile is radiating magic. Between the lot of us and this pile we should have the new piece done to your specifications in, oh, about two weeks? Belinda, what do you think?"

A tall, elvish woman came over, magnifying eyepiece in her eye. She hmm'd, examining the gems inlaid in the sword pile quickly and closely. "Maybe more. Some of these enchantments have worn away completely, and they'll need replacing. We can do that in house, of course, but there are a handful we'll need to procure out of shop. The anti-fatigue one, we'll have to pop over the wall to get. The strengthening one, that'll be in the mountains."

"I can grab that one meself," Bastion volunteered.

"I can send Maggie over the wall. She does well with the fairies here. Hmm. Breathing underwater? Now, that one may be a feat—"

"Oh, not to worry! I took care of that one." Another glowing turquoise hand lifted and a small gem appeared in front of the pair, suspended in a bubble of water. "One of my specialties," the lady teased, winking as the bubble popped. The gem landed in Belinda's hand, the water bubble popping right on Bastion's nose.

He wiped it off, completely unbothered.

"I can procure a seeing stone. That should be simple enough. That just leaves the resistant gems. Most of which we have here...all but the cold resistant one. That'll be off in the far frozen."

Behind the pair, one of the magibeans by the anvil perked up. The Lady of the Lake watched as the girl tilted her head, listening in.

"We can send Tristan—"

"TRISTAN?! NOT TRISTAN!"

Belinda looked amused as the girl—a sprite, the lady noted—ran over to their little group. Bastion looked very, very tired. And perhaps a bit anxious? The girl pushed right through the pair of them, indignant, hands on her hips. "Tristan is STINKY! And ANNOYING! He's not even cold resistant—"

"But he is older and has much more experience with these sorts of environments—"

"HE'S GONNA MELT ALL THE ICE! I won't! I can just waltz right through it! Can't you send me? I wanna go! You know I can do it!"

"I know that if I send you and something happens, your father will kill me right dead! Send me right off to Rosehaven, personally! He's trusted me to take care of you!"

Well this just got interesting, the lady thought to herself, watching in amusement. "Does he usually go around killing people?"

"No. Not that I know of, at least. See, he's in a position of power."

"Oh?"

"One of the Governors back home."

"Oh."

"He won't kill you, honest! He's the nicest person I know! "

"Her mother may, though," Belinda pointed out.

Bastion hummed. "Fair point."

"What? No it's not! She'd be super okay with it and say it was furthering my spritely education—"

"Did someone call for me?!"

"UGH nooooOOOOoo go AWAY TRISTAN!"

"Always a pleasure to interact with you, squirt."

A taller sprite had appeared now, shoving the girl to the side and taking her place between the pair of smiths, armour shiny, surcoat barely creased or smudged or dirty. "Fair Lady of the Lake, I would be HONOURED to fetch this gem for you." He bowed deeply, holding his hands above him and summoning a little flame.

The Lady of the Lake barely repressed her snort in time. The sprite rolled her eyes, a sentiment shared with Belinda. Bastion exhaled loudly through his nose.

"That's enough of that. Up you go. It's off to the far frozen for you. We're out of cold resistant gems and we'll be needing one for the new King's SECOND," he shot an unamused glance the lady's way, "sword."

"I will venture to the far frozen mountains! I'll leave at dawn, after procuring the finest cold resistant clothing and warmest warmly enchanted sword we have here!" He dropped the grandeur, looking giddy and very much like the under two-thousand year old sprite he was. "This'll look great for knights looking for a new squire."

"I'm sure," the Lady of the Lake replied, biting her tongue very, very much.

"It will take me but two weeks time—"

"I could do it in one! DAY even! Not week! Come on, do we really have to send him of all people? Of all SPRITES?!"

"That's enough Jacqueline," Belinda spoke sternly. "Mind our guest."

The girl huffed, blowing an errant curl of off her forehead and stomping away, disappearing into the back recesses of the workshop, mumbling something about elements versus what sounded very much like "a whole ass season".

The Lady snickered to herself.

"So sorry about that. She's a..."

"Piece of work?" Tristan suggested.

"Adventurous sort," Belinda spoke over the young squire, glaring daggers at him.

"It's quite all right. Kids. So! Sword. About a month, then?"

"If you'd like the opal then yes, about a month. If not, two weeks."

"Brilliant! I'll be back in a month. And you can keep whatever swords you don't use. I've no attachment to any of them. Cluttering up the lake and hitting my head and interrupting perfectly relaxing mud soaks," she tsk'd. "I'll be off then!"

And before Tristan could abase himself any further, the Lady of the Lake was out the door and well on her way down the lane.

-

The moment Melusine shut the door behind her, she cackled. What an absolute wanker, that Tristan. She had far more faith in the delightfully outspoken sprite than she did in that sorry slip of a squire.

Sword issue taken care of (both of them, thankfully) she made her way back to her humble abode (lake), thoughts returning to her next task: find who had thrown the last sword into her lake and jinx their arm. Terrible aim for a thousand days, perhaps. Or maybe turn it into something wiggly. Like an eel. Or a tentacle. Somewhere in that wheelhouse, for sure—

"HEY! HEY! LADY OF THE LAKE. YOUR LADY OF THE LAKENESS, THAT IS."

Mel turned abruptly, watching as the sprite from before wriggled her way out of one of the windows and ran towards her, waving her down.

"WAIT UP! PLEASE! DON'T GO BACK TO YOUR LAKE YET I WANNA TALK!"

She fell mid run, flat on her face. Mel winced, about to ask if the sprite was all right when she sprung back up (a chilly wind flitting through the lane way) and continued running, unbothered. She skid to a stop right in front of her, breathing heavily for a moment, her coiled braids swinging, little hairs trying to escape the neat loops.

"Alright?"

"Yeah! Absolutely! Just catching my breath. Hi! Sorry to bug you, um, your lakeyness," the girl bobbed a quick and lazy curtsy.

"Not at all."

"Oh! Good! I thought maybe it would be—I wasn't very polite back there. I usually am! Tristan just bugs me a LOT."

"He's a knob."

The girl grinned, laughing. "RIGHT? And it's very annoying that he gets to go on that fetch quest cuz like, ice and snow is my SPECIALTY. Anyway, I wanted to ask you if Bastion and Belinda gave you an estimate? For time, that is."

"With that sop going on the fetch quest? About a month. I can wait, though! I've tons of other things to do in the meantime. Which is more inconvenient as an arm, do you think—tentacle or an eel?"

The sprite looked thoughtful for a moment. "Eel! Because it has a mind of its own! Harder to control if it doesn't think like you. Unless that's not the aim here?"

"No, it is! It is. Good point about the eel."

"Thanks! I try. Without the cold gem thingy. Did Bastion say how long it'd be?"

"About two weeks."

"Oh! Good! So come back in two weeks and it'll be ready."

Mel quirked an eyebrow. "Really now?"

"Mhmm!" The girl nodded exuberantly, an excited glint in her eyes. "I'm gonna go get the opal."

"Didn't your guardian tell you not to?"

"Mmmmmaybe—"

"I heard him myself."

"—ooookay so YES he did BUT! He is OVERREACTING and Tristan is gonna WALK. I CAN TELEPORT! I CAN POOF IN AND OUT AND BE BACK SO FAST!"

Mel served her with a stern look.

The sprite bristled. "I'll be okay! Really!"

"Now I'm all for giving men like Tristan the old what-for, but Bastion's the best swordsmith around. Not to mention a stand-up magibean. I certainly wouldn't like to see him sent to Rosehaven by your parents should something happen to you."

"Nothing's gonna happen! I've survived WAY worse!"

There was a brief pause; a quick emotion passed over her eyes. But before Mel could discern anything other than she meant it when she said she'd survived worse, it was gone, and the sprite continued as though nothing had happened.

"And my parents won't hurt him, I've been out and about for like three hundred years at this point and they have their hands full with my younger siblings. Even THEY could do a better job than Tristan, and they're not even four HUNDRED yet."

Despite how funny the sprite was being, Mel tried very hard to keep the stern facade. "Have you told Bastion you're going?"

"Would you believe me if I said I did and he was okay with it, totally changed his mind?"

"No."

"Look, your lakeyness—"

"Mel."

"Jacqueline!"

"Charmed."

"Me too! You're like, one of the coolest magibeans around these parts. All of the littler kids are losing it in the back," Jacqueline said, giggling. Mel smiled to herself. "Anyway. Please don't tell him! He'll get all over protective and stuff. Which I appreciate of course," she said, sticking her palms flat in front of her. "I'm really glad he let me apprentice here! And he teaches us all how to use the swords which is great! I'm very thankful. Don't get me wrong. I just...really wanna do this, y'know? And telling him would make it really hard for me to do this."

"Hmm. You're right. Perhaps I should cut out the middle man and go right to your parents myself?"

"Please don't! I really, really wanna do this!"

"Ah, so they would stop you?"

The sprite made an unsure noise, tilting her hand back and forth in front of her. "Fifty-fifty."

"Interesting."

"What?"

"Oh, plenty of things. You think I know your parents?"

She shrugged. "Most people do! It's kinda obvious, actually." she flushed a bit, scratching her head. "Anyway, I really think someone needs to knock Tristan off his high horse, and since I don't have jousting mastery yet or the means to get a lance and corner him, I was thinking that if I showed him up instead, it'd lay him FLAT on his BACK!"

"I admit, that does sound very appealing."

"Really?"

"Oh, absolutely. I deal with his type all the time. They're all knobs, really. It'd be fun to see all those big airs pushed right out of them. Do you think they'd make a rather rude noise as they deflate?"

The sprite giggled. "I hope so!"

"Then it's settled! I'll be back in two weeks time for my sword, complete with cold resistant opal."

"Really?" she brightened. It was rather heartwarming.

"Truly."

"Ah, thank you thank you THANK YOU!" she hopped forward, almost hugging the Lady of the Lake before stopping herself with a sheepish grin. "Sorry." she cleared her throat. "Anyway, I'm gonna head out now. I'll be fast! They won't even know I was gone," she winked. "See you in two weeks?"

"I'll be there bright and early for the sword."

"Yay! Okay! See you then!"

And with a cheeky little salute, the girl continued her run down the laneway, a scabbard on her back bouncing with each footfall.

She's got it, Mel thought to herself, as the delightfully outspoken sprite crested the hill and disappeared in a flurry of light blue sparks and what looked to be an actual flurry of snow.

-

Two weeks later found Melusine at the front counter once more, requesting to see her completed sword from a delightfully confused Bastion.

"I mean, it's done as done gets, but Tristan isn't back from the far frozen just yet so the opal is missing—"

"No it's not! TA-DA!"

Mel grinned to herself as Bastion turned. She could picture the jaw drop when his whole body seemed to sag in shock as he looked at the person who had just spoken up.

It was Jacqueline. She stood in a very wide horse stance, proudly holding up a small opal, maniacal grin on her face.

"You didn't."

"I did! And I did it in a DAY. And nothing happened to me at all! And you didn't even notice I was gone! I came right back nice and safe! And my parents won't be doing a murder because I told them what I did and they were very proud, which is what I THOUGHT and also KNEW would happen!"

"Well done," Belinda pipped up from her workspace. "And I suppose this is the reason why I couldn't find the sword in question amongst the others?"

"I stayed up all night getting it ready so that I could do THIS!" With a flourish, she pulled the sword out from behind her, placed it gently down on the counter top, and placed the opal right into the setting she had carefully carved for it last night.

It slid right in and glowed a brilliant, bright white. Then, the other gems glowed; the entire sword, in fact, was glowing, an iridescent rainbow. It lifted up off the counter, shaking for but a moment before flying into the scabbard when Jacqueline held it out in front of her.

The glow diminished; the smithy grew silent.

"Your sword, your lakeyness," Jacqueline said, bowing down and offering it to her. "It has been a great hONoUr to BEQUEATH to you this BLESS-ED OBJECT, for I journeyed SOOO FAR to procure the far frozen opal IN BUT A DAY FOR YOU! WITH NAUGHT BUT MINE OWN TWO HANDS—"

"That's quite enough, Jacqueline," Belinda interrupted, amused.

"It was good, right? I sounded just like Tristan."

"Well I'm impressed," Mel said, taking the scabbard and throwing it over her shoulders.

"And I am most definitely having a heart attack," Bastion decided, clutching his chest.

Belinda rolled her eyes, placing her eyepiece down and coming around the table. Carefully, she turned Bastion around and sat him down, looking him over. "You'll be fine."

"And what of Tristan?"

"I see his type all the time. He'll be right as rain. Oh, sure, his ego will take a hit and he may bemoan and grovel and do all sorts of silly it's the end nonsense, but he'll bounce back. They always do. We can only hope he'll be a little more subdued." Mel shrugged.

Jacqueline looked delighted. "Then we'll see who the piece of work REALLY IS."

"Should we call him back?"

"Nah. It'll be funnier if we leave him alone and he comes back all like OH! WOE IS ME! I HAVE FAILED YOU! And then DEFLATES! With GAS NOISES!"

"He'll be so upset," Bastion mused.

"Gas noises?" Belinda would regret asking, quirking an eyebrow.

"Yeah! Y'know, like, PFFFT," Jacqueline blew a very wet raspberry, hopping up and sitting on the counter. "Maybe Mel will come by to ah, soothe his ego?"

"And by soothe you mean—?"

Jacqueline grinned. "Watch him cry like a big baby and die a bit on the inside when he realizes he was bested by THIS GAL!" She hopped up on the counter, pointing at herself with both her thumbs.

"Jolly good! I'll be sure to pop on by in the next fortnight. Now! Bastion! what is it I owe you?"

Still shocked into silence, Bastion barely managed to utter a puff of air. With a sigh, Belinda pat his head and turned to Mel. "Given his present state and the materials you brought for us to use, consider this one on the house. And Mistress Frost? Off the counter, if you please. That's more than enough out of you."

---

My god, that got out of control. Delightful! I'm sure Mel and Jacquie had a ball when Tristan came back as he very much did think he was BESTED by some DEVILISH FOE. And you know what? He wasn't wrong!

Anyway, this SCRIMBLE was requested by @definitelyy-not-a-vampire a haute minute ago:

The drabbley ficlet smile shot thing just. It just. haPPENED. Whoops! Sorry not sorry!

She WAS gonna be scruffy and grubby and full of soot but then when the Lady of the Lake came into play (who in my mind is 100% @kscribbs Melusine of Miller's Law fame), Jacqueline was like "nah. I'm gonna impress the SHIT outta her! >:D"

And that went from IMPRESS to FUCK AROUND WITH AN ABSOLUTE FOP OF A SPRITE WITH HER in like. 100 words while writing the ficlet, lol.

Enjoy! Here's the un-scanned/edited one:

And you bet your ass I have some design notes >:)

I stole a fashion through the ages textbook from the library (and by steal I mean I have renewed it every semester and it has lived on my bookshelf since about 2019) and scoured through the middle ages chapter to figure out this fit

NOBODY TOLD ME IF SURCOTS WERE SHORT OR LONG SO I YOLO'D.

Wanted to throw in some purpleish pink bc I think purple is in Jacquie's palette, she's THAT GOOD at ice >:)

The hair is not short, it is simply in those braided coif. Things???? And it is a MIRACLE they are staying put

This is between 1350-1450 so she's between 1255-1355. IDEAL Gremlin age lmao

I don't have enough experience/markers to make the opal look opal so YOLO lmao

And yes this is uh, up very late lol. BUT YOU CAN SEE TAGS FOR DEETS! AND THIS JUST MEANS DOUBLE SCRIMBLES THIS WEEK LMAO

[dutybcrne]

Thinkings thinkings of Fatui!Kaeya have been reawakened in reviewing Arle's teasers/animations

[oathofpromises]

𝕀𝕟 𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕕𝕒𝕣𝕜𝕖𝕤𝕥 𝕞𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕤, 𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕝𝕚𝕗𝕖 𝕗𝕝𝕒𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕤 𝕓𝕖𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕦𝕤, 𝕨𝕖 𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕕 𝕤𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘; 𝕊𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕜𝕖𝕖𝕡𝕤 𝕦𝕤 𝕘𝕠𝕚𝕟𝕘.

[xxlumos]

I am using my smol baby grogu art for literally every profile picture on every social media I have except tumblr ... but I also don't want to change my current one .. and its not even me lol

[fabulouslygaybean]

i have to wake up for the trip in 5 hours but im still packing. fuck

[heytheredelulu]

I was wondering if you could do maybe a like feral Bucky? Like maybe they trigger the soldat and instead of him fallowing their orders he goes after the shy curvy little intern of Tony’s? They’ve both been too shy to make a move. I’m cool with whatever spin you put on it, I LOVE your writing.

(Love all your normal kinks so feel free to add those too as you see fit! )

Thank you lovely 🥰 Can’t wait to drool over more of your writing lol

I took this and RAN with it.

It ended up becoming much longer than I had anticipated so this one will be broken up into two parts.

I struggled with trying to incorporate Bucky being triggered after the reader already being somewhat aquatinted with him, pining after him, etc. so I went the route I did and I hope it fulfills your request!

Part one will be mostly just plot building with a spicy cliff hanger leading us into a part two of pure smut.

Ready to Comply - Part One - Anon Request

Bucky Barnes x Plus Size Reader

ALL OF MY WORK IS 18+

Word Count: 2.5k

C/W: Language, discussion/implications of violence and murder, choking, blood (Bucky is strugglin’ and bites his own hand), a lil sexual tension in prep for part two, he sniffs her coochie, okay?

“Okay, stop. Stop that.” Tony whispered out of the corner of his mouth. You shot him a glance and tugged at your skirt one more time for good measure. He lets out an exasperated sigh and rolls his eyes. “You look fine, Rookie. Very professional. Is that what you needed to hear?”

You scoff and shake your head. “That’s no- I’m not fishing for compliments, I genuinely hate dressing like a fucking secretary.” You grumble, drawing a laugh out of Tony. “And don’t call me ‘Rookie.’” You add with a prod to his chest. He brushes the front of his suit jacket sarcastically in response to your poke and raises his hands defensively, a soft chuckle rising from his throat.

“A fucking secretary? Really? It’s business professional. Did you think I could let you stand next to me in a press conference wearing an old t-shirt and some torn up jeans? We need to create a semblance of professionalism.” He gestures to his own attire with a grin and there’s a teasing glint in his eye as he continues.

“And what’s wrong with ‘Rookie’? You’re my little protégé.” He jests, reaching like he’s going to pinch your cheek as if you were some adorable little toddler. You frown, swatting his hand away and brings it to his chest, clutching it dramatically. “Wow, you’re going to assault your friend, mentor and extremely rich and handsome boss?” He jokes, feigning offense.

“The only accurate adjective in that sentence is ‘boss’, Sir.” You reply dryly, crossing your arms. The corners of his lips twitch into a sly smile and he nudges you with his elbow. “I’ll accept if you don’t agree with friend and mentor.” He starts, pressing his lips into a pout. “But I might actually get a little offended if you refuse to acknowledge how devastatingly handsome I am.”

You groan in annoyance and roll your eyes, preparing a witty comeback when Pepper Potts rounds the corner with a tablet cradled in her arm, a phone nestled between her ear and shoulder and an expression of concern written across her face.

“Everything alright?” Tony asks, placing a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “Don’t tell me.. another offer for People’s ‘sexiest man alive’? I keep telling them, I can’t be on the cover every ye-“ Tony stops mid sentence as Pepper’s manicured forefinger lands on his lips, effectively silencing him.

“Yes. Okay. Understood. Thank you.” She says curtly into the phone before disconnecting the call. “That was Fury. We have an issue. A Barnes issue.”

Your brows furrow at this. “What’s happened with Bucky?” You ask, a sense of dread creeping up your spine. He’d been all but isolated since he’d moved into the Avenger’s tower alongside his best friend Steve Rogers and you couldn’t imagine him being the source of an issue with how reserved this man was. You weren’t at all oblivious to his past- it had been global wide news after all, but in the months since his de-conditioning in Wakanda he had been making great strides towards recovery, working to make amends.

Though your interactions with the ex-assassin had been few, he’d always been polite and kind towards you. You’d felt so out of place among the Avengers, being Tony’s intern. You weren’t on the team, hell, a few of them didn’t even know your name despite you having been trailing behind Tony for the last year. Maybe it was your own fault, considering you hadn’t really made an effort to talk to any of them but aside from the fact that they were all extremely intimidating, you were naturally a shy and quiet person.

You quickly push the self deprecating thoughts from your head. You didn’t care about any of that. You shouldn’t. It wasn’t as if you wanted to be on the team, or were there to make friends, you were here as an engineer, to learn from who was arguably the most intelligent man on the planet. Perhaps that’s why Bucky had always been cordial to you more than some of the others living here. Maybe he gravitated towards you, as someone who constantly felt so out of place, because he felt that way here as well.

Or maybe he thought you were cute.

Oh fuck, if only.

You couldn’t deny your attraction to the man or that you’d been quietly crushing on him practically since you’d started your internship. Every small interaction with Bucky left a blush on your cheeks and a kaleidoscope of butterflies flitting about your belly.

The thought of someone as absurdly good looking as Bucky fucking Barnes finding you attractive was enough to spark a surge of heat straight to your abdomen.

No, get it together. Now’s not the time.

You mentally scold your vagina for having the nerve to throb at the mere mention of Bucky Barnes regardless of the context and turn your attention back to Pepper and Tony as they argued in hushed whispers.

“What’s happened with Bucky?” You repeat, knowing they likely won’t clue you in if it’s related to Avenger’s business.

Tony offers a nervous smile and exchanges a quick glance with his wife before he checks his watch. “Terminator? He’s fine. I’m sure it’s nothing. Probably holed up with security for setting off the metal detector.” He pauses and then snaps his fingers. “Or maybe he walked past the junkyard on fifth and got snatched up by the hydraulic magnet.” He says, lifting a hand and miming a crane.

Pepper lets out a soft sigh and your gaze flicks to her. “Yeah, a big magnet or something.” She mumbles, turning her attention back to her tablet. “I don’t think that’s-“ Your cut off by Tony’s hand on the small of your back, urging you forward. “Enough about Robocop. We’re on, Rookie.” He says, his nervous expression falling away and quickly being replaced with a mask of professionalism. “Let’s go unveil our project to the press.” Pepper moves to open the door for you both and before you can open your mouth to tell Tony that if he calls you ‘rookie’ one more time you were going to strangle him with his overpriced tie, your senses are overwhelmed with an onslaught of overlapping voices and camera shutters.

You toss your blazer over the desk in your quaint office and slump over into the chair, trying not to let your mind run wild with anxious thoughts about the press conference. Despite your best efforts you couldn’t help but worry that you probably looked like a deer in headlights up at the podium alongside Tony.

You huff and rest your chin on the back of your hand, glancing over at the computer screens. Your attention is immediately drawn to security footage from one of the conference rooms when you see movement on the monitor. You lean in with your brows furrowed. It’s late and no one should be in the conference room. You expand the image and can clearly make out Tony and Steve moving about the room with tense body language.

You hover over the footage with your mouse and hesitate. You know that you absolutely should not eavesdrop on the two men but once Tony’s hands begin angrily gesturing around you give in to temptation and turn on the audio.

“What the hell do you mean, ‘back up?’” Tony shouts, beginning to pace the room.

Steve leans forward with his palms on the table and his head bowed slightly. “It’s exactly what I said, Tony.” He replies, his biceps flexing as he grips the table. “HYDRA had a fail safe. They’d planted a back up activation incase he would ever manage to be deprogrammed.” He looks up at Tony with a solemn expression. “They got to him. I should’ve been there, I should’ve-“

Tony holds out a hand, his other resting against his temple as he tries to comprehend what Steve is telling him. “Well you weren’t and they did so know we have to figure out how the fuck we navigate this.” He says firmly, shaking his head. “Do we have eyes on him? Is he in the building?”

Steve sighed and stood upright from the table. “No. He’s in the wind. We lost contact with him a few hours ago.” He admits, running a hand through his hair. “But there’s something you need to know.” He adds, looking at Tony with concern as he begins to pace again.

“Well spit it out, Rogers!” Tony yells, stopping and turning back to Steve.

“Nat received some intel. The hit HYDRA ordered is on you and your intern.” He says so quietly you can barely pick it up on the audio. Fear crawls up your spine and your hand trembles as you increase the volume on the security feed, while your heartbeat in your ears becomes near deafening.

Tony stiffens, slowly approaching Steve. “You wanna tell me why?” He asks, his voice low and dangerous. Steve nods. “The new tech you unveiled today.“ He explains.

Tony sighs, understanding why one of their enemies would be threatened by what the two of you had been working on and reaches to loosen his tie. “I’ll take Pepper and move her to the safe house before I meet you at a rendezvous point. Send someone to get my Rookie and get her off the grid. I don’t want her alone for a single second.” He says in an exasperated tone, reaching into his suit jacket and pulling out his cell phone as he stalks towards the door.

“And Rogers?” He asks, turning around one last time, his hand curled tight around the doorknob. Steve’s head snaps up and he looks at Tony with guilt ridden eyes. “Yeah?”

“Find Barnes.”

Find Barnes.

The statement echoes in your ears, sending your thoughts spinning as if a category five hurricane were waging inside your head.

No. No, no, no.

There’s a hit out on you?

To be carried out by the fucking Winter Soldier.

Oh you were so fucked.

You scoot your chair back, bracing your hands on the desk to stand with wobbly knees.

Bile rises in your throat as you take a slow step backwards, bumping the chair in your state of panic and knocking your jacket off the workbench. You jump at the sound of it slipping to the floor and clutch your chest as a result of inducing your own jumpscare and take slow breaths to steel your nerves before you bend down to pick it up. As you rise back upright, your gaze connects with a pair of vacant, icy blue eyes in the shadows across the room and your entire body seizes in terror.

He’s not in the wind.

He’s been in here with you this entire goddamned time.

“B-Bucky?” You stutter, bringing your jacket to your chest and grasping it until your knuckles turn white. Maybe Steve and Tony were wrong. Maybe Nat’s intel was wrong. Maybe this was all a huge misunderstanding and you weren’t about to die at the hands of the ex-assassin you’ve been pining over for nearly a year.

He takes a step forward from the shadows, his face expressionless and his eyes unblinking without a single trace of emotion behind them.

Okay, yeah. You’re fucked.

“Sergeant Barnes?” You whisper, almost a plea to the man you knew, locked away somewhere in the brain of the cold and calculated killer standing in front of you.

He doesn’t speak, doesn’t register your words, as he crosses the lab in a few quick strides and catches your throat in his cybernetic hand.

Oh god.

The air leaves your lungs, his grip tightening around your windpipe as his face remains blank.

You’re going to die.

So why are you so fucking turned on?

Heat pools low in your abdomen, your core flooding with arousal, coupled with fear and unbridled lust.

Your mouth falls open in a silent cry as you gasp and thrash in his grip, your thick thighs rubbing together with every kick and flail, doing nothing to alleviate the throbbing ache in your cunt.

God this is so wrong.

His brows furrow, the first hint of emotion since he stepped out of the shadows. His head tilts inquisitively and his grip slackens around your throat as he leans in, tracing his nose across your jaw line and inhaling deeply. You still, your face contorting in confusion as you swallow hard against his palm, leaning your body into his hold.

His eyes narrow as he pulls away from you and you take the opportunity to suck in a breath, massaging your neck gently while your gaze drops to observe his hands clenching and unclenching into fists at his sides.

“Bucky?” You ask, wondering what’s caused the sudden shift in his demeanor, wondering if maybe he’s somehow snapped out of the trance he’d been in. He’s still and silent for a long moment, his head bowed as his chest rises and falls heavily with every breath.

“Sergeant Barnes, are yo-“

His head snaps up, effectively silencing you.

Your mouth remains agape, stuck on your last word and as he watches you with predatory eyes, taking menacing steps toward you, you can’t seem to find your voice any longer. You stumble backwards, losing your balance and falling back against the desk, unable to regain your footing before his hands grip the flesh of your bare thighs.

He tilts you backwards, your back colliding hard with the surface of the desk, stealing the breath out of your chest. He drops to his knees, splaying his palms against your thighs, the hem of your dress rising up to expose your panties as he spreads your legs wide before him and drags his nose across the fabric.

He groans.

He fucking groans.

“You’re my mission.” He breathes out, eyes wild and fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs as if he were fighting to physically restrain himself.

“I know.” You whimper, lifting your head to look down at him over the soft curve of your stomach.

“I’ve been ordered to kill you.” He chokes out, pressing his forehead against your inner thigh and drawing in a deep and shuddering breath.

“Then why haven’t you?” You ask in a broken whisper.

He turns his head and mumbles something incoherently, his breath ghosting against the damp fabric of your underwear and sending a wave of arousal crashing through your core. He stiffens, curling his flesh hand into a fist and bringing it to his mouth, biting down on his knuckles as he swallows back a moan.

He shakes his head, his teeth pressing into his skin hard enough to draw blood and you move to sit up, leaning on your palms as you look down at him where he’s slotted between your legs, visibly trembling.

He rises quickly to his feet, his left hand shooting out to curl around your neck again and he drops his bloodied flesh hand to his side.

“Because..” He says through clenched teeth, inhaling sharply as the cool metal of his thumb strokes the column of your throat.

“I can’t fucking focus when all I can smell-“

His free hand roughly cups your pussy over your panties, his voice trailing off as he kneads his palm against the thin, wet fabric.

He growls, tightening his grip around your throat and jerking you up to him, forcing you to meet his threatening gaze.

His expression grows pained and he whimpers, dipping his head to meet your forehead with his own, his breath fanning across your face with every heave of his chest.

“All I can smell is how wet you are.”

Taglist (Taglist is open):

@suz7days @blackbirdwitch22 @truthfulliarr @lilacka

Part two

[badgerbl00d]

one piece boys rescuing you pt. 2

☆ characters: sanji, kidd

☆ up next: waking up with the one piece boys

☆ summary: you end up in an awful situation where your life is put in serious danger. will they be able to save you in time?

☆ content: physical violence, slight SA implications, gory imagery (blood, wounds, injuries, etc.), mutual pining, angsty, happy ending, mdni

☆ a/n: i am the proud leader of the scottish!kidd agenda and like to imagine him using scottish slang and having a thick accent so this required some extensive research into scottish swear words lol. chebs (tits) is my favorite. enjoy!

part 1

Sanji:

Zoro nodded, wordlessly, resting against the doorframe. 

“Careful you don’t catch her in the crossfire.” 

Sanji said nothing. He opened the door and walked in, closing it behind him. 

For the first time in his life Zoro’s presence brought him a degree of comfort. He knew he could handle whatever awaited him by himself, but he would be a fool to deny that the swordsman was further guaranteeing your safe return home. 

He descended a small set of stairs into a dark, damp basement. The walls were lined with a sickly yellow mold and the smell of rot had sunken into the cracks of concrete, filling the room with the thick, metallic smell of drying blood. 

His stomach churned knowing that you were somewhere here.

A door lay slightly ajar at the end of the hallway, pale yellow light pouring out from it. 

He approached the door, pushing it open with his free hand. 

Merde. 

He was greeting with a sight that made his head spin in a way it never had before. He steeled himself, biting back the urge to vomit at the sight of what they had done to you. 

Five or six men, whose faces he didn’t care to look at, stood around the room surrounding you. 

The outer corners of the dirty cloth that had been wound around your mouth as a gag were soaked through with blood. Sanji felt heat climbing up his throat and settling into the space behind his eyes translating itself from mere anger to blind fury. 

Your hands were bound too tightly behind your back leaving your elbows bending at unnatural angles and your shoulders jutted forward as though they were being torn out from your skin. 

He began to undo his tie, watching from the corner of his eye as one of the men- the apparent leader- began loading his gun. His breath was shaky and uneven, the inhales and exhales never dealing with an equal amount of air. 

He never took his eyes from you as you doubled over and took small gasps of air. In the midst of his disbelief he made a mental note of each injury you seemed to have. Broken wrists, dislocated shoulders, broken ribs, cuts and bruises covering most of you- the most upsetting of which were the purpling fingerprints around your neck.

He would return every injury done to you tenfold. As he took another inhale from his cigarette he realized that you were losing blood from another wound to your side.  

The few-days-old injury to his left eye, bloodied and mushed, the broken finger on the hand wrapped around his gun, the dried trickle of blood pouring out of his left ear. 

Atta girl. He knew you wouldn’t have gone down with a fight. Sanji took a moment to glance at the others in the room, all bearing similar injuries, and couldn’t help the smirk that settled onto his face. 

One of them said something, perhaps a snarky remark meant to question his confidence, or an insult meant to diminish it. He wasn’t sure. Nothing other than you was registering in his blurring mind.

It was the sound of a faint drip, drip, drip that sealed their fate. 

As Sanji turned to see your tears hitting the floor his vision blacked. 

He felt the unfamiliar feeling of hot blood covering his hands- the very ones he’d sworn to never use in battle. 

The feeling of flesh tearing beneath his fingernails, his fingers grabbing whatever mass they could get their hands on and tearing. 

You turned your head toward the floor, trying to block out the sounds of gore and violence that echoing within the four damp walls that had held you prisoner for the past two days- not because it scared you, no. But because you did not want to face the pure satisfaction that the scene unfolding before you brought. It was too much to watch someone else carry out the revenge that was rightfully yours. 

You laid your forehead against the cold floor, sweat dripping from your forehead. God, you were exhausted. You let your body hand limp, allowing yourself to rest as best you could now that Sanji was here. 

You weren’t positive- the old digital clock that was on the desk in the corner seemed to not work properly- but by the time Sanji finally stopped, bending down to wipe the blood off of his hands onto the shirt of one of the men, you guessed that thirty six-ish minutes had passed. 

You held still as Sanji undid the restraints against your hands, letting yourself fully fall onto the floor. 

You sighed, savoring how good it felt to feel the cold, wet cement pressing against your shaking body. The floor, which for days you had been dangled over, teased with, now welcoming you onto it. 

A warm, sticky hand under your chin broke the pleasure. Sanji tilted your chin slightly upward to look at him. 

“Mon coeur,” he said, voice shaking.

“Sanj’,” you responded, closing your eyes and resting your head into his palm. 

“Can you sit up? I’ll carry you out.” 

“I can stand,” you said, more aggressively than intended. But you didn’t need to be treated like you were fragile. The fact that you were even alive was a testament to that. 

Sanji drew back, offering you only a silent hand in case you needed any assistance getting to your feet.

You struggled, taking deep breaths as you shakily made your way onto aching feet, feeling like a thousand nails were being screwed into your skin. 

Sanji tucked a hand under your armpit, resting it gently against your hips- your ribs were too cracked to risk applying any pressure to your sides. 

You winced, eyes shutting as you let the ebbing pain pass through you, placing one foot in front of the next. 

You made it to the door before you spoke.

“Let me have a smoke, will you?” 

You reached for the cigarette between his lips before he could answer and took a deep inhale, ignoring the hot white pain that seared through your chest as you did. 

One of your captors, the one who tied you up, was lying by the door. Eyes open and glazed over, mouth swelling like a dead fish left out in the hot sun. 

You bent down, enduring the pain sent by your body, a desperate attempt to make you stop moving. 

You pushed the lit cigarette into your captor’s open mouth, watching the ash burn his tongue.

You stood back up, leaning against Sanji. 

“Carry me?” 

He nodded, picking you up ever so gently, his hands providing you with a sense of security that you had spent the last several days losing any hope for. 

“One last thing, Sanj’,” you said. 

You closed your eyes, cementing this place into your brain. The stench of blood, now fresh and coppery. The humid air that stuck to your skin. 

Whispering, more to yourself than anyone, you uttered a final word.

“Rot in hell.”

Sanji carried you up the stairs and out the door. 

It was only when you saw the first hint of sunlight that you allowed yourself to fully indulge in the comfort of his presence. He was here, you were safe, he had you. 

Zoro was waiting for you with Chopper when you got outside. The sun felt both heavenly and hellish. It’s warmth proof that you were still alive- that blood flowed perhaps too freely through your bones. And it’s brightness, which so highly contrasted the mildewy lamplight of the room you were stuck in, a confirmation of what you’d gone through. But the harsh rays were suddenly replaced by cool shadow and you opened your eyes as Chopper did what immediate work was available for him to do. Sanji stood over you, the sunlight pouring over him from behind his head, a worried look on his face. 

You closed your eyes again, the tiredness of your body finally catching up with you. 

Zoro, who up until this point had said nothing, placed a hand on Sanji’s back. A gentle touch that offered a surprising sense of grounding. 

“Your hands,” he observed. Sanji looked down at them, caked in dried blood and small, stringy pieces of… skin, maybe? Flesh? He tried to recall but everything was a blur. 

Sanji shrugged, “Didn’t notice.” 

He looked at Zoro who gave him a curt nod and they both turned their attention back to you. 

A memory played out before you. 

I must be knocked out, you thought. It was crystal clear, so unlike a dream that you momentarily felt you might actually be reliving it. 

The white light of the fridge in the kitchen cast you in a glow as you rummaged through its contents. It was rare to have any leftovers with this crew. There was some fruit- none of which you liked. Milk, eggs, carrots, pork, nothing. Ingredients upon ingredients and you knew better than to start trying to cook. 

“Hungry?” 

You turned, startled to see Sanji lighting a cigarette in the doorway. 

“Yeah.. Not many options though.” 

Sanji came to stand beside you, beginning to do his own rummaging. He began grabbing several things, a head of cabbage, carrots, pork, butter, heavy cream… 

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna start cooking. It’s nearly three in the morning!” 

Sanji smiled at you, taking out the set of kitchen knives you’d gifted him just two months prior for Christmas (a gift that left his nose bleeding for nearly half an hour). 

“Ah. I couldn’t sleep. And besides, it is my job to feed you if you’re hungry.” 

You smiled and took a seat at the counter, watching him cook. Normally you might offer to help but you were far too hungry to allow your lack of expertise to ruin your own meal. 

He moved with such mesmerizing fluidity, the art was clearly a second nature to him and to watch it was captivating. The cutting of vegetables, the smell of cooking meat, the view of his forearms flexed as his hand gripped the handle of the knife, the tease of his happy trail when he lifted his arms to reach for something and his slightly small pajama shirt lifted. 

Sanji was enchanting- but so were you. 

Your head tilted to the side as you rested it on your hand, a small smile set on your lips. Your shirt was the exact opposite of his- too big on you- and was hanging off of your shoulder. Sanji did his best to not stare at your collarbone, and the line it painted that led up your pretty neck. 

“What’re you making anyway?” 

“Garbure,” he said, simmering a pot on the stove, “It’s a french soup. Sort of a cleaning-out-the-fridge thing. But it’s amazing when made well.”

You hummed, “Why couldn’t you sleep?”

“Honestly? I heard you in the kitchen and figured I’d make you something to eat.” 

“You’re an angel.” 

He looked up at you and the two of you smiled. A light jolt of electricity ran down your back. 

God, was he always this handsome?

“I think so?” 

“What?” 

“You… asked if I’m always this handsome- That was for me right?” 

“Oh- Fuck, I-I hadn’t meant to say it out loud!” Your cheeks darkened and you let out an embarrassed giggle.

“I’d ask if you’re always so beautiful but I know the answer is yes.” He ladled the soup intj a bowl and set it in front of you, serving one for himself as well. 

You leaned your head against his shoulder as you ate. 

“Mmmf- ‘S good!”

Your hand snaked through the opening between his bicep and chest to rest on his arm, giving it a light squeeze. 

“Thanks Sanj’.”

He smiled, and leaned his head against yours.

“You know, you’re the only one who calls me that. Makes me feel special.”

“You are. Who else can make ‘garbage’ this good?”

You added a french accent. 

“Garbure!” he corrected, laughing. 

“Right, right. That.” 

Maybe it was the soup or the feeling of Sanji’s hair against your forehead- both a warm and physical proof of how much you were cared for, but you couldn’t remember the last time you felt so full. 

The rest of the memory is blurry. 

You can recall the weight of sleep seeping into your body, more and more of your weight being shifted on to Sanji. 

The feeling of his hands under you, carrying you to bed. Or was that now- as he carried you into the Sunny’s infirmary? The last thing you remember- if this was even a memory anymore- is the feeling of a kiss being pressed upon your cheek. 

You woke up in one of Sunny's medical rooms with very little pain.

“I made sure you got the bed by the big window,” Sanji said from the chair he’d pulled up next to your bed, “You joked about it once.. That if you ever got hurt you’d want the room with it.” 

It looked like he’d spent the night. You were in new clothes but he wasn’t. Dark circles lined his eyes.

You smiled at him, “Thanks… For everything. I’d still be there if you hadn’t-”

Your eyes welled with tears and your lower lip was trembling, like your body recognized that within these four walls any emotions would be welcome.

Sanji placed his hand over yours and rubbed his thumb up and down your wrist. 

The tears flowed freely now, as you looked down at his hands. 

“Sanji…” 

He had started washing them but the moment Chopper told him you were stable he abandoned the project altogether. His hands were cleaner but browning bits of red gunk were drying in his nail beds. 

Your eyes were wide as you waited for him to say something, your breath shallowing.

He sighed. He didn’t want you to be reminded of anything that had to do with what you’d gone through.

“Yeah,” he said, at a loss for words. 

“I’m… sorry.” 

You weren’t sure what to say. But your heartbeat picked up as he squeezed your hand.

“Don’t be, mon ange, I’m sorry I wasn’t there sooner. We all are.” 

You laid your head back down, chewing your lip. 

“I’m glad it was you. That found me.” 

Sanji’s chest tightened. 

He’d come to terms with how he felt about you, a feeling both amplified and confirmed by the sound of your voice. His time spent around you affected him deeply beyond flirty remarks and nicknames. He was reduced to so very little in your presence, a nervous bundle of love sickness and desire. 

And you were glad he found you- that he rescued you. 

“So am I.” 

You turned to look at him. 

It didn’t really have to be said- it was there. 

In his hands dripping with filth and violence, and on your face teary-eyed and thankful. In the lingering touches and glances the two of you have been sharing for the year you’ve been a part of the Straw Hat crew. 

Neither of you had to say ‘I love you’. It was there. 

Sanji pressed a kiss to the back of your hand.

“I made soup,” he said smiling at you, “Garbage.” 

You nodded, lightly laughing. It hurt your ribs.

“I can warm some up for you, if you’d like?” He stood up, preparing to leave.

“No- Can you stay? Please,” you said. 

Sanji smiled, “Of course!” 

You scoot over on the bed making space for him, which he happily took. 

You laid your head onto his shoulder, and grabbed his hand. You felt him freeze up when you did, and laughed. 

“You just saved my life and saw me at my lowest- is holding my hand too much?” 

Sanji chuckled, “You’re right. How about this then?” 

He brought a hand underneath your chin and you locked eyes as a smile spread across his face. He dipped his head down and pressed a kiss to your lips. It was soft, and chaste. Perfect. You placed a hand against his neck to prevent him from pulling away and deepened the kiss, slipping your tongue past his lips. You felt a small moan escape him and smiled against him. When you finally pulled away a thin string of saliva connected your lips to his.

“Hot,” you said, giggling. 

Sanji’s pupils were blown wide and his cheeks pink. A few beads of sweat had gathered on his forehead and he tugged his tie loose. 

“You okay, Sanj?” 

“Yes! More than okay- I just, I wasn’t expecting that.”

You nodded, holding his hands. 

“Well, I would like to shower and… I take it you haven’t showered yet either.”

Sanji gulped, “Um, no. I haven’t.”

You smiled, admittedly proud of yourself for flustering him out of his flirty act. 

“Would you like to join me?”

Poor thing, he tried his hardest to maintain eye contact and keep up his civilized demeanor, but the steady trickle of blood that had started to pour out of his nose gave him away. 

“Yes!” he yelled, “Mon dieu, tentatrice de femme, yes, please. I would love to join you.”

You laughed, getting up out of bed. 

“Mind carrying me?”

“Of course, my love!”

You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck as he picked you up, “It’s nice to have you back, perv.”

He blushed, “What can I say? An offer like that from a woman like you is enough to fix anyone up.” 

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, walking you out of the infirmary toward the showers. 

Kidd: 

You were going to kill him. If you got out of this alive you were going to kill your captain and tear his other arm off. You knew that, one way or another, this heist was going to go wrong. It was messily planned, Killer hadn’t been consulted, and Kidd was motivated primarily by anger and a bruised ego. 

You sighed, somewhat resigned to your fate, and leaned back against the wall, trying to ignore the barrel of a shotgun that was resting against your temple. 

“Mind backing up with that?” 

The pirate holding the weapon shot you a faux-sympathetic smile, “Sorry, baby, Captain’s orders.”

He trailed a finger down your back, causing you to struggle against the cuffs. He dropped his hand and laughed at your reaction. “You’re disgusting,” you spat at him. 

He nodded. “Yeah, and you’re stuck with me here. So better watch that mouth.” 

Your wrists ached, it had been a while since you last felt the weight of sea stone against your skin. It was worse than you remembered. You could feel every muscle in your arms straining above you from where the chain that linked the cuffs hung on a nail. The first time you were handcuffed, the marines had caught you stealing but you were only fifteen, not yet a pirate, and lucky enough to have ran into a notoriously easy going captain who let you off with a warning. Those handcuffs were metal, tight against your wrists but not physically draining- if anything, you were only riled up at the inconvenience of having your hands tied. Sea stone was different. A naturally occurring mineral found in the depths of the ocean weaponized against you and other power holders. When you first felt sea stone a few years after, tight and heavy around your wrists, the fatigue stuck with you the most. How humiliating it was to not only be powerless but to have the will to fight drained from your body. You’d only narrowly escaped and swore to never be rendered so powerless again. 

Yet here you were, silently praying that Kidd would walk in soon. This heist was a bad idea from the start but you’d only agreed because you had stupidly assumed that Kidd had acquired accurate information. Your anger had somewhat subsided as you approached your third hour in captivity, it was too tiring. Hopelessness had begun to spread. 

The entire heist was Kid’s idea in the first place. A poorly executed revenge plot that you and Killer had tried to discourage. 

“That’s them?” you asked, pointing to a group of pirates. 

“Aye… First year we spent in the New World those bawbags got a few good shots on us. Heat came out with a few broken bones and it took us around a month to get Victoria back up and runnin’.” 

“Ohh, I get it. They hurt your ego and you want to get back at them. That always ends well.” 

Kidd scoffed, rolling his eyes at you.

“No- it’s luck. They have the map we need… and a lot of treasure that I wouldn’t mind taking.” 

“See!? Ego. If this was just about necessity we’d take the map and leave. I’m telling you that this is a bad idea.”

He sighed, rubbing his temples. He’d had a nonstop headache since you joined the crew. 

“Alright! Alright. Jesus, woman! Killer won’t say yes either way so I need your cooperation. No gold, no treasure. We’ll just grab the map and be on our way.”

“And by we I’m assuming you mean me?” 

He flashed you a smile that made your chest tighten.

“Aye! And if you’re caught they wouldn’t hurt a bonnie lass like ya’ anyway.” 

“Oh, I’m sure. They seem like great people.” 

“Don’t start getting smart with me,” he said, pulling out a piece of paper. 

There was a diagram of a building on it, with a room in the back circled in red ink. 

A thick metal finger landed on it, “Here’s where the map is. This building is relatively unimportant to it so they assign their lower level lackeys to guard it. There’s two guards outside each door, four guards on this one. I’ll distract all except the four by pretending to steal some other shit. They’ll recognize me.”

“And I come in through this window I’m guessing?” 

A window at the end of the hall led right to the room you needed to access.

“Aye. You’ll be alright handling the four of ‘em. But you need to keep one conscious to show you where exactly the map is. Once you’ve got it- run. They’ve got a few devil fruit users in the crew and they’ll be at the scene fairly fast. From there we can bolt.” 

You thought about it. The plan seemed quite out of character. It was extremely unlike Kidd to avoid a fight even in circumstances like this. But maybe he had other reasons…

As though he read your mind he answered, “Look, if it was just me I'd kill every son of a bitch on that crew. But I don't want ya' getting hurt.” 

You sighed, “This is a terrible idea. Your information is twenty percent reliable, at most.” 

“If you follow my instructions and we stay near each other we’ll be fine.”

“Hm, so you’re scared I’ll get hurt, huh?”

You laughed, watching his brows furrow and his cheeks go pink.

“No! Kind of, it's just 'cause you’re weak and I don’t want to have to worry about ya'.” 

“You’re still mad about losing the arm wrestling match to me, huh?” 

He scowled, folding his arms across his chest- refusing to answer. 

“Alright, cry baby let’s go.” 

Kid’s information was wrong. The four guards were the devil fruit users. You’d managed to knock two of them out relying on haki alone, but the two left were stronger. If only you could isolate one of them. Your devil-fruit worked well in close distance one on one fights, but you were mentally unprepared for this fight and the two in front of you were logia-users. You were badly beat up and struggling to stay on the offensive. Your dodges were growing slower and slower, your attacks weaker and weaker. 

Fuck, you thought, trying to stay calm and think of your best course of action. You needed to get into the room they were guarding, if you could just create an opening that caught them off guard. 

You reached for the pocket knife you kept tucked in your boots- it was a dirty move but it would have to do. You faked an attack on one of the two conscious pirates, before quickly changing directions and throwing the knife directly at one of their unconscious crewmates. They both ran in the direction of the knife to defend their crewmate, giving you the perfect opportunity. You slipped past the pirate closest to the door, shutting it behind you and jamming the handle shut with a chair. You had ten seconds tops- a chair wasn’t going to come close to stopping a logia user. Luckily for you, they had made the mistake of assuming no one would get past them and left the map out in the open, on a table with a bunch of other papers. You swiped it, quickly rolling up a loose piece of paper to imitate the map. Right as you finished tucking it into your shirt you felt a hand wrap around your neck, your vision blurring. Damn it, you thought. 

You could faintly hear the voices of the two, ‘What should we do with her?’

‘She didn’t manage to take anything,’ they laughed. A small smile settled onto your face. 

‘She’s pretty, huh?’

You felt something heavy clamp down on your wrists. What little energy had evaporated, and you blacked out. 

You were starting to lose track of time. Three, maybe four hours had passed? You had no way of being sure other than the burning numbness that had spread throughout your body. Your arms were aching in a way you never thought possible, and you had been taken to a second location, you were sure of it. If you were in the same building as before, Kidd would have found you hours ago. But there was no doing anything now. The pirate watching you had kept his distance, aside from an occasional taunt or revolting brush of his fingers. He was now settling in the corner of the room, silently watching you, his gun’s aim never leaving you. You decided that staying quiet and avoiding eye contact was the best course of action, and beating his ass would only be a thought worth entertaining once you were out of the cuffs. 

“So how does a pretty lady like you end up in a situation like this?” 

He broke the silence, much to your disappointment.

You didn’t say anything.

He stood up, coming closer to you. Your stomach churned and you looked down. 

“I asked you a question,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. 

“Fuck. you.” 

You heard the crack of his fist against your jaw before you felt it. It was dizzying and left your mouth bloody and aching. You winced, running your tongue over your now split lip. 

“What’s your name?”

He tucked his gun into his pants. You braced yourself. This was going to be a long night. 

“Your name, baby, what is it?”

You spit the blood that was pooling in your mouth onto him. 

This time it was an uppercut to your stomach. You couldn’t even double-over in pain. The third hit was to the other side of your jaw. 

You stopped counting once they went over eight. You tried to think of something else, anything else.  Killer’s baked goods, Heat and Wire’s terrible joke collection, Kidd’s latest invention or screaming match with you. You’d seen them all only hours ago but your heart was aching. You missed them.

Your mind kept going back to a few weeks ago, replaying a memory you had been trying to forget. 

You were headed to the kitchen, you remember it was warm out- or was it raining? You went with raining. You took more time than usual to make your way up to the kitchen, meandering through the halls and tracing the old wood with your hands. The sound of hushed voices caught your attention, bringing you to a stop outside of your captain’s room.

“Why don’t you talk to her about it?” 

Kidd laughed loudly, more-so to make a point than anything. 

“And say what?  I know I’m an arse and not your type but I’m madly in love with ya’ please don’t kick my arse?” 

Killer chuckled, “That’s one way to do it. Or, you know, you could just be genuine and tell her the reasons why.” 

“‘Cause she’s a tough lass- and a bonnie one, at that, a bit too good for me, no?” he said. Your heartbeat was resonating up in your throat and your mouth ran dry- who were they talking about? Kidd had only ever taunted you for being one of the stronger members on board. Your heart contracted in your chest and a deeply unsettling sense of jealousy creeped its way into your system. You tried to shake it off- it’s not like you wanted your captain to be in love with you. You definitely weren’t in love with him. 

“… I dinnae Kil’,” you heard Kidd continue, “I might be a mean son of a bitch but I don’t think my heart could handle a rejection like that.” 

“You definitely couldn’t,” Killer agreed, laughing, “But I don’t think you’d get rejected. Worth a shot if you ask me.” 

Your brain tried focusing on other things, but you always came back to your captain. Hot-headed and irrational and eighty percent of the reason you were in this mess in the first place. He had you captivated. But it was enough. You felt yourself dancing the line between conscious and not and decided to savor these memories, these  snapshots of a life on the sea. You didn’t hear when Kidd finally came in, staining the walls with a spray of red blood as he tore through the man who had dared lay his hands on you. But when you noticed the lack of hits being thrown your way you looked up. 

Kidd had experienced heartbreak before- many times, but very few things compared to what he felt when he made eye contact with you. If a heart could physically break, tear and twist and shatter, that’s what Kidd felt seeing your face, bruises and bloodied. You took note of the red staining his metal hand. It was painted in multiple shades, light crimson to dark, sticky brown. He’d been at it for a while. 

He rushed to your side, picking you up by the waist and removing the handcuffs from the nail on the wall. Your arms had been numb for an hour or two now. You wished they weren’t so that this release might have felt more satisfying. 

You collapsed into Kidd, who kept his arm wrapped around you, bringing you into his chest. 

“Shh, Y/n, I’ve got ya’ lassie,” he said, voice wavering. 

“Kidd,” you said, wincing as you tried to sit up, “The map-”

“Don’t worry about the map,” he said, picking you up off the ground, “I’m getting you on board. I’ve already called Killer, he’s meeting us about half a mile away.” 

He sat up against the wall, legs spread sort and placed you in between them, your chest against his back. 

“Let me see your hands,” he said. 

You placed your hands in the palm of his metal one, shutting your eyes and he cracked the sea stone around your wrist. The cuffs fell off in pieces around you. 

He stood up, taking you in his arms, “How ya’ feeling?”

You coughed, the change in positions overwhelming you, “Like a million bucks.” 

“Atta girl.” 

Everything was muddy, your awareness, your vision, your memory. You clung to Kidd’s neck, tucking your head into his chest. His heart ached- you were scared. 

“You’re alright, Y/n. I’ve got ya’,” he said, “Won’t let anything happen to ya’.” 

You nodded, but your body refused to relax. At any moment, you told yourself, you were going to open your eyes and be back in that room. Kidd was your lifeline, a solid, physical reminder that you were safe now. 

Killer was understandably furious when he saw the two of you climbing on board, Kidd with some cuts and bruises and you, barely conscious in his arms. He was smart enough to put two and two together and realize that Kidd had ignored his advice. He was on the verge of telling you two off, but one look at your state kept him quiet. You don’t remember much after that, as you fell in and out of consciousness. A feeling of disgust settled deep within you as your mind replayed the way your captor laid his hands on you, and was only soothed at the memory of Kidd’s touch. Of how gentle he was. The next four days passed in a similar fashion. You were much too out of it to know, but Kidd spent the majority of his time by your side. He established his longest arguing streak with Killer yet, by insulting all of the food he brought you insisting that “she doesn’t like that.” He made sure that you got new blankets every few hours, forcibly making Heat warm each new blanket. No one got much sleep until, finally, Kidd decided you were stable enough and retreated to his office to mope. 

You woke up around an hour after Kidd finally left, and got up later that night after. Killer helped you to your feet. The feeling of the cool wood against your bare feet was relieving. 

“Where to madam?” Killer said.

“His office.I have a word or two for him.”

“Whose idea was it, anyway?” 

“Seriously? Whose idea do you think such a stupid stunt like that was?”

“Fair enough, but you were stupid enough to go along with it.”

“Fair enough.” 

Killer dropped you off in front of your captain’s office. 

“Best of luck,” he said, “And... I'm glad you're okay. You had me worried.”

You gave him a quick hug, “Thanks Kil'.”

You opened the door, closing it behind you. 

Kidd turned around to scowl at you. His prior softness already having been replaced with his usual attitude.

“Can’t be bothered to knock?” 

Your hands balled into fists at your side. You marched across the room toward where he was sitting, and landed a heavy slap across Kidd’s face. He staggered two steps back and landed in his seat.

“Okay, okay,” he muttered, rubbing his cheek, “I deserved that.” 

“I told you! I fucking told you it was a bad idea and that your information was most likely innacurate. You risked my life and, even worse, your own. The crew could’ve lost everything, you selfish asshole!” 

He sat silently in his chair, avoiding eye contact with you. His cheeks were pink, one significantly more so than the other. 

“We should have called Killer like I said to and had another person with us- it was idiotic to have gone into that with just the two of us. Did I mention yet that I told you so? But you refuse to listen to anyone other than yourself, you absolute boar.”

The silence hung heavy in the room and you felt pride swell in your chest- you’d never seen your Captain so quiet before. 

“That was the stupidest decision I’ve seen you make in a long time,” you took a deep breath before reaching in your pocket, “But it paid off.” 

Kidd’s head turned to look at you, confusion was plastered over his face. 

You pulled the map out of your pocket and placed it in front of him. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped slightly. 

“Thanks for the change of clothes,” by the way, you said sarcastically, “I smell great.”

No doubt he had given up on the map the moment he saw you in that room. He took note of the bruises around your wrists and gently grabbed them without thinking. 

“I’m… sorry,” he said, rubbing his thumbs on your wrists.

God, he could be stupid. But there was no one else you’d follow after as readily. 

You crashed into him, wrapping your arms around his neck with tears pooling in your eyes.

“I’m just glad you’re okay!” 

You felt him stiffen, not having expected you to hug him. 

“I was so worried,” you continued, “That something had happened to you.”

He wrapped his arms back around you, sinking into the weight of your embrace. 

“So was I.” 

You heard him sniffling, and rubbed his back gently. 

“Crybaby.” 

“I’m not cryin’,” he said, voice shaking. 

He squeezed you one last time before letting you go. 

You stood up, facing him. His eyeliner was running. 

It was quiet again, though this time it was much more awkward. You’d yelled at him plenty of times before, but never had you embraced like that. Your pink cheeks now matched his. This time you looked away from him. 

You felt a slight pull at the back of your neck and realized Kidd was pulling you by your necklace closer to him. 

You obeyed and sank down into his lap. Your mind was telling you this this was abnormal, an overstepping of boundaries. Kidd was your captain and friend. You shouldn’t be in his lap hugging him. But it felt so natural. Like the most casual thing in the world. 

“I was terrified,” he said quietly, “That I- That we might lose you.”

You rested your cheek against his, savoring how warm it was.

“Can’t get rid of me that easily.” 

“Oh trust me, I know,” he laughed, “You’re a rather tough lassie.”

Your ears perked up at that, and very quickly went red. 

“Oh,” you whispered. 

“What’s that?”

“You were talking about me the other day.”

Kidd paused for a second, “Was I?”

You giggled. 

“She’s a rather tough lassie,” you said, imitating his thick accent, “And a bonnie one at that. A bit too good for me, no?”

“Oi, oi! I was talking about someone else,” he said, his cheeks darkening several shades. 

You pinched his cheeks, “Well, that’s too bad. I would’ve said that I feel the same way.” 

He perked up, “Oh, yeah? How’s about I describe this tough lassie and ya tell me if the description fits.”

You smiled.

“Right, she’s about this tall,” he held up his hand to your standing height, “Sittin’ on my lap, and just about the prettiest girl on the sea. And I owe her enormously for my latest fuck up because if anything had happened to her I’d have gone absolutely mad and jumped right on overboard.” 

Your smile softened, and you stared at him for a moment. 

“Sounds about right,” you said. 

“Well, then.”

You leaned in toward him and moved slowly, just in case. Just in case he changed his mind or wanted to backtrack or wasn’t sure. But your lips touched and your captain showed no signs of regret or hesitation so you deepened the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and savoring how he grabbed onto your hips. The kiss grew more and more heated, his grip on you stronger and stronger. You pulled away for air, gasping for breath. Kidd’s lipstick was smudged, and he brought a thumb up to wipe it off of your lips. His hand rubbed gently up and down your back. Fatigue began to take over as you let yourself indulge in the comfort of Kidd’s presence. Despite having been bedridden for several days your body was still mentally and physically in survival mode. Only now with a strong set of familiar arms wrapped around you could you finally relax. 

You laid your head down onto his shoulder, closing your eyes. 

“Tired?” 

“A bit.” 

“Sleep, lass. I’ll carry you to bed.” 

And you did. 

You woke up the next morning feeling more rested than you had in years, a thanks from your body for the break. 

The bedsheets surrounding you were unfamiliar, not your own. 

But the strong hand draped over your waist answered any questions you had started to form. You wiggled back until you felt your captain’s chest against your back, and held his hand, tucking it under your chin. 

“Mornin’ sweetheart.” 

“Good morning, Kidd.” 

[elliespeach]

tear you apart | ellie williams

˗ˏˋ"if your friends won't watch over you, i will." ´ˎ˗

pairing ellie wiliams x fem reader synopsis ellie owns her own vinyl store and the day you wander in changes both of your lives forever. she quickly becomes infatuated with you, desperate for your love that she believes is meant to be. when things in your life begin to spiral, ellie is there to catch you, but you'd never suspect she was the reason you fell in the first place. heavily heavily based on the book/tv show "you" on netflix wordcount 4k warnings gosh where do i start, stalking both cyber and in person, ellie is obsessive, manipulative, a gaslighter, a pervert lowkey, possessive and easily jealous, she breaks into readers apartment and goes thru your stuff, shes also so delusional like top tier delulu, shes based off joe goldberg so i mean put the pieces together. this is all from her perspective, most if not all of the inner monologue is ellie's thoughts about you, the italics is verbatim what she is thinking in that very moment if that makes sense. like joe, all of her actions are justified in her mind, and she doesn't see anything wrong with them. reader has a dysfunctional family. pls lmk if i am missing something! authors note hi hello hi, i have been so excited to post this!! just wanted to clarify this rn, i am bringing in a LOT of elements from the book and show, especially in this part, if it seems very similar thats why. i don't plan on following the plot line for season one, but i needed a good base to jump off of, dont hate me. n yes, readers best friend is shauna from yellowjackets i couldn't help myself. i needed a girl group, sue me. cat is apart of this girl group, not ellie's ex along w dina, also not ellie's ex in this au lol

fuckin’ trash, ellie thought to herself, looking over the torn up vinyl in her hands. the guy who returned it obviously had no fucking clue how to take care of something. especially something so needing of love. she placed the vinyl down on the counter beside the register before stepping into the back of the store, grabbing her tools of restoration. as she rummaged through a drawer, the familiar bell rang from the front door indicating a new customer, but she ignored it and continued searching for the sandpaper she always left laying around somewhere. the last drawer she opened was the winner, taking her supplies, she emerged from the small room into the front of the store, the beads in the doorway swaying as she walked through them. 

thats when her eyes found you, examining the vinyl left on the counter. you hadn’t noticed her yet, too engrossed in the mishandled vinyl. she watched you for a moment as you looked it over, tracing the scratches that lined it. to ellie, you looked to be the definition of a nice girl. sporting a flowy sundress that laid just below your ass. nice girl who likes attention, she thought to herself, looking you up and down from afar. 

she played it cool, keeping her eyes on the sandpaper and cloth in her hands as she made her way back to the counter. you finally took notice of her when she stood in front of you. “oh, hi,” you smiled brightly, to which ellie looked up. “whoever handled this vinyl should be in jail.” a sense of humor, ellie smiled at you, letting a breathy laugh fall from her lips. and an appreciation for vinyls, rare.

“a life sentence, for sure.” she spoke, and you laughed. a laugh that was genuine, not forced by politeness. 

“can you point me to where i could find a david bowie album, ellie?” you asked sweetly, and she had to remember she wore a name tag. flirting with me and you like david bowie? ellie’s grateful its a tuesday afternoon, the store is dead. giving her more time to talk with you. you, who seemed to never stop smiling at her. 

“against the wall,” she pointed. “third box from the left.” she lets you wander over yourself, taking the time to admire the way you carry yourself. you had a pair of red, heart shaped sunglasses resting on your head. ellie could tell you liked to pay attention to details, it was evident in the way you matched your sunglasses to your dress, and she wondered just how many pairs you owned. both short dresses and uniquely designed sunglasses together. her head tilted at the thought, switching her over chewed gum to the other side of her mouth. 

you rifled through the box as ellie’s gaze pierced your back, although you were seemingly unaware. david bowie, she thought again. not another stuck up gen z who only listens to who is in the top one hundred, no. no, you were special. ellie put her focus onto the vinyl in front of her, slowly dampening it with the cloth before grinding the sandpaper over the scratches. but she kept you in her peripheral vision and she couldn’t help but notice you were struggling to find a specific one, or at least it looked like it. 

“need help?” she asked you, keeping her voice neutral.

your body turned to face her, meeting her eyes and a faux pout on your lips.“i think the only one i want isn’t here, or i’m seriously blind.” 

ellie chuckled, coming out from behind the counter, “my money’s on blind, just organized this box a few days ago.”

you huffed lightly, standing to the side while she approached you and the box. “i can’t find the rise and fall of ziggy stardust, it’s one of my favorites.”

of course it is. ellie barely looked in the box before she saw the album, pulling it out and holding it out for you. “i’ll book your eye appointment,” she said with a light grin. 

“ugh, my hero,” you gushed, taking the album from her hands gently. i’ll always be your hero, but something tells ellie that you didn’t really need her help to begin with. 

“c’mon, i’ll ring you up,” ellie led you back to the register and you placed the vinyl down on the counter lightly.

“promise i won’t do what that guy did,” you joked, reaching into your bag for your wallet. 

ellie almost wishes you would. you’d come in a few days later, apologizing for being so clumsy but asking if she could fix it for you. of course, she would say yes. how could she say no to someone like you? “you couldn’t if you tried, pretty sure he did it on purpose.” 

“what makes you say that?”

“just a hunch,” ellie shrugs, scanning the barcode on the vinyl. 

“maybe his dogs got it, or worse, his kids.” you kept eye contact as you spoke, which shocked ellie. a lot of people would break away, divert conversation, maybe even stay silent all together. but not you. 

“if that guy had kids, i’d feel bad for them,” to a lot of people, this comment would rub them the wrong way, and ellie internally cursed herself for saying it. you’re a sweetheart in her eyes, someone who wouldn’t think things like that, but again, you laughed. the transaction was almost over and she was grasping at straws, so she kept going. “guys like him blame everything on everyone else, i wouldn’t be surprised if his kids actually hated him but,” 

your head tilted, waiting for more. to ellie, it looked like you were hanging onto every word she said. and she relished in it. “–thats only if someone wanted to have kids with him, which i highly doubt.” 

“from what i’m hearing it doesn’t sound like anyone would want to,” you’re trusting my judgment. ellie’s lips curled up with your words, and she bagged the vinyl in a plastic bag. you handed her a credit card, which was decorated with flowers along with your name. and you want me to know your name. you could’ve used cash, the vinyl was less than twenty dollars. but no, ellie knew better and she knew you better. your eyes found the scratched up vinyl yet again, “but you can fix it?” 

ellie swiped the card against her own wishes. she’d give you the whole store if you asked with that pretty smile. “it’ll be back in the box within the hour, why? you like pink floyd?”

“yeah, for the most part. i haven’t listened to that album yet,” 

“i can put it on hold for you.” ellie rushes out, and she feels like she came on too strong. you could easily listen to it on spotify but she reminds herself that you’re in her store for a reason. you probably own a vinyl player, an older model you got off of facebook marketplace because the newer ones don’t match your personality. maybe a pioneer or a yamaha, and now shes thinking about how you probably dance around your room listening to music. your response breaks her from her imagination. 

“that’d be great, thanks ellie,” but she can see it so perfectly in her mind, you’d wear a big t-shirt and a dainty pair of underwear. twirling and spinning about, the t-shirt riding up as you did and as you stood in front of her in that short dress her mind seemed to unravel and she had to clear her throat. 

“anytime–” she tacked your name at the end of her words with a smile, handing back your card which you very quickly put in your wallet. her eyes glanced down for a split second, admiring how the dress pushed your tits together before bringing them back up to your face. 

“aren’t you going to tell me to have a good day?” you teased much to ellie’s enjoyment, reaching out for the bag she was holding for you. 

“have a good day,” your fingers grazed hers, and ellie knew it had to be on purpose. a flirt, and a good one at that.

“you too, ellie. i’ll be back for that album.” 

you left the store as quickly as you came, taking your sweet vanilla scent with you. ellie thought about your interaction all day, it consumed her walk home and when she entered her small apartment she fell to her couch and opened her laptop. 

plugging your name into any and all social medias was easy, who could forget a name like yours? all your accounts were public, and very quickly ellie could tell just what kind of person you were. the sweet girl who loved vinyls who had an addiction to posting online. your twitter was filled with random, obscure thoughts and always with a hashtag at the end of them. from time to time you’d tweet about where you were, and ellie tsk’d out loud to herself. anyone could find you within seconds, you need to be more careful. you seemed to tweet about everything in your life and ellie refreshed the page, wishing to see a post about the cute girl in the vinyl shop who helped you find your favorite album. 

yet, there was nothing. and for a moment it hurt her, but the more she thought about it, it was better you didn’t post about her. that means it was real for you, hope remains. 

facebook provided the basics of your family, although the account was inactive. but your parents who divorced a few years back seemed to only post about your younger siblings, leaving her to wonder if they didn’t approve of your lifestyle in the city. she stalked their pages like it was her job and at this point it felt like it was. she discovered that your two younger siblings went off to college out west and your parents even sold their home to be closer to them while still living separate lives. ellie felt pity for you, how could they just leave you behind? 

your instagram feed was an aesthetic one, pictures posted solely to appease your followers. a pretty sunset here, a mirror selfie there, a quick post about the food from the restaurant just down the road from ellie’s shop. there were also posts about your own art, colorful and detailed, just like yourself. a painting you did was the last thing you posted, but this one wasn’t like your other ones, it was black and white and had a lonely floating balloon in the center and the borders were lined with overlapping words. ellie could make out only a few of them, ‘melancholy’, ‘nobody’, and ‘distress’. 

there were lots of group pictures of you with friends. ellie could see you looked more authentic than them, who all seemed to resemble something out of a factory for young adults. you were a pearl in a sea of clams. 

out of curiosity, ellie brought herself to your friend’s pages as well. she needed to see the types of people you spent time with, seeing if they were someone she would approve of for you. one friend made an appearance more than others and she assumed that was your so-called best friend, a spunky city girl named shauna. her own instagram was like an influencer’s guide to posting online, and she seemed like someone ellie would avoid at all costs. shauna’s posts of you always had you in the background, or if you were directly in the frame it was a candid where shauna looked better. she's making herself look better at your own expense, can't you see that?   

your other friend’s social media were bland and unhelpful. ellie brought herself back to the task at hand. she typed your name into google and watched the loading screen. your name brought up a string of links all connecting back to your art pieces you’ve submitted to local papers and art galleries. an artist in new york city, aren’t you ambitious. maybe your parents didn’t like the instability of being an artist. but yet, you still pursue your passion. its admirable. 

what also popped up was a white pages link, with a few clicks, and a small charge to her credit card she found exactly what she was looking for. there wasn’t much she could do with your phone number, texting you would be creepy. there was no way for her to explain how she got it, so the next best thing was your address. which, lucky for ellie, was only six blocks from her own. 

if she could find it this easily, she needed to make sure that no one else did. which is how she found herself standing across the street from your apartment, peering into the windows that had no blinds, no curtains, no protection from the outside world. you were on full display for all of new york. first thing were doing together is buying you blinds. you were lounging around on your coach, scrolling through your phone and periodically shifting in your spot to get more comfortable. 

it was dark now, and again, luckily for ellie, someone standing on the sidewalk of new york wasn’t a weird thing to do and no one paid her any mind. for days she would stand in the same spot, studying your movements throughout your apartment. sometimes you would go to bed on the early side, but most nights you were fully awake, sipping something out of a purple mug which she could only assume was coffee, and drawing lines on a canvas. 

everytime you would take a break and scroll through your phone, ellie would refresh every social media, waiting for a post. your fingers danced on the keyboard and after a few refreshes on ellie’s end, your twitter had a new post. 

@yndoesartstuff: if anyone has tips on how not to procrastinate finishing a wip, please enlighten me

if you just put down your phone, i’m sure you could get it done.

one night she watched as you dipped your wet brush into the purple mug instead of the designated paint water cup. they didn’t even look similar, but ellie laughed to herself while you groaned, tossing your head back before getting up to dump the liquid out of the mug. this would also be the first night ellie gawked at you while your hands dipped below your shorts, she quickly looked around. no one else seemed to notice that you were pleasing yourself with your own gentle hands and her eyes found you again, sprawled out on your couch. 

your back arched, obviously hitting your sweet spot and ellie swallowed hard. blinds. were getting you blinds. 

some days, ellie was too busy with the store to watch over you and she hated herself for it. too tired to walk the six blocks and instead just looking over your social media again, looking through your friends posts to see if you’ve been up to anything. you had never come back for the album, which ellie had finished nearly two weeks ago now. but tonight, as she locked up the store she knew she was going straight to the sidewalk adjacent from your apartment. 

when she arrived at her usual spot she saw you through the windows and you looked too well put together for a night to yourself. you were dolled up and ellie liked to imagine it was for her, you’d leave your apartment and head to the store for the album you said you’d come back for weeks ago. but her hope was squashed when a cab pulled up outside your apartment and a woman who looked way too old started to walk up the steps to the building and entered the main door. ellie had been here enough to know the general look of your building's inhabitants, and this woman wasn’t one of them. maybe someone's mom, maybe she's visiting a friend. she can’t be here for you. no way. 

but through the windows, with no blinds, she saw you open your door for this woman and welcome her into your home. your mom. it has to be. ellie’s eyebrows narrowed when you pulled this woman into a hug, then pulled back and let your lips kiss hers. okay, so not your mom. who the fuck is this?

ellie, whose eyes were going from her phone to the big windows of your apartment, began to search through your online presence and found no traces of her. this mysterious woman who, now, you seemed to be having a highschool make out session with on your couch, was all over you, touching you, kissing you, and worst of all, pleasing you. that sweet smile that had previously been for ellie, was now for this woman and it made ellie’s stomach turn. but she didn’t leave, instead watched while the two of you began to peel each other's clothes off. 

were getting you blinds and were getting rid of this woman. 

the next day while she opened up her store, she couldn’t help but think about you and this woman. she was frustrated, of course. but she couldn’t blame you, obviously this woman was prying on your weaknesses for her own pleasure. taking advantage of you. it sickened her, and she had to know more. she had been through every following list she could think of and still, this woman was a mystery. and as she refreshed your twitter (a new hobby of hers), a new post popped up. 

@yndoesartstuff: lunch date with @shaunamavisxx never felt so right – at hoppers tavern

seeing that, ellie locked up shop way too early. it was fairly easy to make her way into your apartment, all she had to do was play the part. “sorry, my girlfriend hasn’t given me a key to this door yet,” she said with a friendly smile to your neighbor, who out of the kindness of his heart let her into the building. she waited until he was in his own apartment before picking your lock. 

it smelled like you once she stepped inside, and she let the aroma fill her nose as she walked around. it was messy, canvases piled up everywhere along with dirty paint brushes. clothes lined your floor from the bedroom all the way to the kitchen and she had to force herself not to clean it up for you. she examined your paintings up close, admiring how the strokes on the canvas looked. she noticed you draw a small bird in every corner, the bird is plump, uncolored and holding a small twig. it was your signature, and it matched you so well. but, what she really was after was your laptop, she found it sitting on your unmade bed. 

no password? she was shocked, and made a mental note to tell you that you needed to secure your devices. it’s almost as if you wanted her to search through it to get to know you better, and ellie did just that. it was linked to your phone and as she went through your messages they all seemed to be relatively normal. for someone like you, at least. 

loads of messages from a group chat labeled city gals, and she knew it wasn’t you who had named it being as you were funnier than that, and less basic. scrolling up, all the conversation in the chat was merely nothing of note, no mention of this woman to your friends which ellie found odd. maybe just a hookup? but even then, wouldn’t you tell your friends? 

ellie could gauge your friends' personalities through the texts they would send, shauna was most definitely the unnamed leader of this group, probably also the one who named the chat. her texts were mostly about planning activities, meanwhile the others just tacked on with fake enthusiastic responses. even yourself. 

leaving the group chat, she continued to scroll down your messages and found an unsaved phone number which seemed to be the winner. you don’t have her number saved, this is good. a lot of your texts to her went unanswered, left on seen and only responded once you’d ask for her to come over. that usually generated a reply within minutes from this woman, who ellie still didn’t know the name of. it angered her even further, realizing she was just toying you along. only using you for your body when you were so much more than that. 

ellie jotted down the unsaved number into her notes app, saving it for later when she could find out just exactly who this woman was. it was clear from the texts that she wanted nothing to do with you, and you still kept texting her like a sad puppy. it was pathetic, really, but ellie didn’t judge. she knew that your attention seeking habits were brought on by your dysfunctional family, she just wished it was her on the receiving end.

she found herself in your emails and saw you had an abundant amount of unread ones. it was a lot of spam and a waste of time, so she moved on. she decided it was best to go into your search history, restaurants, art galleries that allowed online submissions, sometimes even silly questions that ellie would most definitely answer for you if you asked. 

“how do magicians do their cutting in half tricks?” you would ask her from the couch while ellie made you both dinner. 

she’d call out from the stove, “there’s a fake table, the girl puts her legs through that. the legs you see on the other end are fake, baby.” and you would giggle sweetly as you always did, thanking her for being a know-it-all. 

but as she continued to scroll further and further down your search history, she saw that the day you two had met, you googled “vinyl stores near me” and ellie’s was the first to pop up. she thanked every star in the universe for such a coincidence, but the more she thought about it, it couldn’t have been a coincidence because to her, it was always meant to be.  

suddenly your laptop dinged and a new message appeared at the top from city gals. it was shauna and she was proposing a night out and it didn’t take long at all for the rest of the chat to respond. 

shauna: drinks at our favorite spot tonight?

dina: totally what time 

shauna: like 8 ish? 

cat: sounds good to me

shauna: im with our heavy drinker, she says yes too!! see u guys then

dina: hangin w out us :( rude 

cat: yeah wtf 

shauna: oh hush its no biggie, we’ll see you guys tonight 

ellie sat back as the texts rolled in, heavy drinker? ellie didn’t like the sound of it, and your friends seemed to think it was funny. bet they don’t even watch over you when you’re plastered, leaving you alone where anyone could hurt you. a few clicks on your instagram and she found a group mirror picture in a dirty bar bathroom, and the location clear as day at the top of the post. she confirmed it with a few other pictures and a deep dive of your twitter. gotta stop putting your location everywhere. 

ellie knew your lunch date with shauna would be ending soon and you’d return home to start getting ready for the evening. she shut your laptop down, placing it exactly where it was on the bed before and started towards the door to leave. as she was on her way out, a bright red thong caught her eye. it was so carelessly thrown between the couch and the table next to it and she stuffed them into her pocket before locking the door behind her on the way out. she knew you’d never notice, your apartment already looked like a tornado had been through it seven times over. 

she played with the string of fabric in her pocket as she walked down the sidewalk back to her place, contemplating the night to come. if your friends won't watch over you, i will.

read part two here :)

[ridreamir]

How about some head cannons for blue berry academy students befriending a new student reader who turns out to be a faller? The reader is from our world and does have at least some memory loss.

And so I might have turned it into a fic and not a list of HCs... lemme know if you want me to rewrite it lol -- it was getting kinda long so this might just be a part one of two if people actually like it. If not I'll just move onto other things :p

With the multi-billion dollar project underway to extend Blueberry Academy's underwater campus, there's been an influx of new students lining up to attend the recently founded institution!

As for you who may or may not have crash-landed in Unova not long ago -you with no credentials- there's no way you could have applied to join the wave of incoming students... had it not been for a string of improbable events that tied you up in some top secret plot.

An unpredicted meteor ripped through the planet's atmosphere in the late hours of night. A burst of unusual green-blue energy had not only been visible to the naked eye, but it set off all the satellite radars in the region. And what stumbled out of the impact zone was the most unlikely part of the story.

... Where... were you? Did you... fall asleep again? Opening your eyes, the cold midnight wilderness flashed alight with an eerie aurora floating close to the ground. The dust was settling, but instead of dispersing into the dirt, it'd been floating up back toward the clear starflecked sky. The surrounding field stood littered with broken shards of... something. They'd been decaying into twinkling flakes light enough to float off the ground — and being that it was pitch black, the only light you had to see was quickly dispersing from the stripped soil and clumps of torn up grass. Once they'd burnt the last of their light, it had left you nothing but one last gentle light source. Registering the mysterious shimmering crystal not far from your face, you sat up, with no proper sense of how you'd got there or what it had been doing on top of you. You must've walked for miles with it in your arms before passing out from exhaustion.

...

You're really asleep again. You tried to cry out, open your eyes. Nothing happened. You tried to feel your fingertips, your breath in and out of your nose. Where is your body? Nothing... happened. The shell forming around you kept out the melded together white silhouettes, but it also kept you in. But a woman burst through the doors, and you couldn't make out here face as she yelled at them to stop. No, all you could make out was the familiar pattern of her earrings. "Can't you see that you can't drill through this?!" She pushed them out of the way, standing between you and their stainless steel tools. "You'll do nothing but hurt the both of them!"

. There's some illegible message displayed on the device you hold in your hands. You look down at it, not remembering what you were doing before.

You can't make out any of the details anymore, but you're unable to look away as you hear the sound effect from pressing the A-button. The symbols warp into familiar letters. You suddenly feel a slightly overshadowing presence behind you. At last, comprehensible text materializes.

"And so you have returned with some pretense of self awareness. Not as you were before, however."

You press the A-button again. "More a shell of what you once were... Something I lament to say likely cannot be reversed." A-button. "Nay, you are not the you that I once knew." You... press it again. "..." It does not speak, so you press it again.

And again.

"I am at a loss as to whether I should mourn a past that has faded into obscurity or feel at peace knowing that you are as ever-changing as the world you left in my charge." You press the button one more time, but the voice seems to hesitate for a moment, thinking of what next to say.

". . . "

"Regardless, I have been awaiting your return for a very long time."

.

.

.

Better to get up and put on your tacky school uniform now than fall back asleep and wait to be dragged out from your boring old dorm room by the scruff.

Being taken as a test subject in the most remote middle-of-the-ocean facility felt more like being held prisoner than enrolling in school. Your homeroom teacher, Ms. Briar, had served as a reminder that the muddy flashes of memories you had of being encased in a living crystal were, in fact, real. She seems to know a lot about the creature you woke up holding, but next to nothing about you. While still mildly annoyed by her poking and prodding, you've warily come to accept that her endless curiosity is not out of cruelty. She is... respectful toward you. Not of your boundaries, but she's fascinated with you in a mild manner that does not immediately endanger your safety. Speaking of, as you sat down and slung your bag over the desk chair, Terapagos came tumbling out, clinking clumsily against the floor. "Aaa-" It cried, stuck on its back. Or, well, not it. He. You quickly scooped him up and set him back on his legs. He's looking up at you, nudging your shoe with his head. His unusually large eyes sparkle as he stares with unmatched innocence, waiting for you to bend over and pick him up. Which you do, knowing the pink haired girl that sits a few rows behind you is vibrating in her seat. "Cute... so cute..." She's mumbling under her breath. Ever since you 'enrolled' she'd done nothing but stare at your companion, which he seemed to find uncomfortable if the pulling at your shoelace wasn't enough to convey that fact. "Alright, little guy, alright. I'm on it." You huff, gently plucking him off the ground with two hands. He cries out in joy and she suddenly clutches her heart, falling backward out of her seat.

...

Nobody here talks to you. Not because they haven't tried, but because every attempt has been met with you either pretending you hadn't heard them or getting up and walking out the classroom. All Briar had to do was take the attendance. They couldn't necessarily threaten you into forced bonding with others. No, your real confinement was having to go into the terrarium and complete menial tasks for the equivalent of money just so you could buy food and school supplies. You didn't even want to be here, you just didn't have anywhere better to go. Apparently they just wanted to protect you for the time being, but there's no way in hell you'd believe that's why they sent you into glorified solitary confinement in the middle of the ocean. Everyone else had permission to come and go whensoever they pleased.

No, your only equals here were your few Pokemon friends. The researchers might've claimed to be keeping your friends in the terrarium for the sake of their health and the preservation of the outside world it mimicked, but you'd never believe in their so called pure intentions. No, this was a pretty little garden for outsiders looking in, and a cage too small for ornate living decorations like you.

Terapagos had been your only one constant since day one, and he was wary of most other people. You trusted his judgement the most. Most other people. The lunch ladies were apparently the saints of the Pokemon world. The food staff are genuinely kind, and Terapagos is a fiend for all types of Pokemon confections you're quickly learning. They've told you that most Pokemon have a taste preference, but not your special little pal, though the poor thing had such a tiny stomach that does not match his monstrous appetite at all.

There's one other person Terapagos had once been intent on pestering in at the cafeteria, but was quickly distracted by another helping of berries and whipped cream.

Compliments to the hardworking Alcremie in the kitchen, they were the only ones who could truly keep his menace at bay... You were endlessly thankful for the distraction, anyway. You wouldn't have known what to do if he'd marched right on up to the four of them chatting amongst themselves over lunch. Red haired dude. Pink haired girl. Scary four eyes. Annoying dragon jerk. Everyone knew who they were. Those were the most problematic trainers in all the Academy.

[ohraicodoll]

i see a prompt request 👀 what about “stop trying to help me it’s just hurting you” with feral reader… maybe joel is the one helping her with the adjustment to settlement life in wyoming? or they’re out on a run and she gets hurt? anything tbh you decide

Yesssss I am all for this one. I had some downtime and managed to write this so fast. So have some angst and maybe some lore and both of them fighting lol

Left Behind Joel Miller x f!Reader/OFC The Last of Us 2.5k Words (3rd POV) (Lots of callbacks to Monsters but not necessary to read first. Feral Reader's name is used sparingly so yes, she's technically more an OFC as you get lore in this one) Summary: Settling into life in Jackson wasn't going so easily and Joel is hit with the possibility she may not be welcomed to stay.

“Joel, she’s trouble, man,” Tommy ran a hand through his hand exasperatedly, pacing the hard packed ground in front of both their homes, “I know shit was rough out there. Hell, the three of you were practically hissing at everyone when you came through that first time, but it’s been a couple months. She’s scaring half the town and you’re scaring the other half acting like her goddamn guard dog.”

The older Miller brother clenched his jaw, hands on his hips and trying not to show how much his split open knuckles smarted, “I wouldn’t have to if those assholes would stop treating her like a fucking pariah or giving her shit every time she tries to stand up for herself.” “You have got to admit it’s not exactly like she’s giving them much reason not to act that way,” Tommy sighed and spread his hands pleadingly, “She threatened to stab Johnny at the lumberyard through his hand for looking at her weird, not to mention I’ve already had to take her off patrol duty with anyone but you after she beat Grant-” “That boy learned the hard way to keep his hands to himself,” Joel cut him off.

Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head, before glancing back at his house where his very pregnant wife currently was, “Brother, I can’t have her acting this way. I get it’s not perfect here, but we can’t have trouble like this. Maria…she’s already considering that if Red doesn't get her shit together she may not be welcome to stay.” Silence fell between the two, boiling and tense. He didn’t have to even look up to know the look on his older brother’s face at his words, could feel it as if flames were on his skin. It was like lighting a match around gasoline, waiting for the whole thing to ignite. He knew that as much as his brother cared about the young girl in his charge, he also cared about the woman that came along with them. And when Joel Miller cared about something, he’d go through hell for them. “That’s not gonna happen,” Joel bit out harshly, snarling. His irises had darkened to almost black, the hints of hazel swallowed almost entirely. His body was tight, a wire begging to snap. But the younger of the two could only shake his head, feeling lost and unable to comprehend what to do. Torn between the home he had helped create and protect, his wife who had the weight of the community on her shoulders while preparing to give birth to his first kid, and his brother’s protectiveness over the rough woman currently inside the house. “Just get it sorted. Talk to her. My hands are tied, I can only do so much,” Tommy sighed, turning and heading back across the lot to his own home and life. Joel didn’t watch him leave. His eyes were trained on the ground, blood roaring in his ears as he replayed the words over and over again. They were considering kicking Red out. He’d dragged her all over the country, to Wyoming then Colorado and Salt Lake and back to Jackson, forcing her to settle down only for her to get kicked out. He knew she was having a hard time. She’d never stayed in a QZ, had stayed out in the world too long alone or with the wrong people and didn’t know how to deal with a community like this. Normal people who didn’t have to tear each other apart for scraps. While he and Ellie didn’t have the smoothest transition and were still rough around the edges, they’d managed while the woman had hit wall after wall. She was defensive, quick to react and bare her teeth. It was fine out beyond the gates but inside Jackson where everyone was trying to find a new normal it had caused issues. One of the steel workers was Grant’s brother and hadn’t taken kindly to her beating the shit out of him. He had refused to give her some parts they needed for the house and then called her a bitch when she’d slapped his payment down and went to snatch the items. But he hadn’t registered Joel around the corner listening and before they all knew it his fist was flying into the man’s face. He’d have done more if Tommy hadn’t broken them up. But his brother was right and she did have a reputation, had scared a lot more than half the town. He’d seen the way mothers had pulled their kids away or the looks some of the guardsmen gave her. Ellie had told off more than a few, shouting across the plaza when she’d catch it, defensive. He’d watched Red shrink in the settlement, only fully confident like she usually was outside of Jackson. He’d figure it out. He had to. 

With a deep sigh, he turned and went inside. Ellie had been sent to take care of the errands and get the groceries they both knew Red wouldn’t be able to get. The teenager was understanding and was doing the best she could to help, keeping any complaints to herself or to him when they were alone to not burden the woman. She was as protective of her as he was of both of them. The house was quiet. It was all something he was still getting used to. Having a house again, a home where he didn’t have to worry about getting attacked or FEDRA raids, no more furniture salvaged from garbage dumps and pipes that rattled without a drop of hot water. Jackson made it easy to get comfortable, to feel like it was before the world was ravaged. Easy for him at least. He paused and waited a moment, hearing the almost imperceptible sound of breathing on his good side before he rounded the kitchen counter and looked down. Red sat on the tiled floor, knees pulled up to her chest, head resting back against the cabinet doors. Her face was blank but he’d learned to read the small hints of thoughts on her face. Lips pressed tight, eyes focusing on her nails even as he hovered. She’d heard. He knew she had. “Should I start packing my bag now or wait for Maria to give me the word?” she chewed on her lip, feigning nonchalance. “Neither. You ain’t going nowhere,” Joel bit out with a furrowed brow. She laughed humorlessly, mouth turning into a grimace, “That’s not up to you, Tex.” Those eyes looked up finally, met his, and he could see the resignation there. This wasn’t something she was going to fight if they made her leave. She’d do it and he knew why, knew it was for them, but refused to accept it. “Like hell it ain’t.” “Stop,” abruptly getting to her feet, she hissed at him, “Just stop it. Stop trying to help me. It’s only hurting you and Ellie. You have actual family here, Joel. Flesh and blood family. You could murder someone and they’d still keep you here and Ellie as well, but I’m a liability. To you, to her, to all of them. I get it.” “I don’t give a fuck if you get it, Red,” Joel was angry, getting into her face, “They’re not kicking you out. End of conversation.” “Not end of fucking conversation,” she growled, “I’m not risking yours and Ellie’s only chance at a safe, stable life. If that means I go back out there then so be it.”

“God, you’re so fuckin’ stubborn sometimes,” he all but yelled through his teeth. A laugh tore from her, sharp and loud, her brow raised, “Oh that’s hilarious coming from you.” He wanted to beat his fist through the fucking wall, pick up a glass and shatter it if only to release some of the frustration dealing with her gave him. That damn martyrdom that he hadn’t ever been able to get rid of, scream out of her no matter how many times he told her to stop it. She was so willing to throw herself away for his or Ellie’s sake as if what happened to her didn’t matter and it drove him insane every single time. “You better quit that shit,” Joel ground out between clenched teeth, “That stupid fucking selfless bullshit. For what? As punishment because you lost some people? That…fucking Harry you were with?” He hadn’t ever brought up the name she had mentioned once because he knew what it was like for someone to bring up the past. She hadn’t offered much of her background and he never asked, but there had been small moments. That name had stuck in his brain though, like the little stars tattooed on her collarbone and the “love ya” on her skin in someone else’s handwriting. 

The silence following his words were deafening, all emotion wiped off her face. It was as if someone had scrubbed away anything that made her a person, human, in seconds. 

Then something darker took over and twisted and she smiled, a showing of teeth, and eyes so hollow they seemed like caverns, “Is that what you think? That I’m punishing myself over some boyfriend that died when the world fell apart as if most of the fucking population didn’t also die too? That I’m what? A sad little heartbroken girl pining over some lost love?” A laugh left her lips and it felt like poison, dripping venom. He clenched his fist, anger burning hot, but he knew better than to say anything or approach her when she was like this. Dangerous. Sometimes she was so dangerous he wondered how he had ever thought it was safe to turn his back on her. “That’s real sweet, Tex…I shot him, you know?” she laughed again, not a bit of humor on her face, “Not because he was infected. No. He wasn’t even bit, didn’t have a scratch on him. He was fully alive and healthy before I blew his face right off.” She’d mentioned the man’s name long ago on the road when they’d gotten drunk out. It had slipped out of her covered in pain and regret, Harry and her younger sister, how she'd been barely starting her life when the apocalypse hit. A singer. Ellie had mentioned she had been trying to be a singer and he’d always pictured a bright eyed girl unprepared for what was to come. He had wondered if that death had been what had broken her, guttered her and tore out her soul to the point she lived on instinct only, how that girl had become the hissing creature before him. Now he wasn’t so sure.

Stepping closer to him, he resisted the urge to back away, to show that he was like the rest of them and scared of her too. She almost smiled wider and he knew she was expecting him to, a test almost, “You see we were on a run. Harry, me, and Annie. Spooked some runners so we booked it out of the building because back then I wasn’t much of a fighter, hadn’t learned yet. So I trusted him to keep us safe. Yet, lo and behold, when we get through the front door and I turn around, I see him.” Her words were made of broken glass that cut her apart and made her mouth bleed, devastation and rage coating each one but he didn’t move or try to comfort her lest he got cut too, “Harry had shoved my sister behind so he could get through first then shut the door in her face. I watched them through the glass tear her apart, screaming my name, because I had trusted him to have her back. Instead he got her killed. So I killed him.”

There was no smile then.  He remembers how they met. Ellie had fallen behind while running from scavengers because he hadn’t put her in front of him. It had been Red who had saved her and like a missing puzzle piece, he could see the picture come together. Knowing her now and how it wasn’t normal for her to go out of her way to help strangers, but she’d helped them.

Because Annie had fallen behind once before and she couldn’t save her. Blamed herself for her death.

“It was my fault and I’ll be damned if I ruin both of your chances at staying here where you are safer. Not because of me,” the snarl had left her face, hackles dropping until just the woman was left. Exhausted and a little sad and lost. It’d broken her, he knew that. In the same way Sarah’s death had left him a shell. But he’d kept going for Tommy, Tess, and eventually Ellie.

She hadn’t had anyone until them and now she thought she was putting them at risk.

Joel frowned and stepped forward, their chests almost pressed together, before cupping her face between his hands. His knuckles were bruised and bloody still, but neither of them cared, had never cared about getting blood on the other, “I hate to break it to you, darlin’, but if you think after that I’d still let you go then you’re wrong. I learned my lesson last time we were in Jackson. We stick together. No one’s getting left behind.”

Her eyes squeezed shut, a broken sigh leaving her lips. Her hands came up and gripped his waist, fingers wrapping around his belt tightly like he was a lifeline. Resignation wrapped her entirely in its embrace and he knew the fight had gone out of her, “I…I don’t know how to be around these people. There’s too many of them and they all stare…I’m going to mess up.”

The admission brought a slight smile to his lips, a crack in the defense she had attempted to put between them and a sign that she was giving in, “Well I think as long as you don’t try to maul or kill anyone and maybe limit to punching one or two people a month, that’ll be good enough.”

She huffed exasperatedly, head falling forward and leaning against his chest. His thumb traced her cheek, the other combing through the tangled mess that was her hair. For all she used to gripe at Ellie for taking care of her own, she wasn’t much better. But the strands were still soft and he took advantage of it when he could, feeling her relax against him.

“I’ll talk to Tommy and Maria. You just give yourself time to adjust and try,” Joel murmured, “We’ll figure it out, but you’re not going anywhere.” She nodded against him and at last wrapped her arms fully around his body, sinking into him while he held her tightly back. They both stayed there for a while, arms tight, standing in the middle of the kitchen.

Joel would pull every string, get every ounce of leverage he could get to ensure she stayed. No one was going to take her away from them.

[cosmicstarlatte]

Manhandling Them (Obey Me!)

━━━━━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━━━━━

Look at you manhandling your favorite demon. Nice.

»Characters: Demon Bros

»Tags: Shitpost, Mildly Suggestive, Jealousy, Dom vibes I guess lol , GN Reader/MC

»Notes: I had my OC in mind for this since he's a big guy but this could work for anyone, bc hc in a hc, you're super strong in this world OKAY!?!?♡

Lucifer:

This old man never takes a fucking break. You find him working late into the night, fighting the sleep he very much needs. You tell him to go rest and continue the work tomorrow. He refuses of course because why would he ever take an order from you? "Oh? Nope! You're done for tonight. Up we go!" You say as you pull him out from his office chair and toss him over your shoulder.

What...what is happening?

[Fighting Status: Engaged]

Shifts into demon form and starts flailing around, yet it does nothing to you

"Put me down this instant!"

You just pat his wings down soothingly trying to calm him down

"Dont ruffle your feathers Luci, this is for your own good. Also if you continue like that, your brothers will come investigate."

He stopped flailing and looked torn: continue to fight or be seen in such a position? There's also the third option, your death

While he was thinking you continued to pat his wings and heard a small purr

winner winner chicken dinnerrrr what have we here!?

"Aw see I knew you'd like it! Alright off to bed!" You say carrying him to his room

"...Maybe I am a little tired...and this might not be the worst thing in the world." He said, absolutely defeated

Since then, it doesn't happen often, but he will let you carry him to bed if he's absolutely drained and no one else is around to see

[Taming the beast: Achieved]

Mammon:

"Mammon we need to go now or we will be late for dinner!" You yelled at him as he continued to bargain with the shopkeeper. He yelled back saying it would only be another minute...taking another 5 minutes. Enough is enough. You grab him and carry him out, bridal style.

One second he's talking to the shopkeeper, the next he's being lifted into the air

"AH! HEY!"

Shifts into demon form and notices it's you and not some stranger

Shifts back into his human form

🍅.jpg

"W-what is this!? P-put me down!" He said as he wrapped his arms tighter around your neck

"Mm, maybe if you kiss me on the cheek?"

"ARE YOU CRAZY!? THE GREAT MAMMON OBEYS NO ONE!"

He continued to complain but did absolutely nothing to try to get out of your arms

He let out an annoyed huff when you guys got home...you were sure it was because he didn't want to come down

Now, he occasionally takes long at places so you could carry him...it's obvious when he keeps looking back to check if you'll get him

You caught on of course, but hey, he's your little tsundere demon

Levi:

"I'm not going to RAD today!" He yelled from his room. The hell he is, you kicked his door down and he screamed. You roughly pulled him from his tub and tossed him over your shoulder like a sack of potatoes, heading towards his closet.

"WWWWHAAAAAATISGOINGONNNN!?"

[Levi demon thrasher mode activated]

He was so confused and turned on by the sudden morning events

"Hey, hey! LEVI, stop it!"

He complied immediately and stopped struggling, you pat him gently while he still tried to understand what made you come in there so rough today

"That's a good demon!"

His tail swished around excitedly at your praise...this morning was something he never expected in his wildest dreams

Subby boy is subby™️

"Oh you like this a lot don't you? I guess I'll come get you more often."

"W-will this be an everyday thing!?" say yes say yes say yes say-

After that day, he still hesitated to ask for piggyback rides or anything else but you know the look and happily scoop him up every time

Please toss him around more, he loves it

Especially when you're rough

Satan:

Lucifer and Satan fighting was nothing new, but you just didn't have the energy to hear them today. So what better way than to just take one of them from the other? "Come here kitty!" You say, wrapping your arms around Satan and pulling him up against your body, carrying him to the manor library. 

He shifted into demon form in an instant

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?!? LET ME DOWN!"

He wasn't sure how your grip was so strong as he continued to try to pull away from you

And he also didn't understand why it felt so good to be carried by you

You patted him and told him to let the anger go and just enjoy the rest of the night with you

He stopped struggling but felt conflicted by what he was feeling especially since Lucifer looked so pleased when you two left

But this does feel good...and you chose him to hang out with

"Tch."

"Fine I'll put you down and-"

"No. You brought this upon yourself. Now continue to the library." He held on tighter

You smirked and he opened his mouth to argue but huffed instead

He was...actually impressed by your boldness and wouldn't mind being manhandled like that again

Just not when he's fighting with Lucifer please

Asmo:

Everyday his fans crowded him and 80% of the time, it was okay with you. Today though you just really wanted to go home quickly with him but his fans intercepted. Yeah no, you just weren't having it today. "Sorry guys we have to go home now." You say and tug on Asmo's hand. "Mm I don't know, it shouldn't take too long-" he starts. You raise an eyebrow at Asmo and end up tossing the Avatar of Lust over your shoulder, jogging away from the gawking crowd.

What just happened?

He squeals excitedly

"Oh I like this!♡"

He was surprised by your sudden action as you've never carried him before

Especially something so...possessive? In front of other RAD students!?

He was gushing

"Should I expect this more often!?"

"Yeah, probably. I should've done this a while ago." You admitted

Devildom Pictures Presents: Asmo, the Avatar of Blushing

He made himself comfortable and chatted with you while on the way home

The two of you ignored the looks of others but photos were definitely taken and posted to gossip sites

After that day he loved asking for piggyback rides and being carried around, he let you know how much he loved it every time

Beel:

Lucifer entrusted you to guard the fridge from Beel and so you did. "Sorry, Beel!" You tell the gluttonous beast. "Eh? I'm hungry now...I just want a little food..." He tried to walk around you to reach the fridge and that's when you scoop him up flawlessly, bridal style. You carried him away from the kitchen.

???

He did not foresee this ever happening

He could only blankly stare at you as you carried him further and further away from the kitchen

He actually really liked it but was worried about his weight

"You should put me down. You might get hurt."

"Did you not see how easily I scooped you up? This is nothing."

Beel smiled and went with it, completely forgetting about the fridge

"Can we do this more often?"

"Was already planning on it big guy!"

His heart flipped! After all, no one, even in the celestial realm, ever held him like this

And the fact that it was you, made it a million times better

The two of you settled on the couch while he stayed in your lap and cuddled with you until dinner time

(1) New Text from Lucifer : You did well. I'm counting on you for next time.

Belphie:

"You can't make me move!" Belphie muttered half asleep. He had a habit of falling asleep in weird places around the house and for some reason he chose the front of your bedroom door. You nudged him with your foot and he went back to snoozing on his cow print pillow. Okay, bet. You leaned over him and swiftly picked him up, wrapping his legs around your waist and holding him securely. You finally entered your room.

???

"You're not Beel!?" He said bewildered (and slightly embarrassed) by the sudden realization

"No I'm not and you were blocking my door."

"This feels nice from you. I could get use to this." He murmured happily at the sudden closeness

You roughly toss him onto your bed and he complained about demon abuse and rights

"Ugh! More gently next time!?"

He was still impressed by your use of force, you always surprised him which is why you're his favorite human

Was happy you decided to take a quick nap with him but upset you kicked him out after

"Hmph. You haven't seen the last of me!"

And it was true, he made it more of a habit to sleep in front of your door so you'd carry him inside, sometimes he got you to cuddle with him

He freely asks for piggyback rides if he's particularly drained

⬦You might also like: Flirting With Others︱You ARE The Father

[sunnysam-my]

Hazbin Hotel redesign ideas p. 2

I am a bit of fashion, especially men's, history nerd, and I'm also a bit of radio nerd, so here I go, biblically accurate Alastor.

ALASTOR:

Alastor was a radio host (a radio star?) who lived and died in Louisiana. He was shot during a hunting accident, in the head, somewhere in the 1933, during radio's golden era. He cares greatly about his image and always smiles to show no weaknesses. He hates modern technology and doesn't allow his face to be captured by video recording or non black and white camera. His is mixed-race Creole.

Nothing about Alastor design make sense and it pisses me off. Not only it doesn't fit the time, it also doesn't fit his character! Besides, he is too red. He disappears into the background, especially walls of the Hotel.

Alastor cares about his image greatly, yet his clothes are torn. He is supposed to be like Hannibal, yet he looks like an edgelord wannabe. It's awful. I learned nothing about him from his design, other than "he's and old-time radio deer guy", and that's really bad.

Fashion in 30s was inspired by Hollywood, and sport and movies celebrities.

Back and white fashion in this period wasn't that different, at least for men, as long as you weren't poor, but here are some photos of specifically black fashion in 30s. In general I recommend that website if you want to look more into the fashion of this period.

His hair is completely wrong. And it's also really ugly lol. For richer black men a shiny straightening hairstyle was the go to since 1920s. One such style was "the conk" where one would chemically straighten their hair. It left hair shiny, but the process was painful and expensive. It literally could burn your scalp.

Another popular style was the brush wave. It's creating narrow waves rolling on top of head with the sides cut short and smooth. This hairstyle is still present to this day, but nowadays it's done on the whole head.

Other than that, men just wore their hair naturally, but short.

There is no focus on trousers or vest in Alastor's outfit. (Which is wild considering zipper fly was introduced in the early 30s, but was got popular by the mid ’30s). This was time of experimenting a bit with vests. If you wanted to look fancy and/or formal, you would wear a vest. Pants were wide legged, had a high waist and a single pressed line down the center of the leg. Some trouser waistbands were unique in the 1930s, for example a Hollywood waistband trouser. It had an extra wide band with a double row of buttons. They fit very high, overlapping the ribs. they often had netal ring tabs on the sides to tighten the pant to the correct fit without the need for belts or suspenders.

Also, monocle? Really? …Really? Here you go, read this if you're curious. Lots of pictures of glasses included. Glasses stayed essentially the same in 30s as they were in 20s. They were "round with a center bridge in the early years and an upper bridge in the later years. Frames could be tortoiseshell, black plastic, or thin metal." 

Moving on from fashion, because I could never shut up, microphones!

The most probabale one that everyone who is redesigning Al is drawing is a good old classic Carbon mic. It looks like a ring with a metal star and the microphone inside. It can be hand held or a staff.

But, if you wanna draw something different!

Other than Carbon mic there is also a Ribbon microphone (first row) and Moving Coil mic (second row). Unfortunately, they killed Alastor in the best part of the radio golden age, so the mics are still a bit ugly, not gonna lie.

How would I design him:

First things firsts, either he is mixed or he is white, because right now it just feels like a cheep excuse to have an "evil voodoo" character without getting too much backlash. Let's be honest, nobody thought he was a POC and that white face doesn't help. Again, just like I mentioned with Vel, when you're drawing a character with human like skin tone you have to be careful and think how it ties to their race.

Second - fashion. His outfit and hairstyle is a disaster. He has always tried to 'dress to impress', so obviously I would give him well maintained clothing and that 'high quality', formal style. I would give him the dark brown Hollywood trouser with buttons and dark crimson shirt, like dried blood almost. Under a coat or jacket he would have a brow vest, both the same colour as the pants. Highlights would be golden and green or purple. I for one would love to see him start out with a jacket/coat which he stops wearing inside the hotel after he bonds with the people inside it more, but he would still wear it outside and in the finale would put it on again, after his breakdown in the tower. This would show he began to trust the hotel residents a bit before he 'realises his mistake' after the battle. I would give him short haircut, because not even white people wore hair like that. (What in the Karen-core is it supposed to be?). Say goodbye to that monocle. Why is it even there there? Because he is old-timely? What is he, a children's cartoon villain? His design doesn't need more soulless clutter. Give me something that tells me about him as a character. I've seen people give him old radio as teeth or chest and I love it! When it's not too detailed, it's a great idea to make Alastor less like a living human but also less of… just a deer. He just looks like a deer demon. I would keep his shoes, hands and antlers, and give him ears that would fit the hairstyle I would go with.

[Edit: I forgot to mention, I would give him a time accurate hat or a free wavy lock of hair to cover the mark on his forehead where he was shot]

Thirdly, the microphone! My love. I remember the microphone used to be able to talk, but now it doesn't, unless I'm wrong, but I'm pretty sure. Now it's just a weird look staff microphone with an eye and that's about it. But imagine something like a moving coil with the metal sign on top of it were the letters on it change. It could be a way it's communicating, in a simple way. This was it could still have a unique shape. That would have been fun to see. I can certainly imagine it being something of an 'unfiltered voice' of Alastor, where it would change it's writing into "Shut up", "Die" or something like that and he would hit it in a reprimanding way to reverse it to "Smile!". I'm just saying, that's a cool idea.

Well, this took forever to make, I actually forgot about this, so it just sat in my drafts. Anyway, if you want to see brilliant use of costumes and detailed, accurate depiction of fashion (especially black and queer) through history in New Orleans I recommend "Interview With The Vampire" (2022). It's also a great show.

[dem-obscure-imagines]

The Way it Was Before

Bernard the Elf x Reader

Fandom: The Santa Clause

Summary: Something is VERY wrong this Christmas, and it seems you’re the only person in the world who remembers the way things were before. Well, almost the only person. It’s up to you and the Head Elf to save the day before Jack’s wish becomes irreversible.

Note: I was literally possessed by the spirit of Christmas to write this. I still don’t understand how I whipped this up so fast. Also I have a few ideas kicking around for a sequel, so let me know if that’s something you’re interested in! Additionally, I will be uploading this to Ao3, so if you see it on there too, don't worry hahaha

Warnings: Language, a lil violence as a treat (nothing major just literally a few punches lol), a lil angst but a very happy ending <3

Word Count: 14k

Reader is: Female, 23

Well, that was it, then. It was over. You couldn’t help but feel a little torn up about it. You just weren’t cut out for the job, or maybe you didn’t have the magic for it. Whatever the reason, Mother Nature had made it clear. You were not the Spring Enchantress, and this would be your last foray into the Magical Realm for a very long time, if you ever set foot in it again.

Mother Nature had to visit Santa at the North Pole. You weren’t sure why, she didn’t tell you what she was there to pick up, but she did give you some time on your own to explore the Workshop for the last time.

Wanting to get away from the wandering eyes, you found a secluded nook and sat down, resting your head in your hands. You loved the Pole. It was so intricate and beautiful and whimsical and you would never see it again. You’d never step foot in Mother Nature’s Grotto or the Summer Isles, or even Halloweentown.

It hit you all at once and the tears came flowing before you could stop them. You just hoped none of the elves were around to find you. You didn’t want to worry them when they were already so busy.

“(Y/N), right?” a voice asked, drawing your attention to the doorway where he was standing. Bernard, the Head Elf. Your eyes wandered over his shoulder to the sign on the door. Of course, your crying spot had to be directly outside his office. Figured.

“Right. Yeah. Sorry.” You wiped at the tears, trying to compose yourself. You motioned to the door. “I didn’t realize…”

He shook his head. “That’s alright. Is something wrong?”

“I didn’t mean to bother you. I’m sorry, I can—”

“No, you’re no bother at all. Come on in. My couch is a lot comfier than that bench there.” He motioned you forward and you hesitated, but got up and walked into his office, a large, cozy room with forest green walls, hardwood floors, a small fireplace, a cozy couch, and a desk facing it. There was a shelf of snow globes on one wall, a shelf of old leather books on another.

Bernard motioned to the couch and you took a seat while he perched himself on the edge of his desk. He plucked a tissue out of the box and handed it to you, empathy etched in his brown eyes.

“What’s going on?”

“It um…Mother Nature…” You spoke slowly, composing your words. “She said I’m not the Spring Enchantress like she thought. So um…I’m getting my memory wiped and heading back to the Mortal Realm. Tomorrow, I think.”

“Wiped? Like entirely?” Bernard said, horror in his voice.

“I mean, I’ll still know who I was before I started training under her, but…all of the magic stuff, all of this…” You shook your head. “I knew it was all too good to be true.”

“I am so sorry this is happening to you.” He shook his head. “It’s not fair.”

“Yeah…” You nodded, wiping your tears on the tissue he’d given you. “I’m just glad she brought me here one last time. It’s so beautiful here.”

Bernard smiled softly. He reached into his satchel and pulled out a small snow globe, waving a hand over it before handing it to you. “Even if you won’t remember this place…I’d like you to take a piece of it with you.”

You took a shaking breath, more tears flowing at his words, at the sincerity on his face, at the beautiful snow globe he’d given you. You stood to accept it and found yourself hugging him instead, seeking comfort from the most powerful elf in the Pole. His arms wrapped tight around you, comforting you at your most vulnerable.

“Thank you. So much. Even if I don’t remember it, I…I think I’ll still know. That it’s real. That all of this is.”

“Believing is Seeing.” Bernard said, meeting your eyes. “Someday, you’ll remember that.”

You hoped he was right…

THREE YEARS LATER

Leaving your Irish Folklore class, you were absolutely buzzing with ideas. It had been an amazing lesson. Your professor was very knowledgeable on all sorts of legends and fantasy creatures, where they’d come from, how stories about them had started. You, as a writer, were planning on using this knowledge to write an epic fantasy romance. You weren’t sure what exactly it would be about; you were still waiting for it to click, but you were sure it would eventually.

You walked to your favorite coffee shop, a little ways from your apartment, and grabbed a hot cocoa with extra whipped cream, your favorite around this time of year, sitting down with your work at your favorite table in the corner of the shop.

You took out your notebooks, comparing the notes you’d taken in class to the ones you had left over from…before. The inklings, few though they were, that had lingered in your mind, even after Mother Nature, yes, that Mother Nature, had supposedly wiped them all from existence. Granted, there wasn’t very much left from your time with her, just a few things: the Northern Lights dancing across the sky as you…as you…no, see, there it was. Nothing.

That was all that was left, pieces. And the snow globe on your shelf that you knew was more than just a snow globe, but you couldn’t remember why. Or who’d given it to you.

Sometimes you felt crazy, pushing against the walls of your memory, begging it for just one more detail, but that was how it had been for the last three years. You knew you weren’t making it up, that it was more than just fantasy, but you couldn’t tell anyone. Not even your therapist. The looks wouldn’t be worth it.

So you kept these things to yourself, jotting them down to get them out of your head. Or, rather, keeping them safe in case someday Mother Nature came to finish what she started, wiping it all away for good.

You worked on an outline for a short story for your creative writing class, but you didn’t feel all that confident in it. You sipped your cocoa some more, which had cooled to perfection, and opened an article you were supposed to read for your Folklore class. Something about elves. Festive, you thought with a chuckle. It was indeed the season for that, especially since that had been your last class before Christmas. A perfect send-off for the end of the semester.

Once you’d gotten a decent amount of work done, you packed up your stuff and headed back to your apartment, setting your bag in your room. You checked a few things off of your To Do List.

Gleaming on the shelf, your snow globe caught your eye. “Believing is Seeing.” You whispered to yourself, eyebrows knitting together when you did. It sounded familiar, but…you weren’t sure why. Or what it meant.

Down in the living room, your roommates were watching Christmas movies. In a few days, they’d both be headed home for the holidays and you’d be left on your own for a few weeks. You didn’t mind all that much. You did well on your own, in the quiet. You were kind of sad about spending the holidays alone, though.

Maybe you could find a community event to attend. A holiday party or something. Maybe your college would be doing something for the students who were staying. You hoped they’d let you attend even though you were a grad student.

On the TV, a cheesy Hallmark movie played out, the city girl deciding the small town she’d stumbled into was actually the perfect place for her and the handsome lumberjack that worked at the Christmas Tree Farm at the edge of town was actually her soulmate. You chuckled. You didn’t believe in soulmates. Not like that, at least.

“Hey, we’re going to a party tonight. Down at the Kappa House. You want to come?” Your roommate, Cindy, asked.

“Oh! Thank you. I’m alright, though. I’ll order some takeout or something.”

“Alright.” Megan, your other roommate, nodded. “How was your class?”

“Good! Yeah, I’ve just gotta finish this essay and then I’ll be good for the semester.”

“That’s good.” She grinned, sitting cross-legged on the couch.

You sat with the two of them until they got ready to leave, dressed in short red dresses, fishnets, and Santa hats. “Call me if you need a DD.”

“Oh we will.” They giggled, stumbling out the door, each armed with a bottle of cheap wine, leaving you on your own in the apartment. You did as you’d said and ordered some takeout, cranking out the rest of your paper and turning on some Christmas movies. Elf, Home Alone, all of the classics were on.

You felt something in the back of your mind, a little tingle. You froze, staring at the screen. You expected another little piece, a sliver, anything, but the feeling faded as quickly as it came. You sighed, setting your container of Lo Mein on the coffee table. Suddenly, you were tired. Maybe some sleep would help. So, after putting your things away and cleaning up after yourself, you changed into your pajamas and headed to bed.

You stared at the ceiling for a while, trying desperately to jog your memory for the little inkling that was about to emerge earlier, but to no avail. You shook your head and turned onto your side.

Believing is Seeing…

***

The next morning, you felt groggy and decidedly weird. You jotted down the dreams you remembered in your journal and went downstairs to get some breakfast to appease your growling stomach. You poured yourself a bowl of cereal with milk and plopped down in front of the TV, all but dropping it in your lap when you saw what was on the screen.

“Come on up to the North Pole, folks! Christmas Wonderland right at your fingertips! This year, we’re opening our Winter Wonderland Water Park, Hotel, and Resort! Pet the reindeer! Take a photo with an elf! And don’t forget to meet Santa!”

“What the Fuck.”

“Oh! See! I told you! We should go! They have a two for one on the Mistletoe Cruise!” Cindy grinned, hopping over the back of the couch. “Rewind it!”

You did as she said, pausing when the prices were on the screen. It just so happened to be when this so-called Santa was also on screen. Taking one look at him, you could tell something was wrong. His height, his voice, but most of all, his hair, which was frosted and spiked up. He may have been wearing the suit, but that was no Santa.

Chills ran up your arm at the sight of him. No, that was no Santa. That was Jack Frost.

It was coming back to you a little now.

“What…the North Pole…?” You murmured, confused.

“Obviously. What, did your parents never take you as a kid?” Megan asked. “We went all the time when I was growing up.”

“I can’t say they did, no…” You shook your head. No, this was bad. Something was very wrong here. Your stomach sank, veins on fire and chills unending.

You got changed at the speed of light and headed out to town, stopping in the book store next to your favorite coffee shop, where on the front rack was this new Santa’s memoir. It was titled, “Becoming Santa” and you doubted anything in it was anywhere near the truth.

You scooped up a copy of it as well as a book on the history of the Pole. There had to be something in there, some hint, some…someone you could contact. You checked out at the counter and headed next door to the coffee shop, spreading out your books and notes. You grabbed a cocoa with extra whipped cream and a shot of espresso. You knew you’d need the caffeine for whatever lied ahead.

You combed the books extensively, rolling your eyes every paragraph as you waded through Jack’s stuffy memoir. It was…impossible. You couldn’t believe this had all happened overnight. Unless there was magic involved. You cracked open the history of the Pole book, which had pictures, thankfully. You were able to look through and see if there was anyone you recognized. The longer you stared at the pictures, the more it confirmed your suspicions. You had been to the Pole before, but not in the capacity your roommates were discussing. It hadn’t been a theme park, a tacky tourist destination loaded to the brim with money-grabs. No, you had been there when it was a gorgeous, beautiful workshop, full of joy and love and…for lack of better word, Christmas cheer.

A single tear slipped down your cheek and you sat back in your chair, taking it all in. You remembered. Most of it, anyway. There were still bits and pieces that wouldn’t click into place just yet.

“This seat taken?” Someone asked.

You looked up, staring for a long moment as his features came into focus, his kind brown eyes, dark curls, a pointed ear sticking out from under his hat. He was the exact same as the last day you’d seen him, right down to the red tunic embroidered in golden symbols, the tassel necklace around his neck.

You gasped softly. “Bernard?”

Click.

His face split into a grin and a wave of relief swept over him as he all but collapsed into the seat across from you. “Thank the stars. I didn’t think you’d remember me.”

“How could I forget?” You asked, mostly to yourself. You had forgotten him. Well, until now. But it was all coming together. Something about seeing him made everything else, all those loose, scattered pieces, finally come together.

“So far, you’re the only one who remembers.”

“Remembers you?”

“No, remembers…the way things were yesterday.” He lowered his voice and you nodded, eyes wide.

“Okay cool, I’m not crazy. Always nice to know.” You sighed, closing the book and sliding it over to him. “I’ve been looking for…I don’t even know what, to be honest, but I knew it wasn’t right.”

“That’s…yeah.” He nodded, flipping through the book before closing it again.

“So what’s going on?”

“No idea. I was on my way out of the Pole when it hit, which is probably why I was spared. All of the elves…” He shook his head, arms crossed. “I don’t have any magic. I didn’t know where else to go.”

“Why me?” You asked softly, voice breaking at the edges. “How did you find me?”

“I’ve been keeping an eye on you since everything happened. I’m really sorry. What happened to you isn’t fair and I understand if you want to stay out of it, but I need your help. You’re the only person I have left.”

“I was on your team the second you sat down.” You told him, earning a tired smile. “So I did find…something. Um…Santa. Our Santa, I mean. When did he…?”

“He put on the coat in 1994.” Bernard replied with certainty.

“Okay that’s not good.” You opened Jack’s memoir to his origin story, in which he claimed to have become aware of his Santa Powers in the same year on the same night. “That never happened. Jack…he must have gone back in time and overwritten things.”

“How would he even have done something like that?” Bernard asked, taking the book from you and reading through the section you’d underlined.

“Father Time,” you mumbled. “Maybe he did something to Father Time.”

“Maybe.” Bernard nodded. “He’s in London. Big Ben. We can head there. But first, we need to find our Santa and pray that he remembers too. If not, our goose may already be cooked.”

***

Bernard ordered a drink for himself and the two of you left the shop, sticking a nice tip in the jar on the way out. You led Bernard to your apartment. Your roommates were still there, buzzing about their impending trip to the North Pole.

“I thought you guys were going home to see your families for the holidays.” You said, prying to see just how much they had changed in this new reality.

“Oh right, right, we were, but this deal is just too good to pass up, you know? My parents will understand. We’ll just celebrate…over spring break or something.”

“Yeah, yeah same. It’ll be fine, I’ll just mail them their presents.” Megan agreed, going right back to vacation planning with Cindy.

You gave Bernard a look that he returned before the two of you went up to your room. You pulled open your laptop and sat on the floor, Bernard looking around your room, eyes careful, admiring every detail until he found it, the snow globe he’d given you still sitting on the shelf.

He smiled softly, picking it up and giving it a shake before setting it back. “You still have it.”

“Of course I do. I’ve had it in all of my apartments. I don’t move anywhere without it.” You smiled and paused, thinking. “Did you…use your magic on it when you gave it to me? Maybe that’s what’s bringing my memory back.”

“No, I only used my magic to inscribe the plaque.” He explained, pointing to where the words were inscribed in curling cursive words, Believing is Seeing. “Something else is protecting your memory, even now.”

“Mother Nature?” You wondered quietly. Then again, if she wanted to protect your memories, why would she have wiped them in the first place? It didn’t make sense, so instead, you turned your attention to Google. “Alright, what’s Santa’s government name? As long as Jack didn’t kill him, we should be able to find him.”

“Scott. Scott Calvin.” Bernard replied, sitting on the carpet beside you, leg brushing against yours. “When we found him, he was living in Illinois. He might still be close to there now.”

“Scott Calvin…” You said quietly, typing his name in the search bar along with Illinois to attempt to narrow down the search results. It was common name, but hopefully not too common. You scrolled through hits from Facebook, showing Bernard the profile pictures to see if there was one he recognized. After all, you never saw Santa when he was still human, only as the Big Man himself.

“There! There, that’s him!” Bernard pointed to one of the Scotts. You clicked on his profile and started scrolling.

Marriage Status: Divorced

Employment: Frost Toys, Illinois

“Frost Toys.” You read, sounding deflated. “Even he’s working for Frost.”

“Can you get a phone number? His business phone maybe?”

“Can do.” You hopped onto his LinkedIn and found his contact, punching in the number and handing your phone to Bernard.

He waited while it rang, shaking his head when it booted him to voicemail. There was a long beep and Bernard said, exasperated, “Hey Scott, this is Bernard. If you remember me, remember anything, please call back. We’re going to fix all of this.”

He hung up and handed the phone back to you, looking disappointed.

“It’s okay. It’s gonna be fine.”

“Having trouble believing that at the moment.” He exhaled, frustrated. “This is bad.”

“On a scale of zero to plastic Santa…?”

He chuckled, mood lightening the tiniest bit. “You heard about that?”

“It was the talk of the meeting that month.” You laughed, remembering. Your smile faded when you remembered who else had been at that meeting. Maybe that was where Jack had gotten his messed up little idea of world domination.

“I’d take three of that guy before this.” Bernard shook his head. “What now?”

You thought before shrugging. “I guess we’re going to Illinois.”

“You’re serious? You’re coming with me to get Scott?”

“Or what, let you do this on your own? No way. Help me get some stuff together. I just put gas in my car so we should be good for a while.”

He smiled, getting to his feet and pulling you up after him. “Alright, what do you need?”

As quickly as you could, you gathered up the absolute basics: a pair of pajamas, an extra set of clothes, your toothbrush and toothpaste, your hairbrush, extra fuzzy socks, and a phone charger. Once the two of you were done, you stopped in the kitchen to load up on snacks and drinks for the long car ride, garnering looks from your roommates.

“Hey, who’s the guy?” Cindy asked, having missed him on his way in, apparently.

“I’m Bernard, a friend of (Y/N)’s. We have, uh, History together. History class, that is.” He offered his hand, but neither of them shook it, still too wrapped up in their phones and the cruise tickets they were busy booking.

“Ohhhh, right, I think I remember her mentioning you.” Megan nodded, agreeing. “You two going somewhere?”

“Illinois.”

“Why?” Cindy asked. “What’s in Illinois?”

“We’re going to see The Bean. I’ve heard it’s lovely this time of year.” You shrugged. “Probably cheaper than a North Pole trip, too.”

“The Bean…” Bernard chuckled, shaking his head as he shoved a box of Rice Krispy Treats in the snack bag along with some Hershey Kisses and a bag of Twizzlers.

“Okay, Mr. Sweet Tooth, pack some salty stuff for me,” you muttered, elbowing him.

“Heh, right. Sorry.” He smiled sheepishly, packing a few saltier options that would appeal to your human taste buds.

“We probably won’t be back by the time you two leave, so…lock up good, alright?” You asked, meeting each of their eyes.

You loved your roommates. You knew they weren’t usually like this, dropping literally everything for a vacation. It was something about this timeline. Christmas wasn’t…happy like it was supposed to be. It was a bitter, greedy thing that was pushing these girls, who loved their families very much, away from their loved ones during the holidays. It made you sick.

“You alright?” Bernard asked, noticing the moment you began to space out. The last thing he needed was to lose you, too.

“I’m good, yeah. Let’s go.”

***

Hauling your little suitcase and your bag full of snacks, the two of you walked out of the apartment to where you’d parked your car. Thankfully, it was still there, one of the things the new timeline seemed to have no effect on. You slid your suitcase onto the back seat and Bernard set the bag of snacks on the floor in front of the passenger seat.

You settled into the driver’s seat, turning on the car and adjusting the temperature and the mirrors. Bernard fiddled with the radio, looking for Christmas tunes and finding them, catching the end of White Christmas just in time for an announcement from the radio host.

“We’re playing your favorite Christmas Hits all day, 24/7. That was White Christmas by Michael Bublé, up next, Santa’s new hit single, Come Meet Santa.”

“You’re kidding me.” You groaned as an insufferable song started blaring from the speakers, Jack singing about his fancy new resort at the Pole.

“He’s got the reindeer in a petting zoo?” Bernard asked, disheartened as he listened to the lyrics.

“Oh my god…” You shook your head. “We’ve gotta find Scott.”

You connected your own Christmas playlist to the aux cord, doing away with Jack’s twisted idea of Christmas and set up navigation to the Frost Toys office building in Chicago. You figured even if it wasn’t exact, it would get you close enough to Scott by the time he called you back. Well, you hoped he would. Hope was kind of all the two of you had.

You drove out the front gates of your college campus and started heading towards the highway. “Let me know if you need a bathroom break or anything.”

“Alright.” Bernard nodded, still looking tense.

“Did you…try to call the Pole? I don’t know if there’s a special number for that or…?”

“I did. Customer Service put me on hold.”

You blinked. “Customer Service?”

“Yeah we didn’t have that department yesterday.” Bernard crossed his arms and leaned back against the seat, eyes squeezed shut in what you were sure was the immense stress of the situation. “Sounds like Curtis is in charge up there now, though. It’s like I never existed.”

“Oh.” You said, turning on your blinker to get in the faster lane. “I’m really sorry, Bernard.”

“Yeah, it’s…we’re gonna fix it.” He insisted, repeating your sentiment from earlier. “We have to.”

“We will.” You assured him.

He chuckled darkly. “This whole time, all I’ve been able to think about is how…this…what I’m going through now is what you’ve been going through for the past three years.”

“If it makes you feel better, I didn’t really know what I was missing out on until today.”

“How do you mean?”

“Something about you showing up jogged my memory. Before that, it was just little tiny bits and pieces. If it weren’t for your snow globe, I definitely would have thought I was losing my mind. I remembered Mother Nature and the…role she played in this, I guess, but I could not have told you what she looks like. All I’ve had is the idea of her.”

“And now?”

“Now I remember. Pretty much everything, I think. Santa, the Pole, you, all of it.”

“Well that’s good for us.” Bernard chuckled.

“And when it’s over, I’m sure she’ll just…wipe me all over again.”

“I will see to it myself that that does not happen.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe she ever did that to you to begin with. Lead you on like that just to drop you like nothing happened.”

“Yeah.” You shrugged, letting out a sigh. “I don’t know, I just…like I said to you that day in your office—I think, it’s still a little fuzzy—I always knew it was a little too good to be true. I always felt like I just…I was the puzzle piece that didn’t fit. That there was this big, beautiful, magical world out there, but I wasn’t meant to…be part of it, I guess.”

“I don’t think that’s true.” Bernard shook his head. “I’m 1600 years old and I’ve never met someone who doesn’t have a place. And having met you, I can guarantee you do belong. If Mother Nature can’t see that, then that’s her loss.”

You smiled softly. “Thanks.”

“You know, we can always use a hand in the ornament department.”

“I’d work anywhere you stuck me just to be able to hang out at the Pole again.”

“See, that’s the spirit.” He laughed.

The two of you drove for a handful of hours and you did decide to stop for gas, just to be safe. That, and you were really craving a gas station slushee. So, you filled the tank while Bernard grabbed the two of you some slushees for the rest of the drive down.

While he was standing there, there was a weird, floaty feeling about him. For a moment, his hands began to fade, sparkles taking their place, but as soon as you walked through the doors, the bell jingling above your head, the feeling went away and he exhaled a sigh of relief, feeling solid again.

“You alright?” You asked, voice hushed.

He squeezed his eyes shut, nodding before daring to meet your gaze. Never in his millennia and a half had he ever felt so weak.

“Bernard?”

“I’m fine!” He insisted, raising his voice slightly, but softening when he met your eyes again. “Sorry, I’m…fine.”

“Hang in there.” You whispered, standing closer to him. “I can’t lose you, too.”

He nodded, but didn’t say anything. The two of you went back out to the car, sipping your slushees and turning the Christmas music back on when it was interrupted suddenly by an incoming call.

You looked at Bernard and he reached over, putting the call on speaker. “Hello?”

“Bernard? Is that you?” Santa’s voice came out of the speakers and you sighed in relief.

“Santa? Oh thank the stars.” Bernard closed his eyes, a long breath working out of his lungs.

“What the hell is going on? Where are you?”

“We’re about an hour from Frost Toys. We did some research and found this, uh, new job of yours.”

“Don’t get me started.” He chuckled. “I’ll send my apartment address. Does this number work? Whose phone is this, I didn’t know you had a cell phone.”

“I don’t. It’s a long story, but I’m with a friend and we’re on the way.”

“Good. Well then, I’ll see you two soon. The sooner the better.” Scott sounded very relieved. He hung up and texted over your new destination, which was just a little ways further than the building you were already heading towards.

With new fervor, you pulled out of the gas station and got back on the highway, reaching Scott’s apartment with speeds even Bernard was impressed by. You pulled into the parking garage, got your little orange slip to put on the dash, and took the elevator into the building. Scott buzzed you upstairs and you met him outside the door of the snazzy, modern downtown apartment. At the very least, this timeline had given him a cushy job. He ushered the two of you inside.

“Bernard.” Scott greeted, hugging his Head Elf briefly before the two turned back to you. “I’ve never been so relieved to see you.”

“Likewise.” Bernard sighed.

“And you are…?”

“(Y/N). (Y/N) (L/N).” You introduced, offering your hand. “I don’t expect you to—”

“Oh! You were Mother Nature’s apprentice for a bit, weren’t you?” He asked, remembering.

“Yeah. That was me.” You nodded, deciding to spare him the gritty details. “I’m here to help save Christmas.”

“That might be easier said than done…”

“(Y/N) thinks Jack might have used time travel to do this. We were planning on going to see Father Time to see if any of this is something he can fix, or…or if Jack did something to him and that’s how he accomplished all of this.”

“It wasn’t Father Time.” Scott shook his head. “Jack tricked me with a wishing snow globe. Made me wish I had never been Santa and…took the coat for himself.”

“Oh.” Bernard murmured, nodding. “The Escape Clause. Well that would do it, then.”

“There’s gotta be some way to undo this.” Scott said. “It can’t just be over. This can’t be it. Carol…she doesn’t even know who I am.”

“Mrs. Claus?” You asked softly and he nodded solemnly.

You’d met her on a few occasions and she had always been so nice to you, relieved to have another human-ish woman at the Pole, as she said, which always earned a laugh from you. And now, she was a school principal again at a public school who didn’t believe in Christmas anymore. Even Mrs. Claus wasn’t safe from Jack’s trickery.

“Okay, so…we go to the Pole, then. Get…plane tickets, I guess. My roommates were planning their vacation there when we left, so if they can do it, I’m sure we can.”

“Definitely.” Scott nodded, searching for tickets on his phone.

“We go there, find that snow globe, and undo all of this, set it right, the way it’s supposed to be.” You said, determined.

“You think it’ll work?” Scott asked Bernard and he thought over it for a long time before nodding.

“It has to.”

***

Scott booked three tickets for the earliest flight in the morning, at five. You changed into pajamas so you could attempt to get some sleep, and Bernard put something on the TV. You emerged from Scott’s guest bedroom, face wiped clean of makeup, hair freshly brushed, and cute little penguins on your pajama pants. Bernard grinned.

“What?”

“Penguins?”

“I thought they were cute.” You defended, shrugging as you plopped down on the couch next to him.

“I never said they weren’t.” He shrugged, kicking his feet up on the coffee table.

“Hey, pizza sound good, you two?” Scott called from the kitchen.

“Sounds perfect.” You replied.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Bernard agreed, flipping channels until he found what he was looking for. Ah yes, the Christmas movies. Specifically, the stop-motion Rankin/Bass movies you’d watched during your childhood. Absolute classics.

You gasped, childlike wonder filling your features. “Oh, I love this one.”

“You like these movies?”

“I’ve seen just about all of them, I think. We always used to watch them when I was a kid. These were my childhood. I like them a lot more than the Hallmark movies my roommates are always watching.”

“Rightfully so.” Bernard agreed. “These guys just…got it.”

“Better than anyone else.” You sat criss-cross on the couch. “Riddle me this, Mr. Head Elf, is Rudolph real?”

“Sorry to burst your bubble, (Y/N), but no, he is not.”

“No! What? You’re lying!” You covered your face with your hands. “My life is a lie.”

“I wouldn’t lie about something like that.” He laughed. “Rudolph is not one of our reindeer. The rest all are, though. Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and Vixen.”

“Comet and Cupid and Donner and Blitzen?” You asked.

Bernard smiled, proud. “Precisely.”

“Hey,” Scott held the phone away from his face for a second, covering the microphone with his hand, “pepperoni good? Thin crust?”

“Sounds good to me, Santa.” Bernard gave a thumbs-up. He could not, for the life of him, remember the last time he’d even had pizza.

“Yeah, I love thin crust.” You agreed.

“Great.” He nodded and walked back towards the kitchen again, finalizing the pizza order.

The commercial break hit with, of course, an ad for the North Pole Waterpark and Resort. There were clips of miserable elves playing games in the arcade, forced to work as lifeguards in the waterpark, facilitating the reindeer petting zoo.

You frowned, that familiar feeling of dread settling into your stomach again. This was awful.

“That’s Betty, there, in the green. Third in command. Second, now, I guess. She looks…”

“Miserable.” You finished.

“Yeah.” Bernard nodded. He let out a frustrated shout. “I can’t believe this is happening! Look at them! Look at what he’s done to the Pole!”

Bernard took a shaking breath and slumped back against the couch, his lack of magic hitting him once again and that floaty, sparkly feeling returning.

“Bernard?” You asked, voice rising in concern.

“It’s my magic. The magic of the Pole, of Christmas, everything. Elves are…well, we’re basically made of magic, so if we don’t fix this, and soon…” He shook his head, words trailing off into hopelessness.

“Take some of mine.” You said, quiet, but certain.

He stared at you for a long moment. “What?”

“Take some of my magic.” You told him, more confident this time.

“You still have magic?” He asked, eyebrows furrowing.

“And no idea how to use it, but you do. You need it more than I do right now.”

“O-okay.” He nodded, sitting up a little straighter.

You unfurled your legs, turning to face him. You turned his hands so they were in a receiving position and placed your palms on his, taking a deep breath and closing your eyes to focus yourself, tuning into the fragments of magic still inside of you and then pushing them towards him, through his hands, up his arms, into his chest.

He flinched a little at the feeling, the sharp, cold tingle, but his eyes widened when he saw it, your magic, flowing into him. It was iridescent, teal and purple and pink and blue, waves ebbing and flowing, its gentle glow lighting up your features in the dim room, your hair blowing around softly in the gentle breeze it created.

It looked like the Northern Lights.

He pulled away after a few long moments, stopping the flow. You opened your eyes to look at him.

“Do you feel better?” You asked, concern etched deep in your gaze, pulling at his heart strings in a way he hadn’t felt in centuries.

“A lot better. Thank you,” he said. “But save some for yourself. That might be what’s protecting your memories.”

“Right.” You nodded, thinking. “That makes sense.”

It was quiet, the murmur of the TV the only sound other than Scott in the kitchen, getting dishes out in anticipation of the pizzas arriving, their ceramic clattering against the fancy marble counters you’d spotted on your way in.

You looked at Bernard, really looked at him for the first time. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been crushing on him a little bit, back when you were acquaintances, when he was the knowledgeable, responsible, somewhat stern Head Elf with a heart of gold and you were Mother Nature’s apprentice, vying for a destiny you would not receive.

You remembered the way your heart would lurch when he peeked into the meetings you sat in on, with the rest of the Legendary Figures, and occasionally, the Guardians of the Seasons, if their presence was necessary.

One of the other elves, you were pretty sure her name was Abby, had given you a tour the first time you were there, she’d introduced you to him, and she’d also called to attention the way your cheeks went rosy the moment you walked away from him.

You wondered if he thought of you, if he had those memories too, tucked away someplace special, or if you were just another passerby in his long, long life. Sometimes you almost forgot he was hiding a thousand years behind that youthful face.

Sitting there, you weren’t sure if it was him who started leaning in or you, but it stopped as soon as Scott called for you from the other room, like a scratched record in the middle of a sweet, slow Christmas ballad, pulling you both back down to reality.

“Pizza.” You chuckled, standing up from the couch. Maybe it was the lighting, but you swore Bernard’s cheeks were rosier than they had been before.

“Right. Pizza.”

The two of you walked out to the kitchen together and sat on the barstools pulled up to the counter, grabbing slices of the thin-crust pepperoni.

“So, I booked the North Pole tickets. I also booked us tickets from there to London…Just in case.”

“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence.” Bernard chuckled.

“Hey, you look better.” Scott noted.

“I’m feeling a lot better, too.” Bernard motioned to you. “(Y/N) here still has a few tricks up her sleeve.”

“Good. We’re gonna need all the magic we can get.”

***

You didn’t get very much sleep before your alarm went off. It had been about what you were expecting. You never slept well when you were stressed.

You did, however, have a dream.

You were sitting in a meeting with Mother Nature and the Guardians, the two of them that were left after the Spring Enchantress’ retirement. Of course, you were training up to fill the position, so it wouldn’t remain empty for long.

Mother Nature led the meeting, held in the giant tree at the center of her Grotto, glancing at her watch every few minutes until finally, he showed up. Jack Frost. Even then, chills ran up your spine, though, at the time, you were convinced it was a side effect of his existence in general.

“Sorry I’m late, ladies. Had quite the hold up in Toronto.” He shrugged, sliding into the fifth seat at the round table, a snowflake embedded in the crystalline mosaic on the table’s surface. “What are we talking about?”

“You, actually.” Mother Nature stated, sitting up straighter. “We were wondering how the search for the Aurora was going, since you’ve elected to take on the task yourself.”

“Ah, yes, well, it’s certainly not easy. Winter Guardians don’t just fall from the sky, you know. But I’ve searched all of the places she used to pop up. Hence my overlay in Canada.” Jack shrugged. “And besides, it’s been five centuries since we’ve had one, I think we’re doing just fine without her.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” The Autumn Witch, a gorgeous young woman named Amber Sanderson, interjected, meeting him with her sharp gaze. Her long, curly orange hair was as beautiful as the autumn leaves, brown skin smooth and ageless, even after her thirty or so years on the council. She didn’t look a day over twenty-five.

“Then what would you say, Ms. Sanderson?” Jack countered, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. “If you have a problem with the way I’m running things, I’d prefer if you were forward about it.”

“We have been.” Evangeline Cho agreed, the Summer Sorceress. As her season had just started, she was glowing even more brilliantly than she usually did. “Every year, winter creeps further and further into autumn and spring. And it seems you haven’t done anything to stop it.”

“What, I can’t control that! I’m getting more powerful! It’s merely a side effect.”

“Which is precisely why we need someone on this council who can control their abilities. Such as an Aurora, which you were tasked with finding nearly a century ago, Frost.” Mother Nature stated, her voice cool and even. “If you’d like one of us to find her instead—”

“Oh no, no, that won’t be necessary. I promise you, by next winter, we will have an Aurora again and I’ll go back to managing snow days and frosting window panes.” He drew an X over his heart. “Cross my heart.”

“Excellent.” Mother Nature nodded. “Meeting adjourned.”

You blinked awake in time with Mother Nature’s gavel, staring at the ceiling of Scott’s guest room. That wasn’t a dream. You were certain. It was a memory. You’d have to tell the others.

***

Once your alarm went off, you got dressed and met Scott and Bernard in the entryway of the apartment. Bernard, who hadn’t changed his clothes, had one pointed ear sticking out the brim of his hat, a dead giveaway if there ever was one. You rummaged through your carry on and produced a knitted hat you’d made a few years back, motioning to his ear.

“Oh. Right. Thanks.” He nodded, swapping his usual headwear for the hat you gave him, slipping it on with ease. “Where’d you get this?”

“I made it. I knit.”

He chuckled, checking his reflection to make sure he was covered well. “Well aren’t you just full of surprises?”

“As we’re both learning.”

Scott drove the three of you to the airport and you arrived early, hoping your plane would be a little ahead of schedule, but when you found it was actually delayed an hour, it gave you time to grab drinks at the coffee shop.

“Hot cocoa, shot of espresso, extra whipped cream, please.” You ordered, Bernard just behind you.

“I’ll have the same, but make it a double shot.”

“Coming right up,” the barista nodded, setting to work.

Outside, the sun was just beginning to rise, filling the sky with orange and pink, sunlight glistening on the icicles hanging from the windows. You smiled, appreciating the quiet moment despite the dread looming overhead.

Once your drinks were ready, you joined Scott on a chair near the windows.

“So um, I had a dream last night. I think it was a memory from before.” You said, not sure how else to bring it up.

“What was it about?” Scott asked, curious.

“I was at a meeting with Mother Nature and the Guardians. Jack was there, sitting in for…the Aurora, I guess.”

“The Winter Aurora.” Bernard replied, nodding.

“What is that?” Scott asked, unfamiliar with the term.

“Well, there’s a Guardian for each season, often a woman, gifted with the powers of that specific time of year. They work with their Legendary Figures to oversee the flow of time and ensure everything is on schedule. The Spring Enchantress, the Summer Sorceress, the Autumn Witch, and the Winter Aurora.” Bernard explained. “We haven’t had an Aurora at the Pole in 500 years…”

“Well that would explain why I’ve never heard of her.” Scott nodded, thinking. “So Jack took her job?”

“Yeah, they were talking about his…powers increasing, I’m assuming because he was getting buffed by her powers in addition to his. And how winter is creeping into autumn and spring because of it.”

“That’s not good.” Bernard shook his head. “The seasons have to be balanced. Jack’s hunger for power is messing up the eco system.”

“Mother Nature said he was supposed to be looking for her, and I don’t know…maybe he just…wasn’t looking.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me.” Bernard took a long sip of his cocoa. “I’ll add that to the top of my list as soon as we get everything else back to normal.”

As soon as you finished your drinks, the plane started boarding, so you followed after Scott and onto the plane. Through the windows in the walkway, you could see the plane, giant, winter blue, and emblazoned with a giant picture of Jack Frost’s Santa impression, giving a thumbs-up.

“I’m gonna puke.” You rolled your eyes.

“Ditto.”

The three of you boarded and settled into your seats, all in a row. Scott had brought his laptop along to do some research on the flight. He figured it was better to go in with something of a plan than be blindsided by whatever you found on the other side. You had a feeling the Pole would look a lot different than last you’d seen it.

You settled into the window seat and got as comfortable as you could. For a supposedly luxury flight, the seats were surprisingly stiff. Knowing Jack, you should have expected him to cut corners, even in his power fantasy brought to life.

“How are you feeling about all of this?” Bernard asked, voice soft.

“As well as I can, I guess.” You shrugged. “I’m glad I’m not doing this alone.”

He nodded, eyes meeting yours, soft and serious. “I am, too.”

A lady in a flowery dress walked past, her perfume so strong, you caught a whiff of it from the window seat, its floral scent immediately tickling your nose. You tried your best to suppress the sneeze, but to no avail. You sneezed two times, waiting for a third, but it never came.

“Jeez.” You shook your head, reaching for the Benedryl in your bag.

“What’s that for?”

“My allergies. That lady’s perfume was pretty strong.” You chuckled.

“You have allergies?” Bernard asked, eyes narrowing. “Spring allergies.”

“…Yeah?”

“You have spring allergies and Mother Nature thought you were the new Spring Enchantress?” Bernard asked, looking skeptical. He knew Mother Nature. She was an intelligent, almost all-knowing being. He knew she wouldn’t make a mistake that obvious.

“That part never made sense to me either.” You shrugged.

“She thought you were a Spring, but…you’re obviously more of a Winter. I might be a bit biased, though.” He smirked.

Your heart raced when he said it, the realization hitting you that he was flirting. You were getting hit on by Santa’s Head Elf. That was something not everyone could say.

“I mean, I was born in December. The 21st.”

Suddenly, his flirting demeanor was gone, replaced instead by a look of realization, like you had just given him the last piece of the puzzle he’d been trying to solve since the day you left the Pole. “The Winter Solstice…”

“What was that?”

“Nothing. Let me see that, Santa.” Bernard took the laptop from Scott’s lap desk, clumsily navigating with the mousepad and punching something into the search bar. “Where was it your parents are from, (Y/N)?”

“I grew up in South Carolina. We were supposed to live in Michigan, but Dad got a job opportunity at the last minute, so we moved right after I was born.”

“Whereabouts?”

“Traverse City.”

“Hmm…” Bernard clicked through articles a bit before finding a story that made your heart race. “Is…Is this the house?”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s…Oh my god.” You covered your mouth, reading through the article. Three months after your family had moved out, there had been a freak snow storm that took out half the houses in the neighborhood. And your house had been hit the worst, the roof over what would have been your nursery was caved in completely.

“Jack hasn’t been not looking for the Aurora. He’s been killing her every time she’s popped up.” Bernard concluded, a horrified look on his face.

“Wait. So you’re saying…” You swallowed the lump in your throat. “I’m…”

“Mother Nature appointed you Spring Enchantress to throw him off of your scent.” He said. “That has to be it. It’s the only explanation.”

“Are you sure?” You asked, fingers shaking as you wiped your sweaty palms on your pants. “I…I mean, wouldn’t I know? I’m not…special. Not like that…”

“Are you kidding me?” Bernard asked, incredulous. “You’ve gotta be kidding me. (Y/N), I’ve seen your magic. It’s the only think keeping me alive right now. It…” He reached for your hand, positioning your palm so it was facing upwards and as soon as he did, a wave of stunning Northern Lights glowed between your fingers. “Do you see that? I’ve seen Aurora magic. This is that. I can’t believe I didn’t figure it out sooner…”

“Woah.” Scott muttered, eyes falling on the scene unfolding between the two of you.

You curled your fingers, pulling the magic back into yourself and extinguishing the light. You sat with it for a moment and met Bernard’s gaze. “He tried to kill me.” You murmured, tears brimming in your eyes. “He tried to kill me for…for power? For a title?”

“We’re not going to let him get away with it.” Scott stated, fire in his gaze. “We’re not going to let him get away with any of it.”

You felt a tingling on your head and watched as white trickled from your scalp down to the ends of the piece of hair at the front of your face. Your heart raced and you touched the hair with shaking fingers.

It was real now. You were the Winter Aurora. And you had a feeling the closer you got to the Pole, the more evident that would become…

***

By the time the plane landed, the three of you were settled on a plan. Scott, Jack’s biggest priority, would cause a distraction, buying time for you two. Bernard would find the elves and try to snap them out of it. You, as the only one Jack wouldn’t fully recognize, would go find the snow globe and get it to Scott so he could undo his wish and fix everything.

Was it a perfect plan? No. But it was all you had, so it would have to be enough.

You walked off of the plane together, hoping the streak of white in your hair wouldn’t draw too much attention. Once you were inside the gates, the three of you huddled, finalizing your plan.

“You’re going to be fine on your own? Do you know how to get to the snow globe room?” Scott checked.

“I’m…being here…yeah, I’m definitely gonna be able to find it.” You nodded, still completely blown away by the powerful waves of magic, hitting you all at once for the first time. “It’s all coming back to me.”

Bernard grinned, hopeful. “Good. Good luck.”

“You too. Stay safe. I…I really don’t trust him. What he’s capable of…” You said warily.

The Head Elf shook his head, confident. “Is nothing compared to what you are.”

“Let’s save Christmas.” Scott announced.

The three of you split off. You watched as Bernard and Scott walked away together, Scott playfully nudging Bernard. About what, you couldn’t be certain, but you had a pretty good feeling it had something to do with you.

Cheeks flushed for more reason than one, you took off, following the swirling feeling around your heart, dodging past security elves with a stealth and speed you didn’t know you possessed. It was like muscle memory, suppressed very deep in the core of your being. A power you had never tapped into, but one that was quick to embrace you. You felt it in your soul, the Pole wanted you there, and it was very glad you’d returned.

Following the instructions Scott and Bernard had given you, you walked briskly down the corridors, slinking past bakery elves on their way to one of the many tourist eating spots. The workshop itself sat big and empty, barely an elf in sight. The few that were there looked tired, sad, working on tacky Santa Claus bobble heads and cheap gift shop pens. It broke your heart.

Distant voices echoed against the cavernous halls. In your mind, you heard echoes, too. Laughter and love and light, elves building toys, creating things together, working to make the kids of the world happy, no matter what it took. The workshop had been wrapped in pine trim and string lights, warm and bright.

Now, it sat dark and empty.

You wiped a tear from your cheek and continued down the hall, to where the entrance to the Hall of Snowglobes was. And at its entrance, was Betty, who stared at you for a long moment as though trying to place where she recognized you from, but quickly shook it off.

“You can’t be back here. No visitors allowed. I can escort you back to the main area, though.” She offered, smiling.

“Your name is Betty, right?”

She hesitated. “How did you…? Nevermind that, you’re still not allowed back here.”

“I have to be back here.” You told her. “It’s important. The fate of Christmas depends on it.”

“Well, the fate of Christmas depends on me doing my job, so if you’ll follow me this way.”

“I can’t do that, Betty.” You shook your head. “And I know you don’t want to either. Don’t you see that all of this is wrong? That what Jack’s done to the Pole, the capitalism, the resort, the gift shops, the reindeer in the petting zoo, this is not what Christmas is supposed to be. You know that. I know you know that.”

Betty’s features saddened and for a moment, you thought you’d won her over until she reached for a walkie talkie. “Security, we’ve got a tourist that needs to be removed from the Workshop.”

“Great.” You huffed, summoning your power to your hand, just as Bernard had shown you. But instead of sending a blast of energy at her, you let it slowly waft over, rainbow colors and dancing lights slowly enveloping her. As the magic hit her face, she blinked through it, eyes awash in the pinks and teals and purples. Yet another streak of white flowed through your hair.

She dropped to her knees and stared up at you, tears in her eyes as it all came flooding back. Her voice fell to a whisper. “You’re our Aurora.”

“I am.” You nodded, feeling confident in your title for the first time. “And I need your help. We don’t have much time.”

“Bernard, he’s gone! He—”

“He came here with me. We have to hurry. We need that snow globe.” You told her and she nodded.

You helped Betty to her feet and she ushered you into the Hall of Snowglobes, carefully plucking the little glass orb that had started all of this off of its pedestal and handing it to you. You held it with careful hands, admiring it. It was beautiful, if not absolutely dangerous.

“We’ve gotta get this to Santa.” You told her.

She nodded, following you out of the Workshop and into the bustling center of town, an absolute sensory overload if there ever was one. Tourists packed the streets, vendors were shouting over the noise, and above it all, speakers were blaring Jack’s Christmas Album, each new song worst than the one before it.

There was a massive stage, covered in fake ice and bright lights, and on said stage, was him, Jack Frost in all of his faux Santa glory, his red suit iced at the ends, hair spiked and ridiculous, like icicles. Behind him, was a row of toy soldiers and in their grasp was none other than Bernard, eyes wide in fear as Jack manifested a blast of snow in his hand.

“(Y/N)!” Scott shouted over the crowd, waving wildly to get your attention.

“Get this to Scott.” You handed the snow globe to Betty, urgency in your voice and your eyes. “I’ve gotta get Bernard.”

“On it.” She took the globe from you and weaved through the crowd expertly. You ran towards the stage as though everything was moving in slow motion.

“This guy isn’t Santa! He’s trying to ruin Christmas!” Bernard shouted, voice cracking as he did.

Jack laughed loudly, and the crowd assembled did the same. “Do you hear him? I am Santa! Without me, there would be no Christmas! What gives you the right to say any of this?”

“I’m the Head Elf!” Bernard insisted, struggling against the toy soldiers. “I’ve seen a thousand Christmases and dozens of Santas! You are nothing compared to any of them!”

“Alright, tough guy, you think I’m not Santa? How about I show you what a real Santa is capable of?” Jack threatened, ice in his voice. He raised his hand to freeze Bernard and you dove onto the stage, tackling Jack to the ground, earning a loud gasp and several concerned voices from the crowd.

“Don’t you dare touch him, you fucking narcissistic popsicle!” You shouted, getting a good punch in before retreating to Bernard’s side, kicking the toy soldier behind him and pulling apart the large ribbon bow binding his wrists. Parents covered their children’s ears, shielding them from the harsh language. Some of the crowd cleared out, retreating to a safer distance, while others pulled out their phones, desperate to go viral on YouTube.

“Come on.” You grabbed Bernard’s hand and he squeezed yours, following you off of the stage and through the crowd to where Scott stood with the snow globe. He shook it and made a wish, but nothing happened.

“What?” Scott asked, trying again. “It won’t work.”

“It’s the Escape Clause.” Bernard closed his eyes, remembering the rules. “Jack made this wish. He’s…he’s Santa now; he’s the only one who can undo this.”

“Oh my god.” A wave of dread flowed over you.

“And those, my dears, are the words I will never utter.” Jack said, dusting himself off and sauntering over to the four of you, his security not far behind, ready to apprehend all of you. “It was a nice try, though. Really valiant effort, all four of you. Scott, Bernard, Betty…and you. I can’t say I recognize you.”

“Maybe if you had half a braincell, you would.”

He scoffed, offended. “Well, I guess it doesn’t matter. They’ll figure that much out when they get you to jail, I suppose.” He shrugged and the security officers seized the four of you, taking the snow globe and giving it back to Jack. He tossed it in the air cockily a few times before chuckling. “You know, I don’t need this thing. I’m never going to wish all of this away.”

Frost tendrils crept up the glass dome and in a great burst of light, it shattered. You gasped, feeling the magic settle. This was it. This was reality now. There was no way to undo it.

“O-oh.” Bernard took a stuttered breath, faltering. He collapsed to the ground and you pushed away from security, rushing to his side and collecting him in your arms.

“Bernard?”

He shook his head. You raised a hand to give him more of your magic, but he lowered it with his own. “You have to finish this, Aurora.” He said, eyes serious, glimmering despite the pain you could tell he was in. “You’re the only one who can.”

He leaned forward, a hand brushing the hair away from your face, capturing your lips with his own, his kiss soft and tender, tasting faintly of peppermint, and then he disappeared in a burst of sparkles, his silver and gold magic drifting forward into your chest.

You gasped, tears rolling down your cheeks, arms empty and heart emptier. “No! NO! What did you do to him?” You turned, facing Jack.

“The only thing I could. Protecting Christmas from the likes of you.” He shrugged. “What was it he called you? Autumn? Is that your name? Autumn?”

“No.” You told him, rising to your feet, pure magic lifting you from the ground and setting you on your feet.

His eyes widened and he took a step back.

“I’m the Aurora.” You rose into the air, teals and purples and pinks swirling around you in a rush of power. You raised your hand, manifesting the snow globe within it, its broken shards reforming in your grasp, effortless and precise. Once it was whole again, you shook it, magic swirling within its waters, overriding the rules of the Escape Clause with rules of your own.

A voice came out of you then that you weren’t sure was your own. It came deep from your chest, echoing across the pole, accompanied by a wave of power, the same magic you’d used on Betty, but tenfold, fierce and fiery, prickling like static all down your arms as it left you.

“May Everything Return to the Way it Was Before, to the Way it was Always Meant to Be.”

And with one final rush of magic, everything went white.

***

It took a while for the picture to form in front of you, your hearing distorted, the colors slowly coming back one by one.

You were kneeling there in the center of the Workshop, which was full of elves, their work paused as they watched the scene unfolding. Scott was Santa once more, wearing his red undershirt and suspenders, looking jollier than you’d ever seen him. Carol stood beside him, looking confused.

Mother Nature was there, as was Tooth, and, of course, Jack Frost, wearing his signature blue suit as opposed to the red one he’d been wearing moments earlier.

You got to your feet, looking for Bernard in the crowd, but not finding him. Your heart lurched, your search brought to a halt by Jack’s nasally voice.

“Aw, come on now, kid, no hard feelings, right?”

Rather than replying, you wound up and punched him square in the jaw with more force than you were used to possessing.

“OOOOOOOH…” The elves murmured, wincing as Jack fell to the ground, gripping his face.

“I’m going to ask you one last time and you are going to answer me. What. Did you do to him.” You demanded, a fierce power zinging through you.

“I didn’t do anything to him! This is all a big misunderstanding! Right, Santa? Tooth? Back me up on this!” Jack groveled, shielding his face with both hands, cowering in fear.

“Can’t do that, Jack.” Scott shook his head. “You have to answer to her.”

“Where is Bernard?”

“I feel like there are more pressing issues at hand—” Jack deflected, shrinking further away from you.

“What’s that?” One of the elves asked, pointing to a column of sparkles manifesting beside you.

You turned to look, staring at it until it clicked. Reaching into yourself, you let the last pieces of Bernard’s magic flow out of your chest, where it had retreated for safekeeping. Silver and gold glitter rushed out of you, swirling from the ground up until he was standing there again, solid and real.

He all but collapsed into your arms, holding onto you tightly while he found his balance again.

“Bernard,” you sobbed, holding him close, your arms desperate to prove he was real again, that he was solid and wasn’t going anywhere.

“Hey, no need for tears, Aurora. I’m alright.” He grinned, meeting your gaze. His hand rose to your cheek and he wiped your tears away as he took you in for all that you were. “Thanks to you, I am.”

“(Y/N)?” Mother Nature asked, voice soft and warm.

“I…I can explain.” You insisted, turning to face her.

“No need, dear one. I know why you’re here. I’ve always known.” She smiled, bowing her head. “And now that you’re here, we can finish this.”

You looked to Bernard and he nodded, letting go of you to give you a gentle push forward, his eyes proud and supportive.

“Kneel.” She instructed, and you did, dropping to one knee in front of her.

The elves fell silent, desperate to witness what was unfolding for the first time in centuries.

“(Y/N) (L/N), through your bravery and selflessness, you have proven what I’ve known all along. You are the Aurora Borealis, the Winter Guardian, and Protector of the North Pole and all her Magic. For the first time in five centuries, the North Pole has an Aurora, which means…” She looked to Jack, who shook his head desperately.

“No. No way. I am not giving an ounce of my power to that…that…she punched me! Twice! Did none of you see that? She’s violent!”

“After everything you did to the Auroras before her, you’re lucky all she did was punch you!” Bernard snapped, arms crossed. “Not to mention the fact you destroyed her house in an attempt to kill her.”

Jack gasped in faux shock. “What, me? I…I would never—!”

“Jack.” Mother Nature reprimanded sharply. “You don’t have to give her the power. It was never yours to begin with.”

She outstretched a hand and, as easily as turning on a faucet, the power he’d been given, the magical, dancing light, was siphoned out of him and floated straight into you. Your feet lifted from the ground, head tilting back as your body slowly rose from the floor, power greater than you’d ever seen or felt ebbing and flowing around you, changing you into the thing you were always meant to become: the Aurora Borealis.

Your hair fully turned white, glimmering like fallen snow, a few stray streaks of pink and purple and teal scattered throughout. Your skin took on a subtle sparkle, every part of you becoming stronger, right down to your fingernails. Your clothes were replaced with a simple, glittering dress, the color of the night sky.

Gently, you touched down again, fully reborn.

The elves murmured and whispered in awe and you looked around to find a row of proud faces.

Mother Nature stepped forward and took both of your hands in hers, meeting you face to face for the first time in three years. “Dear one, I am so sorry for everything you’ve been through. I should have warned you, I should have done more to ready you, but I didn’t and…I let you feel alone.”

“I am alive because of you. Because you misled him. Everything you did was to protect me. I understand that now.” You told her, voice smooth and confident.

She touched her forehead to yours for a moment before pulling away to meet your gaze again. “Then, dear one, I have one last question for you.”

“I’m ready.”

“Hereby and Forevermore, your duty as the Winter Aurora is to the North Pole. You are tasked with its safety and secrets, to protect all of its residents and the magic they hold. Do you accept the Title of Winter Guardian and all of the responsibilities it holds?”

“I do.” You nodded, meeting Bernard’s eyes for a brief moment, only to find the warmest, proudest smile on his face.

“Then this belongs to you.” In her hand, Mother Nature manifested a small, elegant silver tiara, embellished with glittering snowflakes. She set it gently in your hair, completing your transformation once and for all.

Jack started sneaking towards the door, but you lifted your hand, a wave of power rushing around him, turning him back towards the rest of you and giving him a push back towards the rest of you. He stumbled forward, looking around the group nervously.

“You’re—you’re not gonna kill me, right?” He asked. “You still need me! I’m the one who oversees the snow days and-and the snowmen! Think of the snowmen!”

“We do need a Jack Frost.” Mother Nature said. “Which is why while you were here terrorizing Santa, I was locating your successor. Jack, come on in.”

The doors of the Workshop opened and in walked a much younger man with shaggy white hair. Your best guess put him in his early twenties, and his wardrobe was much more modern than the other Jack’s as well, a blue hoodie adorned with silver swirls. He carried a large stick with a curve at the end of it, somewhat resembling a scythe.

“Nice to meet you.” He waved casually, leaning against his stick.

“My successor?” Jack’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re firing me?!”

“Oh, we’re doing more than firing you.” Tooth chuckled. He looked to you. “Aurora, what do you think we should do with him?”

“He needs to be put…somewhere he can’t hurt anyone else.” You decided. You turned to the Head Elf and he perked up, interested to hear your suggestion. “Do you have a snow globe I could borrow?”

He grinned and reached into his satchel, pulling out a fresh one. “I like the way you think.”

“What? No! You can’t just—” Jack shook his head, looking to Santa, to Mother Nature, to even Mrs. Claus for some other solution.

“This is for all of the Auroras before me, for the elves you brainwashed and the reindeer you stuck in a petting zoo. You’ll have lots of time to think about what you’ve done. And maybe someday, in five hundred years or so, I’ll let you go live a boring human life.” You told him, taking the snow globe from Bernard and focusing.

There was a bright flash of sparkles and then it was done, Jack was trapped in the confines of the little snow globe in your hands and he looked very angry about it, but his complaints were too muffled to make them out clearly. Santa reached for the snow globe, so you handed it to him and he gave it an amused swirl.

“Well done, (Y/N).” He complimented, passing the snow globe to Curtis. “See to it that this gets locked away properly.”

“Will do, Santa.” Curtis nodded and headed off.

“Now, (Y/N), if you are going to be staying here, I suppose someone will have to show you around the place.” Santa smiled knowingly.

Bernard cleared his throat. “I believe that would be my responsibility as Head Elf, Santa.”

“Yes, I believe it would.”

The Head Elf offered you his arm and you gladly took it, letting him escort you up the stairs of the workshop and down the hall so the two of you could have a private moment. As soon as you were out of sight, he turned to face you, his hands cupping your cheeks, nose brushing against yours.

“See, I knew you were more of a Winter.”

“Do I look okay?”

“You’ve never looked better.” He murmured, closing the distance between you and pressing his lips to yours passionately. In your Mortal life, you’d had your fair share of kisses, but kissing Bernard was something else entirely. He was experienced, that was for sure.

After what felt like an eternity, he pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. “Now, where would you like to explore first?”

***

Bernard took you around the Workshop, showing you all of the departments, which were full of elves, all of them working hard to ensure Santa was on schedule to leave that night. Bernard checked in with each of them as he did, making sure everything was going according to plan. Tooth and Mother Nature had stuck around to help out, and some of the other Legendary Figures had arrived as well, introducing themselves to you when you came around.

Finally, as the end of your tour, Bernard led you to an ornate set of stained glass double doors. As if by magic, they swung open when you approached, giving way to a beautiful bedroom, tall, arched ceilings, dancing Northern Lights projected across them. Stained glass windows, a large, wooden desk, hardwood floors and shelves and shelves of books. There was a carved armoire in the corner of the room, and against the leftmost wall, on a platform, was a giant canopy bed.

“This is the Aurora’s suite. You can decorate however you’d like. I had some elves from the interior design department get it fixed up for you.” Bernard explained, your arm looped through his, hand resting on his bicep. “If you’ll turn your attention right over here…”

He led you to the desk, dropping your arm and plucking something off of the desk. Your snow globe! The one he had given you three years before, still inscribed with those famous words that had started your entire adventure to begin with, the last remnant you had from this life before it was ripped away from you.

“My snow globe! How did you get it here?”

He shrugged, handing it to you. “My magic came back. Which means I can give this back to you.”

Bernard lifted his hand and you pressed yours against it, palm to palm. Gently, your power flowed from him back into you, a light breeze blowing through the room. He brushed your hair away from your face and pressed a long kiss to your cheek.

“There’s still a lot to do, but…I think we’re going to be able to pull everything together by tonight.”

“Well then you better get out there, Mr. Head Elf.” You smirked, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips.

He met your eyes, “You’ll be okay?”

“I’m going to be just fine.” You assured him, setting the snow globe back on the desk so you could rest your arms on his shoulders, his hands resting on your waist. “And after, you and I will have all the time in the world to figure this out.”

“Oh! I didn’t mean to interrupt…” Curtis muttered, standing in the doorway.

“Curtis!” Bernard exclaimed, his voice cracking.

You giggled when he abruptly pulled away to face his number two.

“The tree topper department needs an extra set of hands.” Curtis said, motioning back towards the workshop.

“Can I help?” You asked.

“Oh, Aurora, you don’t have to—” Curtis shook his head.

“Yeah, but…can I?” You asked, eyes curious.

Curtis grinned. “Yeah, of course.” He made eye contact with Bernard. “I like her already.”

Bernard gave you a nudge. “I do too.”

***

At Santa’s request, you met him and Bernard at the stable gates to see him off for your very first Christmas as the North Pole’s Guardian. Your heart was racing. You didn’t know what was expected of you or what you’d have to do, but Bernard was there, his smile ever so reassuring.

Some of the elves that worked with the reindeer helped get them all properly harnessed and ready for the flight, carefully attaching their reins to the sleigh. Bernard walked you through what you’d have to do. As one of the oldest elves in the Pole, he remembered the process well.

“It’s easy. All you’ll have to do is raise your hand.” He was standing right behind you and raised your hand with his own, positioning it just so. “And lower the barrier so Santa can leave. And if you can’t, we have controls for that now. It’s…mostly ceremonial at this point.”

“Well that does make me feel a little better.” You smiled, turning towards him.

“And, um, after, I think you should…check the armoire in your room. I left something for you.”

“Oh you did, did you?”

“Something for the party. You don’t have to wear it, though.” He shrugged awkwardly, cheeks extra rosy.

“And the party starts…?”

“The minute Santa gets back.” Bernard explained. “And then we get three months off and pick back up in March.”

“Alright.” You nodded, smiling. “Plenty of time for you to show me the ropes.”

“I was thinking exactly the same thing.” He smiled, looking both ways, but not risking a kiss, not with all of the elves assembled to send Santa off.

“Everything ready?” Scott checked, donning his famed coat and hat for the flight just as a few elves loaded the famous gift bag, filled to the brim and then some, onto the back of the sleigh.

“All set, Santa.” Bernard nodded.

Scott put a hand on your shoulder, the other on Bernard’s. “We owe this Christmas to you two. Wouldn’t be standing here without either of you.”

“All in a day’s work, Santa.” You smiled.

“I’ll see you when I get back. And then the real fun begins.”

“I’ll see to it that we have enough eggnog at the ready.” Bernard replied with a wink, which Santa laughed at.

“Excellent.” He climbed into the sleigh and gave you the signal.

Just as you’d practiced, you lifted a hand and focused on the barrier protecting the Pole, made of the same magic that flowed through your veins. Effortlessly, the veil parted, making way for Santa’s sleigh and the elves erupted into cheers as Scott flew off into the sky. Bernard cheered loudly, turning to you and scooping you up in his arms, spinning you around in his excitement. You squealed with laughter.

Once your feet were on the ground again, you met his eyes briefly before pressing the quickest of kisses to his cheek and walking over to Carol, who was smiling a proud, maternal smile.

“Let’s get you ready for that party, huh?” She asked, looping her arm around yours. “You’ll have to fill me in on everything you’ve been up to! It’s nice to have a human-ish woman around here again.”

“I missed you, Carol.”

“I missed you too, hon.”

***

The deliveries went on without a hitch and Scott was back at the Pole faster than you could sing the Twelve Days of Christmas. Carol, you, and Betty had gone into your room to prepare. Carol did your hair, perching your snowflake tiara perfectly atop your head. You felt like a princess.

Betty helped zip up the dress Bernard had left for you, an elegant silver gown with a layered skirt, a tasteful slit up the leg, and off the shoulder sleeves, a layer of tule on top that was embellished with silver stars.

“You look stunning.” Carol complimented, resting her chin on your shoulder as the two of you admired your reflection.

“Thanks to you.” You tilted your head. “I’m still getting used to the hair, but…I think it looks nice like this.”

“Makes you look like a superhero.”

“I kinda feel like one, too.”

“Well you should. Scott told me everything that happened. I’m glad you were there to help.”

“I’m glad I was, too.” You said, pausing before asking, “So…theoretically speaking of course, is there a rule prohibiting the Aurora from…dating?”

Betty gasped, smiling. “I knew it! You and Bernard—”

“You and Bernard?”  Carol asked, interested. “I never would have guessed.”

“Never?”

“Well, maybe a little.” She admitted, pinching her fingers together. “Saving the world together is a very romantic first date.”

“So…I am allowed to…date him?” You asked, earning a giggle from Betty.

“There is nothing, to my knowledge, prohibiting either the Aurora or the Head Elf from falling in love,” she reported. “But I can check the handbook if you want me too.”

“That is good to know.” You tapped your temple, laughing a bit.

Downstairs, you could hear the music pick up and the three of you took that as your cue to join the festivities.

Soon, you were standing at the rail overlooking the Workshop floor, where Bernard was standing, chatting with Curtis, Santa, and some of the other elves. As soon as he caught sight of you, he froze, his glass of eggnog halfway to his mouth and eyes locked on you.

You smiled coyly and lifted the skirt of the gown, carefully navigating down the stairs. He ditched his glass on a cluttered table and met you at the foot of the stairs, taking your arm.

He swallowed thickly, admiring you for a long moment before murmuring, “You look beautiful, Aurora.”

“Thank you, Bernard.” You smiled, tucking your hair behind your ear. “You picked a great dress.”

“Would you like to dance?”

“I’d love to.” You nodded, letting him lead you over to where the rest of the elves were paired up, swaying to a slow song. Your arms settled around his neck as he tugged you closer, a hand on your waist, the other finding your free hand.

It was clear in seconds that he knew how to dance, as he expertly spun you out and then back into him with ease, his chest flush against yours, mouth right against your ear. It was one of those moments you were forced to remember he’d lived a hundred lifetimes. He carried them well; he always had.

When the music picked back up, he said, “Let’s go get some air.”

You nodded, letting him lead you back up the stairs to the railing, where a few stray elves were also hanging out, getting some space from the heat of the party. The two of you leaned against the metal, looking down over your new home.

You were quiet for a long while before finally asking the question that had been on your mind since early that morning, in an airplane in another timeline. “Did you know her? The other Aurora?”

He nodded, face serious. “I knew her, yeah. I wasn’t Head Elf at the time, only second in command. She and I were acquaintances, but she was nice.”

“Mmm.” You hummed.

Bernard reached over and touched your hand. “I much prefer what you and I have this time around.”

“And what is it you and I have?” You asked.

“I’m…not sure yet.” Bernard shook his head, tugging you ever so closer, a gentle hand on your waist. “But I do know that in all of my 1600 years, I’ve never felt like this before. Even before, when you left, when I thought I’d never see you again, I was waiting for the day our paths would cross. I wish it had been under better circumstances, but…”

“But, I’m glad you found me.” You interjected, taking another step forward and resting your head on his shoulder.

Bernard leaned in to kiss you, but stopped, noticing all the elves watching. However, when you pointed straight up at a bundle of glowing mistletoe, he knew there was only one thing he could do…

THREE MONTHS LATER

“Ladies, thank you so much for agreeing to meet here at the Pole.” Mother Nature smiled at each of you, seated at the large round table in your office, which was, coincidentally, right down the hall from Bernard’s office.

Around the table were yourself, Mother Nature, and the three other Guardian Spirits, Briar Flores, Amber Sanderson, and Evangeline Cho, each of you dressed for your respective season, but Briar was absolutely glowing, as though a halo of light was positioned just behind her head at all times.

“Thank you for having us, (Y/N).” Briar thanked, bowing her head. “My place is absolutely a mess at the moment. Bunny has paint on just about every surface in the building.”

“Any time, Briar. This place has been quiet since the elves started their break. Things should be getting started up again soon, though.”

“If you need any help saving Christmas this year, you let us know.” Amber chuckled.

“Knock on wood Christmas doesn’t need saving this year.” You laughed, knocking on the table.

“I am serious, though, as soon as Easter is over, we all need to get mimosas and brunch. There is this lovely little island that is just so flowery and perfect this time of year, you’d all love it.” Briar beamed.

The rest of you murmured and nodded in agreement, stopping only when Evangeline looked up at the doorway, biting back a grin.

You looked up to see Bernard standing there, a bouquet of snowdrops in his hand.

“Hello, Bernard. How can I help you?”

“Oh, Aurora, I didn’t mean to interrupt. The guys in foliage need a second opinion when you have a minute.”

“Right, of course.” You nodded, looking to Mother Nature.

“Meeting adjourned. I’ll see you all next month for a progress report.” She smiled, straightening up her papers. The rest of you all stood up from the table and began to exit the office.

Mother Nature rested a hand on your shoulder, glancing back at Bernard. “You look really happy here, (Y/N).”

“I am really happy here.”

“Good, I’m glad.” She gave your shoulder a squeeze. “I’ll see you next month.”

Once the others had scattered to the winds, Bernard walked into the office, closing the door behind him.

You quirked an eyebrow. “The guys in foliage, huh?”

“Partially. Partially just the Head Elf wanting to make sure his Aurora had something pretty to look at.” He whispered, an arm drawing you closer for a kiss that you gladly reciprocated.

“Your Aurora already has something pretty to look at.” You replied, a finger booping the end of his nose.

He shook his head, grinning. “Does the flirting never cease?” “Check in with me in a few hundred years.” You replied, setting the snowdrops in your vase before lacing your fingers through his, your other hand rising to rest on his arm as you walked out of the office and towards the large room you’d been using to train your powers. “Now, where were we with those lessons…?”

Tagged: @madameggroll, @capamericant, @midnightmisses, @five-hargreeves-apologist

[arliedraws]

In the books, Sirius's devotion to Harry is of course very deep, but it never translates to something physical. He only shakes Harry's end when he leaves his bedside in book 4, and in book 5 there is something resembling a hug, like twice...? As a dog he stood up his hind legs and front paws on harry's shoulders and a half hug after Christmas. Idk it sort of drives me crazy, because in the movies Harry and Sirius are so affectionate! That first hug when Harry arrives in Grimmauld!! Gary and Dan had an amazing chemistry that other actors were jealous of, they mirrored the book characters, so it palpable on screen, the few scenes Gary is in at all at least.

So, what do you make of this? Do you in musing for art imagine a more affectionate relationship between Harry and Sirius? Maybe if Sirius survived the war? Molly's hug in book 4 was a poignant moment but imo that should have been a moment between Sirius and Harry. Sirius already says he expected something catastrophic to happen to Harry in the third task, that's what he stutters when Harry comes in with Dumblebore. So he is literally afraid of his godsons life and it still shows of course, Sirius staying at Harry's side was very beautifully written, like the devotion is clear, but I am foaming at the mouth for more affection between them in canon? Platonic, not shipping. So between the movies and the books Im just kinda torn what's better

It's more a rant than an ask, sorry lol, but if you have any input I'd he so stoked to read it. Not many peeps in the fandom even give Sirius and Harry any time of day, nvrmind even understand what they had (which also drives me kinda nuts but ok)

Ohhhh, anon, you’ve come to the right spot! Mostly because I love them. I would say that 80% of my fandom interest is just Sirius being a dad to Harry.

To your question, I don’t think one is better than the other. Each has their purpose. Let me share my thoughts:

1. I am soft for movie Sirius and Harry’s affectionate touching. However. The dynamics of their relationship were NOT mirrored from the books, which…is fine. Honestly, I just don’t think it was a priority for the filmmakers. This particular bit doesn’t bother me because the movies are not supposed to replace the source material—they are an interpretation. To me, watching the movies is like reading fic—fun to watch but not canon. Also, the filmmakers removed so much of their relationship in GoF that they HAD to make Sirius and Harry physically affectionate in order for movie audiences to see what losing Sirius would mean to Harry. Their complexity is completely unexplored in the films, and they had to do SOMETHING to get the audience to feel sad when Sirius died. This started in PoA when they really downplayed the context of their relationship. (Lol, see my rant on PoA. I really don’t like that movie hahahahaha.)

2. In the books, Harry and Sirius are not physically affectionate with each other despite their intense love for each other, and I think this is an effective way to show characterization. As I tell my students, this might have been intentional by the author, but it could have been an instinct that she followed (what feels right for the characters).

Here’s what I think: both are so terrified of losing the other that they won’t allow themselves to get too close, and, crucially, they both fear showing vulnerability. Touching someone and reaching out for a hug or comfort is an extremely vulnerable thing to do. If you reach out for a hug, you are showing your true feelings. To be rejected physically is sometimes more devastating than someone telling you to just “go away.” It’s a sign of trust to touch someone—you are trusting that they feel the same way about you, and you are trusting that they won’t pull away. Both Sirius and Harry understand rejection, and both avoid it. How do you avoid rejection? You distance yourself.

I’ll put the rest under a cut because I think this might get long…

Sirius and Harry, for all that they love each other, fall out of trusting each other by OotP. Part of this is trauma, but it is also miscommunication. Harry is worried that Sirius will do something stupid—either out of concern for Harry or because he wants to get out of number 12–but he’s worried he’ll lose Sirius. So by withholding affection (which I’m not sure if he knows how to give physically), Harry distances himself from Sirius which will, theoretically, keep Sirius safe (of course, it backfires). Sirius is…you know…going through stuff in OotP. He is already vulnerable—he perceives himself as being emasculated because he’s not allowed to leave his childhood home and he’s relegated to performing ‘uninteresting, domestic work’, and he must be inactive when he’s a man OF action.

When it comes to Goblet of Fire and the odd handshake… I think Sirius is reeeeeally holding back. Harry does NOT want him to go, and Sirius knows this. (Why DOES Dumbledore send him away? Literally anyone else could have “alerted the old crowd” and NOT the convicted murderer. This is clearly the author’s excuse to get Sirius away from Harry—and, I’ve spoken to this before, Sirius is too much of a miracle character—too smart, too loyal, too loving to support the story that the author wanted to tell.) Sirius, if he had stayed, would have been the emotional support that Harry needed. So if Sirius holds Harry, what if Harry doesn’t let go? What if Sirius himself can’t let go? A handshake will have to do.

So Sirius leaves Harry with that bizarre handshake. That Sirius leaves at all damages their relationship—it could have been repaired with time (if they’d been allowed time), but this moment makes Harry realize that he cannot rely on anyone, not even Sirius. This leaves Harry to be isolated in OotP, and it leaves him to feel like he cannot trust anyone. I’m not blaming Sirius for leaving, but I believe this action causes a rift between them that carries into the next book.

My point is, I HATE that they don’t touch but it is very important that they don’t, at least when it comes to the story that the author wanted to tell. I think it was the right move when we look at the story as a whole. Do I like it? NO! But it’s interesting, and it DOES feel right for them. Is it devastating? Yes!!!!!!!

TL;DR: I don’t think either interpretation is necessarily better than the other, but they both have their purpose. Both are effective!

Touch is…huge in HP. Consider Voldemort’s “I can touch him now” and causing Harry pain. Touch is a privilege, and to be touched without permission is a violation. Harry kills someone by touching them. He is only touched by his family when Dudley beats him up or he gets shoved in his cupboard.

Weirdly, one of my absolutely favorite moments when Sirius and Harry touch is in PoA when the Dementors are closing in on Sirius, Harry, and Hermione, and Harry, as he’s about to faint, reaches out to grab an unconscious Sirius by the arm, thinking something along the lines of “the dementors weren’t going to take him” and such. And this is about two seconds after Harry has accepted that Sirius is telling the truth! Harry physically tethers Sirius to him—this touch-starved teen reaches out to this man who is now everything to him, who is now his only real family, willing to risk death (or worse) to keep it. BUT THEY JUST MET!!!!! Devastating!!!

Also…another thought: the first time Sirius and Harry touch is the first time Sirius has been touched as a human in twelve years. And Harry is beating the absolute shit out of him…and then Sirius nearly strangles him…

Also, also, not to like…self-promote, but if you want some Sirius & Harry family feelings and a wee bit of affectionate touching, I wrote a one-shot where they talk about their feelings in OotP.

Anyway, this got longer than I thought. Thank you for the prompt!!

[luciddownloading]

Tarot Reading: What Are Their Current Feelings For You?

What is your person currently feeling for you? Choose the image below that you feel most drawn to and then scroll to your respective pile. It is fine to choose more than one pile. You're amazing and attractive. So, it wouldn't be a shock if more than one person comes through :)

My advice for these readings: Don't stress, don't obsess. The person who is meant for you will come your way and anyone else can be viewed as a valuable lesson. Also, please use/trust your intuition/inner judgment. Take what resonates!

PILE 1

PILE 2

PILE 3

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(Clarifying cards in parentheses)

PILE 1

Six of Swords - reversed

(Four of Pentacles)

Ten of Pentacles

(Ace of Wands - reversed)

Three of Swords

(Nine of Wands - reversed)

Five of Swords - reversed

(Three of Wands)

Eight of Wands - reversed

Okay, Pile 1, your person is quite all over the place. I am immediately getting Gemini vibes from this pile as well as Virgo. Not even because of any cards that came out. Just the energy I am picking up. So either of those signs could be their Sun, Moon, Rising, if that's confirmation. I say that because their mental energy is incredibly overactive. A smart cookie but the cookie is crumbling! They like to see themselves as tough cookies, too. (Sorry if this is making you hungry lol. Not the intention) They don't like that they are suffering in the way they are but they're also struggling to overcome it.

Basically, they are overthinking the hell out of this situation because they want to get it right. They don't want to "mess it up". Yes, major perfectionist streak. It's hard for them to realize that they are imperfectly perfect just as they are and don't need to try so hard to win your heart. I don't think this is someone who you're actually with. Most of you, anyway. If this is your partner, they've been in the doghouse for a minute. Regardless of the relationship status, you two have had some real ups and downs. Your person is still having an extremely hard time accepting their past mistakes here. Not in the sense of not taking accountability or anything. No, the total opposite. They are taking WAY too much accountability. It's hard for them to recognize that they don't have to crucify themselves for their flaws. Instead of using mistakes as opportunities for learning, they usually see them as reasons to beat themselves up.

The thing is that they're not telling you any of this. That's why I feel like this isn't a committed relationship, for most of you. If it is, they are being very distant and withdrawn because they're feeling too vulnerable. If it isn't, they are being very distant and withdrawn because they're feeling too vulnerable. Lol but in this case, they can actually disappear from your radar. You two probably aren't talking much. When you do, it's likely very dry or kind of awkward on their end. They actually imagine themselves having the nerve to finally tell you how they feel about you (because I don't think they have yet), what they've been going through, how much they want to learn and grow and be better. All of it. They visualize making some grand confession of love and commitment but when they actually text you or reach out, all they can say is "Hey, what's up?"

I get the sense that you also know what's going on but also know there's not much else you can do. The ball is in their court! Essentially, they are very torn between this intense desire to be with you and build a happy life with you and an equally intense desire to hide in their little hole and be tormented by their fears and insecurities and negative thoughts. For some of you, this person may be a writer. Maybe they are making some heavy journal entries or channeling their feelings into creative writing. Not that you'd actually get to read it though (at least not now). On your end, you are left with a choice. You may want to wait on this person to come forward, especially if you feel a strong spiritual tie to them, or you may be exploring other options. Either way, I would advise you to detach from expectations of when this person will open up. The truth is they're still not ready to and need to improve their mental health. That doesn't negate their feelings for you, which are very genuine and strong. But it does mean that you can't exactly expect this all to turn around overnight.

I keep hearing Numb by Linkin Park. There may be messages in that song pertaining to your person. I do think they probably come from a very toxic background and that song symbolizes how they are working out the connection between their mean inner voice and any abuse/mistreatment they suffered at the hands of others. Also, 21 Guns by Green Day. So, fittingly, some very emo songs for this person.

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PILE 2

Death

(The Moon - reversed)

The High Priestess

(The Hermit - reversed)

Queen of Swords - reversed

(The Lovers)

Page of Wands - reversed

(Page of Cups)

The Hierophant

Wow, Pile 2. Okay, I have to laugh but it's not at your expense. The energy here is just kind of wild. This isn't necessarily just one person. It could be but it's very possible that it's more than one person. For many of you, this is symbolizing a running theme in your life. And the message is quite specific. You are a baddie, first of all. Regardless of your gender! Most of you, I feel, are more on the feminine side. But, you are all very desirable and alluring (yes, you are, take the damn compliment lol). You might have Scorpio as one of your personal placements. And you've got at least one person, if not more, wanting you really badly even though they think they shouldn't.

It's possible you are involved in a love triangle of sorts with someone taken. If so, this is a no judgment zone! But, I get the feeling that a lot of you are just minding your own business and being desired and pursued by these people anyway. It might be shocking to you or a little horrifying, something you don't really want. The person(s) in question could be just a friend or someone who you are not looking or expecting to get involved with. Meanwhile, they're kind of going crazy over you. Well, not kind of. Very.

The signs I am picking up are Aquarius and Cancer (again, they just popped in my head, not based on the cards here, which is funny because I don't usually do it that way). So, the person could have their Sun, Moon, Rising in either of those signs. Also, Virgo energy. So, again, a Virgo Sun, Moon or Rising. This person definitely could be married or in a serious commitment. The thing is that, even though they really want you, they also feel that it's wrong. They are enduring a real moral battle and dilemma here. "Battle of the flesh" is what just came to mind lol. So, this could be someone who's Christian or very religious. Maybe you go to the same church? That might be a little awkward. Or maybe it's just their religious path that makes this so difficult (though I must say that non-religious people also believe infidelity or cheating is wrong).

This person - I hesitate to say "your person" because it feels a bit one-sided for many of you - has really really been dwelling on this. I think they get very afraid of what people may think if they were to be "exposed". There might be a very opinionated mother figure, in particular, whose potential disapproval they really fear. The image I'm getting is very specific. Almost like they imagine themselves being with you physically and then they think of Mommy judging them and it kills the mood. It's giving Norman Bates a bit. Not that your person's a psycho but that their mother figure is very dominant and sometimes harsh in ways that may inhibit them or frustrate them. I just visualized that exact scene from Bates Motel, a masterpiece of a series that you should check out, btw (if you can handle darker themes).

But, Mommy issues aside, they are VERY sexually attracted to you. Part of the reason why is that the bedroom at home may be very dry. If this person is with someone else, the spark may be long gone. The sex non-existent. But, instead of seeing that as a reason for counseling or, you know, a separation or something, they are using their passion for you as an escape from this dissatisfaction. This may be TMI to you but they masturbate to you a lot. Like, all the time. It's like their sexual desire for you keeps them going. But, to be honest, I'm not getting the sense that this runs that deeply. It could, for some of you. The dominant impression I am getting, though, is someone who probably cares about you a lot in another sense - as a friend or something - but who also can't help but notice how hot you are. Their sexual draw to you, though, is motivated by other feelings that I think have very little to do with you.

That's a bit of a warning from Spirit, actually, if you are pinning any romantic hopes on this person. This could be a case of wild passion over deeper feeling. And I think even they realize that. They often berate themselves for these "sinful" thoughts (their word, not mine) but also can't help it. Ultimately, this is leading to a huge transformation within them, though. They are finally recognizing how dissatisfied they have been in their lives, in their relationship, if that resonates. It's like they can't fool themselves anymore and pretend like everything is peachy keen. But, this kind of introspection can be a very long and painful process. They may very well end up getting a divorce or making some big change in their life. My advice? If you are waiting for them to do that, don't. This honestly feels like a very messy situation and I feel called to tell you to have sensible expectations. Their feelings for you could do a 180 if and when they have you and you stop being "forbidden fruit". You may also be mirroring this feeling of wanting them but believing it's wrong. Ultimately, only you can make your life choices. Just know that if something truly doesn't feel right in your heart, it's because it's not. But, if you have no plans on entertaining this, just keep doing you, king or queen.

The songs I am channeling for this pile have been raunchy rap songs. Lol very fitting. Play by David Banner. (If you play the uncut version, you might want to use headphones!) Back That Ass Up by Juvenile. This person needs to behave lmao. And that's what I mean when I warn you that they may just want to hit it but are confusing that with love. Also, You Make Me Wanna by Usher came through. Very on-the-nose, Spirit. Just remember that life is not an Usher song and in those kinds of situations, someone's bound to get hurt.

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PILE 3

Three of Cups - reversed

(Eight of Cups - reversed)

The Star

(Six of Cups)

Five of Swords

(The Moon - reversed)

Three of Wands

(The Tower)

Ace of Swords

Pile 3, I definitely get the feeling that this is a separation of some sorts. If you are already happily with this person, this isn't for you. I think you haven't talked to this person in a while. They are most definitely someone you have history with, too. And I am getting a sense of many, many years of history with them, possibly going back to college or even high school (which could be any length of time, depending on your age). Whatever the case, y'all go way back. But, because of what happened here, this individual is kind of just left with their memories of you at the moment.

It's a really bittersweet feeling. I think they get sad when they think about you, at times, because they really miss you. So, they make up for that by getting lost in all this nostalgia. They may look at really old pictures or videos of you two on their social media a lot. Or they may just sit back and reminisce. You were a major person in their life and their existence with you was vivid enough to where they can easily transport themselves back to those days mentally. Lots of good times and laughter together. Many memories of partying or fun socializing in your younger days. I get the feeling that this person can almost get addicted to this nostalgia but it's also keeping them hopeful right now.

They are NOT letting you go. They don't believe it's over and it may not be (That is up to you, though) I feel you two grew apart but that there was also some sort of conflict here. For a lot of you, I feel like this was either an old friend who rejected you romantically and acted like they didn't have feelings for you (which was false) or a friend with benefits who wanted to stay casual and refused to commit and maybe picked other people over you. I don't think this was an official ex. Just a frustrating situation that caused you a fuck load of confusion and heartache. Are they into me? Are they not? Why they act like this then? Am I crazy??? The only way, after a long period of time, you could gain peace was by walking away. It's also likely that you've moved far away from them. In many ways, this situation has been in your rear view for a while. What other choice did you have but to move forward? But, by doing so, you inevitably left them devastated. Just the fact that they can't see you in person anymore is brutal.

They're now stuck on you but significantly after the fact. What I am sensing is that this person has "delayed emotions". They can take 2 to 3 business days to respond to even simple matters lol. So, something as complex as this took them a long time to fully process. And the more time went on, the more horrified and hurt they became at the fact that they let you go. For some reason, I am getting a specific message that they are heavy in Fire (Aries, Leo, Sagittarius) and Earth (Taurus, Virgo, Capricorn). Maybe those are the dominant Elements in their chart. They have the fierce, fun nature of Fire and the practicality and groundedness of Earth but they are very out of tune with their true feelings, which made it easy for them to reject you or pretend they didn't feel the connection too.

But they are getting better! They are seeing things in a MUCH different light than they did before. I am getting a specific message about you sharing some sort of spiritual insight or download with them. You might have talked to them about synchronicities around this connection or anything else metaphysical they needed to hear. Since that has not historically been their thing, you may have risked looking crazy or weird to them and maybe they kind of treated you like you were. But, they now see that you were right and are pretty much eating their words. I am definitely getting Aquarius vibes from this pile. That sign could be your Sun, Moon or Rising. That's an Aquarian dilemma (that I relate to very much as an Aquarius Rising myself). Being totally right and insightful but being treated like you're nuts or causing a problem by others until much later, when they realize you were spot on all along. It's alright. It's not easy being "ahead of time". But you're always vindicated!

Like now. I think this person really wants to make it up to you. They also see you very highly. They realize how happy you make them and how truly special you've always been to them; a major Light in their life. Of course, they could've realized this much sooner. But, love does not unfold in a linear way. It's your choice as far as what to do about this. I do feel called to say to not be close-minded about this situation. Maybe a part of you wants this person back too and wants to give it a try romantically. I think you're being advised to not cut them off entirely because of a preconceived notion of how you should respond to them. It may pay off to be open to the possibilities here, instead of staying stuck on their past behavior. People can surprise you!

I think they are feeling called toward becoming spiritual, too, because of the knowledge or insights you may have shared. They see you as a guiding light and you've made such a huge impact on them! One thing I have to mention is that there may be some tension between them and other people in your old friend group. Maybe a mutual friend or two doesn't like how they've treated you? I do think they haven't opened up to many people you both know about this situation. Maybe just a couple of people who are more so their friends because they may be too embarrassed otherwise. I also think if an old friend of yours got married recently or if there was some big social event with the old gang and you weren't there, it was super-hard for them. They were probably thinking of you the whole time and kept imagining you being there. That's a very particular message but take it if it resonates.

Ultimately, they are planning to get back in communication with you. They may have to get creative because maybe they don't have your number anymore or you blocked them or something. But, they are building themselves up to talk to you again. A little overthinking here but it doesn't feel torturous like Pile 1 (there may be messages for you in that pile if you felt called to it). Sometimes, they just sit and practice what they would say. They are kind of nervous and while they may be communicative, they also aren't the most verbal or expressive when it comes to serious situations like this. So temper your expectations, if you're open to them coming forward. Don't think they're going to write you a sonnet or something lol. But, they are trying and they want to take action. I am struck by the lack of Pentacles here, which usually suggests a lack of effort. But I don't see that in a bad way here. I think they're realizing that this situation could be much easier than they have made it out to be and they don't have to hold themselves back anymore. But, don't fixate on when they will come in. Just let go and allow what's meant to happen to happen.

I also want to say that if you want to reach out first, you're getting a green light from Spirit to do so. Maybe you kind of have to because they wouldn't have your contact info otherwise. But, if you do, this could be the encouragement or the sign they'd need to work on reconnecting with you.

As far as songs, I am getting Memories by David Guetta featuring Kid Cudi. So, yes, confirming what I've said before, including that you two probably have some wild, hilarious stories from the old days. I also think this person may not be having as much fun because they're too busy "adulting" and "grinding". So, thoughts of those carefree, crazy times with you are making them extra nostalgic. Also, New Person Same Old Mistakes by Tame Impala (though I have to shout out the cover version Same Ol Mistakes by the legend-the icon-the moment Rihanna). I DO think this person either has significantly changed or will by the time they come back in. I can feel you scoffing a bit in disbelief as they were so stuck in their ways for so long. But, again, leave room for them to surprise you. At the same time, use your own discernment. I just think they are having to face a lot of things about themselves and this situation has been the catalyst for that.