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hanneswrites · 5 years

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the hightlight of my lowlife

Pairings: Kuwabara Kazuma/Urameshi Yusuke/Kurama/Hiei

Rating: Gen

Word Count: 974

Summary/Tags: OT4: Hiei/Kurama/Yusuke/Kazuma Domestic Fluff. What more could you ever need? || Post Series; Kuwabara & Kurama are in college & they all live together.

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Kuwabara was tired. So tired, in fact, that he was having a hard time keeping his eyes open as he walked home from campus. His head lulled to the side as he yawned, very nearly walking into a kid in front of him. Finals were taking a lot out of him, he would be the first to admit, and the fact that Urameshi hadn’t been back to their apartment last night wasn’t exactly helping things either. Just as Kuwabara leaned up against a pole to catch his bearings and make sure he was, in fact, heading in the correct direction toward home, he felt a hand on his shoulder. Kuwabara tensed, ready to summon his sword if --

“Calm down, it’s just me.” Kurama’s voice came from behind him, a mischievous grin on his face, “Finals got you down?” The light for the crosswalk turned green and they both made their way across the road, Kurama’s hand guiding him gently on his lower back.

“I’m fine.” Kazuma ran a hand over his face, relaxed now that Kurama was with him, “Have you heard from Yusuke yet?”

Kurama frowned and shook his head, “Unfortunately, no. I think Hiei went to look for him this morning, but neither of them were home when I got back from class.”

Kazuma hummed in response, his eyes drooping as they rounded the corner. Only three more blocks until they were home, but his legs felt like lead blocks.

“I can carry you if you want.” Kurama chuckled, arm wrapping further around Kazuma’s waist to support more of his weight. And on any other day, Kazuma would have glared at him and offered some sort of comeback about how he’s not a child, but today? Today he just leaned into Kurama’s touch and let himself be lifted off his feet.

---

When Kuwabara woke, it was already dark outside. He was all wrapped up in bed and unfortunately alone. The clock on the nightstand read 19:00. He’d been asleep for six hours and no one had woken him. That wasn’t a good sign - probably meant Hiei and Yusuke weren’t back yet - which immediately had his nerves on edge. Stretching out his muscles, Kazuma quickly changed into some lounge pants and an old t-shirt, and headed down to the kitchen. Something smelled good - like spices and seared meat, carried along with a hint of rose that meant Kurama was the one in the kitchen. Not that Kazuma didn’t already know that.

Kurama was situated in front of the stovetop, stirring something in a large pot. He met Kazuma’s eyes for a moment and then looked down, his mouth set in a worried frown.

“Dinner’s almost ready.” Kurama motioned toward the cabinets, an unspoken invitation to begin setting the table. Kazuma nodded, pulling four bowls from the cupboard and settling them down on each of their placemats, just as Kurama pulled the pot off the burner. They worked in sync to set the rest of the table, a pattern well-worn with time, even if they were missing two of their partners. When everything was ready, Kurama sat across from him, placed his hand over Kazuma’s for a moment, and squeezed. He smiled, reassuring, even though both of them were worried that maybe this was the day that someone might not come back.

They settled in the living room after dinner, Kurama laying heavy into Kazuma’s side, his head resting on his shoulder as they watched the evening news. It was quiet, and after half-an-hour of nothing but drivel from the newscaster ( no accidents, fiery car crashes, strange lightning, or the like) Kazuma changed the channel over to something a little more entertaining to take the edge off. The combination of finals kicking his ass for a whole three weeks and finally coming home to two of his partners missing was making his stomach all topsy-turvy. Eikichi curled up in his lap a few minutes later and he smiled and gave her some head pats. She purred and rubbed her cheek against his hand before settling down, kneading at the blanket over his legs. He was still so tired, and the warmth from both Eikichi and Kurama had his eyes drooping soon enough.

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When Kazuma woke again, morning sunlight was filtering in through the blinds of the living room and Eikichi was still curled up in his lap, little paws shielding her eyes from the sun. Kurama was still leaning against him, cuddled snug into Kazuma’s side, but Hiei was now flopped over the other end of the couch, fingers lazily intertwined with Kurama’s in their sleep. Hiei looked insanely peaceful, all snuggled up with a throw blanket haphazardly covering him. Yusuke was nowhere in sight, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t home - if Hiei hadn’t been able to bring him back he’d have woken them. And just as the slight unrest of not seeing Yusuke was settling over him, Kazuma heard the tell-tale click of the coffee pot being switched on followed by the smell of Yusuke’s favorite dark roast. A quiet sound of pans clinking and Yusuke swearing softly under his breath, and Kazuma was carefully wiggling out from under Kurama and apologizing to Eikichi as he placed her on the floor.

Yusuke’s back was to him, cooking away something on the stovetop. Kazuma smiled and walked over to him, wrapping his arms around Yusuke’s waist and kissing his neck.

“We were worried about you, idiot. Where’ve you been?” He rested his chin on Yusuke’s shoulder, glancing absently down at what Yusuke was cooking. Fried eggs, nothing too exciting, but enough for all four of them to eat.

“Yeah, yeah. Hiei already reamed me for making you guys worry, you don’t have to lecture me twice.” Yusuke huffed, leaning back into Kazuma as he flipped the eggs, “You wanna go wake them up while I get everything ready for breakfast?”

Kazuma grinned and kissed his cheek, “Yeah, I’ll get ‘em up.”

#kuwameshi #team urameshi #kuwama #yyh fanfic #2019 #hanneswrites #fluff #under 1k #ficlets #Sept 2019

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myslashyvalentine · 2 years

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The MSV Reveal is Here!

Happy Valentine's Day, everyone!

The big day is finally here and we have an archive with many, many great stories for you to read. This has been My Slashy Valentine's biggest year yet and we could not have done it without every one of you! Congratulations to all our new writers who completed their first swap: Bird, Celsius, elennalore, Ellis, hanneswrites, Heather/Headwig1010, Heather/ohboromir, HeavenOnFire, HewerOfCaves, Hísimirë, iri, Ismene, JazTheBard, kotaka_kun, likethenight, Lithgaeril, Mai, Melesta, Mirien Silowende/Eryn Götz, Pixie, Rats, Rowan Henry, Roselightfairy, Sam, Sebastian, Shadow, Thehufflepuffhobbit, UnknownLifeform, and Verecunda.

Our pinch hitters ensured everyone had a Valentine today, so special shout out to Zhie, Tehhumi and Narya who handled last minute pinch hits with aplomb. You guys are amazing! This has been our biggest group of newcomers yet, please check out their stories and make them feel welcome. Huge thanks as well to all our wonderful veterans who continue to participate and make this swap a vibrant part of the Tolkien community.

And now, for your reading enjoyment… My Slashy Valentine 2022: The Master List! AdmirableMonster wrote King and Lark for Ismene Aglarien wrote In a Heartbeat for Senalishia Aipilosse wrote Don't Carry It All for unknownlifeform Alexcat wrote Mithril and Gold for Jade Argie Jandrew wrote Love's healing flamefor Alex Arvalier wrote From the Beginning for Sylanna Bird wrote Midsummer Thaw for Heather/Headwig1010 Celsius wrote Calm seas for just_one_iota ChrissyStriped wrote Second Lives, Second Chances for Nuedhel crownlessliestheking wrote creation's favored companions for Sebastian elennalore wrote Your Gravity Is Pulling Me Closer for HeavenOnFire elfscribe wrote The White Tree for SkyEventide Ellis wrote into forever, farwell and farewell for red_lasbelin Elvie wrote out of dreams into the sun for raiyana Fey wrote My World for Beth Grace wrote Would That I for hennethgalad Grundy wrote The Beginning of A Beautiful Friendship for lynndyre hanneswrites wrote poppies for likethenight Heather/Headwig1010 wrote Splinters for Ellis Heather/ohboromir wrote Flowers After Spring for Libby HeavenOnFire wrote To Ashes for astorey_91 hennethgalad wrote "If we shadows have offended" for Pixie HewerOfCaves wrote Ages of Secrets for Lithgaeril Hísimirë wrote The Worth of Values for Mai ignoblebard wrote Echoes in Eternity for UnnamedElement iri wrote Lean into the wind for Bird Ismene wrote And Now I Hear a Symphony for elennalore Jade wrote Dinner and Dessert for Phyncke JazTheBard wrote Party of Two for Rats just_one_iota wrote from the high heavens for Rowan Henry Katrina wrote Promise for keiliss keiliss wrote A Glint of Gold for red_lasbelin kotaka_kun wrote fellowship of the night for Roselightfairy LadyLaran wrote Unexpected Laughter for Arvalier Libby wrote and you look at me like i was someone else for Hísimirë likethenight wrote Until You No Longer Need Me for Verecunda Lithgaeril wrote A Meeting of Minds (and Hearts) for LadyLaran lynndyre wrote Tyrn Gorthad for Mirien Silowende / Eryn Götz Mai wrote Stone Heart for Grace mangacrack wrote The Work of my Hands for Nuinzilien Mawgy wrote Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder for Tabru Melesta wrote Monster for iri Mirien Silowende / Eryn Götz wrote Fanning the flames for HewerOfCaves ♥ Narya wrote Seeing Stars for SatiricalDraperies Nuinzilien wrote Crafting a Future for JazTheBard Nuredhel wrote From these hands... for mangacrack Oshun wrote The Pastry Shop for Samtyr phyncke wrote Aftermath for Melesta Pixie wrote Across the Sea for Mawgy RaisingCaiin wrote we always knew we would be lost at sea for Ignoblebard raiyana wrote I spoke no words (I called your name) for ChrissyStriped Rats wrote Anniversary in Springtime for Shadow red_lasbelin wrote look for you in daylight for Aglarien Rowan Henry wrote Hold Your Fire for AdmirableMonster Roselightfairy wrote broken bodies, steadfast hearts for kotaka_kun Sam wrote Our Love will Never Drought for Fey Samtyr wrote Heir Conditioning for Tinure SatiricalDraperies wrote Flux (Always) for Elvie Sebastian wrote Aftermaths for crownlessliestheking Senalishia wrote A Bed of Thorns for Aipilosse Shadow wrote Golden Bride & Silver Queen for Grundy starlightwalking wrote Treasures Most Precious for Sam Sylanna wrote Ideas of Light for starlightwalking Tabru wrote i-rad ely for elfscribe ♥ Tehhumi wrote when you left in the dead of the night for Heather/ohboromir Thehufflepuffhobbit wrote If You're With Me, Then Everything's Alright for hanneswritess Tinure wrote Alone until we weren't for Celsius UnknownLifeform wrote Look at me for Katrina Ysilme wrote Water Under The Bridge for Argleena Verecunda wrote To Paths That Lead Home for thehufflepuffhobbit ♥ Zhie wrote Zwischenzug for RaisingCaiin ♥ Zhie wrote Indulgences for Oshun ♥ Zhie wrote Elrond Peredhel's Second Best Tea Blend East of the Sea for Ysilme

————— ♥ denotes a pinch hit or a treat. A big thank you to our pinch hitters this round; they stepped up to make sure everyone got a Valentine's Day story! Special thanks to Zhie for last minute saves executed with grace..If you need a link to the full collection, it is right here: 2022 My Slashy Valentine Collection Happy Valentine’s day, everyone! Please be sure to thank your writers. Red and Kei The MSV Mods

#my slashy valentine #tolkien fanfiction #tolkien slash #tolkien femslash #queer tolkien #soooo much fic!!!#msv_2022 #msv_22

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saintmairon · 3 years

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Firelight -- TRSB 2021

read it here | full artwork here

a collaboration between myself @saintmairon and @hanneswrites here on tumblr!!

rating: E

warnings: no warnings apply

relationships: Morgoth Bauglir | Melkor/Sauron | Mairon

characters: Sauron | Mairon, Morgoth Bauglir | Melkor, Gothmog (Lord of Balrogs), Thuringwethil (Tolkien)

word count: 5006

blurb: Mairon & Melkor get married and have an overall fluffy time. Featuring Wedding Fluff & Wedding Night Shenanigans.

@tolkienrsb

#trsb21 #sol's art #melkor #morgoth #mairon #sauron #angbang #angbang fic #tolkien #silmarillion #silm fic #silm fanart #have not had a chance to read yet but i am PUMPED

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hillibillibob · 2 years

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A colored sketch commission for my wonderful sister @hanneswrites

#art #artist #digital art #Digital Illustration #digital artist #commission #commissions

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cursedhue · 3 years

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@hanneswrites Happy Valentine’s day! I know it’s already April, but I finished my gift to you! Please forgive me that it is very late. I wanted to write, but I didn’t have time, so I drew, but I was dumped with projects, academic and not, so it got really pushed back. But it’s here now! :D

#hattori heiji #kudo shinichi #dcmk #heishin

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shirpowbra · 2 years

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commissioned by @/hanneswrites on instagram I tried making a comic using my lineless style so hopefully it looks okay.

#commissions #digital art #art #comics #original characters #commission art #art commission

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cockneydio · 3 years

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🎄JJBA Secret Santa🎄 ((Fic)) “Close To You”

Happy Boxing Day to the lovely and talented @hanneswrites! This is my first time writing Giomis seriously, and I had to take the opportunity to do a little Hurt/Comfort because hey, but also Getting Together because Hey!

Inspired in part by this amazing gorgeous emotional piece by @/robobesito on Twitter. I haven’t stopped thinking about this all month, and I’ve been trying to craft something even remotely close to what this art makes me feel.

I hope you like it, and the version I’m sure I’m going to rewrite in a month because I’m an obsessive disaster 🤗

TITLE: Close To You

FANDOM: JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure (Part 5)

PAIRING: Giorno Giovanna/Guido Mista

RATING: M for heavy themes, but T+ content-wise

WARNINGS: Religion & Church stuff but with a whole lot of poetic license, Christmas, Holidays, post-canon (spoilers), mention of past child abuse

SUMMARY: Giorno Giovanna and Guido Mista have vastly different associations with the last month of the year. December 2001 promises to be the most challenging one of their young lives. But maybe, together, they can get through it.

Close To You

The holidays were going to suck this year.

Guido Mista loved them, usually. The countdown to Christmas started with a party on his birthday, December 3rd. His sisters and their friends would spend all day making sweets and decorating, and in the evening the whole neighborhood would come over with food and presents and tell Mista what a fine man he was becoming and praise the good care he took of his mom and the girls. The rest of the month was a bustle of celebration and activity - building care packages for the needy, taking the nonnas to mass, getting a lira here or there for being such a good boy. That wasn't the point though, he'd remind himself. This is the time for giving, Guido, his father once said. Give of yourself to your neighbor and he will give you thanks. Give of yourself to God and He will give you His blessing.

After his father was gone, Mista tried to live his life with something like that principle in mind. Even when caring for his neighbor yielded him not thanks but a life sentence. Even when his deepest prayers went unanswered. He was saved, eventually, but condemned to the only life a condemned man could lead, at the cost of all of those things he used to love. No more neighbors or family.

How strange it was, then, that that December would be the most special of his life. Not six months out of prison, and there he was surrounded by a ragtag assembly of boys just as screwed up or screwed as him, all raising a glass to his 18th birthday. Mista wouldn't dare call them family, too macho for sentimental shit like that. But all five of them, perched here and there on mismatched furniture in the cold air, forgetting for a second the job that brought them together - it sure as hell felt like home.

Giorno Giovanna never really understood them. Even ten years living in a Catholic country hadn't inured him to the idea of virgin birthdays and supposedly wise men bringing gold and perfume to a baby they didn't know. He figured out quickly that visits to church around this time were mostly for appearances - mom in a demure dress that for once didn't show the skin on her chest, stepfather shaved clean and in his best suit, Giorno in any suit - the façade of a happy family. But Giorno would live the truth after every mass, hours of sermons that seemed like attacks on his stepfather's very character distilled into rage he could take out on Giorno's hide. Not in the face, mother would say. We have pictures in the morning.

Boarding school showed him the more festive side of Christmas. Big pine trees popped up all over campus, and this club or that would claim each one to decorate. It seemed pointless, to Giorno. The trees were dead, chopped down in their prime, needles' green prolonged with a bit of sugar water for a few weeks of merriment, then tossed into the furnace.

Only kids like him, who didn't go home around this time, knew about that last part. The kids who weren't like him returned in January with new things, handheld video games that were always confiscated by the end of the month, casual clothes for dates with friends, their own cell phones. Giorno never got new things.

The holidays were going to suck, this year.

For Giorno, Christmastime carried the weight of expectation. Despite his youth, Don Giovanna was now capo of capos, established as a leader of the people, in his mentor's image. The community would be scandalized, his new and fragile reputation tarnished perhaps forever, if he made even the slightest misstep during this time. He needed to relearn everything he'd blissfully forgotten about Christmas, and pretend to care about it.

For Mista, every passing day in December would hammer home the gulf of loss he'd suffered in such a short span of his young life. His family had disowned him. The makeshift family he'd built from scratch was gone. There was nothing to celebrate, no one to share the joy.

Almost.

It happened by accident, as the best things often do. The sound of butchered Latin caught Mista's ear one evening, and he couldn't help but investigate. After hours, after Giorno grew weary of the sycophants and dismissed everyone for the day, he and the turtle-bound spirit of Jean Pierre Polnareff began the study session: what prayers to say when, how to carry the tune of the most important hymns. Giorno was mostly hopeless, but it was a valiant effort. And a devastatingly funny one, to Guido Mista.

You would ask the French turtle for help before your purebred Roman Catholic gunman?

Criticism in the guise of playful banter, the kind only Mista could speak to the Don and leave with his tongue intact.

I believe I've heard you calling for God a time or two, but I think that's what the Pope would call blasphemy.

That sort of innuendo, just on the near side of flirtation, that had been torturing Mista for months on end.

Giorno acquiesced, and proved to be a better study with devoted company. Stories of Mista's childhood trickled out with each lesson, anecdotes at first, to help ground the arcane ceremonial stuff in something tangible. But they turned into something else before either of them knew it. Prayer books would lie forgotten on the table in favor of mulled wine and talk about what life was like before all this.

When I was your age, Mista would say.

You mean, like, two years ago? Giorno would point out. And the absurdity of their station in life, master and protector of all of Campania's criminal underground, would make them laugh, put things in perspective, if only for a little while.

And it helped Mista forget, a bit, about December 3rd. His birthday came and went this year, much like Giorno's, unnoticed, too much to do and deadlines everywhere. Don Giovanna had engagements daily, showing the magnanimity of Passione's new regime with gifts to orphanages, taking communion in congregations where certain politicians and businessmen needed a wake-up call. And of course, Giorno performed flawlessly. Christmas Day barely even registered amid the flurry of activity; in a way, just like old times.

But there was still something missing. Those stories Mista told only went up to the year 2000. There were old times that weren't so old, traditions that were cut short before they even had a chance to begin, and reminiscing beyond Me and the guys would hang out on the balcony... was too much to ask.

One last holiday, this year. And Giorno was going to make certain it wouldn't suck.

I'd like to thank you for tutoring me, Mista. It was an invitation, not a statement of gratitude, and one Mista knew he couldn't dismiss out of modesty.

Ten o'clock on New Year's Eve, the limousine approached the lakeside cottage he'd been calling home for the last six months. Inside was a warmly dressed Giorno Giovanna, casual but crisp.

I could have walked up to the villa.

Nonsense. You're my guest this evening.

The only words the pair would exchange, for now. Mista, focusing his attention out the window, curious. Giorno, grateful for the opportunity to kill the doubts in his head. As soon as the car made the turn for the shitty part of downtown, Mista got the clue.

Why are we going to my old place? Unless you're taking me for Sam's Spaghetti...

Mista hadn't been to his apartment since he tore through in April, collecting the few personal items that mattered and closing the door on the memories it contained. Giorno had the foresight to keep it, though. Bought the entire building, in fact, mostly to forestall anyone who might like to dig for leftover dirt.

I have a surprise. Usually that would be enough. But- I hope you're ok with it...

The first thing Mista noticed inside was the state of affairs. It looked exactly the same as it did the day he left, as chaotic and messy as ever. He smiled to himself, oddly grateful Giorno didn't take it upon himself to tidy up. Because the next thing he noticed were the signs that Giorno had been here earlier. A candelabra with three white candles glowed in the window. Familiar music played on the ancient record player Mista had regretted not grabbing. And the French doors to the balcony were open, welcoming Mista back to the place where Me and the guys would never congregate again.

But Giorno couldn't have brought him here just to break his heart. A look over his shoulder for explanation revealed a nervous kid who was in too deep to back out now, squeezing the neck of a classical guitar and staring back at Mista with the intensity of the sun.

Mista took up his favorite seat on the balcony, waiting for Giorno to finish setting up whatever was left of the surprise he had in store. The record player stopped, skipped around, then spun that wonderful anticipatory silence before sound. Giorno timed it out, made it to the balcony and picked up the guitar with a moment to spare for a deep breath before strumming along to the delicate piano chords Mista would know anywhere.

Why do birds suddenly appear, every time you are near...

Giorno barely made it through the second verse before the tears started to fall from Mista's face. He forged on, determined to say what was in his heart, but there was no fighting the frog in his own throat. They sat there on the balcony, sobbing silently into the cold December air, finally letting themselves feel all the things they'd been too busy or stubborn or devastated to feel. And then Mista was on his feet, pulling Giorno into his chest like a lifering.

I love you, too.

They held each other as the clock struck midnight, signaling a new year, new times, new love.

#i loved writing this #it came out more or less how i wanted?#altho their relationship is so so so so much more complex i could write volumes #and i will!#jjba secret santa 2020 #jjba-secret-santa-2020 #giorno giovanna #guido mista #giomis #jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo fic #fanfiction #calliope writes #secret santa #vento aureo #i'll add ao3 links eventually

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nagararitsu · 3 years

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merry christmas @hanneswrites!! here’s your @dcmksecretsanta gift!!

bonus:

#dcmksecretsanta #hakukai #sagukai #hakuba saguru #kuroba kaito #detective conan #magic kaito #dcmk #i art

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concernedcrisis · 3 years

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Traditions Told Trough Time

- Tolkien Secret Santa Gift Exchange -

Gift for : @hanneswrites

1403 word count.

(Sorry its not the best, its my first writen fic)

Please note that I am not an expert in any of the holiday traditions mentioned and am only educating my writing through what it have tried to learn online. I wanted to attempt to stick tothe canonically predicted religions of Dwarves and Hobbits and am greviously sorry if I offend anyone with my ignorence, please contact me and I will fix the errors I have made. This is by no means an educational fic, but just one i wanted to write for fun and to give as a gift.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!!

This life is long. Old.

It has been said that the world you may know as ‘Middle Earth’ is as ancient as time, and by relation I suppose that I am of that classification as well. For I know near nothing of the time before my creation, yet everything of the time afterwards.

By the hands of my father, the creator, I was given the great purpose of observing all that is and all that occurs. Not, of course, as an overwatching deity of mass power like my later brothers and sisters of the Valar, nor as a physical body or protector able to personally interact within the world itself like my brothers of the Maiar, but as the spirit of Arda itself.

It is in saying this that I am, in a sense, all. I am the mountains as they grow and the sky that they reach for. I am the valleys and the plains, and I am the rivers that run to the sea.

But I digress.

Father continued to create as the ages progressed, with myself and my brethren as his doting observers.

As the eldest I was entrusted with ensuring the physical plain was well prepared and maintained, and for watching over the progress of his mortal progeny, the peoples of elves and of men.

However, it seemed that he was not the only being with the power to create, should the existence of Aule’s Dwarrow and Yavanna’s Halflings, among the creations of the other Valar, not to mention my own creation of the elements and the animals be any indicator.

In this tangent of mine, the purpose for its unraveling is to highlight a note.

Throughout all my years, none have enticed my curiosity such as the peoples inhabiting the lands of Arda who, unlike my own children, have become creators among themselves through the image and influence of their makers.

Whilst the animals and elements may have minds of their own and may work together or against each other in the greater ecosystem, peoples of Elves, Men, Dwarrow, and of Halflings have created diversely advanced and cultured societies capable of peace and of war.

It is in their evolution and interactions amongst each other that they truly astonish me. For I have seen their traditions and cultures evolve, and I have seen the values they hold as the result of being made in the valars' image, but I also note their ability to adapt and derive from the values or traditions of their creators.

Yet their greatest achievements are the relationships grown amongst each other in times of necessity, such as those within the recent centuries.

This may or may not coincide with the amusing schemes of my younger maiar brother Olorin, largely in his attempts of thwarting the disciples of Morgoth and, of course, as an act of his self proclaimed skill at ‘match-making’.

Amongst all of his efforts to fulfill the role of protector of ‘Middle Earth’ and her peoples, it may be noted that he has, in the past, found the most success within situations containing both a dire journey to liberate peaceful peoples from great evil or oppression, and at least one, if not many, unwitting lovesick fools in need of a little push. Perhaps more of a shove.

One such journey was his ‘adventure’ amongst the company of king under the mountain in exile, Thorin Oakenshield. Olorin, being a man of many names, utilized his identity as a wizard in the form of an elderly man under the name of ‘Gandalf’.

In retrospect, I must say that I almost pity any bachelor or bachelorette that crosses his path, especially those among the halflings, as their participation within his master plans is more often than not reluctant and abrupt in the beginning. This is not to mention his lack of transparency with party members, leaving them unawares of the great importance or danger of their quest.

One such soul would be known as Master Bilbo Baggins, prior resident ‘burglar’ of Thorin Oakenshield’s company of dwarrow. Being a well bred ‘gentle hobbit’, descending from two noble families, amongst a band of thirteen seemingly unruly dwarrow, and on a perilous mission to steal from a dragon did not find Master Baggins well accommodated to his company nor life on the road.

However, I am shocked by the resilience of Arda’s peoples yet again. For as the company drew nearer to their destination, and closer bonds grew among them with each new peril, the cultures of each peoples interviewed and yet shone clearer than before. This is particularly evident after the events leading to the company's descent from the carrock and amongst their stay at the great bear ‘Beorn’s’. What I observed on one noteworthy day tells the tale of a soon to be successful match on my brothers behalf.

Bilbo had become, in some way, adopted by the Dwarven company with the acceptance of him by their King, Thorin. Yet there were still many things he had to learn of the customs of the Dwarrow, and the Dwarrow of the customs of the Halflings. In such a situation, it is only reasonable to assume that some misunderstandings may occur.

Enjoying a quiet afternoon sat amongst the company in the home of Beorn, Bilbo wondered at the strange behaviours of his friends the last few days since arriving at their new found safe haven.

Seven nights ago Thorin had approached their host to request permission to make use of metal and wax, amongst other equipment. Later he returned with a newly crafted item, such as Master Baggins had never seen. A candle holder it seemed, yet when the main body leading from its foot reached the point where a candle would be held, he was bewildered to find that there was not one, but eight. Why one would need that many candles lit in the one space, Bilbo did not know.

Each night since, the leader had lit one candle, claiming it to be a tradition. One which Bilbo happily observed. Interesting too were the actions of each company member two nights ago, the night of the sixth candle. Each member, in his own time, approached their host and inquired about the use of certain materials and tools. All members offered the full amounts of coinage on their person as compensation, but when told that payment was not necessary due to their need to preserve funds, they relented with promises to reimburse once the treasure was reclaimed.

All the while, the Hobbit had racked his brains for any resemblance of these traditions and odd occurrences in contrast with that of his own people.

Since childhood, as was tradition, he and his family had celebrated Yuletide. Each winter solstice his family lay out a Yule log to burn for twelve days, fueled by the remains of the last, and within the centre of Hobbiton the party tree was decorated with thousands of bright lights.

It seemed that there were some similarities between the two cultures, being that the Dwarrow too decorated a tree of lights. Yet Bilbo had never seen their eight candle holder, and they in turn had never burnt a Yule Log.

On the eighth and final night of their Dwarven celebration, all were gathered to watch the final candle be lit. With the fire of Beorn’s hearth roaring in the background, gifts were exchanged.

The Burglar and the King were sat side by side, and a gift exchanged from the later to the former. A set of old hair beards, made by Thorin in his youth and carried as all Dwarves do throughout his lives to someone of great importance to him.

Though the Hobbit did not know of the implications this gift held, nor of the significance behind allowing his friend to braid them into his hair, he still fell to a peaceful sleep beside him, surrounded by the family they had grown.

Certainly, they were not the first to share sacred traditions between a love from another race, nor were they the last. But the story of the king and his burglar proves to show that the peoples of middle earth are far greater than they think themselves to be, perhaps even greater than the Valar themselves. For they create not only life amongst their kin and society, but have the nature to expand and accept others for their differences as well.

#tss2020 #Canon time divergence #Jewish inspired dwarves #Pagan inspired hobbits #LOTR #The Hobbit #Thilbo #Thorin/Bilbo #I ramble too much #First Fic

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sagurus · 4 years

Link

For Saguru, knowing Kuroba is an impossible want, but he's getting closer all the time. If only Kuroba wouldn't let him in only to pull back time and time again.

Here’s my gift for @hanneswrites for the @dcmksecretsanta event! There's a bit more yet to come but I figured it was time to put up what I've finished.

As a side to the gift, this is the playlist I wrote to, which heavily influenced the narrative arc.

#hakuba saguru #kuroba kaito #sagukai #hakukai #dcmk #dcmk secret santa 2k19

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hanneswrites · 5 years

Text

gotta go back in time

Pairings: Gabriel/Sam Winchester

Rating: T

Word Count: 365

Summary/Tags: A witch sends Sam back in time & he meets someone he thought he'd never see again. || Past, but Established Sam/Gabriel, Accidental Time Travel, Episode: s02e18 Tall Tales

Written for @gabriel-spn-bingo Square filled: Time Travel.

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Sam groaned as he picked himself up from the floor, his wrist stinging as he put pressure on it - probably a strain, hopefully not a break. He blinked, realized that he was no longer in a warehouse, and the witch that had been less than three feet from him was gone as well. There was speckled linoleum beneath his fingers and as Sam took a look around, he noticed he was in a hallway that looked oddly familiar. He remembered this - the tan brick walls, the old wooden display cases, the stairway at the end of the corridor, and as he turned, he heard the telltale sound of a spring-lock door opening behind him.

And then? A fond click of a tongue and an all-too-familiar voice called out to him, “Did you get lost there, detective?” Sam’s heart was in his throat in an instant.

"Gabe?" Sam whispered, turning and moving toward him faster than he probably should have, with his head still spinning from being knocked around by that witch. But it’s Gabriel , here, now, right in front of him, and Sam couldn’t help but reach out for him as he stumbled closer. Gabriel took a step back, his eyes wide and his trademark grin quickly transformed into a frightened scowl. He was wearing a navy jumpsuit, his hair shorter than the last time Sam had seen him, but that didn’t matter now.

"What?" Gabriel breathed, taking another step back, but Sam had him, his fingers closing around his wrist. Sam pulled him close, his face buried in Gabriel's hair the instant they made contact. And it only occurred to him moments later, how strange the situation was. How he'd been in a warehouse minutes before, and yet now he stood in a university corridor, his dead lover cradled in his arms. And he remembered, then, why this place looked so familiar. He looked down, his heart still pounding in his throat, expecting to see a demon, a ghost, or some eldritch monstrosity in place of where Gabriel had just been. Instead, Gabriel threw him, quite literally, into a wall, and all Sam heard before he blacked out was the sound of snapping fingers.

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#sabriel #samgabe #gabriel bingo #gabriel bingo 2019 #gabrielbingo2019 #spn fanfic #hanneswrites #ficlets #under 1k

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spncanonbigbang · 5 years

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Masterpost 2019

That’s a wrap on SPN Canon Big Bang 2019! You'll find the list of this year’s bangs below the cut.

Thank you to everyone who participated!

Enjoy, and see you in January 2020!

| 2017 | 2018 | 2019 | 2020

Cleanse the Waters by li_izumi | art by ThePlaidFox

16,4; Teen and Up Audiences; Castiel/Dean Winchester

Castiel’s multitude of sins haunt him in ways all too human, but water cannot cleanse him when he is drowning in his own guilt. Over the years, he’s tried to ignore his fear–after all, no one needs a broken angel–but he keeps failing and needing to be saved by those he should be saving. If Castiel is ever to be absolved, he must overcome his fear and walk into the water alone.

It’s All In The Eyes by YokubouNoRain. | art by Leafzelindor.

5k; Teen and Up Audiences; Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester

When Sam took the Baozhu pearl on his hands, he didn’t realize what his truly wish was until that moment and Dean didn’t seem to be happy with Sam’s wish.

Heaven is a Place on Earth by kaianieves | art by pimentogirl

19,5k; Teen and Up Audiences; Charlie Bradbury/Jo Harvelle

Charlie Bradbury has been on the road for as long as she can remember, couch to couch and car to car. Parties, drinking- they’ve never been her favourite things, but they’ve been there. She’s never considered any place her home, though. Until she arrived at Harvelle’s Roadhouse. Until she met Jo.

how many years i’ve missed you by hanneswrites | art by deanirae

5,1k; Teen and Up Audiences; Gabriel/Sam Winchester, (unrequited) Becky Rosen/Sam Winchester

Sam has been in a relationship with Gabriel for almost two years now, so when Gabriel gets a call from Sam saying he’s getting married to someone other than himself, he’s rightfully pretty confused.

At Any Cost by klove0511 | art by leafzelindor

18,1k; Explicit; Lisa Braeden/Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester

When Sam came back from Hell, he felt different. He couldn’t put his finger on what had changed, but the buzzing under his skin was definitely new. It didn’t matter, though. Whatever it was, Dean would help him figure it out. The only problem was that Dean is happily retired in Indiana with Lisa. He deserved that happiness; Sam should just let him have that, right?

A Brother’s Mission by Clowns_or_Midgets | art by Zolaliz

16,6k; Teen and Up Audiences; Gen

When Dean and Castiel disappear after killing Dick Roman, Sam knows it’s going to take sacrifice to get them back. After an appointment with Doctor Robert that is almost his last, he finds someone to help. In return for joining a fight against the King of Hell he can have twenty-four hours in Purgatory to find his brother and friend. It’s a straight swap, a chance, and Sam takes it. It’s what you do for family.

Angel Cuddles by noiproksa | art by love-nakamura

5,5k; Teen and Up Audiences; Castiel/Dean Winchester

Angels need a lot of physical contact, especially when in a human vessel. - Dean is determined to give Cas the ‘physical contact’ he requires. Cas is more than suspicious when suddenly, Dean starts touching him more and more.

Red and Gold by sarasaurussex | art by deanirae and pimentogirl

25,9k; Explicit; Gabriel/Sam Winchester, Crowley/Gabriel, Crowley/Gabriel/Sam Winchester, background Castiel/Dean Winchester

Back from the dead and acting strange, Gabriel finds himself in debt to Crowley. In order to free himself he must fulfill a contract by spying on the Winchesters, who are trying to shut the Gates of Hell. But after Sam catches Gabriel spying on him in the shower (naturally), the contract is voided and Gabriel finds himself enslaved to Crowley as payment. Sam figures out Gabriel’s deal with the devil and tries to help, but ends up caught up in it himself. Eventually, Sam and Crowley discover the cause of Gabriel’s strange behavior, and the unlikely trio of heroes and villains come together to save their favorite feathered frenemy from an even greater threat.

When In Lebanon by smalltrolven | art by winchesterchola

9,4k; Explicit; Sam Winchester/Dean Winchester

Sam has some unfinished business with the teddy bear from the Lebanon pawn shop. Since the pearl didn’t work on getting Michael out of Dean, maybe the bear can get the job done.

Angels with Dirty Faces by BurningWicker | art by Anyrei

18,8k; Mature; Gadreel/Sam Winchester, mentions of Dean/Cas

Sam finds a case just a handful of hours away from the bunker, doesn’t exactly lie to his brother, and takes off all on his own to investigate a pair of dead twins. He finds himself knee-deep in a mysterious set of coincidences including lottery wins, an amnesiac angel, and a bartender with a knowing smirk and a sweet tooth.

Mr. Blue Sky by anyrei & mugglerock | art by Huntress79

111k; Explicit; Castiel/Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester/Eileen Leahy, Claire Novak/Kaia Nieves

The British Men of Letters had done a pretty thorough job ridding the world of monsters. With Sam already out of the life, living with Eileen in California, Dean and Cas are faced with a new predicament. What to do with the rest of their lives?

Clearly the only logical option was to try out the apple pie life thing as two best friends, right?

Wrong Reality by AvalonSilver | art by Cross-Roads-Blues

20,2k; Teen and Up Audiences; Gen

With Sam near death following the failed Third Trial, Dean calls for Castiel to come. Castiel manages to heal Sam. Soon, they are faced with the consequences of Castiel’s actions. Sam and Dean are placed in another reality with seemingly simple instructions. Unfortunately, the brothers soon find out what they need to do to set things right is anything but simple. As Sam and Dean face down another apocalypse, they need to persuade this other reality’s Jimmy Novak to sacrifice himself.

#supernatural #supernatural fanfic #spn fanfic #fanfic masterpost #spncbb #masterpost #masterpost 2019

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