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#we slept under the stars and spent our days laying down on the grass
filmforwomen · 3 months
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had the most wonderful trip w my friends, we went to cordoba and spent 10 days camping and cooking and swimming on lakes, just enjoying our summer vacation and being happy together and I’m just so overwhelmed and filled w love and peace like this is truly what life is about uh
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adminbryantsaki · 3 years
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Tick Tock
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(Hello there, I’m back with the Bnharem’s collab. This month is a Soulmate’s AU. I picked Aizawa. And decided to throw Hizashi at him then throw them into a closet to see what the results are. I hope you enjoy what I put together for you all. I don’t own Shouta Aizawa/ Eraserhead or Hizashi Yamada/ Present Mic. Horikoshi Kohei does. Here is where you can read all the other stories and art done for this collab. And here is my own master list. The banner was made by @nocturnalazura. If this isn’t your cup of tea, blend of spices, or brew of coffee, move on.)
Tw: ABO, mentioning of a heat/rut cycle, mentioning of male pregnancy, slightly abusive household.
Wc: 3,683
Aizawa stared at the timer on his forearm. It read about a week left before he would meet his soulmate. He had the entrance exam to U.A in a week. Would he meet his soulmate then? He didn’t know and at the moment he didn’t really care. He heard his dad call him to come down for breakfast before he sent him off to go training. He didn’t want to go training. He wanted to lay in bed and not have anything to do and not have to go anywhere.
“Shouta! Time for breakfast!” His dad called from the base of the stairs. He groaned and slid out of his bed and stumbled into the bathroom to get changed and help his brain wake up a bit before he had to face his father. He looked at the little bright green and red moon on the underside of his left wrist. He was glad that it was still there. He noticed some music notes appear on his arm like on a music sheet. He was a little confused by it but waved it off as something his soulmate doing. He finished getting dressed and pulled on a hoodie to hide the writing on his arm. He walked downstairs where his family was sitting having breakfast.
“Good morning, Shouta. Did you sleep well?” His mom asked as he sat down at the table. “I slept fine.” He spoke as he served himself some eggs and miso soup. He ate in silence before his father lowered his newspaper and addressed him. “Son, did you see that other boy in your dreams again?” He asked with a hint of venom in his voice that his son’s soulmate was another male. Shouta remained silent and looked at the moon tattoo on the inside of his wrist.
“Well? Did you or not? Answer when you’re spoken to, Shouta.” His father said harshly.
“Yes, I saw him again. I see him every night, dad. You need to get used to the fact that my soulmate is another guy!” Shouta retorted.
“Finish your food and get to training. You have to be ready for your entrance exam into U.A.” His father spoke. Shouta remained silent and ate his breakfast. He finished quickly and put his dishes into the sink before he went downstairs and began to warm up. He focused on the days counting down to when he would meet his soulmate and he could get to be free from his family.
§§§§§
Across town, Hizashi was walking down the street to a café that he liked to spend his time after school. He would mostly do his studying there or write out a script for a potential talk show he wanted to have one day. He also likes to draw so he would take his sketchbook and doodle as he thought of ideas for the talk show. He was waiting for his drink since the café’s policy was that you needed to buy something off of their menu to be able to hang out there. Hizashi didn’t have the best relationship with his parents and he seemed like a quiet kid. This was all because of his quirk. His quirk was connected to his voice, and he had a hard time controlling it. He came out of the womb with his quirk in effect. His parents were wary of him growing up and being frustrated or angry. That’s when his voice would get out of control and people within range of him would get injured. He hated hurting people that he cared about so unless he was in his room or their basement that his parents had soundproofed, he remained quiet and hardly spoke in case his quirk activated. He doodled music notes on his arm, not knowing that his soulmate was seeing them. A waitress came over with his drink and he silently thanked them and covered the mark on his neck as he received his drink. The mark that he covered was the Greek letter Alpha. He didn’t want anyone to think that he or his soulmate was an Alpha. He took a sip of his drink and pulled his sketchbook out along with his pencil. He closed his eyes and began to draw.
§§§§§
After Shouta warmed up, he decided to go on a run. This helped him think and clear his mind after his dad upset him.
When his tattoo appeared on his wrist when he was about 10, he was confused and showed his parents. They told him that the moon meant his partner would be a Luna. He was lucky that his soulmate was a Luna as they were rare in the world. His father was just as confused as he was and asked what a Luna was as he had never heard of one. His father took him to a doctor to have it explained. The doctor explained that a Luna was like an Alpha but they were able to conceive and have a litter like some Betas and Omegas did. His dad let out a sigh of relief that day that his son would be able to produce an heir. What if he didn’t want kids? What would happen then? Shouta tried to shake the thoughts out of his mind as he ran around the block again before he went inside. He grabbed his wallet and left the house saying that he would be back by dinner. He walked to his favorite park where several cats he knew hung out there. He went to the swing set and sat lazily on one of the swings before an orange tabby cat came up to him and brushed up against his leg. He reached down and petted its head and smiled. “You’re lucky to be free and not be tied down by a stupid quirk and a greedy father.” He spoke. The cat meowed and sat down. He slid down from the swing and scratched the cat’s head which he got meows of approval. He stayed there with the cat for a little while before he got hungry. He went to the sandwich shop down the road that he had gone to before, unaware of the cat now following him. He entered the shop and noticed the cat trying to sneak in. He knelt down and addressed the cat. “You have to wait out here, baby. I’ll bring something out for you.” He told the cat. They stayed and he went inside. He came back out a few minutes later with a fish sandwich that he shared with the cat. He then walked around town just to kill time before it grew dark. That’s when he began to head home. He walked through the front door and went up to his room just before his mom called him down to wash up. He washed his hands then helped set the table and helped his mom bring food to the table before he sat down. His dad was either down in the den or at work. He hardly was around, and when he was, he would say something rude to either him or his mom. He thanked his mom for working so hard and served himself some of the food. He ate in silence before his mom spoke to him. “How was your day out, Shouta?” She asked as they ate. “It was good. I met a new cat in the park. They followed me to the sandwich shop and I fed them part of tuna sandwich before I just walked around town.” He said in a neutral tone before he took a drink of tea.
“That sounds like an eventful day.” She responded. Shouta nodded and finished his food. He put his plate in the sink before he went up to his room. He grabbed a washable marker and wrote something on his arm to his soulmate. “Hey. How was your day today?” He wrote. On Hizashi’s end, the words appeared on his forearm and he frantically looked around his general area to find some kind of pen or marker to respond. He found a marker and wrote back. “It was fine. Spent some time at a Café drawing. How was yours?” He responded. “My dad still doesn’t like that you’re a guy and that we see each other in our dreams every night.” “Don’t listen to him. We can be happy together when we meet. How long does your timer say?”
Aizawa pushed his sleeve up to see the timer now saying six days. “Six days and change. So, we meet sometime in the next week. I have the entrance exam to U.A. what about you?”
“I’m applying to go there too! I hope we both get in.”
“Me too. I’m going to try and get some sleep. I’ll see you in my dreams.”
“Ok. Sleep well, Shouta. I’ll be there soon.”
He smiled and got changed for bed. He then slid under his covers and closed his eyes. He went to the dreamscape where he typically saw Hizashi. He went about laying in a field of flowers where he would stay until Hizashi joined him. He looked up at the sky and saw that it was filled was with stars. He gazed at them for what felt like hours until he felt someone slide next to him. He looked over and saw Hizashi laying next to him. He smiled softly and held his hand.
“I missed you,” Aizawa spoke quietly. “I missed you too,” Hizashi responded. “Can we just lay here quietly?” He asked. The blonde nodded and he propped himself up on his elbow and ran his fingers through Aizawa’s hair. Shouta hummed and leaned into his touch. Hizashi rubbed circles on the base of his soulmate’s skull which earned him a satisfied groan. He stopped and pulled away as he was afraid that he had hurt him even in their dream realm. Shouta looked up at him confused. “Why’d you stop?” He asked. “I thought I hurt you.” “You didn’t, it felt good. Keep going, please.” Shouta told him. Hizashi sat up and crossed his legs in a sitting position. Shouta shifted so his head rested in his partner’s lap. Hizashi massaged his head until he dozed off and woke back up thanks to his alarm going off. He groaned and held his head. Waking up from the dreamscape like that usually left him in a bad mood and he had a headache. He looked at his phone and saw that it was Saturday. He could sleep in today. He slid back under the covers and went back to the dreamscape. He was lucky to find Hizashi still there looking a little bummed out. “Sorry about that, my alarm went off. I can sleep in today. That means we have more time together.” Shouta said with a soft smile. His partner grinned and hugged him. They laid out on the grass and relaxed. “When we meet in real life, can you do the head massaging thing on me?”
“Of course. I can’t wait to meet you.” He told him and ran his fingers through his soulmate’s hair. He hummed and eventually laid down next to him and held his hand.
“Goodnight, Shouta. I hope you have a good day.” He said before he closed his eyes. Shouta closed his eyes too and woke up to his alarm waking him up. He opened his eyes and pulled his blanket a little tighter before he got out of bed and packed a couple things before, he sneaked out his window and went down the street. He sat down on a bench while he waited for a bus. He pushed his sleeve up and grabbed a marker before he wrote something out on his arm. “I don’t think I can wait six days. I want to meet you now.”
“Aren’t we supposed to wait? What’s going on? Why do you want to rush your timer? Is it something with your dad again?”
“I’m tired of the routine. I want to meet you and spend time with you. It’s getting too hard to not be able to touch you and hold you close.” He wrote back and held his head in his hands. “I’d come to meet you but I have my last music class today. I’m sorry Shouta.” He wrote back. Shouta looked up as the bus pulled up. He got on and paid his fare. He didn’t care where he was going. He just wanted to be away from his parents and his house. He sat in the back of the bus and leaned back. He watched as a few more people boarded the bus and the bus began to drive off. He looked out the window and watched the buildings and landmarks go by. He rode on the bus for a couple of hours before he got off at the mall and spent the rest of the day there. He did catch the bus home knowing he would be scolded for leaving the house without a word. He snuck back into the house only to find his father sitting at the table.
“Shouta. Where have you been today?” He heard his father ask. “Out. I needed to get away from here.” He responded. “You could’ve at least checked in and told us you were alright. You had both me and your mother worried sick.” “I can understand why mom would be worried. But why you? Was it because I didn’t come down and have you give me some kind of training schedule that would take up my whole day? I just want to be a normal kid.” He spoke. “You aren’t normal, Shouta. You have a wonderful gift. Your mother and I want the best for you.” His father said. “Did you ever think that I want this? That I want to have to wear an eyepatch for weeks on end until I can control my quirk out of one eye? I’m tired of it! I want to have breaks! I want to be able to go out and have fun either on my own or be able to actually make friends, did you ever think of that? Do you even listen to my teachers when they’ve told you that I haven’t been able to make friends at school because they only want to be friends with me because of my quirk and that’s it!” He let out. “Go to your room.” His father said. “I plan to!” Shouta yelled before storming to his room and slamming the door shut. He changed into nightclothes and flopped onto his bed and stared at the ceiling until he fell asleep and went into the dreamscape. He met again with Hizashi that night and he told him what had gone on between him and his dad earlier that evening. Hizashi listened and played with his soulmate’s hair as he talked.
“We have what? Five more days until we see each other? We can make it through this, Sho. Don’t worry. “Hizashi spoke and smiled. Shouta sighed and relaxed with his head in the blonde’s lap.
“I’ll do my best not to. I’m just glad we get to see each other every night… I have a question. If we weren’t soulmates... do you think we would be friends?” Shouta asked.
“Yeah! I think we would.” Hizashi responded and kissed his forehead. Shouta gave him a soft smile before drifting back to sleep.
§§§§§
The next five days went by quickly and soon it was the morning of the exam. Shouta grabbed his gym bag and ran downstairs to eat some breakfast before his mom would drop him off at the gate of U.A. He glanced down at his arm and the timer said about half an hour. He was excited and his dad could sense it. “What are you so excited about today?” He asked. “I’m excited for the exam dad,” Shouta responded as he ate his cereal.
“There’s something else. Are you going to meet your soulmate?” He asked. Shouta froze and looked up at him. “How did you know?” He asked. “I was the same way before I met your mother. Good luck on the exam son, I hope you make a good first encounter with your soulmate.” He spoke. Shouta thanked him and his mom drove him up to the gate. Shouta got out and checked his timer again. Only twenty more minutes before he would run into Hizashi. He felt butterflies in his stomach as he was both nervous and excited at the same time. He also had the feeling of wanting to puke his breakfast up. “Good luck, Honey. I’ll be back when the exam is over. Just text me and I’ll be here.” His mom said. He nodded and walked into the school. He was led to the gymnasium where they were given the introduction and rules to the exam. He swore he could feel his soulmate in the room. He pushed his sleeve back again and only fifteen minutes remained. He grabbed a pen and wrote something. “Where are you? I swear I can feel you in the room with me.”
“I don’t think I can see you. It's too dark in here. What training ground are you on?”
Shouta checked the little card he received when he was registered.
“I’m in B, what about you?”
“I’m in the same one. I guess we will see each other out there then?”
“Yeah. I’ve been waiting my whole life for this.”
“Me too.”
The instructions were given out and all of the students were told to get changed into whatever they were going to wear for the exam. Shouta got changed into his workout clothes and a basic form of a kind of scarf he used in his training to capture villains. He practically ran to the fake city where his soulmate, himself, and a few hundred other hopeful students were hoping to get into this school. He arrived along with a few others and looked around the small group trying to spot the blonde hair of his soulmate. He checked his timer again and only five minutes remained. He groaned and watched as other kids like himself arrived. He watched his timer count down and reach the last thirty seconds before he squatted down and watched the numbers tick down to zero. Someone was standing over him and he knew that the person standing behind him was his soulmate. His eyes widened and he stood up. “Hizashi?”
“Hi, Shouta. It’s nice to finally meet you in person.” He spoke.
Shouta slowly turned around and saw his face. He raised his hands shakily and cupped his face. He didn’t care if people were watching them. He let his bottled-up emotions pour out and hug his soulmate. “Hey, hey. I’m glad we could finally meet too. The exam is gonna start soon. “I know I just never thought I’d get to meet you, even if the timer ran out.” He told him. He pulled away and held Hizashi’s hands and looked into his eyes. He felt a weight lifted off his shoulders.
“You ready to go get into U.A.?” Shouta asked.
“You bet. Let’s do this!” Hizashi responded. §§§§§
After the exam was over, they were told that they would get letters in the mail in a few weeks as to if they got into the school or not. The pair were leaving the school when Shouta’s stomach growled. “Do you want to grab some lunch? I know a good place around here.” Hizashi suggested. “Sure. Let me text my mom.” Shouta responded as he pulled his phone out and told his mom that he was going to get some food with Hizashi and she responded wishing them to have a good time. They held hands going down the mountain and to a café where they got some food. They sat down in the café and talked for a bit. Shouta looked intensely at his soulmate. “Do you have a symbol somewhere on your body? I have a red and green crescent moon on my wrist. I’m guessing it means that you’re a Luna?” He asked.
“Yeah. I got a little ‘a’ on my neck. I was told that it means you’re an Alpha. I was told when I hit puberty and my dynamic manifested was that I’m a Luna. I don’t know if you looked it up or not but it’s a variant of an Alpha.” He explained. Shouta looked a little confused and leaned back. “So, you’re like me. But not?” “I have both a rut and a heat. So, in the future, I can have kids if we ever want any.” He spoke. Shouta blushed hard and hid his face. He then ate his food. Then they spent the rest of the day together. Shouta even got to spend the night at Hizashi’s place that night.
A few weeks later they both got their acceptance letters into U.A. The both of them celebrated by having a sleepover and then getting supplies that they would need in class. The day of them going to U.A. inched closer as they grew more in love. Shouta did spend one heat cycle with Hizashi before school started and he marked him. The mark appeared as a simple cat head.
They walked into school hand in hand. They were in for one hell of a life together.
The end.
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writesowhatnext · 4 years
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easier done than said // poe dameron
Summary: Poe does love you - he’s shown that, but can he tell you?
Request: non
A/N: I’ve seen this type of thing around before so I was hoping I could do something cute with it.
Reader: female
Warnings: swearing, injury, hospital
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There are many different ways to say I love you without actually saying it: a kiss goodnight; an ‘I hate you’ between laughter; a heartfelt ‘stay safe’. Before Poe said it to you the first time, he’d said it four times in ways you barely understood until much, much later.
I:
The first time Poe had said it, you were sure that he’d been joking; he didn’t really trust you with BB-8, surely.
You stormed towards him, rushing to catch up as he walked towards his x-wing. He was risking his life, again, for the stupidest reason, trying to be the Resistance’s single-handed salvation. You knew that if anyone could do it, it would be Poe, but that didn’t mean you were happy to risk it.
“What the hell are you thinking, Poe?” you hissed, matching his pace. “You’re gonna get yourself killed.”
His expression was deadpan as you reached the ship, crossing your arms and watching him pick BB-8 up.
“I’m not gonna get myself killed.”
You raised your eyebrow, pointing at the orange and white droid.
“Oh yeah? Who’s gonna look after BB-8  after we fish his little droid body from the wreckage of your x-wing?”
With BB-8 now in place, he turned to face you, placing a gentle hand on your elbow. He stared at you, rubbing his thumb up and down. You were partially taken back but how gentle and sincere he seemed. His eyes were full of emotion, shining in the sunlight.
“First of all,” his voice was soft. “Don’t objectify him.”
You scoffed, shoving his arm off of you as his face broke into a smile. Nerf herder.
“Second, I can trust you to look after him if anything goes wrong, which it won’t.” He began to climb into the ship, shooting you a bright grin.
“Bullshit: you don’t trust anyone to take care of him.”
Poe rocked his head to the side, conceding your point with a shrug. You rolled your eyes, huffing as he continued to prepare himself for the flight.
“You better not get yourself killed today, Dameron. Or this little droid will be an orphan.”
Taking that as a sign of you surrendering, his smile widened. You rolled your eyes, beginning to walk away from him to go monitor the mission with the General. At least there you could keep an eye on him.
“I do trust you!” he yelled from behind you, enjoying the teasing far too much. You didn’t reply, only throwing your hand behind you to send him an obscene hand gesture. You couldn’t help but smile at the loud laughter that followed.
II:
The second time Poe said it had been in thanks to one of the kindest gestures you had ever performed. It was only because of that, you told yourself, that he’d said anything at all.
The night before had been a rough one; you and Poe had spent the night going through battle procedures and ship renovation plans to try and preserve the fleet. Your discussions ran into the early hours of the morning and the next day, he had an early meeting with the General, one you knew he wouldn’t make if you didn’t wake him up. And so, there you stood, at Poe’s door, with a freshly brewed coffee in hand; to make the whole process easier, of course. When he opened the door, he looked like death, and you couldn’t help but smile. He didn’t say anything, just send you an appreciative glance, took the coffee and retreated back into his room like some caffeine-addicted Gollum. You followed him in, smiling as he sat on his bed, smelling the coffee.
“You brought me coffee.”
“I brought you coffee.”
He stared at you for a moment before nodding.
“You know what? We should get married - I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before, it’s the perfect solution.”
You raised your eyebrow, sitting down leisurely in the chair opposite him.
“I can understand why you want to marry me but I don’t see what I’m getting out of the whole deal.”
His eyes left his coffee for you for the second time that morning. This time, his gaze held absolutely no emotion, something he’d no doubt practised. After a moment, he pursed his lips and pointed at you.
“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t say that.”
“Oh really?” you asked as he drank some coffee, still nodding.
“Yeah, I’m gonna pretend you didn’t say that for the sanctity of our future marriage-”
“How generous of you.”
“And for the sake of our poor, unborn, future children.”
“We’re having kids now?” you asked, watching him finish off his coffee and throw the empty cup into the bin. He frowned at you.
“Of course, we are.” He jutted his hip out, resting his hand on it. “It would be a crime not to pass these genes on.”
You snorted a laugh, pushing on your knees to stand up. You looked at the clock on his wall and smirked.
“Hopefully they don’t inherit your punctuality.”
He followed your gaze, swearing under his breath. As he began to whip his shirt off, changing the clothes he’d slept in from the day before, you took your cue to leave. Before the door shut behind you, his voice made you chuckle.
“That’s why they have you, Darling.”
III:
The third time Poe said it, he hadn’t meant for you to hear it, really. He thought you were unconscious – that’s what the Chief Medical Officer had told him anyway.
“Y/N, please,” he said gently, holding your hand tightly between both of his. You couldn’t see him, but you could hear that he’d been crying; his voice was croaky and sore. “I really need you to pull through this. I really need this.”
You’d been on a mission when a First Order glider had followed you close to the base. Desperate to not give away the location of the resistance, you’d engaged in a one-on-one shooting match with the other ship. Whilst they didn’t make the surface, you certainly did.  Your ship has sustained a lot of damage and you’d crashed to the ground, only narrowly missing the Falcon. Poe had pulled you from the wreckage and all but dragged you to the infirmary.
And that’s where he’d stayed. For three days.
“You always say I’m the reckless one and then you go on this one recon mission and here you are and-“ he clenched his jaw. “Sweetheart, I just need you to wake up.”
He had dark stubble on his cheeks and heavy bags under his eyes and he knew if you could see him, you’d chew him out. But you weren’t there and that was entirely the problem.
“Can you just wake up to spite me, please?”
He lifted your hand to his lips, his other hand running over the stitches on your forehead. He hated to see the scrapes on your skin, hated that he couldn’t protect you. The General had been by a few times trying to convince Poe to get some rest, but he never would. His lack of sleep was getting to him, though.
Somewhere around the seventieth hour he spent sat next to you, he fell asleep on your bed, arms crossed and head resting on them.  He needed the sleep so badly he almost didn’t feel your hand in his unruly hair. He thought he’d imagined it at first and when he lifted his face, he thought he dreamt your open eyes and small smile. He couldn’t even speak as you pulled at one of his curls. He just watched with wide eyes as the corner of your mouth twitched and your hand dragged down his face to cup his jaw.
“Someone’s prickly.”
Tears filled Poe’s eyes as he licked at his lip, top lip folding down. His hand circled your wrist, rubbing up and down with his thumb. He nodded, tilting his head to the side.
“Well,” his voice was gravelly. “It’s a new look I’m trying.”
IV:
The fourth time, you were almost sure Poe had meant it.
“How many galaxies do you think there are out there?” he asked, staring up at the sky as you lay shoulder to shoulder.
“At least twelve.”
He nodded, enjoying the mock seriousness of your teasing.
“You think?”
“Oh yeah, I bet.”
“I bet you can’t name them.”
“I also bet I can’t name them.”
Poe snorted, nodding.
You were both lying on the damp grass of D’Qar with your shoulders touching and the back of your hands pressed together. His other hand was tucked underneath his head.
“I’m gonna go to all of them.” Poe said, seriously.
“All twelve?”
“All twelve.” He hummed. “I wanna see all of it; everything the universe has to offer.”
“You’re not gonna get lonely?”
“Who says I’ll be exploring the universe by myself?”
“Anyone that’s ever spent any time with you.”
He turned to face you then, resting the side of his head on the palm of his hand. You copied him, feeling the grass press against your cheek. Your noses were centimetres apart.
“I’m hurt.”
“Aw, did that hurt your feelings?”
“I’m deeply, deeply hurt. Everyone loves spending time with me. You’re just jealous.”
“Only because you’re so modest.” He exhaled out of his nose and turned back to look at the sky. You trailed your eyes down his side-profile, biting your lip before looking at the stars again. “I’m sure Finn would go with you – you’re basically married anyway.”
He hummed again before making a noise of protest.
“Not Finn.”
“BB-8 is a given.”
“And you, I hope?”
You frowned, turning to look at him again. He must’ve felt his eyes on you, but he just carried on looking at the empty expanse of sky above.
“You want me to explore all twelve galaxies with you?”
“I know you think there are twelve, and you think you’re always right, but I’m not so sure.”
You didn’t ignore that he avoided the question. You dropped it anyway, though, and brought your attention back to the stars.
“What? You think there’s thirteen?”
He hummed again and you felt his little finger touch yours softly.
“I don’t pretend to know the secrets of the universe.”
You lifted your little finger and he looped his around it. And so, technically, you were holding hands.
“You didn’t guess because you knew you’d be wrong.”
“I’ve never been wrong in my life.”
“What about when you bet you could eat more pudding than Chewie?”
“That-“
“I recall you spent three months emptying the squadron toilets for that.”
He pursed his lips, shifting his jaw from side to side.
“What?  The great Poe Dameron has nothing to say?”
“No.” he said stubbornly. “I just know how much you like to be right; I’m doing you a favour.”
“Oh really?”
“Yes, really.”
“You’re insufferable.”
“And you’re obnoxious.”
And whilst you argued until the sun rose, your little fingers still clung to each other.
V:
When Poe actually said it, neither of you had expected it.
“Why did you do that?” Poe yelled as you lifted the cover of your x-wing. You groaned, standing up as technicians swarmed the ship, putting out the fires and getting ready to fix it.
“Poe-“
“No! I’m the one talking right now.”
You sighed, jumping down from the cockpit, brushing your hands on your knees.
“Did you think at all before you did that?” he pinched the bridge of his nose with a hand on his hip. “Because it doesn’t look like you considered it at all! You just flew in there and what? Started shooting?”
“Oh, come on-“
“I’m not finished-“
“I don’t care; you’re being unfair.”
“What? That’s not the point!”
“The point is that you do reckless shit all the time and suddenly if I do something necessary-“
“Necessary? You could’ve been killed.”
“And that’s the risk we take, Poe, you know that. All of the crew-“
“You’re not like the others!”
“I fucking knew it!” you erupted, poking at his chest. “I knew you treated me differently to the others: less hours, less dangerous missions. What are you playing at, Poe? Am I not good enough to be part of your squadron? Why won’t you treat me like-“
“Because I’m not in love with the others!”
You shut your mouth quickly, your retort locked in your throat. You leant back, blinking at Poe who seemed just as shocked as you were.
“I love you.” He said, much softer. He swallowed, as if realising what he’d said. He clenched his jaw, hands on his hips as he bent his head downwards. Then, he turned away from you. “I love you, Y/N, I just need you to be safe because I couldn’t- I couldn’t cope if you weren’t.”
The silence between you was louder than anything else in that moment. Poe, with tears in his eyes, nodded, accepting rejection.
“That’s alright.”
He turned around and began to walk away before you caught his arm with your hand. He spun him round to face you.
“Always with the dramatics, Dameron.”
And then you were kissing him. And he couldn’t think of anything but the fact that you were kissing him. And it was everything he never knew he wanted, saying everything he never knew he meant.
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jjmaybanksblog · 4 years
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Death Bed (Coffee for Your Head)- Rafe Cameron
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(Not my gif, credit to the owner!)
Summary: Based on Death Bed (Coffee for Your Head) by Powfu and Beabadoobe
Word count: 3,181
Warnings: (Lung) Cancer, hospitalization, cursing, sadness, mentions of death, death.
I sobbed writing this I'm not gonna lie
Don't stay awake for too long, don't go to bed. I'll make a cup of coffee for your head, I'll get you up and going out of bed.
Rafe Cameron sat there in the doctor's office, his eyes glazed over and his jaw slacked as the doctor stared at him with a pitied look. Six words repeated in his mind, 'you have stage four lung cancer'. He was only 22, how did this happen so soon? 
He rubbed his hands over his face vigorously, cracking his knuckles after he stopped. "How long do I have?" "Some people don't survive more than 12 months, and if you're lucky, the latest I've seen is 5 years but that's with every single treatment."  He flared his nostrils as he held back his tears, he wanted to be around one person and one person only; you. 
Rafe showed up at your door after his appointment, a bouquet of rose's in his hand and a card in the other. You grinned at his kind gesture, your heart swelling with joy. He thought he would have to plaster a smile on his face, but the moment he saw you, a genuine smile appeared on his face. For the slightest moment, he forgot that he was dying.
You two spent the night together, cuddling and watching movies. Rafe held you close to him, his fingers skimming every part of your body, wanting to relish the feeling of you under his fingers. He checked the time and realized it was 3 in the morning and he was still awake. 
You shifted in your spot before turning your body to face his, your hand reaching up and combing his blonde locks out of his face. "Don't stay awake for too long baby, you need rest." You mumbled, half asleep. "I know, I know. I just have a bad headache." He lied. Truth is, he wanted to stay awake and just admire how you looked next to him, curled up in his chest, allowing him to see your natural beauty.
"I'll make you a cup of coffee in the morning and I have plenty of ibuprofen to share." You grinned, pressing a delicate kiss to his neck. "Goodnight, my love." He whispered as he kissed your forehead in return, watching you fall back into your sleep.
I don't wanna fall asleep, I don't wanna pass away. I've been thinking of our future 'cause I'll never see those days.
Rafe rubbed his eyes with his hands as he yawned, today was his third day without sleeping. He told you that he just kept waking up in the middle of the night but eventually he did go back to sleep. You believed him, offering any help to find resolutions but he politely denied them.
Truth was, everytime he fell asleep he had dreams about your future with him. The most recent one he had was of you two, married with two children. You two had moved out of the Outer Banks, wanting a new start. In this dream, he survived the cancer so he wanted a fresh start. Away from the toxic memories he had from that town.
It pained him every time he had a thought about your future, at least what he wanted your future with him to be. He wanted to make you so happy, he wanted to be the reason you woke up every morning and vice versa. You were his everything, and it killed him to know that soon it would come to an end.
I don't know why this has happened but I probably deserve it. I tried to do my best but you know that I'm not perfect.
You sat down on the couch, legs criss crossed as Rafe paced back and forth in front of you. He was mumbling to himself as you sat there confused, trying to calm down the nerves you knew he had. You didn't know what was going on which only worried you.
"Rafe, baby just sit next to me and talk to me." He sat down next to you, his elbows resting on his knees, terrified to look you in the eyes. You scooted closer to him and grabbed one of his hands, "breathe." Was all you said before he closed his eyes, deeply inhaling and exhaling for a few seconds before turning and looking at you.
You could finally see how scared he was, he looked like he hadn't slept, his eyes were pink and watery, the bags under his eyes were a light purple. You turned your body to face him, "Rafe, what's wrong?" He turned to you, mirroring the way you were sitting. "I have stage four lung cancer." 
His words felt like you fell face first in cement from a fifty foot drop. "W-what?" You stuttered, your voice just above a whisper. He nodded his head as he watched your eyes release tears. Your mouth fell open but you quickly covered it with your hand. You tried to speak but the only sound you could make was a gasping sound, like a fish out of water.
"I have maybe 12 months to live." Your mouth was dry, your heart felt like it was somehow racing and stopping at the same time. Your world felt like it fell out of space and shattered. You wanted to know how long he knew, but it didn't matter. Moral of the story was that you wanted him to live a good life for as long as he lived, and that's what you were gonna do. 
You didn't say anything, you simply crawled to him and straddled his lap. Your arms wrapped around his neck and he held your waist, allowing you two to cry into each other’s necks. He held you like if he were to let go, you would disappear forever.
“I got you Rafe, I got you." Your hand reached up and entangled itself in his hair, gently massaging it. "Why did this have to happen? Right when I was finally feeling happy." He screamed into your neck. 
"I don't hunny. I don't know." You whispered.
I've been praying for forgiveness, you've been praying for my health. When I leave this Earth, hoping you'll find someone else.
Rafe turned his head to look at you, making sure you were fast asleep before he slowly got out of bed. Replacing his body with a pillow, he snuck out of the room and outside of your house.
He made his way to the backyard and sat down on the grass, laying back as he looked up at the stars. He took a deep breath before speaking out loud. "Hi, uh- God. I don't know how this works, I don't know how to pray or even if you're up there, but if you are I need you to hear what I have to say."
A star above him shined brighter for a split second before disappearing behind a cloud. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for the disrespectful and disgusting teenager I was. I'm sorry for all the horrible things I did to my body. I'm sorry for the crimes I committed and never got caught. I admit to everything I have done wrong, I understand why you're taking it out on me. But please, leave Y/N out of this. She is the light of my life, the reason I was able to find happiness. Please don't take my actions out on her, make her fall out of love with me or something. Just...just something to ease her pain. Please."
Rafe was out at the grocery store, leaving you plenty of time to head over to the neighborhood church. You walked out of your car with sunglasses on so people couldn't see your red and watery eyes. You excused yourself as you shimmied through a small group of people.
You walked into the chapel and sat down in one of the pews. You removed your sunglasses before looking up at the front of the room. You let out a puff of air before speaking out loud. "Hi, God. I really don't know what I'm doing or why I'm even trying to talk to you. But I just, I'm so desperate and I just need your help. Please, please help Rafe. Help him at least live longer than a year, he wasn't the best person when he was a teenager, you know that. But he's changed into a whole new person, he knows how he was before and he hates it now. Please help him recover through this, help him pull through because I need him here. He was the one I was supposed to marry, the one who would be the father of my children, the one to help give me my happy ending. Please."
When I leave this Earth hoping you'll find someone else, 'cause yeah, we're still young there's so much we haven't done.
You shook your head at Rafe's words as you wiped your tears away with your hands. "No, there's no way." You cried out. He grabbed both your wrists and made you look at him. "Y/N, you have to listen to me. I don't want you to grieve or mourn, I want you to keep going. Find a new love, I don't want you to be alone. You need to find a new love, start a new story with them. Please baby, I beg you." 
You squeezed your eyes closed, your throat felt like it was slowly shutting. Your heart felt like it had been stabbed after hearing his words. You knew he had a point, you knew you couldn't mourn over him the rest of your life, but just hearing it so soon pained you more than you could ever imagine. 
Getting married, start a family, watch your husband with his son. I wish it could be me but I won't make it off this bed.
Another night where Rafe couldn't sleep, this being his 6th one in a row. He looked at you while you slept and admired the way the moonlight entered the window. The way the light cascaded down your face, highlighting some of your facial features. 
He slept maybe an hour, however he had a dream that woke him up. He dreamed that you got married to another man, watching as he took care of your son. He felt his heart pang with pain knowing that would be the harsh reality they would soon have to face. 
It felt like his body was there, he knew he was there, but it felt like his soul was floating out of him as he watched you be happy with a random stranger. He watched as you scooped your son up in your arms, spinning around as he let out cheerful giggles.
Rafe watched your husband who looked just as happy as you did. He hated that you were happy with someone else, but he knew you would be in good hands with your husband. He just had to pray that you'll meet someone who loves you just as much as he did.
I hope I go to heaven so I see you once again. My life was kinda short but I got so many blessings. Happy you were mine, it sucks that it's all ending.
Rafe had spent the next few months trying to make up for some of the shitty things he did in his teen years. He's been donating to the pour, volunteering at local shelters and soup kitchens, randomly picking garbage up from the highway. He was trying to do anything and everything to make sure he could go to heaven.
He had no clue if heaven or hell were real, but if they do exist he would do anything he could to make sure he got into heaven. After he dies, he knew that was his one chance to see you again. He knew one day he would wake up on the other side and you would be there, running to him to give him the hug both of you had been desperately craving.
I'm happy that you're here with me, I'm sorry if I tear up. When me and you were younger, you would always make me cheer up.
You softly knocked on the hospital room door, walking through the doorway with a tray of cafeteria food. "Hey baby, I brought you a sandwich and blue jello." He smiled at you, "my favorite." He subtly laughed before coughing harshly. You rushed over to his side and placed the tray down, grabbing one of the napkins to wipe away the small drops of blood that escaped his mouth.
"I got you baby, it's okay." You mumbled, passing him a glass of water as his coughing died down. You sat down in the seat next to him, watching him poke his sandwich before taking a small bite out of it. He sighed before dropping the sandwich back onto the plate, his eyes already crying. He sniffled as he covered his face with his hands, ashamed to be in the spot he was in right now.
You reached forward and grabbed onto his hand, rubbing his knuckles with your thumb as he tightened his grip. "I'm so sorry." He whispered. You shook your head trying to fight back your tears. "Don't apologize baby, I'm right here." "And I'm so fucking happy you are." 
You held his hand, looking down at his fingers as you played with them. "Remember back in 8th grade when I got into a really bad argument with my dad after he married Rose? I was so angry and upset, and I ran right to your house. But you were right there to help me, you cheered me up in a matter of seconds of me being with you. That was one of the first times I truly knew how happy you made me." He recalled the memory, thinking about it like it was yesterday.
Taking goofy videos while walking through the park. You would jump into my arms every time you heard a bark.
You pulled up your snapchat and pressed record. You and Rafe decided to go to the local park to just go on the playground equipment. There was nobody around, even if there was when you were with him you felt like you two were the only ones there.
You recorded the video as Rafe pushed you on the swing set, you turned the camera to face you, zooming in on the large smile on his face. You pumped your legs up, accidentally kicking him in the stomach. The video got the whole thing and his reaction. You jumped off the swing and turned around to see him hunched over and groaning. 
"Oh my god, I am so sorry!" You quickly apologized, trying to help him stand up straight. He laughed loudly, his bright smile never left his face. "That was so fucking funny!" You joined him in laughing, enjoying the moment. He held you closely by the waist as you held his elbows. "God, I am so in love with you." He muttered before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. 
"Okay shut up that was one time and it was a dare!" You defended yourself, jokingly pushing his shoulder. He brought up the story about how you ran down the block fully naked one night in senior year. Your laugh stopped the moment you heard a loud bark echoing in the distance. 
Your hand quickly reached down to grab his as your head turned in different directions to see where the sound came from. Rafe stopped walking and stood in front of you. "Hey, hey it's okay. It was just a dog." You nodded your head before letting out a shaky breath.
His free hand reached up and held the side of your face, "I got you Y/N. I won't let anything hurt you."
Cuddle in your sheets, sing me sound asleep. And sneak out through your kitchen at exactly 1:03. 
You hushed Rafe as he whispered to you. Rafe had been your boyfriend for the last 2 months, however you hadn't told your parents about him yet which meant sneaking around if you wanted to be with him. You figured out a way to sneak him into your house without your parents knowing.
He tiptoed into your room before flinging himself onto your bed. He wasted no time in wrapping himself in your sheets, his arms wide open waiting for you to join him. You laid down next to him, watching as he looked at you with puppy eyes and his bottom lip pouting. "Which song tonight?" He thought for a minute, "Fix You by Coldplay." 
You shifted in your spot so Rafe could rest his head on your chest, your hand reached yo to play with his hair. "When you try your best but you don't succeed…" you quietly sang to him. You continued until you heard his soft snores escape his lips. You shut your eyes and allowed yourself to fall asleep with him.
You were woken up by the feeling of his lips against yours, mumbling 'wake up' against them. "I'm awake." You muttered, rubbing your eyes. "I gotta head home."  You nodded before flinging the sheets off of your body. You held his hand in yours before quietly opening your bedroom door. You led him down the halls and to your garage door. 
He spun you around so you could face him, his hands finding your waist as you roped your arms around his neck. "See you tomorrow?" He questioned, "absolutely." You leaned forwards and kissed him softly, your lips hovering over his for a second. 
"Goodnight handsome."
Soon you'll be alone, sorry that you have to lose me.
It's been 12 months, Rafe was admitted into the hospital at the beginning of month 11. It happened when Rafe broke into a coughing spit that ended up with him spitting up splatters of blood. You weren't ready when that happened, you knew that that was the beginning of his end and that terrified you.
"Y/N?" He whispered, you sat up from your seat and stood next to him. "Yeah baby?" "Can you kiss me?" Your heart clenched at how soft his voice was. "It would be my honor." You grinned as he let out a weak laugh. Leaning down you cupped the side of his face and passionately kissed him. 
You pulled away from him, not even knowing about the tears that rolled down your face. "My eyelids feel heavy." He admitted, knowing this might be his last day. You held the side of his face, watching as his eyes slowly fell shut and his heart monitor slowed down. "No no, Rafe look at me. Keep your eyes open." You begged.
"I love you Y/F/N Y/L/N, forever and always." He whispered before his eyes fell shut. The room went silent except for the sound of the monitor flat lining, fear running through your veins. "Doctor!"
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twilights-800-cats · 3 years
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<< Allegiances || Chapter 23 || Chapter 24 || From the Beginning || Patreon >>
Chapter 24
Feathertail blinked in the sunshine, wincing at its strength. The air still smelled of rain from the night before, and it filled the area around Eagle Rock with the sharp smells of wet pine and grass. The water had blown its banks here, too, but not so severely as the pool by the waterfall – it still made a suitable place to bury the dead.
Boulder, Sheer, Claw, and Swift’s bodies had been buried beneath one of the pines, and marked with one of the stones that had fallen with Sharptooth. Crag and Talon’s paws were still caked with wet mud from the work, and they lay together, cleaning each other with rasping tongues.
Now it was Stormfur’s turn.
Feathertail felt numb as she watched Stoneheart and Crowpaw lower Stormfur’s body down into his grave – separate from the others, given a place of honor beneath one of the oldest trees in the mountains. Close to the water, but far enough away to protect it from rot, like a RiverClan warrior deserved. Nightpaw joined them as they scraped the turned earth over him, sealing him away.
He’s really gone, Feathertail thought.
She hadn’t slept the night before – hardly any cat had. They had been too busy assessing the damage, treating wounds and collecting the dead. Feathertail could remember Night’s wails of grief as she saw Boulder’s body lined up with the others. If she closed her eyes, she could see Hawk, Ice, and Swoop’s gazes of confusion, or see Bird cuddled close to Swift, mourning her littermate and babbling that it should’ve been her instead.
“Today, we honor the lost,” rasped Stoneteller as the last of the earth was packed down.
All eyes turned to the old Tribe cat as he limped his way forward. There was an air of reverence to the ceremony – Stonetellers did not leave the cave unless it was for something so important. Snow walked by his side, her bright white pelt still streaked with herb matter and blood. Behind them, Shadepaw and Sun carried between them a thick stick.
Stoneteller stopped before Stormfur’s grave. Snow sat beside him, while Shadepaw and Sun took a position such that Stormfur’s grave was underneath the stick they carried. Feathertail saw the claw marks on the stick, and remembered grating her own claws through the soft wood. It’s appreciation for what he did, she recalled, dimly.
“The Tribe of Endless Hunting receives Boulder, Claw, Sheer, and Swift – brave cave-guards and prey-hunters who gave their lives to save us all,” Stoneteller meowed on, lifting his chin. “And we will forever honor Stormfur – he was not of the Tribe, but he gave his life for us regardless. He was the storm of our salvation. His sacrifice spared us from Sharptooth, and we thank him.”
“We thank him,” chorused the Tribe cats.
We thank him, Feathertail thought.
Snow nodded to Shadepaw and Sun, and the two young cats gently sank the stick into the soft earth of Stormfur’s grave. It stuck out tall and proud, a marker that would show even in the deepest snow. The two stepped away and dipped their heads.
The Tribe cats approached then, offering stones and feathers to cover the turned earth. Feathertail swallowed, trying to fight her trembling limbs. She wanted to spring at them and scream that they had the wrong cat, that Stormfur was still alive, just hiding somewhere – but her body refused to obey.
A soft scent touched her nose, and she felt Brook brush against her. Feathertail swallowed, breathing in her gentle smell. She looked down at the Tribe she-cat and knew, instantly, that she had forgiven Brook for her betrayal. There was no room in her heart to be angry, not when she was so sad. Feathertail pressed her muzzle against Brook’s, feeling like her heart was about to burst.
“We cannot thank you enough for what you’ve done for us,” rasped Stoneteller. The old tom was looking at Mistyfoot, his eyes full of sorrow. “The Clans will always be welcome here.”
“Always,” echoed Snow.
“Thank you,” Mistyfoot murmured. Her blue eyes, soft with loss, rested on Stormfur’s grave. She bent her muzzle and picked up a small, round stone from between her paws. She rested it gently on Stormfur’s grave, rubbing her muzzle against it as if to leave her scent for him.
She raised her nose to the sky, as if she could see Stormfur there, somehow. “Good bye,” she said. “I’ll bring them home, Stormfur.”
Crowpaw stepped forward, a bundle of wool in his jaws. He rested it on the grave before murmuring, “I hope you’ll be comfortable in the stars.”
Stoneheart limped forward, and he laid down a chip from one of Sharptooth’s claws. “I’ll miss you,” he confessed. “I’ve never had such a good partner in battle.”
Dock was Nightpaw’s gift, and he tucked it beneath Mistyfoot’s stone. “We were in danger all the time,” he meowed, sniffling. His pale blue eyes were wavering with sorrow. “But you never failed to make me laugh.”
Shadepaw tucked the sprig of an old willow into the dirt. “May it remind you of home,” she prayed, pressing a paw against her gift. “And thank you, for all that you taught me. May you have swift running, good hunting, and shelter when you sleep.”
Feathertail blinked as all their eyes turned to her. She swallowed and got to her paws, taking her gift in her jaws. Brook brushed against her as she padded up to Stormfur’s grave, bending her neck to rest the feather lightly against the dirt.
“I’m thankful they buried you by the water, brother. I think you’ll like it here,” Feathertail told him. She took a deep breath, hoping to catch one last bit of Stormfur’s scent – all she found was dirt and dampness. “I’ll miss you.”
Feathertail lifted her head, swallowing again. Now it seemed for sure that Stormfur was well and truly gone, never to return. She looked up at the sky, soft and blue, searching the clouds like Mistyfoot had. She thought one was looking down at her with a sparkle in what looked like an eye. Was that Stormfur?
Were they back in RiverClan territory, she and all of RiverClan would have lifted their muzzles to sing Stormfur’s spirit to StarClan – but it wasn’t something cats of the other Clans were familiar with, and Feathertail couldn’t help but wonder if it would work here, under the Tribe cat’s skies.
I’ll sing for you when we return home, she thought. For now, she hoped that the Tribe’s traditions would allow Stormfur’s spirit to reach the stars. He had died for their sakes – it only seemed right to respect their ways.
Too soon it was clear that it was time for them to go. Talon and Crag stepped forward, offering to show them the way. Feathertail glanced at Brook, wondering if the small she-cat would join them, only to meet her eyes and see pain there.
“I’ll miss hunting beside you,” Brook meowed. “I hope I can see you again one day.”
Feathertail leaned forward and brushed her muzzle against Brook’s, breathing in her soft scent. Maybe if she held it in her mind, she’d never forget the days spent patrolling among the stones with the pretty tabby, and how Feathertail had unburdened herself in the cold, clear mountain air.
“I’ll miss you, too,” Feathertail whispered. “More than anything.”
———————————————————-
Days passed as they walked, Mistyfoot leading the way down the mountain and into the soft grasses that stretched between them and their way home. They dodged Thunderpaths and Twolegs and dogs with ease, their stride purposeful though their hearts were heavy.
Feathertail’s paws felt strange now on the earth, and, when she turned one over to examine it for a thorn, she found that her pads had hardened over such that the barb hadn’t even pierced them. Even her pelt felt too warm, now, despite leaf-fall having taken a firm hold on the lands below, turning the leaves golden and red. The chill in the air was nothing compared to frozen-water in the mountains.
There was little said, but in reality, there was little that needed to be said. Each cat seemed to be mourning in their own, private way – but their purpose was firmly ahead of them now, and they had nothing to keep them from their goal.
Soon enough, as they trotted together up a steep hill, Feathertail found herself ahead of the others. Her muscles were accustomed to the slope thanks to hunting so often with the Tribe. She reached the top first, and she took a deep breath.
The smell of Thunderpath was overwhelming, and stretched out before her she could see a familiar tangle of the gray stone rivers ahead. There were more fenced-off squares of farmland between them, the tall plants inside a hundred shades of gold. Corn, Crowpaw had called it, what seemed like a lifetime ago. Beyond that…
Feathertail saw the small peaks beyond the Thunderpaths and sighed. Their long journey was finally coming to an end. She had to resist the urge to turn her head and cry out in delight at Stormfur – he would never walk by her side again, not in life.  
“Hightstones!” cried Nightpaw.
The small black tom had hauled himself up to the top of the hill, his tail up and eyes bright. He looked back at the others as they, too, reached the top. “It’s Highstones! We’re almost home!”
As the others gasped, purring at the thought of finally being in the forest again, Feathertail found herself recalling this sight from the top of the mountain, with Brook by her side. How it had all seemed so small from up there. She looked over her shoulder, wondering if she could spot the exact cliff she was thinking of. The mountains were pale in the distance, however, and too far away.
Her heart clenched, and she looked ahead. While the others were chattering excitedly, Feathertail found herself struggling to move forward. Beyond Highstones was a Clan full of cats that didn’t love her, cats she had been told by her ancestors to save regardless. Beyond Highstones was a RiverClan without Stormfur.
Behind her, though…
Feathertail looked back again. Stormfur is in the mountains, now, she thought. Was his spirit even among StarClan? In the mountains… She thought again of Brook, recalled her sweet, gentle scent.  
In the mountains is my heart.
“Feathertail, are you all right?”
Feathertail blinked, turning her muzzle back around. Shadepaw was waiting for her on the hill, but Mistyfoot was already leading the others down the slope and towards the first Thunderpath. Feathertail swallowed.
“I’m fine,” she said. “Let’s go.”
As she picked her way down the hill, Feathertail turned inward again. Mistyfoot is going to lead the Clans home, and I’m going to help her. But after that…
After that, I’ll go back for all that I left behind, and I’ll find a way to live without you, brother.
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arotechno · 4 years
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The Heartless: Chapter 4
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Chapter IV: in which ignorance is bliss
The next day found us in the next town over, a small farming village full of stout cottages and open pastures. Petra briefly suggested we snag a few vegetables from whichever farmer’s harvest looked the most plentiful, an idea I promptly shot down with a reminder that we don’t steal. She was not deterred, however, and I caught her more than once snatching a handful of berries or an almost-ripe cucumber out of some poor family’s garden.
On one such occasion, I caught her literally red-handed plucking raspberries off of a row of scraggly bushes behind a small cottage overgrown with vines snaking up the walls around a weather-worn wooden back door.
“Petra, how many times do I have to tell you to stop?” I scolded. “Every time I turn around you’re at it again. I thought we agreed before we left home that we weren’t here to steal.”
Petra stood up from her squatting position between the rows of bushes, dropping a handful of berries into her bag. “How many times do I have to tell you that I have done this a hundred times and have never been caught?” she retorted.
“You have been caught, Petra. Need I remind you yet again that I saved your life?”
“You and I both know that had very little to do with the food.” Petra stared at me incredulously, challenging me to argue further.
I took the bait. “Okay, fine, but that doesn’t change the fact that this food belongs to someone else.”
“Does it, Ace? Look around you!” Petra gestured broadly around us, at the overgrown house and untended garden rows full of weeds that came up past our ankles. To our right stood a run-down stable that looked like it hadn’t seen use in a very long time. I was beginning to consider the possibility that Petra was actually right when the back door clattered and a woman’s voice rang out over the garden.
“Do I know you two kids?” the voice asked, its owner scurrying through the garden towards us, holding a baby of no more than several months at her hip.
Serves me right, I thought, frozen in place at the woman’s approach like a deer at the sound of an arrow being unsheathed. Petra quickly hid her hands behind her back and kicked me lightly in the shin as if to say, be normal in front of this woman or I will leave you here and never come back.
“Sorry, ma’am,” I apologized when the woman stopped several feet from us, her free hand placed on her other hip. “My… sister doesn’t have any manners.”
At that, Petra kicked me again, this time not so lightly, though the motion was obscured from the woman’s view by the row of untrimmed bushes between us. I stifled a wince at the pain and shook my ankle discreetly, ignoring the odd look the woman gave me and every instinct in my bones telling me to run.
“Sorry, ma’am,” Petra echoed softly, sheepishly presenting her overflowing hands to the woman, and I bristled internally at how polite her tone was when she had kicked me moments before.
“Keep them,” the woman urged, to Petra’s quiet surprise. Then she examined our ratty clothing and, turning to me, she asked, “Are you both orphans?”
More or less, I thought. “Yes, ma’am,” I said aloud. “We’re on the road.”
The woman seemed to mull it over for a minute, rolling the idea around on her tongue for a while before she proposed, “Why don’t you help me clean up this place a bit? I’ve been so busy with the baby, lately, and there’s no one else here to help me. I can’t pay you, but I can give you some food and a place to sleep. I don’t have any spare beds, but I do have the stable. It’s been empty for quite some time, but there’s still plenty of hay to sleep on, and I may have some extra blankets.”
I had an excuse that I had been preparing the entire time she was speaking ready on the tip of my tongue when Petra broke in with a resounding, “We’d be honored, ma’am, thank you so much!” that gave me no room to protest.
“Wonderful! Let me put the baby down to sleep and then I’ll show you where the tools are.” The woman shifted the baby’s position on her hip and turned to go back inside. She called back over her shoulder, “My name is Esther, by the way!”
“I’m Petra, and my brother here is Ace!” Petra called in reply. Esther smiled wide and entered the house. When the door shut behind her, Petra turned on her heels and fixed me with her most exasperated expression.
“Why did you say yes? We could be caught!” I hissed before she had a chance to open her mouth.
“Caught doing what?” Petra shot back. “She already caught me stealing and is still choosing to be kind to us!”
I lowered my voice. “What if she figures out what we are?”
Petra narrowed her eyes at me. “How is that you’re the one who has lived on the outside and yet you’re more worried than me?”
“Because you need to learn that the more you press your luck, the closer you get to someone finding out the truth, and that never ends well.”
“You need to learn that not everyone is out to get you all the time. It’s not like you’re walking around with a big sign over your head that says, ‘Hey, look, I don’t have a pulse!’ If anything, acting like a paranoid weirdo all the time is what’s going to put a target on your back!”
I was going to argue further, but Esther returned then, carrying several baskets not unlike those we’d seen at the market the day before. She set them down amongst the raspberry bushes and gestured to a battered wooden bin by the back door.
“There should be some garden tools that my husband left behind over there,” she explained. “But let’s say we start by picking these berries before the animals get to them, and then next week one of the neighbors can take them to the market. That sound good? You can eat as many as you’d like—Well, not too many. I’m going to make some beans for supper.”
That seemed like an amicable enough arrangement, so I agreed, and Petra and I set to work while Esther went back inside to check on her sleeping child. We spent the rest of the afternoon filling basket after basket with the garden’s best raspberries, and taking breaks to lie back in the sun-baked dirt whenever Esther would come outside with something for us to drink or another story she wanted to tell.
When the blazing sun had just begun to dip below the horizon, Esther poked her head out the back door and called, “Supper is almost ready. Would you kids like to come inside to wash up?”
The prospect of “inside” felt daunting to me. Crossing the threshold into this strange woman’s home felt like overstepping some unspoken boundary, one that existed only in my own head to separate the relative safety of emotional distance from the dangers of familiarity. Out in the garden or in the forgotten stable, I could be merely a passing stranger. Entering the house, even if only for a few moments, felt like encroaching on something intimate and personal. Nevertheless, I trailed behind Petra into the tiny cottage, leaving my anxious thoughts in my wake.
The back door led into Esther’s small but lively kitchen. The windowsill was lined with tiny potted herbs, and in the corner stood a faded wooden table surrounded by three chairs to match. At its center sat a vase of striped carnations that made the whole house smell vaguely sweet. The walls were adorned with old portraits and photos of children and happy families, many with Esther and a man I assumed to be her husband. Esther stirred an old pot on the stove, the wood crackling softly as it slowly burned itself out. The baby could be heard cooing somewhere in a different room.
We ate our beans by the light of a small lantern out behind the house where it was cooler, out of small wooden bowls with delicate silver spoons that had clearly seen years of use but still managed to shine in the last fading sliver of sunlight.
Esther was a lot like that herself. She was a kind woman, soft around the edges, but she carried herself with the self-assured air of a person who knew she only had herself to count on. As the moon rose above the trees to replace the blistering sun, she told us about her life, as the baby slept in her arms. I learned that Esther’s husband had vanished on her about a year ago, leaving her to tend to their small farm by herself. She had been pregnant at the time and unable to work, and as time went by she was forced to sell what few animals they had and most of their equipment, leaving behind only what we saw before us. Since then, the farm had fallen into disrepair, and while it seemed clear to me that Esther’s neighbors were supporting her, I knew all too well the feeling that it simply was not enough.
“It gets a little lonely sometimes, with just me and the baby here,” Esther confessed. Then she smiled. “You two are welcome to stay here as long as you’d like. I welcome the help, and the company.”
I glanced down at my side, where Petra had already dozed off in the grass, before looking back at Esther and saying, “Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course.”
I swallowed hard and averted my gaze out over the rows of raspberry bushes, the question laying heavy on my tongue. “What do you think it means to be alive?”
Esther hummed. “I think that would be different for every person. But to me, the point is to be happy, and to be a good person. Nothing more.”
I nodded. For the briefest of moments, I thought about telling Esther the truth. But the fear of being rejected, or worse, quickly swallowed that idea whole, and just as quickly as the thought had arrived, it was as if it had never existed.
The baby blinked back into wakefulness and stuck out a chubby arm towards me. Unthinking, I reached forward, and the baby pressed its tiny hand against my palm. The contact elicited a soft inhale, but I was left breathless. Esther merely chuckled. This baby, this precious child, knew nothing of curses or of what unexplained evils my calloused palms might hold. To them, we were one in the same, two pieces of the same star, floating under the same sky. I could never be sure if it were true, but that night, I had never been more certain of it.
 After supper that night, Basil and I sat in the tall grass behind his house, waiting for the fireflies to emerge as night fell over the village and the woods just beyond the yard. The summer heat was fading slowly into the gentle warmth of night, but I could not sit still.
“Stop fidgeting or the fireflies will get scared away,” Basil urged in a whisper.
I hesitated, twiddling my thumbs in my lap. “Basil, do you think that story Marcus was telling us is true?”
My best friend tensed momentarily. “About the curse? Why do you ask?” His voice was uncharacteristically flat, as though he were trying to keep it from wavering.
I shrugged in response.
"Well, I mean, I don’t think it matters if it’s true.”
“Maybe.” I paused. “M-Maybe we can go ask your parents if they’ve heard of it before.” I pushed up from the ground to walk back to the house.
“Don’t!” Basil’s hand quickly reached out and grabbed my wrist, sending me falling back to the ground. The fireflies rose from the grass and scattered.
Horrified at the contact, I tried to pull my arm away, but Basil had a vice grip on it. “W-Why not?” I yelped.
“Because if you tell them about it, they might send me away!” he blurted. We stared at each other in shock; Basil didn’t move, but a certain desperation had suddenly filled his eyes. A single brave firefly landed on the hand around my wrist, glowing against his skin, but still he did not move. As realization replaced desperation Basil slowly released his grip at last and quickly averted his eyes toward the dirt. (I wondered if he had noticed I had no pulse.) After a moment’s hesitation I reached a cautious, shaky hand out toward him, but he flinched and pulled away. Instead, I grabbed his hand and pressed his palm against my chest, ignoring the ingrained urge to flee that began to buzz beneath my skin. Basil tugged for a moment, until I felt his hand go still and saw the panic in his eyes settle into calm confusion; when I let go, he brought his hand to his face and stared at it in disbelief. Basil’s expression evolved quickly from shock to awe to relief, and when he tackled me to the ground in a hug, I released a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding, and I cried at the feeling of being understood for the very first time.
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vampiregirl1797 · 4 years
Text
Time Travel & Epic Loves Chapter Five (Final)
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Gif Not Mine
Series Masterlist
My Masterlist
Warnings: I can't think of any for this one, let me know if I need to add some.
Word Count: 3,502
Previously: The sight we walked in on made my blood boil, while my heart felt like it had been ripped out and stomped on. Klaus had Tatia pinned to a tree and he was grinning down at her. The doppelganger saw me over his shoulder and smirked, pushing herself closer to Nik. My teeth clenched together in anger but I could feel the stinging in my eyes, and I knew I needed to get out of there. I couldn’t focus on what they were saying, I couldn’t hear Nik when he turned and saw me standing there with his sister. Instead I turned away and ran. I forced myself to move at human speed until I was out of sight and then I flashed away, mindful not to enter the werewolf territory. I reached an empty field and sat down underneath an old willow tree, and finally allowed my tears to fall, unreserved.
 I was so confused. I was mad. I was heartbroken. I felt betrayed.
 Before I let myself think, I waited for myself to get all cried out. That took longer than I am willing to admit, but once I was done I lay back on the grass, staring at the stars twinkling in the night sky. A flash of Nik hovering over me underneath the stars before he entered me flashed through my mind. I forced it away. After a deep breath, I thought about what had happened. Honestly, as soon as I’d seen him with that tramp, I couldn’t really remember what had happened. It was like the world had frozen. All I could see was her pinned to a tree and all I could hear was his laughter playing on a continuous loop. But when I forced myself to focus I remembered that his amusement hadn’t been light-hearted, it was dark and threatening. His expression hadn’t been happy and lustful, it had been angry. When he had seen me, he hadn’t looked guilty, he looked worried and confused. Tatia had looked smug, but before she had seen me she had looked almost terrified.
 I sighed in annoyance, what had I done?
 Tatia had manipulated me and I had let my insecurities get the best of me. I had seen them together and assumed the worst. A part of me continued to believe that Nik couldn’t possibly love me over Tatia, at least not now.  But I had to remember that my Nik, from the future, remembered me from this time. He had known me and it was his memory of me from when he was human that led to him to pursue me. I needed to talk to him. I stood up, brushed the dirt and grass off my clothes and flashed back to the woods, coming to a stop before walking into the village at a human pace. It was quiet and I realised then that it must have been later than thought. In a slight panic I headed in the direction of the Mikaelson hut, relieved that I could still hear Ester and Bekah preparing dinner. Henrik, Finn and Kol were in there too, though it just sounded like that meant the rest of the men weren’t back from hunting yet.
 I went back to mine and Katy’s hut and found it empty, which was odd and a little concerning. I hadn’t seen her in almost a day now. I focused my hearing and was relieved to hear her speaking in the Mikaelson hut. I assumed Bekah had invited her over seeing as she had been unable to come on our walk earlier. Seeing as I didn’t feel like talking, and I wanted to catch Nik before he went inside for dinner, I hung back in the trees, waiting and listening. I was beginning to think he would never show when I heard the sound of Mikael berating Nik.
 ‘I am tired of telling you, Niklaus. You need to get better at hunting if you ever hope to provide for your own family. Your mother and I will not feed you for your entire adult life, boy,’ Mikael spat and I rolled my eyes in irritation.
 I hid behind a tree as they passed by and grabbed Nik’s arm. To stop him from making a sound, my hand covered his mouth and I held my index finger up to my lips to indicate that he needed to be quiet. The surprise in his eyes quickly ebbed away into relief and we shared a smile before I started to lead him to the very place I had run from earlier. When we arrived at the water, I turned to look at him with an apologetic expression on my face.
 ‘I’m sorry for running away earlier.’ I couldn’t look him in the eyes, ‘I guess there’s still a part of me that is worried you still like her and when I saw you together my mind assumed what was happening rather than taking in what was actually happening.’
 He took both of my hands in his and I looked up to him in surprise.
 ‘It’s I who should be sorry. I haven’t told you of my feelings and it has led to you believing I am torn between two women and that is not the case.’ His eyes were so sincere and regretful, ‘you captivated me as soon as you arrived and it confused me. I tried to force myself to remain loyal to Tatia, but it was to no avail. Our first night together, being with you, felt so natural and electric in a way I have never experienced before. After that, I felt guilty and was fighting with weather or not I should tell Tatia, seeing as we weren’t technically together. But then my father punished me and you were the one who cared for me and put a stop to it. No one has ever been there for me like that before, not even Elijah.’
 He pressed a kiss to my forehead when he saw the pain on my face at the reminder of Mikael’s torture.
 ‘That led me to realise that not only was I physically attracted to you, I also cared for you. But still I wasn’t sure if my feelings for you outweighed my feelings for her, which was why I asked you to the feast yesterday. As soon as I saw you, my heart beat so furiously in my chest after being away from you for three days that I knew then. I’ve never had such a reaction when seeing Tatia. You make me happy without even trying. You make me feel complete and you fit in my life as if you were made to be there, Arianna. I love you.’ He admitted softly, tears forming in his eyes; similar to those that were falling down my own cheeks.
 ‘I love you too, Niklaus.’ I told him.
 His smile was brighter than the sun as he leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine in a tender kiss that made my heart expand with love and happiness.
 ‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.’ He said when he pulled away, ‘when you came across us earlier, I was telling Tatia that anything that may have existed between us was over and that I no longer wanted to court her. She was furious and told me that she would make sure you and I were never happy together. She threatened you and I didn’t think before I pinned her to that tree. When you ran a part of me was worried you were afraid that I would hurt you.’
 ‘Nik, I know you’d never hurt me.’ I kissed his cheek in assurance, ‘Tatia knew what she was doing. She’s probably feeling threatened herself because neither you or Elijah are interested in her now.’
 ‘Most likely.’ Nik smirked at the possessiveness in my voice. His eyes were lustful and I saw him glance down to my lips.
 ‘How long before you have to return?’ I asked him, biting my bottom lip in anticipation.
 ‘I’m sure Elijah will cover,’ he didn’t seem to really be paying attention to me, as we both moved towards each other as if drawn by a magnetic force.
 My lips moved against his with passion, possession and want. I bit his bottom lip gently, silently telling him to deepen the kiss, which he did with a growl that made my knees go weak. When he lowered me to the grass we shared a soft smile before he pushed into me, moving in a rhythm that was very different from when we first slept together in this century. The first time was full of lust, need and the desire to be wanted. This time was about cementing how we felt about each other, about showing how much we loved one another through the slow rhythm, the tender kisses and the gentle caresses we each shared. When we had both reached our release Klaus rolled off me, pulling me with him and I lay across his chest, both of us content to lie in silence and just appreciate the peace of the moment.
 Xxx
 ‘I haven’t seen you for twenty-four hours, Ari! Where have you been?’ Katy cornered me as soon as I entered our hut. I had only just left Nik and was still revelling a little in the time we had spent together.
 ‘I was with Nik and before that I was sulking because I saw him with Tatia, but it turns out it was a complete misunderstanding.’ I waved off her worried expression and sat at our dining table, picking up one of our apples and eating it.
 ‘Honestly, I have come close to killing her so many times since we’ve been here. She’s a manipulative ho-bag, how can they not see that?’ Katy grumbled and I shot her an amused look, ‘what?’
 ‘Need I remind you of a couple of gentlemen that go by the name Salvatore?’ I smirked at her sheepish expression.
 ‘I didn’t have my humanity on then! What’s her excuse?’ She huffed, but she couldn’t help joining in on my laughter.
 ‘So what happened to you today? I haven’t seen you since the feast.’ My grin widened when she blushed.
 ‘Well Elijah bought me back here, but when I saw you and Klaus cuddled up together I thought it would be best if we gave you space. So we went to the creek and fell asleep on the grass under the stars. When we woke up, Elijah had to head out to do his chores and somehow Kol convinced me to help him and his mother with the cooking. I was worried when Bekah joined us and told me what you had both seen.’ Katy gave my hand a squeeze and I sent her a bright smile, genuinely happy after the talk I had with Nik.
 ‘It’s fine, like you said she’s manipulative.’ I shrugged, ‘listen Katy I’ve been thinking about how we’re going to say goodbye to them when we have to leave.’
 ‘Me too.’ She took the seat across from me, both of our moods suddenly very serious.
 I told her my theory, that I they would have their memories in the future. When she seemed sceptical, I told her about the memories that had been flashing through my mind the past few days; meeting Klaus, him finding me the day after, coming across Bekah when we were tracking Stefan and Nik, and Klaus’ willingness to put her past betrayal behind him after half a millennia and move on. I was relieved when she seemed to believe me, and I think we both felt relief from the pressure of having to make up a lie to tell them. We could tell them the truth, and compel them to believe something else to avoid suspicion until they were transformed themselves. After all, they couldn’t know that they were going to become vampires ahead of time, and we couldn’t compel them to forget us completely because that left the risk of someone in the village asking about us, or Anaya saying something. This was the best plan. All we had to do now was wait until the night we were to leave and compel them before the moon reached its apex.
 //
 ‘The future?’ Nik repeated, his eyes critically observing my expression searching for any hint of deceit.
 ‘Yes. Katarina and I are from the future, and in that future we know the both of you.’ I said, unable to stop myself from wringing my hands together nervously.
 ‘Know us how?’ Kol asked—we’d gathered everyone except Finn and Henrik to reveal this information to.
 ‘Well we have different relationships with all of you. I’m romantically involved with Elijah, Ari is with Klaus, and the rest of you are like siblings to us.’ Kat explained, looking a lot more confident than I did, but I knew she was just better at keeping her anxiety from showing.
 ‘How far into the future?’ Bekah questioned, her voice hesitant. I wondered if that was because she was having trouble believing us, or because she had a feeling that our answer wouldn’t be a good one.
 ‘A thousand years.’ I answered honestly, ‘give or take. When you first meet us, we won’t remember this meeting, because we’ll find each other before we get sent back to the past. Fifty years pass before that happens.’
 ‘How is that possible? You cannot be from a thousand years into the future.’ Elijah scoffed, but Kol seemed to believe us. But of course, he’d seen our other form.
 ‘We’re immortal beings, Elijah, the very same that you four will be soon.’ Kat said gently, knowing we couldn’t go into specifics.
 ‘Can you show us?’ Nik asked and my eyes found him for the first time since I admitted where we’d come from.
 His blue eyes were shining with… acceptance? It made my heart clench with hope as Katy and I shared a nod. I took a deep breath and allowed my vampire face to reveal itself, knowing that Kat was doing the same beside me. Kol wasn’t surprised, more interested than anything else. Bekah was shocked, but thankfully not afraid and Nik and Elijah were taken aback. My face returned to normal and my eyes fell to the ground, afraid of seeing fear or disgust in Nik’s eyes.
 I blinked, surprised, when Nik’s index finger lifted my chin and bought my gaze to his. I felt my eyes sheen over at the love shining in his blue eyes—it was the same way he looked at me in the future, with pure, unconditional love.
 ‘You’re beautiful, Arianna.’ He murmured, his thumb stroking over my cheekbone.
 I didn’t know what to say, so I placed my hand over the one he held to my face and turned to kiss his palm. He smiled gently and entwined my fingers through his, pulling me to his side.
 ‘Why are you telling us this now?’ Kol asked once Nik and I had returned from our “moment.”
 ‘Because we will be returning to our time tonight, and we wish for you to know the truth before then.’ Kat said, her arm around Elijah’s waist.
 ‘We must compel you to forget what we are, and where we came from.’ I admitted, feeling Klaus’ body stiffen next to mine. I went on to assure them all before they could get too angry, ‘it won’t be for long, I promise, when the time is right you’ll get your memories back.’
 Klaus relaxed a little, but I could tell the idea of having to forget everything for even a small amount of time wasn’t agreeable to any of them. Not to mention having to wait a thousand years to find us again.
 ‘Okay.’ Bekah said, her smile becoming reassuring when our eyes turned to her, ‘I trust you both, and I know you wouldn’t be doing this if it wasn’t necessary. I’m happy for you to temporarily tamper with my memories.’
 ‘Me too,’ Kol chimed in.
 Nik and Elijah didn’t need to say anything; we both know they would do anything that we needed them to do. In many ways, my relationship with this Nik was already close to what we had in the future. I leaned up and kissed his cheek, his stubble gently pricking my lips, and the warmth radiated from his skin, making me powerless to stop my eyes from fluttering shut for a moment.
 ‘Let’s do this.’ Kat murmured, her hand squeezing Elijah’s.
 We decided to only have one of us to compel everyone; it meant that the story they were being told to believe would be exactly the same. If two of us were doing it, we risked the possibility of details slightly differing. They were all told to believe that we’d decided to move onto another village and to forget the truth we’d told them that evening. They would remember when they were going through their transition of course, and we didn’t know when that would be exactly. Once it was done, Katy and I flashed away, leaving them in the stretch of forest close to their home as we met Anaya by her hut, where she was waiting for us to do the spell. She already had the ingredients and she was confident in the spell she had created to send us back. I knew it was going to work; if my Nik had remembered me from the past that had to mean we successfully returned to our present.
 Anaya started the spell, adding the vials of blood she’d taken from us to the wooden bowl in front of her, and I took Katy’s hand in mine, squeezing comfortingly as we started to fade from existence. I didn’t fight it, I didn’t fear it, I embraced it with open arms, eager to see my husband and family again.
 //
 ‘Ari?’ Katherine’s voice led to me opening my eyes, not realising that I’d even closed them.
 I looked around, noting we were in the same room we’d been in before we’d been sent back; an old abandoned warehouse where Ester and Finn had us cornered. Only, they weren’t here anymore. No one was here.
 ‘We’re back.’ I smiled, pulling Katy’s hand towards the exit and into the streets of New Orleans. It was the middle of the night and we were in one of the few parts of the city that was actually quiet at night.
 It didn’t take long for us to reach the compound and when we did I took a deep breath, inhaling the familiar scents of home. Nik’s paints probably still drying in his art room, Elijah’s collection of books, Kol’s magical ingredients that he collected even though he couldn’t really use them, and the increased scent of cotton assuring us Bekah’s clothing collection had probably grown in volume while we’d been gone.
 Before Katy and I could take another step, the sound of four people whooshing into the room reached us, followed by their appearances. I found Nik’s eyes first; his relief, his love, his gratitude shone in his blue orbs. I felt my own eyes fill with tears, but before I could flash over to him my arms were full as Bekah and Kol pulled Kat and I into a group hug.
 ‘I’m so glad you’re back sisters.’ Kol murmured, sounding a little choked up, though I was sure he’d never admit it.
 ‘We’ve missed you so much.’ Bekah added, her voice wrought with emotion. I hugged them both tightly, having missed them too—we may have been with them in the past but it wasn’t quite the same.
 ‘What happened to Ester and Finn?’ Kat asked once we’d been released, wiping tears of happiness from her cheeks.
 ‘Destroyed. We took measures to ensure she will not be able to return, nor will Finn.’ Kol assured us, but he didn’t elaborate. I shrugged it off for now, much more interested in being in my husband’s arms than pressing for the specifics.
 My eyes found his again and I was in front of him quicker than you could blink. He held his arms open and I wasted no time in diving to his warmth, inhaling his scent and feeling my bones melt as I fully relaxed into him.
 ‘It’s good to have you home, my love.’ He murmured, his voice thick with emotion.
 My face nuzzled into the crook of his neck, happy to be back, in the arms of the man who was my home, ‘It’s good to be home, Nik.’
 And I’m going to leave it there! I hope you liked this series, I’ve had it sitting in my drafts for a while now, I got so close to finishing a while back and until recently I was unsure of how to finish it. But I’m happy with this ending— Katherine and Arianna are home, and that’s all that matters, the rest is just details!
 Xoxo
 VampireGirl1797
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dorkyungsoowrites · 4 years
Text
Eros
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Pairings: Kyungsoo x You
Genre: Fluff | Jane Austen AU
Warnings: None
Word Count: 1.4k
Description: Ancient Greeks insist that there are eight different kinds of love, each given a name that holds special meaning…Eros: passionate love.
A/N: Requested by someone whose name is lost to the ether (I’m sorry I hope you find this. I remember it was “Kyungsoo x Reader by a lake plus neck kisses”), and inspired by a post @monicaexol​ made here. Also because you seemed excited, @j-pping​.
| Storge | Eros | ?
There is strict protocol for how a lady's morning is carried out. There is fairly strict--but not as strongly enforced--protocol for her schedule the rest of the day on most occasions afterward. And there are supremely stringent rules to educate them with proper manners and etiquette, usually through classes. At last there are the most dangerous and exhilarating rules cultivated and given by society to every girl as she rises into a woman to prepare them for the rigors and wiles of men. One learns most of these by proxy. If one is blessed with a doting mother, or in fact perhaps sisters were the best teachers second only to the honest and civil conversation with a gentleman, one could be moderately informed of the absolute blunder that fondness breeds on first approach.
So was the path of all affairs before engagement. Gossip and whispers and rumors flew faster than a lark, and the bird that flew it there held the biggest sway in reputation. Promoting each attendant of a party at least a week before the occasion, with each household choosing their favorites. Particularly of the young men and women who were eligible for their matchmaker gambling. Encouraging men to dance with particular women to line their pockets with pride.
That was how most couples met. It was how you met your sweetheart. Your family tittered about the gentleman that had come to visit the hosts of the future soiree for the summer. Japing about his reputation for being curt and austere. In truth you had been intrigued by the tales of his character for it seemed that you should not wholly trust the word of the birds alone.
It was most wise to hold back judgment for when you arrived at the gathering, for you were afflicted in the heart the moment of introduction. Mesmerized by his dark, severe eyes; striking you immobile with but a moments gaze. The memory was as clear as glass in your mind. The shape of his eyes, the intelligence and intensity in his irises, the way your breath tightened as your bosom inflamed. Longing, lusting, light-headed. You'd never seen such eyes.
So were the eyes you sought out a month after the party. The morning had been much the same as any other; your handmaiden helped you dress. First was your shift; a plain cotton garment you often slept in. Then the simple clocked stockings, secured with ribbon garter at the knee. A petticoat was necessary for warmth and modesty. Then the stay was laced around your torso with a wooden busk center front for posture support and to keep the figure once the dress went on. Next were pockets which you enjoyed stashing trinkets in to take to your secret affairs. After a hip pad was added, the outer layers could go on. A petticoat, a white neckerchief that was tucked into the front of the stay to protect your neck and chest from the sun, and the actual gown. As the off-white material was laced at the front you gazed down at the pattern on your long sleeves. Little blue flowers were speckled everywhere, and you lamented the season of falling, an autumn's blush in the trees and on your cheeks. Lastly was the silk apron to separate you from the workers of the household, and shoes with little silver buckles. All together the outfit was quite hardy, and you were able to slink away after lunch past the garden and through a narrow wood to a lake.
It was often as a child your siblings would swim during the sweltering summers there. It was well secluded from prying eyes and ears, but the waters were far too chilled that time of year. The stillness reflected the trees encompassing the grounds, and in the center, the purest blue called out for your heart to shine with it; luminescent and alluring. Letting your mind wander. It was in those moments that the voice that had been torturing your thoughts smiled behind you.
"Would I offend you, if I were to admit how long a time I've watched you?"
A grin stretched your lips, turning to see him approach. A hand was lowering the hat from his head, allowing the short, silken ebony locks to shine under the brightness of noon. The black and white suit he wore was proper, however devoid of accessories it was. And he had dained to switch the regular coat for something of thicker cloth and longer gait, the hem brushing his calves. It was a navy hue, highlighting the horrifically vivid and ethereal glow to his tawny complexion. Your heart could not be tamed at his approach just as the ocean would never cease to reach for the shore.
"Instead I would offer a warning," you replied. "For you shouldn't stare at the sun too long."
The hat was discarded, forgotten on the grass as saltwater embraced the sand and tarried. A wry smirk twisted his lips as his eyes focused on yours. Always intense and enchanting, and the light reflecting enhanced the color within, the sun swimming among his whiskey irises. Intent on getting you drunk.
"Then let beauty blind me and allow my last sight to be of everything that is precious. You are the sun and stars. You are the mountains, and the fields, and rivers and lakes. Always to be cherished. Never to be violated. Only to be loved...vigorously."
Words which you had never thought would ever leave a mouth as pretty as his, let alone become a bastion for fondness; his lips tender on your neck after his stark proclamation. Air became a rare commodity, catching in your throat. The bawdy action sent ripples of excitement through your body, and you clutched him closer. The indecentness would serve as a warning but for the sentiment in his heart.
Their families had made different matches for one another before the night you met; smarter matches they would tell. It only revealed their ignorance on the subject of affection. For if there was never a coupling such as yours for the next century, then not another couple would suffer as greatly in a century if you were parted.
The pressures of high society had been choking him and you. The birds, and the parties, and loquacious old women so sapped of their own vitality in their dull lives as to make interfering with others' their sole hobby. There never seemed to be a caring hand; someone who didn't only seek the ends. Get married; nevermind the adventure in courtship. Nevermind reveling in the company of a kind intellect. Nevermind celebrating the magnificence of life steeped in wonder while laying entwined in soul, spirit and body. Nevermind love.
He was of a mind to yearn for conversation and contented silence with a partner. To stroll away and earn peace and happiness without a crowd or extraneous clothes and property. You wished the same, and in the space between, your passions collided; coalescing into something greater. Being wanted solely and completely as yourselves, you may be able to break through that foul and ugly mist that had strangled you both.
"Shall I never tire of your winsome character," you elated.
A gust of wind dusted your cheeks with chill and fluttered your skirts. His mouth stole another taste of your skin before pulling back to greet your gaze once more, inadvertently shielding you from the cold. You were acquainted with a mien he intimated was rendered by you unwittingly; warm and soft with a smile that could raze even the strongest of wills.
"The days after our meeting," he said. "I spent walking through gardens hoping they would drive away the heavy thought of care, and perhaps it worked as such for I am here, with you now...without a care in my heart but for you." Your mouth opened, but his words carried on before you could reply. "Despite what our respective relatives might assume, this hasn't been some summer dalliance for me, and as I know I must return home before we are beset upon by winter, I know I would be leaving my heart here with it. Therefore, with all my soul and self bared vulnerable, I would disclose one more thought...nothing would make me happier than to escort you home alongside me as my betrothed."
"Is...this a proposal?"
"With an answer that is yours to give as you please."
The lake's reflection rippled under the wind. He lifted a hand to your face and it betrayed his calm; trembling as fingers fondled stray locks of hair and moved them aside. Tumultuous tenderness as his drunken eyes studied every heartbeat.
To leave all you knew to venture with all you wanted to know. Rational thoughts absconded from your mind. To pretend you required to rationalize this at all was folly. You knew the answer, and when your love collided with his in a kiss, he did too.
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acelucky · 4 years
Text
The burden that is mine
So here it is! My entry to this years’ @yearlyesca​ pic’n’fic. This is to accompany   the wonderful drawing of a young Folken and Van by @gasexplosionatthescalpelfactory​ Thanks to @radical-rad1986​ for organising ^_^
I wasn’t really sure where I was going when I started to write this, apart from the ending! But wanted to explore a little of their relationship and history with one another when younger. So often when we think of history we think of battles and important dates in any given countries or world calendar. I believe that some of our most important history actually comes from the small things, the little moments that make us who we are and that is what this little story is dedicated to. No warnings apply. 
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Fanelia was a country beautiful in all seasons, weathers and by the light of the moon and the sun. Folken had come to appreciate this from a very young age, the tapestries that were woven telling the tales of his country were 
Folken had the history of Fanelia practically imprinted in his mind, he knew it all in a beat. Every twist and turn for being the eldest child that had been his responsibility. It was one he had always taken seriously he knew all too well that if he proved himself then it would save Van from the strict upbringing he had. Not that it had been a bad upbringing, Folken was happy enough but the looming presence of his future, the uncertainty surrounding when he’d have to fight a dragon - all of this played on his mind.
So while sword practise was important, while his duties as Prince were of upmost importance, there always had to be a little time for fun and sibling bonding. 
Folken had it all planned, an entire day where neither he nor Van would have lessons or training or anything formal. It was a well orchestrated day where they would escape the castle and enjoy time together fishing, playing, having a picnic. He had been looking forward to it all week but hadn’t spoken a word of his plan to his brother for he wanted it to be a surprise. 
When Folken woke up on the day of their escape from duty, sunlight shone through his windows, casting beams across the floor and his bed, warming his face before the day begun. He often slept with the curtains wide open so he could watch the stars and moon in the sky as he drifted off into dream land.
There had been one evening where Van had sat with him on his bed star-gazing. 
“The stars, there’s so many of them,” Van commented as he stood by the window and looked up at the sky full of wonder and innocence.
Folken hadn’t responded to Van’s comment straight away, rather he let him bask in the moon’s light, stood by his side. A heavy weight rest on his shoulders but in moments like this it simply melted away.
“The stars watch over us Van…”
He got up and opened the windows so they could listen to the soft breeze and owls outside. He pointed out the constellations in the sky and told the tales that went with them. Van sat captivated by each tale, listening to legends about mythical beasts, knights and Kings & Queens of old. He took each story seriously and would continue to pester Folken for more stories and information over the coming weeks.
It never annoyed Folken, he had all the time in the world for his little brother when he was able to escape Princely duties for a day or eve. 
Now as Folken woke he enjoyed the sight of the orange and pink glow of the sky a few clouds drifting across lazily, swallows flitting by, scooping and diving. He stretched his limbs as he yawned and wondered if Van would be awake yet, it was unlikely he chuckled to himself thinking of how often Van would end up napping during important events.
Two cats, one ginger and one a smoky grey were curled up at Folken’s side. They barely moved when he stretched apart from to join him in yawning, their tails occasionally twitching as they dreamt. The servants despaired at first, the cats should be fed out back of the kitchen and there alone, they should also sleep in their beds in the lower part of the castle, not in a Prince’s bedroom! But Folken adored them, at times he was awfully lonely and he found comfort in the cats.
When he entered his brother’s bedroom, Van was dreaming, it had to be a good dream, of that he was sure. He had a small smile on his face and was muttering something under his breath, a small spot of drool was at the corner of his mouth. Folken got out a handkerchief and gently wiped, careful not to wake the sleeping Prince. 
He watched his brother sleeping, sat on a chair by his bed side and smiled fondly, there was no need to wake him up so early. In many ways Van was Folken’s world and would do anything to prepare his brother for the life that lay ahead of him, do anything to protect him. A part of this meant shielding him from the darker parts of life for as long as possible.
When Van finally awoke and Folken told him his plans for the day, Van couldn’t contain his excitement as he rushed to get ready. His eyes had been wide, a face of wonder just like when they watched the stars together.
An hour later and the two brothers were sat side by side, arms touching, at the end of a pier quietly fishing, soaking up the sun and watching the sun reflected on the water. There was a gentle breeze that carried the smell of summer on it. Van had been telling his brother all about his hopes and dreams for the future, excited chatter of a child who didn’t know any better, a child to whom a knight was the most marvellous thing in the world. A child who had yet to learn the horrors of war or the gut-wrenching pain of loosing someone you love.
Folken decided now was not the day to open his eyes to that part of the world. Instead, much against others wishes, he encouraged his brother with his childish dreams and hoped one day he could escape on adventures and live a life less confided to duty. 
Van suddenly jumped excitedly as he felt something tug on the end of the line, “I think….I think I caught something!” 
Folken smiled and helped him hold the line, “Nice and steady, reel it in nice and slow okay?”
Van nodded and with a look of sheer determination on his face reeled in the catch. When he succeeded in pulling it out of the water he exclaimed excitedly and looked at the fish. As he held it up the scales glittered in the sunlight there was a second where he looked so happy and pleased and then his expression changed dramatically and he burst into tears.
“What’s wrong?” Folken asked as he wrapped his arm round his brother.
“It’s my fault, it must be in so much pain, it’s innocent.”
Folken had to smile, yes, it was better he was the older sibling, “It’s okay, look, we can let it go,” Folken gently unhooked the fish, “See?”
Van rubbed his eyes and opened them to reveal how watery and red they already were, gave a small sob as he saw what his brother had done. He sniffed and nodded, “Can we let him go?”
Another sniff.
Folken turned to Van and smiled widely, “Of course, look,” Folken bent down and placed the fish back in the water which hurriedly swam away.
Van hugged him tightly, “Thank you brother, I’m sorry I was so weak please don’t tell father.”
He looked up with eyes so pitiful that Folken felt a sting of guilt, was this really how he felt about his own father? Was Van really this scared of disappointing others?
“I promise,” Folken placed hands on Van’s cheeks, “I promise little bro okay? I’m so proud of you.”
After this Folken decided it was time to change activity, they packed up the fishing gear and went for a long rambling walk through the forest and over hills. There were moments where the brothers were silent, but it was never boring or uncomfortable. Van was happy to run ahead and hide so Folken had to find him, or to climb trees and talk to the birds and creatures he came across while his brother was happy to watch on. 
It was when they reached the top of an incredibly large hill that Folken flashed his brother a wicked grin, “Race yah!” 
And with that Folken was off running at great speed down the other side of the hill. 
Van laughed, “Brother!” he shouted after Folken as he ran down the hill behind him. He was laughing as the motion of his legs carried him faster and faster to the point where he was sure he’d fall over and roll the rest of the way down the bottom. Folken looked over his shoulder at his brother but still managed to continue running without missing any steps or wobbling.
Both brothers managed to run all the way to the bottom of the hill without tripping or falling, and both laughed all the way down. Folken felt the weight lifted again, just running like that without any judgement from anyone, without any care for the time, it was the best feeling in the world.
As they reached the bottom where the grass still sloped a little, Van fell to the floor and decided to roll down it like a log. Folken watched, deciding not to join in this particular activity, instead he pulled out a picnic blanket and the food he brought with him. When Van got up and walked back towards him he couldn’t help but noticing how disheveled he now looked. 
But…This was nice, too many hours were spent in clothes he wasn’t allowed to get dirty so having time out where they could get covered in mud, where grass stains didn’t matter.
Van flopped down on the grassy verge next to Folken who was now laid on his back watching the clouds go by. Van copied Folken, crossing his arms behind his head and sighing in a fashion that could only be described as trying to mimic his older brother. The kind of sigh that was the letting out of adult frustrations.
After a few minutes of silence Van turned his head to the side to see his brother’s eyes were closed. There was an overwhelming urge to jump on him and tickle him or play some prank but Van, despite his young age, knew how rare it was for Folken to actually relax and switch off from duty for a moment. 
Van rolled back onto his back and traced the clouds with his index finger, he muttered under his breath what the different formations looked like. A large yellow butterfly flew close to his face and he watched with interest as it landed on a flower nearby. 
He felt Folken’s weight shift next to him and turned back to see his brother’s eyes open. A smile spread across his face, “Sorry little bro, I must have dosed off.”
Van sat up and then back on his heels and cocked his head to the side, “It’s okay,” he smiled brightly, the sun reflected in his eyes and Folken knew that he would do anything he had to to protect the innocence which was still such a part of his brother.
“Food?” Folken asked as he sat up and started to pull various picnic items out of his bag. “I brought something especially for you, I was going to wait until we’d eaten the savoury items but this is a day of fun after-all,” he winked as he pulled out some of Van’s favourite chocolates and some cherries.
Van clasped his hands together, his eyes lighting up, “My favourites!”
Folken laughed as he handed them across to Van, it was good to see that he hadn’t been tainted by duty and was still able to take pleasure in the small things.
Van looked at the large chocolate bar in his hands and then broke it into chunks, he handed one back to Folken, kept one for himself and put the other into his bag.
“Saving that for later?”
Van bit down on the chocolate and with mouth still full said, “No, it’s for my tutor.”
Innocent and uncommonly kind, thought Folken. He preyed that his reign would be long and fruitful so that Van could live a more ordinary and happier life. 
“I will take that burden so you don’t have to,” Folken said quietly.
Van looked up from the food, “Huh?”
Folken’s cheeks blushed with colour, “Nothing, sorry, I didn’t realise I was speaking aloud.”
“We should do this again,” Van said.
Folken nodded, “We will brother we will.”
Van ruffled Folken’s hair, “Good, next time I get to choose the activity.”
“Okay, well next time you can bring me snacks,” Folken teased.
Van huffed and crossed his arms, “But you’re the adult.”
“Ahhh so I’ll make the decisions then.”
“Not fair!” Van poked his tongue out and then fell on top of Folken laughing. 
This was a mistake, Folken knew every spot where Van was most ticklish and the second Van had pounced on him he had pretty much sealed his fate. Van’s laughter could be heard all around as Folken flipped him over and started to tickle under his armpits and down his sides. 
“Not my flank!” Van screeched with laughter.
‘Flank’ was an on-going joke they’d had between them since they’d both been very young, they would pretend to be horses and walk around on all fours neighing. Somewhere the word flank got used when Folken would tickle his brother and it carried on. 
“Please brother stop I’ll be sick and all before I’ve been able to eat this wonderful food!” Van pouted and at that Folken eased up. He didn’t wish to spoil Van’s appetite, the boy was growing fast and needed plenty of nutrition. 
They sat in peace slowly eating the small feast Folken had prepared, chatting in between mouthfuls, telling jokes and watching beetles that crawled across the blanket.
“Folken, what do you think are the most important things in Fanelian history that I should commit to memory?” Van asked suddenly.
Folken froze in response, not today, he didn’t want to talk about any of this today. And then he realised he didn’t have to because the answer was staring right at him. He smiled and put his food down, pointed at Van and then at himself, “This is.”
Van was silent for a moment and then a small smile appeared on his face as if he understood what his brother meant. 
“We’ll be able to do this forever won’t we?” Van asked, a change now in his tone from happy to melancholy. The question wasn’t simply that, it was born of his hopes and dreams, it was a request. Van needed reassurance from his older brother that no matter how much changed or many years passed, their bond would remain strong and there were some things, the simple and small things in life which would remain the same.
Folken put his arm round his brother and pulled him close, “Yes, of course, I promise.”
But Folken knew that there was no guarantee of this, he knew there was a chance that within years he’d have to break that promise. But there was another promise he would not break, and that was the burden that was placed on his shoulder, the burden that is mine and mine alone, I will protect you forever through accepting that burden, Folken thought. 
Before they got too serious Folken pulled away and now ruffled Van’s hair, “Race you to the wishing well!”
Van should have known better when he saw Folken begin to pack things away but his brother’s action caught him completely off guard, “Hey, no fair!” He laughed as he sprung up and chased after the other. 
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abundanceofsoph · 4 years
Text
SkyFire 1: Chapter 21
On the Road Again cont. & Rascal Flatts: August 2015
Word count: 3.3k
SkyFire 1 MASTERLIST
>Instagram posts
As August began, the band found themselves back in New York. Following a show in Pittsburgh they arrived in the morning, the day before they were scheduled to appear on Good Morning America for the shows Summer Concert series and since it was scheduled to be filmed in Central Park, a mere stones throw away from Avengers Tower, it made sense for them to stay there instead of booking hotel suites for all of them.
Tony and Steve were glad to have Rori home, if only for two days, having missed her while she travelled with the band for the last 2 months and she’d missed them too, of course, happy to be home briefly before continuing on with the tour for another month. That evening they all crowded into the living room in the penthouse with Sam, Bucky and Thor joining the Stark-Rogers family and the band. They watched a movie, Aurora curled up against Tony, his arm wrapped around her shoulder. She fell asleep at some point, waking up when Louis started throwing popcorn at her, causing Niall to laugh hysterically. They didn’t stay up too late, aware of how early they would need to be up the following morning.
They sky was still dark when they woke the next morning and the sun was still hidden behind the city skyline, barely lighting the sky as they left the tower and walked across the road towards the southwest corner of Central Park. They were joined by the bands security team as they made their way up West Drive and across Sheep Meadow to reach the Summer Stage in Rumsey Playfield. Despite the pre-dawn hour, fans were already camped out across the park, having slept out overnight to ensure their spots for the concert and the five of them dashed towards the backstage tents behind the stage, avoiding drawing the attention of the fans in the soft morning light.
Finally, the sun rose into the sky, warming the summer morning and Aurora grinned with pride as they boys sat on the stage in front of all their fans, talking about the upcoming album, the rest of the tour and Louis’ exciting baby news. By the time the interview concluded, and the boys prepared for the first song, the morning was already warming up and Aurora removed her jacket, revealing her sundress and her most recent tattoo, a rose nestled between her shoulder blades, the stem tracing down her spine. She lifted her hands into the air, joining the fans surrounding her, cheering as the boys stepped back out on the stage and started the performance.
By the time the last song came to an end, Aurora made her way out of the crowd and towards the backstage tent, throwing her arms around Harry once he made his way of the stage.
xXx
After leaving New York, the tour stopped in Rutherford and Baltimore before taking 9 days off and while Niall, Liam and Louis used the time to fly home and see family briefly, Harry and Aurora headed for the coast to spend a few days on the beach.
Aurora barely wasted a moment to drop her bags inside the little beachfront cottage that they’d rented before she was out the door and heading down to the warm sand. Harry joined her a few moments later, wrapping his arms around her stomach as he came up behind where she was standing, her eyes closed and face turned towards the water, soaking up the afternoon sunlight, their toes digging into the sand below them.
They spent the next few days swimming in the ocean, reading or watching movies in the evenings and revelling in the opportunity to spend time alone together with nowhere to be or no one demanding their attention for one thing or another. On their last evening they were curled up on the porch swing, looking out over the moonlit waves, a blanket thrown over their laps to ward off the cool breeze blowing up off the ocean. Harry had a glass of wine in one hand, his other resting around Aurora’s shoulders as her head lay on his shoulder.
“So, there’s something I need to tell you before we get back to the tour,” Harry said, breaking the comfortable silence that had stretched around them in the summer night. “Something the boys and I have been talking about for a while now.”
“Should I be worried?” Rori asked, lifting her head up to look into his eyes.
“No,” Harry promised, “but we’ve decided to take a break. We’re going to go on a hiatus for a year or two.”
“What?” Aurora asked, surprised by the news, having had no idea that it was even an idea before now. “But things have been going so well. Why?”
“We’re all exhausted,” he explained. “None of us have gotten the chance to see our families or live our lives for more than a few weeks at a time in years. We’re in our early 20s and we’ve been working non-stop for the last 5 years. Zayn leaving just made us realise that this isn’t healthy for any of us and we decided we should take a year or two off now before any of us burn out. I don’t want any of them to leave like he did, I can’t do that again. If we all take a break now, we can make sure that doesn’t happen. I just hope the fans don’t hate us for it.”
“Oh Harry,” Rori sighed, wrapping her arms around her boyfriend and pulling him tightly against her. “They’ll be upset but they’ll support you guys no matter what happens. So will I.”
“I love you Rori,” he whispered. “Don’t know what I’d do without you in my life.”
“Good thing you’ll never have to find out,” she replied, smiling warmly up at the man she loved before kissing him. “When are you going to announce it?” she asked softly when they pulled apart.
“In a few weeks.”
xXx
Aurora and Harry flew into Columbus, Ohio the day before the band was scheduled to perform there, and while Harry headed for the stadium for rehearsals and interviews, Aurora took a cab to a local music studio.
She was nervous as she climbed out of the cab, adjusting the hem of her shirt as she made her way through the front doors and gave her name to the receptionist behind the front desk. She was buzzed through the doors to the right and instructed to take the first right and then the third door on the left. Aurora knocked as she opened the door and stepped into the control room, the large window in one wall looking into a spacious live room, instruments and microphones already set up and waiting. There were 3 men sitting in the control room, who all stood when she entered, stepping forward to introduce themselves. Gary, Jay and Joe were all lovely guys, and Aurora was a little star struck at first, having been fans of Rascal Flatts for years, but after spending most of the day chatting and getting to know each other she quickly got over that and was able to look forward to working alongside them for the 2 weeks without the overwhelming anxiety.
The following night Aurora watched the boys from the side of stage and once they left the stadium, she spent the evening wrapped up in Harry’s arms back at the hotel.
“So, Toronto, Chicago, Milwaukee and then you’re back with me,” Rori mumbled in the darkness.
“You’ll be so busy writing number 1 hits that you won’t have time to miss me,” Harry chuckled, trying to brighten his girlfriend’s mood.
“I know it’s silly,” she said. “It’s only 2 weeks but I’m so used to sleeping next to you every night.”
“It’s not silly, love,” Harry promised. “I feel the same, and I really wish we were gonna be together when the hiatus announcement drops.”
“You’ll have the boys with you. You’ll be ok. Just remember the fans love you guys so much. They could never hate you.”
“It’s gonna break their hearts though,” Harry mumbled. “Hate the thought of hurting them after they’ve given me my dreams.”
“And that’s why I love you.”
xXx
For the entirety of the two weeks Harry was gone, Aurora spent almost every moment she could in the studio with Gary, Joe and Jay, revelling in the opportunity to spend uninterrupted time writing and playing. She’d never set aside so much time to write music, usually spending an afternoon here or there, or scribbling lyrics in the back of notebooks while she studied, and she loved every minute of it.
“Ok I’ve got half of something,” Rori said one morning after they’d piled into the studio. “Just a half assed melody and a verse and chorus I came up with last night.”
“Alright well let’s hear it,” Joe said.
Aurora flipped open her notebook to the page she scribbled on the previous night and began to sing what she had, humming when she didn’t have the words to fill the gap.
I know we're running … usually two different ways But we need more than just a quick kiss and a wave goodbye I need you and only you by my side Why don't we turn off the phones, get somewhere alone? I'll trace that smile on your face, 'til the stars fade away Baby, cut off the lights, let our hands talk tonight There's things that need to be said, …. Got good love to be made, take as long as it takes One touch at a time, let our hands talk tonight
Joe picked up his guitar when she finished singing and started to put together the melody, asking her to re-sing certain sections, and then Jay was joining in with the bass line and Gary started piecing together another verse. They spent a few says working on the song until they’d finished Hands Talk and moved on to work on something else.
They played most of Yours If You Want It to Aurora towards the end of the first week and she made some suggestions to the unfinished song, writing a section to slip into the song about 2/3rds of the way through.
Every dollar, every dime, every drop of rain                                                   Every single thing I could beg, steal, or borrow Every yesterday and tomorrow Well every grain of sand on the beach Every blade of grass under our feet Baby your name is written on it And it's yours if you want it
“I love it,” Gary said, singing it through a few times for smiling widely. “Inviting you down here was the best idea we’ve ever had.”
The second week of Aurora’s stay in Columbia, she and Gary put their heads together and wrote Are You Happy Now over the course of a few days and after Gary sang the song through with Joe and Jay accompanying him on the guitar and bass, and Aurora playing the piano, all four of them were grinning from ear to ear with excitement.
“This one’s good,” Jay said.
“Let’s go through once more I want to try something,” Aurora said, already starting to play the opening keys of the song. The guys laughed at her eagerness but joined in quickly and when they reached the bridge and the third chorus, Aurora joined in on the vocals with Gary.
“Now that I'm not around,” Gary sang with Aurora echoing the line. “Now that you've finally,” Gary began, Aurora joining him on the second half of the line, “lost what you thought that you needed, never would have treated your heart, like you did. What goes around comes back around.” “It's been that way forever,” Gary continued. “Baby, just look at you now,” they sang together, Gary dropping out to let Aurora finish the line alone, “barely holding it together.” they alternated the next four lines seamlessly, Gary singing first and then Aurora.
“We're so in love.”
“but you gave that up.”
“Just look around.” “Just look around.”
And then they sang the last chorus together, occasionally alternating lines, dipping in and out of the lyrics, watching each other to read which lines to take and which to leave for the other.
“Oh wow,” Jay said when they finished the song. “That was incredible.”
Aurora smiled, blushing as all three men gushed about how great hers and Gary’s voices had blended together.
“This going to have to be a duet,” Gary said, before sitting down with the lyrics and working out where to split the song between the two of them. In the end, Gary took the first verse and Aurora took the second, while they sang the chorus’s together, layering their voices together as the song built toward the final chorus, following the same arrangement they’d sang the first time round and then Aurora played out the final few notes on the piano. After practicing the arrangement a few times, they called it a day and agreed that when they came in the next day they would get in the technician to record the song in full since Aurora only had 2 more days left to work with the boys before she had to drive the 2 hours up to Cleveland to meet back up with Harry and the tour.
They spent every minute of those two days recording the track, Aurora not only laying down her vocals but also playing the piano on the track. An hour before she needed to be on the road, they were all crowded into the control room to listen to the finished song, no one making a sound as it played.
Aurora was grinning from ear to ear when the song faded out to silence, immensely proud of the song and all the work they’d put into it over the last week.
“Thank you so much for this opportunity guys,” she said, turning to look at each of them.
“We should be thanking you,” Joe laughed. “We’re the ones that have 3 incredible tracks for the next album thanks to you. I don’t think we’ve ever had such a productive two weeks in our lives.”
“Me either,” Rori agreed. “But honestly I just had so much fun, so thank you for inviting me down here.”
“You’re welcome, Rori,” Gary said. “There’s actually something we wanted to ask you before you leave. We usually perform at the CMAs in November and me and the boys were talking last night. We were wondering if you’d want to come down and debut Happy Now with us?”
“You want me to sing at the Country Music awards with you?” Aurora asked, shock clear on her face and in her voice causing all three men to chuckle.
“We do,” Jay replied. “The songs bloody great. You in?”
“Absolutely!” Aurora cheered, grinning broadly, all three men hugging her tightly before she said her goodbyes and climbed into the cab waiting for her outside.
xXx
Unlike the previous year when Harry had gone to New York with her at the end of her time on tour, this year she stood in the departures lounge of the Buffalo airport watching as Harry walked away from her to board a flight to Montreal. She tried to hold back the tears threatening to spill from her eyes, knowing that she would see him in November for the CMAs. She held it together right up until he turned around to wave goodbye one last time and the sad expression on his face pushed her over the edge, breaking the dam and sending the tears dripping over her cheeks. The moment Harry saw them, he dropped his bag and run back towards her, causing Niall to pause where he had been walking beside him.
Harry swept Aurora up in his arms, gripping her tightly as her breath stuttered. She tried desperately to pull herself together, knowing that her reaction would only hurt the man she loved, making it more difficult for him to get on the plane that would take him away from her.
“9 weeks,” Harry whispered. “9 weeks and I’ll be back.”
“I know,” Rori replied, her face still buried in his shoulder. “I love you.”
“I love you too. God, I don’t want to get on that plane,” Harry said. “I want to stay here with you and never leave again.”
“You’d be bored,” Rori joked, pulling back from the hug and pecking his lips one last time.
“Never. This hiatus can’t start soon enough,” he sighed.
“You have to go,” Rori urged, pushing him away gently, noticing Niall still waiting by the gate. “Call me when you land.”
Harry pulled her in for one last desperate kiss before turning and walking back to Niall. He didn’t turn back this time and Aurora held her breath until he disappeared from view. As soon as he was gone, she let the sobs break through her chest, slowly walking through the terminal towards her own gate. She waited in the private lounge until her flight was ready and then made her way on board, settling into her first class seat. She put on her headphones and shuffled Four, a soft smile ghosting over her lips as she listened to Harry’s voice, leaning her head back against the seat with her eyes shut as the plane began to taxi down the runway. She let herself wallow in her sadness, knowing that she would need to put it aside when she reached home in about 2 hours’ time. Leaving Harry was never easy, and she hated the months they spent apart but at the same time she had desperately missed her family and was anxious to see them again. She was also excited to start back at school the following week, eager to begin her final year of college, knowing that once she graduated she would be free to travel the world with Harry and very little would keep them apart now that the band was going on Hiatus for the next year and a half.
xXx
A few days after she returned home, Tony and Steve were scheduled to appear on the Late Show for the first night with the new host Stephen Colbert, and since she didn’t have any classes the day they were needed at the Ed Sullivan Theatre, Aurora decided to join them for the day. Having appeared on the Late Show a couple of times when it was hosted by Letterman, Aurora somewhat knew her way around the theatre, although it was interesting to see the subtle changes that had been made for the shows soft reboot with a new host. She’d watched Tony and Steve’s interview from the green room, smiling softly at Steve awkwardness and Tony’s absolute calm in front of the cameras and the audience. Colbert asked them about the team, about leading them together and of course he asked about their relationship. Tony took the lead with most of the answers but when they were asked what it was like having your husband next to you in a fire fight, it was Steve that answered first.
“It’s the best and worst part of the job,” he answered, his arm slung over Tony’s shoulder. “Fantastic because there’s no one I’d trust to have my back more than Tony, but it’s also completely terrifying because if he goes down, I know I’m out of the fight too because I’m going straight for him and getting him out of there.”
They answered more questions about Avenging before being asked about family life.
“Never planned on being a dad,” Tony said. “But Rori’s such an incredible woman and she’s made both of our lives so much better in the last 4 years. Can’t imagine not being a dad anymore.”
“And Steve,” Colbert asked, “what’s it like being a stepdad?”
“Like Tony said,” Steve replied, “Aurora’s so incredible and being her dad is probably the best thing I’ve ever done with my life. I’m very lucky to have her as my daughter. As our daughter.”
NEXT CHAPTER
OR CONTINUE READING ON AO3
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What Might Have Been - 16
@goodomenscelebration​ - themes prompts!
Read the full story on AO3!
Happy Good Omens Armageddoniversary! How many of these can I post in one day?
(For those who have not read previous sections: Kasbeel is our Aziraphale, trapped in another universe and going by a pseudonym. Crowley’s “mirror image” is his AU self.)
Far Future
Kasbeel hovered in the air, giving his report.
“The demonic army attempted to strike from the Scottish Highlands, reinforced by several thousand of the Marked soldiers. They were driven off by Matafiel’s troops. We believe there may be some still hidden far to the north, on the Outer Hebrides.”
“These names mean nothing to us,” said Tufriel, rolling his eyes towards his partner. “Some of these scouts are starting to go native.”
“Won’t be a problem much longer,” Bezaliel replied. “Never mind the demons, we’ll get an update further north. Is this land still free from the blight?”
“Yes, Dominion,” Kasbeel bobbed his head with the correct amount of deference. “The whole of the Peak District is believed to be the last area free of Abaddon’s curse anywhere on this island, though rumors persist of some clear ground in Ireland.”
“Are there any humans left on the islands?” Bezaliel asked.
“The Retrieval squads took ours and we cleared out the rest last month.” Tufriel crossed his arms. “If only this island were so easy to deal with. Still, if this is the only unblemished land, it’s probably where the humans will gather. Once they realize they can’t get in the city. We’ll keep watching it. Good work.”
“Thank you.” He held up his messenger tube, sealed and directed to Michael’s base camp in Cornwall. “I will need to continue south with this. Do you have any details to add?”
“Only that I thought we’d be finished by now. Seven damn years of this. How much longer is it supposed to go on, anyway?”
Bezaliel grinned hungrily. “Not much more. Our offensive should begin in a little less than a month.” A wink towards the dutiful scout. “Keep an eye on the sky, tonight or tomorrow. Things are starting to happen.”
Kasbeel saluted, and the other two returned to their patrol. When they were well out of sight, he landed on a bare rock outcrop and hummed. Not with his lips; his wings vibrated, creating a single, perfect tone, echoing off the stones of the Peaks.
The humans began emerging from their hiding spots almost immediately, secreted behind stones or in deceptive hollows. Mostly teenagers, a few older, many younger, about half with a Mark upon their faces. They gathered around the angel, moving silently on the grass and moss.
It took nearly an hour for all to arrive. Kasbeel’s group of wanderers now numbered in the hundreds.
“Doesn’t sound like we’re going to be safe up here much longer,” Lyla said, without preamble. “Probably should have left last week, like I said.”
“Perhaps,” Kasbeel conceded, waving his arm to miracle up some food. It wasn’t much. Loaves of bread, potatoes, carrots. A little bit of meat, but he couldn’t produce anywhere near enough for a group this large. “But if we’d left then, Jennifer, Mickey and Ollie wouldn’t have found us.” At only five years old, Ollie was the youngest they’d taken in.
“Fine.” Lyla counted out the servings of meat and checked her list. “Group six gets the meat tonight. Only group six, Alex, I know that doesn’t include you.” She turned back to the angel who led them. “But we leave tonight.”
“Agreed.” He sighed, looking around the tumbling rocks one more time. “We’ll have to move quickly. This was a good hiding place. We won’t find another place this convenient, or this safe.”
“Where to, then?” Lyla grabbed Alex’s wrist, sending the thirteen-year-old over to the bread line. “Ireland? I don’t know how we’ll cross the sea, but it sounds like they’ve stopped looking there.”
Kasbeel pursed his lips. “Have you given up on finding New Eden, then?”
She spun towards him, fury in her eyes. “You know I haven’t. But it could be anywhere in the world! How the hell are we ever going to find it? We’ve barely searched half of England in over three years.”
He winced. “Three years, four months, six days,” he muttered. It was a very, very long time to go without hearing from Crowley. He’d tried contacting the demon in his dreams, over and over. He was here. He could sense that. But nothing else. “It’s in England. It must be. One of the patrols told me…Aziraphale,” he hesitated over the name, as always, “chose the location himself. He wouldn’t pick anywhere other than England.”
“Your double.” Lyla sat down next to him. She had grown, in the last three years, her hair getting long, her clothing replaced by whatever they could loot in half-abandoned cities, as was the case for all Kasbeel’s wards. Even her newest shirt was threadbare, the colors faded, as if the inanimate objects of the world had ceased to care. “You never told me what the deal was with you two.”
“No. I think it would be rather too much for you to understand.”
“Kasbeel, the world is ending. The ground is cursed. And I spend half my time talking to a rogue angel. What could possibly be weird at this point?”
He smiled. “My child, you haven’t the first idea.” He smoothed his hands down his jacket, then realized he was still in his scout uniform. A wave of his fingers turned it back to the familiar suit, bowtie and all. “Still, if you like, I can bring you all to Ireland before I continue my search. It should only take a few days to reach the coast, even with the young ones. After that…” he hesitated. Miracle up a giant ship? And how to make sure it landed somewhere unblighted?
“You know we won’t last a day without you,” Lyla sighed. “Wherever you’re going, you’re stuck with us.”
He turned back to the crowd that he had slowly gathered across the years. Orphans. Renegades. Many of them troublemakers who had been thrown out of the gangs they thought would protect them, others the only survivors by angelic or demonic attack. Exhausted, half-malnourished, so worn and dirty as to almost blend in with the rocks around them.
But not afraid. Of all the people left in the world, and Kasbeel feared there were not many, these few hundred slept safely at night, under the watch of an angel.
His godchildren.
“My dear Lyla, I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He settled down on a rock that conveniently grew to about the size of an armchair, with a thick cushion of moss.
She rolled her eyes at him. “How is it even out here, you manage to pamper yourself?”
“Millennia of practice. Now, what do you say we try for London again? It’s a risk, with all the patrols, but it may be the only place large enough to hide this many.”
“Assuming we can get in.”
“Assuming so, yes,” he said, gazing across the crowd. “And it sounds like there are many angels gathered in the south. But If I’m right about the wall of energy surrounding the city, I may know how to cross it.”
“And you still think your friend might be there.”
Kasbeel nodded. “I can’t imagine where else he might be. He should have contacted me by now, but they say no messages can get out of London. But, still, I would think–”
A cry went up from the gathered crowd, a scream of fear, echoed by person after person. “The sky!” Someone shouted, pointing. “The clouds are parting!”
In an instant, Kasbeel was on his feet, wings spread. He should have heard the trumpets, sensed the angels long before they parted the clouds – he had spent months honing his senses, in order to protect his charges. He braced himself for the orders that would arrive in his mind; if the Guardian of Humanity were among them, it would be difficult to resist…
Nothing came.
Instead, the clouds simply drifted apart, faster and faster, not a small parting but the whole sky, revealing the fading blue of twilight, deepening to black. Stars pierced the sky, just a few at first, but each bright as a jewel, clearer than he could ever remember them being, even in Heaven.
“Oh my God…” Lyla whispered, stepping next to him. “It’s clear. It hasn’t been clear since…since the war…I was a kid…”
Another star seemed to burst into view, white and shining, and Kasbeel fell to his knees, remembering…remembering a cottage in the South Downs, a blanket in the back garden, laying on his back and watching them arrive, while next to him…next to him…
That one’s Regulus. Not one of mine, Angel, that was some snooty wanker who thought he was so clever just because he could get four stars to orbit each other. And over there is Arcturus. Also technically not mine, but I had this really great idea and I needed a red giant to test it out on. It worked, by the way, so keep an eye out for a helium flash in the next thousand years or so…
It hurt, like being pierced by a spear, like being torn apart. He reached out a hand, grasping, wishing to feel Crowley, lying at his left side, as he always was, his protector, his partner, his friend…
A small hand caught his, wrapping around his fingers. He turned, blinking tears from his eyes, to see Lyla, kneeling beside him. A moment later the others started gathering around. Mickey, Rahima, Alex, Lochlan, Mariah, Amiyah, Dominic, Ollie, and so many more.
“Look,” Kasbeel said, pointing at the sky. “That star there. That’s Regulus. And over there…that one is named Arcturus…”
--
Far away, in a cell that seemed to exist in its own bubble far from anything else, Crowley snapped awake, emerging from a dream that was slightly less painful than reality.
Something had changed.
He could feel it, deep inside. Something that had been missing, suddenly returned.
“It’s the stars,” said his mirror image, across the cell. Shoftiel had left them both in their human bodies this time. The manacles that held their wrists – Crowley’s left, his mirror image’s right – were too short to lay down comfortably, so they both sprawled against their walls.
They didn’t talk much. The secrets they held were the only things keeping them alive. So they simply existed, here, together, witnessing each other’s pain and humiliation, waiting for their own turns. It bonded them in ways conversation never could.
“The sky is clear again,” the mirror image continued, looking up at the ceiling, lost to the dark above. “I wish I could see it.”
“Yeah,” Crowley said, allowing himself to remember a night on a blanket in a garden, just for a moment. “Me, too.”
“Not long now,” the mirror image said. “Seven years. That’s all it ever was.” His eyes met Crowley’s, and they were full of fear. They couldn’t hide their emotions without the glasses, and that was one thing they were never allowed. “If the stars are back, time’s nearly up.”
“So they’ve…learned everything?” It wasn’t something they asked each other. But if it was the end, Crowley wanted to know.
“Just one secret left.” The mirror image rolled his head, with a broken version of Crowley’s smile. “How to get into London.”
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Evak Fics - Reconciliation
Read the tags as a few might be open ending. And in some of these they were still together in the beginning. Man, this list is angsty! I’m already planning on rereading them.
This will be under a read more.
Light by bri_ness (885 words) - Open ending. Even lays a beach towel down on the small patch of grass beside his apartment building’s parking lot, right beside the dumpster. He knows romance can thrive in spite of its setting. He looks at the stars, and he remembers. 
pull him back by hippopotamus (2k words) - “That’s my hoodie,” Isak says. “You left it at mine,” Even replies, as if Isak wasn’t fully aware of that. “And you didn’t ask for it back.” 
Resolution by bri_ness (2k words) - Isak's residency has him questioning his decision to be a doctor. When he's home for the holidays, he runs into Even, who gives him a new perspective. 
No One Knows Me Like You Do by obscurial (2.6k words) - He’s also shockingly sober, which only serves to remind him that fuck, he doesn’t even have an excuse for randomly messaging his ex-boyfriend of two years, out of the blue, at a socially unacceptable time to text your ex, if there even was one in the first place. 
Still Unformed by colazitron (3k words) - Even and Isak broke up a few years ago when Even moved to Germany to attend film school. Now he's moved back to Oslo. 
there's no one else I'd rather do this with by daddyhonkkk (3k words) - Even still has the extra Gabrielle ticket Isak got him for his birthday, but that was before they broke up. 
Like Breathing by BraveKate (3k words) - Even invites Isak to the premiere of his first movie. Part of a series but could be read as a standalone. 
left-handed by thekardemomme (3.5k words) - even always asks questions he doesn’t want to know the answers to. 
If Only by Stria (Asia117) (3.6k words) - Chatting with a random stranger that turns out to be your ex trope.
o night divine by thekardemomme (4k words) - This is the first Christmas in nearly five years that he’s spending without Isak, and while he still decorated his apartment and bought eggnog and spent an excruciating amount of time wrapping all of his gifts perfectly, the hole in his heart hasn’t gone unnoticed. 
Homesick by everything_else (4k words) - 5 times they take care of each other after the break up. +1 
Waking up to Nothing by dropdeadfox (4.6k words) - It’s been six months since Even has seen that grumpy- but- adorable pout on the most perfect pair of lips imaginable to men (and women). It’s been six months since he has heard that voice, it’s been six months since he has seen the most perfect, emerald- green eyes, gazing back at him. 
42 Seconds by thekardemomme (5k words) - Sunday is Isak’s ideal day. The day he looks forward to. This Sunday, Isak wakes up at 1pm, and the room is dark. The bed is empty and there’s no smell of breakfast. Even hasn’t slept next to him all week. The only thing that’s the same as every other Sunday for the past 23 months is the fact that Isak doesn’t want to get out of bed. 
Inbox: (1) New Email by scritch (6k words) - A story about falling back in love, one tweet, instagram post and email at a time 
the one where even says the wrong name by pansexuaIeven (6.5k words) - Even's getting married to Sonja, not Isak. The real question is: does he know that? Inspired by Friends. 
Shatter Me by givemesumaurgravy (6.6k words) - Even’s crying, he has been since the words ‘I slept with someone else’ left his mouth. To be honest, he’s been crying for hours since he got home from Mikael’s. Isak just sits there stoically and he says, “I’m not going to yell or any of that. I’m just going to make this really fucking awkward and uncomfortable for you.” “I want you to tell me everything that happened,” 
That look you give that guy by Lokkanel (7.4k words) - Isak and Even love each other in secret. It is almost thrilling at first, but when hiding and lying to their friends begin to take a toll on Even, Isak decides to end it all. He thinks he has taken the right decision, until Even eventually moves on with someone else. 
Calleth You, Cometh I by Kollakolan (8.4k words) - “Isak!” Mikaels pipes up. “Didn´t you two have a thing?” he turns to Even. A thing, Even thinks to himself. Yes, Isak and him definitely had a thing. They actually had a low-key thing going for years, but it never really turned into something more. The timing was never right.  
We Keep This Love in a Photograph by kapplebougher (8.7k words) - It's been four weeks since Isak and Even made the decision to call it off. Now, Isak's back in their apartment of seven years and he's supposed to be moving out, but then he stumbles upon some memories that makes doing that a little difficult. 
Our Steady True North by verlore_poplap (orphan_account) (9k words) - Five times Isak and Even were amicable; plus one time they just weren't. Plus an epilogue 
In Vino Veritas by Sabeley (9.9k words) - After seven years apart, Isak wakes up to find Even in his bed and a wedding ring on his finger.
What becomes of the broken hearted by Kikki1 (12k words) - Set many years after Skam ended. Isak is living the life he always dreamed of. He has a good job, amazing friends and a superhot boyfriend. But his heart is forever broken. 
we still fuck by evak1isak (13k words) - Isak and Even had broken up. Period. But they couldn’t keep their hands off each other.  
Heal My Heart for Christmas by iwritetropesnottragedies (recklesslee) (13.5k words) - It’s been ten years since Isak left his small town for the big city of Oslo with his father. He hardly even thought of his time there anymore. Until he received a letter from his mother asking him to come home for Christmas for the first time since he had left. 
in these deep solitudes and awful cells by hippopotamus (14k words) - it ends badly. so badly that they both wish they could forget about it. they meet again a few weeks later, and it’s hard to remember why it had to end. 
If I Should Fall Behind by MinilocIsland (14k words) -  The plan for tonight had been crystal clear. Stay close to his best friend, and steal her away if needed. Hold her hand through the ordeal of meeting Noora again for the first time in years. Then Even shows up – and suddenly, nothing goes the way it was supposed to.
The Good Side by lavenderlady by (15k words) - Isak got the good side of the break up. 
And after that and after that by Teatrolley (18k words) - They’re friends, and roommates, and exes. Then Even becomes single again 
you told me we were forever by Skamtrash (19k words) - they don’t exactly get back together. Isak finds out he's having a baby soon after Even breaks up with him so he makes the decision not to tell him. Except Even finds out on his own 3 years later. 
I'll be right beside you by hannakin (20k words) - ”It’s ironic isn’t it? I broke your heart and now mine is not working,” Isak continued. “Isak…” Even fought against the lump in his throat and the tears that burned behind his eyes. see the sequel below  
Don't Dream It's Over by hannakin (11k words) - WIP last update march 2019. A new chance at life for Isak and a new shot at love for them that Even is not going to waste. Not this time around. 
Let Me In by milk_o_vich (20k words) - Even’s eyes were wide and a little unfocused, flitting over Isak nervously. He was quiet for a long time, rain hitting the pavement outside, and Isak became kind of aware that Even must be freezing in his thin, damp t-shirt. Even pressed his lips together, then said, voice hoarse and quiet, “Can I stay here tonight?” 
Just give me a reason, just a little bit’s enough by Amfelia (21k words) - Even discovers life is not always shiny and bright, sometimes it is just really hard. 
shred by Jules1398 (22k words) - There were two versions of Isak Valtersen. The first Isak was the one that his friends knew. The second Isak, the real Isak, was much more complicated. He was trans, gay, and then there was his five year-old son, Adrian. Keeping the two Isaks separate wasn't that difficult. At least, not until he saw Even again. 
and you fight until the finish line carries you home by strangetowns (23k words) - “Did you love him?” Isak looked down at the glass in his hand, the wine he’d barely had any of. He shrugged, carefully noncommittal, and glanced at Even out of the corner of his eye, raising an eyebrow at his expression. “What, are you jealous?” “Hearing it makes me glad, actually.” “Why?” A beat of silence. Then - “You deserve all the chances at happiness you can get, Isak.”
We're Not Broken Just Bent by TotallyTinkerbell (26k words) - They had made a decision that didn’t fall easy on either of them. A decision that still kept Isak awake at night in his bed that was too big and in his kitchen that was too empty in the mornings. On the couch in front of his tv-cabinet which was void of Even’s film collection, and in his hallway which no longer had a dozen pairs of shoes in it. 
Self Control by nofeartina (28k words) - “I never meant to hurt you, Isak.” Without any pause Isak replies, “Well, you did.” He looks him in the eyes, and continues. “You fucked me up, Even.” 
Reflections by Laika_the_husband (30k words) - He started walking, listening to Even’s footsteps behind him. Fucking Even. Isak knew he didn’t do this on purpose, that it was just an episode, but he had just grown so tired of them. Every time Even relapsed Isak remembered how only a few years ago he had sworn to take care of him forever. How certain he had been, back then, that minute by minute would turn into day by day and week by week and year by year and then into forever. 
Different, but same by Crazyheart (31k words) - Isak and Even had broken up almost a year ago, and Even was devastated. At Easter he tried to get over it and went on a ski holiday with Yousef and Elias. At the cabin he met a guy that looked like Isak, except his dark, buzz cut hair, well trained body and rough, charismatic personality. The fact that he called himself Markus Simensen was even more confusing 
Scene Three, Take Two by folerdetdufoler (31k words) - Isak is 23, a student in the veterinary program at NMBU, and working an internship at a clinic in Kongsvinger. He hasn't seen Even in three years, but randomly bumps into him on the street when he's visiting his mom in Oslo. 
No day without it by skambition (32k words) - And his lips. Those goddamn lips. They brought back memories that Even had tried to forget about for like 10 years now, memories of laughing, smiling, kissing. 
and the whole world is empty by dreamer_of_dreams (45k words) - The conversations were always stilted and quiet and benignly untrue. The phone calls eventually petered out. So, Even did what he thought was right for Isak. On an ordinary Thursday, eating dinner next to each other on the couch, Even looked up from his bowl of noodles, glanced at the clock ticking 9.21 pm and said, “I think we should break up.” 
Every Minute Gets Easier by CrochetingWords (50k words) - His life had turned out beyond his wildest dreams. It was amazing, and when it got bad from time to time, that was still fine, it was still worth it, because the bad times were just a glimpse in their epic story and the good times were just so good, so pure, so abundant, that he knew they would make it through every struggle. Together. Which is why Isak never imagined his current situation: Filing an application for separation. 
Carry on by hannakin (52k words) - For a moment Even just looked at him. Beautiful, amazing Even who was the best thing that had ever happened to Isak. There were tears in his eyes too. When he shook his head sadly, one tear made its way down his cheek. “I think I want to break up” He finally whispered. 
God Only Knows (What I'd Do Without You) by sundaymournin (52k words) - the break up that would never really happen, but imagine if it did. If Even moved to Trondheim for Uni and returned a little over two years later. Imagine what Isak would do, who he would be, and what could've happened but definitely never would've. 
Love is a battlefield by Minutebyminute (56k words) - Love conquers all. Love defeats all. Sometimes love pulls you apart. Sometimes for a period in time, sometimes forever. And sometimes love is a battlefield.
I Feel It When You Don't Look At Me by photographer_of_thoughts (66k words) - A sequel. “I never wanted to leave without you, Even.” Isak whispered. “I know. But you did. And I let you go.” 
The Boy Who Couldn't Hold His Breath Underwater by patrick_ (camille0078) (102k words) - Now, Even is ready to own up to his mistakes and asks Isak if he wants to get back together again. Isak has no doubt about getting back together, but everyone else believes that he's just asking for more trouble. 
All Stories Are Echoes by sebastianL (felix_atticus) (123k words) - A love story. Because that's the kind of story it has to be. This is an Even who's grown up, who's had hard years since the last time we saw him, and who's trying to get his life back together on his own. This is about potential--realized or not--memory, bravery, movies, accidents, and the nature of stories. (I love this fic so much!)  
WIP - I'm not sure if they all are getting back together
Dysecdysis (a tender history in skin) by unsungyellowraincoat (9k words) - last update Feb 2019. Isak and Even are ex-boyfriends, but S3 never happened, so this is completely au. Terje Valtersen is recovering from a hemorrhagic stroke and that plays a big role in this story. 
We, who quietly bleed by howmanyisaksandevens (31k words) - last update May 2018. They break up, they get back together, they live happily ever after or so I choose to believe. 
The One That Got Away by cami_soul (37k words) - last update Sept 2019. In this AU Even never reached out to Isak on December 9. Isak never left the Christmas concert to go find Even. Even rejected all of Isak’s attempts to reach out to him. Isak came to accept Sonja’s statement that Even never really loved him. It is ten years later and Isak has just moved back to Oslo to work at the University of Oslo’s, Department of Medical Genetics. 
I swear that I will wake up next to you by dantetrieswriting (7k words) - last update July 2018. They were on-and-off for three years. Now two years have passed and Isak is 20 and in need of something exciting. An ad ropes him into booking a seat for a month long bus trip to Greece. It's new. It's interesting. It's cheap. Could it get any better? Yes it could. The ad didn't include the slight 6 foot blonde inconvenience going by the name of Even Bech Næsheim. And the fact that the inconvenience would be no more than five centimeters away from him at all times. Thirty days and 6 feet of sex on legs. 
There's nowhere i'd rather be by JustALittleBitOfYou (4k words) - last update March 2019. It's been a year since Even Bech Næsheim and Isak Valtersen broke-up. Well, technically, it's been a year since Isak sent Even away without a real reason. As they both try to rebuild their life, the Bech Næsheim siblings decide to host a one-week party in Mia's and Even's new couple's honor. Isak attends the party, without knowing the identity of the hosts. 
isak in the bathroom by sundaymournin (14k words) - 4/5 chapters posted. break-up fic where isak hides in the bathroom quite a bit, even is dating mikael, and everything is a bit off-center.
The Good Side by sundaymournin (12k words) - last update July 2018. The only thing Isak had in life was Even and the promise they’d made to each other when they were ten and twelve. Isak and Even used to date, broke up, but are still roommates. 
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unclefungusthegoat · 5 years
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Will The Circle Be Unbroken? - Far Cry 5 Week (Day 6): Music
Hello all! So in all honesty, I wrote most of this an entire year ago hahaha, for the Hope County Gothic Festival but got really shy about posting it. But I figured I could use it for the Far Cry 5 Week, for the Music day! It’s a songfic, featuring a song that I really wish had been in the game - Will The Circle Be Unbroken and it’s FUNERAL FIC HOOORAAAAY. 
Here is the song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9F1l6xXLSI0
Get ready for some ALTERNATIVE EULOGIES too, because sadness is fun.
This can be read on AO3: HERE
All my FC5 Week fics can be read: HERE
Trigger Warnings: Canonical Major Character Deaths, Mentions of Child Abuse, Mentions of Drowning, Decomposition, Fire and Funeral Pyres
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The ceasefire was fragile.
Undefined.
No flag upon ramparts, or ink marked on a page. Just an agreement, whispered, gestured and silently promised, that a single night would be set apart for retrieval and burial of the dead. Sundown until sunrise. Not a shot to be fired, confession to be heard, building to be bombed, or heretic strung up. Just stillness and rest. A new Sabbath, of sorts. And for the people of Hope County who spent vast swathes of the day clinging to their lives, it seemed nothing short of a miracle.
It was on this night, on a dusty road through the dead farmland, that a procession of faithful came marching. Their faces were turned to the darkened sky. Eyes burning with sorrow, searing vibrantly like stardust. Alight with fury. Dampened with grief. And with their gaze, they spared no glance for the heretics who lined the path. No care for the vengeful, who bit their tongues and held in their spittle, and sought a glance of the dead to ease their blood lust. Not even a thought for the sinner who had taken so much, challenged their holy purpose. Given them this weight upon their shoulders.
The Father led with faltering step.
His eyes were hazy behind tinted glass. His fingers trembled. His scars, his sins, seemed to burn. But his voice was resolute, the melody echoing through the dark:
There are loved ones in the glory, Whose dear forms you often miss; When you close your earthly story, Will you join them in their bliss?
Carried aloft upon the faithful’s shoulders, upon beds made from velvet, slept the Heralds of Eden. Stilled into a long awaited peace, punctures incarnadine between their ribs a stark reminder of how they had suffered.
Each lay daubed in their own decay.
Will the circle be unbroken By and by, Lord, by and by. There's a better home awaiting In the sky, Lord, in the sky.
It was a song they had always known.
And though it was his flock that called the hymn forth, Joseph could only hear Jacob's low timbre, humming it to ease him into sleep when the belt marks on his back cut too deep. After Old Mad Seed had bellowed Bible verses in his ears, and torn heathen drawings from where they were pinned proudly on the bedroom wall. On the school bus after another endless night hearing Mother scream.
Then slowly he heard his own voice, tinged with a weariness too antiquated for how young he had been. He heard it reverberate through the orphanage halls, the eve before John had been taken away. He'd stroked his brother's hair and caught his tears with his thumbs, and sang until the sun rose:
In the joyous days of childhood, Oft they told of wondrous love, Pointed to the dying Saviour; Now they dwell with Him above.
The lyrics had been worn down by their use when he had been alone. Comforting. Protective. Like an old pair of boots too reliable to cast aside, or a threadbare blanket that still smells of home.
Or the memory of a brother stood boldly in the fire’s glow.
“Jacob...”
Dog tags now around his own neck, metal scraping with every step.
A blood soaked rabbit’s foot.
“You sought purpose. You were lost. I showed you who you once were, and opened your eyes to the Garden you were born to protect. And you cast aside your weakness- the weariness wrought deep within your soul by governments and generals who sought to use your compassion for their selfish ideals. You became strong, brother. You sheltered our Eden with a heart forged in battle. You asked nothing but brotherhood in return. You embraced your family with the strength of gods. And you carried that strength until the end.”
The Soldier, freshly slain, lay proud, like a Viking martyr. Knife threaded between his fingers, the ancient burns that speckled him like rust on the armour he still seemed to bear. His Judges crowned the mountain ledges, howling to the night sky. In the torchlight, his fiery hair shimmered like copper wire; a fleeting glance might think it a halo encircling his skull. His mind, once full of the horrors of war, now quieted. His mouth, that knew the taste of man, free to taste the soil.
Will the circle be unbroken By and by, Lord, by and by. There's a better home awaiting In the sky, Lord, in the sky.
“Faith...”
He had yet to choose another.
None else had her heart, her spirit, her devotion.
“There were some who thought you cruel. Calculating. Jezebel incarnate. They did not understand that you were a mother, and with the burden of motherhood comes a heavy hand. I chose you because you did not shy away from the lessons children must learn. You took the lost and gave them wings. You took the despairing and gave them hope. You took the sick of soul and gave them peace. You took the name of Seed and let it’s glory shine through you. Rest well, my sister. Sleep well, my Faith.”
The Siren once wielded beauty. Now her face was swollen and pallid, bloated where the water had filled her pores and the creatures of the lake had begun to strip her skin away. Yet how sweetly she was scented by the flowers in her flaxen hair! It mingled with the fresh smell of the trees and the distant tang of smoke, heightened in the darkness, when the senses are keen. Even in death, she seduced onlookers with her song. A song composed of silence, of hope and dreams now lost, underscored with the cries of those who mourned.
You remember songs of heaven Which you sang with childish voice, Do you love the hymns they taught you, Or are songs of earth your choice?
Will the circle be unbroken By and by, Lord, by and by. There's a better home awaiting In the sky, Lord, in the sky.
“John...”
He’d finally reached the sky.
Feathered his wings.
Joseph’s heart was fracturing. Oh, the things he wished to say...
“I carry your sin upon my shoulder, that same shoulder three times you felt bitten by wrath. It is a sin of neglect. Neglect of your faith and your body, and by that, God, for we are made in his image. You saw a god every time you glanced in a mirror. A cruel world made you vain and selfish, and the child who had suffered so greatly thought you invincible. You drowned in your pride, as I drown in my regret that I could not save you. I pray that you know my disappointment, John, and I beg mercy for your soul. In all my prayers, and my dreams of eternity together, I ask only that God sees how very hard you tried.”
The Baptist had rotted where he had fallen, swallowed by the damp earth. Shards of dirt had claimed the sorrows inked upon his flesh, the stories he’d wanted to the world to know. His palms were frayed by rope. His lungs were lined with lead. But now he lay in the starlight, arisen from nature’s oesophagus to be cleansed and laid to rest with honour. The bones of his collapsing face seemed testament to how he’d be forgotten. But oh, how they cried his name! A saint, redeemed. A sinner, saved.
You can picture happy gath'rings 'Round the fireside long ago, And you think of tearful partings, When they left you here below.
Will the circle be unbroken By and by, Lord, by and by. There's a better home awaiting In the sky, Lord, in the sky.
In the distance, he could see the pyres silhouetted by the moonlight. Though their bodies were cold, his Heralds would soon feel warmth again, and the embers that rose from the flames would carry their souls to the stars.
It would be a sight remembered for an age; the first flames of a Collapse long awaited.
And soon, all would burn-
-------------------------------------------------------------
Joseph’s eyes flickered open, and the fuchsia tinge of this new world’s morning mist settled into view. He sat lost in the blossoming forest, somewhere near the old compound. Sweet nectar scented the air. Damp grass and sodden earth cocooned his feet. He shivered slightly, his naked chest baptized by the dew.
Before him lay a single grave, shallow and solitary. Dirt was unceremoniously cast across it, and a rusted iron crucifix of Eden’s Gate, now New Eden, stood guard.
No flowers.
No velvet.
No choir of lamenting brothers and sisters.
Not even their names.
His body had whined under the strain of shovelling. Age and years of almost starving had weakened his arms, but when the Judge had offered to accompany him, to put to rest the overwhelming guilt that had consumed them, and to move the dirt for him, he gently refused. He owed it to his family to do it himself. It had taken him days to hike across the county, alone with only his memories, to collect their remains. What little remained of them after all those years.
He had had not the strength, or enough of them left, to dig three.
But they were reunited now, in eternal embrace. No ceremony. No procession. No pomp and martyrdom, as he had dreamed. Their resting place was the picture of modesty. Humility. A grave for the truly devoted. Their bones would turn to chalk and clay, and they would feed the insects and the reawakened soil.
Watch the new Eden grow.
Someday he’d be buried there with them.
Together forever.
And he thought, as he rested beside them to finish their song:
What more had they ever wanted?
One by one their seats were emptied, One by one they went away; Now the family is parted, Will it be complete one day?
Will the circle be unbroken By and by, Lord, by and by. There's a better home awaiting In the sky, Lord, in the sky.
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magic-and-myths · 5 years
Text
Summer Nights
When I was little, we’d visit my grandma in the hills an hour east of our home. We went every summer and stayed for weeks. Cassie and I would run around that old house, stomping on every creaky stair and whipping around corners plastered with flowery wallpaper, almost knocking over all the priceless family heirlooms. My mother would always send us out before we could do too much damage. 
“Girls! Take your shenanigans outside before the entire house comes crashing down,” she would always say. Then Grandma would shrug her thin old shoulders and give us a wink as we bounded out the door and scampered off into the rose garden. We didn’t appreciate the garden much in those days. Sure, the roses were pretty, but for our purposes they were merely bushes we couldn’t touch. Looking at them now is a very different experience. Grandma was so dedicated to them. Even as her arthritis got worse, she never stopped pruning them. It showed. Each bush was a monument to dedication, a thorny tribute to hours spent in gardening gloves under the hot sun. They reminded me too much of her.
But when we were little we didn’t care about any of that. We just cared about the feeling of the wind in our hair and the grass under our feet. Past the garden was a great big lawn, much too big to ever be mown. Wild flowers burst untamed from the fertile ground, and he grass grew tall enough to tickle my nose, though now it would only come up to my waist. Cassie was too short to see over the grass, so she would charge about blindly until she happened to run into me, or grew tired and collapsed into a pile of giggles. Whenever we came back in from the field, inevitably scratched all over and thoroughly exhausted, Dad would say something about ticks, and how we should be wearing long pants. 
“Oh phooey,” Grandma would say. “I was playing out in that field before you were born, and I’m still here to tell the tale.”
Dad would nod begrudgingly, and Cassie and I would grin from ear to ear. The next day we’d be back out in the field, in our colorful shorts, with the grass nipping at our legs.
Beyond the field were the woods. We weren’t allowed to go into the woods without an adult, much to our young chagrin. Instead, we'd poke our heads out of the grass and stare longingly up at the birches that guarded that forbidden land. And when the longing grew too great, we'd run back inside and beg Grandma to take us on a faerie hike.
Most of the time she'd decline, and give us each a lemon drop for our trouble. But sometimes, on particularly windy days, or days when the clouds rose taller than mountains, or rain dripped gently from the treetops, she’d rise out of her chair and say, “Well alright. Let's see if we can find any today.”
Cassie and I would titter wildly while running circles around her feet. She would grab her walking stick from its place beside the door, and we would set off. 
Grandma walked slowly, especially on uneven ground, and Cassie and I would always be tempted to dash on ahead, but we never did. We had to listen to Grandma’s story. It was always the same; the same cascading syllables, the same dramatic pauses, but no matter how many times we stayed dead silent and strained our ears to hear every last word.
“When I was a little girl, no bigger than you two here, we lived in this very house. My brother, your great-uncle Henry, and I would run around like wild things, just as you do now. But some days we would get bored of the house, and the garden, and the field, and we’d take each others’ hands, and we’d step into the woods. It feels different under the trees. Calmer, older, more magical. Can you feel it?”
We would nod vigorously, and Grandma would smile. She had the type of smile that would reach all the way up into her eyes.
“Good. I can too. That means that the faeries are still here. Long ago, before humans had conquered the forest, there were a great many wild things that lived there. Great dragons slept in their massive nests of pine needles and dirt. Spirits made out of starlight wandered the night, and dryads whispered secrets to each other in the dark. Owls large enough to carry off a cow roosted in pines bigger than you can possibly imagine. Great big stags, taller than most houses, silently roamed beneath trees that scraped the clouds. The only creatures to rise above these trees were the forest giants, who were so tall nobody had ever seen their faces. Fairies lived among these creatures in the nooks and crannies of the wild. In the hollows of rotting logs, the knots of ancient trees, the cracks between lichen covered rocks, the fiddleheads of baby ferns, the shade of colorful mushroom caps, this is where the faeries made their homes. They flitted about in clearings and glades, frolicking in the sun, and drinking nectar from flowers.
“But as humans began to populate the world, they ventured into the forest. Humans are brave creatures, you see, and just as we are now, they were curious as to what lay beneath the dappled sun beams. However, some humans were not as strong of will as the two of you, and they were overcome by greed. They came with their axes and engines and cut down the tallest trees. With each one that came crashing down, the forest grew shorter. And as the forest shrank, the great big creatures who called it home began to disappear. The giants went first, of course. Some say they just sat down and gradually became covered in earth and snow. Others say that they simply walked in the ocean, and kept walking until even their heads were hidden beneath the waves. The dragons went next. Some were hunted for their horns, and the rest hid in fear. They sealed their caves, and vowed only to emerge when the trees regrew and the humans were gone.”
Cassie and I would stare at grandma, eyes wide, scared to even breathe too loud lest we interrupt the story.
“The stags and owls remained, but as the forest grew shorter and shorter, they shrank with it, eventually becoming the size that you know today. As wilderness disappeared, so did the spirits, their starlight outshined by the artificial lights of humans. But the faeries did not disappear. They were the smallest of the wild creatures, and the best at hiding. The forest was still plenty big enough for them, and the humans hardly noticed them. No matter how many roads were paved, flowers still bloomed . As years passed, the faeries became better and better at hiding, but they never disappeared. They’re still here, and you can find them if you know where to look, step quietly, and have a little bit of luck.”
Exactly at this point we’d arrive at our destination. It was a flawless process, no matter how fast we walked or who stopped to tie their shoe; the story always took just as long as the walk. We assumed it was because Grandma was magical. Our destination was a sort of clearing in the center of a grove of poplar trees. In the clearing was a circle mushrooms, small orange ones with cute round caps. My seventh grade science teacher said this perfect circle was because of something called mycelium, which the mushrooms put underground. Grandma said it was because of faeries.
“That’s why it’s called a faerie circle after all,” she’d always say.
Various flowers also grew around the faerie circle, mostly violets and lily of the valley. A rock stood in the center. Cassie always called it the bean bag rock, because it was about the right size and was covered in the softest moss our tiny hands had ever felt. When Grandma’s story finished we would walk to the bean bag rock and sit down. We would sit there for hours, Cassie and I intently watching the clearing’s edge, and Grandma gently stroking our hair. 
Sometimes Grandma would start to sing. We would always shush her, saying “Grandma stop, you’re going to scare away the faeries!” She would laugh and hug us tight, and we would turn back to our vigil. We’d stay until the sun dipped below the horizon and the first splashes of purple appeared in the sky.
At that point Grandma would sigh, get up from the bean bag rock, stretch, and say, “Now come along dears, it’s time to get home. You’re going to want your dinners.”
We would wail that no, we weren’t hungry, and couldn’t we just stay for fifteen more minutes? 
But Grandma was adamant, and she’d say “If the faeries haven’t come out to play yet they aren’t going to. We’ll have to try some other time.” We’d yawn and drag our rumbling stomachs back through the forest, now cast in the soft orange glow of the sunset. Most nights we’d be too tired to eat dinner sitting up, and our parents would bring it up to us tucked into our beds. 
We slept in the room at the apex of the house, where the ceiling sloped away to form a narrow room with a triangle window on the far side. Our beds were short cots on either side of the room, the ceiling gently sloping into the wall above us. The heat from the house rose, and this room would get ridiculously hot. 
Some nights we wouldn’t be able to sleep. On those nights Cassie and I would open the triangular window, and stick our faces to it, desperately trying to catch a whiff of the cool night breeze. We’d stay there all night, listening to the crickets in the grass, the wind in the leaves, and the owls in the trees. It was on these nights, our faces pressed against the screen, the moon shining down, the breeze flickering through the window, that we’d see the faeries.
There was a trellis leaning against the back of the house that came almost up to our window. Morning glories clung to its painted wooden rungs, their tendrils stretching towards the sky. And on summer nights, as the first stars began to wink in the dark blue sky, the morning glories would unfurl their flowers. They were tiny parasols, popping open under starlight rain. And it was to these flowers the faeries came. 
They came from the forest, just as Grandma said, flitting on wings of purple and blue, green and orange. They glowed gently in the dark, and we could see them flapping across the field until they reached the base of the trellis. From there they grew more cautious, and would slowly creep up it, floating from flower to flower. Cassie and I would hold our breath, trying our very very best not to make a sound. After what felt like hours, and maybe was, they’d reach the top.
The faeries were the most delicate creatures we had ever seen. From their backs sprouted glowing wings, midnight blue and sunset purple, forest green and autumn orange, similar to butterfly’s wings, but not quite. They were more pointed, and moved faster, almost like a hummingbird. Their bodies were softer colors than their vibrant wings, light yellow or green, silver or pink. 
The faeries weren’t silent, like you might expect. They made little chirping noises, and tittered amongst themselves. When they flew, their wings buzzed with brilliant energy. They behaved a lot like bees, flying into flowers and crawling around their stems. The glow from their wings would light up the flowers, casting brilliant rainbow lights along the side of the house and turning the trellis of morning glories into a strand of Christmas lights. They would reach their hands, barely the size of the head of a pin, into the flowers, grabbing fistfulls of pollen and stuffing it into their tiny mouths. The faeries weren’t dainty little princesses with table manners, they were hungry creatures, glad to have a meal. And for our part, we were glad they came.
Of course Cassie and I told Grandma that we saw the faeries outside our window; she gave us a big hug and congratulated us, saying that we had been “graced by the wild,” but we were never sure that she actually believed us. We never told our parents. Nevertheless, we knew what we saw. And we knew that we were graced by the wild. We had seen the last traces of the wilderness, looked directly into their tiny black eyes, and they had looked back.
Cassie and I didn’t talk about the faeries much. It never seemed appropriate. It wasn’t something you could talk about over dinner while on break from college, or brought up over the phone. It was something you whispered across a campfire when everyone else had gone to sleep, or mentioned when the last box had been moved out of Mom and Dad’s attic and dust motes filled the air. But even when we didn’t bring it up, it was always there. It was a constant bond between us, in our looks, our laughter, and today it was in our tears. 
It wasn’t always easy to be graced by the wild. It doesn’t fit very well on a high school transcript or a job application, and sometimes it even gets in the way. Once you’ve seen the faeries, it’s hard to see anything the same way again. Every person on the street seems ignorant, like they’re walking through life with their eyes half closed. Every building seems pointless, a monument made to shield us from the sky. Once you’ve seen the faeries, it’s hard to fight the instinct to run off into the woods and never come back. 
So as I grew up, I sometimes forgot about the faeries. Never for too long, just long enough to get on with my life. Later I’d go back into my head, take the faeries out of their box, dust them off, and become the girl who had seen the faeries. It wasn’t too often, but when I went on a hike on a day off, fell asleep to rain pounding against the windows, walked to work in fresh snow, got home from a particularly bad date, or just drove off into the wilderness because I could, that’s who I became: the girl who had seen the faeries.
And today, in Grandma’s house, staring out the window in the too hot room at the peak of the house, with my family crowding around a table downstairs, the world feeling a little bit emptier, that’s who I am. I am the girl who’s seen the faeries.
I feel arms wrap around me from behind. It’s Cassie. Her jet black curls press into my cheek as she squeezes me tight. I start to smile, but before it can break across my face she tightens her grip and I let out a strangled gasp. She laughs at me, but doesn’t let go. At a glare from me she loosens her hug and she goes back to nuzzling my shoulder.
“She’d be proud of us you know.” Tears immediately spring to me eyes.
My response is barely a whisper. “I know.”
We stand like that for a few minutes, with the sun shining through the window, and morning glories waving in the wind, their closed flowers tapping against the glass. Cassie walked over and opened the window, before turning back to me.
“Did you bring a sleeping bag?”
I nodded.
“Want to sleep up here? Just one more night?”
The tears broke free, dripping out of my eyes. I couldn’t manage a sound, but I nodded vigorously. Cassie gave a wistful smile. 
“Alright faerie girl, pull yourself together. You’ve got to make a speech in a few minutes.”
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lanaberryrawr · 6 years
Note
Hello dear Lana!! It is I, trans girl! Victor Anon! \(°❤️``)/ hope you're doing well!!! I just had an idea for a ficlet. A Royalty au where Victor insists on treating his arranged marriage like a secret romance,and Yuuri rolls with it after a while and they have lots of laughs ❤️
Hello!!! :D I hope you’re doing well as well! :D And omg, I love this XD Like I really really love it, it’s probably one of my favourites! I got far too into it as I was writing it, I have to say…. It’s the longest one I’ve done, and I was laughing through all of it XD I hope you enjoy it :3
Yuuri tiptoed through the walled gardens at midnight,listening to the chirping of the crickets as they sung. Beneath that, helistened for footsteps as his gaze flickered through the darkness, searching forany moving shadows.
When he was sure that he was alone in the gardens, he snuckdeeper in. The flowers closed under the moonlight, sleeping until the earlyrays of the morning sun would peek over the horizon. They swayed in the lightbreeze and Yuuri wrapped his shawl tighter around his shoulders. He glancedover his shoulder, making sure that he wasn’t followed, and saw the outline ofthe castle against the dark blue background of the night, a few windows brightwith lights from the night guards. It rested on top of the hill, overlooking alush valley, is grounds larger than fifty football fields.
It belonged to the royal family and held them within its oldwalls. Yuuri knew them well, but that was why he had to keep his nightlyadventures a secret. While the majority of the royals slept, he snuck throughthe walled gardens, deep into its well-kept mazes and blooming flowers tosearch out a particular person.
Yuuri felt his heart clench at the thought of the personthat was waiting for him. He turned back to his task and entered the innerlevel of the garden through a hedge arch. It opened to a small hill. A river layat the bottom, glittering under the light of the moon and a thousand stars. Hecarefully tiptoed down, searching for the silhouette he most wanted to see.
It wasn’t until he reached the river that he saw it. A tallman was facing the brook with his arms behind his back. He wore fine, detailedclothing, woven with gold thread and tailored to fit no one but him. Every edgeaccentuated his form. But it didn’t compare to the man himself. As Viktorturned, his pale skin shone underneath the light, hair sparkling, eyes shiningbeautifully as if he had managed to capture the stars themselves in his gaze.He grinned as he saw Yuuri, turning to reach out one hand.
Yuuri accepted it without any hesitation. He drowned inViktor’s warmth, almost forgetting the chill in the air entirely. Viktor pulledhim close and pressed a kiss to his cheek.
“I trust that you were without difficulty?”
“Please,” Yuuri chuckled. “I know the guards’ schedule bynow. They make it easy.” He pressed a loving kiss to Viktor’s lips, cupping theman’s perfect face in his hands as gently as if he was carrying the world.
Viktor pulled back and wrapped his arms around Yuuri’swaist, pulling him closer again until there was so space between their bodies. “Itis no wonder that they have not caught us yet,” he whispered.
Viktor’s voice sent shivers up Yuuri’s spine. “We are toogood.”
“I crave more than our secret rendezvous, Yuuri. I cravemore than moonlight meetings, of passed glances in the hallway, barely a word spokenbetween us during the day. I know we must remain a secret, for the good of myfamily and for your future, but I am growing impatient with this situation.”
Yuuri pressed another kiss to Viktor’s lips to stop his wordsand to stop Yuuri’s own rising laugh as it bubbled up his chest. Supress it, hethought. “It must be this way, Viktor. You began this. You said so yourself.”
“I know, but I regret my past self for his foolishness. I donot care for what they would say about us – I want to pick you up and run off,somewhere where my title means nothing and I can marry you.”
Yuuri gentle ran his thumbs over Viktor’s skin, surprisedevery time that his cheeks were so soft. For a man that seemed to have everyedge carved out by the gods, crafted in the image of legends, Viktor wassurprisingly soft and rounded when looked at closer. He was also made of hardmuscle – Yuuri knew that well from previous meetings, of time spent with wanderinghands and rushed words, but Viktor was never limited to one thing. Hard andsoft, beautiful and dangerous, the love of Yuuri’s life and his best friend.
“We have things to think of, Viktor. This situation – it doesnot stop at us. We both have families, we have responsibilities. You have acountry.”
Viktor huffed and leaned forwards, pressing his forehead toYuuri’s. For a moment, he said nothing, simply stared into Yuuri’s eyes andbreathed between them. It was as the chill in the air was beginning to deepen,making it through their warm little bubble, that he finally spoke, “Damn our difficultlives. I would have you my husband despite what my family says. We could runthis country together. We-”
Footsteps interrupted Viktor’s speech. At first, Yuuri flinched,too immersed in their roles before he reminded himself of the reality. Heturned in Viktor’s arms just in time to see a torch light dancing across thegrass. Three guards were making their way down the hill, walking louder thanthey normally would have to warn the couple of their arrival. In the hands ofthe first guard, he held blankets and hot cups of tea.
Viktor huffed. “Must you interrupt? I was in the middle of aromantic speech.”
“Sorry Prince Viktor, but we noticed it was growing cold. Wethought it best to collect you and your fiancé before the frost settled in,”the guard with the torch informed.
Viktor glanced down to Yuuri, rubbing his hands along hisspine. He sighed. “I suppose that was a good idea. I was beginning to feel thechill.”
Yuuri couldn’t contain his grin. “It was a very romanticspeech, Viktor. Had I not been your fiancé and instead a lowly servantforbidden to be with you, I would have agreed to throw away everything to marryyou.”
“How about eloping?”
“Of course. You move me every meeting with your words,”Yuuri complimented. Viktor dipped him and pressed another kiss to his lips,this one hungrier than the last few.
As Viktor puled back, the guards settled blankets upon Yuuri’sand Viktor’s shoulders, handing them the steaming cups of tea. The first guard said,“Prince Viktor, I still do not understand why you insist on these plays. It is growinginto Autumn, much too cold for you to pretend to sneak out in the middle of thenight.”
Yuuri looped an arm around Viktor’s and took a sip of thetea, feeling it warm his chilled lips.
As they were guided back to the castle, Viktor answered, “Becauseit’s romantic!”
“You two are already arranged to marry,” the third guardchuckled.
“But in any social standing, any situation, any life, Iwould find Yuuri and fight for him,” Viktor pouted, leaning closer to Yuuri. “Andas our wedding day draws closer, our days are filled with stress. There isnothing like a secret meeting in the middle of the night to relax.”
“I agree,” Yuuri replied. “And Viktor looks so handsomeunderneath the moonlight. How could I say no to that?”
Viktor smiled and kissed his forehead.
The guards before them groaned, familiar with the cheesy words.The first said, “I have never seen an arranged couple so happy before.” Theothers agreed.
Viktor and Yuuri did not hear though. Viktor was whisperingplans into Yuuri’s ear for their next ‘secret’ meeting. This time, a rushed picnicfrom the leftovers in the kitchen before the library fireplace soundedromantic. Yuuri couldn’t agree more.
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Note
Imagine what young Ian saw between Jamie and Claire on their journey from Edinburgh to Lallybroch that made him feel Claire was his “auntie” and that “Uncle Jamie [was] lucky to have [her] here.”
Ian Murray the Younger yawned as he rounded the clump ofbushes, tying up his flies.
 “There you are.” Claire – crouching on the grass, diggingthrough the small mountain of saddlebags, looked up and pushed a stray curlbehind her ear. “Do you remember where you packed that bread and cheese?”
 “Aye – believe it was this one.” Ian crouched beside her– this strange woman, or fairy, or white lady, this woman whom his uncleaffectionately called a sassenach, of all things – and undid the buckles of thewhite bag he had tied to the horse this morning.
 “Thank you,” she said quietly. “Jamie just went to hobblethe horses – thought it would be good for us all to have a bite to eat when hecomes back.”
 “Aye.” Ian produced a wrinkled, yet clean cloth from thebag, then the half-stale loaf and wedge of cheese Pauline had packed in thetiny kitchen at the brothel.
 “Are you still finding it difficult to breathe?”
 Ian looked up from cutting hunks of bread, browsfurrowed. “It’s better than yesterday – but my chest is still a wee bit tight.”
 “That’s to be expected with smoke inhalation. I can makesomething for you when we get to Lallybroch – a mixture that you can ask Mrs.Crook to boil, so that you can breathe the steam. It should help open up yourlungs.”
 “That would be grand.” Ian handed a hunk of bread andcheese to Claire. “Though – and I hope ye dinna mind me saying so – Mrs. Crookdied before I was born.”
 “Oh.”
 Ian glanced up from his own bread and cheese, to seeClaire looking at the ground, tearing small chunks of bread and leaving thechunks on her lap, untouched. Lips pursed tight.
 Guilt flushed through his body. “I – I dinna mean toinsult ye. Only, I thought ye should know.”
 She straightened, gave him a quick smile, and continuedtearing her bread into ever-smaller chunks.
 Silence – heavy and questioning – bloomed between them.
 Then footsteps –
 “Ach – thanks to ye both for sorting our things out.”Jamie knelt beside Claire, pressing a quick kiss to the top of her head. “I canbuild a wee fire, if ye like?”
 “We’ve nothing to cook, but I’d welcome the warmth. Andit would help me examine your hands – it’ll be full dark soon, and it may takea while.”
 Ian handed his uncle the final hunk of bread and cheese.“Do ye want me to fetch some wood, then?”
 “If ye will, Ian – thank ye.” Jamie chewed around amouthful of bread, stretching out his long legs beside Claire’s bent ones.
 Ian quickly rose and padded away from the makeshift camp.Uncle Jamie had picked a quiet spot up against some rocks and beside a stand oftrees – natural shelter – and with the dead branches and tufts of grass foundeasily by the campsite, it was only a few minutes until he returned, arms fullof logs and kindling.
 But he paused for a moment before Jamie and Claire heardhim. Watching them. So curious about this woman who had dropped out of theclear blue sky – and her effect on his uncle.
 For at that moment they sat close together, legs crossed,facing each other. His right hand held the remains of his bread and cheese, hisleft lay palm upward on Claire’s knee.
 “…Can’t hold the reins so tightly. No wonder it’s allcramped up. Does this happen often?”
 “Every now and again. I havena rode a horse for an entireday in a long time, perhaps that’s why.”
 Claire gently rubbed her thumbs in the well of Jamie’spalm, then turned over his hand to continue with his knuckles.
 Even twenty feet away, Ian heard his uncle’s breathhitch.
 It was strange, seeing Uncle Jamie with a woman. He’dseen him with Laoghaire, of course – but she never paid him this kind ofattention. And he certainly hadn’t let her touch him so – so intimately.
 Had Claire enchanted him, then?
 Ian coughed and strode back into the campsite, nodding ahello at his uncle and arranging the logs to build a fire.
 The sharp tang of wintergreen wafted past Ian’s nose ashe rummaged in his pack for flint and steel.
 “You’ve got to take care of these blisters, Jamie,”Claire murmured. “Your hands can’t take much more stress.”
 Ian could almost hear the shrug. “Ach – ye ken fine thatI’ll be given some chore or another as soon as we arrive. But I’ll pass it offto one o’ my nieces or nephews – anything to impress their Mam.”
 Spark – spark – and then flame.
 “Thank you, Ian.” He turned to settle beside Claire,carefully feeding smaller twigs into the growing fire.
 Jamie sighed as Claire continued dabbing the ointment onhis knuckles. “Will it be awhile afore I can touch anything, Sassenach?”
 “Yes – though I hope you’re not planning to do much morebefore we sleep. It’s nearly dark, and I can manage the bedrolls and saddlebags– ”
 “Weel, I dinna have anything in mind – save giving ye awee feel under that bodice, when we lie down…”
 Ian’s face flushed with heat – and not solely from thegrowing flames.
 Claire sighed.
 Jamie grinned.
 --
 Somewhere in the empty dark, Ian woke.
 He had always been a light sleeper, and though he hadspent many nights under the stars when he was a wee lad, lately he had beenspending more nights at the printshop – and once at the brothel – than out herein the open country.
 It was only a rabbit, perhaps – a rustle in the bushes afew yards from where he slept, rolled in his cloak.
 The fire had gone out, but the soft heat of the coalsstill warmed his back. Ian shifted – the moon was almost full – and then turnedonto his other side.
 Uncle Jamie and Claire had settled on the other side ofthe fire – clearly seeking as much privacy as was possible out here in theopen. And in the soft glow of the moon, Ian could see them. Sleeping nestledlike two spoons, Uncle Jamie curled around Claire with his front to her back,one arm locked around her middle. Her arm resting atop his.
 Never had he seen two people sleep so closely together –not even his own parents.
 Who was she – Claire? This ghost from the past, whoremembered things the way they were before Culloden? Who had met his legendarygreat-uncles Colum and Dougal – and lived in France for a time? And had spentthe past twenty years living in the Colonies, fearing Uncle Jamie dead?
 And who was Uncle Jamie, now that Claire had come back? Nolonger the printer – or smuggler – he had been for the past two years. Nolonger a man haunted by the ghost of his long-lost wife.
 Twenty years separated. Longer than he’d been alive.
 He tried – and failed – to think what it would be likefor his own parents, were they separated for such a time.
 It’s a complicated thing, marriage. Two people becomingone – willingly. Sharing lives, and hopes, and happiness, and fears.
 And joys. Uncle Jamie’s face – voice – his entire bearingwas different now. Ian had never seen him so alive.
 Claire shifted in Uncle Jamie’s arms, turning to facehim. He heard a deep murmur, rising in pitch as if asking a question. And aftera while, the slow sounds of a kiss.
 Ian rolled back over to face the darkness. Heart and mindracing.
 --
 “There – that should be the last of it.”
 Claire fastened the saddlebag astride Teine’s haunches,patting the roan horse’s neck. “Thank you, Ian. You’re sure your chest is allright? No tightness this morning?”
 He shook his head. “No – I’m right as rain. This cleancountry air has done me good!”
 Uncle Jamie stepped away briefly from fastening his ownsaddlebags as Claire stepped into the stirrups – his arm right behind her back,ready to catch her if the horse startled.
 His uncle was always attentive, to be sure – but this,this was different.
 This was a woman worthy.
 Claire was Jamie’s true wife.
 Ian stepped up and took his seat in the saddle, adjustinghis grip on the reins.
 Jamie guided his horse between them, and began the slowtrot to Lallybroch.
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